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calico-kiwi · 9 months

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The Coffee Trials

Chapter 2: a different brand of strange

Fandom: Maribat (Miraculous Ladybug x DC)

Tags: Tim Drake/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Original Character, fluff & Shenanigans, no plot & no update schedule

Work Summary: Both Tim Drake and Marinette Dupain-Cheng are incredibly successful and busy people. Two people who both view coffee as their lifeblood. When they find themselves needing each other to obtain ultimate coffee rights at their favorite cafe, two total strangers become allies. And friends. And perhaps eventually… something more.

Chapter Summary: Marinette finds that her normal day goes 0 to 100 (more of a 70, really) very fast. She certainly didn’t expect this to be the outcome of visiting her new favorite cafe…

Links: ao3 work, ao3 chapter, First Chapter, Previous Chapter, Next Chapter

Read below the Keep Reading!

Marinette was having the very rare kind of day one would consider “normal”. Or, as normal as a former child soldier/superheroine and the current Guardian of the Chinese zodiac’s Muraculi could have whilst living in the cesspool that is Gotham.

It was simultaneously relaxing and unnerving.

She’d had a tremendously productive day. It started with her actually getting up and out of bed at a respectable time, followed by a virtual meeting with Jagged and Penny to discuss his latest commissions.

For the past several hours she’d been answering emails and sketching some basic concepts to pitch to Jagged. It wasn’t until very late into the evening that she realized she had, one, not eaten yet, and two, not had coffee yet.

In fact if not for Tikki gently reminding her that despite the fever dream that was her life she was still human and needed to eat, she wouldn’t have realized at all.

Blinking at the clock that hung above the desk in her office, she realized it was already past eight at night and frowned. “When-” Marinette started.

The tiny floating red deity just giggled. “You were in your work trance silly,” Tikki said, patting her chosen on the head. “You really should eat something though.”

Marinette stretches in her chair and nods. “Food does sound good,” she mumbles, closing her eyes. “Oh!-” she exclaims, eyes flying open. “Why don’t we go to the cafe?”

Tikki moves so she’s floating in front of her chosen, her big dark blue eyes sparkle as the kwami smiles. “You just want to go because Skye will let you have the reaaalllyy caffeinated drinks now.”

Smiling sheepishly, Marinette replies, “Maybe. But you can’t deny they have a good chicken wrap!”

Tikki simply fondly shakes her head as Marinette gets out of her chair and grabs her phone.

“Tikki, can you let the other kwamis know we’re heading out while I grab my stuff? I think most of them are in the kitchen and living room.”

As Tikki zips across the room and towards the kitchen, Marinette hears the kwami reply, “Sure thing Mari!” before phasing through the wall.

It’s not long before Marinette enters Carrie’s Cafe and Bistro. She was immediately greeted by the smell of coffee and a warm welcome from Skye, who was currently working the register.

“Hey Mari, welcome back! What can I get for ya?” Skye asks, a smile accompanying their cheerful demeanor.

While the friendliness wasn’t out of place for Skye, they had an unusual excitement about them. Something about the way they were smiling was almost ‘Chat Noir right before he starts some shenanigans’ in nature.

Marinette shook off the thought, however. She smiled back at Skye, answering, “I’ll take a chicken wrap, a chocolate chip cookie, and a chocolate eclair, please. And um, the most caffeinated Skye Special you have if you don’t mind.”

Skye’s smile gains a tone of playful malice as they push the card reader closer to Marinette.

“Why of course I wouldn’t mind. I’ll ignore the fact you didn’t say the ™ in Skye Special™, but only cause you’re new to this whole system here,” Skye teases.

As Marinette inserts her card into the card reader and enters her pin, Skye continues.

“Though I’m glad you remembered the whole ‘must order at least one item from the menu’ part of the deal. Can’t just be giving away free coffee, Carrie would kill me. And it’s not like I can charge you for it either, y’know?”

Skye hands Marinette the receipt, and soon the fashion designer once again finds herself thrown into a work frenzy on one of the cafe’s sofas. Something about the place just seemed to calm her down and clear her head.

Or maybe it was the fact she had finally eaten and was sipping a truckload of caffeine. But who’s to say?

Not long into her visit to the cafe, she hears the front door open and Skye greeting a customer. A quick glance away from her sketchbook and laptop reveal a very tired-looking man in his early to mid-twenties.

His hair was black and slightly wavy, and despite the fact he was wearing sweats and a crewneck Marinette could still tell he had an impressive build. Not that she was looking. * ahem *

However, it was only a few moments later that Marinette found herself looking up at the very person she had been staring at just a few moments ago.

He simply stood there, and with how severe his eyebags are (seriously, they’re bad enough to rival her own) Marinette was half convinced he’d fallen asleep standing up with his eyes open.

She simply waited for the stranger to say something since he was the one to walk up to her , but before she could ask if he needed anything, he said, “Um, hey, sorry to disturb you but there’s something I kind of need to talk to you about. Mind if I sit?”

Marinette blinks up at him, and it takes a few seconds for his request to process. She gives a nervous glance towards Skye, who’s still hanging out behind the register, and receives a smile and thumbs up from the barista.

She hesitantly answers, “Uhh, sure,” throwing Skye another sideways glance while the stranger sits down.

“So-“ he begins. “Skye told me you passed The Coffee Trials. Which is great, congrats! But um, not sure if you’re aware of this, Skye only serves one Skye Special™ per shift. And-“

The stranger pauses again to stare down at Marinette’s drink, which was sitting on the coffee table in front of them.

“You kinda stole my drink.”

All Marinette can think to say back is, “Who are you?”

She watches as the stranger goes through visible phases of shock, confusion, and finally, acceptance.

“Oh. Oops. Well hi, my name’s Tim, it’s nice to meet you,” he says, awkwardly offering a handshake which Marinette slowly accepts.

At the sound of a muffled groan, the two turn their heads just in time to catch Skye facepalming and shaking her head.

Skye simply tells them, “Ignore me. And also Tim’s awkwardness.”

“Ok then. Hi, I’m Marinette. What’s this about stealing your drink?” she asks, quirking an eyebrow.

Tim runs a hand through his hair and collapses against the couch. “Skye’s given me, well both of us, I guess, a bit of a choice. I’m guessing from my experience with her, she’s either going to have things stay the same, or have us follow through on her little plan.

They’re an impossible person to bribe or bargain with, and once they've got an idea for shenanigans in their head, hell would sooner freeze over than if they don't enact those plans.”

Narrowing her eyes, Marinette snatches her coffee off the table and takes a sip. “Does this ultimatum, because that's what this sounds like, an ultimatum, have the power to revoke my coffee privileges?”

Grimacing, Tim nods. “Short answer, yes. Since only one Skye Special™ is allowed per shift, it’s first come first serve between the two of us. And I guess Carrie, but she doesn’t usually stop by during Skye’s shift so she’s a bit of an outlier.”

“Wait-“ Marinette starts. “So what’s the other option? Skye is either going to keep it how it is, or…?

Rubbing at the back of his neck with one hand and nervously tugging at the collar of his crew neck with the other, Tim’s eyes darted towards Skye.

“About that. I actually have no clue. She basically sent me over here so I could drag you back to the register. They said they would only tell me their ‘proposition’ if both of us came over to her.”

Marinette sighed. She knew something was up with Skye today. Looking back over to Tim she asks with a deadpan expression, “How much do you wanna bet she has a dramatic speech planned?”

Tim smirks. “Five bucks says she’ll have visuals to really drive home the point.”

If it weren’t for the informality of the situation, Marinette would’ve found herself embarrassed by the snort she let out at Tim’s statement.

Closing her laptop and stuffing it along with her sketchbook into her bag, Marinette stands. “Let’s go see if you win that five bucks.”

As they approach, Skye’s smile widens. “Ah, I knew you were capable of simple tasks, Timmy my boy. Not that there was ever any doubt.”

Tim scoffs and playfully shoves the barista, causing her to let out an incredulous ‘Hey!’

Once the two settle in front of Skye, the latter breaks into a smirk. “So, assuming this doofus-“ Skye says, jerking their thumb at Tim, “Has filled you in, Nettie, who’d like to hear my oh so generous, proposition, shall we say?”

With Marinette’s insistence to go on and Tim’s nod, Skye situates herself so she’s once again sitting on the counter, legs swung over the side.

“I’m cutting you both off.” The sentence is short, said without a hint of hesitation, and Skye tells them with such conviction the decision seems ironclad.

It’s so devastatingly inconceivable the five words make both Marinette and Tim’s hearts drop to their stomachs and disintegrate in the acid there.

The two stand there dumbfounded for a few seconds, processing. It’s only broken when Tim’s hands, previously shaking, fly to his hair raking through it while a strangled gargle claws its way out of his throat. It’s soon followed by the small pitiful whimpers falling from Marinette’s lips. His hysterical and frantic cry of, “WHAT?!” overlaps with Marinette’s desperate pleas.

“Don’t worry,” Skye assures, holding up her hands in a placating manner. “I’m not fully cutting you off.”

With that piece of information, both their shoulders sag in relief, and their eyes lose the panicked wild looks they were holding.

“Oh thank fuck !” Tim exclaims. “Don’t fucking scare me like that Skye.”

Marinette, who shares similar sentiments, add, “You little shit. There is a very small amount of topics you do not make jokes like that about with me. Coffee is very high on that list.”

Skye just smiles cheekily. “Sorry, I couldn't help it. Playing devil’s advocate is the epitome of devious chaos.”

“Also, maybe not be the best way to phrase it, but the statement was still true. I am cutting you off. From Skye Specials™ only though. From now on, unless you can accomplish the task I will see before you two, you’re banned from Skye Specials™.”

Tim's jaw hangs open, and Marinette’s brows are furrowed, lips pursed.

“Why not just keep it as it is?” Marinette points out. “The limit can stay one Skye Special™ per shift, it will be on a first come first serve basis.”

Skey shakes their head. “And where,” they say, looking Marinette in the eyes before letting their stare move to Tim’s, “is the fun in that?”

Whipping out their phone, Skye clicks a few things before turning it so it faces them. It’s rotated so that it’s landscape, and Tim lets out an unbelieving bark of laughter at what he sees.

He barely makes out Marinette’s whispered, “Guess I owe you five bucks.”

“I have prepared a Google Slides,” Skye says proudly. “It’s very simple.” She points to the slide being displayed, presumably the title slide, and Marinette stares at the words ‘The Coffee Trials’. The subtext underneath the bigger centered title reads, ‘Trial #2: Creation’.

“As you can see, I’m implementing this as the second installment of The Coffee Trials. You will have to work together to, drumroll please…” Despite no one giving a drum roll, Skye still clicks on their phone to unveil the next slide with exuberant enthusiasm and a single jazz hand once the slide is revealed. “Make The Motherload yourselves!”

The next slide has only a picture of The Motherload and a textbox with three confetti emojis.

“Ignore the low-budget slides, I didn't have enough time to put into this. Anyways! Onto the rules-” With another tap on their phone screen, Skye reveals the next slide, which contains a numbered list.

“Rule one, you are given an indefinite amount of time to try and recreate The Motherload. Simple enough. Though you don’t have to have the exact measurements or method of making it, the ingredients all have to be the same, and it has to taste similar as well. I’ll give leeway on all other aspects, though.

Rule two, you are allowed to show me one attempt per week, and by per week, I mean Sunday through Saturday. You don’t have to wait seven days between each attempt.

Rule three, once per week, per week having the same meaning as rule two, you are allowed to ask for a hint. The hint given will always be an ingredient, and if a hint is asked for and can be given, but there are no more ingredients to confirm, you will each be given an espresso cup full of The Motherload to drink and appraise.

This is the one exception to the fact you are cut off from Skye Specials™, and you are only allowed to drink the sample, as well as look at it. Without any high-powered tech. No cheating by examining it beyond a simple look.

Rule four, not only must you adhere to all prior rules, but you may not ask for or receive outside help, and to enact the two previous rules, those being attempting to confirm your creation or gathering hints, it must be triggered by the both of you .

That’s right, I’ve saddled you with a group project.”

Marinette is lost for words. She looks over at Tim who seems similarly bewildered.

“That's basically it. Any questions?” Skye asks, face the embodiment of innocence.

Tim looks a bit shell-shocked, Marinette realizes. She quite agrees with the reaction, however.

“I don't have enough caffeine to be able to think about or deal with this right now. I don't have enough sleep to deal with this absurdity. And my whole life is dealing with absurdity.”

Tim’s nodding along with every word Marinette is saying, and oh isn't it great she’s not the only one thrown off by this.

“Well, I think the both of you should sleep and mull this over with well-rested heads. It’s quite a lot to spring onto someone this late, I guess.”

Tim numbly nods, and he and Marinette find themselves walking out of the cafe together, Tim holding the door open for her as they exit.

“Well that ,” Tim begins, “is a type of strange I didn't think I’d have to deal with today.”

Marinette giggles, smiling up at the man beside her. “A different brand of crazy from the usual,” she concedes. “Though it’s a nice change of pace from some of the regular crazy I’ve had to deal with.”

Smiling back down at her, Tim adds, “You’re not wrong.”

They stand there together, staring at each other, for a few seconds, before Tim clears his throat. “You know,” he says, cheeks suddenly the slightest bit pinker. “If you’d like, I can give you my number in case we end up actually going through with Skye’s nefarious plot.”

Surprised by her willingness and excitement, Marinette breathes out a, “Sure,” before handing over her phone.

It’s only after Marinette’s home and ready for bed that she contemplates just what had happened at the coffee shop. Or how it was unfairly hard to think of it without her mind circling back to Tim.

There are too many thoughts in her head to try and confront why looking at Tim’s contact made her smile.

He’d only put in his contact name; Tim, his number, and a short sentence in the notes. ‘u owe me $5.’

> Next

AN: Forgive my many spelling mistakes, I have the horrible tendency to only write for this fic in the dead of night. i have this fic on ao3, but I realized I never posted it to tumblr as more than a link. if you wanna keep up with it, but dont wanna subscribe to it on ao3, just ask to be added to the taglist either through this post or an ask to my blog and I'll keep you updated!

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coulsonlives · 2 years

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To the peep in my inbox here ya go, fuck it:

Tldr: an anti posts ship hate in a tag, a trans person tells them to tag it, the anti is offended and bullies them for months, and calls them a transphobe for fictional headcanons the anti also has, and calls them a number of slurs including crazy, cissy, etc, until they leave and possibly commit suicide.

The anti’s name is “Howl” and he’s @eightdoctor.

The victim is Jazz @angerissue @helicarrier.

For Howl, I looked through his blog to see if I could find anything on him, and he lives in the uk or across the pond, based on timezones, and he’s posted a lot of selfies so if you ever come across someone like this, steer fucking clear if you value your mental health. (This is readily accessible public info on his blog fwiw.) I feel sick to my stomach so I’ll just post all the shit I found.

I think it started with this,

Howl posted anti shit in a character tag:

https://eightdoctor.tumblr.com/post/672832902144376832/wait-this-person-is-so-crazy-check-this-shit

He was obviously looking to start shit and annoy people and be a ship policer, but Angerissue pointed this out and she got so much harassment in return.

Howl literally reblogged that ship post over and over again to shit on Angerissue with new little "damning things” he got from her huge HUGE blog that she ran, like did he just sit on her blog for hours to find these tiny things or wtf?? There’s so much stuff on her blog, I can’t even begin to think how he even found what he was posting. What happened to don’t like don’t read:

https://eightdoctor.tumblr.com/post/676090902015524864

After that came this:

https://eightdoctor.tumblr.com/post/676032972316688384/this-person-went-to-the-er-cuz-i-called-them-out

“Haha cissy”

“White savior tendencies”

What the actual fuck?

I looked at Angerissue’s posts and things to see if I could find any white savior narrative and I found literally nothing, not even anything about race at all.

“I wish they’d died in the er actually”

He literally encouraged his posse to bully her off tumblr, a bunch of antis joined in. Someone said Angerissue blocked them and it must have meant she was a homophobe (noo, it couldn’t be because they were harassing her, no way, she must have blocked them because she’s a homophobe, these fucking wankers with no compassion). Someone said “wow she posted all that instead of just apologizing” when nobody asked for an apology or even tried to talk to her, it was all attacks!

https://waxwingsfail.tumblr.com/post/672859227785773056/brooo-are-we-just-gonna-ignore-this

Look at all the checkboxes this guy checks off. He calls Angerissue ableist while being ableist himself (“this person is crazy”), and while Angerissue I’m guessing is disabled because she has migraines! And lots of other things he can’t even substantiate, while he acts hateful about cis people himself and calls her a “cissy”. I’m fucking LIVID.

I guess nobody actually went to Angerissue to talk to her, they just jumped into the mob with their pitchforks.

The only KIND OF questionable thing was “female pronouns” but a lot of people make that mistake and I checked Angerissue’s blog, she had changed it?? And any thing else just seems like bad wording, I don’t see any actual transphobia, she checks out to be an actually good person and her comments on her blog even say she was open to fixing things she does wrong, I just.

All of Angerissue’s phrasing was easily explained by ignorance or just bad wording, and I know someone who gets migraines, sometimes you just fuck up your words (idr what the name for that is) so that’s a possibility too, why attribute such tiny fuckups to malice right out of the gate?!

(Don’t even get me started on Howl’s about page. He’s obviously an anti so this whole thing just reeks of a smear campaign.)

Also Howl has a headcanon of his own about Bruce Banner (the character Angerissue writes and Howls’ special interest) having internalized homophobia too, so why did he say “lol they made them a transphobe with their whole chest” about Angerissue like it was an attack on her as a person?? And say “can we bully her off the website now”?

https://eightdoctor.tumblr.com/post/180778623661/what-are-your-top-10-headcanons-about-bruce

He was shitting on Angerissue and telling people to bully her for literally the same headcanon he has! What a hypocrite.

I also found this joke post a long time back into his blog, but obviously it’s not just a joke for him, it’s something he bullied Angerissue over because he couldn’t accept her own headcanons and he even bullied her over things he had the same headcanon for (but he didn’t mention that of course, because if Angerissue was horrible for having that headcanon it would mean he was too, and he couldn’t have that could he?):

https://eightdoctor.tumblr.com/post/177280551336

Also Howl captured a paragraph where Angerissue explained Bruce Banner’s mental illness started in his childhood then got worse when he met another character (Wanda maximoff), and right below that, even tho the EVIDENCE WAS RIGHT THERE IN THE CAPTURE, Howl accused Angerissue of making that new character cause Bruce Banner’s mental illness instead of it starting in his youth (here, under the reblog with the weird dick comment...)

This went on for months apparently.

The worst part is, Angerissue says she is nonbinary on her blog so I can’t imagine how hard this was for her, imagine being called a transphobe for a headcanon by someone who has the same headcanon.

Edit: Thanks to a comment I just learned that “cissy” is a derogatory slur made towards cis people, so by calling Angerissue “cissy” Howl was implying she wasn’t trans (or nonbinary), but cis. If that isn’t transphobic, idk what is. You can’t take identities away to bully or punish people, holy shit.

Now Angerissue seems to have not been on for months, and she made some very worrying posts about killing herself. I was talking to one of her friends which is how I found about all this, and they haven’t heard from her either, even though they’ve been in good contact for a year. Angerissue put ten years of her life into a passion character, she made gut-wrenchingly beautiful gifs and fics and made a mainstay blog for the roleplay commuity, and this is what she got. This was the kind of person she was. I hope she’s still alive but I don’t know if she is, and I’m horrified and sick and something needs to be done even if that isn’t the case.

THIS ISNT FUNNY, ITS NOT A FUCKING JOKE, STOP BULLYING PEOPLE OVER FUCKING HEADCANONS OR HONEST MISTAKES BECAUSE YOU WANT A TEMPORARY LAUGH ABOUT HOW (NOT) MORALLY SUPERIOR YOU ARE, YOU ABSOLUTE FUCKS.

Footnote edit 1: Confirmation directly from Jazz's blog that Howl spent at least 3 hours initially on her blog to dig around for things, then posted more things after a month, and a lot more things that prove Howl's accusations about her were false.

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meowzfordayz · 3 years

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elusive, enigmatic, epiphany

Author’s Note: don’t be a jerk. 🤗

elusive, enigmatic, epiphany

Shinazugawa Sanemi x Reader

Word Count: ~2,600

CW: explicit language, mild sexual content, traumatic references

Request Fulfilled: Hi! I really love your sanemi fics ! Can I request a bully sanemi who bullies his s/o and then suddenly falling in love with her?

~faqs~

Elusive

He doesn’t know where he went wrong. Genuinely. Doesn’t know when you quit waving shyly at him, walking into class with your oversized, always hot beverage. “You’re gonna burn your tongue.” He counts. One… two… thr- Oh! “Told ya so.” Piss off. Doesn’t know when that edge of malice, so thin yet undeniable, so unexpected and rough, wrapped itself around your tone. Piss off used to feel like flirting; encouraged and provoked him; almost made him blush. Now? Now he bites his tongue as you burn yours, familiar words decapitated by his self committed hesitance. Is he abrasive? Sure. Is he the most cheerful lab partner? Not exactly. But at least he says shit unlike that Giyuu kid ?? At least he takes care of his half, and takes care of it well unlike that attractive Akaza douche ?? He knows he looks like a badass slacker, knows you were pleasantly surprised when he turned out to be a straight A student, knows you’re levelheaded — was even pleasantly surprised himself when your eyes spared his scars only a fleeting glance.

So where. The fuck. Did I. Go wrong.

?????

“G’morning partner,” he smiles lazily.

You scowl, slinking into the stool beside him, signature hot beverage sloshing as you plop it on the table, “I hate 8am labs.”

“Then why’d ya sign up for one?”

“Because I’m busy,” you snap.

Sanemi’s too stunned by the frazzled lilt in your voice to be bothered by your sharpness. You? Frazzled? That’s… new. Alarming.

“Too busy to take care of yourself?”

He means to ask gently, kindly — caringly? But it comes out. Well. It comes out harsh. Mocking. Critical. Maybe I need to take better care of myself too. Grumpy asshole.

You ignore him. He tries again.

“Is there anything I could do for ya?”

You take a long sip.

“You’re gonna burn your tongue.”

Wincing as you burn yourself.

“Told ya so.”

“Piss off,” you roll your eyes.

“I finished my portion of the lab report,” he winks playfully.

“Thanks,” you mutter.

“Sanemi. Stop bothering them,” Akaza saunters to your table, sterile light glinting cockily off his shiny, too-straight teeth.

“They’re my lab partner,” he retorts.

“Clearly,” Akaza scoffs. Leans on the table, face far too close to yours, “Is Sanemi bothering you, [y/n]?”

“You. Both. Are,” you grit, willing yourself to not crush your takeout cup. To not toss your drink in Akaza’s predatory eyes. To not look at Sanemi for help.

“We could trade partners?” Akaza persists slyly, nodding at Douma, “Stick Sanemi with Douma while you and I-”

“I said. You. Both. Are. So fuck. Off.”

As standoffish as Sanemi can be, he’s annoyingly observant, and he’s right—you have been too busy to take care of yourself, and your tolerance for bullshit is at an all time low.

Akaza’s eyebrow twitches dangerously. Sanemi’s eyes narrow at the movement. You look down at your hands. The sight of them trembling makes Sanemi’s blood boil, but yours spills over faster.

“Get the fuck away from me, Akaza. It’s too early for your creepy suggestions.”

