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genderlessdude92 · 1 month ago

Text

The Static She Loves

PAIRING: ALASTOR X F!READER

SUMMARY: Y/N and Alastor navigate a tumultuous relationship marked by Alastor’s inner demons and his fear of vulnerability. After an intense argument and a moment of emotional and physical connection, Y/N’s unwavering love forces Alastor to confront his self-loathing and open up to her support. Despite the chaos surrounding them, their bond grows stronger as they choose to face their fears and flaws together.

WARNINGS: MAJOR ANGST TO FLUFF/SMUT, Straight up explicit content, Emotional theme, Alastor, Already in a relationship, Arguments, Violence, Toxic Relationship Dynamics (not entirely though), Self doubt, Strong language, Slight mental health triggers, Hell, A LITTLEEEE BITTT ooc Alastor…ur mom idk bye OH fic is 4.3k words

NOTICE: please don’t copy or steal or translate any of my work or you will be haunted in your dreams and i will spawn something unpleasant at your porch the next day. But…thanks for liking my work !! >.<

Requests are open, Support is highly appreciated!

〰ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ ..。.:*･ﾟ♫₊ ♪ *♬‧₊enjoy!~

The door to Alastor’s shared room creaked open, and Y/N stepped tentatively inside, her eyes scanning the dimly lit space. The room was a reflection of its inhabitant: chaotic yet strangely charming, with a certain charm that could only be attributed to Alastor's peculiar sense of order. The flickering lights of the Hazbin Hotel cast an eerie glow across the cluttered shelves and the large, inviting bed in the center of the room. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the conversation she knew was to come.

Alastor and Y/N, earlier, had gotten into an argument about how Alastor had been recklessly pushing Y/N away due to his “personal affairs” out in hell and whatnot. He had not been letting Y/N into his…heart, trully.

Alastor looked up from his seat near the bayou, his expression a maelstrom of emotions. She could see the turmoil in his eyes, the war between his fears and the love he felt for her. He was a creature of darkness, and yet she saw the flicker of hope that she brought to him, the light that made him question his very nature.

The silence stretched taut between them, the air thick with the scent of rain and the electric charge of their emotions. Y/N watched as Alastor struggled with the tumult within him, his eyes flickering with the same chaotic energy that danced around the room.

Finally, he spoke, his voice raw with vulnerability. “You don’t know what you’re asking, Y/N. If I let you in, you might not like what you see. I’ve done terrible things—things that could never be undone.”

Y/N’s eyes searched his, her resolve unshaken. “Alastor, I know you’re not perfect. Neither am I. But that’s what makes us who we are, and I still choose to love you. I want to be there for you, to help you carry the weight of your past. We all have our demons. I just want to be your angel in this messed-up situation of ours.”

Alastor’s expression softened at her words, the static in his eyes fading slightly. “You’re too good for me,” he murmured, his hand reaching out to cup her cheek. His touch was gentle, a stark contrast to the power that surged within him.

“Maybe I am, but that’s not for you to decide,” she said, leaning into his touch. “I choose to love you, flaws and all. Now, tell me what’s been going on with you. I can handle it, I promise.”

Alastor took a deep breath, his eyes searched hers for any sign of doubt or fear. But all he found was the warmth of her love, unyielding and unconditional. He sighed, the weight of his secrets heavy on his chest. “You know I’ve been dealing with my past in the mortal world. But what you don’t know is that I’ve also been dealing with the repercussions here, in Hell.”

The words hung in the air, thick and heavy like the humidity outside the Hotel. Y/N felt her heart clench with a mix of worry and curiosity. “What do you mean?” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the distant sounds of The crickets in the Bayou.

Alastor's grip on her cheek tightened for a moment before he let go, his hand dropping to his side. He took a step back, pacing the room, his tail flicking restlessly behind him. "The sins of my past, the ones I've been trying to atone for... They're not just haunting me, they're becoming a part of my present. Someone's been stirring up trouble, bringing up things I've long buried." He looked at her sternly, “You will, however, not get into my business.”

Y/N's eyes searched his, seeing the turmoil bubbling just beneath the surface. "But Alastor, I care about you. I want to help," she pleaded, her voice soft and steady. "We're in this together."

He stopped pacing, his gaze locking onto hers with an intensity that made her breath catch in her throat. "You don't understand," he said, his voice gruff with emotion. "The things I've done, the lives I've ruined... It's not just about facing the consequences. It's about not letting you get caught up in it all."

Y/N stepped closer to him, reaching out to grasp his hand. "I do understand," she said firmly. "And I'm not going anywhere. We can face this together."

Alastor's expression remained torn, his eyes flickering between doubt and hope. "What if I'm too much for you?" he whispered, the static in his voice crackling with fear.

"I'll always be here, no matter what," Y/N assured him, her grip on his hand tightening. "I love you, and I want to help you through this."

Alastor closed his eyes, the warmth of her touch seeping into his very soul. He knew she meant every word, and it was both terrifying and exhilarating. For so long, he had been alone, wielding his power with a reckless abandon that had left a trail of destruction in his wake. The thought of losing her, of her seeing the true monster within him, was almost too much to bear.

Suddenly, his eyes snapped open, and he stepped back, his hand sliding from hers. "No," he said, his voice shaking with the effort of holding back his emotions. "You can't handle it, Y/N. I can't let you be part of this."

The words hit her like a slap, and she felt her eyes well with tears. "Alastor, please," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I want to help you."

But the radio demon just shook his head, his eyes filled with a pain that was palpable. "You don't know what you're asking," he said, his voice heavy with regret. "I've hurt people before, Y/N. I don't want to hurt you too."

The air grew thick with tension as Y/N took a step back, her hand falling to her side. "Then tell me," she demanded, her voice shaking. "Let me in, Alastor. I'm not going anywhere."

Alastor's eyes narrowed, the shadows in the room seeming to pulse with his growing anger. "You don't know what you're talking about," he spat, the static around him growing louder. "You're just a foolish little angel, playing with fire."

Y/N's eyes flashed, her determination unyielding. "I'm not just playing, Alastor! I love you, and I want to be with you, through everything!" she yelled back, her voice echoing off the walls.

"You don't know what you're saying!" Alastor's voice grew louder, his fists clenching at his sides. "You think you can just waltz in here and save me? I'm beyond saving!" The static in the room grew to a deafening roar, the shadows around him dancing with malevolent intent.

Y/N's eyes filled with tears as she shouted back, "I know what I'm saying! And I know that you're worth fighting for, even if you can't see it!"

Alastor's form grew more tense, his shadows swirling in agitation. "You think you can just fix me, don't you? Make all the bad things go away?" His voice was laced with anger and a hint of desperation, the static in his eyes crackling like a live wire, “You don’t get it, Y/N! I’m not some broken toy you can mend with a band-aid and a kiss!”

Y/N’s eyes were filled with a fiery determination. "I'm not trying to fix you, Alastor! I just want to be here for you!" she shouted, taking another step closer. "You're not a monster to me!"

The room trembled with the intensity of their argument, the very fabric of hell seeming to pulse with the emotions that surged between them. Alastor's eyes grew wide with fear, his shadows swelling in size. "Back away," he roared, his voice thundering like a beast's growl.

Y/N didn't flinch. "No, Alastor! You're not going to push me away again!" she screamed, her voice strong despite the tremble in her chest. She stepped closer, her eyes blazing with a fierce love that was met with his own fiery anger.

The shadows grew, stretching from the corners of the room to wrap around them, the air charged with the static of his power. "You don't get it!" he bellowed, his eyes flashing with a mix of pain and anger. "You're too good for this, for me!"

Without warning, a jolt of energy shot from Alastor's hand, slamming into the wall behind Y/N. The impact sent a shower of plaster raining down, and she stumbled, a cry escaping her lips as she was thrown backward. She felt a searing pain as one of the shadows lashed out, catching her arm and leaving a smoldering trail of agony in its wake.

Alastor's eyes widened in horror as he saw what he had done. The static in the room grew deafening, his power spiraling out of control as he rushed to her side. "Y/N!" he shouted, his voice cracking with fear and guilt.

Y/N lay on the bed, her arm seared by the shadow's touch, her body trembling with shock. She looked up at him, her eyes wide with terror, and he could see the doubt in her gaze. He had hurt her, and it was the last thing he ever wanted. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the roar of the static.

Gently, Alastor cradled her in his arms, his own form quaking with the effort of holding back the power that threatened to consume him. He tried to soothe her, stroking her hair and whispering apologies, his touch as tender as a feather. He knew he had to leave, to protect her from the monster that lived within him, but the thought of letting her go was unbearable.

The truth was, though, her unspoken truth, was that she understood why he freaked out.

She could never get mad at him…yet there he is…thinking she hates him for than the cause of her death. He was wrong, she wasn't mad. She was terrified. Terrified that he would push her away again. Terrified that she had lost him forever. Her eyes searched his, looking for any hint of the love she knew was there, but all she saw was fear and doubt.

Her voice trembled as she spoke, "Alastor, please don't go."

He hesitated, his grip tightening around her, but the fear in her eyes was unmistakable. He knew he had to give her space, to let her heal from the pain he had caused. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice thick with regret. "I'll just make it worse if I stay."

Gently, he placed her on the bed, the mattress groaning beneath their combined weight. She watched him, her eyes brimming with unshed tears, as he took a step back. Each inch that grew between them felt like a mile, a chasm of doubt and fear threatening to swallow them whole. He reached for her hand, giving it a squeeze before letting go. "I'll be back," he promised, though the words sounded hollow even to his own ears.

Then and there, he left for his office.

(σ´∀`)σ . . .

The Evening After . . .

Y/N stood in the hallway, the walls seemingly closing in around her. The silence was deafening, a stark contrast to the tumult of emotions raging within her. She had never felt so alone, so unsure. But she knew she had to face Alastor, had to bridge the chasm that had opened up between them. She took a deep breath and raised her hand to knock on the door to his office.

The wood was cool to the touch, a stark reminder of the coldness that had settled between them. She listened, her heart pounding in her chest, and after a moment, she heard a faint click. The door creaked open, revealing the dimly lit room beyond. Alastor's shadow loomed large, a silent sentinel that stepped aside to allow her entry. She swallowed hard and stepped into the lion's den, her eyes immediately seeking out the radio demon who had become so much more than just a roommate to her.

He was sitting at his desk, his back to her, the glow of a single candle casting deep shadows across his broad shoulders. The sight of him, so strong yet so tormented, filled her with a fierce determination to show him that she was not afraid, that she was not going anywhere. "Alastor," she said softly, her voice barely carrying across the space.

He tensed, the muscles in his back rippling like the surface of a lake disturbed by a thrown stone. "What do you want?" he asked, his tone gruff, his voice heavy with the weight of the guilt that had been consuming him since their argument.

Y/N closed the door behind her, her footsteps echoing in the quiet space. She took a tentative step forward, her eyes never leaving his silhouette. "I just want to talk," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "About what happened last night."

Alastor's shoulders slumped, but he didn't turn around. "There's nothing to talk about," he replied, his voice tight. "I hurt you, and I'm sorry. But that's just who I am."

Y/N felt a surge of frustration mixed with love for this stubborn, complex man. She walked up to him and placed her hand gently on his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath her fingertips. "Alastor, that's not all you are," she said firmly. "You're also the one who has shown me kindness in this hellish place, who has made me feel seen and heard, and who has made me feel alive again."

He flinched at her touch, and she knew she had hit a nerve. For a moment, she feared she had pushed too hard. But then, slowly, he turned to face her, his eyes searching hers for any hint of anger or judgment. All he found was love and determination. "How can you still care for me after what I did?" he asked, his voice a rough whisper.

Y/N took a deep breath, her heart racing as she met his gaze. "Because love isn't about ignoring the bad, Alastor. It's about seeing the good and choosing to stand by someone's side, no matter what," she replied, her voice steady and strong. "You're not a monster to me. You're the one who's been there for me when no one else was."

Alastor's eyes searched hers, his expression a tumultuous storm of emotions. "But what if I can't control it?" he whispered, his fear palpable. "What if I hurt you again?"

Y/N stepped closer, her hand sliding down his arm to grasp his hand. "You won't," she said with absolute certainty. "Because you don't want to. And I trust you."

The words seemed to resonate within him, his eyes flickering with a mix of disbelief and something that looked suspiciously like hope. He didn't pull away from her touch, but instead, his grip tightened. "You shouldn't," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "But I'm... I'm not going to push you away anymore."

“Thank you…Alastor.” Y/N’s voice was soft, but firm. She knew he was struggling, but she also knew that she wasn’t going anywhere. She saw the war playing out on his face, the battle between his fear and his love. For a long moment, they just stood there, hands entwined, the air between them crackling with tension.

Alastor signaled for a touch of there foreheads, the static in the air fading slightly as he took a deep, shaky breath. "I just don't want to lose you," he confessed, his voice a ragged whisper. "You're the only thing that's ever made me feel...less monstrous."

And then their lips crashed together, a fierce, desperate kiss that spoke of love, of longing, of fear and regret. The room seemed to fade away around them, leaving only the warmth of their bodies and the rapid beating of their hearts. Y/N's hand slid up to cup his cheek, her thumb tracing the line of his jaw as she deepened the kiss, her tongue tangling with his in a silent promise to never leave.

Alastor picked Y/N up, causing her to yell as he strides over to the couch in the studio, laying her down gently. His eyes never leave hers, his expression one of fierce determination. He knew that he couldn’t push her away anymore, that she deserved to be loved and cherished, no matter his fears.

Their kiss grew more frantic as the tension of the past few days melted away. Y/N could feel the love in every stroke of his tongue, every touch of his hand. She moaned into his mouth, her hips arching up to meet his, desperate for more. Alastor's hands roamed her body, leaving trails of fire in their wake, as if he was trying to brand her as his own.

!!SMUTTTTTT ALERT!!

Alastor's grip on her tightened as his kiss grew more insistent, his tongue seeking hers with a passion that left Y/N breathless. She melted into his embrace, her body responding to the heat that radiated from him. His hand slid down her side, tracing the curve of her hip, and she gasped as he cupped her thigh, his fingers pressing gently. She could feel the tension in his muscles, the power that thrummed beneath the surface, and it only served to excite her more.

Their kiss grew more urgent, their breaths mingling as they devoured one another. Y/N reached up to tug at the hem of his shirt, desperate to feel the warmth of his skin beneath her fingertips. He chuckled, a low rumble in his chest, and pulled back just enough to allow her to lift it over his head. His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of her, her skin flushed and her chest heaving with desire.

With trembling hands, she unbuttoned her own shirt, letting it fall away to expose her bare chest. Alastor’s gaze roamed over her, his pupils dilating with hunger. He leaned down to kiss her neck, his teeth grazing her sensitive skin. A thrill ran through her, and she arched into the touch, her eyes fluttering shut. His hands slid up her body, cupping her breasts gently before his thumbs began to tease her nipples into tight peaks.

“Alastor,” she moaned, the sound of his name a benediction on her lips. He responded with a low growl, his mouth moving to capture one of her nipples, his tongue flicking against the sensitive flesh. Y/N’s back arched, and she gripped his shoulders tightly, her nails digging into his skin. The pleasure was intense, a crescendo building within her that threatened to shatter her into a million pieces.

He kissed a path down her stomach, his hands deftly unbuttoning her pants. She could feel the heat of his breath as he pulled them down, leaving her exposed to his hungry gaze. “So beautiful,” he murmured, his eyes drinking her in. She watched as he took in the sight of her, his eyes smoldering with desire.

Her legs quivered as he knelt before her, placing gentle kisses along her inner thighs. His warm breath brushed against her dampness, and she bit her lip to stifle a moan. He looked up, a wicked smile playing on his lips. “I want to hear you, Y/N. Don’t hold back, not with me.”

With that, he pressed his mouth to her, his tongue delving into her warmth. The sensation was exquisite, his touch a masterful blend of rough and tender. She gasped, her hands threading through his hair as she lost herself in the feeling. His tongue danced against her clit, stroking it with a precision that had her hips bucking against his mouth. The pleasure was almost unbearable, her body straining towards the peak she knew was just out of reach.

Alastor’s eyes remained locked with hers, the connection between them as potent as the physical sensations overwhelming her. She could see the hunger in his gaze, the need to claim and possess her, and it only served to drive her desire higher. His fingers slid into her, filling her as he continued to lick and suck, driving her closer and closer to the edge.

The tension grew, coiling tightly within her until she couldn’t hold back any longer. A cry of pleasure tore from her throat, her body convulsing as the orgasm crashed over her like a wave. Alastor held her through it, his tongue slowing but never leaving her, savoring every tremor of her release. When she finally collapsed back onto the couch, panting and trembling, he kissed his way back up her body, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

“Alastor, please,” she gasped, her voice a desperate whisper. “I need more of you. All of you.”

With a predatory smile, he stood, his eyes never leaving hers as he stripped away the last of his clothing. His cock, thick and heavy, stood proudly before her, and she couldn’t help but stare. The anticipation was exquisite, her body already aching for him.

“You’re so eager, my love,” he murmured, his voice a dark caress that sent shivers down her spine. He stepped closer, his hand reaching down to stroke her cheek before his fingers trailed down her neck and over her collarbone.

Y/N reached out to touch him, her hand wrapping around his length. He was hot and hard in her grip, his skin like velvet over steel. Alastor hissed at the contact, his eyes flashing with pleasure. She stroked him, exploring the contours of his cock as she had never been able to before. He watched her, his chest heaving, his pupils wide with desire.

“Take me, Alastor,” she whispered, her voice needy and raw.

The air around them crackled with energy as Alastor claimed her again, his kisses demanding and rough. His cock, thick and insistent, nudged against her folds, seeking entrance. She opened her legs wider, inviting him in, and he took the offering without hesitation. With one swift motion, he thrust into her, filling her completely.

Y/N gasped, her nails digging into the couch cushions as he began to move, his hips pistoning into her with a relentless rhythm. The room was filled with the sounds of their passion—the slap of skin, the guttural groans of pleasure, the soft whimpers that escaped her throat with every stroke. The sensation was overwhelming, a delicious agony that had her eyes rolling back in her head.

Alastor’s hand slid to the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her head back, exposing her throat to his ravenous mouth. He kissed and bit her neck, his fangs grazing her sensitive skin, and she moaned, the thrill of danger only heightening her pleasure. The pressure within her grew, a delicious ache that demanded release, and she could feel the knot at the base of his cock swelling with every thrust.

He slammed into her, the force of his movements making the couch groan beneath them. The pain was exquisite, a fine line between agony and ecstasy that she danced upon. Her eyes watered, but she didn’t care. All she knew was the feel of him, the taste of him, the scent of their shared desire filling the air.

Y/N’s nails raked down his back, her body arching as he hit her g-spot with every thrust. She could feel the knot growing larger, stretching her, and she knew what was coming. The thought sent a fresh wave of arousal through her, making her pussy clench around him.

“Alastor, I’m going to come again!” she screamed, her voice echoing through the room. He responded with a deep, guttural growl, his pace quickening. The knot grew larger, filling her completely, and she could feel the pressure of his climax building.

The world around them faded away, their focus solely on the primal dance of their bodies. The room was a blur of shadows and light, the only constant the heat of their passion. He slammed into her, his knot swelling with the promise of release, and she could feel her own orgasm building once more.

“Alastor, oh god, I can’t—” she gasped, her eyes squeezed shut tightly as the pressure grew.

“Come for me, Y/N,” he growled, his voice a command that sent shockwaves through her core. She obeyed, her body tightening around him as she climaxed again, the intensity of the orgasm leaving her trembling and gasping for air.

Alastor felt her pussy clench around his knot, and with a roar of release, he came too, his warm seed filling her. The knot grew even larger, locking them together in the throes of passion. He stilled, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself into her, the connection between them stronger than ever.

As they rode the waves of their shared climax, their hearts pounded in sync, the room spinning around them. The knot felt like it was branding her, marking her as his own, and she reveled in the possessiveness of the act. When the intensity of the moment began to ebb, Alastor leaned down to kiss her, his movements slow and tender.

“Mine,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs still locked around his waist. “Always yours,” she breathed back, the words a declaration of love and acceptance that resonated deep within his soul.

As their breathing slowed, the knot inside her began to shrink, the intensity of the moment gradually fading. Alastor’s eyes searched hers, his expression a mix of satisfaction and tenderness. “I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice filled with a vulnerability she had never heard before.

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END NOTES: :33< HI GUYS SORRY I HAVENT FED YOU GUYS IVE BEEN IN THE HOSPITAL (i still am [i need alastor]) Guys i just love writing…i don’t know just something about writing…its so fun. I also love you guys. Speaking of love and writing…if you liked this fic,,,,,HIT THAT LIKE BUTTON…or note button (if you didn’t ur still gonna like the post) also like i found out that reposting is—like—so cool and…so is leaving a comment…and following me. NO PRESSURE…love y’all 👅!!! Also sorry if it’s written like a crazy person i’m on the hospital perks rn

-Genderlessdude92

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MASTERLIST

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x wife reader #alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor x y/n #hazbin alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor smut

83 notes · View notes

yanderes-galore · 10 months ago

Note

9.) "The wound in your leg serves as a lesson, does it not?"

romantic Jace

34.) "No one else understands me except you!"

Platonic Luke

Reader had known the boys for her whole life. Reader kinda acts like a boy. She has shorter hair maybe shoulder length? And Jace when they were children would claim they were already married and she was like “um nah” and now that they are older Jace is demanding her to marry him saying “you can’t disobey me, I am your future king and you will be my queen” so reader decides to run away but like catches her and says something like “your the only person who understands how I feel” then drags her back while apologizing and tells Jace what happened. So Jace does something to her legs to make her un able to walk and run away.

Sure! I just hope I get characterization right :') This primarily focuses on Jace if that's okay.

Yandere! Romantic Jacaerys + Platonic! Lucerys Prompts 9 + 24

"The wound in your leg serves as a lesson, does it not?" - Jace

"No one else understands me except you!" - Luke

Pairing: Romantic (Jace)/Platonic (Luke)

Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Obsession, The two manipulate each other, Delusional behavior, Violence, Possessive behavior, Forced betrothal, Medieval sexism/gender roles, Mature themes, Manipulation, OOC Jace, Cutting of Achilles Tendon, Forced relationship/companionship.

When you had met the two princes, you were a young princess yourself. However you were not like most princesses, choosing to sneak around and act like a boy instead. Such a thing wasn't common in the period... but your parents could never seem to stop you.

You used to play with them all the time as children despite the rumors that surrounded their birth. You were about the same age as Jace and Rhaenyra was pleased your parents allowed you to play with them. It was nice to not be judged for once... in return, Rhaenyra never minded your more boyish behavior.

Since you three were young, Jace had been attached to you. His brother, Luke, had seen you as an older sibling or friend. Jace, however, saw you as his future queen as the years went by.

Jace was told he was to sit upon the Iron Throne, while later on Luke was to sit himself on the throne of Driftmark. Neither of them were betrothed, Rhaenyra was still figuring such a thing out. You weren't betrothed either...

Making Jace's heart set on the idea.

"You and I are destined to rule!" Jace would always say to you, a smile on his face as he held your hands. "You have no betrothed, right? We'd be the perfect king and queen...."

Luke had always been one to support his brother. While Jace would ramble on and on about weddings and being the perfect prince for you... Luke would encourage it. You, on the other hand?

You didn't like to think of marriage.

While Jace was always excited about becoming king, ever since you were all young you resented your role of princess. You didn't like being wed off, you didn't like bearing heirs... you wished for a different life. Another role that wasn't playing princess.

Wanting to change roles was a sentiment you shared with Luke. The younger prince also didn't like the idea of ruling Driftmark. This was something that made you see Luke as a brother of your own... you were so similar... even if he kept encouraging his brother.

He encouraged Jace not only because it made the older prince happy... but it also brings you closer to Luke.

While you tried to distance yourself from the idea, Jace was hooked on the idea of courting you. To the point he even brought it up to his mother when he was younger. Rhaenyra was hesitant... but Jace looked so set on marrying you ever since you two were kids.

Such behavior only persisted as you three got older. You had tried to grow into your role, listening to your parents and wearing dresses. However, you never wanted anything big... you'd wear a dress you could move freely in.

Despite trying to look the part, you were still against marriage. You often told your parents about this... but of course they didn't understand. After all, royal families are often concerned with the succession of their bloodline.

You were still close allies with Jace and Luke. You often visited them but... you noticed Jace wasn't as intent on being flirty. He gave you a few thoughtful looks and grins, but now outright courting. Such a thought confused you... after all these years he's given up such fantasies?

It was a welcome change for you...

Until your parents announced that they had spoken to Queen Rhaenyra of Dragonstone... and betrothed you to Prince Jacaerys.

The news devastates you. Sure, Jace and you are childhood friends... but you didn't want to marry him. However... the news certainly explained why he had such a knowing gaze towards you. You're sent into shock and worry about the future.

But eventually... you end up meeting with Prince Jacaerys another day to discuss future relations... much to your dismay.

-🛡-

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this..." Jace whispers, holding your hand softly before kissing the knuckles. "You've managed to get even more beautiful, princess."

You sit with him and Luke in a room as your parents discuss with one another. Jace wears a smiles on his face as he gaze at you. You're his queen... you have been since he met you... he just knows it.

You look away with a frown, pulling your hand away. Jace seems surprised by your reaction and steps closer. Luke notices your hesitancy and pities it... he knows you don't really want this role... but you make his brother happy.

"Princess?" Jace whispers, stepping closer to hold your waist. "Are you nervous...? You know I would do everything in my power to treat you right as king... you're my future queen, after all."

"Jace..." You answer, a sad look in your eye. " You've been at this for years... don't you know I don't like the idea?"

Jace looks at you with a frown, pulling you close despite your squirming. Luke feels torn when he sees your sadness. He cares about both of you... but there was no way to win you both over, was there?

"Are you scared of when we consummate our marriage?" He whispers, making you freeze for a moment. "Or that others will judge us? There's no need... I won't let you be scared." You feel him kiss your cheek... and you push him away.

"I-I'm sorry... I just need to leave for a moment." You admit, stepping back. You go to leave the room, but Jace grips onto your hand.

"My lady..." Jace calls, tone oddly seeming to hide a warning. "Please don't leave... we can make this work!"

"Let go...." You whimper, Jace stepping closer to you as Luke goes to stand up.

"You aren't disobeying your future king, are you?" Jace whispers in your ear. "For my whole life I've wanted you as my queen... mother has given me such a chance. Why do you resist?"

The moment you hear a growl in his tone, you break away from his grasp and exit the room quickly. Jace calls your name but you don't listen as you rush down the halls. You weren't sure where you were running to, you just knew you needed to leave Jace.

Eventually you come across the gardens and find somewhere to sit. Your heart pounds in your chest at the thought of marrying Jace... not in the good way, unfortunately. You're scared of such an event.

You're so lost in the fear that you don't notice the young prince Luke approaching you.

"Princess...?" Luke asks hesitantly, the young boy sitting beside you. "Are you alright?"

"No..." You whisper, the small sound making the prince's heart ache a little. "I never wanted this... I don't want to be a queen...."

Luke frowns, remembering that you both hate the roles your parents gifted you. He didn't want to rule Driftmark. While he has pity for your predicament...

He too wants to keep you close, just like his brother.

