#I did prefer the fog i thought it had a good atmosphere but I did struggle to get into it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

professor-amaryllis · 2 months ago

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:{ A Video file is embedded. Valencia Island, Orange Archipelago. 8/29/24 1:03 am. }:

There's a stillness, a weight that sits as heavy as the thick fog that creeps over the gentle waves of the moonlit sea. Even through the recording the tense atmosphere is hard to ignore, the two figures sitting on the low brick wall watch as the local lapras and lapup doze in the warm waters as if desperate to look anywhere but at each other. The smaller figure, Casi, risks a glance over, but if the gardevoir notices she does not react.

“Rose, I-” Casi falters, the sound of his own voice so loud in the silence seems to startle even himself. He shakes his head trying to focus but something seems to interrupt his train of thought, and he looks over more attentively at the pokemon beside him.

Rose makes no move to look at Casi.

“I'm here because we have to talk about this sometime and I'd prefer it to be now before you come home with us.” It’s hard to tell from where we watch whether he is trying to convince Rose or himself. “Once I have a talk with Ivy we're leaving Valencia.”

“What do you mean no?” There’s a slight incredulousness to Casi’s voice, and he turns to look at the taller pokemon that seems to be paying him no real attention. “You want to come home don't you?”

Casi flinches, something in the unheard response striking a nerve. “I'm not leaving without you. If I had any intention of doing that I would've left months ago when you wouldn't even stay in the same room as me.”

It seems whatever response that the pokemon wanted to hear, this simply wasn’t good enough. She sighs, the statue stillness broken as she turns away from him. There's a quiet moment, as if Casi is waiting on something.

“I was... scared before.” Casi doesn't seem proud of his own answer, hesitating and scratching wrist with his opposite hand. “I got in too deep and by the time I realized that much it didn't feel like there was any time left. So I panicked and left. Thought maybe leaving a note would make up for it but…”

Rose tenses, an angry tremor in her shoulders and what we can see of her expression narrows.

“It was a mistake. Leaving you like that without an explanation... And it was a mistake not going back on it once I realized that too. Then life got in the way and…” Casi’s hands ball up in his lap and his body tenses as his words shift from trying to convince to a more uncomfortable tone, every word careful, like it has to be forced from him. “Did you ever see the newspapers that came out? All the ones saying Melody died..?”

This question seems to catch Rose off guard, perhaps a nerve touched, and she blinks as she looks back at him, some small guard lowering as she finally seems interested in what he may say.

“...I thought it was too late to go back. Which was still cowardly of me. I mean that was... Three years in between that? At least. Maybe less honestly. And all the things I thought I was going back to went up in smoke the moment I got home... I lost my job. One boss had disappeared, the other suffered from some sort of..” He makes some vague gesture with his hand, as if the rolling of his wrist would conjure the Unovan word he's looking for. Eventually he seems to find it, or something close enough. “Mental breakdown I guess. Fired everybody pretty much on a whim. Left Aracelis to care for his son while he worked in Area Zero alone and then when Aracelis left it... Fell to me. For a while.”

It seemed for a short moment like perhaps Casi had broken through Rose’s defenses, but as the words tumbled from his mouth, whatever small opening that he had made slammed shut once again. As hard as it may be to read her body language, the way she shrank back into herself, arms in front of her left little to be questioned.

“I... Yeah... He's um.. The point is I didn't make the best choices and I can't take them back. I can't pretend that I did right by you or Melody or anyone and when I found out that you were still around I insisted I come along.. Because I can't fix what I did before but the least I could do was make sure you get to come home to A.. Amy. To Amy.”

Casi’s voice quiets as he stumbles over the words, and there's a sincerity as he continues.“You don't have to forgive me, but I wanted to at least see you again.”

Rose won’t look at him, but there's something sad in the way she holds herself that seems to resonate with Casi, his expression becoming more determined and his words more forceful and genuine.

“You can leave, I'm going to make sure of it. Ivy can argue all she wants but there's no justifiable reason to continue to keep you here. You and Miairu aren't dangerous and I find it hard to believe your needs are being met on Valencia if she believes that you somehow are. I'm not giving up on that even if you decide you never want to speak to me again.”

There’s a long pause, Rose staring out over the water as her hand brushes up and down her opposite arm, as if thinking.

Casi Visibly chokes up at whatever response he hears, and he has to swallow back the tears that threaten to fall. They both stare out at the fog rolling across the water for a long while before Casi manages “...I’m sorry.”

Casi looks over at Rose, reacting to some unheard statement. His words feel carefully picked, deliberate as if sorting out his own thoughts in real time. “It's hard watching someone deteriorate like that... Not knowing what to do. Not knowing if there's anything you can do... And you were just a Kirlia back then. At least for part of it.”

Rose looks down at her hands, focusing so intently on them that it almost looks as if she’s ignoring Casi, if not for his responses.

“...I really hurt her. Didn't I? I hurt you.” There's a settling tinge of disbelief in his words, and Casi seems to make no attempt to conceal from Rose that fact.”After spending so much time trying to be a part of her life I sort of assumed she'd get over me. That all the sweet talking aside she didn't... Care.”

Now it's Rose's hands that shake, her eyes that water. What walls she has been keeping up seem to crumble down as she tries desperately to hold them together. Casi takes her hand and through his own tears runs a thumb over her hand in what he hopes is a comforting gesture. His voice is weak now, a tremble running through them as he forces out the words. “I'm here now. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry Rose.”

Rose makes a real audible sound for the first time since Casi joined her here, and it's almost startling how the quiet sob can sound so extremely loud in the openness of this space. She leans into Casi, folding down into the smaller figures arms as he hugs her close, gentle despite his own obvious pain. She seems so much smaller as her tears fall. It takes a few moments for their shaking breaths to settle enough to speak at all.

“I won't.” Casimir's voice is soft and broken, the words a promise of the most serious kind. “I'm not going to leave you here. No matter what it takes, we're going to bring you home.”

Rose nods weakly into his shoulder, her shuddering breaths slowly coming back under control. She makes no effort to pull away, and for a few peaceful moments all that can be heard are the quiet waves below and a soft, hummed melody.

[Transcript ends.]

// here's the full story with rose's side of the argument! Telepathy isn't recorded on video.

[Why are you here?] There’s not much emotion in her ‘voice’.

Rose makes no move to look at Casi.

[No.] Rose doesn’t move or react, but she sounds harsher, just barely.

[Why are you here? Why bother now. You should have left again.]

[That’s not an answer.]

[... Why did you leave? Why not now.]

[How could it?]

Rose tenses, an angry tremor in her shoulders and what we can see of her expression narrows.

This question seems to catch Rose off guard, perhaps a nerve touched, and she blinks as she looks back at him, some small guard lowering as she finally seems interested in what he may say.

[Not then. Later. I didn't mean to.]

[A…son.]

Casi’s voice quiets as he stumbles over the words, and there's a sincerity as he continues.“You don't have to forgive me, but I wanted to at least see you again.”

[I can't leave. You should go back to your family.] It's not really possible for telepathy to have a volume, exactly, but if it could Casi would swear that this was quieter.

Rose won’t look at him, but there's something sad in the way she holds herself that seems to resonate with Casi, his expression becoming more determined and his words more forceful and genuine.

There’s a long pause, Rose staring out over the water as her hand brushes up and down her opposite arm, as if thinking.

[I wish we had left too.]

[She got bad, after. Quiet. She wouldn't say, but I knew. Can't hide them from me.]

He was never good at hiding his surface level emotions, and he was making absolutely no attempt to conceal them right now. There was grief resting there. Older than a lot of the emotions he's been letting bubble up to the surface.

[I tried. Turned it down, made it quiet. I don't know if it helped.]

Rose looks down at her hands, focusing so intently on them that it almost looks as if she’s ignoring Casi, if not for his responses.

There's what seems like a memory here, Shared through her telepathy. The vantage point is much lower than one might expect. Aiko sits on the bare bed of an absolutely ruined room, holding something in her hands, nearly shaking with anger. Images flash here and there of the rampage that led to this, torn cloth and books scattered from desks. A kirlia's hand settles on Aiko's arm and the shaking starts to settle

He isn't sure what Rose can see, if anything, in his memory. It's not strictly visual to begin with. It's more focused on feelings. Snippets of things. Little interactions between Casi and the shiny Kirlia. The two of them making blackout poetry, doing puzzles, buying food, getting kicked out of the library. There was care there. Patience. Understanding.

[She didn't want... I didn't want... you to go.]

Her voice can't break, thought alone is immune to the weaknesses of the body and yet she struggles to put her sentences together, to translate her thoughts into what is not the most natural way for her to speak. Instead there is pain, loneliness, worry, anger, all spilling out all at once and nearly overwhelming to Casi's senses. Nights of empty rooms flashing by, any company never staying more than needed. Never paying them any real care. It becomes clearer that Aiko never let anyone else close enough to.

It's a flood of both their thoughts, their pain, their grief, their memories of the closeness they had and the longing to have it back. It seems like more is being communicated non verbally than there is verbally, but Casi still makes the effort to speak those feelings out loud.

[Don't... leave. me. Don't leave. Don't leave me. Here.

Please.]

“I won't.” Casimir's voice is soft and broken, the words a promise of the most serious kind. “I'm not going to leave you here. No matter what it takes, we're going to bring you home.”

Casi can feel the smallest doubt in the fear that already grips her that Rose seems unable or unwilling to hide in this state of openness that she so rarely allows anymore. But that pales in comparison to the longing that she feels for the comfort that Casi offers. Something she couldn't believe she would ever have again. A thank you doesn't need to be spoken when it is felt so deeply.

#//telepathy isnt picked up on video but theres a full version under the cut if anyone is interested!#:{this post brought to you by poryphone™}:#lore #echo posting #Tenshi 🌸#rose the gardevour #pokemon irl #pokeblogging #pkmn irl #a valencian detour #//im very proud of this i think we did good....#//Reese did half the writing!! he's amazing

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ikkaku-of-heart · 2 months ago

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Ikkaku hadn't even realized how easily she had made her way around the kitchen and living area of the lighthouse until Zoro mentioned it. The layout wasn't exactly the same as the one she'd grown up in, but it was similar enough that she'd just instinctually found her way to and from the kitchen without even thinking about it. She wondered if it was a coincidence, or if the architect of this lighthouse had taken some inspiration from the one on Joras. Given the similar atmosphere, the latter wouldn't surprise her.

"Yeah, I grew up in a lighthouse. My grandfather was its keeper and I was his assistant until I was old enough to sail away," Ikkaku said, a small, nostalgic smile curling her lips as she stirred the soup. The savory smells helped chase away the must and mildew that had dominated the room for god knows how long. "Layout wasn't too dissimilar to this one, so I guess it's easy to fall into old habits. But there are plenty of key differences. Like, I haven't tripped over a giant, sleeping dog yet," she joked. The thought of Neptune brought a familiar pang to her heart as, despite how awful Joras was, she missed her loving, loyal dog as much as she missed her crazy grandfather and ornery cat. She would have especially loved to have the Newfie around now to help stand guard and provide a little extra warmth and comfort. He'd always done a good job keeping bad things away, from nightmares to cultists to the strange silhouettes that lurched through the fog.

That job position would have to be filled by Zoro now, and she could at least say she did feel safer with him, especially now that Wado was once again at his side. She would have preferred all three swords, but that would have been too recognizable and suspicious, especially with the Navy so close by. Yet, as much as she wanted to say the Navy was her biggest concern, there was a deep, familiar unease that vibrated beneath her skin. Like something was waiting for them, watching with unseen eyes through the oppressive fog. But saying as much aloud would likely sound crazy to the swordsman, so it was best to focus on the tangible threat of the Marines and their mission to spy on them.

Their dinner cooking, Ikkaku led the way up the narrow staircase to the second floor. Like the main floor, the walls held a perpetually damp shine to them, but the floorboards creaked far more loudly. At least it'll be harder for an intruder to sneak up on us in our sleep, she thought, even as the sounds made her wince. Her brow furrowed as she checked the three doors. The first door led to a washroom, the clawed tub large enough for a comfortable soak but in desperate need of a good scrubbing. Law could have likely named all the different bacteria that had likely grown in it since the last occupants. The second was a simple linen closet that was stocked with blankets, quilts, and sheets, and most were sealed in plastic cases to keep them from suffering the same musty, moldy fate of the rest of the house.

Tentatively, she opened the final door, which at last revealed the bedroom. It was scarcely furnished, with a rocking chair by the window, a writing desk, and a dresser to hold their clothes. But her gaze was fixated on the queen-sized bed in the middle of the room. The iron frame looked sturdy enough, so she wasn't worried about it supporting the weight of two people. The problem was that, well, there was only one bed.

"Ah," Ikkaku said, biting her lip nervously. She glanced over at Zoro, then back to the bed. "Well, I don't take up too much room when I sleep to the best of my knowledge, and I'm sure there'll be nights where I'll be up monitoring surveillance equipment, so you'll get the bed to yourself plenty. So, uh, yeah. We can work with this, right?"

Zoro had to admit that this was all very new and more than a little strange for him. Once he had grown old enough to travel on his own, he never really stayed anywhere long term until he'd become a Straw Hat. Domestic was not really a skill that came easily to him. The chores were a series of actions that were easy enough to settle into. It was the downtime and small talk that were the frightening aspect of this situation. Still, as they were alone in unknown territory it would be rude to simply fill the time with silence.

As much as Zoro would like a nap, there was a strange unease to the chill in this place. It made his senses tingle. Some small voice in the back of his head telling him it wasn't quite safe enough to sleep yet. He looked out the dusty window to the dark fog beyond. In the dark of the early evening it looked thick enough to smother a person.

A foolish thought. Fog didn't have that ability. He wasn't sure why the thought even popped into his head. He shook his head turning away from it and looked over the room instead. The colors were so drab compared to the vibrant color of the Sunny. It was like the life have been smothered from the very wood used for the architecture. The stones that peeked through the paint on the walls at least seemed sturdy.

He moved to stand at one side of the room. Resting a hand against the wall. It was cold under his touch, feeling almost there was moisture under his skin. Not an unfamiliar sensation after living on a ship so long but also not nearly as endearing as it usually was. Strange.

He moved over to the stacked firewood and grabbed a few pieces. He moved to the fireplace. Adding the wood to the fire and stroking it a bit as Ikkaku brought over the pot. Stepping aside so not to hinder her as she set up their dinner. "You seem to know your way around this place pretty well."

He walked across the room and grabbed the bundle of blankets that Wado lay hidden in. While they were trying not to alarm the townsfolk with their little charade, it meant that she couldn't be at his side. He had to admit there was a sense of emptiness without the beloved blade being within arm's length.

"You said you used to live at a place like this, right?" He asked. Settling Wado into her proper place at his hip. The worst of the scrabbling at his senses slipping away.

#king-and-his-consorts #The Engine is the Heart of the Ship (canon)#Wandering Hunter (Zoro)#Do You Keep The Light On?#Tempered Heart - Ikkaku x Zoro (king-and-his-consorts)#(*whispers* and there was only one bed)

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apocalypticgargoyle · 3 years ago

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YES YES YES REBEL PUNZ PLEASEEEE I NEED IT FOR SCIENCE PLEASEEEE

-🐉anon

Okay so *sigh* I know I keep saying this about all our boys but I love heem

𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐋. ☥ 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐥!𝐏𝐮𝐧𝐳

pairing: rebel!Punz x fm!reader

word count: ~ 3500

warnings: smut (18+), pure filth basically, language, blood, fighting, illegal activities, degradation, praise, domination, spanking, etc.

playlists: Rebel!Punz, EDGERS

The basement was only accessible through one door which was stationed at the back of Techno’s motorcycle shop. The door was bolted from the inside, only to be unlocked after the murmuring of a password known by word of mouth.

Behind the door was a flight of stairs going downward. The walls are reminiscent of walking through a damp tunnel, the air hanging thick, smelling of rotting soil and burning leaves. A man stationed on one of the landings would open the door at the end of the staircase and then move back upstairs as one would continue through the dark hallway, faintly hearing the sounds of men shouting. Finally, the last entryway and the gateway into a different universe: two double doors made of decaying wood.

The hinges always creaked when pried opened, giving the illusion that the basement was nothing more than storage, yet through those doors laid a bustling room of cockroaches and their bookies. Men in all shapes and sizes, in suits and sweatpants, with elaborate hairstyles and hats clustered around a giant roped-off area in the center of the basement.

Ritual followers of the activities referred to it as the Ring.

The dingy atmosphere of expensive cologne and cigar smoke was a trip back in the twenties when similar tactics were just for the high of living. Underground matches are like alcohol during the prohibition and the Ring was the modern-day speakeasy.

And that’s where you were, swimming in the stale fog of cigar smoke and sweaty bodies as you scored percentages into your small notebook, taking the bribes as cash was handed to you. The men with the expensive appearances always flaunted their exaggerated statistics, testing your knowledge about the Ring as if they weren’t facilitating some kind of kill match. They treated you as if you were the equivalent of a cigarette girl when in reality, you held their fortunes in your hand and controlled the fate of the fight.

You were Techno’s eyes, ears, and author. He would observe from afar, crossing his arms over his chest as you eyed Punz, telling him which way to fix the fight to make Techno the most money. Punz was completely attuned to you, his light eyes trained to search for your mild quirks and subtle hints as you pretended to add up the odds. Regretfully, it was a losing night against an outside competitor.

Punz drew in a sharp breath as you chewed the inside of your cheek, barely instructing him. You flashed him four of your fingers, knowing full-well that Techno was guaranteed at least a $10,000 payout if Punz let the competitor wail on him for that long. You always preferred the nights when you could nod for him to flatten the challenger in under two rounds, but nights like tonight left your stomach in knots.

You rolled the sleeves of your white button-up shirt, your suit jacket hanging on a fold-out chair nearest to Techno as you continued to work the floor. As you walked the perimeter, your gaze glued to Punz, who was wrapping white tape around his knuckles and watching you. You knew that his heavy-handed approach in the first few rounds would leave the protection in nothing but white tatters, peeling away from his butchered skin.

His lip was still busted from the match a few days prior, cheekbone tinted with a purple hue and eyes set tired to avoid giving away the adrenaline you knew was pulsing through his body. His hand flexed against the tape, giving him more motion. Your sights settled on the healing cut that divided his eyebrow, the memory of seeing Dream’s ring cut into Punz’s face making your blood boil.

You liked to stand on the opposite end of the make-shift ring from Punz. There were days when you wished you weren’t some kind of conductor for the underground matches, mainly so you could cheer on your lover like the rest of the spectators.

But alas, you were the puppeteer and Punz was your obedient marionette.

The fight began with the ringing of an ancient-looking shift bell, Punz stepping back on the balls of his feet as his opponent remained defensive. Punz rolled his eyes, sights flashing to you before moving to land the first blow; a heavy shot to the man’s side. You crossed your arms, nodding as if to tell him he only needed to lose by a hair.

At your direction the fight became bloodier, knuckles cracking against bone and rib cages, drawing the crimson streams of life from their bodies. In an ideal world where Punz was fighting for his own mercy and not the money bags of his boss, Punz would have wasted the opposing man, smiling as he did so.

Punz always seemed to gain stamina the more he was battered, thriving off of the blood pooling in his teeth or streaming down the side of his head. In bare-knuckle matches, he was almost unrecognizable in his blood lust.

The bell chimed again, the rounds moving quicker as Punz pretended to be worn out from the weaker jabs of his competitor. You chuckled to yourself, a smirk settling on your lips as he rolled his shoulders. His expression tilted towards you, seemingly noticing your amusement as he fought not to grin himself.

Punz launched his fist into his opponent’s face, blood gushing instantly from the man’s nose as Punz hammered another blow into his torso. The man retaliated by driving his elbow into Punz’s stomach before throwing his knuckles into Punz’s jaw. Punz’s t-shirt clung to his sweat-drenched body, the thought of peeling him out of those clothes later in the night made your skin prickle with goosebumps. His messy hair and concentrated eyes were allusions of unadulterated sin as he brushed the back of his hand over his mouth, wiping away the thread of blood trickling down his chin from his re-busted lip.

Punz knew to wear down, letting the man knock him against the ropes, Punz’s light eyes looking up at you with nearly a breath between the two of you. “Good boy,” you stated, only loud enough for him to hear. His eyebrow quirked at your words to combat the cocky grin wanting to break through his tough façade with your praise. He stood up straighter and submitted to losing as his competitor landed another punch.

After the fight, you indulged in the sound of your heels clicking against the staircase as you moved back up to the shop, the area quiet and desolate after the cockroaches had scampered away back into their crevices. You turned, starting down the long hallway towards the locker room, grabbing the First Aid kit off the wall on your way. The envelope of money felt heavy in your hand, its manilla coloring almost too obvious against your suited attire.

You pushed the door open with your foot, peering down one of the rows of lockers before spotting Punz, yawning slightly as he pulled off his shirt, revealing various old-style tattoos that matched the ones painted across his knuckles. Whenever you saw him in this state, you silently thanked George for his hours of work and steady hand.

Punz’s eyes perked up as you entered the room; the familiar sight of you ready to patch up his wounds brought a content smile to his bruised features. “How’d I do, dove?” He coaxed looking up at you as he sat on the dividing bench. His voice was raspy and deep from exhaustion.

You gave him a small smile, tossing your jacket on the other side of him and taking his face in your hand, pressing your lips against his briefly. Your nose brushed his as you placed a kiss on his cheek. “So good,” you hummed. He moved to straddle the bench as you sat in front of him, digging into the aid kit.

Before you could even start in on his wounds, his hands were snaking up your legs to grip your thighs, pulling you closer to him on the bench. You propped your knee against his, taking one of his hands and dabbing away the dried blood on his knuckles as he dug his face into the crook of your neck. His breath was warm against your skin as he took in your scent, his lips pressing against your neck before he unclasped the top few buttons of your shirt. His other hand moved to press against your freshly exposed skin, teeth nibbling at your ear lobe.

You let out a quiet giggle at his antics, moving your head to brush against his cheek and shrug him off. “Cut it out. You’ll distract me,” you muttered, stifling the obvious grin in your tone.

He let out a low chuckle, moving your hair out of the way before settling in the crook of your neck again, hand moving to wrap around your waist and draw you closer. “There’s no way. You’re too stubborn,” he jested, his stubble tickling your chest as he nibbled at the sensitive skin on your throat.

Once you finished with his hands, you moved onto his face, tending to the small cuts and scrapes. Punz continued his own form of clean-up as he pressed his lips against the inside of your wrist. You knew he was coming off of his fight high and you were waiting on him to rag you about wincing during some of the harder hits. He got off on the idea that your calm and indifferent surface cracked when it came to him.

His hands hooked around the back of your knees, tugging you practically into his lap as you rolled your eyes. His fingers untucked your shirt, slipping between the material and your skin as his lips traveled the length of your jaw. His blunt nails raked down your back, his neediness unmasked by the slight roll of his hips against yours.

You dropped what you were working on, running your fingers into his blond hair as he moaned against your skin. You moved your legs to wrap around his waist, letting him grip onto your hips and press you against his body. He sealed his lips against yours, hungrily kissing you with a groan. You tugged on his hair, his tongue slipping into your mouth.

His fingers unbuttoned the rest of your shirt, slipping it off your shoulders as your teeth moved to dig into his shoulder. His hands moved to tug your pants down your thighs. You pushed him back against the bench, balancing yourself on his lap as you settled his hands on your thighs, leaning down to kiss him again.

He gripped onto your hips, driving you to grind against him, a moan of his hand slipping through your lips in praise. Your fingers raked down his chest as you ground your hips against him, making him bite his lips to keep himself quiet.

He pushed himself into you, making you groan as you adjusted to his size, hungry for more friction. As you rolled your hips, his hands moved to your chest. You pulled his arm towards you, pressing your lips to the tattoo across his wrist in your handwriting. "You did so well tonight, baby," you cooed, earning a moan from him at your praise. "I'm so proud of you."

You leaned down, swallowing his lustful noises and you pressing your lips against his as you thrust against him. The tension from the night and the sight of him submitting to you completely.

His head tipped back against the wood, his hips swirling against yours as his mouth opened with a slight whimper. You clenched around him, feeling him throb inside of you. You bit back a smile, watching how easy it was to get him off as his cheeks flushed, a lazy grin on his face as you moved on top of him. "Fuck look how much you want me," you mocked, his hands moving to dig into your hips.

His brows furrowed as he mumbled your name, making you pick up your pace. "Shit, don't stop," he nearly begged.

You curled your hips, leaning down to press your lips to his neck. "You deserve it, my good boy," you husked, tongue flattening against his collarbone as he moaned at the feeling.

He pushed himself to sit up, giving you a new angle as you drove him deeper into you, thrusting against his body and tugging at his hair. He dug his face into the crook of your neck, quietly pleading out your name as if he were confessing his sins to you.

His coarse hands dug into your back, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as your head fell back, moaning about how good he was making you feel.

It didn't take long for him to finish, his hot seed spreading between your legs as he groaned darkly in your ear. You combed your fingers through his hair, letting him roll his hips against yours and ride out his high.

Dream kicked his feet up on Techno’s desk, popping a few jelly beans in his mouth from his position on the other side of Sapnap, the bone tattoos on his fingers making you slightly grateful for Punz's ink choices. Sapnap leaned his head back against the edge of his chair, closing his eyes tiredly as you crossed your legs, flipping through one of the magazines that Techno had stacked in the corner of his office. Punz flexed his hands, still sore from the previous night’s fight, as he watched your skirt ride up your thighs a few centimeters.

The office was silent between the four of you, waiting for the man in charge after he’d called all of you in for an “emergency meeting.�� Punz looked over your shoulder at what you were reading and you angled yourself to share the magazine with him, trying to ignore the tension he was building between the two of you as his thigh brushed yours.

The bag of jelly beans in Dream’s pocket made shuffling noises as he moved closer to whisper something to Sapnap, making him chuckle softly. The door swung open, sending the four of you on your feet as Techno’s secretary rattled off what was on his docket for the day. He ran his fingers through his short pink hair, eyes zoning out slightly as he took a seat behind his desk before thanking the woman and sending her on her way. He motioned for all of you to sit.

“My anxiety is through the roof, I just need to know if I’m in trouble first, Tech,” Dream started in, making Punz’s eyes roll and you to let out a small laugh.

Techno began to feather through some of the papers on his desk, pulling on his glasses. His t-shirt flexed against his muscular arms. You were surprised to see him in casual clothes in the middle of the week, but you figured he had plans with Sapnap after the meeting. “No, you’re fine, Dream.”

Dream chewed on one of the jelly beans. “Are you sure, because I can’t figure out why I’d be in here. Like, I’m just,” he paused, leaning forward to look at you before snapping his fingers a few times searching for a word. “What do you call it?”

You scoffed. “A floater. Snap at me again and I’ll break your dick off,” you bit, making Punz subtly cover his mouth to conceal his grin.

Dream winked at you. “Sounds like one hell of a handjob,” he quipped back without missing a beat.

“Dream, shut the fuck up,” Sapnap sighed, looking at Techno as if to urge him to continue. Dream snickered at Sapnap.

Techno cleared his throat. “Okay, now that that’s out of our system,” he pulled a page from the stack. “Dream, I’m giving you more matches to take some of the weight off of Punz.”

You tilted your head. “What?” Techno’s gaze shifted to you as if commanding you to elaborate. “Punz makes you the most money out of all of them. You’re losing profit with Dream.” You weren’t going to sit idly by and let your lover get knocked down a peg. Especially, not for Dream to step up in his place.

Techno nodded. “It looks bad on my part if one of my fighters dies in the middle of a match though, doesn’t it?”

“It’s illegal underground fighting. He knows the risks-” Punz reached over to cover your mouth.

He sighed. “That sounds fine. No less than three a week, though.”

Dream let out a low whistle. “Damn, she let you borrow your balls just for this?”

Punz turned his head to him, tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek. “Hmmm. What does that bracelet say, sweet boy?” Sapnap laughed at Punz’s comment, making Dream punch his arm. Techno shook his head at all of you, settling his glasses on top of his head, pushing his bangs out of his eyes.

“You guys are all simps,” Techno murmured to end the discussion. “Sapnap, I have a new model I want you to test out. Punz, I’m leaving the shop to the two of you while I’m gone.” He gestured between you and Punz before tilting his head to Dream. “I mean this with the utmost respect but, go mutilate your body or something at George’s. I don’t trust you and Punz in the same room for more than ten minutes.”

You snorted and Dream shrugged at his words. As you all stood to leave, Sapnap and Techno began to discuss his new car modifications. “Hey, Dream. Can you get my name?” You teased and he pinched your cheek.

