#pointless arguing on both sides like be quiet

[sleekswosobession]

you are broken on the floor

alexia putellas x keeper!reader

overview: goalkeeping means sacrificing your body, how far would you go?

A/N: i feel rlly sad so i got the discord to come up with ideas (thanks @totaly-obsessed + @alotofpockets)

TW: Blood, Severe Injury, Brutal Angst

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

Ever since a child, you loved the feeling of saving footballs. If any of the teams you were on needed someone in goals you'd be the first the volunteer, along the way you actually got good at it and eventually signed with Barcelona in 2021, making good friends along the way.

Along with joining Barça, it came with getting a girlfriend. Who was the best person you'd ever had in your life romantically.

Being a keeper in the best club would always mean injuries, trying to keep a clean sheet like any defensive player wants.

Sometimes though, injuries are worse. Life threatening in some cases, career ending in others. It's something no player even wishes upon their most rivalled team.

You just had to be unlucky didn't you?

Barcelona were comfortably winning against Frankfurt 3-0, when a gap in defense allows a German player to make their strike. You fall back onto the line hoping the punch the ball away.

Seems like life has other plans.

The player shoots left, you dive left and push the ball away. However with being airborne, you can’t stop. Your body crashes into the post with a loud thud.

The stadium goes quiet, your screams and cries horrific. Your body looks… wrong.

Your collarbone isn’t straight, it’s indescribable. Bones are poking out. There’s blood running down your face where your head has cracked open after hitting the post.

It’s sickening to watch.

Players immediately rush over, forming a circle around you as to not show a fellow player in such vulnerable state.

Alexia is by your side trying to comfort you, trying to keep you still. Seeing you in this much pain makes her heart ache. If she could take it all, she would.

Paramedics are by your side instantly as the circle of players back up to give them space to work, Alexia sits helplessly watching you worm in pain.

After quick testing to make sure you were still alive and conscious, they get you on the stretcher. Which includes more screaming, and more pain.

Alexia watches as you get taken off the field in a hurry, fans of both teams clap and give you a standing ovation.

“Alexia, she’s strong. Let’s finish and win this game for her yeah?” Mapi pats her best friends back, also devastated at the turn on events.

“Ye- yeah.” The captains broken voice says.

- - - - -

As the rest of the minutes in the game are being played, you’re fighting for your life in the back of an ambulance.

The pain getting unbearable, you find yourself slowly slipping in and out of consciousness. Paramedics are doing things around you, but your eyes are too glossy to really tell. Your mind is also too fuzzy to think straight.

There is one thing you want, Ale. But, with everything? You wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve ruined some of your vocal cords from screaming so loud.

Soon enough, you succumb to the darkness. Letting it engulf you to a place less ridden in pain and chaos.

- - - - -

The game is over, an unspoken heaviness in the air surrounding both teams. There is little interaction with fans, whom luckily understand the pain the players must be feeling at the time.

Alexia, Mapi and Ingrid get in the Norwegian’s car and drive straight to the hospital where the medical team said you were going to.

When arriving, Ingrid drops Alexia and Mapi before parking, understanding they need each other. You were important to everyone, but Mapi was like your sister and Ale was obviously your girlfriend.

They rush inside, talking quickly to the nurse at reception who gives them sorry smiles, updating them all that she could. Which was that you were alive and in emergency surgery.

They don’t argue, it’s pointless. So they sit down on uncomfortable plastic chairs, playing a waiting game until you were coherent and safe.

- - - - -

4 hours and many freak out sessions later, a doctor walks over to the three girls explaining the situation you’re in.

“It’s a grade 2 concussion to her head, in cases like these there is chance for memory loss. I believe she has all her memory, we were talking about different things before I came here. It’s a high possibility that she has no memories from the accident though.” He pauses before continuing.

“She experienced a dislocated collarbone. We’ve put it back in its original place, recovery could take 1 year and she might never be to the level she was at currently again. We had to do work on surrounding ligaments which makes the recovery time longer.” The girls take in the information.

“Have you told her she won’t play for a while?” Ingrid asks the question on everyone’s mind.

“I did, she was upset in her own right. If that is all your questions, she has her own room. I believe you all know concussion protocol?” They nod.

“Ok, room 3146. If you need anything at all just shout.”

“Gracias, for everything you’ve done.” The doctor smiles at Alexia.

“No problem.”

- - - - -

When reaching the room, the 3 Barça players see your state, a gauze wrapped around your head and a large cast across your torso, restricting movement.

“Amor?” Alexia asks cautiously.

“Hi Ale.” You look at the other two. “Mapi, Ingrid, nice to see you.”

Alexia sits by the chair on the side of your bed, looking up with teary eyes.

“Please, please don’t ever do that again.” She sobs, cradling your face softly. “I can’t- I can’t lose you.”

“Ale, you’ve got me. I’m right here, please don’t cry amor. Por favor.” You look over to the other two in the room, smiling softly.

She takes a couple minutes to settle down and finally talk.

“Have you heard about your recovery?”

“Sí” You watch her sigh, tracing patterns over your hand.

“Lo siento, but I’ll be with you the whole way ok? I promise.” She says without an inch of hesitation in her voice.

“Te amo mucho Ale. That means so much more than you could ever know.” She responds by leaving a lingering kiss against your hand.

“I’m glad you’re ok. Had as all worried.” Ingrid smiles lightly.

“Yeah.. I don’t remember much about what happened. I might later on but for now I’m content without the memories.” She laughs.

“Well, all of the culers and people at Barça wish you a safe and great recovery. Even if the doctor hasn’t said it, you’ll come back stronger I know it.”

“Thanks Maps, I think I stay in the hospital for a few more days then I’m clear to go home. I have to wear this for like 6 weeks then start the strengthening physio whatever.”

“Ah, can’t wait to see you on the pitch again then amiga. Well, Ingrid and I will leave you and Ale to talk on your own. If you ever need funny company instead of serious company I am always here.” You hold onto your laugh smirking.

“Alright León, keep it moving.” You joke back and watch the couple leave.

You think back to what recovery is going to be like. A very long journey. It seems your girlfriend notices your thoughts.

“Shh, you’ll be fine and as Mapi said you’ll come back better.”

“Thanks Ale.” She leans over and presses a kiss to your lips softly.

- - - - -

The next few weeks are tough, you feel as though you’re useless. Alexia has all this stuff on her plate already and you’re just another one. However she is always quick to shut those thoughts down. No matter how moody, or how angry you got at her. She stayed, just like she promised she would.

Who knows what the future holds, maybe something, maybe nothing. What does matter though? Is who you go there with. For you it’s Ale. It will always be Alexia.

—————————————————————————

PART 2 - here

also i did say i was sick now i’m feeling better.. physically (not mentally since i just wrote this fic)

[lustytears]

Be Quiet

no plot. just fucking tom marvolo riddle like there’s no tomorrow

afab!reader x tom riddle

2.2k words

warnings: SMUT. tongue play, blood kink, biting, spit kink, female receiving, p in v, wrap it b4 u tap it, public sex (in a school), hair pulling, unspecified house reader, shit i can’t think of bc i didn’t rlly proof read it, but it’s for you guys.

haven’t wrote anything in a hot minute so forgive me. first time seriously posting on tumblr. this was actually supposed to be a draco malfoy smut but i just switched it around mid-way when i was thinking of my best friend, who’s completely obsessed with this diary horcrux of voldemort just like me.

i will try and post a master list or something, give me time please.

You sat in your desk, pissed at how you were in this situation in the first place. It all happened because of Tom Riddle, who started arguing with you in the middle of potions—which you inevitably swore at him. Both of you were sent to detention to not only calm the both of yourselves, but for the disrespect and dishonor brought to Hogwarts. You were a good student, if anything a well-respected one at the most. It made you feel embarrassed knowing that you were “disorderly” but you couldn’t help but bite your tongue and put your foot down when it came to Tom Riddle. His smart remarks, his quiet demeanor, his attitude; all of it made me you want to pull at him, perhaps make him realize that he’s nothing to you.

He sat at his desk, both of your desks close between the both of you. “Would you stop?” He bore his eyes into you like daggers. His voice full of personal annoyance.

You placed your pen down, huffing. “How about you shut the fuck up, Riddle? It’s the only damn thing you’re good for anyways,” you crossed your legs, irritation came with your tone. You felt mad—perhaps upset at the fact that you were in this situation with him in the first place. He’s so fucking-

“I promise you,” he said with assurance. “I’m gonna make you regret everything you think. Every nasty glance, every remark.” Tom said, and the feeling of anger filled your head.

“Like I give a shit?” You held yourself back from laughing. “You’re actually so intolerable to be around that it makes me mad,” you hissed. “Fucking dog.” You fixed your black stalkings, the feeling of them rolling up at your thighs bothered you.

Who the fuck was she? With THAT tone? I don’t think so.

“You’re nothing to anyone, Y/N. You’re annoying, deranged, pissy, and disrespectful,” he leaned closer into your side, rubbing it into your face.

“And you’re obsessed,” you shot back at him. Your chest was stiff, but you inhaled. Your fists balled up, your face red.

“Half-bloods like you make me sick. You can’t ever give up, can you?” He smirked. “You love the attention. Fuck, it wouldn’t surprise me if you loved this. It’s your only way to get off, frantically throwing pointless insults at me?” He got up, walked to your desk. “I know you’re aroused. Aroused by the attention of a man noticing you for merely one second.”

“Oh, you fucking stupid b-“ He noticed you playing with your skirt. He pointed to it.

“That’s what I’m talking about,” his eyebrows raised with confidence. “You adore this moment.”

You launched forward, getting up from your seat where you previously sat. The desk was discarded and moved as you pushed it away when you got up. You backed him up into the nearest wall, your hands gripped his throat. Chokes and whines of disbelief came out of his mouth as you strained your hands on him. His eyes were half-closed, expecting some sort of offensive reaction to come from you.

“I fucking hate you. I hate your stupid, little arrogant, no good influence— I want to kill you, Riddle-“

He gasped, not expecting this sort of reaction to come from you. The last thing he’d expect is for you to actually come after him. “Y/N…”

Your hands were still, but the grasp was firm. His warm neck and erratically beating pulse made your hands shiver. You longed for this moment for years, but you let go. Apologies followed after your hands dropped to your sides. His brown eyes dropped to the floor, his mouth silent as the glooming atmosphere filled the both of you up.

“I-I’m sorry, Tom… I didn’t mean that,” your hands came to both sides of his cheeks. One hand drooped to his neck, caressing the spot where you held onto him for too long. His hand came up to his cheek, holding onto your wrist for a moment.

“What for?” The words shocked you. You didn’t expect Tom Riddle to be so… forgiving? He pulled you closer to him, lingering into your eyes for one moment too long. He dangerously held your hips, and by dangerously, his grasp was way too tight for you. As a result, the muscles in his hands flexed. You took notice of this, tilting your head back up to him, but this time, his lips were what you were looking at.

“You know, I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” you paused for a moment. “I’m sorry I took it too far. I-I should’ve realized you were uncomfortable.” His eyes stuck to you, watching your every slight breath as you hyperventilated, your chest quickly raising up and down. “I’m realizing how terribly I’ve treated y-“

His lips met yours. Starved. He switched spots with you, quickly turning you around too fast for you to notice. He backed you up into the wall, pushing you up against him and you only. Your eyes shot open for a second, bewildered and feeling like you were on a high you’ve never expected. His delicate touch made your eyes close with satisfaction. You knew this is what you wanted. After all, he could’ve chosen anyone—you were special.

Every movement, you felt your tongue desperately fighting with his. He picked you up, instinctively wrapping your legs around his waist. He sat you down on the desk, his lips moving down to your neck. Your shaky breaths made him chuckle. “How needy?” He asked, rhetorically.

He leaned to your stomach, this time, moving closer down to your pelvic area. You pulled at him., tugging his hair. “What if somebody comes in?” “Nobody’s coming in,” he whispered a quick locking spell, and you heard the doorknob jiggle and lock.

“Be quiet for me, and maybe, just maybe, I won’t despise you so much.” You nodded, allowing him to move closer and closer to your skirt. He pulled up your skirt, noting the dark-colored underwear that was now prized in front of him. He ripped your stalkings with his hands, tearing the nylon off as it hung around your thighs. He pulled your underwear aside, his index finger moving it to the opposite side of your leg. You breathed heavily, waiting for him to touch you. He stared at you, like you were a possession he gladly owned. His calloused fingers took a swipe of your pussy, carefully analyzing how your arousal felt on his fingers and stuck to them when he parted his index and middle finger.

“I’d bet galleons this is how you constantly felt around me, isn’t it?” You stared blankly, feeling like you were lost in your own thoughts. He touched your clit, quickly making your thighs shiver and jerk. You looked down at him, where his eyes met yours. You felt special. He made quick moves with your clit, rubbing it with his thumb as he saw how your eyes squeezed shut. He played with you, teasing as his other fingers played with your entrance, dipping in and out. He plunged both fingers in, desperately finding your g-spot as he pulled them back and forth between your entrance.

“Y-yeah, this—this is how I’ve thought of you. Fuck!” You exclaimed. He smirked, going at you with a much faster pace. His fingers made quick work of you, showing how talented he was considering he was making you feel this good only with his fingers.

“I.. I think-“ You moaned, loudly. He stopped, pulling his fingers out of you and his thumb stopped rubbing your clit. You pouted, begging for attention.

“If you’re not going be quiet, I’d advise you to pull your panties right back and your skirt down, and to shut the fuck up,” he said, emotionless. You were confused.

“Okay, I’m sorry, Tom… Please, fuck me. Okay? I promise- I promise I’ll be very good for you. Only you,” you pleaded, begging for him to continue.

He entered his fingers right back in. He fucked you at a much faster pace, squelchy noises emitted from the friction he was making as he continued fucking you at a speed that wasn’t known well to you. It was like he knew your body. You covered your mouth, holding it tightly as your legs wrapped against him. He pulled his fingers out, leaning in as his tongue substituted his fingers. He rubbed your clit in circles with his tongue, lapping up all of your juices. His hands grasped your thighs tightly as your legs wrapped around his head. Your back arched, rubbing against him for release.

Without a warning, he asked, “Cum for me, darling.” His tongue moved at a faster pace, licking your entrance as it quickly entered in you, eating your pussy out.

“Oh my God…” You exhaled, releasing all over his face. It didn’t take him long to use his tongue to lick all of your pleasure up. You moaned as he overstimulated you, licking you clean. “So fucking perfect,” he praised you. His jaw flexed, his eyes filled with pleasure.

He got up, off of his knees. “What are you doing?” You asked him, watching him unbuckle his pants uniform, unzipping his pants. He took his boxer waistline, taking both of his pants and his boxers right off. His cock sprung to his chest. His tip leaked with pre-cum. You eyed his cock, imagining how his girth would feel violating your walls.

“What’s that? You want me to violate your walls with my cock?” He exclaimed, chucking as your eyes widened with both fear and euphoria.

“Spit in my hand. Now.” You obeyed, a wad of spit pooled the middle of his palm. He moved his hand to his cock, lubing his cock with your saliva. He smirked, watching your legs widen and your pussy glisten with the mix of his tongue residue and your arousal. He continued jerking his cock, placing a hand on your thigh, the other hand guiding his cock to your entrance. He rubbed the tip of his cock up and down, noting how your legs tensed.

“Don’t be tense.… Let me pleasure you.”His hand touched your face carefully, moving down to your shirt. He fidgeted your buttons, unbuttoning your blouse and throwing it aside as he exposed your bra. Visioning how your tits would look, he quickly unbuttoned your bra, then moving your skirt and pulling it off. You helped him out, hopping off the table and doing the same by taking off his shirt, unbuttoning his uniform. You touched his tone body, admiring his chest.

Quickly, he turned you around, bending you over the desk. He leaned against you, lining his cock up to your entrance. He stuck his cock into you, causing your mouth to part an ‘o’. His movements became quick and aggressive, moving into you at a fast pace. You tried suppressing your moans, but he pulled your hair, yanking it back. It allowed him to continuously fuck your g-spot perfectly, making your grip on the desk turn your knuckles white. He pounded into you at an unforgivable pace, the sounds of skin contact made it unbearable—impossible, you noted. There was no way anybody couldn’t hear this.

“Fuck, you’re so.. so good,” you moaned, his hand tight, yanking your hair. Tears stained your cheeks from the combination pleasure of his cock ruining your walls and his hand pulling your hair towards him.

He violently snapped his hips into you. He took the opportunity to kiss your bare and exposed neck, biting down on your shoulder as he claimed you.

“Nobody’s going to fuck you the same. Nobody’s gonna love you the same. I’m going to be the one you think of when you dare touch yourself on those dark, dim nights alone. You’ll remember this moment like it’s the last thing you’ll ever think of. I am your permanent memoria.” He saw the dark mark on your neck, and he bit it again, piercing his teeth through your skin. You cried out, tears streaming down your face. Blood pooled, causing him to smile. He licked your shoulder like your blood was candy to him.

His hip movements became more unfocused, coming close to a sign that he was near to cumming right inside of you. He gripped your hips tightly, his fingers digging into you.

“I’m going to fucking- Cum-“ And like that, he released right inside of you. The hot liquid filled your inside as he pushed his cock to your cervix, painting your deepest points white with his cum.

You fell limp. He took notice of it, and took his now once erect cock out of you. He helped you get dressed, before noticing your stalkings were completely torn. He grabbed his wand, casting a spell that would fix your broken nylon stalkings. You thanked him with tired eyes, completely exhausted from pain and pleasure. He got dressed, fixing his belt as he kept an eye on you. He carefully unlocked the door, speeding over towards you to grab you, carrying your frail body into his arms. He kissed your forehead, walking through the empty halls to his Slytherin house, coldly staring at any suspecting and confused individuals who stared at the both of you with daggers, then to his room. He opened the door, placing you on the bed. He unraveled the cover, pulling it over you completely to keep you warm. Your eyes shut, head turned to the opposite side of him.

“Sleep well, beauty.”

[shaisuki]

“what's your favorite color?”

megumi asked you, out of the blue. the child sitting beside you while you both looked at the people passing by. his legs swinging a little.

“let me think. it's mmm...”

megumi looks to his side. studying your face while you think of your favorite color. your lips quirking to the side, eyebrows furrowed up. when you reached your answer, your face lightened up.

“blue. my favourite color is blue, megumi.”

“why is that?” he asked once again. your eyebrows raising. megumi never asked for trivial questions such as where do babies come from or something simple as what's your favorite color but the boy's asking and you're more than willing to answer him. an attempt to connect with you and you smiled softly at him.

“it's reminds me of everything that makes me happy, megumi. the sky, the sea and it's the color of his eyes...” megumi gave you a confusing look when your voice died down at the last words.

before he can ask anything again, a annoying, all-too familiar voice interrupted him.

“hello, my two favorite creatures.” slinging his arms in megumi and to you. giving you a large smooch in your cheek and gojo looks to the side. a huge grin breaking out in his face and you swore you never seen megumi so scared before grabbing gojo's blindfold to stop him from terrorizing the poor child.

“satoru, i swear. megumi's going to kill you in your sleep—one day. stop annoying the child.” you warned to him, wringing his blindfold which made him wince from the pain.

“such a meanie—(y/n)!” he pouts, pinching your round cheeks — his cold, long fingers squeezing the flesh with no remorse. this is revenge and seeing you wince, eyebrows knitting in pure annoyance earns the biggest smirk from him. gojo would relish it for a little longer but seeing megumi sending daggers to him made him stop.

“phew. that was tough.” gojo casually began. attempting for the conversation to divert — feigning innocence like he didn't hurt your cheeks and ignoring megumi's glare at him.

“that hurts, satoru.” rubbing the sore spot in your round cheek. you'd be lucky if it didn't bruise. that would really be a pain in the ass.

“it wasn't that hard!” he retaliates. defending his own doings and you just shake your head. arguing with him would be pointless. knowing how gojo never back down. no matter how stupid it is.

“never mind. gumi you want to get ice cream?” pointing out the ice cream truck and megumi nods.

“what about me?!”

“satoru, you're an adult. get it on your own.” reaching out for megumi's hand in which he gladly accepts. his smaller hand holding yours. walking away from the white-haired male wearing blindfold with megumi in your grasp.

you gulped, looking at the corner of your eyes — only to find gojo standing and silent and him being quiet staring at you and megumi, there's chaos brewing in that brain of his and it's never good. it means trouble and despite the park having a fairly amount of people, it's no question he will be doing it.

in which you prepared for the worst. maybe, you can escape it this time.

“megumi.” you call out to the boy. responding to you with a hum. “prepare yourself. your other guardian is going to cause trouble again.” you whispered to him and megumi sweats a little. knowing how this one will end up. could he just have you as his and tsumiki's only guardian? not that troublesome adult who didn't seem to grow up—maturely. beggars can't be choosers or something like that, he knows he owe it to the man but sometimes he don't know how much longer he can endure it. megumi's glad you're around to balance, keep him calm but it never lasts.

you both turned around, and gojo seems like a statue standing there while watching you both and in cue, “run!” you told megumi. bolting to find a place to hide or escape and hoping you'd lost that boyfriend/troublesome idiot of yours.

with you and megumi holding your hand for dear life. yeah, it would be the death of you both if that idiot caught you two. you'll die of embarrassment.

then a full chase began around the park and with lessons yet still to learn and will never be taught. you forgot how gojo's long strides are and with the speed with you and megumi running in even at the headstart. too worried about the shenanigans gojo will bestow to you both.

“gotcha’ (y/n)-chan.” he said in a sing-song voice and adding the chan when teasing you and you felt yourself being lifted up with no chance of escape and you let go of megumi's hand.

“run, gumi!” you told the kid in which he reluctantly obeyed not wanting to leave you but knowing you, he ran in a safe distance watching as you squirmed at his other guardian who won't give you any mercy.

“satoru! put me down this instant!” in which gojo didn't comply. holding your middle with both of his hands while he spins you around. making you squeal and you swear you could feel the stares of multiple eyes.

“nope.” gojo flatly declares.

even with your weight, he still make you feel like you were the lightest person on the planet.

megumi watched in the distance, sitting in one of the tree roots sticking out in the ground. he could feel the annoyance creeping up on him but seeing you happy made him happy too. the annoyance barely affecting him while you laugh at gojo. he can hear the laughter and the cries you were making for the man-child to stop and megumi relished on that. he couldn't help but to feel a little upset about gojo, the man who stopped for letting him get sold by that so called family of his. he knows you and gojo had a life before him but seeing gojo takes all your attention away from him. he simply couldn't help it.

you gave him and tsumiki the utmost care, the unconditional love, making they were satisfied and making sure their wants and needs are met. catching the responsibilities they shouldn't be doing at their age for them to have a normal life. always going for the extra mile to have them taken care. you became the mother they never knew they needed. of course, that weird guy also gave them with the same amount of love but it would never match it with you.

with a plea and string of praises. of course, you complied. you didn't know if you could take more. face hot with embarrassment and your dress in a bunch. crinkling in the corners and you sighed looking at them. “you're the great and handsome gojo satoru! i love you with all my heart!” you shout earlier. never you thought you would stoop that low and just to feed his ego. you're not going to survive another whims he'll whip up. you were glad megumi's not part of it.

there's the casual silence, followed by the small bites in the ice cream you three bought. sitting in the bench under the sky with the soft breeze blowing.

“it's good?” you asked megumi and the boy looks at you and nods. bringing back his attention at his ice cream and you look at the man beside him. contentedly humming while he feasts on the cold treat.

