#tw past abuse
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There was a time when Simon broke Price’s heart every day.
It wasn’t his fault, not at all. And Price would hate it if Simon took it as such. Which is probably why Price didn’t say anything for so long.
But he saw.
He saw how Simon would immediately tense and drop what he was doing whenever Price walked in, even if he was on his off time.
He saw how Simon’s jaw clenched when he relayed bad news to Price, almost expecting a berating for something out of his hands.
(Price had growled and banged his hand on the table once, the almost imperceptible jump Simon did because of it was enough for Price to regret it)
And he saw how Simon flinched when Price went to pat him on the back. That one hurt like a bastard.
But one night, when Simon surprised him with a knock on the door to drop off some papers, Price knew he needed to do something, watching as Simon apologised and edged into the room.
“Could I say something, Simon?” Price asks before Simon can turn to leave.
Simon freezes. “Alright, sir?” He holds his hands behind his back. Attentive, obedient, anxious.
Price keeps his movements casual, not knowing how else to ease Simon’s nerves.
“I’m not your father, Simon,”
There’s a tense silence.
Simon huffs a half-hearted laugh. “I’m… aware of that, sir…”
Price shakes his head. He gets up, and reaches out to place a hand on Simon’s shoulder.
Simon tenses, but stays put.
“I mean, son…” Price says, “I’m not like your father.”
Simon’s cautiously confused gaze drops into something fragile for a second. His eyes move away from Price’s and he fiddles with his gloves.
“I know that too, sir,” he says, clearing his throat.
“Good man,” Price says, knowing he’s pushing his luck. “Go on, you’re free from paperwork for one night at least.”
“Thank you, sir,” Simon mutters and legs it out of there.
At the time, Price thought he’d fucked it all up. And maybe he did.
But now, Price swears he sees a different side of Simon. Youthful, vibrant, and free.
And his heart is made full again.
#tw past abuse#tw abuse mention#simon ghost riley#john price#ghostsoap#soapghost#ghost x soap#ghoap#call of duty#cod#kind of corny but idk i thought of this on a whim
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Vampire Waltz - ch 5
Max Phillips x female reader
Co-written with @absurdthirst
A mysterious inheritance, sprawling mansion, eccentric roommates, friendly bat, and coven of New England witches are the newest chapter of your life after being unceremoniously dumped and kicked out by your boyfriend. For Max, the biggest change in his life is you, and what exactly he's going to do about the fact that he is stuck living with you as long as his sire continues to punish him for that incident at his last office...
Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+
Word Count: 10.4k
Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships. Anxiety and trauma responses. Self-worth issues.* Teasing, fluff, Dolly has low self esteem but it's not her fault, Bat Max comes with his own warning.
Summary: In the course of one day, conversations turn from right interesting to downright life-changing, as Max starts to learn the truth of your connection from you but also from his sire.
Notes: Big revelations are coming, folx! 🎵 Let's have a beautiful picture of the wonderful ballroom this week.
Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4
You really should be paying more attention as Candance and Tracy talk through coven business. The room that you have come to know as the Green Salon in your inherited house is full to the brim with coven members all talking about the food drive they want to help out at for Thanksgiving next month. There are volunteer signups to follow through with and your own can drive to be organized, and you have to admit that this is the most community-focused coven that you've ever been a part of. But still you can't focus. The dreams have been so vivid lately, and they're such a mix of topics – your little bat friend pops up so often, and you haven't dreamt about Yayo in years. And now...now thoughts of Max are starting to slip in between the cracks and you aren't quite sure what it all means.
Mrs. Taylor smiles as she listens to the chattering of the coven. It's been too long since there has been life within these walls. He had been right in assuming that you would bring that life back to the mansion. Knocking on the door, she opens it to find several heads turned her way and she clears her throat. "Ladies, lunch is served."
"Thank you, Mrs. Taylor." Her appearance snaps you out of your daze for a moment, and you lend her a grateful smile. Breakfast this morning was simple because it was just for you, but Renee said that Mrs. Taylor had already been toiling away on lunch from early in the morning. She seems to revel in having people in the house again and you are the last person to want to deny someone the thing that makes them happy.
"Let's go in and we can start planning the masquerade while we eat," Allison suggests, pushing up from the couch that the two of you had been sitting on.
The housekeeper smiles before she disappears again. Aware that he is upstairs and once the meal is presented for the humans, she is going to take him one of the special blood bags that he requests when he is in residence.
The coven has preferred things ‘family style’ in recent years, even when Ms. Brown was a more traditional and formal woman most of the time. So Mrs. Taylor has set the table with bowls of fresh salad, baskets of warm homemade crusty bread, and tureens of steaming hot beef bourguignon. A few of the ladies, Allison included, all groan happily to have Mrs. Taylor’s cooking back. She pulls out a notebook to place at her seat but pauses, allowing herself what she thinks is a private smile when Eddie enters the dining room.
“Is it still alright for me to join you?” He asks, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans and a nervous expression on his face as he looks around. The invitation is a week old and might not still hold, so he wants to check.
"Of course!" Allison leaps up from her chair, even though it technically should be you answering Eddie since it is your house. "I mean, I don't think anyone would mind, right?" She looks around the table and is silently grateful for when the girls easily shift down to leave a spot right next to her own chair for the vampire to sit.
“Of course.” When you echo your agreement that seems to be the end of any debate at all. “We were going to start planning the masquerade while we eat.”
"Oh, I have to admit, I am hoping that I am invited." He tells the coven hopefully, giving them a charming grin. "I have always wanted to go to a masquerade."
“Of course you will be.” Candace pipes up from across the table, where the bread basket is already being passed around. “You live here. It would be awfully rude not to invite you when you live here.” Of course, it’s for Allison’s benefit too. And for you, since you seem a little more relaxed around Eddie than most other people.
"That's good." He makes sure to pass the bread to Allison when it comes his way, not taking one for himself. "Is this - it's going to be a thing that requires dates?" He slides his hands under the table to rub them on his thighs. His hands aren't sweaty anymore, he doesn't sweat, but he is nervous.
"It could be." Allison worries her bottom lip as she takes a slice of warm bread and passes you the basket. "What do you think, Dolly?"
"It...it doesn't seem nice to make it mandatory," you admit, taking a slice of bread and passing the basket along again. You can't imagine anyone in the world would be your date to such a thing and you would hate to be excluded from the night for something like that. Especially, like Candance said, with it being held in your own house. "But dancing is always fun with a partner."
Eddie nods, sensing that you don't like the idea. "Then we should make sure that it's not required to have dates, but maybe the guest list is even to make sure everyone is paired up when it comes to dancing."
“Like dance cards?” The salad is making its way around now and once more Eddie passes it on while he listens to you. “As in…something old fashioned? Dance cards for everyone who wants one?”
“I don’t know what it would be like, but I love the sound of that.” He glances towards Allison and wonders if he can make sure that he is on her dance card more than once.
“Mrs. Taylor brought out some old photographs from past masquerades in the house.” You haven’t seen them yet, but you’ve been told that all the gowns were one of a kind and the men looked resplendent in their costumes. That’s what Mrs. Taylor said, with absolute rhapsody on her face. “A hundred and fifty years ago they would start the ball at ten or so at night, serve supper around midnight, and end the thing with breakfast at sunrise for whoever was left.”
“That sounds perfect.” Of course, Eddie knows why it was held at night, but he’s not going to say anything about that. “Are you thinking of keeping to that tradition?”
“How does it sound to everyone else?” You ask, looking around the table.
“I think it’s a wonderful idea.” Of course, Allison would practically think anything Eddie suggests would be wonderful, but this does sound amazing. “It’s an ode to the past.”
“A return to the Gilded Age sounds fun.” Candace agrees. “We can do themed menus if Mrs. Taylor is okay with it? And encourage historical costumes?”
“I think that Mrs. Taylor would love that.” Eddie agrees. “She loves things like that. It would make her year. And I’ll help out wherever I can.”
“Thirteen of us, plus guests. That’s a fairly big party isn’t it?” You differ to Mrs. Taylor, who has popped into the dining room again to bring more bread like she somehow magically knew the first round would go instantly.
“Invite as many as you like, ladies,” she insists. Her smile is excited and eyes are twinkling like she has a secret she is just bursting to share. “This house can handle hundreds.”
“You could always invite the town as well.” Eddie suggests. “Make it the event of the season.”
“The whole town? Can we do that?” Tracy looks intrigued at the idea and glances around the table. “It could be a hell of a fundraiser, and I know we’re always looking for ways to do more good in the community.”
“It could be a ticketed event.” Eddie muses. “All proceeds going to the coven's charitable works?”
"It actually sounds like a whole lot of fun." The last time you organized any kind of dance or fundraiser was with your dance studios in high school and then in college, but back then it had been a blast to get decorations, refreshments, flyers, and all the necessary things sorted out for big events. It was a sense of accomplishment that nothing else quite seemed to give you. Bringing people together and seeing everyone happy? Your mother called it your hostess's heart, and had always said you would use it to help people one day. This seems like a beautiful way to make her words come true. "Tracy, you work at town hall, don't you? If we need any permits for serving alcohol or having a large fundraiser, would you be able to take care of them?"
“Of course!” Tracy beams at the thought of being able to help in any significant way. “I’ll find out Monday and let you know.”
“What about music?” Allison asks next. Everyone is starting to eat, and people are getting excited. And with Eddie sitting beside her, Allison has to admit that she’s more than a little excited, too.
“You know…..” Eddie tilts his head. “The orchestra group in college has been talking about needing to have more live events.” He sounds out. “To practice. What if I see if they would like to perform?”
“That would be perfect!” Candace lights up at the table and few of the other girls nod alongside her. “Gilded Age theme, right? Maybe we can make it like classical versions of pop songs? Like they did for Bridgerton?”
“I’ll ask them.” Eddie chuckles and nods his head. “It’ll be a challenge that I think they would enjoy.”
“I’ll ask Mrs. Taylor to look out for any old boxes of party decorations from long enough ago to be an inspiration for us. If we’re lucky there will be something in the attic alongside the clothing we borrowed this week. I sort of get the feeling that most things don’t get thrown out in this house.” As always, Mrs. Taylor’s cooking is off the walls amazing and all around the table people are humming happily and enjoying their lunch as the planning picks up.
“The house is basically a museum.” Eddie snorts, sipping his double walled cup. “What could possibly give you the idea they don’t like throwing things away?” He winks at you to remind you that he’s teasing playfully.
"It's a beautiful museum." Every day you spend here, you fall more and more in love with the house. There's always new details to discover. New intricacies in the carvings, new details in the paintings, new trinkets in the cases all around the hallways. "I'm glad everything got kept. It gives it so much more character than all the brand new houses that are just painted white and made of one big room divided by furniture you're not supposed to touch."
Eddie tilts his head, watching you smile, and he thinks about how far you have come since the first time he had talked to you. Even your posture is more assertive, as if you have come into your own skin. He would believe you had been turned if it weren’t for the steady thump of your heartbeat, mixed with those of your coven.
"So when are we doing this?" Allison has her notebook, and in the front is a calendar that is just positively chock full of little notes to herself but she flips open to it anyway. "Can we actually get all of this organized by the end of the month?"
“I’ve already aired the ballroom out.” Mrs. Taylor announces, having just come back from the tower. “As far as the menu goes, you tell me what you would like and it will be done.”
“Mrs. Taylor thinks we can manage it.” And for some reason that bolsters you more than almost anything else. It just makes you wish that you had someone to dance with. “That’s good enough for me.”
“Invitations, tickets will need to be printed.” She muses. “Perhaps an ad in the paper?”
"We can hand out flyers at the farmer's market," Allison nods, glad to see the infectious excitement go around the table. "It's going to be fantastic. I can feel it."
“Since your theme is the Gilded Age, the ink should be gold leaf.” Mrs. Taylor suggests. “There is a printshop in town that Ms. Brown would use.”
"You should take Max with you and check it out." Candace's suggestion takes you off guard and your eyes must get a little wider because she immediately adds, "You know...because he's business guy. Maybe he can make a deal on pricing or something?"
"Oh! I–uh–that's actually not a bad point." You wouldn't have thought to get him involved in any of this at all, but of course Candance is right. You have no head for business and that's literally all Max does. "I'll ask...see if he has any time to spare."
“Did I hear my name?” As if on an invisible cue, Max appears in the doorway of the dining room. “Ladies, ladies, speak my name and I shall appear.” He flashes everyone a charming grin but he smirks when his eyes fall on you. “Queenie, you are looking radiant, have you been plotting?” He asks playfully before he hides the one side of his mouth facing Mrs. Taylor. “I think you can take her.” He faux whispers loudly and winks at you.
"We were working out the plans for the Samhain Masquerade," you admit, probably the only one in the room who doesn't see the way you light up at Max's little joke. And only because you're too busy hiding a small laugh.
"Join us." Candance could not possibly be grinning any more widely and immediately shuffles her chair to one side to make room next to you for Max to pull up a chair.
Max looks over the food that is on display and grimaces slightly. “I’ll sit, but I couldn’t possibly eat.”
"Have an early lunch at the office?" Eddie guesses, a slight smirk going along with his raised eyebrow. He has a much stronger stomach for human food than Max does and doesn't mind still indulging in a bloodless meal from time to time.
“Lunch with the bosses.” He agrees, patting his stomach over the vest. “So what are you thinking? Aerobatic performers? Jugglers? Fire breathing?” He waggles his brows as he smirks at the table.
"We were talking about a theme." Having him sit next to you makes you suddenly hyper aware of yourself and you take a sip of your drink. "Making it an old fashioned Gilded Age thing with classical versions of modern music, food served overnight, and elaborate masquerade costumes. Even selling tickets and donating the proceeds to charity."
“That sounds fun.” Max chuckles. “Everyone will shit themselves to get exclusive tickets.”
“And we’ll be taking a poll of every guy who buys a ticket to find one good enough for Dolly,” Tracy adds, wondering how Max would react to that idea after seeing the way he had marked you at the Mabon bonfire. They had all seen it, and all understood that you had no idea it was Max. Which only makes the whole thing more fun.
That makes the grin slide off Max's face. Just for a split second before he forces his lips to twist up out of the pout that had taken over before you could notice. He's not going to make you think that he is controlling, not with the way you react to everything. "That's a tall order." He settles for a slight grumble in his voice as he leans back in his seat.
“Newport’s a pretty decent sized town, I bet we can make it happen.” She caught the slight slip in his expression and is fucking delighted by it. None of them have ever seen Max actually care about another being and it has the few of them that talked about it convinced that he must actually be feeling things for you. “We’re going to make sure her dance card is completely full.”
"Good luck." Max snorts, crossing his arms and trying to look smug rather than worried that he might not spend any time with you. It's a feeling he doesn't like. "She's not going to enjoy the stomping of the men who think they can dance because they took lessons when they were twelve and haven't trod a dance floor since."
“Well,” Allison’s head tilts in curiosity and she affects a fully innocent expression as she shrugs her shoulders. She knows you don’t like to be the center of attention but this is developing in an interesting direction. “I suppose it would be different if our girl had a date for that night.”
It feels like Max is being led somewhere and he really doesn't like it. But the idea of you having some faceless date that might try to take advantage of you, or hurt your feelings has Max nearly snarling in anger. Body tensing beside you like he's a guard dog about to attack until he hears your heartbeat speed up beside him, anxiety flooding your scent. "That would be up to Dolly." He manages to keep his tone light, almost cheerful. "She might not want one."
“I don’t know anyone.” Your voice is quiet, not liking the fact that there seems to be an argument brewing over you in any way, shape, or form. The only two men you know here are Max and Eddie, and you would have to be blind not to see Eddie’s interest in Allison. “It—it really doesn’t matter anyway.” You insist. “It’s been a long time since I danced.”
"You should dance." Max frowns as he turns towards you, ignoring Allison the second it sounds like you are contemplating not dancing. This is your party, after all. "Do you want to dance?"
“Well…of course I do.” He knows better than anyone that dancing means everything to you. Having to give it up felt like it would kill you. “But it doesn’t matter. It’s not…I mean…I wouldn’t want anyone to feel like they had to ask me. That’s…not okay.”
He wants to roll his eyes at the stupidity of that statement, but he knows you will get upset. No one has to ask you. "You should go with me." He decides easily. "We are by far the best dancers and it's not like it would be taxing to pick you up." He jokes. "I can tell you who will stomp on your pretty dance shoes and who would be a moderately good dancer, though, not nearly as good as I am."
The entire table seems to hold its breath — half of them expecting the invitation and half taken completely aback by it. It’s not like Max Phillips has ever shown any one of them specific attention before. No. He usually hits on an entire room at once and then zeroes in on the most vulnerable. But you don’t know that side of him. You’ve never seen it. Max might be full of himself but he’s reasonably nice to you these days. He teases more than anything else, and you’re starting to learn his sense of humor. “You don’t have to do that.” You tell him, assuming he’s only asking out of pity. Out of some sense that you’re actually as pathetic as you think you are, which is absurd to everyone but you. “If you…if you want to look for someone else..I can be your backup date.” To you it seems like the best offer in the world. The most sensible and the most likely to alleviate whatever sense of duty he might feel toward you as a housemate. “It’s still weeks away. You never know what can happen.”
