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animebaby00 · 4 years ago

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I Don't Deserve It: Chapter 3 (FINAL)

When Shoto gets a nasty stomach bug, Izuku stops at nothing to take care of him.

But Shoto can't help but wonder why ?

(Link to Chapter 1): ⬇️

(Link to Chapter 2): ⬇️

The few times Shoto had forgotten to brush his teeth before bed had left him with an absolutely disgusting taste in his mouth the next morning.

However, that taste was NOTHING in comparison to the absolutely sickening, bitter, revolting, acidic flavor that coated his tongue once he woke up.

He pursed his lips sourly, positive that even the flavor of actual vomit coming up wasn't as bad as this. It was almost at the point of making him feel nauseous all over again, but with nothing in his stomach, it was just a mild queasiness.

He harshly blinked his eyes, taking note of the yellowish gleam in the room. It still must have been day time,but later afternoon due to the position of the shadows casted along the wall.

How long had he been asleep?

He sat up slightly, decently warm due to the blankets covering his form, but he wasn't overly hot, nor suffering from chills. He actually felt...better. Well, better than this morning at least.

But he still ached to rid his mouth of the bitter after tastes from earlier.

Shoto heaved himself up more, relieved that his body didn't act against him like it did several times before, and he was actually able to sit up without much protest. However, right when he did, the click of a door sounded in his ear and he caught sight of Midoriya reentering his room, a large, brown tray balanced on his arm.

This whole entire situation was turning into one of deja vu.

Midoriya made it about halfway into his room before he noticed Shoto's wakened presence, his eyes immediately perking up with a gleam of happiness once he did.

"Ah, Todoroki. You're awake." He said, a soft smile gracing his lips.

Shoto nodded, "Y-yeah." He looked back at the curtained window, " How uh...how long was I out?"

"About 4 hours. I was going to wake you up when I came back in here but I guess I won't need to," sock covered feet padded over to the bed and he leaned down to set the tray on the bed's edge, keeping his gaze upward as he did so, "How are you feeling ?"

Shoto's eyes widened a bit.

Such a simple question to answer, but to him, it felt highly difficult.

He knew it was just a simple inquiry about his wellbeing...but it was rare that he had ever been asked "how he was feeling".

He could say that he felt 100% better, say that he could leave Midoriya be and apologize for the unnecessary trouble. However, as proven from earlier, Midoriya was highly analytical (about the most odd things he may add) so he knew that if he tried to lie, the boy would no doubt be able to deduct it. It wasn't a complete lie though. He did feel better but-

"Not...too bad" he answered, noticing that even his voice sounded better, and he was deeply relieved by that "Not as bad as before."

Midoriya grinned "I'm happy to hear that !"

Shoto was a bit puzzled by the boy's eagerness, but that feeling completely diminished once he noticed Midoriya moving closer to him. His hand was slowly raising up, and in no time, it found a place against the skin of his forehead.

He froze in his place

"Well, you definitely look better." Midoriya concluded, "And your fever came down. I think you just caught that 24 hour stomach bug that's been going around."

Shoto blinked, "Stomach bug ?"

The freckled boy nodded, "Mmhm. I guess we've been so busy with our hero work and school that we didn't really notice it. But it doesn't last long." He pulled his hand away, "You should feel better by tomorrow, but make sure you take it easy."

Shoto watched as Midoriya reached over to grab a water bottle from the tray at the end of the bed, "Here, you should probably drink something after getting so sick. Don't need you getting dehydrated, but make sure you drink it slow. Are you still feeling nauseous at all ? Or dizzy? I brought some medicine if you are."

Shoto put a hand to his stomach, feeling slightly uneasy in answering.

He stayed silent, and a frown immediately crossed over onto Midoriya's face.

"Todoroki ? Are you okay ?" He asked frantically, tossing the water bottle to the side,"Are you feeling sick again ? Do you need the-"

"Why are you doing this?"

The question seemed to linger in the air. It was quiet for several seconds as Midoriya's face fell completely blank.

He slowly sat back down.

"What do you mean?"

Shoto looked down at his lap, "You know," he mumbled, gesturing to himself, the bed, and the tray at his feet, "All of this. Bringing me to your room, cleaning up the mess I made,the cold rag, bringing me water and medicine…"

"Helping me." He thought, but didn't say. Damn it, he really was pathetic. Just picturing what his father would say to him right now sent a flood of pitiful thoughts through his brain.

He was no better than a starving mutt scrapping up food from a trash can outside of a restaurant. A rotting, shriveled up tree in the cold depths of winter.

A piece of work. A nuisance. A waste of time.

A pathetic excuse of a human being, let alone a hero.

"Well that's obvious," Midoriya's chipper voice sounded, no ounce of remorse in sight, "Because you're my friend."

Shoto inwardly grimaced.

Friend.

The oh so Midoriya-like response that he knew deep down was coming.

But even so…it just wasn't right.

He slowly shook his head, fingers rising up to rub at his sore temples "God I can't believe this…"

"Huh?"

A sigh left his lips and he directed his bi-colored gaze to rest on Midoriya's deep, confused, green irises, his next words heavy on his tongue.

"I'm...I'm sorry Midoriya."

The freckled boy blinked, eyebrows furrowing at his sick friend, noticing how his presence seemed to suddenly freeze over them in a bitter chill.

What?

"Sorry?" he asked, his tone light and wavering in disbelief "Why are you sorry?"

Shoto pressed his lips into a thin line, his head tilting downwards, bangs covering his eyes. Slowly, he turned his head to the side, seemingly in an attempt to avoid Midoriya's perplexed stare…and the topic of explanation.

He looked so...dismal. Or maybe, upset? Disappointed? Honestly, Midoriya wasn't sure.

He actually wasn't sure about a lot of things in concern of Shoto today.

Everyone gets sick. That's inevitable. But Shoto seemed so completely and utterly...bludgeoned by it, that it had made Midoriya very concerned.

Shoto had to have not felt 100% that morning, considering how badly he had thrown up. He had hidden it well even though Midoriya could have sworn that his complexion did look a little green. But then, things continued to take their turns.

He hadn't mentioned feeling sick at all during their time in the bathroom, kept brushing off that he was fine. He had tried to avoid Midoriya's help and care, tried getting up and leaving when he very well wasn't capable of doing so.

And now, here he was, looking down at the bed, fiddling with his fingers like some child who had just stolen some cookies out of a cookie jar, apologizing for something that no other person ever would.

But why?

Why did he seem so regretful, so beaten down, so depressed?

Midoriya began to gain a bit of realization

He had seen that face before, at least ones similar to it. At their battle during the sports festival, in the hospital after beating Stain, those tiny increments he would encounter his father or talk about his mother.

Others wouldn't be able to see it, but Midoriya could. That look…

...was a look of guilt.

It was then that he understood. Maybe not Shoto's exact position, as no one could possibly understand what he'd been through completely. Midoriya knew he probably never would, but he was going to try his hardest to make Shoto understand HIS position, even if it was just a little.

"Hey, Todoroki." He tried, scooting closer to the male's side whilst looking down at the bed as well, , "You know...I actually used to not like asking for help either."

Midoriya ghosted his gaze upward for just a moment , and caught a twinge of movement from Shoto out of the corner of his eye. At least he got a reaction and confirmation that he was listening.

He picked at the blanket below him with his fingers, "I'm sure you already know this," he said softly, "But it was pretty much just me and my mom growing up. With my dad not in the picture, she was the one who always took care of me. She worked quite a few jobs a week at cafes and stores to keep up with expenses while also looking out for my well being at the same time. "

The soft smile on his lips faded some as he continued.

"I would usually stay at Kacchan's house after school when she couldn't pick me up, sometimes I would even spend the night or fall asleep on the sofa because she would get back so late. And when that wasn't an option, I would go to the office and do homework until she was able to come get me, but I never truly realized just how hard she pushed herself until I got older."

Izuku stood up and walked over his dresser, hand reaching out to pick up a framed photo of him and his mother, finger smoothing over the glassened face.

"She always had weekends off with me which made me happy. We would watch movies, play hero, go to All Might's autograph signings, and we'd always have so much fun...but I would begin to notice how she would doze off halfway through a movie, how sometimes she wouldn't lift me up as high, or how sometimes she would walk slower than normal. I never noticed...how tired she was. How worn out working so many different shifts made her, and on top of it she had to take care of me. It made me feel...guilty."

He set the photo down and turned back around, now finding Shoto's bi-colored gaze completely on him, focused and set, like he was mentally relating to what Midoriya was saying.

"Once middle school started, I decided to try doing more things for myself. Cooking, cleaning, shopping, doing my homework by myself, and other things. At first, it was easy, but then I found my time was slipping away because of my studies and my hero research. Sometimes I would go a day without eating, other times I wouldn't have time to study for a test and my scores weren't the best. I had to keep reminding myself that sometimes my mom had it way worse than me, and so I kept doing what I was doing. But I always found it strange how she would ask me if I was okay or if I needed help when she was the one working 3 jobs while also taking care of a kid."

Shoto parted his lips to speak, his inquisitive words just barely above a whisper.

"W-what did you do?"

Midoriya sighed before his lips curled up into a sympathetic, knowing smile "Denied it. Told her I was fine and that nothing was wrong."

Shoto looked down at the bed, "Oh…"

"But of course, schemes, whether good or bad, have to come to an end somehow. And that happened to me in one of the worst ways possible."

"How?"

Midoriya chuckled sheepishly,"I brought home my first test...with an F."

Now that was something. Midoriya had the 5th highest grade level in their class so he was no doubt a good student. To say Shoto was shocked was an understatement.

"Naturally, this caught my Mom's attention, and soon as I got home she set me down to talk. I knew then and there that I had to tell her what was going on and that I would only make it worse if I tried to hide anything so I told her everything from start to finish. I told her I felt bad for her and that I always worried that she was working too hard. I explained absolutely everything, but in the end, instead of her being mad, she did something that I'd always remember for the rest of my life. She took my hand and said 'Izuku, I want you to understand that no matter what, you can always come to me if you need something. No matter how tired I am, no matter what time it is, I'll always be here. It's my job to look after you. We can't do everything by ourselves, we can't be who we want to be without others. Help is a life necessity and everyone needs it sooner or later, even if they don't think they need it or deserve it. Asking for it and accepting it isn't a weakness…'"

Midoriya trailed off for a moment to walk back over to his bed to sit, and gently placed a hand over Shoto's folded ones, tone warm and reassuring.

"In fact...it's one of the greatest strengths a person can have.'"

Something clicked then. Midoriya's words...he wasn't sure why but they ignited something. A feeling that he couldn't pinpoint.

It took so much in the past for him to be convinced that help or assistance was a sign of weakness. All of the stern lectures, orders and put downs that he could be better. The never ending struggles that he conquered by himself and only by himself because that's what he was taught to do.

It was all changed by a simple story from a person he hadn't even known for a year.

"And you know," Midoriya added, "If a hero is sick, then they can't perform at their best for other people, so the best thing for you, whether you like it or not, is rest."

"Yeah." he sighed, "Your right. I...can actually see that now. I guess my old ways got to me. I'm just not used to this," he shifted in place, "I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to apologize for," Midoriya said with a smile, "I'm your friend. I'm happy to help."

He grabbed the water bottle for the second time, "Here, I imagine the taste you have in your mouth right now isn't too pleasant."

Shoto breathed a light chuckle and put the rim of the bottle up to his lips, "You have no idea." He took a few sips, relishing in how nice the coolness of the water felt in his parched mouth and dry throat.

