#was not nearly as into him as I shoulda been when I was younger

[britcision]

I have not slept more than 5 hours together this whole fucking week and not more than 7 hours a day

It is therefore appropriate today to give you TIM! And TUCKER! All aboard the Lore Drop!

Chapter 14’s nearly fucking done I swear I was waylaid but I think I have solved the problem. Now the new second secret much bigger problem is my intense desire to commit Dragon Age crimes

Soooo chapters will probably stay a lil slower here for a bit, but hopefully not this slow again until June, when I will be Busy As Shit

————-

A Good Excuse To Be A Bad Influence V

It was a weird feeling to have his body shaken while his consciousness was so far from it.

Feeling his face pull into a frown not quite mirroring what he felt it should be. Tucker could never have explained precisely what part of him entered his devices; just that it was him.

Quintessential, pure essence of Too Fine. Everything he was without the meat he was born in.

But then he did have to slot back into that meat, and trying to do that without matching positions always left him feeling weirdly off kilter the next day. Like he’d put on a shirt but the shoulders were skewed too short.

So despite not being conscious of a face on his extended form, Tucker tried to form it into a frown anyway, sliding back under his own skin like a teen sneaking back through a window after curfew.

Hadn’t those been heady days?

Eyes slowly opening, it took Tucker a moment to remember how to focus them. That they weren’t cameras. But then Tim Drake-Wayne came into focus, and the frown changed to a grin even before he fully “woke up”.

“Morning,” he mumbled, rolling and stretching, getting used to the feeling of a body again. It was a little weirder each time, which he might have worried about if he didn’t see himself as an extension of his PDA anyway.

“You were singing in your sleep,” Tim told him without preamble, returning the smile.

Tucker hesitated for a moment, suddenly embarrassed. If… well. If he’d been singing along, that…

Look he’d picked songs that’d embarrass Danny, he wasn’t gonna give a fuck about it. The only actual question was, did he tell Tim?

Who else would ever understand better just what it meant to interact with tech the way he could? Could get excited with him about how cool it was?

He wasn’t fucking gushing to Technus. No way. Tuck was easily the one winning that ongoing hackathon, but it was the principle of the thing.

To the zone with it. Tim knew about Amity Park, he knew about the ghosts and the liminal tech. And while they hadn’t exactly discussed liminal people, it’d come up.

Tim could have a sneak preview. As a treat.

Decision made, Tucker gave the younger man another broad smile because yeah, bragging about your super powers to a very cool and impressive person? That felt good.

Tim might be a vigilante too, but Tucker was pretty sure Jason was the only souped up Robin. Most of the bats were famously power free.

“Oh, yeah. I was bullying Danny,” he explained with a light chuckle, glancing up to find his beloved PDA, Ida. She was half under a blanket now, so he tugged her back out.

Tim chuckled softly, leaning back and stretching himself.

“Good dream?” He asked and Tucker snickered, stroking gently across the screen.

“Danny wishes it was a dream.” Tucker paused, frowning a little at the confusion on Tim’s face. “So you remember we kinda talked about the whole liminal thing?”

That seemed to jog Tim’s memory, confusion fading into an analytical frown that Tucker was already becoming familiar with. That good ol’ geek face.

“The humans with budding ghost powers,” he agreed, and Tucker had to wonder if maybe he just hadn’t put the right pieces together yet.

He hadn’t exactly said that most of Amity Park were liminal, but it was a little hard to remember he had to. Like, they lived on a portal to Hell.

Maybe he shoulda.

Well, at least it was a cool way to introduce it to him.

Tucker pulled Ida into his lap, flipped her over, and tapped the plain plastic backing to demonstrate.

“Mine’s a low level technopathy at the moment,” he explained as the PDA hummed and then began playing… well, still Montero, so he flicked it again and changed it immediately to Country Roads.

Tim was watching him with a kind of hungry fascination, and Tucker turned the music off with a thought, then passed her to Tim so he could check for secret touchpads.

“It’s not something I can do with anything,” he explained with a modest shrug, grinning with pride as Tim immediately got to scanning the casing.

All simple plastic, not even biometrics; what would be the point? Even touching the PDA was pretty much a formality at this point. She was a part of him.

“Technopathy? So you can control it with your mind? Why not with anything?” Tim asked eagerly, hands stroking over the plastic, eyes darting between it and Tucker.

Like he wasn’t sure which was more interesting, Tuck or tech, and Tucker absolutely took that as a compliment.

“It has to be a device I’ve really gotten into. Like, down to the source code, or something I’ve cracked before a couple times, and then I can just feel how all of it works.”

Tucker wiggled his fingers demonstratively and the PDA beeped to life under Tim’s hands, making the other man gasp. And yeah, totally envy in those cute blue eyes he turned all balefully on Tucker.

“How many of the functions can you use? Anything the PDA can do, or…” Tim trailed off, clearly thinking of everything he’d already seen the PDA do.

The real question would have been what couldn’t Ida do. And honestly? Yeah, Tucker remembered the trial phase.

He gave another shrug.

“Technically? Yeah, anything it can do, but I still prefer hacking the old fashioned way. Most of the network stuff too, cuz I’m only really “in” the PDA. Or Danny or Sam’s phones.”

Tucker hesitated, wondering how best to really explain the difference. Danny had never been any good at it, Tucker’d had no idea what he was talking about from the video game thing right up until he’d been sucked in himself.

Which… was probably gonna be a next-hangout adventure for Tim and the bats. And Oracle, if he could swing it.

For now he gave up, giving Tim a hopeless grin.

“Honestly it’s something you’ve really gotta feel for yourself. Danny’s great at the transition from real world to code, but he always just punches things, y’know? Turns out knowing how code is actually supposed to work doesn’t translate well to being part of it,” he added with a sigh.

Because frankly? It was bullshit unfair. Tucker could code an entire other galaxy around Danny with his eyes closed, but put them in the same metaphysical layer as a firewall and Danny could just.

Punch it.

Which, theme for the week, was also not how firewalls fucking worked. At some point Tuck figured he’d either gain a new level of understanding through liminality, or give up and ask Technus a couple questions.

Technus was currently Tucker’s subject instead of Danny’s anyway. They’d made a bet.

Which meant Technus shoulda told him about their shenanigans in time, which was probably what Tucker would hold over his head for the whole firewall thing.

It was so nice when things just worked themselves out.

Tim looked a little disappointed, but mostly still intrigued. Tucker could see his fingers just itching for his own tablet to take notes.

“Do you think that’ll change?” He asked, blurting it out like he couldn’t hold back now that Tucker stopped talking, “I mean, if you become more liminal? Or just practice your abilities more?”

And see, this was what Tucker loved about Tim Drake-Wayne. They were on the same wavelength. He grinned back.

“Probably. But I mean, it’s kinda cheating too. For now I kinda like that I have to do things the way I always used to first, before any ghostly powers kick in. It’s more me, y’know?” And like hell he’d let anyone think his code skills were just some meta ability.

He’d worked damn hard for those skills, and he was damn good. One of the best, and he was also good enough to know he still wasn’t actually top of the charts.

That was the Oracle, although knowing they still hadn’t cracked his servers felt really good.

Tim was all but vibrating, clearly full of questions, but they were both interrupted by a loud growl from Tucker’s stomach. Immediately echoed by Tim’s, so at least he wasn’t alone.

The two shared sheepish grins, and then Tucker stretched.

“So, breakfast and then Twenty Questions?” He offered cheerfully, and Tim nodded at once, thrusting the PDA back and rolling off the frankly massive bed.

——————

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[melo-yello]

💥🚘Car Accident 🚘💥 w/ 💥🪨KiriBaku🪨💥

Pairing(s): ProHero! KiriBaku X black!reader, ProHero!Eijirou Kirishima X ProHero! Katsuki Bakugou X black!reader

A/n: I realize I shoulda just wrote a drabble or a oneshot at this point. I might start writing those😜. 🤷🏽‍♀️I’m not sure if this post the 1st time so I deleted the old post and repost. 😬If you’ve seen it before Srry. 😬

Warning(s): trauma, anxiety, slight mentions of grief, slightest mention of blood, skin picking, and arguably too much fluff

💥🚘 At first there was just red and ringing and pain. Then came the realization of what and how it happened. Somehow you had managed to pull out of traffic and into a gas station. Reality sweeps over as you sit in your passenger seat fumbling with your phone.

💥🚘 Out of old habit you call your dad only to realize he was back home damn near a 4 hour drive or train from the city. Hot tears drizzle down your brown cheeks as you assure him you’re fine. “I have to leave work. I’ll be there as soon as I can, Honey. Call someone close.” He says in a soothing and gentle tone.

💥🚘 You do your best to clear your head enough to think who to call next as you curl further into yourself. KATSUKI. You open your recents to find his contact within the first five. The phone rings for seems like an eternity. “Oí, This is Bakugou Katsuki! Leave a message.” You swallow the fleeting relief at the sound of his voice as you realize it’s answering machine. You call a second time only to catch it again.

💥🚘 The officer at the scene approaches your shaking form dialing your other boyfriend’s number. Hoping that he was off patrol already. It rings twice before the officer clears his throat. You nearly jump out of your skin as you get to your wobbly feet and hang up the phone and leaving it behind in the car. “Ma’am can you tell me what happened?” He says in a laid back and even tone. “I I I I’m so sorry. It was all my fffffaaault. I’m sorry. I didn’t see it was red. I don’t know why. Aaaannnnnnd then I pulled into the intersection and he hit me. I’m so sorry. Oh god is he ok?!!” You stutter hugging yourself tightly. Puffy e/c eyes dart to the crumpled metal pieces scattered over the street.

💥🚘 “The young man is fine. Sweetie, Look at me. It was an accident. No one means for these things to happen. Are you ok?” He sighs placing a hand your trembling shoulders. Guilt swells in your chest just before an ache settles into the shoulder he touched,but you don’t flinch away. “Just my shoulder and neck and my whole left side really. I’m ok I think.” You nod. “Hold tight. The EMT is on their way. And it’s ok accidents happen.” He sighs walking away to direct traffic around the wreck you caused.

💥🚘 You collapse back into your passenger side no longer able to look at the lights and the traffic. Everything a little too loud and a little too bright. Guilt settles itself on your chest as you slump your head into your hands. Careful not to lean into your sore side. The world around fades as your subconscious screams the same question over and over again. WHY DIDN’T YOU SEE THE LIGHT?!! IT WAS RED!!

💥🚘 Warm tears pool at the corner of each e/c eye. Pressing your hands into each other more reverently then you had in a long time. You beg yourself to stay composed. No one else was reacting like you were. There was mostly shock and pity on the faces of the on lookers. Suddenly the all too familiar lofi Steven universe cover hits your ears and you recognize you own ringtone.

💥🚘 You fumble for your phone to see your younger sister’s contact photo on screen. She was 2 years under you and had been sharing an apartment with you since she started Uni. “Hey Bighead?” You clear your throat and attempt to smile. “Y/n? Are you ok? Kiri called me cause he couldn’t get you and said you sounded upset when you called him earlier.” She questions hearing the weaver in your voice instantly. “Uh no not really? I got in an accident. I’m fine, but I gotta call him back, bye.” You hung up only to see 3 missed calls from him and 2 from Bakugou.

💥🚘 You take a deep breath as you dial your most likely frantic boyfriend. The phone barely rings once. “Pebble!? You ok, Babygirl?” Kiri hums anxiously sounding slightly out of breath. More guilt sets itself squarely on both your shoulders. “Hey Babes, first I’m not he hurt or aaaaanything. I was in an acccccident though. I’mmmmm so sorry, Eijirou. It’s all my fault though.” You huff doing your best to keep it together. “Y/n, I’m coming right now. Where are you?” Kiri responds calmly without an ounce of hesitation. “You don’t hafta. I’m not hhhurt or aaaaanything bbbut I’m ...Uuuuhhhhhh-” You stutter trying to read the street names just as he cuts you off. “I know, Y/n. It’s ok just send me your location.” He hums making an easier suggestion. “Oh yea. I can do that.” You nod fumbling through your messages and send it to him. “I got it, Pebs. I’ll be there in 45 maybe 30 minutes. Want me to stay on the phone with you?” Soft and sure as he always is with you. But you can’t ignore the nervous edge to his voice. You caused that.

💥🚘 “Please Don’t Go Eijirou!” You cry out louder than intended no longer able to keep the desperation from your voice. A few people turn at your outburst. Your breathing staggers and droplets roll down each cheek. “I won’t. I won’t. Just talk to me, Sweetheart.” He says firmly. “Ji, I’m so scared. It was so scary. I fucked up.” You sigh curling into yourself. The sharp sting in your left makes you loosen back to an upright position. “I know. I know, Sweetheart. It’s was an accident. They happen. Imma be there soon, Pebs. ” Kirishima’s voice trembles for the first time. You begin to try to comfort him just as your phone lights up and buzzes and a pissed ash blonde’s face appears on screen. “Eiji, it’s Katsuki. I gotta tell him.” You say unnerved a little to tell someone else so soon. “Pebble, breathe. Go ahead. I’m almost there.” He smiles so warmly you feel it through the phone.

💥🚘 You sigh toggling over to the other line. “Hey, Kats.” You breathe softly. A car honks at the one ahead of it. Your heart starts drumming with renewed passion in your chest. “Oí ,Y/n!? I called you two fucking times and you didn’t pick up!? Then Kiri’s calling me to find you. What the fuck are you even doing, Dumbass? I mean besides worrying the living shit out of your boyfriends. ” The miffed blonde snorts. “I’m sorry. It’s just you weren’t picking up aannndddd l…l was on my way over aaaccctually ,bbbut I was literally a street away from your building and I got in an accident, Katsuki. I just didn’t see the red light. It was misty but I should have seen it. why didn’t I see it? Then a car hit my driver’s side. I’m nnnnnot hurt or anything though.” You ramble trying your best not to sound as frustrated as you feel. Because he had every right to be mad. Especially since you weren’t injured or anything, and you basically worried him and Kiri for no reason.

💥🚘 Fabric muffles the phone. ‘Motherfucker!’ and ‘Shit!’ are still clearly heard from the other side. “For Shit’s Sake! I’m a fucking dick! Are you ok? Nevermind, you don’t have answer that. I just checked your location, I’m on my way.” He says matter of factly over the shuffling in the back ground. The sound of keys and what had to be his apartment door lock clicking come quickly after that. “Suki, Kiri’s already on his way. You don’t have to c-” “L/n. L/n Y/n, do you want me there?” He sighs cutting you off as he takes the driver seat in his all black maxima. “Please!” You answer much more quickly and desperately then you wanted to, “…I just …I just don’t wanna be alone.” With that his engine reeves. “Then, I’m there. Less than five, Babygirl.” He practically coos in the gentlest way you can remember hearing him save for one other occasion.

💥🚘 The light mist of rain is practically nonexistent now. The steady hustle of the traffic doesn’t halt like you’ve seen in the movies or TV. Cars just reroute and keep moving around like nothing even happened. You can’t help but in one way or another feel overly dramatic. The dull pinch of rounded nails bite into each of your palms. You try in vain to swallow all the swarming emotions clouding your thoughts. A thousand ‘What ifs’ swish around already overstimulated brain. “You still there, Teddy? I’m a bout to pull up.” The gruff sound of your boyfriend’s voice draws back out of the trance you had fallen into. “…,I’m a fuck up.” You breathe in response kicking at the pavement.

💥🚘 “Is anyone on their way here to meet you, Ma’am.” The officer asks strolling back over to your crumpled form in the passenger side. Your head in your hands. Your shoulders slumped. A couple bubbly tears threatening to roll down each cheek as you pitifully meet his gaze. Just as you’re about to answer your boyfriend car whips into the small gas station pulling up less than four feet away from you. He steps out in a plain white muscle tee, all black adidas joggers, and his favorite slides. His harsh scarlet gaze instantly softens at the sight of you.

💥🚘 “Sir, you can’t park there!” The officer snaps as he turns in the direction the new vehicle. Bakugou’s stride doesn’t slow it pace or change toward the officer. The only recognition the man receives is the sharp cut of red eyes glaring over at him. “Sir, You can’t park there!” The officer says again now stepping into his path. “Move.” The gruff blonde growls digging out his ProHero license and shoving it inches from the cop’s face. “Sorry, Dynamight Sir. I didn’t recognize you.” He mumbles a disgruntled apology as he steps out of Katsuki’s way. Bakugou simply smacks his teeth in response.

💥🚘 You stand a tad too quickly. The world sways out of focus for a half a second. In a blink of an eye Katsuki’s arms are around you. “Oh, FireCracker, you are not a fuck up.” He sighs. He only called you that when he had come back from a long trip or when he’d get hurt bad in a fight that landed him in the hospital. His way of saying ‘I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.’ Without actually having to say it. Special occasions only. Somehow sensing it’s needed now.

💥🚘 “Katsuki…” You sniffle attempting to force out an explanation. His warm burnt caramel fills your nose. His fingers slip in and out of the curls at the nape of your neck. You latch onto him for dear life. The tension in your sore shoulders finally drops. And tears pour down your face and onto the warm side of his neck where you nuzzled your face. “I’m Sorry! I shoulda-I shoulda seen. Fucked up the car. I’m Sorry. I’m such a bad driver. It was sooooo scary. I was terrified. What if…How am I gonna get to work? I messed it all up. I messed everything up!” You blubber as you tryin vain to squeeze him closer into yourself. Disorganized thoughts flowing in every direction. Pulling him down and wedging face further into the crook of this neck.

💥🚘 “Shhh. Y/n, you’re okay. Accidents happen. Everyone is ok. Nobody got hurt. You’re is ok. That’s what matters most. We can get you a new car, Babygirl.” Bakugou breathes slowly like he was carefully choosing each word he spoke as he rocks both your bodies in his chiseled arms. “Bbbut-” You argue only for Kats to kiss the top of your head brushing a hand over your spiraling curls. He promptly moves the curls crowding your features wound tight with worry and anxiety. He pouts playfully at you just before he kisses your forehead and cheeks. “You’re safe, FireCraker. That’s the world to me. That’s what matters most.” He says in between kisses. You cry a little longer as he holds you occasionally sprinkling kisses here and there.

💥🚘 After what felt like a centuries of sobbing and reassurance, you let Bakugou out of your vice grip. “Better?” He asks wiping your damp face with his rough palm. His touch is firm but warm. You nod biting as your bottom lip and squeezing the hand that’s interlocked with yours. “Where are you hurt?” He questions looking your over with caring concern. “Just my left side and neck really.” You whisper in a choppy tear torn voice. Katsuki pouts again and you can’t help but smile because he most likely doesn’t even know he’s doing it. “Well Love-”

💥🚘 “Y/N!” The all too familiar voice of your favorite red head rings out from the opposite direction and cuts the blonde off. Katsuki drops your hand. You glare over to him in confusion just before you hoisted into your mountain of a boyfriend’s arms. Still fully clad in his ProHero costume and arms out stretched Kirishima effortlessly scoops you into his arms. “Pebble I’m so sorry it took me so long. I was across town when you called. I didn’t have time to change. I’m I’m so so so sorry. I’m here now! You ok, Sweetheart?” He blurts out cradling you into his broad chest. “Umm..” You swallow tracing aimless shapes on his pec. A new stream of tears cascades down your face. This time felt so much more shameful than the first time with the officer or second time with Bakugou. Why did you cry each time. No one else was crying.

💥🚘 You ball your hands into fists to force your voice to speak and the knot twisted up inside of you to loosen. It doesn’t. “Hey Hey. Pebs, it’s ok. I got you. Kats does too.” Eijirou says lifting your chin so you meet his deep red eyes slightly glassy too. “You’re safe with us.” Suki nods unfolding his arms and leaning into Eiji’s shoulder. “..I killed Her car. I killed Mom’s car...It was last thing she left me and I wrecked it.” You sniffle stubbornly face wet and snotty. An ugly angry pit that had been twisting in the bottom of your stomach. The last thing your mom gave sat beneath a gas station. Undrivable . You sink into Kiri’s arms.

💥🚘 The boys are quiet for a moment. You can’t shake the overwhelming guilt you feel. “Yea, Sweetheart you wrecked your car. Your mom’s car. But you’re not hurt. You think that’s a coincidence, Y/n. She protected you, Pebble. When no else could. When no one was there to protect you. She was there. It could have been so much worse. But it wasn’t. And no one got hurt. That’s so fucking amazing.” Eijirou sighs softly hugging you into his chest before placing you on your feet again. You wobble a little and brace yourself against him. “i almost called her, ya kno. It’s been nearly 7 months and i almost called her…what’s wrong with me. ” Your voice cracks as you drag a sleeve across your face. Your hands still locked in fists as nails dare to break the skin. You can feel the warm blood pool underneath your nails.

💥🚘 “Oh, Pebs, Not A Damn Thing. Not a single thing.” The broadass red head says pulling you into a gentle hug opening your closed fist and placing them on either side of his rib cage. His bare skin is much cooler than your stinging hands. “Baby, that’s natural. It was your first wreck. Of course you wanted to call her.” Baku whispers closing off Eiji’s embrace and sandwiching you between the two of them. “I miss her so much.” You whimper giving into their comfort and the inescapable terror of your first accident. You let yourself cry until it hurt and your throat hurt.

💥🚘 The stars shine dimly outside of the ER as you walk hand in hand with your boyfriends. After nearly four hours of nurse check ins, blood drawing, various waiting rooms, and CT scans, you finally head back to the parking garage.

💥🚘 “How do you feel, FireCracker?” Suki hums pulling his keys out of his pocket. “Better that we’re leaving this horrible place.” You huff turning just enough to stick your tongue out at the hospital. “You did great in there, Babes! Very Manly!” Kiri laughs ruffling your curls with his free hand. Starting to visibly relax as you regain some of your playful demeanor.

💥🚘 The soft lofi tones fill the night air. You pull your phone from your pocket to reveal your young sister’s contact. You had been texting her the entire evening keeping her update every step of the way. You sigh and take deep breath preparing for what had to be a thousand questions. Katsuki snatches the device from your hands and answers. “Oí, BigHead. Yea. Yea. Yea. She says Hi. We’ll be over there in 15. Bye, Ya Lil Shit.” The disgruntled blonde laughs taking an uncharacteristically playful tone.

💥🚘 You and Kirishima trade the same baffled expression only to turn your attention to your shared boyfriend. “Oh come on don’t look at me like that, your kid sister is funny as fuck.” He shrugs stopping at the black maxima. “Since when are you two besties.” You stare looking appalled at the recognition that your baby sister had some how weaseled her way into your coldass boyfriend’s heart. “Shit my world doesn’t revolve around you, Dumbasses. We hang sometimes. We went shopping and got mani pedis a couple weeks ago.” Baku rolls his eyes unlocking the doors and hoping in the driver’s seat. You turn to Kiri, but he only smirks. “We play Smash and Animal Crossing on some of my off days. Her island is beautiful.” He admits opening the back door for you. “Is nothing sacred anymore?!? I thought you guys were mine.” You pout flopping dramatically into your seat. You wince as you land to heavily on your sore side. “Be Careful, Teddy!” “Watch Out, Pebble!” Both of your boyfriends chide you immediately. Eijirou slides in next to you resting your head in his lap. “Lovelies, I’m not gonna break. I promise.” You snicker placing the red head’s on your hip and putting yours on top.

💥🚘 The maxima roars to life and pulls out of the garage. Bright flashes and a couple vibrations draw your eyes to your phone screen. Your dad’s texts illuminate the backseat. ‘Just got to your apartment.’ ‘Can’t wait to see you, HoneyBunny.’ You smile up at Eijirou’s jawline and then the back of Katsuki’s head before giggling. Opening and closing your palms to reveals the goofy character bandaids Kiri had put on the crescent moons you had torn into the soft skin of your palms. Then Katsuki kissed each one as they were placed on in the waiting room. You kept telling them it to stop and people staring only for Baku to shrug firing back ‘Let ‘em.’ Laughter bubbles up as love and joy fill your chest. These two always have a way of making horrible days not so bad.

