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#it's not like she stuck a knife between his legs and threatened to cut his dick and balls off earlier or anything
revehae · 1 month
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yes please!!! need that monster-based yuta/johnny request again 🥹 also kinda hoping you would make make a fic centered around yuta someday, he kinda fits the type of stories you do because of the strong aura he gives off
tw // implied drugging, kidnapping, knife play, noncon, oral (m receiving)
how you ended up here, in bed with two of (who you thought were) your dearest friends, was way beyond you. but there was no going back. 
not when they were bent on having their way with you. 
you were naked, that was for certain. very, very naked. it was cold in the basement you’d been confined to, for obvious reasons, but that was to say nothing of the heat of their bodies radiating onto yours and johnny’s breath on your neck. all of the hairs on your body were raised. you could have died then, if he really wanted to make that happen, but apparently having a breathing sex  slave was a whole lot better than a dead one. 
“lay back and touch yourself. i want to watch,” was what he’d told you. 
you’d given him a look, almost opening your mouth to protest, but he’d beat you to a word. 
“don’t talk - just spread your legs,” johnny had said with a certain darkness in his eyes that chilled your blood. “yuta over here isn’t opposed to cutting off your tongue. you’d live, but you’d wish you wouldn’t.”
yuta had waved at you from the side, smiling devilishly at you. you were sick to your stomach. you’d trusted him, more than anybody on this planet. he made you think he cared. 
you gazed at him, betrayed. you whispered with hardly any strength, “why?”
“because why not?” yuta scoffed, snickering. “you’re so easy to fool, you know? all it took was a little reverse psychology. tell you to stay at taeyong’s knowing you’ll do the complete opposite, because you don’t listen to anyone but your fucking self. and boom, here we are.”
johnny and yuta shared a laugh at your expense, because apparently this was just some huge fucking joke to them. 
yuta pointed a knife at you and said, “now spread your fucking legs and touch yourself.”
you did as told, because you didn’t really have much options. you stuck a hand between your thighs, rubbing your clit, trying to please them enough that they’d decide against killing you. the worst part was that you’d started to become somewhat aroused, which was the last thing that you wanted. you fought back moans, not wanting to give them too much satisfaction. 
“that’s it. that’s a good girl,” yuta crooned, like you were some fucking animal. 
eventually though, his self-restraint dissipated watching you touch yourself for them, and that was how you winded up here - with him hanging over you, his dick teasing your hole, and a knife to your throat. 
“scream and you’ll never make a sound again,” he threatened, pressing the knife ever so slightly against your skin while looking into your teary eyes. 
then, he thrusted into you, making you bite back a noise. 
“i’ll make sure she doesn’t scream,” johnny said, sliding up the bed where your head was. he took off his sweats, exposing his hard cock to you, and tapping your cheek with the tip. “open up. i don’t think i have to tell you what happens if you don’t.”
you fought an irritated roll of your eyes and opened your mouth, accepting his cock down your throat. “there you go,” he sang. “and when i cum - swallow. all of it.”
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mazuwii · 2 years
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Chapter 13 || Stolkhom
Reiner x reader
Previous chapter
Authors note: I am so sorry for being so late, this entire year has been about my collapsing sanity all because of my stupid art. And genuinely, this has helped me take a break from it. Even though it’s the last. Again, it is unedited and I’m sorry if it’s not good but I’ll get to it. Thank you for supporting me! I really appreciate all of you
Warnings: violence
Lunging at the man threatening him with a knife, Zeke tossed it out of his hold and managed to land a punch against his jaw, in hopes of knocking him out. His previous training days should be paying off but today, he was abnormally shaky and fragile. Would he make it out alive? Would Pieck hate him for dying on her-
He cut his thoughts out a bit too late as a fist collided against the side of his head, causing him to collide against the counter and slide off the horrifying dent he left.
Even though his vision blurs for a short while, Zeke tossed himself away from the direction of the incoming knife, grabbing the wrist and twisting it. The man shrieked, triggering the other to charge toward the blond with his iron knuckles.
"Stop fucking around Jeagar, one hit and it's over for you!"
Suddenly all his fears cornered him the instant his neck caged in between the bigger man's bicep and forearm. No matter how hard he scratched and pried at his arm, it wouldn't even jerk. If he didn't move, the other man would stab him, right into his open torso. There seemed to be only one way out.
Although a trick so dirty, Zeke swung his leg up against his groin. The knife dropped to the cold floor as the man's voice did, kneeling in agony.
The former didn't seem to like that. Suddenly snatching a fistful of Zeke's hair, he yanked his head back before pounding it against the table. Zeke collapsed with a bloody nose, in pain but conscious enough to notice the sharp weapon had fallen precisely by his side.
Before the military officer could finish the job off with one last blow to Zeke's head, the bearded man punctured his chest, now straddling his limp body with the bloody knife in hand. He swiftly jabbed another two holes to ensure his death.
However, the end of his worries was far from near. A growl that hadn't alerted him due to his dizziness pulled him out of his daze too late.
Even in such a state, Zeke refused to give the knife up. The two men toppled over the other in a wrestle that would determine who would finally win. Zeke wasn't looking so lucky. He was in such a state of shock that all he could do was shakily grunt. The look of horror engraved into the dead man's face stuck to the front of his mind. He had never killed someone so up close.
When his physical strength proved worthless, Zeke shoved the man off and attempted to reach for the knife cabinet on the other side of the room, however his frailty resulted in the other man thrusting him against the hard table. It didn't budge, not even against Zeke's aching hip.
He snatched Zeke's collar before puncturing his torso. He didn't have enough strength to yell, all he could do was weakly moan and scan for the knife with his wavering vision.
Just as he was about to aim for another stab, a huge pan collided against the back of his head, shocking Zeke when he had collapsed out of the way to reveal his fiance standing there, mortified at the sight of the injured man.
"Didn't I... tell you to run a-away?"
"We can't talk about this now!" She snatched the towel from the counter and ripped it into a nicely sized shred. "We have to get you help! Fast!"
After tying the shreds of fabric tight around his wound, she wrapped an arm around his waist and slung his arm over her shoulder, bearing a majority of his weight.
≈≈≈
Both adults bathed after making love. And although it may have been far off into the middle of the night, they decided to leave sleep to go make princess cookies. Reiner was cutting out heart shapes and Y/n was slicing them into the shapes of crowns.
The small tap of movement caught her attention, making its way to the sleeping dog. "Look at that little cutie pie..." Her powdered finger pointed to the comfy small bed in the corner of the room, their fluffy baby curled in the midst of all the fuzz.
"He's just earning back that energy from terrorising us all day." Reiner joked, sporting a wholesome smile.
"Yeah well, his harassment is appreciated." His wife giggled under her breath. "Hey, look." She nudged him closer, "I made a cookie man."
His bronze eyes wandered around the funny shape she made, on the baking tray and ready to go in. "We'll see how he turns out." He pecked her forehead.
While they waited for the cookies to bake the two were sharing a book, huddled together in a blanket. The pages seemed useless since they trailed off to chatting away at Christmas, making small plans and connections to what they could do. "No Reiner." She laughed, "You can't cut the Christmas tree."
"What?" He whined, "But then how"-
"We'll buy a fake one. Don't worry, I'm sure we'll have a car by then... It'll be so fun." She ruffled his hair, her smile fading into a scornful look aimed into the open space. "... every last Christmas was ruined by those shit stains."
Reiner's eyes softened at her huff of defeat, his hand going to her head and gently rocking it back and forth to tease her. "That's all in the past, you're safe now."
She latched onto his wrist to stop him from tilting her head like a little playball, darting an accusatory glare at him. "Me? You were the victim of those rats, if only I could pull a pied piper on them."
He snickered, "And what? Lead their children into a cave?"
"No, I'd lead them into a cave and- and I'll sentence them to an eternity of having an itchy throat!"
"Yeah? That's the worse punishment you could think of?" Reiner burst out hysterically as she began listing more. Her finger poking at him only made it worse.
He dipped back against the couch, making her tower over him. "Why are you laughing!? I'm being genuine!"
"Sorry..." He calmed down, wiping at his eyes. The warmth of his hands planted against her waist. "You're just too cute."
"I'm trying to be protective here. At least pretend to feel protected."
"I don't have to pretend." He lowered her onto him, hoping to kiss her at least once. Alas, the oven had to interrupt the moment. A smile lit up her face as it cocked towards the direction of the noise, "Get up! Get up! We can decorate the cookies now!" She hopped off after giving him a hard peck on his lips.
Smiling at the ecstatic woman, he wordlessly followed.
Everything came out looking fine, maybe a bit wonky but nothing that would ruin the planned decorations.
The couple prepared coloured icing beforehand and so took right off to it once they cooled down from the heat.
Yet even during such a calm moment, somewhere, a catastrophic one plays out. 
"AUNTIE PIECK!" Out of all the horrific things occurring in the car, the last thing Pieck needed was Mihai's blood-curdling screams. This had been going on ever since she sped off from their abandoned house. The little boy was strapped in the back, eyes as wide as saucers shot towards the dying man beside him. 
"HE'S NOT WAKING UP! UNCLE ZEKE ISN'T WAKING UP!" He sobbed, "AUNTIE PIECK! YOU HAVE TO DO SOMETHING!" Although intentions were pure, his constant crying caused the poor woman to grip onto the wheel, her sense of direction barely clinging to her mind. She was driving at a speed no sane person would- especially at a time like this.
"Mihai, calm down... please..." He could barely hear her over his high pitched squeals. The blond man had been long gone since he entered the car, Pieck hoped he was just napping- or had fallen asleep. It wasn't weird for him to do that, especially in dire moments, Zeke had a reputation for falling asleep anywhere, no matter how loud, cold, or uncomfortable.
However, the hinted ideas of death haunted her mind the more she stared at him through the rearview mirror. His bloodied palm was limp on his lap, far from the dampened cloth that was once holding the blood in. Zeke's head tilted back, slightly nudging only when the car curved directions, or hit a bump.
Through all this, his chest mildly heaved. Maybe his breaths were weak, but it was still something.
"Reiner look." She called without moving her attention away from the cookie. "Hm?" He leaned over, finding the tan cookie with a full head of blond, brown dots for eyes and a smile. "I made a little Reiner."
"You forgot one thing." 
Y/n hummed in confusion, observing as he bought a bag of white icing to the tray and began carefully outlining something. She patiently waited for him to finish, the patient woman trusted him, as long as he wasn't touching the beautiful face she created.
"Here, now it's done." Once revealed, she was met with a badly drawn six-pack.
"Confident, aren't we?" She scoffed.
"Oh come on, don't you think"-
Her hand shot up. His words rapidly came to a halt in response. "Reiner... hear that?"
"What?" He whispered.
"There's a car at the front." She rushed to the closed curtains to take a peak through the open creaks, only to gasp.
"Hey, dove, you okay?"-
"That's Zeke and Pieck!" Y/n wasted no time in sprinting off to the front door, leaving Reiner dumbfounded. He shook his confusion off and hastily followed after her trail.
The car door flew open to a hysteric Pieck. Instead of greeting Y/n as she usually would, she frantically stumbled to the back door, where she snatched Mihai out of his seat the second she had undone his seatbelt. Y/n jogged to the panicked woman, in hopes of figuring out what was going on with her. 
"You- uh- I! Have to go to the hospital, take Mihai!" She dumped the shrieking boy into Y/n's arms.
"Wait, Pieck! What's wrong?!"
"Zeke was stabbed!" 
"What?!"
Before she could duck back into the car, Y/n latched onto her wrist and yanked her back. "I'm driving you there, stay with Zeke, I know a faster route so... Just gimme a sec..." She cautiously ran to her husband and gently held out their son to him. "I won't be gone for too long-" The blond engulfed his crying child, cupping the back of his head and muffling his screeches of sorrow. His gaze never left his frantic wife, who snatched her coat from the hanger beside him.
"Rein, if anyone comes, close the attic curtains so I know someone's gone in there."
He nodded obediently, not having the chance to add anything else as she had raced into the car and started it in a rush. Even through the dark of night, he could spot her determined eyes trained on his, as if reassuring him. Right before she pulled out and left. 
"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" Reiner gently kicked the front door closed. A swarm of warm air engulfed the sobbing child once he was carried inside. "Uncle Zeke- he!" Mihai choked, "He's dying!"
Although very much clueless as to what happened, Reiner could understand to some extent that this may have been a military matter. Were they searching for him and figured Pieck and Zeke have an idea of his whereabouts. But how would they figure out that he's actually alive? After all, Y/n did mention that the doctor helped spread the word that he died. 
"You know your mommy and aunt Pieck would never allow that to happen," Reiner said. He took the little blond to the sofa and swaddled him in a fluffy blanket, returning him on to his lap. Where Mihai cuddled against his torso. Slowly, his crying reduced into occasional sniffles. "Really?"
"Of course, they're both very smart women."
"Pa..." He whimpered, "I was so scared."
“You’re safe now baby,” he kissed his head. His larger hand rubbing comfortably at the boys back. Mihai yawned in response. Having his sleep interrupted and witnessing terror unsurprisingly sucked out all of his energy.
“Now you just go back to sleep, kay? I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“Mmkay… night…pa.”
By the time Zeke had been taken in, the two were reassured he would be okay by the doctor. He hadn’t lost too much blood, thankfully since the knife missed any vital areas.
Y/n went to go rest by Pieck’s side outside the operating room, being her shoulder to sleep on.
Neither really knew how long they had slept for but by the looks of it, only an hour passed.
That didn’t phase either of them, in fact they linked arms, accidentally drifting back into unconsciousness on each other.
Pieck was content, okay with the fact that they gave up their hometown for this. Now they could change who they were and start new lives, maybe even start a family… even with worrying about when the military may find them. Who knows, would they leave them be? Or hunt them down again?
Whatever it was, she knew she’d keep running, the same with Y/n. Of course.
Later on the doctor woke the two women up to break the news that he was alright. Pieck was allowed to go into the room with Zeke, to finally reassure her worries. However, she couldn’t help but feel guilty about poor fatigued Y/n, who got dragged into this mess.
Pieck told her, that it was fine to go home now, and that the two would manage just fine. Y/n understood, she’d just be the third wheel if she stayed now. And even though Pieck offered to drive her home, she declined, saying that the bus was a preference. With that, she took off after sending Zeke her regards.
This time, she caught a cab, knowing it would be far too dangerous for her to travel alone at such a time.
Relief washed over her time and time again today, but it never hit so hard as to when she caught sight of her house, free of any violent signs.
Her aching legs took her to the living room, where neither of them were. Nor the kitchen, where all mess had been cleaned away. She took off upstairs and into her room, where her child and husband lay.
Stretching out her sore muscles. She climbed into bed and joined the two. Only sleeping after kissing each of their cheeks.
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crossbowking · 3 years
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More Than Anything (Part 2)
(Click HERE to read More Than Anything Part 1)
Summary: (Set mid-season 6) The reader’s feelings towards the archer evolve, but a supply run that goes south threatens to destroy it all.
Request: “I’d love to see something w protective Daryl and some angst, maybe set at the start of their time in Alexandria w an established relationship?” - @pulplorrd
A/N: See, you'd think I would've learned after making you guys wait a year and a half for No Way Out Part 2, that I should probably FINISH my stories before actually posting the first part...yet, here we are, one month later lol I'm sorry for the wait but hopefully it's worth it!
Happy reading and let me know what you think :)
xx Jess
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Previously...
But as its grasp slipped away from around Tara’s arm, the walker’s deadweight, in turn, collapsed against you.
You lost your footing and fell backward.
Except the solidity of concrete never rushed up to meet you.
Instead, you were embraced by water, the tarp that’d laid across the motel pool coiling around your body as you sunk deeper and deeper into nothingness.
Now...
When the world ended, you’d accepted the idea of death — your death, specifically.
You knew that one day, your life would undoubtedly end — most likely at the hands of the dead, ripped to pieces, torn to shreds, the way so many others before you had been taken. But you’d always hoped your death would at least mean something — maybe laying your life on the line, sacrificing yourself so the people you loved could survive.
Something noble, something brave.
Not like this.
Before the fall, you’d managed to inhale a sharp breath — though once you’d submerged into the grimy pool water, the coldness, the darkness, the shock of it all, had zapped the air right out of your body. You were becoming increasingly aware of the tightness in your chest, the burning in your lungs as you struggled against the walker pressed against you, its weight sinking you further into the depths of the pool.
Then, the panic set in — your heart pounded against your ribcage, right alongside the immense pressure crushing your lungs. Glimpses of sunlight hung just above you, peeking through parts of the drifting tarp you frantically attempted to push aside. You were completely disoriented, your vision obscured by the murkiness surrounding you, floating specks only visible beneath the shattered light above.
When your back connected against the bottom of the deep end, you managed to wriggle out from under the dead’s listless body — though the tarp remained twisted around your limbs. No matter how hard you fought, how hard you struggled, you couldn’t free yourself from the suffocating material. You could’ve sworn you were caught in a dream, your movements lagging and sluggish as you thrashed beneath the surface.
It felt as though someone had reached their hand directly through the center of your chest, squeezing your insides in a vice-like grip. A tingling sensation crawled down your spine, settling atop your churning stomach as the throbbing behind your ears began to slow.
You were listening to your last heartbeats.
It became unbearable, the water threatening to force its way past your clamped lips, the simple need to breathe. A sharp stab of pain shot through you as the blackness in your vision intensified, pulsing reddish-white around the edges as the fire in your chest consumed you at last.
Then, with nothing else left to do, you inhaled.
You weren’t sure what happened next — everything felt faint and fuzzy and quiet. The darkness that lingered no longer struck fear in you — instead, it was warm, enveloping you in its arms like a long-lost lover. The silence was soothing as you drifted in the emptiness, like careless whispers and forgotten melodies. You were weightless, you were freed, you were everything and nothing all at once.
You were dying.
That you were sure of.
Yet much to your surprise, you weren’t afraid — no, instead…you felt at peace.
But the brevity of calm didn’t last as you were suddenly aware of a vague pressure, though it wasn’t all-consuming nor constant. It was distant at first, a feeling you could’ve easily brushed aside had it not begun to gradually grow in force, in vigor — a steady pounding, coming from the center of your chest, over and over again.
The warmth around you began to splinter, shattering like shards of glass, the fallout piercing your skin as it collapsed around you. The pain was deep and burning and you longed for just a moment ago when all you felt was the sweetness of oblivion. The pressure pounding against your chest increased, becoming the sole thing you could feel, the only thing you could focus on, the unwavering thuds drawing you back from whatever place you’d drifted off to.
In the next moment, you were awake.
Your body flailed, jolting upright, but you’d only managed to get an inch or two off the ground before water began to suddenly spurt from your mouth. Your eyes squeezed shut as you choked on the liquid, every nerve ending in your body red-hot. You were vaguely aware of hands, rough and calloused and familiar, gripping onto your arms and forcing you onto your side, the motion allowing the water leaving your lungs to flow easier.
You gasped a constricted breath, coughing harshly on the exhale, completely and entirely disoriented as to what in the fuck just happened. Your chest tightened as you spit up more water, your throat closing around the sensation as you fought for control of your breathing, the feeling of concrete against the side of your body grounding you.
When your coughs finally died down, the same hands from before grabbed onto your arms, pulling your deadweight upright, maneuvering your limp body as if you were a rag doll. You blinked your bleary eyes open, wincing from the sunlight directly above as you drew in shaky breaths.
And then you saw him.
Daryl knelt in front of you, his ragged breathing mirroring your own, soaking wet from head to toe. Strands of hair stuck against his forehead, droplets of water still dripping from the ends as he stared at you, wide-eyed, his expression a mixture of horror and shock — something you rarely witnessed when it came to the archer.
He was mouthing something — no, he was shouting something — but you couldn’t hear him. You couldn’t hear a damn word he was saying as you sat there, dazed and confused, wondering if what just happened actually happened.
His hold around your arms slipped away, his hands cradling either side of your face instead, tilting your head up and brushing your drenched hair back. He leaned forward a fraction, frantically studying your features, his haunted eyes bouncing back and forth between your own as though making sure you were there — really there.
The silence was becoming a little less resounding, the world around you gradually seeping back, though muffled and dull — but the way Daryl was looking at you, the apprehension in his gaze, shook something loose inside you. Your mouth opened, but no sound came out. You wanted to tell him it was okay — that you were okay — but damn it, why couldn’t you speak?
So instead, you slowly lifted your hands, weakly grasping onto Daryl’s wrists, the small motion all you could muster — you had to let him know you were here. He glanced down at your hands, a small huff of relief escaping him.
But when he looked back up, you noticed the moisture that’d built in the corners of his eyes.
Daryl’s hands slipped behind your head, holding you still as he leaned forward and pressed his forehead gently against yours.
You, on the other hand, silently thanked whatever God or higher power was out there for giving you one more moment like this.
When the archer pulled back, you spotted a red streak smeared across his forehead that hadn’t been there before. Your brow knitted together as he sat back on his haunches. You tried clearing your throat, the sensation burning the rawness that’d spread. “You’re —” you croaked, your voice sounding foreign. “— you’re bleeding, D.”
Daryl’s expression darkened, his jaw clenching as he lowered his gaze and unsheathed his hunting knife. “It ain’t mine,” he rasped, suddenly slicing a long strip of fabric off from the bottom of his dampened shirt and balling it in his fist, ringing out some of the water.
Before you knew what was happening, he was reaching forward, pressing the material gingerly against your forehead and wrapping it behind your head, tying the strip into a knot to keep it in place. You were surprised at the sting of pain you felt, unsure when you managed to cut your head open in the midst of what had happened — everything was still sort of…fuzzy.
The sound of a car door slamming drew your attention. You peeked out of the corner of your eye, spotting Tara jogging towards you, the car you’d driven to the motel running idle in the parking lot.
“They’re coming!” she called out, motioning towards something just behind Daryl.
You craned your neck, attempting to get a look, but before you could, the archer was looping his arms beneath your armpits and hefting you up to your feet. The world tilted unsteadily around you, and had it not been for Daryl’s hold, the ground would’ve surely rushed up to meet you.
“I got ya,” he rasped, slinging one of your arms across his shoulders, his grip snaking around your waist.
Tara appeared at your opposite side, slightly out of breath. “Welcome back, chicka,” she shot you a slightly strained smile before following Daryl’s lead and winding your other arm across her shoulders, keeping you propped upright between them.
You wanted to tell them you were fine, that you were more than capable of walking on your own — but your strength had depleted, your legs shook beneath you, and the shock was beginning to wear off, making all the little aches and pains in your body alarmingly obvious.
Then, you were moving.
They half-dragged, half-carried you across the stretch of concrete, hurrying towards the parking lot where Tara had left the car. You peeked over your shoulder, managing to get a glimpse of what you were leaving behind — the small herd from earlier had been taken down, their bodies splayed out sporadically on the other side of the pool. Some sporting knife wounds, others bullet holes. The pool itself was rippling, the water sloshing back and forth, air bubbles visible at the surface.
Some of the dead had followed you into the water.
Just beyond the pool, you spotted exactly what you were running from — another herd, three times the size of the first one, ambling in from the woods behind the motel, most likely drawn in by gunfire.
When you reached the car, Tara slipped away and jumped into the driver’s seat. Daryl flung open the back door and maneuvered you carefully inside. You grimaced as you inched further into the car, only stopping once your back was pressed up against the opposite door. The archer quickly slid in after you and slammed the door shut, grabbing onto the back of the driver’s seat as Tara peeled out of the parking lot.
The silence that followed rang heavy.
Your heart hammered against your chest, your breaths coming out slightly wheezy, almost like there was still some water left in your lungs. You met Tara’s eyes in the rearview mirror before she focused back on the road — you noticed then that the sleeves of her shirt, up to her elbows, were wet.
She’d helped drag your body out of the pool.
You glanced over at Daryl, the archer’s grip on the driver’s seat white-knuckled as he stared at the back of the headrest. Waves of tension rolled off him, the feeling nearly palpable. But his eyes flickered towards you a moment later, as though he felt you watching him, and some of the rigidity faded.
He wordlessly shuffled closer, grabbing your arm and pulling you away from the door you leaned against. You were too tired and too sore to object, your body slumping against his side as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders — you thought for a brief moment that he was hugging you.
But instead, he wound your seatbelt around your body and locked it in place.
Daryl fell back against the seat beside you with a huff, keeping his gaze focused ahead, staring straight through the windshield. He didn’t look at you again — he remained still, like he was carved from stone. You weren’t even sure he was breathing. His arm just barely grazed the side of yours, but despite whatever hidden turmoil was surely happening inside of him, he made no effort to move away.
He needed time to process what happened — what almost happened.
But so did you.
You shifted, closing the small gap between you and resting your head against his shoulder, ignoring the way he stiffened. The material of his shirt was still damp and smelt like a mixture of chlorine and mildew from the murky pool water, but you couldn’t find it in you to pull away either.
You hadn't realized you’d dozed off until the archer gently shook you awake, the car now parked outside Alexandria’s makeshift infirmary.
You still felt weak and lethargic, but you managed to make your way inside without any help — although Daryl, silent and stoic as ever, remained at your side, his hand hovering over the small of your back.
The infirmary was quiet as Denise checked you over — Tara had gone to update Rick and the others on what happened, as well as distribute the supplies you’d managed to bring home. Daryl, on the other hand, paced — back and forth, like a caged animal, on the opposite side of the room. Almost like part of him desperately wanted to run, but a bigger part of himself needed to be there.
“Are you feeling any nausea? Confusion? Loss of basic motor skills?” Denise suddenly asked, breaking the silence that’d stretched on, looking up from the textbook she was reading from. She’d never dealt with an ‘almost drowning’, but had been able to scrounge up some old medical textbooks for help.
“Uh,” you cleared your throat, shaking your head once. “No. No, nothing like that.”
