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anauthore · 3 years

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Escape From Halloweentown {Jack Skellington x Reader} CHAPTER 2

Summary: When a game of hide-and-seek goes wrong, you find yourself lost in the woods without a way home. Whether it be fate, or just dumb luck, you suddenly find yourself in a far bigger predicament than you ever thought you would be- and it’s not just because you can’t seem to find your little brother.

Pairing: Reader / Jack Skellington. A very slow burn fic.

NOTE: This is a full-length fanfic! If you don’t want to read chapter by chapter on tumblr, please use the following links to read in a different format / on a different website!

Wattpad | Quotev | AO3

Fic Below the Cut | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A skeleton.

Or, at least, something not at all human.

Your eyes didn’t move from the creature at all, paralyzed to his tall, thin form and rounded skull with empty black holes for eyes. You could just make out his vertebrae peeking out from his suit’s collar, fused at the ends in what seemed more like a neck of bone rather than a spine.

He spoke, his voice not at all what you were expecting, his ‘lips’ parting to reveal yellowed, rotting teeth with yet another black void to make up his mouth.

“Why, hello! And who may you be, miss?”

His politeness stirred something up within you, although the primal fear you were experiencing was far stronger than any other emotion you’d ever felt in all 17 years of your life. You were stuck to the edge of the couch, feet spread so that if you had to, you could jump up and make an escape.

“Can you-” Jack turned to Prince, quieting his tone so that it wasn’t as menacing. “Can she hear me okay?” His brow bone was raised in what you read as concern which only confused you more.

Prince nodded, speaking in that scratchy voice of his that sent shivers down your back. “Yes, she can. She’s a human, you know- She shouldn’t be here.”

The other vampires agreed, nodding their heads. You realized that these vampire-obsessed ‘people’ probably weren’t people either, considering the monster that was Jack standing before you. Your heartbeat quickly and you felt more and more like a caged animal as every aching second passed.

“I know.”

They all turned to look at you, and you couldn’t control your breathing any longer. The fear you’d pushed down suddenly bubbled up and you could feel it turn into tears that threatened to spill from your lids.

“What are you gonna do?” You had to focus really hard to keep your lip from trembling. Your parents had taught you how to stand up to a predator, or a kidnapper, but never to a real-life monster. You imagined the worst and had forgotten everything you knew about self-defense. Right now, you were running on the ever building adrenaline and instinct in your body.

“We’ll just have to figure that out, won’t we?” His lips turned upward in a smile, and you couldn’t help but think that this must be what mice feel when they get put into a cage with a hungry snake. You couldn’t think of anything else to say, so you sniffed back your tears and kept quiet while you were in the spotlight of everyone’s scrutinous gaze.

You did the only thing you could do besides listening to their plans on what to do with you; you took in every detail you possibly could, from the bony hands and odd dress wear the men had to the interior decoration of the living room you were sitting in. You went as far as to describe the smell of the musk and mold in your head, just in case that would at all be important for a future investigation.

Your mind started to wander back to your brother. Had these monsters taken him, too? Oh, God, what did they do with him?

You bowed your head and let strands of your hair fall forward. You were ashamed to find yourself in this situation. You were ashamed to have even lost your brother in the first place. And now, you were ashamed to be stuck in a room with people you didn’t know, possibly a future murder case. You let a few stray tears run down your cheek, your chest aching and your nails digging into your thighs.

The floor creaked as someone moved, and your head jerked up to watch what they were doing. You stopped crying out of fear, though the blood had already begun to rush to your face and your eyes had started to swell.

Jack stepped forward, his spider-esque legs all you could see directly in front of you as he towered over your hunched form. He bent over so that he was face-to-face with you and extended a bony hand for you to take. You didn’t know whether you should take it or not, and so you didn’t.

His brow bone crooked upward and he put the hand on his hip, posing as if he were an angry teen girl. You would’ve found this humorous had you not been so scared.

“C’mon, now, don’t be so stubborn.” He reached out his hand once more, this time with more of an exaggerated flick of his wrist, and this time you took it, timidly placing your palm into his cold digits. He grasped your wrist, though it felt less like fingers and more like tiny, stone snakes curling around you. He pulled you up and put an arm around your shoulder, nudging you toward the door with his phalanges loosely wrapped around your flesh. “Out we go!”

The door opened again and he said goodbye to his partners in crime, walking you to a destination unknown. You had half of a mind to run- after all, the houses were as still as when you’d arrived, and there didn’t seem to be an extra step in the dirt anywhere. Still, you imagined that there were more menacing monsters out there besides Jack and the vampires, so you obeyed the skeleton man and went wherever he wanted you to go.

You passed the familiar fountain and he nudged you toward a road opposite of where you’d come in. You’d noticed it, sure, but you hadn’t given it a second glance. You regretted that now, because if you had, you might’ve had a better chance at planning your next escape- whenever that would be, if it would even have a chance to happen.

His pace quickened, his long legs using little to no effort at all as he walked next to you, who was struggling to keep up with him. He pushed you along gently- if you could call his bones prodding into your back gentle- and gave you very little time to look at the buildings that lined the street. You looked down at your feet most of the time, trying not to trip on a loose brick or stone.

When Jack stopped, you kept going, and he had to grab you by the hood of your jacket to keep you from running into a gate very similar to the one that you’d passed in the graveyard. You wheezed at having been nearly choked and stepped back, watching as he raised a brow and pursed his lip at you. You cleared your throat and apologized quietly, still very obviously afraid of him.

With one hand he gripped your sleeve and with the other he made a skeleton key seemingly appear from thin air. He unlocked the gate- black iron shaped to look like a jack-o-lantern- and pushed it open with his back as he pulled you along. You, of course, followed, glancing upward to realize that he was leading you toward the tower you had seen nearly from the forest.

It looked as if it were balanced precariously on the edge of the long line of steps that lead up to it. Your fear grew as now you weren’t only scared of Jack, but also about the possibility of this building collapsing under the weight and pressure it was put under. It must’ve been old- the windows looked like they belonged in a church and the wood was cracked and peeling. When you walked up the stairs, they creaked under your weight. You spotted numerous screws and nails loosened and sticking out from the sides- which were completely open and almost beckoning you to fall over the side to the ground.

The climb had your knees weak and your legs shaking as you struggled not to think about the steep drop you’d encounter had you tried to leave at this point. Your captor didn’t seem at all bothered- he opened up his front door just fine and pushed you inside the doorframe, which was stretched to accommodate his unusual height.

Immediately, the living room threw you for a loop. There was a single loveseat in the middle of the room, which connected to what you thought was a kitchen. Why a skeleton needed to eat, you didn’t know, but you hoped his diet didn’t consist of human.

He shut the door behind you both and continued to push you to the corner of the living room. There were yet another set of thin, precarious stairs that you climbed, leading to a spiral staircase enclosed in tube-like walls. Only when you reached the top was there a railing, decorated as every other railing in this town seemed to be. There were windows spanning the entirety of the wall all around you, save for where the fireplace and bookshelves were. Around there was normal décor; a telescope, playing cards and stuffed animals sitting on a desk with a chair neatly pushed into it, a dog bed, and a small, round rug that occupied one corner of the room. The only thing that stood out to you entirely was the electric chair replica opposite of where you stood. You wouldn’t put it past Jack for it to be the real thing, and you didn’t really want to find out, but you doubted that you had a choice.

He must’ve noticed your wide eyes taking in everything because he grabbed your shoulders and waved an arm in front of you in a grand gesture. “Now, I know this may be a lot to take in, but I promise this place is very accommodating.” He then positioned himself in front of you so that you had to look at him and smiled.

He moved around behind you and nudged you further, toward the chair that you had just been hoping you didn’t have to interact with at all. You froze up, looking back and forth between what you could see of him and the chair.

He patted the seat gently, as if it were a horse or a leather couch, obviously wanting you to sit. You started to shake your head, but he interrupted you once again with words.

“C’mon now, it doesn’t bite. It isn’t even plugged in! I know how fragile humans are, believe it or not. It’s comfortable, you’ll see.”

You still didn’t want to sit, and if you could, you’d avoid it at all costs. “No. I won’t sit.”

He paused, and for a moment you were afraid that you’d pissed him off. “Excuse me?”

You cleared your throat again, trying your best to focus on his eye-holes. “I said no. I’m not sitting in an electric chair. Please.”

He stood up and tilted his head, as though you’d offended him by not sitting down. “Very well then. I don’t think the floor is very comfortable, but if you’d rather make yourself at home there, then I won’t stop you.”

And just like that, the subject was dropped. He didn’t seem angry, or like he wanted to punish you. In fact, he seemed about as confused at your behavior as you were at his. Your mind was running rampant with possible explanations, none of which fitting the puzzle piece you needed to figure this endeavor out.

After another aching moment of silence, decorated by the sound of the wind against the glass outside, you asked what’s been on your mind since he’d arrived at the vampires’ house.

“What are you going to do with me?”

Jack sighed, and sat in the electric chair himself with a hand placed under his chin and his legs spread out so that he was comfortable.

“Well,” he stalled, making you think that he didn’t know what he was to do at all, “you’re staying with me.”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes, anger bubbling up within you. You had just been kidnapped, and all he could tell you was something completely obvious? You opened your mouth to retort, but you thought better of it. You still couldn’t put your finger on him.

He tilted his head to look at you, and you licked your lips out of nervous habit. The wind had made them dry, and you were starting to feel thirsty. Jack definitely had a keen eye, because his next sentence was right on par:

“Are you hungry? Or perhaps thirsty?”

You slowly nodded, walking on eggshells as to not trigger his back-and-forth nature. You were still afraid of him, and his kindness made you think about the very real possibility of becoming a sufferer of Stockholm Syndrome.

He stood from the chair and started to step forward to you. You took a step back and craned your neck to look up at him, hoping that you didn’t look as scared as you felt. He stopped and looked away from you.

“I-” he took in a breath and stared you down, his demeanor back to the way it was when you’d first met him. His voice boomed with authority now, his soft side (or whatever it was he’d shown you in the first minutes when you’d been introduced to his observatory) now completely gone. “I can’t leave you up here alone. You have to sit in the chair.”

You shook your head. Between everything, you’d gained some of your fighting spirit back, and so you spoke your mind. “No.”

He furrowed his brows and nodded. “Fine then.” He turned on his heel and reached into a box near the dog bed you were both standing next to. You didn’t give it a second thought until now- you didn’t see a dog, or even another animalistic creature, around him at all. Did he expect you to be his pet? Was this what this man got off on?

Your fears were confirmed when he held a collar already attached to a leash in his carpals. You stepped back once more, glancing behind you to make sure you weren’t cornered, and shook your head. “No. I am not going to be your pet.”

“I can’t trust you. This is necessary- stop making it harder than it needs to be. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Adrenaline pumped through you once more and you were ready to run. You didn’t care about the stairs or the fall anymore- you just wanted out. He unclasped the collar and stepped toward you, closing a good amount of the distance between the two of you with one step. You scrambled to action, turning and starting to run before you were yanked back by your hood, again. Your hands instinctively reached to your throat and you pulled to loosen the fabric, struggling to slide out of your coat and break away once again.

Jack was one step ahead of you. You pulled in your arms and he wrapped his own around your middle, pulling your hoodie over the top of your head and locking the collar around your neck with one swift motion. He let you go and yanked the end of the leash, fastening it to a hook on the chair that you had been avoiding this whole time. You stumbled backward and landed on your rear, sliding slightly on the tiles. In such a small amount of time, you’d been outsmarted and caged, unable to escape even if you tried.

You heaved out, pulling at the collar but to no avail. You ran your fingertips around the entrance of a keyhole, not having noticed a key on Jack other than his front door key. You glanced around from where you sat on the floor, defeated, and finally met Jack’s sockets. He didn’t say anything to you. He didn’t stand there, triumphant, nor did he bend down to hand you your discarded jacket from the floor near him. He was just stoic, an unreadable expression plastered on his features.

He finally broke your gaze and walked down the staircase, and somewhere at the bottom, you heard a door shut.

You didn’t want to cry. You didn’t want to even believe you were stuck here, quite literally on a leash, but this had quickly become your uncanny reality.

You reached for your hoodie and crumpled it up on your legs, burying your head in it and letting loose. You whimpered like a dog, sobbing into the fabric. It was your only connection to home now.

It was the only connection you had left, at this point, to your brother.

#anauthore #tnbc #the nightmare before christmas #fanfiction on tumblr #jack skellington x reader #jack skellington #the nightmare before christmas fanfiction #tnbc fanfiction #tnbc fanfic #slow burn

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clevercxs · 3 years

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Believer - Sigefrid Thurgilson [Ch 1]

[MORE CHAPTERS]

Pairing: Sigefrid Thurgilson x female oc

Word Count: 6.2k *Ongoing series*

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The Outskirts of Lunden

An unusually frigid night had fallen upon the land. Such darkness was disorienting as woodland creatures and wandering shadows seemed to play tricks on the young warrior’s eyes. Though her ears had become sharper, her mind was weary and riddled with paranoia. Every snap of a twig was perceived as a threat, even if it was only a deer or raccoon waking from its slumber to watch the Western-Saxons pass by.

The full moon, in all its glory, shined through the trees and cast an ethereal light upon the worn path she and her men travelled along; one interlaced with overgrown roots, decaying wildflowers, and fallen leaves that crunched beneath her steed’s hooves.

The descending blackness stirred a sense of claustrophobia within her, even though the forest stretched for miles and those traveling with her were not far behind. Nonetheless, she couldn’t help but feel alone; vulnerable, even, though not without the reminder of the heavy blade draped across her back.

A chilling breeze tore through her layers of cloth and chainmail armor, causing her core to contract and stiffen. Her tousled, unruly hair fell loose around her shoulders, whipping back in accordance to the harsh wind she faced head on. It was the type of coldness that seeped through her bones as if her skin were a door left wide open during a snowstorm. She knew, no matter how uncomfortable she felt, that they had to keep moving; keep pushing onwards and upwards north where her destination and the comforting thought of fire surely awaited her.

Her travels had not been easy thus far; even with torch light and enough supplies it was a journey only made under the greatest of needs. She knew the risks it posed not only for her, but for her kingdom back home. She was grateful for those brave enough to accompany her into the depths of the woods and beyond, unaware of the dangers lurking around every corner, and behind every tree.

The surrounding woods on either side of the path seemed unusually quiet; ominous, even.

An anxious feeling gnawed at her stomach yet she continued on until she reached a clearing suitable enough to set up camp for the night, seeing as they’d overstayed their warm welcome in Lunden and had travelled too far to return home.

Upon entering the clearing she felt compelled to stop in her tracks, tugging at the reins for her anxious steed to halt; he paced uneasily in a tight circle and refused to stand still. Her breath, in white plumes before her chapped lips, hung low the atmosphere before evaporating into the damp air.

“Easy, now. Easy.”

She cooed and leaned forward to rub its arched neck. With her eyes squeezed shut she exhaled slowly. Her hands began to tremble just as she swore she felt the heat of a thousand eyes burning into her.

Ever so methodically, with utmost caution, she reached over her left shoulder and withdrew her sword, now grasping it tightly in front of her. The hilt was bound with soft, black leather; the pommel decorated with a beautiful red stone similar to that of Uhtred Ragnarsson’s sword.

She paused and waited. Each breath she drew was slow and deliberate as she tried to remain calm and steady her heartbeat.

The sound of her men’s footfalls fell silent; not a single voice was to be heard. Alas, she could no longer see the orange flames of their torches from beyond the trees. It was as if they were never there at all, causing her to fear the worst.

How could they have fallen so far behind without me knowing?

Surely they would be fine without me if something were to happen...

All that could be heard was the sudden rustling of bushes and swirling of leaves overhead. A outcry of crows fleeing from the trees and soaring in to the night startled her upright as she watched them black out the moon.

Chills erupted from beneath her skin, traveling along the lengths of her arms and down her spine. She could hear the pulsing thud of her heart once more in her ears and feel every individual hair on her body prickle. Her breathing started to hitch and her chest tightened. She slowly turned her horse on its heels, panning around the area for any signs of life.

Something was off.

The air was still; heavy. She knew in that moment something had gone terribly wrong - and she wasn’t alone. She called out the names of her men - one by one - and when an unfamiliar voice replied she knew what fate had in store for them.

Out sprang a dozen or so Danes from beyond the bushes, wielding swords, axes, shields and other harsh weaponry. Her horse began to spook, rearing on its hind legs as the Danes drew nearer.

She was completely surrounded.

Their faces seemed to blur as she searched for a way out; a possible gap in the tight-knit circle of heathens closing in. Everywhere she looked she was staring into the tips of sharpened arrows ready for fire - all steadily aimed at her head in case she tried to flee.

There were flashes of metal swords reflecting the moonlight and burning torches all around; ferocious voices shouted threats and profanities at her as she began to lose control of her horse completely.

You’ll be alright. Breathe. Focus.

She swung her sword down at any Danes who dared come too close, though often met blades of their own and withdrew when she saw the chance.

“What do you want with me?” She cried out, as her horse reared once more towards a handful of gnarly Danes, striking one square in the chest and nearly kicking another in his stomach.

Others were laughing and cracking jokes amongst themselves, marveling in the joy of capturing someone - let alone a woman.

Seeing as no one was ready to talk, she pressed firmly, “We mean you no harm, I swear it.” She then found herself in a rushed panic, glancing all around her for some way out; some remedy to her troubles.

There were still no signs of her men.

“We were simply passing by on our travels. Nothing more.”

There was an uproar of hearty laughter. A short, rounded Dane came forward, wielding a worn axe in one hand that he gripped so tightly his knuckles had peaked white not unlike some snowy mountaintops. His hair, twisted and knotted into rows of golden braids upon his head draped down his back and swayed against his leather armor with each step. His curly beard was a wiry, unkempt bush showcasing two small horns woven into strands of silver growing from his chin. His eyes - a striking hue of emerald green - widened with bewilderment at the sight of the valiant Saxon woman riding before him.

