#like will tap out with the overuse of them without a second thought | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

artemis32 · 5 months

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vagabond

my batfam obsession has finally come in handy (reader is like, late teens, early twenties??)

This was meant to be a drabble, but I went a teeny tiny bit overboard, and by overboard, I mean this is 5.6k words - there will also definitely be a part two <33

Enjoy :)) Or don't. I can't tell you what to do

****

dc masterlist

****

“Okay,

Let’s do this one last time

My name?? You don’t need to know my name. All you need to know is that I was bitten by a radioactive spider, and for the last six years, I’ve been the one, and only, Recluse.

….what? Spiderman?

No, no, none of that nonsense. That’s so overused. Plus, I’m a woman, and Spiderwoman just feels like a bit of a mouthful.

Yeah… Recluse. I was bitten by a recluse spider.

…ironically, I hate spiders.”

****

Hear me out.

You’re a Spider person(??), involved in the Spider verse. You have the usual Spiderman backstory (sort of), and you’ve got the same incredible senses and abilities. I imagine you having a slightly superior spider sense and speed compared to other Spiders – think Cindy Moon. And obviously, the name, Recluse, means you were bitten by a recluse spider (I fucking hate spiders), but that also means that you get all the qualities of a recluse spider. Mainly necrotic venom and the ability to camouflage. You can’t exactly turn invisible, you just have the uncanny ability of blending in like a chameleon. It’s kind of creepy, I won’t lie.

Regardless of your abilities, you were there when Miguel lost his temper and when Miles ran away.

Except you made the mistake of trying to help Miles. Why wouldn’t you? He was just a child, and he only wanted to keep his family safe. Anyone else would’ve done the same in his position. Suffice it to say, that pissed Miguel off. Majorly.

And while Miles managed to get away without a dimension-travelling watch, you weren't as fortunate. You fought tooth and nail with other Spiders, not wanting to hurt them and not wanting to get caught. You barely managed to escape with your life as you tapped a random location into your watch and zapped off to another earth without a second thought or a proper plan. But not before the Spiders giving chase had managed to damage your watch (and you - they’re strong as fuck, of course they managed to do some damage).

Now, as you stand on an empty rooftop, examining your watch in the rain, you're beginning to think you may have fucked up.

Slightly.

The watch still prevents you from glitching, you've confirmed that much. Thank goodness.

But it is broken. You know it is. Because you can't reach anyone else in the Spider verse. And you can't see what universe you're in. You feel like you’ve been thrown in the deep end, and the fact that you can barely stand doesn’t help.

****

Stood in the rain on a rooftop in the middle of nowhere, injured and all but stranded, was not how you had planned on spending your Saturday night.

As you distractedly tinker with the watch in a pathetic attempt to fix it, grumbling to yourself about your ruined weekend place, your spider sense goes haywire, ringing so loudly in your ears that your head spins.

You're so disoriented that you barely manage to dodge the dagger thrown your way.

A dagger that's... shaped like a plane? No, it looked more like a bird?

You step back cautiously as a man emerges from the shadows, jumping down from a ledge just above your head.

He’s dressed strangely, which is one hell of a statement coming from you, someone dressed in a skintight spider suit. But-

“Really? A cape? Isn’t that, like, super impractical?”

The question leaves your mouth before you can think about it, but really – did Edna Mode teach people nothing?

He walks closer without a word. His silence is almost as unsettling as his gaze. It feels as if he’s dissecting you. He keeps a safe distance between the two of you.

Hm, he’s not completely lacking in the common-sense department, at least.

Then, after much deliberation, he speaks.

“That light- you fell from the sky?”

His voice was cautious, every word measured and serious. His eyes scanned you from top to bottom, taking in your appearance without a word.

You sigh and prop a hand on your hip, trying to appear nonchalant, trying desperately not to wince at the flaring pain in your ribs. You were in no position to fight, so you’d either have to run, or talk your way to safety.

If there was one thing you were good at, it was talking.

“Yep. You’re so observant.”

He scowls, his mouth pinching slightly at the corners.

Okay, maybe sassing the man with a dorky superhero cape isn’t a great idea… At least, not while I can barely stand.

So you change tactics.

“I’m sorry, I just- Look, uh, where exactly am I?”

The look on his face tells you that that was not the right question to ask.

Great. A sceptic. That’s exactly what I needed.

So you backtrack, laughing awkwardly as you wave your hands dismissively.

“That was a… a joke- A terribly timed joke. I apologise. Uh, your suit is… nice?”

Now he seems more exasperated than cautious, and he takes a step closer, reaching a hand out towards you.

Your spider sense flares, and you know that something about this man is dangerous. He appears young and relatively harmless, but appearances can be deceiving, you of all people know that.

So, you do the only thing you can think of at that moment. The only command your instincts give you. You jump away.

You jump.

And, naturally, you stick to the wall.

It’s nothing. It’s such a small action, one you’re more than accustomed to. You do it all the time, climbing walls and ceilings, scaling the sides of buildings. Other Spiders do it too. Even the civilians back on your own earth are used to it.

But it’s not nothing.

The man before you seems stunned beyond words, his outstretched hand hanging in midair as his jaw drops. He stares at you as you stand there, exactly perpendicular to him, sticking to the wall and defying all laws of nature as if it’s nothing.

His hand clenches in a fist and he reaches for a bo staff, the metal snapping loudly as he swings it outwards, the leather of his glove creaking as he tightens his grip.

“Who are you? Your name. Now.” he demands, his jaw clenched tightly.

You tilt your head.

Was this guy an idiot? The first rule of secret identities is that they’re, y’know, secret?

“Oh, well, I’m Recluse. Who are you?”

He ignores your question, slowly approaching you again, looking at you curiously. It might have seemed innocent to a third party, but your head was still ringing. You couldn’t let this man get too close to you.

You sigh heavily.

Running it is.

You point your arm outwards, startling the man, who takes a wary step back. Before he can react or reach for you, you shoot a web out and swing away. His bo staff slams against the wall seconds after you leapt from it, the wall denting and crumbling from the force of his swing.

The look on his face was priceless, first fear at the sight of you jumping over the edge of the building, then surprise, then a flash of anger as you mockingly saluted him as you swung away. You’d laugh if your ribs didn’t feel like they were seconds away from shattering.

You swing through the unfamiliar city, the buildings passing by you in a flash. Coming to a stop is painful, your head swimming as you nearly slam into the side of an apartment building.

Thank God for spider-like adhesion.

You sit there for a long moment, taking a second to catch your breath and gather your bearings.

After you've managed to shake the dizziness away, you swing to the street down below.

While you think over your piss poor plan of finding some civilian clothing and learning more about this universe, you try to ignore the aching throb in your ribs. You weren’t too concerned about the injury – one advantage of being Spiderwoman was that you healed at an incredible rate. You’d just have to grin and bear until you healed.

****

Wayne Enterprises.

They specialised in a whole lot, but all that really interested you was their science division. In particular, the tech and biotech sector. The company seemed eerily similar to variations of other mega corporations you’d seen in your time travelling through the multiverse.

Stark Enterprises. Alchemax. Oscorp Industries. Roxxon Energy Corporation.

The list was endless, but you’d decided, after hours spent in a cramped internet café doing informal research on the strange dimension you found yourself in, that investigating Wayne Enterprises was the best place to start if you hoped to ever fix the watch and return home.

Your plan of action was simple. Scratch that, it was terrible - held together with little more than hopes and prayers. But with your abilities, you were confident you could pull it off.

That’s how you found yourself confidently walking through the foyer of Wayne Enterprises, acting as if you were supposed to be there. Swiping an access card off of some poor, unsuspecting office worker was easier than it should have been.

You wandered around the reception area for a while, carefully surveying the room before approaching the elevator with the air of someone who knew where they were going.

There’ll be signs for each division… Right?

Wrong.

Twenty minutes later, you’re still wandering aimlessly through corridors, hoping the right room would magically present itself to you.

So caught up in your own frustrated musings, you nearly miss the department you’d spent almost an hour looking for.

The sign above the door is pathetic - faded and barely visible, peeling and yellowed at the edges, like some old poster left out in the sun to age.

Shoving your irritation to the back of your mind, you quietly open the door, wincing as it creaks. Popping your head through the gap, you peek around the small room, and-

Nothing.

It’s completely empty, the thick layer of dust settled over the countertops seeming to mock your failure of a heist.

A silent huff of annoyance is all you allow yourself, quickly shutting the door and continuing on your way. Determination fuels your every step, intent to find something, anything, so that your breaking-and-entering excursion wouldn’t be for nothing.

****

Success.

You definitely weren’t supposed to be in here. Not that you were supposed to be in the building in general, but this?

‘This’ being what appeared to be the CEO’s personal office, if the floor to ceiling windows and expensive leather furniture was anything to go by.

You’d long since discarded any pretence of searching for the biotech department. Now, you were just snooping around, curious to see what exactly the CEO of Wayne Enterprises had laying around.

Naturally, you’d come across a few pictures of him in your investigation of Wayne Enterprises, and all you’d thought about the moment you’d seen his photo, was that Bruce Wayne was undoubtedly one of the most attractive men you’d ever met.

If you weren’t caught in such a dire situation, you might have taken the time to fawn over him a while longer.

The office is odd. There’s something about it that you can’t quite put your finger on, something uncanny. Maybe it’s that lack of colour or warmth, or the lack of any personal effects.

But that couldn’t be it. You’d seen plenty of rooms similarly decorated, but there was something about this in particular that set your hair on end. Not your spider sense, but your unconscious mind.

It almost felt as if you were being… observed. As if an unseen force was breathing down your neck, pinning you in place.

You distract yourself from your ever growing unease, pulling open drawers and rifling through cabinets.

What an obscene amount of paperwork.

Truly, you don’t expect to find anything exciting or noteworthy. Maybe an office cellarette, maybe a Courtesan cigar.

What you don’t expect is to find the parts you needed to fix your watch.

The parts that were supposed to have been in the biotech department.

Before you have much time to contemplate about why the tech worth billions is shoved behind a bookshelf, the door opens.

You’re on the ceiling before he even enters the room, your breath tight in your chest, the klystron conductor clutched firmly in your fist as you try not to make any sudden movements.

Certain abilities you’d gotten as a result of the spider that bit you came in handy more often than not, namely the capability to survive weeks, if not months without food or water, and the preternatural proficiency you had hunting at night. Most useful had to be your camouflage abilities.

And while you were able to camouflage yourself, it came with its own set of drawbacks and caveats. Specifically in the fact that it was a camouflaging ability, not invisibility.

If you moved too suddenly, even someone unaware would notice you.

It takes you a moment to realise that the man is Bruce Wayne.

He looks different than in the photos - his back is broader, his hair darker, and his eyes…

His eyes-

Your head feels like it’s being split open, a buzzing so persistent filling your ears that you almost slip off the wall, your adhesion faltering for a moment.

There had been one or two stories within the Spider Society, of moments where someone's spider sense had gone so haywire they couldn’t tell up from down. There’d been a time where, supposedly, someone had even passed out from the pounding pressure in their skull.

Initially, you’d thought it was an exaggeration, a newfound hero overplaying a fight gone wrong in an attempt to save face.

Now, as he surveys the room, his azure eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than they should, you understand what they meant.

Panic isn’t enough to describe how you feel at that moment.

You feel too exposed, your nerves raw and laid bare.

It… almost feels as if he knows you’re there.

But that’s not possible. There’s no way.

You allow yourself the slightest sigh of relief, releasing the searing breath in your chest as he turns, moving towards his desk.

His silhouette is broad and domineering as he bows over his laptop, the sound of his tapping at the keys filling the sweltering silence of the room.

With his back turned towards you, you take your chance, slowly, so slowly making your way across the room, still sticking to the ceiling all the while.

You pause for a moment, freezing when you catch a glimpse of what exactly is on his screen.

The camera feed.

There you are.

Entering his office with a wide eyed look on your face.

And-

And that’s you, barely ten minutes ago, rifling through drawers and shelves.

He pauses then, on the frame of you holding the klystron conductor with a satisfied smile and a slight sparkle in your eyes. He sighs heavily, his head dropping forward as he taps two fingers against the tabletop.

You don’t linger to see his reaction, dropping down from the ceiling and slinking out the ajar door.

****

After you’d hightailed it out of the building as soon as you could, you hadn’t dared to look back.

That man… Something about him set your nerves on edge. He wasn’t normal.

Thankfully, you’d managed to get out without much hassle, and now you were wandering somewhat aimlessly through the city, looking for a place to set up shop, so to speak.

Spying a seemingly abandoned building across the street, you decided it would have to do for now.

As you cross the road, aiming for the darkened alleyway across the road, you’re slammed off of your feet.

By a car.

Someone hit you with a goddamn car.

You lay there, in the entryway of the alley, gasping for breath as you press your forehead to the wet concrete beneath you. But no matter how deeply you breathe, you can’t seem to force yourself to your feet.

Spider sense my ass – what the fuck was that?! No warning, nothing!

The edges of your vision turn black, and you pray that you don’t pass out as a pair of polished black leather shoes approach you.

A man crouches down in front of you, his words drowned out by the ringing in your ears.

He reaches out to you, intent on pressing his palm to your shoulder.

You pass out before he can touch you.

****

You might’ve been unconscious for a few hours or or a few weeks. You weren’t sure.

All you knew was that you were in what appeared to be a medical facility, and you were restrained.

On the bright side, you felt a ton better than you had before you passed out. Though a look around proved that it might have been because of whatever concoction of drugs they’d given you to numb the pain.

Well, with your increased metabolism, that comfort probably wouldn’t last too long.

You lay back, content to stay there until a doctor or nurse came in to check on you.

Twenty minutes later, long after the medication had worn off, someone entered the room.

The man, grey-haired and dressed in an immaculately pressed tuxedo, pauses for a moment when he realises that you’re awake before continuing on his course towards you and proceeding to check your vitals.

“How long have you been awake, Miss?”

You don’t respond.

Or rather, you can’t.

Pain grips you like a vice, wrapping its fingers around your abdomen, digging its claws into your skull.

Stupid damned metabolism.

Apparently, your pain and distress are visible enough for the old gentleman to see.

He frowns, leaning closer slightly for a moment before striding towards a row of cabinets, sifting through them before returning with a needle and a small glass vial. He squints slightly as he fills the needle.

A lot of what happens after that is lost to you in your pained daze. You’re awake, aware, but barely.

The older man is gone by the time you manage to pull yourself out of the strange, aching daze.

In his stead is Bruce Wayne.

The heart monitor betrays your panic, the sharp beeping filling the echoing space of the room.

He doesn’t speak or move from his spot beside your bed, instead observing you with a flat look as your heart rate slowly evens out again.

After a long bout of silence, he hold up a hand, waving it slightly, and-

And he’s holding the klystron conductor.

Of course.

“Do you want to tell me why you were ransacking my office for a multibillion dollar piece of tech?”

Your hands clench and unclench around the stiff sheets, and you lick your lips before responding.

“No, not particularly.”

You pause.

“Do you want to tell me why you hit me with your car?”

The corner of his mouth twitches.

He finds this funny?! What a psycho.

“Well, you did steal from me.”

“So you hit me with a car?!”

He raises an eyebrow, seemingly unimpressed with your raised tone.

“Regardless… I’m guessing it has something to do with this.”

Every muscle in your body goes rigid as he holds up your watch, casually dangling it from his forefinger as he carefully observes you for any signs of a reaction.

Okay, okay, just… play it cool.

“What, a watch? Pfft, keep it, it’s not worth much. Just some piece of crap I won in a claw machine ten years ago.”

Your knuckles are white from the force of your grip as you all but strangle the bed sheets beneath your grasp.

He smirks slightly, nodding empathetically.

“Ah, of course. So, you won’t mind if I toss it in the trash, right? Since it’s just an old piece of crap and all that?”

You shrug, keeping your eyes on his and away from the watch. “Go for it.”

And he does.

He tosses it in the trash can beside your cot, still watching closely from some reaction.

You remain nonchalant.

“...hm, well. Rest up then. You’ll need all your energy- Prison in Gotham is a harsh place.”

You blanch.

“Prison? But- But technically I didn’t even steal! You got it back, didn’t you?”

His mouth quirks slightly at that.

Great. He finds amusement in my suffering.

“While that’s true, you did break into Wayne Enterprises. And my personal office. I have the evidence. That’s grounds enough for an arrest, wouldn’t you agree?”

He stands, sliding his hands into his pockets and taking a casual stance.

Fine. I can play along for a bit.

“...okay. I-I’m sorry. Fine, you can hand me over to the cops, just- Just please let me rest for a bit? I think you might’ve concussed me.”

He huffs a laugh, his eyes lighting up in amusement. He knows you’re lying. And you know he knows.

