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msmarvelwrites · 4 years

Text

Season Of The Witch

Summary: Your witchy abilities get you in quite a bit of trouble from time to time… But this time you don’t mind so much.

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, honestly i think that’s it. Just soft boy Bucky.

Word Count: 2k

Author's Note: I had a lot of fun writing this one. Little bit of a witchy- halloween vibe for ya guys… Honestly I’m really in love with this idea, so who knows- if you like it I might write a part 2!

Huge Thank you to @cutie1365 for editing this mess! Couldnt have done it without her!

“Okay, okay. What colour am I thinking of now.” Peter squealed, plopping himself down on your bed, staring at you like a kid on christmas.

Being the Avengers personal psychic has its benefits, but this was certainly not one of them. You thought your party-trick of a superpower would have grown old on your friends, and yet it always seemed to draw a crowd of non-believers. You weren't the toughest or the strongest by any means, but you sure knew your way around a person's thoughts, which proved to be an advantage to the team. Mostly you were in charge of recon, but that didn't stop Natasha from dragging you to the gym every weekend and torturing you with super hero level workouts.

“How many more times are we going to do this, Peter?” You sighed, but soon realised he wasnt caving. “Blue. Just like last time it was orange and the time before that thirteen. Can we please stop.”

Peter scanned you over for a moment, before relaxing back on your headboard.

Fine, but only because Mr. Stark said he was ordering Chinese and it's probably here by now. His voice echoed through your mind.

“Actually, I heard Wanda say he’s getting pizza.” You corrected.

“How did you-?” He paused, eyes agape as your words registered. “That is seriously cool, you know that? I mean, I hang from the walls but that- that is cool! I can see why they coined you The Witch now,” Peter playfully shouted. “Can you do that with anyone, at any time?”

You smiled sheepishly, remembering the times your wandering mind had gotten you in some pretty uncomfortable situations. You tried your very best to stay out of your friends heads, but sometimes that was easier said than done. Especially when it came to the former Hydra assassin. His thoughts seemed to creep into your mind, seeping through the cracks unbidden. Sometimes his mind would wander aimlessly, but that wasn't always the case. You knew about Bucky’s dark past, however hearing it in his own cruel words was something else entirely. Though he would never utter the words allowed they were seared into your mind. You had every sense to avoid the man and yet his voice, like gravel and smoke, drew you in, intoxicated on his every word as it clouded around your subconscious.

“Unfortunately” You sighed, easing back into the mattress and unconsciously biting at the corner of your mouth. Your gift didnt make you very popular when you were younger. You were honestly surprised it was so welcomed here. Most people consider you an invasion of privacy... But Peter was different from the highschool kids you grew up with. Maybe it was due to the fact he was different too, but something about the way his mind wandered made you believe that radio-active spider or not, Peter would always be Peter.

“What does Bucky think about?”

That knocked you out of your thoughts. You snapped your head up and looked at Peter, who only seemed to have a curious look in his eyes.

He’s so broody and mysterious. Guy gives me the creeps.

“Bucky is a sweetheart deep down.” You faked a smile, concerned as to why you felt the need to defend him. From an outside perspective, it was possible to fear the former Winter Soldier. However, knowing what you did haunted your nerves.

“I’m sure very, very deep down.” Peter chuckled. “I’m going to go grab some pizza before Sam eats it all. Are you coming?”

You smiled softly, preparing yourself for the dinner with your friends. Though you enjoyed having a sort of family, dinners together would often grow overwhelming in your mind, voices colliding though your head, brewing into a storm in your thoughts.

“I’ll be down in a few.” With that, Peter stumbled out of your room and down the hallway leaving you with your thoughts. You closed your eyes, concentrating on the many different voices faintly echoing around you. You could only make out bits and pieces as they vibrated through the walls and all around you. At first, it was hard to identify whose voice belonged to who, but soon after you moved into the compound it became easy.

Natasha thought in poems. Her brain was always working on the next solution- the next verse. Her mind wandered in and out of trains of thought like a dancer, drifting back and forth with ease. It was always relaxing listening in.

Tony was constantly listening to his music wherever he went. You had an inkling it was because he knew how powerful you were. ‘Like built-in surveillance,’ he’d often say. Though, you’d never deflate his ego in letting him know you could still hear his thoughts clear as day.

But then there was Bucky. It took you a while to understand his thoughts. They always seemed erratic and chased- never one thought all at once, but it soon became clear why. Bucky was constantly correcting himself. When his mind began to tiptoe into the darkest corners, he’d change the conversation, ushering it back to what he thought was right. Listening to his internal debates became a favourite pastime of yours. He often reminisced about his time in the forties. You liked how easy it was, listening to him think. Though you had never said more than five words to him allowed, you were content with this little part of him. Pieces only you both knew. Like the beautiful woman he would lose himself daydreaming about. The way he described her made you feel flush all over. He never thought her name, and yet it stung all the more knowing his heart was stolen. His beautiful ‘ведьма’. Not that you stood a fighting chance. Not to mention the impending age gape you both shared. Often he would find you staring and a string of curses would follow as he realised he’d be caught. You never meant to intrude, but then again, that wasn't entirely true.

With a huff, you swung your legs off the bed letting your feet hit the cold wooden floors, but before you could even open the door, you heard him. His voice was so loud you almost didn't know if he was speaking aloud or not.

Just do it, you punk. Walk up there and ask her. What’s the worst that could happen?.... She could plunge a knife into your back- no…. She wouldn't do that and you know it. If you ask her, she might say yes… Honestly that might he worse than-

You swing the door open, startling Bucky back a few paces as your eyes might his. Instantly his face blooms with pink as his mind races- his thoughts an incoherent mess.

“Hi Bucky.” You spoke only above a whisper.

“Oh jesus! I didn't know you were right there.” He mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck trying to steady his breathing.

“Sorry…” You mumbled, breaking eye contact and suddenly finding the floor very interesting. “I didn mean to scare you-”

“You don’t- I mean, you didn't scare me.” He chuckled, his mind suddenly blank. “It doesn't matter right now because I, uh… I was wondering if you're coming for dinner.”

You nodded your head, “Yeah, on my way now.” You smiled softly.

“Great,” Bucky grinned, running his hand through his cropped hair and stepping aside. “I can walk with you.”

You nodded, swallowing hard as you swung the door shut and began walking side by side with Bucky in heavy silence.

“Know what’s for dinner?” Bucky finally spoke.

“Pizza. Your favourite.” You affirmed, meeting his curious eyes. His strides slowed until he was at a full stop.

“I never told you that.” He pried, looking at your in question.

You froze, suddenly aware of what you had just said. There was nothing more you wanted than to sink into the floor and let the earth swallow you whole.

“Uh,” You nervously laughed, “You must have at some point. Yeah, I remember now, it was-”

“How often do you listen?” he interrupted, making your mouth clamp shut.

You thought about lying, though it didn't seem right. You knew all his secrets and all he asked was this one. Surely you could grant him that even if it cost a punch to the ego.

“All the time,” You started, your eyes never leaving the floor. “I don’t mean to. At least that’s the way it started. I really try to put you guys all on ‘mute’ when we're together, but your voice always comes through. I don't know what it is, but I like the way you think.” You admitted, feeling heat rising from your chest.

“You like the way I think?” He pried, taking a few steps closer to you. You could feel the tension buzzing around the hallway, ricocheting off the walls and exploding all around you.

“I’m sorry, I’m so embarrassed. It's such an invasion of privacy. You must hate me. I promise I won't tell anyone about the things I hear. Especially her.”

“Her?” He chuckled, taking another step toward you leaving only a few tiles between the two of you.

“Ведьма.” You choked out. “You think about her all the time. She sounds beautiful, by the way. I’m sorry, that's overstepping… I just, I’m sorry. Really I’ll just go-”

Before you could turn on your heel and run for the hills, Bucky's hands were around your wrists, holding you still. His eyes were pleading as he opened he opened and shut his mouth trying to find the right words to say.

“For a witch, you sure aren’t very intuitive.” Bucky signed, your eyes finally landing on his. “My beautiful witch, don’t know by now?”

You blinked at him, your mouth suddenly dry and words caught in your throat. Before you could speak, his thoughts broke through the air, tumbling around you.

Are you listening, doll? His voice echoed around you sending a shiver down your spine. You nodded your head, watching as his eyes crinkled up as he a lopsided grin formed on his pink lips.

It’s you. It’s always you. I've tried to stop, trust me. I just can’t seem to shake it.

You almost didn't notice the smile that began to pull at the corners of your mouth as you took in his words. They drifted in the air around you, echoing through your mind as Bucky’s thumbs rubbed circles into your skin.

“Ask me.” You spoke up, a sudden confidence serging through your core. Bucky raised a brow, scanning you over until your words resonated with him.

“Right, of course.” He cleared his throat, letting go of your hands and intertwining his own nervously. “Would you ever consider letting me take you out. To dinner, maybe?”

You bit down on your bottom lip to stop yourself from giggling as you listened to his internal monologue of nerves that followed his question.

“Took you long enough.” You chuckled, watching as his smile lit up the room around you. Before you could stop yourself you closed the distance between you, draping your arms around his shoulders and crashing your lips onto his. Bucky froze, but almost as instantly melted into you, his hands finding their home on your hips as he pulled you in. You wanted nothing more than to melt into him but his racing thoughts swirled around you, causing a giggle to fall from your lips.

Holy Shit. Kiss her back, you moron. Oh god she smells so good. What is that? Cinnamon? Citrus? Shit, she's so close to me. Don't panic. Don't panic. Fuck she feels good. Just relax, and- Oh shit. Can you hear me?

You couldn't help but throw your head back, laughter bubbling out of your chest as his thoughts raced through his head.

“I can tell you're going to be a lot of fun, Barnes” You mumbled against his lips.

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A/n: Nervous Bucky is my favourite can you tell? I loved this one, show some love if you felt the same!

@cutie1365 @whateveriwant

@projectcampbell @kalesrebellion

@calwitch @hpandmcu177a

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes reader

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spencerscoven · 3 years

Text

— dreams of another

about ; Since that night in the office you wander onto Spencer’s mind at all times, like clockwork.

gif by saramichellesgeller

CONTENT WARNING: unedited, smut, oral sex (male&female receiving), choking, unprotected sex, cheating, angst

a/n: view part 1 here.

The second time it happens, it's only a week that passes before Spencer finds himself on the floor of the humid conference room, his limbs entangled with yours, while the cool air settles on the sheen of sweat coated on his forehead. In the corner of of the room, he watches the navy blouse discarded carelessly on the top of a chair, similar in color to the marks between your breast.

The third time it happens, he tells you it's the last time, with his back facing you and his eyes gazing at entirely nothing.

The fourth and fifth time, Spencer doesn't say anything in the tiny space of your bedroom as he overlooks the buildings surrounding your apartment, then all the way to the concrete foundation down below, studying how insignificant everyone looked. How unknowing they were to the moral wrongdoings happening all around them.

"You live so high up. I live four floors down from here in my own building." You listened as he said those fruitless words.

"What does that mean?" You questioned, lips pursing together while your finger nails caught on the creases of the cream duvet beneath you where he laid only minutes before.

“People like you are meant to fuck people like me.” He mumbles, smirking, the vibrations of his voice upheld by the enclosures of cheap plaster walls.

The only thing left to do was to watch as the muscles of his back contracted, dancing in the lines of the darkness with the patter of his feet coming towards you. You monitored the direction of his hand as it reached for the band of his briefs, the other already latched around your neck.

The sixth time it happens, it’s in the bounds of his own apartment where he presses peppery kisses along the sides of your face, assuring you in confidence that she wouldn’t catch the two of you there. And he reassures you the only way he knows how, his fingers plying at your zipper and kneeling like he would at an alter, guiding the arch of your hips closer.

Two weeks from then was when the phone calls started. You began to understand the pattern, laying awake until the sweet pinnacle of dawn where he’d whisper your name through the receiver, exhaustion tainted in Spencer’s voice when he’d ask, “how was your night?” before he began to speak. You’d listen to Spencer talk about the good and the bad. About his mother, vintage cufflinks, and the bookshelf he wanted. Sometimes about the glasses or earrings in the store had reminded him of you. Often about how pretty you looked latched onto his cock. You wanted him to want to keep you.

You wanted him to want you first, to touch you before you even had to lay a finger on him, to grab the back of your neck and kiss you first. Anything he could do to prove that he wanted this too. Something in your head told you it was wrong to long for such a furtive thing. But you found yourself willing to be second best anyways, head stuck below sub zero while you prioritized the taste of his lips along with everything else that made him, him.

So in the shadows this thing between the two of you remained.

And the team began to realize Spencer now had a thing with being late.

They also began to realize that you didn’t drink nearly enough coffee to warrant all of your disappearances.

JJ malignly embarked on the observation of the two of you during meetings, where you never met Spencer’s eye properly but unconsciously leaned your body towards him with each interaction. And all at once it made sense to her, why he was more drawn to his phone, departing from bed at night in preference of hushed ringtones, his growing fondness to late nights. They had never agreed to a proclamation of love, not even on the days she relaxed on his dingy apartment furniture. JJ figured it was his way of waiting on her to feel the same as he might’ve, when in reality it was Spencer’s way of making sure you still remained in his life.

It was a Tuesday when she let the structure of your sin unravel in the bleak corner of the hallway with Spencer, confessing “i know” and chastening him,

“How many people are you willing to hurt?”

With the unequivocal decision pinned to the front of his brain, Spencer told you he didn’t want to hurt anyone else during the last call the two of you shared at night. The words became lost from your ears as you feigned deafness, thinking about how stupid you were to take him in the only way you could, thinking one-third of him be adequate enough.

So you hung up before he said goodbye, and it was easy to do solely because if love couldnt suffice, hate would have to.

It was odd to overlook the call that came immediately after, your eyes unblinking at the white screen. The weeks after that only came to demonstrate that finding a home within someone was overrated, even if you knew who was behind the blocked numbers that caused your phone to viberate so often it would fall off your nightstand.

Little by little you figured you’d forget and move onto your own devices, exhausted by the ability that you still moved through life, yet experienced none of it without itching for him next to you. You lusted after the idea you’d wake up with the intensity of it all slipped from your mind, forgetting how his arms felt, skin, pulse, the sound of his voice, or the soft ringlets of his hair that continued to grow as you wilted.

A harder idea to get out of your head was if he was okay, followed by if he ever thought of you at the same time you thought of him. Did he know you wouldn’t have minded resigning to another team? Or that you considered doing it, even now?

Spencer spectated your life, the base of his throat becoming caught when he watched you get worse, speak less, become smaller. You’d shrunken within yourself. Months passed, with him having too many inquiries about you to Morgan, who always gave him a disappointing look, but told him about you each time. That you hadn’t been sleeping, internal clock stuck on keeping you up until the crack of dawn, your mind regressing backwards solely because of him. He gave up on leaving those stupid sticky notes in your books that said “call me!” or even the ones that asked if you were okay, asking if you able to stand on your own.

He watched you so long that he began to see you get better, more social as you expanded, becoming a part of the team again. You were different, but you were you again. It was a bitter pill to swallow when he took heed that your life no longer included him, keeping his lips sealed at any revelation that would show he was still devoted.

So it was dull-witted when he found himself outside the door of your apartment, swaying back and fourth because every night since the last call his world had been spinning faster and faster, trapping him inside as a prisoner. For weeks straight Spencer had awoken with the feeling of bile ready to rise out of his throat, your presence always lacking even if you controlled the beat of his heart.

He knocked. And thought about how angelic you looked when you answered, the confused expression not going unnoticed by him as a celebration sounded somewhere in his mind because you looked as if you weren’t expecting anyone else. And Spencer knows he’d collapse right then and there if you had been.

“I’ve been thinking— it’s not like I can really stop it— for months. It’s been around sixty eight days since we last spoke,” He began, taking you in, enstilling trust in his brain to get a photo of you so well that he could have it forevermore if you didn’t want him anymore. If that had ever been the case he’d leave. He’d leave the state if you asked him to.

“Why are you here?” You only had four words to say out loud, the rest buzzing around in your head safely, unauthorized to rise out of your throat.

“We never really said anything about it but I think we both knew how we felt.” Spencer leans closer just in time for his lips to land beside your ears, lighting a match inside your chest that had stayed extinguished for far too long.

“Speaking was never our strong suit, anyway.” You replied, your lips pursed while your arms took on a defensive stance, pushing him back gently.

You were shipwrecked inside, pushing him back again, this time firmly because you knew you couldn’t stop him from coming closer, even if you wanted to. You were at a standstill as his hands brought yours to his shoulders, drawing circles on your hip with the tips of his fingers. He was in your doorway asking if he was yours, not trying to eloquently wrap you around his finger.

Your limbs acted before your mind did, digits moving across his adam’s apple and holding tight, restricting his airflow like he had done to you so many times while he fucked you into the mattress. You gleamed at him with not much in your eyes, trying to remembering when you had tried to cross the thin line between love and hate for him. Spencer’s eyes were soft and adoring, a look which he had a tendency to give you. So you held tighter. And he did nothing, knowing you wouldn’t go far but willing to die in your hands if you truly wanted to.

“I don’t know if you deserve this anymore,” Your lips ghosted over his, reprimanding him that he’d forgotten that this had began in a game of adultery.

“I don’t.” Spencer’s voice came out as if he was parched and you had been refusing him of a drink. Your hands released his neck and instead grabbed at his jaw, allowing his lips to mend together with yours, unable to speak back.

“If I loved you any less, I’d be able to talk about it more.” He pulled away just enough to whisper those words.

“You love me?” You questioned, a bit timid in the way it came out.

“It’s more than that. I adore you. Worship, even.”

You felt yourself moving the both of you into your apartment, swapping the publicity of the hallway for the privacy closely afforded to you. Your bodies only got so far, pushing each other against the wall next to the enterence, Spencer’s hands helping to arch your body into his, hands pressing down the curve of your back.

You enjoyed feeling him subtly grind his hips against you while he let out little whimpers, remembering the way he was so vocal and sensitive, yet dominant when he laid between your legs. You drew in a quick breath as he bit down on your bottom lip hard enough to draw the red liquid that ran through your body, conflicted as to why it only drew you closer, want intensified.

“I missed you so much,” Spencer’s voice ghosted in the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking along your throat and collarbones, pushing the palm of his hand harshly against your damp cotton underwear, drawing a shiver from you. “Are lilacs still favorite flowers?”

His fingers played along your slit, the pads of his thumb pressing on your clit and rotating above the fabric, watching your hips jerk from the subtle pleasure.

“I think you missed me too,” Spencer held you, switching places so you now were encased between him and the wall, knowing that soon enough your knees wouldn’t be able to hold you up. His index and middle finger filled you up in a way only he could, the tips of them curving in his direction as he hit the bumpy ridge inside of you.

You held his shoulder, uncaring that your nails dug into the expensive button up he wore, admiring that he always preferred quality over quantity. Your face contorted in pleasure as his fingers only pumped faster inside of your vagina, only smirking at the sorry attempt of a nod you gave to answer him because he had rendered you speechless.

You felt the climb of your orgasm rise in your stomach, reaching all the way to the rest of your limbs, making them feel as if they were just static attached to your body until his fingers ceased, sensing how you clenched around them desperately. Your mouth opened, protests ready to fall out while he grasped the back of your knees, signaling you to jump so he could carry you to your bedroom.

“Why are you always such a tease?” You groaned, endearingly grabbing the hair at the nape of his neck.

“I can’t just let your greedy pussy swallow my fingers and cum from just that...” he tosses you into your sheets gently, leaning down to take your top off and throwing it somewhere to be rediscovered again.

He watches silently as you lift your hips off the mattress, panties sliding down your calves to your ankles, and finally off. Spencer gazes down at you, your jaw in his two hands, staring up with puppy eyes. He let a line of swears spring from his mouth, wondering why you looked so innocent when your hands were planted on his hips, licking the precum that made a wet patch on the side of his pants.

“Quite unfair that I’m the only one with my clothes off, don’t you think?” Your hands settled on his belt buckle, the jingle of metal filling the room as you undid the button to his slacks as well. Tugging him by the band of his boxers to lay on the bed with you, Spencer caught the cue and laid against the headboard. He trailed his left hand along your thighs, lifting you to straddle him as his right latched onto your breasts, squeezing.

“Please sit,” He said, taking a nipple into his mouth, “On my face.”

You sat in a slightly worried daze, Spencer catching the clue to just move you into the position. You found yourself facing the mirror at the foot of your bed, your ass in his face as he grabbed at your hips, trying to bring you higher and get a taste.

“Are you sure?” You apprehensively twisted your torso to eye him, taking note that the two of you had came across something you’d quite done before.

“Yes, I need you to.” Spencer reached his arm around, gently rubbing your clit, and feeling how your whole body relaxed from above him, as he repeated affirmations against your back.

You watched from the mirror, your ass propped up in his face and lips swollen. You could even see when you began the swivel of your hips into him. He didn’t need to say much else before you arched your back, planting your pussy right above his lips.

“You’re so pretty.” He whispered, before running his tongue flatly against your pussy.

Your hips jerked back and fourth, riding on the surface of his tongue that enveloped your clit, sucking on it harshly until he flatly ran it up. His fingers were back at work, touching the places where his tongue couldn’t reach. You determined that this position was now one of your favorites, your hands that were once placed on the tops of his thighs reaching for the bludge in his boxers.

You tried pulling them just far enough so you could begin to run your hands up and down his cock. Spencer’s tongue only assaulted your clit harder when you leaned down, allowing him a new angle so you could push him into your mouth, collecting the precum that had spilt, humming in delight.

Spencer couldn’t stop the thrusting of his hips upwards, burying himself deeper down your throat, both of your moans viberating off the atoms in your room. Your eyes wandered up as you watched, hypnotized at the reflection of you two. It made you wanna take his dick deeper, taking him to the back of your throat as you felt his cum ripple out.

Your orgasm only took a few more seconds to follow his, your moan muffled from your jaw expanded around his cock. Your hasty breaths harbored his while you saw stars. You were casted out of your stupor when you felt the palm of his hand rub circles into your ass, hand coming down in a smack.

“This fucking pussy has me whipped.” Spencer sighed, pressing a kiss exactly where his hand last struck.

When you positioned yourself back across his abdomen, you kneeled, kissing him. You felt him twitch under you from tasting himself on your tongue, reaching down to line up his cock to enter you.

Spencer stared up at you, his eyes wide as he took in the sight of you slowly descending your pussy on his cock. His hands traced the hickies that dawned on your chest, then to his on his lower stomach, watching how the two of you connected. These were marks of possession— ones that he could finally show off.

You rolled your hips against his, slowly circling them and allowing him to hit the most sensitive parts of you. You felt so much fuller than usual, the feeling taking your breath away. Nobody else could reach those heights that Spencer gave you. Maybe it was also because nobody else could occupy your mind like he could, either.

He pulled you down so the two of you could reunite your lips, wearing away at the callouses that had formed around your heart. His thumb drew slow circles on your clit, pulling your orgasm out so you could cum above him. It took a few more thrusts before he came inside you, continuing to fuck his seed back into you from below for just a while longer. When Spencer’s hips stilled, he kept inside, basking in the embodiment of you that wholly consumed him.

He silently traced the outlines of your features, your eye lids fluttering as he reached to them. His fingernails scratched your scalp im a rythem that lulled you into hazy exhaustion. You feel his stare on your face as it occurs to him that he was doomed from the start. You were a wonder to behold.

“Spencer?”

“Yes?”

“Did you forget all of the things I remember?”

“I don’t think I could even if I tried.”

masterlist

#spencerscoven #spencer reid #criminal minds fic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #mgg #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid x reader #angst #bau #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic

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heyitsyn · 4 years

Text

Keeping Up With Seijoh Ep. 4

a/n: uwuwuwuwu @animesportboys and i were just talking about this and my heart was just bursting at this thought 😭

for more seijoh content, check this masterlist out!

also requests are currently closed right now since i have like nearly 30 to finish so please be patient with me and wait for me to finish it all and until then i can open them up again. however, dont stop sending me cute stuff okay? 🥺

summary: its the time of the month for seijoh’s manager 🥺

@ yn when shes extra moody and mean during that time and does this every time she hears anything even come out of the boys’ mouth

oh dear

so basically

it’s,,,,,, a natural thing that most girls go through every month for more than half of their lives and its absolutely D R E A D F U L

the boys ofc knew what the hell a period was bc hello health class so they knew you would become this,,, other version of yourself

youd be moodier, childish, and easy to annoy and snap to everyone

but you would quickly realize how you’re acting then be all regretful and teary and cry easily and then youd forget about it then start the cycle again

you’d stick your tongue out at them and tease them mercilessly, making them run even more laps and pushing them harder

‘I SEE THOSE ARMS SHAKING, IWAIZUMI HAJIME. ADD 15 MORE TO THAT ROUTINE’

‘WHAT?!’

‘IF I SEE YOU EVEN A STEP BEHIND KINDAICHI, YOU WILL BE RUNNING 8 MORE LAPS KUNIMI’

‘NOO!!!!’

‘CHECK YOURSELF OUT ONE MORE TIME, YAHABA, I WILL GOUGE OUT YOUR EYES’

‘HAVE MERCY!!!!’

dear god they hated it

when it was time, they would protect themselves and work even harder and be more perfect to make sure you couldnt see their faults and point them out and try and kill them

it was like war for everyone

but they didnt know the exact date it started so they didnt really know when to start preparing for war until it came

this time, you didnt either

you didnt even know you were starting as you were extra busy booking the buses for away comps and collecting and emailing teachers for any missed homeworks for the team

so when it did start,,,

oh dear part 2

it wasnt really something you found out when you woke up that morning but you noticed you must be getting close since you were feeling extra cranky and you havent even been awake for more than an hour

nothing really happened throughout the day so you were just thinking that you didnt get enough sleep last night so you were just tired and wanted to sleep

but then it happened

you were standing next to iwa, reviewing his spike percentages when you shifted your weight to the other leg and then your eyes widened

your water broke

i saw this tiktok of this one girl and she was about to start filming with her friend when her eyes widened and her friend knew immediately and her caption was ‘my water broke’

iwa was worried as heck on to what was going on with you and even followed your gaze to see it on the wall and nothing out of the ordinary

‘y/n?’

‘oh god’

you mumbled and you wanted to run but you were too scared that you leaked and probably have an obvious redness on your white track pants

yep it def was your time bc you felt tears welling up in your eyes and you sniffled, embarrassed and upset for this to happen now, of all times

then oikawa tooru bursted through the doors

iwa, taking his eyes off of you and to the captain, started to yell at him until he noticed the brunette’s flushed face and panting form, hunched over as he gripped on the door handle with the plastic bag

you, too busy trying to think of a way to get out of there like deciding to waddle or to just crawl, didnt see oikawa as he approached you

the team paused and watched as he took a black hoodie from the plastic bag and wrapped it around your waist

‘hmm, y/n-chan, better get dressed so we can go now’

he hummed and you snapped out of your panic and looked up at him with watery eyes

‘oikawa-san’

you whispered and he nodded, eyes knowing what was going on

‘coach, theres a planetarium special tonight’

oikawa shouted without tearing his gaze away from you and coach irihata instantly knew, knowing the code that oikawa came up with when you became a part of the family team

the elder coach made a noise of agreement and oikawa didnt wait to up and carry you in his arms and waved to the team while pushing your head in his chest so you can hide

‘work hard everyone!’