“you got stain here, gumi.” swiping the boy's cheek with your thumb and he stops for a moment for you to clean it properly and goes back once again and gojo seeing it and being the jealous one. he accidentally smears the ice cream in his cheek. “mou~ (n/n) — i think i have some too.” he pouts and you look at him with “are you serious” look. knowing damn well it was intentional. he only smirks and points his cheek to emphasize. someday, you're going to have the chance to slap him, just once.

he leans down to you closer, dangerously close while you hold his jaw to avoid unnecessary movements and for you to wipe the sticky liquid in his face. “done.” you says and there's a cold sensation in your cheek. this bastard.

you decided to be the bigger person today cause if you fought back. there's a full on wild goose chase again. it couldn't be help. you accepted this idiot and you won't be leaving him anytime soon with megumi and tsumiki now in both of your lives.

you three sat there. watching people passed by with ice creams in your hands. it's a cool, windy day under the blue sky.

it felt like it was yesterday. the days and years passing in a blink of an eye and it slip backs into his memory why he asked you what's your favorite color. blue. you fondly told him that with a smile gracing in your lips and that is only memory that stuck him.

under the blue sky. the sunny days. where everybody is basked in it's warmth. the vastness of the blue sky and how it always be a reminder of the happy days. it's always brought a smile to your face, he would remember and he would smile too —a little.

he can't find himself to he happy nor feel a little joy under this weather. droplets of rain falling all over the road, the roofs and the cold wind blowing. puddles of water surrounding the area and he understands why such joyous moments only happens in a warm, sunny day with the blue sky—no clouds.

megumi didn't know what losing someone felt like and he got the first taste of it when tsumiki got cursed and now yours — it was different.

it felt like a ton of bricks and stone is put on him. he feels numb despite of it. he couldn't believe it. how could this happen? you were strong. that's why you survived for so long, enough to see him grow up to be the man he is now today but death's hand is unstoppable. the greatest power on earth couldn't prevent it.

he refuses to see your body laying down in the table. what's bright and warm smile you always give to him — it's gone. replaced by a cold and lifeless expression in front of him. he says he needed to see after all, to see is to believe and he wish he didn't.

the white blanket covering your body and he don't know if he'll cry or not. it's too much. gone too soon and what of your passing to his sensei.

gojo remains silent. the most silent he ever seen him. of course, the loudest he was is when with you. the banters, the witty remarks, your laugh, the squeals when he does something stupid. megumi knew gojo didn't need comfort, not from him. knowing that the cure for that pain is you . he's fighting his own battles too and despite what he felt for the man in his younger days, he still owes him. his life to him and to you.

with no parents stepping up and leaving them to fend for their own. you both came. remembering the day where you scolded gojo to never say anything stupid enough to spook them. he was first to be graced by your smile that day. assuring him that he and tsumiki will be fine. jabbing at gojo telling him that they were going to be fine and it was more than fine.

he couldn't ask anything for more and when the heart could no longer carry the heavy burden of you being gone. his eyes speaks for what the heart can't carry no more. excusing himself leaving the man who you deeply loved more than anything in the world and with the door closing. his eyes opened for the tears to fall.

he's no better than what's megumi feeling right now. fuck, didn't he just promised that he'll protect you so what the fuck this happened.

he wants to scream. curse every living person. his knuckles turning paler than it is — gripping his hair that it'll rip off. you were supposed to be coming home. alive and well. breathing with his name the first thing you'll say and you'd given him the most tight embrace you could muster. “i'm home, satoru.” you are never coming back home.

this is his reality.

he went to approach your body. you look so different. there your face. it was the most brightest when you smiled, laughed even, cried when he's teasing got overboard. he wouldn't get used to this. he needs you laughing and smiling. tell him you love him — that he's an insufferable asshole — that he's your idiot — that—that you're afraid of losing him.

he examined your face, from the shape of your eyes, to the roundness of your cheeks, to the fullness of your lips. you were still his. you look peaceful and he don't want that when you're laying in this table with the mountain of corpses who has been previous laid here.

he wants to see your eyes again. staring right back at him with much adoration and annoyance. he would tease you for hours for the reason your favorite color is blue cause it was the color of his eyes. he can't miss that what you'd told megumi that day. blue makes you happy. his eyes, him. he made you happy and that's important right? he made you happy with the duration of your life with him and that was meant to last for a lifetime with him but it's not going to happen.

he grasp your hand. it's hard and cold. no life and warmth in those hands. the very hands who tenderly cared for the siblings — the very hands who held him every night — that hands that cups his face and you would tell him straight in the eyes that you love him — so — so — much.

“i love you too, (y/n).” he says. slipping the ring he got after the day you both adopted megumi and tsumiki. you're both officially guardians to two children and that means a new start for a family. he didn't know what possessed him that day to get a ring. you're both young with the future ahead of you. it's seems unclear and yet he still got that. one day — one day. he will put that ring to your finger with a promise that he'll annoy you for the rest of your lives together.

he didn't even get to propose to you. always waiting for the right moment but never came and he thinks this is the right moment. he wants to laugh for how stupid he was. the ring would be nicely suited to your ring finger if you were still alive. a promise to spend the rest of your lives together and he can't do that now.

he kisses your forehead one last time before covering you with the blanket. this is goodbye, he guesses. he thinks you're in peace now — no pain, suffering. no one's going to harm you. you're at peace. he told himself.

no amount of grieving will ever rid the pain you inflicted with your passing to the both of them. with the heavy rain pouring.

there will be no promise of blue sky, after this.

[snghnlvr]

ok hear me out.. a contract/arranged marriage with any enha member, cliche stuff like yall not getting along n stuff plus yall prolly hate eo's guts. however one day, you got caught in some situation with a guy (idk ur ex or smth) which caused them to be jealous n yea yall fluff things out 🤭🤭

sign me up. | lee heeseung

lee heeseung x fem reader

synopsis : heeseung may have gotten a bit overboard when he saw your ex.

includes : 1.3k words | angst | little fluff towards the ending | haechan appearance! | abusive past relationship | heeseung is not jealous … sorry he’s more … angry :)

extra : first heeseung work!! | i literally change the scenario last minute because i find angry tuexdo heeseung quite hot <3 | little fluff because they like to argue | yn is petty but heeseung doesn’t care | bad employees talking shit about heeseung 👎 | heeseung saves the day!! | this picture of heeseung as a reference … MADE ME FERAL💢💢

(p.s no i’m not normalizing abusive relationships.)

likes, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3

[below the cut]

you’re staring at your untouched plate of food in front of you. the low volume of chattering and jazz music playing, it made you be in a sea of thoughts.

the fabric of your dress made you feel queasy, questioning as to why you’re the person being told to do this. it felt weird. the atmosphere felt weird overall. it didn’t feel right to be in this situation.

your sweaty fingertips lingered around your bare thigh.

the lights reflected on your white plate.

the smoke of the food disappeared into thin air without you noticing.

you didn’t want to spend your night like this.

you didn’t like the feeling of someone that you utterly hate your guts with, in front of you.

unwavering and eyes just wandering around in boredom, no one dared to speak.

your eyes were filled with hatred with every second spent with your husband. your husband that you were arranged for marriage with. you couldn’t reject - you couldn’t even say no because both parents wanted this opportunity to raise their reputation for their jobs. sometimes you hated being rich and just want to be born in a normal life.

you hated lee heeseung with all of your guts because how cocky he is as an individual. with being born with a silver spoon, he doesn’t shut up with his mouth and likes to irritate you because he’s ‘always right’. if someone doesn’t like his idea, he would immediately fire him.

in the evening of 7:00pm, heeseung’s mother arranged dinner for the both of you just to spend more time as a husband and wife.

“you’re gonna have to eat the pasta one way or another.”

you rolled your eyes at your husband’s words. “you could’ve said no to your mother’s request. i know you dont wanna be here either.” you shrugged.

you looked at heeseung as he wears a hardened expression at the mention of earlier.

“it’s my mother, i can’t just say no to her.”

you scoffed at his words. you find it ironic how he doesn’t say no to his mom but says no to his wife.

when you walked into your bedroom, there was a tuxedo and a matching dress on the bed. you sighed. you admit that it’s a beautiful piece, you just felt like it didn’t belong onto your body.

“oh but when i have a say in something, you say no?” you tilted your head to the side, acting confused towards heeseung who seemed bothered with your words. “what a reliable and caring husband to have.” you sarcastically spitted.

“i am considerate with your words. you’re just making reckless decisions and not understanding my perspective.” heeseung’s fist curled up on his lap. you noticed how intense he was staring at you but you didn’t falter.

“your perspective? all i’m saying that as your wife, i should have the privilege to work alongside with you!”

“maybe if you think before speaking you probably would!”

there was nothing but tension as you eyed heeseung without flinching. you became quiet as you realized that you’re in a public environment. it would be pointless to argue here.

heeseung mentioned earlier on how you talked back to his employees and rejected their ideas to make your own ideas stand out to the lee family. you can’t blame yourself, you were just helping your husband not fall into their tricks and make his branding fall into shambles.

you’re well aware of his reputation among his workers. he’s not very well liked because of his attitude. although you felt a bit bad for the bad mouthing, you also agreed on some of their pointers but you kept your mouth shut.

“i was just helping..” you rolled your eyes, leaning back to your chair with your arms crossed and your mouth pouting as you speak.

“look y/n i know-”

“whatever,” you interrupted his words. you didn’t want to hear what he was gonna say.

you stood up after you pulled your purse to your shoulder. “i’m going to the restroom.” you didn’t look at heeseung’s eyes and walked straight to the restroom with your heels clinking away.

heeseung eyed you with the tip of his tongue touching his lip. he took a deep breath in as you shamelessly walked away. he knows how petty you can be during an argument.

however, he can’t help but let his eyes linger your body a bit longer than usually as you disappear from his sight.

as you finished washing your hands and drying them out, you walked outside with your head cooled off.

“y/n.” you turned around only to be shocked from seeing someone very familiar.

“haechan?” you called out softly to make sure it’s the right person you’re looking to.

the male figure smiled upon your calling.

then your heart dropped.

your intuition was correct. your ex is under the same building as you. it’s been two years since you’ve maren haechan especially when you decided to break up with him because he was starting to become violent towards you. as selfish you are, you immediately called it off which obviously pissed haechan off.

“i knew my mind wasn’t playing tricks.” haechan started to take a step closer to you as you were busy staring at haechan at how physically he has changed, making you worried.

you cursed at whoever made the hallway from the dining area to the restroom so far.

“how are you y/n?” you shivered at the way he said your name. with much venom. you hated the way that he’s smirking at you when he saw that you became frozen.

you gulped. your eyes trailed to the floor in front of you so you try to walk as fast as you can without your heartbeat dropping to the floor.

flashbacks from your relationship occurred in your head. thoughts of haechan hitting and verbally abusing you made your body be in cold sweat.

before you can take two more steps, you felt your wrist being tugged forcefully. as your body instinctively turned around, it all went too fast when your head was pounded to the concrete wall and a hand choked around your neck, making you cough and gasp for air.

you became dizzy as the pain began to consume your head. you lowered your head, trying to redeem consciousness as you kept your hand on haechan’s grip whom never wants to let go.

“you bastard!”

then hand from your neck disappeared. your body slowly slide down to the wooden floor as you heard multiple gasps around you.

you try to look across at what was happening and you were too shocked to process your husband currently beating the living shit out of your ex.

“don’t fucking touch my wife like that you hear me!?” you heard heeseung’s voice being laced with nothing but anger and viciousness as his body was on topped of haechan, gripping his collar and eyeing him with every death stare. “you deserve to go to jail, you fucker!” you heard another groan from haechan

you noticed a bit of blood on the corner of haechan’s lips before coughing on air.

a staff came up to you, giving you their immediate attention. “are you okay?” they asked gently as you nodded continuously. “yes..” you breathe out.

“y/n-“ heeseung’s hands softly gripped your jaw, making you turn to him. you can obviously hear how worried he sounded and how angry he looked. “are you okay? what did that fucker do to you?” heeseung stared at the redness of your neck, indicating how rough haechan was to you.

“i’m sorry..” you whispered, trying to look up at him but you eyes kept closing because of the pain. “i’m sorry about earlier..” you whimpered when heeseung gently pressed on the spot that your head was badly hit in.

although you may have hate heeseung’s guts but he’s the only person who understands your struggles with being born as a silver spoon. sometimes both you go have deep conversations late at night alone in your bedroom, whether he talks first or you.

“no shut up, don’t mention about that right now.” you can hear the irritation of his voice that always never fails to make you giggle.

“we’re going home and i’m making that jerk rot in hell.” compared to heeseung’s harsh words, his hold on you was very gentle and delicate. his hand was holding your waist as his other hand was around your head, making sure that he doesn’t touch the injured area. your heart was beating fast because everything happened too fast - seeing your ex for the first time in 2 years and heeseung being in your arms in less than a minute.

“you’re cute when you’re mad.” you suddenly confessed as you dug your head to his chest in order to not look at haechan being escorted away from the staff. heeseung noticed as he kept your body close to his. you didn’t say anything, and he knew. he just silently lets you do what he wants and it makes your heart flutter whenever he does this to you.

with heeseung’s brave soul, he continued to stare at haechan until he’s out of his sight. you slowly fell asleep in heeseung’s warm arms protecting your figure until the ambulance arrives.

“don’t worry y/n, i’m here with you.” were the last words that you heard before falling asleep in his arms.

hope you enjoyed<3 MERRY CHRISTMAS <33

[all-too-unwell-13]

I've seen a few ppl talk about this but I'd also like to!!! so!!!!

Jason and Annabeth would've made better "rivals" out of the seven than Percy and Jason.

if it is absolutely necessary to have a set of rivals in the seven, which it really isn't, it would've made more sense for Jason and Annabeth.

okay, I know Jason and Percy are children of the big three, Zeus and Poseidon, who don't really get along, but why does that mean Percy and Jason can't? if they'd had more time and weren't basically brainwashed into disliking each other, I think they'd have become really close friends.

Percy's humour evens out Jason's lack thereof (though he definitely does have a sense of humour in there somewhere, he was just never given the chance to find it), and as we saw a few times, they were really powerful when they fought together. Jason is logical and cautious, Percy is impulsive and quick. they even each other out. if anything, they should've been closer friends than any of the seven.

ok, back to the rivalry. so, it's said multiple times during MoA that Annabeth never really trusted Jason. she thought (correct me if I'm wrong, it's been a while since I read the books) Jason was too controlled and quiet.

also, Jason and Annabeth probably have more in common than any other duo from the seven, and that's not even their physical descriptions.

they're both smart and logical, preferring to think things through properly before making decisions, and they both use this during battle, for example.

Annabeth never really trusting Jason could've also added to their rivalry; it would've made her more apprehensive of everything he said, right? so, just imagine the seven getting into a rough situation and needing somebody with brains to figure it out. of course, we have Annabeth, daughter of Athena, who's known for being smart; but you also have Jason, son of Jupiter, who is cautious, careful, and logical. imagine they come to different conclusions, and argue about which is right.

their rivalry would've been so cool! two super smart people getting different answers for the same situation, both seemingly right, but who's do the seven follow through with? the natural choice would be Annabeth, who is, again, a daughter of Athena, who is the goddess of wisdom. it could've added to the story; having Leo and Piper side with Jason's answer, for example, and having Frank, Hazel, and Percy side with Annabeth.

but with Percy and Jason's so-called "rivalry," that really made no sense because they hardly knew each other, it's just two awkward and powerful 16 year olds, whose dislike for each other stems from their godly parents not getting along. it makes no sense. especially because Percy isn't the type of person to judge people based on their godly parents, so why would he have a pointless rivalry with someone just because his dad and their dad aren't exactly best friends? it doesn't seem like a very Percy Jackson thing to do, in my opinion.

so yeah. I think it would've made more sense to put a rivalry between two characters who have more in common, over two people who literally met yesterday and don't know anything about each other (except, of course, Jason hearing about the 'all-powerful Percy Jackson' stuff from CHB). I really do think that a rivalry in general wasn't necessary, and it didn't really add anything solid to the plot or storyline.

[sxriusblxck]

hi pretty baby <333

i have a bit of a request if you don’t mind hehe :) i was hoping this could be a longer fic (maybe 1k?) but if not it’s no worries whatsoever baby :)

but back to the request,,, i was thinking gn!reader with poly!marauders but it really focuses on the dynamo between remus, sirius, and reader? maybe how they take care of eachother with james just being a proud mom LOL

i hope this isn’t too vague and if you need more details, you know where to reach me ;)

—🌿

hi baby!! love this request :)

warnings: arguing, non-sexual nudity, food mentions, very dialogue heavy, one murder mention, james is kind of in the background a bit but he still love him <33

word count: 1,189

masterlist

i know the reader just woke up then they fall asleep so please ignore my poor mistake lolll

Bickering is the first thing you hear when you wake.

Your eyes haven't fully opened, and your brain is still clouded with morning fog, but you can make-out the sounds of arguing.

"It's my turn, Moony." You hear Sirius's stern voice hiss, quiet like he's trying not to be a disturbance but firm enough to get his point across.

"No s' not!" Remus huffs back, sounding annoyed. "You got to yesterday."

"No! Prongs did." The former growls.

"Will ya' both jus' shut up?" James groans, fed-up with the two's childish and pointless arguing. "You're gonna wake them up with all this before either of ya' get the chance to do it properly!"

"What's going on?" You grumble sleepily.

"See!" James hisses.

Your eyes open and the first thing you see is Remus and Sirius on their bed, disappointed looks crossing their faces after they see you're awake. James is sat at one of the three desk's in the dorm, twiddling a quill with his fingers.

"What is it?" You repeat, knuckling at your closed eye as you shift into a seated position.

Sirius sighs, falling back against his bed with his hands over his face, no doubt pouting underneath his palms.

"Siri wanted to be the one to wake you up but it was my turn. He's always trying to-

"Well." You cut him off before he can go to insult Sirius. "M'awake now so it doesn't matter."

"And who's fault is that?" Sirius jeers beneath his hands.

"Oi shut up!"

"Alright." You stand. "I'm going for a shower."

"I'm coming!" Sirius squeaks, nearly flying off the bed in his haste to get to the bathroom before either boy could.

Remus whines, accepting his defeat as he slumps against the mattress. You smile, rewarding him a kiss as you pass his bed.

"Now, Sirius-"

Your attempt to tell him off was halted when you walk into the bathroom, finding your stark-naked lover stood by the sink, two towels folded neatly with lotion, toothpaste, and a washcloth readied on the countertop.

"Yes?" He grins, hands placed on his hips to amuse you.

"Get in the shower." You snort.

After the two of you had showered and dressed, you were left with a boring, lazy day ahead of you. Not that anyone minded, rainy days were the groups favorites.

"Can we watch one of those muggle films?" James asks, pulling a Quidditch jumper over his head.

"Sure." You hum, snuggled between two warm bodies on Remus's bed. His was the coziest, made akin to a den with how many blankets and pillows he'd acquired.

"Right." James smiles. "I'll go find some snacks and you guys pick something."

After he leaves, the three of you are left in a comfortable silence, minus the pitter-patter of raindrops hitting the window.

"Move your arm?" Sirius requests.

Remus, who's arm had been wedged uncomfortably under Sirius's and your back, shifts so that it's fit in a more accommodating spot.

"There?" He asks.

Sirius hums contently, moving his head so it rests atop yours, letting Remus wiggle his fingers along his scalp, his other hand tracing at your side under your shirt.

"Someone tickle my arm." You request, pulling said arm from under the blanket to offer to your boys.

"Needy little thing." Remus jests as Sirius pinches your hip.

Sirius is the one to do it, not wanting his hair to stop being pet. He uses the tips of his fingers to ghost over your arm, goosebumps following his trail as his nails scratch lightly at your skin.

Your thanks is muttered sleepily into the somewhat silent room, heard by both boys and acknowledged by Sirius with a hum, continuing to scratch gently at your forearm.

By the time James arrives back with a mix of savory and sweet treats, the three of you are fast asleep, Remus's hand entwined in Sirius (now tangled) locks with you sandwiched between them, body barely visible as the two squish into your back and chest.

All he can do is smile, place the forgotten snacks on the desk, kick his shoes off, and crawl into bed with the three of you.

The ruined movie night had been a week ago.

The four of you had decided on a redo, a film already queued-up and ready to play, snacks situated on the nightstand, blankets tucked around you.

The set-up went like this:

James was on the far left, back against the headboard, bucket of popcorn in his lap. Remus was to the right of him, arm slung around your shoulder, slightly lower on the bed. You were between Remus and Sirius, pillow against your chest as you chewed on a candy. Sirius was slung over you like a koala, whole body nearly draped over yours.

The movie was a horror, and despite Remus's normally strong and stoic attitude, he was jumping and flinching at every jump-scare.

"Would ya' quit jumping, you big baby? You're rocking the whole bed!" Sirius sneers from beside you.

"Shut up!" Remus squeaks. "James picked a scary one."

"No, you're just a wimp."

"Quit it." You cut in, glaring harshly up at your lover. "He can't help it if he's scared. And might I remind you that just last week you screamed like a little girl when you saw a spider?"

Sirius flushes crimson red, quickly shutting his mouth and returning his focus back to the film.

James watches the exchange with a smile, proud of your shutting-Sirius-up tactics and slightly amused with his two boyfriends bickering.

"Can I have one of those strawberry ropes?" Remus asks, nudging your side to grab your attention.

You nod, snatching the pack of Twizzlers off Sirius's lap to hand to Remus.

"Those are mine." A petulant Sirius Black calls from your left.

"I jus' want one." Remus murmurs, looking over to the long-haired boy with a soft look.

"Kay." He whispers, melted by Remus's gentle tone and doe eyes. He'd never admit it aloud, but he swore Remus could ask him to commit murder in that voice, and he'd do it without hesitation.

"Whipped." You say through a faked cough into your fist.

"Shut up, they're being sweet." James chuckles as Remus pinches you.

The rest of the movie passes by with small conversation and more squealing from Remus, finishing forty-minutes later with a shitty ending that has you all moderately irritated and not the least bit satisfied.

"No one knows how to make a movie these days." Sirius grumbles unhappily, a handful of Twizzlers stuffed into his mouth.

"Agreed." You grunt, twisting onto your side to get comfortable.

"Bet I could make a better film than that." James pipes-up, throwing the blanket off of himself to trudge to the bathroom.

"We could." Sirius chirps. "What'd it be about?"

"Probably a thriller." James calls, voice muffled with toothpaste. "A couple with a murderous baby."

The boys all snort, and you can feel yourself drifting.

"We could have it set in the future, think that would be cool." Remus adds his two-cents.

"Oooh a futuristic killer baby!" Is the last thing you hear before falling into a dreamless sleep.

[izzyhandswhore]

Would love to see your hcs of reader taking Izzy out on a date at the beach! :3

((What a cute idea!! Poor man needs to relax a bit. Also is anyone going absolutely FERAL at that new clip?? Because sdbaekfasjfd)) Taking Izzy for a date at the beach!

So after arguing with Stede that pirates don't actually take vacations and time spent docked at a beach is time wasted, Izzy turns to you for backup.. Only to find you've already swapped your weapons for one of Stede's lace parasols. With a heavy sigh, he's defeated.

You take him by the hand and happily drag him away from the rest of the crew to have a private beach day away from the explosives testing, quite public make out sessions and makeshift, boisterous games (not naming any names). You even bring along some sandwiches Roach made, a bottle of rum and some other beachy supplies all carried in a little bucket (that's a secret mousketool we'll use later).

He still tries to argue that this is pointless and the two of you have seen a million beaches over the years, but you still point out how nice the sunshine is, how beautiful the sea looks and generally how peaceful it all is. He'd usually find relentless optimism annoying, but it's different with you. Eventually you get him to admit that the quiet is nice at least.

The two of you sit on the sand and look out at the horizon, hand in hand, letting him have his peace and quiet for a while. You toe your boots off and dig your feet in the sand, just enjoying the feeling. Izzy argues that him taking his shoes off would give him a disadvantage if an ambush or something was to occur but of course he can never really say no to you. If you pay close attention you can see him visibly relax as his feet sink into the sand. He squeezes your hand just that little bit tighter.

After some rest, food/drink and light conversation it's like Izzy is a completely different person in the best way. You didn't realise how much you missed his laugh and smile until now... He laughs at you even more when you take the bucket and start teaching him how to make sandcastles.

Okay hear me out. At first Izzy is laughing at you and insisting that this is completely childish and affectionately calling you mad.. And then you lose him to the sandcastle. The man is running back and forth to the sea to get water for better structure. He's digging moats. You hunt down seashells and driftwood and he makes little windows and defenses from them. He has such an intense look of concentration on his face but you can tell that he's so happy.. This is probably the first time he's allowed himself to "play" since he was a child, though of course you don't point this out to him or he'd probably stop.

By the time you're done you've built an entire sand fortress which is pretty impressive considering your lack of tools. You've both also got yourselves hot and sweaty, especially Izzy with his leather. So next stop is a quick dip in the sea. He may also need a bit of coaxing for this one, but it's a lot easier than it was at the start of the day. You take him by the hand again and the two of you step into the cold water, taking the piss out of each other for any gasps or hesitations, daring each other to go further and further..

Once he's up to about his knees he insists he's not going any further until you go beyond his reach and "lose your footing". Immediately he's by your side and pulling you up, seriously worried until he sees that you're laughing. You think he's going to be angry with you but instead he initiates what becomes a full-blown water fight. You're both splashing each other and hurling stupid affectionate insults and eventually it devolves into just wrestling each other into the water. He wins every time of course, but he never actually hurts you. Eventually you call a breathless truce and are left just holding each other in the water as the sun starts to set.

Izzy looks at you like you're his whole world then. He touches your face so gently and thanks you for the day, telling you he knows what he's like and how it's been worse since joining the Revenge and everything. He tells you he's not ungrateful for you and everything you do for him. He knows. You just smile and shut him up with a kiss that tastes like salt and rum. He only pulls away when the sea breeze finally makes you shiver and he realises he should get you home.

The two of you leave your sandcastle standing and return to the crew. You notice him sneaking glances at you in your wet clothing and the way it clings to your skin.. He stammers and gets all flustered if you or the crew point it out though. He takes you back aboard the ship to change clothes and get you all warmed up.. How you guys go about that is up to you <3

The night ends with a big bonfire on the beach with the whole crew. Frenchie starts a sing-along, rum is shared around and all in all it's just good vibes.