“Right above my ass because I know you’ll be staring at it anyway,” he jested. Punz moved to stand behind Techno’s desk, flipping through his account book. His knuckle tattoos flexed as his fingers searched for a specific tab.

You sighed. “Finally, I’ll have something to look at,” you countered, biting back a smirk. Dream mocked a pained expression before heading out the door. You turned back to Punz, walking behind Techno’s desk as well, your hands running along his black jacket. “You’re quiet today,” you muttered, fingers looping through his thin silver chain to draw it from beneath his shirt. You’d bought it for him for your anniversary a few years prior.

He turned towards you, his deadpan look sending shivers down your spine as his hand wrapped around your wrist. “You think I can’t defend myself?” He dared, eyes flickering with lust and heat as he looked at you. His hand moved to hold your chin, your breath hitching as his lips threatened to brush against yours. “I have half a mind to teach you a lesson for that.” His voice was mellow and low as he spoke to you, making your ears burn red.

His thumb moved to brush against your lip, your mouth opening to take his digit between your teeth almost instinctively. There was no way any of the guys would take you seriously if they knew how whipped you actually were for Punz, which was most of the reason why he let you lead when you were around them.

The other half of him liked when you were scary and in charge.

Punz knocked you against the desk, your torso hitting the wood as you bit back a giggle, gripping onto the edge of the wood as he kicked your legs apart. “Speaking for me like you’re my master,” he jabbed, pushing your skirt further up your waist and grinding against you. He tsked as you moaned, pressing your cheek to the grain, shoving Techno’s pen display to the side.

He gripped the collar of your shirt, snapping a few of your buttons. “Christ, Luke,” you moaned, voice uneven and out of breath. “I’m gonna run out of shirts,” you barely whined.

His lips pressed against your shoulder, nose moving to brush against behind your ear. “Are you complaining, pet?” He hissed, hand settling on the edge beside your own, grinding his hips against yours. You shook your head violently, making him lean off you. The sound of his belt dropping to the floor behind you made your head spin, your knees weak.

His hand brushed over your waistband, dipping below your skirt and smacking the curve of your ass. You whimpered at the impact, heart racing as your body throbbed for his attention. "Filthy slut. You like when I punish you, don't you?" Punz chided, pressing his knee between your legs and knotting his fingers into your hair. You rolled back against his thigh almost as if by instinct, hungry for his antics.

His palm smacked you again, gripping onto the sensitive, burning skin with his strong hand as if it were a trophy for him. Truth be told, you were his trophy, especially when you gave in like you were.

As you heard his zipper, your face flushed, gripping onto the wood as you readied yourself, submitting to Punz's mercy with a grin on your face.

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poeticandvaguelysweet · 2 years ago

Text

Prompt: #255 - Halloween (explicit)

THIS IS SET PRE-JURASSIC WORLD AND DOES NOT CONTAIN DOMINION SPOILERS FOR ANY LOVES WHO HAVE NOT SEEN IT YET

I first wrote and published this fic in November 2018. Someone left me a rather lengthy review complaining about how bad it was and how disappointed they are (not constructive criticism) on my birthday when I was already having a shit time. It got to me so badly I deleted this fic. I was thinking about it recently, and after having two conversations about it with two different people I have decided to repost it. It’s been lightly edited, but for the most part remains the same.

Summary: Owen and Claire fuck after a halloween party.

AO3

HALLOWEEN

Halloween, 2014

Isla Nublar

Parties, especially staff parties, were not Claire’s thing. She felt awkward, lingering in a room full of staffers she barely spoke to. Zara’s smile was bright, grinning at Claire like she knew her secret. ‘I'm so glad you decided to come!’ Zara half yelled over the music, her elbow tapping Claire’s hip. ‘You look ravishing.’ She winked again making Claire wonder if she had revealed her intentions to Zara without realising. Her assistant leaned in again, this time letting her finger slip between the bands that scattered down the side of her skirt. She pulled it tight, letting the fabric go as it snapped back into place with a satisfying sound against Claire’s skin. ‘I'm going to go get us some drinks, do you have a preference?’ She asked, stepping away with a small laugh as she marvelled at her boss wearing something so unexpected.

Zara disappeared into the decorations, cobwebs and plastic spiders hanging from doorways and sconces. Someone had plugged in a smoke machine, setting off an eerie atmosphere and thick air. She couldn’t see the walls anymore, just faint outlines of spooky decorations and the faint knowledge that tombstones scattered the space here and there.

The Monster Mash played at an obnoxiously loud level as employees dressed in varying costumes moved to the music, drinks in hand and conversation on their lips. She didn’t pay them much mind beyond a quiet smile, happy to see the tension from the command room slip away and the high pressures of a popular theme park disappear into a quiet night. Claire didn’t know them well, but she knew they deserved this. Time off to celebrate amongst themselves without the pressures of their jobs.

Her eyes washed over them, peering through the manufactured fog, looking for one face and body in particular. She wasn't sure if he would be there, but free booze always seemed to be a lure for Owen Grady. Claire wondered briefly if she poured herself a glass of tequila if it would be enough to summon him. Like the smell of his favourite liquor would be enough to drag his nose through the room until he was standing at her feet, wondering why on Earth she was holding something she once denied. Surely, just to prove her wrong he would appear, telling her the drink wasn’t approved by her diet with a smirk and a self-satisfied chuckle. She hoped he would, so she could roll her eyes and feel the familiar warmth slide down her spine. He was a jerk. But he did it for her.

‘Please tell me you just had this lying around.’ Like he felt his ears burning or sensed her tequila thoughts, Owen appeared. His hand ghosted over her hip, too scared to touch her fully as his fingers made contact with her skin in the gaps of her skirt. His voice was low, warning and weak. Claire knew all she would have to do is nod and he would be jelly at her feet, his hands all over her as he pulled her body into his.

It felt so easy with Owen. Easier than it had ever had been, easier than all the times she wanted it to work and the relationships she tried to salvage. But he made it feel so good and so effortless, even when she wanted to hate every second of it. Even when she tried. The man had talent even she couldn’t dissuade and now she was yearning for it, missing him like another limb. She hated herself, if only a little, for being drawn into the spiders’ web but she also knew Owen was harmless and had the highest of senses that he was into her enough to want to do it again.

Claire tried to pretend she didn’t feel a shock of electricity at his touch, her heart pounding instantly as her mind wandered to delicious thoughts. The scratch of his voice made her recall when it had been pressed directly beside her ear, his breath ghosting past the cartilage and setting her on fire.

‘Sorry?’ Claire asked, playing stupid to his words as she looked him up and down. He wasn’t wearing a costume. Still dressed in jeans and the leather vest she always saw him wearing at the paddock he wreaked of dirt and something specifically Owen. It was nice to know he didn’t scrub up for parties as well as dates.

He nodded at her attire, Claire suddenly feeling self-conscious about her choice. ‘I’m just trying to figure out whether this is something that’s always lived in your wardrobe or if you bought it for tonight.’ She watched his eyes as he watched her, smoothing up and down the lines of her body in a way that made her skin hot. Usually, Claire would be repulsed, annoyed at the blatant cockiness of the man. But, Owen … she wanted this from him. She realised, a little too late, that she was likely setting women back twenty years in choosing to dress specifically to be ogled by a man. Claire was hoping the payoff would be worth it.

Her hands smoothed over her hips, sliding across the fabric in the front of her skirt.

The skirt was knee length, a leatherette and held together by individual elastic straps down each side. They were a few inches apart, leaving pale skin to the mercy of eager eyes. She wore a laced corset underneath it, more skin on show as she covered herself with a neat blazer, leaving the rest to temptation.

‘It’s new.’ She offered, trying for a seductive smile and a heavy bat of her lashes.

‘What are you supposed to be anyway? Sexy corporate kitty?’ Claire felt heat climb across her cheeks and slither its way down her neck. She had forgotten about the headband with cat ears she bought and the whiskers she drew on herself with a kohl pencil, trying to keep up the pretence that she had a costume and wasn’t just wearing lingerie. Sexy rolled from his tongue, dancing in her ears and setting her skin on fire.

He wasn’t hesitant, but confident, choosing his words wisely as Claire swore she caught a gleam in his eye. ‘And what are you supposed to be. Yourself?’

Owen shrugged, ‘Thought Raptor Trainer would be a good costume’. She rolled her eyes, unable to help herself against his cocky grin. He thought he was so clever. Owen was interesting, easy to peg and easy to concur but he was interesting to Claire. Different from others certainly didn’t give up and even though he crossed the boundary line on a few small occasions, for the most part, he knew it was there. Above it all, he never seemed to give up on her, no matter how many times she tried to push him away. ‘I honestly didn’t think you would go for this kind of dress-up at all.’

He was stuck on it, fascinated, his eyes sliding down her body once again, hands twitching at his sides. He wanted to touch. Claire had him hook, line and sinker. ‘Well, I saw it and thought it would look good against your bike.’ She saw him swallow hard, fingers curling into fists as he held himself back, trying not to launch at her. It was faint, but she heard the rumble of a growl in the back of his throat, fading itself out with the chatter and the music around them.

Her body had been humming since she got dressed that afternoon, knowing full well that if things went to plan she would have a lot to be excited about. That hum had built to a slow burn, tingling under the surface that now, at his reaction, lit itself alight and started to rush across her body.

‘You, ah, want to go outside and see if your theory was correct?’ He asked, nervous as he gestured towards the door somewhere in the fog. Claire liked surprising him, he was always breathless and thrown off when she said the unexpected. To think that she could keep a man on his toes, thrilled her. Not once did he show he was intimidated by it. Owen always recovered quickly, showing her a flash of confusion before that smirk grew across his cheeks and he challenged her right back.

She barely managed a nod before he grabbed her hand and pulled her into the throng of people. He stopped at the make-shift bar, asking her if she wanted anything and not moving until she shook her head. Claire wasn’t there to drink.

His bike was sitting outside, away from the other vehicles. There was no streetlight, only the silver wash from the full moon, shining off the metal of his bike’s engine. She felt her heart pick up a beat as her feet carried her across the footpath, Owen by her side making idle conversation.

‘Didn't expect to see you at a party like this.’ It wasn’t organised by the higher-ups. One of the herbivore trainers was huge on Halloween and couldn't stand that nothing was being done for employees. There was plenty for park guests but nothing they would want to go to in their downtime. So, Pete or Mike or whatever his name was, set this up. Owen was surprised Claire even knew about it.

‘I’m full of surprises.’ Nonchalant, she shrugged, stepping ahead of him as her shoes hit gravel without pause. His bike was cool under her fingertips, the leather soft and well worn as she grazed her touch up and down the seat before it rose over the cold metal of the handlebars.

Owen was quiet behind her, admiring her ass no doubt as she leaned over the machine in her admiration of it. Motorcycles were something that had thrilled her, once upon a time, the danger of them felt more real than that of living on an island full of dinosaurs and the fact that Owen insisted upon having his here, with him, drew her in quicker than a flame called to a moth.

Her fingers danced, gentle as they pasted the plaque branding, ‘Triumph’ pressed proudly in silver decorating the fuel tank. 'You want to hop on?' Owen’s voice was strong behind her, deeper than she had heard it since the last time their bodies touched. She turned, ever so slowly, unsure if the blood rushing south was making her dizzy enough to fall over. Her smile was shy but challenging as she bent, fingers finding the hem of her skirt. Claire could swear she heard Owen swallow, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as his feet scratched across the gravel.

‘God, Claire, you don’t have to straddle it.’ His hand appeared at her thigh, fingers warm against her wrist as he tried to stop her. The wounded, if not startled look she threw him was enough to make him retreat. His hand was still on her wrist, but his touch was no longer meant to discourage her.

She stepped back with the audacity to look wounded before her features softened into a small smirk. ‘So, just like this then?’ Claire asked, straightening as her skirt remained crumpled, pulled halfway up her thighs. She looked dishevelled, not unlike herself, as Claire took a step back towards the bike, waiting until she felt the coolness of it against her back. She hummed, leaning herself against the machine as Owen stood watch.

‘Yeah,’ He sighed, breathless, unable to fill his lungs with the cool air that surrounded them. She was a sight and a half, stretched out in front of his bike, her hands propped up behind her. Her blazer was pulled tight over her chest, one button holding it in place, straining for release as her skirt sat just as snug, promising him so much more. ‘Almost perfect.’ He found his feet, boots kicking the gravel as he stepped forward. ‘You been drinking?’ He asked, not unfamiliar to a drunk Claire, a little looser than the corporate woman he saw from day to day. This wasn’t her. She shook her head, holding his gaze in the moonlight. ‘Good.’ The answer was rough as his hand raised, reaching for her. His fingers found the button of her blazer, flicking it in a fluid motion to set the fabric free. It breezed down her sides, revealing the corset Claire wore, black lace, sheer in places. Owen’s breathing grew deeper, eyes closing for a split second as she stood there, ignited by the moonlight. ‘Much better,’ he muttered, stepping closer, his large hands found her waist.

It was Claire’s turn to feel breathless, lost in his warm touch as her body shivered. She wanted to ask, a question poised on her lips. Instead, their eyes did the talking, dancing their dance as green met green. She had told him she didn’t want a second date, that she didn’t see the two of them as compatible. That, given enough time, he would get sick of her. She needed him now, more than she needed air and the feeling had been bothering her for weeks.

‘Just once?’ He asked, reading her mind, and falling prey to her plan. He had to be the one to cave. Maybe, if only for a minute, Claire wanted to hold the power over him. For once, she wanted to be the cocky one self-assured by her wiles and his want for her. Just for a minute, Claire wanted to feel how Owen had felt when she had hissed at him before pressing up on her toes and giving in to a needy kiss.

She nodded and it was all he needed. Before they knew it, Owen’s mouth was on hers, soft lips and warm stubble against her silk cheeks. Claire opened to him easily, her walls crashing down before they touched as she revelled in the feeling of his arm sliding around her back to pull her body flush with his. She didn’t mean to whimper, but the sound released itself from her throat before she even felt the need. He had pulled it from her so effortlessly, one hand on the small of her back while the other slid up into her hair. His large thumb was stroking at her neck and behind her ear, hitting the base of her headband with every upward stroke. It fell from her head within seconds, toppling down the back of her skull where Owen finally freed it and tossed it into the night.

Claire wanted to be consumed by him, standing in heels in the gravel, pushing up onto her toes, her hands gripping onto his shirt, his vest, the bare skin of his neck and finding strands of his hair, here and there, everywhere all at once and not at all. She needed purchase, felt that maybe she could stand on the seat of his bike and tower over him like a goddess. She wanted to be with him, near him, one with his heart beating in his chest. She had always wondered what it would feel like to be so deep in desire that the only need that throbbed within her was to crawl into the cracks of another body and bury herself inside of them. She wondered if he felt like that when their clothes were gone when he had the chance to push the core of himself into her warmth. Did he feel whole? Did it shroud him in a blissful feeling or only partly? Could she do that for someone and could she feel loved in the same way?

She stopped her hands on his cheeks, lips pulling away from his as Owen chased her mouth. This wasn’t love, Claire needed to remind herself. Gulping in deep breaths she let the chill of the night wash over her. This was lust, pure and raw but nothing more than that.

‘You alright?’ He asked, breathless and panting. There was a heavy hand on her hip, long thick fingers having slid themselves inside her skirt, sitting against her bare flesh and burning there. Her nod was easy as she filled it with a reassuring smile. She was drawn away for a second, worried by her thoughts before she pushed back into him, meeting his lust with hers and challenging the strength of the man’s worship.

Impatient hands found the zip on her skirt, leaving fat fingers to pull on the tag. She was almost ready to shimmy out of it when laughter met her ears and Owen’s body tensed around hers. She couldn’t move. Only stood still as the sound of people past them. ‘They didn’t see us.’ He offered, redoing the zip as his hands slid around to the front of her waist. ‘But, do you … ah, do you think we should take this elsewhere?’ Even in the light of night, she could see the warmth on his cheeks and arousal in his eyes.

‘Is your bike safe?’ She asked, partly stepping away from it as she assessed his vehicle. ‘I’ve never ridden one before.’ Her statement was almost an insinuation. Even though her car was in the lot with everyone else's nearby, Claire was choosing this.

‘Mostly.’ He answered with a shrug. Sometimes it stuttered, faltering at high speeds and promising to send him flying. Hell, it was a motorcycle. It wasn’t all that safe. She could see his hesitancy, wasn’t sure if he wanted her on it. Didn’t know if he could keep her safe. ‘My bungalow isn’t far from here.’ And yet, they could just as easily walk to her apartment. ‘I’ll go slow.’ He told her with a wink, his hand lingering on her hip as he moved for the bike. ‘You want me to teach you?’ He asked, more so he could get her to ride in front of him. Owen knew too, that Claire was a curious creature and if a learning opportunity showed itself, she would be more than happy to take it.

He dropped to his knees when she nodded, kneeling in the dirt as his hands found the backs of her thighs. She had tried to push her skirt up earlier, ready to climb onto his bike and Owen stopped her. Now, he was sure the action was necessary as his hands found the fabric and slid it further up her thighs.

‘You’re not wearing underwear, are you?’ He asked, the question lingering on his mind.

Looking down at him with her teeth on her lip, Claire shook her head. Owen’s groan was animalistic, his forehead falling to her skin. She could feel him concentrating on deep breaths as his hands gripped tightly to her skin. ‘Fuck,’ drifted from his lips quietly, mouth grazing against her thigh before he kissed the skin there, just below the fabric of her skirt. ‘Are you trying to kill me?’

She grinned, ‘Maybe’.

Just like that, he was on his feet again, patting the seat of his gunmetal Triumph Scrambler and telling her to hop on.

His bike was broad and thrilling beneath her thighs but was nothing compared to the feeling of Owen behind her. His chest was strong, solid as he wrapped himself around her, holding her to him tightly as his arms reached for the handlebars. The machine roared to life, eliciting a short gasp from Claire in her surprise. She had been too focused on him, the man around her, rather than the thing they were on. Owen chuckled in her ear, the sound deep and vibrating with the bike as it send shivers down her spine. It pooled in her gut, building with white-hot arousal as she lost herself in the feeling of his cheek against hers.

‘Hold on tight.’ His words were punctuated with the squeeze of his arms against her sides. The engine roared, rumbling beneath their bodies as Claire felt a shift in Owen behind her.

It was with unspeakable ease that Owen navigated them though barely used service roads. He was the only thing down that way of the island. Claire was sure that one day the park would extend to his little alcove and encroach on his space, eventually pushing Owen out and into apartment living. She wondered if he would still be there by then or if the choice between his job and his solitude would be what it took to make him quit.

She had to give him kudos for the location. It was peaceful out there. Still. In the distance she could hear the calls and chatter of ancient beasts, happily settling down for their quiet lives away from entertaining. The first time she was out there the serenity and raw purity of it reminded Claire of her early days on the island before it was finished when the waterfalls and jungles were left to that of bright-minded interns. Now, they were overcrowded and tainted by the footprint of tourists. But, Owen’s bungalow and the land it sat on seemed to have that untouched feel. It was just him out there, his bike, and the fish in the lake. He lived around the dinosaurs, able to hear them but never see them like they were a closely guarded secret that hovered over his life. She lived for the magic of it and wondered if she had known this could have been a choice, would she have asked for a house of her own in a secluded part of the park? He might just let her share it, if she asked nicely, setting out a plot of land across from his bungalow where she could build a more liveable abode. But then, it would mean Owen Grady was her neighbour and Claire wasn’t sure how close she wanted him. Then again … in situations like this night, it would have been handy having him only a few steps away.

‘You alright?’ Owen asked, his body peeling away from hers until he was standing in the grass by the bike, concerned eyes watching her. Smudged on his cheeks was the faint hint of her drawn-on whiskers, his nose marked too. She hadn’t noticed it before they left, her mind a little dazed from their kisses, but now she saw it as clear as day. Claire grinned, feeling every inch of the fond and joyous emotion that filled her as she leant in to kiss him once again.

She had missed him, even in their short ride. Her lips had almost forgotten the warm pressure of his and the impatient push of his tongue. This was it, they were alone now, left to the vacancy of his island home where they could do and be as they please without disturbance. Claire didn’t miss a beat. With her arms around his neck, she lifted her leg, sliding it past the fuel tank as she drew her body closer to his. Owen stopped her before her foot joined the other, her heel clicking against the tank as his hand touched the skin of her knee. ‘I just gotta …’ He mumbled against her lips, breaking their kiss as he dropped to his knees. His lips peppered kisses up her legs, jumping from one to the next as his hand held her knee still bent above the body of his bike.

It was her easy laughter that caused him to smile, grinning as he climbed up her legs with fat kisses until he met the twitching skin of her upper thighs. Her giggles faded into an easy moan when Owen closed his mouth over her sex.

Fingers scratched the leather of the bike seat, Claire desperate for something to hold onto as her body teetered on the edge. It felt like the world was moving around her in slow motion as Owen dragged his tongue across the sensitive flesh of her labia, setting Claire into a world of impatient agony as the fire within her kept sparking but failed to ignite. It wasn’t because she wasn’t thrilled with what he was doing, but because he was moving to torture her rather than pleasure, stroking but not quite hitting the spot that would send her into oblivion.

Owen shifted, moving his weight on his knees so he could reach his hands up her back, holding her steady as Claire leaned into the touch, trapped in her position as her hips cantered against his face. She moaned sound long and low stretching out into the silent night air around them without a single worry of being overheard.

He had freed her, sexual liberation wracking her body as Claire threw her head back, leaving her neck bare to the skies and filling the stars with her impatient cries. She felt brave, lifting a hand from its indent on his bike seat to bury it in Owen’s hair. Her nails scratched, trying to convey in movement what her throat wouldn’t let out. He was grinning, sly as a fox between her thighs with a chuckle on her skin that made her fingers dig deeper. Owen pulled it from her, beckoning each cry with a flick of his tongue, the hand still holding her thigh, rubbing soothing lines against her skin as she grew louder and less restrained.

Owen didn’t let up until she had doubled over, hands clinging to his back as she lay bowed over his head. She was panting in his ear, leg shaking in his hand as her fingers twitched against his back pulling on the shirt he wore before briefly releasing it. It took Claire several minutes to catch her breath and find her strength before her hands pushed against Owen’s shoulders to right herself. He was grinning when she met his eyes, looking up at her like she held the world in the palm of her hands.

‘There’s my kitten,’ he grinned, voice rough as he pushed himself up into a stand. Claire had thought, back at the party, that Owen had discarded her cat-eared headband. But, when he placed it back on her head, pushing her bangs back with it she realised that assumption had been wrong.

Claire wanted to roll her eyes and tell him she wasn’t his. She couldn’t bring herself to do it. She liked being his in situations like this. Claire felt treasured, adored, respected even. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be his full-time. But for brief moments, she enjoyed what could come from being in Owen’s inner rings.

He kissed her, distracting Claire from her thoughts as she tasted herself on his needy tongue.

‘Inside. Now.’ She growled against his lips, pushing against him a little as she found the strength to challenge him. The sound he made in response was a mournful whimper. She felt it settle against her bones as his hands held her hips tightly. If Owen had his way with it, he would have fucked her against his bike to fulfil some playboy wet dream. For now, she was happy to deny him. ‘It’s cold,’ She whined back, shivering for emphasis as she nipped at his bottom lip.

The rest was a blur. Moving from the bike to Owen’s bungalow, shedding their clothes and landing in his bed. She could remember him faltering with the clasps and ties, the inconvenience stalling them for a minute until he figured it out. His frustrated grunts puffed against her neck, sending goosebumps down her spine as she sat patiently waiting to be undressed.

If anything, Owen was overqualified in making up for the lost time. His touch was hot, heavy, and knew exactly where to pinch, flick and soothe. He was everywhere all at once, overwhelming her senses now that she didn’t have to worry about falling off his bike. Her skin was bare and sensitive to him, his calloused hands, his coarse hair. He was bigger than she was dizzyingly so as he hovered above her.

‘You ready?’ He asked like his fingers weren’t currently sitting sticky on the outside of her thigh. She could feel him, just there, hovering, hesitating, waiting for Claire to make the call. ‘I remember it wasn’t a comfy fit last time.’ There was concern in his eye but mirth on his lips. The bastard was happy with himself that he was almost too much for her. She gave him a small nod, affirmation but chose to not entertain his last comment. His ego was being stroked enough with her presence.

She gave him a small nod as she rolled her eyes and forced a scoff in response to his last comment. ‘You’re too much.’

‘I mean, you didn’t exactly complain last time. And, here you are, in my bed again. I’d say, Claire Dearing, I’m exactly what you want.’ He kissed her cheek, the gesture fond and familial more than any of the others had been. ‘You like that too-full feeling, don’t you?’ He punctuated with a sharp thrust forward, one hand holding her hip down as the other guided himself inside of her. She grunted, eyes rolling again, this time in a mix between pleasure and pain as Owen withdrew. A second grunt game with his next thrust, twisting into a moan as he slid deeper, stretching her inner walls in a way that had her coming back for more.

He wasn’t wrong. She was an addict for it, driven for the next opportunity as her body longed in between each experience. They had only had sex once and yet she was sniffing him out, luring him into it just so she could see if that slight discomfort would return for a few seconds more. And oh, how it did.

Claire couldn’t feel anything beyond the throb of the man pushing in and out of her centre. His erection was hot and showing no signs of relenting as she rolled her hips against his, adjusting to the feeling. Owen lived for every pant and moan that escaped her lips with each inward thrust. The sigh she released when he pulled out of her fully, body relaxing for a split second before he pushed forward again, pulling another grunt from her throat. He groaned, sound gritty and dry as he succumbed to the warmth of her body.

Owen knew he needed to savour it. That the first time was sheer luck and, this had to be an impossible daydream. It was Halloween after all, maybe some island witch had put a spell on him and he would wake up naked, alone and feeling all too empty. Claire Dearing wasn’t the kind of woman who lingered in the presence of men. She struck once, like lightning, shining white-hot energy into his life for a flash before she was gone. A second go-round? This was rare enough. He had mapped every freckle on the inside of her legs, from the small patch on her stomach up to the ones that speckled her chest. She was without imperfections, perfect from head to toe in silk-like skin that smelt like a dream. Maybe it was a dream, she responded to every touch, every push, every twitch and every graze of his hand. Her body sighed, moaned, whimpered and cried. She arched into him, pushed back or rocked her hips in time. Surely, he was dreaming all that? He couldn’t be that good for her. Not the elusive Dearing. Not the woman he wanted to bag but knew he never could.

Distracted, Claire managed to overpower him. Owen’s back hit the mattress before he realised what had happened. She was grinning above him, happy as a fat cat as her lips tugged on his bottom one, teeth not letting him go. Owen growled, hands squeezing at her thighs. He didn’t like having his power taken away, not as she set the pace above him. But, this was Claire, stretched out, sitting in his lap, nothing but smooth skin from the plains of her stomach to the curve of her breasts. This he liked, this he could live with if it was Claire taking him out for a ride.

Her hand was cautious on his chest, fingers barely touching as she rocked her hips against his. She was trying to hold herself up, to keep herself steady as she set a torturously slow pace. He wanted to overthrow her, regain control and show her how it was done but there was a concentration set on Claire’s brow that stopped him.

She was close, unbearably so. Claire’s eyes were pinched shut and her bottom lip was held between her teeth, slightly gnawing on it as she moved her weight towards the hand on his chest. Her hips moved over his, rolling and moving in figure-eights as he tried his best not to buck into her and throw the woman off. She was mesmerising. Not that she wasn’t already. Owen had been infatuated with her for years, but this felt like a special viewing. Like he was privy to a side of Claire not many had the privilege to see. He watched her, feeling lucky that he had the chance, head surrounded by his pillows as the moonlight snuck in through the blinds to illuminate her hair.

Men in the navy spoke about sirens, beautiful women who lured them into the sea. Owen wasn’t sure they existed, along with any mythology but he was sure Claire had it in her. A sirens song, beckoning him to the depths of nothingness on false promises of forever with her. She was a goddess, full of power and strength. A woman unlike any other.

His hands were soft on her hips, thumbs rubbing easily lines against her skin until one drifted, broke away at the sound of her frustrated sigh. Something just wasn’t hitting the spot she needed, Claire grinding against him relentlessly, searching for the release they were both expecting to receive. His hand slid past her belly, flat palm to her skin as he felt the muscles beneath it twitch at his touch. Still, she didn’t sense what he was doing until his thumb rolled over her clit.

‘Fuck,’ she swore into the dark of his bedroom, the word and feeling overtaking her. Owen did it again, slower, purposely driven. She hissed, body leaning into his touch. He felt something inside her clamp down, the warmth of her body gripping onto his. The sensation alone nearly sent Owen over the edge, his arousal suddenly returning to him like it had been living behind a veil for the last few minutes.