“Okay. Take all the time you need.”

He leaves without another word, not looking back.

And not a moment too soon.

As the door shuts, you glitch, painfully spasming, your cells electrified and fizzing.

You fall out the cot, collapsing onto the floor as you grip the edge of the trash can, rifling through it in your search for the watch.

Slipping it onto your wrist and tightening the clasp, you-

…this isn’t my watch.

The door opens again and in strolls the culprit, a self-satisfied look in his eyes.

“Just a piece of junk, huh?”

“Oh, fuck y-”

You almost bite your tongue off mid sentence as you glitch again, clinging to the railing of the cot as your muscles stiffen up and your blood roils in your veins.

He’s speaking, confused and panicked as he calls out to you, and then someone else, rushing towards you. You think his hands might be on your arms. You aren’t sure.

Then it’s over. You’re hunched over, all but sprawled on the sparkling white tiles, shivering and sweaty, fighting the urge to throw up.

But it’s over.

You squint up at Bruce.

His face is hazy, and so is the figure behind his.

Everything is hazy, but you can feel the strap of your watch on your wrist, his hand just above it. You can feel how dry your mouth is, and the pounding of the growing migraine in your temples. And you can feel your spider sense tickling the edge of your consciousness, slowly growing in urgency with each passing moment.

“What the hell was that?”

The voice is a new one, one you haven’t heard before. It belongs to the figure lingering behind Bruce.

His face comes into focus as the effects of your glitch wear off.

Blue eyes. Just as startling and off putting as Bruce’s.

In fact, he seems like a carbon copy. Almost. His skin seems slightly more tanned, and he’s leaner than his older companion. Shorter too, though just by a few inches.

“That…” you say in a weary manner, “was a glitch. A painful one. I don’t recommend trying it.”

“A glitch?”

You deadpan, pushing yourself into a sitting position, leaning against the wall adjacent to your cot for support.

“Yeah. I just said that. Pay attention.”

“So that watch keeps you from… ‘glitching’ then?”

Bruce and his companion sport matching expressions of intrigue and dread.

“Yep. Ten points to Gryffindor.”

“...what’s a Gryffindor?”

Good God, I should’ve let Miguel kill me.

“...doesn’t matter. I’ve overstayed my welcome.”

You get up with an embarrassing amount of difficulty, grunting as you pull yourself up using the cot’s railing. Your enhanced healing could only work so fast, it seemed, and clearly Bruce had done a number on you with the bumper of his car.

The short stride to the door is cut short as the young Bruce lookalike steps in front of you.

“Sorry, but we can’t let you leave just yet. Where exactly are you from?”

“Earth. Please move.”

“I can’t do that. You should sit back down, you don’t look too hot.”

You let out a strangled noise of disbelief.

“Excuse me, I look very hot. All the time.”

A deadpan look is all you’re granted in response.

That’s it, I’ve had enough.

“Seriously. Move.”

“No. Sit down.”

Bruce sighs, massaging the bridge of his nose as you and his mini-me engage in a stare down.

“Okay, that’s enough. Dick, back up. Miss, please, sit down before you hurt yourself.”

You pause, glancing at Bruce, then back at the man in front of you.

There’s a slight pause, and then-

You burst into a fit of giggles, clutching your pained ribs as you stumble back and collapse onto the cot.

“Your name is Dick? Dick? Seriously?”

His eyes harden at your laughter, his mouth pressed in a tight line.

“...it’s not that funny,” he mutters, unimpressed.

“Yeah it is. Who willingly allows themselves to be called Dick? I can think of six penis jokes off the top of my head. You’re practically begging for them.”

Bruce interjects before either one of you can continue, sending Dick a sharp look.

Ha. Dick.

“That’s enough. What I want to know is why you’re glitching. And you won’t be going anywhere until I find out.”

You deadpan, fixing him with an incredulous look.

“...no offence, but you can’t really keep me here.”

“I can, and I will.”

You snort, laughter bubbling up in your chest once more.

“No, I mean- You can try, but you probably won’t succeed. No hard feelings though.”

“What, you mean because of your superpowers? Trust me, they won’t do you much good around here.”

His words give you pause, and you stare up at him silently for a moment.

“I don’t- What are you talking about?”

“There’s no use playing dumb,” Dick interjects. “It won’t get you very far. We know about your abilities, and we’re telling you that we know about them so that you don’t try anything.”

“And what exactly do you plan on doing if I do try something? Money can only get you so far.”

Your words make Bruce’s mouth twitch into a small smile once again.

“I have a theory, one I hope you’ll entertain for a moment.”

He looks at you expectantly.

After a moment of deliberation, a heavy sigh, and a nod, he smiles in a self-satisfied manner and takes a seat on the foot of your bed. After a short nod to Dick, he exits the room, leaving you and Bruce alone.

“I think that you’re from Earth, like you said. Just not this Earth. I think that you’re from another universe or dimension, and you’re ‘glitching’ because you’re not meant to be here. Am I right?”

It’s an effort to hide your reaction and keep your face blank, but you manage. Barely.

“Well, that’s certainly an… interesting theory. What sparked that idea?”

He shifts, staring at you for a moment, resting his palms on his thighs.

“...you fell from the sky. Out of what I can only assume is a portal. And your cells are basically decaying without that watch- or at least, that’s what my colleagues at Star Labs tell me.”

You stiffen at his words, squinting for a beat.

“How do you know I came through a portal? The only person around then was that idiot with the cape.”

Bruce frowns at your words.

“The cape isn’t stupid. It’s practical.”

You deadpan. “It’s a deathtrap.”

“Regardless. I know about all that because…”

He pauses.

“Because I’m Batman.”

“...Batman? Is that supposed to be a superhero alias or something? That’s the dumbest name I’ve ever heard- Did you pick it yourself?”

He lets out a noise of exasperation, annoyance painting his features.

“Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Changing the topic. It’s annoying.”

“...sorry.”

He shakes his head. “So? Am I correct in my assumption?”

You take a moment to think, really think, weighing your options. He didn’t seem like a bad person. Yes, he did hit you with his car. And yes, he wouldn’t let you leave, but…

But your spider sense had gone radio silent. If you were in any danger, it’d be ringing like crazy, so…

“Yes. Yeah, you are. I’m not from this Earth. I’m from Earth 662.”

“Earth… 662?”

“I just said that. Does everyone on this Earth struggle with processing information?”

He fixes you with a stern look before continuing on.

“So I assume you’re stranded here? That’s why you were trying to steal the klystron conductor.”

“Uh uh,” you tut disapprovingly. “I was borrowing it. I would’ve returned it… Eventually.”

Bruce nods along, rolling his eyes slightly as he continues.

“...Earth 662, huh… How many variations of Earth are there then-”

“I can’t tell you that.”

Your response is immediate and stern, leaving no room for debate.

Thankfully, Bruce doesn’t kick up a fuss.

“Hm… Well then, do you know how to get back?”

“Of course I do. I just need to fix up the watch. Hence the little heist I pulled off at your office.”

“And do you know how to fix it?”

You press your mouth into a tight line, avoiding the knowing look he gives you.

“Well, I mean… how hard can it be?”

He sighs. “That’s what I thought you’d say.”

There’s a pause, a lull in the conversation, and neither of you say anything for a long while, both lost in your own thoughts.

“Okay. Here’s what I propose. You obviously don’t know what you’re doing-”

“Hey!”

“-so I’ll help you out. I’ll help fix that watch of yours, and let you stay with me while we try to find you a way back home. In exchange, you’ll tell me about things from your Earth, and about the multiverse. Sound fair?”

As much as you’d like to argue, to refuse his more than generous offer, you know you can’t. You were smart, but not in the areas needed to fix the watch.

You needed his help.

Damn it.

“...fine. Deal.”

His hand feels cool and calloused in yours, and his grip is firm and reassuring.

If only you knew then how wrong things would go. Maybe you’d have refused his deal.

****

Four months later.

“...still nothing?”

“No. I’m sorry. I’ve sent Dick to Central City to find a few more parts.”

“It’s not your fault, I just… I really want to go home.”

It had been months.

You’d been stuck on this strange Earth, so similar to your own, for months.

While the Wayne Manor was nice, and its inhabitants lovely, you missed your home. You missed your family.

But there was nothing to be done about it. You’d damaged your watch more than you’d originally thought, the travel mechanism was completely destroyed.

Initially, you’d been foolishly optimistic, believing you’d return home within a week.

But that week had passed. Then another. And another.

Time kept passing, and you were still stuck here, four months later.

At least you had decent company.

While you didn’t exactly trust them, you’d grown fond of them. You might even have begun to consider them friends.

Dick had grown on you over the months, despite the rocky start to your friendship. He was reliable in a way that reminded you too much of the many variations of Peter Parker you’d met throughout your time in the Spider Society.

Tim, who you’d discovered was the ‘idiot in the cape’ you’d met on your first night on this Earth, was just as easy to get along with. At first, he’d thrown you off a bit with his unsociable personality, but he’d slowly opened up over time. Really, he was more of a nerd than anything else.

And he’d heeded your words of wisdom regarding the cape.

Damian, Bruce’s ‘prodigee’, was someone you still had trouble getting along with. Your relationship had improved over the months, but barely. Before, he’d outright ignore your presence. Now, he at least graced you with a nod of acknowledgement or the occasional verbal greeting.

How kind of him.

Bruce had become somewhat of a parental figure after he had walked in on you crying one night. While you were embarrassed, he’d taken it in stride, comforting you as best as he could, reassuring you that they’d find a way to send you back home.

“Oh, I know, I know. We’re all trying our best, just… try to be patient. We’ll find something soon, I promise.”

His palms rest on your shoulders, patting you reassuringly.

You nod in agreement, too tired and disheartened to say anything else as you mumble something about going to bed, turning to leave the room.

****

“And you’re sure no one knows she’s here? If they found out…”

“Yes Dick, I’m sure. I’m not an idiot, I know how to wipe a hard drive.”

There’s a slight lull in conversation as the two wait for the rest of the group to arrive.

A few minutes later, Bruce enters the room, Damian trailing behind him.

He walks to where the two are seated and puts the klystron conductor on the table before them.

“That’s the last one. Have you done everything else?”

Tim nods, gesturing to a singular hard drive placed on the coffee table.

“That’s the only remaining evidence of her presence on this Earth.”

Bruce nods and sighs, looking between the three men with him before Dick interjects.

“Do you- I mean, are we really going to do this? We’re supposed to be the heroes. This… This isn’t something we can undo.”

All three of his companions hold a steely glint in their eyes as they nod.

“I’m sure. It’s better this way. She’s just a kid, she doesn’t know what she needs. She’ll thank us for this in a few years.”

There’s a tense pause for a moment before he speaks again.

“Do it.”

And just like that, the final klystron conductor is destroyed, along with any hope you’d had of returning home.

“...she’ll thank us.”

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chvnnie · 2 years

Text

lol i am having some very feral thoughts about jeongin thnx to @woahfruity so uuuuuuhhhh hard thought coming through???

SMUT - MINORS DNI

yang jeongin x reader

genre: smut - MINORS DNI

wc: 1.4k

warnings: phone sex, mutual masturbation, mentions of oral, dom/sub elements, dirty talk. as always, not proofread. i'm a whore for this man i cannot-

taglist: @lix-ables, @rachalixie, @agustd-essert, @gibbysupremeacyisreal, @katieraven, @miamormi, @woahfruity, @isilentprincess, @hugs4chan, @stranger-thighs, @beautifulcolorgarden, @scottmcallisdaddy, @whatudowhennooneseesyou, @raspbinniecreme, @humayraaaaa

lying on his side, jeongin watches the city dance through his hotel windows. the blinking of a car's headlight, the dim streetlights, the sound of people outside chasing various highs. he looks into the windows of hotel rooms across from his own; some curtains drawn, the flashing lights of cable tv. what draws him in is the couple in the room directly across from his own.

one man sits with his back against the headboard, legs spread with his partner laying in between them. the other man has his arms wrapped around the other's waist, chin resting on their midsection as they stare up at their love. he says something, pulling a laugh from the other, who leans in a way that has to be uncomfortable to kiss the top of his head.

fuck. he misses you.

jeongin flips onto his back, reaching across the length of the bed to pick up his phone he ditched a while ago in favor of sleep that has yet to encapsulate him. no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't get his brain to shut off. there's really no point in trying now; he might as well distract himself.

being away from you never gets any easier. he loves his job, loves getting travel and meeting new people, trying new things. it's like a beautiful dream he never has to wake up from, and there's nothing he would change about this life.

he just wishes you could experience all of these wonders with him.

there's a special folder in his phone, filled with photos and videos of you. he taps on the top of his phone screen, starting at the very beginning of it. it was the first picture he had ever taken of you; sat across from him at a wooden table, elbow on the table as you prop your cheek in your hand. your eyes are shut, a bright smile on your face. the next photo is similar to the first, taken on the same day, but instead of smiling, you're laughing, face scrunched in pure joy.

jeongin swears he can hear it, like you're right next to him.

closing out of photos, he opens his messages, typing before he can really think.

jeongin [01:46]: hey. awake?

you [01:46]: did you just "u up?" me?

jeongin [01:47]: ...it's endearing.

he watches as the text bubble disappears and reappears for the next few seconds until his phone starts to vibrate, your name flashing across the top of it. tapping accept, your face fills the small screen. similar to jeongin, you're also in bed, the warm light of the bedside lamp highlighting your face. he can see the exhaustion in your eyes, laced with a brightness when your eyes meet his through the screen.

"can't sleep?"

"not really." his voice is raspy and low from the overuse. "it's hard to sleep without you."

your soft laugh flows through the speaker, immediately filling the void that's been in his chest since he left for tour. "hotel bed feeling a little cold?"

"more than a little."

"yeah. mine, too."

it's a comfort to know that you long for him in the same way he does - he doesn't want to be around you all the time, he needs to. without you, he's like a fish out of water, flopping around and waiting for someone to return him to the place he feels the safest. instead of water, it's your arms. his breath, his heartbeat, the blood flowing through his body. you're his life source.

running a hand through his hair, he releases a deep sigh. "fuck, i can't wait to be home."

"me, too." you say, a hint of sadness in your voice. as happy as you are to support him and his career, the lack of time together does suck. "but you're having fun right?"

jeongin gives you a run down of his day, from the breakfast he ate that morning to detailed descriptions of the faces he saw in the crowd that night. you listen intently, asking questions with a smile on your face.

he watches as your blinks get slower, your yawns a little louder. "go to bed, baby. we can talk tomorrow."

groaning sleepily, you shake your head. "no, i can't."

"come on, you're yawning. it's time to sleep."

"yeah, but-never mind." you quickly shut your mouth, breaking his eye contact. he's confused for a beat; why did you stop yourself? but jeongin knows you. knows your tells. the way your breathing has deepened a bit, lips pressed together as you nervously play with your hair.

ah, that's why you can't sleep.

he huffs a deep laugh, wetting his lips as he narrows his eyes on you. "hey. look at me, baby." purposely drawing out his words, he watches you shudder, shyly looking back at him. "that's a good girl. why don't you tell me why you can't sleep?"

you tightly twirl your hair around your finger, struggling to maintain eye contact with him. "i just miss you, innie..."

"miss me how?"

the hand not holding his phone creeps under the cover, resting atop of his semi as he watches you stumble over your words. they're slightly whiny, causing a groan to build in his throat. when you get like this, it drives him insane. you're like clay, perfect to dig his fingers into and mold to his liking. using you the way he sees fit with little resistance.

"the-" you swallow, throat suddenly dry as you stumble for words. "the way you make me feel-innie, please don't make-"

"say it." he says firmly.

"i miss the way you make me feel good."

god. he's dizzy, head spinning and body aching. if he closes his eyes, he can feel your skin on his, body writhing beneath him as he whispers the dirtiest words in your ear. cock fully hard, he begins to palms him over his boxers. "aw, baby. you don't think i can make you feel good from here?"

"i-i didn't say that."

it's the way you get flustered, a small whimper following your words as you squirm a bit. "why don't you get one of your little toys and i'll show you how fucking good my words can make you feel?"

the way you quickly drop your phone, the sound of the bedside table opening in the background is like an ego boost, further proving his point. when you're back on the screen, he sees the little pink bullet he bought for you just for moments like this.

