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makoodlesarchive · 4 years

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(this beat is)

pairing: kirishima eijirou x reader

word count: 2648

warnings: NSFW, drunkenness, dry humping

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[[PART 2]]

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The music in the club is so loud that you can see the reverberations disturb the surface of your drink where it sits on the table. You have to move it every couple of minutes to avoid Mina’s flailing limbs as she tries to tell a story to Jirou; she doesn’t seem to realise that no one can hear her over the music, though Jirou is smiling and nodding along anyway.

The alcohol has turned your thoughts soupy and slow, and you sprawl comfortably in your seat with your head cradled in one hand. Across the dance floor, you watch as Kirishima begs the DJ to play One, Two Step for the fourth time that night. Judging by the poe-faced DJ, it’s not going well. Suddenly your view is obstructed by a pink hand waving in your face, and then Mina is. pressing right up into your side and yelling into your ear, “Oooooooh, who are you looking at, huh?”

You flush, and pray that she can’t see in the darkness of the club. “No one.” you say quickly, but Mina can’t seem to hear you over the pounding bass. Either that, or she’s ignoring you.

“Did someone cute catch your eye?”

“No!” you insist, louder this time. You lunge for your drink and take an exaggeratedly large gulp of it -- it has the desired effect of distracting Mina, who cheers loudly and encourages you to chug it.

Someone thumps down into the seat next to you, and you don’t even have to look to know that it’s Bakugou. He crosses his arms and scowls so fiercely that it looks for a moment like his face is about to collapse. “Kirishima is totally fuckin’ wasted.” his snarl carries over the music, and he directs his frown over to where Kirishima is still heckling the DJ.

“Yeah.” you agree with a little laugh, following his gaze. The way Kirishima’s red shirt clings to his broad shoulders should be illegal, and those black pants make it hard for you to tear your eyes away from his ass. He looks so good that it feels physically painful to look at him. When you finally manage to look away from him, you realise Bakugou is watching you watching Kirishima with a raised eyebrow. “Fuck off.” you say reflexively, despite the fact that Bakugou hasn’t actually commented yet.

His raised eyebrow morphs into a smug little grin that you’d love to smack off his face, but you also like having your arms connected to your body so you decide to let it slide. “None of my business if you want to admire the view.” he says, a little mockingly. You glare at him, totally ineffectively, because he barely seems to notice. A few moments pass where neither of you speak, and then suddenly Bakugou says, “He’s so drunk that I had to take his keys.”

You blink at him, a little confused. “Yeah?”

“Mhm. He’ll need help getting back to his place.”

“Probably.” You agree; Kirishima has given up on trying to coerce the DJ into playing classic early 2000s pop hits and is now weaving his way back to the table. It’s slow going, as he keeps misjudging his own size and bouncing into people only to ricochet backwards, barely keeping to his feet. He’s an absolute disaster, and you can’t believe how attracted to him you are.

Your crush on Kirishima is an embarrassing thing that began back in your UA days; you were in the General course, so you figured there was virtually no chance of him ever even noticing you. It got better when you befriended Mina, because apparently her entire group of friends came as a package deal, but you definitely were still stuck pretty firmly in the friendzone.

You’d be able to cope with it just fine -- it’s not like it’s the first crush you’ve ever had, and nobody even knows about it. Except for the fact that Bakugo fucking Katsuki of all people seems to have somehow found out about your secret crush. Normally that wouldn’t be such a huge deal. Bakugou really isn’t the kind to give a shit about trivial things like who has a crush on who. Yet, for some inexplicable reason, he seems to get great enjoyment out of watching you pine after his best friend. It’s uncomfortable and embarrassing, and you mostly try to pretend that you don’t notice his stupid shit-eating smirks whenever he catches you ogling Kirishima’s abs in his Pro Hero costume.

“Guys!” Kirishima yells as he finally reaches your table, swaying dangerously. “Guys! Let’s do more shots!”

“Hell no.” Bakugou shoots him down instantly before Mina gets the chance to cheer. “I’m going home.”

“Bakubro.” Kirishima affects a ridiculous pout which somehow manages to look really endearing on him. “C’mon man, one shot for the road!”

“No.”

Kirishima rounds on you immediately and just about blinds you with his grin, “Y/N! Shots!”

“Okay.” you hear yourself agreeing, which is stupid because you were supposed to agree with Bakugou. You blink rather stupidly as Kirishima yells and fist pumps the air before disappearing again, then turn to stare at Bakugou.

“Idiot.” Bakugou says, and you’re not sure if he means you or Kirishima. “Whatever. I’m leaving.”

“Yeah.” Mina agrees with a yawn. “I’m pretty tired too.”

“Will I tell Kirishima to forget the shots?” you ask, scanning the club for spiky red hair.

“Yeah.” Bakugou says slowly, “Why don’t you do that?”

His tone is a little weird, but honestly you’re too drunk to think much of it so you wobble your way to your feet and take off towards the bar. Kirishima isn’t difficult to spot, even if you weren’t as ridiculously attuned to his presence as you are. You push your way past people and wiggle your way into the bar to his side. When he notices you he grins, his teeth gleaming under the neon club lights. “Hey! I got the shots!”

“Bakugou says-- whoa, how many did you get?” you blink down at the five shot glasses lined up on the bar. “I think we’re the only ones that are actually going to be taking them.”

“We can split them, then!” Kirishima says happily, totally unbothered.

You eye him a little uncertainly as he leans heavily against the bar. “Are you sure? You’re… you’ve had a lot to drink.”

Kirishima nods along as though he thinks you’re talking nothing but sense, then pushes three shot glasses towards you and pulls the remaining two towards himself. “There we go,” he grins, “Fair! Now drink!”

You were intending on telling Kirishima that you didn’t have time to do the shots, and that you both were already drunk enough without adding shots to the mix, and plus Bakugou’s getting real antsy about getting home. Instead, you take one look at the way the corners of Kirishima’s eyes crinkle when he smiles and you toss back the three shots like the dumb bitch you are.

Kirishima cheers you on, laughing delightedly, then loops his arm in yours and tugs you back toward your friends. The problem was, when you got to the table there was no one there.

“Is this the right table?” Kirishima asked, confused, swaying a little.

“Yeah.” you say, frowning deep. What the hell? Where did everyone go?

You think of Bakugou’s weird tone, of him looking from you to Kirishima and saying ‘he’ll need help getting back to his place’. Oh no. He wouldn’t. Except he was Bakugou, and he absolutely would.