“Your men…” he paused, “they will not survive their journey.” A subtle grin tugged at the corners of his lips as he slowly drew out his words; his eyes seemed to glow eerily in contrast to the smudges of kohl around his lids.

Before she could react, a series of blood curdling screams rang out from beyond the tree line. She craned her neck to face the darkness behind her, imagining the gruesome horrors occurring in her absence though she wasn’t sure if there was anything she could have done. Their cries of terror echoed throughout the night and pained every inch of her being knowing she could’ve prevented their deaths had she led them down another path.

Her entire body shuttered as she fought a sudden wave of nausea and dizziness. “I led good men to a slaughter.” She gasped, feeling tears strain in the back of her throat and guilt burning a hole into her conscience. “No… no t-this can’t be.”

“Where are you headed, woman?” The blonde Dane grumbled, the stylized mustache upon his lip dancing with each word.

“Mercia.” She croaked dryly. “We were to set up camp for the night, here in this clearing, and be on our way by sunrise. I had not realized we were in Daneland, I should have known better.” She cursed herself and lowered her sword as a sign of good faith, though the surrounding Danes took that as a sign of weakness and exchanged sly glances with each other.

They realized that things were heading in the right direction and according to plan.

“Now that we have cleared things up, I shall be on my way-“

Hæsten wasted no time in silencing the woman with the subtle raise of his hand. “When our scouts spotted a lady warrior in sparse company, well… I had to see for myself.” Hæsten took a step closer to get a better look. “…and I like what I see.”

“You’re a damned pig of a man-“

“-Hæsten.” He interrupted with a satirical bow and a glint of mischief in his eyes which caught her timid gaze. “You may call me Hæsten.”

“I shall not.” She spat bitterly.

“You know...” The blonde Dane began, “it’s dangerous for a woman to be alone in the woods….” He cocked his head to the side and smirked at a fellow Dane, before circling around her like a hungry lion stalking its prey; enjoying the game and anticipating victory. Once again her steed began to snort and pace uneasily. It anxiously pulled the reins through her fingers and stomped at the dirt.

Danes began to close in and the realization hit that she wasn’t going anywhere freely - or at all.

“I wasn’t alone until you ambushed my-“ She fumed, only to be startled mid sentence, “H-hey!”

Hæsten, losing all patience, had taken firm hold of her reins from the ground and another Dane had grabbed onto her ankle in an attempt to pull her off. Kicking him away in his jaw, she ceded all control over her horse which repeatedly tried to rear or flip over backwards as a way to escape Hæsten’s grip. It raised its head violently in the air - tearing not only the leather reins but the entire bridle free from its head.

A banshee’s shriek erupted from within her steed as if to signal her demise; the beginning of the end. Hot clouds of steam engulfed her body as she was completely thrown off balance.

Before she knew it she was airborne, suddenly feeling a sense of calm and weightlessness despite the chaos breaking out around her. Time slowed to a halt before reality struck - and it struck rather painfully. She was thrown onto the ground, a sharp pain scorching throughout her back as she groaned and writhed in agony.

She watched as the underbelly of her steed passed her over and revealed a distorted version of the night sky. She fought to keep her eyes open out of fear they may never reopen. For a moment she forgot where she was and what had happened, until she found the strength to sit upright and shake it off. She had no choice but to blink away the dizziness and subside the ringing in her ears.

Then she remembered everything.

She scrambled for her sword which had fallen mere inches away from where she landed and gripped it tightly as a form of reassurance.

“Enough!” She shouted windedly, struggling for a moment to rise to her feet. Adrenaline coursed through her veins thus numbing the pain from her fall. Despite the female warrior’s fury and sudden outcry, Hæsten continued towards her.

He was caught off guard by the feeling of a sharp, metal tip pressed into his throat. “I said that’s enough.” She growled, feeling a cold droplet of sweat run down the side of her face. “Don’t move.”

The world fell silent at her feet. No one moved as instructed; all voices ceased as the Danes found themselves holding onto their weapons a bit tighter than before. They hadn’t expected that of her and were apprehensive towards her capabilities.

They readied themselves to intervene at any moment.

“Here is how we will settle this.” She announced warily, not wanting to overstep any fragile boundaries. “If I defeat you,” She narrowed her eyes at the round Dane, “Hæsten, I go free.” A low murmur rumbled throughout the clearing. Hæsten shook his head with a chuckle of amusement, wholeheartedly believing such a thing couldn’t possibly happen. “But if I lose,” the lady warrior continued with a nervous gulp and stabbed her sword straight down into the dirt, “Then I shall go with you, willingly, as a hostage.” With both hands now raised, a spark ignited within the barbaric Danes who cried for the battle to begin.

There shall be bloodshed.

She could hear Hæsten’s name being chanted melodiously as if he’d already won; as if she absolutely stood no chance against him. Little did they know that she had been trained by the best in all of Wessex.

The sound of swords banging into shields and the stomping of heavy boots against the ground made it clear that the time to act was now. Hæsten raised his axe to the mighty gods above and roared at the top of his lungs, swearing victory and riches for all after she is defeated, captured, and ultimately sold for ransom or to a slaver.

This was her only chance of survival. She’d ran out of options and seeing as she was outnumbered and frankly, already in their possession, she had nothing to lose.

The Saxon warrior hastily retrieved her sword from the barren earth as Hæsten traded his axe for a blade alike hers.

“Have we reached an agreement?” Now finding her voice and inner strength, she readjusted her grip and whispered a quiet prayer.

Hæseten nodded once with a primal grunt, showing off for his fellow Danes before turning to face the courageous Saxon once more. “We have.”

“Okay Steapa.” She whispered beneath her breath and quickly braced herself for impact. “Let’s see how much I’ve learned.”

In a matter of moments the two lunged forth, the sound of metal upon metal clashing seemed to rattle every surrounding tree, and every Dane to their core. Haesten showed no signs of going easy on the lady warrior after realizing she was far stronger than she looked.

“We can stop this now,” she panted only a few minutes in, ducking below Hæsten’s swinging blade. Her eyes widened at the loud whoosh that barely grazed the top of her head.

That was too close for her liking.

“Unless… you plan to kill me?” She teased lightly with a grunt, deflecting Hæsten’s sword once more, and using her upper body strength to push him back; his blade had come within inches of her nose before she’d done so.

Again, that was way too close for her liking.

“Saxon bitch!” Hæsten roared out of frustration after seeing she’d managed to counter all of his attacks and hold her own against him. He began to question whether or not he’d grown weaker, or perhaps he’d met his match once and for all.

The two danced around the circle as if it had been a choreographed performance. Periodically she was able to slice his forearm or lower leg while remaining unscathed herself. Her blows were swift and calculated like a venomous snake striking its next meal.

She moved swiftly; light on her toes and agile with each move. As time progressed she felt herself slowing down from fatigue and hunger. Hæsten, on the other hand, was fully rested and fed - as well as increasingly hostile by the minute. He had more to prove than she; for only her life was on the line, not family honor, pride, or reputation.

There was no way he was losing to a woman.

In a moment of weakness Hæsten knocked the sword from her grasp with his own and the woods erupted into fits of hysteria. As she stumbled backwards, he strode towards her and kicked her square in the stomach which sent her back a few feet until she landed in the dirt. She could feel rocks and twigs clawing into her skin but forced herself to ignore the pain.

With a heavy groan she laid there for a moment, wheezing and applying pressure to her aching ribs. She then began to gurgle on blood which she coughed up to the side. Hæsten appeared in her peripheral vision, causing her to scramble backwards on her elbows until her back bumped into the legs of a snaggle-toothed Dane. He lifted her from behind by her armpits and threw her back into the circle where she fell to her hands and knees.

Her arms began to quiver and threaten to give beneath her weight. She gagged and heaved over streams of crimson blood oozing from her mouth, slowly dripping down the length of her chin and into the puddles already soaking into the ground.

“You’re a si-“ she choked, “sick bastard!”

“You do not know when to give up, do you?” Hæsten shook his head with a scoff of disbelief, showing off by twirling his sword between his fingers and around his wrist.

He practically skipped over to her like a jolly elf of sorts, making a show out of his conquest, and delivered a swift kick to her stomach once more, causing her to flip onto her back like a fish out of water.

Crack!

The sound of her ribs breaking made even the toughest of Danes there visibly cringe.

She cried in agony, pleading for the blonde to show mercy and accept his victory. Fighting for air as blood consumed her entirety, she managed to dispel most of it over shoulder and in between uncomfortable groans.

“Where is your God now?” Hæsten mocked, kicking her in the side of her head as he strutted past her form lying in the dirt.

“Slit her throat!” An older Dane demanded, causing Hæsten to grin from ear to ear. He’d already planned to do so, though after he was completely finished with her. Killing her now would be too soon for his liking. Besides, where’s the fun in that? “Kill that Saxon bitch!”

“N-no… don’t.” She choked on her words, fighting back not only blood but a distraught sob brewing in her throat.

The shouting of triumphant Danes all around her faded into a muffled silence. Exhaustion had taken firm hold her conscience. Her body felt as if it had been dragged to Hell and back. Her pounding head was a cloudy mess, and her spirit had been greatly damaged though not beyond repair.

He’s trying to kill me.

Summoning all of her remaining strength, ever so gradually, she rolled onto her hands and knees and picked up her sword. Once on her feet she swayed unsteadily on her heels. Her left hand remained a constant upon her tender ribs.

She could hear various gasps from Danes gaping in bewilderment at the sight before them. “No! Impossible!” Hæsten shouted, fuming at the mouth like a rabid dog. “Why won’t you just give up?!”

“Well,” She panted with a weak puff to blow strands of hair from her eyes. She found herself resting upon her sword for balance as her wobbly knees began to buckle, “Glory or Valhalla, right?” As she raised her sword towards his chest one last time, shaking, she couldn’t help but hiss in pain.

Then her arm fell limp to her side as she felt the ground beneath her boots rumble with the sound of thundering hoofbeats nearby.

Hæsten quirked an eyebrow and smirked. “Have you-“

It was as if the earth had come alive at the right time and began to shift beneath the weight of their swords.

Saxons? She wondered. Please let it be Saxons.

Where light met dark, Danes parted ways to reveal a monstrous figure emerging from beyond the shadows like an angel of death. A sleek black steed clad in heavy armor gave a deafening neigh, seeming to have emerged from the fiery depths of Hell, thus leading her to wonder who so valiantly rode upon its back.

Soon the lady warrior would come to learn that he was the living embodiment of the heathen spirit. Fearless. Brutal. Driven.

Glancing around her, not a single Dane dared to move or speak. Some even opted to take a knee out of respect for their presumed leader. He seemed to strike fear of the gods within their damned souls with his mere presence alone - and that frightened her.

“Dear god.” She gasped, making out the man before her to be the bane of all evils.

Hæsten’s chest rose and fell drastically with each breath he took. He seemed to sheepishly back away from the circle as if he feared being caught for doing something wrong. The unknown Dane immediately dismounted his steed, landing with a heavy thud. He then strode towards the Saxon before him.

When he stepped out of the darkness and into the moonlight she audibly gasped at his primitive ferocity. Never before had she seen a man of his nature. He was the epitome of childhood nightmares; the type of monster mothers told their children about at night to scare them out of their bad behavior.

In stark contrast to Hæsten he was a tall, brawny Dane who willed the strength and courage of the gods. His jet black hair was as sleek as a raven’s feathers, though shaved at the sides and bound by a single braid wrapped in coils of leather down the middle of his head. His beard was far shorter than Hæsten’s. It was black as night and drawn into two parts with a silver ring on each like the devil’s own beard. Below furrowed, stern brows were a pair of brown eyes encompassed by dark smudges of kohl. Upon his forehead was a deep scar to remind him of a past victory, she was sure of it. His teeth, sharp and dagger-like, were made visible as he drew his lips into a wicked grin.

His broad chest displayed layers of leather and metal armor, and around his waist hung a sword that nearly reached the ground. Though the most startling thing she noticed, after granting herself permission to stare, was the fact that his right hand had been entirely replaced by a small sword.

Her mind had a funny way of imagining things; potential scenarios as to how he could have lost it. The fearsome warmonger had a tendency of acting first and thinking later… which ultimately resulted in the loss of his hand not long before tonight.

“What do you know of Valhalla, woman?” His deep, powerful voice thundered throughout the entire woods.

“I know that if you come any closer, I shall send you there myself.” She cautioned with her sword held out painstakingly in front of her. She then peered over her shoulder towards the blonde Dane who’d caused her such discomfort, “Right after Hæsten.”

The dark haired Dane chuckled lowly, shortly followed by his loyal followers who did the same.

“You are broken… yet you refuse to surrender?” A puzzled look had bestowed upon his face, replacing his once menacing expression. He struggled to understand the disarrayed woman stained in red. “Why?”

“You may break every last bone in my body, but you shall never break my spirit.”

He quirked a dark brow and recalled hearing a Dane recite similar words before.

“I am a warrior at heart. I will keep fighting until my last dying breath.” She shuffled closer, now aiming her blade at his stomach. Her voice had dissipated to a faint whisper only loud enough for him to hear. “…which may be sooner than I’d hoped.”

For a brief moment their eyes met and she watched his expression soften ever so slightly. It was almost as if he understood, or perhaps respected to some degree, her will to live though it went against everything he stood for.

“I fear Hæsten has already killed me… though there is something I must do.”

The Dane’s full attention fell low to her blood stained hand pressed against her ribs. He doubted her ability to continue though was eager, in a selfish way, to see her in action once more… even if it resulted in her death. In battle she was mesmerizing to watch - like a seductive flame dancing in the breeze - that he couldn’t pry his eyes away from. How strange a sight, he thought, to see a Saxon woman wield the strength of a Dane.

His face was tinged with discomfort. He seemed to feel a bit uneasy, though would never admit it, at the alluring woman mangled and broken before him. She was the enemy, yes, but she was different. He couldn’t wrap his mind around her and that bothered him greatly.

Who was she?

Aside from her exceptional swordsmanship it baffled the Dane leader how little she feared him, or how well she was able to mask said fear.

A woman who is fearless is a woman capable of anything. That alone was enough for him to be weary of her intentions, especially after everything she’d been through. With a forced, throaty grunt he nodded, dismissing the lady warrior to fulfill her last quest. “Very well.” He pursed his lips and stepped aside. A small part of him dreaded what was to inevitably become of her. One thing was for certain: he would never allow himself to forget her fortitude and undeniable bravery. Images of her fighting Hæsten would forever be ingrained in his mind. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman - neither Saxon nor Dane - had impressed him as much as she had. The grace in which she wielded her sword, and the eloquence of her movements captivated him in a way he’d longed to feel for ages.

There was something about her he couldn’t let go of; something he wouldn’t dare let slip away at the hands of Hæsten. She was everything he’d dreamt of finding in a woman - her only flaw being the Saxon blood running through her veins. Distracted, he became lost in his head at the thought of running his fingers through her dark, cascading ringlets of hair. He imagined what it would have felt like to caress the fair skin upon her cheeks, or plant a kiss upon her soft, plump lips - and to have her reciprocate his feelings. He could imagine them fighting side by side; warriors by day, lovers by night.

Sure, Sigefrid has his choice of any woman back at Beamfleot - whores, slaves - but they were all the same to him. He wanted her.

No; Sigefrid needed her.

But as soon as that realization hit he feared he was too late. By the time he looked up to see the damage that had been done, to his utter surprise, Hæsten had been pinned by his wrists - one appearing to be broken - and with a knee pressed into his stomach. His bloodied clothes were tattered and shredded to pieces.

Sigefrid let out a breathy laugh of relief; his eyes lighting up and dazzling beneath the night sky. He grinned from ear to ear and pushed his way through the Danes that stood before him. A rush of hope and giddiness surged through his body as he realized she wasn’t done for.

From atop of Hæsten she reached into his pocket and withdrew a knife. Before she could use it on his throat, as she’d planned to, something pierced through her right shoulder causing her to drop the knife and yelp like a wounded animal caught in a trap. A hot, thick stream of blood began to pour down her arm as her entire body trembled.

She could feel herself going into shock.

She could hardly breathe let alone react properly. There, as clear as day, was a crooked arrow protruding from her shoulder.

“Y-you cheating bastard!”

“NO!” Sigefrid roared and rushed towards her, stopping briefly to slit the throat of the archer who fired the arrow with his hand-blade.

Everyone gasped at Sigefrid’s sudden outburst though it was nothing new or unusual - just unexpected.

“You knew this was coming.” Hæsten sneered, lifting his head from the ground and crawling out from beneath her. He rose to his feet and lifted her chin with his dirty fingers to look her in the eyes though her gaze fell elsewhere. She was a bloody, filthy, sobbing mess being held together by his hand. “Such a shame.” He frowned, “You were a pretty one.”

“Please don’t…..kill me.” She croaked, slowly wrapping her fingers around the splintering arrow. “P-please.” She gurgled on blood which erupted from the corners of her lips like a volcano. “Please!” She sobbed. “You cheating pig!” She shrieked though Hæsten’s fingers slipped from beneath her chin. He had disappeared behind Sigefrid’s towering form. She’d hardly blinked before Sigefrid’s fist pummeled into the side of Hæsten’s face. As the round Dane fell to the ground she noticed he was out cold - if not dead - and all it took was one hit.

Why would Sigefrid punish him so? How could he chose her over his own man?

“No one is to lie a hand upon this woman.” Sigefrid pointed down at her with his hand-blade. “No one. Not a hand, or I will personally cut it off and beat you with it.”

She was starting to dissociate from reality as everything began to fade into black. She fought her hardest to stay awake to hear what was going on but it was no use. Sigefrid slid down on one knee and caught her before she toppled over. He cupped her face with his rough, calloused hand and frantically shook her awake, resting the back of her neck in the crook of his other elbow - minding his blade.

“No! Damn you!” He growled, seeing as his attempt to bring her back had failed. “Damn you woman! Open your eyes!”

Her breathing grew fainter and fainter. The sound of his voice had muffled and her eyes were sealed shut. Sigefrid, frightened by the idea of losing her, took a firm hold of the arrow in her shoulder. With a swift tugging motion he jerked it free from her shoulder and tossed it aside, frowning when her body didn’t reacted in the slightest from the pain it should have caused her. She still didn’t wake up.