He’s always creepy Sanemi glowers.

“Okay, okay. Just tell your puppy not to bark at me,” Akaza laughs easily, tension seeping from his shoulders.

You bristle momentarily, acid on the tip of your tongue, but exhaustion sinks its foggy, inevitable claws into your eyelids instead.

“Whatever, Akaza. Lab’s starting soon.”

You prop your chin on the flimsy, plastic lid of your cup, eyes squeezing shut. What a fucking prick Sanemi grunts… unsettled, by Akaza’s triumphant, smug rhythm as he returns to his table.

“You’re not my puppy,” you mumble.

“Aww, are you reassuring me, [y/n]?” Sanemi smirks.

UGH, “No, bitch. I’m-” you cut yourself off, tiredness slurring your intent, “Just don’t.”

“You should go home.”

Your eyes widen at that, back straightening as you look directly at Sanemi.

“I can’t fail this lab.”

“I won’t let you hurt yourself.”

“I can’t fail this lab,” you hate how caught off guard, vulnerable—naked—you feel.

“You won’t fail this lab. We’re partners. Go home. Sleep. Just. Don’t come to lab looking like,” Sanemi gestures vaguely at you, “Utter crap.”

That was a few weeks ago.

You still show up to lab—looking marginally less drained. Still sit on the stool beside him. Still submit A worthy work. Always burn your tongue. But that edge. The secrecy in your eyes—as though you understood how nice, considerate, soft Sanemi could be—lost in translation. The lacking, the suddenness, teases, torments, taunts him. You’d accepted his offer. Gone home. Hopefully slept. He hadn’t followed up, but you’d seemed in higher spirits afterwards. Except, of course, for that edge.

Enigmatic

“I didn’t know you knew how to have fun,” Sanemi drawls.

“And you do? Even drunk, you manage to glare at everyone.”

“You were keeping tabs on me?” he blames the alcohol for how hot his ears feel.

“I don’t know anyone else here.”

Sanemi pauses. Then why come? but he knows why. Had to listen to Akaza badgering, coaxing, pestering you—the entire week—to attend his “rager”. To be fair, it is a rager. The air, thick from sweat and grinding; the music, blinding, pumping, repetitive; the lights, dazzling, pulsing, vibrant; the people, thoroughly enjoying themselves, probably gassed on being invited to Akaza’s. And Sanemi? His scars, his reputation, open doors. Nobody asks how or why. Assumption is simpler, for everyone — for him. Less pity. Less trauma. Less reliving, regretting, grieving. Less effort to maintain his facade of knowing who and how he feels. Who is he? How does he feel? He doubts he could drink enough alcohol—without being hospitalized—to willingly peek beneath his translucent armor.

“You look…” Sanemi’s snark dies in his throat.

Because. You. You look. So out of place. He digs his evenly filed nails into his calloused palms. So damn gorgeous. He doesn’t realize he’s staring daggers, overwhelmed by his tunnel vision of you.

“How do I look, Sanemi?” you seethe, “Like crap?”

“Yes…” he whispers. You look beautiful. Unfocused, detached. Floating in the color of your shirt, the glimmer in your eyes, the devastating scent of you. In front of him. Unafraid. Talking with him. Indulging him. “What did you say?”

Your lip curls in disgust, already spinning, already leaving him.

Huh?

Fuck.

He doesn’t know how he messed up. Drunk. Drunk, drunk, drunk. He just knows this type of leaving panics him. This isn’t leaving because he asked you to. This isn’t leaving because he’s taking care of you. Because he’s looking out for you. Because he cares, he cares, he cares. FUCK. This is leaving because you don’t see him as he sees you. This is leaving because there was never understanding, never anything lost — never. Anything. This is just. Leaving.

What a fucking idiot. You tilt your head back—slosh—barely flinching as you chug the rest of your watery beer. Wiping your mouth on your wrist. Careless. Sloppy. Too busy to take care of yourself.

“[y/n]? You know… the fun isn’t outside. All alone. On the porch.”

You freeze.

“Azaka.”

“Heyyy, why the cold welcome?” he grins, walking toward you.

“You…” you trail off, noticing something peculiar… “You’re not, drunk?”

He laughs loudly, running casual fingers through his cotton candy hair, “I am 100% sober. How else could I make sure everyone’s having a blast?” he eyes your empty beer bottle, the hunch of your spine as you lean against the porch’s railing, “Which, something tells me you’re not.”

“Sanemi’s a jerk,” you’re only a few beers in, but Fuck it, if Akaza’s willing to listen, then I’m taking advantage. “He’s a fine lab partner, but he’s moody, unpredictable, angry, stony nice, considerate, soft. I swear he has some complex going on.”

“Oh?” he smiles cheekily, “I assumed you were into that.”

You sputter. Thank fuck I finished drinking because you definitely would’ve choked on your beer.

“C’mon [y/n], you’ve diligently sat on that stool next to his pathetic grimace lab after lab after lab. Even though I wanted to swap you for Douma.”

“I’m not a thing for you to swap,” you huff.

“What do you think of his scars?”

“Douma’s?”

“Sanemi’s,” he corrects you patiently, entertained by the redness of your eyes, the cracks in your mirror of prim, proper, perfect.

“I don’t gossip,” you cross your arms.

“You said he’s a jerk,” Akaza pries.

“Scars are… personal.”

To your belated surprise, he drops the subject, eyes bordering on sincere as he acknowledges your persistence — your integrity.

“Thank you for coming,” he smiles brightly.

You’re about to exhale shakily, the sourness coating your tongue slowly dissolving, when he swivels around, eyes mischievous. He’s excited—giddy—to shatter you.

“Sanemi’s probably looking for you.”

Flipping you a curious thumbs up, he slinks back inside, confident aura melting into the crowd.

Epiphany

He finds you. Looking. Shoving. Through the mass of stressed, depressed, enthralled young adults. He hates the irony. Too young to be taken seriously. Too old to be taken care of. What is [y/n] looking for? he muses Who?, struggling to hold onto his thoughts as the omnipresent bass threatens to devour him whole. He’s more sober than he was an hour ago. More sober. But not, sober. He wishes he could catch your gaze. Feels like he’s pretty obvious with his white hair, stark amidst the smattering of neon flashes; forest green shirt partially unbuttoned to reveal the jaggedness, the menace, of his scars; white hoodie unzipped, somehow immaculate despite the pressure; lavender eyes dark with their usual stubbornness. Subconsciously, he weaves a path to you, people stumbling out of his way whenever they recognize him. Akaza’s apartment isn’t large, it’s the kind of space that feels like it’s gasping for breath as more and more people wander in, so How are you getting farther and farther away?

“Sanemi?!”

Oh.

You’re.

Here.

“Are you okay?” he asks—demands.

You’re flushed, eyes… damp?

“I’m too sober for this,” you smile wryly.

“I’m not sober enough,” he grumbles.

You can’t hear him. You motion for him to follow you. Down the haphazard staircase. Into the street. The middle, of the street.

“We’re gonna get hit by a car.”

“It’s like 1am Sanemi, we’re not going to get hit by a car.”

“Bitch.”

He stays.

Admires the haze of dim streetlamps illuminating your eyelashes, goosebumps raising as your alcohol blanket dissipates, soaking in the coolness of distance, no longer stuffed in that overheated, insufferable box. Akaza’s box.

“I’m not sober enough,” Sanemi punctures the silence.

“Not sober enough for what?”

You can’t help yourself, eyes tracing the map of his scars as he fiddles with his hoodie’s drawstrings. They look… tender. As tender as his mannerisms are, scathing. As tender as his quips are, more on target than you’d ever let him know. As tender as… Well, I suppose he’s not so tender you sigh inwardly.

“Why did you stop?” Sanemi blurts, heart beating in his ears.

“Stop?”

“You used to flirt with me,” Shut up, shut up, shut up he can’t shut himself up, “And then you stopped.”

Humiliation paints desolation across his expression as he glares—fiercely—at you. As though it’s your fault he can’t control himself. Your fault he wants to let you in. He sucks at letting you in. Knows that through all the layers of his awareness.

“You’re cruel.”

“That’s it?” he snarls, “I’m cruel. So cruel. You don’t know me, [y/n]. You don’t ask, you don’t worry. You don’t know me. You know whoever I decide to be for the day. And you just take it. You sit your pretty ass beside me, burn your tongue, and leave.”

“You don’t know me, either, dipshit. You can’t empathize for shit.”

“I LITERALLY SENT YOU HOME BECAUSE YOU WERE DEAD ON YOUR FEET.”

You hiss.

Eyes blinking rapidly.

Tears. Tears glistening. So quickly. So terrifyingly. You’re quivering. He’s so… soft.

“Listen to yourself, Sanemi. You’re so cruel.”

“I JUST WANT TO TAKE CARE OF YOU DUMBASS.”

“THEN STOP FUCKING YELLING AT ME BITCH.”

He shudders. Laughs. Hysterically. Affection flooding his senses. I’m yelling at you, aren’t I?

“I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not,” you sniffle, both of your middle fingers directed at him.

“You’re right. I wasn’t listening to myself. I was yelling.”

“I was falling apart that day,” you whimper, “And you told me I looked like utter crap.”

He balks, confused by your confession.

“And tonight. You said I looked like crap.”

“You look beautiful,” Sanemi whispers.

“I don’t care how I look!” you’re exasperated, impatient, uncertain, “I care about how you feel, and you’re the opposite of straightforward. You ran me ragged, Sanemi. And you know what happens when you run someone ragged? They stop. Running. I can handle just about everything else, but not you.”

“I ran you ragged?”

“How do you feel, Sanemi? I can’t do this when I can’t even trust how you feel.”

Memories bubble to the surface of his tongue. Of your shy wave, your rare giggle, constantly burning your tongue. Constantly wondering if he could kiss it better. Of sitting alone on his bed past midnight, opening your shared lab report documents, smiling at your meticulous, precise writing. Constantly wondering if you cherish his effort as much as he cherishes you. Of attempting, once, twice, three times, to ask for your number, each time reminding himself that They’re just your lab partner. Each time reminding himself that This connection is finite. Each time wondering What if they’re just as anxious to ask me? Of how quietly you’d commented on his scars. You’d been extra drowsy that morning. A slip of the tongue. A slip of your professional exterior. “Your scars make me feel something, Sanemi,” and then your tentative smile, “I hope that wasn’t too impolite of me. We’ve been working together for a while now. They’re hard to… they’re hard to miss, you know?” He’d shrugged, tongue tied, lungs shriveled, heart stuttering.

“Never mind, Sanemi,” you’re numb, “I should Uber home,” disappointed, “I’ll see you in lab.”

“I want to know you.”

He holds out his hoodie When did he take it off ??, stepping closer to you.

“You’re shivering, [y/n].”

Wordlessly, you accept his gift. His surrender. His compromise.

“I want to know why you signed up for an 8am lab. I want to know why you’re so busy. I want to know why it’s difficult to take care of yourself, sometimes. And I,” he breathes deeply, unnerved by the rawness in your eyes, “I want to be your partner. Your lab partner. Your friend. Your… however you’ll have me,” he swallows hoarsely as your icy hand reaches for his, “I want to help you decompress. I want to help you take care of yourself, always. I want to let you in. I want to feel for you,” you thread your fingers between his, marveling at how warm, how fragile, they are, “I want to know who I am with you, to know how I feel with you.”

“Do you want my number?”

He blushes. Truly and completely. From the angles of his cheekbones to the contours of his chest.

“Please, [y/n].”

You press your body faintly to his, hand still grasping his, “Am I allowed to double text?”

He rolls his eyes, “My number is yours, all strings attached.”

“Are you going to ghost me?”

A fragment of his soul flickers, tormented by how untrusting, how delicate, how warranted, your fear is.

“I want to let you in. No more, [y/n]... no more shutting you out.

#sanemi shinazugawa #shinazugawa sanemi #sanemi x reader #shinazugawa x reader #wind hashira #one shot #college au #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer

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cloudninetonine · 3 years

Text

A past that still haunts me

A/N: Hey guys, it's me (ya boi) I'm back with my still current hyper fixation Genshin Impact and a vent fic because I've been really stressed and well, it's hard living in my house :) It's a hurt/comfort fic because they always get to me and I needed to make something for myself

I am willing to do aftermath where the boys confront the abuser or do scenario but with different characters

Synopsis: You’re not a damsel in distress, you never have been and you never will be, but, well, sometimes you need a hero to rely on and that’s okay

Characters: Diluc, Kaeya, Zhongli and Childe

Warnings: Hints to past abuse, confrontation of abuser, violence, mentions of blood, threats, foul language

It had meant to be like any other menial day of an adventurer: sign in with Katheryne, complete your commissions, sign out with Katheryne with your payments - done and dusted.

But that wasn’t how it went, no, far from it - archons, so damn far from it.

“Thank you once again, (Name)” Katheryne’s smile was kind like usual, holding that familiar feeling of gratitude as she handed over your remission within a marked package, hand returning to the desk’s polished surface once you had taken it graciously, sending her a beaming grin back. “The Guild really appreciates your work ethic when it comes to the Ruin machines, it’s hard to come across adventurers who want to handle them anymore”

You sent her a shrug as you placed away the box “Can’t blame them really, they’re a hard bunch to handle- I was terrified of them when I first started too, but I had my vision to help me out, a lot of these folk only use there pure determination to eradicate them, gotta admire that!”

She laughed along with you politely “Have a good evening, (Name), I’ll see you again tomorrow?”

“Of course you will!” You backpedalled away from the guild reception, throwing the woman a polite double fingered salute as you did “Ad astra abyssoque as they say, my fair lady!”

She parrotted back her usual phrase before disappearing into the building, you walking further down the path of the city for your final activity for that day.

Of course, you didn’t reach that far, after all, it wasn’t that menial day you had expected, that you had wanted. Life was cruel sometimes, so incredibly cruel for no justified reason just for the sake of it all and you wished, archons, you wished you could rewind the clock and stop yourself from bumping into the body, to save yourself from all the repressed trauma bursting forth like a flurry of butterflies, well, more like moths, disgusting, ungodly, monster moths that aimed straight for the face.

“Sorry!” You yelped, too preoccupied with gathering your pocketwatch you had dropped in the stumble to see who it had been, after all, you were on a schedule and you didn’t want to be-

“(Name)?”

...late.

All of a sudden, time didn’t seem to exist, or maybe it was moving way too slowly from that horrid spike of adrenaline that shot into your bloodstream as soon as the voice registered.

You hoped to the Archons that it wasn’t, that it couldn’t, but did the gods hear your prayers?

“Oh Archons, it is you! It’s been such a long time!”

Of course, they did, they just didn’t care to listen. Ignoring the cries of your people were in fashion to them these days.

They stood there with a smile so excited it almost seemed to tear their face in half, with eyes sparkling with recognition after so many years away from them, they opened their arms welcoming you into their embrace like it was something just so normal for the two of you like you would come bounding to them like a lost puppy who had finally found their master.

The fear of your abuser dwarfed in comparison the pure feral rage and loathing to think that they even deserved to be breathing in the same space as you.

People were looking, of course, they were looking, you knew what they were doing, being bright and jovial, bringing others attention towards you both so that whatever scene you caused would be your fault like you were the bad guy. It was old tactics, of course, you wouldn’t dare do anything when you were younger, you’d just push through it, but this wasn’t old times, this wasn’t younger you, scared, smaller you afraid them, this was you now, a warrior, unwavering in battle, a person who smiled in the face of danger, who laughed at the pitiful fights that 2- no- 4 abyss mages brought to you!

To hell what other people thought, you’d stomp their head into the cobblestone if they had so much as poked you.

“Come here and give me a-”

You took a step back, mustering the deadliest face you could, but you wavered, it was only natural, no matter how much you could try to hype yourself up, this person was your first true experience of real-life nightmares, the first person to bring you true pain, no matter how many ruin guards, hunters, millachurls, mages- anything you faced, nothing could prepare you to face your first fear:

The fear of your older sibling.

“If you fucking touch me I’ll stab you-” The growl cracked nearing the end, you were always an angry crier but you were not about to fall back to this- this monster. “In front of all these people, I won’t hesitate”

Their face dropped followed by your stomach, though, the food you had for lunch sure did feel its way up your gullet.

“What’s with your language? We haven’t seen each other in four years and this is how you treat me? Your older sibling?” They laughed in disbelief because onlookers would think they were shocked, I mean, how could you speak to family like that? But they didn’t know, they didn’t know the words they had told you, the insults, the threats, those tight grabs, those beatings- they didn’t know, so they obviously didn’t know that the shock came from the fact that you had stood up to them.

You licked your lips to get rid of the dryness, but the problem you faced was that your mouth had dried out along with them, as did your throat.

Don’t let them turn this on you, don’t let them get the upper hand, you were better than them, so much better.

“You’re not my fucking sibling” You spat, feeling the air vibrate around you, a sudden shine from your cloak hinted you to the cause “You haven’t been for a long time, don’t fucking try that shit with me”

There it was, that familiar enraged spark, that look of hatred on their face, the thing that warned you about what you said had been the right thing to set them off, that they were just as easily triggered by the smallest act of rebellion just like when you were kids.

Of course, they hadn’t changed.

Evil never did.

They took a step forward but you didn’t back off, just hardened your resolve as they leaned in menacingly, as though their stupid little intimidation tactic still worked after all these years.

You told yourself it didn’t but you knew deep down that wasn’t completely true.

“Don’t speak to me like that, (Name)” Facade gone, they showed you what they really were, what they were really like after all, “Don’t you ever speak to me like that, you show me fucking respect”

Respect?

RESPECT!?

Oh Archons, you were angry, no, seething from the thought that they ever deserved respect.

That pathetic piece of shit, that gruelling pleb, mere gum on the bottom of your damn shoe-

You’d kill them, right here, right now.

You felt the familiar materialisation begin to form in your hand when another voice called out, a familiar loving one that nearly made your throat swell from relief.

“(Name)?”

Diluc

He could sense the tension. Of course, he could sense the tension, Diluc had faced this tension so many times before, he was practically the one that owned such a vibe anytime Kaeya even breathed near him for a second longer than necessary.

But being the one to witness it, to see you, the usual awkward, goofy sweetheart stare at another with such overbearing malice made him uneasy, caused his stomach to churn in ways he didn’t like, set him off in a way that was only reserved for the most chilling on moments.

Diluc wondered what exactly this stranger had done to warrant such a reaction from you.

“(Name)?” The redhead called, glancing around the many citizens of Mondstadt that watched the exchange with intrigue, guard and worry, eyes focused on the scene of this foreign stranger and fuming you, hand poised by your side with weapon particles dancing on your palm.

When Diluc finally made it over, his form seemed to curl protectively around you, hand landing on the small of your back delicately while keeping face with the person, eyes narrowed dangerously but still holding an air of civilness.

A true gentleman, even when you were close to merking some rando.

“Is there a problem?”

The stranger straightened immediately, backing up a few steps with their hands up in defence, sending Diluc a charming smile that the man could see through crystal clear.

“No problem, no problem at all” They glanced back at you, seemingly friendly despite his partner’s obvious ill intent that radiated off you in waves “Isn’t that right, (Name)?”

Diluc saw you tense up once again, the buzz from your Vision rising in volume with your obvious anger as you tightened your first, ready to just screw your weapon and go for the throat.

“If that is the case” The noble’s hand softly pressed against your back, gently but coaxing, knowing that conflict in the middle of the town centre would just bring the knights to meddle in affairs that they had no business attending “Then we shall be going”

“There’s no need to leave, after all, my sibling and I were just chatting”

He paused, shouldering a questioning glance your way but at the sight of your unruly expression, he pushed down his enquiries and once again began coaxing you away from the scene. Angel’s Share had already been open for a while, meaning the usual folk would already be settled in, but the storage room was sure to be a good place to chat and to calm you down, all he needed to do was get you away.

“We already had plans” The side glance had the stranger- your sibling, biting their tongue, brows furrowing in a known annoyance as the two of you began your way towards the pub, you still vibrating in anger. “Good day to you”

The two of you had made it a few feet when they called out once again “Don’t worry, (Name), I’ll see you again real soon”

Diluc’s arm tightened around you faster than you could react, tugging you away quickly “Diluc-”

“No, (Name)”

“Stay out-”

“Not here” Sharing a look, he softened at the shine in your eyes. “You’ll just attract the knights' attention”

You didn’t care, no, not one bit. If the knights had dared to interfere at that moment, they too would have been caught up in your blinded revenge, thrown aside or slashed down without single care just to finally eradicate the bane of your existence and you didn’t care about what consequences you brought about, you just didn’t and you made sure to tell Diluc that, as soon as you had the privacy of Angel’s Share’s storeroom, pacing up and down while he stood off to the side against the wall, watching silently.

“You had no right to get in my way!” You snapped, voice shaking from the pure emotions you were releasing “I finally had my chance, I was finally going to do it! They deserve to end by my hand, by my decision, after the years of torture they put me through! They deserved it! And you got in my way! How could you get in my way! I-”

Pushing off the wall, he slowly advanced towards you, carefully, hands out like he was approaching a wounded animal.

“I understand you’re upset-”

“I’m not upset!” You cried at him, stopping mid-step before dropping your head and tightly, grabbing your hair in your hands “I’m not upset! I’m angry! I’m so fucking angry! And I deserve to be fucking angry! I-”

The sob ripped through your throat despite you trying to hold it back, tears finally gathering in your eyes and rapidly falling down your cheeks “You should have let me kill them! I should have had the chance to rid the world of their evil! It’s not fair! It’s not- it’s not fair, I-”

You didn’t bother to fight him when his arms finally wrapped around you, just fell against him as you wept. The pent up rage, fear and sadness from years of repression taking its toll as you cried, your partner whispering sweet words as he raked his hand through your hair gently and leaned his head against yours.

“I’m sorry” His hand held your cheek fondly, ruby red staring back into your own eyes with a softness that made you melt “I didn’t know this meant so much to you, but if you’re willing to tell me, I’ll listen. I’ll always listen”

With another choked sob, you leaned into his hold “Please just hold me for now”

And he did just that.

Kaeya

The captain had promised to meet you at his office, a simple task really but with the lingering presence of Jean and the words ‘There’s so much work that needs to be done’ leaving her lips he bolted, hoping to catch you by the Guild and drag you to Angel Share for your date. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to help her, it was just he had already promised you this night and Eula could have always taken his place with paperwork, her threat of “vengeance” as she liked to call it could wait for another day.

It was also due to the fact he had no intentions of filing any paperwork for as long as he could avoid it, but that was his secret to be kept.

Being the perspective man he was, he could tell straight away he had walked into something tense, surveying the surrounding people of Mondstadt who looked on in concern, the unbridled rage upon your face, the obviously intimidating lean that the stranger held over you- something was wrong and he knew he had to put a stop to it.

“(Name)?” You glanced for a single moment before your furious glare had returned to the stranger, another flag waving right in his face as he approached, “My dear? Who might this be?”

Before you could snap, lip curling in disgust, the stranger stood back to their full height, switching quickly with a fake charming smile that practically mirrored his own, holding out their hand towards him “(S/N) (Last), (Name)’s older sibling. it’s nice to meet you”

Kaeya’s smile widened and despite the glare from you that was now focused on him, he shook your sibling's hand in-kind “Kaeya Alberich, (Name)’s partner-”

He made sure to tighten his grip with his last words “And Cavalry Captain of the Knights of Favonius”

Successfully, as he always was, Kaeya held back the smug, mocking grin that itched to climb onto his face when the neck of your sibling bobbed nervously, forehead reflecting the afternoon light as sweat gathered on their brow.