“That bitch.” you blurt, disbelieving. He really left you both here, knowing that Kirishima wouldn’t be able to get home without the keys that Bakugou had taken from him.

“Hey, are we going home now?” Kirishima asks, leaning his chin on your shoulder and talking right into your ear.

You shiver a little at the proximity and at the hot breath against your neck. “Um,” you say, a little helplessly, “I think you’re gonna have to stay at my place.”

“Great!” he says cheerfully, still swaying as he loops an arm around your waist and begins to escort you out of the club. His balance is shot and yours isn’t much better, so it ends up taking an embarrassingly long time for the two of you to weave your way out of the building.

The fresh air outside hits you like a slap, but instead of sobering you up it just makes you realise exactly how drunk you are. You trip on a curb and nearly overbalance, but then Kirishima is wrapping an arm around your waist to steady you and giggling into your ear and you realise that you are totally, totally screwed.

You can honestly say that you have no idea how this happened.

One minute you and Kirishima are giggling drunkenly and getting ready for bed, and the next you’re perched in his lap on the bed kissing so heatedly it feels like he’s about to swallow you whole. The shots had hit you like a train when you were halfway home; you can’t even remember who kissed who first.

He’s really warm and he tastes like rum, and you find your hands winding into his hair; it’s softer than you expected, a revelation which nearly knocks you flat. You’ve wanted to touch him like this for forever, and the heady sensation of his warmth pressed against you is making your head swim even more than it had been already.

His hands skim up your bare thighs -- you had stripped down into a sleep shirt and panties, thinking it was time for bed. He pulls away from your mouth and you make an embarrassing sound, like a whine pulled from the back of your throat. “Are you-- this is okay?” he asks, nipping along your jaw.

“Yes.” you breathe, clutching at his shoulders. You can feel the firmness of the muscle under your fingers as you press down. “Definitely okay.” The nipping continues at your jaw, then travels down your neck. “I-I really like you.”

Kirishima looks up, eyes wide and a little bloodshot. You can’t imagine that yours look any better. “You do?” when you nod, his face breaks out into a grin. “I like you too! Can I-?” he begins, and you feel his hands sliding inside your over-sized shirt, thumbing at your hips. Feeling bold, you lean forward and capture his lips again. He groans softly and pulls you closer to him, his hands sweeping over your waist and then down to the swell of your ass. His touch feels good, even through the drunken fuzziness.

“You can do whatever you want.” you mumble into his mouth. A part of you is a little mortified at your boldness, but it’s a small part that’s quickly washed away as Kirishima surges up into you. In a movement too swift for you to follow, he has you flipped onto your back as he leans over you. His hands feel hot as they pass over your skin, and you press up into him as he leans down to kiss you again.

The kiss only lasts a moment, and then he pulls back to look down at you. His breath comes in light puffs, hot against the side of your face, but he doesn’t say anything. You’re just about to ask what he’s doing, suddenly worried that he’s come to his senses and wants nothing to do with you anymore, when he moves. Suddenly he’s pressing right in between your legs, and your mouth falls open as you feel the hot, hard press of him against the inside of your thigh.

You’re afraid to make a noise, because you don’t want to interrupt the moment -- it feels fragile, like a soap bubble -- but then Kirishima’s hands are stroking over your ass and hiking your body higher, and then pulls you so you fit right up against him. Despite the alcohol, his movements are sure and strong, nothing like his wavering movements from earlier. It’s so easy to feel him; he had stripped down to his boxer briefs and shirt when you had first gotten home, so the only barrier between you two is the thin material of your underwear. When he moves against you again, you can’t stop the long, low, quiet moan that comes spilling out between your lips.

It’s as though your moan was some sort of signal for him, because suddenly he’s gripping your waist tighter as his own hips jerk against yours. He gasps in your ear as he thrusts himself against the warmth between your legs, then kisses the side of your head. That easy little display of affection has your back flexing, pushing you down to meet him as he humps against your core.

“You’re so warm,” Kirishima whispers into your hair, “You look so good- I wanna- really good,” he continues, a little nonsensically.

You cling to his shoulders, squirming as you feel the thick outline of his cock pressing right against your clit. “There,” you blurt, gasping as he presses there just right, “Yes, there-”

“Okay, okay,” he breathes, “Whatever you want-”

It’s a little embarrassing, how good it feels and how much of a mess you’ve turned into when you’re both technically still clothed. You’re basically just dry-humping, but the feel of Kirishima all around you and his breathy little moans right in your ear are winding you tighter and tighter, and every time he rubs up against you like that it feels like you’re boiling.

“Please,” you gasp. You don’t even know what you’re saying really, only that the feel of him rubbing against you like that, just right, is driving you insane. As you gasp, he starts to go harder, faster, “Like that, yes, yes, yes.”

One of Kirishima’s hands plants itself by the bed, the other wrapped around your back as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. He’s making small choked-off moans, and the sounds shoot heat straight to your core. You tug at his hair, and his moans get a little louder.

“Oh,” he says suddenly, gripping your hips tight, “Shit-”

He shudders hard, then warm wetness is soaking the front of your panties. The realisation that Kirishima has flooded his boxers just from dry-humping has you following over the edge, whining as he keeps grinding the way through both of your orgasms. His hands clench hard into your skin as hips thrusts turn clumsy and even, his hips jerking sporadically.

The force of the orgasm takes you by surprise; your toes have clenched so hard they’re starting to cramp, and your legs flop bonelessly to the bed as Kirishima lowers your body back to the mattress. He rolls to the side just enough so that his weight isn’t entirely on you, before curling right up into your neck and kissing your sweaty forehead. “That,” he says breathlessly, “That was really- yeah.”

You laugh, feeling a little winded. “Yeah,” you agree, then curl into him. A big arm wraps around your shoulder, and you’re pretty sure you could die happy exactly like this.

“You’re so great.” Kirishima mumbles, slurring a little. A glance at his face reveals that he’s already half-asleep, and you can’t help but laugh a little. He’s got the right idea; you feel like you’ve just ran a marathon, which is a little embarrassing, but you can blame the lack of stamina on the shots.

You’ve just closed your eyes, intending on following Kirishima’s example, when the aggravating buzzing of your phone goes off. You groan unhappily, reaching out to grapple with the bedside table until you find it.

Bakugou: You’re welcome, asshole

You glare at the text and click your tongue.

