#talon feels like a locked door sometimes.

[skunkes]

"describe your oc and then have them describe themself" is still one of my favorite little drawing/character exercises like this one's pretty blatant vs Showing but it's still so fun in either direction. what you say and how you say it... what you dont say + how much. etc etc

[heartfullofleeches]

Damsel in Duress

Yan Damsel + G.N Reader blurb

-

"My hero~"

Closing shift was a drag. Cooped up behind the counter till dawn - the store watched you more often than not until you were "graced" with the chance of another living soul walking through those doors. Your saving grace from the monotonous life of a gas station cashier was a patron on the rise in frequent appearance.

A cosplayer, you assumed - from their style of dress and the whimsical way they carried themselves in mannerisms and speech. You got a good laugh out of seeing them weave through tiny, narrow aisles in those giant, puffy gowns they dawned. Damsel is what you called them which - by coincidence apparently seemed to be their name. Another reason for the title beyond their attire was they couldn't do a thing on their own. Asking for sliced apples when they were standing in the very same aisle fruits were stocked. Questioning the proper ways to use a fork and if you'd teach them with demonstration. To every task you helped them with they thanked you with the tagged on honorific of "My Hero" at the end. Getting into character was one thing, but sometimes it really did feel like they just popped out of the pages of a fairytale.

It's getting pretty late. You wonder where your entertainment is-

Bang!

Sharpened nails scrap across the glass doors still rattling in their frames. Blood red as the cloak masking their features; you watch as the hand welding the crimson talons yank the door's handle and flings their blood inside. It leans against the frame - barricading the doors as footfalls rebound in the distance. Expressionless- their eyes well with tears as they scan the store finding you where you always were.

"Lock it...."

You remove your headphones. "What?"

Their lips quiver, voice rising with a hick. "He's coming... Lock the door!"

A shadow creeps over the parking lot. Reaching for your keys, you volt over the counter as it runs for the door - crouching beneath Damsel as they apply all their weight against it to keep it shut as the handle shakes violently. You lock the door, keys knocked out of your hand as the figure throws himself against the door, and drag them away from it as you stand. Their face falls against your shoulder - the scent of copper flooding your nose.

"You fucking bitch! I'll kill you!"

Damsel shrieks, assaulting yet another of your senses as it drills through your ears. They latch onto your shirt.... Weren't their nails longer a second ago? They meet your gaze - face washed in fresh tears and bruises. "Help me.... please help me... I was on my way here when that man and his friend offered me a ride. I said no, but - they started to chase me and....and..."

Damsel breaks off in a quiet sob. You squeeze their shoulders reassuring, backing towards the back office eyes trained on the man pounding on the doors "Calm down. My phones in the back and the door to the other entrance only opens from inside. We'll hide there until the police arrive."

The man presses his face against the glass, the skin of his knuckles worn down as he beats the door. "What the hell are you doing? Get out away from that thing! It killed him. Dont belive anything it-"

Damsel tucks at your arm. You tear your attention away from the door and push them towards the office. Dragging them inside the break room you shove the coffee table against the door for good measure and fish out your jacket and phone from your locker. You throw the coat over their shoulders, dialing the police as you hand them some napkins to wipe their face.

"Breathe. We'll be fine in here. I'm calling for help now and they'll make sure nothing happens to you."

Damsel dabs at their eyes - faint smile dipping at your conclusion. "I'm not worried now that you're here... Guess you really are my hero aren't all, aren't you? I've never seen anything like that before, one second he was the kindest person and the next - he was like a rabid wolf."

"It's okay... You're safe now." You drape an arm behind their hood, consoling them as they hiccup and sob against your chest. You chalk the wind exiting your lungs as they latch onto you the ending results of your physical exhaustion, and retain a calm voice as you speak to the operator over the phone. Damsel squirms in their chair as you hang up.

"They're on the way... are you okay?"

Damsel fiddles with the strings of their hood. "I um.... have to go powder my nose."

"What?"

They bite their lip, face hidden in your jacket. "Use the bathroom? I know the only one here is outside so you don't have to come with me... It'd actually make me feel better if you stayed in here."

"Damsel, I cant-"

"I-it's alright, Y/n.... Long as my hero's safety is assured I'll be okay. I'm sure he's gone by now anyway. Do you mind if I keep your jacket?"

"...No... If anything happens - you scream and run, got it?"

"It's what I do best. I hope that someday there's something I can do to rewards your braver... For now...I'll leave you with this" Damsel springs from their seat and kisses your cheek as they pass. They push the table out of the way with surprising ease, looking back at you as they open the door. They smile - locking the door behind them and snapping the key.

Damsel steps out into the station. They walk past the bathroom and inspect the collection of household necessities your store had to offer. Could be better, but they'd made due. It grabs a pocket blade, ripping open the package and leaving it on the counter along with the exact bills and change for their purchase. The man is still there - eyes now wide fear. Damsel grins at him with a small wave.

"Oh!- Hello, glad to see your still here. I was going to let you go - but then you had to go and do a nasty thing and try to turn my hero against me. They're very brave - aren't they? I'm such a lucky traveler. Hmmmm.. so I'm the hood in this story and they're the hunter... What exactly does that make you? Mmm, I think I know...."

"The slaughter."

[azrielslightintheshadows]

Can I make a request? Like what about if Rhys had a Daughter before amarantha and somewhow she took her and made her be just like rapuzel, like she was a baby and used her powers to her own benefit, and he didn’t know that she was still alive… and somehow she ran away from amarantha…

Family.

Inner circle x f!Reader -Rhysand's daughter

Warnings; mentions of abuse, trauma and death.

Masterlist.

So it's not exactly what you asked but I hope you enjoy it! P.s; I just realized I have never seen a movie about Rapunzel and I just know the basics of the story :')

“Ah there she is!” Beron smirked “Come my dear, I want you to punish those traitors”.

You approached him quietly and stared at the two young males on the floor in front of Beron’s throne.

“Come on dear I don’t have all day” he scoffed.

You held the tears back not wanting to be punished and kept your hands behind your back as you focused on the males. Both tensed and cried out as you let your talons pierce their minds and turn them into mist.

“Good” he purred, and you nodded.

“Put her back in her room” He ordered the guards and you let them grip your arms and drag you away.

Your room was cozy, and it offered a perfect view of the forest beneath the house. Even though you were trapped there you were thankful that they treated you with some kindness. You were only a baby from what you heard when Amarantha took you and locked you away. You would be dead if she didn’t want your powers. You grew up in a dark cell feeling tired and abused every time she used a piece of your power. You were always alone, you couldn’t remember your mother or your father but some nights you dreamed of a male, tall and graceful, screaming at the guards who carried you away, his violet eyes and tanned skin were the only proof that he was your father. Sometimes when you stared at the mirror you could see him staring back at you. Even though you couldn’t remember anything else, the thought that he cried out and tried to get to you when they took you away made you feel a bit of love for him.

 When Amarantha was defeated all the magic that kept you in the cell disappeared and your powers came back, you ran away like your life depended on it - it probably did- and you tried to find your father only to smack into Beron’s chest. “What do we have here?” he had smiled.

Beron informed you about your father’s death and took you in, he kept you in a room where his servants brought to you everything you needed. The guards would come and get you when your powers were needed and then you would be locked in the room again. You didn’t mind it, at least it wasn’t a cell, and no one ever tried to take some piece of your power. These people saved you and you owed them so even though you hated killing those innocent faes, you never showed it, you wanted Beron to be proud of you.

A knock on your door pulled you out of your thoughts and you smoothed your dress. Beron’s eldest son -your fiancé walked in. His father had decided to wed you to him, yet you only saw him on special occasions.

“Y/n” he greeted.

“Lord Eris” you smiled politely.

“Follow me” he said and walked out. You quickly obliged with a curious look, he led you into his room and picked a cloak from his closet.

“Listen to me carefully…” he cupped your jaw and lifted your head making you look at his eyes “I’m taking you home, I want you to tell them the truth, that I never touched you and that I saved you multiple times from my father’s abuse”.

“Tell who?” you asked him softly.

“Your father and his guard dogs” he replied, and you took a step back shaking your head.

“My father’s dead” you breathed.

“No he isn’t, Beron lied because he wanted you.” He said and your knees trembled.

“What?” you felt tears streaming down your face.

“Come on before the guards realize you are gone” he said and pulled you closer, lifting the hood of your cloak and hiding your face. He winnowed you into an office and gestured to the chair.

“Don’t take the hood off yet.” He ordered and you nodded, keeping your gaze to the floor.

You heard footsteps and the door opened.

“I hope you have a good reason for disturbing me Eris” a deep voice said and you almost gasped. You had heard this deep and velvety voice again in your dreams.

“I have something that belongs to you” Eris spoke.

“Who’s that?” another voice said.

“Before I show you, I want you to promise to let her speak before pouncing on me.”

“I promise” the male scoffed.

You felt Eris’ hand on your hood, he pushed it back and you lifted your head, your violet eyes met your father’s and his breath hitched.

“Mother’s tits!” a winged male exclaimed.

“Is she…” your father started.

“Yes, Amarantha didn’t kill her, she kept her for her daemati powers. Her name’s y/n” Eris explained.

“Where did you find her?” another male spoke, you noticed some shadows flowing out of him and approaching you curiously.

“Beron found her when she escaped, he told her you were dead and took her in our court.”

“You had my daughter all this time?” he growled and grabbed Eris by the neck.

“Stop” you gasped and raised from your seat. He glanced at you and released your fiancé. “He never hurt me, he was the only one who cared about me… he saved me multiple times from Beron’s tortures.”

“Rhysand….” Eris spoke “I’m not the enemy”.

“Why now Eris? You could bring her here two years ago when Amarantha died” Rhysand snarled, and you flinched.

“I couldn’t, my father wouldn’t let her out of his sight and even if I managed to sneak her out you know I would be punished, he would kill me” Eris shouted.

“What changed now?” The one with the shadows asked.

“I want you to help me kill him and become High Lord”. Your fiancé said.

You ignored the ache in your heart as you realized that you were nothing more than a bargaining chip. “Leave” Rhys told him “We will have a proper meeting tomorrow, you can stay in Hewn city if you don’t want to go back”.

Eris nodded and opened the door. “Should I come with you?” you asked softly.

“No, stay with your father.” He smiled at you.

“But you’re my fiancé” you furrowed your eyebrows and Rhysand growled.

“No I’m not. My father wanted to marry you, I only offered myself to save you” he said and closed the door behind him.

You stared at the three males in front of you and took a step back.

“Its okay sweetheart, no one will hurt you” your father spoke and his eyes watered “Cauldron I thought you were dead”. You could see how much he wanted to touch you, but you couldn’t move, you don’t know him and even though he is your father you fear him.

“I remember you…” your voice was barely above a whisper. His eyes widened and he took a step closer. “I dreamed of you crying out and trying to get to me as guards took me away”.

“I couldn’t save you” he was crying now.

“Uhm, is my mother here?” you asked, and he shook his head.

“They killed her…”

You nodded and stared at him.

“Let’s get you home” he offered you his hand and winnowed away.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

He took you to a city he called Velaris and showed you your room in his house. You couldn’t really believe that you finally found someone of your family, especially a parent.

“I will send someone to buy you some clothes and if you want, we can go into the city tomorrow and you can buy whatever you want.” Rhys smiled.

“Uhm thank you, I just need one or two dresses.” You said softly and he frowned.

“Nonsense you are my daughter!” he exclaimed.

“I don’t want to waste your money…” you confessed.

“Honey you’re not wasting my money, I will buy you the whole world if you want.” You could see that he meant it, from the moment he saw you he has a longing look on his face and you knew that the only reason he kept a distance is to not spook you. Your heart melted at the thought and the need for love became too much so you let your body take the lead and walked up to him.

“Can I hug you?” your voice was barely above a whisper, and you avoided his eyes. Your father gaped at you.

“Of course. Never ask for my permission honey!”

You wrapped your arms around him and pressed your cheek on his chest, you could hear his heart beating faster as he engulfed you and rested his chin on your head.

“I wish I could turn back time and watch you growing up to that beautiful female you now are” he whispered, and you felt a tear landing on your head. You let a soft sigh and pulled him harder against you. Even though you were a baby the last time he held you, his warmth felt familiar, and you could feel all his love pouring out of him into the hug.

“We’re together now, we can make up for the lost time” you told him.

“I will spend the rest of my life giving you all the love you missed.” He promised and you gasped as you felt something burning your skin behind your ear.

“It’s a bargaining tattoo, that’s how we make promises here” he explained, and you teared up. You would spend the rest of your life worshiping this tattoo.

“Would you like to meet the rest of our family?” he asked and pulled back.

“Yeah sure” you nodded, your heart skipping a beat when he said 'our'.

Rhysand stared at you for a few moments and grabbed your hand pulling you outside.

“We can fly to the house of wind” he said, and suddenly huge membranous wings appeared behind him. You giggled at the sight, and he furrowed his eyebrows.

“What?” he asked. “And I wondered where I got those from” you replied and summoned your own wings making him gasp and tear up again.

“You can fly?”

“No… didn’t have much room in my cell” he cursed under his breath.

“I can teach you” his eyes flashed with hope.

“I would like that.” You smiled.

He picked you up and you flew to the house of wind, the moment you walked inside you felt several pairs of eyes on you.

“Cauldron she looks just like him” a blonde female gasped and got up. “Hi I’m your father’s cousin -well your aunt Mor” she hugged you.

“Mor!” Rhys growled and you shook your head.

“It’s okay… I haven’t been held for a very long time.” You told him with a sad smile.

“Well this is the job for me! I’m Cassian your dad’s best brother, not from the same parents though” the huge male said before picking you up and spinning you around.

“Hi” you giggled “I’m y/n your brother’s daughter” he chuckled at that.

“This is Azriel my other brother” Rhys pointed at the male with the shadows. He scanned your form and approached you.

“It’s nice to meet you” he smiled and pulled you for a hug making everyone’s jaw drop. You weren’t surprised though, the way he hugged you showed that he understood the need for affection you had, and you wondered if he had ever experienced something similar.

“This is my mate Feyre” Rhysand said after Azriel let go of you. The beautiful female smiled at you kindly.

“Hello, I’m glad you’re finally home” she said softly and stepped closer. “Can I?”

“Yes” you smiled, and she hugged you. “You are the one who defeated Amarantha” you noted, and she nodded.

“Thank you” you breathed and hugged her harder.

After meeting her sisters and Amren you all sat around the table for dinner, everyone seemed so excited that you were there and soon the whole house buzzed with laughter and curses as Cassian shared stories of your father when he was younger. At some point you wanted to take the bottle of wine that was next to Rhysand, you stared at him for a few moments not sure how to address him. You yearned for a family and now you had one, and with that thought and a deep breath you said.

“Dad can you pass me the wine?”

[aokoaoi]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫.

֎ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 : 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖺 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝖺 𝗌𝗎𝖽𝖽𝖾𝗇 𝖺 𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗂𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗉𝗈𝗌𝖺𝗅 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗅𝖾𝖽𝗀𝖾. || ᵖᵃʳᵗ ᵗʷᵒ

֍ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : 𝗌𝗁𝗎𝗋𝗂 𝗑 𝖿𝖾𝗆!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋.

֍ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : sorta late<\3 was busy today and chapter is rushed but I wanted to update:)

It had been the day after you and your mother's quarrel. Your father was absolutely worried about you when you stormed off and wanted to check up on you, but your mother just told him to let you be.

Your mother, Adaeze, knew you can't stay locked up in your room forever. She knows about your friend from Wakanda, Shuri, visiting you today and you'd have to meet her when she arrives.

Your parents almost got into a fight or argument regarding your feelings after you stormed off. Your father, Aasir, wanted to talk to your mother about how they should just cancel this marriage thing if you disliked the idea so much. But of course, your mother didn't agree to his idea.

'But my Queen, our little one is already so furious just about the mere mention of how we set her up in a contract, there is a chance this marriage won't work out in the future.'

'Trust me on this, darling. sweet (name) will learn to accept the prince once they get to know eachother.'

'You know how our child is, my Queen. She's never liked the idea of having a significant other.'

'You're right. But her motives are pinpointed on what's best for Zinandra. And with what's best for Zinandra is to have a powerful leader. two powerful leaders.'

'Our child is raised to be the perfect leader she was meant to be, Adaeze. Ever since she could walk, she started training and learning all kinds of things. Her knowledge is advanced, she can rule our nation on her own long enough so she can find someone right for her.'

Your father had always been the one to understand other peoples feelings best. It's why you always come to him to tell him something before you go to your mother about it.

Your mother however, always wanted everything her way.

But enough of that. All morning you had been stuck in your room, refusing to even step a single toe outside of your door. A few of your ladies-in-waiting had already visited your room a couple of times to get you ready but they were always met by silence.

Your ladies-in-waiting knew you enough to know you were in a sour mood to even open your door up. Despite these actions being 'inappropriate and ungraceful', the ladies understood your feelings. After all, even royalty show normal human emotions.

You got a message from Wakanda's princess a while ago, making you vividly remember that you'd have to get out of your room sometime now. You haven't told Shuri about thr marriage contract, and you can't even imagine what her reactions would be.

Would she be upset you were upset? Furious like how you were last night? Sympathetic?

She had said to you that she'd be arriving soon, and so you got ready on your own. Sometimes ladies-in-waiting would help you get ready on special occasions, it baffled you because you were completely capable of doing that yourself.

Eventually when you were done making yourself look presentable, you sneaked out if you room, making 'shush' motions at the guards that passes by. They only waved their hand in confusion, followed by a good morning and a bow.

You met Shuri to where all aircrafts normally land in. You knew that both your parents would've been alerted of Shuri's presence as soon as the Talon fighter flew right onto the borders of Zinandra.

She was just exiting the aircraft before you tackled her into a hug, catching the girl off guard. The Queen let's out a small laugh at the feeling of your warmth on her, patting your back affectionately in the process.

"I'm so happy to see you." You muttered against her collarbone. Shuri hums delightedly, looking down at you. "As do I. But I feel like there's more you have to say to me than you already have."

You pulled away from the embrace at the Queen's words. "I do, actually. It'd horrible, Shuri, I don't know what to do." She hears you hurriedly state. Your desperate and agitated tone worried her. What had happened to cause you in such distress?

"Alright, (name), don't worry. We'll talk about this in your room, mm-hm? This'll seem too personal for anyone else to hear." Shuri reassures you, rubbing your arm in a soothing way.

You were just about to respond to her, agreeing, when all of a sudden you heard footsteps approaching. "Talk about what, dearies?" You heard your mother loudly question, forcing herself into the conversation.

Your worry faltered, and instead, it replaced with fierce intensity. Shuri noticed your fast shit of demeanor, and so did the Queen of Zinandra.

Shuri decides to speak up for you, trying to be subtle as she lead you slowly behind her. "(name) was just about to share some news with me. It seemed urgent, and I didn't want anyone else to hear so.." the Wakandan trails off, her eyes shifting between you and the Zinandra leader, feeling the tension.

The Zinandra Queen let's out a breathy, hearty, and almost a fake laugh, waving her hand off dismissively. "No need for that, Shuri. I have some very important news myself! I was just about to announce it to the whole nation right after.. he arrives!" Your mother hums a plastic laugh.

Shuri looks behind her, looking down at you in confusion. He? Why is there a he? Why was the news so important that the Queen had to tell it to the nation?

"Uhm.. 'he'..?" Shuri questioned your mother. Adaeze's face lights up in faux realization, looking between you and the Wakandan Queen with a smug look. "Oh, my child didn't tell you..?," your mother responds with her own question.

But before Shuri could answer herself, your mother cuts her off. "Well no matter. I guess you have to wait to figure it out just like the rest of te nation!"

"Mother, stop that." You gritted out, glaring at your own mother furiously. Why was she acting this way? It was like she was taunting Shuri with the truth.

Your mother only gives you a look of disapproval, huffing before turning in her heel and walking away.

"The prince will be arriving shortly, child. Go and make yourself look more presentable." Your mother says, loud enough for you and Shuri to hear as she walked away.

You refused to look at Shuri when she turned her head at you upon heating your mother's words. You feared about what look she was giving you. To be honest, you didn't know why you were so frightened about Shuri finding out all of a sudden when you were gonna tell her about it as well.

Maybe it was because of your mother's way of putting it up.

"Prince?. (name), who is this prince?" Shuri questioned, standing right infront of you. You tried to look away, but the look on her face made you feel guilty.

"I'm in a marriage contract, Shuri. I don't even know who the hell this prince is. I only learned about it a few hours ago." You state. Shuri nods, understandingly.

She didn't know why apart of her felt disappointed and crushed. Perhaps because you were set up in a contract without your permission nor knowledge. But even so, she felt bad for you.

"Oh.."

Her dry words left you to let out a rough and tired sigh, shaking your head slightly. "I don't want to get married yet. I'm not ready. I don't want to be bound to someone i know nothing about. I want nothing to do with them." You rambled on and on, your breathing beginning to be ragged.

Shuri was barely listening, lost in her own thoughts.

She was gonna lose you to someone else now. Someone who you don't know as well. Someone you don't want anything to do with. Considering how you're reacting now, she was certain this marriage won't work out for you in the future.

You're still young after all. Why couldn't your mother just give you more time to look for someone you'll truly love instead of ruining your future by bounding you with someone you don't love?

She knew your mother had always been the 'I want everything my way' typa girl, but this just reaches the limit.

"Who is the prince?" Shuri questioned you, stopping midway when you were expressing your absolutely hate for the marriage contract.

You looked confused as well, and wary. "I don't know as well.. I kinda just stormed out if the hall before learning more about this 'proposal' thing.." You trailed off, looking at her in confusion. "Why'd you wanna know?"

"..nothing."

cancel mama adaeze/jj . part one. part three. part four. part five.

|| tagging : @ilacknames @sokkasbae225 @puppykitt @ziayamikaelson @katefullerrr @retirement-home @jelliesstuff @honey-teaaaaaaaa @imshurisbabymama @adharaoaklyn @melodykisses @skimm0nzz

[codenamehazard]

.:The Dam Breaks:.

Chapter 27: The Dam Breaks

[TRIGGER WARNING: SEVERE MENTAL BREAKDOWN, SMALL MENTION OF CORPERAL PUNISHMENT, ANXIETY, MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES, MENTION OF ABILISM, SHITTY PARENT BEING SHITTY, MENTIONS OF BUGS AND SPIDERS.]

Hey guys! Hoooooo man, this is a chapter I've been chomping at the bit to share with you guys ever since I finished it! I hope you guys like this as much I liked writing it! Big shoutout to @rogueshadeaux for helping me with research, brainstorming and being the creator of Jean and Brent Rowland!