Max snorts and shakes his head. "I'm thinking about the competition, babe." He scoffs. "No one could keep up and it's better that the best dancers are paired together, right?" He knows he's cocky, that he's brash and the fear that you don't want to go with him strikes a cord that makes him slightly more bold than usual. "I'd rather have the best, and you're the best."
Unconsciously, your head tilts, surprise tempered with a swipe of confusion. “You’ve never even seen me dance.”
“I have.” Max responds vaguely.
“When?” The incredulous question comes out of your mouth instantly, knowing that you’ve danced maybe twice in the last year and neither time was in this house.
Online. That’s the real answer, but he doesn’t want to weird you out. Your competitions had been filmed. Instead he just shrugs and grins
“Well…” Slightly unsettled, you just shake your head and shift in your seat again. “You don’t have to decide now. I’m sure there’s someone else you’d like to take more, and you should be able to.” It hurts more than you expect, the idea that he would choose someone else over you, but you tell yourself to stop being silly. You’re nothing special. You never have been. And Max is…well, you’re starting to see how truly special he really is.
“No.” Max frowns when he hears the smattering of whispers and giggles but he doesn’t focus on that. Instead he’s looking at you. “We’re going together. Unless you don’t want to, of course.”
“I want to.” It’s almost too hurried. Too enthusiastic. But once it’s out of your mouth there’s no going back.
“Then it’s settled.” Eddie says quickly. “Dolly and Max are the first couple for the masquerade.”
“Perfect.” Allison practically holds up her glass in salute. “If you wanted to, I bet we could make some pretty killer king and queen costumes out of whatever clothes Mrs. Taylor finds upstairs,” She suggests instead, having noted that Max seems to be the only one who calls you Queenie.
Max doesn't seem to get the reasoning behind that and hums thoughtfully. "If she likes it. I am easy to dress." He winks playfully. "Killer abs and all that."
“I—I really don’t need to be a queen.” You protest right away, feeling like that would be way too much look at me for one night. You’ve spent so long trying desperately to fly under the radar that you doubt you would even know how to stand out anymore. You’d end up looking like a little girl playing dress up and embarrass Max. And you definitely wouldn’t want to do that. “We’ll figure out costumes along the way.”
Max raises his brow and nods, sensing that you are not comfortable with the idea. Throwing his arm around the back of your chair, he leans in. "Just as long as we can dance, right sweetheart?" His tone is low, just meant for you.
“Right.” Just as instantly as you had become uncomfortable, that one thought soothes you, and in your gratitude you end up looking Max directly in the eyes for maybe the first time ever — there are entire worlds in his deep brown eyes and somehow this is the time you’re discovering it. At the table eating lunch with a dozen other people. “As long as we can dance,” you murmur in agreement.
******
He had spent the afternoon taking care of legitimate business. Things that he had to take care of instead of spending the rest of the day with the coven of witches like he had surprisingly wanted to do. He doesn't mind the witches, having nothing against them and finding them pretty entertaining, but he had really wanted to see you more relaxed, to see the smiles that have become more common now that you have settled in and finding your place.
The ballroom seems to call your name tonight, and you aren’t sure why. Or at least you would never admit to the reason. To say that you’ve been stuck on the thought of dancing with Max all day would feel utterly silly. To admit that you perked up at the mere mention of him while having dinner out with some of the girls from the coven makes you feel like a silly teenager. It isn’t worth it. He’s just being nice, and the last time that a guy was nice to you, you ended up in a decade-long abusive relationship with him. You’re just…you’re not the kind of person who can be in a relationship. Period. So you shouldn’t be daydreaming about it, either. Especially not mere weeks after being kicked out of Derek’s house. But you know damn well that you were emotionally done with that relationship well before the door ever closed behind you.
The thing about vampires is that they are blessed, or cursed with a keen sense of hearing. You would be mortified to know that every vampire in the house could hear you fart in your sleep. Most of them had trained themselves to block out the sounds of human prowling around again. Max couldn't, or maybe wouldn't, would be a better word. Drawn to the quiet strands of "The Blue Danube". Quickly and silently making his way to the ballroom, and to you.
You shouldn’t do it. You know you shouldn’t. Anybody could just walk in, and it’s not as though you are the type of person to show off. Or that you even could show off at this point. But you just can’t resist. The thought of dancing with someone — Max — has been in your head all day and you turn on some music on your phone to take some basic waltz steps around the ballroom all on your own.
He approaches quietly. His ears filling with the strands of the music, making his fingers twitch with the urge to join you when he sees you waltzing around the large, polished dance floor. You are grace itself, floating on air and seemingly carefree as your eyes close and the small smile on your face brightens into full joy.
A few turns around the floor with your eyes closed are all it takes to find your feet and your frame again, and in mere seconds it’s like you’re back in your first rehearsal room with your first real freedom after learning to dance. It’s a return to the easiest and most natural feeling in the world. And then, without even realizing anyone was nearby, someone steps into your frame and sweeps you up in the dance.
"Seamless." Max chuckles quietly as he enjoys the look of shock on your face. Starting to lead you through the steps as the music swells. "I knew that you would be flawless."
“Max…” Pure surprise has his name coming out in a breath of disbelief, but you don’t stop moving. He’s completely right. It was seamless. “I—I didn’t hear you come in.”
"I didn't want you to hear me." He chuckles quietly. "You were caught up in the music." His grin is wide and warm as he continues to lead you through the dance.
“It’s…been a long time.” For all your protests, you never miss a step or fail to follow a lead. Maybe your frame isn’t competition ready anymore, but Max’s hold isn’t demanding it.
"It doesn't feel like it." Max counters, moving you into a dip and smirking when you gasp before he pulls you upright again.
Ballroom dancers will tell you that when you find your perfect partner, it’s obvious. Steps feel surer and your hold feels truer. The rhythm of movement feels more natural. It’s something you had thought wistfully of someday long in the future, sort of the way you thought about your soulmate. Someday my prince will come, that sort of thing. You’re just shocked to be feeling that feeling in your gut when Max pulls you up from the dip. Like your heart has skipped a beat, but that only happens in movies and fairy tales. “I think it’s all down to a strong lead,” you manage, heaping the credit on him where you feel it’s due.
“Not from what I’ve seen.” Max tuts, backing you through the next few steps and leaning in before he pulls you back in the opposite directly. “You carried your partners before. It takes talent to lead and yet make it appear that they are leading.”
“Never managed to find my perfect partner,” you mumble, unable to shake the monumental feeling that yes you have but it’s only just now. “How have you seen me dance, Max?”
“YouTube.” He shoots you a grin, shameless now that he has danced with you. “Your competitions were beautiful and it’s amazing what you will find online now, if you know where to look.”
“I guess so.” It’s not something you ever would have thought to look into, but when you give it even a little thought it makes perfect sense. “Those were…the good days,” you admit. “The best days. Giving it up felt like it might kill me.”
“Why did you stop?” That has him extremely curious because he has seen how talented you are. Even now, every step you take is more poised and confident than the last. Dancing is so naturally in your blood that you are holding a conversation while doing it.
“Gotta grow up sometime, right?” It’s a bullshit excuse. You know it is. But what else can you say? The expression on his face says he doesn’t buy that excuse for a second and you sigh while he turns you both around the room. “My boyfriend wanted me to get a full time job,” you explain quietly. “Being home to take care of the house and make dinner every night meant there was no time for competitions or classes anymore. He— he wanted me at home.”
Max frowns, finding that to be a bunch of sexist bullshit. As much as he might have joked about having the little lady barefoot in the kitchen, normally that meant getting a snack before he fucked her silly and fed from her again. “Well, he’s an asshole.” He snorts, firming his grip on your waist. “You don’t make someone you love give up what they love.”
“It was…a bad decision all around.” As the song comes to an end, another one will begin right afterward, you just don’t know what it will be. The playlist you chose was just marked Classics. “It’s a long story. Not something you need to worry about.”
The urge to compel you is nearly overwhelming, but Max resists. Instead of commanding that you tell him, he just watches you. Letting his silence do the talking for him.
“I thought he was going to rescue me.” It comes tumbling out of your mouth when his eyes fix on yours, and you’re sure that it’s just your imagination that says he wants to know everything. “I had gotten stood up on a blind date and he—my ex— he came up to me at the bar and dried my tears and took me home…and I really thought that he was going to teach me how to grow up. But it’s obvious now how naive that is to believe.”
“Did he hurt you?” Max’s voice is soft, not wanting to scare you, even if he can’t help the darkness in his eyes. The anger that leaps to life at the thought of someone hurting someone as gentle as you are.
“I—” Yes. He did. He broke down who you were as a person and tried to reconstruct you into an automaton who would do only his bidding. And he almost succeeded. “It doesn’t matter now.” The tears that spring up in your eyes are unavoidable, and your feet stop moving with the heaviness that settles on your shoulders. “He got sick of me and kicked me out and then I came here. It’s done.”
A bad dance partner would have stepped on your feet, not able to avoid continuing despite the fact that you had stopped suddenly. Max doesn’t. He sweeps you into a hug that is encompassing. “He was a fool and you are safe here.” Max had wondered why he had wanted you here, now he wonders why he had not brought you here sooner.
It’s such an unexpected gesture, for his arms to lock tight around you, and you really almost break down sobbing right there in his arms in the middle of the ballroom. You find, though, that that isn’t the message that you want to convey to him — or at least it’s not how you want to convey the message. Your gratitude is boundless, but it boils down to just one thing. “I believe you.” Is what you murmur instead, burying your face in his chest as he holds you to him.
He stands off to the side. In a corner where it’s almost impossible to see him. Slippery as the shadows on the walls and twice as deceptive. Strong, white teeth flash in a smug smile. It was working.
The most overwhelming and surprising — well, maybe not most surprising, but it certainly surprises you at first — urge you have in your whole body is to kiss him. He’s never made a single serious motion in the way of wanting you, or being interested in you. He’s never done anything but be polite. But you’re so close to him now that you feel like closer is the only way to be and stepping apart even a little would be agony.
“Queenie…” Out of the corner of his eye, Max sees something. Head whipping up only to find a wall sconce. He had sworn he had just seen a flash of movement.
“I—I’m sorry.” He must have known what you were thinking somehow. Or you must have leaned in without realizing it. Stared at his lips accidentally. Something. But he doesn’t let you out of his arms when you start to pull away self-consciously.
“Nothing to be sorry for.” Max looks back at you again. “I’m sorry. I thought I saw someone.”
“I thought…” you look to the doorway too, but there’s no one there. Not even a hint of Renee and her duster. “Thought…nevermind.”
“Thought what?” Max prompts softly, wanting to know what is going on in that pretty little head of yours. Dying of curiosity to know what you think of him.
“That you didn’t…” Your cheeks are burning hot on fire and your heartbeat is somewhere in the proximity of your eardrums rather than your chest, but you shake your head. “I thought you could tell what I was thinking. That’s why I apologized,” you admit finally, when his eyes don’t leave you for an instant.
“I could.” Max doesn’t know what you were thinking, but he’ll figure it out. “I just got distracted.”
“It doesn’t…” It doesn’t matter. It was a thought you’ve had far too many times since sitting and watching tv with him last week and he just doesn’t need to know that you’ve started dreaming about him. That’s…that’s far too much. “It’s nothing. I’m sorry.” You apologize again. If he really could tell what you were thinking then you can only assume how either disgusted or exasperated he is. But for some reason the knowledge that Max Phillips couldn’t possibly want you makes you crack apart like you’re leaving the dance studio all over again.
Max frowns slightly, not approving of the way that your eyes shutter, your shoulders seem to curl around in an effort to protect yourself. It's as bad as if you had flinched away from him, fearing that you would be hit. He slides his hand up your side and cups your cheek. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Queenie." He wants to kiss you, a feeling that he normally would act on, but he doesn't want to scare you. "When the moment is perfect." He decides, murmuring it out loud.
It’s not a rejection but it’s also not a full acceptance, and for some reason the unexpected space between the two things leaves you feeling like you’re in some sort of emotional limbo where all you can do is nod against his hand and try not to look too wistful at the gesture itself. It’s just wishful thinking that has you feeling like you never want him to let you go. At least, that’s what you’re going to keep telling yourself.
There’s a pregnant pause, a feeling in the air that makes Max lean in. Feeling that the moment is now. That he needs to get this urge to kiss you out of his system. Watching you to see if you pull away or panic fills your eyes when the front door opens. Startling him because he had been so entranced by you, he hadn’t heard anyone approaching.
Jumping away from him like a frightened children’s film or cartoon character, your whole face and body are on fire for so many different reasons but you bury your face in both hands and stammer out another vague apology before looking to the stairwell with frozen fear. “Eddie!” His name is a squeak in your voice and nothing more.
Eddie is there in an instant, obviously worried that Max had done something from the look the other vampire shoots him. Making Max narrow his eyes and huff at the assumption. The song fades and the silence in the ballroom settles awkwardly. “Dolly?” Eddie reaches for you. “Everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine.” He has awful timing, that’s all. But you’re not even sure that Max was going to kiss you. You could have been imagining it. “I—I think I’m going to grab a book from the library and turn in. Good night.” You announce, snatching up your phone and hightailing it to the library as fast as your legs will carry you.
Max huffs at Eddie. “Thanks asshole.” He grunts, rushing off towards the balcony doors that lead out to the gardens.
“What?” Eddie shrugs in complete confusion as you and Max both flee from the room.
******
Heading through the marble hall and into the library, you scoop the first edition copy of Rudyard Kipling’s Rewards and Fairies off the shelf where you left it that morning. It will make for good bedtime reading now that you’ve gone through both books you were reading previously. Quick as a mouse and just as quiet, you rush upstairs to your room with every intention of just locking yourself inside for the night. But there, sitting and chirping on your windowsill, is your little bat friend.
As soon as he had cleared the doors, Max had transformed. Not wanting you to run away from him, but he’s also found that you find comfort in his bat form. It’s interesting considering most are afraid of bats, but you pet him, snuggle him, and talk to him. He flaps his wings impatiently, telling you to open the window to let him in.
“Hey, Cutie.” It’s such a relief to see this little friendly face that what you once just called the bat as a descriptor has now become his name. Cutie is now featured in any number of bat things around your room, like little sketches tucked into the corners of your vanity mirror and the embroidered pillow that you brought home early on. You go to the window to let him in knowing that he will hop right into your hand, and leave one window cracked for him to leave by when he eventually wants to. It’s chilly, but you’re not going to trap the little guy inside the house. That would be cruel. “Were you waiting for me?” You croon, sniffing back tears of anxiety and instead focusing on petting his little head to soothe yourself.
Max chirps, acknowledging that he had been waiting for you, just not as long as you might think. He nuzzles into your hand for a moment before he shoots out of your hand, crawling up your arm and chest to curl into your neck.
“Awwe, I’m sorry I kept you waiting, Cutie.” The feeling of being hugged is as real and undeniable as being hugged by Max just a minute ago and you sniffle again before continuing to scratch the bat’s head. “Please don’t be upset with me…” Though how the little animal could show it, you don’t know. This bat is more expressive than any other creature you’ve ever known. “I…got caught up dancing. Haven’t done that in a long time.” A soft sigh escapes you and you peak down at the bat’s expression of curiosity. “Lemme put on my pajamas and I’ll read to you, okay? You seem to like that.”
Max wants to watch you undress, but even he isn’t that unethical. So he flutters off your shoulder to the chair where you sit every night he comes, reading to him. Landing on the arm rest and fluttering his wings as he folds them up, chattering at you.
It isn’t so much changing as just stripping down a few layers to your tank top, and you replace your jeans with flannel pj pants. You come out of your dressing room far more relaxed and pick up the Kipling from the side table before coming over to the chaise. “You want your nest, Cutie?” Sometimes he likes to curl up in your lap and sometimes he likes to be snuggled against you, but either way you plop down on the chaise and grab your ballet slipper throw blanket to tuck around you.
Max waits until the blanket is on your lap, hopping right into it and looking up at you. He knows you have a soft spot for this version of him, so he plays it up, cooing at you.
“Here we go.” Fixing the blanket so it’s slung over one of your shoulders gives him a cozy place to settle near your collarbone, and you could swear that the little bay must like the vibration of your voice or something because he loves to perch there. “I got us some Kipling tonight,” you tell him, feeling more relaxed by the second. “A little something different than the gothic novels I’ve been reading you.”
Max chirps again, surprised that you are in your pajamas. It’s the most amount of skin that he has ever seen on you. He decides that he will make a lap around you, get the full effect of your comfortable clothing.
“Is that an excited chirp or a chirp of protest?” Either way it makes you laugh. Just a quiet, half-huffed sound, and you open the book in your lap while Cutie takes off around your chair. He seems excitable tonight and maybe you need that. A little positive energy before bed.