‘oi, shittykawa! what the hell-!’

but an intense side-eye from his best friend shut him up and he knew something happened so he didnt say anything since he trusts oikawa to fix it

‘i trust you will take care of them, iwa-chan’

iwaizumi nodded firmly before shouting to resume back to practice and he himself went back to the line for spikes

you were carried to the bathroom so you could change into your emergency undies and pad and after you did your business, oikawa noticed you uncomfortably waddling towards him so he took you back into his arms

oikawa continued to carry you like his bride down the street towards an unknown destination, humming a children’s show tune that takeru loved to watch, while you maintained curled around yourself, partly due to the shame but also from the pain in your abdomen

you wiped the few stray tears that spilled past your eyes and oikawa chuckled when he noticed you aggressively wipe them off

‘hmm, y/n-chan, you shouldnt do that to yourself. it irritates your eyes and the skin around it so gently dab it next time, kay?’

you nodded, burrowing back to his chest and breathing in his scent

french toast

he smelled like french toast as the smell of caramel and vanilla wafted into your nose

‘howd you know’

you mumbled against the fabric of his jacket

oikawa stopped his humming and replaced it with a chuckle

‘oh, y/n-chan. oikawa-san is a reliable senpai, dont you know? i got a tracker! just for you!’

he answered and your eyes moved from his arm to his smile and you gripped his jacket tighter, fingers curled around it as if it was your lifeline

‘thank you, oikawa-san’

your words of appreciation made oikawa’s heart thump and he faltered a little, blush creeping up his neck, but he fought it down, covering it up with a smirk

‘you should be, y/n-chan! girls would kill to be you right now!’

you rolled your eyes at the return of his cocky attitude but you knew better

the real oikawa tooru was under that mask

turns out, he carried you to his home as his house was the closest while yours had to be taken by a bus

thankfully his parents were out and his sister and nephew were in a trip in tokyo that you had the house to yourselves without anyone asking questions that might make you uncomfortable and them misunderstand

he shut the door with his foot and made his way up the stairs with ease, his strength truly impressing you at that moment, before settling you down on his bed

it wasnt even on purpose but you curled yourself on his blanket, head buried in his pillow

his heart combusted and tooru had to look away or else he wouldve jumped on you and coddled you forever

instead, he quickly ran over and knelt down under his desk to reach for the box that he has prepared for you

‘y/n-chan, i never knew your pattern until last month so i was able to prepare for you now’

you looked up from your position on the bed and sat up enough to see him standing there, grinning with a mint green box

‘wh-what is that?’

you asked and he shuffled over, sitting next to you

‘this, is the y/n care love box! this special box was created by yours truly with everything you want and need during this dreadful week. theres your favorite food, warm socks, coupons you can spend like watching movies and eating ten tubs of ice cream while we talk shit about the boys’

he listed, gripping the box nervously

‘so? do you like it?’

he looked away from the box and to you but his smile slipped into a panicked one when he saw you silently crying and biting your lip to keep the sobs in

‘y-y/n-chan! i-its okay if y-you dont like it! o-oikawa-san can-’

‘no!’

you cut him off and lunged to hug him with all your might

hehe all might

E A T T H I S

‘i love you so much, oikawa-san! so much! thank you!’

you sobbed into his neck and he tightly hugged you back, lifting you so you could comfortably sit on his lap straddle him if you want me to be straight forward

oikawa gently moved so he was leaning against the wall that his bed was pressed against while you were pressed against his warmth

his fingers were drawing small circles on your back and whispering corny jokes or puns that made you giggle and laugh and occassionally, he would kiss your nose and you would whine at the ticklish feeling

eyes fleeting around the room, your eyes settled back on the box and you reached out, wanting to grab it until oikawa beat you to it and snatched it for you then placed it on your hold

‘whats inside, oikawa-san?’

you cutely mumbled, sitting comfortably back on his thighs so you could open the box in front of you

oikawa laughed

‘just open it and figure it out yourself, y/n-chan’

you pouted at his tease but smiled widely when you revealed the contents inside

‘oikawa-san!’

his eyes followed your surprised expression and his hands gripped your waist

‘you like it?’

he whispered and you nodded, looking back up at him and kissing his cheek, his

‘youre so sweet, oikawa-san! like-like this candy bar! howd you know i like this?’

you held up the treat and he shrugged

‘i keep seeing you get it whenever we go to the store’

you continued to sift through the things, seeing a dvd of your favorite movie, a f/c heating pad, a note that said your favorite ice cream was in the fridge, a bag of your favorite chips, fluffy socks, the goodies

you didnt even notice yourself crying again, only realizing it when there were wet spots beneath you

oikawa saw this and he quickly but gently put the box to the side and cradled your face with both of his hands, softly wiping the tears away with his thumbs

‘aw, dont cry, my little baby. princesses should never cry’

you sniffled and choked a laugh

‘hah, n-not a baby. j-just hor-monal’

you complained and oikawa snickered but shook his head then kissed your nose again

‘youre my baby’

you didnt have it in you to complain so you went back to snuggling into him

oikawa squeezed you and went back to drawing the circles on your back and he felt you relax into his touch and slump against his form, slowly starting to snore

your head rested on his shoulder and he turned slightly to watch your eyes flutter and nose scrunch when a strand of your hair fell on it

his heart continued to beat faster and faster and it showed by the way his fingers shook as he carefully lifted the hair away from you

he slowly bent down to give you a kiss on the forehead before laying you down to sleep more comfortably

‘good night, princess’

he sweetly placed a last kiss on your cheek before getting up to go prepare your heating pad for when you wake up

the next few days were possibly the best period days youve ever had

maybe because it was oikawa telling the team that you were in,,,,, satan’s domain currently and they should be careful with you so they tried their best to lift the weight and burden off of your shoulders

however,,

the next day after the incident,,,

they still didnt know what was wrong with you and oikawa forgot to text the gc about your condition so they were still unknowing

like today

during your classes, you were feeling off, almost nauseous but eating little bits of your chocolate treats were helping you get through until lunch

ofc kunimi noticed bc hellow he sits next to you and he doesnt pay attention during class so hes been watching you sneak little bites so the teacher doesnt see and ducking under your book

he was just amused with the way your eyes would widen if you thought the teacher caught you

kindaichi and kunimi and you usually ate lunch together at your classroom since you three only got to hang out as first years during lunch

so they know you usually have a bento with you and have a general idea of how much you eat

and kunimi thought since you ate all those chocolates earlier, you wouldnt eat as much food but then he saw you scarf down your bento, eat 2 more bags of chips and was finishing last chocolate bar

kindaichi,,,, wasnt even finished with his own bento and was watching you, amazed, at how easily you ate all of it

they didnt say anything since they thought you just didnt eat dinner last night but even during the walk towards the gym for after school practice, you were complaining that you were hungry and was eating another chocolate bar

they thought something was truly wrong bc you were eating so much more than usual

kunimi watched you chew on it as you opened the gym door and still ate even when you were talking to mattsun about his jump height

‘man, you sure are hungry, aren’t you, y/n? thats like your fifth chocolate bar today’

kunimi teased, grabbing a ball to spike but he froze, seeing you with the coldest and angriest look hes ever seen

you blinked at him, grip tightening on the treat, and mattsun slowly backing away from you

you advanced towards the blep boy, treat already forgotten and shoved to be held by mattsun

despite your shorter height than kunimi, he trembled slightly as you looked up at him

‘are you calling me fat, kunimi? are you? am i fat? do you think im ugly? im a piggie?’

you ranted and slowly started crying, making kunimi frantically scramble to stop you before the other upperclassmen see or worse, oikawa-san

‘y/n-wait-no!-um’

‘y/n-chan?’

kunimi shut his eyes tightly in fear at the deadly sweet voice of his captain and kindaichi and mattsun sent a quick prayer to their fellow teammate before he was going to get killed

‘uh oh, i think we’d have to start looking for a replacement for kunimi’

makki, who just arrived, teased making kindaichi fearfully look at him

‘eh?!’

‘oh, you first years have never seen oikawa mad, have ya? well, you’ll get front seat of it!’

mattsun clapped him in the back making him gulp

you werent sobbing but you were definitely crying, tear tracks quickly being wetted by the numerous amount of tears that fell

kunimi scrambled to his knees and folded himself, forehead resting on the floor by his hands

‘I APOLOGIZE! PLEASE DONT KILL ME! I APOLOGIZE! PLEASE FIND MERCY IN YOURSELF AND FORGIVE ME, Y/N-SAMA!’

it was certainly a sight to see

normally calm and collected and chill and relaxed hippie kunimi begging to be forgiven

oikawa stepped forward but you quickly felt the change of your mood, feeling bad for your boy and scrambling to pull him back up

‘oh kunimi-kun! dont kneel like that! the floor is too hard and might give you knee pain!’

it was like whiplash

iwa stepped in the gym and saw the team’s confused and bewildered expressions and saw you, kunimi, and oikawa and he shook his head

this aint even half of bad as he has seen

oikawa gently took you away from kunimi and held you to him instead, giving you a smile, to which you returned, and looked at kunimi, a deadly glint in his eye

‘what happened, y/n-chan?’

the tone of his voice sent a chill to run down everyone’s spines and even iwa, the boy who’s seen this a handful of times, shivered and nervously watched oikawa, ready to jump in

but you just blinked, completely unaware of the change of atmosphere

‘oh, um, i overreacted. i was eating too much food today and mustve annoyed him or something’

you sheepishly mumbled but oikawa was having none of it

‘no, its fine. youre literally bleeding out as we speak! dont feel the need to validate yourself!’

he lightly scolded while you hung your head low and continued to apologize but he gently bonked your head before scolding you again

the team definitely knew now that you were in that,,,, time and they definitely knew now, especially kunimi, that even if youve seen oikawa mad, youd think that the devil was more merciful than him when it relates to the topic of you

a/n: i swear to GGGOOOOODDDDDD im an oikawa whore who cant seem to stop writing for him!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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ladyboltontoyou · 5 years

Text

Arthur Morgan x Reader: Farmer’s Daughter

Ask: Ok well I was wondering if you could write an Arthur Morgan x Reader where the reader is the daughter of a rich farm owning family and Arthur rides up to the farm/ranch one day to scope the place out and see if they're easy to rob but somehow ends up with heart eyes for the reader and starts sneaking around to see her. Doesn't have to be smut, but that would be awesome. Thank you!

Warnings: Probably cursing. A bit of an age gap since Arthur is, you know, like 30 something, and the reader is still living with her parents.

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Reader

A/N: So this turned out longer than I had originally planned oops. ALso apparently freezers were invented around the 1830′s so don’t come at me for having ice cubes in Arthurs drink ok. I really hope this is what you imagined and it doesn’t seem rushed, even though I spent like 4 hours on it. Hope it’s not too short or too long. OKAY I’M DONE RAMBLING YOU CAN READ NOW.

The last thing you expected to see on a Friday afternoon was a stranger on a white horse riding up your dirt road. You had been reading a book on your upstairs balcony when you saw him, at first just a small white speck a ways away. But when that white speck started making noise you looked up and saw it was a man on a horse, a visitor. You rarely got visitors here that weren’t two men on a wagon full of supplies.

You set your book down on the table and leaned forward to get a better look as he neared the front of your house. He looked handsome enough, even though you were on the second story balcony and he was on the ground below. From what you could see he was a rugged man about thirty or so, not the kind of men your parents usually dealt with. Your curiosity got the best of you and you walked back inside and downstairs where you saw your father opening the front doors. One of his work friends stood beside him in case things were to go south, his hand sitting comfortably on his pistol as a gentle warning to the stranger that stood on your porch.

“Sorry to bother you folks, I was looking for the Braithwaite manor and it looks like I got myself lost. Do you know whereabouts that is?” His voice sounded so friendly and warm, you would never expect that he was there to see if you would be easy to ransack. You watched the conversation go down from the bottom step of the staircase and tried not to look too obvious.

Your father was totally oblivious and way too trusting. “No worries friend, these back roads are tricky. Fancy a drink? You look like you’ve been riding all day. Come inside and I’ll have my wife draw you up some directions.”

The man looked hesitant but eventually shrugged. “You’re too kind. I’d really appreciate it.”

You took the chance to walk into the tea room since you knew they’d come inside any minute, and you didn’t want to look suspicious. Plus, you wanted to be nosey, it wasn’t often attractive strangers came by. You sat down at the table and picked up the book from the table, something you had already read before, and tried your best to look as if you had been doing it for some time already.

“Who’s that man outside?” Your mother had snuck up behind you and scared the daylights out of you when she leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“I don’t know.” You said after you recovered from the scare. “But he sure is good looking.”

She peaked at the front door and nodded in approval at your taste. “You’re not wrong about that.” Thank god it was your mother and not your grandmother, she would have chided you for hours about being indecent.

Finally, they came in and the man took off his hat, looking around as his eyes adjusted to the change of light. He looked even better looking close up. His facial hair was trimmed neatly but looked like it had grown in a little, the hair on his head the same. His face was partially spotted from the dust in the air from horse hooves but he didn’t look truly dirty, nothing compared to your farmboys.

He looked around and seemed impressed with the place, his eyes looking into every room he could see from his spot. When he looked into the room your father began walking into, the tea room, he only spared you a short glance.

Alright, well, you weren’t used to that. Most men who saw you immediately started complimenting your parents on how gorgeous you were, praising you and never failing to remark some version of ‘You’ll make a wonderful wife/Someone a very happy husband/Beautiful children’. But he didn’t say a thing.

“Darling, would you be so kind as to draw some directions from here to Braithwaite manor? Our friend here has gotten lost.” Your father asked your mother who smiled and obliged, heading upstairs to get some paper. “Oh! I didn’t even see you there!” He said when he noticed you sitting on the couch. “Could you bring our guest some tea?”

The stranger looked at you and looked like he was about to decline and tell you not to worry yourself but you were already standing up. “Sure thing daddy, need anything else?” You asked sweetly with a smile.

Your father looked to the man who just shook his head and tried to say ‘I’m fine’ and ‘No thank you’ at the same time. “No, I’m, thank you,” He jumbled over his words and looked visibly embarrassed. “I’m alright.”

You smiled widely, amused by that. He looked away and scratched the back of his head awkwardly. Your father paid no mind and led him to the couch, talking about how harsh the month had been with no rain at all.

When you got back from the kitchen with a glass of tea he looked up and accepted the glass from you happily, muttering a ‘thanks’ before he almost chugged the entire thing, even chewing on some of the ice. Your mother came down the stairs with a piece of paper in hand and one of your nice fountain pens in the other.

“You’ll have to excuse my writing, I’m not the best artist.” She joked and sat on the single chair across from the couch. “You should have told our artist here to do it instead, she could draw him the best map he’d ever laid his eyes on.” She joked and you tried not to let them see how bashful she made you. She always bragged about you and anything you did, you could draw something purposefully awful and she would still treat it like a priceless painting.

“Oh it’s alright, I’m sure I’ll manage.” He chuckled, taking more ice into his mouth.

You sat down on the other side of the couch and watched the man from the corner of your eye. He looked around the house while his jaw moved to chew the ice as if he was taking note of every single window and door. “Say, you folks-”

Your mother sighed in frustration, putting two fingers on her forehead in exasperation. “I’m sorry, I can barely draw a line. Darling, could you please?” She slid the paper across the table and gave you a sweet look.

“I’ll try.” You laughed and leaned down, taking the pen from her.

“What were you saying?” Your father asked from his seat and the man looked confused before he remembered.

“I was just going to ask if you knew of some good people to hire for security. Assuming those men at the end of the road are what I’m thinkin’ they are.”

“Yes, they work for a man named Michael, he hires men that used to be in the war and sells their services to those who can afford it.” Your father said proudly. Arthur just nodded.

“Here’s the house.” You said to the man as you drew a small house next to the scribbles your mother had done. He scooted closer to you carefully and watched as you drew. “And here’s the road. The corn fields are on the right, the tobacco on the left.” You kept talking as you drew and tried to focus on moving the pen instead of how close he was to you. His body heat radiated off of him and grazed your bare arm and neck, you could hear him breathing slowly. He smelt like smoke and day-old cologne mixed with the leather from his coat.

As you gave him directions he would never need Arthur felt morality tug at his heartstrings. You were such good people, welcoming him into your home and showing such hospitality. He would have to tell Dutch there was no way, there were too many workers and guards, he would make something up. He came expecting a snooty rich family but was caught off guard by good people. You all had the generosity, kindness, and respect of poor folk.

When you finished you slid the map over on the table. “Let it sit for a minute before you touch it, the ink’s still wet.” You warned and put the cap back on the pen. “Especially here.” You laughed softly and pointed at the words of his destination where you had spelled it wrong the first time and scratched it out.

He nodded and muttered an ‘alright’, looking at you from a side glance. Your father talked for a while about the people who lived in the manor, not being shy about his opinion. Arthur couldn’t have agreed more but he kept up his facade and played dumb.

“It’s dry now.” You said and Arthur looked away from your father. You were looking at the paper so he took the chance to actually look at you, unintentionally admiring you. Normally he was good about keeping his eyes where they belonged. If there was anyone who respected women it was Arthur, but it was hard not to appreciate your beauty. He figured your sweetness was the only reason he stared. It had been a while since he saw a sweet girl who wasn’t trying to pickpocket him or get him to spend a fortune in the saloon.

“Thank you.” He picked up the paper and admired your work. One of the few things he could really appreciate was art. You drew so effortlessly, the small roads and hills looked like the maps he’d seen the professionals sell. “Well, I reckon I better be on my way, I’ve taken up too much of your time.”

“Not at all.” Your father stood up and so did the stranger. They shook hands as he thanked your father who shook him off and pat his back a few times. “You sure there’s nothing else we could do for you?”

“You’ve done more than enough.” He promised and looked back to you and your mother, the paper held gently in his hands. “Thank you both for your hospitality. And for the map.” He held up the paper and you smiled, causing him to unknowingly do the same.

When he started walking out the door with your father you ran upstairs and almost fell off your balcony to watch him ride off. The hot wind hit your face when you reached the banister, just in time to watch him ride off. He put his hat back on and took one last look behind him, not failing to notice the beautiful young girl watching him leave.

***

The frogs and crickets sang while the fireflies lit the black air with soft pulsating gold. You were on your banister half reading a book and half watching the farmboys work in the fields below, their lanterns bobbing gently through the rows of plants, stopping occasionally to pull up weeds or a dead plant.

It was hard to read. It was stupid to even try. But there was nothing else to do to take your mind off of your thoughts, even though reading wasn’t doing a good job at that. At least it was something.

A dog barking in the distance made you set your book down. It was the dogs they kept up at the end of the road to warn when someone was coming. You waited a minute to see if they would calm down but they didn’t. You heard your father yell downstairs to the men at the end of the road, and they responded with something about deer in the woods.

You believed it for a moment until you heard rattling from the other side of your balcony. The first thing that came to mind was some kind of greasy gunslinging bastard but before you could start screaming two arms hooked over the side of the ledge, covered by that same damn leather jacket you had been so close to earlier.

It shouldn’t have made you feel any better considering his original intentions were to rob your family for everything they had. But for some reason you had a feeling he wasn’t a threat to you. That made you incredibly stupid and naive but thankfully, for once, you were right in this situation.

When he finally pulled himself over he looked surprised to see you standing there watching him. “Now, before you start screaming,” He said as he reached up to grab the lantern that hung above him. “I’m not here to hurt you or anything like that.” He blew out the small flame and the two of you were suddenly surrounded by darkness.

“Then why are you here?” You asked cautiously. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to see him again, but the last thing you expected was this. If anyone saw him your father's politeness would be out the window as well as Arthur.

He sighed as if he didn’t know why himself. “You been on my mind girl, and I don’t know why. I don’t know why my dumbass thought it would be a good idea to risk not only my ass but yours, just to come back up here and ask for your name.”

You covered your mouth to stifle that bubbled in your throat. “Truly? That’s why?”

Arthur laughed softly, shaking his head when he realized how ridiculous it was. “I suppose so. And I wanted to ask for another one of those hundred-dollar drawings you make.”

You laughed again and put your fingers on the bottom lip you held between your teeth. “Oh yeah? Was my map that good?”

He grinned and looked down at his boots, kicking them against the floor to kick some pebbles loose from the bottoms. He couldn’t believe how young he felt then, like he was only sixteen again flirting around with the farmer's daughter. The only thing different from that was he was much, much, much older. If the other men in the gang saw him they’d make fun of him till the day he died for sneaking around for a girl.

“Well, okay, I guess I can make you something.” You smiled while biting your lip. He put on a show of acting grateful, clasping his hands together and placing them in front of his forehead. When you recovered from quiet laughter you went into your room to get some paper and a pencil. You made sure both your doors were locked before you went back onto your dark balcony. You stopped in the open doorway, noticing how little you could see. There was no way you could draw anything out there unless a lantern was lit, but that would be too bright and anyone nearby would be able to see the two of you. “I can’t see out here, maybe we should go in my room.”

He was reluctant for a minute, considering how fast he’d be able to run and jump out the balcony if need be. “Yeah, sure.” He sighed and walked towards the doors. The spurs on his boots lightly jingled and you could hear fabric moving against fabric as he moved past you into your dimly lit room. “Been a while since I’ve been in a room this nice.” He admitted as he looked around your room.

“You live in a barn then?” You teased and sat down at the table near the windows. “Oh, I never told you my name. It’s (Y/N).”

Arthur leaned against the wall near you and crossed his ankles, nodding as he thought over your name. “(Y/N). Never met anyone with that name before.”

You smiled proudly, twirling the pencil in your fingers. “And yours?”

He paused, considering while he looked out the window. “Arthur.” He said finally and looked back to you.

“Arthur.” You mused before remembering what you were supposed to be doing. “Ah, sorry, what did you say you want me to draw you?”

He snorted and crossed his arms. “I didn’t give that any thought, do anything you’d like.”

You bit your lip and looked him up and down. “Okay. It might take me a little while though.” He wanted to say ‘good’, but held his tongue and settled for a ‘That’s okay’.

After about an hour of talking, constant talking, you were finally finished. “If I had longer I could have done better, but, here.” You slid the paper across the table to him. After a while, he got tired and had sat down across from you.

He took the paper in his hands and squinted before his eyes widened. “Christ, girl.” He breathed and looked over the lines and shading. “You’re better than me.”

“You draw too?” You asked with sudden interest but he didn’t respond, he was too caught up in the paper in front of him.

“I can’t believe this. Did you take a picture of me when I wasn’t looking?” He shook his head and scratched his chin as he continued admiring it.

You blushed and ran a hand through your hair, he made you into a flustered mess with those praises. They were different when they were coming from someone who wasn’t kin. “Thank you.” It was all you could say. You didn’t expect him to like it that much, it was a hurried sketch of him leaning against your wall, but as much as you liked to pretend your art wasn’t that good there was no denying that this was an exceptionally realistic drawing. You were almost sad to see it go.

Arthur shook his head and looked up from the paper, looking at you completely different. Like how your father looked at your mother the first time he saw her shoot a gun. Newfound respect and admiration glinted in those pretty blue eyes of his, all directed to you. He was going to say something else but the sounds of heels coming up the stairway stopped him.

“(Y/N)! I just found a letter from June, it came yesterday but-” She grabbed your doorknob and tried to open it, only succeeding in causing the door to shake slightly. Arthur looked at you with wide eyes as she called out your name a second time.

“Go, hurry!” You whispered and he sat up as quickly and quietly as he could, tiptoeing to the open doors. “One second, I’m changing into my nightdress!” You called back to her as you rushed the grown man out of your room.

He paused in the same spot he had climbed up, one hand on the jasmine covered lattice he had used as a ladder. “Could I come see you again?” He asked boldly, the paper in his hand slightly moving from the breeze.

You laughed in disbelief. “There’s no way I could say no to that. You better.”

Arthur smiled then, the widest and cheesiest smile he had worn in a while. If it wasn’t for the lantern sitting inside your room next to the window he stood near, you wouldn’t have seen it. You wanted to say more, but he swung his legs over the edge and left you to explain to your mother why you spent so long doing something so simple.

#red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #red dead redemption 2 x reader #arthur morgan imagines #rdr2 imagines #rdr2 x reader #ask #request #myfanfic #farmersdaughter

1K notes · View notes

scenarihoes · 5 years

Note

it looks like your requests are still open, so I’m comin in hot wiiiith some spicy nonsense: how do you feel about a shinsou x reader nsfw scenario? shinsou’s got dirty-talking dom vibes to me and i’m weak 😩💦 if there happens to be orgasm denial/edging and/or overstimulation involved i would love you forever, just so you know 😉😏💜

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOF

HUUUUGE AUTHORS NOTE! PLEASE READ!

ok so. only bout half this fic is finished LOL i really really really wanted to finish all of it, but i really just couldnt bring myself to.. it’s like, done? but not entirely polished yknow? that being said please excuse typos and grammar issues in the second half.. again, im really sorry!

please enjoy what i have regardless! i promise its still, how do i say,

hot.

—————

Hour One.

With narrowed eyes and lips pressed into a tight line, irritation makes it hard for Shinsou to shove the key into the lock properly. He’s glaring at you from the corners of his vision, taking in your smug posture and the corners of your lips upturned mischievously. It’s just barely past 10 pm and he can already feel the draw pulling him in with every step you take despite his annoyances.

“I can’t believe you sometimes,” he says dully, hanging his coat on the rack while the door clicks shut. His fingers work his tie off his neck. “I should have known something like this would happen.”

You hum, bemused. “I’m afraid I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“Really? You were practically eye-fucking me the whole night in front of everyone.”

“It’s not like they were watching me. All eyes were on you.”

“Exactly.” Shinsou grunts as he slips his shoes off and nudges them on the mat with his toes. “You wear my brain out, acting like that just for a reaction.”

You bring a hand on to your mouth, a fake gasp sounding. “Why I would never!”

Choosing the perfect moment, you bend down and contort yourself just right to bare your thong for him. Your short dress offers a spectacular view, along with your V neck that cuts just a little bit too low. He knew you’d pick that one, he really did. It always got him a little hot under the collar and you took every chance you could to exploit that little fact.

Before you can even start to pull your heels off, bend over with one hand pressed against the door while the other words at the straps, you feel palms suddenly on either side of your hips. Instantly you’re grinning ear to ear.

“You’re always doing things like this to me in public,” he speaks like it doesn’t matter to him, but it does. He’s so bothered and it’s exactly what you wanted. “Making me work just to keep a straight face. You’re lucky I didn’t drag you into the bathroom and make you walk back out full of my cum.”

“You would have liked that, wouldn’t you have?” Dangerous, devious, you press both hands flat to the wall and rut yourself against him. When he responds equally as lustful, you can’t help but snicker at him. “I thought you said you were tired.”

“I said you wear my brain out, not that I was tired. Besides, do you honestly believe you deserve to just get a pass for tonight?”

Already Shinsou’s half hard against you, tenting in his formal pants. The grip on your waist tightens and while usually this would be the moment he pulls away with irritated grunt, he holds fast. He lets himself grind against you in such a easy, languid pace. Your breath catches in your throat when one of this hands wanders away and finds itself grasping your forearm. Without much time to brace yourself your hand is yanked from the wall and brought behind your back, then your other arm follows suite. He nudges your chest to the wall and clicks his tongue when you giggle.

“Don’t you think you’re enjoying this a little too much?” He taunts.

“I would enjoy it a whole lot more if you started actually touching me.”

Suddenly you’re shoved forward, cheek hitting the wall. He holds your arms taut behind your back. “What did I say about getting off easy?” He damn near growls. “During the downtime between your little stunts I had a lot of time to think about what I planned doing to you once we got home.”

“You fantasized about me while conversing with your friends? Now, what would they do if they found out everyone's favorite hero had such a dirty mind?”

His hand leaves your waist and a sharp smack is delivered to your ass. You hiss between your teeth as he brings his lips close to your ear. “Probably the same thoughts they’d have should they find out said hero’s wife is such a cock-hungry slut.”

Shinsou can feel a shiver rippling through you while his teeth clip and graze the skin of your neck, one hand strong enough to hold both your arms tucked behind your back while other starts to explore further. His broad palm hovers only an inch above your skin and he makes sure you’re aware of the way he just barely misses your breasts. Only when you try to arch into his palms does he pull away and instead find his hand catching your throat.

“You’re awfully impatient. You’ve had the whole night to prepare for this and you’re already rushing?”

“I haven’t been preparing anything. I’ve been waiting. I’ve had to wait the whole night for this,” Over your shoulder, you glance at him deviously. “Waited the whole night just for you fuck me. You should consider yourself lucky.”

Shinsou’s eyebrows raise like he can’t actually believe what you’re saying. It only takes a moment of processing before the lights of his eyes darken, his grip tightening, and you nearly wheeze at his thumb and index alone cutting your breath off. “I’m lucky?”

Despite your position you still giggle. “I could have done so much worse.”

Something in him shakes, and then ruptures. It’s nothing in anger, or disdain, but it’s not soft either. He nearly let’s a growl leave him but for the sake of control, he withholds it.

“Worse?” Your body is pushed forward and held even tighter to the wall. “Believe me, I’m going to show you worse.”

————-

Hour two.

Funny how quickly everything can change in the blink of an eye. Seed to flower, sun to rain, spring to winter.

Deviosity to utter and entire frustration. Neediness, too. Neediness above all else.

Your back would press flat to to his chest if not for the way you fervently arch away from him. Lips on your neck to suck dark marks into your skin, one hand eagerly fondling the mounds of your breast while the other makes sure to pay close attention in making sure the vibrating wand is pressed nice and tightly to your clit. Squirming is futile with the unrelenting vibrations- he’s got you stuck fast in your place. From the moment you were trapped against the wall by the frame of him, a promise to take you apart slipping from his lips, you were silently begging for something more than just the feeling of his clothed cock pressed between your legs.

Even with the rush, he was sure that every step he made guiding you to the bedroom was calculated. The dress was gone long ago and abandoned onto the floor like it hadn’t cost you almost half a grand. Your heels followed suit but you didn’t mind that loss- they were starting to hurt your feet, after all. Your unsurprising lack of undergarments drove him insane but the man was able to hold back his ferocious need to destroy you right there.

He even approached it with humor. From the closet he retrieved a pair of pink, fuzzy handcuffs you’d bought as a joke. You watch in both anticipation as well as disbelief when he approached, ordered you to put your hands behind your back. Of course you obliged without too much tenacity. Make me, you wanted to tell him with a snarky grin, but the gleam in his eyes warns you that he just may. With ease he clips your arms behind your back, but the metal isn’t slapped around your wrists. He connects the cuffs on your upper arms and lets the fur sit snug, high enough on your forearms so that your chest is beautifully pushed outwards.