💥🚘“What’s so funny?” Eiji smirks down at you squeezing your tummy. “You two really love me? Even when everything is falling to shit. You’re there and You want to be there and I want you there. You make it a lot less shitty and I can’t thank you enough for not leaving me behind…I love you so very much.” You mumble the last phase almost inaudibly. “Oí, Eiji! Did that ticklish little shit mumble something?” The blonde glares mischievously from the front seat. “First Awwww, Pebble. Two, Definitely sounded like it, but only one way to find out, Suki Sir.” Kiri grins raising a red eyebrow at you. Before you can even wiggle away Kiri’s grip fastens you in place jabbing his thick fingers into your armpits then down your rib cage. “I’ll never tell!” You hiss.

💥🚘 Grasps for air and laughter mix as you squeal loudly for mercy. After several snorts escape you and your air supply runs dangerously low, you forfeit. “No More. No More. Please I give. I give.” You puff with burning lungs. “Cease Fire, Shitty Hair.” Katsuki nods sternly pulling into a parking slot at your apartment building. “What happened to never, Pebs?” Kiri quips halting his attack but not letting you up. You shove a finger on his lips to quiet him as you catch your breath. “I said I lwove you and you so very much.” You singsong clasping both hands together and placing it over your heart and pursing your lips in a kissy face.

💥🚘 Much to your surprise warm lips meet your puckered ones. Smokey caramel scent making it clear Bakugou has captured your lips leaning from the front seat. He deepens the kiss and takes the side of your face and nips your bottom lip. You gasp allowing him in. He’s gentle but nothing less than dominant. As you break apart you barely have time to react before Eijirou’s lips replace his. Eijirou shows far less restraint. He bites your lip roughly and wastes no time deepening the kiss. His hands wraps your throat. A from pressure taken away as abruptly as it came. “Later…maybe…If you’re up to it later, Sweetheart.” He whispers licking the shell of the ear. He teasingly sinks his teeth into the soft skin on your neck as he unlocks his door.

💥🚘You have the dumbest smile glued to your face after that. You sit up still pretty dazed by the spontaneous affection. “Of course we love.” Your boyfriends say in unison leaving the car like that didn’t wind you up just before you had to see you family. “Me too, You Teasing Assholes.” You huff following behind some of your favorite people to come in your life.

[writtenjewels]

Matchmaker part 2

Questions, More Questions, Matchmaker

Salim wasn't sure whether he was annoyed or secretly grateful that Zain went all the way to Camp Slayer to find Jason. It was such a big risk and Zain could have been captured or hurt. Then again, Salim had been thinking of Jason and missing him, and Zain must have picked up on that.

It was still a little surreal having the American in his living room talking with his son. Salim listened to their conversation as he set about making tea for Zain and coffee for himself and Jason.

“So your dad told me you're going to university in London.”

“Yes. I'll be studying mythology. I can hardly wait! The House of Ashes proves that some of those stories are true!”

“You look just like your dad when you get excited,” Jason noted with a tone of amusement. “You shoulda seen him when we were down there. We found this weird-ass communication device and his whole face lit up when he talked about how it worked.”

“Jason,” Zain began. He was quiet for a moment before continuing: “Why did you and Baba separate?” The question made Salim's heart skip a beat. His son had picked up on a lot, it seemed.

“Because he woulda been treated as a fuckin' prisoner of war. I couldn't let that happen.” Salim was listening with such focus that the kettle whistling startled him. He hurried to take it off and pour the tea. The two had fallen silent and when he joined them he found them sitting on pillows waiting. Salim's eyes gravitated to Jason's face first before moving on to his son's.

“Sit here, Baba,” Zain instructed, pointing to a pillow next to Jason. If Salim didn't know any better, he would think his son was doing this on purpose. He sat and handed out the drinks. Jason took one sip and nearly spat it back out again.

“Goddamn, that is some strong shit.” He took another sip anyway, of course. Salim smiled fondly and sipped his own coffee. “You got a real cozy home here,” Jason spoke up. “Very warm and light.” He leaned close enough that his shoulder nudged Salim's. “I'm glad I came by.”

“So am I.” Their eyes met and Salim felt a pleasant thrill move through his body. Jason was so handsome... He blinked and turned his gaze away.

“I'm going to start on dinner!” Zain announced, rising to his feet. The two men watched as he headed into the kitchen.

“You get the impression he's tryin' to leave us alone?” Jason wondered.

“Yes, that was exactly my thought. He's never volunteered to make dinner before.” Salim took another sip of coffee to hide some of his embarrassment. How obvious must he have been for Zain to orchestrate all this?

“He's got this idea that you and I...” Jason trailed off and when Salim looked at him, he saw the younger man was blushing. “Was he wrong?” Jason asked nervously. Salim's heart skipped another beat. Without meaning to he leaned in a little closer.

He had been terrified while in the House of Ashes, but this was another kind of fear entirely. His hand trembled as he rested it over Jason's.

“No. He wasn't wrong.”

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

Wrong Number, Asshole - A Bakugou Katsuki Soulmate AU

All Parts

Part 24:

You groaned, rolling over to grab your dinging phone off the nightstand. 

Rubbing at your eyes, you sat up against your headboard, breathing deeply. As it turns out, a highly emotional day like the one you had yesterday could really tire a person out. It was so tiring in fact that you had collapsed almost the second you fell into bed last night. You had been pretty much dead to the world since. 

Opening your phone, you nearly rolled your eyes at the text waiting for you.

You scoffed. He sure was petulant today, wasn’t he?

He began typing again, but deleted his words.

Now, you were a little nervous. You weren’t being clingy- right? Sure, you really wanted nothing more than to see him again, and sort of felt that maybe you were entitled to that considering he was your soulmate, but maybe the feeling wasn’t mutual?

Who were you kidding, he might have texted you but that didn’t mean he liked you as much as you liked him. This was Bakugou after all, and even if he somehow did, he’d rather chew his own leg off than admit it. 

You read through the texts again, hoping and praying that you didn’t sound too desperate. It was another few minutes before he responded again. With an answer that really did absolutely nothing to quell your fears. 

You blinked owlishly at his reply, before sending him a quick “okay”. 

Bakugou always seemed to know when you were overthinking things- and, on one hand, it was annoying because he never understood that him and his dismissive words were the cause, but, on the other hand, it was nice. To finally feel understood for once. And to finally talk to someone who’s responses, when he tried, were intentionally made so blunt that you couldn’t possibly misunderstand them.

Sighing, you pulled your tired body out of bed and headed for the shower. Apparently your plans, which had originally consisted of being lazy the entire afternoon, were suddenly changing. Not that you were complaining though.

--/--

Stepping out of the cab, you noticed the crowd once again swarming the front of the hospital. The horde of people almost seemed to be moving as one mass, pushing and pulsing against the security guards standing at the entrance. There were a lot of people covered in Dynamite merch and face paint, even little kids dressed up like Bakugou and feigning explosions as they played.

 It seemed that Bakugou’s heroic deed had put him back in the public’s favor and now they all had gathered in a show of support- and while you could appreciate that as a symbol of community, you selfishly sort of wished they’d leave so visiting him would be less of a spectacle. 

You realized suddenly that more of this was definitely going to be in your future; the crowds of screaming people and adoring, over-excited fans. Your soulmate was a pro-hero after all, and quite possibly the loudest man you’d ever met- you should’ve known a quiet life wasn’t going to be an option. 

As it stood now, you had almost no idea how you were going to make it through the massive throng of bodies- and, even if you did somehow push to the front, how you were going to convince the guards to let you through at that point.

“Excuse me!” A young girl suddenly grabbed your arm, tiny fingers clasping around your wrist. “Do you know how to get in! I need to get in!”

You were blindsided, stopped in your tracks and held down by the girl. She was young, but not much younger than you- if you had to guess, she was 17 or 18, with bright eyes and a strong grip that surprised you. This, her, was certainly not what you expected out of today.

“I- why do you need to get in so badly?”

“Bakugou!” She exclaims, eyes glazed over starry and adoring. She thrusts out her other wrist, presenting you with a poorly drawn tattoo. “See? I’m his soulmate!” 

Your stomach drops, and for a second you nearly believe it- but then you snap out of it, and all you can think about is how strange the situation is. She was young, so obviously young, and so clearly charmed by your soulmate’s hero persona. You thought it was a little funny- if she knew Bakugou like you did, you were almost sure she wouldn’t be as delighted with him. 

You weren’t sure how to respond. The immature, prideful part of you wanted to scoff and shake her hands off of you- to tell her just how foolish she looked talking to his actual soulmate. But, then again, you weren’t sure you could say anything about that at all. In all the research you’d done on him, you hadn’t seen a single mention of a soulmate- he never talked about it, never let anyone see even a hint of your name tattooed on him. Maybe he wanted to hide it for the sake of his career? Or, worse, was embarrassed of it?

“H-his soulmate, huh?” You stutter out, unsurely. 

“Yep! So that’s why I need to get in there so bad! To make sure he’s okay!” She rambles. “So, will you help me get in?”

“Y/n! Y/n L/n!” You hear a familiar voice yell, and when you look towards the sound, all you see is a flash of red hair and hands waving emphatically.

Kirishima. Thank god.

“I’ve gotta go.” You shake the girl’s hand off, slightly jostling her with the force.   “I’m so sorry!” 

You hardly recognize the disappointed look in her eyes before your arm is grabbed once again- but this time by a security guard as he leads you to the front. The guard deposits you at the entrance, just a few feet from where Kirishima is waiting for you.

“Sorry about that.” The red-head chuckles nervously, opening the door up for you. “I uh- I woulda said something earlier, but I couldn’t see you to point out for a guard. It’s totally my bad!”

“No, it’s good, you’re good.” You reassure him, following him as he leads you to the stairwell from yesterday. “Thanks for saving me. I was pretty overwhelmed.”

“Yeah. It can get pretty crazy out there- not as crazy as Bakugou, though! You shoulda totally seen him screamin’ and yelling at the window when you walked up. He was super pissed.”

“Sounds like him.” You can’t help but smile. “Doesn’t surprise me at all.” 

“Yeah.” Kirishima nods. “Who was that girl- you know her?”

Your silence and the uneasy expression that rolls across your face must give it away- he almost immediately pales.

“Oh! Yeah- sorry, none of my business, right?” Kirishima turns to face you, stopping at the step above you for a moment and throwing out placating hands. “It’s totally cool, don’t feel obligated or anything, I was just curious! Sorry for prying though, that wasn’t manly of me at all.”

You almost couldn’t believe Kirishima was such close friends with Bakugou- he seemed like the total opposite of your soulmate.

“No! It’s fine- I wasn’t offended or anything. Just,” You paused, looking at you feet as they climbed higher. “She wanted me to help her get in. To Bakugou. Said she was his soulmate.” 

Kirishima turns around again, his feet nearly catching on the step as his mouth drops open. “She said that? To you! That’s insane!”

“Yep.” You nod, slightly breathless and you finally reached the fourth floor. You let out a small chuckle as you continued down the hallway. “She was young though- definitely a fan, so I didn’t say anything. I didn’t really want to crush her dreams in front of all of those people.”

“Man, that’s good. She’d probably be super upset, right? Good job!” He throws you an enthusiastic thumbs up, all shark teeth and bright eyes. “Still though- I shoulda guessed it was somethin’ crazy like that. You looked totally freaked out back there!” 

“Did I really?”

“Mhm,” He nods, finally stopping in front of Bakugou’s door. “I- uh, I better stay out here. He’ll be real mad if I let anyone else through. Especially if you’re in there.” 

“Oh. Yeah. Okay.” You push the handle open, turning back for just a moment. “Nice to see you, though. Thanks again for the save, Kirishima!” 

When you enter the room, you’re surprised to find Bakugou, grumpy and sitting in a chair next to the window. And not in his hospital bed resting- where you’re almost 100% sure he should be. He’s clad in a weird combination of hospital pants and his own sweatshirt- it only serves to make him look even more petulant as he sits with his pinched expression.

“You seemed real buddy-buddy with Shitty Hair.” He grumbles, but there’s a smile beginning to tug at his lips as you near. “You think he’s better than me or some shit?”

“Oh- yeah. Loads. Loads better actually.” You joke, taking the vacant seat next to him. When you turn to look at him, he’s already glaring at you. “Oh calm down, grumpy, I was joking. Box dye and bandanas aren’t really my thing.”

Bakugou laughs. “He’s been pullin’ that shit since high school. Kinda losin’ all hope he’ll ever be cool.”

“Hey- don’t be mean! Maybe he’s just an extra-late bloomer, you never know.” You sigh, fixing him with a serious stare. “Now, though, we should really move onto more pressing matters.”

“Which are?”

“You in one of these chairs, and not in a hospital bed!” You near shrieked. “Which- by the way, I looked it up- four stories is 40 feet! You fell 40 fuckin’ feet and you’re not in a hospital bed, right now!” 

Bakugou just rolls his eyes, fixing his gaze on the window once more. “Stop your freakin’ out already, woman, I’ll be fine. I’m already healed from all the big injuries anyway- so just shut the fuck up about it already.” 

“The big injuries- what about the small ones? Bakugou! 40 feet! Do you know how much that is! I feel like you’re not taking this seriously enough!” 

“Who cares.” He shrugs, settling into his seat with a slight wince. “Didn’t fuckin’ kill me, so who cares.” 

“Me! You idiot! How many times do have to make this clear to you!” 

Bakugou just looks at you, eyes widening as he breath catches. He looks genuinely and plainly shocked- easily the most expressive you’d seen him be aside from rolling in pure anger.

“I already told you, you fuckin’ asshole, that I like you and care about you! So of course I’m happy that you’re not dead, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about the small stuff!” You emphasized, sighing as you run an errant hand through your hair. “And I can see you’re still fucking hurt, so of course I’m going to freak out when you’re not in a hospital bed- like you should be, and you’re not sitting there resting- like you should be! Who the hell even helped you up? Why the fuck would they ev-”

“Shut up already. I get it.” He mumbles, and when you look at him his cheeks are bright red and he’s biting his knuckle. His eyes are alive though- bright and simmering and so very, very red. “I got up myself. Don’t go blamin’ anyone else for it.” 

“God. Of fucking course you did! You know- you make yourself really hard to care for, right?” 

“I know.”

“And it’s just like- I do it anyway, you know! And get shit-all nothing but anxiety and still choose to do it anyway! You’re so fucking frustrating!”

“I know.”

You turn to look at him, but he’s already looking at you, something soft and pleased growing at the edge of his lips. 

“No! Don’t just sit there and start smiling.” You huff, pointing an emphatic finger at his stupid smiling face. “I’m mad at you and you need to go back to bed so don’t just fuckin’ smile at me!” 

“I get it.”

“No, obviously, you dont! Because you’re not getting up! So, c’mon,” You stand from your chair, offering a hand. “Let me help you.”

Bakugou just looks at your hand, glares at it, and stands by himself. You can see the strain plainly on his face- how the action winds him and how it sends pain shooting through his battered body. When you look at his eyes though, all you can see is resolute stubbornness. With great effort, and even greater determination, Bakugou manages to hobble over to the wall, dropping against it. His shoulders hit first, and then he’s rolling all of his weight back onto them.

You were stunned- not that he chose to do it, because of course he chose to, but mostly that he’d succeeded. You’d seen a clip of his fall, it was playing on the news before you’d left your house, and it looked nasty. When he hit the ground, all of his limbs were so mangled and impact alone knocked him out clean. The injuries he still had, broken bones and cracked ribs, at the very least, must’ve still been causing him great pain- and yet he surpassed those with sheer force of will alone. It would’ve impressed you; if seeing him in so much pain didn’t make you so sad.

“That didn’t look comfortable. I really think you need crutches, angry man.” You point to the bed. “Or you could just go lay back down, like you’re supposed to, and we could forget this whole argument.”

“No thanks. Done bein’ fucking fussed over. The only reason I haven’t left yet is because there’s people everywhere.” 

“And because you’re not supposed to, remember?”

“No. It’s good now. Nurse said I could.” He says, groaning when you stare back at him entirely unimpressed. He points to a bundle of papers and medication on the bed. “Look, gave me all the discharge instructions and everything. I’m not fucking lying.”

You walk over, flipping quickly through the packet of instructions. Bakugou wasn’t lying- he really was approved for discharge apparently, albeit under very specific instructions for not over-exerting himself. Which he was obviously doing so great at so far. 

Sighing, you folded the papers and placed them in the bag with all of his medicine. Regardless of what he wanted, you were going to make sure he took care of himself. And that included, taking all of the medication and performing the physical therapy outlined on the papers.

“Alright, then. Guess we’re going, after all.” You clap your hands together in finality, before grabbing the bag of medication. “I still think you need crutches though.”

You look him up and down, eyes zeroing in on the way he was huddled against the wall. All his weight was in his shoulders, and in any other situation, you might’ve thought it was an effortlessly cool pose- but not here. Not in this hospital room with him dressed in weird clinical sweats and a childish expression.

“I’m not getting crutches. Lame as shit.”

“Are you kidding me? Your body is literally beat to hell- who cares about how cool you look right now?”

Bakugou just nods toward the window, and you peer down to see the crowd from earlier still gathered below. It seemed like cameras and reporters had also joined, and they were making a worrying amount of headway to the door, pushing against security impatiently. It looked entirely overwhelming, if you were honest.

“If I leave with crutches,” He starts. “Then I gotta hear about that shit for fuckin’ weeks.”

“Are you serious?” You ask appalled. “You’re obviously injured! What the hell are they even gonna s-“

Bakugou just hits you with a pointed stare, and it stops you in your tracks.

He’s right. Any weakness- even crutches when injured- would read bad for his career. It would shatter the illusion people had of him. Of his infallibility and limitless strength.

“It’ll draw too much fuckin’ attention,” He elaborates, pulling the hood over his head. “No shitty sweatshirt could help me then.”

“Wait, that’s your disguise for sneaking out? A sweatshirt?”

Bakugou just nods, suddenly pulling the hood up and over his head. It flattens his wild hair against his forehead, and you nearly squeal. He looks adorable- although still very much like himself. You weren’t so sure this disguise would cut it, but you were pretty much out of other options. It would have to make do.

“Yeah. Okay. I get it, put the hood back down.” You pause, trying your hardest to think of another solution. “How about a wheelchair?”

Bakugou just looks even more offended- like your last request was a front to his very dignity. Hell, knowing him as you did, you figured it probably was.

“Yeah, fine, I get it, angry man- no wheelchair.” You sigh. “At least let me help you then? I mean, it looks like you need something at least.”

“No. I fuckin’ don’t.” He refuses hotly, shifting his weight agitatedly against the wall. “I’m fine.”

You roll your eyes, you should’ve expected him to be difficult about this. It seemed that appearing weak was his greatest fear; you thought that was a little ironic- that his biggest weakness was weakness itself.

“Seriously- please. You look like you’re about to keel over where you stand, Bakugou!”

“I told you not to fuckin’ call me that, anymore.” He retorts angrily, but you watch him wince when he moves too much. “And I told you, I’m fine. So just shut the hell up about it already.”

You watch him for another moment, taking careful stock of the way he leans back on his shoulders and curls his arms around his sides. You didn’t ask him specifically- but you’re sure now, Bakugou’s at least got broken ribs- among many other broken and sprained things probably.

Fine, if he won’t readily accept your help, than you’ll just have to goad him into admitting his own failure.

“Hmm, sure, then step away from the wall then, hot shot.”

He’s quiet, but you watch as his eyebrows pinch and his cheeks redden.

“Why? Stop bein’ fuckin’ weird! I’m just standing for a second, leave me the hell alone, shitty woman.”

You just shake your head. It almost disgusts you how much rolling fondness smothers what should’ve definitely been annoyance.

“So, you’re telling me,” You start, walking a little closer to him. “That if you stepped away from this wall right now- that you wouldn’t immediately fold in half like a lawn chair?”

“No!”

“Okay. So do it then, pop rocks. C’mon. Let’s see.”

“I’m- I’m not just gonna fuckin’ do something just because you goddamn told me too!”

“Not even if it’s a challenge?” You tease, nearing him even more. You’re just a few measly feet away now, staring defiantly up at petulant red eyes. “Because it is- a challenge. I bet you that you can’t do it.”

“Fuck you.” He grits out, but then he’s pushing off his shoulders and standing straight. “See? That’ll teach ya to run your stupid mouth about shit you don’t know dick about.”

“Hmm, good words, Katsuki- expressive, even. We’ll see how long you last.”

He doesn’t say anything, but you can see his jaw clenched down; his shoulder’s strung tightly, the slight twitch in his calves. Katsuki isn’t going to stay upright for much longer.

You move before you even recognize it, sidling up to him and ducking under his arm.

“What are you- Stop! Get the hell away!” He barks harshly, but stands in place, not really doing much other than flushing violently. “It’s- I don’t need your fuckin’ help!”

“No, Katsuki, chill out- stop,” You laugh, rearranging his heavy arm over your shoulder. “If we’re doing this then I’m going to help you!”

“Lemme go! I’ll fuckin’ crush you, I don’t need your help!”

“Okay, yes, fine, maybe you don’t need it, but it would make me feel a whole lot better if you accepted it,” You huff, your hand wrapped tight around his wrist. “And you won’t crush me- I’m a big girl, I promise I’ll be fine. So just stop being stubborn- for me? Please?”

He growls, rolling his eyes to the ceiling- but then he’s shuffling closer to you and shaking his head. If you thought his arm was heavy before, you were sorely mistaken- when Katsuki finally surrenders, the solid weight of all his muscles nearly takes you out. You stumble for a moment before regaining your balance.

“Idiot. Thought you said you could handle it?” Katsuki looks down at you, smirking slightly before once again rolling his eyes. “Now, c’mon, fuckin’ get on with it, sunshine.”

You resist the sudden slight urge to nudge his ribs, or let him collapse to the ground- this was your idea, and you wouldn’t let your child of a soulmate talk you out of helping him.

“So, I was thinking-“ You begin to shuffle with him, slightly breathless. “We sneak out the back. Or something. There’s a crowd outside.”

“Already established that, several times, fuckin’ ages ago, dipshit- and of fuckin’ course there is. It’s me.”

“Oh my god, this is not the time for your ego!” You groan, but still keep a steady pace as you begin, towards the door. “Speaking of, though, one of your fangirls told me somethin’ real interesting on the way in, though.”

“Christ. What?”

“Apparently, she’s your soul mate.” You laugh, shallowly, trying to project a confidence you couldn’t feel. “C’mon, Katsuki, you should’ve told me! Total dick move that I had to find out from her!”

He scoffs, patting your shoulder with the hand strung across it. “You fuckin’ tell her off or somethin’?”

“Nope. I told her that I think you guys would make a really cute couple!”

“Are you fuckin’ serious?”

“No- of course not.” You say stopping in front of the door for a quick break. You suddenly weren’t sure whether you could really do this or not. “I didn’t say much of anything, really, didn’t know if I could.”

“Hah?” He looks down at you funny, red eyes squinting. “Fuck’s that mean?”

“You know, your career? Didn’t wanna say anything just in case.”

“Incase’a what?”

“I- I don’t know,” You stutter, suddenly feeling insecure. You focus your eyes on the tiles beneath your feet so you don’t have to look at his eyes. Eyes that you can feel boring into the side of your head. “Just in case, you know?”