"I know..." Luke sighs, eyes looking at you with sympathy. "No one else understands me except you... we're already like siblings..."

You smile softly at the young prince... but notice the darkness in his gaze.

"Which is why I can't wait for you to be my sister-in-law..." Luke smiles, your heart dropping at his words.

"My Lady!" Jace calls, anger in his voice. You freeze, wanting to run, but Luke grabs your arm tightly. You begin to realize Luke betrayed you for his brother...

Allowing Jace to pull you into his grasp tightly. Dragon blood does indeed run deep in the two princes despite their parentage... why else would they be so possessive of you?

"Queens shouldn't run from their kings..." Jace growls softly, nails digging into your skin. Luke begins to reconsider his decisions when he sees Jace slowly reach for his dagger. "Good kings need to teach their wives to listen, don't they?"

You feel yourself gently pushed onto the ground as Jace sits on your legs. You struggle but Jace orders Luke to hold you still. Jace, your king, holds a sadistic darkness in his eyes as he holds your legs.

"I'll make sure you never run from me again..." Jace whispers, kissing your forehead softly. You feel a sharp blade by your heel and try to move... only to be restrained.

"A wound on your leg serves as a lesson, does it not?" Jace grins dangerously as you feel the blade begin to bite your flesh.

"You'll never run from us again... welcome to the family, my beloved." Jace coos as Luke reluctantly covers your mouth.

The two make sure your screams are unable to be heard by your parents as the blade digs into your flesh... just one tendon cut free to hinder your movement...

By the end of it you'll be a bird with clipped wings... forever the spouse of a half-dragon.

#yandere house of the dragon #yandere hotd #yandere jacaerys #yandere lucerys

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reve-writes · 2 years ago

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—if i'm dead to you [1]; leon kennedy.

ʚ leon kennedy x reader | resident evil | 1,5k words. ʚ chapter two. | you betrayed him before, resulting in a failed mission and a preventable death. years later, you cross paths. ʚ angst. profanity; violence; non-canon lore; reader murdered someone; very loosely set in re4. ʚ a/n this will have a second part! i don't write for leon a lot so he may be ooc, sorry for that. i just wanted to write some lovers-to-enemies angst while being knee-deep in leon brainrot.

"I should kill you," he theeatens. You feel the hard muzzle of his pistol on the small of your back, almost feel the coldness of the metal against your skin despite the jacket you're clad in.

God, you missed him.

"Leon," you greet casually, even as you put your hands up in a surrendering manner. He presses the gun harder—a warning. One you're choosing to ignore. "Come on, puppy. We both know you're not going to shoot."

His voice is cold when he responds, venom lacing every syllable. "Do we?"

Your heart clenches, but then again you deserve every bit of anger he throws your way. His icy tone feels so much worse than any wound you've ever had in your line of work. Each words lodging deep inside you, like a bullet without an exit wound.

“Leon,” you try again. His name flows smoothly out of your lips as if you've been saying it your whole life. Even now, as he's threatening you, your body seems to remember him anyway—gravitate towards the pads of his fingers, the warmth of his torso. You thrum with the yearning to feel his skin on yours again as much as you don't deserve to. “We can talk like civilised people.”

“We're past civilised for a while now,” he retorts, but the pressure loosens. You take your chances and slowly spin on your heels to face him. A mistake on your part. Your heart swells at the sight of him. His blond hair, sweeping over his ears. The blue in his eyes, hardened from years of experience as an agent. The set of his jaw. Your hand twitches with the desire to touch him, feel his lips against yours once more.

What do you even say?

Apologising seems like a callous move. You didn't bother to apologise five years ago. It changes nothing even if you do apologise now, because you'll do it all over again. Instead of spinning more lies or desperately trying to bury the elephant in the room, you opt for the truth.

“I'm glad you're well, Leon.” You swallow, trying to clear the scratchiness of your voice from the lump forming in your throat.

His brows furrow. His gun is still aimed towards you, but his hand is trembling ever-so-slightly. “Don't do that.”

Your head tilts to the side. “Do what?”

“Try and act as if you're not the biggest fucking liar I've ever met,” he snarls. “Fuck this. Fuck you.”

It stings. Every word acts like lacerations on the fickle little thing beating inside your chest. Your hand shakes, but you flash him a tight-lipped smile instead.

“I suppose I deserve that.”

“And a whole lot more.”

A beat passes, and then two. It doesn't seem like he's going to serve you your retribution.

You're taking in his appearance and he looks at you, so many thoughts racing in his head. Too many to pick out just one. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm the roiling anger in his veins—to keep the red at the edge of his vision instead of blinding him.

“What are you doing here?”

“You know I can't answer that.”

“The least you can do is answer my questions.” He grits his teeth. “Then again, whatever you say is most likely a lie.”

“I'll take my leave, then.” I'm glad I get to see you.

He kisses his teeth in annoyance. “Goddammit, ___. Are you really not going to say anything?”

You clench your fists, nails digging into your palms. “We don't need to do this. I'll stay out of your way.”

“What about Tracy?”

The name brings up a clear picture. Pig-tailed brunette. Fifteen years old. Freckles dusting her cheeks. The gap between her front teeth when she smiled.

Tracy Miller.

That was the name printed on your mission file five years ago. Your mission partner was Leon Kennedy. Both of you were newbies in the field, recently recruited after what went down in Raccoon City. It was supposed to be an easy mission, anyway. You were starry-eyed, excited to spend a little more time with him, giddy for experience in this godforsaken field.

Your mission was simple. The fifteen-year-old prodigy created a strain of virus. You were supposed to bring her in for questioning. They were planning to confiscate the research.

Until you were approached by your current employer—a group of self-righteous assholes whom you've caught the attention of. You were presented with an offer, but it was never much of a choice. Kill Tracy, get rid of the possibility that the virus could ever soread. You would never say yes. Never in a million years would you have aimed your gun at a helpless child.

Until they mentioned him.

It didn't take much for you to throw your morals to the backburner when it came to Leon. He was their leverage. If you didn't work for them and dispose of Tracy, then he would die. Their words over the static of your phone are the start of this nightmare.

How sure are you that you can protect him from us?

The name Tracy brings up an image. A loud ringing in your ears. The thud of her body hitting the ground. The click of your gun as it fell to the floor, a bullet missing from its magazine, lodged in the girl's skull.

You steel yourself, echoing empty words you don't quite believe in. “I did what needed to be done.”

You walked away from him. Your shoes knocking against the docks of the lake. As soon as he's out of sight, your knees buckle and you fall. Blinking your eyes, you realise that you're crying.

You don't have time for this.

Not in the middle of an infected village where its residents can appear anytime, hurling an axe at your skull or brandishing a pitchfork, fully intending to kill. There's a mission to accomplish.

Dammit.

You're filled with contradictions. Even as you curse to yourself, standing in front of him like a deer caught in the headlights, there's a part of you that lights up when you bump into him again. It overshadows the rational part—the one that dreads another confrontation, risking the exchange of words as sharp as daggers into each other's hearts.

He immediately levels his handgun at your chest. You drop yours.

“Shit. I didn't know you were here, Leon.” This is one truth that you can offer to him.

“Am I supposed to believe that?”

You sigh, spotting a hostile in your periphery ready to lob a machete at you. “Duck.”

Even if you're the one who cried wolf, the one who once served a lie so grave on a platter without batting an eye, his body responds, immediately falling to a crouch before he can even think about it. It's how the two of you operate in Raccoon City and the countless missions that follow after that. Complete trust. That's why your betrayal feels like a thousand cuts to him.

You curse under your breath, side-stepping the machete. You swoop down for your dropped gun, shooting the infected resident three times before he falls to the ground. Your gunshot is loud, drawing everyone and their mothers out of their houses.

“Great,” Leon complains under his breath.

It's a dance you remember. The way your body so naturally presses up against him to cover each other's backs. The familiar little commands the two of you exchange as you take down enemy after enemy.

“She's just eating my bullets!” He quips, dropping an empty magazine out with one hand, the other already pulling out a new one out to reload. “Shit.”

You chuckle. Suddenly, you're back in Raccoon City again. Two naive twenty-something-year-olds keeping each other alive. Leon and his quirky comments. You and your light-hearted laughs.

The last shot rings and the two of you let out a relieved sigh.

“Great work,” he says before he can stop himself, falling into old habits.

You smile—that million dollar smile that does unhealthy things to his heart. Do it again. A voice in his head says. He frowns, clenching and unclenching his fists, trying to shake off the stupor that remains after the fight.

Tracy Miller. He'll never forget the day he failed the young girl. The day you broke his trust. He swears he hates you. He wants you dead for what you did.

“You're not half bad yourself, Kennedy,” you answer.

He turns around, going to sow his rewards after all the shooting. “Stay out of my way. I won't hesitate the next time.”

The coldness returns to him. You tighten your jacket as if it can help shield you from the chill, but this is a small price you have to pay for his life. You prefer to have him absolutely loathe you than buried dead six feet underground.

You wince, walking away. “Take care, puppy.”

The nickname slips out of you and his step falters for a second. You notice—you notice every fucking thing he does bevause his presence alone heightens all your senses.

It gives you hope, a small one—one you don't deserve. Maybe. Just maybe. He'll forgive you someday.

[ ]

#leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #—ki writes 🍯

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stale-trash · 6 months ago

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Hi, of that's, can I please have yandere Jade x reader who tries to break up with her? (Headcanon). How would Jade react and what would she do in this situation?

I am assuming you mean Jade from Honkai Star Rail. If not, I'm sorry!!

cw: yandere/possessive behavior, very questionable behavior, implied violence, possible ooc

A/N: I have yet to play any of the quests she's in (╥﹏╥). I hope I did her justice!!

Bold of you to even assume you have the option to break-up with her. No matter how you end up in a relationship with her - willing or unwilling - your fate is sealed.

Jade knows every aspect of her desires, from their depth to their origins. When she sets her mind to something, precious little can get in her way.

How she acquired you determines how she reacts to your ill-advised statement. If you are in a contract with her, she would take some time to remind you of your position - how truly nice you have it.

It'd start small, like having you organize paperwork in the pawnshop where you'd get a first hand look at Lady Bonajade's dealings. Many desires are laid bare in front of you; some are honorable, others deplorable, and both are equally pondered upon by the lavishly clad woman. It’s hard to understand the logic behind most of the dealings, yet you remembered the time you occupied their positions - the way your desires slipped past your lips to be scrutinized by Lady Bonajade.

You also get to see what happens to those who step out of line - more specifically, the bureaucratic aftermath. The written records of their punishment, outstanding debt, and next steps are so clinical regardless of the situation. It doesn't matter if they were fighting for their life or attempting to pull a fast one - there was no leeway.

There was no reason for Jade to drape you in expensive fabric and opulent jewels. There was no reason for Jade to have you by her side doing menial tasks. There was no reason for Jade to suffocate you in her cold embrace and colder favor.

There was no reason for Jade to treat you like a lover. All the contract specified in its convoluted wording was that you're hers to use as she sees fit.

If you somehow aren't apologizing for your behavior and willingly accepting whatever humiliating punishment she has in mind within a week, Lady Bonajade has no problem pushing you further.

You'd lose all of her "favor" slowly until you're nothing but another IPC grunt. You won't be in any threat of dying, but there are many things worse than death prowling the cosmos. Don't worry, it won't be anything Jade can't fix given the appropriate price.

All you need to do is apologize, and beg for her favor once again. Of course, a benevolent woman such as her would be more than willing to reevaluate your contract - though, it is in your interest to note that this is a one-time offer. If you were to repeat this mistake again, the punishment wouldn’t be so light.

If you aren't in a contract with her, that would change. This relationship wouldn’t just end because you will it. But she'll let you slip from her embrace for now.

Jade is not above dismantling every aspect of your life piece by piece until you come crawling back. You can choose how much is destroyed - your social life, finances, career prospects, or even the lives of your close ones - by walking back into that pawnshop of hers.

She doesn't ask for what you seek nor what you desire - those are irrelevant in the face of her own. No, she asks if you've come back to your senses, a pet name rolling off her lips oh-so-naturally as if she hadn't constructed your downfall.

A contract is placed in front of you, the written words melting together into an indecipherable mess. Her signature was the only legible word in the entire document, with a blank spot ready for your own.

You may gain everything you've naively wished for many years ago with a few strokes of ink - insurmountable wealth, a lavish lifestyle, and a lack of mundane worries - but gilded chains are still chains.

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kokoch4n3l · 9 months ago

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DEAD GIRL'S BEACH࿐ྂ KUROKAWA IZANA x f!oc x SANO MANJIRO

TWELVE — his dead girl's beach

"Guarded and evasive, Mr. Kurokawa deflects introspection, avoiding confrontation of his inner demons. This avoidance hints at his discomfort with facing vulnerabilities and traumas, as he prioritizes projecting strength and control."—KANEKO MAYA'S ROUGH NOTES ON K.I

chapter summary: Mikey thinks about the past while Maya tries to remember what she missed. Izana helps Kisaki choose an engagement ring.

warnings: dark content 18+, self-loathing, mental health issues, mentions of scars, mentions of burns, drug addictions, drug use/misuse, withdrawal mentions, mental breakdowns, emotional manipulation, stockholm syndrome, past noncon, infantilization, possessiveness, emotional incest, mommy issues, dehumanization, oral sex(f receiving), cunnilingus, fingering, implied multiple orgasms, slight hair pulling(m receiving), praise kink, dacryphilia, dom/sub undertones, overstimulation, aftercare, slight ooc!Kisaki, draken & og toman slander, mental health issues, depression, vomiting, toxic and unhealthy relationships, implied emotional abuse, past character death, past picture taking, implied voyeurism, scars, memory loss, kissing, smut, handjob, piv, no prep, dissociation, creampie, use of guns, blood and gore, depiction of corpses, major character death

word count: 20 446

masterlist | previous | chapter 13

How do you put yourself back together? After breaking apart over and over, how do you put yourself back together? Maya has done it a bunch of times but...

What do you do when someone's taken a few of your shattered pieces with them?

It's not just her own brokenness she has to contend with, it's the pieces of herself that others have stolen away. Mikey and Izana, each wielding their own brand of manipulation and control, have taken parts of her that she may never get back. With a heavy heart, Maya realizes that she can't simply piece herself back together as she has done in the past. Those missing fragments, those stolen pieces of her soul, leave behind a void that cannot be filled by her own efforts alone. With a heavy heart, Maya realizes that she can't simply piece herself back together as she has done in the past. Those missing fragments, those stolen pieces of her soul, leave behind a void that cannot be filled by her own efforts alone.

The love she had for Chifuyu once seemed like a beacon of light in the darkness, a source of strength and solace amidst the chaos of her life. But now, tainted by the knowledge that his feelings may not match her own, she wonders if returning to him would only deepen the wounds that already mar her fragile heart. Would his embrace bring her the comfort she so desperately craves, or would it serve as a painful reminder of all that she has lost?

And what of the invisible scars that mar her body, each one a testament to the pain and suffering she has endured? The burn on her back may have healed, but the memory of the agony she endured at Izana and Mikey's hands remains etched into her very being. Will time erase the pain, or will it linger like the scar on her shoulder, a constant reminder of the violence and betrayal that has marked her existence?

Alone in the dimly lit master bedroom, Maya sits on the edge of the bed, her mind consumed by a storm of emotions. The silence weighs heavily upon her, a suffocating blanket that smothers any semblance of peace. In the midst of her turmoil, she is unaware of the faint creak as the door swings open, admitting a sliver of light into the shadowy room. Izana steps inside, his presence felt before he even speaks. His smile, devoid of warmth, watches her like a predator observing its prey. "Hey bunny," he says softly, his voice dripping with false concern. "Are you alright?"

She looks up, startled by his sudden appearance, her heart sinking as she meets his gaze. His eyes gleam with amusement, a silent mockery of her struggles. She forces a nod, unable to muster the strength to speak in the face of his calculated indifference. Izana moves closer, his smile widening as he takes a seat beside her. His touch, though seemingly gentle, sends a shiver down her spine, a cold reminder of his true nature lurking beneath the facade of concern. "You don't have to face this alone," he says, his voice honeyed with deception. "I'm here for you, bunny. Always."

Maya doesn't pull away from his touch, nor does she say anything. "hm... looks like you need to be taken care of more than me, bunny" He says with a small laugh

Izana moves himself so he's sitting with his back against the headboard and pillows. He gestures for her to come closer. Without hesitation, Maya crawls over and sits across his lap comfortably. She nestles closer to him, her head resting against his chest. It's a moment of vulnerability, of allowing herself to be vulnerable in his presence. Izana's lips curve into a satisfied smile as he feels her relax against him. He revels in the power he holds over her, relishing in the knowledge that she has surrendered herself to him willingly. As Maya settles against him, Izana gently runs his fingers through her hair, a gesture that feels both comforting and possessive. He relishes in the feeling of her body pressed against his, the subtle rise and fall of her chest against his own. "You know, bunny," Izana murmurs, his voice soft yet tinged with a hint of smugness, "you always seem to find your way back to me, no matter how hard you try to resist."

Maya's breath catches in her throat at his words. She knows he's right, knows that despite her best efforts to break free from his grasp, she always ends up back in his arms. "Izana," she whispers, her voice barely audible, "this... this isn't how it's supposed to be."

His grip tightens ever so slightly around her, a silent reminder of the power he holds over her. "But this is how it is, bunny," he replies softly, his tone tinged with a sense of finality. "And as long as you're mine, it's how it will always be."

Maya sighs and presses her face against Izana's chest. It had been about two and a half weeks since the whole ordeal. In total, she was held in this beach house for a month and 3 weeks. Izana is running his hands through her hair, the rough pads of his fingers scratching against her scalp. Izana was doing pretty well with the withdrawal. It seemed like having a different atmosphere really did help with recovery. Mikey is in the shower and the sun is still rising. It's way too early in the morning but they all somehow woke up at the same time— or well, Maya pretended to be asleep so Mikey didn't drag her to the shower with him. "You know..." Izana starts, resting his chin on top of her head "We didn't mean to get you addicted... we just got carried away"

Maya's heart sinks as Izana's words wash over her, the weight of his confession settling like a heavy fog in the room. "You just looked so cute high... You were clingy as hell..." He sighs, fingers trailing down the back of her neck, tracing the knobs of her spine "Sounded so cute every time you said my name so I just got carried away... Manjiro too"

Maya's mind reels at the realization of how easily they succumbed to their desires, how they let themselves be swept away by the intoxicating allure of her altered state. It's a bitter truth to swallow, knowing that their actions were driven by selfish impulses rather than genuine concern for her well-being. "I... I don't remember much of it" she admits, not looking up at him

Izana sighs, sounding almost remorseful. "Of course, you don't..." his tone changes quickly though as if remembering a fond childhood memory "You were adorable though... Could barely even sit up on your own and were so fucking clingy"

Izana's gaze softens as he watches Maya, a flicker of emotion passing through his eyes before he speaks again. "But hey," he murmurs, his voice gentle, "we took care of you, okay... You didn't die, isn't that what matters?"

Maya remains silent, her eyes downcast as she absorbs his words. She doesn't dare contradict him, knowing it would only lead to more conflict. Instead, she nods slowly, a gesture of silent agreement. Izana hums and runs his fingers through her hair again, glancing sideways as he hears the shower turn off. "There are some polaroids though... In case you wanna get a few glimpses of what happened during those 2 weeks" He tells her

Maya's heart clenches at Izana's mention of the polaroids, a mixture of dread and curiosity swirling within her. She knows she shouldn't want to see them, shouldn't want to revisit those moments of vulnerability and manipulation, but there's a part of her that can't help but wonder. "Maybe later," she mumbles softly, her voice barely audible as she tries to push aside the nagging desire to see the evidence of her own(possible) degradation.

Izana nods understandingly, though there's a glint of mischief in his eyes that Maya can't quite decipher. "Whenever you're ready" he replies, his tone almost teasing as he leans in to press a kiss to the top of her head.

Maya forces a small smile, though it feels brittle and fragile on her lips. She wonders how things were during those 2 weeks. The weight of the past hangs heavy on her shoulders, burdening her with questions and doubts that seem to have no answers. She wonders how everything spiralled out of control so quickly, how she ended up trapped in this web of deceit and manipulation. Izana's steady heartbeat beneath her ear offers a semblance of solace, a reminder that amidst the chaos, there are still moments of calm. Yet, even in his embrace, Maya can't shake the gnawing feeling of despair that gnaws at the edges of her consciousness. "Hey... Bunny..." Izana says holding her tighter against him "You're shaking"

Maya's breath catches in her throat as Izana's voice cuts through the haze of her thoughts. She hadn't even realized she was shaking until he pointed it out. "Sorry..." she mumbles, her voice barely audible as she tries to steady her trembling limbs.

She feels exposed, vulnerable beneath Izana's scrutinizing gaze, as if he can see straight through the facade she's been desperately trying to maintain. Izana's arms tighten around her, his touch both comforting and suffocating all at once. "Don't apologize," he murmurs, his breath warm against her ear. "Just breathe..."

Maya feels vulnerable and sad. She can't help herself right now. Tears well up in her eyes for a reason she isn't too sure of. She doesn't feel too good. As tears blur her vision, Maya's chest tightens with an overwhelming wave of emotion. She feels like she's drowning, suffocating beneath the weight of her own despair. Each breath comes harder than the last as if the air itself has turned to lead in her lungs. "Izana..." she whispers, her voice trembling with unspoken anguish. "I can't do this anymore..."

Her words hang heavy in the air, a desperate plea for release from the suffocating grip of her own mind. Izana's grip tightens around Maya, his arms enveloping her in a protective embrace. "Hey, hey, it's okay," he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm against the storm raging within her

But Maya can't shake the feeling of isolation, the sense that she's adrift in a sea of darkness with no shore in sight. "I can't..." she chokes out between sobs, her voice breaking with the weight of her despair. "I can't do this anymore, Izana... I wanna go home..."

Izana's grip tightens around Maya, his embrace becoming suffocating rather than comforting. "Bunny," he murmurs, his tone stern even while using that vile pet name, "this is your home now. You belong to me, remember? You don't get to leave whenever you please. So no more talking about that and no more asking for it either... Understand?"

Her tears wet Izana's shirt, but he doesn't seem to mind. Instead, he holds her even tighter, his touch strangely comforting despite the suffocating weight of his possessiveness. "Shh, I know... I know," he murmurs softly, his voice a soothing balm against her turmoil. "Stop crying."

Maya sniffles, trying to silence her sobs, but the tears keep flowing, unstoppable as a river. "I-I'm sorry... 'm sorry..." she apologizes, her words choked with emotion. "I'm tired."

"You don't have to apologize for feeling tired," Izana reassures her, his voice calm and steady. He runs his fingers through her hair in a gentle gesture of comfort. "It's perfectly natural for you to be tired."

"Just... don't ask to go home again" he warns softly, his tone tinged with a hint of possessiveness as he squeezes her tightly in his arms.

Maya continues to apologize between trembling breaths, her grip on Izana tightening as if she fears he might slip away. Each apology feels like a plea for forgiveness for something she didn't even do, a desperate attempt to soothe the turmoil raging within her. "I-I'm sorry... I didn't mean to... I just..." Her words dissolve into a choked sob, her entire body shaking with the force of her emotions.

Izana's arms remain wrapped around her, offering a sense of security amidst the chaos of her own mind. He doesn't respond to her apologies, instead choosing to hold her close, his touch a silent reassurance that she isn't alone. For a moment, Maya allows herself to forget the weight of her despair, to lose herself in the warmth of Izana's embrace. But even as she clings to him like a lifeline, she can't shake the nagging feeling of emptiness that gnaws at her from within. Each breath feels like a struggle as if the weight of her despair threatens to crush her from within. "I-I don't know what to do..." she whispers hoarsely, her voice barely audible amidst the turmoil.

She feels lost, adrift in a sea of uncertainty, with no beacon to guide her to shore. The walls of the beach house seem to close in around her, suffocating her with their oppressive presence. "I can't... I can't do this anymore..." she murmurs, her words a desperate plea for release from the prison of her own mind

Izana's touch is a lifeline amidst the chaos, his arms a refuge from the storm that rages within her. He holds her close, tight, his touch is warm. "It's okay, bunny," he murmurs, his voice a soothing melody in the midst of her turmoil. "I've got you... You don't have to do anything... Just let yourself feel... Let it all out..."

In the quiet intimacy of the moment, Maya's tears begin to subside, her sobs tapering off into soft, shuddering breaths. She rests her head against Izana's chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her ear. "I'm sorry..." she whispers, her voice barely above a whisper, laden with exhaustion and remorse. "I didn't mean to... I just..."

Izana brushes his fingers through her hair, his touch gentle and reassuring. "Shh~, it's alright," he murmurs, his tone soft and understanding. "You don't have to apologize, bunny. You're just tired... You've been through so much..."

Maya nods weakly, her body still trembling with the aftershocks of her breakdown that probably hasn't ended yet. She feels drained, emotionally and physically spent from the weight of her own despair. Maya didn't know what she was apologizing for but she kept saying it anyway and each time Izana just hushed her. "hey, hey... Look at me" He said and put a tanned finger beneath her chin, making her look up at him

She looks up at him, her blue eyes watery and sad. "Good girl" Izana murmurs, rubbing his thumb against the thin skin under her eye, fingertips brushing against her bottom lashes "I know you're tired, I know you've been through a lot but I promise... I promise everything will be okay from now on"

Izana presses a kiss to her forehead and then continues speaking. "Everything here is for you. The house is yours, the beach is yours... You'll never have to worry about anything again, hm. We'll take care of you"

As Maya gazes up at Izana, her eyes reflect a mix of weariness and vulnerability. His gentle touch beneath her eye elicits a soft sigh from her lips, a subtle reassurance amidst the turmoil of her emotions. She leans into his caress, finding solace in the warmth of his affection. "Okay..." she whispers, her voice barely audible, her words a whispered plea for comfort.

Izana's lips curve into a tender smile, his thumb continuing its soothing motion against her skin. "You're doing so well, Bunny," he murmurs, his voice a soft murmur that washes over her like a gentle breeze. "I'm proud of you. Me and Manjiro"

As the bathroom door swings open, Mikey emerges, his presence commanding attention even in the dim light of the early morning. Maya's gaze flickers towards him, momentarily distracted from the cocoon of comfort she finds in Izana's arms. Mikey's appearance is casual yet striking, his toned physique accentuated by the absence of a shirt, and his sweatpants hanging loosely on his hips. He runs a hand through his damp hair, ruffling the dark strands as he steps further into the room. "Morning" he greets, his voice low and gravelly from sleep, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he takes in the scene before him.

Izana's arms tighten around Maya. "Morning" he echoes, grinning lazily at his younger brother

Maya's heart flutters nervously in her chest. She shifts uncomfortably in Izana's embrace, torn between the conflicting desires that tug at her heartstrings. Mikey's gaze meets hers, a flicker of something unreadable passing between them before he breaks the momentary silence. "You alright, Maya?" he asks, his voice soft with genuine concern.

Maya isn't able to answer. She knows for a fact the moment she opens her mouth to speak she'll cry again. So instead, she presses her face against the crook of Izana's neck, clinging to him tighter. Izana's fingers gently stroke her hair as he speaks, his tone carrying a note of understanding. "our bunny had a little meltdown, Manjiro" he explains, his voice soft and patronizing.