"I've been sick plenty of times before so I have an idea. Now," Midoriya stood, "Do you maybe want to try eating something? Some crackers or some toast maybe ? You should probably try and keep your strength up."

"Yeah...crackers are okay. I'm not as nauseous as I was earlier so I think I can stomach it."

"Great ! I'll be right back then. Call if you need anything else, okay?"

"...Sure."

Midoriya turned to head out of the bedroom, hand reaching out to grab the handle of the door.

"Midoriya ?"

He paused his movements and turned his head.

"Yes, Todoroki?"

And then he saw it. That oh so, rare, genuine little smile that seemed to brighten up the whole room.

"Thank you."

Two simple words, but to Midoriya, they meant a million.

#mha #my hero academia #shoto torodoki #izuku midoriya #sick shoto todoroki #caring izuku midoriya #talking #support #friendship #understanding

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il-papa-patata · 4 years ago

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Not So Scary Mary

You wake up from a nightmare in Mary’s apartment. He’s unexpectedly helpful as you try to fall back asleep.

Mary Goore/gender neutral reader, nightmares, Freshly Washed Mary

T for language

You bolt awake.

The dream tumbles after you, the heat of it dissipating but lingering in the clamminess of your skin, the way your heart pounds. You search for anything – details about the dream, anything to grasp onto, to laugh at – you always laugh at your nightmares after they happen, or at least try to – but this one just lingers, vibrant red and sicking to your skin like sand in all the wrong places.

It's not your bed, and not your apartment, so when you spring awake, you can't reach to the same places you do normally, can't reach beside your bed for the old dog plush you got for your sixth birthday, with its flopsy ears worn down over the years and the nose almost gone. You can't take one of the old-man hard candies from your nightstand and suck it against your teeth until you feel its warm flavor all the way down your throat, some sort of normalcy in the face of terror.

You can, in this place, reach for Mary Goore.

Who is already awake.

He's already half-up, blearily wiping his eyes with the heel of his hand. You feel bad – the man barely sleeps as it is, and yet here you are waking him up with something like this-

You forget how pretty he is with all the makeup wiped off.

He looks up at you, hazel eyes almost silver in the darkness, face thin and sharp, lips full and parted. Despite your rude awakening, his expression's clear, face neutral and maybe even a little concerned.

“S-sorry,” you stutter, the heat of the dream clinging to you like spiderwebs, “Just a nightmare-”

“Hey,” he says, resting his long hand on your shoulder, “S'okay. You want some water?”

“Y-yeah.”

He dips over to his side of the bed and hands you a still mostly-full water bottle, crinkled along its edges. He pulls his knees up as you drink, resting his head on one, just watching you drink down some of the cool water. The night's chilled it a bit, and it eases some of the nightmare heat inside you.

You cap it again when you feel you've had enough and try to hand it back, but he just shakes his head, holding up a hand. You put it back on your side.

“You wanna talk about it?” he offers, reaching out and smoothing a hand over your lower back.

You do.

You do- but...

But what would there be to say? You can't even remember the dream – you could talk about how you sometimes just have these nightmares but it strikes you that Mary might think you're being a little bitch about it-

On the other hand, Mary is surprisingly good about this kind of thing. He always has been.

“I just... have nightmares. Sometimes.”

“Yeah?” he murmurs, still stroking your lower back, “Anything about?”

“N...no. I don't think so, anyway. It's just... red when I wake up.”

“Red?”

“The color of your eyelids when it's sunny out.”

“Hm,” he hums, reaching his arm around your waist and leaning his head against you. His hair is clean – you washed it yourself – and it's fluffy where it brushes against you, all soft and wiry. “S' a tough one. Are you scared after 'em?”

You swallow.

You don't want to tell him that his mattress is the only thing that feels safe right now, that you had shivered putting down the water bottle, like it was a raft in a great tumultuous sea, as though his hastily thrown-on sheets were going to keep you safe. That even the moonlight outside twists into something horrid, the lamp you've tripped on six hundred times, the display from the old cassette-clock he convinces you still works becoming something else entirely. You don't want to tell him how long it takes you to feel normal back home, how his apartment – no matter how familiar by daylight – is scaring you.

He doesn't say anything when you fall silent. Instead, he just wraps his arms around you and pulls you back down into the sheets, guiding your head down against his chest, your nose against his ribs and your browbone against his collarbone.

“Shh,” he hushes, so softly, “It's okay.”

“Mare-”

“Shh. I've got you. It's okay. Nothing's gonna get you while I'm here.”

...Oh.

How long have you been wanting to hear that?

To not only be soothed but protected. You don't doubt for a second if anything actually tried to hurt you that Mary would launch at it, ready to fight it off or even kill it.

You sag into his hold, worming your arms around his slim waist, pressing your face more fully into his chest. He's warm, and unexpectedly soft despite how bony he is, and he hushes you quietly, stroking your nape slowly.

“You're...” you mumble, “Surprisingly good at this.”

“Eh, yknow.”

“No, really- you're... good at calming people down. And- you're nice.”

Mary laughs. “Well, my reputation gets outta hand sometimes. People don't believe I can be this feral and nasty and still be nice.”

You try to look up at him, face clean, hair fluffy. You knew he was sweet – you wouldn't be dating him or cuddled into his chest in his apartment if you thought otherwise, but-

No. You see it, here in the dark. The warmth of Mary. The little patient smile.

“You like being nice?”

Mary purses his lips, looking up at the window. “Well, who doesn't?”

“A lot of people think you don't.”

“Do you think that?” he asks, burying his fingers in your hair.

“No,” you say, “You love being nice. But-”

“But...”

“...oh. No, I get it now. The feralness is the niceness. It's-”

The desire to protect, to include, to be warm and to laugh – the violence and the trashiness and all that was that. A reflection, a complement to the kindness and the warmth and his barking laughter.

Mary smiles. His eyes glimmer slightly.

“Hmm,” he hums.

You tuck your head into his chest again, suddenly way too shy at that warm expression. It was usually a smile he smiled at you when he thought you weren't looking, but you'd never caught the full brunt of it, not from two inches away, and not with his arms around you and his legs tangled with yours.

“But yeah, I think you'll be okay.” He murmurs. “I had a lot of nightmares at one point too.”

He pulls you a bit closer, cocooning you against him. “Yeah?”

“Mmhm. Got out of a shitty life, but all of it chased me. Drank a lot to try and keep all of it away but it didn't really work. Anything I didn't deal with during the day, I dealt with at night.”

You breathe for a moment. You never know whether to ask more or not, when he talks about times before anyone here knew him, before he popped into the city covered in blood and screaming.

You choose to say nothing this time. If he tells you, he'll tell you.

“They'll fade. I make a mean cup of chamomile, though, if you can't get back to sleep.”

“Chamomile? You?”

“Yeh.”

He doesn't elaborate further, although you want to press it a bit.

But you figure you're wired as it is, and the proof's in the... tea, so you nod.

He helps you up, slowly – reaches over the side of his bed for a discarded hoodie which he drapes around your shoulders. It sits a little weird there, but it's comfortable, a nice protection against the chill of the night.

The two of you move into the kitchen, past his second-ish-hand couch. He has a stool obviously pilfered from some bar against his counter, and he perches you there as he goes puttering about.

You breathe deeply.

His house- well, his apartment- smells like him. Something old, something like dark hair warmed by the sun, the smell of smoke, this faint peppery thing. You never thought you'd get used to it – at its worst it's boldly organic, almost gross – but like this, settling around you and into your clothing and skin, it's pleasant.

Mary sets the kettle going – you didn't expect him to have one, and it's tiny, but it's enough for two cups of tea. He pulls down two mugs – one that looks like it's real china, a delicate porcelain thing, and the other a sturdy, obviously corporate mug for a bank.

You aren't sure which confuses you more.

“You worked in a bank?”

“Mhm,” he hums, spooning a bit of honey into it, “Kept the building running.”

“Don't you have an arrest record?”

“Didn't then. Helped pay for my first move.”

“Huh.”

He takes down a canister – it's beautiful, covered in intricate, sparkling cloth, a little thing. He pulls off the lid, and a second lid, and smells the contents. “Still fresh.”

He puts the leaves into two small steepers – both shaped like flowers – and covers them over with the freshly boiled water.

He leans back against the counter, humming quietly. You can't pick out the tune, but it's something kind of familiar. Most people knew his growl, but he had a perfectly nice voice when he sang.

He comes over to you, taking your hands in his and swaying your hands back and forth, humming softly. It's kind of weird – like he's playing with a puppet or trying to get you to dance – but you laugh anyway, bouncing your hands along with whatever he's singing, placid-faced and jaunty in his little galley kitchen.

“You're cute,” you tell him, and he sticks out his chin, frowning deeply while still playing with your hands.

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Yuh-huh.”

“Imma kick your ass.”

“Try me,” you grin up at him, “You're the one singing love songs and dancing with me in your kitchen.”

He flushes, pouting slightly. “Whatever. Can't even hold my sweetheart's hands without someone accusing me of being cute?”

“You really calling me your sweetheart and trying to convince me you're not cute?”

“Shush.”

“Really though,” you say when he lets your hands go, settling your feet up on one of the bars on the stool, “You're such a contradiction sometimes.”

“Con-tro-dik-tee-on? Whazzat?”

“Don't play dumb,” you smirk, “You aren't stupid no matter how much you pretend. You read those academic texts like they're gonna disappear every time your friends bring them over.”

He purses his lips. “Hey, I'm a high-school dropout, you can't be mean to me.”

“What was the title of the last one? A Critique of Foucauldian Governmentality?”

“I'm frankly surprised you remembered that, but yes, and it was a very good article I will have you know.”

“You seemed super into it.”

“I am a slut for Foucault, so.”

You giggle.

He hands you the bank mug, scooping out the steeper with his fingers. He takes up the fine porcelain cup, and even though it's a bit of a contrast – its delicate, blush-pink glaze and gilt handle matching the still-slight flush on his cheeks and the warmth of his eyes in the quiet light of the kitchen – it's not a mismatch. Mary was like that, you think, just a collection of things that didn't seem to go together but felt natural when they were united.

You bump your ankle against his knee, and he shuffles over to you, standing in between your knees. You sip the tea as he does, commenting, “But I like it.”

“Like what?”

“That you're contradictory. Sweet and violent. Depraved but also-” you reach up with your free hand to stroke his jaw, chuckling when he sags into the touch like an eager street cat, “Surprisingly innocent.”

“You want me to show you that depravity?” he growls, grinning and fixing you with a stare that turns your guts to mush.

“Another time, maybe.”

The stare breaks and his expression melts into a little smile. “Aw, okay.”

“I mean, not that I don't want to fuck in your kitchen at 2:54am, and I don't think you're working tomorrow, but...” You shift, sipping more of the tea, “Still feeling kind of fragile.”

“S'okay, you don't gotta qualify why you're not up for it. All I need's the 'no'.”

He dips his head and rests his forehead against yours, closing his eyes and continuing to hum, the pretty, petal-like cup held close in his hands. You think you might want to lean up, to kiss his plush lips, but you don't. It's too late, and the chamomile is working, and your shoulders are slumping. You'd probably fall asleep kissing him.

Maybe another time for that, though. That sounds really nice.

He notices. Of course he does. And without complaint, he sets your cups on the counter and picks you up, cradling you against his shoulder. You feel like a kid again, passed out in the car, the same comfort of being brought inside and tucked in.