"take off your clothes. show me."

it's almost comical, the speed in which you strip out of your bed shirt and panties, holding your phone over your body and panning it across your exposed skin, showing off every inch of you. when you get to your center, he stops you.

somehow, you prop the phone up, the camera focusing in on your folds. they're glistening in the dim light, so damp jeongin is wondering how it didn't seep through your panties and wet the bed. he releases a deep, but quiet moan. "oh, my pretty baby. what a mess you've made."

it's cute, the way he can see your hole clench at his words. "h-help me-"

cooing, he slips his hand into his boxers and slowly begins to tug on his cock. "don't worry. i'll always take care of my baby. show me how you touch yourself when i'm not around."

jeongin feels like he's going to bust immediately when you start to tease yourself with one hand, holding the buzzing vibrator to the clit with the other. slowly you circle the tip around the sensitive nub, sweet moans of his name falling from your lips.

"does it feel good, baby?"

he takes your loud moan as a yes, watching as your legs start to tremble try to shut. it's a beautiful sight, something that makes him drool all over himself. he wishes he could reach through the screen, both hands on your hips as he holds your core flush to his face. he wants to drown in your cunt, pulling orgasm after orgasm from you as you ride his tongue.

fuck. fuck, the thought makes his balls tighten, breaths deepening as he tries to keep himself grounded. jeongin has to see your ruin the sheets before he can ruin the hotel's.

which, given the volume of your moans, won't be long.

jeongin hears you struggling for words, cries breaking up the pathetic excuse for sentences you keep trying to spill. his moans mix with yours, filling his empty hotel room with the beautiful melody.

"cum." he grunts out, trying not to roll his eyes back as the flick of his wrist increases. "show me how much you fucking miss me."

#skz smut #stray kids smut #straykidsland #yang jeongin smut #jeongin smut #i.n smut #chvnnie thots

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sylphidine · 1 year

Text

[Fic] Call Signs, Chapter 27

Yup, for real this time.

Fandom: Deltarune

‘Verse: Human AU

Pairing: Swatch/Spamton [Swatchton]

Characters: Spamton Addison, Swatch Paletta

Rating: Mature

Chapter title: The Wrong Way On The Escalator

Chapter summary: Spamton borrows trouble.

Author notes:

I've rewritten this chapter six times. Hopefully this version will be worth the wait, dear readers. Kudos and comments definitely welcome, since I've second-guessed myself on the flow of this tale for months.

Content warning for alcohol mention.

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

The host and the guest sat in matching leather wingback chairs flanking a fireplace, brandy glasses in hand, listening as sleet hit the windows. The guest sat ramrod stiff, while the host’s foot tapped the floor in agitation.

The words burst out of the host’s mouth, without a trace of his usual stutter.

“Why did I do it? Why did I just walk out? How are they going to react when I say, ‘So sorry, Swatch, I couldn’t handle your good news and decided to go out on the town with an old drinking buddy, and we ended up in bed together along with my drinking buddy’s ex. Such a pity you couldn’t join us.’ That’s going to go over really, really well. Swatch is going to think I'm the worst kind of idiot."

T.M. glared at Spamton, her face hard, her eyes cold behind diamond-shaped eyeglasses, one lens plum, one turquoise. "You're right about being thought an idiot, but not for the reasons you think. Wake up, little worm."

Her response stopped his babble in its tracks and shocked him into silence. That phrase - "little worm” - had always been Mike’s most overused insult for him.

It wasn't Mike saying such horrible things, though. It was T.M., his friend, someone who was as dear to him as… well, anyone. Why was she being so cruel?

She raised her now-empty hand, and sickly green tendrils shot out from her fingers across the room towards him.

His mouth opened and closed, but he couldn't make a sound no matter how hard he tried.

He could still move, though. He wouldn't become a puppet again. Not for T.M., not for Mike.

Not for…

Not for anyone.

He launched himself at her, striking at her wildly, trying to shake off the strings even as she repeated, "Wake up. Wake up. Wake—"

“--- Wake up, Spamton. Wake up, please. Please, my dear.”

It was the “my dear” that pulled Spamton out of the dream and stopped him flailing his arms. He heard a ragged edge in Swatch’s voice that made it sound as though they had been trying to rouse him for longer than a few minutes. His heart continued to pound, but gradually he recognized that he was awake, he was in his and Swatch’s bed, and that he was safe.

For the moment, anyway.

Swatch was propped up on one elbow and leaning over him, their hand extended as though to shake him. Spamton shifted away from them so he could roll over onto his back. He muttered in his own sleep-roughened voice, “It was j-j-j-just a dream. Just a bad dream. J-just like all - all the others I have.”

Spamton meant his words to be reassuring, but Swatch's worried look didn't lessen in the least. "This one seemed worse than most," they replied. "You don't usually sock me in the jaw when you're dreaming."

That woke Spamton up completely. "Oh my god, I did? I'm s-s-so sorry!" He sat up and gently rubbed his face against his partner's. "I didn't - didn't mean to."

"Hmmmmph. Are you sure about that? Considering how you snuck out of the house and were gone for hours, I'm pretty sure you're still upset about what we talked about over dinner."

So much for Spamton thinking his absence had gone unnoticed. Sometimes Swatch's keen skills of observation were endearing. Other times they were downright annoying. Like now.

Spamton's indecision as to how to answer them must have shown on his face, because Swatch's expression changed from worried to knowing. They confirmed it by adding, "I'm right, aren't I?"

There was a smile in their voice, with a silent undercurrent of understanding and forgiveness. Spamton couldn't stay annoyed.

"Yes, you're right," he admitted. "But I wasn't slugging - slugging YOU in m-m-m-my dream. I was slugging T.M.”

At that, Swatch let out a half laugh, half snort, lying back down and pulling Spamton onto their chest. "And why would you have reason to slug her?" they asked. "In your dream, anyway. I must admit sometimes Moggy can be a bit overbearing and demanding, but I'm far too much of a gentleman to slug her." "I tried t-t-to slug her b-because she was ch-channeling Mike."

"Ah. that explains it."

Spamton growled in frustration, his breath stirring a curl hanging loose from Swatch's nighttime ponytail. "Why does EVERYTHING always have to - have to c-come back to Mike? The bastard w-w-won't leave me alone, even in his g-grave."

"I know, I know." Swatch kissed the top of Spamton's head. "So… since we're both awake, how about we get up and finish off the macarons? And," as they suited action to words, sliding their long body out of bed, "you can tell me what's really on your mind. Don't think I don't know 'Angel of the Morning' when I hear it."

“C-c-can’t get away with nuthin' around you, can I? I’m going to - going to st-start calling you ‘Columbo’, especially if you do the ‘just one more thing’ b-bit.” Spamton tossed back the covers, wincing as his sore feet hit the floor, which also did not go unnoticed. He interrupted Swatch as they opened their mouth to comment, “To answer your next ques-question, I w-w-walked a little longer than I planned.”

"Hmmmm. Macarons and milk first, then I'll give you a foot rub. Alright?"

"Okay."

Earlier that night...Spamton had just stepped onto the front path when Swatch pulled into the townhouse’s driveway. He rushed up the stoop stairs to put the porch light on.

“S-sorry, I didn’t know you were going to be home l-later than me,” he apologized as he dug through his messenger bag for his house keys. Swatch laughed warmly, answered, “Not to worry, I’m not holding it against you”, and followed him indoors. They both hung their outerwear on the coat tree in the foyer before turning to each other and embracing. Spamton dropped his bag and stretched upwards on the tips of his toes; Swatch leaned down and rubbed their nose against Spamton’s cheek. “Still very glad to have you to come back to after a long day,” they added.

“A v-very long day here t-too. Two digital lab sessions in a row. B-b-but at least I’m f-finally getting into coursework that has some m-m-meat to it.”

“Mmmmmm, meat.” Swatch led the way to the kitchen. “That reminds me, any problem if we use up the leftovers from the party? The meatballs and stuff.”

“M-meatballs are never a problem for me. Ever.”

“Ye gods, you are so easy to please. Food-wise, anyway.”

Spamton moved over to the cabinets to get dishes out while Swatch rummaged in the fridge. “You g-get a lot less p-p-picky about food when you’re picking food out of - out of a dumpster.”

“I can imagine. Ah ha! We’ve got extra shredded mozzarella, too.”

Swatch pulled out the disposable chafing pan covered with foil, walked it over to the counter, and went back for the cheese.

"Nice d-d-deflection," commented Spamton as he collected serving utensils and silverware. "You used to g-gasp in horror any time I brought up my - my street p-person days."

"Hmmm. I don't think I actually GASPED. That would be beneath my dignity." Swatch slid the foil pan onto a baking sheet and slid them both into the oven. "But funny you should bring up your 'bad old days' again."

"Oh?"

"Yes, because those bad old days were a matter of discussion a few hours ago."

Spamton thought of any number of replies he could give, but decided against the first two sharp retorts that came to mind. Instead, he finished setting the kitchen island with the plates that Swatch handed him, poured them each a large glass of Dr Pepper [a shared weakness], and then clambered onto a stool. He could be patient; this was Swatch, after all. Swatch didn’t tend to leave conversations hanging, or to be swept under rugs, the way conversations in the Addison household often were.

And Swatch didn’t disappoint. The food came out of the oven and they each helped themselves to the appropriate portion sizes. About halfway through the meal, Swatch casually said, “I had a meeting with your brother Ballew today about a possible internship at Addison Cybernetics.”

"Oh? That's… good, I g-guess?"

"Hmmm. It could be good. It could also be a huge mistake. I had just planned to ask for career advice, but then he brought up internships. And the talk just went on from there."

The expression on Swatch’s face was thoughtful, but their eyes were bright with excitement and hope, and he could almost feel that hope and excitement in waves on the air. Swatch's next words, however, sounded like they'd rehearsed them many times, "May and June are right around the corner. For you, that means the end of the semester. For me, it means graduation and the end of any financial safety net I have as a college student. I’ve got to get a job and a new place to live, since our lease here ends when Mrs. Anselmo gets back from Italy. I have all the respect in the world for you as a person, Spamton, but you're not familiar with what I'm studying, either the programming stuff or the engineering. Ballew is, or at least he works with people who are. I can't help it if he's your brother, can I?"

Spamton took his time answering, cutting one of the big meatballs into tiny pieces with his knife and fork, then scooping mozzarella up with each piece. This was a lot to unpack, in his mind at least. He ruthlessly shoved down the noise his heart was making as it shattered.

Finally he managed to say, "It sounds like - like a p-perfect match for your skill set."

"it does, doesn't it?"

And that would have to do until Spamton could be alone in his head to chew this over.

His normal coping mechanism when he needed to do deep thinking was to take a long walk. His body’s exhaustion sang another tune. And at this point Swatch was trying to hide a yawn, despite it not even being 8pm yet.

“D-do you want to c-c-call it an early night?” he asked hopefully, and was relieved when Swatch nodded. They got up to put their plates and utensils in the wash basin in the sink, running hot water and adding dish soap before saying “I’ll do these in the morning. I’m beat.”

“Okay.”

Spamton went and sat at the piano, resting his hands in his lap until Swatch could join him on the bench. Tired as he was, he didn’t want to skip the nightly music ritual. After all, who knew how much longer it would last.

He shouldn’t have been surprised when his fingers were ahead of his conscious thoughts and picked out a melancholy tune. He felt Swatch’s bodily warmth at his side, but it couldn’t completely banish his inner cold.

He didn't sing tonight, but the words of the first verse and the concluding chorus played in his mind anyway as the notes flowed out of his hands onto the keyboard.

There'll be no strings to bind your hands/Not if my love can't bind your heart/ And there's no need to take a stand/For it was I who chose to start

Just call me angel of the morning, then slowly turn away/ I won't beg you to stay with me through the tears of the day, of the years

Spamton leaned against Swatch’s shoulder when he came to the end of the song, and Swatch wrapped an arm around him in silence.

Neither spoke as they got into bed, Swatch drifting off almost immediately.

But of course Spamton couldn't sleep, busy brain overruling tired body. After more than an hour of forcing himself to stay in one position, he gave up, got dressed quickly and quietly, and slipped out the front door feeling like a mournful ghost.

He didn't feel much better when he let himself back into the house around 3am, but he dropped off to sleep almost immediately once he returned to Swatch's side in bed.

And he dreamed.

Now Spamton was back on the familiar breakfast stool with an empty milk glass and the crumbs from two tiramisu macarons in front of him. He didn't dissemble when he talked about going to T.M.'s dorm to vent about Swatch, nor about her metaphorically handing his head to him when she pointed out, quite rightly, that sometimes it wasn't all about him and it might be nice for someone to listen to her problems for a change instead of bringing their problems to her. He didn't try to hide that, after leaving T.M.'s dorm, he'd run into his lab partner Seam Docherty and they'd gone to the Green Leaf for a few beers.

"Huh, small world. I didn't know you knew Seam. Do they still have the eyepatch and the orange-and-purple mohawk?"

"Almost. it's - It's st-still orange and p-purple, but it's m-m-more of a mix between a bihawk and a fauxhawk now." Spamton couldn't hold back a giggle as he leaned forward and half-whispered, "They have it shaped into k-k-k-kitty ears this year. Goes great with - with all the leather and ch-ch-ch-ch-chains."

That sweet smile that Spamton loved so much bloomed across Swatch's face at that comment, and he wanted to dare to hope that the two of them could surmount this crisis.

But first he had to address the elephant in the room.

"D-do you WANT to work for Addison Cybernetics? Or do - do you just think it's something you SHOULD do?"

Swatch finished what was on their plate, then answered Spamton's question with a question of their own, "Is this going to be weird for you? If I do end up working there, I mean."

“Of c-c-course it's going to be weird. But I c-can't be the one to say WHY it's going to be weird. That's gotta be on you, Swatch.”

"Okay, then. Cards on the table." Swatch took a deep breath, looked Spamton in the eye, and said, "I don't want you thinking I'm just another Mike."

And hearing that made the elephant far more manageable, in Spamton's mind.

“I d-d-don’t think you could BE another Mike if you tried,” he said finally. “But I’ll be honest. I didn’t know wh-what to feel about it. You asking - asking my brother for advice. Before asking me, I mean.”

Swatch's voice took on a pleading tone. "I’m doing my best to avoid a conflict of interest. Please tell me this isn't going to mess things up with us."

Spamton felt a physical pang in his chest as he looked back at Swatch. His hand shot out to grab theirs across the island counter, coming perilously close to knocking dishes onto the floor. "Never," he hissed. "I won't - won’t let it."

He looked down at his and Swatch's clasped hands and said more quietly, "You’ve said b-b-before that you don’t want things handed to you. And you’re right… I’m n-not an engineer or any k-kind of math or design whiz. I’m still playing c-c-catchup from everything I missed in m-my life from chasing Mike’s pipe dream. B-but I think I’m a pretty good - pretty good sounding b-board, and I will always listen to you, as long as you want me to.”

He could feel their big hand tremble in his as Swatch replied, "And the same goes for you. Did you really think telling you about my laying groundwork for the future was my way of breaking up with you?"

"Well... y-yes."

"Well, wrong."

The cuckoo clock in the living room sang out that it was now five a.m.

"C-c-can you skip classes today?" Spamton asked, letting go of Swatch's hand, sliding off the stool and stretching.

After a minute's reflection, Swatch answered, "Probably. But why?"

"B-b-because after we both get some sleep, I need to t-tell you everything about Mike. EVERYTHING. From the- the very b-beginning."

#swatchton #deltarune chapter 2 #spamton addison #swatch paletta #swatchton au #sylph writes #fic: call signs

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chaibewriting · 2 years

Text

GENERATIONAL DAMAGE

prince! enji todoroki x poc friendly! fem! reader x platonic! todoroki kiddos

previous chapter chapter two || masterpost next chapter

author’s note: hello sweet bun! welcome to another chapter of one of my upcoming series! i hope that you enjoy and as for the fanart above, i drew it as my headcannon of what enji currently looks like since he’s a bit on the younger side (screaming without the s). ~ tap image for better quality ~ anyways, let’s get into it 😩

content warnings: injuries, fighting/sparring, blood, dabi has PTSD, hurt and comfort, enji is an asshole as usual, angsty, emotional,

word count: 2.6k

Taken aback, Y/N had been dragged along, unable to fully take in her surroundings considering the grip that Enji had on her, pulling her along as if she weighed nothing. She never expected to be manhandled in such a way and was having trouble getting her thoughts together, not even being able to use her quick wit to get her out of this situation.

Before she knew it, the three of them had ended up in a rather spacious room that seemed to have been worn down from overuse.

You couldn’t miss the way that Dabi’s hand seemed to tremble. Something in this room was spooking him but you were unable to pinpoint what it was exactly.

Once you were fully inside of the room, the magnificent doors shutting behind you, Enji finally removed his hand from your arm, leaving you to collect yourself after being so swiftly removed from the ballroom.

At this point, you could zero fucks about this man’s status, pissed about how roughly he had handled you, and decided to do something like this without even asking.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Didn’t your parents teach you some manners?” You all but barked at the bulky redhead, glaring into his oceanic eyes that held a dangerous glint in them. Something was really off with this guy.