Mikey nods, his expression softening with empathy. "Oh, poor thing" he murmurs, his eyes flickering with concern as he steps closer to them, laying a hand on the back of her neck "It's alright..."

Maya nods weakly, unable to find the words to express the tangled mess of emotions churning inside her. She feels like a child, overwhelmed and lost in a world she can't comprehend. But in the arms of Izana and Mikey, she finds a fleeting sense of security, a sanctuary from the storm raging within her soul. Izana's hand continues to stroke her hair in a soothing rhythm, his touch a silent reassurance that she's not alone. "Just rest now, little bunny," he murmurs, his voice laced with a strange mix of tenderness and possessiveness. "We'll take care of everything."

With a heavy heart, Maya allows herself to sink into the warmth of their embrace, seeking solace in the arms of those who claim to care for her. As Maya buries her face in Izana's neck, she feels a rush of conflicting emotions coursing through her veins. She's torn between the comfort of their embrace and the unsettling realization that she's become dependent on them for comfort. Izana's fingers continue their gentle caress through her hair, his touch both comforting and suffocating in its possessiveness. Mikey's hand on the back of her neck offers a sense of grounding amidst the turmoil raging within her. His words of reassurance are like a lifeline in the midst of the storm, anchoring her fragile sense of self amidst the chaos. But beneath the surface, Maya can't shake the gnawing feeling of unease that gnaws at her soul. She wonders how she ended up in this tangled web of manipulation and control, and whether there's any way out.

Yet for now, she pushes aside her doubts and surrenders to the warmth of their embrace, seeking refuge in the illusion of safety they offer. As she closes her eyes and drifts into the embrace of sleep, she knows that the path ahead is fraught with uncertainty, but for now, she allows herself to be carried away by the currents of their affection, hoping against hope that they will lead her to calmer shores.

As Maya drifts into a peaceful slumber, Izana carefully lays her down on the bed and tenderly tucks her in, ensuring she's comfortable. Mikey observes silently from across the room, his gaze lingering on Maya's sleeping form as he buttons up his shirt. There's a moment of quiet between them, punctuated only by the soft sounds of Maya's steady breathing. Mikey's expression is unreadable, a mixture of concern and resignation playing across his features as he watches over her. "she doesn't remember y'know... Should've seen it coming but I think it's a little disappointing" Izana says "She thinks we did something crazy to her during those two weeks"

Mikey's expression tightens slightly at Izana's words, a flicker of frustration crossing his features before he composes himself. Izana's voice carries a note of accusation as he turns to face Mikey, his gaze piercing. "It's your fault she doesn't remember," Izana continues, his tone tinged with frustration. "You kept getting carried away, giving her more pills than she needed. Now look at her."

Mikey's tone is defensive as he responds to Izana's accusation. "I only did it because I couldn't help myself," he admits, his voice tinged with remorse. "She looked so... vulnerable. I just wanted to make her feel better, even if it meant going too far."

Izana just chuckles. "You get obsessed so easily, don't you?" He says amusement evident in his tone "My poor bunny thought all this time I was the one hurting her and giving her those pills when it was you that kept giving her more"

Izana is making fun of him now. Mikey's expression tightens, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features as Izana's words hit home. "It's not like that," he retorts defensively, his voice tinged with frustration. "I was just trying to help her."

Izana's laughter rings out, a mocking sound that echoes in the quiet room. "Help her? More like suffocate her," he quips, his amusement turning sharp and cutting. "If Kakucho hadn't stopped you, you would've ended up overdosing her. And that's huge coming from someone who doesn't even take drugs that aren't prescribed to them"

Mikey's jaw clenches, a surge of resentment bubbling up inside him at Izana's taunts. "I know what I'm doing," he snaps back, his tone defensive. "You don't need to lecture me. And stop acting like such a saint. You were the one that gave that to her first"

As tension simmers between them, the air thick with unspoken frustrations and resentment, they both know that their dynamic is far from simple. With Maya caught in the middle, their conflicting desires threaten to unravel the fragile balance they've managed to maintain. "Yeah, I did and I admit that. But I made it clear to her from the start what I wanted from her. You on the other hand you lying manipulative little shit..." Izana says insulting him but also looking impressed "Got 'er wrapped around your finger by playing the long game. Fuck, I don't have the patience for that shit"

Mikey rolls his eyes and says "Is that why you told her the truth? 'Cause you were jealous I got her heart first?"

Izana's smirk widens into a sly grin, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Maybe," he quips, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Or maybe I just got tired of watching you manipulate her like a puppet on strings."

Mikey's expression darkens, his frustration boiling over as he meets Izana's gaze head-on. "You don't get to play the hero here, Izana," he snaps, his tone laced with bitterness. "You're just as twisted and messed up as I am."

The room crackles with tension, the air heavy with unspoken accusations and resentments. Maya's sleeping form serves as a stark reminder of the tangled web they've woven, each thread pulling them deeper into the darkness of their own making. Izana's laughter rings out once more, a cold sound that sends a shiver down Mikey's spine. "Maybe so," he concedes, his voice low and dangerous. "But at least I'm not the one lying to myself about it."

With that, the room falls into a tense silence, the weight of their shared secrets hanging heavy between them like a dark cloud. In the quiet stillness of the early morning, they are left to confront the truth of their own twisted desires, and the consequences that threaten to tear them apart. The silence stretches on, heavy with unresolved tension and unspoken words. Mikey's gaze flickers away from Izana's, his mind racing with conflicting emotions. He knows that Izana's words hold a grain of truth, but he can't bring himself to admit it.

Meanwhile, Izana reclines back on the bed next to Maya, a smug smirk playing at the corners of his lips. He watches Mikey closely, his eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and satisfaction. For Izana, this moment is a victory, a chance to assert his dominance and remind Mikey of his own shortcomings. But beneath the facade of confidence, Izana's own insecurities gnaw at him, a constant reminder of the fragile balance he's trying to maintain. Despite his bravado, he can't shake the feeling that he's losing control, that Maya's presence in their lives is a threat to the carefully constructed walls he's built around himself. In the midst of their silent standoff, Maya stirs in her sleep, a small whimper escaping her lips. The sound pierces through the tension, drawing both Izana and Mikey's attention back to her. "shh~" Izana murmurs, being uncharacteristically gentle in front of Mikey for the first time

Izana caressed her hair, leaning down till his nose was pressed to her cheek in a soft comforting manner. As Izana leans in to comfort Maya, Mikey watches with a mixture of frustration and resignation. His fists clench at his sides as he struggles to contain the storm of emotions raging within him. "You think you can just play the caring lover now?" he scoffs, his voice dripping with bitterness.

Izana doesn't respond, his attention fully focused on Maya as he brushes a stray strand of hair from her face. There's a tenderness in his touch that Mikey finds unsettling, a stark contrast to the manipulative persona he usually wears like armour. Frustration boiling over, Mikey steps forward, his eyes narrowed in defiance. "You're not fooling anyone, Izana," he says, his voice low and menacing. "We both know what you're really after."

Izana's gaze flickers up to meet Mikey's, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes. "And what exactly am I after, Manjiro?" he asks, his tone deceptively calm.

Mikey grits his teeth, his frustration mounting with each passing moment. "You want control," he snaps, his voice rising with anger. "You want to keep her all to yourself, like some kind of possession. Or I dunno. A fuckin' pet?!"

Izana's smirk widens, a flash of something dark glinting in his eyes. "And what about you, Mikey?" he counters, his voice dripping with malice. "What do you want?"

The question hangs heavy in the air, and the silence that follows is filled with tension and uncertainty. Mikey's jaw tightens as he struggles to find the words, torn between his own desires and the tangled web of manipulation that binds them all together. Mikey's gaze flickers between Izana and Maya, his mind racing with conflicting emotions. He wants to protect her, to keep her safe from the chaos that surrounds them, but he also knows that he's part of the problem. "I want..." he begins, his voice trailing off as he struggles to articulate his thoughts.

Izana's smirk deepens, a knowing glint in his eyes. "You want her, don't you?" he taunts, his words like a dagger aimed at Mikey's heart. "You want her just as much as I do."

Mikey's fists clench at his sides, his frustration reaching its breaking point. "It's not like that," he insists, his voice tinged with desperation. "I care about her, Izana. I don't want to see her hurt."

Izana's laughter rings out, cold and mocking. "Oh, spare me the act, Manjiro," he sneers, his tone dripping with disdain. "You're just as possessive as I am. Admit it."

Mikey's chest tightens with frustration, his jaw clenched as Izana's words hit uncomfortably close to home. He knows there's truth in what Izana says, even if he's reluctant to admit it. The weight of his conflicting emotions bears down on him, leaving him feeling trapped in a web of his own making. As Maya's soft whimper fills the air once more, Mikey's resolve wavers. He knows he needs to confront his feelings and the reality of the situation, but the thought of acknowledging his own possessiveness fills him with a sense of shame. With a heavy sigh, he looks away, unable to meet Izana's gaze as the truth hangs heavy in the air. Izana's voice breaks through the tension, his tone soft and gentle as he soothes Maya's restless slumber. With practiced ease, he reaches out to stroke her hair, his touch tender and reassuring. "Shh, little bunny," he murmurs, his voice a soothing melody in the stillness of the room. "It's alright. You're safe here."

Maya's whimpering subsides, her breathing gradually steadying as Izana's comforting presence envelops her in a cocoon of warmth. Mikey watches silently, a knot of conflicting emotions churning in his chest. He can't deny the sense of relief that washes over him as Izana calms Maya, but beneath it all, there lingers a lingering sense of unease. As the tension in the room eases, a fragile truce settles between Mikey and Izana, their silent standoff momentarily forgotten in the face of Maya's vulnerability. Izana is humming a soft melody into Maya's ear, and Mikey freezes at the sound of the familiar tune. "Izana..." Mikey says lowly, realizing exactly what was going on just from that damn song he was humming—

—Realizing exactly why Izana hadn't just killed her that night. "you're messed up..." Mikey says breathlessly "Majorly fucking messed up"

Mikey's voice cuts through the soft melody, breaking the fragile calm that had settled over the room. Izana's humming falters for a moment, his gaze flickering up to meet Mikey's with a hint of annoyance in his eyes. "And you're not?" he retorts, his tone laced with bitterness. "We're all messed up here, Manjiro. Don't act like you're any different."

There's a raw honesty in Izana's words, a stark reminder of the darkness that lurks within each of them. Mikey's jaw clenches, his fists tightening at his sides as he struggles to contain the surge of anger threatening to consume him. "You're pretending she's her" Mikey argues, clenching his fists

He can't stand the thought of Izana projecting his past onto Maya, using her as a substitute for someone who can never come back. Mikey can't stand hearing Izana hum the same melody Emma would to him after Shinichiro died. Izana's eyes narrow at the accusation, a flicker of defensiveness crossing his features. "And what if I am?" he challenges, his voice low and dangerous. "What if I need Maya to be her?"

Mikey's chest tightens with a mix of anger and pity, his gaze hardening as he meets Izana's defiant stare. "Then you're not just messed up," he says quietly, his words heavy with disappointment. "You're delusional. Maya looks nothing like her—"

"Oh, and she looks so much like that little shit, Hanagaki, yeah?" Izana shoots back

Mikey's chest tightens at the mention of Hanagaki Takemichi, his jaw clenching with frustration. "That's not what I meant," he retorts, his voice sharp with irritation. "You're twisting my words."

Izana's smirk widens, a flash of malice glinting in his eyes. "Am I?" he taunts, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Seems like you're the one who can't handle the truth, Manjiro."

Mikey's gaze hardens, his frustration mounting with each word Izana utters. "Don't play games with me, Izana," he warns, his voice tinged with anger. "You know exactly what I meant. Maya is not Emma"

Izana scoffs. Izana's smirk falters for a moment, replaced by a calculating glint in his eyes. "It was all fun and fine until Emma was brought up, wasn't it?" he retorts, his voice carrying a sharp edge of accusation. "You can't handle the truth when it hits too close to home, can you, Manjiro? So what if Maya doesn't look like her? I don't care. Honestly, she shouldn't look like her— Like Emma and that stupid bitch"

Mikey frowns but before he can say anything back to his brother, Maya stirs again, whimpering a little. They both watch as one of her hands comes up and fists the satin material of Izana's red shirt, grasping at it for dear life. Mikey's frown deepens, his gaze softening as he watches Maya's restless movements. The sight of her clutching onto Izana's shirt tugs at something deep within him, a mixture of concern and affection welling up inside him. "She's just a kid" he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.

"She's 22" Izana interjects, pulling Maya into his arms

Mikey rolls his eyes. Okay so Izana could infantilize her as much as he wants but the moment he does it, it's wrong? Mikey's frustration bubbles to the surface, his brows furrowing at Izana's retort. "That's not the point, aniki," he counters, his tone edged with irritation. "You know what I meant."

Izana's smirk remains, but there's a flicker of annoyance in his eyes at Mikey's defiance. "Always so sensitive, Manjiro," he chides, his voice tinged with amusement. "But fine, let's focus on the present then. Maya is staying here, why I want her shouldn't be your business. Okay?"

Mikey's frustration lingers, but he relents with a heavy sigh, realizing the futility of further argument. "Fine" he mutters, his tone resigned

Izana expects Mikey to leave but he doesn't. Instead, Mikey climbs into bed with them on the other side of Maya and puts an arm around her waist, pressing his face into her hair. Maya, nestled between them, finds solace in their embrace, her breathing steady against the backdrop of their shared silence. Maya shifts slightly, instinctively seeking comfort from the warmth of their embrace, and Izana and Mikey hold her close, their arms forming a cocoon around her exhausted form. In the intimacy of their shared embrace, the tension between Izana and Mikey begins to ebb away. Izana brushes his fingers lightly over her hair, a subtle assertion of his presence in her life. Beside him, Mikey's arm around her waist speaks volumes, a silent declaration of his shielding stance. "Aniki..." Mikey murmurs

"yeah?"

"do you miss her?"

"Emma?"

"Yeah"

"Sometimes..."

After a moment of silence, Mikey speaks up again "Do you regret it?"

Izana's jaw tightens, a flicker of conflict crossing his features as he wrestles with his answer. His gaze drifts to Maya once more, her innocent slumber a stark contrast to the complexities of their shared history. "I don't know," he confesses, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "Maybe... Do you think Emma's cursing at me?"

"100%" Manjiro answers, sliding a hand under Maya's shirt to feel her skin beneath his palm and the tips of his fingers

Mikey's response is immediate, his touch gentle yet possessive as he seeks solace in the warmth of Maya's skin. Izana watches in silence, his own thoughts swirling amidst the tangled web of their emotions. The intimacy of the moment is both comforting and suffocating, a reminder of the complexities that bind them together. "You really think so?" Izana murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper as he traces a finger along Maya's cheek, his touch feather-light yet tinged with a sense of longing.

Mikey's gaze remains fixed on Maya, his fingers trailing over her soft skin with a tenderness that belies the turmoil within him. "Yeah," he replies, his voice soft yet resolute "Maya probably hates us"

Izana chuckles. "no she doesn't."

Mikey's brows furrow at Izana's certainty, a mixture of confusion and disbelief crossing his features. "How can you be so sure?" he asks, his tone tinged with skepticism.

Izana brushes Maya's messily cut fringes away from her forehead. "she loves like a dog"

Mikey's eyes widen slightly at Izana's comparison, a hint of surprise mingling with the confusion in his expression. "Like a dog?" he echoes, his tone laced with uncertainty.

Izana nods, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips as he watches Maya sleep peacefully between them. "Yeah," he explains, his voice gentle yet matter-of-fact. "She's loyal, forgiving, and loves unconditionally, no matter what we do."

The weight of Izana's words hangs heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the quiet intimacy of the moment. Mikey's gaze softens as he watches Maya sleep, her features relaxed in the innocence of slumber. "she's like... hm... Like a stray dog on the street but... instead of begging for food she begs for love even in places she shouldn't..." Izana continues, looking at Maya fondly despite what he's saying

Mikey's brow furrows deeper, his mind grappling with the analogy Izana presents. "A stray dog?" he murmurs, his voice reflecting both contemplation and a touch of sadness. The comparison paints a vivid picture in his mind, one that he can't quite shake off.

—after all, abusive relationships come easy when loving like a stray dog.

"Hey, how're you feeling now?" Mikey's voice is gentle as he takes Maya's hand and guides her onto his lap as he sits on the single-seat couch

It's early in the afternoon now. Maya had showered and was surprised to find that the door of the master bedroom connecting to the rest of the house was unlocked. Taking a chance she went out and found Kakucho in the kitchen cooking with Izana and Mikey sitting in front of the tv watching reruns of some anime. Despite having slept for a lot longer, Maya felt tired. But even then she forced herself to get out of bed and shower. She's wearing shorts and a random shirt that she's pretty sure belongs to Mikey. Maya settles onto Mikey's lap, his arms wrapping around her in a tight embrace. She leans into him, feeling strangely comforted by his possessive hold. "I'm okay," she murmurs softly, her voice barely above a whisper as she(almost reluctantly) nuzzles against his chest, relishing in the warmth of his presence.

Mikey's grip tightens around her, a faint smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he strokes her hair gently. "You're such a delicate little thing, aren't you?" he coos "You slept at night then had another nap in the morning 'n you're still tired. Kinda like a little baby"

Maya nods slightly, feeling a pang of guilt at Mikey's words for some reason, barely noticing how patronizing he was being. "I'm sorry," she murmurs softly, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "I didn't mean to sleep so much."

Mikey's smirk widens, his tone taking on a hint of amusement. "Don't worry about it, baby," he says, his fingers tracing idle circles on her back. "You need your rest. We'll take care of you."

There's something in the way Mikey speaks, a subtle insistence that leaves Maya feeling simultaneously comforted and uneasy. She knows she should assert her independence once again, but the warmth of Mikey's embrace is too tempting to resist. Mikey continues to stroke Maya's hair, his touch gentle yet possessive, as if he's claiming her as his own. "You know, Maya," he murmurs, his voice low and coaxing as he repeats "you don't have to worry about anything when you're with us. We'll take care of you, make sure you're safe and happy."

Maya's heart flutters at his words, a mixture of gratitude and apprehension swirling within her. She appreciates Mikey's concern, but there's an underlying sense of unease nagging at the back of her mind. Still, she finds herself nodding in agreement, unable to resist the allure of his soothing words. "Good," Mikey says, his tone tinged with satisfaction

With that, he pulls her closer, enveloping her in his embrace as if shielding her from the uncertainties of the outside world. But then again, the only uncertainty here was him. But still, Maya nodded, finding comfort in his words despite the unease that gnawed at her. "Okay" she relented, allowing herself to relax into his embrace.

"That's my girl," Mikey said, his voice filled with satisfaction then repeated, "Now, just relax and let us take care of you."

That's my girl

Maya hates herself for being so weak for simple words. A sense of warmth washed over Maya, but beneath it, a nagging doubt lingered. "I know," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I still feel guilty for sleeping so much."

Mikey's smile widened, his fingers tracing gentle circles on her back. "You have nothing to feel guilty about," he assured her

Just before Maya could say anything else, Kakucho came over with two cups of coffee on a tray. She suddenly feels very conscious of the position she's currently in— sitting on Mikey's lap, wearing his shirt, nestled into his chest with his arms around her. Sure Kakucho has seen her in relatively... worse positions but, right now as she's still mad at him, Maya doesn't like it. Kakucho however, doesn't bat an eye because he in fact has seen much worse. He simply set the tray down on the coffee table, his gaze lingering on Maya and Mikey for a moment before he spoke. "Coffee's ready" he said, his voice calm and collected.

Maya nodded, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she awkwardly shifted on Mikey's lap, attempting to create some distance between them. "Th-thanks, Kakucho," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Mikey chuckled softly, tightening his grip around her waist so she doesn't try to slide off. "Don't be shy, babe," he teased, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Kakucho doesn't mind."

Maya's cheeks grew even hotter at his words, a mixture of embarrassment and frustration swirling within her. She shot Mikey a pointed glare before turning her attention to Kakucho, forcing a polite smile onto her lips. "Thanks for the coffee," she mumbled, reaching for one of the cups with trembling hands.

Kakucho nodded in response, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He must think she wasn't mad at him anymore since she wasn't glaring at him. "Anytime," he replied, his tone gentle. "Let me know if you need anything else."

With that, he turned and walked away. Maya watched Kakucho's retreating figure, her mind swirling with conflicting emotions. She couldn't shake the feeling of discomfort that lingered in the air, a silent reminder of the tension between them. Despite her attempts to appear calm and composed, Maya knew that her anger towards Kakucho had not dissipated. Mikey's arms around her provided a sense of security, but Maya couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at her insides. She shifted uncomfortably on his lap, her thoughts racing as she struggled to make sense of the situation.

"Are you okay, Maya?" Mikey's voice interrupted her thoughts, his concern evident in his tone.

Maya forced a small smile, hoping to conceal the turmoil raging within her. "Yeah, I'm fine," she lied, her voice betraying her true feelings.

Mikey studied her for a moment, his gaze penetrating yet oddly comforting. "You don't seem fine" he remarked, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on her back.

Maya sighed, feeling the weight of her emotions pressing down on her. "I'm just really tired" she mumbles, fingers wrapping around the hot ceramic cup

She doesn't think telling Mikey that she was mad at Kakucho was a good idea. She vaguely remembers Kakucho often getting in trouble and beaten by Izana because of her. Maybe she was really mad at him but Maya doesn't want Kakucho to be punished. Mikey's expression softened, his concern deepening as he studied Maya's tired features. "You should rest then," he suggested gently, his thumb brushing against her cheek in a tender gesture. "We can talk about it later if you want, but for now, just focus on taking care of yourself."

Maya nodded gratefully, appreciating Mikey's understanding of what she wanted him to think. She took a sip of the steaming coffee, relishing in its warmth as it spread through her body. Despite her exhaustion, Maya couldn't shake the lingering unease that tugged at her thoughts. As she leaned back against Mikey's chest, she couldn't help but wonder about the complexities of her relationship with Kakucho. Despite his past actions, Maya couldn't bring herself to harbour genuine resentment toward him. She knew that his intentions were often misguided, but somehow she felt he was almost in a similar situation as her. Deep down, Maya knew that her anger towards Kakucho was born out of frustration and fear rather than genuine animosity. She feared the repercussions of her actions, knowing that any misstep could result in punishment for Kakucho.

Lost in her thoughts, Maya found herself clinging to Mikey's comforting presence, seeking solace in the warmth of his embrace. As Maya nestled into Mikey's embrace, she caught sight of Izana entering the room, a cup of coffee in hand. His presence sent a shiver down her spine, reminding her of the tension that simmered beneath the surface of their interactions. Izana settled onto the sofa across from them with his own cup, his gaze flickering over to Maya with a calculating expression. "Feeling better, I see," he remarked casually, his tone devoid of warmth.

Maya forced a smile, trying to mask the unease that churned within her. "Yeah, just needed some... rest..." she replied, her voice sounding small in the vastness of the room filled with natural sunlight.

It's a beautiful fucking day outside. It seems like nature is mocking her. Mikey's grip around her tightened subtly. Izana took a sip of his coffee, his eyes lingering on Maya with an intensity that made her squirm uncomfortably. "Good," he said finally, his lips curling into a faint smirk. "You should take care of yourself, Maya. After all, you're the most valuable asset we have right now."

"I don't see how I am..." Maya replies, feeling kind of uncomfortable now

Izana chuckled softly, a cold glint flashing in his eyes. "Oh, but you are," he insisted, his tone laced with thinly veiled menace. "You have a... unique skill set that could prove quite beneficial to our operations."

"Aniki stop fucking with her" Mikey says rolling his eyes, guiding Maya's hand up and taking a sip out of her cup rather than getting his own that was sitting idly on the coffee table "he's just being stupid"

Maya felt a surge of gratitude towards Mikey for intervening, his protective gesture providing a fleeting sense of relief amidst the oppressive atmosphere. Izana's smirk widened, his gaze flickering between Mikey and Maya with a knowing glint. "Ah, but she's such fun to tease," he remarked casually, though there was a dangerous edge to his tone. "Aren't you having fun, bunny?"

"no not really" Maya says as Mikey continues drinking from her cup

Mikey's lips twitched into a faint smile as he took another sip from Maya's cup, his eyes never leaving Izana's. "See, Maya's not amused," he quipped, his voice laced with subtle defiance.

Izana's smile faltered for a moment, replaced by a flicker of annoyance before he regained his composure. "Well, we can't have that, can we?" he replied, his tone taking on a mockingly pleasant quality. "After all, what's the point of having you here if you're not going to entertain us?"

Maya's stomach churned at Izana's words, a cold shiver running down her spine. She could feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating, as the power dynamics between Mikey and Izana played out before her. "Have you ever considered not being an asshole?" Mikey asks his brother

"No actually but I'll consider it someday, Manjiro" Izana says teasingly, taking another sip out of his cup

Maya thinks this guy just enjoys being an asshole which isn't surprising. She would psychoanalyze him but her head is still a complete mess and she hasn't completely recovered from withdrawals to even want to think. "Anyway, I'm going back to Tokyo with Kakucho tonight. We're finalizing the deals with the Korean mafia, I'll be back in 2-3 days" Izana tells Manjiro

"Hm? Oh, do you need me too?" Mikey asks

"Nah, just stay here," Izana says "Kisaki said the fewer people involved in the deal, the better"

Maya's heart sank at the mention of Izana leaving, a mixture of relief and apprehension flooding her senses. She couldn't deny that a part of her was glad to have a temporary reprieve from his unsettling presence, but she also couldn't shake the nagging feeling that his absence would only bring more uncertainty and chaos. As Izana's words hung in the air, Maya found herself bracing for whatever came next, knowing all too well that the calm before the storm was often the most deceptive.

"w-wait" Maya slurs weakly as Mikey sucks lazily at her clit

She just feels the vibration of his lips when he hums against her, his fingers thrusting in and out at a slow pace. Her fingers tighten their grip on Mikey's hair, torn between pushing his head away and pulling him even closer. He's pulling the nth orgasm out of her of that night. Izana and Kakucho had left hours ago and how she ended up like this was really beyond her at this point. Her thighs are squeezing Mikey's head as she breathes heavily, letting out a mixture of moans and whimpers of his name. "M-Mikey... 's too much" Maya slurs weakly, pulling more on his hair

He groans against her cunt and she whimpers at the vibrations that go through her. It feels good. Everything feels good. Mikey learned what her body likes and what it doesn't. Mikey knew how to make her feel good and it's both a blessing and a curse. When she seemed even a little bit angry or her mood seemed off, Mikey would slide right between her legs and work his magic to make her feel better even if it wasn't him that was the cause of her negative emotions/attitude. "you can do a few more f'me, baby" Mikey coos sweetly after releasing her clit

Just how can she say no when he's asking so nicely? His thumb makes slow figure 8s on her clit and her legs wrap tighter around his head as her eyes roll back. Maya's fingers grip desperately at the sheets, her body so torn between keeping him close and pushing him away. "hey baby, ya' gotta ease up" Mikey says as he uses his free hands to pry her legs apart "I know it feels good and as much as I love you squeezing my head like that, ya' gotta ease up"

Maya's whimper sounds more like a sob this time as his fingers speed up after he slides up her body, pressing his forehead against hers. His hand stays nestled between her thighs with a knee keeping her legs spread for him. "A-Ah Mikey!" She whines, her eyes filling with tears and immediately spilling like an overflowing sink, her hands desperately grabbing at his clothed shoulders

Mikey is looking at her with dark eyes filled with both adoration and lust. "you're such a pretty crier" He coos sweetly, his lips brushing against hers

His fingers are working expertly on her cunt in a way he knows feels good. It almost wasn't fair how good this felt, how good he was making her feel. "M-Mikey... I... I can't" she whines, her nails digging into his clothed shoulder

Mikey simply hushes her, looking down at Maya with a look that makes her stomach twist. "You can take it" he murmurs, voice laced with encouragement as his free hand brushes her messily cut fringes away from her sweaty forehead "You've done so well for me so far, baby. 'm so proud of you... Don't you want to make me even prouder?"