Owen echoed her sentiment, overcome with his need as his body honed into every inch of hers. His thumb rolled once again, flicking at the sensitive bundle of nerves on the return to its resting place. She jumped, body caught off guard by the electricity he sent sparking through her nervous system. She rocked forward, chasing the sensation as her cries stung together in a needy, desperate sound. She was right on the edge, rocking herself harder and faster as a brave hand found his wrist and pushed it down her belly. She wanted his hand right where her desire was pooling, sure his touch could set off the release she was looking for.

He was never one to deny the primal urges of a sexual partner. If that’s what she wanted, it was what she got. Most of the time those urges are never wrong. Owen’s hand was steady, broad as his fingers slid past her slick skin, feeling where their bodies met for a brief moment before he drew his touch back to the epicentre of her lust. He could hear it, the end of oblivion mounting her cries as Claire’s back straightened and her neck laid bare to the cool air.

She fell from the heavens, shuddering as she persisted in keeping herself upright. Owen was nothing but a spectator. He brought her to that ledge and tugged her over it. What he would give to continue to be a bystander to this glorious oblivion, her moan echoing in his ears as Owen swore he heard his name whispered on her lips. He was high on it, head spinning as she twitched, hips rolling slowly, trying to chase the ends of her orgasm, prolonging it for as long as she could.

The patter of rain on his roof startled him but not as much as Claire’s sweet breathless chuckle. The sound radiated from her as her body returned from its high, slowly crumbling into a neat, vanilla-scented pile on his chest. The rain carried on.

‘Can I stay here tonight?’ She asked quietly, hips shifting with his erection still straining inside of her. Owen hadn’t thought about how she would get home or where exactly her car was parked. All he knew was that he drove her here. Maybe she had planned to walk and the rain had now ruined that idea. Nevertheless, she was asking if she could stay here at his bungalow with him.

His hand snaked down her bare back, counting her ribs as he tried to distract himself. ‘Yeah,’ he cleared his throat, a lump forming around his words. ‘You can stay. Whenever you want, always, hell, you don’t even need to ask.’ Owen couldn’t shut his mouth, words flying here and there, his body useless to catch them. Claire smiled at him, her head propped up by her hands as she leaned on his chest. Her kitten whiskers were still in place and the smudge on her nose stubbornly remained. It made her smile all the sweeter as her green eyes shone just for him.

‘Good.’ Claire hummed, moving to press her lips to his as she sat up once again. Owen was mournful of the loss of her body against his and then deeper again when he felt her pull away from him. She wasn’t gone long. Her fingers picked up an immediate trail just below his belly button, nails dragging south.

He flinched when her lips met the base of his cock, sliding around his flesh as her nails dug into his thigh. He wanted to tell her that she didn’t have to, that he didn’t expect it. But, one-touch and he was an addict, drawn to the velvet of her lips and silk of her tongue. His head fell back, eyes closing when he felt her take him into her mouth, lips sliding down his shaft as Owen felt the tip of his erection touch the back of her throat. It was all sensation after that, he couldn’t speak, could only roll his eyes into the back of his head and gasp for air. It was like their roles had reversed. It was now Claire with the impatient touch and the greedy kiss. Each move was calculated, her hand twisting, applying pressure to the base of his cock as her tongue worked on teasing the sensitive tip. He felt her everywhere, his skin on fire with her touch, never wanting it to end but desperate to kiss her again.

Claire was goal orientated. Nothing was getting between her and Owen’s orgasm, even when he pulled at her arms with needy little sounds. She only shook her head or stopped to level him with a menacing glare. He was weak for it, trying again just to catch the stern glare of her gaze so he could link it back to all the times she had looked at him in that way outside of a sexual setting. He was going to find himself with an erection every time he stopped listening in a project meeting from now on until the end of time.

It was the thought of Claire glaring at him in one of her tight business skirts, not unlike the one she wore tonight, that finally pushed him over the edge. He got that. Corporate woman putting him in his place, making him weak at the knees, letting him fuck her. That Claire handed herself over to him willingly that night. The setting would have been all the sweeter if it had been in her office, but beggars couldn’t be choosers and Owen was just as happy with his bungalow. Not to mention his bike.

She grinned at him like the cat who got the canary, his ejaculate dripping down her chin. Owen still wasn’t sure who was smiling down on him as he reached for her, taking her face in his hands and she crawled back up his body until they were chin to chin. ‘Sorry,’ Claire apologised. ‘I really wanted to do that.’

He had no complaints. Maybe he had one. She would eventually get up from his bed and never return. He wondered briefly if it was too late to make an offering to whichever spirits were currently haunting their island.

Owen didn’t want to force Claire to stay but he certainly wanted to see her return of her own accord. Then again, he had seemingly learned enough about her to maybe woo her once again.

#clawen #jurassic world #clawen fic #Claire Dearing #Owen Grady #pre jw #despite the odds

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gaegalsyd · 3 years ago

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Tracing Footsteps in the Wind

summary: You are a peculiar who travels through different loops to help different ymbrynes in their loop and their children. But what will happen when you visit the loop of one ymbryne called Miss Peregrine. Will you find friendship, sorrow, or love?

Chapter 2: It doesn't matter where we take this road

The next morning, you decided to help Miss Kestrel make breakfast for the children so you made your way downstairs silently after changing from your sleepwear and fixing your hair. The smell of the waffles in the kitchen wafted in your nose, and the sizzle of the bacons was the only sound in the area. Miss Kestrel was there alone sipping her tea while making sure none of the food got burnt.

“Good morning Miss Kestrel, anything I can do to help?” the older woman acknowledged you by preparing another cup of tea for you “Good morning y/n you can set the table, and what’s your preference for your tea?” You took the plates and utensils before responding with a smile “the usual, miss.”

After setting the plates, one of the older children came down to help prepare for breakfast and after a while all of the children were seated at the table and were already eating.

While everyone is eating, the headmistress cleared her throat to catch everyone’s attention “children, Miss y/n will be leaving the loop after breakfast, I expect you would want to say a proper goodbye to her” the children looked at you in surprise and started asking questions like “will you come back?” “Can you send us photographs?” which you all answered easily.

After breakfast you gathered all your things and went downstairs and saw the children and Miss Kestrel waiting for you. The older woman patted your back while all the children gave you a hug. “Be careful out there y/n, you can send us a letter anytime you need anything” Miss Kestrel said while holding your arm.

You thanked her and everyone in the house, and once you’ve exited the loop you felt the vast difference in the atmosphere and time. Without looking back, you started your journey towards Cairnholm.

The travel from Brighton to Cairnholm would have been a lot easier without the war and trying not to get any attention for yourself. But while you are in the boat on the way to the island, you are starting to feel at ease and are already thinking of how the children are. And when you saw the shape of the island you noticed a bird flying, a peregrine falcon to be exact, you knew that there is a big chance that this is the ymbryne of the new place you’ll be calling home but you did not do anything to acknowledge it.

When the boat stopped, you immediately got off it and started walking around the island. You can feel that this island must have been through a lot just with the look of the houses with doors and windows closed, and with the people being in a hurry as if trying to get to their destinations to get out of the open area as soon as possible. The island is not that picturesque, not that you are expecting it to be picture perfect, the weather is gloomy and the air is a bit cold that matches the atmosphere of the island. Walking around, you did not see any hint of the loop or a place where the children may stay while they are on the island, that’s why you did not hesitate to enter the first pub you saw which is the Priest Hole.

“You there! You don’t look familiar, what brought you here? ``One of the men in a Welsh accent asked you, and when you were about to approach them, a woman asked “Are you here for the children?” which surprised you because surely they don’t know about peculiars or if they do then that could be troublesome, you thought. You said yes hoping that they did not notice the hesitancy in your voice, then one man approached you and placed a hand to your shoulder then said sorry for your loss. You sat on one of the chairs and took a drink, after listening and engaging to some of their conversations, you learned that the house was bombed and not one survived. “So the house was bombed but where is the entrance to the loop” you thought quietly, after a while you asked some questions in hopes that you’ll get some answer to where the entrance is but when you got nothing you just sighed and asked “Can you tell me the direction to their house?” after giving the directions the owner of the pub reminded you “The house was bombed just a few weeks ago, it might not be safe to wander too much and be careful of the bogs” You gathered your things and thanked the people “ I might leave as soon as I see the house, thank you for the directions”

The path towards the house is not an easy path, they must have stopped maintaining it after the house was bombed since it is the only house on that side of the island. And when you saw the home, your heart sank despite knowing that every occupant survived. The front part of the roof is completely shattered and some parts are just waiting to fall around, and it is reeking the smell of smoke and burnt woods but you walked closer. It was probably raining a few days after the bombs but you cannot bring yourself to come inside the home since from your inspection, the building is very unstable as of the moment and would need a few more weeks until anyone can safely come inside.

Assuming that the entrance of the loop must be close, you started to walk around the house until you felt a presence, then saw footsteps that ended just beside you. “Is someone there? I can feel you and you’re not so good in hiding” you pointed the footsteps, then you heard a sigh “You must be miss y/n, Miss Peregrine asked us to fetch you” you smiled towards the air where you think the voice came from and grinned “Why don’t you lead the way then” After saying those words, a girl with red hair and a leather gloves approached you from behind the trimmed bushes that you assume to be once a garden, with clothes in her hand which she handed to the invisible boy you were talking to “you were naked the whole time” you said in disbelief.

The girl with red hair giggled and said “ My name is Olive, that is Millard, and yes he was naked the whole time”

The only respond you had was an “Oh”

“My name is Bronwyn!” a little girl with brown curly hair said. You knelt in front of her “Hello Bronwyn, my name is y/n” you offered your hand to her which she accepted “I did not notice you immediately, young lady” you added and made Bronwyn giggle.

“Let’s go, Miss Peregrine would not appreciate not being on time” Olive said that prompted you to stand and follow her.

On the way to the entrance, you had small talks with the three of them while keeping track of every turn and step you took but you realized that you were approaching a cave near the beach. Realization hit you that if you were left on your devices to look for the entrance, it would take you so much time. After making sure that no one followed the three of you, you entered the loop and heard a ringing and a pop! That means you have successfully entered the loop. When you emerged from the small cave, you were surprised by the shift in the weather and atmosphere. It was sunny and everything was vibrant, there’s no sign of rain or fog, you could even hear the chirping of the birds and the laughter of the children as you neared the house. It was just a few weeks ago when this loop was made but this is perfect.

You saw the house in its glory and almost forgot what it looked like when you first saw it as a ruin. The sun had already set and lights were already lit but it did not make the grounds look less than perfect. When you stepped to the porch, the three children excused themselves to finish their chores, and when you were about to knock, the door swung open to reveal the silhouette of a woman about as tall as you with her hair done in an updo and she’s holding a pipe. The woman stepped outside and you finally saw what she looked like, and the first thought in your mind is that she’s beautiful and far from what you are expecting, her hair is dark with strands of dark blue which is probably a thing with the ymbrynes, her eyes are light blue reminding you of the sky and it is accentuated by her dark makeup around it, and her lips are rosy as if tempting you to kiss her. She took the pipe from her mouth and looked at you and you looked back at her and figured that comparing her eyes to the sky does not do her any justice for it also has some shade of green but can be mistaken for gray. But you still cannot remember where you first saw her.

“You must be Miss y/l/n. Alma Peregrine, delighted to meet you” she offered a hand which you accepted and the faster beating of your heart did not go unnoticed to you. “Yes, that would be me” the ymbryne looked from your head to your toe with a curious glint in her eyes before smiling widely “come in dear, welcome to our loop”

The smell of bread and vanilla inside the house was the first thing that reached your senses, you were welcomed by a house that gave you comfort and coziness.

“You have a very lovely loop Miss Peregrine” the woman smiled proudly and you thought that she looked even more beautiful when smiling “Thank you dear, and please call me Alma without the presence of the children”

“Then you can call me y/n” you smiled at her. She guided you to a room upstairs where you will be staying and before she left she placed a hand to your arm “The children are done for supper and I’ll bring some foods here, you may rest early if you wish”

You sat in the bed before responding to the woman “good night, Alma” then she smiled at you and closed the door. And you were sure that if she would smile at you often, you would already be a happy woman with that alone.

#miss peregrine x reader #miss peregrine movie #miss peregrines home for peculiar children #alma peregrine #alma peregrine x reader #mphfpc #miss peregrine fic

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unknownunidentified101 · 3 years ago

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𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐑𝐎 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 寒い

❝ [y/n]-san I Like You A Lot ❞

You were frozen in shock at such words

You stand there about to say the same thing but a scene replays in your mind

“ i like Tanjiro “

Of course out of all the things you can think of at the moment, it had to be that

You step back and look at the floor

You felt selfish...your friend Kanao a few weeks ago confessed to you about her crush and the thing was, it was yours too but honestly right now in the moment you thought she was such a role model and Tanjiro deserved way better

“i’m sorry Tanjiro, i don’t see what you see in me..but there are better people than me...and i don’t like you” you confessed, lying the last part

“w-hat are you saying [y/n]!” Tanjiro said confused

“ i’m not the right one for you...goodbye” you said as you ran after trying to hide your crying face

Is this what you wanted? no it was for Tanjiro, he needed someone better, at least that’s what you thought

It was the time of year again...the time the snowflakes fall down from the trees that were withered. You were walking on the crunching snow that imprinted your tracks

Your breathe a white fog that escaped your mouth as you continue your journey

You had just returned from your mission, caught in the bizzard like atmosphere

You were exhausted, this mission was unlike any other, it was diffcult and left you bruised with cuts that hissed every step

You sigh when you reach HQ and seeing the infirmary was at it’s most capacity, you decided not to intervene as it wasn’t as big of a hassle

“ [y/n], your here! how are you” the three sisters greeted you

You look at them and smile, hiding the pain, “ i’m good, just made it back in time” you dismissed

“ah that’s great! i heard the trio are coming back too!” the sisters said, preferring to the trio, Tanjiro, Zenitsu and Inosuke plus Nezuko as well

You instantly hide your exictment as you heard that, you did have a crush on Tanjiro afterall but you rejected him because he deserved someone better, for example, Kanao...

You wave to them as a goodbye and stumbled to your room after they disappeared

You sigh and open the door to your room and fall on your bed

You huff on the pilllow

You then sit up and take off your haori and observed your cuts and hiss when it was exposed

With little supplies, you got a aid kit and bandaged yourself although not having much experience

As soon as you were finished and happy with the results you heard a commotion outside your room

“ Tanjiro! Zenitsu, Inosuke and Nezuko!” the twins shouted pointing at the box

You were spying behind a pillar but the bright head noticed you somehow

He smiled and waved at you but you avoided him as he spoted you, you wanted to leave but after being caught you tried to go inside but someone grabbed your wrist

“[y/n], your back! looking as pretty as ever” Tanjiro smiled

You tried to avoid him but he held tighter

“[y/n], please don’t go, you haven’t let me talk to you for weeks...” Tanjiro said with sadness in his tone

“ Tanjiro you know i don’t like you-”

“[y/n], i like you because your beautiful, intelligent and amazing, there are more words i would say but you wouldn’t listen” Tanjiro said looking at the ground

You were tempted but thinking about Kanao, you couldn’t bare it

“ Tanjiro! I Don’t Like You!” you almost shouted

Tanjiro looked at you heart broken with tears on the brim of his eyes

“ i understand...gomen (sorry)” Tanjiro said as he let go of your hand and parted ways

You stood there, tears already on your cheeks, “ i’m sorry”

That was the last you heard of him for weeks...

___

A few weeks later you could tell Tanjiro changed, he wasn’t the bubbly person he was, he was more sad and everyone saw it too, even Inosuke didn’t challenge him to fights anymore which was out of the ordinary

You felt so bad and you knew you had to put a stop to this

So on nightfall you saw Tanjiro rarely at the pound by himself

He looked at the water with a bored expression and Nezuko was out of sight

you sighed and approached him, which to that he didn’t react

“Tanjiro...” you softly said

Tanjiro didn’t respond, he was too heart broken which make the guilt grow heavily on your shoulders

You sighed and looked at his hopeless expression, on the verge of tears

You couldn’t think of anything else and fell down and hugged the boy

He was unsure at first but hugged you back

“ i’m so sorry” you said in his shoulder

Tanjiro didn’t respond, he only held you closer

“ i like you Tanjiro..i lied before...so please don’t be sad okay?” you said as you played a little with Tanjiro’s hair

You said this in hopes Kanao will understand

“ me too [y/n]” Tanjiro said as he squeezed you tightly

You two stayed in this position until the cold got the better of you two so you headed inside

“ Tanjiro, i’m heading to my room” you said as you gave him the hoari he sheltered you with

“ ah of course [y/n]” Tanjiro said with a smile you missed so much

you couldn’t help your urges and ran to him and kissed him on the lips

Tanjiro was confused at first but gave in to your lips, After a few seconds you parted

“ actually can i slept with you? or is it too fast” you smiled

Tanjiro’s cheeks flushed but he shyly nodded

“ i’d like that”

+ pictures for educational purposes 👀📸💥

<33

#Tanjiro #demon slayer #tanjiro x reader

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twooneztaylorthecat · 3 years ago

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Early Sunday Morning - Adam Stanheight / Reader

It was Sunday, about six forty-five in the morning, the last day of the week. Thoughts and anxieties had woken you up. You floundered in the bed sheets futilely but couldn’t fall asleep again. You threw the covers off yourself, and flung your legs over the edge of the bed. The atmosphere was quiet and dull. A white light filtered through the big bedroom windows, the blinds folded shut. It was a chilly morning and you shivered as you got to your feet. It was cloudy outside, and the sun was just barely emerging from behind the large city buildings. You went to fix the blankets you messed up on the bed, and noticed Adam sleeping on the other side. You did not want to wake him so you gently brought the covers over your pillow. Adam rolled over, but didn’t open his eyes. Now he was facing you, his skin looking pale in the white light, and his whole expression peaceful and vulnerable. You heard the clock chime from the kitchen, and you glanced briefly in its direction. Adam twisted a little bit and you looked back at him. He was still fast asleep.

You turned away from the bed and padded into the bathroom. It was colder in here than it was in your bedroom. You stumbled to the bathtub and clumsily turned on the shower, you grabbed a clean towel from the cabinet, then waited for the water to warm. The remnants of your dream still haunted you a bit, but you proceeded to undress yourself, then stepped into the tub.

Hot water splashed on your face and rolled down your back. It soothed you and washed away all the horrors that still lurked in your mind from the night before. You let out a breath of relief, and leaned against the shower wall. You let your hair hang down in the water. It was so hot it burned you, but you liked it. ‘Scorching’ was better than just ‘hot’. The water relaxed your muscles, calmed your nerves, and allowed you to think clearly. The steam wafted up and warmed your face, it fogged the mirrors and the windows.

In your moment of bliss you missed the creak that came from the bathroom door, and the light swish of the shower curtain being pulled back. Someone came inside with you, and started bringing their hands up your back. You leaned into them, turning your head slightly to the left. “Adam…” you murmured.

“Morning…” Adam answered calmly in your ear.

“I didn’t mean to wake you, Adam,” you breathed out.

Adam leaned down and kissed you on the lips. He pulled you even closer to him and wrapped his hands around your waist. “It’s okay.” His warm breath passed over your lips. You put your head on his shoulder, and let the water roll over you.

Adam spun you around delicately so that you were facing him. He took in all your little details, and scanned your body up and down. You stared at him hesitantly, yet playfully, and waited for him to say something. “Like what you see?” You asked him wittily.

Adam raised an intrigued eyebrow at you. “Oh, definitely.” He pushed you against the wall, moving his head in close to yours. Your lips were nearly touching at this point, and you hummed out happily. “You look good,” he whispered.

“Oh, I’m sure. Doesn’t everyone think their significant other looks good without any clothes on?”

“I’ve seen other people without their clothes on,” Adam said simply. “And none of them compare to the beautiful sight in front of me right now.”

You scoffed. “You’re such a charmer.”

“I don’t know about that. You must be pretty good yourself, if you ended up in my dream last night.”

“Oh? What was I doing?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“I mean of course not, that’s why I asked. Because I didn’t want to know about your dream at all, so I asked about it,” you mumbled sarcastically.

Adam’s gaze flashed down to your mouth momentarily then came back up to yours. He narrowed his eyes at you flirtatiously, a small smile on his face. “You look rather kissable right now.”

You shrugged. “Well, I’m here aren’t I? Or would you prefer to wait a little longer?”

“Don’t play the Top game with me, Y/N.”

You smirked at him. “Why not, baby? You’ve been playing the Sub game ever since we started dating.”

Adam scowled at you. “I’ve gotten better.”

“You’ve gotten CONFIDENT. Being ‘confident’ and being ‘dominant’ are not the same thing.”

Adam eyed you miserably, knowing full-well that he had lost the argument. Knowing full-well that you were RIGHT.

“Are you going to kiss me?” You asked him finally. Adam’s mouth was only inches away from yours now, the close proximity was driving you mad. But Adam didn’t oblige. Instead, you asked again, “What happened in your dream, Adam?”

Adam looked at you halfheartedly, then struggled to say, “You… being dominant… Like usual.”

You rolled your head onto the wall, and looked at Adam from the side. “I’ll let you do it this time, then. You were right about one thing, you have gotten better at it.”

Adam grit his teeth. “Hardly. I learned from a professional.” He winked at you.

“If you won’t kiss me, I’ll kiss you,” you whispered firmly.

Adam stared at you. “Go ahead.”

Eagerly, you closed the gap between his mouth and yours, and started intensely making out. There was no lead up, no preparation, nothing. Just immediately to the point without any dilly-dallying.

Adam was kissing you hard, pressing into you, strongly pinning you to the wall. His hands left your waist and started rubbing your cheeks. There was no room between you and him. You were practically being squashed in between your boyfriend and your shower wall. But you liked it - a lot.

There was heat corrupting your face, steam clogging your nose and eyes, water drowning your skin, and butterflies flying in your stomach. You felt incredibly elated, your mind was numb. Adam’s lips on yours was such a miraculous feeling; it left a tingling in your lips and a rush of jubilation entering your brain. Maybe Adam was the submissive one, but he was a helluva good kisser. You couldn’t get enough of him.

You were out of breath by the time either of you stopped. Your lungs felt like they were burning, but everything else was high on adrenaline. You and your boyfriend stared into each other’s eyes deeply, both of you panting heavily into the other’s mouth.

After a couple seconds of winding down, Adam said, “Love you, Y/N.”

Your heart fluttered at his words. It made you feel good to hear him say that. You looked up at him, lacing your fingers in with his. “Love you, too.”

Adam reached for the shampoo on the shelf, keeping his eyes fixed on you, and then started to message your head. You gritted your teeth and fell against Adam’s chest, letting out a contented sigh. His skin was warm and soft. You closed your eyes and enjoyed feeling Adam’s firm hands on your scalp. He tenderly rocked your head into the stream of running water, making sure not to get any on your face. Scorching water trickled down your forehead and shoulders, and dripped from your hair.

When the shampoo was completely out of your hair, he backed away. You felt obliged to give him the same treatment, so you slathered some shampoo on your hands and combed your fingers through his hair. Adam smiled at you contentedly. “Hi…” he commented shyly.

“Hi,” you said sweetly, and pushed his head on to your shoulder. You felt Adam breathe out in satisfaction. You smiled, enjoying this way too much. Feeling Adam leaning on you for support was… honestly kind of hot… Then again, everything Adam did was… ‘honestly kind of hot’. He was so perfect.

A couple of minutes passed as you both finished bathing each other. This shower was probably the most efficient one you’d taken in your life; it had definitely felt good. Now that the water was off, you stared at the curtain dishearteningly. Neither of you wanted to get out into the cold. “Want to grab my towel?” You asked Adam hopefully. You batted your eyelashes at him in a joking manner, though you were slightly hoping it would work.

“No,” Adam said bluntly. “You want to get mine?”

“No.”

It was silent after that. Kissing broke out between you again, but only for a short moment. Then your phone rang. You looked back at the curtain. “You should do it,” you said playfully. “I’m too tired! I woke up before you did!”

Adam gave you a disapproving look. “Even I know that’s not true. Why don’t YOU get MY towel?”

“I’m not freezing my ass off for you.”

“I guess I won’t come to you when I’m stuck in a blizzard then,” Adam muttered dryly. “That’s good news, thank you.”

You elbowed him in the ribs. “Knock it off! I didn’t mean it.”

“Then go out there and grab a towel.”

“Look, it’s not my fault you didn’t bring one over.”

“You didn’t either,” Adam retorted.

“Well, at least I got mine OUT,” you replied smartly.

Adam pushed you through the curtain. “Get out of here.”

You fell down in a pile of hands and feet onto the linoleum bathroom floor, but not before grasping Adam’s hand in your own, and bringing him tumbling out with you. You were sprawled halfway out of the bathtub on your stomach. Adam was also halfway out of the tub, laying on his stomach.

You let out a yelp of surprise, and Adam let out an exclamation of disgust. But you yourself were proud.

Epic plan gone wrong… You thought to yourself complacently.

“If I go, you go, baby. That’s how it works,” you told Adam smoothly.

Adam gasped, then seemed to find his positioning on top of you quite pleasing, and leaned his mouth to your ear. “Of course,” he purred seductively. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. You know I’d never leave you to suffer all alone.” You felt his warm breath travel down your cheek. It made you giddy.

You chuckled nervously. “A-Adam…”

“What’s that you said about being the top?”

You huffed. “I didn’t say that. Did I say that? Hmmm, strange things happen to the bottoms, don’t they?”

“Right. Like their conceited personalities.”

“Don’t get cocky,” you said in a low tone.

Adam got up. “I’m fucking cold. Thanks, Y/N.”

You shrugged. “You felt warm to me.”

Adam chucked your towel at you. “Happy?”

You started drying your hair. “Yes…” you mumbled cheerily.

Adam shook his head in disbelief, and sat next to you on the floor. He was also tussling his hair with a towel, but he didn’t need to; it was too short for that. You beamed at him, feeling the close proximity eating you alive.

Once both of you had hung up your towels, Adam pulled you into a tight embrace, in which he started leaving little kisses down your cheeks and jaws. You squirmed in his grasp, a big smile on your lips and also a bright blush on your cheeks. You both laughed a little, and then you tried to pry Adam away. “Stop!” You gasped.

“Why so eager to leave me? Do you have to be somewhere? Are you seeing someone else?” Adam shot you a look full of fake hurt. “How could you?”

“No, no, no, no, no!” You blurted desperately. “It’s not like that! I don’t want to leave YOU, I want to leave this cold bathroom!”

Adam released you, a smug smile on his face. “Okay. I can deal with that. It’s very cold in here.”

You made a beeline for the dresser in the room over. You flung open the drawers, and pulled out your favorite things to where - preferably the most comfortable. You saw Adam come up beside you and pull out a white shirt, and a pair of jeans.

What else did he wear? The plaid flannel that was on the edge of the bed? Sadly, you were right. You mocked him for it, but Adam laughed with you.

“I know what works baby, why would I find something else to buy when I know that white T-shirts and jeans are comfortable?”

You sighed, and laid on the bed, your face towards the ceiling, when your stomach decided it was time to eat something. It announced it very loudly, and embarrassingly. Adam cast you an astonished look. “Hungry?”

You scrunched your nose at him indignantly. “Maybe I’m a little hungry?”

“You want leftovers?” Adam wondered worriedly.

You glanced at him nervously. “Yeah…” You murmured.

There weren't enough leftovers for two people. You both knew this and scrambled to your feet, racing for the door, each of you trying to be faster and smarter than the other. In a laughing fit, you and Adam made it to the fridge at the same time, therefore declaring it a tie and resolutely forcing both of you to split the meal in half. At the end of it all though, you ended up having to make waffles to satisfy the remaining hunger.

Oh what a morning. Today was going to be great! You couldn’t wait for next week.

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todoscript · 4 years ago

Text

Syndicate — [ 3 ]

parts: one | two | three

SUMMARY: The four of you arrive at Hatsume’s workshop, hoping to find some leads about the mysterious bullet you discovered in the aftermath of the scuffle against the Shie Hassaikai yakuza group.

genre: mafia au. pairing(s): mafiabosses!todobakudeku x fem!reader word count: 2.1k+ warnings: mature themes. mafia talk. crude language/cursing. future adult and violent scenes. polyamorous relationship. characters are aged-up. taglist: in reblogs. please ask if you would like to be included in the taglist for updates on future parts.

author’s note: oh my god, i am so sorry for the very long wait everyone! trying to crank this part out was a bit of a struggle with everything going on, but i’m glad it’s finally done! i initially planned to make this chapter a bit longer and continue on with some of the next section, but it made more sense to end it off here so the next part could be flushed out more on its own

Nothing but the grating sound of machinery sparking against each other fills the room the moment you walk into Hatsume’s workshop, located in the more uneventful parts of Tokyo, and away from the seeing eyes of the public. Your ears recoil at the noise; however, it is a cacophony of sounds you are used to, considering this is far from your first time here. Thus, it’s not so much a surprise, being greeted this way, though still jarring nonetheless.