“Since you’re so eager to show all this off,” he’d remarked as he climbed behind you, kept you on your knees and used his own to ensure your legs were spread. “Then you shouldn’t have a problem with this.”

The moment he brought a vibrator and pressed it between your legs, you knew you were finished. He himself knew it all, could count in his head how long it would take before you met your resolve and melted into a puddle of need in his hands. As he looks at you, nudges the vibrator just a little higher up so you buck your hips with a whine, he congratulates himself. It makes him laugh, unbeknownst to you.

An entire evening of being patted on the back for his latest success and this was his crowning moment.

“Feel good?” He coos in a facade of sweetness. He kisses trails up and down the sides of your throat, eyes shut serenely. You whimper in his hold and a sickening grin plays on his lips, only to grow with every rattle of the cuffs. The sound reaches him like an upcoming victory, reminds him that you’re at his mercy all over again. How can he not get drunk off the feeling?

How can he not nibble your skin and roll the head of the toy against your clit just to make you gasp so cutely? You’re already shaking and it spurs him on even further, then suddenly he rolls the vibrator once more and your voice jumps an octave as it presses against your nerves at just the right spot. He holds it there, let’s you thrash and squirm as it almost becomes too much even before it’s entirely begun. You’ve yet to come even once, let alone feel the rapture he’s planning to bestow upon you.

“Fuck, Hitoshi-” Your head tips back. “Fuck-”

This is his favorite part. He waits like a predator, listens to the ruggedness of your breathing, watches your hands curl into tight, useless fists. You’re already close and it makes his skin buzz as his plans start to unravel right there on the bed. Your back arches, you thrash, he waits for you to tense and then it’s gone. He tears the toy away from your rolling hips before you can reach that perfect high.

Your reaction is feral and it lights him aflame. Aggravation and desperation looks so much better on you than any whorish dress you could ever even hope to taunt him with.

Hands fisting and unfisting, trapped between your bodies, all you can do is curse his name while your release begrudgingly climbs back down. Shinsou laughs like a sadist and shifts demeanors as though he’s a damn actor on broadway- one moment someone and the next a different person entirely. The laughter dies into soft hums, his grin snuffs into a gentle smile and he kisses the hickies on your neck and below your ear.

Soft voice, tongue lapping at your skin. “Were you close?”

All you can do is groan in response, bothered at the loss of your orgasm. He tsks, reaches up and grips a hand to your throat. Someone else, now.

“You should have expected this.”

“God, please, I was right there.” Your voice shakes and it only excites him. It makes him want to push you even further, but it’s all reruns. He’s taken you apart time and time again to the point where he’s turned you into the defination of the word mess, but damn if it isn’t fun to pretend it’s all shiny and new.

“That’s the point.” He doesn’t want you to come down too far, so he turns vibrator down to the lowest setting and offers you just the softest of pleasure. You take it like a luxury, grinding down against feeling instantly to your heart's content. With the low setting, it’s nowhere near enough stimulation to get you off but fuck if you won’t try your hardest to get there anyways. Like a challenge, Shinsou welcomes it, grins against your skin and keeps his palm to your neck while you roll your hips.

When you find that you really can’t meet your end, he eats up the frustrated whine you offer.

Your begging comes as natural as day to night. It’s not babbles, you haven’t been pushed far enough. He snickers to himself. Yet.

“Hitoshi,” You whine, sweet and submissive. “Please let me cum.”

“Oh?” He breathes against your shoulder. “Maybe I will, just to watch you cry for me.” He throws you a line with evil intentions. “Tell me, are you sorry for what you’ve done?”

“Yes,” The depth of your voice let’s him know that you think this is all there is. An apology, an empty promise. “I’m sorry baby, please let me cum, I won’t do it again. I want to cum so bad…”

Hook, line, and sinker.

Shinsou laughs.

“Don’t get your hopes up.”

———-

hour three.

it’s amazing just how much self control he’s gained over the years. had he been just a bit younger, he would have pounced the moment he pressed your body to the mattress and let the blankets fall in heaps around the edge. but, he’s glad he’s older now. glad he’s learned to really stop and smell the roses.

glad he’s learned to hold back just to take the back seat view as you practically fall apart in front of him.

with your face buried in your pillow, some of your pretty keens are slightly muffled, which is mildly disappointing. shinsou can deal with it, though. after all he’s much more interested in the way you’re still trying to chase your long since held off orgasm.

he’s still behind you but his demeanors had some altercations. he’s centered now, refocused. his hand drags the ever buzzing toy up and down your clit while you feebly try to match the pace with the rocking of your hips. he can’t imagine it’s comfortable with your arms trapped behind your back but hey, you’ve earned that. if anything it just enforces the idea that it’s exactly what it always was: punishment.

‘look at you, you’re a mess.’ he hums like he’s bored. ‘running your mouth about how my friends would feel if they found i was dirty minded, look at yourself.’

‘please-‘

‘don’t bother. you’ll cum when i say you can cum. until then, be good.’ he holds the toy straight to your clit and clicks it up a notch, tilts his head, watches when your hands curl into fists and your hips jerk. ‘think you can do that for me, hm? be good?’

you nod frantically and shake like a leaf. ‘y-yes si- fuck! yes sir!’

sir. it sounds nice in his head, he smugly leans back, that sadistic energy he started with resonating within him like a returning storm. he chuckles low in his chest and leans back so leisurely you’d nearly miss his erection should you sneak a glance.

he jumps the vibrator up to the highest sitting and he can’t hold back a grin when you arch and sob, rut your hips and still yourself until you’re finally climbing back up to that incredible edge. he lets you do it, too. he lets you moan and whimper and cry his name until you’re right there all over again. you’re trembling so hard it’s a wonder you don’t bust to pieces right there. your voice leaps higher, higher, you’re right there and pressing your clit flush against the buzzing sensation-

the pitiful scream that tears from your throat when he turns the toy off almost makes him feel bad.

almost.

tears spring from your eyes and he knows he’s finally won. you don’t even bother begging him at that point, face buried and cries muffles in the damp fabric of your pillow. it pulls at his heart in a strange way, but not enough for him to give in. not that easily. he just needs some assurance, a little confirmation that you’re his good girl and that you’ve learned your damn lesson.

he comforts you, pets his hands down the sweating curve of your spine and back up. you’re writhing in absolute need, aching for a release he’s been denying you for the better half of three hours. a deep, pensive sigh leaves him.

‘look at me,’ he says, and you do so without question. you look pitiful. crazy to think sex could turn you so pathetic before him. he runs his fingers through your hair, lets his eyes fall half lidded. ‘are you sorry?’

a hiccup leaves you as you nod. he nods as well.

‘and you’ve learned your lesson?’

‘yes sir.’ even through your choked sobs, you manage a steady voice long enough to answer him. it impresses him, brings a swell to his chest.

———-

hour four.

very gingerly, he nudges the toy against your clit and turns it on the lowest setting. you’re so over sensitive that you hiss through your teeth, eyes slipping shut, hips instantly rocking back against the familiar feeling. shinsou wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t trust him to let you follow through his time.

‘you wanna cum?’ he murmurs, and you nod, still trying to catch your breath while the intensity is low enough.

ah, what the hell.

he flicks it’s to the middle setting and sits back to watch you gasp and start to shake all over again. he torments you with that low vibration, lets you pretend to fuck yourself on the toy, rocking back and forth and stilling as it finds the perfect nerves to harass.

though it’s not the intensity you’d been begging for, he can see that it’s enough for you. your whimpers, curling toes and fingers, stuttering hips and twitching knees. you approach your end as quickly as it fell moments ago, but this time, shinsou doesn’t back down.

he lets you find the rise and the peak, and finally, finally the fall. god, how you crash around him. sputtered and broken moans spill from your throat like prayers, his name joining the mix in a beautiful chorus as you arch your back and rut your hips in tiny circles. you’re trembling but you’re still, the toy buzzing against your clit while your nerves travel in shivering waves of pleasure through the course of your body.

you’re babbling something through your ogasm as you ride it out, and only when he stops to listen does he really grasp what you’re subconsciously saying.

‘thank you sir, thank you, thank you, oh f-fuck, nggh- thank you,-‘

still rocking to ride the last of the euphoria out, shinsou feels pity in his chest when he gets the perfect idea. that same feeling when you’d first started to cry before him rises like a monument within him, but it’s not enough to deter his intentions.

you’ve still got a lesson to learn, after all. a little bit of tears was no promise.

as the last of your pleasure ebbs away, he remains where he is. he gets to watch like a spectator as your writhes of pleasure alternate and transform into a struggle to get away, hips cantering forward to escape the toy still remains ever pressed to your clit.

‘please- i can’t-!’ you gasp through your struggles to escape the pleasure, but he works you even deeper, works you ever harder. he jumps the intensity to high and holds your hips with his free hand just to keep you still while he presses it exactly where you can feel it the most. there’s nothing you can do but take it, the mind numbing pleasure, all too much as you’re forced to the edge all over again.

‘you can.’ he states as he watches. you arch and cry out through whimpered gasps, eyes squeezed shut, body tensed and stiff, you’re pushed into another orgasm before you even realize it. sharp keens make him wonder if you’re in pain, metaphorical stars dancing behind your eyelids. he pets you again as if he’s not the source of your agonizing pleasure.

‘no more, no more,’ you try to roll on your side to deter the feeling but shinsous got you in such a tight grasp that you can’t even rock your hips anymore. while your upper half is free to struggle in vain, your lower half is at his mercy. he makes sure you’re feeling it all as he lowers it to medium, only to jump it back to high when you’re finally able to start coming down.

———

hour four.

once more an onslaught of tears leak down your cheeks as incorrect please leave you. you cum again, and again, and again while he keeps his grip tight on your waist. everything feels like its too much, you’re shaking too much, feeling too much-

you cum again and something about the way you openly sob into the pillow makes him consider the simple concept of mercy. you’re so spent he knows you’re going to be sexed-out for the rest of the week, which in some ways, sucks, but this is too good to miss out on. the entire night had been perfect from the moment you boldly decided to tease him in plain sight to the instant you were beneath him torn apart by his very hands.

a deep breaths leaves him. you’ve learned your lesson.

‘good girl,’ he says, but he isn’t sure if you can hear him. he lowers the setting to medium, and then low, let’s you rut off the last of your final orgasm before he grants you the bliss of turning it off entirely. the very second you find yourself offered mercy, you turn to putty.

no energy, no drive, nothing left as you tip over onto your side and shake with the aftershocks. your arm tucks itself beneath you uncomfortably but your mind is elsewhere. given that it’s his fault, after all, shinsou decides it’s finally time to take care of you. he scoops you up into his arm and sighs deep into your hair, shuts his eyes and presses the latch on the cuffs that let you go free both metaphorically and physically. you don't even have the energy to wrap your arms around his shoulders. had there not been a lesson to be learned, he would have felt bad for pushing you so far overboard.

but this had been a lesson, so he doesn’t.

as he kisses the top of your head, he coos, ‘good girl.’ you pant and shake in his arms. ‘you were so good for me. are you okay?’

you can't speak, but you can nod, and so you do. slowly, languid in your exhaustion, you nod with shut eyes. shinsou smiles and breathes a laugh of relief, even though he knew you would be anyways.

his erection pressed against your back but he can’t bring himself to subject you to anything further. he very well could, gently fuck you and have you cum for him just one more time, but he decides against it. you’re beyond tired, and he can wait. what you need is a bath and 12 hours of good, deep, rest.

you’re still thankfully coherent as he gets up and carries you with him, bringing you to the bathroom connected to the bedroom. he sets you in the hardness of the tub and crawls in behind you, runs his hand through your hair and kisses the dark hickies he’s painted onto the canvas of your throat while he makes the water run.

he coos your name, and you make some noise of acknowledgement.

‘i love you.’ he murmurs, and if humans could purr, you would have done so. he smiled against your skin and whispers it again, three times, four and then he lets the hot water lull you to sleep.

the bath is warm against his skin, and he kisses the top of your head once more.

the perfect night.

#bnha #mha #shinsou hitoshi #lemon #i hatte that tag LOL #my hero academia #boku no hero academia

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xxwritemeastoryxx · 5 years

Text

Forgotten Alliance Ch. 8

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Eventual Elijah Mikaelson x OC with other parings mentioned throughout.

Word Count: 4.2K

Warnings: Canon Typical things

Author’s Note: As a reminder, FA can be found on ffnet up to chapter 42. I am uploading chapters here on tumblr for convenience. I decided against tagging this until new chapters are posted. Of course there are a few that wished to be tagged and I will be tagging them in this. If you would like to be tagged please let me know! Chapters are queued and will be posted randomly. Enjoy

After her phone call with Malakai, Elizabeth found herself in the courtyard pacing, waiting for Davina. Her nerves were getting the best of her. She never knew the specifics of the spell. She never was able to know why a Claire witch had to undo it. She never knew if she was the only one that would have to go through the spell, or if Elijah needed to participate. And to Elizabeth, she didn't want to involve Elijah when he had a lot on his mind. She hoped that Aya hadn't made Emmalina put elements into it that it would be difficult to do it.

"You are wearing down the cement with all that pacing you are doing." the voice caused Elizabeth to stop in her tracks. It should have scared her with her being so lost in thought, but it didn't. She turned to see Freya standing there.

"Call it 'prespell jitters.'" Elizabeth said with a smile. "You would think that I wouldn't be this nervous over something like this."

"You have a right to be." Freya said taking a few steps to stand next to her. "Five centuries of having a part of yourself is a big deal. To get it back, its perfectly fine to feel nervous. "

Elizabeth shook her head slightly. "How is Finn doing?" She asked trying to take her mind off the spell.

"As can be expected." She said with a small nod. "Thank you for earlier."

"For what?" Elizabeth asked confused.

"For saying Finn is innocent and that he was here to make things better."

"Well, he is. I spent the other morning with him." She said with a slight shrug. "I know how he feels and what he really wants. While I should hate him for trying to kill them, I can't. I can see where he is coming from."

"And that is what my brothers have yet to see." Freya said with a slight nod.

"Finn has changed. I can see that. I may have only been four when I met him and only had a year to spend with your siblings, but Finn I could tell then he wasn't happy. He tried living a normal life and I had spent a lot of time annoying the hell out of him to see him laugh at least once."

Freya chuckled. "I wish I could have seen that. I do envy you, Liz. You've been able to spend more time with my siblings than I have."

"You shouldn't. It wasn't your fault. I've heard the stories of your mother and actually had met her once. She seemed so..." Elizabeth shook her head slightly trying to find the right word to explain Ester. "Yeah, I got nothing nice to say about the woman." It caused Freya to chuckle again.

"I'd have to agree with you there." Freya shook her head.

"Freya, Liz? Can you ask the bodyguards to let me in?" They both turned to see Davina standing behind the Strix. One of them looked over their shoulder for confirmation and Freya nodded at them. Letting Davina pass, she headed towards the girls.

"Sorry I am late, Liz." She said with a small smile. "I had to get everything I needed."

"It's okay." Elizabeth said with a nod. "I could have waited a little longer if need."

Davina looked to Freya. "You still have the spell?"

"Of course." Freya said. "Lets get set up in the library." She said turning and walking away. Elizabeth and Davina followed her.

Elizabeth had to admit, she was now a nervous wreck. All of her earlier worries were back and her mind seemed to be going on with thoughts. While she wanted to just sit back and watch as Davina set everything up, she couldnt. The woman needed to know what all Aya had done. Davina held her hand out towards Freya for the spell. Nodding, Freya pulled the spell from her back pocket and handed it to Davina.

"Aya wasn't going to make it easy for you to undo this spell, Liz." Davina said unfolding the old paper in her hand.

"I expected as much." Elizabeth said sighing. "What was it that the old bitch decided to add to make this worse?"

Davina gave a small smile as she walked over to the table in the room. "Aya made it very clear that she didn't want you to undo this spell. She went as far as needing her own blood as apart of the spell." Elizabeth's mouth dropped slightly. There was no blood of Aya's left. She had saw to that when she had pulled her heart out and left her body in the Davilla estate. "But thankfully, something told me to collect her blood for a special occasion." Davina said with a smirk on her face as she pulled a few items out of her bag. Out of Davina's bag came several different trinkets and candles. The last thing that came out was a jar with Aya's heart with blood at the bottom of the jar.

A sigh of relief passed Elizabeth'a lips. "You really are a Claire." She said with a shake of her head. "Is there anything else I need to know about?"

"There is one thing, that may screw this whole thing up." Davina said with a small sigh. " You need the blood of someone who knew you while you were human. And Aya had it perfectly clear that it couldnt be Elijah."

Elizabeth shook her head. "There are five people that do. And three of them are incapable of helping out."

"Who are the other two?" Freya asked.

"Finn and Kol." She said watching Davina. "Though as much as I am trying not to kill your boyfriend. I'd prefer Finn's blood since I did have more of a friendship with him than Kol."

"I'd be happy to help." Finn said leaning against the door frame. "Anything to help Lizzy." It caused Elizabeth to smile

"How did that nickname even stick?" Freya asked and it caused both Elizabeth and Finn to laugh.

"My sister couldnt say my name when she was three. So Lizzy was the only thing she could manage to say. " Elizabeth explained.

"And I found it to be it fitting as she would come up to us at times with lizards in her hands. So it stuck with her. " Finn added in.

Elizabeth smiled and looked to Davina. "What else do we need for the spell?"

"Now, just you." She said with a small nod.

"Will he feel anything?" Elizabeth asked as she watched Davina begin her prep for the spell.

"Not until the very end. He'll start to feel uncomfortable because you will be, but the only thing he will actually feel is that connection being restored at the end." Davina began drawing the circle with salt. Once it was half way done, Davina placed the chair in the center and Elizabeth stepped into the center of it.

"Are you sure you are ready for this?" Davina asked as she finished making the circle around Elizabeth.

Elizabeth grinned and chuckled as she took a seat. "I've been waiting for this for a long time." She said watching Freya and Davina. "At least this time I'm not strapped down to a chair."

Freya shook her head. "But the pain will be the same, Elizabeth. Maybe we should take some precaution?"

Elizabeth thought about it for a moment and shook her head. "I know what is going to happen. I know I can handle it. I wont be breaking the circle. Not like I could anyways."

Davina had finished placing the items needed for the spell around the circle and stood by Freya. "When ever you are ready, Liz." She said with a small nod.

"Start away." Elizabeth said looking at the doorway where Elijah had now been watching. She nodded slightly, letting him know she would be alright.

Both Davina and Freya began their chanting. While at first Elizabeth felt nothing, it soon came just like she remembered it. A sharp pain in her chest, as if the wind had been knocked out of her. And as they continued, the pain grew. As much as Elizabeth had wanted to scream out in agony she didn't. But when Elijah began to feel faint pain, he looked to his sister.

"Freya, Davina, stop this." He said taking a few steps towards them. "You are causing her pain."

"No, Elijah." Elizabeth said through clenched teeth. "I-I'm fine." She watched as Finn placed a hand on Elijah's shoulder. At least there was someone letting him know she would in fact be okay.

At least Elizabeth knew the spell was working. She was feeling pieces of her being put back together. It was like a puzzle that had been difficult to put together and now, it was finally almost finished. A sharp pain coursed through her body and it caused her to cry out. But at the same time so did Elijah. Just as their cries of pain ended, Freya and Davina stopped their chanting. They both had a smirk on their faces as they looked back and forth between Elizabeth and Elijah. Davina was the first one to move as she broke the circle around Elizabeth.

Elizabeth smiled at Davina. It had worked. She could feel that. She could feel that Elijah was safe regardless that he had been standing in the same room as her. And Elijah could feel her. The old familiar feeling seemed to bring back so many memories of all the times that he had sensed Elizabeth was in danger. And now that it was back, he hated himself for a moment for not noticing all those years ago that it was no longer there.

"So, how do you feel?" Davina asked watching Elizabeth as she stood.

"I feel like myself again." Elizabeth said with a grin on her face. " I feel like I remember it to be." She looked to Elijah. "That feeling that your are safe, I like having that back." Elijah smiled at her before she turned back to Davina. "Thank you so much, Davina."

"No, problem Liz. You are the only family that I'd actually help out." Davina said with a smile.

"Speaking of family, what was Emmalina's part in the original spell?" Elizabeth asked. It was the only thing left that left her curious about the spell.

"You never needed a Claire witch, Liz." Elizabeth looked at her confused and Davina chuckled. "Aya wanted to make you believe that you needed a Claire witch to do the spell. She compelled Emmalina to tell you that she was forced to do it. The sisters where the one that put the spell together."

"How do you know all that?" Freya asked.

Davina walked over to her bag and pulled out an old journal. "Emmalina kept a journal, she had another witch remove the compulsion long after you had left and she wrote it all down."

Elizabeth shook her head. "And you see why I took so much pleasure in holding that heart in my hand."

Some time later, Elizabeth had found herself walking through the halls of the compound. She had been on her way to her room when she heard Finn crying out in pain. Rushing over to the other side of the compound she had shown up in time to see Finn and Kol begin to fight again.

"Davina, what happened?" Elizabeth asked not wanting to get in between the two brothers. But before Davina could answer, Kol threw Finn through the glass doors. Not wasting any time, Elizabeth rushed to Finn's side, trying to help him up. She turned to see Kol grab a candle from the table. "Kol, Don't even think about it." She said standing in between him and Finn.

"Enough!" Elijah said appearing between him and Elizabeth.

"This isn't your fight!" Kol replied

"I told you to stay your hand!" Elijah took a step closer to Kol. Elizabeth watched as Kol scowled at Elijah before taking a step back and chucking the candle across the room.

"Fine." Kol said looking Elijah straight in the eye. "I'd rather take my chances out there with the white oak then stay here with you lot."

Elizabeth turned around to check on Finn one more time while Freya made her way towards him.

"Elijah?" Freya was concerned for Kol's safety out there.

"He'll be fine. Marcel has paid us a visit." Elijah said causing Elizabeth's eyebrow to raise. She watched as Elijah reached into his pocket and pulled out the bullet. "The last remaining white oak in the world...right here."

Elizabeth watched as Lucien and Finn eyed Elijah and the bullet. While she knew of some of the intentions of Finn, her main concern had been the way Lucian had been looking at it.

"Sister, if you would be so kind?" Elijah asked and Freya nodded. With a simple flick of her wrist, the nearby fire pit burst into flames. Everyone had watched as Elijah tossed it into the flames.

"No!" Finn had yelled and reached into the fire, groaning from the pain as he grabs and pulls out the bullet.

"Finn," Elizabeth said walking over to him, concerned.

"The little witch has condemned me to this!" Finn said showing them the mark Davina had left on him. Elizabeth's eyes widened seeing the mark. "To remain a beast."

"How could she do that to you?" Elizabeth asked looking between Finn and the others.

"To get back at him for the hex had put on Kol." Freya said

"Elijah.." Finn started. "I can't bear an eternity with no hope of escape. Can you?"

Elizabeth shook her head and looked at Elijah who was watching Finn. Elizabeth could see the conflicted look he had about this. Everyone knew that Finn had never wanted to be a vampire. And now, that was Finn's only escape from the life of a vampire.

"Give it to me." Elijah said to Finn. Finn only looked devastated that Elijah was asking for it back.

Elizabeth looked to Finn. "Please Finn, give it back to Elijah. " But even with Elizabeth asking nicely and hoping that Finn would hand over the bullet, he didn't seem to want to. "There has to be another way."

Before anyone could try to negotiate with Finn anymore, Lucien flashed over to Finn and took the bullet out of his hand before anyone noticed. When he stood before them with the bullet, Elizabeth stood quickly and went to take a step towards Lucian when he tossed it back to Elijah. Elizabeth had been shocked that he had done so. She hadn't expected him to. She was still waiting for Lucien to do something to out himself. She still didn't trust him.

"Come on, then. After all this time... go on and destroy it." Lucien said watching everyone in the room.

"Elijah, please. Forever is a burden that nobody should have to bear." Finn pleaded and Elizabeth's heart ached for Finn. She hated that he was looking so lost and devastated.

"You cannot keep that in this house, Elijah. It is already a beacon drawing your enemies to you." Lucien said trying to get Elijah to destroy it.

"Shut up Lucien." Elizabeth finally said, irritated with the way he was messing with both of the brothers' heads. Lucian gave Elizabeth a glare before looking between Elijah and Finn.

"Perhaps the best solution is obvious? Entrust it to the one who loves each of you most."Lucien said looking at Freya.

Elizabeth didn't know how she felt about that idea. She wasn't sure if having Lucien so close to Freya now would be a good thing if she had the bullet. Elizabeth was about to voice her opinion when Freya spoke.

"I can cloak myself." She said taking a few steps towards Elijah. "If it has to exist, at least I can take it far away. Hide it under a thousand spells, somewhere where no one else will ever find it. " Elizabeth could see the hurt in Freya's eyes about having to keep the bullet around. Just like Elijah, they did not want their brother to die. "Until the day comes when... you are ready for release."

Elizabeth looked to Finn and saw some relief in him. But at the same time, there was no escaping the fact that he no longer wanted to live. She hoped that with Freya being able to take it away and hide it, Finn may want to stay around some more. She turned to Elijah who had been watching her. She gave him a slight nod. They all wanted Finn around. The was the best solution they had.

Elijah sighed and handed the bullet to Freya. There had been a serious expression on his face and Freya had understood what it meant. She needed to make sure no one else got their hands on it. And they couldn't lose Finn again after he just returned.

Elizabeth watched Freya and Lucien walk out of the courtyard. Elijah had went back to the parlor to speak with Marcel. Elizabeth sighed and looked at Finn with a small smile. He had still looked hurt about the whole situation. Elizabeth followed Finn and had a seat next to him on the couch in the courtyard.

"There has to be another way, Finn." She said softly.

"Not with this mark on me." He said shaking his head.

"I waited five centuries, for something that was taken from me." Elizabeth said watching him. "I hope you do not have to wait as long as I have, but there is always a way to undo it."

"This one isn't one that can be undone, Lizzy." The hurt in his voice made Elizabeth sigh.

"Have hope." She said with a small smile before patting his knee and getting up. "It's the best thing to have in times like this, Finn. With out it, we'd be lost with no sense of finding ourselves again." She gave once more comforting smile before going to look for Freya.

Elijah had just finished speaking to Marcel about the white oak and his brothers when his phone began to buzz in his pocket. While walking out onto the balcony, Elijah answered it.

"We got the white oak." He said into the phone. "Time to come home."

Well, at least one of us something good to report... Because Hayley and I have made a rather unsettling discovery. Seems our friends at Kingmaker Land Development are still targeting wolves. What we don't know is why.

Elijah didn't answer right away. There was a thought forming in his head and while he had never wanted to consider the possibility, he had to now.

"This whole time, we've been so consumed with everything out there. This auction, the swarm of old enemies... what if it was just a distraction? Niklaus, I am beginning to fear the real threat has been in front of us all along. Elizabeth had been right."

A few moments before the phone call, Elizabeth wanted to walk Freya out to her car. She wanted to make sure Freya had gotten to car safely since she was carrying the white oak. As much as Freya could take care of herself, she was still human. Elizabeth couldn't leave her unprotected.

"How do you feel?" Freya asked as they headed out of the compound.

"Whole again." Elizabeth smiled. It felt great to finally feel whole once more. She could feel that Elijah was near and safe. A feeling she had longed to remember for centuries.

"Now I know you'll be staying in the family for a while." Freya said with a smile and Elizabeth shook her head.

"Its not like that Freya. All I want is Elijah happy. It doesn't need to be with me."

Freya chuckled. "I know that is what you want. But I'm sure when he starts to feel what you feel, it will only be a matter of time. Elijah does need to be happy Liz. And I truly believe you are what he needs."

Elizabeth sighed softly as they reached Freya's car. "I'm in no rush."

Hearing footsteps they both looked towards the direction it came from, ready for a fight. Seeing Vincent they both calmed down a bit. It was Freya who noticed something wrong with Vincent.

"Something wrong?" Freya asked watching him.

"Very much." He said with a sigh before using magic against Freya. Elizabeth went to try and knock him unconscious before Vince close a fist and caused Elizabeth's neck to snap.

What do you mean she's right? Klaus said from the other side of the line. Elijah felt a faint pain move along his neck and it caused Elijah to gasp at the feeling. Elijah, what is it?

"Elizabeth just had her neck snapped and I felt it." Elijah said looking around, now worried for Elizabeth.

She undid it didn't she? Elijah heard Malakai say followed by 'undid what?' from both Klaus and Hayley.

"She did, Malakai." Elijah said while he rushed through the whole compound before reaching outside and seeing Freya's car door open and both of them no where in sight. "And now I believe both her and Freya are in danger."

I leave her for one day in your care and she gets kidnapped?! When I get there, Elijah we are going to have a long talk.

Elijah, find them. Hybrid, you tells what ever it was Eli-

Klaus had hung up the phone leaving Elijah calling Marcel.