He sets you down again on the mattress, huffing a breath when he loses his grip on you. He gently pries the covers out from under you, settling them over your shoulders, batting away your hands when you try to help.

He climbs under the covers too, tugging his pillow closer and shimmying up alongside you, tucking his ankle against yours. You're drifting now, the chamomile and the quiet of his apartment and that familiar scent of him all lulling you back to sleep, but you still feel it when he gently kisses your forehead, smooths his fingers along your scalp, and murmurs, “No more bad dreams, now.”

#mary goore #repugnant #patata fic #not so scary mary C:

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horrible-on-main · 5 years ago

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The psyker is on the floor, twitching. She can tell he’s the psyker they’re looking for, because his skin is still visibly sparking off into the air. “Jan, cover me,” Ariadne instructs grimly, approaching. “Everyone else, forward. Time’s a-wasting.”

This bit is like shoving her hands into a wild animal’s cage, but there’s no time to lose. Pity she doesn’t have 068 and his soul-sight to hand to tell her if the guy’s freaking possessed or not. A more highly strung team might just shoot the psyker and call it better safe than sorry... but Evelyn would have her head for wasting Imperial resources like that. She’s here to either return this guy to his posting or claim him as an Inquisitorial asset. Hopefully he doesn’t need putting down. She nudges the prone man with a boot - just barely at first, then more sharply. The second one gets a bit of a whimper. “Anyone alive in there?”

She gets no answer, but she also doesn’t get her face torn off. So she kneels down and flips the psyker onto his back. She’s glad of the mesh gloves that protect her from the residual sparks. He makes a choked keening sound at the movement, then falls quiet again. His hands are cuffed in front of him. His eyes are wide and unseeing. There’s blood on his face around the nose and mouth, and plenty of bruising. The poor thing looks terrified. “Hey.” She claps her hands above his face. “Can you hear me?” The response is incoherent, but it is a response, and it sounds a lot like an attempt at pleading. His eyes move, not quite focusing.

“Hush,” she tells him firmly. “You’re in safe hands. Keep your mind closed and don’t manifest, and we’re all good.” As she talks, she grabs the closest arm and runs her hands down it carefully, feeling the bones through the flesh. “I’m just going to check you for injuries.” And mutations. She doesn’t want him dying on her, but more importantly she doesn’t want him turning into a horrible monster. “I’m not trying to hurt you. Calm now, I’m going to get you out of here soon. Hush, hush.”

The hands she can check visually. The long bones she checks by touch, arms then legs, then the neck, the ribcage, the gut. No time to pull off shoes and check his feet - anything minor enough to leave the shoes intact she doesn’t really care about anyway. He whimpers and moans under her touch, and every time she finds a broken bone there are louder objections and more sobbed half-words. Some of it sounds like pleading, some of it like demands. She ignores it either way, keeping up the steady litany of firm reassurance. “You’re safe, don’t panic. I’m just checking your injuries. I’ll be done soon, then I’ll take my hands off you. Hush now, quiet down. You’re in safe hands.”

There’s a gunshot from up ahead - las from the sound - and raised voices. She can pick out her squad’s voices and those opposing, but she can’t make out any words. She doesn��t need to to hear the anger and tension. She itches to be there, but the psyker is higher priority and it’s not like she’s dilly-dallying here. And the troopers don’t need her.

The psyker whimpers a lot when she checks his skull and face, eyes tracking her hands fearfully - or trying to, at least. It’s more fear than pain, and she idly wonders what’s been done to him that he’s so worried about having his head touched. There’s a nasty bump on the left side, which might go a way towards explaining the incoherence. The eyes are a little bloodshot, but the colour looks natural and there’s nothing weird behind the pupils that she can see. His mouth is dry and bloodied - a couple of teeth broken, a couple more recently missing... The tongue looks swollen, which is a little odd, but nothing to be deeply concerned about. He seems clean, if hurt. Again, she wishes she had Tacitus to hand. But she won’t miss him if it comes to shooting, panicky liability that he is.

“I’m going to turn you onto your side now. It’s going to hurt but you’ll breathe a little easier, so don’t fight me. That’s right.” She rolls him onto the side where she could feel the ribs move under her hands. He’s still compliant, if a little noisy. “Hush, hush. Good psyker, nearly done.” She hikes his shirt up curiously before running her hands down his back. As she suspected, there are bruises layered over bruises. His file didn’t suggest any tendency to non-compliance. Her frown deepens.

“That’s it,” she tells him, “All done. I’m going to leave you with this storm trooper now, and I’ll come back for you shortly. Then we’ll get you to a medic for those breaks. You’re going to stay right where you are. Don’t move. Don’t try anything. Absolutely don’t manifest. There’s a gun pointed at you. Stay still and wait. Do you understand me?” The noise he makes in response isn’t really coherent enough to trust. “I can’t hear you. Do you understand?” A more firmly affirmative noise, and he nods his head a little. “Good. Keep still, and no one’s going to hurt you.”

She nods to Jan as she stands up, and the woman steps a little bit closer to train her rifle on the prone man. Better safe than sorry. Ariadne wishes she could take better precautions, but this will have to do for now.

By the time she reaches the kerfuffle, it’s all sorted. There’s a half-armoured thug out on the floor, and another two sullenly on their knees with their hands behind their heads. A couple of soldiers have just finished patting them down for concealed weapons. Ariadne recognises one as Resiah, and smiles grimly. “Decker, cover Jan for me.” She nods back that way. Decker nods and jumps to it. Two watchers are a little safer than one, at least.

The prisoners’ hands are promptly cuffed behind their backs, and they are shoved to the floor. Ariadne lets it happen before stalking over and ordering “Get her back up on her knees.” The criminal woman doesn’t look happy to be hauled back up. Especially with a hand on the back of her flak jacket keeping her restrained. “Resiah.” Ariadne smiles. “Has your latest acquisition been giving you trouble?”

The woman turns her head sideways and spits on the floor. “Filthy lil witch dun wanna perform.” “Really,” she drawls. “Well, you fixed that problem. I think the whole block saw the results you got.” “Lil fucker brought ya right to us, huh?” “Mm. I suppose that’s why you kicked the shit out of him, hm?” “Kicked im? I damn near shot im. Tha’s whatcha do wit janky witches, right?” “So why didn’t you?” “Well e was already on the floor an din’t seem to be glowin or frothin or nothin. Woulda, if e’d moved or tried enthin.” “Mmhm.”

There’s a lot of breaks and sprains for a single beating. And the fresh reddening marks she saw were overlaid on blue-and-purple bruising, and those in turn over fading green-and-yellow. “You’ve been kicking him a lot.” “Yeah, an?” “He was refusing to use his powers for you?” “Oh, yeah, whiny lil fucker...” Her tone is too casual. As if the refusal was a secondary reason. “Allays whingin too-much, or wrong-time, like e ain’t jus a thing to be used. Dirty witch.” Suspicions solidify into cold anger. But Ariadne keeps her tone light, pseudo-friendly. “So you’re telling me he did manifest for you, but he kept trying to stop?” “Yeah, s’about right, why?”

Instead of answering, Ariadne kicks Resiah in the teeth. She reels, blinking in shock. “You feckless, water-brained idiot,” Ariadne hisses. “You’re damn lucky you aren’t inside-out right now!” “Ow, wha??” Ariadne meets the eyes of the guy holding the back of the woman’s collar and nods downwards. She’s promptly thrown to the floor, and Ariadne puts a boot on the side of her face to make sure she doesn’t think about trying to get back up. “Do you have any freaking clue how dangerous that creature is?” “Ow, ey, yeah I--” “And you thought it was a good idea to push him past his limits when he was telling you he’d done too much?” “Ey! We was careful!” “Oh? Do share.” “We ad guns on im the ole time, kicked im erry time e did enthin funny, din’t stop til e stopped--” “And you beat him when he was too tardy about it too, hm?” “Well, yeah--” Ariadne cuts her off with another kick. She’s not sure if she breaks the idiot’s nose, but it certainly starts streaming blood. “You think people work better when you kick the hell out of them, do you?” She punctuates her words with more kicks, delivered now to the ribs. “Like this, huh?”

She lets up when the prisoner stops trying to talk and starts just plain howling. The storm trooper puts a boot on her back to keep her from moving as Ariadne crouches down beside her face. She’s panting, face bloodied, eyes wide. “You think you get someone’s best when they’re out of their mind with fear, huh? You think you can fix panic and exhaustion by applying more pain? Well. I have some questions for you, Resiah. And I’m going to teach you a thing or two about motivation while we’re at it.”

#drabble #ariadne #ariadne drabble #ariadne present #ariadne present drabble #ariadne has opinions on proper use of assets #violence #beating #abuse of power #cut for length #i swear i'll get to my rps at some point i've been stressed xD

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aurora-the-kunoichi · 6 years ago

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Chance Meeting

Chapter Eleven

Reader and the Turtles

The ambulance ride was way too long, the officer that had made his way into the vehicle was rattling off questions making your head spin. The sting of antiseptic made you hiss in pain when it touched the nasty slash on your cheek. You were ready for all of this to be over with.

“I don’t think it will need stitches, a few butterfly bandages should be sufficient. The others are superficial and don’t need anything to heal besides keeping them clean.” The EMT smiled as she finished cleaning your open wound.

You clutch the blanket they had given you to cover your tattered clothes tighter around you and nod. You were so over this day and wanted to go home and take a long hot shower. As the ambulance rolled into the hospital and stopped before the emergency entrance the door was swung open. Four nurses crawled in and ushered you to lie back and pulled your gurney from the vehicle.

After two hours of intense interrogation and medical care you and Luca were released. Rebecca Vincent herself showed up to give you a ride home. Opening the passenger door she helped you inside and got into the driver’s seat pulling away from the hospital.

After a few uncomfortable moments you broke the silence. “How is Luca?”

“She’s fine; she woke up in the ambulance. You were the one we were worried about; you took most of the abuse. She had a few scrapes, that’s all.”

Pulling a chunk of dried blood from your hair you turned in your seat to face the Chief of police better, “Did she um…. say anything��”

“About the turtles?” she cut you off knowing what you were going to ask. “No she was surprisingly mum on the subject to the EMT’s. When she woke up she requested my presence and I had a small discussion with her. She’s comfortable with the idea of four large turtles protecting the city and is very thankful to you and the four of them. She knows if it wasn’t for you she wouldn’t be here today so she’s hoping when you feel better you’d like to meet up for dinner. I told her I’d pass the message along.” At the last part of the massage the Chief let out a small chuckle.

Following her lead, you laughed absentmindedly touching the fresh bandage on your throbbing cheek. “Yeah I think that can be arranged.”

Rebecca cleared her throat adjusting in her seat uncomfortably, “Look I’m so sorry we weren’t able to get to you sooner when they broke out. I was s….”

It was your turn to cut her off, your hand came to her shoulder and squeezed urging her to stop, “There was nothing you could have done, they would have gotten me eventually. Just please stop them escaping next time. I don’t think I’ll be as lucky if they catch me again.” The thought made your blood chill.

��They won’t, I promise. They are going straight to a max prison upstate until their trial.”

“Good.”

Rebecca dropped you off at your apartment and watched as you slipped inside the secure entrance to safety. It took you a few seconds of shaky hands and fumbling keys to get inside the comfort of your apartment. After setting the locks and chain on your door you kicked off your shoes and set your purse that had somehow managed to be found by one of the police officers on the scene on the counter.