Mei Hatsume is a woman who usually busies herself with work. Whenever she wasn’t occupied filling out a client’s order, such as creating the gadgets they requested necessary for certain heists, she was always active in coming up with new inventions—other gizmos to win people over. In turn, she managed to catch the three pairs of eyes that are responsible for overseeing the infamous Yuuei mafia. Before long, the syndicate had become one of her most frequent and loyal clients due to her high-quality skills and work ethic.

Your three men are in tow behind you when you enter, following in not only your steps but your strained expression over the racket.

“Hatsume!” you shout out to try and capture the girl’s attention, being that her eyes are covered in her dense, protective goggles to even see the four of you coming.

Far too engrossed in her work, her nonchalant hums in between her buzzing equipment indicate that she isn’t going to notice you anytime soon. Knowing this, Bakugou grits his teeth out of annoyance and marches past you.

“Hey Goggle-Head!!”

Unsurprisingly, his yell is garishly loud and is enough to cut through the jarring grinding of the machines and reach Hatsume’s ear. Bakugou does prefer to take a strident approach to things after all. And today especially, he isn’t in the mood to wait around.

“Bakugou. That was unnecessary,” Todoroki says, side-eyeing his partner for his boisterous attitude.

“It was totally necessary, Icy-Hot,” the blonde retorts.

Hatsume soon stops what she’s doing and finally brings the noise to a halt. Lifting her bulky steampunk goggles from her eyes, she properly greets her guests.

“Well, well, if it isn’t my favorite clients!” Her tone is welcoming and chipper, despite the somewhat rude awakening courtesy of the blonde. “What can I help the four of you with today? Perhaps in need of some more firepower for your men? Hmm?” Hatsume wiggles her brows—a crafty gesture she usually gives to entice her customers while flaunting some incredibly elaborate contraption of hers in her arms. Midoriya declines with a shake of his head, waving a hand out.

“No, we’re fine with all the equipment you’ve provided our group with so far, Hatsume. They’ve been working wonders for us,” he says kindly.

“Especially that earring from the other night.” You join in the praises, and Hatsume readily eats them up as her yellow eyes begin to sparkle.

“Ah, the teardrop earring, I presume? As expected, I knew that particular item would perform excellently, what with its compact size and design to elude suspicion, along with its vast set of features—”

“Come on, quit yapping already! We’re here for business, not to give our fucking reviews,” Bakugou dispels the girl’s incessant ramblings with his ill-tempered tone.

Todoroki steps forward, following in the blonde’s approach. “He’s right. Excuse us, Hatsume, but we wanted to ask you about something we encountered last night,” he explains, hand digging into his coat pocket to procure the ziploc bag containing their item of inquiry—the bullet.

Your hands glow magenta; your quirk lifts the bullet from the plastic and into the air to prevent Hatsume from needing to touch it directly for examination. As it hovers in front of her, Hatsume’s eyes start to gleam a brighter amber yellow inactivation of her quirk, allowing her to scrupulously inspect every detail down to even smidgen of a scratch.

A few hums leave her lips the more she tilts her head at the object, index finger steady beneath her chin.

“Well?” you ask, a tad impatient for answers as are the other three. Hatsume gives the bullet one last look before turning to you, a somewhat uncertain look on her face.

“Just who did you retrieve this bullet from?”

“A henchman from the Shie Hassaikai yakuza fired this at us last night while we were in a scuffle with them,” Todoroki answers with Midoriya continuing.

“We managed to avoid getting hit by it thanks to a comrade of ours.”

“Hah, as if those jokers could pose even a threat to us with flimsy weapons like these.” Bakugou punctuates with his arrogant poise, and you playfully roll your eyes at his comment before returning to the situation at hand.

“Still, for us to not recognize something as ordinary as a bullet like this is concerning, adding onto the fact they were willing to use this instead of facing them head-on with their quirks,” you add. There’s a silence lingering in the air at your words, but it eventually isn’t long until Hatsume says her piece.

“Well, after seeing this, I suppose the talk going around the crime groups is true after all.”

The four of you exchange peculiar looks, inquisitive at the mention of such “talks”.

“What ‘talk’?” Midoriya asks, voice dipping low for his standards.

Taking a seat at her workbench while facing her four guests, Hatsume’s expression grows unusually serious.

“Some of my clients have spoken about some shady business going on in the underground recently.”

“Shady business?” Bakugou repeats vehemently, eyebrow quirked.

“This is the first I’ve heard of this,” Todoroki comments, growing wary at the shift in the situation.

“We practically have total control of the black market on the east side of Japan. What shit could be going on under our fucking radar?” The blonde’s eyes flare a menacing red over the news.

“To begin,” Hatsume continues, “my clients have spoken about a new weapon being spread around amongst many criminal gangs. It’s no surprise you haven’t heard of it actually. The ones producing them have made sure to evade the gaze of your mafia group by offering them to those in the west, and have only recently moved to the east.”

“They didn’t want us to intervene and mess with their steady business on the black market, I’m assuming,” you add, and Hatsume nods at your conjecture.

“Likely. Anyways, this weapon didn’t seem like a big deal at first. Just some talk about a bullet similar to the one here.” Hatsume gestures to the transparent bag. “But a bit of prodding later, I learned that the contents inside the bullet actually contain a drug created by a scientist, which was forcibly taken by the Shie Hassaikai yakuza.”

Midoriya, Bakugou, and Todoroki are immediately attentive at the name, their expressions soon altering into revulsion as if a vile stench had suddenly wafted into the air, turning the atmosphere sour.

“So the yakuza made out with some stolen research and are mass producing these bullets onto the black market behind our backs, correct?” Todoroki relays the info with malice prevalent in his timbre.

“Those fuckers. Thinking they can do whatever the fuck they want, huh?” Bakugou’s teeth grit at every word uttered under his breath, fists clenching together. “They’re asking for it now.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Kacchan. We’ll make sure each and every one of them is delivered the punishment they deserve.” Midoriya joins his fellow mafia bosses in the menacing pressure exuding from them. His smile is far from genuine—two-faced with intense animosity emanating from just a simple glance.

Having been by their side through situations similar to this level of tension, you’re very much used to witnessing these expressions painted on each of their faces—such as a time when their shipment of goods came far delayed due to a few lackeys’ miscalculations. In turn, Yuuei had lost a bit of time in their well thought out schedule, which was something Deku, Ground Zero, and Mercury were not at all happy about as they thrived on pure efficiency. To make the story short, those henchmen had received a rather brutal ending for their errors when the three were done with them.

Since then, the trio have let it become a lesson learned not to rely on a bunch of simpletons to carry out such important tasks. As a result, the mafia group had become more efficient from then on out, now centering around your smaller group of elites in the aftermath of the events.

You have to admit, seeing the three so riled up is quite attractive in your eyes. They were already charismatic on their own—being in their presence gave you a very tasteful glance of their domineering aura. But in action, that charisma somehow manifested many times stronger, and when in pursuit with such determination in hand, it felt like they could do just about anything they set their minds to.

However, there are times when you knew you needed to step forward and become their sense of reasoning, lest they walk through fog with no sense of direction. Now is one of those times.

“Well, to start, we need some leads.” You join in, and the three turn to you, ready for what their right-hand woman has to say. “Hatsume, do you know what the drug does?”

The girl shakes her head, much to your dismay, but offers a hunch. “I can only assume it must disrupt the body in some way on contact.”

“It’s a good thing Kacchan didn’t get hit by it then,” Midoriya comments.

“Shut up, Deku.” Bakugou harshly jabs his elbow into the young man’s sides, annoyed.

“Now’s not the fucking time.”

“Right, right… My apologies…” Midoriya replies, holding no ill will at his partner, despite his rough demeanor. The trivial exchange between the two quickly ceases. You decide to resume your questions directed at the craftswoman.

“Alright then… How about the scientist that created the drug? Do you have any info on them?”

Musing in thought, Hatsume’s eyes draw to the ceiling as she rummages through her head to recollect her memories.

“Hmm… What I have heard is that the yakuza had infiltrated a place located in the corner of Kamino Ward in Yokohama to obtain the drug.”

“So that must be where this scientist’s laboratory or base of operations must be then. Kamino Ward.” Todoroki guesses and the girl gives him a brief nod.

“Then that’s where we’re going next. We’re gonna find this scientist and get the info we need, even if we need to beat it out of them!” Bakugou exclaims, voice thundering throughout the workshop as his palm emits a small, concentrated burst of fire while coming in contact with his fist. “Not a single one of those half-rate yakuza asswipes are getting away, pulling this shit on us.”

“Though I have to warn you,” Hatsume interrupts forebodingly as a shadow casts over her features, “there have been rumors of people disappearing around those parts.”

You lift a brow, suspicious at the meaning behind those claims.

“Disappearing?”

“That’s right. Anyone that so much as approaches that area ends up poofing out of existence.” She emphasizes this notion by springing her arms outward.

“Oh? Sounds a bit… far-fetched.” you reason, adamant on the idea that no such thing could happen without natural causes. After all, quirks are biological phenomena. Nothing as supernatural as disappearing from existence should be occurring, right?

“No, Angel Face, it sounds more than just far-fetched. It’s more like a load of bullshit to me,” Bakugou chimes in, bolstering your doubt against it.

“Probably something stirred up to keep people off this scientist’s back,” Midoriya speculates. “He’s already had his research stolen from him. I’m sure he wouldn’t want a repeat of that.”

As he appears behind you, Todoroki lays a hand on your shoulder reassuringly. “Even if something like that is true, I doubt it could truly pose a threat against us, considering who we are.” His hand dips down to find yours before lifting it above your shoulder to lay a quick kiss on your fingertips. You smile at both his words and his touching gestures.

Ignoring the affectionate display, the girl only shrugs. “That’s what I’ve been hearing is all, but I suppose you could take it with a grain of salt.”

Despite the ominous admonition, Midoriya gives Hatsume a grin before reaching into the pocket of his coat. “Thank you for the warning, Hatsume,” he sets a wad of cash down on the workbench in front of her, “along with the valuable set of information. We’ll be sure to put everything you told us to good use.”

She returns the smile, fingers curling around the stack furtively. “Well, a pleasure doing business with you, Yuuei. And remember, my services will always be available to you when you need it.”

“Dutifully noted.”

#bnha x reader #todoroki x reader #bakugou x reader #midoriya x reader #mha x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #bnha imagine #bakugou imagine #todoroki imagine #midoriya imagine #bakugo x reader #shouto x reader #izuku x reader

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subbing-for-clones · 4 years ago

Text

The Alpha and The Omega Part 3

Alpha Maul x Omega Reader

Word Count: 5k

WARNINGS: Mentions of murder, talk of slavery, mentions of guns and other various bounty hunting shenanigans

PREVIOUS NEXT MASTERLIST

Maul didn’t know what to expect when he entered your ship; he had tried not to have any expectations. The main entrance opened up to the cargo bay that took up the whole footprint of the ship. He could see the cryo-freezer and storage in one corner and made a mental note to look into getting one for his own ship; he may not mind the smell of the bodies he collected but he preferred the idea of handing in quarries that weren’t decomposing by the time he turned them in. Labeled crates of food supplies and ammunition lined the walls along with a surprisingly high amount of medical equipment. The center was left open, for training purposes he guessed. He had thought that this layout was fairly standard for a high-ranking hunter and despite his best efforts not to assume what he would find on the upper level he was astonished.

You obviously lived here full time on the ship you had fondly referred to as the Wolf, the hatch opened up into a hallway from where he could see the door to your cabin left open. He fought the urge to look inside out of respect and followed you through the common area toward the cockpit. He did allow himself to stay a few steps behind you so he could glance around.

The kitchen had been expanded from a small standard kitchenette to a more comfortable cooking space with a large pantry. A quality wooden table sat off to the side with some kind of potted green fern in its center, rather than a flimsy durasteel counter. Plush rugs of different colors had been scattered along the floor and a doorless closet imbedded in the wall showed massive amounts of folded blankets and extra pillows along with other soft looking comfort items. Post cards from countless planets littered the walls surrounding the space. You had even managed to fit a sofa and bookshelf in one of the corners without making it seem over crowded.

He didn’t say a word as he sat in the co-pilot’s chair beside you, setting his worn bag on the floor next to him. You had even managed to decorate this space; warm blankets hung over the backs of the chairs and photos of you with other hunters hung on the walls that lacked control panels. Some of the photos were located in bars, others looked like more traditional hunting parties; friends with their arms around each other in front of massive beasts that lay slain. In one, he recognized the Mandalorian he had met on Tatooine pissing into a Sarlacc pit with you laughing boisterously in the side of the frame with your head thrown back. Something in his hindbrain whispered to him.

Omega makes it home.

He blinked his attention back to you when he realized you had said something.

“You alright Maul?” you asked him again when the fog left his eyes.

“Yes, my apologies, I have just never seen a ship like this before.”

“Yeah, I move around a lot so over the years I made it more comfortable. Easier than having a home base like some of the others try to keep, cheaper too,” Maul nodded in understanding before turning back to you once you had broken through the atmosphere and started tapping away at the nav computer.

“Where are we going for the first quarry?”

“We’ve got a runaway wife of some rich wannabe crime lord. Need to bring her back alive for the whole sum or dead for only twenty five percent. Last seen on Anaxes, guess she liked tinkering with the ships back home, probably hiding out as a mechanic or something there. I want the whole purse. I know you like bringing them back cold but I’m not settling for a fraction of the price.”

“Runaway wife should be easy,” he folded his arms as he studied the hologram the puck projected.

“Should be, I’m not worried about her. She’s young and pretty, I’d be shocked if she didn’t have at least a few guys keeping an eye on her; but them we can kill,” you pulled back a lever and the stars stretched around the Wolf throwing the two of you through hyperspace. You leaned back in the chair and kicked your feet up.

“Listen, I’m not one to beat around the bush. I picked her to grab first because I doubt we’re going to run into a situation with her where my life will depend on you not fucking me over,” you turned your head to meet his eyes that were already on you, “I know you’re a dark force wielder and I know you can feel that I am a force user too.”

Maul’s top lip pulled up in a snarl and his eyes narrowed, “are you a Jedi then? Have you orchestrated this to trap me?!” the hilt of his saber flew out of his pack and into his hand but he hesitated to ignite it when fear pheromones seeped out of you.

Your scent gave you away but your posture didn’t waver, “I used to be, years ago. I was kicked out of the order when my gene presented,” you chuckled, “my master found me naked and writhing on the floor of my room,” your chuckle had grown to full-fledged laughter, your shoulders shook at the memory all but forgetting the pissed off Alpha at your side.

“I- I still remember the look on his face. Fucking horrified when I had my first heat,” you took a breath and wiped a tear from your eye, “they told me I had to leave before I could even face the trials for my knighthood,” your expression turned slightly solemn, Maul had relaxed in the seat next to you. He didn’t think they would throw out one of their own simply because of a biological mutation.

“I’m not doing this to trap you or anything like that Maul,” you turned again to face him, “Bane helped me out after I lost everything I ever knew. I heard a rumor that you didn’t know you were an Alpha until recently either. I’m just trying to return a favor paid to me.”

Maul turned to watch the stars as they flashed by, dropping his saber back into his pack. He hated the Jedi, he had even hunted a few who had left the order or were kicked out after breaking their precious code; but you were different. Cast out because you didn’t fit into their mold, not unlike him.

“Don’t get me wrong,” you caught his attention again, “I don’t dislike all of them. It’s been years since I’ve seen any of them but I don’t plan on burning the temples to the ground. If you want help with a bounty or need some underworld information I’m your girl; if you wanna fuck with the Jedi you’re on your own. You and Cad are the only ones who know about that past and I plan on keeping it that way.”

“I understand.”

You stood and nodded to the door, “come on I’ll show you where to put your gear.”

He followed you out of the cockpit and into the common area where you pointed to an empty cabinet, “so, Sith are back huh?”

He went rigid as he put his pack with all its contents still inside on the shelf, “why do you assume I am Sith and not just someone who dabbles in the dark side of the force?”

You leaned against the wall and crossed your arms, “I lived my whole life at the temple. I never saw or heard of you or anyone who looked remotely like you there so I know you’re not a fallen Jedi. You have a light saber so you’re also not some self-taught back water force sensitive individual. That only leaves one option.”

“I’m not a Sith anymore, my master thinks I’m dead and much like your own desire to keep your past private; I’d like to keep it that way as well,” his eyes narrowed again. He was equally annoyed and impressed by your deductions and his hind brain spoke again.

Omega is smart.

He was already tired of this intrusive voice in his head. Perhaps it was a mistake to come with you after all. His scent had turned abrasive in your nose and his signature was wavering.

“Hey, calm down there, Alpha I’m not here to mess up what you’ve got going for yourself. I’m just trying to make sure you’re not going to slice my head off of my shoulders with that pretty red blade of yours.”

“No, I’m not going to kill you. I just want to make a life for myself.”

“Good,” you turned to another cabinet and pulled out a few extra blankets and a pillow and made up the sofa for him, “you can sleep here, it’s more comfortable than it looks, I promise,” with that you turned away from him and made you way to the cabin.

“Oh, ‘freshers the last door down this hall. Won’t be long until we arrive, rest up if you can,” with that the door hissed behind you and locked, leaving him standing alone in front of the sofa with much to ponder. Even out of your immediate presence, your scent permeated the air around him and wafted out of everything in the room. It was difficult to think, surly not all unmated Omegas were so intoxicating. He shook his head and softly walked down the hall and stepped into the fresher.

He almost smiled, almost. Why had he expected a standard washroom? Of course you had a full sized -sanistream shower and a deep tub instead of a sonic. Another plush carpet lay underfoot with soft towels hanging on a bar. Various perfumy bath oils and soaps sat on the counter top in a decorative array along with a few candles. He was starting to wonder if you really were the renowned bounty hunter, ‘Meg, he had heard about or an imposter living a lie. He would soon find out. He splashed some cold water on his face before wandering back to the sofa you had made up for him.

He removed his cloak and kicked off his boots, setting them both to the side before laying down and pulling the blanket over himself. It was soft and warm, more so than anything his master had provided for him. It smelled like you too, he tried not to think about the fact that it gave him incredible comfort and eased both his worry and his tensed muscles. Wrapped in your scent he fell asleep faster than he ever had before in his life.

You did not find sleep on the way to Anaxes. Despite sinking into your soft bed, despite surrounding yourself with all of your favorite pillows and blankets and even trying to meditate, you could not ease your thrumming heart. Why had this Alpha’s scent been so strong? It made your mouth water and your thighs clench. He had released a new wave of soothing pheromones when he fell asleep and yet they did nothing to calm you. You ached to crawl onto the sofa with him and wrap yourself in his arms, to burry your face into his scent gland and bare your throat for him to… Maker what the fuck? You were disgusted with yourself. An ex-Sith and an ex-Jedi? Gods the trouble that would cause, such wonderful, inebriating trouble.. no.

You wanted to comm someone to ask them about it. You couldn’t call Zeni or Coth, they had been trying to set you up with a mate for years, they would tell you to just get it over with. Couldn’t call Fett, it had been awkward to say the least since you gently turned down his offer for courtship. You looked over at the hat that you had just hung from your bed post. Maybe Bane could tell you what this was all about? He had had a mate before and wouldn’t give you the same answer as Zeni. You sighed heavily, missing Master Plo’s wise words and wished to hear his voice again. Would it be a terrible idea to make a stop on Coruscant and try to visit when you had fulfilled your current obligation?

Probably. Maybe not? You huffed frustratedly and buried your face into one of the pillows for the tenth time. Bane, you’d comm Bane when you had a chance after picking up your privately commissioned bounty. Just as you attempted to close your eyes again a quiet beeping rang out from the vambrace you had discarded on your side table. You groaned unabashedly and smacked the button to turn it off. You still had some time and your stomach was grumbling so you didn’t bother to change out of the long shirt and baggy pants you wore. Pride be damned.

Still, you tried to be quiet when you left your room to put the caf on. Your eyes immediately fell on him. Chest rising and falling steadily, wrapped up in the blanket you had given it, he was clutching it to his nose. The crease in his brow and frown on his lips gone; lost in his slumber. He was handsome when he wasn’t irritated, hell he was handsome when he was too. You watched him for a moment a voice in the back of your mind whispering.

Alpha looks warm

Alpha looks safe

Oh fuck no. You grimaced at your Omega brain that rarely reared her head. You turned and started rummaging around the pantry, working by the light that poured out of the door to your room so you wouldn’t wake him.

When Maul did wake, it was to the smell of hot caf and cooking meat. He sat up slowly and looked around before he saw you leaning forward over the counter, face lit by a data-pad, sipping out of a steaming mug. Your eyes flashed up and met his, “Caf?” you offered.

He grunted and nodded his response before standing and making his way behind you, looking through cabinets. You smirked down at your data-pad and without turning to him, held out an empty mug you had gotten for him. He took it with a quiet thank you and filled it. His smokey spice filling your nose in this proximity and without your knowledge, your sweet earthy smell filling his.

He peered over your shoulder at the data-pad you were reading from. With a sigh you pressed a button to it projected the hologram, desperate for a little space you sidestepped slightly. It showed the blue prints for the assembly yard you suspected she had run off to hide in.

“It’s going to be highly populated,” he stated simply.

“We’re not grabbing her from the assembly line. She may have a price on her head but I’m not keen on the idea of explaining that to everyone and their supervisor.”

“Follow her home after her shift then?” he took a long drink of the caf and plated the both of you some of the meat before sitting at the table. At least he has manners.

“Precisely. Boss said she took a bunch of cash with her so I’m guessing she’s got an apartment outside the complex instead of sleeping in the employee housing. I got an idea where she might be working within the facility…”

For the next hour the two of you ate as you pointed out where they worked on the simpler components. Based off of her limited knowledge she was most likely working with less complicated, smaller parts of the ships. You had pointed out the where those were and when he asked how you learned this you showed him how to find and read the blue prints and get the shift change schedules. All tools of the trade so to speak.

You had taken a shower and after landing outside the city, started to gear up in the cargo bay. He watched with a confused look in his eye as you strapped dual blasters into your shoulder holsters and a large knife onto your hip. Pulling on your mid-thigh length coat, you filled one of the pockets on your utility belt with a few darts of different colors and a blow gun on the opposite side.

“Why not just bring your saber?” you must have looked at him like that was the dumbest question he could’ve asked, and it was.

“You’re kidding, right? You are not bringing yours,” you held up your hand and started counting each finger as you spoke, “for one, it’s a highly populated area and we are both in hiding. Two, we’re bringing her in alive and as unharmed as possible. Three, even if we were bringing her in dead, in a low pop area there’s always the chance someone could see and word travels fast. If you’re going to thrive in this line of work, you’re going to have to branch out,” you rummaged through the large locking cabinet before handing him a mid-sized blaster. “It’s set to stun for now,” you pointed to show him how he can set it to kill and got him a knife.

He took them with a growl, “I am quite familiar with other forms of weaponry thank you very much.” You just raised your palms up in mock defeat with a scoff.

Two days. It took you two days of staking out the assembly facility before you found her. Two days of distracting heavy breathes. Laying so close to him, peering through scopes at entrances during shift changes from rocky terrain had you irritable to say the least. At least he was quiet, kept that damn sultry voice to himself. If he was as affected as you, he had the common sense not to let it show. Little did you know; he was. He kept the sights glued to his face so you couldn’t see how blown his pupils were. You let out and audible sigh of relief when you finally did spot the pretty blonde woman. Her hair tied back and a much too large jumpsuit billowing off of her form. You watched as she mounted a speeder bike and took off away from the complex. You had rented one in town when you first arrived claiming to be in the market for a ship.

You turned to Maul already at the controls, he simply nodded his head for you to climb on behind him. He didn’t miss how you jumped at the silent command, despite trying to touch him as little as possible. You kept your eyes on her through the electrobinoculars while he navigated from a safe distance behind her. Your free hand was grasping the loose fabric of his tunic at his lower back. Your touch felt electric to him.

You watched her dismount and silently followed her through the apartment complex, it was run down and had a rusty smell that wafted off the walls. Just before the door could hiss closed behind her your boot caught it, the fail-safe caused it to whoosh open again. As you rushed into the home with Maul on your heels you withdrew your knife and before she could even blink her shock you had spun her around with the blade pressed to her throat.

“Well, you are a pretty little thing, aren’t you? Now why would a woman such as yourself be running from your doting husband?” you taunted her. You weren’t usually so hostile to unaggressive quarries but you were still bristling at the effect that Maul had on you. Some should-be-dead instinct telling you to show him you were strong. She whimpered as Maul smirked and handed you his set of binders before doing a perimeter scan of the apartment.

“P-please don’t take me back to him. I can’t go back. You must understand. I… I know you do!” Your brow creased at her statement before it hit you. Maul was in the back room so his scent wasn’t fogging your mind and with your nose so close to her scent gland there was no mistake. You bound her hands behind her back and pressed your leg to the back of her knees; forcing her down into a kneeling position on the floor.

“Shit,” Maul reentered the room in a hurry at your curse, eyes searching for some kind of trouble. You watched it hit him as hard as it you. Your eyes locked on him as he sniffed the air and pull his top lip back in a snarl. She was another Omega but, she hadn’t been marked. No Alpha’s scent had mixed with her own and you looked at her as confused as Maul did before she turned her attention to him.

“P-please Alpha. Help me, don’t send me back to that- that monster. Please Alpha…” she was trying to shuffle over to where he stood on her knees. Maul had expected her scent to be as strong as yours was to him. Before this woman, you had been the only unmated Omega he had met but she was nowhere near as intoxicating as you had been, as you are. She was annoying, a nuisance, weak. Nothing worth protecting. You reached down and dragged her by her bound hands back to where you had put her and kneeled in front of her.

“What the fuck are you doing married to a beta?” your finger jabbing her sternum in an accusatory manner.

“I’m not his wife! Fucker bought me!” you cringed at the term. Bane had warned you about Omegas being bought and sold but you had yet to run into any of them.

Maul wanted nothing to do with the woman before him, he saw her as a feeble and overly fragile but a fleeting thought of you being taken by slavers and sold to someone else fluttered through his mind.

No one takes Omega

He growled his disgust at the idea. You thought for a moment, weighing your options.

“Where were you taken, before you were sold?” your eyes held her gaze unblinkingly in the dimmed room, Maul had moved to stand closely behind you.

“Trandoshans, they came and took me from a cantina on Tatooine.”

You rolled your eyes at her so hard you risked giving yourself a headache.

“What in the absolute fuck were you doing on Tatooine without an Alpha to protect you?” you stood and paced around the room, “Fucking stupid ‘mega,” you cursed under your breath but loud enough that she could hear you. “You don’t have to be a hunter to know the whole planet is a slaving capital!”

“I know… I know!” she had dissolved to tears and sobbed her lamentations, “please, please don’t take me back to him!”

“Oh shut up!” you returned and slammed your balled fist into her chin, knocking her unconscious. Maul watched with a pleased grin gracing his face, you pointed your finger in his direction still fuming, “don’t you start with me too. Take her on your bike back to the ship. I’ll take her bike. I have to think about this.”

He growled but kept the smirk while he hoisted her up onto his shoulder. He paused just before passing you utterly amused and whispered, “Ah yes, let the anger fuel you,” before he left. You shook your head and pinched the bridge of your nose.

You didn’t want to admit it but he was right. These years of faring on your own had been on one hand, great, incredibly fun even. Living outside the code was unrestricting but, on the other hand, you had wondered if your soul had darkened along with everything else. Times were not always good. You honestly wished you cared. You wanted to care so badly but, in all honesty, you didn’t. At this point in your life the force power you carried was just another blaster in your arsenal. Another set of binoculars in your pack. You didn’t, couldn’t let it guide you like it once had.

To your relief, he had followed your instructions; he had left with her. You took her bike and made your way, a little slowly. Enjoying the fact that you could barely smell him from your current position. You had hoped that you would get used to it but you still hadn’t. ‘The Bitch’ you like to refer to your Omega brain as, her voice just continued to pop up with intrusive thoughts. More so than after being around any other Alpha. You wondered if the woman he carried at the moment had a similar experience.