The man hadn’t obviously threatened them, surely, Kaeya was smarter than that, but then again, he could still present himself as a threat, a good one and well, his title was a menacing one when it came to the right moment. ‘Try anything and not only do I have the authority to kick your arse but the power to put you in a place many didn’t dare even step’ shortened into an innocent sentence with only 8 words.

“Cavalry Captain? That’s quite impressive” They laughed off, tugging away their hand awkwardly when Kaeya continued to keep a firm grip, his present eye focused solely on your siblings face. They glanced over to you “Quite an achievement for you, aye (Name)?”

You growled, “I’ll show you an achievement-”

Kaeya’s arm had wrapped around your waist not a second later, tugging you tighter to his side as the two of you turned, the man throwing your sibling a smile over his shoulder.

“As nice as it was to meet you, (S/B), we must be going”

And then without another word Kaeya dragged you away, heading in the direction of your home instead of Angel Share tavern, feeling your pure, unfiltered anger the whole way along with the citizens as they parted ways, rushing off from your rage.

It was only when you had returned to the sanctuary of your abode did you snap, jerking away from your boyfriend with angered strides and beginning your seething lecture towards him, moving up and down through the living room while he ventured off into the kitchen, grabbing 2 glasses and a bottle of wine.

“How dare you Kaeya! How fucking dare you! Do you have any idea what you were doing back there!? What was even happening back there!? So much for being the most observant man in Mondstadt because you seemed pretty dense to me the whole fucking time!” Your hands raked through your hair as you yelled, trying so hard to hold back the tears “I didn’t need your damn help, Kaeya! Nor did I fucking want it! Know to stay out of someone's business when it isn’t wanted!”

Logically you knew what he had done, you were smart like that and you knew Kaeya long enough to know what he was doing but your rage, fear and sadness blocked out everything in that moment, made you blind to reality, made you only think irrationally and Kaeya didn’t blame you for that. He could never blame you for that.

Though, it did hurt him to see you in this state.

“Wine?”

You gawked at him for a moment, staring at him with shock and confusion as he held out a wine glass towards you, another held in his other hand and a sweet smile plastered on his face, before your moment morphed into rage, grabbing the drink from his hand and tossing it towards the wall, the red wine splattering over the wallpaper and glass shards falling to the floor.

“Well, that was a waste-”

“Do you think I’m an idiot, Kaeya!?” You cried, not even bothering to hold back anymore as the tears fell and your voice cracked, hand pointing accusingly in his face “Is this some kind of joke to you!? Huh!? Am I a fool in your eyes!? Some sort of blubbering idiot!? Why must you- why do you-”

The second glass was placed on the dresser by you both, Kaeya’s hand coming to hold your cheek fondly while the other came to grab your hand that dangled in the air, still poised at him “I don’t think you're either of those, my dear, in fact, I think you’re one of the brightest in the whole of Teyvat, nevermind Mondstadt”

You hiccuped “Then why-”

Brushing away the wetness from your cheek, he brought your hand to his mouth to place a fond kiss on your palm “Because you mustn’t cry, (Name), don’t waste your tears on someone like them”

“I’m not crying, I’m-”

He shushed you gently and you finally relaxed, falling into his embrace with a heavy heart “-I’m not, I swear-”

Within the familiarity of your home, you wept in his arms, exhausted from the whirlwind of emotions and the scenes that had transpired that day, ready to just curl into yourself and try to block the flooding memories of history. Although, having Kaeya at that moment helped more than he could ever know, having him to rely on made it all so much easier to cope with that day.

“Tell me what ails you and I’ll listen” Brushing back some hair, he pressed a kiss to your head.

“Can..can we just stay like this for a while?”

“Of course, my dear”

Zhongli

He had sensed the incoming danger like it had been revealed in some sort of premonition. Maybe it had been a skill he had acquired after his long, eventful life, maybe it was his connection to Liyue and his citizens, but for some reason, as he sat before Iron Tongue Tian as the man recalled his tales of ancient Liyue like usual, Zhongli knew that the crowd that was forming around Wamin Restaurant had something that he need urgently attend, especially when even Tian paused his story to glance around the corner of the restaurant building to see the commotion.

When the archon had finally borne witness to the scene, he paused within the crowd, surveying the surroundings carefully. You were the centre of attention, along with another stranger, both glaring at one another with anger and disgust, though your own anger seemed to double compared to the other’s, seeing as your weapon was slowly materialising in your grip. Zhongli could also see Guild Master Lan making her way down the steps leading to the Guild reception, a worried expression on her face glancing between you and the approaching Millelith.

Zhongli made his decision, politely pushing through the crowd until he had finally made it by your side, hand being placed gently on your arm “(Name)?”

Both you and the stranger glanced at him, but he paid no mind to them, only held eye contact with you when Lan appeared by your other side, glaring at the stranger with a hardened gaze.

“Are you harassing my guild member?”

Before the stranger could respond, the Millelith had also popped in, glancing between you and them “Is there a problem?”

Zhongli had taken up your view when Lan began her take, she had borne witness for much longer than he had of course and he was certain that you were in no state to talk to the guards. Your eyes were glazed with hatred, pupils pinpricks in a sea of (E/C) and your hands were shaking, balled into fists.

If anything, he needed to try and calm you down first.

“Get the hell out of my way, Zhongli” Your teeth ground together, words shaking with anger “Don’t push yourself into my business”

“I’m sorry, my love, but I can’t do that” He tried brushing your cheek but you jerked away, glaring at his hand before glaring back at him, in no mood to be coddled “I don’t want you to do something you’d regret”

“Trust me, I won’t regret this one bit”

Zhongli held his tongue for the question that almost rolled out, knowing now wasn’t the time for inquiries when the stranger’s voice rang out, condescending and snarky as they addressed you.

“Still need people to protect you, aye (Name)? Of course, you’re still the same pathetic bitch from years ago”

You were lucky for your reputation around Liyue, for the picture of the kind and caring adventurer that had swept through the town from your years of living here because had it not been for that, you pushing aside your boyfriend and materialising your weapon to aim it at your sibling’s throat would have had you in cuffs that instant.

Lan grabbed you, tugging you away as you screamed “I’ll show you pathetic you fucker! Let me go!”

The Millelith didn’t wait to drag your sibling away, much to their cries of dismay, one sending Lan a nod while you continued to fight against her, crying out in frustration.

“Kid, you have to calm down-”

“Calm down!? No! Get the hell off me!”

Zhongli watched as you finally broke away, huffing and puffing up a storm before glancing amongst the crowd, staring at their worried and concerned faces, your own eyes tearing up before you looked away pushing past the crowd to find somewhere to be alone.

When Lan went to call out for you, Zhongli raised his hand, the two sharing a look before the archon made his way after you, his longer legs keeping a steady pace to which he could catch up to you, just beyond the bridge that led into Liyue Harbour. There were no people where you stood, just the lush green plants and great mountains of nature, a perfect place for you to let out your frustration without the prying eyes of the citizens.

“(Name)-”

“Leave me alone!” You cried, curling into yourself with your back turned to him “I don’t want you here, Zhongli! Nor did I want you back there! I didn’t need your or anyone else's help!”

You knew he was here from a place of concern, and deep down you begged that your words didn’t harm him in any way, but currently, you didn’t care, you didn’t want to care, you just wanted to be numb, numb to the flashbacks of your horrid past and numb to the feelings that were dragged along with them.

“My love, please, return with me to our home, I will brew some calming tea-”

“Tea? Tea!? Does it look like I want any fucking tea?! I couldn’t care any less about some fucking tea, Zhongli!” Spinning around on your heels, you scowled at him, not bothering to hide your rushing tears “Don’t you get it!? I want to be left alone, I-”

Two gloved hands gently encased your face, your angered expression morphing into one of shock as your partner stared down at you with glowing eyes filled with a deep-rooted love, affection, worry and so much more that you couldn’t put into mere mortal words. At that moment, everything felt as if it had melted away, only you and him were in this world, nothing else, just the two of you.

And you felt as though your heart had been lifted from the pressures of this life.

“I do not think it is best for you to be left alone” His baritone voice was always so calming, so serene and in your sane moment, you finally felt its effects “I wish to stay with you, so please, let me stay”

With a whimper, you grabbed onto his forearms and leaned your face into his hands, tears continuing to fall as your eyes fluttered shut “Okay…”

“They have hurt you deeply, haven’t they?”

Hesitantly, you nodded.

“Would you be so kind as to tell me the details?”

“I-...” Sharing eye contact once again, you whispered “Can- can you just...hold me for now? Please”

Moving his hands from your face, he engulfed you in his arms, leaning his head against yours “Of course”

Childe

The Harbinger had just left the Northland Bank, hell, he was just about to make his way down the spiral staircase but when hearing the commotion, he paused, something in his gut telling him to check just before and he was glad he did.

Glancing over the elevated walkway, he felt a fiery pit roar in the depths of his stomach, eyes narrowing dangerously at the scene; you were snarling in some other person’s face, their own face nothing short of disgust and a crowd that only seemed to grow by the minute.

Who the hell did this person think they were? Did they even know who you were? To stand so close to you, with a look of threat on their face like you weren’t about to kick their arse? Like he wasn’t about to kick their arse? How did this insignificant speck of dross not know your connections with him, the 11th Harbinger? Or did he know and was just trying his luck?

“Seems like someone has a death wish” And a death wish they had indeed.

Ignoring the perplexed glance from his subordinate stationed outside the building's entrance, Childe made his way down the steps, murderous look stitched on the whole way to the circle of civilians, the mass parting ways for the man that was Tartaglia and continuing to watch the moment in silence.

“Who the hell are you-” You both turned towards him, you in shock while the stranger stared in confusion until Childe’s hand wrapped around their collar, tugging them closer to look down at them with a deep-rooted disgust “-And why the hell are you harassing my partner?”

They fought against him, obviously, they did, but the surprise came when you saddled up next to him, grabbing his arm “Stay out of this, Tartaglia”

What? It hadn't been your request, no, you were always one to finish your whole fights you weren't "A damsel in distress after all!" no, you were so much more, so much greater but that look on your face, murderous and downright cruel- he just couldn't believe his ears.

Childe stared at you in shock while the stranger struggled, throwing him a dirty look in their attempts “Yeah, this is between my sibling and I”

Childe straightened in surprise, feeling embarrassment flood his system. Had he seriously just grabbed and threatened his lover’s family member? Oh, Archons, his judgement had been clouded by anger at the look of the scene, I mean, why would your sibling look at you that way-

“But it’s really no surprise that you still need to be babied, (Name), how shameful”

His eyes widened but not a moment later had you tackled your sibling, the crowd crying out in alarm as you threw back your fist and crushed their nose under the weight of your punch. “I’ll show you fucking shameful, bastard!”

There was shouting and a glance showed the oncoming Millelith marching towards the circle.

Being Fatui always did garner the attention of the guards nowadays, especially for him, who had tried to lure out the attention of their Archon by summoning an ancient god that nearly drowned the entirety of the harbour, so it was no surprise that they seemed to hurry in the pursuit when they noticed his appearance at the scene. However, lucky for him, your reputation as a great adventurer preceded you and throughout Liyue you were seen as a trusted and well-liked individual, meaning whatever trouble you got in, containing his meddling or not, was usually waved away due to the trust of the people.

So, without another thought, Childe tugged you off of your bloodied sibling and held you close, even as you thrashed violently, shouting at him to let you go.

“What is going on here?” A guard called, slamming the hilt of his polearm into the ground as he surveyed the area, eyes landing on the sibling before following the small trail of blood to you, still fighting against your boyfriend with threats falling from your lips “Was there a reason for this brawl? Who started it?”

As your sibling raised themselves on their forearms, they scowled and opened their mouth to respond, only for Childe to put in. “It was them, sir, they were the one that started it, (Name) was merely acting in self-defence”

The Millelith scowled at him, raising a brow and once again looking you over “Is that so?”

He addressed the crowd soon after “Is this what happened?”

And as expected, they all glanced over the sibling, then to you and piped up in agreement. It paid to be a hero, it seemed, the whole harbour returning the favour of years of helping out the community.

“If that’s the case, please come with us” The sibling cried out, anger and fear laced into their voice, trying to argue for their innocence only for the guards to grab them, hauling them away to archons know where while Childe did the same with you, slowly dragging you away from the scene and back into the bank, you screaming and cursing the whole way until you had made it to his office, finally managing to push him off and storming to the opposite side of the room practically seething.

“Who the hell do you think you are, Tartaglia!?” You cried, throwing out your arms in exaggeration “I didn’t need your fucking help! And why the fuck would you pull me off them!? I had them right where I wanted them and you fucking did that! Are you a moron!?”

“You had a sibling” He breathed, watching as you began to pace, muttering in an angered state “And you didn’t tell me”

“-after all these years I finally had the chance to end their pathetic excuse of a life and you just got in my fucking way! I’d waited too long for this moment and you fucking ruined it! How dare you, how fucking dare you-”

“(Name), why didn’t you tell me you had a sibling!?” He cried, walking up to you and grabbing your wrist to stop you “I was ready to kill them right there! And why are you talking about them like this!? They’re your family aren’t they-”

“They are not my fucking family!”

The scream echoed through the room, chilling Childe to the core as you ripped your arm from his grasp, running your hands through your hair before gripping it so tightly it felt close to being ripped from your head. But you didn’t care, no, you couldn’t, you were so angry and you needed something to keep you grounded, to keep yourself from losing yourself and getting lost in those haunting past memories.

The Harbinger felt his chest squeeze painfully as the tears fell down your face, red rimming your eyes and cheeks wet as you sobbed, chest heaving from trying to breathe “Family takes care of you! Family thinks of you in the highest light possible! They love you for who you are and they love you no matter what! That bastard hurt me, made me feel worthless and they refuse to believe they could do no wrong and I hate them! They are the bane of my existence! They are not my fucking family! I hate them, I hate them, I hate them, I-”

Arms were around you instantly, Childe’s face pressed into your hair as you wept, grasping onto the lapels of his suit and shoving your face into his chest to muffle your cries.

“I’m sorry” He whispered, his own eyes shining slightly “I’m sorry, I was being insensitive. Please, don’t cry”

“No, I’m not crying, I promised myself I wouldn’t-” You hiccuped “I wouldn’t waste any more tears on them-”

Then you broke off into more wails, your boyfriend holding you close and letting you continue to cry in his arms, warm and comforting until you were finally reduced to whimpers, leaning into him heavily as the remaining adrenaline in your body began to wear thin when he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Will...will you tell me about it?”

You sniffed “Later...just hold me for now, please, Ajax...”

His arms tightened protectively “Anything for you, my love”

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact imagine #genshin impact diluc #genshin impact diluc x reader #diluc x reader #genshin impact kaeya #genshin impact kaeya x reader #kaeya x reader #genshin impact zhongli #genshin impact zhongli x reader #zhongli x reader #genshin impact childe #genshin impact childe x reader #childe x reader #genshin impact tartaglia #genshin impact tartaglia x reader #tartaglia x reader

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sukirichi · 4 years

Text

illusion

— does one dare wake up from the illusion of love?

meal order: 🥞🍷 + 20, 58 (assassin! reader, oblivious! noritoshi) + 13 (thigh riding) + love at first sight + “wait, are you flirting with me?” + “have been since the beginning, thanks for finally noticing.”

warnings: attempted murder, sexual content, character death, angst, dark themes of violence, unedited fic

note: thank you for the request! it was really challenging to write this but i’m all up for trying new things!

word count: 4k+

“Don’t think I don’t know you’re slacking.”

You glared at the dark haired man before you who was greedily sucking on a cigarette, the cloudy puffs of smoke breathed into your face. “Shut up, Toji,” you pressed your lips before waving your hand to get rid of the smoke. He was so rude, but because he was stronger and a far more skilled than you were, you wouldn’t dare fight back or complain. He knew this too; a smug smirk painting his dark, handsome features. “I’m just struggling, is all.”

“You, struggling?” his head tipped back in laughter, “Weren’t you so arrogant that you’d do anything for money?”

“And I still will. There’s just a sudden change of circumstances.”

“Such as?” he raised a brow challengingly, huge arms crossed over his equally muscular chest. Leaning over your window like that with the lights dimmed low, Toji looked absolutely threatening. You had no qualms that he’d rip your head off if given the order and enough money to do so, so you had to be careful with your words lest you wanted to die – or worse; he becomes a victim of this merciless man.

You narrowed your eyes, fists bunching up to your ripped black jeans. “A change of mind.”

“It seems like you had a change of heart too,” he noted, and you cursed inwardly. Fuck, of course he’d notice. Before you could come on the defense, Toji pushed himself away from the window with his hands shoved deep in his pockets. “But whatever. Good luck, kid. I’ll just hope that you get to kill your target before the bosses kill you first.”

“I’m not going to die. It’s not like I changed or anything.”

“Yeah, not like you’re giggling just down the hall staring at your target’s picture,” he rolled his eyes, snorting to himself. “Because that’s totally normal for us assassins, right?”

“Oh, shut up, Toji. Don’t you have better things to do than annoy me?”

“I’m never missing the opportunity to mess with ya, kid,” you held back a groan when he messed up your hair, your precious untouchable hair. “Oh, and the boss called. He said if we still don’t have the head by tonight, I’m being sent in,” your heart dropped at his words, silence coating the room. Nothing but your frantic heartbeat pulsed at the tip of your tongue as your hands grew sweaty and slippery, but Toji’s next words had you looking up at him with wide eyes. “Go and get your precious lover before I come around, kid. I’m not going to be nice just for you.”

Was it a warning? A threat? A heads-up? Fuck, nothing mattered anymore – you had to finish your mission before it was too late.

The sound of Toji slamming the door behind you finally snapped you from your dazed state. Greeting you was the sight of your dark, lifeless room – empty and gray like how you were. Before you met him. But things were different now; in your mission of bringing death and shedding blood, you came across the person who gave you life and meaning to this…this bland and pathetic excuse of a life.

If you didn’t move sooner, it would be too late.

Teeth gritted, you were quick on your feet as you swiped up your handy blade, bandages wrapping around your fists for protection before you followed Toji out, only this time, the man was already gone.

You needed to move. Now.

Noritoshi stepped inside his room with a soft sigh, eyes closed and pretty, masculine hands loosening his inner shirt. Perhaps it was because his window was still kept shut and not a sound could be heard from his room that he let his guard down, and nothing but a slight hiss fell from his lips when you lunged at him, blade pressed against his neck.

He was unable to move with one of your arms keeping his arms pinned to his own body, the other holding the blade firmly to his delicate skin. A slight trickle of blood dripped down his porcelain skin when you edged it a little harder, the shaky inhale from Noritoshi causing your mind to fall into ruin. But not now – you wouldn’t give in right now. You had a mission to finish; one you had to complete successfully like you always did.

“What are you doing?” He asked calmly, voice soothing and still so gentle even as you breathed hard on his ear. There was no trace of anger or even malice – just the usual doting kindness Noritoshi always gave just for you. You hated it; hated every single about him. “How did you get in here?”

“I need to kill you.”

“You’re still going through with that?” his fingers caressed your thigh, eliciting a soft gasp from you when Noritoshi only leaned closer to your touch, tilting his head so he could peer into your blazing eyes. “I thought we were past this already.”

You laughed at his words before sneering, “This doesn’t change anything. I will kill you somehow, Noritoshi Kamo. And when I’ve got your head in the palm of my hands, I’ll be filthy rich.”

“Then why don’t you get it over with?” he stepped closer to the blade itself, almost pushing you to the edge with his movements. “Come here and see if you’re strong enough.”

You growled threateningly when more blood trailed down and stained his shirt. Instantly, you shoved your blade away from him until it switched to one of his tied side bangs, the hair falling onto the ground with a thump. “Testing me, huh? Are you doubting my skills, Kamo?”

“Not the least bit, no,” he shook his head, refusing to move from your suffocating hold. If anything, he made himself comfortable in your arms, a lopsided smile on his annoyingly handsome features.

You’ve heard rumors that your target was popular among his people and even had countless marriage proposals already; one you didn’t believe until you met the man himself, and as if reminding you of the difficulty of the situation, you just had to be one of those women who nearly fell at his feet. But could anyone blame you? Which sane person would be able to uphold their mission when Noritoshi Kamo leaned close like that, the tip of his nose brushing yours and the warmth of his breath kissing your lips?

“I’ve heard of you – you’ve got quite the reputation,” his dark eyes trailed over your lips that were fallen open, your breathing still hard and ragged. Noritoshi hummed to himself, his tongue darting out to moisten his pink flesh. “Which is why I can’t seem to comprehend why I’m still alive. Could it be there’s something else that you want more than money?”

“Perhaps I do,” you smirked, trying to ignore the way you felt like you were the one being held captive this time. “What are you going to do about it?”

“Choose the intelligent option, of course. I’ll negotiate with you.”

“And if what I want is unattainable?”

His response came as a reflex: “Nothing is unattainable with money.”

“Always the confident one, huh, Kamo?” you scoffed with a ‘tsk’ of your tongue, “One day, I’m going to break this noble leader act of yours. Soon, you’ll fall into this same trap of hell as I have, and maybe then we’ll both be a little crazy,” at your suggestion, Noritoshi only raised a brow, tilting his head to the side as he released a soft sight. You couldn’t read his face and it irked you to no end, a grin masking your irritation as you twirled the blade around your fingers. “What’s wrong, Kamo? Cat got your tongue?”

“Hmm. You really are beautiful, you know that?”

“Huh?” you stepped back as you fell aghast, your jaw dropping while Noritoshi only smiled. Fuck that smile – he had no business being this gorgeous, and you only sneered louder when his skin began to heal. “You out of your mind, Kamo? Are you forgetting who I am?”

“The pretty assassin who’s been out to get me for months now but still hasn’t killed me for whatever odd reason?” Your face burned at the way he nonchalantly said it, but Noritoshi didn’t give you time to recover as he stepped forwards, closer, his hands brushing up against the pads of your cheek. “No, I haven’t forgotten who you are. I could never forget you – not when you’ve been chasing me and we’ve been playing this game of chase for who knows how long.”

“Careful, Kamo. What would your precious elders say if they find out you’re fraternizing with the enemy?” you chuckled at the image of Noritoshi having his ear talked down by those annoying, traditional elders, but the smile fell off your face when Noritoshi continued to stare at you. “Wait, did you just call me pretty? Like, as in, pretty pretty?”

“Yes, and now you’re blushing like crazy,” he booped your nose, firing up the bubbling anger inside you. How dare he mock you like this! Your feet planted on the ground as you prepared to lunge at him when Noritoshi stilled, his strong arms wrapping around your wrist tight enough that even you froze at how strong he was. Had he been holding back on you this whole time? Could he have really easily fought back against you but chose not to for whatever messed up reason?

Before you could get your answer, Noritoshi’s eyes slid over to yours, this time wide with worry. The smile left his face. “You should leave. They’re coming.”

You blinked back up at him helplessly, your body almost turning limp. Seeing that you weren’t moving fast enough, Noritoshi frowned, wrapping your fingers tighter around your blade before pointing to his window where you’d broken in a while ago. “You need to go. Now.”