Ignoring your questions as well as your blatant disrespect, Enji spoke, “Fight me. Prove to me that you’re worth my hand in marriage.”

Your jaw nearly fell off right then and there after hearing his proposal. Seconds passed and everything snapped together, making you straighten up, all while still holding little Dabi’s hand as you considered this man’s words. There were so many things to consider.

Your mother had wanted you to find a way to create more allies, and help your kingdom become stronger whilst your father’s health had declined. If you were to get married then you could lessen the load on the back of your parents and gather your responsibilities as queen.

As you began to further ponder his words, your eyes drifted to the side and somewhat behind you to take a glance at Dabi who soon met your eyes, his eyes widening in shock and surprise, not able to say anything as he simply waited for either of you to say something.

You took his expression, as well as Enji’s burning gaze, and cleared your throat before deciding to let go of Dabi’s hand, causing the boy to nearly whimper at the loss of contact. Swiftly turning around to face him, you squatted down to his height and stroked his hair a few times before offering a reassuring smile, whispering to him in a comforting manner, “No need to look so pale, little one. Nothing bad’s going to happen, okay?”

Hearing those words, he looked at you as if you had two heads, undoubtedly knowing something that you didn’t.

Enji, observing the exchange between the two of you, smirked at your comment and then began to remove his flashy blazer as well as the ruffled button-up that was especially suffocating, only a dark tank top being left in their absence. He flexes his muscular arms and then got into a fighting stance, sizing you up as he waited for you to get into position as well.

You motioned for Dabi to back away from the scene so that he wouldn’t end up getting injured in the process of this “sparring match.”

When you had finally turned to face Enji, you couldn’t help the way your eyes had lingered on his muscular form, drinking him in like a cold glass of water. As quickly as you stared at him was as quickly as you tore your gaze away from his body, deciding to adjust your own clothing so that you could move around a little more freely (as freely as you could in that stupid dress, anyways).

Getting into your own stance, though you lacked any formal combat training you did know how to protect yourself somewhat since being a princess could lead to some tricky situations, Enji took that as a sign that you were ready to fight him and proceeded to burst into flames, rushing towards you at an unbelievable speed.

Fire, that was his awakened power, though you did not know anything else aside from that. You could work with that.

Your body soon became engulfed in our own black flames that were a bit smokey, your eyes covered by multicolored flames. You see his movements before they even came at you but that did not mean you were able to dodge all of them considering his swiftness and speed, though you tried to dodge the best you could.

When prompted to, you would dodge, weave, and block, grunting and hissing when he came into contact with your limbs or other parts of your body, offering up a counterattack using your powers to push him back and create distance between the both of you.

Though you were holding your own, even injuring prince Enji in the process (much to his surprise) it was obvious who was the victorious one in this battle and it sure as hell was not you. To put it plainly, he was kicking your ass but you were somewhat expecting that you were still considerably well-off in the durability aspect of your abilities which further proved your worth in Enji’s eyes.

Off to the side, nearly tucked away into the nearest corner, Dabi watched the two of you fight with shaking limbs, his voice caught up in the back of his throat as he watched his father hit and strike you without remorse or holding back… just as he did with him. The pain of seeing you in such a state made him think of his own, causing him to shrink in on himself and fall to the floor, pulling his knees to his chest tears spilling from his eyes while he covered his ears.

“PLEASE! PLEASE DON’T HURT HER ANYMORE!” His little voice cried out, shaking in the process as he tried his best to project.

His sudden shout caused you to turn your head sharply to scope out his location, a crestfallen expression gracing your face when you had noticed how he had curled in on himself yet his eyes caught yours for the umpteenth time that evening, except this time they were glossy and worried.

While you were distracted, a rookie mistake for any fighter, Enji had taken the opportunity to overtake you, striking you with some much force and power that you few across the room and knocked into the wall, yelping as you slammed into it, dropping to the floor. You laid there, losing consciousness for a split second before coming too again, slowly lifting yourself up before you glanced at Enji’s face with nothing but rage and hatred, opening your mouth as smoke escaped from it. Your pupils turned into splits and you swore that you had seen red for a second until you began coughing, looking away from his triumphant face. You roughly rubbed at your throat and chest, wincing at the pain where he had struck you- your cheek, it would certainly leave a bruise from the punch he had landed on you.

You could already feel the blood trickling from your nose as well as your busted lip but chose to ignore it, trying to regain the feeling in your leg so that you could go and kick his face in for what he had done.

However, that soon changed when Dabi came stumbling over to you like a frightened lamb, throwing himself onto you as he wrapped his arms around you and buried his face into your neck and then cried, almost instantly soaking your skin in his tears, “Y/N…” You’d stiffened immediately, slowly starting to acknowledge the true damage that Enji had caused in the midst of your fight, but you wrapped your arms around Dabi and held him close, tracing circles onto his back to attempt to soothe him. Your eyes looked away from Enji, more focused on the crying child who resided in your arms. Your injuries could wait, this was more pressing.

As you continued to soothe the crying child, you shut your eyes and blocked Enji’s presence out completely, focusing on Dabi and Dabi only as he slowly began to relax in your arms, his sobbing turning into light sniffles.

“You’ve got potential. Consider yourself lucky, potential future queen of Ignis,” Enji said from where he stood, which seemed to be a foot in front of you. You had been so focused on Dabi that you hadn’t noticed the closing distance between yourself and the merciless man who had put you and Dabi in this position.

You looked up at him and squinted at him the best you could with the slight swelling of your right eye, glaring at him as he glared right back at you, even though his gaze seemed to soften just a teaspoon as he watched you comfort his son. The both of you shared gazes for a bit longer, almost like an eternity before he finally turned and left the room, leaving you to console his son after he redressed himself. You watched as he had left, eyes remaining on the door even after they had shut. Only then did you start to truly take your surroundings in.

The moonlit sky showed brightly through the windows on the wall opposite of you, lighting the gigantic room up with blues and whites that made you realize that this was a training room, a few decimated dummies made of hay splayed around the room. Scorch and burn marks littered the floors and walls, you could only assume this was Enji’s own private gym, even noticing the variety of medieval work-out equipment that was spread out in the room.

Whilst you were observing the room and using your quirk to slowly heal yourself, you failed to notice that the toddler you held in your arms was now fast asleep, it seemed that being so upset had tuckered him out and he felt safe enough to slumber in your embrace. A bittersome scene.

…

It was somewhat anticipated that you would not return to the ballroom, but Enji had decided it was the best time to share his news. His mother would be pleased, she had been the one bitching at him about finding a suitable partner anyways. And he had found one.

As Enji had reentered, bruises apparent on his face that was unscathed before he’d left, the ballroom, not a trace of you or his son in sight, many onlookers began to speculate what had happened, some even having to stop themselves from gasping at the sight of him. Had he taken you to his private quarters and attempted to ravish you only to be met with physical rejection? Did you strike one of the strongest heirs amongst the kingdoms? What had happened exactly?

“Mother, I’ve found someone suitable to my taste,” he suddenly said as he bowed in front of the throne that his mother sat in, glancing over her disheveled-looking son with an unamused expression.

The queen remained silent, not saying a thing to his words. Instead, she waited for him to further elaborate on his words, which he got the hint of. The room had fallen completely quiet, everyone within it began to listen in on the exchange between the two, wanting to know more.

Your mother had conspicuously come closer to listen in as well, worried about what had happened to you. If he had done anything horrible to you she would do everything in her power to kill him, she did not mind the war that could come if she had to make it a reality.

“We fought. Though she lacks in experience, she would make a powerful queen, just as you had asked of me,” he continued, slowly standing up straight to stare at the older woman as he spoke, “We will make powerful children together, I am certain of that. Her awakened power is something that I have never seen before but I am sure it could truly be destructive.”

The queen of Ignis retained her bored expression but then slowly sat up when he had said something so profound about having strong offspring, this seemed to please her, even though anyone looking at her who did not know her mannerisms would have never noticed.

“Very well, we will schedule a meeting between kingdoms and plan accordingly. I will trust your judgment for now unless I have a reason not to.”

Truth be told, she had been witness to the exchange between her son and Y/N but she had ended up losing interest and dissociated from the situation, completely ignoring everything around her, she hadn’t even truly looked at you anyways.

After the exchange between her son and herself, which could have happened in a more private setting, she finally acknowledged the many witnesses around them and scoffed before waving her hand around, “Continue as you were before.” Almost immediately, the orchestra began to play again, filling the awkward silence with classical music and people returned to the dance floor, attempting to continue as nothing had happened.

…

Sitting in this position was starting to take a toll on your lower body, and you were starting to become concerned about your mother’s safety which filled you with a new determination as you slowly managed to get onto your feet while holding Dabi safely in your arms. With the aid of the wall that your back had been resting against for some minutes now you eventually made it to your feet and grunted at the feelings of pins and needles that shot up your left, leaving you temporaily paralyzed and silently hissing at the uncomfortable sensation of static.

Once you’d got rid of the sensation in your leg, you exhaled and then began to walk towards the doors that led you in here, using your power to open the doors before you before stepping out into the cold, dimly lit hallway. You began to try and recollect your steps, turning in the direction of where you had come from, slowly walking down the hall with the slumbering toddler in your arms who had begun to drool on your shoulder.

Suddenly stopping, you remembered your current state and sighed, leaning over just slightly to fix the bottom of your skirt that you had tucked into your underslip, trying your best to readjust your dress before continuing your journey to the ballroom, Dabi in tow.

As you began to approach the ballroom, you noticed a familiar form lingering in front of the opened doors, shifting her weight around as she seemed to be waiting for something. Your speed picked up when you realized it was your mother who had been anxiously waiting for you, pestering the guards on duty with questions about your whereabouts. No one would give her the information she needed and she was on the verge of using her fists instead of her words.

“Mom,” you chirped to her, closing the distance between the two of you. Hearing your voice, your mother turned to you quickly and smiled when she realized that you weren’t dead but her face immediately fell when she had noticed the state you were in, quickly approaching you to look at you with worry in her eyes. “What the hell happened?” She whispered-yelled, realizing that you were still holding the sleeping boy comfortably in your arms.

The question made you sigh but you decided to joke a little, trying to lessen the awkwardness that was starting to blossom, “I got us a new ally. Aren’t you proud of me?”

…

Hope you enjoyed today’s chapter! More drama to come!! :v

taglist: (always open, ask and you shall receive) @easilyobessedbutflighty @rogueofbullshit

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slytherbun · 3 years

Text

confession

pairing: jay halstead x reader

summary: you find yourself in some trouble while clearing a location with your partner jay.

word count: 2.8k

tags: @specialagentsoftie @fighterkimburgess @everythingaddictxx

note: different kind of pd fic then i'm used to but hope y'all like it! ☺

"we're eight minutes out. don't go in yet." voight said into the mic but you and jay had already entered a second too late.

jay's been your partner for almost a year now. the one he had before you was a blonde named hailey that took a position from the fbi.

when you first met him it was about a month after the previous detective left and you could tell he was obviously still in denial. you gave him space and only input your opinion about cases you worked on with intelligence.

it took about three weeks until he actually said anything besides the occasional comment. and he knew deep down that you weren't trying to replace her. but since you were together a lot during the week—jay couldn't help but make his own conclusion about you.

he started to open up more when he looked past the stubbornness after concluding that you were a decent person. for a moment there, you could have sworn he was having an out of body experience with how nice he started treating you.

jay started to invite you out to drinks on a periodic basis. he wanted to explore the possibilities of having you as his permanent partner. one night after a couple of drinks, jay was in a good mood and showed you a picture of his old partner.

the two of them were standing in front of their new work truck with bright smiles on their faces. he talked about her a lot after that night as a way of meeting you half-way. and by the end of that month—it was as if you physically knew her and who she was as a person.

the both of you hit it off pretty well and became friends. even as far as, having drinks every tuesday and thursday after work at molly's—the firefighter owned bar.

jay mumbled a curse at the order voight gave but it was already too late. "get behind me." he spoke in a hushed whisper. not wanting to argue in that particular moment you did as told.

detective halstead had his gun raised and in a firm grip around his fingers before stepping further into the house. you followed his position and warily stepped more into the creaky house.

luckily the both of you had vests already on and around your chests. the material easily gave you a visual view of his arm muscles around the freckles splayed across his biceps.

right away you spotted the cans of spray paint sitting on the concrete living room floors. crude words were traced along the four walls and you couldn't help but scrunch your nose at the horrid smell.

it only had you raising your pistol higher.

while you glanced around to survey the room closely, you couldn't help but notice the gang symbols that you were familiar with. due to the cpd database you knew at least three different affiliations drawn over the wood boarded windows.

the overused drug house looked like something out of a horror movie.

"clear." he grunted between paced cautious breaths and you continued to walk behind his careful steps around the garbage to venture into the main hallway of the house.

jay stopped at the entryway and you turned back around to double check the area once again while he scanned the front view where you and he needed to go.

both sides of the hallway were clear but he made sure his gun was raised and followed every inch of the hallway space that he inspected.

you felt a tap on your waist and turned back around to see jay was still facing forward. he probably hadn't noticed the spot he touched of your body but it still sent shivers down your spine with the intimacy of it.

but you pushed away the anxiousness to check and see what was bothering jay. the only thought you should be having right now is how to get out of the dangerous position.

the hallway was full of open and vulnerable space. a clear point of range that could be taken advantage of to take either you or jay out at any time.

jay was concerned for you. he couldn't help the anxious feeling that he had in the pit of his stomach. the unknowingness ahead in the crack house irked him greatly that he couldn’t predict what was about to happen.

the walls of the hallway smelled highly metallic and if that hadn't given it away, the walls were filled with fresh blood splatter. you gulped at the sight of the bright red handprints going down the length of the hall and glanced at jay from the corner of your eye with an eyebrow raised.

he sighed and nodded his head while pointing his gun to the left to signal the continuance of moving on. you bit the bottom of your lip and tipped your head to let him know you were ready to go.

turning your body in a three hundred sixty angle, you watched his back and felt the hairs on the back of your neck lift up in a static gesture. you could also feel goosebumps all over your arms and you just wanted to hurry up and get out of there.

it was truly the most awful scene you've ever been to. with everything you had—you kept yourself together and calm. your lips were in a straight line the whole time.

you should have known with the uneasy feeling that things were going wrong within a split second. and you were right because after jay turned just slightly he felt a gun being pressed against his forehead.

“put your guns down or else i’m going to blow his head off.” an angered voice said into the echoey hall.

not believing what was happening, you turned your body to survey the area and another man came into your view and held his gun higher. “‘tsk tsk’ miss. hand me that gun or else we’re going to have problems.” jay sighed from behind you and you rolled your eyes.

“i’m not putting down shit until you tell me your demands.” you said maybe a little too cockily but it was protocol.

voight had told the team plenty of times to stall and not give up your gun at first. in hopes that the other’s would show up and it would become a better outcome if you just continued talking to the person who was a threat.

a third one appeared and now you were officially outnumbered but you were still hoping they were dumber than they looked. the one that was pressing a firearm to your partner’s temple spit out, “listen lady. you either put your weapon down or else his brain matter will be just another body that was paved across the walls of this house.”

you tried to calculate in your head quickly if you should take the risk of surrendering. voight said they were eight minutes out. and if you’ve been in the house for almost four minutes now.

that was half the time left until they were going to show but then those few precious minutes would be enough time for literally anything.

sometimes you hated being a part of the police force. how could you ever know the correct answer and outcome within a split second of your life? could anybody be capable of that? whatever choice you decided to take would be the outcome.

you knew you wouldn’t be able to live without jay as your partner and in your life. and his blood would be on your hands if you didn’t surrender now. a shaky breath fell past your lips when you clicked the safety back on and handed it to one of them.

of course they used your gun against you and headbutted you with it. little black spots were in your vision before it completely knocked you out. you just hoped the intelligence team would be able to find you and jay.

it would be your fault and you’d feel guilty until your last breath if they didn’t.

you weren’t sure how much time had passed but a hard slap against your cheek woke you up. a blood trail still continued to trickle down your forehead and you winced at the feeling of an awful beating in your eardrums. “wake up sleeping bitch.”

you tried to speak but instead you coughed at the buildup in your throat. not being able to help yourself, in a snarky tone you replied. “i thought it was sleeping beauty?” that earned you another slap that ensured fingerprints across your cheek but you weren’t feeling any regret about it.

“now shut up and answer my next question.” he inputted before you could interrupt again. you looked at him with a devious grin and he rolled his eyes in annoyance. “what were you looking for in that house?”

when you leaned forward, you realized the reason why you couldn’t move was because your arms were tied behind your back. but nonetheless you leaned forward encroaching in his space enough to feel his breath span out against your red cheek.

