#sorry if this sounds harsh but my god this fandom is turning into kind of a miserable place

[crossingalaxies]

hot take apparently but to me it’s tiring and boring and frankly a baffling way to approach tv or any other media to engage with fictional characters only to ‘judge’ them. like you can’t just let them make whatever mistakes they’re making or be as flawed and fucked up as they want without judging if they have behaved well enough for whatever standard you hold them up to and how they should correct their behaviour moving forward. are you watching a fictional show or filling up an employee evaluation sheet???

‘this character should have done this’ ‘that character should not have done that’ okay???? who cares. it would be supremely boring, not to mention unrealistic, if fictional characters only behaved in the most adequate perfectly reasonable way possible. so they fucked up? so they fucked up again and again and didn’t learn their lesson the first time? okay??? that’s life???

‘but we didn’t see this character learn from their mistakes and grow’. you ARE seeing it, it’s a process, not something that happens after ONE time they were confronted with their mistakes, especially if said mistakes are tied to one of their cardinal flaws rooted in the very essence of the character itself. it’s so much more interesting and rewarding to me as a viewer, not to mention easier for me to get attached to characters who are complete and utter messes, characters who stumble and fall, even when they should know better, characters who don’t immediately learn from their mistakes, who fail again and again, but keep trying to be better, and still through it all, they are loved, because they are deserving of it no matter what they think.

‘but this conversation should have happened sooner’ okay well it didn’t. people make dumb choices all the time, they act irresponsibly and unreasonably all the time, no matter how mature or level-headed they might be.

‘but this relationship doesn’t feel healthy’ okay here’s the thing: ‘healthy relationship’ has become just another buzzword that tiktok users throw around without understanding at all what it means. ‘healthy relationship’ doesn’t mean two people need to be on the same page about everything, it doesn’t mean mistakes are made once, dealt with and never made again; a healthy relationship isn’t based on 100% compatibility or perfect communication at all times and perfect solutions to every problem. it’s based on mutual respect and love and the willingness to make compromises, and to keep trying to understand each other better and choose each other every day. if there is a failure of communication or a disagreement or an inability to come to a perfect soultion for whatever issue, that in itself doesn’t make a relationship unhealthy. and honestly even if it did, so what? it’s fictional, it adds flavour! (not to mention expecting humans to always be perfectly emotionally healthy is... well not realistic, to say the least).

‘but they should learn to communicate better before they get married’ marriage isn’t some kind of prize that only perfectly functional couples are worthy of, some final achievement for the perfect relationship. relationships are changing and growing all the time, they don’t have to reach a perfect final level of ‘healthy’ before they can be awarded the prize of marriage. relationships keep evolving and couples keep learning more about each other all the time, during marriage just like before. the idea that a relationship is doomed unless it reaches its final form of perfection before marriage is crazy.

and on a final note, HOW do you watch a fictional couple that disagrees on having children work out not necessarily a final solution, but a compromise, with one of them admitting they have issues to deal with and trauma to process, and the other realizing that the kids issue is not a dealbreaker because ultimately what they want most is their partner, and come away thinking ‘well that’s not a very good relationship’?????

[redbirb]

kiri got cake (bakugo birthday special)

Fandom: BNHA | MHA Pairing: BKKR | Bakugo/Kirishima Rated T: SFW w/ undertones of intimacy, Bakusquad Shenanigans / Supportive Bakusquad

-

Eijiro knew his boyfriend didn’t like big parties.

What his boyfriend did like was attention and cake. Ei could give attention tenfold, but baking was a different kind of beast to tame.

“This is a disaster,” he bemoaned. Maybe enlisting his friends for help was a bad idea.

“We can salvage this,” Denki remained positive as he attempted to glue the cake back together with frosting like a deranged dessert doctor.

Mina sighed, taking a selfie and typing sadly on her phone. “Hashtag baking failures with the besties.”

Eijiro groans again, face in his hands. He’s pretty sure there is chocolate in his hair and he’s sitting on a mixing spoon. The kitchen is a war zone of burnt chocolate and fondant.

“Well, since the Battle of Rainbow Sprinkles is done, maybe we should finally call Sato,” suggested Sero.

“It’s too late for that! Katsuki is gonna be home any minute now—”

The sound of the front door opening and closing sealed their doom. Jingling keys and boot stomps got closer until a blonde and tall figure stood in the kitchen entryway. Katsuki looked around in that typical unimpressed fashion of his, noting the mess they’d created.

“What the flying fuck were you four idiots trying to do?”

Denki raised his hands in a ‘don’t hurt me’ gesture. “Uh, making you a birthday cake?”

Eijiro didn’t pick his head up from his hands, he didn’t want to see the disappointment and annoyance on his boyfriend’s face. Silence often predated an outburst.

A harsh bark of laughter startled him, looking up to see Katsuki doubled over, hands on his knees and cackling of all things.

“Oh my god, I think we broke him. We broke your boyfriend on his birthday. Ei baby, I’m so sorry.”

“Shut up, Pinky,” Katsuki wheezed, straightening up with a hand on his belly. “You’re all fucking ridiculous and lucky I’m in a good fucking mood.”

Denki fake gasped, hand clutched over his heart. “Call the local news station because the great hero Dynamight is actually not mad? Why do I feel like I’m going to get hit either way.”

A clearing throat,” You’ll get my fist if you don’t leave with Stooge One and Two. As funny as this is, Ei and I have some cleaning up to do.”

Sero’s eyes widened. “Oh dude, we’ll help! We did like… eighty percent of this anyway.”

Hitching a thumb over his shoulder, Katsuki repeated his order. Eijiro glumly watched his friends wave a sad goodbye, leaving him to deal with the aftermath alone. He was half-surprised his friends got away freely, but was ready to take whatever punishment he’d earned for the disastrous state of the kitchen.

After hearing the front door closing again, Katsuki leveled him with a scorching stare. Goosebumps pebbled along his arms, a familiar heat bubbling.

“I’m sorry,” he hurriedly says,” I thought I could do it, I just couldn’t get the batter right at first—”

He was interrupted when Katsuki stepped close and slowly reached into a red mane of hair. “Is that a chocolate chip in your hair? You really are hopeless in the kitchen, huh?”

Ei pouted and threw up his arms, exasperated. “I wanted to make you a special birthday cake!”

A snort, fingers carefully getting as much dessert debris from red hair as could be managed without the use of hot water or a shower. “I don’t need a special birthday cake. I already have a special someone.”

Heart swelling, Eijiro lost his pout to a smile. “I want you to feel special. I really love you.”

Katsuki clucked his tongue, but his lips were smiling too, even if he looked a little embarrassed and shy at the declaration. “I love you too. But you didn’t need to make a fucking mess.”

Although the baking was a failure, cleaning up was still a little fun. They took a break to eat some leftover chocolate chips, turned on the radio to hum together as Eijiro swept the floor and Katsuki wiped the counter. It’s their brand of quiet and comfortable, that sweet kind of domesticity that Eijiro has come to love so dearly.

As they’re finishing up the dishes, Katsuki reaches over to place the last plate in the dishwasher. It’s the perfect vantage point for Eijiro to swoop in, lips pressing firmly against an unprotected cheek. The kiss is quick yet meaningful, he’d poured as much affection into it as he could.

“Even after all these years, you still manage to surprise me, Ei.” Katsuki looks at him fondly. “I know you wanted to do something nice, but I like this, I like having you.”

A sappy comeback couldn’t make it out of Eijiro’s mouth since a strong hand pushed him to turn around. That same hand moves quickly, a yelp resulting from a hard slap to his ass. Katsuki’s lips are at his ear,” Now get my cake to the bedroom. I have four hours before the day ends.”

[finn-writes-stuff]

Could I request angst for Heisenberg with an reader that bottles up their emotions of feeling unwanted or a bother to him, even though they try to be helpful, they feeling a bit clingy and annoying and it eats at them and instead of making a wise ass comment back, maybe something Karl says or yells just breaks them? Hurt comfort please? Need my feels 😔

Angst is very satisfying to write sometimes

Karl Heisenberg x Reader

Fandom: Resident Evil Village

Format: Headcanons

Warnings: Heisenberg being kind of shitty, yelling at the reader when they've done nothing wrong.

Gender-Neutral Reader

RE8 Masterlist

Commission Info

Perhaps this man doesn't have the most emotional intelligence

.....Or any at all

In all fairness, none of the people in this game really do.

But between his own self loathing and the fact he can't believe you'd actually enjoy his company, he isn't the most in tune to how you act and feel around him.

He recognises that you help him, and that you're around him a lot.

He appreciates it, but god knows he cant admit it. The would be a level of vulnerability he would rather die than possess.

But Karl doesn't recognise the fact that you don't feel wanted because of this. Or that you're bottling everything up.

It all comes to head at the end of a very stressful day. Karl was back from a meeting with Miranda and the other lords. The factory felt too scared to even creak under his feet, feeling the harsh tension around him.

You were just trying to help, offering him something to drink, someone to vent to if he needed to, letting him know you were there.

And he snapped at you, telling you in no uncertain terms to fuck off, that he didn't need you on his back all the time.

You didn't snap back.

Karl was always crass and a little mean. You had to roll with it to interact with him at any point. You usually gave as good as you got.

But all you did was try to help. And he made it very clear that he didn't want it. Didn't want you.

All you did was square your shoulders and turn away, going back to your room, hoping he wouldn't notice the shake in your shoulders as you bit back a sob.

He didn't follow you, but once you were in your room, you could hear him swear, and the familiar sound of him smacking a table.

Ten minutes later there was a knock on your door.

"You in there, doll? I...I'm really fucking sorry, I shouldn't have said that shit."

His voice was just loud enough to be clear through the door, quieter than usual. Gentler maybe.

"I wasn't upset with you, I didn't mean what I said to you, and I shouldn't have yelled at you. I just. Fuck, this is hard. I'm sorry. I'll uh, be in my workshop if you need me. There's, um, a drink for you outside your door if you want it."

He doesn't really apologise to anyone but you, so he's doing his best here.

If you seek him out that night or the next day, he'll keep fumbling through an apology and cautiously offer a hug. He's not great at comforting people but he feels really bad about hurting you and he doesn't like seeing you upset.

He'll leave small gifts outside your door for a few days, even if you've already forgiven him.

[m-y-fandoms]

COMMISSION: Joker/Akira/Ren x Reader Part 1

Thank you to the client for commissioning me! This is gonna be a long one! I love Joker and Persona 5 is my second favorite fandom after Danganronpa! Exctied to be working on this.

Around 2.6k words, SFW, SLOW BURN romance friends to lovers, gender neutral reader, anyone can enjoy it and place themselves as the reader! - Admin Myah

Shujin Academy could be silent as the grave in the earliest hours of the morning, and yet seem so deafening. It was almost guaranteed that at least thirty new rumors were spreading throughout the student body at any given time, and the overwhelmingly hostile environment that created made the air heavy. With all the teenage angst, hormones, hatred, circles of venomous malice, it was no wonder so many loners could be spotted on academy grounds. That’s just how it was at Shujin: you either had a clique, or you had no one. It was no surprise, then, that you simply kept your head down, minded your business, and got to know no one. Miraculously, though, gossip abound about you still, at least two or three preposterous examples of hearsay and stories. But hey, what could you do? That was in all actuality, pretty low for a single Shujin student. God help the students who actually did make their opinions known, express themselves through clothing and cosmetics, and dared to swim against the current.

You shuffled through the first floor, the absolute blandness of that April morning perpetuating your usual routine: arrive at Shujin, check your locker, scribble down any notes and ideas that came to you in your dreams last night to put into your next short story, and of course check for new posts in the group chat, where your only friends resided. You wouldn’t be caught dead associating with anyone here at the school, it would simply be mental and social suicide, and quite frankly, you didn’t have the constitution for that.

Peeking up for a split second to avoid any collisions, you quickly slid to the left and ducked into a nearby alcove, successfully escaping the gaze of the oncoming wall of muscle and testosterone that was Coach Kamoshida, the plague of Shujin Academy. It was the best case scenario that Kamoshida remained ignorant to one’s very existence, for even those on his good side suffered the consequences. He strode by, shoulders wide and chest puffed out, scanning the halls for girls to harass or boys to intimidate, and once the coast was clear and he was a safe distance away, his back facing you, you dipped back out of the rather dusty corridor and back into the light, immediately slipping back into an almost mechanical daily ritual. It took mere seconds: phone screen unlocked, group chat opened, notebook slipped snuggly back under armpit.

“C’mon, man!” An obnoxiously loud voice rang out above the typical tinnitus-like buzz of the hallway, and suddenly your shoulder was thrust forward, body flying to the ground with a forceful shove on the shoulder.

“Aaagh!” Your voice cracked as your knees buckled and you collided roughly with the wooden panels below, your smartphone soaring out of your grip and clinking against the floor. Thank goodness your notebook was safe, at the very least. People gasped and turned to look at the spectacle, including Kamoshida himself, who’d just reached the end of the hall.

“Sakamoto! I see you running in the halls again, I’ll write you up!” He just always had to say something, let the general student body know he was in charge. He cared far more about sounding rough and tough than making sure the student who was just steam-rolled was uninjured. He pointed directly at you and the student that had just dashed by, effectively pummeling you to the ground with a shoulder check. You looked up and just ahead of you, Ryuji Sakamoto was pivoting on one foot, ignoring Kamoshida’s threat entirely to catch his breath and look down at his victim, splayed across the floor.

Ryuji Sakamoto, now that was one of those students mentioned earlier, the kind that dyed his hair, customized his uniform, and didn’t take shit from anyone. He was a pariah, pretty much the opposite of the teacher’s pet… teacher’s pest more like. Sakamoto was the subject of many falsehoods and conjectures, and he was sure to be trouble for anyone associated…

You looked him up and down, halting your unflattering and socially-altered thoughts in their tracks. Didn’t wanna become the very thing you hated. There was no reason to judge Ryuji without first-hand proof.

“Woah! My bad, sorry dude!” He held up one hand submissively, but unfortunately, just as with Kamoshida,  it seemed that you were not his main concern either. Huffing and puffing from the sprint, he looked past you to another male student who was hot on his trail, but this one looked… different.

You’d gone to Shujin Academy for all of your high-school career. It was your third and final year before graduation, and you knew of Sakamoto well enough, but this kid was a mystery… was he new here? He must’ve been. You knew at least the face of every student here in some way or another just through Shujin’s own little eternal game of telephone, and not by any choice of your own. You actively removed yourself from the local goings-on. Was it his first day here, you wondered. Why hadn’t you heard gossip about him yet, especially looking the way he did?

Beauty was a curse - much like any other feature that stood out - at Shujin Academy. If you were too pretty or handsome, you must be sexually promiscuous. On the other hand, if you were too ugly, too nerdy, too quiet, you probably picked your nose and read hentai on the train. There was no winning in this soul-crushing wasteland. Unfortunately for this new-comer, he was outrageously gorgeous.

“Gah, sorry about that…” he sighed, slowing his pace as he passed you by, plucking your phone up from the ground and offering you his hand. You took it and stood with his help. A quick tug and you were to your feet, dusting off your uniform and thanking him for his assistance. “Yeah, no problem… Ryuji’s just… a bit eager I suppose” he chuckled. “Luckily, no cracks!” He turned your phone around in his hand before placing it back into yours.

“Isn’t that the transfer student??? I heard he nearly killed a man!” One random NPC-esque shithead whispered from behind.

“Oh God, figures that freak would gravitate to the new freak…” another responded.

Ah…  and there it was. Why did fate hate you so much that it chose you as Sakamoto’s door mat on this day? You truly must have been fortune’s fool.

“Yeah, good thing…” You eyed the boy before you, taking in what you could of the new student before the short exchange was over, from his face to the delicate yet thick veins protruding from his lithe hands.

He was tall and thin, and would even be considered lanky if not for the lean muscle that lined his frame. He seemed to be better off than the average teen, sporting almost no blemishes or imperfections on his smooth skin. A black, messy mop of hair that looked soft to the touch sat upon his head, falling into his eyes and over the dark frames of his distinct spectacles. These spectacles did nothing to hide the true elegance that gleamed in the eyes behind them. They were a muted, soft grey that was beautifully simple and clean. His uniform was neat and tidy - as opposed to his blonde and brash acquaintance’s - with his pristine white turtleneck gently blanketing a quite prominent Adam’s apple and his school jacket buttoned and ironed perfectly. Lower down, his plaid slacks concealed thighs that strained against the fabric and long legs that ran down into some very - yet again - flawless dress shoes. Yep, that was a brand new uniform, sure enough.

And a brand new student… he just might make a good subject, a new inspiration for your writing, an aura unmarred by the stain this place put on one’s soul. Your opinion of him was fresh, it was new, unaltered, unbiased, and he really was quite beautiful… your mind played with the thought.

“Ah… sorry about this,” he spoke, taking in the whispers all around you, “I probably just ruined your reputation, what with being seen with me an’ all,” he sighed and laughed breathily, a hint of exhaustion in his voice. He must’ve been keen to the ways of Shujin already, which was super sad in its own right. “I’m Akira by the way,” he held out a hand, and you shook it hesitantly.

“Eh, doesn’t really bother me. It’s (Y/N), nice to meet you. Sorry you’re feeling the Shujin warm welcome.” That first part was only partly true, but the last half was genuine.

“Anyway…” his voice shook you back out of your contemplative reverie, and you came back to reality to find him also looking you over. Oh right… you were new to him as well… “I gotta go, Ryuji is kind of impatient, I’ve found.”

“Hey! Am not!” Ryuji retorted, brows furrowing before he ran off. Akira’s eyes rolled playfully, before he smiled, waved, and sped off.

You nodded, and quickly pulled out your phone, rushing to the glass doors leading to the courtyard. Anything to get out of the spotlight and harsh crowd of stares, plus, you had a sparkling new idea filling up your cranium, and artistic inspiration could not be wasted. Finding one of the benches placed for student recreation, you set down your school bag and impatiently scrambled for your favorite pen, throwing open your notebook.

“Oh, shoot!” You’d gotten ahead of yourself in all the excitement. Placing the moleskin down, you picked up your phone, hands trembling just a bit, and messaged you friends before anything else. They just had to hear about this.

 ＊

 (Y/N) 9:55 am: Guys guys guys!!!

 Itsuki 9:56 am: What do you want?

 Rin 9:56 am: ???

 Megumi 9:57 am: Shouldn’t you be in class?

 (Y/N) 9:57 am: Shut up I have a free period just listen

You know how I’ve been having writer’s block?

 Rin 9:58 am: Ya

 (Y/N) 9:58 am: Well I just met this new kid, and ideas just started FLOWING.

 Itsuki 9:59 am: Yeah

 Megumi 9:59 am: Yeah we remember nerd

Oh that’s great!

Wait what do you mean?

New kid?

Only we can have you 😭 Don’ go switching up on us. Shujin is

toxic anyway.

 (Y/N) 10:01 am: No no no It’s not like we’re friends, I just met him is all

You know you’re my one and only bby 😘

 Itsuki 10:01 am: New kid???

 Megumi 10:01 am: 😎

 Itsuki 10:02 am: Gross

Also what about me!!!!

 Rin 10:02 am: Me too 😡😡😡

 (Y/N) 10:03 am: You two know you’re included in that???? 🤔🙄

Anyway just listen

I think he may be good inspo for my main character!!!

I was stuck looking for a unique look or face claim or something

But he seems nice enough and he’s good looking!

 Itsuki 10:05 am: You got a crush? Awww I’m telling 😏😏😏😏

 (Y/N) 10:05 am: I swear it’s like we haven’t been friends for years…

You know me, PLEASE don’t be gross

Writing purposes ONLY

 Megumi 10:06 am: I thought you were stuck on the CONTENT, not characters and shit

 (Y/N) 10:06 am: Both!!!! But he’s perfect for the look of my protag

 Itsuki 10:06 am: 😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

 Megumi 10:07 am: Well I’m happy for you

STOP

 Itsuki 10:07 am: 😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

 Rin 10:07 am: 😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

 (Y/N) 10:08 am: I can see this conversation isn’t going to be productive 

LMAO you’re assholes

＊

 You tucked your phone into your pocket and once again picked up your notebook. Scrawling down some of the details you knew about Akria: his looks, the sound of his voice, the way he carried himself, you quickly became aware that you knew far too little… or rather

 You wanted to know more.

 Standing, you packed your things and set out to find him again…

 Not in the creepy way! You thought to yourself, trying to justify this uncharacteristic choice of yours to actually reach out to someone in real life, to maybe… try to make… friends? You stood there, brows furrowed and a small frown on your face, pondering your options.

“Oh well, all artists must suffer for their work!” You resolved a little too promptly to try to force another encounter with the new kid. He seemed to be special, unique. He seemed to be well aware of the social hierarchy of Shujin, and have a distaste of it at least. Maybe he wouldn’t be… so bad?

Making up your mind, you spent your free period not writing of romance and rebellious characters, but searching for that fluffy-headed newfound hero to your story, however ghoulish and greasy that made you appear. You truly were becoming that “reads-hentai-on-the-train” and stalks cute boys freak your peers thought people like you were, weren’t you?

To your surprise (though maybe it shouldn’t have been surprising with the volume of Sakamoto’s voice) you soon found the gaggle of second-years, model-status beauty Ann Takamaki now added to their number, standing next to the stairs on the third floor, looking quite conspicuous to boot. Noting the suspicious air around the three, you pulled back, hiding behind the corner leading down the next hall. They seemed on edge... maybe now wasn’t the best time to make friends…?

You felt something thump in your chest. Your shoulders sank subconsciously. It felt a little disappointing, disheartening in a way you couldn’t explain. It was a bit intimidating: Ryuji the loudmouth with a temper, the hottest girl in the school, and the cute new kid. You sighed, this was why you never tried to make friends in the first place. Why had you even gotten your hopes up?

These irrational feelings of self-doubt clouded your heart, your head knowing better of course. It was hard to fight thoughts like these, especially for someone like you. On the precipice of making up your mind, deciding to give up and scrap the new novel idea altogether, you were jolted to attention by the sound of shoes scuffling and scrambling up the stairs.

Students aren’t really allowed on the rooftop during school hours unless accompanied by a teacher or given express permission, your thoughts swarmed. Maybe they didn’t know? No, there’s no way. There’s a possibility Akira didn’t know, but Ann and Ryuji had been here for two years... What were they up to?

Your nosiness was regrettably getting the better of you, and you slithered over, careful to pad your steps and tread softly. You didn’t even know what you’d do once you’d cornered the trio on the roof, didn’t know what you’d say. What was there to say? You were never too good with words, that is those not written on paper. Your heart beating out of your chest, you climbed the narrow stairwell and threw open the doors to the roof.

“Huh?” You looked around, dumbfounded. “Hello?” The rooftop area was not that large, all parts of it visible from the door.

There was no one to be found.

“What the hell?” You step forward, thinking you must have been the subject of some prank, but no, upon looking around, all three students were gone without a trace. No school bags, no lunch boxes, no uniform pieces, nothing. Akira, Ryuji, and Ann, all vanished into thin air. There were no hiding spots, none big enough for three people at least. It was dead silent, and only the door you currently guarded provided an exit off of the roof. Your mind wanted to wander to darker places, but if they’d have jumped, there surely would’ve been a commotion either during or shortly after. Frantically, you looked around, feeling like you were going crazy.

“What the fuck?” You pressed the palm of one hand to your forehead, sitting on the ground and crossing your legs.

[wingsonghalo]

The Thought that Counts: a HanaNene Fanfic

HELLO EVERYBODY HOW ARE YOU ON THIS CHRISTMAS EVE??? I JUST GOT ENGAGED TO MY BOYFRIEND OF OVER 8 YEARS!!!

Ahem but anyway. I’ve finally brought you all another HanaNene fic. Sorry it took me so long, but I’m glad I made it before Christmas!!

Title: The Thought that Counts Fandom: Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun/Toilet-Bound Hanako-kun Pairing: HanaNene Rating: T (very mild language; mostly rated for source material) Wordcount: 6,281 Summary:  Nene really was going to tell him. Honest. She just... hadn't found the time to do it yet. She had to wait for the right time. 

The time to tell him that she had been reading everyone's mind for the past week simply hadn't come yet.

Nene gets hit with a supernatural's attack, and suddenly gains the power to read minds. (Also, it's Christmas.) Also available on: Ao3 Support me on: Patreon | Ko-fi

Now then!! This fic is dedicated to several very important individuals. 

For @chibitakoyaki, who was my compass when I was lost at sea. For @daikonsenpai, who was the stars that guided me to where I belong. For @anubis-005, who is the sunlight that this withered growing thing craves. And for my HanaNene Discord Server, who are everything to a nothing like me. Special thanks also to @hananohanabira , without whom this story never would have began, and to @kittykatz009, without whom it never would have been finished.

Without further ado!

=============================================================

The Thought that Counts

Nene really was going to tell him. Honest. She just... hadn't found the time to do it yet. She had to wait for the right time.

The time to tell him that she had been reading everyone's mind for the past week simply hadn't come yet.

It had all started on Wednesday. Nene had gotten hit with a rogue attack from some supernatural that Nene couldn't recall the name of—some kind of monkey monster—and though Hanako and Kou had both shouted out in alarm and rushed to her side, she had passed out before anything else could happen, her shoulder hitting the ground heavily and her eyes fluttering closed to the sight of her two friends' worried faces.

The next thing she knew, she was squinting in the harsh fluorescent light of the nurse's office.

"Nngh..." she moaned, sitting up and rubbing at one eye. "Hanako-kun? Kou-kun...?"

"Senpai?" Kou sounded frantic, and Nene heard a clatter as he sprang from his chair and over to her bedside. "Thank goodness...! You were out for like a whole hour!"

Hanako had soon joined their young exorcist friend, placing one of his frigid hands on Nene's forehead. "Warm... but not too warm," he muttered to himself, and then softer as he turned away: "Thank god you're all right. If something happened to you, I don't think I could go on."

Nene's jaw dropped. "Huh?!" Perhaps she was still sleeping? That seemed like the kind of thing only Dream Hanako would say. She did still feel rather dizzy.

The ghost boy looked puzzled as his gaze returned to her. "What is she saying 'huh' to?"

"What you just said!" she answered, a little exasperated at having to explain.

Hanako exchanged a confused glance with Kou, like Nene had hit her head and suddenly started speaking in French.

"What's she talking about?" Kou asked quietly, but there was something strange about the words:

His mouth hadn't moved while he said them.

"Yashiro," said Hanako's voice, and when she moved her eyes back over to him, he looked worried again. "I haven't said anything since you woke up."

Nene couldn't do anything but stare.

It had been quiet, true, but she was sure she'd heard him say those things...

"I should have been faster; I could have stopped her from getting hit," Kou's voice said in a whisper, and then, at regular volume, "I-It's okay, senpai... I think you just need to lay down a little longer."

"No, I'm all right," she said hastily, her mind swirling with questions as she gingerly climbed out of the bed. "I... I should be getting home. It's probably late."

"Ah, if only I could keep her here all night," said Hanako, but when her head whipped around to face him, she saw that his mouth hadn't moved either. "Yes, it has gotten quite late," he said then in a normal tone, the words emerging normally with the movements of his jaw. "Be careful going home, won't you?" Glancing at Kou, he raised his eyebrows. "You'll walk home with her?" he prompted, and without forming the words, added: "Loathe as I am to encourage him to spend time with her alone..."

Nene held both of her hands over her temples, feeling like she was about to keel over again. What was happening?! When had her friends gotten so good at ventriloquy?!

“I’ll protect senpai with my life!” Kou declared, bringing a hand to his chest resolutely.  

“I’m sure it won’t come to that,” Hanako remarked with a wry smile, but when he added “You’d better” in an undertone, his mouth didn’t move.

*** It didn’t take long for Nene to understand what was happening: She was accidentally reading the minds of everyone within about a 3-meter radius of her. She had already inadvertently heard Kou calling her cute 5 times (that had just been on their walk home last night), what she was getting for Christmas from her parents (a new hamster-themed stationery set), and the correct answers to all of the questions teachers asked her in class. She had also heard a lot of inconsequential thoughts that meant nothing to her: worries about strangers’ crushes, dissatisfaction with the lunch someone’s mother had packed, remarks about the chilly weather. Many people didn’t even think in perfectly-constructed sentences, but rather with a few phrases accompanied with a vague mental picture or feeling. People’s thoughts were so loud and distracting that it was rather hard to properly focus on anything, and all the half-formed images and emotions seeping into her like water into an unwilling sponge left Nene feeling wrung-out and overwhelmed.

By the end of her first school day as a mind-reader, Nene was more than ready to get rid of her sudden superpower.

So it was with all haste that she made her way to the third-floor girls’ bathroom in the old building after the final bell rang that day.

“Hanako-kun!” she announced her presence as she ran headlong at the door and pushed it open forcefully.

She sounds upset, said a quiet voice that Nene now realized was Hanako’s thoughts. Ah, and her hair is untidy today—she must have been clutching her head at some point like she always does when she’s frustrated. “Yashiro,” was all he said out loud, though, hoisting himself off his windowsill and floating over to her. “I’m flattered that you wanted to see me immediately, but as a protector of this school, I can’t condone running in the halls.”

Still panting from her breakneck pace over here, Nene just glared at him as she braced her hands on her thighs to catch her breath. “I have a problem,” she declared when she could talk again, standing straight and running her hands over her hair self-consciously.

“It’s big of you to admit it,” said Hanako with a wide smile, “but which one are we talking about?”

But Nene couldn’t respond to his childish quips, because she was too busy staring at him in awe after hearing Hanako’s thoughts say Geez, even when she’s disheveled like this, she’s beautiful.

She gaped at him, blinking and wondering whether she had misheard. Since when did Hanako think she was beautiful? The only thing he’d ever said about her appearance was that she had super fat ankles!

“Uh, Yashiro?” Hanako was waving his semitransparent hand in front of her face. “Hello? Anyone in there?” Was I too harsh with my teasing? he wondered internally.

“S-Sorry,” she finally managed to sputter, “I just, um...” Her words died away again as their eyes met.

Red, whispered Hanako’s thoughts. Her eyes are as red as holly berries. “What are you looking at, you weirdo?” he chuckled out loud, ruffling her hair with one hand.

“Cut it out!” she protested as she shoved his hand away, her cheeks turning as red as holly berries, too. Her heart rate, elevated from rushing to Hanako’s bathroom, was refusing to slow, and her belly suddenly had a swarm of butterflies trapped within it. Her mind, which had been set on one single goal since she arrived at school today, was now swirling with this new information that did not match everything she had thought she knew. Yesterday… yesterday, Hanako had thought something quite emotional too, hadn’t he?… She’d been so disoriented that she’d nearly written it off as wishful thinking.

Not that she was wishing for him to think such things about her! Just… it might be nice to know that he  thought of her as more than just a bumbling assistant with daikon legs, that was all.

“It… it’s about that supernatural we fought yesterday,” Nene got out at last.

“Ah, yes, I should have asked: How are you feeling today?” His big gold eyes dropped down to the floor as he tapped his fingertips together. “I’m… sorry you ended up being hit by its attack.” Not much scares me, but that did, his thoughts added. Please don’t make me lose you before I have to.

Nene’s breath caught in her throat. What did that last statement mean? And furthermore, how had he managed to hide all these intense emotions under such a playful facade? Like bolts of lightning, hazy images flashed through her mind: Nene being hit with the creature’s attack. Nene falling lifelessly to the floor like a marionette with cut strings. Nene being held in someone’s arms as they took her to the infirmary. A hand in a black sleeve tenderly brushing her hair away from her face. And all the while, feelings of fear, panic, anger, self-loathing, anxiousness, affection sparked inside her with each image.

It was more than she had ever known about Hanako’s feelings before. It was all the things her friend would never tell her on his own. Through Hanako’s eyes, Nene had been beautiful, vulnerable, someone worth protecting.

Someone… precious to him.

Suddenly realizing that she hadn’t answered him in over five seconds and had instead been holding a hand over her mouth as she tried not to let her eyes fill with emotional tears, she blinked rapidly and forced the words through her lips. “I’m feeling fine,” she said, struggling to keep her voice even. “I just, uh…” Frantically, she cast about for a suitable lie. “I wanted to complain to someone about how many guys have already asked Aoi out for Christmas!” she invented, crossing her arms. “I mean, geez, isn’t making Christmas your first date a lot of pressure, anyway? Who do these guys think they are?” Luckily, she didn’t need to force the frustration in her tone—it was plenty real.

“That’s your big problem?” Hanako sighed, shaking his head, but what he thought was Thank goodness—I thought that satori had left her with some lasting damage or something.

A satori, was it? Nene tucked that away in her mind for future reference. “Hey, it’s a big deal to me!” she insisted with a pout. “I mean, no one’s ever asked me out, for Christmas or otherwise…”

Nobody here is good enough for you anyway, said Hanako’s thoughts. “I guess nobody here had daikon on their Christmas list,” said Hanako’s mouth.

Nene headbutted him.

“Can you stop pretending to be a jerk for like, one day?!” she demanded, balling her hands into fists as Hanako groaned and got back to his feet after having been sent sprawling to the ground.

“Owww, what do you mean, pretending?” he questioned, rubbing his forehead. “I’m a genuine authentic jerk, thank you very much.” Why am I still so attracted to her after she does that? he thought.

She shook her head, shoving down the butterflies that fluttered in her belly at that. “No you aren’t,” she said firmly. “I know that deep down, you feel just as much as everybody else! And I know that you…” Here she faltered, unsure of how to put this into words. “Y-You’ve got a soft spot for me!” she decided on, pointing at him accusingly.

“Wh—Wha...” Hanako looked like someone had slapped him in the face, his eyes wide and mouth slack. It’s a bit of an understatement, but I can’t exactly deny that, his mind commented.

Nene felt her cheeks heat up even further. “S-So don’t go calling me a daikon all the time!” she finished. “It won’t fool me into thinking you don’t care!” Her words sounded a bit hollow now, her indignation steadily dying with every sentimental thought she heard.

The ghost boy’s face was reddening as well, so he turned away slightly to hide it. “All right, geez, I’ll lay off with the radish remarks.” At least she seems lively enough, after that attack she took…

Well now she just felt sort of bad for getting so mad at him. But seriously, if she’d found his needling frustrating before, hearing how drastically the jokes contrasted with what he was really thinking was especially frustrating! “Thank you,” she said, aiming for a haughty tone but instead sounding a bit meek.

