#in my ideal world they roll their eyes at each other and grit teeth when they have to talk | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

megan-is-mia · 3 years

Note

Could I ask for Peacock Vil with #209? Like he's in his mating season and she is rejecting all his advances.

(This one is kind of long sorry) 209. “The way you say my name feel so fucking good…keep saying it.” (Yandere! Peacock Vil Schoenheit x Fem! S/o) (WARNING NSFW AND NON-CON AHEAD!)

Ever since she was a young girl (Y/n) had known what her future would be. Born to a concubine in the Peacock King’s harem there was only one fate open to her: to become a harem-girl like her mother before her and serve her master obediently. This fact had been drilled into her since toddlerhood. Yet there was something that gave her hope and kept her from fully accepting her destiny. She had a special friend, a secret friend who lived in the castle as well. They’d never seen each other’s faces but spoke to one another every day through a hole in the wall between the two grand gardens of the palace. Her friend called themself Scélérat, and they loved two things: knowledge and beauty. Each day they would teach (Y/n) new things they’d learned from the books in the library.

With every scrap of knowledge (Y/n) gained she found new strength in herself. When she was with Scélérat she wasn’t just a lowly harem girl, she was a person who mattered in this world. Yet as the years went by things began to change, she began to be plagued with more and more duties to make her into the ideal concubine. Even worse the Peacock King’s son Vil demanded that she become his personal servant and tend to him daily.

“(Y/n) why do you stand so far from my side? Come closer darling I won’t bite” Vil cooed as he lounged back on the chaise longue and gestured for the servant to come closer. (Y/n) grit her teeth but obeyed, she despised the peacock-man and his father and everything they stood for. If it wasn’t for the king and the prince, she and her mother would not be bound to a life of sexual servitude.

Vil pulled (Y/n) down into his lap as she came closer, she had grown more beautiful than he could ever have hoped for. He still remembered with total clarity when he’d first met her, back when they were children still innocent of heart. She’d been crying in the garden and he’d spoken to her through the wall. (Y/n) had spilled out her sorrows to him and he felt his heartache for the first time in his life.

He hadn’t told her his name then, for that would have ruined everything. To her, he would be Scélérat, someone she could always depend on to be there for her and lift her up. But as time has gone by their meetings had grown shorter and less frequent, it was not her fault that she wasn’t able to meet him. (Y/n) was blooming into a beautiful young woman and therefore she had to know her duties as a concubine.

That didn’t mean he would let her slip away from him. Sure for now she may not love him as Prince Vil, but he would win her yet. He was sure of it, she had no choice in the matter. When he became king he would dismiss most of the harem that his father had amassed. Of course, he would make sure the concubines went to good homes but he would not need so many women to keep him happy. The only woman he needed to be happy was (Y/n), she would be his queen in all but name. He wished he could make her queen proper but he knew patience would be key to being successful in his endeavors. If he gave her that power before he knew for certain that she was loyal to him everything could go down in flames. Vil could not let the love in his heart cloud his judgment on the matter.

(Y/n) hated how intimately the prince touched her. His hands made her skin crawl and she felt like she needed to scrub her skin clean after every encounter with him. The other harem girls gossiped that she must be his favorite since she was the only girl he’d ever called to his chambers. However, she did not care whether or not she was the prince’s favorite for she would never care for him.

For her heart already belonged to another, her beloved Scélérat, yes they were her beloved. Though she had never had the courage to tell them of her feelings for them and now she was unlikely to ever have the chance to tell them with the prince hoarding her time and body. The only relief she had was the fact the prince and king’s mating season would soon start and none would be allowed near their rooms nor them. Perhaps in this downtime (Y/n) would gain from the prince’s season she’d be able to speak to Scélérat again and set things straight. However, until the season started she would be quite busy with Prince Vil. In the week leading up to his mating season, the prince began acting strangely towards her. One could almost call it affectionate, the way he spoke to her and tried to shower her in gifts of clothes and jewelry. “He must be trying to court you” another harem girl suggested when (Y/n) spoke of her concerns one evening. “The gift-giving, the affectionate words, the only sensible explanation is that his more bestial brain is piloting and he wants you to be his mate” she added making (Y/n) cringe with disgust. Her? The prince’s mate? No way! There was no way she would ever become the prince’s mate!

Yet despite her unwillingness, she found herself being locked in with the prince on the day his rut started. At first, he seemed totally unaware of her presence in the room, jerking furiously on his bed and grunting in a low voice. This was a side of Vil she’d never seen before, who was this unrefined creature unable to think of anything but sex? She could almost feel pity for him, almost.

(Y/n) was so deep in her thoughts that she didn’t even notice when the prince had given up trying to pleasure himself and was creeping towards her. Suddenly she found herself being pulled and forced down on the bed as Vil climbed atop of her with a lecherous grin. (Y/n) grimaced and tried to kick him off even as he leaned down to capture her lips in a hungry kiss and ran his hands down her sides.

“Finally, I have you where I want you… I’ve been waiting for this day for years” Vil said in a coo as he pulled away from the kiss. “Ever since we were young I knew you were the one for me my darling” he added leaning in for another kiss. (Y/n) turned her head away confused by the prince’s words. “What… What are you talking about! You aren’t making any sense!” she said, trying to kick him again. “Even when we’re this close to one another you still don’t recognize me? You cannot recognize your oldest friend?” the prince said, leaning down to speak in (Y/n)’s ear. “Your dear Scélérat sits before you and yet you do not see?” he whispered before pressing a kiss to her ear. This revelation froze (Y/n) to her core, the prince… he was the one she’d loved for so long? Impossible! She could not accept, she would not accept this to be true!

“I don’t believe you! You must be lying! Scélérat is a good person, unlike you! He would never let me remain a harem girl if he had the power to free me like you do!” (Y/n) said in a hiss. “Oh I have every intention of freeing you, just not yet… first I must become king so I can make you my wife” Vil said nuzzling the young woman playfully. “But such serious matters can wait until another day, let us enjoy each other’s company” he concluded.

(Y/n) knew exactly what he meant by “enjoy each other’s company” and she wanted none of it. She tried to push him away again even as he kissed down her front, yanking her top down to lavish her breasts with attention. (Y/n) had never had the curiosity to try touching herself in such a matter and as such her body jolted with the new sensations Vil forced upon her with his mouth and hands.

“You saved yourself for me didn’t you darling?” the peacock-man said with a croon, his hands darting further down (Y/n)’s body to run down her thighs. “I wish I had the patience to wait until our wedding night to do this… but I suppose there really is nothing wrong with getting started on making an heir right?” he mused to himself as the young woman below him felt her blood run cold. Her? Carry the prince’s heir? She couldn’t think of many things worse than bearing a child for this man! Perhaps she could stop him from doing this tonight? Maybe she could spare herself such a fate by taking command now? (Y/n) reached down clumsily searching for the prince’s cock and taking it firmly in her grip. Without hesitation, she began jerking him off quickly as he began to buck into her hold. “Mmmph fuck that feels so good” Vil said, his tail feathers spreading behind him as he fucked himself into the girl’s fist and let his head lol back in pleasure. It didn’t take long for him to cum messily onto (Y/n)’s body with a weak grin. “That was delightful darling, now allow me to return the favor” the prince said situating himself between the girl’s thighs. He pulled her undergarments aside before pressing his mouth to her cunt. This was not what she had wanted to have happen! She’d touched him hoping that it would be enough to please him so he wouldn’t impregnate her. He wasn’t supposed to try and return the favor of pleasuring! (Y/n) weakly kicked at the prince as he sucked on her clit and drove his tongue deep into her cunt. It felt like he was trying to clean her insides out with his mouth and she could feel her eyes rolling back in her skull. “P-puh-prince Vil!” (Y/n) squealed desperately and to her surprise, the peacock-man stopped. “The way you say my name feel so fucking good…keep saying it” the prince groaned out before he began tongue-fucking her again. It didn’t take long until the harem girl was seeing white and cumming all over Vil’s face. He licked up her release greedily before spreading her legs and scooting so his cock brushed against her pussy.

“I’ll try to be gentle, considering this is your first time… but I can't promise I won’t lose control” Vil cooed before starting to sink into (Y/n)’s depths. It didn’t take much before the young woman was squirming with discomfort. The prince was so big compared to her and his cock was just as proportionally big. The kisses that he pressed to her face did nothing to ease the pain he was causing her at this moment. “Hold on for me darling… I just need to get all the way in and then I'll make you feel really good” the prince promised. He continued to sink into her, stretching her like she’d never been stretched before. His fingers teased her clit made it almost bearable but still it wasnt enough to take the pain away. Finally, Vil was all the way in and let out a long gasp. He nuzzled (Y/n)’s shoulder before kissing it.

“You feel so tight around me… it feels amazing… I'm going to make you feel amazing too” the peacock-man said, his tail feathers shaking with delight. He pulled back a little bit before slamming back into (Y/n) with a grunt. He repeated this action over and over again each time striking a spot deep inside the harem girl’s cunt that made her see stars and moan for him like he wanted. Gradually Vil’s movements got faster and faster, gripping the bedframe as he fucked (Y/n) with all his might. The young woman came so many times yet the prince showed no signs of wearing out despite the many times he had also cum as he pounded her into the bed. “I’m gonna plant an entire nest in your womb darling… you’ll like that won’t you? Soon you’ll be a wife, a mother, and a queen just like you deserve…” THE END

#Twisted Wonderland #Yandere Twisted Wonderland #TWST #Yandere TWST #Yandere Vil Schoenheit #Vil Schoenheit

199 notes · View notes

rafescoke · 3 years

Text

Crime ; Part 3

masterlist

Part #3

Read the previous parts here:

Part #1, Part #2

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Maybe life just doesn’t go your way sometimes.

Warnings: heavy writings on death! angst, just two people being in love but one of them is scared

A/N: ideas are inspired by @pogueslandia literally the sweetest <3

Maybe Rafe was overthinking it.

He ran his fingers through her hair, his arms all wrapped up around her. The golden sunlight hit them squarely on the face, and the weather never looked so inviting.

“Stop thinking,” he whispered, pulling her close. He placed a soft kiss on the crown of her head.

She hummed, letting him caress her. The guilt was eating her away, and she hasn't felt good for a week now.

5 more days until John B’s death sentence.

And yet, here she was; all wrapped up with the boy she loved in the Bahamas.

Rafe thought it would be ideal to bring her away from the chaos. Her parents thought it was a good thing too, with all of the commotion and rebellion by the pogues. It was her second day in the strange place, but even with all of the soothing sounds coming from the waves, she couldn’t forget about John B.

Rafe sighed, “Is it about John B?”

“No,” she quickly said. She bit her lips, blinking to stop her tears from crashing down.

“I love you,” Rafe breathed. His fingers stayed on her stomach, and it was a pleasing sight to see; two people in love. If only one has never committed a murder.

(Y/N) pursed her lips, because she couldn’t utter the words back. She loved him, of course, but she was scared. It wasn’t like it was Rafe’s fault entirely; he gave her a chance to confess, but she didn’t.

Love is truly a blinding bitch.

. . .

“You guys came back early,” Ward said, helping them out with the bags. He turned to look at (Y/N), and then back to Rafe. He sighed.

“What is it?”

“She’s not feeling well,” Rafe mumbled. His eyes were tired, showing how they have been fighting since god knows when. (Y/N) didn’t look any well either, keeping to herself the whole time from their departure.

Ward made to grab his arms before he could follow (Y/N) into the house. “Control her.”

“She’s not a dog,” he said through gritted teeth. He pulled his arms away, seething.

“She’s going to tell on you.”

“She won’t,” Rafe answered back, but he too, wasn’t sure.

Because all of her actions were showing him otherwise.

She wasn’t like (Y/N) he knew anymore, but he took it as her way to cope with the situation.

“What is wrong with you?” Rafe finally asked. He plopped onto the bed beside her, his lips curling.

“I’m just tired.”

“All we did in the Bahamas was sleep,” he scoffed. “You can’t use that excuse, (Y/N), come on.”

“Maybe if you actually try to understand me you’ll get it.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” she sighed. She laid her back against his bed and closed her eyes, letting the darkness take over.

“So like what? You’re going to tell the cops, huh? Is that what you’re going to do?”

“God, can you let me breathe? We’ve just had a long fucking flight.” Her eyes opened, feeling so exhausted from the overwhelming situation. She didn’t know what to do, but fighting with Rafe was definitely not on the list.

“Whose fucking fault is that?” He mumbled before standing up.

Rafe exited the room, wanting to get away from her as soon as possible. He could feel it. He could see what was going to happen. He thought of this exact moment, but he didn’t really want to act on it out of fear.

He wasn’t sure if he would ever hurt her.

Sometimes he felt like doing it, but he just couldn’t. Everytime her eyes set on him, he felt like seeing her for the first time again.

“Hey, I’m sorry.”

(Y/N) wrapped her arms around Rafe’s waist as he stood near the railing of the porch. The sun was setting in, and it would look so mesmerising; just them two, but the feeling was long gone.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, and breathed into her scent.

His girl. His.

. . .

(Y/N) was sleeping right beside him.

She looked so peaceful, her hair fixed to one side and her chest heaving slowly.

He couldn’t help but place a soft kiss on her temple.

She shifted, groaning slightly.

Rafe panicked, “Shit, I’m so sorry, baby. Go back to sleep.”

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” She grunted, shifting her position to face him. “It’s midnight.”

“Can’t sleep.”

(Y/N) sighed, and pulled him close to her. “Go to sleep.”

He smiled, laying his head against her chest now, and he could feel her heart beating.

A few minutes after, he felt her poking him. “You’re asleep yet?”

“No.”

“Wanna go swimming?”

“Where?”

“The beach.”

Rafe smiled, “You’re not tired?”

“Am tired. But you can’t sleep.”

She guided him to the exit, her hair messy from her slumber before. The moonlight glowed from above, illuminating the pathway to the beach behind her home.

They sat on the beach for a while, just staring into the never ending landscape, until Rafe pulled her close again.

“I love you.”

(Y/N) smiled. “I know.”

She couldn’t. She just couldn’t utter it back.

He removed his shirt, revealing his toned figure, and pulled her up her feet. She giggled, removing her own tank top and shimmying out of her shorts. She was completely naked now, and allowed herself to be pulled into the water.

Strange enough, the water was not too cold or too hot. Just perfect. It was like the night was made for them.

She giggled when Rafe pulled her further into the darkness, and a sudden thought of a strange creature in the water occurred to her.

She reached for Rafe, her eyes trying to see through the water even though it was nearly impossible.

Rafe laughed, holding her tight. Her chest was all pushed up against him, and he had never looked at something more beautiful than her.

“We’re gonna die.”

“Probably,” he rolled his eyes. “Maybe there’s that dinosaur from Jurassic World down here.”

She hit Rafe from the sudden thought of a monster underneath her, and went to swim away. Rafe laughed again, pulling her quickly by her wrist and letting her lay against his chest again.

“I’m kidding. I’ll kill a monster for you.”

They stared at each other again, breathing in each other’s presence, and finally, he closed in the distance.

She melted into the kiss, feeling so good she never wanted to let go of that boy. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close, and it was all so perfect;

Like something out of a book.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered. He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, admiring her eyes, and placed another soft kiss. “So, so perfect.”

(Y/N) smiled, always loving this side of Rafe. The side she knew before he. . .

She made to move away, but Rafe grabbed her again. He sighed, “What is it?”

“I have to go,” she mumbled, and swam towards the beach. Rafe pulled her again, still so unsatisfied, because the moment was perfect, right?

They were kissing, he was telling her that he loved her.

What else could he do?

“What did I do?”

“Rafe, just let go,” she said, and pried her hands away.

This time, he let her go.

. . .

Rafe thought it was finally time to make it right again.

His relationship was getting rockier, and he intended for a smooth ride again. He straightened the dark blue suit he got from Chapel Hill, eyeing his watch from time to time.

“Hey,” (Y/N) smiled, brushing her fingertips along his face.

The gazebo was set exactly like the first time they met; all bright with fairy lights and smelled of floral candles. Her breath hitched at the sudden memory of that night.

“You don’t have to do this,” she said.

“I want to,” Rafe shrugged, helping her to her seat. He brushed her hair for good measure before going back to his seat. “You’re okay?”

She shifted uncomfortably, “Yeah.”

They ate in silence. The only sound came from the clanking of the cutleries and the plate, and the constant sipping of the wine.

Okay. Maybe what she did was wrong.

But he’ll get out of it, right?

He got money, the best lawyer in the states, and a high position.

They wouldn’t put him through the death sentence.

Right?

“I think it’s time,” Rafe said suddenly. (Y/N) looked up from her plate, her heart thumping wildly. Her eyes scanned the lake, and back to him.

Rafe walked towards her, his mouth forming a bright smile. He reached for his pocket, pulling out a white box-

No. This couldn’t be.

(Y/N) won’t accept this.

She simply just won’t.

They’re too young.

Too afraid.

“No,” she said, scraping her chair to the back. “No, Rafe.”

Rafe’s smile disappeared, his eyes turning low. “What?”

“No. I, I- I won’t accept it.”

The diamond ring glimmered under the lantern, and (Y/N) noticed something similar from it.

Her breath hitched.

Of course it would be the same promise ring she threw at him last year. Except it was updated.

“It’s my mom’s ring,” he took a step closer. “What’s wrong? Don’t you want this?”

More than anything.

Her chest heaved, and she quickly put her hands up before him, as if protecting herself. “Rafe, I can’t. I’m so sorry.”

He took a step closer, because god, he was so, so confused. He loved her more than anything in the world; more than himself.

He was unsure about a lot of things, but not this.

“Rafe,” she warned, still putting her hands up. “Please? I’m sorry.”

“I don’t understand?” He whispered. His eyes were now filled with tears, and (Y/N) used all of her energy to stay away from him.

For her own good.

“I just can’t.”

She stole a glance at his watch. She glanced at the lake again, her heart beating wildly.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” she said. His forehead creased, and the tears were now completely wetting his suit. The ring was still left untouched in the box, still glimmering in the hope to be wrapped around someone’s finger.

“Is it because-” he whispered. “Is it because of JJ? Did I do something wrong?”

“Rafe, stop,” she shook her head. “It’s not anyone’s fault. Let it go.”

He took a deep breath. The box closed with a snap, and Rafe kept it back securely in his pocket. He held his head, walking away from her, muttering curses incoherently.

“We can still be together.”

“Fuck off,” he laughed. He pressed his back against one of the railings, closing his eyes and admitting to the darkness. His head felt light, and his fingers were trembling.

“Rafe-” she walked towards him, placing a hand against his cheeks. He leaned into her, feeling her warmth, and didn’t try to stop the tears from falling. “I’m sorry, okay?”

It was like falling down from a cliff; too fast, and everything happened in just a blink of an eye.

Lights were coming from all directions, hitting them squarely on the face. Rafe protected his eyes from the red and blue lights, groaning, all the while searching for (Y/N).

But she wasn’t there.

“What the fuck?” He said to no one in particular, looking around wildly. Whatever the reason was, the police were coming to him; straight and fast. He knew he didn’t have time to reach for his car, not without (Y/N).

“We’re not going to hurt you, son,” a voice bellowed from the lake. Rafe tried to see the figure, but the light was too blinding. “We’re going to make it fast and easy.”

“What did I do?” He said, still trying to keep his cool, but it was failing miserably.

Anyone could see that Rafe Cameron was scared.

Maybe it was the rejection from earlier. He didn’t know. What he was sure of was; he wanted to get away.

The gazebo was guarded by the police now, and (Y/N) was nowhere to be seen. He sighed, taking a seat on her chair and grabbing the wine bottle. He downed the content, his heart beating wildly and his forehead clammy.

It’s time.

. . .

He had never felt this painful before.

His head was throbbing, and his chest was soaring with agony in all the right places. He trembled as he sat up straight, trying to clear off his blurriness.

It failed miserably when he reached for the toilet bowl, emptying his already empty stomach for the third time today. Rafe was sure 98% of the vomit was his bile, and he wished for nothing more than death.

Everyone does this to him.

Every. Single. Person.

Ward tried helping him, hiring the best lawyer in the United States of America, but the chances for him to be freed were low. So, so low.

They told him that he did multiple offenses in one go.

He couldn’t name any of it, and he has accepted his fate anyways. He didn’t see the point in living when the girl he loved was no longer there in the light.

His memory was fading really fast, and everything that happened around him seemed like a dream. He wanted to reach reality, but he wouldn’t allow himself.

“Cameron, you got a visitor.”

“Tell Ward that I’m okay with getting killed.”

“It’s not your papa, boy,” the police sighed. “It’s a girl.”

His head perked up at ‘girl’. Maybe it was Wheezie, coming to see how fucked up her brother is. He bit his lips, stopping the incoming tears from the thought of Wheezie alone.

He followed the officer down the jail, his eyes scanning the other cellmates. Some jeered at him, knowing him as the ‘rich boy who never got himself into jail because of money’, and loving the fact that Rafe Cameron was finally getting the treatment he deserved.

Rafe sat in the empty room, his eyes staring at the bent part of the metal table. He remembered this room clearly; the room he was forced into questioning and had seen him cry until there were no tears left to cry.

He waited a few more seconds, only hearing some noisy sounds coming from the old air conditioning.

“Okay, thank you.”

His head turned to behind him, hearing her voice so clearly now that his heart was soaring again. He watched as she entered the small room, not looking at him, and placed herself before him.

“Hi, Rafe.”

Rafe stared at her, not saying anything. His thumbs were fiddling with each other under the handcuffs, and his legs were shaking wildly.

He had missed her more than anything in the world.

She looked so much healthier; her hair was up in a ponytail, and her cheeks were rosy and bright.

She didn’t look miserable like him.

“How are you?”

What a stupid question.

