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#Short Fic
oxymorayuri · 2 days
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❞𝐍𝐨 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬❝
Part six
If you haven't read the first part yet, you can find it here or the overview. ♡♡♡
✦ Pairing: Portgas D. Ace x Reader ✦ Warnings: language, !S.A.! Mainly noises, no exact description of the process, mature content ✦ Spoiler: none
wordcount: 5678
tagging: @lazyninjatheorist - @sassyyassi - @cottoncandyloverrrr - @littleleelee
! ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ !
ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛ
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𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓: yanfenguo_gao
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"Travelling around like ordinary people is a really good thing…" You look over to Ace as he licks his ice cream happily.
Together you walk around the passenger ship. You were lucky to get the last two tickets and now it will be a whole day before you arrive at your destination… Dressrosa.
Even though you are happily licking your ice cream, your eyes are looking around attentively. You may not be on Dressrosa yet, but you're already at work.
"It definitely has its benefits, but I suggest you keep your eyes open Ace…" You stop at the railing and look down from the second floor to the lower deck and watch the people.
You count them and try to separate who you've already seen. Fortunately, with so few people, it's quite clear and in the back of your mind you try to spot any suspicious people.
So far, you've only been able to count 16 people who look like typical travelers. Families gathered on the lower level to watch the fish in the sea or couples strolling across the deck, gazing at the open sea. At the thought, your gaze wanders to the side, to Ace, who is still busy with his ice cream. A reluctant grin forms on your lips as you watch him.
With the ice cream in your hands, you really do look like a normal couple. You don't really know why that makes you smile, after all, that's the plan…
"Hey Ace, let me see the tickets. I'd like to see where our cabin is." He looks at you, a little dumbfounded.
"Cabin?" He reaches into his trouser pocket with one free hand and hands you the tickets.
"Yes, the trip to Dressrosa takes about a day, what did you think?" - "I don't know, I didn't think it would take that long. With the Moby Dick we'd easily be there in five hours…" he remarks while he's busy with his ice cream.
You can't help giggling and shake your head.
"The Moby Dick is a completely different story compared to a ferry." You lean back against the railing and look up at Ace.
"This is a ship for travelers." You watch him stuff the last bit of his waffle into his mouth, while you still have some of your last scoop left and he looks down at you confused.
"We're travelers on the Moby Dick too. I don't see the difference." You look dreamily at the people below you. It's true that you pirates are just travelers too. Travelers in a different way… But on your downward missions you also enjoyed the simple life. Between all the spying, you still had time to enjoy the area, after all, that's part of your facade… And who knows what you'll hear and see around the next corner…
You once sat down in the casino for fun, to strip the spoiled rich. The evening was promising. Gosh, some men are so easy to influence. First you got them to bet more with your seductive manner. Then you challenged them, questioned their wealth and flirted with them. These men have nothing more to do than brag about their money and show off.
How boring... but good for you, because you always win. Not in an honest way, of course, but you sit down at the table with the intention of cheating, so at least you're being honest with yourself. But that evening there was someone at the table who, although he had lost some money, had won something new.
Interest.
He invited you into the private area of the casino, without knowing that you were actually his employee. Crocodile had his eye on you and your cunning manner and wanted to show you that it didn't hurt him one bit, that you had won a handsome amount of money from him.
What he didn't know was that you were already working for him but in a wig, of course.
When you steal from people, you rarely do it as the person you're 'pretending' to be, so you went into your boss's casino with your natural hair. Starting as a guest and ended up in the VIP area by Crocodile's side; It can be that easy...
Crocodile has been a very generous man and even if you hardly want to admit it, you kind of enjoyed it.
He has a very charismatic demeanor and is a sharp businessman. You had a few things in common and the atmosphere was quite pleasant. Being with him made you feel different but in the back of your mind you always remembered that he was your enemy. But the feeling of leading this double life was thrilling.
Of course, as the owner of the casino, lots of interesting people wanted to talk to him. How foolish. Things are discussed in front of you, that a stranger shouldn't hear, but Crocodile was too busy having you by his side as a fancy accessory.
"Hey y/n take a look at these guys."
Ace voice pulls you out of your memory... you don't even know how you got there but it doesn't matter anymore. Your eyes wander to the men Ace is pointing at. Rolling your eyes, you take Ace's arm down.
"Don't point at them like that. If they look up, they'll notice us." You say calmly to him. You look after the men as they disappear from your field of vision and even when you lean over the railing you can no longer see them. You curse slightly to yourself.
"They're gone." Ace mumbles as he does the same and leans over the railing. At the same time, you look each other in the eye and nod.
Without another word, you both head down to the lower floor and try to track down the suspicious figures. Compared to a map of the ship and which way they were going, they must have walked to the private cabins.
The chances are slim, but you won't let any opportunity pass by. You walk along the corridor with quick but silent steps until you reach the end and find yourself in a circular lobby with several rooms. But no sign of the men.
"Hm, we seem to have lost them…" Ace put his hands on his hips and looked at one door after the other. Just before you were about to turn around, one of the doors opened and the shady gentlemen stepped out of the door with two women.
You quickly throw yourself at Ace and lead him to a door nearby so that you don't look suspicious.
You giggle at Ace in a somewhat drunken voice.
"Darliiiiiiing.. don't tell me you left the key at the bar again…" a little surprised, he caught you and looked at the men and immediately understood what was going on. He pulled you closer to him with one arm and searched for the imaginary keys in his pockets as the men walked past you.
"Sorry my love, I was just so lost in your eyes that I forgot them there…" You chuckle lovingly as you wrap your arms around his neck to give him a kiss. You had only meant to make it look like a kiss on the lips, but Ace pulled you towards him so that your kiss landed directly on his mouth.
A little startled, you wanted to push away from him but Ace stopped you by holding your face and whispering a grinning 'play along' on your lips. You realize that it would be conspicuous if you ended your kiss abruptly, but you can't shake the feeling that Ace is shamelessly taking advantage of the situation.
For a brief moment they give you a few glances but they're obviously buying the act.
When they have passed, you break away from Ace and return to a normal stance but speak in your sugary sweet voice.
"Aww honey, then let's go back to the bar and have another drink!" You look at Ace and nod in the men's direction to make it clear that you're following them now.
Together you chase after the four people. At one point, one of the women turns around and you quickly latch onto Ace, gazing up at him lovingly to avoid looking dubious.
As you expected, Ace played along wonderfully. He put his arm around your shoulder and paid attention only to you as if no one else was around you. He even went a step further and gave you a sweet Eskimo kiss with his nose. His teasing grin may be cute on the outside but you can see his real smirk behind it. He's enjoying being close to you for the sake of the show and you immediately blush…
"Look forward and don't fall behind, you stupid bitch." Somewhat roughly, one of the men grabbed the woman by the shoulder and pulled her towards him. You couldn't help but notice the look on her face. A hopeless look.
When their backs are turned to you again, you look at them with skepticism. The gentlemen are well dressed, but you can see a small tattoo on the neck of one of them… Where have you seen this tattoo before? It looks familiar…
The ladies are dolled up like slutty escorts, don't speak a word and are downright terrified. You know what that means and that is, that you need to find out more about them.
At the bar of the restaurant, you watch the small group eating from a safe distance. The women were so frightened that they hardly ate anything or looked up from their plates…
You grit your teeth and turn to Ace.
"This is going to be trickier than I thought. So far they've only talked about unimportant things…" - " Then we'll have to get in touch with the women somehow…" he observes the women with slightly narrowed eyes. It's clear to you that these people play an important role when it comes to your mission.
You rummage for something in your handbag.
"Good idea Ace... the men don't seem stupid enough to talk in public but we can work this out." The black haired man leans towards you while holding onto his drink with one hand.
"What do we do now?" You already have a rough idea, you know that no matter where the women go, they will be watched, but there is one place where they will be alone for a brief moment. The toilet.
You ask the bartender for a pen and paper and write down a few words, folding the paper several times.
"Watch and learn." You lean forward towards Ace and smile at him with a confident wink.
You take one last sip from your glass and slide off the bar stool to go to the toilets. Luckily, the suspects are sitting right on the way there and you fall in a dramatic and skilled fashion, right next to the one woman. You try to hold on to the table but you knock her glass down with you. With flushed cheeks, you look up at her and grab her by the arm to apologize profusely.
You put some money on the table for the spilled drink and take one of her hands and again you apologize sincerely to her while you press your note into her hand under the table.
The gentlemen watch attentively as you place her glass but say nothing and just look you up and down.
"I'm sorry to have disturbed your meal, have a nice day!" and embarrassed, you scurry down the corridor to the toilets.
Behind the door of the ladies room, your embarrassed expression disappears immediately and you head straight for the first toilet to carry out the second part of your plan.
You write a few words on another piece of paper, but this time you write more. You have to hurry because you don't have much time. Their plates are almost empty and when they leave the restaurant there won't be another chance.
Hastily you write the last words in a sloppy handwriting and fold the paper up again. You take one of the spy buds out of your handbag and tape it together with the note to the lid of the toilet. Then you leave the lid up so that nobody will see it…
In the meantime, Ace watches as the woman carefully read the note you gave her under the table. Without looking at it, she hides the note in her nylons.
When you came out of the bathroom and sat down next to Ace, you heard her say that she needed to use the toilet and one of the men wiped his mouth in annoyance.
"You women are annoying, I'll be glad when this job is done…"
"Get up and go ahead," he said as he stood up as well.
They both disappeared in the direction of the ladies room and, as you assumed, the guy didn't even have the shame to wait outside. He went into the restroom with her, but you know it's unlikely he'll go into the stall with her.
You turn your back to the remaining people and swirl your glass.
"What kind of performance was that? That was awesome and absolutely natural!" Ace is visibly surprised by your little act.