“No. I fuckin’ don’t.” He says, mild irritation coloring his voice from above you. “Stop thinking so goddamn much, I can’t fuckin’ keep up- just tell me what you’re all worked up over.”

“It’s-“ You sigh, ringing your hands together anxiously. “You’re- you’re not embarrassed, right? Because, I know I shouldn’t have done this but I was looking you up again, and I just- I didn’t see anything about you having a soulmate? Anywhere? Ever? Do you just not want people to know or- because that’s totally fine, you know, like I get it, you’ve got this super big career outside of me and I’m totally fine if you just wanna like not say anything to anyone or lik-“

“Idiot. Stop thinking so much.” Bakugou tilts his head towards the ceiling. “I’m not fuckin’ embarrassed of you.”

“T-then why?” You ask hesitantly, while staring at your feet. You’re not sure if it’s the jarring movement as he rearranges his weight or your racing heart, but either way you’re feeling sick. “Actually- you know what, it’s fine, forget I even said anything. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

Bakugou doesn’t say anything, just nods and stays silent. Then he looks down at you, at the way you won’t meet his eyes, and he groans.

“Fuckin- fine. God, you always make me say the most embarrassing shit.” He gripes, flushing slightly as you finally look up at him. “It’s not because of any of that stupid shit. It’s- I fuckin’, ugh, I didn’t want somebody else findin’ you or whatever before I did.”

“What? Find me? Who?”

“God, you’re fuckin’ dense.” He scoffs, but when you look up he’s still smiling lazily down at you. “People. Media. Fuckin’ villians probably too.”

“Holy shit.”

“Chill out. I kept fuckin’ quiet so you don’t gotta worry about that now. Besides-“ He turns his head away, cheeks flushing slightly. “I’d blast all those fuckin’ weaklings to hell if they tried anything now. So don’t get all anxious about it or whatever.”

You just look down at your feet, smiling at his words but still feeling unsure nonetheless. You understood- for sure, but that didn’t mean the weight of all these consequences was easy to bear.

“Now can we go? Are we done worryin’ about stupid shit?” He asks lightly, jostling you slightly. “Got more important things to do.” 

You nod, opening the door just to watch Kirishima stumble backwards.

“Oi- shitty hair! What’re you leanin’ against my door like that for?”

“Oh! Hey guys!” He greets cheerfully, before taking stock of the situation. He tilts his head. “You guys leaving?”

“Obviously.” Bakugou scoffs, but then he’s leaning in toward his friend, dropping his other hand heavy on the red-head’s shoulder. “Need ya to distract anyone who walks up here though. Gonna leave the other way and go out the fuckin’ back.” 

“Oh- yeah, okay! Got it, man! You sure you should be leaving though?”

“That’s what I said.” You interrupt, glaring Bakugou into silence as he tries to speak. “But he insisted- and I’ve got all his meds and instructions so I think we’ll be alright. Maybe. If we’re lucky.”

“Don’t just fuckin’ talk about me like I’m not standin’ right here, shitty woman!”

“I wouldn’t have to if you weren’t so difficult all the time!” You retorted. “Now, you can handle it from here, right Kirishima? We really could use your help.”

“Yep! Totally got this! You guys go on ahead, I’ll stand guard right here!” He flashes a bright smile at you, before pointing down the hall. “There’s a staff elevator just down there. You should use that- it’ll probably be way faster. Good luck!” 

You just nod, smiling brightly at him as you pull Bakugou in that direction.

“Oi- not so fuckin’ fast!” He shouts, stumbling slightly.

“Keep your voice down, angry man! Everyone’s gonna know it’s you!”

“How the fuck is my voice gonna give it away?” He says, while simultaneously screaming like a banshee in the middle of an otherwise quiet hallway.

“Like that! So keep it down, good fucking lord.” You grumble, a breath of relief leaving your mouth as you finally near the elevator. You push the button, sighing as the doors open.

Bakugou shuffles away from you, leaning against the back wall and staring moodily at you as you press the button. The elevator surges downward, and after a minute or so the doors began to open again. You shouldered his arm once more looking up to see him pulling the hood of the sweatshirt farther down his face. He looked adorable and you couldn’t keep yourself from staring.

“Oi- fuck you lookin’ at, woman?”

“Nothing.” You laughed. “Now, c’mon, we’ve still got a ways to go.”

Sneaking Bakugou out was no easy affair to begin with, and he certainly didn’t help whatsoever. His frame was just too large and too heavy, and there was no possible way he could be quiet, especially considering his thundering steps, even when he wasn’t screaming. He seemed to attract attention no matter where he was or what he was doing. People were starting to stare as you booked it towards the back exit- you needed to move. And quick.

“Jesus christ,” You huffed, breathless and slightly irritated. You point at his stomach as you pull him along. “I know you’re hurt, but could you at least try and engage those core muscles you so obviously have?”

“You said you’d be fuckin’ fine, sunshine.”

“God, you’re difficult.” You shook your head, rolling your eyes at the sight of his amused little half-smile. “You think this is funny don’t you?”

Bakugou doesn’t say anything, but when you look up at him, there’s still that small smile edging at his lips. He seems to hold it, even through his grunts of obvious pain.

“Wow, of course you do. Immature, angry, loud man.”

“Who says I’m fuckin’ loud?” He asks hotly, pulling his shoulders in as you both shimmy through the, admittedly, small back door. “I’m not fucking loud!”

“God, you’re screaming right now! Do you even hear yourself?” You wince, but feel relieved as you help him hobble to the curb. “How’s a taxi sound, pop rocks?”

“Don’t fuckin’ call me that. I hate it. Don’t do it again.” He grumbles. “But it’s fine- whatever, I don’t care.” 

“Great.”

You raise your hand up, nearly crying in relief when a taxi rolls up to the curb. When you help Bakugou in, and slide in the seat next to him, you’re almost overcome with satisfaction. Sneaking him out was one of the most difficult tasks you thought you’d ever taken on- both physically and mentally, and god, were you glad it was over.

--/--

As it turns out, explosive personalities don’t always lend themselves to explosive environments.

Bakugou’s apartment was clean, tidy, nearly spotless when you helped him walk in. It surprised you, truly, but he didn’t let you sit on that thought for long. He brushed you off, hobbling slowly down a long hallway without a word. It takes a few minutes, but Bakugou enters the room at the end and slams the door shut behind him.

Oh- What exactly were you supposed to do now?

In reality your fingers were itching to open drawers and rifle through cabinets, and just generally snoop but you, of course, knew better. So you instead chose to read through the instruction papers and medications once more- just to busy yourself and maybe see if there was anyway you could help him. Since, apparently, Bakugou was not keen on asking you for assistance himself.

You hear the door open again, and Bakugou comes unsteadily down the hallway, nearly collapsing when he reaches his couch. He’s dressed in new sweats, and he turns to look at you.

“Fuck you doin’ over there?”

“Meds, angry man.” You say, doling out the few necessary pills from a bottle. “Where’s your glasses?”

“You don’t have to fuckin’ do that.”

“What- you’re gonna force yourself to get up again?” You ask him, unimpressed. “You’re hurt, so just please let me help you. At least with this.”

He nods tightly, mouth pressed into a thin line. “Glasses are in the cabinet behind ya.”

You nod, filling a glass of water for him and walking the medication over. Watching as he took it, you weren’t exactly sure what to do now. So you just sort of hovered next to the couch, arms around your stomach anxiously.

“What’re you doing- sit the fuck down already, idiot.” He pats the seat next to him. “Stop being weird. Freaks me the hell out.”

“Yeah. Sorry.” You laughed. “Just didn’t wanna assume- in case you wanted me to leave or something.”

“Wouldn’t have let you in if I wanted you to leave. Dumbass.” He reaches over, flicking your forehead lightly. “Your stupid thoughts are clogging up the air. Stop it.”

“Hey!” You whine, rubbing at your forehead. “Not nice, angry man! I’ll let it go this time, but try it again and I promise you’ll really be hurting.”

“Mhm. I’m sure.”

He settles further into the couch, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. The mid-day sun floods through the window, hitting the column of his throat, and casting him in gold. You think he’s beautiful then. Far more beautiful than anyone else you’d ever known.

“Yeah, sorry.” You breathe out, suddenly a little nervous by your close proximity to him. “Think those’ll probably make you a little sleepy.”

“Fuckin’ stellar.”

“Don’t sound so grumpy- it’s just a nap. And besides, you should probably be taking one anyway.”

“It’s not that.” He peeks an eye open, lazily rolling his head to catch your gaze. “You hungry?”

“No- I’m good. Are you?” You ask suddenly. “I can totally get you something? Or make you something? What do you have here? What do you want?”

“Jesus, sunshine. Slow the fuck down.” He breathes, turning his head back to the ceiling with a small, fond, smile. He sighs sleepily. “I’m good. Just wanted to ask ya.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

He mumbles something, but you don’t quite catch onto it. It’s quiet for a few moments, before his breathing is starting to slow. Your surprised at just how tired he seems to be, but then again, he was taking some pretty strong pain meds. As it stands now, he seemed minutes from falling asleep, and you were worried about the strain he was putting on his neck.

“Hey- you shouldn’t fall asleep like that.” You touch his shoulder lightly, fingers just barely brushing the fabric of his shirt. “Lay down, I’ll get up.”

Bakugou just opens his eyes, only glancing at you for a moment before he closes them again. Then he’s tipping over, a flurry of heavy limbs and awkward weight hitting your lap. When you look down at him, his eyes are squeezed tightly closed and he’s blushing wildly. He kicks his feet up off the floor, and settles in, quickly becoming deadweight across your thighs.

“O-oh.” You say, breathless. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Mhm. Now shut the fuck up, I’m tryin’ to sleep.” 

“Yeah.” 

You’re winded, short of breath and flushing bright red from his actions; but still, you find you absolutely can’t help yourself. So, with shaking breaths, you’re carding fingers through his hair before you can think better of it. 

When you look down at him, Bakugou’s only gone brighter red, but he’s smiling too. He stills, before suddenly peaking one eye open.

“Wake me up for dinner, alright, idiot?”

You nod and then he’s closing his eyes again, chest rising and falling slowly. He’s asleep and dead to the world in just a few minutes, but you can’t stop staring.

You knew you liked him- liked him a lot, as a person, not just a soulmate. You liked his weird brand of humor and his insults and death threats. You liked his masked concern and blunt words, you were even strangely fond of his yelling- but you weren’t prepared for just how much those feelings would amplify when he was so close. He was close, and warm, and breathing under your fingertips and you liked him so much. More than you’d ever liked anything or anyone else in your entire life. 

You were stricken, absolutely smitten, and there was nothing you could do about it. Or even wanted to really. So you just stared, eyes tracking his calm features as you worked careful fingers through his soft hair.

You understood now- why so many of your peers had told you they were jealous. Why they had all sighed dreamily when you told them, before immediately wishing to be you. Having a soulmate was inexplicable completeness and undeniable purpose- it was finality and new beginnings all in one.

You understood now, and you wouldn’t trade it for anything. 

//-//

ee soz this took so long!! no excuses lmao i just stupidly started playin genshin and holy shIT was that bad for my productivity ahahaha

hope u enjoy my lovelies!!!!

[babybluebex]

sugar pie, honey bunch [lee bodecker smut]

➽ pairing: lee bodecker x fem!reader(y/n) ➽ word count: 4.3k ➽ summary: lee gets tired of your secret rendezvous at work, so he comes to your house and does something about it.   ➽ warnings: NSFW/MDNI. explicit language, smut, unprotected sex (pls wear a condom), daddy kink, degradation, infidelity by both parties, loss of virginity, mentions of anal sex ➽ a/n: if you know me irl no u don’t <3

It was quiet. Too quiet. I hated that. The silence let my thoughts run amok and that was never good for anybody, but least of all me. I had a tendency to overthink things, and quiet and still only amplified that. Knockemstiff, Ohio was the absolute worst place to live if you hated silence, because nothing happened in that little town. About twelve years ago, there had been a veteran who killed himself after his wife died, but that was the loudest thing that had ever happened to my little Knockemstiff. I should know; I worked as a secretary at the police station. I heard all of the gossip from around town. Earlier today, someone had been arrested for being drunk, which I think everyone in Knockemstiff could be in violation of. Every other day was quiet. It was hell. 

I could hear the crickets way out in the fields as I walked around the house. Those bugs served as my soundtrack as I found a box of matches and quietly slid a few into my mouth, and I padded through the house until I reached the front door. Knockemstiff was the sort of town where people didn’t use their front doors unless the Pope was showing up; it was all side doors and garages (if you were lucky enough to have one, which most of us didn’t). All that to say, I knew I could smoke by the front door and nobody would smell it. 

The night was hot. Oppressive and stifling, nearly suffocating. My skin was tacky against my nightshirt as I struck a match and lit a cigarette, and I leaned up against the side of the house. The moon was full, casting silver light onto my barren front yard and the dirt road that stretched exactly from one side of town to the other that ran in front of the house. It was a weird sort of beautiful. But quiet. Oh so quiet. 

Quiet, until I heard the far-off rumbling of a car. It wasn’t unheard of to get visitors in the night-- usually someone coming to ask me about the police station, because nobody had the balls or willpower to call our sheriff after hours-- but the noise drew closer at a snail’s pace. Whoever this was wasn’t in any hurry at all. Finally, a car rolled up in front of the house, the headlights off. There was a moment where I watched the car, then I sighed when the door wrenched open to reveal Lee Bodecker. The sheriff was a nice enough guy, maybe at the risk of being too nice sometimes and a total prick at others, but I was at a loss for why the hell he’d be here this late at night with his cruiser’s lights off. If it were an urgent police matter, he’d have his flashing lights on. 

“You shouldn’t do that,” Sheriff Bodecker told me, his voice carrying across the yard. 

“Do what?” I quipped. 

His boots brushed the porch as he climbed the steps up, and I caught his eye in the moonlight. “Smoking’s unbecoming of a young woman,” Bodecker told me pointedly. “Anyway, it’s a bad habit.” 

“You come to lecture me on smoking?” I asked. “I ain’t quite finished typing up that arrest report yet, if that’s what you’re after.” 

“No, no,” Bodecker said. “Nah, I ain’t here for that, sugar.” 

“Oh?” I said, crossing my arms. “And what are you here for?” 

“We’ll get to that soon enough,” Bodecker said. “Ain’t you gonna invite me in? It’s awful late.” 

“Exactly why I’m not gonna do that,” I said quickly, taking an exaggerated drag on my cigarette. “People talk, Lee. Blowjobs in the supply closet during lunch break are one thing; showing up to my house unannounced at half past midnight is something else. And I ain’t gonna be no Whore of Knockemstiff, ya hear me? Run along. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Invite me in, Y/N,” Bodecker said, tilting his head down to look me in the eyes. Bodecker was imposing: six feet tall and sturdy as a mule, even if his middle was getting a little soft. He had these steel-blue eyes that cut right to my core and gorgeous eyelashes, with puffy pink lips and a little cleft in his chin. Maybe if he were ten years younger, thirty pounds lighter, with one less marriage, I’d be into him properly, but that wasn’t the case. Our relationship was one of necessity (but aren’t they all?). His pretty little wife had stopped sucking his cock and he had a thing for my pink lipstick. It worked. That wasn’t to say that I didn’t enjoy our little trysts, because I definitely did, but something felt off about this certain encounter. He had never paid me a visit at home before. “Be a good little host for me.” 

I huffed and stamped out my cigarette. “Come in, won’t you?” I grumbled, throwing open the squeaky screen door. It felt off to have Lee in my house, but everything about us was off. I guess this was only normal. 

I flipped the light on and settled myself against the counter as Lee pulled off his tan sheriff’s hat. His hair was dark as pitch, shorn short on all sides but getting a little long at the top, and little wrinkles appeared at the corners of his eyes as he squinted at the pictures I had on the fridge. “And who’s this?” he asked, pressing his thumb into a picture. 

I looked at it and clenched my teeth. “Boyfriend,” I answered simply. 

“Oh?” Lee chuckled. “And where is he?” 

“Well, right now, he’s in ‘Nam,” I answered. “He enlisted, got sent over.” 

“And he didn’t propose before he left?” Lee asked, and I shook my head. “Hmm. Usually when men go to war, they make sure that they’ll have someone waiting for them when they get back.” 

“Why are you here?” I asked suddenly. “What do you want?” 

“The wife’s mad at me tonight,” Lee said. “She was drinking and started yellin’ at me. Said I was better gone.” 

“And you came here?” I said. “Why?” 

“Got nowhere else to go,” Lee shrugged. “And I figured that you’d welcome me.” 

“You couldn’t go to a bar?” I asked. 

“Not unless I wanted to run into my sister,” Lee said. “And I don’t feel like having a fucking lecture.” 

I sucked in air through my teeth. “Fine,” I finally said. “But you’re on the couch.” 

“Aw, c’mon, babe,” Lee groaned. He approached me at my place at the counter, and his arms went on either side of me, keeping me right where he wanted me. “It’s been a long day for me. You’re not really gonna make me sleep on no stinkin’ couch, are ya?”

“I sure am,” I told him. “‘Cause you’re sure as hell not sleeping in the bed.”

Lee tilted his head. “Not even a good night kiss?” he asked. 

“No,” I said. “This is an inconvenience for me. I got shit to do tomorrow and I need sleep.” 

“Which is why you were outside smoking,” Lee said. 

“Helps me calm down,” I snapped. “Lee. Let me go.” 

“You sure are a stupid little bitch, huh?” Lee sneered. “You really think I rolled up to your house just wanting a place to sleep? Honey, you shoulda been expecting more.” 

Lee regularly spoke to me like this, but it was usually while I was tying my hair back and kneeling down in front of him. “Don’t call me that,” I said. 

“It’s true, though, ain’t it?” Lee asked. “Just a dumb bitch, that’s all you are. You fuck a married man and try to act like you’re better than everyone else. And you don’t think everyone knows?”

My ego deflated in half a second. “Do they?” I asked shakily. 

“That’s why the wife kicked me out,” Lee said. “Someone told her I was fuckin’ you, and she got mad. Asked for a divorce and all.” 

“We’re not fucking, though,” I tried to counter. 

“Oh, so you’ll put my cock in your mouth and call it ‘convienience’, but you draw the line at calling that ‘fucking’?” Lee scoffed. “C’mon, sugar. The whole town already knows it.” I tried to keep my chin up, but I know that Lee saw my lip trembling. “Oh,” he chuckled. “Except the whole town doesn’t know, do they? Your little boyfriend goes to sacrifice himself for the betterment of our fuckin’ country, and you’re here, whoring yourself out for me? Is that why you don’t wanna fuck me proper? Saving your first time for that bitch-boy?” 

“I’m not a virgin,” I said, but Lee instantly saw through my lie. 

“Bullshit,” he said. “You know how I know? You suck cock like a high schooler.” Lee’s hand went to my waist, and he held me a tight, bruising grip. His hands were so much stronger than I had imagined, and an unfamiliar heat bloomed between my legs. My arousal wasn’t usually a part of the supply closet moments between us, and I had never really felt that before my boyfriend left. This was uncharted territory for me, and I hated that Lee seemed to instantly know that. “I bet you think about me every night, don’t you?” Lee asked. He leaned into me and pressed a kiss to my neck, and a shiver ran down my spine. “Don’t you?” He growled, taking my skin between his front teeth. 

“Fuck,” I hissed. “You’re a dick.”

“Answer me,” Lee snapped, smacking my ass hard enough to make me gasp in pain. “You think of me fucking you stupid every single goddamn night, don’t you? I can tell, with the way you eye me at the station. You’re not subtle, honey, not in the slightest.” 

“Lee,” I whimpered. “You’re hurting me.” 

“Good,” Lee huffed into my neck. He shoved his hips against mine with enough force for my waist to collide with my countertop, and I became well and truly stuck between Lee’s rock-hard cock and the counter. I knew what he was offering, and I couldn’t deny that the thought of his thick cock inside of me made butterflies erupt in my tummy. He kissed my neck, becoming more needy by the second, and he finally sank his teeth into my skin. “Gonna have to make up your mind, sugar, or I’ll do it for you.” 

I gulped down my anxiety, and I whispered, “Be gentle.” 

“That’s a good girl,” Lee chuckled. “Show me where that bed is, sugar. I’m gonna fuck you ‘til you can’t remember your own goddamn name.” 

As soon as I pulled Lee into my bedroom, he had pushed me onto the bed and was kissing me hard. He bit my lips and sucked on my tongue, and he swallowed every pathetic moan I let out. God, I was pathetic. I was shaking, I wanted him so badly. Lee obviously knew that and had no problem with letting it go to his head, because he situated himself over me and gave me a wolfish smile. “You want me to undress you, sugar?” he asked. 

“I can do it,” I told him. 

Quickly, I rid myself of my nightshirt, and my skin tingled at the exposure to the air. Lee gave a gentle sigh, almost like one of relief, and dipped his head to my chest. He ran his tongue from the dip of my neck to between my breasts, and he latched his teeth onto one of my nipples with no warning. I nearly gave a shout of surprise, but I kept it contained. If this bit of foreplay was any indication, there would be enough time for shouting and crying later. 

“These…” Lee growled, grabbing at my breasts with rough hands. “Perfect fuckin’ tits, sugar, Jesus. Wanna come all over them. I just might have to.” 

Lee’s mouth went to my other breast, and one of his hands fluttered down from my chest to my waist, and even lower. Again, without so much as a censure, he pushed a finger past my folds and sunk himself knuckle-deep into my throbbing heat. My back arched against my will and I cried out at the amazing feel of it, and Lee laughed into my tits. “I’m only doin’ this ‘cause it’s your first time,” Lee told me, slowly dragging his finger in and out of me. It was a feeling like nothing I had ever experienced before, and I felt tears welling in my eyes. It was so fucking good. “If I had it my way, I’d already have my cock in you. Have you on your belly, fucking the hell outta you, watching myself fuck you so deep.”

“Please, Lee,” I sobbed. 

Through my watery gaze, I saw Lee smile against my chest. “Oh, what a good girl,” he moaned softly. “You’re my little fuck-toy, ain’t ya? Just fuckin’ desperate and begging for it. I guess it won’t take too long to fuck you absolutely stupid, will it?” I shook my head, and I jerked in surprise when his calloused finger drove itself into that spot inside of me. I called out his name; I was too far gone to care about the sick pleasure I knew it gave him. “Beg for it, sugar. Beg me to fuck you dumb.” 

“Please, Lee,” I whimpered. “Lee, fuck, please. I-I want you to fuck me so hard, please, babe.” 

Lee withdrew his fingers from me and sent a hard slap to my throbbing clit. This time, my gasp was one of genuine pain. “That ain’t what you call me and you fuckin’ know it,” he grunted. “Do it right or don’t do it at all.” 

I knew what he wanted, and I was too far gone to care. “Oh, Daddy, please,” I mewled, squirming, longing for his touch once more. “Fuck me, Daddy, fuck me ‘til I can’t walk. I want you so deep in my pussy, please.” 

“That’s more like it,” Lee whispered. Then, with a strength that I didn’t know that he possessed, he turned me onto my stomach and tugged my hips into the air. My arms shook as I tried to steady myself, and I felt my wet arousal drip down my thigh. As I tried to steady my breathing and remove the fog from my mind, I heard the sounds of Lee undoing his belt and shoving his pants down his thick thighs. His big hand captured a handful of my hair unexpectedly and he tugged me upright with only a small huff of exertion, and he bit my neck again. Lee Bodecker was an animal, and I liked it that way. 