You: you’re such a dick

Kirishima snuffles in his sleep, and you smile as you watch his nose scrunch a little. Fuck, he’s so cute. You guess Bakugou’s not the worst wingman you could have asked for, even if his methods were less than conventional.

You: but thanks ;)

#kirishima x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima imagine #mha x reader #mha kirishima #mha imagine #bnha x reader

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pillarmenarevoregods · 3 years

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Ask: Macro/Micro Vore Pillar Men and Joseph Joestar

First off, I am so so SO sorry for how long this took. Both real life responsibilities and the double standards I hold myself to about creating “quality content” meant my answer to this prompt sat in a half-finished state for a long time. I figure I should just post what I have now and hope it’s sufficient.

@delcaty007 (JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure, Macro/Micro Vore, Multiple Pred Scenarios, M/M, Non-fatal, Unwilling, Fearplay, Mentions of Digestion)

I had several ideas for this, and kind of debated which ones were worth fleshing out (or at least what I’d have the time/motivation for). This might not be fully fleshed out stories, but I hope it’s cool still.

I’m writing this in a premise of post-Battle Tendency, through some means, the Pillar Men come back to seek revenge: Kars is brought back from space, Esidisi and Wamuu are revived, and Santana is out of the Speedwagon vaults. BUT they are 30 feet tall and have no idea why/how that happened. They also find many of their abilities missing, BUT also can be in the sun! Yay! And then they find out the hard way that they can’t digest anything. Joseph’s gonna be stuck in a couple different belly jails.

I decided to write these in the order that Joseph fought the Pillar Men in canon. These can technically be independent scenarios of each other, or you can imagine it as the pillar men taking turns sending Joseph down the hatch if you want. I hope you enjoy!

Santana

He sure remembers how annoying that little primitive named Joseph Joestar was to him, and he’s going to find out what happened to him

He quickly learns about the events that transpired with his fellow Pillar Men and knows Joseph is alive

He actually wanted to seek out that Major Von Stroheim asshole first, because of well… I wouldn’t blame him. However he finds out Stroheim died and well, a little disappointing, at least there’s still JoJo to seek out

Once he locates him, Santana literally plunges his hand into the roof of Joseph’s home and grabs him

Joseph attempts to hamon him, but is shocked that… it no longer affects the pillar man. And how did he even get this large?

Santana smirks, considering it dumb for JoJo to even try using hamon when he’s literally outside in the daylight, unharmed.

Deep booming chuckle, “You idiot primitive…” and he starts squeezing Joseph in his hand, thinking it’ll be satisfying to feel his bones snap.

THEN his stomach gurgles and he has a better idea

Without another word, he quickly pops Joseph in his mouth, tilts his head back and swallows him faster than Joseph can process what just happened.

Joseph goes down Santana’s throat in shock, thrashing, trying to climb his way back up, but the muscles of Santana’s esophagus are no match and pull him down to his doom.

Joseph lands on what seems to be trees, brush, and random animals (still alive). It seems like Santana tried swallowing a LOT of different things

Somewhat to his relief, Joseph notices that nothing has really digested.

Santana, on the other hand, can’t care less about what’s happening inside his stomach. He has that annoying JoJo right where he belonged. The weight in his stomach and the occasional minor sting of attempted hamon only tickled a bit.

Joseph wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, and Santana likewise said nothing when meeting back up with the other Pillar Men.

The first thought on their minds was to find Joseph too, and Santana had to press his tongue in his cheek at knowing that he simultaneously got to stick it to Kars by eating his “mortal enemy” before he could.

Esidisi

He remembers how he died, and while on one hand respects Joseph for winning against him, isn’t going to pass up the opportunity to get his own revenge

Finds Joseph out on a solo boating trip (convenient, right?) and all Joseph can see is some massive force swimming in the water rushing towards him

Esidisi rises up like a colossal beast, picking Joseph’s boat out of the water

“JoooJooo, it’s been a while, huh? What, like 10 years?” Esidisi makes sure to smile wide and show off his sharp teeth, bringing the small boat in his hand closer to his face.

Joseph probably pisses himself (let’s be real), screaming “OH MY GOD” or “HOLY SHIT,” which is music to Esidisi’s ears, causing him to belt out laughing.

“Didn’t think you’d see me again, didya?!” Joseph doesn’t even have a response, he’s just thrashing and yelling at this point

“You remember our conversation about the Art of War, yeah? Well I hope you do. Sun Tzu told me one more bit of advice that has truly been the most beneficial to me...”

He lifts Joseph up above his face, “’Keep your friends close, your enemies even closer.’” before dropping Joseph in his open mouth.

Esidisi hums in appreciation as Joseph flails on his tongue before jerking his head back and giving a thorough swallow to send him down.

He places his hand over his stomach, relishing in the sensation of pounding helplessly at his stomach walls, and feeling confident that he can go back to Kars to report that JoJo has been “taken care of.”

After a long while of walking and swimming through the ocean, he notices Joseph was still active inside him. He would have started digesting by now, right?

Esidisi figures all that physical motion may be disrupting digestion, so he finds a coast to sit on and waits it out, occasionally making small remarks to the man inside him

Gets frustrated and cries eventually because why won’t he digest?? Esidisi at first accepted that there were caveats to being alive again and being able to see the Sun finally, but come on

He already couldn’t use his blood vessels, couldn’t absorb the only advantage he had was being giant and still being able to contort his body, and now he can’t even digest someone he’s eaten?

Joseph meanwhile is yelling and pounding on the stomach walls, trying to hamon his way out. Esidisi is very pleased to see that the hamon is ineffective inside him, in fact it just tickles a bit.

The little pounding and yelling and screams eventually become annoying, though. Esidisi has some important pondering he needs to do on what his new life is now, and the squirming noisy human in his stomach keeps distracting him.

He sits down somewhere to ponder whether the trade-offs are worth it, has to tell Joseph, “Shut up and let me think!”

Wamuu

When Wamuu “woke back up” and noticed his masters had, too, one of his first thoughts was strangely where Joseph Joestar was currently.

He wondered whether Kars had succeeded in killing him and taking ascended as the Ultimate Being.

However, when he saw Lord Kars, also made giant by whatever spell or curse has brought them all back to life and made them 30 feet tall, Wamuu could quickly assume by the tantrum he was throwing that Joseph had also defeated him in some way.

