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secretbangtnn · 3 years

Text

Until I Bleed Out | One

↬genre : hybrid au! smut(later), fluff, angst, poly, slowburn, mentions of abo

↬ pairing : poly!BTS x hybrid!reader

↬ ratings : 18+ NSFW / 16+ this chapter

↬ warnings : violence, inhumane treatment, homelessness, toxic behavior, mentions murder

↬ words : 5,2 k

notes ~okay so that s the first so waited for chapter. I’m sorry if it is not exactly what you hoped for but it's only the first one and I needed to begin the story somehow. However I hope you like it, even if our oc is still so quiet. Please leave some kind of feedback it would be awesome to know your opinion

taglist : @crushedblackroses@prooteus@horanghae18@a-golden-sunflower-vol-6@chubbybunsbunny@drunkzseok@taozibun1@moonchildjooniee@starstrucktae@gaeguuliii@jinssexytoe@urbanbts@sacha-cff@seoksberries@yeolkoo@toribug2020@jjeonggujk@thefoxsleeps@fangirl125reader@unicornbabylover@annie-johns@slutawarakoushi@cstobitk@mcusuperfreak@lovelysky15@a-s-h-s-fedora@ella-mella@doyunhokpop

It’s getting colder. The cold weather piercing every piece of body that came out of the calmness of heavy buildings, wind messing those perfect hair or blowing hats from their heads.

One of those furry covers laid just before you. One you knew really well considering the fact that it was with you from the beginning of life on the streets. It looked at you, the same gaze as the people walking a little farther - mixture of the known disgust and pity.

Kind of funny how the dead thing meant so much and could be so impressive in your eyes, nearly making you sight from the feeling it put you in. Comfort of the item so close yet so far, smiling cunningly at how pathetic your situation is, looking at the fact that your location is exactly on the other side of the busy road.

It’s only like five steps, why are you so scared?

You needed it. Ears on top of your head slowly freezes, twitching from the non ending wind that only seems to get stronger with coming days, only reminding you how the hat should be in your hands right now.

Eyes moved from side to side, observing how people walked right before you, not minding you or better, not noticing the shadowed figure hiding in the dark of a dirty alley. Problem was not with the length you needed to cross, but rather the sharp eyes of those who would not hesitate to take care of your being. Silent whispers even got to you, the population of homeless hybrids not having any relationship or more likely being wary of each other were still helpful, talking and sending discreet messages about dog catchers - in your case however hybrid catchers.

Something you nearly had a close meeting with, having enough luck to actually run away from waiting misfortune. Memories of it still making you shiver and pale.

The luck today is not on your side, with the new knowledge of the coming backs of those terrifying people, searching for maybe you. Breathe catched in your lungs, cold from the weather scratching your throat with its coldness as you leaned out from the shadow of the dark alley.

clean.

Your only chance.

Gathering all your courage, you looked over your shoulders, catching gaze with the sleepy feline, freezing even more than yourself, and with the little mewl from her you crawled from the safety of the passage. Cold of the wind hit you even more, blowing the matted and knotted hair over your whole face, making the trip a little harder with the limited visibility.

Socks on your feet catching moisture from the puddles of melted hoarfrost as the water stinged your cold skin with the passing seconds numbing the feeling of them completely. Circling your arms you hid under the lonely bench waiting for the passing people to get a little farther.

So close, you could feel the fluffy fabric in your hands. And you did, happily hugging it to your chest with a new hope.

You missed the comfort of the hat. Material a little dirtier than you remember, not smelling like you either, it stinked of the dirt and some kind of old food you could not recognize at this moment. But even with the no pleasant smell it still gave you a piece of safety.

Fuzzy fabric under your fingers, brushing it with love and delicacy just how you did with the fluffy carpet some months ago.

Oh yeah, the carpet. You did not like to think too much about it, not anymore after knowing what exactly it was made of and how it got into the hands of that human. In the end, you were supposed to end like this too.

Looking down at the hat in your hands you smiled softly, the imagines of the warm house still buzzing in your mind, not being fully bad or good, just memories you tried to forget with things that could replace it.

“What is that?” Quickly snapping your head in the place where the voice came from, two new heads came into the calm atmosphere you so quickly lost. Young woman with a child maybe not over six year old, clutching the younglings hands as if it would disappear soon.

“It looks like some dirty rat, stay here darling it might have some diseases.” Well that hurts. Yes, maybe your fur is matted, and your ears look a little less fluffy as well as your tail, bur rat? The snarky remark nearly left your mouth knowing very well that even if the woman looked expensive with the strong perfume you could smell from where you stayed, she would in no way have enough money to even buy you for one night. At least you think so.

Your thoughts however quickly disturbed by a ring of a phone, and that makes your flat ears spring to life with new anxiety building in the pit of your stomach.

It was a sign to hide again.

Taking the hat under arm, you dived under the bench once again, scrambling to the shadow of the alley, not minding the fast beating heart that quickened with the voice of a woman.

Breath fast and heavy with the lungs pricking you in the inside from the sudden run. Better safe than sorry, and even if it means that your throat will be begging for some warm water which it won’t get, it’s still better than being caught and not knowing if the next day will be yours.

“I did it.” You whispered falling on the dirty wall behind. Closed eyes let you catch the lost breath a little quicker, with the help of the piece of hard surface that soon got under your butt too. There is not even a reason to smile so much, stupid hat not will not satisfy your groing hunger, so why the stupid grin could not fall of your face, only getting big with your eyes opening.

Little mewl getting your attention once again, the cat looking at you with big eyes as if it thanks you for what you are going to do next. With all will power you stood up from the dirty ground, knees shaky from the exercise they were not ready for, and took three steps only to fall once again before the dirty blanket with the feline in it.

“It’s going to be okay, hopefully the hat will be enough for some days.” You know it was not true. But the look of the cat and little meow that came just under the bigger body was enough to put your nerves at ease. She needed the hat more anyway, she has kids and needed to be stronger a little more.

Purr soon like the music you heard one time flowed in the little space you named as your home, happy little noise making you smile again, pure grin you would be ashamed to admit appeared on your tired face. Little head under your shaky fingers as you brushed the matted fur knotted and missing in some place.

She won’t last the winter, not with the state she is in right now. The cat was with you nearly from the beginning of the homeless journey, first looking as good as you, with the good smelling coat of black hairs and sparkly eyes that looked at you with wariness. You both were so cluessel about your situation, just left to yourself without any help, and maybe that’s why the wretchedly looking cat became someone so close.

It’s one thing to realize when you lost something and second when you are losing with your own eyes. It makes you sick, but the constant reminder to be strong for her keeps you on your feet, now knees with jaw clenched watching how those little kittens basically sucks the life of their own mother. They came unannounced, one night waking you up from sleep as the devastating sounds of your furry friend ringed in the colder autumn night. Both of you with time got so unhealthy skinny you did not notice.

What if you did?

Would it change something, or are you trying to justify your actions? No, you were no killer, maybe giving her to a family would be some kind of solution. Now too late however to think about it as the black beauty looked at you with little purr as if she felt your sudden change in demeanor. You smiled, the tension leaving your jaw and muscles, letting your heavy limbs rest on the dirty wall next to. Such a pure creature, dear friend you would remember till your last days but even they seem counted, you just hope that the little kittens will find enough strength in them to survive.

One of them looking at you, trying to leave the comfy blanket of her mothers heat, one that is the smallest, one that you did not want to believe survived. It’s fur is different, probably after father, longer than others and nearly as colorful as yours. As if on sign you catched the little body that nearly crumbled over the hard pavement, now hiding in your hand bigger than its body hand, gazing fleetingly over at the mother she gave you a sweet blink like a silent permission to care for it for the time begin.

“You are going to be a troublemaker aren’t you?” You whispered, lifting the hand with the kitten to your eye level, immediately catching the dark orbs looking at you with a curiosity. Little mewl like a confirmation with a lick to one of your fingers, making you giggle and snuggle the kitten with love. It did not last long, the troublemaker soon insisting on being put on the fluffy hat.

It really looked like you, with its silver and black fur, so long and clean for constant licking of its mother. Pit in your stomach suddenly growing with the sight leaving you once again. Yeah it really made you realize how good life could be if the little incident did not happen.

Sweet scent of wood and fire luling you to sleep and the fluffy carpet under your whole body. The white fur of it is so soft, melting your body in it so delightfully, with the scent of comfort you could not figure out. The carpet, your bed, your chair, your table and your home, it is your life, you spended there since you could remember.

Given by your owner the second you were brought into his house, in the end you could not sit on people's furniture. It was something that you could not measure when it comes to how much you loved it. Maybe it’s a hybrid thing or maybe that’s because you never had a parent figure and the fur of the carpet gave you the weird feeling of security. So important you can not imagine a day without it, your first step, your first fall, your first punishment all of this was on this carpet. Like a blanket for a new born baby, you scented it and tried to give relief to any scenting your animalistic side wanted to do but the owner not allowed.

So with the background noise you could recognize as your owner you slowly fell into a calmness of sleepiness. Heat of the fireplace only speeding the process with its noise, it was just so perfect.

“Wake up.” One command, just above you waking you up from the dreamland. His voice immediately sent you into anxiety, the hardness and anger you could feel not promising anything good.

Sitting on your knees you bend your head like you were supposed to do, looking at the shiny shoes before you, they sparkled off the fireplace and dirtied your carpet a little. Your body started to shake naturally, the reaction something you gained in the years of living there something you could not control anymore.

“I was calling for you so many times, and you were sleeping like some dirty lazy piece of shit?” With the second word he took your ears pulling them so you looked straight at him. His face full of anger fuming even more after your little hiss. You did not hear him, how could you not.

Why did you not catch any noise, were you too comfortable? Your thoughts are soon interrupted by another sting, one that made your head blow to the other side, and if not the hard grip on your ears you would probably fly all the way to the ground.

“Are you so stupid? Or maybe the breeder made me buy some damaged crap.” The sting in your cheek is not stopping, now even letting you feel the metallic taste of a blood, however you could not identify if it's from the slap or the teeth that dug in your lip trying to hold back the tears. “What am I going to do with you hm?”

He had some options, the worst one probably leaving you without any food and water for the next few days or giving you to someone to discipline. But even those could not prepare you for what’s going to happen next.

Tension in your ears suddenly disappeared and so the anger oozing of the man. You felt scared even more, the shivers traveled straight to your fluffy tail which curled on your side. It just happened. You were young and the eyes of the man told you something you were scared about the most.

So without even acknowledging it the wet stain soon came to his shoes. You were brought up like an animal so you acted like one, pissing yourself from anxiousness is something he should not be so shocked about. The wet feeling soon came through your clothes as your ears nearly got into your skool from how flat they laid.

“That’s fucking disgusting.” He said taking some steps back, looking at you with such an expression you felt even less than dirt under his shoes. You clutched your hands, them being in fist so strong the nails you never got trimmed cuted the skin with ease and soon mixed blood with the yellowish liquid. “So many years and you still don’t know how to not piss?! God why am I still caring for you remind me?”

You did not answer, not even when his eyes told you to. Too terrified to do anything other than shake in your place, you just waited. And that was another mistake as the little spark glowed in his orbs soon after.

“That means if treating you as something more than an animal does not work, it’s time to start teaching you as one.” With those words he took one long stride once again taking your ears in a string grasp. The silent scream left your mouth as the pain got so much worse after the first haras tug.

“Please master, Please I wo-” Your cries were like a funny joke to him, only making him pull you harder to his face. Hot breath on your skin, like a hot metal being pressed.

“You know when I was younger I had a cat, even two. And when one of them could not learn they should not piss on furniture, we teached them the hard way.” Eyes stinging with tears, them not being discreet anymore sliding on your red cheeks like two waterfalls, making the red trace from the slap sting even more.

His words were not getting to you at that moment, only the treat that hid between them. With the next second, just when you opened your mouth once again to beg for forgiveness, he tugged you so hard to the ground. There was no empathy, the act inhumane as his hands started to wipe the wet carpet with your own face. Cries muffled so brutally the act imprinted in your head for the rest of your existence.

He did not care about any noise, how your breath got lost in the sobs and how your hands clutching his with time started to fall with exhaustion. You acted like an animal so you got the treatment, nothing you did not deserve. And even when your eyes closed and your body went limp his hands still gripped your ears for a good three minutes until he got satisfied, dropping your body with no care.

You soon found out that you could not move any limp, head looking to the side, soon catching sight of the sparkly shoes and knees. Fur under your fingers is still fluffy giving you comfort and strength to not pass out.

You were only a child.

He crouched, a sick smile on his face which your eyes could not reach. The breath you catched left you once again as his hand soon brushed a strand of hair that fell on your face, an uncontrolled flinch that only gave away how scared you still were.

His fingers soon found your chin catching you off guard with sudden tug. Your head in an uncomfortable place looking at the face of your owner as you silently gripped fur on the carpet for some calming effect.

“I never understood why you love the piece of fabric so much.” He says noticing your gesture. His eyes deep in thought with his hand still clutching your chin, little tears sliding down his skin only to end up lost in the same carpet. “But after some time I started to realize. It’s made from the same piece of shit like you.”

And with those words your word stops, eyes shakily looked up at him once again as if to confirm if you did hear it right. It hit you even more when you realized the fluff of the fur under your fingers indeed was too fluffy and soft. The carpet was your everything and now knowing it actually was someone who could comfort you like this in real life made you sob with a silent scream of agony.

The smell probably somehow lingered making you feel as if there was someone who would protect you. It made you sick. The thought of laying down on another hybrid, one which probably did not die from natural sickness. It terrified you how they must have forced them to stay in animal form only to kill it for its fur.

It made you angry.

“He was a bear, little older than you but definetly more stupid with his intorelabre behaviour. I got him from the same breeder I got you, the guy gave me him as a present for investing in the breeding center, such a precious gift. what a pity he decided to not listen to me.” he says it with such an attitude. Nonchalantly like if he does not care he was more than an animal, no care in his words you could even feel a little smile trying to sneak on his face.

“So my darling, we both don’t want this to happen to you, right?” He asks as if you would answer him. You decided to bit the lip, stopping the ugly sob of ringing in the room with the fear of making human more angry.

You could do nothing in the end.

“Go clean yourself my little fox, we need to go somewhere later.” He ended up nodding in the form of answering the previous question for you. His hand patted your stinging cheek, standing up after it and dusting his suit from invisible dust.

Heavy boots ringing in your ears as his steps got more unclear soon disappearing in the big penthouse. You were left alone, not even an adult with the terrifying truth of what your worth really is.

You were only a child when you decided to run away and live life on the streets. Choosing this life just because you could not bear the sight of another hybrid in such a form, being forced to live on it like someone who is not connected to it on such a deep level.

Catching the sight of the hat once again you smiled sadly, remembering how for you the fluffy could become the only moment of comfort.

At least you knew it was not made of real fur, having that artificial feeling in every piece of hair, however still warm and soft to touch.

“Hyung~ I told you I smell something there.” Sudden voice wakes you up from the thoughts. Whine sounding a little gruff voice however deep and dangerously close to your own self.

They were close too.

Scrambling to your knees you quietly started to put the kittens in the blanket, and took the fabric quickly in your fist. The plan seemed a little easier in your head than that. Jaw so tense you could feel the little fangs piercing through your dry lips as you put all your power into transfering cats into safety.

Your ears spranged to life with the sound of footsteps, getting closer with every second. Panicked expression on your face as you decided to leave the blanket alone, instead you hugged it to your chest praying for the man to just walk away.

It was so risky, showing your back to the potential danger, however the kittens now become your priority, anxiously meowing and scratching your arms from the uncomfortable position.

“Please just stay quiet a little longer.” You begged, feeling the tears prick your eyes. It was pointless and even made the felines more scared than before, probably hearing a quickened beating of your heart.

“I swear I heard something here - oh.” And that was it, they found you. Cold of the air hit you even more with the sudden silence. You heard them breath, they stopped not even two meters from you, completely frozen. “See -I told you! Should have listened to me from the beginning, hyung.”

“It’s not time Teahyung.” There for sure were two of them. One being hybrid with its thick smell, more precisely a predator - feline. Second seem like a trick one, with so many smells you could not describe, however the one you would recognize the most soon hit your nose with a blow.

Human.

Your eyes widened as your mouth started to feel weirdly dry. Everything quietened, the kittens stopped moving as well as the intruders, with your breath leaving you completely.

You did not realize how badly your body shook until the blanket nearly fell from your embrace, catching yourself just before the disaster.

You listened as one of them made a step in your way, immediately jumping away with a hiss. Tail so puffy you nearly could not feel how hard it was swishing the ground. You looked at the human, the one which decided to come closer, with a frown, eyes sharp ready to attack anytime.

He’s tall, towering over your form nearly two times with a long coat and a beanie that hid his hair completely. His hands are in the air, as if he wanted to tell you he is not going to hurt you, with an expression full of worry.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” He says taking another step in your way, quickly stopping realizing how this move made you even more anxious. “Taehyung, could you bring the blankets from the car?”

He did not even wait for any other instruction, running somewhere leaving you and the human alone.

It’s really bad. There is no way for you to sneak past him without leaving kittens or getting caught, which leaves you only to curl tighter under one of the bins farthest to the human.

He is watching you so carefully as if you would disappear any given minute, with the eyes you could only describe as similar to a dragon. Sharp and attentive, so dark but full of unspoken happiness hiding under the pupils.

“It’s cold, Taehyung will soon come with blankets.” He tells you with a quiet voice. Kittens in your embrace trying to move once again making you grip the torn fabric harder only to end up getting the humans attention on the last thing you wanted to place it on. His eyes widened and mouth opened like a fish with the new information he got. “Are they yours?”

You wanted to laugh at his confused and even more worrisome face, deciding however to stay curled and quiet. There was no way for you to give birth, and even thought you were a completely different animal than the kittens in your arms.

Just when you wanted to answer, the other feline came back, giving you the full view of the hybrid before you. His hair fluffy nearly hiding the big striped ears on top, however not them gave away what actually the panting man is, but rather the long tail soon wrapping itself over the arm of the human.

His arms full of blankets, breath heavy from the quick run he just finished as he sat on the ground with a heavy huf.

“I ran as fast as I could.” He gasped, propping half of his body on the human.

“You did well Tae, can you give them to our new friend too?” The way he said that matched the look on his face. Calming and so soft only leaving you with more anxiety over the weird behaviour. Hands finding a way to brush the fluffy hair and get a little purr from the tiger which happily, a little tired, but still happy stood up once again coming closer to you.

Your eyes widened as your body shook from the sudden closeness of the feline. What was he doing, is he going to grab you and forcefully make you leave with them whoever knows where?

You hissed on the spots, not noticing how the movement revealed the little family you protected in your arms, immediately catching the attention of the tiger.

“Oh! Kittens.” He shouts dropping the blankets on the floor, ducking after it to touch one of the fluffy cats. And that was his mistake.

Not even a second passed when the tiger shouted once again, this time clutching his scratched hand to his body, scrambling to the human which just shook his head disappointed, probably realizing now how his request would end.

“She scratched me hyung!” He whined showing the small longitudinal wound to the man beside. Eyes full of unshed tears and mouth in a pout, so different from other tiger hybrids you met, but maybe that was just an act. Even though looking back at the fluffy haired man your own guilt started to eat you somewhere still however you were overwhelmed by the fear.

However the apologetic face did not escape the eyes of the human as his own eyes soon turned to the whiny hybrid on his side, taking his hand in his own and blowing delicacy on red mark.

“You shouldn’t have jumped like this in the first place, you scared her even more and such a sudden movement is not going to lessen her nerves.” His eyes turned to the poting tiger, looking at him with a soft expression. The gesture he did after making you straighten up a little, observing how his bigger hands flick the little ear of the curly haired male, immediately getting from him an bigger pout and offended look.

Once again there is the silence, choking you even more than the little bicker that happened not minute ago. Your own eyes find themselves on the blanket left a little farrer from you, not enough to take them by hand, but if you try hard enough your foot will reach it.

“They are for you.” You heard as if they encouraged you to make a move for it. But you were not that stupid, the obvious trap were nothing new, you just hoped they would leave you as soon as they got bored. “You are freezing, and if not for you think about the kittens. I can see you care about them.”

He had a point. The little ones indeed were freezing, your body heat not enough to warm them in the middle of the windy night. Your skin even for you felt like an ice to touch, numb and shaky in some places blue and purple from not healed wounds.

“Please just take them, I promise we are not going to do anything.” It was surprising, how his voice broke in the middle of the sentence, begging you to comply. You couldn’t hide how big your eyes got, or how the tone made you look up from the blankets straight to the eyes of the human.

Why is he so desperate? Is it some kind of act?

The little whine caught you of gourd interrupting the building question as the tiger next to the human gazed at you with such sad eyes.

“We just want to help, right Hyung?” The tiger, whose name was Taehyung if you remember well, asked turning his head to watch his hyung nod in confirmation. You saw how his tail was now clutched in his hands, something you did to comfort yourself too.

But why would he do that?

You watched them, jumping from the tiger to human for at least a minute, until your eyes catched the dark orbs of the black cat, your friend that must have felt your dilemma encouraging you to make a move. It was hard, watching the strangers with sharp eyes while placing the blanket on the side with carefulness.

The blanket felt different, soft and smelled of a detenger and some other hybrids. The color of it is such a pretty cream, sadly it won’t last in such a state for a long time on the streets. The fluff on it is a little worn off but still pleasant on your cheek as you unconsciously start to scent it not even hearing your own purr leaving your throat.

The little giggle woke you up from the faze with red cheeks, not necessarily so red from the cold weather. Scrambling fast to the safety of your small corner you quickly took the blanket and wrapped it around the kittens, watching with a smile how those fluffy felines immediately started to make a nest off it.

You looked once again at the duo, catching them watching you with little smiles. Oh well the tiger grinned like crazy, which you were not going to lie made you embarrassed even more about them seeing you in such a state.

“I’m happy you like it.” The human said, breathing with a relife you could not understand. He stood up suddenly, taking the bigger hand of a tiger taking him to his feet with him. His calm eyes watching you a little less off put you cold even said he got relaxed.

“We won’t stress you more, but please use the other blanket for yourself too.” You don’t understand, are they going to leave you like this? The tiger shared your confusion looking at the human male with big eyes and shocks.

:Wait - hyung we can’t leave-

“There is nothing we can do more for now.” He cuted him watching him with hard look. The tiger is still a little put off from his weird behaviour.

Why would Namjoon just leave her when she evidently needs help?

“But-” This time the human just opted to tug the tiger to his side whispering something to his ears you could not catch, visibly calming down the nerves of the big cat.