One hand stayed in my hair as his other guided himself inside of me, and I nearly felt sick. The stretch was otherworldly and, dare I say, painful. Maybe the prep he had been doing wasn’t such a poor idea. But I had made my bed; now I had to lie in it. “Slow down,” I panted, feeling the tears return, and I writhed in his grip. “Fuck, Daddy, it hurts.” 

“I know it does,” Lee whispered, biting my ear. “But you asked for this. You asked for me to fuck you, and I’m gonna do just that. And ya know what? I think I’ll come in this pretty little cunt. What do you think of that?” I started to protest, but Lee shoved his fingers in my mouth, effectively shutting me the hell up. Even if I wanted to say something, I couldn’t. “Fill you up to the fuckin’ brim, have it drip outta you, it’ll be such a filthy thing to see. Your little boytoy comes home from the war and you’ve been letting an older, married guy stuff you full of cum? You think he’ll like that? Think he’ll wanna share?” Lee snapped his hips forward, fully burying himself inside of me, and I gave a wrecked sob around his fingers. I thought for sure that he would split me in two. 

Lee’s fingers dug into my hip as he started a steady rhythm. I truly had no idea how old he was-- I imagined probably late 30s or early 40s-- but he was fucking me hard and fast with the stamina of someone my age. Either he had a lot of expertise in the field or he truly had the fantasy of coming inside of me and was wanting to hurry the process along. The more I thought about it, I realized that I really knew nothing about Lee. Not his wife’s name or if he had kids; I didn’t even know that he had a sister until he had mentioned it earlier. However, something about not knowing was better than knowing. At least, this way, I could sort-of distance myself from the act. I was fucking the sheriff (or, technically, he was fucking me), but we weren’t an item. I was just his favorite toy. 

Lee suddenly wrenched my arms behind me and captured them against his chest, fully restraining me and leaving me pliable for him. With his fingers still in my mouth, I could hardly do anything but submit, but I liked that. I couldn’t tell if the throbbing in my pussy was pleasure borne from the way he was punishing my g-spot, or pain derived from his taut balls hitting my wet pussy every second. I had gotten my wish; there was to be no walking in the morning. I could feel spit gathering at the corners of my mouth, and I nearly choked on it, but Lee suddenly slowed down, molding his soft body against my back. “Fuck, honey, I’m gettin’ close,” he panted in my ear. “Now’s the time to tell me if you want me to come in ya or not.” 

His fingers left my mouth, and I tried to form any thought. Lee was the only thing in my head, though, and I could only whimper out his name. That was answer enough for him, because he released my arm and shoved me down onto the bed. His hand grasped the back of my neck and held me down as his hips pounded in and out of me, huffing and panting. I never could have imagined that the sound of that would have turned me on as much as it did, but my muscles tightened around his fat cock, and he laughed. “Aw,” he cooed. “Does the little cunt need to come? I’ll be honest, I forgot all about that. Wanna make a mess all over Daddy’s cock, don’t you?” 

I answered with a keening whine, but that didn’t seem to be enough for Lee. He smacked my ass hard, surely adding to the redness and bruising that I know already existed, and he fisted my hair tighter. “Answer me, bitch,” he growled. “Say it. Say ‘I wanna come on your cock, Daddy’.” 

“I wanna--” I started, and a shudder went down my body when I felt something warm and wet find home on my asshole. I was so far past the point of degradation, and my mind instantly went somewhere else. I had heard about that, sure, but I had never imagined that that could be something that I wanted. And yet, here I was, Lee’s spit coating my ass, mumbling out words that would send me to hell. “Fuck, Daddy. Can you fuck my ass?” 

“Oh, is that what you want?” Lee asked. “As tempting as that is, I’ll save that for another night. I’m not sure you’re a virgin, sugar, begging for it up the ass. But, fuck, it looks so good… I guess we have something to look forward to, huh?” 

Lee’s arm wound around my body and he instantly went to my poor clit. His fingers had tugged at it enough to make it tender to the touch, and he abused it as he fucked right into my g-spot. “Jesus Christ,” Lee whispered. “Squeezing the shit outta me. I’m serious, honey, let me know if you don’t want me to come in you. You’re about to not-- fuck, Y/N-- have a choice.” 

“I want it,” I told him. “I fuckin’ want it.” 

That seemed to be the final straw, because Lee sent one more hard fuck into me, and I felt his cock twitch before warmth spilled into my pussy. The squelching as he continued to fuck me through his orgasm was so loud that I was afraid that the whole of Knockemstiff would hear it, but I couldn’t make up my mind on whether I cared or not. Somewhere in the middle of that, Lee cussed and began to rub my belly, whispering sweet things to me that would have felt out of place only minutes before. I didn’t realize that I had come. I liked the feeling of it, though, especially with how sweet Lee was suddenly.

“Good girl,” Lee told me. He shushed me as I moaned and cried, my pleasure edging on pain, and he pushed my hair away from my neck and placed gentle, open-mouthed kisses on my throat. “So, so good for me, ain’t ya? So goddamn pretty when you’re coming all over my cock. I can’t tell you how much I dreamt of this…” 

My entire body trembled as Lee pulled out of me, and I collapsed onto my bed, panting and trying to form a coherent thought that wasn’t just the sheriff’s name. Only a few seconds passed before he was on me again, but it felt different this time. Lee moved the two of us under the blankets and rubbed my back, and he kissed my forehead gently. I nearly thought it was love. As my tears dried and feeling returned to my fingers and toes, I became aware that Lee was naked against me. As far as I knew, he hadn’t undressed as he had fucked me. His skin was so warm and it was comforting, and I nuzzled my head into his soft chest. My throat was so dry as I tried to swallow to form words, and Lee titled my face up in order for me to look him in those pretty blue eyes of his. 

“How’re ya feeling, sugar?” He asked, his voice as wrecked and raw as mine. “Feelin’ alright?”

“Sore,” I mumbled. “It hurts, Lee.” 

“I’m sorry, honey,” Lee whispered, and I knew that he was being honest. Lee was perhaps the biggest jerk in town, his elected title obviously inflating his ego more than it should have, but I never knew that he was capable of being sweet in this manner. “I was real rough with ya and I just shouldn’t have been. I feel plum awful ‘bout it.” 

“No,” I croaked, splaying my hands against his chest. Underneath the coarse hair, I could make out white marks on his skin, and I pressed my forehead against him. As I studied his body, I saw more and more of the marks, and it was only when I saw my hip against his that I connected the dots. Stretch marks. My Lee had stretch marks all over him, just like I did. “Please don’t. I woulda stopped you if it was too much. Thank you.”

Lee nodded and sighed into my messy hair. “You looked so beautiful,” he told me. “Any man that calls you his is a lucky fuckin’ bastard, I’ll tell you that much.” 

I couldn’t help myself. My lips pressed against my chest, and I took care to kiss every mark I laid my eyes on. “You’re…” I began. “You’re gorgeous, Lee.” 

“Nah, knock that shit off,” Lee chuckled. “I ain’t nothin’ compared to you, sugar.” 

“No, really,” I told him. “Those big blue eyes, your pink cheeks… Your fat fuckin’ cock--” I laughed at myself, and Lee kissed the top of my head. “You’re the most handsome man I ever met.”

“Even more than your soldier boyfriend?” Lee asked. 

“My soldier boyfriend’s like a twig, Lee,” I told him. “There’s nothing there for me. But you…” 

“I’m fuckin’ fat, s’what I am,” Lee said with a smile, but I saw the hurt in his eyes. “I’m old and I’m fat--”

“Alright, shut up,” I said. Suddenly, a different sort of desire burned in me, and I pushed Lee onto his back before I straddled his waist. “There ain’t nothing wrong with you, ya hear? You are fucking perfect, Lee.”

The insecurity flashed across his face, darkening his features for only a second. “But the marks--” 

I twisted my body to show him my hip and thigh. “I got ‘em too,” I said. “And don’t act like you didn’t see them, not for one second. And what did you do? You didn’t give a shit. I don’t either. They’re a part of you, and you are so sexy, Lee. I wanted to jump your bones from the moment I met you, and nothing ‘bout that’s changed and nothing’ll make it change. And ya know what? I’d reckon you’re stuck with me, so get used to it.” 

“Oh, I’m stuck with ya, am I?” Lee asked with a smile. He tugged me down to him, pressing his tongue into my mouth once more, and the ache between my legs was replaced with the now-familiar pleasing tingle. “And I get no say in it?” 

“I think you got your say when you wanted to fuck me up the ass,” I said, sinking my teeth into his plush bottom lip. “What a fuckin’ cliche we are, huh? The sheriff fuckin’ his secretary.” 

“When I first hired you,” Lee began, his warm hands traveling all over my body, and his fingers took special care to trace the white marks along my thighs, hips, tits, and ass. “My wife hated the idea. She said she was worried that late nights at the station would wreak havoc on me, and having a pretty little thing like you there with me was dangerous.” 

“Don’t go talkin’ ‘bout your wife,” I groaned. “That’s such a turn off, Lee.” 

“Oh, is it?” Sheriff Lee Bodecker laughed, stuffing his fingers back inside me, just like nothing had ever happened. “‘Cause you seem all wet for Daddy, just the same.” 

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Lost Boy

Sodapop Curtis x Reader

Words: 4305

Summary: 16 years of never belonging and you’ve finally had enough. You move in with your outcast sister in Tulsa and meet a group of boys who finally make you feel like you’re where you’re supposed to be. Inspired by the song Lost Boy by Ruth B.

Notes: Peter Pan is one of my all time favorite stories and I love this song. I thought it could bring a whimsical, yet still angsty feel to a Sodapop imagine so I hope you guys enjoy! 

Warnings: Mentions of abuse

Sodapop and more: HERE

-

There was a time, when I was alone

Nowhere to go and no place to call home

You always wanted to know what it was like to fly. To soar above the clouds, too far away to hear your parent’s screaming. Watching the world zoom by through the car window was the closest you’d ever felt to flying. You were free.

Pulling up to the little shack of a house, your sister, Beth, gave you a small smile.

“It's not much. You’ll be sleeping on the couch until we can clean out the attic.” She rambled. Beth rambled when she was nervous. “We were going to have you stay in the boys’ room, but Michael has a fever so he’s had to stay in bed-”

“Beth,” You gave her the biggest smile you could. You hadn’t smiled like that in a long time. “It’s perfect.” There was a loud racket coming from the house at the end of the block and three rowdy boys came bounding down the street. 

“Hey Mrs. Austin.” One greeted as you both got out of the car. Your sister waved and he grinned. You never knew a boy could have a smile as nice as he had. 

“Steve, my engine is making that sound again.” Beth said to one of the other boys. 

“I’ll look at it as soon as we get back.” He said and the three took off down the street again. The one with the nice smile looked back at you and for a second you thought he might have winked. 

“Who was that?” You asked, turning your attention back to your sister as she helped you unpack. You didn’t have much. Just some clothes and a couple books. 

“The one I was talking to is Steve Randal. He’s been helping me keep this piece of junk rolling.” Beth patted the hood of the car. “The others are two of the Curtis boys. They live with their big brother Darryl down the block.” She pointed to the house the boys had come out of. “Nice kids.”  

You watched them walk for a moment longer before taking your things inside. Your brother in law greeted you with a suffocating hug and one of your nephews wrapped around your leg. 

“John.” Beth laughed, prying him off of you. John was six-years-old and Michael was four. They were two of the sweetest and silliest boys you’d ever met. 

“Look at how big you’ve gotten,” You said, feeling a twinge of guilt. You hadn’t seen the boys since Michaels first birthday. You were lucky if your parents let you write Beth letters. 

Beth was your age when she got pregnant with John. Your parents kicked her out of the house and told her never to come back. Her and Jack got married and moved here, to Tulsa. Two years later, she had Michael. They were happy, which was more than you could say for your parents. But you’d never have to worry about them again. 

After you settled in a little, you decided to find a quiet place in the neighborhood to read. You’d lost count how many times you had read Peter Pan, but you never got tired of it. The idea of a place like Neverland got you through every fight, every tear filled night, and every cigar burn. 

You walked around for a while before you found a nice spot in the big empty lot. There were a couple of logs to lean on and a spot where a fire had been. With winter break coming to its end, the January air made you shiver. You didn’t mind. You were too happy to even notice. 

Just as you opened to the first page, you saw a figure approaching. He was hunched over with his hands shoved in his pockets. He didn’t even notice you until he reached where you were sitting. This must be his usual spot. 

“Hey, who are you?” He spat, though it was hard to be intimidated by his quivering voice. 

“My name is Y/N,” You said calmly, setting your book aside. “I just moved here.”

“Yeah, well you better beat it.” He ducked his head like he was trying to hide his face from you. “There are some real creeps around here at night and you don’t look like no greaser girl.” 

“I’m usually pretty good at handling myself.” You stood, not to scare him, but to show that you weren’t scared. “What’s your name?” 

“What’s it to you?”

“Well, if we’re going to be friends, I’d like to know your name.”

“Who said I wanted to be friends?” 

You sighed and tucked your book under your arm.

“Suit yourself.” You walked past him, bumping his shoulder as you went. 

“Wait.” He squeaked. You turned around. “What… what are you reading?” A little surprised, you lifted up the cover so he could see it.

“It’s my favorite. I’ve read it so many times, but I never get tired of it.” You beamed as he read of the gold lettering on the cover, worn from years of being very well loved. You could see his face now and you held back a gasp. His cheek was red and swollen and his lip was split. He caught you staring and quickly turned away. 

“Like I said, you better get out of here.” He huffed. Without thinking, you put a hand on his shoulder. 

“My dad hit me too.” You didn’t know how you knew, but you did. At first, he seemed angry and jerked his shoulder away. But his face softened and he looked at the ground. 

“My name’s Johnny.”

“Now was that so hard?” You playfully nudged his arm to try and ease the tension. He even smiled a little. 

“Johnny!” Another figure appeared across the lot, barreling towards you like a steam engine. You were worried that it might be his dad, but as he got closer, you saw how young he was. He looked Beth’s age, maybe younger. 

“Hey Darry.” Johnny greeted, his voice still quiet. 

“I thought that was you I saw slinkin 'over here.” the man crossed his arms disapprovingly. “The hell are you doin out here? You’re gonna freeze to death.” Darry saw the signs of violence on the boy’s face and sighed. “Come on home with me and I'll fix you something to eat.”

“Thanks Darry.” Johnny muttered. Darry’s stare landed on you. 

“Haven’t seen you before.”

“I just moved here today.” You meant to sound tougher, but your voice came out as a squeak. Man, he was scary. After giving you a once over and figuring you weren’t trouble, his hard stared turned a little more welcoming. 

“You must be Beth Austin’s kid sister.”

“Yes, sir.” 

“No need for that, now.” He chuckled. “You can call me Darry, same as everybody else. Your sister told me to watch out for you.”

“She did?” You knew Beth was protective, but she didn’t have to alert the neighborhood.

“Probably wants you to stay away from us greasers.” Johnny said and Darry tousled his hair. 

“You can come over for dinner too, if you want.” He offered. You would have declined, but your stomach started growling something awful. Darry motioned for you to follow him. 

“That’s Darry for you.” Johnny whispered with a small smirk. “He’s got a habit of takin’ in strays.” 

-

He came to me with the sweetest smile

Told me he wanted to talk for a while

It was kinda funny how well you fit in at a table full of boys. Darry was still fixing dinner and Johnny was talking to the youngest Curtis, Ponyboy. It only took a little convincing from Johnny for Ponyboy to get comfortable with you being there. 

“Damnit, where is that boy?” Darry exclaimed, throwing down a dish towel. 

“He probably got caught up talking to all those girls that come to see him.” Ponyboy said, sounding a little jealous. 

“Yeah, well if he wants dinner, he better get his butt back here.”

“Who are we waiting or?” You asked Johnny in a low voice. 

“Oh, they’re just goin’ on about Sodapop. He’s the middle one.”

“His name is Sodapop?” You wondered. You didn’t laugh like other girls sometimes did. You were actually curious. 

“Sure is. Our dad liked unique names.” Ponyboy beamed. “And Soda’s as unique as they come.”

“That’s one word for it.” Darry laughed, shaking his head. As if he heard his name, the middle Curtis burst through the front door, an excited grin lighting up his face.

“You shoulda seen her, Darry.” He howled. “Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

“You say that about every girl.” His older brother scoffed. 

“Well this time, I mean it. And she’s just down the street!” Sodapop leaned against the fridge with a dreamy expression. Darry cleared his throat, jerking his head towards the dinner table. Ponyboy and Johnny were ready to burst from laughter. As soon as Sodapop’s eyes landed on you, he nearly fell over, his face turning a very cute shade of pink.

“You must be Sodapop.” You tried your best to hide the nervousness in your voice, not to mention the furious blush lighting up your face. You had never been called pretty before. Maybe he wasn’t talking about you. After all, he only saw you for a second. 

“Yes ma’am.” He straightened himself out and smiled. Lord, that smile. “You-uh-you’re the girl I saw with Mrs. Austin.” 

“What’re you calling her ‘ma’am’ for?” Johnny exclaimed. Ponyboy elbowed him in the side. “Ow! What? She’s just one of us!” You laughed at the two, but kept your eyes on Soda.

“That’s me alright. Beth’s my big sister. I’m gonna live with her now.” You said proudly. 

“Where are your folks?” The youngest boy wondered. 

“Ponyboy,” Darry scolded sharply. He knew that the story probably wasn’t a nice one. In this neighborhood, they never were. You didn’t seem upset by the younger boy’s question. 

“They’re still in Chicago. Be glad you’ll never have to meet them.” You shrugged, your gaze returning to Sodapop. His blue eyes were bright with curiosity. He sat down across from you and Darry put down a plate of sandwiches. 

It was the liveliest dinner you’d ever had. Darry and Ponyboy squabbled back and forth while Johnny scarfed down his sandwich. 

“Whatcha reading?” Sodapop asked, eyeing the book you had set on the table. 

“Oh, um, you’ll probably think it’s silly.” You quickly pulled the book into your lap. His lips fell into a pout. 

“I promise I won’t.” His voice was so sweet that you knew he wasn’t going to make fun of you. You slid the worn down and well loved book across to him. “Peter Pan?” He read. “I remember that Disney movie when we were kids. Never thought about reading the book.”

“That’s cause you don’t read.” Ponyboy snickered. There was a thud and Ponyboy cried out, rubbing his now sore shin. 

“Is it any good?” Soda asked. 

“Oh it’s my favorite.” You beamed. “I guess the idea of flying away to a place where you never have to grow up was a nice thought when I was with my parents and all their yelling.”

You felt the tone of the table change. Ponyboy and Johnny looked at each other, Darry clasped his hands together on the table and Soda gave you a sympathetic smile. The grim shift made you think of home. 

“Alright, enough with the long faces.” You exclaimed, leaning across to playfully shove Ponyboy’s shoulder. “That’s all over now.” You looked at each boy with the brightest smile they’d ever seen. Your gaze landed on Sodapop and his lips returned your grin. “This is Neverland.”

Smiles returned to the boys’ faces and Darry even chuckled. You and Soda just kept looking at each other. 

“You clearly haven’t been in Tulsa long enough.” A new voice sneered. Everybody looked at the boy standing in the doorway. He had a hard stare and a mean look about him, but you didn’t let that scare you. You’d seen meaner. 

“Anywhere is better than where I was before.” You replied calmly. The boy narrowed his eyes and looked you over. 

“Is there something you need, Dally?” Darry asked sternly. 

“Little bird told me there was a new girl in the neighborhood. Didn’t think she’d be slumming with us greasers already.” Dally kept his mean glare on you until Sodapop stood up. 

“Come on, Y/N. Why don’t I walk you home?”

“Soda must think you need protecting.” He smirked. “I think you look like you can handle a guy like me.”

“Cut it out, Dallas.” Darry’s voice was a warning now.

“It’s alright. I should be getting back anyway to help Beth get the boys in bed.” You pushed away from the table, thanking Darry for dinner and saying goodnight to everyone. Lastly, you turned to Dally as you and Soda passed him. “It was nice meeting you, Dallas.”

You could feel his stare burning into the back of your head as you stepped out into the cool night air. 

“Sorry about him.” Sodapop said, shoving his hands in the back pockets of his jeans as he walked. “Dally’s really not so bad. He’s just acting like that cause he don’t know you yet.”

“Don’t worry about it.” You shrugged. “I knew plenty of boys like that back in Chicago, only I didn’t have a tough guy like Darry or a sweet one like you to stand up to them, so Dallas is right.”

“About what?”

“I can handle guys like him.” You bumped his shoulder with yours and laughed. “I appreciate you walking with me, though. Beth would kill me if she thought I was out here by myself at night.”

“Has she always been protective like that?”

“I guess.” You thought for a moment. “When we were kids, she was always sticking up for me to our old man. She never let him lay a hand on me as long as she was around.” You found a pebble on the sidewalk and nudged it with your toe. “When she got pregnant, she didn't have a choice but leave. I think she just still sees me as that scrawny 10-year-old.” 

You walked together in silence for a moment. You stopped suddenly, looking up at the sky. Stars stared back down at you with their bright faces. You liked to think they were smiling. Soda was a few steps away before he noticed that you had stopped. 

“What’re you looking at?” He asked, walking back to join you. He tilted his head upward, trying to find whatever had caught your attention. 

“The sky’s a lot prettier out here.” You mused. “In Chicago, it’s all lights and smog. But here, you can really see the stars.” That feeling of flying was back, taking you up into the air just like the book. 

“You’re a different kinda girl, you know that?” Sodapop laughed. You spun around with your arms extended. 

“You have to be different to survive, Sodapop Curtis.” When you looked at him, he could have sworn that your eyes twinkled like the stars. 

-

I am a Lost Boy, from Neverland

Usually hanging out with Peter Pan

“They were not nearly so elegant as Peter, they could not help kicking a little, but their heads were bobbing against the ceiling and there is almost nothing so delicious as that.” You read in a clear voice so that all the boys could hear you. It was strangely nice out and the afternoon had turned into a kind of gathering at the park. You were sitting underneath the jungle gym with Johnny and Ponyboy sprawled out across from you. Sodapop and Steve had their knees hooked on the bars to see who could hang upside down the longest. 

“Do you think this counts as flying?” Soda grinned down at you. Even upside down, it was the sweetest smile you’d ever seen. 

“Only until you hit the ground.” Steve swung out his arm to try and knock him down, but Soda was quicker than that and Steve was the one that ended up in the dirt. Everybody laughed and Steve was only angry for a minute. 

“Let her keep going.” Johnny whined. He seemed less skittish than he had last night. Ponyboy waited until Steve wasn’t looking to nod eagerly in agreement. 

“Pony, don’t you have studying to do?” Soda climbed down and gave his brother a pleading look. It didn’t take long for Ponyboy to catch on. He made a face and got up, nudging Johnny to join him. 

“Don’t be too late, Soda else Darry’ll take it out on me.” He grumbled, thanking you for the story before taking off back to the house. Steve also came up with an excuse to ditch, leaving just you and Sodapop, who tried to look surprised.

“Is this how you pick up all your girls? Cornering them in parks?” You scoffed, putting your book back in your bag. Man, his face turned red. 

“I don’t know what- um- I’m not… no.” He stammered, kicking the toe of his boot into the dirt. You laughed. 

“Relax, Soda, I’m just teasin’ you.” You shoved him playfully and slung your bag over your shoulder. The wind picked up a little and you shivered. 

“Don’t you have a coat or something?” Soda asked, watching the goosebumps appear on your arms. You’d picked one of your short sleeve shirts since it was so nice, but now the weather seemed to remember what month it was. “Here.”

Soda wrapped an arm around your shoulders, rubbing your skin to help warm you up. His hands were softer than you thought they’d be with him working at the gas station and all. Being so close brought a pleasant pink color to your cheeks. Before you knew it, you were inching closer and closer until he kissed you. 