A groan passed Elizabeth's lips as she was coming to. She really hated getting her neck snapped. She was going to have a to kick Vincent's ass for doing that. But when she looked around, she found herself in Lucien's apartment. She was tied down to a chair and gagged. When she moved her arms there was a slight sting from the vervain. That should have brought a smile to her lips that Lucien thought he could keep her still with verain. But it didn't. She felt off. She felt sick.

She looked around the room to find Freya across from her with a gag in her mouth. It caused Elizabeth to try to pull herself from the ropes. But she couldnt, she felt so weak. She shouldn't have. She had grown an immunity to vervain. She should have been able to easily rip out of them.

"That isn't going to help you, Liz." She heard Lucian's voice from behind her. "See, I knew like many of us old vampires, we train ourselves to grow immune to vervain. While it helps keep you weak for the time being, I had to take some extra precautions with you." He said stepping in front of her and kneeling down to her level. "Wolf venom seems to be doing just the trick to keeping you where you should be. Though I didn't trust one dose, since you have that best friend of yours. So I gave you two."

Elizabeth's eyes widened at him. She knew she was in trouble. Klaus was out of the city, for all she knew he was out of the state, and wasn't going to be back anytime soon. She had no clue what Lucien's plans were, but it now made it so she was running out of time. And with what ever time she had left, she'd at least somehow try to kill the man before her.

#The originals #the vampire diaries #Forgotten Alliance #series #ffnet to tumblr #elijah mikaelson x oc #Eventual Elizabeth x Elijah #chapter 8

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your-iron-lung · 4 years

Text

No Shade in the Shadow of the Cross 13

aka ‘Slow Down’; available to read on AO3 HERE

Story Synopsis: Some weird low-key occult parties start popping up that Steve can’t in good conscience ignore and takes it upon himself to investigate. Billy gets caught up in the consequences of his meddling, and isn’t it funny? For all the strange things the Upside Down has thrown his way, it’s werewolves that Steve has trouble accepting exist.

Chapter Word Count: 7216

Pairings: Eventual Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington

Genre: Supernatural/Suspense/Drama/Horror-ish

Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12

Next Chapter: 14

Notes: SURPRISE!! its a SECRET DOUBLE UPDATE 'secret double update? what does it MEAN?' it means that, when i went back to re-read my story to make sure i was keeping on track for continuity purposes, i couldnt even get through the first chapter! it was just THAT BAD (imo), so i went back and re-wrote it entirely. it doesnt offer anything new in terms of plot, but boy howdy is it an upgrade to what it used to be. bless those of you who kept up with the story after reading that trainwreck

(this chapter update is dedicated to @pfandghoul bc they were my 100th follower here- THANKS BUDDYYYY) OH ALSO- i got a commission done of billy in the TERRIBLE OUTFIT (but with hair, bc i cant commission an artist like demonfleet and not have him draw those beautiful curls). PEEP IT HERE

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“Who else knows?”

Hopper’s voice, though sluggish and weighted with exhaustion, still carried with it a tone of seriousness that had Steve feeling prematurely guilty about the way the rest of the conversation was going to play out. He knew what Hopper was really asking; knew he wanted to hear confirmation that the kids weren’t somehow involved in any of this, and even though they weren’t, not yet, Steve still found himself turning his eyes away from Hopper’s authoritative stare, focusing his attention instead on the spot on the table where he’d been picking at the veneer absentmindedly. And although he knew the question was primarily directed towards himself, he let Billy answer.

“No one,” Billy said self-assuredly, a hint of surliness edging out with his tone as he exhaled a hot breath of smoke and leaned forward to stub his cigarette out in the ashtray centered between the three of them. He sat back in his seat with a grunt and a creaking of wood and promptly lit another.

Gathered in the Harringtons’ dining room- (the room itself being, remarkably, an equal point of pride to both of his parents)- the three of them sat gathered around the antique wooden table that served as a centerpiece, perched around its aged surface in differing states of dishevelment. Their collective exhaustion was as palpable as the smoke trails that had been gathering and circling slowly above their heads for the past ten minutes, in which Billy had chain-smoked three cigarettes down to the filter before either Steve or Hopper had had the chance to finish their first.

Sitting across from him, Steve could feel Hopper’s eyes, sunken and dark and weary, boring into him as he waited for his response to confirm what Billy had said.

“No one else knows,” Steve affirmed after a moment’s hesitation, in which he took a hard drag of his cigarette and exhaled with a long, drawn out sigh. He could feel the pressure of what he was going to say next catching in his throat before he cleared it and amended, “Well, not… not yet, anyway.”

“Yet.”

The repeated word dropped from Hopper’s lips like a dead weight, falling upon the three of them like a bomb. It broke whatever uneasy peace they’d managed to find in those few minutes where they’d all just sat smoking in silence, each of them trying to recover from the ordeals they’d endured over the night before reconvening to tackle them again. In its place, a taut, malevolent tension began to take form, and in it Steve could feel the enmity brewing against him.

“Yet,” Hopper repeated again, and this time there was anger in his voice. Steve winced reflexively, slowly turning his eyes up from where they’d been focused on the tabletop to meet his anger directly. “And what does ‘yet’ entail exactly, huh, kid?”

Steve opened his mouth to answer, but couldn’t force the words he wanted to use to explain out. Under Hopper and Billy’s stares, all the reasoning he’d had stored up for why he needed to at least tell Dustin what was going on left him. He could feel the trust his only two allies had in him turning into something dark and misconstrued as he sat there struggling to form a sentence, but was helpless to combat it.

“It’s not what you think-” he started to say, but was interrupted when Billy interjected by slamming his fist down hard upon the table, rattling the ashtray in its place and silencing him instantly.

“Well what the fuck is it then, Harrington?” There was such strong mistrust in Billy’s eyes when he spoke- mistrust and vehement anger, such that Steve could practically feel the foundations they’d laid in their almost-friendship crumbling apart. “Selling me out to this pig not enough for you? You trying to go national with this shit or something? What the fuck does ‘not yet’ mean?!”

“Hey! You need to calm down,” Hopper snapped, directing his ire towards Billy, who’d begun to rise out of his seat with each word spoken in anger. “Sit down and give him a chance to explain, alright?”

But he didn’t.

“Fuck that, and fuck you,” Billy said roughly, leering across the table at both Hopper and Steve. His stomach let out a low growl that momentarily stalled him long enough for Steve to intervene before he could say anything more.

“What the fuck are you talking about, ‘go national’? Do you even hear yourself, Hargrove?” Steve spat back, exasperated, tired, and unable to keep himself from matching Billy’s aggression when it was being thrust at him. He narrowed his eyes and took another hard drag off his cigarette before continuing, saying, “Who the hell do you think would even believe me? You think I’m just going to stroll into the Hawkins Post and try to sell them a werewolf story? ‘Oh uh, yeah, some douchebag I know turns into a big bad wolf during a full moon. You might wanna print that- warn the people! Billy Hargrove’s a more literal monster than we thought!’ I didn’t even believe in any of this crap at first, who do you think I could I possibly sell that to?”

The words came spilling out of Steve’s mouth before he could even think about what it was he was saying. He knew he’d fallen for another one of Billy’s taunts but couldn’t help himself; he refused to be painted as the villain in Billy’s fabricated scenario when he hadn’t even done anything yet, and certainly hadn’t been planning anything near as diabolical as selling Billy out to the country as some kind of freak sideshow act. Steve matched Billy’s glare evenly, half-aware of the way Hopper had groaned and run a hand down the length of his face. ‘You’ve really done it now, kid,’ his expression seemed to say.

Appearing taken aback, Billy seemed somewhat startled by the harsh words Steve had doled out to him. With a hand across his stomach, a small hint of vulnerability crossed over his features before he quickly reigned it back and pulled his lips back into a harsh snarl, his half-smoked cigarette dangling forgotten in the corner of his mouth to reveal at last what oral thing had been bothering him so much on the car ride over.

His teeth, Steve observed dumbly as he stared openly at the obstructions lining his mouth. Of course it was his teeth.

Thin, long, and all of them pointed, they looked more suited to what might be found in the muzzle of a large hound rather than in the mouth of a man. They were canine in nature, unnaturally fitted in his mouth where before his teeth had been straight and white and pristine, forming a smile so blindingly handsome it wasn’t always easy to look away.

“You’re right! You didn’t believe in any of this at first, but all it took was a little bit of proof to convince you though, right, Harrington?” Billy cooed smoothly after a moment, an eager look flashing in his yellow-blue eyes at the prospect of their argument turning into a physical fight in Steve’s parents’ dining room. “How much proof do you think it’d take to convince one shitty reporter in this hick town, huh? A mouth full of weird teeth? A broken arm that heals itself in, what, the span of two days? I mean, isn’t that what did it for you, Harrington? Witnessing this small little biological miracle of mine? Maybe that would do the trick. Could really blow the lid off of this one; might even be able to contribute something to your daddy’s legacy besides being a little piece of shit.”

“Enough!” Hopper’s voice burst from his throat, booming loudly in the condensed space. The suddenness of his outburst was enough to draw both Steve and Billy’s attention off of one another, though they were each reluctant to turn away. “You!” Hopper shouted, pointing one finger authoritatively at Steve, who sat and stared at him with a baffled look on his face, “Quit goading him on, goddammit. And you,” he continued, turning his command to Billy, “sit down and shut the hell up! He might be mouthing off, but you need to show this kid some damn respect for taking responsibility last night. He could’ve died going after you, do you understand that? He could have died for you.”

The weight of Hopper’s words had the exact impact he wanted them to. Steve turned away in embarrassment as a funny look crossed over Billy’s face. Confusion wormed its way through his anger, furrowing his brow and pulling his lips into a frown. It was a look Hopper had seen many times before when he’d been in the army, when soldiers who’d been at arms with one another were forced to let it go under the threat of punishment from their higher ups. It was a dark, begrudging sort of obedience fresh cadets endured when their commanding officers demanded they stand down when they weren’t quite ready to. With his momentum shaken, Billy’s look of anger slowly slipped into something a little more unreadable as he sank back down into his seat, muttering a quiet “Yes, sir” aloud as his stomach emitted another horrifically loud growl that everyone in the room ignored.

“Christ, I’m dealing with children here,” Hopper mumbled, kneading his fingers against his temple. He took a moment to take a deep breath of collection and lit another cigarette, flicking his lighter fruitlessly a couple of times before a spark struck and he continued speaking.

“Nothing said here leaves this house,” he said sternly, making sure to make and hold eye contact with each of them to stress the importance of his words. “This,” he said, gesturing vaguely to Billy with his freshly lit cigarette, “doesn’t go ‘national’; it doesn’t even go local, you got that? Whoever your ‘not yet’ applied to doesn’t get to know, so you can put the idea that you’re going to tell anyone else about any of this right out the window, understand?”

He looked sharply to Steve then, insisting in so many words that the children be left out of whatever they decided to do moving forward. Steve bit the inside of his cheek and looked away stubbornly, nodding once as he crossed his arms across his chest. He was aware of how he must’ve looked- like a spoiled, pouting child- but he couldn’t help it. Of course he understood; it didn’t take a genius to understand why this needed to be kept secret, but he still owed Dustin an explanation, and right now he figured he liked Dustin a hell of a lot more than he liked Hopper.

Hopper watched him with a scrutinizing eye, and, as though he could read Steve’s thoughts, said, “Let me hear you say it.”

“What?”

“Say you understand,” Hopper said quietly, ignoring for a moment the fact that Billy was sharing the space with them. He enunciated each word with gentle forcefulness, not issuing him orders now so much as silently begging for compliance. “The three of us can handle it. We don’t need for anyone else to get involved.”

The air in the room felt very still in that moment. The cigarette smoke that had been pooling above them like a pale cloud continued its slow and stagnant swirl, apathetic to the nature of their conversation. Staring at him, Steve once again felt guilty. After everything that the chief had done for him, he still couldn’t commit to the promise Hopper wanted him to make. He understood where his concerns were coming from, but Dustin was already involved, in a way. He sighed.

“Well, the thing is,” Steve began to say, nervously tapping his fingers against the table, “Dustin kind of already knows?” Hopper’s expression turned dark, as Steve had expected it to, but better he tell him now than for him to find out later. “I mean, I asked the kid to use his house! You were there; you dropped me off. I didn’t tell him for what, or WHO,” he said, shooting Billy a pointed look, “but he knows something’s up. It’s kind of obvious I was trying to use his cellar as a holding cell, and I promised I’d tell him about it once things settled down.”

Hopper exhaled a long and forlorn sigh, rubbing his face into his hands tiredly. “Could this get anymore convoluted?” he mumbled to himself before he looked up and locked his gaze onto Steve. “Fine. You promised to tell him about it, so you will.”

Confused, Steve shifted his attention from Hopper to Billy. “I will?”

“Yep.” Hopper blew out a long string of smoke. As he did so, the tension he’d held in the muscles of his face seemed to relax. “We’re going to double-down on your dog story. You’ll tell him you were dogsitting for one of your mom’s friends. Dog got loose, and you had to lure it back. Threw some meat down there to attract and trap it. I trust you to make up some details to fill in the gaps if he asks anything specific. You got that?”

Steve stared at him, knowing full well there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that Dustin would ever believe that. And besides, Steve had already told him it was a red alert, but if this was what it took to get Hopper off his back, then, maybe it was fine.

“I understand,” he said, knowing he would, eventually, have to ask forgiveness for his future misdeeds.

“Good.”

Steve lit another cigarette and breathed it in deeply, hating how openly relieved Hopper sounded. He stole a glance towards where Billy was sitting with his own cigarette still hanging limply from his lips and felt that guilt compounded. He couldn’t say for certain what Billy must have thought of him at that point, but there was no way he’d have been able to keep helping him on his own, because Hopper was right: he had almost died last night. But with the worst of it over (he hoped), they could focus less on that and put their heads together to figure out what to do going forward.

Or, they could have, if Hopper’s hip radio hadn’t begun to crackle in that exact instance, releasing a string of police-coded jargon through the speaker. They all collectively jumped a little at the startling noise as the dispatcher (Florence’s voice, Steve recognized) requested Hopper’s aid in assisting his deputies with something he couldn’t decipher.

“Great,” Hopper mumbled to himself, stubbing out the cigarette he’d hardly been able to enjoy. If possible, he looked even more tired than when he’d walked in. “Yeah, I copy,” he said into the radio as he unlatched it from his belt. “I’ll be there soon; give me a few minutes to wrap it up here and I’ll meet them at the scene.”

He clipped the small receiver back onto his belt before coming to a stand, groaning in a way that was similar to Steve’s dad when he’d been sitting down for too long.

“You’re leaving?” Steve asked as he watched Hopper collect his hat and place it haphazardly on his head.

“Duty calls,” Hopper grunted noncommittally. He pulled on the coat he’d left on the back of his chair and zipped it up to the collar. “I had a few of my boys start investigating a lead for me. A small one, but if they’re calling me out there, it means they’ve found something, and hopefully it’ll help us settle all this a little more quickly.”

“But we haven’t made a plan for what to do the next time this happens,” Steve said concernedly. He felt exhausted beyond his years, but none of their major issues had been solved or even discussed yet. “We haven’t talked about what we’re supposed to do at all.”

“Next time?”

Steve turned from Hopper to Billy, who’d spoken softly and, despite having looked enraged only moments before, now appeared confused.

“Well, yeah,” Steve said, flicking the ash off the end of his cigarette into the ashtray, “this is like, a monthly thing for you now, right? Kind of like a girl when she gets her-”

“Don’t fucking say it,” Billy growled. Steve shrugged, unbothered.

“...but only for a day instead of like, for a week,” he finished, feeling a little bit of self-satisfaction at the way Billy cringed and groaned.

“God fucking dammit Harrington.”

“You were the one who showed me the movie though,” Steve said, shifting the subject easily to skirt around Billy’s annoyance. Hopper lingered by the dining room’s opening, hearing out the tail-end of Steve’s concerns. “It didn’t end for him after one month; he was like, doomed to keep turning every full moon forever or something, right? Isn’t that how werewolves work, and doesn’t that, y’know, kind of include you now?”

A dawning look of horror spread across Billy’s pale face as he made the connection. He blinked once, let the long trail off ash fall off his cigarette onto the table, and looked away, dazed, as though the thought of having to relive last night’s nightmare hadn’t occurred to him before.

“What do you mean, next time?” Hopper asked, parroting Billy’s earlier confusion. “You saying he’s liable to... turn again?”

Steve nodded somberly. “We can’t use Dustin’s house again; he escaped way too easily, but I guess we have a month to prepare, so it’s not critical right now or anything,” he explained, to which Hopper acknowledged him with a low hum. “But we still definitely need a plan for next time.”

“Leave it to me, kid; I might have something I can make work,” Hopper muttered. His eyes were unfocused as he turned and began to leave, already mentally trying to work out the specifics of whatever it was he had in mind. “Remember,” he called back once he’d reached the front door, his haggard voice echoing down the short hall, “nothing said here leaves this house.”

He didn’t wait for affirmation before departing. From the dining room they heard the soft click of the front door as it opened and shut, leaving Billy and Steve alone in the dining room. Turning in his seat to look out the front-facing windows, Steve watched Hopper get into his truck and start the engine, noting the way he let his head hang briefly for a moment before he perked up to back out of the driveway. And then he was gone.

A wave of exhaustion overcame as he sat there, eyeing the empty space where Hopper’s truck had been. He was hungry, tired, and wanted nothing more than to just be able to sleep forever, but as long as he was needed, that wasn’t likely to happen. His role as caretaker was ever-expanding, and now, it seemed to include Billy as well.

Hopper had managed to hold the peace between them (though barely) while he’d been there, and Steve couldn’t presume to know how things were going to go now that it was just him and Billy again. As he turned back in his seat and finished off the rest of his cigarette, he realized that whatever aggression Billy had been harboring towards him was gone.

“Next time,” Steve heard him mumble to himself. The dejected manner in which he spoke was so unlike himself that he was reminded of the way he’d been behaving the day before, as though he could no longer find his own self-worth. Billy took the cigarette that had been hanging off his lip and held it in his hand, staring at the dimly glowing cherry before looking up to catch Steve’s eye to say, “I don’t think I can go through that again.”

He said it with such vulnerable honesty that Steve found he didn’t know how to respond. His own self-worth took a hit as guilt and pity began to rise within him as he stared back at Billy, hating that he didn’t know what to say. It felt wrong to try and supply him with empty assurances when he had heard firsthand and seen the aftermath of how painfully debilitating the transformation had been. There was nothing he could say that could possibly begin to alleviate the horror that came with knowing it was going to come and afflict him again and again, month after month, for the rest of his life.

What sort of consolation could he possibly offer him?

“C’mon,” Steve eventually said, depositing the butt of his cigarette into the ashtray as he scooted his chair back to stand up. Billy watched him with an exhausted, yet vaguely sorrowful expression that Steve decidedly didn’t like. “I’ll show you the bathroom.”

Well, at least he could offer him a shower.

-----

Steve could hear the shower running by the time he came back up the hall with a fresh towel in hand, but Billy wasn’t yet locked inside the bathroom. He was leaning up against the wall beside the bathroom door, arms folded across his chest and eyes closed, dozing off while he waited for the water to warm up. As Steve approached, he noticed that, while Billy had taken off the bloody ruination of his old shirt, he still had Mrs. Henderson’s ugly bathrobe loosely tied around his waist.

Billy cocked one eye open when he heard him come close, and mutely traded the shirt for the towel when Steve offered it to him. Neither of them spoke as the exchange was made; a silence broken only by the sound of spraying water hitting the shower tile forming between them until Steve found it too unbearable to withstand.

“So,” he started to say, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, “about before… I, uh, really shouldn’t have, y’know, said what I did about you being a monster.”

From his position against the wall, Billy frowned.

“I was just caught up in the moment,” Steve continued apologetically. “And I know that doesn’t like, excuse my actions or whatever, but it was still a shitty thing to say.”

As he opened both of his eyes, Billy found that Steve was looking everywhere but directly at him, and in fact had taken to looking at his own reflection in a decorative vase while he’d been talking. It was awkward; he was starting to feel uncomfortable about the sincerity Steve was trying to convey.

“I don’t give a shit, it’s not like it bothered me,” Billy lied, speaking tersely. His stomach growled, and he placed a hand over it idly. “Trust me, I’ve been called worse things than that.”

Steve’s shoulders slumped a bit as he worried the back of his hair into a knot. “Still,” he said awkwardly, finally turning away from the dark reflection of the vase, now absentmindedly trying to pull his fingers free, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

Clicking his tongue and rolling his eyes towards the ceiling, Billy huffed out a deep sigh and said, “Look, Harrington, if you’re willing to make me some pancakes and fry up some bologna we can call it even. Just, stop doing… whatever this is and let me shower.”

Steve paused to think about it. “Sure, okay, I can do that. I think we’ve got some pancake mix somewhere.”

With that awkward bit of conversation out of the way, Billy eased up off of the wall he was perched upon and slid into the bathroom before Steve could make any sort of addendum and closed the door. He listened to the sounds of Steve’s retreating footsteps down the hall over the pouring water as he undid the tie around his hips and left the beanie on the sink counter, decidedly not looking in the mirror as he stepped into the strong, warm stream.

-----

Billy stayed in the shower for a long, long time.

Steve hadn’t really been expecting it to be a quick one, but still, as he stood over the stove making a tall stack of pancakes that would’ve been enough to satisfy the stomach of any starving man, he wondered just how long he needed. The water had to have been going cold by now.

The smell of the bologna frying in the pan had, at first, encouraged his appetite, but was now starting to turn his stomach. The smell of bologna alone had never been appealing to him, and to have to smell it as it cooked was nauseating. He cut off the stove, transferred the fried meat to a serving plate, and then sat at the kitchen table to wait.

He nibbled a little at a pancake, but couldn’t stomach the smell of the bologna well enough to finish it off. He waited at the table patiently, like a mother might when she was waiting for her kids to come down and eat and strained his ears to listen for when the water shut off upstairs.

It didn’t, though. He could hear it trickling down through the pipes in the walls, quietly draining away whatever it was Billy was trying to cleanse himself of.

Steve sighed miserably and folded his arms over the table, sliding the chair back far enough so he could rest his head over them like he used to in English. He closed his eyes (‘Just resting my eyes’, as his dad was prone to saying before he fell asleep on the couch), and soon found himself asleep.

-----

In a dream, it was snowing and he was driving, speeding along a narrow, unfamiliar road.

‘Faster’, he was thinking to himself as he depressed the accelerator harder. ‘I have to go faster.’

A deep, dark blackness enveloped him from all sides outside of the car. He couldn’t see through it or if anything was in it, even though he knew, intrinsically, that he had his high beams on and should have at least been able to see where he was going. The road before him manifested as a slick black line, wavering in and out of focus between his rapidly swishing windshield wipers and the oncoming flurry.

He was in a hurry, though he didn’t know why. Billy was fine. Sitting in the passenger seat beside him, he looked almost bored with Steve’s pedestrian effort to save him.

“I’m doing my best,” Steve said, unsure of why he was now crying. “I’m going as fast as I can- please, please just understand that.”

“You haven’t done enough,” Billy responded in a voice that both was and wasn’t his own. It hurt Steve’s ears to listen to as he whimpered involuntarily. “I’m already lost.”

Alarmed, Steve took his eyes off the road to look at Billy and found him looking back. His eyes were a dark, glowing red, and he sat with his hand perched on the door handle. In the window behind him, red eyes that mirrored his own were slowly emerging from the darkness, coming so close to the car that the glass was beginning to fog up from its panting breath. How it was able to keep pace with the car when Steve had the accelerator pressed against the floor was unknown and frightening to him.

“Don’t,” Steve begged as Billy’s fingers curled around the handle, getting ready to pull it open like an emergency exit, “I can still help you.”

“I’ve been lied to before,” Billy said solemnly, his two-toned voice warbling as he pulled on the handle and opened the door to give himself over to the creature that was waiting hungrily by the window.

-----

“The fuck is this?”

Steve opened his eyes abruptly and nearly fell out of his seat as he transitioned into a wakeful state. Startled, he sat up and rubbed at his eyes uncomprehendingly.

“They’re just pancakes, Hargrove, don’t be rude,” he said sleepily without fully realizing what it was Billy was talking about. “Misshapen, maybe, but still just pancakes.”

Freshly showered, Billy stood before him wearing the beanie taken from Dustin’s house and some of Steve’s own clothing. An old ‘Hawkins High Phys. Ed.’ shirt clung tightly to his torso, baring a little bit of midriff above the hem of some old sweats. In his hand he held Steve’s two-way radio Dustin had gifted him to include him as part of their party, and through that radio he could hear Max’s voice trying to make contact.

“Steve, come in, Steve! Are you there?”

“Why do you have a two-way radio to my little sister sitting by your bed?” Billy asked icily, unabashed anger seeping out of his very being.

“What the hell were you doing in my bedroom?” Steve countered, feeling his stomach drop when he came to understand the implications Billy was making. He stood up and made to swipe the radio from Billy’s hand. “It’s seriously not what you think.”

“Remind me, where have I heard that one before?” Billy pulled the radio easily out of Steve’s reach, glowering at him as they faced off. “This looks pretty fucking bad for you, Harrington; she’s not even fifteen yet, you sick fuck.”

“It’s not just for your sister,” Steve said heatedly, then, realizing how that sounded, amended by saying, “Look, I know you know I take care of her friends- this, it’s just- it’s just a radio to communicate with them, alright? They’re weird nerds who don’t like to use phones like normal people. It’s not for anything as dirty as you’re imagining, so would you quit looking for reasons to hate me when I haven’t even done anything?”

Sighing, Steve ran a hand through his hair and reached out for the radio, silently asking for it to be handed over. Billy continued to hold it, staring at him with an indecipherable look on his face. They stood at odds with one another before Dustin’s voice came through the radio speaker.

“Steve! It’s Dustin, we have a situation- please advise. Come in, Steve! Over!”

Billy looked at the radio in his hand and then at Steve with a scowl. He looked bored as he finally relinquished it without further fuss, sitting down at the table opposite of Steve and pulling the plates of food towards him. He gave him a mean look as he began sandwiching the fried slices of bologna between a couple pancakes before biting into them.

Relieved and annoyed, Steve turned away to speak into the radio. “I’m here, I’m here, sorry, what’s up?”

“Oh my God, it’s about time!” Dustin huffed. “You said you’d radio me later and you never did! Over.”

“Some stuff came up,” Steve mumbled, sitting down at the table and rubbing at his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Will,” Dustin explained. Steve frowned. “He says he saw something last night that might have to do with the Mind Flayer-”

“Whoa whoa whoa! Hold on a second,” Steve interrupted quickly, casting a furtive glance towards Billy who was now watching him suspiciously. “I’m uh, I’m not alone over here.”

There was silence on the radio after Steve let up on the talk button. Billy squinted at him and mouthed ‘it’s not what you think’ sardonically at him. Steve sighed and shrugged; there wasn’t an easy way to explain this.

“I swear Steve, if you’ve been ignoring us because you’re with a GIRL-”

“No!” Steve exclaimed in frustration. Why did it seem like everyone was against him today? “I’m not- I’m not with a girl; haven’t even been with a girl since-”

“Oh, Steve,” Billy chirped in an ugly, high falsetto, speaking loudly enough for the radio to catch and relay his voice clearly. “Quit playing with that toy and come back to play with me.”

Horrified at Billy’s poor impression of a girl, Steve turned to face him with a look of shock.

“What the hell is your damage Hargrove? You know they probably heard that,” he hissed as he let took his finger off the talk button. “Why do you constantly have to prove yourself as being the biggest thorn in my side? Can’t you hop off my dick for five fucking minutes?”

Billy snickered and laughed, clearly satisfied with himself. He shot him a wink when Steve turned up his middle finger at him and bit down on another one of his weird bologna/pancake amalgamations.

“Was that Billy?”

Max’s voice. Both Steve and Billy froze as she called them out, sharing a mutual look of horror at having been recognized.

“Steve? Why are you with Billy?”

“Uh.” Wide-eyed, he looked to Billy for help in answering, but was met with nothing but a look of shock. They both floundered for a moment, during which Billy took the chance to shove more food in his mouth as though to say he was currently preoccupied and couldn’t be assed to help explain. “It… wasn’t?” Steve finally answered lamely.

A strong silence permeated over the radio before it crackled and relayed Max’s voice as she said, “Steve, he’s made fun of me plenty of times that I’d know his ‘I’m a dumb girl’ voice from anywhere.”

Steve groaned and threw Billy a dirty look, to which he received a simple shrug in response. It wasn’t supposed to have been a secret, exactly, but his children knew the history between them just as well as he did and he’d eventually have to explain to them just how they’d come to be together sooner or later. “Alright, yeah, I’m with your brother. He’s at my place.”

“Step-brother,” Billy corrected gruffly, wiping away some crumbs from his mouth.

“Can he hear me right now?” Max asked.

“Uh,” Steve said. “Yeah, he can hear you,” he replied after Billy gave him the go-ahead.