“as if i’d tell you.” your defiance had him pushing your head back forcefully so you hit the concrete behind you, feeling as if a baseball bat hit your skull.

he smirked at your uncomfort. “perhaps a little visit with your boyfriend will help you come to understand that i don’t mess around. if you don’t give me an answer—my boys won’t hesitate to put a bullet straight through his head.” your only reply was a silent one.

spitting blood onto his shoes and he cursed before grinning again. “yeah that’s what i thought.” turning his head towards the door, he yelled. “bring the pretty boy in!”

your shoulders immediately dropped when they entered the room. the other two men from earlier were dragging jay into the room and disposed of his body roughly on the ground in front of you. if it weren’t for his chest rising up and down faintly then you would have thought he was dead.

both of his eyes were already swollen and you knew he would have two black eyes for weeks, dried blood dripped down his face and you didn’t even want to look at the rest of his body. despite the fact he was wearing clothes, you knew he had many internal problems that would need only the care a hospital could provide.

“j-jay?” you stuttered at the sight of him.

he kept blacking out and struggled to stay awake. jay had been counting his breaths to make sure he had enough air circulating through his body. cracked ribs were no joke and he could only groan to let his favorite person know that he was still holding on.

“you think beating people is the only answer? violence?” you glanced around the room and glared at the three with a venomous look. they shared similar smiles hearing how hoarse your voice was.

“i hope my team finds you all and you rot!” the two that brought jay in walked away and the one that talked to you a few moments ago stood and looked down at you. saying one more thing before walking out the door and shutting it. “and i hope next time i come in here—you’ll feel more generous and tell me what you were up to. if you don’t then our pretty boy here will die as promised.”

as soon as he left the room, you started rubbing your arms up and down the wall in hopes that the binds around your wrists would break off. “y/n.” jay mumbled. you didn’t even notice he had turned his face and you shushed him. “don’t open your eyes jay. it’ll be okay, i promise.”

he tried again. “y-y/n. i need to t-tell you something.” jay’s lip was busted and bruised. he hissed at the pain. “you don’t need to tell me anything. we’re getting out of here, detective halstead.” you stated with confidence and continued to run your hands up and down despite the sting of your wrists.

jay had a feeling earlier this morning that something bad would happen. his gut had told him something and he wished he hadn’t ignored it. but he can’t always follow everything, especially when they didn’t even have their case yet. but of course after finding out the hard way, this case was bad.

he knew it and it still put you in harm's way but jay had to tell you how he felt just in case it did go the way he was hoping it wouldn’t. “i don’t care if i need to keep my strength right now. listen to me please.” he pleaded and you finally stopped, turning to glance at his face.

jay was squinting and the visual of his state had your stomach churning.

“y/n i haven’t been completely honest with you and i need to tell you this. i’ve wanted to for a while now, but i just couldn’t find the right moment to.” it was getting to the point where you were desperately trying to keep together. and now that he wanted to confess a deep secret that he’s held close to his chest, the whole thing just had you hysterical.

jay frowned when you started laughing. he tried to scoot closer but the pain he felt was significant. it was just one of those situations where it wasn’t an appropriate response but you couldn’t help yourself either.

he noticed the tears falling down your cheeks while watching you quiet down. a reaction like this didn’t surprise your partner so he didn’t blame your outburst in the least. “i’m s-sorry. i’m sorry.” you muttered and tilted your head to both sides.

you looked back over to jay after successfully wiping more than half of the tears on your sleeve. and for a moment he just gazed into your eyes with his blue ones. a look that you couldn’t decipher nor describe appeared across his face but he seemed to snap out of whatever he was thinking.

jay cleared his throat and continued with what he was about to say earlier. “it’s okay y/n. but i need you to know that i don’t blame you in the slightest for what went down in that house. i would have done the same exact thing because i love you.”

it was like time stopped and you couldn’t speak even if you wanted to. after all of that time you spent with jay. him wanting nothing to do with you, then becoming your acquaintance, somewhat of a real friend and he loved you?

“you really love me?” you questioned. not being able to believe what was coming out of his mouth. you wondered if the three men drugged him and he was high or delusional. a grunt came out his mouth at the current aching pain he felt all over his body.

“yes y/n, i love you so much. if i could, i’d be over there right now and giving you a hug. then i’d lean down and give you a kiss that i’ve been wanting to give you for months now.”

that honesty from him had you laughing, “months? me too. i’ve wanted to kiss you for almost the whole year that i’ve known you.” you replied with the same amount of honesty he had given you.

“yeah, y/n. it’s probably going to be a year soon but i meant what i said. i really do love you and i’m sorry we’re in the situation that we’re in now. i wish i could protect you from this.” before you could reply the two of you heard gunshots outside of the room. “shit! i hope that’s them.” you mumbled and jay nodded as best as he could.

the door banged open and hit the wall. you almost peed your pants with how happy you were to see kevin and adam surveying the room. “clear!” kevin announced and then walked over to you and jay. adam spoke into the radio, “5021 ida. we have officers down and need two ambos rolled to our location.”

after kevin ripped the binds from your wrists, you crawled over to jay even though your arms were killing you. another tear fell down your cheek when you got up and close to him. he looked awful but now that the two of you were safe, he could begin to heal soon enough. “jay.” he made a ‘hmm’ sound due to the exhaustion he was feeling.

“i love you too.” you finally said and he smiled. you leaned down to brush your lips against his carefully. “after all of this is done. i’m going to give you a proper one.”

you winked and he grinned and responded while the medics rolled in. “we have plenty of time in the world now.”

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bugrry · 3 years

Text

make him a daddy.

hi loves!! i was talking w some of my mutuals about harry having a breeding kink so i decided to try my hand at writing smut!! i really really hope you guys enjoy it!! please let me know what you think :) also i fuckin hate the title lmao

also, thanks to @strawberryystyles (and her bf) @serendipitystyles and @mindofharry for proof/prereading this ily stinkies to bits <3333

anyway, i hope you enjoy!!

send a request // add yourself to my taglist // here’s my masterlist

warnings: breeding kink, swearing obvi, the words whore and slut a few times, overuse of pet names, cum eating, overstimulation (i think?)

word count: 1,571

“You’re my good little girl aren’t you? You’re gonna look so hot filled with my cum. Even hotter with my baby inside you. God, you’re gonna be such a good mommy, baby girl. Gonna make me a daddy, yeah?”

“Y-you’re already a daddy-- you’re my daddy--” Harry cuts you off with a smearing kiss to your lips, silencing the next words that were going to come out of your mouth.

“I don’t want to hear another noise from you until we’re done, okay baby girl?” He groans, kissing his way up and down the column of your throat as his hands dig into your plush hips. “Gonna be good for me? Take my cock and then all of my cum? Every. Single. Drop?” He punctuates the last three words with bruising thrusts inside of you. Your eyes drift closed and your mouth falls open.

When you don’t answer him, he leaves a smack on your thigh, which makes your eyes snap back open and your mouth slam shut. You look into his eyes to try and figure out what the fuck he wants you to do to answer him.

“I need a yes or a no pretty girl, a nod or a shake of the head will do. I want you to open your pretty whore mouth but if you say a word this all stops right now.” He growls softly, kissing along your jaw as you open your mouth. “Such a good girl for me, open wider, sweet girl,” you comply, “so precious. Can’t wait to fill up your tight fucking cunt.” He grunts, then spits directly into your mouth, getting only some on your lips and cheek.

“You’ll take anything I give you, won’t you, sweet girl?” You nod desperately, going to close your mouth before he grabs your jaw with a bruising grip. “Did I say you could close your mouth? I don’t remember.” His grip is so tight on your skin that you can’t move your head, so he moves your head from side to side, giving him the answer he wants. “Exactly baby girl, I didn’t.” He moves his hands from around your jaw to the inside of your mouth. He presses his fingers on your tongue, pushing them back, almost into your throat, causing you to gag.

“Sweet girl, always proper gagging for it, aren’t you?” He says, moving his fingers out of your mouth and nudging your mouth closed. He brings his wet fingers down to your clit, and begins rubbing tight and rough figure-eight patterns. You let out a yelp and Harry brings his other hand up and slams it against the headboard, gripping it so hard his knuckles turn white. He groans, and moves the hand from the headboard to your mouth, covering it with his massive hand.

“What the fuck did I say? I told you to shut the fuck up. I just called you a good girl, but now I think you’re acting like a fucking brat.” He grunts into your ear, and you whine into his hand, as you know the damage has already been done and there’s no avoiding what he’s about to do to you.

He pulls out of you quickly, making you wince. You try so hard to not make another sound, but then Harry grips your hips again and flips you on your stomach. He lays a hard smack to your ass, and spreads your legs to get a look at you.

“Such a pretty cunt you have, darling. So pretty. By now it could’ve been filled with my cum, but you had to go and be a brat. What do you have to say for yourself?” He says, gripping your hair and forcing your head in a way where you have to look at him.

He watches you open your mouth, ready to say you’re sorry, but then he narrows his eyes and you and you shut your mouth.

“That’s what I thought. I don’t want to hear a pathetic I’m sorry daddy--” he says, mocking you and your accent, “I’ll never do it again daddy, when we both know you will, won’t you?” He says, keeping his tight grip on your hair. He moves your head once again, this time in a nodding motion. “Exactly. Because I know my sweet little whore better than she knows herself, I think.”

Without warning, he slams himself back inside you, quickly resuming his bruising pace. You barely catch yourself from letting out a scream of a moan. Once Harry lets go of your hair and resumes his almost petting motions, you turn your head and bury it into the pillow below you. In order to not groan out loud when he brings his fingers back down to your clit, you scrunch your eyes closed as hard as they could go and hope nothing would slip out.

“I’m so close, my sweet little girl. I’m gonna cum in this beautiful fucking pussy and you’re going to take it.” He grunts, giving you a particularly hard thrust. “Because that’s what you’re made for, isn’t it, angel? You’re made to take my cock and my cum, even my fucking spit. You’ll take anything I give you and you’ll fucking like it.”

You finally allow yourself to let out a scream, and Harry is too focused on how your pussy is swallowing and gripping his cock to even care at this point, so he grabs your shoulders and pulls your back against his chest.

“You’ve been taking my cock so well baby girl. Let me hear how good I make you feel. Let me hear how much you love my cock and my cum and my spit. Tell me, or you don’t get to cum.”

You begin to stumble over words as you try your best to keep your grasp on reality.

“I-I love it daddy! I love your cock! I love it so much, it-it’s so big and it stretches my tiny little pussy out so much! Daddy I love taking what you give me--I love being your good girl--please!”

“My good girl. My good. Fucking. Girl,” He says, once again punctuating his words with particularly hard thrusts, “Now, beg me to cum or I’ll fill you up with my seed and leave you here.” He whispers directly into your ear, bringing one hand up to play with your sensitive nipples, causing you to arch your back.

Your eyes widen at the threat. “No daddy--please let me cum, please please please-- I’m sorry I was a brat I’ll be such a good girl from now on-- I promise I’ll follow all your rules and listen to everything you say-- just please let me cum.”

“Okay sweet girl, let go for me, yeah? Clench around my cock and let go for me.” He brings his hand back down to your clit, rubbing at it once again. Nearly the second his command left his mouth, your whole body tenses, your walls clench around him, causing him to groan loudly in your ear, and you feel your orgasm rip through you. Your vision goes white for a few seconds and you feel Harry’s grip on your waist tighten so that you wouldn’t fall. He lowers your body down onto the mattress, continuing to piston in and out of your tired pussy until you feel him release inside you.

For a while it feels like he’ll never stop cumming, but eventually his thrusts slow down, and he presses a kiss to your shoulder as he pulls out slowly. You wince tiredly, and Harry whispers apologies and he presses soft kisses up and down your back.

Once he’s all the way out, he gently flips you on your back and brings his middle and fingers up to your sensitive pussy. You go to move away from him, whimpering about how it hurts, but he pulls you back.

“We gotta make sure none comes out, right babydoll? We want as much as we can get to stay in there, yeah baby?�� He pushes his fingers into you, pushing his cum farther inside you, and you whimper and whine at his movements, but you don’t push him away. When he eventually pulls his fingers out of you, you look down at his form to see him already staring at you, pushing one of his fingers into his mouth. He sucks the combination of his and your cum off his finger, and begins to move up your body. He taps his other cum-covered finger on your lips, and you obediently open your mouth and invite it in. You suck on his finger like your life depends on it, and Harry can’t seem to break his eyes away from where your lips surround his finger.

“Such a good fucking girl for me, baby. Always so fucking good. Always doing whatever daddy asks, aren’t you?”

You smile up at him as he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, “Almost always, daddy.”

“Alright, you brat. Let’s get you to the bathroom and then in the tub so we can cuddle, okay?” He says, a soft smile on his face as he traces his fingers along your jaw.

“Of course daddy, but I think you’ll have to carry me. My legs feel like jelly.”

He chuckles at this, scooping his arms around your body as he makes his way to the bathroom. “I think I can handle that, sweet girl.”

...

i hope you guys enjoyed it, i’m proud of it :))

taglist for harry fics: @ji5hine @sarcasticallywitty15 @iwanttobekilledtwice @harrysdimple05 @tpwkhes @summerstylesx @strawberryystyles

#harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles #one direction fanfic #1D fanfic #harry x reader #harry smut #my writing #dunkirk

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denkamis · 3 years

Text

into the fire. (dabi x reader)

masterlist.

warnings: this oneshot contains spoilers for the manga & swearing. it also describes burns & wounds in detail.

summary: you tend to dabi’s wounds after a small altercation with some pro-heroes. (takes place sometime after ch 290).

notes: fluffy dabi content written for a friend per her request <3 if u couldn’t tell, i have no fucking clue how to write him so pls bear with me. i’ve written like headcanons for him a bit so— either way, hope u like my first oneshot posted here :,))

word count: 1.4k

Information spread like wildfire. As soon as Dabi unveiled himself as the son of Endeavour, there was no turning back for him. The whole world knew, and that further skewed their once unshaken perspective of pro-heroes. Everything was crumbling before your very eyes. The society of heroes that was previously trusted was now brought to its knees by a simple revelation. They were not who they seemed to be.

You had known his secret for a little over six months now. When he had told you, he vowed he would make Endeavour suffer for the pain he had brought him all those years ago. No matter what it took. You had been no stranger to Dabi’s rants about his father at this point, and now that the date was finally here, he had been true to his word. It was time for karma to hit that poor son of a bitch back. And so it did.

Dabi had told you to wait at your usual rendezvous point: an abandoned apartment just on the outskirts of the city where the two of you would be hiding out until further notice. You were never a villain. You had never been interested in killing people, or bringing the hero civilization down to shambles. All you knew is that you loved the man that came home to you every few months. You knew it was wrong, you knew that there were probably other men you were better off with. Even so, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he cared about you more than he let on. There was something about him you couldn’t quite place. You supposed that’s what made life with him so exciting. The thrill of it all was exhilarating, maybe even addicting.

You were in the middle of plating dinner. You had made spicy udon, two bowls, with what little groceries you had in the rundown apartment. It wasn’t glamorous in the slightest. It was a temporary home that you two would stay at. You knew that you two would have to move in the morning to avoid detection anyways.

You sat down at the table, fingers tapping against the thin, cheap wood restlessly. The worry you felt was undeniable. Had the authorities tracked him? Would he even come back? Was he alive?

No. This was Dabi. He wouldn’t die so easily.

Putting your hands together, you said your grace before your shaky hands moved to pick up your chopsticks. Before you could touch them, there was a light thud that came from the singular bedroom that the apartment hosted. Cautiously, you stood from your seat. Your throat felt dry as your body seemed to move on its own, your legs guiding you to the door slowly as to not let the potential burglar know you were on to them. You braced yourself, your hand on the rusted knob of the door before you swung it open.

A gasp escaped you at the unsightly man before you. The smell of ash and burnt flesh made you keen, and the now white hair colour he dawned stood out against the darkness of his charred skin. Tears welled in your eyes. He faced away from you, shirt and coat discarded. Staples hung off the skin of his back, receding down further. He must have been in so much pain from the overuse of his quirk. He never seemed to listen to you when it came to protecting his body.

Dabi turned his head at the sound of the door, his eyes bored and emotionless. Your shock and horror must have been evident. You’ve seen him come home to you with scratches and bruises before, but nothing to this scale. He looked like he was falling apart at the seams.

“Dabi,” you began, your tone saddened and dripping with concern for the taller man.

“Don’t pity me. Quit looking at me like a kicked puppy, Y/N. Doesn’t look good on that pretty face of yours.”

You swallowed, reaching into your travel bag on the bed and pulling out several bottles of ointment. They were specifically for burn care, mixed with aloe vera and pain reliever. It was your own personal concoction, one suited for Dabi’s needs that you could procure no matter where the two of you were if need be.