While Wamuu didn’t exactly WANT Joseph to defeat himself or Lord Kars, he still believed in a fair fight and that a winner should be able to keep their victory.

Hearing Kars and Esidisi plot together to find Joseph and enact revenge on him (hell, even Santana is making comments about finding “that annoying JoJo”), Wamuu realizes if he wants to ensure his opponent could keep his honor, he’ll have to find the Joestar before the other Pillar Men did.

While locating him, Wamuu picks up and swallows a bunch of humans (he’s a nervous eater, he needs to snack under pressure you know?)

After several hours of the humans still pounding and yelling inside of his stomach, he realizes something was off… they should have been digesting by now, yet they’re still alive and active

Wamuu thinks it’s only fair to spit them up and let them go. He’s a little embarrassed and tactfully apologizes to these humans, “I did not expect for you to still be alive. Please forgive me, if I had known you weren’t going to digest I wouldn’t have swallowed you in the first place.” Thanks good guy Wamuu, very reassuring.

When he does find Joseph (on a camping trip in the middle of the woods, alone…), he kneels down in a clearing just as Joseph is about to approach that area.

Boy is he surprised to see a giant man kneeling in the normally empty field, especially a man he killed 10 years ago… but giant

“JoJo, we meet again.” Queue the “OH! MY! GODDD!” and trying to runaway classic Joseph Joestar style

Wamuu picks him up like an ant between his fingers and brings him closer to his face.

“I am doing this for your own good, JoJo.” and he opened his mouth wide, held a squirming yelling little Joseph over his mouth and dropped him in, tossed his head back and swallowed.

Unfortunately Wamuu forgot to tell Joseph that he wasn’t going to die, only places his hand unconsciously over his stomach, kneading his thumb into the area Joseph is pounding at

When meeting with his Masters (who were unsuccessful at finding Joseph… gee I wonder why) still has his hand over his belly, trying to sooth the commotion inside.

Kars even asks if Wamuu is ill, to which Wamuu responds with “I ate something that isn’t agreeing with me.” Well, he’s not wrong

He will have to let Joseph out… eventually. But right now he just wants to keep him safe and hidden. When that will be? No one knows - especially not Wamuu or Joseph....

Kars

Oh, this man is NOT happy. All that time in space, going slowly insane? Yeah, he has it in for Joseph Joestar.

Just shortly after he stops thinking, he finds himself rapidly pulled back to Earth and suddenly much larger than he remembers being before.

It takes him a bit to gain all his thoughts back, but of course he’s elated once he realizes his companions are back as well.

After rejoicing the return of Esidisi and Wamuu (maybe at least a little happy to see Santana again, as well), he went about pursuing his new important goal

Joseph Joestar needed to feel the fear and despair he himself felt while drifting through space. He decided he wouldn’t kill him… yet.

He needed to see Joseph suffer the same way he had, killing him too quickly would just end that fun.

Kars wanted to take Joseph down in the most humiliating way - it’s only fair after being defeated in front of his enemies in such a humiliating way.

Joseph happened to be at his work office, doing business as usual in his life free of being a hamon warrior

Therefore, it was absolutely unexpected when a giant hand plunges through the glass pane window, grabs Joseph off-guard and holds him tightly in front of the face of the man in his nightmares.

In fact, he seriously just thinks he’s dreaming. Joseph covers his eyes and yells, “I’m dreaming! This is a dream! I’m going to wake up now in three, two, one…..”

Kars waits a beat for dramatic effect before hissing “Zero.” He licks his lips, being able to sense the pure dread and terror of his prey. Oh, it’s making him absolutely giddy

“I want you to know what it feels like, JoJo… To have all your hopes and dreams unfairly stolen from you.” Kars raises him high above his head, and watches the little man squirm. He’s definitely finding this cathartic.

“I drifted through space, not knowing if I’d ever escape that torture. All of my accomplishments going to waste, because of you! I believe it’s only fair, JoJo, that I give you a taste of what I experienced.”

Without much effort, he casually tosses Joseph high up in the air (but not too hard, because he doesn’t want Joseph to actually go into space

As Joseph falls back down from the sky, Kars waits with his mouth wide open and snaps his jaw shut once the screaming man lands in his mouth.

He doesn’t wait long before swallowing, while focusing on ever little sensation of his enemy wriggle down his throat. Finally, he’s conquered the Sun AND Joseph Joestar.

Even after several hours and realizing his stomach wasn’t digesting his prey, Kars accepted that it was poetic justice in a way that Joseph would remain alive, trapped for an indefinite amount of time in his stomach, just like he had been trapped in space

#jjba vore #pillar men vore #unwilling vore #nonfatal vore #gt vore

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phantom-curve · 3 years

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concept!

an AU in which the boys are all alive, normal high school students, Julie has been kicked out of her music program, and Luke falls in love with her in three days while simultaneously bringing her back to her first love of all: music.

otherwise known as: my characters in my novel aren’t doing what they’re supposed to so I’m projecting them onto characters that share similar traits in an attempt to wrangle them into obedience.

also, I’m probably going to end up writing an entire freakin fanfic out of this so ya know, lemme know if you wanna be tagged.

enjoy!

It had been a year since the last time Julie Molina’s fingertips touched down on the ivory piano keys. A year where she wouldn’t, couldn’t, play a single note to save her life without dissolving into a mass of hysterical panic. A year where even the thought of opening her mouth to sing left her throat constricting like she was allergic to the very idea. A year of deafening silence in her household, nobody even daring to pop a CD in the living room player anymore. An entire year without her mother.

In short, Julie had been having A Very Bad Day for a literal year now. Today wasn’t about to change that for her.

“What do you mean it would be best for me to find a new music program?”

The words were a strangled cry, somehow escaping around the thick blockade in her throat.

“I’m sorry, Julie, but it’s out of my hands. I’ve done everything I can. The music program is very competitive and the requirements to keep a spot open are strict. I’ve held off the school for a year now, but...” Ms. Harrison sighed. It was obvious she didn’t like this any more than Julie did. “Participation is 75% of your grade. I can’t grade what doesn’t exist.”

The words were soft, but Julie felt the sharp sting of them cutting straight through to her heart. Ms. Harrison gave her a sympathetic look. Julie knew it wasn’t her teacher’s fault. She had been given chance after chance to fix this mess, to fix herself. The failure was hers and hers alone.

“Thank you...for everything, Ms. Harrison.”

The words were a goodbye. They both knew it. Ms. Harrison’s returning smile was gentle and sad.