[prettyboykatsuki]

a glimpse of us | bkdk x reader

✧ tags ;; fem!reader (afab, she/they pronuns used), cigarettes / nicotine addiction, drinking to cope, heavy hurt/comfort, polyamorous negotiations, arguing, unhealthy coping, miscommunications / bad communication, rebounding, getting together, bkdk interact both sexually and intimately, oral (m+f recieving), threesomes, double penetration, anal fingering / anal with prep, intimacy, no power dynamics but reader is confident sexually, petnames (sweetheart, baby), 18+, mdni

✧ wc ;; 19.8k (putting on my clown shoes)

✧ a/n;; i wrote this for me and no one else and you will notice this right away. my bkg bias is also kinda present HDFJKSD

✧ synopsis ;; you always knew you were a stand-in. why wouldn't you be? but you hoped that at least once, he saw you for what you were. that all those years together meant something more.

You haven’t touched a cigarette since your last year of college. 

It’s the middle of the night, and the September air is colder than you know what to do with. Part of you knows you should wear a jacket since the weather is persistently bad. It’ll storm soon. 

But another part of you doesn’t really care if you get sick. So, instead of dwelling - you follow your whims and rub the sleep out of your eyes. Sitting up in your bed, all of your limbs feel heavy. Your eyes are swollen almost shut, crusty from a long night of crying and drinking. 

You laugh a little humorlessly for being so upset about the whole thing, sober enough to do so. Right now, at least after some sleep, you feel okay. Not bad, definitely not good, but okay. And you want to smoke a cigarette, which is probably a sign that you’re not coping with this as well as you’ve hoped.

You don’t think about it. You choose not. Instead, you swing your legs over the side of your bed and stand to your feet. You look around your room. Your cat, Ganache, is asleep in a cardboard box, making you laugh. Your laundry is in a pile, and your work is sprawled all over your desk. Tomorrow, you’ll finish some of it and maybe take a hike alone. 

There’s no light in your room besides the moon, covered by clouds. Through the glass doors in your bedroom - leading to the balcony, you look at it for a long time. The sky is starless. It’s light pollution, but somehow it feels like you. Lonely.

You laugh at your own misery and walk to the bathroom to examine your face. You’re worse for wear. Your hair hasn’t been touched in god knows how long, and your face is covered in oil. Reaching your hands out for the faucet, you run the warm water, pumping face wash into your hands and rubbing your skin maybe a little harder than necessary. 

You don’t want to think about it. Your fingers scrub along your cheek, and around the area of your nose that gets crusty during the cooler season. Splashing warm water into your skin, you wash the soap away and pat it dry into a towel. 

Better, you think while looking into the mirror. At least a little bit. 

You put some cream on, and some chapstick but don’t bother brushing your teeth. It’d be pointless to do it now, knowing you’re going to smoke yourself halfway through a pack and it’ll linger on your lips for days. 

You don’t change out of your PJs. Worn basketball shorts, and a muscle tank top that shows off the skin stay on. You rummage around in your drawer for a windbreaker and put it on over your clothes. It’s 2 sizes too big but covers you decently. 

Before you leave your apartment, you give your cat a little rub on the head but don’t wake her. You grab your keys, some pepper spray, and a lighter and shove them into your pocket before taking a look around your barren apartment. 

You were planning on moving out, just a few weeks ago, somewhere closer to them. The irony isn’t lost on you.  

You turn the knob and close the door behind you - checking to make sure it’s locked before descending down your hallway. There’s a single light at the end but the rest is dark. It’s a quiet walk. You take an elevator to the first floor. and then leave the whole place behind. 

You turn your head to look at it, worried it’ll disappear for a minute. Afterward, you’re out on the street alone for the first time in a long time. 

You tilt your head back and stare at the sky. With chapped skin and the tip of your nose freezing, you look at the moon again. It cradles you. Alone, so utterly and terribly alone you think. But the two of you are alone together, and even though it’s silly - it keeps you from crying. 

You didn’t bring your headphones, though your phone is in your pocket.  Normally, being alone at night makes you nervous. You used to always have company or someone you could call. 

You could still probably call them. If you wanted. They’re heroes before they’re anything else. 

But the walk is simply cumbersome. You’re not afraid. Too numb, or too desperate to hold onto the brief relief of apathy to be afraid. Nothing happens on the walk there, but you’re not really paying attention. Even if the world collapsed right now, you wouldn’t know. 

You know you’re at your location because the light is almost blinding. The luminescent glow of the neon lights makes your vision feel bleary, flickering red kanji and sterile white from the inside. You look around to see no one else is really there, aside from you.

You hesitate to walk in. Is it worth it to break a 4-year streak over this?

But you can feel the itch in your throat, the dryness in your mouth. The memory of relief overwhelms your every sense. Your stomach lurches, scratching your neck. 

You walk into the store. 

A noise goes off, a little ding. The person at the cash register doesn’t even lift his head to look at you. A college student, you think. He looks young. 

You miss college, sometimes. You were a lot more of a mess. Stressed out, frantic, with a fully functioning liver  at the start which was nice. But at least then, everything felt more temporary. Every wound felt like it would heal,  no matter how big. Everything felt like an impactful part of your growth. 

And it’s not like you’re not growing anymore, but now misery just feels like misery. You don’t feel it as much as you live it passively. You have bills to pay. A pet to take care of. Parents old enough to retire. So every bad thing just becomes part of the wave that crashes at your feet every so often. 

If this happened in college, you’d be crying and partying and whatever else. You wouldn’t be as desperate to move on, maybe. Letting yourself be broken was a luxury that you didn’t think you still had.

But you don’t want that for yourself either. You just want to stop it altogether and disappear. Under a cloud of white, or the stream of a creak. You just want to go. 

You can’t though. Can’t leave. Can’t uproot yourself into new soil, so you lean into old habits for comfort.

Smoking helps you disappear. Your lungs, passively intaking the nicotine and replacing the remaining parts of you. 

You search the fridges for a 6 pack of beers. Some cat food, some microwave meals, a candy bar. You take it all in your hands and dump it onto the counter. The kid at the counter gives you a look like he’s startled. He’s reading manga, though you can’t see the cover. 

“Could I get two packs of cigarettes? Seven Stars, Revo Lights Menthol.” You say, voice still thick with sleep. You give him a half-smile as he seems startled, watching as his hands fiddle with the keys of the cigarette case. 

He puts the two packs on the table, closing it back up. It squeaks as the glass is pulled back into place. His manga is left open on the table. You glance at it.

“Fire Punch?” 

He looks surprised as he scans your things, a flush on his face. 

“Oh, Uhm, yeah. You know it?” 

You nod your head. 

“Read it in high school. Agni is a cool protagonist.” 

All of a sudden he’s beaming at you. It catches you off-guard, but it makes sense. It’s an older manga and never got all that popular. He shakes his head in disbelief. 

“I’ve never met anyone who’s read it. I uhm.. would love to talk about it. You know.” 

He puts your stuff in a plastic bag, with the tips of his ears going pink. Your eyes widen, and you give him a little grin. While you look like this, huh? You’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel nice. 

“You know I’m older than you, yeah?” 

He looks startled that you read through his intentions. He’s good-looking. Tall, with dark hair and a mole under his eye. 

“I know I look like a kid, but I’m 22.” 

“So, only a few years.  Not bad for looking the way I do right now. You got a thing for older girls?” You joke. 

“That’ll be 4,100 yen. And, not really. You just…seemed cool.”  He says, trailing off. You chuckle at him, looking at his nametag before offering him a look.

“I’m not, I can guarantee you. Getting hit on made me feel a little better though. Thanks for that. Do you want my number?” You ask, with a half-smile. His eyes go wide, then he nods hard. You laugh at him. 

It’s not like you have anything left to lose. 

“Got a pen?” 

He looks frantically around for a pen and then hands it to you. You give him the money you owe him first. When he hands you a receipt and change, you flip the flimsy paper over and scribble your number down on it. You grab the bag off the counter, pocketing the cigarettes and holding the rest.

Passing your number down, you pat it twice. 

“I can’t guarantee I’ll go out with you any time soon. But you made me feel better, so I’ll give you this. We can talk manga some time. and maybe catch a drink. You’ve got a good face, so don’t waste it on people like me.”

He looks at you startled but takes the paper anyway in a daze. You smile. He seems nice at least. Harmless. 

“Y-Yeah. Right. that’d be nice. I uh, hope your night gets better.” 

You can feel the melancholy all over your skin as you smile. 

“Thanks. Have a nice night.” 

You grab your things, turning to walk around. Almost unwilling. But if you stay any longer, you know you’re gonna end up letting yourself talk and you don’t wanna dump all that on a person you just met. Just before he goes, he calls for you. 

“Hey, uh - be careful. It’s kind of late. I’d walk you home if I wasn’t on the clock. There might be a hero around, so you know -” 

You turn your head, looking at him for a minute. Your chest aches at the thought of having people to call. 

“Thanks for looking out. I’ll be alright. Night,” 

You leave, with a hand in your pocket and another one curled around the plastic shopping bag. 

You should probably go back home. 

You keep walking, though. A bad choice, maybe. Instead of turning back onto that road, you walk down another one that you recognize, taking one left until you find a bench underneath a streetlight. 

It’s quiet. Empty. There aren’t any heroes patrolling but it’s a local road surrounded by houses and apartments. You don’t feel any danger as you sit down on the wood bench, brushing it once with your hands beforehand. 

It’s freezing. Your whole body is icy to the touch. A shiver tears through you as your skin comes in contact with the seat. It’s chillier than it was when you left. Your bag lets out a soft clunk as you set it down next to you.  You reach into your windbreaker for the pack of cigarettes and your lighter. 

Balancing the lighter between your thighs, you lean forward. With your elbows on your knees, you smack the pack of cigarettes against your palm. Your fingers tremble from the weather, the wind blowing in a hard gust. 

You don’t think about it. You use your keys to get rid of the plastic outside, and then open the pack up. The one in the middle of the top row, your hands shake when you take it.

You bring the end to your chapped lip, fishing for your lighter. It’s an expensive thing you got as a gift, engraved. It’s almost out of fuel so it feels light in the palm of your hands. Even so, you flick it open. You run your finger over the wheel, stopping when the flame flickers on. 

You bring it to the end of your cigarette, watching it burn. The orange-red glow soothes you. The fire keeps you warm. It burns, and you watch it burn - and with your lips closed around one end, you take a deep and long inhale. 

It’s been a long time. Longer than you thought. It feels raw.  Nicotine and menthol mix together making your lips tingle and your lungs sting. It tastes like tar and long nights — like a college party, like a balcony, like a place far from here. 

Like a time, far far away from this. You balance the stick between your fingers, pulling it away as you exhale the first drag. Blowing a cloud of grey smoke into the air, you lose yourself in it. You smoke and pass the time. 

You can’t feel anything but that. The adrenaline crawls up your spine and makes your fingers all jittery. You lean into it without even meaning to. Four years down the drain, you think. It would’ve been 5 in a few months

But you take another drag anyway. Your joints hurt. You smoke, and when the feeling is starting to make your stomach sour - you reach into the pack for a can of beer and drink that to soothe your nerves. 

Letting your head rest on the edge of the bench, you stretch yourself out. With a beer can on the ground, you ash your cigarette out. You stretch your arm over your face, the end still burning. 

For one minute, you really had forgotten. The interaction at the store helped. The cigarette helped. The sleep helped. The beer helped. 

But nothing was enough to make you forget it completely. 

You fear that things might always feel like this. That even time can’t stretch itself over a wound this big. Would there ever be enough to fill the sudden crater of a loss like this, to ever fix you? 

At some point, you’ll have to accept nothing can ever be the same.. 

For a long, long time - you cry by yourself. It’s not a desperate sob like it had been 2 weeks ago. It’s just an exhausted, soft little one. Somewhere, inside of yourself, you cry like a baby. Like a child aching to be held though part of you knows no one is there to listen. Self soothe, you say to yourself. Stop crying.

 It’s not like you don’t know how to be alone. What that was like. 

You just never thought you’d have to be again, and maybe you aren’t all the way. You’ve got a slew of concerned messages on your phone that you’ve been replying to automatically and you’ve been completely disconnected from everyone for a while now. 

Reaching out to them will help. In time, you know that. When you’re ready you will. You don’t have the luxury to let the pain linger for as long as you know it will, as it has to. Eventually, you’ll get back up. Even now, the days pass silently without you living them. 

You know everything there is to know. Of course, you do. You know what they’ll say. You know that they’ll feel sorry for you. You know Kirishima would’ve held you without ever hesitating. You know your mother would’ve welcomed you if you showed up without a word. Of course, you know. 

But knowing where a wound is, you’ve learned, doesn’t make it stop hurting it. Knowing the cause, the color, the shape, and the taste of your injury will never heal it. Your familiarity with your pain doesn’t do anything at all, to make it stop. 

You light another cigarette, sitting forward with your elbows on your knees. Wiping your eyes with the back of your hand, you swear. 

“Fuck.” 

The memories suffocate you. 

You met them both while you were in college. When you were a sophomore in college, they’d saved you from a villain attack. They weren’t dating then, but they made conversation with you after you’d gotten a pretty big injury. 

You didn’t care for Bakugou at first. He was loud, mean, and crass. Midoriya has always been the same - friendly, awkward, genuine. Their friendship didn’t really make sense to you, like they spoke in a language you couldn’t ever learn. Midoriya always placated him. They looked at each other with a history that you never imagined having with anyone. 

You never thought you would see them again, so you asked. Sitting in the back of an ambulance getting patched up - they told you the story of them. Like they’ve told it a hundred times before. Childhood friends, they told you. They wanted to become heroes, it was rocky then it wasn’t. Midoriya gushed about Bakugou’s ability the whole time, and Bakguou told him to fuck off but blushed the entire time. 

You kept running into them, afterward. You were all convinced it was fate. They’d saved you 3 times before Bakugou told you to stop being an idiot with nothing but good intentions and maybe that’s when you knew you were in it. 

It was a long time. Not an overnight spark or sense of magnetism, not destiny. Just luck. Just chance that deepened and grew roots over time. You don’t remember much of it in full, just bits and pieces. Like a drop of water building an ocean - you can’t count for each time. 

You can name the rainstorms though, the floods, the days where it was clear they started to matter to you.  

And they mattered to you a lot where it counted. You went to college in a city far from your hometown, and you didn’t make many friends so you could keep up with your scholarship. College was mostly very stressful. You were just trying to keep yourself but you met them. And you think afterwards you started living.

You knew about them from the beginning. How they looked at each other, not realizing how obvious they made it that they loved each other. Perhaps hiding it after everything felt unnatural. 

You were content they wanted to be your friend. It was that simple. When they invited you out with them on their day off, you were confused but you always went. You were happy that they wanted you around. 

They never stopped showing up for you. They went to your stupid club events and made a scene. Bought you gifts for the years you were sure you’d spend your birthday alone. Texted you on their patrols, first individually then together. 

You learned to make your own friends too, but so much of your life is steeped in them. You thought, at first, that Midoirya took pity on you. You’ve always looked lonely. He was always the type to go out of his way for strangers. Bakugou just came along for the ride.

You realized later he never did anything he didn’t want to do. Even his admission meant that you were supposed to be there. 

Time passed. And the two of them, slowly, brought you into their lives. You met their friends and attended their big awards and major achievements while they did yours. On weekend horror movie showings they dragged you along, and during Hero Expo season you always got V.I.P passes. You never told them you only ever went to see them.

They were busy people. It took you a long time to let yourself be a part of that at all. You would always be on the outside, you knew - but they were good to you. You got on with them both so easily, more than anyone else you’d ever met and it— 

It felt special to you at least. 

You think somewhere down the line, you were content to be an outsider. Everything about them had become so comfortable, that you would’ve been content staying in that same place forever. As an outsider, a watcher, a friend. Just a friend. 

They started dating the year you were set to graduate college, and it really wasn’t all that different. Sometimes you caught them kissing, or hugging, or with a hickey on someone's neck but they treated you the same. Kept you at the same distance which wasn’t all that far.

It was in that same year, you realized you’d fallen in love with them both horribly.

Surprisingly, knowing that wasn’t all that bad. You knew it kind of instinctively when you realized it for the first time. It was shocking at first, but you were still content. You could swallow the ache in your chest seeing them happy. You were always an outsider to that, anyway. From the moment you met, there was history between them that would always surpass you and you knew that. Better than anyone. There was never a place for you to be, but you liked the one you had. You cherished that friendship so much you put it above your own feelings, for a long time. You had never met people who put you first so eagerly. Who went out of their way for you so often.

You like to believe they loved you like a friend. It helps to think that.

Four years. You’d loved them both, and so much - for four long years. You were just content to see them love each other because you could always tell they did. You wanted them to be happy.

Looking back they never put real distance between you both. You should’ve done that sooner. 

More than anything. More than yourself. From the start, maybe you should’ve guarded your heart more. You were always weak to them. They were the only people to welcome you so much to anything, but maybe you should’ve—

When they broke up, you didn’t know what to do. 

They’d always been.. together. For as long as you can remember. 

It was Midoriya who showed up at your door. You should’ve sent him home. It’s your own fault, for cramming yourself into a space never meant for you. 

He cried in your arms for two days and two nights. You felt sorry for him and texted Bakugou who told you to go fuck yourself. Whatever happened, neither of them would say or tell. It was serious. In the four years they’d been together, they fought but you never saw them like this. 

Even though you dated for 6 months, your time with Midoriya all feels very blurry. 

You blame yourself. No matter what anyone tells you, deep down, it would always be your fault. After those two days, he just needed someone to lean on.

It didn’t happen right away. Midoriya isn’t capable of that. It was after a few months of him visiting, of him dropping by, of him touching you. He leaned on you, even now - you don’t really know why.

You don’t really understand it but you think he must’ve mistaken the comfort you gave him for love. He’s only ever loved Bakugou so it’s possible he never really understood. You kissed, hugged, touched here and again but never had sex.

In hindsight, you’re glad about that. 

Months passed like that, in each other’s company. Midoriya came back after work and slept in your bed every night. You woke up together. But you knew, that whole time, there was an inevitable end. 

You always knew. When he hesitated when he looked at you. But sometimes, you got to see the melancholy go away. You watched movies and laughed, and made dinner together. There were enough happy memories to let you forget everything else. 

It’s funny. Loving someone so wholly you wouldn’t ask them to love you back. No one would believe you if you told them, but even knowing you were just a stand-in - you were content to experience affection for a while. Like you mattered. You liked being able to make him happy. 

You wanted Bakugou to be happy too, but every text you sent him got left on read. You called but never got a reply. 

You figured he might’ve resented you. You wouldn’t blame him. Truthfully, you question what you ever had. Maybe you deluded yourself into thinking tolerance was longing. You tried that whole time to get them together, but they did it on their own. 

He broke up with you after your new promotion. You never got a chance to tell him. The bottle of wine was still in your apartment. 

Just like before, he cried for a long time. Said sorry more times than you knew what to do. He called himself selfish, apologized, said he still wanted to be friends, that Kacchan missed you too. 

Over and over, he apologized to you.

You had always been an outsider. Even in your last minutes together, you comforted him when he cried. You didn’t know how to do anything else. You wish you felt contempt. 

You’re mostly confused. None of it made any sense. But why would it? You’re just a stranger caught in a storm, too big for your boots. 

It was when he said that one thing it broke you. 

“I couldn’t stop seeing him in your face. I’m so so sorry. I should’ve never—”

You think that was the first time it all collapsed. Nothing registered after. He didn’t see you, even once. Maybe neither of them did. You were just someone they had been nice to. You got involved in this all by yourself. 

You didn’t say anything to him. What would you have? All you said, very quietly at the end, was that you don’t want to see either of them again.

“Please respect that. And, I really do hope the both of you are happy.” 

You cried for 3 days. You took your first days off from work, and your manager didn’t question your paid time off. It’s been 3 weeks, and you haven’t spoken to anyone.

And now you’re here, alone - halfway through a packet of cigarettes and hoping your next breath will carry you out of here. It’s freezing cold, and you're numb all over. You blame yourself, and it hurts so much it makes you sick. You want everything to disappear. You want to scream, cry, curl in on yourself. 

But there’s nothing left for you to do or say. It’s all over, anyway. And it’s your fault for being greedy. For hoping that in the end, he would’ve at least seen you for what you were.

You’ve finished another cigarette. Your fourth one, which means you’ve only been sitting for 20 minutes. It feels like a century.

You wipe your eyes of stray tears, laughing to yourself.

“God, what the hell's wrong with me?”

Your throat is hoarse so you drink some more beer. You cool it on the cigarettes because you don't want to finish the pack before tomorrow. 

You don’t even get to check your voice before a terribly familiar voice catches your attention. 

You think for a second you're hallucinating.

“Oh! Hello. I’m Pro-Hero Deku, I’m doing some nightly patrols in this area. Do you need someone to escort you—“

Whatever higher power there is must be pretty sadistic. You hold your breath. 

He stops in front of you. You freeze up completely. It doesn’t even feel real when you look at him. You blink a few times trying to make sure you’re seeing clearly. 

“Y/N? What are you doing out here?”

His voice is so soft. The same as you remember. You swallow your discomfort, frazzled. Don’t be greedy.

You pick your beer can up, drinking the last of it before trashing it. 

“I didn’t know you patrolled here.”

You don’t have to see him to hear the frown in his voice. 

“…I usually don't. I’m covering for Mindjack, but that’s.. why are you out here?” He says, voice filled with concern. You don’t know what to say, so you opt to say as little as possible. 

“I live close by.”

He knows that. His frown deepens. 

“It’s nearly midnight.”

“I just wanted to get some air. I’m going home now, anyway—”

“Wait a minute, please.” 

You screw your eyes shut, back turned away from him. Every inch of your skin is burning. Your heart is sinking like it’s made of glass.

You sigh, voice trembling. 

“What do you want?” 

“Would you please turn around so we can at least talk face to face?” 

You don’t mean to say it. You don't mean to sound so bitter and broken and utterly defeated. The words slip out of you like a tire losing air. 

“Are you sure you know what it looks like when you’re not looking for someone else?”

He stiffens behind you. 

“Please,” is all he says. Like it's all he needs to say. All he can really offer.

You only turn around so he can bear witness to your suffering. Not that you want him to feel guilty but maybe it’ll make him leave you alone. Your eyes are red and swollen when you turn to face him, hands in your pockets. You don’t look at him. You’re afraid to. 

“…Have you been smoking?”

“Yeah.” 

“But you were clean for—”

“It’s none of your business what I was or wasn’t, Midoriya.” 

Midoriya. Not Izuku. Your stomach twists.

“Please don’t be like this.” He says, sounding desperate. 

You smile. It's sorrowful. Everything is tangled and messy and confusing. Like everything was a lie, and you were the last person to know. You don’t get it anymore. Your voice comes out, worn and gentle. 

“I always knew it would end. I was never under the illusion that you really loved me. That either of you did,” You start, voice breaking. It’s cathartic. 

And if this is really the last time, you should say what you wanted. 

“Of course we—why wouldn’t we—“

“I always knew you didn’t really feel that way.  It was just… nice to feel like I was important. No one in my life ever went out of their way for me like the two of you did,”

His voice breaks. 

“Y/N, please”

“I was always afraid to call you my best friends. It’s funny but it never felt right. Kirishima and Todoroki - they were your best friends. What was I, then? I never knew.  You were always each other’s. And I was there, and we were so close. But I never really fit. It never really made any sense,” 

He looks like he’s crying. You wish you could comfort him and you hate yourself for wanting to. 

“I mostly feel pathetic. I think that’s all. I have nothing to show for everything I went through,” You laugh a little under your breath, wiping your tears “It’s my fault. If I wasn’t so eager to feel loved. To love you in what capacity I could. Maybe things would be different,”

You reflect on your life with them. All that life you lived with people who you probably won’t ever see again, they’re easy enough to avoid. 

“It might be better if we pretend that we never knew each other. That way, you have nothing to feel guilty for. Kats—Bakugou won’t have to acknowledge me. And I can forget it all together,” 

“I don’t want to lose y-you, and Kacchan he—” 

You shake your head with a smile. Now that it’s all out, it feels clear. Of course, they loved you. 

Just not enough.

 Really, that’s all it's ever been. 

“Can I tell you a secret?” 

You think this time, you’ll really be able to move on. He doesn’t reply, but you can hear him hiccup. 

“I loved you both for four long years. That whole time. I was so happy we got to all be together, it didn’t even hurt. I don’t regret a lot of it. Maybe just those six months, and maybe not being able to see Bakugou. I miss him. I miss you too,” 

You breathe. It finally feels alright to do it. 

“But, I don’t want to see either of you ever again. If you’re in an emergency you can come to find me. I think it’s about time to move on,” 

You can hear him calling out for you when you turn around. Asking to walk you home, but you know he won’t follow you. You just keep walking and don’t look back. You turn the corner and head down the empty street. Back home by yourself. 