The hull was open and Maul had loaded the woman and the bike into the cargo bay. She was starting to stir as you brought the bike up next to his. The fear in her eyes returned as her consciousness did and she started to shriek causing both you and Maul to wince. You grabbed a rag and shoved it into her mouth to stifle her sobs. Once again you knelt down next to her, “Maul, tell her to be quiet so that I can explain something to her.”

“Why would she listen to me?” you rolled your eyes.

“Because you’re an Alpha, a particularly… pungent one as well, I’m assuming she lies on the more subservient spectrum as far as Omegas go, she will obey,” you turned your attention back to the woman, tears streaming down her face. As you had guessed she immediately silenced at his command.

“Now then, listen closely. Nod if you understand me,” the woman nodded still wide eyed at you, “good. I have to take you back. If I don’t the bounty will remain open and someone else will come to collect. You can’t just run off again either. Well, you could, but odds are your ‘husband’ would just rehire me to come pick you up and he pays well so I would take it. You have two options. One, return and play the good wife and deal with whatever comes with it. Two,” you reached into your pack and took out two differently colored capped darts, “I slip these into your bra, you let me freeze you like a good little girl and return you home to collect my pay. After he unfreezes you, you stab him with the green one to knock him out; anywhere in his body. Then inject the black one into his neck to kill him. Once he’s dead you can escape and no one will bother to come looking for you because there will be no one to put a bounty on you.”

She weighed your words heavily and you practiced your patience, truly sympathetic to the woman. You were an exception, Omegas were strong yes but, most were incredibly subservient; even without an Alpha. She mumbled something behind the gag and you scoffed before removing the rag and she gasped.

“I want the darts,” her conviction was steadfast and you breathed a sigh of relief, “put me in the freezer with them and I’ll take care of the rest.”

You reached your hand into her shirt with a slightly apologetic look while you nestled each dart under an individual breast, she nodded her thanks after you reminded her which was which and helped her to her feet. You gave her one last look before taking the binders off. Maul watched you hesitantly as you guided her into the freezing chamber. She gave you a sad yet thankful smile, it was slight but as you pressed the buttons and activated the gasses it froze on her face. Soon, she’d be free. You guided the block into the freezer storage and locked the door behind her before allowing yourself to ungraciously slide down the wall until your rump hit the floor with a soft thud.

Almost forgetting you weren’t alone you tossed your hat to the side somewhere and ran your fingers through your hair and rubbed one of your eyes, exhausted from her emotional affliction.

Maul could smell your distress, his instincts told him to comfort you, to hold you and tell you that everything would be alright. That he’d protect you, that he’d never let anyone lay a finger on you. That your fate would never become hers. Instead, he settled for sitting beside you with his legs crossed, without looking at you he spoke, staring down at his feet, “you gave her a way to take her own freedom.”

You hummed, just acknowledging that you heard him and sat next to him in silence for a few minutes. His pheromones were comforting, his presence was soothing and for the first time you didn’t fight the effect they had on you.

Alpha will protect me.

Once again you shook ‘the bitch’ away and made your way to the cockpit. You flew closer to the shop you rented the bike from and opted to keep the other Omega’s for yourself. While Maul was returning the bike, you pressed a few buttons on your vambrace, calling Bane. Within a few moments the side of his face appeared in the hologram. Blaster fire whizzing by his head.

“You alright ‘Meg?” that raspy voice you loved sounded frustrated with whatever mess he was currently in.

“Yeah I’m fine, listen I got a question for you when you’re not busy.” He took a second to face you head on with a smirk, “What makes you think I’m busy?” as if on que a bolt took the hat right off his head and he cursed. You laughed and shook your head.

“Just contact me soon, don’t die out there old man.” He grunted in response and the hologram dissipated right as Maul was sitting down in the copilot’s chair.

“One down, where to next?” he eyed the comm that Bane had appeared from warily.

“Smuggler fucked over Jabba, a Talz. Last seen heading towards Hoth; no doubt to escape the heat literally and figuratively and hide amongst the Wampa. Can you take us up? I’m starving.” He nodded and took your seat while you headed back to the common area. You doubled over and clutched your stomach, “shit,” the pain all too familiar but coming much too early.

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midnightmoonkiss · 4 years ago

Text

Painful Stings & Sweet Apologies

Yandere! Izuku Midoriya X Fem! Reader

Summary: Rage fueled by failure, Izuku finds comfort in a bar, only to come home to a broken promise and a furious darling. He didn’t mean for this to happen.

WARNINGS!: blood, violence, alcohol (Izuku under the influence)

Category: Angst, one-sided fluff

Word Count: 9k+

A/N: This is my first yandere fic! I’m nervous as hell, I have no idea if I got this right lol. Though I did spend months perfecting it to the best of my abilities! Hope you enjoy~

Just To Clarify:

You’re both adults

It’s Friday

It’s cold and rainy (naturally--)

Izuku’s bedroom has a walk in closet and a bathroom

the kitchen is off-limits

THIS IS A YANDERE FIC!

Izuku is an obsessive yandere~

Cold, burning liquid rushed down the male’s throat as he gulped at the drink within the short glass.

Whiskey, or more specifically - a Jack Daniels, the honey-brown alcohol that delivered a bitter slap to all those who drank its refreshing nectar.

It wasn’t his usual drink, and certainly not one he’d ever guzzle like a parched beast.

Hell, who in their right mind would do that? Even with a single sip, it left your chest burning with its heat.

But desperate times call for desperate measures, right?

Or, more of, self-loathing times call for a quick, one-way ticket to Forget-Me Ville and Cringe Island.

The bar he sat at was lively, filled with drunken laughter and slurred speeches of men and women who have been out for far too long.

But it was Friday night, so who cared?

A rainy, cold, sucky, depressing Friday night, one of which his friends tried to make a bit better by taking the pissed off, green-haired hero out for drinks.

They certainly hadn’t expected Izuku, an innocent little guy who couldn’t handle his liquor for shit, to shoot down an entire glass of whiskey.

At first, he ordered a simple beer - a starter drink if you will.

It didn’t take but ten minutes for him to gulp that glass down, and he was onto his next drink - a sangria wine cooler. His typical drink. He always was more of a fruity guy, after all, preferring the sweet tang over the bitter bite.

But as the night raged on, and so did his inner turmoil, he kept ordering stronger and stronger drinks, until he got to the whiskey. You could say he lost his sense of reason a while ago.

He was still seething with rage, not as much as before but the mixture of anger and frustration swirled hotly with the alcohol pumping through his veins and sitting in his belly.

You could say it was keeping him warm in this lifeless atmosphere.

For the first time in what felt like forever, he didn’t think of you, his precious little darling. He could barely think straight, mind occupied with too many thoughts to be able to understand any of them. It was all a garbled mess, one he chose to ignore.

Was that a good or a bad thing? He’d find out later.

But for now?

He needed another drink.

In the beginning, this Friday seemed like it was going to be one of the best he’ll ever have.

For months this pro hero has been working alongside detectives with catching a murderous villain known by the name “Ghoul.”

They were sick and twisted, their motives unknown, their trail hard to tract.

He had only one encounter with them, but he was too late to catch them.

That’s the day he was brought in to help aid the case.

But, that day haunted him for weeks. He knew that if he had arrived at the bloody scene sooner, he could have captured that cannibalistic fuck, brought justice to those who had already died by their mangy hands.. and prevented the deaths that would ensue after.

He’d known horrible villains before, but this one was different. Their teeth were sharp, blood permanently stained their clothes, and they gave off a wolfish vibe. Yes, a hunter. One who tore flesh from human bones and munched on it until someone screamed in terror for help.

For months he helped gather intel, piece puzzle pieces together, aid with location predictions and stakeout missions, until finally - they found that bastard.

It was more of a hunch than anything really, that Ghoul would show up to that site.

Ghoul, while hard to track, left a pattern in their wake. They avoided certain areas, thrived where the poor were at their weakest. The murders always seemed to happen at the exact same time behind run-down fast-food restaurants.

It was unclear if the sicko liked a hearty human meal with their victims own stomachs filled with greasy, fattening food, or if it was just convenient to them, either way - the perp was too damn sloppy.

To regular ol’ police personnel, the murders would just always happen there, behind restaurants.

But after Deku’s team began tracking where each and every murder occurred, it was quite easy to tell they were drawing, funnily enough, a circle around the city’s map.

It was stupid, childish, and downright idiotic, but damn if that didn’t lead the team to find the cold-blooded killer.

Adrenaline and pure hatred for the villain fueled Deku’s onslaught of attacks, each seemingly more powerful and less calculated. His mind was muddled.

He was filled with rage, finally being able to see the shitty excuse of a human again, but it affected his movements. He was being hasty, careless, not his usual calculated self.

And that’s what brought him his demise.

His shoulder was harshly bitten, razor-sharp teeth tearing through the fabric of his suit and shredding up the skin on his shoulder. Their quirk pumped through his blood instantly, making him collapse onto his knees, paralyzed. He hissed in pain as the sickeningly warm liquid flowed down his arm, unable to stop himself from face planting onto the dirty gravel of the alleyway.

He had lost, and Ghoul got away.

He still remembers it, after all, it was only hours ago that it happened.

The sun had long since set, the crescent moon hung high in the sky as her stars shimmered around her. His wound was stitched up and healed by doctors, leaving only a bitter scar to remind him of his failure.

He failed not only himself but those who counted on him.

God, he sucked.

And so, he ordered another drink.

He wanted to forget. He didn’t want to feel the failure sting at his fragile heart anymore.

It was too much to take.

What type of hero let the villain get away, knowing full well that they would kill again?

They couldn’t track Ghoul’s trail anymore, for the circle had been completed - and they were left with nothing with the numbing feeling of brutal loss.

Hours blurred together as his mind went hazy. His speech slurred together, dull, green eyes unfocused and mouth blabbering out nonsense to his friends that he couldn’t even really hear. It just- came out.

Soon enough, he was being dragged out of the bar by his annoyingly sober friends.

The night had gotten colder since they first entered the warm bar, rain pelted down like freezing bullets flying from a machine gun. A dirty old awning kept them dry as they stood still at the front of the bars entrance, the loud music bouncing off the walls inside echoed down the empty streets.

Heavy streams of salty rainwater poured off the edge of the awning, splattering down into a mud puddle that emptied into the sewer grate below.

Who doesnt love the musty stench of rain on asphalt?

Hell, the smell itself, combined with the strong yet savory scent of the Korean barbeque joint across the street was enough to make him nauseous. He had drank far too much, and his stomach was suffering the consequences. He should have eaten more before drinking. How foolish.

“It’s pretty late, you should head home.” Reasoned his best friend, Todoroki, puffs of condensation leaving his mouth as the warm breath met cold air, pressing a freezing hand to the back of the freckled boy's sweaty neck to jolt his drowsy, drunken self into a more alert state. Nothing but time could sober you up, but damn if that hand didn’t help slap some energy into him.

“Yeaahh, ye-yeahhh.. I gooht you Todooroe.” God, he sounded like someone high on anesthesia after being awoken from a surgery - which he definitely would be able to compare this experience to. Being a hero meant at least a few surgeries a year. Comes with the job.

Plus, this wasn’t the first time he’s been drunk.

He sure as hell hated the aftermath, but some nights it felt as if the hot burn of alcohol was the only thing that could keep him sane.

This was just one of those nights - or perhaps it was multiple nights slammed into one from just how stupidly drunk he was. The world was blurred, and Izuku doubted he could even walk straight at this point.

The half and half hero waved down a stray taxi, street water splashing up onto the sidewalk as the yellow vehicle came to a screeching halt.

“Get home safe.” Todoroki sighed out his nose at seeing his friends out-of-it state, helping the giddy and jelly-like hero into the back seat.

Izuku pouted, grabby hands clinging onto his friend's shirt in protest.

With a half-hearted chuckle, Todoroki pried himself free from his grip, handing the cab driver more than enough yen to get the drunk boy home.

He gave the taxi driver an address, and soon the car was rolling off down the street, Izukus flushed face pressed against the cold, fogging glass and staring with eyes full of tears at his friend.

Though, it seemed as if he had forgotten a promise he made to someone very important to him. Someone who he devoted his entire life to.

Someone who he risked everything for.

You.

His princess who had been locked in a small, dark room all day, wrists tightly cuffed to loose chains on the wall. The only light provided was a rusty oil lamp Izuku had gotten at a yard sale one day. The flame was dull, and left the room covered in shadows.

The tile below was as cold as it had been since the morning when Izuku had forcefully chained you there for misbehaving the night before.

You had deserved this punishment for disobeying him.

That’s what he tried to convince, anyway.

He was only trying to keep you safe! He hated punishing you, hated the way you thrashed and screamed at him in protest - that only meant he had to be rougher with you. You had broken into the most dangerous room in the apartment, afterall.

The kitchen.

There were far too many harmful objects in there!

Knives that could slice your delicate skin to shreds, forks that could jab into your body, hot stoves that could leave you with a nasty burn, and canned food stored too high up on the shelf that could fall and hit your head.. It was for your protection that the kitchen was off-limits to you!

Plus, Izuku, your oh-so kind and sweet boyfriend, had no problem with cooking you meals to eat together. In fact, he loved it!

He felt accomplished whenever you'd hum in approval at his cooking, or even turned on if that slutty mouth of yours just so happened to moan around your utensil.

Those were the nights dinner was forgotten.

But you had been foolish, entering the kitchen for a midnight snack whilst Izuku was out on patrol. Your sneaky little self thought you were clever, leaving no trace of your betrayal.

Until you were awoken hours later by a green glow, blood running cold as a pair of murderous neon eyes stared into yours.

It had to be one of the scariest sights to date.

His pupils were shrunk, green electricity buzzing around his large body. He hovered over your trembling body, a wrapper in between his two gloved fingers.

He was so close, your noses brushed together.

You swore he could see into your soul, as well as see the fear in your (E/C) eyes.

“What is this, (Y/N)?” He had asked innocently, hurt coating his words.

“I-” you wanted to make an excuse, protest, say it wasn’t yours, but every single letter died on your tongue as his face pressed closer, a sadistic smile overtaking his features.

“You didn’t.. You didn’t go into the kitchen, did you?”

His hot, minty breath blew all over your face as he spoke, and you shriveled back in fear as insanity crossed his expression in that way you were far too familiar with.

The giggles bubbled in his throat as he tried to fight logic with delusion, “It wasn’t you, right? Someone broke in, didn’t they? You wouldn’t break my trust, would you?”

His voice was cracking, fingers digging into the flesh of the bed beneath you as his eye began to twitch.

He stared down at you, curly green hair brushing against the sides of your face, waiting far too long for an answer he would never get. His bottom lip wobbled, feat tears welling up in his eyes and falling onto your pale cheeks as his body shook with anger and sadness.

He was already stressed about the following mornings mission, and to come home to his princess betraying his trust was not something he enjoyed.

And so, you were punished.

But he had promised you wouldnt be locked in there for long, he knew how you feared the dark. He had conditioned you to fear it, after all. It was his greatest accomplishment.

You were always so willing to cuddle into him when the lights were off.

A few hours turned into nearly an entire day, the only indication you had of this was past experiences, skin around your wrists rubbed raw from the metal cuffs, and the unusual sting of your ass and bare legs burning from the freezing tile beneath you.

That was the least of your worries, though.

Worst of all - the flame, which was holding you together and keeping you from crying out for help to those who might hear you in this soundproof room, which would no doubt get you a harsher punishment, was about to die out.

That flame, albeit small, was your only hope of surviving this.

Izuku was typically a very reliable person, it was strange for him to not keep his word to you. He devoted his being to you, worshipped the ground you regrettably walked upon, why would he break his own promise?

The thought of being trapped in the dark, the echo of your chains taunting your delirious mind had you close to tears. You didn’t want to be alone here anymore.

You watched in horror as the flame got smaller and smaller, tears now rolling down your cheeks as you pleaded under your breath for it to last longer.

The air vents around you provided enough oxygen for it to survive, but that damn oil..

Where was he?!

Suddenly, the door to his apartment flew open, giggles seeping through the house and teasing your ears.

Then, there was no more light.

A screech tore from your throat, a desperate call of his name as you thrashed around, tears pouring from your eyes.

You felt as if you couldnt breathe as your head whipped around the space, desperate for more air and light as your lungs seemed to scream.

You couldnt feel the cold chill of the floor anymore, body numb as adrenaline pumped through your veins.

What was in the dark?

How big was this space again?

Rather, how small was it?

What was that noise?

Did something just touch you?

There was wind, there was wind, no. A cold chill?

Oh god what was that-

Loud, clumsy footsteps made their way closer and closer to the locked metal door. You sobbed as your heard the jingle of keys, metal scraping against metal as he fumbled with inserting them into the lock.

Until finally, you were basked in the honey-dew glow of the bedroom.

You fought to control your breathing as he dropped to his knees, taking far too long for your liking to get the cuffs off.

But at least now you know why he took so god damn long.

You could smell the putrid miasma of alcohol wafting off him the moment he stepped into the darkroom, tainted with the salty effluvium of rainwater as it dripped onto your skin from his damp, messy hair.

Rage bubbled inside you as he giggled once more at your tear-stained cheeks, “D-did yoou miss mee?” He slurred, a giddy smile on his face as the stale stench of what he had been drinking all night circled around your head like a rotten wreath.

Instead of answering, like you knew you should have, you turned your head towards the door, soaking in the light you were previously deprived of. Even if it was just a mere minute.

At your silence, his smile quickly turned into a frown. Big, forestry green eyes welled up with sadness, bottom lip trembling, “(Y-Y/N)?” He couldnt help but reach out, scarred fingers wishing to wipe away those stray tears from your face.

You missed him.

That’s why you were crying, surely.

He wanted to comfort you, say that he was there now and that you could both cuddle until twinkling dawn.

You weren’t alone anymore.

He was all you needed, and he was right beside you.

He’ll always be there for you, and you’ll always be there for him.

Because you love each other.

“D-Don’t cry-”

His cold hand was smacked away, and his usually sturdy body was shoved back so that you could scramble out of the freezing closet.

You needed space.

More room to breath.

To be on flooring that didnt feel like ice cutting into your flesh.

Hell, you were sure the skin that had the unholy misfortune of touching the floor were burned red at this point from how long you had to sit there.

Not to mention your poor wrists, you couldnt even bear the sight of them being so raw. You were pretty sure they would bleed if you even touched them. Your body was screaming in pain, stomach growing for food, mouth parched from not being given water so that you wouldnt make a mess on the floor.

You were weak, shaking, and afraid.

That bastard had the gall to say not to cry, to look concerned when he knew damn well how much you absolutely despised the dark.

At first it was a childish fear, but the moment he snatched you from your regular life, that fear became a reality. There were countless nights you’d be punished by being left alone in the dark.

He didnt want to hurt you, no, and he never has, but damn if he hasnt conditioned you to be afraid.

Storms were the worst.

What was once a peaceful white noise turned into a terrifying nightmare once the moon rose in the sky.

There were times you were locked in that closet during violent storms, screaming and begging to be let out.

Sometimes you were, other times you werent as lucky.

Though it was only raining right now, each pitter-patter of the droplets against the window or balcony made hairs on your neck stand up. The sound was previously muted in the closet, but now it was hitting you like a freight train on a track that never seemed to end.

You heard him scramble to his feet as you wiped your tears away, the creak of the floorboards as he stumbled towards you.

A subtle bang made you jump, his foot no doubt hitting the chest at the end of your bed. Everso the clumsy one, even in an illuminated room.

Suddenly, he was right behind you, arms wrapping tightly around your middle as his head dropped to your shoulder, nuzzling his cheek against your neck.

Perhaps it would have been pleasant, comforting, even, if he wasnt soaked to the bone. The cold water from his dark grey, long-sleeved sweater was now seeping into your own thin clothes, freezing wet hair sending shivers down your spine and it presses against your heated, sensitive skin. Some drops even went down your back, ripping a gasp from you.

This wasnt comforting at all.

This was suffocating.

You squirmed in his grasp, desperate to get the hell away from him.

You were already pissed, and him wrapping around you and squeezing you tight like a snake to its prey was the cherry on top of your disastrous sundae.

With a grunt, you used the rest of what little strength you had left to rip yourself free from his ‘hug,’ nearly tripping on your own two feet as you rushed away from him.

He pouted at you as you shoved yourself into a corner of the room, finding comfort in being able to see all around you, no surprise attacks from behind, only what was in front of you.

Your breath was heavy as you glared at him, nostrils flaring and jaw clenching.

Truly, you had some nerve.

But it was hard to help it.

He broke a promise.

He never does that, and yet in your time of need- he wasn’t there for you.

For once.

He knew damn well you were locked up, scared shitless, expecting him to return home in a few short hours, yet here he is - looking absolutely clueless as to why you were suddenly so angry at him.

Tears streamed down his drunkenly flushed cheeks, hurt by how you shoved him away again.

All he wanted to do was snuggle you, his body exhausted yet numbed by the alcohol still burning in his tummy.

“Where..” you started, voice low, scratchy, and dripping with venom that reached deaf ears. “Where have you been!”

Just as he was about to open that mouth of his, no doubt about babble nearly incoherently - form logical excuses with evidence to back him up, say he lost track of time which you know damn well he never did, you shut him up.

You hated dealing with him when he was drunk, hell - you hated dealing with his obsessive ass most days.

But drunk? Drunk he got worse. He was clingy, more emotional, and worst of all? He didn’t have a filter.

He always managed to hide those more sinister desires under that sweet mask of his - until alcohol brought it out.

God, the smell of it made you sick to your stomach, but luckily you didn't have any food to throw up.

No thanks to him.

“What the fuck, Midoriya?!” You leered at him, noticing quickly the way his eyes darkened in that way they always did when you referred to him by his family name - the name he hated being called by you of all people.

“I’ve been trapped in that room all goddamn day! You said it’d be a few hours? What the hell happened to that! Look at the fucking time! Nine hours! Nine hours I’ve been stuck in my own personal hell! I can’t feel my fucking legs because of you!”

“I-” he attempted to start, the firm grip he had on his sanity quickly loosening with every shout you threw at him.

You cut him off, again, pent up rage now overtaking your sense of reason and fear, “What the hell happened?! You know what! I don’t even care! Not only did you,” You pointed a trembling finger at his stilled body, “break a promise! Something you swore you would never fucking do, you also had the nerve at laugh at me as I was trembling in fear!”

You looked like a mess, body shaking and bent over itself, one arm clutched around your waist as if to hold yourself together as that accusing finger stayed trained on him. Your hair was messy, frizzy, soaked with sweat and oily as hell from being denied a shower. Your clothes, thin and girly - much to your utter distaste, but to his satisfaction - now damp thanks to his carelessness.

All of this was because of him.

It always was.

Every single thing that went wrong in your life always seemed to be because of him nowadays.

You couldnt believe you let yourself fall for that misleading smile all those years ago, only to end up like this.

A mouse in a lions den.

But hell if that would stop you from squeaking your heart out till his razor-sharp claws ultimately caged you back in.

“Do you see my wrists?!” with a strangled sob, you held up both of your arms to show him the mess he already knew was his fault, “look at them! They hurt so fucking much because you left me in those disgusting handcuffs! This is all your fault!”

Your knees were wobbling so bad you swore your legs would give out at any second, but you’d be damned if you didnt hold your ground to this lunatic.

True, some days he was nice, normal, even. But days like these, or days much worse, you were reminded of just who he really was.

A monster was stretching it. He never intentionally tried to hurt you, your friends, or even your family.

No, he just stole you from your apartment in the dead of night, convinced the reason you were crying was because of the thunderstorm and not because some psycho snatched you from your window like some sort of 1970’s movie trope. That night he cradled your thrashing body to his hard chest with his strong arms, cooing at you and whispering sweet nothings into your ear as you begged to be let go. You were just scared of the storm~ He would keep you safe~ He is the number one hero, afterall~

That was all utter bullshit, straight from the beginning.

And even now he was still wrapped in the delusion that you loved him as much as he loved you.

A fated pair.

Please.

But you still held on to the pathetic hope that one day he’d snap out of it, return to the Izuku you knew from the beginning and not the person who now stood a few feet in front of you, staring with cold, emotionless eyes.

“I’m sorry.” he says impassively, face as blank as a new canvas - unreadable and dangerous in every way imaginable. It was hard not to feel as if he was just waiting to strike, already calculating his next moves like he always seemed to do. It was far easier to deal with an angry Izuku than one where you couldn’t read his already complex emotions, thoughts, anything. He was the definition of expressive, and it truly took a fuckin bullet to the back of his head for him to be like this.

So clearly, you hit a nerve.

Wonderful.

“Oh?” Despite knowing the implications of the situation you found yourself in, it was impossible not to laugh at such a pathetic fucking apology.

Knowing him, he probably was sorry, deep down inside. You knew he didn’t like seeing you hurt, especially if it was because of his doing, and yet- you pressed on.

Pent up anger was a nasty thing to deal with, especially since it’s been brewing inside you for so long.

“Are you now? You don’t fucking seem sorry! If you were really sorry, you wouldnt have done it! But look where we are! You’re such a fucking-!”

“Shut up.” he growls out borderline maliciously, stumbling slightly as he turns to walk out the door. He was clearly fed up, his strong hands clenched into threatening fists, but so were you. Even if you were undeniably frightened to confront him, you wouldn't let that stop you from pushing yourself off the wall - your safe space - and wobbling after him.

“Look at you! You can’t even walk right! How drunk are you, huh? Washing away your feelings again, are you? What about my feelings! Huh?!”

You were pushing it.

You really were.

The entire house felt it, the air chillingly still as Izuku had to grind his teeth together so as to not lash out at you.

He didn’t want to.

That was the last thing he wanted to do, but all that stress and self-hatred previously washed away was coming back up to the burning surface that cages his discretion.

Heavy breaths blew out his nostrils as he made his way to the living room, desperate for you to get the hint from his hunched over body that he wanted you to fuck off.

Yeah, he messed up, deep down he knew he did but currently his mind was far too clogged to even begin to comprehend it.

You were like an annoying mosquito, your words morphing into a persistent buzz.

He was ignoring you, and that made you livid.

He always ignored you when your problems were deemed irrelevant, or when he found you were being far too vexatious.

He always did this, always.

You were trapped in a cell with some asshole who didn't even want to listen to you.

Obviously, you had enough.

Typically you’d back off, go fume in another room or punch the wall till the skin around your knuckles tore open and dripped blood everywhere, making him snap out of whatever state he was in just to suffocate you in his toxic love.

Oh how life proved to be full of surprises.

A low growl of your own slithered passed your teeth, eyes practically burning red as if you prayed you had a quirk that could do something against him.

“You’re a selfish bastard! You fucking piss-poor excuse of a hero-!”

SLAP!

A shrill scream tore from your raw throat, the echo of skin burning against skin dizzying you as you were thrown back onto the floor.

Boiling hot tears streamed down your face as you sobbed out of pure fear, body shaking uncontrollably and you shuffled backward, desperate to get yourself as far away from him as you could currently manage.

It had all happened so fast, you didn't even have time to register it as it occurred.

One moment his hands were gripping the back of the couch with such strength you could see his knuckles turn a ghostly white, and the next, crackling, neon-green lightning surrounded his body, illuminating the dim apartment in a slimy glow. Before you even had a chance to register just what happened, he whipped his head around, his eyes, typically blown wide with sickening love and sparkling under delusional illusions, were narrowed and glowing in a way that sent shivers of immense regret down your spine. His arm whipped back with his hand, the very hand that delivered a painfully paralyzing slap.

He always spoke with his hands, and you just happened to be too close to him at that moment.

The reddended skin of your cheek burned, and you swore you could feel more than just tears streaming down it.

You were stuck shaking on the floor, imaginary bile rising in your throat, and all you could do was stare at him with wide, bloodshot and terrified eyes.

He had never laid a hand on you like that before, you didnt know what to think.

He always promised to do you no intentional harm, to never lay a finger on you with intentions of making you cry out in pain.

He had never acted so feral and out of line before.

It.. it scared you in a way you never felt before.

The gap between you grew, you really were just a mouse trembling in a lion's den.

“P-princess-” he shakily called out, voice weak and uneven, quirk diminishing into thin air like it never was there in the first place.

His own eyes were wide and filled with immense regret, tears already pouring down his flushed, freckled face.

He took one step forward, and you scrambled back, hand coming up to touch at your cheek, shock making you feel faint at the sight of blood coating your trembling fingertips.

You felt sick once again, empty stomach feeling as if it was collapsing in on itself to push even the tiniest bit of nonexistent food out.

You didnt know what to do.

Choking on your own sobs, you tried desperately to shuffle away from him, but he only came closer.