“I’m so sorry, Julie. Good luck.”

And just like that, Julie Molina was no longer a vocal studies student at Los Feliz High School.

Julie left the classroom feeling for all the world like a woman adrift in an endless sea. Who was she without music? Obviously the answer was whatever version of herself she had been for the last year, but was that really who she was now? Was she really doomed to lose that part of her identity entirely, like a limb that had to be amputated out of necessity but it’s ghost still lingered, useless and ineffective? The thought of existing like this shell of herself for the rest of her life felt overwhelmingly sad but also undeniable. After all, Julie’s music had always been tied to her mother. Without her mom, there was no music left in Julie’s heart anyway.

It was those morose thoughts that consumed her as she made her way down the school hallways, chin tucked low against her chest, hat brim pulled over her eyes so no one would notice the tattletale tear marks down her cheeks. After a year of practice, Julie had become extremely adept at navigating the school hallways basically blind. She hardly ever ran into people anymore. Obviously, because today was The Worst Day of 2020, her luck had to give out exactly at that moment.

“Oof!”

Julie’s breath huffed out in a surprised exhale. With a graceless flailing of arms, she fell backwards smack dab onto her backside, her books completely scattering across the deserted hallway. She blinked a few times in shock, her surroundings coming into focus as she steadied her breathing.

“Hey, watch where you’re-oh! Oh. Sorry, shoulda....shoulda done a better job lookin out.”

One large hand extended in front of her face. Julie followed the line of bare skin upwards to an impressive display of biceps peeking out from the deep side cut of the boy’s homemade tank top. Her gaze wandered further, taking in the shaggy almost too-long brown hair shoved unceremoniously underneath an orange beanie, the soft green blue eyes that were gazing at her with a clear apology. Her own eyes skipped across his face as realization dawned. Well great. Exactly what she didn’t need. Los Feliz’s very own rebel rock-n-roll bad boy here to witness her downfall. She hastily scrubbed the leftover tears from her cheeks, rising from the ground without his help thank you very much.

“No, you’re right. It was my fault. Sorry.”

Her words came out in a clipped rush, red staining her cheeks. She tucked her head back down, maneuvering around the unfairly cute boy in front of her so she could begin to collect her books. Before she could grab more than one, a neat stack was being gently tucked into her arms.

“Nah, Molina. I had my head in the clouds. Second nature to blame someone else for my problems.” The cheeky wink he flashed her was ruined by the thread of contempt running through his last sentence. His careless, cocky shrug was a bit more convincing. “’Sides, everyone knows not to get in the way of a woman on a mission. You clearly have places to be.”

He dipped his head, eyes bouncing across her face as he tried to catch her gaze. She gave him a small, tight smile, reaching up to tuck a lose curl behind her ear. His answering grin felt like the first glimpse of sunshine after a month of rain. The crack in her heart ached in an unfamiliar way, Julie’s hand rising of it’s own accord to rub at the dumb muscle. Their eyes held for a long moment, a weird tension crackling between the two, before Julie bit her lip and broke the stare down. Like Lucas freaking Patterson, king of the Los Feliz musical department, would ever understand what she was dealing with right now. Steeling herself against his too warm gaze, she stepped back.

“Yep. Places to be. Like...not here, so...see ya.”

Her hand rose in a stiff wave. The awkward exit was not her best work, admittedly. And was it just her imagination or had the spark behind his eyes dimmed at her dismissal? Whatever. Didn’t matter. Julie wasn’t a vocal student here anymore. Her path and Luke’s were destined to shoot in opposite directions from this moment forward: his star rising higher as his band continued to take the musical scene by storm, her star hurtling its way down to Earth in a pathetic blaze of glory before snuffing itself out on impact. They wouldn’t meet again after this.

Without a second look back, Julie turned her back on the dejected puppy moonlighting as a teenage boy in front of her and escaped out of the school into the warmth of another glorious LA afternoon.

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chaoticevilbean · 3 years

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Four In One : Chapter Two

Lance nearly flailed when he woke up, only to stop and remember that the Altean blanket was still doing its job. His twenty-plus foot-long wings were hidden in the warmth of a mini space pocket, all four feeling better than ever because of the room within. It wasn't often that he got to stretch his wings, mostly because his wingspan was over forty feet long, and that was just his smaller set. Luckily, there were multiple ballrooms and training rooms that allowed him to practice his flying and properly groom, something that often took vargas.

It wasn't that Lance couldn't fly without extending his wings fully. He had taught himself from a young age to fly with one set of wings or the other, to fly in small spaces, with his wings only partially unfurled or unhidden, with one wing from each set, with only one side's wings. Just because he had four giant wings, didn't mean he was going to let himself fall behind others in something as common as flying.

But Lance didn't have as many opportunities to let his wings out as the others did. Not if he wanted to keep them private. And he did. He wanted to have some clue about how they'd react to wings like his. To impossible wings.

"MINE!" was the screech that tore Lance from his thoughts and woke him up so fast and fully that he did in fact flail, though much less than he had upon his first partial wake-up. And if he wasn't fully awake at that point, he was when a weight suddenly landed on him, forcing his reflexes to push Pidge away from his body. The girl had still been in his arms, and it seemed that she had been woken up by the screech as well.

"Keith, you can't just claim him!" Hunk called out, wrapping his arms around Keith's waist.

"Yeah, we were cuddling and he's warm," Pidge butted in, glaring at the mullethead who caused her to be shoved to safety.

"Please be quiet, it's only six," came a sleepy voice from under black wings. The four teens turned (as much as they could) towards the place where Shiro appeared to only just realize what he had said. Since they had come to space, the teens found it much easier to wake up and go to sleep each night because of the less stressful environment and positive atmosphere they now had. That meant waking up early.

Shiro's wing lifted just enough to show the very drowsy face of one man with a unicorn floof.

"Don't." The teens glanced between each other, before looking back towards their flock leader. "I swear, don't you dare." Keith slowly got off Lance, who was sitting up and hiding his wings, causing the Altean blanket to fall. Hunk let go of Keith as the boy kneeled beside him. "Guys, think about what you're doing." All four were slowly moving forward, standing or kneeling side by side, almost a half-circle around the now slightly panicked Space Dad™. "Guys. Gu-AHHH!"