Without further ado, let's jump in!

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

Warmth runs down my throat as I take a sip of warm water. How long has it been since the chaos that was Pangolin’s transfer into the Poison Ward of this hospital went down? Around 12 hours? With how on edge everybody was, it was hard to tell and it didn’t calm down either.

Sometime earlier, The metal man had walked out into the waiting room to get Mako with a worrying urgency. She got up with no questions asked, but this prompted Dove to jump up and try to blitz through the doors. It took both Kestrel and I to hold the thrashing pigeon back. I actually had to zap him hard enough to knock him out just so that Mako could get through unimpeded.

A squabble followed when Dove came to, the dodo and the bird of prey locked verbal talons as they screamed at each-other. It wasn’t until Kestrel gave a sharp-tongued snap at Dove that he backed down and conceded the argument. Now he was just sitting in the corner, sulking like a child.

I don’t blame the kid, really. If that was my brother, I would be ready to become a one-man demolition team. Though I understand that right now, the best way we can help Pangolin is to stay out of the docs’ way until we’re called upon.

I paid little mind to the plague doctor knock-off as something else has my attention. Kestrel…

Ever since Pangolin was admitted, she hasn’t been acting right. Granted, she’s always been an odd bird, eccentric, but this? This isn’t normal even for her. Pacing back and forth like a trapped zoo animal, fussing with that evil eye bracelet I remember seeing from when we talked in Droptown, sometimes she would flap her hands when she thinks nobody’s looking. She’s silent as a church mouse, something that she just isn’t.

The thing that really had my attention were her steel-blue eyes. Wide and wild, darting from the bay doors to a door painted a cool blue with a moon on it. Back and forth, back and forth, incessantly. Something’s not right in her head and it isn’t just from the fear for her fellow Misfit.

Watching Kestrel pace about with her wild eyes, it made me feel something I haven’t felt in a long ass time. An emotion I didn’t expect to feel. A weight in my stomach, an ache. The sight twists my guts into a knot that claws at me. Worry. I scoff at the sensation and brush it off.

Why should I worry about the girl? She’s a grown woman, she can take care of herself. Besides, it’s a waste of emotional energy. There’s no point in worrying about someone who hates me and who I hate in kind.

Despite my reasoning, the knot remains, so I just ignore it. There’s probably another reason why it’s there.

I turn my head as I hear the door open, seeing Mako and the tin-man… Coyote, was it? I don’t know, so many new names. They were quietly talking among themselves before turning to face us. Kes takes a deep breath and shakes her head, trying to calm herself and hide her… Whatever’s going on in her head, before asking the two about Pangolin’s status.

God, she’s not even sounding right. Her voice is too quiet, despite trying to speak with confidence, her tone’s also…. Restricted, I guess? There’s the kind of cracking that happens when you’re trying to hold something back. Mako and Coyote look at each-other before nodding, Mako stepping up towards us.

“Pangolin’s status has been stabilized, but he’s not out of the weeds yet. That sting from the blink scorpion went into his bones and was wreaking havoc on the marrow. I had to help Crow infuse the anti-corrodium serum directly into his bones without throwing up.” She says with a shudder as Coyote rubs his hand, must have had her hold it during everything. Mako was never a fan of patterned holes. “Thankfully the infusion is working and he’s stable enough to have another visi-”

Before Mako could finish her sentence, Dove leaps up from his seat and practically disappears as he turns into a gust of wind. The only thing that tells me where he is was the movement of objects as he rushes through to be with his brother.

Kes sighs in relief, or rather tries to. Whatever demon she’s fighting in her head is crossing some wires in that brain of hers. The sight is strange, the only thing I could really describe it as is like she’s forgetting how to be a normal person right before my eyes. The wild eyes now damn near flying around in their sockets and her smile becoming more forced by the second.

Coyote and Mako look at each-other worriedly before the shark gives the metal-man a nod. Coyote nods back before heading over and whispering something into Kes’ ear, I try to listen in, but it’s too faint. Whatever he said prompted the girl to make a beeline to that weird moon-door with Coyote hot on her heels.

The man gets in front of Kes and opens the door for her before she shoulder-checks it down and closes it quietly behind her. What happens next…. Makes me nauseous.

Screaming, warped and metallic. Just like back at her shop when Pangolin pushed her too far. Hearing it the first time made me sick and angry but this time it makes my blood run cold and the knot in my stomach grow tighter, the sound of twisting metal inside the room didn’t help either. Without thinking, I push myself off the wall and walk over to the door. Coyote looks at me worried and about ready to go into a defensive stance when I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn my head to glare at the offending party. Mako.

“You better have a damn good reason for why I shouldn’t fry you for touching me.” I can hear Shiny getting ready to say something, but Mako holds her hand up.

“Cole, slow your roll for a second. I can explain what’s going on…. Somewhat.” She hums and I try to relax. Eyes glowing intensely as I watch her.

“Kestrel’s having a meltdown.” Mako says with a sigh and I scoff.

“Yeah, I can see that but that doesn’t explain anything.” I snip as I cross my arms, Mako facepalms.

“I was getting to that, Cole.” Mako growls in aggravation. “She’s on the Spectrum.”

“... The internet company?”

“NO!!” The shark bellows out before thumping her hand on her forehead. “The Autism Spectrum. She’s high functioning!”

Autism? That’s a word I haven’t heard in a long time. Last time I heard that word was back when I was in high-school. A classmate of mine fell to pieces in band class after the asshole behind him wouldn’t stop screeching on that damn violin he had. Surprised I didn’t have tinnitus from that asshat alone. The last horrendous squeak had me turning around to deck the fucker when the poor kid just lost it. Threw himself on the ground, covered his ears, started to rock himself to pieces and yelled at the top of his lungs to “shut up” repeatedly. The teacher’s assistant had to help the guy out while the teacher dragged Screechie McFuckface out of the class to give him a verbal lashing.

I remembered asking the assistant what was going on and she told me it had something to do with Autism and then shooed me away so she could focus on getting the kid calmed down… Then I asked my dad about it. 

“That’s what damn brats like you become when parents are too soft on them. 16 years old and throwing fucking tantrums like toddlers. Damn kid should have gotten the belt, not a coddle.”

Needless to say that was the last time I talked to Dad about that kid.

With that word associated with Kestrel, things started to make sense.. Things I thought were normal girl things started to line up with things the rocking kid did and even the things that weren’t normal made some sense. How she would get irritated when things she had placed just so would get moved or just people moving her stuff in general. How she avoided certain textures. How she would sometimes stop and stare at the ceiling or at corners at odd times. Even how she couldn’t quite look me in the eyes, always looking at the large scar on the left side of my face. It all made sense.

And now, her screaming also made sense.

“Everything that happened?” Mako continues. “The monsters, the bugs, the big ass spider, Pangolin getting tagged badly, all of that on top of shouldering the physical and emotional burden that comes with taking the lead? It was like a landslide falling into a reservoir. Yeah, the dam can hold it all back for a little bit, but it starts to crack and leak until-”

“-It fails and breaks.” I finish as my brain processes everything, dots connecting in ways I didn’t know were there.

“Mhm.” Mako hums as she nods. “She did well to last as long as she did, but that constant burden of having to always put on a brave face and look like she’s in control is one of the reasons why she wants nothing to do with leadership at all. It would wreak havoc on her mental-state, that’s what she says anyways.”

Mako continues to explain, but at this point my mind begins to focus on something that’s only growing more and more insistent. The knot in the pit of my stomach that I’ve been trying to ignore. The gnawing of worry. It’s damn-near suffocating, but why?!? I don’t worry about people like this unless I care about them, but why am I caring about the bird?! Why do I care? Why am I giving a rat’s left testicle about the freak-out of someone who hates my guts, Autism or not?? Kestrel doesn’t like me, I don’t like her. We both hate each-other, so why should I give a shit?!

The clicking of the door draws my attention as I see Coyote peek into the room, it’s at that point I notice that the screaming has quieted. He walks inside and stays in there for a little before peeking his head out of the door. Signaling for Mako to come over. She nods and ushers me to follow. I walk over to the door to peek in and…

Oh… Fuck…

Kestrel Morrison, the Fiery Gunsmith… She’s just… Sitting in the middle of the floor, anything metal around her twisted and warped from her powers going haywire. A black, fuzzy-looking blanket wrapped around her form as listless eyes gaze out at a wall. Her appearance looked almost sickly with the blanket around her body. Flushed face, cheeks streaked with drying tears that stained the fluff and her expression blank, almost hollow.

The only other time I’ve seen her look that lifeless was after the Mine Incident and it pulled at my heart just as strong.

I turn my head to see Coyote walking over to a shelf and grabbing two large totes full of colorful items. The sound they make when the totes are gently placed near the silent bird told me what they are, the tell-tale rattle of Legos. The metal man quietly opens the totes to show that yep, they were Legos, one’s full of the tried and true bricks, the other was full of more mechanical looking pieces. Bionicles.

The sight of the toys caused the girl to stir, a small turn of her head, a twitch of her lips upwards and the light in her eyes brightening.

Coyote sits down next to Kestrel and begins to build, the bird following suit with her Bionicles, no words spoken, only small looks and the sound of clicking and clacking as they begin to build. With the bricks Coyote builds a small city, showing his skill in architecture. The Gunsmith takes the robotic parts and snaps them together, creating monsters to re-enact favorite kaiju movies in among the growing buildings.

Seeing Kestrel playing quietly with her mechanical creations soothed the knot that ate at my stomach, but a new feeling takes its place. A feeling that makes my blood start to boil, I resist the urge to frown. What the hell? Where did this come from?! The worry is gone, the screaming has stopped! This is the most wholesome sight I have seen in a long-ass time! Kestrel’s fine and she’s just playing Legos with Coyote! I’ve lost track of how many years have gone by since I’ve seen anything remotely this sweet!

Why in the name of GOD is this pissing me off?!?

[thisisalwaysmorethanoneknows]

Sometimes Things Don't go as Expected

Chapter 3

Word Count: 1,253

Summary: In Queen Acacia's fight to gain more resources, Poseidra is nearly killed, having been an unexperienced soldier. She only survives this battle thanks to the help of a dragon that calls herself Karasu. Unfortunately for Poseidra, Karasu ends up asking for increasingly immoral favors as a method of repaying her generosity. Will Poseidra escape with her soul, or will she just become another Karasu?

Warnings: blood

< Prev

________________________________________

Poseidra sighed as she relaxed in the odd looking room Karaus had lent her. Apparently she still had to help Karasu quite a bit more, and Karasu didn't want her to back out. She had been given free range of the castle with the exception of one area (Karasu had told her that if she went there, she'd learn what happened there, first-hand). She had spoken to Raven a bit before they were escorted away for something, although they couldn't say what.

She sighed, she had been instructed to stay in the room for the time being, apparently Karasu had another task for her and didn't want to search the castle for her.

She froze when she heard her door open and looked over, Karasu had walked into the room, not announcing her entrance (like usual), and smelling like… blood? Why did she smell like blood? Poseidra wanted to ask but thought better of it.

"Hey Karasu, here to send me on another life threatening scavenger hunt?" Poseidra asked.

"No, not this time, I have to test how much I can trust you," Karasu said, her eye lights getting a bit brighter, "I need you to kill a few dragons for me, oh, and bring back their heads as proof. If you can’t do this task then you’ll be too weak for the next task."

"U-uh, ok," she was surprised at how quickly the morality of what she was being asked to do dropped, theft wasn’t too bad, but murder was plain wrong, but she didn’t know if she should speak up, after all, this is the dragon who saved her life, right? Maybe these dragons are thieves and killers like she’ll be at the end of this errand run.

"Good, you remember what I told you last time too, right?" she gave Poseidra a moment to nod her head in agreement before continuing, "good, just follow my rules and kill those dragons, alright, now, Gensui! Escort the outsider out of the kingdom, pronto!"

·

·

·

She looked down in horror at the blood on her talons, she had never killed a dragon outside of a big fight, and even then, those dragons had been wounded or dying. She had never attacked and killed a healthy dragon unprovoked, it made her feel like the lowest scum of the world. She was supposed to do this nine more times, and to make it worse, certain dragons had certain instructions on how to kill them, some of them were to make the death as slow and painful as she could.

She couldn’t believe she was a murderer, or that she was going to have to rack up a body count, just to be trusted by Karasu. Was her life really worth less than ten dragons? Maybe… Maybe she did something to make Karasu angry or to lose her trust. How else would she be THAT untrustworthy? She sighed, might as well carry out the task; if she really did something to lose Karasu’s trust, then she wouldn’t lose it again, she wouldn’t mess up.

·

·

·

She sat on a log, looking up at the dark sky, she’d finally killed everyone on the list, and removed their heads, she wanted to leave her body. She wanted to be locked up until she died. She just wanted to be done with this pain, she couldn’t take it.

“First time killing dragons?” she heard, causing her to jump, she looked over to see an unfamiliar BásClaw, “heh, it’s always hard at first, it gets easier the more you do it. Either that or you're just weak.”

“Why are you here?” Poseidra asked, “and what do you mean by that?”

“Not important,” the BásClaw waved the question off, “Queen Karasu figured you’d be done with you task and told me to get you.”

She knew that was bullshit, Raven told her that whoever took her out of the kingdom would stay with her. She couldn’t say though, she wouldn’t betray Raven.

“Alright,” she said, “well what are we waiting for? Take me to the kingdom.”

“Good to see you catching on.”

·

·

·

“Poseidra?” said a familiar voice, it sounded like Raven, “are you alright?”

“I- Yes? No? I’m not even sure!” Poseidra said, slightly upset, “I don’t know how to feel right now. Karasu just had me kill ten dragons! Some in very bad ways.”

“I swear I’m going to- nevermind that, I would have helped you, but… Karasu had me do something today,” Raven said, “don’t feel bad (or maybe do I’m not sure), you aren’t used to killing, you shouldn’t have been forced to kill anyone, Karasu is the one who should feel terrible.”

“I just hope Karasu’s next task isn’t as mentally damaging,” Poseidra tried to joke, before laughing at herself, “heh, I guess my ability to joke was damaged too.”

“It shouldn’t be,” Raven said, “I… overheard Karasu, she just wanted you to befriend a group of dragons, and get to know them. That can’t be that bad, right?”

“Good to hear,” she sighed, “I still feel like scum, like I belong in the bottom of a pond.”

“At least you still have morals,” Raven pointed out, “that means you're better than anyone from this kingdom.”

“Heh, at least I have you, otherwise I don’t know where I’d be,” Poseidra said, “but with my luck, probably somewhere terrible.”

“I guess,” she froze when she heard talon steps coming towards her room, she would never get used to hearing talon prints being a good thing, “I’m going to guess that's Karasu with my task and she mentioned a ‘reward.’”

“Then I should hide,” Poseidra raised an eyebrow at this, “Karasu doesn’t want the rest of her tribe to interact with dragons not from the kingdom. That includes me. The most I can do with you, is carry out Karasu’s orders, anyways, I’m going to hide over here, don’t blow my cover!”

“Uhh, ok?” she said, watching the other dragon hide. She couldn’t believe that Raven would risk getting in trouble for her, a thief, a murderer.

“Outsider-” Karasu started.

“Poseidra,” Poseidra corrected.

“What?” Karasu hissed?

“That’s my name, I’m Poseidra,” She replied, “you keep calling me ‘outsider’, so you clearly don’t know my name.”

“Please watch your tongue, Poseidra,” Karasu said, “now I have your task ready, and your reward.”

She watched as she was given what looked like a strap for a dagger, Karasu pulled on the hilt, and out came a jagged, curved, black sword, with thorns wrapped around the hilt, just casually out of quite literally nowhere. She quickly put the weapon back and the hilt over her shoulder, thanking Karasu.

“Alright, now, for your task. I was planning on waiting, but now seems like a good time,” Karasu said, “I need you to befriend a group of dragons, consisting of two hybrid dragons, one soulless dragon, and one… interesting SandWing. I need you to simply befriend and help them. Just do not mention me, this is very crucial, as it could complicate things.”

“Um, ok?” Poseidra was slightly confused, all of Karasu’s previous tasks were dangerous, or illegal, this was… out of character to say the least, it was good, but for Karasu, it was odd.

“Alright, now go grab a guard,” Karasu said, before handing Poseidra a map, “tell him to take you out of the kingdom, then go to the marked area on the map. Now, I have some important things I need to do.”

_______________________

Next >

[ikeromantic]

Entwined Ch 2

Part 2 of a multipart series. Mai has been reborn in the modern age after a full life in the Sengoku. The warlords as spirit animals find her again after 500 years of searching for her soul.

Part 1

Mai tried to put some space between herself and Mitsuhide over the next few days. She had enough project information that there was no professional excuse to see him, and the fact that she missed seeing him was proof she was making the right choice. 

There was a hard line in her mind between client and boyfriend material. Besides, it made a ready excuse when fending off interest from men like Keiki, the theater director. Once you made an exception, it was that much harder to justify saying no to everyone else. Especially in the theater circuit. Everyone knew everyone and they gossiped like chickens. 

This, at least, was what Mai told herself. Luckily, the costume work took her mind off Mitsuhide’s sad and beautiful eyes, and mostly kept her thoughts away from the feel of his touch. She drafted out the first act’s worth of designs and sent over her order for fabric. She was just closing her laptop when a hawk landed on her open windowsill.

The bird’s sudden appearance startled her. Mai yelped and held the laptop out like a shield. When the hawk didn’t do anything but watch her with its knowing red eyes, she lowered the laptop slowly. She wasn’t sure exactly what kind of bird it was, only that it was a predator. No songbird had claws like that or a beak so sharp. “What are you doing here, big guy?”

The hawk leapt down onto her floor, its head moving this way and that. From this distance, Mai could make out the gloss and color of individual feathers and the noble air of this prince of the air. It made a few hopping steps toward her, so Mai backed away slowly. 

She wasn’t sure what to do with the bird. It was too big to just shoo it back out the window. Besides, it didn’t look like it would react well to being chased away. Maybe it was hungry, she thought. 

Mai didn’t keep much food at the office. Sometimes she would have snacks available for clients but not today. There was a candy dish at the front desk. That probably wasn’t something a bird would eat but maybe if she put a few down on the floor, it could peck at them and then realize there wasn’t any food here. Then, she reasoned, it would go on its way.

“Ok, ok. Look, this is all I have.” She showed the bird the brightly colored wrapper, then undid it and tossed the sugar candy to the floor. 

The hawk pecked at it and then picked up the whole thing and swallowed it without chewing. Then it looked at her and made a demanding, shrill cry. 

She quickly unwrapped another candy and tossed it toward the bird. This time, the hawk caught it with his beak and gobbled it down. “I really hope this is ok for you to eat,” Mai told him. “I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to be out there eating mice and things.” 

Another shrill call told her the hawk did not agree. 

“I’ll give you one more,” she told the bird, trying to sound stern. “Then you have to leave. Got it?”

The hawk’s imperious stare told her she wasn’t going to get to order him around. He ate the candy she tossed over and then proceeded to flutter up to her workspace, beak poking around her design prints and fabric samples.

“Hey! Be careful there. I won’t be happy with you if you go messing up my stuff.” She made a shooing gesture but the bird ignored her, intent on looking through her belongings. It was odd, but she felt like the hawk really was being careful. Though it could have torn through the paper and fabric with its sharp talons, it did not. And while it did pick up and shift things with its beak, the papers were only a little wrinkled from the contact.

Finally, it seemed the bird had enough. It hopped back over to the windowsill and took off. Mai watched it float on the high air currents until it was just a dot in the blue of the sky.

She took that as her cue to close up for the day. As she was locking the door to her shop, she heard a familiar voice.

“You haven’t been climbing on any shelves lately, I hope?”

Mai turned with a smile and a slight flush to her cheeks. Trust that she’d meet a hot guy and he would only remember her for being reckless. “Hideyoshi! Nice to see you again.”

He chuckled. “I’m surprised you remember my name. Glad to though.” Hideyoshi glanced up at her shop. “Is this where you work?”

“Yes. I was just closing for the day, but if you need something-”

“No, no. I just happened to see you on my way out and came over to say hello.” He pointed to a tall apartment building two blocks away. “I live over there. I’m surprised I didn’t run into you before today.”

Mai nodded. “Well, I’m out a lot. My clients sometimes prefer to meet at their location, then there’s purchasing and deliveries. So I’m . . . not surprised?” She realized how awkward she sounded an immediately wished she could take the words back.

Thankfully, Hideyoshi just chuckled. “So I got lucky today.” He narrowed his eyes. “I hope I’m not delaying you. If you’re going to a meeting or something.”

“Oh! No, no. Just heading out for a bite to eat and then home for the day.” Ahhh! No, she thought, now I sound really boring!

“Hmm. In that case, would it be alright if I joined you? If not, that’s fine too.”

Mai considered. She didn’t really know Hideyoshi but he seemed like a nice guy. There was something about him that made her want to trust him. “Ok, but on one condition.”

“Sure,” he smiled. It was a warm smile that lit up his eyes. “Name it.”

“You can’t hold it against me if I say something silly. Or awkward. Because I probably will.” 

Hideyoshi chuckled again. “I think I can handle that. So, what do you like to eat?”

She absolutely was not going to admit her plan had been soda and instant noodles. “I didn’t think about it yet. Did you have something in mind?”

“Well, there’s a great food stall this way.” He pointed in the direction he’d been heading. “Nothing fancy but everything tastes good.”

“Ok, I’m in.” 

As they walked, she noticed he shortened his steps for her. His eyes kept turning to her too, as if checking that she was still there, still walking beside him. And there was something so familiar about that look. 

“Hey, so awkward comment incoming. This is going to sound weird but, do I know you from somewhere?”

“We met at the grocery, but I’m guessing you mean something before that?” Hideyoshi shrugged. “Where do you think you met me?”

Mai thought about it. “I don’t know. I guess you just have one of those faces. Or maybe you remind me of someone.”

He smiled down at her. “I’m glad you feel comfortable around me. I’d like us to be friends.”

“Me too.” Mai returned his smile with one of her own. “So tell me about yourself.”

It turned out that Hideyoshi worked at a private school as a vice-principal. He sounded like he loved his job and really respected his boss too. They laughed over his stories while they ate and drank. 

“You sound like you really love your students.”

Hideyoshi nodded. “I want them to become good men and great women. Every single one of them. They have so much potential.” He flushed slightly and looked away. “I guess that sounds cliche, huh?”