You cried out the moment he dove at you, your hands clasped together tightening against your chest as if to hold yourself together as this bear of a man wraps his arms cold, soaked arms protectively around you, his large shoulders violently shaking as he buried his snotty, tear stained face deep into your unruly tresses.

The stench of alcohol burned your nostrils, edging you on to try and push his heavy chest away. You tried, but you failed miserably, resulting in his arms pulling you even closer to his sweaty and damp body. It was disgusting.

“L-let go of me!” you wailed, your own tears stinging your eyes as your vision blurred and you could no longer tell just what you were staring blindly at, the dimness of the living-room paired with the suffocating embrace of your captor swallowing you whole.

You couldnt take it.

You could barely breathe at this point.

“p-p-ple .. plea-s-se..!” your cries intertwined with his own desperate ones as he babbled nearly incoherently on about how sorry he was, how he never meant to do something so horrible.

“I’m not a monster!” he howled out, desperate words seeping with ululation.

He was desperately trying to convince himself of that.

He wasn’t talking to you at all.

He was talking to himself.

He wasn’t a monster.

He’s not like him.

He’s not like that piece of filth.

No, he’s so much better.

He’s a good man.

No, no, he’s not a monster.

He’s your hero.

He could never purposely harm you.

No.

It was an accident.

An accident.

You’d understand.

He knew you would!

You always understood him.

You were like two peas in a pod!

You forgave him, surely.

Yes.

Yes!

You did the moment he hugged you, the moment he started comforting you.

He was a good man.

How could you not forgive him?

He loved you so, so, so much.

You knew that-

You knew he would never do such a thing.

His breathing was even, eyes wide and straining as he stared at the floor, a crooked smile on his face as he repeated the words over and over again in his twisted mind.

He never met to hurt you.

No.

He didnt.

“Plea-” you tried once more, biting your wobbling lip as he squeezed you even tighter.

“No, no, no, no, no, no..” he heaved out, hand coming up to gently pet your oily hair as if to calm you. His head shook back and forth in your hair, “It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m so sorry, honey.”

There was nothing you could do.

You were stuck alone in a mouse trap, the cold, metallic bar snapped down on top of your frail neck.

There was no escape.

There never was.

His form of ‘love’ far too strong for you to even attempt to.

And so, you gave up.

Just like you always did.

There was no point in resisting him.

Sticky blood trickles down your raw cheek, dripping down onto the chilled bare skin of his neck, still cold from the damp clothes he wore, instantly catching his wondering attention.

“You.. you’re bleeding?” he whispered guiltily, already feeling a new wave of salty tears building up in the corner of his eyes.

His large left hand trailed up the skin of your neck, idly collecting the thin trail of red liquid onto his fingertips and smearing a path up to your jawline, stopping the moment your shivering form flinched.

He frowned at the red mark taking up half your beautifully innocent face, a small cut resting in the middle of it where no doubt the ring he foolishly wore as an accessory swiped.

Guilt made his stomach churn, the familiar burn of acid rising in his throat.

A deep inhale, and he swallowed it down, arm still wrapped around you, languidly rubbing your back as he stared with nothing short of pity at your wrecked state.

Your lips wobbled, holding in a reply as you force yourself to look into the vast abyss of darkness that was the hallway of your apartment instead of his orbs gleaming with concern.

Concern.

Concern for something he caused.

At least he had a heart, but you were still scared shitless and wanted nothing more than to run away. You were still fighting to regulate your breathing.

His thumb suddenly pressed against the slap mark, ripping a yelp from your throat as your head flung back to avoid any more contact. It was then that you noticed a pounding headache echoing inside your skull, yet another reason to aid in the water running down your face. Pain consumed your body, and you wanted nothing more than to escape this shell you were trapped in.

Openly chewing on his lip, both of his arms went back around you, cradling your delicate form to his chest.

Without a word, he stood up, practically forcing you to have to wrap your bare legs around his waist to keep yourself steady, something you were trained to do by him. He loved it when your legs were around his waist whenever he picked you up.

It became a regrettable second nature.

Heavy foot steps brought you back to your bedroom, and then into the bathroom connected to it.

Your fears crept up your spine at the pitch black room you were forced into, remembering how you were in a similar position just a few minutes ago.

When would this cycle end?

Ah.

It wouldnt, would it?

You were set delicately down atop the cold marble counter as if you were a fragile piece of glass, which, in many ways, you were. The tears had at least stopped, but your body continuously shook like a chihuahua, your breathing still hard to control as fumbled around mindlessly with your fingers to serve as a distraction.

He flipped the light on, momentarily blinding your sensitive gaze with its bright light.

Sniffing, you wiped at your nose, watching as he walked about the bathroom, grabbing a wash cloth just to run it under cool water. The rain was still heavily pouring just outside the wall mixed with the loud splatters of the stream against the white sink. It would have been calming had cold water not splashed up onto your bare thighs, making goosebumps prickle along your skin. Your thighs were nearly numb at this point.

After ringing most of the water out, he held it up to your cheek, staring at you.

Taking the cue, you hesitantly took the cool, wet cloth from his grasp and gingerly pressed it to the swelling skin on your face. You hiss out in pain, dry sobs wracking your body at the stinging pain and the fact that he was still far too close for you to currently handle.

The pain on your cheek paired with the numbing cold was a good distraction.

You chewed on your lip as you squeezed your eyes shut, freehand gripping tightly at the hem of your shirt as you listen to him fumble around in the cabinet hanging over to the left.

You jumped the moment you felt his larger fingers ghost over the ones holding the cloth to your cheek, cautious (E/C) eyes opening ever so slightly as you looked over at him.

You couldnt help but feel idiotic as you suddenly felt flustered at the intense gaze he was giving you, eyes now gleaming viridescent in the white light of the bathroom almost staring right into your soul.

It was like he was reading you, pulling words off your own frail pages just so he could recite them to you.

He did this often.

Keeping silent, staring for long periods of times as he tried out scenarios in his head of the words he was going to say.

It gave you chills, but yet, it made you feel like you were the center of his drifting attention.

The sun his planets revolve tirelessly around, repeating the same cycles like a record forever skipping on repeat.

In these moments, though, he became an enigma.

Not exactly something your fragile state of mind entirely needed right now.

You shivered when his palm came to cup your soft jawline, thumb absentmindedly tracing over your parted lips.

His mouth opened, ready to say something, but he stayed quiet.

Mouth shutting, he leaned forward, tentatively bringing you into another hug.

“I’m sorry.” he repeated, the words nearly as quiet as your stilled breath, but you had nothing to say to it. And he knew it.

He was used to you staying silent.

He would prefer it most of the time.

So he could sink into his fantasies, the deluded fantasies that you loved him wholeheartedly, that you chose to stay silent as to not hurt his feelings, and always forgave him no matter what.

That you would forever and always be his.

He wouldnt give you the choice not to be.

He wouldnt let you leave when you’re his favorite person in the whole wide world.

The only one he needed.

And he was the only one you needed.

Yes.

Of course.

You didn’t need anyone else but him.

And he didn’t need anyone else but you.

So what if a few more people died because of his mistake, he would capture Ghoul eventually. Regardless, he would always come home to you.

Always.

And that’s all he needed.

He chucked against your neck, having buried it in the crook as his mind slipped through his shaky fingertips.

The Big Bad Wolf and his Little Red Riding Hood.

God how he loved the comparison.

Perhaps he was addicted.

Addicted to you.

Even now, as he inhaled your sugary sweet, natural scent stained with the metallic smell of dried blood.

Pulling back, he gazed into your hesitant eyes, delicately resting his forehead against yours.

His hair, now dry and no longer dripping with salty rain, tickled your skin, making you involuntarily take in a deep breath.

Closing his eyes once more, he soaks in the moment of your warm body in his frigid embrace, nothing else mattered to him.

Just you.

Only you.

“L-let me see your cheek,” he asks softly, words not as wobbly as before, afraid that if he spoke too loudly in such a thin atmosphere, everything would shatter abruptly like glass.

Your body moved on instinct as if you were used to doing as he asked immediately no matter what, pulling the cool cloth away from your burning cheek.

Resisting the urge to sniffle and flinch away, you allow him to rewet the cloth, holding still as he dabs lightly at the small wound.

“I know it hurts,” he breathes out, “shh, shh, it’s okay.” it was always so strange how his voice still managed to calm your nerves even after all you’ve been through.

Deep down, you knew he was still that loving and energetic boy you met back at that coffee shop.

If only you knew how sinister and twisted he could really be.

Perhaps.. perhaps you wouldn’t be in such a situation now.

But there was never any point in pondering the what-ifs.

All you could do was fight your mind from seeking normalities in such a relationship as this, if you could even call it that.

You wouldn’t succumb to his desires like you always did.

You wouldnt lose yourself.

No.

You couldn’t let that happen.

Or was it too late already?

You hissed when you felt the stinging seer of rubbing alcohol dotted onto your cut, cleaning the wound.

“It’s okay.” he repeats, cooing to you with a reassuring smile that should have made you feel sick all over again.

You let him apply antibiotic ointment and a small cheek bandage, his hands shaky yet careful. You could say he has experience in applying bandages.

It was uncomfortable as it sat on your raw skin, but it’s not like you were going to go and rip it off. That would feel like ripping off a wax strip on a sunburn.

Humming, he gingerly wipes away the dried blood on your neck with the same washcloth, not minding how blood-stained the innocently white fabric became.

Next came your still aching wrists. There wasn’t much he could do for your legs, but at least he had roll-on bandages on standby.

Turning the cold tap on, he lets you run them under cool water before gently dabbing the stray droplets away, careful not to press too hard.

He really needed to invest in softer handcuffs, it’s just- those were the only ones he had, and he didn’t use them often. Besides, it never got this bad before. But that wasn’t a good excuse.

He’d have to order some online tomorrow..

Applying more ointment around the area, the kind that offers instant relief, he wraps your smaller wrists up as best he could, cringing himself whenever you’d flinch.

He’d make it up to you.. Pancakes in the morning, perhaps?

Izuku then begins to sluggishly put away everything he brought out of the cabinet, tossing what needed to be tossed into the trashcan.

He was slow, almost as if he was trying to keep his balance, which he no doubt was.

Standing in front of you once again, he wrapped his arms around you, whispering “up” in your ear.

It was something he would always say when he wanted you to wrap your arms and legs around him so he could carry you like a baby.

But who were you to refuse?

It wasn’t as if he couldnt pick you up without your limbs wrapped around him, it was more for your comfort rather than his convenience.

So, tentatively, you wrapped your still shaking arms around his neck, doing the same with your legs around his bent waist.

“Good girl.” he praised as he began walking back into the bedroom, stopping just at your side of the bed to place you down at the edge.

Numbly, you let him remove your rain-soaked clothes from all the hugging, sitting on the bed in just your panties as you watched him toss the clothes in the hamper by the door

It wasn’t the first time he insisted on treating you like a child who needed help changing, but at least you didn’t have to walk.

It was hard to remember if it was a good or a bad thing that you didn’t care about being nude in front of him anymore, not even bothering to hide your chest as he came back over with a fresh set of clothes - the strawberry patterned pajamas he always seemed to adore you wearing.

You always looked so innocent in them. The shirt is far too large for your frame, the sleeves hanging off your hands and the large v-neck exposing your collar bones and parts of your shoulders. The bottoms were the regular run of the mill pajama pants, soft as cotton and comfy as hell.

The top truly was the part of the look that tied it all together.

He couldn’t help but smile as your arms immediately raised as he pulled the shirt out of the pile, making quick work of slipping it over your cute head and helping your arms into the sleeves.

He liked to take care of you.

You needed him to, after all.

You were his innocent, helpless little darling, after all.

Pulling your pants up, he guided your body down into a resting position, dragging the thick, grey, and black patterned comforter over your stilled body.

Such a good girl.

He tucks loose strands of messy (H/C) hair that fell across your face behind your ear, being mindful of the wound.

He stares at it for a moment, his expression holding that of worry and regret.

Pushing off the bed, he stumbles his way to the kitchen in the dark, having turned off the light as he went, the layout of the apartment burned to memory so he could easily avoid furniture.

In the kitchen, he opened the freezer and grabbed an ice pack, one he would commonly use on his own sore muscles and bruises. It hurt his heart knowing he was the reason you had to use it for the first time.

After wrapping it in some paper towels, he trudges his way back into the dark bedroom, eyes wracking over your balled up form, covers bunched over you like a shell.

“Put this on your cheek..” he whispered, placing the pack just in front of your face.

He would love to be the one to hold it to your cheek, but his mind was still hazy, and his words were still slurred. Events could sure as hell sober you up a bit, but damn did that nausea always come back crashing in through the brittle window full force when you’d least expect it.

Rummaging through the drawers once more, he picked up some of his own fresh clothes and made his way into the bathroom again.

All he wants is to sleep, but he also didnt want you to smell dried sweat and rain on his being throughout the night.

He knew you missed him, him and his warmth, you always did, right? No question about it. You must be longing for him even now.

Wanting him to hold and comfort you just like always.

Numbed adrenaline pumped in his veins as he stepped into the shower, letting the warm water wash away his filth and regrets.

God, it felt so good to be able to somewhere warm for once.

The entire night he’s felt nothing but cold.

Not even the fire in his belly or the breath stolen from his lungs could’ve warmed him up.

He was mad at himself. Mad that he lost control and hurt the one thing that mattered the most to him.

Mad that he let himself get disgustingly drunk.

Mad that he walked in the rain like a dumbass just to soak your clothes and make you feel as cold as him.

But at the moment, too many thoughts were flying in his mind for him to properly think, no, he couldnt really even say he was thinking at all.

He was just letting the water splatter on the back of his neck, forehead resting on the cold shower tiles and he watched as water swirled down the drain like a whirlpool. His hair stuck to his cheeks like glue, but he couldn’t find himself caring.

Absentmindedly, his fingers brush across the fresh scar on his broad shoulder.

He swore the longer he stood there, watching the clear flow of water, the looser his grip on himself became.

He couldnt really say he felt anything at all anymore.

When did he lose himself?

Was he ever even really found?

Ah.

With you.

You were the missing piece in his complicated and skull biting puzzle, the one who made him whole and lit up his dull life. You were the reason he felt things anymore, you were the reason he still managed to get up and save people with a clear conscious.

You always had such a positive impact on his life, and he knew he had just as good a one on yours.

A wobbly smile tore his flushed face in two, you both really did need eachother.

He was so happy to have you in his life.

Knowing you’d never leave him.

Turning the boiling hot water off, he stepped out, the plushness of the bath-mat embracing his wet feet as water continued to pour down his nude body.

It felt, it felt so hot suddenly.

His breath came out in exaggerated pants, hands sweeping his hair from his face as the burn of bile rose in his throat.

Lunging for the toilet, he emptied his stomach into the glistening white bowl.

Gasping for air, Izuku whipped his mouth on the back of his hand, still trying to catch his breath as he fumbled to flush.

God, he needed to sit down.

Shakily turning the bathroom faucet on, he washed his hand, making quick work of brushing his teeth before lazily drying himself off.

Ignoring the other clothes he brought in, the toned hero simply pulled on a pair of black boxers before walking out of the bathroom.

Green eyes immediately looked at your form, just to see the soft rise and fall of your chest as you soundly slept, the ice pack sitting comfortably on your cheek.

You looked so adorable.

You always did.

Smiling once more, he walked over to the bed, pulling back the sheets just to slide his larger, warm body in and next to your own.

He sighs blissfully the moment he tugs you into his embrace, relishing in the feeling of your soft body against him.

Removing the icepack from your cheek, not wanting you to awake to a cheek burning from the cold, he places it on the nightstand before snuggling closer to you.

You always fit so perfectly in his big arms.

You were meant to be by his side.

And you loved it, didn’t you?

Eventually, he fell asleep, soft snores echoing around the quiet room filled with the downpour of rain still pouring down outside the large glass windows,

But you were still wide awake.

It was hard to remember the last time you got a good night’s rest, especially when the room was spine-chillingly dark..

Hard to remember what life was like before you even met your own personal nightmare.

You were used to the exhaustion, the dark circles kissing at the skin under your eyes becoming normal the day you were brought here.

Oh, how foolish you were.

You should have locked your window that fateful night.

But heroes are quite stealthy, aren’t they?

Was this even reality at this point? Or all just a figment of your imagination, protecting you from the true horrors before your very eyes.

Either answer wasnt one you wanted.

But you never had a choice.

Tears slipping from your eyes like they always seemed to do, you stared longingly off into the distance, the warmth pressed against your back pulling you further into your own bubbling madness.

All it took was a signal thought for this to all become normal.

For the pain to wash away with your tears.

‘Maybe this is ok.’

753 notes · View notes

suganovakawa · 4 years ago

Text

𝐒𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐄 .

PAIRINGS : tooru oikawa x fem! reader

GENRE : angst , romance

WARNINGS : cursing , implied car accident

SYNOPSIS : tooru doesn’t understand how special you are to him until he comes close to losing you forever . as he struggles to comes to grips with his feelings and balance it with his future , you still have to recover from your own injuries , but without your memories to assist you .

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐖𝐎 < [ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 ] > 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 .

it wasn’t your fault seijoh lost to karasuno . . . so why did tooru look so mad at you ?

word count : 2.3k

saudade masterlist.

SAUDADE

( 𝐧 . ) a nostalgic longing to be near again to something or someone that is distant , or that has been loved and then lost ; “ the love that remains ”

⠀you were right.

⠀karasuno did practice a lot.

⠀holy shit, when did they become this good?

⠀goddammit, why did you have to be right?

⠀you could see the struggle your team was going through with the first set. oikawa told them to not underestimate the underdog team, but you could tell there was a subconscious feeling of pride in their chests from beating them in the preliminaries months ago. but like tooru said, there was no point in you making any interjections; just be the cute little manager, and everything should go smooth sailing from there.

⠀the karasuno first years were noticeably better. everyone in the gym, players and regular spectators alike, could see it. namely, the setter and that peculiar middle blocker. you remembered them vaguely from the prelims; oikawa disliked them, the setter in particular. number nine - tobio kageyama, from kitagawa daiichi.

⠀you watched one of kageyama's middle school games with tooru, before you two started dating. the infamous "king of the court"; you didn't realize it was meant to be derogatory until you witnessed the setter in action. tooru seemed somewhat smug with his actions on the court, bossing everyone around and setting without much thought for the other players' preferences. the court was a kingdom, and kageyama was at the top of the monarchy - that kingdom would soon be his downfall.

⠀you've never heard of the short middle blocker until the start of the preliminaries. you originally thought he was a water boy or an assistant to the team until you saw his jersey. your next assumption was a pinch server or even a defense specialist.

⠀no, he was on the starting lineup.

⠀right in the middle block position.

⠀you were beyond surprised with the kid. their quick attack was a force to be reckoned with. you weren't there the day of the practice match, so this was your first time being exposed to karasuno's secret weapon. those crows were no longer flightless. you still sometimes marvel at the fact seijoh managed to seal the third set. the next loss against shiratorizawa felt more disheartening than usual, after having to fight so hard for it.

⠀the entirety of the last set had you on the edge of your seat. for the entire game you were doing something; whether you joined in on the audience chants, handing out water bottles and towels, or even giving some friendly words of encouragement. you attempted to talk to your boyfriend during timeouts, but he was completely uninterested, his focus only on the game.

⠀by now, the other players caught onto his neglect towards you, and did their best to support you in any way they could. yahaba mainly kept you company during the game, since he was a pinch server. during timeouts, makki and mattsun would give you pats on the shoulder during timeouts, taking every opportunity to thank you whenever you did something for them. as for iwaizumi - he gave you the most attention during timeouts. the ace hardly left your side, even while the captain explained something to the entire team. you were thankful for hajime's friendliness, but there was still a sharp pain in your chest from tooru. the wall that separated the two of you grew more with each day, and you still hadn't figured out a way to break it.

⠀"you got this, seijoh!" you raised an enthusiastic fist in the air when the whistle called for the end to another timeout. the lineup turned to face you, each of them giving you a thumbs-up and a smile in acknowledgement. you looked to your brunet boyfriend, who mustered a small smile and a nod of his head before returning to the court.

⠀aoba johsai was already at match point - victory was so close, couldn't they just push for one more?

⠀the opposing school looked like they reached a second wind at the very end, something that seijoh did not need at a moment like this. karasuno pulled stunt after stunt; the players could hardly keep up with every move. your eyes are locked on oikawa, pupils shaking with fear as kageyama scored a deuce with a notorious setter dump - you felt the apprehension as tooru's jaw grew physically taut for being bested by a first year.

⠀and just when you thought it couldn't get any worse -

⠀your mind went blank when your eyes witnessed tooru's arms miss the final receive.

⠀your brain went numb as the gym went silent, eyes on the ball that flew out of bounds, with no possible way of passing back into the game. karasuno screamed for joy but your ears blocked out the sound like a busted speaker, watching the cloud of disappointment rain over the players on your side of the court, one by one.

⠀aoba johsai... lost.

⠀and it wasn't to shiratorizawa.

⠀you could hardly process the information as you stood up to join the team in paying respects to the game, watching as seijoh thanked their audience for coming to support them. a lump caught in your throat as you watched the team walked back with little to no pep in their step, grabbing their belongings silently and walking out the gym. their eyes were glossy with disappointment.

⠀you jogged up to the brunet as he came back from searching for any other teammates lagging behind, swallowing the nervous lump as you spoke, your voice filled with concern.

⠀"tooru, you did great out there," you reassured him. by the look in his eyes, he didn't buy it. "you did amazing today, and i'm so proud of you."

⠀"please get out of my way, y/n." he shrugged you off and continued to walk towards the bus, his hands shoved in his pockets as he trudged along. he's upset, it's understandable. even so, the painful heaviness in your chest came back as you made your own way to the bus.

⠀the ride back home was a quiet one, the vehicle driving to aoba johsai quickly. the disheartening atmosphere was suffocating your lungs, your eyes fighting back your own share of tears as you watched the players step out onto the pavement, their eyes sullen and dull. kyoutani and kunimi were the first to leave, the latter wishing the rest a goodnight before turning heel and walking home. as for the former, he hardly did so much as grumble before sprinting off. the remaining ones stood there in silence for a few moments, their next plans unclear.

⠀the ramen restaurant was supposed to be a joke - the captain wasn't supposed to treat them to anything but a trip to nationals. but with defeat hung heavy in the air like a dark fog, even ramen couldn't bring them back up into their spirits.

⠀kindaichi and the rest of the second years were the next to leave, their wishes of departure nothing more than mutters as they braved a strong facade in their eyes. it was a general agreement amongst the players that the ramen date would come another day; for now, everything that happened today just needed more time to settle.

⠀"tooru, we should get going soon - " after waving a few people goodbye, you spun to where the third year previously was, only to find that he was no longer there. you turned to hajime, who pointed to the doors leading into seijoh. you looked quick enough to catch a glimpse of brown hair disappearing into the school before the door shut. you and the other third years collectively agreed to follow oikawa into the gym - god knows what he was planning to do there.

⠀you walked into the gym first, watching with a solemn expression as you watched the setter attempt to put up the net all on his own. he seemed hardly fazed at the sound of the gym doors opening, ignoring the others as he continued.

⠀iwa was the first person to step forward, and you watched as the ace moved to help oikawa in setting up the net. makki and mattsun followed suit not long after him. you didn't exactly know how to help with the net, and thus had to sit to the side as the four began to play two on two, their voices gone and the scrimmage as good as mute. you sat on the side, spectating the match with your arms around your knees. you felt no obligation to go home - not yet.

⠀about an hour had passed, and the third years had enough. two on two was much more work than six on six, and everyone besides oikawa was ready to call it quits. his eyes were focused even when the rest stepped off the court, grabbing a ball to serve again.

⠀"oikawa, that's enough." no answer.

⠀"oikawa."

⠀hajime clenched his jaw as he was blatantly ignored by his teammate, but you stood up before he could do anything else. he watched as you made your way over to your boyfriend, wanting to actually talk to him after the stressful day. step by step, you approached him as he practiced his jump serve, his brown eyes flamed with frustration and anger as he moved to pick up another one.

⠀"tooru, please." you stopped him before he could grab another ball, your voice gentle as you addressed him. the others were silent. "it's been a long day. please, let yourself rest. after an amazing match like today, you deserve time to - "

⠀"amazing? amazing?" you jumped back instinctively as he gripped the ball, turning his body to face you entirely. this glare was more intense than any other nasty look he's given you in the past. "what about that game was amazing? the fact that we lost? you think that part was fucking amazing, huh?"

⠀your stomach dropped. "no, tooru, that's not what i meant - "

⠀"you fucking tell me what part of that game was amazing then, y/n!" he slammed the volleyball he held towards the ground, his voice raising higher by the second. "i failed to take us to tokyo. i failed to lead our team to victory. i failed to secure another god forsaken match against shiratorizawa!" he stormed towards you, his eyes ablaze and uncontrollable. "and you have the audacity to tell me that it was amazing? are you stupid?"

⠀"i just want you to rest! you're always pushing yourself to the point of exhaustion! is that so wrong of me to care about your wellbeing?" you found a voice to yell back at him, but retracted it oh so slightly when you noticed his mood worsen. "listen, tooru! you have to take care of yourself, dammit! you did the best you could, and that's all that matters! seijoh's loss against karasuno doesn't take away from the fact that you're an outstanding player!"

⠀the ball that he threw to the ground somehow found its way to roll against his ankle. "if i had just mastered my serve, maybe we'd be the ones playing shiratorizawa."

⠀"what?"

⠀"you." oikawa pointed a finger at you, his jaw tight. "if it wasn't for you being such a pain in my ass all the time, i could've improved my serving. but no, you had to drag me out of the fucking gym every time i found time to practice by myself." bringing his hands down to his sides, he smiled - something maniacal. "you wanted us to lose, didn't you?"

⠀"what the fuck, oikawa?" enough was enough, and iwaizumi finally broke between the quarrel. "you're just being delusional at this point, leave y/n alone - "

⠀"no, iwaizumi. you need to shut up." tooru's eyes never left yours, and yours began to quiver in sincere fear. "you, y/n, you wanted us to lose, didn't you? you never let me practice, and in turn that would prevent us from winning. you didn't want us to go to nationals! you were pissed off that i was paying attention to something else! what, being a fucking brat that you didn't get what you want?"

⠀"tooru, i don't even know what you're talking about!" your vision blurred at his raised voice, your heart constricting with every accusation. "i know how much volleyball means to you! i would never do anything so selfish, i wanted seijoh to go to tokyo just as much as you guys!"

⠀"you are such a bad liar." pressing a single finger to your chest, his teeth seethed as he hissed his next words. "it's your fault we lost. not mine, not the others. you. it's your fault for being a pain in my. fucking. ass."

⠀"t-tooru - "

⠀"get the fuck away from me. i don't want to see your face."

⠀a shot to the heart.

⠀the resolve to hide your tears shattered, as you turned heel to grab your things and leave. leave, run, do anything. to get out of there.

⠀"y/n, wait!" you felt a hand on your wrist, your eyes fairly forming hajime's outline. "don't! i'll just drive you home, okay?"

⠀you shook your head furiously as you yanked your hand out of his grip, reaching for your bag and sprinting as fast and as far as your own two legs could take you, out of the gym, and out of the school.

⠀you paid no mind to where you were running, as your mind memorized its way back home all the way in your first year. large, wet tears decorated your face like poison, your voice blubbering sobs and incoherent apologies to the wind as you carried on.

⠀then, out of the blue, headlights appeared.

⠀where even were you?

⠀you stopped abruptly, wiping your eyes to get a sense of your current environment.

⠀there was a voice in the distance. hajime?

⠀"Y/N, GET THE FUCK OUT OF THE ROAD! YOU'RE GONNA GET HURT!"

⠀your head turned...

⠀crash.

a / n : so this came out much longer than i originally planned— i just wanted to get to this part as soon as possible so i could start getting into the juicy parts . now that we’ve finally established this , expect much much more drama , because this is angst , after all . 👀

btw, if you wanna be tagged whenever i update this series, just send an ask! i’d be happy to start a taglist.

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tokoyamisstuff · 4 years ago

Text

Betrothred Ch. 2 - Illumi Zoldyck x Reader

Chapter 2: Bonding

Summary: You’re slowly accomodating to living in your new household, but getting close to your partner is harder than expected.

Warnings: Self doubts, maybe.

Words: ~1600

Song used: Rise Against - Hero of War

Story Masterlist

The following weeks were uneventful, considering that you weren’t allowed to leave the Zoldyck property at all.

Since you were now considered a Zoldyck, a great deal of people would now see you as their target. An easy one too, because you weren’t even half as strong as the rest of the family.