You’re beautiful. He’s popping the equivalent of a bat boner from the innocent scene, unsure why you are so irresistible to him. You’re pretty and kind, but so are other women who don’t affect him as badly. Max takes another lap and damn near falls out of the sky when he sees it. Discolored skin, in an unusual grouping. A birthmark. Screeching wildly, Max dive bombs your arm to make sure he’s not seeing things. But it’s there. The matching mark that has been the only blemish on his skin since he had been brought back by his sire. You’re his fucking soulmate.
“You okay, Cutie?” He’s never lost his balance in the air like that and suddenly you’re worried there’s something wrong with the little bat’s wing. Twisting around and scooping him out of the air, you take a careful look at both appendages and don’t see anything wrong.
Those big eyes bug out even more and he squawks as if you could hear him. Soulmate. You. You’re his soulmate. There’s zero doubt in his mind that he knew that. And the fact that he kept it from Max infuriates him. But it also explains why Max was kept here. How long had he known? All of these things run through Max’s mind as he flaps his way out of your hold and immediately crawls his way up your arm to stare at your birthmark again.
"Alright, alright, if you want to hang out back there, you go right ahead." It's a weird choice, but you're the one talking to a fucking bat so who are you to judge? You just let the little guy curl up behind your shoulder and open your book to start reading. The ritual is something that you've started to find immensely soothing so you're going to appreciate every second of it tonight, while thoughts of Max still race through your head. Unshakeable and unwavering.
Just to make sure he’s not insane and it’s not some makeup covering some tattoo or whatever, his little bat tongue comes out to lick at your skin.
"What are you doing?" You twist to look at the bat over your shoulder quizzically. "Not like you can answer me, can you? It's just a birthmark, Cutie. Nothing to be confused about."
Max looks up at you, his eyes meeting yours and his tongue swipe your skin again. Convinced it’s not makeup causing the discoloration.
“What is up with you, huh?” The book goes down to your lap again and you frown a little at the winged ‘pet’. He’s never licked you or anything before. Just nuzzles and chirps or squeaks while he cuddles into you. This is all new.
Max pulls his tongue back into his mouth and climbs up your shoulder, nuzzling your cheek and chirping again. Unable to vocalize the issue, but he doesn’t want you to shoo him off.
"How about I just cover up, then." He climbs back up on your shoulder and you pull the blanket around you, covering the little star-shaped set of marks on your skin that make up your birthmark. It must confuse his little bat mind or something. That's the only explanation you can come up with. "It's just some marks on my skin, that's all." You explain, rather uselessly. After all, what does the bat care? "My skin and no one else's. I used to have tattoos, too. But...well, the person that gave them to me is gone now. So I don't have them anymore."
Max flaps his wings, squawking indignantly. He’s right here. He wonders why he wasn’t allowed to have his tattoo put back. Some kind of punishment?
“You wanna be my soulmate?” Bats don’t have soulmates. Not that you’re aware of. Just humans, some species of monkeys, and some people think that dogs and cats do but that’s just wishful thinking. But then, what is this if not wishful thinking? Talking to a bat is as wishful as it gets. “Okay, Cutie. You can be my new soulmate. Since you’re a little bit spooky and like being read to, I think it’s perfect.”
If he could preen, Bat Max would. Your words soothes him instantly and he cuddles against your pulse, cooing and almost purring happily. You accept his bat form, and that’s half the battle in his mind.
"Yeah?" You giggle softly, glad for the now familiar feeling of the small winged creature cuddling against your chest. "Is that all you wanted? Just my never ending love and devotion?" This laugh is slightly more hollow, and you pet his little head with two fingers as you pick your book up again. "Somebody might as well have it. I don't think I trust myself to actually give it to a human anymore."
Max blows out a breath, actually needing to breath as a bat, funnily enough. He hates the idea that you are so hurt that you wouldn’t trust and love again. You’re too sweet to put yourself on a shelf.
"Just you and me, Cutie." You murmur softly. "That's all I need." Maybe. Just maybe. If you say it enough, it will be true one day. Unfortunately for your heart, though, it's already given itself away. And denying it won't do a single ounce of good.
Max listens to the sadness in your voice, still freaking out because you’re his soulmate and he can’t tell you. How would he explain himself? You aren’t to know that the residents of this house are vampires. On his orders. How would he explain that he has no marks? They disappeared four years ago when he was staked through the heart and turned into a blood splatter on the wall. The only reason he’s here now is because his sire, somehow your relative, took pity on him.
Reading is calming and before long you're yawning between paragraphs and curling deeper into your blanket. When you're on the verge of drifting off you stifle another long yawn and rub two fingers along your little bat friend's head. "I'm glad you came to say hello tonight," you tell the little creature, right before your eyes shut.
Max chirps softly, listening to your heartbeat slow down. Waiting until you are asleep before he moves. Changing back to a human form and watching you. Staring at you in awe, not hearing someone else approach.
He watches as his protégé stares at you. A smile curving his lips and exposing the pointed fangs. He senses the turbulent emotions in the younger man, able to sense what he is feeling since he created him. Linked in an inextricable way. He had hoped to visit you tonight, but he sinks back into the shadows with glee. You are already entertaining it seems.
******
Deciding that it is time for a conversation - not the one Max will want, but the one he will get for now – he disappears back downstairs and settles himself in the kitchen, knowing that Max has a tendency to go for a 'midnight snack' glass of blood before turning in for the night. Sleep is not necessary the way it is for humans, but rest helps to keep vampires strong. And Max is using quite a bit of stamina every night to transform in and out of bat form.
Max whistles as he comes in the kitchen, trying to put on an air of nonchalance as he grapples with the very real knowledge that his soulmate has been discovered. He had watched you for far too long, unable to move until you had shivered in your sleep. Picking you up and carrying you over to your bed as if you were no heavier than a feather, Max had tucked you into bed again. Closing the window like he had before and slipping out of the door to come down to the kitchen. Every step he had been taking away from you being one he was forcing himself to make.
His tendency toward dramatics is well documented, especially by those closest to him, so for him to be lounging in the pitch black kitchen when Max comes in and flicks on the light out of deeply ingrained habit? Well, it should surprise no one. The skies outside have torn open and the midnight rain is torrential, making the scene all the more delightfully gothic as rain pelts the kitchen windows across the room.
“Fucking shit.” Max isn’t afraid of much, but the sight of him appearing has the younger vampire jumping slightly, his dead heart nearly leaping to life in his chest. Relaxing slightly before he remembers. “Why are you here?”
“Business.” He answers, languidly rolling the word over in his tongue and drawing out the hissing sound of the last syllable. “Amongst other reasons.” There are already two glasses of blood poured and he gestures to the other side of the kitchen table for Max to join him.
Max snorts and rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t refuse the invitation from his maker. “And does ‘other reasons’ include the human upstairs?”
“She seems to be settling in.” While it’s an observation instead of an actual answer, the older vampire shrugs one shoulder gracefully.
Frustrating, that is what the old man is. Hissing slightly, Max remembers that he also enjoys getting a rise out of people, so he leans back and picks up the glass of blood. “New pet?” He asks.
While he won’t give Max the satisfaction of a sharp reaction, he does set his glass down and let his eyes sweep over the younger vampire appraisingly. “As I understand it, she is the one keeping a pet. Not me.” He’s seen it with his own eyes. And while it’s unexpectedly charming, it certainly does represent a communication issue. “Or is ‘Cutie’ a different resident bat that I’ve not met before?”
It’s only because of the fresh blood that max has ingested that allows the flush to rise up under his skin. “She doesn’t know it’s any different from a regular bat.” He defends himself. How he knows about that, Max doesn’t know, but he always seems to know things he shouldn’t. As far as he knows, no one else in the house knows about his nearly nightly routine.
“She will eventually.” There’s spice in this blood. Something warm and tingling. Mrs. Taylor always somehow manages to provide the best of the best for him and he’s grateful to have had her for the last several hundred years. “One day she’ll know everything.”
“How long have you known?” That is the question that is burning under his skin. He doesn’t elaborate, knowing the elder understands what he is referring to.
“That she exists?” He is evasive by nature. Always has been. And he waves off the question with ease. “Her whole life.”
Max rolls his eyes again, obviously he should have been more specific. “That I am her soulmate?” He clarifies tightly.
“Oh?” One eyebrow quirks up in interest and he takes another sip of blood. “If that were true it would be a most interesting state of being. For you, of course. Entirely inconsequential to others.”
Max frowns, staring at the man who had changed him in college. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“That I firmly doubt the soulmate status of one infant vampire will matter much to the general population of mortals in the world.” The immortals, he knows, will take a great interest. They did the last time a vampire and witch were soulmates and they will take an even greater interest this time.
Max takes a sip of his blood. “Stimulating conversation, as always.”
Amused, his sire almost smiles but just the ghost of the expression makes it to his lips. “Ask the correct question and I will gladly answer.”
It’s always a game with him. “What is she to you?” Max demands, leaning forward and his eyes are darker than they should be, directed at his sire.
It isn’t the right question, but it is an important one. One that he isn’t quite ready to answer in full, but he swallows and lets his eyes close for a brief moment. “Now that Cookie is gone, she is everything to me.” It is an honest answer, if not a whole one. And certainly more than he would have given Max at any other time.
Max sighs, aware that he’s not going to get the answers he wants from the older vampire. “What’s the correct question, then?” He huffs. “Since you want to play your little games.”
“What is it you truly want to know, Maxwell?” He tilts his head in curiosity, wondering what the most important question is to his protégé’s beatless heart. The correct question is the one that matters the most — Max has not learned that lesson quite yet.
Max growls, increasingly frustrated and sure he’s not going to get an answer to his question. His maker is some kind of mood and it is impossible when he is like this. “Is she the reason I’m here?” He asks.
“Yes.” Although the question might give Max complicated feelings, his sire’s answer is simple. There is no other possible answer, in fact. “She is the reason for much.”
“Fuck.” Max is aware that the program that he was selected for was very high stakes, pun intended. Most humans were eaten. “Is she-“ he stops, wondering if he really wants to know this. “Is my connection with her the reason I was changed?”
“Partially.” After another sip of blood, his sire chuckles at the purses frown on Max’s face. “You were always going to graduate the program, Maxwell. But she is the reason that I am your sire and not a lesser vampire.”
“Because she’s somehow related to your soulmate?” He still doesn’t know the relation, but that’s because he’s never cared to ask. Not that Mrs. Taylor would spill if he didn’t wish for Max to know.
“Now you’re getting it.” The intention was never to keep the entire truth from Max. Never. But to tell him before telling you? He may be unscrupulous, but he is not uncaring.
“Why does one distant relative matter so much?” Max asks, frowning again. Since his own family turned their back on him, he’s hardened himself against that sort of connection.
“Have you ever known me to be careless in my decisions?” The honest question is not meant to be a trick, but it is meant to make Max think. “Have I not kept my family as close as I am able? And the families of those I have sired?” It may also be ever so slightly evasive, but he will not apologize for that just yet.
One thing Max can say for sure is that he is not careless. But it brings up another question. “Then why have you not brought her here sooner?” He huffs. “She’s been abused, that much is obvious.”
Shame is not a thing most creatures like to feel, and he likes it even less than most. But unfortunately shame is what he must endure, and for once he lets his protégé see the emotion in his face when he finds the younger man’s eyes. “I tried everything in my power to find her before now, but I was prevented. Kept from her. And I will never let such a thing happen again. Not for all the days I roam the endless earth. It is our duty now, to protect her. Yours and mine.”
Max bites his lip and nods. “I don’t know what she thinks of me.” He admits. “She’s more comfortable around the bat than the man. It’s- I’m drawn to her, now I know why.”
“She seemed quite fond of dancing with you.” Which is no small thing, and brings a smile unburdened to his lips. The fluffy pink tutu, tights, and shoes he had bought for an eager four-year-old spring to mind immediately. “Perhaps she ought to be trusted with the truth. That the bat and the man are one.”
Max huffs out a laugh. “And how should I do that?” He asks jokingly. “Just transform in front of her? She doesn’t believe vampires are real.”
A sigh overtakes him. Weary and far more emotional than he would normally let on, but your disbelief at the existence of vampires hurts more than he can possibly say. “She knows, in her soul. In her heart. But her mind has been bound from believing it.”
Max frowns slightly and rubs his tongue over his teeth. “It sounds like you believe she was supposed to be raised in this world.”
“Because she was.” A flash of anger in his eyes has to be tamped down before he says more than he should, but the point is firm. “She was born to it. She belongs here.”
“Okaaaaaay.” Max’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise at the passionate answer. Sometimes it seemed like Cookie was the only thing the older vampire cared about. Obviously you are just as important, though the connection is still vague. “It’s not like she’s your daughter or something.”
His sire huffs, burying anger and sadness back under mystery where they belong, and shakes his head. “A witch and a vampire having a child? What a fantastical thought.” His tone has turned droll under the guise of heaviness. “That would be the stuff of Legend if it were true.”
Max snorts and sends him a small smirk. “As if you aren’t already a legend.”
“Am I?” That flash of mystery and amusement graces his features and Max’s sire sits back in his chair. “I had nearly forgotten.”
It’s not like he had bragged about it. Max had to learn of his sire’s exploits through the rumor mill that seems to power a college. Even a vamp one. He wasn’t one to boast or rest on his laurels apparently. Max hadn’t known how great the honor of him being his sire was until he was nearly graduated. And just now, he’s learning the reason why he had turned him. “Aren’t you?” Max asks, taking another sip of the warm blood. “Maybe not.”
“If you want to bait someone, Maxwell, go find Eddie and tell him flannel has gone out of fashion.” He chuckles at his own joke, taking the last sip of blood from his goblet. “Understand fully, though, before you leave me tonight. That Dolly is of the utmost importance. She is the only priority that matters.”
The weight of his words settle on Max and he bites his lip before he voices the concern. “Should I- would you prefer that I leave her alone?” He asks, unsure of why he would be giving such an obvious warning.
“If that was my wish, you would never have known she existed.” His sire tells him honestly. “You would not have be among those I deemed worthy of eternal life, and you certainly would not have been brought back after that stunt four years ago.” He shakes his head, wishing now for wine more than blood. Something to temper the emotional rollercoaster he has been on since you were finally located weeks ago. “You have been brought here for her, Maxwell. Endeavor to be worthy of that honour.”
“I don’t think she wants romantic entanglements.” Max admits. “She’s - skittish and I’m….” He trails off and shrugs. With his sire, it’s a lot easier to admit shortcomings. “Not.”
“But it is what you want?” Knowing Max as he does, it takes a great deal of willpower for his sire not to play on Max’s usual cocky side. This is too important for that anyway.
“I-“ Max stops, unsure of how to answer that. He wants you, but he also knows that you aren’t ready for something like that. It’s why he had spent so much time as the bat lately. “For her to be happy.” He decides. How that happiness looks is up to you. He’s already been selfish and he’s paid too high a price to chance it again.
“Good.” There may not have technically been a correct question to ask earlier, but there was certainly a correct answer to this one, and Max has hit on it. “You will tell her the truth soon. She’s made of stronger stuff than whatever she’s been through.”
It sounds like an order, but Max nods. “I hope you are right.” He tells the vampire who had turned him into what he is now. “Otherwise, we ruin the only safe place she has.”
“It is all the stronger for having us in it.” He reminds the younger vampire. “In the meantime, not a word to Eddie or anyone else. Only Mrs. Taylor knows I’ve arrived.”
His brow lifts again, but he doesn’t say a word about it. “Then back to the tower with you.”
______
Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie
VW: @haileymorelikestupid, @miraclesabound @nastiasnow @vabeachazn @oberynslady @grogusmum @kittenlittle24 @guelyury @8-900 @survivingandenduring
My Masterlist!
#Pedro Pascal#Pedro Pascal character fanfiction#Pedro Pascal fanfic#Max Phillips#Max Phillips x reader#Max Phillips x you#Max Phillips x female reader#Max Phillips x f!reader#Eddie BtVS#Bloodsucking Bastards#soulmate sunday#crossover fic#tw past abuse
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Satan: i accidently yelled at mc and they started tearing up and ended up crying while muttering "I'm sorry dad" All over again, it took me two and a half hour and an unimaginable guilt to comfort them
Lucifer: *listening to Satan while reading mc's document* where are they right now?
Satan: in their room sleeping
Lucifer: *putting mc's document* call the others we're going to kill a bastard- no an asshole
Satan: do you know where that thing (the bastard) live?
Lucifer: yes, don't waste anytime now call the others
Inspired and little bit copy by this
#obey me#obey me mc#obey me shall we date#obey me crack#obey me incorrect quotes#obey me angst#lucifer obey me#obey me sad#obey me satan#tw past trauma#tw past abuse
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eddie munson x plus size!reader
a little drabble about going on a road trip with eddie, steve & robin based on this ask i got yesterday
cw: past body image issues, implied past eating disorder
-----
"Please don't eat that," Steve blanches at the hot dog in your hands. "Those things are terrible for you."
"Don't judge my choice of food. This road trip just started and I didn't have breakfast," you huff and roll your eyes.
"I'm just looking out for you," Steve holds his hands up, backing out of your way so you can grab napkins and a few ketchup packets.