“No! I think it’s sweet. They are lucky you’re there. I barely remember my elementary vice principal but I’m sure he wasn’t as kind as you.” Mai glanced down at her phone out of habit. She hadn’t realized how late it was. 

Hideyoshi caught the gesture and checked his own. “Oh! Mai I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to take up your whole evening.”

“No, no it’s fine. I really enjoyed talking to you. Please, don’t feel bad.”

“Good,” he said, looking relieved. “I should apologize though. We spent the whole time talking about me and I really want to hear more about you.” Hideyoshi settled his fingers lightly over her hand. The touch was both too forward and achingly familiar. “I’d like to see you again. So you can tell me all about you.”

Mai’s heart stuttered in her chest. His fingertips were rough and warm and comforting. “I - yeah. I mean, there’s not much to tell about me, right? But we could talk again.”

Hideyoshi unlocked his phone and slid it over to her. “If you’re ok with it, could I have your number?”

She half wished he left his hand atop hers for just a little longer. Mai put her contact in his phone and slid it back to him. 

He smiled. “Can I walk you home?”

“No, that’s alright. I live the other direction anyway.” Mai gestured vaguely. 

“Ok. I’ll see you later then.” Hideyoshi stood up and then stopped. “Be careful, alright? Watch for cars at the crosswalk and if you see anyone suspicious -”

“Hideyoshi, I walk myself home all the time. I’ll be fine.” She poked his shoulder. “Why don’t you be careful on your walk home.”

He chuckled. “Alright. I guess I deserved that. Until next time, Mai.”

She thought about Hideyoshi the whole way home. He was such a nice guy. Exactly the kind of guy she should date. Smart, thoughtful, good job, handsome . . . her friend Asami would love him. Her mother would too, she thought. But she was determined to take things slow. See if he could be a friend first and then, maybe. Maybe.

Mai flopped onto her bed as soon as she got home. She was tired, but forced herself to check emails before getting ready for bed. Just in case something came in that was important. There were a few messages from suppliers about her orders, some spam, and an email from Mitsuhide.

Her heart did a lurching flip-flop in her chest, and she told it to calm down. He probably just wanted to know if she had any samples or mock-ups ready. Still, she’d missed talking to him the last couple of days. Which was silly. 

‘Hello Little Mouse’, the email began. She could imagine the curve of his lips in that knowing smile he always wore. ‘You’ve been avoiding me. I miss you when I don’t see you. Am I joking? You’ll have to visit if you want an answer.’ And after that, tomorrow’s date and a time with an address. It wasn’t the theater. 

She pulled it up online. It was some historical site. An old castle, or the remains anyway. Mitsuhide was so weird sometimes, she thought, feeling warmth bubble through her chest. He probably just wanted to show her some backdrop inspiration or something. Nothing to get worked up over. 

‘Hello Mitsuhide,’ strong start, she thought, rolling her eyes. She tried again. ‘Hello Golden-Eyed Adonis,’ Mai coughed and deleted the line. His name was probably the best way to start. Professional. Keep it professional. ‘I haven’t been avoiding you! Just busy with your commission. I’ll see you at the address you provided tomorrow. I’m sure you missed me as much as I missed you.’

There! Let him make of that what he wanted. She added her phone and a note that he could text instead of email if that was easier. Then she sent it off. A moment later, she realized she was staring at her email box waiting for a response. “Idiot,” she told herself. “He’s probably busy or already in bed.”

She got up to get ready for bed when her phone went off. A text. 

‘Thanks for your phone number, little one. I am looking forward to tomorrow.’ 

Mai’s lips turned up in a wide smile. ‘Me too,’ she wrote back. It wasn’t all that professional, but a little light flirtation was ok, right? Right. Besides, he started it so it wasn’t her fault. 

She stripped and rinsed off, then hopped into the bath to soak. Her thoughts stubbornly stuck to Mitsuhide. Remembering the way his eyes shone, the feel of his touch. Mai firmly tried to put him from her mind, repeating the word client and customer to herself as if it was a sacred prayer. The bath didn’t relax her half so much as she needed. She sighed and got out of the tub. Before long, she fell into bed and drifted in dreamless sleep. 

Next: Entwined Ch 3

[yinyangbuns]

The Love of a Ghost

Ao3 Link Here

It is a strange thing, to have died once. It is a stranger one, to have come back.

Sometimes, Wei Wuxian forgets that he’s not dead. 

Some days he wakes up and can’t draw in his first breath of the day through the surprise that he is awake at all.

It’s not like he remembers the years that he was dead. He doesn’t. Not enough to describe anything of real substance. He remembers drifting, maybe. For the most part he was simply aware of this strange, yawning abyss of… nothingness. A lonely road on a moonless night, eyes struggling to decipher shapes from the suffocating darkness. A pitch black room, the door locked, ears straining to hear the voices of his loved ones. The chilling awareness of having been somewhere so crushingly, claustrophobically full of emptiness, somewhere other.

But he does not remember being dead, not truly.

It’s just that he does remember dying. He wakes up and the memory of such heavy despair, of such sheer helplessness -  it haunts him. Of seeing his own brother leading a charge into his home, leading a charge against the family that had taken him in as one of their own, who had smiled fondly at him and placed food on his plate and scolded him when he passed it on to A-Yuan again, who had shaken their heads and said you matter too. Of the decision to destroy the amulet, to die alongside that family, to kill himself before he could be killed or captured or worse. Of the agony as the corpses fell upon him, the screams he locked tight in his throat, the icy talons of the resentful energy ravaging his body as it rushed through his ragged spiritual veins. The relief as the world faded away, of thinking finally, finally, he could rest - it all runs on repeat through his mind.

What it comes down to is this: Wei Wuxian stands and is confused by the weight of gravity.

His body believes he should be in free-fall and instead the burden of his own weight presses his toes into the grass of whatever campsite he has decided to stay in for the night.

His blood believes it should be dry and stagnant and so it pushes uncomfortably against his veins. 

His voice believes it should be screaming, and so sometimes when he speaks the words come out too loud. Other times it comes out tight and strangled, like it is trying to muffle the would-be sounds of terror or pain or grief that he could never allow anyone to hear.

All he should be able to taste is blood and ash, and yet the flavor of good food and rich wine bursts across his tongue so intensely it makes his cheeks ache.

Sometimes he ducks under doors he can fit under easily. Sometimes he squints to see things that are perfectly clear. Sometimes he has to raise a hand to shield his eyes against the brightness of a sun that he has forgotten, forgets even to breathe because his lungs don't think they should require air.

What it comes down to is that sometimes Wei Wuxian forgets that he’s alive.

But he is nothing if not an actor.

Immediately following his resurrection, it hadn’t been much of a problem. There had always been something that required his attention. Protecting the Lan disciples at Mo Manor, then defeating the statue of the goddess before she could hurt anyone, then confronting Jiang Cheng and getting hauled off to Gusu, then the arm, and all its mystery, then Jin Guangyao, then domestic bliss at Lan Zhan's side in Gusu - Wei Wuxian had been kept so busy that there simply hadn’t been time to sit down and truly feel the gift he’d been unwittingly given. And then he'd left the serenity of Cloud Recesses to travel on his own for a bit, and it had all come crashing down at once.

Death was peaceful, in a way. The sort of rest that Wei Wuxian had longed for, towards the end. It’s not that he wanted to die now that he was alive again (despite his lackluster reaction when he first opened his eyes). Far from it, in fact. He would never subject Lan Zhan to losing him a second time, even if he did wish for such a thing.

It’s just that the rest of him hadn’t quite caught up to the reality of the new life that sang in his veins.

He is not so bold as to think that nobody has noticed that something is off. He is certain, however, that they assume this wrongness has more to do with the tragedy of his life than that of his death.

He walks into Cloud Recesses on feet that hit the ground too heavily. He grips Chenqing in one hand, Suibian sitting heavily in his belt. His fingers are stiff over the smooth lacquer of her wood. The eyes of the cultivators he passes skip right over him. They move like white ghosts in the corners of his vision as he walks steadily onward.

(Are they the ghosts, or is he?)

Distantly he is aware of a younger Lan disciple running off in the direction of the receiving hall. A jade pass swings on the end of Wei Wuxian’s dizi. He wonders at it, at the trust shown in it. It still doesn't feel like something he deserves.

He wants to see Lan Zhan. He wants to look into Lan Zhan’s eyes and say, I want to stay. He wants Lan Zhan to look back at him and say, then stay.

Wei Wuxian is tired of wandering. He is tired of being a ghost, haunting the open plains and lush forests of the world.

He wants to go home.

He keeps walking aimlessly forward. It has been several months since he was last in Cloud Recesses, a promise and a white ribbon binding him even as he wandered further and further away from the fog-cloaked mountains.

The Cloud Recesses have not changed at all. They are comforting in their familiarity.

He walks until something appears to obstruct his path.

A wall of white stands before him. Hands gently cradle his elbows. 

When he looks up, his eyes meet gold. The eye contact is like an electric current through his bones.

Ah, to be seen. Ah, to be touched, to be grounded in this body of his, to be forcefully anchored to this hallowed ground.

His voice is chipper, like an impulse. “Lan Zhan!”

“Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan does not sound convinced. “You have returned.”

Wei Wuxian nods. He consciously makes his chest move with his breath. In. Out. 

“I have. Even the great Yiling Patriarch tires of traveling after a time!”

Lan Zhan hums. He steps back, hands moving to sit heavy on Wei Wuxian’s shoulders.

In. Out. Lan Zhan’s hands move with the motion of his breath.

There’s a furrow in Lan Zhan’s brow. Wei Wuxian watches it for a long moment. It grows deeper.

“-ei Ying?”

Wei Wuxian snaps back into reality. “Ah, Lan Zhan…”

He steps forward. Lan Zhan’s hands slip easily around his shoulders in an embrace. He lets his head thump lightly on his chest. He heaves a sigh. “I’m tired, Lan Zhan.”

He feels the effect his words have on Lan Zhan. His shoulders tense, just a little. His hands curl into the fabric of Wei Wuxian’s robes. 

“Then Wei Ying should rest.”

Wei Wuxian huffs a laugh, the first genuine one in quite a while. He pulls away just far enough to meet Lan Zhan’s eyes. “Lan Zhan, won’t you take your poor Wei Ying home?”

Lan Zhan scans his face carefully. One of his hands comes up to cradle the side of Wei Wuxian’s head with a tender grace that strikes Wei Wuxian right in his still-beating heart.

“Mn,” he says. “Let’s go home.”

And so they do. Lan Zhan doesn’t let go of him once. As they walk, he tells Wei Wuxian in low tones of the junior’s adventures (or misadventures, rather). He keeps a hand on Wei Wuxian’s arm, his lower back. He interlaces their fingers and steadily ignores the stares of his clansmen.

(And Wei Wuxian, for his part, is content to ignore them as well in favor of enjoying the closeness of the man he considers his soulmate.)

The doors to the Jingshi shine like a beacon of hope. 

They enter, and the world disappears behind her doors. The late afternoon sunlight sets the dust motes in the air alight. The scent of  Lan Zhan’s favored sandalwood incense fills the air. Wei Wuxian breathes it in and feels the burden of weeks fall from his shoulders.

He and Lan Zhan work in companionable silence. Lan Zhan unties the red ribbon from Wei Wuxian’s hair. He runs his finger through the fine, soft strands, massaging away the ache from having it tied up for so long with firm fingers. Wei Wuxian turns when he is finished and returns the gesture. The metal of his guan clinks quietly in his hands as he places them on the table.

When he reaches to remove his forehead ribbon, Lan Zhan leans his head ever so slightly forward.

Lan Zhan removes Wei Wuxian’s robes with the care of something precious. 

The words escape him into the quiet of their easy companionship before he can think to restrain them.

(He doesn’t know that he would have tried at all. Lan Zhan is… different. He doesn’t have to hide, here.)

“Sometimes, Lan Zhan," he says, voice startling in the heavy quiet of the room, "I feel like a ghost.”

Lan Zhan stiffens. His fingers tighten around the fabric in his grasp.

“Wei Ying is here.” He says, and he means here, in the Jingshi. He means here, solid and breathing. His voice shakes almost imperceptibly. 

Wei Wuxian is not blind to the extent to which Lan Zhan grieved for him. Rather, he cannot forget. The proof surrounds him, in the well-tread trail leading to the rabbit’s field, in the easy assurance Sizhui confronts the world with, confident in what he believes is right, in the stories he has heard of Lan Zhan’s night hunts in the years when Wei Wuxian was truly gone, always confronting evil, always fulfilling the promise they made together all those years ago. 

He is sorry to have put that tremble back into the voice of his love.

“I am, Lan Zhan. I’m not leaving.” He reassures. He steps closer to Lan Zhan. With every minute he spends in the balm that is Lan Zhan’s presence, he feels more alive. His chest lifts with more ease to allow his breath entrance. His muscles comply more easily when he raises them. His mouth tilts into a smile almost unconsciously.

“Good.” Lan Zhan says. His voice is almost stubbornly mulish under all that cool elegance. He folds Wei Wuxian’s robes neatly before doing the same to his own. Wei Wuxian watches his fingers work over the fabric. 

“But I’ve been wandering around, you know?” Wei Wuxian says. Lan Zhan pushes him backwards until his knees hit the bed. He goes easily, without a fight. “Everything has changed so much. And… well, I was dead, Lan Zhan. Sometimes…”

Lan Zhan pushes him back against the sheets before climbing in himself. He fluffs the blankets around Wei Wuxian with an almost offended air. “You are alive.”

“How do we define life, if ghosts do not live? Do they not speak? Do they not breathe, in their own way?” Wei Wuxian smiles sardonically, turning on his side to face Lan Zhan more directly. The blankets settle soft and warm around them, like a cocoon sequestering them away from the rest of the world. “Do they not grieve? Do they not rage against injustice, or lash out in fear?”

“How would you define it, then?” Lan Zhan’s voice is low and deep. It winds around Wei Wuxian like steam from a cup of warm tea. Wei Wuxian takes a long moment just to stare into his eyes. He runs a finger across the notched skin of Lan Zhan’s back.

“I think life must be defined by love.”

“Then there is no way that Wei Ying could be anything else.”

Wei Wuxian blinks. When he looks up, Lan Zhan’s eyes are soft and warm. They shine down at him like sunlight in the evening, like a warm glow that sets dust spinning in the air, like home. He never wants to leave.

Wei Wuxian closes his eyes, a smile on his face. He hums agreeably. He is, after everything, after all of the families he has lost, home at last. Warm sandalwood fills his nose. Firm hands encircle his body. He lies there, skin-to-skin with Lan Zhan. He feels, despite everything… alive.

[moonlightstar27]

The Cowboy Virus

Sombra x Cassidy

Contains: Smut, Death, Intoxication sex, cursing, rough sex, fluff near the end.

"Sombra where are you?! The target is getting away stupid girl!" Oh I don't think so, widow was always so mean to me during missions but it didn't matter we still get paid the same. "Already on the target widow, tell reaper to meet me on the east side of the building!" I was running so fast not even the cameras could catch me.

But then that's when it hit me. "OH FUCK!" A flashbang, but from where could have it come from- oh you have to be kidding me. It was none other then Cole Cassidy. That asshole, how dare he get in my way! That's when I threw my translocater and sprang back up just in time for reaper too show up.

"Sombra go get the target I'll take care of the cowboy." Nodding as I went along I found Alexander Turner, he had been an ex Talon scientist who was planning to sell out Talons sleeper agents. "It's over amigo, you know how this goes. You should've never turned on us." The door then busted open. "Oh no you don't, you're gon' leave him alone Pumpkin. I don't want Morrison on my ass."

I grabbed Alexander by his hair and twisted around and pointed my SMG to his head. "Mmmm, I don't think so and besides, I had two blood thirsty teammates who would kill me if i don't get this job done so....." Cassidy started chuckling then pointed his pistol at me. "I'm the fastest gun in the new west, what Makes you think you can beat me?" how foolish can this man be?

"See what happens when you try to play hero cowboy? People still die because you failed." Cole then fired off six shoots which only 2 of them managed to hit him. "Reaper, Sombra we must go now. They are ready for us." Reaper was the first one to leave. Making sure to take care of anyone else he saw on his way back.

"Oh cowboy don't look so down, you see me one day or another." I then booped his nose and left him there.

After that mission, I kept seeing him more and more. He was always there like he was tracking me down just so that he would be the one to take me out. But I always manage to slip away from him and laugh at him. But sometimes he dose cause me problems. I swear the last thing he did Moria nearly mademe her next test subject.

I spent most of the days trying to just rid of him, he's becoming a real pain to my fun. I don't like when people ruin my fun. "Aye dios mio, that man is gonna get my pay docked. I need a drink." I immediately went to my favorite bar in town where they make the best tequila shots ever.

I was on my fourth shot when the bartender yelled out "Cole Cassidy welcome back friend!" Cole.... Cassidy.... Well, this could be fun. Of course he took a sit right next to me, we locked eyes for a moment but only a moment. How does someone so annoy look at me with such eyes.

"Bartender the usually please." I continued to drink my shot and slammed it down on the table. "So, how many times did Morrison get on your ass for not catching me?" letting out a small chuckle I tilted my head into my hand which made a fist and looked at him.

"For the amount of shit you put me through, I reckon that you would make a nice cash reward." Nice huh? I thought my worth would've been more. I feel hurt. Cassidy then took a sip of his whiskey. He looked so somber. "Well, how bout I buy you a drink, one different from this?" for the first time tonight his brown eyes looked at me differently.

Loud laughter came from the both of us as the night came closer to the end. "Oh and then I shut the door on his face. Oh reaper was so mad!" Cassidy and I were at the point of tears, this night was one of the best I had since I joined Talon. "Okay guys you. I have to close up, don't worry about the tab Sombra. I'm too scared you might just empty my account if I even ask."

I just had to Boop his nose before cassidy pull me away. "To think a troublemaker like you would turn me on like this." Before I could say anything Cassidy turn my head and kissed me. It tasted fiery, guess it's from the whiskey, I could help but wrap my arms around his neck. It was like fire meeting Electricity.

Pulling away from the kiss he went straight to sucking and licking my neck, it felt so warm. "Mm wait, is this a trick to try and turn me. If so at least mm~ buy me dinner first cowboy." removing his self with a loud pop noise he looked up at me. "Now, if I wanted to that pumpkin. You would've beenbout the moment I step in. But no I want you doll. If you mind following me?" Wow this night just got interesting even more.

I found myself at the overwatch base, it turned me on that he was sneaking me in to a high level place like this. When got too his room. He immediately threw me to the bed. "I am going to show you things even you didn't know pumpkin."

Our lips intertwine once again that night, it felt so good. Cassidy then started kissing down my neck, stopping near my chest. Cassidy started fondling my chest. I started letting out soft moans. It didn't go unnoticed luckily.

"All those times you saw me, I wanted to be the one. I wouldn't let it be anyone else but me." That's when he started sucking on my titties, like he was hungry. It made me arch my back an make the loudest moan ever.

"Let me hear those beautiful moans pumpkin, let me be the one that makes you feel this good~" After he said that he switched tit and started rubbing my clit through my soaked panties. It felt like I was on fire at the moment.

The assault on my body didn't let up my legs started closing around his hands. "Oh come on, don't tell me you don't like this." He then moved down and pulled my legs open and started eating me out. He took his sweet time licking my clit. Giving it soft licks before he started eating it out like a hungry man.

My hands went straight to his hair pulling him closer to me, to feel it deeper within me. He wrapped his arms around my legs and lift me up. "Aw f-fuck. What are you that hungry. You about to... Shit- about to make me c-cum." He started sucking faster after I said that.

I was so lost in the feeling I nearly blacked out from the pleasure. After I few more sucks, I came all over his face, he had drunk every last drop. His beard was soaked in my juices. "You taste delicious doll~"

He then pulled me towards him and kissed me once more. His dick was pressed up against me, I started grinding on him and he started grunting and bucking his hips up towards me. "Woah there cowboy, at least let me take your pants off before you even cum."

He chuckled and let me down. I had unbuckled his pants and took his cock out. I gave it a few good rubs before popping it Into my mouth. "Yeah that's it, get it nice and wet for me. It's- fucking damn. It's so warm inside your mouth doll."

He grabbed the back if my head and thrusted into it roughly, then held it there for a moment. I felt like chocking cause of how deep it was in my mouth. He removed me from him and lifted me back on to the bed. He pumped himself before rubbing his tip against my pussy.

"You're such a fucking tease Sombra, but god do I love it so much." He pushed my legs up and plugged himself in me. His movements were slow, slowly pushing in and out, in and out, in and.... Out. He managed to drag out every moan from me. He grabbed the head board to giving him support.

I wanted him to go faster, I wanted him to pound me. "Hey, Cassidy. Oh~ G-go faster." He chuckled at my request. "Beg for it. Beg for me to go faster." He stopped waiting for me to beg. I rolled my ears and looked at him. "Please Cassidy, please pound in to me." That's all he needed before grabbing my sides and rammed into me.

He was fast and brutal with his onslaught oh my pussy. It was so intense I had wrapped my legs around him and clawed at his back. He then pull out all the way to his tip and slammed back down in me. His way of fucking me made me scream his name out loud.

At this point I was in tears, I felt close to cumming and it started to get really hot. "C-cassidy! I'm gonna cum!" He rammed deeper into me, I could feel he was close to. Cassidy then grabbed my face and kissed me, his paced quicken fast until he stopped.

He had still as he emptied his cum into my warm pussy. Cassidy then rolled over on the other side of the bed and pulled out. His cum poured out of me, I was tried and out of breath. Cassidy wrapped his arms and pulled his cover over us. "You're one bad cowboy." "You're one helluva good kisser." We bussed out laughing, till we cuddled and when I was just about to sleep.

"I love you Sombra."

[caughtredfeathered]

Keigo Takami || Hawks

He / Him || Demisexual || AFAB Intersex

Quirk: Heteromorph (Raptor), Fierce Wings. Hawks' wings have the ability to detach feathers and use them at his whim until the blood within them dies out. With stiffened keratin, they can become INCREDIBLY hard and sharp.

Occupation: Career criminal and thief.

Skills: Incredibly skilled in the air, able to make perilous dives and able to get to immense speed. He's also a capable liar and sneak, having stolen jewelry from a woman's neck without any notice. Can be very charismatic, despite his actual lack luster personal circle.