“So okay, you wanted to complain?” Hanako spread his arms as if waiting to be struck by arrows. “Complain away. As the leader of the Seven Wonders, I of course have time to be listening to a teenage girl’s relationship woes.” She hasn’t talked about that Minamoto jerk in ages… is she finally over him? Wait, no, I shouldn’t be happy about that.

As her heart raced wildly, Nene decided she would let his sarcastic outward tone slide. “I um…” Maybe she could lead the conversation in a direction that would yield more information? “Yeah, there’s someone I’ve been hoping would ask me out, lately.” It wasn’t untrue. She just left out the little tidbit that the person in question was the boy standing in front of her, whose face had just soured into a petulant frown.

“Oh really?” he drawled, raising an eyebrow. Who is he? I’ll haunt him.

A snort of laughter nearly escaped her, but Nene covered her mouth in time to hide her amused smile. “Yes… he’s someone I didn’t really notice at first, but who has become a big presence in my life.”

Please tell me she’s not mooning over the Kid or the jerk in the glasses. “I see...”

Leaning against one of the sinks, Nene blew out a sigh. “But I don’t think he’ll ask me. He has a hard time expressing his feelings, and he also makes fun of me a lot.” She shuffled her feet a little. “He makes fun of my ankles,” she added, glancing at Hanako out of the corner of her eye to gauge his reaction. Was she being too obvious with her description?

Evidently she wasn’t, because Hanako had the same stern frown on his face, and the only thought running through his head was Why would she be interested in someone who makes fun of her?! “Sounds like a real winner.” When his eyes flicked down to Nene’s feet for a moment, though, there was a mixture of emotions pulsing from him in that single instant: adoration longing excitement embarrassment.

Nene wasn’t sure what to make of that. Had he really felt all that from looking at her ankles?! Or was it mere coincidence that his eyes had been looking in that general direction?

“Hey, Hanako-kun,” she switched gears, suddenly desperate to know: “Do you… think I’m attractive?”

Even without mind-reading, the panic on Hanako’s face was plain as day. His head whipped to the side to hide it, and he ran a hand through the hair at the back of his head, but Nene still glimpsed the tips of his red ears. “Uh…” What am I supposed to say to that?! If I deny it, she’ll be upset, but if I say honestly that she’s the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, I’ll look like an idiot!

“Oh,” the soft exclamation emerged past her lips without thought as she brought a hand to her mouth, her eyes quickly moistening again. The prettiest girl he’d ever seen? Was she really?! Was this some kind of horrible prank?!

Perhaps she would… keep her newfound abilities a secret for just a little while longer.

The small sound she had made was enough to draw his attention again, and when the ghost boy saw her face, his eyebrows flew up in dismay. Great, now I took too long to respond and hurt her again! “N-No, wait, I was just surprised!” he blurted, waving his hands around. “You’re attractive! I-In a way!” Every way, his thoughts supplied.

Nene had heard more than enough. Overcome with affection, she threw her arms around his shoulders and squeezed his frigid body. “Thank you,” she murmured.

“Wow, you set your bar that low?” said Hanako’s voice. Llaksfl;kekjg, said Hanako’s mind. Either way, though, his arms had come up to hold her in return.

She gave him one more squeeze, and then held him out at arm’s length by the shoulders, grinning widely at him. “Sometimes you know just what to say, Hanako-kun.” Or think, as it were.

I would destroy worlds for that smile. You are my compass when I am lost at sea. The stars that guide me to where I belong. The sunlight that every withered growing thing craves. You are everything, to a nothing like me. “Eh,” said Hanako with a shrug. “It’s a talent of mine.”

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

Hanako had a sneaking suspicion that something had changed about Yashiro lately.

She often exhibited strange or amusing behaviors, but ever since last week, the anomalies had increased exponentially.

For one thing, she had used to be amazingly easy to sneak up on and startle. He didn’t even need to hide his presence much—just spring out from around a corner or from behind her and say Boo! For a girl who could see ghosts, she had a remarkable talent for not seeing him.

But now, for the past few days, whenever he tried to sneak up on her, she always turned in his direction moments before he was about to spook her. Someone as oblivious and jumpy as Yashiro didn’t just suddenly develop super ghost-detecting senses. Something was definitely going on here.

With that in mind, he’d started watching her throughout the day, trying to stay at a distance where she wouldn’t notice him, being as low-key and inconspicuous as possible…

It only took her until second period to look straight into his eyes and hiss, “Hanako-kun, stop possessing Arai-kun!”

How in the world had she figured out he was possessing the guy?! He’d completely nailed all of this student’s typical behaviors and mannerisms!

She was also having unusual reactions to things he was saying. He’d said something to the effect of “What’s with the hair ropes?” two days ago on Monday—because it flustered him when Yashiro suddenly changed up her hairstyle and the cute braids had totally taken him off-guard—but instead of being offended, Yashiro had just giggled and said something about wanting to keep things interesting, a bit of color in her cheeks. And just yesterday, when she had been about to leave for the day to go home… When he’d said good-bye, his heart sinking because he hadn’t wanted her to go just yet, she had paused at the door and suddenly decided she would stay a little longer.

It was all highly suspicious.

And so Hanako wracked his brain for everything he knew that had been notable about the last 5 school days or so.

It was almost Christmas… could Yashiro simply be in a good mood because of the holiday season? But even if that were the case, it wouldn’t explain how easily she could sense him now. There was a boy she wanted to ask her out, but that didn’t seem to be related, either. And besides that—

“Hanako-kun?” Hanako whirled around on the desk he was sitting on to see the girl herself sticking her head into the empty classroom he’d been hanging around in. “What are you doing here?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but then paused. “Wait a minute… I could ask you the same,” he noted.

Nodding as if to acknowledge his point, she stepped a little further into the room, lifting up a stack of papers . “I’m taking these to the office for my teacher.”

Oh. Well, that made sense. He nodded, mulling that over. Of course, this classroom was fairly close to the front office…

His eyes narrowed again suddenly. “But… how did you know I was in here?” He hadn’t been making any noise, after all.

Her big crimson eyes flitted away somewhere near the floor, a dusting of pink settling over her cheeks. “Oh… well… I-I just thought you might be,” she mumbled, ducking her head a bit.

“You thought I would be in this random empty classroom?” he pressed, raising an eyebrow.

“I—!” She didn’t seem to have a good end to that sentence, though, because she just clamped her mouth shut and flushed a little deeper. “Y-You never answered my question!” she deflected. “What are you doing here?”

“School Wonder business,” he rattled off easily, taking his seat on the desk again. It was a lie. He had only been here because the sunset was particularly visible from this window, and he enjoyed watching it sometimes.

At that moment, Yashiro’s eyes darted out the window at the orange-and-pink sky before flickering back over to Hanako.

And something in the ghost’s mind clicked into place.

But no… it couldn’t possibly be… that would mean that this entire time after fighting their monkey monster… for an entire week…

Daikon, he thought as clearly as he could. Just to test a theory. Daikon daikon daikon.

Sure enough, a flash of annoyance appeared on Yashiro’s face, her brows angling down and her mouth twisting in a brief frown before her expression smoothed out again.

Oh no… this was rather bad news. Hanako had been carefully training his own thought patterns since he became an apparition, but there was something about Yashiro that made his thoughts all go outside their designated lanes, like a car driving on the wrong side of the road right into oncoming traffic. And on top of that, he had certain… feelings about Yashiro that he’d rather no one, himself included, ever examine too closely.

What kinds of things had she already heard him think? How elaborate were they? Were they full sentences, or just random words and images? But, no, the details weren’t important. He had to fix this right away!

“Sounds… important,” Yashiro’s voice recaptured his attention. She looked quite shifty and nervous, like someone whose cover is blown might have looked. “I’ll, uh…” Stepping backward, she fumbled for the door, her stack of papers cradled in the crook of her other arm. “I’ll let you get back to that then—”

“Yashiro,” he prompted her before she could disappear, getting to his feet again and taking a few steps toward her. “Is there anything you would like to tell me?” He kept his voice even, despite the panic swirling in his gut. “Something you’ve been keeping from me, perhaps?”

“Nope,” Yashiro lied immediately, backing right out into the hallway again. “Well I’ve got to get these to the office see you later Hanako-kun bye!”

“Yashi—” But he couldn’t even finish her name before she had shut the door behind her and fled. Hanako sighed, letting the arm he’d reached out towards her fall back to his side.

Great. How was he supposed to make her give up the power now?… -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was Christmas Eve, and Nene still hadn’t told Hanako about her new power. This was quite a problem, since after today they’d be on winter break until the 7th of January. Hearing other people’s thoughts all the time was exhausting, even after she’d learned to mostly tune them out by listening to music or drowning them out with her own thoughts. She did not want to spend her Christmas hearing a bunch of people thinking about their happy dates and kisses under mistletoe while she foolishly hid from the object of her own affections.

But the thing was… she had never known Hanako until now.

She was his friend, sure. She knew more about him than anyone else did, probably. But still, she only knew what Hanako allowed her to know (well, besides some glimpses she’d gotten into his past that the School Wonder remained blissfully unaware of). The Honorable Number Seven of the School Wonders had always been a different person from the playful Hanako-kun Nene knew, but underneath even that friendly face, a profoundly lonely and contemplative boy was hiding. And if he never showed that side of himself to her, was it really so wrong to take the opportunity to get to know him a little better?

Well… it was wrong, actually. It felt dirty and invasive and deceitful. But how else was she ever to know that he often thought things like Kou is a good kid. He makes me hopeful for better relationships between humans and supernaturals, when most of his interactions with Kou consisted of Hanako blowing raspberries at him and laughing at his expense? How would she have ever discovered that looking into his eyes made his brain spit out things like I never wanted to badly to live until I found someone worth living for, or I wonder what would happen if I just… kissed her right now (that one had been accompanied by a particularly vivid image of him holding her wrists to the wall as they kissed passionately, and Nene had nearly tripped headfirst into the toilet she was scrubbing in alarm)?

It was too bad she had ruined it yesterday by making him suspicious, but it was also probably for the best, and anyway she was pretty sure she’d gotten away before he fully caught on. She had to get Hanako to help her get rid of this power today, or else she’d be stuck with it until the end of winter break. Without Hanako around, mind-reading was just a nuisance, and with him around it was a violation of her friend’s privacy.

She knew all this, and yet the thought of losing this closeness with him still made her heart sink like a stone.

Her pulse pounded in her ears as she swung open the door to Hanako’s bathroom after school that day. He was sitting in his usual spot, drawing little pine trees on the window with the condensation from his breath. How could ghostly breath fog up glass, Nene wondered? “Um… I’m here,” she said, even though Hanako had definitely heard her come in anyway.

Hanako looked up, but didn’t turn his head, and Nene only saw his eyes through the reflection in the window. Yashiro, said his thoughts, my sweet, dear little princess. You’re looking positively radiant today, like a delicate snowflake sitting on one’s palm in the instant before it melts—perfectly unique and beautiful.

Well, that was one way to turn a girl’s world upside down. “O-Oh my goodness,” she sputtered, taking a step back with a hand over her heart.

“What’s wrong?” the ghost boy said aloud, turning to face her at last with a half-smile. “I haven’t even said hello yet.”

“Oh, um...” It was true he hadn’t said any of it out loud, but still… it had been quite grandiose, considering the last thing she’d heard him think yesterday was Oh no—it can’t be—has she been… all week?! accompanied by a rush of fear. “Nothing’s wrong, but… I wanted to make sure I saw you before Winter Break starts tomorrow.”

Ah, Winter Break, Hanako thought wistfully. Fourteen days of no Yashiro. What am I ever going to do? I’ll pine all day and night… assuming I will be able to tell them apart. Time has no meaning without her. “That’s very considerate of you,” said Hanako with a polite smile.

“Y—Yes, I mean, you’re welcome… that is, uh, no problem,” Nene squeaked, feeling steam practically coming off her face. “I also wanted to, uh, ask you a few questions about that creature we were up against last week.” Keep it cool, Nene! she told herself firmly. Just don’t react to anything he’s thinking, and his suspicions will disappear!

“The satori,” Hanako reminded her, sliding off the windowsill and striding over to her. “A very mischievous sort. They have very curious powers.” Much like the power this girl has over my heart! his thoughts cried out. Oh, cruel fate! Why must you take her from my side? Why must we be separated by not just time, but also space, and life itself?! And also Winter Break?!

“O-Oh?” The tiny peep that was Nene’s voice was hardly recognizable as hers anymore. “What are those?”

“They read minds,” he answered quickly. “They use what they know about you to anticipate your every move, every word behind your lips.” Would that my words matched the deepest depths of my heart, he continued internally. Would that Yashiro could know just how much… of a dirty, dirty daikon I think she is.

The hand that had been fiddling with her skull brooch slipped and nearly yanked it clean off, and Nene breathed in sharply. A dirty daikon?! Where had that come from?! “That sounds… quite dangerous,” she forced out.

“Oh yes,” said Hanako, “it is.” Equally dangerous is how much I want to take a bite out of those delectable daikon ankles.

“Oh!” Nene huffed, offended. Her face burned, but she wrestled her face into a neutral expression as she continued: “How… did you end up defeating it?”

Hanako shrugged. “We whacked it in the head. They’re tricky monsters that love mind games, but if you attack them physically, they run with their tails between their legs.” Mm, how am I going to satisfy my radish cravings during this entire break? Where else will I find ankles as chubby as hers?

“THAT’S IT!!” she finally exploded, stomping her foot. “Stop… stop looking at my ankles!”

He blinked innocently. “I’m not,” he said. I don’t need to look at them to know how plump they are.

“Stop thinking about them, then!” she begged.

“Why, Yashiro,” said Hanako lightly, holding his finger to his chest in mild surprise. “How ever could you claim to know my innermost thoughts?”

All the fury rushed out of her like a rapidly-deflating balloon as she realized that she had been tricked. “Oh,” she said, her shoulders slumping.

Gotcha, Hanako thought smugly as a grin spread across his face. Hey, Yashiro, if you can hear this—and I know you can—say ‘galactic nucleus.’

“Why ‘galactic nucleus’?” she asked listlessly.

“No real reason,” he chirped, clasping his hands behind his back. “I just wondered what it would sound like in your voice.” It is, after all, my favorite voice.

“Enough with the fake romantic thoughts!” Nene snapped, her hands balling into fists. “You’ve figured me out, so there’s no need to keep making fun of me!”

“What?” Her friend looked puzzled, blinking as his pale cheeks darkened to pink. “I—I didn’t think anything—” Damn! She heard that! Why can I never control my thoughts around her? Gah, she’s hearing this too, probably! Curiously, Nene tilted her head as she stared at Hanako, who had averted his eyes and begun thinking a steady stream of Thinkaboutstarsthinkaboutstarsthinkaboutstars. He seemed quite insistent that Nene would hear no further spontaneous thoughts.

“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” she sighed, crossing over to Hanako’s windowsill and drawing a snowman next to where Hanako had drawn the tree. “I just… you never open up to me, Hanako-kun. I felt like I was seeing you for the first time. And it was…” She gave the snowman a tiny smile with her pinkie. “...Nice.”

“It’s not very nice to read people’s thoughts without asking them,” Hanako grumbled, crossing his arms. “And you got mad at me for trying to sneak a peek at your diary that one time? What a double standard.” Nene would have been hurt by this cutting, jaded (absolutely true) statement, except then his mind screamed DON’T BE SO HARSH; YOU’LL MAKE HER CRY, YOU IDIOT!

“I won’t cry,” she chuckled, her breath fogging up the glass and making the snowman disappear. “You’re right, Hanako-kun. I was a terrible friend. I was just afraid you were never going to really be honest with me. That’s why, even though hearing everyone’s minds chattering away was super distracting and annoying, I didn’t want it to go away.” Turning to face him again and leaning against the wall next to the window, she threw him a shaky smile. “I’m truly sorry, and… if there’s a way to erase my memory of everything I heard, you can do that. I deserve it.”

“Are you kidding?” he snorted. “I’m not going to erase your memory. What kind of person do you think I am?” There’s no way I know of to erase it, unfortunately. “No, this guilt you feel is a far better punishment. You have to live with that forbidden knowledge forever now.”

Nene shuffled her feet. “Forbidden knowledge like… how you’re jealous of the guy I like?” she ventured, stealing a glance up at him before returning her gaze to the floor.

He blushed all the way up to his ears. “Don’t try to trick me into revealing anything!” he barked. Was that the worst she heard? I suppose I should feel lucky… except that’s not something I’ve ever been.

She wrestled the amused smirk off her face. “Sorry. Anyway, do you know how to fix this?”

“I have a theory,” he admitted, though his tone was reluctant. “This happened because you were hit with the satori’s enchantment, so if I were to use my power as a Mystery to overwrite that enchantment…”

“That sounds fine!” she said. “Let’s do that!”

The ghost boy ruffled the hair at the back of his head awkwardly. “Well, see… about that… there’s a few ways I could do that, but… I guess the one that makes the most sense is to knock you out again…”

She blinked. “You mean, like, by attacking me?!”

“I guess, yeah…” Hanako grimaced. I mean, I could also mark her with my seal with a kiss that would neutralize any other supernatural’s influence, but I doubt she’ll go for that…

Nene was faced with a very difficult decision: Let the most powerful apparition in the school hit her with an attack to make her fall unconscious, or kiss the only boy she had ever really loved.

Ha! As if. It wasn’t difficult and it was barely a decision.

“Hanako-kun,” she said as she threw her arms around his neck, “I’m fine with this way.” And before he could protest, she pressed her lips against his firmly.

Hanako’s mind was an overpowering buzz of confusion, unfinished questions, alarm, and euphoria. Perfect—Why is she…?—Amazing—What is this?—Soft, warm—Love so much— Caught up in the emotion of it, and perhaps also letting herself indulge in something she’d never thought she would be allowed, Nene smiled against his mouth and tilted her head, kissing him even more forcefully until his cold lips finally moved against hers. Was there mistletoe? his brain asked as he met her new angle. No, this is a bathroom—then why—don’t care…

His arms, which had been hovering somewhere around shoulder-height, wrapped around Nene to draw her closer, and though the kiss broke as she gasped at the sudden frigid hug, he covered her mouth again desperately. Not yet. Don’t go yet. Wanted for so long. Yashiro… my Yashiro. Behind her eyes flashed an entire scrapbook’s worth of images of her—laughing, crying, glaring, smiling affectionately—and in each of them, she seemed to be glowing with a soft light. It was a mental picture of her that only someone who loved her could possibly have. Nene could do nothing but muffle her ecstatic noises into their kiss, her heart attempting to surge out of her chest.

“Yashiro… not that I have a problem with it, necessarily, but… what the heck was that?!” Hanako panted when they drew back. And can we do it again?

Her mind still felt foggy with bliss, so she obliged his internal question by giving him one last peck on the mouth before answering. “I heard you think about how you could eliminate other supernaturals’ influence on me with a kiss.”

Hanako’s face was glowing so red he’d have no trouble guiding Santa’s sleigh. “Y-Yashiro, I meant a kiss on the forehead,” he sputtered. “The attack hit your forehead, and the enchantment was to your mind, so of course I’d neutralize it with a kiss on the head.” Can she still hear me? Oh no. She can probably tell how sappy I’m feeling right now. Along with this thought came a rush of blissful, nervous, and affectionate feelings.

Nene gaped at him, flabbergasted. “The… the forehead,” she repeated blankly. “Of course. Um… sorry.” Well, she’d had a good life here at Kamome, but now it was time for her to unlock her other latent superpower—the power to phase through the floor and fall through the entire earth.

But Hanako just laughed a little. I’m not, he thought before leaning forward to brush her bangs back and press a kiss above her brow. Nene let her eyes flutter closed at the chilly touch, so gentle and affectionate, and though she wasn’t sure if the ensuing whisper of I love you was her own thought or Hanako’s, soon enough he was drawing back and resting his hands on his hips expectantly. “Well? Do you know what I’m thinking?”

After a few moments of silence, Nene shook her head. “No… I couldn’t hear a thing!” she declared, clapping her hands together and bouncing on her heels. “You did it, Hanako-kun!” The smile fell away from her face. “But… what are you thinking?”

“Oh, nothing that important,” said Hanako, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close again. “Something about a Christmas wish coming true.”

“I still haven’t gotten my Christmas wish,” she pointed out, sticking out her lower lip a little. “The boy I like hasn’t asked me out.”

“Oh, apologies. I forgot I didn’t say it out loud,” he quipped, and rested his forehead against hers. “Yashiro… I like you. Will you go out with me.” A grin sneaked across his face, and his honey-colored eyes gleamed. “Were you picturing something like that, maybe?”

She leaned forward to brush their noses together. “You read my mind,” she murmured against his lips, and closed the distance.

=============================================================

Thank you so much to everyone who has supported me and been my friend this year. I really needed it this year. I mean, everybody did? But... in particular I needed it. Thanks again to my lovely wives, Jaz, Radish, and Anubis, who married me before my boyfriend could even propose LOL.

My HanaNene Discord server... you guys are irreplaceable to me, and every one of you is a true friend. I love you all so much and I hope we can keep being friends for a long time!! And you, person reading this: Thank you so much. I hope you enjoyed my Christmas gift to you!!

Happy Holidays and much love to all! <3333333333

[morganaspendragonss]

Hi, I love your writing and I wondered if you’d possibly write something where TK kills in self defence and struggles in the aftermath so Carlos takes care of him? If you’re not comfortable with this kind of thing, no worries at all!! xxx

holly's august extravaganza day 2: out, damned spot

thank you for the prompt! sorry it's taken a while but i hope you see this and i hope you like it!

@badthingshappenbingo prompt: rage against the reflection

fandom: 9-1-1: lone star

ao3 | 1.3k | semi-graphic depictions of violence, (very) minor character death, self-harm, panic attacks, hurt/comfort

TK can’t breathe.

The man’s hand is around his neck, crushing his airways, choking him, and he can’t fucking breathe. His vision swims, something wet and warm—blood?—running down his face, so he kicks out blindly, desperate to get free.

His foot connects with something and the man attacking him cries out in pain, his grip loosening and allowing TK to wriggle away. He falls to the floor, heaving in painful gasps of air, but he’s barely given a second before his attacker’s hands are on him again, hauling him up, reaching for him, and this time—

This time, TK shoves with all his might, and it’s enough to make the man falter. A few more thrashes and the hands are gone, TK falling to all fours as the darkness threatens to close around him. He blinks it back as best he can; he’s not out of danger yet, so he starts crawling forward hesitantly, frowning when his hand lands in a pool of something viscous.

He stares uncomprehendingly at the black stain on his palm, then follows the trail along the loose gravel of the alleyway to—

Oh, god.

TK’s eyes meet those of his attacker, except the other man’s stare back without acknowledgement, blank in a way he’s seen far too many times in the field. He’s dead, unmistakably so, and TK… TK caused it.

He did this. He killed him.

TK gags, any breath he’d managed to regain fleeing from him. And when the darkness comes for him again, he goes into it gratefully.

*

TK wakes up gasping, choking on air. The sheets are suffocating him and, when he tries to free himself, they only seem to get tighter. The hands reaching out for him, trying to calm him, are the final straw; TK throws himself from bed and sprints to the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind him as he collapses against the sink.

On some level, he is aware that the hands were Carlos’s, that the sheets were theirs, that his hands are clean, and that the dream was just a dream.

Except it wasn’t ‘just’ anything. TK did do those things. The bruises around his neck and the cut to his temple may have healed but it doesn’t matter; that night is burned into his memory, the dead man’s eyes watching him constantly. In a frenzy, he turns the taps on full blast, scrubbing and scrubbing until his hands are redredred, sore and stinging.

He glances up, catching a glimpse of his reflection, and it gives him pause. He looks a mess, his hair sticking up in all directions, his eyes wild and red-rimmed, his face ghostly pale. Pale as a corpse, perhaps, except TK isn’t the corpse in this situation, and a sudden flash of rage fills him.

Pain explodes across his knuckles before TK even knows he’s moved, and it takes a second to connect it to the sound of shattering and the spider-web cracks across the mirror. He watches his blood run in rivulets down his hand and wrist, feeling a measure of satisfaction at the sight.

Until, all of a sudden, reality sets in.

The bathroom’s fluorescent lighting throws what he’s done into sharp relief, and TK realises what it is. Another mess for Carlos to deal with, to fix, as if he didn’t have enough on his plate without his basket-case of a boyfriend going nuts every other night. TK’s legs tremble and give out, glass shards crunching as he collapses onto them, but he barely feels it. He barely feels anything; barely hears anything save for the harsh sound of his own ragged breathing echoing in his ears.

Even the crash as the bathroom door bursts open is muted, as are Carlos’s shouts; the only reason TK knows he’s saying anything is the sight of his lips moving. Carlos carefully reaches out for him again, and this time TK doesn’t fight back.

He allows himself to be eased upright, allows Carlos to sit him down on the toilet and clean and dress his wounds. They mustn’t be too bad, as he’s just taken back to bed rather than the hospital. TK lies down on top of the sheets and clutches onto the pillow, staring blankly at the opposite wall.

He doesn’t move again until long after the sun has risen, and only then because Carlos walks in with toast and a glass of water.

TK takes the water gratefully, avoiding Carlos’s eyes as he sips. Setting the glass on the nightstand, he shifts into a cross-legged position, staring down at his lap. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Carlos says, because of course he does. That’s been their routine these past two months—an endless cycle of apologies and rebuttals.

“I’m sorry about the mirror,” he clarifies.

Carlos’s frown is audible. “That’s what you’re upset about?”

“You’re not?”

“TK, baby, no.” Carlos’s hand appears in his vision, hesitating; TK turns his own palm up in invitation, and Carlos takes it. “Mirrors can be replaced.”

“People can’t,” TK whispers, that familiar guilt settling heavy in his stomach.

Carlos’s fingers are gentle as he tilts TK’s head towards him, his eyes even gentler. “Ty, listen to me,” he says. “I’ve told you this before and I’m going to tell it to you as many times as it takes, even if that’s every day for the rest of my life. It was not your fault. You were just protecting yourself; there was no way you could have known what would happen.”

Carlos pauses, searching his face, then moves his fingers to brush them down TK’s cheek. “Do you know something else? I’m so fucking glad you fought. It means that I still get to have you here, in my life. I wish things hadn’t turned out like they did, but that’s only because I hate to see you suffering, sweetheart. I promise you, if it came to a choice between this and losing you forever, I would choose this every single time.”

TK swallows against the sobs building in his throat. He looks away from Carlos again, taking a bite of the toast for something to do. It tastes like cardboard on his tongue and sticks uncomfortably in his throat, but he forces it down, ignoring the way his stomach churns.

“How can you say that?” he mumbles, dropping the rest of the toast back on the plate with a sigh. “How can you say that and mean it?”

“TK.”

“I’m a fucking mess, Carlos,” he says bitterly. “I can barely stand to go outside, I can’t sleep more than an hour or two at a time—I feel like I’m going insane because everywhere I turn, I see his eyes and his blood and no matter what you say, I killed him. I broke your fucking mirror last night, and I don’t even know why! I just… I don’t recognise myself anymore.”

This last admission is little more than a whisper as TK finally loses the battle against his tears. He squeezes his eyes shut and does nothing to wipe them away. “Sometimes I think I did die that night,” he admits quietly. “I’m not who I was before then; I don’t know who I am and I don’t know how to get back to who I was. I don’t even know if I can.”

A pause, then he’s being pulled into Carlos’s side and wrapped in a strong embrace. TK stiffens, but quickly melts into it, letting loose his cries into Carlos’s shirt.

Carlos presses a kiss to the top of his head, his lips barely straying when he whispers, “You’re Tyler Kennedy Strand. You’re the man I love more than anything else in this world, and that will never change no matter what. I’m going to be here for you every step of the way; trust in that. If nothing else, trust in me. We’ll get through this, Ty, together. I swear it.”

TK sniffs and burrows further into Carlos, tightening his own arms around him. It’s a thank you and an I trust you and an I love you all rolled into one.

It’s a promise.

It’s hope.

[qitwrites]

a numbers game 

Fandom: BNHA 

Pairing: Kiribaku 

(AO3) 

Bakugou knows his personality and general rage-filled disposition towards everything, in general, isn’t winning him any favours, but the texts have made him contemplate just how shitty he must’ve been in a past life to deserve a fate like this.

Because no one - and Bakugou knows such assholes as Monoma - but no one deserves to be on the receiving end of unsolicited dick pics. From random numbers. At all times of the day. For the last 3ish months.

“I am going to throw my phone out the fucking window, I swear on all that is good and pure, fucking bull-“

“More dick pics?” Camie interrupts with a wide grin, plucking the phone out of Bakugou’s hand.

“What the fuck else?” Bakugou snaps, trying to pull his phone back in vain. Camie holds it just out of reach, eyeing the disgusting penis with a critical stare.

"Hmm,” she says, passing the phone back to him before taking a sip of her terrible grass juice that smells like a badly mowed golf course, “the lighting is bad and he hasn’t done like, any grooming at all. 3/10.”

“You’re being generous,” Bakugou huffs, deleting the picture immediately and swallowing the still raging urge to fling his phone at the nearest wall. “It’s unsolicited. And his fingernails are fucking filthy. -100/10.”

Camie rolls her eyes. “You’re being dramatic again Kitkat.”

Bakugou counts to 10 in his head, tries to find that last shred of patience he knows is somewhere deep in his dark pit of a soul and breathes out in a rush.

“I need to fucking figure this out before I actually lose it and track down one of these fuckers and choke the life out of them.”

Because here’s the thing- Bakugou has been receiving dick pics and dirty text messages like hi bby want sex? and imma dick you down gud boo – he’s positively swooning, what a lovely way to be wooed – and he has no idea how to stop it. Yes, he could cancel his number and get a new one, but all of his bank details are linked to this one. He’s had it since he first got a phone in middle school, and now all of his documents are attached to the damn thing. The very idea of going to the banks and the DMV and every other stupid establishment to get it changed makes him grimace hard enough that he decides to bear with it.

Except, every time he receives one of these horrible pictures, his urge to blow up the phone, nay, the entire world, simmers at dangerous levels.

“Cool it kitkat,” Camie croons, giving his forearm a squeeze, “you’re making your homicidal face. That cannot be good for wrinkles.”

“Like I give a fuck,” Bakugou grunts, flinging his phone away carelessly and watching it skitter around on the kitchen counter before halting dangerously close to the edge. “I just want it to stop.”

Camie puts her atrocity for a drink down and pulls the fridge open, rummaging around as she says, “I have a theory about all this.” She pulls out a jar of jalapenos and places it in front of Bakugou. The blonde yanks a fork out of the admittedly cute utensil bucket in the middle of their counter before snapping the lid off and spearing a good 3 pieces in one go. He chews on them slowly and directs a raised brow at Camie.

“Well,” she muses, picking her drink back up, “as a woman that receives a LOT of numbers from guys and gals and non-binary folks alike-“ Bakugou makes it a point to roll his eyes hard enough to knock his head back; Camie’s laughter is loud and boisterous “- I have a tactic for when I don’t know how to say no and don’t want to give my digits.”

Bakugou has another forkful of jalapenos in his mouth when he narrows his eyes at her.

Camie shrugs, “I usually change the very last digit of my number. Works like a charm. I never meet the person again, and they can’t contact me. Win-win.”

“Win-win my ass,” Bakugou seethes. “Do I look like I’m winning right now? I am this fucking close to killing someone, because of stupid tactics like yours.”

Camie finishes the last of her drink, and speaks around her straw, “You say that, but do you know how many people, and especially dudes, don’t take no for an answer? The only reason I give out any digits at all is when I can’t guarantee my safety. I know it’s not like, the perfect solution or anything, but I’m giving you facts right now.”

And Bakugou does, in fact, know that. He’s met those pushy assholes- people that don’t back down, people that don’t take no at face value, people that push and prod and get up in his space. It pisses him off to absolutely no end.

“Whatever,” he concedes. He spears another forkful of jalapenos before grumbling, “So, what the fuck do I do?”

Camie grins, minx like. “Why don’t you text the number one ahead and one behind your own and ask? I mean, in the best-case scenario you figure it out and get it all to stop, in the worst case, you get to yell at like random people. Isn’t that your second favourite pastime, right after yelling at that pigeon outside our balcony, the one with an agenda?”

“Don’t talk about that fucking pigeon,” Bakugou fumes, “fucking piece of shit bird and those dark, robotic eyes. Something is up with that; you can’t convince me otherwise.” He mulls over the rest of her suggestion before relenting, “Well, I guess I could spare a moment to yell at the fucking extras giving out my number to perverts with no manners and gross penises.”

“I find it so funny when you say the word manners,” Camie says as she walks to her room, “It’s almost like you know what it means!”

She isn’t even looking at him, but she manages to dodge the jalapeno that sails at her head. It hits the wall with a sick squelch, and when Bakugou hears Camie’s door shut, he drops his head on the counter with a loud, resounding thunk and muffles a scream into the marble.

  He forgets to send out those texts, and when he receives yet another picture, not three days later, of someone holding their disgusting penis in their hand, like it’s an accomplishment or some shit, he sends out a text message to two different numbers typed with shaky, sweaty fingers.

>> xxx-xxx-xxx6 , xxx-xxx-xxx4

I don’t know who the fuck you are, and you don’t know me, but it’s possible that one of you assholes gives out my number to random people who, in turn, send me fucking dick pics. It’s been over 3 fucking months, so knock it the actual fuck off. And in case it isn’t you, fuck you anyway.

  Bakugou wakes up from a restless sleep to sunlight sloping in through the blinds of his room, a dry mouth, and three new text messages from an unknown number.

Because his brain takes time to boot up in the mornings, he foregoes the phone entirely and makes his way to the kitchen in search of caffeine. Camie is always up before him, and he gratefully pours himself a mug of her insanely strong black coffee, the kind to palpitate your heart and make you vibrate in your seat. She calls it jet fuel, Inasa calls it death, Todoroki just blinks.

When he’s half a mug down, he finally retrieves his phone from his room and takes a seat in the balcony, surrounded by plants of all kinds. The sun is bright but not harsh, and he takes a second to enjoy it before opening his messages.