He clicked his tongue in annoyance, rolling his eyes. It seemed that every time you pulled out the bottle, he retaliated and complained. You shook your head. “No, you need it this time. Seriously, now show me where,” you demanded of him bluntly. You weren’t taking no for an answer. With a scoff, Dabi broke his gaze from you. “Don’t fight me on this,” you urged him, sliding onto the creaky mattress and already beginning to apply the lotion onto your hands.

“Doll… You don’t have to do this shit for me,” Dabi said lowly, head turned so that he could watch you. You were gentle, always so painfully gentle, with him. Part of Dabi, actually all of himself, believed he didn’t deserve you. Him, and all of his broken parts, his disgusting past, his current, unforgivable actions. Yet here you were, patching him up without a second thought. His gaze, though unreadable to the onlooker, held a feeling deeper than what he let on.

Your hands massaged his skin and he let out a groan. His limbs ached and his bones felt like shattering, but he always made sure to come back home to you.

“You’re not leaving are you, doll?” he asked you suddenly.

“Hm?”

Your eyes met his turquoise ones. His face was burned nearly as badly as the rest of him, his staples appeared to be drooping dangerously. He stared at you, examining your features and committing them to memory. Dabi knew that nothing was ever permanent in this world, certainly not you. He dragged you into this. He had let you follow him along when there was no clear way out of this shithole.

Dabi bowed his head, white tufts of hair falling over his eyes. A cocky smile played on his lips, “You’re not like them, huh? Not gonna leave me for some dickhead that wipes their asshole with money?”

You snickered at the thought as your palms continued to rub away into his back, tracing the burns and wounds that refused to heal. Fingertips grazing the toned muscles, you hummed in thought. There were a lot of reasons you stayed, some reasons less logical than others, but you digress. As you ran your hands up his back, retracing your steps and mapping out his scarred skin, you rested your hands upon his shoulders, feeling how unnaturally tense they were. The feeling of soft lips meeting rough skin made Dabi sigh once more. He relaxed ever so slightly, skin surging from a new warmth you had brought him. You gave him comfort unlike anything else he had ever felt. You were home to him. He never cared for anyone, until you came waltzing into his life.

He was cautious, of course. You were a capable woman who could kill him at any moment (not that you wanted to, but Dabi had precautions). You were unlike anyone he had ever met. You were absolutely captivating, unbelievably kind, and yes, incredibly gullible, but you trusted him to come back to you. He felt like he owed you that much for you giving so much of yourself to him. For giving up so much of your small, insignificant life that you couldn’t get back, to him.

A strong hand fell onto your waist, lifting you up from your position beside him to one where your knees were situated at either side of his hips. You now straddled his torso, his hands gripping at your sides possessively. He looked up at you, grinning wolfishly. Heat rushed to your cheeks, your body now feeling like it was on fire from where he touched you.

“Answer me, baby. Tell me how much you love me,” he teased you, face so close to you that your noses brushed against each other. Heart beating rapidly in your chest, your hands held his face as if he were made of some type of china.

A smile crept across your face timidly, thumb rubbing over past scars being covered with new ones. You leaned down, lips ghosting his as you spoke.

“I could only have eyes for you, Dabi. No matter how many weeks you leave, I’ll be here when you get back. Always.”

His chapped, broken lips met your plump ones, passion and some sort of feeling resembling love radiating from the affectionate act you shared.

“I love you.”

Dabi laughed at your words, smiling up at the ceiling before his gaze lazily met yours. You managed to breathe such life into him without meaning to. Fuck. He was in deeper than he realized.

“Good. You fucking should.”

all works © denkamis 2021.

tags:

@meilbox

want to be on the taglist? see this post!

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha oneshot #bnha oneshots #dabi x reader #dabi x y/n #dabi #dabi fluff #dabi comfort #touya todoroki #denkamis.oneshots

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yoditorian · 3 years

Text

lacuna- part 1

din/reader

she’s here!!!!! she’s here!!!!! i decided to split it up into parts to give me more time to write and put u all (ellie) out of your misery. thank you for being patient, and thank you to everyone who was so kind about the teaser!!

set waaaaaay before the series, this is Target Practice Din

MASTERLIST

word count: just shy of 2.5k

warnings: some swears bc it’s me, overuse of italics, probably some spelling mistakes, non graphic smut but it is Highly Implied, so for that reason 18+ only pls no babies.

“Have you ever removed your helmet?”

“No.” He grits out.

“Has it ever been removed by others?”

“Never.”

He’s lying.

___________________

You practically fly down from the cockpit the second you touch down, shoving Ran between the shoulder blades. He stumbles down the last few feet of the ramp, and skids across the ground on his ass. In any other situation, you might have laughed. But in any other situation, you probably wouldn’t have pushed him.

“What the fuck was that?”

He only sputters out a half baked excuse about the mission, it’s enough to have you drawing your blaster. Only it's not in the holster you keep strapped to your thigh.

Your gaze is cold as ice as you turn to see your gun dangling from Mando’s index finger. He stands above you on the ramp, apparently unaffected by your outrage even though Ran’s actions could have ended very differently for all four of you. Xi’an laughs haughtily from a crate inside the ship, she’s lucky you’re unarmed.

“He almost got us killed.” You reason, not even sparing a glance at the man still cowering from you on the floor. Mando shrugs. Like it's nothing.

“And yet, we made it.” He says, dropping the blaster back into your holster as he descends the ramp.

You’re all only alive because you were quick enough on your feet to take over, because you were on the guns, because you made the lightspeed calculations mid-dogfight to get the fuck out of there. Something everyone else seems to have conveniently not noticed. Ran’s on his feet, dusting himself off, Mando has already stalked off into the hangar, and Xi’an’s hot on his heels. You heave an annoyed sigh, adrenaline leaching the energy from your bones, and scuff your boots the rest of the way down the ramp. Ran catches your arm when you pass him, grip just a little too tight to be friendly.

“Empire’s always looking for pilots, I could just put you back where I found you.” He says lowly as you rip your arm from him. It’s not an empty threat. He knows there’s nothing left for you on Corellia besides an arrest warrant and a swift execution. There’ll be bruises in the shape of his fingertips by morning, you can feel them already. It’s not the first time and, if you’re being honest, you know it won’t be the last. The pouch of credits Qin hands you for a job well done makes that particular pill a little easier to choke down, at least.

Your room at Ran’s space station isn’t much, but you’ve done what you can. There’s only a bed and a desk, the matching chair missing long before you moved in, a shelving unit and a viewport. An old blanket, loosely crocheted and full of holes, lies crumpled atop the sheets. It was white once, used to swaddle you as a baby, but that was before the sweat and the ash and the bloodstains. It’s the only thing you’d brought with you when you had to run, wrapped around your shoulders to shield you from the night’s chill at the last minute. You hadn’t even had time to put shoes on. The viewport window is another comfort, barely bigger than the datapad that lies forgotten on your pillow, but you pay the boss dearly for your view. Lights blinking on the ceiling reflect in the scratched glass, and the mismatched floor panels creak under your weight as they always do. It’s home, even if the space station itself feels like the loneliest place in the universe sometimes. With one last glance at the swirling stars as the station slowly turns, you’re practically asleep before your head hits the pillow.

You have to pee.

One look out into the corridor presents you with closed doors and lowered lights. Sleep hours, then. It’s hard to keep track of time when it’s always night outside, although living off-planet isn’t so bad once you get used to it. Rest here comes when you can get it, as opposed to the fancy artificial sunrise/sunset lighting cycles you’ve heard about on inner rim stations. It doesn’t sound like anyone’s awake to judge you for shuffling to the bathroom in your socks anyway.

The light is too bright in comparison to the dim hall, and you almost jump back from your reflection in the small mirror. Bloodshot eyes, rumpled shirt, you really should have done something with your hair before you passed out. You’re sure you’ve never looked more exhausted. Sleep hasn’t come easy in the few years you’ve spent on the station, dreams plagued by flashes of the reason you came here in the first place. Running, choking on the smoke in your lungs, an old friend’s blood splattering across your cheek. The only rest you really get is when you work yourself down to the bone, until you can’t keep your eyes open anymore, but you know you’re not the only one.

The door across from yours is open when you go back to your room, Mando standing in the frame, backlit by a lamp like he’s the hero from one of those propaganda movies you snuck into as a kid. You pause in your own doorway, it’s probably a bad idea to call him out on it. It’d probably only start an argument and then you’d have to deal with the only person you could count on to watch your six being mad at you.

“You should have backed me up earlier.” Your mouth takes the decision away from you. He waits for a moment, silently, like he’s expecting you to say more. But you leave it there.

“I did.”

You’re turning to shut the door when he finally answers, and it takes everything in you not to shout at him in the middle of the hall.

“If that’s what backing someone up looks like to Mandalorians, then I think I’d rather you didn’t at all.” You hiss, exhaustion feeding into your anger. It’s not the way you should be speaking to him, or anyone, but you’re just too tired to care.

Mando’s spine goes rigid and you almost regret the dig, not that you have time to think about it before he’s walking right towards you and backing you into the darkness of your room. You can just about see the ceiling panel lights blink in the reflection of his visor. It’s only as he moves that you spot the bag slung over his shoulder.

“Where are you going?” You ask, barely a whisper. You’ve never been this close to him before, chest to chest, alone. The warmth you can feel even from under the armour threatens to make your head spin.

“Home.” He leaves it at that. Never one to use more words than he needs to. You didn’t even know he had a home to go back to. There’s a lot you don’t know about the man in front of you, but he’s loyal to the bone. That much is plain to see.

“Don’t you ever think about going home?”

“My home is here.” Your answer is final, although you can feel the raised eyebrow through his helmet. You’re no more attached to the space station than you are any of the planets you’ve yet to visit. It’s not home, nowhere is. But you’ve been here since you were sixteen, years before the rest of your team, it’s as close as you’ll get to belonging somewhere. Mando doesn’t respond, doesn’t ask any questions, only stands with you for a long moment. Breathing. He’s good like that. You’ve never felt the pressure to fill any silence with him, he seems to exist so comfortably in it. It’s easier that way, probably for you both. You don’t know much about Mandalorians, the only stories you’ve heard are the ones Qin told you drunk in a seedy cantina when Mando first joined. Horror stories. If his past is anything similar to yours, he’s grateful for the absence of questions too.

“So it’s goodbye, then?” You’re yet to break his stare.

“Yes.”

Is he closer, somehow?

“Would you have said goodbye if I wasn’t already awake?”

He’s definitely closer.

Mando reaches behind him to tap the control panel on the wall, sliding the door shut and leaving you in the darkness. He lets his bag slip off his shoulder, lowering it to the floor suspiciously silently for one you know is crammed with weaponry, and walks you further into the room. You can’t really see much at all, only the steady blinking of the little red lights in the ceiling.

“You trust me?” It’s so quiet, you wonder if you imagined the words.

He’s never given you a reason not to.

“Keep your eyes closed?”

“I promise.”

It takes a moment before he lifts the lip of the helmet high enough, and another long few seconds of just being without barriers for him to kiss you. And kiss you he does.

The breath you get in before your lips touch is all him, turning your insides to liquid gold. Everywhere he touches you sets a fire. For a man so rough, he is so careful, he handles you as though you’ll break at the slightest breeze. As though he is wholly undeserving of such sweetness. Part of you thinks he’s convinced he is. It’s a first and a last kiss, a hello and a goodbye kiss, the way he tries to suffocate himself in you is evidence enough that you won’t be here again. You won’t get to have him like this again. He stays close when you finally break apart, taking his helmet off completely and placing it down on your desk with a decisive thunk.

“Mando-”

“Din. My name is Din.” He shouldn’t tell you. He shouldn’t have taken his helmet off, he shouldn’t have even thought about it. Although his fear of losing everything he has is almost overwhelming, it’s nothing compared to this. The fear that you would never know him as he is, as he has always been. The relief that brings tears to his eyes when you don’t shy away, when you lean into him. Like you want him too. You shouldn’t hold his creed in your hands but he gives it willingly. Of course he does. He’s never really been able to deny you anything.

“Din.”

The smile is so clear in your voice as you whisper it back to him. The way you say his name sounds like a song. A prayer. Hushed and reverent like it’s something sacred, something holy. He knows it’s safe on your tongue. Din lays you back on the bed, gently, wool of the ratty blanket soft against your skin.

Din. He’s nothing but gentle with you. Hands barely there as they pull layers of clothing from the both of you, stripping himself of his armour, of The Mandalorian. Until there’s just him. Just a man, no more and no less than anybody else. A man who wishes he hadn’t been so stubborn and dismissive of his own desires; wishes he’d given in to this, to you, sooner. His mouth doesn’t leave your skin for a second, like he could digest you one kiss at a time if he tried hard enough. Part of him doesn’t want to leave, he wants to stay in this bed with you in the dark and just exist. Your body in his hands and your moans in his mouth and absolutely nothing else. He needs you in between his teeth, on his tongue. He’s never needed anything else quite so badly.

The emotion isn’t lost on you, it’s the first and last time you’ll ever be with him. He’ll go after this, you don’t pretend otherwise. You won’t get to have him, in any way you want to, after this. So you lose yourself in him, in everything he gives and takes on those threadbare blankets in your room. The taste of him gets committed to memory and you swear you’ll never eat again if it means his sweat stays on your tongue. You dig your nails hard into his shoulders, you hope he’ll look at them before they fade. Hope he’ll see the marks you gave him and know that he is wanted. He is so desperately wanted and he has no idea. You kiss him with reckless abandon, cards on the table in all but words. So he can know, so he can come back. If that’s what he wants.

You stay tangled with him for a long time. Spit cooled and sweat dried. You’ve never stayed this long with anybody, but you’re not speeding to the ‘fresher. You want to drench yourself in everything he is until you never feel without him again.

“Take the Razor Crest. She’s old but virtually untraceable, and faster than anything else in that hangar. I think you can handle her.” You laugh lightly, tracing a finger over the ridge of his wrist where his arm is curled tight around your chest. Din wishes he could drown in the sound.

He takes your advice, once you’re asleep. Once he’s convinced himself to pull away from your warmth and go back to the life he knows. The one without you. The Razor Crest looms over him in the empty hangar, but something about its presence is comforting when he knows you were the one to put her together.

“He took the fucking Crest!”

The shout from the corridor jolts you awake, significantly warmer than you should be, and you find your old shirt and sweatpants pulled back on your body. Din. The thought of him so carefully redressing you, touch gentle enough not to wake you, makes your heart swell. It shouldn’t, but you can’t help it. With a heavy sigh, you flick the lights on from the panel by your bed and pull yourself to your feet. The door slides open with a wave of your hand by the door panel and you’re met with a very angry, very red-faced, Ran.

“You wouldn’t know anything about this would you, sweetheart?” He grounds out, eyes zeroing in on the mark you know Din sucked into your shoulder only hours ago. You pull the neckline of your top back up to where it should be and shake your head tiredly. Even if you hadn’t been thoroughly rammed into your mattress the night before, it’s far too early for anyone to be shouting up a storm. The rest of the crew come filtering out, rubbing eyes and calling out accusations at each other. It’s enough to give you a headache.

Maybe a space station in the middle of nowhere isn’t a forever home after all. Maybe there’s somewhere else out there for you. Maybe it just took somebody else taking the leap to make up your mind.

You don’t know where you’ll end up, but you have a pretty good idea of where to start.

_________________

TAGLIST (people who showed interest pls lmk if u want to be removed)

@remmysbounty @aq-vetina @brothersdrxke

#everybody pray my tags work or i think i will actually cry #lacuna #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #star wars #fic #liz does words #smut

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keilemlucent · 4 years

Text

lavender latte: ii

(T (for now!))

hawks | takami keigo x reader

chapter 1 || chapter 3 || chapter 4

ao3

word count: ~3k

You and Hawks’s second meeting.

warnings: mutual pining, shy reader-ish, ooc hawks, the fun stuff, fluff ; )

|||||||||||||

You didn’t hear anything from Hawks for the next few days.

It was a fleeting disappointment, but you took his lack of contact as truth and reality. Some big shot, pro-hero wasn’t going to waste time texting a no-name, nobody barista, no matter how mutually flirty of an interaction was shared.

Prior to actually meeting Hawks, you had seen the tabloids that his name spilled over. Shady stories of midnight rendezvous with models and celebrities, sultry pictures of his own on magazines at grocery store checkouts were a lot of your knowledge of him. He was a very eligible and active bachelor, everyone knew it.

You reminded yourself that you didn’t mean shit to him, and moved on.

Until about a week from your first meeting, late into the evening, your phone buzzed.