“Okay, good. Yeah, that’s good…” she murmured, mostly to herself, before flipping to the next page and skimming the stretch of words. “Besides your forehead, any other lacerations?” she looked up at you once more, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.
“I don’t —” you shot Daryl a look, but he was too busy pacing to notice. “I don’t think so,” you shook your head again, your fingertips ghosting over the bandage Denise had patched your head up with.
“Good, good. We’ll want to keep an eye on that in case of infection,” she informed before flipping to the next page, mouthing the text to herself. “Okay, and any soreness?”
You grimaced as you sat up a little straighter. “Just — just right here mostly,” you admitted, motioning towards your center, below your chest.
Denise shut the textbook and placed it on the metal table you sat on top of. “Can you show me?”
Your brow knitted together but you obliged, sliding off the table and grabbing the hem of your shirt. You fought back a wince as you rolled the material up, stopping just below your chest, exposing your skin.
The first thing you noticed was the way the room suddenly stilled — you glanced up, spotting Daryl standing frozen across the way, pacing no longer. But he wasn’t staring at you — he was staring at your midsection, a look in his eyes you’d never seen before.
When you lowered your head, getting a good look at yourself for the first time, you realized exactly what he was seeing.
Bruises. Dark and discolored. Scattered down your sternum and along the center of your ribcage.
Your head snapped up at the sound of the front door slamming shut.
And Daryl was gone.
You tried to ignore the pinprick of tears that grew, the hurt that settled across your chest as you lowered your shirt back in place — but when Denise suddenly reached out and placed her hand on top of yours, patting it softly, your features crumpled.
Everything that happened seemed to catch up to you in that moment — the fear, the shock, what Daryl must’ve felt pulling your unmoving body out of the water. You’d nearly died. What would’ve happened if he hadn’t been able to bring you back? Would he have been the one to put you down when you undoubtedly turned? Or would Tara have done it — the act far too painful for the man you loved to follow through with.
The man you loved.
Denise wrapped her hand around yours, squeezing gently and drawing you back. “Hey, it’s okay,” she soothed.
You quickly swiped at the tears that slipped down your cheeks, huffing a hitched breath. “I know, I’m just —” you glanced up at the front door, hanging onto the foolish hope that it’d swing open once more. “I don’t know,” you finally mumbled, albeit defeatedly.
Denise followed your gaze, scoffing slightly. “Men suck,” she finally shrugged.
You sniffled softly before shaking your head. “Not that one,” you murmured fondly.
Denise squeezed your hand once more, shooting you a sympathetic smile before she pulled away. “It could’ve been worse — most people who have CPR done on them end up with broken ribs or punctured lungs. You, my friend, are one of the lucky ones.”
You inhaled a deep breath, fighting back a wince, the motion stretching your bruised body. “Thank you. For everything.”
Denise nodded before taking off her glasses, using the hem of her shirt to clean the lenses. “Y/N, I don’t mean to overstep my boundaries, but,” she paused, sliding her glasses back on as she regarded you seriously. “You smell like a sewer rat.”
You faltered, completely caught off guard by her statement before remembering that you were still wearing damp, swampy, pool water clothes. Then, despite everything, a laugh slipped past your lips, breaking the tension. You let out a hiss as the movement sent a wave of pain through you. “Ow, fuck, don’t make me laugh,” you bit back another chuckle, lightly swatting her arm.
Denise smiled before motioning towards the door. “Go home, shower, get some rest — Doctor’s orders,” she grinned, turning away and beginning to clean up her workstation.
You thanked her again before hobbling out of the infirmary.
As night drew near, most residents of Alexandria were already in their respective homes — you were grateful for that. You didn’t want to see anyone right now, their worry and endless questions something you were more than happy to put off until tomorrow.
When you made it back to the apartment you and Daryl shared, you were, yet again, fighting back feelings of disappointment — he wasn’t home. You felt a pinprick of worry, but knew he needed time and space to process whatever it was he was feeling.
And when he was ready, you would be too.
You walked through the kitchen, the morning you’d shared earlier feeling like a lifetime ago — the pan he’d used to make eggs, now dry, remained sitting on the counter. The bedroom was untouched, looking exactly how it had this morning, just the way you’d left it. You grabbed a fresh set of clothes before making your way into the master bathroom attached, ignoring the bone-deep tiredness settling over you.
Showering was a good call — the warm water rained down as you scrubbed your body of the muck that clung to you, being extra careful not to get the bandage on your head wet or make any sudden movements. When you were finished cleaning up, you stood beneath the shower head for a few minutes, eyes closed, inhaling the steam around you with deep, calming breaths.
You were okay. You were alive. You were here.
You shut off the water, stepped out of the shower, and dried yourself off, gingerly patting down your chest and around your ribs, before slipping into clean clothes. You wiped away some of the steam that’d collected on the bathroom mirror before hanging up your towel, combing out your knotted hair, and brushing your teeth — the same routine you did every night.
The normalcy was soothing — you were already beginning to feel better, more like yourself. You were ready to put what happened behind you and move forward, sure to never take another day for granted.
But when you opened the bathroom door, ready to curl up in bed and doze off, all of your feelings from earlier came rushing back at the sight of Daryl.
Once again, he’d been pacing the length of the bedroom, only stopping after you’d entered the room, his gaze snapping towards you. He shifted his weight back and forth, opening his mouth before clamping it shut. You could feel his energy, rolling off his body in waves — tense, rigid, wild. He was struggling to say whatever was on his mind, only furthering his evident frustration. He flicked his hair away from his eyes, turning to face you head-on, clearly gathering up the gall to speak.
You took a small step forward. “Daryl —”
“Ya were blue,” he suddenly rasped, a fire in his gaze that wasn’t there before. “Tara was shoutin’ for ya an’ I — when I went in an’ pulled ya out, there wasn’t — I didn’t —” he huffed a breath in frustration, his face tinged red. “God, damn it, Y/N, ya were fuckin’ blue,” he finally growled, chest heaving, hands balled into fists at his side.
His anger wasn’t directed at you, but the situation itself, you knew that. But still, his words — or more so the emotion, the truth hidden behind them — had you recoiling from him, your heart breaking at the thought of what he’d seen, of what had run through his mind when he realized you weren’t breathing.
You couldn’t imagine how scared he must have been.
And that was what was beneath his outburst — not rage, but fear.
But he wasn’t finished with what he needed to say — if anything, he was just getting more and more worked up as he began to frantically pace once more. “This is why — I fuckin’ told ya — I didn’t need ya comin’ out there. I didn’t need ya on that run but ya — ya didn’t listen ta’ me an’ then —”
“I love you.”
Daryl stilled, mid-stride, his gaze widening as if all of the air had been sucked from his lungs.
You felt your face flush, the air between you so thick it could be cut with a knife. You hadn’t meant to say that aloud, but the words just sort of…tumbled out? And now, there they were, hanging between you. Part of you wondered if the archer could hear your heart pounding from where he stood — or maybe it was his heartbeat, synched up to yours.
You sputtered a soft breath, shaking your head in disbelief, trying not to panic because the last thing you wanted was for Daryl to look at you the way he was looking at you after telling him you loved him. “I’m —“ you took a breath, regarding him earnestly. “I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable. And I promise — I promise — you do not have to say it back. Hell, you don’t even have to feel the same way,” you huffed an awkward laugh, but the noise hitched somewhere in your throat, betraying your words. You grew serious once more. “I just — I couldn’t have another night going by without you knowing. Not after what happened today,” you swallowed the lump in your throat, shrugging a shoulder up meekly. “So, I love you — I love you more than anything.”
You weren’t sure what sort of reaction you were expecting from him. But you absolutely refused to acknowledge the tiny part of you that secretly wished he’d swoop you into his arms, pull you close, tell you he loved you too — because that wasn’t Daryl. That wasn’t the type of man he was — and you were okay with that.
Because you hadn’t fallen in love with that type of man.
You’d fallen in love with the man standing shell-shocked in front of you.
You cleared your throat and stepped forward, moving away from the bathroom doorway. “The shower’s all yours,” you murmured, needing to break the uncomfortable silence that carried on.
You sidestepped around his frozen form, ignoring the way your legs shook like jelly beneath you as you made your way towards the bed. You took a seat on the edge of the mattress, keeping your back towards him, staring ahead at the blank wall in front of you instead.
After what felt like forever, the floorboard squeaked beneath the shifting of his weight, his footsteps growing faint as he slowly walked away and entered the bathroom, closing the door shut after him.
You strained your ears, listening for any movement beyond the door he’d disappeared behind — but you heard nothing. It was like you could feel him through the panel of wood between you — you could almost picture him, just standing there, trying to process whatever the hell was going on inside that mind of his.
A moment later, the shower turned on.
And you released the breath you’d been holding.
Exhaustion swept through you, the day’s events wearing you down. You carefully maneuvered yourself into bed, pulling a thin sheet over your body and settling onto your side. Your eyelids grew heavy, the sound of the shower lulling you to sleep despite the strange, sort of freedom your admittance had brought you, the feeling buzzing through your veins.
You didn’t regret your vulnerability — he needed to know he was loved, damn it.
When you heard the shower turn off, you snapped your eyes shut. You listened to the archer move about the bathroom until the door finally creaked open. He seemed to be just standing there, and you could’ve sworn you felt him staring at the back of your head as if he was gauging whether or not you were actually asleep. But a moment later, you heard his footsteps padding across the bedroom before the mattress dipped beneath him.
You held your breath, covers drawn to your chin as Daryl shifted in bed, eventually lying down beside you. Another beat of quiet passed, neither of you moving, nor breathing it seemed.
But then suddenly, you heard him speak, so softly you almost missed it. “I know ya ain’t sleepin’,” he rumbled.
The corner of your mouth quirked up — because of course he knew.
You sighed, shifting gingerly onto your back, the sheet pooling at your waist as you looked over at him. He laid on his side, facing you, propped up on his elbow. He was dressed in clean clothes, his hair still wet from the shower, pushed back out of his face.
He really was rather beautiful.
“Busted,” you smiled, though the archer’s expression remained solemn.
Ever so gently, he reached towards you, his fingertip grazing the material of your shirt, over your ribcage, below your chest, hovering the bruises that lingered. “Does it hurt?” he rasped, the mouth turned downward into a small frown.
You shook your head. “Not really.”
Daryl’s eyes met yours, his expression skeptical and knowing.
You never were a good liar.
“At least you didn’t break a rib?” you offered sheepishly, your lame attempt at a joke falling flat given the current audience.
But when Daryl’s features fell, a flash of what looked like guilt settling over his face, you placed your hand on top of his, resting them against your stomach. “Don’t do that,” you murmured, reading him like a damn book as you rubbed circles with your thumb over the back of his hand.
The archer grumbled something indistinct, staring down at your intertwined hands.
Your grip tightened around his. “I mean it,” you spoke, an edge to your voice, only softening when he looked at you instead. “You saved my life, D — that’s it. You can let go of anything else you’re holding onto.”
Daryl’s lip twitched as he chewed on the inside of his cheek, seemingly mulling over your words.
You were sure he’d hang onto whatever unnecessary guilt he carried — because that was just who he was — but eventually, he nodded once and settled down on his back, staring up at the ceiling. You were too tired to press the subject further so you curled into his side and rested your head against his chest, winding your arm across his midsection. His arm automatically wrapped around you, his fingertips trailing absently up and down your spine, sending shivers through your body.
You weren’t sure how long you laid like that, melting into the warmth he exuded, the steady pounding of his heartbeat easing you to sleep.
You’d nearly faded away when Daryl suddenly spoke.
“Did ya mean it?” he rumbled, the noise vibrating from deep within his chest. “What ya said before?” he grunted, his hand pausing at the small of your back.
You could’ve imagined it, but you almost felt the slight tremble of his fingertips against your skin.
You slowly pushed up onto your elbow, your faces mere inches apart. You searched his uncertain gaze, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Of course I meant it,” you whispered. “Every damn word.”
Daryl’s eyes narrowed, as though not entirely believing what you said could be true.
So you leaned forward, closing the remainder of space between you, and pressed your lips gently against his. He returned the kiss, a quiet desperation growing as one hand came up to cradle the side of your face, his thumb sweeping back and forth across your cheek. You broke away from the kiss, brushing his hair back before meeting his lips once more, settling your hand on his chest, feeling his heart racing beneath your touch.
When you pulled back, you noticed his skin flush, surely mirroring your own. He looked up at you, slightly breathless, a fondness in his gaze that sent your stomach somersaulting. He cleared his throat, the ghost of a smile flickering across his face. “Well, alright,” he finally resigned, accepting your answer to his question.
You snorted a breathy laugh, leaning forward and kissing his cheek before burrowing against him. A soft sigh slipped past your lips as Daryl’s hold tightened around you, as though afraid you’d disappear if he didn’t.
You closed your eyes, reveling in the feeling of contentment, unsure how many more moments like this you, or anyone else for that matter, had left in this kind of cruel and harrowing world.
But for at least tonight, you could be at peace.
“I love you,” you murmured groggily, beginning to sink deeper into unconsciousness.
Right before sleep came, long after Daryl thought you’d drifted away, you heard him whisper three, simple words.
“More than anythin’.”
Then he pulled you closer and the world dimmed.
A/N: Aw...a happy ending! (I figured I owed ya after putting y'all through Honey & Whiskey lol)
P.S. Feedback is incredibly important. I write for my own happiness, but I also write for YOU. So don’t be afraid to shoot me an ask or leave a comment with your thoughts! It truly motivates me and helps move along the writing process. Also, please consider donating to my Tip Jar. Every little bit helps!
P.S.S. I can no longer tag people on this account, so my tag list has been transferred to my side blog @crossbowking2. If you’d like to be added/removed, please let me know!
447 notes · View notes
xmalereader · 3 years
Text
The Boy With The Muzzle
|| TWO ||
|| Masterlist ||
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IM BACK BITCHES 🤪 BACK WITH MORE THOMAS SHELBY!! Also, this fanfic is pretty brutal and DARK so if you do not like dark stuff then please don’t read and move onto something! Thank you.
Summary: Read is an assassin who works on and off with the Shelby family. They do as they please and get get the job done, but the reader doesn’t always follow the rules.
Warnings: Blood, language, brutal gore, slight rape, homophobia, death, male reader, Thomas being an asshole, reader threatens everyone, language barrier, dark theme, angst.
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It has been a year since Thomas has last seen the man in the mask. He’s asked Alfie for information about the mysterious man, but the Jewish man refused to give up any information about him. Thomas has tried countless of times to bribe Alfie, but each time he tried he always failed and was never able to get the information that he needed. After awhile he gave up and decided to continue on with his life, he already and a lot of issues with the Russians and sooner or later, bigger problems will be coming to him. After Thomas dealt with the Russians, he was able to finish off their deal and get his son back, along with the consequences of giving his family up to the coppers. He and Ada were the only Shelbys that were walking free in the streets of Birmingham while his family rotted in prison for months. It took Thomas awhile for him to arrange their release and once they were thrown out of jail the family went their separate ways. Not speaking to each other until a new problem arose in the Shelby family. A much bigger issues than dealing with the Russians.
It was December 28th and it has only been a few days since the Shelby family received the black hand, a warning from the Italians. Thomas was able to gather his family again, reuniting them one last time in order for them to figure out as to why the Italians want them dead.
The Shelby family were gathered back again in the betting shop, all sitting at the table as they waited for Thomas to start speaking.
“I’m guessing you all know why I brought you here?” Asked Thomas as he lit a cigarette, leaning against the betting shop doors as he stares at his family. “Yeah, the fucking Changretta’s sent us the black hand on Christmas Eve the perfect present, huh?” Said Polly as she gave him a glare, still upset about the situation that happened last year between them all. “That’s right Polly.” He huffs out, eyeing his family. “The Changretta’s have sent us all the black hand meaning that they will be coming after us and it won’t be safe.”
“Since when are we ever safe?” Ada added. She was standing by the entry way with her arms crossed over his chest. “You know why they are after you Thomas.” Her gaze turns to Arthur, giving him a death glare as their older brother avoids her deadly stares, already knowing that he is to blame. “Arthur pulled the trigger but he isn’t the only target. We all are.” Thomas pushes himself off the door and steps up. He could feel the tension around the room, he knows that everyone feels uneasy about the Mafia coming after them and slowly picking them off one by one, but right now, all he wants to do is keep his family safe and once they are safe they can all go their separate ways.
“Changretta will come after us, one by one—“ He looks at his brothers and sister. “The plan is to keep everyone separate, not only giving us time to keep hidden but to also give changretta time to search for us.”
“So, we hide like sewer rats?” Polly scoffs as she puts her cigarette out, standing up from her chair as she shakes her head. “Thomas, you’ll only kill us all. We almost died in prison because of you—so why should we trust you again after all that shit you pulled on us?!” She shouts in anger, slamming her hand against the table as the room grows silent.
“I understand your upset Polly, but holding this grudge won’t help us.” He says sternly, his lips going tight as he walks up to her and whispers. “Your grudge will get us all killed.”
This causes Polly to grow silent as she slowly sits back down with her arms crossed, glaring down at her tea as Thomas steps back and turns to the others. “Like I said, stay separated and hidden. In the meantime I’ll find a way to deal with changretta and his men.” With that he ends their meeting and leaves the shop. Stepping outside as he takes out his gun and checks to make sure that he had enough bullets to keep himself protected.
His mind and body were on high alert, any second he could get killed by the Italians so he always has to be prepared for a fight.
“Here is your next assignment.” He looks at the other and takes the letter, cutting it open with his knife he pulls out a picture of his next assignment.
“His name is Luca Changretta, leader of the Italian mafia. He was last spotted heading towards London, he has a few men with him but nothing you can’t handle.” The other speaks as he leans against the wall while the masked man eyes the picture and glanced up at the other. “Why him?”
The other scoffs. “He’s been on my list for months, hard man to find.” He mumbles out, lighting up a cigarette. The masked man chuckles as he slips the picture in his pocket and fixes his tie. “You always make me do your dirty work, how hard is it to put a bullet in someone’s head?”
“Easy, but when a man like him slips through your fingers various times it can be a bit difficult. I trust that you can find him, you hunt in the streets while I take the roofs.” He puffs out some smoke from underneath his own mask. The two figures stood in a dark alleyway, hidden from the public eye as they conversed about their assignments. The two worked together and were both trained assassins. They both wore their masks in order to keep their identities hidden, one wore a muzzle that kept half of his face hidden and only used daggers or knives as his weapon. He never trusted guns, they were too loud and gave off his position and he would rather work fast and quiet, he honestly enjoyed killing his people slow but plainly.
His partner was much fancier, wearing a nice brown three piece suit that covered him well. He also wore a hat that kept his hair hidden from people’s view. It was still noticeable but hard to tell how long it was. Then underneath all that he wore a gas mask that kept his entire face hidden, he was able to move perfectly fine with it on and can see perfectly too since he carries around a sniper strapped around his shoulder. He was one hell of a shot and always had perfect aim and never missed.
The two were dangerous and stuck out like a sore thumb. The two have never seen each others faces and respected that rule, they have also never shared their names and went with code names instead. The two had plenty of names due to small towns and cities already knowing who they were. They were perfect assassins but to the public’s eyes they were consider freaks.
“Very well, I’ll be going after Luca and make sure to take care of your dirty work but in return you do one of my assignments.” He points at the other with a small glare as the older man chuckles, he flicks his cigar away and pulls his mask back on as he steps out of the shadows to finally reveal himself. “Deal.” He simply says as they both nod at each other and go their separate ways.
The hound steps out into the streets and watches as the people go by, some eyeing him nervously while others walk by him quickly in order to avoid an violence. He slips his hand in his pocket and takes out a letter that he had hidden, ripping it open he takes out another picture. “Thomas Shelby.” He remembers the man, remembers who he was and when they met. It’s been almost a year since he’s last seen the man. “Now I know where to start.” He whispers to himself.
Sniper had given him enough information about Luka, telling him that the Italian leader had sent out the black hand to his next targets. Told him that an important family was being targeted but doesn’t quiet know which family. Lucky for hound he was able to figure that out rather quickly, he had his own connections and was able to receive the name of the family. The same family that he helped a year ago.
Y/n moves slowly through town, jumping over a bitch wall as he hides behind a carriage. Glancing over his shoulder to listen in on changretta’s plans. “Fucking Shelby lives up the hill, will get him out of the house and shot him in the head.” One man says as the other two laugh. “What about his wife?” Another asks as they look at each other. Y/n takes the advantage to slide underneath the carriage, gripping the metal that held the wheels as he hides underneath it. “We kill her too, can’t have any witnesses and besides. She’s part of the Shelby family too and like the boss said, every Shelby dies.”
Y/n frowns as the men got their guns ready and walked over to the carriage. He stays quiet as he watched them get prepared, getting the horse ready they hide inside the stacks of hay In order to stay hidden. He grips the metal as the horse begins to pull the carriage out of town and towards the outskirts of the country side. It was a long ride their but he was able to hold his strength for the rest of the ride.
Hearing the sound of a horn causes him to tilt his head back to see a pair of wheels driving towards them, frowning he feels the carriage pull to the side as they allow the car to pass by first. Suddenly, y/n gets a bad feeling that something isn’t right and he needs to act fast. As the carriage pulls up a large house he looks over to see a couple arguing with each other, squinting his eyes he recognizes one of the men. “Micheal Gray.” He whispers out and takes notice that the other must be a Shelby.
Reacting quickly he lets go and falls into his back, rolling out of hiding as the first Italian man takes out his gun, shooting the family members as y/n takes out his blade and slices through his leg. Hearing the man scream in pain as he stabs another blade through the mans throat. Turning around his eyes widen as he quickly ducks away from the gun that is pointed at him, using his leg to swipe underneath the other mans leg, causing him to fall onto his back. Y/n pulls out two blades and stabs them through the mans hands, pinning him down as the man screams in terror.
He moves onto the third who held a submachine gun. He took notice of the chaos and turns towards y/n, but he moved faster. Taking ahold of the mans tie he pulls him off the carriage and drags him into the floor, taking out a smaller blade from his holster that was located on his leg. He uses the mans tie to wrap around his neck, pulling hard enough to cut off his breathing. The man struggles but soon his eyes role to the back of his head as he slowly goes numb. Y/n pants as he tosses the man aside and approaches the other he left pinned down.
Standing over the man he crouches down and points the small knife towards the mans eye. “Where is Luca Changretta?”
The man gives him a death glare. “Vaffanculo!” He spits at him and chuckles darkly. Y/n can only smirk underneath his mask, lowering himself down against the mans chest he grips his face and forces him to hold still. “Questo non farà male.” He says back in Italian as he lowers the blade down against the mans eye socket. The man underneath him kicks and screams as he struggles to get away from y/n but the masked man was stronger as he cuts the Italians eye out.
He takes the eye into his gloved hand and holds it up to the light. “What a beauty.” He puts his blade away and takes out a handkerchief, placing the eye inside as he rolls it up and stuffs it back into his pocket. The man underneath him had died from all the blood lose as he retrieves his knives and steps out from behind the carriage, only to see the Shelby members pointing guns at him.
“Move and I’ll shoot you.”
Y/n grins. “Not very nice to treat the person who saved your lives.” He says, wiping his bloody hands on his own pants. “You must be John Shelby, one of the older brothers.” He adds. “You know me?”
“Everyone knows who you are, John.”
John doesn’t lower his gun as y/n looks over his shoulder to see Michael staring at him with wide eyes. “Micheal Gray—“
“I remember you,” he cuts him off. “Your the man who brought Charlie back to Thomas from the Russians.”
“Yes indeed, how is the boy by the way?” He casually asks, cleaning the blood that was located near his eye and forehead. “Very well.” Was all Michael says as he looks at him up and down. The last time he saw y/n was a year ago but he never had the chance to take in every detail of the mysterious man.
After y/n finished cleaning himself up he lets out a deep sigh. “I didn’t come here to help you, I actually came here to seek out Thomas Shelby. I heard he knows Luca Changretta.”
John scoffs, “Yeah? Here to kill us too?”
Y/n raises a brow. “Actually, no I’m here to kill him.”
618 notes · View notes
citrinesparkles · 3 years
Text
cat.
jason todd, eventually x gender neutral reader. 1,388 words. notes: this is part one of i don't even know how many and i cannot believe how wildly out of hand this got. this was a 500 word idea and it's gonna be at least three parts someone help (thanks to @angelz-dust for being so patient with me and encouraging on this!!! would never have made it out of the drafts without you <3) warnings: danger to kids, mention of a couple arguing, animal illness (spoiler alert: it'll be fine i Promise), a little (lot) different than my usual edit: part two here!
"let me be perfectly clear: if you even think about showing back up here, i will know, and i will make your life a living hell until i finally put you out of your misery. understood?"
"yes! yeah man i get it. understood."
"then i'd get going, if i were you." the man scrambled to his feet and bolted off across the playground, leaving jason to shout after him. "and warn any buddies you might have, too!"
he picked up the discarded knife and pocketed it. he then turned around slowly, hands visibly empty in a careful attempt not to scare the two kids behind him- well, careful not to make it worse, anyway. they, understandably, seemed a little shaken already.
"are you both alright?" he asked softly, slouching just a little to seem as harmless as possible.
probably would have been easier if they hadn't just watched him threaten someone.
the older kid- probably fifteen, if jason had to place a bet- nodded silently before glancing back at the little girl he was still hovering in front of protectively, who was just... staring.
she couldn't have been older than six.
"jazz?" the boy asked, voice tight. "are you hurt?"
he was ignored. "are you superman?"
the question, innocent and earnest and a little timid, made jason laugh. "not quite, kiddo."
she tilted her head like a curious puppy, furrowing her brow. "why are you wearing a jacket?"
jason glanced up at the boy, who seemed comforted by her mini interrogation. good.
talking was a good sign, too, so jason crouched down to meet her at eye level.