On the way, you smoke another cigarette. You keep the pack in your pocket. 

You let go. 

It’s just about that time, anyway. 

__ 

Weeks pass by like their nothing.

Your confrontation with Midoriya knocked some of the sense back into you. You came home, cried for 15 minutes, and then took a long shower under hot water. Afterward, you put on some nice lotion, replied to emails, and picked out an outfit for going to work tomorrow. 

Slowly but surely, you tried to get your life back in order to some degree. You threw yourself at your job since that made the most sense to you, working over time. Being alone with your thoughts for too long has proved to lead to drinking or smoking in excess, so you hang out with a crowd where you can.  

You met with your friends, all of which have supported you completely but only yelled at you for isolating yourself, to begin with. You visited your parents where your dad threatened to knock Midoriya’s lights out, claiming he was still very strong. The sentiment made you feel warm. 

You climbed yourself back into something of stability. It’s not like you’re over it. You feel considerably empty and fall into random fits of crying more often than you like  and you still smoke whenever you feel the stress of a long day overtake you. But it’s notably better. You’re hanging on and you hadn’t really been before. 

Some days are worse than others. Sometimes you pass a street vendor you used to frequent and have to sob over your steering wheel before going home. You see them in the news so often it’s starting to be funny in a dramatic irony sort of way - like the universe wants you to remember they exist. 

You’ve been careful to avoid them, though, it’s not as easy to avoid their friends. Kirishima got choked up when you ran into each other, making you promise that you’d keep in contact. In the last few weeks, you’ve seen Jirou, Todoroki, and Shinso all of which seemed happy to see you doing okay. 

It was nice. Knowing that they were your friend too, and not just someone who saw them by extension. No one really asked any invasive questions so you figured word got around. 

It’s been alright. You’ve been okay at best. It’s mostly been lonely.  You’re just trying to live with it, and you’re thinking about seeing a therapist just to get yourself sorted. 

Today is a Wednesday. You switched out one of your days off to accompany Ganache to the vet for a routine check-up. It was early in the day, so you had the rest of it to yourself.

Lately, you’ve been texting the guy from the convenience store. His name is Akio, and he’s an exchange student. You mostly text back and forth about manga, and he does a thing where he sends you selfies where he ends up being. He’s cute and a good enough distraction from your misery, plus he’s actually pretty funny when he calls or texts.

You lean back into your couch, picking your feet up to get comfortable. You’re freshly showered and hairless after the impulse choice to shave. The TV is playing some daytime soap that you’re not normally home to see, and there’s a cold beer on a coaster waiting to be opened. 

You swipe open your phone after receiving a text. It’s him, studying for an exam. That makes you laugh. 

(from akio, 2:45pm): long day OTL 

(sent 2:46): it’s my day off. do your best and maybe we can go drink. 

(from akio, 2:46): wait really? 

You laugh. 

(sent 2:47) only if you do your work ❤️

(from akio, 2:48): ON IT. where do you wanna get drinks? 

You conjure up a location, close-by where you leave - sending him to it. You watch him type back with a laugh. 

(from akio, sent 2:48): im suddenly very busy and im gonna finish studying. see you at 6?

(sent: 2:9): see you at 6 

He sends you a slew of very excited emojis and you bite your lip. Admittedly, you feel a little guilty. Though you’re careful to make your intentions clear, a guy so eager to even be in your presence is a nice change. A little harmless flirting has been good for your self-esteem and he’s a great guy. Him being younger than you isn’t as deterrent when you check his Instagram  and find out he’s very jacked. 

You feel a little embarrassed by the whole thing and all the time. But it’s nice to be wanted and send risque selfies to get a hesitant reply. It might be good to sleep with him, get your mind off of it. 

You only ever dated on guy in college and hooked up with a couple of people that you can count on your hand. Your relationship was nice but not memorable, and you broke up over a disagreement about finances in your junior year. After that, you went on sparse dates to keep up appearances. 

But it felt wrong to even try when your heart was in other place. So now, you’re just being careful and having fun. And it is fun.

Maybe you can get laid. He seems like he’d have good stamina. 

You cover your own face in embarrassment at the train of thought, giggling.

“Fuck what am I even thinking about?” 

You shake your head like you’re trying to shoo the thoughts away. You reach over for the beer on the table, shivering as the cold can comes in contact with your skin. Undoing the tab, you take a long sip - warmed by the taste. You don’t even know what flavor this is supposed to be since it was a gift but it’s expensive and malty. 

You drink and watch the T.V. A girl caught in a love triangle with two male leads. Both of the male leads are rich and powerful, and the girl comes from a small town. You snort. 

“Get out of there while you can, little lady. Save yourself.” 

You don’t know how long you sit there and melt into your couch, watching the TV and scrolling on your phone. Doing something productive feels out of reach for now and you’re comfortable passing the day like this. You haven’t really had a normal day of relaxation that doesn’t devolve rapidly into feeling sorry for yourself, so even being able to sit around be lazy without any other pretense feels luxurious. 

You think you spend 2 hours like that before your body signals you that it needs fed. Ganache comes up to sit on your lap, accompanying you while you order something to eat. Your finger reacches out for her little head, scratching just under her chin. 

“You’re getting hungry too, huh?” 

She lets out a soft purr before plopping her head against your bare thigh. You smile, perusing what feels like hundreds of options. It always feels like picking a place is the hardest part. 

Trying not to be paralyzed by choice, you jump out of your skin when you hear the doorbell ring. Your cat hops off of your lap at the noise. With furrowed brows, you try to think about who would be ringing your door without dropping by first. 

You ordered a new air purifier for your room last week. Maybe it came early? You would’ve got a notification from them, wouldn’t you? You shake your head. Either way, you’d prefer to have it instead of having to pick it up from the post office. 

On pure chance that it is that, you stand up and dust yourself off. Pulling your shorts down slightly, you grab a zip-up hoodie from the side of your couch making sure nothing is falling out. You pad softly to the door, unlocking it. 

“Hello?” 

As soon as you open the door, you see the last person you were expecting. Everything just sort of.. stops in it’s place. For a minute, you don’t breathe. You don’t think. You just… tense. And stare, your hands on door knob. Debating whether or not you should even open it all the way, or say anything. 

You would close it if you didn’t see his face. You’ve never seen him look so tired, and seeing that makes your heart drop into your gut. 

“...Bakugou?” 

He looks up and then looks at you. His shoulders sag in what seems like relief but you can’t be certain. 

“What are you…?” 

He opens his mouth to say something, and then closes it again like he’s come up short on the right words. He’s not in his costume for work, and his hands are in his pockets. He’s bigger than you by a mile, but he looks.. terribly small. Maybe frail. Not like himself. 

“Hey.” He says, short  and quiet. His hand reaches up around his neck “Can we talk?”

Your gut reaction is to turn him down. You’ve made all this progress, and you think that letting him in through the door would be ruining it. But he looks so depserate, and that looks so unusual. He doesn’t look angry, and that scares you. 

You don’t mean to let him, but you owe him that much you think. Answers for those 6 months. He was blameless for everything that had happened between the two of you, anyways. You open the door, stepping to one side. 

He looks at you, a pained expression passing over him before stepping in. Your breath catches, quietly watching as he takes off his combat boots. Ganache meanders over to him. She was always fond of Bakugou. You watch the two of them interact and you feel your heart rip in half. 

Your entanglements show in ways you don’t expect. It’s too much.

He wears the house slippers left out for him, almost out of habit. And then he looks at you for a minte. You snap out of your trance, scratching your cheek. 

“Oh, uhm. You can… sit. Did you want a drink maybe? A beer?” 

He shakes his head. 

“You don’t have to be so damn courteous to me,” He says. Your expressions softens, heart squeezed in your ribs. The disparity settles in the bottom of your lungs, crawling up your throat like a bile. It’s still so early in the day. You can see his expression so clearly. So obviously melancholy. 

You choke around the words. 

“I don’t know why I wouldn’t be,” You say. You offer him a half-smile. It’s true. You never really had any reason to be angry with him. If he hated or resented you, it wasn’t like you didn’t deserve it. 

He closes his eyes than looks away, silently walking off to your living room. You follow him, sitting diagonal to him. You stare at your feet, pulling the sleeves of your hoodie over your hands. Fidgeting. 

You don’t know how long you sit there. The TV is muted, so you direct your eyes to the soaps - trying to avoid the obvious. 

Bakugou breaks the silence first. 

“You’re smokin’ again.”

His voice of devoid of anything you can read. You look at the ash-tray on the table, before you nod. 

“Yeah.” You reply simply. He leans forward on his elbows. 

“...You haven’t smoked since college grad.” He says. You smile. 

“Yeah.” 

You’ve been alone with Bakugou before. Engaged in quiet, comfortable silences. Midoriya normally did the talking for you, so the two of you were accustomed to letting him ramble. Alone though, you normally just enjoyed each others company or talked in depth about something you found important. 

When he wasn’t blowing a fuse, you found Bakugou intelligent and practical. You talked about a lot of things, like money and the failings of the Hero Commission and the news. Stuff people found boring, he would normally have something to say. He was always opinionated on everything. Movie, music, books. 

You haven’t seen him in over half a year. Not in person, anyway. It’s hard to avoid the number one and two hero in media as it would be. 

“I don’t wanna kick you out or anything. Uh, we have a lot to talk about I guess. I just—I’m going out for drinks at 6 so—” 

He cuts in abruptly. 

“With who?” 

You pull back. 

“...A guy I met the other day.”

His jaw clenches. Irritation passes over his face as he scrubs a palm over it. He looks upset but you can’t figure out why. 

“Have I met him?”

You shake your head. 

“Probably not. He’s in college. Met him while I was buying cigarettes, actually.” You muse, feeling fond. “He’s a good kid.” 

“Are you—Are you interested him?” 

Your eyes widen, staring at him. His voice is holding something in it, half-way between anger and sadness. You don’t really understand him or why he seems like that. Does he think you’re moving on too fast from Izuku?

But that doesn’t feel right to you either. Maybe seeing you happy is upsetting. You don’t know. 

“We’re not dating, if that’s what you’re asking. We just.. talk. Flirt, I guess.” You say, shaking your head. You turn your attention back on him “Don’t know why that’s important. What’d you wanna talk about?” 

His eyes widen, and then his face fall. You’re more confused than before. 

“Don’t know why that’s important huh?”

You watch him. His face after you’ve said that. He looks upset. Part of you thinks you’re imagining it. But you’ve never seen him look like this. He buries his face in his hands, swearing. 

“Fuck this.. fuck this is—”

You decide to interject. 

“I don’t know why you’re here but since you are I wanted to say… I wanted to say sorry. I figure that’s why you’re here. That it’s related to that somehow, but before anything I wanted to say I’m sorry.” 

It’s been on the tip of your tongue. Weighted, heavy on the inside and impatiently trying to pry itself from between your teeth. Your words come out in a jumbled mess. Part of you can’t help but expect rejection. You sit here, and stare at him and you think to yourself that you’re sorry. 

You understand Midoriya at times like this. But you won’t say it more than once, fearful it’ll be a burden to you both. You just spit it out. Like a loose tooth. The blood comes after, filling your tongue with bitter taste of iron.  

Lately, you’ve lost the words for heartache. Ache as in bruise, as in hurt that’s lingered for a long time. Your heart aches terribly, and every passing day feels like being trampled on. You look at Bakugou when you say sorry, and your heart expands into the stiffness of your ribs. And it hurts all over, like one raw injury. Lately the taste of your suffering is a cigarette and beer. You wonder what that says about you.

You feel something thick in your throat, looking away. 

“Why the fuck are you saying sorry?” He asks, voice shaking with anger. You wince. 

“For everything.” You say, griefstricken with every word. You feel your vision get blurry, looking away as you try to take the tremble out of your voice “Sorry for everything, Katsuki.”

You try your best not to cry but you can feel the gaping hole reopen in your chest. You wish this was just a reunion. The longing is so sharp and so endless. It wasn’t like Midoriya. You didn’t have memories to help you cope. You never got a chance to tell him thank you or i love you. 

He had always made it clear he didn’t want you around, but you still.. still found yourself clinging to his tolerance. To the fact he was always the first one to reach for you. That he listened to you intently and pushed you to do what you wanted. 

Midoriya was soft. Comfortable. Bakugou was tough. He held you steady through all your stress. Cleaned your apartment when life was too much to bear and picked you up at your lowest without a word of judgement. 

And in the end you touched the one thing that was never yours. You thought it would be okay because you hadn’t seen him for 7 long months in person. It would’ve beem if you hadn’t seen him again. 

But he’s here just the same. And you love him. You love him so much, so deeply, and all at once you feel consumed by the reminder. It burns inside of you hotly. The tears flow naturally. 

Don’t be greedy, you tell yourself. This is the universes way of reminding you of what you did. There was never any place for you.

“Hey, fuck. Sweetheart, stop cryin’. Please just fucking look at me, can’t stand seeing you cry,” 

You can’t stop yourself from wailing. It’s ugly, and loud, and horrible. No matter how much you try to clamp it down, it spills from between your fingers and stains everything. Your whole body shakes with it. Hiccuping, you swallow a noise of distress. 

“I didn’t m-mean for it to end like this. I didn’t want—I didn’t want to hurt you, either of you I just. I got selfish a-and I—fuck, I got greedy. I never meant to, I didn’t want this.”

Before you understand what’s happening, you feel a body around you. 

Strong arms. Bakugou’s arms. He’s standing up to hug you, and you can feel him trembling when he pulls you to him. Your heart squeezes, but you don’t let yourself sink. His hands cup the back of your head, and you sob softly into the fabric of his shirt. 

“Fuck. I’m such an idiot. Please stop crying, sweetheart. Please.” 

“I’m sorry, ‘m sorry” 

For a while, you can’t do anything but weep. Bakugou doesn’t let go of you. He’s never been good at comforting people, but his grip on you is tight. You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting like that, sobbing into his arms with your fingers in his shirt. 

Your head feels messy, throbbing when you finally manage to stop. You pull away, your eyes swollen. You lick your lips, chapped before pulling back. 

“Thanks for comforting me.” You say, pulling away. You try to anyway.

Bakugou cups your face in his hands. It catches you off guard, the feeling of his calloused palms. He lifts your face, examining you. Your mouth parts in confusion, as you feel his thumb running under your eyes. 

“All fucking wrong. We did this shit all so fucking wrong.” 

“B-Bakugou?” 

He doesn’t let go of you. Just looks for a long time. 

“Bakugou?” 

“Yeah, sweetheart?” 

“Why’re you..?” 

“I missed you.” He says in a murmur, soft and uneasy and so regretful it stuns you “I’m so fucking sorry. We whoulda never—I’m gonna kick that shitnerds ass, swear.” 

“You…what?”

He lets go of you, then runs a hand through his hair. 

“You should.. text your friend or whatever. We should talk.” 

Bakugou looks at you apologetically, handing your phone. You watch him disappear into your kitchen, pouring you a glass of water and handing you some tissues. You don’t know what to say, completely dazed. You send Akio a text, making an excuse about a work emergency and saying you’ll drink with him this Saturday. 

Bakugou hands you the glass, leaving your tissues on the coffee table before sitting right where he was. 

For the first time, you’re completely at a loss.

“I don’t understand.” Are the first words out of your mouth. Bakugou gives you a laugh. 

“With the way shits been going, don’t know why you would.” 

“D-Did something happen between you and Midoriya?”

He frowns. 

“Fuck, no. Promise no stupid shit this time. Izuku just told me I should come talk to you.”

“…He did?”

He smiles at you. 

“Yeah, he did. Not like I’m any better at this shit than he is, but he said you weren’t gonna listen to him,” He pauses, turning away from him “Said you never wanted to see him again.”

You look at your lap, listening to the sound of passing cars.

“I thought it’d be for the best. It’s uhm.. It’s hard for me to see either of you. You know,” 

There’s a tense look on Bakugou’s face when he stares at you. You’ve never seen it before.

“…Did you mean what you said to Deku?”

Your throat constricts. 

“A-about?”

“About your feelings. For the both of us, you said—“

You feel your heart race, uncomfortable.

“…Does it matter?”

“Matters a hell of a lot.”

You repeat it to yourself like a mantra. Over and over, the word sticks to you. Don’t get greedy. You want to say nothing. To close your eyes and deny it. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I did.”

You feel your sense of stability crumble the instant the words leave your mouth. Like a sandcastle collapsed under the tide, you melt into unease. 

Your eyes sting with fresh tears that you hurry to wipe away. You don’t even know what they’re for. 

“Hey. Stop, look—it’s not what you think, alright? The feeling is mutual, but you've gotta listen to me.” 

Your eyes widen. Looking up again, you frantically look at his face then shake your head. Did you mishear?

“It’s what?”

“It’s mutual. We both… it’s a lot to explain alright? But from the beginning, it’s been mutual and it wasn’t some freak accident you ended up in our lives. I don’t want you thinkin’ that” 

You can’t believe what you’re hearing. You shake your head. 

“I don’t…I don’t get it. From the beginning? You say you both have feelings for me, but I haven’t seen you in 7 months. A-and I-Izuku said—” 

Bakugou grits his teeth suddenly. He looks sharp, vicious. 

“Ignore what that half-brained idiot said, he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about.” 

You sit back, unsure of how to proceed. You want to be shocked, or even angry but all you feel is confusion. You fiddle with your hands, and hear Bakugou sigh over his. His voice sounds exhausted. 

“All those months ago, when Izuku and I got into a fight… we were fighting over you.” 

The world comes to a halt. You choke on a gasp of air. Bakugou doesn’t pick his head up to look at you. The sun shadows the shame on his shoulders before you get a minute to speak. His face softens, then regret sifts through. 

He looks tired. Terribly tired. 

“It was because of me. Izuku… he realized how he felt early on. How we both did. He brought it up to me and I just…froze. I didn’t know what to do.” 

You hold your breath as you watch his face. 

“You…?” 

“We fought about it. I blew up on him, and he wouldn’t back down on the whole thing. I was scared outta my mind. Me.. and Izuku - it took us a long time to get where we were.” 

You laugh a little at that, scratching your hand. 

“Yeah I know.” 

He lets out a puff of air. 

“I bet you do. It freaked me out. It wasn’t like… I didn’t realize. We fought and I told him to go fuck off and be with you then. I regretted as soon as I did, but he walked off. Left me alone for a while.” 

You frown. 

“I’m sorry. You didn’t… I didn’t want that for you. I was a-always worried about you.” 

He gives you a light-hearted scoff. 

“I know. I got every call and text, sweetheart. Truth to be told, I would’ve lost my fucking mind if you hadn’t. That whole time.., you were looking out us both. I was still pissed, so I threw myself at my job. Saw Deku and got into some altercations.” 

This surprises you. It makes sense. It’s hard to avoid each other, you’re sure. You wonder why Deku never told you, but all those days he came home extra upset - maybe it was that. 

“I had no idea.” 

“With the way you texted me updates, I figured he didn’t tell you. He’s a shit-head like that. Keeps everything in and then lets it all out. He forgets that he’s a human being sometimes.” 

“It makes sense but…what happened? How’d you get here?” 

“We had a big fight and made up, eventually. I hadn’t really thought about anything. I was working over-time to avoid it, but I was so angry all the time I didn’t feel like myself. Shitty Hair and them kept me calm.” 

“Kirishima cried when he saw me,” You say in a daze. Bakugou laughs. 

“He was pissed at me when I told him everything.” 

“Kirishima was?” 

“You think he’s nice like the rest of ‘em but he’s scary as fuck when he’s mad. He didn’t let me hear the end of it for fucking up. And I’m…sorry for that. For fucking this up.” 

You shake your head at him. 

“I don’t blame you. I still don’t really understand it, but I should’ve pushed him away. My feelings were getting in the way, and I didn’t think about how I was—” 

“Hey. Stop that. Get this through your head, you didn’t do shit. Izuku leaned on you because he fucking cares about you.” 

“But he said—” 

“We’re not complete without each other.” 

Everything stops in an abrupt manner. His words are muddled, like they’ve been shaken around in his heart for much longer than you thought. 

“Izuku doesn’t know his own feelings. He thought that I was right. He thought he just misunderstood himself and he’s always been like that. He’s not good at knowing his own shit.” 

And then, you think you see him cry. You don’t remember the last time you’ve ever seen Bakugou Katsuki cry but his eyes look red. 

“We tried. To go back to how things were, we tried so fuckin’ hard sweetheart. You never wanted to see us again and I was too damn stubborn to admit to myself not getting your texts was breaking me. We tried.” 

You swallow the feeling in your throat. You’re so disoriented. 

“And..?” 

“It didn’t work. We couldn’t stop arguing and it wasn’t like before. We were both on edge all the time and we both knew why. Izuku realized his feelings after you left. And I couldn’t deny that the idea of never seeing you again fucking broke me.” 

You don’t think you could cry anymore if you tried, but you manage. 

“I just… it doesn’t feel real. You two have so much history. Without me. A whole life together and there’s no space for me to be involved. You love each other so much, how could you love me too? How could it ever compare?” 

“How could we not fucking love you, sweetheart? All those years together. You kept us grounded for how long? I never knew what it meant.. whatever bullshit Deku talked about saving people. But then we met you and I would’ve done anything to keep you safe.” 

“Katsuki,” 

You don’t even know what to do anymore. What to think or believe.

“Deku loves you to death. I can see it on his face. He loves seeing you with your dumbass cat. He loves listening to you recite lines from movies.”

“And you?” 

“And I’m here trying to convince you I’m still worth your time. I can’t do all that sappy shit. This is all I got.”

“You’re doing fine.” You say with a smile. He smiles back. 

“I feel like I’m gonna puke right now.” He admits. 

“I’m just scared. None of this feels real to me.” 

“When that shitnerd and I got together, I couldn’t get my head around it for 3 days. I was terrified of what that meant for me. Being vulnerable with people is terrifying and I still can’t stand it.” 

“Yeah.” 

“But if I never confronted my fears, I would’ve been alone and blind for the rest of my life. Shit gets bad. You fuck up and fight and things are hard - but it’s way fucking better to fight with people you love than it is to by yourself with your misery. Life got easier when I let myself feel my feelings and whatnot.” 

“You sound really wise.” 

He laughs under his breath. 

“Don’t be a dick.” 

“I’m being serious. You sound so mature and stuff.” 

“And stuff? You been hanging around that college brat way too much.” He says through gritted teeth. You laugh. 

“He’s nice, Katsuki.” 

“He can kiss my fucking ass, corrupting you with his bullshit—” 

“He is not doing that!” 

“You think I don’t see your legs shaven? You’re a shit liar.” 

“It was coincidence. I was gonna sleep with him though.” You say the last part a little quieter. He immediately gets mad again. 

“The hell you are.” 

You give him a smile, crinkling your nose. 

“Jeez, it’s not even your business, you know.” 

He groans. 

“My hearts too weak for that right now, yeah? Be fucking easy on me.” 

You look down at your lap, unsure of what else too. Your voice is hoarse so you reach for the glass on the table. 

“Sorry. Just… processing, I guess.” 

Neither of you talk for a long while. It’s just.. silent. It’s starting to get dark out, but not enough that it’s noticeable. The sunset is just teetering around the skyline. You take a deep long breath, tapping your foot. Picking the skin on your fingers. Fighting the urge to smoke an entire packet, you take a long breath. 

“Hey.” 

You lift your head to look at him. He looks nervous. 

“Is it okay if I… fuck, like would it be okay if I kissed you?” 

You nearly cough up a lung from shock. 

“Would that be okay? Wouldn’t Izuku be—” 

Bakugou gives you a little grin. 

“He got 6 months. He’ll get over it.” 

You squirm a little in your chair heart. Heart-racing. 

“...T-Then, it’d be okay. I guess.” 

“C’mere.” 

You feel shaky when you stand to your feet. Awkward. But as soon as you’re in reaching distance, you feel Bakugou’s hand touch yours. His hands are nice. Smooth and long and nimble but calloused on some parts. Irrevocably warm, when they wrap around your pointer. 

“If I do something you don’t like, headbutt me,” He offers. You frown at him, 

“I’ll tell you.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” 

Without word, you feel him touch you. One hand busies itself with your hands, palms running up the back side of your forearm, then over the top before opening your hands to him.  Pulling the sleeves of your hoodie with it and exposing your skin to cool air. He touches you quietly, thoughtfully passing down until he’s holding your hand. Not with your your fingers intertwined, but cupped against yours in a silent, gentle reprieve. 

The other hand rests on the back of your thigh before brushing behind your knee and staying there. He’s just holding you, and there’s nothing especially risky about it. But it leaves you a mess, enough that you can’t even look at him. 

He tugs you to him. Spreading his legs, shifting to help you into his lap. Like a lamb to shepherd, you follow. Too dazed to protest him, he looks up at you and you look down at him. He brings your hands to his chest, and you slink them around his neck. He leans you forward until you’re only a few inches apart, breath mingling. 

He smells like smoke. You take a deep breath, studying his face before realizing his doing the same to. His eyes are outlining your mouth. 