That wasn't fair. Mikey knew how weak praises like that made her. How could she not want to make him proud? How could she not want to make him happy? How could she not give in when he was looking at her so softly and talking to her in such a gentle tone? "'kay... o-okay... c-can do it..." Maya's words come out slurred as another orgasm approaches when Mikey's fingers start moving faster

Maya squeezes her eyes shut but Mikey suddenly slows the pace of his thumb on her clit. "hey. eyes on me. keep them open" He demands, the tone of his voice slightly changing from soft and sweet to authoritative and stern

She's gasping out for air at this point. Her body is overly spent and her mind is exhausted but she listens to him anyway, glazed blue eyes meeting endless black ones. "good girl. good girl. Now keep them open for me. I want to see your eyes when you come"

It feels like there isn't enough air but also too much at the same time. Maya has lost count of the amount of times Mikey has made her come. It feels like her brain is melting into a pile of mush and her nerves are on fire. But still, nothing hurts yet. She just feels so overwhelmed by pleasure it's simply too much. Maybe it's the combination of how he's touching her, how he's talking to her and how he's looking at her that makes everything just too much all at once. "Mikey... M-Mikey... 'm gonna..." She can't even finish her sentence

Usually, if Mikey was in the mood of being a little bit mean, he'd make her say it. But right now he's not feeling that way and instead encourages her. "shh, go ahead sweetheart. come for me"

So she does. Maya is trembling as she comes around Mikey's fingers, her nails digging into his clothed shoulders and tears running down her cheeks like an endless stream. Her thighs tense up and not once does she close her eyes because Mikey asked her not to. How could she deny him when he asked so nicely? Mikey's fingers keep expertly working on her cunt in just the way he knows feels good for her, helping her ride out her orgasm and simultaneously using his knee to keep her thighs spread. Her orgasm ends and Mikey's eyes are wide, looking at her with eyes full of awe. "M-Mikey, I... I can't" she whimpers weakly, trying to push his hand away from her cunt

Mikey just hushes her. "hm, but you looked so pretty... Your eyes look so pretty when you come"

It sounds like he's crooning at her. Or well, Maya thinks he is. She can hear her own heartbeat in her ears at this point. Everything feels like too much and she thinks if she comes again she'll really pass out. "Mikey—"

"C'mon baby, one more for me. I wanna see your eyes look like that again"

And just how can she say no when he's asking so nicely?

Maybe she does pass out or something because Maya doesn't remember how she ended up in the shower with Mikey. He's washing her hair and has a small smile on his face. She struggled to piece together the events that led her to this moment, the sensation of warm water cascading over her body and Mikey's gentle hands massaging shampoo into her hair. She turned her head slightly, her gaze meeting Mikey's as he stood behind her, gently massaging shampoo into her hair. His expression was serene, a small smile gracing his lips as he worked, his fingers moving with practiced care. "Mikey?" Maya's voice was barely a whisper, hoarse from disuse as she tried to piece together how she had ended up in the shower with him.

Mikey's smile widened at the sound of her voice, his touch gentle as he continued to wash her hair. "Hey there, baby," he murmured, his voice low and soothing. "You passed out, so I thought I'd help you freshen up a bit."

Maya's cheeks flushed with embarrassment at the realization that she had lost consciousness, her memory hazy and disjointed. He's practically holding her up or well somehow holding her up because her knees are weak. "close your eyes" he murmurs, hand on the knob of the shower to turn on the rain head shower above them

Maya obeys without a word and closes her eyes as he turns it on, warm water raining down on them both. Mikey runs his fingers through her hair as the shampoo is washed out of her hair. This entire thing feels oddly domestic and... She likes it. Maybe, just maybe, she can get used to this. It was horrible to be thinking that way. Giving in so easily. It was wrong but maybe after fighting for so long, after going through so much, she could. She should be allowed to right? It wasn't like she gave in after the first day. Maya fought for a month and 3 weeks. Sure she didn't remember two weeks out of that time but, she still fought for herself. Was it wrong to give in and give up? No, there was no one here to blame her for it when all they wanted from the beginning was for her to stop running.

Izana wanted her to stop, Mikey wanted her to stop and eventually, Kakucho did as well.

No one was going to miss her anyway. She was an orphan and had no friends. Chifuyu would move on from her death, the world would keep spinning and the sun would still shine.

No one will miss her and it would be okay because even if Izana is a sociopathic fucking asshole, Kakucho is a recanting bastard and, Mikey a liar— at least they're still here and at least they want her.

They want her and to Maya that's all that matters.

"and where are you going?" Izana asks Kisaki who is being uncharacteristically fidgety

"Just... Need to pick something up" Kisaki says pushing his glasses up his nose "You can go on ahead, no need to wait for me"

The city of Tokyo is bustling in the early afternoon. Their meeting with the Koreans was later in the evening and everything for that was already taken care of. They could do whatever they wanted for now but it seemed Kisaki had something to do and whatever that was is making him jumpy and nervous. Kisaki Tetta, Tokyo Manji Gang's number 2, nervous? Oh, Izana needed to know why. Izana narrows his eyes, observing Kisaki's unusual behaviour with keen interest. He's never seen Kisaki like this before—usually so composed and calculated, it's unsettling to witness him so agitated. "Is there something on your mind, Kisaki?" Izana inquires, his voice deceptively calm as he studies his second-in-command. He can sense that there's more to Kisaki's sudden restlessness than meets the eye.

Kisaki shifts uncomfortably under Izana's gaze, his usual facade of confidence wavering slightly. "It's nothing, Izana," he replies, attempting to brush off Izana's concern with a dismissive wave of his hand. But Izana isn't fooled by the nonchalant demeanour.

"Nothing?" Izana repeats, his tone laced with skepticism. "You seem rather preoccupied with 'nothing.' Don't make me repeat myself, Kisaki. What's going on?"

Kisaki hesitates for a moment, his gaze flickering away before meeting Izana's once more. "It's just a personal matter," he mumbles evasively, a hint of unease creeping into his voice. "I'll be back soon, I promise."

Izana's lips curl into a knowing smirk as he watches Kisaki's feeble attempt to deflect his inquiries. He may not have all the answers just yet, but one thing's for certain—whatever Kisaki is hiding, it's bound to be interesting. "Nope, I'm coming too"

"You're gonna get bored"

"I don't care"

To Izana's surprise, they end up at a high-end jewelry shop. Oh. Oh. Oh my god. "shut up you're proposing?" Izana has to resist the urge to laugh in Kisaki's face as the jeweller sets out designs of different engagement rings in front of them

Due to an unfortunate drunken confession some years back, the top members of the Tokyo Manji Gang knew about Kisaki Tetta's pining toward Tachibana Hinata. They laughed at him obviously because how in the world was Kisaki losing against Hanagaki-fucking-Takemichi who is an absolute loser and a literal moron with no fashion sense. Izana never let him live it down nor did Sanzu and Hanma. But now, it seemed that Kisaki was going to propose. It seemed like a stupid fucking idea in Izana's opinion but he won't voice that out loud because he wanted to see things crash and burn just for fun. Kisaki shoots Izana a glare, his embarrassment is evident in the crimson hue that tinges on his cheeks. "Shut up, Izana," he grumbles, though there's a hint of fondness underlying his exasperated tone.

The jeweller, sensing the tension between the two men, wisely decides to give them some space as they peruse through the selection of engagement rings. Izana leans back against the counter, folding his arms across his chest as he watches Kisaki with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. He never thought he'd see the day when Kisaki would be considering marriage, let alone to someone like Tachibana Hinata. "So, Tachibana Hinata, huh?" Izana remarks casually, raising an eyebrow inquisitively. "Never took you for the romantic type, Kisaki."

Kisaki's expression softens at the mention of Hinata's name, a wistful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "She's different," he admits quietly, his gaze distant as he recalls memories of their time together. "She's... she's everything, Izana. I can't imagine my life without her."

Izana observes Kisaki's genuine affection with a mixture of amusement and intrigue. Despite his outwardly cold and calculating demeanour, it's evident that Kisaki harbours deep feelings for Hinata, feelings that Izana never expected to witness firsthand. It's a side of Kisaki that few have ever seen, and honestly, it's really fucking weird considering the supervillain type of shit Kisaki does. This was the first time they were even talking about girls in a way that wasn't vulgar and just plain wrong. This was odd and Izana isn't sure he wants to continue this conversation because he'll actually have a stroke if he hears any more of that cheesy-cringy bullshit. "Well, then," Izana says with a smirk, pushing himself off the counter in hopes Kisaki takes the hint and drops it "Let's find the perfect ring for your perfect girl, shall we?"

Kisaki's eyes light up at the suggestion, his earlier nervousness replaced by a newfound determination. Together, they sift through the array of rings, each one more exquisite than the last. "What about your uh..." Kisaki pauses trying to look for the right word to describe whatever Kaneko Maya was for Kurokawa Izana

Kisaki's question about Maya prompts Izana to pause, his fingers hesitating over the delicate jewelry. "My bunny?" he repeats, the term rolling off his tongue with a mixture of macabre fondness and possessiveness. "She's... special."

Kisaki watches Izana closely, sensing the underlying complexity in his tone. Kisaki doesn't even know why the fuck he's asking. It seems that no matter how smart he is, he still can't avoid or stop himself from asking these weird and awkward questions. "Special how?"

Izana's gaze flickers with a myriad of emotions—affection, frustration, and a hint of vulnerability. "She's... like a wounded animal," he murmurs, his voice tinged with morbid fascination. "Broken and fragile, yet resilient in her own way. It's quite amusing to see"

Kisaki nods in understanding, recognizing the depth of Izana's feelings for Maya beneath the veneer of detachment. "And what are your intentions toward her?" he asks, his curiosity piqued now because the only person Kisaki himself would describe that way is Hanagaki Takemichi

Izana's lips quirked into a rueful smile, his eyes distant as he struggled to articulate the complexities of his emotions. "I don't know" he admits easily

Kisaki listens in silence, his expression is contemplative as he absorbs Izana's confession. He understands all too well the struggle between love and control, the desire to both nurture and possess. It's a delicate balance, one that Izana seems to grapple with on a daily basis. Kisaki also feels really bad for this girl. From what he'd heard from Sanzu and Shion, this girl was going to literal hell. Oh well. It's not his problem. As long as she doesn't become an obstacle in his plans, he could care less what happens to Kaneko Maya. "You think Tachibana will say yes?" Izana asks him all of a sudden

Kisaki's thoughts momentarily shift from the enigmatic nature of Izana's relationship with Maya to the more straightforward matter of Kisaki's own impending proposal. He blinks, taken aback by the sudden change in topic, but quickly recovers. "Tachibana?" Kisaki repeats, his mind refocusing on the matter at hand. "I... I hope so." There's a flicker of uncertainty in his voice, a rare display of vulnerability from the usually composed second-in-command of the Tokyo Manji Gang.

This was a weird conversation to have, especially after everything but, Izana had insisted on coming along, they were having an extremely uncomfortable conversation. Not extremely but it was just fucking weird to have with Kurokawa Izana of all people. "Well, then," Izana says, his voice tinged with a hint of mischief. "Let's make sure she can't say no, shall we?"

Kisaki's lips twitch into a small smile, a glimmer of hope igniting within him at Izana's words. "Yeah," he agrees quietly

Part of Mikey feels bad for Maya particularly when he sees her zoned out. But it is late in the afternoon, the sun is low and lighting up the master bedroom of the beach house in orange and yellow through the glass double doors leading out to the beach and he's lying on top of her, ear pressed to her sternum right where he can hear her heartbeat the loudest. It's perfect. Absolutely perfect. Maya isn't crying about going home anymore, neither is she under the influence of drugs to achieve that. Maya looks rather calm about being here which was a first. She'd been like that last night since after they showered together. Mikey was happy. He was so happy. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore provides a soothing backdrop to their shared intimacy, a reminder of the tranquillity that exists just beyond the confines of their secluded sanctuary. Mikey's fingers trace idle patterns on Maya's skin, his touch gentle yet possessive. He can't help but marvel at the sight of her lying beneath him, her features softened in the warm light. For the first time in what feels like an eternity, she seems at peace—no longer plagued by the torment of her past or the uncertainty of her future.

His heart swelled with a mixture of tenderness and guilt. He knows he shouldn't feel this way, shouldn't revel in the calm that comes from holding her captive against her will. But at this moment, with the world outside their little sanctuary fading into obscurity, it's easy to forget the consequences of their actions. Maya stirs slightly beneath him, her fingers tracing idle patterns against his back. Her eyes flutter open, meeting his with a gaze that's both questioning and vulnerable. "Mikey" she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper.

Mikey brushes a strand of hair away from her face, his touch gentle yet possessive. "Shh, it's okay," he whispers, his lips pressing against her forehead in a silent promise. "You're safe with me."

Maya doesn't say anything but her gaze doesn't shift from his eyes. She's just, looking at him. It feels nice. Mikey likes the way she's looking at him. He feels warm all over. It had been so long since someone made him feel like that. Her thumb brushes against his cheekbone and Mikey resists the urge to nuzzle into her palm even though he knows he can. "are you hungry? I can make you dinner" Maya says gently, her tone quiet

Mikey's stomach growls loudly in response to Maya's question, betraying his hunger despite the tranquillity of the moment. He chuckles softly, his lips quirking into a sheepish grin as he meets Maya's gaze. "Yeah, I could eat," he admits, his voice tinged with amusement. "But only if you let me help."

Maya smiles warmly, her eyes softening as she nods in agreement. "I'll think about"

Mikey's grin widens at the playful designation, his heart swelling with warmth at the prospect of spending more time with Maya in the kitchen. It's a simple gesture, but one that holds a deeper significance—a reminder of the ordinary moments that make life worth living, even in the midst of chaos and uncertainty. Together, they make their way to the kitchen, their laughter mingling with the sound of sizzling pans and clinking utensils. And as they prepare their meal side by side, Mikey can't help but marvel at the simple joy of domesticity. "You're really forgetful, aren't you?" Maya asks him as he's stirring the pot since it was the only thing he was good at

"hm, how?"

"Izana and Sanzu are always reminding you to eat" Maya says as she's washing something in the sink

Mikey thinks for a moment. "yeah. They are"

"That's nice of them. Izana's an asshole didn't think he had it in him to be a caring older brother"

Mikey's expectations were shattered when Maya didn't react the way he anticipated. He had braced himself for her to hurl accusations of laziness or belittle him like others had done in the past, particularly Draken. But instead, Maya's response was one of understanding and compassion.

He had been prepared for judgment, for being seen as weak or incompetent. After all, getting out of bed had become an insurmountable task after Emma's funeral 12 years ago. Draken's absence during this time, despite his own grief over Emma's passing, had left Mikey feeling abandoned and forgotten. Yes, Draken was grieving too but, Emma wasn't just anyone to Mikey; she was his sister, his anchor in a world of chaos and the reason he hadn't gone completely crazy. And when she was gone, Mikey found himself adrift, lost in a sea of grief and despair.

Mikey's downward spiral had been rapid and relentless. He couldn't muster the strength to get out of bed, shower, eat, or attend gang meetings—even with Sanzu's persistent attempts to rouse him. It wasn't until Izana intervened that Mikey began to see a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness that threatened to consume him.

Izana's arrival at the Sano household marked a turning point in Mikey's despair. With unwavering determination, Izana pulled him from the confines of his bed, coaxing him into the shower and gently tending to his neglected appearance. Mikey's hair was matted and unkempt after spending months in bed. Izana tried untangling his matted locks while Sanzu fed him. Izana salvaged what he could without shaving it all off and he ended up with short hair. Mikey threw up his food when he looked in the mirror and saw Shinichiro staring back at him.

Instead of admonishing Mikey for his self-neglect and vomiting, Izana offered comfort and reassurance in the simplest of gestures. Handing him a toothbrush with toothpaste.

Izana took care of him. When no one was there, Izana was the one that was still there. Izana took care of him alongside Sanzu. Had it not been for both of them, Mikey probably would have rotted and died in his room and no one would have noticed.

After months of radio silence when Mikey announced a gang meeting to get things back in order, no one was happy about merging Tenjiku with Toman. His so-called friends began to leave him one by one. They never let him explain himself, they didn't let him see Takemichi and they berated him for being around Izana who clearly had other intentions.

Sure Izana was manipulative, cruel and mean but Mikey was okay with that. Draken wasn't there for him when he needed him the most, nor was anyone else so why was everyone mad at him? Why did everyone else leave him while telling him he was the one to blame for Emma's death? Why was it his fault? It's not his fault. She died in his arms so why was everyone comforting Draken and not him? Why did everyone leave him? The memory of Emma's death weighs heavily on Mikey's heart, a constant reminder of the pain and loss that he carries with him every day. He can still feel her life slipping away beneath his fingertips, and hear the echo of her final breaths as they fade into the darkness.

And yet, amidst the turmoil and despair, there is one constant source of solace—the unwavering presence of Izana by his side. Despite Izana's harsh words and cruel demeanour, Mikey finds a strange sense of comfort in his older brother's presence, a reminder that he is not alone in his pain. "Yeah... Would probably die without him" Mikey says with a small smile

In return, Maya smiles. Maybe she knows. Maya looks like she knows Mikey isn't doing well and she just reaches over and brushes a stray black lock behind his ear tenderly. "do you psychiatrists have a 6th sense or something?" he asks playfully "At your graduation do they give you the power of telepathy?"

Maya laughs and shakes her head no. "I just know"

It was nice. Having someone around who understood. It was nice having Maya around and he hopes that her acceptance of the situation isn't temporary. Mikey leans over and presses a light kiss to her lips. She's smiling, he's smiling. Maya is looking at him with those pretty eyes of hers and he likes this so much. Mikey hopes things stay like this and Maya doesn't fall out of the illusion she's put herself into.

If Maya were to ever turn away from him, to reject the love he so desperately craves, Mikey knows that he would do whatever it takes to keep her by his side. Even if it means resorting to drastic measures—to drugging her and starting all over again. Mikey would do it all again without batting an eye. He'd drug her, bring her back through the whole cycle of addiction and withdrawals and be right there for her as a saviour. "Does it taste good?" she asks as he eats

Mikey just smiles and nods and asks her to feed him which she does without question. Mikey is happy. He's been feeling that way since she got here and nothing, nothing in the world will take this away from him. Not again. He'll cling to Izana, he'll keep Maya. Mikey could care less about the voice in his head telling him they'll leave. He doesn't care. Mikey doesn't want to feel sad anymore. He refuses it. Mikey wants to stay happy and be selfish for once.

If his happiness is at the cost of Maya's freedom, so be it.

It's late. About 11 pm. Maya stirs from her slumber, her senses gradually awakening to the hushed stillness of the night. The soft rhythm of Mikey's breathing beside her lulls her back to consciousness, his presence a comforting anchor in the darkness. As she lies there, enveloped in the warmth of their shared bed, memories of the past few weeks flicker through her mind like fragments of a half-remembered dream. Since arriving at the beach house, her days have blurred together in a haze of sleep and solitude, punctuated only by the occasional interaction with Mikey or Izana. And yet, despite the tranquillity of their surroundings, Maya can't shake the lingering sense of unease that gnaws at her insides. Izana's presence looms like a shadow over her thoughts, a constant reminder of the darkness that lurks beneath the surface of their seemingly idyllic existence. But for now, in the quiet stillness of the night, Maya finds herself grateful for the reprieve from Izana's torment. Sure, he's been mean and cruel in the past, but at least he hasn't hurt her recently. At least he hasn't forced pills down her throat or subjected her to his twisted games. In the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the window, Maya watches Mikey's sleeping form beside her, his features softened by the gentle embrace of sleep. "so... pretty..." she murmured quietly, brushing a stray black strand of Mikey's hair away from his forehead

He's snoring and kind of drooling into the pillow but it's still cute. Mikey looks pretty. Maya's fingers linger on Mikey's forehead, tracing the gentle contours of his face with a tenderness that belies the tumult of her thoughts. In the soft glow of the moonlight, his features are softened by the embrace of sleep, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. She doesn't understand how someone this gorgeous could be on Japan's most wanted list. For all his faults and flaws, Mikey is a paradox—a complex tapestry of light and darkness, kindness and cruelty, love and loss. And yet, in the quiet stillness of the night, he is simply Mikey—vulnerable and imperfect, yet undeniably beautiful in his own way. As Maya sits up, her gaze drifts away from Mikey's sleeping form, a flush of embarrassment coloring her cheeks at the realization of how long she's been watching him sleep. She chides herself inwardly for indulging in such a seemingly intrusive habit, feeling like an unwelcome voyeur in the sanctity of Mikey's rest.

Shaking off the unease, Maya reaches for the glass of water on the bedside table, the cool liquid soothing her parched throat as she takes a sip. The silence of the night surrounds her like a heavy blanket, punctuated only by the soft rustle of the bedsheets and the distant murmur of the ocean beyond.

Despite her best efforts to quell her racing thoughts, Maya finds herself unable to drift back into the embrace of sleep. She puts the glass back down and her hand knocks against the bedside table. "ow" she mutters, rubbing the back of her hand and turning on the small lamp

She looks over at Mikey hoping he didn't wake up from the sound. Relieved that Mikey remains undisturbed by the sound, Maya exhales a soft sigh and turns her attention back to the bedside table. The dim light of the lamp casts a warm glow across the room as she opens the drawer, curious to see what lies within. Inside, nestled amidst a jumble of miscellaneous items, Maya finds a small black box. She picks it up without thinking and opens it. Inside are... Polaroid pictures?

Oh.

Maya knows what these are without even looking at them. These were the Polaroid pictures Izana was talking about. The pictures taken in those 2 weeks she has no memory of. Maya's heart skips a beat as she gazes down at the box of Polaroid pictures, her fingers trembling slightly as she contemplates what lies within. A sense of curiosity washes over her, tinged with a hint of apprehension, as she lifts the lid and peers inside. As she sifts through the photographs, a sense of wonder washes over Maya. The images are surprisingly tender and intimate, a testament to the unexpected romance that unfolded during those lost weeks.

Was this...

No way. Maya expected something crazy to have happened during those two weeks. She expected to see pictures where she was crying or something absolutely disgusting happening to her but no. None of that is in any of the polariods. Rather... Something else.

Maya's fingers tremble slightly as she gingerly lifts the first Polaroid out of the box, her heart fluttering in her chest at the anticipation of what she might find. But as her eyes land on the image before her, her breath catches in her throat, her cheeks flushing crimson at the sight of the intimate photograph. In the picture, she and Mikey are locked in a passionate embrace, their lips pressed together in a tender kiss. The angle of the shot obscures their faces, leaving only their silhouettes illuminated by the soft glow of the room. Mikey's bare chest is visible, the contours of his muscles highlighted in the dim light, while Maya's own form is shrouded in shadow, leaving her uncertain of her own state of dress. A wave of embarrassment washes over Maya as she realizes the implications of the photograph—that someone else must have been present to capture this intimate moment between her and Mikey. She puts the photo down back in the box and looks at the next.

Maya's breath catches in her throat as she lifts the next Polaroid from the box, her eyes widening in surprise at the unexpected sight before her. In the photograph, she finds herself straddling Kakucho's lap, their bodies pressed close together in an intimate embrace. Despite the darkness obscuring her face, Maya can feel the heat rising in her cheeks at the sheer intimacy of the scene. Unlike the previous picture with Mikey, both she and Kakucho are fully clothed, a small relief amidst the whirlwind of emotions coursing through her. Kakucho's face is illuminated by a soft glow, his lips curved into a gentle smile that sends a flutter of warmth through Maya's chest. She can't help but notice the split in his bottom lip Her face remains hidden from view, shrouded in shadow, but Kakucho's expression is clear for all to see. She doesn't remember this moment, doesn't recall ever being in such close proximity to Kakucho in such a seemingly intimate manner. And yet, there they are, captured in a snapshot of time. She doesn't at all remember this and kind of hates that she lost this memory. Maya's heart skips a beat as she notices her index finger tracing the scar that mars Kakucho's face and his arms wrapped around her.

That was enough for her to look at. She puts it back into the box and picks up another which is of her and Mikey. Unlike the previous picture of them, this looks a lot more... Softer? No, cute would be the right word. Her face is visible for once and her pupils are blown out, eyes red-rimmed. She's clearly high in the picture. She's smiling— laughing— her lips smudged with lipstick and Mikey's face is littered with lipstick kisses. Maya puts that picture down after long minutes of just staring at it and picks up another.

It seems that this was of the same day. This next picture was just of Kakucho. It's his side profile. He's lying down somewhere with a cigarette between his lips, lipstick kisses littering his face as well and what looks like her hand tangled in his black locks. Maya turns as red as the lipstick and puts it back in the box.

The next picture makes her almost choke on her own spit. Her face isn't visible. Actually, there isn't anyone's face. It's just Maya's body and Izana's hand. She's fully clothed in it. Izana is barely in the picture, the only thing there is his hand that rests possessively on her chest, tanned fingers curled around her breast in a brazen display of ownership. She feels so shy looking at it. It's odd, she thinks, that Izana hadn't shown her this picture earlier, hadn't used it to mock her or make some crude comment. In fact, as she studies the photograph, a sense of curiosity overtakes her, a desire to understand the intentions behind Izana's actions.

Polaroids couldn't be copied, she realizes, which means this was the only copy there was. She could destroy it, erase it from existence, and yet, a part of her hesitates. Despite the discomfort and embarrassment she feels, there's a strange sense of intimacy in the image, a connection that defies logic and reason. Closing her eyes, Maya takes a deep breath, willing herself to calm the tumultuous storm raging within her. She knows she should feel outraged, should feel violated by Izana's brazen display of dominance. And yet, there's a part of her that can't help but be drawn to the raw intensity of his touch even through the photograph. Even with this picture, just like the rest, it's obvious someone else had taken it.

She puts the picture back and picks up another. It was another one of her and Izana, this one in the living room and a lot softer compared to the last. Izana is lying on his back on the couch and Maya is on top of him. Her head is on his chest and his arms are wrapped around her. In this photograph, Izana and Maya are captured in a moment of rare vulnerability, their bodies entwined on the couch in the living room. Unlike the previous pictures, there's a palpable sense of intimacy in this one—a tenderness that belies the tumultuous nature of their relationship. It's as if time itself has stood still, freezing this fleeting moment of connection in amber for eternity.