He felt himself running out of options as he watched her head roll around his arm. Her chest ever so faintly rose and fell, giving him hope the hope he needed to keep trying.

Everyone watched in awe as their Lord fought to save her life. Never before has he shown such empathy towards another - perhaps not even towards his own brother Erik. There was something about the fair skinned woman that beckoned for him to save her. It was almost as if the gods themselves had began to root for her survival, acting through Sigefrid to ensure it happened.

Hæsten, regaining consciousness, stumbled his way over towards his Lord. Her body fell completely limp in Sigefrid’s arms as he held her close, looking down upon what could have been his future; and a glorious future at that.

“She’s dying, Sigefrid.” Hæsten muttered, feeling a pang of guilt in his chest for what he’d done, especially after seeing how deeply it affected him. “She is a Saxon, Lord.”

“I…don’t…care.” Sigefrid snarled, craning his neck to glare at the blonde Dane before turning to face her again. “Who is she?”

“Lord, she-“

“I will not ask again.” Sidefrid shouted impatiently and rested the back of her head upon his knee. “Tell me. Now.”

“She is King Alfred’s eldest daughter - Blædswith - Lord. She serves Uhtred Ragnarsson.”

Such a name was poison upon his tongue.

Sigefrid scowled bitterly and felt his stump of a hand ache beneath its barbaric contraption of wood and weaponry.

“Uhtred Ragnarrson.” His words were low and drawn out as he recalled the man behind the name whose face repeatedly haunted him at night. “That explains it.”

Allowing for his head to drop between his shoulders, dangerously close to her face though his eyes were closed, Sigefrid sighed heavily and realized what he had to do. He felt defeated; deflated, even.

He should have known that she was simply too good to be true. A mere trick from the gods above dangled before him; unattainable. Perhaps was a test of his loyalty — and he nearly failed.

Alfred’s daughter was the physical embodiment of his deepest, darkest desires - yet the thought of her now sickened him; pained him. He couldn’t keep her name out of his head even if he’d tried.

“She is a princess.”

“Yes, Lord.”

Sigefrid’s eyes shot open after feeling her stir in his arms and regain consciousness. When her crystal blue eyes reopened they immediately met his, which seemed to be mixed with loathing, sadness, and genuine worry. She didn’t scream nor try to push him away; she didn’t feel in any imminent danger despite who he was.

Dazed and disoriented, Alfred’s daughter was like a newborn baby seeing the world for the first time.

“Sigefrid?” She moaned ever so faintly, reciting the last thing she heard before everything went black. The name was familiar to her; she’d heard her father discussing matters regarding the bloodthirsty Thurgilson brothers - Erik and Sigefrid - and how big of a threat they were to the crown. Erik was known to the the more thoughtful, less violent one of the two. Sigefrid - the one holding her in his arms - was infamous for being a brutal terror of villages and ravanger of women.

Yet, she wasn’t afraid.

For reasons unknown to her, Lady Blædswith had become an exception to his cruel ways... at least for now.

Her hand steadily crawled towards her arrow wound and stopped in disbelief. “It’s gone? You… saved my life? M-my father will… he will hear of this. Of you, Sigefrid.”

“Oh, I’m sure he will.” Hæsten teased and Sigefrid brushed him off. “And when he does he is sure to pay rather handsomely.”

Sigefrid stood tall and lifted the princess with him. Taking her left hand firmly in his, he raised it to the skies evoking his fellow Danes to cheer.

“This here,” He began, “Is the daughter of King Alfred! Defeated; weakened. Ours for the taking!” In one swift movement Sigefrid swept her off her feet and hoisted her onto his valorous steed. Once situated behind her, he wrapped an around around her waist from behind and held on tightly to her slender frame. He would ensure there was no way she was escaping his grasp, for she was far too valuable.

“That hurts.” Lady Blædswith winced, “Sigefrid.”

He repositioned his blade-clad arm so they were both comfortable. As their bodies molded together beneath the stars she couldn’t help but feel safe for the time being. Surely nothing bad could happen to her whilst on horseback.

Sigefrid had done her no harm though she feared what he intended to do with her once they arrived at their destination.

Once all of the Danes were mounted and ready, Sigefrid led the way into the unknown territory of Daneland.

“Lady Blædswith, you will be our path to glory!”

____________________ ➴ ____________________

“Where are you taking me?” The princess questioned softly whilst leaning into his chest. The two swayed back and forth, left and right, with the rhythm in which his steed walked, occasionally passing through creeks or rounding steep corners.

She could feel the warmth of his breath down the back of her neck though it didn’t bother her in the slightest; she had bigger things to worry about. If anything, it was as if it comforted her and served as a reminder that she wasn’t alone against Hæsten.

Sigefrid pressed his lips into the back of her hair and replied, “Beamfleot. Have you heard of it?” She nodded her head against his lips and he grinned. “What have you heard of my brother and I?” Though his eyes rested on the trail ahead of him, his full attention had fallen elsewhere.

“Terrible things.” She replied shyly and felt Sigefrid’s chest rumble with laughter. “I’m serious.”

“Oh? Do tell.”

“You are power hungry. You thrive o-on chaos and war, and leave a trail of bodies behind wherever you go.”

Sigefrid chuckled darkly, “Well, that is all true.”

“Even women and children.” Lady Blædswith added. “Is that true?”

He leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “If it was... would you then fear me, princess?”

“No.” She could feel her body surrendering to the sound of his voice and the heat of his touch. “I do not believe you to be as they say.”

Lady Blædswith turned in the saddle as far as she could to look at him, and hadn’t realized how close their faces were until their noses almost brushed against each other. Her cheeks burned a bright pink from their shared moment of near intimacy. For fear of giving him the wrong impression she turned back around and clutched the horse’s mane, twisting it between her fingers.

“After everything that has happened… you still think greatly of me.” He became fixated on the Saxon princess, no longer watching where he travelled.

“Greatly is a stretch, however you did spare my life. That must count for something?”

Sigefrid rolled his eyes. “You believe me to be good.” A hint of amusement tugged at his words at the mere thought of being the man she’d hoped for. “Do you not?” He hummed

“I-I would like to. Make me a believer.”

And so he would.

_______________________________________________

A/N: This was so much fun to write, I look forward to the next chapters ;) I’m new to writing on tumblr so all reblogs and shared are appreciated!

Inspired by: @finantheagile and @inforapound, you two are such talented writers!

TLK fans who may be interested:

@cheapcakeripper @wildwren @metall-and-dust @onesaltyhunter xx

Special thank you to @wessexcrown for helping me with ideas for this fanfic along the way!! Feel free to ask to be added to my tag list xx

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a-monsters-love · 4 years

Text

Spice

[Master List]

Art credit goes to: @ianterweb -- [Original Post]

Bakugo x Reader

Warnings: swearing (obvi it’s Bakugo), blood, a drop of gore (not in a stomach churning way), toy guns, implied pining, spoilers if you haven’t watch season 4, mentioned of death, Slow Burn

Genre: angst, fluff, combat

Word count: 12k

Time Line: I extended the timeline around between the provisional licensing exam and the work study program, part of me doesn’t think irl they’d just thrown out of the frying pan and into the fire.

A/N / Inspiration: So I rewatched ATLA and honestly I really wanted a Ty Lee styled reader for this, like just upbeat and positive but irl she’s got demons. Also I fully believe Ty Lee could kick Bakugo’s ass, no one can change my mind. I firmly believe he needs an S/o who can just whoop his ass, part of me thinks that’s the only way he’d ever accept a crush or a relationship.

*So like, if (y/n) fought like Ty Lee who uses Tai Chi and Dim Mak (loosely translates to “Touch of Death” but we know it as chi blocking)

*All Tai Chi and Yoga pose names I fully researched

*don’t @ me for this but because their classes only carry 20 students I’m sacrificing our sweet boy Rikido Sato (code name: Sugarman) b/c I haven’t seen enough of his character to know how to write him :L #TheProverbialSacrificialGoat

(Y/N) = Your Name

(Y/N/N) = Your Nickname

(L/N) = Last Name

(H/C) = Hair Color

(S/C) = Skin Color

(E/C) = Eye Color

(H/L) = Home Land i.e country of origin

——————

“Listen up.” Aizawa Sensei announced to the class dropping a book on his podium, gathering the classes attention he lazily sighs before speaking again. “As you’ve all noticed we still have an empty seat in the back of the class,” He points his hand in the general direction. “Moving forward, I have to introduce you to a new student to the class.” On cue the classroom door slides open, you walk in calmly despite your excitement. Your (H/C) hair is pulled up into a neat bun with your bangs clipped to the side, the only addition to your uniform being a pair of half palmed white gloves, you can feel everyone’s eyes scanning over you as you waltz in. “This is (L/N) (Y/N), I’ll let her introduce herself.” He finished as he stepped into his sleeping bag.

You glanced over at your new teacher, quickly understanding what kind of person he is before looking back at the class. “Hello, please feel free to call me (Y/N/N).” You giggle softly, “I just moved to Japan from (H/L) and it’s my understanding you guys have been together for sometime so I‘ll be in your care.” You smiled sweetly and gave a delicate bow.

“You’ll be sitting behind Koda,” He pointed to the obvious empty seat, “Between Ochaco and Shoto.” Aizawa Sensei made little effort to discern the two. “(Y/N) has already been moved into the dorms so I expect everyone to do their part in helping her get settled.”

You only smiled as you made your way to your desk, shaking hands and giving polite greeting to your new desk mates. The girl beside you made quick work of making friends with you, the boy in front of you was extremely shy but made his own effort to wave back at you. You listened in on the class as the morning babble began, whispers in curiosity and a few waves and smile. You can feel a creepy gaze that made your skin crawl and heard a single but loud tongue click. “Another extra.” You heard him groan, the comment only made you snort a bit before the lecture started.

You took color coded notes based off theme and what you decided or Aizawa Sensei said was important. Ochaco whispered about how cute your notes are causing you to whisper and explain why you did it. You noticed the way Shoto listened in on your organization explanation when you silently offered him a red and green pen. He took them both gratefully and confused at your action before deciding to make his own version of you system. When first period was over your desk was swarmed by your new classmates.

You smiled brightly as they all introduced themselves when a boy, who introduced himself as Iida, tried to dispel the mob. “No-no it’s okay, we have plenty of time to get acquainted anyway.” You reassured him bashfully as the slimy kid, who introduced himself as Mineta, got a little too close for comfort. You took great pleasure in watching the pink girl grab him by the ankle and drop him in the trash.

It was then that you heard a soft and almost awkward voice, “Can I ask what your quirk is?” Asked the green haired boy, Izuku is what someone called him.

“Of course!” You beamed, his clear anxiety from the question washes away as he pulled out a beat up notebook. “My quirk is called Molecular Regeneration, so basically Healing+, from what Aizawa-Sensei explained to me this morning I’ll be able to fully show everyone during gym.” You scanned over the group and motioned for Denki to come over. “I can heal little things like this pimple-“ You removed a glove and tapped his skin, fading the pimple away. “To great wounds, within reason of course. I have to eat a ton of food for the carbs, fats, proteins and all the extra good stuff if I use my quirk excessively but it’s a trade off I’m happy to make.” You put your glove back on and rubbed the back of your neck as you watched Izuku beam and start spiraling as he took notes. One of the other students explained that he does that often.

——

During gym everyone was paired up to fight, for practical and strategical purposes. Everyone gasped when Aizawa paired you up with Bakugo, saying it was cruel and you were new. You giggled at their concern, knowing full well that you could and have taken the blunt of an actual bomb and come out fine. Well fine-ish. “I paired them up purposely because I know he’ll be able to go all out and she’ll be fine.” He droned at his gaping students.

Each pair took turns, you watched everyone fight, analyzing their fighting styles noting where they went wrong. Your mother was a trained martial artist so you learned at a young age to do this. When your turn arrived you were excited to finally get up. You decided to take off your shoes as the boots you were provided weren’t practical for how you fought. “Don’t expect me to go easy on you just because you’re a girl.” Bakugo hissed.

You just smiled widely, “I’d be insulted if you did.” You chuckled, stretching a bit before getting into the Brush Knee starting position, legs spread slightly with a bent knee, one palm flat towards the ground and the other raised facing the boy. You looked relaxed, which seemed to anger him. As Aizawa blew his whistle he was quick to charge, when he got close you slapped his inner wrist the back of each hand. This pushes his arms to his sides as you twist around him and aggressively push on his spine with your palm causing him to falter forward. “Don’t expect me to go easy on you just because you’re a boy.” You teased at him, the face he made was that of confused rage.

“You think you can beat me with a few slaps?” He chided, earning a laugh from you as he charged again.

“I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.” You snorted.

His wrists sparked as he aimed to use his quirk on you, “We’ll see about that.” You could almost hear amusement in his voice as he made a circle out of one hand and shot exploding bullets at you. You barely managed to dodge as you pushed yourself into a backhand spring, you confused him when you used your arms to push towards him.

He went to use and exploding hand to punch at you as you jabbed repetitively at his quirk fueled arm. His explosion dissipating as his arm went limp. “I suppose we will.” You beamed close to his face before failing to see the swift kick he struck your side with, easily throwing you from your close proximity. You chuckled a bit with a small cough as you skidded in the distance, didn’t see that coming.

“What the fuck did you do to my arm?” He demanded an answer as you ran back and cartwheeled towards him using the propulsion to jump at him, aiming a leg to kick him from the side. Knowing he’d reflexively block the kick when you were close you used your other foot to kick his chin upwards.

Your kick was successful and satisfying, “Dim Mak, also known as Chi Blocking.” When he regained his stance from your kick you jabbed at his other arm causing it to go limp. You stood beside him as he groveled a bit. “And with that~ I think I win, I don’t think it’s much of a fair fight at this point.” You smiled sweetly at him.

Aizawa whistled again to end the match, you grabbed Bakugo’s wrist shaking the limp limb to Aizawa when you heard a pop, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” You quietly warned him still holding his wrist with a smirk but being who he is as a person the hand you held exploded with his quirk.

You heard an audible scream from the class, after the dust dispersed your hand was basically gone. Your radius and ulna bones were cracked and broken poking up from your tattered forearm, blood splattered across both your face and Bakugo’s. All the rage that quelled in his system wiped clean with a guilty and horrified expression, seeing the blood that soaked part of your hair and the mess he created. “Oh fuck, I-“ He started but realized you were still smiling, even as blood dropped down your arm. Aizawa groaned loudly.

“Well, that was… spicy.” You snorted. Within moments the bones started to grow where your hand once was, thick red muscles climbed the bones followed by skin. You were regenerating your hand, you smiled but your gaze was dark as you stared at him. “I told you not to do that.” Using your newly regrown hand you punched him in the side of the face causing him to hit the floor, hard.

“I deserved that one.” He mumbled quietly on the ground, you stood over him smiling smugly.

“Come on, get up and let me fix your arms.” You waved for him to sit up before looking to Aizawa, “I’m leaving early after this for a shower.”

“Please.” He sighed, sending up the next group who were just staring at you in a mix of horror and awe. “We don’t have all day.” Aizawa said.

You sat Bakugo down and sat behind him, almost forcing him to lean his back into your knees and shins. “Alright, Spice, let me fix your nerves.” You removed the glove that didn’t get blow up and pulled at a limp arm, using your quirk to heal the damaged nerves as well as massaging into pressure points to release the tension you forced into his blood stream. He groaned in agony before sighing in relief.

When you were done he rubbed his arms and hands as the prior numbness faded, he looked back at you as you decided to heal the burnt skin on your shoulder and cheek. You smirked when you caught his gaze on you, he ruffled his hair aggressively as he got up and ushered you to follow him. You both needed to head to the dorms to clean up, as you followed behind him you heard him mumble. “I’m sorry.” He earned a chuckle out of you causing him to look back. I just blew up your literal arm to the bones and you were acting like a ray of fucking sunshine, he thought to himself as confusion knitted his brows. “I’m not sure what happened, I didn’t know I could be that lethal.” He admitted almost hissing out the words as if they were painful.

“I’m not mad, Aizawa paired me up with you for that reason.” You shrugged bashfully, “And what happened back there was kinda… mostly my fault..” Your admission seemed to confuse him more. “When I jabbed you’re arms I disrupted your blood flow and by default your quirk. You have a strong one so it essentially grew like an actual bomb and exploded more or less on its own.” He watched you explain, you just hoped he wouldn’t feel too guilty. “Look. If you’re sorry just get me lunch or something, Spice.” You smiled softly at the comment as you finally got to the dorm, making your way to your rooms to grab a change of clothing and then to your respective bathrooms to shower.

Bakugo grumbled over the whole ordeal before settling on the new nickname you’ve given him. Spice. What the fuck is that about, he couldn’t wrap his head around it but he learned quickly that he wouldn’t be able to stop you. You made that clear when you essentially wiped the floor with him, the thought of that made him yell out in frustration. “Stupid girl.” He hissed as he got dressed.

You were waiting for him at the door in a fitted t-shirt and your gym shorts. Flitting through your phone aimlessly, he noticed your usual smile was gone. Replaced with something bored and almost listless, when you noticed him your lips curled at the edges into a soft smile. “Come on, Spice.” You waved for him as you opened the front door.

“Stop calling me that.” He snapped, frustrating that he could tell you wouldn’t.

You snorted with a loud ‘HA’, “Would you prefer Spicy Boy? Blasty? Bomb-dot-com? Oh! What about Limb Remover?”

Bakugo groaned trying to walk faster than you, “No!” He hissed at you, eliciting a hearty laugh from you.

“Spice it is.” You wink as you took lead almost skipping in front of him. He groaned loudly as you joined the rest of your class before gym was over. The two of you bickered back and forth for sometime and you could only laugh at his rising and dwindling frustration. Kirishima joined the conversation, fist bumping the only other person he could imagine withstanding an explosion from Bakugo. You could hear Izuku spiraling behind you and decided to turn a bit to answer his questions. “I’ve never successfully grown other people’s limbs or organs back but I can accelerate growth of, like, hair and finger nails.” You commented to one of his questions. “Though if you’re arm got like cut off cleanly I could potentially reattach it, I imagine it wouldn’t feel the same though.” You scratched at your damp hair that was now down from its bun to dry, your mouth was slanted not quite a frown but it was obvious to anyone that the gears in your head were spinning.