"That's a piece of cake." - "A piece of cake?! Even I thought you fell down for real y/n… that was incredible." With a proud grin, you clink glasses with each other.
"Now we just have to wait and see if she plays along." - "I believe she does. She hid your note in her tights, I think she definitely doesn't want to be there."
Your gaze wanders to the side but you don't answer him. Even if she wants to cooperate, you won't be able to help her. If you help her escape, it could cause trouble and endanger the actual mission.
Your goal is not to be a hero, but to play an informant. Just like for those men there, she's just a mere tool for your own benefit… You feel a little sick to yourself, you know what's waiting for these girls in the end and you don't wish it on anyone, but either you bring Doflamingo down and stop this slave trade completely, or you save two girls and get caught.
You have to make that decision. You're not proud of it but honestly it's never been hard for you because you know that the actual goal would help a lot more people.
Also, if you are exposed, then people will keep an eye on the Whitebeard pirates and that would be unfortunate for you…
You don't even notice how you're biting your lip the whole time. It's a little habit of yours, especially when you're deep in thought.
"What are you thinking about?" It doesn't go unnoticed how you chew your bottom lip. Amused, he nudges you with his elbow as you still don't react. A little startled, you look up at him and blush as you stare into his eyes. Ace sitting next to you while you're on a mission is still strange. You're used to being alone and having Ace as your partner doesn't make it any better…
"Just that you might be right." You look ahead. You keep your true thoughts to yourself for now.
"Really?" A little too happy for your taste, Ace smiles to himself as he looks into his glass.
"Tell me, what did you write on the note?" - "On the first one, that if she's in danger, she should go to the bathroom. I left her another message in the first stall…" You carefully take the second earphone out of your pocket and hold it up to Ace's face. He raises his eyebrow a little as though he can't fully understand.
"I offered her a deal." You pause for a moment, secretly knowing you won't keep this deal. It's all for the bigger picture, you keep telling yourself.
"If she makes the deal, we'll be able to eavesdrop on them later when they're in their private rooms." You play with the earphone between your fingers like it's a marble. It makes click in Ace's head and he gets the idea.
"That's perfect! Sooner or later they'll talk!" Ace is clearly looking overjoyed, as if the job is already done.
"Not quite yet… When they leave, I'll see what kind of answer she leaves me…" You nod toward the restrooms and Ace nods in agreement. Chances are good, but inside you're preparing a plan B.
After a while, as your possible accomplice came back out of the restroom with the other man, all four of them left the restaurant.
The moment of truth has arrived. Will she play along?
You wait a moment until they are out of sight and get up.
"Pay the bill… after I get back we should head to our room." Ace nods at you and calls the bartender over.
Your heart is pounding as you open the door to the stall. Will you have an easy game or will you have to come up with a new plan?
You briefly squint your eyes as you close the door behind you. For a moment, you hesitate before looking at her answer.
If she goes along with it, she should flush your letter down the toilet and put the earphone in. If not, she should tear up your letter and throw it in the bin.
You hold your breath without realizing as you open the trash can... There is no letter in there.
Satisfied, you exhale. She is playing along.
You quickly make your way back to Ace, who is still waiting for you at the bar. He looks at you intensely as if he wants to read the answer from your face.
"And?"
"Let's go into our room and discuss everything else."
As soon as you arrive in your room, you get everything ready.
You place a Den Den Mushi on a table and plug in your one earphone. You flick a few switches on the snail so that their voices can be heard aloud but no one can hear you. You don't want her to hear what you say or find out who you are. A name alone would be already bad... If the men discover the earpiece, the risk of her talking is too high. The less she knows about you, the better.
Ace watched you connect the equipment, as if you had done it thousands of times before and sat down on the bed.
When you're done, you drop down next to him on the bed and stare at the speaker. For a while you stare at the snail as it plays the voices of the men. So far the conversations have been meaningless, but you are aware that this can take a while. They probably won't talk while the women are awake.
The silence is interrupted when Ace's stomach makes itself heard. Embarrassed, he grips the back of his neck and mumbles a quiet 'sorry'. The blush on his face makes you giggle because he's really adorable whenever he's embarrassed.
You think for a moment... It would also do you some good to eat, so you crawl to the other side of the bed, because there was a phone on the nightstand. Ace's eyes follow you discreetly as you reach across the bed. His gaze travels up your long legs to your ass.
Oh, how he would love to grab you by the hips and push your dress up so he could look at your ass. Your lovely curves shimmer slightly through your dress, but he pulls himself together and banishes his desires.
Now is not the right time and he doesn't want to mess things up with you. The day will come when you belong to him, he will make sure of that, but he knows how important this mission is to you. He knows how much you enjoy your job and, above all, how well you do it.
Your voice brings him out of his thoughts and the only thing he catches is you saying goodbye and putting the phone down.
"The food should be here in half an hour, I hope your stomach can hold out until then." You plop down next to him again and lean over to him with a broad smirk.
At first he seemed a little surprised, but this expression quickly changed on his face and his lips curled into a mischievous grin instead.
"Maybe you could distract me a little…" His voice is so seductive and low… you suddenly get quite warm and open your mouth but no words come out. Should you go along and take it to the extreme or should you break the atmosphere?
You think of Marco's words; you shouldn't deepen these feelings, they lead to nothing.
But the desire is great. Unconsciously, you lean further forward and look at him with innocent eyes.
"What would you like?" You won't grant him that he's the one in control. Let him tell you about his fantasies… Maybe you'll like it? You don't have to do it, but hearing it will be good for your self esteem.
He exhales with a small laugh and looks down.
His fingers search for a bare spot on your body and you allow him to caress your thigh.
Just as he was about to open his mouth, you hear the men through the Den Den Mushi.
"When are we meeting with the guy tomorrow?" Your eyes shoot over to the snail and both of you are completely back to work. You reach for your notebook, it could be getting interesting now.
You interlace your fingers and listen attentively to their conversation.
"He said we should come straight to the moulin rouge to deliver the goods." - "Okay, very good." A short pause follows and you write down the name. Moulin rouge… writing it down you add 'address' with a question mark. You assume it's a brothel or something similar, but Dressrosa is big…
"Tell me Johnny, why don't we test the 'goods' before we deliver them?" Your stomach is churning, you sense something bad.
A dirty laugh sounds through the speaker, followed by desperate screams from the women. With contorted faces, you listen to the panicked and tormented cries until Ace decides to turn off the snail.
"I'm sorry y/n but one more second and I'll break down their door…" Ace clenches his fists, he's about to storm off but you get up and grab his hands to calm him down.
"Yeah yeah, I know… but we'll make sure everyone gets free…" As long as they're not already sold to a rich buyer... but you won't let Ace know that.
At your gentle voice, Ace's body begins to relax and his jaw unclenches. You can understand him, it was cruel to listen to. Even though you would have liked to know more than just a name, you could no longer listen to these desperate cries. You were only a second away and then you would have turned off the Den Den Mushi yourself.
After the food was brought to you, you worked on a few notes you had made about the day. You've added questions that you hope will be answered on the mission, something that helps you keep track of things, and without you realizing it, Ace looks over your shoulder as he stuffs his face with food.
"Aren't you hungry at all?" he remarks as he looks at your barely touched plate.
You literally wake up from your work mode and find yourself in a room with Ace. He recognizes your slight confusion and looks at your plate. You look at your plate a little slowly and your stomach turns immediately, feeling starved.
"Ah yes, you're right…" You put the notes aside and start eating.
Ace joins you at the small table and you eat together while you talk about all sorts of things. Ace almost glows as he talks about his brothers and their adventures. With your chin in your hand, you listen to him attentively. You enjoy this carefree moment with Ace.
"Tell me y/n what happened before the Whitebeard pirates? Where's your family?" You lean back in your chair with a somewhat troubled look on your face. You don't like talking about the time before the Whitebeard Pirates… For you, your life started when you followed Whitebeard.
Ace doesn't miss the change and seems a little panicked as he assures you that you don't have to tell him. That's exactly why you don't want to get involved with Ace. The closer the bond, the more you confide in him.
So far, all you've experienced is separation and a feeling of vulnerability. You've shown them your weak side and that's what you want to avoid now.
"It's okay… It's just that I don't like talking about it…" You look up at him a little uncertainly.
"And you don't have to, I promise. I don't want to pressure you into anything." His eyes seem honest and you believe him without hesitation.
"You'd better tell me why Whitebeard adores you so much… I can understand why, but he really does treat you like his own daughter." You grin to yourself. You don't know exactly either.
"I really have no clue…" You yawn a little, it's already quite late.
"We should go to bed, the ship docks tomorrow morning and we have to get the other earbud before we dock, which means we have to get up early." - "Ah yes, that's right, the woman has the other earphone…"
You disappear into the bathroom with your sleeping clothes to change and get ready for bed. When you came back into the room, you saw Ace about to go to bed. In just his undershorts...
With his back leaning against the headboard, he covered himself with a blanket while his whole upper body was exposed. Putting his arms behind his head, he smiled at you mockingly.
"Are you coming to bed my love?" You roll your eyes and get under the covers.
"Stop messing around Ace. There's no one here we have to fool." You lie down with your back to Ace and try to sleep. From the side, you hear Ace's little sigh and you notice him lying down.
"I'm not messing around…" His hands reach out to pull you close to him and he buries his face in your hair.
Your body tenses but you don't feel able to fight back and let Ace embrace you.
"I'm sorry y/n but you always smell so good. Your smell drives me crazy…" His hand wanders under your shirt and he gently strokes your skin.
Even if he had planned not to get too close to you, he can't resist his desire to touch you. These feelings just keep building up as soon as you're within reach. Without much thought, he enjoys the feeling of your skin as he runs his hand over your curves.