You thought it was one of the team from the teashop, asking another question about a new blend you had made.

Your eyes widened at the text that you did see:

[unknown number]: hey angel ;) do you work tomorrow? it’s supposed to be a cold one and i’d love to try another one of your drinks

You stared at your phone screen for a moment, mouth going dry before typing out a reply.

[you]: is this hawks?

The next reply came only seconds later.

[unknown number]: the one and only ;))))

He... actually texted me?

Holy shit.

Another message came in.

[unknown number]: don’t tell me you go handing out your number to folks at work all the time :^( you’re gonna hurt my :^((( feelings :^((((

You deadpanned at Hawks’s texts.

You couldn’t believe the number two, pro hero texted like a normal twenty-some year old.

It was endearing, if not at the very least comforting.

[you]: nah, just you tailfeathers 😉

[you]: i work tomorrow morning, opening shift. 6 am. think you can handle it???

You giggled at your own texts, unable to hold back when you saw Hawks continuing to type. You quickly typed in a contact name.

[tailfeathers]: E

[tailfeathers]: Z

[tailfeathers]: i’ll be there bright and early ;)

Part of you, the rational, realistic part, doubted that. Sure, Hawks had texted you, but he wouldn’t actually show, right? He was a busy, busy man. He’d probably get sidetracked.

Don’t get your hopes up.

You tried to remain practical.

But, you also liked pushing your luck.

[you]: see u then!!

[you]: btw your contact name is ‘tailfeathers’

[you]: ;)

[tailfeathers]: what if i told you yours is ‘barista angel’

[you]: i’d ask if you saw my name on that conveniently small piece of paper i gave you

[tailfeathers]: i would say yes

[tailfeathers]: but idk angel seems like a more proper title for u

You felt your still and heat rush to your face.

He can’t be flirting with you over text. What the FUCK.

[tailfeathers]: only angels can make coffee as well as u 😇

“What a bastard,” You shook your head, sighing. Part of you was glad he made it more clear your identity was tied to coffee and not affections.

[you]: u flatter me

[tailfeathers]: i only speak the truth ;)

You bit your lip as you typed out the next reply, well aware that the evening sky had darkened and you needed an adequate amount of sleep to actually make it to that morning shift.

[you]: i’m about to knock out so i can actually be alive for my shift, but i’ll see you tomorrow bird boy

Hawks’s replied quickly as seemed to be a trend with him.

[tailfeathers]: bird boy!!!!!

[tailfeathers]: i’m moving up in the world

[tailfeathers]: see u then angel

As you got ready for bed, going about your mundane routine and preparing the coming day, you had no idea that Keigo was across the city, cradling his phone to his chest with a wobbling smile on his face, a foreign sensation filling his chest.

He was very excited to see you again, even if it took a few days to get that far.

|||||||||||||||||||

The next day was indeed, terribly cold. Despite bundling up in a thick, woolen coat and a knit scarf, you nearly froze on the way to work. Despite the chill, the rest of the morning crew made it in just a few minutes after you.

“I’ll be in back until there’s a rush, alright?” You called to the three openers, all silly college students from the local university. They were all sort of dense, but they were loveable.

“Okay!” One smiled as they flitted to the front counter and seating area.

The back of the teashop was a smaller commercial kitchen, all steel tables and cooking implements. Lots of tools to actually do your job. Though you were the maker of the tea blends for the shop, a lot of your work consisted of packaging and fulfilling orders as well as design work for the teashop’s online presence. Truthfully, you were more of a jack-of-all-trades type of worker, but nearly all of it confined you to the safety of the back kitchen. The lack of stimuli made it easier to work effectively, quirk activated or otherwise.

You tied your apron tight around your waist, adjusting a few of your buttons and smoothing yourself down. The back remained frigid in the mornings, and you could only be glad you were layered up for the day. You pulled out your company-issued tablet and began tapping away with the stylus as the shop prepped to open.

You were too absorbed in your work to hear the bell at the entrance, just minutes after unlocking the door.

Keigo? Elated. His last week of hero work had been all long hours and late nights. His wings had grown sparse with overuse, barely carrying him properly through the skies. When he saw that his office day at his agency was due to be particularly cold, he knew it was the perfect excuse to give you a visit.

You hadn’t been constantly on his mind. Rather, you perked up in his thoughts semi-reliably, but briefly a few times a day. Most affections were forgettable, he didn’t have time for anything other than whorish trysts with other heroes and those of higher society who knew how to keep their mouths (somewhat) shut.

Part of him, the part that the Commission’s ruthless training created, hated the way how you were sticking with him.

Another part of him, the kinder, softer, very repressed one, recognized his feelings and hid them safely. Vulnerable things required heavy protection.

When Keigo reached the teashop, early as dawn crept over the urbanscape, he pushed the door open and was greeted by the rolling smell of roasted coffee beans and black tea.

Only a few other patrons were there, eyes wide as the top ten hero gave them a trademark wave, waltzing to the counter with his signature swagger.

The workers (none of them being you) gawked at him, jaws half to the floor.

“Hawks?!” One of them exclaimed. “Oh my god, can I get an autograph?!”

(Keigo carried a few pens on him for occasions like this.)

The worker, a young thing with a shock of short blue hair, wrestled under the counter for a notebook. Another of the workers also attempted to wrangle a bit of receipt paper from the fussy machine, flashing him a nervous smile.

“Of course, autographs are a given,” He winked at the two of them, sauntering up to the counter. “On one condition, though. Could you tell me if (Y/N) is working?”

The morning shifts workers proceeded to gawk more.

You sat deep in concentration, thoroughly organizing yourself for the day with lists and plans. You were only startled from your work when one of the other baristas popped her head back, eyes wide.

“Uh, (Y/N), I know you’re busy, but Hawks is here for you?” She stammered, saying his name incredulously and pointing a shaking finger out at the counter.

You could hear his silky laugh just beyond the precipice.

Your mouth quirked up in surprise.

I didn’t expect him to actually come.

It was a pleasant surprise though, one that made your heart stutter in your chest.

You put down the tablet, making your way to the front of the shop.

Hawks leaned down on the front counter, signing various papers and items that the staff and patrons of the tea shop had given him. His smooth voice echoed beautifully around the shop, mixing with the din of the soft music that provided ambient sound.

Thoroughly absorbed in his fan interaction, you leaned against the door frame, watching him as he had yet to notice you.

(You tried to look nonchalant, but it was probably a bit of ogling.)

Hawks’s scarlet wings appeared sparse, but still twitched and fluffed every few moments. He was dressed in his hero uniform, visor pushed up into the feathery, front bits of his hair. With all of his typical regalia on, he seemed out of place in the slow din of the coffee shop. He seemed to shine so brightly, making himself a focal point without even trying.

Without the protection of his visor, Hawks’ honeyed eyes seemed brighter, luminous from the inside out. Even from your distance, you could watch their topazine shine dance in the soft lighting.

His gaze drifted to you and positively lit up.

(You didn’t think that was possible.)

Your stomach fluttered.

“Well, if it isn’t (Y/N)!” Hawks beamed you a smile that could’ve put the sun to shame. It made something deep in your chest thrum. “For a minute there, I thought you’d pulled my leg about working today.”

“Oh, never, ” You grinned, moving directly in front of him at the counter, your shocked coworkers parting for you. “I tend to work in the back if the rest of our lovely staff is present.

You gestured to your very starstruck coworkers who all gave various gawking looks before falling away, shyness obviously overtaking them.

It wasn’t like you weren’t feeling similarly, but your nervousness was better hidden. Facades were, in fact, a trained skill in maintaining and god, if you weren’t a master.

But, Keigo had his own mastery in spotting cracks in people’s veneers. And, easily, he saw your tension and nervousness. For anyone with less trained interpersonal skills, they wouldn’t have noticed a damn thing. But to Keigo? Your anxiety was as clear as the light you added to a room. A few of his feathers twitched, picking up on the rapid beating of your heart across from him.

“What can I get you?” You asked, speaking through any of your fears, cracking him a genuine smile.

Keigo returned it without thought, chest warming.

“Mmm... Surprise me. Something to help me get my day started.” Keigo loved the way your eyes lit up when he talked, a little bit of knowingness between the two of you sparking.

“Same specifications as before? Hot and sweet?” You asked, already grabbing a cup, flashing him a cheeky grin.

Hawks raised an eyebrow, batting his eyelashes at you in a way that you couldn’t not laugh. He rested his elbows on the counter and leaned over the top of it, regarding you with half-lidded eyes, “You remember my preferences? I feel honored.”

“You should,” You winked. If he was going to shamelessly flirt, you would right back.

Truthfully, your personal attention made Keigo swoon like a goddamn schoolgirl. He could feel sweat growing on his palms, making the leather of his gloves stick. Normally, the sensation would’ve ticked his more anxiety-ridden tendencies into overdrive, but he could hardly focus on them. He was too busy watching you flit around behind the counter.

“So,” You began, activating your quirk and beginning your process. “Why so few feathers? Get roughed up?”

Keigo chuckled, flexing what feathers he did have left for emphasis, “Basically. I have to give them a few days to regrow. A couple nasty days in a row means a couple days recovery.”

You hummed, turning to the espresso machine. Before pouring the shot, you gave him a little smile with the cutest quirk in your lips, “I’m sure you more than deserve the rest.”

Oh, that made his proverbial dick swell.

Someone, a very nice, stranger barista, angel, telling him he deserved something kind? And, there wasn’t an edge of dishonesty in you. If anything, there was an earnestness in your quirk-blackened eyes that made Keigo nearly scared of the amount of vulnerability you gave him so freely.

He wondered if you showed that to all of your patrons.

(You didn’t.)

You turned behind the counter, quirk activated and swirling. The familiar blending of your senses made your teeth ache and head burn with the overabundance of stimuli, but you worked through it. You reached through the external sensations to manifest your idea and feeling into a conceivable reality.

You dumped any number of syrups and shots into the cup, placing it (and a lid) on the counter in front of Hawks. Warm smells of cardamom and cinnamon tickled both of your noses as you nodded down, “Let that cool for a sec, then give it a taste. I need a comprehensive review.”

Hawks plucked off one of his gloves, taking the steaming cup in his hand, looking down at the foam. His gaze flickered around the two of you, noting that the few civilians and coworkers once surrounding him had left you two with a small bit of privacy.

“What’s the inspiration for this one?” Hawks gave you a downright sweet, knowing look.

“Take a sip and guess,” You nodded down to the cup again, idly going to wipe down the counters with a rag slung in your apron.

Hawks blew on steaming liquid, throwing back his head to take a decently sized sip. You had to tear your gaze from the bob of his throat.

Keep it in your pants.

While you were suppressing being horny for the number two hero, Keigo was suppressing being horny for a fucking beverage.

The flavor hit his tongue and throat and danced. It was warm, like the last one, spilling hearth-like heat into his chest and extremities. But, this drink tasted literally spiced, like it had some sort of pepper in it (according to Keigo’s untrained, pitiful palette). His wings ruffled, feathers rustling and twitching with the taste of the drink. Despite the heat flooding his body, the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck rose as waves of subtle pleasure rolled through Keigo’s body.

He placed the cup back on the counter, staring you down with incredulity.

You, cutely cheeky as ever, just smiled and crossed your arms over your chest, “Are you a fan?”

“It’s... spicy. How. Why. Is this even coffee?” Hawks asked. Despite his questioning, he took another sip, shuddering at the comforting heat it gave him.

“There’s coffee in it, or, espresso,” You couldn’t help feeling a bit smitten with the way Hawks looked at you. Disbelief wasn’t an expression you saw many heroes wear, especially not one with a reputation like Hawks’s. Yet, there he was, in front of you, staring at his cup like you just served him battery acid and grass.

“If that’s the case, gimme the rundown, angel,” Hawks peeled off his other glove, setting the pair on the counter. He surprised you as he shrugged off his lined jacket, plopping down in a nearby stool.

You hadn’t ever really seen this much of Hawks, not in his hero uniform anyways. Plenty of him was available for viewing due to his various modeling ventures, but seeing him in the flesh was far better. The black shirt of his hero costume stretched over the lean, sculpted muscles of his arms. He certainly wasn’t built in the same way other top heroes were, but from what you could see (read: drool over), Hawks certainly wasn’t lacking—

“See something you like?” Hawks raised an eyebrow while taking another sip, devilish curl to his lips.

You really wished you had the bodily control to stop the red flush that grew on your face.

“SO —!” You laughed, diverting back to the drink at hand. “The drink.”

“Wonderful deflection,” Hawks set the cup down, still smirking. “So, the drink .”

Your fingers tapped at the countertop, living your blush down with a lack of eye contact.

He gets stared at all the time, chill out.

Dude probably likes it, (Y/N).

“The drink is a dirty chai, with some editions, of course.” You jerked your head back to the wall of tea blends, the familiar ebbing away from of your embarrassment. “We have a couple of different chai blends that I make in house. Several different chai concentrates too.”

“Forgive me, but a dirty chai?” Hawks teased.

“Wow, weak jab there, Hawks, ” You rolled your eyes. Hawks just continued to beam at you, swinging his legs behind the counter. “I gave you an oatmilk, ginger chai with three shots of espresso and a few other secret touches. I wanted to make it warm again for you.”

Keigo paused at your admission, (not-so) secretly reveling in your poorly contained embarrassment. Perhaps it was a bit cruel, but his job did carry some wonderful perks and he’d be damned to not enjoy them.

“It feels like a different kind of warm, compared to last time,” Keigo took another taste to confirm. The spiced liquid flooded his palette again, skin pleasantly prickling at the taste.

You hummed, refusing to fully make eye contact with Hawks.

Truthfully, you spent an embarrassing amount of time since the night prior thinking about potential sensations to emulate for Hawks. You were never sure of what type of vibe he would request, but having an arsenal of ideas made you feel more prepared to impress your new clientele.

“I made it feel like dawn,” You replied, nodding to out of the fully-windowed front of the tea shop. The district you were located in was lit up by the golds and pinks of the early morning, stretching and awakening with the new day. “I wanted it to feel like how morning sun feels on your bare skin. All like... tingly, you know? Like... seeing someone you haven't seen in a long time. ”

Keigo immediately noticed your bashfulness after you gave your description. In the same way as last time, the vulnerability of your manifested feelings left you warm and shy for him.

You picked at a loose string on your apron, gaze directed down and away. With his obscured view of your face, he could see the way you softly bit your lip, eyes occasionally raking him up and down and that retreating. Keigo could feel your pounding heart and slow, deep breaths.

...

Keigo was whipped and he hardly knew you. He was so fucked.

You were too fucking cute. It was fucking illegal. It had to be.

Keigo had been with sexy. He’d been with unattainable. He’d been with women and men who looked like they were crafted by gods as tempters and devils. It was all pleasure and Keigo knew it like the back of his hand. He got hedonistic bliss when he wanted it and he did so very, very well.

What Keigo was entirely unfamiliar with was the gooey, fluttery feeling in his chest as you finally looked up at him to smile and nod to the drink, “So, what do you think?”

Keigo’s brain fizzled, rendered into goo. If he didn’t have years of interpersonal training, he was sure he wouldn’t have been able to speak with his own revelations. Luckily, he was able to laugh off his internal stickiness, taking another greedy sip.

“Absolutely flawless, wonderful craftsmanship, (Y/N),” Keigo bowed his head dramatically.

You giggled at Keigo’s drama, missing the way how his cheeks lit up for you.

Hawks dug in his pocket, pulling out a huge wad of bills and started to slide it across the counter, “This is a tip. All for you.”

You stared, horrified at the amount of money Hawks passed to you like it was nothing. Without thinking, you placed your hand on top of his, stopping his motion. Both of you stiffened pleasantly at the sudden, small contact.

“That’s too much, Hawks, no,” You shook your head, but Hawks was a stubborn, insistent bastard.

His wings fluffed up behind him, a feather moving quickly between your hands and pushing your up and away.

“What the fuck.” You half-groaned. Hawks fully passed the money across the counter, hiding his hands and feathers in his lap with a Panish smirk stretched across his face.

“Take it, or I tattle on you, easy trade,” Hawks shrugged, leaning his elbows on the counter and drinking deeply. He pulled away from his beverage with a relaxed-looking smile as you remained fluster.

(Holy fuck, you touched Hawks’s bare hand and it was so NICE—)

You could feel the eyes of your coworkers, staring at the money like some Olympic medal. You were well-aware that there was no way Hawks was taking back his money and you knew your coworkers would be too scared to ask for a cut.

You gulped, taking the cash and tucking it into your apron pocket.

“You don’t need to bribe me to make you nice drinks, Hawks, it’s literally my job,” You told him gently.

Hawks raised an eyebrow, shrugging, “Accept it as a little treat on the side. A gift of my appreciation.”