Some would even go as far as to say you’re now Illumi’s weak spot - even though your husband was confident in his ability to protect you.

Anyway, you would need to spend your days on Kukuroo Mountain until the head of the family evaluated you to be strong enough to defend yourself even without Illumi at your side. Only then you’d be allowed to go on missions again.

Even though you had all comforts one could wish for, it was pretty boring in here with no one around except for this unsettling distanced family members. Most of the time they’d just mind their own business unless it’s about work.

There was also the crippling feeling of uselessness plagueing your mind. You tried to compensate for it through your efforts, though.

You and Illumi were living in the main residence, of course, yet had a wing completely build solely for the two of you. It was just like a small but luxury apartement, with a great bathroom, kitchen and whatever else one would need.

Especially the balconry was to your liking. You prefered to spend your time there, simply enjoying the sounds of nature.

It was a day like all the ones before, with you trying to pass time through educating yourself. Might be useful somehow.

You immediately heared a crack of the main door, jumping up from your seat to greet him.

Illumi had been away on a mission for three weeks already, and you just couldn’t wait to see him again. You stopped yourself in front of him, knowing close physical contact was discomforting to the man.

“Welcome home, master.” Just as you were about to take a bow, Illumi brought his hand to your chin and lifted it once again.

“No need to be so formal” he spoke, and you had to admit that the stoic sound of his voice had somehow become calming to you. “I’m your husband now. Just call me like you did before.”

“I missed you, Lumi.” You had just realized it yourself, yet had already blurted it out aloud. How embarassing...

“Oh? That’s good, I think.” He tapped his chin like he’d always do to muse aloud, trying to cover up that this much affection overstepped the limits of his emotional capability.

Trying to change the topic, you just now remembered the heavy storm that was raging outside. “You’re dripping wet!”

“So?” He tilted his head in confusion, still standing at the entrance as you wrapped a towel around his shoulders.

Hunger, cold, sleep deprivation, pain...

Even though none of these could hinder him from functioning, you assumed the feeling was still bothersome. The cold could still affect him that way.

For a second, you had to laugh at yourself. Worried, about him of all people? Ridiculous.

“Take your clothes off” you demanded, a warning finger swirling in the air. “I’ll run you a bath.”

In his free time, Illumi seemed even more like an empty shell. You could say he was pretty boring, even.

But it was fun to teach him all kinds of new stuff - things he was never able to experience or enjoy. Could he even feel something like that?

Since Illumi was raised to be absent of any hopes or desires, he obviously didn’t follow any hobbies either. Except for work, training and the well-being of his family, nothing seemed to be of real importance for him.

So he’d simply shrug it off, following your orders since he had nothing better to do anyway. “As you wish.”

When your husband stepped into the bathroom you had prepared for him, the air was scented with a floral fragrance. You even had lighted a few candles, enveloping the room in a dim light.

It was hard not to stare at the slender man, but you peeked a time or two: His porcellain skin was covered in several scars, and he was more muscular than you had imagined.

In an unconventionalway, he looked like a piece of art.

“Come on in!” you cheered, gesturing towards the perfectly warm water. As he sunk down into the tub, you chuckled at how stiffly he was sitting inside. “Lean backwards, like this!”

You adjusted yourself on a chair next to the bathtub, beginning to gently wash his hair. “Close your eyes” you cooed, gently massaging his neck before running your fingers along his shoulders.

And after a while, his rigid body slowly began to relax - a small feeling of achievement blooming in your chest.

Picking up a comb from the edge of the sink, you began to run it through his silky hair. It almost made you fuming again about how he once wanted to cut it off, because it was ‘a hindrance in battle’.

Yet you couldn’t help it, for the calming atmosphere made you start singing out of a whim:

“A hero of war Is that what they see Just medals and scars So damn proud of me And I brought home that flag Now it gathers dust But it's a flag that I love It's the only flag I trust”

Illumi’s eyes opened slowly, dark orbs pinning you as you detected some kind of wonder in them. “Y/N?”

“Y-Yes?!” The closeness you had craved so bad had you forget about who exactly you were trying to indulge.

“Why did you agree to marry me?” Now where did that question come from?!

"Huh? I- umm...” You began to stammer, frantically scanning your mind for an answer. “Because I like you, I guess.”

You didn’t dare to say love - not yet at least. Maybe someday...

“Mhh. I see.” Illumi turned his head away and closed his eyes again, almost as if zoning out. “I knew you were clinging to unnecessary sentiments, but I didn’t think they’d go this far.”

Was that a compliment or an insult? You didn’t know, but somehow felt offended.

"And why did you ask me to marry you in the first place?”

You just couldn’t help but pitying yourself right now. Of course you were sparring as much as your body could handle, yet at the moment all you could provide for your husband were kind gifts and actions.

“I thought I already made myself clear: You’re an extraordinary individual, and I thought you to be a fitting mate.”

Wow.

“You must be tired” you murmured as you softly rubbed his temples, trying to change the topic.

How stupid of you to think he was actually capable of feeling such a complex emotion - and yet you were disappointed.

“How odd” Illumi suddenly vocalized his cogitation, then falling silent again.

“What is it?” you inquired as you patiently encoated his hair with a towel.

“How very odd” he repeated once again, seemingly overchallenged.

No use in talking this over, huh...

“Let’s get you to bed” you chanted, still all friendly and he wondered why you’d bother yourself with things he could easily do himself.

Truth be spoken: Illumi Zoldyck would most likely forget to eat or clean himself way longer than necessary. Taking basic care for himself was just not present in his mind, and more than often he’d do it pretty sloppy just to get it over with quick.

Wrapping the heavy blanket over yourself, Illumi’s stiff posture was a huge contrast to the soft bed. Only looking at him made you uncomfortable.

And yet: Sharing this bed together, you were glad that he gave you the freedom to decide when you were ready to, well...take the next step.

There was no need to hurry, he once told you. Since you were now all his.

Even in the dark you could spot the emotionless black pit that was his orbs. But you saw something different: You liked to imagine the universe in them, and the brightw stars to be only hidden from plain sight.

“How do you feel?” you spoke softly, knowing he wouldn’t be able to sleep for a long time anyway.

“Indifferent.”

You didn’t expect anything else, to be honest. “Well, I’m grateful.”

“What for?” Sometimes it felt as if he’d only fake interest, but even that you were happy about - because it gave you hope that at least somehow, he was trying to make you feel home.

Maybe you were just imagining things, though.

“Oh” you started, giggling shyly. “Many things: That you stepped into my life, for example. Chosing me as your partner. Or simply for you coming home safely, and that you’ve let me spoil you a little.”

The absence of an answer made you think he already fell into a dreamless slumber, so you decided to give him some rest. He probably had a harsh mission and right afterwards you had clung on him, almost as if he was a social experiment.

This whole day probably was a little much for someone who had never felt a single pleasant bodily contact before.

Little did you know that your husband was still wide awake, yet deeply buried in thought.

Yes.

Your presence seemed to be beneficial in other ways than practical, he concluded.

But how exactly? He was unable to put it in words.

Yet the rest of the evening, his mind was fogged by your lingering touch and the memory of your soothing voice.

To Illumi, the power you had over him was more dangerous than Nen itself.

___

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sad-sweet-cowboah · 4 years ago

Text

A Tail for Two

Summary: You often seek solace in the form of the most unusual of company. So one day after you find out your father pawned you off to marry some rich man’s son, you release your woes to one of your closest friends. Thinking you had no way out, you never expected your life to take a complete 180.

Warnings: Very mild and brief mention of n.udity, otherwise this is some adventure and fluff.

Word Count: 6k exactly

A/N: Second prize for my giveaway for @nuvoleincielo! I apologize for this one taking so long - I had trouble figuring out what to do plot wise for this. I also didn’t want to surpass 5k words, but it happened anyway and I’m pleased with how this turned out. Enjoy!

Damp sand sifted with your footsteps, a trail soon washed away from the gentle lapping waves of Flat Iron Lake. A steel toned mist settled heavy amongst the surface, giving no leeway to dry land. The bleak atmosphere obscured the sinking sun. It was early evening, and soon you’d be engulfed in total darkness.

Yet you didn’t care. The tears flowing from your eyes didn’t allow much for sight anyway. Running aimlessly across the shore, you didn’t stop until your lungs burned for air, struggling to breathe properly from the exertion and crying combined. Slowing down to a walk, you breathed in the humid air and finding no physical relief.

You cast your gaze at your surroundings for the first time, though spotting hardly anything in this dense fog. The shore stretched before you, reaching into the endless depths of the lake. The calm waters lapped around the soles of your boots, dampening the leather.

Water always calmed you in the darkest of times. Staring into the murky depths instilled a sense of serenity, an escape from this cruel world, even temporarily. Swallowing the painful lump in your throat, you bent down to sit on the sand. It was cold, except you couldn’t care less. It felt soothing.

Wrapping your arms around your knees, you allowed your vision to focus on the turbid waters in front of you. Fish darted beneath the surface, occasionally jumping up to catch a bug. Oh how it must be so simple to live like a fish, not having to conform to society and just relying on basic instinct.

Even without much light, their scales held a certain iridescence to them. On a sunny day they glittered like freshly polished jewels, inviting you in for a swim amongst them.

A flash of movement caught your eye, a glance of color amongst the opaque green, brown and silver. A much larger object swimming amongst the smaller schools of fish. You heard the water surface break, and something splashed. You squinted your eyes to see a figure amongst the dim. Who was swimming in this weather, while the air was this chilly?

The figure drew closer to you, and your muscles tensed. You weren’t sure what to expect, until a familiar face appeared through the thick curtain of mist. A face you hadn’t seen in a while.

“A-Arthur?”

The being known as Arthur rose halfway from the surface, exposing his drenched, naked torso. Strings of lake weed adorned his neck and upper arms, some strung with clam shells. Beneath the water lurked a shimmering presence, the lazy treading of his beautiful thick tail.

Sailors often told the cautionary tale of these creatures, though many people put it off as hogwash and silly dreams. Once as a young girl you dreamed about mythical creatures, and what it would be like to meet them. You supposed that wish would never come true.

Arthur was a merman you met some years ago, after an argument with your father had driven you to seek solace in this very lake. You’d come across a lonely dock that you sat upon, letting your tears fall into the waters below. Somehow your crying had been heard across the lake, attracting the most unusual of company.

From countless tales, you knew merfolk would generally avoid humans, unless they were seeking blood. However Arthur was a different sort, his curiosity plain as he spoke with you. Somehow it was easy to converse with this stranger, openly admitting your woes. He couldn’t offer a solution, though you found yourself comfortable to unload to someone who wouldn’t judge.

You hadn’t expected to call that same merman your friend. After that night you ventured out again in hopes to see him and to convince yourself it wasn’t a vivid dream. At first unsuccessful, he appeared just as you gave in, and thus kindling your friendship with him. Often sneaking out at night to call upon his company, away from the eyes of the curious.

Though as these past few years went by, you’d see him less and less. At no fault of either of yours, he had his life to live and so did yours. He didn’t tell you much about his life beneath the waves, other than he traveled frequently. Though his accent was heavy, indicating he must’ve settled somewhere ages ago.

Now the merman before you smiled in recognition. “It’s been quite a while,” He mused.

You nodded in response. “Yes, over a year since we last spoke,” You responded, though your voice thick from crying. You sniffed in attempts to sound clearer.

“Seems something’s troublin’ you again,” he rumbled, swimming even closer. “I heard you.”

A small smile tugged at your lips. Taking a shuddering breath, you spoke again. “My father… he’s trying to force me to marry this man. I didn’t want any part of it.”

Arthur frowned at this news. “Why is that?”

“Some stupid debt he has to settle,” you explained while shaking your head in disgust. “He drank his savings away and took a loan from a rich businessman. Well when it came time to pay, he had nothing to give, except me.”

Arthur’s thick brows furrowed in concern, the frown deepening. “That don’t seem right, what kinda father would give up his daughter over a debt?”

“Mine,” you grumbled, glaring down at the sandy ground. “We had an argument, a bad one. I couldn’t change his mind.”

The merman let out a sigh, shaking his own head. “Not even my people do that, no one would be happy.”

“Unfortunately it’s common up here on the surface,” you continued, toeing at a shell half-buried in the sand. “Women aren’t respected.”

“So I’ve seen,” Arthur mused. “Humans are a strange breed, pawnin’ off their young over money, yet they call us monsters.”

A bitter smile crossed your lips. “Well, your kind also eat sailors, or so I’ve heard,” as you spoke, a darkness crossed his eyes. “Ah, I’m sorry.”

A smile of his own appeared on his face, though rueful. “S’okay, I can’t blame you. Those stories are as old as time.”

You’ve since learned that tales like that were more hogwash. Sure, Arthur did imply that perhaps other mer-tribes would hunt down humans, but far and few in between if normal hunts were unsuccessful. Merfolk would prefer to stay away from humans, as their curiosity would cause more harm than good in sparking hunts of their own to bring one or more back for money and show.

Though out of the multiple times you’ve met Arthur, by some miracle you were able to avoid the company of others. Usually you two were in your own little world until other obligations called either one of you back home. Sometimes you wished you could join him, hoping one day your legs would mesh into a beautiful tail and you’d swim after him, letting him bring you to his home far beneath the surface.

Dreams would remain dreams. Hell, if God himself would grant you the impossible, you’d leave with him right then and there.

“Couldn’t you run away?” Arthur asked, breaking your train of thought.

You blinked in surprise, wondering if he somehow could read your mind. If that were the case, would he have heard your thoughts from times previous? Your face flushed at the mere consideration, and you were glad it was slowly getting darker. “I couldn’t survive on my own,” you finally answered. “Mama always told me it weren’t proper for a lady to be outside.”

This seemed to confuse Arthur, as he cocked an eyebrow in bewilderment. “That don’t seem right at all, how are you s’posed to learn anything?”

“I learn how to be a wife. To cook and clean, how to make my future husband happy,” you sighed heavily. “Guess I’ll be good for one thing.”

“Don’t talk like that, maybe there’s hope for you,” Arthur said quietly.

You shook your head slowly, your vision blurred once again with a fresh bout of tears. They fell freely, soaking into the already dampened earth. “Unless someone could whisk me away, there’s no hope.”

---

That night, you succumbed to a restless slumber. Your subconscious seemed to be on a loop, playing the same tumultuous argument between you and your father. The warped face of your future husband loomed from the depths of your mind, standing before you with a smirk. Then, you there next to him, staring at yourself in a mirror. A wedding dress bound to your figure, nervous hands clutching a wilting bouquet while your spouse held an iron grip on your waist.

The waking world served no enlightenment. A few days have passed by with no offer of escape. One mid-morning, your father sent you out into town for groceries (and alcohol), a chore he’d usually do himself if he wasn’t already waist deep in inebriation.

Iron-clad hooves tapped against the worn cobblestone street of Blackwater. Dark clouds overcast the sky, and the smell of rain hung heavy in the air, deterring most other citizens. You were nearly alone in the street, aside from the occasional wagon passing you by. You weren’t in a hurry regardless of the impending storm, your mind too wrapped up in your own thoughts to shift focus on nature.

Within the next week, you were to be wed. You’d met your future husband only a handful of times prior to the agreement – he was a few years older than you, outwardly handsome though seemed to have an affinity for gambling. Coming from wealth, money was merely a secondary thought for him. He’d flirt with you, flash a charming smile and run his clean fingers against his neat hair, slicked back with pomade.

Any other eligible woman would be keen to marry such a charming man. Those who congratulated you were ignorant of the true reason, and you didn’t have the heart to remedy that. You supposed the truth would show itself sooner or later, especially since your father’s poor financial decisions were somewhat of a known issue.

Drawing closer to the general store, you slid from the saddle just as the first few drops of rain began to fall. They felt unseasonably cold, which only indicated a miserable ride home. You sighed and hitched the horse before hurrying onto the sidewalk and pushing open the glass door of the general store. You were greeted by the smell of coffee beans and dried goods, shortly followed by a verbal welcome of the shopkeeper. You nodded to him in response and turned your attention to the shelves.

Out of the corner of your eye, another patron partially caught your attention. He was on the opposite end of the shop, back facing you as he perused the shelves. He was tall and broad-framed, with long sandy hair flowing like water to just above shoulder height.

Something about him seemed familiar. Perhaps you’ve come across him before in town? It wasn’t smart to dwell however, and you didn’t want to get caught staring. You instead turned your attention back to the tiers of canned fruit.

After a few minutes of picking through the shelves, you paid for a crate worth of goods and stepped out just in time for the drizzle to turn into a steady rain. You peered over at your horse, the old stallion shaking his head as if to rid of the droplets falling into his ears. You approached him, placing the crate on the ground to transfer everything to the saddle bags.

Behind you, the door opened again. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the man from earlier. He was too out of view to see him clearly, and it would be too impolite to look over.

Within a few minutes the groceries were tucked into the saddlebags, thankfully transferred over without becoming too wet. You wiped away a layer of precipitation from the saddle and mounted, casually throwing a glance the man’s way. He was leaning up against the building, his head turned away from you. He had no coat nor hat on, nothing to shield him from the ever hastening downpour. You shook your head and steered your horse the opposite way down the street.

Later that day, the rain failed to lighten which confined you indoors for a few hours. However, it was nearly time for the animals to be fed their dinner. Wrapping yourself in a thick shawl, you stepped outside of your back door and hurried toward the run down barn on the far end of the yard. The horse nickered in response from his small pasture, knowing exactly your destination. Chickens pecking restlessly at the ground ruffled their feathers and scattered away from your footsteps, only to follow you just a few feet behind.

Stepping through the threshold, the surrounding dampness increased the musty, stale hay and bird dropping aroma trapped in the old wooden walls. Your nose wrinkled as you approached an opened bale of hay, first grabbing a few flakes and making your way back to the pasture. Stepping into the shallow mud and focusing over to the horse, you noticed his back was turned – his attention on a person petting his neck.

It wasn’t a strange sight to see, as you lived right next to the road and the ever so friendly old stallion would attract children and urban tourists for some affection and treats. You didn’t mind; they weren’t hurting him and he was happy regardless.

You could only partly see the visitor, and with a prick of surprise you recognized him, somewhat. You sidestepped for a better view, thus confirming your suspicion. It was the man from the store. Your movement caught his attention and his head turned toward you.

Wait…

You frowned and furrowed your brow. This man seemed too familiar. A face you’d only associate with certain times, surrounded by murky water.

No, that wasn’t possible.

A small smile formed on the man’s lips, a very familiar smile you’d seen countless times when greeted by a friend.

Truly this couldn’t be reality.

“Arthur?”

The smile widened and he gave a small, single nod. “Hey, Y/N.”

Your body seemed to be rooted in its place. Aside from your slacked jaw of shock, your muscles seemed to be frozen. How could the merman you’d come to know stand in front of you, on dry land? You must be dreaming, perhaps you fell off your horse and hit your head somehow –

“You alright?” he asked, breaking through your mental attempts to make any sense of this.

A million words flitted through your mind though none were able to pass your lips. Finally after ten seconds of silence, your mouth moved to utter a singular, “How?”

Arthur gripped the fence and hopped over with such ease it almost seemed like he floated, crossing the pasture to come closer to you. Your breath hitched, watching him move so fluidly as if he walked his entire life. This simply didn’t make a lick of sense. He stopped just before you, mere feet from your placement. Your eyes refused to leave him, wide and unblinking despite the rain softly splattering your cheeks.

“I’ll tell ya later,” he dropped his voice to a murmur. “Right now, I want you to get ready.”

“Ready?” you repeated, your throat choking on the word. “Ready for what?”

“What we talked ‘bout the other day,” he reminded you.

You blinked in confusion, your mind still attempting to process the sight before you. With a short moment you recounted the conversation, explaining to him about your arranged marriage, how you can’t run away, and how you wished –

Oh.

“Arthur, you can’t just show up and take me away!” you hissed under your breath.

Confusion settled on his handsome face. “Why not? You said you wished for someone to do just that.”

“I wasn’t being serious!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms in the air and turning around, running your palm across your damp face. It was a wishful thought, yes, though you’d come to terms with this marriage knowing you had no other options. Perhaps you were dreaming after all, your subconscious mind attempting to reach for your deeper desires to further harp your emotions.

“Wasn’t you, though?” Arthur said quietly. A gentle hand reached to rest on your shoulder, a small action that caused you to flinch. “I saw how miserable you are, you couldn’t have jus’ changed your mind in the span of a few days.”

You pursed your lips, head tilting to give him a sidelong glance. “I didn’t change my mind, I just accepted my fate.” You sighed.

A frown crossed his lips. “Why?”

“What else have I got?” you said with a shrug. “I’ve told you before, I don’t have the skills to live outside of…this,” you raised your arm and gestured to the small house before you. “I could never – ”

“Why do ya think I’m here?” he interrupted. “You wouldn’t be alone.”

His words halted your next response. Turning to face him again, you narrowed your eyes at him, a frown of your own forming. “And where would we go? Are you gonna take me to the lake? I don’t have a fin, you know.”

His shoulders shuddered with a deep chuckle. He shook his head and grinned lopsidedly in amusement. “I know, Y/N. We ain’t goin’ to the lake, I’ll tell ya that much.”

This only further befuddled you, and more questions arose in suspicion. “So where the fuck – and why do you have – ”

“I ask you to trust me here,” he spoke again, his voice soft and even. “If you come with me, I’ll answer any question you have.”

You simply stared at him, a small part of your brain still attempting to make any sense of this. You have to wake up if this was a true dream, mentally willing yourself to open your eyes. “I must be asleep,” you grumbled to yourself, shaking your head.

“You ain’t.”

Your eyes met his, seeing his ever so patient gaze. What other explanation would you have other than a trick of your own mind? Maybe you’d fallen off your horse and hit your head on the ground. Holding your hands out in front of you, your fingers flexed and curled. Everything seemed the same.

His own hands appeared in your field of view, taking yours rather gently. Wet from the rain but warm and calloused, your skin tingled where he touched. It wasn’t the first time you’d had physical contact with him, though you were used to the sheen of lake water covering his skin accompanied with a texture that reminded you of the surface of a fish. Even though he was damp, his skin was dry. “I know it’s strange, Y/N. I ain’t lyin’ to ya here, I will take you elsewhere if you really want. And I know you want that,” he stated plainly. “But if that ain’t true, then I will go back to the lake.”

You’d fallen silent then. The logical process would be to turn away, to tell him that he was wasting his time and go back to his home. However, the tiny part of your brain you’d tried to suppress throughout this ordeal was screaming. Clawing its way from the mental rocks of which it was buried beneath. Yearning for that chance to live as your own woman.

And possibly living with Arthur?

Your chest expanded with a deep breath, shutting your eyes as drops of water fell from your lashes. He promised he’d tell you the questions burning in the back of your throat as long as you’d come with him, and what reason did you have to not trust him? He wasn’t a stranger, had always been nice to you, never gave you any indication you’d be in danger while in his presence.

It still however was a huge risk. What if your father or fiancé came after you? What if either of you ran into danger? What if you would be turned into a mermaid in some way?

“Listen,” you nearly jumped when his voice sounded closer, opening your eyes to see he leaned in. “I don’t got much time out here, I’ll be back by midnight. You can give me your answer then.”

Before you could say anything, he hopped over the fence once again, leaving you gaping after him.

---

As the cloudy day transitioned into night, you relentlessly mulled over what you’d just witnessed. Arthur the merman walking and speaking to you, offering a way out. After multiple pinches and other obscure ways to convince yourself it was a dream, turns out this was very much reality. Afterward, you weighed your options over and over. You weren’t the first to be forced into marriage and certainly wouldn’t be the last. Concurrently, you wouldn’t be the first to flee from an unpleasant lifestyle. Marriage would mean financial security and a fixed, mundane duty. Running away would unlock a door to a world full of secrets and adventure, though can be proven dangerous.

You could be safe for potentially the rest of your life, yet bound by societal laws and left to be only dreaming of what your life could have been.

Your father’s lumbering sounded from the floor below, accompanied by a sharp bang every once in a while. Since your mother died, he was never seen without an amber bottle in his hand. He was simply a mere shell of what he used to be, no longer the man you grew up with. Perhaps this arrangement was his way of caring, assuring you’d never come across any trouble.

But you were tired of bargaining with yourself, trying to make sense of this decision other than the most obvious. He was a stranger to you now, as he has been for years. Should you continue to subject yourself to his wishes, to be miserable until the day you die?

No, not anymore.

When the sounds downstairs finally quietly, you began to pack your essentials. You kept an eye on the time, grabbing a few days’ worth of clothing and a few coveted trinkets: some jewelry and a photo of your mother, along with whichever else you could fit into the old leather sack. When you’d finished, the time was 11:30.

Arthur showed up on the stroke of midnight exactly. You’d spotted him in your backyard again, keeping to the shadows of the barn. You snuck downstairs as quietly as you could, giving a sidelong glance to your father, who was passed out at the kitchen table with an empty bottle dangling from his hand. Silently, you bid him a goodbye as a bittersweet wave overcame you, blinking away a hint of tears. Maybe you will see him again someday, if he were to ever sober up.

Passing through the back door and closing it as carefully as you could, your heart pounded loudly. Arthur’s dark figure became clearer as your eyesight adjusted, along with an unfamiliar horse on the opposite side of the fence. You met him halfway. He eyed the sack slung over your shoulder, and a small smile appeared on his face.

“Seems like you’ve made your decision,” he stated.

Nodding enthusiastically, you replied, “Yes. It took me a while to figure it out, but yes. I’ll go with you, I’m trusting you.”

Arthur nodded quietly, his eyes leaving you to sweep across the landscape before turning his attention back to you. “I found a place we can stay for a while over in New Austin, ‘less you got somewhere else in mind.”

This piqued your interest. You weren’t too far from the state border, although it would take a substantial amount of time to reach it. There was no way Arthur had gone there within the time slot he allotted, unless he’d been on the surface previously.

More and more questions grew in the back of your mind, though you had to staunch your curiosity. You couldn’t dawdle for long, in case some night owls nearby grew curious of your conversation. “Then let’s go,” you finally said, glancing at the horse you assumed was Arthur’s ride. However you paused, turning your attention toward the stallion resting in the pasture.

Arthur followed your gaze. “Somethin’ wrong?”

You looked at him again. “Is it alright if we take him with us? I don’t wanna leave him behind.”

Without hesitation, Arthur nodded. “Sure, you won’t hear me complainin’.”

---

The clear full moon cast a silver hue along the tan landscape of Great Plains, illuminating the paths perfectly. The two horses loped quietly along the rolling hills. Arthur assured there was no rush, and so you had to quell your anxious excitement.

However, this didn’t stop the questions. As soon as you’d exited the outskirts of Blackwater, the first question was, “How are you here on land?”

He explained that merfolk had the ability to grow legs, though not many of them truly took advantage of it due to the fear of humans. It’d been at least a century since any notion of them stepping onto dry land, with Arthur being the exception, only he kept it a secret.

“So…how often do you come onto land?” you asked next.

“Been on n’ off since I was a boy,” he answered. “Truth is, my mother used to do the same. Loved humans, came to shore often. She met my father that way, he was human.”

This news surprised you. Who knew that merfolk and humans could have children together? And if that was possible, how many others out there were like Arthur?

“I spent a lot o’ time on land, lot o’ time in the water. Learned how to live as both, but my father was killed when I was young, so I took to the waters, until my mother passed.”

“I’m…so sorry,” you said automatically, your heart falling to your stomach.

To your surprise, Arthur chuckled. A small, humorless laugh. “Never understood why humans say that, they ain’t the cause of a particular tragedy, so why apologize?”

You couldn’t really answer that question yourself. It was ingrained into your mind that you never had any further consideration. It was an odd thing to say, really. You shook your head as if to clear those thoughts, wanting to focus on him again. “Where do you prefer living?”

You could see his broad shoulders shrug. “Can’t really say, I enjoy both since I can live jus’ fine on both. Don’t take too much to adapt since I’m already familiar.”

“So…what does that mean for me?”

He turned his head toward you.

“Are you going to live on land with me for the rest of your life, or are you gonna leave at some point?” you reiterated.

Arthur slowed up his horse, falling in step with yours. “I’ll be around for as long as ya want me,” he answered seriously. “But I couldn’t leave knowin’ you had no options.”

Those words tugged at your heartstrings. Arthur had been your friend for years, perhaps your only true friend. He left the waters for you, with no second consideration for himself. A small smile tugged at your lips.