“Don’t come home.”

At first, Steve thought she’d said it out of anger, or spite, or something. It was vague enough that it could have been construed that way (especially with how flatly she’d spoken), but the look on Billy’s face made it clear that it was less a threat and more a warning, of sorts. He stopped chewing his food, eyebrows coming together as he frowned deeply. That vaguely sorrowful look that had crept up around his eyes from before surfaced in his features again as he stared ahead of himself.

“Message received?” Steve asked quietly, unsure of how to process his change in demeanor, to which Billy gave a brief, curt nod. He shoved the plates of food away and sat back with a forlorn expression on his face. “Message received,” he repeated into the radio. “Could you uh, put Dustin back on? Who all’s over there with you guys?”

There was a moment of silence in which Steve pictured the radio changing hands. While he waited for a response, he pulled the dish with the pancakes on it closer towards himself and made a second attempt at eating one.

“The whole party’s here, Steve. We have a situation that requires your assistance, over.”

“Yeah, I remember,” he said through a mouthful of soft food. “Not to be like, dismissive about it, but is there any chance it can wait? I’m kind of… ‘booked’, for the rest of the day; we can have, like, a group meeting and discuss things in person tomorrow, if it’s not urgent.”

He was careful not to mention how he planned on sharing Billy’s situation with them if they agreed, given how angry he’d been about the prospect earlier. It didn’t look as though Billy was paying him much attention at that point, however, as he stood up somberly and walked out of the dining room without a word, no longer interested in eavesdropping on his conversation. Steve wanted to follow after him to make sure he didn’t go anywhere he wasn’t supposed to, but stayed still and finished off the pancake he’d been eating.

“He says it’s not dire; just wanted us to be aware that something might be fucky. You wanna meet up with us tomorrow afternoon at Mike’s house? Over.”

“Sure, that’s fine,” Steve replied. He waited a moment to see if Billy was going to return, and when he was certain he wasn’t going to, he dropped his voice to a whisper and said, “I need you to do me a small favour before then, Henderson.”

“Oh my God, Steve, seriously? Another one? Over.”

Ignoring the indignation with which Dustin spoke, Steve continued. “I need you to research werewolves for me, alright? Like, specifically if it can be cured. Can you do that for me?”

“Uh, I mean, sure? Why though? Does this have something to do with our campaign? Over.” The fact that Dustin was so suspicious caused a little grin to spread out across Steve’s face. In spite of everything, leave it to Dustin to find a way to route it all back to the game he’d gotten him involved with.

“I’ll let you know tomorrow,” Steve said, unable to keep a teasing lilt from affecting the tone of his words. “And uh, just so you know, I’ll probably be bringing Max’s brother along, so don’t freak out if he shows up. Over and out, nerd.”

“Oh, now you decide to start using-”

Steve switched the radio off abruptly before Dustin could finish his sentence and set it face down on the surface of the table. He sat still for a moment, feeling his earlier exhaustion swirling within him like a snowglobe before he stood up and wandered out into the living room. He found Billy lying splayed out on the couch, eyes closed and resting easily atop the cushions.

“Just make yourself at home, why don’t you,” Steve said dryly, to which Billy gave a noncommittal grunt. “Do you, uh, need a place to stay tonight?” he asked awkwardly when he understood that Billy wasn’t going to move from his position.

Opening his eyes, Billy stared straight up at the ceiling with a stern look on his face.

“I can stay with Tommy H. if it’s a problem,” he said after a minute.

“I don’t really care what you do,” Steve replied, placing a hand on his hip. “But he’d ask questions, you know. You don’t really… look like how you should.” Billy heaved out a long and depressive sigh, shutting his eyes again. “It’s fine, though- you can stay in the spare bedroom upstairs,” Steve offered.

“Couch is fine,” Billy mumbled.

“You’d be missing out, it’s got a Queen-size mattress up there.”

“Couch is fine,” Billy repeated tiredly.

Steve shrugged. “Suit yourself, I guess.” He studied Billy laid out flat across the couch and felt that familiar need to show him pity. He couldn’t help but wonder what Max’s warning applied to; wondered if Billy would tell him about it if he asked.

“You were right about what you said before.” Billy’s voice was soft with exhaustion, but even so, it managed to break into his thoughts. Steve gave him a look of incomprehension. “About my hair, you were right; it’s coming back.”

“Oh,” Steve said, refraining from tapping into his inherent desire to chirp ‘I told you so’ back at him. “That’s great, man. I knew it would.”

“Still paler than the underside of a witch’s tit though,” Billy muttered, holding up a hand to examine his new complexion morosely.

And, yeah, he was right: even though it seemed his hair was going to be restored to its former glory (given enough time), it didn’t look like the same could be said for his skin. He was still woefully pale, looking less like the golden god he’d been before and more like, as Billy had said, the pale underside of a witch’s tit. Steve eyed him contemplatively, trying to come up with a solution that didn’t involve him laying naked out in the snow to try and catch some sun.

“Do you remember Tammy Thomspon?” Steve asked eventually, to which Billy had to pause in order to connect the name with the person being referenced. Once he’d nodded, Steve continued. “She always had a tan year round; used to talk about how she’d go to like, tanning beds and stuff.”

“I am not going to a tanning salon, if that’s what you’re suggesting here Harrington,” Billy said decisively.

“No no! She used to do tanning beds, but then she kept talking about how they were unhealthy and caused skin cancer and blah blah blah. Before the semester ended though, she said she started using some new thing; she was telling me about it in History before the final,” Steve elaborated, stepping further into the room to take a seat on the armrest of the couch. He snapped his fingers as he tried to remember what it was. “It was like, some spray on stuff? A spray-on tan, I think. You could try that? Wouldn't even have to go anywhere to get it done, I think it’s sold retail.”

Billy appeared lost in thought as he contemplated the option. He flexed his pale fingers and heaved another heavy sigh. “Anything would probably be better than this.”

‘You don’t- I mean, it’s not… you don’t look that bad,” Steve lied. Billy put his hand down and glared at him from the far end of the sofa. “Alright alright, so you look like the white end of a fingernail. We get some spray tan, rinse you in it, and presto, you’re back to being average, dark and handsome. I mean, if Tammy Thompson can do it, it shouldn’t be that hard, right?”

Billy snorted. “Handsome, huh? Probably not; she was as dumb as the rest of the cows here.”

“She wasn’t the brightest light in the shed,” Steve agreed, feeling the slightest bit embarrassed at having called Billy handsome. “But, cool; glad we got something sorted out today.

“I’ll be in my room if you need me for anything, and I know you already know where that is,” he said as he came to a rise, casting a snide look at Billy before heading back towards the staircase.

Predictably, Billy clicked his tongue in annoyance. “You realize you only gave me a towel earlier, right? I wasn’t about to put that thing on again. I wasn’t snooping; just trying to find a fucking change of clothes when I heard Maxine yelling for you on your shitty bedside table radio,” he said in that easy, drawling nature of his. “What was I supposed to think?”

“Why don’t you try thinking a little less and just ask instead of jumping to conclusions?” Steve huffed. He hadn’t wanted this to turn into another argument, but it seemed as though the conversation was quickly heading that way. “Look, I don’t- I’m too tired to argue with you. I’m gonna catch a nap and then we can like… I don’t know. Get some bottles of spray tan and hose you down in the backyard or something.”

Billy grunted in affirmation, and Steve was content to leave it at that. He shot Billy one last look before he stepped out of the living room, and, leaving the food out on the table where he’d left it, went straight up to his room. Like the condition he’d left Dustin’s cellar in, he’d clean up the dining room later.

As he entered his room, Steve was afraid, for a moment, that he’d find evidence of Billy having gone snooping through all of his belongings. It would’ve been just like him to try and find something else he could use to hold against him while Steve was unaware, but as he looked around the area carefully, it seemed as though his room appeared untouched. His closet was left open from where Billy had gone in to take the clothes he was currently wearing, but, true to his word, it didn’t look like he’d rifled any deeper into it then he’d needed to.

Relieved, Steve stepped forward until he was toe-to-hem with his bed and let himself fall face forward directly onto the mattress, exhaling a deep sigh once he collided with it. He laid there unmoving, breathing in the hot, trapped air between his face and his comforter before he rolled over and laid himself out spread-eagle to look up at the ceiling.

“Why does this have to be so much harder than it is?” he groaned, cupping his hands together to cover his face. The familiar question he’d wrestled with of ‘why me?’ that he’d been struggling to answer since any of this started began cycling through his mind. Of course, now that he had time to rest, his brain wouldn’t let him.

He just wanted to help, and already he’d almost lost the trust of the only two people he could rely on. Neither of them seemed to understand that it was too great a burden for one person to have to shoulder alone. It needed to be a team effort, but no one seemed willing to branch out and make it one. Once again, it was left to him to take the initiative.

“Why is it so hard for me to help anyone in this damn town?” he moaned.

#harringrove #harringrove fic #billy hargrove/steve harrington #billy x steve #billyxsteve #billy/steve #steve harrington #billy hargrove #werewolf!billy #slow burn #long fic #canon compliant au #stranger things #stranger things fic

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magioftheseas · 5 years

Text

Day 1 - Reserve

Written for @the-hinata-project

Prompt: Reserve Course Student Hinata

Rating: G

Warnings: Lowkey manipulation and insecurity, but other than that, not much.

Notes: Alright, so I’m still in the middle of these, but like... Here’s the first one! They’re all going to be pretty short, around 2K but I’m gonna do my best to finish all of them so wish me luck...! And this first fic is gen. No ships. Next ones won’t be so gen. It’s also pre-HPA. Kind of.

***Alternate Ao3 Link***

Commission? Donate?

The last wish he made on New Year’s was a simple one.

I want to get into Hope’s Peak.

But of course that would never happen.

“Can’t you dream more realistically, Hajime? Do you have any idea how expensive Hope’s Peak actually is? We can’t afford that.”

“I... I know that, but...”

“If you know then why are you burdening us with this? Please. Just think about other people besides yourself for once.”

“...sorry.”

His mother sighs, but ruffles his hair in a show of affection.

“You current high school isn’t so bad, right? You can make good friends here, and it’s a fine school.”

“I guess it’s...decent,” he mumbles.

“Just don’t even worry about Hope’s Peak anymore,” she tells him. “It’s impossible, and it can’t be helped. Keep your chin up. Okay?”

“...fine...”

Because he knew, after all, that she had a point. They couldn’t afford it. And he wasn’t talented. It was a pipe dream to attend. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Still...

For his birthday, he was given a new laptop to replace the old. It was a fairly recent model. Pretty expensive. Likely compensation. He can’t say he didn’t like it.

He wasn’t ungrateful. He doesn’t think so.

It’s just that I admire Hope’s Peak more than anything.

So much so that he finds himself on the forums first thing.

>Does anyone have any idea who’s going to be in the upcoming batch?

>They haven’t finished scouting, right? Oh, but I just saw on the news that an actual princess was accepted! Hope’s Peak really can get in anyone!

>Wow, actual royalty?!

>There’s this photographer I follow. She’s getting in, too, I’m pretty sure.

>I just saw Saionji Hiyoko-san’s performance last week. I’m positive she’s getting in.

>I’m more interested in the princess. Can you imagine how lucky it would be to meet an actual princess?

>>They’ll be running the lottery in a month or so. What I would give to have more of a chance...

>Wow, they’re doing that again?

>With how much getting into the reserve course costs, you probably have a better chance with the lottery...

>But if you win the lottery, you’re actually considered talented. Reserves are just...y’know, reserves.

>But you’ll get to meet the princess, potentially. I think the money’s worth it, even if all I can do is steal a glance!

>Still... Seems so lame that you can just pay your way in...

>But brand name recognition is pretty powerful...

>>I heard you can actually get into the main course from the reserve course if you do well enough.

>No way! That’s a pipe dream! Maybe if you paid like, twice as much!

>Must be nice to be rich, huh...

Hinata stares, wondering what to type, but also letting the thoughts swirl around in his head.

>>I would do anything to get into Hope’s Peak. But my family just can’t afford that.

>Yeah, mine neither. Who actually can?

>You’d be surprised... They’re getting a lot of enrollments.

>You can’t like...get a scholarship or anything? It’s not like you need to go to college after attending Hope’s Peak.

>Well the golden gates can’t open that wide, I suppose...

>It’s for the best. If just about anyone could get in, it wouldn’t be that special.

Hinata bites his lip, picking at the peeling skin with his teeth.

>>Still. I want to get in more than anything.

>If you aren’t talented, it can’t be helped.

>>I would give anything.

>Pffft. No kidding. I’d give an arm and a leg, probably.

>>I would give anything.

>A lot of people would.

>You’re like a super fan, huh. Well, I am, too, but still...

>>Getting into Hope’s Peak has always been my dream.

>Everyone wants to be special, man.

>But if everyone was special then no one would be special.

>It can’t be helped. You’re either born talented or you aren’t.

>Right?! I must have spent hours drawing but there was always that one person I could just never compare to. It’s hopeless!

>You shouldn’t say hopeless on the Hope’s Peak forums!

>Haha, sorry!

>>I’ve never been talented. There’s not one thing I’m particularly good at.

>Normie...

>>But I want to get into Hope’s Peak Academy... More than anything.

>Give it up. For your own good. Wishing for the impossible isn’t healthy.

>Hey, don’t tell him that! What if he ends up winning the lottery?

>Yeah, right!

>>I’m not particularly lucky, either.

>Luck’s not a talent anyway.

>Are you sure? I’ve known people who get ridiculously lucky while gambling...

>If they gamble too much, that luck’s bound to run out. And I bet they’re not that lucky, they just brag a lot.

>That might be true... Still it would be nice just to get into Hope’s Peak by chance...

>Whoever wins that lottery probably is ridiculously lucky considering how many people are participating. We’re talking like, every high school student in their first year in the country.

>Sucks to be other countries, huh.

>Maybe someday but for now, I like not having that much competition.

>Still a ridiculous amount competing...

>I bet it’ll be someone who can afford the reserve course if they haven’t already enrolled.

>No fair! That kind of thing should disqualify you immediately!

>>I just...want to get in...

>Yeah we all do. But it’s impossible.

>Impossible.

>Totally impossible.

>Pigs will fly first.

>I heard some Ultimates actually can make some crazy shit. We might see flying pigs pretty soon.

>That’s terrifying.

>>I just want to get in.

>You should get offline.

He should. He really, really should.

Is it really impossible?

“Of course it is,” he can practically hear them murmur. “Not only are you untalented, you can’t afford it! And you’re going to win the lottery, either!”

Hinata buries his face into his hands, shuddering.

I just... I just...

To his surprise, he later receives a DM. Shivering, he clicks it open.

>Would you really do anything for Hope’s Peak?

He doesn’t recognize the name of the sender but...it looks official.

>>Yes. Of course. Why?

>There actually is a program you can sign up for that will get you in without having to pay a coin.

Hinata blinked once. Twice.

It’s way too good to be true.

But he’s desperate. Beyond desperate.

>>What is this program? How can I sign up?

>Here’s the information.

What he’s about to do is how people get themselves abducted, he’s pretty sure. But right now, he’s desperate and... If it really was someone associated with Hope’s Peak, how bad can it be? What’s the worse than can happen?

I already have no chance getting in. I know that... But...

His heart was pounding as he took the train. He stared out the window, at HPA’s towering buildings in the distance, getting closer and closer, and he sucks in his breath.

It’s so shining that it hurts to look at.

Shining like a dream...

“Ah, Hinata-kun, you made it after all. So you have the necessary information?”

“Uh... Yes...” Truth be told, he didn’t understand most of it. There were a lot of words that were hard to read and pretty...advanced. “I just...well you said you couldn’t explain everything in just files, so...”

The other looked pretty professional. Sharply dressed and smiling in a way that at least seemed pretty welcoming. But...still pretty intimidating, considering the circumstances. Hinata ducked his head, feeling rather flustered.

“Yes, it’s meant to be kept very tightly under wraps, you see,” they laugh. “I need to assure confidentiality before explaining, Hinata-kun. Surely you understand.”

That’s...weird.

But it made his blood thrum with excitement to be a part of.

“I... Y-Yes, of course. Absolutely... Of course...”

“Sign this form, then, promising that.”

“O-Of course...!”

He scribbles down his signature without a second thought. The other smiled more, pleased. Hinata squirmed in his seat, and tried to keep his posture straight.

With that, the other sat across from him, polite and yet...expectant.

Ah... Hah...

“So you’re willing to do anything for this school,” they say, voice almost light but also dense with significance. “Might I ask why?”

“It’s...as I said on the forums,” Hinata mumbles, fiddling with his tie. Even dressed professionally for this would-be interview, he feels underdressed. “I’ve always admired this school. Always. It’s always been my dream to...to go there...”

The other nods, expression unchanged.

“And why do you wish so badly to go there, despite not having a talent that can be cultivated?”

Hinata flinched.

“T-That’s...! I...” He hesitates, but he soon finds the words just spilling out. “I just want to be someone I can be proud of. Someone who can stand tall. Be confident. Be significant. Isn’t that what I deserve?”

“Isn’t that what everyone deserves?”

Hinata’s nails dig into his palms.

“I admire Hope’s Peak...more than anyone. I will give whatever I can...and then more than that...if I have to.” His teeth grit. “Whatever it takes... W-Whatever it takes...!”

Even though I know it’s selfish and impossible, I just...!

He just wanted to be someone. Someone other than...this.

Unimportant. Unremarkable. A faceless, meaningless part of the mass. The idea of being consumed by mediocrity and insignificance for the rest of his life, never to matter, never to even be remembered, just to disappear, just like he never even existed—

“I’ll do...w-whatever...it takes...” He’s shaking, eyes wide and crazed. “Whatever it takes... Whatever I can...and then more than that...if I have to.”

“Ah. I see.” An easy smile. And yet, the atmosphere felt so heavy that it was near suffocating. “Very well then, Hinata-kun. That’s exactly the kind of attitude we’re looking for.”

Hinata lit up.

“R-Really?” He dares to let hope slip into his tone. “D-Do you really mean it?”

A nod.

“Hinata-kun... If you could be reborn from the faceless body of a miserable nobody into the world’s hope... Would you?”

“That...sounds too good to be true...” His heart really was racing, but he was flushed with excitement. “But... Y-Yeah... I... Of course...”

“Then, allow me to tell you about how that can be possible. If you agree, you’ll be accepted into the school, free of charge, no talent necessary. In fact, it’s even essential that you be talentless.”

I...don’t understand.

He doesn’t understand but it just sounds so incredible that he can’t help but be swayed.

“...tell me.”

“Very well.”

A folder of files is placed before him. They look too important to grasp. And the stamped out letters of CONFIDENTIAL stare back into his wide-eyed, shimmering gaze.

Fingers trembling, Hinata actually slices his finger open as he flips it open.

He doesn’t even feel the sting, as engrossed as he is in the text.

“I...”

The words swirl around in his head, over and over until he drowns in them.

“Do you need time to think about it?” the other asks him kindly. So kindly that Hinata is struck cold. “Tell you what... You can still get into the reserve course. You don’t have to say yes right away, and the deadline will be in a few months from now. You can attend classes here until then...and then make your decision on whether or not you’re willing to stay. Okay?”

“I... O-Okay.” Hinata swallows. “That’s... I’m okay with that.”

I said I’d do anything. And I do...want to do anything. But...

His hands are shaking while still gripping the files.

I can’t...let this chance slip by...even if it’s something like this. This is everything I ever wanted. Why am I even hesitating?

“It’s alright,” the other says reassuringly, taking the files away with ease. “Hinata-kun, I know you’ll make the best decision for yourself.”

For...myself. Myself...

“I...yes.”

“I’ll have them send in your acceptance letter and uniform.” His hand is shook, the grip warm and calloused. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Hinata-kun.”

“A-A pleasure... Yeah.”

Just like that, Hinata was stumbling out of Hope’s Peak, trembling and falling to pieces with every shaky step.

I have to do it, he can’t help but think. I have to do it, for...for myself...

This was going to be the year his life changed irreparably. He was sure of it.

#thehinataproject #hajime hinata #hinata hajime #Magi fics #the hinata project #although it's not going to show up #I might as well #I'll probably have to message someone anyway #The tragedy of being muted

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moonwaif · 5 years

Text

Snow Over Insomnia: ch. 1

Pairings: Gladnis, promptis

Theme: snowed in

Summary:

Once a year, Shiva blesses Insomnia with snowfall. This year's snow day finds four friends in transition. There's Noctis, who's trying his best to enjoy freshman year. With his best friend Prompto enrolled at a different college, it hasn't been easy. When a particularly controversial lecture puts Noctis on the spot, he says some things he regrets. Can he make amends before their friendship freezes over?

Meanwhile, there's Gladiolus, who's finding it increasingly difficult to deny his feelings for coworker and friend Ignis Scientia. The appearance of a mysterious figure from Ignis's past might just be the sign that it's time to come clean. Will Gladio make a move, or will he let the opportunity melt away?

PT. I: 10:12 hours

It was a good thing Noctis had remembered to mute his laptop before class started, because he received his first message from Prompto just twelve minutes into the lecture.

Prompto: brrrr! Freezing my a$$ off this morning

A selfie instantly followed: Prompto in a warm jacket and white beanie, grimacing up at the camera with a steaming coffee cup clutched in his gloved hand.

Noctis: heh. nice pic. whatcha drinking?

Prompto: mocha moogle latte. Yummm ;P

Noctis: all that sugar is gonna give you a headache

Prompto: hahaha yeah, probably. but i need some caffeine. i couldnt sleep all night thinking about that presentation!!!! ｡゜(｀Д´)゜｡

Prompto: so we still getting snowed in tonight?

Noct's smile widened. It wasn’t often that Shiva graced the arid landscape of Lucis with her affections, but at least once a year, snow fell on the city of Insomnia. Sometimes it was a few flakes, sometime just sleet. On rare occasions, such as the one predicted by Insomnian weather channels on this particular day, it was a blizzard.

Noctis: heck yeah! hope you're ready to binge some King’s Knight.

Prompto: ugh am i ever. so ready to chill after getting this presentation out of the way…

Noctis leaned back in his chair, brow furrowing. He cast a quick glance at projector screen down at the front of the hall: a slide about the Lucian civil war.

Noctis: y? U nervous?’

Prompto: yeah

Prompto: stomach hurts

Prompto: p sure im gonna throw up

Noctis: relax, prom

Noctis: you've been practicing a lot, right?

Noctis: you're gonna be great

Prompto: dude you have no idea what id give to hear you say that rn

Prompto: i wish we still went to the same school

Prompto: ｡゜(｀Д´)゜｡

A dull, tight ache formed in the center of Noct's chest. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, the reply coming slower this time.

Noctis: me too.

Prompto: yeah...

Prompto: too bad my best friend has to go to a fancy schmancy ivy league school for geniuses (¬‿¬)

Noctis rolled his eyes.

Noctis: im not here cuz im a genius, prom

Prompto: his majesty is sooooo modest ;)

Noctis: srlsy

Noctis: im like most of the ppl here. average.

Noctis: the only genius ive met so far is specs

Prompto: lol youre just saying that to make me feel better

Noctis: nah. youre way cooler than like half of the people here

Prompto: ♥‿♥

Prompto: too bad i cant afford the tuition lol. id kill to have iggy as my teacher

Noctis glanced up from his computer. From his own seat in the center of the hall, Ignis was just a small figure behind an even smaller podium. Still, Noctis had to admit that Specs was definitely in his element at the front of a classroom. His fitted grey sweater, crisp collar and perfectly coiffed hair were every bit the image of the up-and-coming academian. The freshmen in the front row hung dreamily on every elegant gesture of his gloved hands as his voice rang out through the hall, crisp and clear as water. He said something that sent a murmur of laughter through the rows of desks. Noctis smiled.

Noctis: yeah its not bad

Prompto: duh!! hes probably way cooler than all of my professors combined

Prompto: anyway, g2g. Gonna try to run through my presentation one more time before class starts

Prompto: (;´༎ຶД༎ຶ`)

Noctis: dont worry prom. Youre gonna kick this presentation in the ass.

Prompto: thanks dude

Prompto: catch ya later

Noctis let his gaze linger on the final message, Iggy’s melodic tones lilting in the background. He tuned in long enough just to get the gist of the topic (ugh - still on the Lucian civil war). He turned his attention back to his laptop and clicked on an open tab, which took him directly to Prompto’s ChocoGram feed. There weren’t any new updates, but that didn’t stop him from smiling as he reviewed some of the earlier posts: Prompto getting ready to dig into a steaming, greasy pizza; a #tbt selfie featuring the baby chocobo they’d helped rescue during their summer road trip to Lestallum; a prank-selfie with a drooling, sleeping Gladio. Noctis chuckled. He’d been there when Prompto had taken that one. Even Gladio had agreed that the shot was just too good not to share.

He continued scrolling. A bunch of people Noctis didn't know, probably at a party; a filtered, black-and-white shot of a glistening, neon lit alley; a selfie with some guy Noctis had never seen before; a picture of the school’s mascot, tagged #gocactuars; Prompto wearing glasses…

Wait a second.

Noctis scrolled back to the photo of Prompto and the stranger. “Hanging with the coolest TA around,” read the caption. Tagged: #whenyourfriendhasthesamemajor, #collegelife #insomniaboys.

Friend, huh?

Noct’s eyes narrowed. He silently listed off any names he’d heard Prompto mention over the past semester as he analyzed the man’s features: platinum hair; a strong chin; sharp, intelligent eyes whose color he couldn’t quite discern through the ChocoGram filter. He let the cursor hover over the smug, obnoxious grin. A tagged username appeared: “Ghiranzenator.”

Before Noctis could really stop to self-reflect, he was scrolling through Ghiranzenator’s feed. It was the kind of content you’d expect from a twenty-something with a pompadour and generic good looks. Gym selfies tagged #fitnesslifestyle; poses in scenic, well-known locations captioned with thought-provoking yet totally irrelevant quotes (ugh, so pretentious). He wondered how Prompto even knew this guy. Was he the TA for one of Prompto’s classes? Did they have mutual friends? If so, why hadn’t Prompto mentioned him before? But now that Noctis thought about it, like really thought about it, he hadn’t really heard Prompto say a whole lot about any of the new friends he was making at school.

Wasn't that kind of weird?

A crumpled wad of paper plummeted through his thoughts, ricocheting off his forehead. Noct's head snapped in the direction it had come from. His eyes were met by a vision of Gladio, squeezed into a desk barely large enough to accommodate his lanky frame.

“Pay. Attention,” he mouthed, cocking his head in Iggy’s direction.

Noctis scowled. That was the one downside of having his bodyguard disguised as a classmate. Gladio was just all too ready to make sure Noct behaved like a good little student. The plus side was that Noct had at least one friend who could commiserate with his suffering.

Like now, for instance. A fan club member from the front row was monologuing, earning exasperated looks from his classmates. Noctis and Gladio exchanged a few muffled snickers.

“Thank you for sharing your thoughts with us, Cleetus,” Ignis cut in, his voice laced with a strain so barely audible that Noct and Gladio were probably the only ones who even picked up on it. “As you have noted for us, it is quite interesting that most rebel demands would be considered centrist by modern standards. However, we should recognize one deconstructionist philosopher whose theories remain polarizing even to this day.”

Ignis went to the next slide. A portrait of a wide-jawed man with a face only a mother garula could love brooded down from the display screen.

“Oh great,” Noctis muttered, drawing a confused look from Gladio. “Not this guy…”

"Regulus Invicta," Ignis continued, "is remembered as one of the strongest advocates for freedom of speech throughout the history of Lucis. However, what is less commonly remembered are his persistent demands for the de-establishment of the monarchy in favor of what we would now refer to as a democratic socialist republic. Even during the Lucian civil war, Invicta was a controversial figure. At first his philosophies were embraced by the deconstructionists, who sought to overthrow the Lucis Caelums in favor of a fragmented nation-states ruled by regional noblemen. They were less in favor of his leanings toward a democratic socialist republic. Despite this difference of opinion, Invicta was one of the few intellectuals of his time that insisted on the right of deconstructionists to espouse their ideals without punishment or censorship. Unfortunately, this insistence, combined with his involvement with radical circles, led to his eventual imprisonment. He would die of consumption shortly thereafter.”

A hand shot up - the same wind-bag from before.

“Yes, Cleetus?” Ignis’s smile was tight.

“Professor Scientia, as you were speaking I couldn’t help but remember an essay I came across in the Lucian History Journal the other day. The article was about the evolution of Lucian collective memory of the civil war.”

Gladio chuckled. “Oh boy. Here he goes again. This guy really can’t stop himself, can he?”

Noctis wasn’t laughing. He wanted Ignis to get back on topic and finish explaining why Invicta and the deconstructionists were wrong.

“According to the arguments propounded throughout the essay” - Gladio actually snorted at this point - “collective opinion regarding Invicta and the deconstructionists split after Lucis became a constitutional monarchy. Invicta was distanced from the deconstructionists and by means of propaganda -”

Bells went off in Noct’s head. Propaganda? What was this guy trying to get at?