Resting your dirty hands on your kitchen counter you lowered your head staring at the veins running through the marble slab. Soon small droplets collided with the white surface and you realized tears had begun to fall from your tired eyes. You had been so out of it you didn’t even know they had let loose.

Flashes of the day’s events bombarded you suddenly taking the breath from your lungs. You couldn’t keep the onslaught of emotions bubbling up from within making you weak in the knees. Soon after, short heavy sobs racked your frame taking the remaining strength from your body.

Your knees gave out and you slipped to the floor bunching your knees up to your chest. There was no controlling it now as you sat in your kitchen expelling all the stress of your trauma unfolding in your head. You could have been raped today and killed along with Luca right beside you, witnessing the atrocity of that horrid gang. Somehow you had managed to hold on, managed to defend you both until they came. Those beautiful mutants you had been so happy to meet, that had given you the tools to stay alive.

Your blurry eye sight traveled over your battered and bruised body taking in the large amount of cuts. Those were going to sting in the shower. The tattered pants you had worn for the day were gone replaced by a pair of grey scrubs from the hospital. You were glad to be rid of them, you never wanted to see those pants again.

The dark smudges of grime and dirt coated your skin and dried blood caked small sections of your hair. You needed a long hot shower, preferably a temp that matched a raging volcano. Your hands reached for you cupboard handles to bare your weight, but your strength was gone and were unable to lift yourself up.

“Figures.” You cried to yourself in frustration, guess you needed to crawl to the bathroom now. God you wished someone was here to help you. You actually wanted one specific person to be here to help you. The pleasant vision of Leonardo flooded your mind, his gorgeous blue piercing eyes taking the very breath from your body. His strong arms around you, keeping your from breaking down. Why couldn’t he be here right now? “Leo.” You whispered under your breath wishing him to your apartment.

“Yes?” the deep familiar voice filled your ears.

Startled from the unexpected sound you sucked in a sharp intake of breath, great now you were hallucinating.Closing your eyes, you took a few deep breaths, this isn’t what you needed right now. He was back with his brothers at the lair.

When you opened your eyes you nearly jumped out of your skin. Without making a sound he was standing beside you his tall green muscled body hovering just above yours. He was here, Leo was here. You blinked up at him and fell apart yet again, hot tears streaming down your reddened cheeks. Leo was here standing a few inches from you.

You could see the concern in his face seeing you so broken, unable to get up from the floor exhausted to no end. With no words spoken he bent down scooping you up into his arms. Feeling the warmth from his body you curled up into him your hand hooking around his wide neck for comfort. Leo took you from your kitchen to the bathroom setting you down gently making your bare feet connect with the cold floor. Wavering on your feet you placed your palms on his plastron for support.

Keeping eye contact, he began to strip you of your clothes, peeling each lair carefully from your sore body. You could see the calm in his demeanor as he removed your bra placing a sweet kiss on your lips. Taking to one knee Leo pulled your pants and underwear down in one motion and you stepped from them never taking your eyes from his deep pools of serenity that were his eyes.

You were now completely laid bare before the mutant turtle trembling under his gaze. As if in slow motion Leo started to remove his clothes until he was just as naked and vulnerable as you were. Taking in a quick breath Leo took you back up into his arms bridal style. Pulling your shower door open Leo stepped inside closing it right behind you both.

Thankfully when you were looking for apartments in the big city you were adamant on a large shower stall so his massive shelled body and yours fit just fine within it’s confines. Soon the bathroom filled with steam when he found the right temperature before stepping into the hot stream of water with you still in his arms. There you sat letting the water pour over your naked bodies, the dirt from the canning factory slipping down the drain.

You could feel him move and your legs swung down connecting with the wet shower floor. Reaching behind you Leo grabbed your shampoo coiling out a small dollop into the palm of his green hand. Working the substance into a light lather he guided his three fingered hands through the long tresses of your hair working his fingertips into your scalp. Just the simple touch of his skilled fingers made you sway on your feet humming in satisfaction. Your hands gripped his green forearms swaying with his movements. The hard muscles flexed under his green skin as his fingers worked diligently into your scalp.

“Are you ok?” he rumbled softly into your ear working the suds down to the tip of your hair.

“Mmhm.” Was all you could manage through the relaxing massage.

Gently moving you back under the hot steady stream Leo rinsed the shampoo from your hair. When he was satisfied all the suds were rinsed free his hands cupped your face pulling you to him. Before pressing his lips to yours his mouth parted, “You are so brave.” He whispered as he pressed his warm lips to yours taking a quick heated kiss.

Pulling the loofa from the hanger on the shower wall he poured a coil of body wash onto it. Distributing the substance around Leo created a good lather and started with your neck washing away the grim and dirt. Gingerly the loofa moved south over your shoulders and out to your biceps. His large green hand took your wrists and lifted each arm to wash around your appendages and pressed tenderly into your armpits. The sensation of the turtle washing one of your most ticklish parts of your body made you giggle lightly but didn’t pull away from his care.

Leo finished with your arms and did his best to not to stare at your breasts while he swirled the soapy material around them. He wasn’t here for sex; he was here to take care of you, to ease the anxiety from the trauma that you had to endure today. He watched you close your eyes lost in the sensation of his touch humming softly in appreciation. Again he leaned forward taking another kiss this time sliding his tongue over your bottom lip.

“You are amazing.” Leo hummed against your lips. It took all his control to keep his quickly rising libido at bay. That was the last thing he wanted from you today. Quelling the thoughts quickly he continued to wash you moving south yet again. Over your stomach and around the back to your ass he took great care before kneeling down giving the same attention to your legs and feet.

Leo allowed you to wash between your legs, touching down there would have most definitely lead to something more. He blushed hearing you laugh at his chaste decision to leave your core alone.

Again reaching up to the shower head he pulled down the conditioner and lathered your hair in the white cream, leaving it sit for a few moments to do its work. Looking down at you he felt his heat swell, eyes closed leaning up against him a small warm smile on your lips. Parting his Leo slanted his mouth once more over yours taking a deep passionate kiss tasting your sweet flavor.

“I’m so proud of you.” Leaning you both back again into the spray, he rinsed the conditioner from you and turned to the water off, leaving you both incased in the warm steam of the shower. Not wanting to lose the heat from the shower Leo guided you from the shower; he pulled a towel off the rack and wrapped your body in the large fluffy fabric before taking one for himself.

Leo leaned down and took you back into his arms bridal style and strode into your bedroom and pulled the covers back setting you down. With all the worry drained from you by Leo’s tender care you looked up at him with heavy eyes. You didn’t want him to leave so you scooted over in the bed and beckoned him down to you. His brilliant smile warmed your soul when he took his towel off and crawled in next to you covering you both up with the blankets.

You immediately snuggled up to his plastron pressing warm we wet kisses into the hollow of his throat tangling your legs in his long muscled ones. “Thank you.” You whispered against his green pebbled skin. Closing your eyes it didn’t take long for sleep to take you and soon your steady rhythmic breathing let the leader in blue know you were sound asleep.

Leo pulled your closer to his chest trying to get as much of you pressed against his body as possible. He couldn’t get enough of you and wanted nothing more than to protect you for the rest of your lives. He would kill Hun or any of those Purple Dragons before they came anywhere near you again, and he knew his brothers felt the same way.

Being this close to you made him ache for more, to never let you go. The feeling was unfamiliar but he knew what it meant. It was funny for knowing you for such a small amount of time he knew without a doubt he was in love with you, unequivocally and most assuredly in love.

Chapter Ten

@blossom-skies

#TMNT #tmnt donatello #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt raphael #tmnt leonardo #tmnt fanfiction #TMNT TMNT fanfiction #tmnt fandom #tmnt fic #oneshot

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lolalexturnerlol · 7 years ago

Text

Neighbours know my name part 2 (Negan x reader)

I’m back back back back back again. Look at me getting my shit together for once

Summary: after sleeping together for six months, Negan wants to try something new.

Warnings: cursing, dirty talk fingering (of the front and back door variety), anal sex, rough sex, brief double penetration, daddy kink bc apparently I can’t stay away from it, unsafe sex (wrap it before you tap it), bodily fluids, it’s nasty af and there is absolutely no plot to be seen.��

Since summer began, it's been like a game between the two of you. Or really, it's been your game - he's just been playing along.

You'd trow on your skimpiest bikini, lather yourself up in coconut oil, and fold a towel out on your front yard. Negan has taken up fixing his car for hours, rolling it out of the garage and into the driveway, giving you the opportunity to tease him all you like. And boy, do you like.

Today's number is a little yellow thing - something you know Negan likes a little more than the others. Last time you wore it, he'd fucked you extra good. You slop on your coconut oil - "it helps me tan" is what you'd told Negan - and grab your towel, making your way out the front.

He's already there, in his driveway bent over the car in low-slung jeans and a dirty grey t-shirt. He hasn't shaved for at least a weak, giving him the beginnings of that salt and pepper beard of his. God you love it when he doesn't shave.

"Hi, Negan!" You wave happily, shit eating grin on your face as you make your way over.

He glances up, oil smeared across his cheek, and his reaction is exactly what you wanted. His eyes widen slightly, jaw clenching. "Y/n. Sun-baking again?" He asks, eyes slowly trailing your body in a way that makes your thighs press together. He notices this, eyes flicking up to your face, letting you know he definitely caught that.

"Mmhm." You nod, as innocently as you can manage, especially knowing the thoughts going through his head. Not to mention the thoughts going through yours. "Doing much tonight?"

He chuckles, voice real low, hand coming up to scratch at his beard. "I'll tell you what I'm doing tonight, baby. I'm going to fuck your ass tonight." His voice drops, dangerously low, maddeningly gravelly and sexy. "You been fucking around with me all month, 'probly thinkin' I wouldn't do anything about it. You thought wrong baby. Nine o'clock."

Your breathe catches in your throat, hitching your chest you'd talked about anal before - you're totally up for it. But you didn't expect this. Negan's eyes flick down to your breasts for a second, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. "Wear that pink lace set I got you."

You nod. "Yes, daddy."

You head over to Negans at ten past nine.

He opens the door after you knock, in the same jeans he was wearing today - minus the shirt. It makes your mouth water.

"Got you a bottle of bourbon."

"You tryna butter me up, sweetheart?" He grins, stepping aside.

You shrug your shoulders, walking past him in the doorway and through to the kitchen. "I thought we were past that." As you place the bottle of bourbon down on the counter his arms grasp your hips, turning you around.

"You're late, you know." Negan says, head buried in your neck as he gives your pulse point soft kisses, pressing his hard body up against yours.

"I'm not late." You pout. "You're early."

He laughs, nose trailing up your throat until your looking at each other in the eye. "I'll let it slip this time." His hand trails down, grabbing a handful of you ass. "But next time there's gonna be some real fuckin' trouble." The hand lifts up - and comes down swiftly, giving your ass a sharp smack that makes you squeak. "Now, if you're good for the rest of the night, I'll go easy on you," his hand slips down in between your thighs, brushing your pussy ever so lightly, "but if not, I'm gonna lay down the fucking law and I don't think you'll like that. So what's it gonna be?"

Your breath hitches, and you can feel your underwear becoming drenched. "I'll be good." You whine out. "Promise."

He grins. "Get on your knees, baby girl." You do as your told, wanting - no, needing so desperately to please him. You watch with rapt attention and baited breath as he unbuckles his belt, slowly unzips his fly, and pulls his cock out.