And once again you were met with that dimpled smile and dragon eyes looking at you with undescribed promise. With the last nod from him and the worried gaze of the tiger they both disappeared under the dark shadow of the night, leaving you alone with the silence and fast beating heart.

You just hoped that the meeting is not going to be something you will need to experience daily.

1K notes · View notes

jadegrey711 · 3 years

Text

Trouble

Soft dark!Andy Barber x Fem!Reader

A/N: Hello everyone! So recently I’ve become absolutely obsessed with both @navybrat817 and @stargazingfangirl18 who both write absolutely amazing stuff and I want to be them when I grow up. So when I found out Siri was doing a 5k writing challenge i figured i’d throw my hat in the ring and maybe get out of this depression writing slump.

So I decided to make a vey very very! Soft!Dark Andy Barber x Fem!Reader. Seriously it’s like Dark Light lol. But I hope you all like it! I hope to do another one before the month is over but let’s see shall we?

*NOT MY GIF. Credit in the TAGS*

Word Count:1484

If you like my stories you can check out my sideblog @jadegreywriting to see all of them and my masterlist without filtering through my main blog.

I own all rights to this story and do not give permission for my stories to be published, translated or reposted anywhere else. The only places I have published my stories is here on Tumblr and on my AO3 account (LadyAuthor711)

This story is for 18+ ONLY. It contains sexual themes that are not suited for younger audiences so if you’re under 18 my blog and this story is not for you. Please make sure to read at your own discretion and remember that you are solely responsible for your content intake.

WARNINGS: Sexual Situations (18+ ONLY), Overstimulation, possessive Andy, deeply jealous Andy, Oral sex (F Receiving), Vaginal sex.

Other warnings include very mediocre writing.

He watched you from a distance as he continued talking with his fellow associates, making sure to keep a watchful eye on you as you chatted with the wives. He smirked to himself knowing you must be bored out of your mind, but you did it for him and he loved you for it.

Suddenly though, Andy watched as Neil Logiudice approached you from behind, putting a hand on your arm. You seemed startled for a minute and then smiled, putting your hand on top of his and Andy saw red.

He barely registered what the others in his group were talking about. Because his gaze was focused solely on you and Neil and how cozy you were in each other’s company. How you and the other women laughed at some joke he made and about how in the three minutes he had been standing there he hadn’t been able to keep his fucking hands off of you. He felt like breaking each one of those fingers, making sure he let Neil know that he was never to touch you again. He could feel his whole body vibrate with violence as he continued watching, knowing you were none the wiser.

Neil was nice enough and he was an associate of Andy’s so when he put his hand on your arm to get your attention you let it slide, putting your hand on top of his and gave it a friendly pat fighting the urge to swat it away immediately. You were at a party full of Andy’s work friends and associates so making a scene over something small would not be a good impression on either your part or Andy’s; so you let it slide and you let the other four times he touched you slide as well. Even as you were mentally flinching each time he did it. After the fourth time you looked around the room for Andy, looking for an escape of some kind and immediately found him; across the room and boring holes into the back of Neil’s head with that dark gaze.

You took that as your cue to quickly excuse yourself, saying that it was getting rather late and you should go and find Andy. Everyone waved you off as you departed from the group and over to where Andy was.

“Hi honey.” You smiled, grabbing his hand and lacing your fingers with his and while everyone else in the group was still talking you heard Andy sigh and grip your fingers back; turning his face towards your he gave you a small smile.

“Do you want to get out of here?” He whispered in your ear.

“Definitely!” You whispered back. Before you plastered a smile on your face as Andy said goodbye to everyone and then put his hand on the small of your back and guided you out the exit.

Later that night after you both had gotten home, gotten into bed and as Andy had your leg over his strong shoulder while he devoured your soul between your legs did he bring up Neil.

You writhed on the bed, your fingers tangled in Andy’s hair as you felt your orgasm coming on fast with the pace he was eating you out at. When suddenly Andy surprised you.

“You good friends with Neil now?” he asked nonchalantly against your folds, before he sucked harshly on your clit. Making you groan.

“What?” you asked confused at what he was possibly asking you right now as he was sucking all rational thought out through your pussy.

“Are you good friends with Neil?” He asked again, giving your clit another harsh suck. And you felt your legs convulse.

“What the fuck Andy?” You asked but the sound of his name was more of a moan as he added two of his fingers and pumped your sweet pussy.

Andy didn’t give for a minute as he continued to suck and lick at your folds until you finally came, but instead of gently working you through your orgrasm, his fingers kept their harsh pace as he looked up at you.

“You seemed like real good friends when you let him put his fucking hands on you.” He growled as he placed an open mouth kiss on your pussy. His other hand pulling the hood of your clit back before placing another one of those kisses there and sucking it again.

“Fuck! Andy! I’m gonna come again.” you cried out, feeling that the pleasure was starting to be too much for you. But the way that you started to pull on Andy’s hair to pull him off or the way your hips turned away from him his touches didn’t deter him one bit as he continued with his interrogation.

He leaned up from you and watched his fingers stroke in and out of you before he added a third one, earning a low whine from you as you felt yourself building up to another orgasm.

“You didn’t answer my question sweetheart. Why did that fuck think he could put his hands on what is mine?”

“Andy.” you moaned, trying to get away from his touch but he wasn’t having any of that as he placed his heavy bicep over your stomach, keeping you there at his mercy.

You felt that sinful tongue run through your folds again, his thick beard scratching your thighs adding whatever sensations you were feeling to new heights. Then he pulled out his fingers so he could fuck you with his tongue now. Your third orgasm coming like a runaway freight train. You felt your toes curl as your third orgasm washed over you making you lift from the bed like Andy was performing an exorcism on you.

You felt tears in your eyes as you tried again to pull away from Andy’s touches feeling your thighs tremble uncontrollably now but Andy wasn’t stopping not until he got what he wanted from you; not until he got an answer for why Neil thought he could put his hands on what didn’t belong to him.

“Fuck Andy! Stop!” you sobbed. “He just came up to me. I didn’t want to make a scene about some guy putting his hand on my arm so I didn’t do anything about it. I knew you were right there if I felt uncomfortable and I did; so I left.” you cried out, feeling the tears roll down your cheeks. “Please honey stop.” you sobbed.

You watched in relief as Andy pulled his plump lips away from your aching pussy, and felt your pussy clench at the sight of his beard absolutely drenched in your juices. But your relief was short lived, as you saw the look in Andy’s eyes, the feral look they held in them.

“He made you uncomfortable?”

“Yes, but I came straight to you. Please Andy I can’t take it anymore baby please.” you whined.

“I should break everyone of his fingers for laying a fucking hand on what’s mine.” He said softly, placing chaste kisses on your inner thighs and you let out a small cry. You watched in relief as he climbed up the length of your body, and ladened you with soft hungry kisses, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

“I love you.” he said softly, giving you another soft kiss. “I’m so glad that you felt that you could just come to me when you were feeling uncomfortable. I never want you to feel that way again so next time, you’ll just stay with me the whole time okay?”

You quickly nodded and kissed Andy back. You both just stayed there like that for a minute, him hovering and stretched over your body, ladening you with soft kisses before he pulled away from you and gave you a wicked smile.

“But I think you have one more in you baby.” he said and before you could even react. Andy grabbed the back of each of your legs, bringing you closer to him, before he swiftly impaled you with his achingly hard cock.

Andy set a brutal pace obviously trying to get you off one more time before he loses all control. You let out a high keen, and grabbed onto Andy, your nails raking down his back; a small revenge for him absolutely wrecking you tonight all because of some asshole touching you.

“I’m gonna fill you up so nicely baby. No one will ever have any doubt that you are mine.” he let out a low grown. “And that I’m yours.” he growled leaning down to suck and place kisses on your neck.

Without warning your orgasm crashed over you and you were sure that if Andy wasn’t there pressing down onto you, you would’ve snapped in half from the force of it. As Andy chased his own end, he kissed the tears that were flowing down your cheeks.

“Nothing fucks with my baby.”

#jade tries writing #siris5ksoftdarkchallenge #Andy barber x reader #andy barber x fem reader #chris evans charcter #andy barber oneshot #a very very soft!dark Andy Barber #pretty much NNeil gets the reader in trouble #defending jacob #jadegrey writes #my writing #andy barber #defending jacob oneshot

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angry-geese · 3 years

Text

Sage

nanami kento x reader

warnings: none! sfw. entirely fluff, this will quite literally rot your teeth. gn!reader though there is mentions of them being pregnant. aside from that gn pronouns are used.

notes: some dad!nanami and domestic fluff

word count: 1,435

Nanami settled into being a father better than he thought he would.

You were another jujutsu sorcerer, working with Gojo at the time. Your meeting with Nanami was only by chance. The two of you bonded over bullying Gojo. Though you found him much less annoying than Nanami did, you still made it known how you didn't appreciate his antics.

Slowly you wormed your way more into his life. The two of you frequented the same bakery. Early mornings turned into getting pastries together. You offered to pay the first time. He had your order memorized. He picked up little things about you that you hadn't even noticed yourself. Nanami was observant. He didn't intend to memorize these things—he wasn't certain why he was watching you—but he did. The one day you showed up late he had your order waiting for you in his arms. Since you were still under the impression he didn't like you, it was surprising.

The next day he had your order waiting for you.

No matter how many times you offered to pay him back, he always refused. Reluctantly he enjoyed your company. Though you weren't officially partners, Gojo usually ended up sending you on the same missions. Working together turned into spending time together outside of work. Much of your free time was spent at his home, or him at yours. The two of you were inseparable.

Nanami made it known he'd never date a coworker. He was awfully vocal about his distaste for work. The last thing he'd ever want was his personal and work life crossing over. But he made an exception for you.

He realized he was too far gone when he couldn't imagine life without you.

You were always calm and collected and strong in a way he could respect. The jujutsu world was never kind to you, but you took whatever it threw at you with grace. He respected you before he liked you. But when he fell for you, he fell hard.

His confession wasn't anything grand, but he still tried to make it special. After a mission, he invited you out to dinner. The place was a bit fancier than what you usually went to. He insisted it was a special occasion.

Nanami was almost too nervous to get his confession out, but after a few drinks he managed.

To be honest, you were under the impression you were already dating.

Dating wasn't all that different from the way things were before. You were a bit more affectionate around him. You had no problems with draping yourself over his form. Or giving him a kiss without warning. Anything to bother him while he worked. You two would move in together almost instantly.

His plan always was settling down. The idea of a family was scary, but appealing. The typical life of a jujutsu sorcerer—or any normal life at that—wasn’t for him.

From the beginning he wanted kids. You did too—eventually—there was a mutual agreement on it. You weren't exactly trying for one, but you weren't trying to avoid it either. If it happened, it happened, that was your logic. The two of you were well off enough financially to care for a child.

You would find out about your pregnancy not long after.

You didn't tell Nanami for a while. While you knew he would be happy with the news, it never felt like the right moment. You wanted to surprise him with it but the moment to do so never presented itself.

Gojo—of all people—spoiled the surprise. Really it was an accident. You made an offhand comment about missing going to bars. As a joke, he asked: "what? Are you pregnant?"

There was no way you could respond without outing yourself. It was a bit embarrassing that your coworker found out before your husband. Nanami took your silence as a yes.

Upon hearing the news, he was ecstatic.

The second he could, he quit. The jujutsu world is no place for a family. He would be content with never seeing another sorcerer again.

He would hardly leave your side for the next nine months.

Nanami would tag along to each and every one of your doctors appointments. God forbid you lifted something too heavy, or were on your feet too long. He was always on your case about pushing yourself too hard. His presence was suffocating at times, but you knew he meant well. If you wanted it, all you had to do was ask and he’d bring it to you. You tried not to abuse this power too much.

The two of you decided to keep the gender a secret until your child was born.

A few months later you'd have a girl.

Eventually one of you would have to go back to work. Maternity leave wouldn't last forever. Your “normal” job paid enough to support the three of you. You weren't rich, but you made enough to live comfortably. Nanami agreed to stay home and take care of the baby.

He took to being a stay-at-home father better than he thought he would. Being a househusband was a better fit for him than any office work. A deep fear lingers in him that he’ll be a bad parent; the same doubts that any new parent has. He’s not nearly as bad as he says he is. You make sure he knows that.

"She's so little," he says, "am I doing this right?"

The idea of being responsible for such a small and fragile thing scares him.

The tiny bundle rests against his chest. A tuft of soft blonde hair is visible from under her yellow cap. Nanami smooths a hand over her head, fixing her hat. He can't stop the smile that spreads across his face and she chirps happily. Her pudgy fingers reach out and wrap around his much larger one.

"It's a baby carrier, how complicated can it be?" You ask.

The instructions look like they're written in Greek.

He notices your confused look and says a weak: "I told you"

The parts look nothing like the picture. Her baby carrier is a mess of straps and unnecessary clips. You can't tell what parts are spares, or just things you've left out.

It's oddly stressful.

Since when were these things so hard to put together?

"It looks nothing like the picture." He says.

"I mean, it doesn't look wrong." You say, a bit irritated. “As long as it keeps her in one place I think she’ll be fine.”

He fixes her hat one last time.

The walk to the bakery isn't a long one. When you two were looking for a house, you found one nearby. Nanami has your order memorized, and orders for the both of you. He’s made plenty of midnight trips to this place; you had cravings for some pretty strange things. You get your usual order of a coffee, a filled pastry, and a loaf of bread you plan on saving for breakfast tomorrow.

You gather your things and sit on a nearby bench to eat. Although it feels like such a little thing, this feels like the first time you've been out since you had the baby. Being away from work has made you both a bit stir crazy.

"You're dropping food on her head." You say.

A small "oh" leaves his mouth before he picks up the crumb, popping it into his mouth.

"Ken' that's gross."

He looks at you, then down at her, then back to you.

"Yeah."

He smooths a hand over her head. She squeals in delight, her pudgy hands outstretched. Nanami still can't get over how little she is. Months later he's still shocked that something so small is his. He acts like she's the most fragile thing on earth. Constantly you have to remind him that children are a lot more resilient than he thinks. If the baby is crying, he’s usually the first to console her. Even on nights that you offer, he refuses. He’ll stay up for hours reading to her.

He never thought he could love something so much. He presses a kiss to the top of her head, then yours. Moments like this are fleeting. He hates to get sentimental, but moments like this are fleeting. Before you know it, your kid will be all grown up and that thought terrifies him.

You lean your head against his shoulder. He almost seems surprised by it.

“We should hit that bookstore on the way back.” You offhandedly mention.

“Do you have room for more books?” He asks.

No, but you’re getting more anyway.

#jjk x reader #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami #nanami kento #nanami fluff #jjk #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fluff

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interstellargatorskinboots1812 · 3 years

Text

TAPPED INTO YOUR MIND AND SOUL

SUMMARY

Arabella Shelby is tired of the antics of her twin brother Tommy. She hates how she is always left on the back-foot of what is going on. As a fierce and intelligent force to be reckoned with, she knows she is more than capable of dealing with the more unsavoury side of the Shelby Company Limited.

She's made a decision that if Tommy won't allow her to come out of the shadows, then she will make light of her own, elsewhere. But will a deal with the devil be the answer to her problems? Tommy has a proposition for Arabella and one that will see her tied to his most untrusting of business associates. Will Arabella take the plunge and start a new life in Camden, beside the most eccentric and sadistic bread makers and leader of the Jewish Gangs in London, Mr Alfie Solomons?

CHAPTER ONE: Satisfaction Seems like a Distant Memory

She can feel her patience ebbing, like the whiskey reserves behind the bar. Arabella Shelby grinds her teeth and wills the antagonism feeding her veins, to dissipate. The room drowns in the heavy tones of men as they jeer and chat obnoxiously , each having to shout to be heard over the man behind them. Women screech and laugh uproariously trying desperately to gain some favorable attention from any of the rowdy males. Her malachite gaze looks down to her red tipped long nails, holding a now empty brandy glass . She hates the atmosphere and finds the behaviour encircling her to be stifling. Flinching, she ducks away from the spittle flying from the faceless philanderer, trying and failing to impress her. He was a brave man to say the least, she thought. It was rare anyone dared but look at a Shelby sister. Mores the pity she muses, that each of her brothers are too overloaded with their own egos to notice and intervene with a swipe of their caps. The room stinks of tobacco, a thick and heavy film of smog seems to be connecting one body to another as it clings into the air around them. She should already be out of Birmingham, her bags have been packed since the early hours of this morning and the decision to cut out made long before that. Instead she stays in the newly refurbished Garrison, watching the vainglory antics of a family lacerated by their hunger for being high-handed.

Her eyes train on her older brother Arthur, fresh out of jail, as he presses a rolled up note onto the table top and inhales his second blue vial of powder with a determined fury. She surveys with intent as he scrunches his face and presses his fingers to his nose to adjust to the sensation of the toxins traveling into his system.

'Fuck sake, Arthur', she rolls her eyes as her troubled brother stands on the bar and addresses the room under a confident pretension of shouted words. The pub listens eagerly and replies along dutifully and in an orderly fashion to his toasts for the Small Heath Rifles, The Lane Boys and of course, to the Peaky Fucking Blinders. Pulling a wayward wave of blonde hair behind her ear, she scans the doleful faces of the crowd as they raise their glasses, each hanging onto Arthur's words like obedient children.

'The Peaky Fucking Blinders, eh?’ Arabella scoffs under her breath.

'Whose gunna stop us ?'the gravel tone of Arthur spews out. She watches . The time keeper of events from her spot in the corner booth, examining Arthur as he climbs down out of sight, the mask slips as his brow becomes deep set and his expression dulled. She shifts her weight as the leather studs of the booth stab her fiercely in the back. Glancing across the bar to her younger brother, John she observes his dirty and paranoid glances to his wife as he knocks back yet another whiskey. As for her twin, well Tommy was nowhere to be seen. She hadn’t seen him since Epsom earlier that day, when he had told her that he needed to see her urgently for business reasons but then had seemingly disappeared into the ether. Well, she had need to see him urgently too, although he may not like her reasons.

To the outside world the Peaky Blinders were an untouchable force to be reckoned with. Raconteurs racing their way up the crime ladder and vying to be the top of the chain. Money was rolling in and reputation was building, Tommy was making a name for the Shelby Company Limited and a name for himself. However, behind the façade the cracks were springing thick and fast. The family felt fractured and Arabella felt completely disconnected. Dealing with the legitimate side of the business, being a woman within the family, Tommy did not want her getting mixed up into the illegal and dangerous goings on. He would listen to her smart ideas before dismissing them and then re-imagining them with his own. She had begged for Tommy to take her to London to run the start of their empire down there, an ambition that Tommy had staunchly diffused, particularly after what had happened to their younger sister. 'London is no place for a woman like you, it’s heaving with trouble and violence and no sister of mine is going to get caught up in it on my behalf'.

'Pfft and here was me heeding your words of this business being a modern Enterprise that believes in equal rights for women. Those are your words Thomas, or do they only matter when it suits?'

They had argued for days over the matter, of course Thomas had won out and it was Arthur running the show down in London. Upon his arrest, however much it angered Tommy under it’s circumstances, it made his gloating no less bearable when he reiterated that this was why she shouldn't go to the city, Arabella argued back viciously that had she been in charge down there, none of this would have happened because she had a lid on things and was not riddled with the lingering effects of war, mixed with a habit for white powder rotting her faculties.

She could face no more of being on the back foot of what was going on, of having her intelligence shunned and her opinions chewed up and hashed back out in the guise of another. The last few months had been eventful, in the precipice of war with Sabini's Italian gang and in an mistrustful partnership with another, fighting for the dominant control. What good was she to be by being the pretty face at the fucking bookmaker's reception, seemingly in the dark about everything going on beneath the surface.

Unlike her younger sister, Arabella longed to be more involved in the family business, to handle the threats, the plans and the schemes. She knew she was worth more, that she could handle more. She had repeatedly begged Tommy to allow her to be more involved but to no avail. If she couldn’t be more to the family business than somebody who handles it’s books, when it could be seen that she had so much more potential, then she didn’t want to be involved at all. She had made her decision that she would not stand by and be dismissed and so she would wait for Tommy to return to his office and she would tell him she wanted out. Family or no family, her ambitions were being stifled and she would not stand for it any longer.

'Excuse me', she says with a flash of a scowl, pushing at the shoulder of the offending would be suitor to allow her to get up. She manoeuvres the silk crepe of her yellow dress, it's horizontal pointed waistline spiking down like daggers. She couldn't wait to get home and take of the dress. It still smells of smoke from the burning bookie bonfires started by her brother's gang. She wanted to remove every last stitch of Epsom still clinging to her.

Just as she gets to her feet and moves forward, she is hauled back. She glances down to find his fat fingers gripping at her upper arm, fingertips pushing into the flesh.

'Now come on sweetheart, I haven't finished talking to you yet'.

Momentarily, she's startled by the misogynistic manner of his speaking, The moment quickly passes though.

'Ooff!'

The air rushes from his lungs, his stomach moving to a more unnatural position , Arabella uncurls her fist from his diaphragm. His face is turning more scarlet by the second as he desperately tries to suck down more air to get his breath back. Leaning into his ear, she makes her tone curt.

'Call me sweetheart and touch me again and it'll be more than the air I'll take from your chest. Now, fuck off'.

Whipping her red felt hat from the viscid table, she heads for the exit without a sideways glance back. Tommy would see her tonight, alright.

___________________________________

MASTERLIST HERE

TAGLIST: Let me know if you want to be added!

@lokigirlszendaya

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liz-allyn · 3 years

Text

shudder, part 3/6 [agent mobius x gn!reader]

You're undercover on a mission with the team, and Mobius' affinity for cowboy culture is making things unexpectedly difficult.

Part 1 | Part 2

Series Summary: Pre-Loki series. You are one of the most dangerous variants the TVA has ever recovered, but Mobius knows what makes you tick. Five times he made you shudder, and the one time you returned the favor.

Words: 1.6k

Chapter Warnings/Tags: Language, period/canon-typical gun violence, cowboy!Mobius (valid as a warning), mutual pining, flirting, fluffy and fun, at least one naughty thought.

A/N: let me know how you feel about longer chapters!

III.

The next time it happened, it was 1881, and you looked ridiculous.

Your clothes were too tight and the leather smelled like the cattle you were wearing was still alive. You didn’t get to pick your uniform for this mission, and since you were supposed to be deep undercover in an active timeline scenario where reset charges were not permitted, wearing a TVA-issued “Variant” jacket wasn’t going to work.