His lips were gentle and soft and perfect. You both forgot to breathe for a while, but that didn’t bother you. When you did finally pull away, you both had the biggest grins on your faces. 

“Maybe I should walk you home.” Soda said breathlessly. You nodded and, with a rush of courage you laced your fingers together as you walked. 

By the time you got home, you felt like you were floating. It wasn’t the same as flying. This wasn’t rushed or heart-pounding. It was quieter and sweet. You couldn’t help but give him another kiss goodnight. When he was walking back to his house, he seemed to have a skip in his step. 

You swung the front door open with a wide smile, giggling to yourself like a little kid. But that happy feeling washed away when you saw who Beth was sitting with. 

“Daddy?”

-

Run, run Lost Boy, they say to me

Away from all of reality

You ran until your lungs felt like they’d burst. All you heard were three terrifying words and you got out of there as fast as you could ��Takin’ you home.” You were home. That bastard wasn’t taking you anywhere. 

You took the back way to the Curtis house, ducking your way through other people’s back yards so that your father wouldn’t be able to follow you. You were too afraid to go around front, so you found a low window and knocked on the glass. 

“Darry!” You whisper-shouted. “Soda, Pony, is anybody in there? Sodapop?”

The curtains were pulled aside and an irritated looking Darry peaked out at you. He lifted up the window pane all the way so he could lean out and get a better look at you. 

“The hell are you doing here, Y/N?” He asked. “Soda said he just dropped you off at home a few minutes ago.”

“I couldn’t go around front, Darry, he might see me.” You sniffed, wiping your nose on your sleeve. You must have been crying cause your face was all wet. “Could you help me in?”

He nodded and pulled you up by the arms. As you climbed in the window, Ponyboy appeared behind Darry with big eyes. You must have looked worse than you thought from climbing all those fences and cutting through yards. 

“What happened to you?” 

“Pony, go get her a glass of water. And where’s that other kid brother of mine?” Darry shouted before turning back to you. “Jeez, kiddo, you’re shaking like a leaf.”

“Yeah, Darry?” Soda popped his head into the room. His eyes went as wide as Pony’s had when he saw you. “Hey, Y/N, what’s the matter?” Darry grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him forward. 

“Sodapop Patrick Curtis, if you hurt his girl, I’m gonna-”

“It wasn’t Soda.” You blurted. You crossed your arms over your chest and stared down at the floor. “It’s my dad. He’s come to take me back to Chicago.” You jerked your chin up, trying to look tougher than you felt. “But I’m not gonna let him.” 

“I thought they let Beth bring you here.” Darry closed the window and grabbed you a blanket from the bed. It was then that you realized you must have climbed into Darry’s room. There was a pair of work boots on the floor and an old, beat-up football on the shelf. 

“They did.” You glowered. Soda gently wrapped the blanket around your shoulders. “Guess they missed having something to scream at besides each other.”

“Well you can just stay here til he goes away, right Darry?” Soda said, not losing his sunny optimism for a second. Before Darry could respond, a series of loud bangs came from the front door. 

“I know she’s in there you little punks!”

“Oh god, it’s him.” You hid yourself in Soda’s embrace and Darry went to answer the door. 

“Come out now you-” Your father’s shouting stopped abruptly. Darry, though half his age, towered over him. He didn’t look so confident anymore. “Where’s my girl.”

You held Soda tighter. Your old man must have really hurt you because Soda knew you were one tough girl. You stood up to Dallas. 

“You need to leave.” You could just see through to the living room since Darry’s bedroom door was slightly open. Darry was fully blocking your father’s view of the house.

“I’m not leaving without that little brat.” He snarled, his cockiness returning. “An’ if you don’t bring her out here, I’ll call the cops. That wouldn’t end too well for you, would it son?”

“I said leave.” Darry growled again, his muscles tensing. You knew what could happen if the cops came. So you broke away from Soda.  

“I’m right here, so you can leave these boys alone.” You snapped, stepping out before Darry or Soda could grab you. 

“Thought you could run around with these bums and I wouldn’t come for you?”

“How did you even know where to find me?”

“Those brats of Beth’s started hollarin’ as soon as I raised a hand at her.” He smiled cruelly. 

If you hadn’t been standing there, Darry would have slugged him. You just wanted to get this over with. 

“Are we going or not?” You frowned, defeated. 

“Y/N, you can’t go with him!” Soda cried, trying to reach for you, but you jerked away. Tears pricked at your eyes again. 

“I have to, Sodapop.” 

“I don’t think so.” A new, hard voice joined the scene. You looked over your dad’s shoulder and saw the rest of the boys circling the house; Two-Big, Steve, Johnny, Ponyboy, and Dallas. Dally was the one talking. “You know something, fellas? I don’t like old me. And I really don’t like old, stinkin’ drunk men hanging around my neighborhood. Especially one that yells in my buddy’s face.”

“I ain’t afraid of a bunch of rats from Oklahoma.” Your father spat, but you could tell he was a little shaken. Dally pulled out a blade. 

“How about a New York rat?” He hissed, getting real close to his face. Your dad’s eyes went wide, shifting from the blade to the circle of tough looking boys around him. Then he looked at you. 

“You ain’t worth the trouble.” He decided, carefully moving around Dally and walking into the night.

The whole group gathered around, hollering and cheering over their success. Soda pulled you into a tight hug and kissed you right there in front of everybody. One of them, probably Two-Bit, whistled. 

“Ponyboy, where the hell have you been?” Darry asked, ruffling his youngest brother’s hair. Pony just shrugged. 

“I saw that mean old guy standing out here, so I ran and got Johnny and then we got everybody else.”

You pulled away from Soda and glanced around at the other boys. 

“You all came here… for me?” You gasped, a different kind of tears now welling in your eyes. 

“As soon as I heard Soda’s girl was in trouble, I got the hell over here.” Two-Bit said and Steve nodded in agreement. You felt your heart swell. Soda’s girl. 

You looked at Dally. Without him, it might not have worked. He just shrugged coolly and lit a cigarette. 

“I had nothin’ better to do.” But you could tell that, underneath, it was more than that. Johnny gave you a small smile. 

“You’re one of us now.” 

“And we stick together.” Ponyboy added. And they were right. 

“Alright, I’d better call Beth and tell her everything is gonna be fine.” Darry announced. “You all get in here. I’m sure we’ve got more chocolate cake somewhere.” This was followed by more cheers and stampeding feet as the gang rushed inside. 

Sodapop gave you the biggest, bright smile yet, taking your hand and following the boys to the kitchen. 

Neverland is home, to Lost Boys like me

And Lost Boys like me are free.

-

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination;  @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks

[forasecondtherewedwon]

3 Simple Rules for Dating a Centenarian - ch. 3

Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Pairing: Sam Wilson/Bucky Barnes Rating: T Chapters: 3/3

Read chapters one and two on Tumblr.

Chapter three summary: Sam and Bucky take a breather from Sharon’s party in High Town.

Sam walks back into the room from before. The one that could be a high-end boutique, or the lobby of a shady but untouchable law firm, or the backdrop for a photoshoot featuring an Avenger who wanted their surroundings to exude enviable elegance and expensiveness without at all detracting from their presence. Not to name names, or speak disdainfully of the dead.

Shrugging off the brown leather jacket Sharon leant him, Sam tosses it at the couch. Yeah, technically it’s on a collision course with the back of Bucky’s head, but since Bucky dodges without turning to look, he figures he can claim poor aim. Which Sam would normally never do, especially to Bucky, but he has downed a few drinks tonight. Sharon wanted them to blend in at the party; Sam couldn’t see an easier way to blend than by doing his bit to deplete the contents of the event’s bar. He sure as hell wasn’t going to stand there pumping his arm to the beat like that motherfucker Zemo. Sam doesn’t know exactly what to blame for the Baron’s excruciating dance moves, he’s just glad he got away. Being near enough to Zemo for people to assume they were acquainted? Come on. That’s just insult on top of injury.

Bucky’s head swivels to follow him once Sam tracks into his line of sight.

“Where’s Zemo?” is the first thing he says.

Sam avoids his gaze until he’s good and comfortable on the couch at his side. It’s closer than he meant to be, since the damn thing has a curve to it, but the chairs don’t look comfortable. Unless, he supposes, you’re a percher, like Sharon. Sam doesn’t perch.

To cover for the fact that he picked his seat without thorough reconnaissance and is, with his inhibitions a little lower than usual, both far too nervous and not nearly nervous enough, Sam spreads his knees to take up even more of the couch, draping his arms along the back. Finally, he glances at Bucky.

“Sharon’s doing her shift as babysitter,” Sam says.

“Hasn’t she done enough?”

“You wanna go back down there and spell her, be my guest.”

“Nah,” Bucky says, “I think I’m good.”

Bucky’s jacket is gone too, Sam notes, moving his own from where it landed to the chair opposite. Briefly, he lets himself be curious. Why does Sharon have a wardrobe of men’s clothes in enough sizes and styles to reasonably clad himself, Bucky, and Zemo for the evening? Are these things expensive? Are they valuable, like the Monet he saw on the way in? Maybe the clothes on his back belonged to some celebrity and are set to be sold off to the highest bidder. If that weren’t a selling point before, it could be now—everything itemized and tagged as having been worn by Sam Wilson, the Falcon, the Man Who Wouldn’t Be Captain America.

In the short silence, Sam feels himself beginning to frown, but he’s just the right side of buzzed to prevent those thoughts from dragging him down. He’s a cheerful drunk. Always has been. A hugger, a giggler, a piggyback ride-giver in his younger years.

“Do you think she’s doing alright?” Bucky asks, forever ready to be morose. “Sharon?” Sam wants to stick his finger in the indentation between Bucky’s eyebrows and wiggle it until the seriousness drops from his face. He wants to smooth his thumb over Bucky’s chin, wipe out the memory of Zemo’s touch when he offered Bucky to Selby like a thing instead of a human being. “I know she took your deal, a favour for a favour, but I’ve been trying to work out what my debt to her is. My notebook—”

“There’s no math for it, Buck,” Sam says. Though his tone is lazy, his words are certain. “Who owes what to who. We just have to make it right.” Mildly annoyed that he’s been drawn back into a heavy conversation, he sighs and slings his foot up to rest his ankle on his opposite knee. The movement bumps Bucky’s thigh momentarily. “Think I might owe Sharon a little less now that she made me wear a turtleneck to that party.”

Bucky snorts a laugh. Sam turns his head and gives him the finger, though he’s also smiling.

“I’m laughing at what you said,” Bucky claims, “not the shirt. You coulda picked something else.”

“It’s black and doesn’t have a pattern. After that Smiling Tiger getup, I felt like being inconspicuous, ok?”

“Ok. You don’t need my approval.”

“You’re damn right I don’t,” Sam agrees, still grinning.

“Suits you,” Bucky half-mumbles.

Sam huffs from his nose, all his laughter in that puff of air as he faces forward again, then tips his head back to check out Sharon’s high ceiling. With nothing but night through the tall windows and the room under-illuminated by the two lamps either left on by their host or switched on by Bucky, the ceiling’s dark grey instead of white. Shadowy. Unlike the menacing shadows that seemed to stretch after them on the streets of Low Town, sending an unpleasant tickle up the back of Sam’s neck, these are soft. It’s a surprisingly peaceful end to the day, considering what the past 24 hours have encompassed. Suddenly, Sam feels as though he’s been awake a long, long time. Doesn’t mean he’s ready to sleep yet.

“So,” he says, “downstairs. Why’d you leave? Most date-like thing we’ve done yet and I tear my eyes away from the trainwreck of Zemo’s dancing to find you gone.”

“The noise, the crowd, Zemo,” Bucky emphasizes, “like you said.”

“You brought him.”

“I know, I just…” Bucky slumps forward and hangs his head, hands clasped between his knees. He turns pained eyes on Sam and Sam moves his hand from the back of the couch to Bucky’s shoulder. From there to his upper back. From a grounding pressure to a gentle rub. Just a couple times, but he doesn’t pull away, perennially touchy when less than sober. “I don’t want him to control me.”

“He doesn’t,” Sam says firmly. “You were yourself at Selby’s.”

“His version of me. I don’t like the reminder. I don’t want to find out if I’d do it again, in that crowd of people, attack someone just because he told me to.”

“Of course you wouldn’t. I’m trusting you not to.”

“Is that smart?” Bucky asks, expression raw. Sam can feel the heat of his back through his shirt.

“It’s not totally smart. Can’t be, with you involved.”

Bucky rolls his eyes and smiles and Sam wants to cheer.

“I don’t know about that date,” Bucky says lightly, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he leans back into the couch once more. It was a t-shirt under that jacket of his and Sam’s gaze slides to his arms, trying to look without looking. Only because the Vibranium one isn’t on display a lot. That’s all.

“Oh, here we go.”

Sam’s amazed at how his complaint sounds in this room, in this light, on this couch. Like the ceiling, it’s soft.

“It was too loud.”

“The last thing you called a date was a fight on the top of a truck speeding down a highway. Wasn’t exactly quiet.”

“Well,” Bucky tries again, “there were too many people.”

“Again, extra people weren’t a problem last time. Half a dozen Flag-Smashers, as I recall.”

“That was fun and all—”

“Which part?” Sam asks, smiling. “The part where you got hurled into a windshield by the woman you’d assumed was a hostage? Yeah, that part was fun for me too.”

“Can it.”

Bucky accompanies the words with a look that Sam could pick out a mile away as fake-grumpy. It cracks him up and he lifts his hand from Bucky’s back to shove his arm as he laughs.

“You called tonight a date,” Bucky says suddenly.

“No, I said… I said…” Sam squints at nothing as he retrieves his words in his mind. “Date-like.”

“Zemo got in my head and I got in yours.”

Instead of saying this miserably, Bucky looks quietly smug at his joke. Sam needs to set him straight; of course he didn’t think tonight was a date. With a massive bounty on their heads at the other end of Madripoor? With Zemo the third wheel always only an arm’s length away? And the current circumstances are beside the point because, fundamentally, Sam doesn’t know whether or not Bucky’s been joking from the start. Intentionally wrong-footing him, messing with him, like they’ve been doing as long as they’ve known each other.

“You’ve definitely done something,” Sam volunteers.

It’s his fourth drink talking, or maybe the fucking pickled snake organ he forced himself to swallow earlier. His jaw clenches fleetingly at the memory. Sarah’s gonna laugh her ass off when he tells her. Should be enough to balance out whatever ire she’ll be sending his way for that dumb shit he said about laundering money. Although she’ll get that he only said it to avoid getting shot (he won’t tell her how narrow that success was), she still won’t be thrilled that he made himself out to be a criminal. It’s the furthest thing from the kind of people the Wilsons are. He could always point a finger at how Bucky behaved—dropping everyone who ran at him with icily efficient twists and kicks—but he knows how Sarah would look at him, what she’d be thinking. That he and Bucky aren’t held to the same standard, externally or internally. That he talks about Bucky too often, so often that if he let his sister in on this stupid running joke they have about their ops being dates, she’d take it all wrong, think this was something serious and inevitable.

Sam swallows and laces his fingers together in his lap so he won’t reach out for Bucky again.

“I know I should’ve let you in on the plan to spring Zemo from prison,” Bucky says. Oh, he thinks Sam’s words were a subtle criticism, not an admission. That’s… good.

“But?”

“No excuses,” Bucky promises, stretching his neck from side to side. “I shoulda told you. Once I explained it, you would’ve seen that I was right and agreed with me.”

Sam gives the side of Bucky’s head a hard stare until he catches the smirk hiking his lips up on one side.

“Wow,” Sam says dryly, “that was almost you taking responsibility.”

“I take responsibility all the time.”

“The notebook, right?”

“Yeah. Can’t believe Zemo put his fuckin’ hands on something so private, but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“I get that it’s private,” Sam assures him, “but you can tell me shit. If you want.”

Bucky’s folded arms loosen and he shoots Sam a sideways glance that scans all over his face, measuring, cataloguing, computing with that cyborg brain Sam teases him about. Sam blinks back. He means it, and he meant it before when he said he’s trusting Bucky.

“Feels a little one-sided,” Bucky says.

“That’s because you won’t come home with me to meet Sarah and the boys. You already got your invitation into my personal life, you just haven’t used it.”

“We’ve been a little busy, Sam.”

Sam sighs loudly and pushes his sleeves up his arms against the warmth of the room.

“You can make time. Once we’re not on Zemo’s schedule.”

“He was supposed to be on ours,” Bucky mutters. “I don’t know how that happened.”

“It happened because you’re an idiot who didn’t tell me the plan.”

“It’s my fault we keep getting shot at.”

Sam ignores that, the happy looseness surging up inside him battling the gravity of Bucky’s self-pity.

“It’s your fault if you didn’t like the date,” he counters. “You got Zemo out of Germany, Zemo brought us to Madripoor. Low Town, Selby, Sharon—all that happened as a consequence. You didn’t like tonight’s date? That’s on you.”

“Date-like,” Bucky corrects with a sly smile. “The noise and the fighting last time were fine—”

“Were they?!”

“—I just thought the next date should be different.”

Sam laughs softly because this isn’t the first time Bucky’s made this sound like more than a joke, but it is the first time he’s done this at night. And without Sam’s sister and nephews in the next room, or the potential for anybody to drive past them on a country road that runs alongside untidy fields, but when they’re truly alone.

“How so?” Sam asks, heart pumping like the bass in the basement, where the party’s carrying on without the two of them.

Bucky loosens his arms even more, until his forearms rest on his thighs, until—when he rocks to the side, repositioning to face Sam—he can rest one on the back of the couch where Sam’s used to be. His hand hangs down and his fingers skim Sam’s shoulder.

“More private,” Bucky confesses.

“I didn’t know that’s what you wanted,” Sam says with an easy laugh because Bucky’s face is still a little too stern, but that could be self-consciousness. “Tell me how to get more than four stars, man.”

“And you’ll do it?”

“Depends. Try me,” he blurts.

He watches Bucky’s face pinch in then relax, going especially slack at the mouth, which gets closer when Bucky angles into his space. Sam’s fingers release and his back straightens as he shifts to square his body to Bucky’s. They’ve done something like this before, locked into stubborn, confrontational posture when Bucky makes Sam’s life difficult by refusing to go along with what he says, but not this. Not this exactly.

Sam doesn’t stiffen or jerk away, so Bucky keeps coming.

“Are you…?” Bucky asks, eyelashes fluttering as his lids raise and lower, looking from Sam’s eyes to his lips. “Is this…?”

Always talking.

Tilting his head and closing his eyes, Sam stamps his mouth to Bucky’s. He goes to break away after a few stunned seconds, but then Bucky’s hand lands on the back of his neck—warm; not the metal one—to hold them together. Sam meets Bucky’s seeking tongue with his own and feels scruff against his face as their mouths test and react to each other. Reflexively, Sam grips the front of Bucky’s tight, black t-shirt. The kiss is quick and feverish and, when Bucky’s fingers untense on his neck, Sam rests his face against Bucky’s.

He wouldn’t say he’s scared to move, but he’s wary. He can’t tell if they’ve fucked up their whole dynamic or taken it, at last, to a level it was always going to reach. Raising a hand to pat the side of his head and check that his goggles are in place, Sam stops, remembering he won’t feel the strap because he’s not in the air. It’s been a while since he felt lightheaded on the ground.

He clears his throat and draws back. Bucky starts to remove his hand from Sam’s neck, but Sam reaches up to keep it there. He juts his chin out challengingly as he holds Bucky’s eyes, thinking, for a second, of their joint session with Dr. Raynor.

“What’s the verdict?” Sam demands.

Bucky stares back solemnly.

“Four and a half.”

“I’m leaving you here in Madripoor,” Sam declares, pointing a finger down at Bucky’s abruptly and broadly grinning face as he pushes up from the couch.

He strides over to Sharon’s crystal decanters, laughing to himself and looking for water. There isn’t any, but she does have an insulated canister of dissolving ice cubes. Sam scoops a few into a tumbler and turns back to look silently at Bucky. He cups the base of the glass in his hot palm. Slowly, the ice starts to melt.

[heyyy-hey-babyyy]

When We Were Young (Part IV)

Dean x Fem!Reader; Sam x Fem!Reader (platonic)

Read part I here ; Read part II here ; Read part III here

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of trauma/abuse, brief moments of self-harm, mentions of anxiety attack, a little dirty (not quite smut, but a bit steamy). 

Summary: Dean, Sam, and Y/N grew up together, but when she’s taken away for over 10 years, the boys have no idea what she’s been through. Will asking her to move into the bunker with them reveal more than she’s ready for?

2359 words

You tensed, anticipating the conclusion of the story and suddenly afraid of how Dean would react to what you were about to say. You took a deep breath before speaking.

“And when Greg opened the closet door and pulled back the blanket, I emptied the clip into his chest.”

It was deafening in the bedroom as you let the words you had never spoken out loud ring out and coat the empty spaces around you, never to be forgotten again. Dean hadn’t spoken, and you suddenly felt exhausted, reliving the darkest moment of your life. He still held you tight in his arms, but he was no longer comforting you, merely laying still as you pressed against his chest breathing him in. You couldn’t decide if you were worried for his reaction, or if you were relishing in the silence and warmth of his hold, but either way you were becoming anxious the longer he didn’t speak. 

Dean cleared his throat lightly, and you chanced glancing up at him. He wasn’t looking directly at you, but seemed to be lost in a memory for the moment. You curled back into his chest, and he tightened his hold, before you heard his voice, gruff from not being used. 

“When I was maybe, I don’t know, thirteen, fourteen, I killed my first vampire. She was young and dad decided I was old enough to go head to head with her because we were roughly the same size.” He huffed out a brief laugh. “Looking back it seems really messed up, but I was itching to get more into the hunt and this became the only way for me to prove it to my father.” He stopped, and it was your turn to try to comfort him, reaching up to run your fingers across his shoulders and you felt him relax a bit, letting out a deep breath he must have been holding. 

“Anyway, I took out the vamp no problem, and remember dad clapping me on the back, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of the vamp’s head. She hadn’t even barred fangs, and honestly looked just like a normal teenage girl, but one that I had just beheaded.” You continued lightly massaging his shoulders as you took comfort in the rumble of his voice against your cheek. “The image haunted me for weeks and after I woke dad up one night screaming in my sleep he sat down with me and instead of giving me the ‘she’s a monster, get over it’ talk he said something that I think about often.” Dean seemed to be completely lost in thought, and though you weren’t sure why he was telling you this, you listened intently, like he had just done for you. 

“He told me, ‘Dean, she was doing bad things. Yes, she was young, but sometimes people can’t come back from tasting a little bit of the darkness.’” 

You stopped moving your hands and he pulled you softly away from his chest and you looked into bright green eyes that seemed to glow in the dark. 

“Y/N.” He began, his tone growing serious. You shrunk back a little against his hold, afraid of what he was about to say. “Hey,” he softened, pulling you closer again so he could rub his hands up and down your arms. “Look at me.” You glanced back into his eyes as he continued speaking. “Some people can’t come back from the darkness.” 

Dean made everything seem so easy, and for a second you believed him. Perhaps you really could stop drowning in the guilt of what you did. But you shook your head at him with finality breaking your eye contact. You could never be forgiven for taking another human’s life. And you had too many secrets to ever live life like a normal person. Way too many skeletons in the closet. In that moment you felt profound guilt and sadness at the direction of your life. Sure, you were now in the arms of the man you had been in love with since before you even knew what love was, but he didn’t know anything about your life now. 

Dean saw the way you were reacting to his words. The way your mind was taking you from hope to guilt to sadness to absolute dread. He knew you thought you could hide from him, but he spent the better part of his childhood learning how to read the nerdy short girl who sometimes hung out with him at Bobby’s. And he could still read you like a book. 