"because it gets cold out here!" he said, raising his hands up with a small wiggle of his fingers. "gloves, too."
"well, duh," jazz said with a giggle- a win, jason thought. "no fingerprints."
he nodded. "also helpful."
"and the hat to hide your face!" she said proudly, stepping forward a little to point at his helmet.
"wow, you've got the whole thing figured out, huh?"
"mhm! my friend ricky loves batman and his friends. he talks about batman and nightwing and spoiler and robin and red robin and red hood and batgirl all the time! they hide their faces like you, ricky thinks it's because of bad guys."
"they're kinda cool, huh?"
"nightwing's my favorite," she said firmly, as though it was something she had considered at great length and was fully prepared to defend.
"not red hood?" jason smacked a hand to his chest in mock hurt, shifting back dramatically. "i'm crushed, truly."
"no, ricky says red hood used to be an alien, but then got bored and now he annoys batman for fun instead. that sounds mean."
...well, okay, maybe he did annoy the big guy for fun a little. "that's an interesting theory, all right."
"ricky's got all kinds of theories. he thinks batman's a robot-" jason snorted- "and that nightwing was like pinochle."
"you mean pinocchio," the boy corrected quietly. "pinochle's what gramma plays."
"pinocchio!" she exlaimed, with a "ch" sound in the middle that made jason smile. "a doll that got turned human. that's how he does all the flips and stuff, he's got magic."
"hm, ricky seems like an interesting guy," jason said thoughtfully, making a big show of rubbing the chin of his helmet. "what do y-"
he was cut off by a loud, insistent meow, and jazz gasping even louder before taking off to the bushes.
"w- hey, don't rush off like that!" he said, shooting up off the ground as the boy sighed.
"there's this cat that she's been taking care of," he explained quietly. "the thing's got attitude for days but i think it's sick or something. jasmine's been bringing it little bits of tuna and chicken, but it's not like we can get it to a vet."
jason hummed. "why do you think it's sick?"
"it's thin, with its eyes all watery and sunk."
"might just be malnourished," he muttered.
"she's been trying to find it a home, y'know."
there was a wink-wink-nudge-nudge quality to the kid's voice that did not go unnoticed.
on one hand, it was good to hear something other than fear from him, but on the other... "what part of the tactical armor makes you think i'm an option?"
"the part where you just stuck around to check on us instead of running after that guy."
okay. maybe the quiet thing hadn't been so bad. the cocky 'amateur psychologist' thing was a little grating.
"you the real red hood?" the kid asked suddenly, shaking jason from his internal grumbling.
"what do you think?"
"i think you just saved our lives, and i wanna know who i'm thanking."
jason turned to him with a flourish. "red hood, baby saver extraordinaire. at your service."
"baby- dude, i'm seventeen!"
okay, so he would have lost his bet. "noted. still a baby, trust me."
"what are you under there, twenty something? whatever, grandpa."
jason chuckled, turning back to watch jasmine pet a small cat under one of the yellow lights littering the park. "you did well, looking out for her with that guy. you got a name?"
he scoffed. "would've been better if i'd kicked him between the legs right when he opened his mouth, instead of letting him get started on the whole 'what're you kids doing out so late?' bit," he muttered darkly, pausing for a moment before answering. "my name's jordan."
"well, jordan, what are you guys doing out so late?"
"mom works nights, and the neighbors were fighting. it was loud enough to wake jazz up, and it wasn't the kind of thing she needed to hear. i figured a trip to see her cat would be less awful than hearing them call each other things i wouldn't even call my friends." the breeze picked up, rustling the trees and catching on jason's jacket. "and then the asshole with the knife decided to make a bad night worse."
"is jazz your sister?"
"yeah, she's a good kid," jordan said, fond and warm. "sorry about the whole ricky thing, though. he's obsessed with those vigilante conspiracy videos and tells her all about them at school."
"no, no, it's fine. i can't wait to tell wing about his new origin story, he'll love that."
jasmine suddenly came bounding back towards them, grabbing their hands and yanking them to follow her. "c'mon, you need to meet cat!"
"you call it cat?"
jordan bristled subtly. "is there a problem with that, red?"
"no, no, it's an appropriate name. just making sure." jason waved his spare hand at his head. "helmet makes me hear things sometimes."
jordan opened his mouth, but his sister plowed right over whatever he was going to say, pulling on jason's hand again. "cat, meet... what's your name?"
"red hood."
"you can't be red hood!" she whirled around, indignantly putting her hands on her hips. "there's already a red hood in gotham. besides, you're not even wearing a hood, so it doesn't fit anyway."
jason turned his head to jordan, who was smiling- a good sign, but probably a bad omen for whatever he was about to say. "she's right, man. it's not a hood."
"tough crowd," jason muttered. "uh... then you can call me, uh-"
"bucket!" jasmine suggested happily, tapping his helmet. "because this looks like a bucket."
if there was one thing vigilantism had taught him, it was that sometimes you actually do need to pick your battles. this...
this was not worth fighting.
"sure, fine, whatever. hi, cat, i'm red bucket." he turned away from the kids- both of whom looked entirely too happy about the whole 'bucket' thing, he thought- and crouched down to finally look at the cat.
it did look a little sick, actually.
it was gray, and thin, and-
and now it was headbutting his knee like it was trying to push him over.
"cat likes you!" jazz cheered.
"sure does," jordan said pointedly. "isn't that interesting?"
jason opened his mouth, but his snarky comment died in his throat when the cat settled down right in front of him and blinked slowly up at him with a sweet tilt to its head.
...shit.
just- shit.
he sighed, standing up and looking back to jordan and his stupid, entirely-too-pleased-with-himself grin. "so, jazz," jason grumbled reluctantly, "where does cat live?"
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Text
Wrong Number, Asshole - A Bakugou Katsuki Soulmate AU
All Parts
Part 21:
You were nervous, practically fainting under the pressure as you pulled open the hospital’s front door. The trip to Jaku was fairly easy, only a brief 45 minutes, and in that time you hadn’t managed to calm yourself at all.
You stomach was rolling with nerves- twisting and turning and making you feel so very sick. You tried to reason with yourself, tried to convince yourself to lower your expectations. There was nothing for you to be worried about, here! You hadn’t lied! Or hid anything, or pretended like you were a good person when you maybe weren’t. 
Bakugou did that. He did that and he was the reason your eyes were still puffy and why your head still ached. He had things to apologize for- not you.
So why did it feel like all you wanted to do was throw your arms around him and forget everything and just be happy?
The longer you sat with it, the more you thought you understood. Even if he was bad, even if he did bad things, he was still your soulmate. He was still the other half of you and you were selfish- so, so selfish and you couldn’t make yourself give that up. Couldn’t ever possibly make a strong enough argument for abandoning him. You knew that, even if you didn’t want to admit it. It was why you were even at the hospital after all.
You shook your head, trying to focus on the matter at hand. 
“Hi,” You greeted, hoping your smile seemed genuine to the receptionist. “Bakugou Katsuki, please, room 427.”
She just looked at you funny, tapping at the device in her ear. “Yeah, I got another girl down here asking for Dynamite? Where’s security?”
You heart began seizing, lungs stuttering with panic as she continued to stare you down. After a long fifteen seconds she spoke again.
“Well, isn’t it your lucky day. Apparently, he wants to see you. What a surprise.” She announced un-enthusiastically, handing you a slip of paper. “Take the stairs to the left, all the way up to level 4, and then follow the instructions on the paper.” 
You just nodded in a daze, holding the paper in your shaking fingers and moving towards the stairs. Suddenly, you were even more nervous than before. You pushed open the stair doors, and realized this moment felt bigger than you. Bigger than anything in your entire life. Every singular event and decision had brought you here and the only thing you could do was stare dumbly at the stairs in front of you.
No. You knocked a closed fist gently against your forehead. I’m fine. I’m been waiting forever for this shit. It’s just stupid Bakugou.
You took one step, pulling your shaky legs along with two hands on the guardrail. Another step, only pull. Another step another pull. You were conquering the stairs, and this moment, gaining momentum before you knew it. With feet moving unbidden and sure and careful and climbing, you rise, steps taking you higher and higher until you hit the 4th floor. It’s a maze of hallways from there, a strange puzzle of paintings that all look the same and tiles that are two shades too dark and doctors and people rushing past and shoving, but your feet are steady, one after the other, fast, fast, faster, and you don’t falter. You don’t falter and you walk down another hallway, look at your paper, take a left, walk a little further, look at your paper, take a right, walk further and faster and further and farther, past room 423, past room 424, past room 425, past room 426, turn another corner, rush past a man wheezing in a wheelchair, skid to a stop- room 427. 
You heart hammers in your chest- beating against your ribcage and threatening to burst through your too-thin skin. Your breath shudders, fingers shaking as you push the door- push it open, and wider, and widest, and open.
His face is the very first thing you see. It’s all you can see. All the machines and the hospital bed, all the bandages and the IV’s stuck into his skin- they all fade away. There’s just him and his blonde hair and the way his shoulder’s slope and the defined musculature of his arms. He is real and breathing and solid, and so, so, beautiful. Bakugou’s every breath seems to arrest you, keep you in place and strung tight like a live-wire, electricity running trails of fire through every vein- and his eyes.
His eyes that are darker, deeper, duller- less like raging volcanoes, and more like delicate rubies. They’re red. Red like nothing you’ve ever seen before, and startling and surprising, but it’s not an angry red. Not a violent red. You decide then that Bakugou is a soft, dignified red- he’s hot wax cooling over a sealed envelope, like a slowly healing cut just beginning to fade. 
Something in you slots into place. You feel it in your mind, in your bones, in your chest. You’re not itchy anymore, you’re not searching. There is no puzzle left to solve and your finally have all the pieces to your soul; no longer aching anymore for something you knew you should’ve always had. Your skin is finally yours- no longer loose and ill-fitting and stretched thin saving room for someone you hadn’t met yet. You felt right- finally. Settled for the first time in your entire life, like somehow, you’d always knew you’d end up standing exactly where you were.
You think Bakguou must feel it too. He nods something almost imperceptible, but his face softens. He looks so sure- so confident as he looks at you. Like he always expected you to be exactly who you were. Like some part of him too always somehow knew this was going to happen.
You’re tearing up before you can help it, rushing into the room and to his bedside.  
“What are ya fuckin’ cryin’ for, idiot?” Bakugou huffs, but his voice comes out strained; buried under thick, barely-restrained emotion. “Nothin’ new left to cry about now, stop it.”
“I can’t,” You’re wiping at tears with your sleeve. “After all this time- my whole life- It’s just- you’re- you’re you. ”
“Course I fuckin’ am.” He says. Bakugou then clears his throat, voice becoming much softer. “Always was to you.” 
“I-I know. But it’s just- you’re real.” 
He can’t say it back, you can see it in his pinched face and blushing cheeks, but Bakugou nods. You know he feels the same. 
“It’s- I- I just didn’t think I’d ever be here,” You start, sinking easily into the chair next to his bed. “And after everything I jus-”
“I’m sorry!” His voice interrupts the relative quiet, cutting through like a knife. He nearly screamed his words, and when you look over at him Bakugou won’t meet your eyes. He’s studying the hospital blankets beneath his fingers, folding and clenching them between fingers gone white from the pressure. “I- I mean that. More than fuckin’ anything.” 
“I know.” You say.
The room goes quiet again, and any of the calming completeness you had felt earlier seemed to be fading. Suddenly it’s not just the feeling of finding your soulmate running through you, but the feeling of finding Bakugou. Bakugou who is sitting in front of you, injured and weaker than Dynamite and he doesn’t look like someone who could hurt anything or anyone but then you remember that video- that scream, those eyes. 
“Just- fuckin’ say it already. I can see your face, idiot.” Bakugou’s voice is authoritative but not pushy. Inquisitive but not demanding. “It’s- I know your holding back, so just fuckin’ quit it already, alright?.”
“It’s- I just need to know. You said, on the phone, that it wasn’t you, in the video.” You close your eyes. If you look at him any longer you think you’ll lose your nerve. “If it wasn’t you, who was it?”
“I-” You watch as his face falls, eyebrows pulling together. Then he’s turning red, wringing his fingers together and casting his eyes toward your shoes instead of your face. “Can ya- can I- I just have to think. Give me a second. I have to make sure I get the fuckin’ words right.” 
You nod. Bakugou seems to leave you for a moment, eyes un-focusing and fingers twitching minutely. He suddenly looks up, meeting your eyes.
“It’s- I shouldn’ta said that shit. It was- I did that. Me.” He admits, words tight and strained like they’re hard for him to speak. He’s got a hand pressed to his mouth, head turned sharply to face the window. He refuses to meet your eyes once more. “But- I’m not- I’m tryin’ not to fuckin’ be like that anymore! I’m workin’ on it or whatever. Since then! E-ever since then.” 
“Okay.” You nod. “What happened to the person? In the video?”
Your question seems to upset him, and he throws his hand harshly against the bed. Bakugou breathes- eyebrows pinched together tightly until his shoulders aren’t held together so tensely anymore.
“I told you. I didn’t- everybody always talks about that fuckin’ stupid-ass video but it was only the camera!” He grits his teeth suddenly, sharply inhaling and exhaling until his jaw relaxes once more. His eyes still remain screwed shut. “I meant that. What I said on the phone. The fuckin’ person was fine! Wasn’t fuckin’ hurt. J-just scared.” 
You want to believe him. More than anything you want to believe him, but those eyes you saw were hard to forget. They almost seemed like they belonged to someone else- like they couldn’t possibly have belonged to the same guy who’d called you sunshine and helped you with your anxiety and cleared his schedule every night at exactly 7:00 PM. The Bakugou you had come to know was so far removed from the man in the video- the scary, feral, thoughtless man who seemed to attack someone without just cause.
You closed your eyes for a moment, bringing your hands together in your lap. He said he was trying- he made it very clear that was true with his careful breathing and the way he asked for time to think about his words first. The Bakugou sitting in front of you was not the same man in the video. His eyes weren’t violent erupting volcanoes anymore- they were slowly crystallizing gemstones. Precious, valuable things still slowly changing into something new.
“Okay.” You nod. “I believe you.”
Bakugou cracks open his eyes slowly, looking intensely at you. Something anxious in his eyes melts away, relief filling his features and settling in the barely-there curve of his smile. His shoulders relax and he takes a deep breath and a crackle, a pop and-
“Did you? Was that-” You point at his palms. “Was that your quirk?”
“No! Fuck no, why would you even fuckin’ say that- obviously not, because my quirk is fuckin’ cool not some shitty, embarrassing, tiny-”
“Bakugou.” You interrupt sternly, staring him down. “Honesty, remember?”  
He groans, and flushes. His hand crackles again, something small and dancing just across his palm and Bakugou races to cover it. He then wipes his hands on his hospital gown harshly, turning his entire body toward the window to cover the way he’s still blushing. It doesn’t work though. You see him all the same.
“Yes.” He admits, and he just sounds so defeated, it makes you crack a smile. “But don’t fuckin’ say anything, okay? It’s all your fuckin’ fault, damn woman! Started the first time you called me and I can’t get it to fuckin’ stop no matter what I do it’s-”
“Can I see your hand?”
“H-huh?”
“Your hand,” You reach toward him gently. “I wanna see. Give it.” 
Bakugou doesn’t look at you, just raises his arm and jabs it out toward you. The movement is stunted and awkward, like he can’t control his limbs right, and when you look at him his entire neck has started going red too. He waves his extended hand impatiently, urging you to get on with it.
Slowly, so very slowly, you poke a single finger into the smooth skin of his wrist. Just a feather-light touch. A near-weightless pressure against soft skin.
Pop.
You poke him again.
Pop.
Suddenly embarrassed, you pull both your hands to cover your eyes and blushing cheeks, and begin giggling uncontrollably.
Pop. Pop. Crackle. 
Bakugou moves so brashly that it startles you, and he’s pulling his hand back to him, and curling it into his chest. He’s using his other hand to press into the crackling one, finally smothering the sound of a last few pops sounding off. When you finally peek between your fingers, he’s somehow redder than before. 
He’s adorable and you’re laughing and you can’t stop laughing because he’s shy and embarrassed and so defenseless against you. Every part of you is warm from the top of your head to the burning tips of your toes, your smile spreading so wide that it over takes your entire face. 
“It’s-it’s not fuckin’ funny!” Bakugou shouts. “Stop goddamn laughing, you shitty fuckin’ woman! It’s a good quirk! It’s not fuckin’ funny!” 
“It is.” You agree, gasping to catch your breath. “It’s a very good quirk Bakug-.” 
“K-Katsuki!” He shouts suddenly, interrupting you entirely. He seems surprised at his own outburst, blushing again and smacking his hand against his forehead. He groans. Loudly. “It’s- I- Katsuki. That’s my name.” 
“O-oh. Okay.” You say shakily, heart beginning to race once more. “K-Katsuki, huh?”
Pop. Pop. Pop.
Bakugou screams. Just howls something deep and defeated and animalistic from the bottom of his chest. It fills the room, seemingly taking up all the space, and you could’ve sworn the windows were rattling. You start laughing.
“Fuck! Oh my god! You fucking did this to me, shitty woman! You- you’re- stop fucking laughing!” Bakugou is screaming, arms gesturing wildly. “This isn’t fucking funny! Something is seriously fucking wrong with me! A-and and you don’t even fucking care! You just think it’s funny! I’m fuckin’ broken, fuckin’ suffering, and you’re laughing!”
“It’s- I’m not!” You shakily defend, barely able to complete the words. 
“See now you’re just fuckin’ lyin to me! Goddamn fuckin’ liar for a soulmate!” He’s yelling, hot air and fire and irritation seeping from his lips. “You know, it’s just my fuckin’ luck too, you know! To end up with such a fuckin’ idiot for a soulmate! Who just fuckin’ keeps laughin’ and lookin’ cute an-”
Bakugou screeches. He throws his hands down on the bed, palm up, full-on miniature explosions beginning to spout from his fingertips.
“What the fuck did you do to me? What the fuck- I-I didn’t say that! You didn’t hear anything! Would you quit fuckin’ laughing at me?” 
You just hold your palm up, tears gathering at the corner of your eyes. Bakugou stares at it, burning holes so intensely and brazenly, so utterly focused and enraged that it sends you into further hysterics. It takes you a good five minutes to sober up.
“It’s- I’m not. I’m not laughing at you.” You lean forward in your seat, just a little bit closer to the guardrail of the hospital bed. “You just- you make me happy ‘sall.”
Bakugou gags. Audibly. The sound rips from his chest and up his throat and contorts his face.
“Don’t just fuckin’ say that!”
“What the hell?” You ask incredulously, hands flying wildly. “You literally told me you like me over the phone! Literally yesterday! But now you’ve got a whole ass problem with me saying that you make me happy? What the fuck, angry man?!”
“It’s- I didn’t- fuck!” He shouts, voice raising to cover yours. “Stop makin’ me remember all this embarrassing shit! You’re doing this on fuckin’ purpose! I know you are, shitty woman!” 
“I wouldn’t make you remember it so much it you just fuckin’ owned up to it in the first place, you coward!” You screeched. “If you already said it, and I said I like you, then what’s the big fuckin’ deal, huh?” 
Bakugou suddenly goes quiet, his hands fidgeting with the sheets. He chuckles. “You said you like me. Again. Fuckin’ dork.”
“Oh my god! You’re fucking infuriating! No-no don’t just sit there and fucking grin at me! That’s- stop!” 
And truly, you meant it. You wanted him to stop looking at you like that, stop crinkling up his eyes, and most of all stop smiling because you didn’t think your heart could handle it. Everything about him made your blood boil, and every nerve stand straight on end- but it was good too. So warm and comforting and just funny. 
He was Bakugou and Dynamite and your Soulmate. All in one, awkward, crackling, loud fucking package. 
-//--
ee hav sum fluff ,, as a ~reward~
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wreckofawriter · 3 years
Text
Magnolia Final Part
Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader
Word Count: 3.3k
Warnings: Mentions of blood and death
Summary: idk dude just read the other chapters first or this is gonna make no sense
A/n: I did this instead of studying for my finals, also it could probably use a neither round of editing but I was anxious to post it. And I really don't give a fuck if this is historically inacurate all research done for this was from Pirate of the Caribbean.
Part 1 Part 2
♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~
You considered the stars your friends, their predictability and reserve made them easy to get along with. You had been taught to read their language from your early days of ships and oceans. As a child, you would speak to them, whispering secrets from your bedroom window. Your young nights had been filled with time spent stretching from the top of your magnolia tree to try and grasp their beauty. Even now as you stared up at the heavens you wished to cradle them like priceless jewels, their wonder never faded. But you supposed their mystery is what made them so appealing, everyone wanted something they could never quite reach.
The news of your captured prince had spread like fire in a dry wind, the letters you had sent to Aldir and their neighboring kingdoms throwing many into action. Sirius’s kingdom was large, powerful, and merciless. Some wanted the prince for leverage, many others wanted blood; revenge driving them to empty treasuries and sharpen swords. At first, you had been sitting pretty, letters of bids coming to you at every stop you made. Eventually, prices got too high and kingdoms decided it would be easier to take than to pay.
Ash burned in the back of your throat, you stared at your feet as the second ship that week crumbled into the ocean. Its flames were heavy on your back, reflecting in the greys of the sea. A particularly large crack of the fire made the breath catch in your throat. Your fear of the element had persisted for years filling your nightmares with smoke and screams. 
As the distance between you and the defeated ship lengthened your heart began to calm. The air was thick with moisture, purple clouds bruising the dull sky. The ocean was frothy, waves lapping tirelessly at the sides of your ship.
Your mind felt dizzy, the taste of blood still thick in your mouth. Two more men had been lost in the fight which had taken place just minutes ago. One flung into the ocean and the other struck by a bullet. That was six bodies that you had been forced to dump into the sea the past month. 
You had to get rid of Sirius before more corpses were to be fed to the sharks. This had never been so strikingly obvious before yet, you hesitated. Nails dug into your palms, the voices in your head fighting a clamoring war. Your feelings were illegible, their messy colors smeared together in an uninterpretable painting. So you threw them away, ignoring the throb in your chest and taking a breath. Sirius was to be sold to the highest bidder and that was that. You felt your past’s grip on your throat loosening. There was only one way to get rid of what used to be, you had to kill it. 
   
Sirius had never been so bewildered before. His life had been a book that was written a thousand times over. The prince falls in love, the queen doesn’t approve, the love runs off, the prince finds the love, and then happily ever after. But life wasn’t as sweet nor simple as a children’s story and this may be the first time that he had ever truly realized that. All it took was the prince to be tied in the love’s basement ready to be sold to his death. 
Sirius woke with a start as metal clattered inches from his face. His heart pounded loudly in his ears as his breath slowly returned to his lungs. He stared at the plate which had woken him, it was piled higher than normal with two rolls dropped next to it. He peered up at the giver of this gift.
He recognized the small blonde as the one he had threatened a few weeks before, the fear he had seen in her eyes that moment now replaced with pity, bitter and soft like rotten fruit. 
“I wanna talk.” She said plainly, toeing the plate towards him like a bribe, he supposed that’s exactly what it was. 
Sirius sat up ignoring the hammer of his head. His hair stuck to his cheek, slick with sweat. The woman whose name he never learned dropped to a squat beside him, a small knife held in her hand. His eyes widened as it glinted in the small gas lamp hanging above his head. 
“Relax.” She sighed cutting the rope that tethered his hands behind his back. 
Sirius felt his shoulders groan in protest as they fell forward, his wrists aching and rubbed red. Hot pin pricks filled his fingers as he clenched and unclenched his fists. 
When he looked back up Adrie was now seated in front of him, her legs crossed. She glanced down at the food and then back up at him, “You can eat if you agree to answer some questions.” Her demands were simple. 
He let silence settle for just a moment, “Fine.” After all, what did he have to lose? His dignity? His pride? They had been sleeping with the fishes for ages. 
She pushed the plate towards him, watching him quietly as he began to eat, “You don’t look like much of a prince to me.” She hummed after a moment.
Sirius swallowed, licking his lips, “Does anyone after two weeks locked in the bottom of a ship full of scum?"
Adrie cracked a smile, “I suppose not.” 
She stared at him still, she was lying a bit. Years held prisoner couldn’t erase the royalty he was raised with, it stuck to him like wet stuck to water. Nothing and everything proved him a prince, you could take his crown but you could never take his title.
“How do you know y/n?”
Sirius was startled by the suddenness of the question but not remotely surprised it was asked, “She hasn’t told you?” 
“I wouldn’t be asking if she had,” Adire responded, her tone was blunt. 
He bit into a roll thoughtfully taking his time to chew slowly, she was patient, her blank expression, not faltering.
“I thought you were friends.” He mumbled with a full mouth. 
Her jaw tightened, “Y/n doesn’t speak of her past.”
“So you’ve come to me for information?” Sirius said mild mockery in his voice.
“Obviously.”
He eyed the woman curiously, she was not what he had expected of your right hand man. Sirius smiled loosely, “You sure you wanna disobey Captain’s orders?” 
“Start talking or I take the food and hang you by your ankles.” 
Sirius huffed glancing between her and his food, “Fine, you win.” 
“Good. Tell me everything.” She demanded.
Sirius felt his throat tighten around the potatoes he had swallowed, his mind ached with hazy memories of summer days and speeding hearts, “There isn’t much to tell.” 
“You’re a bad lair.” Adire hummed. 
Sirius sighed, eyes falling to the bright white scars which laced his hands. He wasn’t sure where else to start but the beginning. He told of a loud baker girl who snuck over the walls into his garden and brought him pastries and friendship. He continued with vague details, of growing up together with swords and stars, reliving each moment he shared. 