So now here you were, sweating your ass off in what would one-day become the Las Vegas desert, with your partner wearing a giant 10 gallon hat holding a revolver to your back. He definitely looked ridiculous, and you let him know that. But to be fair, it was almost... cute. Sort of.

Variant T-3051 was the target, this stagecoach robbery at gunpoint was the trap, a Skrull artifact locked in a safe was the bait. And you were technically also bait, disguised as the hapless hostage.

Mobius laid it on extra thick for this one; you were pretty sure he was enjoying himself.

“Easy does it, fellas,” he said in a honeyed voice. “Everyone move nice and slow.” With one hand on your shoulder and one hand on the gun trained on your back, he urged you forward with a gentle double-squeeze near your collarbone. It was a little secret communication between you two. “Keep your hands up where I can see ‘em, sweet thing.”

You struggled not to overtly roll your eyes as you lifted your hands slightly higher. You were 99% sure that Mobius had never held a revolver in his life and probably didn’t know how to fire one. The man’s idea of excitement is debating top historical time periods at lunch with you or fantasizing about jet skis. Or whatever he fantasizes about.

You glanced at the team around you, a mix of Minutemen led by B-15 - on a giant ass horse holding a rifle steady with only her eyes visible behind a black bandana, and a band of outlaw civilians who were T-minus 9 minutes from their destined massacre. The mission, simply, was that one of these people was not like the others.

U-91, also dressed as a Frontierland cast member, barked an order to hand over the chest or else. While he was monologuing on about whatever “else” was, you were scanning the group carefully waiting for the Skrull variant to reveal himself. Or you were, until—

“Hey,” you heard Mobius softly whisper behind you. You glanced to the side without turning around as he leaned closer to you. “Nice work infiltrating the gang.”

You could feel the heat of his breath on the side of your neck, and your stomach was doing something odd because of it.

“Okay,” you whispered back, trying not to move your lips. “Now is an inappropriate time to—”

“Where did you learn to ride a horse like that?” he exclaimed under his breath. “That was incredible.”

You weren’t sure if it was the anxiety of the situation, the harsh sun off the surrounding mountain range, or his praise that was making your skin flush.

“Um,” you softly replied, taken aback that he was actually impressed, “I mean- my aunt used to have this pony ride business. They’d do birthday parties—”

U-91 snapped at you, the talkative hostage, “Hey! I said shut up!”

Mobius reared back his grip on your shoulder and suddenly you crashed back into his chest. You cried out as he wrapped his arms like a vise around you.

“That’s right, I said shut your trap!” he hissed at you, playing to the audience around him.

It wasn’t often that he got to play the bad guy, but he gave it a valiant effort. You could feel the (hopefully) unloaded barrel against your back. He brought his other hand up to your throat, firmly squeezing, pulling a gasp from you.

He leaned into your body, pulling you tightly against him, as he dripped sugar-coated poison in your ear. “Not another peep outta you, ya hear?”

The first thought that sprang through your head was remembering your kink for authoritative bad boys.

Uh-oh, was the second, third, and fourth thought in your mind.

Your core was tight and you realized how heavily you were breathing when his grip loosened slightly from your throat, slipping down just a tad. You felt the warmth of his hand and resting on the skin of your chest. B-15 was already giving orders, but your brain wasn’t following the conversation anymore.

“Are you okay?” Mobius breathed in your ear. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You slowly exhaled the heat of your breath, shaking your head ‘no’ and ‘yes’ for some reason. You could feel your pulse thrumming in your neck and you knew he could feel it too.

“Did I scare you?” he asked, inquisitively. You could hear the edge of a grin in his voice.

Your brow furrowed. “What?”

“Did I scare you just now?” Your eyes darted back to the group of outlaws as B-15 began to round them up. You were definitely supposed to be paying attention to the mission, but all you could think about was how heavy his hand was on your chest. He could curl you into himself if he wanted to.

If he wanted to, and if you wanted him to, he could keep playing cowboy outlaws. He could steal you away from your bed in the middle of the night. Or maybe he could turn you in for a bounty and visit you while you’re locked in a jail cell, making you do favors for him in exchange for freedom…

Uh-oh.

He leaned in a little closer. You could feel the shadow of his lips at the nape of your neck. “I felt you shudder just now... Did you get scared?”

“No!” You replied, almost too loudly.

“Oh. Are you cold?”

“What? Why?”

“I mean, if you’re trembling and it’s not because you’re cold, and it’s not because you’re frightened, there must be some kind of reason, right?”

Your face was burning. You’re pretty sure it’s the sun. Heat stroke. You’re dying, probably, definitely, maybe.

You gritted your teeth. “Why. Are. We. Talking about this?!”

“It’s not me, is it?” he replied coolly, like taking a sip of bourbon and lemonade on a hot day. You could hear the smirk on his lips. “You’re not intimidated by me, are you?” His cast his eyes over your rosy cheek with a satisfied gaze. “Maybe I make you a little... nervous?”

“WHA’THUH HELL—?” A terrified twang rang out and you both were snatched out of the clouds. You looked up to see a green-faced cowboy, cow-Skrull? Skrull-boy? - hostile variant reach into the the side holster of one of his outlaw posse. As soon as the Skrull had his hands on his “partner’s” weapon, he shot his partner through the back, killing him (just a few minutes before his time).

Variant T-3051 was fast. As B-15 fired her rifle, he was already pulling another stunned outlaw in front of him as a shield. T-3051 raised his gun towards B-15 and fired towards her horse. The animal raised up on its hind legs, bucking her off.

“Take cover!” Mobius ordered, pulling you down with him, but there wasn’t much around.

T-3051 fired a shot blindly, striking U-91 in the arm. He dropped to the ground and crawled in a one-arm dash for cover.

In the chaotic confusion and fear, the other outlaws drew their weapons and began to fire on the TVA team and each other.

The horse that B-15 was riding began to trot off, trampling a fleeing outlaw. B-15 struggled to grab her weapon off of the ground, but T-3051’s boot dropped down on the rifle, pinning it beneath his foot. She looked up to see the barrel of T-3051’s gun pointed at her, sights trained.

You had already grabbed the single-action revolver out of Mobius’ hand. He reached for you, but you leapt out of hiding with his gun raised high.

You shot the gun out of the variant’s hand before he could fire. Stunned, T-3051 dropped backwards onto the ground as the other handful of living outlaws turned their attention towards you. With one hand rapidly pulling back the hammer as the other hand steadied your aim and squeezed the trigger, you knocked them down like bowling pins.

A few shots later and it was over. T-3051 attempted to crawl towards the stagecoach, but B-15 leapt on his back and collared him. With a push of the button, he was frozen in time.

“Target acquired,” she stated into a radio, winded from the skirmish.

Mobius jogged towards U-91 as he pulled himself to his feet. He deftly inspected the Minuteman’s injury. “U-91 is injured,” he reported into his own communications device. “Alert the infirmary. B-15?”

“All clear,” she nodded.

Mobius’ eyes searched the area frantically until they rested on you. You walked up to the safe as B-15 retrieved the alien artifact - a twisty, metallic, (oddly) phallic-shaped thing.

You snorted. “This is the bomb that could rip a planet in half?” you asked incredulously.

If you didn’t know any better, you thought you saw the tiniest smile on B-15’s lips. She radioed in, “Artifact is secure.”

Grinning with an amused chuckle, you glanced over and spotted Mobius gazing at you proudly, watching the sun rise and set in your smile. You felt your cheeks flush, dropping your eyes to the ground and biting your lip. God, this was bad. He could not look at you like that.

“Incredible,” you heard him breathe.

Part 4

A/N: Did you like it? Reblog & let me know! Also seriously, I feel like my chapters are getting long. If that’s a bummer for anyone, please say so.

@aloyssia @generalhugzzz

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bigasswritingmagnet · 3 years

Text

Seek a Little Strange and Unusual

Fandom: Psychonauts Pairing: None Characters: Caligosto Loboto, Chloe Barge Summary: One day at the grocery store, Loboto overhears two parents discussing their...problem child. It's a very familiar sounding conversation. He may not understand why, but he won't let history repeat itself. Chloe isn't particularly fond of her human caretakers. The dentist who smuggled her out of the store is strange...but so is she. And he, at least, understands the importance of space helmets on alien planets.

[don’t make tumblr funnyposts about headcanons guys because you WILL become attached to them]

Cucumbers, lighter fluid, toothpaste, apple sauce, quick rise yeast, mineral oil...

Almost everything! All that was left was condiments. Except...had he written ketchup, or catsup? Did it matter? Of course it mattered, they were totally different things! Weren't they? Well, they had different names.

Lobot stared between the bottle of catsup and the scribbled list, trying to read his own handwriting.

"No, no! Put it down--Chloe put that down right now."

Ooooh, drama! He loved drama. Loboto poked his head around the corner of the aisle in time to see a small child standing on their tiptoes, arms outstretched to the cereal boxes on the upper shelf. A brightly colored box of sugar pretending to be a nutritious breakfast was wrapped in a purple glow and descending, slowly.

A woman materialized next to the girl. Her face was tight with anger and she snatched the box out of the air. Shoving it back on the shelf she hissed "What did I tell you? How many times do I have to say it, Chloe! Don't do that! Especially not in public! And I told you take that stupid helmet off when we're in the store!"

The child's response was unintelligible, muffled by the space helmet they were indeed wearing. He wondered what the big deal was. It wasn't the 1940's; nobody cared if you wore a hat in public anymore. Just look at him! He was wearing his showercap and no one had said a word! They just left the aisle as soon as they saw him.

“Take it off, now!”

A man appeared and grabbed the woman's arm.

"Keep your voice down, people are going to come see what the fuss is."

The woman rounded on him, her expression one of frantic desperation.

"I can't do this anymore."

I just don’t care anymore.

"I can't deal with this, the helmet and the moving things around--!"

He’s a monster!

"I know, I know--"

Soon we’ll be free of this devil child.

"I don’t know how much longer I can put up with this! If I have to deal with one more dismantled radio, one more time trying to get her to take it off for company, one more bent spoon--"

Every! Spoon! Bent!

"I've been asking around, and Johnson knows someone who can do a procedure that’ll fix her--"

They all agree on the diagnosis and what must be done.

He felt strange. Cold and hot and angry and...sad. The child didn't seem to notice the conversation. She was trying to float the cereal box back down again. She probably didn't understand what it all meant. She was young. Very young.

Younger than he had been.

He hadn't understood either, until it was too late.

The humans were arguing again. They were always arguing these days. Arguing about such petty problems, when they could be focusing on the whole galaxy around them. She ignored them. It wasn't like they listened to her anyway. How many times had she explained to the woman why she needed to wear the helmet whenever she left the hermetic seal of her room? It never mattered.

The box of Chocolate Frosted Sugar Bombs landed gently in her hands. Excellent. She would slide it into the cart under the frozen peas. By the time they got to the cash register, the woman would be bound by social convention to make the purchase, or risk making a scene in front of the cashier.

Chloe still hadn't figured out what making a scene meant. The term was definitely in regards to public behavior, but was applied to anything from yelling in public to silent refusal to remove her helmet. Human rules were so strange and arbitrary.

The boxes in front of her rustled. Chloe tilted her head to one side. Odd. Sometimes things around her moved on their own, but usually she got that strange tingle in the back of her head when they did. She wasn't feeling it now.

The boxes of cereal parted, excess tumbling off the ends of the shelves. Two small lights gleamed in the newly made gap. One red, one green.

A metal claw shot out, grabbed Chloe by the shirt, and hauled her through.

She had half been expecting to be pulled into another dimension, but instead she was just in the next aisle. There was no time to feel disappointed before she was dumped unceremoniously in a grocery cart. Someone loomed over her, but Chloe only got the impression of blue skin and flowers before the stranger scooped up half a shelf's worth of bags of macaroni and dumped them on top of her.

It didn't hurt. She could breathe fine with her helmet protecting her face--see, she wanted to say, I told you I needed it--but she couldn't move very much. The cart rattled and bumped, one wheel squeaking obnoxiously. They paused briefly, and Chloe considered shouting for help, but didn't. She wanted to see where this was going.

So she stayed quiet and still, holding the box of cereal to her chest as a cheerful voice cried "No need to do your beeping scans! I know what I bought! Keep the change!"

Then they were off again. The sounds around her changed as they left the store and rattle bumped their way through the parking lot. She heard a trunk open up, and decided now was a good time to figure out what was going on. She had no interest in riding with the groceries.

Chloe made the purple glow around her hands and pushed until the groceries around her lifted enough for her to move. She popped out from beneath the macaroni like a beach ball being released underwater.

The stranger was. Strange. Very tall. The lights Chloe had seen were his eyes--or rather, small tubes where his eyes should be. They twitched and turned independently of each other. He was smiling at her, and his smile seemed to stretch much, much further than most human smiles.

He was wearing a labcoat and a shower cap.

"Hello!" he said. "I'm going to kidnap you and raise you as my own so your parents can't stick an icepick in your brain to take away your psychic powers!" He tapped his chin, brow furrowing. One of his arms was made of metal, and ended in three claws. "Although I already did that first part, so...I have kidnapped you and am going to raise you as my own so that your parents can't stick an icepick in your brain to take away your psychic powers!"

Chloe considered this with some alarm. She didn't know what an icepick was, but she was sure she didn't want anything stuck in her brain. Psychic powers? Ah. That would explain the purple glow. Her caretakers had been very frustrated by it. But could she believe that they would stick things in her brain just so they could be less frustrated?

Yes. She could believe.

Her chest hurt. The macaroni was heavier than she first thought.

"Will you let me wear my helmet?" she asked.

"Of course!" He patted his showercap. "Headwear is a very important personal choice!

Chloe thought some more.

"This is acceptable," she said, and lifted her arms. The stranger stared at her. Neither of them moved for several seconds.

"What are you doing."

"You need to lift me up."

The stranger stuck his hands under her armpits and did so, holding his arms fully extended out in front of him. She dangled in the air, up, up, so high up, higher than she'd ever managed on a swing, and without the heavy weight of rope and swing seat to remind her she was pinned to this mudball planet. She felt weightless, floating, a dizzyingly wonderful feeling.

They stayed like that for several moments.

"Is this what parenting is?" the stranger asked. "It's a lot easier than they made it sound."

Chloe was so high up, her vision extended over the sea of cars, and she spotted her caretakers--former caretakers--rushing out of the grocery store, looking around wildly.

"Put me down," she said. She would have liked to stay up there for longer. For hours. Maybe she could get him to do it again later. The man used to do it all the time, before the arguing started. The stranger set her feet on the pavement, and began to toss the cart's contents into the trunk without any care for fragility. He did not seem particularly rushed or concerned, for all that he said he was kidnapping her. And wasn't kidnapping illegal?

The car was nothing like the sleek blue sedan her parents drove. The man washed it obsessively, and acted as if you had removed an organ if you so much as borrowed a single sparkplug, even if the project was important.

Not only did this car look as if it hadn't been washed, ever, it also looked like it might dissolve if you tried. It was mostly rust held together by duct tape. The car was decorated in strange patterns picked out by objects hot glued to the sides: rubber ducks, dice, plastic flowers, and many, many teeth. From the looks of it, mostly Odocoileus virginianus and Procyon lotor, although she had to wonder about some of the molars.

"Chloe!" someone shouted. "Chloe, where are you!"

Chloe opened the door of the car and climbed inside. There was a moldy grey blanket on the car seat. She unfolded it and draped it over herself. It smelled like seaweed and toothpaste. She tried to look as much like a non-child lump as she could.

The trunk closed. Through the thin blanket she saw the shadow of the stranger--her new caretaker--lean over her. He wound all three seatbelts across her, pinning her to the seat.

"Safety first!" he said.

The car's engine whined and groaned and the calls got closer. They wouldn't be able to see her under the blanket. She was hidden. It was safe.

All the same, she felt a rush of relief when the engine finally growled to life. The car shot backwards and then came to an abrupt halt with a crash and the tinkle of glass. The seatbelts held her so fast Chloe didn't even move.

"Whoopsie!" the man said. The car lurched forwards and came to another abrupt halt with another crash. "Sorry!" Forward. Smash. "Oopsie daisy!" Back. Crash. "Almost got it!"

This time when the car sped forward, it did not stop, although Chloe did hear a scream and a bump as they turned a sharp corner.

"There we go!"

Chloe waited a few more minutes before working her arms free and pulling the blanket down from over her helmet. The car was zipping down the road, swerving violently between the other cars. In the space of three minutes they shot through two red lights. Her new caretaker was humming an offkey ditty to himself, as if he was taking a casual stroll through the park.

"Who are you?" Chloe asked.

"I am Dr Calligosto Loboto! The greatest dentist in the world!" He threw out an arm dramatically and his claws punctured the roof of the car. She could see many similar holes clustered in the same area.

"My name is Chloe. I hail from the planet Cygnus A."

"Ooooh, you're an alien! That explains the helmet! You better keep that thing on, I don't want you suffocating in our atmosphere!"

Chloe couldn't name the feeling in her chest, except that it was a good one.

"That's what I kept telling them! Just because I can breathe your air doesn't mean it doesn't have a detrimental effect on my lungs!"

"Of course!" the doctor said, genuinely annoyed. "That's Alien 101! Boy, your parents are weird."

"They aren't my parents," Chloe said, firmly. "They're my human caretakers. They were looking after me while I'm on the planet. Someday my real parents will return for me, and take me back to the home planet."

"Makes sense to me! I wonder if that makes this less of a felony."

#caligosto loboto #psychonauts #chloe barge #i have...no excuse #i can't decide if i want to make like a whole thing out of it so here you go for now #pre-canon fic

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fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

I have a request. :) What if coops were watching a scary movie together and Sirius is getting actually scared so he is just trying not to watch and cuddle into Remus instead. But he is too embarrassed to ask Remus to turn it off so he just tries to suffer through it. You can decide if you want Remus to notice and turn it off and comfort him or not. Thank you for all of your amazing writing!

This is such a cute ask, and lots of fun to write! Thanks for suggesting it <3 Coops credit goes to @lumosinlove, but Hattie is mine!

TW for mentioned blood and gore (in the movie) and general fear

“That’s a lot of blood,” Remus remarked.

Personally, Sirius thought that was a bit of an understatement considering the gorefest happening on the screen, but he had been terrified into silence twenty minutes before and simply nodded in response.

The shrieking, wailing, and rending of various body parts continued. Hattie whined and buried her nose further into the small of his back. Smart girl, Sirius thought, cuddling just slightly closer to Remus’ side. The horror movie had been a last-minute, pick something or we’ll both be frustrated decision—now, an hour into the worst television experience of his life, he regretted every choice he had made that led them to this spot.

He turned to place a kiss just below Remus’ ear. If it also served to hide his face from the literal demonic entity that just popped out of nowhere…well, that was nobody’s business but his own. “Hey, I’m kinda tired,” he mumbled, though every nerve was alight with fear and he wasn’t sure his eyelids would ever shut again.

“Oh?” Remus kept his gaze on the screen. I love you, but you confuse and terrify me.

“Mhmm. How much is left?”

Remus picked up the remote; half a second before he paused, one of the lead characters got fucking stabbed in the back by something that had not been there mere moments earlier. Sirius jolted, stifling a shout of surprise. Remus remained absolutely still. “Whew, that was a good one,” he said mildly as Sirius struggled to regain control of his stuttering heartbeat. “Just under fifty minutes left.”

Why am I doing this? Sirius wondered internally. I have nothing to prove.

“The effects are pretty impressive, huh?”

Sirius hummed vague assent.

“No CGI or anything. Pretty cool.”

“No, yeah, definitely.”

Bones weren’t supposed to do that. Kids certainly weren’t supposed to bend like that. Sirius’ mouth was drier than desert sand and he gave up on dignity, squishing himself as close as possible under the safe haven of Remus’ arm. “The, uh—” Remus was interrupted by a blood-curdling scream that froze Sirius from the inside out. He cleared his throat. “The—I heard the director has been trying to make this for ages. It was in the newspaper last week and everything.”

“Was it?” Sirius’ voice sounded weak even to his own ears.

“Uh-huh.” Please keep talking, please keep talking, please keep talking. “Sorry, I’m probably ruining this for you.”

“No, you’re all good.” You are the only thing keeping me from crawling under the blankets with the dog.

They lapsed back into silence and Sirius squeezed his eyes shut as what was left of the main group turned their backs to the basement. The creepy-ass door was going to open—yep, there’s the creak—and then they were going to go down the rickety staircase, and then everyone was either going to die or be traumatized for life. No matter how formulaic it was, Sirius still felt ice trickle down his spine.

The next forty-five minutes passed at a glacial pace. More blood than Sirius could have imagined spattered the set, and he had stopped trying to follow the plot entirely so he could zone out instead. “Ready for bed?” Remus asked as the credits rolled, sounding entirely unfazed. Hattie crawled into their laps with a soft snuffle. “Oh, lovey, were you scared?”

Yes. “Poor thing,” Sirius cooed with as much control as he could muster, lifting her up to hide his shaky arms. Remus ducked into the kitchen to put away the popcorn bowl; as soon as he was out of earshot, Sirius leaned down and kissed her forehead. “You and me both, ma petite. You’re sleeping on the bed with us tonight.”

“What?” Remus called from the kitchen.

“Oh, nothing.” He set Hattie down. “I’ll be upstairs when you’re done.”

Sirius made it to the base of the staircase, then paused. The hallway at the top was dark; fear prickled the back of his neck. There’s no such thing as demons, he told himself, grabbing the bannister. His palms were sweating. Nothing to be afraid of. “Honey?”

“Merde!” he yelped, letting go as if it had burned him.

Remus gave him a look of alarm. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just—” He flailed a hand around, pulse pounding in his throat. “Just thought I saw a spider. Startled me.”

“…alright.”

He turned the lights on as soon as they reached the landing. Sirius had never been so grateful for the power of modern electricity. The hall was just as they had left it, looking ridiculously normal and unthreatening—embarrassment reddened his cheeks as he changed into his pajamas. Scared of your own house? Really?

Well, that wasn’t quite true—he wasn’t scared of the house itself, just the murderous entities that may or may not be living in the dryer vents. That was all.

He was feeling better until Remus turned the lights off and slipped into bed beside him, leaning over for a ‘goodnight’ kiss. “Sleep well, baby,” he said, resting his temple on Sirius’ shoulder.

“Love you.”

The trees swaying outside looked like long, bony fingers; if he concentrated, he could hear low weeping in the wind. Sirius felt an irrational fear rise when he tried to close his eyes and focus on Remus’ slow breaths—what if he woke up and there was something in the doorway? What if he had nightmares? What if his fear wasn’t irrational at all, and there was an omen he was missing—

“Sirius?”