“You smell like cigarettes.” He tells you. 

“Sorry.”

He shakes his head. 

“You made me like the smell way back. Used to think it was awful.” 

“And now?” 

“Now it makes me lightheaded.” 

“Like you wanna kiss me?” You tease. He takes a deep breath. 

“So fucking bad.” 

“Kiss me, Katuski.” 

“Mm,” 

His mouth is soft. You think that first. Even as your bodies so desperately and almost wholly on instinct, your skin starting to buzzy faintly. It’s so utterly blissful all you can think to feel is that he’s soft. He tastes sweet. His hands are the back of your thighs squeezing tight and you want them forever. You like that he lets you lead a little, and you take pleasure in touching him. 

Squeezing the back of his neck, you thread your fingers gently through his hair. Soft and ticklish against your fingers - he lets out a moan when you squeeze at the root. You did again and he does it one more time. Something warm unfurls in your stomach, starting to unwind like loose thread. 

“You sound pretty like that.” You tell him once you pull away. He shivers. 

“You’re gonna put me in an early grave,” 

“So you’re just gonna let Izuku become number one?” 

He gives you the brightest smile you’ve seen all day. It looks so familiar on him, your chest feels like it’s being crushed. 

“Not a chance in fucking hell.” 

“That’s the spirit, Katsuki.” 

“Speaking of.. we should probably invite that lewd nerd over here.” He says, burying his face in your neck. You hug him close to your chest. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. He’s gonna cry the whole damn time. Been losing his shit all day.” 

“Poor Izuku.” 

“He’s gonna cry when you call him that too. Cried about being Midoriya for 2 whole days.” 

“He’s such a baby.” 

Bakugo smiles into your neck. 

“I’d cry too.” 

__ 

You wait for Izuku to come back to your apartment at your front door, with Bakugou clinging to your shoulders. 

Nothing much had happened since your kiss. You and Bakugou laid together and made-out to pass the time - watching TV and quietly catching up.  When Izuku sent you a text about being 5 minutes out, you decided to wait at the door to greet him. 

You feel like the whole day has been one long dream. Seeing Izuku, you think, will make it feel more real.

When you hear the nob of your front door turn, you look up at Bakugou with excitement. He looks down at you, pressing his lips to your temple, his voice a soft, excited murmur in your ear. 

“He’s gonna cry right away.” He says, hushed, tone light. Amused. You elbow him. 

“Don’t be mean, Katsuki.” 

Your breath hitches when you do see the door open. He looks a little disoriented when he passes the threshold into your apartment. His dark green curls are messy from the wind and he’s all out of breath like his heart is racing. 

You smile at him as soon as he lifts his head up to look you. His lower lip trembles with immediacy, hands flying up to his face to catch the tears already threatening to spill. You feel Bakugou squeeze a little tighter around your waist, smiling into your neck.

“Welcome home, Izuku.” 

“Oh god.”

You forget how big he is until he runs forward to tackle you both in his arms. You hear Bakugou fuss over you, something about you damn crybaby being mumbled. But more than that, you feel the familiar warmth of Deku. Izuku and Katsuki, all together. He smells like the sun and sweat, , it’s familiar and comfortable. Like home. You lean forward to wrap your arms around his midriff. You melt into the touch, as easy as it always been. 

“I’m sorry, oh my god, I’m so sorry, I love you.”

When he pulls away, he’s already blubbering. His skin is a blotchy, familiar red and his eyes are watery. He looks down at you like you aren’t real. He’s the tallest of the three of you, so you have to get on your tippy toes to kiss him. 

Familiar. Your hands touch base at his chest before running up, cradling his face in your hands. You swipe the tears from him, giving him a biggrin. 

“I missed you, Izuku.” 

“Oh god, oh god—Can I?—Wanna kiss you both so bad, missed you so much, I’m so happy.” 

“Slow down, you idiot. You’re gonna scare ‘em, jeez.” Katsuki says, but his face betrays him. You can see that he wants that too, when you look up. They both look at you expectantly, and you nod. 

Izuku kisses you first. It’s just like him, terribly overwhelmed. He tastes mildly like salt, maybe from all the tears. He grabs your face and presses your lips to you like the world will end if he doesn’t. He does it once, pulls away, and does it two more times just to be safe. You giggle when he pulls away, looking at you in your eyes. 

“We should t-talk properly, but I’m so so sorry, I just—” 

You look at him. The scars all over him. The splattered freckles along the bridge of his nose and his dark lashes. You shake your head. 

“Later,” — You offer, fingers slipping under his shirt — “Need you both.” You say, a little quieter. 

This makes his eyes go wide before he pulls back completely, covering his face with hands. You hear Katsuki laugh behind you. 

“Lewd fucking nerd.” He says, with a terrible amount of affection. Izuku’s voice goes raspy. 

“Shut up, Kacchan.” 

“Oh that’s right. The two of you never went all the way, right?” 

You flush this time.

Katsuki  nips at your neck with his teeth, soft and playful. 

“You’re gonna make him cum in his pants, sweetheart,” 

You feel something tickle in the back of your throat. 

“I thought you weren’t… uhm. You know. Into me.” You admit. Izuku’s eyes widen so far his brows touch his hairline. Katsuku shake with laughter behind you. 

“You got no idea how fucking gross he is. Haah, that’s funny. Not into you my ass.” 

“Kacchan!” 

Before you register it, Katsuki whispers in your ears. They’re making eye-contact with each other with you sandwiched in the middle. They’re both so much. Too much for any one person to handle, you don’t know how you’re going to do it. 

Katsuki’s voice is smug. 

“Reach your hand out. Go on,” 

You do as he says, convinced you should. You want to. It’s not like you’ve never touched him before but never fully. You never really did anything, you just… 

You touch it. Touch him. Your whole body goes hot as you feel something heavy in the palm of your hand. thick. It twitches against the material of his pants. Above you, Izuku shudders. His whole body shakes slightly. 

“I didn’t even…”

“You think I call him ‘lewd nerd’ for fun. He’s a pervert, sweets. It’s just how it is.”

Your heart races. Fuck, what are you getting yourself into right now? 

But it feels right. And with the both of them over you, the warmth of their bodies and strong forms - you can’t help but want to fall into it. You close your eyes, look up and glancing at both of them. 

“I wanna do it.” You whisper, low. You feel your skin prickle with heat. Izuku groans and Katsuki chuckles. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

__

From the moment you stumble in your bedroom, everything around sort of disappears. 

You’re quick to lock the door behind you, to ensure your cat doesn’t follow you but the moment you’re in - you’re practically surrounded. The energy alone is enough to melt your spine. Izuku carries you in his arms and Katsuki trails behind you, giving you a vicisious grin that makes you wetter than you know to handle. 

It’s all very messy and desperate, trying to situate yourself into the bed. They keep you in the middle the entire time. At times like these, you’re grateful for the investment you made in your firm mattress. The two of them alone take up so much of the once roomy king-sized you find it hard to breathe. 

You’re sitting on your legs with Katsuki mirroring you, behind you. Izuku hovers over you like a shadow. Your head feels jumbled with everything surrounding you. The first thing you feel is the shape of Katsuki’s mouth. His lips are tender and soft, pressing into your shoulder blade. You let out a fluttery little sigh, unsure of what to do. 

It’s disorienting as much as it’s hot. You’re stuck between a rock and a hard place, two people who are wholly enigmatic without each other. Together you’re like stars colliding. Or maybe, yu’re the world between them, keeping them at bay - squeezed by the matter of their existence. Katsuki’s hand travel under your t-shirt, his hands squeezing your waist. 

Izuku tilts your head up to kiss you first, then reach over your shoulder kissing Katsuki. You think, sometimes, you like seeing them kiss more than you like being kissed on your own.

“You’re so pretty… She’s so pretty, right Kacchan?” 

He does an affirmative hum behind you. Heat rips through you, as Bakugou’s hands reach up. He cups your tits, bare underneath the fabric of your shirt. His chest rumbles with a groan, thumb, and pointer tweaking your nipples till they're hard. You let out a soft mewl. 

“Fuck.. fuck look at that.” 

He’s not talking to you, but to Izuku who’s watching you both with a shadowy expression. His eyes suddenly look dark. Terribly and utterly focused on your tits, where your nipples peek through your cotton white t-shirt. You would’ve worn something cute if you had the time. Thank god you showered at all, though you don’t think either of them would care. 

Instead of answering, Izuku tugs at the bottom of your shirt. You feel Katsuki behind you, lifting the material up. They work together well. You raise your hands to let it to taken off, feeling shy you try to tuck your chin. Izuku’s quick to draw you back, using his hand to turn your head with a gentle force. He’s soft, but authoritative. It shakes you to your core. 

“Hey. None of that okay. Keey your eyes on us.” 

“What he said, sweetheart.” 

You gasp a little as your bare skin touches the cold air. Goosebumps raise in patches all over your body. 

At a loss for words, your eyes follow Izuku in his movements. How he scoots back on the bed, then dips his head down. His mouth is a surprise - he kisses down your sternum and with no warning at all - gropes your chest like it’s all he’s ever wanted to do. 

It’s different from before. The way he squeezes them in his palms, pushes them together, watches them move and spill between his finger. He’s taking his time to explore you with the single-minded focus he always gets. His tongue planes over the hardened buds, around the creased skin before sucking the whole thing into his mouth. 

You throw your head back, mouth open in a quiet gasp. Katsuki slowly slides your hands over your navel, across your stomach. Around your middle, his fingers fidget with the waist-band of your shorts, before dipping into the line. Your thighs squeeze instinctively, chewing the inside of your cheek. 

It’s too much. You whimper a little as Izuku pays attention to your tits, your body flaring upr. Izuku is shameless in wanting you. His eyes are so focused on your every move, and his hands feel so impossibly big. It feels like he could eat you, swallow you - the way he touches you so shamelessly. 

You’re so aroused.  Wet enough that it’s soaking your cotton panties all the way through. It’s humiliating when Katsuki touches just over the seam, how his finger soaks on the damp spot. 

“You’re making her so wet, nerd.” 

“Really, Kacchan?” 

“Fuck, yeah. She’s soaked. Feel good?” 

The last part is talking to you. Izuku rubs your nipples with his thumbs, hands cradling your sides when you nod,

“Feels good.” You say back, halfway panting. You open your eyes up to look over at Izuku, then look back to Katsuki “I want you guys to take it off. Too many clothes.” 

Katsuki laughs behind you, and you feel him pull away. Izuku places a kiss on your hairline. You scoot over, away from them, and watch them as you get undressed.

Your eyes land on Katsuki first. You’ve seen Izuku naked before, almost completely. You’d never seen Katsuki, so you watch. He catches you staring, giving you a little smirk before he turns over to you. 

“You’re a freak too. Gettin’  off on watching me strip.”

You lean back on your palms. 

“Should I tip you?” 

He laughs. 

“Fuck off.” 

He takes it off a little more deliberately. Your eyes follow the curves in his body. The two of them are so stupidly jacked. Katsuki is a little leaner in his make up. His strength is concentrated in his back muscles and his arms. You see it when he reaches over his head. He’s lithe, smooth everywhere else but his arms are pure and almost brutish. It’s so sexy on him. There’s only one big scar on his body that you already know the story of. 

You don’t even realize you’re staring at him until you hear his voice, smug as he calls you over. 

“You wanna touch it?” 

You nod, a little sheepish about being caught. Crawling over to him, you’re standing on your knee.. Izuku watches the two of you, out of the corner of his eyes. His lower lip is tugged, pressed under his teeth. 

You let your fingers do the guiding. You start at his waist. He looks at you, intent. He’s artwork, you fight the urge to treat him rough - your fingers tracing over his obliques. Gently grabbing him, you trace all the way up the natural lines of his body, Even without flexing, you can see his physique. Your palms plane over the muscle of his back and arms before curling around his shoulders. 

“You’re arms are so nice.” 

“Yeah?” 

“And you’re…” 

Words escape you when you look down. His chest.. fuck. Katsuki is pale everywhere. His nipples are pink against his skin, noticeably bright. The cold season makes him pale where as Izuku is always tan. His chest is so fucking big. It’s so distracting you lose whatever you want to say. Your hands drop then reach forward, and without so much as a choice - you squeeze the fat of his chest between your fingers just like Izuku had been before. 

Izuku comes up behind you. The two of them share a look you don’t have the mind to pay attention  to. 

“Kacchan has nice tits, doesn’t he?” 

“Go fuck yourself, Deku.”

Your mouth feels so dry. 

“Y-Yeah.” 

“They’re sensitive.” Izuku tells you, voice thick. Revenge, or something along those lines. It piques your interest. 

“Yeah?” 

“Flick them. He likes it.” 

When you look at Katsuki’s face it’s strained. A warm shade of pink dances over every inch of his exposed skin, and he’s holding his breath. Oh, you think. He wants this. 

You flick his nipples and watch as his whole body crumbles forward. He drops his head on his shoulders, as you tweak and play with them. His voice is raspy, teeth gritted. 

“Fuck, y-you’re evil. Fuck, there.”

“Pick your head up, Kat.” 

He does so. He looks.. soft. Pretty. His eyes are a little glassy. You lean forward, letting your mouth close around one of his tits. He cries out, wobbly. Izuku is quick to keep him steady, hands reaching around to his hips. 

“You learn fast.” 

You hum sucking on each of them. Katsuki is a mess over you. His body is so hot, and you can see his cock against his clothes. You stay like that, the three of you stood on your knees with just enough space to tease and touch. Your body relishes the contact, mind-swimming. You indulge your desires to explore, tentatively testing the boundaries. 

You pull away briefly saliva making his tits shiny. He looks at you, dazed. 

“Can I leave marks on either of you?” 

“Freak.” Katsuki says. You flush. 

“Should be fine. Kacchan is wearing his winter costume, anyway.” 

You nod your head, then let your tongue lave over Katsuki’s neck before biting and sucking. You leave it a little under the collar, low enough to be easily covered. He lets out a soft hiss. 

“You’re so touchy with me. Gonna leave Izuku out to dry?” 

You laugh, rubbing your cheek into his pec. Grabbing his ass, he gives you a little scowl but doesn’t tell you to stop. 

“I never got to touch you. I touched Izuku at least.” 

You feel Izuku’s chin on your shoulder. 

“Kacchan’s right though, I feel neglected.” 

Izuku’s arm closes around your waist. You turn your head slightly, enough to see him behind him. 

“You want a hickey too?” 

Izuku buries his face in your neck. 

“Mm, maybe,” 

“Are you both usually this needy?” You ask amused.

“You would be too if you were us, y’know?” 

You think on what he’s said. Surrounded by the warmth of their bodies, you laugh. 

“You had each other,” You tease. Katsuki scoffs and Izuku sounds like he’s whining. They’re both cute when they act like that. 

“Like you didn’t have your fucking boy-toy.” Katsuki spits, petty jealousy clear in his voice. Izuku suddenly gets very tense and pulls away. 

The utter devastation in his voice makes you feel a little bad, but another part of you feels vindicated and kinda happy they care. You hide a smile. 

“...Are you seeing someone else?” 

“If I was?” 

Izuku makes a face you can only describe as heartbroken, making you burst out in laughter. 

“Izuku, I was just kidding! Stop looking so sad.” 

“You’re so mean.” 

To think you could bring the number one hero in the country to tears fills you with silent pride. Katsuki pipes up behind you. 

“She was gonna fuck him. Her legs are all shaved.” 

Izuku gasps scandalized. 

“Who even is he?!” 

“A college boy,” You interject, dropping your head onto his shoulder “He was flirting with me when I went to buy cigarettes. Akio.” 

Izuku frowns deep and frustrated. 

“Sounds like a jackass.” 

“He’s a nice kid, Katsuki. I’m still gonna get drinks with him on Saturday, anyway.” 

Two voices shout at you at once. 

“What?” 

“The fuck?” 

You break out into a fit of giggles. 

“I promised I would if he studied.” 

“And you’re gonna go and tell the kid that you’ve got two great boyfriends at home right?” 

You grin a little. The possession in Katsuki’s voice is tangible. Izuku is silent but you can practically feel the frustration off him. You hum, pretending to think. 

“Is that what you two are?” 

“You’re so fucking evil, baby. Evil.” 

You shrug. 

“Dunno. The role of ‘significant other’ was vacant for a long time. Think I should give it up so easily?” 

Katsuki sits up, leaning forward and trapping you between them. Your heart leaps. 

“Wanna know what I think?” 

You nod, Katsuki’s eyes sharpen. 

“I think it’s a bad idea to provoke two heroes who could run laps around you, yeah?” 

You look up at him, smiling. 

“All that stamina should be put to good use, then. Earn your title, heroes. Sound good?” 

“You’re such a tease.” Izuku rasps behind you. You look up to see him, eyes cloudy. 

“I’m nice to boys who deserve it.” You say on a whim. Both of them react in a way you can’t predict, shock first then lust right after.

“Need you now.” Izuku says through a breath. 

“How do you want me?” 

“Want you to sit on my face. Want Kacchan to suck my cock.” 

The way he says it makes you reel. You look at Katsuki. He looks.. obedient. It’s the only way you can think to call it. Excited. Your insides twitch. 

“Fuck.” You groan “I want that.” 

“Kacchan?” 

“Shut up and take your dick out, nerd.” 

His demeanors cools you off a little, but it’s not enough to stop the anticipation growing. The three of you suddenly move in haste. There’s enough room to move around, bed creaking as everyone adjusts to comfort. You watch Izuku lay down flat on the bed, the whole thing dipping under the weight of his body. You’ve seen him naked before, but it’s always a sight to behold. His whole body is covered in freckles, dense around his shoulders and his thighs. 

He’s strong everywhere. As jacked as someone at his height could be, to deal with the burden of his quirk. Even so, the strongest part of him are his legs. Thick, muscular thighs that make your whole body go alight. He’s covered in scars of different sizes, smaller around his waist and middle. Dense on his arms and chest. 

There’s hair on his stomach and over his pecs. Above his cock, well-trimmed and neat. 

You feel your mouth go dry seeing Izuku’s cock sitting between his legs. You’ve never.. not like this. Your eyes are focus on it, trailing down the line. He isn’t cut, and the tip is darker than the rest. It does a hard curve left.

It’s so thick. Your stomach does a flip ar how unfathomable it is just looking at it. 

“Nerd’s fucking hung, isn’t he?” 

“You’re so big, Izuku. How do you even…?” 

“You scared?” 

You nod soft, and the both of them laugh. 

“Worry about it later. Want you to sit on my face.” Izuku tells you. His tone is so agreeable, crushing your remaining barriers. Welcoming. You squirm a little thinking about taking it, but resign yourself to his request. You crawl over to him, situating your thighs on either side of his face. 

Katsuki observers you for a minute before sitting between Izuku’s legs. You can tell from his confidence that he’s done it a hundred times before. There’s something about the position, the feeling that you’re getting off on each other that has your core feeling tight. Izuku puts his hands on the tops of your thighs. 

For the first time, you’re fully at a loss. Katsuki gives you a grin when he realizes what you’re thinking. Your eyes are glued to his form, his physique. The curves of is body when he gets on his knees and arches up. Your heart thuds against your ribs desperately. The blood is rushing into your ears, your hand tingles with nerves.

Izuku must know where you’re focusing too, because his hands gently squeeze the tops of your thighs. He doesn’t take you down, or even move. His breath fans against your sticky cunt.

“Wanna see me suck cock so bad?” 

Whatever over takes you is unspeakable. He just makes it sounds so good. The words die off in your mouth. You’re so wet, hyperfocused on the visual. Katsuki wraps his hands around the base of Izuku’s cock, and from under you there’s a moan. The realization hits all at once like a bulldozer leveling a city. You find yourself sinking under the crushing realization of what you’re doing. They’re pleasuring you, and each other. All together. 

The thought alone makes your head spin. 

“Keep your eyes on me. Don’t close ‘em, since you wanna be a fuckin’ pervert. And nerd,” 

“Hn?” 

“Don’t let her cum if I tell you she’s closin’ her eyes.” 

You can feel his smile under you. 

“Good idea, Kacchan.”

You gasp. Mumble something about them being evil, but the words don’t register. Without another minute of hesitation, Izuku all but drags you down to him. 

The moment you feel Izuku dart his tongue out, you think the world from under you falling. You want, desperately, to close your eyes. It’s not like you’ve never had someone go down on you. 

But Izuku isn’t just eating you out. He isn’t even really doing it for you. There’s a drunkeneness to it that has your thighs squeezing around his head. His hair tickles your skin and you’re so close you’re sure you’re suffocating him.  His arms secure themselves around your thighs until you’re trapped in his grip. His tongue is gentle for a briefly,  if only to welcome you the sensation.

 But right after, with only a second between, he sucks his clit into the heat of his mouth. It’s so shameless it startles you. Your jaw hangs open, and your eyes squeeze shut. Your facing forward. You can feel the ridges of his nose, the point of his chin as the full weight of your body drops onto his face. Your hands fly forward, splaying on his chest to give yourself some semblance of balance. 

Izuku moves like he isn’t thinking about anything other than tasting you. The drag of his tongue, muscles moving against your clit makes your toes curl. You bite your lip to cut off the sounds threatening to leave you only to give up minutes later. 

“Ngh, ‘zuku—” 

“Open your eyes, sweetheart.” 

You struggle but listen. Blearily, you set your focus on Katsuki. The feeling of Izuku and his ruthlessness adds to your delirium. Suspended, you watch Katsuki work Izuku’s cock and feel like you might really die. The visual impact is enough to send you tipping over an edge more quick you ever have in your life and the intoxicated way Izuku’s latched onto your pussy makes you feel like giving in. 

Katsuki is watching you back. This stuns you the most of anything. His eyes, red and fixed, are hard and looking at the place where your pussy meets Izuku’s chin. Even as he swallows around his cock, he’s looking at you. Meeting your gaze as he slides is tongue under the swollen head of his cock, flicking the tip. He’s only got one hand, placed carefully on Izuku’s thigh for balance. 

But the other is fisted around his cock. His cock. Long, pink, leaking in his palms. Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

Izuku moans under you, into you. Submerged in the feeling of euphoria, you let out a pathetic cry. Katsuki watches you. His gaze is like splitting atoms, an impossibility happening infront of your eyes. All at once, you take everything in to process. You take Katsuki dipping his head down, his pinks lips stretching around Izuku’s cock. His eyes, stuck on your silhouttete as he takes it down the base without so much as a gag - the drool dripping down onto his chin in the same way you’re doing into Izuku’s face. 

You take in the sight of him pulling off, mesmirzed by how much he’s taken. How good he is, how sloppy. Izuku is too, and something occurs in your head that maybe this is another way they mirror each other. The messy way Izuku eats your pussy, with his tongue and the whole of his mouth. With ridiculous fervor, with hazy determination. 

You can’t take your eyes off of Katsuki. You’re consumed by the way they both make you feel, and you want to reach across to kiss him. Leaning forward, you rock your hips against Izuku’s tongue. 

You want to kiss him. You’re going to kiss him. 

“Katsuki,” You breathe out, voice broken. You rut yourself against Izuku’s face again this time, harder, clit rubbing hard against his tongue. He lets out an appreciative little moan, that encourages you chase your own high. 

Balancing on Izuku with one hand and leaning forward, you reach your other one around Katsuki’s neck.

You kiss him. Over Izuku’s cock at first then around. The realization of what’s happening makes him moan into your mouth. Finger tangled in the blonde hair, you kiss him with tongue. The gesture is utterly absent minded. It’s greedy. You can’t help but want everything all at once and being apart from him is making you agitated. 

You make out around Izuku’s cock after you feel sorry enough. Fucking yourself into his mouth, hips rocking - you take it upon yourself to join Katsuki. Whenever Izuku feels it, his fingers dig into your legs. Little crescent shaped indentations appear from how hard he’s gripping, how much he’s whining against your cunt and sending waves through you. 

You’re so turned on, it’s hard to clear your head. Riding Izuku’s face with complete disregard, helping Katsuki suck his cock. The both of you around his shaft, trying to kiss each other while pre-cum stains the exchange. Everything feels like it’s blurry, like a motion shot - a picture taken with a moving subject.  

You’ve held out for so long - you don’t have a chance to warn Izuku as an orgasm approaches you a full, frightening speed. Raggedly, you cry out his name. Katsuki groans, stopping to fix his eyes on your face. 

Izuku makes a sound of appreciation, helping you fuck onto his tongue in the rhythm you did before. You hold yourself just barely. 

All at once, with everything fibre of your being - you find yourself cumming. It doesn’t feel like any orgasm you’ve ever had before, not ever in your life. Like a bow and arrow, your entire body goes taut before the string snaps hard. All the muscles in your body freeze then release, the tension replaced with an unending wave of euphoria. 

It feels so fucking good. So good you can’t breathe. 

“O—Oh, fuck. Fuuh, fuck.” 