“C-Can I see you again tonight?” you found yourself asking, legs already perched on the windowsill. You knew it was pathetic, to have trembling pouty lips when you were seconds away from making a deadly fall and yet you were more worried about him. The thought of Toji coming the moment he heard you still hadn’t killed Noritoshi made your hands and legs shake, heart clenching painfully with fear. Noritoshi may be strong, but he was nothing against Toji. “I want to see you again,” and again and again and again – for as long as you were allowed.

Though you’d never tell him that.

Not that you needed to, though, because Noritoshi could read you better than yourself, and he only smiled, never making fun of how vulnerable and horrible you were at keeping your feelings a secret. You were too easy to read sometimes, or maybe he just had a skill of knowing everything that ran in your mind.

“Would it stop you if I said no?”

“Of course not,” you frowned, then looked out the setting sun that held an ominous vibe to it now. Eyes closed and a sad heart begging to be closer to him, you buried it all deep within, turning to Noritoshi with an aching smile. “Live your life to the fullest, Kamo. This might just be your last day.”

Noritoshi chuckled softly to himself. “I’ll keep the windows open, then.”

It was way past midnight, and neither you nor Toji came around. He’d already heard that someone else was sent for him due to his precious little lover falling in love with him at first sight that caused her to fail her mission, and Noritoshi paced around his room, arms folded on his chest as he thought of the different ways they could’ve executed you already.

He hadn’t known you for a long enough time to know everything about you. It didn’t help that you weren’t the most open either, refusing to tell him more about your life and the people you worked for whenever he asked.

Noritoshi understood your discomfort when it came to sensitive topics like that.

It wasn’t easy, after all, to talk about the countless people whose lives you’d taken for money prior to meeting him. Noritoshi was well-aware he was another name on your hit list that could be crossed out had it been under different circumstances; circumstances such as him easily defeating you on the first day you met him before he had you pinned to the ground, both your bodies panting heavily.

One thing led to another, and Noritoshi grew an obsession with you.

It was fucked up, to say the least – that he actually looked forward to having you jump on him out of nowhere, bringing different weapons and techniques for various ways to kill him this time.

There was one time you both went out on a date, glasses covering your eyes and hats pulled over so no one would recognize any of you walking into the dark movie theatre. None of you could pay attention to the movie when you placed yourself in his lap, and suddenly he felt so thankful he bought the whole theatre for himself because he sure as hell couldn’t keep his voice down while you rode his dick like he was just a mere plaything.

Your hands then travelled around his neck as you pulled him in for a searing kiss. Second by second, his vision grew faint with his head dizzy, the air being knocked out of him as you crushed his windpipe with increasing pressure.

He wasn’t surprised that you would try to kill him while cumming around his cock – you were the most painful pleasure that could kill him, literally – and he had to push you off so hard your head hit the ground until you were knocked out.

Noritoshi had lost count of the times you tried to kill him, purely because you always tried to seduce him one way or another.

He believed it was one of your strategies into luring your prey right into your trap, which he fell for every single time. The rational part of himself (which wasn’t that much when it came to you to begin with) told him to increase his security, to always be prepared and have some sort of weapon or blood readied out to defend himself, but him being him, he always kept the window unlocked.

Noritoshi was reminded of his mistakes when his back was harshly kicked, his arm painfully bent and pressed to his lower back while your knee planted itself onto his spine, your sweet laughter bouncing from his ears. “Wasn’t expecting me, Kamo?” you teased, twisting his arm hard enough that he winced at the pain. “I thought you’d be ready.”

“I’m never ready for you, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Even in his slightly limped state, Noritoshi managed a smile. “Why? Does it make you want to kill me less?”

“Oh, you’re vermin, Kamo. My blood boils every time I see you!”

Perhaps you weren’t any better than him. You let your guard down too easily when it came to your emotions flaring up, and before you knew it, Noritoshi had pushed himself off the ground and flipped you under him, knee planted between your legs and your arms pinned to your side.

Your blade fell with a pathetic clang on the floor.

You struggled against his hold despite the comfort of having him above you like this, his gorgeous muscles displayed through his poor excuse of a shirt. Noritoshi only slammed your arms harder on the ground to keep you immobile, his words gentle and too sweet in comparison to his roughness.

He leaned closer, eyes filled with adoration and lust staring down at you. You thought he would kiss you when his lips suddenly turned the other way, his tongue prodding on the lobe of your ear that had you gasping underneath him.

The sound of your breathy whines had his blood shooting straight up onto his cock, pressing his now hardening erection against your heated core that he’d had the privilege of fucking and eating countless of times before – though he’d never get tired of it; he would never get tired of you.

“Then why do you keep coming back?”

“What else, idiot?”

Your irritated response had him pulling him back, his brows furrowed as he loosened his hold on you. Just like that, Noritoshi let go of you, his back hitting his bed frame as he frowned, pointing to himself in disbelief. “Wait, are you flirting me?”

That earned him a roll of your eyes in response. You pushed yourself up from the floor and glared at him, massaging the bruises that would form into your skin soon. “Have been since the beginning, thanks for finally noticing.”

“I thought getting me to bed was one of your ways to kill me,” he scratched his head, and he really shouldn’t be looking that cute. “I don’t know whether to be afraid or flattered—”

Noritoshi wouldn’t stop rambling on and on about how this whole time, he had no idea you liked him back and he’d endlessly chastised himself for falling for an assassin. Quite frankly, you had too much of his endless babbling that you pushed him until he fell on the bed, not wasting any time before you planted yourself on his lap and sitting on it like a throne.

“Shut up and kiss me, Kamo.”

When you grinded on his erection, Noritoshi lost it. He no longer had control of himself before he kissed you madly, his hands bunching your shirt up and helping you fling it to the side. Pupils blown wide as if he’d never seen you bare before, Noritoshi pushed the cups of your bra above your breasts, his lips latching onto a perky nipple while his other hand tweaked it between his fingers.

Your head fell back in pleasure as you let him ravage you, soft little gasps leaving your lips while you rode his thigh.

Noritoshi groaned into your breasts at the sight of you eagerly fucking yourself on his thigh, moaning louder when he clenched and you bounced you above his muscle.

“If I’d known you’d look this beautiful riding me like this,” his mouth left your lips before he settled onto your neck instead, nipping and tugging at the skin until he was sure he’d have you marked black and blue. “I would’ve opened my windows long ago,” he cupped your breasts, his cock twitching in his pants as you rubbed your clit all over his pants, mewling when one of his fingers rubbed at your clothed folds. “Do you think it’s fate?”

You laughed through the drunken state of pleasure, “You’re asking me if it’s fate that I’m sent to kill you but I’m fucking you here instead?”

“That’s one way to word it.”

“I don’t know, I don’t care,” your head fell on his shoulders as you clenched around nothing. Noritoshi took it upon himself to tug your panties to the side, his cock only hardening further because you wore a skirt for him tonight, almost as if you were expecting to be fucked senseless by his dick.

Well, if that was your wish, then who was he to deny you?

The feeling of you sliding down his length had you both moaning and groaning, the stretch of him feeling you up to the brim too magnificent to describe. Noritoshi pulled you closer until your tits were right at his face, free for him to kiss and worship. You whimpered when Noritoshi’s large hands cupped your ass to bring you upwards, your moan shattered and shaky as he let gravity drop you down his thick length, the pattern of you bouncing onto him sending heat all over your body.

“One thing’s for sure,” you managed through gritted teeth, “It’s definitely an unfortunate curse that I can’t kill you because I’m so in love with you.”

Noritoshi stopped with his movements, letting you rest at the base of his cock instead while you caught your breaths. Your eyes were closed, fingers clenching tight at the material of his shirt. Noritoshi didn’t need for you to tell him more to understand that you were risking a lot more than he was for falling with one another, because you’ve failed your mission, and a failed mission always guaranteed a most painful death.

“Hey,” Noritoshi tapped your cheek, “Hey, look at me,” he grabbed your chin to force you to look at him, and his gaze softened when tears shone into those pretty eyes of yours. You’ve never let him see you cry before, but you couldn’t help it, teeth sinking into your lip to stop the tears from flowing while Noritoshi’s strong arms wrapped around you comfortingly. “I’ll protect you, okay?”

“You say that as if I can’t look after myself.”

“I know you can. You did just nearly break my arm, so I’m not worried,” you both laughed, and he smiled wider upon seeing that you’ve livened up a little bit. That was all he wanted to see – to see you smile. “But I mean it. I’ll protect you – take care of you. You can abandon your old life and just live with me.”

“But I’m a regular, boring human. You’re about to be head of the Kamo Clan – what could I possibly offer?”

“Everything and nothing, but know that I’m not asking or expecting anything from you,” his thumbs were gentle as he cupped your cheek, “Just stay here. With me. We’ll work it out.”

You fell silent, unable to process the gravity of his words. The more you thought about it, the more it enticed you. No more killing, no more crying yourself to sleep or trying to hold back a scream as you washed the blood off your body, no more images of the people you’ve killed haunting you everywhere you went. Instead, you could live a happy life with Noritoshi. He was powerful and influential – he could easily give you a life.

But it wouldn’t be a life if you failed your mission.

You knew that much – no one escaped from the higher-ups and no one got out unless they were killed, either during their mission or by defecting. Not even Noritoshi could protect you from that, but he gazed up at you so hopefully, so lovingly that you wanted to bask in this glow and illusion of happiness a little longer.

So you smiled, rubbing your nose against his that had you both giggling like lovesick teens. “You’re so cheesy it’s disgusting, Kamo. I really regret not killing you now.”

“You wound me,” he placed a hand over his chest before pinching his cheeks, “But I suppose it’s only fair – you quite kill me with your cuteness too.”

“Ugh, shut up.”

For now, while you could still have him the way you wanted him, while he was still safe, you allowed yourself to drown in pleasure. Limbs tangled with one another and names breathily spoken while he marked you as his own, his seed painting your womb that you eventually lost count of.

This was love – the illusion of it, at least.

You stared at Noritoshi as he slept soundly beside you, his hair splattered everywhere. He was too exhausted to notice you slowly slipping off the bed, wiping the mixture of both your cum away with a towel before tugging your clothes back on. Glancing one last time at his still sleeping form, you lifted up a tile just under his study, pulling out the heavy and deadly weapons you’d planted long ago just in case.

Your heart dropped in your chest when the door suddenly opened. No creaking sound indicated that it did, but the slight gush of wind entering the room made the hairs on your arm prickle up.

On instinct, you wrapped a hand around your special gun and aimed it at the person smirking down at you. His eyes travelled from Noritoshi safely tucked under the blankets to your defensive pose just before him, the safety of the gun flipped open. This time, your hands no longer shook, and your eyes were hard and determined as you matched the dark look on his face.

“Step away, kid. You don’t want things to get messy.”

“I won’t let you hurt him, Toji,” Toji was surprised when you suddenly dropped your gun on the bed, palms raised beside your head in surrender. “I, Y/N, member of the Dark Shadows organization therefore surrender my title and submits to the punishment I must receive. As a last wish from a lifelong loyal member of your organization, I humbly ask that you respect my wish to keep Noritoshi Kamo safe from your missions. Forever.”

You could never live a happy life with Noritoshi, but there was still a way you could keep him safe; one that came with the price of your death.

The Dark Shadows was a shady organization with nameless and faceless leaders, the members like you and Toji blindly following orders from a “messenger.” You were born into this organization with a random name given to you as an assassin title. You always hated it, but you also didn’t know what life without being an assassin was like, so you followed them until the end. It just never occurred to you that you would use your last wish this way, for everyone always had a dying wish that the organization had to follow.

Toji’s eyes darkened; clearly, he believed you were doing a mistake. But the more you thought of Noritoshi’s smile, his laughter, his future – it was all worth it.

“I, Fushiguro Toji, a witness of your death, hereby respect your last wish.”

The sound of desperate crying – the first time you’ve cried ever since you were born – stirred Noritoshi awake from his slumber, but before he could catch your falling body, a gunshot had already fired in the air.

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pvnkfaerie · 3 years

Text

But You Didn't

Finn Balor / Fem!Reader

Warnings; Smut. Angst. Happy endings. Good Shit.

You couldn’t breathe. You didn’t want to have this dream anymore, you didn’t want to remember.

“Why can’t ya ever just say it,” he spoke, his words filled with malice. “I can’t deal with this forever, ya know that?” It was the same fight. The same fight you had nearly every night since he had told you. Tonight, it started when Bayley, bless her soul, brought up why we weren’t living together yet. You simply said you weren’t at that point in your relationship yet.

Those three words, three words that ruined every little piece of happiness you had. You wanted to love him, you really did.

But you couldn’t let yourself be hurt again. You couldn’t let yourself be vulnerable with someone. You had been hurt enough by your own father, a flurry of step-fathers, and a few ex-boyfriends here and there.

“Finn, I’m tired,” you spoke, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. You loved him. You did. But you just couldn’t take getting hurt. “Can we please, please, just take a break from this tonight?” You mumbled out, standing from your spot on the couch to go to your shared bedroom. His hand reached out, gripping onto your wrist.

“I can’t keep waitin’ for ya to one day, maybe, fall in love with me,” his voice started to crack. You could see the look in his eyes, the way the sides of his lips twitched, his eyebrows furrowed with despair. He didn’t deserve this. He deserved someone who loved him.

“Then leave,” you whispered, pulling your hand away. His eyes bore into yours, looking, waiting for you to take it back.

The next few minutes were a flurry of silence and him grabbing his things, staring down at the shirt you had on your body, his shirt, before grabbing his keys. He stood at the opened door, waiting for you to stop him.

But you didn’t.

You shook yourself awake, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. Normally you were alone, normally you were allowed to cry yourself back to sleep. You couldn’t exactly do this on a plane. The oversized plane had already begun its descent. You looked around you, eyes landing on Finn. Your heart clenched before forcing yourself to look away.

Since the breakup, you had avoided him like the plague. Which was very hard to do considering you worked for the same company. You leaned your head back against the seat, closing your eyes, reminding yourself that he didn’t want someone who couldn’t just say they loved him. But you do. Your eyes shot open, ignoring the thought.

You shifted your feet, as you watched the baggage carousel go around for a second time. You huffed, patience wearing thin. You heard a chuckle behind you, your body immediately tensing up at the sound.

“Still as impatient as ever,” you missed the sound of his voice. It echoed in your ears, your eyes avoiding contact. You threw a quick ‘mhm,’ his way, your eyes straining for anything that looked like your bag. He huffed out a nervous chuckle. “How’ve ya been?”

“Good,” your voice cracked, this being the first time the both of you had talked in a year. You could feel the few pieces of your heart shatter, his mere presence feeling like home. You told him to leave. You cringed as the thoughts came exploding from every direction. “How about yourself,” this time quieter, as to hide the obvious break in your voice. Your eyes wandered his way, immediate regret filling you as you got a glimpse of his face up close.

God, he was beautiful.

He scratched at the back of his head nervously, ducking his head a bit, before looking back over towards you. “Been doin’ okay. Survivin’,” Every nerve in your body was screaming for you to just be honest, stop being stubborn. You weren’t okay, you weren’t happy without him. Your eyes focused on the familiar black bag making its way around. Finn went with you as you went to grab it, an almost identical black bag next to yours. You could feel the tears threatening to fall, retrieving the bag quickly before almost running away. He called your name once or twice, pleading with you to turn around and just look at him.

But you didn’t.

You threw yourself onto the hotel bed, hands gripping at your hair as you held back a wail. You weren’t sure if you could survive another day of this, another day of seeing him. You wiped angrily at your tears, before standing and moving to your suitcase. Whenever you had gotten like this, you put on the shirt he had left you in, though the scent that lulled you was no longer present.

Your eyes widened as you opened the bag. Your breath stopped. This isn’t mine. This isn’t my bag. More tears fell freely as you sat against the foot of the bed, refusing to even look in front of you. It was a final breaking point, biting back open sobs. You didn’t care about your clothes, any of that. His shirt was gone. Along with the pictures you had kept hidden, the best year of your life, gone in an instant all over again.

Your knees curled up into your chest, before leaning your forehead against them, as you tried desperately to catch your breath.

I sighed, annoyed with myself for letting her get away before I could just talk to her. You’re the one that walked away, ya knew she had been burned in the past why couldn’t ya just let it go? I groaned, wanting nothing more than to just go to bed. I ripped open my suitcase, surprised at the contents.

I dug through the bag, hoping to figure out the true owner and switch them out quickly. In one of the pockets was a worn envelope. I pulled it out gently, my heart stopping as I looked at my name, written in her handwriting.

I practically ripped the envelope open, pictures falling out as I did. My hands were shaking at this point, as I plucked one of the pictures from the floor. My palms grew sweaty as I picked pictures up one after the other, each having a small message scribbled on the back. One picture remained on the floor, I let out a shaky breath before picking it up.

It was a shitty polaroid I had taken. She had been sleeping, and god, she had looked like an angel. I had wanted it to just be her, but the grip she had on me, I was forced to be in it with her. It was the moment I had realized I loved her. It had been another day on the road, another hotel room bed, a few more days before we had a week off. Her presence made it better, made it worth not only the good days but also the draining ones. I remember writing ‘home is where the heart is,’ chuckling a bit as I saw it scribbled on the bottom. I flipped it over, expecting there to be another message like the others, something she had missed about me. My heart dropped as I looked it over.

Home.

My breath hitched in my throat, my eyes floating over the words again and again and again.

Your phone buzzed next to you. You released the hold of your knees carefully, before seeing a message from Bayley.

What room are you in?

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, before you texted back a quick, ‘207, gimme a few before you come up.’ You waited a few seconds without a response, before throwing your phone onto the bed, standing up to look over yourself in the bathroom. You groaned, pulling on your cheek a bit, your eyes now red and puffy. You splashed some cool water on your face, before grabbing your makeup bag, applying a bit of makeup to cover the fact you had been upset. You sighed in defeat, the sound of knocking filling your ears. You moved towards the door, pulling it open with a smile.

One that quickly faded as you saw Finn standing there.

“I think we switched bags,” your eyes flickered towards his hands, seeing the familiar black bag. You threw him a small smile, before falling back into your room in order to get his. He followed after, closing the door behind himself. You were doing a good job of keeping it together, zipping the bag back up, before handing it to him.

His fingers grazed your hand gently, before both bags were dropped, his hand pulling on your wrist. Your eyes focused on the hand holding your wrist, eyes widening. You made no attempt to pull away, but you refused to look up at him, knowing the dam would break the second you did.

“Please just look at me,” you could hear his voice breaking, slowly meeting his eyes, his grip tightening as you did.

“Finn, let go,” it came out as a half-hearted whisper. He shook his head a bit, fingers moving to catch any tears managing to escape you. Nudging his hand away slightly, you went to look away, a gentle hand edging you back.

“Listen to me,” he spoke, refusing to break eye contact. “You’re it for me,” while his voice was quiet, it was firm. “Ya are the one I’m going ta marry, ya are the one I’m gonna start a family wit, ya are the one and the only one.” Your heart was beating a mile a minute, as his eyes flickered to his pocket, pulling out a picture. Your eyes widened at the sight of it, before going back to look at his face. “Ya are it for me, princess, you’re my home,” he began tracing gentle circles into your wrist, waiting for you to pull away. “I know ya scared. I’m scared too, I don’t need ya to say it, I can wait forever if I have t-”

“I love you,” you whispered, worried your voice would give out at any second. Every voice in your head that had been screaming at you suddenly vanished. He stared at you, processing what you had just said before his lips were pressing against yours. It was hard to breathe as he pulled back, forehead pressing against yours as you whispered out a small apology, whispered kisses of acceptance shushing your tears.

“I’m sorry for leavin’ ya,” he whispered, placing a small kiss against your lips before you could interrupt him. “Ya weren’t ready, I shouldn’t have gotten mad at ya for not bein’ ready. I was the arse,” You let out a small laugh, lips finding him again. God, you missed this. You missed him. Your body immediately reacted to his touch, arching into his form.

“Finn,” you begged in between kisses, watching the way his eyes darkened as you continued. “Make love to me,” heat ran to your core as you spoke, that being the first time you had ever called it that. Lovemaking. He groaned against your lips, before backing the both of you towards the bed. A deep blush passed over your cheeks when all the urgency from earlier kisses stopped. He tugged his shirt over his head, before slowly bringing yours off.

After you had tugged your own pants off, he stared in awe. His breath hitched in his throat as he slowly pulled you closer to him, rubbing his hands slowly up the small of your back. Slow, shaky kisses were placed on your collarbone, as he whispered small ‘I missed you’s,’ into your skin. Your fingers traced down the back of his neck gently, taking in the feel of his lips against your flesh.

You gently pulled his hair, forcing his head back to your lips. A whimper escaped your throat as his hand snaked its way into your panties, rubbing small circles into your clit. His name bounced off your lips as he snuck a finger into your heat, relishing in the sounds of your quiet noises. He groaned against your lips as he sunk another finger in, your pussy already clenching down on his fingers from the lack of attention it had gotten in the past year.

“Don’t ya cum yet princess,” he muttered against the small of your neck, placing small, loving kisses on the now reddened skin. “Gonna cum with me like a good girl, aren’t ya,” another whimper as you held your ground, refusing to let the bubble already forming burst. You nodded your head quickly, biting down on your lip when he pulled his fingers from you. A deep groan left his throat as he sucked on his fingers, missing the way you tasted.

His hands pulled your panties down slowly as you worked on removing your bra. His lips immediately latched onto your breasts as you revealed them. He pushed himself up as he removed your panties, sucking in a deep breath as you lay nude in front of him, quickly stripping himself of his boxers, looking at you for approval. A small nod was the only answer he needed, as he pushed himself into your heat, groaning at the way your pussy wrapped around his cock.

Your fingers dug into his biceps, adoring the way he filled you. Your eyes snapped shut, as he stretched your walls. Your name tumbled off his lips as he commanded you gently to look at him. You opened your eyes, the second they were fully open, his hips bucked into yours, a surprised moan leaping past your lips as he started his thrusts, slow yet deep.

“Still take m’cock so well,” he groaned out, a bead of sweat forming on his head as he tried to control his thrusts, wanting to stay in this moment for the rest of his days. You whimpered out a small, ‘no one else,’ before your words turned into noise, and begged for him to go faster. “Yeah? No one else could touch ya like this,” he huffed out, a small smile forming on his lips as you began to unravel under him. “I love ya,” he spoke out, a small breath passing his lips as his eyes bore into yours.

“I love you,” you spoke back, your head falling back into the pillows as his hips began to thrust into yours at a faster pace. A deep groan echoed against the walls before his lips found yours again in a sloppy, heated kiss. Small commands of ‘say it again,’ were pushed against your teeth as your tongues clashed together. “Finn,” you moaned out as his kisses drifted against your throat. “I love you,” you felt him smile against your throat, small nibbles being placed there.

His thrusts grew erratic, the bubble that had long been forming ready to pop at any moment, any moment he commanded. Hot kisses were peppered onto your chest. “Now,” it came out as a grunt, your nerves tingling as you did as told, finally letting go, his name ripping itself from your throat. Strings of cum filled you, his hips stuttering as you clenched around him.

He pulled out slowly, almost instantly taking you in his arms as he lay beside you. His pressed kisses onto your forehead, cheeks, nose, every piece of flesh he could reach without you moving away from him. His lips finally found yours, love being poured into it. His forehead rested against yours, the kiss slowing down. His fingers traced your face slowly, tucking a piece of loose hair behind your ear.