He doesn’t even recall sending the messages last night, and for a moment he’s enraged at the idea that someone sent him even more dick pics, but there’s no photos waiting for him, just three messages.

xxx-xxx-xxx4 omg omg OMG I didn’t think anyone actually used this number im sorry D:

xxx-xxx-xxx4 no really im so so sorry holy shit I was just following this idea that my friend gave me cause im terrible at turning people down but I didn’t realize they were messaging an actual other person OMG

xxx-xxx-xxx4 ofc I wont be giving your number out anymore im just so sorry bro, god, this is so damn UNMANLY of me

At least the person has the decency to sound apologetic. Not that it tempers Bakugou in any way, shape or form, but he takes note of it somewhere in the distant recesses of his mind.

Bakugou you better not give it out anymore fuckmunch. I should sue your ass for putting me under so much psychological distress.

The guy replies startlingly quickly. Bakugou opens the message with a quirked brow.

xxx-xxx-xxx4 shit can you actually do that?

Bakugou has no idea, but the key to selling anything is confidence, and he’s got enough to spare.

Bakugou try me

xxx-xxx-xxx4 IM REALLY REALLY SORRY OK TRULY D:

xxx-xxx-xxx4 and not just cuz you might sue me or anything, it was a terrible move on my part :’(

xxx-xxx-xxx4 can I make it up to you somehow??

Bakugou huffs, deflating a little. He’s angry yes, positively incensed for the most part, but the guy sounds genuinely sorry, and he’s finding it increasingly difficult to stay mad at someone that’s just being so damn decent and taking full responsibility.

Bakugou I don’t fucking know.

Bakugou just stop giving out my no.

Bakugou I swear to god if I get ONE MORE NUDE

Bakugou I will find you

xxx-xxx-xxx4 you don’t have to find me ill come to you

xxx-xxx-xxx4 cuz ill def deserve it at that point

xxx-xxx-xxx4 anyway, im sorry again. really ☹

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I gotta get some sleep, so tell me later about how I can make it up to you!!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 goodnight

Bakugou checks the clock at the top left corner of his phone screen. It reads 8:31am.

What the fuck does this guy do for work anyway? And does Bakugou care?

He decides no, he doesn’t, because he’s really too busy to care about anything, especially assholes that hand out his number to horny strangers because they’re too chickenshit to say no.

He nods at his own conclusion, downs the rest of his death-in-a-cup, and walks back inside, ready to start another long day of work. Bakugou gives himself an hour before he puts this all behind him, fully forgotten and finally taken care of.

  Why the fuck haven’t I blocked this fucker yet, is the first thing Bakugou thinks when he gets more texts from them.

xxx-xxx-xxx4 heyyo!!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 did you think of anything????? How can I make it up to you??

Bakugou stop texting me, that’ll be a great start

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I will as soon as u tell me how to make it up to you!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I was being so unmanly and cowardly, I need to fix it!!

Bakugou good for fucking you, leave me alone

xxx-xxx-xxx4 y don’t you keep thinking abt it and lemme know !!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 if it helps, I can hook u up with some free drinks!! I co-own and bartend at a place downtown!!!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 just think abt it

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I gotta get back to work, talk soon!

Bakugou stop texting me dammit

Bakugou isn’t a naïve person, but he somehow convinces himself that this will be the end of things.

  It is, predictably, not the end of things.

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I just realized I didn’t give u my name

xxx-xxx-xxx4 Kirishima eijirou!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 and you are?

Bakugou blocking you

xxx-xxx-xxx4 aww come on man, don’t be like tht ☹

xxx-xxx-xxx4 wait, r u a man?????

xxx-xxx-xxx4 PLEASE AT LEAST TELL ME THAT I DON’T WANT TO MISGENDER U OMG

Bakugou can you calm the fuck down holy shit

Bakugou yes I’m a dude, you’re fucking fine dumbass

xxx-xxx-xxx4 oh phew!!!!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 ok my dude

xxx-xxx-xxx4 please come down to the bar??????

xxx-xxx-xxx4 do you actually drink though?? If you don’t we still have great mocktails

xxx-xxx-xxx4 and I can whip up some awesome protein shakes

xxx-xxx-xxx4 ohhh and our food is bomb,,, I promise

Bakugou do you ever just stop talking

xxx-xxx-xxx4 NOPE :D

Bakugou Not a compliment

xxx-xxx-xxx4 what can I say

xxx-xxx-xxx4 im an opportunist

Bakugou you’re telling me

Bakugou fucker

xxx-xxx-xxx4 IM STILL SO SORRY

xxx-xxx-xxx4 PLEASE COME TO THE BAR LET ME MAKE IT UP TO YOU

xxx-xxx-xxx4 actions speak hella louder than words

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I must action you

Bakugou what the fuck 

xxx-xxx-xxx4 you get what I mean!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 <location> this is the place

xxx-xxx-xxx4 its name is RIOT, u cant miss it

xxx-xxx-xxx4 just lemme know when u can make it

Bakugou I haven’t agreed to shit asshole

Bakugou stop assuming things

xxx-xxx-xxx4 free food, free drinks, free live performance of whatever band’s performing

Bakugou …………………

Bakugou I’ll think about it

xxx-xxx-xxx4 HELL YEAH

xxx-xxx-xxx4 whats your name btw?

Bakugou like id tell you

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I need it for the reservation!!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 so that I don’t accidentally serve the wrong gentleman all your free perks

Bakugou didn’t say im coming yet

xxx-xxx-xxx4 im super optimistic

Bakugou I can tell, you’re giving me a headache

xxx-xxx-xxx4 so………… name?

Bakugou no

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I’ll get it out of you eventually

Bakugou try me

Bakugou fucker

If Bakugou finds himself smiling at the end of the exchange, well, that’s his business.

  “So, you finally figured out who was responsible for the penis pictures?” Todoroki deadpans around his cosmo.

“That’s wonderful Bakugou!” Inasa booms, slamming his beer down on the counter with gusto. Bakugou throws a spoon at him.

“Shut it Baldy,” he grunts, going back to chopping veggies. “And yes, I did, but now this fucker won’t stop texting me, insisting on making it up to me or some shit.”

“And this is a bad thing?” Todoroki summarizes slowly. Bakugou turns around in time to see him mouth why to Inasa before taking another generous sip of his drink. Inasa shrugs his stupidly large shoulders before asking, “Why is that a bad thing?”

Bakugou throws another spoon at him. “Because, I texted them so I could stop people from texting me. Now this person’s volunteering information to me about being a bartender and shit and constantly apologizing and it’s fucking annoying.”

“You know what’s interesting?” Camie muses, stirring her bloody mary with a long ass celery stick. “You’re getting all these text messages from this bartender, and you can like, so easily block this one number and be done with it, but you like, keeping responding. And keep, you know, not blocking.”

He can’t see it, but he knows Todoroki is nodding, the fucker.

“That is a good observation!” Inasa booms again, and Bakugou has to resist the urge to fling his entire cutlery set at the man’s thick skull. “Do you like this person Bakugou?”

“What’s there to like, I don’t even fucking know him!”

“Well,” Camie starts, takes a bite out of the celery stick, continues, “he’s well-mannered. Clearly good looking, because you got a LOT of penis pictures these past three months, and that also leads us to believe the business is doing really well, if so many patrons come in begging for a number. All good things, don’t you think?”

“I hate you,” Bakugou says, stirring the curry with barely repressed rage. “I hate all of you. I hate humanity. Fuck people.”

“Or fuck this person in specific,” Camie says gleefully. “You haven’t gotten laid in like 8 months boo, you need to get some.”

“You’re the actual fucking worst.”

“In all seriousness,” Todoroki interrupts, putting his empty glass down delicately, “why haven’t you blocked the number? It seems like an easy enough solution.” The asshole has the audacity to sound genuinely curious, if not slightly amused.

Bakugou hates everything.

“I don’t, I don’t fucking know, ok?” He finally admits through clenched teeth. The blonde kills the heat and places the curry on the counter while Camie brings out the rice and some pickled vegetables from the fridge. She pulls out a beer and twists the cap off before handing it to Bakugou, who snatches it away and takes a quick swig before continuing, “He’s actually kinda nice to me, I guess. And I like watching him be so sorry about all those penises. I may have also mentioned suing him for psychological distress.” Bakugou catches Todoroki’s gaze. “Can I do that?”

Todoroki hums, “You can try, but I don’t think you’ve got that solid a case. Plus, haven’t you deleted virtually all the evidence?”

Bakugou grips the neck of his beer bottle harder. “I fucking hate everything.”

  bartender asshole <image attached>

Bakugou what the fuck

Bakugou why are you sending me cat pics?

Bakugou also that cat is stupidly cute

bartender asshole I know right?????

bartender asshole her name is ruby

bartender asshole and id die for her

bartender asshole i just figured ud be a cat person

Bakugou ………….

Bakugou I hate u

bartender asshole :D :D :D

Bakugou ugh

Bakugou Bakugou Katsuki

bartender asshole :D :D :D :D :D

bartender asshole HI BAKUGOU SO NICE TO KNOW UR NAME

Bakugou I hate everything

bartender asshole except ruby. Its not allowed

Bakugou …………………………………

Bakugou except ruby

bartender asshole :D :D :D :D :D

  Kirishima, it turns out, is a ray of fucking sunshine. Bakugou has a distinct feeling that looking at him directly would be a blinding experience.

Not that he knows who to look for though; he has no idea what this guy looks like. He guesses that he’s buff, with all the times he tells Bakugou about the gym showers running out of hot water and beating his best weights doing bench presses, but he knows nothing else.

He does know that he’s sweet as fuck, making it impossible for Bakugou to stay mad at him. He doesn’t blink at Bakugou’s cussing, and he sends him cute pictures of Ruby.

There is a part of him, small but steadily growing, that wants to meet this stupidly nice bartender.

Bakugou hates everything.

  dumbass bartender so what do you do???

Bakugou front-end development and web design

dumbass bartender oh damn!!!

dumbass bartender so youre like smart smart

Bakugou obviously

dumbass bartender have I seen your work anywhere??

Bakugou I recently redid the website of that protein powder company you don’t shut up about

dumbass bartender ????????????????????

dumbass bartender that’s amazing!!!!!!!!!

dumbass bartender I just revisited the website, it looks so cool

Bakugou duh

Bakugou im the best

dumbass bartender I don’t doubt that!!! :D :D

Bakugou don’t you have work?

dumbass bartender aww bakubro are you looking out for me <3 <3

Bakugou call me that again and I will fucking end you

dumbass bartender before the free drinks??? That you are yet to redeem? ?? at my wonderful establishment?????????? :D :D :D

Bakugou I hate everything.

dumbass bartender D:

Bakugou except RUBY DAMMIT

dumbass bartender :D

  “Just to recap,” Kaminari says with an incredulous look in his eyes, “this guy cusses like a sailor, is constantly insulting you, never initiates conversation, and you still like him?”

Kirishima’s answering grin is bashful. “I mean, when you put it like that it sounds not so great, but he’s really not that bad! He’s super funny and confident, and he LOVES Ruby. Plus, I don’t like him like that, I just think he’s cool.” Kirishima picks up another glass from the washer and starts carefully drying it with his dishcloth before saying, “And, you know, I did put him through a lot by giving out his number. His behaviour is kinda warranted if you ask me.”

“I mean, in the beginning maybe, but haven’t you guys been texting for over a week now?”

“Denki, are you forgetting that giving out another number was your idea?” Kirishima mutters, narrowing his eyes at his best friend. “I’m in this mess because of you.”

Kaminari suddenly seems to find the glass in his hand a lot more interesting. Kirishima’s laugh echoes around the empty bar.

‘What’s so funny?” Ashido muses, bringing a crate of bottled beer behind the counter.

“Kirishima is going gaga over angry dick pic man.”

“I’m not going gaga, what the heck-“

“I think it’s cute,” Ashido says with a big smile. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you actually be interested in somebody; it’s really cute!”

“I don’t like him like that,” Kirishima stresses, though his cheeks are a little warm. He can blame that on the lack of air conditioning, he thinks. 

“We talking about angry dick pic man?” Sero asks with a shit-eating grin. “10 bucks say he’s actually a middle-aged guy with a cheese fetish.”

“That’s so random-“

“You’re on!” Ashido yells, slapping her hand into Sero’s. “I think he’ll be a hottie.”

“He hasn’t even said he’ll come,” Kirishima says, eyes downcast.

“He’ll come,” the three chorus, going about doing their tasks. Kirishima shakes his head fondly and finishes up with the glasses. Just as he’s put all the shot glasses away, he feels his phone vibrate.

Bakubro just finished a massive project

Bakubro could use a drink this weekend

Bakubro know any good spots?

Kirishima’s face breaks into the biggest smile as he rushes to answer.

Kirishima I know a bar that serves free drinks with your name on it!!!!

Kirishima amazing food, dope music, the bestest drinks

Kirishima ive heard the bartender is a great guy too

Bakubro way to toot your own fucking horn damn

Kirishima :DDDDD

Kirishima bt seriously

Kirishima please? ???? ??

Kirishima PLEASEEEEEEEEE??????????????????

Bakubro ugh

Bakubro fine.

Bakubro Friday night at 8

Kirishima looks up from the screen and calls out, “Denki!”

“Yeah?”

“Switch shifts with me, I’ll do Friday.”

“Um, ok, why though?”

Kirishima doesn’t respond, just goes back to texting, his heart thudding in his ribcage.

Kirishima YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Kirishima cant wait :D

Bakubro I’m bringing my stupid friends btw

Kirishima wait

Kirishima you have friends???????

Bakubro I am going to end you

Bakubro you know what? Fuck you im not coming

Kirishima BAKUGOU NO

Kirishima IM SORRY OFC U HAVE FRNDS

Kirishima please come

Kirishima how big a table should I reserve????

Bakubro don’t bother

Kirishima IM SORRRYYYYYYYYYY

Kirishima <image attached> <image attached> <image attached>

Bakubro bastard

Bakubro you playing dirty by sending me pics of Ruby

Kirishima need to weaken your guard somehow

Kirishima pls tell me it worked

Bakubro ugh

Bakubro ill be there

Bakubro reserve a table for 4

Bakubro your stupid bar better be worth it

Kirishima I promise it will be!!!!

Kirishima whoops in joy, slipping his phone back into his pocket. He looks up to see three sets of eyes looking at him with varying degrees of amusement.

“You get a really mushy look on your face when you’re texting him, it’s almost gross,” Sero points out with a laugh.

“Hush you,” Ashido admonishes, whipping her dishcloth at him. She walks over to Kirishima and gives him a big hug. “I think it’s very, very precious.”

“What did he say?”

“He’s coming this Friday!” Kirishima beams, holding Ashido closer against his side.

The three giggle.

“10 bucks say Kirishima messes up the drinks at least once.”

“HEY!”

Ashido squeezes around his middle. “Hon, I love you, but I’m not dumb enough to go against that.”

“HEY!”

They end up laughing and fibbing at each other for the rest of the prep time, and Kirishima feels his heart absolutely soar.

  Friday brings with it crunch time, running lines and lines of code, having a mini-breakdown because the stupid text block keeps floating around on the webpage like it’s in outer fucking space, being forced into one of Camie’s ridiculous vlogs and having an existential crisis about what to wear on a non-date get-together with the guy that ruined Bakugou’s life for close to three months.

Camie spends most of the day laughing at him. Bakugou throws more condiments at her.

“Fucking help me at least, you useless wench,” Bakugou growls, shifting to clothes as he throws a pair of jeans at her. Camie dances out of the way and doubles over, laughing till she tears up from the force of it all.

“I can’t, I just can’t,” she wheezes. “Did you just say wench? What era are you from babe?”

“FUCK OFF,” he roars, leaping towards her. Camie shrieks and ducks away, making a beeline towards his closet.

“Ok, ok, let’s get you dressed! What kinda look are you trying for?”

“Fuck if I know,” he grouses, feeling oddly out of his depth. He wants to look good, but he has no idea for what.

That’s a lie, he knows why. He just won’t admit it.

“Well, why don’t we pick something simple but flattering? Plus, if it's in your style, you’re bound to be more comfy.” Camie pulls out a pair of black jeans that are ripped at the knees, a black fitted round-neck tee shirt, and some black boots. While he’s changing, Camie pulls out a silver chain, some bands for his wrists and a collection of rings.

“Do you want me to do your eyes?” she offers, holding up some mascara and an eye pencil. Bakugou shrugs and sits on the edge of his bed. Camie’s smile is soft as she stands between his thighs, gently but efficiently applying his make-up. When she’s done, he walks over to the mirror to look at himself, and he has to admit- he looks good. Always one to take care of his body and his figure, Bakugou is lean muscle packed into a 5’10” body. His blonde hair is as messy as ever, but the combination of his make-up, the accessories and his clothes give him an edgy look like no other. Camie throws a dark fitted jacket at him before sauntering over to her own room.

He continues to reply to some work emails when his phone buzzes.

dumbass cant wait to see you!!!

dumbass just ask for me at the bar

dumbass or I might be the one to greet you!! :D :D

Bakugou I know dumbass

Bakugou what, are you nervous or some shit?

dumbass I mean, kinda????

dumbass it’s our first time meeting afterall

dumbass I don’t even know wat you look like!!!!

Bakugou blonde wearing all black

dumbass redhead wearing a shirt with the riot logo!

Bakugou whatever

Bakugou ill be there at 8

Dumbass cant wait <33333

Bakugou dumbass

Bakugou scoffs, his own nerves calming at the thought that he’s not the only one that’s a bit out of sorts. It’s nice to know that sunshine Kirishima is jittery about all this.

Also, interesting to know that he’s a redhead. Bakugou can’t quite imagine it, but in a few minutes, he won't need to.

His stomach roils with anticipation, and Bakugou hates every single thing.

Camie pops out of her room at half-past 7 in a maroon romper that cuts above her mid-thigh, hair done in a loose bun, makeup absolutely perfect. Her heels put her at a height taller than Bakugou, but he’s gotten used to being the shortest in their stupid posse. Doesn’t piss him off any less though.

She gets a phone call just as she pushes a tube of lip gloss into her purse.

“We are downstairs!” Inasa’s voice rings through her speaker, stupidly loud.

“Can it, baldy,” Bakugou grunts with a roll of his eyes, “we’ll be there in a sec.”

“See ya!”

Before Bakugou can usher Camie out the door, she pushes her clutch into his hands and walks over to the kitchen cabinet, pulling out two shot glasses and a bottle of tequila.

“Wha-“

“Liquid courage, my dude,” she says, pouring two generous shots and pushing one at Bakugou. She picks her own glass up and gives him a devilish smirk, “Bottoms up bitch!”

Bakugou picks the glass up with a resigned sigh but smirks back equally devilish. They cheers, smack the glasses against the counter and drain them smoothly. Camie puts the glasses in the sink, places a smacking kiss on Bakugou’s cheek and laughs brightly as she dances out of the way of his rage.

They finally load up in Inasa’s range rover, Todoroki plays classical Japanese music over the speakers and Bakugou regrets everything.

  Riot is apparently something of a beloved establishment in its neighbourhood, and Bakugou growls when he sees how long the line leading to the bar is.

“Holy moly, that’s a lot of people!” Camie points out helpfully as she disembarks from the car.

Todoroki straightens his two-tone denim jacket and runs a hand through his hair as he says, “We have a reservation, so I think it’ll be fine?”

“Yes, I agree with you Todoroki,” Inasa beams, locking the car behind him as they walk towards the building. The outside is made of exposed brick and neon lights, and the RIOT sign is a deep red colour, eye-catching and beautiful.

They bypass the people in the line and walk up to the bouncer, who eyes them warily. He’s built like an absolute tank, broad and block-like, and his silver hair shines in the artificial light.

“Can I help you?”

“Bakugou, table for 4,” Camie says cheerily. The bouncer looks immediately enamoured with her before his eyes go wide.

“Wait, Eijirou’s Bakugou?”

Bakugou’s ears burn at that.

“I’m not fucking anybody’s!” he snaps. The bouncer immediately looks at him, and his face breaks into an even wider grin.

“Well, I’ll be damned! Can I see some ID real quick?”

Bakugou cusses colourfully under his breath but pulls out his license, and after a quick check, the bouncer, whose name is Tetsutetsu, steps aside to let them in.

“Have a good time!” he says happily, almost too happily. Bakugou feels his hackles rise.

“What the fuck?”

“It appears that Kirishima talks about you at least as much as you talk about him,” Todoroki observes, walking next to Bakugou.

“I don’t talk about him, fuck you!”

Todoroki’s delicately raised brow makes him want to punch something. Or someone. Preferably both.

“Fuck you all,” he reiterates before stomping inside.

Now, Bakugou is a relatively creative soul – his job kinda demands it – so it’s not his fault that he’s actually quite captivated by the interiors of this stupidly popular bar co-owned by a stupidly nice person.

The inside has exposed brick as well, and most of the furniture seems to be retro. There are large pipes and barrels behind the bar, made of what seems to be pure copper. Black marble covers the bar tops, and the lights are a mix of neon and muted whites, bright enough to see but still bathing the room in an alluring aura. There’s music thumping through the speakers, loud enough to dispel any silence but still at a bearable volume.

“Swanky,” Camie whistles, taking it all in.

Bakugou nods begrudgingly before setting his eyes on the bar.

“I’ll go get us a fucking table,” he mutters before walking over, hands digging deep into his pant pockets. He sees a lanky black-haired guy and a girl with tan skin and pink hair behind the bar, talking animatedly with the patrons as they serve them drinks at a dizzying pace.

When he finally gets a spot at the counter, the pink-haired girl finishes up with a customer and bounds over to him.

“Hi,” she greets, smile wide and happy, “haven’t seen you around before! What can I get you?”

“Kirishima,” Bakugou says because apparently, his brain to mouth filter has decided to abandon him in his time of need. The girl tilts her head in confusion and Bakugou feels the life drain out of him.

“I’m sorry?”

“I’m fuckin here because of dumbass Kirishima,” Bakugou barely grits out, fingers digging into his palms painfully. “The name is Bakugou, table for 4?”

He sees it all in slow-mo- the way her mouth goes slack, the way her eyes light up like firecrackers on New Year’s, and then the way her smile becomes positively blinding. He hates her already.

“Holy shit,” she breathes, “of course! So glad you’re here! Oye, Sero?”

“What?” the black-haired guy says without looking, topping up a perfectly poured glass of beer.

“You owe me 10 bucks.”

This gets his attention- he hands the drink off and looks at her, “Why would I-“

The girl just gestures at Bakugou and winks, “It’s him.”

Sero – or plain face, Bakugou’s brain helpfully supplies – immediately looks at him, his eyes widening. “Shit, seriously? Aw, man.” His smile becomes mischievous. “I’ll get Kirishima.” He opens the door behind the bar and disappears.

“What the fuck was that?” Bakugou snaps, beyond irritated to be so out of the loop.

“Nothing, nothing,” Pinky sings, raising her hands in a placating gesture. “Kirishima will show your party to your table. Do you want anything in the meantime?”

“… a beer,” Bakugou concedes because he’s not dumb enough to not get a drink before he sees Kirishima if he can help it.

“Coming right up!”

He waits at the bar, watching as his group of dumbasses ooh and ahh at the place, looking delighted. A bottle of cold beer hits the counter with a satisfying thunk, bringing his attention back to the bartop.

“Enjoy!” Pinky still has a stupid smile on her face but before Bakugou can say anything, the door behind her is thrown open and plain face steps out.

“The restocking can wait, literally the only thing you’ve talked about for the last 3 days is finally happening.”

The guy following him is all tanned skin and thick muscles under a fitted deep red tee shirt. His hair is a bright unnatural red, pulled into a high pony with a few strands still framing his face. His eyes are a softer red than Bakugou’s own, his cheeks sharp and high, and when his eyes meet Bakugou’s, a zip of electricity races down his spine and along his limbs till he can feel it in his toes.

When the man makes his way over, Bakugou also notes how damn tall he is- easily around 6’4”. His smile is shy, and he smells like sandalwood.

“Bakugou, hi,” he breathes, hesitantly holding his hand out. Bakugou takes it in a daze, still amazed by just how stupidly beautiful this stupidly kind bar owner is.

“Heyyo, you disappeared fam, how’s it going?” 

Bakugou hates everything.

He reluctantly slips his hand out of Kirishima’s warm, firm grip and turns to Camie with venomous eyes. “I literally just met him Cam, shut the fuck up.” He turns back to Kirishima, “Can you show us to our table?”

Kirishima shakes his head once before his smile turns blinding, and Bakugou finds himself fighting the urge to shield his eyes. “Of course,” he says in a voice that’s deep and warm and honey-like, “right this way!”

Bakugou snags his beer off the counter and takes a quick swig before Camie steals it and takes a few sips of her own. He growls at her but otherwise behaves, watching Kirishima’s back as he leads them through throngs of people engaged in cheerful conversation.

“Ok, well, he’s hot,” Cam says around the lip of the bottle. “Total beefcake. Whaddya think, boo?”

“I think you should fuck off,” Bakugou hisses, his face burning.

“If you wanted to go on a date, you probably shouldn’t have invited us,” Todoroki says, taking the offered bottle from Camie. 

Before Bakugou can explode in their faces, Kirishima stops and turns around. “Here ya go!” He gestures to a table behind him, tucked into a more private corner of the bar. It’s large and cushy, and when Bakugou gets in after Camie, he’s surprised at how soft the material is.

“So?” Kirishima says, eyes trained on Bakugou.

“Fuckin what?” Bakugou snaps, voice lacking any heat.

Kirishima laughs, head thrown back to reveal a long, thick neck and Bakugou is so damn weak.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends?”

Bakugou clicks his tongue before gesturing at each of them, “Camie, marketing expert by day, YouTube beauty vlogger by night, pain in my ass always. Todoroki, environmental lawyer and a soba obsessed weirdo. Inasa, physiotherapist and resident dumbass.”

Kirishima gives them all a wave before saying, “Kirishima, co-owner of Riot and the reason why Bakugou saw more unwarranted penises than strictly necessary in a lifetime.”

“Asshole,” Bakugou grumbles, earning him another laugh and a bashful hand ruffling the back of Kirishima’s head.

“Still so sorry about that man,” Kirishima offers, “everything’s definitely on the house for you all! Speaking of ordering-“ Kirishima moves on to explain their ordering system-

“You can scan the code with your camera app,” the redhead says, pointing at the barcode on the centrepiece of their table, “and it pulls up our bar and food menu. Just enter your order and your table number,” he points at the large digits on the side that glows a bright 15 back at them.

Inasa pulls his phone out to order. Before he leaves, Kirishima says, “Can I get your drink order before I go?”

Camie asks for a LIIT, Inasa gets a Soju bomb and Todoroki starts off with his usual- a cosmo.

“You good on that beer?” Kirishima asks Bakugou warmly, his eyes dancing with mirth.

“I’m fine,” he grumbles, sliding lower into his seat. “Maybe get me another, your choice?”

“Coming right up,” Kirishima beams before stepping away, and Bakugou’s heart splutters around his chest at the sight of sharp white teeth and cheek-aching grins.

“He’s so cute!” Camie squeals, stealing the last of his beer. “And he’s totes into you too.”

“I have to agree, he’s very attractive,” Todoroki says impassively.

“Certified hottie,” Inasa rounds up, flashing his own biceps for some reason.

Bakugou is so done, and they’ve been here all 5 minutes.

  “Kirishim- Kirishima, the beer is overflowing,” Ashido says, pushing him away and taking over. “God, you’re so gone for him, it’s almost embarrassing.”

Kirishima snaps out of his stupor and moves to take the glass back. Ashido hip checks him away.

“You’re being a little stupid, go help Satou with plating and take the food to lover boy’s table.”

“He has a name, you know,” Kirishima mumbles, but Ashido simply laughs, and Kirishima feels his neck and ears go warm.

Because who let Bakugou walk into his bar looking like that? Looking so damn gorgeous in his all-black get up and his perfect eye make-up and that fierce scowl?

Kirishima’s heart had pretty much stopped at the sight of him, and it was yet to regain its usual rhythm.

The redhead rests his forehead against the wall and mumbles, “I’m so screwed.”

“We know buddy,” Sero says, patting his back sympathetically, “we know.”

  For all that Bakugou hates outings and people and outings in places filled with people, he finds himself having a moderately good time.

Because the food is delicious if lacking a little heat, the alcohol is mixed perfectly and the music is fantastic, filtering through old rock classics with some alt stuff mixed in.

And then there’s Kirishima- tending the bar with ease, laughing along with his co-workers, and sending Bakugou wide, happy smiles that sets his entire face on fire.

“This place is awesome,” Camie whoops, banging another shot glass on the table before knocking it back with ease. Todoroki joins her, his impassive face not so much as twitching at the taste of strong tequila before he bites into a lime. Inasa is already beer drunk, cheeks dusky as he hums along to the music.

“Insufferable,” Bakugou mumbles around his 4th-ish beer. He likes to keep up his grumpy act till his last shred of dignity melts away cause of the alcohol, and he’s probably pretty hit already because he lets Camie pull him into her side with her arm around his shoulder, his nose suddenly privy to the scent of her mellow perfume.

“I love you guys,” Camie beams, picking up her beer and waving it in front of her. Todoroki and Inasa clink their drinks against it, and Bakugou silently waves his own bottle around before downing it.

“You guys good on- oh my god, are you Camie? THE Camie?”

It’s Pinky at their table and her eyes are so comically wide that Bakugou can’t help his snort of laughter. He feels Camie straighten up, but her arm around him stays, holding him close.

“Define THE Camie,” she says with a smile in her voice.

“The beauty blogger that I’ve only been following for the last 3 years, holy shit I love your videos.” And then suddenly, her eyes narrow on Bakugou before she snaps her fingers. “NO WONDER YOU LOOK FAMILIAR! You’re the angry blonde in all her videos!”

“Haan? You wanna go pinky?” Bakugou growls, moving to stand up. Camie keeps him firmly by her side, her laughter shaking them both.

“That’s us!” Camie says. Bakugou finally fights his way out of her grip and throws her a withering look, or his drunken attempt at one anyway. She winks, and he fake gags. “I don’t get recognized in public all that often LOL, this is fun.”

“Did you just say LOL in a verbal fucking conversation?”

“What do you mean you don’t get recognized; you literally have like 3.2million subscribers.”

Camie ignores Bakugou and shrugs at Pinky. “I guess my primary demographic aint here fam. Speaking of which,” she thrusts her hand out, “what’s your name?”

“Ashido Mina,” she says, taking her hand firmly. Camie introduces her to the others, and Bakugou looks back at the bar, disappointed to see that he can’t find Kirishima.

“Can I top you guys off?” Kirishima says, suddenly right next to their table, effectively startling the shit outta Bakugou.

Camie chirps an affirmative, Todoroki asks for a water and checks to see if Inasa’s breathing as the big olf continues to sleep, curled up in the corner of the booth.

“And you Bakubro?”

“Don’t call me that,” Bakugou frowns before adding, “I should probably stop, I’m already kinda tipsy.”

“Lightweight,” Camie teases.

Bakugou gives her the stink eye. “Woman, the one time I tried keeping up with you, I ended up in the hospital with alcohol poisoning and you didn’t have so much as a hangover, so fuck off.”

“Seriously?” Kirishima says, eyes wide.

“That’s amazing,” Ashido murmurs, her smile crooked and dangerous.

Bakugou. Hates. Everything.

“He had no lasting liver damage, we’re all fine,” Camie reassures before diving into a conversation with Mina about beauty hacks and good mascara brands and global warming.

Kirishima leans close to Bakugou, bathing him in that warm sandalwood scent. “How about I get you some water and one last beer? A Hefeweizen?”

Bakugou turns to look at him, and his breath hitches in his throat when he notices how close they are, when he sees just how red Kirishima’s eyes are, how the heat seems to radiate off his skin. He exhales in a rush and looks away, answering with a jerky nod.

Kirishima gives his shoulder a friendly squeeze – he’s so warm, his hand is fucking huge – before walking to the bar and picking their stuff up.

When pinky finally meanders away from their table to serve other customers, Camie leans her head on Bakugou’s shoulder and says, “We’ll leave soon, ok?”

Bakugou nods again, leaning some of his weight back into her. Todoroki catches his eye and flashes him a warm, tipsy smile, and if he returns it with one of his own, well, he’s drunk out of his skull and has approximately no fucks to give.

  Long after putting Bakugou and his posse in a cab, before which they insisted on paying pretty much the entire tab since they ate and drank a LOT, Kirishima and the rest are cleaning up when Ashido whips him with her cleaning rag.

Kirishima looks at her with betrayed eyes, “Wha-“

“Ei, you better text him again.”

“About what?” Kirishima says glumly. “I did what I said I would do, and I promised to leave him alone after that.”

“Boy please,” Ashido scoffs, roughly wiping down one of the tables, “ya’ll made such gooey eyes at each other all night, plus I’m pretty sure he paid the entire tab just so you could keep up whatever façade you guys have going on to cover up the fact that you have INSANE chemistry with one another.”

“Yeah, the tension was palpable bro,” Sero chimes in, throwing an arm around his waist. “I think you should text him too. He seemed really amusing, and his whole group was a riot.”

Kirishima rolls his eyes at the pun but smiles at them, feeling a new burst of energy in his limbs.

“You guys are absolutely right! Worst case, he blocks me. At least I won’t have any regrets.”

“Yeah boy, get it with that optimism.”  

  Bakugou wakes up to a slight headache, a mouth that tastes like ash, and a profound sadness that settles atop his sternum, weighing him down and pressing him into his mattress.

He sees the glass of water on his bedside table with ibuprofen placed neatly next to it and downs them both without so much as a second thought. As his brain slowly comes back online, he takes a moment to finally navigate his messy feelings and comes to a crushing realization-

Kirishima doesn’t have to text him anymore.

The redhead had said that he’d leave him alone after making it up to him, and yes, it was Bakugou’s standoffish nature that got them into that situation in the first place. And yes, Bakugou had paid the tab mostly because it was too high a bill to be footed by the bar and Bakugou made bank, but also because a small, minuscule part of him hoped that the gesture would make Kirishima insist on another outing or something to ‘make it up to him'.

The blonde doesn’t even bother to acknowledge the fact that he forgave Kirishima almost two days into texting him.

He almost avoids his phone out of fear alone and makes it through a whole cup of coffee and 3 chapters into a novel recommended by Deku before finally picking up his phone to check for emails and notifications.

He expects none from Kirishima.

So, of course, there are 3 from the redhead.