"I'll be fine, Steven. I've had worse things in my mouth."
Steve snorts out a laugh and crosses his arms. "Yeah, you've been with Munson for, what, a year now?"
"Rude," Eddie gasps, dramatically raising the heart shaped sunglasses he's wearing to the top of his head. He's loaded up with chips in one arm and a liter of soda in the other.
"Hey, babe. Any of that for me?"
"You can have whatever you like, sweetheart," Eddie says with a wink. He pushes around Steve to press a kiss to your cheek, making his way to the register.
"I'm just saying," Steve presses, following you following Eddie, "you don't know what kinda mystery meat is in that thing. Or how long it was on that roller for."
"Well good news for you, Steve," you smile at him, handing the dog to the cashier to get rung up. "You don't have to eat it."
Steve throws up his arms and walks out. He heads to where Robin's waiting for the three of you in the van, already done filling the tank.
"Don't let him bother you, baby," Eddie wraps his arm around you as you walk out together. His big bag of snacks and drinks are slung over his shoulder. Steve didn't bother you, and you tell Eddie as much.
"He's just looking out for me. He can't help it."
The sun is really beating down today, you can't wait to get back on the road with the windows down.
"I don't like him shaming you for what you eat," he whispers, the usual lightness in his voice replaced with concern. You feel Eddie bristle like a cat puffing his fur out. The posturing is cute but unnecessary.
"I'm fine, Eddie. And I appreciate you wanting to defend my honor, good sir," you smile and kiss his cheek and his hackles lower.
Eddie bows as he opens the van door for you and you laugh. He helps you climb in and kisses your hand before he lets you go.
"Get a move on, nerds!" Robin calls from the backseat. Eddie hands you the snacks and jogs around to the other side of the van.
You might've let Steve's comment bother you before, let his worry settle in your mind like an insult to your weight, your appetite. But you know better, you know Steve's worried about your health and keeling over from a tainted dog. He's not your mother, worrying over calories. He's your friend and a damn good one.
You pull out your hot dog and eat, finally, after a morning of packing and stressing that you'd forget something. Eddie smiles at you from the driver's seat, cranking up the tunes. Steve and Robin argue in the back but the open windows muffle them slightly and you settle. You're with friends, you're going to have a good summer, and you're not going to let anything stop you.
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x plus size!reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson drabble#eddie munson one shot#eddie munson headcanon#steve harrington#robin buckley#eddie munson fanfic#steve harrington fanfic#tw body insecurity#tw past abuse#tw past eating disorder#road trip fic#my fics
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Your F/O would take a “No” from you and promptly back off the second that word falls from your lips.
Your F/O would make sure to check with you and ask for your consent before even trying to speak on your behalf.
Your F/O would listen, not speak over you or trample over your words to get to their own point.
Your F/O would never try to weasel out a different response from you or wear you down until you buckle at their every whim.
After all, you are the one they adore.
They don’t want to mold you into the neighbour down the street, the flawless person you wish you could be, nor the character you think they should pick over you. Nothing — no amount of “merciful” lies, acts, or people-pleasing — will ever be as magnificent in their eyes as you simply existing. Even if you can’t see it, their love-stricken words and/or yearning gaze are only for you.
And when your “home” finally grows tired of slipping hatred under your door? Your F/O will rest beside you. Perhaps the others in your life have done the exact opposite of the four statements I made at the start, but your beloved wants you to know that they would silence the whole world just to make your voice heard.
Imagine your F/O gently yet sternly telling you that “Whatever you want” can’t always be your answer. While it might’ve been pleasing for others to hear, they’ll try their hardest to coax solid “Yes” or “No” answers from you, to get to know you as you are and never as what the others wanted you to be. You might not completely know yourself, but your F/O would never hesitate to look for your true colors beside you.
They want to familiarise themself with every thought and feeling that you are willing to share with them. Your F/O is simply honored that you want to sail the seven seas of your self-discovery with them. And when the fates inevitably send a storm your way? They’ll always be your anchor, your place to rest.
… Maybe the true home you were searching for is much closer than you previously thought.
#writing induced by sheer lack of self-preservation? more likely than you’d think jcjakncksknfkslm#I’m kinda surprised that people actually feel validated and comforted by these#but it was always the goal. so… thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy whatever else my brain can conjure in the future#imagine your comfort character#f/o x s/i#romantic f/o#familial f/o#queerplatonic f/o#platonic f/o#f/o imagines#imagine your f/o#f/o prompts#self shipping#just something about a caretaker trying to get you to unlearn behaviors that toxic people taught you 🥺🥹#people-pleaser selfshippers. got anything to say for yourselves?#tw past abuse#tw trauma#my writing
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Hurt & Comfort
Day 5 of @gingerpilotevents and probably one of my favorite tropes 😌
#gingerpilot#gingerpilotweek#gingerpilotweek2022#armitage hux#poe dameron#itssteffnow#my art#comic page#tw abuse#tw past abuse#general hux
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𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐬, 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬
❝ Reader x Kaeya, where the reader just had a horrible nightmare about a past (abusive) relationship and starts to doubt Kaeya's sincerity? ❞
; I'm sorry for the wait! I hope it was worth it- and I apologize for not responding earlier, but if you'd like, you can still be 🐯 anon :D
; 8/6/22
; Fluff/Comfort
; CW: mentions of past abuse, light language, physical touch
Kaeya liked to say he was one of a kind. Yet, you found yourself comparing him to another all too often.
He was unique; a swordsman with unparalleled skill, a knight in shining armor, a detective with his silver tongue, and he had the charm of a prince when it came to wooing the ladies and gentleman. Yet, when you looked at him, there were just too many similarities for you to sleep well at night. The way he raised his hand to say hello made you inwardly cringe and tense up, the insults and lies he’d spit into the faces of his enemies brought you back to a time when those words were aimed at you, even the way he hugged you felt distant and cold, just like that person’s did. But because you loved him and you genuinely knew he loved you, you pushed those memories aside and faced him with a warm smile- maybe that was a bad idea.
Trauma is like water. It form fits within your brain into the darkest of crevices and hides there until your walls start to crumble, and your thoughts start to fill with something that helps you feel okay. Then, those walls crack and create holes that let the water leak through and it drips, drips, drips in the form of salty tears from your eyes to the tiled floor. Even in the safe hold of his arms as he hums an old Khaenri’an lullaby to you, you start seeing flashbacks of hands that didn’t belong to him and words he’d never say to you. But within the clutches of sleep, you couldn’t control the terrors that beheld you. Their face mocked you, a voice that you wished you’d forget seemed to surround you, and it felt like you were chained in place despite there being nothing there. Everything seemed to ridicule you-- despite being free, technically, you were trapped. There was nothing holding you to that floor, you could just walk away, but you couldn’t.
Then, as if it couldn’t get worse, their face started to look a lot like his. Eyes filled with hatred were slowly covered by one covered eye and one revealed, that eye swirling with just as much disgust and fury as before. Thin lips curled further into a sickening scowl, and the hands thrown up in the air and just threatening to strike you had spiked gloves covering his fingers. The very sight made you want to throw up, watching as your lover made a fool and victim of you just as they did, and you could do nothing but cry and scream until the feeling of uncomfortably hot bedsheets and cold sweat brought you back to reality.
“Woah, woah, angel,” Kaeya strode over with concern written all over his face. “-What happened?” You wanted to laugh, the fresh memory of his crazed and infuriated expression being such a stark contrast to the sweet worry in his eyes. Eyes, plural, that’s right- he now trusted you enough to take off the eyepatch that protected what little of his home he still had with him. Glittering stars swirled within his right eye and a scar ran from his forehead, over his eye, to his cheek- you inwardly smiled at the memory of him crying in your arms as you kissed the scar with gentle reassurances and tender touches. Yeah, that’s your Kaeya, you wanted to reassure yourself. But for now, still caught up in the terrors of sleep, you scooted backwards away from him with a shout.
“NO!” You cried out, pulling the blanket closer to you and he flinched at the sudden volume. First, he looked around to see what scared you. Then, realization and hurt slowly dawning on his face, he realized it was him. “I-” Your eyes widened and you bite your tongue before simply facing away from him. “Please…leave me alone for a bit, Kaeya.” His shoulders sunk and he nodded in thought. Part of him wanted to walk away, afraid of scaring you further and some deep, sick part of him believed you should be afraid of him. A man born of sins and lies could only bring no good.
But he swallowed his insecurities and slowly walked around to the other side of the bed, facing you with a warm smile. He knelt down, now cross-legged on the floor staring up at you. He closed his eyes and put his hands up on the bed, gripping the edge. You sat confused for a moment, but he simply waited, and waited, and nothing happened. “What…”
“I can’t see you.” Kaeya stated matter-of-factly, and you gave him a ‘duh’ look. “But I trust you. You could hit me right now, you could curse at me, you could even grab my dagger and pierce it through the heart I want you to have, but I’d let you because I trust you.” He slid his left hand across the bed until it found yours, and then he hesitantly linked his pinky with yours, loose enough that you could break free if you wanted. “I know it’s hard to trust me,” He laughed dryly. “Hell, I don’t trust me. But I’m learning, and I want you to learn with me.” Kaeya’s eyes slowly opened, and your heart cracked a bit at the sight of watery mist clouding the surface. “Trust me when I say I know what it’s like to get a knife driven through your back. It’s nothing compared to what you went through, I know, but I’m going to do my damnedest to make sure that never happens again.”
Your eyes welled up with more tears, and you brought his hand up to your face, and you leaned your head into his hand when he cupped your cheek. The tender touch of his thumb brushing away your tears only brought more to the surface, and you openly cried into his palm. “‘M sorry, I don’t mean to keep doubting you- you I just- ‘m sorry-” He stood up now, and opened his arms to invite you into his loving embrace.
His nightshirt felt soft against your wetted cheeks, and he smelt of your favorite perfume and morning frost; you couldn’t help but nuzzle into his chest in search of comfort. “Now, now, don’t apologize, you’re healing.” Kaeya hummed softly, rocking you in his arms. “And that’s all I could ever hope for. I don’t blame you for doubting me sometimes, just know you can trust me as I trust you, okay? Healing takes time, but we have time.” He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead while lightly shushing your hiccuped cries and sobs, and his free hand traced soothing circles along your back. “I’m so proud of you, dearest (F/n), thank you for giving me a chance.” A sincere smile danced along his lips, and you smiled along with him- even despite the uncomfortable way your leg bent behind you and the crane of your neck to face him properly, you couldn’t help but smile.
He raised his right hand dramatically, just like he did on the day of being sworn into the Knights. “I promise in the name of the archons and every star in the sky, I’ll love you as everybody else should’ve and more, until my last breath.”
You hugged him tighter, the sound of his heartbeat lulling you into a sleepy trance. “You…absolute sap…” He laughed at this, patting your back.
“Only for you, my dear. Only for you.”
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚✧˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ
Word Count: 1253
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚✧˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ
- Ky♡♡
𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧; 𝗳𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺 𝗼𝗿 𝘀𝗲𝗻𝗱 𝗮𝗻 𝗮𝘀𝗸 𝘁𝗼 𝗷𝗼𝗶𝗻!
bold cannot be tagged
@storytravelled ; @irethepotato ; @euphoric-author ; @lordbugs ; @straymoon96 ; @hoshikistarlette ; @lianglee11 ; @sup-zfam ; @myaaki ; @roriver ; @rizakari ; @httpshaolvr ; @leena-shii ; @kaerui-kaisen ; @akaiyuki ; @marigold-petals ; @frenchtoaf ; @nejibot ; @fijispritee ; @kissventii ; @ethereal-moonglow
#kywrites#kaeya x gender neutral reader#kaeya x you#kaeya headcanons#kaeya imagines#kaeya fluff#kaeya angst#kaeya comfort#kaeya x gn reader#kaeya x reader#genshin comfort#genshin imagines#genshin scenarios#genshin hcs#genshin fluff#genshin angst#genshin x reader#genshin kaeya#genshin impact#tw past abuse
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“i do not recall the taste of love. i remember being fed poison and told it was sugar.”
— sulasnsleep
#tw self destruction#tw abuse#tw child trauma#tw child harm#tw childhood abuse#tw childhood trauma#tw childhood neglect#tw neglect#self writings#self written#self written quotes#tw past trauma#tw past abuse#past abuse#past trauma#tw manipulation#manipulation#manipulative#depressing quotes#sorry for being depressing#depresjon#kinda depressing#depressing poem#tw depressing stuff#tw depressing thoughts#this is depressing#depressiv#depressing shit#depresión#depressing life
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first official day of napowrimo!!! april 1st prompt is: poem that recounts the plot of a novel you haven't read in a while. (warning for themes of war, bombing, & past abuse)
overnight in a bomb shelter
if the world ends this week
please brush my hair
i won’t ask you to be gentle
let me walk barefoot
farther away than the eye can see
in weather cold or warm
i may bite you
sting and curse you
don’t come too close
feed me and bathe me
that’s all i ask
but bombs scream overhead
planes shriek with their engines
sirens blare from the streets
in a murky shelter
buried beneath the mud
of your childhood home
your calloused hands are soft
dropping a blanket ‘round my shoulders
reading a book in the dark
my ears ring and my hands shake
you shield me with your palms
you promise to teach me to sew
to read and write
to run and climb
in moments in the dark
where the world might end
where all i smell is mold
you treat me like a child
who has never known love
i treat you like a woman
who has never known love
and for a moment
the world feels right
as the bombs scream overhead
‘cause the world might end tonight
#napowrimo#napowrimo 2024#blue’s writing#poetry#poem#tw war mention#tw bomb mention#tw past abuse#just for tw warnings <3#the book this is based off is 'the war that saved my life' by kimberly bradley :]#first introduction to found family trope that i like. actually processed was found family#hence the 'child woman' not 'daughter mother'#<333 oh man ada and susan <3#i love this book sm i needed to write about it#highly rec u read it. rlly good and complex#also ada is disabled and still living her life fuck yeah. god i love ada sm. just like me fr#also yes im posting this 3 am on april 1st. early bird gets the worm or whatever
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[It's a picture documenting two instances of an event. Read?]
[The first instance shows a documentation of LG, assigned male at birth. October 31st, 2005, LG♂️ was documented to have been taken for a ritual. The procedure went wrong, resulting not in a figure that could call upon the powers of life at will, but a deemed unholy fusion of person and pokemon by the parents.]
[The second instance described LG, assigned female at birth. LG♀️ was documented to have undergone the same ritual, October 31st, 2013, with a minor variation. The results, successful. At command of her parents, LG♀️ could actively put more life into them.]
#pokeblogging#pokemon irl#irl pkmn#irl pokemon#pkmn irl#rotomblr#pokeblog rp#xerneas in headlights#tw past abuse
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How Do You Live Like This?
Summary:
"Someone had better be dead or dying for whoever this is to be calling me this damn early," Dabi growls into the phone that he finally picks up during the third round of trying to vibrate off his crappy nightstand.
He didn't even bother to check the caller ID. Everything hurt and was too much and he just wanted whoever it was to fuck off as soon as possible so he could sleep off what had to be a killer hangover.
…did he even drink last night? Withdrawals maybe? It had been a while since he got ahold of any pain pills.
{I- Early? Dabi, it’s three in the afternoon!}
“Well, I’m not trying to catch any worms birdie, so if you’d fuck off-”
{Yeahhh, about that, I’m kind of surprised your not.}
“Why the fuck would I? Just spit it out, birdie. My back is killing me and my head feels like it's going to explode.” Dabi snips, sinking into the shitty mattress with a curse. Fuck, he couldn’t wait for them to move into the mansion. “Did you drug me or something?”
Hawks scoffs. {Just look behind you, asshole. Your stubborn ass won’t believe me otherwise.}
Ao3 Tags:
Quirk Swap (My Hero Academia), Quirk Shenanigans (My Hero Academia), Quirk Accident (My Hero Academia), Wing Grooming, League of Villains as Family (My Hero Academia), Takami Keigo | Hawks Acts Like a Bird, Dabi | Todoroki Touya Acts Like A Bird, Dabi | Todoroki Touya Has a Big Dick, Anal Sex, Mating Bites, Banter, Past Dabi | Todoroki Touya/Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko, past trauma, Hero Public Safety Commission's Bad Parenting (My Hero Academia), Getting Together, Dirty Talk, Dabi | Todoroki Touya Has Genital Piercings
Notes:
Day 1 of DabiHawks Week 2023!
Theme: Quirk Switch
NSFW Prompt: First Time
"Someone had better be dead or dying for whoever this is to be calling me this damn early," Dabi growls into the phone that he finally picks up during the third round of trying to vibrate off his crappy nightstand.
He didn't even bother to check the caller ID. Everything hurt and was too much and he just wanted whoever it was to fuck off as soon as possible so he could sleep off what had to be a killer hangover.
…did he even drink last night? Withdrawals maybe? It had been a while since he got ahold of any pain pills.
{I- Early? Dabi, it’s three in the afternoon!} Hawks scoffs through the line.