The teens lunged forward quickly, tackling the man and pinning him with their weight. It was much like what had happened to Lance the day before, only now Hunk was holding Shiro's legs, Keith was holding his waist, Pidge had his stomach and Lance held him by the shoulders. Pidge's arms effective pinned the older man's hands, and he didn't dare use his Galran arm against his flockmates.

"Boop," Lance said as he used his left hand to bop Shiro's floof. The man glared up at his tallest space son, which was ineffective with the braided white hair still bouncing slightly.

"I hate you all."

"No, you don't," came four voices, followed by a flurry of movement as the kids swiftly left the nest, abandoning a seething Shiro. Coran was already in the kitchen, prepping breakfast but waiting to actually make anything for the humans until Hunk approved them as safe and actually delicious. The surrogate uncle was getting much better at telling if something would make his nephews and niece ill, or simply be downright disgusting to them. Allura was setting the table, something Lance starting helping her with immediately, a habit he had developed long ago.

With table set, Allura and Lance went to help Coran and Hunk bring breakfast out. Somehow, they had made the space equivalents of bacon, porridge, toast and eggs, along with a few Altean dishes. Upon returning to the dining room, the four were met with what seemed to be a two-on-one argument: Pidge and Keith versus Shiro.

"I know I saw one, Shiro! Why are you lying?" Pidge shouted, wings puffed up in an adora- irritated way. Keith nodded beside her, lower set of wings rustling a bit.

"Yeah, Shiro! What sort of example are you setting for your children?"

"What is the matter, Paladins?" Allura interjected, not setting down the food yet on the chance they begin launching it at one another.

"These two are obsessed!" Shiro pointed at the two as he moved to stand by Coran, as if the Altean man would protect him.

"Is this another cryptid thing," Lance asked, putting the two trays of food he held down.

"Shiro has scales in his feathers and he won't show us," Pidge pouted, moving over to Hunk to snatch some space bacon from the trays he had.

"If I show you my scales, will you drop it, ya cryptids?" Both of them frantically nodded, extracting a sigh as Shiro turned around. His wings spread out, and he carefully pointed towards the base of them, where they met his back.

The rest of the team pressed inwards, Coran gently moving a few feathers to reveal several streaks of scales, spattered as if someone was drizzling them outwards. They blended in perfectly with the colors of the feathers around them, which was probably how none of them had been noticed during grooming. Lance's breath caught slightly at the sight, because here was something that might be proof. Now, all he needs to do is-

"So do all of us have mutations?" Sweet, beautiful Hunk.

"What do you mean," Keith asked.

"Oh, I get it," Pidge interrupted. "I have unusual coloring, Keith has an extra set of wings, Hunk has extremely large wings, and now we know that Shiro has both feathers and scales. That means that we all technically have mutations." This was Lance's chance.

"Wouldn't it be cool to see wings with all four mutations?" Lance's palms got sweaty as everyone's attention snapped to him. At their looks of confusion, he continued. "I mean, imagine someone with, like, bright blue wings, and four of them, and both scales and feathers and they'd be huge."

"That'd be sick." Hunk's face had a huge grin on it, and he looked like he was going to explode with happiness.

"Can you imagine what sort of secrets wings like those could hold," Pidge exclaimed, bouncing in place before sitting down and bouncing while eating. Hunk joined in, immediately beginning to discuss the possible ways someone could up with wings like that. Coran was pulled in as well, adding his knowledge of more alien mutations.

"Forget the secrets, imagine fighting with four giant wings! Especially with both feathers and scales!" Keith grabbed Shiro's arm, dragging him to the table and blabbering about all the techniques that could be created with both feathers and scales. Shiro looked like he wanted to die, but was still mildly interested.

Allura, however, was watching everyone else talk, having slowly moved over to Lance. She gave him a side glance that was almost knowing. Leaning down, she whispered lowly into Lance's ear.

"Be prepared to be pulled every direction when you show us." Lance tensed, before seeing her warm smile. He nodded to her, and the quick squeeze she gave his arm relaxed him greatly. One down, five to go. The two rushed over to the table together, trying to get some food before the others devoured it all.

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

Lance was pulled aside after only one week in the Garrison, by none other than Iverson. Iverson had apparently seen the second flight Lance had gone for and most definitely seen his wings. But he didn't go crazy, and he didn't get mad, and he didn't in any way raise his voice. Instead, he seemed stern and somehow concerned.

"McClain, I can understand why you are worried, but there isn't a reason. Not yet." Lance remained tense in the chair across the desk from his teacher. "Your grades are good, you have the makings of a fighter pilot. However, you struggle in simulations because of the lack of realism. I've seen it before. Without the actual risk of crashing or hurting someone, you can't perform nearly as well as you could. I've talked with other teachers about this, and we all understand." Lance was very confused at this point. Where was the usually yelling man who everyone already knew as a jerk?

"McClain, you are right to hide your wings from the public. But, if we play the cards right, you might not have to."

"We?" Lance inquired, even more confused and highly curious about this change in behavior.

"Every teacher here has a reputation. My own is not exactly flattering. But each of us are simply trying to push our students. Outside this room, I might yell at you or seemingly insult you, but in here, I can tell you what it means. If you get the best grades possible, connect with whatever team you receive, work as hard as you can and prove that you're one of the best pilots we've ever had, one day the world won't care what your wings look like. I've looked over all your grades and classes and the only person you ever come second with is Kogane. You beat him, a natural prodigy, one I assure you doesn't try nearly as much, and you prove that it doesn't matter what impossible wings you have. You are the best pilot at the Garrison. Do you understand?"

For the coming months, Iverson was true to his words. Every time his words hurt, Lance would head to his office. Iverson explained what he had meant in far gentler terms. Every time he reminded Lance that he was second to Keith, it reminded the boy about their talks. When Lance told Iverson that he might be able to get better scores if his tests were translated, he found his teachers handing him the Spanish version of the tests. Both Iverson and him put on facades of hatred and mutual annoyance.

When Keith dropped out, Iverson pushed Lance even harder. He had a team, one he needed to connect with, and the struggle was real. Pidge couldn't focus that well on the missions, no matter if they were in the simulators or not (the students sometimes got to do real shuttle piloting, though those were far less often). Hunk had very high anxiety, which led to worrying and nausea, which led to vomiting. Lance did the best he could, meaning adding a puke bucket for his roommate, reminding him that the simulator isn't actually dangerous and quelling any anxiety afterwards. It also meant using the newest team addition's obsession against him. Lance reminded Pidge that if it really wasn't a pilot error that caused the Kerberos mission's failure, then something else happened. If Pidge didn't focus, the team would fail and possibly die. If Pidge did focus, the team might make it to higher ranks, maybe even getting to go to Kerberos themselves someday and seeing if they could find the real cause. It didn't help entirely, but it did help.