The first couple of times you'd slept with Negan, you genuinely thought that you wouldn't be able to take all of him. It's not the length - although that is impressive - it's the girth that concerned you. He's thick - so thick that at the base, you're hand doesn't wrap the whole way around. You'd stumbled through it the first time you'd sucked him off.

But like the saying goes - practise makes perfect.

He's already hard as you wrap your hand around his base, suckling the tip into your mouth. Slipping your hand down his base, you suck his cock in as much as you can, hollowing your cheeks out and looking up. He's staring down at you, a light snarl on his face, breath heavy. "That's a good girl." he purrs down at you. "Take daddy's cock." He thrusts his hips slightly, forcing his cock further down your throat. You gag, but you hold him there, knowing how much he loves it when you deep throat him.

You move your head up and down, flicking your tongue around and trying to keep your throat open. You still gag, and soon you start to feel spit and pre-cum dripping down your chin.

You take his balls in your mouth, sucking lightly as you move your hand along his shaft, wrist twisting and soft wet noises filling the room. You take a deep breath, moving your mouth away followed by a trail of spit. You look up at Negan fleetingly, catching his eye. The wrecked look of his face and his heavy breathing give you a burst of confidence, so you lean forward slowly, taking his cock into your mouth. His hand wraps tighter in your hair though, pulling you away.

"Are you going to let me fuck you, baby? Are you going to take it like a good girl?" He asks, fisted hand twisting up and down his cock.

Your scalp stings and tears obscure your vision. You can feel saliva and pre-cum dribbling down your chin, dripping onto your tits. But you nod, saying "yes daddy, I'll be good."

"Yeah, my good fucking slut." Negan growls, leaning down. He kisses you sloppily on the lips, gripping you under the armpits and hoisting you up, then chucking you belly down on the kitchen counter. He looks down at you, utterly wrecked already and he hasn't even been inside you.

"Look at all this ass, baby." He growls, grasping handfuls of your ass. He gives your left cheek a harsh smack, making you squeal. "Can't wait to fuck it."

All you can do is moan wantonly, squirming as he pushes two fingers into your pussy with no warning. He fucks them into you slowly, thumb playing with your asshole. "You okay with this?"

You now he’s not asking about right now. He's asking about what you now he wants to do with you. To you. And you're more than ok with it. "Yes, Negan. It's ok. It's good."

He growls above you, and you can hear him spitting. You feel his cool saliva running down your crack, dribbling into your pussy and ass as he fingers you. He rubs a finger into your asshole, pushing it in so slowly, making your stomach lurch. He fucks his fingers into languidly, stopping occasionally to spread your pussy juices up to your asshole. There's a slight sting that doesn't bother you at all and it's going away with every passing second, replaced with spine-tingling pleasure.

Finally, he slips another finger into your asshole, accompanying the other two in your pussy. The sting is there again but god damn do you like it. You're stunned for a second, eyes rolling back and hand grasping at the marble counter. And then you come to, a keening whine leaving your lips. "Negan, fuck."

He thrusts all his fingers into you at a bruising pace, not waiting for you to adjust, and you feel weirdly full and it's so good. You cry out an moan, body twitching and back arching.

Suddenly he pulls his fingers out, but before you can even process the empty feeling, he flips you over roughly, your back slapping onto the marble as he hoists your legs up over his broad shoulders.

"You ready for it baby?"

You know you're arching your back, grinding back against him, begging him to touch you, to fuck you. But you feel like you can't control your actions. "Yes, yes Negan please."

You watch through hooded eyes as he reaches down, grasping at his angry, veiny cock and swiping it through your sensitive lips, up and down. And then he goes lower, and your brain fuzzes in anticipation and lust, feeling him about to breach somewhere no ones ever been. He looks up, staring you straight in the eyes. And then he pushes in.

Your legs jerk, and you moan out as he fills you up, slowly stretching you out. You let out a high pitched, keening cry, fingers grasping at Negans shoulders so hard your knuckles turn white. Negan leans over you, breath heavy on your collarbones as he groans.

"Tight little asshole." He growls, tugging hard at your hair, making your neck snap back. "Ever had anyone in here baby?"

You manage to shake your head jerkily, your hips trying to spasm away from him. "No, no one." you gasp.

He pulls out of you, agonisingly slow, until just the head is sheathed in your asshole. You whimper, loving the stretching drag as he slides back into you, to the hilt again. He repeats this, slow and gentle, and it makes you whine. "Daddy, fuck me already."

"Don't wanna fuckin' hurt you, doll." He growls, fingers gripping harshly at your thighs.

"You won't." You pant, feeling almost delirious with the need to feel him, completely. To feel him fucking you, good and hard like he always does.

"You better be sure you're ready, sweetheart."

"Please, Negan, daddy please. Want you to fuck my asshole hard." You know you sound pathetic, drooling on the counter like a dog, but right now you couldn't care any less. "Fuck me like you hate me."

You're shaking and quivering and trying to get away because it's just too much, but he holds you in place, one hand gripping at your ass and the other fisted hard in your hair, holding you in place. And then he snaps his hips into you, filling you to the brim in one quick movement. He grunts, teeth clenched as he fucks you, one of his hands coming up to paw at your breast as he pounds into your asshole.

You're beyond overwhelmed. You've never had anyone fuck your asshole before. Like you'd said, Negan is your first. And the thing is - you're very nearly shocked at how good it feel, how much you fucking like it. How much you lie feeling the drag, and the sting, and the thrill of knowing he's somewhere he probably shouldn't be, of doing something you probably shouldn't be doing.

His hand slips down, splaying over your lower belly, his thumb finding your clit. He rubs at the tight nub in quick, close circles, fucking you hard and holding you in place so you can't get away. And you can feel it coming, that thing in the bottom pits of your stomach, heating your whole body up and making you jerk and fidget away. "Daddy, I'm gonna fucking come, I can't-"

"Take it baby." Negan snarls, a feral look coming over his face as he picks up his pace, playing with your clit quick.

And then you're coming all over him, so fucking hard, and there's a ringing in your ears and you can't stop moving, wriggling away and clutching him closer. You're screaming, tears in your eyes,

"Fucking fuck." His movements are erratic and sloppy now, frantic as he reaches his peak. "Gonna come in your pretty little asshole sweetheart." He pushes into the hilt, moaning loudly as he comes inside you. You feel his legs shaking slightly against yours, his hands gripping at you so hard you know there'll be bruises; evidence of how hard he fucked you.

He’s stopped now, moaning as he unloads into you. The warm, fuzzy, blissful feeling that always comes after Negan has fucked you has overcome your body and you find yourself moaning in pure satisfaction. You’re floating off in your own little world, completely and utterly blissed out, when you hear him chuckling.

You lazily lift your head, cracking open an eyelid to eye him off. “What?”

"Jesus christ." He's breathless, but there's a smile on his face as he shakes his head down at you. "You are something else, girl."

You both stay there for a while, catching your breath. Finally negan speaks.

"You feelin' alright, sweetheart?" Negan asks, combing the sweaty hair from your face.

"Fine." You breathe out, head still spinning and chest still heaving.

"Good, because I am not nearly done with you.

Your chuckle is breathless. "I haven't got anywhere to be tonight."

tag list:

@ask-kakashihatake

@dlb1999

#daddy!negan smut #negan smut #twd smut #negan fanfiction #negan x reader #negan reader insert #negan daddy kink #part two #my fics

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fancybois · 7 years ago

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Tagged by @bergarass thank you Nina!! <3

rules: answer these 85 statements about yourself, then tag 20 people.

last

1. drink - coffee?? yikes i should drink some water

2. phone call - my mom

3. text message - one i sent: “the rat laugh haha”

4. song you listened to - Your Guardian Angel by Red Jumpsuit Apparatus

5. time you cried - look i cry all the time, i think the last time i cried with tears streaming down my face i was thinking about steven idk

ever

6. dated someone twice? - nope

7. kissed someone and regretted it - no

8. been cheated on - i dont think so!

9. lost someone special - heh yeah :/

10. been depressed - buddy,, my dude, fuckin yes

11. gotten drunk and thrown up - YES,, its nasty

fave colours

12. maroon

13. teal

14. heather grey

in the last year have you…

15. made new friends - yeah! im lookin @ u worth it pals!

16. fallen out of love - every so slowly, yes

17. laughed until you cried - i dont think so

18. found out someone was talking about you - no not that i recall

19. met someone who changed you - not in 2018 no

20. found out who your friends are - yeah, its a nice change tbh

21. kissed someone on your facebook friends list - nah

general

22. how many of your facebook friends do you know irl - most of them ive met at least once since i only friend people i know

23. do you have any pets - :( no

24. do you want to change your name - nah man i love my name

25. what did you do for your last birthday - it was honestly the best birthday and this years wont top it sadly;; I went with my then girlfriend on a walking tour in the morning and then we got lunch and then later on i went to dinner with some other close friends!

26. what time did you wake up today - 8:30 am

27. what were you doing at midnight last night - drinking with some new friends!

28. what is something you can’t wait for - NEXT WEEKS WORTH IT

30. what are you listening to right now - the fan in my computer whirring

31. have you ever talked to a person named tom - yeah, my cousin and my uncle!

32. something that’s getting on your nerves - PEOPLE NOT USING THEIR BLINKERS TO TURN

33. most visited website - tumblr absolutely

34. hair colour - brown

35. long or short hair - on me? longer

36. do you have a crush on someone - Probs Steven tbh

37. what do you like about yourself - tbh how much of a contradiction i can be, i even hate it sometimes, catch me with the consistency

38. want any piercings? - ive always wanted an eyebrow peicing

39. blood type - fuck idk

40. nicknames - Joy is my nickname actually

41. relationship status - single

42. zodiac - aries

43. pronouns - she/her

44. fave tv shows - b99, steven universe, sense8; those are my top 3

45. tattoos - i love them but i get tired of things easily so its a bad idea, but maybe one day

46. right or left handed - lefty

47. ever had surgery - ye, tonsils

48. piercings - ears

49. sport - uh, archery, i enjoyed that when i did it in undergrad

50. vacation - i wanna go EVERYWHERE, but i think the next one will be chicago

51. trainers - the shoes? i have them?

more general

52. eating - i had some scrambled eggs for dinner

53. drinking - nothing

54. i’m about to watch - the back of my eyelids as i go to sleep

55. waiting for - Worth it next week, did i stutter?

56. want - to be happy, healthy, a stable job and a dog

57. get married - we’ll see

58. career - currently interning in public affairs

which is better

59. hugs or kisses - hugs, yeah that mmm

60. lips or eyes - eyes

61. shorter or taller - medium

62. older or younger - have we been talking about attraction to? uh? it doesn’t matter to me.