“Yeah?” he whispered back.

Remus hesitated, then exhaled through his nose. “Can we turn the light on?”

“Oh, thank fuck,” Sirius said around a sigh of relief. “Yes. Also, please never suggest a horror movie ever again.”

“I hate them,” Remus confessed as they sat up. “I saw a commercial for The Conjuring in seventh grade and had nightmares for two full months.”

“Why did you recommend it?”

“I thought you liked them!”

“I was about to hide under the couch!” Sirius laughed, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. “Mon dieu, that was the w—holy shit!”

The fuzzy thing under his foot made a high-pitched noise and moved; Sirius scrambled back with a strangled shout, nearly toppling them both over the other side. Remus clung to him as they both shrieked in sheer panic until the only sound was their heavy breathing. The shadow by the edge of the bed shifted again, then whined.

Sirius groaned, releasing his death grip. “Really, Hat Trick?”

“You’re kidding.”

“Viens ici.” He patted the side of the bed and the blob of inky black hopped up, then settled at the foot of the bed with an indignant huff. “Did I step on you?”

Hattie grumbled and stretched her long body across the mattress. Remus turned the bedside lamp on, pinching the bridge of his nose as he shook his head. “Well, that was mortifying.”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep, but I don’t really want to go back downstairs.”

Remus laid on his back and held out his arms. “Cuddles?”

“You read my mind.”

They snuggled up to each other as tight as they could, leaving only a sliver of space between their bodies as Hattie warmed their feet. Sirius kissed the top of Remus’ head once before closing his eyes once more; they laid in silence for a moment longer, then let out twin sighs as he pulled the covers all the way up to their necks to create a cocoon of warmth and safety. The soft glow of the lamp chased away the shadows, and within a few minutes he fell into a dreamless sleep.

#fanfic #my fic #sirius black #remus lupin #lumosinlove #sweater weather #coops #wolfstar #scary movie #horror #hattie

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oh-for-fic-sake · 3 years

Text

Deliverance Chapter Three

Masterlist

Summary: That time has come to sort through the artefacts that have been sent to earth with you, and Clark finds he is less and less impressed with how krypton was governed.

Warnings: Suggestive themes, Fluff,Angst, A/B/O, Mating mentioned, Heats mentioned, Swearing

Wordcount: 14000+

A/N; so this chapter is mostly information and backstory. I rewrote kryptons history becuase... I wanted to? Yeah any way i hope you all enjoy even it it drags.

Taglist: in reblogs

The days that followed were strange, you had gotten used to earth and its strangeness. You were also spending as much time outside as you could, soaking up the sun rays and laying in the grass, sometimes walking through the fields. Martha even had you helping her with some flowerbeds 'weeding' humans were funny creatures. The white and pink flowers were acceptable but the little fluffy yellow ones and tiny blue ones were not? They were 'weeds' and had to be pulled from the ground. Martha had given you a strange look when you asked to keep them but got you a little trough all the same and helped you plant your weeds. They lived on your windowsill and you watered them every morning. Clark found it cute and even added some to it wanting to help.

You felt much better now and your breathing had settled. It was bliss residing with your alpha. You'd learned that he had a job as a reporter- a news writer. Those things weren't really mentioned at home which surprized you when you realised just how important they were and how much time it took up. And speaking of importance, you got your papers! Your official human documentation. A certificate of birth, because humans rewarded their young with paper on their birth you found it funny but your new family had been adamant you were given this reward for being birthed. You also got a number for social security recognition, a schooling achievement diploma? And a passport? So you could fly? Which didn't make much sense to you when you could do that anyway... Or would be able to once you were completely acclimatised to this planet. It had been Clark's friends- A bat who arranged it all, which was nice... If not odd you thought a bat was a winged mammal but perhaps there was a different bat hybrid you wasn't aware of. You were now unofficially, official in your human life.

When Clark was away you missed him, but didn't? Martha kept you busy, filling in the holes of your earthly education. You found her to be a sweet and funny woman, she was wholesome and kind. Never once shying away from you like you had expected. You lived with her for the moment a spare room in the farm house had been converted for you. For some reason she would not let you stay in the same room as your mate, she said it was a human thing. Not that, it stopped Clark from sneaking in at night and curling up in the bed with you soothing you and kissing you. He would always chuckle with you stating 'he wasn't human so its okay' whilst snuggling you sweetly scenting and murring at you until you fell asleep. You never felt safer then in the arms of your alpha, snuggling tight against him pressing kisses to his chest and rubbing your cheek on the curls that covered it, digging your nose into them and sniffing, breathing him in falling asleep.

Your bond was growing stronger and stronger as the days past, even if you only managed a few hours at night and in the morning with him. Clark had to explain some strange things, for some reason you were both to wear a ring? When humans found their mates they gave each other rings and wore them on the left ring fingers it meant they were mates? Married? Martha had been a little upset over it at first but Clark said it was best to do it this way, you could have your wedding later, for now he will wait. Martha had been persistent but in the end gave up, it was hard for her to face the reality that her son was not human and he was trying his best.

You were happier then you thought you'd be on a alien world, you'd acclimatised for the most part and found your own earthling way. Even if Martha and Clark found it strange you refused to eat anything brown or plain. Or meat.

The concept of eating animals was very disturbing for you. On krypton animals were not eaten, well not animals like on earth. Kryptonian's ate what earthlings would call insects, non sentient beings. But then again the insects here were... Tiny, surprizingly so. But Clark had taken it in his stride, if you didn't want to eat meat he wasn't going to force you... But he made you eat lots of what he called your 'leafy greens'... Which didn't make sense to you because many of the leafy greens should just be called greens because brocca-broccile- baby trees! Didn't have leaves neither did the little green balls! P's? You think he called them p's. Just when you began to loose hope for delicious sustenance he surprized you. Mangoes. You loved mangoes and grapes and apples! Fruit any fruit. Martha and your mate had taken you to a human grocery store and you'd been drawn to the fruit section.

You walked into the store clutching at Clark's arm terrified, it was the first time being out and mingling with other humans. Once inside you looked about seeing a few humans scattered about the isles and relaxed. A wave of smells hit your senses making you cough.

"Breath, breath through it love... That's it good girl, good omega. Now hold on to me or the cart and stay with ma and me" Clark said rubbing your back leading you behind Martha walking past some special buys. After a few short minuets you relaxed and released Clark looking watching as the other humans walked about some with children some teenagers and even a few alone. The children drew your attention. Boys. Real little boys. Flesh and blood male children in little hats and shorts- clothing with cartoon race cars on them. You froze looking in awe. Felt the stutter.

"love?" he asked feeling you halt and tense. He instantly looked up and was on alert every bone in his body itching to protect you. To destroy what had spooked his tiny mate. He looked around for the danger but there was none, just a mother and her sons further down the isle.

"Look... Boys, young boys" you uttered slowly looking to the children holding a brightly coloured packet up to what you presumed was his mother pleading for the packet. The woman smiled and nodded letting them throw the packet into the cart and they continued down the isle.

"Yes love. I forget you've never seen a young boy have you" he hummed wrapping his arms around you from behind kissing the top of your head. You melted into him and shook your head still watching as the humans rounded the corner at the end of the shop.

"what do you think?" Clark whispered sweetly, amused and struck by the way you'd reacted to such a simple sight. A mother and sons, he forgot you'd never seen a boy before. He had been the last one on krypton.

"They... He was beautiful." you uttered slowly blinking still registering the image of a real live breathing male child.

"Ours will be better~ perfectly formed kryptonians a whole swarm" he said making you feel light and carefree, the thought of a litter- a true litter of your own pups made you quiver in anticipation.

"You-you'll give me pups?" you said softly trembling from head to toe. Clark hadn't made any inclination to wanting pups or to take your bond any further then the sweet caresses and cuddles he'd been gifting you. You'd not once spoke of anything beyond getting you settled into human life. Clark grinned awkwardly and nodded, he wasn't used to children being called pups and such, he was still coming to terms with the? Miscommunication between worlds and terminology.

"I will try my hardest, sons and daughters" he chuckled squeezing you tightly and pressed a long kiss to your head nuzzling your hair watching as the family disappeared. His heart swelled. A family, a real family. Children of his own in your little belly, with out fear of them being too much for you to handle. He could relax knowing you could handle their tiny kicks and nudges. You could survive a pregnancy and birth him healthy full term children. He had so many niggling little fears over trying to create himself a family with a human. Humans were weak, fragile, but with you? With you he could be exactly what he was. A kryptonian. A god among men. It was refreshing having someone he could truly relax around.

"Promise?" Came the tiny voice, breathless and pleading, huge doe like eyes blinking at him hopefully glazed in tears. He could feel the tremors through your bond, like someone twanging an elastic band, the vibrations of relief and excitement reaching him, tugging and pulling. It was as if you had feared he wouldn't give you children. And finally he had confirmed it.

"I promise little omega, as soon as I'm able you will be round and heavy~" watching as your eye grew wide and you purred at him rubbing your cheek to his as he craned down to kiss you, then scented him under his jaw. With an adorable flush and melodious gasp you pulled back looking around worried someone would know you'd scented your alpha.

"shh remember humans don't understand, they don't know what you did sweet pea" he uttered trying to sooth you. You had explained that scenting was seen as very private. It was... Like mating- the prequel to meeting, scenting was strengthening your bond and extremely intimate. To be caught doing it out side? It was very frowned upon, on krypton you'd get less disapproval if he fucked you out in the open!

"do not call me a p.. They are wretched things!... Call me... Something yummy" you complained not yet being aware that a sweet pea was a flower... And he wasn't calling you and actual pea.

"I apologise... You can be my little cookie?" he chuckled slowly it wasn't that he was laughing at you but he found it endearing how straight forward you were. If you didn't like something you told him out right. It was a nice change, you didn't seem to understand the whole human political correctness and subtlety. Your reasoning with Clark was that you could both feel the others feelings through the bond, so what was the point in lying. That would just complicate things. And he couldn't argue with your logic.

"what is a cookie?" you asked tipping your head to the side curiously. He did burst out laughing at that and shook his head squeezing you tight. Tighter then any human could handle, but that was part of the beauty in your relationship. You wasn't human, wasn't breakable. He could fully relax and touch you without fear of harming you. You were impenetrable... Well in that sense anyway~

"Something very sweet and delicious I promise~" he said kissing your head once more and ushered you down the isle slowly trying to find his mother, but still let you look around. You were curious and wanted to explore your new home planet and he wont ruin your first venture.

"Clark? Clark come and help me- I cant reach the milk! Its at the back again!" Martha said quietly you smiled. It took a lot of coaxing but you had indeed tried what Clark had explained as 'cow juice' and had developed a taste for it. So Martha had promised you milk every day if you liked. Which you did like. A lot. Clark pressed another kiss to you and walked off towards the milk refrigerators expecting you to follow.

You made to follow but a sweet scent hit you and you stopped mid step. It was wonderful and ripe, sweet and succulent. You pivoted and followed without much thought. Your feet found there way twisting around the display of 'leafy greens' to a bright colourful isle. You salivated at the smells. There were so many intoxicating scents you didn't know what to look at first.

You pressed a hand on a small net package full of strange green fuzzy balls. Kiwi's? You read and scrunched your face up at the peculiar name. Then plucked the bag up and held it to your nose sniffing. They smelled divine, like a type of food from home. Okriin a small sour sweet treat given to children on their birthing date. You sniffed again and almost cried. It was so similar but so different sweeter and fuller in the scent. You cautiously sniffed again and closed your eyes before tentativly prodding it with your tongue wanting to see if it tasted the same.

"y/n? Y/n?!- oh god there you are? What are you doing? You almost gave me a heart attack" Clark said racing towards you his mother behind him with the cart. He slid to a stop and blinked at you. As you scrunched up your nose.

"The texture of these are... Not very nice?" you said naively moving for the fruit again sticking your tongue out once more trying to discern if it was edible like this. Clark moved quickly gasping holding your hands that had the.. Kiwi's in it.

"no, no.. No we- you don't eat them like that... You peel them and eat the inside, and we don't lick things in the shop okay?" he explained with a teasing to his voice. Martha chuckled into her chest she couldn't help it, you were extremely cute.

"But? Then how do you know if you like it if you don't taste?" You frowned as Martha stifled a laugh. But she quickly curbed herself when you looked serious and a little upset. You didn't find it funny food was serious and had always been rationed, you were allowed only the portion you needed to stay healthy back home. Nothing more unless you could grow it.

"You buy it and eat it at home, then we can come and get more" Clark said drawing your attention once more. Your frown deepened. More? You could come back? That didn't sound right... or fair, Martha normally made one trip a week on the same day... wasn't that her alotted time for food shopping? Or was it by choice?

"More? But isn't there rules on how many trips a household makes?" You asked genuinely confused looking from your mate to his mother then back again. They both looked a little shocked by the idea of not being allowed to get food when they needed to. Martha even looked sad, shaking her head looking down.

"No love, there isn't... is there on kry-back home?" Clark asked, he almost sounded offended by the thought of being told when you can and cant go shopping.

"Yes. We have fifteen minuets for every member of your house hold that your shopping for and an alotted time every two weeks to pick up your rations" you said without batting an eyelash. Clark drew a deep breath, he had to admit he didn't like what he was hearing about your shared home planet. He found himself more and more relieved you were here with him and not in that? Authoritarian place.

"Did you lick anything else?" He said trying to move away from the topic, he was trying to get you used to this planet and this was your first time out and about in town. He wanted to move on, to let you be free and explore... preferably with him beside you.

"...If I do can we take it home?" You said tipping your head to him with a cheek grin. He chuckled and rounded you placing an arm around your waist and pokeing under your ribs in a freshly discovered tickle spot making you giggle.

"Silly thing you don't have to lick things for us to buy them, I suppose you liked the smell huh?" He enquired nodding to the Kiwis still clutched protectively in your hands.

"Yes it.. Its like something from home- a treat we had on our birthing day..." you nodded looking down plucking at the bright orange netting that kept four of the fuzzy fruit together.

"Then we shall get two packets love" he said plucking another pack of kiwis and placing them in the cart, he then looked to you as you scanned the isle still indulging in the amazing mix of smells and colours.

"Pick out a few more things to try, the mangoes are nice and juicy I think you'd like them." He said motioning to the colourful sweet smelling displays.

"R-really I can pick some?" You asked nervously twiddling your fingers and pulling onto the sleeves of your top.

"Yes love we don't ration here you can pick a few things to try, just promise me you wont lick any of it... at least not until we get to the car" he said grinning as you nodded enthusiastically looking around suddenly full of childish glee. God help him when you try some candy, he has the feeling you'll have a sweet tooth.

"I promise!" You said happily and ran off to some of the other fruit that smelt divine and quickly picked a few.

Once you got home you watched Clark and Martha make a small platter of fruit for you. And you'd fallen inlove! Mangoes and pears were your favourite, you didn't like grapefruit and should have listened when they told you not to eat a lemon... lemons were for juicing and flavouring other food, not for eating.

You smiled as you mulled over the day, that was the first day you saw the civilisation of your new home. Humans were free and unorganised. Chaotic but at the same time had made their own way to navigate the chaos of their world and one another. They were very similar to your kind. But it was hard, frightening! Suddenly you could do what you wanted when you wanted. Krypton in its desperation had taken many choices away, even the basic ones. Like how much food you could have per household, how many times you could visit the shopping districts or medical bays. You had laws on how much water you used, who could go where and when. and suddenly all that structure- all those rules were gone. You were to do as you pleased?

It was a frightening concept.

You padded across the small space to the barn with tentative steps, quivering knees. Clark was behind you a few feet trying to give you space, yet at the same time he was pressing himself though the bond. Warm and comforting reassuring you. He had learned in the past week that he could send messages through the bond. Almost whispers it was weird you didn't hear anything but you could feel his words, feel his probing. His soul was apart of you and your soul apart of him now. And you could communicate in such a deep way it- you almost felt as if you were one being.

Today you had decided to go through the ships cargo hold and start removing some things up to your room. It had been something you put off but it was time to begin answering more questions, time to give our alpha his heirlooms and books. Your job now was to help him learn all about krypton and its past.

Clark darted forward opening the doors to the barn letting you and Martha in. You'd decided to let Martha help, she deserved it she was your surrogate mother now after all. Last week she'd started asking you to call her Ma too.

You moved towards the tarp covering the ship and pulled at it making the crinkling plastic fall the inched forward pressing a hand to the door to the pod. You froze, flashes of the moment you'd been wrestled into the pod crossed your mind. The fear and agony of knowing you were going to be there end. Kill your parents. But it was to late, it had been too late then and it was too late now.

"Omega? Are you alright?" Clark said standing behind you curling one arm around your frame, the thick forearm resting over your tummy at your waist.

"Yes, its... The last time saw this was when" you trailed softly, you knew he could feel the fear and despair as you replayed those final moments with your family over and over. You hand been strong enough to hold on to your mother or father. You hadn't had enough grip to pull them into the ship with you, and your lack of strength cost them their lives.

Clark murred into your shoulder, his other hand stretching out smoothing his palm over yours pinning it you the surface of the door. He could taste the anxiety, the overwhelming frantic terror that had overcome you as your bond soured your memories haunted you. In the night you'd cry out for them and jolt awake sobbing your heart out. But you'd never spoke about what ha actually happened.

"D-do you want to talk about it?" He said quietly pressing his chest to your back needing to touch his sweet omega, the overwhelming drive to comfort you was almost painful.

"I don't think it would help... I shouldn't feel bad, its what i had been commissioned for. We all new our purpose" Clark paused. What? You had barely spoke about krypton, but from what you had mentioned he had a very... unimpressed view of it. The world sounded totalitarian and harsh everyone leading a hard life of duty. But he had never pushed you, he could tell you still mourned the planet despite its shortcomings.

"C-commissioned? Purpose? What do you mean?" Martha muttered moving closer to you both. She too was curious, her and Clark never thought they would have this chance, that they could learn everything about the planet of his birth or his race. But you were it. Their answers a living breathing kryptonian that had resided on krypton! You knew everything they wanted to know and probably more. They had been trying to hold back their questions it would seem that you may finally be up to answering them.

"Krypton is... Was like... North Korea? The one shut off from the world? But... stranger, its hard to explain without knowing our history we had our reasons and failures" you trailed off, you was unsure where to start, the troubled past of your race was woven into its present, well not present as today but... the final era of krypton. Everything leading up to the day you were shipped off from the planet. There were complications, twists and turns that you might not be able to explain properly.

"Please, I'd like to know" his voice was small and sweet, almost naïve in a sense. You got the feeling of a curious desperation from your bond. It made you grin, he was trying so hard to hold back for your sake, he truly was the perfect mate both considerate and loving, there was a gentleness about him that many alphas are said to have lacked. It must come from being raised on this planet, growing up around being so much weaker then he is that has moulded him to hold such a sweet sense of nurturing. After all your mate was the golden son, a living breathing god on earth.

"I know... come I have books and artefacts in the cargo hold, I will give them to you and you can read" you said with a shy smile, you warm giddy feelings traveling along you bond making him murr once more managing to hit the all important melodious sound that was the unique soul song you'd both began naturally harmonizing. You stood and pulled from Clark and walking a small way down the ship. You pulled a hidden hatch open jerking a lever up and then pulled and twisted before releasing. You were quite impressed at how easily you'd done it. The suns rays had made you immensely strong already. Soon your be flying hopefully!

Clark hovered over you, making sure to stand in between the ship and his mother. A large gust of air and a whirring sound resounded and you stepped back. There were several clunk's and metallic creaks then the whole side of the craft pealed away like a set of curtains a thick corsetina of metal revealed a large cargo hold the three of you could just fit in.

There were shelves and cases piled high inside. All of krypton's most valuable artefacts, your whole history in the small stalagmite keys. Just like the one Clark had been sent to earth with. But these held information, schematics of incredible tech, medicines and encyclopaedia's. Not only about krypton but other planets and races that could cause a threat.

The there were the texts for your pups. The very same you had used to study as a child. You tip toed inside looking around feeling your heart break. This was all that was left of a whole civilization. A case of ceremonial robes, some crown jewels. Seeds for a few important plants- even a small rack with some mature plants that were being grown in a small self sustained pod. It was a true treasure trove.

"Wow this is? Incredible"

"Everything in here is... significant to our kind- here these are the books to start with they will tell you what krypton went through... a child's guide to our history" you said scooping up the books you'd studied and handed them to Clark. He moved slowly taking them from you running his fingers over the image on the book.

You walked off around a small shelf trying to find your chest- the things your parents had been allowed to pack for you. You had to find it and get over those emotional tugging in your chest. You had a lot to explain and had to have a clear head on your shoulders.

Martha stood close by the exit as she watched the two of you potter about the ship. It was both frightening and exhilarating for her. She was glad they had thought about all this, about giving both you and Clark things to remember krypton by. She moved to step behind Clark peeking at the book he was flicking through and was surprized to find she could read it. Everything was in perfect English.

"This is? Are they all in English?" She asked turning to you who was still wandering around becoming upset clearly looking for something in particular.

"Yes, they needed to make sure kal-clark would be able to read it" you said comeing around the other side of the shelves and stood beside them both. Clark turned around eyeing the book seeing what looked like propaganda filling the pages. It was disconcerting he was slowly becoming aware that krypton was not the magical place he had envisioned but a very draconian type of civilization. He didn't want to read pages of scripted drivel. He wanted the truth. He closed the book and eyed you then held to book out to you.

"I'd like to learn from you... if its not to much to ask love? These books will paint a rosey picture, I want to know the reality what people actually thought of our planet" he said still offering you the book. You held your breath debating for a moment, but finally breathed out a sigh and took the book from him. Agreeing.

You moved to the side of the ship and sat down letting your feet rest on the steps. Clark and Martha followed your lead taking seats beside you.

You kept quiet for a moment pondering over what was most important to start with. Your evolution. Then your genealogy, the great mistake and population crisis and the laziness that followed. The selfishness and finally his own story, the story of the golden sons escape and the new age. The final short 31 year age. And your delivery.

You opened the page showing some images of the first ever 'proper kryptonians' and held it open letting both Martha and Clark lean over to see. It was like a family story time.

"Okay... So kryptonians evolved just like humans did millions of years ago. But unlike humans we kept more of our animal like instincts, we retained pack mentality" you said pointing out the different images of the evolution.

"Alpha and omega's?" Clark asked curiously as his eyes scanned the page. There was a list for each. Alpha were bigger and stronger, more dominant and protective, fierce and very potent. They were more economic and able to draw more power from little radiation. Omega petite, defensive, skittish and shy. Nurturing and extremely fertile. Submissive.