“What do you think?” He asked, tilting his head to one side. “Are you my therapist, or something? Did Ward hire some kind of a prison therapist to help me stay positive until the day I’m hanged?”

She sucked in a breath. “Rafe, I’m trying to help you.”

“Congra-tu-fucking-lations,” he smiled. “I’m getting the death sentence. Would you care to watch me getting hanged tomorrow? It'll be like seeing me play volleyball on the beach like last time.”

Oh god.

She didn’t know.

How could she?

They told her that everything will be alright, that he will be released after paying a large sum of money. It would be unfair to the sheriff, but at least no one is getting killed at the end of the day.

How could she be so fucking naive?

“I didn’t know.”

He laughed, “It’s okay. Would you come and see me though? It’ll be a damn pleasure.”

“Rafe, stop,” she said, clutching onto the table. “You’re not getting hanged, okay? I’m sorry. I’ll get you out of this.”

He softened, finally realizing what he had been saying. He sighed, still fiddling with his thumb, and looked at her again. “There’s nothing else left to do. We did everything.”

“No, no, I can fix this-”

“(Y/N),” he sighed. He placed his cuffed hands on the table, asking for hers, and she gladly accepted them. She bit her lips, failing to stop her tears now that she felt him around her again.

Her sweet, sweet boy.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I accepted it. It’s my fault. There’s nothing you can do.”

There was a knock on the door, and (Y/N) jerked slightly from the sudden commotion.

3 more minutes.

“It doesn’t have to be this way.”

“There’s no other way,” he whispered. “But you will always be my love, okay?”

She held him in her fingers now, caressing his face. She ran his fingers over the new scratches on his face a few times, soothing the pain down, and placed a soft, longing kiss on his lips.

He kissed her back, feeling better slightly, and only pulled away when the second knock rang throughout the room.

“Yes, by the way.”

“What?” He asked, confused. His eyes were teary because god, he wished he could do better for her.

For them.

“Yes to marrying you.”

He laughed. What a stupid thing to say a day before his death sentence. But he loved it. More than anything else in the world. He softened, “I don’t have the ring.”

She guided his hands, sliding an imaginary ring over her ring finger, and she examined it admiringly under the white light.

“Thank you,” he said.

It was brief; their moment of happiness, but it was enough for Rafe. He couldn’t think of anything better than this, knowing that the love of his life had accepted to be with him.

(Y/N) pulled him in for another kiss as the last knock blared, and they stayed in that position after the door was opened, revealing the same officer who had brought her in. She gave (Y/N) a warm pat on the back, allowing her to give Rafe another long, last kiss.

He could still taste her when she walked out, her eyes all wet now, her mouth whimpering.

He put a hand up, waved it slightly to the right, his own eyes glassy.

“I love you,” he mouthed.

. . .

Rafe didn’t know what to expect the next morning.

He watched many crime documentaries and movies involving a death penalty before, but he never truly put his mind on what he would be feeling on the walk to the inviting creature called death.

After (Y/N), Ward came to see him. They didn’t say much, only exchanging a few words of “how are you?” And “I’m okay”. But it was clear Ward Cameron was broken at the sight of his son.

He failed as a father.

He wished he could’ve been a better father to Rafe, because god, he loved him too much. He even thought of admitting to the crime, but the crime was too strong on Rafe’s side.

He gave his one and only son a last, longing hug. They held each other in complete silence, just feeling the moment until an officer came, pulling Rafe away.

He didn’t even get to say I love you.

“You’re okay?”

Rafe looked at whoever was responsible to kill him beside him, and nodded. “Yep.”

He looked down at his white suit and sighed. “Can I wear something proper?”

The man pushed him into the room, annoyed at his impulsive words.

This boy just killed a goddamn sheriff, and he was still joking?

“Rot in hell,” he told Rafe, to which he accepted the remark willingly.

The executioner motioned for him to step on the tool, and Rafe thought about the simpler times in his childhood where he was told to stand on a stool in middle school by a teacher for kicking on a boy who touched Sarah on her newly washed hair.

He couldn’t even remember the last time he saw her.

The executioner, blinded by the black cloth around his head, looped the rope around his neck, and Rafe involuntarily swallowed his saliva.

He looked down at his fingers, imagining his wedding ring. He smiled, looking up to the ceiling, watching as the white light blinded his eyes.

Maybe in another life.

@okayshoto @joselyn001 @onceuponateenagetrash @dyingsleeping @iwannabeapogue @meaganjm @rafesobxs @flossy2929 @unfortunatekiwitrash @scottybitch @asimpwriter @amaya124 @tommy-tommo @thatshithurted8 @fallincindy @marvelwhor3 @rafeswh0ree @kookap @supernaturallydc-blog @blank-velvet @alaniskauany @kiiim8 @witchywrter @kaitlyn2907 @heyimflo @overcookedpastasause @tsukkiswifeey @spidey-d00d @anonymousobxfan @gotmeinloveagain @chicagoblackhawkslover96 @lexi-writes @classydragonthingknight @belongtoyou-u @badbussylol @savannah-elliott @angelreyesgirl100 @haterpenny @beehappyyy @alwaysclassyeagle @maybankslut @kayleea122 @clearbolts @lovelyxtom @christianaevans @jemimah-b99 @opierdalacz @dangerdolns @wildflowerliv @classygirlything21 @pogueslandia

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smuts #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron one shot #outerbanks #outerbanks imagines #outerbanks x reader #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey imagines

154 notes · View notes

real-sotenbori-hours · 3 years

Note

Hello there 💖 Love your writing and just finished yakuza 0, and if you're up for it, I'm in the mood for something different. I love Majima, but I'm craving drama atm. What if he and his badass beauty of a s/o are getting it on and he calls Makoto's name by mistake? New bae is sweet, makes his lunches, but is NO Makoto! How shook is she? Can the couple reconcile or is that the deal breaker?

This is a terrific prompt... I’ve been dealing with some roller coaster emotions as of late so I appreciate a drama req. Pls be patient and I’d love to write this. TYSM for requesting <3

Mistaken Makoto

Reader is Female

Mild smut, angst, mentions of trauma

***WARNING: YAKUZA 0 SPOILERS***

What a day. If she didn't stay and help up, who would?It had been this way all week, and Y/N had only realized how emotionally and physically drained she truly was at the end of it all, which couldn't be more ideal because nothing is worse than realizing how thanklessly overworked one is in the very midst of the issue itself. Thankfully she now had a couple of days off to decompress and relax and the first things on her mind were a quick snack, a cup of tea and hopefully some pleasures of the flesh with her all too irresistible man. She desperately needed some bliss to tear her from her incredibly demanding lack of work/life balance. Good thing her man was more than understanding.

They didn't reside together, but Majima's flat was a lot closer (and fancier) than her place, so she typically crashed there in the evenings especially after late work days. Her apartment was more of a storage unit for her belongings and less urgently needed clothes as she usually spent her nights at his place. Though he'd been pushing the idea of moving in together for months, it was just so much work to pack her stuff and close out her lease and with her long hours as of late, she didn't have the energy to seal this lingering loose end. She planned on it, but something else held her back from making it official. She hadn't even had the time to analyze her trepidation, it was just there, and something far more easily avoided. Money wasn't an issue, so she couldn't complain. She'd get around to it soon enough.

It was a damp, sultry evening... an hours' long rain had set a sexy mist in the air and with the low lights of Kamurocho illuminating her quick and safe walk home, she felt like a seductive evening at home was just what the doctor ordered. Majima had texted her only a couple hours prior, hinting at the same theme as he'd just settled some big work things and wanted to relax. He'd offered a lovely night on the town but because Y/N was stuck at work just a little later than usual, a hot night at home seemed like the move. He'd warned that he was settling in for a nap, and to wake him when she arrived.

Her plan was to forego the food and tea, strip down and slip into bed with him... he loved being awakened by her eager warmth.

After locking the door, she dropped her coat and shimmied out of each of her professional garments, slowly sauntering into the bedroom from which only a dim light from the bathroom shone due to the door being slightly ajar.

What a marvel --- his back was to her, his irezumi slightly visible in the dim light and partial obscurity of blanket. No matter how many times she'd seen it wet, dry, slightly irritated from her nails raking its flesh, it still made her skin tingle. She loved Majima Goro through and through and was willing to do anything for him. He treated her like a Queen and still offered her the world if she needed anything. He respected her independence, always offered to support her if she so desired, and was in turn endlessly grateful for her love and commitment to him. Many a time she wondered how in the fuck that she was The One to tame a yakuza boss... but she had. It was so natural and uncomplicated, she never batted an eye. It was sparks in the air the first time they met and every day and night since.

By the time she reached the bed, she was beautifully nude and ready. As much as she needed him and his attentions, she wanted to at least begin by lavishing him with attention while rousing him from his slumber. It drove him crazy.

After slipping beneath the linens, pressed against him, she kissed his shoulder, slowly and deliberately and then made her way down the back of his arm while slipping her hand along his back and over his hip, gripping the bone. He groaned, rolling on his back as she snuck up to his ear.

"Mmmm, I'm home...."

No further words necessary, he wrapped his arms around her as she straddled him, kissing and biting his lobe, down his neck, stopping to suck along his clavicle. His hands found their way to her hips as he gripped them and urged them to rock back and forth, but she wanted to prolong it. She needed to tease a little.

His eye remained closed, his breathing grew heavier as he gripped her hips hard enough to bruise. She adored it.

Leaning in to kiss his neck, she traveled up to his lips, leaving quick and desperate pecks along them before sinking herself on him. She rubbed his pecs delicately before leaning back and gripping his thighs, preparing to ride him. Just as she'd begun to establish a momentum, his hands gripped her forearms, his eye still shut tightly, lips parted. She raised herself, holding steady, slowly sinking down on him again just as he moaned... "I've missed you..."

She loved it when he mused in the throes of it. She bounced a few times, leaning in to kiss him again, harder, taking his bottom lip and kissing his chin... leaning in further to whisper, "I've missed you too..."

He slid his hand up the back of her neck, gripping and keeping her close. He turns his head, eye still screwed tightly shut as he kisses her cheek. She rolls her hips again. He rubs his lips along her lobe, sighing.

"Mmmm..."

She slams her hips harder, urging him to chase his release as he continues to keep her pinned to him, gritting his teeth. She loves his scent, his sweat, she wants to lap up every bit of it.

"....Mmmma..."

She bites at his clavicle, sucking tenderly as she continues pumping him with her entire body, just wanting to make him feel so good for no reason but adoration and appreciation for him... She just wants to hear him moan and watch his face contort as he fully surrenders.

She sits up, one last slam as she tightens herself around him. She descends, pulsing on him, cradling his head as his lips part one more time. He exhales, groaning.

"....Makoto...."

Screeeeeeeeeeech.

Y/N's heart, stomach, hell, fucking everything dropped. Without a second thought, she pressed her hands on each side of her along the bed and dismantled herself, rising.

His eye flew open, his head frantically turning, searching for his girlfriend, who was promptly planning on redressing and bolting before the tears could burst out of her into every direction. What the fuck?!

"Oy!" He shouts, sitting up, still registering.

She's already made it out of the bedroom, picking up every piece of her clothing trail and hurriedly putting them back on with the urgency of a burning building.

She's grabbing her bag off of the counter as he barges into the kitchen, wrapped in the linens. "OY! Where the hell ya think yer goin'?"

She takes a deep breath and turns around to face him, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I'm leaving. Fuck off."

"What in the hell for? What's the matter?!"

ARE YOU SERIOUS.

She steps forward and shoves him with a single, open hand. Bag still in her other hand. "FOR CALLING ME 'MAKOTO' WHILE I'M FUCKING ON TOP OF YOU. ARE YOU FUCKING OUT OF YOUR MIND?!"

He catches himself, grabbing the counter and throws his head in his other hand. "Jesus Christ, I'm a little drunk, babe. I'm sorry..."

"Yeah, great. Well, you can be sorry alone. I'm going home."

"Nah c'mon don't be like that, it was a mistake, I love ya and ya know that, don'tcha?"

"You know honestly, I'm not sure. If you're thinking of her while I'm giving it to you, giving you my fucking body, my affection, my time, I think the mistake is my being in this entire fucking equation. I must be insane. I knew there was a reason I wasn't ready to move out of my place yet...."

"Nah babe it's not like that, I swear. I'm really sorry, I know that didn't feel good but I was in such a deep sleep I really wasn't thinkin---"

"---ABOUT ME. You were thinking of another woman. While I'm here. Are you serious? Do you have any idea how much I love you, how you might as well have shoved your tanto straight into my chest? That would've felt better than to hear another woman's name come out of your fucking mouth..."

Majima realized this wasn't a conversation he could charm his way out of. All of the times he came home battered, bruised and bleeding? Yeah after a few minutes of patching, he could calm her down. All of the times he was stuck at the office late and hadn't eaten in hours, she'd bring him something home cooked, knowing full well that none of his favorite shops were open. She'd beg him to come and get some sleep but he'd assure her that he'd get it done and be fine. She'd take it all in stride, this was the man she loved, it was par for the course.

But being called another woman's name, one that held such a crushing significance in his life? Nah.

"...I'm leaving. I need space. Leave me alone for a few days." His eye flew open as he nearly tripped over the blanket, dashing to her and grabbing her arms.

He knelt, looking up at her pleadingly.

"Y/N, baby, please. Please. Yer everythin' ta me. Please don't go..."

She sighed, too tired to even fight the tears. She let them roll.

"I can't do this, Goro. Maybe you love me, but obviously I'm not everything to you. Maybe it's unfair for me to demand to be, but it's what you are to me, and I can't compromise. I won't find myself in another love in which my feelings aren't matched."

"They are matched, babe. Please just stay so we can talk about it. If ya don't wanna stay after that, fine, but please gimme a minute to explain..."

"Goro, what's there to explain? If she's still in such a dominant place in your mind, then what's left for me? I can't share your affection like that. This isn't gonna work. Am I supposed to get over it and hope it doesn't happen again? What do you take me for?"

He choked, taking a deep breath. He dropped the Kansai-ben.

He looked up at her slowly, his face changing, his voice low and serious."I cared a lot for her. I haven't spoken with her in almost 20 years. There is nothing there. Sometimes I'm plagued with nightmares from the events of those years. Between my captivity and the situation in which I met her. I wish her nothing but the best. I have moved on since then, clearly. She only means anything to me because she is a good person. I'm not in love with her, I'm in love with you, and only you."

Y/N swallowed hard, taking his words into consideration... soothed but still feeling an uneasiness.

"You said her name while you were balls deep inside me. How are you going to explain that away? Be fucking honest with me. You have one minute."

"Makoto and I were never physically intimate! She isn't an ex-girlfriend or former love or anything like that! It was an honest mistake, it had nothing to do with the fact that you and I were in the middle of it, okay? I was just waking up, babe..."

"You were conscious. You grabbed me, you kissed me..."

"My mind was still out of it. Come on, I'm telling you the truth. I love you, Y/N. I love you like crazy. Makoto has absolutely nothing to do with my life now. I was just having a fucked-up dream."

Y/N set her bag down and draped her arms around him lazily as he hugged her hips.

"Look, I don't know how much I ever told you about it but here's the brakes: I was told to kill her and if I did, I'd be let back into the family, which was all I wanted at the time. You know all about my Grand days and that tiny apartment and the fact that all I did was run a cabaret club and get followed everywhere I went and my direct boss at the time would just slap me around like a fucking puppy and throw wrenches in everything I did, right?"

She nodded.

"I was told that I'd be in good standing and that I'd get my life back if I did my first hit. I was supposed to take out some ruthless scumbag that trafficked women. It was a no-brainer. I hunt my target down only to find that this ruthless scumbag was a blind woman who had no idea why in the fuck anyone would be after her. You can only imagine my confusion and why I did not kill her. But I was then of course risking worse things than death by keeping her alive and hidden away, all the while lying to my boss. Once he wised up, he tried to kill me, her and the guy she worked for at the time who was a solid guy. I watched him die. I got roughed up time and again, had to find her, make sure they didn't kill her. She was totally blameless and a survivor of the trafficking itself. This woman went through so much and still never batted an eye at her poor hand of cards. Yes, I wound up caring for her very deeply and after all was said and done, I could've told her how I felt, maybe she felt the same, who knows. Instead, I wanted her to be happy and to have nothing to do with me... because at the time, I only created more and more enemies as I climbed the ladder and I knew I couldn't keep her safe forever. I knew that at that time in my life, I had to focus on where I was going, I couldn't drag an innocent person into my mess of a life just because I had feelings for her. I did what I thought was the right thing then and I stand by it now... and where I'm at now, finally, is a place in which I can finally be with the woman I love -- you -- and I don't have to keep you away. I'm not climbing anymore... I'm no longer a real target and neither is anyone close to me."

Y/N nodded again, feeling relieved... but sad. So sad. Sad for being angry at him and sad for his loss... she had no idea the extent of what Makoto was to him and had only assumed the usual out of fear of bringing up such a heavy conversation... but she was glad to finally have it all out in the open.

"Alright... I know I shouldn't ask this but I need to..."

"Anything, babe. What do you want to know?"

"Do you wish you had been with her anyway? I know comparing myself to her is nonsensical but---"

"---Could I love you like I did her?"

"Yes."

"...No. Because the way I felt for her is different. You have to understand, I had to fight dozens and I mean dozens of men to protect her. She kept getting nabbed, I'd have to fight my way through buildings full of armed men to get her out alive. She got shot and almost died. I thought she had at first. It looked grim. So I guess in a way, the way I felt for her then is that I just wanted to protect the only truly good person I ever knew in my life... at that point. How do I feel about her now? I just hope she's happy... and I believe she is."

"You said you haven't spoken to her in 20 years?"

"That's a half truth. When we went through all that shit, she was blind. She never knew what I looked like, she only knew my voice. Years later I ended up in Sotenbori tying up some loose ends that led me to her shop and she didn't realize it was me, telling a perfect stranger how she was happily married with a kid. I was glad to hear it, you know? That was it. I just hope her life now is great because the first half wasn't, you know what I mean? That's it."

Y/N closed her eyes tightly and breathed in slowly, trying to make sense of her emotional state.

"Goro-kun..."

He looked up for the first time in what felt like forever.

"Y/N-chan?"

She sighed once again and carded her fingers through his hair, tugging at the ends, trying to stifle a laugh. Though she was still mildly hurt, the burn of her fury had subsided... she was grateful to have gotten a full discourse out of him and now felt almost foolish for being so (understandably) upset. She all but worshiped this man... he has always been good to her, holding her up on a pedestal, treating her with the respect and care that one only does when they truly and deeply... love and care for another.

She realized it's not a competition, Makoto wasn't "some other woman" or even a threat to her... she was a member of his past, a traumatic and murky one at that. She realized in that moment that it's okay that Majima loved another woman (and more, of course) before her... look at him.

But in this moment for a time before and likely to come, Majima Goro is hers and only hers. He did the right and likely painful thing by scratching at the scab to let her in, to tell her what happened and how it applies to his life now... to give her a perspective on her importance to him now, in comparison to what he's endured. It's a scab because the events of his past never truly heal or leave his psyche... he's just learned to live with and in spite of them, in many thanks to her.

Her unconditional love keeps him grounded, her presence adds to his purpose and for her, the same.

She was indescribably appreciative that the gave her a part of him in his honesty... and she would never take it for granted again. Walking out the door in anger would be, in her eyes, taking it for granted.

He nuzzled his face against her stomach, cradling her hips, giving her all the time she needed to cycle through her thoughts and feelings. God, what a man.

She gripped his chin and pulled him up to his feet, slipping an arm around him, re-tucking the blanket around his hips.

"Let's go to sleep... and bring back the Kansai-ben. I miss it already."

He laughed his usual insane, multi-octave laugh and grabbed her face, kissing her lips, nose, cheek and forehead before ripping the blanket off of him, wrapping it around her and scooping her up, carrying her back to the bedroom.

#majima goro #majima goro x reader #goro majima x reader #majima goro smut #goro majima smut #majima goro angst #goro majima angst #yakuza #yakuza 0 #yakuza kiwami #yakuza kiwami 2

170 notes · View notes

wornoutmouse · 3 years

Text

Valentine's Day with Zora

I'm getting ready to watch black clover either when I finish Mob Psycho or when I finish that time when i got reincarnated as a slime. But based on what I've learned this nigga is an asshole for the most part. And that's how I wrote him. Low key kinda toxic

Idk how popular black clover is amongst the fanfic community but here goes

This would be your first Valentine in 6 years so why were you so damn nervous!? Well if anyone were to ask, it would be because of who your Valentine was. Your hands swayed as you placed each chocolate neatly in their heart shaped tray.

You weren't romantically driven, but you and Zora had been dating for 6 months and had yet to do anything nice besides roasting the dog shit out of each other. Zora was sweet for you, but would not hesitate to state his feelings which is something you thanked yet despised him for.

The man in question was currently in your room playing video games. Taking a deep breath, you summoned up all the courage you could find and shuffled your way to your target.

He was dressed casually, with no shirt and a pair of black sweats hanging low on his waist. His creepily sharp teeth on full display as he cursed at npc's. "Zozo..?"

Zora doesn't pause the game but he glances over at you briefly. "Yeah?" You roll your eyes and stand in front of the TV much to his annoyance, "Please pay attention to me." With an over the top groan, he paused the game and looked at you with an annoyed face.

"Happy Valentine's day!" You yell out and hold your chocolates in front of you with a bright smile. Zora looks down at them then looks back up at you with a concerned look on his face. "Oh for me? You shouldn't have." You pressed your lips together in a tight smile.

The tone that Zora spoke with really served to make you think that you really shouldn't have. Red eyebrows raised in acknowledgment as he plucked a square toffee from it's selected area. He observed it before popping it in his mouth.

"Real good, extravagantly stuck in my teeth now." Strike one you thought as your heart sank from the verdict. You should have thought this through. I mean, a sticky substance with shark like teeth is not the best combo.