As Maya continues to sift through the Polaroids, she discovers a series of images that range from intimate to erotic, each one revealing a different facet of her relationship with Mikey and Izana. Some depict tender moments of affection, while others capture more passionate encounters, their bodies entwined in a dance of desire and longing. But amidst the array of photographs, there's a common thread that runs through them all—the undeniable bond that exists between them, forged in the fires of adversity and strengthened by the trials they have faced together. As Maya gazes at each image in turn, she can't help but feel a sense of awe and disbelief at the depth of emotion captured within each frame.

The problem, however, lies not in the content of the photographs, but in the absence of memory that accompanies them. Maya struggles to reconcile the images before her with the blank canvas of her own recollection, unable to recall a single moment of the intimacy they portray. It's a disconcerting realization, to say the least. Here she was, expecting to uncover evidence of unspeakable acts, only to be confronted with a series of tender moments that she can't even remember experiencing. Mikey and Izana had indeed taken care of her, as they claimed, but the extent of their efforts had been shrouded in a fog of oblivion. Closing her eyes, Maya takes a deep breath, attempting to make sense of the conflicting emotions swirling within her. On one hand, there's a sense of relief that the truth isn't as sinister as she had feared. On the other hand, there's a profound sense of loss at the realization that she had been robbed of the memories of those two weeks. "Baby?" She hears Mikey say, his voice groggy from sleep "Whatcha' lookin' at?"

Mikey's arm goes around her waist and his chin hooks over her shoulder. "Ah," he murmurs, his fingers tightening slightly around her waist. "You found them, huh? Izana must've left them there."

Maya turns to look at him, a furrow forming between her brows. "Why would he leave them there?" she asks, confusion evident in her voice.

Mikey shrugs, his lips quirking into a small smile. "Probably forgot about them," he replies nonchalantly, though there's a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. "Or maybe he wanted you to find them."

Maya's gaze flickers back to the photographs, her mind racing with questions and uncertainties. What was Izana's motive behind leaving them there? Was it a gesture of remorse, or something more sinister? As she searches for answers in the images before her, Maya can't help but feel a sense of unease settle over her. The Polaroids offer glimpses into a world she can't remember, a world filled with intimacy and connection that she struggles to reconcile with her own fragmented memories. "I... I didn't expect to find... this. I'm... Trying to... make sense of everything." she mumbles, her voice tinged with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity.

Mikey's grip tightens around her waist, his touch offering silent reassurance in the midst of her turmoil. "You don't have to make sense of everything, pretty," he whispers, his lips brushing against her ear. "Just take it one day at a time."

Maya is silent, trying to think— to remember but— "Don't think so hard, baby" Mikey says, pulling the box easily out of her hands and reaching over her to set it on the bedside table "Everything's fine. Let's just get to sleep"

Maya nods wordlessly, grateful for Mikey's reassurance. She watches as he sets the box back on the bedside table, her mind still swirling with unanswered questions and unresolved emotions. But as Mikey pulls her close, his warmth enveloping her like a comforting blanket, Maya feels a sense of calm wash over her. "Yeah, you're right," she murmurs, turning off the lamp before she snuggles closer to him, seeking solace in his embrace. "Let's just get some sleep."

Mikey presses a gentle kiss to the top of her head, his arms tightening around her as they settle back into the soft embrace of the bed. In the quiet darkness of the room, Maya allows herself to relax, the weight of the Polaroids and their implications fading into the background as she drifts off into a peaceful slumber.

As the first rays of dawn filter through the curtains, painting the room in a soft, golden hue, Maya stirs from her slumber, feeling more rested than she has in weeks. The weight of exhaustion that had plagued her for so long seems to have lifted, replaced by a sense of tranquillity and contentment. Beside her, Mikey is still asleep, his features softened by the gentle light of morning. Maya watches him for a moment, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she recalls their conversation from the night before. After their first night together weeks ago, Mikey had confessed, in a sleepy murmur, that he hadn't slept that well in ages without the aid of sleeping pills. It had been a vulnerable admission, one that had touched Maya in ways she couldn't quite explain. Now, as she watches him sleep, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, Maya can't help but feel a surge of affection for the man lying beside her. Despite the tumultuous circumstances that had brought them together, there's a sense of peace and belonging that settles over her like a warm embrace. With a gentle sigh, Maya reaches out to brush a stray lock of hair away from Mikey's forehead, her touch light and tender. As her finger is about to trail down the side of his face, he suddenly grabs her hand and Maya gasps in surprise. Mikey's grip on Maya's hand is firm yet gentle, his touch sending a shiver down her spine. Startled by his sudden movement, Maya meets his gaze, finding a mix of emotions swirling in the depths of his dark sleepy eyes. "s-sorry did I wake you?" she whispers

Mikey's grip on Maya's hand tightens slightly, his thumb tracing circles over the back of her hand as he shakes his head slowly. "No, you didn't wake me," he murmurs, his voice still thick with sleep. "I was already awake."

Maya's heart skips a beat at the intensity of his gaze, the raw vulnerability that flickers in the depths of his dark eyes. There's something in the way he looks at her, something unspoken yet undeniable, that sends a rush of warmth flooding through her veins. For a moment, they simply gaze at each other, the air between them heavy with unspoken words and unspoken emotions. It's as if time has slowed to a standstill, allowing them to exist in this moment of quiet intimacy, where nothing else matters except the connection they share. Feeling emboldened by the silent exchange, Maya leans in closer, her breath mingling with Mikey's as she closes the distance between them. Their lips meet in a gentle kiss, soft and tentative yet filled with a depth of emotion that words could never convey. As they pull away, Maya finds herself lost in the warmth of Mikey's embrace, his arms wrapped around her in a silent promise of love and protection. In this moment, surrounded by the soft light of dawn and the gentle rhythm of their breath, Maya knows that she is exactly where she belongs—wrapped in the arms of the man she loves.

Or well, the man she thinks she loves. This is love, right? It has to be. Mikey makes her heart flutter, he makes her feel warm. So, it has to be love right? Right? Is it too soon to call this love? Too soon to surrender herself to the intoxicating allure of Mikey's embrace? Or is she merely fooling herself, grasping at the illusion of love in a desperate bid to fill the void within her heart? It has to be love. This is what books described love to be. So that's what it has to be. She has to be in love with Mikey. "So," he says, his voice lightening with amusement, snapping her out of her thoughts "what's on the agenda for today?"

Maya chuckles softly, the tension of the moment dissipating as she meets Mikey's gaze with a playful glint in her eyes. "Well," she begins, a mischievous smile playing on her lips, "I was thinking we could start with breakfast. And then, who knows? The day is full of possibilities."

Mikey's eyes light up and then go dark. She's pushed onto her back, Mikey's knee slotting between her thighs as he gets on top of her, pinning her to the mattress. "how about a little snack before breakfast?" He murmurs, the tip of his nose knocking against hers

Maya's breath catches in her throat as Mikey's sudden change in demeanour catches her off guard. Her heart races in her chest as she feels the weight of his body pressing down on her, his proximity sending a thrill of anticipation coursing through her veins. His knee between her thighs sends a jolt of electricity through her, igniting a fire that smoulders in the depths of her being. For a moment, time seems to stand still as they gaze into each other's eyes, a silent exchange of desire passing between them. The playful banter of moments ago is replaced by an electric tension, thick with unspoken longing and primal need. As Mikey's breath ghosts across her skin, Maya's pulse quickens, her senses heightened by the intoxicating proximity of the man she yearns for. She can feel the heat of his body seeping into her skin, his scent enveloping her like a warm embrace. With a soft gasp, Maya surrenders to the magnetic pull between them, her fingers tangling in the soft black strands of Mikey's hair as she pulls him closer. In this moment, there are no doubts, no uncertainties—only the raw, unbridled passion that courses through their veins, binding them together in a dance as old as time itself.

As their lips meet in a fevered kiss, the world falls away, leaving only the two of them lost in the throes of desire. And as they lose themselves in each other, Maya knows with a certainty that transcends words—this is love, in all its messy, beautiful glory.

Mikey pushes his shorts and boxers down just enough to pull out his cock. Mikey's lips never leave her's as his hand pumps up and down his length to bring himself to full hardness. Maya brings her hand down and she does it for him. As soon as her hand wraps around his length, Mikey whimpers into her mouth and Maya thinks her head exploded.

He sounds so pretty.

Sure she had heard him whimper before— many times actually— but right now he sounded so pretty. Maya feels a surge of warmth floods her body, igniting a firestorm of desire that consumes her from within. His vulnerability, his raw need, it's all laid bare in that single sound, and Maya finds herself utterly captivated by the beauty of it. Oh god, she wanted to hear it again. So when Maya tightens her hand around his cock, Mikey makes the same pretty sound. Her hand moves her and down his length, thumb brushing over the sensitive tip. She can feel Mikey's thighs twitch and the hand that is resting next to her head to keep himself over her grip the pillow tight. They're not even kissing anymore. Mikey is just panting against her lips, inhaling and exhaling her air.

She has never done anything like this for him before. It was usually just him pleasuring her. She's never done this before but it's clear she's doing the right thing with all the pretty noises Mikey is letting out and all the precum dribbling out of his tip. Each of his sighs, each halting, excited breath, sent pleasant shivers through her body, pooling in her center. Oh her cunt was throbbing just by listening to the noises Mikey makes. Her eyes open as Mikey finally pulls away from her mouth, pressing his face into her neck instead, letting out small broken moans and breathy whimpers she just couldn't get enough of. "Maya~" he chokes out, voice all shaky

Just from the sound of him whimpering out her name had her head spinning. Oh, he just sounded so pretty. Mikey's thighs twitched and she could tell he was about to come. She speeds up the pace of her hand on his cock but he suddenly stops her, grabbing her wrist. "F-Fuck wait" he mumbles, pulling her hand off him "Wanna come inside you"

Her shorts are loose and thin and easy to push aside. Mikey does the same with her panties and hastily flicks at her clit making Maya choke out a whine. She was soaking without him even having to do much— just by listening to him her cunt is soaking. Mikey presses his tip to her hole and just when she thinks he's about to push in, he doesn't. Instead, he looks at her, eyes heavy with lust and desire but also a different kind of emotion. "Hey. I don't want you spacing out after we're done" He murmurs, tone stern "I want you awake"

She did that a lot—space out after sex. But she couldn't really help it. It just happened. Maya knows thinking of the psychological aspect of her issue will only bring her more unhappiness and pain so she doesn't. "Okay... Okay I w-will— ahh~" she choked out, a moaning slipping from her lips when Mikey used his cock to slap against her clit

He pushes in, inch by inch, sighing with his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Maya trembles at the feeling of Mikey sliding in with no prep at all. The stretch burns so good but it barely hurts which is always surprising considering how fucking huge he is. Mikey hooks her knees up over his hips and doesn't even wait for her to adjust to his length as he starts thrusting right away. Maya whimpers out his name shakily, eyes rolling back and legs wrapping around his waist. Mikey makes her feel good. Every fucking time he makes her feel fucking amazing because he knows her body and what feels good to her. "fuck fuck s'good baby" Mikey groans, rutting into her hard

The breath is knocked out of her legs and her head is up in the clouds. It feels so good. The slight sting of pain and the pleasure of him hitting each sensitive little spot inside her cunt each time. "Mikey, Mikey, Mikey—" she moans out his name like a desperate prayer

Both of them feel like they're falling apart. Everything feels so damn good. "f-fuck 'm gon' come" Mikey whimpers and Maya mumbles the same

He starts thrusting faster and Maya's hand comes down to rub shaky figure 8s on her clit. It feels so good she doesn't know what to do with herself. Mikey and Maya come with little cries and whimpers, trembling and twitching from the earth-shattering orgasms. Her head is spinning and fogging up as she barely even feels Mikey pull out or fix her panties and shorts back over her cunt. She didn't realize it until Mikey suddenly grabbed her face harshly, fingers digging into her cheeks, forcing her to look at him. Maya barely can look at him as she feels an odd fog wash over her mind after she recovers from her climax. His eyes bore into hers, intense and searching as if trying to anchor her to the present moment. "Hey," he says, his voice soft yet urgent, "stay with me, okay? Don't drift off."

Maya blinks, trying to shake off the disorienting fog that clouds her thoughts. She feels a sense of detachment creeping in, like she's floating away from herself, from the world around her. It's a familiar sensation, one she's experienced countless times before—after sex with either him or Izana. "Stay with me," Mikey's voice is urgent, his eyes searching hers with a mixture of sternness and desperation. "Don't go away, Maya. Stay here with me."

It's hard though. Maya feels like she's floating but Mikey doesn't seem like he'll let up. He had told her he wanted her awake before they even started. She should try for him, shouldn't she? Her hands come up, weakly holding his wrists. "that's it. that's it" Mikey encourages "Stay awake"

So Maya tries to focus on something. Something that will keep her awake like Mikey wants. Focusing on the dull ache in her thighs wasn't enough so she thought about Izana instead and how he was coming back later that evening. Somehow, that works. Not as well, but she's still somewhat conscious. "good girl. good girl. You're doing well. Just stay awake"

As she focuses on his voice, his touch, Maya finds a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness, a flicker of strength that fuels her determination to stay awake, to stay with Mikey, if only for a little while longer.

Mikey often thinks about his past. From losing his mother— to permanently scarring Haruchiyo— to losing Shinichiro and then Baji— to losing Emma and then the rest of his friends. Mikey thinks he's been through a lot. It wasn't really fair. Perhaps tragedy was just in his blood. Genetic probably? His cheating father met his end in a car crash and his mother died of terminal illness still loving her unfaithful husband. Maybe this was genetic or a generational curse.

All Sano's face a terrible end and an even more miserable life.

Had it not been for Izana, Mikey probably would have died. Mikey wonders if Izana is exempt from this curse as he did not take the Sano name nor was he Sano by blood. Izana was simply his brother because Mikey, Shinichiro and Emma said so. But did that exempt Izana from the curse? Mikey hopes it does. His big brother, his only family, didn't deserve to live miserably like he does— like they all did. But maybe that's what Maya was here for. She was like a dark in the light, someone who made the gross things in his head shut up for once. Oh did he adore her. "do you want to go out?" Mikey asks as they're watching tv

It's late in the afternoon. They've had their lunch and were just lounging around and Izana should be arriving around sunset. "hm?"

Maya is looking at him surprised. "outside?" She says the word as if she had never heard it before

Mikey nods and smiles. "uh huh. Outside. I remember you telling me you've never been on a motorcycle before. I wanna take you on mine"

Of course, she probably doesn't remember saying that but it doesn't matter. Maya's eyes widen with anticipation, her lips curving into a hesitant smile. "I... I'd like that," she murmurs, her voice tinged with uncertainty

Mikey grins and stands up, pulling her off the sofa with ease. He isn't concerned about her trying to run. After all, the double doors in the master bedroom has been unlocked for days now. "Alright, let's get dressed then"

Maya seemed to be a lot more excited about getting ready than actually go out and in Mikey's opinion, it was quite cute. It wasn't like he'd be taking her near non-Toman members. He couldn't have that. She wouldn't be safe. But it was cute seeing her pick out an outfit from her untouched clothes. She wears black jeans and a white crop top with this corset style lacing at the front and a black cropped cardigan. It was pretty new to Mikey considering he's only ever seen her in pyjamas or wearing his or Izana's clothes. She looks cute. Mikey himself gets ready too, watching her out of the corner of his eye as he puts on his leather jacket and gloves. He can't shake the feeling of protectiveness that washes over him, a primal instinct to shield her from harm, to keep her safe from the dangers that lurk beyond their doorstep.

In that moment, Mikey grapples with conflicting emotions. He isn't sure why he's thinking of this now but watching her clip her gold necklaces into place made him remember his conversation a few days with Izana where he had told him that Maya was just a kid and Izana replied that she was in fact not a kid but a 22 year old with a university degree. Mikey will admit that Izana was right with the implication that he was infantilizing her.

Mikey may have been infantilizing her but at least he wasn't dehumanizing her like Izana.

At least he still treated her like another human being with feelings rather than a pet like Izana.

When Izana wasn't torturing her mentally, physically, spiritually— and any other way a person could possibly be tortured— he treated her like a wounded and sad animal from a shelter.

When Mikey wasn't emotionally manipulating her, he treated her like an abused baby he adopted from an orphanage.

He isn't sure which one is worse and which one is better.

"Okay, when I'm going too fast, tap me twice" Mikey instructs as he fixes the buckle of the helmet underneath Maya's chin as she stands before him on the driveway

The visor is flipped up letting him see her pretty blue eyes. Maya nods in understanding, her gaze meeting Mikey's with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. "Got it," she confirms, her voice muffled slightly by the helmet.

Mikey smiles, his fingers lingering for a moment longer than necessary as he adjusts the helmet strap. Despite the protective gear concealing her features, he can still see the glimmer of anticipation in her eyes, the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She's beautiful, he realizes, in a way that transcends mere physical appearance. With a final pat on her shoulder, Mikey steps back, admiring the sight before him. Maya stands before him, her eyes alight with excitement. It's moments like these that remind Mikey why he's drawn to her—her resilience, her courage, her unwavering spirit that reminds him too much of— oh. No. Mikey shouldn't think of him right now. "Ready?" he asks, a hint of excitement in his voice as he gestures towards his motorcycle, the engine humming softly in anticipation.

Maya nods eagerly, a sense of adventure flickering in her eyes. "Absolutely," she replies, her voice brimming with anticipation.

With a grin, Mikey swings a leg over the motorcycle, settling into the driver's seat with practiced ease. Maya follows suit, straddling the seat behind him, her arms wrapped snugly around his waist. As he starts the engine, the roar of the motorcycle fills the air, drowning out the sounds of the world around them. With a flick of his wrist, Mikey guides the motorcycle onto the open road, the wind whipping past them as they speed towards the horizon. For a moment, time stands still, and all that exists is the two of them, bound together by the promise of adventure and the thrill of the open, empty road.

As they ride along, the world seems to blur around them, the scenery passing by in a kaleidoscope of colours and shapes. Maya holds on tight, her heart racing with a heady mix of excitement and exhilaration. The wind rushes past them, tousling her hair and filling her senses with the scent of freedom. For Mikey, there's a sense of liberation that comes with the open road, a feeling of escape from the weight of his past and the burdens of his responsibilities. With Maya's arms wrapped around him, he feels a sense of connection and belonging that he hasn't felt in a long time.

They ride for miles, the landscape unfolding before them in an ever-changing tapestry of fields, forests, and winding roads. With each twist and turn, Maya's grip tightens, her trust in Mikey evident in the way she clings to him.

There's not a house in sight. Nothing near the beach house for miles. Maybe that's why Izana brought her here in the first place. So she would be completely helpless and nowhere to run to even if she somehow did manage to escape the beach house. No, he shouldn't think of that right now. He should think happy thoughts and hope Maya's fingers don't brush against the pistol concealed under his leather jacket. It was just in case after all.

Despite the remote surroundings, Mikey focuses on the present moment, determined to make this ride a memorable one for Maya. He steers the motorcycle with practiced ease, navigating the winding roads with confidence as they continue on their journey.

As they ride, Mikey steals glances at Maya through the rear view mirror. He can't see her face due to the helmet but he knows she's smiling. He can feel the vibrations from her chest against his back with each giggle she lets out. With each passing mile, the tension in his shoulders begins to ease, replaced by a growing sense of contentment. He knows that he should be vigilant, that danger could lurk around any corner, but for now, he allows himself to simply enjoy the freedom of the open road. As they round a bend in the road, the sun begins to dip lower in the sky, casting a warm golden glow over the landscape. The beauty of the moment is not lost on Mikey, and he finds himself smiling despite the weight of his worries.

For now, all that matters is the road ahead and the woman beside him, her trust in him evident in the way she clings to him.

They make it back to the beach house. The sun is about to set and Mikey drags her to the beach behind the house to watch it. As they step onto the soft sand, the vibrant hues of the setting sun paint the sky in shades of pink, orange, and gold. The rhythmic sound of the waves crashing against the shore fills the air, creating a serene backdrop for the breathtaking spectacle unfolding before them. Mikey leads Maya to a secluded spot on the beach, away from the prying eyes of the outside world. They settle down on the sand, side by side, their shoulders brushing as they watch the sun sink lower on the horizon. For a while, they sit in silence, lost in the beauty of the moment. The weight of their worries fades away, replaced by a sense of peace and tranquillity. In this moment, it's just the two of them, sharing a rare moment of intimacy amidst the chaos of their lives. Mikey turns to Maya, his gaze soft and affectionate. "Thank you for coming with me," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.

Maya smiles softly, her eyes reflecting the light of the sunset. "Thank you for bringing me," she replies, her voice filled with warmth and gratitude.

Maybe this was love, Maya thinks. It had to be. What she felt for Mikey(and maybe even Izana) was love. Mikey's presence beside her is both comforting and exhilarating. His warmth seeps into her, thawing the icy tendrils of doubt and uncertainty that have gripped her heart for so long. However, that doesn't last. "I..." Mikey says something then pauses for a moment "I'm sorry..."

Mikey's sudden apology catches Maya off guard, and she turns to him, her brow furrowing in concern. "What for?" she asks softly, her voice laced with confusion.

Mikey shifts beside her, his gaze fixed on the sand as if searching for the right words. "For everything," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. "For lying to you, for drugging you, almost making you overdose, for forcing myself on you weeks ago, for..." He trails off, his words fading into the gentle sound of the waves.

Immediately, it was like those rose-coloured glasses Maya had been wearing all this time had been ripped off her face. A sick realization overcomes her as she remembers where she was and why and how. The weight of Mikey's words hangs heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the serene scene before them. Maya's heart clenches as she listens to his confession, each word landing like a blow to her chest. She feels as though the ground has shifted beneath her feet, leaving her adrift in a sea of uncertainty and doubt. For weeks, Maya had been living in a haze of false comfort, clinging to the illusion of love and safety that Mikey had provided. But now, faced with the harsh truth of his actions, she can no longer ignore the reality of her situation. The memories come flooding back— the drugs, the manipulation, the violation— and Maya's stomach churns with nausea. Her mind races, grappling with the enormity of what Mikey has just admitted. How could she have been so blind, so naive, to trust him so completely? The realization hits her like a punch to the gut, leaving her reeling and disoriented.

Mikey's apology is feeble, his excuses flimsy and hollow. He tries to justify his actions with half-hearted explanations, blaming his behaviour on everything from his troubled past to his misguided intentions. But Maya knows better than to believe his lies. She sees through his facade, recognizing the manipulative tactics he's using to deflect responsibility and avoid facing the truth. "Maya, I didn't mean to hurt you," he says, staring at the horizon "I was just trying to protect you, to keep you safe."

Maya feels disgusted so quickly. Not in Mikey but herself. How had she let it get this far? How could she have let him, Izana and Kakucho stop her from running? How could she stop fighting? Had she really believed her own toxic mind when it told her there was no one waiting? Mikey told her Chifuyu was looking. He implied people missed her. Even if she was declared dead by the police shouldn't they welcome her back and help her? There was a reason Chifuyu left Tokyo Manji Gang after all.

Oh Chifuyu.

How could she forget him? Even if he didn't love her back it didn't mean he didn't love her. Her feelings of romance may have been unrequited but her feelings of friendship weren't. Chifuyu missed her and she knew it. Kazutora too. He had to. They both had to. "I just loved you so much. I didn't know what to do and I didn't want you to leave me like everyone else did so I did all of that" Mikey confesses, unaware of what is going on in her head

She gets up, slow and steady as Mikey's eyes are still on the horizon. She wouldn't stay here. Maya wouldn't let this illusion take over her life. She was only 22. Maya won't let her life be wasted by being a plaything for some crazy psycho brothers. Her life was her own and she'll decide when it ends. Slow and steady she starts making slow steps back. She doesn't know where she'll run but she will. Maya will run and she won't come back. They won't catch her this time. "Maya...?" He noticed she wasn't sitting next to him anymore

She starts taking quicker backward steps, her sneakers crunching against the sand. Maya is fast. She knows she's fast. She can outrun him. In theory, that is. But Sano "Mikey" Manjiro was no Olympic speed runner. He was a fucking gang leader. She can outrun him. "Maya" his voice quickly turns more stern as he snaps his head around to see she is already so far from him

Mikey gets up fast. "What do you think you're doing?" There's a look of both anger and betrayal in his eyes

Maya doesn't let her resolve waver. She will get away. "Maya I swear to fucking god, come back here right now" he realizes she's trying to run

Maya's heart pounds in her chest as she continues to back away from Mikey, her mind racing with fear and determination. She can feel his eyes burning into her back, his voice ringing out across the empty beach, but she refuses to falter. Every step she takes is a step closer to freedom, a step away from the suffocating grip of Mikey and Izana's manipulation. She knows she can't stay here any longer, trapped in this toxic cycle of abuse and control. She'll get out of here even if it means dying in the process. "Maya, stop!" Mikey's voice echoes behind her, filled with desperation and anger as she turns her back to him and starts to run

She can hear the sound of his footsteps pounding against the sand, getting closer with each passing second. But Maya doesn't slow down. She pushes herself to run faster, to outrun the demons of her past and the chains that bind her to this place. It's faint but she can hear Mikey start to come after her. "I SWEAR TO GOD MAYA! STOP"

He's yelling and the sound is chilling. Her footing is unsteady on the long stretch of sand, making her a little slower. It reminds her of when she first got to this beach house. When Izana ran after her. But she was under the influence of some shitty drugs back then. Right now, she's completely sober. Maybe Izana was right. She was a bunny or a rabbit after all. A rabbit like her surrounded by wolves either learns to hop fast or grow its own claws. Maybe at one point she did grow claws. But Kakucho probably shaved them down. "I'LL TEAR OUT YOUR FUCKING HEART MAYA!" Mikey yells

She hears a clicking sound far behind her but it's muted by the sound of her own heart pounding loudly in her ears. Her legs ache with exertion, the sand dragging at her feet with each step. She can feel her breath coming in ragged gasps, her lungs burning with the effort of her escape. But still, she pushes on, driven by the primal instinct to survive, to break free from the chains that bind her. Mikey is far behind her. She can hear his footsteps getting faint. She thinks she's done it. She has right?

Her body hits the ground after she hears a loud bang. After Maya hits the ground, she feels the pain. It's not the same way they show in movies. Getting shot didn't make her scream but rather everything felt too hot and her heartbeat was all she could hear now. She's lying face down on the sand, trembling, twitching from the sharp pain. She gasps anguished, and breathes heavily as her chest feels too hot. Her mind reels with shock and disbelief, struggling to comprehend what has just happened. The world around her blurs into a hazy blur, her vision swimming with darkness and light. She can feel the warmth of blood seeping from the wound, staining the sand beneath her in dark, crimson hues. With each ragged breath, Maya's chest burns with intensity, her heartbeat thundering in her ears like a drumbeat of doom. She tries to move, to push herself up from the ground, but her limbs refuse to obey, weighed down by the heaviness of her injury.

Mikey shot her and she was going to die.

Oh, what a fitting end.

Deep down as she was running, Maya knew Mikey would catch her. She knew Izana wouldn't rest till he got her back either. Maybe this death was necessary. Her death was necessary because living wasn't an option anymore. With her death, Mikey and Izana don't get to have her.

Maya had grieved her own death the moment she got to this shitty beach house. So it was okay that she was dying.

Izana and Mikey wouldn't be able to catch her and that was all that mattered.

She won.