"Yes and betas they aren't an extreme like omega and alpha. They are more balanced but much less fertile. We have one mate, one soul bond once its made you cant deny it, but its also a problem." You flipped a few pages to the mate bond section where there were a few images of couples and some more little bullet points. Of which you covertly covered, they didn't need to know about sex or knots or heat yet... you would explain to Clark later... alone.

You flushed unable to stop your mind wandering. Images of you finally bonding with Clark, the undulating hips and breathy moans resounding in your ears. All leading to a great finale of his bite, his canines would prick your skin clamping down not only marking you but to hold you still as his cock swelled and pressed your walls tight trapping you to his huge frame. It was said to be painful and euphoric the feeling of absolute unity. Apparantly omegas can panic when their alpha knots them for the first time, the bite would make you freeze and still for him enough to fully penetrate you. He'd knot you for a long while tying you to him both mind body and soul as he saturated your insides claiming your body for himself. You swallowed, nervously. You couldn't wait to finally be claimed, but you were also nervous. He was large even for an alpha and there was no doubt in your minds he was well proportioned.

Clark noticed you begin to blush and squirm, your scent changing becoming both sweeter and musky he leant over you trying to peek at what you were hiding. He snuck a hand around behind you and tried pulling on your elbow to see what your were trying to hide.

"Oh no come on love what are you hiding there?" He teased and pulled tugging you closer making you whine and pull back.

"No that's nothing just its err our sex education and we don't need to go into that yet!" At the mention of sex Clark stiffened and released your elbow but remained wrapped around you.

"Oh right well then.. we know all about that so there no need to... explore that topic" Clark said flushing brightly but you paused... should you tell him?

"Well err you... you will have to there are.. some difference to having sex with... others then your mate, things are... different when your body knows it can impregnate its partner. So you need to err... I've got books for you to read in private" you flustered flicking your eyes quickly from Martha to your mate trying hard not to imagine him but ass naked stroking his cock readying himself to mount you. Clark didn't seem to realise you were becoming nervous and quickly spoke up slightly confused by the way you'd worded your statement. But then again he found a lot of the things you said strange. You wored things differently, and sometimes used the wrong words altogether! As much as krypton prepared you it sort of hadn't? Your English was good but... Not completely accurate.

"Different when you can impregnate? What's that supposed to mean, I've had sex... It was normal human sex" you whined and lowered your head feeling a little upset. Your mate almost sounded offended, like you'd undermined him or doubted his ability... You felt a little shamed over it, you hadn't intended to insult him. You turned to him your panic of displeasing him washed away your nerves of having the sex talk. You rested a hand on his thigh squeezing it before beginning to explain that you wasn't belittling him it was just genetics.

"You cannot conceive with anyone other then your soul mate... It just doesn't happen. Is impossible, we were taught that its because your genes are only compatible with that of your mate, your other half. Pairings aren't always omega and alpha either, they can be anyone with anyone, but most alphas have an omega" you said trying not to go into detail but Clark merly blinked at you nodding wanting you to continue as he soaked up every word.

"And there are... Things that... Happen during sex with your soul mate, your err... Anatomy changes... And err expands? I suppose? Our bodies do what they must to... To try and... Conceive.." you finally stuttered through the images your mind conjured. Mind drifting to all the uncomfortable classes full of giggling girls and unamused teachers explaining knotting and ejaculation with a huge image of a penis on the board... You flushed word on the school playground used to be the size of a balled fist was the size of your mates knot. You swallowed eyeing Clarks hands, though not balled up he had then curled up loosely. You clenched, for some reason the thought of him being such a large male made you very ,very excited and anxious. The larger a male the more chance there was at having a successful mating because he would be deeper and nothing would escape. Fuck.

You shook your head swallowing dryly. Now was not the time, thoughts like that were dangerous and could trigger a heat, something you didn't want to happen until he was aware of what was to come. You wanted him to be fully aware of heats, ruts knotting the full process before in sighting anything. He was still immensely stringer than you, if he were to have you now and panic whislt knotting he could pull free and tear you. And you didn't want that.

"soo i get a... Super erection or something?" he said with a huge smile both teasing and boasting, sitting up straighter unknowingly posturing, preening like a little peacock as humans would say. You made to reply flushing a deeper red, beginning to feel a tad dizzy with all this blood rushing to your head. But luckily Martha interrupted and waved her hands making a slicing motion trying to literally cut the conversation short.

"Right okay! Enough of all that" she said managing to move your arms that were still covering the very crude generic drawings of an alphas cock, you moved letting the human turn the page which lead to the next stage of your peoples history.

"But Ma?!" Clark complained eyes loosing their amused shimmer only for him to pout at the human clearly upset that he wont be having a full sex talk with you. And you couldn't be more thankfull because you only had books and a school sex education to go by, you'd never actually seen a real one before, so didn't really have any grounds to be teaching anyone anything about them. Least of all your much older, more experiance alpha mate.

"But nothing Clark, she said she has a book so you can read the damn book! There will be no hanky panky anytime soon do you understand me?" she scolded in a final motherly tone making you giggle into your hand. Your alpha was very cute when he pouted, blue eyes wide and a perfect downturned frown on his lips, the pink bottom lip pressed forward in a sweet gesture. How the perfectly masculine sharp angular male could be both stunning and adorable was beyond you. But he was just perfect.

"Yes Ma" he sighed looking more and more disheartened but then nudged your side and sent you a wink before raising his brows suggestively. You squeaked and looked to the book in your lap once more feeling your ears go red under his provocative gaze. He huffed a quiet chuckle and purred low in his chest. You felt it the warm yet prickly sensation of your mate. Is was playfull, like when someone lightly ghosts a finger over your inner arm? A slight tickling sensation that made your skin goose bump and tingle. You knew this feeling well, you had been pleased to know your alpha wasn't all work and no play. He was actually a very fun loving man, he liked teasing you playfully and always managed to make you laugh or blush. He enjoyed you being both happy and flushed they seemed to be his favoured reactions and he would go out of his way to cause them.

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

Martha had said he just seemed happier, younger like a little teenager again. But this time without all the angst. Like you had somehow drawn away the worries he had. Apparantly as he took the mantle of superman he had lost himself along the way. He wasn't cruel or mean but he was stressed. Martha had said he was beginning to question himself, ask if it was worth it, if anything was worth it anymore. He took on more and more responsibility and was working himself into the ground. But now he wasn't?

He had you to come home too, he had something more to fight for. She said Clark saw you as his reward in a sense. You were his future, the life he had always wanted but could never hope for. Martha said you'd saved him. You wasn't sure if you really believed her, how could you save him when all you have done is sleep and refuse to eat anything other then fruit.

"Clark you might be more convincing if you wiped that smirk off your face... I'm serious, let y/n settle before risking any children okay?" the woman deadpanned making him shrug and chuckle at her.

"Aw that's no fun I already promised. Didn't I sweetheart?" he teased still eyeing you managing to ignore his mothers scathing look as he tried to get you to look at him again. And like an idiot you did spare him a quick glance, well you thought it was quick but somehow he managed to wink at you again blowing you an over exaggerated kiss.

"Clark Joseph Kent!" Martha snipped quickly a much firmer warning in place making him sigh and roll his eyes at his mothers use of his full name. He could see her point but he had to admit he was a little put out with her.. His mother had an issue with your age, even though your twenty two in earth terms you still did look the part of a teen all be it a nineteen year old, but teen none the less. She was uncomfortable with the idea of him bedding you and wanted you both to wait. But Clark didn't have an issue with it, you were his omega. He was your alpha and neither you or he were humans. So why live your lives by human rules? Besides the paperwork was all set up. Legally your not a minor here you just look young, many women did.

"Yes, yes fine, no sex yet jeez" he acquiesced giving in for the moment not needing another lecture. As much as he loved his mother; and he truly did. But his sex life was none of her business and he will fuck you when you were ready and willing and there was nothing that will get in the way of that. Not even the woman who raised him.

"Glad to hear it son. Oh don't give me that look you know it makes sense... Now dear why don't you continue, both Clark and i would love to here about your history" Martha scolded then rolled her eyes at her supposed 'adult' son who was pouting. You smiled uneasy but nodded. You learned quickly that Martha ruled the roost, but it was still strange for you to watch. You'd been raised to see Kal as a god- a saviour and your races true hope. Watching the man you'd all but worshipped be scolded by a human was... confusing. But you just let it be, you were realising humans were much more complicated then you were lead to belive.

"yes of course..." you paused clearing your throat quickly looking at the open page then flipped it seeing the next images. The ships, and graph of births declining... the population crisis, the beginning of the mighty kryptonians demise.

"When our people began scouting the galaxy less and less found their soulmates because we were soo scattered and so pairings dropped and so did births which began effecting economy and age gap parings suffered because their mates werent being born. Suddenly things took a nose dive mates weren't being born families were suddenly being cut short and many bloodlines died off... Over sixty percent of noble houses were wiped out in three decades, suicides were on the rise there was no point to life if you couldn't be happy or have a family" you explained flipping another page letting the both of them get their fill. Both pages were full of house crests and a little information on what each one represented, what their houses did for krypton notable mentions and such.

You flipped again this time showing images of the amniotic chambers. Huge glass towers that grew 'artificial' kryptonians. It was a leap forward in science. They had learned to play god, create life without any comprises. Your own eyes scanned the image a small foetus in a sack and a few around it larger and more developed. It was how your own life began.

"We turned our attention to a amniotic chambers, scientists and doctors could suddenly make anyone children! Mates or not. There was a huge baby boom but, it did nothing for the planet or its people" you explained slowly even saying it sounded strange now that you were older, but then again you'd been taught that this had been wrong. This it was the mistake that had started krypton's downfall. You'd been raised in the old ways, with old values.

"Over time it was seen as primitive to actually seek out your mate and birth a child naturally even having sex became pointless. Why go through that pain when you could have one made and delivered to you when its born?"

"So they were farming babies?" Martha asked incredulously unable to fathom such a thing. It was far fetched, the idea to make fake children? To be able to have a child without carrying them or birthing them but they were your own flesh and blood?

"Yes Ma, but more then that... when we turned our back on natural birth and mates we lost a lot of ourselves and had to use a codex to give the new generations traits and keep some semblance of our race instincts... but even that became political all birthed children had to become more beneficial to society. Loyal, strong, intelligent, beautiful, compassionate, nurturing. And at the same time you could choose the look of your child, their sex, their presentation." You explained voice getting smaller as you spoke it was uncomfortable to talk about parents could determine everything about you. Your sex, pigmentation personality, hell your parents could choose specific moles and birthmarks of they wanted a late 'morphing' session a few weeks before you were born.

"Presentation?" Martha frowned not fully understanding. You nodded to her sparing a glance before quickly looking away. It was strange explaining anything that remotely eluded to pairings and mating with her. She was a human and didn't understand. You found it unnerving, everyone just knew these things back home.

She didn't understand it and sometimes it frustrated her making her snip at you and Clark. She didn't mean to but it was just hard for her to fathom a race evolving and still retain some animal primitive instincts. Humans didn't keep much of theirs, the only ones you were aware of was their self preservation- their undeniable need to stay alive for as long as possible apart from that? They had escaped everything else. The bottom line was humans didn't have soul mates and Kryptonians did, and no matter how much the woman wished Clark was a human, he wasn't and he never would be. Martha had been able to ignore it on a day to day basis. To all intents and purposes when Clark wasn't in his suit she could pretend he was normal. Until you came along.

Not that you think she didn't like you, because she loved you, you were sure of it. It was just, sometimes Martha had to look away as you and Clark bonded. She didn't see mates, she saw her adult son fawning over a love struck teen.

"Will they be alpha, beta, omega or a new non-type" you hummed quietly trying not to dwell on the subject not wanting to upset her. Martha drew in a deep breath and nodded to you soaking up the information. You could see she was trying, she wanted to understand it was difficult for her.

"So if I wanted a blue eyed blonde boy I just had to say?" She said veering off topic slightly wanting to move on swiftly but didn't want to out right say 'lets talk about something else'

"Sort off, eyes can only be dark. Blue, green, pink, grey and amber eyes were traits only found in true borns, these traits died out. Everyone had a dark brown or black eyes occasionally you could have a very dark blue or green but bearly noticeable" you brushed over the topic as quickly as you could whislt still giving a few extra details. Clark grinned at you and made a passing comment of 'that's why my eyes fascinated you soo much?' Both he and Martha chuckled as the comment made you flush and nod slightly. It was true, you'd been enamoured with his eyes never having seen blue before... and they were soo blue it was like looking into the purest cleanest pools of water your ever seen! Gorgeous and vibrant. it had been a little ongoing tease of Clarks commenting that you were 'staring again' when ever he caught you gazeing at his azure crystal clear eyes.

"Krypton was quickly overpopulated and began draining our planets resources quicker, then they looked to the core... the beating heart of the planet" you said turning the page adamant you were not going to be caught up eyeing him again for the hundredth time today.

"And they drained it?" Clark said leaning mover your shoulder looking at the diagram of krypton that briefly explained how the core was depleted and what a calamity it was.

"Yes. It took a millennia but we bled our planet dry... It became a dry desolate place but had huge glistening cities! Technology you could only dream of! Krypton was the envy of many other planets, our military might alone ended wars in days..." Clark frowned. Military? So not only did krypton become a harsh dictatorship they had been going to war? Enough that they were a feared adversary?

You winced as Clarks face darkened at the mention of war. He didn't like fighting and killing but krypton? In its hay day was the front runner. Its military protected the planet but also dominated. It you wanted to win a war it was the kryptonians you wanted on your team, your soldiers were bred for war, just like the omegas were bred for breeding. Clark growled, eyes skimming the page that praised and boasted about the great many wars that they had won, the enemies they had crushed. You swallowed and flipped a few pages quickly skipping the small chapter on the military past.

You skimmed the next page quickly, there were no images on the next few pages. You paused remembering when you'd first worked studied this chapter. You'd been around eight years old, sitting in Mrs Nirn's class chewing your pen as you read ahead zoning out.

You had wanted to understand why things were so different from what your parents upbringing had been. You wanted to know why there were no little boys in your class, why were the lights off? Why couldn't you have a little sister like your father? Everytime you asked an adult they always vaguely mentioned 'things aren't how they were before' but no one had ever answered your follow up questions 'before what? What happened?' And this was the chapter that explained everything, that shed light on your peoples recent history.

"Love? Mate are you okay?" Clark asked worriedly watching as you seemed to drift off into your own little world. You jumped and faced him as his warm palm met with your back, slow soothing circles rubbing your tense form slowly. You smiled uneasily and nodded to him before taking a deep breath. He had to know, it was your duty to teach him what happened. It was your place to enlighten him on his own importance, he had a right to know how he got to earth.

"W-We began racing towards calamity there was huge protests, people realised we were not going to last and there would be no escape. But the government decided to call a meeting over it- Jor El decided to plead the council to stop the mining but he was ignored the meeting was just for show a ruse to try and quell the masses... Then Lara began pleading with them to think of the consequences" you said quickly finding your voice again recounting the events that began his own story, the role his parents had played in the prolonged survival of the planet and that ultimately lead you to him.

"My parents?" He said slowly recognising their names once more. You nodded glancing to Martha, you didn't really want to keep bringing up your alphas birth parents in front of the woman you didn't want her to get upset or think she was any less significant. Lara may have birthed your mate. But Martha had raised him, shaped him into the glorious gentle and caring male that he was. Martha seemed to know you were worrying over upsetting her and smiled encouragingly before placing a reassuring hand on your back below Clarks patting you sweetly.

"I'd like to know too dear, I want to know about the people who gave me my son" she cooed slowly making you bite your lip and take a deep breath muttering a meek 'okay if your sure' under your breath.

"They were strong and kind, serious though and realistic. They both avidly protested about the continued abuse of the planet and warned about the imminent destruction of krypton... it wasn't until to coup that anyone new why."

"Why? What was the reason?" Clark said eagerly paying you his full attention. He was both excited and anxious about learning of his actual parents, everything he thought about krypton seemed to be wrong. On a whole he'd convinced himself that his home planet was almost a mythical place that was good and pure perfect! But it was the complete opposite, he didn't want his fantasy of perfect parents to be shattered too. And there was always the fear he'd been abandoned simply because he was an unwanted child or defective in some way.

"She was pregnant with the first natural son of krypton. They didn't want you to be born just to die after a few weeks of life. You were born in your family home. No doctors or machinery, nothing but your mother and father." Clark let out a breath soaking in the information. Zod was right. Jor was telling the truth? He truly was the first natural born kryptonian? It was there in black and white! Not hear say! He didn't have much time to relish in the relief as you continued quickly.

"A few days after your birth Zod made his move to attack the council, his move was partly spurred on by the civil unrest and protests all over the planet." Another few pages were turned as you bypassed all the nitty gritty details of the coup and violence, the protests and downfall of many proud houses dragged out of their homes, the riots and looting as the military began fighting internally and the police force all but abandoned their duty.

"My birthday?" Clark said lightly dragging his fingers over an image of himself. A still taken from the footage of his birth, he was in a small oval crib with a blanket over his waist and lower half. Beside him was Lara and Jor watching over him. And at the top of the page a date. Both in kryptonian and earths calendar.

"May? I was born in May? Ma look!" He said sniffing quietly looking at the page in awe. That was him, his parents! They were there! He gazed at the image excitedly, he never new his real birthdate, his parents had guessed but here it was. The exact date! His actual real birthday. He wasn't an Aries. He was a Taurus. He never believed in star signs but, somehow he felt better knowing.

"I see that son, you were perfect and so tiny~" she said slightly tearful herself. This was bittersweet, she had to listen and watch as her son, the boy she raised found out the truth of how he came to her. She didn't doubt he loved her but she was always frightened of him leaving her behind in a way, the terror of him forgetting her and choosing someone else replacing her was almost too much. But at the same time Martha owed a lot to the couple that had entrusted her with their son, she would be lying if she wasn't curious about them and the reason Clark was here.

"Your father in an effort to protect you entered the amniotic chamber and stole the codex. He was hunted for it but by the time anyone could intervene or arrest him it was to late. He had sealed the codex inside of his son. He was the final kryptonian so should be able to carry all traits." You explained turning the next page seeing the image of the chamber Jor ha infiltrated. The codex sitting proudly in place.

"He.. he risked his life? To save me?" Clark breathed out barely whispering the words as he leant forward clasping his hands together tightly. You faltered and looked to him shocked, he hadn't known? You all new that Kal was sent to earth with a stalagmite key with his fathers conscious, had Clark not managed to activate it? Here were ships all over this planet, kryptonians had tried to settle here but... For some reason they just couldn't seem to survive for long. No one knows why, connection was lost.

"He... Gave his life to save you. Zod was the one who caught onto your fathers plan and... He confronted him and your mother. Tried to kill you, your existence; the proof of a natural born was... it would have destroyed his cause... it would have proved him wrong" you uttered slowly unsure how you could tell him the truth without upsetting him, it was a delicate matter. Clark ushered you closer managing to tuck you under his arm holding you as close as he could to his side, then began murring out at you as he felt the nerves, the tangled feelings of fear , grief regret and sorrow. Each one coiling around the other making for an uncertain overbearing pull.

You didn't mean to but you were tugging the bond, looking for approval. Nervously searching for some inclination that he was alright. Prodding at him tentatively trying to peak at his feelings. But you were still uncertain of how to do it without being pushy? On krypton it was said to be unseemly to pry at your mate, normally things flowed freely to forcefully take a look deeper into your mate was... rude and could be construed as not trusting your mate.

Clark didn't know that though. Was it bad? Cruel of you to omit that little social detail so he wouldn't be annoyed at you for it? Was it manipulating? Clark hummed leaning his head ontop of yours, resting his cheek on your crown and placed a sweet kiss to your hair.

"I know... I- he told me on the ship when I found out about krypton... when he told me of mates" he said calmly. You released a low whine nodding to him purring up at him as your shoulders relaxed, slumping once more in relief. You'd been wound up over that. It wasn't like his father would be alive now anyway, but telling him of his families demise wasn't really something you took pleasure in.

"O-oh.. okay well then...err your father was a warrior and fought him, he gave your mother enough time for her to launch your ship. Zod finally over came your father but it was too late, you were almost out of the atmosphere." You swallowed steeling yourself as you continued your tale, recounting the incredible events that had taken place, changing history and the fate of your race.

"Zod instructed all his units to shoot you down, but your mother had used a incredibly illegal amount of resources to make sure your ship's boosters and armed defences were at peak and you made it out"

"So That's really how I left? During all that? I thought Jor had dramatized it... but he hadn't and.." Clark trailed off in thought. He was telling the truth he had been a little sceptical, he couldn't help it he had over thought it afterwards. Managing to think himself into doubting Jor's story picking at it, almost convincing himself the story was a little too convenient.

"It got worse, zod and his men were sent to the phantom zone and your mother was tried for treason. But everything stopped when the footage came through." Martha who had remained quiet listening to you patiently taking in the new information.

"Of what?"

"Clarks birth, it was the first time in centuries anyone had managed to naturally birth a son, a true born son. It was big news and that when the council began to listen, really listen" you shrugged unsure how to explain the magnitude of what Clarks birth actually meant. Unless you were a krypton native you just didn't get it. You finally closed the book and held it in your lap eyeing both Clark and Martha.

"Then the laws changed krypton accepted its fate, it would die. But not without hope for its race to continue. And that's how we ended up as we were... the draconian backwards planet." You didn't go into detail, over the past few weeks you'd let things slip. Martha and Clark both shared a look. You were almost ashamed of your home. The differences between the totalitarian measures your people resorted to were frowned upon in this country. You felt stupid in a sense. You knew it was only natural to be slightly out of touch on this new home but? You just hadn't realised how much. The freedom and basic human right's you'd been denied! You were taught to belive in Kal. He was effectively used as propaganda, as a reward. If your good and obedient he will accept you. If not? Then you will fail both him and your race.

"The council watched you used as much energy as it could spare to watch you grow. Then you presented! Alpha, just as we'd hoped. Overnight everything changed again, we had hope and direction. Children were commissioned once more females only, and only women that have a recessive omega gene were allowed to have a child..." you reiterated the fact that females were the only gender allowed to be created. It was the most important rule of your people in the end. Only a female omega could replenish a race.

"But couldn't you make them omega? You said you could choose things like that?" Martha asked frowning not following. You cursed and shook your head you knew you'd confuse them somehow by leaving something out. It was difficult trying to remember all the details about the last chaotic years of krypton.