You push your braids to the other side of your head as a nervous habit. "Well try the other ones." Zora's eyebrow twitched, you could see he really didn't want to. "Is there a reason for all this?" You huffed, "Yeah it's Valentine's day."

Zora popped a fudge centered chocolate in his mouth, "You celebrate that? I didn't take you for a hopeless schmuck." Strike two, you could feel your mood dipping to the less than happy stage. Zora sighed a little more, "I mean, what's next a card declaring your love for me?"

Strike three was immediate and you were glad you left your handwritten card on the kitchen counter. Your lower lip trembled as you wring your hands nervously. Zora seemed to catch on to the incoming flood and quickly raised his hands in submission.

"Hey, I didn't mean it like that babe, if you wrote me a card I would love to read it." You shook your head turning away as you could feel incoming tears forming. This would be the last time you'd try to do something nice for the bastard. Zora stood up and his normally comforting height only made you feel more pathetic.

"Don't be like that, come on, let me see it." Zora places his hands on your shoulders and herds you towards the living room. The sparkly envelope could be seen from a mile away the way it shined in the steel counter. Zora delicately picked up the envelope, wary of the glitter that fell when he opened it.

"Well would you look at that, I didn't know you could write in cursive." Zora tried to sound convincing but that is a hard feat when your permanent resting face is a cocky smile. Zora tossed the envelope when he realized his half-assed attempts were not helping in the slightest.

You sniffed harshly as you tried to wipe away your fallen tears. Zora tried to comfort you but you turned away with a huff, "What did I hurt your little feelings?" You ignored his attempt to playful banter and walked away. You could hear Zora following you into the living room and stood over you hauntingly as you plopped on the couch.

"How should I make it up to my baby huh? Should I go eat the rest of your candy?" You cross your arms and ignore him. Zora sat down next to you with a playful look on his face. "You want me to write you a letter back? What type of glitter should I use?"

The couch dips as Zora leans closer to you. The hate rates in your neck as you feel the tip of his nose running against your cheek. "Should I fuck you nice and silly so you forget about this stupid holiday?" You have to stop yourself from crossing your legs at such a bold sentence.

But that was Zora for you, can never be serious when it doesn't pertain to him. "Come on Y/n, you know I'm sorry. I didn't know it meant that much to you." You watched from the corner of your eyes as Zora takes a red braid and curls it in-between his fingertips. You had done it just for him yet he never commented on it.

You shake your head defiantly, "You ain't sorry, you just want me to stop being mad at you." An amused chuckle escapes Ideale's lips and you find yourself being pulled closer to him. "This must really be important to you huh?" You raise your head and look Zora in the eyes. He looks back before shaking his head.

You watch him stand up and head back to the room. For a while you felt your heart break from the thought he really didn't care about your feelings. The sound of his footsteps returning made you look again curious as the color black catches your eyes.

Zora places the box down next to you before taking a seat on the floor before you. You watch as he opens the box of candy with one hand, and places the other in your knee.

"Open your legs."

Out of habit, you do, and Zora takes the initiative to pull your pants down. You allow him to do so but remain quiet. It wasn't until you were bare from the waist down that Zora began to speak again. "You know I love you?" You nodded with a graceful eye roll, "Yeah I love me too."

Zora but down on your left thigh making you jump. "Don't be a little shit I'm trying here." A small kiss was pressed against your pussy lips as Zora pinched a small piece of chocolate from the box. They had begun to melt and he uses this to his advantage by rubbing it up and down your slit.

"Some chocolate on my chocolate." You exhale slowly as you feel the sick substance coating your sensitive skin. "That's corny as hell." Zora ignores you as he rubbed the remaining chocolate against your skin.

Once it completely dissolved, he covered your clit with his lips, licking the candy off lightly. It was a strange feeling as the melted chocolate dripped in-between your folds only to have his warm muscles following afterwards. "Do you forgive me?" "N-No."

Zora takes the time to clean your nethers fully of the chocolate in record time as you began to leak your own special nectar. Zora was a man of many annoying words and unsurprisingly he could put them all to good use when eating you out.

You could feel the threat of teeth as Zora left a wet kiss against you. Your feet flexed with electric pressure when Zora's tongue thrusts inside of you, stopping every so often to caress your clit one again. "You always feel so good against my face."

You pressed your lips tightly together to keep from making any sounds. Zora sticks two of his long fingers inside his mouth and covers them in his own saliva. A hitched moan leaves you as they are shoved inside without a care in the world.

"Oh so you can make noise?" You glared at your boyfriend as his bony fingers pumped inside of you. During each retreat of his hand, you could feel his knuckles bump ever so slightly against the top of your cavern. "You're a real dick you know that?" Zora laughs darkly, "Only for you."

A wide grin stretched across his face as you rolled your hips against his palm desperately. "Don't worry I'm going to start, just be patient." The feeling of his fingers spreading apart in a scissoring motion felt illegal as you feel yourself slowly stretching for him. "Faster!"

At that he pulls his digits out and allows his pants to drop. "If you're ready enough to request a speed adjustment, you're ready enough to take the rest."

Of course like everywhere else on him, his dick was long with an am dark red mushroom tip and at this point in time, extremely hard. "Happy Valentine's." He muttered, and as you pondered your retort, Zora focused on pressing the tip of his cock inside.

Contrary to popular belief, two fingers is not enough stretching for the average penis. So Zora got the glorious opportunity to watch your face contort from the full stretch of his cock. "If...this is your way of apologizing, you're doing a shit job at it Zora!"

Zora licked his lips as he looked where you two were connected. "You're as sharp as always huh?" Zora slips his hand in-between your many braids and cups the back of your head bringing you up for a kiss.

As he nudged his hips deeper, his tongue traced your mouth soothingly. To your shame you moaned into the kiss, encouraging Zora to try harder. Your lower bodies became one as you ravaged each other's mouths. "You're an ass you know that?" You mumbled when you separated.

Zora nodded as he focused on fucking you just right. Your hips were raised off of the couch forcing you to hold yourself up by your elbows. "I feel like you've forgiven me from how much your pussy is shaking." You grit your teeth still holding on to your bitterness, "I'm only going to cum because you haven't fucked me in ages."

Zora sighed and folded your body against the couch. "Can never take a compliment can you?" The couch creaked with each pump. Zora's legs were spread in a low crouch as he leaned over your limp body.

The feeling of being full and the heavy stimulation was welcomed as a hot orgasm goes through your body. Zora smirked as he fucked you though your high before pulling out and tucking himself back in.

You furrowed your eyebrows when you realised he wasn't getting himself off. "What about you?" Zora shrugged at your question, "That was my apology. Happy Valentine's day."

While you never got a genuine apology, you never did say anything when you found a peice of your letter in his wallet.

#zora ideale #black clover #black clover x reader #zora ideale x reader #blackreader #black y/n #zora x reader #zora x black reader #black clover x black reader #anime x black!reader #black clover smut #zora ideale smut

231 notes · View notes

alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer · 3 years

Note

what about....... 💻 for thomastair, with the plot "there's only one bed"? thank u 🥺

i know we're all going off about ariadne & alastair right now but I wanted to get this posted!! thomastair fluff with a little angst. i hope you like this, it was a lot of fun to write! pls check the end for disclaimers, i also cross-posted to AO3. only content warnings are discussion of grief and brief mention of racism.

prompt: “there’s only one bed”

“You’re in luck!” the innkeeper declared. “There are four rooms left.”

“Thank you, sir,” James responded without question. Four rooms, eight people. “We’ll take them.” James paid the gentlemen and turned to his friends.

Lucie pouted. “I suppose that means Daisy and I can’t share a room.”

It was a trying journey, dragging a group of eight along into rural England, but they needed to find the portal that continued to allow Belial a connection to this realm, and their only leads were here. It was the sole way to stop Belial for good. It began as just the Merry Thieves, of course, but then Lucie and Cordelia caught wind of it, and they couldn’t refuse. From there, it was Alastair, who refused to allow his sister to go without him, despite the animosity that still sat between him and the other boys, and Jesse, who insisted that this was the only way to save Grace and free her from Belial’s - and their mother’s - control. As such, the eight of them departed. It might not be ideal to travel with so many people, but it did allow them to split into smaller groups relatively easily - unless, of course, those groups were sharing a room with each other.

Without Alastair and Jesse, it would be simple: Lucie with Cordelia, James with Matthew, and Thomas with Christopher. However, no one really knew Jesse all that well apart from Lucie, and they certainly didn’t trust Alastair enough to leave Jesse with him for a night. Most logically, the girls would stay with their brothers, but Lucie had been excited about the idea of a ‘sleepover’ with Cordelia all day. The weather was beginning to become treacherous, as it sometimes did during English winters, and they knew they would need to retreat to an inn that evening.

“Nonsense, Lucie,” Thomas said a little more quickly than seemed logical. “I can stay with Alastair, and I’m sure one of you doesn't mind staying with Jesse.” He eyed his friends. “You two should enjoy yourselves; it’s been a difficult couple of days.”

Lucie’s eyes lit up eagerly. “Oh, Thomas, are you sure?”

Matthew’s eyes had darkened and he repeated, “Yeah, Tom, are you sure?”

Alastair rolled his eyes and ignored the fact that they were solely debating who would have the displeasure of spending the night in the same room as him.

“I said so, didn’t I?” was Thomas’ reply.

“I’ll stay with Jesse,” James offered before the discussion could continue into more hurtful territory.

The innkeeper led them to their rooms, and they settled for the night.

Alastair gritted his teeth when he saw that instead of two single beds, there was one double. He sighed. “I can go ask for extra blankets; I’ve slept in worse places.”

Thomas paused for a second in confusion. “Don’t be daft, Carstairs, the bed is plenty big enough for the both of us.” He turned his head sideways. “Though it might be a bit short…”

“You don’t have to-”

“I said, don’t be silly. We’re here to rest, that’s all.”

Alastair grunted but didn’t push it further. They continued in relative silence as they took turns changing behind the folding screen and freshening up at the wash bin. Finally comfortable, Alastair settled into the armchair beside the bed with the book he’d brought along and tried to consume himself enough in the reading that he could ignore that just a few feet away from him was the very tall, very muscular, very attractive man who hated him.

It wasn’t working.

“What are you reading?”

Alastair bit his lip. He hated when people interrupted him while he was reading, but he supposed he wasn’t really reading at all, just pretending to. The cover of the book was plain, a deep red leather with no writing. Whenever he was around folks who were not his family, he was careful to position himself in a way that no one would be able to see the writing inside - writing that did not use the Roman alphabet. He always felt more comfortable with Thomas, though, for some odd reason. He sighed. “Divan-e Shams.” He tilted the book towards Thomas so he could see a bit of the Farsi poetry written inside.

“Would you read some to me? I’ve forgotten my reading material.”

Alastair flashed him an incredulous look. “What an important thing to forget.”

“Yes,” Thomas sighed. “I have realized. So…?”

Alastair rolled his eyes and did his best to translate. “My desert is without end, my soul, my heart must tear. The world here-”

“No, no,” Thomas interrupted. “In Persian.”

Alastair pushed away some of his shock. After all, Cordelia had said that Thomas had been studying the language with Lucie. “Right,” he amended before beginning again. Around the same spot, though, he cut himself off.

“What’s the matter?”

“It’s just… it’s meant to be sung. It feels strange saying it.”

“Sing it, then.”

Alastair stared at him for a moment. Was this some sort of trick? Was he going to run off to his schoolboy friends the moment he was finished to laugh about what he had done? Was he doing it to get revenge? He pondered all of the possibilities, but his mind rested on just one thought: that perhaps it would be worth it, to play into some cruel trick, if it meant he could say that he’d sung to Thomas Lightwood, even just once.

“I mean… You don’t have to, but you can. If you wanted,” Thomas said quickly, realizing that he might have made Alastair uncomfortable.

Alastair cleared his throat and began to sing. He made sure to keep his voice soft and low as he made his way through the ghazal, careful to not allow anyone to hear through the walls. Cordelia would never let him live it down if she heard. He finally looked up at Thomas, who was staring at him intensely.

“That was beautiful.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Did you understand any of it?”

Thomas grinned. “Not a word.”

Alastair chuckled. “That’s alright. Mevlevi - I believe you folks call him Rumi - was a genius. He crafted phrases in a way… Well, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anything else quite like it. He gives new meanings to old words and uses quite a bit of wordplay, speaking of love and loss and longing… I used to think it was a tragedy, truly, that English speakers could not understand, but now… it’s nice. Like a secret only I, and, well, Persia, have access too.” He bit back a smile as he rambled. While the books he had were from his mother, she never had much of an interest in it all, nor Cordelia, so he’d never had anyone to muse about the poet with before.

“I can see why you enjoy it so much. I’m not sure I’ve ever heard something so beautiful before. I didn’t even know you could sing.”

Alastair felt his brain sputter a bit. He’d become so entranced with the language before him that he’d forgotten that he had just sung it to Thomas. He felt his face flush, and he was grateful that it is difficult to see against his dark complexion. “Oh… It was nothing. I mean, I don’t, really. It’s just something my mum taught me.”

“It’s incredible,” Thomas said in awe, his face glowing a faint pink. “I, uh, I write songs, you know. I mean, I’ve never told anyone, least of all you, so, you wouldn’t know, but now you do. Just in my head, I mean. Well, sometimes I write them down. I’m not very musically inclined.” His face was growing redder by the second.

Alastair was careful not to grin too widely. “Sing one, then.”

“What?” Thomas squeaked.

“Well, you don’t have to, but you can, if you want to.”

Thomas threw him a quick glare for repeating his words and then took a deep breath. He was silent for a bit, but then he began to sing, careful not to look towards Alastair. “I woke up thinking you were still here, my hands shaking with regret. I've held this dream for such a long, long time, and now I want to wake up to the rhythm of a wild heart that beats, that beats like a drum.

“Your light, it follows me in darkness. I'm trying hard, but I can't win, and I've played the victim for a long, long time, and I wanna grow up from the rhythm of a younger heart, it leads, just like a river runs.”

Alastair stood from the armchair and moved to where Thomas was sitting on the edge of the bed, placing a gentle hand on his knee. “That’s beautiful, Thomas,” he said softly. “I didn’t… I know I didn’t know her, but I’m sure she’d love it.”

Thomas turned away from him sharply, his lip trembling and tears beginning to fall down his cheeks.

Alastair took the other boy’s hand, cupping it firmly between his own, as if just to say, I’m here with you. “It’s alright.”

“No, it’s not,” Thomas said, trying futilely to wipe away his tears. “We were having a moment, and then I ruined it.”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” he replied gently. “You’re allowed to have feelings, Thomas. You shouldn’t just push them away.”

Thomas scoffed. “What do you suggest I do then? Mask my pain with cruel, horrible lies about those who have done nothing to deserve them like you do?”

Alastair dropped his hand and stood up, backing away from Thomas. He was silent for a moment. “You’re right. You are. But I’m trying, Thomas, I really am. I don’t want to…” I don’t want to be my father, he wanted to say, but he couldn’t. “I don’t want to be the kind of person who takes my hurt out on others anymore, and I’m trying. I swear it.”

“I know,” Thomas said softly. He was silent for a moment. “I understand why you did it.”

Alastair’s jaw tightened reflexively.

“Matthew said some awful things about… about the way you look, and your father, and… the incident. You were in a bad way already.”

Alastair was speechless. He’d forgotten that Thomas was present for that. He hadn’t shared any of it with Thomas, not his insecurities about his heritage, nor his father, and certainly not the horrible, world-altering guilt over Clive’s death that still sat in the depths of his soul years later.

“That doesn’t make what you said okay.”

“It wasn’t.”

“You weren’t trying to hurt me.”

“I was not.”

“You were trying to hurt Matthew.”

He sighed. “I was.”

“And you did.”

“I did.”

“And perhaps he deserved some of it.”

“Not what I did, though.”

“No, not what you did.”

“I took it too far.”

“You did.”

“I know. I’ve known since the moment I said it. I’ve regretted it since the moment I said it.”

“I know.”

“I don’t think that it’s something that can be fixed, though.”

“With Matthew? Maybe not.”

“What about with you?”

“There’s nothing to fix, Alastair.”

“I thought you hated me.”

“I wanted to hate you because you hurt Matthew. But… I think the world is just a little more complicated than I’d like it to be.”

Alastair sat back down on the bed, though farther from Thomas this time.

“Is that… Is that why you dyed your hair? Because of the things he said?”

Alastair attempted to hide the way he physically flinched.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve-”

“Do you think he’s the only one?” he interrupted. “Do you think I haven’t been laughed at or ridiculed or worse, suspected to be dangerous or a thief, my entire life just because of how dark my hair and eyes and skin are?”

“I’m sorry,” was all Thomas could find to say. “Matthew still shouldn’t’ve said those things. I’m sorry I never stopped him.”

He’d left Alastair speechless yet again. The thought had never crossed his mind before, or perhaps it had, that Thomas could have ever spoken to Matthew about the kinds of comments he made on Alastair’s appearance. Though, the longer he pondered the idea, the more he wondered if he had held some sort of small resentment because of it, and never realized. “That wasn’t your responsibility.”

“Perhaps not, but I could have tried.”

He stared at him for a moment. Never in his life had felt so seen, so understood. In fact, he had many carefully built walls to protect against just that. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“How do you… just know everything?”

Thomas half-rolled his eyes. “I don’t know everything. I just watch, and I observe, and I try, somehow, to understand. You’re not as complicated as you wish you were, you know.”

He had a startling thought as he wondered whether anyone had ever watched him as closely as Thomas had. “Cordelia would disagree with you.”

“Hm, I just might have to share with her the secret to you, then.”

Alastair glared at him, but he was grinning now. “Don’t you dare.”

“For the record, you know… I prefer dark features. Personally, I mean.”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, yes, I’m sure there were many striking dark-haired women back in Madrid.”

“Hm,” Thomas pondered in an exaggerated way. “I don’t know… Though, there was certainly an attractive dark-haired someone that I met when I visited Paris.”

“Well, I would hope so,” Alastair deadpanned. “Because according to you, we just shared a moment.”

Thomas cringed. “I had hoped you’d forgotten I’d said that.”

“Me? Never.”

“Does this… Does this mean we’re okay now?” Thomas was slow and cautious as he spoke.

“Yes, I think it does.”

He breathed a sigh of relief.

“I could help you, you know, with your songs, if you wanted, once we return to London. With that one, or others. I can play the piano.”

Thomas narrowed his eyes. “You can play the piano?”

Alastair shrugged. “Well, I used to, but I haven’t in a while.”

“Why did you stop?”

He bit his cheek as he thought. This was where he should say he grew bored of it, that it simply no longer interested him, or perhaps suggest that they should go to sleep, as they were both dreadfully tired, or even whip out a line cutting and cruel. He had meant what he’d said to Thomas, though, that he no longer wanted to be so heartless and closed off. “I don’t know… I used to play a lot with my mother when I was young. Then, life got too busy… I’d still play, but usually when my parents were fighting or when something was happening that I didn’t want Cordelia to overhear. I could just… start playing and everything else would just melt away. After a while, though, it was just hard to play without thinking about all of the bad memories.”

There was more he wished to say, about how when he returned from the Academy he believed himself to be too corrupted and too broken to deserve to create anything beautiful, but this was a start.

“I wouldn’t wish to remind you of any bad memories.”

“Perhaps we could create some good memories, then.”

“I… I’d like that.”

“We should… we should probably sleep. It’s gotten late, and we’re sure to be running around all day tomorrow.”

Thomas nodded, and they both climbed into opposite sides of a bed that once seemed far too small, but now, too wide.

The exhaustion of the day finally creeping up on him, Alastair fell asleep almost instantly.

When he woke, he found himself face first into Thomas’ night shirt.

His head rested against Thomas’ chest, Thomas’ arm around his torso, their legs intertwined. He stared for a moment into the white of Thomas’ shirt, not daring to move. Should he? They’d flirted a bit the night before, but they were hardly even friends at this point. Was this too much, too far? The other boy seemed to be sleeping soundly, though, and from the sound of Thomas’ song and the circles he’d noticed under his eyes the past few months, he suspected that sound sleep might not be coming so easily to him nowadays. Therefore, the best thing would be not to move and risk startling Thomas from his rest. Besides, the room was quite chilly, and they could use each other’s warmth.

Content with his decision to not move away from Thomas’ embrace, he allowed himself to fall back into a light, peaceful slumber, however long it would last.

It lasted, he would learn, until his little sister began banging on their door.

“Booooys,” she called. “Are you decent?”

Alastair shot out of Thomas’ arms and fell onto the floor. He quickly straightened himself and hurried over to open it. “What do you want, Cordelia?”

She grinned. “I just came to tell you that Lucie and I are eating breakfast downstairs. You should get ready.”

“You could have said that through the door.”

“I know,” she smirked.

She started down the hall, and he closed the door, silently groaning.

“What’s wrong?” Thomas asked.

“She’s up to something,” he answered. “We never should have left her and Lucie alone together. They probably spent all night scheming.”

“Perhaps so,” he laughed. “Only one way to find out, though.”

Alastair sighed. “You’re right. Okay, I’ll get ready quickly and go down, and then in five, maybe ten minutes, you can follow.”

Thomas gave him an odd look, but didn’t fight it. “Alright.”

A few minutes later, he joined Lucie and Cordelia downstairs. Unsurprisingly, Lucie had her notebook and was scribbling away while Cordelia nursed a cup of tea. A cup of black coffee sat in front of the seat he was meant to sit in. He loathed English tea, compared to Persian tea it was nothing more than hot water. None of the other boys had come down yet.

“Alastair!” Lucie exclaimed when she noticed him. “Did you enjoy your night with Thomas?”

Cordelia giggled.

“I… We slept, if that’s what you are asking. That is what we were meant to do here, at an inn, wasn’t it?”