He felt his words stiffen as he spoke of falling in love with you. Part of him felt like he was talking of someone completely different. Someone who had burnt up with her parents in a small bakery a million miles away. What was left, muffling cries above him, was a shell of that girl her soul replaced with seaweed and smoke. He pushed the thought away, swallowing it with the lump in his throat as he continued to speak of a proposal he regretted and the consequences of disobeying his mother. 
The broken fairytale cut his tongue filling his mouth with a bitter taste. He attempted to wash it down with the rum his listener had brought to him but its flavor was just as bad, it's only redemption was the warmth that filled his stomach.
Adrie looked at him blankly, "I don't blame her for wanting you dead." 
Sirius wished she had stayed silent. 
"But I pity you, you don't deserve death." 
He didn't look up and instead finished his drink, "Your pity means nothing to me." 
She sighed standing to her feet, "I never thought it did." 
When her boots disappeared up the ladder he let his cup drop to the ground, it rolled knocking into his heel as tears dripped from his chin.
By the time you had dropped anchor just off of Haran, the moisture had dropped from the air. Dry winds and clear skies greeted your crew. 
Rowboats were dropped in the water quickly, the sun was setting fast and a night of cheap ale and cheaper women were in the forefront of many a man's heads. 
You were tired, the happiness of your crewmates falling short at your feet. Exhaustion had replaced all anger and sadness you had harbored for the past weeks making your eyes grow dull as the bags beneath them. The satchel burned under your arms had a note you had written agreeing to the Yerith King’s price. You had singed your finger on the wax used to seal the envelope, it still throbbed a bit with the unsteady beat of your heart. You tried not to think about much on your way to land instead filling your head with that faint burn and fog of the setting sun. 
Adrie watched as you played with the diamond strung around your neck, a new piece she had only seen in recent days. She assumed you had taken it from one of the ships which had recently burnt into the sea. The bright stone was so different from the rest of your jewelry she was surprised you wore it all. Obnoxious gems had never been your type.
She was wrong on this thought, large jewels used to be what you would stare at as you passed shop windows, wishing you had the money to clutch one in your hand. They used to be a dream and a wish, now they were just things you stole and sold to the highest bidder.
Sirius had been briefly told of the plans for the evening. Two men whom he had become somewhat accustomed to during his stay had tied him up. The knots were tighter than usual as they were to be gone for the night. In his usual nature, Sirius complained about the ache of his wrists and the cramps in his legs. His grievances went unheard and his company disappeared from sight. The boat was quiet within the hour, nothing but the creak of old boards and calls of gulls far above his head breaking the silence. 
He drifted in and out of sleep for a few hours, time passing in its usual way, slowly. Finally, a clear thought came to Sirius’s head, he had the whole boat to himself. That meant there was no one to stop him from escaping his certain and quickly approaching death. 
Sirius tried to twist his hands out of the rope for what must have been an hour and only resulted in drawing blood from his wrists. Switching tactics he began to slowly shuffle and roll around the cabin he was in, searching for anything that could cut rope. As the sun’s light began to fade his task was growing difficult. Just before he gave in to his exhaustion Sirius found a bent nail sticking about a centimeter out of the ladder that led to the upper deck. The next two hours were spent rubbing his binds against the dull metal until they finally snapped. 
    After a month of being held prisoner, freedom left him stunned. He stumbled up the ladder until he reached the ship’s deck. The warm breeze which washed over him felt like a gift from the gods. A smile stretched his aching cheeks and for the first time in a while Sirius Black let out a genuine laugh. 
He quickly found a small boat which he could lower to the water. He could be miles away before the sun rose and you found his binds cut. Judging by the port you had stopped at he was only a few days' row from neutral lands. There he could gather himself and write for help. He was saved.
Sirius’s glee was cut short as he realized that he was missing one vital thing; you. The only reason he was out here in the first place was for you. He had spent years following rumors across the sea, he had given up his place as king, he had spent hundreds of thousands on supplies. But the truth was even if he hadn’t done all that, even if he had stumbled across you within a week and spent no more than ten doubloons he still wouldn’t leave this ship alive unless you were by his side. 
Sirius cursed, slamming his fist into the deck. His eyes darted around in what felt like panic. He was trapped between your love and his life and while he had chosen the former weeks ago he had no way of securing it. 
In the dark, a glint of light was seen. A crate of liquor stowed next to the captain’s quarters revealed itself to the pale moon. The man's mind buzzed, he realized quickly that he would need to act fast, the hours of the dark he had left must be well used. 
The deal had been easy, one glance at the large gem and you had a buyer offering hundreds. You walked away with 400 doubloons knowing it was worth much more. Not that you cared, you had been hours from chucking the necklace into the sea. 
It was late at night now, the golden light of pubs and brothels spilling onto the gravel road you walked. Your legs still felt weak, they were accustomed to the sway of boats on sloshing waves not the strange sturdiness of the ground. You hadn’t been able to sleep well on land since you had stepped off it, you had always opted for a swinging hammock over a still cot. 
You swung your bag of coins round in circles as you made your way to the beach. The water was smooth save the ripple of waves drawn by the full moon. Sand glistened silver under your boots, the light crash of water on rocks echoing around you. 
You had never intended to spend the full night on land, your crew was well aware of this fact and none would be surprised to find you gone in the morning. You shoved one of your beached row boats back into the water, splashing about ankle deep before leaping into it. 
When you reached your ship, you sensed something was wrong immediately. The small voice which you tended to ignore was screaming in the back of your head. As you climbed onto the deck the strong scent of liquor overwhelmed you. You heard a soft splash and glanced down to look at the puddle you had stepped into. Swiping two fingers through the fluid and plopping them into your mouth you hummed. There was no mistaking the sharp taste of gin. You looked around to find the leak and instead locked eyes with a figure who stood about 20 meters in front of you. 
“Sirius?” You asked though you already knew it was him, you didn’t think you would ever forget his face, even if it was obscured by the shadows of the moon. 
He gapped at you, unsure of what to say.
You took a step closer and caught a glance of the bottle he held in his hand. Its thin neck was stuffed with a piece of cloth, the soft glow of a gas lamp flickering behind him. The second you realized what he had planned your gun was pointed at his chest.
“Drop the bottle Black.” you hissed with a steady voice despite the fact that your gun was rattling in your hands. Your thoughts were now fogged with fear, plagued by smoke and flames.
Sirius had suddenly found his voice, “I know you’re not stupid enough to fire that. One spark and we’ll both go up in flames.”
Your breaths quickened, vision blurring as tears welled in your eyes. “Why are you doing this?” You croaked. “Why do you want to ruin everything I’ve built for myself?”
“I’m not leaving without you y/n.” He shouted, “I can’t live without you. Just come with me. Please. Just come with me and it will all be fine.” 
You shook your head, “No.”
“Please, please! I need you y/n, I can’t go back without you!” He begged, snatching the lamp from behind him, “I won’t be able to live.”
It was in that moment that you understood he was just as desperate as you, just as lost and hopeless. You dropped your gun to your side, tears sliding slowly down your cheeks. Your throat tightened holding back a sob, “Okay.” You said with a broken voice.
Sirius cracked a small smile, “I knew it.” He sighed, “I knew you still loved me.” Setting down the lamp he opened his arms walking towards you. You met him halfway burying your face into his rough jacket.
“God I missed you y/n,” he whispered as you slipped a knife from under your sleeve.
“I’m so sorry Siri.” You mumbled in response before plunging the blade into his back. 
You held him as he collapsed forward, choking back on his own blood. You had begun to sob, hand still clutching the hilt of the blade which was lodged into him. Eventually his weight became too much to bear and you both fell to the ground. Sirius rolled off next to you, his hand still clasped around your own. The two of you started up at the stars listening as his breaths slowed. Just before they stopped completely you felt a small squeeze of your hand and for just a moment you saw the soft pink of a petal floating towards you.
You weren't sure how long you lay there, staring up at the sky but it was long enough for you to finally realize that you were the villain of your story. It was an odd thing to recognize considering in all of the books you had carried as a child you took the place of the protagonist; the one who swung the sword to save the kingdom You had always been the one to end your life with a happily ever after. 
Now you had realized that you had never been a hero. You had spent your life as a villain in the making, each step you had taken leading you closer and closer to your undeniable fate of evil. You had your chance to be the princess trapped in the tower, but you had ignored the prince and now took the shape of a witch. A witch who stole and killed and burned all that she hated. Some had to do it after all, we can’t all be heroes. There is no story without a villain, at least not one worth reading.
As much as the small baker girl who rested amongst the magnolia tree would have hated you, the woman you saw when you looked in the mirror was okay with who you had become. And if she was okay with it, then why did it matter what the past would have thought? You had been running from it for years and now you would never have to again. Because now your past ran from you. 
taglist:
@april-showers-and-flowers @fleurmoon @chaosinparadise @re-zerohora @pregnant-piggy @approved-by-dentists @theweirdobella @fific7 @whitewashedghanianlol @artemis1orion @justmesadgirl @bberree @songforhema @wangmangagavroche @evyiione @atomicpunkrock @fairywriter-oracle @moon-zodiac @secretsofageek @accio-rogers-blog @roslea @k3nz-doodl3 @theseuscmander @sleepingalaska @chloe-geoghegan1 @obsessedwithrandomthings-blog @coldlilheart @suseptiable-bur-siriusexual @inglorious-imagines @the-natureofme @trickylittlewitch @layaa-layaaa @teheharrypotter @sarcasticallywitty15 @rosieweasleyy @dracosgoodgirl @inglourious-imagines
so many of u changed ur urls so if I have the wrong person tagged or the wrong username let me know
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hawksward · 3 years
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Find Me Where the Wisteria Blooms (Giyuu x Reader x Sabito)
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Summary: You were only a child when the demons took everything from you. But in the years you were on the mountain you found friendship.
Only to have it all ripped away again.
Pairing: Sabito/Reader/Giyuu
Rating: PG-13 (specifically for violence)
Word Count: 4k
Warnings: Violence, Character Death, Angst
A/N: Watch me rip out my own heart and stomp on it in 4000 words. Characters have been aged up from 13-15 at the time of final selection (because let's be real why was Urokodaki sending 13-year-olds in the first place.)
Thirteen
“Last again.” The boy with the peach-colored hair taunted, “Guess you don’t have what it takes.”
You would have thrown a rock at his head if you weren’t hunched over with your hands on your knees, struggling to catch your breath.
“Shut up, Sabito.” You heaved “You won’t sound so high and mighty when I’m a hashira.”
Three months had passed since your arrival on the mountain. The morning hikes up the mountain only to race back down again started off like torture considering your background. You had a normal childhood. One cut tragically short after your village was slaughtered by a demon. The screams were still audible every time you closed your eyes to sleep. The sound of the footsteps above the loose floorboard where you hid plagued your dreams.
The sun was high in the sky the next day when Urokodaki came to check for survivors. It was almost ironic to think that you went your whole life not knowing monsters were real, only to find there was a man training students to fight them on a nearby mountain. He pulled you out of the hole in the floor and carried you up the mountain. He let you stay with him weeks before you decided to start training.
You were already a couple of months behind the two boys your age who trained on the mountain. Giyuu and Sabito. Giyuu did everything he could to help you catch up with your swordsmanship. Sabito, however, just continued to tell you about how you weren’t man enough to become a demon slayer.
You never were quite sure if he meant your spirit or your lack of biological parts.
“Leave her alone” Giyuu protested “She was definitely faster that time.”
Were you actually? Who knows. If the mountain exercises were hard, the sword training was harder. Your new skills were nothing compared to either boy. Sabito had already grasped the first two forms of water breathing and Giyuu has mastered the first. Meanwhile, you were lucky to land a strike on either. You ended each day rubbing salve on new welts.
“You are getting better.” Giyuu joined you that evening while you sat outside, rubbing your tired muscles in preparation to do it all again tomorrow “Sabito just doesn’t know how to act around girls.”
“Whatever.” You frowned, “If he tells me I’m not man enough again, I’ll make sure he never will be either.”
A quick, hard sword swing between the legs would take care of that.
Giyuu laughed, “You would have gotten along really well with my sister. She didn’t let anyone walk all over her either.”
“What happened to her?” You asked, already prepared for the answer. No one came to train with Urokodaki because they had a happy home life.
“She sacrificed herself to save me.” He looked down at the ground “She was supposed to be married the next day.”
“Giyuu…” You paused before looking up at him, sliding your hand over his “I’m sure she’d be proud to see you now.”
He looked over at you, his eyes haunted. “I wish it were me instead.”
You pulled your hand away almost as quickly as you placed it there, turning your head to stare back at the night sky “Me too.”
Fourteen
A year passed since you first arrived on the mountain. Tasks that once seemed impossible, you could now do without a second thought. You were faster, stronger. But most importantly, you were a winner.
“Look who doesn’t have what it takes now.” You said, a smug grin plastered on your face. You sat casually on a nearby log when Sabito made it down the mountain. You barely managed to catch your breath as you only made it down a couple of minutes prior. He didn’t need to know that though.
“I bet you still can’t beat me in a fight.” He barely needed a moment to catch his breath while Giyuu appeared.
“Challenge accepted.” You rose from the log to meet him head-on. The fact that he and Giyuu were already so tall was unfair. “I’ll see you at sword training.”
It sounded more dramatic when you said it. After a lunch filled with an intense staring match and Giyuu trying to fill the awkward silence, you found yourself standing in the part of the mountain where you practiced sword drills. The wooden katana felt familiar in your hand. 200 sword swings before you were even able to start practice would do that.
You ignored the fatigue in your arms as you took your stance. Sabito took his position opposite you, Giyuu and Urokodaki standing a safe distance away to observe.
Urokodaki gave the signal to begin and Sabito rushed you immediately. You quick side-stepped to miss the first blow, blocking the second with your sword. It wasn’t a secret that he was physically stronger than you, but you had the advantage of speed now. In the months since your arrival on the mountain, your breathing techniques had improved tremendously. You had the stamina and speed advantage and could wait until he tired himself out. He knew he needed to end the fight quickly.
You backed away while he brought himself back into his stance, widening the gap between you. You rushed him to close the distance, lifting your sword over your head as if you would bring it down on him. Just before your katana would fall on his, you dropped into a slide. Your hands changed grip on the katana, angling it so it caught his ankles as your momentum kept you sliding.
The force of your entire body weight ripped him off his feet and onto his back. You quickly pushed yourself off the ground stood over him, your sword pressing lightly against his neck.
“I win. You have no head.” You suppressed the stupid grin that was threatening to cover your face. The look of shock in his eyes was rewarding enough.
“That trick was dirty.” He complained, staring up at you from the ground. “In a fair fight you would have lost.”
“Demons don’t fight fair.” You said, extending your hand out to him “Why should I?”
“She’s right. There is no such thing as a fair fight with a demon. You need to use every trick you have against them.” Urokodaki gave you a small nod before returning his attention to Sabito.
Sabito reluctantly grabbed your hand, using you as leverage to pull himself off the ground. It was clear that although he accepted your mentor’s judgment that you won the fight, he wasn’t happy about it. He looked down at you for a moment before quickly averting his gaze, his face flushed from what you assumed to be exertion.
“Fine. You won.” He grumbled “But you won’t be able to use the same trick twice. I want a rematch tomorrow.”
“You’re on.” You flashed a large smile, letting go of his hand. “I’m still going to win though.”
“Focus on the present.” Urokodaki scolded, nudging Giyuu to step into the circle “If you don’t keep your focus to the opponent in front of you, you’ll lose.”
“Right.” You nodded, turning to face Giyuu. You assumed your stance while he readied himself, the two of you waiting for the signal to begin.
“Sorry to interrupt your winning streak,” Giyuu said as you waited, “But I don’t intend to lose.”
Both of you leaped into action at the signal, rushing toward each other as your katanas met with a harsh clack.
You lost that fight, but in the end, it didn’t matter. You finally felt like their equal.
Fifteen
Spring came again to the mountain as the weeks counted down until final selection. You trained with Urokodaki for almost two years. You mastered water breathing. You could cut a boulder in half with a thin blade.
You weren’t the scared little girl under the floorboards anymore.
You sat in the forest, using one of the knives you found in the house to carve your initials into the tree. Along with Giyuu and Sabato’s. Something to commemorate your graduation into demon slayers. They had become your best friends. The thought of being apart after final selection was almost painful.
“Urokodaki is going to make you run laps around the mountain until next year if he finds out you’re using the kitchen knife for that.”
You looked up to see Sabito standing behind you, Giyuu laughing beside him.
“Well then don’t tell him” you grumbled, returning to your work “It's not like I can use my sword for this.”
The two boys watched you continue your work, laughing at your uneven lines as you tried to carve Urokodaki’s tengu mask. He gave the three of you hand-carved fox masks for the trial. Each one was designed differently based on personality. Your mask had the left eye covered by wisteria, your favorite flower. Something you were sure you only mentioned to the man once or twice.
By the time you finished, it was already time for dinner. In the last week prior to the trial, Urokodaki had given the three of you the week off from training as both a reward and for time to mentally prepare. Without a clear schedule, you could barely keep track of the time.
You hid the knife in your sleeve as you stood up, you would return it to the drawer when Urokodaki wasn’t paying attention. “When we all become hashira you both better promise to come visit my mansion.”
“There can’t be three water hashira.” Giyuu said, leading the group “Especially when there’s only nine of them in total.”
You stuck your tongue out at the back of his head, causing Sabito to laugh. Giyuu turned around, confused, to see both of you just smiling back.
“Says you. When we finish the trial they’ll be begging to have three water hashira.” You joked. You laughed the rest of the way home, but before you could enter the house you were pulled to the side, out of sight.
You looked up at Sabito, who still had his hand on your arm. “What are you doing?” You whispered harshly, not bothering to pull away.
“When Urokodaki goes to sleep, will you meet me out by the lake?” He asked, staring intensely into your eyes.
“Why, what are we doing?” You smiled, interested at the prospect of doing something Urokodaki wouldn’t approve of “I can pull Giyuu aside when he’s not paying attention…”
“No.” He interrupted, looking away for a brief moment before bringing his attention back to you “Just you. Please say you’ll come.”
You felt the heat rise to your face immediately. The three of you did everything together, not inviting Giyuu was unheard of. “Y-yeah. Of course, I’ll be there.”
————————
You left ample time in between when you heard Sabito leave and when you made your exit. You tiptoed into the night air as quietly as you could manage. The feeling of guilt squeezing your heart for a quick moment as you passed by Giyuu’s sleeping form.
The air was crisp, the sound of crickets chirping filling the air. You grabbed your sword from its spot near the door, you could never be too careful when out at night. The lake wasn’t a far walk from the house, a bit further up the mountain and through a thick of trees.
You found Sabito sitting on a downed tree, watching the moon reflect off the water. You took a seat next to him, watching the water as well. You weren’t sure if you should speak up. You weren’t really sure why he asked you out here without Giyuu either.
“I’m glad you came.” He said, still looking at the water.
“Are you going to tell me why you asked me out here and not Giyuu?” You looked up at him, waiting for him to respond. Or at least look at you.
“I’m sorry for how I treated you when you showed up to the mountain. It was just me and Giyuu for a while and I didn’t want it to change.” He continued to stare out, nervously shifting his weight beneath him. “I just needed to tell you before final selection. In case anything happens.”
“Nothings going to happen” You reassured him “We’re all going to make it off that mountain.”
He turned to face you this time, a serious expression on his face. “We don’t know what kind of demons will be there. I won’t let anything happen to you or Giyuu.”
You studied his face, confused as to where this was all coming from. It went without saying you would all look out for each other during the trial. You would make sure nothing happened to him and Giyuu as well. “We’re friends, Sabito. Giyuu and I are going to look out for you as well.”
“I don’t want to be your friend.” Your look of shock took him by surprise, causing him to rub his temples in frustration “That’s not what I mean.”
You waited as he collected his thoughts, still troubled by him not wanting to be your friend. You knew that your relationship started off rocky, but you thought you were close now.
“I think I love you.” He blurted out, forcing himself to get over the fear of your reaction “I can’t shake the feeling that I want to be around you all the time. Without Giyuu. I hate myself for thinking that your safety is more important than anyone else. You’re one of the strongest people I know...but...I understand if you think I’m not worthy of you.” His fingers went up to touch the scar that trailed from his mouth to his ear.
You grabbed his hand away from his scar, holding it in both of your own. “I would never think that.” Time seemed to stop as you stared into his eyes. Ever since your arrival, he had drawn your eye but considering your relationship you never thought about being anything more than just a friend. You cared for him with all of your heart. You would prioritize his safety over your own. Maybe that was love the whole time?
“In a couple years, when we’re older, I’m going to ask you to marry me. I hope you’ll have an answer by then.”
The heat immediately rushed back to your cheeks, your hand letting go of his to cover your mouth. You were positive that in your shock you looked like a gasping fish.
“When we become hashira.” You began, lowering your hand “I expect you to propose again. So I can say yes.”
The world disappeared when he leaned in and placed his lips softly against yours. The two of you were so absorbed in the moment that neither noticed a presence lurking behind a tree a few yards away. Giyuu heard you get up in the middle of the night only to find Sabito gone as well. Naturally, he grabbed his sword and followed your tracks to see what you were up to without him.
Giyuu left as you both pulled away, he’d heard the whole conversation and knew better than to interrupt now.
——————-
By the second day of final selection, the three of you must have cleared out nearly ⅔ of the demons on the mountain. Each of you equipped with a thin nichirin sword and a mask handcrafted by Urokodaki for protection. Almost all the participants chose to stay together and things were going well. Well enough that for a moment you thought you would all make it off the mountain.
The smell came first. Demons always had a rotting scent to them but this was extreme. Like you were choking on the air. You barely had a chance to react when a group of arms reached out of the darkness. You leaped out of the way, rolling to a stop. Looking up, you saw Sabito using water wheel to cut the limbs from where they grabbed the bodies of the other recruits.
“Giyuu!” You shouted, rushing over to where he was slumped against a tree. He lifted his head up to reveal blood rushing down his face from a head wound, his mask broken on the ground. His eyes were unfocused, but the damage didn’t look extreme. He most likely had a concussion.
“Go, run!” You looked over to see Sabito directing the others, keeping the arms at bay while the smell grew more pungent. “Take the wounded and get out.”
He disappeared into the darkness of the trees, along with the arms.
“You!” You grabbed one of the recruits “Take him with you, please.”
“No.” Giyuu grabbed your arm, bringing your attention to him “I can still fight.”
“You’re not fit to fight anything right now.” You untied the strings of your mask and removed it from your head, placing it into his hands “This will keep you safe. I’m going to expect it back when I find you.”
You gave him a smile while he tried to weakly fight his way out of the grip of the two recruits carrying him off. You turned around and rushed into the dark, trying to keep up concentration breathing despite the overpowering stench.
It didn’t take long to find the source. A horrible, deformed demon covered in arms. It noticed you immediately, keeping its eyes on you while still easily keeping Sabito busy with a flurry of attacks.
“What are you doing here?” Sabito shouted at you, deflecting another arm “Go find the others, I can handle this.”
“I won’t just leave you here.”
“Another meal I don’t have to hunt for, it’s my lucky day!” The demon spoke, hiding its mouth behind a number of hands “Is she one of Urokodakis as well? I don’t see a mask but I suppose if I’m going to eat you anyway it doesn’t matter.”
You drew your sword, slicing one of its hands from its wrist as it surged toward you. You sliced limb after limb as it regenerated, desperately trying to create an opening for Sabito to strike its neck.
“Third form: Flowing Dance!” You steadied your breathing and summoned a torrent of water from your sword, twisting and turning to slice all of the limbs in your path. The quick strikes created an opening for Sabito to leap up, drawing his sword and quickly using all his strength to slice the monster’s neck.
The sound of a loud snap filled the air.
You looked up to see Sabito’s sword snap in two, the monster's neck still intact.
Everything else happened so fast.
You stepped forward to rush the demon, your eyes closing momentarily to blink. Something warm sprayed your face, reminding you of summer rain. When you opened your eyes you saw the demon had regenerated an arm and grabbed Sabito by the head. His body dangling below it.
Unmoving.
Your knees gave out below you as the demon dropped his headless corpse to the ground. Your hand reached up to touch your face, pulling away with a smear of blood covering your palm. Your first thought was that this had to be a nightmare. That you were laying on your futon, sound asleep, restless from the stress of the impending trial.
You don’t know how long you stared. You should have run. If Sabito couldn’t beat it how could you hope to?
“Now that he’s dealt with, I think I’ll eat you first. You’ll taste even better covered in the blood of your friend.” the demon laughed, finally snapping you out of your stupor. You used your sword to push yourself off of your knees, using your sleeve to wipe some of the blood from your face. To wipe him off your face.
“I’m going to send you to hell.” You moved with speed you didn’t know you were capable of, deftly avoiding and deflecting the arms moving toward you. You were possessed by rage. You struggled to keep your breathing in check and you knew you were being reckless. But you couldn’t bring yourself to stop.
You continued to cut through limbs as fast as they could regrow but eventually, your luck ran out. One of the demon’s arms erupted from the ground, sending you flying into the air only to have the wind knocked out of you when you reached the ground.
You lay splayed on the ground, trying to will your body to move as tears streamed down your face. Everything felt numb, your fingertips refusing to move as you tried with all your might to grab your sword. The demon grabbed your neck, lifting you off the ground until you were at eye level.
“You get to be number fourteen,” he said as he stared at you, his grip tightening around your throat “After that Ill eat your friend and will have digested fifteen of Urokodaki’s students.”
The voice sounded further and further away as your air source dwindled. You glanced over to Sabito’s body on the ground as black spots began to fill your vision. You couldn’t save him. Neither of you would fulfill your promise to the other. You thought of Giyuu, hopefully on the other side of the mountain with the others now. Somewhere far away. Where the hand demon wouldn’t find them in time. In your final moments, you prayed, to anything that would listen, that Giyuu would make it back home.