●○●○●○●○●○● ●○●○●○●○●○● ●○●○●○●○●○●

Brief Physical Description

Hawks is a young heteromorph that has features of a raptor and abilities that are closer to a peregrine falcon despite the fact he is most usually compared to, well, a hawk. His eyes are golden and focused, capable of binocular vision. He has a defined jaw and nose, and is notably fit-- though perhaps seems a little underweight for his height. He has blonde hair that is a tinge on the longer side and growing. His most notable feathers are the large feathered wings (and tail feathers) as well as sharpened, dark talons that extend from his last knuckle about an inch out, fully covering fingertips.

Personality

To others he doesn't know, Hawks seems incredibly bubbly and unassuming. He's good at making people feel comfortable. But behind shut doors, he's quiet and stiff, with a seeming worry of others coming after him with an increasing paranoia. Usually, the good hearted demeanor won't slip unless he's being backed into a corner, at which point... the claws come out.

Brief History

Includes mentions of child abuse, sexual abuse of a minor, and general violence. Please read at your own risk.

Keigo Takami, born to Kousei and Tomie Takami, was unwanted. He was a child born out of a marriage that wasn't entirely wanted on his father's side; Tomie was simply useful and marrying her kept her quiet, and as happy as the paranoid woman could get. Keigo's birth was actually unknown to his father as the man was on the run, nearly caught by those that would happily lock him in Tartarus for his criminal activity, from thievery to murder... but instead he ended up back at his apartment... to find a little boy with his wings waiting alongside his wife. So? Kousei took him. Unassuming and small, Keigo was an ideal student to his craft. While the man never truly cared for his child as a father should, he did ensure that Keigo remained alive and made sure the boy would run back to him both with small acts of affection... and cruel reminders of who he was meant to listen to.

As Keigo became a handsome young man, he became an optimal point of trade for the man as well. Something exotic other criminals might was some time with. Having learned young not to go against his father, Keigo did whatever was asked of him, and was thankful when he was just stealing from the next target. He was nicknamed 'Hawks' by the authorities who were unaware of his true name and relations. But, with growing unrest from villians? A small time criminal was the least of their concerns.

Now in his twenties, Hawks still jumps at his father's call, forever on a short leash as he's become the main 'worker' for the little nest of a family. However there's a restlessness to him, and an irritability as he feels his freedom slowly drying up. More recognizable, more likely to be caught... sometimes he wishes he just had an out.

[unknownjpegs]

hot

Benny is grumbling about a beer when they all crash through the door, a flurry of limbs and laughing and hoots of annoyed grunts from the vampire. They’re all disgusting. Height of the summer when the city doesn’t even cool enough at night. Covered in blood and worse — Xavier’s hair looks the same but it’s dripping blood in the narrow entryway, making Maran feel a bit sick to the stomach.

Four sets of eyes narrow when Lark flicks the flat’s flickering ceiling light on. The four of them in a cramped circle, staring at each other with red-streaked faces. 

“Gross.” Maran notes thinly. There’s a vampire talon stuck in Benny’s jacket, hooked into the fabric and torn from the finger. “Ack, Ben, gross.”

 It is. They are. This work always makes his stomach turn. It’s nasty work, and Maran doesn’t like the feeling of being layered. Sometimes it’s hard to wash off, sometimes it lingers. He’ll find blood under his fingernails days later, or a splinter from a stake, and think no, I brought it home with me, it’s part of me now. It seeps into everything, and Maran doesn’t like that.

But it’s not…all entirely bad. Because this is nice. Maran likes this. Standing in the foyer, watching Xavier and Lark bat at each other over some jokes, feeling watched by Benny. Feeling in it, around it, surrounding in turn. That bubble of people and people noise.

Maran likes working with Benny’s crew when they need the extra help. He likes feeling welcome. Being somebody, even if that somebody is a piece meant to fit somewhere without space of his own. As far as whole things go, it’s a good whole to be a part of — even if he wasn’t there to begin with. 

Xavier catches Benny’s shoulder with a firm hand. He’s tried to slip past, meander into the living room. He’s tracking crimson bootprints on the hardwood, the most covered out of all them; Lark’s only got a few splatters here and there. 

“Ah-ah. Shower.” Xavier announces, waving his hand at the hall, towards Benny’s room. The blond takes a purposeful step in the opposite direction, forcing Xavier to push him back. “I will take you out back and hose you both if I have to. Swear to Christ.”

“Wh-Why’s that hot?” Benny wonders, brow pulled thoughtfully.

Lark, exasperated: “Ben, come on.” Benny shrugs.

“Floors are fuckin’ sparkling, mate, and I appreciate the effort to keep it nice—” Maran cheeks to Xavier a wry, lip-puckered half smile. “But if you think you’re getting them that deposit back, you are mad.” 

“Shut up,” Xavier eyerolls, his cheeks a little pink. “God, I know. Shut up.”

And even then he still makes them all kick off their shoes in a pile, trying to contain the mess as much as possible.

*

Maran goes to Benny’s room, because he usually does. And he ducks into the attached bathroom to shower. Not because he usually does — he’s only showered here twice before. Neither times for sex, although it had left him feeling shivery and awkward in a similar way. Vulnerable, in somebody else’s space. 

Nothing fun about those times, just circumstances similar to these. Asked along a hunt, accepting it with an eagerness he tried to temper. Getting abso-fucking-lutely splattered and made nasty for the trouble. 

So Maran slips into the bathroom. And out of habit, his hand reaches for the knob.

He pauses. He locks it not because he doesn’t trust Benny, but because yeah, motion’s habitual at this point. Old man thought locked doors meant trouble. Meant Maran was getting up to it, specifically. Meant he had things to hide. Once he moved in with Benji, spent more time around the Palanivels, he locked every fucking door he wanted. Bedroom, bathroom, his fuckin’ closet if he stepped inside. Go in, lights on, lock door. Maybe he was hiding trouble, maybe he wasn’t. Maybe he has something to hide, and maybe he — 

Maran’s fingers pause at the knob of Benny’s bathroom. His thumb circles the button, hesitates. And then his hand falls away. 

He nudges the bottom of it with a blood soaked sock, pulling it open another few centimeters. Light spills out from that crack into the bedroom. He hears Lark across the flat singing something, because Benny’s beddoor is cracked too. 

He gets lost in the water as it spills into the drain, hand still clutched around the pulled back curtain. And he thinks about — 

Fabric snaps into the back of his thigh, slightly off-mark. When he yelps and turns around, Benny’s shirtless and winding it around his fist in a knot. Prepped for another snap. Maran narrows his eyes warningly. Probably less effective how wide he’s grin. 

“Ben — do fucking not. I’m sore.”

“N-nice.” 

He feels a little less silly for the strength of it, because Benny’s doing the same. Mostly. It’s that  weirdly hot, sleazy-wide thing. There’s a hint of something softer in his stare, something beneath the evil mischief. Maran gulps, feeling like he sometimes does when he’s around the other man, at the pinpoint focus of his gaze. 

Maran doesn’t usually like grins like that. Xavier’s freaks him out sometimes. And he doesn’t usually care for blue eyes, either, even how Ben’s are. Little eerie that way, all pale in his already pale face, washing him out. Thin ice over winter water. 

But Maran’s doing things that he wouldn’t usually, like not locking the door. And tonight, like maybe not going home alone to flat that feels half-mausoleum.

He turns back to the shower. Twists it on, zones out. Sound’s a good distraction from how quiet it is, other than their breath. Maran’s panting, shit.

 He shucks his shirt off, and it goes to the tile with a sickening plop. He pauses again, this time for a much longer moment. Stands outside the curtain with his hand under the spray. His neck feels prickly — being observed with careful attention. 

Turns his chin, but not enough to see Benny behind him — he can’t look, not for this. 

“I’d ask ya,” Maran says adjusting the temperature a little. “Ask you how you prefer it, hot or cold.” He laughs breathily. “But that’d mean you actually showered, huh, Ben?”

It’s unspoken, but clear. I want you to join. This is going to be more than kissing.

He nearly leaps into the air when a hand cups the back of his neck. Maran shivers hard. Starts to turn, but the hand tightens. He goes tense, chews at his lower lip and hopes the huff of air that squeeze pulls rom him isn’t too loud.

“H-how do you like it?” 

Alright — that one was fuckin’ loud. Shit.

“Hot.” Maran blurts, throat hoarse. He doesn’t — he likes cold showers. But the sudden tension, the anticipation, makes his mouth move.

There’s a low laugh, barely audible over the shower if it weren’t right in his ear. Teeth there immediately after. Maran definitely makes another noise, and tries to pretend it didn’t happen.

Benny’s hand on the back of his neck stays firm and a little mean, keeping him looking forward. But he can still dart his eyes to the side, see the back of stringy blond hair, clumped with blood, near his hip. 

Tattooed knuckles twist the dial until steam starts to fit the tiny room. Hands pull his pants, knuckles brushing his stomach. Maran stares at a spot ahead of him, chest heaving as his briefs and socks are tugged off, dumped in the same tile-staining pile. And then his eyes slip shut, because more clothing follows. Ben’s — jeans that are probably ruined, black t-shirt that he inspected a little too close, because it’d been tight. They’re both — 

Benny suddenly nudges him forward, so forward he goes; hisses at the temperature change. He feels weight at his back, hand at his hip gripping harder than they need to for balance alone. 

Maran’s face heats of its own accord, those alien nerves back. Benny’s hands aren’t more naked than they usually are, but the touch on his body feels naked. Not just that it reminds him of his own nudity. Just that it feels live-wire raw. Barrierless.  

Facing him, Benny takes up most of the spray. At that realization, Maran’s eyes quickly dip down. 

He feels a little bludgeoned. Lips definitely parted, his face doing something he doesn’t want to picture. He’s gotta work harder for air. Blood and water sluice off them both in trails that swirl pink in the drain. Maran’s eyes crawl upwards slowly.

“Give me a hand.” He tips his head forward. They’re standing close; closer than necessary for the space, and the tilt brings his dishwater-blond mop of hair directly into Maran’s face. 

And Maran takes the offered shampoo without question, does as asked. Every appreciative sigh or filthy grunt drops into his stomach like a stone, sinking into the bottom. Hands rest on his waist, travel appreciatively and hungry over his chest and behind, touching must less innocently than hands in hair. 

He’s hard by the time Ben’s hair is rinsed, after the water runs clear, after they’ve twisted and turned and molded two bodies underneath one spray. 

Not without effort and certainly not at peak efficiency, but they’d done it. Maran likes that they’d had to bump awkwardly together. So he’s hard, and it’s a bit embarrassing, but there’d been too many roaming brushes and teasing grabs on both sides.

Benny’s head tips back under the spray. When he faces forward again, Maran reaches up to brush back the strands for him. 

“Favor for a favor?” He asks cheekily, chin tilting down. With hesitantly curious fingers, Maran touches at his stomach, his chest. Feels exhilarating. The newness but similarity of the body. Somehow he’s comforted again to know it’ll just be… like this, with Ben. Completely new, but at least familiar.

They’re standing even closer, nearly chest to chest, and Benny doesn’t let his eyes fall from Maran’s. Doesn’t look down to navigate between slick flesh. Just holds his gaze with that winter-cold stare and takes him in hand. Maran realizes real fucking fast that it is an expert, confident hand.

So it is really fucking quick, and that’s embarrassing too.

Maran enjoys the intimacy of a shared shower — this isn’t his first time for that, just the first with Ben. Who presses a smirking mouth to his slack, open one, who keeps an arm slung around his waist while the other’s hand teases, pets, and then roughly tugs him. Fucking expert. Maran clutches at pale shoulders, eventually running one hand up the back of his head and into hair. 

Ben watches him throughout it. Maran watches back. Can’t do anything but. 

His greedy, smug expression makes him look frightening-sexy in a way that Maran hadn’t thought to find sexy. Under the spray, water drips down the planes of Ben’s face. Feeling the desire to do something, to make himself useful, he repeatedly pets away the wet strands whenever they slip forward into his eyes, stick to his cheeks. He rakes shaking hands through it, clutches at the back of his head. Whines and pants deliriously. 

And yeah, fuck, is it quick, because it is very fucking good. Just a hand, but not just: Ben’s. Somehow, still better and more satisfying than some of the other stuff Maran has done. Some of the sex, if he’s honest. 

“Fuck,” he grunts suddenly. His eyes slip shut, chin back. Ben leans forward and kisses down to his bobbing adam’s apple. Teeth there, hinting scrape of them and nothing more. “Oh, fuck, Ben—”

Sets him off when a smirk presses to his throat, one last squeezing pull that’s somehow shy of both bad and good. Maran has to lift a hand from that corded, shifting shoulder. Slap it over his mouth, grind his jaw hard to stop the stuttery noises that threaten to punch out. The orgasm smacks into him. One of those real, proper good ones; flashing bright with hard tugs in his gut, an end that feels impossible to fight off. The sort he only gets alone, or really trying for it. 

The sort he gets if he holds his breath right before. When his vision fuzzes, his brain goes sweetly blank — 

Then he’s back to himself under that warm pelting water. Panting, thinking it’s over, he drops that hand from his mouth.

But the fist around him keeps its rhythm and it makes him moan. Even when the bone-deep satisfaction settles into Maran, after he’s come down fully, that hand moves.The water drums on the tile, onto his chest, in his face. Becomes so, so loud in his ears. He holds onto Ben harder. Nails digging in too hard, but he can’t soften it because it’s too much — it’s too fucking much. With a whine, Maran tries to pull away even as his hips punch forward. 

“Ben?” He tries with a gasp, voice rough and hiccuping. It hitches high on the end, an almost-whine that makes his face proper fucking red.

“You got it,” Benny encourages, jaw clicking against Maran’s ear. His hand slows into an appreciative, maddening pull. “You got it, you cute fucking thing, yeah, go on.” 

That makes him gasp — makes his fingernails tighten to a bicep. He feels himself jerk full-body. He drops his head forward against Ben’s shoulder because it’s swimming with something alcoholic and sweet. He looks down, mouth agape as he watches more weakly leave him with a twitch, more of a mess get made against the stupid hip tattoo. He knows immediately that he’ll be tapping into that memory in the future. 

Ben tilts back to rinse off, smug and casual, big palm swiping over his stomach to clean himself. Maran stands there watching, hazy-eyed and swaying, until he’s gently smacked in the cheek with a cupped hand of water.

He splutters, batting at Benny’s fingers as they come up around his cheeks. 

“Oi! Fuck off, what is your problem?” 

“You’re w-wet and now I know w-what your cum face looks like,” Benny snorts, grinning filthily. “Got no f-fucking problem.” 

He pats behind him for then water, which splutters out slow from the old, shit pipes. And then he holds Maran there for so long that he starts shivering, despite all the flesh pressed together.

Benny moves slow, and although he approaches Maran with a towel, he pauses. Sees something they’re worth studying. Instead of drying Maran off, he hands him the towel. It’s a tiny offer of privacy. He’s been so careful and obvious about his wariness for boundaries and all that. 

“Movie w-when you’re done?”

Maran laughs, holding the fabric to his chest awkwardly. “You just wanna fuckin’ make out, man. Don’t lie.”

Ben flicks his chin and doesn’t deny it. Then he throws a towel over his damp shoulder before strolling out of the bathroom.

Out of his bedroom, too.

“Aw, Benny! What the fuck, dude?” Maran hears Lark shout in disgust. Imagines him covering those weird red eyes. “Would you have some fucking class?”

[kiyoobi]

i will follow you until the dark

pt 1

pairing: bakugou x f!reader

synopsis:

Everything's coming together in Bakugou's life. He's got you, a new hero ranking, even a new job with an agency that stole him from Endeavor. Everything is perfect... Until a brush with death and nothing is at it seems.

warnings: major character injury/death, angst, characters are all 20+, phurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, blood and injury, smut, ghost au, reapers, and as always

minors dni

-(-)-

Katsuki Bakugou hates waking up cold. He sleeps under a shit ton of blankets in the winter to prevent that very thing, and in the summer he sleeps with a fan instead of turning on the A/C. He hates being cold, he hates shivering, he hates that the cold restricts his sweat pores and makes it harder for him to use his quirk. On your first date, you asked him what temperature he keeps his thermostat at and you looked appalled by his answer.

“Well, I guess I won’t be staying the night then.” You smiled coyly and began to eat again, making his stomach twist at your implications.

“I don’t remember offering,” Katsuki scowls and then remembers you’re not supposed to do that on first dates. Fuck he hates this. He shouldn’t have listened to Denki, this is stupid. To his surprise, you laugh. You said something else afterwards, probably something only a smart ass would say, he can’t remember. But he remembers how hearing you laugh made his muscles relax and the nerves in his belly twist even more.

He’s only thinking about now, this two years later, because he woke up cold this early morning.

To anyone else this might not be weird, considering that it’s currently the dead of winter in Japan and he doesn’t hear the usual hum of the heater on. You’re in his arms though, both of you clad in hoodies and sweats under a horde of blankets, but despite that there’s a weird chill going down his spine, a feeling he usually gets when he’s at patrolling or on a mission and there’s something wrong about to happen. It’s a small noise, but it’s there: a shifting of one’s weight against the old floorboards.

Reasonably, Bakugou knows there isn’t anybody inside. All the windows are locked, the front door is locked, there’s no one aside from you and him (…and the stray cat you took a few months ago). Katsuki carefully untangles himself from you and covers you back with the fleece blanket before he quietly pads through your shared apartment to find whatever it is giving him that weird chill, or better yet find the noise. Each room is empty, as he expects but for some reason that doesn’t appease him. Bakugou sighs, massaging his neck while he tries to figure out what this gnawing anxiety in his belly means when he turns around and nearly jumps out of his skin.

“Fuck! You- fuck you!” His hand lands on his chest hoping to calm his pounding heart. Katsuki takes in a deep breath and scowls, “What the fuck are you doing? I could’ve blasted you!”

You raise an eyebrow, “What am I doing? What are you doing? You’re creeping around like a weirdo! How is it that you’re the up-and-coming number five hero and I can sneak up on you?” You walk towards him and flick his nose.

“Shut up.” He crinkles his nose and pulls you in, pressing a kiss against your hair. “It’s nothing. I thought I heard something.”

“Mhm,” you hum noncommittally. “We have a cat, she was probably fucking around somewhere.”

“Talon is sleeping on the couch she wasn’t fucking around,” Katsuki murmurs before he looks around over the crown of your head. “She’s not even fat enough to make the floors creak.”

“It’s an old apartment! Things creak, windows shake, sometimes candles blow out and you hear someone whispering your name.” You laugh when he narrows his eyes, “Come back to bed. It’s cold without you.”

You emphasize this by twisting your foot up and pushing under the hem of his sweatpants, pressing your cold toes against his skin. With a hiss, he jerks away and rolls his eyes at your giggling, still following you down the hallway back to bed and scolding you for not wearing socks.

He forgets about the weird chill until it happens again the next morning. And again. And again.

“We are not keeping the apartment at 80 degrees, Bakugou!” Your attempts to push him away from the thermostat is futile, and his smirk only pisses you off more.

“Oh it’s Bakugou now? Last night it was, ‘Katsuki! Katsuki! Katsuki!’” He cackles through his poor imitation of your moans and wraps his arms around your waist. “It’s fucking cold and you’re getting sick, now move.” Easily, Katsuki reminds you of the strength he has as a pro-hero as picks you up and forcibly sets you aside.

“‘M not sick,” you pout and slink your cold hands underneath his hoodie.

Katsuki hisses and shivers from the feeling of your hands pressing into his warm belly, “Uh-huh. Guess that means you don’t want my sick day soup then, idiot.”

“Well I never said no to that.”

-(-)-

The ring burns in his pocket.

Originally he hid it deep inside the closet inside a coat that you never use, until the heater broke this morning. His hands sweat as he heard you digging around trying to find a warmer jacket while you both waited for the handyman to fix the goddamn thing. He’s thanking everything in the universe that you gave up so quickly and made him look for it.

So now it’s in his pocket of the ridiculously large down coat with the zipper zipped up to just above his nose.

“You panicked??” Izuku’s voice is tinny through the receiver.

“Shut the fuck up,” Bakugou snaps at his phone. “I didn’t panic. I needed to move the ring and so I did. End of story.”

“Are you gonna propose soon then? How long are you gonna keep hiding it in your pocket, Kacchan?”

“Don’t fucking worry about it,” Katsuki rolls his eyes and glances at the apartment building where you are still trying to get ready. He pauses before adding, “…Tonight.”

With a wince, he pulls his phone away from his ear at the sound of Midoriya’s early congratulations. “Shut the fuck up, shitty nerd. They haven’t said yes, yet.”

“Yet,” Izuku gleefully laughs. “Tell your fiancé I say hi tonight then.”

Katsuki’s cheeks flush and it’s then that he sees you walking out the lobby, “Fuck off. Congrats yourself for number four. Next time I’ll be in the top ranks though, shitty nerd.”

“We’ll see about that, Kacchan! See ya la-!” Bakugo hangs up before Izuku can finish.

“Took you long enough,” His words don’t bite as he reaches out to grab your mitten-clad hands with his.

“I think it’s colder in our apartment than it is out here,” your voice is nasally now that your small cold has set in. “Who were you talking to?”

“Ah stupid fucking Deku. He’s trying to get me to rejoin Endeavor’s agency again.” He walks you towards the car, already running with the heat blasting so you don’t have to sit on frozen leather seats.

“Why don’t you?” You warm your hands against the vents, hoping that they warm up faster.

“Ah, I don’t know. I reached five with my job now,” Katsuki shakes his head and starts to gnaw on the inside of his cheek. He’s thought about it over a thousand times, but to be honest he’s leaning towards Shitty Hair’s offer. It’s just like something is holding him back, and he’s hesitant to admit that it might be fear of the unknown.

“The repair guy called and said he’ll have it fixed by tonight. We might as well stay outta his way.” Bakugou knows he’s not being subtle about changing the topic.

“Did he say what blew it out?”

Katsuki doesn’t answer and pointedly looks straight ahead as he drives.

“Katsuki,” you turn to face him better and your eyes narrow when you see him biting his lip. “Katsuki.”

“The heat was set too high for too long…” He mumbles, hoping you’d drop the topic and move on.

“Katsuki!” You smack his arm and he scowls, tutting his tongue at you.

“It’s freezing, and you got fucking sick because of it. How is it my fault our shitty heater couldn’t do its job??” Katsuki furrows his brows and glances over at you, watching you hold back from sniffling for the nth time.

“It’s your fault for trying to fix it and melting the fuse box,” you huff and sit back in your seat with crossed arms, discreetly wiping your nose when he looks away.