"Your skin is so smooth like a sweet peach, it makes me addicted." His lips are right by your ear as he whispers the words in a voice filled with pleasure. His raspy voice gives you chills and without you being able to stop it, your body moves to match his gentle touch.
"Ace please, stop…" The way you're grinding your ass against him, doesn't make you look like you want him to stop.
His skillful hands move carefully from your thighs up to your breasts and he gently begins to knead them. Tender sounds escaped your lips as Ace began to tug slowly on your already hard nipple. He began to feast on your neck and placed countless kisses, causing you to arch your back.
"Are you sure you want me to stop?"
You suck in the air a little shakily. How can a kiss be so intense? But you can't give in. You have to hold your ground.
"Yes… Please… Please stop…" Your voice is almost pleading, but the excitement is hard to ignore.
"What if I don't stop?" His hand moves further down, towards your underwear.
Yeah, then what? You ask yourself but you do nothing... His finger plays with the thin band of your slip and lets the rubber snap against your sensitive skin.
Fingertips disappear lightly under your underwear and brush over your skin without going directly between your already drenched folds.
"Mhhm… y/n you make me so hard…" It was a mistake to share a cabin with him, if this continues Ace will have you in the palm of his hand. His soft moans drive you crazy. How do you get out of this situation?
"Ace, this is not a good idea…" You try to talk some sense into him while you enjoy his touch with your eyes closed.
"What's not a good idea?" - "If we sleep together…" Ace's erection against your back increases your desire, to get on top of him and let him fuck you all night. You can almost feel it, the sensation of his magnificent piece filling your greedy pussy…
You shamelessly move your butt up and down and rub his dick, to which Ace reacts with a satisfied moan. He grabs your thigh a little roughly and pushes you closer to him so that his cock presses between your butt cheeks.
His massive boner feels like it's about to pop out of his underpants and you would love to suck his life out of him. Automatically, the saliva gathers in your mouth…
After you had sex on the beach, you had all kinds of dreams about giving him the blowjob of his life and if there were no feelings involved, you wouldn't hesitate for a second.
You open your eyes and try to control your unsteady breathing. It's not fair what he's doing to you.
You turn to him and push him into the bed to sit on him. You are already familiar with this sight… His gaze seems a little hazy, as if he's drunk on you.
Ace enjoys the view; How your nipples stiffen, how your chest goes up and down because of your rapid breathing and when he looks down at you he recognizes the wet spot on your slip. He breathes out a little heavily at the sight of you… Your eyes look at him a little angrily, but he recognizes the blazing lust behind them.
He bites his lip as he watches you struggle. He's glad you feel the same way and no matter what you say against it, your body speaks the truth.
Your breathing is still a little heavy as you sit on top of him, but Ace's smirk is back on his lips.
"That brings back memories…" - "I know! And for a while I couldn't think of anything else but we shouldn't do this…"
He comes up to you and grabs you by the arms while you're still sitting on his lap.
"Why shouldn't we do this y/n??!" His voice is very serious but you can feel the desperation behind it.
"I can't trust your longing…" He rests his forehead on yours and lets his shoulders drop a little. He feels a ashamed. You've already had a similar conversation and he assured you back then, that he was waiting for you and now?
He has broken his word and touched you as he pleased. He curses himself. He probably got too greedy when you came to bed wearing just a shirt.
His fingers found their way to your skin all by themselves and at a certain point he couldn't stop himself. He knows he's not alone with these feelings, but he doesn't understand why you won't let him near you...
He doesn't want to scare you off, but when you're this close to him, he has the urge to touch you…
He puts his arms around you and buries his face in your nape. Your arms automatically go around him and you lean your head on his.
"I'm sorry y/n." he whispers to you. You can hear the sincerity in his voice and you want to tell him how much you long for him too, but you're not ready to take that step.
"If you want, we could cuddle…" You say the words a little shyly. Will it do you any good? Certainly not, but seeing Ace like this isn't something you want either.
"Really? You're okay with that?" He looks up at you happily and searches your eyes to see if you're serious. You nod at him with a gentle smile and he breaks away from you to lie down with his arms outstretched.
He taps on the empty space next to him and looks at you gleefully. You can't help but laugh and snuggle up to him.
Feeling your skin is the most important thing for Ace, even if it's just your little finger.
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A/N: Haahhhh… I don't know guys... somehow I love this chapter but somehow I don't? lol. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed it <3
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defectivehero · 1 day
Note
Hello! If ur requests are open, I'd love to see a villain or hero trying to break down the walls of their enemy, who's whole purpose is to be a tool. Denied everything for the sake of a single goal, a mere sacrifice, destined to die :)
this ask is so peko pekoyama & izuru kamakura coded. and i love it so much. warnings: manipulation, child abuse, graphic depictions of injury/violence/blood, dehumanization
"Ah, you're awake," the villain realizes aloud, looking at the hero. "I was hoping to get some answers from you."
The hero is silent. They look surprisingly calm, despite the situation they find themself in: bound to a chair, a blindfold secured around their eyes. They don't look unnerved, startled; there's no emotion in their expression—no modicum of energy or presence to denote them as even remotely human.
Admittedly, this hero has intrigued the villain, ever since the moment they met. The hero had moved with a mechanical precision, and the villain was surprised to find that their precision extended to every other facet of their life. There is no boundary between work and personal life for the hero—because they simply don't have a personal life. At least, that's what the villain has found. They'd love to be proven wrong at this point—would love to be proven wrong about their lingering suspicions regarding the cruelty of the local hero agency.
"What did you want to ask about?" The hero asks, as if they are the one controlling the conversation. And maybe they are. The villain blinks, thrown back into reality.
"Why are you...?" The villain tries to say. They're not quite sure how to proceed. They take a slow breath and start pacing around the hero, hoping to quell their restless energy. They are the one in control. "No. What did the agency do to you?"
"Why do you care?" The hero hums. There isn't a denial of any kind—"They didn't do anything to me" wasn't a response. The villain's stomach stews in unease.
"Answer the question," the villain demands.
"Very well," the hero answers carefully.
In hindsight, the villain should've braced themself for the answer. They were so focused on the question that they neglected to prepare themself for the nearly infinite amount of possibilities—unspeakably cruel possibilities. They're suddenly grateful that they blindfolded the hero—grateful that the hero won't be able to see their expression. Because what they say next breaks the villain’s composure.
"I was seven when it happened… My powers manifested. I didn't know how to use them. It was bound to happen."
"...What was bound to happen?" The villain hears themself say. Their voice sounds like a stranger’s.
"I was kidnapped walking home from school. One moment, there was a sharp pain on the back of my head; the next, I woke up to a glass cage and a manacle secured around my ankle."
The villain is biting the inside of their cheek so hard they can taste blood. They shouldn't be surprised, but they are.
"I didn't know where I was or what was happening. I was just a child." The hero continues. The villain wants to think that there's a trace of emotion in the hero's voice after the latter statement, but they get the feeling it's just their imagination.
"For a while, I was alone. I don't know how long. I tried to summon my powers, but they still weren't under control. I nearly killed myself in my attempt to escape.
"Then, someone visited. It was a man in a dark suit. He unlocked the cage, or manipulated it, I can't remember—and walked up to me. There was a glass of water in his hand. I was so thirsty.
"I was too young to know any different, too young to question what was clearly a kind gesture. I took a sip... My vision spiraled and I fell to the ground.
"I woke up on an operating table, with people staring down at me through advanced medical equipment. Tears were slipping down my cheeks, from the brightness of the lights above. Someone secured a mask on my face. I tried to stay awake, but I couldn't move.
"I woke up on the floor of my cage, in a pool of my own blood. There was a giant wound on my forearm, leaking pus. I dry-heaved over and over again. Nothing came up.
"I got a lot of visitors after that. It was clear that they did something to me. Suddenly, I was getting meals three times a day, books and video games to keep me busy... I must've been eight or nine years old at that point—old enough to understand that I was nothing more than a lab rat."
It takes them several moments for the villain to find their voice. "...And then?" They manage to ask. They stopped pacing minutes ago—now they're standing across from the bound hero.
"Then I was trained," the hero says. "Brought to the brink of my exhaustion over and over again, day after day. Months passed, then years... like granules of sand slipping through my fingers."
"I was soon trusted to participate in missions. I didn't know what was happening, why I was fighting who I was fighting. All I knew... was the hollowness in my chest and the commands inscribed on my mind itself."
The villain is silent. They don't trust themself to speak—they know their voice would break, betraying their thoughts.
At some point, the hero is the one to break the silence. They tilt their head to the side slightly, leveling the villain with what they can assume to be a curious gaze under the blindfold. "Why have you captured me? Do you hope to rehabilitate me?"
"It won't work," the hero says before the villain can answer. Somehow, they've ascertained that their capture was motivated by that exact desire: the wish for rehabilitation, the visceral need to do something good for someone other than themself. "They have broken me beyond repair." The hero's voice is hollow.
"Everyone can be fixed," the villain responds.
"But I am not a person. I am just a shell, an empty husk. An amalgamation of observations on human behavior, with no memories, no passions, no opinions. I don't even have a name."
Somehow, this is what breaks them. Somehow, the villain survived the onslaught of horrible information, suffered through the retelling of dehumanizing events and cruelty beyond measure. Yet this is what breaks them: the hero does not have a name. A name: a concept so simple. Even animals have names—they are ascribed names by humans. What does it say that this person has no name? They have been deemed lower than humans, lower than animals. They are merely a tool. A weapon.
The villain's thoughts are spiraling. They feel themself moving before they can stop. They robotically break the distance between the two of them, until they're standing over the hero. The hero must sense their proximity, but they do not respond—do not even flinch or move. The villain bites the inside of their cheek hard and begins untying the ropes around the hero's limbs.