“‘m sorry for leavin’ ya,” his voice was filled with grief as he spoke, fingers trembling against your skin. You leaned into his touch, placing a gentle kiss on his palm. You shook your head, reminding him it wasn’t his fault. Your legs tangled with his, a small yawn leaving your lips as you rested your head against his chest, placing a gentle kiss in the skin covering where his heart was.

Your eyes drooped shut as his fingers traced gentle shapes into your hips, a small ‘I love you,’ tumbling from your lips before sleep finally overtook you.

A light hum bubbled in your throat as you turned the beater, mixing the few ingredients together. You pulled the cake from the oven, placing it on the counter to let it cool as you finished putting together the frosting.

“Should it be a blue cake? Or red?” You spoke aloud, wanting an opinion. You smiled as you felt arms snake around your waist, a gentle kiss being placed on the side of your exposed neck.

“Why not a yellow cake,” he muttered against your neck, resting his head against your shoulder. You scoffed out, turning in his arms, beater still in hand.

“We can’t have a cake the same color as the house,” you muttered, kissing the tip of his nose lovingly. “Too much yellow,” you dabbed his nose gently with the beater, a trail of frosting being left behind.

“I like our yellow house,” he smirked, reaching a finger down to the bowl, before wiping it on your cheek. You giggled out, now taking a handful, before smearing it across his face, moving to run, before his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you back into him as he placed playful kisses on your face, frosting smearing against you. You giggled against his lips, as he picked your body up, placing you on the counter. His lips moved against yours in a heated kiss, your frosting-covered hands tangling in his hair. You groaned as you felt his hands on your chest, before he moved his head down, licking the frosting from your now exposed chest.

“Finn, people are going to be here in an hour,” you whimpered, as he moved his hips against yours. He chuckled into your breasts, before whisking you away, towards the bedroom.

“Better get ya cleaned up, ay?” He chuckled, shutting the door with his foot. Your laughs filled the air, mixed with his deep chuckles, cleaning yourself off, before sneaking back to the kitchen, leaving a breathless Finn behind. Every day was a blessing to him, always worried when the commitment would become too much and you would leave.

But you didn’t.

#finn balor smut #wrestling smut

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homoose · 3 years

Text

Love Has a Learning Curve: Part VII (x reader)

Summary: Reader tries to make things right, with a little push from her mama.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: hurt/comfort

Warnings/Includes: none

a/n: I know, I know— please just let our babies be happy ♥️ and so it was. Also, big ups to my tumblr gf @idmakeitbehave for being my beta the past two chapters.

Series Masterlist

———

One week.

That’s how long it had been since their argument. Spencer had driven back to his apartment in silence, absolutely stunned by the way things had blown up.

They’d gotten back from the case in Utah on the fifth of January, and he’d driven straight to Y/N’s, ready to give her a belated New Year’s kiss. Immediately upon entering her apartment, he knew something was wrong. Her hug was stiff, her kiss brief, her eye contact minimal. He’d spent the night, but they barely touched, and she left early for work without waking him. He’d let himself out and texted her later in the day to invite her over for dinner.

Dinner hadn’t been any less awkward, and when he felt awkward, he knew it was bad. He finally couldn’t ignore it any longer, and he’d called it out. He had expected some resistance, but he hadn’t expected that. Y/N never spoke to him with any malice at all, even when he was actually doing something that irritated her. She was the queen of healthy communication. So for her to speak to him like that meant that the underlying issue was much, much worse than he’d originally thought.

He’d gone over their conversations a thousand times, looking desperately for the moment that it went wrong. After some deep consideration, he was certain that something had happened on New Year’s Eve. He just wasn’t sure what. Y/N was insistent that she wasn’t bothered by the declined call, but he still wished he could go back in time and answer it. He was pretty sure the seeds of their argument had sprouted in that moment, regardless of what she said.

Spencer knew she was a creature of habit, and that sometimes she needed space to process and experience her emotions. And if he was being honest, he needed some space after the argument, too. But usually she would have at least texted him by now.

He sighed and set down his newspaper, realizing he’d read the same page four times and hadn’t retained any of it. It was Friday, and he knew she was working. But still his fingers itched to dial her number. He picked up the phone, pressing a key to light up the screen yet again.

No new messages.

He dropped the phone back to the table with a little more force than was necessary. He decided he’d give her the rest of the weekend. If he didn’t hear from her by Sunday, he’d have to do something.

…

Y/N dropped her bag on the floor inside the door and turned to lock the deadbolt. She had managed to sneak out of the building without being stopped by Anita, and she thanked the universe for small miracles.

She didn’t want to have to explain herself. She didn’t want anyone to know what an absolute troll she’d been. Considering that Sam and Spencer had practically become attached at the hip since they’d started hanging out more, Anita was bound to ask about him.

She showered and ordered Thai food, snuggling down on the couch to watch a movie with Roald. She settled on Dumplin’— a favorite for the body positivity, the southern drawls, and the Dolly Parton drag.

And then she came to the argument outside of Harpy’s and lost what little emotional stability she had left.

“Never took you for the type that cares much what people think.”

“I can’t, Bo. And that might make me a coward, but—”

“It does. Willowdean Dixon, I think you’re beautiful. To hell with anyone who’s ever made you feel less than that.”

She didn’t realize she was crying until Roald meowed in distress. She choked out a sob and stroked over his ears, closing her eyes in defeat. “I really fucked this up, huh?”

It had only been one week, but it felt like years since Spencer walked out of her apartment. She’d stayed in bed for the entire weekend, crying on and off. She knew she had no one to blame but herself. Owen had knocked over the first domino, but she’d done nothing to stop the rest from falling.

Spencer had done everything right. He’d done everything she asked, and she’d thrown it all back in his face. He had made the comparison to Mitchell Park, and he was absolutely right. She’d done the exact same thing, only she had almost a year’s worth of ammunition, and she cut a hell of a lot deeper.

Roald nuzzled against her, but she nudged him away— she didn’t even deserve the comfort. Instead, she fumbled in the couch cushions for her phone, swiping open the screen and tapping her favorites list, thumb hovering over Spencer’s name. Then she tapped on the name right above it and blew out a breath.

The line connected and rang three times before she picked up. “Hey, sugar! Your ears must be ringin’, ‘cause I was just thinkin’ about callin’ you.”

“Hey, mama,” Y/N breathed.

Her mother’s tone changed from chipper to concerned in an instant. “What’s wrong, baby?”

She leaned forward to the coffee table to grab Spencer’s scarf— somehow left behind in her apartment— rubbing it between her fingers. “I— I really messed up.”

“Oh, Lord. You need bail money?”

Despite herself, Y/N laughed wetly. “Oh my god , mama. No, I don’t need bail money.”

“Well, if you made bail it can’t be that bad,” Rose insisted.

“I didn’t— I’m not in jail, for Christ’s sake.” Y/N ran a hand over her face. “I messed things up with Spencer.”

“Well, we can fix that,” Rose responded matter of factly. “What happened?”

“We were fighting, and I said some really, really awful things,” Y/N admitted, tears spilling over her lash line.

Rose scoffed. “Honey, I say awful things to your father all the time, and we’ve been married almost 40 years.”

Y/N heaved a long sigh. “Not like this, mama.”

Her mother hummed in consideration. “Well, what were y’all fightin’ about?”

“It’s complicated,” Y/N hedged, toying with the fringe of the scarf.

Rose clicked her tongue. “Do ya want my help or not?”

Y/N dropped her head back against the couch. “I ran into Owen on New Year’s Eve—”

“Well, I hope you told him to stick it where the sun don’t shine,” Rose practically growled.

Y/N closed her eyes as the tears tracked hot down her cheeks. “I didn’t. I— I let him get under my skin, and then I didn’t want to tell Spencer about it because it’s embarrassing, but he knew something was wrong, and he wouldn’t stop asking about it.” She had to pause and suck in a hiccuping breath, releasing it on a sob. “So I yelled at him and said all kinds of terrible things, and then he left, and now I think maybe we broke up, and I’ve literally never been so sad in my whole life.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the phone, and then she heard Rose sniffling. “Really shoulda had your brothers knock the mess out of that son of bitch when we had the chance. He's been gone five years, and he’s still hurtin’ you every chance he gets.”

Y/N swiped uselessly at the tear tracks on her cheeks, sniffling pathetically. “And now I hurt the person who’s spent the last year singlehandedly undoing all of his awful handiwork.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Rose cooed. Y/N could hear the creak of the floorboards as her mother walked through her childhood home. “You said he knew somethin’ was wrong, right? I can almost guarantee that he’s still just wonderin’ what’s goin’ on. I know he’s supposed to be a genius, but he’s still a man. And men are dumb, sugar. You gotta spell it out for ‘em. Have you talked to him since?”

“No.” Fresh tears spilled over Y/N’s lashes as the thoughts that had kept her from calling him spilled out of her mouth. “What if it was too far? What if I ruined everything? What if he never wants to speak to me again?”

Ross heaved out a long breath. “That’s a lot of what ifs, Y/N.”

“What if I’m right?” she whispered.

“And what if you’re not?” Rose countered. “That boy loves you. Anyone could see that, clear as day. He’d do just about anything for you.” Rose paused, and Y/N heard the springs of the bed squeak as she sat. “But you gotta let him, sweetheart. Right now you’re takin’ away his chance to do that. You’re makin’ the decision for him.”

Y/N listened as her mother’s advice crackled over the line, and for the first time in a week, she felt a tiny sliver of hope.

“If he doesn’t want to be with you anymore, you need to let him tell you that. Don’t settle for a what if. Find out for sure, or you're gonna spend the rest of your life worryin’ and wonderin’, sugar.”

…

That evening found Spencer in his usual spot on the couch, reclined against the arm with a book in hand. He’d promised himself he’d give Y/N the weekend to herself— that he’d let her come to him. That didn’t stop him from checking his phone obsessively; it never buzzed with any new calls or messages, but he still looked every seven minutes.

The sound of the buzzer jolted his body to attention. He checked his watch and drew his brows together before closing his book and scrambling to cross to the intercom, a tiny seed of hope beginning to germinate. He pressed the button to talk, calling, “Yes?” into the speaker box and then listening for the response.

“Hi.”

Her voice was so quiet that he could barely hear it over the crackle of the speaker. He buzzed her in without hesitation, crossing to the door and opening it immediately. She made her way slowly up the stairs, turning at the top of the landing and pausing.

His heart broke at the sight of her. She looked utterly exhausted, dressed in black sweatpants and a soft purple sweater, a black puffer jacket over top. She was holding his scarf, wringing it in between her hands. Her eyes were ringed red, and the bags under them were worse than his.

He watched as she crossed the landing, coming to stand quietly in front of him. He’d known something was wrong, but the way she looked now made him wonder just how long she’d been battling whatever private demons she wouldn’t let him in on.

“I, um.” She cleared her throat, and it was clear she’d been crying from the thickness of her voice. “I have a lot to say— again. But since I was such an asshole, I wanted to give you the opportunity to say anything you need to say first.”

He’d imagined this conversation countless times over the last week, and never once had he thought it would start like this. “Um. Well. You— you really hurt me.”

She could barely look at him. “I know.”

He swallowed. “Please don’t do that again.”

She shook her head, finally meeting his eyes. “I won’t. I won’t ever again.”

Spencer tucked his hands into the pockets of his lounge pants. “I know I may not be the best at social cues, but I’m a pretty good profiler. And I can tell when something’s wrong.” He raised his eyebrows. “You don’t have to tell me everything. I’m just asking you to tell me when I do something that makes you upset.”

“You— you didn’t do anything wrong. I—” He watched her squeeze her eyes shut. “God, I’m so sorry, Spencer. I’m just— I’m sorry for so many things. For lying about being fine, for being up on my high horse about communicating and then not actually doing it, for being an absolute bitch.”

He wanted to argue— she wasn’t a bitch— but he could tell she was far from done.

“I— I thought therapy was supposed to teach me how to talk about things, but this still feels… impossible to say out loud,” she admitted, fingers fumbling with the fabric of the scarf. “It’s embarrassing and ridiculous. But I— I have deep-seated insecurities. That I’m not really that smart or interesting or particularly special.”

He thought back to that night in Mitchell Park and felt the guilt all over again. He’d practically said those exact words to her— it was no wonder she was feeling this way.

“And every person that I’ve ever been with has— really reinforced those ideas, so for a long time they were just… a set part of my self-image,” she explained, dragging a hand over her messy hair. “I thought— I thought that I was over it, but I— I don’t know. Maybe you never really are.”

His brain sorted through every moment of their year together, pinging off the countless examples of her self-doubt and insecurity. She was easily the most wonderful person he knew, but he could clearly see the cracks in the facade if he looked close enough. How had he missed it for so long?

“And then I met you, and you…” Y/N let out a wry laugh. “You’re easily the most interesting person I’ve ever met, but you made me feel like… I don’t know, like I’m interesting, too. Like I’m worthy of being with you, like I’m— like I’m good enough.”

He felt his heart splintering into a thousand tiny shards— good enough?

“But I can’t— I still have a hard time believing it sometimes. And I— I’ve been letting myself keep you at arms length. Letting you see parts of me, but… never giving you everything,” she admitted.

He watched her struggle to get the words out, her voice thick with the act of holding back sobs. He hadn’t realized she was carrying all of this. She was so good at supporting him and loving him through all of his trauma and issues, he hadn’t stopped to consider just how much she needed him, too.

She continued, “It’s why I took so long to say I love you… why I couldn’t talk to you last week. Because I just—” She shrugged as the tears rolled down her cheeks. “I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. For you to realize that I’m really nothing special. That you’re getting bored, or there’s someone who’s a better fit for you, or one million other things. That I’m needy, and annoying, and too much work.”

A fresh tear tracked down her cheek, and he felt his own eyes filling. She never failed to put a stop to his own insecurities— reminding him that she liked his rambling, that he wasn’t irritating, that he was just the right amount. In his eyes, she was perfect. He would have never guessed she felt this way about herself.

She continued, “That’s what happened before, and none of those guys were even half as wonderful as you are.” She swiped a hand haphazardly over her cheeks, looking at him sheepishly. “And then I was hurtful and awful, and I realized that I was just creating a self fulfilling prophecy and I don’t— I don’t want to do that.”

Her hand shook a little as she brought it back down to twist in his scarf. “Because it’s never— I’ve never felt like this. I've never been this happy with anyone else, and I don’t want to give that up. I don’t want to give you up. Even if sometimes I feel like I’ll never be enough.”

Her voice cracked on a stifled cry, and his chest physically ached. “And if you never want to see me again, I completely understand, and I’ll leave you alone, but I— I’m just so sorry. And I love you so much, and I’m trying so hard to be better.” She sucked in a ragged breath and let it out on an exhausted sigh. “And that’s, um— that’s it. If you want me to go, I—”

“I don’t want you to go,” he interrupted.

Her eyes went wide. “You don’t?”

“Of course not.” Spencer stepped forward and reached for her. “Of course not. C’mere.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, she was tumbling into his arms with a choked off sob. He pulled her inside and closed the door behind them, walking her to the couch and sitting them both down. She clung to him like she was afraid he’d disappear into thin air.

“Y/N, I’m right here,” he assured her. “I’m right here, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

“But if you n-need space, I understand,” she sobbed.

“I appreciate the offer, but I don’t need space. I think a week was long enough, don’t you?” he asked, pressing a kiss into her hair.

She pulled back out of the hug, head down. “But I really hurt you.”

He held her hand. “Yeah. And I really hurt you, too.”

She huffed out a breath. “That’s not how this works. I don’t get to hurt you just because you hurt me.”

“I know that.” He almost laughed at how indignant she sounded. “I’m not saying that we should hurt each other. I’m saying that sometimes it happens. And when it does, we apologize, and we forgive, and we move forward. And it’s okay if you need space. But I don’t.”

“What if you change your mind?” she whispered.

“Then I promise I’ll tell you.” Spencer tilted her chin up so he could meet her eyes. “I promise I’ll tell you what I need, as long as you tell me, too. We’ve gotta use all those communication skills we learn in therapy.”

Y/N nodded, and he pulled her into another hug. He closed his eyes, letting out a sigh of relief. “If I hadn’t heard from you by Sunday, I was planning to bother you until you talked to me.”

He could feel the beginning of a smile turning up the corner of her mouth where it was pressed to his shoulder. “You never bother me,” she mumbled. She held him for a moment longer and then released him from the hug and sat back, fidgeting with her hands and letting out a breath.

“Sometimes I need to be told that my worst fears about myself aren’t true,” she admitted. “I know that’s so annoying, but—”

“It’s not annoying,” he interrupted, putting an immediate stop to that line of thought. “Telling you how amazing you are isn’t the chore that you think it is. I’m sorry that anyone ever convinced you that it was.”

He covered her hands with his own, rubbing his thumbs softly along her skin. He couldn’t stop thinking about her dealing with all of this by herself. He hated that she’d ever felt anything less than adored. More than anything, he hated that he hadn’t been able to help her through it. And he wanted to make sure that he never made that mistake again.

“A wise man told me once... that love is helping someone navigate their storms,” he murmured, squeezing her hand. She looked at him then, and he continued, “You’ve been my lighthouse for a long time, Y/N. And I— I’m trying desperately to be yours… But you have to let me.”

Her eyes filled with fresh tears, but she nodded. He let out a long breath and pulled her hands into his lap. “I understand that sometimes you need space, and that’s fine. I’m happy to give you whatever you need.”

He shook his head. “Just— please don’t try to weather the storm by yourself. You can’t do it all alone; no one can.” He smiled ruefully. “I can tell you from experience that’s pretty much a guaranteed way to capsize your boat.”

His voice cracked a little at the end, and he felt a tear slip over his lash line. “I’ll help you repair your boat, or build a new one, or you can just float on mine for a while. It’s not perfect but it’s pretty sturdy, I think.”

She brought her fingers up to brush at his damp cheeks, and he met her eyes. “What I’m not going to do is let you float out on the ocean by yourself. I love you too much.”

She was quiet for a long moment, sniffling a little and just watching him— almost like she couldn’t believe he was there. She brought her hand back to his and laced their fingers together, rubbing her thumb along his skin. “I love you the most.”

“Agree to disagree.” He gave her a small smile and leaned forward to press his lips to her forehead. “Want some tea?”

She was frowning when he pulled back, her brows drawn together. “I need to tell you about Owen.”

The conversation he’d had with Anita was suddenly on replay in Spencer’s head.

… a real piece of shit… telling her lies about herself… isolating her… destroying her from the inside out...

He squeezed her hand. “You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready. You don’t have to tell me at all if you don’t want to.”

She shook her head. “Talking about him takes away his power. I have to stop letting him have so much sway over my emotions.” She looked at him then. “I do things I regret and hurt people I love.”

He brought their joined hands up his lips. “Well, I’m here either way. And I’m still going to make you some tea.”

He stood and pulled her up with him, bringing her into the kitchen and refusing to let go of her hand. He filled the kettle and turned it on, found a bag of her favorite tea and ripped it open with his teeth. He dropped the bag into her favorite mug, and then made a mug up for himself.

“You know, it’d be a lot easier if you’d let go,” she said, the hint of a smile in her voice.

“Mhm,” he agreed, but he made no move to release her hand. In fact, once he’d fumbled a spoonful of honey into each of the cups, he dropped the spoon into her mug and turned to pull her into another hug. He hooked his chin over her shoulder and closed his eyes as she brought her arms around his waist. “I missed you,” he whispered.

She squeezed him tight. “I missed you, too. I’m so sorry.”

She buried her face in his neck, and he felt her breathe him in. He pressed a kiss into her shoulder and then settled his chin again. “Apology accepted, in case it wasn’t clear.”

They stood like that until the kettle began to whistle, and then Spencer kept her tucked underneath his arm as he turned to shut it off and pour the water into the mugs. They each grabbed a mug, making their way back to the couch and setting them on the coffee table to steep. Spencer kept their fingers intertwined and stayed quiet, letting her set the pace of the conversation.

Y/N took a deep breath and let it out on a long sigh. “I guess I should start at the beginning. I, um— I had my first boyfriend in high-school: Cal Cunningham. He was older and cooler, and so I felt— I don’t know… special when he picked me.” She rolled her eyes. “In reality, he was rude, and arrogant, and kind of a misogynist. We didn’t date for very long, but it kind of… set me up on this path of dating guys who weren’t very nice.”

Spencer ran his thumb soothingly along hers, waiting for her to continue. “When I started college, I dated this guy Adam for a few months. He was nice enough but really self-centered and a little immature. When we broke up I just wanted to be on my own for a while.”

“I was single for two years after that, just kind of… finding myself and whatever.” Her eyes tracked the path his thumb traced along her skin. “So when I started dating Owen at the end of junior year, it felt like my first real relationship. Like— we were both adults, and he dressed up for our dates, and he paid for things and bought me flowers and fit all the cliches.”

“And it was great at first,” she admitted. “We had a lot of the same friends, so we’d been hanging out for a while before we got together. He was a perfect gentleman— and smart, accomplished, and ambitious. I fell fast, and I fell hard, and we were sort of— it feels so stupid to say this, but it felt like we were an it couple.”

“A few of us made plans to move to DC after graduation— my friend Jess and her boyfriend Chris, Sam and Anita,” she explained. “And Owen and I, obviously. We moved in together in an apartment downtown. And that’s when everything changed.”

She drew her brows together. “It was little things at first. Like he’d jokingly call me stupid for forgetting something, or he’d complain about one of my friends being annoying. But it snowballed pretty quickly. He’d tell me I was stupid, and he wasn’t joking. All of my friends irritated him to the point where we couldn’t hang out anymore— even our former mutual friends. He thought that teaching kindergarten was a mindless, pointless job.”

Spencer tried to keep his heart rate steady, his facial expressions neutral, but his blood pressure was on the rise. No one deserved to be spoken to like that, least of all Y/N.

She continued, “We spent the holidays at my parents’ the second year we were dating, and he spent the entire car ride home explaining, in detail, how ridiculous and low-class he thought everything was.”

She shook her head and rubbed her free hand over her face. “I know it’s insane that I stayed with him for five years, but I— he did a really good job of convincing me that I was... that I was nothing. That he was doing me a favor by loving me. That he could have anyone, but he chose me. No one else was going to, so I should be grateful.”

He balled his free hand into a fist to avoid squeezing her to death. When Anita had said Owen was a piece of shit… he hadn’t realized just how deeply she meant it.

She picked at the fabric of her sweatpants, staring intently at the tiny pills. “When someone says all of that to you on a daily basis, and you’re not hearing otherwise from anyone else— because no one knew what was going on— when someone tells you you’re nothing… you start to believe it.”

Spencer relaxed his fist to bring his fingers up to her face, gently cupping her cheek. She leaned into his touch and closed her eyes for a long moment. He didn’t know what to say. Instead, he pressed his lips to her forehead in a voiceless assurance that she was, in fact, everything. He felt her relax under the warm pressure of his lips, and he hoped that was enough for now.

He sat back to let her continue. “We were together for five years, and we only broke up because he cheated on me. It was a long term affair; they were sleeping together for almost a year before I found out. And… a lot of people knew. Almost all of his friends knew. But I didn’t. I was still being this ridiculous, desperate little Suzy Homemaker trying to make him happy, even though he was still treating me like shit.”

She laughed, but there wasn’t an ounce of humor in it. “When I found out, I wasn’t even hurt. I was… embarrassed, I guess. But I was so relieved. I was so fucking relieved that I had a way out.”