“ - and state sanctioned school curriculum -”

Noctis gripped the arms of his desk, knuckles whitening.

“ - Invicta gradually became celebrated as one of the fathers of free speech. Meanwhile, his links to deconstructionists were covered up, preventing further instability to Lucian society while conveniently appropriating the parts that aligned with contemporary values.”

He paused for a breath. Ignis stepped out from behind the podium, quick to seize back control of the conversation.

“Your statements indicate a very post-modern interpretation of the historical records, Cleetus,” he remarked politely. “It’s interesting that you bring up social instability. Although not as commonly espoused today, there are ideologues who from time to time self-identify as deconstructionists. However, they are often ridiculed by both leftists and conservatives, rarely gaining any political legitimacy. In this way, the general public remains largely unexposed to contemporary deconstructionism outside of the occasional satirical representation on late night TV shows or the funnies.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

There was a rustle as heads turned in Noct's direction. Ignis adjusted his glasses.

“Is there something you would like to share, Prince Noctis?”

Shit. Gladio slid down low in his seat, muttering something that sounded a lot like, “Smooth move, Noct.”

Noctis cleared his throat. His cheeks felt like two flames. “N- not particularly.”

“Very well.” Ignis returned his attention to the slides. Noctis averted his eyes, only to be met by the expectant gazes coming his way from the next row down. His gaze happened to fall on Cleetus, he shot him a particularly snide smirk from over his shoulder.

Something in Noctis snapped.

“It’s just that, you said ‘satirical.’”

Ignis stopped mid-sentence. Scandalized whispers rippled throughout the hall. Gladio was actually facepalming. Meanwhile, Noctis’s cheeks somehow managed to get even hotter. He felt the need to continue.

“I just thought - well, it sounds like you think those depictions are kind of inaccurate, or something.”

Gods, he was sounding extremely upset and defensive right now, wasn’t he? What had happened to all that training in diplomacy and public speaking? Embarrassing.

“Satire is merely a genre, your highness," Ignis demured. "One that hyperbolizes a real-life topic or theme with intent to criticize, ridicule or expose. We may identify this genre from a neutral standpoint without either validating or condemning the arguments contained within the work itself.”

Noctis schooled his expression so it’d look like he’d understood this last bit.

“But you said the satirical representation is the only representation people see. Doesn’t that imply that there’s another representation that most people don’t get to see?”

“There normally is more than one side to every story,” Ignis said lightly, and his lips curved in such a smug, handsome grin that Noctis could have chucked his laptop at him.

“Yeah, but sometimes one side has better evidence than the other one. Shouldn’t that also be part of the discussion?”

He was pressuring Ignis to agree with him, to say that the deconstructionists were “wrong” and the monarchy was “right” and therefore Noctis was right, too. That the deconstructionists were just radical, terrorist nutjobs whose hogwash theories did more harm than good, so why even bother discussing them at all? Noctis knew it. Gladio knew it. Most of all, Ignis probably knew it.

So why were they still disagreeing?

“Indeed. However, the objective of today’s lecture is merely to review the deconstructionism as an historical movement. I will leave the evaluation of the ideas espoused by said movement to all of you in your term papers.”

A smattering of chuckles. Oh yes, how adorable, how clever. Noctis opened his mouth to let loose another retort when Gladio nudged his foot.

"Let it go," he mouthed with a slight shake of his head. Noctis grit his teeth with an audible “tch,” nails biting into the surface of his palms. He deliberately avoided Gladio’s gaze, instead fixing his attention on his laptop. The Ghiranzenator taunted him from the other side of the screen, all chiseled jawline and knowing smile.

Noctis closed the laptop with a ‘snap.’

PT. II: 13:00 hours

“I was too hard on him, wasn’t I?”

The words were out of Ignis’s mouth before Gladio had even stepped through the door. The office was tiny - more like a closet, really. Gladio tossed a small paper bag onto the desk and pulled up a seat, careful not to spill the coffee in his other hand.

“What’s this?” Ignis asked, peering owlishly from behind his computer. Gladio handed over the coffee.

“Thought you could use a pick-me up," he replied. "And nah; Noct is tough. He gets worse from me during an average training session.”

“You’re just saying that,” Ignis mumbled, raising the cup to his lips and taking a sip. “Mmm, Gladio, this is delicious. Thank you.”

Gladio crossed his legs, leaning back with a pleased smile. “Heh. Thought you’d like that. And no, I’m not just saying that. Noct is pissed off, but he’ll live. Try some of the scone.”

Ignis reached into the paper bag obediently. “I should have waited until after class,” he muttered. “Or warned him about the topic before hand.”

“Yeah, that probably would’ve helped.”

“I just don’t want to allow him more special privileges than I already have! How am I supposed to prepare him for his future responsibilities if I keep treating him differently from the other students? Can you imagine, just last night he actually asked me to check his homework!”

“Did you?”

“What do you think?” Ignis snapped. “We live together for Eos’s sake, of course I did!"

“Yikes. How’s the scone?”

Ignis scowled. “You really must stop bringing me sugar. This is why my skin is breaking out.”

“One bite won’t hurt, prince charming.”

Ignis broke a off a tiny piece and popped it into his mouth, but not before shooting Gladio a glare.

“Relax, Iggy. Just give Noct a little time to cool down, think things through. He’ll come around.”

Ignis gave him a doubtful look. He took another bite.

“At least this scone is palatable.”

Gladio flashed him a cheeky smile. “Does that mean you’ll raise my grade professor?”

“I’ll consider it. After all, for an auditing student you do have unusually consistent attendance.”

“Someone’s gotta show up and keep the crown prince in line. Who better than his protector and professional babysitter, the royal shield?”

“Pity you have to sit through my lectures. I imagine it’s dull.”

“Nah. You’re way more interesting than the profs I had during my undergrad.”

‘A lot easier on the eyes, too,’ he thought. His gaze lingered on Ignis’s full, rosy lips before silently flickering away.

“There’s no need for flattery, Gladio. It’s not like I can actually give you credit for the course.”

“Sorry. Guess your little front row fan club is wearing off on me.”

Ignis reddened. He took a hurried sip of coffee, obviously stalling. Gladio grinned, letting himself indulge in the rare sight of a flustered Ignis.

“If the students show enthusiasm,” Ignis began, once he’d finished composing himself, “it is merely due to the engaging nature of the subject.”

“Oh, right. Lucian history makes me blush and squeal, too.”

“Did you come here for the sole purpose of force feeding me scones and distracting me from my work?”

“Why, is it working? Just kidding,” he added quickly at the stern look he received. “Actually, I thought we should touch base on our lovely royal charge’s training schedule over the Solstice. Iris has been bugging me about plans. She wants to invite the entire Amicitia clan over for a get-together.”

“Let me pull up my calendar.” Ignis swiveled in his chair, facing the computer monitor. Gladio contemplated his profile, thrown into sharp relief by the glow of the LED back-light. A million potential lines ran through his head. ‘It should be illegal to be so gorgeous.’ ‘You ever seen an angel up close? Because those cheekbones are high enough to graze the heavens.’

“Got any plans for the Solstice, Iggy?”

“I’m hoping to finish drafting my thesis proposal,” Ignis answered, with a light click of the mouse. “I’d also like to try my hand at a leiden sweet potato casserole. See if I can get Prince Noctis to eat something other than meat for a change.”

Gladio snickered. “Good luck with that last one. By the way, what’s your thesis about again? Food politics - “

“ - with Duscae as a case study for increased multifunctionality in agricultural policy making, yes.” Ignis spared him a brief glance, eyes crinkled with amusement. “I’m impressed you remember.”

‘Course I do,’ Gladio thought dismally. ‘I’ve Moogle searched every article you’ve ever published.’

Fortunately, he was spared the need to reply. One more click of the mouse, and Ignis was tilting the monitor in his direction.

“There we are. So, which dates does Iris have in mind?”

“She’s really got her eyes set on the day of the Solstice, as well the day right before and after. She needs me to help cook, put out decorations…”

‘Basically all the stuff we used to do when mom was around,’ he thought.

“I see. Why don’t I just make a note on my calendar for now? We can continue meeting as planned for the next two weeks. When it comes time, we'll evaluate how Noct is doing. Perhaps it won’t even be necessary for us to meet over the week of the Solstice.”

“Thanks Iggy. I appreciate it.”

“Certainly. It’s imperative that you spend quality time with your family over the holidays, uninterrupted.”

His smile was sad. Of course; Ignis didn't really have any family around to celebrate with. Gladio jiggled his knee, hesitating.

“H-hey, Iggy,” he began cautiously. “Y’know, if you don’t have any plans for the Solstice, you’re always welcome to - “

“Ah, Ignis! Just the man I was looking for.”

Ignis stood as two people Gladiolus had never seen before entered the office. The first was an attractive, bespectacled woman with golden hair swept back in an elegantly casual updo. Gladio, always the gentleman, rose instantly to his feet, pushing in his chair and squeezing back against the bookshelf in an effort to free up some space for her in the tiny room. She was followed by a pale young man who stood shoulder to shoulder with Gladiolus, which was a rare enough occurrence. What was really odd was Ignis's reaction. He blanched as the man entered. Then he was turning away to face the woman, almost as if he'd never even noticed the other visitor at all.

“Dr. Trepe! To what do I owe this pleasure?”

Her lips curved in a perfect cupid’s bow. “Ignis, dear, how many times must I remind you? Call me Quistis. Anyway, I was just giving Prince Ravus a tour of the department.” She gestured toward the man beside her.

Oh - so that’s why he looked familiar. Gladio had often seen the royal Nox Fleuret duo on magazine covers or on TV. Ravus cut a striking figure in person, with his wintry complexion and dual colored eyes. He seemed to resent being watched, interrupting Gladio’s examination with a peculiarly frigid glare.

“Prince Ravus will be joining our department as a research scholar next semester,” Quistis explained. “Your majesty, Ignis is a grad student and TA in our department. As you may be aware, he also serves as the royal advisor to Crown Prince Noctis. He’s quite the feather in the department’s cap.”

Gladio beamed, eyeing Ignis with pride. What he saw surprised him. Iggy’s shoulders were tense, his face frozen in a mask of false politeness.

Something was wrong.

“Thank you, Dr. Trepe. As it stands, I’ve already had the good fortune of making Mr. Scientia’s acquaintance.”

Gladio’s eyes snapped in Ravus’s direction. His expression was unreadable, but his tone of voice suggested that whatever fortune had been at play was anything but “good.”

“Indeed.” Ignis mustered a weak smile. “I’m honored his highness remembers me.”

Ravus flinched, the movement so quick it was barely perceptible. Gladio glanced between them. Whatever vibe was going on here, he didn't like it one bit. He asked the question before he could stop himself.

“How do you two know each other?”

Ignis gasped. “Oh, by the six - where are my manners? Dr. Trepe - “

“Quistis.”

“Quistis” - Ignis blushed - “and Prince Ravus, please allow me to introduce Gladiolus Amicitia, Prince Noctis’s sworn shield, as well as one of my dearest friends.”

Gladio’s chest swelled until it threatened to burst. He crossed his arms, lip quirking up into a satisfied smirk.

'Dearest friend, huh?'

“I see,” Quistis murmured, tapping her chin. Her eyes ran up and down Gladio’s frame with an openly appraising look. “I apologize for interrupting your discussion, Gladiolus. I doubt we made a very good impression.”

“Meeting a colleague of Iggy’s is never an imposition,” Gladio assured her. “Especially not when that colleague is as elegant and beautiful as yourself.”

Quistis blushed, blue eyes sparkling behind her spectacles. “I never imagined the royal shield was such a charmer. You’ll have to bring him around more often, Ignis.”

There was a momentary, infinitesimal fracture in Ignis’s facade. “Yes, well, I daren’t keep his majesty any longer," he said quickly. "I’m sure you’re both quite eager to continue the tour. Prince Ravus, it truly was a pleasure seeing you again. I look forward to our collaboration in the coming semester.”

“As do I,” Ravus snapped, his words laced with such venom that even Quistis sent him a mildly startled look. “Dr. Trepe, shall we?”

“C-certainly. Gladiolus, it was a pleasure. And Ignis, we’ll be seeing you tonight at the reception, won’t we?”

“Of course. The Grand Hotel Insomnia at six o’ clock, correct?”

“Not exactly ideal weather for an event, is it?” Gladio interjected, frowning. “The roads are supposed to freeze after seven.”

Ignis dismissed him with a breezy laugh. “Yes, well, you know what they say Gladio - the show must go on! Until tonight then, Dr. Trepe...Prince Ravus.”

He bowed at the waist. Gladio rushed to follow suit, but not before glimpsing the pain that flashed across the prince’s strange, distant eyes. Then he was gone, sweeping off down the hall without a word of acknowledgement. Quistis rushed after him. Gladio waited until he no longer heard the clicking of her high heels before he spoke.

“What was that all about?”

Ignis began fussing with the papers on his desk. “Dr. Trepe was introducing the newest addition to our department.”

“Who you just happen to already know.”

“Is that so odd? You and I often cross paths with royalty in our line of work.”

“Uh-huh.” Gladio approached the desk, leaning over and splaying both hands across the surface. “So, you gonna tell me how you two actually know each other?”

“I don’t see that it’s any concern of yours,” Ignis replied, voice unusually clipped. Gladio ignored the sting.

“I’m just curious - y’know, as a dear friend and colleague. Why so defensive?”

Ignis slammed down a folder, nostrils flaring. “Fine. Spring 752. I did a semester in Tenebrae. Prince Ravus was a student at the university. We made acquaintance.”

“And?”

“And what?”

Gladio shrugged. “Dunno. Just thought I sensed some hostility between you two.”

“Enough, Gladio!”

The outburst stunned them both. Gladio took a step back. He ran a hand through his hair, trying fiercely not to look as hurt as he felt. After a long moment of silence, Ignis heaved a sigh.

“Forgive me, Gladio. It’s just a rather...unpleasant story, if I’m being honest. I wasn’t expecting to meet him like this, and...I’d rather not talk about it all just yet.”

Gladio chuckled harshly. “Why are you apologizing? I’m the one being the asshole here. Sticking my nose in your business. But if you ever do feel like talking about it, or there’s any way I can help...just let me know.”

“Thank you, Gladio,” he said softly, and the smile he turned on him was so full of warmth and relief that it hurt to look at.

Gladio hurried to change the subject.

“You sure you’re good to go to this reception thing? Ravus will probably be there, too.”

“I’ll be fine. I merely need a moment to compose myself. I do apologize I won’t be able to join you at the gym today. I was quite looking forward to showing off my new gains.”

He wiggled his eyebrows. Gladio snorted.

“Save it for next time, hot shot. But seriously, Iggy - the roads are supposed to get pretty bad tonight. Call me if you need a ride.”

“Certainly; I’m sure Dr. Trepe would just love it if you popped by.”

“Iggy.”

“Don’t worry; I promise I’ll behave myself.”

“You better. Don’t wanna go setting a bed example for Noct.”

Ignis’s smile fell. Gladio rolled his eyes, reaching for the half-eaten pastry on the desk.

“Talk to ‘im,” he said through a mouthful of scone. “Better yet, feed him and then talk. He’s always in a better mood when his stomach’s full.”

“Oh Gladio.” Ignis shook his head. “If only I could be as certain as you are.”

‘But I’m not certain,’ Gladio thought to himself. The uncertainty followed him as he took his leave, wandering through the empty halls of the department alone. Noct could be stubborn, and Ignis had a tendency to cave in. Hopefully they'd be able to come to terms without too much of a fuss.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didnt see the figure rounding the corner, hurtling straight at him. He barely managed to come to a stop before they collided.

“Whoa there!” he exclaimed, stumbling backward. “My bad, are you - ?”

The charity in his voice withered and died as he looked up into the face of the passerby.

Ravus Nox Fleuret.

“Ahem. Pardon me, your majesty.” He stepped aside, the polite gesture a reflex after so many years as a retainer. Ravus, however, stood quite still, eyes fixed on Gladio intently - almost as if he were measuring him up.

Gladio’s jaw clenched.

“There a problem, highness?”

Ravus looked away, making a soft, dismissive noise in the back of his throat. He strode past Gladio with his nose held high, sharp footsteps echoing off the walls like a hailstorm. Gladio’s eyes narrowed, gaze following him over his shoulder. The uneasy feeling was back, creeping up from the pit of his stomach like clutching vines.

Whatever history Ravus and Iggy had together, Gladio had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn’t the good kind.

He tore himself away with a sigh.

“Forget about it,” he muttered firmly. “Iggy can handle himself. It’s not like you have any say in the matter, anyway.”

Still, it was a good thing he kept a spare set of clothes locked up at the campus rec facility. He was gonna need an extra challenging workout today.

TBC...

#gladnis #promptis #prompto argentum #noctis lucis caelum #ffx #gladiolus amicitia #ignis stupeo scientia #fanfic

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calucadu · 5 years

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Love Bites - Chapter 1

Love Bites, a Boku no Hero Academia/My Hero Academia Fanfic. Chapter 1 - Desire to bite.

Summary: In which Bakugou “does Midoriya a favour” and bites his neck, claiming him to be his mate for life. But this is still a Kiribaku/Bakushima fic. Omegaverse.

Pairings: Bakugou/Kirishima, Bakugou/Midoriya

Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Kirishima Eijirou, Midoriya Izuku, Sero Hanta, Mina Ashido, Kaminari Denki

Rating: Explicit

First chapter // Next chapter

Help me decide!

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Or read below the cut

It had been two years since Katsuki had claimed Deku. The omega had gotten better. So much better that Bakugou was almost regretting having ever bitten him. The little shit had not only been accepted into UA, but he was also in his class. He wore a collar, specially designed to make sure no alpha claimed him, even if he’d already been claimed by the best alpha there was.

Izuku was strangely screwed up for life. He’d have to live with the fact that no other alpha could touch him if it wasn’t Bakugou, but if Katsuki hadn’t done what he’d done when he’d done it, Midoriya wouldn’t have been able to get into UA, to follow his dream. So, even if he couldn’t mate with another alpha, and even if his love life was now totally ruined for everyone else, Deku owed everything to Bakugou. And Katuski loved it.

Luckily, Midoriya took his medicine diligently and Bakugou never felt the pull of his heat call him in. He was sure he’d make himself physically sick if he were to ever touch that omega in any type of sexual context.

He’d always been a strange alpha when it came to omegas. All his life, Katsuki had felt that omegas wouldn’t do anything to him. He’d never been interested in them, and rarely felt the attraction caused by their pheromones. That’s until he met a certain redheaded someone. Bakugou didn’t want to admit it but he felt things when Kirishima was around.

And it seemed like it was mutual for the omega. Which made everything very easy. Katsuki started slow. He scented the other and was even bold enough to mark him with his own scent in front of his friends. Eijirou had almost lost it and had reacted extremely well to the touches, his excitement showing in his trousers as he gasped, moaning about how Bakugou was really manly.

And Kirishima wasn’t even a normal omega, which definitely pleased Bakugou. He was strong and determined, like he’d been made for him. He respected Katsuki but took no shit from him, which was incredibly admirable.

It was more complicated than a simple crush, the blond noted. It was more of needing him around to feel safe, to feel well. The scent Kirishima radiated made him feel better, soothed his troubled soul and his wrinkled brow. And he was sure he had a similar effect on the omega.

It turned out it wasn’t as easy as Bakugou had anticipated. Mainly because he was prideful and didn’t know how to deal with his feelings or use words to express things he thought were obvious. But Kirishima was still always by his side, even when they didn’t go past slight teasing and rubbing their scent over the other. It was still a good way to claim him, Katsuki tried to reason with himself.

And then he’d gone and got himself kidnapped, and when he was close to losing hope, Eijirou’s hand was in the sky, waiting only for the perfect grip that would match his. Bakugou didn’t want to admit he’d been saved, but he had. And thanks to that incident, things got a little weird. They held hands now, and it wasn’t strange at all for them to go places together, their hands intertwined.

Sero, a measly beta, was the first one to get tired of it out of the Bakusquad, which come as a surprise to Katsuki. He was sure the first one to voice his awkwardness would have been Pikachu, given the amount of glares he sent their way every day.

“Well, are you official or not?” Plain Face whined after watching them go hand in hand to the cafeteria.

Baugou just answered with a low growl, which was a warning to stay away from the subject.

“I wanna know too!” Mina shrieked, shoving herself in between Katsuki and Kirishima, breaking their hands apart. She was an alpha, too, which obviously didn’t sit well with the explosive blond. She was far too close to something that wasn’t technically his but had been made to be, sooner or later.

Eijirou blushed, almost the colour of his hair. Bakugou didn’t fail to notice how his lips quivered as he tried to come up with an answer. His stupid heart was pounding with emotions he was better off without, thank you very much.

“I don’t know, Bakugou, are we?” Kirishima almost whispered, his voice low. The blond frowned, his eyes narrowing. Was this some sort of game? A test? Was he supposed to just say they were? Maybe it was an alpha thirst that the omega had and he had to prove it. But he honestly didn’t know what to do.

“Whatever.” He growled, as if that was answer enough, and he left, hoping no one had noticed the panic in his voice.

A few steps ahead he was met with Eijirou’s hand in his and they shared a warm look that could only mean one thing.

It had happened by accident. They were studying in Bakugou’s room and Kirishima was squirming around in his chair, looking uncomfortable. His smell was stronger than usual and Katsuki couldn’t help himself, having caught himself leaning in towards the omega, getting closer to his neck than he should be.

Dangerous.

But good.

So good.

Eijirou moved suddenly. Like a twitch. And with the sudden spasm of his body, he let out a moan. One that resonated inside of the alpha, snapping him away from reality. His senses sharpened immediately and he could tell the other boy was hard and leaking.

Was this the effect Bakugou had on Kirishima? Or was the omega simply close to his heat? It didn’t matter, Katsuki had to do something, anything, to get him out of those clothes and into his bed.

A closer look at the redhead disclosed that he was panting, his breathing troubled, his mouth open to facilitate the intake of air. His face was nearly the colour of his hair and he was emanating such a sweet smell and a lot of warmth.

The image alone was enough to push the blonde over the edge, and, resting his hands on either side of the other’s cheeks, he dove into a kiss.

As their lips crashed together, he felt something he’d never felt before. Sure, he hadn’t kissed anyone before, but he was sure this wasn’t just a regular kiss. He was sure this went beyond, that this topped everything. The omega’s mouth fitted so perfectly into his he was sure he’d been created surely to make him happy. His sharp teeth prodded at his lips and Bakugou let out a moan before opening his entrance and letting Kirishima’s tongue inside of him.

It hadn’t crossed Katsuki’s mind that not only was Eijirou going along with it, but he was also very keen, initiating the movements himself.

Fuck, he’d found the perfect omega.

He didn’t need one of those wishy-washy, submissive little shits. He didn’t want that. He wanted a strong partner, strong in mind and in will, capable of doing things for themselves, not afraid of going against Bakugou if they had to.

And Kirishima was the one.

He’d gone as far as to save him, what more proof did he need to know this omega was his soul mate.

His fated pair.

Katsuki just had to sink his teeth in and make sure the rest of the world knew that this one was his.

The redhead was not afraid of him, unlike everyone else. He wasn’t afraid of telling Bakugou what he was doing wrong or telling him what he wanted. And Katsuki really admired that. He pretended he hated it, but it sat well with him on a level he couldn’t understand.

The fact that he’d found an omega to match him made him feel different.

Special.

And they were sharing such an intimate kiss that he was melting into his cute omega. He couldn’t let him go, not now, not ever.

The tongue in his mouth grew bolder and Bakugou felt hands on his shoulders, wrapping around his neck and pulling him closer.

He had initiative and was willing to do things to get what he wanted. And right now it seemed that what Kirishima wanted was Katuski. And the blond would kill to give him everything he desired.

He led him to his bed and gently pulled him onto it, not wasting time on pressing himself against him.

Finally they’d gotten somewhere, and it was Heaven. The omega beneath him was panting and moaning, his little touches were like fire, but in a good kind of way. In a way he now knew he couldn’t live without.

His kisses were dangerous but good. His sharp teeth posed a threat he was all too glad to assume and he let Kirishima nibble on his sensitive lips, maybe even let him draw blood. In all honesty it felt too good to stop, the heat increasing between them.

Bakugou felt the omega rut against him, his clothed cock hungrily searching for pleasure, blindly following instincts. Oh god. The blond almost felt his brain melt. It was all nearly too much. The smell the other was emanating, which he was rubbing all over the alpha, to make sure other omegas knew who this one belonged to, plus his sharp teeth marking his skin, leaving bite marks and blood as his lips travelled Katsuki’s neck were all making the blond feel elated, like never before.

It was time the alpha took over and he pressed his mouth against the redhead’s neck, forcing the other to throw his head back, gasps and moans spilling out of his cute lips, his whole body thrashing with the urge to keep Bakugou’s head pressed against him. He acted on the impulse, burying his hands in blond hair, hardening them slightly as he pressed on the locks, forcing them down. The male hissed at the feeling, but was secretly loving it.

And all the while they’d been playing this pseudo dominating game, their cocks had been rubbing tightly against each other, their trousers interfering with their pleasure, the smell leaking from Kirishima’s tip enough to make Katsuki’s head spin. He smelt so good, so edible, so fuckable. Which was exactly what the blond was planning. He wanted to dig his fingers up the other’s arse and leave them there, make sure everyone knew he was not available to mate anyone else. Because he was Bakugou Katsuki’s precious omega and fuck anyone else who decided to lay eyes on him.

Maybe he should do something about it.

Maybe he should claim what was rightfully his.

He licked the neck, covering as much skin in saliva as he could, trying to assess where the bite mark would look better. He wanted somewhere visible, and maybe he’d bite more than once, make sure the message was well received by everyone who glanced at Kirishima’s neck. Bakugou Katsuki’s. Don’t touch. Don’t look. Leaving a lot of angry red marks would definitely make everyone know who the alpha behind the damage was.

And Kirishima could leave one on his skin as well. Those scary shark teeth of his would definitely be good at marking, at showing the world that he had his mate and his choice had been made.

More licking, followed by slowly inhaling the deep, rich scent that was so obviously Kirishima. It was making him roll his eyes back in pleasure, goose bumps appearing all over his body, and small shivers nearly making him loose his concentration.

A new scent filled his nose as he realised that being this close to being mated was making Eijirou wet. The image in his brain made his heart skip a beat. He had such an influence over the omega he could hardly believe it.

Bakugou needed to make sure his realizations were true and he quickly stuffed his hand into the other’s underwear, pulling them down slightly. His fingers started tracing soft, warm skin as they searched for his entrance. Finding the slick hole nearly made Katsuki cum in his pants. With the boxers down he could now properly smell the divine liquid oozing out of the omega and it was making him want to knot him very, very badly.

The boy underneath him was obviously enjoying himself as the blond toyed with his entrance. He was slowly rubbing a finger over the ring of muscle and that was enough to make Kirishima groan and moan.

It made Bakugou want to bite him.

Claim him.

Take him.

Make him his.

No one else could hear him like this.

No one could see him like this.

No one should smell him.

He had to be his.

His.

Forever.

Katsuki’s mouth was back on his neck and his teeth pressed lightly against the skin, applying mock bites as he stuck a finger into Kirishima.

A long whine came from the redhead, which made the alpha want to claim him with more force. He’d never felt this before, never understood all the things he’d been told about normal alpha behaviour, but it all suddenly made sense.

This omega had to be his. He had to make him his or he would regret it eternally. He opened his mouth wider, preparing himself for the claiming bite as he stuffed his finger in to the second knuckle.

“Uh… I don’t know if you should bite me, Bakugou.” Kirishima panted underneath him. The blond had been so engrossed in his fantasy that the voice of the other shook him slightly, but wasn’t enough to ease him out of his dream-like state.

“Hmmmmnn, why not?” He hummed, barely noticing what was said between them.

“I mean, I really like you, but I think it’s kinda early and it’s a big deal and…”

“S’not a big deal, though.” Katsuki was pressing his tongue against the redhead’s jawline, moving his finger in deeper into the omega’s arse, which forced a loud moan from the other.

“What do you mean, it’s not a big deal, it’s forever, you know!?” The blond could feel Kirishima’s discomfort in between his pants and groans. He could tell he was uneasy and something inside of him warned him to calm him down. His mind seemed to be somewhere else, however, and he was finding it hard to think. Whatever could he say to make it better?

“I’ve done it before, it’s easy.” He managed to say, opening his mouth wide and pressing his teeth against soft skin, gleaming thanks to the amount of saliva he’d added. He couldn’t continue what he was about to do since he noticed Eijirou tense underneath him and he registered what he’d said. He pulled out of him, noticing the change in the omega.

“You’ve done it before!?”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Bakugou’s mind raced, hoping there was something he could do to save the moment. He felt hardened hands push him away from the neck he’d been trying to dig his teeth into, and suddenly the situation was more real than before. He’d been brought back down abruptly, and he knew he was in a very delicate situation.

“You’ve bitten an omega, Bakugou? You’ve claimed someone? You are someone’s mate?”