"What are you doing?" The hero asks. They sound vaguely surprised. But the villain is nearly certain it’s just an act.
"Leave," the villain demands, their hands shaking ever so slightly as they finish freeing the hero. "Go."
There's a brief flicker of emotion on the hero's face—a quick flash of complete, utter confusion. It happens so fast that the villain can just barely comprehend it, can just barely grasp that the hero may, deep down, have the freedom to express genuine emotion. But as quick as it appears, the confusion is gone: smoothed over by an infuriatingly blank slate.
The villain watches the hero leave. The moment the door clicks shut, the bile on their tongue rises and they dry-heave. They cough and take deep breaths, feeling their throat burn with more than just acid. Unshed tears linger in their eyes, in the back of their throat.
Is the hero past saving? More importantly, do they even want to be saved?
The villain rubs a hand over their face and walks back to the wooden chair where the hero sat moments ago, kicking it over in a rush of pure frustration. It slides across the floor with a horrible screeching noise.
The villain is overcome with an intense desire to do something rather uncharacteristic: they want to free the hero from the agency's chains. And, hell, it's not out of a foolish desire to do something good. Not anymore. Somewhere, deep down, the villain wants the person they just spoke to—who has only known cruelty—to be given a chance to truly live.
It's ironic. The villain has been fighting heroes for years, unaware that the real evil has been under their nose this entire time. Because, while the heroes may be purveyors of justice, the nature of that "justice" is determined by the agency. It's the agency that contributes to the systemic oppression running rampant in their city, it's the agency that manufactures people and turns them into weapons.
The villain clenches their restless hands at their sides. It seems they have to make a slight change to their plans.
©2024, @defectivehero | @defectivevillain, All Rights Reserved. reblogs are greatly appreciated—just please don't steal my writing or share outside of Tumblr.
i can't tell if i'm happy with how this turned out or not. i feel like the ending kind of sucks, but whatever. it is what it is.
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bunniesanddeer · 2 months
Text
Touch- Pt 1
Alastor x GN!Reader
Part Two
Plot: Alastor realizes the reader is starting to get comfortable touching the other residents of the hotel, despite their discomfort with touch before. He suddenly realizes that he is not receiving any of these touches, and it annoys him.
Tags: GN! Reader, fluff, angst, short fic.
Word Count: 1,049
Touch Pt. 1
He had never noticed it before, but now that it had been mentioned, he couldn’t stop noticing it. Every time someone leaned too close, or went to bump you, you leaned away, or shrunk in on yourself. It was a visual reaction that lit up his brain; something close to kinship. You were much like him, in the way you cringed at the slightest, unprovoked touch. Unlike himself, however, you never seemed to initiate it, either. 
Alastor could see why someone like you wouldn’t bother. You didn’t have the power to make people back off if you made it seem like you were okay with casual touches. Better to avoid them altogether!
Alastor was confused, however, when you seemed to suddenly grow more… tactile with the others. It had been just before dinner, Alastor had Niffty setting the table, and everyone was slowly gathering near the dining room. 
“Gosh, how do you even do that, Angel?” You exclaimed. Your face was colored in your bafflement and disgust, even as you let a laugh out. “That’s just, overkill!”
“Just say that you’re jealous, toots. We both know ya’ wouldn’t be able ta’ handle that,” Angel said, leaning his large frame down to wiggle his eyebrows in your face. 
You were laughing again. The sound always caught Alastor’s attention. Even down in Hell, you managed to have a very happy sounding laugh. It felt strange and out of place, but not bad, per se. (Alastor did not like to linger on the ‘why's’ of such thoughts. There was no point. The one time he had, it had spiraled out of control. Not again). 
When Alastor turned to look, he always did, not that he would admit it, your hands were on Angel's face, pushing him back with a grin. 
“Keep yourself away from me, you weirdo! You gotta have like a snake jaw to do that. I want nothing to do with it!” Your hands were still on Angel. Why? You didn’t like touch. Why were you doing it now?
That moment plagued him for a few days, especially as he noticed you touching Angel more. Were you and the effeminate fellow an item? He thought for sure that Angel’s tastes swung the other direction. His theory was smashed to smithereens when he saw you and Husker later on.
You were helping Husker clean smashed glass from the ground, listening to the cat-demon talk. It was often Husker listening to others, so the sight cough Alastor’s attention. He lingered off to the side, and watched, as he was wont to do.
Something the demon said made your eyebrows furrow, and sympathy flit across your face. Alastor watched your lips move, as if you were speaking softly. Then your arm was across Husker’s shoulder, a soft squeeze pulling him against you, for only a moment.
The moment was said and done in mere seconds, but it idled in Alastor’s memory. He could not fathom why things had changed. It only got worse as he realized you were doing it with near everyone in the hotel. Charlie got soft shoulder pats, and light hugs. Vaggie received fist-bumps, (what a strange gesture), and some small hugs. Angel got hip checked and often pulled into impromptu wrestling matches, (he could always hear Angel complain about them, but he never bothered to try and stop you. Maybe the spider didn’t hate it?) Sir Pentious, the cowardly snake, was allowed to pick you up and move you sometimes. Niffty got head pats, and she got picked up by you, sometimes. Husker received the least amount of physical contact, but there were moments where the cat’s tail would brush up against you, or you would squeeze his hand.
Over the course of a few weeks, Alastor couldn’t fathom why everyone else in the hotel was receiving these tender touches from you? He couldn’t tell what the change was. You were still your chipper self, and you helped out as normal. Nothing had changed except the way you interacted with the others. And then it hit him. Others. Your interactions with him hadn’t changed in the slightest.
Your smiles were always soft, and you still laughed at his jokes. You still got spooked when he snuck up on you, and you still shied away when his anger made his form change. He couldn’t spot a single difference! It was after a particularly long day of dealing with Vox, that things hit a tipping point.
Alastor had just gotten back to the hotel, having torn apart goons sent to bother him. Vox was always pulling stupid things like that, but it was more annoying when his technique was suddenly being ridiculed on every screen in Hell! He had managed to send a nasty message to Vox at the end of it all, but it remained a dampener on his day. And then he had spotted you, milling about in the lobby.
“Good afternoon!” He had practically yelled, forcing exuberance into his voice. “How are you this fine afternoon, dear?”
You whipped around, a smile already on your face. “Hi, Alastor! I’m doing okay.” Then a wince washed over your expression. “Saw that stuff on TV, earlier. Hope you got back at him, for it.”
Ah, of course you would mention it. Always worried about how others feel. (He would tell himself that it meant nothing. Because it did. Mean nothing, that is). 
“Of course I did, my dear! The belligerent fool will remember today as a failure, for sure!” He had finally made it over towards you, and had moved to pull you against his side, when you ducked under his arms, stepping a few feet back. 
But you just kept talking to him, like you hadn't moved! The static of his power surging made your words blur in his mind. He couldn’t hear a single word as his mind raced. How dare you? Was he not good enough? Why did each of the others get to touch you now, but he was a problem?
It was the frown on your face that pulled him back down. “Are you okay,” you asked, your face full of concern for him. It didn’t help. 
When Alastor had finally waived away your worries, he had shadow-stepped to his room. He needed to think.
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the-modern-typewriter · 2 months
Note
Hello! I love your writing so much! It always gives me such a good chill and I absolutely adore the way the words all flow together! May I request a hero trying to escape from a villain and when the villain finally catches them there's a bit where they lift the hero's chin with a sword?
"Ah, good," the villain drawled. "You managed to apprehend our little runaway."
The hero grunted in pain, as the guards threw them down onto their knees. Their gaze darted around the room - a war room of maps and schemes too high up on the table for them to see properly, the dulled silver of the guards uniforms, and the perfectly polished leather boots standing not far ahead of them.
"Though not," the villain said, "without a little bloodshed, I see? Take yourself to the infirmary tent. I can handle him from here."
The hero's jaw clenched. They kept their head bowed, doing their best to keep their face obscured.
"My lord," the guard said.
As the room emptied, the hero tested the tightness of the ropes binding their wrists and ankles. They strained for the knots. No good. Before they could even start to rise, the villain had drawn their sword with a soft shick and pressed it to the hero's throat in one swift move.
"Suddenly shy?" the villain asked. "I was expecting spitted defiance and glares. Maybe some elegant spiel at what a monster I am and how I will never get away with this."
The hero said nothing.
The villain hummed, using the tip of the blade to tilt the hero's head up.
The hero braced themselves as their gazes met.
The villain froze.
The hero's lip curled; a smile most mocking.
"Guards!" the villain yelled.
The guards returned immediately from outside, even as the villain's attention stayed locked on the hero's face.
"Would you like to tell me," the villain's voice was silken, dangerous, "why you've captured the wrong person?"
"I - my lord?"
"This is not the prince. Do you not know your own prince?" the villain asked.
"But they - they wielded the royal blade, my lord - they -"
Power, dark and ominous, ripped through the room like a thousand shadowy swords appearing in the air.
The guards fell silent.
"Fooled ya," the hero rasped. "Sucker."
"Go to where you found them," the villain ordered. "The prince can't have got far-"
The guards stayed silent. They didn't move. The smile on the hero's lips grew a little more.
"What?" the villain snapped.
"They put up - that is - the fight and the chase went on for some time, my lord." The head guard sounded strained. "Any of their tracks would have been destroyed by our own. The prince is long gone, my lord."
The power struck in an instant.
The lead guard dropped, dripping blood from a thousand blade cuts. The hero managed not to flinch. Somehow.
"Would somebody like to try that again?" the villain asked.
"We'll find him, my lord," another guard said, pasty with sweat. "We'll go and look now."