He watched as her shoulders settled, almost like an actual weight had been lifted off of them. “I got a therapist and dropped all of the friends that were still hanging around with him. I moved to a new neighborhood, started hanging out with Anita and Sam, and just— started fresh. And I was doing really well. I’ve had my moments of insecurity here and there, but for the most part, I’ve been able to recognize the moments when I’m falling back into old thought patterns.”

She looked at him then, and her eyes were so soft and lovely that his heart ached. “You’re a big reason for that. You’re so open with how you feel about me, and… it makes things a lot easier.” She dropped her gaze with a sigh. “But I— he was at the party on New Year's. And I didn’t know he was going to be there until I was already there , and then it felt stupid to leave. I thought I could handle it—”

“And then I didn’t answer your call.”

“No, no .” She shook her head and reached her free hand out to grasp his arm. “That’s— Spencer, none of this is your fault.” She furrowed her brow, and the crease between them was practically an abyss. “He sort of— cornered me on the patio. I hadn’t seen him in like, four years? And he was complimenting me, and asking about you, and then he tried to— well, he did kiss me actually. I shoved him off, and he didn’t like that, and he did his whole Owen thing. Told me that he’d cheated because I was uninteresting and worthless. That eventually you’d get bored of me, too. Just, um— generally awful shit.”

She took a deep breath, and the rest steamrolled off her tongue and over his heart. “And then he just— left . And he’d absolutely demolished my self-image in less than ten minutes, and I was embarrassed and angry at myself, and then you didn’t answer, but I was kind of glad you didn’t because I didn’t actually want to talk about it. And I thought I could just move on, but then I was being weird, and you knew something was wrong. And I just wanted to pretend like it never happened, but then you kept pressing me on it, and I just— I didn’t want to have to explain it all to you because I was afraid that— that maybe he was right.”

Y/N dissolved back into the couch, an unwelcome indication of the emotional exhaustion that came with reliving trauma. Spencer moved closer and mirrored the position of her body against the cushions, bringing his face close enough to bump their noses together. They breathed the same air for one noiseless minute before she finally met his eyes.

“I need you to understand that not one single thing he said to you— on New Year’s or ever— was right, in either sense of the word. None of it was factual, and none of it was acceptable.”

She gave him a weary nod, and he continued, “You are the single best person that I know. You’re kind, brilliant, and driven. You’re interesting, and wonderful, and lovely. You’re my absolute favorite person on the planet, and I will never get bored of you.”

He let his eyes trace over all the angles and curves of her face, and then raised his eyebrows. “He’s lucky that I respect you enough not to go over your head, because what I’d like to do is run a full background check and find any and every possible transgression that could be legally investigated and then use that information to ruin his life.” He tilted his head in thought. “That or— get really jacked and then beat the shit out of him.”

“God, please don’t. As much as I’d love to watch that unfold,” she cupped his face in her hand, “you’re better than that. And he’s not worth either of our energies… I already wasted enough time dwelling on it and hurt you in the process.” She dropped her hand back to her lap with a sigh. “I spent so much time in that relationship that my brain didn’t know what to do with this good, healthy one.”

He took both of her hands in his, squeezing them tight and then pressing a kiss to the back of each. He wouldn’t commit assault, since she’d asked him not to. But he wasn’t going to let Owen taint any part of his life with her.

“I’m so sorry that someone you loved made you think it was hard to love you. Because loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done.” He pressed his lips together and mused, “But I think maybe love has a learning curve. Especially when you’re used to being hurt. You have to unlearn all the bullshit. People will have you thinking that you have to water yourself down, or change who you are, or make yourself more palatable. I thought that, too.”

He brushed her hair back away from her face and waited for her to meet his eyes. “And then I met you. And you love all of it— all of me. All the rambling, all the quirks, and— even the dark parts, too.”

She sniffled a little, but really smiled for the first time that night. “What’s not to love about you?”

He smiled back. “I’m not sure if you realize that I fully reciprocate that feeling. What’s not to love about you? I have a hard time thinking of even one thing about you that I don’t absolutely adore.”

“Even when I act like a horrid bitch?” she mumbled, only half joking.

He leaned his head against the couch cushion. “A year ago, you stood on my doorstep and gave me forgiveness— after I’d been a complete asshole to you... I told you then that I wanted to learn how to love with you. I still do. In all the wonderful, and the weird, and the terrible. Even when we get it wrong.”

He shrugged, and then ran a soft fingertip down the bridge of her nose. “There is no one else I’d rather get it wrong with. Because when we get it right… it’s the closest I’ve ever felt to magic.”

Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears, and she brought both hands up to his face, holding him with an adoration that made his own eyes burn. “You can believe that you love me the most,” she whispered, “but just know that you’re wrong.”

He leaned forward to close the distance between them, pressing a kiss to her lips with a reverence that felt technicolor and devout and more magical than any trick he’d ever mastered.

“Agree to disagree.”

———

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its-deputy-caleb · 3 years

Note

If you're feeling up to writing a bit of Mikey, could I please request him being an asshat to everyone and being told off by his S/O after he asks Jack if he wants to earn a dollar?

(You know the part where he says to ask Arthur about the stick up his butt?)

He's such a dickhead and I find myself telling the screen off when he does it! 😂

His S/O giving him a slap and a bollocking after he kicks Cain, then they fuss over Cain and force Micah to make friends with him.

I dunno, it's up to you 😂 You could write any scenario you want, I'll still love it 😘😘

i am always up to writing for a bit of mikey (that nickname is so cute) but ngl i had no idea how to write this or put this together. I watched the clips again so i could get it accurate but i changed it bc i didn't know if u wanted a happy ending or not but i hope i delivered <33 also u asked for either and i gave u both :)

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

Clemens Point was a strange place with even stranger people. After leaving valentine in a hurry it seems the entire gang was on edge and ready to blow like a stick of dynamite. It seems having to act like upstanding heartfelt citizens to the Grays and the Braithwaites has meant everyone is that aggravated and pent up.

On more than one occasion you’d seen Sadie lose it when Pearson got to pushy with chores and it seems Abigail and John couldn’t stand to have a normal conversation for five minutes before one of them broke. It wasn’t much better with Dutch and Hosea who were constantly disagreeing on the right moves for the gang, although they were much more civil about it.

You did your best to keep out of everyone’s way, to avoid the confrontation but knowing your luck you’d end up getting involved one way or another.

You were returning to camp one sweltering hot afternoon with Sadie after you finished collecting the gang’s weekly stock from the general store. You were only half listening to the hustle around the camp as you were too busy listening to Sadie tell you all about Pearson’s dear aunt Cathy. You stepped off the wagon and headed to the back to start unloading some of the supplies when the sound of Micah’s voice could be heard talking to Jack.

“How’d ya like to earn a dollar?”

His voice with thick with malice as he hunched over the wooden table. In Micah’s hands was a silver nickel that he fiddled with between his fingers, much like you’d seen of him do with his knife. Your eyes found Jack who was almost reluctant to get anywhere near the man who you knew scared him. However, being the innocent child that he was his eyes lit up at the sight of something shiny.

“A dollar? Sure.”

You carried the heavy bag of potatoes over to Pearson’s wagon as you went back for another round of supplies but you kept the boy in the corner of your eye.

“Well…go on up to old Arthur Morgan, ask him about the pole he’s got stuck up his ass and I’ll give ya a dollar.”

Micah’s face lit up in a smirk, his accent thick and his typical evil giggle falling from his mouth. He sat back on the chair, satisfied at the mischief he’s caused.

Before you could get anywhere Jack had run off to where Arthur was sitting in his tent, reading over a letter. You placed another round of ammunition into Strauss’ wagon, dropping it hastily and running as you saw Arthur walk right up to Micah with a murderous look in his eye.

“I’ll give you a dollar if you shut your—“

Arthur didn’t get to finish his insult before you stepped in front of him with a soft hand on his shoulder. You gave him a soft smile and a nod, quietly saying to your dear friend that you’d handle this.

With that you turned with your own look of anger directed to Micah. Everyone knew you loved him but they also knew you didn’t hesitate to call him out and get him to behave when you had to.

“Micah leave the damn boy alone!”

He scoffed like he wasn’t offended you didn’t defend him and instead chose to call him out. Micah’s hands came up in his signal of fake defeat as he slowly backed away from his place at the table, acting as if he was nothing more than the innocent bystander and not the one who nearly ended up on the ground with a broken nose for starting it.

You watched as Micah lingered around the edge of the camp, his eyes trained to yours as he lit a cigarette but you ignored him. Instead you walked over to Jack, smiling softly and taking his hand to lead him to the river’s edge.

“Common, why don’t we go see if we can find any beautiful rock on the sand, hmm? I’m sure your mother would love such a beautiful gift.”

Of course, it wasn’t more than a few days later when you ran into trouble again with Micah. You’d spent your time ignoring him mostly, instead choosing to go hunting with Charles and Arthur, practice your throwing knives with Javier and help teach Jack to read. You knew how badly it pissed Micah off to do things without him but he needed to understand that there was a way to treat people, especially with people you considered family.

You rolled up your sleeves, using your forearm to wipe the sweat from your forehead as you picked up the knife and started cutting carrots and potatoes for tonights stew.

“Are you a good boy? Yes you are! The best boy”

Your head came up to notice bill sitting against the log by the campfire, scratching under Cain’s chin and giving the energetic dog pats along the back. You couldn’t help but smile at the new addition to the gang and how happy it made you to see Bill less stressed. It seemed that having Cain made everyone feel more caring and loving.

All except Micah.

“You’re the fool that feed’s him Marion. He ain’t nothing more than a filthy mongrel and an extra mouth to feed.”

Micah had stood from his place on the opposite side of the campfire to antagonise Bill. A frustrated noise leaves you as you slam the knife down on the wooden bench, ready to storm over there and chew Micah’s ear off. You take a step forward only for Miss Grimshaw, who was working next to you, to grab your arm and stop you before you get any further.

“There is a time and a place dear, don’t make it worse.”

Of course you knew Susan was just trying to keep another argument from happening but you push past her when you see Micah inching towards Cain who had left his spot at Bill’s feet to hide by a wagon. In a split second decision you pick the knife you’re cooking with and use it like a throwing knife to get his attention. The knife swings through the air, not getting near anyone, it wasn’t like you actually wanted to stab Micah no matter how badly he could get on your nerves and watched as it got wedged into the tree behind him.

Micah’s head shot up, his foot moving away from Cain and stared dumbfounded and shocked, unused to seeing you so skilfully throw a knife but your practices paid off. You walked right into his personal space, taping your finger against his chest.

“Don’t. You. Dare”

Micah’s first response was to try and sweet-talk his way out of it like he always does but you were in no mood to deal with his slyness.

“Dare to do what sweetheart? Common now… weren’t gonna do nothin—“

Your hand came to give Micah a crisp slap across the cheek, apart of you was shocked that you’d even do such a thing but the other half of you was furious.

“Don’t underestimate for a minute that I won’t dump you right now and throw you out of camp Micah. I’m not some stranger you can sweet-talk when you get in trouble. I swear, if I see you go anywhere near Cain the knife isn’t going to hit the tree next time.”

Micah’s eyebrows shoot up in shock as you lecture him in front of almost the entire gang. Even Dutch put his book down when he heard your slap. He was lost for words, truely, having now other thought as he watched you walk away back to preparing tonights stew. He didn’t move from his place until he heard you whistle for Cain to sit by your feet, where he went and meandered off into the forest to give you space. All he knew was that he must have fucked up bad if you threatened to leave him.

A few hours later you’d managed to calm down, watching the sunset after Ms Grimshaw gave you the rest of the night off to relax at how pent up you were. Now sitting here you couldn’t help but feel like you may have over reacted but Micah had pushed your buttons one too many times and if Micah was going to listen to anyone it would be you. You let out a soft but hearty sigh as the tension and stress from your shoulders left with your breath. Your body relaxed against the tree and you watched the sun gently dip below the horizon.

It was well and truely dark before you heard the rustling of grass and the thud of someone sitting next to you. You thought it may have been Arthur coming to check on you but that thought died when arms wrapped around your waist and you felt Micah rest his chin on your shoulder, his stringy hair tickling your face at the gentle breeze.

“…M’ sorry…”

A very quiet and forced apology was pulled from Micah as he cuddled into you, mumbling it into your shoulder at the pain of actually having to apologise.

“Sorry won’t cut it Micah. You have to stop treating people that I care about— people that are family better.”

Micah sighs, the defeated, tired one that shows he’s willing to listen because no matter how badly he stirs up trouble, the thought of losing you is enough to have him turn his mind around.

“I know…gonna make it up to ya I promise.”

A soft and very cautious kiss is placed on your shoulder with Micah knowing he’s still not forgiven by you yet.

“You’re damn well gonna make it up to me. Firstly you’re apologising to Jack first thing tomorrow and secondly you need to pull your weight for this gang— and no I’m not talking about robbing another coach. To start you can sit on guard duty with me and you can wash my clothes.”

“I’ll just buy you new clothes”

You give Micah a death glare as you tilt your head to look at him. Instantly his teasing smirk leaves and his arms come to wrap tighter around your body, resting his hands on your stomach and intertwining your fingers.

“Alright, alright… guard duty ain’t so bad.”

You sit together for a while in a comfortable silence. All the energy from today had left you and you no longer had it in you to keep arguing. You’d hold Micah to his promise to do better but for now you leant back into his embrace and rested your head against his.

“Can I at least sleep in the tent tonight?”

You smiled softly as you hummed in contemplation just to tease him. Micah hadn’t come to sleep in your shared tent since the day he messed with Jack and both of you had missed each other despite the frustration and anger you had.

“Hmm, we’ll see.”

Micah thinks you’ve said no, panicking internally but is stopped when you turn your head and place a soft kiss to his cheek over the mark from where you’d slapped him not so long ago. It wasn’t the kiss that he wanted but he still needed to make it up to you before you gave him what he wanted.

You reached a soft hand up behind you, cradling his head and rubbing your thumb over his sore cheek.

“Is your cheek okay?”

Micah let out a gravelly noise, deep from his chest as he leaned into your hand.

“Ain’t gotta worry sweetheart, I’ve survived much worse”

You don’t get to reply when a tentative and cautious Cain makes his way over to the two of you. You pat your leg and he curls up beside you with his head resting on your leg and his tail thumbing, relaxed and happy.

Micah on the other hand was not relaxed or happy as he tensed up and moved away from the dog and you. If it wasn’t for your hand holding the back of his head he probably would’ve jumped away.

“Micah Cain isn’t going to hurt you, he just wants attention like you. See? No need to be afraid.”

To prove your point you reach a hand out and gently brush over his short, grey fur, watching as he perks up.

“I ain’t afraid!”

You would’ve believed him if you didn’t catch the waver in his voice but you knew. You knew after seeing him be spooked by the animal more than once around camp.

The hand that was still intertwined with his gently guided his hand pat Cain, letting him slowly get comfortable to him.

It took some time but finally Micah had gotten used to Cain enough to realise he was clearly not a threat. At some point Cain had moved over to Micah’s side, resting beside him as the night became later.

A yawn left you and you slowly sank into Micah’s embrace, your eyelids falling shut as you dozed, clearly exhausted.

Holding Micah to his promise was a job for tomorrow, but for now you let yourself fall asleep in his arms, the tent be damned.

#in the video micah is totally scared of cain #the man is terrified lmao #im also addicted to the nickname mikey now #adroable #and ignore the errors i have not edited this #micah bell x reader #micah bell imagine #micah bell #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2

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slowly-writing · 4 years

Text

Bullying

Natasha Romanoff x Teen!Reader

Word count: 2K

Requested by anon: Can you do an imagine where natashas daughter is being bullied and she finds out?

You have your hands shoved in your pockets, pulling your jacket down and allowing the hood to fall more into your face, blocking you from the harsh stares of your classmates. You should’ve expected your life to turn out like this. You knew what high school was like. Fitting in was the main priority and the mob of insecure students would swarm anything different.

You should’ve known that you’d be the number one target. The adopted teenager living with the most famous heroes in the world. It was dumb to think you’d be able to fly under the radar the way Peter had. The boy had comforted you those days leading up to your freshman year. Having just finished his own he told you that it would be fine. Boy was he wrong.

The freshman hall was far enough away from the sophomores that he never saw your torment, and over the last three years you learned how to make sure he never would. You wouldn’t let the boy who’d always been like an older brother to you get caught in the crossfire. He’d try to stick up for you and blow the only normal thing he had left. You’ve made it to junior year, you can make it the rest of the way.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by a shoulder slamming into yours, sending you stumbling into the lockers.

“Watch it Annie!” A girl called over her shoulder and you frowned at the nickname. Ever since the kids found out you were adopted they started calling you Annie, after the orphan girl, and you hated it. Rather than saying anything you just quickened your pace and slipped into your first class.

“It’s fine that they call me that,” you mumble to yourself, “that way I don’t flinch at the sound of my own name being called. I’d never be able to hide that from Peter. Or Wanda. Especially not from mom.”

You try to rationalize everything as you settle into your desk, pretending not to see the kids pointing at you and laughing as you become the brunt of their joke.

xxxxx

You manage to ignore it for the most part. The words aren’t what hurt. Well they do, whoever said words will never hurt me obviously didn’t know what they were talking about. But that hurt you could cover with a fake smile and an excuse of being stressed over homework or some other thinly veiled excuse. The giant bruise forming on your forehead was harder to hide.

Some girl named Beverly decided it’d be funny to trip you at lunch, sending you head first into the table. Now you had a lovely purple mark and some swelling by your hairline. Thank god you left a beanie in your locker. It should be enough to cover the injury.

“Hey Romanoff!” The call of your name makes your head snap up in panic, you quickly pull on the hat as Peter makes his way towards you.

“Oh hey Pete, what brings you to my neck of the woods?” you ask, a genuine smile on your face for the first time today.

“I’m heading to the tower to do some work with Tony, wanna walk together?” his smile is wide as he asks, completely carefree, and you wish you could feel that way as well.

“Uh, yeah. Sounds good,” you try to sound casual. There’s no way to brush him off without being obvious. You’re waking the exact same route. Luckily the walk home is fairly uneventful. The assholes seem to be warded off by Peter. The late autumn heat has him in a tank top that shows off his arms, and while he’s not the buffest guy in the school, it’s obvious he can hold his own. If only they knew how strong he really was.

You see a few people staring, more like glaring, but you’re able to ignore them pretty easily. Soon enough the two of you are walking into the lobby of the tower incident free.

“I’m gonna head to the labs. You good from here?” Peter’s question feels heavy, almost as if he was intentionally trying to make you feel safer, but you brush the feeling off with a nod and a wave as you head to the elevator. You’re probably overthinking it. A few moments later you're in the common room and you let out a sigh of relief. Finally a safe place. No teasing here, or at least none with any malice behind it.

“Hey, y/n. How was school?” you look up to see Wanda on the couch and you immediately blush.

“Hey Wan, it was alright. How was...whatever it is you do here during the day?” you tease and she rolls her eyes, a matching blush painting her cheeks. Thank god the kids at school don’t know about this...whatever you have with Wanda. They’d tear you to shreds.

“I do online school and I work, thank you very much. I do important stuff here, ya know, like saving the world,” she’s glaring at you as she says it, but you can see something in her eyes. You can’t quite place it, friendship, something more? Whatever it is, it’s so different from the hate you see from the kids at school.

“A bit full of yourself, aren’t you? I feel like that’s all just fancy talk for free loading and laziness. You gotta get out there, get some dirt under your nails. You’re too spoiled, spending all this time in the tower,” you notice yourself leaning closer to her as you talk and your eyes involuntarily flash towards her lips as butterflies take over your stomach.

“And that uh…that fancy private school you spend your time in. That’s gotta be really...tough?” she tries to defend herself but her words come out weak as she inches ever so much closer. you ‘re about to close the gap when you hear a voice from the doorway.

“I thought I heard you come in. How was school?” The two of you spring apart at your mom’s voice.

“It was good,” you squeak out, adjusting your hat to cover your forehead.

“Yeah, learning a lot,” Wanda mumbles as your mom rolls her eyes. She’s well aware of the weird relationship you and Wanda have, and while she’d prefer you didn’t date until you’re well into your thirties she knows if you’re going to, then Wanda is a good choice.

“What’s with the beanie, love? It’s like eighty degrees out,” your mom’s questions has you panicking.

“I uh...like it. It’s cool,” you defend and Wanda rolls her eyes this time, back to her playful self from earlier.

“I’m sweating just looking at you. Let me help!” she teases and you see the red mist around her hands before you feel it.

“No!” you lunge at her, as if you’d be any match for her powers, but before you even reach her your hat is floating in the air and her eyes are wide.

“What the hell happened?” your mom’s voice is harsh and tears are already gathering in your eyes. You look frantically between your mom and Wanda, who seems to take the hint.

“I’ll give you two some space,” Wanda says before hastily leaving the room.

“Y/n, what happened?” she asks again, gentler this time but you still try to get out of it.

“It’s nothing-” the look in her eyes stops you. It’s the look she sent you when you would try to sneak candy after bedtime when you were little, but this time there’s a pain mixed in that you’re not used to seeing. “It’s just some kids at school. They like to pick on me. It’s really not that big of a deal.”

“How long has this been going on?” She looks...sad and it kind of scares you. That’s not an emotion you’re used to your mom having. Stoicness, yes especially when she’s working. Happiness, yes; more often since you came around your uncles tell you. Love, confidence, bravery, exasperation, even anger sometimes. But almost never sadness or pain and now she’s shown both of those in a matter of minutes.

“Mom,” you try again but she shakes her head, brushing the tears forming in her eyes.

“How long, love?” she asks again and you sigh.

“Since freshman year.” It’s her turn to sigh. Sitting next to you on the couch and pulling you into her side gently. It’s an odd mix of emotions, you can see on her face that she doesn’t know if she wants to cry or burn your school to the ground. You’re sure Wanda is getting a headache trying to sort through the many emotions coming from this room. You ignore that though. You leave the turmoil to everyone else for once as you finally relax, the weight of your secret finally off your shoulders.

“Friday, call Wanda and Peter in here please,” her voice is calm, and you don’t know if you should be scared.

“Mom? What are you-”

“I just want to talk to them,” she cuts you off, and you don’t have time to argue before the two are entering the room.

“Hey Miss Romanoff, Friday said you wanted to-Oh my god! What happened?” Peter yells as he sees the bruise maring your face, and Wanda is silent behind him as he processes the scene. Her eyes are red, almost like she’s been crying. Was she crying for you?

“By that reaction I’m guessing you didn’t know about this. Maximoff, are those tears of sympathy or fear for your life?” your mom snaps and you glare at her.

“I didn’t know, if that’s what you’re asking. I wouldn’t have sat by while she was being hurt,” there’s an anger behind Wanda’s words that you weren’t expecting. You didn’t think she’d cared this much. It makes sense, though, when you think about how you’d feel if the situation was reversed.

“As much as I wanna walk down to the school guns blazing, I can’t go beat up a bunch of kids, so I’m going to need the two of you to look out for her,” you scoff and stand from the couch at your mom’s words, crossing your arms across your chest.

“Excuse me, I’m right here. I’m not an invalid! And Wanda doesn’t even go to my school.”

“I’m well aware, you and I are starting training as soon as that heals,” she gestures to your forehead, “and Wanda will be enrolling in your school. Tony can have it all set up by tomorrow.”