You cum and can’t stop. Even as you try to pry yourself off, Izuku holds you down. They both stop in their motions, glued to you. Something warm and desperate starts to rush. A warbled warning comes out of you. 

“I-Izuku, it’s—” 

All at once, you lean completely bacl another brief wave of release hits. You can feel it. Fuck, you’re—

“Holy shit, sweetheart.” 

You reel all the way back as you squirt into Izuku’s mouth - left to listening to him swallow it down. An audible gulp sends your stomach in knots, and you nearly fall. If Izuku wasn’t holding you, you would’ve. 

You collapse forward again, this time completely. Wiggling your hips away. 

Izuku lets go of you. Gasping for a breath of air immediately as you pull away, you see his cock twitch. Your cheek pressed against his navel, you take a minute to collect yourself. 

“Oh my god. You two are going to kill me.” 

The room is almost completely silent. 

“...Have you ever?” 

“I didn’t even know I could do that.” 

Muffled underneath you, you hear Izuku. 

“Can I please get a warning the next time the two of you  decide to go at me at once? I almost came.” Izuku whines. You share a look with Bakugou before breaking out into laughter. 

“Be fucking grateful nerd, Fuck that was so hot. You have a mean streak, sweetheart. Pulling my fucking hair.” 

You laugh shakily. 

“You suck dick like a champ, Katsuki.” 

He snorts. 

“Shut up.” 

For a minute, silence stretches between you. You squirm slightly, before frowning.  Appreciative it’s comfortable despite the intense emotions left to linger. 

“I was the only one who came.” You say thoughtfully. 

“To be fair I almost did. I was flexing my muscles to stop.” Izuku admits. You giggle at the bit of honesty. 

“Katsuki… wanna make you cum. Both of you, but it doesn’t feel fair,” 

“I had fun, don’t worry. I dunno about the nerd, but I do wanna fuck you.” 

Even after doing something so insanely sexual, a flush crawls up your spine. 

“I..I want you to fuck me.” 

“Wanna fuck you too,” Izuku says underneath you. You wiggle your hips, closing your eyes. You feel a little guilty, even suggesting it. 

You flop onto your back, pulling away from Izuku. With your legs kicked up, you cover your face with your hands about what you want to suggest. 

“I… uhm. The both of you could.. fuck me at once. If you wanted to.” 

You’re almost too afraid of opening your eyes when you hear Katsuki pipe up. 

“Holy shit, are you serious?” 

You roll over, away from them. You try to anyway. 

Before you know what’s happening, Izuku is sitting up. Like you weightless than piece of paper, he flips you over and grabs you until you’re situating his lap. Katsuki sits up, behind you. His chest is pressed against your spine. The two of them look at you hard but you keep covering your face. 

Izuku swallows the spit in his mouth, starting at you. 

“Do you mean.. like.. the both of us? At once?” 

“Y-Yeah.” 

“...You ever taken it in the ass before, sweetheart? Shit aint easy,” Katsuki says in something akin to earnesty. 

You laugh warmly. 

“In college.” 

Katsuki snorts. 

“Fucking really? With your dweeb ass boyfriend?” 

“Kacchan.” Izuku tsks, though you’re sure they share the same sentiment. You nod. 

“Anyway, I have. A-and it.. that way we’d all be super close, yknow?” 

Katsuki groans. 

“Fucking hell,” 

“What Kacchan said.” Izuku says, blowing an amused puff of air through this nose.

“It’s not a big deal,” You grumble. Katsuki laughs. 

“Hearing our newly acquired significant other say they want us to D.P. them is a big deal, idiot.”

“You’re so vulgar.” 

Izuku smiles at you both fondly, absently reaching a hand out. He cups Katsuki’s face in his palm, looking down at you. 

“We have to prep you really well. And if it’s too painful at any point, you have to tell me or Kacchan, Okay?” 

“Mm…Okay. Love you, Izuku.” 

He splutters. Katsuki clicks his teeth behind you. 

“Love you too, Katsuki. Love you both so much.” 

“We love you too,” Izuku says, alreacdy on the verge of tears. Katsuki laughs. 

“What the nerd said.”

You relish in each others company for a while, soft and leaning into each other. After everyone’s caught their breath, Izuku pats your thigh. 

“Do you have lube?” Izuku asks. You laugh, nodding. 

“Top drawer of my vanity.” 

Izuku pressed a kiss to your temple, getting up. 

“Okay. Get comfortable and lay down, Kacchan, lay with her.” 

“Not the boss of me, shitnerd.” 

Despite himself, Izuku gets up to get your things and Katsuki does as he asks. You get yourself comfortable in the bed and your blonde boyfriend follows suit. He lays down close to you, turned slightly to face you. 

He puts a hand out, running his middle finger along your jaw until your face is pointed to him. The proximity is comforting, your eyes following his lips. It’s an awfully  tender gesture when he kisses you, softly pressing his lips to yours. You make a little sound of approval into his mouth, making him grin. 

“Nervous?” 

“A little. Two at once is a lot” 

He snorts. 

“I bet. Just relax yeah. We’ll start with the hard part. Should make it easier.” 

You give him a little smile, kissing the corner of his mouth. 

“You make anal sound very romantic.” 

“You fucking saps are rubbing off on me. Do you know how you want us?” 

You scrunch your nose in embarrassment. It’s not like you don’t have an answer. 

“I want you inside and Izuku in.. y’know.” 

He gives you a playful grin. 

“You a masochist or something?” 

“Shut up,” You say weakly, tucking your chin “Just seems like something he’d be into.”  

“Guess you’re not wrong about that,” 

Like you’ve conjured him from thin air, Izuku returns to your bed with a familiar  bottle of lube and some condoms. His face looks unusually red as you watch him get back on the mattress, settling in between your spread legs. 

“Izuku?” 

He stops for a minute, startled. 

“You… have so many sex toys.” He says. Your eyes widen before you break out into a laugh. You thought you’d be embarrassed if anyone ever saw but for some reason, you mostly find it funny. 

“You serious nerd?” 

“More than the two of us combined, Kacchan,” 

Katsuki turns to look at you, leaning in to give you a giggly kiss. 

“Nasty.” 

“It slipped my mind, You found what you were looking for though, right?” 

He gives you a nod, holding up a bottle of lube - nearly full. You ran out a couple of weeks ago.

Izuku puts a palm underneath your knee, your breath hitching. He looks at you seriously for a minute, thumb rubbing a circle into your skin. He gives you a look. 

“Tell me if it hurts. I’m gonna go really slow, ‘kay? And Kacchan, keep her comfy.” 

“Got a good idea for that,” Katsuki says. You look at him curiously. 

“Keep your eyes on us, sweetheart.” 

Nodding, you lift your legs a little higher. You hold yourself up, nails pressed into the back of your thighs. Just like Katsuki insists on, you keep your eyes on Izuku. He looks determined as he flicks the lid open. The lube is shiny as it pours onto his fingers in a thick, clear stream. Warming it up, he looks down. You’re conscious of his gaze, the way you’re so bare and exposed. You can feel how spread out you are because of the position. 

Izuku rubs the ring of muscle first, before doing anything else. You squirm at the sensation. It’s not unpleasant, but it isn’t pleasant either. It just feels a little intrusive as he touches it, rubbing along the creased skin. 

“Relax, love. Don’t think about it.” 

You try to follow his words, so you turn your attention to Katsuki. He gives you a mild look before you feel his hand reach out, groping your tits before sliding his palm down your body, squeezing you gentle. 

“When he pushes in, take a deep breath and exhale. And don’t worry about anything else.” 

You nod, feeling him inch closer to you. He kisses you this time, soft. His hand keeps going lower and lower until you feel a finger against your puffy clit. It aches from his fingers. You try not to move. 

“Good?” Katsuki asks.

“Little more to the left, please.” 

He hums at the feedback and does as you ask, rubbing your clit just enough to take your mind off of everything. You find yourself relaxing involuntarily from the pleasure. While your head is busied with it, he kisses you. Engages you in making out, taking time to suck on your tongue in the way he’s learned you like. It’s a messy kiss, too drooly than you think someone like him would be comfortable with. 

But the contact feels good, feels nice. Your pussy responds to each of his gestures noticably, a dull throb growing inside from the ache. You want to be fucked, and you’d take it in whatever way you can have.

“Don’t squirm, baby.” Katsuki says, pulling away from you in a pant. 

“Hard,” You say simply. He laugh, biting the roundest part of your cheek. 

“Sooner you’re prepped, sooner we can fuck you.” 

“Gonna push in okay? Take a deep breath.” 

You nod. Katsuki keeps you steady, breathing with you as you feel Izuku push in his middle finger in. It’s a just barely there sensation. You’re expecting some pain, but there’s nothing more than a dull sense of discomfort. You let out a long, deep breath, until you feel him reach the first knuckle. The prep is relatively uninteresting, but you can feel a stretch. A mild, sensitive feeling of invasion. 

But it feels.. dirty? Forbidden, somehow and that’s making your breath hitch. The both of them are staring so hard at you. Katsuki keeps rubbing your pussy to keep you at bay. You hiccup.

“Okay?” 

You nod. 

“Doesn’t hurt. Just feels… funny.” You say. Izuku breathes a sigh before he very slow pulls the finger out of you. Your heart pulses, a sense of relief when he takes it out that leaves you curious. Your eyes widen. Katsuki takes notice of your expression. 

“Feels nice?” 

“Y-Yeah.” 

Izuku goes a little faster this time, a little harder. When the motion is fluid, he’s careful to add another finger. You feel lube drip down onto your ass, the thick and sticky sensation. Katsuki leans into you. 

“Deep breath,” 

You listen, breathing deep as another finger joins him. This time the stretch is more noticeable. Izuku leans forward, kissing your knee where you’re holding it up. 

“Pretty little hole,” Izuku muses. Your eyes go wide from embarrassment when you hear Katsuki snicker at you.  Izuku doesn’t stop his mumbling, fixed on how your fingers suck him in “Can’t wait to fuck you.” 

Lost in a haze, his eyes flick up to you with a smile. It’s so disarming it startles you. You lean back. 

“Okay, baby?” 

“You’re s-so dangerous.” 

He frowns. 

“Why do you say that?” 

Katsuki scoffs above you, making you feel marginally better. You take another breath as he repeats the motions of before, slowly fucking into you. You feel your ass give as you get comfortable, your body no longer instinctively resisting the sensation. You feel yourself stretch and stretch and stretch, but it doesn’t feel the same as being torn open. There’s something strangely familiar about the gesture. 

Katsuki touches you through it. Teases your clit with his fingers and brings you to the edge, always stopping before you can cum. Despite your protest, you get the feeling it’s to help you cum while you’re getting fucked but not before then. You let out soft little moans of pleasure and the way Izuku is starting to fuck you open on his fingers is finally starting to feel like something besides funny. 

You look down at Izuku, who gives you a half smile. Something deep in you aches, it’s a sensation you haven’t felt in a long time. Bone-deep desire to be fucked and filled and close together leaves you oddly emotionaly. 

“You, okay? Think you’re ready?” 

You feel yourself squirm against Katsuki’s hand, who’s busied himself by cupping your pussy with his palm.

“I’m ready. Want you in my ass, and Katsuki in me,” You tell him. His eyes widen before he lets an involuntary groan. Sometimes his predictability is charming in it’s own way. 

“Yeah.. yeah. Then let Kacchan get underneath you, and I’ll get on top. Sound okay?” 

“Mm,”

It takes a minute to switch positions again but eventually you end up where you want. Katsuki lays comfortably on the mattress, head propped up on some pillows. Rubbing his cock with one hand lazily, he gives you smirk. 

“Hop on?” 

“Oh fuck you,” 

A laugh bubbles out of you as you crawl ontop of him, throwing your legs on either side of his hips. You hover over his cock, getting comfortable as you feel his hands grab your ass and squeeze, pulling them apart without shame. He’s got the same look as always, a cocky looking smile as he pivots his hips and rubs the head of his cock against your folds. Shuddering, you wrap your hand around the base. 

“Sure you don’t need prep?” 

You nod your head, biting your lip as you guide the head of his cock down a little lower. You feel Izuku behind you. 

“No condom?” 

“Wanna feel it.” You reply. Katsuki groans under as you guide the head to your entrance. You take a deep breath as you start to sink yourself on it. Going as slow as possible to make sure it doesn’t hurt, Katsuki does a hard hiss underneath you. His head tilts back, mouth open in loud moan. You feel his cock twitch inside of you as you finally push yourself to the last inch. 

When you bottom out you sigh, the familiar and pleasant sensation starting to ensnare you. Eyes heavy, you look at Katsuki who looks like he’s having a hard time keeping his head above water. Your hands go on  his chest. 

“Katsuki?” 

“I’ve never—holy shit—” 

“You’ve never done it like this?” 

“Bakugou lost his virginity to Kirishima and I lost mine to Ochako. So he’s never…” 

Unable to help your shock, an idea pops into your head as you lean forward. He feels so fucking good. He’s got a curve just upright that sits nicely inside of you, keeps you full and touches you in all the right ways. Beneath you he’s trembling, unable to shake the feeling. 

“Katsuki,” You purr, breathy as you lift your hips up. “Does that feel good?” 

“H-Holy fuck. Fuck, baby—you’re so wet. Feels like you’re gonna melt me,” 

With a little effort, you do an intentional squeeze around him. His eyes shoot open, gasping for air. 

“D-Don’t—You little shit. Squeezing me like that, stupid brat.” 

He holds your hips down where you stop, giving you a look that’s only half angry. 

“I’m just making you feel good.” You maintain. His hand comes down on your ass hard, making you laugh. 

“You can make me feel good without trying to milk me, fucksake. Slow down and let Izuku in,” 

You give him smile, leaning forward. Katsuki gets what you’re trying to do almost immediately. His hands squeeze your ass again, this time spreading you apart intentionally. You can only see from the corner of your eye because you’re squished into Katsuki’s chest - bare chest on his. But Izuku shoots off a deep, guttural groan as Katsuki offers him a smile. You feel his chin atop your head. 

“Don’t make her wait long, dweeb.” 

It happens just like that. Izuku approaches you, cock in hand and situates behind the two of you. You take in a deep breath when you feel the tip protruding against your hole. Everything… halts. Like the sound of something, a faint quiet before everything hits the ground running. You’re already stretched, already full with cock. Your head can’t wrap around taking anymore but still, Izuku persists. He grabs you with great strain, and pushes his cock into the tight ring with a choked cry. 

All three of you react to the feeling. He’s not even all the way in, but the deep sensation and pressure has you reeling already. Katsuki lets out a yelp. The both of them are grabbing you, anchoring themselves as Izuku pushes himself just barely inside. A tight fit wouldn’t even begging to describe it. You feel plugged up completely, from the inside. 

“C-Can I…? Can I please—” 

“Move, Izuku, move.” 

And he does. He does it slowly, at an awfully slow pace like he’s trying to keep you all the way together. Brain full of static, you’re absolutely fucking astounded. He pushes in a little more, and the heavy weight of his cock feels like it’s sinking. You can feel his cock against Katsuki’s inside of you. They both feel it at the same time because underneath Katsuki is twitching. Letting out pants, face strained and absolutely fucking out of it. 

The room is filled with a wet, sticky sort of noise as Izuku moves himself. He checks in, pushes when you confirm, and does it for what feels like ages until you feel his navel against you. He’s inside of you, completely inside of you. You feel… complete. It’s so fucking unbelievable. It feels like being torn apart, ripped in half. A sensation you couldn’t imagine existing. 

All while feeling incredible. It’s deep enough to push the air out of you, out of your lungs in a ragged breath. Your body goes limp, sweaty between the two of them. 

“Baby, baby, you feel incredible and K-Kacchan, can f-feel Kacchan in, Kacchan’s cock you, feels so good, love you both, love you so much—wanna move, can I? Can I move baby, need to—” 

“Fuck me,”

Like they do everything, they work together in sync so seamlessly in breaks you. Katsuki gives Izuku room to thrust first, letting him control the pace to make sure you’re not hurt. The feeling of his big cock, fucking your ass when you’re already so hopelessly full, is making your body feel completely limp. Every single nerve of pleasure that could be touched or toyed with is being rubbed against. Pleasured from the inside out, your mouth is fallen open in a silent scream. 

You’re all so close. You’re face is tucked into Katsuki’s neck where you can hear his every breath or moan or cry. Izuku is draped over you, his chin over your shoulder - mouth against your neck and licking the sweat off of your skin. One of your hands is on Katsuki’s chest, and the other is reaching around for Izuku - for something of him to hold onto. Your vision is blurry, and the world outside is finally starting to sink into the night.

 Room painted in an vibrant orange daylight, you’re soaked in pleasure that feels hedonistic. The violent waves of pleasure leave you feeling like kindling - the thing that makes fires burn. The first time you cum from this, you don’t register it completely. The bliss of the experience isn’t concentrated. You feel the dull throb of desire - starting from the top of your head to the soles of your feet. 

You cum, the first time, without any intention. The forces around make it happen and the way you squeeze makes both men have to stop completely as you ride out your high - the feeling of it overshadows your first orgasm. 

It’s an out-of-body experience. You start to see your vision go white, and when you’re finished - you feel the two of them start to fuck you again. This time it’s slower, more deliberate as they try to drag the feeling out.

Izuku wraps a hand around your waist, sticks between your body and Katsukis. You feel his fingers on your clit, wincing. His voice is soothing, gentle. 

“I love you. Want us all to cum together. I love you so much. We’re so close. One more, okay? Just one more.” 

“I love you, sweetheart. Love you too, nerd. Give us one more. Together?” 

You don’t know what it is. It’s a weird fucking time to get all emotional, all worked up into nothing. Still, you find yourself nodding. It’s a strange time to think you’re so in love but you’re so worked up, so blissful like you’re being cradled by the golden threads of the sun. Warm all over your body in as much measure as you’re burning with lust. The feeling of their bodies, of Katuski placing kisses on your skin and Izuku pressing himself to your cheek. 

Izuku panics when you cry, but you reassure him that you’re fine. And you are fine, completely and utterly fine. There’s just something terrifying about being loved at such a magnitude - being able to do something like this at all without any pretense or fear. The mutual sensation of trust and all the pleasure.

Everything that happened, the life you’ve lived so far that once felt blurry comes to you with clarity. Like clear water, your love appears in front of your eyes, and it appears clear. It was never worthless. Never meaningless. Always meant to be, and always purposeful. The two of them have loved you with so much intention since the beginning, and it’s taken this long to take it in. To realize. 

With a shaky, soft voice - you warn them. 

“G-gonna cum.” 

You let go this time, pure relief running through. A few more short thrusts have them both following suit. Feeling them twitch inside of you at the same time makes your heart feel strangely full. It’s all a little stupid, but when the adrenaline starts to settle - you can’t help but smile. 

The room is completely dark as the three of you lay together in the silent aftermath. Your eyes  feel heavy as you fall forward. 

__ 

You don’t wake up till the next morning. 

It’s a little disorienting, truthfully. The sun isn’t out, instead the day is wrapped by comfortable clouds and cool rainfall. You don’t even know the time as you finally get yourself up - though you’re both naked and clean. 

Sitting up in your bed, memories of last night return to you swiftly. Your lower back throbs painfully. You laugh, putting your hand on it while you rub your eyes. Looking around your room, you find a stack of clothes with a note on top. 

“In the kitchen. Get dressed and come join us.” Written in Katsuki’s handwriting. 

Standing up to stretch, you rub the remaining tired out of your vision and throw out what clothes have been set for you before unlocking your door and stepping out into the living room. 

You’re surprised to find the both of them still there. Izuku is pouring cat food for Ganache, while Katsuki is at the stove making something that smells nice though you aren’t sure what it is. 

You hear Izuku first. He turns around to find you dressed, his face breaking out into a smile. Without a warning, he picks you up and spins you around in his arms. You let out a squeal. 

“Ah, Izuku! Wait, I haven’t brushed my teeth,” 

“Don’t care. Kiss! Kiss!” 

You can’t help but relent to him as he carries you effortlessly in his arms. He places kisses all over your neck and face before kissing you on the lips. You get comfortable against him, surprised by how sturdy it is. He rubs his face against you as he carries you on one arm, dragging you to Katsuki who looks at you a little unamused. 

You lean over to kiss him on the lips which he returns with soft smile. 

“You fucking idiots better sit down to eat. Swear to god.” 

Instead of answering, you kiss him one more time. He rolls his eyes but returns the gesture before busying himself back with the food. 

Izuku eases you on the counter instead of either you going back to sit. He stands between your legs. 

“Thanks for making breakfast. What time is it?” 

“11:32,” 

Your eyes widen immediately, as you scramble up. 

“Shit, I have work today.” 

Izuku stops you, looking sheepish. 

“No you don’t.” He says, looking away. 

“Huh?” 

Katsuki grins, flipping over the rolled egg with a self-satisifed laugh, 

“Sometimes,” He starts, pouring more egg into the pan “Being a Pro-Hero has it’s perks.” 

You immediately start into a fit of laughter, leaning forward to nuzzle into Izuku’s chest. 

“And you two?” 

Izuku’s voice reverberates. 

“Called in some favors. Thought it’d be good to spend a day together.” 

You feel like you’re in one long dream. After everything. There’s still so much to talk about but you let yourself ride the high.  Contented, you sigh, wrapping your arms around Izuku and closing your eyes. 

“I think so too.”

[lokisbiiiitch1993]

Those believed dead live longer - Loki Fic -angst / fluff

Two years have already passed since the love of your life died - after all this time you still feel so sad and devastated .

You miss him very much - life felt boring and pointless without him .

Tears fall after the thought of him - remembering his charmant and flirty Personality - he made you feel special every day .

Loki always craved your Attention - you knew he had a difficult Childhood so you tried to give him all your Love and Affection.

The only thing that helped you with your Sorrows was being a part of the Avengers they are like a Family to you and Thor become your Best Friend.

The loss of Loki brought you and Thor closer- you both were always there for each other

From Time to time you were talking about Loki with Thor and telling Stories about him . Saying almost synchronized - I miss him - and smile at each other .

This morning you woke up with a smile telling yourself it will be a good Day - Suddenly you heard shouting and arguing outside - the voice is all too familiar but how is that possible - Loki is dead you are telling yourself - your Brain is trying to play tricks on you. But you couldn't help yourself, you needed to see it for yourself . Thor and Loki are standing there .

Loki looks happy to see you again and Thor looks angry and betrayed at his Brother.

Tears running down your face. You are alive ? But how ? Why? Why were you? Why didn't you let me know ? - you said with a sad and quiet voice .

You were so shocked - you ran back to your Room - crying

Sobbing - whimpering

You can't calm yourself

Then you heard Loki from the other side

Darling, please,let me come in

I need to talk with you

Please, I want to explain

I am sorry for leaving you, letting you alone for so long

I got cold feet - I was selfish - I wanted time for myself to think

Listen , I missed you terribly - I needed to see you

I love you - I know it was wrong but please let me see you and talk say something, please

I .... I mourned you!! I cried for you all the time and still do !! I missed you - you answered in an angry tone

I am here , I promise you I will never leave you again, please give me another chance

I loved you - you shouted

Loki couldn't stand it anymore and opened the Door

You screamed at him - Don't come any closer, just do what you can best and leave me alone - I feel soo betrayed - I thought you were dead - all this time - I suffered - you broke my Heart

My Love , please, I am so sorry,scream at me ,hit me do what you want but don't give up on me - Loki pleaded

You looked at him with tears in your Eyes - touching his Face - to feel him - to see if he is really here and to prove that you are not dreaming.

Hugging him -You guided him to your bed and cuddled

Telling him you can't forgive and forget that - so easily but also can't give up on him

We need to work on ourselves and our Relationship

But for now I just want to be close to you

Surprising him with a kiss and another that turned quickly hot and passionate

Tell me if you are interested in a part 2 with smut 😅🔞😉

Reblogs are appreciated ❤️

My Masterlist

[a-strange-inkling]

Day 15: Hot Chocolate

(Part Two of Day 5: Snowman)

Hawkins, Indiana 1992

They’re packed in the Harringtons’ living room, drinking hot chocolate to warm up, and all hell is breaking loose. 

“Oh my God, Henderson!” Steve exclaims from the kitchen, where he’s laddling out his delicious homemade crockpot cocoa, made with a special secret ingredient (it’s almond extract…for being a secret, he really likes to tell everyone what it is). “Just make up your mind! Who wins!?” 

“Quiet, Steve,” Dustin orders him from where he is lounging on the couch with a full warm belly, hands pressed together against his lips contemplatively, watching The Muppet Christmas Carol with Dusty and Charlie on either side of him. “I’m digesting mentally and physically, let me think.”

“The competition is already over,” Eddie pipes up from where he is sitting with Chrissy on the loveseat, Maggie nestled cozily in between them, drinking her ‘cool girl’ cocoa (chocolate milk) from her sippy cup. “We were only supposed to make one snowman and the Harringtons made two. Munson family wins by default.” 

“I told you, Steve!” Gwen whines from the armchair, bouncing baby Milo on her knee. “I told you we shouldn’t have put so much work into the dog.”