Bakugo just stared at you with half lidded eyes as you spoke, part of him wanted to hiss at Deku to piss off with his nerdy ass research note book. However when you pulled the note book from Izuku’s hands and flitted through it with knitted brows and scold him for the condition of the note book it almost earned you a laugh. Almost. When you asked about the burns on the notebook he was hesitant to answer, “Accidents happen.” Was all he managed, you gave him a raised eyebrow but didn’t pester the topic.

——

At lunch you had lost sight of Bakugo and didn’t think much of it, you were quickly wrangled by the girls of class 1-A as you paid for your meal, they pulled you to a table where you sat with Asui, Ochaco, Shoto, Izuku and Iida. You were quiet listening in on their conversations, providing a comment when needed as you quickly ate your food. You temporarily sated your stomach, knowing you should eat more before your quirk absorbed the contents of your stomach. You got up to put your tray away, running into Bakugo on the way back. “Hey, Spice. I lost you for a minute.” You snickered at him, he just grunted and rolled his eyes. Dragging you back to the lines to get lunch, or in this case a second helping. He didn’t say anything as you waited in line with him, he paid for your meal and made sure you received it before walking off. Waving a lazy hand back at you. “Prideful brat.” You snickered to yourself before rejoining your table.

“What’s all that?” Asui asked.

“Bakugo bought me lunch,” The table gaped at your comment. “As an apology for blowing up my arm.” You said pointedly, “Plus my quirk already started to absorb what I got earlier since I had to regrow a limb.” You half sighed half laughed at the comment. “I’m sorry I didn’t warn you guys.” You rubbed your neck, this was a tell for you.

Shoto shrugged, you knew Izuku nerded out on what happened, “We’ve seen scary quirks, yours wasn’t as scary as the situation, kero.” Asui said, Ochaco nodded fervently in agreement.

You sighed in relief and started eating gleefully. This hit the spot, you were grateful to Bakugo even though it was your idea.

——

At the end of the day you followed your class back to the dorms, making quick work to get into your comfy clothes. You wore a short (but not quite cropped) shitty band shirt and a pair of high waisted pajama shorts that were just long enough to keep yourself covered if you stretched. You sat at the bar with a book as you idly watched Momo file through the kitchen. She offered tea which you happily accepted, discussing each of your preferences. You were a big fan of spiced drinks, chai’s more often than not.

Iida made his way to you not too long after with a schedule in hand, it showed everyone’s chores and what days they do them and with whom. He had added you to the schedule, noting that you had been paired with Bakugo on a large handful of occasions. Iida mentioned that you were one of the few who made it clear that you could clearly handle him he decided to rearrange the schedule as such to relieve some stress from your other classmates. You laughed and agreed that it would probably be for the best.

The evening droned on a bit before dinner, you offered to help Izuku and Ochaco in the kitchen since you gave everyone quite the scare earlier. They both happily agreed, you helped out and decided to make a side dish your mom always made at home when you had a bad day. It was simple and it always seemed to cleanse the palate. When you let it simmer you made quick work of pulling out plates to serve at the table, helping Ochaco and Izuku when something started going awry.

When dinner was served and everyone was seated you weren’t sure where to sit until Kirishima dragged you to sit with him, Mina, Denki, Bakugo and Sero. You laughed, figuring you sat with the others at lunch. “Fine, fine, I’ll sit just stop dragging me.” You sat in the middle of the table between Bakugo and Kirishima, who asked loads of questions about your fighting style. “Oh, it’s just Tai Chi.”

“You mean that thing old people do at the crack of dawn?” Denki asked, that’s definitely not what he expected.

You snorted and rolled your eyes, “Yeah, Tai Chi is a form of defensive martial arts that can also be used for meditation.” You ate a bit before continuing. “When used offensively the base principal of it is redirection, our bodies are covered in pressure points that-“ You took a sip of water. “If hit hard enough can fuck up your opponents whole fighting position and quickly turn the tables.”

“You still never explained what you did to my arms.” Bakugo hissed, almost pouting as he ate.

You scoffed, “Yes I did! I told you on the way back to the dorm after you blew up my arm!” You laughed, “I can explain it again if it didn’t make sense, Spice.”

The other boys and Mina snorted at the new nickname, “Please explain,” Sero managed to laugh out.

“Okay. So, the fighting style for that is called Dim Mak, which means ‘Touch of Death’. Essentially I hit all the right pressure points directly to disrupt his blow flow, disabling his arms and quelling his quirk. Well, until the end.” You rubbed your neck bashfully at your mistake. “With Tai Chi you only hit pressure points to redirect, not do damage to the nervous system.”

The other four just laughed, Bakugo just grunted and rolled his eyes as he ate. When they moved to the side dish you made Denki and Sero almost inhaled it. “This is so good, what is it?” Denki asked, knowing you helped in the kitchen.

“Oh, I made that. It’s [Food Name], just comfort food my mom always made for me when I had a bad day. I gave everybody a good scare today so I figured it’s be nice to have.” You shrugged to him nonchalantly, not noticing Bakugo had also made quick work of the dish.

“I’m gonna need seconds of this.” He snorted getting up.

You didn’t say much else while you ate, eating was a reprieve for you. When you finished your dishes you let out a happy sigh. Finally satiated for the day, you leaned over to Bakugo as he finished eating. “You never gave me a chance to thank you for lunch.” You gave him a smile before getting up to clear the table of empty dishes to return to the kitchen.

“Shut up.” He snapped, following your actions as you walked into the kitchen. You hummed at his response, figuring he was too prideful.

“Well, thank you none the less, I would’ve been starved if it weren��t for you.” You snicker, Bakugo just crossed his arms and looked at the time. You heard Mina call for you and ask if you wanted to watch a movie before bed, “Of course!” You call back, “You gonna join us Spice?” Looking back at him with a tired smile.

“No.” He retorted quickly before leaving the kitchen heading towards his dorm, hearing a faint ‘good night’ from you.

You join your new pink friend who loops her arm in yours pulling you to the living room where you sat almost snuggled between her, a pillow and Ochaco. You were cozy enough to fall asleep but every movement either of the girls made roused you. You remembered seeing this movie once, letting you answer a few questions anyone had without spoilers. “Damn,” You mumbled to yourself with a yawn, realizing how tired you actually were. You shook Mina, whispering that you were heading to bed before sliding over the back of the couch. You waved a lazy good night to the others who noticed and headed to your room.

——

The next morning you woke to the sun rising and danced across your eye lids, getting a good pop filled stretch before crawling out of the warm comfort of your blankets. Your morning routine was simple, brush your teeth, sort out your hair, wash your face, down a glass of water, make tea, listen to music and practice your morning yoga and tai chi filled exercises. You decided to wear your gym shorts for stretching; not with a creep like Mineta in the house, you thought storing your pajamas. You walk to the patio out front, enjoying the brisk morning air before setting down your tea on the banister. You had your Bluetooth headphones in and placed your phone on the windowsill. You made basic stretches to loosen up before grabbing your ankles as you bent into a full uttanasana, you stretch up pulling your leg to a natarajasana but pulling your foot closer to the back of your head before switching legs. Continuing this for sometime before starting your Tai Chi, ‘fickle habits lead to fickle lives’ your mother mantra played in your mind frustratingly.

Bakugo has always been the ‘first to bed - first to rise’ type of person. In the dorms this gave him more liberties in the morning, as he had a tendency to walk out of his room to the showers in boxers and maybe a t-shirt most mornings. The last thing he was expecting was to see the electric kettle steaming after it’s obvious use. His eyes darted around, listening keenly to the main lobby of the dorm. He didn’t hear anything inside but spotted a phone outside of the building on the windowsill. Bakugo’s sight narrowed in before realizing he was walking towards it to see who the fuck is outside at this hour, or if someone left it outside on accident. He stepped slowly seeing you stretching on the patio, he couldn’t hear anything but he noticed the device was lit up playing music. Holy shit she’s listening to aggressive rap, he thought spotting the song title. The playlist was labeled ‘✨ GOOD MORNING ✨’ he snorted at the idea of that being morning music, the song changed to some classic punk rock song he recognized. He decided to leave you be, he would never admit it but he absolutely took in the sight of you before shuffling to the bathroom to start his own morning routine.

When you finished your morning routine you made haste to grab your uniform and run to the shower. When you got out you saw Bakugo in the kitchen preparing what you assumed was his breakfast. “Good morning, Spice.” You said sweetly.

You just hear a grunt from him when you sat down to dry your hair properly, “Morning.” You hear him quietly mutter, as he brought out a plate with his breakfast. “Dry your hair properly.” He hissed, you snorted and continued working the dampness from your hair.

Once you were satisfied you finished buttoning your uniform top and tying the tie, you left for a moment to return your towel to its home and pull your hair into a bun. Clipping back your mostly dry bangs as you returned to the lobby, “Whatever you made smells great,” You made your way to the kitchen for a second cup of tea. “Want tea?” You asked in passing. He grumbled something but didn’t say no so you made him a glass anyway, letting them steep as you made your way to your room to grab your book bag. When you got back and the tea had settled you placed a glass in front of the seemingly agitated blonde. Making breakfast for yourself and joined him at the table. You ate and flitted through yesterday’s notes.

Bakugo watched you out of the corner of his eye, you were so casual as if you’d been here the whole time. Something about you frustrated him endlessly, he figured he’d be able to narrow it down later. He begrudgingly accepted the tea, it was spicier than he expected. He wondered if this was a jab at him with the shitty nickname you’d bestowed him with.

—

A couple weeks passed quickly as you adjusted to your life at UA, you spent your early mornings with Bakugo before the other lazily made their way to the lobby, class began, then gym, then lunch, more classes, back to the dorms for a mix of homework and playtime with dinner somewhere in the mix.

One weekend you decided to sleep in, which was a mistake as Mina had invited herself into your room and tackled your sleeping form. Eliciting a great squeal from you and you both ended up on floor with a loud *THUD*. “You know. I’m gonna skip the ‘what is wrong with you’ and go straight for the why, Mina.” You groaned, groveling on the floor at her excited stupor.

“We’re going to the mall! Get up! Get dressed!” She was bouncing at you as you slumped upon the floor, calves still on your bed. “Come ooonnn (Y/N/N)!!”

You snorted at her, “Fine, give me 20 minutes.” With that she was gone as fast as she came, you stood and pulled out your casual clothes you now rarely got to wear. Throwing on a pair of high waisted skinny jeans, a fitted white crop top, a thin burnt amber cardigan that went down to your calves, topped with honey brown softly pointed ankle boots. You left your hair loose aside from pulling your bangs upright to clip them back, providing a small bumped look you could live with. You grabbed your small purse that slings across your shoulders only holding your phone and wallet and a pair of round darkly tinted sun glasses before meeting up with the Bakugang. Mina gaped at your outfit excitedly, all four boys on the other hand just stared. “Too much? It’s just casual wear.” You shrugged and offered a soft but awkward smile.

“Shut up, you look great!” Mina snorted, she wore a loose crop top that hung just above the belt line of her skinny jeans, “You have plenty of time to check (Y/N/N) today idiots, let’s go!” She looped her arm with yours and almost dragging you along.

You never cared to much for shopping, you had what you needed and what you liked but you enjoyed spending time with the Bakugang outside of UA. Mina asked you about what your makeup preferences were and you admitted that you knew little regarding the topic. The boys whined to eat, “I’m always game for food.” You snorted, you were being dragged around more than anything anyway.

You all sat around a table in the mall talking about nonsense, eating your respective lunches. They quickly got used to just how much you ate, much to your relief. When lunch was over the six of you ended up in an arcade, you and Denki played a shooting game with the big plastic colorful guns. Denki grabbed the red plastic cabled hand gun leaving you with the bright orange cabled shot gun. You snorted when he thought he had the better gun. “HOW ARE YOU SO GOOD AT THIS?” He whined as he watched you take shot after shot.

“The keener the eye the better the hero, also my dad was big into hunting back in (H/L).” You chuckled, “Both of my parents are Quirkless so they reveled in what they could.” You quickly beat the game, re-holstering the plastic gun you collect your almost endless stream of tickets. “You can imagine I was a huge surprise for them.” Sero snorted and agreed at your last comment.

You made an abysmal attempt to fold up your tickets when Kirishima pulled you into some game him and Bakugo were playing. You were sure the blonde would get you guys kicked out as he seemed to be intent on destroying the game itself. You laughed loudly at him yelling “DIE!!” And “I’LL KILL YOU!!” At the console. Mina pulled you to play skee-ball next to them, you made for a mediocre game as you couldn’t stop laughing at Bakugo’s video game rage.

You managed though, collecting more tickets and playing another round as Mina, Sero, Denki and you made a bet. The person with the lowest score would have to calm the blonde down. “Game on!” Denki puffed, you smirked cheekily as the challenge began.

After about 5 minutes the four of you were neck in neck with high scores but you fell short of third place. You groaned, collecting your tickets. Mina and Denki wiggled their eyebrows at you and Sero just laughed at your dismay, “Fine!” You laughed, walking over the the blonde on the verge of explosion. “Hey, Spice?” You placed your gloved hand on his shoulder. He snapped at you, scowling at your disruption. “Help me pick out a prize with my tickets?” You didn’t wear your usual smile, your brows knitted, concerned about the potential problem if he blew up the game.

Bakugo could almost breathe fire at you in his rage, but the concerned look you gave him threw him off. He just tossed up his hands and almost growled before crossing his arms letting you usher him to the prize table with a relieved smile. Sero, Mina, Denki and Kirishima were floored; their jaws slack at the ease at which you had simmered him and removed him from the game he almost blew up. They all looked at each other with devious grins as they huddled together.

At the prize table you had to put all your tickets into some machine that counted them out, “Thanks for agreeing to help me.” You smiled up at him as he unraveled the mess of tickets you had. He just grunted and huffed in response, he wasn’t a big talker outside of when he screamed about being the best or when he got mad. When he did talk you could tell he put thought into his words, even when he wasn’t talking to you. When all the tickets were counted out you were directed to the charm section of the prize table. “What do you think?” You pestered him.

He squatted down, eyeing most of the girly charms. He didn’t know what girls liked, he watched you look over the more boyish themed charms. “I don’t know,” He hissed, “What’s the point of this anyway.”

“Making memories.” You smiled into the glass, spotting a charm that caught your eye. “Oh! Can I look at that one?” You asked the staff behind the counter, the pulled out a little bob-omb phone charm. You snickered at it, “How do we feel about this one?” You handed it to him, he just stared at it with knitted brows before scowling at you. “What??”

“It’s a bomb.” He said.

“So are you.” You snorted and rolled your eyes. “I think it’s cute.”

With a over dramatic “TCH.” He handed it back, “Well I guess that’s the one then.” He rolled his own eyes, “Why did you ask for my help if you didn’t need it?”

You handed you ticket stub to the staff and looped the charm onto your phone, “I didn’t know I wouldn’t need your help.” You pushed him back towards the group, “Come on, I think everyone is burnt out on games.”

Before leaving the arcade everyone found a one of those kawaii photo booths. Mina somehow managed to usher everyone in, her and the other three boys pushed you and Bakugo together, you took the standard photos, Kirishima managed to swindle the ‘Glamouroki’ face out of Bakugo for the final ‘funny face’ photo. You, Mina and Denki burst into tears of laughter at the scene, Sero wheezed into the side of the booth. The face was now encapsulated for all of time in the photo booth six sticker sheets. You slipped the photo behind your clear phone case, making sure not to stick it down. “God. We have to keep this forever.” Mina cried out.

“That was solid gold.” You wheezed out wiping your face, Bakugo shouted and hit Kirishimas hardened head when he figured out it was photographed. “Holy shit, that couldn’t have been more perfect.” You panted taking a deep breath.

“Let grab a few drinks before heading home.” Kirishima cried out from his own laughter, you all agreed. Heading to a vending machine on your way out.

——

The next day after finishing weekend homework the bakugang decided to have a movie night. You noticed that Mina and the boys had been pushing you and Bakugo together, not that you minded but you couldn’t pin point why so you shrugged off the thought. It had been decided that the four of them would prepare snack and drinks if you and Bakugo would pick a movie. “Soo- they’re clearly plotting something,” You joked at the blonde as you both dig through his movie collection. “Should we pick a movie they can’t handle as revenge?” This elicited a laugh out of him.

“I didn’t think ‘little miss sunshine and rainbows’ would come up with such a devious idea.” He snorted at you.

“Sunshine and Rainbows only appear after a dark storm.” You smirked while pointing at him.

He laughed, you almost dropped the DVD you were looking at when you heard it. “Oh, this is gonna be great.” The two of you picked the most gruesome and twisted movie you could find in his collection. Putting it in his DVD player before the others returned. You and Bakugo were chuckling at each other, unwittingly it seemed to excite the other four. You and Bakugo sat on his bed as the rest sat choice-fully on the floor. Denki turned off the lights as Mina sorted out snacks so everyone could reach them and passed around drinks.

They movie started fine, easily pulling them in, you stifled laughter. Bakugo was much better at doing that, though he had a smirk plastered onto his face. You adjusted yourself to pulling your knees up to your chest comfortably, to an outside perspective your were preparing for the movie to get more twisted, from Bakugo’s perspective he just noted a smile that curled at your lips behind your hands that rested on your knees. He started to get irritated with how much attention he paid to you. The simple ways you shifted as the movie dragged on, the excitement that built up causing you to bite your bottom lip. He had the urge to smack you and telling you to stop biting your lip. He shook his head at the thought. Nope, nu-uh. These are not thoughts he was ready to have. He forced his attention from you and focused on the movie with knitted brows.