“Well, I’m not trying to catch any worms birdie, so if you’d fuck off-”
{Yeahhh, about that, I’m kind of surprised your not.} Hawks cuts him off with that tone that means he’s dancing around something.
“Why the fuck would I? Just spit it out, birdie. My back is killing me and my head feels like it's going to explode.” Dabi snips, sinking into the shitty mattress with a curse. Fuck, he couldn’t wait for them to move into the mansion. “Did you drug me or something?”
Hawks scoffs again and Dabi thought for sure that one would have gotten an offended squawk. {Just look behind you, asshole. Your stubborn ass won’t believe me otherwise.}
Dabi pulls the phone away from his ear to glare at it, but he’s too exhausted to really argue so just does as he’s told only to let out a decidedly not human screech. “What the fuck, birdie?!”
{I think I should be saying that to you actually, Hot Stuff…Wait, that doesn’t work now either.}
Dabi can’t even argue. Not only is he too stunned, but there are also giant fucking wings coming out of his back and the noise he just made was definitely more avian than human. Forcing himself out of bed to look in the mirror reveals more changes of much more bird-like feet that confirmed multiple of Dabi’s suspicions and talons that he has no clue how he didn’t notice them earlier, but he would need to be careful with or risk tearing open a seam. Opening his mouth reveals teeth made for tearing flesh and looking at his hair, he can see soft white feathers standing out against the dyed black.
Speaking of seeing, he notices his pupils pin every time a staple catches the light and that’s going to be annoying as hell. Turning around reveals admittedly beautiful white wings and white tail feathers sticking out of his low-hanging sweats.
He looked like a fallen angel honestly.
{Dabs? Daaabs? DABI!} Hawks calls from the abandoned phone, snapping Dabi back to the present.
He didn’t even have it on speaker so he guesses bird senses must be part of the deal. Or the feathers. They are amplifying damn near everything.
“Yeah, I’m here.” Dabi huffs as he sits back down on the bed, careful of his new tail feathers. “Wanna explain why you’re missing over half of this or do I get to assume the Commission hasn’t changed?”
{I’d really rather not, but I’m also afraid to know what you mean by that so can we put a pin in that? You have a fire quirk. Why are you fucking freezing and how do I stop almost lighting things on fire when I sneeze or feel anything ? Seriously, how the fuck do you live like this?} Hawks groans, cursing when he probably does exactly what he just said based on the sounds of a fire extinguisher.
“Surgical staples, spite, and dissociation.” Dabi shrugs despite Hawks not being able to see him. “These things detach right? How the hell do I do that? My back is killing me.”
{Uhh…give me a second, it’s kind of second nature at this point.} Hawks hums, thinking to himself. {I was trained to focus on individual feathers, but I assume you want as much weight as possible?}
“Definitely. I ran out of painkillers a few weeks ago.” Dabi groans, trying to do it through willpower alone like with everything else in life, and letting out a surprised chirp when they sharpen instead. “Wrong way!”
{Made them knives?} Hawks asks sympathetically.
“Yup.” Dabi sighs, wincing when he can both hear and feel someone—probably Toga—bounding up the stairs. “How do you not just have full-on meltdowns like constantly? I can feel Toga running up the stairs.”
{I am missing feathers and fangs.} Hawks deadpans. {You think I was allowed to have sensory overload?}
Dabi glares into the distance, imagining the Commission President. He still had a bone to pick with them for Endeavor’s continued success, but the list of reasons was slowly growing the more information he dug up about Hawks. “Fair enough…what color are your flames?”
{Orange-ish. A few blue sparks in there when I was panicking earlier.}
“Good. Try to stay calm then. I was never taught how to turn down the heat so it will only get worse if they get hotter.” Dabi sighs in relief. “Indifference is your friend.”
{Great. Super. So, we’re both fucked up, huh?} Hawks sighs in misery.
“Pretty mu-Fuck!” Dabi’s eyes widen in horror as he realizes something. “You have my quirk!”
{Uhhh, yeah, we established that a while ago. You good, birdie? Mmm, yeah, no, hate that.} Hawks audibly grimaces.
Dabi scrunches his face in an equal level of disgust. “Yeah, never do that again. Anyway, you have my quirk. The thing that keeps me alive as much as it kills me.”
{What do you mean by that?}
“I’m a walking cadaver of open wounds living in dirty abandoned buildings, Hawks. What’s something that fights infection?” He’s still got the whole cryptic vibe to maintain, sue him.
{A fever! Oh my god, are you telling me you just constantly have a fever?! No wonder you’re such an asshole!} Hawks jabs, but the panic is clear in his voice.
“It’s either that or dying of sepsis or something.” Dabi shrugs, glaring at the door when Toga starts pounding on it. “Oh my god, I’m gonna kill them.”
“DABIIIII!” Toga screeches. “Get up! Shiggy wants us for a meeting!”
Dabi’s eyes widen in horror at the realization he’ll have to interact with them looking like this. “Shit, Hawks. What about our jobs?”
{I already called in for a quirk accident so they have someone covering my shift. Luckily, fire quirks are common enough and it's not blue so I can play dumb. You on the other hand, I have no clue, but we need to meet soon so I can at least make sure you don’t die.} Hawks explains, a door opening in the background before he curses. {Dammit, I have to call an Uber or something. Give me back my ride, man!}
Dabi can’t help but snort as the hero complains about having to travel like a civilian. “Yeah, I’ll get right on that. Any chance you’d be willing to borrow or kidnap the girl Eraser adopted to patch me up while we hunt down who did this?”
{I think I’d rather take my chances with you on Trigger.} Hawks scoffs, doors opening and closing as he goes. {I’ll check the database though for someone else while I’m looking for someone with a quirk swapping quirk. At least, you switched with a hero, right?}
Dabi hates that he’s almost grateful for the fact. “Just hurry up. I’ll talk to Shiggs and send you a meeting point later- Bang on the door again! See what happens!”
He hears Hawks laughing through the phone as Toga whines. “I didn’t even move yet!”
“Unless it’s to turn around, keep it that way!” Dabi yells, going back to the snickering hero. “I gotta go down. Text you later.”
{Good luck!} Hawks’ smirk is audible as Dabi hangs up, sighing as he trudges to the door.
“There was a quirk accident last night, Toga. I need you to promise to be chill before I open the door.” Dabi decides as he braces himself for the inevitable shit show. “Like infiltration levels. My senses are a bit hey wire right now.”
He officially hates being able to hear the girl’s heartbeat fast in panic.
“Are you okay?” She asks a lot quieter now.
“Technically.” He shrugs as he opens the door and she gasps. “Though we’ll need to find a healing quirk soon since my fire was what was fighting infection.”
Toga’s eyes widen the more she takes him in before she slaps her hands over her mouth to squeal. “You look so pretty!”
Dabi winces, the volume still too loud. “Can’t say I hate the look. They’re heavy as shit though, and I don’t know how to drop them.”
Toga nods sympathetically, tapping her chin. “If you give me some blood, I could try figuring it out?”
Dabi is almost tempted but shakes his head. “Since it’s the result of another quirk, probably not. Can you run and tell the others to can it though?”
Toga grins, nodding as she runs off to give Dabi some time to collect himself. He can hear her screeching about it from here and just hopes she can shut them up before he joins them.
Thankfully, it’s Spinner who has everyone in line by the time Dabi makes it down, and shoots Shigaraki a glare when he opens his mouth a little too wide for the lizard man’s liking.
Dabi nods his head in thanks, the most he’s willing to show of actual gratitude as he tries to figure out sitting on the sofa. In the end, he just ends up joined by Twice and Compress so he can perch on the back, eyes narrowed in warning.
“The eyes are fucking weird.” Shigaraki rasps from where he sits next to Spinner, and Dabi assumes his pupils must have pinned.
“So is being able to see every flake of your eczema. Can’t say I’m a fan.” Dabi huffs, tilting his head in confusion when it comes out more avian sounding. “What the-?”
“Good thing I don’t have any jobs for you for a while then.” Shigaraki shrugs, fidgeting with his new gloves and noticing how Dabi’s eyes follow the shine of the button. “How the hell did you manage to look in the mirror?”
“I was a bit busy panicking.” Dabi shrugs. “Now what did you need us for? I need to meet someone to get this fixed.”
“Just bring Hawks here. We’re leaving this base soon anyway and neither of you are of any use with quirks you can’t use.” Shigaraki decides with a wave of his hand. “I’m guessing that’s who you switched with anyway?”
“Yeah, birdbrain called me in a panic ‘cause he sneezed and lit something on fire.” Dabi huffs with a roll of his eyes. “How the lack of back pain didn’t cue him in, I don’t know, but notes need exchanging and he needs to bring me a healer before I start festering.”
Shigaraki scrunches his face at the thought. “Gross. Give him the address. Until then, your new roles in the new Paranormal Liberation Front.”
“Nerd.” Dabi can’t help but smirk, accidentally shredding the pillow thrown at him and blinking at his talons in a mix of horror and wonder. “What the fuck?”
“Anyway!”
By the time they’re updated on their new roles and the structure of the new organization, Hawks is texting Dabi to let him know he’s on his way.
Pretty Bird: [No clue how long since I’m not used to the whole walking thing.]
Hot Stuff: [GPS, birdbrain.]
Pretty Bird: [Oh yeah.]
Pretty Bird: [23min]
Dabi rolls his eyes as he pockets his phone, heading to the kitchen for breakfast since they already have access to Liberation money. He’s mildly horrified to find himself staring at one of Toga’s bloody steaks but just chalks it up to bird shit.
“Oi! Blondie! I’m grabbing one of these!” He calls out as he uses his new talons to rip one open and starts salivating at the scent. “Shit, no wonder Hawks is so skinny.”
“You’ll want to heat it up a bit.” Toga hums as she snatches it on the way to the microwave. “It’ll be more like fresh prey that way.”
Dabi squawks in outrage at his food being taken, but has to admit that it sounds far more appealing. “Think this is one of the things the Commission deprived him of?”
“Probably.” Toga scowls, still pouting about not being able to stab Commission members after they all came to the same conclusion about the extra feathers and bird feet. “I hope we can get Hawksy out of there soon.”
“Definitely ready to kidnap him at this point.” Dabi chitters angrily, perking back up when the microwave goes off and his eyes zero in on the warm meat, brain practically singing about fresh prey. He wastes no time tearing into it when it’s set down in front of him. “Fuck, that’s good. Hand me a peace of the leftover fried chicken. I wanna test how hot my fire needs to be when I set fire to the Commission later.”
Toga giggles, happily helping Dabi test all the little things the Commission more than likely tortured out of the birdie. They’re both horrified when Dabi gags at the taste of cooked meat, and almost throws up completely when he tries to swallow it.
“What the fuck? Hawks eats this shit by the bucket!” Dabi scoffs as he gargles water in the sink, grateful Twice had somehow gotten it working.
“It’s either that or starve.” The hero surprises them both by suddenly speaking. “The public wouldn’t like their number two eating raw meat or catching small prey on patrol. I’d be kicked so far down the rankings, no one would even notice the Commission disposing of their failed soldier.” Numb gold eyes lock with for once lively turquoise. “I’m sure you know a bit about that.” He hums, tapping a folder in his arms so only Dabi can see a long-forgotten name etched onto the tab.
“How did you-” Dabi winces when Toga yelps and he realizes his feathers had sharpened with his fear.
“I had some extra motivation since I’m currently stuck with your quirk. You’re a lot easier to find when I’m the one holding the quirk.” Hawks shrugs and Dabi hates how soulless his eyes look. “Don’t worry though. I grabbed every file I could find on you and a few other flame users and we can burn them the second this is fixed.”
“Hawks? Are you okay?” Toga ends up being the one brave enough to ask.
Hawks at least manages a small smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Dabi’s quirk seems to be attached to his emotions. I was trained to withstand torture. Turning mine off for a bit is nothing.”
Dabi really hates that. There’s a reason he chose to focus on spite and anger. Turning everything off completely left him without even a will to live.
“Find a healer then?” Dabi asks instead of voicing any of this as he goes back to inhaling the raw meat he abandoned on the table. “Or preferably the dumbass responsible.”
Empty eyes trail back to him and Dabi really wishes Hawks was wearing that stupid visor so he could at least pretend the light reflecting off of it was in Hawks’ eyes.
“Yeah. A little girl a few blocks from here actually. Quirk: Phoenix.” Hawks shrugs as he tucks the folders back into his coat, and pulls out another one. “Figured it’d be easier to get a kid to go along with it, and even if she told someone, you look so different right now, they’d assume she was playing make-believe or something.”
Dabi frowns, not liking bringing a kid into this. “I was joking about the other little girl, you know?”
“And I’m not. It’s a good cover, and most kids love heroes so it shouldn’t be too hard to get her to try.” Hawks hums as he flips through the paper. “As for the culprit. I’m guessing it was the goon I through in jail yesterday so let’s hope she can heal your scars enough for you to join me for a visitation other wise a prison break is in order.”
The frown deepens. “Uh, the scars are kind of part of my big revenge scheme. Kinda need them in place.”
“Well, how else do we fix this then?” Hawks asks, raising a fluffy eyebrow in annoyance.
“Can’t you go in there and asks? Say it’s for an investigation?” Dabi sighs, trilling in delight when he finds he can actually crunch through the bone of the steak.
Hawks blinks, both at the sound and for having not considered that. “I kind of got stuck on the whole infection part, I didn’t even think of that.”
Dabi snorts, carefully licking the blood from his fingers as he finishes the steak. “I appreciate the concern, but it’d be a better move to just steal the welding kid from 1-B. I had already been on the street for months by the time I figured out the fever trick. I’ll be fine for a few days.”
“Can’t you go in there and ask? Say it’s for an investigation?” Dabi sighs, trilling in delight when he finds he can actually crunch through the bone of the steak.
Hawks blinks, both at the sound and for having not considered that. “I kind of got stuck on the whole infection part, I didn’t even think of that.”
Dabi snorts, carefully licking the blood from his fingers as he finishes the steak. “I appreciate the concern, but it’d be a better move to just steal the welding kid from 1-B since I just need the seams closed. I had already been on the street for months by the time I figured out the fever trick. I’ll be fine for a few days. The urgency was really just to get you moving before you could spiral.”
Hawks huffs, muttering about not spiraling even if he knew it was true. "So, what? I waltz into the prison, demand to speak to the guy, and come back here with hopeful answers?"
"Yup. Put that hero status to use for once." Dabi smirks as he tosses the meat package into the trash.
"You mean besides the actual hero part?" Hawks scoffs, emotion actually leaking into his voice now much to the villains' relief.
"Besides the child soldier part, yeah." Dabi hums in challenge, feeling the feathers on his head raise with it.
The action is apparently enough to startle Hawks whose eyes flick between the crest feathers and Toga in panic before switching to confusion when she seems unphased.
Dabi, of course, notices and scoffs, more feathers ruffling. "You really think anyone here is going to judge? We have a whole-ass lizard man who probably saved everyone's ass earlier by keeping them quiet. Toga just taught me heating up the meat satisfies the predator brain. Seriously, Hawks?"
Dabi knows the hero's wings would be slumping if he had them based on his posture.
"You already pieced together half my childhood when you woke up. You of all people should know that shit doesn't just go away." Hawks huffs, hands twitching like he wants to pull his wings around him.
He does know this. He knows it all too well. All it does, however, is just redirect his anger as he makes an angry chittering noise.
"Go find the fix so I can burn that shit hole to the ground." Dabi trills evenly despite his pupils being all but nonexistent in his rage.
Hawks looks multiple levels of conflicted, but finally just sighs. "You think I'm their only passion project?"
Both villains bare their teeth in outrage now and Dabi finally manages to detach some feathers that stick themselves into the walls.
"Ah, perfect." Dabi grins manically, pulling one out of the counter. "You go get the information. I'll go use their precious wings against them."
"Absolutely not." Hawks scoffs, stomping over to snatch the feather. "You are untrained and I haven't finished getting you the information on their quirks yet. Do you want to get trapped in a traumatic event for the rest of your life? How about having your skin turned inside out? Just stay put and let me fix this."
"But-"
Hawks just raises an unimpressed eyebrow, some fire finally back in his eyes as he sighs. "Sorry about this."
That’s the only warning Dabi gets before the feather is set on fire and he falls to the ground screaming in pain. "What the-"
He's cut off once more by the rest of the detached feathers being collected and setting them ablaze at the same time almost makes the villain pass out as the steak tries to come back up. "Sto-"
One last feather is plucked from his head to receive the same treatment and his vision swims as the small size somehow makes it worse. "Hawks-"
He finally registers Toga yelling at the hero to stop but looking up just fills his vision with cold, emotionless gold eyes.
"They'll do far worse." Hawks states simply. "Stay put."
Dabi's not sure he's felt pain that intense since he almost burned to death, and somehow the weird psychic disconnect made it so much worse as he gags trying to swallow the food threatening to come up. He absolutely hates doing it, but he nods in defeat. "Yeah…gotcha…"
"Yo! Hawks! What's all the screa- What did you do to Dabi, you ass?! " Twice suddenly yells, having come to investigate and Dabi feels his head swim again as he realizes the others had been whispering.