"where is he?" Izana asks Kakucho as they stand over the unmoving body on the sand

"Inside with Sanzu" Kakucho answers

The beach is silent minus the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. The sun will completely set soon and it will be dark. Izana is crouched over Maya's quickly growing cold body, staring at her face, making out a slight smile on her cold lips. He scoffs. Around him stand Ran, Rindo, Kisaki and Kakucho. All of them are silent. Izana's gaze shifts down to Maya. Even in death, she was gorgeous. Eyes shut, skin paler than usual, white top soaked red.

Mikey shot her in the heart.

Izana reaches over and brushes her hair off her neck. He notices she's missing one necklace. Mikey's name comes to mind but he doesn't say a word and instead pulls her gold butterfly pendant necklace off her. Maybe he shouldn't have been gone for so long. "bury her and... plant daffodils on top" Izana orders, his tone casual despite the severity of the situation

Kaneko Maya was already declared dead. Getting rid of her body would be a easy task for Tokyo Manji Gang. Kisaki pushes his glasses up his nose and says "They'll die after a while. Daffodils aren't meant for this soil or this environment"

Everything here is for you. It's yours bunny he said to her earlier. His bunny's beach. His girl's beach.

Izana only smiles, flicking a curly strand away from her cold forehead. "That's alright. She wasn't meant for this environment either"

His dead girl's beach.

"Why would a wolf look for love in the worn-down bones of a rabbit if not to eat her after gaining her trust?" —unknown

notes: um haha. this is technically the last chapter. after this is the epilogue which transitions into the canon storyline. I am also really sorry if this went too fast or isn't satisfactory. I tried my absolute best on this chapter. Also for the last quote, can someone plz tell me where it's from so I can credit it properly. I hope you enjoyed the chapter :)

visuals of what I imagined the polaroids to look like(Pinterest links below) in order of mention(WARNING some nsfw pictures below):

polaroid 1, polaroid 2, polaroid 3, polaroid 4, polaroid 5, polaroid 6

also vote on this poll for my next series

likes, asks and reblogs greatly appreciated

special thanks to: @highpri3stess @mysouleaten @yaya4thawin @piroporopo @reiners-milkbiddies @bontensbabygirl @tenjikusstuff4 @fairey555 @haikyuusboringassmanager @firstdivisiongirl @bakuhoethotski @xoxowhateverxoxo @maraya-007 @dolfiins-art @short-cxke @maraya-007 @milky-aeons @asirensrage

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers fandom #tokyo revengers manila future timeline #izana kurokawa #tokyo revengers izana #tokyo rev #tokyo revengers smut #tw. dark content #tw. dark themes #mikey sano #sano mikey manjiro #manjiro sano #mikey smut #izana smut #DEAD GIRL’S BEACH #tokyo revengers angst

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e-vay · 3 months ago

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Evay QA Bulk Post 6

Here's another batch of questions.

Again, these do not include Domino or Phlox questions as I plan on addressing those in a separate post. Sorry for the delay on Phloxino questions, I just need to finish the final chapter of their story first.

Thank you all for reaching out ☺️

PERSONAL/MISC ASKS

toonfan91 asked: What is your favorite retro video game system, what would you say is your favorite retro game to play?

A: My favorite consoles would be the Super Nintendo, Gamecube, and the Gameboy Advance SP. Those are all so nostalgic for me and were integral to my childhood. I had the Sega Genesis as well but I didn't end up playing it nearly as much as the other 3. Top three of my favorite retro games would be Sonic 3 & Knuckles, Ms Pacman and Super Mario World.

Anon asked: omg! i wondered if cheese was just something you were super about in your teen years im so glad that cheese is still the #1 fave 🧀

A: Hahaha! Aww, you remembered that about me! Yes, I'm still a cheese fiend, forever and always!!!

Anon asked: Any writing tips and/or subversions on common tropes? - ✍🏻

A: I've said this before but I recommend really focusing on your character building. I personally believe if you can get the audience to care about your characters, the rest will work out. As far as subverting tropes, I'd just say don't default to what's easy. I remember writing a script in high school and it involved a "it was all a dream" ending and my teacher actually rolled his eyes at me and said "Don't do this to your audience. It's an easy out for you and a disservice to them" and that moment has stuck with me forever. So though I don't have exact advice for you, I'd just say keep your audience in mind. You want them to be happy that they read your story, not rolling their eyes. (You're a member of your audience too, so make sure you're happy with your story as well!)

Anon asked: Will your kid be named aroura?

A: Ever since I was a little girl, I always wanted to name my future daughter Aurora. Who knows if I'll ever have a kid and even if I do, I am not sure what their name will be. Aurora is definitely still one of my favorite names and I'd love to name my child that, but it will depend on what best fits that human :)

Anon asked: have you seen the until dawn remaster?? i know you did a drawing of that long ago!! have you ever drawn the actual characters? and also, how would you match the sonic characters to the until dawn characters? 😳?

A: I have seen the remaster but I haven't played it! It looks like such an improvement from what I've seen, and I honestly loved the original. I drew Ashley and Chris once, but for the life of me I can't find that file! It was so long ago, it probably wouldn't look any good now anyway haha. Hmm, it's a little hard matching Sonic characters to the Until Dawn characters without making them OOC. I guess if I had to pick, and with the caveat that this is a weird AU and characters are not 100% canon-accurate, I'd cast Amy as Sam (kind, gets along with everyone, doesn't like violence but can absolutely kick ass), Tails as Chris (because of his intelligence, his love for tech and his overall positive, good-natured spirit), Rouge as a mix of Jessica and Emily (covers the bases of intelligent, seductive, resourceful). I'm torn about casting Sonic as either Josh or Mike. Josh would of course be an unhinged version of Sonic which could be fun to explore but if you ignore the unhinged part, he still really suits Sonic as he is the core of the friend group and he is torn between fun-loving and masking his real emotions. Mike I feel like is a little more of the 'lead character' role that Sonic tends to fall into and his fear of commitment is pretty spot-on to our blue boy hahaha. Knuckles would be Matt because they're athletic and loyal. I'd probably choose Blaze for Ashley because of how polite and serious she can be, but I acknowledge it's not the best fit.

@bigklingy asked: Does your Lego Amy have a Sonic, like Duck Amy does?

A: I don't own an official Sonic minifig yet. All I have is this cursed knockoff hahaha. One day she'll have a real Sonic for her to love.

MISC SONIC ASKS

Anon asked: What elements could the Sonic cast bend based on their unique traits?

A: Sonic would be air because he is the wind. Tails would be lightning due to his affiliation with technology. Knuckles would be earth, obvious reasons (though fire works too, especially if you take into consideration the flames of disaster haha). Amy would be fire, due to her passion and also if you read her fortune cards guide, she says her favorite of the elements in her deck is 'fire.'

Anon asked: Quick question, have you ever read the Archie comics? If so, what’s your opinion on scrouge?

A: I'm not a fan of either.

chrismantike asked: I’ve been seeing this debate a lot everywhere and I want your expert opinion on it. Since you do know about DBZ I was wondering if you think Sonic can actually beat Goku?

A: I'm always going to go with Sonic on this debate. He's defeated monsters, deities, A KILLER MOON?! He can defeat most enemies in his normal state but when he goes super, enemies don't stand a chance. Meanwhile how many times does Goku need to 'level up' his Super Saiyan form just to fight an enemy? (this is all in jest of course) Hedgehog wins.

Anon asked: do you like team chaotix? If so, who’s your favorite character??

A: Team Chaotix is not my favorite group haha. If I had to choose a favorite amongst them, it'd be Espio. I think he's funny even when he's not trying to be.

whiteghos asked: Can you summarize (if you can) what happened in TEIU by Kbspeeding? I wanted to know what happened before lil’ rory and Shadow got all dirty and beat up and what happened during that chapter. I really wanted to read it so if you can that’ll be great!?

A: I sincerely wish I could, but "The Evil In Us" was so long ago that I don't remember the details well, and KB deleted her account and all of the pages of her fic with it, so I haven't been able to reference it in ages. I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help.

Anon asked: How would you imagine Amy in her teen years? -✍🏻

A: I already picture Amy as we know her as a teenage Amy. Especially her in Sonic Boom, I think that's a teenage/young adult Amy.

MY OCs/AU ASKS

Anon asked: I have this question on my mind for awhile now, how did you make or come up with and Amy’s and Aurora’s clothes designs? They are amazing ☺️☺️

A: Well that's an incredibly kind thing for you to say! I honestly don't feel like I did that great of a job with Amy, I just put her in clothes I'd like to see her in haha. I wish I had put more thought into her outfit but I can always redesign in the future. With Aurora (and any of my OCs, really) I just experiment with things until I figure out what works. I try to first get into the mindset of the character and determine what fashion trend best suits their personality, and then I'll do research on that style and then try to come up with something based on that. Aurora's style is on the spectrum of "Eclectic" and "Fun" and "Funky" fashion trends, so her outfits are based on that. If you're curious, I have a whole Pinterest board dedicated to my AU and there are sections for the different characters' fashion!

Anon asked: Are you going to make more ship/fan children one day, or will you just stick with Tumble, Ruff, & Aurora??

A: Methinks you've forgotten the other 8 fankids I've made! But that's okay 😜 I love creating characters and I have no plans on stopping that any time soon. That could be OCs that aren't related to anyone, OCs that are the parents of characters we know, or fan children. I don't know what I'll be doing next, but there will definitely be more new characters in the future.

charlieangel345 asked: Hey, evay, What do you think Amy and Aurora’s favorite anime? I think Amy’s favorite anime is fruit basket and Aurora favorite anime is sailor moon.

A: I think you're absolutely right! :) I think Amy might also be a fan of Ranma 1/2 as well. I'm not all that current with anime so I can't make many more recommendations that suit them.

supersaiyaman85 asked: How do you think it would go down if CC ever met Cream or Zooey(Tail's crush from Sonic Boom)?

A: I have a script for a comic that involves CC and Cream interacting, I just have to get around to drawing it. As far as Tails' past crushes like Zooey, CC is very jealous so ... she wouldn't handle it well lol

twistedchaos101 asked: Does Aurora know her grandparents? How is the relationship with them?

A: At this time, Sonic does not know Phlox is his dad and Domino is deceased, so to their knowledge Aurora does not have grandparents on her dad's side. Aurora would know her Grandma Lulu and Grandpa Clay, but Amy is sort of estranged from them so they aren't a major part of her life. They're the kind of grandparents that send a ton of gifts on holidays and birthdays but only visit maybe once ever few years. She loves getting to see them though and they absolutely adore her!

abbysulf asked: Has there ever been a moment where Sonic went dark to save Aurora? Like, was she in so much danger that he would risk his mind and body to save her? And not from Shadow lol

A: In my AU's canon, there hasn't been any moments like that. I like to joke about Sonic turning dark any time he's even mildly upset, but I don't mean it seriously. And as Aurora was growing up, he kept Aurora so safe to the point it was almost smothering, so she wouldn't have ever been in any real danger. But if she were to ever have her life threatened, yes he would lose himself in order to protect her, without hesitation.

Anon asked: We all know Sonic and the gang for saving the world in their world and they have alot of fans but what about in your story? Are they famous and their fans are surprised when they heard that Sonic and Amy got together and had a child same with Rouge and Knuckles but they adopted instead?

A: Even in my AU, Team Sonic is famous. Not to the point where they're like celebrities and have paparazzi following them everywhere, but the average citizen knows who the members of Team Sonic are and some people do get kind of starstruck around them. As they all reach older adulthood, Sonic and Amy's lives get a little more calm and domestic so they are less in the spotlight compared to Tails who is the CEO of his own company and Knuckles who is running the Young Heroes program. Maybe the average person might be surprised that some of their heroes ended up getting married and having their own families, but again I don't picture Team Sonic's personal lives in tabloids regularly.

Anon asked: I actually wanna know how well Aurora takes shots (At the doctors)from a baby all the way up to a young adult

A: Aurora sure wouldn't like shots, but she's never necessarily been scared of getting them. If anything, I could see the DOCTOR being more afraid of giving her a shot. Imagine both Sonic and Amy giving the doctor the death glare with the unspoken threat of "You better get this done quick and if you cause any extra unnecessary pain, we will both end you." They've got a good routine down where Sonic distracts baby/toddler Aurora until the shot happens and then both he and Amy quickly smother her in hugs and kisses and praises so she is only upset for a brief moment.

*The next question is a Shadora Ask. Skip if you don’t like Shadora

Anon asked: Why does Sonic spy on Shadow and Aurora when they go on a date or when Aurora visits Shadow's house?

A: Sonic is an overprotective dad and he doesn't like the idea of Aurora dating anybody (even though she's a grownup). It doesn't matter who she was dating, he doesn't think anybody is good enough for his baby girl. He spies to make sure they're not getting into trouble (it's just for the sake of comedy, don't take it too seriously).

*The next question is a Shadora Ask. Skip if you don’t like Shadora

djanims asked: maybe weird question but has aurora ever seen shadow in his super form and if not what was her reaction?

A: She has! I've drawn them together in their super forms before :) She thinks he's an angel

*The next question is a Shadora Ask. Skip if you don’t like Shadora

Anon asked: Has Shadow told Aurora about who Maria was in your continuity?

A: Absolutely. Maria played a very important role in his life, so of course he'd talk about her. The grief will always be there but with time and by becoming more comfortable opening up to Aurora, he finds it easier to reminisce on the good times he had with his sister.

*The next question is a Shadora Ask. Skip if you don’t like Shadora

Anon asked: How did Sonic and Amy react to Aurora and Shadow having 8 children like I just imagine *first born* "Oh my goodness congratulations!" second born still happy. At the 8th their like "Wow... Rory that's um great... Lots of grandkids.." So yes that's how I imagine it going but how about you, this question has really taken over my mind. 🤣❤️❤️

A: Hehehe, 8 grandchildren is definitely a lot. BUT! I headcanon that Mobians are a bit more like animals than humans are, so the idea of 'litters' isn't totally foreign (though maybe not as common in modern day Mobius). In my AU, Shadow and Aurora have three litters (so far, hehehe) so it went 3 kids, 2 kids, 3 kids, so they weren't exactly expecting to end up with 8 children, but they're happy all the same. I think Amy would be over the moon no matter what. Sonic would love all his grandkids and be excited about all of them, but also I'm sure he'd be secretly laughing it up at how chaotic the Shadora Home must be at all times and he's just glad that he and Amy had it super easy raising their only child. Plus I could see among friends and family there's an ongoing joke of "So... Aurora, Shadow.... How many next time?"

SHIPPING ASKS

kkrucy asked: What your opinion on other ships then sonamy?

A: There are plenty of ships that I like and there are plenty that are not for me. I don't like to announce the ships I don't like, there's no good in doing that. Some that I like include (but are not limited to) KnucklesXRouge, Shadamy, Sonadow, SonAmyShad, MetAmy, VectorXEspio, KnucklesXAriem, RougeXTopaz, WhisperXTangle, Dr.RobotnikXAgentStone (from the movies), SilverXBlaze, I even like BlazeXRouge if I'm being honest (You can blame TMOSTH for that!)

scaredforcewielder asked: I know it's a bit early, but would you consider doing Sonic and Amy's first Christmas as a couple?

A: I know I did it off-season, but I already made a several Sonamy comics for Christmas this year. I always want to draw more Sonamy and I would love to draw their first Christmas as a couple, but honestly I don't know that I'll have the time to do that this year. I hope those mistletoe comics helped to tide you over!

dean-alice-rose asked: What is your favorite sonmy moment? And it can be in your comics or official. Also what is your favorite comic that you made?

A: Gosh, it's really difficult to pick a single favorite Sonamy moment! If I had to narrow it down to just a few... One would definitely be episode 52 of Sonic X where Sonic returns to their planet and he and Amy have that heart to heart. I can't tell you how many times I've watched that scene, I found it to be the epitome of romance even as a kid! A small moment that actually meant a huge deal to me was in The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog, where Sonic calls Amy "radiant." It's just one line, but wow, what a magnificent compliment! That's way more powerful than simply calling someone 'pretty' or 'great' in my opinion. I have too many favorites, I could go on forever haha! I don't really have a favorite comic that I made, they all mean a lot to me. "My Gal" is maybe what I'm most known for and that's great because it was so personal and I poured SO MUCH of my heart into it. But I have fond memories of every single comic I've made and each one has helped better my writing and drawing, so they're all special to me no matter how silly or serious they are.

Anon asked: In the future, would there be a chance to see CC and Tails again? I always adored CC and loved her design, plus her relationship with Tails. I was just curious as to if you had any future plans for them?

A: Definitely! I have plenty of ideas for them, I just need to dedicate the time to drawing it out. I'm so happy you enjoy that pair so much!

Anon asked: What are your thoughts on Metamy? (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

A: I ship it! It's not at the top of my list but I still think it's super cute and no matter what, I've always had the headcanon that Metal has feelings for Amy (he's meant to be like Sonic, after all, so if I believe Sonic likes Amy then surely Metal would, too!)

Anon asked: Do you ever compare video game couples to each other? - ✍🏻?

A: Of course, it'd be impossible not to. Personally I relate Sonamy to NathanDrakeXElenaFisher (Uncharted) the most out of all video game couples. Both pairs have an undying love for adventure and enjoy traveling the world. Elena/Amy are definitely more cautious and careful than Nathan/Sonic who're a little more gung-ho, but in the end they make a great team and can keep up with one another.

whiteghos asked: What is Sonamy’s love language? >v< <3

A: I always say that Amy is the physical embodiment of love, and because of that I think ALL the love languages suit her! She expresses her love in every way possible and I'm sure she'd be happy to receive it in any way Sonic is willing to give it 🥰 It makes sense to me that Sonic's would be Quality Time and Acts of Service. Sonic always loves to do his own thing, so whenever he's willing to spend his time with Amy (whether it's grabbing dinner with her or even if it's just sitting in a pile of hay with her), I think that says a LOT. I don't think Acts of Service requires explanation.

*The next question is a Shadora Ask. Skip if you don’t like Shadora

whiteghos asked: What is Shadora’s love language? >v< <3

A: This is hard to narrow down and I feel like love languages fluctuate. For now, I'd say they both share the love language of Physical Touch. Individually, Aurora leans more towards Words of Affirmation and Shadow is Acts of Service.

*The next question is a Shadora Ask. Skip if you don’t like Shadora

Anon asked: Are you gonna make a full comic on Shadow and Aurora first date like you did with Sonic and Amy?

A: I'm not 100% sure if it will become a comic. I definitely have a fic in mind, and maybe I'll do some supplemental drawings to go along with it. Sonic and Amy's first date was 'easier' because Sonic and Amy already have an established history. Shadow and Aurora have to get to know each other before they start dating, so it'd be easier to accomplish in a fic rather than a comic. If you haven't seen it already, I did write a summary of their first date.

–

Thank you all for the questions!

Evay QA Bulk Post 1

Evay QA Bulk Post 2

Evay QA Bulk Post 3

Evay QA Bulk Post 4

Evay QA Bulk Post 5

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grimbanes · 2 years ago

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My Soulmate is Capitalism. (Kaz Brekker x GN!Reader)

Summary: "Of course I believe in soulmates - I have met mine. Capitalism is my mistress and I lay with her every night, I hold her close and she sings me promises of riches beyond any man's dreams." OR after a successful heist, everybody celebrates but kaz chooses to sit with the reader and they have a funny conversation.

WC: 2k

Genre: crack fic. pre-relationship, coming to terms with feelings, the rest of the crows being funny. you/your pov. kaz might be a lil ooc. reader and kaz are besties with a lot of tension.

A/N: i wanted to write something light hearted because my notifs are blown up rn, but this is gonna be a first part or prologue leading to confessions within a day or two. so stay tuned, i hope you enjoy this because there's more to come for this one. i wanted to try something more dialogue heavy for once. i forgot how funny kaz could be but i was reading chapter 2 of SOC again and my god hes so funny.

TW: violence, usual six of crow warnings, kaz laughing.

“So you admit that you’re the thief?”

The young man in chains wanted to laugh, he really did. It wasn’t in his nature to laugh at idiocy - if he made a habit of it, he’d be laughing permanently and that seemed rather tiring.

“I’m a vigilante, of sorts,” He replied smoothly, adjusting the shackles on his hands from where he let them rest between his legs, being sure not to touch his bad leg even when both were chained to the rickety, barely held together chair he was perched upon.

“You gonna give it to the poor?”

“I am the poor,” Kaz said. He had to egg him on. His entire plan was resting on the fact that the Stadwatch were full of the most kruge hungry, lazy, arrogant fools to ever be shoved from the womb of Ketterdam’s damp streets.

It earned him a fist to the face, cracking down against his scarred cheekbone and he felt dizzy - recoiling from the rising tides that filled his tight lungs, daring to attempt to drag him under the murky, corpse riddled depths. It was only a moment of touch, but a moment enough that it numbed the pain that should be blossoming through the nerves in his face.

“Filthy street rat,” The guard scoffed at him, shaking his hand to evidently ease the pain from hitting him. Soft bastards.

“Street rat, urchin, pickpocket, they’re all the same. You can think of something better now, can’t you? Let me give you a hand: I prefer the term businessman, opportunist or even idealist, on a good day, ” The young man in chains taunted, leaning back into his seat and making himself comfortable, only the weight of rusting metal clamped around his bare skin giving him any discomfort.

He needed the officer closer. Just that little bit closer.

He didn’t miss the slight hobble in the guard’s right foot, or the consistent shaking in both of his hands. Perhaps he had skipped a meal or was otherwise unwell, either way, it posed an opportunity for him that had the young man scheming. Like any skilled thief, he could take himself out of his chains in mere seconds with the gentle caress of cool metal, a flick of the wrist and a soft praise, the lock would bend to his will and snap open, but not yet. With guard in his space, he could set the rest of the plan into motion and trust in his schemes to carry the others to do their part too.

The Stadwatch officer reached to fist his hair and Kaz braced himself, tongue in cheek and eyes locked on the hand reeling back and preparing to be delivered swiftly into his nose. A single second window was all he had. So he counted. He waited three seconds, inhale, exhale, inhale, and with a loud clink, his wrists were free. Kaz lowered himself down, arms shooting out to wrap around the officer’s hips and he hoisted himself up to his full height, the chains on his feet clattering away and he was dropping the officer onto his back with a heavy thud, dust filling the air in the dark room.

He didn’t hesitate to grab his cane from where it was left propped against the wall and raised it with a confident grip, the weighted head connecting with a sickening crack to the side of the man’s head. Exhale.

“Can’t have this tarnishing my perfect record,” Kaz mumbled, taking an uneven step back and leaning heavily onto his cane, stoney eyes scanning the surrounding room. It was dark out, possibly. Around four hours he’d been sitting with his eyes closed, counting every second and minute that passed, as he’d been stripped of his hat, coat, gloves and cane. He pushed his bare hand through his hair, away from his face. Right about now they should be-

The door threw open, and expecting Jesper, Kaz opened his mouth the mutter a threat about almost being late but instead, he was met with the one person who managed to make him hold his tongue. The one person who had him on his toes, who encouraged his behaviour, the only other person who knew what it was like to be raised by Ketterdam. You. With your mischievous smile, dirt smudged against your cheek and eyes sparkling at him with so much mirth that it had him wanting to return the pure joy you always seemed to radiate. You were always at your best when your pockets were full of trinkets that didn’t belong to you.

“Where’s Jesper?” Kaz inquired instead, stepping past you and out of the door and he didn’t even want to think on why the soft scent of morning dew flowers even managed to stay clung to you in dangerous jobs like this. He hobbled down the narrow corridor, leaning majority of his weight into his cane as his leg began to ache, the cold chill of the room set deep into the broken bone - he’d definitely been sat still for too long, it was nearly unbearable.

“Covering Wylan’s escape,” Your voice chimed from behind him, quiet steps masked in time with his own uneven gait. He eyed you from the corner of his alert eyes and he thought you were possibly the most addicting thing he had ever laid his eyes upon, even in dim light, in the face of danger, the possibility of death still thick in the suffocatingly stagnant air.

Kaz couldn’t find it within himself to be mad that Jesper had gone against his explicit orders to stick to the plan, no detours, no changes. That only meant that you had done your best to adapt to the change, to do your part and still come for him, and you had done it well - he figured he owed you a drink. Or a necklace. Or a bullet between your enemy’s eyes. Whatever he could do, he would do it for you, just to show he valued your set of skills in his arsenal. The entire plan rested on Jesper breaking Kaz out of interrogation before the Stadwatch completed the paperwork and locked him in a cell for Ghezen knew how long.

┕━━━━━━━♔━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┙

You collapsed into your seat with a sigh, head tipped back and the sound of the bottle of whiskey was already being passed around, glasses clinking and the unshakable adrenaline remained buzzing under everybody’s skin. Another successful heist meant another fifteen thousand kruge in your coffers. You heard the seat beside you be dragged out and the smell of dark coffee flooding your senses, warming your sinuses. Your eyes flickered open in the warm lighting, falling upon the familiar figure that seemed to always be in your shadow as of late.

Kaz slid a cup and saucer your way, bitter dark coffee swirling in the fine china and you felt yourself ease a little more. He had a way about him that always left you feeling a little recharged - maybe it was the fact he always brought you a cup of coffee when he made himself one, always waking you up and giving you the illusion that it was him doing it. Clever, really, the sly bastard. You held onto the little plate with a smile, fingers hooking into the handle as Kaz sat himself beside you, cane rested against the table and his usual coat and hat abandoned somewhere in the club.

“Boss will have our heads for being in the club after hours, you know,” You teased.

“I am the boss,” Kaz muttered in retort, his usual eyebrow quirk present as he stared.

“Oh yes, of course, my apologies, Master Brekker,” You pressed, giving him a little nudge with your elbow and not missing the slight quirk of his own lips, barely present other than the way only one side of his mouth raised.

The young man rolled his blued hyacinth eyes in his usual manner, his entire being just screaming familiarity and you felt comfortable. At ease. Brekker could handle himself in a gunfight, a fist fight and any game of wit. His tongue was sharper than most knives, his words the coldest bullet to explode your brains against your own floorboards and that was a comforting thing in the Barrel.

“Do you believe in soulmates?” You found yourself asking, swirling the dark coffee in its cup between your hands, holding it close to your face and studying the young man beside you.

"Of course I believe in soulmates - I have met mine. Capitalism is my mistress and I lay with her every night, I hold her close and she sings me promises of riches beyond any man's dreams,” Kaz spoke with utter sincerity, sipping his own coffee and studying down at the manifest in front of him, pen in his other hand.

“Geels was right, you do only talk in metaphors,” You mumbled with clear disappointment, eyes cast upon your friends across the room as they drank their alcohol and made merry, celebrating the night’s events.

Beside you, Kaz stopped writing. In fact, he set his pen down altogether and a sigh left through his nose. You didn’t want to turn to look at him, didn’t want to show your disappointment - it was very rare you ever got a real answer from him, one that wasn’t a deflection or some mirror of the reputation he spent so long building. Sometimes, you just wanted a conversation but you knew choosing Kaz for that was foolish to begin with.

“As I said to Geels, that wasn’t a metaphor,” Kaz offered the truce, rather than submitting to his usual silence whenever he had upset someone.

“Is this your way of telling me that you quite literally sleep with money in your bed?” You asked, perplexed and turning your head to fully look at the Barrel Boss’ side profile.