Cordelia raised an eyebrow. “Well, it was most peculiar, when I went to request an extra blanket last night, well, it certainly was not sleeping I heard from the hallway…”

“Cordelia, you didn’t-”

“I did.”

“You heard Alastair singing-”

“He was. In Persian.”

“In Persian,” Lucie said the words succinctly with no expression on her face, as if she was laying out a fact during a murder trial.

Once again, Alastair was grateful that no one could see him blush. “Did you two actually get any rest last night or did you just spend it gossiping about me?”

“Not just you,” Lucie replied. “You and Thomas.”

“Why do you keep saying his name like that?”

“You’re welcome, you know,” Cordelia declared smugly.

Alastair let out an exasperated sigh. “What?”

“It was all part of the plan, Alastair,” Lucie answered.

“It was quite brilliant, actually,” Cordelia supplied. “It was all Lucie’s idea. She knew that if we were to stay at an inn, Thomas would jump at the chance to spend a night with you.”

“And he did, as expected, without hesitation,” Lucie confirmed.

“The only issue, of course, being me, because we’d be far too obvious a pair for him to try to argue against.” Lucie nodded along to Cordelia’s explanation. “So, Lucie spent all day musing about how much she’d love to spend the night with me, just in case the opportunity arose.”

“And it did!” Lucie squealed.

“She’s been planning this since the engagement party,” Cordelia finished.

“The engagement party?” he responded incredulously. “That was ages ago!”

“And it has finally come to fruition, has it not?” Lucie babbled excitedly.

He didn’t give her the dignity of replying. “I only have one question, though - how did you know there would only be one bed?”

Lucie’s eyes widened. “There was only one bed!” she squealed as she began furiously scribbling into her notebook once again.

DISCLAIMERS: I don’t speak Farsi and the translation that Alastair makes is actually from this document. It’s the poem on page 9 and 10 if you want to check it out! Also, the song that Thomas sings isn’t mine, it’s adapted from “Like A River Runs” by the Bleachers. I tried to write something, but I’ve never experienced what Thomas has, and it’s a very beautiful song written about the loss of Jack Antonoff’s sister. You should listen to it! Though, I imagine Thomas’ version to be a bit less upbeat.

#jaimie's appreciation posts #dianasarrow #ask #thomas lightwood #alastair carstairs #lucie herondale #cordelia carstairs #thomastair #fanfiction #fanfic

155 notes · View notes

caesthetix · 3 years

Text

GREAT DESCENDANT — Pt. 2 Extra Bread

↪Attack on Titan series

↪content; warrior!reader, aged-up character, graphic description of violence, slow burn, season 4 spoiler

"T-Thank you, sir!"

He stuttered out and bowed a little to the soldier who gave him five loaves of bread. Though the older man did not acknowledge his gratitude at all, instead he just sneered at him, making him flinch since he was reminded of the fact that this island filled with demons.

His long feet stride out from the line, wanting to get back to where his friends waited. Today it was his duty to get the food for his companions, and it needed all of his courage to utter how many people in his family were left when the soldier asked him.

Four, it was the right answer that he was supposed to say. But he couldn't help but stutter five instead. It had only been a few weeks after they breached the outer wall, Maria, and yet he still couldn't believe that it was only the four of them now.

Each of them was grieving. Annie would now scowl a lot and buried her face in her hands, not wanting anyone to see the vulnerable look on her face. Reiner was different, he tried to act tough despite the nightmares that often accompanied him in his sleep. While him? He hid his sadness and pain deep inside his heart because he knew that someone suffered more.

You, you didn't talk at all for days as if you were just their shadows. Annie made sure that you were not hurt when he and Reiner crushed the gate. And even though you were not uttering any words, you could do your task ideally without a hitch, and that was to sneak inside with battered clothes, acting like a child who lost everything.

But maybe you were indeed lost everything, that was what he thought when he saw you just staring into spaces without any expression on your face. The bubbly and warm person that he met back then in Marley was nowhere to be found at this point and he hoped that someday he could meet her again.

When his pale green eyes fell to the familiar strands of your hair, he started to run, wanting to give you the bread for today since the sun was up for hours yet no one ate anything just yet. The shelter where all of them were hiding was an abandoned barn just outside the main city, no one knew who the owner of it was, but when Reiner found it empty, they decided to use it as a temporary house.

They just needed to survive for a few years and they could enroll in the military after that. But now they had to make a plan about what they should do in the meantime. Now they were just four orphans who lost everything from wall Maria. A few days ago a soldier gave them a form to fill out, consisting of some questions about names, birth, and the residence they used to live in before.

And that was the first time he heard your voice after weeks wallowing yourself in silence. When Marcel was alive, he told you that you needed to change your last name. Just for a disguise, it was the safest option because who would have expected if someone knew the weight of your name.

"No." You whispered out, one hand scribbling down the paper to write your name. "I am not going to lose my identity. No." There was a lingering pain in your voice that everyone could notice. "I will do anything, Reiner, but not this. This is my last name and I will lose it if someone takes it away from me."

The blonde frowned when he heard your rebellion, you seemed fine when Marcel asked you to do that back then, but now you changed your mind and he wished he knew the words that could sway you. You continued to write down your information without stopping while the boys stared at you with wonder.

Annie knew that you couldn't be forced to do something that you wouldn't do, so she just shrugged it off and focused on her paper, not wanting to spend her time filling forms if she could do it fast. She really thought Reiner would drop it after hearing your statement, but sometimes he just didn't know when to stop.

"Hey, but Marcel would tell you to do the same."

Bertolt could imagine his friend getting beaten up again at this point. But this time not from Annie, instead, he would get it from you who was now gripping so tight on the pencil that he was afraid you would stab the armoured titan inheritor on the neck with it.

"That's the thing, Braun." You gritted your teeth, avoiding yourself for kicking him on the face. And when the poor boy heard you called him by his last name, he knew that he was done for good. "Marcel is not here anymore, and you are not Marcel."

Bertolt made a note on his head that he would never want to get on your bad side. He felt a shiver down his spine at that time when you completely disregarded Reiner, and those words were not even for him. He couldn't imagine what his friend felt, must be hell for sure.

"Hey, I-I got the food for us today." Stopping on his track right in front of you. You were currently cleaning up the dust on the window, he recalled you said that you despised dirty windowpane last night, and he raised his eyebrow since he wondered how you got some clothes to clean it up with.

"Thank you, Bertolt." You gave him a soft smile, and from just that gesture he could feel his cheek burning from — goodness, he didn't even know what he was feeling right now. "Oh? You got five? How?" He was still in a trance when you threw the question, making him baffled for a second there.

"I said that there were five members in my family." He averted his eyes, ashamed to confess that to you. That and the fact he would see the sadness inside your eyes if he did so."I didn't mean to, really, b-but I only realised it after the soldier gave the portion to me."

"Oh, Bertolt." You let out a long sigh and grabbed two pieces of bread from his hand. "You know you could correct yourself after that, right?" He knew that you were scolding him, but with how soft your voice was, he just accepted it, not even once trying to correct himself. "I will give it back to the soldier, okay? You go inside, Reiner and Annie are waiting for you."

"But shouldn't you eat first?" He was concerned for sure, and despite knowing the fact that you could handle this harsh world by yourself, he was not sure if it was the right choice to let you go alone. "I can drop this off to them and I can accompany you, right?"

You chuckled at this, and his pupils widened at that since it was the first time you expressed some kind of joyful gesture since Marcel's incident. Your eyes closed as you chuckled at him, he didn't know what he did to make you like this but his brain short-circuited to even think about it. He just stood there with mouth agape, enjoying the pure, melodious giggle that slipped from your mouth.

"Bertolt," And how much he loved his name rolled down your tongue was uncanny. "It's okay, I will eat mine on the way. And I can handle myself, I am going to be back before you know it! You don't have to be concerned about me." You gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder, and his body went rigid at that. "See you later, tell the others where I am going, okay?"

He was too frozen in the spot even when you already strolled down the street with the loaves of bread in your hand. There was no time for him to answer you, and he felt like all the words were stuck in his throat. You just touched him, that was the only thing that he could process right now.

Yes, it was nothing special since you always held Pieck's hand back then or gave a pat to the other warrior candidates (especially Porco, for as long as he remembered even though the boy seemed to dislike your presence and unfazed by it), but to him, feeling your touch like that was everything.

It gave him some kind of boost, maybe it was the warm tingle that he felt whenever you were around or the fact that your existence just screamed comfort — he didn't know exactly what caused him to treasure your touch. What he knew for sure that in the end, he enjoyed your company.

"Oi, Bertolt! Why are you standing there like a statue?!"

"S-Sorry, Reiner—"

〄

The wind caressed your hair as you wandered down the street, turning left and right to the alleyway that would lead you to the plaza. This place had been your home for a few weeks now, and you started to enjoy living here, greeting some people here and there despite how many times Reiner told you not to.

They would ask, of course, where you were from. And you always answered it without hesitation, without a pause, as if the one who talked was an entirely different person with how you always lost all the light in your face when you gave them your answer. They would sympathize, and you took their pity and kept acting it out.

You had a different approach in this mission compared to the other warrior. While they decided to keep a low profile, you were going all out and showed yourself as a victim from the fall of wall Maria. Lots of benefits coming your way with how some adults asked you to move in with them or offering you a job so you could fend for yourself.

Their offers were always so sweet, but you didn't want to leave your friends inside a cold barn with nothing to lay on except the pile of hay. You always ended up cuddling with Annie, not caring that she wanted to kick you on the face at first for not giving her enough space, she ended up liking to sleep in your embrace days after that, so for you, it was all worth it.

Maybe though, their offer about working for them could help you. There were some of them and you sure at least one of the jobs had good earnings. You could buy food for your friends if that was the case, all of you didn't have to rely on free food anymore. And so, you decided that you would go to the adult near the plaza after this, asking if the offer was still up.

"I am sorry! It was already late and there was only one bread left for us!"

Your ears caught the distressed tone that came from the alleyway near you. The plaza was empty now since it seemed like the ration already finished for the day. To know that a lot of people couldn't even have one bread to eat made your stomach churned with guilt and anger for yourself.

"It's alright, Armin. We can share it."

"Yeah, it's not like I eat a lot anyway."

There were three of them, three children that looked like they were the same age as you, and they only got one piece of bread for the whole day. Knowing that the soldier was not there anymore and the commotion already dispersed, you decided to give the bread to them instead.

Your tiny feet waddled toward them, they were currently deep in thought about how to divide the food fairly. And you were thankful that you haven't eaten your fair of bread, so now each of the kids could have one.

"Excuse me," You interrupted their discussion, three pairs of eyes immediately turned to face you. Two of them looked at you with confusion while the other one had her eyes filled with caution. "I am sorry, I heard about your problem before, and I have two extra pieces of bread that you guys could take."

The two boys, one with blonde hair and the other with short dark brown hair — looked at each other without saying anything. It was like they had this kind of bond, talking through their minds before giving each other a nod. Maybe they were debating if it was alright to accept your hospitality or not.

"It's fine, but is this bread really alright for us to take?" The boy with the ocean blue eyes spoke up, taking one step forward to your figure. "What about you then, have you eaten yet today?"

"Yes, it's fine. If not, I am not going to offer it in the first place." You gave him a gentle smile before answering his next question a little bit too quickly to your liking. "Don't worry about me! I already got breakfast before and ate mine. You don't have to think—"

"You are lying." The girl that had been silent the whole time suddenly cut your sentence. "Don't tell me I am wrong because I am sure that I am right." She didn't sugarcoat her words at all, and you couldn't understand anymore if her words mean good or bad. Because surely her onyx orbs looked at you as if you were a threat.

You closed your eyes and exhaled loudly, knowing that you couldn't lie anymore with how sharp the three of them were. But this fact wouldn't stop you from wanting them to take your fair.

"Well, yes, I haven't eaten." Surrendering yourself to honesty, you continued. "But I am going to be fine, an adult in this shop near the plaza offered me a job and food, so I could get it from them after this." You explained truthfully, handing them the bread thereafter.

"Then how come you had extra bread in the first place?" The short-haired boy now squinting his eyes, wanting to understand your hidden motive in case there were any. "You had one for yourself too despite knowing that you could get food from this adult you told us about. So why should we trust you?"

"Eren!"

Ah, so the boy's name is Eren. You thought, couldn't believe that someone would even doubt the others for giving free food. But then again, you couldn't blame them for being extra cautious. No one knew what could happen inside these walls. The worst-case scenario from this was that you poisoned them to get rid of another life to prevent any more hunger.

"You don't have to trust me, of course." You answered him with a soft and calm tone, something that you learned from your house back in Marley. That even when someone raised their voice at you, you needed to handle them with care. "My friend was the one who got the food from me, and he didn't check that he got extra food, so I am here with the first mission to give it back to the garrison soldier."

You gave them the answer that they want, both hands still pushed forward, waiting for them to take it. "Promise I wouldn't disturb you anymore, I just want to make sure you guys get enough food. That's all."

There was a long silence engulfing the four of you. That was until the blonde took the bread out of your hand and gave you a smile of gratitude, which you answered with the same gesture as him. The other two were now looking at you with a softened gaze, finally stripping away their caution towards you.

"I am sorry that I sounded rude before." The brunette started, giving you a cheeky smile as his ears tinted with a pinkish hue. "I just need to be careful around strangers, everything just messed up at this time, you know?" He chuckled bitterly, his eyes darkening as if a terrible memory fleeting through his mind for a second.

"It's fine. I know where that thought is coming from." You kicked the pebbles near your foot before, making it bounce to the wall as you looked down. "Everything is just a nightmare after the breach." And you tried so hard not to break down, not in front of anyone, especially those who were the victim of your action. "All of you — didn't deserve any of it."

Your voice that was so warm and comforting before now turned into a completely different tone. There was sadness, at least that was what they could hear from you. They couldn't see the expression in your eyes since you persisted in looking down at your feet, avoiding their gaze at all cost.

"And you didn't deserve it too."

The blonde, that if you recalled from before was called Armin, telling you words that you thought you wouldn't need to hear. "No one wanted this to happen, no one deserved to live like this." He continued, and you were ready to crumble even more. "But this is our life, for now, so we can't do anything else but move on."

You wanted to get down on your knees, hugging his legs as you begged for forgiveness. Just like what you saw in some of the memories from your ancestors, there were just normal human beings inside these walls. Just like in Marley, just like on the other continent, there were good and bad people, and nothing differentiated them except the fact that they had a titan's blood flowing inside their veins.

Nothing else but that — and the dangerous truth that lies within the walls.

"It's called rumbling, right?"

Just one month from now, you were going to inherit the war hammer titan, and you have been studying a lot, reading the journal that your ancestor wrote. The book was so helpful, preparing you to know the truth that this world had to hide. Sometimes your twelve years old brain could not even understand it.

The past few years you had been training hard privately. You got the best instructor, honing your mental and physical build at the same time. But since you reached the age of ten, your father introduced you to Commander Magath who was in charge of the Warrior Unit, the unit for those titan inheritors.

And you trained with them ever since then. Creating a bond and friendship to those who would fight alongside you in the upcoming battle. The majority of them were easy to talk with like Marcel, Pieck, Zeke, Reiner, and Bertolt. While the rest — not so much.

Annie was fine though, she still talked to you here and there and taught you about some certain techniques of hand-to-hand combat that you deemed remarkably useful. Porco on the other hand, you wanted to grimace at the interaction that you had with him. Yet despite all that, you couldn't stop yourself from smiling for just thinking about him.

But this moment was not the right time to reminisce about the warrior training, not when a few months from now, you would embark on a mission to reclaim the founding titan.

"Yes, when the founding titan decided to unharden the walls and released millions of colossal titan, it was called rumbling." Your father sat across from where you were, filling out papers from the military about you. "If that happened, the whole world would turn into nothing."

You gave a nod of acknowledgement, fingers tracing the ink that seeped on the worn-out paper journal.

"So it was risky to let the founding titan stay in Paradis since no one knew if someday they would activate the rumbling or not." You stated the sentence as a matter of factly, absorbing the information that sometimes made your head pound. "It was risky since they closed themselves inside those walls and no one knew what happened there."

"Yes, my dear." His voice cracked like any other time, having so much burden for throwing you to the frontline of the battle like that. You, his little star, his precious daughter that he never wanted to turn her into a war machine that could only live for thirteen years. "That is why you need to prevent it from happening."

But it was something that needed to be done — and there was nothing that you could do except embracing the cruel truth like an old friend.

"Yes, you are right." Fixing your composure, you were back to the kind girl from before. "Thank you for telling me that, I think I need it." You chuckled softly, fingers tucking the strands of your hair behind the ear. "I-I will go now, then. Hope all of you survive and continue on living!"

Bowing yourself a little before departing (a trait that you couldn't shake off that easily), you waved at them and turned your heels, walking away from the three children that you really hoped would have a beautiful life ahead, for as long as they could have.

"Wait!" But you halted your feet to move forward when you heard Eren's voice calling out for you.

"Yes? What is it?" You were still not that far from them, so you decided to use your normal volume as if they were still right in front of you.

"We haven't got your name!" Yet despite how calm you were, the boy seemed to choose to shout at you anyway. "I am Eren! This is Armin and Mikasa, they are everything that I had left! Now, what's yours?!"

Hearing how excited he was made you giggle, such a complete opposite for real compared to him a few minutes ago when he looked at you with caution. Now he became the child he was supposed to be, with a wide grin on his face as he just wanted to know the name of his probably new friend.

And so you indulged him with it, answering his question with a clear and solid tone.

"It's (Y/n)!" You decided to shout back, equaling his enthusiasm. "(Y/n), (Y/n) Tybur!"

Paradis Citizen(s)

↪@yumaryko @may-machin @cuteissei

↪Back to Great Descendant Masterlist OR Wall Maria

↪Send an ask if you want to be a citizen of Paradis (taglist)!

#jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschtein scenarios #jean kirschtien #jean kirstein #Jean Kirschstein #jean kirschtein fluff #bertholdt hoover #attack on titan bertholdt #bertholdt x reader #bertolt x reader #Bertolt Hoover #porco galliard x reader #attack on titan porco #porco galliard imagine #aot imagines #aot x reader #aot fanfiction #snk x reader #snk imagines

64 notes · View notes

butternuggets-blog · 3 years

Text

Persuasion, By Multiple Means

~Stargirl Fluff/Crack, Shadenite~

Richard stared down his nose across the table, crossing his arms for emphasis.

‘No. Absolutely not’

Charles sighed.

‘I know it’s not ideal but...’ he let his voice trail off, picking at the slice of pie in front of him.

First swipe of the dagger. Clumsy. Familiar.

Richard was beginning to suspect Charles had chosen this exact booth in Ritchie’s Diner at this exact time of day so that the shadows around them would be at their lowest peak and he’d be the most hemmed in.

He was about to put that thought out into the world when footsteps pattered up behind him and Beth slid into the seat next to McNider.

‘Have you asked him yet?’ she asked brightly. Then she noticed Richard glowering fiercely, and her face fell.

‘You asked him and he said no’ she said softly, shoulders slumping.

Second swipe finds purchase. Damn her.

‘I have no doubt that you would make an admirable lab assistant my dear’ Richard tried his best to balance bitterness and gentleness in his tone, ‘But I have no desire to spend the rest of my days in this...charming little town’

‘But it’s conveniant for my work! And for Beth’ his husband protested.

‘I can transport you both wherever you need to go’ Richard pointed out, as Courtney slid into the booth beside him, milkshake in hand.

‘If you can travel anywhere in the world, then why would having a house in Blue Valley be a problem?’ asked Courtney. Richard glared at her.

‘Because there is a significant difference between living elsewhere and-’ Richard failed to suppress a shudder of disgust, ‘-admitting that your home base is in...Blue Valley’

‘Mum said you could help her run the antique section of The American Dream’ Courtney interjected, ‘Or she can pull some strings with the city council to fast-pass an antique dealer license if you want to open a store here’

A gun. The girl brought a damn gun.

Richard sighed heavily, and gently smacked the table with one fist.

‘Damn you all’ he spat through gritted teeth. Beth, Courtney and Charles cheered, high-fiving and hugging each other while Richard rolled his eyes and tried his best not to smile.

‘But!’ he pointed a finger at the grinning trio, ‘I’m opening a tea shop. I will drag some sophistication kicking and screaming into this cesspool’

‘Deal!’

#stargirl #shadownite #richard swift #charles mcnider #beth chapel #courtney whitmore

14 notes · View notes

treksickfic · 3 years

Text

The City on the Edge of Forever

I’m so excited to share this with you, anonymous requester! After you sent in your prompt, I had another anonymous reader get in touch with me to let me know they’d already written a story that matched your wishes exactly.

The author of this story is French, not a native English speaker, and they’ve written a beautifully touching story that expands on the TOS episode, City on the Edge of Forever. I am posting it here on my blog, with their permission, because they do not wish to have an account nor have their identity attached to the story. This writer has already become dear to me and I’m honored that they trusted me with their writing. I hope you enjoy it!

It’s a long story, nearly 3,000 words, so RIP to your dash if you’re on mobile. I didn’t want to post it on AO3 or anywhere else except my blog, which feels safer.

Trigger warning for panic attack and trigger warning for some mild emeto, if you’re sensitive to that. It’s not very graphic.

“James Kirk, I demand an explanation!”

Scotty, Uhura, the teleportation technicians, and the security guards were completely dumbfounded by the doctor's explosion. They watched the captain stagger off, livid, as if he had been punched in the stomach. He disappeared without a word, with long stiff steps, from the room.

“Jim!” yelled McCoy.

“Not now, doctor.” Spock's cold, dry voice stopped him.

Spock squeezed McCoy’s arm firmly and Scott was sure to read in his black eyes a burst of fury. McCoy noticed it too, because despite the storm of his own eyes, he remained silent.