Most of the guards left, on that hopeless errand. Someone dragged the head guard's body out. His blood was already beginning to turn inky.
The hero felt light-headed with a mixture of triumph and terror, as they eyed the villain over the hilt of their sword. The villain studied them in turn.
The running, after all, had been genuine. Escape had always been the plan. Still. They supposed the ruse had fulfilled its purpose either way, just so long as no one was stupid enough to come back for them.
"Who are you?" the villain demanded.
The hero shrugged.
The villain pressed the blade in a little harder. "Who. Are. you."
"I'm your tailor's assistant."
"...excuse me?"
"I help mend your clothes and the clothes of your soldiers," the hero said. "Thrilling, isn't it?"
The villain stared at the hero like they thought they might be joking. They weren't.
"You were skilled enough with a blade to fool my highest ranking officers."
The hero shrugged again.
The villain used the blade to tilt the hero's head the other way. "You really do look remarkably similar to the prince, on first glance."
"Bet you regret killing your own men in a strop now."
The villain draw the blade down again, opening the smallest wound. Blood pooled in the hero's collar bone, shimmering a faint, barely there silver.
"You're one of the king's bastards," the villain said.
The hero resisted the urge to swallow.
The villain's eyes narrowed, liquid shadow, as they seemed to consider their options, before a truly terrible smile flashed across their face. Charming. Beguiling.
They looked up at their guards.
"Take our little runaway to my quarters. Do make sure that they're secure this time, won't you?"
They definitely should have ran faster.
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loviatarsluv · 3 months
Text
The Last Vampire Spawn
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inspired by this post by @fangsandfeels as well as this gorgeous art by @ria-neearts above that may or may not have made me sob at work when I saw it :)
also inspired by my dire need to hug this poor baby in this scene in particular and give him literally any sort of comfort because god knows he needs it 😭
Astarion x gn!tav / Astarion x gn!reader
SPOILER WARNING! act 3 and the climax of Astarion’s quest line!
CW: violence, death, anguish, angst, blood, gore
rating: sfw (still mature for the listed content above)
in summary: Astarion finally kills cazador and bro needs a hug and a therapist fr
this one is very short I don’t even know the word count lol
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Astarion’s guttural and enraged wails echo against the stone walls of the crypt, nearly drowning the sounds of Cazador’s failed attempts at gurgled shrieks as the dagger pierced his body over, and over, and over.
You stand at the bottom of the stairs and watch, gripping onto Halsin as he wraps a comforting arm around your shoulders as the three of you watch in horror while Astarion lets out two hundred years worth of pain, and agony, and hatred into every single thrust of the blade through his old master’s body. Hot tears sting your face as you watch on, tension filling the gaps of silence between your companions.
The vampire lord’s body falls limp before Astarion, bloodied and covered in viscera, lifeless. He takes a deep breath, falling back on his feet as his knees dig into the bloody marble floor. Sobs wrack through his body as he looks down with disdain at the corpse before him.
You exchange a glance with Halsin, a deeply unsettled and concerned face set into his features that wasn’t typical for his usually calm and collected persona. He looks between you and Astarion, and with just a glance, you realize what he’s thinking.
Before you can stop yourself, you run to Astarion, kneeling beside him. He’s too distraught to notice your presence beside him, so you place a gentle hand on his shoulder. He jolts slightly at your touch, then turns his face - his bloody, tear stained, and ever beautiful face to you, crimson eyes filled with a million emotions you couldn’t even begin to comprehend.
“I’m here, my love. It’s over. You did it,” you whisper, voice trembling and breaking.
His eyes scan your face frantically, chest rising and falling rapidly and anxiously, his breathing ragged and uneven - he looks at you, and you look back at him, as you try to force a reassuring smile through your own tears.
His face twists into an even deeper scowl as his eyes dart between you and the ruined corpse crumpled on the floor next to you.
“His death isn’t enough. It’ll never be enough.” He growls, his fists clenching onto the fabric of his breeches.
You stare at him, speechless. You know that no words could suffice or possibly begin to dull the pain that was evident in his face.
“I suffered through two hundred years of pain and starvation and torture… and all I’ve gotten from it all was being the one to see the light leave that monster’s eyes,” he whispers angrily, tears still rapidly streaming down his blood covered cheeks. “It isn’t fair.”
You tentatively move your face so that your eyes meet his once again, nearly afraid of what you’ll see when you do.
His eyes scan your face for a moment, and he presses his lips into a thin line.
“And where were you twenty years ago? A hundred? Where were you when I was new? When I was one of those innocent young men you’d come to the rescue for?” He barks, his voice booming and bouncing off of the stone walls and into your ears making your head pound.
“Astarion—“
“How dare you! How dare you come to me now… when I’m this!” He wails, his voice cracking on the last word, his shoulders slumping.
Hot tears return to your waterline and pour over your lashes as you wrap your arms around him, pulling him into your chest and cradling his head.
He presses his face into your chest, eventually wrapping his arms around your waist and melting into you, causing you to fall backwards slightly as he practically lays on your body, sobbing into your gear. He grips the back of your shirt as if his life depended on it, even though for the first time in what felt like a while, perhaps it didn’t.
Because despite the roiling dread in his gut - he was free. At long last.
You tangle your fingers into his hair, gently rubbing circles into his bare back as you let him cry. Sob. Scream. For as long as he needs.
The others slowly migrate closer, but not too close, not wanting to interrupt or intrude, just silently exchanging sympathetic glances, and a flash of pride across Karlach’s face as she looks on.
After what felt like hours, Astarion goes quiet, his breath slowly evening out. He sniffles, then slowly lifts his head so his eyes meet yours.
You place a hand on his cheek, wiping a tear away with your thumb. He closes his eyes, savoring your touch, and sighs.
“He’s gone,” he whispers, almost too quietly for you to hear. As if he were mostly whispering it to himself. “He’s really gone…”
You nod, rubbing small circles on his cheek with your thumb. “I am so, so proud of you.”
He offers you a small, weak smile, that you return in kind. You place a kiss to the spot between his furrowed brows, his tense body relaxing only slightly into your touch. He still feels coiled up like a serpent ready to strike, still heavily on guard despite Cazador and his minions being long gone. You presume it will be a long while before he truly relaxes, but you feel more than willing and ready to be there every step of the way.
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leahsgf · 3 months
Text
cuddles
lucy bronze x reader
summary. your girlfriend can’t sleep, and you’re the only fix
warnings. slightly suggestive language. other than that it’s just entirely fluff
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lucy sighed softly as she blinked at the alarm clock on her bedside table, and the realisation that yet another hour had passed without her being able to drift off hit her. glancing down at your sleeping frame, a smile creeped onto her face - as you lay in her arms, pretty much out like a light. you had knocked out practically the second your head had hit your pillow (her) and had stayed that way for the last now three hours.
your cheek was pressed firmly against her chest, your mouth hanging open ever so slightly, allowing soft snores (that she adored, and would never dare tell you about) to slip past every now and again. simply just letting her eyes glance over you, even in complete darkness, made her heart flutter, and the way you were sprawled on top of her, with your arms loosely wrapped around her, only made her smile widen - and caused her to wonder how she ended up with someone as effortlessly beautiful as you were - even when dead asleep, you were breathtaking.
there was no denying that lucy was truly and utterly whipped for you - a fact that everybody around her knew, you included. she would do anything for you, without question.
you began to stir the instant that her fingers subconsciously found your hair, and she panicked internally, not wanting to wake you - pulling you tighter into her embrace and moving her hands to rub soothing circles into the curve of your back, praying that you would settle back down again without fuss.
but to no avail.
“luce? what are you doing up?” you grumbled into her, lifting your head slightly as your girlfriend just shushed you and continued to caress your back in response.
“can’t sleep.” she whispered into your hair, placing a kiss there before you nodded, shifting slightly to press your face into the crook of her neck, and peck softly at the skin that was left uncovered by her hoodie. “what time is it?”
“like two.” she sighed.
“god. how long have you been up?” you asked in between kisses, stroking at her arm mindlessly.
“i never fell asleep - couldn’t switch off. dunno why.” she replied, a slight shrug following her words.
“what? baby why didn’t you wake me up?” you suddenly sat up on her lap, pouting and staring into her sleepless eyes, searching for an explanation.
“you looked so peaceful.” she murmured, cupping your cheeks and pulling you back down to meet your lips. “didn’t want to disturb you sweetheart, especially when there’s no reason to.”
“i’d happily have disturbed sleep anytime for you luce. you know that.” you argued gently, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world - a small smile crossing your features as you pulled away from her a little.
“i know darling, you’re too good to me, thank you. well, gimme cuddles, maybe it’ll help.”
“you don’t even have to ask, silly. come here.” you chirped, sleep returning to scratch at your voice as you dropped your head back down into its previous position, resting in her neck. “did you try counting sheep?”
“i don’t think that has ever worked for anyone.” she only grumbled in response, her own tiredness more evident than ever.
“you never know until you try.” you shrugged, causing lucy to sigh in response, before wrapping her arms around your back, and letting herself be completely enveloped by you. the silence that settled between the pair of you lasted no more than a few minutes - her frustrated groan that broke it travelling across the room.
“doesn’t work.”
“just clear your mind, yeah? let all your thoughts and everything just float away. it’s just you and me.” you whispered, remaining still and quiet in hopes that it’d eventually take some influence.
“can we sleep naked? maybe that’s what it is. wanna be close to you. wanna feel your skin.”
“if you think that’ll help babe.” you mumbled, sitting up to pull your lucy’s oversized shirt up and over your head, leaving you almost completely bare in front of your girlfriend.
you watched her intently, searching for any sign of sleep in her eyes, rolling your own when you instead caught her eyeing you up and down hungrily, smirking up at you.