You adjusted again, crossing your legs and grasping your ankles in anticipation. Part of you was totally enthralled in the movie, you love this stuff, the other part was excited for the wicked prank you and Bakugo had setup for your poor unwitting friends. The first scene that got to them came, enticing a loud set of screeches from the four on the floor and you had gasped at the scene jumping a little and then a chuckle at their responses. You looked back at Bakugo who was already looking at you and beamed, “Success.” You whispered at him, he smirked back and nodded before your attention was back on the screen.

By the time the movie was over you firmly believe you traumatized the four, “WHY WOULD YOU PUT SOMETHING LIKE THAT ON.” Mina whisper yelled.

You and Bakugo glanced at each other from where you sat on the bed and laughed softly, “I thought it was a good movie.” You retorted.

“You guys are a bunch of babies, if you want to watch something soft you pick the movie.” Bakugo snorted waving a hand at the movie collection, it was movie night after all.

Denki looked a little brain fried as Mina and Kirishima darted to the movie collection to pick something to quell their pained minds. You laughed again, sliding off the bed as you looked at the time. “It’s getting late, we can afford one more movie but I’m gonna go change.”

You made your way out of Bakugo’s room to yours, you tossed your hair up in a messy bun and threw on a baggy shirt, a pair of shorts and a warm cardigan. Quickly making your way back to his room when you hear bickering. “Don’t you dare, that’s (Y/N/N)’s!” You hear Mina say.

You poke your head in to see her wrangling your phone from Bakugo’s grip, trying to get the photo you slid into your case out. “Oh-ho.” You piped out, “I see, I can’t trust you with my belongings.” You snorted, knowing how he felt about the hilarious photo. You slid in quickly snatching your phone from them both before finding your barely warm spot still on the bed.

Mina huffed in success and Bakugo just crossed his arms, “It’s just a stupid photo.” He grumbled.

“It’s my stupid photo, Spice.” You said, “And if you try to take it again I’ll print large poster versions of it and plaster it to every wall in the school.” You chided at him with an almost evil smirk.

He groaned and Mina turned the lights back off as the next movie played. You felt Bakugo’s knee tap yours, as if it was some silent confirmation of your words. Your smile softened a bit and you glanced at him from the corner of your eye. His scowl still ever present but softer than his usual. Kirishima yawned, causing everyone else to yawn. You cozied yourself in your sweater against the wall as you watched the movie with half lidded eyes. Your shoulders slouched a bit and you ended up leaning you arm into Bakugo, who just stiffened at the action. This kept you awake through the movie, not that you were paying it any attention to it.

Bakugo on the other hand was now wide awake due to your sudden touch into his arm, this is not how he expected things to go. Though your prank was an absolute success, he wasn’t prepared for the aftermath. He was irritated and confused at your current actions, you should be angry at him not leaning into him! Did he want you to be mad at him? He couldn’t think straight.

As soon as the movie ended he ushered everyone out, even you in your sleepy stupor. You and Mina just looped arms and made your way back to the girls side of the building, triple checking that you had your phone.

You knocked out quickly when you got to your room, you had a great weekend. Bakugo didn’t have such luck, he just assumed you showed anger different ways and made a mental list of what to do about it before he had the luxury of sleep.

——

The next morning you were back to your usual routine, however you found you weren’t the first one up. You watched the blonde cook in the kitchen before starting your routine, you got ready to exercise when you decided to disturb him. “Good morning, Spice. Food smells great, as usual.”

You watch his frame stiffen, but grunt as usual, “Morning, (Y/N).” He groaned, maybe he slept on the wrong side of the bed? You thought, continuing your stare at him.

“I’m gonna work out, come grab me if you need anything, okay?” You offered but he just waved you off stiffly. You got to your work out, followed by a shower and drying your hair properly so you didn’t have to listen to Bakugo whine about it. Making your way back to the kitchen to make tea for the both of you. The blonde just stiffened at your presence in the kitchen so you made quick work of the tea, this morning was different though. Bakugo had made breakfast for you too, uh oh. You thought, something must’ve happened. “Are you alright?” You asked staring in surprise, “Not that I’m not elated to try your cooking but-“ You were cut off by him shaking his head and starting to eat.

You watched him for a minute before started to eat as well, holy shit. Was all you could think, “This is really good.” You said softly, smiling as you quickly ate.

He still didn’t say anything, you wondered what snapped in him. You finished quickly and when he was done he collected your dishes. Finishing his cooking in the kitchen after the rice cooker pinged. You flitted through your papers making sure everything was in order for the day when you hear a *thump* beside you. You looked over and it was a larger than average bento, wrapped neatly. You just cocked an eyebrow at it and looked at Bakugo, “Okay, I’ll bite. What’s wrong?” He’s clearly broken this morning. “Are you sick?” He scowled down at you, differently than you’ve seen before. He just let out a frustrated noise at your confused behavior.

You watch him for a moment before anything happens, he just pushes out the chair beside you and sits crossing his arms scowling differently at you. “The last time you were weirdly quiet and gave me lunch as when you blew up my hand...” You lean your head back thinking before it clicks. “Oh my god, is this about the sticker??”

He just groans in frustration, “Obviously! Your probably furious with me!” He hissed, watching your form relax, no smile in sight just concern. “I don’t fucking know!” He threw his hands out.

You put your hand to your face, a chuckle escaped you and turned to a hearty laugh, “Katsuki.” He flinched, that’s the first time you’ve said his name. “I’m not mad, that sticker is just a fucking sticker. I only wanted to keep it because it’s an original. Those photo booths have an option to email the photos, so I have a digital copy.” You pull out your phone and hand it to him. “If you don’t want me to have it to the point of this much guilt or frustration, take it. I won’t fight you, Spice.”

He stared at you in awe, now he just felt like a fucking idiot. His brain was addled with you over some stupid fucking sticker. What is going on with me?? You seemed to agree that he was losing his shit, not that you even knew it was about you. He pushed your phone back towards you and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Don’t worry about it.” Was all he said before he got up to clean, leaving you with both photo and bento. He doesn’t say anything to you for the rest of the morning as he disappears to finish getting ready for school.

——

A few days passed and Kirishima brought up the provisional licensing exams that passed before you transferred in. “He probably would have passed if you were there (Y/N).” Kirishima says in passing. You had asked him how they did the testing in Japan.

You hummed at the comment before looking at the redhead, “I don’t think I could have made him be nice to people.” You shrugged a bit, he only failed because he’s abrasive. “He doesn’t yell at me because I’ve proven I can kick his ass.” The comment makes you both chuckle but Bakugo just shouts out in the distance, you both only laugh harder.

That morning the class found out about the work study program, you weren’t here for the sports festival so your options were more limited. Ochaco wanted to introduce you to GunHead but he wasn’t taking work study students; Aizawa said Amajiki-Senpai would introduce you and Kirishima to Fatgum. The two of you fist bump at the offer knowing full well that your friend harassed the poor kid into it. No one could foresee the events that followed.

You found yourself in a meeting discussing the take down of a Yukuza crime syndicate and the rescue of a small girl named Eri. The details of the situation she was in made your stomach churn. Over the next few days you found yourself hanging out with Kirishima, Ochaco, Asui and Izuku more. You all were brooding over the up coming event, your normal routine didn’t change much but the event pulled the 5 of you together. On movie night Denki decided to bring it up to you and Kirishima, you both just kind of looked at each other before making up some bullshit answer. “Honestly, the work study program is just a lot more than we expected. We were just brooding about it.” Was all you could manage, you rubbed the back of your neck uncomfortably. You hear Bakugo click his tongue at the blatant lie but you couldn’t defend yourself. It was getting harder to wear your usual smile while waiting for a message for the raid.

—

The day of the raid was devastating, even though the raid itself went by a lot faster than you had expected. You rode in the ambulance with Sir Night Eye, keeping him stable until you arrived at the hospital. You can’t regrow other people’s missing organs but you did everything you could, you just sobbed for most of the time. You were lucky you didn’t receive any damages that would have you stuck in the hospital, you helped heal everyone’s wounds to get them out sooner but it was draining. A few hero’s who claimed to be in your debt brought food to you as you ran around the hospital. Forcing you to sit down and eat, you thanked them telling them they didn’t have to but they waved off the comment.

——

A few days later you were sitting, curled up in the corner and arm of a couch, in the common room in the middle of the night, you didn’t want to be stuffed in your room anymore. You felt like your tears dried out, you just sat staring at your phone screen when you heard foot steps from behind. You payed no mind to it as they walked into the kitchen, you’ve been staring at the same page on your phone trying to focus until the other person spoke, “It’s the middle of the night, go to bed dumbass.” You looked up to see Bakugo, he was right but something made tears bubble in the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill.

Bakugo had just run down to get a bottle of water when he saw you sitting on the couch, you were just on your phone so he couldn’t understand why you weren’t doing that in your room. After he spoke up he turned to face you, he saw tears in your eyes as they slowly ran down your cheeks. He panicked he’d never admit that, he walked over and squat down in front of you. He didn’t say anything but he just stared up at you with his brows knitted. “S-sorry. Ah-I just, I d-don’t-“ You stuttered and rubbed your eyes furiously.

He clicked his tongue, “Shut up.” He hissed, he hears what ever you were going to say hitch in your throat and you try to stifle your tears. “That’s not- ugh.“ He cut himself off, comforting people wasn’t in the list of things he was good at. Bakugo gets up from were he was squatting and walks back into the kitchen. When he gets back he hands you water bottle and sits down next to you. “Drink.”

Your hands were shaking but you managed to open the bottle and take a sip, Bakugo finally got a glance at the mess behind your hands. Your (E/C) eyes were red and puffy, the skin around them was raw, your nose and cheeks were irritated from being rubbed at. His brows knit further watching you struggle to put the lid back on. He just snatched the lid and puts it back on for you, “T-thanks.” You sputtered at him, “Sorry, I’m a mess aren’t I?” You force our a small chuckle, he only clicks his tongue.

“Stop apologizing when you’ve done nothing wrong!” He whisper yells at you, you nod at him from behind your hands as they made their way back to your face. “Stop that!” He grabbed your wrists causing you to look at him, when he hoped you’d stop abusing your pretty face he let go of your wrists and grabbed your ankles. You almost yelped at the action as he just lifted them up and aggressively scooted closer, dropping your legs over his lap. “What the fuck is so wrong that’s got Little Miss Sunshine in tears?” He hissed at you.

You almost gaped at him, who is this and what have they done with Bakugo?? As soon as you snapped back to reality you wrapped your arms around your thighs, tears still dripping out of your eyes. “I just, I feel like a failure.” You go on to explain the raid, how messed up Kirishima and Tamaki-senpai got and the loss of Sir Night Eye. “I should’ve been able to do more!” You whisper yelled through tears, “My quirk is molecular regeneration for fucks sake!” You dropped your head into your knees, sobbing quietly.

Bakugo had crossed his arms and listened as you explained everything. Kirishima was his best friend sure but even he knows there’s a limit to every quirk. “(Y/N).” You lifted your head to look at him. “You’re not a fucking miracle worker.” He adjusted in his seat, propping an arm up on the back of the couch and leaning his head into his fist, you felt him adjust which made you focus for the first time on his close proximity. You went to say something back but nothing came out, you dropped your chin onto your knees and let the tears stream thinking about what he said. You knew he was right, you used your quirk a ton before Kirishima and Sir Night Eye were even brought out, even the medic staff thanked you greatly for keeping Sir Night Eye stable the whole way to the hospital. “This is a part of working as a Hero.” He grumbled.

You stayed quiet for some time before responding, “I know.” You tilted to the side and leaned into the blonde, your tears slowing. Your head and knees leaned into his chest lightly, you could feel him stiffen at the action. You went to sit up properly when you felt him pull you back roughly, you let out a small ‘oof’ at the action. The whole situation bubbles up in your stomach, causing you to giggle through what’s left of your tears. “If you keep being nice to me I might have to call you Sweets instead of Spice.” You snorted out softly.

You could feel him stifle a chuckle before clicking his tongue, “Shut up!” He growled, “Don’t even think about telling anyone I was soft with you once!”

You chuckle a bit and lift your head to look at him, wiping your face with your shirt. “You really think I’d share such a sappy moment about you? Nuh-uh, this is my memory.” You chuckle a bit and lean back into him, missing the blush that decorated his scowling face. The two of you stayed like that for awhile before he convinced you that you were tired and should go to bed, you groaned and yawned before you begrudgingly agreed.

The next day Bakugo invited told you to go with him to see Kirishima, you agreed a bit reluctantly. He basically dragged you by the wrist the entire way there, you blushed over the action but didn’t argue. When you arrived Bakugo watched you in a bit of confusion as you were basically on a first name basis with the nurses, and older nurse had pulled you into a big hug that elicited a loud whine from you. They laughed and sent the two of you up to the room where Kirishima was. When you opened up the door you found the redhead was wide awake, he offered a bright smile that just made you cry again. Visible panic set in his face and Bakugo dragged you in by the hand to sit next to him, he explained the situation to his friend and the two let you sob. “I heard about everything you did.” Kirishima said, “I get where you’re coming from but you did a lot (Y/N/N). Like a lot-a lot.” He told Bakugo about what he heard from the nurses and Fatgum about your frenzy around the hospital with all the hero’s and officers who were at the raid.

“I’m sorry for getting upset.” You mumbled, “I just feel stupid. I know what I signed up for when I decided to go into the field of Heroism, but this was just a kick to the gut.” You rubbed your temples a bit, “Honestly, having my arm blown up was better than being this unprepared.” You sputtered, this earned a chuckle from the two.

“Dumbass, I told you you’re not a miracle worker!” Bakugo spat and dropping his palm on the top of your head, ruffling your hair aggressively. “Now stop being upset!” He hissed, you and Kirishima laughed at his aggressive ‘kindness’. The three of you talked for awhile, you offered to heal your friend more but he declined saying he’d be out soon anyway. You pouted but understood.

When you left Bakugo was still dragging you by your hand, “Thanks.” You said softly, smiling a bit. “That made me feel better.” You squeezed his hand lightly when he grunted at you. Such a weirdo, you wondered what’s gotten into him lately.

“Shut up.” He shouted, “It’s fucking weird seeing you upset.”

“Is that your version of saying you like seeing me happy?” You sniggered, this only elicited his grip on your hand to tighten. Your chuckles were cut short and you blushed loudly at the situation, he likes seeing me happy? You internally questioned.

After the trip to the hospital you became way too aware of Bakugo’s presence, anytime you bumped into him or happened to be too close your ears burned with blush. You were finally feeling more like yourself and now you felt like a wrench was thrown into your mind. As far as you could tell Mina was (of course) the first to notice. She pulled you into Jiro’s room, causing you to yelp. “Spill it (Y/N/N)!” She put her hands on her hips while wearing a smug grin. Jiro and Ochaco just stared at you two confused.

“What.” You chocked out.

She wiggles her eyebrows, “You’re all blushy with Bakugo! That’s what!” You almost tackled her at the statement.

“DON’T SAY THAT.” You shouted, the other girls were quick to pick up the situation. Mina grabbed your wrists and the other girls started to poke at you, you squealed loudly from being tickled.

All the yelling caused concern in the other dorm-mates who knocked on the door. Momo opened it up revealing herself, Toru and Iida. “(L/N) has a crush on someone! We’re trying to get her to confess the details!” Jiro tittered.

“DON’T LISTEN TO HER. SOMEONE HELP ME.” You cried out from being tickled, Momo ushered Iida to leave and the girls entered the room to poke at you. “NO!” You shouted while laughing.

“Just tell us what happened!” Ochaco teased you finally agreed and huffed for air.

You collapsed on Jiro’s bed, “I was really upset the other night Bakugo basically said he likes seeing me happy and now I’m like- hyperaware of his presence and the things he’s done. I feel like I’m losing my mind!” You whined softly.

“What’s he done?” Momo asked, you sat up and explained what he did after the sticker incident. You absolutely showed them the sticker and told them that he’s the one who’s been making you lunches. Mina explained how you easily calmed him from almost destroying the arcade game, the other girls just gave you the knowing look.

“Girl.” Mina facepalms, trying her hardest not to laugh. “How are you both are so fucking dense?”

You throw your hands up defensively, “I don’t know!” You yell out when there’s another knock at the door.

Jiro gets up to open it, and speak of the devil. “Boy Wonders here.” This elicits an unintelligible shout from you.

“Wha- AGH. Can you stop making her yell.” Bakugo glowered at your friend.

“I don’t think that’s on me, it’s just.… Girl talk.” She retorts with a snicker. He hears you groan in the background and sees a pillow thrown, your face is undeniably blushing.

He puts his hand on the door and leans in over the girl. “(Y/N), stop yelling.” He says sternly, your face drops into the bed as you wave him off. The girls are laughing at the interaction but he just scowls at them and walks off.

“Can someone just bury me already, I’m dying.” You hissed from the bed.

“So, he obviously likes you.” Jiro says walking back.

“Ohmygod. No he doesn’t!” You blurted.

“If he didn’t like you he would’ve told us all to ‘shut the fuck up’ or ‘keep it down’. He made that about you.” Mina jeered at you.

“Bakugo only feels anger!” You laughed, you knew that was a lie but he’d kill you if you said otherwise.

“Maybe he just feels less angry with you?” Ochaco snorted.

“I’ve never seen him be that considerate to anyone, let alone be as nice as you’ve mentioned.” Momo said.

“You’re in denial because you just noticed your feelings for him.” Toru snickered.

Mina laughed and grinned deviously, “If you’re so sure why don’t you ask him?”

“Wh-what? N-NO! I can’t do that!” You stammered, sitting up quickly. “If he liked me he would’ve said something by now! Can any of you imagine him just letting something he wants get away from him?” The girls looked between each other, you were right.

“OH.” Toru piped. “What if we convince him your interested in someone else? If he likes you he’ll do something about it right?” You could hear the implications in her voice.

You frowned deeply, teetering your head back. “That’s... Fair? I guess, but what if he like, tries to interrogate you guys?” You question, the girls smile and usher you out to make a plan.

Over the next several days the girls in passing talk about you and your crush, making sure it comes up in conversation near you and Bakugo. You always blush whenever they do, making sure you get a good jab or pinch in every time.