"Made sure he didn't do something stupid." Hawks shrugs as he stands back up. "Make sure he doesn't leave the base."
"Sure thing. Why would I listen to you?! " Twice scoffs, wincing when Dabi sits back enough to hold his head with a groan. "Sorry. Suck it up! " Both of these are thankfully whispered.
Hawks tilts his head, still getting used to deciphering which voice to listen to before deciding to answer both. "Thanks. His pride will probably get him killed otherwise."
Twice nods as he rushes over to try to help Dabi up, the currently feathered villain having trouble navigating the extra weight on his back and Toga being just a tad too small to really help and too busy smacking Hawks on the shoulder anyway. "Want a hand?" He asks quietly, managing to silence the other voice even if it gives him a pretty bad tic doing so.
Normally, Dabi would tell him to fuck off, but the room hasn't fully stopped spinning so he takes it. "Yeah…get me in a stool, would ya?"
Twice, thankfully, manages to not insult him on the way up, though letting the other villain touch between his wings for leverage created a whole new problem that he resolutely chooses to ignore as he mumbles a thanks and slumps his head on the counter. He's relieved to find a new bottle of pain meds waiting for him when he opens his eyes. "Thanks, birdie."
"Sorry again. It's hard to explain without experiencing it, and I knew your stubborn ass wouldn't listen otherwise." Hawks sighs, sounding genuinely apologetic as he also sets down a glass of water and hands Dabi the files.
"You let me burn through feathers like they are kindling and I burn way hotter." Dabi decides to focus on instead. "What the fuck, birdie?"
Hawks has the audacity to just shrug, looking at the ground as he scratches the back of his head as though saying something embarrassing instead of horrifying. "I was trained to withstand actual torture. Your fire is like a bad sunburn."
Looking up reveals three villains looking at him in a mixture of horror and rage, though he can tell the rage isn't directed at him.
"Fuck the pain, I'm going anyway- Don't touch me!" Dabi squawks and pushes Twice between them when Hawks just looks at him unimpressed and reaches for a feather.
"That's what I thought." Hawks sighs starting to lower his hand before Dabi suddenly grabs it and makes him yelp. "What are you-"
"It just clicked what you said." Dabi hums, glaring at the blisters on Hawks' hand. "If you have my quirk, you're not fireproof. Barely fire resistant on most of your body."
Hawks hears Toga and Twice gasp when Dabi moves his sleeve up to reveal slightly worse burns but he's too busy trying to keep his panic down about them seeing a weakness so he doesn't make it worse by getting worked up and catching fire. "It's fi-"
"Twice, can you get the burn stuff?" Dabi cuts him off without looking away from the wounds. "The arm shouldn’t scar too badly, but you definitely don't want it on your hands."
"Really, I'm-" Twice has already run off though so Hawks just sighs. "Seriously, how do you live like this?"
"It's mostly spite." Dabi shrugs, taking Hawks' other hand to check it before he gets distracted by the shine of his rings. "How do you get anything done?"
"Intense training and a lot of 'Number Two Hero Distracted By Shiny Objects' compilations on WeTube." Hawks shrugs, taking his hand back once it's been deemed acceptable.
Dabi snorts, shaking his head as he takes the box brought in by Twice. "How many include you flying into buildings?"
"At least one per video." Hawks manages to smirk before hissing as Dabi starts treating his wounds. "Watch it, Hot Stuff. I still have modeling gigs while I get switched over."
"Should have thought about that before you tried to not treat it." Dabi huffs, wrapping a nonstick bandage a little tight just to make the hero whine before fixing it and continuing like normal. "The Frankenstein's monster spot has already been filled."
It's Hawks' turn to snort now as he pulls his sleeve back down and picks up the culprit's file. "Fair enough. I'll go try to get this fixed then."
"You sure we can't go stab the Commission while you're gone?" Toga pouts.
Hawks hums, eyes drifting from worried gold to trying to feign apathetic turquoise and down to a thick file. "Tell you what, you stay put and don't do anything stupid, and I won't take your target from you."
Turquoise eyes narrow and there's another angry chitter. "You wouldn't fucking dare!"
"After what I just read? Patrol is going to be really fucking tense when I get back." Hawks glares though it's not directed at Dabi. "Let me know next time you want to test a Nomu and we can arrange an actually deserted area."
This makes Dabi blink in shock but nod. "Deal." He decides, finally turning to take the pain meds as letting the wings hang starts taking its toll. "Now scram. These things are heavy."
Hawks just snickers, motioning for Toga to hand over her phone so he can bring up a tutorial. "If you can stop being a prickly asshole for a little bit, these two can help with that."
The two villains light up at the opportunity to help who they consider their friend and Dabi groans, knowing they'll badger him until he agrees. "Dammit, birdie. Fine, just get this fixed."
A smirk tugs at Hawks' mouth but he manages to keep it hidden as he once again schools his emotions back into numbness. "Have fun. I'll be back."
"Leave that zombie shit at the door next time!" Dabi calls after the retreating hero. "It's fucking weird!"
"Like I have a choice." Hawks snorts, having not meant to let go of it just now. Dabi really was a master at ruffling his feathers, even when he didn't have them.
~~~
Hawks has to fight himself not to squirm as he sits on the interrogator's side of the table. He can't see behind him but something on his back itches like hell and it's only gotten worse since leaving the base.
"Dammit, come on." He mutters, looking to the door once more. "How long does it take to grab a criminal?"
Hawks officially hates not having his wings when the door opening makes him jump.
"Sorry about that, Hawks. He slipped out of the quirk suppressant cuffs so we had to fight him into a tighter pair and get the fix." A tired-sounding officer explains. "I assume that's why you're here?"
Hawks forces on one of his camera-ready smiles though it doesn't reach his eyes as he continues to dissociate to keep the fire calm. "Yeah, would kinda like to get back out in the field, ya know?"
"Oh, I'm sure." The cop sighs, dragging a smug-looking goon into the room with him. "Good luck with the HR paperwork if it was a coworker."
Hawks frowns in confusion before looking at the villain-wanna-be as he's forced to sit across from him. "What does he mean?"
"Oh, he's just being dramatic." The guy snickers and god is that voice grating. "It wears off after two weeks, but if you're that impatient to go back to being a pretty bird-"
"Don't call me that." Hawks sneers, the nickname being reserved for a certain flame villain and he doesn't want it soiled by this guy's annoying voice.
The guy rolls his eyes but the annoying grin doesn’t leave. "Please, your type thrives on attention. Anyway, if you're that impatient, getting to know the person who you traded quirks with will speed it up."
Hawks frowns, something suddenly clicking as he takes his phone out and pulls his shirt collars back to take a picture down his shirt. He can't help but grin as he sees feathers starting to peak out. Must have been from skimming Dabi's file. "That's not so bad. Why would that warrant an HR complaint?"
He doesn't like the grin on the guy's face.
"Getting to know them intimately in any way will speed it up. The more intimate, the better." The guy leers.
Hawks blinks, not understanding for a second until he looks at the officers and sees his ears flushed red and realizes that what he thought was a scratch is actually smeared lipstick.
Oh .
Hawks feels his face heat up and curses when his face starts actually smoking. "No wonder it took a while to get you back here."
"We won't be making the mistake again." The officer huffs, glaring daggers at the goon in the chair.
"Just tryna help people understand each other better." The guy shrugs with a grin. "Wouldn't the world be so much better if we did?"
"That definitely isn't the way to go about it." Hawks grimaces. "Anything else?"
Another shrugs as the guy leans back in his seat. "Nah, it's pretty straightforward. A smooch should have you back to all your feathered glory in no time though mutant-type quirks take a bit longer and might leave a characteristic or a biology thing behind."
Hawks nods, standing to leave now. "Hopefully just the kiss will work." Dabi and he had moved on to being a bit softer with each other weeks ago, but Hawks was really hoping their first kiss let alone anything else would be a bit more special. "I'll put in a word with the judge for some therapy."
"I don't need-"
Hawks doesn't give him a chance to respond as he wishes the officer farewell and is out the door before he can even argue.
"Dammit." Hawks groans, choosing to make his way back to the base to talk face-to-face rather than over the phone. He needed to think.
~~~
Dabi, meanwhile, is in the process of becoming part of the couch, cooing and chirping as Toga and Twice have fun preening his new wings. The ones close to his back and his tail feathers had quickly been marked off limits but everywhere else had him boneless.
"Those are still good noises, right?" Toga checks in, still nervous after Twice had ticked and hurt a feather in a way that made Dabi scream.
Dabi made a happy trilling noise before remembering Toga can't understand and nodding. "Doing great." He mumbles before a feather twitches and he sighs. "Shiggy, I can feel you hovering." He senses Shigaraki jump at suddenly being acknowledged before the leader starts muttering. "Can't hear through them."
Shigaraki groans before speaking up. "Are they soft?"
He fans his wings out to silence the two already preening before lifting his head to look at the other villain. "Do you have your gloves?"
Shigaraki's eyes widen at the implications but he nods quickly, pulling them on. "Are you sure?"
"You can get the ones closer to the base." Dabi mumbles, face already back in the couch. Perks of sleeping with your boss in the past, shame was nonexistent.
Shigaraki didn't need to be told twice, quickly making his way over to straddle Dabi's lower back and taking the phone offered to him to see what he was doing before getting to work.
That's how Hawks finds them when he finally returns, Dabi completely zoned out and it's only from having the quirk his entire life that Hawks knows what the chirping means and it makes his face flush red.
"Having fun over there?" He's proud when he manages to not squeak.
Dabi just trills, not even trying to move as the others move away at Hawks' prompting though he does chitter in complaint.
"Huh, so that's what I would have been like." Hawks hums as he crouches down next to the currently feathered villain. "Think we can go to your room? He told me how to switch our quirks back, but I don't think you want to be around others for this."
Dabi blinks at him slowly, taking a moment to process the words before nodding. "Block me for a second." He whispers.
"Figured out why I don't let you touch my back?" Hawks smirks as he angles himself to block the room's view of Dabi as the villain stretches his wings before pulling them around himself a bit as he stands, obviously trying to play it off as some bird comfort thing.
"Yeah. Worth it though." Dabi hums, more relaxed than anyone in the room has ever seen him. "Let's get this shit fixed. That's way too easy of a mental off button."
"Trust me, I know." Hawks snorts, letting Dabi lead the way with a wave to the others, speaking up when they're out of earshot. "So, basically we just need to get to know each other more. The more personal the better….I already noticed feathers on my back from reading your file."
"So, we just need to quiz each other and I can stop getting distracted by my own wrist?" Dabi hums with a rather bird-like tilt of his head.
"Mutant quirks apparently take longer, but yeah that's the next quickest way after just waiting it out." Hawks nods, flopping on the bed so Dabi and his freshly preened wings can sit backward in the chair and his brow furrows as he realizes he was teased. "You'll probably have yours back before I have mine."
Dabi nods, tilting his head in thought. "Any faster ways?"
Hawks flushes red, picking at a frayed thread on the villain's bed. "…The more personal the better remember?"
Dabi frowns in confusion, brow furrowed before they shoot into his hairline. "You don't mean-?"
"Biblically yeah." Hawks scowls at the ceiling. "We can try the easier methods though. I understand you probably don't want to-"
"Pretty sure I've yelled at you before for putting words in my mouth, pretty bird." Dabi chirps in annoyance.
Hawks jerks his head up to stare at Dabi in shock. "Huh?"
"Who the hell said I wouldn't want to sleep with you, birdie?" Dabi scoffs. "Been trying to at least get a hate fuck since the third meeting. Jesus, birdie, what the hell did they do to your self-esteem over there?"
Hawks just stares at him deadpan. "I am missing feathers."
Dabi's eye twitches. "Right. Now do you want your wings back or not?"
Hawks fidgets in embarrassment but when he notices actual steam leaving his face, his mind is made up. "Only if you actually want to-"
"Oh my god." Dabi groans in annoyance before Hawks is yelping when big feathers swoop him off the bed and deposit him on the villain's lap.
"When did you-"
"I'm used to monitoring changes in my quirk. I was a little distracted but noticed what it felt like for them to detach earlier." Dabi huffs, pulling the flustered hero into a deep kiss that makes the blonde melt.
"It took me years of being locked in a closet to figure that out." Hawks pants, pupils rapidly eating away at gold. "You haven't even had it a full 24 hours."
Dabi feels his body temperature start to lower with this new information as his feathers flare. "My quirk risks killing me every time I use it. I can't afford to not understand what's going on with my body so I'm a fast learner."
Hawks' pupils pin now with that. "Is that why you're freezing?"
"Something to do with it. I'll let you read the damn file later. Right now, we've been eye fucking each other for months and I want to take advantage of this." Dabi trills, pulling Hawks into another deep kiss that has his temperature lowering further before he chirps in surprise when he feels talons between his wings and it goes straight to his cock. "Fuck!"
"That's the plan." Hawks snickers before his eyes widen when he grinds against Dabi and realizes what's going inside him. "Yeah, your talons need to go."
Dabi snorts, pulling the hero's shirt off to give his wings room to grow before starting to attack his neck with his mouth, some animalistic part of his brain demanding that he marks what's his. The thought makes him trill territorially and cling to Hawks in his need to claim. "Shit, pretty bird. Is this what was going through your head every time you looked at me like that?"
"The feral need to take you back to my nest and mark you for the world to see? Yeah." Hawks gasps, bird sounds starting to slip into his other sounds. The sensitivity from the telekinesis side of the quirk was definitely back if he was already this worked up. "Was part of what took so long. I was trying to figure out how to do that with the scar tissue."
"Just make a necklace out of a feather." Dabi scoffs. "Are you that much of a birdbrain?"
"Shut up, you're distracting." Hawks chitters before cursing. "Dammit, I'm either going to have to remember that again or speed run switching sides."
"If you think you're leaving this nest tonight, you officially fried your brain." Dabi glares with a warning noise. "They don’t need to know when you have your quirk back."
"They'd figure it out eventually." Hawks sighs, the sound cutting into a croon when Dabi slips his hand into the hero's pants. When he had even gotten them open, Hawks has no clue, but it makes him grip the base of pretty white wings once more, drawing a cursed moan from both of them.
"Bed." Dabi groans, using the feathers from earlier to support Hawks' body weight before he drops the hero on the bed and looms over him like a predator with prey. He gets to watch the position set off some sort of bird instinct in Hawks' brain as pupils rapidly shrink and expand, his few feathers sharpening behind him when Dabi spreads his own wings to look larger above him. Being able to feel Hawks' heart race through the feathers holding him sends heat rushing through Dabi's body and he croons.
"Dabi…move. Something. Bird brain hates this, but I also don't know if I've ever been this hard in my life." Hawks whispers, talons curling against Dabi's back and making the villain finally snap.
Dabi lets out something that sounds like the bird equivalent of a growl as he descends on the frozen hero, diving in for another rough kiss that leaves them gasping for air. At the same time, the feathers give Dabi the leverage to get the hero's pants off and a hand around Hawks' cock, looming over him the entire time as Hawks chirps and moans.
"Hot! Fuck, no seriously, you're getting your fire back, cool it." Hawks soon hisses despite continuing to arch into the villain's touch. "Mnmm~ There. Right there." He moans when Dabi brings the temperature down to something that isn't going to burn his dick off. "Heh, some lube and it'll almost feel like I'm fucking someONE-Shit!"
Apparently, they were on the same track because Dabi sent one of the remaining feathers he had control over into his nightstand and was using his free hand to pour some lube over Hawk's cock to help the glide and make red feathers shudder.
"Way ahead of you, pretty bird." Dabi smirks, fangs on full display as he goes back to marking up the hero's neck. "Talons are almost gone. You sure about this?"
"Yes, absolutely, please, fuck, I haven't been this sensitive in years. Please, Dabi." Hawks chirps, bird noises slowly coming back with his feathers as he bucks into the tight heat of Dabi's hand. "Had an entire breakdown after the first meeting because you weren't supposed to be hot, but all bird brain could scream was mate so please ."
Dabi curses, concentrating to get a feather to dump lube on his fingers before it falls with the loss of connection. He had expected to have to actually work to get the hero to beg for him, and he probably will in the future, but having him so sensitive and squirming beneath him is definitely doing something for both the villain and the remaining bird instincts that register it as 'Potential mate trying to escape. Give him a reason to stay'. Dabi can definitely get behind that as he lets his natural body heat warm the lube, taking stock of his talons on the upstroke and trilling happily when he feels they're gone.
"How're your wings doing, birdie? Do I get to watch your face or do you need to flip?" The villain checks in, feeling his own feathers starting to fall.
Hawks squirms a bit before wincing when he bends a feather. "Next time. I can't feel them yet to take them off."
The hero acknowledging a next time gets a happy little coo out of the fire user as he lets go to help him onto his front, keeping a possessive hand somewhere on him the entire time until he can—now carefully because of the wings about the size of post-High-End—loom over him again to trill in his ear in what he now knows is the bird equivalent of dirty talk. Feeling the new feathers puff up against his chest makes him smirk.