“Hey, hey, hey the snowdog is adorable, and the rules said we could add accessories.” Steve snaps.

“A dog is not an accessory! It’s a replica of a living thing! It counts as a whole other sculpture!” Eddie nearly screams making Maggie turn in his lap and cover his mouth with her hands. “No, Daddy, no cry, no cry.” 

“I’m not crying, Mags.” he replies in muffled assurance. “Just making sure the rules are being followed here.”

“No mean to Tee Tee!”

Chrissy bursts into a fit of giggles at the toddler’s passionate display of defense for her Uncle Steve, quick to take a sip to hide behind her mug when Eddie shoots her an insincere scowl.

“Yeah, Munson,” Steve agrees with a shit eating grin. “No mean to Tee.”

“Yeah, well, Tee is a cheater.” Eddie counters pointedly. 

Chrissy gives his arm a little squeeze, before pulling it around her, leaning against his shoulder. He huffs, snuggling back against her. Is he being immature? Yes. But there is no way they can compete with the cuteness of that snowdog. 

“Does that mean we lose?” Dusty asks, sporting a chocolate stash from his mug. “Are we the losers, Uncle Dustin?” 

“No, namesake,” he comforts, patting his head benignly, taking a long sip of his cocoa. “I’ve made the decision to judge the individual snowmen and leave the dog out of it, to keep it fair.” 

Eddie throws his head back laughing maniacally. Without that dog their generic ass snowman has nothing on David Snowie. 

“Eddie.” Chrissy scolds.

“Are you kidding me!?” Steve cries, coming in with his own mug after serving Olivia and David who quietly go to sit together on a blanket in front of the couch, blissfully ignoring the rowdiness around them and enjoying their own company instead.

“Who decided to have you be the judge anyway, Henderson?” Steve asks (he did), the dish towel on his shoulder suddenly in his hand being waved in the young man’s face. “You clearly have no idea how to properly evaluate snowmen and you’ve let all this power go to your head. You keep changing the rules.” 

“Oh, now you don’t want him judging, Harrington? Now that he’s not letting you cheat?” Eddie asks incredulously.

“Alright, alright,” Dustin yells over the arguing, raising his hands to silence everyone. “I can see there will be no peace until I cast my judgment, so…”

He pauses the movie and stands, clearing his throat, brushing off his sweater. “After having fully assessed both of the Harrington and Munson family’s entries in the First Annual Impromptu and Totally Pointless Snowman Competition, I hereby decree that…” he pauses dramatically while everyone waits with anticipation. 

“That you both tie.” he smiles triumphantly, placing his hands on his hips.

It’s silent for all of eight seconds before everyone starts yelling and screaming in protest.

@hellcheerxmas

[transmasc-rose]

oh, why don’t you like amy’s choice? genuine question, i’m curious. i’m pretty neutral on it myself. (except for the part where amy tells eleven they’re going to drive themselves to their deaths and he doesn’t even really argue, he just gets in the van. driven insane by their dynamic in that moment

Hello! Thank you for the ask!

First I want to say that, by all means, me disliking Amy's Choice is just my own opinion. I'd love to hear why others like the episode, and I do like several individual pieces of it! On top of that, I've only watched the episode once, about 3 weeks ago--my memory on specifics is going to be a bit hazy. It's entirely possible I'd have a less visceral reaction on a second go through.

I'll put this under the cut for length. (I am incapable of being concise lmao)

I think a lot of the things I dislike about the episode aren't necessarily the episode's fault, but more connected to my personal dislike of certain tropes/themes in media as a whole being used in the episode.

I'm tired of the "pick between two boys" trope that is inescapably the question of the episode, for example. The "choose right now" without any time for nuance.

I remember some of the arguments for the quiet life leaning into the "grow up and lose the fantasy" which is again, another trope I personally find irksome. And the implicit push towards that being the "correct" thing for Amy to want (with the Doctor wants her to marry Rory, having her eventually marry Rory, etc.).

And then there's the episode theoretically being about determining which was real (neither were), but being presented in a way to cause conflict in the group.

Which, I'm not against there being conflict (Rory and the Doctor are often in conflict in s5). Or Amy doing whatever she wants. But by the end of the episode it felt like she didn't actually have much of a choice in the matter, and the writer wasn't really committed to any conclusion, including the "the question was pointless" conclusion that they... sort of go with? In that both sides were an illusion, and the Doctor ultimately blows the whole simulation up.

...which brings me to another point, which was that, in the end, Amy's Choice was pointless, because the Doctor is just going to step in and fix it all anyways. Whatever she decided was real, or whatever she decided she wanted, didn't matter because the doctor knew best.

(And I love the Doctor being morally weird when the writer knows what they're doing. I just don't think they did in this specific instance, and I'm given to believe this is going to happen later in 11's run as well.)

The Doctor being willing to hop in the van no questions asked was wild though, you're right. Also can't believe they got the "What do you do to stave off the--" "boredom?" "--self harm?" joke through the censors. I love a lot of the scenes individually, I just think the episode is lesser than the sum of its parts.

[masterwords]

a fine line

This WIP has been sitting in my drafts forever waiting for...something. And I don't have that something, so it's just here. Hotch's injuries after Perotta should have been a little more extensive, and I can't be held responsible for putting Morgan in a situation to help him out. (2.2k messy, pointless, choppy and unedited words)

**

“Aaron?” Haley asked, swiping her hand over the once warm place he'd occupied in their bed. It was rumpled enough that she knew he had come to bed. Later than her, she'd been there hours before he came home, and now he was gone again. “Aaron?”

Silence. At first, but after a moment she could hear him in the bathroom. The shower was running, hot steam filtering slowly beneath the door. She thought about getting up, checking on him, but it was 4am. He was probably being called in and he hated to be bothered while he got ready for work. There was a certain routine he insisted on in order to prepare himself for the work he would have to do, the things he would have to stomach, the pieces of his soul he would have to guard. He had to set his mind right, block out everything that made him human.

They had argued plenty over it. She only wanted to help, to make him coffee or breakfast, help him in some way. Be part of it instead of always being on the outside. But she couldn't, and at a certain point she stopped trying. So, with one fearful glance at the closed bathroom door, she lay back down and pushed her face beneath the covers to go back to sleep. His side of the bed smelled like him and she would have to be content with that for now.

Jack woke while he attempted to drink a cup of coffee. Just a diaper change and a bottle, both of them managed to stay entirely silent so Haley could stay sleeping. It was both the most and the least he could do in his condition. Jack was a baby, he didn't need conversation, he needed action.

He managed to slip out of the house before she woke again, his starched and stiff collar high on his neck, tie pulled tight. The bruises, Perotta's marks, had deepened in the hours since the junkyard. His neck was flooded nearly black with bruises, one deep red pressure cut slicing through the middle garish and mad. Walking from his car to the front door, his mouth filled with saliva and the thought of swallowing it nearly brought tears to his eyes. He'd been spitting into a cup for the last few hours, the swelling in his throat finally reaching the point that swallowing was nearly out of the question. But he couldn't spit into a coffee cup in front of Quantico so he forced himself to swallow and nearly cried for the pain of it. His grip on the coffee cup tightened while he rode the elevator, while the saliva once again built up with nowhere to go but down or out. If he wasn't careful, he'd be sick, and then he'd really be in for it.

Gritting his teeth, he made his way from the elevator to his office without more than a good morning wave at the few people who were in earlier than he was. They probably had actual work to do, he was just hiding his injury from his wife. Home only long enough to sleep for a couple of hours. She wasn't going to understand this one, not with a new baby at home. It was a miracle he'd managed to come home and leave without Jack crying and waking Haley, and he knew he couldn't do it again.

He would have to find a way to make it seem better than it was.

The hum of the fan in his office was calming. His heart beat in time with its quiet rhythm and he popped the top off of the coffee cup to spit inside, praying no one would come and witness it. He was lucky, just barely got the lid back on before Gideon sped by with a quick glance and a wave. Anyone else and they might have stopped to chat, but even if Gideon had figured him out, seen what he was doing, he doubted very much that he would stop and inquire. Close call. He set the coffee cup on his desk and settled into his seat. There had to be something he could do to entertain his mind, focus him on something other than the strangling pain in his throat.

Garcia showed up with donuts, the giant pink box filling her arms to the brim. Maple bars, pink sprinkles, chocolate, all the classics. His stomach growled just thinking about that glazed blueberry cake donut right there in front. She was holding the box open and indicating it, like she'd picked it out just for him. “Sir?” she asked, curious at the look of desire on his features but his lack of motion. “The blueberry one is most definitely for you. The last one they had.”

He'd already attempted talking, just to himself in the car, and there was no way he could do it without coming under instant scrutiny. His voice was strangely crushed sounding, gruff and breathy, air through a bent straw. So he just smiled and reached out for the donut, placing it on the napkin she'd put on the desk for him and trying to force the words “Thank you” out as quickly and evenly as he could. She caught it, just briefly, but didn't know him well enough to say anything. He was intimidating enough with his frown set, that deep crease between his eyebrows that told her not now, maybe not ever...so she smiled at him and closed the box.

“You are ever so welcome, sir,” she said a little quieter, a little more serious before turning and leaving. Maybe she would talk to Derek, he seemed to be the only one who ever talked to Hotch with any sort of confidence. Sometimes it was uncomfortable to watch, the way he stood up to Hotch's orders, questioned them either in public or in private, but there was something there. Some mutual respect or admiration, so when he did that...Hotch listened. He may not always side with Derek when all was said and done, but he would always give Derek the floor and to Garcia that spoke volumes. So, with her box of donuts, she made the rounds until she ended at his desk.

“Hey, you,” she said, leaning against his desk. “You want some sugar?”

“Not during office hours, hun,” he replied, swirling around in his chair and waggling his eyebrows at her. “Ohhh you got maple bars!”

“Nuh-uh, that last one is for boss man's afternoon snack. You know how he gets when he has meetings through the lunch hour...I got you the chocolate with sprinkles.”

Derek scrunched his nose and frowned, but in the end he only shrugged it off and grabbed the chocolate frosted donut gladly. Any donut was better than no donut. In truth, he doubted very much that Hotch would feel like eating that or any donut after the junkyard but Garcia didn't know that, she didn't watch it happen. He was waiting for the right time to approach him about it, and watching Gideon breeze past Hotch's office told him that time hadn't come yet. If Gideon didn't think it appropriate, he would wait too.

Until Garcia opened her mouth. She leaned forward and in a hushed whisper that made the hair stand up on the back of his neck, she spoke. “I don't think he's okay,” she started, flicking one finger against a crumb of frosting stuck in the corner of Derek's lips. “Can you check on him? Please?”

“Babygirl,” he sighed, shoving the last bite of the donut he'd made very short work of into his mouth. “If he's in bad shape after last night, he'll wanna be left alone for a while. He's here in the office, that's something.”

“Not enough,” she huffed indignantly, pushing the giant box at Derek's chest. One final donut remained. “Take this up to him later. That's your excuse.” He rolled his eyes but there was no telling that woman no, so he agreed. He'd go up in a bit, give Hotch time to settle into his day. Curiously, he clicked around until he was in Hotch's schedule, he had full access to it as his lead, as his former partner, and usually all he did was add things to it but slowly he poked around finding things he could pull off instead. A consult here, a deposition request there, until his schedule looked light enough that they might have time for a chat in a bit. Sure, Derek had his own work to do, but Elle and Spencer didn't look too busy so he was able to pass things on down the line.

“Hey, Hotch, you got a minute?” Derek asked, just after the lunch hour, after an entire day of tooling around without seeing Hotch leave his office one time. Not even for a quick bathroom break. Hotch nodded and slipped his hand around the coffee cup on his desk, sliding it out of the way. As if Derek wouldn't immediately notice the shift, the slight movement, and frown.

“You go to the doctor like Gideon told you to?”

Hotch glowered, his eyebrows dangerously close together. “No,” he rasped, his hand immediately flying to his throat without any thought. The sharp burst of pain at the first word he'd spoken since thanking Garcia was shocking and if he'd been standing, he might have found himself more than a little weak in the knees. Derek didn't need any other evidence before shutting the door behind him and entering Hotch's office completely.

“Let me see.”

He set the maple bar down beside the untouched blueberry donut and came around Hotch's desk, leaning his hips there casually. He reached out slowly, and backed up just a little when he caught the slightest hint of a flinch, like he was afraid. It was gone as fast as it came, and if Derek was anyone else he might blurt something out, mention it, but Derek had experience. He'd been there through others, he'd held his hand in the ambulance after Bale, he understood deeply. So he pressed forward until his lithe fingers tugged gently at the knot in the tie, loosening it just enough that he could unbutton the stiff collar on his shirt. Immediately he found himself faced with a sight he wasn't prepared for, the brutality of it immense. He ached to go back in time, the pressure of the gun in his hands, a direct line of sight to Perotta's forehead. One bullet, right between the eyes, and this damage might not be so bad.

But this was his failure. He listened to Gideon, and he let this happen. “Hotch,” he whispered, his fingers lightly dancing over the other man's jaw, trying to get a view of each angle. “I'm so sorry. I shoulda shot that bastard. I had him in my sights.”

“You did...” Hotch rasped and Derek shook his head, pressing his thumbs lightly around Hotch's adams apple just to see. He had some limited EMT training from his days with Chicago PD, and he was rusty but it was better than the nothing Hotch was willing to consent to outside of this office. The swelling was obvious, he could feel it with barely any pressure. “Gideon's orders.”

Derek scoffed. It was a little louder than he intended and he saw the corner of Hotch's lips tick upward in a small attempt at a smile. Derek loved Gideon in his own way, but he didn't like him much tehse days and he certainly didn't trust his judgment. Maybe he hadn't since Boston. “Yeah, well...”

“It's okay Derek.”

“No, it's not,” Derek said quieter, lifting Hotch's jaw to feel beneath the sharp angles. Hotch didn't fight him, didn't move a muscle. Breathing hurt enough that he was on the verge of tears with every swallow, every breath in, so arguing with Derek felt more than a little out of the question.

“Alright. Alright, I'll stop beating myself up if you stop talking...deal?”

Hotch kept up his end of the bargain, but Derek did not. He couldn't let it go. Slowly, carefully, he opened Hotch's collar the rest of the way and told him to wait a moment. Out and back in a flash, straight to the freezer for an ice pack and a cup of ice chips, then the door was closed once again. The ice pack was rested gently against his neck, against the worst of the bruises, and he let Derek hold it there for just a minute before Hotch took it in his own hand and breathed frigid relief against the cooling of his fevered skin.

“Haley must not know yet, huh? Otherwise I doubt you'd be here right now...”

Hotch couldn't help smirking and shrugging, met with only a nod of understanding.

Derek nudged the cup of crushed ice and the spoon in Hotch's direction with a smirk. “Betcha skipped breakfast...and lunch.”

Ice chips. He was starving and Derek had ice chips for him. “You want me to run out for some ice cream or something? I could use a reason to get outta here.”

Hotch smiled and nodded, still not eager to talk. Derek doesn't need him to say a word, but before he left Hotch pushed both donuts in Derek's direction. Getting to have the coveted maple bar didn't feel quite as good now, not while he was sitting here in Hotch's office being given the strangest silent treatment of his life. The first time he'd ever demanded it. But he did enjoy those donuts while he sat there in silence thinking about putting a bullet in Perotta's skull.

Right between the eyes. Pow.

[darkstache-angel]

Fall For You

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 761

Pairing: Darkiplier x gn!Y/N

Tags: ANGST , attempted suicide (not successful) , ambiguous ending (not quite happy, not quite sad)

Dark sat in the shadows of the night over the rooftop. Downtown LA was always prettiest at night with all of the lights and clouds intersected by the skyscrapers. He would often come up alone and think about the day, relaxing on his own. It became his safe space.

Celine found joy in letting out her screams here. Damien liked to contemplate the fall and end of their suffering. Dark liked that they were quiet. They didn’t argue up there, they were peaceful and left to dream. 

On this particular night, Anti had lashed out. He’d called the man emotionless and pointless. Nothing but a manipulator. Of course, he understood the reason for this outburst. He had been emotionless every time Anti had exploded. Every time he lashed out, Dark couldn’t help but just let it happen, believing he deserved his anger. There were times he was cut, nearly stabbed, and once when he was pushed into a counter that he had a scar from the corner cutting into his side. 

This time, he found himself just quietly contemplating the feeling of the fall. He wondered about the feeling of the crash. What would it feel like to break his bones and his neck and let it all go? The peaceful quiet would envelope him… he would be free of the constant bickering in his head and all around him. It would be nice.

That’s how he found himself standing on the five story roof top, staring down. When he heard the hum beside him, he didn’t startle. He just sighed.

“Aren’t planning on jumping, I hope.” He looked over to find you sitting beside his feet. “I heard what Anti said before he left.”

“Mmm… It was quite the show.” Dark slipped his hands into his pockets. He felt the breeze swaying him forward ever so slightly. He enjoyed the dance with death edge.

You nod in agreement. “Such a beautiful night, pity he had to strike you so deep.” You look up at the demon with a blank face. It was calculated as you knew Wilford was hiding in the bushes at the bottom of the mansion in case Dark decided to test death. You looked back out into the city. 

“His words were just that.. Words.” Dark murmured, glancing down at you. 

You knew that was a lie. Those words that Anti spoke were the few things he was insecure about. You were lucky he didn’t strike a darker chord. It was close when he started going into how he couldn’t even save you from death, how could he expect to save anyone else? Dark knew that was the path he was taking, but you had grabbed Anti and kicked him out. You had been furious while Dark simply stood in his place, cheek bleeding from the thrown knife that nicked him. 

“You did your best back then. And I appreciate all that you did. You freed me from the mirror.” Your words were honest, but they seemed to hit a wall. Dark nodded a bit. You both knew that Wilford still didn’t understand the concept of death, but that if he did, he would be very sorry for what he had done. You both chose not to remind him. Going mad meant he didn’t have to suffer like you both did. He didn’t have to replay the memories every day.

The air became chilly as Dark leaned forward just slightly. You reached out for him, grabbing his wrist as he fell. Without a sound, you fell as well. He held you to his chest as he turned mid air. He would bear the brunt of the force on his back as you two plummeted towards. It was quieter than you expected.

“I love you, Darling.”

His words were soft in your ear as you buried your face in his neck. Then, the rushing air stopped as your falling slowed. A familiar voice called out from the ground.

“I called in some help,” Wilford said as you were safely lowered to the ground. Marvin the magician stood beside you guys as Dark was lowered to his feet. You didn’t respond, just looked up at Dark with a curious expression. He looked back with a blank stare, just like always. Then, he leaned forward and kissed your forehead before turning to Marvin and thanking him with a nod. He left the scene hands in pockets and head held high. 

But the shell of Damien curled up and looking particularly dead inside told you three the truth of his feelings. 

[encantoartdump]

Feliz Cumpliaños, Señor Rojas-Madrigal!

It was an odd sensation, the man was usually awoken by one of Antonio's bird friends by now. Or at least by the bright rays of the sun from Pépa's morning romps with Félix. No one is surprised by that anymore. Alas, it seemed with the slow rise and fall of his bare and neatly trimmed chest, that he was still off in slumber; every so often with a twitch or two and a mumble about bee's being everywhere. The poor man was haunted even in his dreams of the creatures, they wouldn't pose such a threat to him if he'd just let Antonio relocate the nests- but he insisted that it was him encroaching on them that caused the stings, they weren't naturally violent things.

That's the kind of man Agustín Wilmer Rojas-Madrigal was.

The morning was peaceful and quiet, very much unlike any other morning. If it weren't the sunrays or the birds waking him- a violent and sudden rapping on the door from his youngest would surely give his not-so-old heart a jolt and wake him up better than the strongest Colombian café. Only thing usual about this morning was the empty side of the bed where Julieta usually slumbered. How he missed the mornings where she'd feel just as lazy as Pépa, and hunker down in his arms. Breathe in his scent, more or less from the night before during throes of passion, that she was so addicted to. Of course, Alma would scold her for those days, but Julieta would always give him a look that read 'worth it'. Before going about her day as normal, just in hyper-speed to make up for lost time lazing.

Slowly peeling his dark hazel eyes open, only to dilate and force his lids shut quickly as a beam of sunlight happened to seep through the closed slats of their window and cascade just over his eyes. There's that sudden rush of adrenaline he was used to in the mornings. If it wasn't one thing- it was another. It was bad enough he couldn't hardly see, sans glasses, but now the sun was trying to take the rest of his sight! Sitting up and rubbing his eyes to get the sun spots out of them from the sudden onslaught of light. He felt around for his glasses to which he heard them fall and clatter to the ground, and with a defeated sigh... he froze. Debating- if he got out of bed to look for them, he would more than likely end up stepping on them, or kicking them under the bed. But, he couldn't just sit in bed waiting for Julieta to come rescue him- she might be out all day with her cart full of arepas and bunellos for the villagers. The conundrum came to a halt when he went to rest on his arm and slipped off the edge of the bed; with a loud thud he came crashing to the ground and turned his head, his glasses laying right next to him.

What luck.

Not ever one to look a gift burro in the culo- he gripped the arms of his glasses and slipped them on, pushing himself up and standing. He swore he'd gone to bed fully clothed- taking note in the vanity mirror at the other side of the room that his shirt was missing and- GASP -his night cap! He knew Julieta hated the damn thing, but it completed his ensemble! He was also painfully aware that sometimes his beautiful wife often would unbutton his night shirt as he slept so she could put her face to his skin- claiming it's far more calming than that itchy fabric of his night shirt. He couldn't argue that it wasn't itchy... but it was comfortable! Aside from the itch.

Looking around suspiciously, there was no sign of Julieta, no sign of Miraboo- no sounds of Camilo and his grandeur over-the-top dramatic rehearsals with Bruno. Nothing at all. He often felt left out of many family ordeals when it came to Madrigal gift-events... and when everyone would leave Casita for their morning jobs, it was always he and Félix left behind to clean Casita... which was a pointless job and they both knew it... because Casita could clean itself! They had once tried to get Mirabel excited about helping around the house like that... before she fixed everything with Alma and brought Bruno back. She was not impressed. Honestly, neither were they as they tried to break it down and make it sound important.

So Agustín decided to get dressed, slipping into his usual dark blue pinstripe slacks with matching vest, long sleeved white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, navy blue tie with brown dress shoes and the peace de la resistance... his mismatched socks and flor on his chest. He figured he didn't have any wood to chop today, nor anything else around Casita to help with, so he'd venture into the surrounding jungle to find that perfect spot where he found the cutest little chamomile flor that he'd present Julieta every time he came to her for healing when they were younger. It'd been a little bit since he'd gotten her one. Usually her apron pockets were weighed down and brimming with the things, but he'd been relatively careful after Bruno returned to live with them... well, he'd supposed he'd always been living WITH them... but returned to being PRESENT.

He opened the bedroom door and immediately was wrapped up in vines and blindfolded by a flower crown- Isabela. "Bellbell-" Agustín spoke quietly, as to not hurt Dolores' ears, not knowing where the quiet girl might be skulking around. "Sí, papa?" His eldest daughter's playful tone made the man's heart melt, he couldn't ever be mad at the kids, even Camilo. It just wasn't in him to be. "The blood is rushing to mí cabeza. Could you let me down, and perhaps explain the ambush?" He asked his daughter in the calmest and sweetest tone. "I can let you down- but I can't explain and you can't take the flower crown off your eyes."

Now that made him raise an eyebrow, usually reserved for flirting with Julieta- his hand was forced when Isabela said something curious. "You can't tell me why you ambushed me?" He was slowly let down from the snare of vines and he stood up, respecting her wishes and leaving the flower crown over his eyes. Even going as far as to adjust it along with the rest of his outfit, once he stood on his feet. "Correct, papa. I promised I'd keep you busy- and can't disclose information or I'll have to suspend you again" She stated with a sly smile "Sorry, papa. Thems the rules." Agustín smiled and shook his head "Camilo's been teaching you strange terms again?" He asked her with a chuckle and Isabela could only giggle along "no this time it was Tío Félix." Agustín should have figured it was Félix's doing- one way or another... it was the yellow team teaching his daughter odd outlandish slang. She lived for it, his little wild child. Ever since Mirabel fixed the miracle, and Alma's let up on being so overpoweringly controlling, Isabela's really come out of her shell with her own wild personality. Honestly reminding Julieta and Agustín of a young Pépa, which was only slightly terrifying.

"Is that pa?"

A voice called up from the dining room just adjacent to la cocina, Isabela soon responding "No. It's Camilo, I have him tied up in case papa comes out." The sound of sarcasm in her voice being evident, "that ain't me!" another voice called up from the dining room and Agustín was certain he heard Isabela roll her eyes. "I was being sarcastic, tontos! Yes it's pa. Who else would it be if Camilo is right next to you, Mirabel?" Ah. That explained the sarcasm. The girls did reconcile their differences long ago... but they still had a sisterly dynamic to where they poked fun at one another often, that would never go away. They'd do it with Luisa too, but the sweet thing was so sensitive, she'd often take things to heart or overthink them- and either end up crying or apologizing. Agustín's gentle giantess.