Bakugou’s heart leaps to his throat and he can’t seem to unlock his phone quite fast enough.

fuck he’s cute hi Bakugou, thank you for coming last night!!!

fuck he’s cute it was actually really cool 2 finally meet you. U didn’t have to pay the tab tho :’D

fuck he’s cute bt since u did, I still owe u. can we figure it out later??? Also, what did you think of the place???

Bakugou dumbass

Bakugou you’ve got a swanky place, I’ll give you that. Food was fucking good too. could be spicier.  

Bakugou you got cam completely hooked

Bakugou and yeah, you better make it up to me later. Asshole.

Kirishima replies a few hours later, just as Bakugou finishes up a yoga routine that stretches out his back in the best way possible.

fuck he’s cute :D :D :D :D :D

fuck he’s cute can’t wait

fuck he’s cute <image attached>

fuck he’s cute ruby says hi

It’s a selfie this time, not a picture of just the kitty. Bakugou can appreciate how cute the mutt is, but for once, he has no attention to spare her. Not when Kirishima’s eyes are crinkling around the edges from how hard he smiles up at the camera, not when he’s wearing a tank top with relaxed arm holes, showing off bulging muscles and hints of ink, and not when just the mere thought of him makes Bakugou’s stomach flop around uncontrollably.

He barely manages to reply coherently.

Bakugou the only bright spot in this shitty world

He presses his phone to his forehead and quietly contemplates just how gay he is. Camie pets his head on the way to the kitchen.

  It takes Bakugou some time to get used to waking up to Good Morning texts and a stream of random thoughts from Kirishima all day. The flutter in his stomach disappears a few weeks into talking to the redhead, instead replaced by a bone-deep warmth that always manages to make him feel a little better.

dumbass kirishima GOOOOOOOD MORNING :D

dumbass Kirishima someone threw up on my fave shoes last night

Bakugou HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

Bakugou suffer

dumbass Kirishima y u so mean to me ☹ ☹

Bakugou cause its fuckin hilarious

dumbass Kirishima ☹

Bakugou ugh

Bakugou <image attached> [it’s a picture of Bakugou’s balcony, and all his plants look vibrant green as the sun hits them just right]

dumbass Kirishima :D :D :D

dumbass Kirishima legit felt my serotonin just spike

dumbass Kirishima thxxxxxx

Bakugou whatever

Bakuguo dumbass

 ---

 Bakugou if I plan a murder can I count on your stupid muscles to help me move the body

dumbass Kirishima D:

dumbass Kirishima at least take me out to dinner b4 involving me in your crimes

dumbass Kirishima what a lack of manners

Bakugou stfu

dumbass Kirishima :”D :”D

dumbass Kirishima youre joking right?

dumbass Kirishima right??

dumbass Kirishima RIGHT?????

dumbass Kirishima BAKUGOU THIS IS A BAD TIME TO LEAVE ME HANGING BRO DO NOT DO THIS

Bakugou don’t call me bro

dumbass Kirishima THAT IS NOT THE POINT RIGHT NOW

Bakugou lol I didn’t do shit dumbass don’t worry

Bakugou or did I?

dumbass Kirishima BAKUGOU NO

 ---

 dumbass Kirishima <image attached> [it’s a gym selfie; Kirishima is crouching in front of the mirror shirtless, hair pulled into a bun atop his head. He’s glistening with sweat, and he’s got a more serious look on his face. He’s not actively flexing any muscle, but the pose makes his thighs, calves and biceps bulge. One hand holds the phone, the other is resting on his bent knee]

dumbass Kirishima working on deez gainz

Bakugou what time do you usually workout

dumbass Kirishima depends on my schedule actually

dumbass Kirishima I prefer the morning, but when I take the late night shift I usually go be4 work the next day

Bakugou hmmm

Bakugou let me know

Bakugou maybe we can go together

dumbass Kirishima :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D

Bakugou ugh I changed my mind

dumbass Kirishima :D :D :D :D

dumbass Kirishima no takebacksies

Bakugou fucking fantastic

dumbass Kirishima :D :D :D

 ---

 “So, let me get this straight- you guys gym together at least once a week, you talk every day, your stomach flutters at the mere thought of him and Cam swears he’s making googly eyes at you all the time, and you still haven’t asked each other out yet?”

Bakugou flips his phone off, “Fuck off Deku, don’t be a little shit.”

Midoriya’s face morphs into an amused smile on the other end of their facetime call, “Are you being bashful Kacchan? That’s adorable.”

“I’m hanging up.”

“NOOOOO,” Midoriya bemoans dramatically. “I can’t believe I’m missing all this.”

“Yeah, well, who the fuck told you to teach kids English halfway across the world dumbass?”

“I miss you too Kacchan,” Midoriya beams, making a heart with his hands.

“I truly loathe you.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Midoriya puts a few papers away before sighing. “So?”

“So what?”

“So, are you going to make a move? How do you plan on doing it?”

“I don’t,” Bakugou ruffles his hair and ducks his head to hide his rapidly warming cheeks, “I’m not asking him out Deku, fuck that.”

“Why not?” the asshole whines, eyes wide and innocent. “You deserve happiness Kacchan. Plus, he seems like a really nice guy.” Midoriya leans forward and adds in a whisper, “I’ve heard he has a fantastic butt.”

Bakugou rolls his eyes and flips him off again, “Fuck off, you can’t say that without actually meeting him.”

“I’ll be back before then. You guys better be dating already when I get there.”

“Stop telling me what to do, shitty Deku!”

“Never Kacchan, that’s what you do for the people you love.”

“Ugh, how are you so gross when you’re so far away, I hate you.”

Midoriya’s laugh sounds tinny over the phone speaker, lacking its usual body and warmth. Bakugou huffs again before picking his novel back up to read.

“Hi Zuku,” Camie calls out from over Bakugou’s shoulder. “You need to come back soon and help me with Kitkat, he refuses to make the first move!”

“Butt out of my fucking love life, you freaks!”

“Can’t butt out of something that doesn’t exist Kats,” Camie deadpans.

Bakugou feels extremely justified in flinging a stress ball right at her. The kitchen fills up with raucous laughter, from his phone and from the person standing in front of him, and Bakugou thinks that adding a deeper, warmer laugh to the mix, coming from a specific redhead might not be the worst thing in the world.

  Kiri bakugouuuuuuuuuuuuuuu

Bakugou what?

Kiri just wanted to say hi <3

Bakugou wth

Kiri we still on fr the gym tomorrow?

Bakugou obviously you dumbass

Bakugou I need you to spot me

Bakugou im beating my personal best tomorrow or im going to die trying

Kiri so manly :O :O :O

Kiri I’ve got you bruh

Bakugou don’t call me that

Bakugou and I know you do

Kiri <3 <3

 ---

 Bakugou <link>

Bakugou that playlist you were asking about

Kiri u da bomb katsuki

Bakugou katsuki huh?

Bakugou getting cocky I see

Kiri I mean, weve known each other for like 4 months now???

Kiri ur one of my closest pals

Kiri I don’t have to, I just thought ud like it more than bro

Bakugou I do like it more than bro

Bakugou eijirou

Bakugou I guess ur not terrible

Eijirou ????

Eijirou did you just?? pay me????? A compliment??

Eijirou who r u and wat have you done to katsuki?

Bakugou fuck you

Bakugou just fuck you

Eijirou <3 <3 <3

  Bakugou wakes up one morning, approximately 5 months after meeting Kirishima for the first time, with a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

His work goes smoothly. The coffee tastes potent and fresh, his body feels fine, his plants are thriving, Camie is busy with her own deadlines and therefore not bugging him, even the sun is mellow and warm; the perfect weather.

The pit in his stomach worsens with every hour.

It doesn’t help that all of his messages to Kirishima have gone unanswered; he hasn’t even been online all day. In the months that they’ve communicated, he’s never gone a day without texting the man, and now it’s like he fell off the face of the Earth.

When it gets closer to 6 in the evening, Bakugou decides to call if Kirishima doesn’t get in touch himself. Because the pit in his stomach is making him nauseous, and he needs to know if the redhead is ok if only for the sake of his own damn health.

He gets a call from an unknown number at 5:20 in the evening. The pit in his stomach becomes a yawning chasm as he picks up the call.

“Hello?”

“Bakugou, it’s Ashido, from the bar.”

Bakugou pulls in a deep breath. “Where is Kirishima?”

“Um, there was an incident last night, at Riot.” She sighs deeply before continuing, “Kiri got jumped in the alley outside by a bunch of really drunk homophobic assholes that saw him turn down some guy’s number. He actually fought them off for the most part, but he’s sustained a broken nose and some fractured ribs. We’re at the hospital right now.”

Bakugou sinks to the ground, his stomach plummeting with him. “Are you fucking serious right now? Fuck-“

“I’ll text you the hospital details, ok? I’m sorry we didn’t call sooner, between talking to his moms and the hospital folks, it slipped my mind.”

“I’ll be there,” Bakugou says, standing up on shaky feet and stumbling back to his room. “Just don’t leave him alone.”

“Never in a million years.”

They hang up and Bakugou changes, hails a cab, and gets to the hospital in a complete daze.

His affection for the redhead, brimming and spilling from every crevice, makes itself evident when he lays eyes on him in the hospital bed and feels a surge of protectiveness. He wants to kill the people that did this, he wants to gather Kirishima in his arms and hold him tight, he wants to crawl into bed with him and talk about stupid shit and see him smile again.

“He’s pretty high on pain meds right now,” Ashido says from somewhere behind him, pointing to his IV lines, “so he’s been saying really funny stuff. The doctors did a full evaluation and said he should recover completely in 5ish weeks.”

Bakugou nods and swallows thickly. Ashido squeezes his arm before leaving the hospital room, shutting the door behind her softly.

Kirishima hasn’t seen him yet, so Bakugou approaches his bed carefully before placing a hand on the guardrail. The noise pulls Kirishima’s attention towards him, and Bakugou’s gut tightens when those large, warm eyes go completely soft at the sight of him.

“Kassaki~” Kirishima slurs, his smile large and dopey.

“You absolute dumbass,” Bakugou chokes out, his hand moving from the rail to grip Kirishima’s tightly. Kirishima’s fingers twine with his own with practised ease and his smile turns gooey.

“Hi Kats, you look beautiful today.”

Bakugou half-laughs, half-sobs and rubs his eyes fiercely. Kirishima’s face is a bit bruised, and there’s a huge bandage on his nose, but he doesn’t look nearly as bad as Bakugou had first feared. The pit in his stomach finally calms, slowly loosening until he can breathe normally again.

“Shut up Eiji,” Bakugou grumbles, sitting down on the chair beside the bed. He leaves his hand in Kirishima’s.

“Ok,” Kirishima agrees easily. It takes 10 seconds for him to break the silence again.

“Hey Kats?”

“What?”

“Are we dating?”

Bakugou startles at that, eyes snapping over to Kirishima’s. He doesn’t look accusatory or hurt or weirded out or anything- merely curious.

“No, we’re not.”

“Oh.” Kirishima frowns, “Why not?”

Bakugou huffs out a small laugh, “Because we’re both idiots.”

“Oh,” the redhead says, then nods. “That kinda tracks.”

“HEY!”

Kirishima’s smile becomes dopey again, eyes crinkling in the most endearing way.

“I really like you Kats. You’re so smart and funny and you always smell like fabric softener, and you’re just like. Really pretty.”

Bakugou feels his face heat up completely, his grip on Kirishima’s hand tightening.

“Just rest, you dumbass,” Bakugou says weakly, his entire body too hot for comfort. He watches Kirishima’s smile become something warm and loving in a way that hits his heart, and he doesn’t let go of the redhead’s hand, right up until the end of visiting hours.

When he exits the hospital alongside Ashido, he feels the last of his energy drain.

“I cant believe we didn’t get to him sooner,” Ashido mumbles, rubbing at her eyes fiercely. “The bar was noisy, and he just wanted to dump out some trash. Hanta noticed he was gone a while before we went out back and found him punching the last dude.”

Bakugou purses his lips. Truth be told, he cant believe Kirishima had gotten so badly hurt so close to his own bar, and he’s pissed as fuck that the idiot brigade had even let it happen, but the sincerity in Ashido’s voice tugs at his chest painfully.

“I’m sure he’ll forgive you.” Bakugou laughs humorlessly. “He’ll probably say there’s nothing to forgive in the first place.”

Ashido’s laugh is hollow, “That’s our Eijirou.” She looks at Bakugou again. “You coming tomorrow?”

He flashes her his best sneer. “You best believe I’m going to come by every single fucking day till he’s discharged.”

Ashido’s smile becomes a little more genuine, a little more well-rounded.

“I’m really glad he has you.” Her voice goes all soft and gross as she continues, “You mean a LOT to him, in case you didn’t already know.”

“Fuck off,” Bakugou mumbles, before waving her off and walking away.

Because he does know.

He also knows he’s falling madly in love with him, and that he’s completely and utterly screwed.

And he finds that he really doesn’t mind all that much. Some people, he rationalizes, are worth the horrible butterflies and the too hot too cold feelings down the back of his spine.

Some people, he realizes, are worth loving with everything you’ve got.

  It takes Kirishima five weeks of house arrest to recover completely. Bakugou spends every weekday and a few of the weekends with him, staying over more often than not. He fusses over the redhead, forces him to take his medication on time, and cooks him everything under the sun.

“You’re spoiling me,” the redhead whines when Bakugou serves him what smells like the best mapo tofu he’s ever going to have.

The blonde grins triumphantly, “You’re damn right I am.”

They bicker and banter constantly, but they also curl up and marathon old bond movies at night. Kirishima goes over the bar’s paperwork while Bakugou works off his couch, and they take turns making the coffee. Ruby falls in love with Bakugou and curls up on his chest every chance she gets, and Bakugou laughs at Kirishima’s look of betrayal. The redhead’s couch is ridiculously comfortable, and he leaves his memory foam pillow with the blonde.

“You refuse to take my bed,” he grumbles, “so you damn well better accept my stupid pillow.”

Bakugou’s neck thanks the redhead profusely.

It’s new and weird, living with someone for the first time. Kirishima’s posse are in and out through the day, and Camie comes by just as often, bringing a change of clothes and gossip with her. Todoroki drops in with some high-quality tequila sometimes and Inasa brings his infectious energy, and through all of this, Kirishima remains in high spirits, even if he goes a little stir crazy sometimes.

It’s new and it’s weird, going from casual touches to more loving ones, more comforting ones. It becomes commonplace for Bakugou to rest his head between Kirishima’s shoulder blades on the days that he has a bad time at work. It’s normal for Kirishima to place his head on Bakugou’s lap while they watch shark documentaries. It’s easy for them to bump knees and press their calves together while enjoying their morning coffee.

It’s new and it’s weird and it’s amazing.

Because Bakugou finds himself falling in love with the little things. The way Kirishima sticks his tongue out when he’s smashing the PS5 controller during an especially intense game of Mario party, the way he makes the coffee with a sleepy smile on his face, the way he hums off-key to a song that’s stuck in his head, the way he can understand Bakugou- can differentiate between his frustrated fuck, his bashful fuck, his angry fuck, his sleepy fuck.

And how he accepts it all without so much as a hitch in his step.

Bakugou watches himself fall in love, slowly, and then all at once.

  “How is it that he lived with you for almost 5 weeks and you STILL didn’t ask him out? Or kiss him stupid? Or something?”

Sero has a finger pinching the bridge of his nose, the other flexing loosely in front of his chest as he tries to fathom the stupidity of two people that could not be more into each other if they tried.

“I, I uh-“ Kirishima hangs his head, “I have no excuse.” He sighs deeply. “I was scared he’d give me a pity answer cause I was injured and everything.”

Ashido looks over her shoulder with incredulous eyes. “Are you kidding me?”

“What?”

“Eiji, I know you love us so like, if any of us were hurt like this you’d take care of us till we were better too. But do you think someone like BAKUGOU would practically move into someone’s house to make sure they were ok if he wasn’t nuts about them? Really?”

Kirishima’s face flushes, and he waves her away. “I don’t want to read into it. He’s just a really, really, really good guy. And what we have is good, it’s great! We’re bros. Pals. Friends. It’s all good.”

Ashido continues to stare at him for another moment before throwing her hands up and yelling, “BOYS!” She stomps into the kitchen to help Satou with prep for the day.

They continue to stock up the bar, Kirishima assigned to prepping limes and the ice machine, when the door opens and someone steps in.

“Sorry, we’re not op- Bakugou?”

And there stands the blonde with the biggest bouquet of flowers – chrysanthemums and sunflowers – that Kirishima has ever seen. The redhead distantly hears the sound of a door close behind him, and suddenly they’re alone, the tension positively stifling.

“Bakugo-“

“Go on a date with me.”

Kirishima sucks in a startled breath, his heart hammering in his chest.

“Go on a date. With me,” Bakugou repeats, his neck and ears tinging the loveliest shade of red. “The romantic kind. Where we dress up and get food and drinks and fight over the bill and walk each other to the door and get super awkward before we kiss. All that shit.”

Kirishima isn’t sure how it happens- one moment he’s on this side of the bar, the next, he’s jumping across and gathering Bakugou into a tight embrace, mindful of his newly healed ribs but still unwilling to release the blonde until Bakugou returns his hug, burying his face into Kirishima’s chest.

“Is that a yes?” Bakugou mumbles when they finally pull away, his hands fisted in Kirishima’s shirt.

“In every possible language out there,” Kirishima answers, ducking down to softly kiss Bakugou on the cheek. He laughs as the blonde cusses and shoves him away and laughs even harder when Bakugou’s own smile covers his entire face, bright and open and oh so breathtaking.

That smile is Kirishima’s and Kirishima’s alone.

  Eiji hiiiiiiiiiiii

Bakugou I swear to god Ei

Bakugou if you’re late for our first date I will find you

Eiji and give me a kiss? :*

Bakugou I don’t kiss people that don’t have good time management

Bakugou so fuck off

Eiji still so mean to me ☹

Eiji I want that kiss tho

Eiji so ill be ready

Eiji promise

Bakugou good

Eiji  <3

Bakugou <3

Eiji :D :D :D :D :D :D

Eiji YOU LIKE ME ENOUGH TO SEND EMOJIS HU H <3333

Bakugou it will never happen again

Bakugou so fuck right off

Eiji :”D

Bakugou im outside

Eiji be right there

Eiji <3  

[blackvelvetwriteson]

𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋

                               (  ~ Villain Kirishima Eijirou x Kidnapped Hero-Turned-Villain Gender Neutral Reader Insert ~ )

━━━━━━━━━━━━ ━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

GENRE: Smut and Fluffy Fluff!                                                                  

FANDOM: Boku No Hero Academia (My Hero Academia)

TRIGGER WARNINGS: SMUT! This time it’s pretty intense. God complex, drugs usage/mention, abuse, biting/marking, dubcon, cumflation, dacryphilia, somnophilia, degradation, blood play. There’s also some angst if you look hard enough.

SUMMARY: REQUESTED!! Requested by: @itzmekuka​    “𝘊𝘢𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰 𝘢 𝘒𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘢 𝘟 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘝𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘬𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘢 𝘬𝘪𝘥𝘯𝘢𝘱𝘴 𝘗𝘳𝘰-𝘏𝘦𝘳𝘰 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘺 ( 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 ✨👄🍆💦) 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘢 𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘯 _ 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘥𝘵       ~𝘶𝘭𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘢”

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Ah! This was actually so fun for me to write and I’m absolutely SO sorry if this is so intense. I read it over and over and over and it even bordered a little intense for me as an author. If this made you uncomfortable, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE let me know and I’ll write a different version that’s not so intense! I’m also VERY sorry it took so long, Tumblr didn’t want to show me that you sent me a request!

WORD COUNT: 6548

| 𝘉𝘕𝘏𝘈 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 | 𝘉𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘝𝘦𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘵 𝘕𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 |

(Headers are mine, but the art inside of them are not! Please don’t steal or repost without credit!)

     The city around you was crumbling; the one you swore to protect as a pro hero. You were one of the better knowns sitting at the impressive spot of rank 5. That’s why everybody was relying on you, everybody that was successfully evacuated eyes were locked on the news trying to see if you’d escape safely or save their precious city. The scent of charred tree bark and burning trees filled your nose as you ran; that is what you had to do at this point. It was only you on the scene against Shigaraki who’d gone crazy, Dabi, and Toga. Dabi, in his usual fashion had his dead, icy eyes fixated on you, alternating his hands in his pockets as he torrented wave after wave of melting blue flames in front of him, off to the side, giving no time for breath, no time for anybody that could’ve been alive to escape. Some of the flames licked your body, some of your hero costume burned off, your skin burning as blood ran down the tender scalded bits. Keep running. 

     That’s all that was on your mind, your head spinning as you inhaled ash and the thick smoke of the area around you, stumbling as your adrenaline started to give up on you. Why were they after you? They all seemed so focused on you, all of them from the start beelining it towards you the second their feet hit the ground. Your eyes started to flutter and you found it hard to stay awake, Toga appearing from the trees with a hellish smile on her face as she fought trying to lure you back into the inferno. You lazily tried to dodge every time she swung her knife, dealing a few weak hits that at least made her a little disorientated, palming her ribcage making her cry out, but in return, she plunged one of her blades deep in your forearm, her crazed smile flitting to the flood of blood running down your arm.

     “Arigato gozaimasu (Y/N)- Chan~” She giggled as you tried to fight her off. “Maybe we can become goooood good good good friends!” She licked her lips as she drooled, crushing your forearms into the ground with her feet. “You’re being the hero you WANT to be, to me,” she said as she admired the capsule full of blood. You tried moving your head to stay awake, the soot coating your lungs not helping. Your body started to feel tingly and you couldn’t help but to try to fight even after Toga had hopped off into hiding. “She’s all yours~” Is all you heard; it was Toga for sure, but you didn’t know who she was talking to. Your vision was hazy now, your body feeling heavy like you were chained to the floor. You saw a familiar… Almost… Figure towering over you with hungry bright red eyes, his tongue running over his sharp pearly white teeth. From where you were right now, it was an intimidating sight, you tried to squirm and get away, turning on your stomach, crawling helplessly, shivers running up your spine as you heard the sadistic chortle that was brewing in the anonymous figure’s chest.

     “Where are you going, (Y/N)?! You know you can’t escape me,” he snorted as he walked towards you. Your body froze at the familiar voice that carried so much bass you were rattled to your core. “Ooh, you remember now, huh?!” He chuckled as he grabbed the back of your head and he pushed your face into the ground, standing over you as he stared at you with a ravenous expression. “All of this is for YOU, (Y/N),” he growled as he ran his fingers through your hair, yanking your head back, tears filling your eyes as you yelped out and looked at your destroyed city. “What kinda hero are you, (Y/N)? They’re supposed to depend on you but you ran… Just like that day…. You ran away from me,” he hummed in a sot of annoyed remembrance. “I NEEDED YOU, AND YOU RAN,” he yelled as he yanked your head back, turning you onto your back again so that you could look up at him looming over you. “Now I have this ugly ass scar… Right over my nose… And down my arm… Do you see it? Hm? Maybe we should get some more LIGHT in here so we CAN see it, right?” His eyes were crazed, you didn’t know him anymore- hell, you thought he’d died! At least you could sort of live with that- kind of. You shook your head, unable to speak, your tongue heavy. “HEY DABI,” he called out with a soft laugh. “GET OVER HERE, WE NEED SOME LIGHT!” He waited a moment hearing no response, slow footsteps approaching before suddenly stopping, a sudden wave of heat blanketing your body as you flinched, some of the stray embers singeing your hair. You winced as he held you down, able to see his scars that he was talking about. You were going to attempt speaking, but you couldn’t, his hand wrapped around your neck, palming your airway only allowing you to let out choked cries. “See it now, (Y/N)?… I know you do… And even after all of that- how you fucking left me and then told everybody I died; that’s cold, (Y/N)… But I still can’t help but to love you, yknow… Even though you let me get kidnapped…. Beat up… And then told everyone I died but I mean come on baby,” he laughed darkly as he looked over at Dabi. “That was probably the best thing you coulda did because this is the best thing that has ever happened in my life! Well… Aside from catching you again… Even if you’re choking… But I don’t want to hurt you, no! Of course not! Actually, I say we CELEBRATE, right? A momentous occasion where I was risen from the dead! And now YOU’RE gonna have your dance with the Devil… Whether you like it or fucking not,” he smirked down at you. “So resilient… I’m surprised you’re still awake! Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you too bad… I LOVE YOU after all… After everything, after all is said and done. I haven’t lost my chivalry, I’m just the most chivalrous VILLAIN instead of a hero because I realized how fucking fake all of you are… Only getting faker the higher up in rank you climb and for what? All you ever did was run so how the FUCK are you at number five? I don’t know… Maybe the same reason that All Might was number one for a decade or two by lying,” he sneered as he giggled and he picked you up, letting your feet dangle in the air. This was it, you thought, the moment you were going to die. “You never were the model hero… And I still have faith in you… So… Eh.. We’ll deal with that when the moment comes… But no matter what, HERO, you’re going to love me back,” he growled as he pulled you closer, pressing a rough kiss into your lips, biting your lip so hard it’d started to bleed. You let out a strangled squeak, your body going limp and feeling warm. Somehow you felt an odd sense of comfort feeling him kiss you, feeling his teeth gnaw at your lip, feeling his tongue explore your mouth. You’d let yourself go and gave him the moan he wanted to hear so bad. “You like that baby,” he whispered against your lips with a gravelly giggle. “Yeah you do… You’re gonna get more of that where we’re going…. Don’t make too much noise now,” he laughed as he set you down and punched you HARD in the face causing you to pass out. He caught your limp body and draped you over his shoulder nodding in Dabi’s direction signaling that he got what he came for and they could go back to base.

—

     To the best of your knowledge, not too much time had passed since you’d been taken and you woke up in a daze, your whole body numb and trembling. You groaned softly, swaying from side to side, chained with your arms crossed over your body, chained to your ankles, then further restrained to the floor with a brace around your arms to make sure you didn’t slump over. You were unaware of where you were and who was by you, the soft voices sounding distant until your hair was snatched back again and you opened your eyes fully. “Wake up, Pebble,” you heard his gravelly voice in your ear as you came to, the harsh slaps to your cheeks not necessarily helping your cause. You allowed your eyes to focus on the man in front of you. You didn’t know if it was just you or whatever drugs they’d pumped you full of in your time in the dank room, but he looked almost angelic as he loomed over you. You, of course, already loved him and thought he was the best thing ever when you went to school together, but now… So many years later… His black/brown roots of his hair were starting to show, gradienting into the iconic red you’d grown accustomed to. Since his hair had spent so long getting tamed, his mane was full with fluffy spikes- some drooping, some not, going every which way on his head in such a way that made him look that much better- practically blanketing his broad shoulders, his sharp eyes staring condescendingly down at you. He was wearing a suit shirt that was a satiny red and was just begging to burst from his muscular body, seemingly freshly ironed black jeans to match along with black and red boots… And… Fingerless gloves. He licked over his sharp teeth as he noticed you checking him out and he let out a hollow laugh. “Like whatcha see? Hm? Am I still the manliest you’ve ever laid eyes on,” he laughed as he watched you squirm, his hand only twisting in your hair causing you to cry out. “Well?! ANSWER ME,” he growled out before planting a harsh slap across your face causing you to jolt against your restraints. Tears immediately pricked your eyes as you looked up at him.

“K-Kirishima,” you whispered out weakly, your throat parched from before, a cold sweat having broken out on your body. “H-How long have I been here…” Your eyes frighted rolling back into your head, the drugs having gotten to you a little more causing you to wince. Honestly, you felt like you were going to throw up, but you couldn’t help but to keep your eyes on him.

“You still didn’t answer my question,” he hummed as he stood up and paced the dimly lit room in front of you. “What a shame… Oh well, I mean it’s more fun for me- that I get to have… With you… My adorable little slave…” He looked over at you with a side eye and he smirked a little, huffing a small laugh through his nostrils before swaying his head to get his bangs out of his face. “You’re a fool to challenge a god,” he said lowly. “Especially one as… Well.. The best one. Myself…”

A god? Who the hell was talking to you right now? This definitely wasn’t Kirishima Eijiro… Not the one you met all of those years ago at UA… Not the one you were training to become a hero with. Who the fuck was this? You ignored that one pang that struck you that told you it was kind of hot that he thought of himself that way. You shook your head and hissed softly at the surge of pain that shot through your body. “I’m not your s-sla-“ mid sentence, you were interrupted with a slap that made you cry out again, your body broken, bruised, bloody, and sore… Your lungs were sore, everything was sore. You could barely even stay awake. He kneeled in front of you and tilted your chin tenderly so that he could admire the tears rolling down your face but also the nice bruises he left you.

“You are EXACTLY what I say you are… You’re the stupid pitiful hero that let yourself get caught by a dangerous man like myself, baby,” he said softly, practically straddling your lap as he fed you another gently, loving kiss. He didn’t bite your lip, he didn’t even pull away quickly. He pushed a soft hum into your lips as he trembled and allowed his hand to go to the wall next to your head. “You liked that… Didn’t you,” he murmured against your lips drunkenly, his eyes halfway open gazing into yours, and suddenly a pang of lust and… Adoration surged your body. You didn’t even know that you nodded until you saw his reaction. “Yeaaahh… I know you did… They all usually do,” he teased, just to get a rise out of you. And it worked. He popped his knuckles as he stood up and he popped his neck too, spinning on his heel as he picked up a small remote. “Let’s play the quiet game baby,” he said as he pressed on the remote, your legs trembling as you tried to grasp what happened. It was a vibrator lodged deep inside of you, of course, and your legs had started trying to give out. You also heard metal clinking together as Kirishima removed his belt, a big metal red R in the middle of it. “Here’s what’s gonna happen,” he smirked at you as he undid your restraints to the floor and he led you over to a chair, pushing you to fall into it. You were bent over the seat and he just admired the sight, you could hear the heavy breathing behind you accompanied by the small growls as you tried to stay awake long enough to know what was going on.

“You… Are gonna be bent over…. L-Like that,” he said with the occasional shaky breath, his own bulge forming and pressing against his jeans just seeing you bent over the chair so helplessly, your uneven breathing escaping into the air around the two of you. “And I’m gonna control this toy however I damn well please,” he said as he upped the level on the vibrator. “I put it in when you were sleeping! I figured you wouldn’t mind,” he said as he walked around so that you could see him, his bulge and all. “And… While I’m controlling this, you’re not gonna say anything, make a single noise, or even so much as breathe the wrong way or…” He showed off his sleek leather belt with a soft laugh. “You see this beautiful ‘R’ right in the middle here? It’s gonna brand that sweet ass of yours… And I’ll take pictures and videos and show EVERYBODY just who you belong to… Little hero slut,” he spat as he tugged your hair back to make you look up at him again. “Do you understand me,” he growled as he slapped your ass with his hardened hand. You whimpered softly and watched as his arrogant stare became smug as he stood up and he rolled up his sleeves to reveal his muscular, veiny forearms. You couldn’t help but to shake your ass in anticipation. He let out a low groan and he bit his lip as he watched you squirm and shake for him. At this point, he figured it was just the drugs that were pumped into you kicking in again, but to you it was much more than that. You liked him even when y’all went to school together, and that only intensified once you both became pro heroes. Then he fell off of the face of the earth and it was told that he died in action. This was your first day back in work since then and this is what happened? He was alive? And.. He had you in his grasp. You were scared to lose him again, and you wanted him to know how much he meant to you… But the drugs also made your body feel heavy and it made your mind hazy how just his words had an effect on you. You caught the glint of that pretty metallic red ‘R’ on his belt and you couldn’t help but to drool over him. He noticed how your eyes were fixated on his bulge and he smirked a little with a soft grunt, his fingers tactfully unzipping his pants as he tilted his head and licked over his sharp teeth again.

“Oh I forgot how much of a needy slut you were,” he whispered softly as he let out another soft laugh. “You want to suck my cock don’t you? Yeah I know you do,” he said softly, slowly pulling his cock from his jeans, stroking it as he used his other hand to force your head back. “Open up,” he growled, slapping you before forcing himself inside of your mouth. Instantly, you teared up both from the hard hit he dealt but also from how quickly he filled your mouth and all of those sweet groans he was letting out for you. You whined as you felt him slowly thrusting his hips into your mouth, forcing himself down your throat more and more. “Oh fuck,” he gasped out quietly, starting to move the chair a little as he pushed your head into him harder and faster, slowly starting to find his rhythm. “Y-Yeah,” he whispered softly as he upped the level of the vibrator making your legs give out right under you. “I know it’s big, but you don’t have to show it all on your face,” he slurred out as he twisted his hand in your hair again making you whimper and whine as you choked on his cock, your face drenched with soot and your tears as you let him use your throat as his fleshlight. “Deeper,” he moaned out as his back arched. “Take me deeper!” He smacked your ass with his belt and he moaned at the sounds, the sound of the leather hitting your skin, that big red R in the middle smacking against your ass bruising it, that choked moan you let out as he sucked in a sharp breath. “Choke on it, choke… Ch-Choke… On… It,” he whimpered out as tears pricked his own eyes. “F-FUCK! Who would’ve thought you were so good at s-sucking d-dick,” he moaned out as he lolled his head to one side, staring down at you with a soft smile; a ray of sweet light breaking through that rough exterior of his that came with being a villain. He gently caressed your face, his thumb swiping your warm tears before he forced himself further into your throat, watching the bulge form and then disappear again. “Suck it harder! S-Suck it l-like it’s your fucking god, (Y/N),” he growled as he forced you as deep as he could go, holding you down on his cock, feeling you choke on it, taking in all of your gags, watching as you drooled, feeling as you squirmed and tried to suck up all of the saliva you could.