“Everyone, at your posts,” declared the Vulcan. “Scott, you are in charge for now.”

“Yes, sir.” Scotty nodded, refraining from asking any questions.

As soon as they had come through the Time Gate, seconds after they left, it seemed, but many weeks later for them, he had seen that they were not fine at all. The captain was pale, deaf to their questions, obviously struggling with the tears that filled his eyes. The doctor was just as white, his face contracted with a terrible anger. As for Spock, he kept his eyes fixed on Jim, his usual indifference altered by deep and obvious concern.

What the hell had happened?

This is precisely the question McCoy yelled at Spock, pulling himself brutally out of his grip as they entered his office, safe from prying ears:

“Damn it, Spock!”

“If you calm down, doctor, maybe I could explain.”

“Calm down? CALM DOWN? Shit, Spock! How do you want me to calm down?”

“Breathing. Deep, and slowly. Start by sitting down.”

“Don't fuck with me!”

“The Vulcans don't fuck with people. Now, please calm down.”

Jim killed someone without thought. There's no way I can calm down. Shit!”

Spock gritted his teeth and an aura of icy disappointment emanated from him:

“Jim killed someone without thought...do you get along, doctor? You've been aboard this ship for over a year. You even pretend to be the captain's friend. How can you accuse him of this without thinking for two seconds?”

“I saw it ! He prevented me from—"

“--and your poor little mind preferred to give in to this abject emotion rather than try to find a logical explanation. Jim, the most compassionate man we know…would he have acted like this for no reason?”

These words had the effect of a cold shower on McCoy. He shook his head, gradually coming to himself. He hadn't actually thought for a single moment, mired in a nauseating fury that he hadn't even tried to control. Shame replaced anger and he sagged in his seat and closed his eyes for a moment.

The past few weeks had been a total blur. He had woken up in a room with antique furniture, with an adorable woman at his bedside: Edith Keeler. It had taken him some time to realize that she was neither a hallucination nor a very good actress, but that he was indeed in a different era. Back in the 1930s. And he had barely had time to figure it out and come out of the bedroom to find answers before Jim and Spock, overjoyed, fell on him.

The next second Edith was dead. And it was Kirk's fault., He had kept him from coming to her aid. It had been too much emotion, too quickly and too soon. He had not managed to digest it, even less to understand anything other than what he had seen:

Jim had killed Edith.

But now that Spock had brought him back to reality, it all seemed absurd. And he noticed certain details: His friend's trembling when he held him; the tears in his green eyes when he leaned against the wall; Spock's unusually soft words when he had defended Jim, "he knows doctor, he knows."

How could he have seen nothing? Holding back a moan, he confronted Spock's stern face again:

“Explain it to me.”

“I'll do it quickly. In the timeline of our current story, Edith Keeler dies in 1930. In the one you walked through, paranoid after the cordrazine syringe accident, her ideals of peace and openness reach Roosevelt's ears and America becomes a peaceful country. That prevents its involvement in the second world war. Germany wins and dominates the world. Our time, therefore, does not exist.”

“Oh.”

“By the time you got there, after roughly locating your destination, we got to know Edith. A very charming woman, particularly intelligent.”

“And, Jim—"

“Was deeply in love with her. But for the good of a whole world and not solely himself, he let her die and prevented you from committing irreparable damage.”

“My god.”

McCoy put his head in his hands, overcome with excruciating guilt. Spock watched him, suppressing the harsh words that itched on his lips. The man had realized his mistake. It was useless to add more in the current state. He sighed for a long time, feeling unpleasantly empathetic towards Jim. He admired the way the man had managed to silence all of his instincts to save everyone:

“You should go see him, doctor. I think leaving him alone right now is not the best solution. Especially since he slept and ate very little while we were on earth, and even less after he realized that Edith had to die. He was ill several times during the night. He needs help.”

“Perhaps it is better ... Chapel—”

“No, Leonard,” Spock said, as kindly as he could. “He needs you.”

McCoy let out a deep sigh. He felt silly, and unforgivable. But for the sake of his friend, and indirectly, the sake of the crew, he knew Spock was right. Grabbing his medical equipment, he left in the direction of the captain's quarters.

*****

Jim rested his forehead against the cool edge of the toilet. The doctor's words were circling in his mind, adding further weight to his overwhelming grief. He felt sick, his stomach as tight as his chest. A discomfort that had become familiar over the past few days. The intense nausea that rolled and rolled, threatening at every moment to overflow was a most unpleasant physical manifestation of his stress.

Despite his efforts to conserve food that was already scarce in their daily life in 1930, there were times when he couldn't do anything about it. Nightmares woke him in an agonizing sweat, on the verge of ruining the atrocious coarse cover of their flop.

He managed each time to sneak into the bathroom before returning the meager pittance with spasms he tried to silence. He also appreciated the discretion of Spock, who had the delicacy of pretending to sleep when Jim returned to his bed several minutes later, breathless and exhausted. But now that he was alone, aboard the Enterprise, he had no reason to contain himself, and did not fight the gagging that came out violently, like revenge for being held back so long. His stomach, however empty, kept revolting, replacing his sobs with endless contractions.

He had barely activated the door to his quarters when they had started, and he had yielded to the spasms with some relief. As unpleasant as vomiting was, his whole body tense and sore as he curled up over the toilet, at least it kept him from thinking about it. Being sick kept his mind on constant alert, focusing his attention on the spasms, gasps, bile, burning and kept the fear away. Unbearable, interminable, but ... secondary.

He coughed cautiously, catching his breath, feeling even sicker from the pungent smell that hung around him…the smell as horrible as the way he felt. This place of suffering and abandonment suited him.

He leaned over awkwardly when the bile passed his throat for the umpteenth time and spilled out in a long convulsion. He grabbed his stomach and closed his eyes so he couldn’t see the mess coloring the water again. The dizziness began to build, the light becoming unbearable as a migraine took hold of his temples, seeping through to his sinuses. He shivered, trying to reach for the chase to vent some of his weakness, when a hand rested on his forehead. Incredibly cool, it brought such comfort that he could not suppress a fragile sigh.

Tenderly the hand placed a damp cloth on the back of his neck and then finally came to cover his eyes. There was the terribly aggressive sound of the toilet flushing, then a voice whispering for the light to drop to 20%.

That voice ...

His comfort immediately ceased, replaced by anguish. He coughed sharply, spitting out more bile in an effort to shake off the impending grief. He could do nothing against the intense tremors that made him gasp, nor the panicked sob that burst through the vomiting.

“Shhh, Jim.” The voice was a broken whisper. “Shhh, everything is fine.”

Kirk wanted to yell at him to go away, to leave him, not to hurt him anymore. Irrationally afraid of the anger that had rained over him earlier at the prospect of having to face reality. Instead he could only moan, shaken by a horrible, nauseating cough.

Feeling Jim shake and panic under his fingers, McCoy was crushed by an intense wave of guilt. He had seen Jim gripped with grief, stress, drunkenness, anger... but never so completely. It was the first time he seemed ... broken ... and it was largely his fault.

The abnormal heat radiating from his skin indicated a high fever and explained his lack of self control. McCoy took a syringe out of his bag and spoke in a very soft voice so as not to hurt his friend's headaches.

“Jim, I'm going to inject you with a painkiller, it'll help you relax.”

He had no other answer than a small hiccup and a burst of bile.

Nervous vomiting, McCoy noticed. It was serious. He was going to have to play it safe to get the captain to calm down enough to free himself from his sadness and he hoped the hypo would act quickly. He thrust the syringe into his biceps and took advantage of the slight respite that followed to quickly run the medical tricorder over Jim’s upper body.

The latter told him what he already knew: extreme stress, high fever, deficiencies in iron and magnesium, low blood pressure...nothing to indicate a gastric bug apart from weakness due to deficiencies, which reinforced his theory of psychogenic nausea.

McCoy was relieved to find that the sedative had done its work: Jim was shaking less and seemed more lucid.

“Bones...what--?”

Bones. So he didn't blame him. This man's empathy would kill him eventually, the doctor thought. He put a protective arm around the Jim’s shoulders and another under his chest to support him. He could feel the angry stomach muscles that continued to struggle and tighten. He gave a sad little smile.

“We are going to talk about all this. But first, we are going to get out of this horrible room. You need to lie down.”

“Um, that's not safe,” Jim grimaced with a little hiccup.

“I'll take a bucket, but I want you to lie down. Doctor's orders.”

“If it's an o-order,” he stammered, in a slight attempt at humor.

Jim allowed himself to be helped without opening his eyes, too ill to protest, and too weak to fend for himself. Bones almost carried him to his bed.

Once lying down, McCoy carefully removed Jim’s boots and socks, pulled up a wonderfully warm blanket and put a cloth on his forehead. Then Jim heard the familiar whirr of the tricorder passing once more over his body and finally the sound of several mixes. Careful fingers rested on his right temple.

“Can you open your eyes?”

“Urgh, Bones, I'll throw up if I open them.”

“There is a bucket, don't hold back. I need you to look at me.”

Jim groaned but obeyed. The light, even though very dim, made him moan in pain. It penetrated his head like a blade and triggered, as announced, a violent nausea.

McCoy held him very gently as he threw up a thin trickle of bilious saliva. He fell completely exhausted on the pillow once the attack was over. The doctor muttered something unintelligible and wiped his face.

“I should send you to the infirmary, Jim. You have serious deficiencies and that added to the stress...this is a perfect combination for a migraine in due form. I'll put you on an IV to regulate your sugar levels and give you a strong pain reliever. It should help you feel better.”

Once everything was in place, a tactical, hesitant silence settled between them. Jim could feel his presence, sitting on the edge of the bed rather than a chair, and the warm, warm hand pressed to his shoulder. The exhaustion and sadness rose in power now that the disease could no longer build its walls around his mind. He saw Edith again. Edith and her sweetness, her love, her joy, her magnificent ideas.

"She's fair ... but not at the right time," Spock had said, trying to make her listen to reason when he...he told her that she had to...die. He had desperately looked for another way but...but—

He clenched his teeth, overtaken by the intensity of the pain. By the gesture. He had even been unable to look at her body. He had not turned around, refusing to see what he had just done, struck head-on by the horror and disgust emanating from the doctor.

He swallowed, feeling the tremors start again, the despair skyrocketing. McCoy, hearing the gasps in his friend's tight breath, tightened his grip on his shoulder.

“I ... I loved her...Bones—"

A tear gathered in the corner of his eye and he sniffled, trying to pull himself together:

“Jim,” McCoy whispered, his own emotions rising. “I ... I don't even know how to apologize.”

“You have nothing to excuse. You are right. I ... killed her.”

“No. You saved our world. You did what you had to.”

“Oh, you spoke to Spock,” Jim whispered with a bitter smile.

“Yes.”

Despite the darkness, McCoy could see the paleness growing and the captain's face tightening with the effort to hold back the sobs. He searched for a moment for words he could say to alleviate the pain. Not finding them, he shook his head.

Jim tried to speak, with difficulty. “I shouldn't—”

“You have the right to be sad. You just lost the one you love in an act of unimaginable courage. Jim, I'm an overly impulsive old fool, I can't even imagine what you've been through and I sincerely ask forgiveness for this unjustified anger.”

“Please, Bones—"

“No, let me finish. Thank you for your understanding, but you don't have to. I acted like an idiot.”

“You couldn't have known.”

“That's no excuse. I know you and should have taken a step back.”

“What is done is done.”

“Jim, what I'm trying to say is that you must not let my emotionally spoken words get to you. You didn't deserve it.”

“I...I searched and searched...and searched again. I couldn't get away from her even when I knew that—”

“You were in love.”

“No, Bones. I'm in love. A selfish person who regrets choices that he shouldn't regret.”

“You are human, and you are suffering. Let it go.”

Another tear rolled down, then another, and finally it was a torrent that poured into the pillow. The captain put a hand over his mouth to silence the gasps of despair and the overwhelming agony of loss. Bones gripped his shoulder, patting it in a comforting gesture. He watched Jim sob like a child, breathing laboriously through exhaustion and mourning. Then he gradually calmed down until he fell into a deep sleep.

The doctor sighed and wiped away his own tears that had started at the same time as his friend's, and that he had not tried to stop. He readjusted the IVs and scanned Jim’s body for the third time. His fever was still high from a mild viral infection after several weeks in the cold and fatigue undernourishment. Jim would be off for a few days and stay in bed.

When he left the room, the doctor was not surprised to find Spock standing and waiting with arched eyebrows.

“How is he?”

“Exhausted and cold, but fine.”

“Has he been able to express his sorrow?”

“I guess, yes.” McCoy smiled, thinking of his friend's relaxed face as he left the room.

“And were you able to express yours?”

The doctor jumped slightly, not at all prepared for this question, much less for Spock to say it. He was sometimes pleasantly surprised by the well-hidden sensitivity of his Vulcan friend. A lump formed in his throat and he swallowed it.

“You are about to cry.”

“Damned be your insight, Mister Spock,” the doctor growled, a little annoyed.

“Humans all must cry at one time or another to get better, doctor. I do not understand why you put a manly bulwark in front of this natural mechanism.”

Bones laughed. “Wouldn't you find it embarrassing for me to break down in tears right now in your arms?”

He expected Spock to answer him, "Vulcans don't know the gene, doctor." Instead he replied, in his usual relaxed and serene tone, “If that makes you feel better, no.”

Such compassion was so strange that it almost seemed out of place. Leonard burst out into a frank laugh that turned without realizing it into a flood of tears. Tears of his own sadness this time, not empathy or guilt. Sadness he didn't think he had. Maybe he was also a little in love with Edith after all. And that the Vulcan understood it well before him.

Spock, moreover, did not pretend to leave, contenting himself to stay by his side until McCoy’s tears turned back into laughter.

“Why are you laughing?” the first officer asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, Mister Spock, because I’m thinking of the absurd spectacle we would have made if someone had been there. The ship's doctor weeping like a baby in front of a motionless Vulcan and their captain's closed door.”

Spock coughed and McCoy would swear to anyone who wanted to hear it that he was blushing.

“Well, you're not a hopeless case,” he said with a smirk, patting him on the shoulder. “Thanks, Spock.”

Then he turned on his heel towards the infirmary without hearing the relieved sigh of his alien friend.

#star trek sickfic #sickfic #TOS sickfic #sick kirk #panicked kirk #emotional hurt/comfort #physical hurt/comfort #emeto #tw emeto #tw panic attack

10 notes · View notes

ressyfaerie · 3 years

Note

Tyka request: I love bit beast merging so the idea that Tyson has been forced to merge with Black Dranzer has always floated in my head. Kai arrives too late. Boris and his Grandfather found a way to break Tyson's will to accept Black Dranzer, probably to save Kai's life and Kai can only watch!

I LOVE THIS. I am the god of angst writing, so when you ask for angst, I’m bringing A N G S T. Anything in * are Tyson’s thoughts!

I’ve now written it all and- I just had so much fun with it. This was the kind of ask I was born for. Thank you for sending this to me- I hope you know I’ve been working on this all day lmao. It turned out way longer than I wanted it to be. But damn, it’s good. I’m going to keep the start in regular format, and put the rest in a read more, I don’t know if tumblr will even let me post this much LOL, but let’s try it:

“Hello, Tyson Granger. Welcome to BIC”

“Call it what it is Boris, BEGA- round two.”

“You know better Tyson, The Beyblade International Congress is so much more.”

Tyson scoffed, he scrunched up his face in Voltaire’s direction.

He had one hand in his pocket, where dragoon would normally be. Instead, his hand held emptiness, there was nothing, and no one, to comfort him now.

The room security had led him into was windowless. It could have been the basement or the hundredth floor of the building.

Tyson had lost all sense of direction since Dragoon was stolen from him, the feeling was nothing out of the ordinary.

The world champion wore an expression no one had ever seen before. Determined, enraged, vulnerable, confused, he felt everything all at once, there was only one thing he was absolutely certain of:

He had to get Dragoon, and his friend’s bit-beasts back, at any cost.

“You two know why I’m here.”

Boris grew a porcelain smile from ear to ear.

“To finally join our team of course.”

Tyson laughed in response, “I never had any intention of joining BEGA, which means its shitty counterpart is out of the question.”

“This child has grown up since we last saw him.” Voltaire leaned more on his cane, inspecting every bit of Tyson’s body.

Tyson felt like some kid’s science project in their backyard. He shuddered, terrified to think the abbey boys lived like this every day.

“I hoped he would have grown-up, Voltaire. It’s been almost three years after all.”

Boris waved his hand. The security guards that escorted Tyson turned on their heels and marched out the door. Tyson was left alone with two old men, but he still felt danger.

The silence that ensued was deafening, the glares they locked on Tyson made the hair raise on his spine.

He now understood Tala and Kai’s fear of these men. The pure power they confidently exhibited by just standing there, was compared to nothing he had ever experienced.

Two men, three times his age- two men who should be in jail, serving life sentences- one man who raised and abused his best friend, one man who was his best friend’s flesh and blood.

Tyson took a deep breath. He stabilized his voice before stating his demand.

“Give me back my bit-beasts.”

The men let out deep laughs, starting out as low grumbles, and ascending into loud chortles.

Boris spoke first.

“You think you can just waltz into my high-tech facility- and I’ll just give you back what I stole? And stole so easily mind you-”

“So, you did steal them.” Tyson’s firsts were curled, his fingertips formed indents in his palms, he wanted to lash out in anger, but he knew better.

“Of course, wasn’t it obvious?”

“I have proof- I’ll get the police-”

The men laughed again, this time louder.

“I own the police.” A shadow fell over Voltaire’s face.

For the first time, Tyson felt true fear.

No bit beast- no battle- nothing could compare to this.

Tyson’s heart sunk, as he became painfully aware his overconfidence, could be his downfall.

Now, he was trapped.

“Would joining my team sound better if I told you you could have Dragoon back?” Boris’ voice was coated with honey, but Tyson knew better.

Tyson’s eyes shot in Boris’ direction. He squinted his eyes.

“Without making a deal with me, you and your friends will never see their pets again.”

“I’ll never make a deal with you.” Tyson spat.

“Pretty soon you’ll have no choice-” Voltaire cut Boris off.

“How old are you now Tyson?” His voice had changed, he leaned more into his cane.

“Almost nineteen.” Tyson grinned, “I’m an adult now. You can’t hurt me.”

The two men gave each other a look Tyson didn’t miss. Voltaire spoke first.

“What if we told you we needed your help.”

Tyson put up his shields immediately, he raised an eyebrow. “Help? What could I possibly help two billionaires with?”

“Something that only a blader as strong as you can.”

“No.” Tyson refused.

“Hear us out.” Boris took a step towards him, Tysons swore he heard a door lock behind him.

“We have a theory- if that theory is correct, we can change the future of the sport- no, the future of everything.”

Tyson’s interest was piqued, but that wouldn’t change his decision.

“The answer is still no.”

Boris took a step towards him, “what if we gave you your bit-beasts back in exchange?”

Tyson saw through Boris’ trap, it was a deal he couldn't ignore.

Tyson just stared back at him.

Voltaire interrupted, “we have found a way to merge bit-beasts with humans.”

Tyson felt his heart stop.

Boris grinned, presenting his hands in front of him, “the possibilities are endless Tyson, imagine- superhumans. Beyblading would ascend to a whole new level. The history of warfare changed, just like that.” He snapped his fingers.

It was terrifying how a man could keep a smile while talking about changing the history of warfare.

“I’m not helping you experiment by changing people into weapons.” Tyson’s face wrinkled into a disgusted scowl, “what do you need me for anyway?”

“See, Tyson…” Boris continued, “the science has been researched for decades- but I’m fairly confident this process requires someone of a certain caliber…”

“Someone who already has a strong connection to bit-beasts.” Voltaire stated.

“Don’t you have tons of kids lined up in your arsenal? Why me?” Tyson’s voice grew louder.

“Ha! None of my boys are as strong as you and your team Tyson.” Boris chuckled before continuing, “you’re special, your connection to dragoon and other spirits is stronger than anyone on the planet. You are my missing puzzle piece, I’m certain you’ll be the right fit.”

“The other members of your team might work, but no one is like you.” Voltaire nodded,

“No. I refuse.” Tyson took a deep breath, “I’m not your pawn, I won’t help you.”

Silence.

Voltaire clicked his cane on the tile floor.

“I hope you are aware; if you don’t do this, we will make sure Kai will.”

Tyson swung his head in his direction, ready to scream if necessary.

“Ah, watch it Tyson.” Boris threatened the boy, Tyson’s chest heaved erratically.

“What do you mean?” Tyson said through gritted teeth. “He would never agree to this-”

“No, he wouldn’t.” Voltaire shook his head, then became totally still as his glare set on Tyson, “but I don’t need his permission.”

“You’re sick.” Tyson spat.

“It would be so easy.” Boris reached into his pocket grabbing a remote, he pressed a button, a screen rolled down in the large room.

The screen turned on, on it was a picture of Kai, and a ton of numbers Tyson didn’t understand, but what caught his attention, was a simple map, with a blinking red dot.

“We know where Kai is at all times,” Voltaire said in a low voice.

“If you refuse to help us, we will take him as needed.”

“That’s kidnapping.” Tyson pointed out the obvious fact, he should have known better, that stealing a person was one of the minor crimes Boris has committed.

“Not like I haven’t done it before.” Boris shrugged, as if he was talking about taking a candy bar.

Tyson swallowed, “he- he wouldn’t let this happen without a fight.”

“As expected. If he fights it, the process could easily mess up… Ideally we want someone who will work with us, but it’s not necessary.”

“I’ll find him. We will run away-”

“When I say we know everything about Kai I mean we know everything, Tyson.”

Voltaire looked to the ceiling, “We know when he goes for jogs.”

“Sunday mornings and Wednesday evenings.” Boris raised a finger in the air.