“Hey, stop avoiding me, and look at me.” He said it with the tone that didn’t leave room for argument and you glanced up slowly. “You did what you had to do to protect yourself. That’s what your dad, my dad, and Bobby always taught us. Remember, ‘shoot first and ask questions later.’“ He smiled at you softly and you couldn’t help but smile back, feeling the memory pull at you. 

When you found yourself alone with Dean on endless nights when you were younger, waiting for your dad’s to return, you used to come up with outrageous situations that you both could maybe find yourselves in and the other would respond simply with ‘shoot first. Ask questions later.’ It was stupid and bordering on morbid, but it always made you laugh, and Dean would stare at you until your fits of giggles stopped. In those moments, you always felt like maybe Dean felt for you just as much as you felt for him. But you were just his friend who he would hang out with at Bobby’s. Not girlfriend material. And you were taken from the boys young anyway, shattering any hope of what could have been. And Greg successfully shattered any hope of you being comfortable with another human being. 

Dean saw it happening again. The way you went from joy to guilt to sadness to dread. It broke his heart to not know what was happening in your head. Whatever you were telling yourself to give you such a hopeless look. He wanted more than anything to take away your pain, but he had no idea where to even start. 

You coughed lightly, pulling away from his arms. “Uh, can we just go to bed, Dean? I’m tired and,” you stopped glancing at his bedside clock, “it’s nearly 4:00am.” He nodded softly, and you turned away in the opposite direction, pulling the comforter up to your chin, though you weren’t even remotely tired. You were too stuck in your own head, imagining what could have been if you hadn’t been taken away all those years ago. You were never one for coulda woulda shoulda, but laying this close to Dean had you feeling all kinds of ways and it was hard not to want so much of what you couldn’t have. You had been laying silent for a few moments, when you felt Dean shift slightly. 

“Hey,” he whispered, gauging if you were asleep. You turned your head back toward him, glancing into his eyes. “Uh,” he looked awkward and it made you smile. “Would it be okay, if I held you, Y/N? Just for tonight.” You were a bit shocked by his question, being that you had just been thinking about him, but you nodded, realizing quickly how much you wanted him close again. You turned back to your side away from him, and felt one arm snake under your head laying against the pillow, and the other crawl across your waist pulling you flush against him. He sighed contentedly, and you allowed yourself to breath normally, even though your body was trembling slightly and your breathing was a little erratic. 

Being this close to him, it was impossible to hide the way your body was reacting, and you felt him pull away from you a bit, but you grabbed his arm and placed it on your hip again. This is what you wanted. It’s Dean. He would never hurt you. You told yourself over and over to calm you racing heart. Besides, Greg never cuddled with you. 

“Are you sure you’re alright, baby?” Dean whispered, his breath tickling the hair by your ear, making your body tense up again. But you nodded placing your hand on his on your hip, and moving it further down your stomach. Dean let you guide his hand and when it landed in a comfortable place, you proceeded to run your fingers up and down his arm. A memory of Dean flashed across your eyes as you did this. 

You were playing some racing game that you were horrible at and he knew it, so of course he wanted to place a bet. You were no punk, so you agreed, sitting up a bit straighter as the cars raced around the tracks for their practice run before you pressed the start button. 

“If I win,” you started, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth in thought. “I get to ride in the front seat of the Impala the next time John takes us into town!” You didn’t really care about riding up front, but you knew it drove Dean insane to be in the back, and if you were up front you could play Dixie Chicks and Dean would have to shut up about it. 

He sighed dramatically, but agreed. “Okay, then if I win...” He trailed off trying to look deep in thought, but you knew him better than that. He was embarrassed, and you got serious thinking ‘what could he possibly be embarrassed to ask for?’

“If I win, I want you to do that arm scratching thing you do when you’re nervous, to distract yourself... I love that.” You stared at him stupidly in response, but nodded anyway. You always thought he thought that was annoying when you’d be watching a horror movie and you’d grab his arm and move your fingers up and down the smooth skin as a distraction. You hated the feeling yourself, but he never stopped you, so you figured he was just humoring you. 

Dean shrugged like it was no big deal and nodded back, looking toward the game, knowing he was going to win, and smiling to himself. 

You kept moving up and down his arm and Dean sighed into your hair. “I love this.” He whispered softly, almost as if he didn’t mean to. You smiled nodding that you knew. Dean leaned his head down to rest on your shoulder and he lightly kissed the open patch of skin on your collar bone, losing himself for a moment. You breathed out a little in surprise, and he felt you tense, moving his head back. “Sorry.” He whispered quickly, but you shook your head in response. 

“I liked it...” You whispered back, moving your hand to entangle your fingers with his on your waist, and he pulled you closer gripping you to him. His head returned and he placed another chaste kiss against your neck making goosebumps appear across your skin. He nuzzled into your neck lightly and you giggled involuntarily, nervous suddenly and he placed another kiss against your collarbone before speaking. 

“It broke my heart to let you leave...” He trailed off, lost in thought as you took in his words. “I begged my dad for months to take you back, but we couldn’t find you. It was like the system ate you up. I’m so sorry, baby. I should have saved you.” You shook your head at his last words, not wanting any of this to be his fault. Besides, after Greg, you didn’t want to be found. You wanted to tell him it wasn’t his fault and that you had disappeared for years after the shooting, but he released your hand suddenly, moving his hand back over your stomach. Your shirt had rode up a bit and you felt the pads of Dean’s fingers glide smoothly across your exposed skin. You had never been touched so gently, and though it brought up feelings you hadn’t felt in years, you knew Dean wasn’t pressuring you into anything, but rather comforting you and letting you know you are wanted. The thought made you choke up, and Dean held you close to him. 

“Lets sleep. We can talk more tomorrow.” You nodded, and snuggled closer, relaxing as Dean’s fingers danced across your skin, and the sound of him humming “Let it Be” lightly into your ear soothed you into a dreamless sleep. 

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

It was well after noon and you were still fast asleep. Dean had pulled away from you gently around 9:00am and was returning now to check on you. He pulled the door closed, leaving it open a crack so he could hear if you called for him, when Sam came up next to him. 

“Hey,” He whispered. “How is she? How did last night go?” 

Dean put a finger to his lips and motioned for his brother to follow him into the bathroom across the hall. He closed the door and sat down with a huff on the toilet seat, Sam perching on the side of the bathtub. 

It took a few seconds for Dean to decide what he wanted to tell Sam, but his brother was ever patient waiting for Dean to say what he needed to. 

“Some awful stuff happened to her when she was taken into foster care after her dad died, Sammy...” Sam nodded looking up at his brother, remembering how chaotic things were after the social worker barged into Bobby’s house and took you out screaming for Dean along the way. Dean refused to stop looking for you and it was almost a year later when he finally resigned to returning to hunt with his dad and taking care of Sam again. 

Dean slammed his hand down loudly on the sink, and pulled it back quickly, straining to hear if he woke you. He didn’t hear anything so he turned back to Sam confessing what was weighing deep on his soul. 

“I don’t know what to do.” He stated simply.

Sam narrowed his eyes in confusion. “What do you mean?” Dean looked up at him with sorrow in his eyes.

“I love her, Sammy.”

Read part V here.

When We Were Young Tag list: @vicmc624​ 

[idreamofhazeleyes]

Burnout

Burnout

Tags: @optimisticpeacecollector5 @mrswhozeewhatsis @squirrelnotsam @impala-dreamer @idreamofplaid @cloverhighfive @mariekoukie6661 @myinconnelly1

Summery: You’ve been busting ass in recent hunts and finally reach a burnout point. Dean finds you mid panic attack in the bathroom. 

Pairing: Dean x Reader, Sam

Word Count: 1348

Warnings: Nudity, panic attack, canon blood and gore. Also my first oneshot and 2nd pov.

You half stumble into the Bunker from the garage, feeling all sorts of drained from back to back to back cases in the past month. More physical and mentally exhausted from the first few; more emotional from the last one. That one … didn’t end well. Now you were looking forward to a hot shower, maybe a long soak in a bath, and three days worth of sleep.

“Hey, y/n. You’re back,” Sam said, nearly running into you with a duffel bag in hand. “We got word from Jody about a case, and could use the help.”

You weren’t sure what response you gave the younger Winchester before he headed the way you came from. All you could do was focus on getting to your room for a change of clothes then to the bathroom you claimed for yourself. The boys had the entire Bunker to roam. And there had been nights where you’d with either one on the nights where the monsters were more mental than real for either one of you.

Yet the bathroom you claimed was sacrosanct; not to be entered by either brother or the angel. Especially now. Dean’s voice carried from somewhere in the Bunker calling for Sam. You ignored the call, if you got distracted now all motivation to get clean was gone.

Your duffel bag thumped to the floor just out of the way when you reached your room as you moved for the dresser. Oversized tee shirt, sweats, and clean underwear in hand, were freed within seconds or thought to what you wanted to wear. You were back out in the hallway and feet from the bathroom when voices carried from the war room. Too soft due to the distance for you to make out, but the feeling that they were talking about you seeped in. If you could just make it to the bathroom and close the door, it’ll be fine.

The water from the shower head just started flowing before there was a knock at the door.

“Y/N, we could use some help on this case,” Dean’s muffle voice said.

You brace your shaking arms against the sink trying to fight back the tears. There wasn’t a chance in hell you’d be able to go back out; not after coming back from being on the road for a month. Nope, not dealing with Dean once he got into hunter mode. You hoped if you didn’t respond, he’d go away. Another knock came just as a chill ran over your body and you crumbled to the floor. Your eyes closed against the slight dizziness.

“Y/N?”

The door clicked opened.

You swallow against the nausea. Hands eased you up so you were leaning between the sink and the wall.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Dean’s voice was soft; his hunter mode gone. “What’s … You okay?”

All you manage is a headshake. A cloth was dabbed over your face, wiping away the sweat.

“I … No,” you finally manage.

The cloth was pulled away as you open your eyes to see Dean kneeling in front of you. It brought forth memories of when you two first met; though that time was more of you actually vomiting from the blood and adrenaline and stress than a panic attack. Some how after your first hunt, the two of you were just as joined at the hip as he and Sam were. There was something about the older Winchester that you just couldn’t put a finger on that helped keep the monsters away most nights.

If Dean was there with you, things must be okay enough that you weren’t in serious danger. Other than the burnout and panic attack you were having.

“We don’t need to take the case,” he said. “I’ll have Sam call in some good hunters to take the case and we’ll stay here.”

You were ready to tell him off. They were the ones who found the case and should work it. Not some second string hunters. But he was already up and moving in the bathroom, adjusting things. You didn’t fight him. It felt nice for once to have things be done for you.

“Come on, y/n,” he said, coming back down to your level. “I’ll help you wash up.”

He tugged gently on your jacket sleeve, using gravity to pull it from your arm. Soon enough, you eased into the hot bath and settled into the tub. With your head resting on the back and eyes closed, you heard Sam’s voice before his footsteps stopped at the door. He and Dean talked just around the corner in the hall before Dean returned; closing the door behind him.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said. “We shoulda made sure you were okay first before asking for help.”

“I wanted to help, but all those hunts…” You fought back flashes of the hunts, refusing to acknowledge the faces of the victims of the last one. “I can’t. Not yet.”

Soft sounds of something hitting the water was your one sign before feeling a washcloth against your skin; wiping away the blood and gore from your body. In some part of your mind came the realization that despite what brought you into the bathroom, being tended to by your boyfriend was nice. Something that neither of you do too often.

“It’s okay, y/n,” Dean reassured you. “We don’t have to take every case that comes our way. We can’t. We shouldn’t.” He sighed. “I don’t wanna lose you.”

Your eyes opened to see his forearms resting on the edge of the tub, washcloth hanging from a hand, and Dean resting back on his heels. His head hung so he wasn’t looking at you. He looked just as tired if not more as you felt. A hand reached out to his, holding onto it as you shifted in the water.

“You won’t,” you promise. “You’re the guys that taught me how to fight to stay alive. Gave me a reason to keep going.”

His gaze lifted, dark jade eyes meeting y/e/c ones. There was something behind those eyes that drew you in and didn’t want to let you go. “You can’t…”

“You keep going, I will,” you cut him off. “Just … stay with me.”

A half smirk pulled at his lips. “As much as I enjoy this, I’m sure you’d prefer to be in dry clothes in a warm bed.” He gestured for you to duck under water; rinsing off the shampoo and whatever was in your hair.

The water started draining before you reluctantly pulled yourself from the red water and into an open waiting towel held up by Dean. The two of you stand there. You wrapped by both the towel and Dean’s arms; trapping you. With a deep breath, you could smell car oil and leather – from Baby no doubt – and caramel whiskey. For some reason those scents clung to Dean no matter what.

“Come on, hon.” He pulled away and guided you to sit. “Things will be okay. We’ll take a few days and relax, just us two. Maybe get out and do normal people things.” He talked to you as he eased on your clean clothes.

“What do normal people do?” you ask.

“We’ll figure it out.” He pulled your tee shirt over your head before giving you a gentle kiss on the lips. “But you need sleep; and loads of it.”

You don’t protest when Dean eased you to your feet and into your room. The bed had been turned down and a youtube video of ocean waves was playing softly. Sam must have done this while Dean was taking care of you. You made a mental note to thank him for it later.

Slipping in under the covers, you get comfortable even as Dean shed most of his clothes, leaving his boxers on. He slid in and pulled the covers over the both of you before pulling you in close; holding you against him. His breath and steady heartbeat adding comfort that you needed.

“I’m here, love,” was the last thing you remember hearing before passing into slumber.

[myblueeyedbuggers]

My Boys

Chapter 7

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14

Pairings: Reader x Steve Rogers (best friend) Reader x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 1780

Warnings: Slow Start, Language, Tiny bit of Fluff

Summary: After being abandoned by her parents in Brooklyn in 1929, y/n makes a living for herself by working for the Црни лабуд gang until she meets two boys in a back alley and her life slowing begins to change

Hi again, so yesterday definitely didn’t go plan at all, I was caught up in way too much work and by the time I’d finished it all it was 4 in the morning and I had to get up at 6 for college. My apologies for the lack of a chapter yesterday, hopefully this was worth the wait though :) Enjoy Everyone!

Readers POV

It was sometime in the early morning when Becca same flying into my room, I could feel my mood change from one of complete and utter boredom to one of happiness, I swear down this little girl could manage to make the grim reaper smile. Her black hair bounced behind her as she hurried to climb up the bed, instantly crushing me with a tight hug, “Y/n! I missed you so much! I’m sorry for not coming sooner but Mama and Papa said you needed more time to rest” her bright eyes glossed over as she rushed out her apology.

I actually felt my heart clench at her words, which to be honest was a bit concerning, her little face scrunched up into a frown and I instantly pulled her into a hug, “Sweetie there’s nothing you need to say sorry for, if anything I should be saying sorry for leaving you for so long with those silly boys! I can’t imagine how bad they must have smelled! Oh, my lord I’m feeling faint even thinkin’ about it!”. Instantly the frown on her little face vanished, her giggles echoed in my ear as she fell backwards onto the bed clutching her stomach, my smile was almost wide as Bucky’s ego. Almost.

Once she’d managed to calm down enough, Becca crawled back up the bed and climbed under the covers before cuddling up next to me, my arm instantly wound around the younger girl as I placed a small kiss on her hair and in that moment, I felt at ease, finally complete as the little girl cuddled further into my side.

Mrs Barnes POV (Surprise!)

A gentle smile spread across my face as I watched my girls, both excitedly chatting back and forth about their favourite things, the half-completed scarf forgotten to me as my mind wandered to the talk George and myself had last night. Both of us agreed that we would never be able to pay y/n back for protecting our boys, but we both noticed one particular trait about her, she tended to protect everyone but herself. It was almost as if she valued everyone else’s life above her own, it made me worry about what she’s had to have gone through to value herself at such a low rate, maybe it’s my motherly side coming out but there’s this constant urge to protect her. The knowledge of her not having a family weighed heavily on both my soul and my heart, even thinking about it broke my heart, and that’s when George and I made our decision. We wanted her to be apart of our family, protect her in the same way she tried to protect both our family and our boys, after everything the poor girls been through it’s the very least we could do.

After a while I noticed the room was unusually silent, my head turned towards the girls and my eyes were met with a sight that made me want to weep with joy, both of them had fallen asleep, Y/n’s arms were wound around Becca protectively as the younger girl cuddled closer to y/n’s side. I kept my gaze on the girls, committing the moment to my memory as my heart swelled with delight, a wide smile played on my lips as I picked up the scarf started to work on it determined to give y/n a welcoming gift.

Time Skip

Steve’s POV

“Yeah sure Buck, like I actually believe that!” Bucky was goin’ on about he fought off 10 guys at once in school today, the way he was tellin’ it had me in stiches as he claimed he “knocked em down with the strength of the devil” before finishing the fight with fireworks goin’ off behind him. “I’m bein’ serious Stevie! You shoulda seen their faces when I pulled out my sword and started chasing em…how much of this you belivin’?” he finally stopped his rambling when he glanced at my face, completely blank as I looked at him with my eyebrows raised.

Seconds of silence passed, “You can’t letta a guy be dramatic for one second?!”, I’ll admit I didn’t expect him to fall to the floor and start waving his arms and legs about while cryin’ about me bein’ a spoil sport, but I’d be lyin’ if I said I wasn’t funny. I was doubled over with laughter, nearly crying as I joined Buck on the floor, the pair of us struggling to breath from laughing so hard.

The sound of a door opening along with an exasperated sigh made us both shut up immediately, glancing up I was met with the sight of Mama Barnes, a small smile on her face as she looked at the both of us expectedly, waitin’ for us to get off the floor. “Normally I would ask both of you what on the name of earth you were doin’ on the floor, but I’ve seen you do some stupider things so at this point I’m not surprised”. Buck shared a look with me before facing his mama, a sheepish grin on his face as he tried to explain why we were acting dumb, Mama just shook her head at us and ushered us inside y/n’s room, tellin’ us to keep quiet.

3rd Person POV

Both boys entered the room, softly shutting the door behind them as they turned around, neither expecting to see the sight before them, Bucky and Steve’s younger sister was curled up next to y/n, both girls had a relaxed, peaceful expression on their faces. The blankets were wrapped around them both, the younger of the two using the older girls chest as a pillow shifting slightly as the older pulled her closer to her side, unconsciously wrapping both the blanket and her arms around her in a bid to keep her warm.

Soft smiles graced the lips of both boys, watching the two girls as they slept peacefully, the blonde-haired boy noticing the older girl shiver a tiny bit from the change in temperature, as quietly as possible he made his way towards them. Carefully, he unwrapped a small part of the blanket from the younger girl and repositioned it over the two of them equally, tucking the edges into the bed frame before glancing behind him at his friend.

The boy with the brown hair hadn’t moved an inch, his entire body refusing to move in case the sight in front of him suddenly disappeared. His blue eyes never left the face of the older girl, taking in her immense beauty was enough to stun him for hours, his gaze roamed over her face in a leisurely way, absorbing how perfect she looked when sleeping. Any attempt to gain his attention failed, his mind too clouded with the image of her, a soft warm feeling settled in his heart, growing stronger with every second he stared at her.

Once the blonde-haired boy realised that he wasn’t gaining the attention of his friend anytime soon, he followed his friends line of sight, letting out a small chuckle as he turned his head towards the boy’s mother, sharing a small knowing smile as she watched her son from the corner of her eye.

Time Skip

Readers POV

The veil of sleep slowly cleared from my mind, hushed voices grabbed my attention as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, my eyes made contact with Mr and Mrs Barnes, the sound of the lads doing somethin’ stupid filled the background. Both of the parents smiled at me, I wanted to sit up but Becca was still asleep, and I couldn’t find it in my heart to disturb her from sleep, “Y/n, sweetheart, the doctor came in while you girls were sleeping, he said that you’ll be able to leave tomorrow after a few more check ups and tests, and we wanted to ask you somethin’.” I felt my head tilt to the side in confusion, maybe it was about the medical bills, I mean a stunt like this couldn’t have been cheap…

“Sweetie, we were wondering if you’d like to join our family, there is nothing in this world we could offer or do to thank you for protecting our family, so we only ask that you let us return the favour and protect you.”

I could feel my jaw drop to the floor, my eyes watered with tears as I nodded my head frantically and pulled them both into a hug, crying into Mrs Barnes’s chest while thanking her over and over again. The bed dipped even more as two more pairs of arms joined the hug, the hole in my soul left as I came to the realisation that I finally had a family to call my own, a sudden shout of excitement broke us all out of the hug as Becca tackled my side, knocking me flat out on my back.

“I FINALLY HAVE A SISTER! YAY! MAMA I HAVE A SISTER!” Becca’s joyful cries made us all laugh, quickly clambering off me she started running ‘round the room, only stoppin’ to do the odd celebration dance. A tap on shoulder distracted me from Becca’s antics, “So how’s it feels to be apart of the Barnes Clan?” Steve’s face met mine with a joyful smile, I not so subtly rolled my eyes at him before bumping my shoulder with his, “Thought I joined the clan the minute your friend over there carried my ass to the front door”.

Steve let out a small snicker as Bucky’s head shot up as he playfully glared at the pair of us, choosing to make his way over while his parents were distracted with Becca, “What was that Doll? From what I remembered I oh so bravely carried you to my home while you pelted with punches and cute little threats” excuse me, CUTE ?! there is nothing cute about me threatening to rip your soul outta your body Barnes!

A cocky smirk appeared on his lips as I narrowed my eyes at him, “you do realise that you’re now stuck with me now Barnes? If I was you I’d be sleeping with one eye open” outta the corner of my eye I saw Steve bring a hand up to his face and cover it while shaking his head, since when did that bugger get sassy?! Instead of taking my threat seriously, Bucky smiles as his puts his arm around me with a shit-eating grin on his face, “You know you love me doll, heck how could ya not look at this face!” now it was my turn to facepalm.

What the hell did I just agree to?!

Things have finally started looking up for the reader! Thanks for Reading :)

Rose xx

[slashthedice]

Dirty Talk - Frisky February, Day 1

I chose DBD Ghostface for the first day of our frisky little event. Today’s prompt seemed right up his alley. This takes place before the Entity’s realm. Obviously NSFW!

It had started as little more than a passing interest. He was new to your neighborhood, unloading boxes and a suitcase from a used Ford Taurus. It wasn’t often someone new moved to your sleepy little neighborhood, and even less often that they were younger than 75 and didn’t come with some sort of live-in aid, but this new guy seemed to be a man in his prime. If you had had to guess, you would have placed him somewhere between 32 and 37 years old, average height, average weight. He had dark hair that was somewhat disheveled from the move, and even from your front stoop as you shuffled your groceries around to get your keys you could see the shadow or scratchy stubble on his chin and jaw.

You watched him stumble over the curb as he struggled to see around a box so comically large that you fleetingly wondered how he fit it in his little sedan at all. You shoved your keys in the lock, yanked your door open, and placed your paper grocery bags just inside before bounding out the door and across your yard towards the struggling man. He didn’t see you approach, and you heard him grunt as he adjusted his grip.

“Here, let me help,” you called, sliding in behind the box and taking some of its weight.

“Thanks,” he chirped, craning his neck to see who his rescuer was. “Shoulda used a smaller box.”

His voice was rough, strained from the effort, but not nearly so much as you would have expected. You felt him adjust the weight before pushing onwards. The two of you maneuvered the box up the porch steps and you nudged the front door open with your hip.

“Where do you want it?” You asked, looking around the barren entryway.

“Here’s fine.”