Bakugo is getting increasingly frustrated, you guys hang out all the time. What was this stupid crush about? Why was he angry about it? Why did he want to confront you over it? This frustration has him blowing up over everything. He’s managed to break pens, pencils, cups, plates, a book, and a few other miscellaneous objects. Denki and Sero try to get you to calm him down but you said he hasn’t talked to you or made the problem apparent so there’s nothing you can do.

“I think this is about your crush.” Denki mentions, which for you was the final straw you snapped, you were so tired of this crush nonsense.

“Denki.” You smile at him your gaze was dark in frustration, he looks over at you. “If I have to hear anything else about that topic I will flip your skin inside out, rub salt on it and throw vinegar at you.” You smile widens evilly. “Got it?” He just nodded furiously and runs off.

You drop your head on the counter where you sat at the kitchen bar, groaning loudly. You feel an aggressive tapping on your shoulder seconds later. You snap in their direction with a scowl, it’s Bakugo. Your expression softens when you’re met by an equal glare, “Come with me. Now.” He commanded, you follow him reluctantly. You weren’t paying much mind but you slowly realized you were heading to the boys dorms, more specifically his room.

You’ve been in there dozens of times, why are you so nervous now? You let out a sigh, trying to calm yourself as you made your way into the room. You sat on the edge of his bed, like you had many times before. “What can I do for you, Spice?” You ask, smiling at his glare.

He started pacing back and forth, he isn’t quite sure why he brought you here. He’s just mad and it has something to do with you. “What is this whole crush nonsense about?”

You froze a bit, “I have a crush on someone and the girls weaseled information out of me.” You rubbed the back of your neck, the statement was pointed, it wasn’t a complete lie.

He just stared at you in disbelief, all your actions proved you were telling the truth. “Who?” He hissed, less asking and more demanding. You looked down at your feet, you didn’t say anything. “Is it Kirishima?” He snapped, I mean it would make sense with how broken up you were with his injuries. You stared at him, squinting your eyes a bit. Giving him the ‘are you serious?’ expression. “Tell me it’s not Denki? Dudes a fucking idiot.”

You laughed out at this comment, “No, dumbass. I’m not that desperate.” You roll your eyes, you watch the gears turn in his head furiously. It’s not clicking. “For fucks sake, Spice. You really can’t figure it out?”

He scowls at you, you just groan and jump from your seat. You walk up, get in his face and grab him by his shirt collar. You pull his face into your for a kiss. It takes a few seconds for him to grab you by your waist and pull you up, kissing deeper. He bit at you lip as if asking to enter your mouth, you comply easily while you wrap you arms around his neck. Your fingers find his hair when you both pull away for air. “You could’ve just said something, dumbass.”

“Oh, I am not the only dumbass here, Sweets.” You snickered at him. A frustrated blush tints his cheeks at the new nickname.

“Don’t call me that.” He snaps pulling you in aggressively for another kiss.

You tug at his hair a bit at the kiss, “Only when we’re alone.” You retort between kisses. “God, I don’t know if I should kill the girls or thank them.” You pant out, he sends you a questioning look. You chuckle a bit, “The whole crush nonsense was their tactic to force us to admit we had feelings for each other.” Bakugo’s face burned with frustration but he found that he was far less frustrated after the aggressive make out session. Your phone pinged with a text from Mina.

Mina:

Are you making out or killing each other? Hurry up it’s movie night!

Received 5:59PM

(Y/N):

Yes

Sent 6:00PM (seen)

(Y/N):

You hurry up we’re already here

Sent 6:00PM (seen)

You removed yourself from his grasp and grabbed his hand. “Come on, let’s pick a movie and pretend fight so they’ll shut up.” He just rolled his eyes and smirked. Not too long after the rest of the Bakusquad (minus Kirishima) made their way to his room, followed by a few of the other curious girls. “You’re so fucking weird why would buy that??”

“It’s a classic! Dumbass, why don’t you have good taste in movies?” He hissed.

“Ooh, excuse me for having my own opinion!” You snapped, it was so hard not to laugh.

“What have we done..” Mina groans.

You both look at the door, “Shut up!” You both hissed in unison, snapping back to face each other.

“Don’t copy me!” You yelled.

“You’re one to talk!” He snorted.

Mina ushered the girls off while her and Sero broke up the fight, little do they know it’s totally fake. Mina picks a LOTR movie at random. “Just sit down and let’s enjoy a movie!” She snapped. You both fake hissed at each other as you sat in your normal spots on his bed, a bit closer than normal.

While the others got caught up in the movie you silently laughed to get it out of your system, Bakugo snorted quietly at the whole situation.

At some point during the movie when you adjusted your sitting to stretch your legs Bakugo decided to lay across your lap. Not like a normal person would with their head in you lap, but on his side. The side of his abdomen pressed down your thighs as he propped him head up on his hand. Elbow pressed into the mattress, he snicker as you readjusted. You didn’t mind as much as he thought you did, you were focused on the movie. You had absentmindedly started to comb your fingers through his hair, causing him to get tired. The movie was about 4 hours long, which ran into the time you and the blonde typically went to sleep. Bakugo had already fallen asleep across your lap, you had crossed your arms and started dozing off.

When the movie was over, Mina, Denki and Sero got up to go get ready for bed. When they turned on the light they all stared at the sight before them, you were sat dozed off peacefully against the wall. Your arms crossed head still slightly upright, one leg out and one leg bent with the foot on the opposing knee. While Bakugo was laying on his chest in your lap with one arm under and wrapped around your bent leg with his face buried into your thigh like it was a pillow. Mina was quick to silence her phone and snap a dozen photos, “Should we wake them?” Sero whispers.

Denki shook his head, “You really want to wake the two scariest people we know?” The other two agree and quickly escape the room and turn the light back off.

——

Bakugo woke up in the middle of the night, he was warm and cold in all the wrong places. He rubbed his face into what he quickly realized wasn’t a pillow and shot upright. There you were, totally asleep. Same position as the Bakusquad had left you in, with the softest snores escaping you. He just stared at you in shock before he reaches over for his phone. It’s 2 am, he debates whether to wake you or not. He decided to just scoop you up and lay you down on his bed, there’s no getting out of this one. He gets up to change into his sleepwear and climb back into bed, you were already in comfortable clothing (shorts and a baggy t-shirt). He pulls the covers over you and lays facing the wall with his back to you under the covers.

The sun flickered against your eyelids and woke you as usual in the morning, but something was different this morning. You felt a warm and heavy weight holding you down, when you opened you eyes you realized what’s wrong. You were still in Bakugo’s room, you felt him adjust in his sleep which forced you to assess the situation. He was big spooning you, in his bed, one arm under your neck and the other arm wrapped around your waist, hand under your shirt tucked beside your bare ribs, lightly snoring into your neck where his face was nuzzled. Holy shit, was all your brain could process.

You decided to sneakily grab your phone, double check it was on silent mode and snap a few pictures. You now have dirt on him forever. You attempt to pry yourself from his sleeping grip but the second you manage to sit up right his sleeping form curls around your waist. As cute as this is you wanted to go change and get ready for the day, “Hey, Sweets?” You whine at him, he adjusts in his spot. “Bakugo.” You press further, he grumbled but nothing further. You think for a moment and lean down a bit, “Katsuki.” You say in the most seductive voice you can manage, this quickly pries his eyes open. It takes him a solid 30 seconds to realize the position he’s in, how the fuck did this happen?? He doesn’t quite move as he feels his face heat up. “Good morning. Please free me so I can get ready, I’ve been trying to get you up for like 5 minutes.” You yawned out to him, stretching a bit. When he finally let go he just lazily dropped his face in his pillow that now smelt like you, groaning softly.

You looked back at his figure, frustrated noises escaping him as his neck turned red. You just laughed softly before making your way to get your day started.

Bakugo came down with a few other, later than usual when Mina finally tackled you in the lounge. “You’ll never believe what I got a picture of last night!” She snickered.

You laughed softly, “Oh I have an idea, considering what I got a picture of this morning.” You both laughed at this, “You’re such an ass, why didn’t you wake me up?”

Mina just shows her pictures triumphantly in response, you ask her to send them to you when you show her the pictures you got this morning. Her jaw looked like it was about to fall off when Bakugo sped over to see. “DELETE THAT.”

“Absolutely not.” You locked your phone and hid it away. “You’re so cute when your asleep, so peaceful.” You gushed, Mina was actively losing her marbles at the interaction. “Get over it Spice, you can delete them if you beat me in a fight.” You winked at him, the whole speech burned a blush into his face as he stomped off shouting. “He’s so cute when he’s embarrassed.” You snickered to Mina as you both stood up.

“SHUT UP!” He bellowed out from the kitchen, causing you to laugh harder.

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ericsonclan · 3 years

Text

Rockabye

Summary: Clementine and Louis are out in the woods when they hear a baby cry.

Word Count: 2856

Read on AO3:

“Been a long time since it was just you and me out here,” Clementine noted, smiling over at her husband as they walked through the woods together.

“That it has,” Louis agreed, flashing her his signature smile. “You could almost call this a date: you and I alone together, the ambient noises of the forest providing the perfect backdrop for a romantic moment or two to be stolen before we head back,”

“I would hardly call checking traps a date… but it is nice,” Clementine reached out, her hand taking Louis’. The pair let their intertwined hands swing back and forth lazily as they strolled deeper into the woods. With Maisy and Lee Kenny still so young there was rarely time where they could afford to both go out for the day. But Willy and Allison had promised to keep an eye on the kids and she and Louis had both jumped at the chance. Clementine loved her kids with all her heart but having some breathing space from the chaos was a gift to be enjoyed, one so rarely received she almost didn’t know what to do with it.

“We should take the scenic route. A little tiptoe through the tulips perhaps?” Louis grinned playfully, causing his wife’s nose to wrinkle in amusement.

“Alright. Five minutes. Then we get back to work,”

“But of course,”

Before Clementine could protest, Louis had swept her off her feet and was striding off the beaten path to a nearby patch of wildflowers. “Louis!” she exclaimed before devolving into giggles. “Put me down!”

“And risk you stepping on one of the flowers? No, my darling Clementine, leave it to me to safely navigate us to our final destination,”

“And where might that be?”

“That, my dear, is a secret,”

Clementine rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless. Leave it to Louis to still come up with little adventures even after all this time. Nearly ten years together and she was just as smitten as the day they’d first crossed paths. After a few steps further, Louis placed his wife down upon a fallen log that lay near the wildflowers. Sitting down beside her, he took her hand once more. Clementine rested her head upon Louis’ shoulder, nuzzling it gently. “This is nice,”

“Best five minutes I’ve had in a long time,”

They were silent for a moment, enjoying the stillness and peace of the forest around them. There hadn’t been as many walkers around this past month, likely because most of them had gone with a large herd that had swept through the area a few weeks back. Clementine had never been more thankful to be surrounded by brick walls than when she saw the size of the herd as it slowly passed by. It had been somewhat difficult to stay behind those walls as the woods cleared out, but the time spent in lockdown had shown all of them how truly self-sufficient the school had become. Still, Clementine hoped they wouldn’t have to face anything like that again for a long time to come.

“Hold still for a sec,” Louis’ hand reached out toward her face, pausing at the corner of her eye before drawing back. On his index finger lay a single eyelash. “Go on, make a wish,”

“What?”

“Make a wish then close your eyes and blow the eyelash off my finger. Trust me, it’s a thing,”

Clementine considered her wish carefully. What did she want that she didn’t have? For years growing up on the road all she would have wished for was a home and now she had that. Not just a home, but a family that she could never have even dared to imagine. Truth be told, she didn’t really wany anything more. She just wanted things to stay the same. With that thought in mind, Clementine closed her eyes and blew away the eyelash.

The sound of a baby’s cry carried through the forest. The sound immediately tore through Clementine’s heart. Her eyes shot up to meet Louis’. They were both thinking the same thing: the children. Sprinting toward the source of the sound, both ran with all their might, their minds frantic at the possibilities of what could have happened.

The cries were coming from the opposite direction of the school. It made no sense but there was no time to try to sort through how this had happened. Clementine almost tripped, causing Louis to pause to help her. “No! Go!” Clementine screamed. Louis looked torn for a moment then ran ahead, Clementine following behind as she struggled to match his pace.

Moments later they broke out into a clearing, the sounds louder than ever. Clementine’s eyes scanned her surroundings, searching for Maisy or Lee Kenny. Neither were there. Zachariah and Savannah were nowhere to be found either. She looked to Louis, but he appeared just as lost as she was. They ran through the clearing, still searching in a panic, but there was no child to be seen. Clementine paused for a second, trying to refocus her senses to hone in on the direction the screams were coming from. There, just across from them! Grabbing Louis’ hand, Clementine ran toward the cries.

They froze as they drew near. There at the base of a large tree were at least a dozen walkers all with heads and arms lifted toward the source of the crying: a basket that dangled from one of the lower tree branches.

“It’s not one of the kids,” Clementine whispered, eyes large in disbelief.

“No,” Louis shook his head. “It’s a baby,”

“Who the fuck leaves a baby in a tree?”

“Someone desperate? Either way,” Louis drew out Chairles, “We have to act now. If they haven’t returned at the sound of its cries, they may not be coming back at all,”

Clementine nodded. Drawing the compound bow, she aimed at the nearest walker. “As soon as I hit one, the rest will see us,”

“I’ll make some noise, draw a few of them off to the side,”

“It’s a risk. If there are more getting drawn in by the baby’s cries…”

“We can do this,” Louis gave his wife a look of determination. “We have to,”

He was right. “I’ll take the first one,” Making sure her aim was true, Clementine let out a centering breath before letting the arrow fly. It shot through the air and struck its target, braining a walker before it even knew what hit it. The corpse dropped to the ground, the sound temporarily drawing the attention of the other walkers away from the baby.

“Hey!” Louis shouted, walking away from his wife to get some of the heat off of her. “Over here, deadheads! Come at me!”

The walkers eagerly gave chase, their withered legs moving as quickly as they could. Drawing another arrow, Clementine shot another one. Her aim was a bit off though. Instead of going through the brain it knocked off the walker’s jaw, already dangling by a thread of sinew. Swearing under her breath, Clementine drew again. But this time there was another walker that was nearer with one more right behind it. With barely any distance between them Clementine shot an arrow directly between its eyes before drawing her knife to face the other.

“You’re doing great, sweetie!” Louis called over before swinging out to bash in a walker’s skull. The one that Clementine had de-jawed was now making its way over to him at the sound of his voice. “Oh, you want some more pain?” Louis quipped. Swinging upwards, he hit its head so hard that the neck snapped. The walker’s head flopped over to the side, still connected to the body but dangling as uselessly as its jaw had been. With the walker posing no more immediate threat, Louis kicked it backwards, sending it tumbling into the next two walkers behind it. Striding forward, Louis brained the collapsed walkers one after another.

The baby’s cries had picked up again, its wails more like screams. The sound was drawing the walkers back and from what Clementine could hear in the forest surrounding them there were more walkers nearby. Stabbing the walker she’d been grappling with through the eye, she dug in deep, twisting the knife to pierce the brain. The walker’s milky eye burst on contact with her blade, dribbling down the hilt of her knife and onto her hand. The walker collapsed as its brain ceased to function and Clementine quickly flicked the eye and brain matter from her knife before sheathing it and redrawing her bow.

Seeing his wife was aiming for the walker nearest the basket on the left, Louis headed right. Drawing back Chairles once more, he slammed it against the side of the nearest walker’s skull from behind before backstepping quickly. He needed to spread out the remaining walkers if he was going to be able to take them out without getting bit. A walker crumpled to the ground by the tree, an arrow embedded in the back of its skull. That was another one down. Four to go. Unless… Louis glanced backwards. A pair of walkers were approaching them from behind. Those needed to be dealt with before they got the jump on them. “Clem! We got some stragglers. You good with me stepping away for a sec?”

Clementine nodded. “Go!” She could see Louis running behind her out of the corner of her eye before she refocused on her next target. A particularly tall walker looked like it actually might have a chance at reaching the baby. Its outstretched hand brushed against the base of the basket, causing it to sway back and forth. “You get the fuck away,” Clementine growled. Her next arrow struck right on target, going through the walker’s brain and embedding itself in the tree. The walker’s corpse slouched lifeless, held upright by the very arrow that had killed it. Three more to go. Behind her, Clementine could hear Louis struggling. “Need help?”

“Nah, save your arrows! These two are just being extra cranky! Isn’t that right, fellas?” Louis looked up at the pair he was facing. He’d gotten a few hits in, but one had missed and knocked an arm off instead while the others hadn’t been enough to take down the nearer walker. “You, sir, have a remarkably thick skull. I wonder if that made it hard for your teachers when you were in school. It’s certainly an inconvenience for me,” Drawing close, Louis decided to take an alternate approach. Jamming Chairles into the walker’s mouth, he used the leverage to push the creature backwards. Kicking out the other’s knee to buy himself time, Louis walked forward, forcing the walker to stumble backwards till its back hit a tree. Perfect.

Chairles was lodged firmly in the walker’s mouth, so when Louis drew his weapon back the walker came with it. “Nice try, buddy, but no cigar for you,” Thrusting forward, Louis bashed the walker’s head against the tree before forcing it forward once more to prepare for another hit. The tree grew red with the walker’s blood before finally Chairles burst through the back of its skull, killing it instantly. Louis grinned proudly at his work before realizing his mistake. This walker was dead, but Chairles was now wedged inside its skull and there was another walker mere steps away. “Clem! A little help?”

Clementine spun round to see a walker about to grab her husband. “Louis!” The walker was inches away from her husband who was desperately trying to rip his weapon out of the dead walker’s skull. There was no time to think. Drawing her bow, Clementine immediately shot it, praying her aim was true. Before she could know, a grisly hand pulled her backwards. She’d let one sneak up on her. With a frantic cry, Clementine thrust her knife behind her, hearing a loud crunch as knife scraped bone then embedded in flesh. There was the warm feeling of blood spilling upon her shoulder before the dead walker collapsed, taking Clementine down with it and pinning her beneath its weight. Clementine groaned, her breaths labored as she struggled to get out before another walker reached her.