"It's going to be such a shame when I can't make those sounds anymore. The back of your neck is as red as your feathers just from a little cooing, it's adorable." Dabi teases as he leans back enough to prod at the hero's already twitching hole.
"Well, hopefully, you remember what they mean when I can turn the tables." Hawks huffs, chirping when a warm finger slips inside. "Shit, Dabs."
"I'll let you know, birdie. Maybe I can practice a few." Dabi hums, smirking when Hawks' feathers shake. "Like that idea, pretty bird?"
"My mate making an effort to dirty talk me in a language only we can understand? Obviously." Hawks scoffs as though Dabi asked something ridiculous only to squawk out a moan when Dabi works another finger in and locates his prostate as punishment for the sass. "How did you-"
"I wasn't always in the League, remember?" Dabi shrugs like it's no big deal before making a cooing noise when he sees feathers sharpen. "Calm down, birdie, I'm clean."
"Reassuring, but not the worry," Hawks mumbles, trying to focus against the fingers doing their best to distract him.
"Tragic backstory later." Dabi insists with a wave of his free hand. "On the bright side, a bigger feather is starting to grow back from that."
"Joy." Hawks deadpans sarcastically before chirping when that gets his prostate tortured again. "Fuck! Fine! I'll snoop later just please tell me I'm almost ready." He can't even deny the fact that he whined that last part.
"Hmm, almost." Dabi hums, more than happy to let the topic go as he spreads his fingers to hear a needy trill. "Let me just get my own pants-cut them and you can keep looking like a hatchling." The villain warns, seeing a sharpened feather detach before it reattaches almost petulantly. "The painkillers were the most I'm letting you buy me."
Hawks makes a few grumpy bird noises before there's another squawked moan Dabi insistently targets his prostate. "Fine! Fine! Fuck-fine, just please , Dabi!"
Dabi has to admit that having Japan's most thirsted-after hero begging for his cock is a hell of an ego boost, but it also makes it very hard to stop teasing him just to keep hearing his pretty pleas. In the end, however, Dabi's dick wins out and has him flapping what's left of his wings in his struggle out of his pants and chirping in surprise when he actually gets some air. He's almost disappointed he didn't think to try that while he would be in control of the wings, but it's too late now so he just refocuses on the task at hand which is smearing the excess lube on his cock and lining it up with the hero's twitching hole. He smirks when the feeling of his Prince Albert against the hero's rim makes Hawks chirp.
"Come on, birdie, I'm covered in metal and just admitted to whoring myself out. Did you really not expect piercings?" Dabi hums, rutting between the hero's cheeks to tease him.
"Piercing s ? Plural ?" Hawks chirps, trying to crane his neck to see and letting his head drop with a curse when Dabi moves enough for Hawks to see a Jacob's Ladder running down the shaft. "I might have to thank that villain."
Dabi snorts, shaking his head at the dork as he lines up, watching the hero's wings flutter in anticipation. "Ready, pretty bird?"
"Gods, yes." Hawks groans, crooning out a moan when Dabi starts pushing in. "Fuck~"
"Working on it," Dabi smirks, laughing when a wing tries to smack him, but isn't quite long enough yet. "You made the same joke 20 minutes ago, shut the fuck up."
Hawks opens his mouth to respond, but all that comes out is a chirped moan being forced out of him by each rung of the villain's ladder catching on his rim and grinding against his walls with each thrust inside. His wings are trembling by the time Dabi is seated fully inside and all he can do is coo and moan at the villain's teasing. He's extra sensitive everywhere like it’s a brand new quirk and when a warm hand runs between his wings, his cock throbs as he chirps.
"Shit, birdie, quirk has you messed up, huh?" Dabi chuckles, noticing his own senses returning to normal so it feels less like he'll cum at any amount of stimulation, but Hawks is also squeezing around him like he might instead so he's not in any better state.
"Feels like a new quirk." Hawks manages to slur out as he grips the sheets with his talons. "Like every single nerve can feel everything and I'm going to lose my mind."
"I can tell, you're gripping my cock like you'll cum at any second." Dabi hums, running warm hands along the hero's sides to hear Hawks' breath stutter as he moans. "You'll probably fall apart if I even try to move, won't you, pretty bird?"
"No- I-" Hawks actually caws when Dabi attempts to move. "Fuck, yes, probably. Don't stop though. There are still crest feathers in your hair."
Dabi can feel them trying to come loose with how they itch like hell but also knows there's still more on his back too. Those aren't his concern though. He's entirely more focused on driving Hawks' crazy on his cock. If he can get the hero crying, even better.
"If you insist, birdie." Dabi hums in a way that spells danger, and Hawks must realize it too based on how his feathers puff up. Whatever the case, Hawks has had more than enough time to adjust to him so he starts pulling out.
The effect is instant of feathers half puffing up, half sharpening, and sheets ripping as Hawks shrieks. He's almost afraid Dabi will stop but instead, he gets a trill in return that makes his wings flutter before he's moaning again when Dabi starts properly moving. Fuck, he can feel every centimeter of cock and every single place hot hands fight not to burn freckled skin. He swears he sees stars when the villain finally finds his prostate again and lets out another shriek when Dabi starts targeting it.
"Dabi~! Fuck, please, please, please. Fuck your cock, your hands, pleASE!" Hawks cries out when a hot hand returns to his dick and he tenses all over to not cum on the spot. He makes a warbling noise when Dabi laughs meanly and starts stroking in time with his thrusts. The angle is awkward, but the villain knows what he's doing and the leftover lube and heat makes it feel like Hawks is fucking someone as well and it's driving him crazy.
"What's wrong, pretty bird? Gonna cum already? Go on, you know you can." Dabi teases, his clean hand gripping the base of a wing to make Hawks sing. "You said I could continue after all."
Hawks is fairly sure he'll pass out if he cums right now, and the mental image of Dabi continuing to use his fucked out body is not helping. He can't voice this though, so stimulated that he's been reduced to bird noises that he just has to hope and pray Dabi can still understand because like hell is he tapping out.
Luckily for the bird, Dabi still has full understanding though attempts to respond in kind are now stunted. "Shit, birdie, sounds like I'm gonna have to practice. We'll have plenty of time though since you're crazy if you think you're getting rid of me. That need to claim is still there along with the fangs and I plan to make sure all of Japan knows you're taken under that stupid collar. Gonna mark you a way not even the Commission can take away." He feels the hero clench around him with a coo. "Like that idea, pretty bird?"
Hawks croons, nodding his head desperately as he claws at the sheets.
Mark me. Fuck me. Cum in me. Fuck, Dabi. Want you so bad . He wants to scream, but it won't come out and he makes a frustrated chirping.
"Aw, what's wrong, baby? Got something to say?" Dabi coos mockingly, panting as he nears his own edge. He's honestly shocked Hawks hasn't cum yet, but with the way he's trembling, there's no way he won't be falling apart soon. "I can still understand, you know? Want me to mark you up and leave you dripping cum, pretty bird? Want me to mark you inside and out, pretty bird?"
Hawks nods quickly, chirping as Dabi picks up speed and slams back into him harder. Readjusting to hiding the bird sounds is going to be a pain in the ass, but right now, he feels his wings flaring out as he's pushed over the edge, bird-like croons and chirps leaving him as he finally cums hard onto the sheets. He feels the heat increase and hands leave him with a curse as he fights not to black out, but an annoyed chirp gets them to at least return to his hips earning a happy coo.
"Fuck, birdie." Dabi curses as the hero spasms around him, dragging him closer to the edge. "I can't guarantee you won't end up branded-shit!" Hawks clenching around him rips one last squawk out of him that ends in a more strangled moan. "I am not branding you when you're not in your right mind, dumb-AH-ASS-Fuck!"
His chivalry is met with angry chirping, but Dabi isn't budging on the stance. "Not-shit- happening. Fuck, I'm close, birdie."
This finally gets a happy trill out of the fucked out bird and Dabi doesn't realize he's closed his eyes until he's caught off guard by wings knocking him forward so his fangs are hovering over the hero's shoulder. Whatever was left of the bird instincts coos happily at having such an eager mate and Dabi is sent tumbling over the edge as he slams into the base and bites hard into the meat of Hawks’ shoulder, a final pleased bird noise leaving them both with the action.
He's not entirely sure, but Dabi is fairly certain he feels some form of bond wrap around his mind as the last of his feathers fall, but that could just be the endorphins. Whatever the case, he has a happily cooing bird under him and a bloody bite to take care of…soon. Right now, he just wants to cuddle the hero his brain is now referring to as mate so just maneuvers them away from Hawks' cum to do just that, laughing when trying to pull out gets him chittered at angrily.
"Needy much?" Dabi snorts, careful of Hawks' wings as he positions them chest to chest and nuzzles wild blonde hair.
At first, he just gets another annoyed chirp, but Hawks soon clears his throat to huff. "I've been pining and fighting bird instincts for months. Fuck off."
"I mean I just tried to and got talons in my scars for my efforts." Dabi teases, doing his best attempt at the soothing coo he could do earlier. It's not as effective, but the effort seems to at least be appreciated as Hawks coos back. "I'll work on that."
Hawks is quiet for a second before a gold eye peak up in wonder. "You will? That wasn't just foreplay?"
Dabi raises an eyebrow at why that would be such a big deal, but seeing usually absent red feathers intertwined in gold bangs is all the answer he needs. "Absolutely. You're noises are adorable and it'll be worth the temporary sore throat to get more of them."
The back of Hawks' neck flushes red as he looks back down, but he's still getting control of his wings again so Dabi gets to watch them flutter happily. "…I'll try around here."
"Listen to the first voice with Twice, ignore the second." Dabi hums as he gets comfortable. "He was loving the sounds I was making, but the second voice is a jerk. He’ll feel horrible if he actually hurts you though."
"Cool, I was right." Hawks chirps proudly before his eyes open in wonder. "I can actually eat here!"
"Even more when we get ahold of Liberation funds next week." The villain assures.
"Oh, thank gods." Hawks groans, snuggling back into Dabi's body heat. "I should've switched ages ago."
"Certainly took you long enough." Dabi scoffs, running a warm hand through red feathers. "Toga was ready to kidnap you some of the shit we've figured out."
"Eh, wouldn't have made as much of an impact compared to me actually defecting." Hawks shrugs. "…Thank you though…it really does mean a lot."
"Anything for you." Dabi hums before smirking and adding for no other reason than to fluster the hero. "My little mate~"
It has the desired effect of making Hawks' wings puff up as he chirps in embarrassment. "You're going to use that against me any chance you get aren't you?"
"Oh, absolutely." Dabi snickers, kissing blonde hair. "You're cute when you're flustered."
Hawks makes several more embarrassed noises, but not once tells him to stop.
The circumstances were annoying, but he finally has someone who accepts him and he plans to enjoy every second of it.
A warm hand between his wings makes them puff for a different reason now.
No matter how infuriating he might be.
#dabihawks#hotwings#hotwingz#bnha dabi#bnha hawks#todoroki touya#takami keigo#bnha#dabi#hawks#mha smut#tw past abuse#dhweek23nsfw#dabihawksweek23
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The Truth In Your Skin - 13
The tattoo shop au continues! And is so SO spicy...
If you want to read it from the start it's all over on ao3. <3
David/Darlin, Milo/Sweetheart, Asher/Huxley
tags: angst, past abuse, explicit sexual content, relationship building, communication!
The Truth In Your Skin - 13
Darlin sat in the corner of the couch, remote in hand, trying to pick something to watch.
The apartment smelled like popcorn even before the microwave dinged and David opened it, pulling out the bag.
Asher wasn’t home. It was just the two of them tonight. It wasn’t like they didn’t hang out just the two of them, but this seemed different. Asher was going to something with Huxley and his team for the weekend. Darlin rubbed their tongue against the inside of their lip, automatically looking for the metal ring that wasn’t there anymore. Were they spending the night? What did that mean? What would David want that to mean? Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck.
David dumped the popcorn into a big bowl. Of course, he did. Darlin would have just eaten it out of the bag.
“Are you overthinking something?” he asked in that gravel deep voice.
Their gaze flicked up from the bowl to his face. He was watching them. “Fuck you,” they shot off and then almost choked, heat rushing to their face.
David blinked and then grinned. It was nothing if not smug. He nodded as if to say, “interesting” and tossed the empty bag. “Did you pick out something to watch?” He picked up the bowl and joined them in the living room, putting it down on the coffee table between their glasses.
He sat down, not on the other side of the couch but in the middle, next to Darlin. Their thighs bumped and Darlin didn’t move to break that contact. They forced their eyes back on the tv. “I’m thinking maybe that new horror comedy…”
He screwed up his face, leaning back into the couch. “What the hell is a horror comedy?”
Darlin smiled. “Like, a slasher but with hijinks. Wait, you’ve never seen one?”
He shook his head.
“Oh, then fuck that, we’re watching Happy Death Day.”
He frowned outright, lifting that pierced eyebrow. “That sounds stupid.”
“You’re going to love it.” Darlin found it and hit play before he could read what it was about or argue. They put the remote down, took a handful of popcorn and leaned back into the couch beside him, shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh.
After his first huffed breath, a near laugh for David, they relaxed, smirking to themself because he really was going to get a kick out of this movie. He stole some of the popcorn out of their hand rather than reaching for the bowl. “Do you want to do another session on your tattoo next week?”
Darlin chewed, nodding, but said, “Maybe we should do the tattoo after hours, like you said. So as not to freak anyone out.”
David turned his head to the side to look at them. “That’s not what I said. We can work on it after hours if you’re more comfortable with that—not to make other people more comfortable with it. It’s about you and your body. I’ve never asked someone with a cover up job to come in after hours to not bother other people with their scars, Darlin…”
Heat rushed to Darlin’s face. Yeah. Of course, he wouldn’t tell anyone else that. They wouldn’t either. But…
David shifted a little toward them. “You said you and Milo were okay,” he said quietly, a question there.
Darlin nodded. “We are. I just… He was definitely freaked out.”
“He’s your friend, and Milo cares a lot about his friends getting hurt,” he said, the “we all do” hanging there unsaid.
Darlin nodded again.
David looked at them for a little longer. They weren’t sure what he saw, but he touched their cheek and leaned in. Just like usual, he didn’t close the distance on the first kiss, he just leaned and waited, like it was up to them. Darlin wasn’t sure why, but they really liked that. Maybe it was the self-control? Or the care? Heat pressed into their cheeks and they kissed him, soft and slow, growing deep and lazy. Their hand found the front of his shirt, fingers twisting in cotton to feel his chest beneath. His hand gripped their hip, squeezing in time with a low groan.
Darlin moved, straddling his lap and getting leverage in that kiss, his face tipped up to theirs now and his big hands gripped the backs of their thighs. He fed them his tongue and they sucked until he grunted and squirmed under them.
They settled in his lap, pressing hard and feeling his arousal. It sent a shudder through them, physical proof that he was attracted to them. It wasn’t something they ever worried about before. Not that they’d thought a lot of themself, they just hadn’t overthought it at all. Now? Now they overthought everything. Now they worried.
When was the last time they’d…
No. Nope. Not going to think about any of that.
They didn’t need to think about anything but this moment and David.
One of his hands was up the back of their shirt, finding skin, tracing their spine. “Darlin…” he ground out their name in a low whisper.
The raw want in his voice made them groan. They tugged at his shirt. They wanted it off. They wanted more contact. They hadn’t wanted anything like that in years. They hadn’t even thought about skin and kissing and more again until David. Now they fucking ached.
He smiled against the kiss and lifted his arms, letting them drag his shirt off of him. They pulled theirs off too, hesitating for a second the way they’d learned to whenever exposing that devastating side. But David had seen it plenty and now the past was half-covered in new ink. They pressed against him and they both sighed at the press of hips and skin. His hands were on them again, their kisses growing urgent.
Darlin dragged their hands down his chest, trailing that line of soft hair down his lower abdomen to the top of his jeans. They wanted to see him, touch him, and taste him. “Can I?” they asked, more than a little proud they hadn’t tripped over the damn words.
He growled, hips rolling up under them. “Yes.”
They kissed him again, pulling his fly open and pushing his jeans down his hips. His erection strained the front of his black briefs and when they rubbed him through that thin fabric, he moaned into their mouth.
His teeth grazed their bottom lip in a playful ghost of a bite and their whole body jerked back, off his lap and onto the coffee table, knocking over the popcorn bowl and startling them both. They stared at each other, panting, eyes wide, no longer touching.
Fuck.
Darlin swallowed hard, their pulse loud in their skull and somewhere back there, the sound of their head thumping against hardwood and the feel of someone else’s teeth on their lip, hooking into that piercing.
David stared back at them, unreadable.
Fuck!
“I’m sorry,” they both coughed up the words at the same time.
Darlin shook their head, looking around at the mess they’d made. At least they’d managed not to knock over the glasses… This was humiliating enough already. How had they ruined everything so fast?