“Oh hell yeah,” he whimpered out as he shuddered. “Oh fuck fuck fuck,” he whined as he smacked your ass with the belt again. You felt like you were about to pass out and your eyes rolled back into your head before you whined softly as he pulled his cock out of your mouth. “Do you like the taste of your god’s precum,” he growled as he stroked himself slowly. “I know you do,” he whined as he forced himself into your mouth again, and you looked up at him with soft whimpers of protest. “I KNOW YOU DO,” he whimpered as he smacked your ass with that belt again, watching the R brand itself into your skin. He felt you tighten up and he pulled your head back into him, bottoming out inside of your mouth again as his eyes crossed. “F-Fuuucckk,” he whimpered out quietly as he threw his head back. “I-I’M YOUR F-FUCKING GOD,” he moaned out as he tried not to cum so quick. “S-Suck it l-like- O-Oh fuck,” he groaned out as he caressed the back of your head before filling your mouth and throat with his cum. He curled his fingers into your hair and pushed you down on him more, his eyes rolling back into his head as his hips jolted and he orgasmed, his whole body tense as he panted, trying to catch his breath. “D-Don’t… L-Let a s-single… F-Fucking… Drop… Out,” he said shakily, slowly pulling out of your mouth, your gaze locked on him and how perfect he looked in this state of ecstasy.  You watched the cum and saliva that was left on his cock drip to the ground as he reeled and brought himself back, looking down at you smirking at your dazed fucked out expression. “Oh baby,” he whispered softly as he kneeled in front of you, tilting your chin up a little. “You… Cute little thing,” he said with a small, sweet smile- even softer than the one he gave you before. You looked up at him and made soft chittering noises as you accepted the soft act and you tried to reach out to him but couldn’t.

“I wanna see it in your mouth,” he said softly as he squished your cheeks and watched some of the cum drip down your face. “Open wide… Show me how you take the cum of a fucking god,” he whispered harshly as you opened your mouth for him and stuck your tongue out. He grunted and closed his eyes as he tried to keep himself from getting too turned on again and he let out a shaky breath. “You really are a needy hero whore,” he said with a smirk, running his fingers through your hair, smiling at all of the cum dripping down your face. “You dirty… Filthy hero slut…” He stood up and snapped his belt with a soft growl and he hummed softly. “Fuck… This feels so good… I know what you want,” he said as he strolled behind you. “Tell me how bad you fucking want it,” he said as he slapped the belt across your ass again with a condescending laugh watching you spasm on the chair, unable to move. “Ah… You and those useless legs.. Can’t even hold you up- now you’ll have bruised knees. What a shame,” he teased as he struck you again.

“P-PLEASE,” you cried as you sniffed back tears, trying to arch your back just squirming against the chair. “I-I w-wanna f-feel you I-inside,” you whimper out as you let your head hang. “P-Please! F-Fuck me p-please,” you whined as your eyes burned with tears. “I want to feel y-you d-deep inside… Please!” You wanted to look back at him but your body wouldn’t let you. You heard him shuffle behind you, hoping that you’d be able to feel him inside of you, but you felt his large, warm hand caressing your inner thighs instead and you fell weaker as your breath stopped.

“Aw… What nice begging you did… But it looks like someone came without asking,” he growled as he stood up again, giving you a half second to breathe before he dealt another harsh slap, ‘R’s bruised into your skin. He gave a breathy groan and he stretched his arms out as he looked down at your bruised skin. “Looks like you’re getting punished… It wouldn’t be manly of me otherwise,” he said with a soft sigh, adjusting his shirt before dealing you slap after slap, blow after blow, soft groans and giggles of content punctuating each and every single one. “Oh yeah,” he whispered softly as he smirked. “Tell me how much you love it when I spank that sexy ass of yours,” he commanded as he shuddered. At this point, you were too out of it to speak, not being able to muster up more than soft mewls. He couldn’t help but to smirk as he suddenly shoved his cock inside of you, your eyes widening as you felt your insides conform to his shape.

“K-KIRI-“ you were cut off by your own pants and moans before feeing his fingers in your mouth. He bottomed out inside of you, already, and of course, there was a little bit of blood because of how sudden it was. He watched on with soft growls, slipping a hardened hand under the shirt to your hero costume that was already ripped. A small tug made quick work of the shirt, your back completely exposed to him. He let out soft whines as you constricted around him, subtly grinding your hips after you got over the pain of him suddenly rutting inside of you. You sucked on his fingers with soft mewls, drooling more, practically dumb from every single ounce of attention he payed you.

“Yeah,” he whispered softly as he lowered his lips against the skin of your lower back, taking in your scent, his eyes closing as he bit his lip, placing soft kisses on your lower back. Your eyes crossed as you tried arching your back into him. “Suck my fingers just like that,” he whispered, smiling as he watched the goosebumps run like waves over your skin. He continued to feed you soft kisses against your back, taking his time as he travelled up, his hands wandering over your body slowly, his hold commanding but still soft. If he wanted you to move, you did, and honestly you were fine with it. “Stop moving,” he commanded as he closed his eye, licking over the spots he kissed too. His warm tongue made you slick with precum, loving how warm he made you feel. You couldn’t do anything but moan around his fingers as he forced you to cockwarm him. He made sure to take extra care of you, gently working his way up your body as his hands followed and massaged every inch of you resting at your waist as he made it to your neck. It sounded like he was having trouble breathing, giving you short deep thrusts as he kissed at your neck. “O-Oh fuck you’re so tight,” he slurred out drunkenly as he closed his eyes. “F-Fuck fuck fuck…” He licked along your neck, grazing your skin with his teeth, still teasing you as the drugs made you almost pass out as well as how your insides conformed to the shape of his cock. “Just like that,” he whispered against your skin as he nibbled the sides of your neck. “Tell me how bad you want me to fuck you,” he commanded again, slapping your ass hard with his hand this time. It made you jolt and you let out a choked moan, sucking harder on his fingers with tears still running down your face. “Only good slaves get what they ask for,” he growled and you still felt the vibrator pulsating inside of you making you light headed. You drooled around his fingers as you gave him soft mewls and he only laughed at how fucked out you were already.

“Too much already? I haven’t even done anything to you yet,” he slurred out in your ear with a delighted grin. It felt like he was pulling out to give you some time to breathe, but he instantly snapped his hips back up into you with a loud moan, his teeth digging into the nape of your neck as you yelped out weakly. The hurt was accompanied by intense pleasure that made you quiver all the way down to your core, the condescending laughs and growls that followed making you light headed almost seeing stars. “Take it,” he moaned out as he kissed the bite in the nape of your neck which was now covered in beads of blood.

“K-Kiri-“ you choked out as you crossed your eyes. “P-Please! ’S t-too much,” you whine as you tremble and convulse on the chair under him, happily smushed into his body. “P-Please! S-Stop,” you whimpered out weakly, but he was still pounding deep inside of you, one of his large hands palming your neck from behind, his fingers crushing your trachea so you only let out choked cries and whimpers, your legs practically numb.

“Sorry! Dirty little h-hero sluts d-don’t get to say no!” He used his free hand to dig into your skin making you bleed more. “The h-harder I choke you, the more you t-tighten around me! W-What if the public knew what a whore for villain cock you were, hm? And you’re s-supposed to be a hero,” he scoffed as his bruising grip tightened around your neck, making your tongue loll out of your mouth as your eyes crossed and you struggled to stay awake. With each thrust he seemed like he was getting rougher, you were unable to move, you couldn’t even moan anymore, you were left with your labored breathing unable to fight it anymore, not being able to stick through his death grip he had on your neck. It seemed like one harsh movement of his thumb would break your neck, but you had no more resolve to fight it. “F-Fuck yeah! Ah fuck my cock,” he groaned out as he let your neck go feeling you fall limp under him. He let you stay passed out as he abused your hole how he wanted to, his smirk only growing as his tongue pushed out of his mouth, drooling as he drove himself crazy using you how he wished. “F-Fuck! Fuck I’m gonna c-cum s-so fucking hard,” he growled, digging his fingers into the bruised, tender bite mark, your blood smearing over his hand. He couldn’t help but to lick his hand clean, his gaze locked on your limp body as he thrashed you about, but he wanted you to be awake when he filled you up.

He gave you a harsh, wet slap and pulled your hair back, smirking at all of the bruises on your body that was for him. “R-RISE AND SHINE,” he growled as he slapped your ass harshly as he threw his head back and let out a loud laugh, crushing his chuckles with a growl as he forced your head to one side, licking up your neck until he made it to your ear, his stern tone making you wake up a little more. “I said wake. Up. Slut,” he whispered as he bit his lip. “I won’t ask nicely next time,” he growled as he pulled you down on his cock more. “F-FUCK,” He groaned out as he ducked his arm under one of yours, his arm pressing against your chest, easily pulling you up so that your back was rested against his toned chest, forcing you to bounce on him, forcing you to take him balls deep inside. “Oh this f-feels s-so m-much b-better,” he moaned in your ear with a soft growl, his nails digging into your skin marking you, watching the beads of blood roll down your body as he continued to rail into you, his own moans breathless. You were halfway awake as you clenched around him and let your arms fall helplessly still unable to move on your own. He whispered in your ear right before he came inside of you.

“O-Oh f-fuck,” he gasped as he kissed the side of your neck gently before growling into your ear. “Y-Yeah you like that huh? Hm?” He slapped your ass hard, his nails digging into your tender thigh. His hand forced your legs open as he nipped at you, scratched at you, growled into you, his face red, his body coated in sweat. “Yeah you do,” he whispered softly. “Y-You l-like it when a-a m-man takes control, huh? Hm? Yeah you do,” he growled as he forced your face into a nearby wall, grinding hard into him as his legs seemingly took up a mind of their own. “That’s WHY I b-became a villain baby,” he said with a smirk as he kissed up and down your neck, smiling as he admired your tears on your blood and sweat drenched body. “You like it when someone ca-can fucking take control of you like this! Fuck you like a dumb slut against the wall!” He growled as he kissed up the back of your neck. “You’re so fucking dumb right now baby,” he whispered with a soft giggle. “D-Drooling over villain cock… The cock of a fucking king!” He pushed your hips against the wall with a loud groan, his fingers going deeper into your mouth, grabbing your tongue, watching your saliva run down your face. “You’re so pretty like this! MY fucking toy,” he growled as he closed his eyes, slowing down a little as he nipped your ear. “Oh fuck I’m gonna cum right inside of that tight hole of yours,” he mumbled in your ear. “But I’m gonna make you milk me… Slowly… Gently,” he said as he took a deep breath, gently brushing your hair out of the way, kissing the side of your head as he smiled a little.

“You like this,” he whispered as he dealt you slow, deep, hard thrusts that were definitely more comfortable as he blushed and let out soft sultry moans, his hands gently guiding your hips into his and then away from his. He held you against him lovingly, groaning needily as he massaged over your marks, his hands covered in your blood. “Make me cum… Make me cum baby,” he whimpered as he kissed the side of your head, down your neck, your ear, then on your neck and shoulder, punctuating every single thrust of his hips with a soft groan. “I love you,” he mumbled to you softly, his body tensing as he edged himself closer and closer to cumming. “I-I love you,” he whispered, sounding like he was about to cry. “I-I always have,” he whimpered quietly as he thrusted hard into you, nipping into your soft, supple neck. “C-Cum with me because you’re m-mine! Mine! F-Fucking mine,” he whined as he he rolled his body into yours. “I’m the only one that c-can fill you up the right way! I’m the one that can  fuck you the right way! T-The only one w-with c-cock big enough to satisfy you! The only one that can take control of you t-the right way!” He growled before pulling you onto him hard, filling you with his warm, sticky cum. He dug his nails into your skin as he watched your cum mix with his after it left a bulge in your stomach. “Oh fuck yeah,” he whispered softly as he slowly came down from his high as he watched the bulge he pushed into your stomach because of his cum. He trembled feeling his cum mixed with yours running down his leg. He hugged you close, hiding his face behind your shoulder, tears from his own overstimulation soaking his face, his breathing shaky as he slowly released you from his hold. Immediately, you slumped against the wall, Kirishima’s arms being the only thing holding you up. You trembled and whimpered softly, not even able to turn your head, barely even able to open your mouth.

“I m-meant what I said,” he said after awhile, slowly dusting your upper back with soft kisses, his hands hardened only halfway, massaging your back to help ease your pain a little. “I really do love you… But after it was expressed that I died in action… I couldn’t come back out… Hero work- well I wasn’t cut out for it,” he said as he pulled his pants back on, adjusting himself except having his messy hair. “This… This was the thing that made the most sense… This was the only way to get back to you,” he said sweetly as he took a deep breath and he bit his lip, picking you up with a soft grunt. “Cmere baby,” he said softly as he sat on the ground, cradling you in his lap, pulling your head against his chest. “Shh.. I know it hurts… I’m so sorry for hurting you… Calling you mean things- that wasn’t manly of me,” he said as he gently stroked your face. “I don’t actually think you’re a slut… or a whore… or… something like that. I was a little too intense,” he whispered softly as he kissed the crown of your head. “You mean everything to me. I already lost you once… I don’t want to lose you ever again…” He tilted your head up gently and he caught your gaze. He smiled and kissed the tip of your nose and he shook his head slowly. “… Please be mine,” he said softly. “I-I don’t care about social status or labels or anything! I don’t care if I’m a fucking villain and you’re a hero… And I wouldn’t care vice versa… I-I just…” He teared up and he looked away, biting his lip as he tried not to get too emotional. You reached up gently and weakly, your arm trembling as your fingers met his hot skin and you slowly stroked his face.

“Hey,” you whimpered hoarsely. “I’m all d-drugged up or whatever… But please believe me when I say that… I love you too… I always do… I mean have… Ugh,” you lolled your head back only to have Kirishima’s hand gently lift your head up gently and rest it against your chest again. “S-Since high school,” you squeaked before hiding into him taking in his scent. “I love you, Kirishima,” you whispered softly as you shook your head.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered as he stood up again, whimpering softly at how sensitive he was from how fast and hard he was moving. “Oh fuck,” he whispered softly, covering you up. “Let me run a nice bath for you… You can wear some of my clothes afterwards… I think Mr. Compress actually made some food, so you’ll eat good… But… Please,” he practically begged, his hand cupping your face as his glistening keen eyes stared into your sleepy ones. “Please don’t leave me again,” he whimpered as he hugged into you, kissing your shoulder gently.

“I won’t,” you smiled weakly at him, trying not to fall asleep again. “I don’t want to,” you reassured, running your fingers through his smooth, messy, fiery red hair. “I’m yours… I’m all yours… I l-love you Kirishima Eijiro,” you whispered before laying limp in his arms, the drugs catching up with you as you fell asleep.

He looked down at you with the most protective stare and he smiled sweetly at you, standing in the middle of the corridor to stare at you. His smile was lazy and sleepy as he stared at you. “I’m so happy that you’re finally mine… Finally… I’ll take such good care of you… It’s the manliest thing for me to do,” he whispered softly, gently kissing your forehead with a soft wispy giggle.

[cyhyr]

KakaIru Maze 2021: Decoding Ancient Lost Languages

Fandom: Naruto

Rating: T

WC: ~4540

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Additional Tags: Mysterious Injuries, Old Gods, Sacrifice, Poisoning, Curses, Hospitalization, Hopeful Ending, Medical Inaccuracies, Medical Procedures, Hair Loss

A/N: *~*Throws Confetti*~* I. DON'T. KNOW. WHAT. I'M. DOING.

I did the barest amount of research for this fic. *~*More Confetti*~*

Read on The Archive

~

Normally, Iruka would balk at the idea that he should be carried through the front gates after a mission, no matter how gruelling. He has an image to uphold, and what if one of his students were to see him broken and weak after one of his missions? He’d either never hear the end of their worry or, worse, lose their respect as a strong shinobi capable of teaching them.

So no, this situation is far from normal.

He holds on tight around Kotetsu’s shoulders and buries his face in his teammate’s hair. His back is on fire, carved wounds shifting and worsening with each step. Some kind of curse-seal, or a time-released jutsu; whatever happened, Izumo couldn’t use the mystical palm jutsu to heal it, not without causing further excruciating pain and making the wounds ooze and seem to cut themselves deeper into Iruka’s back.

They had cut their losses and abandoned the mission. Iruka’s fūinjutsu was vital to its success anyway, and he was—is—in constant agony.

Thankfully, they enter the village just after nightfall. Iruka can feel a bit relieved over that—most of his current students are home and inside at this time, so the chances of being seen by any of them are slim. He bites his lip to stifle a cry as Kotetsu pushes off a rooftop a bit harder than usual and it shifts him too much.

They’re halfway to the hospital when the ANBU team flank him and Kotetsu, escorting them the rest of the way. One of them, Cat, runs close enough to talk.

“Report.”

Iruka can’t. Kotetsu responds, “An injury that responds poorly to normal medical field ninjutsu.”

“Is he awake?”

Iruka nods, knowing Cat will see.

“Iruka-sensei, can you speak?”

He shakes his head.

Kotetsu says, “He’s been in too much pain to do much more than nod or shake his head.”

“Rokudaime-sama wants you and your other teammate to report directly to him once Iruka-sensei is admitted to the hospital.”

Kotetsu fumbles another step. Iruka grits his teeth and groans, holding back a scream. “Sorry, Ru,” he mumbles. To Cat he says, “Of course, ANBU-san. Izumo’s checking us in at the gate. I’ll collect him and report, once I drop Iruka off.”

Iruka doesn’t remember being admitted. He does remember Sakura’s startled cry as he’s placed face-down on a gurney and his wounds are finally able to be seen in harsh fluorescent lighting for the first time. Gods, he’s tired of being face-down in hospital beds.

Will something, anything, have the wherewithal to fucking strike him in the chest for once, please?

He passes out.

~

A hand is holding his own gently as he wakes, extremely disoriented and floaty on painkillers. He blinks his eyes open and turns his gaze to the man beside him. Iruka smiles faintly. “K’shi,” he slurs. Oh, they have him on the good drugs.

“You are never leaving the village again,” Kakashi whispers harshly. He bows his head and kisses Iruka’s hand in his own and continues, “Hokage’s orders.”

“I‘ll go rogue,” Iruka mutters, closing his eyes. “What’s in my IV?”

“From what Sakura tells me? Everything.”

“That explains.” Iruka stops, trying to think of the rest of his sentence, but a fresh flood of painkillers just flowed into his arm and he hums instead.

“I heard from Kotetsu and Izumo what happened,” Kakashi continues. “Are you able yet to talk about it as well?”

“Nope.” Iruka nuzzles into his pillow. He’s feeling really floaty and he’d like to go back to sleep.

Kakashi chuckles. Iruka receives a kiss to his hair and a tighter grip on his hand. “Sleep, then, my love. I’ll see if Sakura can get you on something less strong, enough that we can talk soon.”

“‘Kay. Love you.”

He falls back asleep.

~

When he wakes the second time, there’s a different kind of energy in the room—a different sort of love in the air, and Iruka knows it sounds crazy but he can just tell, even with his eyes still closed, when he’s around Kakashi or if he’s around Naruto.

Now, it’s Naruto.

Also, he can feel the carving in his back, so whatever they’d had him on before they’d lowered the dosage or put him on something else entirely.

“Hey, Naruto,” Iruka says, opening his eyes.

In the chair beside his head, the blond bundle sits, knee twitching. With his bandaged arm crossed over his other and his head bowed in thought, he almost looks like the adult he’s so close to being, instead of the teenager he still is. They argue good-naturedly about it all the time; Naruto insists that he’s an adult, but at eighteen, he’s still technically a teenager and Iruka reminds him of it as much as he can.

“Iru-nii! How are you feeling?”

“Like someone took a carving knife to my back,” Iruka scoffs. “Also, strangely drained.”

Naruto nods. “Sakura-chan said that the new pain medicine has the side-effect of making it feel like you’re chakra-exhausted. But,” he frowns, “she also said that the dose should be strong enough that you wouldn’t be in too much pain when you wake up.”

“It’s bearable, Naruto. You…” He sighs, “You didn’t see me when I came in, did you?”

He shakes his head. “I was out with Kiba and Shikamaru. Kakashi-sensei told me about you this morning, when we got back. You’ve been drifting in and out for, like, three days!”

Iruka buries his face in his pillow and groans. There goes his hope that the carvings won’t scar.

“He says he’ll be by later,” Naruto adds. He shivers comically. “I still don’t see why you’d pick him of all people, Iru-nii.”

Iruka smiles. “You have a different experience with him as his student.” The smile fades and he asks, “Has there been any progress made on fixing my back?”

Naruto sobers. “See, that’s the thing. Every time Sakura tries to get close with some kind of medical ninjutsu—or even with normal healing balms and stitches—the cuts react violently. Like there’s some bad chakra embedded inside them.”

“Has anyone had a Hyūga come and look at it?” Iruka muses. “If there’s chakra in the cuts, then a Hyūga would see it with the Byakugan.”

Naruto jumps up. “You’re a genius! I’ll go and check with Sakura-chan!”

Iruka watches him leave and sighs fondly. Kakashi did well with him, he thinks, and then closes his eyes and drifts.

~

At least he’s able to move around on his own now. Iruka washes his hands in the bathroom and then braces his palms on the sink. It’s been almost a week, and no one is any closer to figuring out how to fix his back.

Having a Hyūga look at the wounds didn’t help. It nearly blinded Hinata. Iruka still feels horribly guilty about it, but she can still see and activate her Byakugan, so he’s been told multiple times to let it go.

What she had seen made everyone uneasy though. A slimy discharge of chakra oozing from the wounds, bright and powerful enough that Hinata had to close her eyes against it.

Sakura has a small team of medi-nins on his case, researching at all hours. Two days, and they still haven’t found anything.

Iruka’s frustrated.

Kakashi visits every night and Naruto most mornings. It’s nice, but he’d rather be back in class with his kids.

He had to get a blood transfusion last night. His back hasn’t stopped bleeding, and the blood loss finally caught up to him.

Iruka turns his back to the mirror, takes off his shirt gingerly, and looks over his shoulder at the carvings. He frowns—it looks odd. This is the first time he’s gotten to see the wounds, and he can’t imagine no one's noticed…

He leaves the bathroom and hunts around in the stack of drawers by his bed. “Ha!” He finds a pad of paper and a pencil, and heads back into the bathroom.

It’s difficult, transcribing the still bleeding wounds onto paper through a mirror while looking over his shoulder. It’s even harder once the dose of painkillers he’s on fully metabolizes and he’s not yet done. Twisting his upper back, stretching and sitting on the edge of the sink so he can see his lower back—it aches.

A voice comes from the other side of the door, along with a soft knock. “Iruka-sensei? Is everything alright?”

Sakura.

He places the pad and pencil on the counter and slides the door open. “Sakura, has no one realized that the wounds are words?” he asks.

She looks startled. “Huh?”

“Could you please clean them for me again, and check that I’ve transcribed it correctly?” Iruka reaches back inside the bathroom and gives the pad of paper to Sakura. “I’m sure Rokudaime-sama will be interested in this.”

Sakura finally catches up. “Yes! Um, let me get you another dose of painkillers, and a flush kit. If you could sit back down, Sensei? I’ll be right back!”

Iruka just about collapses onto the mattress, leaning his elbows on his knees. Finally, some answers are on the horizon.

~

“It’s no language the cipher corps recognize, nor is it a code in our archives.” Kakashi has his arms crossed and a shoulder leaning against the window. “But they do agree with your assessment—it’s definitely a message of some kind.”

Iruka sighs, picking at the hospital food. “Validation is nice, but I was hoping for an end to this pain.”

“I know, love. Me too.”

“When can we expect word back from Sasuke?”

“If it is Otsutsuki, Sasuke should arrive as soon as possible, per my order. If not, he likely will only return a messenger hawk with the information.” Kakashi leaves the window and comes to sit on the mattress beside Iruka. “We’re going to figure this out.”

Iruka hums and leans against his partner, resting his head against Kakashi’s collarbone. It’s not comfortable, but it is comforting. “I miss sleeping with you,” he whispers.

Kakashi kisses the top of his head. “I miss you too, love. The house is too quiet without you.”

~

Iruka stares at the encoded characters transcribed from his back. He’s… discomfited. He’s been staring at the words for almost a half-hour, trying to make sense of it.

It doesn’t change.

Iruka knows this language.

Not… not well enough to read it outright, but enough that with the characters cleaned up and a fresh copy in his hands, one that was written down while the scribe (himself) wasn’t in immense pain, he recognizes it.

“Iru-nii!” Naruto steps in for his morning visit. “How’d you sleep?”

“As best as can be expected,” Iruka mutters. “Naruto, can you do me a favor?”

“Hmm? Sure!”

Thank the gods he still has his moments of dull-headedness. “In the office at home, I have a scroll with the Uzumaki clan seal on it. It’s the only one, middle shelf. I need you to get that scroll for me please.”

“Nii-chan, why do you have an Uzumaki scroll?”

Iruka sighs. “Go get the scroll, and I’ll explain when you get back, okay?”

Naruto leaves through the open window, his footing unsteady. But he leaves and that means that Iruka can breathe and take the time to think of a way to tell him, when he gets back, about how he found out that they are actually distantly related.

Actually, no—how is he supposed to—shit. Iruka drags a hand down his face.

Hey Naruto, oh this old scroll? Found it in the archives after Tsunade-sama left office! It was in a box marked with my parents’ names on it. Yeah, turns out that my father was a refugee from Uzushio, just like your mother! Oh, and funnily enough, Umino is also a branch family of the Uzumaki!

That’s… not going to go over well, is it.

~

Break a thing for fragments. Break the fragments for dust. Break the dust, and break what remains. Here is fire.

To forge a sword, to fight, to curse your enemies on the eve of battle. This is the story of blood and its exits.

A word that sanctifies the change that comes when the seared skin peels. Words spoken in ritual to inspire an unmerciful Change. To speak them aloud is to hear the sword hiss.

All these things share certain patterns.

“Mercy,” saith the Altar, “is found only in shadow.”

“Mercy,” saith the Altar, “is found only in shadow.”

“Mercy,” saith the Altar, “is found only in shadow.”

…

Iruka wakes gasping, not realizing that he’d fallen asleep. He pats his lap for the scroll Naruto had brought him, and startles as he realizes that it’s not there. It—It had been there just, just a little while ago, hadn’t it???

“Mercy is found only in shadow,” he mutters to himself, looking around his room. “Mercy is found… There!” The scroll, the one with the Uzumaki clan seal, is rolled up and tucked neatly away on a table on the far end of the room. Iruka gathers his strength and swings his legs over the side of the bed.

He tries to stand.

And fails.

He catches himself on hands and knees, and then feels his elbows weaken and give way. His cheek hits the tile and he hisses. He tries to push up again, but can’t…

Can’t…

…

The Altar holds a spark.

Freol is the mouth, the door, the flame, the altar, and the reward.

Knife and sword shed blood for Freol; what is spilled is hers. Fires burn for Freol; what is consumed is hers.

~

“Iruka! Iruka, please, wake up!”

“The breath of Freol brings change and endings,” Iruka slurs, barely awake and compelled. He can’t stop, can’t stop, can’t speak anything other than this ancient language. “‘Mercy,’ saith the Altar, ‘is found only in shadow.’ Let those who gather near Freol be blessed and cursed. Mercy is found only in shadow. Mercy—”

“Naruto, tell me Sasuke has gotten back to us.”

“He hasn’t! And-and Kurama has no idea what Iru-nii’s saying, either!”

Kakashi shakes him, taps his cheek. “Iruka, come back, please.”

Iruka tries to say I’m sorry Kakashi but what passes his lips is a murmured, “‘Mercy,’ saith the Altar, ‘is found only in shadow.’”

~

Sakura stands in front of him solemnly. “We gave him a high enough dose of tranquilizer that he shouldn’t even dream, Kakashi-sensei. My team—”

Kakashi holds up a hand to stop her from speaking. He knows he doesn’t look good, knows he hasn’t been home in over forty-eight hours, but he can’t… he can’t stop. Iruka… “What about the scroll that was in his room?”

“Naruto said Iruka-sensei had him collect it from his home office,” Sakura says. “But no one can read it. We have been able to determine that it’s in the same language as the carvings he transcribed from his back, though.”

Kakashi looks up. “The cavern he and his team had been in—where were they?”

Sakura turns to the map hanging up in his office, and points, “East of here, near a village on the coast. Naruto mentioned—”

“The scroll is from Uzushio,” Kakashi muses, “and it has an Uzumaki clan seal on it. I’ll bet we’ll find more information about all this in the ruins of Uzushio.”

Sakura nods. “But Kakashi-sensei, you can’t—”

“I know.” He sighs. “Take Naruto and go. Find out what’s causing this. Find out how to fix it.”

She nods again and turns to leave.

“Sakura,” he calls out, softer. She stops, but doesn’t turn back to face him. That’s good; he might not be able to say this to her face. “This part comes not from your Hokage, but from me, personally. Please. He’s… Iruka’s everything. Please, find something.”

She gives him a thumbs-up over her shoulder, and says, “We won’t let you down, sensei.”

~

Kakashi watches from the windows as the nurses check Iruka’s vitals and change out his fluids. She bows to him when she’s done and then turns to leave; Kakashi holds up a palm and says, “Wait.”

“Hokage-sama?”

“How… How is he?”

She smiles softly, gently. “We’re taking good care of him, sir.”

“That’s all Sakura told you to tell me, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Hokage-sama.”

He sighs. “Thank you. Is there anything I can do to help?”

Her smile turns just the tiniest bit mischievous. “A higher budget for the hospital in the next fiscal quarter wouldn’t be remiss, Hokage-sama.”

He waves her away, “I’ll see what I can do,” he says with as much humor as he can muster. She leaves, and he goes to sit in his chair by Iruka’s side.

They had to intubate him today. Kakashi couldn’t get away from the desk long enough to be here for him; not that it mattered, because they were keeping him sedated even before shoving a tube down his throat. But it matters to Kakashi because he can’t…

He can’t do anything.

He’s stuck here, managing the village, while his students are out looking for answers to whatever mysterious illness his partner has fallen to. And all he’s good for is holding Iruka’s hand, and maybe going and lobbying for an increase in the hospital budget.

His hair is limp and matted from long weeks in the hospital. Kakashi runs his fingers through the ends of brunet strands and hopes that, when Iruka wakes up, he’ll let Kakashi wash his hair.

“Please get better,” Kakashi murmurs into the clasp of their hands. “I need you. Please.”

~

“Sakura-chan.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m getting real sick of goddesses thinking they can ruin everything, y’know?”

“Yeah.”

Mercy is found only in shadow.

~

“He needs another blood transfusion.”

“Take mine,” Kakashi offers. “We have the same blood type.”

“Hokage-sama—”

“Just take the damn blood,” Kakashi snaps. “Whatever he needs, please, just. Just do it. Take it.”

The nurses bow. “Yes, sir.”

Footsteps in the hall, rapidly approaching, signal Kakashi to a messenger. He stands up and crosses to the door just as Shikamaru slides it open, panting from his run.

Shikamaru turns to the nurses and says, “He needs a bone marrow transplant.”

The nurse looks at him, startled, and says, “Whyever for?”

“Naruto sent ahead a messenger.” Shikamaru glances at Kakashi and finally catches his breath. “The one word Iruka-sensei had said, Freol? It’s the name of an ancient deity of the Land of Whirlpools, one whose purview is to change its followers. One of the ways it does this, as Sakura describes it, is through a kind of radiation poisoning.”

“But that doesn’t explain the,” Kakashi gestures vaguely, and then ends helplessly, “speaking in tongues.”

“The message said they’ll explain that part when they get home,” Shikamaru says. “Naruto and Sakura are on their way back, arrival is estimated at thirty-one hours.” He turns to the nurse. “Can we perform a transplant?”

She hums thoughtfully. “Normally, I’d say yes. But Iruka-sensei doesn’t have any close blood relatives, and if his own marrow is compromised as you say we can’t assume an autologous transplant will be effective.”

Kakashi’s heart stops. “But—”

“But,” the nurse continues, “we can start him on a treatment regimen which will increase his white blood cell count. We’ll start checking in with frequent blood tests. We can also start on a broad-spectrum heavy metals sequestration; we’ll cover Iodine, thallium, caesium, plutonium, and curium. They’re the most common.”

Kakashi motions to her, and says to Shikamaru, “She’s my favorite.”

“You shouldn’t have favorites, Kakashi-sama.”

He groans. The nurse smiles and says, “I’ll go order those tests and treatments,” and then ducks around Shikamaru and leaves.

~

Kakashi holds the scroll open on his desk, reading the translation Sakura and Naruto brought back. It’s a puzzle in its own right, but coupled with the Uzumaki scroll Iruka had kept in their office, Kakashi finds himself even more thoroughly confused.

“I understand how you came to the conclusion of radiation,” he says. “But I don’t understand how this is supposed to explain why Iruka began speaking the language. Because that is what happened, isn’t it?”

“That’s where a little bit of Iruka-sensei knowledge comes in handy,” Naruto says. He steps forward and points to a line near the bottom. “‘Many others can open the way. Few can place a seal where there was none before.’ And then I remembered this one, off-hand comment Iruka-sensei had made when we were kids. That the people from Uzushio were really good with fūinjutsu.”

“And that has to do with Iruka?”

“Kakashi-sensei,” Naruto groans, like he’s the genius and Kakashi is being deliberately stupid. “Umino is an Uzushio family! ‘Few can place a seal where there was none before’! I’ve seen him do that, just, poof, barrier seals.”

“Naruto, I know he’s from Uzushio. What does that have to do with his condition?”

“Freol,” Sakura says. “When he and the other chūnin got close to that cave. She recognized him as one of hers and marked him.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because the same thing happened to Naruto when we got close.”

Kakashi stands up, vaults over the desk and puts his hands on Naruto’s shoulders. “You’re alright?”

“Kurama beat her up and kept me safe,” Naruto nodded. “But I could hear her. She said something like, ‘the flames will consume, or change, or seal at my whim.’ She was angry.”

Kakashi sighs and drops his hands. “And even Kurama doesn’t recognize this goddess?”

“Actually, once they came into contact, he did recognize her,” Naruto says. “Freol was a protector of the Land of Whirlpools, he says, a creator of soldiers superior to ninja.”

“Superior?”

Sakura interjects, motioning back to the scrolls on his desk. “Right here, see. ‘Hers is the flame which hides in the flesh and the soul and twists both into something new.’ But also, this line, ‘What is left behind is Changed, and may Change others in turn.’”

“Kurama was able to tell us about Uzushio as it once was, back in the warring states,” Naruto continues. “That there would be those who would willingly sacrifice themselves to Freol, for the chance to Change into something more. Something different.”

“A superior soldier,” Kakashi muses. “And this Change. This is what’s happening to Iruka.”

Both of them nodded. “That’s what we think.”

“How do we stop it?”

“That’s the thing,” Sakura’s face falls. “I don’t think there’s a way to stop the process once it starts. Freol marks those she wishes to undergo the Change, and then… Well, all of the writings we managed to find say that the sacrifices either come out stronger, or their families seal their bodies into stasis, or—”

She stops, choking on tears she fights back with every bit of training she’d gone through.