“Clem!” Louis was at her side in seconds. Her aim had been true after all. Grabbing his wife’s hand, Louis tried to pull her out from beneath the walker. But there were more pressing problems. A walker was approaching his pinned wife and looked intent on biting her exposed ankle. “Think again, fucker!” Louis yelled, leaping forward and swinging with all his might. The blow tore off the top of the walker’s skull. Its hair fluttered back and forth on the piece of bone dangling off the side of its head. That opening was all he needed. Sending Chairles crashing down from above, Louis obliterated the offensive creature. He then spun round to check on his wife. “Clem, are you-”

“I’m alright! Just help me get the rest of the way out!” Clementine grunted with effort, struggling to free her trapped prosthetic from under the corpse. Louis rushed over, lifting the walker just enough to let Clementine slip the rest of the way out before letting it fall once more to the ground. The couple smiled at each other before glancing over to the tree where the basket dangled. Only one walker was left, reaching for the basket in dazed desperation.

“Do you want the honors, my darling?”

“Nothing would please me more,” Withdrawing her knife one last time, Clementine snuck up behind the walker and thrust the knife deep within its skull. The walker went still and she tossed it to the side, finally breathing a sigh of relief. “We actually did it,”

“That we did,” Louis smiled proudly at his wife, stepping forward to join her. Both looked up at the basket. The baby was still crying, louder than ever. They didn’t have much time before all of this would be for naught and more walkers would come wandering in. The pair shared a look. Louis dropped to his knees. “Hop up on my shoulders. I think that’s our best bet to get the basket down safely,”

Clementine nodded and climbed on, gasping slightly as her husband got back to his feet.

“You good?”

“Yeah. Take a step to your right. One more…there,” Clementine looked down into the basket for the first time. The baby couldn’t be more than a few months old. It was dressed in a ratty, oversized t-shirt and wrapped in a blanket. Its dark skin was hot to the touch, from the heat or its prolonged screams Clementine couldn’t tell. She tried to calm it for a moment before realizing that was futile until they had it safely down. Holding the sides of the basket, she looked down at Louis. “Step back slowly. We’ll have to go bit by bit till we get it off this branch,”

Louis nodded and followed suit. Inch by inch they guided the basket off the branch as the baby wailed and writhed within it. The forest seemed quiet, but they knew that could change at any second. Clementine gripped the basket tightly, adjusting and tilting it slightly to get past the bumps and grooves of the branch. Finally after what seemed like a lifetime she pulled the basket the last few inches and it was free, the weight of the basket and baby shifting to Clementine’s arms. She held it close to her chest, smiling softly down at the baby as she shifted her grip to the handle. “Gonna hand the basket down to you then hop off your back. OK, Lou?”

Louis’ hands rose to receive it. “Gotcha,”

Once she was sure the basket had been safely transferred over, Clementine slipped down from her husband’s back. She circled round to look at the crying baby Louis now held in his arms. The baby was still wailing, clearly too overwhelmed to be comforted simply through cuddles. She needed food, water, maybe medicine. “We have to get her back to the school. Then we can head back out in search of any parents or guardians she might have,”

“Look,” Louis tugged on the corner of the blanket the baby was wrapped in. On it was sewn a single word in messy, tangled thread – a name. Juliet. “Think that’s her name?”

“Maybe,” Clementine pressed the back of her hand to the baby’s forehead. Her temperature was troubling. “You carry her. I’ll cover you with the bow,”

“Alright,”

“Just give me a minute to grab the arrows,” Walking round the corpses, Clementine retrieved her spent arrows. She wondered if the person who’d left Juliet was still nearby. Did they want her? They’d left her somewhere safe, but they hadn’t come when she cried. So were they dead or simply gone? Answers would have to come later. For now their priority had to be Juliet. Rejoining her husband, Clementine notched an arrow, bow at the ready. “Let’s go,” The pair headed out side by side, the baby still sobbing against Louis’ chest. One thing was certain: they would keep Juliet safe. No matter what.

#twdg #twdg louis #twdg clementine #clouis #twdg juliet #fanfic

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vulturhythm · 4 years

Note

Hurt/Comfort with Yenfri or Geraskier? Either one is A+ but pls make it Softe ❤️ THANK YOU BEB!! 😘💕

i don’t give a fuck about timelines

we woke up sad so you get the sad

- - - - -

that unwanted animal

geralt has long since gotten used to the bite of the cuffs digging into his wrists and ankles. they can’t be broken - he’s fucking tried. enchanted, no doubt, just the same as the muzzle that’s far too tight about his chin.

he breathes in as deep as the iron collar permits, closing his eyes and letting his head bow forward. very little point in surveying his cage again. he knows nothing will have changed. still too small, too cramped, still reeking of old blood and piss and ichor from the other beasts made to rot in here.

off to one side, he hears stirring, a sharp inhale, a whine of pain.

geralt’s heart aches in time with the clatter of chains from renfri’s cage.

he had been trying to save her. he would have saved her, had stregobor not had friends in unholy places - had stregobor not had a band of highwaymen awaiting them on every road leading out of blaviken.

roach is lying dead somewhere, a bolt between her eyes.

a bolt just like the one still deep in renfri’s thigh.

geralt had tried. he’d fought. he’d yelled at renfri to run, to grab one of their horses and leave, and yet, she had insisted upon staying behind, upon trying to fight with him.

geralt doubts he’ll ever forget the pain that came when a silver chain was flung in his direction, when it looped around his throat and yanked him off his feet.

i’m not a monster, he had wanted to scream, but it had pulled too tight for him to even breathe.

the hands he’d raised to grab at the chain were snatched away by the men who came to pin him down; his only satisfaction was that he had kneed one of them in the groin and nearly thrown the other aside before they forced the manacles about his wrists.

he knows he’ll never forget the scream that tore itself from renfri’s throat when they chained her down just the same; he knows he’ll never stop feeling guilty for failing her.

after all, she had been running to his aid when they shot her. their eyes had met as the men forced the muzzle onto geralt’s face, as renfri cried out and fell forward, leg shot numb.

he knows -

the sound of movement elsewhere in the deep dark cellar cuts geralt’s train of thought in two, and he lifts his head as much as the weight of his restraints allows, peering ahead into the darkness. he and renfri are the only two humanoids in the room, he knows this much; there’s a siren, halfway dehydrated and nearly dead, in a cage across from him, but geralt doubts it’s strong enough to pose any threat to their captors.

geralt isn’t even entirely sure where they are, to be entirely honest.

he had fallen unconscious shortly into the process of fitting the muzzle. after all, there were prongs that had to be inserted, piercing through the flesh of his cheeks and hooking through eachother where they met above his tongue.

even now, the wounds beginning to heal thanks to his mutations, there’s fresh blood on his tongue, and he doesn’t dare make a sound.

his best guess is that they’re beneath stregobor’s residence, hidden away where he can keep on eye on the cursed girl and her inhuman would-be savior.

he has to wonder, though, what good stregobor has for him.

the sound across the room has abated. geralt sighs, and closes his eyes.

- - -

he must have faded back into unconsciousness at some point, for geralt awakens with a start when he hears a scream overhead. he jerks his head up to stare, golden eyes adjusting to the darkness but offering him no more than the sight of the dingy stone ceiling.

a moment later, it hits him - new scents, nearly drowned out by the reek of blood and decay.

magic.

magic, and - and lilac.

geralt goes tense, fists clenching tight where they’re bound. surely she didn’t -

cedarwood and wildflowers.

surely he didn’t.

surely.

they’re not that foolish...

... and yet, even as he’s doing his godsdamn best to convince himself otherwise, the scream cuts off, and the upper floors go silent.

geralt turns his head, catches renfri’s eye where she’s staring at him. blessedly free of a muzzle, she’s gagged all the same, a scrap of her own clothing shoved between her teeth, so the only sound she can offer is one of plaintive confusion, but it’s enough.

the witcher shakes his head, just barely, turning his eyes toward the door when he hears harried footsteps coming down.

the light that bursts into the cellar once the doors are opened makes him recoil, and he hears the siren shriek - too bright, too sudden, too -

there’s a rush of motion, and geralt draws back, instinct making him dread the quick approach even though he recognizes the scent, would know it throuh is sleep.

“oh, geralt,” comes a soft and broken voice, and as geralt’s eyes adjust once more, he sees jaskier kneeling just in front of his cage, looking him over with such heartbreak in his eyes that he can’t help but ache. “geralt, my love, i’m so sorry we weren’t here sooner.”

he says nothing - he can’t. exhaling slow, geralt lowers his head, tipping forward to lean his weight against the cage door; jaskier reaches for him, brushes a gentle fingertip along his brow through the grate. “yennefer,” he says, and geralt sighs.

the sorceress approaches, slower and with much more grace than jaskier, something for which geralt is distantly grateful; he knows it’ll take time to unlearn fear. he turns his eyes upward, sits back reluctantly and watches as yennefer kneels.

“stregobor is dead,” she tells him softly, holding his gaze as she fits a stolen key into the lock. “she’s safe now.”

geralt tips his head in the barest mimicry of a nod, breathing out in relief when the door of the cage swings open. yennefer reaches for him once more, telegraphing every motion, and he offers no resistance as she unlocks first his manacles, then the collar about his throat. “i can’t take the muzzle off here,” she sighs, sitting back on her heels, “and i know you loathe portals, but i can treat your wounds at my home.”

he nods once more, testing his wrists and hands. it’s easy enough to sense yennefer’s restlessness; with a soft huff, he tilts his chin toward renfri’s cage. the sorceress murmurs a soft “thank you” before she stands.

yennefer gone, jaskier takes her place once more, helping geralt shuffle forward on his knees until he’s out of the cage and on solid ground. “my wolf,” he whispers, low and forlorn; geralt would have offered him a smile, had he any left to give. “my love...”

jaskier’s arms fold carefully around his shoulders, and geralt offers no resistance, leaning forward to rest his head upon his bard’s chest. he breathes in deeply of his scent, closing his eyes and resting trembling hands on his waist.

he can hear his bard rambling, telling of how they tracked him down - trying to fill the silence, no doubt - but geralt is distracted. he turns his gaze to the women across the room, to where yennefer is setting the key aside and drawing renfri into her arms.

perhaps yennefer will do a better job of protecting her love than geralt had.

the smell of fresh blood hits him a moment later, and it gives geralt pause. he draws back, back until jaskier drops his hands and falls silent, looking at him with worry plain. geralt doesn’t meet his gaze, his eyes fixated upon the blood slowly drying on his hands.

jaskier glances down, clears his throat. “stregobor,” he says at last, and there’s an awkward sort of vindication in his tone.

geralt knows he won’t stand for being coddled.

he’s killed now. he’s killed -

...

geralt’s mouth aches as he forces his tongue to work, and he feels new blood dripping in, but it’s no matter, not right now. he forces out a single sound, crippled voice rising at the end.

why?

jaskier’s eyes widen briefly, and he reaches for geralt once more, brushing his matted hair aside. “because i care about you,” he whispers, his touch featherlight. “because... because i love you.”

- - - - -

yeah this ran away from me i hope you do not mind ily @justjessiehere

#answered asks #geraskier #gerlion #geralt x dandelion #geralt x jaskier #yenfri #yennefer x renfri #whump #angst #my fics

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stilesloverdaily · 4 years

Text

I’m Proud Of You

Shawn Mendes x Latin!Fem!Reader

Words: 2k

Note: mentions of a restraining order, legit the tiniest piece of spanish, based this on a dream I had. slightly smut implied, fluff

The zip to your red and white striped jumpsuit, was slid up up your back, Shawn’s soft hands resting on your hips afterward. He swayed the two of you for a moment, and you couldn’t help the small smile that graced your face.

This was your first real appearance as a couple, the Latin American Music Awards, Shawn’s song with Camila was nominated which is why your tall, white, brown haired boyfriend and you were going. Both of you had been spotted around in public after the Camila situation died down, but the fans thought you were his friend as they thought Camila was still dating your Canadian boyfriend.

You and Shawn had technically been dating before the ‘Shawmila’ dating stunt. At first you were fine with it, but then you were threatened by Camila who wanted Shawn for real, which although you knew wasn’t gonna happen, you broke up with Shawn mid-tour as it ‘wasn’t your scene after all’, not mentioning the Camila part, as you want them to succeed anyway. Shawn eventually flew to where you lived after finding out from Connor exactly why you broke up.

Fast forward, here you two were happy, the tour had finished, you were living together with Brian, and you’d never been happier. After Camila harassed and assaulted you twice, you got a restraining order against her without the public knowing to keep Shawn’s reputation and Cuban woman’s as it was the right thing to do; no matter how you were treated. They had a song together and it was best to do it under wraps.

You eventually told Shawn and informed Camila through her lawyer. Brian having helped you, was by your side during the whole thing as you’d thought of the idea whilst having a drink by the pool at the house (a Cola for you and him a beer, as you weren’t much of a drinker).

The contract between Shawn and Camila for dating had ended the week before the LAMAs. Meaning you could both go together, Shawn wanting to take you anyway as you were Latin American, not 100% but half.

You bit your lip bottom lip out of nerves, as this would be a proper outing as a couple, not a friends. Shawn’s hand came up from your waist to move a piece of hair to behind your ear, pressing a kiss below it. “Ready, gorgeous?”

Smiling, you hummed in agreement. You turn it his arms, eyeing his outfit, white pants with a red dress shirt, the shirt fitting him nice around the biceps and chest. His top buttons were undone, showing of the little chest hair he had, which until you had met Shawn, you didn’t like chest hair. “You look charming.” His soft locks were gelled to perfection as always.

“You look absolutely breathtaking.” Shawn looked between your nude painted lips, and brown eyes surrounded by a red shadow with a white inner corner and highlight. Mascara graced your lashes, a layer of concealer on your face set in place with setting powder, your makeup not being much as that’s how you liked it. The gold metal belt around your waist helped tie in your tan skin tone. The shoes on your feet were a red heel.

Blushing, you looked up at his beautiful light brown eyes, “Are you sure, you want to do this? I mean what about Camila and the restraining order? What will the fans say? What about- ”

You were cut off by Shawn’s soft lips, his smile noticeable through the kiss. After a moment, he pulled away, “Of course I’m sure, I love you and I talked to the people running the event and they are making sure Camila and you don’t sit near each other. The fans already love you even though they thought we were friends. I’ve seen edits about you on instagram and any other queries are just you worrying about things, it’ll be fine. I promise. Plus, I’ll need a translator.”

Chuckling, you smile at the thought that through everything he’s stuck with you, and although you have this restraining order he still wants to be seen with you and for you to come with him, even going as far as organising that you sit a certain distance from her. “I love you, you know that?”

He grins and his eyes look at you holding nothing but love. “Oh, I know. Trust me.” He kissed you again, careful not to mess with your lipstick.

The two of you were about to walk the red carpet, your hands were fiddling with each other, your tattoo on your wrist catching your eyes. Breathing in, you think of the man next to you chatting with the lady about to announce your arrival. She held signs saying ‘Shawn Mendes & His Date’ followed by your name. The fact that your name was on a laminated sheet of paper made you both nervous and confident, like you were supposed to be there.

Shaking your head, you try to rid of the negative thoughts, like how you suddenly felt bloated and ugly. Shawn placed his hand on your lower back, instantly calming you. The April weather of Vegas made you feel the perfect temperature. The lady who was just talking to Shawn led the people in front of you to walk on to the carpet, whilst Shawn turned to you.

“Alright, so we’ll walk on when motioned to.” You nod, taking slow breaths. “We’ll get shouted at from all angles, but just look in different directions at the paps. We will be taking joint photos then single photos, just to show off outfits.” The fact you would be photographed without Shawn in front of all those people made you tense. He felt it and added, “It’ll be fine and I’ll be close by, it will be about a minute and if you need to leave, just say my name.”

Breathing out, you nodded as the lady came back. “Your turn.” She spoke to you and Shawn with a slight accent.

Shawn’s hand stayed on your lower back as you walked out with the lady holding the sign to the paps. You matched Shawn’s pace, not wanting to walk too fast or too slow. Gulping, you stopped on the marker with Shawn, and smiled at the flashing cameras, trying not to blink too much.

You’d seen Shawn do this many times, and with his anxiety he seemed fine, so you relaxed.

People shouted your name and his as you stood and posed with him, making it look as natural as possible. Soon, it was time to take single shots, so Shawn moved to the next marker and you stayed where you were.

You smiled with teeth and not, your arm on your waist, leg extended a little, looking over your shoulder and looking forward. Trying to show the outfit as much as you could, whilst still making it natural. This kinda made you nervous, but honestly, mainly confident and sexy.

Glancing to Shawn after a moment, he was ushering you to him which you obliged to, as you might have messed your eyes up with those flashing lights. Both of you moved further down the carpet to the billboard interviewer, who asked about both of your outfits and the nomination. She then mentioned how Shawn had brought you to which he replied sweetly, “I wanted to bring someone special as this is my first time at the Latin American Music Awards, so I brought Y/N to share this experience with and also translate the Spanish spoken. But mainly, cause I thought it was about time to.”

He said no more, even though it was clear the interviewer wanted more, but we were ushered from the carpet into the venue. Apparently, Camilla was arriving. We were shown to our seats on the right side of the Venetian, the stage in full view.

“I’m proud of you.” Shawn whispers in your ear.

Smiling you whisper back, “Espero que ganes, preciosa.” [I hope you win, gorgeous].

“I have no idea what you said, beside preciosa, but it sounded beautiful coming from you.” He leaned in and kissed your lips.

Shawn had obviously won ‘cause he’s amazing and talented. Him and Camila walked on stage to accept the award before disappearing backstage, leaving you alone for a bit which was uncomfortable, but he soon reappeared apologising. But you didn’t care, cause he’d won and you loved his smile, and the hard work he puts into his projects. Oh, and you loved him.