“Darlin…”
They winced, dragged another breath, and glanced at him. He was right in front of them, after all, his knees between their sprawled legs. Their cheeks burned. “I’m sorry,” they said again, voice husky from want and defeat. Where do they go from here? What do they do? They’d gotten them both riled up and then jumped like a spooked cat.
David shook his head leaning forward slowly, like they might jump again. Fair. “I wasn’t thinking… It was the teeth?”
They cringed, fighting the instinct to deny it. “Yeah. I’m—”
“Don’t apologize,” he said quickly, like hearing it again would cause him physical pain. “Is this the first time you’ve fooled around since…” He left it hanging because he wouldn’t say “broke up” like it had been something amicable, but they also hadn’t talked about it in detail. Darlin hadn’t given it words so neither could he.
They exhaled shakily and nodded once, fighting not to lie or run.
“Do you want to stop here for tonight? We can just watch the movie and maybe talk about it?”
Darlin groaned, scrubbing a hand over their face. “No. I want to not have fucked it up to start with.” After a few seconds they dropped their hand and opened their eyes. They weren’t sure what sort of disappointment or pity they’d expected on his face but it wasn’t there. He leaned forward, legs still spread with theirs between his. His elbows settled on his knees, his head cocked to the side to watch them. “No teeth, then,” he said, voice still gravelly with want.
They shivered.
“Do you want to be on top? Be in charge?”
Darlin swallowed hard. “No.”
David groaned deep in his chest but didn’t move to touch them yet. “Anything else off limits that you know of? We can add to the list as we go…”
Darlin tried to think beyond just imagining touching him again. Off limits. They’d never really had any hard rules before, nothing that didn’t require serious conversation beforehand anyway. But now? Teeth against their lip had set them off. “Name calling… Hair pulling…”
For a second the darkness in his eyes wasn’t lust, it was anger, but then it was gone and he nodded. “Can I touch you?”
Darlin exhaled hard, a mix of relief and desire. “Yeah.” They reached for him, his body already leaning into theirs, grabbing their hips to pick them up off the table and drag them back onto his lap. They shook with the weight of relief when they were against him again, arms curled around the back of his shoulders and mouth crushing his. They made out like they needed it—like they needed each other.
-
David broke the kiss, gripping the side of their neck and making them look at him, really look at him. God, he loved the way their breath dragged and those little moans rattling in their chest. “You can add to the list whenever you want to, whatever you want to,” he said, his voice gravel, but it needed to be said and he needed to know they’d heard him. He’d never wanted anyone as badly as he wanted Darlin. “You know that, right? You have to tell me.”
Darlin shivered and nodded, fingers sliding down his abdomen to hastily hook into the elastic band of his briefs. “Y-Yeah. Yes. I know. I know.”
David grinned, growling when he lifted them up and moved, easily switching places to put them down on the couch and him on his knees on the floor between their spread thighs. “Good, because you’re so fucking hot you’re driving me crazy.”
Darlin blinked, surprised and then slowly grinning. “Shaw…”
He pulled the front of their jeans open and they swallowed a moan when they lifted their hips for him, letting him drag the last of their clothing down their hips and then lifting their legs in the air to get them free. He palmed their naked thighs, spread. Their hair was mussed up, half in their face, but those intense eyes were on him the whole time. “You got any problems with me using my mouth?”
Darlin choked back a moan, squirming under his grip. “Nope. No problems.”
He groaned and closed the distance between them, reveling in the way they bucked and gasped, their hands flying to his shoulders. Their need felt amazing, like his own being bounced right back at him. They swore and begged, clapping a hand over their own mouth when they got loud, like that was the only way they could possibly bring the volume down. He didn’t care if the neighbors heard.
They tried to warn him when they were close, like there was any chance in hell he’d stop. He wanted to hear what they sounded like when they came. He wanted the first of a thousand orgasms to be on his tongue.
They screamed a moan into their palm, their body twitching and convulsing under his grip.
When they shuddered and came back to themself, David smiled and pressed a kiss into their thigh, watching that dazed look on their face and feel way the fuck too proud of himself. He knew the intensity of that orgasm wasn’t entirely due to his skill. How long had it been since the last time they… No, he pushed that thought away, reveling instead in having them with him now, naked and twitching on his couch in the aftermath of pleasure he’d brought them.
And then those eyes were on him, breath still coming fast.
He grinned and then gasped in surprise when they tackled him to the floor. He landed on his back on the rug, beside spilled popcorn. They kissed him hard, their tongue flicking against his lip ring, before they slid hastily down his legs, until they were laying between them. They peppered kisses against his abdomen, fingers curling into the elastic of his briefs and finally dragging them down to where his jeans were barely hanging on his thighs. His cock slapped their bare chest, making them both groan.
He watched them slide lower and then finally lift their head to look at him. Their surprise and sharp inhale, accompanied by that lusty smirk was more than gratifying. He twitched, biting his lip when they took him in hand, stroking, exploring, dragging their gaze down to the lorum piercing, a silver bar at his base. “Fuck…” Darlin groaned and then leaned down and licked him.
David inhaled through his teeth and dropped his head back. He almost reached for their hair before catching himself, pushing his palm down against the rug beside his hip instead. They sucked and he growled, pressing his skull back to keep from jerking his hips forward. They were slow, not timid or unsure, just teasing. He shivered, looking down his body to watch when they finally took him into their mouth. They looked back at him through their lashes when they swallowed him deeper, trying to take as much of him as possible.
He clawed at the rug, his eyes rolling. “Darlin… Fuck… Your mouth…” he ground out words, disjointed. They hummed around him, adding to the already fantastically lewd sounds of their mouth on his sex. He groaned when he was close, his arms curling up over his head to grab at his own hair. “Darlin… I’m… You’re going to make me come…”
They didn’t slow and he bit into his own arm when he came, hips shaking and breath stuck in his chest. They swallowed around him, one hand squeezing his base and the other stroking his thigh. He twitched and growled, finally dropping his arms and lifting his head and shoulders to look down at them, watching Darlin lick him clean before giving that piercing one more kiss. They put their cheek in their hand and looked up at him, lips still wet and swollen. “So…” they started, voice husky and breath still coming fast.
David raised an eyebrow, waiting, not sure what they could be planning to say but really interested.
“This piercing…” They brushed a finger over it and his semi-soft cock twitched.
He hummed.
“Did Milo do it?” they asked conversationally.
David laughed. “Of all the fucking things…” He sat up, forcing them to roll over. They laughed and sat up, naked, and picked up popcorn off the floor.
He smacked it out of their hand before they could eat it, frowning. “I’ll make more.” He got up, pulling his pants back up.
Darlin frowned, getting up too and looking for their pants. “What? Why? It’s just floor popcorn.”
David rolled his eyes. “That’s gross and it’s cold.”
“It’s wasteful to toss it!” They picked up their underwear, pulling them back on. They paused, looking at their jeans on the floor and then at the couch again, like they were trying to decide something.
David bit his lip, picking up his t-shirt and holding it out to them. It was bigger than theirs.
Darlin grinned and took it, pulling it on. It just barely reached their thighs. “Can I borrow some pajama pants?”
David nodded, scooping up floor popcorn before they could try to save any of it and trying to hide just how much he loved seeing them in his shirt. “Sure, but you can lay around without pants too if you want. Ash isn’t going to be back until Sunday night.”
Darlin smirked. “Really? You don’t mind?”
“Do I mind having you pantless?” he asked, in case they could hear how stupid it was for themself.
Darlin settled back on the couch, grabbing the remote to restart the movie while David made new popcorn.
Before they settled in for another try at movie night, he changed into a pair of soft sweatpants and grabbed the blanket off his bed.
Darlin snuggled in against his side, his arm around them, and pulled the popcorn bowl closer. The movie was pretty good, but the company was better. He hadn’t technically asked them to stay the night, but he was definitely hoping they would.
#the tattoo shop au#spicy#so spicy#redactedverse#fanfic#david/darlin#angst#tw past abuse#tw trauma#we spilled the popcorn#<3#dominimoonbeam
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Pretty Little Things | Eddie Munson x Reader
♥ Summary: A traumatic incident from your past decides to reappear in your nightmares. Eddie lets you vent. Short, sweet, 100% a vent fic, and that's ok. [Eddie Munson x Gender Neutral!Reader]
♥ Warnings: Past abuse: none of it is described in detail and the reader does not go through abuse in the fic. Additionally: trauma, nightmares, crying, vent fic, one use of (Y/N), and blood used as a metaphor. please let me know if there is anything you would like me to tag.
♥ A/N: for an accompanying track, i recommend "pretty little things" by the crane wives. thanks to @mxcheese for the help on this one
♥ Word count: 1,573
♥♥♥
You already hadn’t been sleeping well. Some nights you went to bed far too late, others you woke up at an odd hour with no explanation, and of course, sometimes you had nightmares- but you were used to that. To all of it. Late nights, weird mornings; even bad dreams were becoming uncomfortably familiar. Red lightning across a grey sky, a hundred thousand monstrous bats, and the dying screams of your boyfriend were a normal issue at this point- so normal that you had gotten used to it. You learned how to cope. You would be ok.
But then, y’know. The sandman had to smack you with something else. Great.
You tried to ignore it for the rest of the day- tried to pretend that you hadn’t woken up in a cold sweat. You played it off as just another 3 a.m. morning. You acted like you didn’t care, and you so desperately wished that you actually didn’t care. You cared. You cared a lot. And someone noticed.
Each weird thing you did that day, every time you made up an excuse, Eddie saw it and marked it away for later. Worry built up inside him, but he didn’t want to bring it up while you were surrounded by people. He couldn’t let it rest though. In public, he would play it off and try to do something to make you smile. Internally, he repeated- “I’ll check on them when we get home, I’ll check on them when we get home, I’ll check on them when we get home.”
And he did. That wonderful motherfucker did.
You were floating through your nighttime routine, trying to keep your hands from shaking as you washed your face and brushed your teeth. You were so in your own head- trying to keep the memories at bay, and trying not to disassociate- you almost didn’t notice him standing behind you.
“Hey,” he leaned in against the counter, resting his back against it so that he could watch you, “Are you doin’ ok? You’ve just been a little-”
He cuts himself off, letting his eyes go wide and bringing his hands up in a silent display. Again, he made you smile.
“Weird?” you supplied.
“No, no, not weird. It just- it seems like something’s bugging you, babe. Do you wanna talk about it?”
Your hands gripped the counter. You pulled your gaze away from Eddie’s shirt, focusing instead on your reflection in the mirror. You looked so scared and so tired.
Eddie opened his mouth to say something- to tell you that it was okay if you didn’t want to talk about it and that he would drop the subject if you wanted to. You cut him off.
“That’s kind of the problem. I don’t know if I can.”
Every part of Eddie instantly filled with concern. You could tell just from the look in his eyes that he was desperate to comfort you, and with the shit you’d lived through, who could blame him? Not you. No, you wanted to kiss him.
“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to tell me anything right now, it’s-”
“No! No,” you brought your hands up, moving to touch him but hesitating before making contact, “I want to tell you, it’s just… it’s a lot. And I’m gonna be slow about it. You might need to be patient with me.”
Eddie leaned towards you, “Anything you need, sweetheart.”
“Okay,” your voice was no louder than a whisper. You sighed and met your own gaze in the mirror. Your fingers returned to the counter, and your nails scratched at the sink. Eddie reached for one of your hands, but stopped short, allowing you to make the next move. You did. Your hand slid into his like it was made to be there. You took a deep breath.
“I had another nightmare, Eds. Another one of… those nightmares.”
“With the ex?”
“Yeah, with,” you turned away from your reflection to face Eddie. You didn’t look him in the eyes, “With the ex.”
“Shit,” he brought your hand closer to him, “I’m sorry, baby.”
“Yeah, me too. So, uh,” you cleared your throat, hesitating again. You weren’t afraid of Eddie. You had no worries about how he would respond. No, you were afraid of everything you’d seen while you slept. You were even afraid that talking about it would make it feel that much more real.
But you wanted to do this. You wanted to tell Eddie- to let him in. Afraid as you were, you were terrified of having to face this without him. With a deep breath, you let your guts spill out all over the bathroom counter. Blood and viscera dripped onto the bathroom floor. Above it all, you could hear the racing beat of your petrified heart.
“He and I were in the same place. I don’t know why we were there, I think it was a party, or something? Maybe we were at Steve’s? Whatever it was, I was trying to play nice with him. I guess I didn’t want to cause a scene- but eventually, I couldn’t hold it in anymore, and I snapped. I told him everything he did wrong. I told him that he hurt me and that for most of our relationship, he abused me, and I told him I hate him, and then…”
You paused, catching your breath, hesitating again. It was getting harder and harder to breathe.
“Holy fuck,” you gasped, “I don’t know if I can say it.”
“You don’t have to say it, sweetheart-”
“No, Eds, I want to say it, it’s just- it’s getting hard to breathe.”
“(Y/N)-”
With another gasp of air, you let it out. A dam inside you burst. Your lungs were filled with blood and water, and you let Eddie in.
“And then I blinked, and we were alone, and I think… I think, in the nightmare… fuck-”
“It’s okay,” he whispered, always reassuring you, “You’re okay, sweet thing.”
“I think, in the nightmare, he hurt me. He- he put his hands on me. And I- Eddie, I was so fucking scared. I didn't know what to do, or how to get him to stop. I just wanted you, Eds- just you.”
Shaking and out of breath, you let yourself collapse into Eddie’s chest. Hot tears streamed down your face. You clung to Eddie’s shirt like a lifeline- like he was a raft, and you were a sailor lost in a vast and stormy sea.
Over the sound of your soft sobbing, you heard him ask, “Is it okay if I hold you?”
“Please.”
He wrapped his arms around you and held you just as tightly as you held him. A fresh round of tears came to your eyes as you realized that despite all the mental agony, you felt safe. You always felt safe with Eddie, but this- it was something different. Something you needed.
With your body firmly pressed against his, you finally started to calm down. And then, upon reviewing your words, you got upset again- a different kind of upset, though. Where before you had felt the cold hands of a fluttering fear, you now felt the red-hot sting of pure anger.
“God,” you groaned, voice muffled by Eddie’s chest, “I hate that I just said, ‘I think.’”
He pulled back so he could hear you better and let you continue.
“I know what he did in the dream. I know it. I just hesitated because I’m afraid to say it. I’m still fucking afraid of him. I thought I was over this. I should be over this.”
“Hey, hey,” again, Eddie’s voice was a life raft in a storm, saving you from crashing waves and a torrential downpour, “You should take your time, sweetheart. Shit like this- it takes time to heal. You can’t try to rush yourself to get over it.”
“Eds, it’s been years.”
“I know. Like I said, it takes time,” he tucked two of his fingers beneath your chin, bringing your face up so that he could see it, “But I want you to know I’m here for you. For every minute, every second of it, I’ll be right here. Take all the time you need, I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”
You took a short sharp breath and dove back into his chest. You both made weird noises on impact, but that was okay. That was just how it was between you.
“I’m not gonna let him hurt you, sweetheart. I won’t let him get near you again.”
“Do you promise?” Your voice was quiet, barely legible and muffled by Eddie’s shirt. You almost felt childish asking, but he put a swift end to all of your fears.
“I promise.”
You squeezed him tighter, a silent thank you.
You stayed like that for a few minutes- standing in silence, rocking each other back and forward in the quiet of the bathroom. Soon, your heart rate slowed down and returned to normal. You could finally breathe again. At some point, Eddie began to hum. You shut your eyes and leaned further into him, letting yourself relax in his gentle hold, letting the smell of cigarette smoke, and laundry soap, and boy overtake you.
A heavy sigh left your lungs. It was a release- a catharsis. You felt Eddie press a kiss to your forehead, and you knew, at the end of everything, that you would be okay.
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x gn!reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson imagine#tw abuse#tw past abuse#tw past trauma#x reader
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Cw: mentions of past abuse, whipping, death
Reactions to tragedy are vastly different from person to person. Whumper knew this and yet, they were still disappointed in what they got out of Whumpee when they showed them the video of them killing Whumpee’s family. Instead of screaming and crying or anger and wrenching at their chains, Whumpee sighed in relief and chuckled to themselves. This was the first keystone moment of their time together after the abduction and Whumper was utterly confused.
Pulling their belt off and whipping between each word out of pure, searing anger, Whumper asked “WHAT. THE. FUCK. IS. WRONG. WITH. YOU?”
Catching their breath, they again asked “What the fuck is wrong with you? I just showed you evidence that I murdered your family. Any normal person would be broken beyond belief. Why?”
Laughing, Whumpee uncurled themselves and took off their shirt to reveal a constellation of cuts and scars.
“You think I would miss the people who did this to me? The only reason I stayed with them was because I wasn’t ready to risk it on the streets.”
Whumper backed out of the room, trying to mask their emotions of disappointment and surprise. This one would be much harder to crack.
#whumpee#whumpblr#whump blog#whump ideas#whump#whump inspiration#whump tropes#whumper#whump community#injured whumpee#defiant whumpee#abuse cw#cw past abuse#tw death#tw abduction#tw past trauma#tw past abuse
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