All the things he was saying were true but Katsuki didn’t want to admit them. It wasn’t what it seemed and he had to make it right somehow.

“Yes, but…”

“So you’re someone else’s alpha?”

“Yeah but no, look…”

“There’s another omega? There’s someone fucking else? I knew this couldn’t be true! I knew this was too good for me! I knew something would happen!”

“Can you listen to me?” Bakugou was close to loosing his cool, to boiling over.

“You’ve got a pair!?”

“It was just a bite, Kirishima. It meant nothing!”

“AND YOU WERE GOING TO DO IT TO ME TOO! AND IT WOULD MEAN NOTHING AGAIN!”

“No! It’s not what you think!”

“HOW IS IT NOT WHAT I THINK? YOU MARKED ANOTHER OMEGA. YOU CLAIMED SOMEONE ELSE AND YOU WANTED TO DO THE SAME TO ME!”

“Kirishima, It’s-”

“WHAT? IT’S WHAT? What are you going to say exactly? You bit Midoriya when you were small when you were playing alphas and omegas and you think it meant nothing!? Because news flash for you, Bakugou, that still fucking counts!”

Katsuki stayed quiet, dumbfounded. He’d heard of cases like that, were kids screwed each other over by playing adult and biting other’s necks. It fucked kids over completely. Some entered premature heats, others ended up, strangely enough, infertile for life. They all paired, except if they’d been bitten or had bitten betas, and had had to live with the consequences of their actions.

Kirishima understood what the silence meant completely.

“You…bit… Midoriya. That’s why he’s so… different. You… claimed him… He’s your omega!”

Well, they weren’t lies, but they weren’t truths either, but Bakugou could feel the pain in the redhead’s voice as he spoke.

The blond sighed, getting ready to start telling the story which he was so ashamed about. Yeah, he’d been smug about it up until now, but now, now he just felt bad. He felt like he’d screwed over more than just Midoriya.

He’d screwed himself up.

He’d fucked up whatever he had with Kirishima. And if he wasn’t careful, he’d fuck Kirishima up too.

“I can’t believe you!” Eijirou spat at him, his face contorting in disgust. His eyes were oozing hatred and betrayal and he was shacking as he was trying to get the alpha off of him. Bakugou tried to stop him from doing so but he eventually decided that struggling with him would make matters worse.

So he let the omega push him away and watched as the redhead left his room without even trying to dress himself properly.

How was Katsuki going to get himself out of this one?

It didn’t help that the Bakusquad prevented Bakugou from actually interacting with Kirishima. At least they didn’t seem to know what was going on, but they knew the omega was upset with him.

He’d tried to talk to him in class, but Sero got in his way and smirked at him while pointing at his elbows. Bakugou got the message.

He tried to get close to him at the canteen but Kaminari threatened to electrify his water and while the threat in itself wasn’t a big deal and the beta didn’t frighten him in the slightest, he could see Kirishima watching, and he was not in a position to scare the omega away further. So instead of getting angry he just walked away.

He tried to get into his dorm but Mina opened the door to Eijirou’s room and just shook her head before closing it in his face.

But Bakugou was prepared to fight acid, tape and electricity if it got Kirishima to listen to him.

Kirishima was trembling in his bed. He’d managed to stop the tears from flowing for a day now and his friends had been extremely supportive. None of them knew what was going on, and even if they did, they wouldn’t understand. Betas had it easy, they didn’t have to deal with mated pairs and shit like that. And Mina was an alpha, but the omega couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t immediately back Bakugou up, taking his side.

He wasn’t exactly alone but he felt very lonely. Like no one could understand him. The idea that maybe Midoriya did crossed his mind, but he didn’t want to think about him. Whenever he did he just imagined Katsuki balls deep into another omega, one who was more of an omega than him. One who was soft and warm, and nice and brave, and confident, and smart and everything any alpha would ever want.

It wasn’t just jealousy. It wasn’t just that Bakugou had chosen what nature intended him to choose. There was hurt, since he’d been interested in him. He’d been stringing him along, making him believe he was wanted by alphas. And not just any alpha, but the best in class. But no, he’d been lied to, used. He was mated to an actual, real omega. Not one that was just a miserable mess, not strong enough to even get over his own past.

Fuck, it hurt. Kirishima hadn’t expected rejection to hurt so much. But then again, it wasn’t just rejection. It was self-doubt and jealousy, and a little bit of heart break.

He’d had a crush on Bakugou for so long and now all he could do about it was cry! And he still had so many things he wasn’t sure about. When had Midoriya been claimed? Was it before Katsuki met him?

A small ray of hope opened up for Kirishima. Maybe the blond hadn’t been lying. Maybe he’d regretted pairing up with Izuku. He didn’t seem to like him at all and didn’t even interact with him aside from snarling and looking down at him.

But maybe it was an act.

Maybe they had agreed to keep it like that, to pretend. Or maybe it went beyond that, maybe it was some kind of roleplay that got Bakugou off. Or maybe he was just into hate-sex so he had to claim someone he really despised?

And maybe they’d been fucking for months, every time Midoriya got his heat. None of them were absent during his heats, and Kirishima hated how he hadn’t noticed before. Of course there was a reason Izuku the omega wasn’t suffering during his heat week. Because he’d been claimed. Nature knew he had a partner, and only his alpha would be affected by his pheromones.

Eijirou, instead, along with all the unmated omegas, had to stay in his room every time his heat came. That or it could end up disastrously for them.

Kirishima cursed himself. Cursed his luck. Cursed how oblivious he’d been. Cursed how he still felt that Bakugou was the one for him.

Of course they’d been going too fast. Maybe that was Katsuki’s intention from the beginning. Maybe he was one of those omega hoarders. He needed to claim as many omegas as he could to feel superior. Kirishima was a lot of things, but he wasn’t just an omega that would be used to be claimed uselessly. Maybe Midoriya might have let him do whatever he wanted with him, but he wasn’t about to let Bakugou do as he pleased.

The redhead bit hard, his sharp teeth clenching tightly as new tears fell down his face. A new determination swept him away from his misery and forced him to look ahead, unashamed.

Bakugou could be the biggest shit he wanted to be, but he would never fuck with Kirishima.

The omega hardened his body as he let out a frustrated whine, throwing his head back. These pathetic feelings he had for the disgusting alpha could not last. Would not last.

Eijirou raised his head and decided he loathed Bakugou Katsuki.

#love bites #boku no hero academia #fanfiction #kiribaku #boku no hero fanfiction #my hero academia fanfiction #my hero academia #bakushima #kirishima #bakugou #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #bnha #bnha fanfiction #omegaverse #mha #bnha mha #my writing

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1apple-fox1 · 6 years

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This is a thing 1/idfk dude

posting it on fanfiction.net didnt go over well cause i got too scared and i d ont really w ant critiques i guess c ause i already really really hate the way i write and would love not to feel any shittier so uh-

this is for Monster!Minato/Makoto I have him named Makoto in this one so i can tell the two apart better- this is basically the intro i guess and uhhhh- enjoy??

also i dont have ao3 sorry if its hard to read....

"Iwatodai, Iwatodai," the not so enthusiastic voice sang on the train speakers. Makoto sighed- after what felt like forever he was here... Again. His brows knitted together into an expression of annoyance, or maybe even slight anger? Sometimes even he had problems thinking what emotion he could possibly be experiencing. But he knew, he wished he could have been anywhere but here.

After walking out into the open walk way he stopped. It was rather dead now that he was paying attention. He pulled out his phone. 11:59 PM... It was almost time for...

Just as he thought about it the time changed to 12:00 AM, only for everything to suddenly stop. The world gained a sickly green hue, and everyone around him had ceased to move, transmogrifying into coffins. Another night, another dark hour... With a solemn sigh he pushed onwards, the sights, the blood, the everything- this wasn’t new to him anymore.

There was a sort of sticky splashing noise as he stepped onto one of the many 'bloody' puddles on the streets, but he didn't really care. Looking up at the building before him, it was... smaller than he thought it would be. He thought to himself, looking over his hastily made map one last time. "This is it." He spoke aloud, almost as if trying to convince himself this was indeed the dorm he was assigned. With one last breath he pushed the door open to be met with...

A girl?

The auburn haired girl hummed as she finished signing a sheet of paper and closing the book. She looked around in her small bag, placing the pen back as she finally noticed the new guest. "Oh!" She seemed rather surprised by his sudden appearance. "Man, I didn't even hear you there, that's some major sneaking talent you got there!"

Makoto wore a dumbfounded expression before responding with a quick "Sorry I guess," shrugging the whole ordeal off, and in the process sounding as un-genuine as he could while apologizing. He eyed the place the paper was, only to see that whatever the girl has signed had disappeared now too. "Anyways I guess that means this is a unisex dorm, pretty cool huh?"

"Uh-"

"Who's there!?"

The third voice yelled, with obvious panic laced throughout her words. While the dark hour was known for being dark, Makoto always found it pretty easy to see, and by the stairs indeed there was a third figure, wearing some sort of pink uniform top. "Don't tell me, you're-!" Without even a warning the girl pulled out a gun.

"W-wait hold on a minute!" The auburn haired one spoke up, now even she was panicking. "We're students! ordinary students and-"

"Takeba wait-!"

A fourth voice now, called from the stairs. Just as she had interrupted the lights, the TV, his headphones. Everything came on again- everything was back to normal.

Meanwhile the situation’s tension lessened. The red head explained who they were.

"Oh um..." The pink clad girl almost seemed embarrassed now. "Well my name's Yukari Takeba. Sorry for uh-"

"So why do you have a gun?" The auburn hair girl interjected, Yukari seemed taken aback by the sudden comment.

"Well um, it's- sorta like a hobby of mine-"

"A hobby?" Makoto finally spoke, there was something odd about calling a gun a 'hobby' of all things.

Yukari looked like she had just been cornered by some wild animal when she heard him ask the question. "I-It's um-"

"For protection," The red head chimed in. "You can never be too careful in times like these."

He nodded. Despite his questioning before, Makoto had all but run out of caring for this situation.

"Fine, I buy it-" The auburn haired girl spoke. She wore a cheeky grin, and despite how big it was it was hard to tell what exactly she was thinking. "Well, Yukari and..." She gestured to the red head, while she finally reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Oh-" It took her a bit to understand why the younger girl had stopped. "Mitsuru Kirijo- a third year- And you, if I remember correctly by your file, are-"

"Hey, hey! You can't just take away my introduction like that!" The auburn hair girl interjected in a childish manor."I'm Kotone Shiomi, second year, and new to this area!"

"Oh hey, uh- me too-" Yukari spoke up, and when she did it was almost an instant match in friendship heaven. The next thing he knew the two girls were hoping to be in the same class as they both walked to- what he assumed- was their rooms.

It was just him and Mitsuru now. With a cough to draw in his attention Mitsuru started again. "And you are Makoto Yuki, correct?"

He nodded. Whether he meant to or not though his posture and lack of an audible response made him come across as rude to the senior, though she didn't dare say anything. "Come, I'll show you to your room."

Without a word he followed Mitsuru up the stairs and down the hall in silence, the tapping of shoes on the carpet was the only audible noise. But even that came to a stop as they reached the end of the hallway. "Floor one, last door on the right shall be your room." She forced a pair of keys into his hand. "While I do have extras try not to lose those keys, I wouldn't want to be seen as unreliable."

Unreliable?

Without another word Mitsuru walked back down the stairs- she must have something else to do still...

With a click and a turn of the door knob he opened his room. The first thought that came to his head was "Bland" and really that was an understatement, aside from the essentials like a bed, and a desk there was barely anything in the room. Not even his boxes filled much space. Makoto sighed, shutting the door behind him. With a quick change he hopped into bed- and tried his best to sleep.

___________________________

The clacking of the train wheels were audible over Makoto’s blaring music. He sighed trying to turn the volume up- even though he already knew he had it at max.

Yukari was talking to both him and Kotone, but of course he couldn't hear a word she was saying over his own music. Makoto saw them both looking at something through the window and without realizing, he felt his own gaze shift to the window.

A tall white building sat on the horizon, almost blinding him as the sun reflected off it. It stung his eyes, letting out a wince he couldnt help but start rubbing at his eye, like doing so would relieve the pain. Of course it didn't.

“...”

“... Hey-”

“Hey!”

Kotone practically screamed in his ear after removing his headphones. But his expression remained pretty neutral even as Kotone stared at him, wearing a pouty expression. What was a surprise to him was when the girl removed his headphones. (He could have sworn he heard a giggle come from Yukari.) “You know both of us are trying to speak with you you know? It’s not nice to ignore a girl like that!”

“I don’t really care-”

“Don’t really-! Yukari’s being nice enough to show us around and you don’t care!?” It was obvious the girl was mad with him, her pouty almost playful face had turned into a full on scowl.

“Hey Kotone- it’s fine he’s taken them off so-”

“So what? He’s still a jerk- and I just realized I don’t even know this jerks name!”

Yukari was practically clinging onto Kotone at this point. “Just drop it ok? We’re almost there anyway-” She pleaded with the headstrong girl. And indeed she was right- the train screeching to a halt, announcing their stop clearly. But Kotone still glared at the boy.

“Don’t think this is over punk-!”

And with that she ran for the exit with Yukari close behind.

He suppose he should get off as well… Makoto took his sweet time departing the train. He tried to stay away from Kotone as much as possible, not to be kind or even out of fear of being yelled at, but because he knew he had pissed her off. Staying away for now would be for the best… Probably… People were hard to read…

_______________________________________________________________

The school was like a confusing maze to him, when he thought he was headed the right way to the office he’d find himself in a courtyard, he briefly wondered if maybe finding a teacher to tell them ‘hey I’m the new student’ would be too much of a hassle.

After asking around he had finally found it, sliding open the door to the faculty office he was greeted by-

Of course, of course she was here too, it was her first day too wasn’t it? She scowled at him as she left, no Yukari in sight… Huh, odd. Then again their friendship was new.

“Ah, then you must be the other transfer student-” A woman sang from the back as she looked over sheets of paper she had laid out on her clipboard. “Makoto Yuki yes?”

He nodded.

“You’re in… Class F, that’s my class- oh yes I’m miss Toriumi. I look forward to having you in my home room!” She extended her hand for a handshake. The boy took it reluctantly. She quickly went back to the notes, skimming a page or two. “You’ve sure moved around a lot, more than I expected from only a second year but-” She looked back at the notes one last time. “Let’s see… In 1999. That was- what ten years ago? Your parents-” She cut herself off with a gasp.

This always happened- no matter where he went people brought this up, and even though his face stayed rather stoic, Makoto felt an odd mix of emotions.

Sadness.

Anger.

Regret.

He felt himself straining to keep his usual composure, hearing it never got easier…

“I’m- I’m so sorry, I’ve been so busy I didn’t have time to read this before hand.”

“Can you just, take me to my homeroom now?” His straightforward answer seemed to throw his new homeroom teacher for a loop, she wore an expression of annoyance before immediately softening up.

“Of course, sorry for my earlier blunder.” She spoke and headed toward the door, Makoto following close behind.

________________________________________________________________

When he entered the classroom went silent. “Good morning class!” Toriumi called. “I have two new transfer students to introduce today-” She gestured to someone in the corner, when Kotone stepped up with a peppy step Makoto’s suspicions were confirmed. “Now go on and introduce yourselves-”

Without a second of delay Kotone blurted out a happy go lucky “Hi! My name’s Kotone Shiomi- I Like cute things and the color orange!” Every boy in the class seemed enamoured, while Makoto just sighed like he’d had enough of this already.

“Ah right, you may take a seat near… Ah! The empty desk behind Yukari there-!”

“You got it teach!” And she skipped off and took her seat, she was probably happy to be sitting beside someone she knew.

“And now it’s your turn.”

“Makoto Yuki. Nice to meet you.” That was it, that’s all he said. The ‘nice to meet you’ tacked on to avoid being yelled at by the teacher. He didn’t even wait for the employee to recommend a seat, simply sitting down on the closest one available… Which happened to be… The one beside her.

Kotone was glaring daggers, and if looks could kill he would definitely be dead by now. No matter how hard he tried to ignore it, it was like some chill that ran up his spine and kept him aware. Man she really hated him didn’t she? For some reason he couldn’t bring himself to care all that much, but the thought about dealing with this every day, at the dorm and at school… Well, it gave him more motivation to at least try and fix things.

________________________________________________________________

The final school bell rung and the teacher dismissed herself and her students, Kotone looked about ready to dash out the door. If he wanted things to get better he’d have to do them now.

“Hey Ko-”

“Sup!” A tall lanky boy greeted from the side. Makoto couldn’t help but be drawn to the sports cap on his head. “So you two’re the new transfer students right? Nice to meet you! The names Junpei Iori!” He wore a friendly grin. “I transferred here while in 8th grade so, I kinda know what you two’re goin’ through… And I thought I’d help you out you know?”

“You sure you’re not just trying to hit on the new girl Iori?” Yukari chimed in before the capped teen could finish what he was saying.

“Yuka-tan!”

The two bickered and Kotone seemed to really be enjoying the energy this kid brought. Makoto though… He felt almost like he was watching from outside his own body, the talking and everything- he wasn’t used to this. Was he being overwhelmed? Or was it because of something else? He knew he couldn’t just leave, he hadn’t even apologize to her yet what was he-

“Hey you OK?” Someone asked him, it was one of the girls but he was so disoriented he couldn’t tell who.

“I…” He began, blinking a couple of times, looking at Yukari’s concerned face, and then Kotone’s. “I’m fine.”He breathed in. “I uh,” He didn’t really think apologizing in front of Iori was the best way to go about this. “I actually have something I’d like to tell Kotone-” He should have sounded more excited but he found himself speaking in that flat tone he always did. “So-”

“Ah I get ya man! You wanna make the move as quick as possible!”

“Junpei!” While the two bickered and complained Yukari still managed to drag Iori out of the room, leaving just him and Kotone.

“So- what’d you wanna say to me?” While there was still a hint of aggression in her voice, after the weird zone out he had earlier she couldn’t help but be a little concerned. She hoped Junpei was wrong and this wasn’t about to be some love confession.

“So- I noticed you’re upset with me-”

“No-! Me?? Upset?” She said sarcastically, Makoto ignored it.

“I have a problem with being… Blunt? I guess you could say?” This was hard, being honest and talking with others was way too hard. “I know I sounded like I didn’t care and that upset you. So I wanted to apologize.” He was trying his best to sound sincere- he was so used to using the same uncaring monotone voice that he knew he probably sounded like he was trying too hard. There was no reply from the girl, at least not at first- he wondered if he had made the situation worse for a second.

The more he looked the more he was confused, she looked as if she was staring at something, but there was nothing where she was staring. And a few blinks and a second later she seemed to snap out of it with a surprised “Oh-!”

“It’s OK! After a while I could tell you’re not really a people person- you prefer to be alone right?”

“Most days- yeah.”

“No problem then!” She wore a genuine smile- Makoto thought this was too easy. That’s all it took? There had to be more… Right? “I should have taken the hint when you had those headphones on I guess- But still Yukari went through all the trouble so it was kinda rude-”

Makoto shrugged, letting out a “My bad.” in response. Kotone wore the same smile,but it was obvious she was thinking of something in that head of hers.

“We should probably get goin’, I hope Yukari isn’t still waiting for us.”

Us?

Before Makoto could register anything else Kotone had grabbed his hand and started dragging him along…

________________________________________________________________

The smell of coffee filled his nose and he couldn’t help but grimace. Coffee was never a welcoming smell to him, infact he barely touched the stuff but as he looked to Kotone, who wore a smile that was some how endearing and threatening all at the same time- Makoto thought it best to stay quiet for the time being.

“So-” Kotone started, immediately causing him to tense up. “What’s up?”

“What’s…. Up?” he seemed quite confused at this point, this girl had hated his guts before, then suddenly he was being dragged to a cafe at a mall and being asked something as casual as ‘what’s up’ Like they had been friends for years… Then again…

“Well um…” she started, looking off to the side, as if looking for the right words to say. “We- got off on the wrong foot this morning- or- more like I did.” she paused to take a sip of her coffee. “To be honest when you were ignoring us I thought maybe you were just being an ass hole for no reason- but uh- whatever happened in the class room…” Kotone twirled her hair in between her fingers, focusing intently on how she was about to word her thoughts. “... Makes me think it might be something more than ‘because I’m an asshole’- and whatever that is um, well you don’t have to share but if you need support just ask me OK?”

“Ah…” This seemed odd- for someone to go from hating his guts, to buddy buddy. Something had to be up… Right?

Kotone kept on a convincing smile, but she felt the uncomfortable silence that hung in the air. Makoto took it as a sign to leave, getting up from his chair without a word, but at least waving good bye- last thing he wanted to do was get on her bad side again. Before exiting the cafe he took one more glance, she seemed to be muttering something to herself, odd- but really none of his business. He shrugged and continued on.

________________________________________________________________

#its um #its long sorry #persona 3 #persona 3 au #monster!minato #minato arisato #makoto yuki #kotone shiomi #hamuko arisato #minako arisato #yukari takeba #junpei iori #mitsuru kirijo #and others #ah hahaha im super nervous...#idk the ship name for minaham i just call it minaham #minaham #they are not related in this au i would not ship it otherwise #my post

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widowtracer-week · 6 years

Text

Gift for Overlookingtheworld

secret santa for @overlookingtheworld (hey ! i really really hope you’ll like it, i tried to follow your wishlist the best i could, so i hope it didnt get too explicit. anyway, i hope that you enjoy it and that you’ll spend a beautiful christmas eve/day, also i’m sorry if there are any mistakes english isnt my first language. merry christmas !)

Her feet were barely touching the ground as she zipped through the night, panting, leaving nothing but a blue trail behind her. Blood was dripping down her chin, she brushed the back of her hand against her cheek as she turned around, making sure he wasn’t following her. “Fuck”, she tripped, landing on the thick layer of snow covering the streets in this cold December night.

She knew she should’ve stayed home, she knew it, and still. Somehow she’d thought it was a good idea. After all, it was Christmas Eve, they wouldn’t expect her there. She’d planned everything : all she had to do is to find a way into Talon’s lair, sneak into Sombra’s quarters and look for any kind of information she could gather without alerting the hacker. Well, the last part was probably the trickiest one but she figured since they wouldn’t be here anyway, it would give her some time to find a way to get at least something. And maybe she could even take a look at their quarters, that’d be enough information already. All she had to do was to be careful, and avoid their cameras and sensors, but she already had an idea of their whereabouts, so she wasn’t that worried about getting caught. Plus, it’s not like she had better stuff to do tonight.

She loved everything about Christmas : the pine tree filling the living room with its very distinct smell, the lights and baubles hanging down its branches, the whole town being slowly covered in snow, the music, the food, everything. But mostly, she loved how it could bring so many people together. As if life had been paused. And god knew she needed it, more than anyone else - breakdown after breakdown, she felt like nothing could prevent her from falling apart once again, if it wasn’t for Christmas. They had everything planned out, they’d spend the evening together at their quarters, Angela and Fareeha would cook for them, and she’d decorate the tree with Hana and Lucio. Then they’d sit in the living room and open their presents, celebrate together, enjoy this one night where they could simply rest, without having to worry about tomorrow.

And maybe she could even sneak out for a moment, just to meet with her. Nobody would notice. They’d have just this moment together.

She didnt ask for much, and still, even this one night she couldnt have.

Talon attacked their headquarters a few days ago, and they werent ready to withstand another push. They didnt last long, and although Talon didnt manage to pass through their forces, they managed to damage them deeply enough for them to draw back. Many had been injured and, obviously, Christmas Eve had been cancelled, most of them needing more than a few days of rest to get back on feet.

Yet, Lena hadn’t been touched a single time. How come ? Just to think about it made her hate herself even more, and that was probably the reason why she decided to invade Talon’s lair, all on her own, on December 24th. That day, something had kept her from fighting alongside her friends, and that something was the reason why they lost.

Her hands were buried in the snow, she was sitting there, on the ground, staring at the bloody stains she left after falling. All she could see was a pair of eyes, golden, piercing through the night, through her mind, she shook her head. She couldnt let her distract her again.

Sneaking into their headquarters wasnt easy, but it wasn’t something Lena “Tracer” Oxton couldn’t do. Once she had found her way into what seemed to be Sombra’s quarters, she’d started looking around for whatever she could find that’d help her and her friends put an end to Talon, once and for all. Obviously, she didnt find anything, which she should’ve expected, knowing the hacker. It was hard for her to admit that the sole reason of her presence here tonight was the fact that she felt guilty for what happened to her team, and she somehow thought that coming to this place and trying to take down the whole Talon organization on her own would be a good idea, and maybe it would work.

But god knows it was the stupidest idea she’d ever had.

She realized that the moment she heard his voice. “You’re gonna regret this.” She turned around, seeing nothing but a tall shadow standing in the doorway, and before the thought of running away hit her mind, he pulled his shotguns out and shot her in the shoulder.

And thats how she ended up here, lying on the cold ground, panting, tears slowly streaming down her face as she was trying to recollect herself. She never should’ve gone there on her own, she didnt even know what she was expecting from this. When her friends will learn what she tried to do tonight, they’ll most definitely be the ones to kill her, if Gabriel didn’t already finish the job until then. Thats why she stood up, stumbling around for a second before she started to run again, until she got a sight of the right building, which made her let out a relieved sigh. She slowed down, knowing he wouldn’t have followed her that far anyway, and she entered the building, climbing the stairs until she got to the 6th floor. Lena opened the door, a mixture of sweat, blood and melted snow dripping down her face as she entered her apartment. She took a second to close the door, locking it, before she let herself fall against the dark wood, slowly gliding to the ground, grunting from the pain.

“Qu’est ce que-…”

Lena jumped, flicking her head in the direction of the voice. She was there. Standing in front of the patio door, her long, dark hair framing the face she was so scared to see again. She was used to those golden eyes, piercing through her every single time she looked at her - this time, it was different. There was nothing piercing to her gaze, actually, it almost showed something like… concern.

“Chérie what happened to you ?” It looked like she didnt dare to move.

“Fuck off… I dont want you here.” she mumbled, lowering her glance, knowing that those golden eyes would make her change her mind if they just as much as stared at her the right way. Silence filled the room, heavy on her shoulders.

“Those are some very rude words coming out of such a sweet mouth.” She barely heard her approaching, Amélie was just like a cat ; she moved gracefully, her footsteps were light on the wooden ground, her tall silhouette was ripping through the banality of her corridor.

“Please, just- just get out, alright ? I’m not in the mood to play.” she sighed, grimacing as she tried to stand up. She could feel her heart race both in her chest and her open shoulder, it almost hurt, and she could feel how the world around her started to get dizzy.

“Je ne suis pas là pour jouer ce soir, chérie” she heard, before her vision started to become blurry, her eyes slowly shutting down, and her head hitting the door once again. The last thing she saw was the silhouette she loved so much growing closer to her, kneeling down next to her bruised self, and only her eyes were glowing that night.

////////

Amélie and her had this little… game, they loved to play. Nobody knew about it, and nobody would ever know about it, for it was their little secret. Something they shared for quite a while now, and although it was so wrong for them to do that, it was one of the very few moments were everything just… felt right. Talon’s elite sniper was also Talon’s eyes, going from town to town, watching them, following them, when they think nothing can get to them. She spent enough time watching every Overwatch agent, one after the other, through their every day life, and mostly, following them to their places, taking notes of everything that could be important and help them to bring this sickening organization down, once and for all. She did it with Angela, Lucio, Hana, 76, even Reinhardt (it was probably one of the most boring moments in her life, the old man just sat down on his couch and watched those stupid games only elderly people watched on their TV, and most of the time he’d just fall asleep during the first ad break). Then, she started watching Lena. Something about her pattern intrigued the french agent, every day was different, unlike everyone else, she couldnt put a finger on her habits, for she didnt have any. At least, that was what she thought. In reality, Lena had noticed from the very beginning that she was being watched, and used the Widow’s confidence to get around her and find her hiding spots. Until one day, where she confronted her. They fought, and fought, and fought, yet, bullets barely touched their moving bodies, as if they were dancing past each other. And then, it became an habit. Their meetings, their fights. Somehow, both of them needed that, as if they were enjoying every second of it, which they were. None of them knew exactly what brought them together, maybe they were just clinging onto old memories, maybe they were trying to forget them, but still, they met, every other night, on that same roof top, and fought. Some people get to know each other over some coffee, and them ? They fought, danced through the night, and left each other with the biggest smile spread onto their faces. One day, though, a too-well placed shot hit Lena right in the leg, leaving her vulnerable to the enemy sniper. She knew it was just a matter of time before she’d take advantage of the situation to get rid of one of Overwatch’s most efficient troublemaker. After all, the Amélie she once knew was no longer here, replaced by this emotionless silhouette she couldn’t help but admire. Her cold gaze was piercing right through her as she saw her raise the murderous weapon, scope in, Lena closed her eyes and thought to herself, maybe she’ll wake up, maybe none of this ever happened and she was still fighting the demons inside her head, pushing her to think that somewhere inside the Widow’s body, there was still a heart. She heard the shot, her ears were buzzing loudly and she collapsed, pain taking over her body, or at least that was what she thought. As she opened her eyes, she saw her come closer, holding out her hand.