It was the last thing you did before everything went dark.
Twenty-Five
Years passed since Muzan Kibutsuji was defeated. All of the demons who preyed on humans were eradicated. The fight was finally over. Giyuu made the most of the four years he was given, mindful of the timeline given to him when he obtained the demon slayer mark.
He knew it was his time. He laid in his bed, in a small house he obtained with land to till. Something quiet after all his time in the demon slayer corps. His old haori lay across a chair, the mask you gave him hanging from the wall.
You told him you would take it back when you returned. Instead, he arrived back at the mountain alone, carrying your mask and Sabito’s haori. He didn’t know how he was going to tell your mentor. Thankfully he didn’t have to. One look and Urokodaki only nodded, vowing to never send another student to the final selection. The day he left the mountain he thought he saw you and Sabito standing there, only to disappear when he turned around.
When they made him a hashira he heard your voice, telling him that all three of you would make it. That they should be honored to have three water hashira. He thought about the night before the final selection and the promise his two friends made to each other. Once again he thought it should have been him who died instead.
In the weeks leading up to this moment, he’d been having the same dream. A woman on her wedding day, dressed in a white kimono, her hair piled up with an elaborate pin. Some nights it was his sister, other nights it was you. Or at least he thought it was. You looked to be the age he was now, what you should have been. Both women denied a future in exchange for saving his life.
Giyuu turned his head, feeling a hand on his own. He looked up to see his sister kneeling beside the bed. She gave him a warm smile, rubbing his hand in reassurance. If this was a dream he wasn’t sure if he wanted to wake up.
“It’s been a while, Giyuu.”
He directed his attention to the voice, one he recognized as his best friend. Sabito stood at the foot of his bed, a smile on his face. You stood next to him, your face as kind as he remembered. Tsutako gripped his hand, helping to ease him out of bed. His body felt lighter than it had in days.
You stepped forward, grabbing his other hand, holding it in both hands as if he would break. A smile on your face.
“We’ve come to bring you home.”
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Broken Pieces (young!James Potter x Reader)
hi! so this is for @pad-foots 500k celebration writing challenge, congratulations @pad-foots! *cheering noises* the reader being slytherin is important to the storyline otherwise it would have been non house specific. and um yeah it’s james potter x reader and hella angsty. with the prompt 10/12 “who the hell hurt you?” ahh i barely got this out on time! omg that was so terrifying to write! i hope everyone likes it!
warning: abusive family, bullying, self dislike?, swearing, SADNESS, 
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The Noble House of Monroe will not be shamed. The Noble House of Monroe will not be shamed. 
Y/N traced the scars on the back of her palm methodically in a soothing motion before sighing and getting up from her spot at the base of the wall in the courtyard. It was almost dark and she would for being out late if she didn’t get back soon. She hurried down the stair toward the dungeons, glancing back and forth as she went. If she was caught and points were deducted it would only give her cousins another reason to torment her. A while back, maybe about a year or so before, her mother had convinced her cousins to get me in trouble in Ancient Runes, the professor was a friend of mother’s, so that I could write lines for a week. The Noble House of Monroe will not be shamed. It had taken weeks for the cuts of the words in her hands to heal and months to scar.  She hated that she wasn’t good enough. It was long known within her family that her father was a ‘blood traitor’. They said it made her just as worthless. They said she was weak for loving her father, though he didn’t want her. They said she was dirty for helping muggleborn and half-blood's alike. She had sullied her place in the family. She was no better then her father, a worthless blood traitor. When she first came to Hogwarts, she felt free. Free of the ideas and rules that had bound her for so long. She had spent her first months at Hogwarts helping up the boys and girls who were being picked on, hoping to gain some friends. She soon found that the world was just a cruel as her family. They hated her because of her last name, and her house, and her family. It was 3rd year and she still hadn't made any friends. She stuck to her ideal saying it was the right thing to do, but she wondered every so often if it was worth the world of pain it brought with it. She kept a void mask on, no reaction, no emotions. No emotion when her cousins shoved her in the corridors, no emotion when her mothers hand would come down, leaving more then just physical wounds. No emotion when people would jeer at her and tug at her tie. But underneath she was crying, sobbing, breaking. Her being was just composed of cracked glass that she was so desperately trying to hold together. But at some point, she was bound to shatter. 
The door to Y/N’s dorm slammed behind her and she collapsed on to her bed. Immediately she felt something burn her face and arms. She leapt up and found her arms and cheek red with burns and the bed smoking. She just sighed and picked up the sheets and gave them a sniff. The draught of the living dead. But just enough to burn. She didn’t even get mad, she knew who did this. She was too tired, to drained to be mad. She was only a shell of the happy, kind, girl she had once been. The water washed over her burns, soothing the angry red that just couldn’t seem to faze her. Throwing on an old pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt she headed out of the dorm, eyes shining and threatening to break. It was only the sanctuary of the 2nd floor girls bathroom that she broke. Crumbling, shattering, a million pieces scattered. Sobs racked through her whole body, shaking and trembling. She caught her face in the mirror and she didn’t recognize the girl that stared back. She unleashed a scream so raw that even the sun seemed to cry. Worthless. Failure. Better off dead. Disgrace.  All she could do was cry as she shattered. And she wondered if she would ever be put back together. 
James Potter should not have been out this late. Sirius and him barely fit under the cloak together anymore. But this was essential if the prank was to go smoothly. “Pads, I swear if you don’t shut up I’ll tell Remus you’re in love with him!” He whispered. He had to repress a laugh as Sirius choked on his breath.
“You would not. And I don’t. Love him. Nope.” Sirius said, defensively. James just rolled his eyes and continued walking. Sirius opened his mouth to say more when something flew past them. 
“Pads...?” 
“Yeah?”
“Should we...?” James didn’t have to finish his sentence before Sirius started guiding them down the hall where the figure had gone. They walked in silence until they approached a girls bathroom with light streaming out from under the door. Sirius nodded at James and James reached out a hand to push the door open. James peered through the slightly open door to find, a girl? A girl was sitting on the floor, head in her hands. He could practically feel her sobs as she rocked on the floor. Her hands were red, like they’d been burned, and her hair tumbled down from its bun to frame her face. She shook and trembled until her head snapped up and James jumped. She looked in the mirror and James didn’t think he’d ever seen that much pain in a person before. Her eyes were swollen and tears ran down her face. She looked so sad and small. Her hands shook as she ran them down her face. Before he could react, she let out a scream. James’s eyes filled with tears and he felt his heart drop right through his feet. The scream was so full of pain and hatred, anger and sadness that he nearly fell over. She had collapsed again and just cried. Each cry was a knife to the chest as the sobs tore threw her. He went to walk in, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. Sirius was motioning him out and he widened his eyes trying to tell him that he had to go in. He had to help!  But Sirius was firm and dragged him away, prank long forgotten. When the reached the common room, Sirius sat down in an armchair across from James as he wore a hole in the carpet by pacing. 
“James,” Sirius said quietly, “sit down for a second.”
“Sit down! SIT DOWN!” James roared and then remembering that it was late, he lowered his voice, “Did you see her?! We should’ve helped her! I could’ve helped her!” James’s voice broke at the end and he looked away. 
“James, if you went barging in, do you think she would've appreciated that?” James sighed but Sirius kept going, “She needed a moment, and besides, I know her. I know her.” He trailed off at the end, his face contorted with guilt. 
“You know her?” James’s voice was soft, “Who?” He felt himself stumble back into the couch. 
“Y/N Monroe,” Sirius closed his eyes, memories washing over him, “I grew up with her. Our families were close. Her dad didn’t believe in any of the pureblood supremacy bullshit and left as soon as he found out that that’s what the family believed. She was like him. She always had a good moral compass.” A smile passed over his face fondly, “She liked to play quidditch with me...”
“Pads?” Sirius had never heard this tone in James’s voice before. Not when speaking about Evans, not when talking Rem down after a full moon, never. “What happened? Why don’t you talk anymore?”
“She was sorted into Slytherin” was the only response Sirius could provide. Silence overtook the pair, guilt hitting Sirius in waves. He had abandoned her and look what that had done. 
James was the one who broke the silence, “I’m going to be her friend.”
James was true to his word. The very next day he sat next to her and just talked. Surprisingly, she was really funny and easy to talk to. They would talk about quidditch, he would tell her about all his pranks, she would tell him about the books she read. When he invited her to sit with the marauders at the Gryffindor table, she was scared. She knew James and Sirius were friends but she was terrified about seeing him again. James assured her that he wanted to make it up to her. After a few days of begging on James’s part, she agreed. That day, Sirius had apologized and they rekindled the ashes of their old friendship. She had officially made friends in the most unexpected of people. Since becoming friends with James this fall, the year had gone from worst to best in a matter of weeks. She started spending most of her day with the Marauders and often found herself in their dorm more then her own. Her heart was suddenly light all the time and she never was without a smile. It was like a dream, she had friends she had James, and she was happy.
James was happy too. Y/N was like nothing he had ever expected. She could simply just listen to him and understand. She was funny and just so good. It was inexplicable. She was like a gentle breeze on a hot summer day. When she smiled at him, his heart grew about a million sizes bigger. When he first made her laugh, he almost passed out. It was so precious, that laugh, and he made it a goal to hear it everyday. It was like she was feeding life into him with each smile, each soft tease, each laugh. His mind would often wander back to the time in the bathroom, her tears running down her face, her body shaking with sobs. But he had to remind himself that those tears had become smiles and that her body shook with laughter rather than sobs. Everything felt better with her around. The sun, a little brighter. His flying, a little faster.  It was like she was feeding life into him with each smile, each soft tease, each laugh.  He was hopelessly in love with her. 
“You’re just jealous that Slytherin has a better keeper then Gryffindor!” Y/N laughed. The marauders sat in their dorm, Y/N tucked between James’s lanky legs. 
“Am not! He’s a horrible keeper! And ugly!” James retorted, shoving her back off his chest so she could look at him. 
“Didn’t Sirius say he was cute the other day?” 
Remus and Sirius both answered at the same time
“Sirius-”
“I DID NOT!”
“You did, but you also mentioned how he looked like a certain someone...” Y/N trailed off, smirk growing. She never missed an opportunity to make fun of Sirius and Remus after she caught them snogging last month. The two blushed and suddenly the board game was very interesting. James looked around in confusion before stretching back and lying down. Y/N glanced down and went to get up, wanted to leave James in piece for a nap. As her knees left the bedframe, a hand wrapped around her wrist and she flinched but managed to bite back her scream. James cocked an eyebrow at her, questioning. 
“You ok, love?” he asked quietly enough that she knew it was just for her.
“Yeah, just startled me is all” She managed as she struggled to calm her racing heart. Y/N cursed herself internally, usually she was fine with physical contact. In fact, she found it quite comforting. But when she wasn’t ready, all she could see was her mother’s hands and her father’s fists. 
“M’ tired love, wanna nap?” James yawned and Y/N realized with a start that he meant with him. She felt heat race to her cheeks and she gave a small nod. He opened his arms and Y/N climbed in and tucked her head into his neck. He gave a soft exhale and tightened his arms around her. His breath ruffled her hair and tickled her neck. His calming presence washed over her in waves with each inhale and exhale. She let her eyes close and for once she wasn’t scared of the things that haunted her dreams. Here, she felt safe. Safe. She hadn’t felt that way in a long time. 
Y/N should’ve known that a feeling a safety would only last so long. As she walked out of James’s dorm that night, she could feel a pair of eyes watching her. Their presence tingled on her back and her head. She slowly slipped her hand inside her robe and tightened her grip on her wand. She was nearly to the dungeons when she heard it. “Y/N/N!” a voice trilled. Y/N’s stomach dropped. She knew that voice.  Her cousins had found out about her recent bond with James and the Gryffindor's. She should’ve known that they would come sooner or later. Just another reason she was a failure. 
Y/N took a deep breath in and called back “Yes, Owen?”
Owen gave a malicious chuckle, “I have a present for you!” and with that he stepped out into the light. But it wasn’t just him. Y/N felt her whole body freeze. Her mother. Tall, commanding, cruel. And standing right in front of her. “She knows her potions, right, Y/N?” It took a moment for the meaning to hit Y/N and when it did she nearly fell over. Her mother had been behind the potion on her mattress. Why had she thought any different? She was taken back to the girl she was all those nights ago, breaking down in the girls bathroom. Broken, hurt and tired. 
“Y-you did that?” Y/N’s voice was barely audible in the large hallway, the space between her and her mother eating away at the sound. 
“Well, darling, I had to show you that we will not be shamed by you, didn’t I?” Her mother’s voice was cold and calculating, the honey she tried to inflict felt more like the lick of a whip, lashing out in every syllable. “Obviously, that didn’t work, as dear Owen says,” She stopped to give her nephew a fond look, “told me that you’d made some friends” Y/N’s mother spat the word with such disgust and her nose wrinkled as if the mere idea was repulsive. “You’ve been associating with blood traitors and mudbloods”
Y/N was cowering, each word her mother said seemed to sink her farther into the floor. 
“Maybe it’s time you really let the lesson... sink in.” Her mother crowed. Her mother advanced until she was looking down at Y/N. Her claw-like hands drew Y/N’s chin up to look at her. A palm struck her cheek.
“Worthless” The next 20 minutes were a blur of flying hands and purple bruises. Each hit broke down the glass she had finally put back together. She shut her eyes against the pain but she could still here. “Stupid”
Disgrace
Not good enough
Loser
Fat
She tried to stay strong, she really did, but tears fell in hot waterfalls down her face. Then it was over. “You are nothing.” was the last thing she heard before they were gone. She was left alone to pick up the broken pieces. Again. She slowly dragged her bruised and battered body up toward the same girls bathroom. The irony did strike her as she pulled herself in front of the mirror. The girl who stared back was purple and blue. Inside and out. The marks her mother and cousin had left would join the scars on her hands from the potion. They would join her memorabilia of pain. Of hatred. She wasn’t good enough. Worthless. Failure. GO DIE. NOTHING. The thoughts just kept getting louder and louder. Her hands were in her hair, tugging at the ends, pulling and pulling and pulling. James. Y/N wasn’t even aware of herself as she walked the halls, bloodied and limping. Her face reflected no pain, only defeat. It was only outside James’s door did she stop. Why would he want you? You, you who is nothing. You who is a broken thing. A basket case. He will never love someone who isn’t even whole anymore. Her glassy eyes pooled with tears which spilled. Her body gave out, collapsed on the floor. Go to sleep. Just die here. Her mind whirled with taunts. She just wished it would go away. She wished she could go away.
“Y/N?” James. His voice sounded so, so broken. Shattered. “Y/N, love, what’s going on?” She just shook her head. James fell to his knees next to her. His breath caught as he saw her face. “Y/N!” Tears burned the backs of his eyes, and then he felt the anger. Who? Who would’ve thought that they could hurt her? “Please-” he shut his eyes as the whisper curled out of his mouth.
“James...” her voice cracked, all happiness vanished, he was left to hear the same raw unadulterated pain from that night in the bathroom. He wrapped her up in his arms and pulled her inside the dorm room, pressing light kisses to her hair. Sirius and Remus jumped up, eyes wide, shocked. James just jerked his head to the door. They exchanged a look. James and her needed this moment. With that, they filed out silently, defeated eyes heavy on Y/N’s figure.
“Y/N, please. What happened to you baby?” It registered in neither of their minds that he had called her baby. The worry in his voice was slowly drowning her. Why did he care so much?
“I- James- I can’t” Fresh tears streamed threw James’s shirt. James pulled away, his large hand coming up to cup Y/N’s delicate cheek. His finger feathered over the bruises lightly. 
“Y/N.” his voice was firm but his hand was still just as gentle, soothing her face with each stroke, “Who the hell hurt you?” His burning eyes spilled over and he turned his head away. 
“No. Stop pretending you care! I’M NOTHING!” Y/N’s sadness had gave way to anger and she was yelling, tears still flowing. She wouldn’t stop. “I’m a basket case! Why would you love someone who doesn’t even love themselves?” James’s eyes widened. She thought he didn’t love her. Instinct took over and he reached his other hand to grasp Y/N’s wrist which was pulling at her hair and kissed her. Y/N stiffened but as James’s lips move against hers she let go. Her arms twined around his neck, digging her fingers into his hair. James was so overwhelmed with love for her that he had to pull away. Y/N was looking at him in shock. Her eyes full blown wide and mouth still open in surprise. 
“I love you. You are something. You mean everything to me. You are my life. My soul and my body. I love you even when you don’t love yourself and I will keep loving you until you do. I love you.” Y/N choked on a sob, “I first wanted to be your friend because I saw you crying, breaking down in a bathroom. I felt so helpless, so lost but when I had you near me, I was complete. You are the other part of my soul. I love you. And I always have.” James cupped her face and pressed his lips to hers again. “Tell me baby, I’m here” She just looked at him and he felt her pain, her happiness, her love. 
“I love you,” she whispered against his lips “I love you. I’ve wanted to say it for so long. I love you.” She pulled away and let a sob run through her, “And you love me.” James nodded, a sad smile gracing his strong features. 
And so she told him, told him everything. From the potion on the bed to the summers before to tonight. He didn’t interrupt, just let her talk. He gasped at parts, cried at parts and when it got hard to tell the story, he would rub this thumb over her hand and let her take a break. Y/N was exhausted by then end but she had never felt lighter. Someone knew. And someone loved her for it. James tucked them into bed, bringing her into his warmth. As the light faded from the lamp and Y/N let sleep take her away, James pressed his face against her neck and whispered his love and his apologies and his hopes. “I’ll never let anyone hurt you again, my love. Never.” 
Edit: just gave this a name, i totally forgot the first time :)
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waitimcomingtoo · 4 years
Text
Baked Chicken
Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader
Submitted by @mylittleladysblog :
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A/n: Shoutout to Greg Townley, though I pray he never sees this.
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It was the first week of shooting the newest Spider-Man movie, and you were finally wearing costumes. Getting to wear MJ’s comfortable clothes was always an exciting part of the film making process for you. You saw your stunt double in the same white t shirt and ripped black jeans as you were in and gave her a high five. She didn’t wear her wig unless she was filming, so you could easily be told a let. Unlike Tom and Greg, who were impossible to differentiate between when they were wearing the same costume and facing the back.
Impossible.
“Hey you.” You spotted Tom with his face buried in the script and tapped him on the shoulder. After two movies together, now working on your third, you were best friends.
And it is perfectly normal to be in love with your best friend.
“Hey Y/n.” Toms stunt double, Greg turned around with a surprised smile.
“Greg! What a surprise!” You laughed in shock and tried to hide your embarrassment for mistaking Greg as Tom.
“Surprise? You tapped me on the shoulder.” Greg reminded you, not realizing you had been looking for Tom. You nodded and decided to lie as to not hurt his feelings.
“And it’s very surprising that you turned around. I could’ve been anyone. I could’ve had a knife!” You laughed awkwardly at your lame attempt at a cover up and Greg saw right through it.
“You thought I was Tom.” He said matter of factly.
“I did, yes.” You admitted. “But getting to talk to you is a lovely surprise.”
“Right.” He laughed dismissively and you instantly felt guilty.
“I’m sorry. I am happy to see you, though. You’re doing a really great job with the stunts.” You told him sincerely and he gave you a half smile.
“Thanks. Its really not that scary if you ever wanted to try it. I could even show you.” He offered with a certain kindness to it.
“Haha, thanks but I think I’ll let my stunt double handle that. I’m not a huge fan of heights or falling to my death.” You said and he laughed.
“Nonsense. I wouldn’t let you fall.” He shrugged shyly. 👉👈 I’ll put them in every story just watch me
“Thanks, Greg.” You smiled, pleasantly surprised with how the accidental conversation had gone.
“Hey, Y/n.” Tom came from behind you and put his hand on the small of your back, something he did when the paparazzi on the red carpets were shouting a little too loudly or if someone got a little too close to you. “Hi, Greg.”
“Tom!” You leaned into his touch, sensing he was a little off.
“I’ll leave you guys to it.” Greg nodded and walked towards the trailers.
“Since when are you and Greg friends?” Tom asked as soon as Greg was out of earshot. He kept his hand on your back and you realized he felt threatened.
“Since we started rehearsing in costume and I can’t tell you guys apart from the back.” You told him to ease his mind.
“That’s too bad.” Tom laughed lightly, relieved to know the playful shoulder tap was meant for him.
“It is too bad. I just wasted some perfectly good flirting on your stunt double.” You joked and Toms angst was immediately alleviated. Neither of you dared to say it, but you both knew you had something going on. Tom was just as hopelessly in love with you as you were with him, but the fear of getting rejected and then having to continue playing love interests stopped you from confessing.
It just didn’t stop you from flirting.
“Oh yeah? Maybe I should start doing my own stunts, then, like Tom Cruise.” Tom said and flexed his arm to make you laugh. “Makes the action shots look a a lot cooler anyway, you know?”
“I have never seen a Tom Cruise movie.” You said as you playfully squeezed his muscle.
“Really?” Tom asked.
“I don’t even think I’ve seen a trailer of his.” You realized. “I doubt I could even name one of his movies.”
“Mission impossible.” Tom told you.
“Well, I don’t think it’d be impossible for me to name one but it might take a while.” You disagreed, not realizing he was naming a movie.
“No I was- you know what? Never mind.” Tom laughed fondly and you had a feeling you missed the joke. Not wanting the conversation to end there, you gave him a soft shrug.
“Maybe we can watch one together one day.” You suggested as you fixed them collar of his shirt.
“I would love to.” He said with a faint blush.
That night, you watched about 47 minutes of a Tom Cruise movie before falling asleep in Toms lap. He made it midway of the movie before dozing off as well.
You woke up first the next morning and jolted a little when you didn’t recognize where you were. You quickly realized you were in Toms trailer, smiling softly when you saw his sleeping body next to you. Your legs were practically braided together, so you couldn’t move. You nudged him a little and in his sleep, he pulled you back on to the bed and held you to his chest.
“Morning.” You giggled as he rolled on top of you, still half asleep.
“Good morning.” Tom said groggily, opening his eyes a title. “What time is it?”
“7. We have to be in makeup by 8.” You checked your phone. You pushed him off of you but he held on tight, leaving you with your chin resting on his chest as he stared down at you, arms clad around your waist and resting on your back.
“I kinda want to stay here all day. Is that bad?” He said with a sleepy smile.
“It’s not bad if I want to do it too.” You smiled and brushed a hair off his nose. “We can stay here a few more minutes and then go get some breakfast. Sound good?”
“Sounds perfect.” He nodded and ran his fingers through your messy hair.
~
You spotted Tom later in the blue plaid button up he was wearing as Peters costume. After the morning you’d had together, you were less worried of his rejection and more focused on sealing the deal. You walked up to him with confidence and gave him a hug from behind.
“Hey.” You wrapped your arms around his torso, missing him after a long day of shooting separate scenes. You were surprised to hear a deep sigh come from his mouth, as if he wasn’t happy to see you.
“It’s Greg.” Greg said and you quickly let go as you realized you were hugging the wrong boy.
“Oh shit.” You whispered as Greg turned around. “I mean, hey Greg! Don’t be silly, I knew it was you.” You lied through your teeth.
“You did?” Greg asked with a hint of skepticism and a hint of hope.
“Well of course! I just had to give my special guy a hug, like I always do.” You said with unnatural cheerfulness. You were a great actress, but a terrible liar.
“I thought you only hugged me when you thought I was Tom.” Greg said and you felt stuck.
“What? Me? Never. I hug you because I…love you.” You blurted the first thing that came to your mind. You barely knew Greg and now you were telling him you loved him.
“You love me?” Greg said with a bright smile.
“Who doesn’t love Greg? Not me, I’ll tell you that.” You slapped his arm. “Love me some Greg every now and then.” You committed to your lie.
“Thanks, Y/n. That means a lot.” Greg was somehow unaware of your deceit.
“Anytime, pal. Anytime.” You punched him lightly on the shoulder. As he walked away, you made a mental note to double check before hugging anybody in a plaid shirt.
You went two full weeks without accidentally hugging Greg after that. All your hugs had been given to Tom, who they were rightfully meant for. He enjoyed the affection from you and at the same time, Greg began to miss it.
~
“That was amazing! God, you take my breath away.” You threw your arms around Toms shoulders and squeezed after a strenuous shoot with lots of wire work. He put his hands over yours and gave them a light squeeze before turning around.
“Aw, thanks Y/n.” Greg smiled and you felt like an idiot.
“How the hell does this keep happening?” You thought.
“Greg!” You said with a fake smile as you scanned the background for Tom.
“You thought I was Tom again, didn’t you?” He asked, a little disappointed.
“Would you stop with that? I always know it’s you.” You blatantly lied to his face
“You don’t have to say that, Y/n. If you were expecting Tom-“ Greg began.
“I wasn’t expecting Tom.” You cut him off, even though you were completely expecting Tom.
“So I take your breath away?” He tested you.
“Absolutely.” You let out a fake scoff.
“That’s funny.” He said with a small smile.
“Why?” You asked.
“You do the same to me.” He said timidly.
“Oh.” You said softly.
“See you around.” He nodded and walked away, leaving you confused and questioning what he meant.
~
The next time you waited for Tom after filming a scene, you made sure it was actually Tom. You waited until Toms sweet brown eyes met yours before you ran to him.
“Tom! Great job.” You threw your arms around him and buried your face in his neck. Tom happily picked you up as you wrapped your legs around his waist. He set you down gently and squeezed your face between his hands with an endearing grin.
“Thanks, princess.” He said. The nickname made your heart skip a beat. You smiled brightly at him until your eyes trailed to the right. Tom followed your gaze and saw Greg leaving set. You broke out of Toms embrace and went to Greg.