---

Within a few hours you’d reached your destination: a small shack on the edge of the San Luis River with a dock. At the bottom of a cliff and surrounded by scrubby brush, it was enough to deter any unwanted company. Even though the shack was fully furnished, Arthur mentioned it had been abandoned for a little while now. He would swim here with the intention of cleaning it up for you, assuming you’d go along with his idea. It was cozy; one small bed in the corner and a furnace on the opposite end. Only fit for one person. Arthur insisted he was just fine sleeping in the water when you mentioned there was no room for both of you.

The first few days were a strange adjustment. You’d never been on your own, at least like this. You were used to preparing hot meals for yourself and your father with purchased goods. Arthur provided the food, bringing in fish or venison for either of you to cook. He didn’t wander too far from you in concern to leave you vulnerable, and you weren’t keen to wander out into the wilderness. Some nights you definitely heard the howl of a wolf or the snarl of a cougar in the distance.

After the first week passed, you were almost accommodated to this new life. Arthur offered to teach you how to hunt and fish, both in and out of the water. He was already swimming around one morning whilst waiting as you approached the glistening surface from the docks, his beautiful tail gleaming in the rising sun.

But what surprise you had when he made it to shore completely, naked as a newborn baby. You hadn’t seen him transform officially yet, and he seemed to lack modesty when he asked you why you were suddenly flustered in his presence. He was certainly nice to look at, even though you had to quickly shoo him inside to get dressed, for your own sake.

Within a month, Arthur turned you into a wilderness expert. Soon hunting for the dinner table, learning to track and cover, you were no longer nervous to step past those surrounding shrubs. You kept busy by picking herbs and catching game to sell to passing merchants, though avoiding coming too close to West Elizabeth.

One evening, you’d come home from hunting to find Arthur sitting on the end of the dock. Only half-dressed, lacking a shirt. His damp hair indicated he’d been in the water recently. You curiously approached him, wondering if something was on his mind.

At the creak of the boards, he turned and smiled at you. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you responded, taking a seat next to him. “What’re you up to?”

“Ah, just thinkin’,” he responded, casting his gaze across the river as the last of the sun’s rays shone across the surface.

You tilted your head. “Of?”

“Lot o’ things, these past few weeks,” he said lowly.

“Why’s that?”

“Well,” he slowly turned his head to look at you. “You were sayin’ that you didn’t know how to live like this, now you do.”

You nodded in agreement. Many times he’s expressed how proud he was for you to learn a new skill, and you were proud of yourself to adapt so quickly. “Thanks to you, Arthur. If I’d attempted this on my own, I’d probably be dead within a week, or somehow found and dragged back home.”

“It won’t come to that anyway, least from how far you’ve progressed,” Arthur pointed out.

Smiling at him, you said, “I’ll be forever grateful for taking me away.”

He half-smiled at you. “I’m grateful you agreed,” he replied, his eyes suddenly falling to the structure beneath you. “I jus’ hope that…” he murmured so quietly you had to strain to hear.

“What?”

He sighed deeply. “It’s silly, but I hope you still want me ‘round. You’re more than capable of livin’ on your own now, you don’t need me.”

You blinked in surprise from his confession. “Why wouldn’t I, Arthur? You’re my friend, you’ve done so much for me already. Why would I just toss you away like that?”

“You don’t need me,” he repeated. “You can go on n’ do whatever you want with your life now, ain’t fair to stay here n’ –“

“Arthur,” you interrupted so sharply he stared at you. “I…I don’t need you, I but I want you here. You gave me this opportunity, and now I’m choosing to do this. Do you know how much you mean to me?”

He didn’t answer, only giving you a look of faint surprise. You stared back evenly, your words still fresh. You and Arthur had gotten so close since arriving here, having opened up in new ways toward one another.

Perhaps even closer than friends.

Those lingering glances, those quick moments of affection, a light touch here and there. The weight of his words when he bid you farewell for the day. Little moments that would make your heart soar. A new emotion arising within you every time you woke up to see him.

What you said next flowed from your mouth without hesitation. “I…I think I love you, Arthur.”

It surprised you how easy you admitted it. His blue eyes widened in his own shock, his lips parting as if to say something. Instead his mouth sat slack, eliciting no sound. You waited for a reaction, a change, a word, something.

A full moment passed and nothing, your heart dropped. Have you misinterpreted his signals? Maybe they meant something else to the other half of his world. Either way, you started to feel foolish. You took a shuddering breath and looked away, beginning to move. “I’m sorry, I’ll just – ”

A calloused hand grasped yours at an instant. An automatic flinch suddenly swept away when Arthur’s other hand cupped your chin, a firm yet tender hold to keep you in place. You turned your head back to him, observing the soft smile on his lips, and the gentle hooded gaze he gave you.

You relaxed in his touch, allowing your body to shift closer to him. The hand that held yours wrapped around your waist, tugging you closer and meeting no resistance. He leaned toward you, placing his lips upon yours.

Kissing him seemed natural. Your previous suitor was forceful and hard against you, but Arthur, as large and solid as he was, melded to you. Your hands reached for him, tangling in his damp hair, wrapping around his thick neck. He moaned slightly against your mouth, a low sound rumbling within his chest. Finally, he pulled away from you, the smile still remaining.

Fire licked at your cheeks, your mind in a haze as your smile mirrored his. You almost couldn’t believe it happened. No singular phrase passed your tongue as you mentally scrambled for your next words. “I…” you finally uttered, unsure how to continue.

He chuckled, smoothing his thumb across the ridge of your upper lip. “I think I love you too, sweetheart.”

Your smile only widened, the heat brushing against your face only increasing. This was a first for you, a rush of excitement and a whirlwind of emotion overtaking you. “Well, what now?” you bashfully asked.

Arthur glanced out at the water with a look of contemplation. Only a short moment passed before he stood up, and held his hand out. “Wanna go for a swim?”

You blinked, not expecting this response. But you took his hand anyway, allowing him to help you to your feet. “Now, here?”

“Only us out here, ‘sides, I wanna show ya how beautiful it is from my eyes…” he said, quickly shedding his pants. With nothing else on, he dove into the water with a graceful arc. Even in the dying light you watched as the skin of his legs slowly began to shimmer and mesh together into his tail beneath the disturbed waters. He surfaced just seconds later, peering up at you expectantly. “It’s nice n’ warm in here, you’ll like it.”

You were hesitant and admittedly a little nervous as you hadn’t swam in years. “Um, I don’t have a swimsuit…” you weakly pointed out.

“Neither do I,” the paper thin edges of his fin appeared, splashing playfully. “That don’t matter.”

You opened your mouth to argue, except you knew he was right. No one was around to see you, and you would be submerged if some random boat decided to pass by. Besides, you were itching to see how Arthur viewed the world, or at least his world. “Alright, you convinced me.”

It wasn’t too long before you too were bare, though Arthur was kind enough to not stare. Peering down at your reflection, you took a deep breath and plunged in.

#Arthur Morgan #Arthur Morgan x reader #merman!Arthur #merfolk AU

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extremelyblackandwhite · 4 years ago

Text

handmaid - 12

PAIRING: mob!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader

WARNINGS: age gap, anxiety

A/N: hope you enjoy this chapter xxx

NEXT CHAPTER

Y/N stood in her bedroom considering Daniel’s words. Clueless. God, the word itself stung coming from someone she had grown to see as a big brother. Clueless. Well, sure, she did not exactly know what happened behind closed doors with both the Stan family and Forrest family business but neither did Daniel, or at least as well as he bragged to know. She had heard both families were cruel but in all honesty, she just couldn’t imagine any of the heads of both families being those monsters people spoke of. She specially could not imagine Sebastian to be the monster Dan wanted to paint him, no. He had kind eyes, he didn’t have the type of darkness that she had seen in various other lesser associates, he had peaceful ones like the sea after a storm. Besides, Y/N liked to consider herself a good judge of character so maybe Dan was just being overprotective.

Annoyed, she huffed, turning on her side with her phone on her hand as she searched for the contact she wanted to call. She took her phone up to her ear, hearing the dialling tone for what felt for ages until the familiar operator voice came through. The number you have dialled is unavailable, please leave your message at the sound of the tone.

- Hi Sebastian, it’s Y/N. I just ... I just wanted to check on you, to see if you’re alright. Give me a call when you can. Okay ... bye.

She sighed, throwing her phone to the side table before getting under her duvet, her mind finally getting time to wrap around what had happened days prior. Why didn’t she feel guilty she had kissed a very engaged man? She always thought that cheating was a terrible thing to do to someone yet right now all she could think about was that maybe ... maybe she would be able to do it again. It wasn’t right but he was just so electric, magnetic even and his words echoed in her mind like a drum ... I’m here for you, no one can harm you.

Sure, she had protection at most times considering Elias and Christian, whenever not in Gwen’s bedroom, were constantly around ensuring that no one got in or out of the house without permission or reason to do. However, protection from Sebastian sounded ... sweeter, warmer even. No man had ever told her they were there for her, much less they would fight their own wife for her (this mostly due to her preference at avoiding married men). It was unfair, very unfair that the very first time she felt seen and protected ... maybe even fully appreciated was by someone she just couldn’t have.

As her mind raced through various excuses as to why she kissed the mob boss, the sleepless nights caught up to her and soon she found herself surrounded by the familiar darkness of slumber. She woke up once again with the sun beams cutting through her window and decided that maybe right now what she needed was a good amount of food.

Going down the stairs, the familiar sight of Amelia in the kitchen preparing a fresh brew of coffee made her sleepily smile. This was the normality and home life she needed after all of Paris’ events.

- Good morning, Miss Y/N. How was Paris? - she turned on the kettle at the sight of the handmaid to prepare her favourite infusion.

- Paris was lovely. - she smiled softly, not pulling too much at the skin of her cheeks as she sat on the high chairs. - Do you think I could have some grilled cheese this morning?

- You can have whatever you want, Miss Y/N. It is always a pleasure to cook for you. - Y/N couldn’t help but smile wider at that statement. It felt nice to have someone to talk to who wasn’t about to married to a mob boss, a mob boss, associates or bodyguards. - You look different.

- How so? - she raised an eyebrow at the statement. Oh god, had Gwen discovered she kissed her husband to be and cut her hair in disdain?

- I don’t know ... there’s a spring in your step, you look very happy. Might there be someone in Paris? - yeah, sure, he is in Paris, he’s just not her someone, he’s Gwen’s. - Maybe it’s the European air.

- Maybe ... You wouldn’t know when Mr. Stan is coming back, would you?

- I don’t know, Miss. Mr. Stan shows up when he wants, never leaves a message, he’s just like his father in that sense.

- Did you know his father? - Y/N had never actually known his father but from what she heard from Gwen he was a tall, stern man who managed to put fear and respect in everyone’s hearts without giving it much of a try.

- Just between us both Miss Y/N, I am very glad he only resembles his father in that sense. No man should be that comfortable with death and power and not fear it all the time. - she shrugged, flipping the sandwich on the skillet. - If I must say, I think Mr. Stan is much more like his mother. I’ve always said this house needed another kind woman after she left.

- I just can’t picture it. - Y/N didn’t exactly knew who Sebastian’s mother was. In all honesty, not a lot of people knew and Sebastian wasn’t one for big speeches about his family. However, she had always pictured him as being much more like his father, a powerful man. - He doesn’t really talk about his family.

- What about you, Miss Y/N? What about your parents?

- Oh ... - she toyed with the chain of her necklace, slightly bitting her lip. - I don’t really know. Mr. Forrest told me my father was one of his workers, never told me much about my mother either. They died shortly after I was born.

- I’m very sorry, Miss Y/N. - Amelia slid her the grilled cheese on a nice porcelain plate. - I’m sure that they would be very proud of creating such a nice, beautiful lady.

- Thank you, Amelia.

- Oh ... good morning, Mr. Daniel. - she pipped up and Y/N rolled her eyes, not in the mood to speak with Daniel after last night’s events. He, however, had other plans as he sat right next to her.

- Good morning, Y/N.

- Good morning, Daniel. - she slid away from him.

- Oh c’mon, you’re not gonna sulk at me are you? - he poked her arm with one of the forks that had been laid out to him. - You know I’m sorry.

- You’re always sorry but you never actually say it. - Y/N huffed, grabbing her plate from the table and walking up to the sink. Dan sighed, knowing that, despite her being generally a kind and forgiving woman, whenever she was upset, she just remained upset for a while before forgetting it. However, this could take ages.

Y/N decided she was still not ready to deal with Daniel or any of his opinions towards her view of the people she surrounded herself with. In all honesty, she had no time to worry about him or what he thought of her as her mind was filled with worry towards Sebastian. She knew he was notoriously hard to harm or even shot at however she hadn’t gotten a reply to her call and knew nothing of when he was about to return.

The days passed by and Daniel had managed to somehow get Y/N to get less mad at him by taking her to see his daughter. Sophie had been born while he was at university and Y/N had grown very attached to the little girl as she had been at home with Gwen when she was born. However, not even young Sophie could take her mind away from Sebastian. Her brain had quit making her feel guilty about the fact she had kissed the man who was to marry the only friend she ever knew and had instead turned all its efforts into making her picture all the horrific things that could happen to him. She knew it was reckless and pointless to worry about him, he clearly seemed to be invisible at what he did and part of her pitied the poor unfortunate souls who had dared to shot at him.

Those days turned into weeks and as the third week hit mark, she was absolutely unconsolable. Gwen was not much help. In actuality, the heiress was rather happy that her fiancé wasn’t around as this gave her plenty of free time to do what she wanted with her newly found interest in her private bodyguard, Christian. Meanwhile, Y/N had taken to spending her days in the kitchen with Amelia and in the library, but not even that could take her mind off if he was alright despite Amelia and Elias constantly telling her it was normal of Sebastian to disappear and then suddenly return.

Nevertheless, Y/N was anxious about his fate, spending most of the night sat by the window, listening as the rain fell down on the bright city that never slept. This was one of those nights where her fingers lingered on the fogged rainy windows, lightly doodling. This quickly grew tired-some and, wrapped around in one of the very expensive white cashmere blankets Sebastian had placed around the house, she went down the stairs and into the kitchen. Mindlessly, like a movement so familiar it didn’t need her attention, Y/N put some almond milk, cinnamon and honey in a pot and brought it up to the heat before taking to slowly mix it with a wooden spoon.

The sound of the bubbling milk and rain was enough to make her feel like every corner of the world was home and as she poured the mixture into a mug, she softly smiled at the overview of New York from the countless amount of ceiling length windows. It almost made her forget her worries. Almost. The heart warming atmosphere was interrupted by the ring of the lift that gave way into the entrance of the penthouse. Y/N turned around abruptly, the sight bringing a sparkle to her eyes. Placing the mug on the first surface she came in contact with, she rushed to the entrance, wrapping her arms around the mob boss as if they had been separated for over 10 years.

- Night, angel. - Sebastian was tired and that was noticeable by the dark bags under his eyes and his dishevelled appearance. However, he could surely get used to having Y/N wrap her arms around him every time he came home. Y/N, on the other hand, came to her senses and stepped back, feeling the heat coming to her cheeks.

- We were worried about you. - she shifted her weight from feet to feet.

- Who’s we, angel? I’d gather we would mean you. - his hand traced down her forearm to her hand, softly holding it on his. - I’m sorry I didn’t answer your message, I didn’t want to lie to you as to when I’d be back. Besides, I assumed Gwen would enjoy a holiday from me.

- You could’ve said something. - she rubbed the side of her neck, eyes fixated on the ground. - I was worried.

- Ah ... - he smirked, taking a step forward. - You were worried. That was what I wanted to hear.

- Well, I ... I just wanted to know so I could warn Gwen. I shouldn’t bother you anymore, you must want to rest. I can fix you something to eat if you want.

- You’re not the housemaid, Y/N. Although something smells really good in here.

- Oh ... - Y/N rushed into the kitchen, turning off the hob and bringing the pot back to one of the metal bases in the kitchen. - It’s just something me, Gwen, and Dan used to have when we were little and couldn’t sleep.

- What’s wrong? - Sebastian noticed the shift in her tone.

- Do you think I’m clueless? - she leaned onto the kitchen’s wall.

- Why do you ask?

- Dan seems to think I’m clueless.

- Daniel Forrest? - he asked and Y/N nodded. - What does he know of the world to make assumptions?

- He’s sort of right. - Y/N took a place on the chair next to his. - I don’t exactly know what Mr. Forrest or you do, specifically. I don’t even know what you were up to these past weeks.

- It’s entirely way too boring besides I’d rather be surrounded by clueless people than the ones I’m surrounded by. You really shouldn’t worry about what he thinks of you.

- Do you worry what others think of you?

- I’ve lived long enough to have certain names hauled at me. Some deserving, some undeserving but I tend not to stress about it. My mother used to say people like to talk about those they can’t be.

- Well, if it’s any worth .. I don’t think half the names I’ve heard given to you do actually have any truth to them.

tag list: @lilya-petrichor @xoxohannahlee @irespostthingsiwanttoseelater @nikkipea @madisonpillstrom @cevans98 @thelostallycat @sideeffectsofyou @anxiousdreamersworld @sarge-barnes-sir @captainchrisstan

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan/y/n #mob boss!sebastian stan #mob!sebastian stan #mobster!sebastian stan #mafia!sebastian stan

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come-on-shitty-boys · 4 years ago

Text

//caution: contents are hot and dangerous. kuroo tetsurou//

Request: Could I request a Vampire!Kuroo x Reader?

Warnings: one (1) swear. Mentions of blood, but no actual blood-spillage.

Word Count: 2.6K (i’m so sorry. i got carried away ;-;)

Notes: Leave it to my dumbass to turn a vamp au into a coffee shop au smh

(Vampire!Kuroo x Human!reader)

It seemed like something straight out of a coffee shop fanfiction AU. The dorky barista who now knew your coffee order by heart, always asking about your day as he brewed your latte. He would write you little notes on your cup, usually some lame science joke that would bring you back up to the counter, asking him to explain it to you. You would watch his face fill with a smile, eyes shining as you take interest in what he’s saying, the setting sun casting long shadows throughout the quiet cafe.

Wednesday evenings had become Kuroo’s favorite shifts as it was the one time a week when you would indulge him with your presence. Once 6:30 would hit, every jingle of the bell above the door would cause his heart to thump a little harder, in hopes to see your bright smile. Your school bag always sat heavily on your shoulders, tired eyes from a long day at university, but the happiness that spread over your face when you saw him leaning his long form over the counter, that lazy smile plastered on his lips, it made the whole atmosphere feel ten times lighter.

Today was no different. You pushed open the door, clutching your wallet, looking over the menu as if you were going to try something new, just like you always did. Standing in line behind the other customers, Kuroo couldn’t help but try to rush through taking orders and making beverages, just wanting to get you to the front of the line, just wanting to see you smile up at him.

“Vanilla latte with soy milk and an extra half shot of espresso,” Kuroo said, already punching the drink order he knew better than the periodic table into the cash register as you stepped up to the counter.

“$4.26,” you answer, handing him your card to swipe, but rather he pushed it back towards you, that staple lazy smile dancing across his face.

“It’s on the house today. Consider it a thank you for being such a loyal customer.”

“I can pay, really. It’s no problem.” You try to hand him your debit card once more, but he just shakes his head, laughing lightly as he pushes it back once again.

“No, seriously. Don’t worry about it,” he says, scribbling your name and a little joke onto your cup. “So, how was class? It was psych and- hang on, don’t tell me,” he pauses, tapping the pen against his chin in thought. “French!”

You tilt your head in confusion, but yet a small laugh still escapes you. “How’d you know?”

“Easy. You always sit at the table by the window and copy notes from your psychology book and your French book.”

“Very observant of you, but I’m just going to work on French today. I have a test tomorrow,” you explain, watching him attempt to make a cool design on the top of your drink, but inevitably failing and just creating a blob in the foam.

“I’m going to figure out how to do latte art one of these days, just you wait.” He smiles teasingly as he places the lid on your cup, handing it to you. A small pink tinge dusts over his cheeks as his fingers brush over yours in the exchange. “Careful, it’s- it’s still hot,” Kuroo mutters, moving his eyes down towards the counter, letting his bangs fall into his face in a desperate attempt to hide the heat that had risen to his cheeks.

But, if you did notice, you didn’t say anything, instead you examine the cup, just like always. This week, under your name was a circle, a few ‘Fe’s scattered around the perimeter. It appeared to be standing on some stilts, but you could’ve stared at it for hours and still not know what the hell you were looking at. “Kuroo, these are just getting harder, you know?” There’s a small hint of laughter in your words, the playfulness evident in every syllable.

“It’s a ferrous wheel! Get it?” The look on your face was all the answer he needed. No. “Okay, so, Fe is the atomic symbol for iron, right? But, like, why?” Any ounce of embarrassment or awkwardness that had once clouded the barista’s brain had since flown out the window. You had him talking chemistry, the one area in which he was completely comfortable. His thoughts were now so jumbled with the thoughts of atoms that your hypnotizing scent escaped him, even if for only a moment.

You watched him blabber on about science, explaining the joke, taking a million and seven detours to explain something else that was barely related, but you couldn’t just stop him. He looked so excited, hands flying in every direction as he spoke, practically buzzing as he broke down the history of iron and why it was displayed on the table the way it was. The dorky barista who had stolen your heart with science jokes and his lazy smile only stopped talking long enough to make orders as they came in, but he would jump back in immediately the minute he was done. This was always your favorite part about coming here, seeing him get so passionate about this field that he loved so dearly.

“I’ve probably bored you, haven’t I?” He interrupts your thoughts with an awkward laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just took up some of your precious study time, I’m sorry,” Kuroo apologizes.

“No, don’t worry about it. I don’t mind, really.”

“Hey! I could help you, I mean, only if you want, of course. It’s gotten pretty slow, so I’m sure no one would notice if I stepped away for a little while.”

You smile warmly at him and nod. “I’d like that, Kuroo. Thank you.”

It all seemed so innocent. The awkward barista nestled into a booth with his favorite customer as she tried to teach him the correct pronunciations of the words on the page. The orange glow had settled into a much deeper purple as the hours ticked by, quiet laughter being exchanged as the foreign words stumbled clumsily off his tongue. His arm had settled on the back of the booth seat, letting it hang around your shoulders, but at the same time, not overstepping any boundaries. But, the way that your body was slowly inching closer to his led him to believe that most of the lines had been erased. To anyone with an outside view, it was a beautiful image of a newly blossoming romance.

But, Kuroo’s head was fogging at the close proximity. It was one thing when he had a counter separating you from him, but now, with your head leaning on his shoulder and his arm that had just naturally sank down to rest against your form, it was hard to shake. You smelled so good. Your body absolutely dripped that delectable scent that made his skin prickle. Every time that you entered the shop, he could feel his fangs trying to push through, trying to just get some sort of taste of your blood. With that counter between the two of you, it was easy for him to shake the desire, but now? Your neck was so exposed. It would be so easy. He found himself absently tracing patterns up your shoulder towards your collarbone, fingers seeking out that soft spot that would feel so nice to simply sink his fangs into.

“I should probably be getting home.”

His eyes snapped away from the soft curve of your neck to look at the time on your phone. It was nearly nine, nearly time for him to close. Kuroo let out a small sigh, pulling his arm away. “You know, it’s really not smart for you to walk home by yourself at this hour,” he says, sliding out of his seat.

You just shrugged, putting your books back into your bag. “I’ll be okay.”

“If you want, I could walk you home. I just have to do some cleaning, but it shouldn’t take too long.”

“I’d like that, Kuroo. Thank you.” There’s a smile behind your words as you sit back in your seat.

It should’ve been as sweet and simple as that. But, you weren’t living in a fanfiction, were you? Everything would have been too easy and too beautiful if this was just your typical coffee shop love story. You should’ve gathered that something wasn’t quite right about the situation from his shift in demeanor. That lazy smile that always seemed to be evident on his features melted away, settling into a thoughtful expression. He wasn’t talking as much, preferring to simply hum and nod in agreement with what you were saying. If he was forced to talk? Well, his answers were short, nothing like the extensive rambling that you had become used to from the barista.

It’s not like he wanted to be passive with you, it’s just that the soft poking on the inside of his lip told him that he better keep his mouth shut. Kuroo was usually so good about keeping his fangs hidden, but for some reason, you ruined his resolve and before the two of you even left the shop, those two sharp teeth had emerged and he just couldn’t seem to will them away. Especially when you were holding onto his hand, pushing your body up against his side. You were so tantalizingly close and so naive to what dangers this situation really held.

It wasn’t safe for young ladies to walk home by themselves at this hour, but it wasn’t exactly safe for them to be escorted by one of his kind either. God, to drain you right then and there- The thought of your mouth falling open in the mixture of shock and discomfort, hands pawing defenselessly at his chest as that sweet red liquid dripped from your neck, the mental image of you being so vulnerable had his amber eyes shifting a few shades darker.

You were still smiling, so caught up in whatever you were telling him that you didn’t even notice how heavy the mood had become. You were so caught up in this little fantasy that everything was perfectly normal and that you were just getting to spend a little extra quality time with the man that had caught your eye all those months ago. But, he couldn’t help himself, really. This wasn’t how he expected his first long evening with you to go, but it had been awhile since he had had anything to fill his stomach and there was just something about the way your blood smelled that made his resolve collapse and his mouth water.

Imagine your surprise when the usually sweet barista pushed your back against a wall, standing over you, eyes glazed over in hunger, hooded by desire. Kuroo’s fingers gripped your chin, tilting it so that your eyes would meet his. And he smiled.

Except it wasn’t that cool grin that made him seem so laid-back, this one had an air of menace to it, those white fangs catching the rays of the moonlight. The little squeak that had left you as your back had hit that hard surface only made a low chuckle rise in his chest.

“What’s the problem, kitten?” The pet name dripped teasingly from his tongue, the tone only making you sink further into yourself, but his breath fanned so nicely over your skin, that part of you didn’t even care that he was potentially going to kill you. He tilted your head to the side, exposing your neck to him. The sharp points of his fangs graced teasingly over the skin as if trying to decide the best place to finally make their mark. “I bet you never thought that I could be dangerous. You were always so sweet and innocent, never once thinking that I should be the one that you needed to be afraid of.”

There’s a soft whimper and a shake in your bottom lip. Kuroo can feel your slight shake and it almost makes him pull away from you, apologizing for saying such things, but this- this was an opportunity that he couldn’t just pass up. After this night, there would be no guarantees that you would come to see him again and then he would never have the opportunity to just get that little taste that he so desperately craved. But, even so, the grip on your chin softened and the malice in his smile seemed to disappear.

“If you’re going to kill me, please- please just do it already,” you whimper, the tremble in your voice echoing through his ears as you closed your eyes tightly.

That was all it took for him to fully pull away from you, that fear that had crept up within you brought him back to his senses. The ominous creature that had loomed over you only moments before, fangs threatening to pierce your skin, had been replaced by the boy from the coffee shop who got overly excited about chemistry and talked feverishly with his hands. He could feel his fangs shrinking away and Kuroo leaned away from you, sadness being the only emotion on his features.

This wasn’t what he wanted. He never wanted to scare you, to make you shake beneath his touch, but that’s exactly what he had done. To be frank, he hated it. He hated that after months of getting to know you and building a meaningful friendship with you, he let it all waste away as he was driven by an urge of hunger. Kuroo hadn’t offered to walk you home just so he could get a little late night snack. He had genuinely been concerned for your safety and yet, here he was, being more of a danger to you than anyone else.

His mouth stuttered absently for anything that could be an explanation or even an apology, but there was nothing. But when your eyes opened cautiously, surprised that you were still alive, Kuroo could see the soft glisten of tears on your cheeks. Someone could’ve hit him over the head with a brick and it still wouldn’t have hurt anywhere near as much as the knowledge that those tears had fallen because of him, because he had made you fear for your life and for your well-being.

So, when you flung yourself into his chest, clutching at the fabric of his t-shirt, letting your quiet sniffles dampen the material? Kuroo was shocked to say the least, but nonetheless, he wrapped his arms tenderly around your form, mumbling soft words of remorse against your scalp, planting sweet kisses on your temple.

“Please,” you whisper, your words getting caught in your throat in a choked sob. You tighten your grip, pulling him closer to you as if you were trying to completely disappear from the world. “I don’t care what you are, just please- please don't do that to me again, Kuroo. I like you a lot, but I-” You looked up at him, fresh tears shimmering down your cheeks. “But, you scared me and I-”

He shushed you, petting your hair softly before running his thumb over your face, ridding your skin of any remaining tears. “I know, and I’m sorry, Y/N. I guess I just like you too much to pose any real danger to you, huh?”

#i am absolutely not sorry about the title #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #kuroo #tetsurou #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo x reader #vampire au #but also??#coffee shop au #x reader #imagines #dorky rooster boy could never scare you ;-;

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