The box thumped against the hardwood floor, settling itself with the sound of worn cardboard and crinkling of whatever he had used to pack the items held within.

“It’s been a while since we had anyone new in the neighborhood,” you said with a friendly smile.

You saw the corner of his mouth quirk upwards and he chuckled, but his eyes remained locked on you. “My job tends to take me interesting places. What’s your name?”

You introduced yourself, asking his forgiveness for the oversight. “And what about you? What’s your name?”

“Jed Olsen.”

“What sort of job brings you to Roseville of all places, Jed?” The way you asked was light, teasing. It wasn’t every day a handsome man moved in next door.

His eyes flickered across your features, and if you hadn’t known better you would have thought you saw his lopsided smile falter. Just as quickly, however, the good natured smirk and lighthearted air returned. “Roseville Gazette. I’m a reporter.”

In a moment of boldness, you quickly offered, “If you want to grab dinner or something sometime, I’d be happy to show you around.”

You felt your cheeks flair with heat as soon as the words left your mouth. The guy hadn’t even moved in yet and here you were asking him to dinner. Smooth. Real smooth.

Jed licked his lips, and you wondered if it was from nerves or anticipation. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

Your relationship with Jed Olsen was a whirlwind. Everything happened so fast you could hardly keep up. One night you were taking him to the little mom-and-pop Italian restaurant on the corner of mainstreet, and a couple nights after you found yourself bent over the counter in his newly unpacked kitchen clinging to whatever you could as he thrust into you from behind. Before you knew it, evenings such as that had become a regular occurrence.

A few weeks later, you were home alone when the phone rang. You glanced at the clock beside your bed, groaning when you saw that it was a quarter to midnight. Who in their right mind would call at this hour?

“Hello?” You answered, barely withholding the annoyance that threatened to bleed into your voice.

“Hmmm,” a familiar voice purred. “You sound tired.”

You couldn’t help the smile that split your face. “That’s what happens when strange men call me in the middle of the night.”

“Ouch.”

“So,” you sighed. “What’re you up to? Breaking news?”

“I was thinking about you.”

You felt your heart skip a beat. “Were you?”

You heard him groan, the sound sending sparks to your core. “I was thinking about that pretty mouth of yours.”

You swallowed thickly, feeling that oh so familiar heat pooling between your legs.

Jed didn’t wait for your response. “I was thinking about throwing you down on your bed and fucking you until you can’t walk tomorrow.”

He finished the sentiment with a throaty moan and your mind was more than happy to conjure images of him in that beat up recliner of his, with the phone tucked between his ear and shoulder and a hand around his cock. You slid a hand down your abdomen, sneaking it beneath the waistband of your plain cotton panties. It was almost embarrassing how wet you were after only a handful of words from him.

“Or maybe you’d like it better if I used my mouth.”

You choked on a startled gasp. “Jed…”

“Would you like that? If I put my tongue in that sweet little cunt of yours? I could eat you all day, just to make you scream. I’m going to make you come so hard, baby.”

You moaned, fingers brushing across your soaked lower lips. “Jed, please…”

“That’s right,” his breathing was heavy, weighty through the crackling phone line. “I want to hear you beg.”

“I want you. Please, Jed.”

He ignored your pleading, continuing his heated narration. “Are you touching yourself for me? Thinking about how good I can make you feel? You wish those were my fingers on your clit. Do you want me to come over there and fuck you properly, baby?”

“Mmhmm,” you hummed, the sound of your affirmation was almost a whine.

You heard him chuckle, husky rasp causing goosebumps to rise across your skin.

“Be right over.”

[hysterialevi]

His Name Was Isaac - A RDR2 Fanfic

Fanfic summary: During a mission to avenge his mother’s death, Isaac hunts down the men responsible for her murder and kills them off one-by-one, only to discover that his last target is taking refuge among the Van der Linde gang. In an attempt to kill them, Isaac attacks the gang and unknowingly becomes enemies with his own father, who is in the process of fighting his own battle for redemption.

Point of view: third-person

Author’s note: Alright guys, here’s the first part of my Isaac fic! I’m not 100% sure if I’ll continue this one so please let me know if you like it. I hope you enjoy :)

Next chapter

This story is also on AO3

AMERICA, 1907

WEST ELIZABETH

Bang.

The man collapsed to the ground.

His body twitched, his face contorted, his chest spurted blood, and within a few heartbeats... he was already gone from this world.

He was dead.

Just like that.

And soon, his friend would follow with him.

Smoking pistol in hand, his assailant cocked their firearm one last time and brought their attention to the final survivor in the room, preparing to take them out.

They crawled helplessly away from their pursuer and attempted to grab the weapon of one of their fallen comrades, only to cry out in agony when the other man pressed a boot on top of their fingers, practically grinding them to dust.

“You ungrateful son-of-a-bitch...!” The victim growled through gritted teeth, his eyes wet with tears from the pain. “I knew I shoulda killed you when Whitley first brought you here...!”

His attacker disregarded the comment and simply continued to twist their heel into his hand, causing a disgusting crack to emit from their joints.

“...You expect me to be grateful?” The other man replied, his tone low and venomous. “You signed your death warrant the minute you killed my mother all them years ago. You pieces of shit ain’t even getting a fraction of what you deserve.”

The injured man remained on the floor, his jaw tightly clenched due to the ongoing pain throbbing throughout his hand.

“We let you live...” he whispered, desperately attempting to bargain with him. “We gave you a place to stay. We kept you fed. Goddammit, Isaac -- we raised you!”

Isaac glowered at the absurd statement and knelt to the ground, making sure he was face-to-face with the other man.

“No,” he corrected. “You used me. You took everything I had and then forced me to give you more. And now...”

He applied even more pressure onto the man’s hand, causing him to start weeping.

“...you’re gonna die for it.”

Knowing there was no way he was going to talk himself out of this one, the man resorted to cowardly insults and intimidation, trying his best to scare Isaac out of going after the rest of the gang, but to no avail.

“If you’re thinkin’ about tracking Whitley down too, you can forget it. He’s already long gone. He ain’t nothin’ but a ghost nowadays.”

“You think?” Isaac said. “Well, I’m not too worried about it. I managed to track you down, didn’t I?”

His victim shook his head in anger. “It’s been ten years since Whitley left our gang, Isaac. Ten. How the hell are you gonna recognize him? You’ll never find him!”

Isaac let out a chuckle and rose from the ground, finally taking his foot off the man’s hand.

“Have no fear.” He reassured, taking aim. “I already have.”

Bang.

~~~~~~~~~~

THREE DAYS LATER

RHODES, EVENING

“Blackjack!” The dealer announced after checking his cards, earning a series of groans from the two players sat around him, along with the spectating crowd. He happily removed their chips from the betting position and retrieved their cards, stacking them proudly amongst his own.

“Alright, everyone, place your bets.” He instructed once everything had been reset.

Not too confident about his luck, the first player decided to adopt a safer strategy and presented a smaller amount of chips than the last round while the second player, Eli Whitley, decided to go higher.

He scooted the chips into the small circle drawn onto the table’s surface, biting his lip in uncertainty.

“Okay, no more bets,” the dealer said, shuffling the cards. “Let’s begin.”

Placing a total of two cards in front of each player, Whitley ended up with a six and a jack while the other received a king and a queen, leaving them in a much more favorable light than Whitley himself.

The dealer addressed Whitley first, throwing a quick glance at his cards.

“We have a sixteen.” He observed.

“Hit me.” Eli said, taking a third card. This one was an eight.

“Bust.”

Whitley sighed in disappointment upon seeing the result, leaning back as the dealer took away his chips before moving on to the next player.

“Twenty.” He noted.

The player held a hand up. “I’ll stand.”

Keeping his cards in hand, the dealer returned to his own pile and began flipping them over one by one, only to end up with a nineteen.

The second player grinned proudly at that. “Well, alright then!”

“...Dammit.” Whitley muttered to himself. Tonight was not his night.

Repeating the cycle as always, the dealer cleaned up the table once again and put everyone’s cards back into the stack while also giving out the appropriate number of chips, only to perk his head up in interest when a third man joined the game.

“Welcome, sir.” The dealer greeted.

“Evening, gentlemen.” He replied casually, settling down two seats over from where Whitley was.

The new player caught Whitley’s attention.

He appeared to be much younger than everyone else at the table, and had a head of wavy, blond hair as well as a thick layer of scruff outlining his jaw. He carried the look of someone who was no stranger to traveling around the country and also kept a beautiful revolver on his waist, allowing it to hang just beside the rim of his rugged duster coat.

Though, what really intrigued Whitley was the man’s eyes. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but there was something strangely familiar about them. Like... he had seen this man before. No names were coming to Whitley’s mind at the moment, and he was fairly certain he had never ran into this young man in the past, but everything about him just screamed, “you know me.”

Well, Whitley supposed it wouldn’t hurt to ask and turned to face the new player, curious to learn who he truly was.

“Hey there, partner.” He said, leaning forward. “Have we met before? You seem... familiar.”

The player simply carried on with the game, clearly not sharing Whitley’s sense of recognition.

“I don’t think so, mister. I’m usually pretty good at remember peoples’ faces, but...yours don’t ring any bells.”

Still, Eli was determined. “What about my name? You know anyone called Eli Whitley?”

The young man’s expression paused for a moment upon hearing his name -- as if he suddenly remembered who Whitley was -- but then returned to its natural state as he placed a small stack of chips in the betting ring.

“I’m afraid not. Sorry, mister.”

Whitley furrowed his brow in disappointment and confusion.

“Hmm... strange. Perhaps I’m mistakin’ you for someone else.”

The young man smiled in a friendly manner. “No worries. I guess I just have one of those faces.”

Letting their conversation drop there, Whitley fell back into silence as the dealer continued on with the game and began making his way around the table, starting with the new player.

“I see a twelve.” He examined.

“Hit me.”

The dealer placed another card down. “Eighteen.”

The young man held a hand up, signaling a stand. He moved on to Whitley.

“Fourteen.” He announced. Eli decided to take a risk and placed another stack of chips in the ring.

“I’ll double down.”

The dealer gave him an extra card, presenting a jack. “Bust.”

“Damn...!” Whitley cursed under his breath, shaking his head as his chips were whisked away. He could hear a few scattered moans of discouragement coming from the crowd.

“Welp...” He said with a lighthearted shrug, “I never did have much luck with gambling.”

The young man laughed softly at that and slid his cards back to the dealer.

“No, you didn’t.”

Whitley froze at the comment.

Wait, what?

What the hell was going on with this guy? Didn’t he just say that he had no idea who Whitley was? And now he was talking as if he knew him? Perhaps there was some sort of misunderstanding in their little exchange that Whitley failed to catch.

Eli jolted his head in the young man’s direction, admittedly somewhat perplexed by what was happening.

“Hang on a minute, I thought you didn’t--”

Just before he could finish speaking however, a fourth player decided to jump into the game and occupied the seat between Whitley and the blond haired man, blocking his line of sight. Eli tilted his body so that he could see around the newcomer and leaned back a tad, only to find himself staring at nothing more than an empty chair.

“What in the world...?” He murmured.

Whitley was beside himself with bewilderment.

Where did the man go? Who was he? How did he disappear so fast? Was he even real? Or did Eli just have one too many drinks tonight?

Well, whatever was going on, Whitley started to suspect that Blackjack wasn’t the only game being played. Clearly, the young man knew significantly more than he let on, and Eli was beginning to suspect that his true intentions were far from innocent.

Deciding to call it a day, Whitley returned his cards to the dealer and stood up from the table, fully determined to find that young man now. He had about a thousand questions swimming through his head at the moment, and by God was he going to get some answers.

~~~~~~~~~~

A WHILE LATER

SOMEWHERE OUTSIDE RHODES, MIDNIGHT

Squeak.

Squeak.

Squeak.

That was all Whitley could hear as his lantern swayed back and forth with his horse’s movement, causing his shadow to warp into all sorts of ominous shapes on the dirt road beneath him.

At the moment, Eli was trying to locate the young man in the fields just outside of Rhodes, but the nightfall in this area was brutal. Even with a flame to help guide the way, the darkness still managed to swallow the light of his lantern whole, and it also nearly enveloped his vision completely.

There was nothing around him except for endless fields of grass shrouded by utter blackness, and in the distance, Whitley could’ve sworn he saw an abandoned barn standing behind a misty layer of fog.

“...Jesus Christ...” He muttered, admittedly feeling on edge.

What was he doing out here? Was it even worth it to find this boy? For all Whitley knew, that young man could’ve been absolutely no one special, and he could’ve just been wasting his time out here like a complete moron, searching an answer that didn’t exist.

But no... it wasn’t that simple. It couldn’t be. It was clear that the man knew who Eli was. He knew his face. He knew his name. And somehow, he knew Eli would be in Rhodes tonight.

Whitley just had no idea how.

Pushing further into the night, Eli decided to make a beeline straight for the barn and lightly whipped the reins on his horse, urging it to go into a steady trot.

Despite all the fog surrounding the eerie structure, Whitley managed to spot the soft orange glow of another lantern sitting outside the barn’s doors, indicating that someone else might’ve been there, too.

Even if it wasn’t the young man, Whitley still felt a wave of relief rush over him nonetheless. There was no denying that these empty fields made him uneasy, and with the odd encounter he had at the Blackjack table earlier, he wanted nothing more than to return to his room until the world realigned itself.

Cautiously approaching the barn, Eli squinted through the darkness and held his lantern up a bit, hoping to catch a glimpse of what lay ahead.

Not too far away from him, it looked like there was another horse hitched by the barn’s entrance, and -- if Eli’s eyes weren’t deceiving him -- a person sitting on top of it as well. Their back was turned to Whitley at the moment, but there was no one else accompanying the stranger as far as he could tell, so he assumed it would be safe to introduce himself. Perhaps they were another lost soul, hopelessly trying to find their way around these winding meadows.

“Um, excuse me, sir?” Whitley called out, getting off his mount. “Or ma’am...?”

He walked over to the other horse, curious to see who this stranger was.

“I apologize for intruding, but I was wonderin’ if you could help me find my way back to town. It’s a hell of a lot darker out here than I first anticipated, and I seemed to have gotten myself turned around. Would you be so kind as to--”

Finally standing next to his new friend, it didn’t take long for Whitley to notice that the stranger was no person at all, and in fact, a simple scarecrow that had been placed on top of the saddle.

“What in the hell...?” Eli whispered in a baffled voice, observing the decoy.

That was when someone suddenly shot him from behind, planting a bullet in his leg.

“Shit!” He hissed, falling to the ground as smoke rose from his shattered kneecap and the horses whinnied in fear.

Tightly clutching his leg, Whitley heard the distant sound of someone cocking their gun, followed by a chain of footsteps emerging from the shadows that eventually led to his side.

“No wonder you have such bad luck with gambling,” a familiar voice remarked. “You’re far too predictable, Whitley.”

Holding onto his wounded knee as he writhed on the ground like a worm on a hook, Eli gazed upwards at his assailant and saw the same man from before, only with a completely different temperament this time.

As opposed to the casual, laid-back demeanor he carried during the game of Blackjack, he now lacked any empathy in his expression, and didn’t seem to hold even a shred of remorse in his conscience. His blue eyes were narrow with a sense of hatred, and the angled light coming from Eli’s fallen lantern cast a number of shadows across the man’s face that only seemed to sharpen his glare.

Whitley let out a series of rapid, shaky breaths, attempting to speak through the pain.

“W-Who the hell... are you?” He groaned out. “Why are you doin’ this...?!”

The young man kept his pistol aimed at Eli and slapped his horse with the other, scaring it off as a way to ensure Whitley had no means to escape.

“I’m surprised you don’t remember.” He answered vaguely. “I know it’s been over ten years, but seein’ as how you was drowning your sorrows in the parlor house back there, I figured you hadn’t forgotten.”

Eli sighed in frustration, his voice becoming more ragged due to anger. “Enough games, sir! Just gimme your name so I can know what the hell is goin’ on! Haven’t you played with me enough?”

“Not really,” the young man disagreed, “but I ain’t got any more time to waste on you. So consider yourself lucky. For once.”

Circling around Whitley like a vulture observing its meal, the young man finally decided to come clean and crouched next to Eli’s face, making sure his revolver was ready to fire at a moment’s notice.

“Fifteen years ago or so... you and your ‘associates’ may have robbed a small cabin...? Killed the owner in the process, too. A young woman, barely into her twenties. Her name was Eliza, and she had a son as well.”

He paused, holding up a finger. “Oh, but you didn’t kill her son. Instead, you took him in. Forced him to work for your gang, and then dug another grave by his mother’s to ensure his daddy wouldn’t come after him.”

The man aggressively pressed the barrel of his pistol against Whitley’s temple, nearly digging it through his skull as he growled his next words.

“Any of this ringin’ a bell now?”

Suddenly realizing just who this man was, Whitley’s eyes sprung wide open in remembrance as he gaped at his captor with a horrified look, finally understanding what all of this was about.

“...I-Isaac Morgan?” He breathed out in disbelief. “Is that you? My God... y-you was just a little boy the last time I saw you.”

Isaac nodded as confirmation, appearing satisfied with the answer. “If I recall correctly, you left your gang members behind ‘cause you couldn’t... ‘deal with the guilt anymore.”

Whitley closed his eyes in shame, unwilling to relive the tragic memory.

“...It was one of our first jobs, Isaac. We never meant to kill Eliza. We only wanted her money. But people just panicked, things got escalated, and -- for God’s sake -- it was an accident! Okay? The trigger went off and we couldn’t just undo it!”

Isaac shrugged at Eli’s confession, evidently not taking a word of it in. “I don’t care. Your ‘accident’ cost me my family, my home, and my childhood. And there ain’t no way in hell you can give any of that back, so I’ll just settle for takin’ your life. But before I do...”

He took a handful of Whitley’s collar, yanking the man’s face closer to his own. “...Tell me where Mackintosh is.”

Eli furrowed his brows at that. “Shay Mackintosh? How on earth would I know?”

“You and Mackintosh were practically brothers before you left the gang. You must know something!”

Whitley raised his hands in a diplomatic manner. “Look, I haven’t spoken to Mackintosh in years! I have no idea where he could be!”

Isaac pulled the hammer on his pistol down, afterwards pointing it at Eli’s other knee. “Well, you better give me something.”

“Wait!” The other man exclaimed, starting to panic. “Just wait! I’ve... I’ve heard rumors of him runnin’ around with the Van der Linde gang recently. Apparently, he’s one of them now.”

Morgan wasn’t quite finished with interrogating him yet. “The Van der Linde gang? Who are they? Where can I find them?”

“I don’t know,” Whitley answered truthfully. “I’ve never met them before. All I know is if you wanna find them, you gotta find Dutch van der Linde first. He’s their leader. He’s the one in charge.”

“...Dutch van der Linde...” Isaac repeated to himself, taking a mental note of the name. “Alright, then. I’ll go find him. And Mackintosh, too. Seems you ain’t completely useless, after all.”

“But what about Baumann and Blackmore?” Eli questioned, confused as to why Isaac stopped his interrogation there. “Aren’t you gonna look for them as well?”

Isaac stood up from the dirt path and patted any dust off his coat, averting his aim back to Whitley’s head.

“No need. They’re already dead.”

[redwritinghood]

Hi! If you're still taking prompts, u would love outsider pov of laurent and damen during kings rising and right after!! From any citizen if vere or akielos, nikandros, makedon, council or anyone else

Opening the word doc for this was like getting out a ouija board and hoping someone would speak to me. 

Lazaar-

Several feet of green grass was the only barrier between the Akielons and Veretians. Jord and Huet stood at the edge of the gap with folded arms and watched as the Akielons set up camp. Lazaar joined them leaning against a post. Jord glared silently. He hadn’t been the same since Ravenel. No one blamed him, but he was far less easy-going and there was a much more palpable disdain directed towards the Akelons. Or maybe just one in particular.

Lazaar had never been this close to so many. The prince’s slave was the most time any of them had spent with an Akielon. If he had decided to turn on them it may have taken ten or fifteen of them to hold the giant down, but eventually, they would have managed. Now there were hundreds of the barbarians. 

Was there a cloth shortage in Akielos? There was little left to the imagination. A younger one walked by, his chest bare, only a small wrapping around his hips. Lazaar, with fingers between his teeth, whistled a catcall. The Akielon turned, his large puppy-dog eyes found Lazaar. He blushed. The dark skin turned ruddy. He quickly looked away and hurried off. Huet laughed at the response and shouted after the young Akielon. Lazaar was surprised. It hadn’t been the reaction he expected and he watched the Akielon until he was no longer in sight.

Nikandros-

“If Theomedes were still here— we wouldn’t be— this would never—” Makedon trailed off and peered into his empty chalice. He groped for the wine pitcher. “Prince.” He slurred his words, “Pale and puny. Looks more like a bed slave. Bet he can’t even lift a sword.”

“I wouldn’t want him in my bed. He’d probably bite someone’s cock off.” Nikandros wasn’t nearly as intoxicated as Makedon but wished he was. He had lived with the idea that his best friend, Akielon’s rightful ruler, was dead. Finding him alive had been a short-lived relief. The Veretians had made the prince of Akielon a slave and instead of wanting revenge, Damianos had formed an alliance with them. Nikandros was certain he’d lost his mind. He even still wore the slave cuff on his wrist, as if proud. It was an insult. Nikandros’ confusion over Damen’s insanity had been quickly cleared when he’d seen the Veretian prince. Another blue-eyed blond, of course. Typically the infatuation didn’t last long. A few hours in bed, and Damen would move on. Jokaste had lasted the longest, but even she hadn’t kept Damen’s exclusive attention.

“He needs a good fucking,” Makedon slurred his words, “He’s as stiff as a statue.”

“I’ve heard he’s celibate.” Nikandros knew enough of the Veretian language that he understood what was being said about the icy prince. He hoped that was false. If Damen couldn’t bed the Veretian prince the entire Akielon nation may be doomed. There had been some satisfaction when Damen had placed a matching slave cuff on the arrogant prince during the day’s ceremony.

“Shoulda just taken the prince hostage and controlled the Veretian dogs that way.”

“You’re drunk,” Nikandros said, but privately agreed.

Pallas-

After years of training, Pallas had thought this opportunity had been taken away from him. The first time he’d seen Prince Damianos was as a young boy, too young to catch the prince’s eye. He became a soldier with the hopes of getting close to the prince. The news of his death had been heartbreaking, all of Pallas’ dreams had been swept away. Now was his chance to prove himself and make Damianos notice him.

The ceremonial games were starting soon and Pallas prepared, making his body was warm and ready. The others were excited to take out some aggression on the Veretians, all certain they stood no chance in the Akielon games. Pallas only wanted to win three times. Just three times and he could challenge Damianos. 

The whistle made him turn. He should have known better, days of the catcall and he was still gullible enough to look. Of course, it was that lanky Veretian with lecherous grin in place. Pallas turned away feeling his face warm. This was not a day to be distracted, his king was watching. 

Everything was going as planned, he had won two competitions and was stepping onto the field for the long sword competition and realized his opponent was the lanky Veretian. He looked at Pallas approached, an obvious up and down glance over his body. Pallas’ heart rate picked up. Why did this happen? It was the closest they had been. The man had a roguish handsome face, wearing scars of old battles and a confident grin. Pallas had been surprised by his opponent but was still confident in his ability.

He lost. 

It had been grueling. The Veretian barely seemed winded and had bested Pallas effortlessly, his technique was masterful and unique. He seemed to know exactly what Pallas would do while all of his attacks had been unpredictable. A different Veretian won the long sword competition. 