“Greg! Awesome work!” You said honestly and gave him a quick hug, which he happily accepted. Tom felt jealousy bubble in the pit of his tummy at the sight of you and Greg. He had no idea when it started, but he seemed to be seeing you and Greg together everywhere he turned.
“Thanks, Y/n. Catch you later.” Greg smiled and left the set.
“I didn’t realize you and Greg were on a hugging basis now.” Tom said, sounded less friendly than he intended. He was annoyed, and you could tell.
“I just have to convince him that I hug him on purpose.” You said and Tom furrowed his eyebrows.
“What does that even mean?” Tom inquired.
“I’ll explain later. Come on. I’ve missed you all day.” You tugged him by the hand and the pit in his tummy was replaced with butterflies as you tugged him towards your trailer.
~
“Hey man.” Greg said as he walked up to the snack table and stood behind Tom.
“Mate, awesome work today. The stunts look great.” Tom complimented.
“You’re doing something great work yourself.” Greg returned the favor.
“Thanks. I could never do what you do, though. They must’ve dunked you in that water a thousand times.” Tom kept the conversation light.
“It’s worth it. Especially this next scene.” Greg smiled to himself.
“Next scene?” Tom asked as he stirred some sugar into his tea.
“When MJ dives in the lake after Peter and kisses him through the mask.” Greg said with a light blush on his cheeks. Tom knew the scene was being shot today, but he assumed it was going to be between Greg and your stunt double.
“Oh, right. You’re excited to spend all that time underwater?” Tom forced a laugh before taking a sip of tea.
“I’m excited for Y/n to kiss me.” Greg laughed and Tom choked on his tea. He snapped out of it and tried to keep his cool as he continued the conversation.
“Oh, yeah? I thought her stunt double was gonna do that.” Tom said as he dabbed his chin with a napkin.
“Nah, man. That’s what makes her so cool. She said something about seeing a Tom Cruise movie for the first time and wanting to do her own stunts. She’s gonna be the one diving in the lake and kissing me underwater. Best job ever, right?” Greg nudged Tom playfully, having no idea how much Tom liked you. Or how much this conversation was killing him.
“Right.” Tom laughed nervously. “Are you into her or something?”
“God, I am in love with that girl. And I think she likes me back.” Greg said confidently and Toms heart stopped. You were always talking to Greg, and usually seemed very happy when you were. You hadn’t mentioned anything about liking someone, but then again, you never talked about that stuff with Tom. Toms mouth went dry at the thought of you losing you to his stunt double.
“What makes you so sure?” He asked curiously, a little afraid to hear the answer.
“She’s always running to see me or hugging me from behind. And she compliments me so much, it’s insane.” Greg chuckled. “I think she might really like me.”
“And all the hugs from behind, are you sure they’re meant for you? I don’t mean to burst your bubble or anything, but she and I are very close and she could be mistaking you for me when we’re in the same clothes. Or something.” Tom stammered.
“That’s what I always thought, but she assured me it wasn’t true.” Greg smiled to himself at the thought of the conversation you had once. “She told me I take her breath away, man. How cute is that?”
“Adorable.” Tom gulped. He didn’t know you said that to Greg, and it made him upset to think about you giving such a sweet compliment to someone else.
“I’m gonna ask her out.” Greg decided. “I’m tired of waiting. I’m just gonna do it.”
“Ask her out? When?” Tom panicked.
“Next time I see her. You’re shooting a scene on set B later, right? She usually hangs around when you’re filming. I’ll probably catch her there.” Greg drew up his plan.
“Ha, yeah.” Tom laughed weakly.
“Alright. See you later, dude.” Greg patted Toms back and walked away from the table.
“Later.” Tom said, but Greg was already gone.
Tom left the snack table and started furiously texting you, asking you to meet him anywhere as quickly as possible. He entirely missed you walked past him until he heard your voice.
“Hey Greg.” You said as you walked by, also buried in your phone. Tom stopped walking and looked at you curiously.
“It’s Tom.” Tom said, a little bitterly, and you stopped in your tracks. You turned around with a surprised smile and walked back to him.
“Oh My God, really?” You said in disbelief, looking him up and down to make sure it was true.
“Were you expecting Greg?” Tom worried after the conversation he’d just had with Greg.
“I am literally never expecting Greg. That’s my problem.” You laughed and fixed Toms hair that had fallen into his face.
“What?” Tom asked, feeling better now that you were being your usual flirty self with him.
“Nothing. Long story.” You shook your head and stopped touching his hair, content with how it looked.
“Okay. You ready for that lake scene later? I heard you’re doing it yourself.” Tom faked a smile, desperate to know your thoughts on shooting the scene with Greg.
“I am! I’m really excited for it actually. You’re gonna be there right?” You asked for confirmation.
“Definitely.” Tom assured you, trying to read your reaction.
“Cool. I like when you watch me film.” You told him and he perked up a little.
“Having me there doesn’t make you nervous? Every time I know my mum is watching a take, I forget how to blink.” Tom eased up and you laughed.
“It’s different with you. I feel more at ease knowing you’re watching. It calms me down.” You told him and he couldn’t help from smiling.
“I’m happy to hear that.” He said honestly. “And you’re doing the scene with Greg, right?”
“Yeah. Greg.” You nodded slightly, not wanting to change the subject.
“Great guy.” Tom commented with an uneasy smile.
“No, totally.” You said stiffly. You did not want to be talking about Greg with the boy you liked.
“Are you excited to kiss him?” Tom blurted and you looked at him strangely.
“Excited? Bleh. It’s through the mask anyway and it’s in the script. It’s nothing like what we shot yesterday.” You tried to bring the conversation back to a place where progress was being made. Toms face flushed when he thought of the climatic kiss you shot yesterday. After 18 takes of kissing you like he’d never see you again, Tom went home dizzy with a dreamy smile on his face.
“Yeah I um, I enjoyed yesterday.” He looked at the ground and smiled shyly. 👉👈 I’ll never stop.
“We should do it again sometime.” You said boldly and Toms attention whipped back to you. He had to stop the giant smile that wanted to break through from surfacing.
“I agree. Maybe without the camera though.” His mouth moved faster than his brain, but you seemed to like it.
“Yeah.” You smiled and took a step closer to Tom. “I meant to tell you this before, but you’re doing a great job with this film. I love staying on set to watch you do your scenes. Especially the emotional ones, Tom.” You sighed in content. “You take my breath away.
“I do? Me?” Tom asked when he recognized the compliment you had told Greg.
“Yeah, you.” You laughed at his strange response. “Why?”
“Can I ask you something?” He became serious.
“Anything.” You assured him.
“Have you ever hugged Greg thinking he was me?” He asked if as casually as he could to not make it weird.
“Um, only like everyday. That’s why I was so surprised it was actually you earlier. Why?” You wondered how he had caught on to your ongoing dilemma.
“There’s something I need to tell you.” He said, all playfulness gone from his tone. Tom wanted to tell you about Greg’s plan, not necessarily to steal you from Greg, but to prepare you for what was coming. If Tom was putting the pieces together correctly, all your flirty banter with Greg was intended for Tom. Now Greg was whipped and you were about to look like the bad guy.
He also wanted to steal you from Greg.
“Tom Holland to set B. Tom Holland to set B.” A voice rang through on the announcements at the worst possible time.
“You can tell me after. I gotta head to makeup anyway.” You smiled and Tom felt his panic rise. “It’s just a touch-up, so I’ll be by soon to watch your scene. Good luck.” You squeezed his arm and walked away. Tom watched with dread as you left before he had a chance to tell you what was coming.
~
Tom stood on his mark and listened to what the director wanted him to do in the scene, even though his mind was a million miles away. He only barely heard them call “action” and began to deliver his lines with his focus all over the place. His eyes trailed off his scene partner and landed on Greg, slowly approaching you as you watched the scene with a giddy smile. Toms mouth went dry and he purposely flubbed his line so they could stop filming. The director began to give him some more directions, but Toms focus was pointed at you and Greg.
“Hey, Y/n.” Greg taped your shoulder and you turned around.
“Freaking Greg.” Tom muttered through gritted teeth.
“Hey Greg. Come by to watch the scene?” You asked politely.
“I came to see you, actually.” Greg said, making your head turn.
“You did?” You asked, not used to him initiating the conversations you had.
“Yeah, there was something I needed to tell you.” Greg smiled nervously and Tom felt himself beginning to sweat, the cold kind that chilled your spine.
“Oh, sure. Go ahead.” You said and gave Greg your full attention.
“No no no no no no.” Tom whispered in despair.
“What was that?” Kevin, the director asked.
“I said ‘woah woah woah woah woah’ because this scene is just so good.” Tom lied and turned his attention back to you.
“Can we go somewhere private, actually?” Greg requested and Tom nearly fell to the ground. He wished he could leave the set and ask you to stay, ask you to be his instead, but he couldn’t. He had to stand by and watch as another boy whisked you away. A boy in the exact same freaking clothing as Tom was in.
“Okay.” You made eye contact with Tom and Greg began to lead you away. You weren’t blind to the look of devastation on his face and gave him a quizzical look. Tom shrugged sadly and you began to wonder if this had anything to do with what he was trying to tell you before.
You and Greg walked off set and found a quiet space near the trailers. Your tummy did flip flops as Greg cleared his throat, obviously getting ready to tell you something. You took a deep breathe and lead the conversation.
“What did you need to tell me?” You asked.
“I guess I’ll just be straightforward. I like you, Y/n. I like you a lot.” Greg admitted. “I wasn’t gonna say anything because I didn’t think I’d ever have a chance with a girl like you, but then you kept hugging me and complimenting me and I don’t know. It made me think you liked me back? Am I right when I say that?”
“Greg, I…” You absorbed his words and let them sink to the bottom of your tummy like a rock. “…am a jerk. I’m a total jerk.”
“That’s not true. You’re the nicest person on this set.” Greg insisted and you felt even worse.
“I’m not.” You sighed. “I do admire your work and I am always happy to see you, but I have never approached you thinking you were…well, you. I’m always-“
“-looking for Tom?” Greg finished your sentence.
“Yes.” You came clean. “I shouldn’t have lied to you, but I just felt so bad. I didn’t want you to feel unappreciated, because I really do think you’re great. I didn’t realize lying would make the situation worse.”
“I had a feeling you weren’t actually excited to see me.” Greg laughed halfheartedly. “Probably should’ve listened to that feeling.”
“I’m so sorry.” You apologized and squeezed his arm.
“You know what? It’s okay. We wouldn’t have worked out anyway.” Greg said with a sincerity you appreciated. He didn’t seem hurt, just relieved to get it off his chest.
“Why do you say that?” You asked out of curiosity.
“Well, like I said. You take my breath away.” Greg said and you felt guilt again. “You make me so nervous, it’s not even funny. And there’s this study that says if you meet someone and they make you nervous, and your palms get sweaty, and your heart races out of your chest, then they aren’t the one for you. It’s not until you meet someone who makes you feel totally calm that you’ve found your soulmate.”
“Oh.” You said quietly, taking his words into consideration.
“Have you ever had that? Someone who makes you feel at peace?” He asked quietly.
“I don’t know.” You told him, too deep in thought to give him a better answer.
“Greg Townley to Lot A. Greg Townley to Lot A.” Rang over the announcements.
“That’s my cue. I’ll see you around, Y/n.” Greg gave you a kind smile.
“See you.” You said sadly. He walked away and you felt your heart sink with every step he took. You didn’t want to be with him, but you also didn’t want to break his heart. He was so kind about your rejection that it made you even sadder. He deserved better than an “I don’t know.”
You took a walk to clear your head and didn’t get back to your trailer until the sun had set. You’d taken a lot of time to think, asking yourself what today was supposed to teach you. If Greg could put himself out there and confess his feelings, you could too. You could also tell him the real reason you had to turn him down. You opened your trailer door and jumped when you saw Greg in there already, facing the wall and flipping through a magazine. You took a deep breath and prepared to rip the band-aid off.
“Greg! I need to talk to you. Remember when you asked me if I had someone who made me feel at peace and I told you I didn’t know?” You asked. “I do know. It’s Tom. It’s always been Tom. You are so sweet and talented and kind but I am so in love with that boy, it’s unbelievable.” You let out a laugh. “I really appreciate you telling me about your feelings and I’m sorry I can’t reciprocate them, but it has nothing to do with you. It’s just because I’m in love with someone else. I’m sorry.”
Greg had stopped flipping through the magazine at some point and stood frozen, facing the wall. You were out of breath from your rant and his stillness wasn’t helping your anxiety.
“Please say something.” You begged. Greg slowly turned around and lo and behold,
It was Tom.
“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me.” You yelled, not to anyone in particular, but it was slightly aimed at God.
“You’re in love with me?” Tom asked like it was the craziest thing he ever heard. You gave him a shrug, not knowing what else to do.
“Now it’s you? Why hasn’t it been you the 500 times I’ve given Greg the best hug of his life? The one time I need to talk to Greg, and it’s you? Really?” You asked the Heavens why you consistently made that mistake. “Oh and yeah, I am.” You sheepishly answered his question.
“I thought Greg was gonna ask you out.” He said, hurt evident in his tone.
“He did.” You told him, once again talking about Greg instead of your budding romance with each other.
“And you said no?” Tom tilted his head to the side.
“Did you not hear my whole rant?” You practically yelled at him out of frustration.
“Well, not the first part because I was reading a recipe for baked chicken-“ Tom glanced back down at the magazine and pure rage filled your body.
“TOM!” You yelled to regain his attention.
“It was a good recipe!” He defended as he pointed to the centerfold. “It has sweet potatoes.”
“I’m trying to tell you how I feel and you’re-wait, sweet potatoes?” You pretended to be caught off guard at the new information.
“Yeah, look.” He handed you the magazine as you glared at him for not getting your sarcasm. You smacked it out of his hands and he stared at it on the ground. You both stood in silence for a moment, staring at the magazine before Tom started to laugh. You were angry at first, but started laughing as well when you realized he was messing with you.
“You don’t care about the chicken.” You said indefinitely.
“Nope.” He shook his head.
“You’re messing with me.” You realized.
“Yep.” He nodded with a cheeky grin.
“I hate you so much.” You whined and stamped your foot.
“I may be in love with you, but you’re always gonna be my best friend before anything else. And there’s nothing I love more than messing with my best friend.” Tom took your hand and pulled you against his body. You let out a little surprised laugh but quieted down when you saw the look on his face as he took your face between his hands. “You think I care about baked chicken when my princess told me she’s in love with me? You think I’m worried about sweet potatoes now? At a time like this?”
“That was half sweet and half absolutely ridiculous to listen to.” You berated him and he laughed. You could feel his body moving against yours as he laughed and it had a certain effect on you.
“Was it the part about the sweet potatoes?” He pouted and you wanted to smack him.
“No.” You huffed and he pressed his forehead against yours.
“The baked chicken, then?” He asked.
“Say baked chicken one more time and I promise you-“ You were interrupted by Tom kissing you. You’d kissed plenty of times before for the camera, but this one felt different.
This one felt earned.
Tom pulled away after a minute and let out a soft chuckle.
“I’ve been in love with you for years, and all it took was Greg and some baked chicken for us to finally get together?” He whispered to not disturb the peace.
“Don’t mistake my gentle tone for calmness because I can assure you, I am filled with waters of rage,” You said sweetly and Tom laughed, “but I dare you to say baked chicken again. I dare you.”
“Alright, I’ll stop.” Tom smiled and pecked your lips again. “We can’t go to far from set, so I have some ramen and Cheerios if you want dinner. It can be like our first date.”
“God, ramen and Cheerios? You spoil me too much.” You teased him over his food choices.
“Says the girl with nothing in her trailer but popcorn and no microwave.” Tom teased you.
“It’s not my fault that they took away my microwave after I accidentally put the mental cup in there.” You shot back. Tom bit his lips as he stared at you with a dopey smile. It wasn’t long before you smiled back.
“Tell you what princess, as soon as we get a break from filming, I want you to come over to my house for a real date.” Tom said as he wrapped his arms around you. “I have plans for us.”
“Plans?” You asked with a cheeky smile.
“There’s this great recipe-“ Tom didn’t get to finish his sentence, as he was smacked across the face with one of your pillows.
More like this: If We Were A Movie
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chimchimsauce · 3 years
Text
XS (I - Spitfire)
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“Give me just a little bit MORE”
Being the son of the largest gang in the country, Kim Taehyung might as well be a prince. He is more powerful than any one man should be and is not afraid to get rid of anything - or anyone that gets in his way.
So when a man is unable to pay back the gigantic loan he owes Taehyung, the heir is all too happy to take his life. Moments away from pulling the trigger, a girl more beautiful than he’s ever seen bursts in and offers her life for her father’s. Taehyung knows right away that he wants her.
And Taehyung gets everything he wants.
Prologue
Chapter One - Spitfire
The house is suspiciously quiet as YN's uber pulls up to her driveway. Usually, her father would be outside gardening or there would be the joyful barking of her childhood dog as she runs around the yard.
But everything is dead silent. Even the air seems still, almost as if Mother Nature herself is holding her breath. No birds chirp and no wind rustles through the leaves.
Pure silence.
"Is everything okay?" the uber driver asks her.
YN's hands grab tightly to the seatbelt as she whips away from the window, startled by the man's voice.
"What?" she asks, "Ah, yeah, everything's fine. It's just a little quiet is all."
YN and her family have never had much, evident by the run-down state of their small house, but her home has always been filled with love and support. Just this morning her mother had called her before her final exam to wish her luck and say how excited she was for her to come home for summer break. YN fully expected her parents to be waiting for her on the doorstep with big smiles and open arms.
A tingle of fear snakes down her body. What if something is wrong?
She opens her purse and pulls out her phone to switch it off of airplane mode. Unfortunately, it dies before she can open her messages. She's received over twenty from her mother which only deepens the feeling that something is truly, incredibly wrong.
Taking a breath and praying that her intuition is wrong, YN steps out of the car and grabs her two suitcases, thanking her driver and sending him on his way.
The sound of wheels on concrete is much louder than it should be. YN ignores the tremble of her hand as she raises a finger to press the doorbell. Her dog barks, but the noise is cut off by a loud bang that scares YN out of her skin.
No one comes to answer the door. YN's heart is beating so quickly that she's afraid that she'll pass out. What should she do? Her phone is dead, so she can't call the authorities or another uber. Maybe she's just being ridiculous. Maybe everything is okay after all.
Clinging onto this tiny shred of hope, YN twists the doorknob, trying not to think about the fact that her parents never leave it unlocked. When she steps inside, luggage in tow, everything is quiet.
"Mom? Dad?" she calls out hesitantly.
"YN!" her mother's voice calls out, "Run!"
Before YN can respond, there's a loud bang - a gunshot and the horrid sound of her mother's screaming. Ignoring her warning, YN drops her bag and books it into the kitchen, heart racing and thoughts scattered.
When she arrives in the small kitchen, YN's voice gets caught in her throat as she looks at the scene before her. The room has been trashed completely. Their pots and pans have been strewn about and the cabinet doors have been ripped from their hinges and tossed away. But worse of all, in the middle of the chaos is her parents, tied to chairs and bruised and bloody. Her mother's hair has been mused into a bird's next and tear tracks streak down her face. Her father is in even worse condition, bleeding from several cuts along his face and body.
Three strangers stand around them, two with emotionless faces and knives. The third stands in front of YN's poor father, shoving a gun between his teeth with a cruel glint in his eyes.
"What are you doing?" YN shrieks, ignoring her mother's panicked expression.
Without thinking, YN launches herself at the man with the gun, taking everyone by surprise.
"Boss!" one of the other criminals calls out.
YN's mother starts screaming again as the man approaches YN, but the college student pays it no mind, too focused on wrestling the gun out of this man's hands. She straddles his hips, trying to use her weight to hold him down long enough for her to grab the weapon.
While desperation and fear pour from every pore of YN's skin, the man under her seems rather amused. YN hasn't looked at his face nor does she care too. Something tells her that if she did, she'd be completely petrified.
YN's efforts prove to be fruitless. After a few moments of struggling, YN is ripped away from the armed man by one of his henchmen, kicking and screaming.
"Well aren't you a little spitfire?" the man she'd been fighting says, rising elegantly and brushing off his suit.
A cocky smile plays on his lips, but there's a hint of something sinister in his gaze that has YN breaking out in a cold sweat. If he wasn't so terrifying, he might have been handsome with this tall stature and long hair, perfectly swept above his brows to reveal a face that belongs on a magazine cover.
"Honestly," he says, turning once more to YN's father, "Why didn't you tell me your daughter was coming home? I would have put together a welcome party better than this."
He chuckles, a deep sound that shows just how bemused he is.
"Ah well," he continues, "But maybe you'll be more cooperative now that your baby girl is here."
He snaps his fingers and the man that's holding her brings a knife to YN's throat, barely a hair's breadth away from cutting her.
"NO!" her parents shout out, fear in their eyes.
The man steps towards YN. his gun seeming to gleam in the light. He taps it against her face in a way that's nearly affectionate, using the cold metal to outline her facial features. YN's eyes are blown wide with fright, her pupils dilated and her breaths short.
"You're rather pretty, aren't you, YN?" he says, his voice sending chills down her spine.
He's stopping his tracing and now holds the gun flush against her forehead, a grin on his face.
"How do you," she says, licking her lips and trying desperately hard not to pee herself, "Know my name?"
The man cocks his head to the side and takes a step back, sticking his gun in the waistband of his shorts and taking a seat in one of the empty kitchen chairs, straddling it backward.
"Oh?" he asks, looking at her father again "You didn't tell her?"
Her father stays silent, refusing to look at the man speaking to him.
YN can tell by the way his jaw tightens that he doesn't like being ignored. Surprisingly, he doesn't blow up. YN fears something worse will happen.
"Well, since your dear old dad won't tell you what he's gotten himself into, I shall illuminate you. You see, he came to me when you got accepted into that stuck up school you attend, crying that he couldn't afford your tuition," he leans forward over the back of the chair to smile at YN, much too happy for the situation they're in, "So, of course I helped him. I am rather benevolent."
"But I got a scholarship!" YN protests, "You've got the wrong people!"
At her outburst, the man laughs loudly, leaning back in his chair and enjoying himself so much that hatred bubbles in YN's stomach, red hot and violent.
"You're adorable," he coos at her when his laughter finally dies down, "you really believe that? Did you even look into the 'scholarship' you received?"
YN stays silent, glaring at him through the tears that threaten to spill out.
"It was all me. I've been the one paying for your tuition and let me tell you, it's not cheap. Your dad was supposed to have all the money to pay me back today and surprise, he doesn't. So here we are," the stranger says, tossing his hands up into the air.
He stands up, retrieving his gun once more and nodding at his backup all three of them exchanging a look YN is terrified to now the meaning of.
"Well, as fun as it's been chatting with you, YN, I'm growing very bored of all of this. Let's just kill them and go."
YN's parents start screaming again but YN shouts over them, desperate to stop what's happening.
"I'll pay it!" she shrieks, "I'll pay it back! Don't hurt them, please!"
The man stops what he's doing, turning to look at her with interest.
"You'll never be able to pay it back," he says, a pitying tone in his voice, "It's better to just let me kill your parents and get it over with."
"No! I will! I'll pay it back! Every cent! I don't care if it takes my entire life!"
YN is in hysterics now, sweat and tears sticking to her skin as she struggles against her captor.
"Jungkook, let her go," the man says.
He does as told and YN collapses onto the floor, her legs unable to support her. The world around her is blurry from her glossed eyes as she cries freely, staring at the grimey floor.
"Please," she pleads, her voice broken.
Two leather shoes come into her sight and a single teardrop falls upon them.
"Look at me," the boss says.
YN raises her head to look at him. He's crouching beside her, an unreadable expression on his face.
"Don't do something you'll regret, YN," he says as if he's a friend advising her and not the one ruining her life.
"I'm not," YN says, speaking over the lump in her throat, "I'll never regret saving them."
For a moment, everything in the kitchen is deadly silent. YN's terrified that he'll just kill all of them anyway, turning her offer down entirely and laughing in her face.
"I have a different idea," he says, "You can pay back your parents' debt with your life."
"What," YN gasps out.
She's blotchy and red from all the crying but he swears he's never seen something so beautiful. A sadistic part of himself is dying to see this expression again.
"Marry me."
YN only gapes at him, half expecting him to burst out laughing.
"What?" she parrots.
"Marry me," he repeats, "Pay your family's debt back buy pledging to spend the rest of your life by my side."
YN's teary eyes search his face for a lie, finding none. Wordlessly, she bobs her head up and down, ignoring the protest from her parents.
"Wonderful," this man says, standing up and clapping his hands together, "Let's go YN. Home is quite the way away."
"Can I," she struggles, "At least say goodbye."
"No time. Come now or watch me put a bullet in between your mother's eyes."
YN rises instantly, between this stranger and his guards, refusing to look back even though her parents call out for her. She knows that if she does, she won't be able to walk away.
On their way out, YN sees the still form of her beloved childhood dog, her voice catching in her throat.
"Was it yours?" her soon to be husband asks.
YN nods.
"Use your words, YN," he orders.
"Yes," YN says, the singular word shaky in her throat.
"Sorry," he says half-heartedly, "It wouldn't shut up."
"Okay," is all she can muster, continuing with them out of her childhood home, never to see it or her parents again.
As soon as they step foot out onto the cracked sidewalk, a discreet black vehicle pulls up. The man opens the back door for her, gesturing for her to slide in. She does so mindlessly, barely registering what's happening.
The guards disappear from sight, most likely going to their own car.
"Make sure to use the childlock, Jimin," her to be husband says.
"Yes sir," the man replies.