The night that the Garrison Trio found Shiro was also the night that Lance was going to show his wings to his teammates. They needed to come together, and he thought that showing such trust in them would lead to a better team dynamic. All he needed to do was get Pidge to sneak out with him and Hunk, and then find a safe place to reveal himself.

Then Shiro's pod crashed. Lance and Pidge rushed down to help with Hunk following. They successfully assisted Keith in saving Shiro. They made it to the desert shack. Hunk snooped and found the frequencies that lined up with the canyon picture Keith had. The cave markings lit up at Lance's touch, telling him that he was expected.

Flying the Blue Lion was an amazing experience. She connected to Lance's mind in a way that was unlike anything he had felt before, but at the same time, he knew the feeling. Slow sunsets, warm air, calm seas. She was home and at the same time, not. To bond to her, Lance simply had to be himself. His full self.

The Alteans were a sight to behold as well. Their wings were far more colorful than any humans, besides maybe Pidge's. Allura practically tackled Lance once she became semi-conscious. His lack of wings and pointed ears terrified her half-aware mind, and Lance began flirting to distract her. Coran was quick to realize that distraction was also needed, pretending to fight the air and arguing with the boy he had never met before.

Lance kept Iverson's words in his heart, many of which were beyond what the others could even imagine. For example, the whole "the Kerberos mission failed because of a pilot error" was apparently a ploy to keep the public calm while the government investigated the situation. Lance's rivalry with Keith spawned from the simple fact that Iverson tried to keep Keith out of the mess and he got a black eye for his troubles. Lance's overdramatic confusion about Pidge's gender was to hide the fact that Iverson told him about two hours into being on a team with her. That led to Lance carrying a small amount of painkillers, chocolate, and some pads and tampons, which was handy when there weren't any on hand in space.

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

"Alright, team," Shiro called, watching as the last of the food was swiped from the trays and disappeared in ticks. "We need to train today. Let's start with the invisible maze, then move on to long range weapons, and lastly short range weapons. Tomorrow we'll start close combat with no weapons."

Cheers rang out, since that meant a relatively moderate training day compared to what it could be. Both Shiro and Allura were getting better at judging what quintants were perfect for hard training and which quintants were definitely meant for more lenient drills. Food fights had greatly diminished now that Allura wasn't a tyrant with Shiro behind her.

"Last one to the training room has to do the maze first! And no wings!" Lance shouted as he ran full speed down the hallways. Keith was right on his heels, followed by a Pidge riding a Hunk. Shiro, Allura and Coran's laughter carried after them, the empty halls of the castle filling with sounds of joy.

#voltron #wing au #lance #hunk #pidge #shiro #allura #keith #lance mcclain #hunk garrett #pidge gunderson #takashi shirogane #keith kogane #coran coran the gorgeous man #lance-centric #purple #klance

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not-close-to-straight · 4 years

Text

More Than Words (Twenty-Nine)

REUNION! IT’S BEEN SO LONG. This chapter is a little sad just because our boys have both been lonely and hurt but it’s mostly good because its a reunion and they are ridiculously happy to see each other again. This is the official beginning of the happily ever after which will stretch for the next...four chapters or so until the fic ends so settle down and take a breather from angst, it’s all good things from here on out.

MASTERLIST HERE

********************

“Are you really here?” Peter’s knees went weak and he caught himself with one hand on the door, squeezing the other fingers tight where Wade held them over his heart. “My Alpha. You’re here. Is this real?”

“It’s real, Pete. I’m here, I made it.” Wade’s voice was low in the dark, little more than a rumble and the Omega swore he felt it clear through to his soul. “Cable um-- it was Cable. He brought me back to you.”

“You--you--you--” There was too much space between them, too much space but Peter couldn’t bring himself to close it and fall against his mate. Too many times the Omega imagined this exact moment, too many times he’d woken up in the middle of a dream and reached out for his mate and found nothing but cold pillows. And now after days and weeks and months of despair and depression and misery, the Omega didn’t know if he trusted himself to not be hallucinating.

“Prove it.” he whispered into the quiet room, straining his eyes to see a shape, a shadow, an anything. He could feel Wade only a foot away, he could feel the Alpha’s heart pounding beneath his palm but damn it, Peter had dreamed about that too and he had to be sure.

“Prove it.” he said again, wetting his lips and flexing his fingers against the solid chest. “C’mere closer so I can touch you. I need to really touch you, your scars and the mark at your throat-- come here. C’mere so I know you’re real.”

“Pete.” Hesitation and a hitch in the Alpha’s breath made Peter’s heart plummet. No no no. “You don’t want to touch me right now. I feel like uh-- I mean, I don’t feel good. I don’t feel like you remember. Don’t touch me yet, let me just talk to you for a minute.”

He’s not real. I’m dreaming again.

Bile rose bitter in Peter’s throat and he jerked his hand free from the Alpha, clutching it to his own chest like it burned.

“No Pete, don’t pull away from me. I swear this isn’t--” A pause, a breath like he was searching for words. “--trust me for a second, okay?”

“I’m going to on the lights so I can see you, then.” the Omega felt along the wall for the closest light switch, fighting the de ja vue that told him this was just another dream, just another fantasy, just another nightmare. “I won’t touch you yet but I need to see you.”

“Wait.” Wade sounded desperate this time. “Please sweetheart, please just wait. We should talk about what happened and what the time travel did to me and I don’t want you to scream when you see me. Don’t turn on the lights, let’s just talk in the dark.”

“Oh my god, you’re not real.” Peter’s breath let out over half a sob. Please not this again, I can’t do this again. “My mate wouldn’t ever tell me no if I wanted to touch him, he’d never tell me no about anything. You’re not real. It’s not you, you’re not my Alpha.”