63. nice arms or stomach - nice thighs bih

64. hookup or relationship - relationship

65. troublemaker or hesitant - im good with both tbh

have you ever

66. kissed a stranger - no

67. drank hard liquor - OH yeah

68. lost glasses - thank god no

69. turned someone down - yeep

70. sex on first date - nope

71. broken someones heart - yeahhh :/

72. had your heart broken - ABSOLUTELY

73. been arrested - nope

74. cried when someone died - not irl

75. fallen for a friend - mmhm

do you believe in

76. yourself - *pained face* SOMETIMES

77. miracles - ... actually a little

78. love at first sight - maybe love at first chat... yeah

79. santa claus - no

80. kiss on a first date - if i click with them yeah

81. angels - id like to believe it

other

82. best friend’s name - i have a few! but my oldest friend is Katt

83. eye colour - dark brown

84. fave movie - Pacific Rim and Scott Pilgrim are the first two that come to mind

85. fave actor - Will Smith honestly ill watch anything he’s in and he’s a great dude. I cant think of any actresses off the top of my head im so sorry

I’m tagging!: @poiregourmande, @brunchcrush, @brunchfact, @transilnyckyj, @worthitbfs, @worthitboys, @lavab0y, @leiasreys, @buzzfeedworthit, @muhdej, @halfwheeze, @jeppys, @undreamedconstellations

#friends #tagged #me #long post

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enigmasalad · 7 years ago

Text

Us Water Benders Stick Together

(So this is in response to a post I made a few hours ago about if I should post a one shot of virgil’s back story or not. Overall the people said yes so...heres Us Water Benders Stick Together.)

Virgil sighed sadly as he looked at his small glass of water. It had been a year since his father sold him off to the mean Ringmaster. He only gave the poor boy a glass of water, a pinch of bread and sometimes a thin slice of meat for meals, on days the man felt like it though. The man told him that Virgil had to “prove himself” if he was going to be fed. Luckily today the Ringmaster gave him his pinch of bread and a cup of water. Virgil ate his bread and now was staring at his water. He absent mindlessly raised his hand slowly and the water rose out of the cup. Now he was going in clockwise motions, the water doing the same. It was actually calming until he heard someone behind him. The water fell back into the cup as he spun around with fear in his gut.

“Oh! You've mastered the basics of water bending quite early!”

It was a woman. Her skin was tanned and eyes were a warm chestnut brown. Her hair was obviously dyed white. It was in a tall pony tail which the bottom part had brown bands around certain sections. It made the ponytail look like it was turning into puff balls. She was in traditional water tribe clothing and there was a water bender necklace strung around her neck. Her smile was gentle but it did little to calm Virgil.

“Don't make me do the scary bending please! I'll be a good boy I promise!” Virgil suddenly begged and tears welled up.

That made her smile fall and she looked concerned.

“Scary bending?”

“It makes me control people and rats. Daddy made me learn it. It hurt a lot.” Virgil explained.

Virgil was shaking now. He backed away a bit in fear. However the woman came closer to him. He closed his eyes and braced himself to be punched, slapped, kicked, anything. However what he felt was two gentle hands on his tiny shoulders.

“Why are you here honey? Is your Daddy here? Your Mommy?” the woman said. Her face was gentle but it held some seriousness to it.

“No. Daddy sold me to Ringmaster. Daddy owed Ringmaster and his friends money so he sold me. Now Ringmaster says I'm gonna be part of the circus or he'll make me use the scary bending. As for my Mommy..Daddy said when I was born I stole her soul. He doesn't like me.”

The woman was silent for a bit before cupping the poor child's face in her hands. She looked at him with up most gentleness and care.

“My name is Wyma. I make the costumes and I'm a healer too. My husband is named Bai. He's the strong man. What's your name honey?”

“V-Virgil.” Virgil responded.

She smiled and stood up. She then took off her necklace and put it around the boy's neck. It was a little big but she was pleased.

“Eh you'll grow into it. Lets be friends Virgil. After all us water benders have to stick together! Of course you can be friends with the other benders too! I'm sure you'd like to have a friend who's like you though right?”

She held her hand out gently. Virgil smiled for the first time in what was probably his life and took her hand.

“Yeah!”

Years later Virgil was sitting on Wyma's desk. They had just gotten done with another lesson of the proper way to do makeup. Virgil's eyes were surrounded by black. It reminded him of the eye sockets of a skull so it was cool. Virgil in return did Wyma's makeup. She had eye shadow that was mostly a lighter blue but it got darker near the crease. He also managed to choose a good shade of lipstick for her this time. Now he was helping her sew up torn costumes and clothes that the circus used.

“I swear I was going to punch him. I should have.” Wyma said, ranting about her brother.

“Oh no. Your misery and hate will kill us all.” Virgil said with sarcasm.

Wyma laughed and ruffled his already messy hair.

“You're ten and already a master at sarcasm. I have taught you well.” she said.

“No one will surpass the spice queen.” Virgil responded, obviously referring to Wyma.

“Good. You know your place boy.”

They both shared a giggle together as the thread closed the tears and holes. However it stopped when Wyma gave a slight yelp. She looked at her finger and sighed.

“Can I heal it this time?” Virgil asked.

“Knock yourself out honey.”

Virgil held her index finger with one hand and put his hand over a nearby cup of water. Neither of them had been drinking it so it was perfect to heal with. A small bit came up and he held it over Wyma's finger. It absorbed into the wound and the cut was healed. Wyma was beaming with pride.

“You did it! I'm so proud of you Virgil honey!” she said while hugging the boy.

“W-Whatever mom.” Virgil responded while rolling his eyes and a blush painted his pale cheeks.

Virgil realized what he said and pulled away. He pushed himself to the very back of the table and stared nervously at Wyma.

“You...called me mom?”

“Forget I said it. It don't matter.”

Wyma smiled.

“It's “doesn't”, honey.”

Three years later Virgil spoke his mind about something. He simply said he thought that since he was the villain of the story his costume shouldn't have glitter on it. When he realized what he had done it was to late. The Ringmaster forcefully grabbed his wrists and dragged the boy to his personal trailer. The vile man then threw the poor boy in and kicked his stomach hard. When Virgil made a noise of pain Ringmaster pulled Virgil up by his hair and made the boy look at him.

“You don't get any say in things boy. If you were to perform with no skin you better damn perform with your muscles and crap exposed. Got it?”

“Yes sir.”

“You don't eat for a week. You're lucky I'll give you water.”

After that the Ringmaster left Virgil in the practically empty trailer. Virgil heard the click of the lock. He couldn't get out now. He crawled to his pillow and blanket and fell into a sleep filled with nightmares. The next time he saw Wyma was a week later. She watched him eat with a look of deep thought.

“You're going to get out of here soon.”

Virgil whipped his head up in shock.

“What?”

“You're going to get out of here soon. I'll get us out of here. I promise.”

Virgil's chest felt light at the idea. However as soon as it rose it fell just as quickly.

“Don't. The Ringmaster's friends will hunt us down an drag me back. I could get killed! You could get killed!”

“I know. However I have a plan” Wyma responded.

Virgil went quiet and looked at her. Her smile grew big and her eyes had determination burning in them. She was going to get him out even if the odds were against her.

“We've planned this for years Virgil. Ever since I told Bai and my brother Wymo about you we've been planning. Want to hear it?”

Virgil felt himself nod eagerly. To think freedom was in his grasp filled him with an energy he had never known.

“Wymo will be sending a large amount of money, which will come after your fourteenth birthday. So its coming in the spring. We'll pick the lock to your caravan and hide you in Bai's weight bag. You're small enough to fit in there. Don't worry the weights wont be in there.”

Virgil sighed in relief.

“Then we're going to travel to my childhood home. My tribe. Then we'll adopt you and we'll live together.”

Virgil's eyes widened in shock.

“A-Adopt? You'll adopt me?” he asked.

“Mmhm. You know Bai and I can't have kids. Besides we'd like you as a son. You already called me mom after all. You deserve family. Good family.”

Virgil held back his tears as he hugged Wyma. She hugged him closer and laughed.

“Thank you. Thank you. I'll be a good son.” Virgil said while the tears refused to be held back.

“You already have been honey. You've always been a son to me. In a few months it will be time to take you home.”

Wyma would update Virgil on everything. She said they'd buy him whatever he needed or wanted. They'd hire someone to catch him up on his education. Even though he knew how to read, write and do math, he could use some more help. For his “birthday winter” Bai and Wyma gave him a hoodie. They told him that where they were going to live he would practically have to wear three or four layers of clothing. They promised to buy him a dark purple water tribe coat when they got there. So Virgil began wearing the hoodie. He actually loved the feeling of it. It felt like a protective barrier. Then the day before they were supposed to leave Wyma came to him after his aerial silks practice.

“Hey honey.”she said.

“Hey Wyma. What's up?” Virgil asked. He was trying to contain his excitement.

She didn't say a word. She just gently took his hand and lead him to behind the giant circus tent. No one was there so it was the perfect place to talk privately.

“I need to tell you something Virgil. Its...important.” she said. She was smiling but it looked forced.

“You can tell me anything. I promise.” Virgil assured. It was similar to how Wyma told him years ago.

She took a deep breath and sighed.

“I'm..pregnant..Virgil.”

They both were quiet. However Virgil's face lit up and excitement made his belly flop.

“Really? You..you are?”

“Yes. But do you know what that means?”

“Yeah! I-I..I'm going to be a big brother!”

Wyma wasn't smiling anymore. She looked pained as Virgil looked at her stomach. However Virgil was too overjoyed to notice.

“No honey. You're not going to be a big brother.”

Virgil tilted his head in confusion.

“I'm going to be a..big sister? Do I have to dress feminine so we don't get caught? I don't care! I'll..be as good as a sister I can be I promise!”

“N-No. Its neither of that.”

“Then what is it mom?”

The last word made her flinch. She ran a hand down her face and exhaled shakily. However she took Virgil's hands gently and looked at him dead in the eye.

“Virgil..you're..not going to be part of our family. We're n-not going to my home. We can't help you escape.”

The world stopped around Virgil. His smile fell as his hands grew more cold and clammy and a nasty mix of emotions settled in his chest and stomach.

“W-What? Why? You promised!”

“I-I know! But I'm pregnant now. I'm finally having a child. I can't risk that child's safety.”

Virgil tore his hands away and tears fell down his face.

“But you said you wanted me as a son!” he said as he tried to keep his voice from cracking. Wyma was tearing up too.

“I-I know honey bu-”

“Stop calling me that damn name! What was I then? The replacement plan?!” Virgil said while gritting his teeth.

“You were never the replacement Virgil! We really wanted you! We wanted to hold birthdays and let you see festivals and show you what love is! I wanted to watch you grow up and get married.I wanted to see you have a family of your own! I wanted to show you how to make snowballs and food and help you with your anxiety and self-doubt. I wanted to show you what family is! B-But...we have a child now. I can't risk its life. I'm..so sorry.”

Virgil looked at her. The pain of being starved and beaten was nothing compared to this. He'd preferred to be beaten instead of..this. The cold fire of anger clenched his heart and made him bare his teeth in anger like the damned dog Ringmaster always told him he was. Sorrow leaked out of his eyes as the blade of betrayal twisted in his heart.

“So that's it huh? You befriend a scared and abused slave boy and promise him freedom and the knowledge of what love is? You throw down a rope for him to climb and cut it once he's near the top?”

“Vi-”

“I trusted you! I was vulnerable around you. I actually felt safe with you! Now you...do this? I might as well be dead! It would hurt less than this!”

Wyma's eyes widened as she reached for the boy she basically called her son. To hold him as he cried again. However Virgil backed away. With a few deep breaths he glared at her. She shivered at how cold and intense Virgil's eyes were.

“You can never fix Wyma. I don't want to see you ever again. You don't get talk to me. You don't get to touch me You don't get to see me. And I'm never coming to you for help or support ever again.”

“Virgil plea-”

“No! You betrayed someone and fed them empty lies and promises. You expect me to trust you? No way. Find some other water benders to be buddies with. This one wants to live his days alone.”