YN doesn't even try to look at him, too emotionally exhausted to do anything. The car pulls away and the drive is so smooth that YN passes out, the exhaustion getting to her.
As she sleeps dreamlessly, the man sitting next to her looks her over, intrigued. It's been quite a while since he's been so interested in someone.
"Who's that?" the driver asks.
Jimin's always been curious, ever since they met as young children.
"No one. Not yet, at least."
"What did you get yourself into this time?"
"I'm not sure. Something tells me that it's going to be fun, though."
Chapter Two
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brutal-nemesis · 3 years
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E&T: Return of the Blep
It’s back but also not! (no i wont explain it you’ll see what I mean) Thank y’all for bullying him so much yesterday, it was a wonderful way to end the erabus!
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Ingredients: mouth whump, noncon surgery, lab whump
Erebus wanted to back away, to run, to hide, to resist, to fight. But doing so only made it hurt more when he lost, and he knew he was going to lose. So when the guards came to get him the next morning, he let them grab him and guide him down the hall. He promised himself he would be strong, no matter what awaited him, he could face it...right? He had to. He had to.
But as soon as Erebus laid eyes on the metal table, with its leather straps and bright overhead lights, his legs gave out. This was real. Right there, right on that table, he was going to be tied down and… he started to struggle desperately against the men dragging him, panic destroying his resolve to go quietly. He would not just let them do this, he was a person, he wasn’t a lab rat, he couldn’t let this happen. “Stop resisting,” one of the men growled, but Erebus hardly heard him through the haze of terror that had settled over him. Frustrated with Erebus’s squirming, the guard punched him square in the stomach. He gasped for breath, going limp long enough for the men to hoist him onto the table and strap his limbs down.
“Hey!” Neteri rushed over from her worktable, fuming. “Did you just hit him?”
“I’m sorry ma’am he was being difficult-”
“Well, I’d think two trained guards shouldn’t have a problem with one boy.” She got as close to the offending guard’s face as she could, somehow looking threatening while standing on her tiptoes. “You do not hurt him unless I explicitly tell you too. He is my experiment, my property, and there will be hell to pay if you mess that up in any way. Are we clear?”
“Y-yes, ma’am.” Seeing the guard’s regret, she stepped back. 
“Good. Now out of my sight.” Neteri turned to Erebus the moment the guards had left, her fury melting into concern. He couldn’t stop shaking, the table was so cold and he was so helpless and he was her experiment and what the hell was she going to do to him-
“Hey, hey, you’re alright, Erebus,” she said softly, sitting down on the table next to his head. She took off one of her gloves and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry he hit you. I know you’re scared, but I promise today won’t hurt that much. I’m just going to give you a new tongue so you can talk again, won’t that be nice? Though there are a couple conditions you have to agree to first.” 
Erebus froze. She...she was going to give him his tongue back? But why? Hadn’t she cut it off as a way of saying that she...wanted him? Unless...she did that instead of severing his vocal chords so it would be easier to reverse? Part of him started to hope that things weren’t going to be so bad after all, but he doubted that would be the case. She was pretty upfront about how she thought she owned him, like anyone could own a person, and she certainly didn’t treat him as an equal. Still, being able to talk would make this situation a whole lot more bearable, depending on what her conditions were. 
“Basically, I just want you to cooperate and be honest with me, and those sort of go hand in hand. If I ask you something, I want you to answer it, and I want you to tell the truth. If something’s bothering you, I want you to speak up.” Erebus made a face at that one. He had a very long list of things that were bothering him, and he doubted she’d take the collar off him or let him go just because he asked. She chuckled. “No, I can’t guarantee I’ll fix whatever it is, but I do want to make you as comfortable as possible within what I want. There’s no harm in asking though, because the worst thing that’ll happen is I say no. And if I messed up a procedure in some way and it hurts or something feels off, I need you to tell me. So can you agree to do that?”
Erebus considered it for a moment and then nodded. He didn’t have much of a choice, and he’d gladly voice his thoughts and complaints if it meant he’d have the ability to do so again. Neteri smiled and gave his head a final pat before getting up and putting her glove back on. He felt her pull another strap over his forehead, tight enough that he couldn’t move it at all. Despite his best efforts to remain calm, his breathing started to quicken again. He hated being immobilized on a table like this; he was just so completely helpless and vulnerable. She could do whatever she wanted to him and he would just have to lie here and take it. Neteri noticed and gave him a sympathetic look.
“You’re still nervous, huh?” Erebus tried to nod, but the strap around his head prevented it, so he bit his lip and looked away. He wanted his tongue back, but...he wasn’t exactly excited to have her messing around inside his mouth again, and he doubted it was going to be painless. “Well…” Neteri thought for a moment, looking around her lab. Her gaze landed on something he couldn’t see, and when she returned to his line of vision, she was holding a small jar and a brush. “I don’t know how much this will help, but it’s all I can think of, so hopefully it’s good enough.” Erebus’s fear gave way to confusion as she climbed up onto the table, standing over him. She started to paint something on the ceiling, but, upon realizing he could kind of see up her skirt, Erebus squeezed his eyes shut. At one point she planted a foot on his chest, probably in an effort to reach higher up, and he couldn’t help but cough at the extra weight. “Gah, you messed me up. Oh well, he has a little scar now I guess.” 
When he felt her step down off the table, he opened his eyes again to see that she had painted...something...on the ceiling. It just looked like a potato with ears and a tail. And a beady little eye with a splash of paint under it, likely from when she stepped on his chest. At first he was sort of confused as to what the purpose of the strange drawing was, but the longer he stared at it, the cuter it looked. Its simplicity was sort of endearing, and soon he found himself enjoying the sight of the round little rat. Wait, was he really being comforted by a stupid little drawing on the ceiling when Neteri was about to operate on him? Though...it was all he was going to get, wasn’t it?
Seeming to think he’d calmed enough, Neteri pried his mouth open and shoved some sort of rubber block between the teeth on one side of his mouth, forcing him to keep his jaw open wide. Holy Drottkia, she was starting, it was happening, there was a knife moving towards his mouth. He whined and tried to keep still as she made an incision along the stump of his tongue. He figured it was probably to make the reattachment easier, but the reminder of the pain he’d felt when she cut it out the first time was enough to bring tears to his eyes. No, no, this was going to fix it, he would be able to talk again, this wasn’t that day all over again.
At the sensation of something cold pressing against the wound, and Erebus couldn’t help but feel a little spark of elation. He really was getting his tongue back. But as Neteri started her healing spell, he realized the operation was far from over. Both of her hands were in his mouth, healing magic lighting everything ablaze. The feeling of his tongue was starting to come back, each nerve reattaching with an agonizing spark, every pain circuit firing all at once. He tried his best not to scream, but it was difficult not to with his mouth stuck open like this. After what seemed like an eternity, the magic finally stopped flowing. Neteri pulled her hands, and the rubber block, out of his mouth, allowing him to close his aching jaw. Having a tongue in his mouth again felt so strange, even if he had only been without it for two days. Neteri opened his mouth again, gently examining his tongue one last time before nodding and stepping back. 
“Okay, it looks good! So just...go ahead and talk. About whatever. I need to see if it works right, you know?” Erebus opened his mouth, but his mind drew a blank. What was he supposed to say after...that? Neteri looked at him quizzically. “Is something wrong? Does it still hurt?”
“I…” Why couldn’t he think of anything to say?! He’d wanted nothing more than the freedom to voice his thoughts the past few days, but now that he could, he was coming up with nothing. In his defense, he hadn’t exactly been expecting her to ask him to monologue right away.
“Seriously, Erebus, you can say whatever you want. I really don’t care. If you want to yell at me and tell me how much you hate me, feel free! I won’t, like, punish you or anything. And I’m not one of those people who’s like ‘I said I wouldn’t punish you but I was lying and you should know better’ or whatever, that’s so dumb. I’m not here for mind games, I’m here for body games.” There was a pause. “That came out wrong. Incredibly wrong. I don’t mean-”
“Shut up.” The words bubbled up out of nowhere, and he let them come. “You never shut up, and you’re so…awkward. Enough that half the time, I wasn’t sure what I would even say if I could talk. And now that I can, I don’t even know what to say. I mean, there’s been a lot I’ve wanted to say over these past two days, but I don’t remember any of them, because what the hell-?” Erebus stopped, suddenly realizing what he’d just said and who he’d said it to. He felt himself go red as he cautiously glanced at Neteri.
For a moment, he couldn’t read her expression at all, but a smile soon crept across her face, and before he knew it she was laughing uncontrollably. “Oh-hahaha-oh man, Erebus, Erebus, you,” she paused in an attempt to stop her laughter, “I was worried you weren’t going to be able to be honest with me, what with you having been a prince and all, but that was just-” she giggled one last time and took a deep breath, “it was unexpected. Good, but not what I expected out of you at all what with your sad little eyes.”
“I-I don’t have sad little ey-”
“Yeah, you do,” Neteri cut him off as she unbuckled the strap around his head. “But for real, how does it feel? Talking doesn’t hurt, does it?”
“It...feels fine. Talking feels normal, and it doesn’t hurt at all, but it just feels kind of...different? I didn’t think I’d forget what my own tongue felt like, but I guess I must have.” He ran it over his teeth. Something was definitely off, it felt rougher somehow.
“Well, seeing as that isn’t your tongue, that’s not exactly shocking.”
“Not my...wait, what?!”
“Yeah that’s part of the tongue of a gluttony demon. You didn’t think I was going to just put yours back, did you? What would have been the point of cutting it off in the first place?”
“What’s the point of putting a-a demon tongue in its place though?”
“Erebus,” she leaned down over him and placed a hand on his cheek, “I’m just going to tell you right now, you’re gonna have to get used to it. Because it’s only going to get worse from here.”
Next→
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kaunis-sielu · 3 years
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Naja: 7
Bucky decides to go to the police with his suspicions about Brock. You convince him that his weight as a bodyguard is enough and to leave you out of it. A police station in any country for any reason isn’t exactly somewhere you’re going to be comfortable.
You go back to the resort, the group had decided not to continue after Sharon’s accident and when you get to your room you flip open your computer and quickly hack into the hospital’s system and search for information on Sharon. You really should kill him, pro Bono for Sharon, she’d seemed like a nice girl. Her file says she’s unconscious but stable, that things are looking pretty good right now. Next you get into the hotel’s system, for a tech genius Stark’s system is fairly easily to break into, you search for Brock and Sharon’s room. They’re two floors beneath you in the same tower but closer to the elevator. You go to the cameras on their floor and rewind. If he’s back you might go visit him, a knock interrupts and you shut your computer down then go cautiously to the door. Peering out the peephole you see Bucky standing in the hallway, his hands in his pockets.
“Hey,” you say after pulling the door open.
“Hi Doll. Just wanted to check on you. See how you were doing.”
“I’m okay. I wish we knew if Sharon was okay.”
“I told police to let me know.” Bucky says and you gesture him into the room. He comes in and you lock the door behind him.
“How did you manage that one?”
“Just asked, a lot of times cops will work with me a bit because of my job.”
“That’s handy.” He nods, “did you eat dinner?”
“No, you?”
“I was gonna order room service. I didn’t feel like being around a bunch of people tonight.” You tell him and he glances up at you.
“I can go if you want.”
“If I didn’t want to see you I wouldn’t have invited you in.” You tell him, “are you okay?”
“Did he threaten you?”
“No, why?”
“You already had the knife in your hand when I came into the room.”
“I thought I’d just spoiled his murder attempt. I didn’t know what he’d do, he tried to kill the woman he loved. What might he do to me?” You say softly wrapping your arms around yourself. Bucky makes his way slowly toward you and opening his arms to you, you move into him.
“You’re sure that you’re okay?”
He asks and you hum softly holding tightly to him, like you think a scared girlfriend might do. You stay like that, it’s actually really nice in his embrace, you feel safe which is so stupid, you don’t need him to protect you. But he could. You tip your head back and look up at him, Bucky looks down at you with a soft smile.
“So, dinner?” You ask and he nods, you move away from him almost immediately missing the warmth. After you order you head out to the balcony, you sit together on one of the long reclining chairs. Bucky had almost seemed surprised when you’d joined him settling in between his legs. You stay there until the dinner arrives then after eating you end right back in his lap. You talk for a while, before turning toward him, he’s so handsome with those bright blue eyes and sharp jaw that you find yourself kissing him softly.
“What was that for?” He asks quietly, one hand curled around the back of your head.
“You’re so handsome, and kind and fun. I just, I’m glad you’ve stuck around.” You tell him suddenly embarrassed, you go to pull away when he snakes his other arm around you.
“Oh no, you don’t get to make a sweet confession like that and then just runaway.”
“I wasn’t running away. This is my room.” You protest and he chuckles,
“I know a runner when I see one.” He says softly resting his forehead against yours. “I’m gonna kiss you now darlin, and it’s not going to be for any reason other than I want to.” He does exactly that, and as many times as you’ve kissed him before this feels different, he’s not trying to convince anyone of anything. It’s purely because he wants you, and you want him. You pull away suddenly remembering who you’re currently making out with, you stare at him before standing and holding a hand out to him. He takes it, neither of you speak as he stands and follows you back into your room. When you bring him to the bedroom he pauses at the door.
“Are you sure?” He asks quietly and you raise an eyebrow at him.
“If you’re not comfortable-“
“No,” he cuts you off, “no I just don’t want you to think that I expected this.”
“Bucky, I want you.” You say softly, “I want to make you feel so good Bucky.” You purr and he groans lowly as you slowly undo his pants.
“Wait, wait.” He huffs grasping your wrists, “condom?”
“I have some.” You grab the box from your bag and toss it to him and he fishes out a condom before handing it back to you where you just drop it on the floor and yank his lips back to yours. He laughs against your mouth as he kisses you back, you feel his hands on your ass scooping you up off your feet. You break away from him with a surprised laugh, he grins at you then before you curl an arm around his neck and you press your lips back to his.
He makes you breathless and a little dizzy and wonderful. Bucky lowers you both down, a knee on the bed before his body covers yours pinning you between him and the bed.
“You’re so beautiful.” He murmurs against your skin as he kisses down your neck. You pull his shirt off and he pulls away to pull it over his head. You yank off your dress and throw it somewhere on the floor as he shoves off his bottoms then completely naked turns his attention to you. “I’m gonna make you feel so good sweetheart.” He growls and your stomach flutters.
“All talk no action Barnes.” You tease and he covers your body with his again.
“You think you’re so funny don’t you?”
“I know I’m funny.” You correct and he hums softly, kissing the swell of your breasts before unhooking your bra.
“Well then I guess I’ll just have to give you that action you’re asking for.” He says and before you can come up with some snarky response he’s making you feel just like he said he would.
So good.
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unmistakablyunknown · 3 years
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From The Ashes {07}
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Chapter Seven: Did You Miss Me?
[Previous]
Description: In less than a good mood, Andi turns up for shift. Towards the end of the shift an unwanted guest makes an appearance at the Firehouse and throws everything into question about who Andi is. Kelly tries his hardest to make sense of what happened.
Word Count: 2, 776 (A short one, sorry :))
Warning(s): strong language, canon-typical gore/violence, minor physical injury, brief mention of a panic attack, appearance of a toxic ex, Andi can’t catch a break, mentions of restraining order, a single reference to previous suicide attempts
                                                        -/-/-
“Ah, good morning, Candidate,” Herrmann greeted as they crossed paths on the way into the Firehouse.
“Hey, mornin’ Herrmann.” It was blatantly obvious that something was amiss. Andi stopped at the door when he stepped between them.
“What happened?” He nodded subtly to Andi’s right hand, which was lightly dressed. Beneath the bandage, the cut across her palm throbbed slightly. To try and stem it, she clenched her fist and put her hand into her jacket pocket.
“Nothing, just a small kitchen accident last night. Nothing serious,” she bluffed with a reassuring smile. He seemed to buy it, thankfully. The conversation ended there and the two of them entered the apparatus floor, keen to start the day.
As soon as she could, Andi began working on breakfast whilst everyone else arrived and unwrapped in the warmth of the common room. She’d decided to do omelettes for everyone and that seemed to go over well for the rest of the group. Whilst everyone ate, Andi tried her hardest to stifle a string of yawns and hide the obvious signs that she’d had next to no sleep.
After the breakfast things had been cleared, Andi kept herself busy by taking baskets of laundry to and from the laundry room for anyone that needed it. The more she could move about the better. It wasn’t until she’d made her third trip into the laundry room that she turned and slammed into Kelly, which sent them both stumbling slightly. The current basket fell from her arms and 
“I’m sorry -”
“Sorry about that -” Both of them crouched to retrieve the laundry that had jumped from the basket when it had hit the floor. Her minor injury was hard to ignore as they returned articles of clothing to the plastic basket. All she could do was hope that Kelly didn’t question it.
Of course, she was wrong in her assumption.
“What did you do to your hand?”
“Kitchen accident,” she stated simply, not wanting to offer any more explanation than that. Unfortunately for her, Kelly didn’t take the hint.
“C’mon, really? I’ve seen you in the kitchen, you’re not that clumsy. Why don’t you level with me?” With a heavy sigh, Andi stood up and dusted herself off. Not in the mood for an argument.
“You want me to level with you? Fine. For the last month and a half, I’ve been sleeping with a knife under my pillow because my crazy ex-girlfriend is back and stalking me. Last night, I thought someone was in my apartment so I reached under my pillow and caught the wrong end of the blade. Happy now?” It was obvious that the truth had surprised him, but Andi didn’t give him the chance to ask any questions. Simply turned and hurried out of the laundry room, back to the apparatus floor. 
“Ambulance Sixty-One, Truck Fifty-One, Rescue Squad Three and Battalion Twenty-Five. House fire -” The alarm signalled overhead. Andi hurried over to her turn-out gear and climbed into the cab as everyone else caught up and they rolled out.
The scene was a nightmare. The house was well and truly ablaze and neighbours scrambled around to try and help in any way that they could without getting in the company’s way. Andi was paired with Mouch and Herrmann to survey the ground floor and basement. With their SCBA masks firmly in place, they entered the burning house with their assignments at the forefront of their minds.
“I can take the basement if that’s okay with you guys?” 
“G’head, but keep in touch,” Herrmann agreed with a nod before he and Mouch split to the kitchen and lounge. Andi descended the basement stairs into a room full of almost black smoke. She was careful on her way down not to trip or risk walking into anything until she reached the bottom of the wooden stairs.
“Ramirez, how’s it looking down there?”
“Nothing so far, I’ll keep you updated,” she assured Herrmann as she pushed further into the underbelly of the house. Andi spotted something near the back of the basement, under one of the windows.
“Fire Department! Call out!” No reply came. Through the smoke, the closer she got, the more obvious it became that what she had seen was a pile of paint cans under a tarp.
“This is Ramirez, the basement is clear. Heading out now,” Andi informed the rest of the company over her radio before she began to make her way back to the stairs. Above her, the house groaned and the fire roared. The smoke grew heavier and hotter the closer she got to the staircase.
Andi made it almost halfway up the stairs when one of them snapped. She fell and her foot was trapped in the splintered wood. Though it stung, she didn’t think any serious damage had been done. She was just stuck.
“Guys, the stairs collapsed, it’s snagged my ankle and I can’t move. I’m stuck.”
“Okay, Ramirez, stay calm and sit tight,” Casey’s voice instructed calmly over her radio. Andi managed to lean on the next step up with her arms to take some of the weight off her feet, in hopes of minimising the chances that she’d fall through completely. Despite her efforts to free her foot, the more she moved, the more the rest of the stairs threatened to crumble beneath her.
“Hey, Ramirez -” Kelly appeared at the top of the stairs, surrounded by more smoke and the bright orange glow of the flames “- Grab ahold of this!” A line of webbing was thrown towards her and she hurried to secure it around her wrist. With several well-planned pulls, Andi was finally able to crawl up the stairs until she was a step away from Kelly.
“You okay?”
“I can’t really put any weight on my ankle. The fall must’ve jarred it,” Andi explained as she limped slightly. She was surprised that he didn’t make a remark or crack a joke about her habit of getting herself into tricky situations. Instead, he simply put one of her arms over his shoulders and helped her through the house to the front door.
“Anyone would think you can’t be left unsupervised,” Shay remarked as Andi was handed over to her. Carefully, her boot was removed and the leg of her bunkers was rolled up. Her ankle was bruised a reddish-purple.
“Ha. You’re funny, Shay.” Though the comment had meant to come out as biting and sarcastic, Andi couldn’t help the hiss of pain that passed her lips gave it all away.
“Don't worry, it’s just bruising. It should be okay with an ice pack and a couple of painkillers,” the blonde paramedic assured her as she wrapped Andi’s ankle. She was beyond embarrassed. Somehow, of all the firefighters at 51, she seemed to be the only one to consistently get herself in trouble and in need of help.
“Just, take it easy, okay, Andi?”
“Sure, I promise.” After that, she helped out as best as she could to put the fire out and pack up. 
Back at the Firehouse, Casey had subtly suggested that she stayed in-house for the rest of the shift, to avoid damaging her ankle any more. Though she hated the idea of letting Truck down, she had to take the loss with a pinch of salt.
“Trust me, Ramirez, you’re worth more to us in one piece,” he assured her with a smile as she was dismissed. Despite the order to take care of herself, she insisted on continuing the lighter-duty chores that weren’t so strenuous.
Whilst in the middle of sweeping out the apparatus floor, Andi noticed a car pull up to the curb. She didn’t recognise the plates and she couldn’t see the driver through the tinted windows. As Squad came down to inhabit their table near the back, Andi became acutely aware of the car’s presence.
She tried to shake it off and momentarily left the apparatus floor to fetch a mop and bucket full of hot, soapy water. Andi exchanged pleasant smiles with everyone she passed, but the unease didn’t leave her. When she returned to the apparatus floor, the car was still there, parked and not running. Andi tried to distract herself, so she started at the far corner, behind the trucks and ambulance in hopes of getting that feeling off her chest.
“- Can I help you?” Kelly’s voice questioned from the table, Andi barely paid attention until the reply came.
“Sure hope so, I’m looking for Andi Ramirez.” Her blood ran cold. She stopped mopping and moved to hide behind the Squad truck. Andi stood on the footplates and peered through the windows to confirm her fears. As soon as the familiar blonde head of hair came into view, she dropped back to the floor and swallowed rising bile. With her arms crossed, Andi let out a long sigh before she stepped around the end of the truck, into view of the unwanted visitor.
“What are you doing here?” The hostility in her voice was plain for everyone to hear. Josslyn simply laughed it off and flicked her hair over her shoulder.
“Oh, Angel, why aren’t you happy to see me?”
“Because I have a restraining order against you? Because you’ve been harassing me since I started working here? Or because you’re the vilest and most venomous woman I know? Do you want me to carry on or have I made my point?” Josslyn tutted and shook her head with a pout.
“I don't like this attitude, Angel. I think I deserve a bit more respect than that -”
“What you deserve is to be arrested and thrown in jail. Did you not hear the part about the restraining order?”
“I see you’ve hurt yourself,” she nodded to Andi’s hand, completely ignoring what she had said.
“Kitchen accident,” Andi lied through gritted teeth, “Nothing serious.”
“Well, thank God for that. I’d hate for you to have seriously injured yourself.” At this point, Kelly and the other members of Squad 3 stood up and moved to stand behind Andi in solidarity.
“Josslyn, you’re not welcome here. You never will be,” Andi stated simply with a shrug. It infuriated her how unflinching her ex-girlfriend was being.
“Don't break my heart, Angel. You seem to have forgotten that if it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t be who you are today. You should be grateful.”
“Grateful? For what? The fact that you drove me to try and kill myself not once, but twice in the space of a year? That you cut me off from my family? Or that you filled me with toxicity and self-hate at the age of nineteen?”
“You were young and needed -”
“Look me in the eye and tell me I deserved it all. I dare you. You spent five years abusing me and made it out to everyone else that I was the problem,” Andi cut her off to finish what she was saying. With every syllable, she’d found herself becoming more and more wound up. Knowing that the guys of Squad 3 had her back made the situation slightly easier to cope with.
“Angel, I’m not asking for forgiveness -”
“Good. Because you’re not gonna get it.” That seemed to be the tipping point for Josslyn. She narrowed her eyes and tipped her head slightly.
“This isn’t over, Andi. You’ll see me again soon enough.” With a semi-dramatic turn and hair flip, Josslyn finally left. As soon as her car was out of sight, the realisation of what had happened came crashing down on her.
“Andi? Are you alright?” Severide’s words rang in her ears as her chest tightened uncomfortably. Andi’s head spun and her vision blurred slightly.
“No - yeah, I’m fine. Excuse me.” Before any more questions could be asked, she made a break for the bathrooms. Thankful to find them empty, Andi locked herself in a cubicle and proceeded to fall apart.
                                                      -/-/-
The next day was officially Thanksgiving. Despite the fact that Andi had been too busy to find someone to bring along to her parents Orphan Thanksgiving meal, she remained fairly optimistic that it’d be a nice night in the company of her family. Or, part of her family at least. She hoped to distract her mother by bringing a bunch of fresh flowers to decorate the front windowsill.
In front of her mirror, fresh from her shower, Andi picked a simple outfit. A burgundy dress that had a flowy, knee-length skirt with her leather jacket and a pair of comfy Vans on her feet. After she’d dried and styled her hair, she applied a light covering of makeup. Kept it equally simple with just some tinted lip balm, mascara, eyeliner and a little concealer under her eyes.
Whilst she waited for the hour to approach in her living room, her phone began to ring on the coffee table. Confused, she checked the caller ID and accepted the call.
“Gabby?”
“Hey! Andi, how are you? Have you left for your parent’s restaurant yet?” The question made her raise an eyebrow, but she went along with it all the same.
“Not yet. I was going to leave in about fifteen minutes. Why?”