To this day she still didnt know why Amélie didnt kill her, why she decided to save her instead, bringing her back to her place and taking care of the wound she had left on her leg. After that, she came by every other day, after midnight, to check on her ; changing her bandaid, bringing her some food, taking care of her, everything the old Amélie would do. Lena did all the talking, trying to find out what she was doing here, why she didnt shoot, what pushed her to do the right thing, but she never got any answer out of the woman, instead, she’d just nod, and say a few words in french Lena didnt manage to grasp. After her condition improved, Amélie’s visits slowly decreased in number, but she still passed by once in a while, just to listen to the girl while she talked about her day. Somehow, with everything that had happened between them, Lena felt like she could trust her. After all, she could’ve killed her that day, and still, she didnt. She wouldnt call it a bond, or maybe she did - there was definitely something odd about them but she figured, as long as it went like this, she‘d enjoy every single moment.

On the battlefield, she usually heard a distinct shot, which wouldn’t touch anybody - instead, it was like a signal, and she took advantage of the mess created by the fight to sneak around the enemy frontlines, to find her way to the snipers spot. Nobody knew about the little game both of them liked to play, they teased each other without giving too much of themselves away, and it was fine like that. It lasted a while, until a few days ago ; they were on their rooftop, again, Lena was sitting on the very edge of the building, staring at the orange sky, and the sun disappearing behind the stone jungle in front of her. Amélie was resting against the wall, behind her. They did this a lot, they didnt talk, they just stared at the sky, and it was already enough. “I’ll never get tired of this, y’know” she whispered. At this exact moment, Overwatch’s headquarters were being attacked by Talon’s members, and Lena wasn’t there to defend it.

It was the last time they saw each other ever since.

////////

“Chérie, tu devrais faire plus attention à toi” was the first thing she heard when she woke up. She felt the soft mattress of her bed under her body, and even softer fingers brushing against her forehead, making her shiver. Her skull still hurt, and so did her shoulder, but she noticed how she couldnt move that well, and felt the bandages on her skin. Frowning, she opened her eyes, meeting with this golden gaze she feared so much. If she didnt know any better, she’d probably think it was concern that shined in her eyes.

“What are you still doing here ? I told you to leave.” she mumbled, trying to sit up but her entire body started to scream at her in pain, and Amélie softly pushed her back into the many pillows displayed on her bed.

“What were you thinking ?” there wasn’t a hint of anger in her voice, instead, it felt like she was genuinely concerned.

“I dont know. I had to do something.” Lena sighed, closing her eyes again, not wanting to get another glance of the Widow’s face.

“No you didn’t. You were just being stupid.” She had always loved the accent she had when she was speaking, it made every word sound much softer, which made her even more dangerous than she already was. But this time, it was different.

“I know what you’re thinking, Lena. You wouldn’t have made a difference, believe me.”

She opened her eyes again, shaken by the sudden anger that filled her mind after those words hit her ears.

“Are you fucking kidding me ?! What is wrong with you ? Of course i would’ve made a difference, we lost because of me !”

Amélie shook her head, leaning back, her hands resting on her lap.

“You are being stupid, ma chérie. Don’t underestimate Talon, they would’ve hurt you if you’d been there. You should thank me.”

Suddenly, silence filled the room. It felt like it lasted an eternity, before she finally gathered the strength to sit up, grimacing from the pain, before she looked her straight in the eyes.

“You knew. You knew, didn’t you ?”

Again, silence. They stared at each other, both of them were waiting for the other to break the silence.

She finally nodded.

“You… Why did you do that ? I… I could’ve been there, i could’ve helped them..!” Slowly the realization hit her, she didnt know if it was the pain, or the fact that she had been tricked by the one person she really trusted, but tears started to stream down her face, dripping down her chin, wetting her sheets.

“It is not what it looks like. You don’t understand.”

Lena shook her head, brushing her hands against her cheeks.

“Then what is it ?! What is it, tell me !”

Another silence.

“TELL ME!”

Amélie stood up, without a word, and left the room, closing the bedroom door behind her.

She couldnt believe it.

“I trusted you !” she tried to shout, but her voice barely filled the room, and she was left there, wondering. How stupid could she be ? Seconds passed, it felt like hours, she stayed there, sitting on her bed, her mind suddenly as empty as her bedroom, she barely reacted when the door opened again. Amélie walked in, holding the door open.

“Please. Just come.”

She knew she shouldn’t follow her, she knew she shouldn’t trust her, but her bruised body still managed to get out of bed, slowly walking forward, using the wall as a support. The tall woman reached out and grabbed her hand, helping her as much as she could, gently holding her so she wouldn’t lose her balance. As she walked into the living room, Lena’s eyes started watering. She didnt recognize her apartment anymore ; next to the tv was a small pine tree, bloody red baubles hanging down its branches, decorated with tinsels and little light bubbles. She could barely hear the soft music in the background, there was a box sitting on the small table in front of the couch, wrapped in a beautiful red paper, snowflakes shining on it. She just stood there, in awe, unable to say anything.

“Come.” she heard, and Amélie pulled on her hand, bringing her to the couch, making her sit down before taking a place next to her. Her cold hands were still wrapped around hers, and she was glancing at her someway she never did before.

“Yes, i knew. I didn’t want you to get hurt so i kept you with me.“

Before she managed to say something, Amélie continued.

“I know this… Christmas party was important to you. I’m sorry.” She knew she wasn’t really sorry about what happened to her friends, after all, they had always been enemies, she probably celebrated their victory later on that day. But still, something about her was so different tonight, she couldn’t help but think that all of this was sincere.

“You have every right to be mad at me. I understand. But keep in mind that i did it to protect you.”

She finally gathered the courage to answer.

“Why would you even do that ?”

Amélie stared at her for what felt like an eternity, before she grew closer to the girl, her grip slightly tightening on her hands as their lips met in what seemed to be the most cruel, and beautiful kiss she could ever dream of. She hated how much she enjoyed it, how every inch of anger had immediately been replaced by nothing but this soothing feeling tightening her chest. Her cheeks were burning as their lips finally parted, she tried to remain calm but her heavy breath betrayed her.

“You can’t do that…” she whispered, but Amélie’s fingers met with her cheeks, brushing softly against her skin before she slowly pulled her back into another kiss, much softer this time. As they parted again, Lena tried to say something but she cut her off.

“S’il te plait. Fais moi confiance.”

She didn’t know what she just said, but she suddenly stopped caring, and as leaned forward to kiss her again, it was almost as if she couldn’t feel the pain in her shoulder anymore, as if she finally found the bandaid she needed.

“Let me make it up to you.” she felt her cold breath against her lips as she spoke, hypnotized, she tried to be mad but she wasn’t, she couldn’t. Instead, she felt how her heart was racing inside her chest, almost as if it was trying to free itself from its ribcage, trying to meet with hers. She nodded, leaning into another kiss, before Amélie pulled back, wearing a very subtle smile.

“Here.”

Lena frowned, reaching for the gift she was handing her, wondering.

“I… I dont know, wh-“

“Just open it.”

She waited a second, hesitating, before carefully ripping the paper off, revealing a simple white box. She opened it, and her eyes started watering again.

“You…”

////////

She remembered it. It was years ago, they were sitting there, at a table inside of Gérard’s little castle, Amélie was looking through some magazines while talking to Lena about french fashion. “We french ladies know how to dress. We have the best ‘couturiers’ in the world, believe me.” They used to hang out a lot, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. She loved spending time with Amélie, simply hearing her brag about french fashion was enough to make her happy. She leaned over to look at the magazine she was holding, suddenly shouting. “Oh my god !” She pointed at a jacket, aviator style, made of brown leather and wool, eyes shining in excitement. “That’s the jacket I’ve always wanted !” Amélie just laughed. “See ? French fashion is the best. Maybe you’ll get it for Christmas, who knows ?”

A few months later, Amélie shot her husband right in the head.

They never made it to Christmas.

////////

She took the jacket out of the box, her fingers gliding across the soft leather. She remembered.

“Joyeux Noël, chérie.”

“Je t’aime”

#secret santa 2017 #widowtracer secret santa 2017 #widowtracer #fanfic #overlookingtheworld #submission

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lenin-it-to-win-it · 7 years

Text

The Sound of Grief

Summary: Toshinori has been extremely busy lately, but there seems to be something more worrying than schoolwork on his mind. Fortunately, his boyfriends Aizawa and Hizashi are determined to give him all the love and support he deserves and try to help him relax in any way they can!

Notes: More high school au allrasermic because I love this ship and for this topic to make sense Toshi would have to be in high school (hint hint there is a canon character death mentioned in this fic) this was really fun to write and I hope u guys enjoy it! also the title is darker than most of the fic is tbh (mostly only the second half is where it gets sad) but i couldnt think of anything else to call it lol

*****************************************************************************************************

Aizawa slid in the open seat next to Hizashi at the cafeteria table and stole a sip from his juice box. “So, I talked to Toshi about seeing that movie with us on Saturday.” Hizashi’s eyes lit up. “And?”

Aizawa sighed. “No luck. He’s busy again, of course. Just like the last two weeks.”

Hizashi slumped in his seat for a moment before straightening up. “Well, maybe next time,” he said with his usual optimism. “What did he say? Did he sound disappointed?”

Aizawa shrugged. “Uh, yeah, I think so. Before I left, he made this sort of, I don’t know, sad sighing noise. He sounded sorry, I guess.”

“Which one was it?” Hizashi asked.

Aizawa furrowed his brow. “Which one?”

“Which noise! There are three classes of Sad Toshi Noises, you know,” Hizashi explained, rifling around in his binder. “I drew a diagram. It should be in here somewhe- oh, found it!” He pulled out a crumpled sheet of notebook paper with a diagram drawn on it in pink glitter pen. The diagram consisted of three bubbles, each with a small sketch of Toshinori’s face and some scribbled notes Aizawa could barely decipher.

“The first Sad Toshi Noise is the one I like to call ‘the kicked kitten’.” Hizashi pointed at the first bubble, which featured a drawing of Toshinori with cat ears and a speech bubble that, unless Aizawa was gravely mistaken, read ‘hewwo’. “Now, this one isn’t the most common, but it’s one of the most distinguished,” Hizashi continued. “Like the name implies, Toshi-senpai sounds like, y’know, a kicked kitten. Usually this sound means he’s feeling guilty so you’re most likely to hear it if he forgot something.”

Aizawa rolled his eyes. “Mr. Perfect, forgetting anything? Not fucking likely. That bitch has like five different planners- he probably has a planner just for scheduling when he’s gonna write stuff in his other planners!”

“Well, maybe he left one of his planners in his locker or something,” Hizashi laughed. “Like I said, that one’s not super common. Toshi-senpai tends to be really on top of things, but, you know, accidents happen, and when they do he always sounds really hurt and sad by it.” Hizashi’s eyes shone like he was about to cry. “Poor Toshi-senpai! I just want to give him a hug and tell him it’ll all be okay!”

Aizawa gently punched Hizashi’s shoulder to calm him down. “Toshi’s fine, you big dork. It wasn’t the kitten noise.” Hizashi sniffled. “It wasn’t?” Aizawa shook his head. “Nah, it was more. . .” He threw his hands in the air, frustrated. “I don’t know how to describe it, but if he sounded like a kitten, I would’ve noticed.”

“If it wasn’t the kicked kitten noise, then maybe it was-” Hizashi pointed at the second bubble on his diagram. “-the ‘strained and prolonged uhh’ sound! This one’s the most common.” In the second bubble, Toshinori was giving a forced smile, indicated by the arrow pointing to his face labelled ‘forced smile’. His eyes were also in two very different places on his face, with one practically on his nose and the other on his forehead, but Aizawa didn’t think that was part of the diagram.

Hizashi kept talking. “So, this is the one we hear the most because it’s the most versatile. In his natural habitat, one can hear the wild Toshi-senpai’s signature uhh sound when he’s feeling conflicted about something, like, say, if he wants to take us both on a date because we’re his boyfriends and he loves us very much, but he can’t because he has homework.”

“And class president duties, and he’s leading a study group, and there’s a practice club meeting, and he’s volunteering at the kitten orphanage while simultaneously donating both his kidneys to charity or whatever the fuck goody-two-shoes bullshit he’s up to now,” Aizawa grumbled.

Hizashi swooned. “He’s such a sweetheart! I’d give Toshi-senpai both of my kidneys! Uh, but anyway!” he added, catching sight of Aizawa’s stormy expression. “Anyway, the point is, that’s how Toshi-senpai sounds when he’s conflicted. It’s hard for him to choose between us, his boyfriends who he loves more than anything else in the whole entire world, and all his various school activities and hero training things.” Hizashi’s expression dimmed for a moment. “He’s really busy, you know. He can’t always make time for us. . .”

“It wasn’t that, either,” Aizawa interjected, more to cheer Hizashi up than anything else. “He didn’t really sound conflicted. It was more like. . . he couldn’t seem to catch his breath?”

“Ah, I think I know what you’re talking about!” Hizashi lit up, excited. “Last but not least, we have ‘the exhausted sigh’! Not as common as the uhh, but not as rare as the kicked kitten.” Aizawa nudged Hizashi’s hand to the side so he could see the drawing of Toshinori. There were sweat drops drawn on his forehead, and the speech bubble over his head read simply, ‘AAAAAA’. “As you can see from my great artistic depiction, when you hear the exhausted sigh, it means Toshi-senpai is really tired.” Hizashi looked up from the diagram to meet Aizawa’s eyes. “When you talked with Toshi-senpai, you said he sounded breathless?”

“Yeah.”

“Did he seem distracted?”

Aizawa thought back to the conversation. “When I found him, he was listening to ‘Eye Of The Tiger’ on loop while reciting math equations under his breath and running wind sprints, so I’d say so, yeah.”

“Then, yup! I’d say that’s a textbook example of an exhausted sigh!” Hizashi replied, proud to have solved the mystery. However, his excitement quickly wore off. “Jeez, poor Toshi-senpai. He really doesn’t know how to take it easy, huh?”

Aizawa felt his stomach squirm. Toshinori had never been calm or laid-back, but recently, there had been something manic in the way he threw himself with reckless abandon into everything he did. He was still smiling, but Aizawa could sense the strain behind it, a certain brittleness, like if Toshinori wound himself any tighter, he would snap in half and break. For the past few weeks, he had always sounded rushed and out of breath regardless of what he had been doing beforehand, as if he was trying to shove as many words out of his mouth as quickly as possible before. . . before what? Aizawa clenched his hands into fists. Toshinori seemed anxious, but what was he so damn scared of? What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he just say something was going on with him instead of pasting a smile on his face and running himself into the ground?

Aizawa froze.

What if I’m the problem?

Toshinori was so busy training, did he really have time to be in a relationship? Did he even want to be anymore? Maybe that’s why he sounded so nervous- he wasn’t sure how to end the relationship. For someone as (obnoxiously, insufferably) loving and affectionate as Toshinori, it couldn’t be fun being in a relationship where he was constantly unable to spend time with his boyfriends. He probably felt guilty- guilty for staying in a relationship he didn’t have time for, and guilty for wanting to end it and risk hurting someone’s feelings. . .

“Enough of this,” Aizawa thought to himself, irritated. “Speculating won’t do anything but cause trouble.” Aizawa roused himself from his thoughts and turned to Hizashi. “We’ve gotta have a talk with Toshi.”

***

“Break up?” The only other time Aizawa had seen Toshinori look so confused was when he was doing math homework. “Why would I want to break up with you?”

Hizashi seemed like he was about to cry. “Well, you’re just. . . so busy. . .”

Aizawa took Hizashi’s hand and squeezed it. “It doesn’t seem like you have time for a relationship right now,” he explained, not meeting Toshinori’s eyes. Aizawa opened his mouth to say more, but before he could speak, Toshinori was squeezing him and Hizashi half to death in a tight hug.

“No, no, no, I love you both a lot, and I’m so sorry I made you feel that way,” Toshinori said in a rush. Aizawa could feel Toshinori’s heartbeat going a mile per minute inside his chest. “I’ve been. . . there’s been a lot going on, and I’ve had a hard time. . . I. . .” He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I haven’t been making time for you guys recently. I’ve been distracted, I guess, but that’s no excuse, and I’m sorry I hurt you.”

Hizashi threw his arms around Toshinori and hopped on his tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek. “It’s okay, Toshi-senpai, don’t worry! Just spend a little more time with us, okay? We love you!”

Toshinori laughed, relieved, and gave Hizashi a kiss. “Thanks, babe. I love you, too.” Hizashi melted into Toshinori’s arms and started nuzzling his chest. Toshinori turned to Aizawa with a shy, questioning smile. “I can cancel some plans this Saturday so we can all go out together, if you want.”

Aizawa sighed and laid his head against Toshinori’s chest. “Fine.”

“Great! Saturday it is, then!” Toshinori gave Aizawa and Hizashi one last squeeze, then pulled away and started pacing, listing off potential date plans so quickly Aizawa could barely separate one word from the next.

Toshinori’s restless pacing and breathless talking speed made Aizawa feel uneasy. If he wasn’t dealing with relationship anxiety, what was Toshinori so worried about?

“Whatever the problem is, it won’t get better if he keeps pushing himself like this,” Aizawa thought. “He needs to relax.”

“Actually, Toshi,” Aizawa interjected, disrupting Toshinori’s still-continuing stream of date ideas. “Why don’t Hizashi and I plan this date?”

Hizashi jumped on board immediately. “Yeah, let me and Shouta take care of it!” He gave Toshinori a hug. “You always end up planning the dates, why not let us have a chance?”

Toshinori laughed, surprised. “If you guys want to, yeah!” As he looked down at Hizashi and Aizawa, a strange, glittering intensity filled his eyes, but when he spoke, his voice was soft. “I’m sure whatever you two come up with will be amazing.”

***

“For the last fucking time, Hizashi,” Aizawa grumbled as he threw a blanket over the couch. “No, go-karting is not a relaxing activity.”

Hizashi pouted and fluffed a pillow. “I think it’s calming.”

“You think Swedish death metal is like a soothing lullaby. You have a lot of wrong opinions.”

“Everyone relaxes differently,” Hizashi argued.

“Yeah, but do you really think Toshi would be able to relax within five hundred feet of any kind of competition?” Aizawa replied, raising an eyebrow.

Hizashi laughed. “Okay, true. I take it Monopoly is off the table, too, then?” “Monopoly is always off the table since the last time I played with you fuckers, Toshi One For All’ed a hole in the table and broke his wrist and you screamed so loud the TV cracked. Four times. That’s also why we have to have this date here at your place- my parents would probably murder us all if I brought you two to the house again.”

“Well, whatever you think will be best for Toshi-senpai,” said Hizashi brightly, smoothing the wrinkles out of the blanket Aizawa had set on the couch. “He does need to relax- that I can agree with, even if I do think some Swedish death metal would help.”

“No Swedish death metal, Hizashi.” The doorbell rang, and Hizashi forgot about Swedish death metal instantly. “He’s here!” he shrieked, rushing to the door. “Toshi-senpai!”

Toshinori stood on the other side of the doorway, dressed in a suit and carrying a bouquet of roses.“I, um, wasn’t sure what the plans were, so I thought it would be best to come prepared,” he said with an embarrassed little smile.

Aizawa rolled his eyes but couldn’t keep himself from grinning. “Toshi, you fuckin’ dork.”

“You look gorgeous, Toshi-senpai!” Hizashi gushed, throwing his arms around Toshinori and almost crushing the roses. “And you brought flowers! So romantic!”

Toshinori laughed. “Aw, thanks.” He tugged at one of his sleeves and sighed. “I should probably get a new suit, though- I’ve only had this one for a few months, but I’m already starting to outgrow it.”

Aizawa, who was nearly a foot shorter than Toshinori, groaned. “You and your tall people problems. There’s no need to brag about it.”

“Don’t be jealous, sweetheart,” said Toshinori, leaning down to give Aizawa a kiss. “I think it’s cute how small you are!”

Toshinori was being completely sincere, and somehow that made everything worse.

“So, what do we have planned for the date?” Toshinori asked, his voice sounding cheerful but strained. He tugged at one of the longer parts of his hair, then pulled his hand away. The gesture made Aizawa notice that Toshinori’s right hand was clumsily wadded up in bandages. “Are we going to see that movie you were talking about earlier this week? Or do some go-karting, maybe?” Hizashi shot Aizawa a look, but Aizawa kept his eyes on Toshinori. “Actually, we’re going to stay here. We have something special planned.”

“Oh, okay then. Nice and low-key.” Toshinori looked down at his suit and laughed again. “I guess I’m overdressed.”

Hizashi squeezed Toshinori’s hand. “Don’t worry about it! Don’t worry about anything, actually, because today’s date is all about rest and relaxation!” Hizashi bounced on his heels and beamed at Aizawa. “Right, Shouta?”

Aizawa nodded. “Right. You’ve seemed stressed out lately, so for our date, we’re going to do everything we can to make sure you calm the fuck down.”

Toshinori’s smile couldn’t conceal the anxiety creeping into his eyes. “Oh, wow, that’s really sweet! I just hope you haven’t been worried about me. I’m totally fine. I’ve just been busy with, you know, with school, and-” Toshinori swallowed and looked away. “-training.”

Aizawa narrowed his eyes but chose not to comment. Instead, he smiled and took Toshinori’s hand. “Come over here and sit down,” he said, leading him to the couch.

Hizashi kissed Toshinori’s forehead. “Yeah! Just rest, relax, and let us take care of you, okay?”

Toshinori looked back and forth at Hizashi and Aizawa with a soft, almost shy smile. “Okay.”

“I’ll make nice, soothing hot chocolate!” Hizashi exclaimed, running to the kitchen. “I bought jumbo marshmallows, too, so it can be extra special!”

Aizawa sat down next to Toshinori and started stroking his hair. “Is this too weird, or do you like it?” he asked,

Toshinori leaned against Aizawa and laid his head on his shoulder, closing his eyes. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

They sat together in silence, listening to Hizashi’s excited screaming, audible even from the kitchen. With his free hand, Aizawa delicately touched Toshinori’s bandaged hand. “What happened?” he asked, keeping his voice low so Hizashi wouldn’t know they weren’t paying attention.

Toshinori sat up, lifting his head from Aizawa’s shoulder. “Well, you know how it is,” he said, smiling but not meeting Aizawa’s eyes. “One for All can be hard to control.” He flexed his wrist. “It should be fine in a few days or so.”

“I have seen you get injured using your quirk before,” said Aizawa, drawing out each word and staring into Toshinori’s eyes. “But I’ve never seen your bandages done this poorly. They’re all wadded up and uneven- it looks like you did it yourself, with one hand.”

“Well, I couldn’t bandage it with both hands,” Toshinori replied with a weak laugh.

“Do you usually wrap your bandages yourself?”

“I-” Toshinori’s face flushed red. “N-not usually,” he whispered, gripping his knees with his hands.

Aizawa kept his voice level despite his growing concern.“There was no one there to help with the bandages? So you were training alone?” If Toshinori was training with his quirk outside of school without his mentor nearby, he could be putting himself at risk for worse injuries than a broken hand.

“Stop talking about it!”

Aizawa blinked, stunned.

Toshinori seemed surprised by his own outburst, by the tears filling his eyes. Ashamed, he stared at the ground. “I-I don’t. . . I can’t talk about training right now. I can’t. Please don’t- I don’t want to-” Tears started rolling down his cheeks. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to cry. I tried so hard not to cry-”

Aizawa grabbed Toshinori and hauled him into a rough embrace. “Don’t apologize” he said, holding Toshinori as tightly as he could. “Just tell me what’s wrong. Don’t worry about crying.”

Toshinori lowered his head until his forehead was pressed to Aizawa’s. “You know how I’ve been so busy lately?” he murmured, wrapping his arms around Aizawa. “Yeah.” “I’ve had to stay busy because-” Toshinori bit his lip, then forced himself to keep talking. “If I don’t distract myself, I-I’ll fall apart. I can’t stay still or it’ll all catch up to me and I-” Toshinori whimpered, and Aizawa could feel his heart break.

Without quite knowing why, Aizawa thought back to Hizashi’s diagram and the three classes of Sad Toshi Noises. He had witnessed the fourth, the rarest, most painful of all: the sound of grief.

“Toshi,” he murmured, rubbing Toshinori’s back. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s also why I haven’t been spending time with you and Hizashi,” Toshinori continued with an unhinged laugh, brushing tears from his eyes. “Because I knew this would happen. I knew you’d realize something was wrong.” He gave Aizawa a shaking smile. “You love me too much not to.” Tears started flowing again. “But I can’t have that. Because you’d make me tell you what happened, and I knew it would make me cry and I didn’t want to cry!” Toshinori’s breathing came in sharp, heavy gasps. “I didn’t cry when I found out what happened, I didn’t cry when I was alone, and I didn’t cry at school when I had to smile and laugh and pretend everything was fine. . .”

“Well, you’re past pretending now, so tell me what happened!” Aizawa snapped. Then, taking in Toshinori’s shattered, tearful eyes, he sighed. “I’m sorry, Toshi, I didn’t mean to get sharp with you. I just. . .” Aizawa sighed again, running a hand through his hair. “I want to help you, and I can’t if I don’t know what’s going on.” He met Toshinori’s eyes. “You have to be honest with me, and with Hizashi, too. We care about you. We want to help.”

Hizashi came in from the kitchen with the hot chocolate, halting in his tracks when he realized Toshinori was crying. He set the mugs of hot chocolate down on a nearby chair and came rushing over to comfort Toshinori. “Hey, hey, don’t be upset about crying, okay? It’s okay to be sad.” He rubbed Toshinori’s back and put one hand on his shoulder. “Shouta and I, we love you no matter what. You’re so good and strong, and beautiful, and special, and just. . .” Hizashi started to tear up, and he kissed one of Toshinori’s tearstained cheeks. “We love you, okay? It’s like Shouta said, we want to help you.”

Toshinori took a deep, shuddering breath. “There’s nothing you can do,” he whispered. “Nana’s dead.”

“Nana? Your mentor?” Hizashi asked, not needing clarification but unable to think of anything else to say. “Oh, I- that’s terrible.”

Toshinori choked out a laugh before his face immediately crumbled and he started crying again. “Agreed.”

Aizawa took Toshinori’s uninjured hand and pressed it between both of his. “I-I know you care about her a lot,” he said unable to keep his voice from shaking. “And I know you miss her, but. . . would she really want you to live like this?” Aizawa lifted Toshinori’s bandaged hand. “Would she want you to hurt yourself like this? Or to push away friends and people who care about you while trying to hide from the pain?”

Toshinori lowered his head. “N-no.”

Hizashi started stroking Toshinori’s hair. “What do you think she’d want you to do?” he asked, managing to get even his loud, abrasive voice to sound soft for once.

“She- she would want me to stay strong, and to keep getting stronger,” said Toshinori slowly. He turned to look at Aizawa, pain in his eyes. “But how can I do that when everything hurts so much?”

“Well, you can’t run away from it, that’s for sure,” Aizawa replied, placing a firm hand on top of Toshinori’s head. “I’m not good with feelings either,” he admitted. “But you’re a hero, aren’t you? Heroes can’t run away from things that scare them.”

“Yeah, and- and you can’t feel ashamed of crying, or being sad, or hurting,” Hizashi added, smiling through tears of his own. “Sometimes, crying is part of being strong, and you can’t really get any better until after you do it.” He patted Toshinori’s head, then placed his hand on top of Aizawa’s. “So cry as much as you need to. It’s okay.”

Toshinori took a deep breath. “You’re right. . . both of you are right. . .” He managed a small, trembling smile, then dragged Aizawa and Hizashi into a hug. “I love you two so much. . . what would I do without you?” “Run yourself into the ground with exhaustion?” Aizawa suggested. “Slowly descend into madness?”

“Maybe.” Toshinori laughed, then yawned. “The exhaustion part sure isn’t far off, anyway. Even my bones are tired. I don’t think I’ve gotten a full night’s sleep in weeks.”

Aizawa wrapped his arms around Toshinori. “Then sleep, you big dumbass,” he said. “Take a nap.”

Hizashi gave Toshinori a gentle kiss on the cheek. “Yeah, get some rest. Shouta and I will keep you safe. And if you feel rested enough when you wake up, maybe we could-”

“Hizashi, you ignorant slut, if you bring up the go-karts again, I swear I’ll-”

“For your information, I was gonna suggest Monopoly!”

“Oh, hell no! The fuck did I tell you about Monopoly?! Do you ever listen to a word I say, you overgrown cockatoo?”

Comforted by the warmth of his boyfriends’ arms around him and the familiar sounds of their affectionate arguing, Toshinori fell asleep after only a few minutes, and he dreamed pleasant dreams.

#bnha #allrasermic #here come dat fic o shit waddup

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