Katsuki looks at you again, not helping the upwards tug in his lips when he watches you pout. The ring burns in his pocket and he imagines you wearing it, showing it off to friends and family, you carrying his last name. Fuck it he’d take your last name if that’s what you wanted. He wonders what kind of wedding you both would have, if it’ll be small and private. Unfortunately with his ranking and you already in the public eye as his partner, his managers are going to expect a big ass party with all the most esteemed and honorable heroes. Lots of reporters. None of the food will be picked out by you. No. Fuck that. It’ll be whatever you want. He’ll fight heaven and hell for you and everyone knows it. What you want, you’ll get.

“Marry me,” he murmurs under his breath. The light turns red.

“What was that?” Your voice is congested and you don’t look up from your phone, still mindlessly scrolling through your social media feed.

“Marry me,” Katsuki repeats louder and more confidently. He watches as his words wash over you, until you finally snap your pretty little head up at him with eyes wide.

“What?” You blubber, locking your phone in the process. “Kat-Katsuki the light is green.” Your eyes nervously track over to the traffic light as it tells traffic to go, waiting for Bakugou to drive yet he doesn’t.

“I don’t care,” he smirks and takes out the velvet box from his pocket. He snaps it open with his fingers, ignoring the car horns blaring behind you both.

The gem matches your eyes, he thinks. Especially how they look in the sun. The same eyes that’re watering as you struggle to process this. Angry cars pass by you both with the drivers’ hands on their horn, and the ones who don’t pass make their annoyance heard as the light turns red again.

“Marry me,” He gives you that smile again. The one that’s only for you, the one that is soft and shows off the dimple on his left cheek, the one you see when you wake up and when you fall asleep.

“Okay,” you laugh and hold out your hand as he slips it on your finger. “Okay! Fuck!” You laugh and cry, not knowing if your nose is running because of your stupid cold or because you’re crying but you really don’t care. He kisses you sweetly, grateful for the few seconds you both have before the light turns green again.

He wasn’t planning on proposing to you in the middle of Musutafu’s streets, and he was also hoping you both would have a clean bill of health at the very least. But your hand is in his and he can feel your ring, he can feel your fingers squeezing his, cold as ice still. You keep this piece of news within the car, for at least a little longer before you both decide to tell close friends and family the news. You want this sliver of news between you both before the gossip catches on and reporters swarm you two with questions and photos of the happy couple. You want him, just him. And him, you.

Thankfully the heat is fixed and you both can keep this bubble going just a little longer. The apartment is warm again, even Talon is enjoying the heat by sitting her butt right on the air vent. The repairman is long gone, his invoice set on the counter that Katsuki is pressing you against. He deepens the kiss while stripping you of the many layers you wore to combat the cold. Katsuki swallows your soft noises and tries to shake off his own jacket before pressing into you again, his hips flushed against yours and you can feel the heat of his groin.

“You’re gonna get sick,” your words are muffled against his lips as you feebly move away from him.

“So I get a sick day,” Katsuki shrugs, leaning in again and keeping you in place with his warm hands on your cold cheeks.

Both of your jackets and hats and scarves pool around your ankles. You softly laugh when he pushes you onto the counter, settling in between your plush thighs as he starts to kiss up your jaw. His scent fills your senses as he works his way down your neck, floral and minty from the aftershave he used this morning. Everything about him makes you feel warm and your thoughts fuzzy. His lips and wandering hands grabbing at the fat of your hips and thighs, his tightening pants only growing tighter as you both desperately rut into the other.

“Bedroom,” he mutters more as a warning than a statement before picking you up. His words roll over your skin, prickling with excitement as you hear his deep voice cracking with lust.

Your sheets are still cold when you land on the bed, yet you barely can shiver before Bakugou starts to hold you close to him again. Declarations of “I love you’s” and what you’re going to do to each other linger in the air, until you’re gasping at the stretch of his fingers.

He nips at the curve of your neck and shoulders, laughing as you try to kick off your leggings so you can properly spread your legs for him.

“Katsuki,” you moan. “I need you. Please.”

“Just a bit more, baby. Gotta make sure I can fit inside your sweet pussy.” He curls and pumps his fingers inside your gummy walls, wondering why he didn’t just warm his hands this way hours earlier and jealous that his cock isn’t feeling the way you’re squeezing his thick fingers. Just a bit more, he thinks. When he finally does squeeze through, his pressed flush against yours and your hands fisting in his hair, he knows what it is making his belly warm inside.

It’s love that makes him quiver when he thrusts inside you, love that peppers across your skin as he kisses all your freckles, and it’s love that is shown in his eyes when he looks down at you. He moans your name in love, he makes you cum over and over out of love, and he holds you close in love.

With your ear pressed against his chest in the darkness of your shared room, you hear his heartbeat and know it’s yours. His fingers gently pop your knuckles and massage the tension in your hands as you both catch your breaths. The ring catches in the moonlight, winking at you both.

“Where did you hide this?” You whisper, your words muffling against his tacky skin.

“Don’t worry about it,” he scoffs. “There ain’t another one for you.”

“So romantic,” you laugh and nestle closer against his side. Bakugou only hums, not even realizing there’s a soft and dopey smile on his face still.

“I’m just saying that if you hid this then what else are you hiding- stop laughing!” He doesn’t take you seriously when you’re laughing at yourself, only rolling his eyes again at your attempt at mind games.

“Oh whatever you brat-” Katsuki’s laughter is cut short when he snaps his head towards the direction of the hallway. “Did you hear that?”

“Don’t change the subject,” you giggle and kiss up his jawline.

“Mm-mm, I’m serious.” Bakugou starts to untangle himself from you, grabbing his sweats and slipping them on over his bare half. “Stay here.”

“It’s Talon, stay in bed with me!” You take hold of his wrist despite both of you knowing he can pull away, and give him your best pout.

“Talon is on the bed, she’s been there the entire time. I couldn’t kick her off,” He keeps his eyes fixated on the closed door, waiting to hear the strange noise again.

“She’s been here the entire time?” You scoff and sit up, watching your orange tabby blink slowly at you.

Another floorboard groans and he makes his mind up. “Stay here.” His hand reaches back and grazes your fingers as he starts to slip on his sweats.

“Katsuki-” But he’s already quietly stepping out of your bedroom into the dark hallway.

There’s a certain mindset a pro-hero goes into when they’re working. Patrolling, missions, rescuing, combat. There’s a zone that they learn to hone while they’re children up until they’re licensed adult heroes. All their senses are heightened and honed to detect even the smallest of abnormalities. To not do so can be a matter of life or death. Bakugou thinks back to high school psychology when they had a lecture on the concept of “thin slicing”. Your brain recognizes patterns in your life, collects them, and memorizes them, and then compares them to other experiences you’ve had before. This all happens in a fraction of second, so fast that as human beings you aren’t even aware it’s happening until you feel it. The gut feeling everyone talks about.

“Listen to your gut feeling,” Aizawa had told them. “Better to be wrong and alive, than being right and dead.”

He moves stealthily through the apartment, his hands warming in preparation for the worst. The hairs on the back of his neck rise as he quietly moves from room to room. Nothing is off center, nothing has been moved, not even by a centimeter. The feeling doesn’t go away.

When he’s circled the apartment twice, Bakugo’s eyebrows pinch and he frowns. Your cat, having left the room now, starts to circle around Katsuki’s steps, nearly tripping him. With an annoyed exhale, Katsuki refills the cat bowl with kibble and returns to you again.

“What was it?” You whisper.

He shakes his head, still unable to shake off the gnawing feeling of anxiety and alarm in his lower belly. “Nothing. I’m gonna get us a better alarm system though. Can’t trust this shitty building,” he crawls back into bed with you. You’re wearing his sweatshirt now, and the worry between your eyes doesn’t leave even with him back in bed.

“Sorry,” he nudges your nose with his. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine, Katsuki.” You cup his cheeks and look into his scarlet eyes. “What’s been going on? You’ve been acting strange lately. Is it work or…”

He’s quiet before he decides to lean into your hands, eyes fluttering shut before he shifts to rest against your chest. He tries to think of an answer, on why he’s been on edge lately like this. Work hasn’t been stressful, not any more stressful at least. In fact, with the new rankings Bakugou feels that everything is finally coming into place. The city feels safer, civilians have started to lean their trust onto heroes again.

He can see a brighter future. One with you in it, one where he takes the number one spot, one with a family and little brats running around.

In his mind’s eye, everything in his future means you're there beside him.

It’s why listening to your heart right now calms him.

“I don’t know,” Bakugou answers truthfully, his voice is gruff and muffled in your sweater. “Sometimes work follows me home.”

“Not literally I hope,” you chuckle.

He peaks up and smiles again, “‘No not literally, idiot.”

-(-)-

Work has been shit all day. A blizzard is coming in and it might hit the city sooner than what the reporters are saying, it’s all hands on deck with the exception of the top five. Bakugou has been held from patrolling and working on his active cases today, all so that the top five ranked heroes can interview with Japan’s most elite magazine publisher. Sitting in front of a camera crew across from an interviewer isn’t how he wanted to spend his day. He was asked to come in with casual wear. “Be prepared to be dressed and made up over and over,” his manager warned him. Annoyance doesn’t even begin to describe how he’s feeling right now.

Bakugou’s interview was first, as number five in the hero ranks. Everything went smoothly, he answered the stupid questions, he played along with the idiocy and obsession with his physical appearance. What he couldn’t stand was the implication that his success was based on the prestigious connections to his old teachers and mentors: All Might, Endeavor, Best Jeanist.

“You’ve been so lucky to have gotten their help over the years-,” The woman (Suzuki? Katsuki can’t seem to remember her fucking name), crosses her legs before being interrupted abruptly.

“What does luck have to do with it? I didn’t ask for their help, they sought me out because I’m a fucking goddamn good hero- no scratch that. I’m the fucking best. I don’t need any old bastard to try and take credit for my hard fucking work!” Yeah… he knows he fucked up.

The poor interviewer is shell-shocked, her stupid professional smile frozen and twitching across her face as she tries to keep herself composed. “Ah, sorry. I- Congratulations on your rank, Dynamite. And good luck- I mean-!” Oh her name is Sasaki, Katsuki scowls, and that seems to only make her more nervous.

He rolls his eyes, catching a glimpse of a stiffened Deku watching the mess of an interview unravel. The others are wide eyed as well, bones stiff with second-hand embarrassment.

“I wouldn’t be here today if it weren’t for those who pushed me,” Katsuki grumbles and looks down at his hands. He thinks about the myth, Vena Amora, the vein that leads straight to one’s heart right from the finger. The promise you both made wrapped around yours, maybe he should get one too…

“It was my hard work and them pushing me to go further,” He looks ahead and watches Sasaki regain her composure, sitting up straighter as his response settles in the air. “It ain’t about luck.”

His assistant is no help, either. He’s a nervous, quirkless man who can’t multitask, and has been more of a wreck lately. And now, he spilled coffee all over Bakugou’s suit. So now Katsuki’s changing for the upteenth time, his jaw clenched as he tries to remember his breathing exercises.

Katsuki is lacing up his combat boots when he sees his phone light up with a message from you. He leans in and swipes to read your text, a faint smile already spreading across his lips.

you:

i put away all the supplies you got btw!! almost made me late to work! if this blizzard doesn’t come we are going to be eating in every day to get rid of this shit :P

You’ve sent a video attachment, and the moment he hears your voice it seems like the weight on his shoulders is already lifting. He watches you with a tiny smile, finding it easier to breathe again. You’re showing him all the little pottery projects that a third grade class on a class field trip had finished, laughing as you try to explain each student and their creation.

“They’re so fucking bad at throwing pottery! So cute!” You giggle and flip the camera back to yourself, you’re wearing a medical mask to protect your cold from the school children. Katsuki’s smile grows and he laughs softly to himself as you talk about which pottery piece is your unofficial favorite.

“Anyway! I hope today doesn’t suck ass. I have a commission to work on tonight, so I’ll be up when you get home. Okay bye!!”

Before Bakugou can text back, there’s a timid knock on the changing room door. He slips his phone in his pocket and pauses, taking a deep breath to try and dampen his annoyance. On the other side is his assistant, the man his agency thrusted upon him. He’s small, just like his employee file since there isn’t any quirk to input in the system. High school education, went to Tokyo University for a degree in public relations and Hero Statistics, and other things that bored Katsuki. He’s not sure why he would settle for being an assistant of an arrogant up-and-coming pro-hero, Bakugou has nothing to teach or offer him.

He tries to be patient with him though. Especially now that Akui is offering him another cup of coffee as penance for the one he spilled all over Bakugou just five minutes ago.

“Thanks,” Katsuki grumbles and takes it from Akui’s bony hand.

“Was that your fiancé on the phone?” Akui offers an awkward smile and his voice is wobbly as he tries to keep up with Bakugou.

“Yeah, playing with mud with some bratty kids. What’s this?” He glares at the stack of paperwork handed to him, and flipping through he groans. “Why is the commission so interested in this?”

“I- I don’t know, sir? They told me to hand it to you.” Akui stumbles beside Bakugou and glances at the paperwork, “It seems like they just want to know how you reached your ranking this year.”

“Because I fucking worked hard,” Bakugou scoffs. The warmth you left inside him is starting to grow cold, replaced instead with annoyance as the technical side of hero work starts to anchor in. “What’s so hard to understand?”

His assistant is silent as they stand together, watching the camera and stage crew adjust once again. The busy-body crew members zip back and forth as the number three hero takes her seat in the interview chair. Nejire Chan chats happily with the makeup artist touching up the blush on her cheeks, nothing that Bakugou can understand. To Katsuki’s left he can see the other two-thirds of UA’s infamous Big Three, Suneater and Lemillion, watching Nejire’s interview start.

“There’s a theory that was developed by some mathematicians.” When Akui speaks, Katsuki glances down at him, his assistant looking almost past the two heroes as he stares seriously into the distance. “It’s to help determine the predictability of a hero’s ranking. It’s supposed to be fairly accurate. Apparently, another hero was supposed to be in your place. Yet you defied those odds.”

It takes a moment for Katsuki to respond as he mulls his words over, “You studied statistics.” It’s spoken almost like a question, but Akui looks over at Bakugou, stunned that he even knows that fact about him.

“Y-yes!” Whatever reverie Akui was in, snaps.

“Do you agree with them?” Bakugou looks over at the man and wonders if he ever gets any sunlight. His pale skin makes him shiver just looking at him, and Bakugou wonders how someone could look so translucent under these lights.

“Yes,” he answers without hesitation, firmly. “You shouldn’t have won.” An emotion Katsuki doesn’t recognize flashes across Akui’s face, too quick for him before he settles back into the Akui he recognizes. “But- but that’s good! You defy odds, it makes you an amazing pro!”

Katsuki stares at Akui for a moment, a question lingering on his tongue before Izuku beats him to it. “Kacchan!”

“Get the fuck off me,” Bakugou shakes off Izuku who only holds on tighter.

“I’m getting calls for you from your agency, you shouldn’t have said that-!”

“Oh fuck off,” Katsuki rolls his eyes. “They got a good sound bite at the end, it's fine. This is all bullshit, anyway. We should be out there working. Not here getting pampered for doing our fucking jobs.” Izuku only hums back, obviously not agreeing with his behavior still.

Akui is called away, leaving behind the two younger pro-heroes to watch as Suneater nervously takes his place in the spotlight. A silence falls over the set as he speaks, everyone drawn in by his quiet voice and subtle, quirky charm. There’s a soft scratching of pencil on paper, and Bakugou doesn’t have to look to know that Izuku is taking notes.

“By the way, when the fuck did you tell people about Mud and I?”

Izuku stops his notetaking and looks up with a flash of confusion before he realizes who “Mud” is. Ah, your pottery. He smiles confusedly, “Uhh I don’t know what you mean. Everyone knows you two are dating.”

“You told people we got engaged though,” Katsuki glares at Deku who only grows more confused by the second.

“W-wait! You proposed? When the fuck did that happen? Why didn’t you tell me??” Izuku squeaks and his eyes grow large.

“Huh?! Since when do I have to tell you anything?!”

“I’m your best friend-!” He’s interrupted by a crew member scolding them both, leaving Deku to be blushing furiously and bowing in apology.

“Whatever,” Katsuki scoffs to himself. “We can’t really celebrate anyway until after the storm.”

“Are you guys all prepared?” Izuku is absent-mindedly playing with his hands as the two men watch the new number one hero step in his seat.

“Yeah, you?”

Deku nods, both of them are itching to get back on the field. Their agencies are in full emergency lockdown status, trying to get the city in lockdown to minimize casualties. Katsuki remembers clearly what the Endeavor agency’s procedures were for something like this, he’s certain that it’s killing Deku to be out of those plans now. Katsuki can’t say the same of his new agency, though. He’s a little perplexed by how their operations run for emergencies like the oncoming storm. Bakugou offered his services for an entire week before today, knowing that it’s an all hands on deck situation for pro-heroes to help. Yet his agency shut him out. They gave him fake smiles and assured him that his services should be focused elsewhere.

“You should come back,” Deku quietly tells Bakugou.

Katsuki only hums in reply, knowing how much he’s aching to go back. His gut tells him otherwise, it’s telling him he’s close to finding out who his employers actually are.

“Katsuki,” Izuku is staring at Bakugou, watching his eyes harden as he holds back something he can’t even tell his oldest friend. “Is everything okay?”

Katsuki can’t answer, because the obvious answer is yes. Everything is okay. This agency was able to make him go up higher in the ranks. Yet there’s this gnawing feeling in the back of his mind that he’s been forced to wear blinders, forced to look ahead and not at the man behind the curtain. He’s determined to pull it apart.

-(-)-

The ride home is quiet with the exception of the car radio playing softly in the background. Bakugou is exhausted, his shoulders carry the weight of the photoshoot and the interviews even more than they do on his normal patrolling days. Annoyingly, another pro is being interviewed right now. Katsuki turns the volume up a few notches, catching the familiar phantom pro-hero explaining her success in reaching the dead All Might’s ghost. Tch, there’s no one to prove her quirk even exists. Bakugou switches the radio station to a local channel that plays only classical and jazz music.

His manager gave him an earful about his outburst already, there was barely anything to salvage in his interview. An apology letter and an edible arrangement is going to be sent to the production crew, and one for just Sasaki, out of Bakugou’s next paycheck. He supposes he deserves that just a little. To be fair, though, Katsuki already privately apologized to her.

It’s been a long day.

He sighs in relief when your apartment comes to view, the street lights glowing serenely greet him up the sidewalk. Each step drags until he’s finally at your door, the bite of the wintery cold burns on his cheeks when he steps inside the hot apartment.

“I’m home!” He shrugs off his jacket, ears straining to hear your voice. Bakugou sheds his many layers without hearing you call back out to him, instead he’s only met with soft music. He glances at the clock above the stove, wondering why you’re up so late.

Katsuki heads to your mini studio, really it’s just a second bedroom that barely fits your pottery wheel and kiln. You both worked hard to renovate it, and by you both it was mostly Bakugou, but he was determined to have your space be done within a day. It’s where you spend your time working when you’re not at your studio, halfway across the city. When you told him that you are a potter, he teased you for playing with mud so much he ended up nicknaming you that.

The first time he knew he was in love with you was when you showed him how to throw pottery, the patience you had in him that not even Katsuki possessed as he struggled to mold the clay between his thick fingers. He grumbled and cursed under his breath with each failed attempt to make a decent bowl, until finally he did it. A wobbly, lopsided bowl that even your hands couldn’t make perfect as you attempted to guide him. Yet you grinned, proud of him for that shitty bowl. You cheered for him, even glazed the damn thing and now it sits by the doorway as a bowl that holds your keys.

“I don’t usually make shit with my hands,” he grumbled with the tips of his ears growing red.

“That’s bullshit,” you scoffed with your back turned to him. You were carefully putting away his bowl to be fired up in the kiln later, already wondering how you were gonna glaze it. “You've cooked for me before, that counts.”

Katsuki remembers realizing how you really view him for the first time. Not as the pro who’s explosions destroy and combust, not as the angry asshole who never learns to give up a fight. You didn’t see his hands are weapons of destruction. You saw him delicately plate food together, you’ve seen him make music with his hands, they’re the same hands who finds yours in the dark because he knows you’re afraid of what’s in the shadows. They’re the hands that slip through your fingers when he’s making love to you, they’re the hands that create wobbly bowls for you because you keep losing your keys.

It’s the first time he understood what being in love meant.

So he finds you now, totally entranced in another project that he assumes is the commission you mentioned earlier today.

“Playing with mud again?” He hears you snicker before you look over your shoulder, hands slick with wet clay as your creation spins before you.

“Mhm, ‘m almost done.” You flash him a smile and face your work again.

Katsuki pulls up another stool and sits right behind you, hooking his over over your shoulder to watch you work. Your ring finger is void of your engagement ring, although Bakugou doesn’t mind. It’s relaxing, mesmerizing even, watching your hands work so delicately to mold nothing into something.

“How long have you been workin’ on this, Mud?” Bakugou presses a kiss on your shoulder and stifles a laugh when your fingers dig a little too deep, collapsing the entire piece.

“Since noon,” you sigh and scrap the vase.

“You’re still not out of the woods just yet, why are you dressed like it’s still summer?”

“It’s hot,” you defend yourself with a laugh. An improperly timed sniffle escapes you and Bakugou snorts in reply, nuzzling his cold nose into your skin again.

“Can I help?” Bakugou moves in closer until his broad chest is pressed firmly against your back.

“Yeah,” you laugh. “Put your hands here… yup, and then you’re just gonna get them wet before we start.” Your hands dip into the bucket of murky water beside you and you wet Bakugou’s hands in the clay/water mixture. Your fingers are messier than his since you’ve been working all day, but as you prep his hands he can’t help smiling as you guide him.

“Mhm, perfect.” You mutter, curling your fingers against the wet clay as you try to form the base again. “Now just let the clay slide between your fingers.”

Katsuki does as you say, all the while pressing lingering kisses against your bare skin. You get hot in your little makeshift studio, and end up wearing shorts and tank tops in the dead of winter. It’s perfect for these moments, Katsuki thinks. Teasing you with kisses where he knows you’re most sensitive, letting the mud slip between his fingers before gliding his hands higher. He makes a bigger mess out of you, his hands caressing your wrists and forearms, gently massaging you all while kissing up your shoulder and neck. You’re melting under him, shy giggles slipping out like gasps from your lips as you try to work.

Bakugou kisses the junction of your ear and neck, gently nipping at your sensitive spot. He watches you with amusement as you try to mold the clay, his hands going back to where you first had him start. “Like this?” He whispers against your ear.