“Yes.” Kaz sipped his coffee, leaned back in his seat and tapped a gloved finger against the surface of the table between you, “Thousands of kruge make my pillow and keep me warm in the night.”

And you laughed. You laughed louder than you ever had, hand slamming against the table and full body tipping forward, coffee set aside as you nearly choked on it. Kaz Brekker had told a joke and it was devastatingly funny, the deadpan delivery more than enough for you to be sent into a room filled with giggles. It had the others across the room staring at you with perplexity, glancing between both you and Kaz and you didn’t miss the way his body shook just that little bit, a hint of a laugh in his body language and smile hidden beneath the cup of coffee he was sipping on.

“You are so lucky that I adore you so much else I would be sticking a bullet through your brain right about now,” You giggled, miming firing a gun at him with your fingers and you snorted again, gripping onto the edge of the table.

“Careful voicing your affections so loud, one might think you’re being sincere,” Kaz’s smile seemed to shine in his eyes, leaning a little closer to your space and it set you off again, your hand slamming against your hand in an effort to stop your little outburst.

***

“They flirt with violence?” Nina dared question, whiskey in hand and staring at the exchange with confusion fused with joy, knowing damn well she could use this against the both of them in future. I mean really, who could adore anyone with a haircut that bad? She shook her head, utterly flummoxed.

“I don’t know what’s more unsettling, seeing Kaz smile or seeing Kaz make someone just as bad as him laugh like that,” Wylan shuddered, yet unable to look away.

“I think it's sweet. It really shows that there is somebody out there for everyone,” Inej smiled, eyes softening as she studied the exchange and holding her hand above her heart.

“Demjin made somebody laugh, I think we should take them both to a medik,” Matthias grumbled, earning himself a shove from Nina.

“Well I think-” Jesper dropped into his seat, leaning into where they had huddled inwards and grinned. “It’s creepy. I mean c'mon, imagine if anything happened between them. He’d go absolutely feral. It's so human.. I don’t like it.”

#crack fic #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x you #six of crows #grishaverse

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midniiights-garden · 1 year ago

Text

To Those Beyond The Sea - Mizu x filipino!Reader

(A/N: THIS IS FOR THE LOVELY ANON @dinadearine!! I wanted my main ff to be more of the reader escaping to Japan bc of the Spanish, but I loved this idea sm so I still wanted to write something for it!! I hope you like it <33)

Possible TWs!!!: Sex, Canon typical violence, possibly ooc?

Mizu was rather pissed off when the captain of her ship told her they would be making a stop over at a nearby country before moving onto Britain. After all, in her eyes it was simply a waste of time. Why would she want to spend time in a place that didn't aid her search for vengence after all? That was the price to pay for choosing a cargo ship instead of one ferrying passengers. So, she begrudgingly acknowledged the statement before turning her gaze back to the sea, her eyes scanning the waves for unknown answers.

Her ship arrives at it's destination the next morning. Mizu is surprised to find herself in a warm, tropical country. It wasn't that far away from her homeland of Japan, and yet the scenery was worlds away. The sun beat down onto her heavily, making her sweat in her disguise. She suddenly regretted not packing lighter clothing. The air here was humid, thick. She could feel it sticking to her skin and frankly she was at a loss as to whether or not it was a good thing or not. And then there was the town. It was a quaint sea side port, but it was full of life. Children ran around the streets, yelling and playing happily with one another. Vendors were selling their wares, there were people singing and laugh... and there was chatter everywhere. Quite different to Japan. A part of her finds this stark difference endearing. Everyone here seemed so... happy. She notes the darker skin tone of the people around her, marveling in it's beauty. The people here were beautiful. And Mizu couldn't decide whether or not it was because of their smiles or their features.

But she was sweating. Really badly.

"Fuck," she mutters, shrugging off her haori. She couldn't risk revealing her identity as a woman, but at the same time she was pretty sure she would die if she didn't get some new clothes. So she disembarked, stepping onto the docks of the town and heading inwards to search for a tailor who could help her.

Suddenly, someone bumps into her. One of the native women. Mizu had to catch herself from staring. The woman before her was considerably shorter her tanned skin shining beautifully in the sunlight. The stranger's hair was dark, so dark it was nearly black and it was tied up gracefully into a bun at the nape of her neck. The woman looks up at Mizu, warm brown eyes staring curiously into her blue ones.

"...pasensya na," the woman says, lowering her head bashfully.

Mizu stares, absolutely puzzled. What the hell was a passensha?

"Uhm... w-what?" Mizu replies, hoping that she didn't sound too awkward or nervous.

Mizu and the woman stare at each other for a while as it dawns on the both of them. They had no way to communicate. The woman bites down on her lower lip, looking worried. She suddenly points at herself and then at Mizu before making her hands bump together. "Ano... I..." she begins, her accent thick. She points back to herself and then bows dramatically. It finally dawns on Mizu... The woman was apologizing.

"I-It's," Mizu begins. "Ok." In an effort to communicate with the stranger she forces her lips into a smile, nodding her head as an acceptance of her apology. Much to Mizu's relief the woman smiles brightly, so brightly Mizu was certain that the sun itself had been reincarnated into this tiny human. The woman then points at herself again before speaking. She tells Mizu her name, a name that she had never heard of and yet was now finding incredibly beautiful. She repeats it, testing the syllables on her tongue before pointing to herself.

"Mizu," she says. The stranger, you, smiles. You test her name on your tounge as well, delighted to make another friend.

Meanwhile Mizu is quite literally sweating to death, having previously been too distracted by the new figure to notice her state. She was now thrown back to reality by the sticky feeling of her clothing against her back. Mizu taps your shoulder, pointing at her clothes.

"Need... new ones," she says to you. You seem to get the message, and you quickly lead her to a vendor. You chat with said vendor quickly, telling the lady running it that Mizu requires new clothing to suit the weather and she quickly whips something up for Mizu.

"Salamat po!" I say gratefully as I hand the clothing to the still sweating Mizu. Mizu takes the clothing gratefully, hurrying back to her ship to change into the lighter clothing. She sighed in relief as the light fabric touched her skin, cooling her off. When she exits her room she's surprised to find you still waiting for her at the dock. How persistent of you.

That meeting was now two weeks ago. The first meeting that would change the both of your lives. Mizu couldn't help but be drawn in by your welcoming, sunny nature. It was so sincere, so sweet that she was sucked in as if she was stuck in a vat of taffy. Within those two weeks you had both learned to communicate through English (which Mizu found additionally helpful considering she would need to know English to get around Britain). Mizu eventually ended up telling you about her past. About how she was really a woman in disguise, how she had murdered her husband and how she was killing all the men who had the audacity to force her into being. And yet despite knowing all these truths you never once stopped smiling at her the same way. Not even when you had begged her to spar with you and lost. When she pinned you down Mizu was afraid it would be a repeat of Mikio, and yet all you did was giggle. You giggled and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

That was when she realized something that both elated and horrified her. She loved you. Mizu had fallen head over heels for you. For your sunny personality, for your smile for everything. She pulls away from you briefly, trying to process the warmth she felt in her chest at the sight of you. When she does come back to you the first thing she does is apologize.

"For what?" You ask her, tilting your head to the side.

"For disappearing so suddenly," Mizu replies.

"Oh? That? I just figured you needed space," you say, giving her a reassuring smile.

"Goddamn it. Will you stop being so damn cute?" Mizu hisses, suddenly clamping down on her own mouth once she realized what she had said. Meanwhile you stand there briefly, shocked at what she just said.

"Cute?" You ask. "You think.. I'm cute?"

"Yes," Mizu groans, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Listen, I... I love-"

You cut her off. "I love you too."

Mizu's heart stutters, her breath hitching in her throat. You loved her back. Now without reservation she grabbed ahold of you by the collar of your blouse, pulling you forward and kissing you.

Kissing turned to making out and making out turned to grinding and before either of you could process it you were both unclothed, your bodies intertwined intimately.

"You're beautiful," you whisper between moans.

For once Mizu almost cried; not out of anger or despair... But this time out of joy. After the intense night of pleasure you slept in each others arms, taking solace in the warmth of your lover.

Come morning Mizu held you tightly, pressing soft kisses to your forehead. What was once a stop over she had deemed unnecessary became one of the most important events in her life. But she would have to go soon, and they both knew it. You both spend the rest of your time together as a couple, whispered words of comfort and love shared between the both of you. And the night before her departure from your warm homeland you got married.

"Mizu," I whisper after our small ceremony. "I hope you know I'm coming with you."

Mizu's eyes widened.

"What? Are you crazy!?! You'll get hurt! I-" She is promptly shut up by your finger on her lips, your dark eyes twinkling with mischief. "Shh, love. I'm coming with. I'm your wife now, as you are mine. And I promise to do whatever it takes to help you in your quest. I promise. Mahal kita," you whisper, kissing her tenderly. Mizu knew better than to argue. Not with your stubborn personality. Which is how she now finds herself in London, her beautiful wife at her side. From now until forever more.

Translations!!:

Pasensya na - Excuse me

Ano - What

Salamat po - Thank you (sir/ma'am - idk how to translate po tbh)

Mahal kita - I love you

(A/N: ANNDDDD DONE!! :D I hope this was up to your standards!! I'm sorry the smut part is so short it's more implied if anything 😭😭I was too scared to make it longer but I swear I'll do a proper smut scene in the future. As usual, if anyone has any suggestion, comments or requests feel free to ask!! Love y'all <3)

#i love women #mizu blue eye samurai #wlw #mizu x reader #mizu come home the kids miss you #mizu #blue eye samurai #x reader #fem!reader #smut #fluff #filipino #i need more filipino rep in my life #i need her #i love fictional characters #i love the traumatized sword lady

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pagesfromthevoid · 2 years ago

Text

Traicionero | j.p.

Javier Peña x fem!reader

Word Count: 9.9k (Ahaha woops)

Warnings: mentions of canon typical violence. Oral (f receiving). P in V sex. Fingering. Dubious consent (Javi is drunk when he gets to her). Plot with smut basically. Poorly translated Spanish. Possibly OOC Javier?

Author’s Note: I don’t even know why I wrote this. More importantly I don’t know why I needed any sort of plot to fuck Javier Peña but alas. Here we are. Also, yes. I totally got the opening line from Teen Wolf. Don't fuckin' judge me.

Requests are OPEN

“Do you wanna hear it in Spanish, Peña?” She mocked, standing tall in front of the ambassador’s office door. He was glaring down at her, eyes narrowed. “No.”

“Fucking clever, princesa,” he countered, reaching out to move her. But she blocked his hands.

“Touch me, and I swear to God, Peña —Escobar will be the least of your concerns.”

“Ooh, you’re so scary,” he taunted, grabbing her upper arms to move her once more. With her heel, she slammed her foot into his boot and he cussed angrily and released her. “Jesus Christ. Just let me through.”

“I’m under strict orders to let no one in this office. Especially you.”

As the new assistant to the Ambassador of the US in Columbia, she wasn’t about to risk her job because of some pretty boy agent who thought he was the shit. Crosby had made himself very clear when she was hired: don’t let Peña boss her around; don’t let Murphy guilt trip her. She was the fourth assistant in three years, with the other three having quit due to pressure or been fired for not being able to follow orders.

Crosby blamed Javier Peña for the first two quitting; certain the agent didn’t call or hurt their feelings enough to make the women refuse to work with him. The third one was fired for leaking information to the press.

She would be different. She already was. Agent Peña wasn’t going to get her in bed, for one. He’d tried during her first week. Flirted up a goddamn storm. Complimented everything about her from her hair to her nails to her shoes. It was a fine daydream at first —he was pretty and polite as far as she could tell —until Crosby called her into his office and warned her.

So she stopped with that dangerous daydream, choosing to ignore Peña. Just because he was attractive didn’t give him the right to fuck around with everything that had a pulse. Besides, the whole better-than-you thing he had going on annoyed her after the second week. And the way he kept looking at her —like she was a piece of meat needing to be inspected —made her never want to wear a skirt again.

Which she hadn’t, by the way. She had taken to wearing slacks and flowy blouses that didn’t expose more skin than necessary. Was it inconvenient in the Colombian heat? Absolutely. But did it keep Agent Peña from staring at her? Not really at first, but he didn’t do it as much now. And that’s what she cared about.

“I will happily schedule you an appointment,” she offered, though she didn’t step away from the office door.

“Yeah, next fucking year.”

“Actually, I think he has an opening tomorrow at 10.”

“Yeah, I needed him 10 minutes ago, sweetheart. Not gonna fly.”

She just shrugged, hands on her hips as they stared each other down. However, maybe Peña realized he had been beaten. Or maybe he just didn’t care enough to fight with her anymore. Because finally, he threw his hands in the air and stormed off, bitching about wasting his time.

Fifteen minutes later, however, Steve Murphy tried his hand.

“I really recommend you walk away from me, Agent Murphy.”

“Yes ma’am.”

———

Four months into the job, and the war against Pablo Escobar, Ambassador Crosby ordered her to take up a desk at the base. She didn’t argue, given his reasoning was solid (“I need someone there to filter through the bullshit. They come to you, you call me.”). However, her new position meant a significant lifestyle change that was a bit more abrupt than she expected.

Turns out, living on a Colombian military base was awful. And even more so, if you were American. And a woman. And as if those two things didn’t make her question quitting her job almost daily (not that she would, but goddamn, she wanted to lately with the amount of bloodied soldiers and cops that came in) —it meant spending an annoying amount of time with Murphy and Peña, who had been sidelined.

Her desk was ten feet away from where the two DEA agents set up their space. Murphy offered to push her closer, joking that they could be the three musketeers, but she just returned to the paperwork she had already filled out, ignoring him.

“One of these days, you’re gonna be thankful it’s us here and not anyone else, hermosa,” Peña stated one evening, lighting the cigarette that hung loosely from his lips.

“I’ll be thankful when you actually manage to catch Escobar instead of fucking up raids,” she countered, not looking up from the notes she was rewriting for Martinez.

Murphy laughed at that, and she glanced up as his chair creaked when he leaned back in it. “She’s got a point there, Javi.”

“Shut the fuck up. Whose side are you on?”

“The side that’s usually right,” Murphy continued, looking at her with a grin.

She almost made a comment regarding listening to his wife if that was the case, but she stopped herself. It had been a bad day when he stormed out of the base the afternoon that Connie left; she wasn’t that cruel.

“Flattery gets you nowhere with me.” She hummed a bit, setting her pen down and rubbing her eyes with the heel of her palm. The words were jumbling together, and translating from English to Spanish was difficult for someone who was not fluent in the language. And low on caffeine.

“Oh, we know,” Peña replied, sitting on his desk. “If it did, we’d have so much more intel —,”

“Agent Peña,” she interrupted, looking up at him with tired eyes. For a moment, she swore he looked concerned but she chalked it up to wishful thinking; thinking he could care about anyone but himself was a reckless path to put herself on. “As much as I just love listening to you bitch about me doing my job correctly —I can’t handle it right now. So either get me coffee, or shut the fuck up.”

Neither he nor Murphy said another word, looking between each other for a moment before Murphy motioned for him to move. Peña was about to slide off his desk when the phone rang, and his attention snapped back to his actual task at hand as he answered it. She blinked a few times, shaking her head for a second to wake herself up, before she stood up.

Stretching her arms up over her head, she let out a quiet groan as her joints popped. When was the last time she stood up? It felt like it had been hours.

Peña looked at her curiously, phone still pressed to his ear. He paused for a moment, hand over the bottom of the receiver, and this time, she was sure there was concern evident in his tone. "You okay?"

She paused, surprised by the genuine concern in his tone. Dropping back into her chair, she ran a hand over her face, trying to think of something witty to say. But Peña's unexpected display of empathy caught her off guard. For a moment, she considered brushing it off with a dismissive remark, but the weariness in her body won over her usual defenses.

"You actually wanna know?” She asked, eying him closely as she wondered if he actually cared. But Peña nodded, kicking his feet up on his desk as he leaned back his chair, motioning for her to keep talking. She hesitated a moment before she finally spoke, her voice lacking its usual sharpness. "Long nights, endless paperwork…I’m just tired, that’s all.”

Understanding flickered in Peña's gaze, and he nodded sympathetically. "I get it," he replied, glancing at the phone for a moment before he let out a frustrated huff, though he motioned to the phone as if to say he was reacting to the caller. “Look, those notes are gonna be there when you get back. Martinez won’t be here for an hour or two anyway. Why don't you take a break, grab some fresh air –there’s a café down the street from the base that has the good shit.”

She opened her mouth to argue –to make some snide comment about his knowledge of the area –but stopped herself. Taking a deep breath, she reminded herself not to let her guard down. Peña may have shown a brief moment of concern, but she knew better than to trust his actions completely. She had learned from both experience and word of mouth that he had his own agenda. She wasn't about to let her guard down just because of a momentary lapse in his usual demeanor.

But…maybe she’d be a little nicer, if only because he was also being nice. The skepticism still lingered, but she couldn't help but entertain the idea that perhaps there was a genuine moment of connection between them, however fleeting it might be.

“Do you want anything?”

He looked back at her, his brow raised as he considered her offer. A mischievous smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he snuffed out his cigarette and hung up the phone. "Finally offering to do a coffee run? Took ya long enough," he teased, his usual annoying self resurfacing. “Not today, cariño. Maybe tomorrow.”

Her momentary hope deflated, replaced by annoyance. So much for his newfound niceness.

She rolled her eyes, grabbing her bag and adjusting the strap on her shoulder. "Unlikely," she retorted, brushing past him as she walked out of the base.

When she returned an hour later, coffee in hand and the sun setting over the Colombian horizon, she found that her notes were typed up and translated, sitting in a neat pile on her desk. The aroma of fresh coffee mingled with the fading daylight, creating a sense of calm in the otherwise chaotic office. Her brow furrowed as she looked around the makeshift space they called an office, the empty chairs and silent surroundings indicating that Murphy and Peña were both long gone for the night.

A mix of surprise and intrigue washed over her. She hadn't expected anyone to take the initiative to organize her notes, especially not Peña. It was a small act, but it hinted at a flicker of unexpected consideration. Perhaps there was more to him than met the eye.

With a curious smile tugging at her lips, she sat down at her desk, her fingers tracing the neatly typed pages. As she perused the translations, she couldn't help but appreciate the effort that had gone into it. She took a sip of her coffee, savoring its warmth as she leaned back in her chair, contemplating the possibilities. Tomorrow would only bring more chaos –such was the life they lived in Colombia –but for now, she would appreciate what felt like an olive branch being extended.

Maybe she would be a little nicer to Javier Peña.

———

“Come out with us,” Steve offered about two months later, leaning back in his chair.. “We finally gotta win –we’re all going out to celebrate.”

In the weeks that followed Peña’s random act of kindness, the three Americans found themselves on far friendlier terms than before. Sure, Javier was still narcissist of the year —but he was nicer about it. What she would have deemed snarky commentary before had become a back and forth banter that Murphy swore up and down was flirting. Each time he made that comment, she gave him a dirty look and rolled her eyes, always responding with something along the lines of In his fucking dreams.

To which Peña would always have a comeback, usually following suit of Always in my dreams, cariño or something equally as cheesy. It was always returned with a little smirk on her end, or a wink from him.

Okay so maybe it was flirting.

But it was friendly flirting. Nothing more. That path was reckless, even if she was starting to hate him a little less than before.

“And watch you get shit faced while Peña flirts with anyone with a pulse?” She countered, fanning herself with the folder in her hand. Summer had hit Colombia hard, and she was melting in her blouse and slacks. Even pulling her hair up didn’t stop her from feeling like her body was more liquid than skin. “I’d rather not.”

“Got better plans?”

“Maybe I booked a nice hotel for the night so I could pamper myself,” she mused, resting her chin in her palm as she looked at the blonde agent. “Maybe I have a date. Who knows? It’s not really your business, is it?”

“There’s not any nice hotels around here, so try again,” Steve teased back, moving to sit on her desk now as he looked down at her. “About the date…I mean, you could but do you actually?”

She gave him a pointed look, before glancing around the base. One of the soldiers was walking by with a box of files, and she called out his name –Andrés. He paused, leaning over the rail to give her his full attention, just as Peña stormed into the base. She didn’t pay him too much attention as she smiled up at the soldier, batting her lashes some as she asked him out. Peña, however, stopped and watched the interaction, brow furrowed.

“¿Salgamos esta noche?”

The soldier looked surprised for a moment but nodded rapidly, smiling brightly at her as he offered to get her at 7. “Absolutamente. ¿Siete?”

“Suena bien.”

The soldier nodded again and walked off to finish his work, clearly a little more pep in his step. She leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest as she gave Murphy a smug grin. “You were saying?”

Steve just rolled his eyes in exasperation as Peña abruptly yanked his chair out, carelessly tossing his jacket onto the desk. She observed the interaction between them, her brow raised in curiosity as Peña began rummaging through his drawers, seemingly searching for something.

"What's wrong, Javi?" Steve asked, pushing himself off her desk and approaching his partner, concern etched on his face.

"Nothing," Peña snapped, his tone sharp and dismissive. He retrieved a cigarette from the drawer and swiftly lit it, remaining tight-lipped and refusing to offer any further explanation.

She watched as Steve glanced back at her momentarily, a mixture of frustration and confusion evident on his face. Sensing that they were about to engage in a private conversation, they leaned in closer to each other, their voices dropping to hushed whispers that shielded their conversation from her ears.

Unable to catch their words, she watched Steve’s back with a deep frown. It was moments like this, where the two shielded themselves from her earshot, that reminded her that they weren’t properly friends. They didn’t trust her not to rat them out to Crosby. The secrecy between the two partners only reminded her that she was not part of this little team of theirs.

Peña abruptly stood again, frustration etched on his face, and snatched his jacket once more. Steve, mirroring his partner's actions, swiftly straightened up and retrieved his own coat. He cast a brief glance back at her, his eyes reflecting weariness but also attempting to offer a reassuring smile, before the two of them hastily exited the base. The sound of their hurried footsteps echoed through the room, fading into the distance as they disappeared beyond the door.

Left behind, she remained seated for a moment, her mind swirling with a mixture of confusion, surprise, and concern. She stared intently at the retreating backs of Javier and Steve, their forms gradually vanishing from view. Questions flooded her thoughts, demanding answers to what the hell just happened.

***

She ended up canceling her last minute date, having decided that whatever was going on with Peña and Murphy was probably far more important than proving a point to Murphy that she could get a date.

It had been nearly three hours since the two agents practically ran out of the base, and while she didn’t directly ask Crosby what was going on, she tried to dance around the question. The ambassador just told her that someone was leaking information to Los Pepes, allowing the vigilante group to take down another one of Pablo’s guys without the DEA or Colombian police being involved. Crosby told her to keep an ear and eye out for anything off and well…

Javier Peña was off that afternoon.

However, she didn’t mention that.

She just promised she would and hung up, running her hands through her hair as she considered what to do next. As she tried to focus on her work, she pushed thoughts of Javier Peña from her mind. If she even began to think that Peña was the one leaking intel, then she would panic around him and she knew that was no good. It wouldn’t end well for anyone involved, especially if he wasn’t.

Another half an hour passed before Peña’s phone rang again. For the first few rings, she ignored it. It rang all the time –usually tips and intel, or Messina calling to scold him. Usually, it would stop and go to his voicemail. Tonight, however, it stopped then rang again. After the third time, she huffed in annoyance and stood, picking up the receiver. Before she could say anything, however, a voice that she’d only heard through captured recordings, hissed in her ear: Don Berna.

“I thought we were meeting for coffee, Peña?”

Immediately, she hung up the phone and stepped away, her eyes wide. Silently, she cursed to herself as she hurried back to her desk and grabbed her bag and satellite phone then rushed out the doors of the base. Maybe it was just a cartel guy who wanted to turn a new leaf. There wasn’t a reason to think that Peña was working with Berna or feeding him information. She couldn’t just assume the worst.

Okay, so that wasn’t true.

She always assumed the worst in Javier Peña. She had since the moment she met him, and she had continued even after he proved he wasn’t necessarily the worst. But she couldn’t assume that he was actually helping Los Pepes kill innocent people just to get to Escobar. There was just…there was no way.

“Answer your phone, you jackass,” she hissed into her satellite phone, listening to it ring a few times before being hung up on. She dialed it again, getting into her car with it pressed to her ear. “Javier Peña, I swear to God, I’m going to kill you myself –,”

“What the fuck do you want?” He answered, voice clipped and laced in anger.

“I think we need to meet,” she replied, and she wondered if he could hear the trembling in her voice. “For coffee.”

There was a silence that hung between the lines, static being the only sound that filled the cracks. She was shaking, her heart threatening to break through her ribcage as she waited for him to speak. To own up, or lie, or anything.

“Agent Peña,” she hissed, trying to get him to say something back to her.

“I’ll be at the café in ten minutes.”

“Is that the same one you fucking meet –,”

“Shut your damn mouth,” he snapped at her, hanging up the phone.

She stared at it blankly, taking a moment to calm her nerves before she threw it into the passenger seat and took off into town. Maybe it would have been better to walk, give her time to cool down and find a reason to justify why a cartel boss would be calling her, but she wanted a quick getaway if everything suddenly went south.

Not that she thought Peña would do anything to her –but she couldn’t be sure anymore.

She parked outside the café, sitting in her car for several minutes before she considered even getting out. What she should be doing is going back to the base, calling the ambassador, and telling him what she had learned. How could she be risking her goddamn job because of Javier fucking Peña? In what world did that make any sense, especially given how –

The passenger side of her car swung open abruptly, and a jolt of surprise shot through her body, causing her to let out a startled yelp. Instinctively, she pressed herself further into the door, her back firmly planted against it, as Peña climbed into the car. The sudden proximity between them made her acutely aware of his presence, and a mix of emotions washed over her like a tidal wave.

Her heart pounded in her chest, its rapid beats echoing in her ears, as she struggled to regain her composure. Wide-eyed, she stared at him, momentarily frozen by the intensity of the situation. The surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins made her briefly contemplate the idea of delivering a forceful blow to his face—a physical manifestation of the frustration and exasperation he had caused with his reckless actions.

As her mind raced, grappling with conflicting thoughts and emotions, his voice cut through the silence, jolting her back to reality.

"What did he say?" he demanded, his tone firm and unwavering.

She found herself gaping at him, caught off guard by the absence of denial in his response. The sheer audacity of his nonchalance left her momentarily speechless. A mix of anger and disbelief flickered in her eyes as she struggled to find her voice.

"You're not even going to deny it?" she managed to utter, her words laced with a blend of astonishment and accusation.

Peña met her gaze, his own eyes locking with hers, unflinching. "Why the fuck would I? You already know," he retorted, his voice tinged with frustration. "You're not an idiot."

His words struck a nerve, and she felt a surge of conflicting emotions within her—anger, disappointment, but also a lingering sense of understanding. But that understanding was being overtaken by the sheer anger she felt towards the agent. She watched as he briefly glanced out the back window, seemingly checking for any signs of surveillance, before returning his focus to her, leaning in closer.

"What did he say?" he repeated, this time his voice softer, his tone carrying a hint of vulnerability amidst the tension that hung in the air.

Her initial impulse was to withhold the information, to maintain an element of control and power in this nightmare they were engaged in. But as she looked into his eyes, the walls she had built around herself began to crumble.