"No, with the codex gone we couldn't control the genes as much, we could force the child to be female but that was about it. They tried but it was hard creating a definite omega no one could really tell until we presented many were betas or the non type there were very few of us. It was just pot luck." And it was pot luck, out of one hundred girls only fifteen to seventeen would be omega. If the percentage were over that in a generation then it was seen as a 'bumper crop'

"We were made and raised to be your omega. Every one of us was taught about earthling ways. Taught about how to birth and raise pups."

"You were raised to be my mate?" Clark said frowning. He found it strange. You bit your lip chewing on it. You debated on how much he really needed to know, because honestly now you were here? And experienced earth first hand, now you'd met and spent time with your alpha. You understood how... creepy it would be? But then again if you lied he could realise you had when he reads more of the books here. You drew another breath releasing your lip from between your teeth and hissed quietly deciding it would be best to tell him.

"Yes. Our whole education was based on you and was meant to prepare us for life on earth. You have to understand, you were worshipped like a god. You had the abilities of our earliest ancestors." You began trying to dull down the in depth education you'd received about his upbringing and family. Yet still make him understand just how ingrained he was in your upbringing.

"You are? The epitome of the perfect kryptonian, proof of how great we once were! Your the perfect male. Being your omega was-is the greatest honour any kryptonian could have. And the only way to survive, only Kal's omega would have the last of the cores power used on her to move her off planet. Her saftey was the most important thing" you explained finally petting him see just how incredibly precious he was. His eyes grew wide as he truly began to understand. This wasn't all talk, and you hadn't been joking when you called him the golden son god among men. That's what you all believed. He was worshipped. It was a sobering thought.

Clark tightened his hold of you hand trembling, palm a little sweaty against your hip. He made to speak but didn't seem to be able to find any words. He couldn't make a sound. It was too surreal for him. Some called him a god here, but he was able to just brush it off, ignore it as an exaggeration. But on krypton? They had meant it. Literally.

"So every girl was raised to... Become Clark's wife? To have children? That's it? No ambitions of your own just... grow up and have babies?" Martha uttered quietly but there was an underlying sadness, she seemed to be offended for you. Which you found peculiar, here the lines of gender were blurred. Krypton raised females to breed, then once they present they were taught other skills to be useful and pay their way.

"Yes. It was... Just how things were, we were taught how to raise children and what to expect with Kal... taught to cook and earthling ways to an extent mainly laws and language but mostly our education was about history and child rearing." You said of handedly trying not to incite anger from the woman. You knew it was hard for her to imagine your homeland. It was harsh and soo different from here. There were regimes like krypton on this planet but they were seen as hostiles and stood against everything this country stood for.

"How did they know? I mean with you? How did they know your were mine" Clark said quickly managing to intercept what he believed to be a long rant from his mother. She had already made up her mind about krypton, she hadn't said it but she didn't need to her face said it all.

"Your mark apparently we share a mark which is unique to our bond and yours had activated. The council called all the omegas that had presented and searched for your mark. I was the one to have it. I was your mate" you said vaguely to be honest you didn't even understand it properly yet, it was one of the things you were hoping to find out looking through these books.

"And then after finding it they sent you here?" Clark uttered quietly. He was soo wrapped up in loving you, understanding these instincts and just basking in your presence. That he hadn't really stopped to think about the actual journey, surely it had been your choice? Especially when the cost was soo great. But there was a foreboding in your demeanour it left a heavy cold feeling in his gut.

"Yes. My parents- they had five minuets to say good bye and load me into the ship. The council didn't want to cause a panic and wait, I was wrestled into the ship by my father" you spoke weakly. You hadn't thought much about it, you had nightmares. But that was it, you tried avoiding it, blanking it out... not unlike the adults as you were growing up. In your head there was here and now on earth with your alpha and then before. Before became the codename for life on krypton. Before meant your parents, the rules, pain and fear! Before meant anxiety and death.

And now? Now was the time to let them know. Sure they understood the logistics. You were sent here to your mate. But they didn't know the actual story- the chain of events that lead to your arrival. And for the first time since getting here you needed to get it off your chest. Let it out and be done with this chapter finally let go of the fear and guilt you'd bottled up.

"I was terrified, and I fought but? Not hard enough I couldn't hold on to them either of them! The told me that they loved me and everything would be okay but it wasn't- I was about to kill them... I just" your bottom lip wobbled and your voice came out strained, you fought to get the next words out. Clark murred and tried to comfort you, feeling the fear and anxiety. The guilt and devastation in your bond was... it sickened him feeling such sorrow. But it did no good, he tugged you up and sat you on his lap curling around you, holding you to his chest desperately wanting to sooth you. Ever ounce of him was trembling the need to cheer you up and tend to you was astounding.

But even through all that need and instinct, he knew he couldn't. You were mourning, not only you parents but your race, way of life, your home, your planet! It would be a heavy blow to anyone least of all his delicate young omega. He didn't speak, he didn't want to interrupt, you needed to get this out. He needed to know what happened so he could help you.

"Then my dad... He was the one to strap me i-in... he was the strongest there... the others couldn't have held me down long enough. The ship closed... locked and that was it I was off to earth." Silence reigned as your new family took in what you'd said. They hadn't realised how you'd come here... Clark thought you came willingly, happily boarded the ship to get here. He hadn't even considered your fear and the weight on your shoulders.

"I felt it. The planet die. All the teachers said that you'd be asleep before it happened but I wasn't. It was the loudest and most frightening thing I'd ever heard. It rocked the ship, then the debris... it was like a monsoon, a deafening rain storm of rocks the earth and foundation of krypton itself." Your took a deep breath leaning against Clark pressing your back into him twisting your head slightly resting on his shoulder trying to tuck your face into his neck. Seeking him as your only comfort. .

Clark was finding it heard to hear. He was ecstatic you were here, he didn't care the cost. Now he felt like a bastard. He couldn't imagine hearing and entire planet die. And entire race. You must have felt so scared and alone. He wasn't sure he could handle that type of trauma. Its one thing to be alone hoping you had a homeland. Knowing for certain? That was another thing entirely. Martha hummed watching as Clark got upset and scooted closer placing her hand on your knee while throwing her arm around Clarks back rubbing slowly.

"I p-panicked and tried to change direction, tried rerouting the ships pre-set destination... But it couldn't find krypton. The planet just? Wasn't there anymore, it was so surreal. Instead it continued on to earth, and the onboard computer said I was too panicked to travel at hyper speed so it put me to sleep... the next thing I remember is waking up here... it felt like minuets but had been six months." You ended. It didn't seem right, such a long historic tale ending with you walking up on an alien planet.

All those failures and mistakes rolling one after the other after the other. All the power hungry fools and scientific breakthroughs for nothing. In the end your race had come full circle. An alpha and his omega. Two intertwined souls. The very last paired kryptonians. It was almost ironic, for all the advances and medical wonders in the end nature triumphed.

"I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry that you had to face that alone... if I'd known I would have come and got you, I would have never let krypton die-" Clark started apologising holding you tighter dipping his head to yours resting his nose on your hair breathing you in swaying you sweetly.

"No. Krypton had to. We couldn't risk another Zod on your new planet. Your abilities in an evil power hungry kryptonian? It would have been chaos. We knew that we had to start fresh but cohabit a planet. Not rule it. That's why we needed kryptonians to be birthed here." You cut him off quickly. He didn't have to feel responsible, krypton made their bed and they could lie in it. They strayed too far and had failed, destroyed themselves.

"Zod came. He tried to take over but I... I killed him, id found a ship and my father explained a few things to me, told me about my mate that would be sent to me I looked for you in zods men. But he laughed saying id never find you- the final straw that made me kill him was when he laughed saying you were dead." Clark hissed voice becoming dark as he remembered Zod. The cruelty the man had, the utter madness was something that ha7nted him. He feared that was the true nature of kryptonians, that one day he would become another Zod.

"You did the right thing. Zod was corrupt. The codex can sometimes corrupt a child and feed them too much. His loyalty and strength were... maddening. He was meant to be a soldier he wanted to be a dictator, even on krypton. That's what the coup was about. He was trying to overthrow a high ruling government" you said before slowly untangling yourself from your mate. He released you, hands still hovering as you stood and brushed yourself off. You sniffled and wiped your eyes before excusing yourself scaling the small steps of the ship. Clark made to follow you as you disappeared into the ship needing a few moments alone. Martha held him shaking her head understanding you needed a little breathing room.

You couldn't help it, the feelings came back, the terror and anxiety panic and self loathing. It was nauseating, you'd not really managed to come to terms with the deaths of your family, deaths that you caused. You'd managed to ignore it? Being in a completely new environment you'd almost convinced yourself you were on a trip, a holiday and that your parents were at home safe and sound. It probably wasn't healthy but its what had managed to get you through all this. But saying it outloud? Recounting it had brought everything to life.

You huffed rubbing your eyes as they teared up, seeing all this in here was hitting home. The priceless artefacts and wealth of knowledge surrounding you only solidifying the fact krypton was gone. That it was your duty to keep all this heritage alive. Your job to birth a race and find a way to integrate into this alien world. It was a terrifying prospect, soo much responsibility for a single young female. And you had to bare it alone along side the guilt of being your planets demise.

You quickly wiped at your face sniffling as you felt Clarks approach. Ducking down you looked into the satchel that you recognised as your fathers old pack. You jumped as Clark crouched behind you pressing two heavy hands on your shoulders massaging them before dragging you back to him. You sighed hanging your head as he plastered you to his front, strong arms slowly winding around your waist.

"Its not your fault, you couldn't have saved them." He said softly pressing a chaste kiss to your neck breathing you in, scenting you. It was something else that was strange at first but Clark had mastered quickly. He noticed that if he gave in to some of these... instincts he could calm you down. Scenting you, coupled with touching you coddling and holding you close seemed to be the most effective way to sooth you when things began to get too much. When you got overwhelmed, but he held back in front of his mother. She was still uneasy about the age difference.

"I could have fought harder-" you whined feeling yourself tremble, the severity of what happened the reality of it crushing you. You began huffing, taking deeper breaths holding them trying to fight the fear and sobs. You couldn't afford this self pity you had a job. A duty to your people and you cant fail! You wont because then it was for nothing-

"Omega." Clarks voice grunted, snapping you out of your thoughts. It was strange, he sounded firm and stern. A real alpha reprimanding, commanding you. You shivered. It was both frightening and sexy. Perfect. You peered back at him, a few tears escaping followed by a single mewl as you tried to stop yourself from crying.

"Nothing you said would have stopped them. Nothing. From everything you've told me, the one thing that stands out is krypton did as it pleased. A tiny thing like you never would have stood a chance" he cooed down at you somehow maintaining his authority but in a gentler way. The light growl almost soothed you, it sounded like his murr but deeper and had more conviction.

"I... I know but it... It wasn't meant to be me. Wasn't meant to happen, they always said it was the end but?" You tried to get out the feelings but for some reason you couldn't put words to them. It came in waves, as ecstatic as you were to be here with your mate, relish in the presence of your incredible alpha. You also wanted your parents, your home and all the things you'd been brought up with. You were selfish, you'd wanted it all.

"No one ever really believes a world can end love" he breathed out slowly. Still pressing close to you sniffing and kissing at you, tucking his hands below your tshirt rubbing the warm palms on your flat tummy making you relax.

"So what's this then?" Clark said motioning to the satchel you were fiddling with. You cast a glance to him and smiled sadly.

"My dads... they were allowed to pack things before we got tested... just incase and...They didn't have long to gather things- god I hope there's a photo! And my-" you were cut off as he chuckled and moved closer hooking a finger around the opening tugging it lightly.

"Jurashnir stuffie?" He said making you flush and gape. You were surprised he even remembered. But it warmed your heart that he did remember such a small detail, a passing comment really. It showed he really did listen and take in what you said, even if it was silly anxious prattle.

"Yes that" you hummed face glowing in a sweet blush. And began pulling the bag open fully digging you hand inside.

"I hope she packed it too" Clark chuckled holding the bag open wider so you could see more of the things inside. You already recognized some things, your mothers perfume she used on the rarest of occasions. Your fathers military id pin some clothing and jewellery that they treasured the hair ornaments your mother wore on their ceremonial binding. Then there was the all important photo, you closed your eyes glimpsing the image. No, it was too soon for that, you couldn't look at their smiling faces yet, not after killing them.

Then you felt it. Your stuffie the one that had been with you since you were brought home as a new babe. You yanked it out eyes watering as you pulled out the toy. Clark eyed it with a smile, it was like a chinchilla small round and cute, huge eyes and adorable. You held it close overwhelmed by it, which was stupid, it was a bloody toy, but brought so much comfort. You nuzzled it, rubbing the tiny ear between your fingers like you had thousands of times before.

"I- sorry it..." you breathed out quickly pulling the toy to your lap twiddling the fur on it humming. Your cheeks glowed feeling embarrassed from being so childish, getting so caught up in having your treasured toy with you.

"No. Don't apologise" your alpha was quick to argue with a wide grin eyeing the toy himself with a relieved expression.

"I'm glad you have something from home to comfort you" and he did. He wanted to help make you more at home here, and if a little stuffie did that he wont complain. It will have pride of place on the bed both here and when you finally return to Metropolis with him.

You smiled slowly bringing to toy to your chest clutching it close with one hand almost afraid of releasing it now you'd been reunited. You handt realised just how much it meant to you until you face not having him. Your other hand felt around inside the bag and come across a small book. You frowned and pulled it out then flushed seeing what it was. Who had popped that in your bag?! Surely not your parents, there must be a mistake.

You flipped it open and froze seeing your fathers broken English scribbled on the inner cover. A note to Kal.

'This help read. Kal be happy with mate, love her make family' you drew a deep breath and smiled nodding understanding what he meant. Be happy with each other, become a family.

"Ah and Clark... here this is our erm... my dad left this to you mating book... it has everything you need to know about... that" you uttered handing him the book. He froze not expecting to have anything from your parents. He looked over the words and smiled. It was your fathers blessing something he thought he'd go without. Before you could stop him he was flicking through the book scanning the pages and flushing slightly before laughing boisterously drawing his mother into the ship finally giving into her curiosity.

"Well I'll be damned you actually gave me a guide book for sex! Does it have pictures?~" he smirked closing the book and levelling you with a playful stare. You shrunk back squeezing the stuffie in your arms feeling embarrassed pursing your lips cutely.

"Oh god I don't err? Look just read it okay! Alone!" You growled at him as he still laughed finding it amusing just how flustered you got. He winked at you before quirking a brow at you then peered at the book once more.

"Oh so it does have pictures! Hmm? Must be my lucky day being given free porn" he exclaimed teasing you happy that you'd seemed to cheer up, even if you were now a little sheepish.

"I-its not porn! Its realistic sex education!" You said flapping at him well aware of the critical look Martha was casting you both.

"Well sweet heart trust me when I say I don't need much tutoring... actually I do... I need lots! But I'm better at practical~ perhaps you could squeeze in a little one on one session?" He purred leaning closer pushing his chest against you humming biting his lip nuzzling you. You shuddered and stuttered tripping over your words. It was at that moment Martha jumped into action.

"OKAY! Right that's enough lessons for one day Casanova, we can leave that conversation there" she huffed standing behind him placing her hands on her hips taking a stern stance.

"What? But ma i was just about-"

"Oh i know very well what you were just about to do son! Behave. And be glad she gave you a raunchy book." The human countered none to impressed with the way Clark seemed to be turning into a cheeky horndog.

"Its just sex education... not raunchy" you muttered quietly hanging your head with a sigh still glowing brightly at the fact everyone seemed to think you'd given him porn.

"I believe you sweety... Come on Clark lets get a move on, we will sort one shelf today then we can relax in the garden" she assured you before ordering Clark nudging him with a foot making him pout.

"But ma?" He whined suddenly transforming from eager alpha to leading child that made you giggle. He really was cute, cuter then you'd thought he'd be.

"No buts. You want to take this stuff to your little club house today don't you?" She snipped prodding him harder with her foot with a smirk.

"Fortress Ma. Its a fortress" Clark huffed rolling his eyes sending you a wink only to yip as Martha toe punched him a little harder in warning.

"Mm hmm call it what you want, when a son builds himself a hidden little mancave and only lets certain friends in, its a clubhouse. No matter how big or high-tech it is" she drolled making you chuckled at the two. It was nice having the motherly woman around even if she was struggling with the new situation you and her son were in.

"Its not a... whatever, come on you lets sort through this shelf first" Clark finally caved and stood helping you up deciding to pick his battles... he had to keep his mother sweet if he was going to convince her that you could move in with him, be it his room here or his appartment in Metropolis.

#henry cavill #clark kent imagine #clark kent x reader #alpha clark kent #clark kent x you #superman x reader #superman imagine #alpha superman #superman x you #fic: Deliverance

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micahscowgirl · 3 years

Text

Bite Me ~ Chapter 6

Micah Bell x f!reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Warnings: SMUT (finally), cussing, biting kink (w/blood)

Word Count: 2550

Wow. This just happened.

Chapter 6

“What’s taking you so damn long?”

“Quit yappin’,” you sternly bite back at Micah through the curtain. “I’m not even done trying everything on”

Micah has brought you to the tailor shop in Valentine to pick out some new clothes. You have a small pile of garments sitting on the bench and floor next to you. You wouldn’t admit to Micah, but you have already tried everything on, but are debating between a few options.

After trying on a very different combinations of tops and pants, you finally settled on a grey, long-sleeved button up, a leather jacket, and black riding pants. You pull the curtain back and do a quick little model for Micah, fully aware of the flattering fit of the pants.

“So, what do you think?”

“My, my,” He starts, “who’re you trying to impress, doll?”

You shoot him a quick glance before returning to collect the clothes you didn’t want. “A lady’s got to make herself presentable, don’t you agree?”

When you turn your head towards him again, you notice him biting his bottom lip while admiring you. His hat was tilted in front of his eyes, so he didn’t realize you caught him. The sight gave you butterflies and you felt yourself throb slightly. You quickly push any thoughts that might have been making their way into your head away.

“So, uh, what do you normally do whenever the camp moves without you?” you try to make conversation.

“Well, it’s definitely not as simple as asking around. Hey Mister!” He begins to mock towards an imaginary man. “Can I bother you with a question? You see, I’ve lost my crew, most of whom have a huge criminal bounty, you wouldn’t happen to know where they headed off to, do ya now?”

This puts a grin on your face, “Well, well, Mister Bell, I never would’ve pegged you for the comedic type.”

He smiles, “Well, doll, I don’t show that side to many people.” When he makes eye contact with you, he turns away and clears his throat, “Ahem, anyway we should, uh, probably be off now.”

He pays the shopkeeper for your clothes, and walks out of the shop, leaving you to finish folding the clothes. You know you should be upset, but you’re not. You can’t help but feel sorry for him.

I wonder why he conceals himself so much. And what makes me different from everyone else?

~~~~~~

Micah had tracked the wagon trail tp the train tracks before turning towards town that morning, so that’s where you returned to. It was a silent ride, so all you had were your thoughts. No matter how many times you tried not to, you couldn’t stop thinking of the way he looked at you in the shop. What was he thinking about? Was he simply admiring you? Or was he imagining all the things he would do to you, given the chance?

“You ain’t falling asleep back there, are you?” He startles you out of your thoughts. Without realizing it, you had slowly started to lean onto his back, like you had slept the night before.

“Oh, uh, sorry. I was just, uh, lost in thought.” you stutter, trying to not make anything obvious.

“Oh? What were you thinking about, doll?”

Oh my God, does he know? He couldn’t know, right? Or--

“Micah? Is that you?” someone calls from up ahead.

“Yeah, me and Y/N.”

Bill steps from behind a tree, “Camp’s right up ahead.” he says to Micah. As y’all pass him, he nods to you. “Glad you made it back safe.” After some distance is made, Micah scoffs.

“Figures.” He says.

“What?”

“They’re only glad you made it back.”

Without knowing what to say, the trot towards the camp is a silent one.

Once you arrive at camp, you begin to notice the same reaction from everyone.

“Y/N, you made it!” Arthur walks up to the horse. Micah hops off, and knowing you’re still sore from the night before turns to help you, but not before Arthur beats him to it. “Dutch was so worried about you after he sent you off to Strawberry.” You accept his help and Micah turns and walks away stubbornly off into the trees.

“I ran into some trouble up that way, thankfully Micah was there to save me,” you say, giving him the credit. Even so, it was brushed away.

“Let’s get you something to eat.” Mary-Beth chimes in, taking you by the arm and pulling you away. “Charles and Hosea said they’d hitch your tent if you made it back today.” You turn your head and get one more glimpse of Micah before he is erased by the trees. I wouldn’t be back if it wasn’t for him.

~~~~~~

The afternoon is full of celebration led by Dutch. You can’t help but feel that this is his way of hiding that he did choose to move without waiting for you or sending anyone to find you. If it wasn’t for Micah, you’d be dead or even worse. “You’re going to be my little whore.” The voice of the O'Driscol echoes in your head.

Even though your sitting in front of a warm fire and everyone is singing and laughing, you can’t help but feel cold and sad. Micah hasn’t come back since he walked off earlier. He’s the one who saved your life and no one batted an eye for it.

When no one is paying attention, you stand and sneak your way to behind the tents. You make your way over to the horses and Baylock is still there. For the first time all night, you felt a small smile sneak it’s way onto your face. Micah must still be here somewhere.

“Y/N,” you jump and turn to see Arthur walking towards you. “What are you doing over here? You missing all the fun!” Arthur isn’t a heavy drinker, but you can tell he’s a little more than tipsy.

“I just needed a moment from the crowd.” You say, trying to hint at him to leave. With no prevail, you continue. “I was just going to take a small walk by myself.”

“Well, I can keep you comp’ny!” he slurs.

Dammit, Arthur.

You have an idea. “You know, Arthur, I think Mary-Beth has quite the thing for you.” He looks intrigued. “And, coming from a women’s perspective, a nice cool night like this is quite the romantic setting. I think you could make a pretty good move tonight.” You wink.

“You really think so?” he ponders the idea. “If you think I have a chance, maybe I’ll go for it!”

You gentle grab his arm and turn him to face the camp. “Go get’em, cowboy.”