You can only hum in reply, making him grin. Each of his thick thighs are beside yours as he presses in closer to you, trapping you in. The heat of his body is molding you, melting and reshaping you as you attempt to steady your hands. Until finally, when he can’t take it anymore, Katsuki manages to slip your hands away from the clay. Your attention fixes back to him as you turn to kiss him back, his tongue slipping through your lips to taste you. His hands hold onto yours, distantly he thinks back to when he first knew he loved you.

“It’s gonna take me another whole ass day to try and fix this,” you whisper between kisses.

Katsuki rolls his eyes, “Shut up and lemme kiss you. I’ve missed you all day, Mud.”

“Oh yeah?” You smile as he trails his lips down your jaw. “Wanna show me how much you’ve missed me?”

“With pleasure,” Bakugou smirks against your skin before gently nibbling at you.

-(-)-

“What time is it?” You whisper from on top of his bare chest, still breathless.

Katsuki glances at the clock and curses under his breath, “Is the trash still coming?” His arms tighten around your waist as you twist to look, feeling you deflate.

“Yeah, the news said that they’re coming overnight before the storm hits,” you groan when he starts to slip you off him. “Katsuki, don’t leave!”

“You really wanna be stuck in this apartment with trash rotting in every corner?” Bakugou flashes you a smirk and pushes you back down into the mattress, kissing you passionately all the while.

“Maybe,” you mumble against his lips. Your arms wrap around his neck and you pull him down again, hoping he stays. “Lemme get dressed, I’ll come down with you.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes, but if it’s the only way you’ll let him go downstairs he’ll take it. “I ain’t waiting on ya though, I’ll be back before you’re even got your slippers on.”

It’s a small exaggeration that leaves you huffing and him grinning wickedly. However, to be fair, by the time Katsuki has gathered all the trash, you’re still in bed putting on socks. “I’ll meet you downstairs!”

Katsuki skips the elevator and decides to go down the stairs instead, not wanting to disturb the other tenants. The cold air nearly steals the oxygen from his lungs, already the wind is picking up and chills him down to his bones. Bakugou pushes through, hoping you actually don’t come down now. You’re still fighting that cold, you don’t need to be dealing with this shit.

It’s a small walk around the corner towards the dumpsters when it starts to snow, clumps that immediately stick on their landing. Katsuki watches for a moment, mesmerized by the snow catching onto his hoodie and settling against his blonde hair. He pauses for a moment, staring up into the sky framed by the city apartment buildings. The cold air whips at him, cutting through his hoodie and sweats. Bakugou snaps out of his trance slowly, shivering as he throws out the trash.

It happens far too quickly.

He’s pushed hard into the cold metal dumpster, immediately thrown off balance by the slick sidewalk. Something stabs into his back, again and again. The sight of his blood pooling against the snow pisses Katsuki off enough for him to stand again. With wobbly legs he runs after his attacker down the street, cursing himself for not being faster and for not sensing the danger faster.

“Katsuki!” Your voice calls out to him. “Katsuki!”

“Stay- stay back!” He yells back, turning only when he hears your screams.

You’re lying next to the dumpster, hunched over and screaming. Katsuki furrows his brows, panic lurching in his belly as he runs back towards you. The absolute horror settles into his bones colder than the air around him. You’re crying on top of his body, whimpering and crying out for help as your hands try to stop the blood from his wounds.

“Mud…” He tries to touch you but his hand slips through your face.

“Somebody! Somebody help me!” You scream louder and louder, voice cracking as you try to cradle his body closer to you.

“I’m- I’m right here! Goddamn it, I’m right here!” Katsuki screams right by your ear, trying to touch you.

“You can’t leave me, don’t you leave me- Help! Somebody help me!”

A pro-hero he doesn’t recognize arrives on the scene. And then the ambulances.

Katsuki stays by your side, desperately trying to stay by your side. He catches on to your whispered pleas, begging him to hold on even though he’s right next to you trying to do the exact same thing.

He doesn’t look at the body whose hand you’re holding, it’s not him. He’s right next to you. He's right next to you, please look at him.

The doctors tell you he was stabbed by someone who’s quirk turns blood into poison. That’s how he…

“I’m not dead! I’m right here! I’m right fucking here!” Katsuki screams into the doctor’s face, all the rage boiling over inside him until he’s red in the face. “I ain’t fucking dead!”

He tries to stop them from telling you that he’s gone, he tries to cradle you against him when you curl into yourself. He just helplessly falls through the molecules instead.

“Are you ready?” He waits for you to reply, watching you cry as the doctor awkwardly pats your shoulder and gives you the space to grieve.

“Are you ready?” The voice asks again, this time there’s a tap on his shoulder.

Bakugou turns, unable to think. “Me? You’re talking to me? You can see me?”

“Yes of course,” it says. Whatever it is, it’s dressed in dark robes with a hood. The face is static aside from their eyes, yellow and bright as it watches him. “Are you ready?” They ask again.

“For what?” Katsuki steps back when they step forward. “Ready for what?” He spats out, scowling when they step closer again. “Back the fuck up!” He lunges forward with his palms outstretched, ready to attack. The usual sparks of an explosion are gone, nothing happens.

The being stares at him unimpressed. “Are you done? I don’t have all day, I kinda have a quota to meet.”

“N-no, I ain’t- I ain’t going with you!” Katsuki lurches back, heart aching that he isn’t near you anymore as it steps closer to him.

“Well, Katsuki Bakugou. You’re dead, and I’m here to take you.” They step right in front of you, not that you can see them. Their head tilts and its yellow eyes squint at Bakugou, “So it seems like we are at a crossroads now.”

[scary-lasagna]

okok id love your thoughts- s/o whose in a relationship with both Zalgo and Slender? would they have like, a rivalry or be petty behind the s/os back or be chill? i love both these creatures your honour 😔/lh

Poly!Zalgo & Slender

It's definitely a light rivalry between them.

They're also consistently trying to impress each other as well as you.

Not that they're aware of that, but it's definitely a common occurrence to see them showing off in the same room without you.

"Well, I bought them a choker to match my new suit."

"Well, I am taking them out to the new theatrical show that I managed to get tickets for."

"Y-You are?"

"Yes."

"...May I come?"

"You're lucky I bought three."

But yes, they're also extremely petty. Like annoyingly petty towards each other. Slender will purposefully misplace things, leave doors open, sometimes he'll even trip Zalgo as he's walking.

And Zalgo will fuck with Slender's routine. He'll sit in his chairs, disorganize his papers, lock him in/out of rooms. A true menace to society.

And they both come to you for the middle ground. Lucky you. Sometimes you wonder if you're just dating full-grown toddlers that somehow managed to be some of the best powerful figures in the Underrealm.

But all in all, you're very well treated. Both Slender and Zalgo are gentlemen, and usually keep their negativity out of your eyesight. Most of their energy goes towards making you happy and spoiling you with love and affection.

They're both excellent lovers, and never fail to give you your desires, some you weren't even aware of having.

Like living in the moment of staring at a crackling fireplace under a candle-lit chandelier, sandwiched wrapped in the arms of both your lovers while pondering your future together.

Slender will feel secure and relaxed, despite Zalgos talons tracing along his jawline, almost threatening to break skin. And vice versa with a loose tendril cradling Zalgo's collarbone.

Despite everything, they hold trust in each other, with you being the bridge that connects their unlikely relationship.

[elysiadjarin]

Kill the Lights

Previous chapter: https://elysiadjarin.tumblr.com/post/648130867354632192/kill-the-lights

Warnings: spice. Oh gods, the spice. 18+ only, minors dni. Smut, consensual, public sex, foreplay, sub/dom, light bondage, threesome or poly, cum play, unprotected sex (irl wrap it before you tap it please people be safe), breeding kink

4: Kitchen Kiss

“Hey Rose, there’s someone asking for you at the front, says he knows you.” Jay’s head poked around the corner of a spice rack.

I looked up with a blink. “Did he give a name?”

“Uh... something like that one reporter’s name. Brock?” He squinted.

“Oh, Eddie!” I dried off my hands. “Becca, could you take over for me for a minute? My boyfriend is out front.”

Becca raised an eyebrow. “Sure, but you’re telling me why you haven’t told me about having a boyfriend when you get back.”

I gave her a sheepish smile. “Ok ok, be back.” I kept my apron on and went out to see Eddie standing by the kitchen doors dressed in a pair of slacks and a button-down.

“Hey Rosy.” He smiled lopsidedly, his eyes a little tired.

I reached up to give him a hug. “Are you ok? You look tired.”

He hugged me back. “Yeah, I just got done with an interview. I have to go back home and work on typing it up.”

I pursed my lips. “I think there’s a bit of leftover pie in the fridge if you need a pick me up.” He’d moved in with me from his run-down apartment a week ago, and the arrangement worked out well for both of us. Anne and Dan had even helped Eddie move in, Anne ecstatic that we’d gotten together.

He sighed. “You’re incredible.” He gave me a quick kiss.

I patted his chest. “You’ve never visited me at work though, is there something else going on?”

He glanced over my shoulder. “Do you mind if we... step away?”

I blinked, then realized. “Oh! Right, here.” I led him over to the small locker room I had as head chef, closing the door. “Private locker room, perks of being head chef,” I explained. “What’s up?”

Eddie grimaced, then reached out for me. “He’s been-“

As soon as his hand touched me, I realized that it was Venom.

“He’s insisting he wants to be with you for the rest of the day.” Eddie pulled me closer.

“Well, that’s fine with me,” I said, a little confused. I’d bonded with Venom twice before, mostly just for the comfort of it, besides the one time we’d been... in bed.

“I told him you had work,” Eddie tried to apologize.

“It’s ok, really. As long as he stays out of sight I’ll be fine- well, to be honest most of my coworkers know I’m a Mutant anyway so if a slip up happens I suppose it won’t be the end of the world.” I ran my fingers through his hair. “It’s about to be dinner rush hour, and I have two hours left in my shift.”

He nodded. “If you’re sure.”

I smiled. “Why would I not be okay with it?” I laughed. “It’s my boyfriend.”

He chuckled slightly. “I’ll leave you to it, I’m planning to get at least half the report written up before dinner.”

“Sure, do you mind if I bring dinner from here tonight?”

“Nope.” He bent, pressing his mouth to mine.

I clung to his shoulders, feeling Venom start to creep down my neck and face, down my shoulders, worming into my shirt and down my torso. When Eddie let go, I gasped a little.

“You okay?” he murmured.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I breathed. Accustoming myself to the sensation of Venom wrapping himself around my hips, I gave him a distracted smile. I gasped and slapped my side as I felt tendrils slip under my bra. “Ven, I’m at work, stop it,” I hissed.

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, shoulda warned you, he’s pretty... horny.”

I shook my head. “I’ll deal with it I guess.” I gave him another kiss. “Alright, I’m on the clock. See you tonight.”

He waved goodbye as I led him to the door, and I turned back to the kitchen.

Hello, Rose.

I closed my eyes briefly at the sound of his deep husk caressing my name. “Hi, love,” I murmured. “Missed you.”

Becca grabbed me. “Wait, whoa, that’s the Edward Brock, or I’m blind. He’s your boyfriend? How?” she demanded.

I smiled nervously. “Um, mutual friends... and he may or may not have saved me from being jumped in an alleyway-“

“Oh. My. Gosh.” She shook my shoulders. “What? Spill the tea, right now.”

I talked while we worked, shaking my head at her love of gossip. Still, I knew she’d keep the information private. Becca may love the tea, but she only ever kept it in the cup.

But even as we moved on to focusing on the customers pouring in, I kept getting distracted. Venom kept being active, taking advantage of my loose clothing and apron to hide how he kept wrapping around my hips. He crawled up my sides, sliding under my bra. His tendrils tightened a little around my breasts, and I had to pause and take a breath.

“Ven,” I hissed under the noise of a popping frying pan.

Been missing you all day, Rose.

I bit my tongue and tried to discreetly lean my elbows against the counter to hold myself up. Venom teased my thighs, barely pushing at my underwear. I’d already learned that needy Venom was... needy. Not that I exactly would complain, but still... I was at work.

Will be good. Just an hour and a half.

I almost snorted, glancing behind me. “We both know you’re not patient, love.”

Are you?

Well frick. An hour and a half of Venom being distracting? Anywhere but work and I would’ve been fine, but it was much harder to explain why I was flushed and weak-kneed to my coworkers. Still... I could try. Even if it would be a bit futile. But what else could I do?

I took a deep breath and walked over to check the desserts. Glancing at the clock, I wondered how slow it would creep tonight. Normally it seemed to go by too fast. Tonight, I wasn’t too sure.

“Rose, this icing isn’t setting right,” one of my pastry chefs groaned.

I poked at the bag. “Ratios all good?”

“Yep, I double checked.”

I sighed. “Try making a new batch? Maybe something in it isn’t good. Might as well be safe.”

She nodded and scrapped it, starting over.

I hurried over to another station as Becca waved me over. Fixing the issue, I’d just turned to tell Becca something when I choked. Venom slipped under my underwear, inching closer to my core.

“You okay, Rose?”

I nodded, covering my mouth. “Sorry,” I coughed, “something in the air I think.”

She handed me water, and I took a hasty sip. “Thanks.”

“Alright, first order’s out,” she said grimly. “We’re on schedule, thankfully.”

“I’d like to be ahead if possible,” I said ruefully. “But we’ll do the best we can.”

You’re wet.

I grabbed onto Jay’s arm as my knees went weak. Venom slipped a single tendril into me, teasingly sliding in and out. My entire body felt hypersensitive, Venom’s fingers teasing my nipples not helping in the least.

“Whoa, Rose, you good?” Jay grabbed me.

I winced. “Sorry, Jay. My knee is...”

“Hey, we’re doing just fine here. Do you need to go sit down for a minute? I know you get stressed sometimes,” he said, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

I nodded. “I’ll be back.”

“Take your time.”

I managed to make it back to my room and lock the door just as my knees buckled. Hand pressed against the floor, I moaned. He’d slid further into me, hands forming around my hips.

Is thirty minutes a record? Venom gloated.

“I’m at work,” I complained, trembling. Everything felt so sensitive. “Did something happen today?”

Venom growled, and he abruptly pushed into me. I gasped, jerking, as he completely filled me in a way that made my stomach swell. His matter inside me felt so different from anything else, so satisfyingly full.

Mine.

“Yes,” I whimpered. “You know I am. But what-“ His thrust, decisive and possessive, cut me off.

Stupid guy saying you only want Eddie for money.

I staggered up and collapsed against my closet, trying to get my apron off. I knew I wasn’t finishing my last hour. Not after what he’d said.

“Ven, we both know I’m the one with money right now-“ My apron fluttered off into the hamper as my fingers clenched in my shirt. I barely managed to get it off, fingers trembling. “And other people are dumb. What- happened?” I managed, pitching against the wall as Venom thrust.

I gasped as he formed in front of me, tongue hanging as he drooled heavily. His hands appeared around my hips, tendrils peeling my pants off for me. His hips bucked against me, and his hands brought me down on him in a way that made my eyes roll up.

Doesn’t matter. Rose is ours. No one can else can do this to you.

I had to privately agree. Not without getting kicked, anyway. I’d probably get the full story out of Eddie. But for the moment, I could only focus on Venom’s thumb sliding down to press on my clit.

I tried to muffle my moan, pleasure sparking through me almost unbearably. Venom knew my body too well. Though he and Eddie felt equally good in different ways, something about Venom always reduced me to putty in his giant hands. As a switch, it was unbelievably satisfying to have Eddie flip my dom side and Venom control my sub self.

At this point Venom had to hold me up completely, pushing into me, pulsing and twisting. His mouth slid across my cheek, my jaw, down to my throat. Everything fuzzed, until all I knew was that he was hissing my name, muttering into my skin, talons wrapped around my hips with a gentle sort of decisiveness that made me completely melt. I gave in so readily under his touch, his claws raking softly across my skin to barely leave a mark.

I let out a shuddering moan, his name spilling from my lips. “Venom- oh, Ven.”

Rose is mine. Love my Rose. He purred.

My body kept teetering closer and closer to the edge, the pleasure steady and somehow increasing. I could barely think, barely do anything but say his name, over and over, beg for him. My fingers scrabbled at his chest, slipping against his matter, sinking into it.

His tongue lolled, drooling sloppily onto my chest and arms until it slid down my stomach only for him to lick it off. The moment his talon scraped across my clit again, I arched.

Venom snarled, low and deep in a way that rattled deep into me. He bucked one more time, and I could feel the familiar heat gush into me. He ground against me a few more times, prolonging my pleasure as I whimpered and fell against his chest.

Eventually he sank back into my skin, leaving me slumped against the wall, panting. I gasped for breath, my body still trembling with aftershocks. Venom, as always, had plugged me, keeping everything inside me. For once I was more grateful than usual, knowing that the mess would be difficult to clean up at work. Not to mention, I’d rather not walk around leaking everywhere.

I finally dragged myself up. I had to go home. Fumbling for my phone, I sent a text to Becca telling her that I had to leave because I wasn’t feeling up to snuff. Once I managed to gather myself enough, I pulled on my clothes and threw on my jacket. Grabbing my stuff, I quietly left the restaurant through the service doors and made my way to my car.

I slumped into the seat, unzipping my coat briefly. My entire body felt so hot, and I bit my lip as I felt Venom sliding around my waist again.

Going home to Eddie?

“You win, Ven,” I half-laughed, starting the car. “You got me.”

Eddie wants kids.

I swallowed. “What do you think of that, Ven?” I asked, driving home. My knuckles whitened around the wheel as I tried to keep my hands from trembling. My entire body still felt hypersensitive, and it wasn’t helping that Venom kept occasionally teasing my clit, edging me further.

The idea of children didn’t exactly scare me. I’d wanted kids of my own, but never thought I’d find the guy to settle down with. Though it broke my heart to think of Eddie or Venom leaving me, the idea of having a little one with both of them to cherish and raise was something I would jump at. Though, I hoped that neither of them would leave either.

Would never leave you, Rose. Venom sounded offended. We love you.

I took in a breath. “I know, Ven. It’s just... I can’t help it. It’s a fear.”

We want a kid with Rose. My kind reproduces asexually, but still need a good parent. Raise kids properly.

I pulled into the parking garage and parked, then pulled out the keys and leaned back, hand on the door. “We should talk to Eddie about it first, though, don’t you think?”

Eddie is afraid you’ll leave. Scared of having kids. Scared he will be a bad parent.

I smiled faintly. “Do you think we could change that?”

I think we can. A hint of lust laced his tone, and I swung out of the car.

“So, we agree on a game plan?” I began to walk toward the elevator, stripping out of my shirt and pants and zipping up my coat to hide my underwear.

He just answered with a chuckle, and I smirked. My switch flipped, and I licked my lips as I exited the elevator. For a brief moment, I was glad I’d decided to wear a pair of matching and relatively lacy underwear. I opened the door and let my clothes and bag slide to the floor.

Venom untied my hair, and I ruffled it with a murmured thanks. Kicking off my shoes, I reached up to untie my scarf as I walked into the office.

Eddie turned, looking surprised to see me. “Rose? I thought you still had a while to-“ His mouth dropped as the coat slid off my shoulders to pool on the floor.

I pulled the scarf off, then walked up to him in the chair. Using the scarf, I wrapped it around his shoulders and sat myself in his lap. Pulling him closer, I pressed a kiss to his neck as he grabbed my waist.

“I think Ven might have been too strong of a corruption for me, Eddie,” I murmured, sliding my arms around his shoulders. I pulled back to give him a pout, burying my fingers into his hair.

He sucked in a breath. “I- uh- I sorta thought he might calm down just being near you... guess I was wrong-?” he chuckled nervously. “Um- Rose, are you- mm.”

I cut him off with a kiss, my hand sliding down to his. “Eddie,” I murmured against his mouth, pulling his hand to my underwear. “I think your girlfriend isn’t quite full enough,” I suggested, making him sink his fingers into me.

He sucked in a sharp breath as Venom’s matter started to spill out of me around his fingers, puddling in his lap. He grunted, and I could feel his pants strain against me.

“Do you mind if I need a little attention?” I breathed, biting my lip as I sat up.

He licked his lips. “I... I do have work...” but it was weak.

I bent to kiss his ear. “But I really, really want you under me,” I whimpered. “Venom and I want to have your hands around my hips, buried inside of me.”

His breath stuttered. “You know I’m yours, Rose,” he said weakly, his voice turning into the submissive whimper I loved so much.

Venom took over me briefly, taking us to the bedroom. He got rid of Eddie’s pants and shirt, then melted up my arms as he settled me over Eddie’s hips. Venom left me to sink into Eddie, wrenching his arms up to latch onto the headboard, securing him to the bed.

I peeled my underwear off, ignoring how they were soaked through with black. It leaked down me, onto Eddie’s straining member as he bucked and grunted.

“Please- Ven- I want to touch her,” Eddie groaned, his eyes fixed on me.

I bent to kiss him, sliding my hands up his chest. “If you be a good boy for Rose and Venom tonight, Eddie, I think you’ll like what we’ve agreed on,” I teased, smiling playfully as I rocked my hips up.

He hissed, then panted. “I’ll be good.” He gulped as I brushed my fingers over his nipples. “I promise, Rose. Please, he’s been in my head all day and I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“Hmm, I don’t know...” I pursed my lips thoughtfully. “You did dump him on me at work.” I gave him a pout. “Don’t you know what Ven did? How he teased me at work for an hour before making me go to the locker room? How he pushed me against the wall and took care of me, reminding me that you were here at home?”

His hips strained against Venom futilely. “Please, Rose,” he whined. “I need it, please, I need you. We need you.” His dark eyes all but begged for me. “I’m so close already, please.”

I tilted my head and reached down, dragging my fingers across his length. It twitched as he hissed, and I pulled it up to tease it against my entrance. I smiled. “Oh? Do you want Venom to just slide it into me, so slowly? Hmm?”

He groaned. “Yes, please.”

Venom formed his body under Eddie, trapping him between me and himself. He still held Eddie captive, but reached his own hands up to start teasing my breasts. Eddie groaned, tortured at the sight.

“This isn’t fair,” Eddie groaned.

Venom chuckled. I had her at work today, Eddie. She was hot and wet and soft, and perfect. She kept saying my name, wanting me. His tongue flickered.

I squirmed for effect under his hands. “Hn- not my nipples, Ven- you’ve been teasing me this whole time,” I whined. “It’s my turn to play with Eddie. I want him.” I pouted.