“We know when he eats, when he sleeps, where he sleeps.” Voltaire emphasized ‘where’ maliciously.

Tyson growled. Voltaire hummed.

“That’s right Tyson, he’s been staying at your place frequently.”

Boris tried to suppress a laugh, “we even know what happened last Saturday-”

“Boris!” Voltaire hissed.

Tyson’s eyes widened, “How would you know that!? We were alone, in my room, in my home!?”

“We know everything, Tyson.”

Tyson met Voltaire’s eyes with disgust.

“It seems like a win-win situation, Tyson. I’m giving you a good deal, when you know I don’t have to.” Boris folded his arms. “You go through with this procedure, we give you- and your friends their bit-beasts back, and we leave Kai alone.”

Tyson’s body felt ice cold.

“I want you to know Tyson, Boris is too afraid to admit it-” Voltaire’s voice was draped in darkness, “we aren’t letting you leave here today without doing something.”

Tyson stopped breathing.

Boris confidently waltzed to Tyson’s side, Tyson didn’t move, he was paralyzed with fear.

The purple-haired man’s face was inches away from Tyson’s now.

“You either take the deal, or have it happen anyways- but if you take the deal, world champion, you must work with us willingly.”

Tyson was his height now, but he still felt small.

Boris placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t- touch me.” Tyson shrugged him off aggressively.

“Last chance world champ.” Voltaire clicked his tongue, “what will it be?”

Tyson met both their eyes, looking back and forth, his breathing showed anger, his fists clenched in frustration.

He was stuck. Trapped. Nowhere to go. He took a deep breath, held it, and let it out. He let his body accept defeat.

“Fine. I’ll take your deal.”

“Where did Tyson go anyways?” Max hummed to Ray while sliding his feet on the smooth wooden floors of the dojo.

“Is he with Kai again? They’ve been hanging out a lot…” Ray pointed out.

Kenny was sitting on the floor with his laptop open. “Tyson left just before lunchtime.”

“No lunch!?” Hilary snapped, “that’s not like him.”

“It’s not like him to miss practice…” Ray tried to hide the subtle worry on his face.

“I’ll try phoning him,” Max suggested, pulling out his rose gold iPhone.

“I’m sure he’s fine guys.” Hilary rolled her eyes, knowing the bluenette was always late.

“We can’t be too careful…” Kenny hesitated before saying his next words, “With Boris being back…”

The room fell quiet, the only sound was the ringing of Max’s phone.

“He’s not picking up.” Max hung up the call.

“Try Kai’s phone,” Ray smirked. “They’re always together now.”

Max flipped through his phone and put it on speaker. The phone rang a few times, they heard the click of it being answered.

“Hello?” They heard Kai’s familiar gruff voice.

“Hey Kai, sorry, are you driving?” Max spoke a little louder than usual.

“Yeah, but I have you on speaker, it’s fine.” They heard the sounds of the highway around him.

“Hey, is Tyson with you?” Ray asked, his voice shaking a bit.

“No, why?” They heard the sound of Kai’s blinker in the background.

“He disappeared before lunch, he's not here for practice yet.” Max eagerly awaited Kai’s response.

“That’s odd,” Kai remarked.

“Are you going to be here soon?” Ray asked.

“Yeah, I’m just coming down the road now. Have you tried phoning him?”

“I tried…” Max fidgeted with his open hand, “he didn’t pick up.”

“He always answers his phone.” The team detected a hint of worry in Kai’s voice. “I’m outside now.”

They heard Kai hang up the phone, without as much as a goodbye, but that was very typical Kai.

They sat in the same positions, wordless. They heard the front door open, the sound of Kai taking off his shoes. They heard the floorboards creak as he made his way down the hall to the dojo. The door slid open.

“Hey Kai!” Hilary tried to be cheerful, but she just sounded worried.

“Hey,” Kai responded. Without missing a beat, “where is Tyson?”

“No one knows.” Kenny stopped typing at his laptop to look up at the master blader. He readjusted his glasses.

“He left before lunch, he’s been gone a few hours.” Kenny had a hard time keeping eye contact with Kai, when Kai got serious- he got scary.

“It’s weird of him to miss practice…” Max fiddled with his thumbs.

Ray looked up at the ceiling, “not like we can do much practicing anyway.”

The room went quiet. They were all still in mourning over the unexpected loss of their blades. The day they woke up to discover all of their blades had been stolen, was the moment they realized Boris coming back now, in their late teens, was serious.

“I’m worried.” Kai admitted, he pulled out his phone, and began to phone Tyson.”

“That was fast, do you have him on speed dial?” Ray grinned trying to lighten the mood.

Kai responded seriously, “yes.”

They heard the phone ring a few times, before going to voicemail. Kai hesitated, before deciding to leave one.

“Hey, Tyson- It’s Kai. Get back to me soon, I’m getting worried.” He hung up the phone and held it loosely in his hands.

“Aw, Kai’s worried.” Hilary cooed.

“With Boris back, and our blades gone, we can’t be too careful.” Ray crossed his arms.

“What’s goin’ on here fellas?” Grandpa poked his head through the doors from the garden.

“Tyson’s been gone for a long time, he’s not answering his phone.” Kenny went back to his laptop, most likely trying to find out any information he could.

“When did he leave?” Kai asked Ryu.

“I told Kenny when he got here, right before lunchtime- Wait K-man didn’t you stay the night last night?”

The whole room went quiet.

“Yeah, but I was gone early in the morning,” Kai responded.

“You stayed the night?-” Max got cut off by Ray.

“Was he in an alright mood?”

“He was fine.” Kai knitted his eyebrows in thought, “now that I think about it, he was in his head a bit.”

The ground collectively became agitated, everyone knew a moody Tyson could be anywhere.

“Did you do anything to piss him off?” Ray squinted his eyes in Kai’s direction.

“No.” Kai knew for certain he didn’t hurt Tyson. After all, they had a great night.

Kai tried to suppress a smile, remembering how they fell asleep beside each other watching movies in Tyson’s room.

“You stayed the night?-” Max got cut off again by Ray-

“Are you sure Kai? You know you have a habit of annoying him.”

“I’m absolutely certain. Tyson was fine when I left this morning.”

“Was he up? How did you know?” Ray interrogated him more than questioning.

Kai hesitated, he didn’t know if it was okay to tell them they slept in the same bed.

“You *stayed* the night!?” This time Max yelled it, so he couldn’t be ignored.

Everyone stared at Max, “Why did you stay the night? Where did you sleep?”

“Um-” Kai tried to retort back, but suddenly realized he didn’t know what excuse to make.

They caught his awkwardness, it was unlike the silver-tongued boy to not have a sassy remark.

“Family troubles. I stayed in the spare room across from Tyson’s. He got up to eat breakfast with me- He was fine.”

All lies.

“I’m going to check his room.” Kai turned around to go upstairs.

When Kai was out of earshot, Max coyly asked Tyson’s Grandpa, “Did he really stay in the spare room?”

“Ha! No, that boy has been staying here often, and those sheets have never been changed- or used.”

The group followed Kai upstairs like a lost herd.

In Tyson’s room, Kai was scanning it, looking for anything off.

The whole team looked around, but only Kai knew what was out of place.

“Hey Kai.” Ray giggled.

On Tyson’s vanity, yes- Tyson had a vanity, because of course he did. He had a thumb-sized picture of kai stuck to the edge of the mirror.

“There are no pictures of us, just you- what’s up with that?” Ray pretended to act jealous.

Kai ignored him. He gave Tyson that photo when Tyson asked for a photo of him. It wasn’t his favourite thing to look at. When he looked at it he would laugh, because it was, simply, so Tyson.

Kai’s eyes landed on his pillow, it was poofier than usual. He ripped up the pillow and tossed it to the side. Under it was a book. Kai knew it was out of place, he had never seen Tyson pick up a book in his life.

He opened the book and flipped through it, everyone watched him, knowing something was up.

In the middle of the book was a note, Kai pulled it out, and threw the book to the side.

‘I guess if you’ve found this, you’re looking for me huh?’

‘That means I’ve been gone a while, sorry.’

‘I guess you should know, if I’ve been gone a long time, something has probably happened to me.’

‘I’m going to see Boris. I’m leaving at 11am.’

‘He invited me. I know it’s a bad idea. I don’t want to bring anyone else into this.’

‘Especially you Kai. You’ve dealt this enough shit from that guy.’

‘I know he stole our blades, even if we don’t have proof, I know.’

‘I’m going to get them back, no matter the cost, and I don’t want anyone else’s help.’

‘I love you guys! I love you Kai.’

Ray snatched the note from Kai and began to read it.

Kai put a hand to his face in shock. His eyes started to water. He was terrified, his body didn’t know how to begin to process this, but he knew he needed to go.

“Where is he?” Kai had a voice of white anger.

“We don’t know Kai.” Kenny recoiled.

“Boris, where is he.”

Kai picked up the book and flipped through it.

“We don’t know where his base is Kai-” Kenny blubbered.

Kai threw the book against the wall at full force.

“WHERE IS HE!?”

Ray flipped the note over, “there’s an address on the back.”

Kai ripped it out of his hands.

“I’m going-”

“No, you are NOT Kai!” Ray scolded him. “We’re going to go to the BBA, tell Mr. Dickenson, and call the police-”

“We don’t have the time for that!” Kai yelled at Ray.

The team was stunned, Kai had never been this angry.

He placed his hands over his face and pulled them down to cover his mouth. “I need to save him.”

“We don’t know he’s in danger-”

“I KNOW he is.” Kai was shaking.

Suddenly, Kai bolted out of the room with the address in hand-

“Kai!” Max called after him.

Kai frantically began to put his shoes on, the team barrelled down the stairs behind him.

“You can’t go in there without a plan, you moron!” Hilary screeched at him.

“Try me!” Kai yelled back.

“What’s going on?” Grandpa had come from the kitchen, Kai used the distraction to bolt out the door to his car.

He started the car as fast as possible and pulled out of the driveway. The team ran out to the street behind him, they watched him leave, worried they could lose both of them.

“Take it off.”

“Excuse me?”

“Your jacket, off- now.”

Boris pulled at the zipper on the front of Tyson’s jacket. Tyson sighed and pulled it down.

Boris helped him out of the jacket, he took it and wrapped it in his arms, it was oddly paternal. Boris looked him up and down, judging him, like he was looking for the best cut of meat in a shop.

He only wore a thin black muscle shirt now, and his dark ripped jeans, with the shoes he made Kai help him pick out. He was fully clothed, but he felt naked.

“Boris, what did I say about being creepy?” Voltaire scolded him, like a child.

Boris rolled his shoulder, still keeping his gaze on Tyson, “Sorry, can’t help myself.”

“Come into the lab.” Voltaire turned, heading for another door.

Boris gently pushed Tyson by his shoulder. Tyson followed willingly, worried what would happen if he resisted.

Inside the steel double doors was a dark room. The light turned on upon entry, to reveal computers, servers, chemistry equipment, and large water-filled tubes, big enough for a person, or a monster.

Boris threw Tyson’s jacket to a swivel chair, he turned on a computer, Voltaire stood beside what Tyson recognized as a large bey dish.

“I want to see my friend’s beyblades.”

“Of course.” Voltaire disappeared behind some servers, out of sight.

Boris clicked a mouse a few times, “huh, looks like Kai was in your bedroom. His heart rate has skyrocketed, do you have any idea why that could be?”

Tyson tried to hide his surprise.

*Could he have found my note? No- I don’t want him to come here.*

“I don’t know.” Tyson kept his eyes on the wall.

“Maybe he’s just doing something freaky.” Boris grinned.

“You’re disgusting.”

Voltaire reappeared with a black briefcase. He placed it on a table close to Tyson, but not too close. He opened it, to reveal Dragoon, and the rest of the blades delicately blacked in foam inserts.

“I want to see them.” Tyson reached his hand forward.

Voltaire slammed the case shut. “Not until you finish our task.”

Tyson scowled, all he wanted was to feel Dragoon in his hands again.

“Voltaire, come here.” Boris gestured to bring him over to the computer.

Tyson tried to follow, but Voltaire stopped him with an aggressive hand signal.

Voltaire leaned over the chair and inspected the computer screen.

“It looks like he’s heading in this direction.” Boris was deeply concentrated on the computer screen, clicking around fast.

“And he’s approaching fast.” Voltaire hummed, he rubbed his chin. “Stop the car.”

“Really?” Boris had a surprised expression.

“We can’t have him coming here can we?”

“Alright.” Boris began to type at the keyboard frantically.

Voltaire placed a chair in the middle of the room, he patted it, silently telling Tyson to sit down.

Tyson shook his head, Voltaire gave him an intense glare- Tyson approached the chair and sat down, making sure the men were still in his vision.

“Boris, are you done?” Voltaire demanded.

“Yes.” He reached towards a cupboard with glass drawers. He unlocked it and pulled out some medical supplies.

“What’s that?” Tyson asked, worried it was for him.

Boris swiveled over in his chair towards him. Voltaire grabbed a metal table with wheels and moved it towards Tyson.

Boris unwrapped a cloth to reveal four syringes.

“What are those? They better not be for me.” Tyson flinched as Boris picked one up.

“There’s magic,” Boris got a syringe ready, and grabbed a small damp wipe, “and then there’s science, today we will be utilizing both.”

He wiped the small cloth on Tyson’s bicep. He recoiled.

“Don’t be scared Tyson, it won’t hurt.”

“Do you even know what you’re doing?” Tyson was concerned, Boris got the supplies ready expertly.

“I used to be a doctor.”

Tyson’s focus lingered on ‘used to’.

“Don’t look if it bothers you,” Boris grumbled.

Tyson turned to look at the wall in the opposite direction as he felt the numb jab in his arm.

Kai had never driven faster. He swerved in and out of traffic to get to the building downtown. Flying down the highway with intense speed. He slammed his hand on the wheel.

“Fuck!”

He looked at the speedometer, it was going down, even though he knew he was accelerating.

“What the fuck?”

Kai felt his car lose power.

“No! No no no no no-”

The lights in his car dimmed, and suddenly the whole car lost life.

He pulled over to the side of the road. Slamming his hand on the radio as if it would help. He opened his door and got out kicking the wheels of the car in frustration.

He swore and cursed. He didn’t know enough about cars to know what went wrong, and he didn’t have time to fix it. He stared into the mass of buildings. He could make it.

He just had to run.

Tyon had four needles shoved into his arm in total. Boris refused to tell him exactly what they were, he only answered with ‘you wouldn’t understand even if I told you’.

Now, Voltaire watched the computer and Boris hooked up a few devices to Tyson. He wrapped a bracelet around his wrist, and something around his bicep.

“Take off your shirt.”

“Do I have to?” Tyson tried to give him a sassy retort, he might have been completely vulnerable, but he still wanted to keep his dignity intact.

“Yes.” Boris grinned, flicking the end of his shirt.

“No, you don’t have to,” Voltaire stated without pause.

Tyson narrowed his eyes at Boris.

“I have to attach something to your back.”

Tyson still wore a suspicious expression, but he did it anyway, he didn’t think he could feel any more naked than he already did.

Shirtless, he felt the cold of the lab prick at his skin. Boris attached a few small stickers to his back.

“There.” Boris smiled, looking Tyson up and down, “I’m done.”

“You didn’t have to take off my shirt for that.”

Boris nodded.

“How did I get stuck with a creep like you.” Voltaire squeezed the brim of his nose.

“I’m merging with Dragoon now?” Tyson’s skin prickled in anticipation of getting his bit-beast back, then he realized, his skin was prickling with a different sort of heat.

“Oh no- you won’t be merging with Dragoon.” Voltaire turned to look at Tyson.

“Dragoon is far too unpredictable, we haven't studied him enough yet, but there is one bit-beast who we know everything about.”

Boris turned to open a locked metal box on a table.

Tyson rose from his seat, staring at his forearm, his body felt- weird.

“What did you do to me?”

“Science.” Voltaire said just under his breath, “here.”

Boris held his hand upside down, Tyson held out his palm. He felt the familiar touch of a blade. Boris pulled his hand away, Tyson felt instant panic when he stared into his open hand.

Black Dranzer.

Tyson felt his whole world sway. His eyes felt heavy, but strangely, he felt strong.

“What did you give me? Am I allergic to it?” Tyson stared at Boris.

“No,” he laughed, “You’re fine.”

Voltaire gestured to the dish, “Tyson, launch it.”

Tyson felt the nerve endings in his hand, anything touching black Dranzer felt numb, completely void of power. He could see the veins on his forearm, sticking out more than ever before. He felt cold air enter his lungs, and exhale. Everything was enhanced. His world was spinning, but he felt invincible.

He could feel pulses from black Dranzer, the raw power emanating from it was toxic. Tyson could feel it begging to be used.

‘Use me, use me, use me.’

It pleaded with him. It felt addicting. Tyson now understood why Kai was so attracted to the blade, and he understood how hard it was to give it up.

He noticed Boris had been handing him a launcher for who knows how long.

Tyson took it, a blade and a launcher in his hands was his default state, but now felt foreign.

“Launch it,” Boris demanded.

Tyson turned to the dish near them. He stood in front of it. His pupils invaded his iris.

*The pure power of black Dranzer…*

He loaded it. He stood there, breathing erratically. He got into position.

Silence. Total silence. No sound existed, he forgot what it felt like to hear. He heard the screech of a bird in the back of his skull, and he let go.

A shockwave erupted as black Dranzer was released, finally, after years of being locked up. The equipment in the lab slid backwards, Boris and Voltaire almost lost their footing.

Tyson wobbled as he let the blade center in the dish, perfectly still, spinning so fast it looked stationary.

In front of him, he saw it, the dreaded bit-beast. It felt unnatural. Dragoon felt different, Dragoon felt right, black Dranzer felt… Sad.

*She’s not supposed to exist.*

“I can feel her.” Tyon felt tears roll down his face.

He held open his arms.

“I can save you!”

Black Dranzer screeched, with a powerful gust from her wings she soared into him. He felt a dark sludge seep into his veins, stopping his heart.

“AhK!” Tyson held his chest, suppressing screams.

Then, everything went black.

“Tyson!” Kai screamed in an alleyway behind the building he suspected Boris was holed up in.

He tried a back door, wiggling it frantically. His back was covered in sweat from running. It was locked, with no chance of it opening.

He tried another door, the same issue.

He could run in the front doors, but he would be noticed instantly.

“What’s that?!”

It looked to be an old laundry shoot, a lot of these old buildings had them. Before he could use his brain, he was scaling the shoot, it looked to be only a story and a half until it turned into the building.

He started climbing.

*Tyson, I’m coming. Just hold on.*

Tyson opened his eyes. Boris was beside him holding his shoulder shouting unintelligible phrases at him. Words meant nothing to him.

His head was pounding. He used his arms to hug himself, rocking back and forth.

“Don’t fight it Tyson. Accept it.” Boris whispered in his ear.

“N- No.” Tyson whimpered. His head felt like it had been split open.

His tongue felt different when he talked. His vision felt different, things felt… Wrong. He fell over to his side, letting the feeling overtake him.

Kai was running through the empty corridors. He had run past a training facility and dorms. He had viewed a map and determined where he thought Boris would have put a lab. He threw open a door to a stair corridor and flew down them, almost tripping. He just hoped he was right about the location of Boris’ lab.

He was right.

He found himself in a huge room, He stopped, placing his hands on his knees and gasping for air.

In front of him were two steel doors. He knew Tyson was inside.

With every last bit of his strength, he ran towards the doors, when he tried to rattle the doorknob it was locked, he kicked it, once, twice, three times. He took a few steps back and thrusted his whole body against them. The doors ripped open, shattering the lock in between them.

Boris wasn’t a surprise, but his own Grandfather-

In the middle of the room, Tyson’s body was splayed on the ground.

“What did you do to him!?” Kai screamed.

He ran over to Tyson, Boris tried to stop him-

“Fuck off!” Kai hollered landed a fist into Boris’ stomach.

Boris keeled over in pain.

Kai stopped before kneeling down.

The most important person to him- he didn’t look like himself.

His blue hair, now black. His nails, ebony talons. On his back, were black wings. Kai felt nauseous.

“Tyson…” Kai collapsed beside him.

He reached under his lower back and pulled him into a sitting position. Kai brushed back his long hair. He didn’t know what he expected coming here, but not this.

“What happened- what did-”

“He merged with black Dranzer, and he- is beautiful.”

“You don’t get to speak Boris!” Kai screamed but wouldn’t dare take his eyes off Tyson.

Tyson’s eyes flickered open, they stayed half-open, Kai shook him.

“Tyson? Tyson, answer me, please.”

Tyson didn’t move.

“We just got started- You can’t- Don’t you die on me.” Kai’s throat was dry, he could barely make out words.

“Change him back!” The blader who was most well known for being emotionless now threw everything he had at the world. Tears streaming down his face, screaming at the people who held him back his whole life.

“We can, but we won’t right now.”

To hear his Grandfather say it, somehow hurt more.

“Change him back, right now.” Kai shook, holding Tyson close to his chest.

Boris managed to stand upright after taking the powerful blow.

“We will change him back when it suits us.”

“Mm- Kai?”

Kai stared into Tyson’s eyes, “You’re awake!” Kai kissed his forehead, thanking the god he didn’t believe in.

Tyson’s wings seemed to shudder when it happened.

“I’m fine Kai, don’t worry about me.” Tyson held up his hand to stroke Kai’s face, his eyes grew wide when he saw his own fingertips.

“It’s okay- don’t look at them look at me- hey- me, look at me” Kai covered his hand with his own and made sure Tyson was focused on him.

Tyson choked back tears, “I love you-”

Kai closed his eyes and squeezed his hand.

Voltaire took a confident step forward.

“We don’t want to hurt you-”

“Look at what you’ve done to him!” Kai screeched.