“absolutely not. don’t even think about it. sex isn’t going to work either. it didn’t last time - just got you all riled up, and then neither of us slept. remember how many laps ale made us do that day?”
“well how exactly can you expect me to not want to when you look like that.”
“lucy.” you warned, raising an eyebrow at her before lifting off her to slip off your panties, and mindlessly throwing them across the room - ruling them a problem for the morning. “are you going to strip too or are you just going to stare at me the entire night? this was your idea, remember?”
“alright, alright, fine.” she paused both her staring and complaints about your lack of use of a nickname to pull her own shirt and underwear off, in a speed that was almost impressive.
“if i can’t stare, neither can you, hypocrite.”
“you suck.” you whined, shifting once more to the same position you’d woken up in, sprawled across her - arms clumsily moving to wrap around her.
“its hot in here.” lucy gulped from below you, her signature smirk, that almost always made you melt, returning to spread across her face.
“it’s the middle of january, it’s freezing. you’re just horny, and we’re going to sleep.”
“ugh.” she groaned, lacking the energy to fully tease you and get what she wanted. her arms pulled you impossibly closer into her, her skin flush against your own. the sheer comfort and warmth that radiated off of her made you beam, as you let sleep begin to creep back up on you.
you laid in a comfortable silence for a good while, almost long enough for you to fully drift off, believing that she had too - before you felt her tracing shapes on the bare skin of your back - and the sound of her humming hit your ears.
“will you hum with me?”
“of course.” you chuckled to yourself silently, melting at how much of a dork lucy truly was, despite the front she put on - and how offended she got when you called her that.
you picked up on her tune with ease, this being a rather common occurrence with the two of you, joining in and humming alongside her, only stopping when you noticed that hers had trailed off, and that her eyes had fluttered shut, at last.
“goodnight my love. i love you so much.” you said, so quietly that it was more mouthed, allowing yourself to easily fall back to sleep.
“love you too.” she mumbled into your hair - words so thick with sleep that they sounded more like random sounds.
-
this was actually inspired by a glee fic i read years ago yet still remember, and the fact that i’m also desperate to fall asleep but can’t !!
i’ve got to be up early in the morning to go to liverpool to watch arsenal play (terrified and praying that we aren’t shit) so i will proof read and upload more works on the journey!
hope you enjoyed this - apologies that it’s not my best!
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simp-ly-writes · 19 days
Text
Okay but Price on a road trip would 100% be the guy to stick his hand around to the backseat. Shaking his palm around upwards for snacks to be poured in as he drives and you voice out navigations from the passengers seat. You turn around to watch the rest of the boys all huddled up in the back- shifting around and fighting one another for space as you snap a picture for the album.
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squirrel-gay · 5 months
Text
Enid: Yeah my mum loves the scars
they remind her of me wolfing out, that i'm no longer a disgrace
Wednesday: I like looking at them
they remind me of your love for me
Excuse me, but consider this: Enid doesn't like her scars, because they get more attention than she ever did. It's the first thing her mother notices, and she almost cries of joy because she didn't believe it when they told her she'd finally turned. Enid catches her mom looking proudly at her scars from time to time, which is more attention than she ever gave her before. "Let me get a good look at you" she says, turning Enid's head to the side, tracing the scars. Enid wants to run away. Her mom doesn't say "I'm glad you're okay" she doesn't ask if it hurt. She says "finally" because Enid almost dying is less important than her wolfing out.
Enid starts wearing her hair in a way that hides them as much as possible. Until one day Wednesday asks her about it, "do you regret how you got your scars?" and Enid's words get stuck in her throat. And Wednesday, carefully tracing the area on Enid's cheek so she doesn't touch still healing wounds, tells her that they're just a visual representation of her choices. A part of her now, sure, but they're more like a footnote, an added detail to the intricacy of her. And when Wednesday looks at them she remembers how she saved her life that day.
"If you regret saving me, that's okay, but I can't bear to see you hiding yourself like this"
And Enid stops her then, because she would never regret what she did that day.
"It's just... it feels like my scars are the only thing mum loves about me"
And Wednesday says her mom's a fool, because "What's not to love about you?"
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Tired, Spencer Reid
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Word Count: 800~
A case that takes more than a week to solve usually tires Spencer out to the point that he's zoning in and out of sleep as he enters the apartment. This case was no different. In fact, he was so tired out from everything that the first thing he did was plop down on the couch after dropping his bags by the door. Usually, he'll take them to the bedroom and unpack, and usually, he won't start falling asleep two seconds after pushing his face into my lap either.
Moving the book in my hands over to the side, I peer down at him and smile with an eyebrow raised. "Tired much?" I joke with him, taking a hand away from my book and placing it on top of Spencer's fluffy hair. He tiredly groans in response to my words before turning his face up to greet mine, only to be blocked by the book in my hands.
"I see you've begun reading from my side of the bookshelf," He notes with an exhausted smile. My smile brightens as I look back at the printed words of the many poets and writers during the transcendentalism era. "It fell when I was dusting earlier, and I've always enjoyed poems and short stories, so I decided I would read it," I explain, placing a finger in the book so I don't lose my place.
Planting his face back into my lap, Spencer speaks up. "How far have you gotten?" He asks, his voice muffled by my legs. I look back at the unread page in my hands and look for my previous spot.
"Currently, I'm in the middle of The Birthmark by Nathanael Hawthorne," I answer. "Do you want me to read it to you?" I question him, smiling as I comb my fingers through his hair.
"I would love that," He tells me, his eyes closing soon after. As soon as I see him do this, I just know he's going to fall asleep within a few seconds. Nonetheless, I still begin reading it to him, trying to make him stay awake for just a bit longer by keeping my voice slightly raised.
"Such a union took place and was attended with truly remark- Spencer?" Not even ten seconds pass after I begin reading that Spencer's snores start overriding my voice. Looking down at him, I hold back a laugh before nudging his shoulder. "Spencer?" I say his name. "Spencer...?" I repeat myself, drawing on his name until I see him lightly jolt and wake up.
"Did you already finish?" He asks, his voice already groggy. This time, I don't hold back my amused laughter and watch as the messy-haired goofball stares at me, confused.
"Baby," I begin. "I barely even started before you fell asleep," I inform him, his eyebrows furrowing in even more confusion. Upon realizing it's the truth, he sighs before replanting his head back onto my lap.
"I'm sorry..." he apologizes, reaching a hand up to rest on my knee. He runs his thumb against the soft material of my pajama pants before eventually stopping, growing tired even with that.
"It's okay, sweetie," I assure Spencer, placing his book beside me on the couch before moving to stand up. Taking his hands into mine, I pull him up with me, causing his sluggish body to slump against me. However, Spencer quickly takes this chance to wrap his arms around me and hold me closer to him as he gently sways us in his hold. For a few moments, I savor his touch until the thought occurs to me that if he falls asleep and goes down, I'm going down with him.
"Spencer, honey, let's get you to bed," I murmur to him, receiving a small nod against my neck in response. Still, it takes a few seconds for Spencer to pull his face away from my neck and part from my embrace, showing me Spencer was probably enjoying our embrace like me as well.
After walking to our shared room with Spencer nearly stumbling behind me, I help him change out of his work clothes and into just his boxers before turning to grab him his pajamas. However, before I can grab anything, I feel Spencer wrap his arms around me from behind. "Honey, let me grab your pajamas," I tell him with a small laugh as he almost whines.
"I'm okay, baby," He murmurs as he nuzzles his face into my neck like earlier. "Let's just get to bed," he adds. I can't help but simply nod at his words before turning and walking us over to our bed. As I pull the bed covers over, I feel Spencer begin to place light kisses down my neck. "I'll make it up to you for coming home so late~"
Shaking my head at his sudden mood change, I smirk at him before helping him lie down on our beige sheets and pulling the comforter over him despite his weak protests. "Tomorrow," I promise him, moving over to my side of the bed where I lie next to him. Without a second to spare, I feel myself become trapped in Spencer's arms just as he succumbs to a deep slumber. Spencer's soft snores from earlier return within seconds, making me slightly laugh to myself. He's so tired, it's like he's drunk - hence the sudden want for intimacy. I think I'll have a talk with Hotch tomorrow; he needs to stop sending my boyfriend home half-asleep and unsupervised.
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jellymellydraws · 23 days
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Gortash has to sit there while he gets glimpses of his dead wife favorite assassin haunting the sword coast through the lenses of Scrying Eyes and Steel Watchers.
The first time he sees her, he can't believe it. It's a trick of the light. Orin fooling him again. But no, Orin is right beside him. In the Scrying Eye, it's her. It's Rose. Falling into ever so familiar habits, but still something different about her. A new way of carrying herself. A new smile upon her lips. A different glint in her eye. She talks to Minthara, discussing plans of The Absolute, and saunters away with a pale elf that she playfully nudges and laughs with.
Then on his way to Moonrise, he's checking in on Ketheric. She's there. She doesn't command the room how she used to-- like she's a stranger to this place. But that isn't the part that catches grips him. It's when that same damned pale elf is pacing outside of her old room-- now taken over by Balthazar. When he hesitantly asks her if they could talk. When she invites him to join her outside.
The look of concern is foreign to him. Her soft gaze shakes his core.
He can't remember if she ever whispered so tenderly the way she does to the elf. The face she makes as she slowly wraps her arms around him, like she's afraid her touch would shatter something so delicate and dear. They hold each other, for ages.
He breaks the connection.
Finally she's home, in their city. The damned elf is with her. Their hands are inseparable as they frolic the streets, taunting the Archduke-to-be with their laughter and adoration of each other. Orin made a mess of her, this much was true.
But if he could just get a moment of her time. A private meeting...
He'd help her remember what she was. What they were.