Virgil left without another word. He ran to his empty prison of a circus trailer and shut the door, instantly locking him in for the day. His hands instantly grasped the necklace that Wyma gave him. He was going to rip it off of his neck and throw it into the walls as much as he wanted. However he couldn't. He couldn't move to rip it off. So he left it alone and cried himself to sleep.

For the next few years Virgil didn't trust anyone. And he avoided seeing the person he once called mom.

taglist:

@lizzysperil @walrus-flail @fanderofsanders @icecoldparadise -> people who have given opinions lately on the fics

#Virgil sanders #anxiety sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfic

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dangan-ronpa-imagines · 8 years ago

Text

Control - Fuyuhiko x Kirakira-Chan! Reader

Hey hey, guess who ((;

And this is unedited, its 11:06 at night and I had to take the second part of my Geometry End of Course Exam at 8 in the morning, so I’m gonna submit a raw copy.

(Follows the song. Non Despair AU, plus dissociative personality disorder)

–

“They send me away to find them a fortune. A chest filled with diamonds and gold.”

Kira smiled as she dropped her metal baseball bat onto the oak dresser, not minding the blood on them.

Kira didn’t get her life. She would wake up randomly to be met with a life that made no sense. The body she lived in was labelled Y/N L/n, making her Kira L/n.

But Kira would find files on her writing desk. They would be of criminals that deserved to die. Rapists, murderers, Yakuza bosses. Kira had tracked down one from the Kuzuryuu Clan tonight, and was drenched in blood.

Kira knew Y/N was the Ultimate Investigator, but what’s the fun in trying to throw someone in jail, a less of a sentence than death.

Kira stripped off the old blue school girl uniform she wore in Middle School and quickly rinsed off the excess blood before slipping into her night cloths, trying not to make too much noise. She was lucky Y/N was living off campus for an assignment.

“The house was awake, the shadows and monsters. The hallways, they echoed and groaned.”

You could call Y/N a one-person hotel room that another person randomly started to live in the hotel room with the other one, running it differently when the other slept, and tried to avoid anyone realizing that there are two people in there.

Did Y/N particularly like her new body buddy? Not really. She was thrilled at first, then realized that it was a serial killer. Then she knew she was royally screwed. How’d she handle the cases?

Kirakira-Chan, also known as Sparkling Justice.

Kira had left Y/N notes about the cases and leads, when she couldn’t track them down, and explained herself. She wanted to bring Justice to the people who deserved it truly. It scared Y/N so bad, she decided to try and stay away from her love interest, Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu. He was a Yakuza. But did Kira know this? No. Did Y/N know that Kira had killed his personal bodyguard, that wasn’t her classmate Peko Pekoyama last night? Also no. She just saw he was tied to the Kuzuryuu Clan and cut everything off with him.

Then came the knock on Y/N’s door.

“I sat alone, in bed till the morning. I’m crying, ‘They’re coming for me’.”

Y/N walked up to the door and looked out her peep hole to see Fuyuhiko standing outside her door, Peko nowhere to be seen, looking distraught and pissed. She guessed from how pissed he looked, it was either from the guy dying or her cutting him off.

"Y/N! Open up or I’ll get Peko to bust in!” Fuyuhiko yelled it and Y/N felt a wave of drowsiness wash over her, like when Kira was coming out. This can’t happen. She’d kill him.

“I-I’M SICK!” Y/N called it out and backed away from the door.

“I wanted to talk to you about someone! He just got murdered and I know you had a murder case on him!” Fuyuhiko yelled back at her.

“A-ah, you mean Fitzgerald? He died?!” Y/N dashed to her room and hid the bloody mask, bat, and clothing quickly.

“And I tried to hold these secrets inside me. My mind’s like a deadly disease.”

“Yeah! Him! He was my personal bodyguard.” Y/N heard her door handle turn. “It’s unlocked?”

“H-hey!” Y/N ran towards the door, her curly h/c bouncing wildly. Y/N was half Spanish and half Japanese. She slammed her body into the door.

Y/N felt another wave come over her and Fuyuhiko pushed past her, making her fall over and him walk in.

“Y/N, are you alright?” Fuyuhiko crouched down next to her.

“Y-you have to go, or she’s gonna kill you.” Y/N pushed him away.

“Y/N?! What the hell-?”

“I’m bigger than my body. I’m colder than this home. I’m meaner than my demons. I’m bigger than these bones.”

Fuyuhiko stopped talking when he realized she passed out.

What had happened?! Was she truly that sick? Was she trying to get him to leave?

Y/N opened her eyes slowly. Fuyuhiko made a quiet gasp as he moved to sit her up. Her bright eyes were watching him.

“You’re Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu…” Y/N mumbled and Fuyuhiko gave her a weird look.

“You scared me, Y/N. You just passed out. I wanted to talk about Fitzgerald. We think we saw the new serial killer.” Fuyuhiko pushed her up into his lap slightly.

“He was rather hard to get away from you, and I still didn’t avoid eyes.” Y/N puffed her cheeks and pouted.

“W-what?”

“I’m not your precious Y/N.” Kira smiled brightly.

“And all the kids cried out, ‘Please stop, you’re scaring me’!”

"W-who? W-what?” Fuyuhiko pushed away and Kira fell back onto her stomach, her knees to the side.

“My name is Kira L/n. Nice to meet you, Mister Yakuza!” Kira held out her hand and pushed herself up with the other elbow, her chin resting on her fist.

“You’re the serial killer?!” Fuyuhiko’s face contorted into one if anger and fear.

“Sparkling Justice in the flesh.” Kira shrugged. “You’re cuter up close. Y/N was smart for keeping you away from us. I truly doubt you’d be one I’d have to kill.”

“How did you turn into this?

"I can’t help this awful energy.”

“Dissociative Personality Disorder.” Kira moved towards Fuyuhiko and put her head on his lap, grinning like a child.

“Are you going to kill me?” Fuyuhiko frowned and flinched away from Kira.

“No. Not yet.” Kira reached up and messed with his tie and watched how he flinched. “God damn right, you should be scared of me.”

“I’m not scared!” Fuyuhiko gritted out.

“Mmhm.” Kira sat up and put her legs around him as she sat on his lap, face close to him.

“What are you doing?” Fuyuhiko frowned, blush growing.

“This.”

She then grabbed his face and kissed him, before falling backwards, limp like a rag doll.

“Who is in control?”

Fuyuhiko sighed as he picked her up and put her back into her bed, hoping she wouldn’t wake up to him so embarrassed.

Fuyuhiko just witnessed the other side of Y/N. The killer side. The one that obviously made her push him away. For her protection.

Fuyuhiko looked around her room to see blood smeared across her dresser. He walked over to rummage around and find the metal baseball bat and mask. The mask was splattered with a dark pinkish red, the bat had a good amount on it. Fuyuhiko held back a gag as he also lifted up a uniform and went to clean them. He had to protect her. But she had killed one of his closest men?

Didn’t matter.

“I paced around for hours on empty, I jumped at the slightest of sounds.”

Y/N was running through a huge mansion. She didn’t know whose mansion it was, but angry men were running after her, yelling at her to stop.

Y/N let out a string of curses in Spanish before she turned a quarter and collided with someone and fell on top of them, her bat rolling away.

Y/N looked at the face from behind the mask to see Peko Pekoyama.

Was this her house? Y/N didn’t know much about her besides she was somehow tied to the Kuzuryuu family.

Y/N pushed up quickly and grabbed her bat, which she not noticed has nasty looking nails sticking out, and bolted down the hallway again. This wasn’t good. Pekoyama could identify her. She could attack Y/N.

“Young Master, the intruder is running in the direction of your quarters. She is armed and is fleeing.” Y/N heard Pekoyama’s voice, most likely speaking into a walkie talkie, as she ran after a quickly moving Y/N. This is when she was happy that Kira’s Ultimate would be the Ultimate Bounty Hunter. Quick and agile, can track, knows directions freely, and can slip in and out of trouble. And her tracking mainly came in hand for her investigations.

“Shit. Alright. I’ll try to intercept.” The voice that ran out on her radio made Y/N falter. It was familiar, but too distorted.

This is why Y/N hates Kira half of the time. If Y/N took control during one of her hunts, she was left to run out and try to avoid people who tried to kill her back. It scared Y/N to not be in a secure place where Kira couldn’t do anything bad.

She turned another corner, then another, and ended up running into a person around her height. But instead of falling, the person yanked her towards them and held her in place.

“Who the fuc-” The male voice started then stopped abruptly. “Y/N? Is that you? Kira?”

Y/N’s eyes widened and she moved the mask slightly. In front of her, holding a tight grip, was in fact Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu.

“What are you doing here? Did Kira…” Fuyuhiko looked around and tugged her into an empty room. That was when Y/N’s eyes watered.

“I woke up and there where men yelling at me and chasing me. I had this bat… I ran into Peko. I was afraid she’d recognize me.” Y/N looked around skittishly. She could hear the thumps of feet. “I can hear them. They’re still coming.”

“Shit.” Fuyuhiko pulled up his Walkie Talkie and pressed the button.

“I found the girl. I’ll deal with her. Don’t worry. Dispatch.” Fuyuhiko lead her over to another door and pushed it open to show, most likely, his bedroom.

“Young Mast-” Peko started over the radio and she got cut off.

“Peko. I got this. I’ve met her before.” Fuyuhiko pushed Y/N into a chair, making is turn a little and he peeked outside his door.

“Alright.”

“And I couldn’t stand the person inside me. I turned all the mirrors around.”

Fuyuhiko sat the walkie talkie down and then untied her mask and sat it down next to her forgotten baseball bat.

“You’re okay. We can get you through this. We can keep you here. Get Kira to understand that killing isn’t good. That these people are good.” Fuyuhiko wiped away her tears and kissed her eye lids.

“She won’t though.” Y/N looked up at him with tear filled eyes. “She has told me before.”

“Did she kill me?” Fuyuhiko whispered.

“She… Didn’t…” Y/N whispered it.

“Then stay with me tonight. I’ll give you other cloths so they don’t see that it was you. I’ll say you came in through the window after I called you over. I’ll bring you your stuff on a different day. Then she can’t kill, right? She cares about you too much.” Fuyuhiko leaned over her to the dresser next to her and pulled out navy blue sweat pants and turned to grab a light gray sweatshirt that sat on his desk. The Hope’s Peak emblem was printed on in black.

“Here, go change in my bathroom. It’s just that door.” Fuyuhiko pointed towards another door that was connected to his large bedroom.

Y/N got up and stumbled to the bathroom and quickly took off the school girl outfit and let her hair down and it fell to crop her face. She sighed and slipped on the sweatpants, that where baggy on her, and the rather big sweatshirt. She carried out her cloths and sat them in the box that Fuyuhiko was placing her mask and bat into.

“We’ll bring it over tomorrow.” Fuyuhiko closed it and grabbed her hand to lead her to the bed.

“You’re gonna sleep next to me?” Y/N let him pull back the sheets for her before crawling into the mass of sheets and pillows. And dang, he had many blankets pillows. Did he ever get lost in them?

“N-not like that! We’re too young!” Fuyuhiko sputtered before collecting his cool. “I’m going to go sort everything out then I’m heading to sleep. Nothing funny!”

Then he huffed and stormed out the door, shutting it quietly and she could hear him running off.

Y/N quickly drifted off to sleep, her cares slipping away.

“I’m bigger than my body. I’m colder than this home. I’m meaner than my demons. I’m bigger than these bones.”