“We just want you to join the new BEGA.” Boris wore a cheeky grin, he knew he won.

Kai’s chest heaved, “I’ll never join you, never again-”

“You’ll find you have no choice Kiai.” His grandfather tilted his head.

Boris laughed, his evil sinister laugh, the laugh Kai remembered from the abbey.

“BEGA owns you.”

52 notes · View notes

randomrosewrites · 3 years

Text

Scorched by the sun

*Contains BNHA manga spoilers up to chapter 291*

Pairing: Hawks x gender netural reader

Word count: ~1700

He looks so small without his wings. Helpless. Without them, he seems younger than he actually is. It’s so hard to think that the person in your arms is a pro-hero, and not just some college student trying to pay off his student debt.

He’s still so young, and yet, he’s already had to decide between his life and the life of others.

Warnings/ tags: BNHA manga spoilers *Up to chapter 291*, angst, brief instance of a panic attack, decription of Hawks’ injuries, angst and fluff, reader is a pro-hero

a/n: I needed to get my feelings out about Hawks in the latest chapter so take this (with better medical treatment because why the fuck would you lay an unconscious person face down?) Also, the reader’s relationship with Hawks is never specified

Read it also on my ao3!

WARNING: This work has BNHA manga spoilers up to chapter 291

Everything is in chaos.

People are screaming, multiple sirens wail in the distance, and the smell of smoke clings to the air, even with how far away you are from the battlefield. There’s this persistent urgency that spreads like a plague from person to person, making your nerves jolt with electricity.

“Bring only what’s essential and light enough for you to carry!” you shout, directing a wave of people further away from the evacuated area. “Leave behind anything heavy or non-essential!”

Boom! An explosion a few blocks down makes the ground shake so much you have to put a hand out and steady yourself. You grit your teeth and regain your balance. That was the closest one yet and they’re just getting closer.

Things aren’t looking great for the heroes. Even though you’re on their side, that doesn’t mean you don’t agree with what they’re doing.

You never agreed with the world the Hero Public Safety Commission strived to enforce. One where heroes were expected to always triumph, where they never lost, where they were always pure of heart. Just listening to that gobbldy-gook being ranted about everywhere you went was enough to make you roll your eyes.

No, you aren’t on the side of heroes to hold up the ideals of the commission. You’re only one reason why you’re on the side of the heroes. Specifically, one person.

That’s when you hear it on the radio.

‘H - kws i-s….d...own...out...figh…’

Your heartbeat pounds in your chest. You press the bud deeper into your ear, moving to get a better reception.

‘H...awks….is...Hawks is down and unable to fight. I repeat Hawks is down and unable to fight!’

Your blood turns to ice.

You don’t think, you just move. You take off, sprinting in the opposite direction of those evacuating. One of the on-duty heroes calls your name, you don’t hear them.

You shouldn’t be doing this - you know you shouldn’t - but you can’t help yourself.

The radio crackles in your ear. “ Y/N, hold your position!”

“Where is he?” you bark into it.

“That’s not-”

“Where is he!?”

The person on the other end sighs. “The temporary med camp by the rear guard - don’t! -”

You tug the bud out of your ear, letting it bang against your shoulder as you run.

Please don’t be dead, please be ok. You pray, forcing yourself to sprint faster.

---

You go as fast as you can, but it still takes you a while to each the medical camp the person on the radio was talking about.

Located behind the last line of defense, the place is a chaotic, frantic mess. Broken trees are snapped in half and lying on the ground, rubble is strewn across the camp and some white, medical tents have collapsed on themselves, temporary beams propped up haphazardly to keep them from falling completely.

Doctors and nurses run around, tending to the wounded, giving out blankets, or passing along bottles of water and first aid kits. The wounded lie on blankets spread out on the ground, wherever space is available. The place reeks of disinfectant and blood, making your nose curl.

You pass, ten, twenty, and even thirty wounded. They’re bloody, pale, writhing in agony or clenching their teeth as cold sweat pours from their face. The knot in your stomach only worms itself tighter with each person you pass.

Then you spot him.

Near the end of the camp, lying on his stomach, covered in bandages from the waist up.

Hawks.

Or a figment of what used to be Hawks, the number two pro-hero. There’s no sign of his beautiful, large, red wings, only little bandaged humps where the stumps would be. His hair is tousled, singed at the edges and spread upon the pillow like a halo.

Tokoyami is beside him, eyes wide when he notices you. “Y/N!”

“Oh,-” the cogs in your brain turn and you rush forward. “Oh my god. Jesus, Tokoyami, why is he on his front?!”

Don’t cry. You tell yourself. Don’t cry and don’t panic.

You kneel beside him going to touch Hawks before you pause. You know it’s bad to move people that are injured. “Is his neck injured? Why is he on his front? He shouldn’t be on his front! You could cut off his airway!” Fuck it, bad or not, you’ll take it over Hawks suffocating. Being as gentle as you can, you gently roll Hawks onto his side. His body is limp as you do it - he’s unconscious.

“I- I didn’t know,” Tokoyami splutters. “There’s been so much going on and there’s not enough doctors and-” he cuts off, choking on his own words.

Fuck. The poor kid is terrified and looks to be on the verge of tears. You take a breath, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, look at me.”

He lifts his eyes to meet yours.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you. I shouldn’t have done that. I was panicking, and not thinking straight.” You shouldn’t have even moved Hawks without knowing how severely he was injured. “Deep breaths. Slow. Ok? Here, breathe with me.”

The two of you take breaths together. As you do, your eyes travel to Hawks. Relief floods you when you see his chest rise and fall slowly. He’s breathing.

You breathe in silence. You don’t want to say ‘Everything is gonna be ok’ or give some sort of false reassurances to Tokoyami, because will it? You don’t know.

Once you’ve both calmed down, you ask him, “Can you tell me how he’s doing?”

“He’s badly burned.” Tokoyami starts. “I tried to stop it as best as I could but…”

You clutch Hawks tighter. “Who?”

“Dabi.”

You growl. That bastard who’d been ranting on the television just as you had almost reached the camp. Among his speech, he’d made a few stabs at Hawks, claiming he was a violent person and revealing to the world how he murdered a villain in ‘cold blood’.

Your fingers tighten. Hawks killed someone, in cold-blood or not. It’s a hard but true pill you need to swallow.

Despite that, you want nothing more than to wrap your arms around Hawks and hold onto him for dear life. The only thing stopping you from doing that is the fear of aggravating his injuries further. You settle for combing your fingers through his hair. What would normally feel soft and healthy now feels like dry straw between your fingers.

Just how badly was he burned?

“I asked Hawks what to do and he told me to run, so I grabbed him and ran as fast as I could,” Tokoyami continues. “We got here less than an hour ago.”

You look down at Hawks, where the little patches of bandages don’t cover his face. The skin is an angry shade of red, stretching up his neck and his face. “Is it...bad?”

“He’s stable, but he’s in rough shape. He hit his head as I was trying to get us back and he’s been unconscious since then.”

You brave yourself for the thing you’re most nervous about. “How about his wings?” you ask breathlessly.

“...There’s barely anything left. The doctor’s don’t know if they can be saved at all.” Tokoyami pauses, biting his lip. “I wonder, if I’d been faster-”

“Hey. No,” you interrupt him. “Don’t start that. You did amazing, Tokoyami.” You pull him into a tight hug with one arm, nails digging into his back and tears pricking your eyes. “Thank you, thank you so much for saving him. Thank you for keeping him alive.”

Toyokyami slowly wraps his arms around you, squeezing tightly and sniffling. Dark shadow pops out from under his cloak and wraps around the two of you. You hold each other like that for a while, letting the moment soak in.

When you finally release Tokoyami, you’ve both got tears in your eyes. He hands you a handkerchief and you gratefully use it to wipe your eyes.

A sudden roar shakes the air and ground, reminding you of your situation. You both look in the direction of it and grimace. The fight’s not over.

Tokoyami turns back to you, face serious once more. “Can you watch over Hawks? I’m gonna go see what I can do to help.”

“No,” you say firmly. “Tokoyami, you’re exhausted. Dark Shadow’s lost most of his strength too.” He seems unconvinced, so you keep going. “If you push your limits, you’ll get yourself or someone else killed.”

He hesitates, brow furrowing.

You sigh. “Look, I got Hawks. Just...stay here and get some rest, ok?”

Even with his quirk, he’s still just a kid. His biggest concern should be studying for a test or figuring out where to eat for supper. Not worrying about society falling apart or having to die on the battlefield.

“Ok…” Tokoyami relents. “I will.”

He heads off into one of the tents, supposedly to get a bit of rest in the dark.

In your arms, Hawks twitches in his unconscious slumber. Your attention turns back to him and you rub a hand over his hair, shushing him.

“It’s alright,” you coo. “I’m here.”

He’s still so young, and yet, he’s already had to decide between his life and the life of others.

Slow small tears leak from your eyes. You let them fall, curling around Hawks’ fragile form.

Fuck. You’re feeling so much right now. Both relieved that he’s ok and upset with how much he’s injured.

But more importantly, you’re so glad he’s alive. So, so so glad.

You kiss the crown of his hair. He smells heavily of smoke, and you’re heart breaks at the thought of how painful his fight must have been, how scared he must have been.

“I’ve got you,” you whisper, clutching him tightly “I’ve got you and I’m not letting you go.”

You don’t know what Hawks’ future will hold. You don’t know how hard his recovery will be. You don’t know what will happen when he wakes up to his entire life being shattered before his very eyes. You don’t know if he’ll have the strength to piece the broken shards of it back together.

You don’t know what will happen. But for now, you hold him close, staying by his side until he does open his eyes.

#hi i live in a constant state of suffering #i just want to hold hawks is that too much to ask for #hawks #bnha #hawks x reader #hawks x y/n #hawks x you #keigo takami #takami keigo x reader #hawks/ reader #self interest #bnha x reader #bnha imagine #hawks imagine #bnha manga spoilers #mha manga spoilers #my writing

109 notes · View notes

jawritter · 3 years

Text

His Old Ghost

Created For: @spndarkbingo

Summary: Some things from the past just never really want to let go, do they?

Square Field: Mobster AU

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader x John Winchester

Word Count: 1672

Warnings: Heavy Trigger warning!! Suicidal!Dean, heavy suicidal ideals and implications as well as prompts, control, manipulation, talk of death past and present, depression, language, angst, I think that’s it. Sorry if I missed something.

Beta’d by @deanwanddamons! <3

A/N: As always please do not copy my work! Feedback is golden! This is the last fic for this Bingo! Hope you all enjoy!

**Masterlist** ~ **Become A Patreon**

The deep amber brown liquid swirled easily around the tumblr that Dean held tightly in his grip. His gaze was fixed on large rain drops falling against the window that was behind his desk, blurring the lights of the city that seemed to sit miles below his penthouse office on the 51st floor.

Below him were thousands of people, young and old, going about their daily lives, only worried about their own little bubble of problems. Most of them were unable to even see past the cell phone that seemed to captivate their attention as they moved about amongst each other.

With a disgusted snarl on his lips, Dean lifted the tumbler, and downed it in one pull. The burn of the alcohol has stopped affecting him a long time ago. Now it was the only warmth he felt..

“Those people, they’re ungrateful for what we do son,” John’s voice sounded from somewhere in the back corner of the room.

Dean had known he was standing there watching him. When you have lived many years with people trying to kill you, tend to heighten your senses in a way you couldn’t turn off.

“Get out of my head old man,” Dean’s voice drew out unamused. “I couldn’t give a fuck what they want or don’t want, see or don’t see. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Dean could hear John moving closer to the desk, and the wood creaking attop it, as the smell of cigar that seemed to constantly linger around his father, misted with just a hint of some expensive Italian cologne and whiskey let Dean know he’d perched himself on the corner of the desk.

“If it weren’t for us, half of this city would be in ruin. Their businesses would be shut down, their schools and churches would be sitting empty, and they wouldn't even have a roof over most of their heads. Still, look at them down there, walking around without a care in the world, and you’re telling me that doesn’t bother you? Not in the least?”

In truth, it didn’t bother him. He wasn’t mad that most of them were ungrateful, and lived in blissful ignorance.In fact, he envied them. He wished he could walk around in the same happy little bubble they walked and lived in everyday, not knowing what really went on behind closed doors, or the sacrifices other people made at their expense. “It’s just good business,” or so his father always said. Dean was starting to beg to differ.

He hadn’t known when he’d take over his father’s ‘family business’ it would come with so much pain, and heartache or so much death. Now here he was, The Godfather, as it were, but it wasn’t anything like it was in the movies. No, it was darker, and colder, and lonely as the grave he’d seem to keep lowering his friends into.

He thought he could have it all when he was younger. He thought that he could have it all, ruling the city on his throne of control as the people moved about like his little pawns in a game of chess only he could master. He was wrong. So very fucking wrong, and now? Well, now he was just left with the ghost of the past.

“It doesn’t bother me,” Dean said with a slight shrug of his broad shoulders. John’s dark chuckle sounded from behind him as he got up and moved closer to the window, putting a hand on the cold glass as he watched the rain slip down the pane, determined to ignore the old demon that seemed to come and visit him after every failed job.

“Sure is a long way down isn’t?” John’s voice said from directly next to him now, as if he was looking down at the city below him just as Dean was now. “You know, it wouldn’t be hard right? The fall? In fact, it would almost be peaceful. Hell, they say by the time you hit the ground from this height your heart’s already stopped anyway, and you're dead before you even hit the ground. It’s as easy as falling asleep.”

Dean’s jaw clenched as he closed his eyes and fought against the thoughts that were clouding his judgement. “Fuck off,” he growled, but John just laughed in earnest, sending a familiar shiver down Dean’s spine.

“Come Dean, what do you really have to live for anyway?” John taunted, walking around him like a lion stalking down his prey, getting ready to land the deadly pounce that would ultimately destroy the poor, worthless beast that was weaker than he.

“She will never love you Dean, you know that right? First time shit goes sideways, she’s gonna do the same as every other bitch you have ever used to get your dick wet. She’s just there for the money you hand her, and you know it.”

John’s hot breath blew against the back of his neck as the next passing words were made in a whisper against his sweat damp skin.

“But, you had to fuck around and get feelings, didn’t you boy?”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Dean roared, but it only seemed to edge on his torturer even more.

“No! Feelings make you weak, make you vulnerable!” John’s voice sounded louder than his own, and Dean flinched as if he’d raised his hand and struck him.

“I shouldn’t be surprised, you always were too weak. You and your feelings were the reason I’m dead today Dean. Sam would have made a better leader. He was smarter, stronger. You were never even able to protect him.That’s why you let him go off to Stanford, isn’t it Dean, because he’d be safer out of the life.”

Dean’s fist pounded against the glass in a hollow thud, and he gritted his teeth almost painfully, “Sammy deserved better than this. He deserved to get out.”

“Is that what Benny deserved today Dean? Was that round through the heart his way of ‘getting out of the life’.He’s in the ground right now because you sent him on that delivery Dean, he’s dead because of you.”

“I said, fuck off!” Dean growled, but to no avail.

“Do Y/N a favor. Open the drawer where you keep that 45, and end it. A simple shot to the temple and it’s done. She’ll be free of the coward that she’s tided too.”

Dean’s eyes shot to the small drawer at the bottom of his desk, and his pulse quickened.

“That’s it son, do it, end it.” John's voice growled deep in his ear, as one large tear rolled down Dean’s face.

His legs felt weak. His breath was coming in short spurts as a grip tightened around his pounding heart, like a vise in his chest. John’s voice repeated, growing in his ear to “end it, do it now.” the same tone he’d used his whole life to order him around, and Dean had never been able to disobey an order.

Maybe his dad’s ghost was right, and was weak. Maybe you would be better if he just ended it, took the cowards way out of this shit show, and let you move on. He’d make sure to leave you enough money to live comfortably for the rest of your life.You’d be better off if he were dead.

Before he could even move from his spot against the window, two hands, much smaller than the ones that felt as if they were gripping his throat, slipped around his chest, and your scent seemed to push through the fog of self hate and regret that was weighing on him from years past.

“Dean, baby breath, it’s okay,” your voice soothed over him, and he turned to lean into your embrace, thankful that you had come in just in time to once again chase the old ghost away.

“I know, it’s just one of those nights,” Dean murmured into your hair, letting the scent of his favorite shampoo that you always used calm his racing pulse.

“It wasn’t your fault baby. I can see you literally blaming yourself. Benny knew the risk of what he was going to do, he knew that it could go the way it went. You couldn’t have stopped it if you wanted to,” you try to sooth him.

Dean’s eyes flickered to the corner of the room, where a pair of glowing yellow eyes shone like cat eyes in a dark alley, and his father’s face disappeared into the darkness. He was never gone forever. He was always there, always lurking, always haunting, taunting him.

“Come on handsome, let’s get some sleep,” you tell him, grabbing his hand, and leading him from the dark, cold office to the master bedroom were you could keep an eye on him, keep him close to you, and help fight off the old ghost of his past that never seemed to want to let go.

Tonight he’d win against them again, but there would always be a battle, always a struggle with demons that had their hooks in him so deep, that one day they’d drive them to his grave. Tonight though, he’d hide in the safety of your arms, and your warm embrace to get up and do it all over again tomorrow. Until one day, by an enemy or by his own hand, he’d be lowered into the ground, and with a hero’s funeral to cover up a black soul that had more blood on his hands than the devil himself.

As long as he had you, and as long as you were here, he could find his resting place here. This was as close to heaven as he’d ever get, and when he’d died, and they covered him in gold, he’d be able to say he had you, for just a little while. For just a little while, he got to see heaven, and it was all because of you. His hiding place. His sanctuary. A place where his ghost couldn’t find him.

Forever Tags: @deanwanddamons @rvgrsbrns @bi-danvers0 @onethirstyunicorn @i-love-superhero @akshi8278 @lyss-dw79 @magssteenkamp @lemondropirwin @squirrelnotsam @hobby27 @spnbaby-67 @mrsjenniferwinchester @defenderrosetyler @screechingartisancashbailiff @thecreatiivecorner @aflamboyanceofgays @vicmc624 @busy-bee-angel-misska @justanotherwinchester @brilovesdeanwinchester @idksupernatural @lyarr24 @amandamdiehl @love-jackles-37-blog @miraclesoflove @Waywardsistershy @emoryhemsworth @dean-winchesters-gardian-angel @softsebastian @tatted-trina6 @deanmonandnegansbitch @hayleeharling @flamencodiva @coldmuffinbanditshoe @bxbyizzy @dirty-pan-goblin @itmejado @supernatural3002 @teresa-67 @thoughts-and-funnies @hearteyes-j2 @miss-nerd95

88 notes · View notes

weebiewrites · 3 years

Text

Are You Sure We’re Talking About The Same Person? Chapter 6

Read on AO3 here.

Adrien slumped deep into his seat. He felt stares coming at him from all corners of the room. Even Ms. Bustier seemed to occasionally linger on him while she spoke to the class. A concerningly large part of him wanted to make a run for it out the window to escape it all. While gazing longingly at said window, a purple butterfly phased through it into the classroom.

As if his day couldn’t get any worse.

“Look out!” He shouted to the class. He jumped out of his seat, scanning the room. Who was it targeting? By the time he realized it’s trajectory, it was too late.

Rose was suddenly enveloped in an explosion of dark energy, as she transformed into an Akuma.

Akumatized Rose sported a pink skin tone, with even pinker heart-shaped blush on her cheeks. She wore a teal outfit resembling that of a police uniform. A pair of pink, glowing handcuffs hung off her wrist and… she had a gun.

“Stop in the name of Love!” the Akuma said, striking a cute pose and holding up a peace sign. “I am Militia, the Love Police!” She raised her hand to her mouth with a giggle. “Mwah!” She said with a wink. She blew a kiss that materialized into multiple pairs of glowing pink lips, all headed towards-

Adrien’s body moved on it’s own. He tackled Nino out of his seat. A pair of lips made a pink stain on the desk where Nino was sitting, having just missed him. The floating pink kisses hit their other targets with ease. Ivan, Mylene, and Juleka suddenly transformed into their own versions of a pink-skinned police officer.

“My Love Army, go and right the love wrongs of the world and bring together those destined for each other!” Militia shouted. “Starting with…” Militia pulled out her gun and took aim towards the front of the class.

“Chloe! You have rejected the advances of Sabrina for long enough!” A stream of pink smoke flew out the gun and enveloped Chloe and Sabrina. When the smoke cleared, the two emerged, handcuffed to each other with glowing pink handcuffs.

The classroom erupted into chaos, and Adrien suddenly decided it probably wasn’t a good idea to stick around any longer. He hastily sprung to his feet. As he helped Nino up, a Militia-tized Mylene took aim at the two of them. “Adrien and Nino? What a rare pair! Face your destiny and be joined by love!” Adrien yanked Nino, dragging him by the wrist, and made a run for the door. Pink smoke puffed behind them as they burst into the hallway. Marinette and Alya stood in the hall, gaping at the scene. “It’s an Akuma,” Adrien shouted at them. “Run!”

***

Marinette, Adrien, Alya, and Nino all skidded through the halls as pink streams of smoke flew above their heads. Various shouts echoed behind them, both of those victimized by the Akuma and of the Akuma army itself.

“Alya and Marinette?” mused one. “What a wonderful pair!”

“No! Marinette belongs with Adrien, remember?” yelled another.

“Don’t forget about Alya and Nino! They are destined to change the world with their love!”

“The Akuma handcuffs couples together! We need to split up!” Adrien said to the group as they neared a fork in the hallway.

The group split into opposite directions at the end of the hallway, with Marinette pulling Alya behind her just before a puff of smoke intended for Alya and Nino exploded into the wall. Adrien had the same idea, it seemed, and pulled Nino the opposite way.