“I swear it’s me.” There was a rush of air like Wade the Alpha the dream lunged for him and Peter flattened himself to the door with a little cry, turned his head and screwed his eyes shut tight and tensed for the inevitable waking, for the nausea that came every damn time he dreamed this sort of thing. “Don’t pull away from me baby boy, I swear I just--”

“Don’t call me that!” The Omega was crying now, and a disbelieving noise came from somewhere right in front of him. “Don’t-- don’t call me ‘baby boy’ when it’s not really you! That isn’t fair! I can usually tell when I’m dreaming about you cos something is always off but this time it felt so real and I thought you were real and I can’t-- I can’t--”

Wade moved on pure instinct when Peter collapsed towards the floor, scooping up his mate and cuddling him close to his chest. “No!” Peter fought against it, flailed at Wade’s arms and beat at his sternum and the Alpha felt his heart crack right down the middle as the Omega sobbed, “I can’t do this anymore. I’m losing my mind-- I’m losing my mind! This isn’t fair! This isn’t fair!”

“My mate.” he whispered hoarsely, locked his arms down around the Omega’s body and tried not to cry himself. “No no my mate, please stop. It’s me. It's me, I’m here I swear it.”

“That’s what they all say!”

That’s what they all say. The Alpha’s heart shattered thinking about Peter dreaming this exact moment over and over only to wake up alone each time. How many times had the Omega been sure it was real? How many times had he reached out to touch or turn on the lights only for Wade to fade away and leave him alone?

That’s what they all say.

“Baby boy.” he tried a second time and Peter wailed in grief. “Hey hey hey listen. Pete, listen!”

“Let go of me.” the Omega was beating at Wade’s chest again, weak punches and ineffective struggles. “Let go of me! Drop me so I wake up! Say something wrong so my mind realizes I’m dreaming. Please! Please don’t do this to me, I can’t take another night like this, I thought I was getting better this week, I thought I was getting better please-- please!”

“Listen!” Wade had promised he’d never order Peter to do anything, had promised never to use an Alpha tone to force the Omega to obey, but he went back on his word and used the command now.

His mate was hysterical and wavering on the edge of a breakdown and the Alpha couldn’t handle that, after everything he couldn’t handle his mate crying when they were supposed to be happy together. So Wade let his voice layer deep and demanding and he snapped, “Omega! Listen! Listen to what I’m telling you! Listen!”

Peter went abruptly quiet, board stiff in Wade’s arms and hissing out anxious breaths through clenched teeth but he listened and he was still as the Alpha cupped his jaw and forced him closer to scent over the bonding spot.

“Listen to me, sweetheart.” Wade was begging now, clutching bruises at Peter’s side and shaking with the effort of keeping himself under control. “Listen to what I’m saying, come here and scent me. I’m real, Pete. I’m real, this isn’t a dream. It’s me. I promise.”

Peter’s nose notched into Wade’s throat and it was a tense two-three-four seconds before he inhaled, it was an unbearable three-four-five hours, it could have been days and a month and an entire year for how long the Alpha held his breath waiting for his mate to to scent at his throat and know him.

“Please.” he asked one more time and finally Peter inhaled--

--and oh oh oh.

Wade was red cedar and black licorice, sun warmed and molasses thick, heavy and heated and everything familiar. It was being home again, it was being well again, it was love and security and soulmates fitting into the shredded edges of the Omega’s heart and bringing him back to whole.

Bringing him back to real.

“You’re really here.” Timid, almost afraid. “Alpha my Alpha you’re here. I’m not dreaming?”

“I’m here.” Wade couldn’t breathe for need of his mate and he knew he was holding Peter too tight, probably even holding on for too long but he couldn’t make himself stop. “You’re not dreaming, I’m here baby.”

“You’re here.” It was borderline alarming the way Peter went limp against Wade’s chest, the way he sobbed in a shaky breath and couldn’t seem to lift his head even long enough to draw a breath away from Wade’s throat. The Omega’s frame was too thin, his breathing still too panicked, ribs prominent beneath his shirt and cheekbones sharp as he nuzzled into Wade’s neck and protectiveness roared up sharp and hungry in the Alpha’s core.

Three months Wade had waited to be right here, three months he’d dreamed about gathering up his Omega and holding him close and now they they were together again, it was all too obvious how much Peter had been suffering alone.

“I’m sorry, Pete.” Wade bumped his nose gently against Peter’s forehead and tried to keep the distress from bleeding into his scent and making the moment worse. “M’sorry you’ve been here alone. I’m never letting you go again. You’re never gonna be alone again.”

“H--how?” Peter was trembling against him, wetting Wade’s ruined skin with tears he couldn’t seem to stop. “How are you here? It’s been three months and you’re-- you’re just here? Just that quick, how is it so easy? I thought it would be impossible.”

“Cable.” Wade held his Omega easily with one arm and carded careful fingers through Peter’s hair with the other hand. “He came and got me, said you needed me and he knew I needed you so here I am.”

“When?”

“Few days ago.” Peter made a ragged, broken off noise and Wade held him tighter. “He said I had to recover enough to come see you. Run some tests and make sure I’d survive in this timeline but I’m here now. I’m here and I’m not leaving, okay? Not--”

He made himself breathe slow as the last several days worth of dread and worry and panic rose up tight in his throat. “Not unless you want me to.”

“Why would I ever want you to leave?” Peter actually snarled the words and Wade’s scent brightened grateful for the immediate response. “You aren’t leaving me. You aren’t leaving me! Wade! How can you even say that!”

“Not unless you want me to sweetheart.” The Alpha repeated and when Peter started to struggle at him again, Wade cut him off to ask, “No more questions, not right now. I really need to hold you.”

Wade went back onto his heels and then to his rear so he could set the anxious Omega tight on his lap. He wrapped one big hand around the base of Peter’s neck, careful not to rub or press too hard so his mate wouldn’t cringe away from the newly rough calluses. “Give me a second so I can hold you, okay? Just-- just a second.”

“My mate--”

“Please, Pete.”

Peter went quiet, forced himself to settle, knotted his fingers in the Alpha’s shirt and leaned in again to push his nose back into Wade’s bonding spot. It felt harsher than the Omega remembered, more heavily scarred or maybe even torn but that didn’t stop him from laying soft, open mouth kisses along the curve of his Alpha’s throat, inhaling as deep as he could manage and exhaling on a quiet, thankful moan.

This was-- things were-- shit, it felt like a goddamn dream to be held close over his mate’s heart when just a few minutes ago he’d been walking with Gwen and talking about nothing important. The emotional whiplash of thinking it was a hallucination and he was barreling towards a full blown mental break and then suddenly crying into his Alpha’s arms was enough to give him a headache but Peter ignored the throbbing and curled closer into his mate, counting Wade’s heartbeats like he’d done all those nights after the lion attack.