“Or they die,” Kakashi finishes in a soft, defeated voice.

All three of them stand silent in the office for a long time.

~

Kakashi finds himself sleeping in Iruka’s hospital room most nights. The treatment is hell on his partner’s body—the windows are covered with heavy curtains now, to keep out the sunlight which could very easily burn his skin on the medication; hair which was once limp and matted is now starting to fall out every time Kakashi pulls a brush through it; his lips are chapped and broken around the tube, his skin dry and thin everywhere else. The nurses had to change his IV from his arm to the back of his hand today, because the veins in his arm are becoming too thin to support the needle.

He’s dying.

Iruka’s dying, and all Kakashi can do is hold his hand and watch.

And, gods, the last thing they said to each other… Iruka was speaking a different language and Kakashi was begging him to wake up.

Will he really have to watch Iruka die, knowing that he’ll never get to hear I love you from those lips again?

Kakashi buries his face in his arms, carefully arranged over Iruka’s thigh. He used to have such thick, muscular thighs; it’s barely skin and bone now.

Alone, with only his dying partner to hear—or not—Kakashi lets himself cry.

~

“I’m going to try something.”

“Naruto, please—”

“No. Kakashi-sensei, Iru-nii is strong. And Freol won’t pursue him if he goes through the Change, right?”

“There’s no guarantee of that.”

“He’ll be stronger, just like the other sacrifices who survived. Kakashi-sensei, all Iru-nii needs to do is survive.”

“The Change—”

“We’ll deal with it when we’re on the other side of this!”

Naruto places his hands on Iruka, and the Nine-Tail’s Cloak bubbles up around him.

The monitors, registering Iruka’s nervous system, don’t react. He’s in no further pain.

Kakashi feels the tiniest bit lighter. “I hope this works, Naruto.”

“It was Kurama’s idea,” the teen grins. “He remembered that normal healing jutsu wasn’t working before; but he was able to beat back Freol himself when she came after me. So letting Iru-nii use Kurama’s chakra as a kind of life support—it should keep Freol from making this worse at least, right? While he gets better?”

It doesn’t make sense. It shouldn’t work.

But it does.

~

Almost a week later, the nurses are removing the tubes from his throat, and Kakashi is pacing the room waiting for the tranquilizers to wear off. Iruka should wake up any minute now. Naruto’s plan worked. Iruka made it through, and his most recent blood test showed no abnormalities due to radiation. They stopped the heavy metal sequestration yesterday, but the white blood cell proteins will continue for a few days still, to help prevent further infection.

They still don’t know what kind of change Iruka’s undergone. At least, other than the physical.

His hair is gone. Sakura has assured Kakashi that it will grow back. It’s so odd, though, seeing his partner without hair. They’ve put a cap on his head to keep him warm—his body temperature has been fluctuating oddly the last day and a half, and in particular today he’s running cold.

Also, his scent has changed. He hasn’t told anyone about it yet, but Iruka smells different. Less like old parchment and a swift river, and more like… like a waterfall and the deep, loamy scent of rich, black earth. It’s not a bad change. But it’s significant. He’s already taken an overnight to summon the pack and have his ninken memorize Iruka’s new scent, just in case it’s permanent.

“K’shi?”

He’s across the room in a flash, holding Iruka’s limp hand and holding back tears.

“I thought—”

“My K’shi,” Iruka slurs, turning his head to face him and closing his eyes, a soft smile on his lips.

The tears fall anyway. “I thought I was going to lose you.”

Iruka hums. “L’ve you.”

He’s still on a considerable amount of pain medication, Kakashi realizes. He laughs wetly, leans forward and kisses Iruka’s forehead. “I love you, too. Rest, dear.”

“M’kay.”

And just like that, he is breathing slow and steady, his eyes close gently, and he is sleeping peacefully for the first time in months. Kakashi falls back into his chair with a huff and tips his head to the ceiling, still holding Iruka’s hand, and also, finally, finding an easy sleep.

[ellstersmash]

anybody's hands

Fandom: The Wayhaven Chronicles Pairing: Mason x Theo West Rating: M (sexual content, language, smoking) Words: 2,740 [read on Ao3]

theo drops by the bar for a drink and gets an offer she can't refuse; mason just gets an eyeful. set in book 1 after the whole supernatural reveal

-

< Answer your phone >

< Where the hell are you >

< guess. >

< No >

< aw. thought you liked to play? >

< Don't make me track you down >

< or what? gonna punish me? 😏 >

…

…

< The thought has crossed my mind >

< i did cut out early today. thats pretty naughty.. >

< i guess >

< considering the circumstances >

...

< Can't spank you if I don't know where you are >

< 🍒 >

...

< DONT FUCKING LEAVE >

“Buy you a drink?”

“Sure.” Theo doesn't even look up from her phone until after she's agreed.

Her benefactor is perched on the next bar stool over, one boot propped up on the footrest, stuck by the rubber sole, the other planted on the floor. Large hands folded in his lap, and he is undeniably attractive. Tall and clean-shaven and fit in a half-assed way that leaves him soft around the edges. His deep brown eyes scan her features with an approving simmer, and his curly black hair is a little longer than last time. She mentions it, says she likes it and he smiles.

“I'm surprised you remember me,” he says, and it probably wasn't meant to be offensive, but it smarts regardless—as much as the opinion of a stranger ever can.

“Why's that?” Theo tilts her head and peers up at him through her lashes. “You don't think you made an impression?”

“I hope this means I did.”

Emmett! That was his name. A napkin appears on the counter in front of her, then a beer, and Theo snatches it up for a sip.

He props one elbow on the counter to get a couple inches closer, and the faint aroma of his cologne reaches her. It's good shit. Heady and cool, musky and a little sweet. She wants to bury her nose in his chest and fill up her senses, and that's probably the idea.

“You look great, Theo. I mean, really great.”

“It’s the badge. Makes me irresistible.”

“I don’t think that’s it.”

She purses her lips in a demure sort of thank you. “So how are things?”

Things are great, because of course they are. Not many men will say otherwise, afraid that emotional vulnerability will hurt their chances. It won't—at least, not with her. She doesn't give a shit about the things or how they are.

There are exactly two variables that matter to her in moments like this, when she wants like this. Likely and hopefully, the same two on his mind: do you want to fuck and are you close enough to sober? A no to either of the above renders this conversation pointless. She will finish her free drink and he'll take the next opportunity to rejoin his friends by the pool table. They won't exchange numbers or emails or whatever people do these days. He will go home to the city and she will stay here and their existences in each other’s lives will be reduced to an "oh, nothing really, what did you do this weekend?" in the break room at work on Monday, and the next time their paths happen to cross, if they ever do again, they won't remember how things were this time. They'll ask the same two questions, and hope the ayes have it.

But if she recalls correctly—now that she's doubting she is—he'd been a little uncomfortable with her direct approach the last time. So as Emmett—

No, wait. Elliot? Everett? Whatever, it’s too late to ask for a reminder now.

—tells her about the camping trip he and “the guys” are about to go on, she runs her finger around the rim of her glass. Nods at the usual moments and asks a few questions to keep him talking.

Theo has more than half a mind to steer the conversation elsewhere. Keep it light, wait until Mason shows up, find out if he's finally ready to make good on all those threats of his. The thought ignites a thrill of heat in her core that skitters out to the tips of her fingers and toes, and sends her imagination spiraling.

Much to her dismay, she doesn’t get to stay distracted for long. Emmett or Elliot or Everett asks about her things right back, and though she's tempted to wave him off and get to the good part, she indulges his probing. Work is good, just got a promotion! Yeah, to detective. Yeah, I'm on the murder case. Yeah, it's totally wild. No, no family worth mentioning but our station cats are thriving.

Some people prefer to ease in, and that's ok.

“So,” he finally says. Clears his throat and stalls a while, and Theo knows what comes next. “Are you seeing anyone?”

“Nope.” She sips. “You?”

“Not really.”

She instinctively squints at the wording, but doesn't ask for specifics. That's not her boundary to keep. “Lucky me.”

He blinks, flattered and flustered. “I forgot you were such a charmer.”

“What? How could you forget my, like”—Theo holds her fingers up in sequence—“fourth best quality?”

“I must have been distracted by your first three.”

“Oh, and I'm the charmer?”

A tentative brush of his fingers on her chin, bolder along her jaw, then he tucks her hair behind her ear. “I was inspired.” His focus drops to her lips, and the warmth returns, building and solid and he's right here in front of her.

“Just so we understand one another,” she says, though considering the way he’s already undressing her with his eyes, the warning she's about to give feels superfluous. “I'm not up for a date or anything.”

His relief is palpable. “Likewise. Just looking to blow off some steam, if you’re up for it. Are you busy tonight?”

“Hoping to be.”

His place? Hers?

No, she shouldn't leave. Mason will be here eventually and he's only trying to do his job. She made it difficult enough by leaving work early. Besides, she can't go with this guy and she can't take him home, not with all that's going on. Can't put him in that kind of danger for a one night stand. Not to mention the fact that her vampire coworkers-slash-babysitters are waiting at her apartment, which would require a tricky explanation.

The sobering thought almost kills her arousal. Almost. She scoots off her stool and slams the rest of her beer, then leans back against the bar.

“I, uh, have plans later,” she says. “But I happen to be free right this second. How do you feel about public restrooms?”

His brown eyes go black as they flick between her and the red-lit sign.

Theo places one hand on his knee to lean in toward his ear. “Ladies’, two minutes.” She bites her lip and smiles to close the deal, then saunters away.

-

It's the furthest thing from romantic: held up against a bathroom wall she hopes to god is sort of clean, her shirt rucked up to her tits, his jeans hanging off his ass, her own crumpled on the floor and her panties shoved to one side so he can fuck her. But goddamn, she needed this.

To his credit, he started slow. Kissed her good and proper and slid his hand down her pants before they got this far, but she didn't need all that. Didn’t want it. Didn’t have time to wait for it.

Theo bites not-too-gently into the tense muscle of his shoulder, eliciting a soft grunt and a curse, then yanks at the sleeve of his T-shirt to bare his skin. She scrapes her teeth up to his neck and kisses him hard and he groans and thrusts harder, faster, inching her ever closer to the high she's been craving all day.

“Oh. Oh god," she gasps out. "I'm so close, don't stop.”

But he does, and so does she, as a harsh knock sounds at the door—a split second before it swings wide open.

“Detective, you in h—”

Mason slows to a stop and freezes as he takes in the scene, then his features settle into a sly smirk. The soft ka-chunk of the door closing behind him is the only sound in the room.

“Yo, buddy. You mind?” Evan or Ellis or whatever his name is glances over his shoulder, shifting his grip on Theo’s thigh.

She flinches at the movement. He is still buried inside her and she is far too preoccupied with dangling on the precipice of her climax to laugh or be embarrassed or say anything at all.

Mason doesn’t answer him yet, only holds her gaze. From anyone else, she’d expect admonishment. Disappointment. A healthy dose of shame. From him, maybe a derisive scoff. But his expression is darkened with something different, and as he wets his lips a fresh wave of heat coils in her belly. Her heart pounds in her chest.

She has forgotten how to breathe.

“Nah,” he finally says. “Not at all.”

His voice is low and rough, hot coals that turn to silk on her skin and velvet in her ears and send a shiver straight down her spine. It is all Theo can do to keep from tumbling over the edge.

Then, with a wicked grin, he leaves.

“Wow, shit.” Another adjustment makes Theo hiss, but at least Edward—

Sure, let's go with that.

—doesn't pull out. “I am so sorry, I thought you locked it.”

She ignores both the apology and the accusation and rolls her pelvis, trying to hit that sweet spot. Doesn't need much more, just—

His hips obediently stutter back to life, then back into rhythm, and Theo squeezes her eyes shut. Sees freckle-painted skin and long dark hair and eyes like summer thunder; she shatters. Wrangles the sound of it into harsh broken breaths that feel less like release and more like suffocation, then shudders and winces as he fucks her straight through it until he comes with a muffled groan.

They part from one another like they were never anything else, clean up and dress, and he examines the hickey forming on his neck with a measure of discomfort. He leaves a kiss on her cheek but doesn't linger, and she doesn't encourage the idea. She doesn't give him her number. He doesn't ask what she's up to next weekend.

She doesn't even remember his name.

After he's gone, she stares at herself in the mirror for a minute. Runs her fingers through her hair to untangle it, parts it on one side, then the other, then gives up and pulls it back into a ponytail. Washes her hands and rinses her mouth and wipes away the smudges of mascara that have settled where they shouldn’t.

Knock, knock.

“You coming?”

Theo gives herself one last look-over before she yanks the door open. Mason is leaning up against the wall outside the bathroom, thumbs hooked in his pockets and long limbs surprisingly relaxed. Gray gleams almost silver as he appraises her altered appearance.

“Again?” he adds, with a smile so smug she wants to smack him.

Stupid vampires and their stupid goddamn supersenses.

It irks her not to have any ammo. He may not be in any position to judge her, but being the brunt of his joke doesn’t suit her much better. She should laugh and let it go—he’ll move on in ten minutes and it doesn’t matter what he thinks, if he thinks of her at all, but somehow that doesn’t help. The best she can do is a halfhearted roll of her eyes before she walks away.

A quick pit-stop at the bar to grab her jacket and pay her tab for the one beer that wasn't free, then she shoves out the door, Mason on her heels.

He rubs his hands together like some mountain climber stranded above the snowline and shivers so violently she can hear it in his voice. “Tell me you weren’t stupid enough to walk here.”

Theo flicks up her middle finger before veering around the corner toward her car.

“You're in a surprisingly bad mood, considering you just got off,” he says as they get in.

“And you're in a surprisingly good one, considering you didn't.”

All his attention falls heavy on her.

“Oh, sweetheart. That’s only part of the fun.” As he leans over the center console, the alluring scent of smoke and sandalwood has her breathing in too deep. It leaves her lightheaded. Dizzy. “And I can’t say I don't enjoy helping you get where you need to go.”

Fire rises to Theo’s cheeks and for the second time in the past five minutes, her mouth flounders around impossible words. Mason shifts even closer with an expression she might call dreamy if it were plastered on literally anyone else’s face.

“So she does blush. This night gets better and better.”

The taunting does it. She snaps back into focus. “Who says you had anything to do with it?”

It’s not a response, not really. That curve of his lips, that look that’s way too goddamn sure. It hangs in the air between them, turns it liquid; she can’t fill her lungs, can’t quit staring at his mouth and shit he's so close. Three inches, give or take. A stretch of her neck, a tilt of her head, a tip of her chin and she could taste what she’s been missing and shut him up at the same time. A real win-win-win.

But one reckless semi-public fuck is probably enough for tonight.

So she shrinks away. Lets out a long breath and starts her car. “Fuck you,” she whispers, but can’t muster up enough bite to give it teeth.

“That a threat or a promise?” Mason backs off at her glare, fades, palms-out, to his own side of the car and rubs his wrinkled jeans back into place. He taps a cigarette free, then scowls and puts it back when she makes a fuss.

Her apartment building isn’t far. Nothing is far from anything around here. But instead of stalking up to the entryway door like she expects, Mason leans against the car and pulls his cigarettes out again, arching an eyebrow at her as if daring her to object.

Theo shrugs and stands upwind.

One between his lips and she finds it doesn't make them any less alluring. Then a smooth click, a spark, a steady flame, and a stream of smoke that puffs out harsh, curls at the edges, wisps out into nonexistence.

“I think you can make it the rest of the way without me,” he grumbles and gestures to the building’s well-lit entrance.

“Can I ask you something?”

The weary stare he gives her could mean anything, but it’s not a hard no.

“You’ve been at this casual sex thing for…?” Theo squints at him, giving him a chance to fill in the blank.

“A while.”

“Longer than me, I assume.”

He snorts at that. “Is there a point on its way, or are we just measuring dicks here?”

“As fun as that sounds, I think I’m at a bit of a disadvantage.”

Mason smirks, but doesn’t speak.

“I’m just wondering… does it get old? Like, sure, it's exciting, and relationships are—” She searches for a word to describe the specific mixture of irritation, disgust, and disappointment the concept holds for her, but she settles for making a nebulously unpleasant face. It seems to get the point across. “All that prowling and signaling and flirting, though? And the small talk! God, the small talk.”

“I tend to avoid that last part, yeah. But the rest of it?” Mason pauses, inhales sharp and lets it out slow. He turns to her at the end of it, smoke still drifting from his lips. He ashes his cigarette and studies her face like she already has the answer.

“Nope.”

“Hm. Guess yours is bigger after all.”

One last drag, then he drops the butt onto the asphalt and grinds it out. “You don’t have to guess, sweetheart. I’ll show you anytime you want.”

Theo pushes off the car with a huff of laughter and heads toward the door.

“Just saying,” he calls out, lifting his arms up with a grin to match hers. “If you're unsatisfied, maybe you need a better partner.”

She turns around, but keeps walking backward, catching his eye through a hazy white cloud. “I'll keep that in mind. Want me to prop the door open for you?”

Mason shakes his head, already digging in his jacket pocket, and Theo shuts the question out with him.

[levis-hazelnut]

Summary: when you and your best friend, Hanji, were younger, you had made up stories about your dream guys - what they would look like and how you would meet. What happens when the one you had made up appears to be real?

Warning(s): I don’t think there are any in this chapter. But, please do tell me if there are any.

Taglist (closed): @castellandiangelo @fandom-addict19​ @20coldhearts​

Status: completed!

part 8 > part 9 > part 10

series masterlist

"Why in the fucking hell have you been avoiding me?" Levi snapped, but it wasn't too angrily. I fidgeted with my fingers as my gaze stayed on the carpet of the room as if it would talk for me.

"... I don't know," I murmured, feeling awkward like I predicted it to be. "I guess I'm just... scared." I heard a sigh emanate from his lips and he unfolded his arms, taking a step closer to me as he realised he may have been too harsh on me. I caught the action but didn't do anything about it. I mean, what would I do? "Scared of what?" he asked in a more gentle tone, but it was still laced with slight annoyance. "Scared that I would be annoyed with you for no reason whatsoever? Scared that Petra is going to hate you? Scared that I'm going to be like your previous dickhead boyfriend? What are you scared of?"

"All of that, actually," I confessed, looking up at him to see his beautiful face that I was deprived of for nearly three weeks. "After finding out about... everything, I just wasn't certain that everything is going to work out like a fairytale. There was a chance of you being annoyed with me, but that was just idiot me being stupid. Petra assured me many times that she won't hate me for anything. And you... you have proved that you aren't going to be like my jerk of an ex. Now that I really think about it, I have nothing to be afraid of," I said with a soft smile touching my lips. "You're damn right, you idiot." He rolled his eyes, taking another step closer. "I don't know what goes on in that brain of yours, so I don't know where you get these shitty thoughts from. But you better get rid of them, there's no reason for you to be scared of anything. Stop being a coward and do what you want without your thoughts stopping you." My smile widened at his words, but I was still waiting for certain words that I want to come out of his mouth. Not all this sh*t about me being stupid. I mean, it's helpful, but it's not what I want right now. "... Sorry for sounding so harsh, but you needed to hear that so you can change for the future." "It wasn't that harsh. You should hear the scoldings I get from Hanji." "Whatever. I didn't exactly drag you here just to talk about you being dumb..." he pointed out, taking two more steps and he was right in front of me, close enough to touch me. And he did just that - he cupped my face with one hand, a soft and tender expression conquering his visage. I reluctantly leaned into his touch, gazing at his features that just happened to look so much more attractive in this moment as he leaned in closer to my face, both of our eyes lidding.

Then, his lips came in contact with mine. If my heart was beating rapidly before, I have no idea how fast it was going now but it did feel like it was going to jump out of my chest. I just know that it could probably be heard in this empty room, and Levi probably felt it when he snaked an arm around my waist, drawing me closer to him. My fingers nonchalantly reached up to tangle in his ebony locks that were oh so silky. I have always wanted to tangle my fingers in his hair and tug on it to get a reaction. That's what I did, and in return, I got a faint moan. His voice is so soft and the best thing ever? Bitch, please, that sound just now was ethereal and I needed to hear it again. Levi asked for an entrance to my mouth and I decided to tease him (as always), however, he sharply nipped on my lower lip which caused me to gasp softly. He took the chance and his tongue slipped into my wet cavern, where we battled. It's like we can never stop challenging each other, we have to annoy each other for no reason, argue for no reason, and now we have a tongue battle for no reason. He won (as always) the tongue battle and instead of his tongue exploring me, his hand travelled over my figure, making me shiver under his touch. Unfortunately, we needed to pull away from the passionate kiss for that damn thing called oxygen. My eyes were still closed as I lightly panted, taking in what just happened. A smirk edged onto my lips once it sunk in and I unlidded my eyes to find Levi staring at me as our faces were still in close proximity. Why is he so damn sexy? Please, whatever god is up there, I need to ask why you gave this man to me. I seriously don't deserve him, no matter what anyone says. "(Y/N)," he uttered softly after licking his lips, and I hummed to show I was listening. He barely says my name, and in that husky, low and gentle tone he just said it in now was something I never want to forget. "Tomorrow, at six o'clock, you better be ready." "Okay," I grinned, kissing his nose as I've always wanted to do. "Also, I'm pretty sure some people just saw us kiss," he stated, using his head to gesture to behind me where the door was. There was a small window in the door and there were many eyes watching. When I turned around, I noticed Jean, Hanji, Farlan, Isabel, Connie, Sasha, Armin, Historia and Lucius grinning at us (well, not Lucius). There were also some of Levi's fangirls (and maybe my fanboys since Levi claims I'm a celebrity like him).

I giggled softly and shook my head, removing my hands from Levi and taking a small step back as he walked towards the door. I followed after him and got ready to glare at Jean, knowing he was the one who brought everyone here. As soon as the door opened, squeals sounded as they all exclaimed different things we could barely apprehend. "(Y/N)!!!!" Hanji pushed through everyone that had crowded around and brought me into a tight embrace. I groaned and rolled my eyes, hesitantly putting my arms around her. "I'm so happy! You've waited so long for this to happen!" I nervously laughed, not wanting Levi to know that I've liked him since he appeared. He lifted an eyebrow in my direction and I mouthed the words: 'help me' when Hanji still had me in her life-threatening hold. "Oi, Shitty Glasses, you're going to kill her." "Awwww, Shorty!!!" she screeched, pulling him into a hug now. "You're so cute!!" I laughed at his face and he shot me a glare, which seemed to have no effect on me as I continued to chuckle. He was finally able to shove the brunette lunatic off of him and took my hand, deciding to just barge past every idiot. We were able to make it out of there without them chasing after us like some predators. "... So you've waited for a long time for this? How long is a 'long time'?" "Uh, maybe... eight months?" I muttered, refusing to meet his eyes because I knew he would be smirking and he would just want to annoy the hell out of me. "So since we met?" he inquired, and I nodded. "You're telling me all this fucking time when I wondered who you like, it was me?" "Yes." "And is that why you didn't want to date Lucius?" "Yes." "I'm surprised you didn't expose yourself. Apart from that time when you were about to say it but stopped yourself. And you thought it was wrong in a way because I was with Petra?" "Yes." "And I heard from Petra that you helped her to get into a relationship with me even though you liked me at the time. Is that true?" "Yes." He smirked, seeing me act shy, which is something he rarely sees. "You're quiet now that I've found out who you like." "Where are we going, by the way? We're just walking," I said, brushing his statement to the side and regaining my confidence. "I don't know. I just wanted to get away from everyone," he replied, realising that he was still holding my hand, which was sweating. "Hey, why are you nervous? You don't need to be so tense." "I'm not nervous," I retorted. "Explain that to your drenched hand, darlin'," he snorted and I clicked my tongue, yanking my hand from his hold to flick his forehead, which caused him to briefly frown before he got hold of my hand again. "Shut up, prick." "Good. Now, you're back to normal." "Where are we actually going?" "I still don't know. But we're like a minute away from your apartment." "Don't you want to go home?" "You're finally speaking to me after like three weeks, I'm not going anywhere." "Aw, I never knew you would be the kind of person that always wants love and attention." "I'm not." "Whatever you say, Mr Moody. Hm. I'm going to love annoying you even more now." "Why do I even like you?" "Because I'm the best person ever who is very lovable and amazing." "Not one word you just said is true." "Shut it, Ackerman. You're not exactly--" I cut myself off, thinking what Levi wasn't since he's seriously the best fucking person to live. "Are you lost for words because I'm amazing in every way possible?" "No... I just didn't want to hurt your feelings." "Say what you want, darlin'." I rolled my eyes and fished my keys out of my bag to unlock the door. Once it was open, both of us stepped in, slipping our shoes off before I locked the door. We strolled to the living room and Levi sat down on the sofa. I was about to walk away but he grabbed my hand, pulling me onto him and I ended up on his lap, straddling him. He smirked, taking hold of my chin to tilt my head before moulding his lips with mine.

If dating Levi Ackerman meant getting kisses like these every ten minutes, I'm going to be living in heaven. I wonder if he was like this with Petra, or am I special? I sighed in delight when I felt his fingers sneak up my shirt and trace over my bare torso as his other hand travelled up my back to tangle in my tresses. My hands cupped either side of his face with my thumbs resting on his cheekbones. "AWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" My eyes snapped open at the sudden outburst and my lips parted from Levi's as my forehead rested against his. I huffed before getting off of his lap, looking at Hanji, Jean and Eren who decided to walk into the apartment without saying anything. "What the hell are you guys doing?" I snapped at them, meeting all of their eyes. My eyes lingered on Eren's for a bit longer than the other two before I frowned and didn't focus on any of them. "You could've at least said something instead of letting that kettle over there explode," I scolded them, motioning to Hanji, who was the aforementioned kettle. "Sorry, sorry!! Both of you are just so adorable!" Both of us clicked our tongues and I rolled my eyes.  "We came here to get away from people. So get the hell out." "Darlin', calm down," Levi said quietly before smirking. "You have a bedroom, don't you?" My eyes widened and I lifted my hand to slap him. "Hey, hey, hey, I was joking, you idiot. That's taking things too fast." "I bet you didn't say that to the many girls you--" "Oi, don't talk about that," he told me with a scowl. I guess it was a sensitive topic since he was probably annoyed at himself for being like that. Everything was now silent in the room. The three that were standing had no idea about what was going on, the raven next to me seemed to be thinking about his past, and I felt bad for bringing it up. No words were needed since there was nothing to ask about (other than what me and Levi were talking about but it's not like they were going to find out). "... Stop looking at me like that. You don't need to feel pity for me," he spoke in a light tone and tousled my hair, showing that he wasn't annoyed. "What are you guys talking about?" "Nothing, Shitty Glasses. Anyway, I think I'm going to go home," Levi announced as he stood up. "Oh, we can go if you want," Hanji suggested. "No, I didn't plan on staying long. I just wanted to get away from everyone that decided to snoop on us." "Sorry, that was my fault," Jean confessed. "It's fine. I'll see all of you later." Levi left the room and I followed after him, walking him to the door. I opened the door for him and he stepped out, turning around to face me. "You're being rather calm and kind today," I stated, leaning against the door as I held it open. "Well," he began, leaning towards me to peck my lips. "Your lips seem to put me in a good mood." "I doubt that but whatever you say, Ackerman... I'll see you tomorrow." "Six o'clock. Don't forget." "Okay." "You better not give me some shitty excuse about falling asleep." I laughed lightly. "I won't. Now, get your ass out of here." "Bye, darlin'." I smiled at him before he left, closing and locking the door behind him. Once I turned around, I saw three heads poking out from behind a wall. I giggled and ran towards them, jumping into them. "Ahh, I'm so happy!" I squealed as I clung onto Eren, who chuckled softly. "I never knew you liked Levi," Jean said with a frown. "Since when?" "Since we were--" I cut Hanji off since only Eren is allowed to know that we made him up.

"Since he joined our uni, I guess..." I told him, pulling away from Eren. "What?! Why did you never tell me?!" "Because I only trust Eren and Hanji, no matter how much of a big mouth she has." "And you call me your friend..." the teenager shook his head in disappointment and I smiled at him. "Oh, shut up, you know I love you." "(Y/N)! You haven't told me what happened!" Hanji demanded. "All we saw was you two kiss but we couldn't hear what you said." "I don't know if I will," I smirked, walking away from them and entering my bedroom, however, I left the door open so they all followed me. "Tell meeeeee!! Why was Shorty in such a good mood?" "I don't know~" I sang teasingly, enjoying Hanji's reaction. "Also, Eren, you haven't said anything. Are you annoyed?" "No." "Don't tell me you're still suspicious of him." "I'm not. I don't know. I'm happy for you, of course, but I just don't feel right." "Well, you said you don't think Levi was a good person at the start and you were clearly proved wrong. What's wrong now?" "He's jealous~!" Hanji exclaimed, hugging Eren's arm, and he frowned, attempting to shake her off as he felt his face heat up. "N-No, I'm not. Why would I be?" "Hanji, what idiocy are you talking about now?" I spat. "It's not idiocy, it's the truth!" she insisted. "People always point out how you have many fans. So how can the male closest to you not develop feelings for you?" I have to admit, she was making sense. But, this was Eren we were talking about. He wouldn't let himself fall for his best friend... Right? I flitted my eyes to Eren to see he was staring at the carpet in my room. I could see the pink hue on his cheeks and the way he avoided to look at me so I decided to question him. "Eren...?" I spoke, gaining his attention as Hanji led Jean out of my room, giving both of us some privacy. "Was Hanji saying the truth?" "... No..." he muttered before sighing and locking his eyes with mine that expressed disbelief. "... Fine. I did have feelings for you. But that was a few months ago, I don't anymore. I mean, there may have been other times when I think differently of you but I get over it every time. Don't worry, I'm not jealous. I honestly just feel like something's not right." "Well, thank you for being honest with me. And whatever's bothering you, I'm sure it's nothing. Just let me be happy because I'm finally dating my dream guy." "Yeah, I'm not going to ruin that for you. I'm not going to lie, you and Levi are actually cute together. I haven't seen you this happy in so long. And I know Levi will treat you right and I'm glad you met him." I gave him a soft smile and neared him, draping my arms around him and pressing my cheek against his chest as I closed my eyes, feeling his arms reciprocate the hug. "... I love you so much, Eren," I uttered quietly. "Love you, too," he replied, resting his chin at the top of my head. "Am I talking to the Eren that has feelings for me, or the one that's my best friend?" I asked jokingly, parting from the embrace. "Your best friend," he spoke with a small laugh. "Come on. Let's go to Jean and Hanji." I walked out of my room with Eren following me as we entered the living room where the two sat on the sofa, glancing at us. They saw the smile on my face and knew everything was okay.  The rest of the day, we just hung out like we would in secondary school, laughing, talking about shit no one would understand. However, seeing as how we all had lectures tomorrow (in the morning as well *eye roll*), we decided not to stay up too late (they ended up leaving at midnight). That night, I was able to sleep peacefully with a smile and nothing to worry about. ~/~ 17:38 That was the time. Twenty minutes until the time I had to be ready, and I'm guessing Levi, being the punctual asshole he is, will be outside the apartment at exactly six. However, as he predicted, I may or may have not fallen asleep and only had less than half an hour to get ready. I quickly sat up in my bed, chucking the covers off of my form as I ran my fingers through my hair, thinking what to wear. Ugh, why didn't I think about this earlier?

"(Y/N)! Wake-- Oh, you're awake. Isn't Levi coming in like twenty minutes?" Hanji said as she swung my door open. "Yes. I need clothes. Hanji, please help." "Of course! What kind of bestie would I be if I didn't help you get ready for your first date?" "Thank you so much," I sighed, getting out of my bed and opening the doors to my wardrobe. So many clothes to choose from. What outfit is the right one? "What kind of clothes do you want to wear? Girly, casual, comfy, sophisticated, etcetera..." "Um... Casual, I guess." She nodded, looking through my clothes with narrowed eyes and a thoughtful expression. Damn, she was serious about finding me the perfect clothes. After about two minutes, her whole face beamed up as she chucked some clothing at me. I blinked a couple of times, holding it up. It was a simple, white crop top hoodie and a pair of dark grey skinny jeans. I don't know if I felt like it so I stared at it for a moment, thinking if I wanted to wear it. "(Y/N), you have less than twenty minutes. Hurry up." "... Okay," I responded after concluding that this was the outfit I wanted. I shooed Hanji out of my room and changed into the clothes she chose for me. I looked in the mirror, feeling content with it until I glanced at my hair. It was a lost cause. Since I had only woken up about ten minutes ago, my hair looked like a nest and I still looked like I just woke up. I decided to go freshen up and brush my teeth since I'm certain my breath wasn't pleasant after sleeping. I came out of the bathroom and went to my bedroom, seeing I had exactly eight minutes left until six. Now was the time to rush. I did my hair and makeup to my liking, and when I was ready, I stuffed all the things I needed into a small purse. I sprayed myself with perfume and left my room, turning the light off as I padded through the corridor, slipping on my converses. Hanji spotted me in the corridor when she came out of the living room and grinned at me as I stared at my phone, checking the time and seeing Levi's messages, telling me he was outside. 18:02 Only two minutes. I'm proud of myself. "Have fun~!" "I'll tell you about it when I come back," I told her, seeing her grin widen. I left, shutting the door behind me and locking it before going down the stairs. Just before I stepped out of the building, I took a deep breath then stepped out, letting the warm, evening air engulf me as I spotted Levi's car parked in front of me and he leaned on it, scrolling through his phone until he locked it and looked up at me. I gave him a small smile, suddenly feeling nervousness spreading throughout my body. As I stood there, I took in his attire, which was a maroon dress shirt over a black t-shirt that was exposed because of the buttons that weren't done up. With that, he wore black jeans. "... You done staring, darlin'?" I slightly widened my eyes and realised I was gaping for too long. But seriously, the black shirt he wore underneath the dress shirt showed his perfectly, sculptured abs. I playfully rolled my eyes and approached him as he stepped away from the car, opening the passenger's door for me. I thanked him as I sat down and he shut the door before rounding the car and sitting in the driver's seat. I didn't know what to say so I quietly sat there as he began to drive, hoping that the raven would speak up instead. "I'm surprised you weren't asleep." "Haha, I actually was. I woke up about twenty minutes before you came." "I don't get how you can sleep so much even if you had a good amount of sleep." "Well, I didn't get enough sleep last night." "Were you too busy thinking of me?" "Don't flatter yourself," I retorted with a cocked eyebrow. "Jean and Eren stayed until late, so I wasn't able to sleep until they left, which was midnight." "Idiot," he whispered under his breath, and I glared at him. Though, his eyes were on the road.