You sigh as he makes his way back to the camp, now to find Micah.

~~~~~~

You had made your way into the trees. Thankfully, the moon was bright tonight and you could see under the shade of the trees. Finding him shouldn’t be a problem. Your confidence grew thin the longer you looked, though. You were about to give up when you saw a small wisp of smoke glow from behind a tree. The pine needles beneath your feet made it hard for him to hear you, so you speak softly as to not startle him.

“Micah, is that you?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

You approach the tree he is leaning on and turn to face him. He is sitting on the ground and his head is tilted so you can’t see his eyes. You want nothing more than to see them and get lost in their deep blue color.

“What’re you doing way out here?” You know the answer, but you needed something to say.

“Same thing I always do, sweetheart. Avoiding those who despise me, which unfortunately seems to be everyone at the moment.”

After a small pause, you say, “I don’t despise you.”

He takes a long draw from his cigarette before he looks up. “And why is that? What do you see in me? ‘Cause there ain’t nothing here worth giving two shits about.”

You can’t think of anything to say that won’t set him off. You can tell he’s right on the edge of snapping.

He sighs, “That’s what I thought, there ain’t--” He stops when he sees you walking towards him.

You move so your standing over him, one foot on either side of his legs. He flicks away his cigarette and slowly runs his hands softly up your legs. Once he reached your thighs, you lower yourself to straddle him. Your heart is pounding, but you don’t want to let him see how nervous you really are.

One of his hands stops on your hip, while the other one continues. He runs his fingers up your arm, following them with his eyes. They brush over your shoulder, onto your neck, and down your jaw. He finally makes eye-contact with you making you shiver.

“Now what do you think you’re up to, doll.”

You don’t respond with words. Instead, you place your hands on his chest, grab the fabric of his shirt, and lean in to kiss him. You pull away, stopping only a few inches back, just so you can look into his eyes.

He moves one hand around your waist and the other gets lost in your hair as he pulls you in to a much deeper kiss. As his tongue enters you mouth, you begin to feel yourself throb. You’ve been hoping for this for so long and it’s finally happening. Your heart beats faster as you begin to grind against him slowly but rough.

He pulls himself away from the kiss. “Are you sure you want this? With me?”

You reach down to start undoing the buttons on your shirt. “I want this. I want you, Micah.”

You pull off your shirt and your battered undershirt, revealing your breasts. He glances at you approval before he grabs them. He leans back in to kiss you. As he moves his hands to hold your waist again, he grazes your nipple, causing you to moan into the kiss. That must’ve been what did it for him because he grabs tightly onto your hips.

“If you want me, your gonna need to loose these,” He runs his fingers down your pants. Before you can respond, his thumb has reached down the the seam right in-between your legs. You didn’t realize how wet you had became until he started to apply pressure. You let out a small moan again. You were so sensitive from anticipation for the moment, you could hardly stand it.

He begins to rub more as he leans in to start sucking on your neck. It’s becoming too much for you; you want him so bad. You reach down, moving your hand past his to grab onto his bulge through his pants. When you do this, he bites down onto the spot he had just made on your neck, causing you to whimper. All at once, he removes his mouth from your neck and his hand from your pants. You let out a sigh, missing the sensation.

He starts to undo his belt. Taking that as a sign, you stand to remove your pants and panties. Wasting no time, you straddle him again.

“This is your last chance, doll, you sure you want this. I can’t promise I’ll be gentle.”

“Yes, Micah, please. I’ve been wanting this for so long.”

He smiles as he moves his hand back down, starting to run small circles or your clit. “Trust me, princess, I’ve been wanting this too.”

You lean in to kiss him again, trying to silence your moans. He slowly begins to move two fingers to enter you. You can’t hold back the whimpers escaping your throat; you crave him so much.

He continues to rub your clit with his thumb as the two fingers curl inside of you.

“P-please, Micah, I can’t take it. I want you.”

As much as he was trying to hold back as long as he could, your begs pushed him over once again. He reaches into his pants and pulls out his dick.

“Look at me,” He says. You do as you’re told. You bite your lip as he rubs his member over your clit and entrance, wetting himself with your slick. All at once, he shoves himself into you, causing you to let out a loud moan. He reaches up and covers your mouth.

“Shhh. You don’t want the whole camp coming over here and interrupting us, do you, doll?” He hisses. You shake your head, his hand holding back muffled whimpers as you get use to his size. Once you’re quiet, he moves his hand away. “Good girl.”

He grabs onto your hips tightly, his thumbs digging into them hard. He lifts you and slams you back onto him. Another moan tries to escape you. “I’m not going to continue until I know you can be quiet, babe.” he teases. You pout your lips at him. He smiles and tilts his head, exposing his neck from underneath his hair. You look at his neck then back at him. He grins.

“Bite me.” he says in a deep tone that you can feel in your chest, causing you to shiver and tighten on his cock that’s deep inside you. “Well?” he smirks.

You put your arms on his shoulders and place your lips on his neck. You can’t imagine actually biting him, that would hurt too much, right?

He starts to slowly lift you and thrust into you. You wants to moan so badly, but you know he’ll only stop again. You keep your lips shut tightly, keeping them pressed up against him.

He begins to thrust harder, grinding your clit against him every time. It’s too much and you open your mouth to moan, but instead bite down onto his neck. You hear him snarl and feel a growl in his throat. He speeds up, lifting you high enough each time to take in his whole shaft. He pounds into you, you feel your clit start to throb more and more and your insides tighten.

You start to taste the metallic flavor of blood right as you tip over the edge. You can’t help it, you pull away from him to arch your back and ride through your climax. The feeling keeps getting better and better. You sense he’s lifting you lower as his arms grow tired. You begin to lift yourself, riding him until he’s finished. You feel his cock grow stiffer and begin to throb as he’s about to come.

He reaches up and grabs your hair, pulling you forward into a sloppy kiss. He reaches down and grabs your hips a final time to slam into you as hard as he can. He let’s out a deep moan through gritted teeth and he finishes, filling you up. This causes you to let out one final moan before you fall onto his chest.

“God-dammit, Y/N.” He pushes you up so he can look at you. “What the hell got into you?”

You smile, too exhausted for words. You lean forward and lick the small drops of blood from his neck.

“You wouldn’t happen to have enough space in that tent of yours for one more, would you?” he says. He leans forward to leave a small trail of kisses up your neck and across you jaw.

“Hmm, I think I can make some room.”

#wow #micah bell #micah bell smut #smut #yummy #rdr2 #Red Dead Redemption #it's about time #yay

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phantomrose96 · 4 years

Text

King

cw: heavy angst, non-canon character death, violent imagery, emetophobia

It’s pretty long, so heed the Read More.

...

Bakugou is sitting in the police station.

Time isn’t moving forward with him. It has a hand over his mouth holding him back, holding him down, beneath the surface of the unreal waters which suspend him. All sounds reach his ears muffled. The phone ringing, and the station hand answering. Chatter, officers exchanging details, Bakugou winces at the utterance of the word “explosion”. None of it is real. None of it can be happening to him.

He jangles the handcuffs on his wrist, and this attracts the weary attention of the station hands. The cuffs aren’t necessary. He is not going anywhere. He sits, and he stares forward, and his ears ring.

Bakugou has fucked up. Bakugou understands for the first time in his life the sensation of fucking up beyond repair. He is watching dreams evaporate in front of his eyes, staring forward unseeingly at the pallid white floor tiles around him. His eyes trace their lines. He does not see them. They are not real. He is not real. He has fucked up. He has fucked up.

Behind his eyelids, a single image burns. It is branded into his eyes. The scorched wick of a torso lingers there, shifting to a negative impression of itself with each blink. A torched wick, balanced on disembodied legs, falling forward. Falling forward. Falling forward. Falling forward again with each blink. It’s a sight he has no way to unsee.

His heart rate picks up. His breathing comes faster and shallower. He says nothing. He has fucked up. He has fucked up, and he can never fix this.

Because he is still, and because he is silent, no one pays him any mind.

…

A man walks into the precinct. He is just a bit portly, immaculately dressed in a suit and tie. He shrugs off the tweed overcoat, leaving just vest and undershirt and tie, and hangs it with familiarity on the coat rack by the entrance. He lifts his bowler’s hat in greeting, and overlapping responses greet him from the precinct office. “Fujimori” is uttered, affably. He extends a hand, and several workers shake it with a smile. A joke is cracked. A chorus of deep belly laughs follow. The man with the bowler’s hat – Fujimori – calms his mirth and asks one of the officers about his kids, and when the idle chatter ends, he asks where his client is.

Fingers point toward Bakugou. Fujimori lumbers over, with a confidence that reminds Bakugou of lions, his face at ease. Fujimori lowers himself to a squat so he is eye level with Bakugou.

“I’m Hiroji Fujimori. I’m a lawyer with U.A. You’ve had a hell of a day, huh, Katsuki Bakugou? Why don’t I help get those handcuffs off and get you home for some rest?”

Bakugou looks up. He hears the words, but his ears are still ringing, so he clearly has not heard them correctly. It sounded like the man said he was going home.

“Home?” Bakugou asks.

“Well, the U.A. dorms. Under protective custody but, I promise, you won’t even notice.”

“I’m not going home,” Bakugou responds. He isn’t sure it’s his own voice speaking, or his own lips moving.

“Oh? Got somewhere else you’re headed?”

“Jail.”

Fujimori lets out a deep laugh, the kind that rumbles his whole body. He fans himself briefly with the casefile in hand. “Right. Right right right, no one’s given you the run-down. Ease back those shoulders, son, you’re not headed to jail. Chin up! Try for a smile. This isn’t my first rodeo.” He offers a nod back to the officers. “Ain’t that right?”

There’s a chorus of agreement. Bakugou is looking, but not processing. His mind hangs on “not headed to jail.”

“…When am I going to jail, then?”

“Hopefully never! Not very becoming of a U.A. Hero to be doing time, hmm? Come on. There’s a car waiting out front for you. Let’s gather up your stuff and get you home. Bet you’re dying for something more comfortable than this chair, and these cuffs. Hell, I bet you want nothing more than a night in your own bed right now. Poor boy,” and Fujimori angles his head over his shoulder, “just how many hours have you lot kept him all tied up here, hmm? A touch reprehensible.”

Fujimori is wrong. Bakugou is not thinking about his bed or rest or sleep. Nor is he concerned with how many hours he’s been sitting at the precinct – though it’s been several. He has not thought about those things because time has not restarted. Because there is no future of his to consider with a bed and rest and sleep, not with the unfixable thing he’s done.

Bakugou says none of what he’s thinking. He’s uncharacteristically uncapable of trying. So he silently stands when Fujimori motions him to, and follows as Fujimori takes him back to the precinct desk, where Fujimori strikes up another amicable conversation with the officer in possession of the keys.

…

Back at the dorms, Bakugou showers off the smell of flesh that isn’t his own. He crawls into his U.A. bed for what he is sure is the last time. Hours pass staring at the ceiling, until Bakugou slips into dreams which play back his own last calamitous explosion to him a few dozen more times.

…

Fujimori is waiting for him the next morning, parked alongside the grass outside with the dew brushing along the footboard of his Mercedes. He is wearing a different suit today, a darker one, and he is holding two steaming cups of coffee, one which he offers to Bakugou. Bakugou takes it, though he isn’t sure why. The feeling of heat soaking into his palm is abhorrent.

“How’d you sleep?” Fujimori asks. His attendant opens the back-left passenger door for Bakugou. Bakugou stares. He does not answer, and he does not get in. Fujimori continues. “We’ll just be headed into the office for a few hours this morning. Some of my colleagues would like to meet you and hash over some details from yesterday. Might ask you to sign a few papers, if you’re comfortable with that.”

Fujimori gets in the back-right passenger door. The attendant takes the wheel. Once settled, Fujimori cranks up the AC and fans himself with the documents in his hand. He motions for Bakugou to get in as well. This time, Bakugou complies. Fujimori leans over and shuts the car door for him.

“You said you’re a U.A. lawyer?” Bakugou finally asks. He grips the coffee too tightly in his lap. He’s wearing his U.A. uniform, with the pants hitched up correctly. It’s what he was ordered to wear.

“Sure am. Going on 20 years this September. Y’know, I’ve got a son a little bit younger than you. HUGE fan of the U.A. Sports Festival. I get tickets and bring him every year. You were his top-ringer, favorite by a mile. Your victory over that Todoroki kid—

“Stop.”

“Hmm?”

“Stop.”

“Ah, sports festival a sour subject with you, son? As I recall you did end up restrai—”

“No. Stop being so casual. And friendly. Like this. Sports festival. Sports festival?! Like that’s ever going to matter again!” Bakugou’s voice builds toa crescendo, pent up horror spilling from his mouth like a faucet. “It’s cruel, don’t you think, to make me talk about U.A. like I’m ever coming back.”

“Hey now, the way I see it you’ve still got another two full years at that school before they’re done with you.”

“If you think that then you don’t know what happened yesterday. What kind of lawyer are you who doesn’t even know—”

“I know your case file forward and back, son. I’m no amateur. In fact, I’m very very skilled at what I do.”

“Then you know that I k—”

“—Calculated an unwinnable risk, and acted under extreme duress, and fear for you own life, in the face of a paralyzingly dangerous situation. And I know that your actions were necessary to ensure the safety of yourself and all others in the area.” Fujimori raises his own coffee to his lips and drinks from it, leaving the both of them to ruminate in the whir of the A.C. “An admirable and heroic act, with a tragic but unavoidable outcome.”

Bakugou feels colder, in a part of himself untouched by the A.C.

“…It wasn’t like that,” he whispers.

“I assure you it was, boy.”

The car blinker clicks on. They hang a left. Bakugou fixes his eyes out the window, watching the world spin by him. There’s an anger like solid ice encasing his heart, the kind he cannot act on, the kind that paralyzes him in his seat, the kind he’d only felt once before – when All Might lost his power for him – that Bakugou had vowed to never feel again.

Self-hatred. Ice instead of fire. That is what makes it so paralyzing.

“…Why are you representing me?”

“Because U.A. requested that I do.”

“And why would U.A. care? This wasn’t a U.A. mission. This didn’t have anything to do with them.”

Fujimori turns and offers him a warm smile. His face is disarming, and gentle, and grandfatherly, and he extends a hand to pat Bakugou on the shoulder.

“Come now, I think you’re a sharp enough boy to figure out the answer to that question.”

…

Bakugou leaves the office numb again. His memories of the incident feel hazier now. They feel less his own. He’s been asked to hold on to someone else’s construction, to coddle it in his mind until he believes it is his own. He needs to sew it back into himself. And forget his own memories. And move on.

Six hours have passed since he walked into the conference room with Fujimori, met with a half-dozen other lawyers whose names and faces all escape him now. He’s been asked too many times to describe the villain’s face, to describe man’s dress and his expression and his body language. Bakugou no longer trusts any memory he has of face, and body, and dress, and name.

Bakugou does not remember what, precisely, the villain said to him. He does not remember how he said it or why. Or how the villain had used his quirk, or how many times, or how close to Bakugou. Bakugou knows with certainty the villain had smashed him into the pavement, because it is that white-hot rage he felt in response that is seared into the memory behind his eyelids, like an after-image in the wake of an atom bomb.

The missing details, the absent paint strokes in his memory, have been helpfully filled in for him. Bakugou has been informed by the half-dozen lawyers that the villain had attacked him first, and with such bloodlust and such aggression that Bakugou had acted purely, and only, in defense of himself. Bakugou has been informed that the contusions to the back of his skull, documented at the police station, and the abrasions along his arms and legs and back all constitute intense physical trauma, from the villain who struck first, against Bakugou who had every reason to fear for his life.

Bakugou has been informed that the villain was a scoundrel, a lowlife, a man with a record and no family and no ties to the community.

Bakugou ruminates on all these new elements he’s been told to graft into his memory, as the car vibrates beneath him and Fujimori makes idle one-sided chatter on their ride back to U.A. All these memories meld together, such that Bakugou cannot pick apart what is his own, and what is not. He stares into the blood-red setting sun over the horizon, and he realizes he never will be able to.

There were no witnesses. There were no cameras. The only other man, who might otherwise have had the chance to defend himself, is dead.

…

Bakugou showers again. He already showered this morning. Bakugou tells himself it is because he’s been out all day. He doesn’t let himself consider what about the outing has made him feel so unclean.

So he doesn’t think about it, and he scrubs off the phantom lingering smells of burnt flesh from his body, and towels off, and changes into sweats. Alone in his room, with the blood red of the setting sun eking through his window, Bakugou considers going right to bed. His eyes shift to the clock beside his bed. It’s 5pm, and he hasn’t eaten yet today.

Bakugou stands, indecisive, and moves to the door.

When he opens it, he sucks in a sharp breath. Todoroki is standing at his doorway, leaning ever so slightly against the wall, his appraising eyes roving once over Bakugou before he straightens up entirely.

“Move,” Bakugou says.

“Where did you go with Fujimori this morning?”

Bakugou balks, only for an instant. He shoves past Todoroki, and sets his focus on navigating to the dorm kitchen. “Who?”

“The lawyer. I saw from the window. You were talking to him. You got in his car. And you’ve been gone the whole day until now.”

“What do you care?” Bakugou picks up his pace. Todoroki matches it.

“Because it’s Fujimori.”

“I don’t know what that means. Fuck off and leave me alone.”

“What did he want with you? What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re lying.”

“Fuck off.”

“Tell me.”

Bakugou stops cold and whirls on Todoroki. He feels his hand twitch, but he thinks better of it.

“It’s from my work study. It’s confidential. I can’t tell you, and I wouldn’t tell you anyway. We’re not friends. You don’t demand things from me. Fuck. Off.”

Bakugou takes off again.

“Fujimori…” Todoroki trails off. He hustles to keep himself in lock step with Bakugou, flanking him, refusing to be shaken off. “Just tell me why it’s Fujimori then.”

“Again, I do not fucking know what that question means. Why the fuck do you expect me to know anything? Do I look like a lawyer? Go bug Deku, you clingy piece of shit.”

“Did I hear my name?”

Bakugou rounds the corner, Todoroki in tow, and he finds himself face to face with Midoriya. Midoriya has one eyebrow quirked, hair wet from his own shower, grasping a glass of water in his hands. Midoriya’s eyes flicker between Bakugou and Todoroki.

“What… are you two up to? Uh, something fun?”

“Good.” Bakugou grabs Midoriya by the shoulders, lifts him, and spins halfway around in place. He plants Midoriya back down as a human divide between himself and Todoroki. “Deku’s here. Go bug each other.”

Midoriya looks back and forth between Bakugou and Todoroki. Worry creases his brow. “Um, okay? Is there something you wanted to talk to me about, Todoroki?”

Bakugou glances for a fraction of a second at the kitchen, and curses under his breath, and turns in place, and shoves past Todoroki and Midoriya. He stalks back to his room, where he slams the door shut and locks it. He throws himself onto his bed and buries his face in his pillow, not bothering with the lights.

There’s muffled chatter in the hall. There are footsteps pattering overhead. There is a world outside his room that has spun on without him.

The question ‘why Fujimori?’ sits like a rock in Bakugou’s chest, and he rips the pillow out from beneath himself, pressing it over his head completely.

It’s fully dark now. Bakugou has no intention of moving from bed.

It is 5:07 pm.

…

Bakugou remembers very few details from the incident, anymore.

His memories are more like wispy embers, and they burn, and they flash-ignite without warning. He remembers heat, humidity, sapping sweat dripping down his hairline and curving along his nose. Heaving breath like a swelling knife wound in his bruised chest cavity. The viscous wetness of blood mingling and running in spider veins down his cheek, to the corner of his mouth, where it painted his teeth and tasted coppery on his tongue.

He remembers rage, white hot, swamping his mind. He remembers uproarious indignation that anyone could fell him like that, crack his head open on the concrete like that, knock the air from his lungs like that, make him taste his own blood like that. He remembers his every breath being a wheezing effort. He remembers the sun searing him, blisteringly bright, when he could manage to pry his eyes open to the spinning sky above. He remembers a ringing that stole all sound from his ears.

Bakugou no longer knows anything past that. His memories aren’t his own. The ones that were are overwritten, or buried, deformed beneath the crushing weight of denial. But he hadn’t meant to. He knows he hadn’t meant to. It has to be that he hadn’t meant to.

A slamming at his door tears him from his hazy half sleep. Bakugou sits bolt-upright, and his heart is slamming in his throat.

“Yo, dude, you get dinner yet? I haven’t seen you like all day. What’s up?”

Bakugou blinks, bleary-eyed, and the clock at his bedside swims into view. It’s 8:47 pm.

Bakugou lays back down. His every nerve remains on fire.

“Go away, I’m sleeping.”

Bakugou can sense the hesitation at the door.

“Alright,” Kirishima answers, and his voice is careful. “Catch you tomorrow then.”

…

In the common area, Kirishima walks in with his fingers threaded through his loose hair, his motions agitated, and he falls onto the couch beside Midoriya.

“Yo, hey, Midoriya, you know Bakugou pretty well, yeah? Do you think something’s like, up with him?”

Midoriya looks up from his phone. Iida, sitting on the adjacent couch, slams his book shut with entirely too much force. “Bakugou had an excused absence from class today! I can confirm this, if you are worried he is shirking from his student duties.”

“Nah nah – I mean – maybe that’s part of it, I dunno. But it’s not just that he wasn’t in class but like, I haven’t seen him at all today. And I tried to go bug him just now but he shut me out.”

“Bakugou goes to bed early,” Iida continues.

“I know he does but like. I dunno. It’s different. It’s kinda reminding me of how he acted after Kamino.”

“I saw him earlier today, but just for a little bit,” Midoriya answers. “Todoroki was talking to him, then he told me to talk to Todoroki.”

“Why?”

“Um, I don’t actually know. Do you know, Todoroki?”

“I don’t know,” Todoroki answers from the floor, where he sits leaning against the couch Kirishima and Midoriya occupy. After a moment of silence, he adds in, “But it’s something bad.”

Kirishima straightens, couch springs straining beneath him. “What do you mean bad? What do you know?”

“He was with Fujimori.”

“Who’s Fujimori?” Kirishima asks. All eyes remain pinned on Todoroki, not a flash of recognition in anyone else’s face, not even Iida’s.

“He’s a U.A. lawyer.” Todoroki fidgets. “He’s… a specific kind of U.A. lawyer. I saw a lot of him, when I was very young. After Mom went away, I saw a lot of him, pretty much every day.” Subconsciously, Todoroki raises a hand to skim along the uneven skin of his left eye. “Dad was his client.”