“Oh, no reason. And it’s called The Little Greek Restaurant, right? Out on Main?”
“Yeah. Gabby, what’s going on -”
“Nothing! Have a nice night. Love you, bye!” Gabby hung up before Andi could ask any more questions. Confused, she decided to head out earlier than planned. The drive over was easy, though she assumed that was because everyone was already at home with their loved ones and had little reason to leave. She made it to her parent’s restaurant in plenty of time, so Andi parked up and took a moment to prepare herself.
When Andi finally gathered the nerve to get out of her car and walk into the restaurant, the mouth-watering aromas of food being cooked greeted her at the door. Her mother appeared with a mile-wide smile and a hug strong enough to crush the bones of even the strongest man.
“Mitéra, please, you saw me last weekend!” Andi exclaimed as her mother fussed over her hair and pinched her cheeks with a grin. Close behind, her father appeared with the same open-armed gesture.
“Sweetheart! That doesn’t mean we can’t miss you when you’re not here, hm?”
“Alright, alright. Hey, Mitéra, these are for you.” Andi handed over the bouquet of flowers and her mother disappeared excitedly, muttering about a vase to put them in. Near the top of the long table, Andi spied Chelsea and her fiance. As well as a couple of the staff kids that took up a few chairs near the middle. Behind her, the door opened and the overhead bell jingled.
Andi turned to the sound of voices. What she was greeted with, was beyond a surprise. Looking back at her were the smiling faces of Firehouse 51. Everyone had turned up with partners and kids of their own, a little windswept, but all in the holiday mood. Herrmann, Cindy and their four kids, Mouch with Sergeant Platt, even Shay had a date with her.
“Andromeda, who are they?” her father questioned nosily as they all began shuffling forward.
“Bampás, these are my friends from Firehouse Fifty-One -”
“Fifty-One always shows up,” Herrmann spoke with a puff of pride in his chest. A round of laughter passed in agreement.
“Well, you did say the more, the merrier, Candidate,” Otis joked and that’s when her mother came rushing back. Both her parents seemed delighted to have so many people to feed on a night like tonight.
As they all sat themselves down and got comfortable, Andi couldn’t help but notice that Severide was sat directly across from her. Instead of making a fuss about it, she simply bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself quiet. It was then that she realised that no one at 51 had actually seen all of her tattoos exposed in the way they were right now. No one brought it up, but she could feel a few eyes taking in the impressive tapestry of ink on her skin as introductions were made.
Once names had been shared and glasses had been filled, her father stood at the head of the table and raised his glass of wine with a broad smile.
“Yamas!” he exclaimed and everyone repeated it back to him. The sound of glasses tapping together rang in the air. As the first course was brought out to them, Andi looked up from her plate to catch a glimpse of Kelly staring at her before he turned away. Despite the awkwardness between them, the atmosphere was good and the food was even better.
-/-/-
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Satisfied, Part 34
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~~~
A week later, she was waiting for patrols to start for the night. Her leather jacket and boots had come in, but they would only be of use for another few nights at this rate. The purple had reached her shoulders and knees.
Good thing she’d come up with a plan! She’d gone to a Halloween store and bought the most realistic Ladybug outfit she could find. It was pretty good, the only difference was that it was far easier to damage, but she could work with that.
Now, though, as the sun began to set in a beautiful scene, she was given the bad news: she was going to be working with Robin until they got along.
She laid back on the edge of the building, letting one leg hang over the side lazily. She rested her hands on her stomach and pressed her ear against the concrete so she didn’t have to move.
“Seriously, Bats? I don’t want to work with him.”
“Too bad. You and him need to get along better so you can actually have each other’s backs if need be.”
She huffed. “It’s not like I’d let him die. Maybe get roughed up a bit but that’s not my problem.”
“That’s not the most heroic thing to say,” said Nightwing.
She scoffed. “Well, who asked you, Dick?”
The silence on the comms stretched and she realized her mistake. She laughed awkwardly as her brain scrambled for an excuse. At least his was the easiest name to play off as a coincidence: “Sorry, was there a no swearing rule? I didn’t know.”
She could almost feel their sighs of relief even if she didn’t actually hear or see them.
Bats cleared his throat. “Right, well, there is one. Anyways, this is nonnegotiable. You’re working together. Stop complaining.”
She huffed and lifted her ear up a bit so she could curse him out without getting in trouble. Then she pushed herself up to a sitting position and closed her eyes as she waited for Robin to get there.
She rested her chin on her knee and hummed to herself.
A hand rested on her shoulder and she nearly fell over the side of the building. If they hadn’t been fast enough to catch her arm, she probably would have.
She sent Robin a glare. "You could be careful, you know,” she muttered as she got to her feet.
He crossed his arms. “Could be, yes. Just be glad I didn’t let you fall like I wanted to,” he said.
“Right, right. C’mon, we might as well get this over with.”
He rolled his eyes and shook his head slightly. “What do my brothers see in you?”
Marinette smiled cheekily. “You didn’t say that when you were drunk.”
His face reddened. “Because I was drunk, you can hardly count that against me!”
“Really? A lot of people say that you find out a person’s ‘true self’ when they’re drunk.”
“A lot of people are idiots,” he said with a hop to the next building.
She snickered and followed after him.
They jumped from rooftop to rooftop in relative silence. They both knew that arguing would only keep them distracted, they’d be more likely to miss something that was happening. As much as their presences annoyed each other, they still took their job seriously. They had to, this wasn’t something that they could allow to go wrong.
~
Their first fight together had... not gone well.
They’d won, sure, the criminals were in jail.
But...
She groaned as she pressed a soda can to the side of her head. It wasn’t going to help the bruising, but at least it felt a little better. “This is your fault,” she hissed.
He gave her an incredulous look before kneeling down to take a jar of honey off the shelf. “My fault? You’re the one who jumped in without going over a plan first!”
“Oh really? You thought you were going to think of a plan before Flamethrower-guy burned that family to a crisp?”
She plucked the honey from his hands and put it back.
He sent her a glare, only to raise his eyebrows as she grabbed his good arm. She pulled him through the store despite his protests.
She looked around for a while until she found petroleum jelly, bandaging, and a towel. She went to the bathroom and wet the towel.
He stared at her as she handed it over.
“It’ll help with the burns.”
He frowned and, with a small hiss of pain, wrapped the towel around his arm.
“Apply petroleum jelly a few times a day and make sure to always use sterile bandaging,” she said.
“You know a lot about this.”
She took a glance at all the people around them. They were still in costume, so it wasn’t a surprise that they were staring and taking pictures. She posed for a camera and then turned to answer him. “I have a lot of experiences with burns,” she said, which sounded a lot cooler than ‘I lived in a bakery’.
He gave a small laugh. They grabbed a bit of pain medication and went to the front.
He paid. Mostly because he was the only one who actually could get to their wallet in their costume, but also because he was rich.
“Thanks for the help,” he said awkwardly.
She sighed. “It’s whatever. C’mon. We still have a while for patrols.”
~
She raised her eyebrow at him as he pointed out a convenience store. She squinted to see better, but everything seemed fine. “Is there a robbery?”
He shook his head and hopped down from the roof. “Nope. Food!”
“No!” She hissed as she followed after him.
Apparently saying ‘no’ was not enough to deter him, because they’d ended up with two bags of chips and two coffees. She sent him a glare as she sipped at her drink.
“Whaaaat? I’m making sure we keep our energy up,” he said with a cheeky smile.
“How are you even skinny?”
“Says the scrawny baker’s daughter.”
She rolled her eyes and pulled a bag of chips from his hands. “You’re lucky any complaints I give to Bats would just be interpreted as us fighting again.”
“Yep.”
~
She’d unfortunately figured out the answer to a question she’d had. She touched a hand to the shallow cut on her stomach. She’d dodged the knife pretty well, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t painful. She could deal with the pain, the problem was...
The knife had cut through her costume like butter.
She zipped up her leather jacket and sent Robin a grin as he picked up the criminal for them.
“Are you alright?”
She blinked once. “What?”
“You zipped up your jacket. You wouldn’t do that unless you wanted to hide an injury, it’s too tacky for you.”
She scoffed, but after a while of him glaring at her she reluctantly opened her jacket to show him the cut. It wasn’t bad, barely even bleeding. Still, he reached into his tool belt and handed over some bandages.
She tried to hand them back over but he’d threatened to knock her out and do it himself. So, however reluctantly, Marinette ended up taking care of herself. It was a miracle.
~
She hummed as she tied off the criminal under her foot. “You still choreograph your moves too much.”
Robin scoffed as he picked up his own, who was knocked out cold. “Shut up, you Nightwing wannabe.”
She threw a rock at him, only for him to laugh.
~
A grin tugged at her lips as he hopped over to her, holding up two hotdogs. “Best food in Gotham.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’ve eaten my pastries, haven’t you?”
He smirked and handed one over. “I have. Still the best food in Gotham.”
Marinette stuck her tongue out at him as she took it. “So mean,” she whined.
He shrugged. “Eat one and say I’m wrong.”
She bit down...
Okay. It was pretty good. Amazing, even. Didn’t mean she still couldn’t be bitter.
He laughed when she didn’t say anything and rested an arm around her shoulders. “Told you.”
She huffed.
“Your food is still a close second, though.”
She couldn’t help the smile that broke across her face. “I’ll teach you to make some. Your brothers didn’t do great but there might still be hope for you.”
He snickered. “I heard about that. How bad was it?”
She shuddered and didn’t say anything, which was a pretty good response in itself.
~
He stopped suddenly and held a hand out to stop her. She gave him an annoyed glance before following his gaze. A man was being mugged in the alley below them.
The two vigilantes locked eyes and she tipped her head to the side. An unspoken understanding passed between them and they nodded in unison.
She dropped down behind the mugger silently. She reached out and tapped him on the shoulder.
They whipped around and she gave him a brilliant smile, waving. “Hello, monsieur,” she chirped, her eyes finding their way to his gun hand. Their hand had fallen slightly in their surprise. Good.
He looked confused for a moment.
Then she socked him.
He stumbled back a step, his hands coming up to touch his definitely broken nose. She didn’t give him a chance, grabbing the gun in his hand and twisting until he had no choice but to let go.
She smirked when he did so. However, much to her surprise, he didn’t stop fighting to nurse his definitely aching arm. He threw a punch to her face and she jumped back.
The gun clattered to the floor between them.
The two eyed each other warily for a beat before making a mad grab for the weapon.
Their fingers fumbled over the gun for a second and she reeled back in slight shock as a punch blindsided her.
The mugger stood over her, a gun pointed at her chest.
Her breath caught in her throat. She shut her eyes tight, her hands coming up to cover her face. Not again no no no please no --!
Something wrapped around her wrist. A small jerking motion and a bit of pain and then...
Weightlessness.
A gunshot could be heard behind her. Then another two, further and further away.
She crashed into a body and they both went sprawling, cursing as they skid over the ground.
They both groaned in pain and she sighed as she pushed herself up to a sitting position, rubbing her head. Robin groaned and sat up a bit as well, his eyes unfocused.
“Did we win?”
She sighed. “Not yet. Thanks for the save. You got the civvie away right?”
He gave a nod. This could have been to confirm he understood they hadn’t yet won, acknowledging her thanks, or to say that he had in fact gotten the civilian to safety. She opened her mouth to ask --.
There was a click from above them and they looked up to see the man, who was pointing his gun between them.
The two vigilantes glanced at each other warily. They weren’t in much of a position to fight, dazed and on the ground like they were, and she couldn’t help the anxiety building in her chest the longer the gun was pointed at her.
She knew what Robin was going to do before he’d done it. Her hand came out to stop him, but she was too late.
(Tw: murder)
He darted forward.
A gunshot rang out.
And then another.
And another.
Robin fell back to her side as her eyes found his. His mouth moved but she couldn’t hear it above the ringing in her ears. He reached out and gave her a little squeeze.
And then his arm went limp.
She swallowed thickly, her hand reached out and she gave his shoulder a little shake. “Robin?”
Nothing.
Marinette rounded on the criminal and pushed herself to her feet. He’d run out of shots, she knew it. That was six, he was out. Her hand went to her yoyo...
The man was beneath her, blood darkening what little scraps remained of his clothes. Her eyes found their way to the polka-dotted dagger in her hands and she felt bile build in her throat as she came to realize that most of the black polka-dots were coated in red.
She pushed herself off of the man quickly.
She’d never... why did this one affect her so badly? She’d seen her people massacred but she’d never... Even when Chat had died she’d still been able to keep mostly calm and win normally, so why...
She looked at her hands, which were still slick with blood.
Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t...
Her eyes found their way to the lucky charm she’d summoned.
“Miraculous ladybug,” she whispered.
(Tw over. Robin died, she killed someone, use Miraculous ladybug to fix it)
She didn’t even wait for the ladybugs to fully disappear before wrapping Robin in a hug. “Never do something like that again.”
He didn’t respond, only giving her a short squeeze before pushing her off and walking to the criminal.
The man was wheezing and clutching his chest. Of course he was. Even if Miraculous Ladybug could repair all the physical damage done during a fight...
No one ever forgot how they died.
He picked up her yoyo from where she’d dropped it and used it to tie up the criminal.
They carried them to the police station in silence.
~~~
“I won’t work on this because I have schoolwork to do today” yea so that was a lie apparently
~
Taglist
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zuffer-weird-girl · 3 years
Text
Run run lost boy...
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Living on the streets was definitely like living on hell.
Being kicked out and threaten to death after the... incident; Chisaki had no idea what to do... an cursed orphan could little to provide himself on a sick world like this... Heroes didn't even looked at him. Why would they? What importance would it give to them to help a abandoned dirty child on the streets?
He was alone and he accepted that quite easily for his dismay... after all. He has been alone as far as he could remember.
His feet were so sore... walking bare foot on the hot street and occasionally grass from parks let his skin all itchy and with bubbles.... yet he couldn't stop. He knew the risks of being a minor and walking alone... only God could provide his safety if there was even one... maybe he was abandoned by him as well...
His stomach growled as he hissed. Supporting himself on a wall of an alley to rub at his tummy... to his horror, his bones were staring to peak out under his shirt...
The last time he had eaten were hours before his quirk had activated for the very first time... and it had been days already. His eyes burned at the pain yet no tear came... he couldn't. He showed weakness once and look at what happened.
The boy only clenched his grip on the bare skin of his tummy and continued to walk.
A man walking on a bike shouted and he dodged quickly as he saw it with wide eyes the man shouting obscenities to him... His gaze travelled from the path the biker had took and his golden orbs gleamed at seing the huge street market.
His interested got the best of him and he could only gulp loudly as his feet carried his frail body to the market.
Dodging ocassionaly adults and disobedient whiny childs who begged for a toy or a pantry.
He stared at the place in wonder until he flinched at hearing a man shouting at the owner of some stand... The man hitted his hand harshly on the table and it happened to fall a onigiri right in front of his feet.
He frowned at it before crouching down to pick between his bony hands as he stared at it.... it had just fell on the ground and it even got some dirt around it... but he was just so hungry and weak..  He knew better than complain about the only edible thing he had been gifted.
His mouth invonluarialy salivated when he opened hesitantly.... disgust present on his face... yet he closed his eyes tightly and took a huge bite out of it....
God, how long has it been since he eaten something to just feel goosebumps at swallowing a piece of food? He even let out a shaky sigh as his hands trembled and eaten the rest of the thing like a animal... not caring anymore if he could get sick or not... he had to eat something. Anything...
"Good eh?" He widened his eyes at the voice above him and gasped before tripping and falling on his butt on the floor.
The man was smoking a cigarette while smirking down at him with crossed arms. A cap covering half of his sweaty and greasy face.
"The money runt. If you get something you have to paid for it." He growled as Chisaki gulped.
"I... don't have-" he grunted and clenched at the rough hand whose grabbed him by the hem of his torn out shirt and lifted him up on the air.
"Now listen here you street rat! Or you pay now or I am going to cut your hands outta of that limb body for you to learn how to not steal from the others!" He shouted, getting the attention of a bunch of the people around... but no one did anything.
He cried for the man to let go, screamed, kicked his legs to try to get out... nothing worked. He pressed his hands against the man's arm and hand but it did nothing.
Why?! Why wouldn't it work when he needed?! Why his curse couldn't just work?! Why couldn't he control it...?!
Tears started to gather on his eyes as desperation and the man only shouted louder at him. Grabbing a knife nearby with his free hand as Kai only squirmed even more to try to get out of the man's grasp.
"LET GO-!"
"No one steal from my stand boy!" He shouted back before he stopped on his tracks when a toy made of wood hit his head. Distracted enough he let go of chisaki whose fell on the ground harshly.
"Why don't you mess with someone of your size?!" A child's voice shouted and he looked up to see a kid, around his age or younger with tears on her eyes as she curled her fists on her little hands...
"What is that?!" The man cursed, holding onto the side of his face where the toy made a little cut "Wanna get punished as well you little brat?!"
The girl widened her eyes in fear before she crouched and picked a rock. Throwing on another's man head whose immediatly demanded to know whose was it.
"Him!" You pointed at the man as Chisaki only blinked as the males started to argue before he felt someone grab his wrist and pull him up from the ground.
"Come on!" You shouted and started to run, pulling him along with you, just when the man noticed you two had run off.
"GET THOSE LITTLE THIEFS!"
He could hear the shouts but the only thing his body could do was run along with as his mind tries to process why the heck you did that?... why were you risking yourself with... him?
You pulled him to an alley and gasped when both of you saw the salespeople running after you both.
"Here!" You started to climb as he only could follow... it was better than a bunch of old man trying to beat you up for a onigiri...
You two reached the rooftop but he widened his eyes at seing one of sailors had quirk which teleported him and another had wings.
Just when one of the wings went to grab your arm, he slapped his hand away before a hero passed by and got him.
Although the other was running towards you two.
"Dammit..." he muttered before he saw you looking at the edge of the building before looking at him.
"On three we jump, okay?" You breathed out as he widened his eyes.
"Arw you nu-"
"THREE!" you grabbed his hand and jumped, both of you screaming before falling onto bags of trash which prevented your fall to hurt you both.
"Where are they?!" You two looked at each other and hearing the voices up above before you grabbed his hand and lead him to hide on a hole it ha don one of the walls of the alley.
"Look around! Pests like them cant had gotten that far!"
"Come on dude. Let it be..." you two heard it and you put your finger on your lips while looking at him as he breathed in and out to catch his air back.
"Fine! Such a fucking prejudice though..."
The voices were getting away and away before you poked your head out of you guys hidding spot and giggled before crawling your way out. Patting your clothes out of dirt you after extended your hand at the hole where he was still curled up.
"Here. They're gone now.." your voice was so... soft. Caring. Sweet... he rarely got to hear someone talking like that to him as he slowly and hesitantly crawled his way out... but never touching your hand.
"You're okay?" You tilted your head and went to brush your fingers in his bony arm but he stepped back while looking away.
"I'm fine..." you demonstrated for one second a look of hurt but soon it was replaced by a relieved smile.
"I'm glad!" He looked at you hesitantly and frowned at how kind you were being towards him... it was clear as day that he didn't had nothing to give back... what did you want it?
"You're still hungry... aren't you?" You frowned at him as he tsked.
"No-" his body betrayed him when a loud growl was heard by both of you... his cheeks flushed at the sound and it got worse when you stiffled your chuckles by your two small and healthy hands... so different from his ones.
"I am hungry too.. I can pick something that is not from the ground though." You montioned for him to come and before he knew you grabbed his hand on yours and pulled him.
He clenched his jaw tight but didn't muttered a single sound as you dragged him. He occasionally looked at how well dressed you were compared to him... disapproving and weird looks that both of you received.
You pushed a glass door, making a bell sound to echo in the air as he looked around a what it seemed like a bakery... the air was so warm and the aroma of breads and cakes filled the space as he ocassionaly sniffed and sighed in content...
It was such a clean place... the ground could even show his own reflection as he looked at it... the contrast of his dirty and bony self to a classic clean noble place was huge...
"Go sit!" You chirped while letting go of his hand... for some reason... he looked at his hand and holded it with his other one... it felt... wrong. He never was one of physical contact... yet, he felt more empty than usual when your warm hand let go of his cold one.
He rubbed at his hand and walked around until he found somewhere to seat...it was so comfy and soft compared to the streets and benches he had to sleep on...
His golden orbs were fixated on the table before looking up to see you standing on your tip toes, talking to an old man whose smiled down at you and handed you a bag.
You jumped your way towards him and sit down on his side with a smile. His face lowered as if he wanted to hide between his shoulder blades. You searched don the bag and got a nice and fluffly kind of bun and placed on his front on a paper.
"Its a milk bread! Takashi-san is the best on doing those!" You smiled as he frowned and slowly uncurled his legs and stared at the bread in front of him... occasionally poking hesitantly.
You giggled at the aprehensive look he gave to you before you put your hands on teh table and bounced.
"Go on!" You encourage as he pursued his lips together with a frown before hesitantly grabbing the piece of bread between hsi trembling hands as he sniffed... taking a little bite before hsi golden eyes widened at it.
You looked at him eating desperately as he chugged down bread after bread on his mouth... crumbs stuck on his face as he could only be described at the moment as a animal whose was finally eating the hunt he so long searched for.
After eating he let out a little burp making him blush red as you giggled.
"Hope that was enough.." you smiled as he stared at you with parted lips before returning to look at his lap as he fidget with his hands.
"Why.. why this?" He spoke quietly, his voice scratchy and hoarse... how long has it been since he had a normal conversation? He didn't know.
"This what?"
"... I can't pay back..." he mumbled while scracthing lightly his forearm, not daring to look up "Dont have... money for it."
"I just wanted to help-" You smiled before hesitantly putting your hand on his shoulder yet retreading as he flinched harshly na d stared at you like if you had burned him.
"Sorry." You mumbled sadly "You don't like others to touch you, right?"
He could only nod warily as you brought your legs up to sit on them.
"Sorry. I wont do it again." You smiled as he breathed in and out before slowly lowering his guard. "Do you... have a name?"
"... Chisaki." He mumbled, looking down "Chisaki Kai..."
"That's a nice name." You said and pointed at yourself with a big tootheless smile "I'm (L/n) (Y/n)! But call me (Y/n)."
He looked warily at you before gulping and reaching for your hand... his skin felt warm again at only getting closer as you let his bony hand touch yours to test the waters...
Your hands reached up at the height of your chests as he stared at it... how soft and how perfect it was how you rand his hand got together.
"(Y/n)..." he tested on his own little scratchy voice before he looked up at the bell ringing... two males in black yukatas entered and talked with the old man occasionally.
"Oh... the yakusa" you muttered as he snatched his hand back at noticing the heat coming back to his cheeks.
"Ya..yaku..?"
"The yakusa. The Shie Hassaikai." You muttered with a smile as you pointed at the two males receiving a package the old man gave to them. "Those are the lower rank I guess... Takashi-san told me once. They only come pick up what the "big guy" demands."
"Its a mafia." He mused out loud as you nodded.
"You know. Takashi-san raised me since my parents died on a accident because a hero was fighting a villain... they were on a building where he was threw off and... happened." You sighed as he looked at you.
His parents were terrible and even called the heroes on him... and the one who helped him had their parents taken away of them because of one.
What kind of justice is this..?
"The big guy helped Takashi-san to raise me so basically we own them lots!" You smiled as he nodded with a poker face.
"(Y/n)-chan." The old man came up and Chisaki flinched away and got down from the seat "I'm sorry, but we need to close... this friend of yours can't stay here."
"But-!" You heard a bell ringing and gasped at sieng that Chisaki had left and ran out of the store before you whined when Takashi grabbed your arm.
"Kai-kun!!" He stopped on his tracks and looked at you aprehensively as you wiggled on the old man's grasp. "I want to see you again! Can we?! Pleaseee???"
He widened his eyes at your words as a breeze of wind passed by as his dark brow looks flew... despite the wind... his frail amd bony body were warm and... fuzzy.
For the first time... the muscles of his face moved... his lip moved on his own and curled up...
He smiled for the first every time on his life...
He nodded and his face flushed when you squealed and waved at him as the old man laughed. He waited for you to enter the bakery to start to walk again... but that never happened.
Because this day aparently were teh day his butt was going to be sore because goddammit another one he tumbles over and falls back.
"Oh. I'm sorry kid." A older voice pronounced as he grunted and looked up... the sun made it difficult to see the man's face "What the.. the state you're in boy, where are your parents?"
The mere mention of them made him shiver and the man quickly noticed that.
"I see... got no place to call it home..." he furrowed his eyebrows and crouched down on his level as he looked up.
"Say..." he looked up amd saw the face of the man as he blinked "What's your name?"
.
.
Years passed by...
.
.
.
The screech Mimic lwt put was enough for him to flinch and messed up on his a signature he was doing it on one of the papers.
His eye twitched before he let out a breath and got up only to be stopped by seing you entering his office... beautiful as always.
"The precepts today were glad that I brought goods of the bakery." You giggled while he allowed himself to take his mask off to let out a chuff and to pinch his bare nose with his gloved hand.
"Grown up ass adults and you come by to leave breads and cakes... what a great partner for our Shie Hassaiakai."
"Oh hush." You pouted while putting the trail on the coffe table and huffing with your hands on your hips "I'm sorry that I cant be perfect for the all mighty future leader of the Hassaikai boyfriend of mine!" You bowed mockingly as you snorted at the chuckled he let out.
"You're ridiculous..." he rested hsi head on his hands as you poked your tongue out.
"And you're boring." You placed down on his desk a plate as he eyed suspiciously before smirking.
"Milk bread I see." He grabbed a piece between his fingers and immediately put it on his mouth as he got up and you standed in front of him.
"How is that?"
"... Perfect." He allowed a rare smile to show on his lips as you smiled back at the man you had the pleasure of knowing even on his worst state.
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