You were both at the after party now and were dancing to Mi Necesita, you were low key grinding against Shawn, which he really didn’t mind. His hands followed your sides down to your legs, making you all hot and bothered. Shawn leaned his forehead into your neck, which wasn’t as much of a bend since you were in heels, trotting kisses along your neck as you leaned back into him with a smile on your face.

Oh, how you loved him.

His hands slid from your thighs upwards to your waist, resting on it as you swayed. “You wanna get out of here?” He whispered into your ear.

You smiled, nodding. Turning in his arms, you saw his lazy boyish smile, kissing his lips quickly. “Come on, Bub.” You motioned with your head to head to the exit, your hand in his. “I have an idea where we can go.”

Your shoes were somewhere on the floor with his, you had made a quick stop at the drugstore. Shawn held you close as you danced away in your laces, your feet gliding together. Lips tangled with each other as you kissed, smiles on both your faces. His cheeks were rosy as was his chest, his chest hairs teasing you.

Pulling away, you chuckled at how cute he looked.

There your 6”2 boyfriend stood, rosy cheeks, hair a mess because of your curious hands, shirt untucked from his white dress pants, nose red, and of course, the ice skates laced on his big feet. You held a hand to your face as you shamelessly checked him out. Shawn spun in a circle when he noticed you checking him out, being dramatic, he bowed afterwards. Laughing, you almost slipped in your own skates, he quickly helped you regain your balance before, you smirked and skated off, pushing him playfully.

“Oh, I see how it is.” He skated after you, as you giggled. Shawn watched on as he chased you, a smile on his face at how cute you were. You still had your jumpsuit on, hair down, his jacket on you as you were cold and to finish off a perfect look, the ice skates on your feet. Now, you were fast, but he was leaner and faster with his hockey experience.

He caught up, grabbing your waist through his jacket which swamped you, spinning you in his arms. You laughed as he tickled you slightly, wrapping your legs carefully around his hips, as your eyes held contact. His brown eyes held on your eyes, a look of love held in them. Both of your lips held each other in a passion filled kiss, one filled with love and happiness.

The rink only had you two in it, along with Marty the Janitor who always let you two lovebirds skate around late at night. Even if it was spur of the moment and you had to stop to get socks.

Shawn was proud of you in every way. The award show, the red carpet and how far you’ve come in general, with your confidence and anxiety. He loved you and stood by you through every second.

“I’m proud of you.” Shawn whispered against your lips as he pulled away slightly, his eyes finding yours again.

Your fingers ran into the hair on the back of the neck, and you couldn’t help but smile at his words and how he leaned into your hands as you scratched the back of his hair. Shawn’s head fell back and leaned down and kissed his Adam’s apple, forcing a small moan from him.

“Oh god, do I love you.”

Tagged: @itsnolongerteen @justsomewritingsandshit

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fonulyn · 4 years

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Your blog makes me = 💓❣️❤️💓❤️❣️💓 Imagine. On a gym, Leon being the master yogi he is doing all this super complicated postures. And then, someone, maybe Piers or Chris? Going with a 20 of the prompts, but totally accidental. The blushes, the embarresement... *chef kiss*

i figured it was Chris’s turn to be embarrassed :’D also can I just say, I love the mere thought of bendy!Leon. it gives me life. (also thank you for such kind words, much appreciated!! ;; 💖💖)

Sure Chris had always known that Leon was flexible. Sure he had seen him even do these weird-ass yoga poses more than once. There was nothing new to it, nothing he hadn’t known to expect, and yet... apparently he would never in a million years learn to pretend like he wasn’t absolutely mesmerized by every single movement the other man made.

At first he’d tried to tell himself that he was just envious because he could never in a million years bend like that himself. Then he’d told himself he was just appreciating obvious skill, there was nothing weird about that, he could acknowledge when someone was absolutely phenomenal at what they did.

Yet at some point Chris had to admit to himself that there was a completely different reason for how much he enjoyed watching Leon pull off the weirdest of yoga-poses. The man was simply gorgeous. And Chris might’ve developed a small... no, a medium sized... well, okay, fine, a gigantic crush on him.

It had gotten so bad that when Leon twisted himself into some kind of a fucking pretzel, a leg bent behind his neck and back bowed, Chris couldn’t control what spilled out of his mouth. “You look so good on your knees like that.”

Leon froze. Jill froze. Piers froze. Everyone in the fucking gym froze, staring at Chris until it finally dawned on him what he had just said.

All color drained off Chris’ face, but a second later he could feel the blush rising instead, and try as he might he couldn’t get a single word out to somehow remedy what he’d blurted out. So instead he did the only logical thing.

He fled.

Only Chris didn’t get farther than into the next room before there was a hand on his shoulder, spinning him around, and he came face to face with Leon. Who... wasn’t glaring at him in anger, at least. That was something, right? That was definitely positive. That was a good sign. Still, Chris squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m sorry, that was wildly inappropriate.”

To his surprise, there was a warm palm on his jaw, tilting his head upwards, and only a little reluctantly Chris opened his eyes to look straight at Leon again. “C’mon, Chris,” Leon said, voice low, almost gentle, “it’s not that big of a deal. I’m not offended.”

“I’m...” Chris didn’t know how to explain what was going on in his mind so he shrugged, a little helplessly.

“I’m actually just curious,“ Leon went on like nothing was wrong, the soft smile turning into a sharper grin. “Would you maybe want to talk about this over coffee? Maybe take me out for a dinner later? And I’m sure we could work our way up to me being on my knees again. Eventually.“

There was an amused sparkle in Leon’s eyes but his offer seemed genuine. And Chris couldn’t help the excitement that coursed through him, the damn near joyous laugh that spilled from him. “I... Yes. Is now a good time for that coffee?”

Leon hooked his arm with Chris’. “Never better.”

#chreon #chris redfield #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #my fics #this was fun to write lol #i hope it's fun to read too :'D #Anonymous #ask and i shall answer #replies #chatty chat chat #my chreon fics

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jaxsteamblog · 4 years

Text

Moonbeam

Click here to read the full fic on AO3

Katara ran over the top of the lake. Her frozen footprints melted as soon as she lifted her feet. Fog rose from her pace alone, but she pulled more around her to shroud her appearance. Trying to keep her breathing steady, Katara focused on sliding instead of whatever galloping her body was presently enacting.

The spirit she was impersonating was a graceful lady after all.

For the past three days, Katara had posed as the Painted Lady to gather information from the small diseased town they camped in. Their quarry was not a prison, which frustrated her, but she and Sokka owed the Warriors a favor after getting their help in crossing in the Fire Nation.

Instead, the Kyoshi Warriors had found a small military factory that was being used as a treatment plant. The ugly iron building sat on stilts like a belligerent toad, belching out toxic waste that ran off from the chemical treatment the workers used on Fire Nation sheet metal. It wasn’t a tactical hit by any means, but the impact on the attached village would be a huge morale boost for the resistance.

So now Katara was tasked with using her disguise to bring vengeance down upon the wayward Fire Nation.

It was as she ran that Katara realized she had turned sixteen.

Sixteen and she was running full tilt toward a massive hive of enemy soldiers. Sixteen and wearing the face of an ancient spirit with none of the ancient power. Sixteen and she had only kissed two boys, both of whom wooed her in the middle of high risk missions.

Pushing a massive wave of fog before her, Katara slipped underneath the belly of the factory. Katara let the fog curl upward but made a clear chimney that gave her access to a small platform that hung under the building. Making steps in the fog, Katara climbed up and grabbed onto the railings of the metal patch. Taking a moment to spin up more fog to cover her, Katara then looked up to the hatch.

And found it already open.

Curious, but feeling the cold knot of dread form between her shoulders, Katara climbed the rusting metal ladder up to the hatch. Her conical hat raised into the building first, and nothing called out at the sight of it, so she continued up. Katara parted her wispy veil and looked around.

Two guards lay on the floor. She checked them, feeling sick at the sight of their bodies, but relaxed as she found them still breathing.

Continuing on, Katara focused on her plan. There were a number of structural beams that kept the building aloft. She could cut them down, sending the plant into the river, but that would risk dumping more of the toxic sludge into the water. So instead, she had to get rid of the equipment and then sink it.

However, as she ran into the first open space of the factory, she saw the major kink in her plan.

A single man was engaged in combat with a group of eight soldiers and he was armed with only two swords.

Each of the soldiers were Firebenders, Katara could tell from their stances, but she feared the running she heard. Any one of them could bring a rifle and this fight would be over.

Desperate, Katara looked around the room and found a large vat, steam whistling out of leaky pipes. Praying that it wasn’t under too much pressure, Katara took a deep stance and pulled.

Steam shot out in a column toward the group of fighters with scalding water following quickly after.

Katara had learned to control her breath. She knew that her energy was tied to the energy of the water and as she slowed, the water cooled. The steam obscured the fighters but didn’t burn them and the water was tepid by the time it whipped around each of the eight soldiers. Turning, Katara pulled them in different directions and then used water to freeze a path she could properly glide on. Heading toward the sword fighter, Katara stopped and rose on a column of fog and water.

“I shall abide this desecration no longer!” Katara said in a booming voice. “You who have brought pestilence unto my river shall now suffer my wrath!”

Katara sent out massive spikes of ice, piercing walls, equipment, and platforms in shrieks. The sword fighter, a man in a blue Oni mask, hopped up the trunks of the spikes till he got to eye level.

“Who are you?” He asked, his voice muffled by the unmoving mask.

“I am the Painted Lady, Spirit of the Jang Hui River.” Katara replied. Movement at the corner of her eye caught her attention and she sent more water at a platform, knocking back two more soldiers. Their guns went flying and Katara’s heart fluttered.

“You’ve been healing the villagers.” The Blue Spirit said.

“I never turn my back on people who need me.” She said. Gunfire erupted from the platform and Katara could feel the impact of the bullets on the water around her.

“I would be glad for the help of your ladyship.” The Blue Spirit said and Katara gave a curt nod.

“Find what pollutes my waters and I will help you.” She said. The man nodded back and jumped down, brandishing his swords and running off. Katara poured after him, pulling more water in from waste pipes. She flooded furnaces and shoved soldiers back into hallways or small rooms, freezing doorways shut.

A klaxon went off, shearing through her head but not slowing her. As long as she could see the shooters, the bullets were caught with relative ease, while the Firebenders couldn’t risk too large of a fire in close quarters. So she went through the factory, like a sentient hurricane, and destroyed everything she could.

When she got to a narrow doorway, Katara froze the metal and then shoved it, bending the now brittle metal back to allow her space. Still she had to send thick tentacles of water before her, sweeping a clear path, and trailed a tail of water behind her, beating back any pursuers.

Deeper into the factory, she found what she was looking for. A large tank that reeked of chemicals had multiple spray nozzles running from it. The Blue Spirit stood on top of it, hacking each of the nozzles off.

For each one that he removed, Katara froze the hole it left. But when it came to remove the tank from the metal supports, the Blue Spirit sheathed his swords. Katara prepared two sharp arms of water to begin sawing through the supports, but paused as an explosion pushed her off balance. A large man stood in a glowing, smoking hole in the wall.

“I’d get promoted by just capturing the Blue Spirit. But two? I’ll become an advisor to the Fire Lord himself with this!” The man exclaimed and broke into booming laughter. Katara snarled and surged forward, sending out whips of water. The Firebender brought up a wall of flame, sending back scalding steam that Katara had to reabsorb before it hurt her. Then, two more soldiers appeared.

Holding assault rifles.

Swearing to herself, Katara threw a shield of ice in front of the Blue Spirit and the bullets sunk deep into the surface, sending out long cracks. The moment the shield broke, the Blue Spirit shot back with fire of his own.

Frowning as she thought, Katara still put out a road of ice and the Blue Spirit started running. He leaped upward and caught one of the soldiers with the gun and used it to strangle him. Still so close to the others, the Blue Spirit pulled back and kicked fire upward as he flipped, sending the soldier tumbling out of the hole while retaining his hold on the gun.

Katara had to trust him and she turned her focus back on the machine. She swiped at the metal supports with blades of water, sweat pouring down from her hairline. She cut them free and caught the machine in water, sinking as she lost some of her own support.

“Let’s go!” Katara called and turned just in time to see the Blue Spirit dive into the Firebenders flame, split the tunnel with his hands, and then headbutt the man directly in the face. As the large Firebender staggered backward, Katara again sent out a lane of ice and the Blue Spirit ran to her. He jumped on top of the machine and sent a large blast of fire up to the metal ceiling. Punching it with a boulder of ice, Katara rent open the metal and launched the machine through it, following after on the remains of her collected water.

Now in the open, Katara pulled more water to her.

“What now?” The Blue Spirit asked.

“I have to make landfall. There’s a place I can bury this till others can deal with it.” Katara said.

“How much can you carry?” He questioned. Katara pulled herself up to her full height.

“More than you can, mortal.” She said haughtily. The Blue Spirit bowed.

“Of course. Pardon me, my lady.” He said. Katara made a noise in displeasure but pulled the water around the machine and then perched on it. Giving it legs, Katara formed a headless water spider and the Blue Spirit pulled himself up, sitting on the bulbous body.

More fire erupted from the hole as two soldiers shot upward to follow them.

“That’s enough!” Katara shouted, pulling up two separate columns of water and slamming them over the hole, ramming the two soldiers back down. She froze the water and then urged the water spider onward.

“Huh.” The Blue Spirit said and Katara smiled to herself, hidden behind her long veil.

They made it back onto land where the factory clung to a cliff face like a parasite. It didn’t take much for her to bring up a swell from the river and yank the whole thing free. It bobbed in the water and Katara could see people begin to spill out, finding lifeboats tucked here and there.

As for the spirits, they continued up the cliff nearly without incident. The Blue Spirit couldn’t hold himself to the water and nearly fell off until Katara made a hold for him.

When they reached the top, Katara headed for the woods. The water body sloshed and she could angle it, letting the legs prop on tree trunks as the machine was lifted and tilted to pass through narrow pathways. When she felt she was deep enough, Katara halted the water spider and lowered them. When the machine hit the ground, she and the Blue Spirit hopped off. No longer needed, Katara pulled away the water and sent it back toward the river, trusting the incline to finish her task when the water extended past her reach.

“For how impressive that was, I would almost be convinced you were a real spirit.” The Blue Spirit said as he walked up to her.

“And why do you presume I am not?” Katara asked. His hand moved quickly and she flinched, but he pulled it back slowly to show the red paint on his black gloved fingers.

“I don’t think spirits can sweat off their stripes.” He said. Katara swatted his hand away and stepped back.

“And who are you, to hide behind an Oni mask while betraying your people?” She demanded.

“Just that, a traitor.” He said and made a flourish of his bow.

“So what will you do now?”

“I’d like to ask for a favor.”

“I think I did you enough favors.”

The man laughed and it made Katara blush. He sounded ardent, like the heroes from the movies she used to watch with her mother.

“But a benevolent spirit such as yourself would surely find it a minor thing to give this poor mortal just one small favor.” He said and Katara turned away, feeling her face burn.

He certainly sounded like the actors from those movies.

“And what is it that you want?” She asked.

“I’d like to say I’ve earned the kiss of a spirit.” The Blue Spirit said.

Katara whirled on him and he laughed again. Still as ardent, still as clear and deep as the first. He was a trickster spirit, surely, and Katara bit her lip.

“I’m only human, same as you.” She said. The man lifted his mask, though he still wore a black sash across his eyes. It was then that some cloud passed and the light of the full moon shone down on them like a spear of light.

In the moonbeam, he stood like a shard of obsidian.

Fog curled up from the ground and it swirled at his feet as he stepped toward her again. He parted the veil and water droplets clung to the netting, shining like diamonds in the moonlight.

“Oh, I don’t think you’re like me at all.” He said and cupped her cheek.

Fog twisted around them as he leaned in, softening the moonlight.

She shielded herself from Yue’s judgement, standing suddenly bare in such stark light. She closed her eyes as the man’s lips met hers.

Taking a breath, she could smell soot, fire, and blood on the man. Around her was the rich scent of wet earth and rotting leaves. Through it all was the mist that cocooned them, turning the moonlight gauzy.

Then he pulled back.

“Thank you, for saving me.” He said and replaced his mask.

“You’re welcome.” Katara replied and watched him.

“Maybe we’ll cross paths again and I can return the favor.” He said.

“Which one?” She quipped and he laughed. This time softer, more his own.

He had a nice laugh.

“You?!” The word came out strangled and Katara nodded. Zuko stood and walked away, pacing back and forth while putting his hands in his hair.

“I couldn’t sleep for days without thinking of you.” He said, pausing to look at her before resuming his walk.

“What are you two doing?” Sokka asked as he and Suki came up the stairs.

“Your sister was the Painted Lady?” Zuko asked, turning to Sokka, who looked confused.

“Yeah?” He replied.

“He was the Blue Spirit.” Katara stated in a panic.

“What?” Sokka squawked at the same time Suki said slowly, “Oooooh.”

“We met,” Katara said. “At the Jang Hui river.”

“What?!” Sokka repeated, sounding more alarmed.

“Did something happen?” Suki asked, and then, looking at both Katara and Zuko’s pained faces, brightened. “Oh spirits, something happened.”

“Wait. Wait.” Sokka now started to sound alarmed. “Zuko, do you like my sister?”

Zuko’s jaw dropped and his hands fell down to his sides.

“How are you both so dense?” He asked.

“Hey!” Katara interjected just as Sokka sputtered, “Dense?”

“Oh this is absolutely the best way this week could have gone and it hasn’t even gotten to the good part.” Suki said to herself, laughing.

Katara glared at her and Suki sniffed, rubbing her nose.

“Good for me.” Suki said and then shrugged. “And hopefully Sokka.”

“I’m not going to be happy until Zuko promises to leave my sister alone!” Sokka retorted.

“Enough!” Katara shouted, finally standing. “I’m going to bed.”

“Katara…” Zuko started.

“Nyeh!” She said and waved her arms above her head. “Bed.”

The moon glowed above them and the ocean crashed behind them, and Katara felt herself being yanked back and forth.

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#zutara #fanfiction #jax writes #modern au #zutara month 2020 #the fic that prompts built

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