Despite the setback, Pallas won three events and was given the honor of challenging Damianos himself. He was no match for the raw power. Ultimately he didn’t mind the loss, he was pleased he’d been noticed and that Akielon’s ruler was so mighty. Secretly he couldn’t deny his pleasure at just being in contact with Damianos. It was a sport, but it was also, almost, something else. Something Pallas had yearned for since first seeing his future king.

Jord-

Laurent had always been difficult to read, hiding his emotions and frequently speaking in a cold sharp tone. Over the years, Jord had slowly gotten better at understanding his distant prince and could notice the subtle differences in his moods and expressions. With everything going on it was understandable that Laurent would be inconsistent. Jord had noticed the difference after Ravenel and Damen had told him that he had taken the prince to bed. He didn’t consider himself a quick-tempered man and if Laurent had shown any signs of displeasure, Jord would have been honor-bound to try and slay the Akielon.

It was after Charcy that Laurent’s temperament changed, suddenly cold towards Damen, or rather, king Damianos. Jord gritted his teeth at the thought of having to formally address the prince killer. The alliance shouldn’t have come as a surprise, Laurent would make any necessary arrangements in order to retake his throne. The ceremony, however, had made Jord’s blood boil. His prince now wore a slave cuff. The matching one to Damianos', who had lied to all of them, but more importantly had lied to Laurent. 

It was clear Laurent was unhappy. When there wasn’t some issue to take care of or some other princely duty, he remained in his tent. Alone. Jord had seen him begin to open up to the slave, they had spent a lot of time together and the prince had seemed comfortable, if not amicable. Jord was sorry Laurent was hurt, and more sorry that he possibly could have prevented it from happening. Maybe he should have told Laurent right away of his slave’s true identity, even if that meant Damen might have lost his life. 

After keeping an especially vigilant eye on the prince it became clear what was happening.  Laurent was not just lonely, he was pining. It was only obvious in the way he blatantly ignored Damen, not sparing him a glance. It made sense, in a convoluted way, that this would be Laurent’s approach. He liked to exercise his willpower, and resolutely avoiding something he wanted was an excellent way to achieve that. Damen was the opposite, nearly always watching the prince.

Everything changed at Karthas. It was obvious what had happened, but not so much why. Whether good or bad, the prince seemed happy. It was almost out of character. Jord only hoped it would last.

Paschal-

Paschal had never expected that he would need to tell Laurent to get out of another man’s bed. Ever since Damen had been wounded by his brother, Laurent hadn’t left his side, choosing to take all of his meetings, meals, and rest in the king’s bedroom. It hindered Damen’s healing process as Laurent's presence was too much of a distraction. Paschal expected this behavior from Damen, but Laurent had more self-control, or so he had thought. Months of ignoring Damen and now he wouldn’t leave him for more than a few minutes. Laurent may not have purposefully initiated anything physical but had to be aware of the temptation he posed.

One early morning, an apologetic Laurent had woken Paschal saying sheepishly that Damen’s stitches had been torn. 

They were more careful after that incident. Paschal was still unfortunate enough to frequently find them in some state of intimacy. While it didn’t bother Laurent, Damen barely had enough blood for a blush, let alone other things. Still, it warmed him to find them wrapped in the other's arms while they slept. They both deserved the rest and happiness.

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

What if you’re hanging out with Bakugou and like, he starts talking about something he’s super passionate about/proud of, or your with the squad doing stupid shit loudly, or just some exciting thing with Katsuki. Just seeing the giddiness he has about something, and feeling the adrenaline, smiling a wide grin and laughing aloud “God, I fucking love you”. Can be establish relationship or a confession, I just liked the idea :)

plEASE THIS IS NOW MY LIFE BLOOD THANK YOU SM FOR THIS

here’s a quick lil pre-relationship blurb, hope u enjoy <3333

-/-

You’re sitting in common room, assignments spread out on coffee table as you sat on the floor. Bakugou was sitting behind you on the couch, legs pulled up and crossed beneath him. He’d finished all of his work hours ago- of course- and currently seemed to be doing nothing but hanging around and clasping his hands together and... focusing really hard?

“What, uh, whatcha doin’ there, blasty?” You ask tenatively, hand still wrapped around your pencil. “What’s going on with your hands, huh?”

“Don’t call me that, idiot.”

You roll your eyes. Even through the fond tone of his voice, Katsuki still chose to call you names anyway.

“I’m just tryin’ something.” He finally says, once again pressing his hands together. “Go back to your fuckin’ work or something. Stop prying and leave me alone.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

You turn back to your work, scribbling down a few more answers. He never really leaves your peripheral vision though- you couldn’t help but focus on him. Katsuki was just being so weird, sitting there in utter silence other than a few grunts of effort and the sound of his hands smacking together. You were content at first, to just sit and watch, mildly surprised but otherwise just intrigued by his unusual behavior.

Until you hear a tiny, smothered, explosion.

“What did I tell you about exploding the common room, Bakugou?” You sigh, dropping your pencil and turning to face him. “The school’s not gonna pay for it again.”

He’s silent again, not even registering your words as he concentrates.

“Are you even listening to me? The damage was so bad last time! They’re not gonna help y-“

Boom.

A massive, room-silencing boom that almost splits your eardrums. It’s like the sound of a plastic bag popping, amplified by a 1000 decibels, his cupped hands forming a funnel of pure sound, and your ears are aching, screaming, bleeding and you jump nearly ten feet in the air, settling back on the ground heart racing and breath stuck in your throat- and is he laughing? Katsuki is laughing. He’s laughing and laughing and shaking his hands out and rocking in place as he smiles.

You knew you liked him before- had for a long while. When he was around your heart fluttered wildly and you couldn’t stop smiling- nearly always choking down laughter as he threatened others. He was loud, and brash, and angry, but you liked him anyway. Those were things you knew, things you could predict, but this was something else entirely. Something you didn’t know, couldn’t know, and had never been allowed the priviledge to see before.

He’s laughing and when you look at him he seems dazed- smiling stupidly, grin stretched up to crinkle crow’s feet around happy eyes. Eye’s that are suddenly alive, like you’ve never seen them before- they’re striking, burning embers of unadulterated life and searing red, red, wildfire.

It’s hits you then. Almost knocks the wind right out of you the same way the blast did.

Bakugou is beautiful.

He is so, so, beautiful in ways that you never understood, couldn’t have ever hoped too before now. He is laughing and smiling so fully, glee and wonder stretched across a face that usually held nothing but frown lines- in that moment it almost hurts to look at him. The Bakugou before you is so childlike, and pure, and secure in his joy that it makes your chest tighten. You can hardly catch the breath needed to form your words.

“Wow- that’s-“

“Fuckin’ loud! I know, right? Listen, listen,” He shouts, cupping his hands once more. There’s a quick flash of light, before he smothers his hands together, and then another loud boom that shakes your bones in your skin. “Did ya fuckin’ hear that? Hah?”

“Yes, I did.” You laugh. “Couldn’t a missed if if I tried.”

“I been practicin’,” He starts, words fast and overwhelmingly proud as he nearly screams. “Been tryin’ to make the just the sound, so I can scare those fuckin’ idiots!”

“Who?”

“Shitty hair and Dunce face! Who the fuck else?” He laughs again, pointing a red palm towards you. “See this shit? Took all the force. Knew I could fuckin’ do it!”

You were stunned. Bakugou- he..... was entertained by the sound alone? He was so very thrilled all because of a loud noise?

Suddenly, he looks much younger to you in that moment- like all his teenage insecurity and wild expectations for himself have just melted away. There’s no anger, no anxiety, no front- just Bakugou.

“God, and it fuckin’ worked on you too!” He shouted. “Shoulda seen your stupid fuckin’ face- looked like you had a goddamn heart attack!”

“I did! Bakugou, you fucker! I did have a heart attack, thank you!” You huffed, but you weren’t really angry. Didn’t really think you ever could be when he smiled at you like that. “Why wouldn’t you warn me?”

“Didn’t know it’d actually happen.” He shrugs. “Thought of it this morning and just fuckin’ got it now.”

“Oh my god- is that why you rushed to get your work done?” You laughed incredulously. “So you could play explosions all afternoon?”

“It’s not-I’m not fuckin playing explosions, shitty woman!” He barks. “It’s a new trick! And a fuckin’ cool one at that so you better give it the goddamn respect it deserves! You got that?”

“Yeah, got it.” You stood, shoving at his shoulder. “But don’t fucking do it again! My ears are bleeding.”

He just smirks something small and contained as he holds eye contact. His hands begin to come together and your stomach drops,

“Bakugou, no! Don’t-“

Boom.

When the ringing clears from your ears, all you can hear is his laughter again. The way it fills the room and warms your heart, and makes him so very beautiful that it’s hard for you to breathe. His smile and his crinkled eyes are all you can see, all you think. This moment- this Bakugou, feels like it might be just for you to keep.

He looks up at you, eyes a perfect mirror of unguarded flames and blistering firestorm.

I love him. You realize. I love him.

[a-lonely-tatertot]

Finding Home

A/N: HIIIIIII IM BACK BOIS! Anyways this is a shorter chapter I didn’t wanna mess with outline so you get tiny chapter. sooo woot woot for like barely 2k words? But like the doc im writing this on is at like 19k and 29 pages i am in shock. trying to get back a consistent updating with this so uh yeah dont keep your hopes up tho- working on ch. 7 rn hope you enjoy! As always betaed by the glorious @bookwyrminspiration

words: 2208

tw: none

wattpad ao3

Chapter 6: These Secrets Stain Us Red

They had gotten off the bus at the last stop before Kull, stepping out into the cold air. Sophie glanced at the trees in the distance turning orange and yellow. Distantly, she remembered when she was younger this was her favorite season, how the leaves would fall and crunch at her feet, and how it was actually somewhat bearable to be outside. She smiled at the memory as she held Linh’s hand, walking quickly to the gas station, her stomach already grumbling.

“Linh?” a voice called from behind them as they stood in line. Linh swung around, trying to find the source of who called her, nearly startling Sophie into almost dropping her water. The mystery person stepped out from behind a small cluster of people with an overly energetic wave. “Linh! It is you!” he called.

Sophie watched as Linh’s eyes landed on the man and her whole expression shifted. As opposed to the man’s own happiness, Linh seemed to put a wall between her real emotions and the rest of the world, her face betraying nothing. “Hey, Sameul!” Linh said in pretend excitement; Sophie knew that her words carried an undertone of malice.

This Sameul was not the man Sophie had seen in the memories, but from Linh’s reaction, he seemed to probably be involved in whatever Linh was in.

“That’s me,” Sameul responded, clearly not getting Linh’s annoyance like Sophie was. “Geez, it’s been what, how many months since I last saw you?”

“Yeah it’s been a while,” Linh said, her shoulders rigid and her jaw set. Who the heck is this guy? she thought. Their name was called and Sameul followed them to go pick up their food. Sophie tried not to feel trapped with the way Linh’s eyes darted.

Sameul smiled ruefully, “Last time I saw you you had a little backpack and were running out the door in the middle of the night.” Linh took in a sharp breath and stuttering to a halt, her tray of food almost dropping. Sophie raised her eyebrows, more confused than ever. There was a beat then a sharp ring interrupted the weighted silence and Linh’s eyes widened with relief.

“Oh Sam, I’m sorry, that’s her sister calling. She’s really gotta take that. Why don’t you come with me?” Linh asked, more of a command than a suggestion. Reluctantly, Sophie pressed accept on her phone, ready to unleash the crazy whirlwind of shit that she had found out on one completely unprepared Amy. “What up checking in blame Tina she was worried,” Amy said, boredom concealing her concern.

“Uhuh sure Tina was worried,” Sophie chuckled. “Anyways, Linh is being super suspicious.”

Amy made a startled noise, “O-okay then so not well.” 

Sophie nodded even though Amy couldn’t see her, “Yup, also uh side note, totally did not watch another one of her memories.” “Sophie! It’s like you’re trying to do it on purpose!”

“It was an accident I swear!”

“Mhm, yeah, definitely.”

Sophie grumbled, “Oh screw off. Anyway, I was in this bathroom and her knuckles were all bloody like she had punched something. And then this guy came in and said that she wasn’t allowed to be reckless anymore, but from what I saw it was like she was living with some other runaway people I guess?”

Amy was silent for a moment. “Well damn.”

“Yeah,” Sophie agreed. “You shoulda seen her when this guy recognized her while we were getting food; she got like scary tense and for a moment I thought she was gonna water power him.” “Water power him? Really? That’s what you’re calling it?” Amy said. Sophie could practically hear her raising her eyebrow. “At that point just call it water bending.”

“I refuse to call it that.”

“How dare you; you’ve disrespected our childhood.” Sophie laughed. “But seriously,” Amy continued, and she knew she wasn’t going to like what she was going to say next, “Soph, what happened to telling her about the memories? Instead, you just spied more.” “She’s the one with the sketchy past!”

“That you don’t have any right to!”

“She’s been weird and I need to figure out why. Once I do I’ll tell her everything.”

“No, you don’t need to figure it out yourself! You need to talk to her and she will tell you if she’s ready to.” “Don’t tell me what to do Amy. She lied to me. The first night we were together we talked about how we got here and she lied to me like it never happened.”

“This isn’t war Sophie. Just because you’re scared, just because she lied doesn’t mean you get to invade her privacy. She’s not the enemy Sophie, she’s your girlfriend.”

Sophie hung up and her phone buzzed twice more while she watched Linh walk back over to her. This wasn’t Amy’s problem, this wasn’t Amy’s life, so screw her for trying to tell her what to do. She had the abilities and she was sure as hell going to use them. “Sam left,” Linh said with a clearly fake smile. “Said he should probably get back on the bus and didn’t want to intrude.”

At that Sophie raised an eyebrow, she didn’t need to use her telepathy to know it was a lie.

Stepping on the bus felt like placing the weight of the world on her shoulders. She knew that man was something to Linh, or Linh was something to him; maybe he was what Linh was running from. She didn’t have regrets when she reached carefully out to Sameul’s mind and glanced at what he said to Linh. Maybe she should’ve regretted it, but she couldn’t bring herself to. She needed to know, when she had left the Lost Cities it was her way of saying “I will not be lied to even if it seems better that way”. So much had been kept from her and here she was, getting things from the source instead of waiting for someone to tell her.

The words, “You haven’t changed Linh,” rang in her ears as she pulled back, not letting any emotions show on her face as Linh followed behind her. Linh didn’t say anything so Sophie didn’t say anything and they settled into a tense silence as the bus around them buzzed with noise. Sophie tried to think of something to say as the words played on repeat in her head but Linh beat her to it.

“You never told me much about Mari, about what she means to you,” Linh said. Each word seemed rehearsed as if she had said it in her head a thousand times before speaking the words into existence. “I didn’t know you cared,” Sophie responded quickly before she could think it through.

“Tell me about Mari?” Linh asked softly.

Despite what Sophie was hiding from Linh and what Linh was hiding from her, she couldn’t stop herself from talking. The words may have meant nothing as she rambled on about her life there, only meant to be a distraction, but she let them spill from her lips without hesitation. She talked of Tommy, Angie, and Mari, of her weekly game nights, of the regulars at the diner. The people she had come to love yet when the time came she didn’t hesitate to leave ‘cause she was scared. Scared of the permanence of it, scared she’d lose herself in the dream of it. And how when she burned those bridges all she felt was a gaping hole in herself. As she talked she thought of the people she had left in the Lost Cities; how she burned it all like she had when she was young and reckless and angry burning her mark, the moonlark, into the ground desperate to prove something, desperate to mean something. But now she was afraid of that, tearing everything to shreds, burning it to ashes because she didn’t know how to mean something to someone. She thought of what Amy had said and briefly wondered if she would ever be able to just talk about something instead of treating everything as a mystery she was destined to solve. Eventually, her words lulled Linh to sleep and she let out a soft sigh of contentment as she laid her head on Sophie’s shoulder. Sophie glanced at Linh, only allowing herself a quick look at her girlfriend’s soft and relaxed face before staring out the window watching the gravel pass, not allowing herself time for her guilt and sadness to rise. She wasn’t allowed those feelings. With every fiber of herself Sophie dreaded and couldn’t wait for the moment they stepped off of the bus into Kull, the town with as weird of a name as people.

An hour later, as the sun started to fall behind the trees and the sky began to turn dark, that moment came and Sophie found her entire body filled with anxiety. They made their way to the front, Sophie in front of Linh, her hand stretched behind her holding Linh’s hand like a lifeline.

They were the only ones getting off and within seconds they were left standing on the dirt road, the bus was long gone. The air was cold, and the wind blew lightly, tossing around Sophie’s ponytail. Neither spoke to the other, standing in silence, staring at the buildings in front of them. It felt like they’d break a spell if they moved, if they talked, so Sophie didn’t. But Linh did (a spell didn’t need to last an eternity in her mind, just for the moment that it was intended for). Linh squeezed Sophie’s hand three times, dragging her out of her haze to stare at Linh confused.

“It’s a human thing,” Linh said sheepishly. Distantly Sophie remembered Amy teaching her, three squeezes, “I love you”. Four squeezes back and Sophie had said, “I love you too.” She didn’t have time to think if it was a lie because with that she started walking, entirely on autopilot, the familiar route to Mari’s house ingrained in her mind. It was after hours, so there’d be no point going to the diner. So she dragged Linh down main street, taking a left about halfway down, and then it was another block til she found herself outside the door on the white porch of the bright mobile home with her whole body buzzing. It was almost too much to be there; staring at it again it was like nothing had changed. But something had, because she didn’t have a key, and so she knocked with all of the impulsive courage she had left.

Three rapid knocks.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five seconds.

The door opened with a creak.

It wasn’t Mari.

There was a man, about her height, hair pulled in a bun and silver bangs over glasses. He was familiar, why was he familiar? Linh drew in a harsh breath of air and squeezed Sophie’s hand as tight as she could. That was when the puzzle pieces fell into place. That’s when it all made sense. The man standing in front of her was someone she hadn’t seen in two years other than in the memories she had unrightfully stolen from him. The man standing in front of her, still with his signature silver, was Tam Song.

Amy’s phone buzzed next to her, pulling her away from rereading her homework question for the eight time. Ever since Sophie’s call and her following silence Amy couldn’t focus; she tried to distract herself, and pulled herself away from texting Linh and telling her everything Sophie had told her. It’s not my place, she would think. It’s not part of the plan. Her phone unlocked and she slowly processed the photo and message. It was a picture of Sophie leaning her back against the gas station with her hand holding her phone to her ear. It was just like her co-conspirators to be that dramatic they had to send a photo too.

-Operation Collect the Dumbasses-

Braincell Holder: You know we heard that call. Pure of Heart Dumb of Ass: I thought we said that I would start this conversation? No Thoughts Head Empty: Yeah well you took too long. Braincell Holder: Not the Point. The Mental Stability: And the Point? This felt too pointed, Amy thought. Way too pointed and directed at her. Her phone buzzed again. Braincell Holder: Having second thoughts? Only slightly, Amy thought, but no no this needed to happen. The Mental Stability: No Pure of Heart Dumb of Ass: Thank the fucking ancients we can move on No Thoughts Head Empty: We’ve got a Phase 3 to begin

Phase 3, which they already had planned, would be the hardest to set up. Everything had to be just the right timing and just the right place.

Incoming call from Braincell Holder

Amy smiled as she accepted the call and long red hair popped into the frame. “Where is she?” Amy asked.

The redhead grinned, “She’ll be here in a minute, you know how Mrs. Sparkly Justice is; she’s got meetings but she said she’s got a friend who wants to help.”

Amy smiled, their little band of conspirators and their plan was working better than she could’ve imagined.

“So,” Amy said, “Where do we start?”

[jeawrites]

Dinner

(i HAD A SUDDEN URGE TO WRITE FOR THE DERBY AU SO TAKE THIS IG-- its just a relationship test)

Ship: Nogla/Moo

Warnings: None

Word Count: 807

“Ye know,” David began, picking a fry off of Brock’s plate, “You coulda invited anyone else out and ye chose me? Why is that?” He plopped the fry in his mouth and watched in pure entertainment as Brock’s face turned a light shade of red.

“Well- er- I just wanted to- well,” he gestured roughly into the air. “Maybe I wanted to bond a bit,” he rolled his eyes and moved his plate towards him as David went to grab another fry. 

Which, in response, gained a pout. 

But, then David regained his smile and leaned back into his seat. “Well I’m glad you invited me,” he decided, reassuring in his tone and part of Brock did feel relieved by the confirmation.

“Is that so?” Brock asked, shoving a fry into his mouth after dipping it into some ketchup.

David nodded confidently. “Of course! It’s been really fun-- all things considered.”

Brock raised a brow. “All things considered?” he repeated.

David nodded again and took Brock’s moment of confusion to reach a long arm over and snatch another couple of fries, brushing his hand over Brock’s which caused the American to jump. 

Brock glared. “You shoulda just ordered your own!” he whined, but he wasn’t actually too mad about it.

“It wouldn’t be fun to steal fries off of my own plate,” David argued, winking teasingly at Brock.

“You’re unbearable,” Brock huffed, using his other hand to cover his face, but he also pushed the plate towards the middle of the table.

“Yet ye still invited me out,” David said as he reached for a fry in victory.

Brock smiled a tinge behind his hand, giving into his defeat. “Touche,” he said, “But, fuck you anyways.” 

The two shared a laugh and shared some fries.

The night was still young by the time they finished, but the diner didn’t close for a bit and Brock insisted that David tried a cookie.

“They literally make the best cookies here-- I promise you’ll love them!” he said, nearly bouncing in his seat which gained a fond smile from David.

“Okay- okay, I believe ye Brock,” he laughed, a tad awkward as he held his hands in front of his chest, surrendering. 

“Yes!” Brock grinned, waving down their waitress after kindly calling out her name. she happly took his order for half a dozen cookies- “John’s gonna want a few”- David didn’t complain much, instead became rather curious on just how much of a regular Brock is- he did know most of the staff.

“Did ye work here at one point?” he asked.

Brock blinked, calming down some with the question and shaking his head. “No,” he trailed off and then giggled. “I used to come here every weekend when I was younger so I’ve come to know the family that runs it,” he explained. 

“Oh,” David nodded. “So it’s family run still?” 

“Mostly,” Brock answered, “The man who opened this place- our waiters dad- is retired now, so the guy who owns it now is actually a close family friend, but they all get along.” 

David nodded again and then he grinned. “Why’d ye visit so frequently?” he asked.

Brock raised a brow, resting his arms on the table. “I came here with my family once and really liked it so I would just treat myself every weekend- if I didn’t have practice.” He paused then, and tilted his head. “Why are you so curious?”

David shrugged. “I like hearing ye talk, and I like learning about ye,” he said. 

“Oh.”

He laughed. “Sorry, was that a weird thing to say?”

Brock shook his head quickly, chuckling a little. “No- no, it’s fine, just... not what I was expecting to hear,” he answered.

But, before David could ask, the waitress dropped off a box of cookies with a little wink and handed Brock the check before leaving. 

Brock paid and tipped before leading David out to the car. 

The ride to the apartment building was fun, mainly because Brock was right and David did love the cookies- “I told you so!” “Shut up- I’m trying to enjoy it!”- They soon did get back though and the night came to an end once they got to their floor. 

David stalled by Brock door, rubbing the back of his neck as he held a cookie in his hand. “Thanks for treating me, Brock,” he said with a smile. “I owe ye a dinner,” he added. 

Brock laughed. “I’ll hold you to that,” he said. “But, I’m glad you came. I hope you have a good night, David,” he gently patted his shoulder.

“Ye too, Brock,” he said. “I’ll see ya at practice tomorrow,” he added, before beginning down the hall. 

“Yeah, later,” Brock called, watching for a moment with a fond smile before he headed inside, locking the door behind him.