“They won’t come after us now that we separated from the boys, right?” Marinette said, slightly out of breath from running. “ We just need to find a place to hide!”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Alya replied, gesturing behind them. Marinette looked over her shoulder to see a single figure that looked uncannily like Juleka if she had been dunked in a vat of sickeningly pink paint running after them.

“Love between girls is the sweetest of all!” She shouted after them. “Face your destiny!” Clouds of smoke suddenly flew all around them, obscuring the view ahead of them. Marinette gritted her teeth as she pushed through the smoke, still pulling Alya behind her. Suddenly she was jerked backwards, and Alya’s hand broke away from hers. Marinette skidded to a stop as she turned to see Alya had tripped.

“Alya!” Marinette gasped, rushing back to her side.

“It’s fine, just go!” Alya said. Marinette hesitated for just a second too long, and Alya shoved her away right as a puff of smoke crashed and exploded into her. “Go!” She said.The Akuma laughed behind them, not realizing the smoke had hit only Alya, who now sported a pair of glowing handcuffs. Alya didn’t seem particularly phased. There were certainly worse things an Akuma could do to a civilian, though it would still be disastrous for Marinette. Marinette nodded in gratitude at Alya, and crawled away, covered by the smoke.

Marinette turned a corner and rushed into an empty classroom just as she heard shouts of confusion from pink Juleka. She took a deep breath to collect herself for a moment. She transformed into Ladybug, then dashed back into the action.

***

Adrien needed a place to transform. Unfortunately, Militia had spread, and there were pink faux police officers everywhere he turned. On top of that, it seemed like everyone was going after Adrien, specifically. Nino still followed closely behind him still, so he would need to find a safe place to leave him.

Adrien made a sharp turn away from 3 new clones. Ahead of him was a door to the courtyard. It wasn’t ideal, he would have much preferred to end up closer to the restroom or maybe the locker room, but he figured the open space would give him some room to breathe and come up with a plan.

He was wrong.

Adrien crashed through the door only to find dozens of Akuma victims, handcuffed together, gathered on the lower level of the courtyard. A video was being played on a projector in front of them… a romantic movie. Adrien stifled a shiver. He didn’t have time to be creeped out. Militia’s copies were coming in from behind him and Nino and he had of course caught the attention of the other ones in the courtyard, one of which was the original, Rose.

“Capture Adrien!” She shouted from the lower level. “He must be joined with his true love, Marinette!” Adrien felt a headache coming on. It may have been his lack of sleep, the emotional rollercoaster earlier that morning, or perhaps the absolute absurdity of what was in front of him - but whatever it was, it caused him to sway. His eyes unfocused for a moment, and he wanted nothing more in that moment than to disappear.

“Dude, watch out!”

Adrien was suddenly on the ground. Nino had returned the favor from earlier, tackling him just before a stream of smoke hit him. Adrien mentally cursed at himself for getting distracted. He needed to become Chat as soon as possible.

Militia huffed in anger.

“Don’t get in my way!” She yelled.

In one sweeping movement, she leaped high into the air, flying a good distance above them, and blew a glowing pink kiss downwards. Adrien thought to roll out of the way, but Nino was still on top of him and, unfortunately, still in a daze. Suddenly, Nino was towering over Adrien, transformed into another clone of Militia. Pink did NOT look good on him. Adrien scrambled backwards, but found himself backed up against the railing.

“You must pay for your love crimes, Adrien Agreste!” Pink Nino said, pointing his brightly colored smoke gun squarely at Adrien’s face. Adrien gulped. Despite knowing Nino was under the influence of an Akuma, Adrien couldn’t help but feel like there was a truth to that. Adrien raised his hands in surrender, though he still desperately scanned for a way to escape.

Militia laughed from behind him.

“Yes!” She beamed, “Capture him, so he may know true love!” Militia-ized Nino nodded his head in agreement and moved closer to Adrien. Adrien frantically looked for a way out. At this rate, he wouldn’t be able to help defeat the Akuma. Then, Ladybug would hate him even more than she already did. He couldn’t let her down! He had to -

Zzzzzr.

Adrien’s ears perked at an all too familiar zipping. Ladybug’s yo-yo wrapped itself around Militia-ized Nino’s leg. He yelped as he hit the floor.

“Sorry, but true love can’t be forced!” Ladybug shouted to Militia, who growled in response. Adrien scrambled to his feet, now free from the immediate threat of being handcuffed. He turned to Ladybug, who regarded him with a wink. He blushed.

“Love Police,” Militia shouted from below. The clones around them robotically saluted in a frighteningly quick collective motion. Ladybug jumped, then fell into a defensive stance. “Capture Adrien and capture Ladybug! In the name of love!” Militia shouted from below.

Ladybug was running before Adrien was able to process what was going on. Thankfully, his body moved on it’s own, as it had a tendency to do, and he found himself at Ladybug’s side seconds later. Pink smoke puffed around them, and frankly, Adrien was frankly getting tired of the sight. They ran along the upper level of the courtyard, ducking and dodging streams of pink meant for them. As they rounded the corner, a wall of Love Police formed, having rushed up the stairs from the lower level. Ladybug’s first instinct, it seems, was to run back into the school building, as she headed for a classroom door to her left. Of course, the door burst open seconds before she got there, with more abhorrently pink figures spilling out.

Ladybug suddenly pulled Adrien by the waist, and he nearly died. Well, not really. But he felt like it, as his heart-rate skyrocketed and he became quite dizzy.

“Hold on,” she said. “I’ll get you to a safe hiding place!”

Zzzzzr.

In a blink, the two of them were swinging through the courtyard. In two blinks, Adrien was suddenly blinded by pink. In three blinks, he was tumbling on the ground. Ladybug had not, in fact, gotten him to a safe hiding place. Instead, they landed in the middle of the courtyard, handcuffed together. And Ladybug was on top of him.

It was possible that his day had gotten at least a little better.

#miraculous ladybug fanfic #ml fic #miraculous ladybug #ladrien #fanfic #adrienette #alya cesaire #Nino lahiffe #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #i told you i've been raised from the dead

6 notes · View notes

somepinkthing · 3 years

Text

look at me

I wrote edelclaude and it was initially supposed to be cute but.... um. Anyways, I guess a lot of edelclaude and dimiclaude fics include claude just becoming cool with a lot of stuff very quickly and I just think I wanna see that sweet conflict. So.

VW run but with established edelclaude. Right after the holy tomb.

Might do a series of oneshots depending on how this one does. I love these two idiots.

---

“Your ideals, I can understand. They are not so far removed from my own,” Edelgard told him, telling herself it sounded less like a plea than it felt, “You can join me. Together, we can create the world we want to see.”

Claude shot her a lopsided smile, a flash of white teeth in the dark of the Sealed Forest. There one minute, gone the next. It seemed even the unflappable Claude von Riegan couldn’t keep up a smile in these circumstances.

“You just want me to bring teach,” he joked. A flash of annoyance rose up in her. He always was good at that.

“I want you to bring as many allies as you can,” Edelgard shot back, “Including yourself.”

Especially yourself.

Claude turned his eyes to her for the first time since they met up at their secret spot in the forest. Edelgard wasn’t all too sure what she’d been hoping to find. She wasn’t exactly surprised to find Claude, should have known anger would hardly stop her lover from seeking out answers, but she couldn’t say she was expecting a confrontation so soon either. She’d thought... well, she’d rather thought her next meeting with Claude would be at the opposite ends of the battlefield, she’d counted on it. She’d prepared for it.

This? His big green eyes, vulnerable for once with exhaustion and a hint of grief? This was a hurt she had not prepared for.

“El, El, El,” he groaned, “I--You--Why’d you try to kill Lysithea? I thought you two got along.”

Edelgard couldn’t help letting out a scoff in disbelief.

“That’s your first question?”

“You gonna answer it?!”

Edelgard bit back her own snappy response. She’d never actually seen Claude so upset before, not even after Remire. Better to not push her luck if she hoped to make an ally here.

“She’s too dangerous to leave unchecked,” she answered honestly. Lysithea’s power was no secret to Claude, after all. “I have no force that could have matched hers once she managed to get her bearings. So she had to go first.”

“And for that you almost kill--you know what? Fair. Fine. Smart. I, uh, should have expected that from you.”

It sounded like an insult more than a compliment.

“Claude,” Edelgard started carefully, clenching her hands behind her back to keep from reaching out. He wasn’t hers to touch anymore, it seemed.

“Question two,” he cut in, “What’s going to happen now?”

Edelgard bit her lip.

“You already know what happens now.”

Now, it was war. She wouldn’t play into Claude’s games by reliving exactly what she intended to do. He knew, the game was to make her admit it.

“I know how war works, yes. I read your manifesto too, very well done by the way. But what about the students? Are you gonna let them escape or will you cut them down? Your own classmates?”

He asked it so casually, as if she knew the answer. As if she hadn’t agonized over the very same question every day for the past year. Could Ferdinand be convinced to fight for her? Could Yuri be coaxed from Abyss? Could she explain her connection with those monsters to Lysithea in a way that would make her understand? Could she afford to spare Dimitri? Could she leave them an opening? Would it come back to bite her?

Could she allow Claude to live?

“I will not kill anyone who doesn’t stand in my way,” she answered neutrally.

“And what counts as standing in your way?” Claude challenged back. Always challenging, always asking the hard questions.

“Claude,” she hissed, “If it is not your intention to help me, say so. Take a stand for once and declare which side you are on. Mine or hers.”

Claude chuckled.

“El, I’ve heard that question so many times I’m half sick of it. Are you this or that, one or the other? I’ve heard it enough to know there’s always a third option, one that they’d deny you. You know what? Neither side.”

And wasn’t that just classic Claude? Always with the third option, always with the “better way”. As if change could afford to wait for the perfect way to drop into their laps. Did he think she wanted things to be like this?

“Neither isn’t an option!” she yelled out in frustration.

“Neutrality is protected under international law actually, not that anyone in Fodlan seems to know what that is,” he muttered the last half under his breath.

“Claude! Stop playing around!”

“El. I’m dead serious this time.”

She sucked in a breath. Claude let out a sigh. Silence reigned supreme in their secret spot where laughter and lively debate rang out just yesterday. Claude, almost reading her thoughts, turned to look around at their little hidden alcove nostalgically.

“I love you, El. How’s that for a declaration?”

Edelgard wondered if she looked paler. Impossible as it would be, she felt paler. Claude’s words were his best weapon just as Edelgard’s resolve was hers. For all the tea parties spent discussing near mutinous topics, for all the times they snuck away from prying eyes for Claude to teach her odd dances he picked up somewhere she doubted was Fodlan, for all the times they’d sat in this very spot and held each other through their worst nights, Claude had never said those words. He couldn’t afford to. And Edelgard couldn’t afford to hear them.

“Haha, don’t look so sick,” Claude laughed, “I was just joking. Guess I just… wanted to see how you’d react.”

Edelgard knew how to take an out when so obviously presented.

“You shouldn’t joke about things like this. If I was more prone to emotion, I’d slap you.”

“Sorry, sorry, please don’t. You hit hard,” Claude griped.

Yes, she did. She could still remember Claude crumbling and clutching at his left shoulder. She wondered if it was healed now or if he’d somehow escaped from Manuela’s motherly grasp before the blood had even dried. That’d be so like him--Manuela and the professor must be beside themselves.

Manuela…

Byleth…

“Claude…”

“Hm? What’s up, princess?”

If I could afford to stop, I would have considered it for you.

“I need your answer.”

“You never let up, do you?” he scoffed, rolling his eyes almost fondly.

No. Never.

Claude gave in to the silence this time. Plopping himself down onto a log with a huff, he refused to look at her as he answered, head bowed down. It’d be so easy to strike him from this position, so easy to raise her dagger and sink it into the back of his exposed neck… he actually seemed to believe she wouldn’t do it. Why else would he feel safe exposing himself like this?

Well, he’s right isn’t he? You’ve not yet steeled yourself for that. Not yet.

“I won’t get in your way, El. I have no reason to.”

There’s a but in there so loud Edelgard didn’t even need to ask about it. But he wouldn’t abandon his classmates to fire and death and ruin, but he wouldn’t give her the Alliance, but he didn’t want to fight her war.

But he wouldn’t stand by her side.

But she was all alone in this after all.

Edelgard nodded. She’d been ready to lose him from the start. Even if she hadn’t been, what clearer way was there to break up with someone than to bury an axe in their shoulder? This didn’t hurt, it didn’t.

“I see.”

Edelgard turned her back and walked away. Claude never even looked up from the floor.

---

“I’ll finish the job for you,” Claude grit out, nocking an arrow as he spoke.

Edelgard looked at the man aiming the legendary Failnaught at her with fire in his eyes. Her axe lay somewhere in the throne room, flung far from reach. She wouldn’t need it anymore.

She looked at the boy who still wore the bead she’d carved for him all those years ago, wearing his grief in the tremble of his lips. Her own matching bead was ash in the air, burned away like she’d had to burn away all the other pieces of herself.

Edelgard turned her eyes toward him. His gaze never left her.

---

#edelclaude #angst #my writing #edelgard von hresvelg #edelgard #claude von riegan #claude #fe3h #fe16 #fire emblem three houses #my fic #oneshot

49 notes · View notes

khaotic-kitsunes · 4 years

Text

Limitless

Ah, yes, one of my Mirio villain scenarios. I really do love writing him as a villain; it’s so much fun! And hot, definitely hot.

Cheeky Kitsune 🦊💋

You rubbed at your eyes viciously as you ran down the abandoned, pitch black streets of the unfamiliar neighbourhood; you couldn’t believe your luck, or rather, your lack thereof.

It wasn’t fair, to say the least, you shouldn’t be running like this, you shouldn’t have to struggle to breathe as you ran for your life, your chest shouldn’t burn with each panicked breath you took and your legs shouldn’t ache from the heavy footfalls that you knew were necessary if you wanted to get away.

None of this should be happening, except that it was and you were quickly running out of options; the neighbourhood you found yourself in wasn’t familiar, nor was it occupied. It was terrifyingly empty, the street lights constantly flickering and buzzing with the effort of staying on; even the shadows looked like they would swallow you whole if you wandered too close.

You only wished you knew what you had done to deserve this, you didn’t even know why the villain wanted you; all you knew was that he wanted your attention, so much so that he was willing to chase you down.

“You have to get tired eventually, (Name)! You can’t run forever!”

His words were calmer than you liked, his voice steady with a confidence you wish you could mimic; he didn’t even sound tired, instead amused at your seemingly futile efforts at escaping him.

It wasn’t fair. It just wasn’t fair.

Why did you have to be the one to go through all this? It didn’t make sense, even thinking about it hurt your head; what did you ever do to deserve such shitty luck?

You let out a yelp of pain, face-planting the solid, unforgiving concrete beneath you, your legs finally giving out, your muscles screaming in protest at the sudden over-usage; it left you far too vulnerable.

“Ahh, there you are. Didn’t get very far, did you? That’s okay, you can rest now.”

Mirio chuckled deeply as he slowed to a jog, his breathing slow and even; completely unbothered by the chase. If anything, he enjoyed it. You were so cute, trying to escape him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Mirio hummed faintly as he stepped into the modest room that you resided in, thick ropes tied around your wrists so that you couldn’t escape the place he had so carefully prepared for you; no, that wouldn’t do at all, your escape was not in his plans.

“Glaring at me won’t help” He remarked, chuckling at the way you squirmed, your efforts at loosening the ropes around your wrists more amusing than it probably should be; though he didn’t care all too much. It wasn’t important.

“What do you want with me!?” You tried to sound intimidating, grimacing the moment you heard the panicked whine that came through your voice; you were pathetic and you both knew it.

“You can stop it” He paused, grabbing a nearby chair and pulling it over to your still squirming form, taking a seat before allowing a lazy, almost carefree grin to tug at his lips; still unbothered by your attempts at freedom.

“Acting all tough, running from me…it was cute, at first. I’m a bit bored of it now though” He muttered out, reaching out to grab your cheeks, forcing you to make eye-contact with him; your entire body instinctively going completely still, you even stopped breathing.

You just sat there, staring at him and holding your breath, waiting for his next words.

“That’s better…you know, I’ve seen you around. Watched you, even…you’re almost everything I could want in a woman.”

His face twisted into a grimace while he squeezed your cheeks, a quiet yet obvious sound of disgust escaping him; you weren’t entirely sure what was going on, but it was starting to look like he didn’t want you dead. Yet.

“Except, that one, tiny annoying little detail” Mirio grit his teeth, spitting out the word ‘detail’ before releasing you, the relief of being out of his hold allowing you to take deep breaths, gulping in the air that you had deprived yourself of.

Mirio stood up slowly, moving to walk behind you, one hand tangling into your hair while he leaned down to press his lips against your cheek, the grin stretching across his lips once more; the beginnings of a foul mood vanishing almost as quickly as it had appeared.

“That’s okay though, you’ll see. Soon, you’ll see…you’ll understand that my views aren’t so bad” Mirio tugged at your hair lightly as he spoke before releasing you entirely, even moving to untie you; a cheerful air about him.

“Ah, right. Before you try it, you’ll be watched while you’re here with us. Which means no escaping…that won’t be a problem, will it?”

You opened your mouth to say something, anything to protest his treatment, but when your eyes met his; all your words disappeared and you were left unable to do anything except nod your head in agreement.

It wasn’t ideal, but it might just keep you alive. At least, that’s what you were going to go with. It had nothing to do with the strange shiver that had run down your spine just from looking into his deeply coloured orbs.

No, that couldn’t possibly be it. You were a hostage; it was that simple.

“Good. You’ll spend some time with us, if I think I can trust you, I’ll let you go home.”

He paused, standing back up to his full height before brushing his fingertips over your cheek, an almost longing look flashing through his eyes; though you were probably just seeing things.

“Give me a chance, (Name). I don’t want to make you fear me, I want you to understand me…but if I have to, I will break you of that fiery spirit I love so much.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Mirio in there, Tamaki?”

Tamaki didn’t bother looking up at you as you walked into the base, instead merely nodding his head in confirmation while he continued fiddling around with the dead butterflies in front of him, getting ready to add them to his collection; you never would understand his obsession with them but Mirio had told you just to leave it alone countless times.

It was a harmless hobby to pass the time.

“He’s angry, wouldn’t bug him”

You ignored Tamaki as you walked off towards the room Mirio frequented most, you had seen Mirio mad before; back when he had kidnapped you, during one of your many attempts at escaping.

Back before you understood what it was he stood for. Before the so-called justice of the world had screwed you over and even though it had only been six short months since you had first arrived here, you knew you could trust your safety to Mirio over the rest of the world any day.

“What?!”

You raised an eyebrow as you stepped into the room, quietly shutting the door behind you while Mirio kept his back to you, the room in utter shambles; everything was thrown out of its place and it left you thankful that you weren’t the poor bastard that would have to clean it up.

“Mirio…?” You tilted your head, watching him as his broad shoulders slumped, the anger visibly leaving him while he turned to face you, eyes still burning with an unknown anger; an unexplained fury.

You would be lying if you said it didn’t make you crave his touch.

“(Name)…”

Before you could say anything, Mirio had crossed the room, slamming your body up against the door while his lips crashed against yours, rough and demanding; just how you liked it, just how you liked him.

No words were exchanged as your hands roamed each other’s bodies, stripping away clothing until you were naked and pressed up against one another, his larger body keeping you pinned in place effortlessly.

“There were reports, on T.V. that you were captured” He pulled his head away as he spoke, busying himself by trailing harsh bites down your neck and towards your chest, making you gasp out softly in response to the rough treatment. Though you loved every moment of it, your hands going to his well-muscled back so that you could pull him closer, craving more of his touch.

“I was…they were naïve”

You whimpered out his name as he lifted you up against the door, burying his dick inside of your hot, welcoming body without warning; the sudden onslaught of pleasure leaving you more than a little breathless while he fucked you against the door.

It seemed your answer hadn’t been something he wanted, or maybe he was just over-thinking your answer like he had so many times before.

“Just a smile, then they were dead” You laughed, moaning loudly when his hand closed around the base of your neck, his other hand on your hip, keeping you steady against the door while he fucked you with a roughness you hadn’t seen before.

“What’s that? You killing heroes for me now?”

He grinned widely, blue eyes glued to you as you moaned and squirmed in front of him, your eyes rolling back as you allowed the oh-so-addictive pleasure to overcome you; not worrying yourself with the way he choked you.

Mirio would never let you die, not his precious little pet; not after going through so much effort just to show you how he saw the world.

“I was mad before, wondering how many people I’d have to kill to get you back” Mirio paused, eyeing you up hungrily as your body bounced from having him fuck you so hard; he was positive your back would be bruised later on from the force of your body hitting the solid wooden door.

However, bruises could be taken care of and he had more than a couple different ways he could apologise to you if you did end up bruising.

“But knowing you actually killed a hero to get back to me…fuck, I’m going to have to reward you for that baby.”

You whined out softly as his hold on your neck loosened, allowing you to gulp in much needed oxygen, your hips bucking down against him each time he hit your spot; his thrusts only growing more erratic as he began to near his end.

“So tell me, do you want me to give you a nice reward? Or should I just fuck you until you’re unconscious and we call that your reward?” He laughed at the cry of desperation that fell from your lips, your nails dragging over his back harshly until Mirio decided to pin your arms above your head; his hips stuttering to a stop as he buried himself inside of you; shooting his hot cum deep inside of you.

Your own orgasm had you squirming and grinding down against him, desperate to ride out the high that overcame you; his name endlessly spilling from your ravished lips, surely loud enough for the entire building to hear.

“That’s right, tell everyone who you belong to baby…you’ve come so far, you know that right? I’m so proud of you baby girl, my little villainous slut.”

#cheeky kitsune #mirio togata #mirio x reader #bnha x reader #togata mirio #reader x mirio #togata x reader #reader x togata #villain au #villain!mirio #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #scenario #smut #requests

59 notes · View notes