"Shut up. It's not my fault," I scowled before silence took over again. "... What are we doing, by the way?" "Mini-golf. Grab takeaway. Chill at mine." "Hm. I like that idea," I smiled. "How did you know I would like what you planned?" "You were the one that claimed that I know everything about you. I guess I do." My smile widened. There's so much to remember about me and my life, it's impressive that he remembered small details. I guess he chose mini golf because he knew that I always used to go with my dad when I was younger. Getting takeaway and relaxing at home was something I loved to do, so it was probably obvious that I would like that. "Ackerman?" "Hm?" "Since when did you... like me?" "Why do you want to know?" "You know how long I have." "... To be honest, about two months after we met. But then that was around the time you introduced me to Petra and we started to hang out less. Unlike you, a weirdo, Petra was normal and a kind-hearted person, and I don't know, I just liked being around her. But, after a while, I realised that I didn't want normal, I wanted... you," he muttered the last word, and even though it was dark, I could see the tip of his ears burning. "You're so adorable when you're shy," I blurted out. "Also, 'I wanted you'... Why do you have to be so--?" I cut myself off, not wanting to boost his ego so he could annoy me. There was just something about that sentence that made me fall for him even more (if that was possible). "So...?" "Nothing. Continue.” "Okay... It was my fault for initiating anything, and even though she says she's fine with us, she's obviously still hurt. I don't know how she found out that I like you, but it was about halfway through our relationship when I realised that even though you're a weirdo and perv, it's more fun than someone normal. Don't get me wrong, Petra is a really sweet girl, but she was too normal for me... Feelings and relationships are confusing as hell." "I know," I said as I stared out of the window, taking in everything Levi said. "I don't understand why my two relationships lasted four or five months. I mean, I guess I do get it - I felt like I was forcing things with Jean, and Reiner was a dickhead. But why can't I have a long-lasting relationship?" Levi was silent, thinking about my words. Maybe we'll have a long-lasting relationship. Unlike her two previous relationships, there's nothing wrong with us dating. And unlike mine, I don't have feelings for anyone else. It was another five minutes until we reached the mini-golf site, and those five minutes were spent in a comfortable silence as both of us were drowned in our thoughts. "Hey? Darlin'?" "Sorry?" I spoke, turning my head away from the window to look at the male beside me. "We're here," he told me with a microscopic smile. "Oh, right." I grabbed my purse and opened the door, stepping out of the car before shutting the door. Levi locked his car and approached me with a certain glint in his eyes. I mentally smiled and reluctantly reached for his hand, my small fingers intertwining with his and he tightened the hold on my hand. Without my permission, a full-on grin sprung onto my lips as I mused on the fact that I was going on an actual date with Levi Ackerman. "What are you smiling about?" the short male inquired. "..." "Oi. You look like a creep now," he said when I didn't say anything, and only kept on grinning. "Hey, are you okay?" A frown wandered its way onto his face and he poked my cheek. Well, I always seem to love to just zone out so maybe he shouldn't be too concerned. I blinked twice, not realising I had just zoned out. "... I'm fine." "Are you sure?" "Yep," I assured him with a nod. He raised an eyebrow and I smiled up at him, causing a smile of his own to appear since he found mine adorable as fuck. ~/~ A light chuckle emanated from his lips when I attempted to hit the golf ball, but failed miserably. I may have gotten rusty over the years because years ago, I was remarkable. The raven came behind me, his torso barely brushing my back and I tried to fight back the blush. Since when did I act like a flustered schoolgirl around boys I liked?

His arms looped around me to hold the golf club my fingers were wrapped around. He then spoke, his breath caressing my neck and ear, "I swear, if you miss this, it's going to be hard for me to believe that you used to win tournaments. It's literally a millimetre away from the pocket and I'm helping you, so you better not fuck this up." I scoffed, lightly pushing him away from me but that didn't stop him from invading my personal space. "I do not need help, thank you very much. And that is not a millimetre, idiot, it's like a foot." "Shut up and take the shot; this is the last one." "If I get it in, what do I get in return?" "Another date." "Really? So you had fun?" "... Yes. Just hurry up." "Okay," I grinned. I took the shot and it went in. Obviously. Because I'm amazing. "Well done, darlin'. And before you say anything - yes, we are getting food now." I giggled and walked beside him as we went back to his car, deciding on what to eat. "I honestly don't mind. Pick whatever," I stated. "You better not complain about what I pick." "I won't. You know I'm not fussy with food, I'll literally eat anything." After some additional thinking, Levi asked if I felt like Chinese. Of course, no one could ever say no to that, so we got takeaway from the best Chinese restaurant I've been to before we drove to his apartment. "Isabel and Farlan aren't here, by the way," Levi informed me as he parked a short distance away. Both of us got out of the car and the male with steel orbs held the bag of our food. "Where did they go?" "I have no idea. But they both immediately decided to go out when I told them about our date." I smiled at the gesture. "Aw, they're so cute. I guess I'll need to thank them."

Levi unlocked the door and let me go inside first as he followed me, locking the door before taking his shoes off. I strolled towards the living room and flicked the light switch, illuminating the room. "You better not make a mess, brat." "Clean freak," I mumbled as I sat down next to him on the sofa. "What'd you say?" his inquired, narrowing his eyes. "Nothing, Shorty," I grinned with a wink. "Tch. Do you want to watch anything?" he asked, giving me my food and a fork. He stood up and went to the kitchen before coming back with two glasses and a bottle of soda. "I don't mind." "Are there any other words in your dictionary, other than 'I don't mind'?" "Well, I'll be happy with whatever which is why I say that most of the time." "Why are you so... not fussy?" "Why is that a bad thing?" I laughed. “And you only say that because you haven’t spent a specific day with me.” "What day?" "You'll know when it comes," I smiled, causing him to feel a bit uneasy. "You're making it sound like you become some beast or something." "Haha, you're not wrong." "You're scaring the hell out of me. Just tell me what and when it is." "I'm only going to tell you when it is. It might be next week." "Okay... I'm avoiding you for the next week." "Oi! You're so rude-- Hey, wait, I swear next week is our last week of the year." "Yeah." "So we have holidays. Oh my god. We're going to be in our second year of uni in a few months. Damn, time goes too fast. I don't even have plans." "Well, we have another date to plan. But I'm doing that after next week because I don't want to see you in beast mode." "Oh, yeah, I was meant to be shouting at you for being rude... You're so rude, you prick!" "I know, darlin'." "You know, if you add a 'g' at the end, you'll sound less like an asshole and more like a sweetheart." "Which is exactly why I won't add the 'g'."

"Jerk," I murmured before drinking the cool beverage in my glass.  We continued to eat while conversing about random shit that before we both cleared the coffee table that resided in front of the sofa.

I plopped down next to him on the sofa and rested my head on his shoulder, tucking my legs in on the sofa as an unexpected yawn left my mouth. "Why do I suddenly feel so tired?" I muttered, closing my eyes. "Do you want to go home?" Levi inquired softly. I shook my head, wanting to spend more time with him. "Are you sure?" "Yep. I'm just going to close my eyes for two minutes." Two minutes turned into twenty and I fell asleep without meaning to. "Hey?" Levi whispered, nudging me ever so lightly but I didn't open my eyes. "Darlin'?" he said quietly again, poking my cheek and I didn't awaken. "Two minutes, my ass," he murmured. The short raven found it difficult to move since my whole body was now leaning against his. About ten minutes later, Levi heard the opening of the front door which meant that Isabel and Farlan were home. The blonde male came into sight with the female trailing behind him. They both stared at the view in front of them, grinning and mouthing 'aw's, causing the raven to roll his eyes. "Farlan, can you pick her up without waking her up?" "Yeah. Where should I lay her down?" "... Put her in my bed. I'll sleep here on the sofa." "Are you sure?" Levi nodded as Farlan scooped me up and carried me to Levi's bed. Levi and Farlan shared a room as Isabel had her own, which made Isabel question if Levi was okay with Farlan sleeping in the same room as me. "Farlan won't do anything to anger me, it's fine." "Okay, then. Also, you seem different with (Y/N). Like, you treat her differently to Petra. Not in a bad way, though, you're more... caring and cute!" "Tch. Whatever. I just don't get how she fell asleep when it's only ten o'clock and she had a nap earlier." "Leave her alone. She's a sweetheart and there's nothing wrong with sleeping," Isabel told her friend with a frown, seeming to take a strong liking to me. Farlan came back into the room, sitting down next to Levi. "Anyway, I'm tired because of uni so I'm going to head to bed." "Okay." "Night, Isabel," Farlan smiled and the hyper female left the room. "... You are more caring towards (Y/N)." "I'm not." "Why are you denying it? It's not necessarily a bad thing. I guess you like her a lot more than Petra." "... Yeah, I do. She's not like other girls," Levi admitted as he leaned back against the cushion of the sofa, staring up at the ceiling as his best friend smiled. "I never knew that someone like her would be my type. She's nothing like me." "You two are a kind of similar, she's just more happy and smiley. However, she acts tough, loves to tease and annoy people she values, gets annoyed at things but still isn't as bothered as she seems to be. Both of you are just big softies on the inside." "Tch. We aren't similar. She would never purposefully hurt someone, she does selfless acts even if it will hurt her, and she's just a--..." "What? Why did you pause?" "I sound like an idiot. Thinking about a girl I went on one date with." "But you've known her for longer, it's not anything weird." "I don't like it. I sound cheesy and not like me." Farlan chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. "Soon enough, you'll be all lovey-dovey with her." Levi snorted. "Never." The taller male smiled and stood up. "I'm going to have a shower and go to bed. Night, Levi." "Touch her and you'll be sorry," the raven threatened, half-serious, half-joking. He then sighed, getting up to grab a pillow and blanket before settling back onto the sofa. He turned the TV on, seeing as how he wasn't going to sleep anytime soon.

~/~ Blinking a few times, my vision cleared as my gaze bounced around the room I was in. I then sat up, confused since I remember falling asleep in the living room, beside Levi. I glanced at the bed on the other side of the room and saw Farlan's sleeping face. I tilted my head in question before laying back down, knowing Levi or Farlan must have moved me here. That meant Levi was probably on the sofa. A small huff left my lips as I searched the bed for my phone that must have fallen out of my pocket during my slumber. I soon found it and lifted it to my face, seeing six missed calls from Hanji, along with several messages from her and one from Levi. Of course, Hanji would be worried about me since she wasn't informed that I fell asleep and hadn't heard from me since I left for my date. I decided to respond to her troubled texts and put her mind at ease, telling her what happened. Once I did that, I checked what Levi sent me. 'Did Farlan do anything to you?’ I rolled my eyes at this before responding with a simple 'no'. I soon got out of bed and left the room quietly, so Farlan doesn't wake up. Entering the living room, I saw Levi lying down on the sofa, covered with a blanket as he was on his phone until he heard my small 'hey'. He turned his head to look at me and discarded his phone. "Sorry about falling asleep and making you sleep on the sofa." "I don't care. Go freshen up while I make breakfast." Why does it feel as if this is a normal morning routine? Like I've lived here for a long time. I guess I treated him the same when he stayed over at my apartment. I did as he said and realised how bad my bed hair was so I tugged my fingers through it as an attempt to fix it. But they decided to be stubborn and I gave up, walking out of the bathroom to meet Levi in the kitchen. I peeked over his shoulder to see what he was making and he glanced at me from the side, quickly pecking my temple. "How does everything you make always smell so good?" "Because I'm an amazing cook." I playfully rolled my eyes as he continued to make breakfast. We spoke as he did that before we migrated to the dining table to eat, where we carried on our conversation. Once we finished the food, Levi stood up and took our plates, placing it in the kitchen before coming back to me. "Let's go out. The weather's nice,” he proposed. "But I don't have any clothes to change into." "You can borrow Isabel's." "She's smaller than me." "Tch. Just try something of her's on. She's already awake." "Should I borrow that unicorn shirt?" I smirked, reminding him of the incident that happened months ago. He glared at me before leaving to take me to Isabel's room. He knocked a couple of time before she gave permission for us to come in. "Oh, hi, (Y/N)!" she grinned, shooting up into a sitting position. "Hey," I greeted with a smile. "Isabel, can (Y/N) borrow one of your clothes, something that will fit her?" "Of course! What do you want to wear?" "Maybe a dress?" "Sure. Give me a few minutes." "Thank you so much." Levi and I wandered out of her room and waited for Isabel in the living room. It was quiet until the male opposite me spoke up, "... You can count this as a second date." "Already?" I inquired. "Yeah. Because... you're an adorable shit."

[f00pyf00p]

Beyond The Darkness Lies Light

Fandom: Sanders Sides  Characters: Logan, Virgil, Janus  Rating: Mature  Relationships: Romantic Analogical Warnings: Violence, Implied Rape, Abusive Relationships, Flashbacks, Nightmares, PTSD, Unsympathetic Deceit, Crying, Angst and Hurt/Comfort Word count: 2270 Summary: Logan awoke in a puddle of his own sweat. It was dark- dark enough that he couldn’t tell if that shadow on the wall was Janus or just- He flicked the light switch next to him. The room was empty. Other Notes: Analogical Week Day 3: Nightmares/Dreams @analogicalweek

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Logan had already been tense when Janus turned to him. His boyfriend’s eyes were narrowed, breathing harsh, and when he reached for Logan’s wrist, Logan couldn’t help but to flinch away.

That didn’t stop Janus’ hand from closing around it and slamming it up against his bedroom wall.

“Where were you?”

His voice was practically a growl and as he said it he boxed Logan into the corner, so there was nowhere to run, nowhere to go but to him. Logan looked at the floor but Janus’s other hand grabbed the sides of his face and forced him to meet his eyes.

“I asked you a question, you complete dunce. Where. Were. You.”

“I- I was-”

“You- you were,” Janus mocked. His hand tightened around Logan’s wrist and the other one dropped his head to fully slam him in the stomach.

Logan doubled over, the only thing keeping him up that firm, impossible grip.

“I was at my mom’s.” Logan’s voice was practically a whisper and edged with pain. “I promise, I wasn’t-”

“Do you remember the rules?”

“Our dog had just died, she said she needed-”

Another punch, this one to the face. “Do you remember the rules, Bonehead?”

Logan whimpered. “Yeah. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-”

Janus’s hand hauled him back to his feet. Logan kept his gaze on the wood beams of the floor, falling silent as Janus’s hand grazed the bruise he had just planted on him.

“You.” A slap to the face. “Don’t.” Another in the same spot. “Go.” A knee to his groin. Logan nearly slipped down the wall, but Janus kept him standing. “Anywhere.” He backhanded him on the other cheek. “Without me.”

Logan was quick to nod.

“Get on the bed.”

“Please-”

“Get on the bed, Logan.”

The hand fell off his wrist, exposing layers of dark purple handprints. Janus didn’t need to tell him again as Logan took a step forward, towards their shared bed, towards-

Logan awoke in a puddle of his own sweat. It was dark- dark enough that he couldn’t tell if that shadow on the wall was Janus or just-

He flicked the light switch next to him.

The room was empty.

Obviously, you complete idiot.

He winced at the voice- the voice that was definitely not his- and dropped back onto the sheets. Breath came unsteadily, fiercely, and tears pricked at the edges of Logan’s eyes. Before he could get a proper grip on himself, a loud sob poured out of him which was enough to trigger the avalanche that came after.

Gods, he was pathetic. It was a dream. It was just a dream. He had escaped Janus years ago. He was safe, he had moved, and there was no way for Janus to ever get to him again.

He was fine.

Fine.

Another sob ripped out of him. Logan rolled to the other half of his bed, leaving a trail of sweat as he did so, and curled into a ball under the covers.

He was fine.

He was home.

He was safe.

But no matter how many times Logan repeated it, he couldn’t quite make himself believe it.

Logan’s hand swept out towards his bedside table- maybe for his glasses, to turn on another light, he couldn’t quite be sure, but either way, what his hand fell on was his fully charged cell phone.

He knew what he wanted before he had fully comprehended it. His thumb pressed against the home button, fingers rapidly working to find the phone app, until he finally opened to the recent calls section and clicked the very first name on the list.

He pressed it up to his ear.

It rang once.

Twice.

He probably wasn’t even awake, Logan told himself. It was- he glanced at the alarm clock- 2:21 in the morning. There was no need for Virgil to be awake, and frankly, it would actually be troubling if he did pick up the phone.

At least, that’s what Logan was telling himself.

“What’s up?” The voice was slightly crackly, rough and Logan found that the very sound of it forced another sob out of his throat.

That definitely put the voice on alert. “L? L, you okay? What’s wrong?”

“I-I’m fine.” Logan choked on his own words. “Hi, Vir-Virgil.”

“Hello yourself. What’s going on?”

“I…” Another sob tore through him. “I’m not actually sure why-why I called.”

“That’s okay.” There was a ruffling on the other side of the phone, followed by a loud zipper. “Do you want to talk?”

Did he? Not really. Re-visiting the dream right now felt like rubbing salt into an old wound, one that had yet to close. One Logan wasn’t sure he would ever be able to fully close.

So why had he called? What had his body known he needed before his brain could fully catch up with his instincts?

“I-” Logan swallowed. “I want you.”

“Okay.” Thumping noises. Virgil must be walking around. “Can you tell me what happened?”

Logan wiped his eyes with his arm. “It’s stupid.”

“I don’t think you’re capable of that, Logan.” Virgil was interrupted by… was that an engine? “And if you’re upset, I want to listen.”

Logan’s heart lurched forward and a fresh wave of tears completely undid all the work he had done in cleaning himself up. There was a quiet noise from outside his window and Logan instantly curled closer around himself, mewling softly.

“L.” Virgil’s voice was unbearably soft. “L, I’m coming to your apartment. I’ll be there in five minutes. Okay?”

Normally, Logan would protest. He should protest now; it had just been a nightmare and nightmares were nothing, nightmares didn’t matter-

A car roared down by his window and Logan whimpered.

“Yes, please.”

“I’ll stay on the phone with you while I’m getting there.”

“Yes, please.”

“L, do you want to talk about what happened?”

It was almost the same question as earlier, but it was so unbearably soft, so unbearably understanding that Logan found the easy “no” from earlier wasn’t one he could summon. He closed his tears and huddled closer to his phone as if Virgil himself could appear through the screen.

“I experienced a dream. About… him.”

Virgil's silence was deafening and Logan almost apologized, for calling him, for waking him, especially over something as stupid as a nightmare, when finally his boyfriend spoke.

“I’m going to kill him.” Virgil let out a breath. “Not helpful. Sorry. Um. You’re not dumb, Logan. I can’t imagine… What you’re feeling right now is valid. Okay? Everything that’s happening right now is valid.”

“He’s not even here.” Logan's voice cracked on the last word.

“The memory of what he did to you is, L. Especially after something as triggering as a nightmare. Okay? It’s okay.” There was a pause and then Virgil spoke again, much more muffled and clearly not to Logan. “Turn left here please. Thank you.”

Logan sank back into the cushions, staying curled in the tight ball from earlier.

“My car is about to pull on your street, L.” Virgil’s voice was as patient as ever. “I’ll be there soon. I’m going to hang up for right now, okay?”

Logan gave a quiet murmur in response. He wiped his tears away a third time, and this time, they didn’t replenish and undo all his hard work.

There was a knock on his front door and then a creak as it opened. And even though he knew it was Virgil, even though he knew it wasn’t him, Logan's heart stopped and his entire body froze.

“Logan?”

The voice helped. The knock on his bedroom door did as well simply because Janus had never bothered.

“Logan? Can I come in?”

Logan swallowed. “Y-yeah.”

“Can I turn on the light? More than just your bedside lamp I mean.”

Yes, please, thank you thank you thank you-

“Yeah.”

He blinked blearily against the sudden shine from above, choosing to curl away from it rather than towards it. There was a sudden sinking in the bed behind him and Logan refroze immediately.

“Logan, can I touch you?” The voice cracked in the middle of the sentence but came much stronger at the end. A kind of firmness that came to it only when someone was desperately trying not to fall apart.

He didn’t want to upset Virgil.

“I don’t think so,” he whispered. “At the moment, I believe it’ll resend me into a state of panic.”

“Okay. Do you want to talk about your nightmare?”

Logan didn’t. But he had finally managed to stop crying, and his therapist had told him that talking was helpful. So he opened his mouth and launched into it, leaving out only the things that he still couldn’t handle passing his lips. And by the end of it, it was like a weight had been lifted off of his chest, especially as Virgil muttered darkly;

“I’ll cut his fucking hands off.” He twitched, which Logan only was sure occurred because the entire bed moved with him. “Sorry. Still not helpful. You know everything you feel right now is normal, right Logan? Revisiting a memory like that…” Virgil swallowed. “You’re very brave.”

Logan wiped his eyes again and slowly unfurled from his ball and flipped over to meet the watery eyes of his boyfriend. Virgil smiled sadly, and his hands twitched towards him before they were firmly placed in his lap.

Logan cleared his throat. “Above the waist is fine. And not… not my face.”

A very very dark look crossed Virgil’s face but it was banished just as quickly. Logan closed his eyes as a hand gently landed on his shoulder and smoothed light circles into his sweat nightshirt. The motion helped steady him, and Logan matched his breaths to the rhythm, slowly evening everything out.

He moved and the hand froze in place. Logan slowly drew himself up and collapsed onto Virgil’s side, ducking his head onto Virgil’s chest and curling two arms around his middle.

Slowly, uncertainly, Virgil wrapped an arm around Logan. He was very careful to keep his touch to his chest, one arm curling to hold him around his back and the other gently falling beside it.

“Sorry I woke you up,” Logan whispered.

“Oh, shut up.” Virgil’s tone was as light as he could make it with the rumble of empathy behind it. “I always want to be woken up for this, L.”

Logan’s arm tightened around Virgil and he buried his face into Virgil’s chest.

He didn’t know how long they lay there. How long he concentrated on evening out his breathing, how long he worked to stifle the memories that kept threatening to overflow him, but he knew eventually his concentration lay not with Janus- not fully at least- but rather with the slickness covering him.

Slowly, Logan pushed from Virgil’s chest so he was sitting up on his bed. With one arm, he dried off what was left on his face and reached for his glasses on the nightstand.

Virgil watched him with cautious, adoring eyes. Just the look of him helped Logan to breathe.

“I’m…” Logan shoved the glasses up his nose. “I believe the next best step would be for me to take a shower. I’m currently a mess.”

“You’re beautiful,” Virgil said sincerely. Logan fixated him with a look and a bit of a smile appeared on Virgil’s face. “I mean, you look a bit ruffled, but I still find you adorable.”

Logan slowly leaned forward and gently pressed a kiss to Virgil’s lips. Virgil responded carefully, slowly. His hands remained by his sides and he let Logan lead them through it until Logan pulled back.

“Thank you,” Logan murmured.

Virgil swallowed noisily. “Of course. Why don’t you go take a shower, and I’ll see if I can find something in your refrigerator to eat?”

Logan nodded.

His shower was as hot as he could make it without burning his skin, and he got the feeling as he scrubbed, that he wasn’t just trying to remove the fine layer of crusted water and salt spread across his skin.

Once he was out, Logan changed into a long-sleeve shirt and a pair of long pajama pants. He glanced over at the clock and winced.

4:07 in the morning.

Tomorrow- or rather today, Logan supposed- would be quite the thing to work through.

He shuffled into his kitchen and found Virgil setting pancakes out across it. Logan blinked.

“I wasn’t aware I had ingredients for pancakes.”

“I bought you that mix where you just add water about three months ago.” Virgil raised his eyebrows. “It hadn’t been opened yet.”

Logan shrugged.

While the two of them ate, Virgil launched into a story about the animal shelter he worked at, going into unnecessary detail over a dog who had bitten a stick in a bad enough way to get it stuck in between his teeth and the work Virgil had to do to get it out.

Logan had never been more appreciative of Virgil than he was at that moment.

When they finished eating, Virgil dropped off the plates in Logan’s sink. Logan watched him with large glassy eyes and Virgil swallowed thickly, a hand reaching out for him that froze halfway there.

“Can I-”

“You can touch me.” Logan cleared his throat. “Anywhere- Anywhere is fine.”

Hands curled into his hair and Virgil gently hugged Logan’s head to his stomach. Logan wrapped both of his arms around Virgil's waist and let out a long breath.

“I love you,” Logan whispered.

The hands tightened around him. “I love you too.”

[aerielz]

come and untangle me one of these days

- a dream. a mistake. company, to make it better.

This is for and because of everyone in the original Flower Shop!AU post notes, specially @claudiasjeancregg and @stars-on-the-cuffs-of-her-jeans. You guys went waaaay too fast and I’m still trying to put Donna in here let alone everyone else, but I do hope everyone enjoys this! Title from Come and Find Me, by Josh Ritter. I feel like everything I’ll ever write for this AU will be somehow based off this song, tbh.

fandom: the west wing pairings: JD, CJ/Toby wc: 2453 rating: gen tag: flowershop au

He wakes up at the crack of dawn, stirred by some weird dream he can’t quite remember — some bittersweet memory. The coffee he takes washes away the sweetness and he’s left with only the bitter of it, stuck to the back of his throat.

He leaves the house, then. The streets are still somewhat deserted, but, much like his hometown, DC never really sleeps. Toby walks the five minutes from his house to the shop, and watches as the sun comes up behind the Capitol dome.

Walking into the storefront proves itself a bigger hazard than his own mood, though, as he is almost run over by a flurry of blonde as soon as he steps through the threshold— “Wow.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry!,” Donna is already there, crossing quickly towards a table under the wall-to-wall window with a spray bottle in hand and talking into a phone she holds with her shoulder. “Oh— no, no, don’t worry, that was just Mr. Ziegler. Yes, of course. Yeah. Yeah, I’ll let him know, don’t— tomorrow? That should be hard, how about Saturday? Okay. Okay, thank you so much, Dr. Bartlett.”

“Donna,” he says when she hangs up.

“Shouldn’t we receive a shipment of sunflowers this weekend?” She sprays a mist over an arrangement of daisies.

It's too early for this. Too early for and her energy and her incessant talking, but somehow Toby can never be mad at Donna. Even when she sends congratulatory arrangements to funerals by accident. Even when she turns around still spraying, causing him to find himself inside a cloud.

“Donna—”

“We’ll sure need them, Dr. Bartlett just called saying that Liz will be home for the weekend.”

"How many times I have to tell you to never call me Mr. Ziegler?"

"Should I call you Mr. Grumpy, then?"

"It's Mr. nothing, Donna."

"Oh, c'mon. Don’t be so harsh on yourself,” she jokes. But her quip lacks the bite and the sparkle, and Toby finally notices it — she was here before sunup, too.

He barely has time to register the conversation and that last fact when the bell above the door rings behind him. His heart skips a beat.

Donna looks up to check and her eyes widen, just a little bit. Just enough.

“Oh, God, no, not him,” he mutters to himself.

“Can anyone tell me what magnolias are supposed to stand for?”

Toby sighs, closing his eyes.

“This is a flower shop,” he says, turning around, “can’t say much about trees.”

Josh Lyman, arrogant extraordinaire, flashes a smirk, shrugging apologetically. "Maybe you should start thinking about expanding."

He swagger his way further into the shop, stopping just beside him.

“I—,” she says, putting a strand of hair behind her ear, “Well, actually flowers from magnolias are very common in bridal bouquets. They’re these beautiful, delicate, things, they’re supposed to be all about purity and nobility.”

This is why he keeps her here, Toby thinks. For every fact about flowers that he doesn’t know, Donna knows five he’s pretty sure no one but her knows about. But she looks down to the floor, and Toby thinks she sounds sad, somehow.

“Well, that..." Josh’s smirk quickly turns into a grimace. "That makes sense."

“The more you know,” he says, clapping his hands against his legs. "Well, you got your answer, then."

"Yeah, maybe... maybe we should focus on some other flower," Josh says.

Toby is more than ready to focus on showing Josh the door when—

The bell rings again.

Sam walks in, saying, "Oh. And here I was thinking I was gonna be the first."

Toby runs a hand over his face and takes a glance at his wristwatch. It’s barely seven. "Why are you all even up?"

"No reason," Josh answers. It's way too quick, but he's not about to question him.

"The magnolias, they..." Donna looks up directly at Josh, "Why you ask?"

"I— uh."

"Magnolias!," chimes in Sam, leaving his shoulder bag in a corner and sitting on top of the sales counter, right beside Donna, "Such pretty flowers! We're doing bridal bouquets, now? We should, the marriage stuff really is great business."

"Oh, God, no," Josh mutters.

"It really is!,” Sam continues, “There’s definitely money in the sector, and it’s not like it’s an unpleasant job. Donna here, for example, would love it. Anyone with a knack for romance would, really.”

“You work the afternoon shift,” Toby tells Sam, exasperated and already so, so, tired. “On weekends. What the hell are you doing here?”

“I have no idea, Josh was the one who called me.”

“And you came?”

"Absolutely," says Sam, almost triumphant. “I mean why not?”

“I can think of at least, I don’t know, twenty reasons.”

“Well, I like to help my friends when I can, Toby. For the same reasons I think we should really start doing weddings.”

“Unbelievable,” he cries out, “How did we even get to this point of the conversation, we are not doing weddings, what’s wrong with you?”

“I’m a romantic—”

“Yeah, that explains it.”

“—and you know what, I think you are one, too. I think most, if not all, of us here are. Or you're gonna tell me you wouldn't like the sight of the love of your life, surrounded by blooms and blossoms, walking her way towards you? Or, or— maybe doing that walk yourself, that would probably be quite an experience, right? C’mon, Donna, you look like someone who dreams about a big wedding, tell ‘em."

"I... really rather not."

"God, kill me. Right now," Josh mutters a bit too loud, "Just kill me."

Toby notices, strangely enough, that Donna seems to second that thought, but the impression barely has time to settle in because at that exact moment the door opens again. But instead of the light, almost quiet, chime of the bell, they hear a sharp shrill and a loud thud, from the door connecting violently with the wall.

"Joshua Lyman, I will have you hanged," a familiar voice booms.

"I didn’t mean literally," Josh whispers to no one.

"What the actual f— I mean, really, I am never leaving you in charge of the schedule again. Amy just called me asking for your head and I’m pretty sure Joey wants your nuts served on sterling silver — why the hell did you think it was a good idea to have everyone here at like six in the morning, Joshua?"

“Look—”

“Choose your next words carefully because in order for you to keep your internal organs on the inside of your body this will have to be really good.”

His answer ends up not coming in words at all, but in a pleading look — the wide eyes of a man who needs help.

The room awaits silently for Josh's defense, but Toby is looking at CJ, who, for some reason, seems to have a monopoly on his attention whenever she's in the room. And so he catches the moment when her gazes subtly travel to Donna's face. He follows just as carefully, to find her sniffling quietly, cleaning her eyes with the sleeves of her cardigan.

CJ swallows and tracks her eyes back to Josh. Something passes between the two, some understanding, that Toby is not privy to.

“Well." She sighs, rage completely gone. Everyone looks at her. "Since we’re here... maybe... we could all just have something nice to eat...? My treat.”

Josh is visibly relieved.

"I'll take you up on that," Sam says, "I haven't eaten a thing yet."

"You left home without eating?," Donna asks.

"I'm not used to waking up this early."

"Well, let's put some kind of food inside you then," CJ says.

"And coffee," he completes.

They all walk to the nearest café together, finding Bonnie on her bike on her way to work. She unmounts and joins them. Ginger arrives later, when they're all making a fuss over latte flavours, chipping in too. Seasonal spices are seasonal, that's why they're special!, cries out Donna. Nonsense, says Josh, what if I want pumpkin spice all year round, what's wrong with that?

Toby is equal parts impressed and not at all by Josh having an elaborate coffee order. He's hanging back behind the group, watching them have fun with nothing but their own friendship, when CJ finds him.

"What about you, Tobus, gonna drown yourself in cinnamon and allspice, too?," she asks.

He lets himself laugh, "I don't think I have it in me to drink something that complicated."

"A simple man, huh."

"You could say that," he tries and fails to hide a smile.

"I have just the thing."

She enters the line and comes back two minutes later, shoving a blueberry muffin into his hands.

"You didn't have to."

She's the one smiling, then. "I know."

CJ looks up ahead at the rest of their party and her gaze falls on Donna, going soft when she watches how openly the woman laughs while trying to argue some sense into Josh about something as innocuous as coffee.

“Why do I have the impression you know something about my own employee that I don’t...?," Toby asks, then takes a bite from his muffin. It's a bit too sweet for him, but it tastes good. It feels good, like replenishing something inside him.

“I... might.”

“CJ.”

“I’m not supposed to say anything.”

“Those flower arrangements, you like them a lot, right.”

“You don’t play fair.”

“It’s why I’ll never be a professional baseball player.”

“Could've had a chance with the Red Socks team of nineteen—”

“You don’t know anything about baseball, stop obfuscating.”

She sighs, sagging.

“She was supposed to be getting married today.”

Toby chokes on a piece of his muffin. CJ gives him a slap on the back.

“Married?”, he all but yells, between coughs.

“Keep your voice down!”

“What do you mean married?,” he whisper-yells, “You’re telling me she was supposed to marry that asshole?”

“We all make mistakes.”

“Voice of experience?”

“I’m a tattoo artist, Tobias, I have seen things.”

"Married," he repeats. "Married! She's, what, twenty-five? And she's supposed to be getting married to— to a guy who wanted her to throw her entire life away to—"

"I shouldn't have told you anything."

"—what, pay his bills?!"

He breathes in deeply and takes a big bite out of his muffin, knowing the sugar will help him cool down.

It must be quite a picture, his beard covered in crumbs while he munches angrily, because CJ looks at him like she’s about to burst into laughter.

“What?”

"I swear to god between you and Josh the girl’s got more protection than a mafia daughter.”

"Josh knows?," that explains a lot, he thinks. "You're not very good at keeping secrets are you."

"Listen pal, I am very good at it, I just... She needed help, okay?"

"And you think we’re the right people to help her?"

He's not being skeptical, he really isn't. But Donna’s far away from home, and she’s bound to be missing more substantial support. It is true that CJ has a way of making him feel better by just being there, though, and to be fair it is a general talent of hers. Regardless of his protests both her and Josh, they do this, somehow. They arrive, arguing over something tiny, and he forgets he’s worried about anything.