His hands slid down to my hips and pulled me down into a kiss. I melted into Eddie’s body, moaning into Venom’s mouth. Eddie whimpered between us, squirming, trying to search for friction, for some sort of satisfaction.

Isn’t our Rose beautiful, Eddie? Venom growled, his tendrils sliding between us to wrap around Eddie’s length. His hands lifted my hips, clearly teasing my lips against Eddie’s throbbing, leaking length. His thumbs parted my lips, and thick, black tendrils crawled down to start teasing my clit.

I moaned, leaning back so Venom could control my hips. “Oh- yes, Ven.” I bit my lip. “Tease me with Eddie, please.”

Eddie moaned. “Ven, Rose, please. I can’t take much more.”

He can’t hold on much longer, Rose. Venom grinned, tongue wrapping around Eddie’s throat.

“But I love it when he begs, Ven. He’s so cute. Please tease a little more?” I fluttered my eyelashes at him.

His tendrils squeezed Eddie’s tip, then slowly rubbed the head against me. Make him cum inside you?

“Yes!” I reached down to lace my fingers in Venom’s, still wrapped around my hips. “Please, make him cum inside me. Like you did.”

Eddie gasped sharply. “W-wait- but I- I don’t have a condom on-“

And she’s not on the pill. Venom agreed, dipping Eddie’s tip into me.

Eddie’s wide eyes met mine. “Wait, if you put me in I- I’ll cum.”

And if Rose is okay with that? Venom asked, his fingers lacing in mine as his hands supported me.

Eddie stared at me.

I supported myself against Venom’s hands, teasing myself against Eddie’s tip as Venom’s tendrils held it up against me. “I want you to cum in me, Eddie.”

We talked, Eddie.

“What?” He sucked in a sharp breath as I slid his tip into me, feeling the stretch. “You-?”

She wants it, Eddie. Wants us.

“You want- you want it, Rose? I mean... you’re okay with-?”

I nodded, biting my lip and whimpering as Venom twitched against my clit. “Yes. I want you and Venom, Eddie. I want to try to have kids with both of you. I love both of you so much. I’ve always wanted a baby.”

Venom let me sink another inch onto Eddie, his fingers tightening around mine as I moaned. Eddie’s breaths were coming short and fast, his eyes rolling. I slid down onto Eddie all the way, until Venom’s tendrils on my clit were resting against Eddie’s pelvis. Eddie let out a broken moan, jerking as he moaned my name, over and over. Venom growled, and I bit my lips in satisfaction as I felt Eddie spill into me.

It wasn’t enough. Venom let me bend down to kiss Eddie, soft and deep. His hands held my hips tightly against him and Eddie, his tendrils wrapping around Eddie’s length still buried inside me.

“Oh- Venom- Rose- wait, it’s too- it’s too sensitive,” he cried, jerking. “No, stop, I can’t-“

I thrust a little, grinding my hips against him. Venom continued to tease Eddie’s tip, over stimulating him as he twisted and moaned. “Wait- please- I’ll come again-“

“It’s okay, Eddie,” I murmured, kissing him gently. “Cum inside me. Let me and Ven feel you cum in me. I want it. I want you.”

He let out a cry, his eyes welling as he bucked and jerked. He spilled into me again, sobbing out our names. Venom finally let him go, though I kept him buried deep inside me.

“Please don’t let it out of me, Ven,” I pleaded softly.

Will take care of you, Rose. Venom reassured, his thumbs rubbing my waist. He continued to tease my clit, keeping me sensitive and relaxed.

Eddie gasped, slowly recovering. “Rose-“

I kissed him. “I love you, Eddie. So much,” I murmured.

Venom let his hands go, and he immediately grabbed onto me. “Marry me,” Eddie blurted, kissing me fiercely. “Marry us, Rose.”

I gaped at him. “Wh-what?”

“Marry us. We want to have kids with you, want to stay with you forever. I love you, so much.” He searched my eyes.

I smiled brightly. “Yes! Yes, I will. I love you so much, Eddie.” I kissed him, then smiled at Venom. “And I love you so much, Venom.”

Venom kissed me, his tongue slipping into my mouth. Then he twitched my hips over Eddie. My turn?

Eddie nodded. Venom built on top of Eddie’s length inside me, making me moan as I stretched even further. All the semen inside me seemed to swirl, making me sigh in satisfaction. Something about Venom’s pure size, how much bigger he was than me, always made me feel so safe and satisfied.

“Are you okay, Rose?” Eddie’s eyebrows furrowed, and he cradled my waist in his hands.

I smiled. “Yes, I’m fine. Ven- Ah!- feels so good.” I bit my lip.

Eddie, want to see Rose cum? See her filled with us? Get her... pregnant?

Eddie’s breath hissed between his teeth. His hands gently slid up, then cupped my breasts. His fingers nudged my nipples a little, his hands calloused but gentle.

“Yes,” he rasped.

I let Venom completely manhandle me, grinding my hips against Eddie’s as he twitched inside me. I whimpered. Eddie gently kissed me, his lips sliding against mine with a tenderness that didn’t match the way Venom rutted their hips into me. Each thrust kept making more semen trickle out of me, yet pushing it further into my womb.

I felt so full and satisfied, heat lighting all of my nerves. I half-sobbed, feeling myself creep closer to the edge again. “Venom, Eddie,” I cried, beginning to tremble.

Love our Rose. Venom purred, his tongue beginning to curl around my shoulder.

“We love you, Rose,” Eddie murmured, kissing my neck.

I felt everything inside of me clench as I came, gasping for breath. But Venom kept thrusting up into me, kept bringing my hips down to meet him. I sobbed around the pleasure, whining Venom’s name as I came. He growled and spilled into me one last time, making everything overflow in a messy puddle.

I sank against Eddie’s chest, feeling Venom retract to leave Eddie inside me. I tried to just breathe, coming down from my high. Eddie pressed kisses down my neck, holding me to him gently. Venom purred lowly, switching so he wrapped around both of us.

I leaned up and kissed Eddie softly, feeling his thumbs rub circles into my waist. Venom cuddled us both, bubbling contentedly over our skin. I giggled slightly as he traced patterns over my stomach.

Rose going to have a little one?

“I hope so, Ven,” I answered softly, running my hand down his matter.

Eddie turned us over onto our sides, curling around me. His hand splayed over my stomach, still buried inside me. “I can’t believe you... you want this,” he said wonderingly.

I smiled, cupping his cheek. “I’ve always wanted kids, I just didn’t know if I’d ever find the right person,” I confessed. “But you and Ven...”

He kissed me gently. “Thank you, Rose. I promise we’ll protect you, take care of you.”

I nuzzled into his neck. “I’m so happy I’ll get to be Rosemary Brock,” I said shyly.

“Sorry, Rose. I didn’t really mean to propose like this. I have a ring and everything, I just...”

I shook my head. “It’s okay, Eddie.” I smiled. “I’m so happy that I’ll get to marry you and Ven. I was a little scared,” I said, looking down at his chest. “I mean, I know that you care for me, but I... I didn’t want to lose either of you.”

“Never,” Eddie promised. “I love you with everything I have. I know I’m not the best man out there, Rose, and you’re... you’re too good for me. But I want to take care of you and have kids with you and Ven.”

“That’s all I want,” I whispered.

Venom nuzzled my shoulder. Ours, Rose. Always together.

“Always, Ven,” I promised back. “I love you. I’m yours, Venom.”

[hotwings0203]

Gilded Cage

A/N: It’s embarrassing how long this took but oh well, happy new year to everyone and I hope you enjoy scummy yandere hawks!

Warnings: dubcon, kidnapping, abuse, toxic relationships, degradation, yandere themes

************

At first she welcomed the bright flashing lights like a breath of fresh air, but in due time it made her throat close up like the rest of the situation.

He had agreed to let her out if she behaved, and that meant no biting, scratching, screaming, flinching, temper tantrums, and worst of all, no silent treatment.

And she would take it like a champ if it meant seeing any other person in 6 months.

He had kept her here like a flightless bird in this cage of theirs, and oh how ironic it was that she was succumbed to be the prey of this ruthless hawk, with him able to soar amongst the people and buildings while Y/n stayed perched in the house, her ever-growing wings mentally becoming too much for her to control and stay silent about.

She needed space, she wanted to leave, but she didn’t dare voicing any of her wants, especially when Keigo made it so clear how her meager wants were of no match for his needs.

And his needs, as he’s made so clear thus far, include her being a pliant, quiet, yet loving little birdie who cooks, cleans, and lays with him day and night without complaint.

God forbid she speaks up about her...living conditions, as he liked to so generously supply to her the first and last time she ever had this conversation with him. She tried telling him how she originally had loved their relationship of a couple of months, and sure it might have been weird for him to push her into moving in with him only after 3 months, but it was because of how much he loved her or so he said at least, when he bashed her head repeatedly on the ground when she told him it “wasn’t normal to rush into things so fast”.

Sure, he had a big spacious penthouse lent to him by the Hero Commission so being physically cramped was never a problem, and yes okay he showered her with gifts and little trinkets, just like birds did with their mates even more so after a big fight that usually left her black and blue, with swollen lips, ripped up knees and big red welts on her wrists while the hero himself was left with not even a feather out of place.

But there were days where their movie nights and cuddling sessions didn’t cut it for her anymore. There were nights when she couldn’t take his suffocating arms around her a second longer, only to be replaced by an even heavier and darker presence when she tried turning on her side away from him.

Sometimes it would be a chain reaction caused by the smallest of catalysts, however. It would be on a day where he left the restraints on a little too tightly, and Y/n was forced to use toothpaste on her wrists instead of the salve Keigo always kept in the medicine closet. Other times it would happen when he would keep feeling up her sides and pressing into her after a long day of her cooking in hopes that the plentiful food would be enough to keep him occupied away from her, even if it was for an hour or two.

It never was, though. He always wanted her, whether it was her scent, her presence, or her clothes that he kept in his pockets on his missions.

On those days, the days where she felt too much Keigo, too many feathers and too much Hawks was when she snapped.

Down would go the plates, the expensive wine glasses, the vases filled with flowers sent by hundreds of fangirls who knew nothing about the monster that he actually was. She’d tear out her mussed hair, red-faced with tears that ruined her makeup the makeup that she liked to wear on these types of days just to piss him off, knowing that he thought “excess makeup is for whores and catfishes. I already know you’re a whore, well, my whore, but you’re not even good enough at applying makeup to be deemed a catfish so don’t even try it hummingbird” while screaming in his face to let go, for the love of god Hawks PLEASE let me go I want to go home I don’t want this anymore I don’t want YOU anymore this isn’t working out I don’t love you-

And crack would be the sound of his palm across her face, knocking her to the floor. On these types of days he wouldn’t even think she deserved a change in facial expression, staring down at her pathetic trembling body while his lips were set in a subtle casual smile, his hands stuffed in his pockets as if he never raised an arm a second ago, and his eyes remained golden and neutral, the only indication of him processing her tantrum was the black glint in his pupils that dilated every time she gasped and sobbed on the floor.

To ensure that his precious, oh-so fragile lovebird wouldn’t hurt herself any further with her stupidity, he’d crouch down inches away from her face and cock his head slightly as a real bird would do. He’d reach out and lift her chin to face him while his other hand would snake up her thigh to try and console her which only succeeded in making her shake and breath unevenly.

Leaning forward to ghost his lips over the shell of her ear, he’d relish in the way her mouth would part in terror as he would lovingly whisper every threat of what he’d do to her the next time she wanted to be like a brat, because god help her if she thought he couldn’t tame a brat after dealing with a lifetime of villains.

It was almost laughable, how easy she was to silence. He didn’t even need to use feathers to pull her to her feet when he would tell her to go to the bed and get on all fours like the bitch she was.

She had to earn her way back into being his good, obedient little dove, on days like these.

But after these days would pass and she would indeed realign with his expectations, he would reward her greatly.

Never like this, though.

Y/n is brought to the present again as another flash of light from the paparazzi snaps her out of her daze. As the spots begin to fade from her vision, she sees Keigo in front of her adorning his trademark “for the fans-only” grin, although Y/n would call it a sleazy smile, the same smile he would give her before he signaled his feathers to cut deep into her feet so she’d stop kicking at him as he dragged her on the floor and feels him squeeze her hand a little too tightly to be dubbed as endearing.

“Stop zoning out on me, you look like a ditz”, he hisses through his teeth, his grin now resembling more of a bared-teeth look.

She tries to try to fix her face and pull the corners of her mouth up, attempting to also brighten her eyes and looking interested at the blond interviewer who was now conversing with Hawks about his recent team-up with Endeavor. It takes every ounce of self-restraint to not shove past the phony smiles and flashy attire enveloping her and waltz down the red carpet to the doors of the gala. She thinks if she hears him utter another word about how he’s so incredibly blessed to have the love and support of my fans, family, and most importantly, my girlfriend who has stuck by my side through thick and thin, she’ll puke on the bedazzled yellow dress the interviewer has on.

As if. He’d probably whisk her off to the nearest bathroom and pummel her on the floor right then and there just for being distracted, but not before fucking her as well.

She feels Hawks nudge her side, and on cue she darts her head up and really plasters on a blinding smile as she focuses on the question that was just asked to her.

“Sorry, what was that? I think I got distracted by your outfit, you look lovely tonight, an absolute catch.” She winks for good measure, just to salvage the damage of ignoring the conversation and Keigo’s tight-lipped smile, which was beginning to soften.

Bingo.

“Oh you’re so sweet! I can see why Mr. Number Two here swooped in to take such a cutie like yourself.” The interviewer giggled, twirling a golden lock around her finger. “But no worries, I was just saying you should come make a public appearance more often! I mean, the media barely gets to see you with Hawks intimately, it would be a great excuse to get all glammed-up as well...I mean, if Hawks here hasn’t got his talons sunk too deep into you.” She laughs shrilly and doesn’t notice how both Y/n and Keigo tense up at her insinuation.

Yeah lady, you’re not too far from the truth. The last time I tried to look nice and go outside, I was bedridden for a week and a half while nursing frozen peas over 7 different parts of my body, inside and out.

But if Keigo can bullshit more than he can tell the truth, then so could she.

She laughs warmly and places her hand on his shoulder lightly, just to sell the “supportive girlfriend” look.

“Well, I really would love to come out and show my support for him more often, but we’ve both agreed that with all the publicity anyways, it’s just too much pressure for me to deal with. I’d rather just stick with what I know and keep it hush between him and I.” She turns her gaze to Keigo now, superficially giving him a puppy-in-love look but discreetly seeking his approval if what she said was the correct thing or not.

He merely gave her an amused smile, as if to say damn, wasn’t expecting that answer but I guess it’s fine. Yeah. Two can play at that game.

Pleased with her answer, the blond bimbo turns on her heel and sashays away, leaving the couple by themselves.

Keigo gives Y/n a side eye and cautiously holds out his elbow for her to take. A peace offering for the meantime, just to reward her for the quick save.

Don’t fuck this up for me, or you’ll regret it tenfold when we get back home.

“Shall we?” He waits for her to oblige, and of course she does.

Arm-in arm, they gracefully walk down the red carpet towards the gold plated doors. Upon entering, Y/n’s breath is taken away at the grand hall, with red banners hanging from the balconies that had navy blue and gold words of praise for the heroes engraved in the silk. Hundreds of pro heroes filled the room, much more than what she was used to from only interacting with her captor for months.

Guiding her over to the long granite bar, Keigo squeezes her arm before lightly dropping it. Before she can move, he stands directly in front of her and his vermillion wings unfurl and slightly surround the two of them, creating their own little space. To others, it might’ve just looked like two lovers embracing each other and having their own little moment. Y/N knew better, however, and suspected he had ulterior motives.

She was right.

“I’m gonna leave you here for a few minutes, ‘kay? I don’t want you moving from here,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, and she had to suppress a shudder at his unwanted proximity. “The feather stays on, and I better not see or hear anything funny while I’m away.”

She nodded and touched her necklace that was indeed laced with one of his feathers, remembering the deal he made when he agreed to let you out for the day.

Ah yes, the dreaded feather.

When she had approached him on shaking legs two days prior, Hawks was brushing his hair in the bathroom, keen on meticulously keeping it styled and ruffed up in the morning. It was one of the things that Y/N would begrudgingly say was one of his finest features, along with his natural eyeliner-shaped markings and rugged yet handsome facial features.

On good days, she liked to lightly trace her fingers and across his sharp jawline and feel the stubble growing on his blushed face. She’d try to stop immediately however, when he’d open his eyes and catch her hand, moving it across his body much to her chagrin and down to his-

She had stood outside the door, fumbling with the hem of her thin nightie and desperately trying to pull the short material past her bare thighs as she mustered up the courage to bring up her proposition.

Keigo slowly ceased his brushing when he saw the meek little thing quivering outside his door, and he quirked up an amused eyebrow. He braced both arms on either side of the sink, and let out a light exhale, before addressing her.

“Something wrong hummingbird?”

She dragged her eyes from the floor up to his dilated golden irises, and blurted out what she had been rehearsing in her head for the past couple of days:

“DoyouthinkIcouldcomewithyoutothegala?”

“Huh?” he snickered, thoroughly bewildered by what incomprehensible nonsense she had stuttered out.

Y/N bit her lip and took in a shaky breath, strike one, she fumbled her first try.

“Haw- uh, Keigo,” she corrected quickly. He preferred her using his first name, his real name. He claimed it made things more intimate between them as if carving his name on her back hadn't been enough to seal their “intimacy’-she didn’t need to be told twice what to call him by after that day “I was wondering...if I’m good and I don’t give you a hard time, can I come with you to the hero's gala?”

Keigo’s brow furrowed slightly, and he cocked his head to the side like a real bird. He seemed to be contemplating it.

“Alright,” he conceded after a couple seconds. “If, and I mean if you listen to me and don’t try any funny business while we’re there I’ll let you tag along.”

Y/N darted her eyes up to him, hope swimming in her heart.

“But you have to wear the feather.”

She immediately blanched.

A major inconvenience that she had come to terms with in the duration of her stay with him had been his stupid fucking feathers that layed oh-so-casually around the floor where she walked and coincidentally clinging to her clothes wherever she went out of Keigo’s eyesight, even though she was trapped on the same floor with him.

They had special properties; they could detect any movement, sense any vibration whenever he called for it. This made for a perfect tracker for Y/N in terms of whenever he wanted an update on her heartbeat, her mood, her whereabouts, and anything in between.

Yes, it was suffocating. But she would much rather it only be a suffocating feeling rather than him actually directing hundreds of feathers to surround her and hold her down on the bed or floor to do whatever he wanted with her in any position he pleased.

She didn’t dare complain to his face, however. She’d grit her teeth, grin and bear it, listen to every whim he demanded of her if it meant one night of superficial normalcy.

And so she put on her best behavior on the days leading up to the main event. She made dozens of dishes that circulated around chicken (his favorite binge food), she let them have “cuddle time”, with no complaints whatsoever when he insisted on bathing her and dressing her up in stupid pink frilly skirts, and she even gave him little subtle looks with a batting of her eyelashes when he looked down fondly at her good mannerisms and praised her for being such a sweet little birdie.

Eventually, her acting paid off and on the morning of the gala she was merited with a silk red dress that stopped at her upper thigh, ornamented with gold earrings and a 12K necklace to really sell off the look-which was of course wrapped around one of his feathers. Hawks had even hired a makeup artist who was instructed to not ask or say anything to Y/N save for questions about the products, much to her pleasant surprise.

She was still reminded of how much she had to grovel for him every time he rewarded her that afternoon.

“You look stunning, chickadee,” Keigo leaned against the dresser with his arms crossed, and smiled warmly at Y/N. “You’re making her look like a real model, maybe she should take over my job instead. Or, actually, maybe you could stop by my agency and make me all pretty for my next photoshoot.” He directed this last tease at the makeup artist and winked, causing the oblivious employee to giggle and blush.

Ugh, barf. He’s even a sleaze when I’m right here.

Y/N feigned a roll of her eyes, which didn’t go unnoticed by the hero. She could feel his dilated eyes boring into her the rest of the 15 minutes of touch-ups. Eventually everything was done, and Hawks left praise after shameless praise fall from his lips and onto the poor fangirl’s heart as he guided her out the door, a hand on her lower back as he did so.

She took the opportunity to get up and walk to the full-length mirror, admiring how she looked for the first time in ages. Gone were the multi-colored marks that decorated her body as if she were nothing more than a mere canvas for her painter to use. Her eyes seemed a little brighter too, and it wasn’t just the makeup that caused it. She stood a little straighter and squared her shoulders, her chin tilted up more than before while she stared at her reflection. She didn’t recognize the woman in the mirror, and she liked it for once.

It was ridiculous, she knew it was to feel so vain but she couldn’t help but bask in her potential freedom for just one night. She looked gorgeous, she felt confident, and she had earned it all on her own.

Cocking her head to the side, she tried to practice a couple smiles to be camera-ready for when the time came. She turned the corners of her lips up, then showed her teeth, and even tried fluffing her hair up sensually. Biting her lip slightly, she threw her head back, causing her curled locks to bounce and lowered her eyelids to look sexy. She giggled at her own stupidity and poses, completely unaware that a certain winged-man had entered the room and leaned against the door for the past couple of minutes, simply watching the little show she put on.

“That's quite a look you’ve got there hun, why don’t you make those faces more often with me?”

She immediately froze, her breath hitching. She didn’t dare look at him in the eye from the mirror.

“I mean, I’m the only one who should be seeing such a slutty expression anyways, right?” He said ever-so casually, hands in his pockets as he slowly strolled up behind her, and she couldn’t help but think as her eyes darted up to meet him in the mirror that the sadistic shit-eating grin on his face didn’t suit so well with his god-like features.

She visibly wilted, her shoulders hunched and head down in contrast to the tall, powerful woman she had felt like mere seconds ago. Her breath quickened as he leaned over her shoulder, grazing his teeth over the sensitive part under her ear, and she bit her lip harshly to stop the squeak that threatened to escape her trembling lips.

“If I had known that a pretty dress and some makeup would make you act like a wanton little whore, I would’ve done this wayyy sooner. I guess you really are just another dumb bimbo bitch who does anything she’s told if she gets to feel important for a night.” He whispered in her ear, resting his head on her shoulder and looking up at her with innocent eyes, ones that imitated the mocking tone of voice he used.

It seemed like he wanted her to feel disgusting, to wilt under his cruel words that he used like knives-knives that were sharpened with his tone and body language, knives that were so intimately and carefully chosen. They worded so that they were used to their full extent to cut and carve through her heart.