“He just…he said he thought you were meeting him for coffee,” she explained, looking up at him with a small frown and her brow furrowed.

Peña's eyes darted away, unable to meet her gaze directly. His usual confident demeanor wavered, revealing a hint of guilt that played across his features. A heavy silence filled the car, punctuated only by the sound of their collective breaths. She waited anxiously for his response, her heart pounding in her chest, hoping against hope that he would vehemently deny the accusation. But as the seconds stretched into an eternity, his admission hung in the air, weighted with a sense of betrayal.

A mix of disbelief and anguish washed over her, the realization hitting her like a brick through a window. Her voice trembled as she spoke again, her words laced with a mix of sorrow and desperation. "Peña...please, tell me it's not actually you that's leaking our intel to Los Pepes."

He sighed heavily, a mixture of regret and resignation etched on his face. "I wish I could say it's not true," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I've made some choices...choices that I thought were necessary, because things weren’t getting done.”

Her world seemed to crumble around her, the foundation of trust they had built eroded in an instant. A whirlwind of emotions raged within her—anger, hurt, and a profound sense of disappointment. She had trusted him, relied on him for months because she didn’t have a damn choice, actually managed to kind of like the bastard and now that trust lay shattered.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Javier?” She demanded, pushing herself upright, scrambling to hit him anywhere she could. She wasn’t necessarily the strongest, and truthfully didn’t really know how to throw a punch, but she was angry. And he deserved to be fucking hit.

And he let her.

He sat there, stoic and unmoving, his face a mask of acceptance. He made no attempt to dodge or defend himself, allowing her fists to rain down upon him. Her poorly trained punches landed on his arms, her fists colliding with his solid form, but he didn’t flinch or retaliate. His passive response only fueled her anger further.

The sound of her strikes echoed in the air, each smack a cathartic release of frustration and disappointment. Her fists became a conduit for her emotions, as if the physical pain she inflicted upon him could somehow alleviate the emotional pain within her. But with each blow, she realized the uselessness of her actions.

As her punches gradually weakened, exhaustion and sadness began to replace her initial rage. The weight of the situation pressed upon her, and she felt the heaviness in her limbs. Her fists gradually dropped to her sides, her trembling hands a reflection of the turbulent storm of emotions raging within her.

She looked at him, searching for any sign of remorse or explanation in his eyes. But his gaze offered no explanation; nothing that he was able to say to make her feel better. He knew what he did, and she knew he didn’t regret it.

Breathing heavily, she fell back into her door, the intensity of the moment hanging between them. The anger that had fueled her actions now subsided, leaving a void filled with a mixture of disappointment and a longing for answers. The silence between them seemed to stretch on, punctuated only by the heavy silence of unspoken words.

“Get out of my car, Javier.”

He swallowed hard, she could hear it, before he pushed her door open. As he turned to get out, he paused, looking back at her. She stared forward, gripping her steering wheel tight enough that her knuckles were white.

“I…,” he took a breath, looking down for a moment before he shook his head and got out. “Can’t believe it took this long for you to call me by my first name.”

She let out a watery laugh, trying to keep herself from crying. He stared at her for several moments, but she refused to meet his gaze, instead opting to start her car and wipe her eyes. For just a little while, she really thought maybe he wasn’t that bad. That Javier Peña was actually a decent person, who she was begrudgingly attracted to. She knew that he and Steve did things a bit against the rules; it was hard not to see it. But this was too far, even by that standard.

She took a deep breath, swallowing down her tears again. “I was so close to not hating you —,”

“If you’re gonna tell Crosby —,”

They spoke over each other, and both stopped as they waited for the other to finish.

“I’m not,” she finally said, before she could stop herself. But she still refused to look at him. “I…I’m not gonna tell him, Peña. Consider it the only favor I’ll ever do for you.”

He let out a wry chuckle, shaking his head as he finally got out of her car. The door slammed against the frame, and she watched from the corner of her eye as he walked around the front to her side of the car. Hesitating, she rolled the window down, finally meeting his gaze as he rested his hand on the roof, leaning down.

“Thank you, hermosa,” he murmured, voice low as he leaned into the car further. “And for what it’s worth —I’ve never hated you.”

Truthfully, she didn’t hate him either. Looking up at him from her seat, she had the sudden urge to pull him into a tight hug; tell him it was okay. That she understood why he did it.

But she’d be lying if she did. Because she didn’t understand; not really.

———

He was drunk.

No, that wasn't accurate.

He was shit-faced.

Javier stumbled through the dimly lit bar, his movements unsteady and his mind clouded by a swirling haze of alcohol. The weight of his actions bore down on him, threatening to suffocate him with a potent mix of guilt and self-loathing. Each step he took was a struggle, as if the weight of his choices had multiplied tenfold.

He had watched her drive away, leaving an empty void in his chest. The taillights of her car faded into the distance, a visual representation of the fracture he had caused in the barely there friendship they had in the first place. She wasn’t supposed to find out; no one was.

Driven by a mix of remorse and self-loathing, he turned on his heel and sought solace in the numbing embrace of a bottle of whiskey. The nearest bar became his sanctuary, a place where he could drown his sorrows and temporarily escape the consequences of his actions. He slumped onto a barstool, his weary eyes scanning the array of bottles lining the shelves.

As the minutes turned into hours, the world around him became distorted. The sounds of laughter and chatter blended into white noise that didn’t make any sense, and the faces of the patrons merged into indistinguishable shapes. His vision blurred, mirroring the fog that clouded his mind.

Javier's drunken stupor was a feeble attempt to escape the weight of his actions, to find temporary solace in a realm of blurred lines and diminished responsibility. But as the alcohol seeped into his veins, it only served to deepen his self-disgust. The numbness it brought was merely a hollow facade, concealing the pain and regret that gnawed at his core.

As the night wore on and the effects of alcohol began to really make him think shitty ideas were good ones. With the memory of her face —disappointed, angry, teary eyed —front and center in his mind, Javier made a decision.

He needed to see her, even if it meant facing the wrath of her anger and disappointment. It didn't matter that it was late in the night or that his thoughts were still muddled from the alcohol. He couldn't let her think he was this bad man, trying to fuck up everything they were working towards.

And he didn’t want her to hate him. Jesus fucking Christ, Javier didn’t want to go back to her snapping at him every time he spoke. Or glaring at him over her paperwork whenever he asked her questions. He liked whatever they had going on —flirting, banter, whatever it was.

Javier wanted it to keep happening.

Javier just wanted her, however she would take him. And by her reaction tonight, in her car, his whiskey-addled brain saw something that he hadn’t seen before.

Driven by a mix of determination and a glimmer of hope, Javier left the confines of the bar and stumbled through the dimly lit streets. Every step was unsteady, but his movements were fueled by a desperate need to find her and see her again.

Minutes felt like hours as he walked down the streets towards the apartments she lived in. The weight of his actions sat heavily on his shoulders, and while he didn’t regret what he was doing —he needed to at least apologize to her.

Finally, he arrived at her doorstep, his heart pounding in his chest. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself before he knocked on the door. As he waited, he rehearsed the words he wanted to say to her, hoping that they sounded at least somewhat coherent.

There was shuffling from behind her door, and Javier glanced at his watch with a frown —realizing it was well past midnight.

“Shit.”

Panicking, and suddenly feeling far more sober than he was when he was making the walk there, he turned on his heel to walk away. His hands ran through his hair as he started cursing himself for being so fucking stupid.

As Javier turned to leave, his heart pounding in his chest, he heard her voice calling out to him, stopping him in his tracks. He slowly turned back, his eyes meeting hers. She clearly had been woken up by him, her hair braided but messy from sleep.

She stood in her doorway, arms crossed over her chest, in her pajamas. Just a thin tank top that revealed the curve of her shoulders and shorts that showcased her slender legs and a look of confusion and frustration on her pretty face.

Unable to tear his gaze away from her, Javier felt his resolve crumble. The urge to be close to her, to reach out and hold her, consumed him. He took a hesitant step towards her, his heart pounding in his chest. His voice was a mere whisper as he spoke, filled with a mixture of longing and guilt.

She stepped back, frowning. “Are you drunk?”

He stopped short, recognizing her concern. But he nodded slowly, swallowing hard as he did so. “Just, uh. Just a bit, yeah.”

“Go home, Javier.”

“I can’t, cariño,” he admitted, running his hands over his face then up through his hair. “I…I can’t.”

“You can’t or you won’t?”

He considered his options –both, neither. He wasn’t sure why he couldn’t leave (though he definitely couldn’t), but he knew why he wouldn’t.

They stood there in the dimly lit hallway, the weight of their complicated relationship hanging in the air. Javier struggled to find the right words, to express the turmoil churning within him. He was not accustomed to vulnerability, especially not with someone like her. They weren’t friends. They didn’t even like each other most days.

That wasn’t exactly true, though. In recent weeks, they had gotten on better than before. Closer, friendlier. He liked having that in his life, even if he didn’t want to admit it.

“You hate me,” he finally managed to say, leaning against her door frame to look down at her. “And that’s fine. I deserve that.”

Her eyes softened momentarily, a flicker of something that he couldn’t pinpoint flashing over her face. She glanced down either end of the hallway, Javier following her movements, before she pushed her door open fully and motioned for him to come inside. There was clear hesitation on his end, standing stiff there for a moment as he considered what she wanted.

“If you can’t leave, Javier, then you need to come inside before I shut the door in your face.”

Decision made for him, he stepped through into the threshold of her apartment, breath stuck in his throat. As she stepped back into her apartment, shutting and locking the door, the atmosphere shifted from the tension-filled hallway to a space that bore the traces of familiarity and comfort.

He couldn’t help but look around her home –something he truthfully thought he’d never see, because let’s face it: she didn’t want him there. Even if they were friends.

The living area was tastefully decorated, and the walls were adorned with framed photographs capturing cherished memories and moments of laughter. In the corner, a small bookshelf stood on the opposite side of the couch, covered in various books and pieces of her that pulled it all together. The couch was the same couch as his –one provided by the embassy to ensure their agents and workers were at least somewhat comfortable. But throw pillows were stacked haphazardly on each end, with a blanket tossed back as if that was where she was asleep.

It must have been, because the bottle of open wine and empty wine glass sat on her coffee table. Javier stared at it blankly, considering the things he’d done to cause her to want to drink her problems away like he had that night.

She pushed him some, towards the couch, before she yanked the blanket into her arms and sat down. Javier hesitated again –where was the confidence he used to radiate when a woman let him into their home? He should feel cocksure and horny; the one unobtainable woman he’d been pining for since she arrived in Colombia was pushing him onto her couch while she barely wore clothing.

But that wasn’t why he was there. And that wasn’t what she was doing. He wasn’t there to seduce her, or fuck her. He was there to beg for her forgiveness; to have her be his fucking friend again.

"I don’t hate you,” she finally sighed, running her hands over her face. “Not anymore, I mean. I did, at least a couple months ago.”

“What changed that?” He asked, sitting on the edge of the couch, looking down at his hands.

“You finished my notes for me. The ones for Martinez, when we first got set up at the base.”

He blinked a few times, trying to pull up the memory of doing that for her. She never asked him for anything; either out of spite or because she didn’t want to rely on him. But then he nodded some, huffing out a weak laugh as he did.

“You looked like you were going to fall asleep at your desk,” he explained, looking up at her finally. “I just…I felt bad; figured I’d give you a break.”

“That’s when I decided I didn’t actually hate you,” she admitted, pulling her knees up to her chest as she looked at him. “I don’t know if I liked you, per se –that took a little longer to accept; that I liked you. That I thought we were friends –but I didn’t dislike you. And I…still don’t hate you.”

Hearing that she thought they were friends made Javier’s heart absolutely ache. He met her gaze, his eyes filled with a mix of confusion and longing. It was in that moment that he realized his feelings ran deeper than he had ever admitted to himself. She looked at him as a friend, and Javier was suddenly realizing he wanted her more than that.

“Probably should.”

“I should,” she agreed, but then she shrugged some, taking a deep breath as she tried to fight back a yawn. “I don’t though. I’m just…I’m disappointed, Javier. Angry, because now I have to lie to the fucking ambassador of the United States. Risk my job. Pretend that I don’t know you’re actually a moron who makes shitty decisions.”

“You don’t have to do any of that,” he told her, shaking his head. “You should be covering your own ass, not mine. I told Murphy the same thing –,”

“Good to know that Steve is also a fucking idiot –,”

“Listen to me,” he cut off, turning to face her properly, suddenly serious as he stared her down. “If anyone asks –if someone even so much as hints at you knowing whose working with Los Pepes –you fucking tell them the truth. Do you understand me?”

He watched her closely, his heart pounding in his chest as she contemplated his words. Her exhaustion was evident, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for adding to her burden. But he needed her to understand, to protect herself and let go of any association with him. He didn't deserve her loyalty, especially after what he had done.

“I’d be smart to walk away," she began, her voice wavering slightly. "It would be the right thing, the safe thing. Kick you out, call the embassy. But..." She paused, the unspoken words hanging in the air. Her voice dropped to a near-whisper as she continued, "I care about you, for some stupid ass reason. So, maybe I won't tell anyone anything. Maybe I'll protect you."

Her response, however, caught him off guard. Her voice, tinged with weariness and vulnerability, carried a sense of tenderness that he didn't expect. He listened intently, his eyes locked on hers, as she admitted her conflicted feelings. Javier's breath hitched as she revealed her concern; how she felt about him. His heart swelled with a mixture of gratitude, disbelief, and a touch of apprehension. How could she still care after all of this? After everything he’d done to her, how he’d treated her, and what he was putting her through now?

He wanted to reach out, to touch her hand, to thank her for her unexpected act of compassion. But a mix of emotions churned inside him, leaving him at a loss for words. Instead, he simply nodded, his throat tight with a gratitude that was choking him.

In that moment, he knew that her decision carried its own risks. He knew that he didn't deserve her protection or her care. But at the same time, he couldn't deny the warmth that spread through his chest, a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness of what he was doing.

As they sat there, something shifted between the two. There was a thread –a thin, barely there thread that tied them together now. And in that fragile thread, Javier found some sort of comfort.

“I’m going to bed, Javier,” she sighed, standing up from the couch with a yawn. “You can stay here, if you want –on the couch.” The last part was added quickly, as if she wanted to make sure he knew she wasn’t offering up her bed to him in any way.

He shook his head though, standing up as well. She looked up at him, and Javier couldn’t help but notice just how close the two of them were suddenly. They stood just inches apart, tired eyes gazing at one another. His gaze flickered from her eyes to her lips, his heart pounding in his chest, but he looked away quickly.

“I appreciate it, but I should go,” Javier replied, his voice slightly hoarse. He tried to ignore the sudden urge of longing that coursed through him; ignore the desire to bridge the distance between them and pull her into his arms. But he couldn't act on those feelings, not now, not after everything.

She nodded, a flicker of disappointment crossing her face. He could tell she was wrestling with her own conflicting emotions, just as he was. They both knew the boundaries they had set, the unspoken rules that controlled their actions. As they stood there, their gazes locked, Javier's resolve wavered. He wanted to kiss her suddenly. He wanted to taste the sweetness of her lips. He wanted to lose himself in her.

He was about to pull away; leave her alone for the night so they could pretend nothing happened when they got to work later. But then he felt her hand gently cup his cheek. Her touch was soft, her eyes filled with a mixture of exhaustion and a longing of her own. In that moment, she was the one that tore down the boundaries she had put up.

Deciding that he couldn’t take it anymore —gravity was too much and he couldn’t escape the pull of her touch against his skin —he closed the distance between them, taking her face in his hands as he pressed his mouth to hers. Months –he’d spent months wanting to kiss her to shut her up. Use the action to get her to be quiet, to stop scolding him. But now, she wasn’t yelling at him or arguing with him. She was pulling him into her touch, biting at his lip, returning the kiss. Her arms snaked around his neck, pulling herself closer as returned the kiss –biting his bottom lip as she responded with equal fervor. It was unexpected, her immediate response, but Javier wasn’t going to push her away now that he had what he wanted.

Tracing his tongue along the seam of her lip, he coaxed her lips open and licked into her mouth. A quiet whimper escaped her, and Javier swore he could feel it in his very bones as he pushed her back towards the couch again. One of his hands dropped to her hip, holding her against him tight, as the other tangled into her hair. She mimicked his motions, her hand finding its way down his chest to the exposed skin under his collar as the other tugged at the hair at the nape of his neck.

As he pushed her into the couch, refusing to break the kiss, she pulled him down on top of her. He rested on his knees, caging her beneath him as her fingers fumbled over the buttons of his shirt. His hands rested above her head, nipping at her bottom lip again while she finally pushed his shirt open and ran her nails down his chest. He hummed into the kiss, rolling his hips into hers involuntarily before finally breaking away to rest his forehead against hers.

They both breathed heavily, staring at each other with lust blown eyes. Her eyes darted from his face down, then back up at him and Javier wondered, momentarily, what she was thinking. Because all he could think about was slipping his hand under her shirt and feeling her skin against his.

“I can’t just be one of your hook ups,” she whispered, grabbing his wrist to stop him from moving further up. “I won’t be, Javier.”

He stared down at her, catching his breath as he slowly nodded. He understood the weight of her words, the depth of her desire for something more meaningful. He pulled his hand back, trailing his fingers over the skin of her stomach gently until his hand wasn’t under her shirt anymore. Instead, he rested it against the fabric of her top, looking down at her.

“You won’t be,” he assured her, his voice filled with a tenderness that surprised even him. “I…I haven’t — this won’t be —I’ve wanted for months….I want you, cariño.”

She searched his eyes, searching for any sign of deception or doubt, but all she found was a sincerity that mirrored her own. Wanting to find comfort in her touch again, Javier leaned in and pressed his lips to her chin –light, barely there. But enough to cause her to suck in a breath as if he had bit her. His hand slipped back under her stop, grasping at the hem of the thin fabric, so he could pull it up carefully. It was easily pulled over her head and tossed to the floor with his shirt –leaving them both bare from the waist up and pressed against one another.

Her hands, somehow impossibly soft, traced down his arms, nails barely grazing his skin. It was a careful gesture, but it was all he needed to continue. Taking to her wandering hands, Javier wrapped them back around his neck before his hands trailed down her sides until they settled at her waist. She sighed at the touch, tugging him closer to her as he gently clasped her waist, drawing her nearer, their bodies pressed together. His fingers pressed into her skin, no doubt leaving marks where his nails dug in. A gasp escaped her, mingling vulnerability with desire, as his tongue slipped into her mouth again.

Enthusiastically, she pulled him even closer, pressing her body against his like he had dreamed of so many times before. At any moment, he expected to awaken in his bed, painfully alone –painfully hard –left with nothing but fantasies of her consuming his mind. But the feeling of her biting his lip, of her hands fumbling with the button of his jeans reminded him that this was real. She was there, under him, touching him back just as desperately as he was touching her.

“Gonna take care of you, hermosa…,” he whispered, trailing kisses from her mouth down her jaw, to her throat. His hands deftly tugged at her shorts, trying to push them down her hips.

Her hips rose to meet his touch, helping him get rid of the last two pieces of her clothing that kept her from him. Once her shorts were tossed to the growing mess of clothes on her floor, his fingers trailed between her thighs, pressing just barely into her. Her head fell back into the arm of the couch as she whispered his name, as if trying to beg for more. He grinned into the skin of her throat before pressing a kiss there.

“Tell me what you want,” he continued, nipping at her collarbone as his other hand reached up to palm at her breast.

“Take off your pants,” she ordered –though she was breathless and arching into his touch.

Javier chuckled almost darkly into her skin, pinching her nipple as he squeezed her chest. Then he pulled back, sitting up above her. His eyes roamed over her figure hungrily, taking the chance to appreciate each curve of her body as he pushed his jeans and boxers off, kicking them to the side. Most of the women he slept with would try to cover themselves up under his gaze –turn red with sheepish grins. But she just rested her hand behind her head, meeting his eyes for a moment before taking in his naked self as well. Just as hungry for him as he was for her –it made his cock twitch.

“Still so bossy, even when I have you naked under me.”

“Someone needs to make sure you follow directions.”

Her laugh was airy and light, and Javier grinned down at her as he took his cock in his hand, stroking himself slowly. The way she practically glowed under him, radiating something he wanted to bask in forever, made him want her even more. His other hand slipped between her legs again, where he ran his fingers over her clit and through her wet folds. Her eyes closed in response, arching into the touch with a hum, and Javier savored how wet she was for him.

Javier adjusted, half kneeling between her legs and pressed wet kisses over her thighs as he spread her open before him. She gasped at the sensation, thighs instinctively closing around his head but Javier tsk’ed, pushing her legs open to continue peppering kisses along the sensitive skin of her thighs until his nose brushed just barely against her clit. Her reaction was to shoot her hands down and tangle her fingers in his hair, pleading with him to hurry up.

He made a satisfied noise, grinning into the skin of her thighs, before finally giving her what she wanted —what they both wanted —and started to lick and kiss at her clit as if it was the last meal he’d ever eat. She gasped, her legs jerking up only for her heels to rest on his back. The sounds she was making —begging, soft and breathless gasps —egged him on, involuntarily causing him to buck his hips into the couch to relieve his own ache.

“Fuck, Javi,” she moaned, arching up as his tongue delved deep into her core.

Her reaction only spurred him on, replacing his tongue inside her with a finger —then two, with ease. His tongue circled her clit as he pumped his fingers in and out, setting a steady pace as she clenched around him. She was tight, deliciously so, and the thought of her clenching around his cock was driving him wild.

“Come for me,” he whispered against her skin, pulling away from her clit just enough to admire her. Watching her chest heave from her ragged breathing, pretty face contorted by pleasure as his fingers continued to disappear in and out of her —she was close, he could feel it as she yanked his hair harder. “Come for me, hermosa.”

His mouth captured her clit one more time, his fingers curling just enough to hit the sensitive spot inside her. She cried out, squeezing his fingers with her pussy while trying to close her legs around him. But he didn’t let her, free hand holding her leg down as he nipped and licked at her clit, speeding up the thrusts of his fingers inside her.

She cried out suddenly, body trembling, as her orgasm washed over her. He slowed down, but didn’t remove his fingers from her, working her through her climax. She pushed him away from her clit, overstimulated and breathing heavily. He didn’t stay away long before he pulled his fingers from her and replaced them with his tongue once more, lapping up the juices that soaked her pussy.

“Javi,” she gasped, hands shaking as she pried him from between her legs.

She pulled him up by his chin, only able because he let her, and kissed him hungrily. This kiss was sloppier, all teeth and tongues, allowing her to taste herself. Javier groaned into her mouth, pulling himself back onto the couch properly, only to yank her by her hips into his lap. Straddling him now, she looked down at him with hazy, lust filled eyes as she grinded against cock.

He hummed, leaning his head back as his hands slid up her waist, gripping the flesh there tight and guiding her movements as he did so. Her hips rolled against him, coating him in the remnants of her climax, and the head of his cock caught against her clit, causing her to hiss in response. Javier grinned, unable to help himself, as his eyes opened to look up at her again. Releasing his grip on her waist, one hand reached up to the back of her head to bring their mouths together again. His other hand groped her chest, pinching and twisting at her nipples as he bit at her bottom lip.

“Javi, please,” she sighed, breaking the kiss just enough to breathe over his lips. She was reaching between their bodies now to grasp his hard cock in her hands. “I need you, Javi, I need –,”

“What do you need, cariño?” He teased, trying to keep his hips from bucking up into her. “Take what you want, baby. C’mon…”

She nodded frantically, rising up onto her knees above him. Javier’s gaze dropped to her hand around him, where she was guiding his cock into her soaked pussy. As she slowly eased him into her, one of her hands shot up to grip his arm, digging her nails into the skin to distract from the stretch. Javier’s head fell back again as she sunk down on him, his hands dropping to her ass just to hold something. Because if he didn’t –shit, he would lose any semblance of control he had.

Her grip on his arm tightened as their hips met again, sinking him entirely inside her as she tried to adjust to his size. Javier groaned as her walls clenched around him, and his hips involuntarily bucked up –causing her to cry out in surprise and lurch forward, her hands gripping the back of the couch. With her tits in his face, and his hands grasping her ass, Javier was done for –fuck control, he needed to ruin her.

Javier trails his fingers down her arms before wrapping them back around her hips, holding her tight against him as he pistons up into her. She hadn’t been expecting it, a surprised cry leaving her lips as he slapped her ass in the process of fucking her. He pulled her up, and she got the hint as she rose to meet his thrusts, bouncing on his cock to bring herself closer and closer to the edge.

“Been thinking about this since the first time you yelled at me.” He punctuated his last word with a hard thrust up that had the tip of his cock grazing a spot so deep inside her it made her drop her face into his neck, crying out his name.

“Fuck, Javi –you feel so good– Please, God– please, please–” Her words died in her throat when he yanked her down particularly hard, pressing her hips down to meet him and holding her there in slow, hard grind. She let out a choked sob of his name, pussy clenching hard around him and stealing a low moan from the back of his throat.

“Knew you fuckin’ liked me, princesa.”

She moaned again, and Javier jolted up some as he felt her tongue trailing over the vein in his neck and over his jaw. Her mouth was on his again, and he could feel her tightening around him as her wetness started to smear between their bodies. The sound of their skin slapping against skin only urged him forward, each thrust becoming messier and harder. It was almost too much when his one hand dipped between their bodies, fingers fluently toying with her clit.

Between the touch on her clit and the thrusts up into her, Javier could tell she was close and he’d be damned if he came before her. Kissing her harder –all tongue, and teeth, and spit –he sped up his thrusts in time with his fingers on her clit. She bit his lip for a moment before she gasped, closing her eyes tight as her body tensed up under him, only to spasm around him as she came. The only sound she made were airy gasps of his name, begging him to keep going. Javier wasn’t far behind as he thrusted up into her a few more times before his hips stuttered to a stop.

She dropped against him, breathing heavily as she slowly came down from her high. Javier’s hand dropped away from her clit, and while his grip on her hip loosened, he didn’t release her from his hold. Her forehead pressed against his neck, tucked just under his chin as she tried to catch her breath. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a breath himself, as he savored the moment of her skin against his, holding her close to his chest.

Eventually, however, she adjusted and pulled away from him –pulling his softened cock from her with a wince. He stayed there, however, looking over at her through half squinted eyes. She didn’t move far –having simply slid onto the couch to lean down and rifle through their clothes on the floor. When she came back up, she leaned back against the armrest of the couch, skin slick with sweat and glowing from their post-sex haze. In her one hand was a cigarette, that she lit with a lazy grin, before holding it out to him.

Javier watched her for a few moments before he took the cigarette and snuffed it out, pulling her back down the couch by her ankles. She yelped in surprise, but it devolved into a laugh as he leaned over her and grabbed her chin, kissing her lazily. Her arms wrapped around his neck, returning the kiss eagerly. When he pulled back, Javier melodramatically collapsed onto her, laying between her legs with his head on her chest. Her hand ran through his sweat-drenched curls.

“This doesn’t mean you get special treatment at work,” she murmured, and Javier could just hear the grin in her voice.

“Give me a few minutes to recover, and I bet I can change your mind,” he challenged, though he closed his eyes as she ran her hand through his hair.

“You can try to change my mind by staying, and taking me out tonight,” she countered, and Javier chuckled into her skin, nodding.

“Oh, I’m not going anywhere.”

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