"Yeah, I mean," she shrugs, "isn’t that what friends are for?"

Toby looks up ahead at the people who came around the shop, and all the way here, too, just to keep each other company.

“I think it might work,” CJ concludes.

Between their party and the sugar in his system, he can’t remember what was it that upset him so much that morning.

They all sit on a big table outside the shop, still discussing seasonal lattes. Sam remembers some of his favorites, recalling one or two that never came back another year. Ginger and Bonnie share hot chocolate recipes, and Donna makes notes.

The sun settles itself in the sky and shines down warmly. The District starts moving faster, getting into the gears of the day.

Their regular opening hour approaches.

CJ rises from her place beside Toby and motions with her head for Josh to follow her.

“It's been nice to be robbed blind by a coffee shop chain for your benefit, but we better get to work.”

“Thanks for coming around,” Donna tells her, “I've been having a couple of rough days and…this helped.”

“You should come up to the shop, if it happens again,” CJ says. “Just to hang around. There's always someone there to keep you company.”

“Come today, even,” Josh completes, “I think Amy might not murder me if there’s witnesses.”

“Today's probably not gonna happen,” Donna answers, “We'll be doing some new arrangements, for a while, Dr. Bartlett called.”

“MD or PhD?”

“It’s a lot of work anyway, so does it really matter?”

Josh smiles, shaking his head, “I guess not.”

Is there someone he didn't call?, Toby thinks.

Josh and CJ bid the rest of the table goodbye and head in the direction of their shop. The conversation around them resumes, but Donna is chewing on her lips instead of jumping in to refute Sam's argumentation over croissants.

She steals a glance to watch their backs retreat on the sidewalk, but, before they can get too far, Donna bolts from her seat and stops Josh with a hand on his forearm.

“Josh.”

He stops and looks back. “Yeah?”

She hesitates. When she speaks, it is just loud enough for him to hear.

"Why did you ask about the magnolias?"

She notices she’s still holding him by his shirt and lets go of it, but Josh slides his hand into hers. "Someone came into the shop yesterday to get them done. They reminded me of you.”

He gives her hand a squeeze, that she returns. They share a smile.

“Maybe I could come around tomorrow?,” she says.

“Yeah,” he nods, “Yeah, I think I’d like that. See you tomorrow, then.”

A few steps behind Josh, CJ is watching them, too.

She finds Toby's gaze, when Josh releases Donna's hand to join her. And gives him a wink.

He laughs at the ridiculousness of it, at how warm it makes him feel. But something in the gesture between him makes him believe that there are better days ahead. For all of them.

He turns back to the table around him and when Donna sits down he finally gives in— “You’re all delusional, black forest is just chocolate and cherry, it tastes the same anywhere.”

—starting another round of protests that leads to laughter and lively conversation that lasts the rest of the day.

[judylicious]

And When He Smiles I Swear I Can’t Breathe

Alan Rubin x fem!Reader

Word count: 1,996

Fandom: Blues Brothers

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Blues Brothers characters or movies. This refers to Alan Rubin as a character in the movie, not the real Alan (although he obvsly played himself but you know what I mean)

I’d like to add that I made everyone of the band a few years younger (so the age gap between the reader and Alan isn’t that big), so he’s approx. in his early 30s.

Sophia & Lisa are two OCs created by two lovely people within the fandom.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of violence, COs having some kind of breakdown

So the next two chapters are gonna be somewhat of a bumpy ride for Charlotte. Just please stay and bear with me until the end of chapter 4, when the magic starts happening. Xx

Chapter III

The next morning Charlotte was having breakfast with her family. “I didn’t hear you coming home last night.” Her dad gave her a harsh look. “Well, yes it got pretty late. I fell asleep during the last movie and the girls felt so sorry for me they didn’t wanna wake me up!” She laughed, trying to lighten up the mood but her father just starred at her emotionless. “I’m sorry, dad. I promise it won’t happen again.”, she added in a apologising tone, which seemed to soothe him. “What films did you watch?”, her sister asked curiously. Charlotte looked at her with big eyes. What the hell? She knew her sister asked that without any ulterior motive, it was just her way but still… “You know, those classic ones. Halloween and some romcom in the end to lift everyone’s spirits.” 

“Was it worth watching?” Oh for crying out loud! Thankfully the phone starting ringing, Charlotte’s mother picked it up. “Hello, Sylvia Ellington speaking.... Hun, it’s for you, it’s Lisa!” The girl quickly jumped to her feet. “May I take it in my room, please?” Her mother looked at her husband and gave her daughter a quick nod. In her room Charlotte took the phone to sit on her bed. “Lisa?” “Hiya!” “How was your evening with Lou? Did you…?” “Naah, we didn’t. But it was lovely seeing him again, I missed him so much. He’s just so shy sometimes. I mean I love that about him, I just wish he’d take the initiative more often.” “I’m sure he will eventually. It was your third date after all. Take it as a compliment that he ain’t rushing things and wants you both to be ready.” “I hope you’re right. Sooo…? You and Alan? I saw you two leave…?” “Yeah, yeah stop it right there. He took me home like a gentleman.” “BORING! Nah, I’m just kidding.” Charlotte sighed. “You know, I like him but I don’t know anything about him. Is he single or seeing anyone? Perhaps he was just trying to be friendly, taking the opportunity for a nice drink. No more, no less.” “Just ask him out on a date, pretty sure his reaction will tell.” “And what if he’s interested in a casual hook-up only? I don’t wanna make a fool out of myself.” “I’m afraid you won’t know if you don’t try.” “Hmm.. But I know someone who DOES know! Lou! I’m sure he knows what’s going on in Alan’s life, you always told me there were close.” “Yeah but.. I don’t know. It would feel strange asking Lou about Alan for you.” Both girls were silent for a moment. “Wait, I’ve got an idea.” Lisa said excitedly. “I’m meeting Lou in his lunch break at the cafe tomorrow noon. You could accidentally bump into us and join us.” Charlotte giggled. “Sounds perfect. I see you then!”

The next day Lisa opened the door to the small Soul Food Café on Maxwell Street and greeted the waitress with a warm smile. “Hi Mrs. Murphy!” “Hello sugar, nice to see you again.” Lisa sticked her head in the kitchen. “Hey Lou!” He looked up from the dishes and his face lighted up the moment he saw his girl. “Give me a minute, babe. Right with you.” Lisa smiled and chose a table at the window. She ordered Lou’s and her favourite dish and watched him as he left the kitchen. He quickly pulled off his hair net and gave her a kiss before sitting down. “Food’s already on it’s way.” He grabbed her hand and caressed it with his thumb. “I’m so happy to be back after our tour. I love performing with the boys but I felt sorry for leaving you so early in our relationship.” He softly brushed a strain out of her face when he got interrupted by someone banging against the window. Charlotte. She quickly walked inside. “Oh my God what are you two doing here?” “Well for starters, I work here.” “Would you like to join us, Charlie?” “Sure, why not, thanks. How are you two doing?” “Good thanks, we were about to have lunch.” The tall, handsome man said. The girls gave each other a look, without saying a word. Lou’s eyes wandered from one girl to the other and back again. “You two are terrible actors, you know that.” And he started to laugh. “Why are you here, Charlotte?” “I’m sorry, Lou. It’s because of Alan. I had a lovely time with him the other night and was wondering, is he dating anyone recently?” “Hard to tell, really. I mean with us touring in the last couple of months, it was difficult for all of us to meet anyone at all. I know that he used to see a woman named Lari. They also met a few times when we where on tour. Think she owns her own business, forcing her to travel quite a lot through the states.” “Are they… dating? I mean is it anything serious?” “I don’t even know if they still see each other.” “So nothing serious?” Charlotte kept pestering him. Lou sighed. “Listen, Alan’s one of my best mates but you should know that he’s quite popular with the ladies. Even I can see how good looking he is. Every concert he had some other woman showing up for him backstage and I can’t remember the last time he was in a serious commitment.” He could see the disappointment and sadness in Charlotte’s face and felt sorry for her. “But you’ll never know. Perhaps when the right one crosses his way.” “I heard you, Lou. but thanks for the effort to cheer me up.” She quickly got up from her seat “Really sorry for spoiling your little date.” And with that she left the cafe, Lisa running after her. “Charlie wait, please!” She finally had caught up with her. “I’m sorry Lou didn’t tell you what you’ve wanted to hear.” “It doesn’t matter okay? I don’t even know why I got my hopes up in the first place, we had a drink, that’s all.” Lisa looked at her friend with compassion in her eyes, grabbing on of Charlotte’s hands. “I guess, Alan’s been the first one who showed any interest in me for quite some time and it felt nice.” She looked down at her hands, fiddling around. “Honey I’m sure someone will come along eventually.” “Right, and as soon as the meet my dad they’ll keep running away.” “Don’t you think it’s time to move out? Sophia got her own place, too.” “I already told you, I can’t. It’s complicated. I don’t expect you to understand.” She freed herself from Lisa hand and started walking down the street. “Charlotte!” But she started to walk faster until she ran, disappearing in the crowd on the streets. Lisa went back inside the cafe and sat next to Lou, who softly put his arm around his girl. “I’m sorry for what I’ve said, I didn’t think she’d take it so hard.” She gave him a quick snog on his cheek, reassuring him that her friend would be okay, though she couldn’t stop thinking about her and how hurt she was.

Charlotte got home around dinner time and found her mother in the kitchen preparing food. “Mum?” She leaned against the worktop, resting on her elbows. “I’m thinking about moving out.” Her mother dropped the knife and looked at her concerned. “This again? Don’t let your father hear about your ideas.” “What ideas?” The two women were startled and turned their back to face Charlotte’s father, who had gotten back from work. “I still wanna get my own place, dad!” “I thought we’ve talked about this way too often, Charlotte.” “But I’m old enough, I could get a job and pay for the rent of a little room myself.” She watched him pouring a glass of whiskey and taking a sip. “Dad?!” He crashed the glass down onto the table. “This still ins’t open for discussion! As long as I’m paying for your education, you stay where I can keep an eye on you!” He said angry. “No one’s asking you to pay.”,  Charlotte mumbled away and was about to leave the room. “What did you just say?” “Nothing!… Right so perhaps I don’t wanna study law.” “Don’t you forget that your mother and I had to go through a lot of trouble to get you that college place, considering your poor grades.” He walked towards her with big steps, shaking his finger at her. “Well, would have been nice if you had asked me before.” “Do you even listen to what you’re saying?! Have we left our manners at the door once more?” He was furious and discounted his glass from the kitchen table in one motion. Charlotte hated seeing him like this and it was one of those moments when she had to decide whether to retreat, displaying her fear of him or stand her ground, and for the first time ever she decided for the letter. When her father got closer, she could feel her knees began to buckle, she was trembling. Suddenly he grabbed her throat, pushing her head up and forcing her to look at him. “Once in your poor, miserable life you got the chance to do something useful with it. And we’re sticking it up your erse. Show some fuckin gratitude. If it wasn’t for you mother you wouldn’t even be standing here!” He yelled at his daughter wrathful and she felt his spit on her face. She knew what he meant by that. She knew that her father didn’t want her, when her mom, his girlfriend at that time, told him she was pregnant with his kid. “And clean up this mess! Your mother doesn’t have to do everything around here.” He added before he left hold of her and stormed out.

As it got dark Charlotte checked on her parents in the living room, both had fallen asleep in their armchairs. She left the house for a walk, which would hopefully get her mind off her toxic parents. She wasn’t living far away form Chicago city, so eventually she bought herself a beer at some street shop and set down on the pavement between two parked cars, hugging her knees. I will be stuck with them until I’ve finished college. If I finish at all. If he doesn’t care for me why doesn’t he let me go. It wasn’t the first time that night when she thought about just leaving, running away from her family.

And then she heard it. His laugh. His warm and soft giggle. She looked up but couldn’t see no one. There it was again. And then she saw him. He was walking on the other side of the road. A lady at his side, one arm tugged into him. She was absolutely gorgeous, tall, long, straight blond hair, wearing heels, a mini skirt underlining her stunning long legs and as it seemed his jacket hang over her shoulders. They both were laughing and smiling at each other. And Charlotte felt a deep, sharp pain in her heart. She was purely crushed seeing him with another woman. And before she knew it they were out of her sight, disappearing behind some cars.

She laid her head on her arms, squinting her bleary eyes. She wasn’t angry with him. But with herself. Disappointed she had left him into her heart so early, without knowing so less of him. And she felt stupid, like a teenager for getting her hopes up only because she liked him, only because he was nice to her. She felt stupid for believing a man like him could be interested in someone like her, when he could be with an actor or a model, literally anyone.  And a single tear ran down her cheek before she started weeping into her arms, trying to wash away the entire day.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

[morganaspendragonss]

Can I request an angst to fluff Tarlos fic with Carlos having Memory loss??

thank you so much for the prompt, my lovely! sorry it took so long! please keep sending me prompts! BTHB masterlist here

@badthingshappenbingo prompt: memory loss

fandom: 911 lone star

ao3

Waking up in the hospital is becoming all too familiar. Being the one in the bed is less so, but Carlos has had his fair share of hospital trips. He knows the drill.

It’s difficult to turn his head, but he manages enough to catch sight of TK in the chair next to his bed, his hand lying limply in Carlos’s own. Carlos twitches his fingers and TK starts, eyes searching out his. 

“Carlos,” he breathes, half-rising from the chair only to immediately slump back down, breaking out in harsh sobs. 

Carlos frowns. “What -” he starts, but his throat is dry and raw and even breathing is a little painful right now. TK clearly notices and hastily wipes his eyes, sending Carlos a wobbly smile.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I just… God, Carlos.” He shakes his head and stands up, kissing Carlos’s knuckles. “I’ll get the doctor. We can talk later.”

*

Later, as it turns out, isn’t for a few more hours, after Carlos has gone through every test imaginable. The doctors don’t say a word about what happened, aside from, “You’re very lucky, sir,” and, “We’re glad to have you back with us, sir.”

TK is similarly quiet, his leg bouncing nervously as they wait for the doctor to pronounce his verdict. Talking is easier now, but Carlos doesn’t want to push his luck so he answers the doctor’s questions and refrains from demanding responses of his own.

When they’re finally alone, night has started closing in. TK perches on the edge of Carlos’s bed, carefully avoiding touching him aside from where their fingers intertwine. TK’s barely let go of his hand since Carlos woke up.

Carlos waits patiently, studying his husband’s face. TK looks terrible, and even if Carlos suspects he himself doesn’t look any better, he can’t help but be concerned. 

Eventually, TK takes a shuddering breath and looks up from the bedsheet, finally meeting Carlos’s eyes. “How much do you remember?” he asks quietly.

“Not much.” Carlos shakes his head. “Nothing.”

TK nods. He takes a long time to speak again, his free hand fidgeting with the sheets. “You were attacked. I only know what your partner and the doctor told me, but it was bad, Carlos. Multiple stab wounds, you hit your head badly, they strangled you… When I got the call -” He breaks off and looks away, brushing away tears before clearing his throat. “When I got the call, they told me I needed to get here because they didn’t know if…”

TK trails off and, this time, he doesn’t try to talk again. He doesn’t need to; Carlos knows full well what that ‘if’ means. 

“Ty…”

“No.” TK says firmly, attempting a smile. “No, it’s okay. You’re okay, the doctors said so, and you’ll be home in a few days. So.”

Carlos doesn’t bother arguing. He simply smiles back at his husband, and hopes that he’s right.

*

It starts small.

He forgets the time, a lot - but that’s normal, right? He’s pretty much confined to the sofa or the bed while he heals, and it’s not like there’s much to do but binge bad daytime tv. It’s only natural that he’d lose track of time.

He’s not great at remembering to take his prescription either, but that’s what TK’s for - or so he jokes. Carlos feels guilty for that, kind of; he’s thankful for TK’s presence and he knows he just wants to look after him, but he hates keeping TK here.

“You can go back to work, you know,” he says on the sixth day. TK pouts at him, folding his arms.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he says firmly. “Not until you’re healed.”

Carlos sighs, exasperated. “TK, I’m healed enough to go to the fridge and back by myself. Anyway, you’re one to talk, Mr Busted-His-Stitches-Two-Days-After-Being-Released-From-Hospital.”

“That was two years ago. And that’s Mr Busted-His-Stitches-Two-Days-After-Being-Released-From-Hospital-Strand-Reyes to you,” TK quips, but it’s clear his heart’s not in it. He sits on the couch (carefully, so as not to jostle Carlos) and meets Carlos’s eyes, twisting his wedding band anxiously. “I’m just worried. I could have lost you, and I hate the thought of me going back to work and then something going wrong.”

Carlos grimaces. “I get that, babe,” he says, lacing their fingers together. “But I’m fine. I’ll be fine, I swear.”

TK sends him a dubious look. Carlos smiles and kisses his cheek.

“I promise I’ll call if I’m ever not fine,” he adds, which seems to mollify TK. They resume their movie, though Carlos can’t exactly remember much of what happened. He doesn’t ask, though; it’s probably nothing, right?

*

So, Carlos might be panicking. 

He doesn’t know where TK is. Which, ordinarily, wouldn’t be too much of an issue, but it’s two in the morning and TK’s not in bed, nor is he in the house. Carlos knows TK must have said something to him earlier, he wouldn’t just leave like that, and he can feel the memory lurking at the edge of his mind but he can’t get to it and he doesn’t know where TK is.

Yeah, Carlos is definitely panicking.

TK picks up on the fourth ring, his voice muffled from sleep, but clearly concerned. “Carlos?”

Carlos collapses on the sofa, still confused, but mostly just thankful to hear TK’s voice. He lets the silence drag on, trying to figure out how to explain why he’s calling in the middle of the night whilst also not worrying TK too much.

Unfortunately, this accomplishes the exact opposite.

“Carlos, talk to me,” TK demands, sounding a lot more awake now. “What’s wrong?”

“I… I woke up and you weren’t there,” he says slowly, keeping his voice as level as possible. “I just… I’m a bit confused.”

TK’s frown is audible. “Carlos, I’m at work.”

“Oh.”

And - oh. Carlos does remember now. Sort of. Well, not exactly, but he recalls TK saying something about heading out and ‘see you soon’ and - Carlos is an idiot.

He flushes. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m coming home.”

“What? TK, no, it’s fine -”

“I’m coming home,” TK repeats, more forcefully this time, cutting Carlos off. “I’ve cleared it with my dad, I’ll be back as fast as I can.” A pause, and when TK speaks again, his voice is painfully soft. “We’ll figure this out, Carlos. I promise.”

Carlos nods, though he knows TK can’t see him. “TK?”

“Yeah?”

“Stay on the line with me?” A part of Carlos feels silly for asking, but the panic from earlier hasn’t truly faded. It’s not just tonight either; he knows that something’s been wrong since the attack, and he can’t help but worry despite himself.

TK’s answer comes without hesitation. “Of course.”

*

“You had a traumatic brain injury,” the doctor explains. “It’s common to experience some degree of memory loss after such an event.”

“Right, but - but it can be cured, can’t it?” TK asks, his left hand squeezing Carlos’s right in a death grip. 

The doctor gives him a sympathetic smile, which does nothing to reassure either of them. “I’d say it can be managed.”

“Managed? What does that mean?” TK glances anxiously over at Carlos. Carlos tries for a smile, but he has a feeling that it comes out more like a grimace.

“From what you’ve told me, I’d say what you’re experiencing, Officer, is more on the milder side,” she says. “There are a couple of treatments we could try, but in your case I wouldn’t recommend them. You’ll have to establish some compensatory strategies - basically, anything that will help to jog your memory.”

Carlos leans forward in his chair. “What sort of things would you suggest?”

“Routine is always a good start.” The doctor shrugs, folding her hands on the desk. “Written reminders, post-its, even the notes on your phone. Different things work for different people. I won’t lie to you, it’ll take some time. But, with any luck, you’ll be able to live your life just as normal soon.”

*

Carlos rolls over in bed, his arm reaching out for TK only to come into contact with a sticky note instead. It’s been like this since they saw the doctor two weeks ago - TK had gone a little crazy and practically bought the store’s entire supply of post-its in a panic. 

There are reminders stuck up all over the apartment, several of them with a copy of TK’s shift schedule written on them, though getting TK to go back to work had been a fight all of its own. The multiple post-its are a concession on Carlos’s part, a condition on TK’s.

Carlos had told him it wasn’t necessary, but he appreciates the effort. And… It helps. More than he can really express. 

Something else TK has taken to is leaving a note in the bed whenever he gets up before Carlos. Even if he’s still in the house which, judging by the clattering of pans and soft cursing coming from the kitchen, Carlos is pretty sure is the case today. He smiles softly and opens his eyes, squinting at the post-it.

Reminder, it reads. I love you.

(ps making breakfast)

Carlos huffs a laugh, shaking his head. After laying there for a few seconds, he heaves himself up and heads towards the kitchen, post-it in hand.

He watches TK in silence for a while before speaking. “Got your note.”

TK jumps at the sound of Carlos’s voice, narrowly avoiding hitting his head on the open cupboard door.

“Careful. We don’t want two of us with memory issues,” Carlos jokes.

TK shoots him a dark look. “Not funny,” he grumbles.

Carlos grins and walks over, wrapping his arms around TK from behind, resting his chin on his shoulder. “Come on,” he says. “It was a little bit funny.”

“It wasn’t,” TK insists, but there’s a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He turns so that they’re facing each other and winds his arms around Carlos’s neck. “What did you think of the note? Too much?”

“Well, I didn’t want to say anything.”

Carlos laughs as TK’s mouth drops open in mock outrage. 

“That’s so rude, Reyes,” he says.

“That’s Reyes-Strand to you,” Carlos corrects, grinning. “And you did ask.”

TK smiles properly then, and Carlos can’t help but to kiss him. “I love you, too,” he murmurs when they break apart. 

They stay like that for a while, until Carlos sniffs the air, raising an eyebrow. “Are we sure I’m the forgetful one?”

TK frowns, then curses, turning to desperately attempt to salvage the burnt remains of breakfast. Carlos just laughs, his heart filling with love for his husband all over again. He’ll rescue TK at some point but for now…

For now, Carlos thinks he’ll just enjoy the moment.

[chockfullofsecrets]

Critical Role: Staying Warm

(Read on Ao3)

Rating: Gen

Summary: (sequel to One Minute) Molly doesn’t think of himself as a very patient person. Less of a thinker and more ‘charge in with prop swords spinning and see what happens’, him. Even so, his current urge to shove Caleb to the floor of their cart and tickle him to pieces seems a little extreme.

It’s a cold night, and Molly’s patience is rewarded.

Word Count: 2375

A/N: I don’t know if anyone actually reads tickle fic for this fandom, but I’m having a great time writing for it so here we go :)

Molly doesn’t think of himself as a very patient person. Less of a thinker and more ‘charge in with prop swords spinning and see what happens’, him. Even so, his current urge to shove Caleb to the floor of their cart and tickle him to pieces seems a little extreme.

Only a little, though - it’s been weeks since that tavern in Zadash, and he would think that he’d misread Caleb entirely but for the way he keeps looking at him and startling a little every time Molly waves back, sometimes forgetting his train of thought entirely. There’s something there that he’s itching to pry into, but his years with the circus have taught him the importance of minding his own business. They’re on the road, and if his interference ends with Caleb going off the rails any more than he already does he’s pretty sure one of his other teammates will smother him in his sleep.

Good luck to them, anyway. He has it on good authority that he’s hard to kill, not to mention that he has a shiny new sword courtesy of Mr. Caleb Widogast himself.

He’s putting the scimitar to good use, spinning it lazily as he paces the outskirts of camp on a night watch. It’s been getting colder, frost lingering in the mornings in a way that he’s never seen before, and the rest of his friends are huddling under every warm thing they own in their tents - everyone except Caleb, his watch partner, who he can barely make out by the dying fire.

The fire flares - they have the silver thread laid around, but Caleb still insists both on sitting his own watches and keeping a light up so he can actually see. More than once, his hypervigilance has ended with the entire group shaken and shouted awake only to find that the impending threat is something harmless and smugly unconcerned at sword-and-spell-point of seven sleepy assholes.

Nott can make all the jokes about midnight snacks that she wants, and Molly honestly doesn’t care as long as their alarm system works when it needs to, but it does lead him to wondering what in the nine hells has their resident wizard so on edge in the first place. Which makes him think about getting Caleb to lose that edge, which makes him think about - nope. No.

Patience is terrible.

He strolls back around to the fire, tail flicking forward to catch the traces of blistering warmth as the fire blows his way; even his tiefling blood demands a bit of thawing eventually. Caleb, he notices disapprovingly, is shivering even with his knees practically brushing the spindly branches they’ve scrounged up as kindling. “Are you cold?”

“I’m fine,” Caleb says quietly. He hasn’t so much as twitched at Molly’s approach, eyes fixed somewhere at the edge of the firelight. Molly squints over, confirms that there’s nothing out there that deserves attention more than him, and snags one of Caleb’s hands to check the temperature.

It’s ice cold. “It’s close enough to the light for me to see colors, dear. You’re practically blue.”

“Jester will be thrilled,” Caleb deadpans. Molly rolls his eyes and sticks his free hand down the back of Caleb’s neck - still cold, which is a little more concerning and continues to prove that his coat is more for storage than any kind of protection. That gets Caleb’s attention, the last syllable of his retort choked out as he briefly relaxes against the warmth of Molly’s hand before jerking away.

“Not if she has to turn you un-blue in the morning, she won’t. I know you’re not so keen on fire, but I imagine cold damage isn’t great either.” Molly straightens up and nudges Caleb’s knee with his boot. “Scoot over, we’ll cuddle until you get warm again.”

“W-was? No!” Caleb barely looks warmer even with a flush high on his cheeks, which only encourages Molly to flop down on crossed legs and reach out an inviting arm.

“Come on. It doesn’t need to be weird, let’s just get your fingers back to a normal color.”

Caleb shuffles his feet and eyes Molly distrustingly, still prominently blushing, but finally he shivers again and sighs and moves a reluctant inch closer. “Fine. But only for a little while - we are supposed to be watching too, ja?”

Molly hooks an arm around his shoulder and tows him in, their crossed legs knocking together. “Mr. Caleb, are you proposing that I might forget my solemn duties to the group? I am hurt, I’m offended - ah, shit, what is it?”

Caleb has gone an entirely new shade of red, dangerously stiff under Molly’s arm. Molly resists the urge to check if his cheeks are actually warming. “Okay, I lied, this is now weird. Care to tell your new heat source what’s going on? Are we too close?” He smirks despite himself. “Not close enough?”

Caleb makes an agonized noise, head bowing. “Sorry, sorry, I don’t know - ah - you are very warm as is, Mr. Mollymauk. Thank you.” He takes a deep breath and lets it out in a drifting cloud that joins with the smoke of the fire. Molly watches him teeter back towards equilibrium and very deliberately does not think about what he could do to upset the balance.

“Hey, I’m warmer too. People are good insulation.” Caleb interrupts his own brooding to shoot him an incredulous look, and Molly decides to change the subject for both of their sakes. “Hey, tell me what you were reading today.”

“In the cart?” Caleb’s voice is light, distracted. “Ah, I was reading about -” Watching his face in profile, Molly has a perfect view of Caleb’s brow furrowing, his mouth working in incomprehension. “Um. A spell,” he finishes lamely.

Molly gapes. “Caleb,” he says slowly, “I have seen you speak in more detail about magic when you are seconds out of being catatonic. If you don’t tell me what’s wrong with you, I’m going to go get Jester.”

He prods Caleb accusingly with a finger, and Caleb squeaks. The sound tweaks something down in his stomach, an urge and a memory he’s been suppressing, and Molly’s eyes narrow. “Wait.”

Caleb shivers, and Molly is fairly certain it has nothing to do with cold. It might, in fact, have everything to do with the grin that’s currently taking over Molly’s face. “Molly, Entschuldigung, I just forgot-”

“You,” Molly continues, smacking his lips on each word like it’s dessert, “are distracted. You get distracted every time I so much as wave at you. You and your perfect memory are forgetting things. And, as my memory is still working more or less the same, I happen to remember a particular instance where you forgot how to tell time-”

He crooks his fingers just so around Caleb’s shoulder, and the resulting flinch almost sends the other man tumbling out of his grasp. “Stop,” Caleb blurts, the red from before flooding back into his face as he pins Molly with a frantic glare. “Fine, I am distracted, it is awful and it is all your fault because when you wave at me you do this thing with your fingers-” He waggles his fingers in brief demonstration, jerky with misplaced adrenaline, and Molly can’t keep himself from laughing delightedly. “Stop that! I am annoyed, Molly, if I cannot even sit next to you and I am not sure how to make it stop-”

“Oh. Oh, gods, please stop, I can’t.” Molly gets out between cackles, tugging a sputtering Caleb back in until he really is cuddling him, his chin resting on ginger hair. Caleb resists initially, flailing to stay upright, but eventually all five-foot-something of his grumpy self is leaned begrudgingly into Molly’s side. “Do you really forget what you’re saying every time you think about me tickling you?”

Caleb is tellingly silent.

“Mr. Caleb, that is adorable.” He heaves a satisfied sigh with the last of his laughter, can feel his tail flapping contentedly somewhere behind him. “I think I might be doing you a favor, then, to put you out of your misery.”

“And how, Mr. Mollymauk, do you intend to do this?” Caleb snipes, a little petulant. Molly visualizes the pout that might go along with it and almost starts laughing again.

“Tickling you more, of course,” Molly declares, tightening his grip as Caleb makes to struggle again. “Hey, hey, it’ll help! I knew it, I knew you liked it - I was hoping you’d decide to do something nice for yourself for once and come ask, but this is fine. Gives me something to look forward to.”

“To look forward - Molly, I will not ask you to - I can’t -”

Caleb’s voice is strained, as if he’s just now realizing that asking is something he might actually want to do and he’s trying to shove the realization back down his own throat, and Molly is so, so tempted to push him, to let his fingers hover over sensitive skin until Caleb can’t do anything but plead with him to just get it over with, but instead he just hums noncommittally. “Alright, calm down, we’ll save that one for another day.”

He waits, rubbing a thumb in small circles on the harsh jut of Caleb’s shoulder until he feels the other man settle slightly. “This is not ideal,” he mutters, self-loathing laced in every word, and Molly’s heart squeezes uncomfortably. He squeezes Caleb back just as tight.

“Oh, woe to you, you need to laugh once in a while. If you don’t give yourself what you need, your body’s going to come calling for it eventually, Caleb.” Caleb makes an affronted noise at that, but Molly just retaliates with a sloppy kiss to the top of his head. “Right, then - how do I want to do this…”

“Now? Wait, scheiße-” And then Caleb stops talking, because having an enormous raspberry blown into the side of your neck is the sort of thing that is very difficult to talk through.

He shouts, soft but startled, and Molly manages to get a couple more raspberries in under the scruff regrowing on his chin as he pinpoints the moment when the feeling stops being shocking and starts getting ticklish - Caleb almost whines, shoulders ratcheting up around his ears. Molly can feel him practically vibrating, each breath hitching in his chest as he tries to prevent it from becoming a laugh. “W-what is thahat-”

“Don’t worry about it. Here, you’ll recognize this one,” Molly teases, rearranging his hug until his fingers can get under Caleb’s coat. He kneads gently at the softness just below protruding ribs, triumphant as Caleb gasps and dissolves into insistent giggles and twists frantically with absolutely nowhere to go. “I know you’re forgetful, dear, but do try and remember to be quiet? It’s the middle of the night, you know.”

“Molly - bitte, bitte, I cahahan’t!” He feels Caleb working an arm out of his hold, but instead of using it to do anything that would actually stop the tickling it sounds to be stuffed against his face. It fills the purpose for now, but Molly makes a mental note to try and break Caleb of the habit of covering up his smile later.

“You can’t remember? Poor thing.” One hand stays at Caleb’s side, drawing out intoxicating bursts of stifled laughter, and the other strays up to the leather of his book holsters, fingers pushing through to the sensitive area underneath. “Ugh, this is hard. One of these days I’ll get you to take these off first, hm?”

Caleb’s too far gone to protest the potential distance from his beloved books, head jerking back as Molly sees an opening and darts in to blow another raspberry on a defenseless stretch of neck. His hand doesn’t move with it, and for a brief instance his unabashed peal of laughter is exposed to the night air. Molly drinks it in, fingers stilling for an instant, then redoubles his efforts to get up under Caleb’s holsters and tickle the tops of his ribs where he knows from previous experience it’ll send Caleb into absolute fits.

For all his implied forgetfulness, Caleb does seem to realize that they’re out in the open and mere feet from the rest of their sleeping group - Molly has more or less stopped caring about that particular nuance, but Caleb registers the encroaching attack on his sanity as fingers digging into his upper ribs and jerks out of Molly’s grip with unprecedented strength, narrowly avoiding the fire as he crashes onto the dirt. It wouldn’t be too difficult to stop him regardless, or chase him down - Molly’s tail twitches at the thought - but those, too, are perhaps best saved for later.

The cold is almost welcome after minutes of tussling, and Molly takes a deep bracing breath before leaning over to assess the damage.

He gets a good look at Caleb’s face, red and flustered and wreathed in a laughter-bright smile, as he clutches his chest and wheezes for breath. “You,” he gasps, “you are a dangerous one, Mr. Mollymauk.”

Molly beams down at him. “Am I?” he asks, more pleased than innocent.

Caleb, sprawled on his back, looks wryly over with blue eyes that seem nearly alight. “Would you have stopped before or after I woke up everyone in the camp?”

He shrugs. “Well, you didn’t ask nicely for your favor. Do that, and maybe you’ll earn yourself some consideration.”

Caleb’s head lolls back to the sky, eyes slipping shut, and he does at least seem like he’s considering it. “You call it a favor, but somehow I do not feel very encouraged to thank you.”

“I could make you,” Molly quips, gratified when Caleb’s eyes snap back to him. “But I won’t. Because we’re on watch.”

“... and what happens when we are not on watch?”

“You’d better hope you learn some manners by then, Mister.” Molly fixes him with an indulgent grin, lets Caleb pick himself up off the ground and shake his head ruefully.

Then, surprisingly, he reaches a hand down to Molly. They don’t quite manage eye contact, but the soft “thank you” reaches Molly’s ears and plants itself somewhere deep in his chest that, blazing warm, is entirely untouched by the weather.