“What? No! I’m not letting her start school just so she can get beaten up too!” you practically yell, but Wanda’s hand on your arm has you looking to her.

“I’m not letting my…” there’s a heavy pause, one that you know you’ll have to find the right word for soon, “friend get hurt when I could help. Plus, they quite literally can’t hurt me, and I want to be there for you.”

Her words have your resolve cracking, but you don’t want to give in that easy. “You’re a year older. You’ll be gone before me,” you try to argue and Wanda looks away, a blush of embarrassment on her cheeks.

“She also missed a lot of school in Sokovia. She tested in a grade below you,” your mom explains, and it clicks as to why Wanda always did school online. Well one of the reasons at least, she’d be two years older than her classmates.

“Well I could tutor you,” you offer quickly, not wanting Wanda to feel ashamed in front of you. “It seems like we’re gonna be spending most of our time together. Plus you’re miles smarter than me. You’ll be the one teaching me in no time.”

“Then it’s settled. This won’t happen again.” Your mom’s words feel more like a promise and you smile. “And I want the names of the girls that did this to you.”

“Mom! I thought you agreed no beating up kids!” you argue, a smile finding its way back on your face as you try to hold back a laugh.

“I’m not going to beat them up. But I never said anything about some light hacking,” she says with a wink and you roll your eyes, not entirely sure if she’s kidding or not.

tag list: @rvgrsbrns @rororo06 @prizmix-and-friends @worlds-in-words @im-salt-but-not-salty @5aftermidnight @riotmaximoff @xxxtwilightaxelxxx

Marvel women tag list: @imnotasuperhero

Natasha Romanoff tag list: @indiavance555

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x kid!reader #natasha romanoff x teen!reader #natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #Natasha Romanova #Black Widow #black widow x reader #black widow imagine #black widow x you #black widow x daughter!reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x romanoff!reader #bullying

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h0rnyshakespeare · 3 years

Text

Midnight Mochi

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Ochako Uraraka

Genre: Fluff, comfort

Word Count: 1310

Warnings: Minor swearing (if I missed out on anything let me know)

A/N: If you don’t like Kacchako (as I know most of the BNHA fandom do) ignore this one, and don’t forget to send in requests!! I’m currently in season 2 of Haikyuu and I’m wondering if I should start writing for it, so feel free to send Haikyuu requests too!

“Dammit…” was all that was going through Bakugou’s mind as he made his way back to the dorms. It was late, well later than his usual bedtime, although he could really care less at that moment. “That damn Deku.”

Bakugou hated feeling like this, it was so foreign to him, and it was pissing him off. He felt exposed, vulnerable and weak despite what All Might had said to him back at the grounds. “If only I were freaking better at this. I’m so freaking stupid.” Whatever ‘this’ meant. If he was being honest, Bakugou was not sure either. All his life, he had been told how powerful his quirk was, how smart he was, how good he was at practically everything he did. All it had given him was a cocky attitude and high expectations of himself, which was not necessarily a bad thing, but also caused him to be hard on himself. All he wanted now was to get back to his room without any more distractions so he could finally have time to clear his head without anyone disturbing him or feeling even more exposed to everyone around him.

Ochako could not sleep. She expected to pass out as soon as her head hit her pillow as training had been tough today, yet so many thoughts were running through her head. Unable to toss and turn around in bed anymore, she decided to go downstairs for a warm cup of tea and maybe a leftover mochi or two from the batch Sato had made for the whole class earlier. In her defense, mochi was her favourite food, and with how much she worked today she felt that she had earned a midnight snack.

As she made her way downstairs into the kitchen, she heard someone’s footsteps and froze. A villain?

Then she saw the familiar ash-blonde hair which she knew could only belong to one person. “Bakugou-kun? What’re you still doing up past curfew? I thought you went to sleep around eight thir-”

“Uraraka. Could ask the same of you.” Ochako stopped at his voice. Uraraka? What happened to Round Face and Pink Cheeks? It was rare that Bakugou ever called someone by their actual name, if he bothered to remember it at all. It was then that Ochako got a good look at the state of him, his spiky locks all messed up, dark circles under his ruby eyes, his usual tank top in tatters, his body bruised. “I, uh, couldn’t sleep, was making some tea. Um, would you like me to make a cup for y-?” “Don’t bother yourself,” Bakugou snapped back, although his voice was devoid of his usual annoyed tone. He sounded tired, which was beginning to worry Ochako. She knew Bakugou would hate being pressed, so instead of saying anything, Ochako went back to boiling some water. When Bakugou did not leave, however, she grabbed another mug and set it next to hers.

“The hell you doing, Round Face?”

There it was. Ochako chuckled internally at the nickname. “Making tea,” she replied, not glancing his way. “I told you not to make some for me.” “Yet you didn’t leave, it would’ve been rude to make one all to myself while you just stood there.” “Tch.” Bakugou muttered under his breath but did not object, leaning onto the kitchen counter as Ochako added the teabags. He watched as she rummaged through the fridge a bit, only to bring out a box of mochi and hold it out to him. “Mochi?” “Like hell I’d be caught eating that sugary shit.” “Okay, your loss,” Ochako giggled. “Tomorrow everyone’s gonna find out that the great Bakugou Katsuki can’t handle a cute little mochi-” “Gimme that,” he said, cutting her off as he swiped the box out of her hands. “Hey, you gotta leave me some! Those are my favourite!” “Yeah, I can see the resemblance,” Bakugou replied, causing her face to turn red. “That’s… that’s pretty rude, Bakugou-kun.” “Whatever.”

They ate in silence, not that Ochako minded. She could tell that Bakugou had something on his mind and decided not to ask unless he wanted to talk about it.

“So, you couldn’t sleep, huh?”

“Yeah, haha… I think I’m turning into some sort of insomniac,” Ochako joked, although Bakugou did not seem to find it funny. “Sleep is important, dumbass. You need it. How else are ya gonna achieve your goals. hah?” “I could say the same for you,” Ochako replied. “Were you training or something at 3 a.m.? You’re all bruised and tired.” “Like hell I am, I’m fine pink cheeks, geez.” “Alright, but if you need to, I don’t know, talk to anyone, I’m here. I may not be the best person though, just letting you know.” “You need to stop doing that.” Bakugou said firmly. Ochako was confused. Had she done something wrong? “Huh? What’re you talking about, Bakugou-kun?” “I’m talking about how you always seem to degrade yourself,” he replied curtly, a slight frown on his face. Ochako’s heartbeat slightly sped up in… nervousness of being caught of her self-deprecation, but there was something else too. Whatever it was, Ochako pushed it down. He noticed?

“Whether you’re joking around or not, talking down about yourself is never healthy, you idiot. You’re worth a lot more than you give yourself credit for.” “Th-thank you, same goes for you too, you know?” “Tch, of course I freaking know, I’m the best,” he said, although Ochako noticed a slight crack in his voice. “Um, Bakugou-kun, I may be overstepping my boundaries a bit here but… are you sure you’re alright?” The silence that followed was nearly unbearable, and Ochako feared she had only made things worse. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked, I’ll be going now.” As she made her way to leave, she felt him grasp her wrist. “Bakugou-kun-” “Stay,” was all he said as he slightly tugged on her wrist, causing her to fall onto him accidentally as she was not expecting him to do so. “I-I’m sorry! It was an accide-” “Just… let’s just stay like this for a while,” Ochako barely heard him mutter, the usual roughness in his voice replaced with an almost… lonely tone. Ochako had no idea what to do, so she just let him hug her, her own arms slowly making their way around his body before Bakugou suddenly seemed to realize what he was doing and quickly let go of her. “Shit, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that without asking-” Ochako hugged him again, cutting him off. He slowly wrapped his arms around her waist and seeing that she made no movement to pull away, buried his face in the crook of her neck. “Tch, I’m so freaking pathetic.” He said it so quietly that Ochako would have missed it if his lips were not right next to her ear. She moved one hand upwards to stroke his hair softly.

“You’re not pathetic,” she said, gently. “I may not know what happened, but I do know you’re a great person, Bakugou-kun. You’re the best, remember?” she chuckled. “You work so hard; I just know that one day you’ll be the best hero out there. So, take your own advice and never talk down on yourself. You’re so much more than that.” Silence engulfed the small kitchen as they stayed in that position for a while, until Bakugou pulled away. “This never freaking happened, ya hear me?” he said, not a hint of malice in his words. Ochako saw a faint pink dusting his cheeks and giggled. “I won’t.” “I’ll see you around then, Round Face,” he said, making his way to leave before pausing at the doorway. “And, uh, thanks or whatever.” “Try not to get caught by Iida-kun, Bakugou-kun.” Ochako smiled back at him as she walked in the opposite direction to her dorm.

#anime #anime fanfic #mha #mha fanfiction #my hero academia #bnha #bnha fanfiction #boku no hero academia #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #uraraka ochako #ochako urakara #ochako x bakugou #bakuraka #bakugou x uraraka #kacchako

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shootingstarwritings · 3 years

Text

Eight Pleas on a Starry Night

Eight Cups a Day

Eight Memories a Minute

All that this creature knew from the moment of its "birth," was to consume. The moment it first began to understand "itself" and "the world," it absorbed whatever was in front of it. Just as babes from the womb yearn for their mother's womb, these slimes feast upon segments of their host's brains. There was no thought and no malice behind; instead, it was pure instinct. Consume and assimilate as much as the host's brain would allow until complete takeover.

The moment this creature, now male due to his host, opened his eyes, he saw the sight of another looking at him with emotion the creature couldn't quite understand just yet. However, through pure instinct and the slight connection they shared as a species, he knew that this was his brother. “Ah, hello,” he greeted with pure innocence.

“H-Hey,” his brother responded, sounding not unlike the people the creature saw in his host’s memories. How skillful was he at hiding amongst these humans? “D-Do you know who I am? Do you know who you are? What’s your name?” Now, he spoke aggressively, but alongside another set of emotions.

Not wanting to disappoint his brother, the creature said, “I do not recall,” with complete assurance. “I seem to be quite adept at assimilating my host’s memories, unfortunately. It looks as though I cannot be a unit that can infiltrate any of these people.”

His brother shut his eyes, as though he had swallowed something harsh, before saying, “You are Nolan. Your name is Nolan.”

“Nolan. Understood.”

“And I’m F-Forde. My name is Forde.” Forde took a deep breath, his hand brushing up against Nolan’s. Then, he intertwined their fingers together. “Do you really not remember me? When we looked at the stars together?"

Nolan shook his head. “Am I supposed to? I am sorry if I am not up to your standards, brother.” Squeezing Forde’s hand—was it his host’s natural response?—Nolan said, “I will do better in the future. Do not worry.”

Forde nodded as he drew his hand back to his chest. There was an emotion on Forde’s face that Nolan did not recognize, so he ignored it.

The creature inside of Alan stared up at the summer night. He had a fleeting thought of the few stars that shined despite the town's light pollution and wondered if that was where he and his kin came from. However, he quickly dismissed that line of thought. It was not important for their invasion, so it was unnecessary. He was reeling from these useless thoughts that continued to plague him ever since the day he emerged from the sea.

Most of his brothers had perished when he had managed to infect Forde. He could only convert one person and implant his sole offspring before his brothers, unable to speak to him and cry for help, dried up. All he could do now was ignore any sort of sentimentalism that burdened him and press on forward.

“I am an invader,” the invader said to himself, floating naked on the surface of the pool. “Then, why do I have these regrets?”

Regret was a sentiment that his host, Alan, was familiar with. Words left unsaid, arguments he couldn't take back, and a life that was snuffed due to a misunderstanding. The list was long but also faded. By now, the invader had engulfed most of Alan's memories, so there was very little he could recall with any clarity. All he could see was a series of faded images.

It mattered little, the invader decided. The lingering feelings didn’t matter. All that was important was to breed and infect. That was the final purpose they had.

“Alan, there’s someone at the door.”

Ah, that was unexpected. Alan swam to the edge of the pool and pulled himself out. “Do you know who it is, brother?”

He nodded. “It’s your friend—or rather, it’s your host’s friend,” said Forde. “He texted you, and I responded, and one thing left to another...” he said, nonchalantly while pointing his thumb to the front of the house. “And now he’s here. You gonna…?”

“I’ll have to infect him,” said the invader as he dried himself off. “There’s nothing else that can be done.”

“Right, well Nolan is by the door if you need any assistance.”

The invader raised an eyebrow. “Will you not help me?”

“I'm sorta tired if we're being honest. Maybe some other time?" Forde said with a shrug and a grin.

The invader narrowed his eyes but didn't say anything in response. He walked past Forde, but stopped right before crossing the doorway. “You are my offspring, and yet you are so different from your brother and myself. Why is that?” There was far too much personality, whether from the host or from the possessor itself. It was odd.

Forde’s gaze grew distant. “I wonder why myself,” he muttered. “But never mind that. Your friend’s in the front, and Nolan’s in position to help you infect him.”

“And your family? The ones who own this home?”

“Won’t be back until Monday. We’ve got plenty of time.”

The invader had suspicions rise, but he pushed them to the back of his mind. There were more pressing matters to attend to. “Please, watch over your siblings.” The invader didn’t wait for a response. He processed the information carefully and he dried off and dressed.

“Alan, hey!” Forde was right. A friend of Alan, a great deal younger—about middle-aged—stood in front of the doorway. The invader could not access much of Alan's memories, so the man was a stranger to him. However, he was knowledgeable enough to recognize the glint in the man's eyes.

“Thank you for coming.”

“Came as soon as I could,” the man said, smiling brightly as he spoke to Alan. “Said you needed my help? Say, what’s this place anyway? How come you’re here?” With narrowed eyes, the man leaned in and whispered, “Ain’t that kid a li’l too young for you? Seems kinda weird if you ask me.”

Alan shook his head. “He’s a family friend. Said he needed help moving a couch. Could you help me?”

The suspicion in the man’s eyes cleared, and he eagerly nodded. “Sure! I’ll give you hand. Lead the way.”

[LINE BREAK]

Forde was panting by the time he entered the house again. What he walked into didn’t surprise him, but he still had to fight the urge to gag.

“Hello, nngg, Forde!” Nolan greeted him as he fucked Alan’s convulsing friend. “This one has almost finished his conversion. Would you like to assist me?"

“I think I’ll pass,” Forde said, grimacing. His eyes lingered on the man before turning over to the sleeping Alan on the couch. “Alan’s asleep?”

“Yes, mmm. He-fuck—s-said creating so many offspring has left him exhausted. Will probably sleep until the party tomorrow.”

The party…

Forde took a deep breath, trying to calm his breathing. “Nolan, when you’re… finished, meet me in my room, all right?”

“Which—“

“The one closest to the bathroom. You can’t miss it.”

“Right."

Forde lied back on his bed, attempting to erase the image of Nolan happily plowing another man’s ass out of his head. There was no doubt that what he had seen was the truth, but it carried such wrongness to it that he couldn’t help to wind back to it. Nothing about Nolan seemed to have remained. The chipper friendliness and eagerness to please was something that would have disgusted Nolan and now it disgusted Forde. Not even the memories were there. At most, the one possessing Nolan could remember some family members, last name, and his street address.

Everything else, including that night under the stars, was gone.

“Is this my punishment?” asked Forde, unsure if God would answer the pleas of a parasite. “Is this what I deserve for killing Forde?" That sin would remain with him for the rest of his life. It didn't matter if he believed he was Forde and inherited the name, the body, and the memories, the original was gone. If Forde ever left this body, it would remain a hollow husk. The organs would function, but there would be no brain activity. It would be no different than a vegetable.

Yet, Forde could not deny his greedy nature—as a parasite and a man. I still want to be happy, he thought. God, Alan, and the world itself can shame and hate me for it, but I still want to live a happy life. He knew how shameless that desire was, but did not care. The pain and pleasure that he has known in his short time as a human only stroked the hungry flames that burned in his heart.

The door opened, and Nolan walked in, still naked. “I am here, brother,” he announced, as though it wasn’t obvious.

Forde drew the sheets back and scooted to the side of the bed. “Close the door, and lie with me.”

“Hmm? Will we be sleeping on the same bed?”

“Yeah. Keep me company for tonight, will ya?”

“I see no reason to decline.” Without any shame, Nolan lied right next Forde. Their bare shoulders were touching, but only one of them understood the implications,

“Nolan, do you remember what happened when we went camping that night?”

“I do not.”

“Yeah, I figured,” said Forde, preparing himself. His hand was trembling, and he was sweating all over. Why couldn’t he calm himself? “Could you… Could you do me a favor, br-brother…?” When Nolan said yes, Forde nearly sobbed. After a deep, uneven breath, he said, “Please, gather yourself in your host’s mouth. I have to show you something.”

Unquestionably, Nolan did so. He opened his mouth, the blue slime lying on top of his tongue. Even in that form, he looked completely innocent.

Forde ripped over the packet of salt and poured it on his own tongue, cringing from the taste. Then, he leaned over and kissed Nolan’s lips before swiftly drawing back, the aftertaste of the salt lingering in his now empty mouth. The effect was immediate.

Nolan’s body began to violently convulse. “Wh-What did you d-do?!” Nolan cried out, spitting out the salt and now bits of foam. “Br-Brother?!” His eyes rolled to the back of his head and spat out more and more foam—the remains of his desiccated body. Forde shut his eyes and covered his ears.

Just like snails and slugs, their species would dry out when their real forms were exposed to concentrated amounts of salt due to osmosis. Even though they originated from the ocean, the intense amount of salt would still kill them. It only due to Forde’s biology degree that he could figure that out. And because of that, he knew that there was a chance Alan didn’t know that, either. This was his only weapon… the only thing he had to stop the invasion.

And yet…

Forde jumped as Nolan grabbed his arm in desperation. He opened his eyes and the image burned itself into his memory. He was dying. Nolan, the slime, whatever, was dying. Because of him. Because of what Forde did. He’s just a parasite, a murderer, Forde kept thinking as the convulsing began to cease. “I had to, I had to...” he kept muttering to himself, even as tears trailed down his cheeks.

He was a murderer just like me.

Now, he was staring at Nolan’s still-breathing body. There was no life in his eyes, but his chest still rose and fell, and his mouth was still agape. The slime, his brother, was gone. And Nolan was gone too. Two more lives that Forde had snuffed out, and tomorrow he would have to do it again.

He tried to smile. “Nolan...” he said, embracing the brain-dead husk. “Nolan, Nolan… Nolan… I love you,” he said, caressing Nolan’s unmoving face. “I saved you, I did it… you’re okay now.” Forde pressed his face on Nolan’s left pectoral. His heart continued to beat despite how empty it was. “You’re free, you’re okay. I k-killed the parasite, I did it for you…! So, you’ll forgive me, right?” There was no response, no matter how much Forde pleaded. However, he continued. "Please, please tell me you'll forgive me. You and Forde will forgive me, right? Please, please, for the love of God, please help me...”

Neither God nor Nolan answered him that night.

#male possession #slime possession #DILF possession #eight cups a day #eight memories a minute

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trashcanfanfics · 3 years

Text

Request from @zebra0909zebra

"I loved the Valentino fic you made about the actor may I request one about Val either getting jealous of the readers ex trying to get back together with them and if he would just shoot them"

First off, thank you! I really enjoyed writing that fic! I'm glad you liked it!! Second, I can already see where to take this! And I'm excited

It's gonna be in Val's pov

Valentino and Y/n were walking along the hallways to the recording studio when an out of breath intern ran up, carrying a bouquet of flowers.

"Ah, Mx. Y/n! Someone left these for you in the lobby!" They handed Y/n the flowers, acknowledged Valentino, and then ran off again. They looked at the flowers, their favorites. A note amongst the foliage. The continued walking, Val being concious of his steps so they wouldn't have to rush to keep up with his long legs.

"Did you get me flowers again, Boss?" They grabbed the note and opened it. Val felt his blood boil and chest tighten.

"If I did, I would have sent them to your home," he chuckled, slightly annoyed. What kind of rude do you have to be to send such things to a workplace. Shameless. They hummed and read the note aloud. At this point, they both had stopped outside the studio.

"'To my dearest love, holder of my heart, I love you, signed E/n.'" There was a heart drawn underneath the message, Val noticed as he leaned down to look at the note. He memorized the name for later. Y/n sighed in slight annoyance. "It's my ex, (pronoun) has been texting me nonstop and giving me little gifts and it's getting irritating." Val let out a chuckle, his smile growing impossibly wide with malice.

"I do those things, too, you know." His smile was strained but his voice was light and playful. Y/n opened the door and they both went inside. He wasn't mad at them, never, but rather the flowers. Those pissed him off. Who did this shithead think (pronoun) was?!

"Yes, but you're my boss. I can't refuse those." Their tone told him he was joking, but he couldn't help the slight sting at those words. Their boss...That's all he was to them. He shoved those thoughts aside, ignoring the ache in his chest.

"You could, if you wanted to." He leaned down at the waist to look them in the eye, putting on a facade of amusement. he wouldn't let them be upset before the shoot, it makes their expressions all wrong. No, he would stuff down these emotions so they could focus on their work.

"'If I wanted to' my ass, you don't take 'no' for an answer." They laughed as they waved their hand to dismiss the thought. His gut twisted at the sound of their laughter. How beautiful that sound was! He loved it. He hummed in response, still slightly distracted by their laugh.

"That's true, babycakes." He stood up straight again and moved over to the cameramen. He began telling them the angles he wanted to acheive with this. Val always did this before any of the actors' shoots, but mainly Y/n's. He needed them to look their best no matter what, any unflattering angles are cut from the final product. Once everyone had understood, the scene began, Val watching over the entire thing, making sure it was all perfect, and ignoring the strain in his pants.

~*~

The video ended and Y/n, having put their clothes back on, got a call. Valentino watched as they picked up and spoke into the phone.

"Yes, I got them...No...I know...I don't care." They rolled their eyes and looked at Valentino. Y/n mimicked shooting themselves and he smiled and laughed lowly. "Listen, I'm at work right now and need to get back to it. Bye." They hung up and tossed their phone into their bag before zipping it up.

"Was that your little admirer?" Val couldn't help the bit of venom his his question. This cheeky shit was walking all over Val's territory and he hated it. They nodded with another eyeroll.

"Yes, (pronoun)'s so annoying! Like, we broke up MONTHS ago, ya know, get over it already." They slung their bag over their shoulder. "And besides, (pronoun) broke up with ME, like, come on!" They shook their head in exasperation. Valentino remembers the day the break up happened.

He hated the asshole back then, too. Y/n dating shocked him into realizing he was in love with them. He carefully bided his time, however, patiently waiting for Y/n to eventually break up with the loser. Unfortunately, it was the other way around and Y/n had come into the studio with puffy eyes and tears running down their cheeks. He doesn't remember why he didn't kill the bitch then, but he does remember holding the crying sweetheart with three of his arms while the fourth brushed through their hair. How soft it felt and how the ache in his chest worsened when they looked up at him with tears and explained what happened. And now (pronoun) wants them back?

Not on Val's watch.

~*~

Valentino saw to it that Y/n got home safe (and to make sure there weren't anymore gifts waiting for them) before he rolls up the window on the limo and gives the driver the location of E/n.

Earlier, he had some people find out where this scumbag lived so he could pay the little shit a visit. His connections didn't disappoint.