They could have everything they promised, together.
He was sure of it.
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elitadream · 10 months
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Midnight Thoughts 🌃💙
Based on the heartfelt scene written by @s-creations. I loved the idea of Mario feeling conflicted and worried for Luigi's sake, and seeking his approval regarding their current situation! His little bro's happiness means everything to him. 🥺🙏
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lesbiansforastarion · 10 days
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Exposed Back
Astarion x gnTav
Summary: A short but sweet moment where Astarion feels comfortable and safe with Tav.
“I know you don’t like your back- for obvious reasons- but it truly can’t be stated enough how beautiful you are.” The way Tav said it was borderline dreamy to his ears. The two were laying together on their bedroll with his back to them for a change as he read. They laid behind him slowly stroking the small of his back, just below his scars, admiring the elegant dip and curve of his spine. At this point it wasn’t just Tav’s tent anymore with how present Astarion always was in it, even when they weren’t there. He always tried staying in his own but he couldn’t rest when he craved the comfort of theirs.Their tent always surrounded him in a blanket of their scent that his own just lacked. Their things were just simply better than his own because of it.
He made a small hum of acknowledgement at their comment. Normally people focusing on that specific aspect of him made him uneased but they even made his back feel precious. “You can touch it, you know.”
Acting on impulse Tav gave his tush a little pinch over his trousers. They had known what he ment but they couldn’t help themself. He was too fun to tease and they felt the need to lighten the mood.
Astarion couldn’t fight the giggle he let out and playfully smacked whatever of them he could reach behind him with his book. “Not that you fool.” His wide grin could be heard in his voice. How they could turn a sleepy soft moment into such a warm humorous time he’d never know, but he hoped they’d never stop. It always made these vulnerable moments so much more comfortable. Really just having them there made being vulnerable so much more natural to him. “I meant the scar. You can get your pinches in later.”
He heard the remaining chuckles bubble from them as they calmed into the intimate moment. What he wouldn’t do to always be the reason for that sound. The soft draw of fingers slowly worked their way up from his lower back to up his spine. They’re hands gently traced the line down the center of his back. Focusing on the curve. While he was braced at first, he slowly relaxed under their repetitive motion. Their warmth melting into the cold flesh. Tav only explored further after they felt his body fully untense itself. Moving on from the delicate dip of his spine to the muscles covering his shoulder blades. Smoothing the skin with their gentle hands, massaging their warmth into his muscles. The scars were barely a thought for either of them as Astarion melted under their sickeningly sweet touch.
Tav could stay here forever watching their guarded lover grow soft in their arms. And Astarion could stay here forever, letting himself enjoy the cathartic comfort of being in his favorite person’s space, with his favorite person wrapped around him.
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defectivehero · 1 month
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If you'd like, please write about an injured hero who needs to be carried around by villain! >:D
“One more complaint and I’m dropping you,” the villain announces, briefly readjusting their grip. They have one arm looped under the hero's knee and the other supporting their enemy's back.
The hero has been steadily avoiding eye contact, instead looking ahead. They look a bit flustered, for some reason. “This is humiliating,” the hero sighs, looking down at their ankle with a menacing glare.
“Yes, it is humiliating,” the villain agrees, an annoyed expression on their face as they stare ahead. They thank the stars that they're walking down a rather narrow and abandoned side street. They wouldn't be able to do this downtown, in broad daylight—both because they're too prideful, and because someone may recognize them. “Maybe if you had paid attention instead of tripping over nothing-”
“Hey, that’s not very nice bedside manner,” the hero interjects. The villain has to take a moment to process that statement.
“Bedside manner is for people who are ill or dying,” the villain sighs, “You’re just dramatic.” Gods, why do they even bother? They could be at home right now, washing the dried blood from their skin and melting under the warm water from their shower. Instead, they're carrying the hero across town as if they're some sort of delivery service. Absolutely ridiculous.
“You haven’t dropped me,” the hero points out. They look far too smug for the villain's liking. Indeed, their next remark nearly makes the villain's jaw crack from how hard they're gritting their teeth. “So I must be doing something right.”
The villain takes a deep breath, trying to maintain their composure. Leave it to their enemy to make a simple act of kindness so painful, overcomplicated, and tedious. “You’re clinging onto my neck so tightly that I’ll get whiplash if I drop you,” the villain feels the need to point out.
“Fair enough,” the hero acquiesces. After a moment’s contemplation, they loosen their grip on their neck. The villain can almost feel the weight slowly seeping from their shoulders. They had underestimated the hero's grip strength, it seems.
They expect the hero to be still once more, but their enemy doesn't relax. It only takes a few moments for them to snap. "Stop squirming," the villain demands.
"I was loosening my grip, asshole-" The hero seethes irritatedly.
"Oh, I'm sorry, what was that?" The villain asks, making a show of looking around at the empty street around them. "Was I just insulted for helping my enemy back to their agency—which, might I say, is an entirely voluntary and selfless act of heroism?"
The hero scoffs and rolls their eyes. "Oh, please," they huff. The villain gets the feeling that, if their arms were free, they'd cross them over their chest in indignation. "You wouldn't know heroism if it punched you in the face."
The villain just stares at them, waiting for them to catch on to what they just said. The hero connects the dots moments later, as they evidently realize that they themself have indeed punched the villain in the face before.
An awkward tension clings to the air. The villain continues walking down the street towards the hero's agency, internally cursing their pure heart. If this is how inconvenient it is to be a hero, then they don't plan on doing anything remotely good ever again.
Mercifully, the building begins to appear in the distance. As the villain crosses the street, the hero begins to murmur. “Let’s go in through the back,” they say, “Just turn the corner, there’s a door back there-”
“Oh, absolutely not,” the villain interjects immediately. "If we're doing this, then we're doing this." They readjust their grip once more and stroll towards the elaborate front doors of the city's top superhero agency. They can feel the hero stiffen in their arms.
“Please, no,” the hero begs them. The villain doesn’t bother listening, instead continuing to walk purposefully towards the entrance. The security is laughably lax at this hour. It's when they cross the threshold of the entrance that the hero attempts to break free from their grasp. Thankfully, the villain had been expecting them to do just that, and they manage to hold tight.
The villain pointedly clears their throat, satisfied with the way the occupants of the foyer immediately swivel around and stare with gazes of recognition. “I think I have something of yours,” they announce, looking down at the hero in their arms. At this point, the hero is positively wriggling in their arms—desperate for escape. The villain finally decides to take pity on them and they release their grip, leaving the hero to fall to the ground.
“Ouch.” The hero mutters once they hit the ground. The villain rolls their eyes, knowing that the hero managed to break their fall with a tactical roll and land without injury. They push themselves to stand on one foot and someone nearby rushes to their side, providing them adequate support to remain balanced on one side.
Everyone's eyes are on them, as if they're waiting for the villain to do something. "You may carry on," the villain orders, when a few seconds pass and the onlookers continue to stare expectantly. Their voice seems to break through the confusion and anticipation, and the people scattered around the space return to whatever they were doing. "I've done my civic duty for the year." They mutter to themself, turning on their heel and heading for the door.
"Hey." The hero's voice makes them freeze in place. The villain inhales slowly, summoning more patience. They turn around and manifest a calm expression.
"What?" They ask, struggling to keep the frustration from their voice.
"Thanks." The hero smiles.
"Just- don't let it happen again," the villain answers, looking away from the hero's far-too-bright smile. They turn on their heel and walk away, pushing away any and all feelings born from their enemy's gratitude.
©2024, @defectivehero | @defectivevillain, All Rights Reserved. Reblogs are greatly appreciated—just don't steal or share outside of Tumblr, please.
endnotes below!
the villain, holding the hero by the scruff of their neck: look what i foundddd!
the villain: this heroism stuff sucks. the hero: *expresses their gratitude and smiles* the villain, visibly flustered: now hold on a second...
this dynamic really amuses me. I can't get rid of the mental image of the villain holding the hero by the scruff of the neck like a kitten, and the hero just kind of hanging there in defeat. good stuff.
the villain lies awake that night, unable to stop thinking about the hero. :3
and thanks to the anon who sent this request! I posted a cry for help yesterday very briefly and then got embarrassed and deleted it, but! the original point still stands: my ask box is open! send me stuff and i *may* write it!
if ur reading this, ily <3 hehe
tag list: @lateuplight @wit-is-wisdom @greengableswriting @whump-me-all-night-long @noawhite @rekhyt-of-arcadia @the-blind-one-speaks @sufferfictionalcharacters @basically-psyduck @alexkolax @subval01 @emerald-blade @felicia609 @surplus-of-sarcasm @ilickedanenvelopeandilikedit @a-chaotic-gremlin @unknownogre @prompt-fills-and-writing-spills @whatwhumpcomments @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @agayprince @starsick1979 @a-lonely-little-ghost @agayprince @plum-tello
click here if you’d like to be on/off the tag list!
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claw404 · 23 days
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A c o l d n i g h t s h a r e d
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× pairing: venture x reader
× words: 1109
× content: gender neutral reader, fluff, comfort, slight crushing
× summary: After a long day of work at the dig site, the two of you help eachother wind down and get ready for sleep.
[ A/N ] : Hello hi ive become severely obsessed with this Venture creature and im not seeing enough fanfics with them so of course i had to pick the pen up myself and get to work.
After a long day of work at the dig site, the two of you help eachother wind down and get ready for sleep. Sitting close by the fire, you help them clean up.
Holding the tissues you brought with you in hand, you began gently wiping Ventures face from all the dirt and dust as they sat slightly hunched over to help you reach better.
"Aw come on, do we really have to?" They playfully whined with a weak laugh, not truly being against this but they would rather be asleep right now.