In the morning, Y/N woke up way before Fuyuhiko. She yawned and stretched, her back popping and she looked around lazily. It didn’t click where she was at first, until she felt the things wrapped around her waist move. She looked down to see Fuyuhiko shoving his face into her hip. Cute.

Y/N detached him before switching her sweatshirt out for a thicker Hope’s Peak hoodie and flicked the hood up onto her face, and leaving a small note that she was heading to the kitchen for food. She quickly scurried out of the room and let her senses lead her through the mansion to where she remembered passing a kitchen and stepped inside, pulling the hood down to her face more, trying to block the cold air from her ears.

She rummaged through the kitchen until she gave up and decided to make two Cup O’ Noodles, swaying slightly as she watched the time go down slowly. Like watching paint dry.

“Ah, Young Master. You’re up early.” It was Pekoyama. She heard steps before a hand laid on her shoulder. “Young Master?"

Y/N tensed and froze before her eye sight went fuzzy.

"And all the kids cried out, ‘Please stop, you’re scaring me’. I can’t help this awful energy.”

Kira quickly turned and held up a fork to Pekoyama before Y/N’s vision cleared up and her eyes widened as Pekoyama caught her arm. Pekoyama saw her eyes flash to an unnatural e/c back to her normally bright e/c, one’s she had seen before, and registered it was Y/N quickly.

"O-oh my gosh! I’m sorry! Y-you scared me!” Y/N tried to tug her arm away from Pekoyama. Y/N knew it was a lie. Kira has done this before. Taking over some, just for a second. Like being bipolar. You just switch and switch back.

“L/n, what are you doing here?” Pekoyama frowned.

“Ah, Fuyuhiko said I could come over last night. Someone tried breaking into my house.” Pekoyama raised an eyebrow and Y/N gave her a scared look. “You can ask him yourself! I just woke up before him and wanted to get us food!”

“And you slept in his bed?” Pekoyama narrowed her eyes.

“We didn’t do anything! I just needed to stay somewhere. The girl looked like she was going to kill me!” Y/N made a high-pitched noise when Pekoyama tightened her hold.

“Peko… Let her go.” A tired voice yawned and automatically Pekoyama let go and turned to look at the man who stood in the door. “If Fuyuhiko let her come over, then it’s fine. She isn’t the intruder. Fuyuhiko he chased the girl off.”

Pekoyama seemed to relax slightly, but still eyes up her classmate, who in fact did look rather distressed.

“Ah, I’m Aki Kuzuryuu, the head of the Kuzuryuu Clan. You’re the Ultimate Criminal Investigator, Y/N L/n, correct?” Kuzuryuu held his hand out and Y/N shakily held out her hand and shook his hand.

“Ah… yes. How do you know that?” Y/N’s face held a sceptical look as she registered his looks and then processed that he was responsible for the fight downtown and one civilian got hit in the crossfire, most likely from the other clan, the Akuma Clan. That’s why Kira was here. To kill him.

“I’ve heard Fuyuhiko talk about you before. And I have to know who he associates with, and who has been working major cases in law around here.” Kuzuryuu smiled and pat Y/N’s head. “And can you tell me who was the girl who tried breaking into your apartment?”

“Ah, she was wearing a mask and had a baseball bat. I saw her in my bedroom and automatically ran. She has been named Kirakira-Chan, or Sparkling Justice. We believe she’s like Genocider Syo, a Dissociative Personality Disorder case.” Y/N frowned. “Why?”

“A girl in a mask with a baseball bat broke in last night while you were here. Fuyuhiko must have left you and chased her off when he realized she was close to you. She just of thought you were not there. You must have done something bad.” Kuzuryuu nodded.

“Ah, I do things that some people think are bad. She can group me in many categories.” Y/N nodded.

“You better get those noodle cups upstairs before Natsume comes and gets them.” Kuzuryuu pointed out.

“Ah! Yes sir!” Y/N quickly turned and grabbed another fork and the noodle cups and passed Pekoyama, rushing back up the staircase and into Fuyuhiko’s room. She sighed. That was a close one.

“God damn right, you should be scared of me! Who is in control?"

Fuyuhiko sat next to Y/N as she looked through cases. One case stuck out to her.

"Melia Kuma…” Y/N took a bite of her apple. “I grew up with her… And now she’s dead.”

“She was part of the Akuma Clan. I can see why.” Fuyuhiko shrugged.

“We didn’t do this. I think Pekoyama did it. All of the evidence connects it.” Y/N looked at him to see him stop moving.

“Shit. Kira might go after her.” Fuyuhiko whispered it.

“I don’t think Pekoyama likes me. And I don’t think Kira likes her either. Though she wouldn’t kill her if I truly didn’t want her to.” Y/N rubbed her forehead.

“It took a lot of persuading to let her leave me alone to come here.” Fuyuhiko sighed.

“Fuyuhiko, this is a set up. Melia wouldn’t touch a fly. She may have been the Leader’s daughter, but she basically disowned her parent’s life. Pekoyama wants us to show up…” Y/N placed down her file. “Look.”

Y/N pointed out many different evidence points.

“Came from behind. Barely any struggle, autopsy shows that it happened after she was being attacked. it was quick and easy.” Y/N looked up at Fuyuhiko and frowned. “You have to take her outside tonight. Around the factory district. I’ll make sure Kira knows. You HAVE to stop Kira. She’ll listen to you. She feels like I do. She can’t kill you. Might hit you around though for show or anger.”

“Alright.”

“And… That night. Kira was going to kill your father.”

“I know.”

“I’m well acquainted with villains that live in my head. They beg me to write them so they’ll never die when I’m dead.”

There she was. Pekoyama was standing outside a building, watching something in the distance.

Kira licked her lips and walked out, tsking. This let Pekoyama she was there and she turned to face Kira.

“Peko Pekoyama!” Kira smiled brightly from behind her mask and dragged her bat slightly as she skipped towards her.

“Kirakira-Chan.” Pekoyama lifted up her sword some to threaten Kira.

“Ahw, don’t be like that! Let’s get to know each other first!” Kira tilted her head at Pekoyama.

“What do you want, Kirakira-Chan?” Pekoyama pointed a sword at Kira.

“Ah, I just wanted to know why you killed poor little Melia Akuma. She was rather nice, y'know. A close friend of me and the Investigator.” Kira swung the bat over her shoulder to rest it on it and to stand with her free hand on her hip.

“She was scum. She was an enemy. A danger.” Pekoyama frowned.

“To Fuyuhiko? He could take her on. Hell, our little Investigator could take her on. With a little bit of my help!” Kira giggled. “Oh! Speaking of her, you know I keep a journal for our little Investigator? Who I kill, how, when, where. She mainly needs it so when the performance is over, it can be turned in!”

“Our Investigator? Performance? You make it sound like you and someone else owns her, or at least you associate with her more than I do. And she has something to do with the attack? Is she playing us?!” Pekoyama looked confused.

“Ah, playing you and, what did our Investigator hear you call him? Young Master. Yes! Young Master!” Kira clapped happily.

“What does he have to do with anything?”

“And I’ve grown familiar with villains that live in my head. They beg me to write them so I’ll never die when I’m dead.”

“Ah, he’s not being played. She isn’t being played. They’re part of the orchestra. A two-and-a-half-person orchestra! How does that sound?! That could be our title!” Kira gushed and Pekoyama took a step back.

“Oh, everything that our Investigator knows, he knows. So, he does know that you did in fact kill an innocent. Him and our little Investigator make a good pair!” Kira giggled and took a step towards Pekoyama. “And I know our Investigator very well. More than you or him will ever know."

"That’s how you know who to kill. You get a hold of her files!” Peko’s eyes widened.

“Ah, smart smart, Pekoyama-Sama!” Kira clapped.

“Who are you?” Pekoyama held out her sword, ready to attack.

“I don’t know. Legally, I don’t exist. You can’t track down a ghost, can you?” Kira swung her bat up, ready to attack also.

“It doesn’t matter now. You came into our home and put us in danger. You must go!” Pekoyama moved to strike her, and Kira moved away.

“Tsk, Pekoyama. Don’t hurt someone dear to you by hurting me.” Kria swung her baseball bat, only for it to get deflected by a sword.

“Kira! Back off. You had your fun!” A male voice called out and Kira let out a high-pitched giggle and did a cartwheel away, towards the voice, and stopped, putting her arms out for a hug.

“Kuzuryuu!” Kira gushed and she could see Pekoyama physically get shocked.

“Nice to see you too, Kira. How long has it been? A week?” Fuyuhiko stepped out of the shadows. “Stop playing with her.”

“Ahhhw. No fun.” Kira whined and hugged him, lifting up her mask slightly to kiss his cheek before moving it back in place and turned back to Pekoyama.

“Young Master, what is this?” Pekoyama looked shocked.

“Peko, it’s all fine. Me and Y/N set this up to see if it was true.” Fuyuhiko sighed. “Why did you have to kill the girl?”

“I… Wanted to finally get Kirakira-Chan finished off. She surprised me at the house so I couldn’t get her. Then she got chased off.” Pekoyama looked defeated, but stiff.

“Actually, you didn’t run into me! Quite opposite really!” Kira chirped and clapped her hands.

“Who did I run into at the house, then?” Pekoyama frowned.

“Y/N actually.” Fuyuhiko shrugged.

"How?!” Pekoyama bit off. “Did she really orchestrate this? Is she truly this untrustworthy?!”

“Fuyuhiko, catch!” Kira felt drowsy, and like many times before, Fuyuhiko held his arms out.

“Time to take off the mask.”

Then Kira fell back into Fuyuhiko’s arms, making Peko jut forward in shock.

“I’m bigger than my body. I’m colder than this home. I’m meaner than my demons. I’m bigger than these bones.”

“What happened?” Pekoyama stood three feet away now.

“Let her wake back up. C'mon. The main girl is coming out.” Fuyuhiko shook her slightly, and her eyes fluttered back open.

“Uhhhg, please tell me you didn’t force her to go away because she ended up killing Pekoyama. I swear to god I’m going to be in so much trouble with the Investigative Office again.” Y/N groaned and moved to take off the mask, unaware of what was going on.

“No, actually.” Fuyuhiko took out the clip from her hair and the hair fell around her face as Y/N took off the mask and Peko gasped.

“Oh! Pekoyama!” Y/N gasped. “I... Uhm...”

“It WAS you! You have been playing us?” Peko frowned.

“And all the kids cried out, "Please stop, you’re scaring me.” I can’t help this awful energy. God damn right, you should be scared of me! Who is in control?”

"No. Fuyuhiko knew this whole time.” Y/N smoothed out her dress and frowned at the bat on the ground. “I truly hate this bat. I like Jyushi’s bat. it is lighter."

"Are you two… Dating?” Pekoyama just looked confused at this point.

“yes, we are, Peko.” Fuyuhiko sighed.

“Well, that’s one good thing.”

“And all the kids cried out, "Please stop, you’re scaring me.” I can’t help this awful energy. God damn right, you should be scared of me! Who is in control?”

"Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu, Y/N L/n, will you help with the Izuru Kamukura project? We think that your talents could be use, especially you, Y/N, being both the Ultimate Criminal Investigator and Ultimate Bounty Hunter.”

Y/N and Fuyuhiko smiled at each other and nodded.

“Yes.”

#LIXXEN U SHOULD HAVE BEEN STUDYING #HOW DO YOU WRITE SO LATE?!#submission #Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu x Reader #lixxen

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