"Well in my defense he was just Tío Bruno up until you said he was up there with you" Mirabel called back and crossed her arms "Anyway, mom says you can bring him down now" She left to return to la cocina, Camilo attempted to as well, but was immediately booted out by Casita at Julieta's request since they couldn't keep making more things after he over ate them. "I'm on it~" Isabela sing-songed which earned a loud gruff groan from Mirabel in la cocina, and loud smooching noises from Julieta who was now smothering Mirabel with kisses speaking to her between the kisses "you cant smooch always get smooch annoyed with smooch your sister smooch when you smooch know smooch smooch-" a laugh emitted from Mirabel with the double kiss "Moom! That was a double attack you can't do that!" The playful banter and the over-smothering of love from his beautiful bride with their children always brought Agustín such pure joy. The banter went on for a while as Isabela brought Agustín down and into the dining room. Sitting him in a chair, and kissing his cheek sweetly "Stay there papa~" she moved away and he sat there in silence for what seemed like ages. "What's going on everyone? I'm not getting any younger-"

What a way to phrase that.

"Funny you should say that" Luisa's voice chimed and made him jump a bit. Luisa was home?! What upside down backwards day was this, and where could he get more days like this! Though her workload has lessened since Mirabel saved the miracle, she was still ever the over achiever and work horse, so it was still not often he'd see his little -not-so-little- girl unless for meals. "Lulu!" Agustín chirped happily, still not able to see just yet. "Buenos Dias papa" The large Madrigal giggled and leaned down, pecking his cheek too. "Dios I feel so special to have all my girls here in one place and it's not for a meal! It must be my birthday." He said. As a joke. It took several long minutes of everyone being absolutely quiet for him to realize...

"IT IS MY BIRTHDAY!" He shouted, making Luisa jump a bit. Isabela and Mirabel shook their heads and giggled to themselves. That was their papa, he eventually got there without anyone's help. It just... took a little while.

"Ay, Agustín"

Julieta said from the kitchen, finishing up the last decorations to the cake she and the girls worked diligently for all morning. She brought it out and placed it in front of her husband, kissing his cheek softly, then the tip of his nose... then sweetly on his lips... then not so sweetly on his lips. "MOM" Mirabel gagged and Julieta giggled "What, I get to give mí esposo his birthday kisses". The eyebrow shot up over the flower crown and wiggled "That she does" he quickly agreed. Making all three girls groan, and the cackling from Camilo commence. "Can I take the flor crown off yet? While I love it, Isabela, I also love my sight- what little I have left of it." Agustín chuckled warmly.

"Yes papa, you can take it off- right mama?" Isabela made sure that was the plan right now and Julieta nodded "Correct." She smiled as he lifted the crown and lowered it to his lap- his eyes wide to see the cake before him, two large wax candles in the shape of a 4 and a 9 adorned the top of a beautifully decorated two-tier cake. The icing was glossy and slightly marbled with a handsome dark teal color. His eyes began to tear up and he bit his lip trying to stop it from quivering,

"Feliz Cumpliaños, Pa/Papa/Agustín!"

They all said together and hugged him from all sides. Never mind it being Father's day... they always made sure to celebrate his birthday first... and later on in the day fathers day. It always made Agustín feel so special. Dios did he love his girls!

[dragonmuse]

”He doesn’t live in the city, but has a house in a quiet neighborhood (I would say ironically probably in a similar neighborhood to Izzy and Eddy in You’re Awful, I Love You) with his husband Thomas.” So... neighbors AU? :)

(why start a new AU when it's all there already! You’re Awful, I Love You tickles me so. I've got two asks in it, but this one grabbed me by the neck for some reason. As a refresher YA,ILU is the one where Eddy and Izzy get married and live in the burbs. Also because I got this as a comment, yes! The au title is a lyric from the amazing Ludo song ‘Love Me Dead’ which I highly recommend and is a very Eddy/Izzy song.)

Izzy has no idea why Eddy hates the neighbors. They barely share the property line, an easement between their two parcels owned by the town so they could reach the powerlines meant that they technically had no border. And the neighbors had lined their side with tall trees anyway. 

“He’s out there again,” Eddy would say ominous. 

“It’s his fucking yard,” Izzy would roll his eyes. 

It was a nice change, he supposed, to have Eddy being the one carrying a bitter pointless grudge. Usually that was Izzy’s job. Eddy tended to forgive and forget, especially if she’d already taken her pound of flesh. 

“How many times can someone trim the same three rose bushes?” 

“I don’t know, but I’m starting to think I should be worried that you’re keeping count.” 

He set down breakfast in front of her. Her feet were bare, traces of early morning dew soaked dirt around her toes.  She had on tiny shorts, almost entirely hidden by the oversized purple sweater that she wore most mornings, ratty as anything. 

Fucking gorgeous, of course. Izzy considered if it would distract her if he got on his knees right now. 

“It’s obsessive,” she muttered into her bacon. 

“Yeah, okay,” he settled on instead, not liking his odds and not needing that ego bruise. 

Izzy had met the next door neighbors all of once because meeting people was not his job. Eddy met people. Izzy remembered their names, preferences, and criminal backgrounds.  Everyone had a role. 

They were two guys, probably together, both tallish and good looking. One was blond and one was a redhead with a ponytail.  Occasionally,  he saw them headed to their cars in the driveway.  Thomas and Flint. 

The only time they’d met it was because Izzy was taking a box off the truck they'd rented to move in and Thomas had swung by with a half-smile and said, 

“Hello! You must be the new neighbor.” 

“Yeah,” Izzy watched him warily. It was early days of their retirement and Izzy had not even begun to unwind (it could be argued he’d never gotten around to it, but hey it was on the ‘to do’ list these days. Mostly on Lucius’ ‘to do’ list, but that counted for something). 

“Just you?” 

“No, me and my...” There hadn't yet been a word for what he and Eddy were to each other. He hadn’t dared something with any romantic weight, but he certainly wasn’t calling her boss anymore. “Eddy.” 

“Ah,”  Thomas said gently as if he entirely understood, which was fucking annoying. “My husband and I have lived here for a few years. It’s a good neighborhood.” 

“Just need it to be quiet,” Izzy shrugged. 

“It is that. Do you need a hand with that?” 

“No,” Izzy got the box up on one shoulder.  

“Ah,” Thomas watched the move with a twitch of the lips. “I don’t think I caught your name.” 

“Izzy,” he said reluctantly. They weren’t hiding here. 

“Hey, Flint!” Thomas called out and Izzy did his best not to flinch. Even in the short weeks since they’d retired, Izzy had gotten used to the silences. Come to enjoy them.  

The other man, the one Izzy had clocked as soon as he’d stepped out of the car, stood up from the rose bushes. The tiny ponytail which had seemed ridiculous melted from his perception immediately. Even from a hundred feet away, Izzy could feel his gaze like a two-handed shove. 

“Yes?” The man who must be Flint called back with a voice like velvet. 

“This is Izzy! He’s our new neighbor!” 

Eddy pulled up right then, her bike roaring, then silenced with a turn of the key. She dismounted, still in her leathers then, beard thick. Izzy knew from long experience that if one of them showed up like that, then it was a fun eccentricity to people like Thomas and maybe the husband. Two of them though, that was a threat. 

Thomas just smiled even more broadly. “Hello!” 

“Hello,” Eddy set her helmet on the seat, walking up the driveway. 

“I was just introducing me and my husband to Izzy here,” Thomas said genially. “I’m Thomas and he’s...Flint!” 

“What?” Flint looked away from Izzy at last and he sucked in a desperate breath. Fucking hell. 

“Come over here and be a person!” 

“I am a person all the time,” Flint said with a grimace, but he came over. His stride was ground-eating and his hand came up protectively to Thomas' back the second he was close enough. 

“A rude one,” Thomas scolded, then looked back to Eddy and Izzy like they might want to take part in this domestic bickering.  

“Can’t be ruder than Iz,” Eddy offered, always willing to play. She extended her hand, “Eddy. You’ve met Izzy apparently.” 

“Apparently,” Flint said quietly, a thrum underneath that gave Izzy a chill all down his spine. Made him aware he’d been standing there with a box on his shoulder for too long. 

“Going inside,” Izzy said to his feet, not even loud enough for himself to hear and vanished into the house. 

He didn’t know where the box actually went, but he could figure that out later and just set it down by the door. He should go get another one, but instead he lingered by the door and it was with great relief that Eddy came back in not a minute later. 

“Weird guys,” she determined. “You good?” 

“Yuh huh,” he frowned. Had they been weird? 

“C’mon,” she grabbed his forearm. “Let’s make a good first memory here, huh?” 

Who was he to argue? Even if they had already fucked by the front door last week when they got the keys. 

After that, Izzy had mostly just waved at the two vaguely if they waved at him and aside from that, kept to himself. Eddy, who in this new place was bubbling over with meeting people and ferreting out their interesting secrets to share with Izzy like prizes she’d dug up in the yard, didn’t talk to them either. 

That held for years. They weren’t the kind that invited the neighbors over for a meal anyway. And then there were bigger fish to fry. Motherfucking Stede Bonnet. And who knew what the neighbors made of that, all these new people suddenly coming and going from the formerly quiet house?

Then a couple of months ago, Izzy had waved vaguely at Flint, keeping his eyes down, Eddy at his side. 

“I fucking hate that guy,” Eddy said vehemently. 

Izzy’s head whipped up. “What? Why?” 

“He’s just-” she waved emphatically. “Always out there with the fucking roses.” 

“Yeah,” Izzy frowned at her, “you’re out here more than anyone else, so what?” 

“He’s an asshole,” she announced. “Anyway, you sure you want to come in tonight?” 

“Said I would,” he sighed. “We’re almost in the car. What do you think I’m going to do? Do a runner?” 

“Maybe,” she poked him in the ribs and he swatted at her hand. It was distracting. 

It had taken a lot of time to get Izzy into the Revenge and in the end it was Lucius who managed to draw him inside, not Eddy. Something Eddy didn’t know and never would if Izzy had any say in it. Because Lucius had just straight up bribed him rather than bothering with convincing. 

“I’ll get us a hotel room,” he’d licked his lips. “And we can ruin it.”  

They’d done that and Izzy would think about that night whenever Eddy asked if he’d come watch her perform. He loved watching her, as it happened, even if the rest of it was a trial.  

Tonight as he slid into his seat at the bar, Lucius was on him in an instant, 

“Hello, lover,” he purred, so that Izzy would laugh. 

“Hello,” Izzy obliged him. “What am I drinking tonight?”

“I’m feeling kind, so I won’t foist the Swede’s latest disaster on you,” Lucius touched his hand, alighting light as a butterfly. “How about one of my little inventions?” 

“Yeah, all right.” 

The drink was a wicked shade of green and tasted like sour apples with what was probably champagne bubbling through it. 

“This one got a name?” 

“How about the Happy Tart?” Lucius suggested. 

“Naming it after yourself then?” 

“Mean,” Lucius stuck out his tongue at him. “You’ve got your lines going.” 

“What lines?” 

Leaning forward, Lucius poked him in the forehead, “Those lines. Your worry lines.” 

“Not worried,” he denied, then crumbled under Lucius’ disbelieving stare. “It’s an Eddy thing, you don’t want to-” 

“I can deal,” Lucius cut him off. “Come on, you get tense when you’re worried for her, and I like you relaxed. Spill.” 

“She’s gotten into this grudge with the neighbors and I can’t fucking figure it,” he exhaled. “It’s not like her. To just...dislike someone for no reason. Every time, she just carries on about the roses, but you can’t even see them from our property really.” 

“That hot couple next door?” Lucius asked. 

“The-” Izzy paused, recalled and then nodded, “Yeah, okay. Them. Or at least one of them.” 

“Huh. Let me think about it.” 

“Yeah, okay.” 

What was the worst that could come of it?  

Belladonna ruled the stage that night and Izzy gave her his full attention. She seemed normal...as normal as any six foot tall siren with ivy trailed through her hair and leaves painted on her skin could look anyway. 

Too bad she was staying with Stede that night. Though Izzy did get one hell of a midnight kiss that left him with green paint smeared over his mouth and down his neck. He took the mess of it home and climbed into bed alone. 

Lucius arrived the next day, said nothing about the whole thing and got to make good use of Izzy’s pent up energy. It wasn’t until the next morning while Izzy made breakfast that Lucius apparently decided to move into action. 

Which for him was putting on cut-off jeans, a t-shirt with a v so low it was probably a crime and a pair of sunglasses, stalking across the lawn and greeting the neighbors like he fucking lived there. Izzy watched from the kitchen window. He hadn’t known Lucius owned shorts like that and it was doing some things to his brain. 

Flint stood up beside the roses to greet him. And for a flickering second, Izzy watched Lucius take a step back. 

Oh, I’ll fucking kill him, the beast inside Izzy hissed. But then subsided. Because dear Lucius wasn’t cowed for any longer than that, taking back that step and more besides. Coming in close enough to reach out a hand which Flint shook. 

They spoke for only a minute or so, before Lucius waved a little and went down to the end of the driveway to check the mailbox. Which was...weird because he definitely did not get mail here. Then back up the drive with a shit-eating grin on. 

“What was that about?” Izzy asked as Lucius came into the kitchen. 

“I have done my research,” Lucius announced, pushing his sunglasses upwards. “And I have an answer for you.” 

“In a one minute conversation.” Izzy’s eyes dropped to long milky thighs. “Were you baiting a trap?” 

“A little,” Lucius leaned in and gave him a long filthy kiss. “And you can eat the bait later.” 

“So what’d you trap then?” 

“That man,” and...huh...Lucius didn’t sound thrilled with him either. “Radiates dom energy.” 

“Yeah, I know,” Izzy frowned. “I can’t even fucking look at him.” 

“You knew?” 

“I mean you gave me the words for it, but it’s hard to spend all these years doing what Eddy and I do and not notice when someone’s like that,” he shrugged. “But he’s not doing it on purpose. I think it’s just how he is.” 

“Oookay, well then obviously Eddy doesn’t like him.” 

Izzy knit his eyebrows together, “Obvious how?” 

“Do you not look at him every time?” 

“Yeah? It’s not my proudest moment of the day, but it’s that or I get kind of...” he sighed. “You know. It’s embarrassing.” 

“Eddy knows you space out when you’re hot,” Lucius said like it explained everything. 

“Yeah and?” Izzy paused. “Wait.” 

“Uh huh,” Lucius kissed his cheek. “Ding ding, the train has pulled into the station.” 

“Really?” 

“Really,” “Lucius’ arms slid around his waist. 

“Huh.” 

There was a nip at his neck and Izzy was no longer thinking about Flint even a little. “You too?” 

“Mhm,” Lucius pulled him in close. “Only human. Even if I know you’re about as likely to do something about it as I am to get on the roof and pull a superman.” 

It was a really good day after that, but after Lucius left, Izzy found himself stymied. He went into the workshop, but couldn’t start a project. He went to the kitchen, but the idea of making dinner didn’t appeal either. 

In the end, he sat down on the couch and picked listlessly through a book until he heard Eddy’s motorcycle coming. Even then, he didn’t really move, just set the book aside so he could watch her come in the front door. 

He couldn’t help, but admire her. There was probably never going to be a day when he didn’t. She had her hair half up, the rest cascading around her shoulders, messily wind blown. Stede must’ve bought her this outfit. It looked expensive, a shimmer instead of sheen to the lavender top with it’s knot in the front, showing off a tantalizing line of skin above tight black pants.  

“Thought you’d be in the workshop,” Eddy said when she’d hung up her jacket. “Nothing on the lathe today?” 

“Not in the mood,” Izzy said quietly. 

“Yeah?” She glanced up, caught his expression. “You alright there?” 

“Thinking.” 

“Dangerous,” Eddy surmised and walked over to him, dipping down for a kiss. He kissed back, cupping her jaw. It was so smooth to the touch these days and he often found himself running his thumb along the bone of it. “What’s got your gears grinding?” 

“I was thinking...” he sighed. “Fuck this sounds stupid, even in my head.” 

“That’s gonna be good then,” she sat down beside him, resting elbow on the back of the couch, chin in her palm. “Tell me.” 

“I was thinking that I wish it didn’t make me happy that you get jealous,” he admitted, sinking his head back beside her elbow, looking up at her. “Don’t think it says anything good about me.” 

“I’ve been good about it for weeks,” she protested. “Lucius and I even did a whole event together and kept civil tongues in our head. Didn’t he say?” 

“Not Lucius, though, yeah good job on not killing each other, I appreciate it,” he sighed. “I meant the neighbor.” 

“What about him?” Eddy looked away. 

“I didn’t notice. That it was messing with you,” Izzy watched her carefully. “I don’t even know the guy. Don’t really care to.”

“Yeah, you don’t care to know anyone,” she mumbled.

“I care to know you,” he turned his head enough to press his lips to her arm. “Eddy. You know no one else is allowed to touch me the way you do, right?” 

Her hand flexed above him. A knuckle cracked. He stayed as he was. Waited. 

“I hate how jealous you get,” Eddy said at last. “It's impossible sometimes, the way you want me. And so when I...when I get like that, I hate it even more. I’m such a fucking hypocrite. How can you like it?” 

“Cause I want you to own me,” Izzy pointed out. Maybe instead of being distracted that afternoon, he’d been thinking. Turning old rocks around and around in his mind until they tumbled out polished and ready. “And you don’t want anyone to possess you. Not me. Not Bonnet. Not the world. And they don’t, Eddy. They can’t. I can’t. Tried. Didn’t work. Gave up.” 

“Yeah, I know,” her hand dropped at last. Open, not a fist. It ended up on his chest, right over his heart. Her emerald glittered in the light. “Watching you react to someone else like that makes me want to spit acid anyway.” 

“I don’t even look him in the eye.” 

“That’s on purpose?” She frowned. “I thought that was kind of your whole...you don’t make eye contact with me either when you get like that.” 

“Different reasons. If I look at you while I’m like that, it’s too intense too quickly and it’d all end in a second and a half,” he snorted. “I don’t look at him cause I don’t like a stranger rifling through my head. Felt like he knew what I was like the second he saw me. I don’t need more of that in my life. You are more than enough for one man to survive.” 

“Really?” She turned the full force of that gaze on him and met it.

“Yeah, really. What? You think I’m out here trolling for more people to put me in my place?” He set his hand over hers. “I’ve got a demanding job, a house to keep up with, a spouse and a boyfriend to keep happy and satisfied, all with a fifty year old body. I’m spinning enough fucking plates.” 

Her lips curved ever so slightly upward, “Getting tired, Iz? Too old to keep up?” 

“With you?” He shook his head slowly, maintaining eye contact. “There’s no pace you could set that I wouldn’t keep up with.” 

“Sure, I get a boyfriend, you gotta find one, half our age and twice as lively, huh?” 

“It’s not a competition,” Izzy smiled lazily, stretching a little. The hand on his chest exerted pressure, kept him down. “But I think we know who’s winning.” 

“Big words to someone who just admitted he’d come if I gave him too much eye contact.” 

“Well,” Izzy tilted his chest up, “got to put a new tool in your kit for you sometimes.” 

“I don’t need help,” her hand slid up to his shoulder, gripping hard. The nerves there had never healed right and pain rose up to meet her touch. “But I think tonight, I’ll take it.” 

It took Izzy a full three days to recover from that night, and he enjoyed every last second of it. On the fourth morning, he was still riding the high a little as he went out to the workshop. There was a stool he was working on, an improvement over the last one Eddy had claimed for the garden. He was sanding it by hand, enjoying the process. 

She stepped into the room and her usual basket had the shears sticking out and three roses, blood red, were nestled beside them. 

“We have rose bushes now?” He asked distractedly. There was always something new out there and he could have easily missed her planting them. 

“No. Flint offered up a few. They came with the property and he says there a bitch and a half, impossible to keep off the sidewalk. Has to trim them constantly.” 

“Does he now?” Izzy paused in his work. “And when did he say that?” 

“Just now. He was out while I was looking for fallen branches for the fire pit,” she said casually. “Asked him about them. He’s a lawyer apparently. Pfft. You know I feel about lawyers.” 

“I do,” Izzy said solemnly.  

“Anyway, they’re going away next week, so I said we’d keep an eye on the place. Could be good for when we’re not home too, huh?” 

“Yeah.” And it was such a good thing he had long practice with not laughing at all because it was taking a lot of energy not to do it now. 

“I know how you like red,” Eddy swept the flowers up and held them out to him. “Mind the thorns, huh?” 

And she was in the ragged purple sweater, sweating a little and smiling herself. Maybe, maybe, on the cusp of laughing at herself a little. Holding out flowers to him as if this was how they always did things.��

“Like the thorns,” he said, no longer anywhere near laughter as he took them from her. They were pretty things, probably last a few days in water. 

She kissed him, soft and sweet. “Gonna go wash up. Coming with?” 

He’d put them in water later. And then when they started to wither, he might just get a bit of twine, hang them in the corner of the garage to dry out. Maybe keep them there as if he’d forgotten about them, just another thing collecting dust in a garage. Even if they did hang just inside his peripheral vision as he sanded down the rough edges of his small domain.

[ycurkxng-a]

My Enemies Invisible, I Don't Know How To Fight.

Character: Dean King

Warnings: A lot of self hatred in this one lol and suicidal ideation (I don't feel like this bad I just wanted to write Dean going through it)

You're a real sack of shit, y'know that? You hurt the people around you then put on a show of remorse for what you did, but do you really think that changes anything? What the fuck is wrong with you, man?

Please. Please just be quiet.

One of those nights. He'd had at least 8 of these in the past month, and it was only the 12th.

There was no break from the hell that was his mind, and there was a pattern to it. The late hours of the night began to creep its way in, and Dean was left alone with his own thoughts. That alone was a fate worse than death itself, but he kept pushing through, as unfortunate as that was for both himself and those around him.

Dear god, why did he have to live with this? What the fuck did he do to deserve goddamn nightmare?

For Gods sake, he wasn't even in the double digits by the time he started thinking of watching his blood leak out of his body, it only got worse as time passed. It'd been intensified by the insane amounts of trauma he'd been put through, all that anguish, all that hurt, it manifested itself as an enemy within his own head.

Every night it taunted him, it drove him closer and closer to giving into his primal urges and to just stop the gut-wrenching agony that had become simply existing. Tonight was no different than the rest, it made him remember all the bad he'd done, all the people he'd lost, every little thing that he regretted was brought up like a shitty PowerPoint presentation.

You don't need to keep dealing with me, y'know.

Don't fucking start with this again.

I'm just saying, you've already died before, you could handle it one last time and let that be it.

For the love of God, just let me sleep.

Dean already knew there wasn't a chance of him getting any rest, it was pointless to try and argue with it. Pointless to try at all, actually. It was a part of him he was arguing with, he may as well have been playing chess against himself.

He pulled himself out of bed and slid on a shirt that had been lying off to the side, if he was going to be awake for the rest of the night he didn't want to be freezing his tits off.

In his head, he already planned out how the next day would go. Thankfully he had nothing going on, so he could just sleep when his body inevitably shut down on him. It was a way to rest without making it permanent, that was a win for him.

That voice in the back of his head didn't pipe down at all as Dean went to go out of his bedroom. If anything, it grew louder, more aggressive.

YOU CAN ACT LIKE YOUVE GOTTEN BETTER, YOU CAN PRETEND THAT YOUVE CHANGED- BUT YOU AND I BOTH KNOW THAT YOU'LL ALWAYS BE NOTHING MORE THAN THAT SCARED LITTLE BOY. YOU REMEMBER IT, DONT YOU?

THE SCREAMING? THE PAIN? OF COURSE YOU DO. IT MOLDED YOU INTO WHAT YOU ARE. AND YOU HURT PEOPLE BECAUSE OF IT. BUT YOU CAN MAKE IT BETTER.

P I C K U P T H E G U N.

In a hazy moment of weakness, Dean stopped in his tracks and shot his arm straight towards his bedroom doorway. His fist slammed into the warped wood and a burning sensation coursed through his knuckles, this kind of pain was something he'd unfortunately grown accustomed to over what seemed to be a lifetime of fighting. Despite that, it didn't change his visceral reaction to the pain.

A quick step back before he clutched onto his aching limb, his jaw clenched so tight it felt like his teeth would crush underneath the pressure. But through the pain, he noticed something.

...

The silence.

If this were any other situation, he'd be scrambling to fill the air with noise so he could focus on something other than his thoughts, but this wasn't any other situation. That voice had grown quiet.. only after he punched the doorway. The continued burn through his bones seemed to do enough to keep it quiet, as if his pain satiated it.

Dean appreciated the quiet while he had it, and without another thought, he went back to his bed. He'd deal with his most likely broken knuckles in the morning, for now he needed some goddamn sleep. It wasn't like he'd be able to have an opportunity like this again anytime soon.