“Oh, um, I met a couple U.A. lawyers after we rescued Eri.” Midoriya shoots a quick glance to Kirishima. “Me and Kirishima both. Bakugou’s doing a work study right now. Maybe it’s like… maybe something like Eri happened.”

Todoroki shakes his head. “You and Kirishima have not met Fujimori. Whatever U.A. lawyers you talked to, they weren’t Fujimori.”

“What makes you sure?”

Todoroki lingers in the silence. His lips part, but he says nothing immediately. He thinks long and hard on the words hanging behind his tongue. There’s a twitch along his mouth, some repressed fidget of hostility that comes slowly burning into his eyes.

“I’ve been told not to talk about Fujimori. My father has told me not to. But… I think I don’t care what my father told me.” Todoroki pushes off from the couch he is leaning on, settling toward the center of the carpet and turning in place, so that he completes a circle made of himself, Kirishima, Midoriya, and Iida. “I might still get in trouble with U.A.… But maybe I don’t care about that either.” Todoroki pauses. “Fujimori… Fujimori is a monster. Scum, the lowest and most disgusting sort of person humanity has to offer—no, not humanity. Calling human would be too generous. He’s a weapon, not a human.”

Midoriya scoots a fraction forward. His body leaks with uneasy tension. “And he’s… you said he’s someone who works for U.A.? U.A. hired him?”

“U.A. would be sunk without him,” Todoroki declares coldly. “And Fujimori… does not get involved lightly. And he would never be involved in the Eri mission, because U.A. wasn’t at fault for anything bad that happened there.”

“I…” Midoriya fidgets again, waxing uncomfortable. “I mean, um, not all the details of that mission were made public, you know. It um… that mission didn’t go as planned. I mean, I don’t… I’m not blameless, I think, for the things that went wrong.”

“Me neither,” Kirishima cuts in.

“Sir Night Eye—”

“I know Sir Night Eye died,” Todoroki responds, chillingly flat. His eyes appraise Midoriya once-over. “Did you kill Sir Night Eye?”

“No,” Midoriya answers. “Why would you even—”

“Then Fujimori was not your lawyer.”

Silence fills the room. A palpable dread sets in over them, like a blanket of fog, clammy and cold to the touch.

“What… do you think Bakugou did?” Iida asks.

“Something as bad as my father did to me and my mother,” Todoroki answers, and he does not hide the personal condemnation from his voice. “Or worse.”

…

Bakugou wakes at 6:15 am to another message from Fujimori. It requests Bakugou meet him outside once more. No dress code is specified.

Bakugou appears wearing the sweats he fell asleep in, leery eyes meeting Fujimori who stands along the same dew-swept section of street beside the U.A. dorms. Bakugou shifts furtive glances up and to the dorm windows, face racked with tension.

“People can see us from the windows,” Bakugou comments, curt.

“Does that worry you?”

“Yes. Todoroki knows you. Why the fuck does Todoroki know you?”

Fujimori lets out a good-humored chuckle. “Ah, Todoroki’s boy. Figures he may not be too fond of me.” Fujimori adjusts the suspenders digging into his shoulders. He is more casually dressed today. “Well then – here’s some excellent news for you: this will be very, very brief, so brief you don’t have to worry about being spotted with me.” Fujimori curls a smile, wide and self-satisfied on his flushed red face. “Would you like to hear another lick of good news?”

“What?”

Fujimori extends a hand, low and firm, an invite to be grasped and shaken. “All charges against you have been dropped. You’re a free man with a clean record, Katsuki Bakugou.”

Bakugou does not take Fujimori’s hand. He doesn’t so much as move. He feels as if the ringing in his ears is back. He feels again as if he’s misheard.

“…There hasn’t been a trial yet.”

“You’re right about that. We nipped it in the bud before it even reached that stage. That’s a fantastic development, because trials have their way of dragging their feet. For years, sometimes. You’re a fortunate young man.”

“How?”

“Hmm?”

“How did the charges get dropped?”

“Well I just compiled your case is all. Argued it before the district judge and the chief of police over a nice batch of chamomile tea I brewed early this morning, and they’re both exceptional, bright, reasonable men of conscience. Not one person in that room wanted to see a U.A. star’s future snuffed out before it could even begin.”

“I killed—”

“—And there’s a few weeks off, being offered to you too, courtesy of the U.A. President Nedzu himself. He wants you to take the time you need to heal from this trauma. There’s a therapist too, under U.A.’s direction, that we’d like you to meet with daily. Sorry, that part’s non-negotiable. But she’ll be good for you. You’ve been through a lot for a boy so young. Everyone just wants to see you succeed.” Fujimori steps closer, and he rests a heavy hand on Bakugou’s shoulder. “And most importantly, the events from that day are under gag order. No word of this will ever reach anyone outside that precinct or outside U.A.”

“The villain…”

“Pardon?”

“What happens to him now? With his—with the—with what’s left of him. …What happens?”

“That’s not for people like you or me to worry about. You, especially, my boy. Just focus on the happy news.” Fujimori retracts his hand, and he lumbers back toward his car. There is no attendant this time. He opens the driver’s side door and glances back to Bakugou from overtop the car. “There will be a few more meetings in the coming weeks that you’ll have to attend with my colleagues, and a few more things for you to sign, and just a few attestations. But no one will ask anything difficult of you from here-on out. The hard part’s over. Quite luckily, this may be the last you see of me.”

Fujimori tips his hat once more, and disappears into his car with the tinted windows. It’s nice—the car. It’s exceptionally too nice, and too proper, and too clean for a man like Fujimori.

The engine revs. Fujimori vanishes along with the car at the next left turn.

Bakugou is left alone in the cold clammy morning air, with the sun wicking at the grass-top dew drops mingling with the cuffs of his pants.

Time restarts for Bakugou.

Now, and only now, Bakugou feels the passing wind against his cheek, and the wetness at his ankles, and the cadence of songbirds characterized by their punctuation through time. Time is moving fast again, with him in the stream, spinning dizzyingly forward.

Fujimori is right, this news is good news, Bakugou understands that. There’s a future in front of him again. A hero path ahead of him. He can carry on. He can graduate from U.A. He can become the #1 Hero. He can surpass All Might.

Bakugou’s memory stirs.

He is stricken with the image of two eyes looking back at him, gray and befuddled, panicked and unsure. They are eyes which belong to a head, a head with belongs to a body, all atop legs too scattered to know where to run. The image is a quivering bit of prey in front of him, cowed into a quaking revolting shell. It is a thing filled with regret at the sight of the rage it spurred from Bakugou by daring to slam Bakugou into the pavement first.

Bakugou remembers pulling the pin from his gauntlet. He remembers doing it with revelry. He remembers the sweet, nigh-intoxicating high, the euphoria that came with the sense of complete command, absolute control, unchecked power, the drive to win, to win, to win.

He remembers the lock and jolt to his shoulder, now. The eruption of searing heat. The explosion ringing in his ears. And the quaking, shivering thing of prey, in a moment of panic, darting directly into the blast, when all common sense dictated that it should have darted away.

Bakugou now remembers the blast erupting into black smoke, with a smell so wretched on its wind that Bakugou had buckled on spot. Bakugou now remembers the feeling -- suddenly greasy, suddenly unclean with the blowback of the blast, suddenly sticky dripping sapping wet with—

Bakugou remembers the torched wick of a torso – with full context now, he sees it. Suspended in time. Atop legs that should not stand.

Alone now in the cold morning air, alone outside the U.A. dorms, Bakugou buckles at the waist. He doubles over, falls forward like the image so seared into his mind. He moves forward in time with the dismembered legs, both his knees and its knees hitting the ground. Bakugou’s palms strike the dew-strewn lawn, his legs sink into the wetness. He holds himself up a moment, on arms too trembling to command, with a heartbeat too slammingly loud in his ears, and he loses his stomach contents into the grass below.

…

Bakugou is in class that same day. He does not take any of the offered leave, even when Nedzu appears at his dormitory door that morning at 7:30, even when Aizawa pulls him aside at the classroom entrance to ask, in as few specifics as possible, if Bakugou really intends to be here.

Bakugou confirms both times that he’s fine, and that he’s going to class, and that he doesn’t want them to mention anything to do with this ever again.

In class, he pretends to not see when Kirishima tries to catch his attention. He pretends not to feel the cold lick of malice from Todoroki’s eyes probing his back. Hardest of all, he pretends not to notice Midoriya’s pleading look, that detestable, abhorrent disarmed expression of weakness and worry so characteristic of him.

…

The partners are presumably random, but Bakugou stares on with disgusted certainty that Midoriya’s been intentionally assigned to him for sparring practice. Each pair of students has been spread about in sparring rings around Ground Beta, ample room given between each location, such that no quirks, and no voice, could carry between any two. Only the loudspeaker affixed to the Ground Beta building issues commands to each group.

The round starts.

Bakugou squares his feet, crouched slightly, hatred burning cold in his eyes. Midoriya meets his gaze, and squares his own feet, and raises his own hands. A silent few seconds of tense nothing passes between them. Bakugou’s gauntlet-less hands itch.

“Dodge!” Bakugou barks across the makeshift arena.

Midoriya loosens his footing a fraction, confusion crawling back into his face. “You haven’t attacked me yet.”

“Well get out of the way before I do!”

“If you attack me, then I’ll dodge.”

“Well you better! Because I’m telling you to dodge!”

Midoriya blinks. Bakugou remains rooted in place. In a split second, Midoriya has bounced from his spot. He winds back a kick, the shimmer of green iridescent veins spawning like stream rivulets down his thigh, down his leg. He closes the distance between them, and Bakugou only stares back wide-eyed as Midoriya’s shin connects with his jaw.

Bakugou stumbles, face smarting, a white-hot lick of rage exploding like a cannon from within his chest. The anger swamps his mind and drowns all thought and leaves him only with the livid, licking, untamable desire to fire back.

He thrusts a palm out, arm locked in tight at the elbow, immaculately drawing Midoriya into his line of attack. Midoriya’s eyes go wide, but he is still in the air, still falling, and won’t get the chance to course correct until he hits the ground. Bakugou has the shot.

Bakugou does not take it.

Time slips around him again. Leaving him behind, knocking him at the ankles, as if he is standing knee-deep in a stream to which he does not belong. The force threatens to make him stumble. He simply stands, hand extended, the promise of an explosion sputtering behind his palm.

Midoriya lands, and Bakugou has left himself wide open.

Midoriya doesn’t take his shot either.

“Do you want to… maybe call off the fight, Kacchan?”

“No! Attack me again!” Bakugou yells, hand thrown out harder, though nothing bursts on his palms.

“I…” Midoriya hesitates. He looks around, and he lets the rivulets of power bleed away from his arms and legs. He loosens his footing, stands taller, lets the tension ease out of his body. “You know, um… After we rescued Eri, I couldn’t really do much of anything for a few days. I couldn’t even use my quirk without having to focus way too hard on it.”

“I don’t care about your stupid mission. Attack me! Attack, you damn nerd!”

“Is it… something like that for you too, Kacchan? …Is it something worse?”

“Mind your own damn business! And get out of the way before I fire at you!”

“Todoroki isn’t being too kind with his guesses. …Kirishima refuses to believe what Todoroki has to say, if that makes you feel better. But I think I know you a bit better than Kirishima, actually, and I’m not sure what to believe.”

“What makes you think I give a single shit about what Icy-Hot thinks? Or what you think?”

“Are you allowed to tell me what happened?”

“No.”

“…How bad is it? The thing that happened?”

“’How bad?’” Bakugou mocks. “Not at all! Zero! Nothing! Everything got resolved this morning. Nothing’s happening. There’s nothing more to it. You can tell that to Todoroki, and tell him he can keep his prying eyes the fuck off me cuz there’s nothing more for him to see. And you can fuck off for good measure too.”

“Everything got resolved… because of Fujimori?”

“We’re still fighting. Shut up and dodge! Attack! Do something!”

“Because – what Todoroki said – is that’s what Fujimori does. He makes problems go away. No matter what. By whatever means necessary. That he’s U.A.’s ace in the hole. That U.A.’s spotless track record – its perfect reputation – for decades…” Midoriya trails off. Bakugou falters at the sight of Midoriya wiping at his own cheek with the heel of his palm. “Stupid of me, huh, Kacchan?” Midoriya says with a bitter laugh. “I just assumed U.A. put out perfect heroes, all perfect heroes. That every pro from U.A. was like All Might. That every pro from U.A. just… could never do anything wrong. I idolized all of them. Every single one of them, for being perfect heroes. I thought Endeavor was a fluke… I wonder how many Endeavors U.A. has made?”

Bakugou lets out a strangled noise. He thrusts his right palm out with force, and he fires off a blast that lights and catches, erupting outward, hurdling toward Midoriya. Midoriya dodges it with hardly any effort, a simple step to the right and the blast does not so much as lick him. Midoriya doesn’t bother striking back just yet.

“What about you, Kacchan? …It wasn’t as bad as Endeavor, was it?”

“No—it—aggh! I told Icy-Hot it wasn’t even about me. My work-study—it’s just because my work study—”

“With Moonshot, yeah?” Deku curls a hand. He lets a wick of electric green static burst in his palm, which whips his hair with its ebb and flow. “Your work study is with Moonshot right now. Moonshot’s office is small. She only has herself and three sidekicks, and none of them are U.A. graduates. You’re the only person from U.A. working there.”

Deku strikes. His attack clips Bakugou’s left side. Bakugou bears it, not so much as a noise escaping his lips. He side-steps, ducks, and slams Midoriya beneath the ribcage with enough force to knock the wind from Midoriya’s lungs.

“You always think you’re helping, you damn fucking nerd. You’re not helping! You’re just prying into shit that doesn’t concern you. It’s over. It’s done with. And I can’t talk about it anyway! So shut up, before I make you shut up.”

Midoriya pulls in a few wheezing breathes. He coughs, and straightens, and speaks along a rasp.

“Actually… I don’t even think I’m trying to help, Kacchan. I want to help you. I always do. You know that. …But I’m afraid this might be something I can’t help with, or can’t bring myself to help you with, if Todoroki is right.”

“Icy-Hot knows nothing. He’s full of hot air and conspiracy theories, and it’s none of his business. Whatever he thinks happened is wrong, and he should shut the fuck up about it.”

“Are you sure he’s wrong… King Explosion Murder?”

“Shut up.” Bakugou’s palms crackle, and he squares his feet again. “Shut up and di--… Shut up and fight me.”

Bakugou doesn’t wait for a response. He throws himself right into the fray, with the one and only goal of firing his explosions off in quick enough succession to prevent Midoriya from getting another word in.

…

“Sensei! Sensei Sensei!”

Aizawa pauses at the sound of pounding mechanical feet hitting pavement, the rumble of vibrations shaking the ground, and fence, and rubble near Ground Beta. A wetness has stirred in the air, the threat of an impending thunderstorm.

“Iida, I was just coming to collect eve—”

“There’s a fight! Uh—well of course there are fights as this is a sparing match exercise but there is a fight which is not part of the designated sparing activity I mean! I’ve come to report an incident of student violence which I witnessed! I saw it happen and promptly came to find an authority figure and luckily you’re right here but I request you accompany me back to the meeting grounds where—”

“Who?”

“Bakugou, and—”

“Midoriya,” Aizawa concludes.

Iida shakes his head, frantic, spinning on spot and motioning Aizawa to follow as his suited legs take off once more. “Not Midoriya! Todoroki…”

Aizawa falters, and then he picks up his pace to match Iida. He steels himself, and it takes no longer than 20 seconds of threading through rubble for the two of them to round the corner, and enter the scene which had already announced itself with the rising cacophony of voices from 30 feet out.

With a split-second glance, Aizawa gleans three immediate pieces of information from the gaggle of 19 assembled students standing at the center of the training ground.

One, that Bakugou has been knocked down to the pavement, soles of his shoes, seat of his pants, and palms of his hands flat to the ground, left cheek split and leaking blood, with a creeping redness threatening to swell many times over in size across the breadth of the wound.

Two, that Midoriya has grasped Todoroki from behind, his arms looped up beneath Todoroki’s armpits and locked in place in a forceful attempt to restrain Todoroki, who’s lashing against the hold.

Three, that Todoroki’s right fist is split and bleeding, and he is staring down at Bakugou with the spark of murderous intent in his eyes.

“Tell me what you mean by ‘It’s been resolved’. It’s over? Meaning Fujimori already— What did you get away with? I think I know. I think I know what you did. So tell me I’m wrong. Tell me what that scumbag let you get away with.”

Bakugou says nothing. He raises his left hand to his cheek, pressing lightly. A heavy raindrop falls from above, landing with a patter on his cheek.

Todoroki pulls against Midoriya. “Answer me!”

“Todoroki!” Aizawa shouts. He marches forward, eyes alight with his quirk activation, though there is no need for it. Neither boy has used his quirk.

“This bastard’s been meeting with Fujimori.” Todoroki thrusts a hand out, index finger extended, sharp in its accusation as he turns bodily to Aizawa. “And whatever he did, he got off scot-free this morning! He’s bragging about it!”

“Todoroki. That’s enough.”

“He needs to tell us!” Todoroki challenges. A rumble of thunder affixes itself along the end of his words, as if chorusing agreement. “How can we be comfortable calling Bakugou a classmate until we know?”

“Midoriya, you can let him go. I’ve got this under control.” Aizawa’s eye flicker to Midoriya, who blinks, and hesitantly releases his arms from Todoroki.

Todoroki looks between Aizawa and Midoriya, his confidence wavering. “Sensei, you know who Fujimori is. You have to know who he is. You’ve been at U.A. long enough.”

“Yes, I know who Fujimori is. He’s a U.A. employee. Not a villain.”

“Then you don’t know who Fujimori is.” Todoroki counters. He thrusts both hands out. “He’s the reason my mom—he’s the reason my dad—he’s the reason I—” Todoroki catches himself all three times, unable to, or perhaps forbidden from saying more.

He backtracks, calms himself, a glint of desperation lighting in his eyes. Todoroki turns in place, bodily facing Bakugou once more. “Just defend yourself. Just tell me what happened. If you’re innocent then clear your name, and just tell us what Fujimori wanted with you! Why can’t you do that? Why?”

“Todoroki that is enough. This is not like you, and it is not acceptable,” Aizawa growls this time. He stalks forward, using himself as a means of separation between the boys, and he grips Todoroki by the shoulder. “I think you’re letting your personal feelings get in the way of common rationality. My office. With me. Now.”

Todoroki appraises Aizawa, and then his eyes go wide. A few more heavy drops leak from the blackened clouds above. They plick across Todoroki’s face, riding his expression, loosening with shock.

Todoroki opens his mouth, and the energy has been sapped from his words.

“…You know. You know what it is, don’t know? You’re part of this. You really are okay with this.”

“Not another word until we reach my office, Todoroki. If you defy me, I’ll consider it grounds for suspension.” Aizawa turns in place, and he surveys the rest of the class with deathly cold eyes. “Midoriya, Iida, take Bakugou to Recovery Girl’s office. Everyone else, get back to the dorm. I don’t want to hear a word about this by tomorrow morning, understood? The threat of suspension extends to all of you.”

There is a palpable unease in the air that rides along the rumble of the clouds. The rest of the students nod, Uraraka and Asui with a prick of tears at the corner of their eyes. Wordlessly, Iida extends a hand for Bakugou to grab, and lifts him from the ground.

Kirishima throws one last worried look in Bakugou’s direction as the skies fully open. The class is caught in the downpour, the scenery effaced by a thick sheet of heavy rain. The three boys vanish from view, and Kirishima raises an arm overtop his head for cover, and he joins the others headed back to the dorm.

…

Class begins wordlessly the next day. No one dares to mention it, but everyone has noticed Todoroki’s empty desk. The threat of suspension, of following in Todoroki’s footsteps, cows everyone into compliance. Bakugou sits stiff in his own seat, his insides too mangled, his dreams too riddled with his haunting memories playing on repeat to afford him more than a few moments of uninterrupted sleep the previous night. He feels full of cotton, his stomach in knots, his brain too much a hazy mess to make sense of what’s unfolded. His jaw has swollen, hot to the touch.

Aizawa enters, his face blank and tired. He shuffles a few papers and greets the class with a monotone Good morning. Most voices echo the greeting back, but quieter, mumbled. Only Iida seems to muster the energy for a proper greeting. The downpour from the previous day has lightened, but not vanished. It plicks against the muted gray windows, sealing in the atmosphere.

“The bin for your English essays is now on the front table. Present Mic says you may turn them in any time between now and Friday. Late submissions will not be accepted.” Aizawa shuffles the papers in his hands. “Also, we have another announcement.” Aizawa nods to the doorway. Faces turn.

Shinsou stands at the entrance, face drawn into a bit of a grimace. He rubs at his neck and looks away. “Um… Hi. I’m Hitoshi Shinsou. Some of you already know me.”

No one answers him, because the class already knows Shinsou, and they’re all weary of what answering him may lead to. On a different day, friendliness might have won out over fear. Today, no one can muster the optimism.

“He’s transferring into 1-A starting today. Please extend a warm welcome.”

Silence beats around them. Iida manages a clipped greeting. A few more students nod. Bakugou watches it all unfold from his hazy fog.

Shinsou is no more lively in his acknowledgement of his introduction. He looks away, hoisting his bag on his shoulder, and shuffles down the aisle. He reaches Todoroki’s seat, and places his bag atop it, and sits down.

Midoriya’s chair screeches backward. He is standing, his face a mask of concern. “Uh, Sensei, Shinsou, um, that’s Todoroki’s desk. Todoroki sits there.”

“Todoroki has decided to transfer to Shiketsu High School, effective today,” Aizawa states simply. “Sit down, Midoriya, and raise your hand in the future if you wish to speak.”

Bakugou feels the ripple through the air. The potent unease. The prickle of disbelief that comes in just the form of a few slipped gasps, a few wide eyes swinging to Todoroki’s seat, and then swinging over to him, as if staring at him may reveal the answers they’re never allowed to know.

The haze in Bakugou’s brain won’t let him think. It’s made worse by his own shock, and his own disbelief, and his own gnawing discomfort in his gut when he looks over, and finds Todoroki absent from his seat.

It’s Kirishima’s pained eyes that he accidentally meets in the process.

“Bro… what’s happening?” Kirishima leans across the aisle. He speaks as quietly as he can for someone suppressing shock. “Please man, please just tell me it isn’t anything bad. Tell me Todoroki was wrong. Please dude. Please, I just gotta know you didn’t—”

“Kirishima!” Aizawa barks from the front of the room. Kirishima goes stock-still, spine stiff, head snapping forward to face the teacher. Aizawa turns to face the board, and he grabs a piece of chalk, snapped at the midpoint, and begins to write textbook page numbers on the board. “Not another word on the topic. I thought I made myself clear yesterday, or would you like to be an example?” Aizawa turns, and lifts an eyebrow in Kirishima’s direction. Kirishima, white in the face, shakes his head. “Good. I didn’t think so. Now be quiet. Class is starting.”

#boku no hero academia #bnha #my hero academia #mha #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction #violence //#non-canon character death //#angst //#hello welcome to a bad idea that got worse.

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