The limo stopped outside a little house. Normal, quaint. A white picket fence around the place, and rose bushes planted under the windows. The house, he noticed on his way past the gate, was a pretty mauve color, not too dull, not too bright. Y/n must've enjoyed this house when they visited. It suits their dream of a peaceful living. The door was a creamy pink, the knob a lovely bronze. Maybe he would buy this piece of property and give it to Y/n after he had it cleaned of all the blood that was going to spill.

He could see it now, him coming in the front door, just like he was now, a smile on his face. Y/n would be reading one of their little thriller books on the couch over there, though it'd be a different one. The furniture in here was tacky, white couches? That's just inviting a mess. Valentino shook his head, continuing with his fantasy, walking into the place. He'd have the ceilings fixed higher so he wouldn't have to crouch, they would greet him with that pretty little smile. The book would be set aside as they stood to come give him a welcome home kiss. He sighed at the thought of their soft lips against his.

Yes, he decided, he would buy this house and give it to his little babycakes. They deserved to have a lovely house than that dingy apartment anyhow. He made his way towards the hallway, having little interest in the kitchen. The hallway, like the living room now that he thinks about it, was full of framed pictures of E/n and Y/n. None of the pictures have Y/n's real smile, just the one they use for their acting, real enough, but once you see the true one you can easily tell the difference.

The bathroom and guest rooms were overlooked in favor of the master bedroom. It had the same tackiness the livingroom had. White sheets to match the loveseat and arm chair. Awful. The wood was even a brightly polished makore wood that looked orange in the light. Yes, the furniture would have to go. He made his way over to the closet, maybe find a few skeletons? The opened door revealed a collage. They were all pictures of Y/n from various angles. Ah, he thought, a stalker. It was a good thing Val had decided to take (pronoun) out before things got out of hand.

Speak of the devil, the nusiance walked through the front door. Valentino smiled viciously as he made his way quietly back down the hall. E/n went to the kitchen, no matter, (pronoun)'ll be out soon. He sat down on the loveseat facing the front window, lifting his feet onto the coffee table, and pulled out a cigarette. The smell of burning tobacco must have alerted the stalker, as he walked out to see Valentino let out a puff of red smoke.

"What the fuck?!" (Pronoun) dropped (pronoun)'s items, which happened to be a glass of apple juice by the smell. How childish. Valentino stood, pulling the cigarette from his lips.

"Hello, E/n," he puffed out more smoke from his pink teeth, "nice to finally put a face to the name." His chuckle was anything but friendly. It intimidated the pathetic demon, Val could tell. Good. He took another puff.

"Uh, hey..." E/n trailed off while staring at the tall overlord, who blew out more red smoke. A visible gulp would have given his fear away if the look in his eyes didn't already. "Wh-what's up?" Val could almost respect the way (pronoun) tried to keep talking, as if (pronoun) did nothing wrong.

"Oh, Y/n sent me. They say you've been sending them flowers, little gifts." He stepped closer, threateningly, putting the cancer stick back between his teeth. "Apologies, phone calls, love notes, promises you couldn't possibly keep." Val stood in front of the creep, towering over the quaking being with a cruel smile, smoke still floating off the cigarette.

"O-oh? Uh..." The attempt was almost laughable. Val leaned down, his lower right hand reaching into his coat to pull out his pistol as he blew more smoke into E/n's face, causing him to cough and gag. The lower demon's eyes follow the movement and grow wide at the sight of the weapon.

"And," He pointed the gun at E/n's head, "not to mention that collage on the inside of your closet door, how charming." Val's smile became a sneer, ashes falling off the cigarette. (Pronoun) whimpered as the gun pressed into E/n's forehead.

"What are you-what are you gonna do to me?" The question was so stupid, Val almost burst into laughter right then.

"Normally, I wouldn't give a damn what you would do to my employees as long as they were able to still work. However, you chose to fuck with my favorite actor." He breathed out the last bit of smoke, putting out the butt on the asshole's arm, making (pronoun) yelp in pain. "So, I'm going to just kill you." and with that, he pulled the trigger. Blood, brain, and bone exploded from the back of the fucker's head , splattering across the wall and kitchen floor. Valentino stood up as much as he could. He really needed to fix these ceilings.

"No one fucks with my favorite."

#hazbin hotel x reader #valentino x reader #tw: gore #trashcan answers you #babycakes

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m-y-fandoms · 4 years

Text

COMMISSION: Joker/Akira/Ren x Reader Part 1

Thank you to the client for commissioning me! This is gonna be a long one! I love Joker and Persona 5 is my second favorite fandom after Danganronpa! Exctied to be working on this.

Around 2.6k words, SFW, SLOW BURN romance friends to lovers, gender neutral reader, anyone can enjoy it and place themselves as the reader! - Admin Myah

Shujin Academy could be silent as the grave in the earliest hours of the morning, and yet seem so deafening. It was almost guaranteed that at least thirty new rumors were spreading throughout the student body at any given time, and the overwhelmingly hostile environment that created made the air heavy. With all the teenage angst, hormones, hatred, circles of venomous malice, it was no wonder so many loners could be spotted on academy grounds. That’s just how it was at Shujin: you either had a clique, or you had no one. It was no surprise, then, that you simply kept your head down, minded your business, and got to know no one. Miraculously, though, gossip abound about you still, at least two or three preposterous examples of hearsay and stories. But hey, what could you do? That was in all actuality, pretty low for a single Shujin student. God help the students who actually did make their opinions known, express themselves through clothing and cosmetics, and dared to swim against the current.

You shuffled through the first floor, the absolute blandness of that April morning perpetuating your usual routine: arrive at Shujin, check your locker, scribble down any notes and ideas that came to you in your dreams last night to put into your next short story, and of course check for new posts in the group chat, where your only friends resided. You wouldn’t be caught dead associating with anyone here at the school, it would simply be mental and social suicide, and quite frankly, you didn’t have the constitution for that.

Peeking up for a split second to avoid any collisions, you quickly slid to the left and ducked into a nearby alcove, successfully escaping the gaze of the oncoming wall of muscle and testosterone that was Coach Kamoshida, the plague of Shujin Academy. It was the best case scenario that Kamoshida remained ignorant to one’s very existence, for even those on his good side suffered the consequences. He strode by, shoulders wide and chest puffed out, scanning the halls for girls to harass or boys to intimidate, and once the coast was clear and he was a safe distance away, his back facing you, you dipped back out of the rather dusty corridor and back into the light, immediately slipping back into an almost mechanical daily ritual. It took mere seconds: phone screen unlocked, group chat opened, notebook slipped snuggly back under armpit.

“C’mon, man!” An obnoxiously loud voice rang out above the typical tinnitus-like buzz of the hallway, and suddenly your shoulder was thrust forward, body flying to the ground with a forceful shove on the shoulder.

“Aaagh!” Your voice cracked as your knees buckled and you collided roughly with the wooden panels below, your smartphone soaring out of your grip and clinking against the floor. Thank goodness your notebook was safe, at the very least. People gasped and turned to look at the spectacle, including Kamoshida himself, who’d just reached the end of the hall.

“Sakamoto! I see you running in the halls again, I’ll write you up!” He just always had to say something, let the general student body know he was in charge. He cared far more about sounding rough and tough than making sure the student who was just steam-rolled was uninjured. He pointed directly at you and the student that had just dashed by, effectively pummeling you to the ground with a shoulder check. You looked up and just ahead of you, Ryuji Sakamoto was pivoting on one foot, ignoring Kamoshida’s threat entirely to catch his breath and look down at his victim, splayed across the floor.

Ryuji Sakamoto, now that was one of those students mentioned earlier, the kind that dyed his hair, customized his uniform, and didn’t take shit from anyone. He was a pariah, pretty much the opposite of the teacher’s pet… teacher’s pest more like. Sakamoto was the subject of many falsehoods and conjectures, and he was sure to be trouble for anyone associated…

You looked him up and down, halting your unflattering and socially-altered thoughts in their tracks. Didn’t wanna become the very thing you hated. There was no reason to judge Ryuji without first-hand proof.

“Woah! My bad, sorry dude!” He held up one hand submissively, but unfortunately, just as with Kamoshida, it seemed that you were not his main concern either. Huffing and puffing from the sprint, he looked past you to another male student who was hot on his trail, but this one looked… different.

You’d gone to Shujin Academy for all of your high-school career. It was your third and final year before graduation, and you knew of Sakamoto well enough, but this kid was a mystery… was he new here? He must’ve been. You knew at least the face of every student here in some way or another just through Shujin’s own little eternal game of telephone, and not by any choice of your own. You actively removed yourself from the local goings-on. Was it his first day here, you wondered. Why hadn’t you heard gossip about him yet, especially looking the way he did?

Beauty was a curse - much like any other feature that stood out - at Shujin Academy. If you were too pretty or handsome, you must be sexually promiscuous. On the other hand, if you were too ugly, too nerdy, too quiet, you probably picked your nose and read hentai on the train. There was no winning in this soul-crushing wasteland. Unfortunately for this new-comer, he was outrageously gorgeous.

“Gah, sorry about that…” he sighed, slowing his pace as he passed you by, plucking your phone up from the ground and offering you his hand. You took it and stood with his help. A quick tug and you were to your feet, dusting off your uniform and thanking him for his assistance. “Yeah, no problem… Ryuji’s just… a bit eager I suppose” he chuckled. “Luckily, no cracks!” He turned your phone around in his hand before placing it back into yours.

“Isn’t that the transfer student??? I heard he nearly killed a man!” One random NPC-esque shithead whispered from behind.

“Oh God, figures that freak would gravitate to the new freak…” another responded.

Ah… and there it was. Why did fate hate you so much that it chose you as Sakamoto’s door mat on this day? You truly must have been fortune’s fool.

“Yeah, good thing…” You eyed the boy before you, taking in what you could of the new student before the short exchange was over, from his face to the delicate yet thick veins protruding from his lithe hands.

He was tall and thin, and would even be considered lanky if not for the lean muscle that lined his frame. He seemed to be better off than the average teen, sporting almost no blemishes or imperfections on his smooth skin. A black, messy mop of hair that looked soft to the touch sat upon his head, falling into his eyes and over the dark frames of his distinct spectacles. These spectacles did nothing to hide the true elegance that gleamed in the eyes behind them. They were a muted, soft grey that was beautifully simple and clean. His uniform was neat and tidy - as opposed to his blonde and brash acquaintance’s - with his pristine white turtleneck gently blanketing a quite prominent Adam’s apple and his school jacket buttoned and ironed perfectly. Lower down, his plaid slacks concealed thighs that strained against the fabric and long legs that ran down into some very - yet again - flawless dress shoes. Yep, that was a brand new uniform, sure enough.

And a brand new student… he just might make a good subject, a new inspiration for your writing, an aura unmarred by the stain this place put on one’s soul. Your opinion of him was fresh, it was new, unaltered, unbiased, and he really was quite beautiful… your mind played with the thought.

“Ah… sorry about this,” he spoke, taking in the whispers all around you, “I probably just ruined your reputation, what with being seen with me an’ all,” he sighed and laughed breathily, a hint of exhaustion in his voice. He must’ve been keen to the ways of Shujin already, which was super sad in its own right. “I’m Akira by the way,” he held out a hand, and you shook it hesitantly.

“Eh, doesn’t really bother me. It’s (Y/N), nice to meet you. Sorry you’re feeling the Shujin warm welcome.” That first part was only partly true, but the last half was genuine.

“Anyway…” his voice shook you back out of your contemplative reverie, and you came back to reality to find him also looking you over. Oh right… you were new to him as well… “I gotta go, Ryuji is kind of impatient, I’ve found.”

“Hey! Am not!” Ryuji retorted, brows furrowing before he ran off. Akira’s eyes rolled playfully, before he smiled, waved, and sped off.

You nodded, and quickly pulled out your phone, rushing to the glass doors leading to the courtyard. Anything to get out of the spotlight and harsh crowd of stares, plus, you had a sparkling new idea filling up your cranium, and artistic inspiration could not be wasted. Finding one of the benches placed for student recreation, you set down your school bag and impatiently scrambled for your favorite pen, throwing open your notebook.

“Oh, shoot!” You’d gotten ahead of yourself in all the excitement. Placing the moleskin down, you picked up your phone, hands trembling just a bit, and messaged you friends before anything else. They just had to hear about this.

＊

(Y/N) 9:55 am: Guys guys guys!!!

Itsuki 9:56 am: What do you want?

Rin 9:56 am: ???

Megumi 9:57 am: Shouldn’t you be in class?

(Y/N) 9:57 am: Shut up I have a free period just listen

You know how I’ve been having writer’s block?

Rin 9:58 am: Ya

(Y/N) 9:58 am: Well I just met this new kid, and ideas just started FLOWING.

Itsuki 9:59 am: Yeah

Megumi 9:59 am: Yeah we remember nerd

Oh that’s great!

Wait what do you mean?

New kid?

Only we can have you 😭 Don’ go switching up on us. Shujin is

toxic anyway.

(Y/N) 10:01 am: No no no It’s not like we’re friends, I just met him is all

You know you’re my one and only bby 😘

Itsuki 10:01 am: New kid???

Megumi 10:01 am: 😎

Itsuki 10:02 am: Gross

Also what about me!!!!

Rin 10:02 am: Me too 😡😡😡

(Y/N) 10:03 am: You two know you’re included in that???? 🤔🙄

Anyway just listen

I think he may be good inspo for my main character!!!

I was stuck looking for a unique look or face claim or something

But he seems nice enough and he’s good looking!

Itsuki 10:05 am: You got a crush? Awww I’m telling 😏😏😏😏

(Y/N) 10:05 am: I swear it’s like we haven’t been friends for years…

You know me, PLEASE don’t be gross

Writing purposes ONLY

Megumi 10:06 am: I thought you were stuck on the CONTENT, not characters and shit

(Y/N) 10:06 am: Both!!!! But he’s perfect for the look of my protag

Itsuki 10:06 am: 😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

Megumi 10:07 am: Well I’m happy for you

STOP

Itsuki 10:07 am: 😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

Rin 10:07 am: 😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

(Y/N) 10:08 am: I can see this conversation isn’t going to be productive

LMAO you’re assholes

＊

You tucked your phone into your pocket and once again picked up your notebook. Scrawling down some of the details you knew about Akria: his looks, the sound of his voice, the way he carried himself, you quickly became aware that you knew far too little… or rather

You wanted to know more.

Standing, you packed your things and set out to find him again…

Not in the creepy way! You thought to yourself, trying to justify this uncharacteristic choice of yours to actually reach out to someone in real life, to maybe… try to make… friends? You stood there, brows furrowed and a small frown on your face, pondering your options.

“Oh well, all artists must suffer for their work!” You resolved a little too promptly to try to force another encounter with the new kid. He seemed to be special, unique. He seemed to be well aware of the social hierarchy of Shujin, and have a distaste of it at least. Maybe he wouldn’t be… so bad?

Making up your mind, you spent your free period not writing of romance and rebellious characters, but searching for that fluffy-headed newfound hero to your story, however ghoulish and greasy that made you appear. You truly were becoming that “reads-hentai-on-the-train” and stalks cute boys freak your peers thought people like you were, weren’t you?

To your surprise (though maybe it shouldn’t have been surprising with the volume of Sakamoto’s voice) you soon found the gaggle of second-years, model-status beauty Ann Takamaki now added to their number, standing next to the stairs on the third floor, looking quite conspicuous to boot. Noting the suspicious air around the three, you pulled back, hiding behind the corner leading down the next hall. They seemed on edge... maybe now wasn’t the best time to make friends…?

You felt something thump in your chest. Your shoulders sank subconsciously. It felt a little disappointing, disheartening in a way you couldn’t explain. It was a bit intimidating: Ryuji the loudmouth with a temper, the hottest girl in the school, and the cute new kid. You sighed, this was why you never tried to make friends in the first place. Why had you even gotten your hopes up?

These irrational feelings of self-doubt clouded your heart, your head knowing better of course. It was hard to fight thoughts like these, especially for someone like you. On the precipice of making up your mind, deciding to give up and scrap the new novel idea altogether, you were jolted to attention by the sound of shoes scuffling and scrambling up the stairs.

Students aren’t really allowed on the rooftop during school hours unless accompanied by a teacher or given express permission, your thoughts swarmed. Maybe they didn’t know? No, there’s no way. There’s a possibility Akira didn’t know, but Ann and Ryuji had been here for two years... What were they up to?

Your nosiness was regrettably getting the better of you, and you slithered over, careful to pad your steps and tread softly. You didn’t even know what you’d do once you’d cornered the trio on the roof, didn’t know what you’d say. What was there to say? You were never too good with words, that is those not written on paper. Your heart beating out of your chest, you climbed the narrow stairwell and threw open the doors to the roof.

“Huh?” You looked around, dumbfounded. “Hello?” The rooftop area was not that large, all parts of it visible from the door.

There was no one to be found.

“What the hell?” You step forward, thinking you must have been the subject of some prank, but no, upon looking around, all three students were gone without a trace. No school bags, no lunch boxes, no uniform pieces, nothing. Akira, Ryuji, and Ann, all vanished into thin air. There were no hiding spots, none big enough for three people at least. It was dead silent, and only the door you currently guarded provided an exit off of the roof. Your mind wanted to wander to darker places, but if they’d have jumped, there surely would’ve been a commotion either during or shortly after. Frantically, you looked around, feeling like you were going crazy.

“What the fuck?” You pressed the palm of one hand to your forehead, sitting on the ground and crossing your legs.

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live-love-laugh-lesbian · 3 years

Text

Bloom

Okay, I had to split the first chapter into two. @simplestoryteller, you were interested? And @scenecipriano helped with writing Remus!

I’m using this rpg to write this, which is exciting!! - https://litzabronwyn.itch.io/bloom

I highly suggest checking it out, it’s so good!

Anyways, content warnings: Horror, gore, medical shit, body horror, Remus being weird and making references to sex, illness.

Remus, Virgil and Janus are 18, and it’s set in a British School - ages 11 to 18.

Roman and Emile will be 15, Logan 18, Remy 17, and Patton 14. Just so you’re aware!

Remember, this is a horror story. It may well not end happily. People may die. Be aware.

Day One

Usually, waking up early in the morning to the sound of your classmate screaming would be alarming, and shocking to say the least. But Janus had long since gotten used to it. A year ago he had been upright immediately every time, but now all he found himself doing was glancing at the bolted shut window.

It was still dark, with the moon glaring through, illuminating the screaming student in a sickly light.

Janus didn’t know them, they were in one of the younger years, and simply moved in whilst their roommate was in the sick bay. The boy had long tendrils of vines and leaves forcing their way out of one ear, slowly twisting and turning as they did.

The boy howls, screams again, and sobs as he convulses, and when he calls for his mother in a hoarse pleading voice, Janus hears Virgil awake and go to comfort him. Perhaps just as well, because neither Janus or Remus, the only other inhabitants of this room, were much good at comforting.

Hell, when Remus’ younger brother’s legs began to fuse into a long scaly snake-like tail, Remus had simply stared. Even Remus, who usually had so many disgusting and awful things to say, seemed unable to process the horror of it all.

Janus looks away from the boy when the tendrils begin to tangle into his hair, when the boy goes limp before another convulsion, one that creates a scream that comes to a stop with a screech.

He breathes deeply as agonizing sounds rip through the air. He couldn’t let himself get bothered by it.

Eventually he falls asleep, his dreams plagued by endless tormented screaming.

When Janus awoke the kid wasn’t around, but Remus and Virgil were both already awake. Well, Janus wasn’t sure if Virgil had actually slept. He was paler than usual, and the dark sunken eyes he’d developed made him look endlessly tired.

“You look great this morning,” Janus says dryly, but not with malice.

Virgil rolls his eyes, and goes to speak only to be cut off.

“You look like you were kept up all night riding a spiky dick!” laughs Remus.

“Shut up both of you,” Virgil scowls but then huffs, slumping slightly as he explains that he hadn’t slept, because eventually he had to take the boy to the medical bay.

For a moment none of them speak.

“I’m sure he’ll be okay,” Janus lies, and switches his focus easily to survival. “We should get breakfast. And maybe a shower for you, Virgil.”

There wasn’t much electricity anymore, but the water ran, and there was enough to power showers and the essentials. Although all three missed their social media accounts. Why, Virgil’s tumblr of conspiracy theories was so dead by now it likely had become a conspiracy by itself.

“Yeah, that...might help…”

Remus ruffles Virgil’s hair, causing it to frizz and fluff up, and laughs when Virgil protests.

“Come on, Virgey ya gotta loosen up! Ya know, like I do when it’s a good night!” Remus teases, “come on, I got something special that will cheer you up - both of you!”

Fascinated, the two watch as he wriggles under his bunk, almost climbing fully into the small space, before coming out, his sharp quill-like hair dusty until he shakes it off.

“Here!” Janus’ eyes widen and Virgil gasps as Remus holds out a single milk chocolate bar.

“When did you get that?!” Janus demands, and lowers his voice, “Remus, there is no way you got that easily-”

“I didn’t - had to fight off Logan for it-” Remus trails off suddenly before forcing himself to perk up slightly. “Besides! It’ll make our threesome ten times as sweet!”

Janus watches Virgil glance to the door nervously, and then to the chocolate. Janus’ stomach growls, and he hates to admit he can’t bring himself to think of the others right now. It was him, Virgil and Remus, and so long as they were okay, everything would be okay…

“Well…” Virgil bites his lip and pulls his hands from his too-big hoodie. “...I do want a piece-”

And so it was decided.

Remus was right, they did deserve this. The last year had been something of a nightmare. Ever since the Tox set in…

Right, the Tox. Janus doubted anyone outside the uninhabited island the school was based in, that wasn’t military or a politician, knew about it. A terrible plague that changed things. Animals and plants and even the students.

For some reason, the adults simply fell ill, and the younger kids were worst affected. Their friend Emile had suggested it was to do with puberty. But nonetheless, one by one people died, were still dying, and they had but two teachers, and maybe half the population of the school left.

The changes were painful. Janus had developed scales over one half of his face that itched so much he wanted to rip them off the first few weeks. But like Remus had gotten used to his new “hair”, and Virgil his sunken eyes, he learned to deal with it and ignore the itching.

He could deal with a lot.

But…

“Remus, you have a fever,” Janus tells him bluntly, looking at the thermometer carefully.

“Nah, I’m fine!” Remus insists, waving his hands, “In fact! I’m so fine that I’m sure a mountain lion would take me as it’s mate and remind me who I belong to!”

“That’s gross,” Virgil remarks, face scrunching, “what the fuck Remus?”

“Yes, Remus,” Janus chooses to ignore that statement, “40.3 degrees is an amazing temperature. Definitely not something to worry about!”

“It’s fine. What can I even do? Ask a doctor for help? Last I checked they’re all taking turns eating each other’s hearts! ” Remus almost snaps, his quills spiking up.

“No!” Virgil pauses to breathe, trying to calm himself, “just…” Virgil flaps his hands, clasping his fingers together then unclasping them. “Just rest, okay?”

“If you get ill they’ll send you straight there.” Janus points out, “...so yes, just rest.”

Remus makes a loud indignant noise and throws himself back on his bed, somehow missing his pillow and instead smacking his head on the wall behind.

“Dork,” Virgil says with a suppressed chuckle.

“Did you know-”

“Yes we know it means whale penis!”

#tw horror #tw body horror #tw gore #tw medical #tw illness #tw plague #sanders sides #remus sanders #janus sanders #virgil sanders #ts fic #horror fic #bloom #ts

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