"Oh shush" you replied with a soft smile, playfully wiping their lips to keep Venture quiet, their complaints now muffled.
You knew Venture would crawl into their tent all dusty and not see a problem with it, focused only on the excitement of getting back to work first thing in the very early morning. But knowing you- they knew you wouldn't let that happen.
After wiping their mouth clean you pause, staring at their lips, thoughts trailing somewhere else, somewhere pleasant, while your other hand cupped their face and thumb began to stroke their features...
Venture noticed your pause after a moment and blushed averting their eyes. Not knowing what to do they cleared their throat.
"Hm? Oh!" You caught yourself.
You yourself were now blushing while you continued your work. Now wiping their eyebrows, cheeks and then nose. A chill visibly ran through your body as the cold night wind picked up ever so slightly. You gently tilt Ventures face to get their chin and neck as well, trying not too be overly obvious while staring at their tattoo. The touch of your fingers, soft and slow, was so soothing to them, so sweet and comforting, relaxing even. They'd fall asleep in your hands any moment you worried.
They draw out a big, exaggerated yawn.
"Mmmokay!" they exclaim as they quickly pat their thighs before getting up in what seemed to be a hurry.
"Since we are done here-" Venture turned while dragging you by the hand as if you two agreed prior to whatever they were planning now.
"Huh??!"
Venture turned to you with an innocent look and their lips pouted slightly before they defend themselves "I mean, the night is cold, i thought we could- uh -share my tent and keep eachother warm?"
You just stare at eachother for a moment before you speak.
"I uh, sure, it is rather... cold" You're not sure how else to answer, too focused on the idea of being so close as to share a tent with them.
"Cool!"
Hands still intertwined, theirs much rougher to the touch than yours, you walked over to Ventures humble tent which was only a couple steps away from the fire. You wished it wasn't so close...
...
Venture let you crawl in first and the tent seemed pretty spacious at first, with soft bedding spread beneath and a small oil lamp next to the pillow, until Venture crawled in after you. Venture is broad and tall after all, you wondered how they even fit here without you.
You were propped up on your elbow as you watched Venture fluff up the pillow for the both of you, finally resting their head on one end. Their eyes looked deeply into yours, an invitation.
You haven't been this close with them ever before, your stomach quickly began doing somersaults at this realization, heart pumping faster. There was no backing out now, you yearned for their warmth.
Having to scoot a little closer, you lay down next to them, fitting your head on the other end of the pillow. Your faces were close, so close you could see Ventures eyes gleam with the soft glow cast from the oil lamp, the light catching the shine of their eyebrow piercing as well. In turn, they observed your face and its shine.
There was a silence between you two, a comfortable yet tense one. The sound of your calm breathes filled the tent, accompanied by the crackling of the campfire outside. Even further out crickets and other bugs could be heard singing their lullabies quietly, as if they knew not to disturb this moment.
You decide then to be bold and run your fingers, hesitantly at first as if afraid to be burnt, through Ventures wild locks. They were so soft yet thick and- dirt... grains of dirt and sand fell from Ventures strands, only a few but noticeable to you.
You clicked your tongue. "Guess i missed a spot" you scold yourself.
"Its okay" They take your hand in theirs and rest them between the two of you, giving yours a squeeze " you can get it next time" Venture said with a lazy smile, letting their chipped tooth peak through their lips. Their thumb running circles onto your palm.
The lack of distance between you became comfortable soon, so Venture decided to to shrink it even further when they laid their hand on your lower back grasping it, your body instinctively stiffened at their unannounced touch and they yanked you closer. Bodies pressing against one another, noses almost touching. Your heart picked up the pace again, thumping in response before Ventures hand started trailing further down all the while you still maintained eye contact.
With confidence Venture ran their large hand down your back, then hip, then thigh, then leg, hooking a hand under your knee on their way up and lifting your leg letting it snake around theirs.
Seeing you were still red and stunned by their advances, Venture decided to help you out. Taking your hand in theirs they guided it to their waist, firmly leaving it there. You got the hint and held them as their hand returned to your thigh.
Breaking that intense eye contact you had to close your eyes for a moment, the situation becoming a lot for you all at once, all too quickly. But then, all of the sudden a surge of energy rushed through your body and you kissed Venture. You kissed them, placing a sweet but small kiss on their lips and let it linger for only a short second before pulling away, now watching their reaction.
Ventures face was beaming like a thousand suns, they didn't think you had it in you and as a reward they returned the favour. With confidence they kissed you passionately yet gently, only for a moment, before pulling away and then kissing you once more. You locked eyes again while exchanging sweet smiles, yours shy, their smug.
Venture gave you one last pull connecting their forehead with yours as they closed their eyes. Soon, you did the same.
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xlpoww · 8 months
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she'll be the best you ever had, if you let her-
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you know it's for the better, you really do
who are you to ask for more really? you had already been so lucky to have crossed path with the self proclaimed “future king of the pirates” why do you think you deserve to the heart of the best chef in the east blue?
opla sanji! x f! reader
part two: let him
part three: when you were a waiting room
it stung, watching him falling over his own feet at every beautiful girl that walked by. 
the way he would blush so brightly, being so forward in his affections. 
every encounter chipping away at an already so fragile heart.
how lucky were you to be on board the same ship as him! to have your meals lovingly prepared by the chef of the going merry. why should it matter that it stung everytime his eyes lingered on your orange haired friend, when he jumped up at any request she made of him.
you knew she had no interest in him, none in the slightest. why couldn't he see it wasnt her who held such a burning flame for him inside?
she wasn't to blame, no, you adored nami. she’s so beautiful on the inside and out, and nothing short of a wonderful friend. everyone of the straw hat crew was, and you felt honored to have found a home among them.
you can wish all that you want, but it won’t bring you together. and you know, whatever happens, it’s for the better.
as the ship nears the dock of the island luffy had decided upon, you hear shuffling feet and a familiar voice exclaiming on the deck. it’s muffled, but the words sting nonetheless.
“how lucky am i to have been graced at the sight of such beauty! mademoiselle, what is your name?”
you don’t know how much more your heart can take.
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iluvmorales · 11 months
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Spider-Man?
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Summary miles has a panic attack while on patrol, for what reason??
a/n requests are open stillll (P.S this fic is kinda short.)
Warnings panic attack
the clock on your phone read 10:30, you needed help with physics but the only person that could help would be Miles.
You shot miles a text, asking if he wanted to call and work on the vision academy’s packet they gave over break.
Usually, the boy replied within a couple seconds, but for some reason once it was dark out, he would take hours. Sighing, you placed your phone screen down on your desk as you got to work on the physics sheet, knowing you’d definitely pass if miles would help you.
Your pencil wrote down equations that you truthfully, did not really understand but it seemed like the answers were close enough. Just as you’d gotten into your little study bubble, mind elsewhere, you saw a figure on your window, leaning against it with a thud.
You rolled your chair back to your night stand, picking up your taser from the top drawer before getting up from the chair slowly creeping back. You opened the blinds and saw a black suit.. Spider-Man?
You opened the window, only to see him on the floor of the fire escape level, sitting with his head thrown back as his chest rose and fell quickly.
You could definitely hear his hyperventilation all the way from the cracked window, and saw blood as well. You felt scared, of him and the situation. “Spider-Man?” You called out, voice lacing concern as you stepped out onto the fire escape, dropping your taser.
The hero only continued to hyperventilate, his body trembling. You walked to him and knelt in-front of him, hand on his shoulder now. His body only flinched at your contact but he continued to breathe raggedly as if he could not catch his breath. He lifted his arm, slipped off his mask, revealing miles.
Your eyes grew wide, watching the fear in the boys face and the way his lips were parted as he tried to breathe. “Miles? What the fuck happened?” You whisper yelled, now actually concerned instead of scared.
He closed his eyes, face and eyebrows twisting as if he were in pain. He was having flashbacks of what he had seen before he came to you. You lifted his legs to his chest, and took both of his hands in yours.
He was still shaking like crazy, but he’d brought his head back down to look at you before closing his eyes again trying to not think about it.
“Miles, breathe” you breathed in, placing one of his hands to feel your breathing, then breathed out. “Focus on your breathing, focus on how I’m doing it” your voice was low and calm, demonstrating a breathing exercise for him.
He nodded, eyes shutting closed as he followed your breathing. Miles tuned out the loud police sirens, people walking down the street and the dim neon lights, hyper focusing on your heart beat and breathing.
He noticed how fast your heart was beating, but your breathing was still calm and regular, he attempted his best to copy you, breathing in when you did and letting it out when you did.
His slowly returned back to normal, the shaking coming to a stop. You felt his arm go limp, the stiffness that came from the panic attack melted away. “Miles talk to me,” you breathed out, scooting closer as you watched his head droop to his knees.
“I’m- okay..” he whispered, voice so soft but shrill, it pained you to hear him like this. Miles was always positive, joyful and so loud. This was, a panic attack? You could only reach your arms out to him, giving him a choice to either come into your embrace or stay how he was.
Miles looked up at you, the tears that pricked his eyes already spilled and stopped. He leaned forward into your open arms, arms around your waist as his head rested on your chest. You wrapped one arm around him and another caressing his head.
You both sat there in silence, miles listening to your heart beat as you rubbed circles into his back. “You wanna talk about it?” You whispered, not stopping your motions. Miles shook his head slightly; “jus’ wanna stay like this for a lil longer” he mumbled, cheek squished from him laying on your chest.
You just nodded, throwing your head back as you looked up at the barely visible stars. Having the top floor apartment was a blessing right about now.
You stayed like that, never moving miles as he’d fallen fast asleep, his breaths were light but finally going at a normal pace. You figured you’d talk to him about everything when he was ready to open up. “goodnight miles.” You whispered, placing a kiss on the top of his head.
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