“Is that what you are my little songbird, hmm? You wanna be a pretty baby and have everyone’s attention on you? I’m hurt, here I was thinking I was enough for you.” He pouted, and with every word he spoke the grip his hands had around her waist tightened.

She tried to protest but he plowed through her pitiful attempts.

“Hell, if you want some attention so bad and whore yourself out, I should call over some friends! Yeah, we can skip tonight’s gala, would you like that songbird? For me to share you with my friends so they can satiate your whorish needs?” And at his he shook her lightly, his grip around her middle choking her and cutting off her circulation. “N-no, Hawks,” she wheezed out. “I just... liked my makeup, that’s it. I only want you, I promise. I won’t cause any trouble tonight, please don’t call any friends over.”

She looked up at him in the mirror with eyes the size of saucers, blinking away tears and trying her best to show how apologetic she was at her audacity to feel good about herself.

He loosened his arms and straightened up, peering down at her disgustedly. He had absolutely no regrets about the way she sucked in air immediately when he relented, or about the way she frantically brushed the tears from her eyes, trying to preserve her mascara from running. (not that he would’ve minded). She needed to learn her lesson; he controlled her highs and lows. Only he had the permission of holding her fragile emotions in the palm of his hand, and if she didn't want that palm turning into a fist and breaking her, she would do well not to piss him off and treading carefully about flaunting what was meant for his eyes only.

She wanted to lock herself in the bathroom and cry out to her heart's content from being embarrassed and degraded like this. She kept absolutely still however, when she felt his hands lightly tracing the feather on her collarbones. It was an unspoken threat, and when their eyes met once again in the mirror, the way he sized her up confirmed it.

The feather stayed on.

Which brought her back to the present.

Y/N had already downed 3 glasses of champagne while reminiscing about earlier today, something Hawks would’ve surely tutted at. Finding herself bored, she meandered around the bar, keeping close to where he left her.

She scanned the room for her ‘lover’ and found him laughing with a group of his friends, his head thrown back and the charming sound of his deep yet lilted voice carrying through the hall, entrapping anyone who was around.

He certainly had presence, no sense in denying it.

Any girl would’ve been crazy to deny him, and Y/N wished that Hawks had fallen for a girl that didn’t want to deny him out of his hundreds of fangirls a point that was set in stone in Y/N’s mind when she saw a tall brunette clinging to his arm while she shrieked with laughter at whatever stupid story Hawks was telling.

Said fangirl seemed to also have been put under his contagious spell, from the way she so obviously threw herself on his arm and pushed her chest against his side under the pretense of shaking with laughter. Various other parts of her body seemed to be shaking against him too, but he didn’t seem to mind based on the smirk he quickly looked down at her with.

For the second time that night, Y/N wanted to throw up.

Was it jealousy? Negative. Rather, it was frustration that he literally had girls throwing themselves at him, tits hanging out and all but yet he wanted what he knew he couldn’t have. She assumed that it was this mentality of his that landed him at being Number 2, chasing after the seemingly impossible until it was tangible.

It was easier on some days to try to understand his point of view. It was much better than getting lost in the hours pondering what kind of bad karma she inherited from a past life to go through this hell. But on some mornings when she felt stone-cold sober, she remembered that she was a person, not some objective or conquest that he had rightfully won. Deciding to try and take her mind off from the trainwreck that was unfolding in front of her, Y/N aimlessly wandered to the side of the bar and down a grand hallway that was less crowded and had less Hawks.

On either side of the hall, giant bronze frames held the portraits of past heroes and had little scriptures of their accomplishments. Hawks had always talked about how he wanted his name up there, and how one day he was going to do something incredible to have his own face up on the hall of fame. His idol, Endeavor, already has taken place on the wall right next to All Might’s frame, and Y/N looks up and ponders at both of their pictures.

And how befitting is it, that Hawk’s idol is also accused of a sinister and tumultuous family past.

Maybe he doesn’t need to work too hard to follow in the footsteps of the number one hero.

“Quite the hero, Endeavor is. Even though there is controversy about the nature of his past and his redemption efforts, he set many precedents as to how a true hero should act.” Y/N’s head snaps to the right where Edgeshot had just joined her. He wore a navy blue tux with red seams, his trademark mask covering the lower half of his face.

“Yeah, you’d think his admirers would try to follow in the footsteps of changing themselves too,” she muttered bitterly. “I’ve noticed his biggest fans seem to take after his more...old brutish traits rather than the better person he’s trying to be now.”

The masked hero laughed softly, and Y/N looked at him suspiciously.

“What, you don’t think heroes have their own fair share of flaws?” She challenged.

“No no, don’t get me wrong of course. I would be on an inappropriate level of naivety to assume that, considering I’m a part of the whole corrupt system itself. I think, however, that change within a person comes after an extended time of self-reflection. You have to look within yourself and accept that you were wrong in the first place, if you want to change.”

Y/N was quiet for a moment.

“Do you think the villains are ever right? About society brushing the flipside of heroism under the carpet, I mean. It doesn’t matter if the heroes are trying to save people because it's expected of them, if they aren’t actually compassionate about their cause then is there really a point?” She asked desperately, hoping he could understand her.

Edgeshot hesitated for a moment before answering.

“In my years of experience,” he said quietly, still looking up at Endeavor’s painting, “the ones who have at heart a solid reason for acting the way they do are most always justified. It may not always be a good reason, but a foundation always gives way to a justification that can be argued for.”

All of a sudden, Y/N gasped as white hot pain sliced through her sternum. She looked down and saw the red feather on her necklace quivering as a fine line of red sprouted from the cut it made.

“Are you alright?” Edgeshot asked, looking fairly alarmed, his hand reaching for her shoulder.

“Yes, of course! My necklace is just a little sharp, a little edge just nicked me that's all.” She said shrilly, already backing away from the concerned hero. Turning on her heel, she picked up the hem of her dress and tottered out of the hall, not paying any mind to the vermillion plumage that drifted down her chest, past her waist and eventually clinging onto her leg, making little nips and stabs here and there.

Blood was pounding through her head as she navigated the way back to where Hawks had left her to be. Her palms were sweaty and she was sure her hair was becoming messy as she whipped her head around, attempting to look past tall heads and bodies that blocked her way to the bar.

Shitshitshitshit god please don’t let him be there already please please please-

But it seemed as though god wasn’t in a merciful mood, because lo and behold, the raptor was leaning against the long granite island with a glass in his hand.

He seemed to be casually grinning, swirling a maroon substance in his cup and choking it down leisurely, but as Y/N drew closer she knew-as expected- he seemed off.

The smell of alcohol was nauseating around him, he must have been drinking something strong. His wings, although lightly flapping behind him, were pointed at the edges and shaking lightly. His eyes were completely dilated, and were shifting around the room until they settled on her meek figure rushing up to him.

“Hey there birdy, long time no see. Did you have a good chat with Edgeshot? I’m sure you both enjoyed talking shit about me behind my back.” Y/N winced at how charismatic and booming his laugh was after his ominous remark. It was too carefree, a complete cover-up of how she knew he was actually feeling, and that scared her the most.

“Hawks I-”

“Keigo, sweetheart, did you forget my name already after talking with just one person? Damn, I’m hurt, guess keeping you locked up at home was the right decision after all if you’re acting like such a stone-cold bitch now.”

She stared up at him, openmouthed and thoroughly panicked now. He was talking too much, he was going to expose himself and her-

Wait. Why is she covering for him? Wouldn’t it be better if he blabbed everything else so people could realize what he’s doing? Maybe someone would intervene and save her!

But it seemed like he was three steps ahead of her and had already figured that out, because his face flushed slightly and his eyes darkened and narrowed, with lips set in a flat line. When Y/N saw this change, she tried to back away but he quickly grabbed her hand and yanked her out the room and through the exit doors. It was all happening so fast, she could hear various people call out to Hawks but he plowed through them so fast that she didn’t have time to even process that they were out of the building and in the air.

She screamed as he soared to an even higher altitude, clinging onto his neck for dear life. The wind whipped past her face, stinging her cheeks with the frigid cold and water particles that embedded on her lashes. Hawks was laughing hysterically the entire time he gained height, his talons ripping through her dress and piercing her skin, even overlapping the previous cuts his feather had made earlier.

“S-stop, what’re you doing, are you fucking crazy?” She shrieked, her words losing volume as the air was ripped out of her lungs.

“KEIGO, its KEIGO you stupid fucking cunt!” he screamed in her face. His arms loosened around her waist, and suddenly Y/N was falling, falling, falling straight for the asphalt.

She couldn’t even turn her head as her limp body plummeted down for imminent death. Her lungs begged for oxygen, fear settling like lead in her stomach, but the second she closed her eyes for what she thought was the last time, (Hawks) Keigo swooped down and yanked her back into his sinister embrace by her hair.

Ignoring the ripping strands she felt in her skull, she flailed around in midair trying to grab onto something-she reached up to grab his foot but he noticed and kicked her square in the face. Y/N had never before felt such terror and pain, mentally or physically.

Damn her pride, she wants to live for god's sake.

“Keigo,” she sobbed, remembering just in time to use his real name lest he smash her teeth in again, “please put me down, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I talked to Edgeshot but I swear it wasn’t anything bad or about you.” The warm blood streaming down her nose began to harden on her upper lip from the chilly altitude they had reached.

Abruptly, he shifted his grip and pulled her up by her hair (she winced at that painful adjustment) so that he could hold her around her waist now.

They had to have been at least 200 or so feet in the air. The pair had cleared their way through some clouds and could clearly see the full moon right in front of them. It was deathly quiet except for Y/N’s labored breathing through her fractured nose, and her fear racked even further as she looked up at Hawks and realized that he was simply staring down at her with completely dilated eyes that narrowed and gleamed at her expression. He truly looked like a bird of prey right now, a predator that was forcing her to play the part of his prey, a point that solidified when he suddenly wrapped one hand around her throat to feel her heartbeat that thumped like a rabbits’.

The light from the moon reflected off his back, causing his front to be completely shadowed so that the contours of his sharp face seemed ever more looming and dangerous. Both of them stayed suspended in the air for a minute or two like that, Y/N not daring to speak unless he granted her a sign to repent.

After a long, painstakingly suspenseful minute of studying her face, he finally growled “We’re going home.”

It seemed to take only a mere couple of minutes for the Number Two hero to travel halfway across the city. Y/N barely had time to try and drink in the beautiful colors that accented the winding streets and buildings below her, knowing that it would most probably be a long time before she saw anything else that resembled freedom again.

He finally began to descend rapidly, forcing her to cling onto his jacket and shove her face into the crook of his neck to avoid getting whiplash. Peeking through her lashes, she recognized the balcony floor of his penthouse rushing underneath their feet. Dread and anxiety surged through her veins as he finally landed and postiviley threw her off of him and onto the wooden floor. She slid a good couple of feet and skinned her legs in the process, unable to stop her momentum as she slammed back into a lamp.

Dazed, she saw stars as she rubbed her aching head. Unfortunately she didn’t see him, rushing over to her the second she landed.

He grabbed her jaw tight and wrenched her bleary eyes to look up at him.

What he saw was beautiful.

A trembling mess beneath him, makeup runny and complemented with blood that flowed from her nose like an eternal stream. He couldn’t keep his eyes off the way she kept flinching any time he shifted; it made his pants tighten and caused his teeth to grit in what he measured to be the absolute last bits of self restraint he had for the night. He had truly ruined her, and he internally patted himself on the back at his work.

Was he mad? Yes, wholly and completely at her betrayal of his orders.

Did he regret losing his temper? Absolutely not. In fact, if you ask him, he should get mad at her more often like this. If it merited her pliant and vulnerable being, then who was he to deny such pleasure? Fuck he should’ve done this from the start- blowing up at mild disobediance instead of acting like a doting, patient boyfriend.

“You alive?” he roughly shook her head and her teeth chattered inside her skull while he did so.

“Yes,” she whispered, mouth popped open by his gloved fingers as he shoved a digit inside her warm and wet cavern. It was embarrassing how drool seeped through her lips and dribbled down her chin, but humility was the least concerning factor in her environment at the moment.

“Good. After acting like such a tramp you better fucking be. I told you one thing,” and he slapped her for added emphasis to his frustration, “can you repeat what I told you? Or are you so braindead that you can’t remember the one order I gave you when I trusted you to sit still and look pretty like a good little bitch?”

“Nnngh, no I rem-I remember.” Y/N panted out, attempting to talk through puckered lips and drool. “You told me to stay at the bar and not to move.”

“Exactly. So what part of that was so hard to understand, huh?” He hissed through his teeth, looking deranged.

“I just got bored, that’s all. I wanted to talk to another person…” Even though she didn’t finish her sentence, Hawks understood her perfectly.

I wanted to talk to another person apart from you.

He let out a mocking laugh, stretching his arms over his head to hide his shaking fists. Rage swept through his body like wildfire, licking up his throat and cheeks. His face was flushed and unreadable to Y/N as he sauntered around the couch and plopped down on it, spreading his legs to seem as uncouth as possible.

She sat shivering on the floor, unsure of if he wanted her to follow him or wither away on the floor like a mutt.

As he sighed loudly however, her body immediately tensed as though bracing for another painful impact. She daringly peeked over her shoulder and saw the back of his head protruding from the black and red leather couch. Lazily flicking his wrist up to a height where she could see, he vaguely beckoned her over without saying a word.

Immediately she scampered over to him and situated herself at his feet (where she belonged). Her eyes were downcast, and he begrudgingly accepted it as a form of submission on her part. No sense in beating the disobedience out of her now if she already knows what she did wrong.

Hawks heaved out another heavy sigh and let his head fall backwards. On one hand, he was slightly drunk and his head was killing him-he just wanted to go to sleep and forget today ever happened. However, there was a problem that was contributing to his growing migraine, and that problem was sitting right in front of him, practically kneeling at his feet for mercy. More than sleep, he wanted to take care of said issue and call it a night, so he decided to skip the sweet talk and warm up.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen, kid. I’m gonna close my eyes and by the time I open them you better have already thought of a way to make tonight up to me, and you better have already put that plan in action. Then, we’re going to bed and when you wake up you’ll regret the day you even thought of talking to anyone apart from me, since you seem to have forgotten who’s been coddling your ass all this time.” He sneered, relishing at the way Y/N’s face went pale.

True to his word, he closed his eyes, glad to see his last view as the pathetic bitch who was about to service him. The feel of slight fumbling on his zipper made him feel even more drunk and giddy as it was pulled down. Maybe the entire evening wasn’t a complete wash after all.

Yeah, he should take her out a lot more.

[mxvladdy]

What do you think would happen if MC (in an attempt to keep it away from him) tucked Goldie under their boob?

[A bra is the best wallet but underneath even a C-cup boob is damn near Fort Knox (or the tower of London, I.e. Impenatrable fortresses)]

lmaooo. Let’s us gather round and pray for Mammon’s remaining sanity. What little remands. The himbo never saw it coming. I’m weak and got a little spicy at the end, apologies if that’s not what you wanted my heart was thirsty for ONE greed man;.;

  A/N I originally called this work Tiity prison bc I have a sense of humor lol.

Hope ya like!

To say he is conflicted is an understatement. Depending on when and where you do the titty lockdown will change how he reacts.

If it's at school, he is a mess. I’m talking about the works. He’s red in the face, can’t focus, and sweating the whole rest of the school day. He is definitely torn between fighting his goldie withdrawals and making a pass at your chest.

He won’t do the latter, as much as he threatens it. He may be scummy but he has a code of conduct (most of the time). You get a kick out of watching him try not to stare at your chest and getting smacked by Lucifer when caught.

If it’s on Lucifer’s orders to keep his card away from him he’ll have a bit more control but will bitch the WHOLE day. Honestly, you might give it back just to shut him up.

He won’t outright grab your chest or physically try to snatch it. He’ll try to be sneaky about it. Dropping stuff and making you bend over to grab it. “I swear I ain’t try nothin’”. Right.

If desperate enough he’ll just downright pick you up off your feet and jiggle you like a piggy bank. Like I said, he has a code of conduct. It’s just kinda flexible sometimes.

“C-come on! Give ‘er back.” Mammon pleads, pulling off his classic bagger’s pout. Good thing you were immune. His toned arms cage you in, your back resting on one of the school’s marble walls. “How am I going to buy lunch?”

“I made you lunch.” You laugh. Ducking under his arms you make your way to the dining hall ignoring his flustered shouts. He’ll follow soon enough. The promise of your cooking and potentially nabbing goldie back was too great for him to ignore. Sure enough, he slinks in a few minutes after you. His shades now out and perched on his nose. Even hidden under the tinted glasses, you could see his flushed cheeks and darting eyes. “Better eat now, Beel is going to join us today.” You say around a mouthful of food. He whines but forces himself to focus on his quickly cooling food.

He follows you even closer than before after lunch, barely a hair’s breadth from your back. His clever fingers pinching and pulling at the bottom of your shirt in the crowded hallway. “Please~” He whimpers through his teeth after your swat his hands away again. “I swear I won’t use her.”

You plop down at your desk. “If you’re not going to use her, then she is safe where she is.” You stick your tongue out and give the boob hiding goldie a lovely squeeze. Mammon groans as if stabbed, teeth bared and fangs growing in a mix of frustration and want. “Babe come on. Ya’ killing me.” His eyes are glued to where your hand rests.

Before you can respond a leather-clad hand smacks Mammon across the back of his head. Mammon yips in fright. “I will kill you first if you don’t keep your eyes up at the board.” The cold warning from Lucifer was enough to shut you both up for the rest of the class. You watch him disappear when the bell chimes. His next period was across campus while you were stuck here for another hour. Your phone buzzes the moment his designer boots disappear out the door.

Pretty Boy: what did you do to Mammon?

You: I have no idea what you’re talking about.

You catch Asmo’s eye from his seat a few rows back from you. He winks at you, thumbs flying across his lit screen.

Pretty Boy: Bull- tell me your secrets. I haven’t seen him that flustered in eons, not since Helen paid a visit.

You: Got “asked” by Lucifer to keep Goldie away from Mammon for the day. A limited edition car he wants just got released. Luci is still paying off Mammon’s last shopping spree, so he’s on ice till tomorrow afternoon.

Pretty Boy: Ouch- you not telling him where it is?

You: Oh no. He knows exactly where it is. He is just too nervous to go for it.

You hear Asmo’s scandalous gasp behind you earning you both a glare from the professor. You bite your tongue to hide a chuckle. The professor turns with a huff, and Asmo starts up all over again.

Pretty Boy: Is it in your pants! Can I take a look ;*

You: No and No.

Pretty Boy: Ah- he was always a chest man. Good luck with that, he can hold out for only so long :)

What does that mean? You whip your head around waiting for an explanation text. Asmo has the gall to ignore you, busy reapplying his lip gloss. Even if he wasn’t looking at you, you knew that impish smile was for you. Turning back around in your seat you shiver, now you weren’t sure if you should be scared or excited.

The rest of the day passes quietly. Too quietly. It gives you the jitters. Every corner of the school could be a potential hiding spot for one conniving demon. You weren’t expecting him to attack you, not outright. Yet, you were expecting some sort of retaliation. The last bell of the day came sooner than you expected and it was time for afterschool activities. Packing your bag you wave off Beel and Satan, assuring them you would be fine to walk to the music and arts wing by yourself.  They had their own clubs to get to anyway.

Making your way to your activity you feel the hair on the back of your neck began to rise. Something wasn’t sitting right with you. You look up and around. No one was in the corridors, not even a stray teacher rushing to the breakroom. Odd. You peak over your shoulder and frown. Even the air was still. Chalking it up to a probably very haunted school, you pick up the pace. Even if you didn’t believe in the ghost stories like Luke, it was best to just never find out. No matter what hallway you took or how fast you walked the feeling of being watched only intensified. Your flight or fight instinct kicked in.

Who could you call if you need help? Where in the hells was Mam- was that your pencil case? You skid to a halt bemused. There, in the middle of the floor was your favorite case. The calico kitty design stares up at you innocently from the floor. You open your bag to double-check. You could have sworn you had thrown it in there after last period. Did it fall out? Had you taken this path before? You approached it cautiously, bending down to grab it.

Strong arms wrap around your waist locking around you like a spring trap. They lift you up and up and up. It was so sudden you could do nothing but squeak in surprise, pencil case clutched tightly to your chest. Were you really going to die here? Caught in such a childish trap...wait.  “Seriously Mammon!” The fear disappears, replaced now with exasperation. He grunts ignoring your words to shake you slightly. You yelp feeling goldie and your bra shift. “Oh, my Gods. Mammon! I know you can do better than this.”

“Shut up! I’m desperate.”

Unbelievable. "That's the best you got? Really, I’m kinda insulted." Mammon stops shaking you, his arms loosening enough for you to turn around to face him. He looks up at you batting his long lashes. “Put me down.” It wasn’t a pact order, but firm. He pouts but sets you back on the ground gently. Not before giving you a hearty squeeze. You catch his hand sneaking up the side of your shirt with a raised brow. "Why didn't you just make a grab for it in the first place?"

He scoffs turning pink. "'M allowed ta just cop a feel whenever I want now?"

"Absolutely not, not in public at least. I like you breathing."

“Could have fooled me,” Mammon chuckles. He glances around the empty hallway then back to you. A slow rolling purr starts deep in his throat. "Though, there is no one here now." Slowly his dexterous fingers glide back over your sides. His touch is searing on your shirt. You could feel goldie pulsing underneath the cotton of your bra. The plastic seemingly growing warmer than your skin as his hand travels closer. You do nothing, watching his face grow hungrier with each passing centimeter as he gets close to his prize. “What’s stopping me now?”

“Just you.” He stops at the side of your chest, eye wide and greedy. You could feel him trying to temper himself. His adrenaline, fear, lust, and his raw cardinal desire thicking the air around you. It all pulsed red hot in his veins and travels down to yours. He wanted more than just goldie now. His natural magnetism pulling you in closer. You wanted him, you wanted him to just take it- take everything. The pact mark slams shut, its heat snuffed out like a candle. "Mammon?" Had your teasing gone too far?

"Hold tight to her till tonight." He growls tapping your chest possessively. His many gold rings resemble talons as he drags his fingers across the stitching of your school uniform. "I'll come for her tonight," He leans in, smoke and leather clouds your sense. "and I'll be taking a tithe for all the trouble you caused me too." His husky promise sends a shiver down your spine, gut twisting in anticipation. Mammon's bright blue eyes jump over your shoulder, a frown grows on his beautiful face, he could hear footsteps approaching from your club room. Probably the angels looking for you. Brushing his lips across your cheek he parts, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Be ready. You know I always come to collect."