You couldn’t argue with that, so you relented with a smile, shaking your head.

And the two of your dissolved into easy conversation. Hawks told you about the most recent gigs he had been a part of. A modeling contract for a new skincare company and a sponsorship with a few other local heroes for a sports beverage were the most interesting. You were sure he was just humoring you, unable to tell you the nitty-gritty details of his life. Yet, he seemed happy to speak and listen besides. He chattered away, in the way birds do, sing-song, and free-flowing.

Hawks was hardly a bird of prey, you realized. He was much more of a cockatoo type.

You told him more about the tea shop, about your role and job. As you explained about the basics of different types of tea, you could literally see the far off way Hawks looked at you. It wasn’t of distraction, like spacing out, no. It was a look that hadn’t been directed at you in some time. You silently and quickly studied it and came to the nerve-wracking conclusion that the cute blush on his cheeks and half-lidded eyes and relaxed shoulders was fucking captivation, borderline adoration.

For.

You.

How the fuck were you supposed to deal with that?

(Keigo wasn’t sure either.)

Luckily, neither of you planned on doing anything to stop your mutually budding feelings.

#salem writes #lavender latte #hawks x reader #takami keigo x reader #keigo x reader #takami x reader #hawks x y/n #reader insert #my hero academia #mha reader insert #bnha reader insert #takami keigo x y/n #takami keigo #hawks

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catzula · 3 years

Text

How to cure a broken heart

Synopsis: love might come in in various shapes. With Kuroo it came with a snowball.

Honorable mentions: tw cursing, it's 2.4k words, genre is fluff, hope you guys like it!!

Its a short lil fluffy Kuroo blurb since its snowing very heavy here and I kinda broke your hearts with that last angst lol

You never thought you were the type to partake in something so cliche, something as falling in love with your next-door neighbor. It was overused at this point, it wasn't even your favorite trope to read anymore, and you would've died laughing if someone told you you would meet the guy you fell in love with like this.

But overused as it is, it still came in as a surprise, and that was Kuroo Tetsurou for you, managing to make even the most monotonous thing surprising.

It was the morning after a night of heavy snow, hearing the rustle of walking on fresh, unpressed snow beneath your feet making you bite back a smile. It had been a while since it snowed this much where you lived, so you didn't refuse when your mother offered you to take a walk.

I'm sure you'll feel better if you take a breath of fresh air, she told you, taking note of your foul mood.

She was right, it smells like winter, and the familiar smell didn't fail to make you take a breath of relief, as if you were suffocating the past few days.

It had been a while since you even left your house, you realized, even before the quarantine started, you weren't the type to go out and socialize around the block. You usually met with your friends at a cafe around your school or an arcade or something, but it was rare for you to hang out in your neighborhood area, thus ended with you not knowing any of your neighbors.

You had never intended to get to know them either, but it wasn't your choice to make anymore when you noticed a perfect sphere of snowball flying towards you, you dodged it the last second with reflexes you didn't even know you had (you didn't. it was pure luck).

As you turned to where the snowball came from, your eyes locked on a smug, sneaky grin, obviously amused by the shocked expression on your face. It was a boy about your age, leaning proudly on a snowman that was almost as tall as him, his smile more noticeable even than his odd, inky black ruffle of hair or the piercing golden eyes that had something of a clever glint to them.

His grin felt infectious, and you could feel a smile tugging on the corners of your lips, and it was the smile that would never fail to make you smile back, except for that particular day.

It hadn't made you smile, nor had it disputed the mean frown on your lips as you quirked a brow at him, only making his grin spread wider on his lips. "Sorry," he muttered, not sounding the slightest bit apologetic, nor had he stopped smiling teasingly. "Didn't mean to throw it at you."

You took the apology with a soft nod, turning your back to him, and started walking, sighing when you felt a hand tap your arm gently.

"Hey, me again." He grinned, and you mustered a smile. "Hi." You answered back, pressing your lips together awkwardly.

"I'm Kuroo Tetsurou," he informed you. "Your next door neighbor, I think."

"Y/N, L/N." You answered, "nice to meet you, Kuroo-san."

"Nice to meet you, too." He then tilted his head, eyes grazing on you for another while, and he looked like he wanted to talk even more even though the conversation was very obviously over. "That was pretty impressive, you know?" Another smile formed on his lips as he scratched the back of his neck and averted his eyes away from you, and you could feel butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

"Thanks. Your snowman is pretty impressive, too." It was. The guy was almost 2 meters, and it made no sense for the snowman to be as tall as him, too, but it still was pretty impressive.

Not expecting him to throw his head back and start laughing loudly at your comment, you couldn't help but watch him like you were witnessing some miracle. You couldn't look away as he bent forward, holding his stomach all the while his body shook. It was infectious, you realized, since you also found yourself chuckling not half a minute later.

He took a deep breath as his laughter died, still chuckling now and then, he turned to you. "It is impressive, isn't it? Had nothing better to do in quarantine, you know?" He shrugged, trying to look modest, but he beamed with pride.

He weaved his hand through the raven locks of hair that fell on his face, making you wonder if they were as soft as they looked. You quickly discarded the idea.

"Well, I won't bother you any longer." He grinned, "but I'll see you around!"

You watched him as he turned his back to you, giving you just a second to admire how tall and broad he was before he flashed you one last smile and a wave.

You found yourself still smiling as you entered your house, tapping your feet on the wood to rustle off the snow off your shoes.

"Wow, maybe I should take a walk, too." Your mother teased when she took note of your smile and relaxed posture. "Did you have fun?"

"I met our next-door neighbor today." You told her after nodding your head. "The poor boy, approaching you at your moodiest. I hope he's still in one piece." She teased, brows quirking when you laughed along instead of protesting.

"Have you met him already?"

"Yeah, we crossed paths once or twice, cute boy. I think he studied in Nekoma Highschool?" She shrugged when she couldn't remember clearly. "Still, it's nice to see he was able to make you smile."

He was nice, you had to admit. Maybe you would pay him a visit to apologize for your -slightly- rude behavior today? Nah, you'd rather wait till the next time you crossed paths, you decided.

As you averted your eyes to the wall both the houses shared, you thought if you'd cross paths soon.

You did. The next day, if you wanted to be exact.

You were startled by the sounds coming from the bushes separating your garden from your neighbors, rasing from your chair, you gazed from the window to see what it was, only to see a head of messy black hair poking through the leaves.

It was impossible not to smile as you watched him lean towards something you couldn't quite see, reaching his hand to your garden and making kissing noises with a desperate expression on his face. "Mika," you heard him call out, "come here boy, that's not our garden."

It was a cat, you realized. (Either that, or he was a pervert.) Taking a breath of relief when you saw the furry tail of the animal, you thought it was time to show yourself (and tease him about it if you could)

"Kuroo-san?" You exited out to the garden, watching the boy as his eyes widened with shock, his body immediately pulling himself back, only to stay stuck between the branches of the bush. You stifled your laughter as he forcefully pulled his way out of it, cursing at the branches scratching him, his face flushing either because of the challenge he gave trying to free himself or of embarrassment.

"H-hi." He muttered as he finally regained his composure, tall enough to have a comfortable conversation with you over the bushes. (He could even lean in to kiss you over them without any problem, something you discovered sometime in the future)

"Are you okay?" You asked softly, still laughing as you watched him pull a small branch out of his hair.

"Yeah, I'm okay. More than okay, I was just- my cat ran into your garden, and I was trying to pull him back." He stammered as he noticed your chuckles. "Cat?" You repeated innocently.

"Yeah, my cat, he's right here- Mika?"

You couldn't hold your laughs back when you saw the baffled look on his handsome face when he noticed the cat wasn't there or anywhere to be seen.

"I swear he was right here!" He exclaimed, panicking. "I wasn't trying to peek in your garden, my cat- he- he-" He stopped his panicked explanation when he finally noticed how hard you were laughing. "You already knew, didn't you?"

"Yup, saw the whole thing." You answered between your occasional chuckles. "Wow, how mean!" He frowned, but you could tell he also found the situation amusing.

"You know, you didn't have to push through the bushes." You snickered. "you could just come in from the door like a normal person." A slight shade of red tinted his cheeks with your words, averting his eyes in embarrassment and scratching the back of his neck with a chuckle. "Yeah, that's probably a better idea."

It had turned into a routine quickly after that. Kuroo would knock on your window, a grin plastered on his face and waving at you from the other side of the glass.

At first, he always had some excuse, sometimes showing up with a plate of freshly baked cookies, telling you his grandma had cooked a little too much. "I'm sure you could smell them baking, and I didn't want you to miss out on the best cookies ever." He would beam. You didn't miss out on the smile that adorned his lips when you told him you could make coffee for the both of you and you could eat it together.

Talking with Kuroo was relaxing, at the very least.

He was a good listener, and his presence enough was soothing. He could calm you when you felt stressed, oddly good at it, too, laughing when you told him that one day. "I have a friend like this." He had shrugged. "A childhood friend, we used to live pretty close, too. I got used to it after a while, I guess."

He would watch you with thoughtful eyes as you spoke as if you were saying the most important thing, even if you were telling him about your day.

Kuroo was also one of the funniest people you knew. He had so many stories from when he was the captain of his volleyball team in high school, the things he told you always making you have a stomach ache from laughing so hard.

A friendship developing so quickly, it would usually end with you getting scared and pushing people who were getting so dear to you away from you, afraid of trusting them, even more than you did.

But not with him, you couldn't, wouldn't. Trusting Tetsurou didn't feel terrifying like it did with everyone else, instead, it felt good. It felt so safe, so cherishing to finally be able able to trust someone with everything you had, and you had never felt this protected and secure being so vulnerable with anyone.

It was the next winter you showed up in his garden, picking up snow from the ground and working on it for a few minutes to make sure you had two perfect spheres you felt all warm inside despite the cold weather.

Throwing the first snowball on his window, you grinned to yourself as you waited for the boy to come out, waiting for the chance to catch him off guard and hopefully manage to hit him square in the face.

Your eyes narrowed when he didn't come out after a few minutes, grabbing more snow from the ground and throwing another snowball on the window. This one you had sent a bit harder, and he must've heard it if he was at home.

When he didn't come out after that either, you frowned, standing up. Just then, you noticed a snowball flying towards you, dodging it the last second before turning that way with wide eyes.

"No-" You managed to choke out before the grinning boy wrapped his arms around you, caging your body against his, and threw himself on the snow, pulling you with him to be buried in the snow together.

"Tetsu!" You whined, even though you were laughing so hard that you were gasping for air. "That wasn't fair!"

"And yours was?" He laughed, his body still over yours, making it hard to breathe for you. "Get off me, I can't breathe." You managed to choke out between your laughter, your eyes lingering on his smiling lips that were a few inches away from yours.

"Because I'm so handsome?" He teased.

"No, because you're heavy." You answered, laughing even more when he faked a gasp.

"So mean, always breaking your boyfriend's heart." He shook his head side to side, not moving an inch that would allow you to squirm out from under his body.

"Come on," you whined, emphasizing the last word. "Lemme breathe!"

"Nope! You broke my heart, so painful that I can't breathe, either! It's only fair, chibi-chan." He grinned, making you roll your eyes.

"Okay, okay." You sighed. "What do you want?" You already knew what he wanted since ever since he had crushed you beneath his, his eyes had never left your lips.

"Let me think. How can you cure a broken heart?"

He had his answer when you leaned forward, pressing your lips to his smiling, soft ones.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x you #kuroo x y/n #kuroo tetsuro scenarios #kuroo x you #kuroo scenarios #kuroo fluff

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liquidthedefunctblog · 3 years

Photo

Oh yes, we’re still jumping those sharks. This time Rtas ‘Vadum is serving Shinji Ikari at Burger King.

——————————————————————————————————————————–

The Half-Jaw Rtas ‘Vadum settled at his desk, a mass of paperwork looming over him. He would be lying if he claimed that the Arbiter’s entry of the Swords of Sanghelios into the fast food industry had been any less than a tremendous success. The icy relations between the sangheili and their human counterparts had slowly but surely begun to thaw, and the restaurant had even begun to attract customers from outside of the local area. It truly was incredible what devious marketing could do to make even the simplest of human meals seem like ‘exotic sangheili cuisine’, the Half-Jaw thought. Today alone they had served a group of tourists, a local politician attempting some kind of disingenuous public relations stunt to boost his chances at re-election, and a briefcase carrying older gentleman who managed the impressive feat of simultaneously appearing both frighteningly unseemly and superbly proper. So successful had the venture been that the Arbiter had even seen fit to provide ‘Vadum with additional staff, at least after weeks of pestering from the Shipmaster. ‘Vadum picked a pen from the pot on his desk. An Earth-made pen of course. At first he couldn’t entirely wrap his head around the diminutive instruments, but he was getting used to them. He actually had time to get used to them now that he had other workers to deal wit-

“Shipmaster!”

Other workers like the veteran sangheili blademaster who seemed to have selected ‘Vadum’s office door as his latest victim. The Half-Jaw sighed as the Blademaster’s pounds continued.

“You may enter, Blademaster.”

The door slammed into the wall, chipping the paint slightly. In its place stood an aged sangheili blademaster, his golden armour dulled from years of usage. However the weariness of his armour and body did little to conceal a ferocity in his eyes that would strike fear into even the most hardened of men. This was Vul ‘Soran. The former second in command of 'Vadum’s assault carrier Shadow of Intent, in his prime 'Soran had been a warrior without equal. Even entering his elder years, he had dispatched many of those foolish enough to try and cultivate a reputation through his defeat. Following the end of the Human-Covenant war, the Arbiter had made sure to appoint the legendary warrior to a position fitting of his stature. Assistant manager at a Burger King run by his old shipmaster. The belligerent commander let out a huff, clearly trying to attract said shipmaster’s attention.

“Yes… Blademaster?” the Half-Jaw questioned, his head resting against his hand as though to indicate that he had resigned himself to his fate. 'Vadum held 'Soran in the highest regard imaginable, he genuinely did. This did not mean however that he had to be pleased with his performance as assistant manner. In his short period of employment the veteran had already evicted two customers for what he deemed to be overuse of the condiment dispensers, attempted to fine another for spilling some water, and threatened at least three with his sword for some other vaguely defined offences. Were it not for the humans present one might have mistaken the situation for an evening on the bridge of Shadow of Intent. At the very least this was certainly how 'Soran seemed to interpret his job.

“A young human has been loitering at the window seat. I was prepared to deal with him myself, but Scion 'Juran reminded me that after the last loitering incident you wanted to be consulted on such issues before disciplinary action was taken.”

'Disciplinary action’. That settled the argument about what job the Blademaster thought he was doing then. 'Vadum tapped his helmet in a manner that seemed to suggest he had experienced such an inordinate degree of frustration lately that his mind was simply no longer capable of processing the feeling. At any rate, he would have to remember to thank 'Juran later. She may well have saved that human’s life. At the very least she had saved his limbs.

“Take me to this human, Blademaster. I will make a judgement from there.”

“As you command Shipmaster. Follow me.”

The golden armoured commander turned around and left the office. 'Vadum thought about leaving him to it, but he really couldn’t afford to let 'Soran cause another incident. God only knows what consequences his establishment would already have faced for the Blademaster’s behaviour if its proprietor didn’t have access to a glassing beam. He clenched his hand for a moment before following his assistant manager.

The pair made their way into the public section of the restaurant, and 'Soran gestured to indicate a small human male with a white shirt and black trousers sat at one of the window tables. He seemed uncomfortable, disturbed even, alternating between gazing out the window longingly and staring down at his feet as though attempting to hide his own existence from the outside world.

“How long has passed since his arrival?”

“An hour at the very least.”

“And during that time he has done what? Has he made any purchase at all?”

“Not even a thing. The human arrived, sat down, and hasn’t made a move since. Shall I remove him from the premises now?” the Blademaster growled, reaching for his energy sword. Vul 'Soran was never known for his patience with those who would go against protocol, and the end of the Great War had done little to dull this trait of his. The Half-Jaw knew that there would be no hope of defusing the situation peacefully so long as 'Soran was around.

“Stay your hand Blademaster, I will deal with the human. In the meantime I need you to make a call to some of our suppliers regarding shipments. You’ll find everything you need to know on my desk.”

'Soran grunted bitterly as he began his return journey to the manager’s office.

“I trust that you’ll inflict a punishment on the human befitting of his infraction?”

“I shall do whatever it is that I need to, Blademaster. Now go. I anticipate that the supply dispute will be solved by tomorrow.”

Now that 'Soran had gone, and taken the threat of a bloodbath with him, the Half-Jaw finally saw fit to approach the loiterer. It was a simple procedure really. The physical threat of an almost eight foot sangheili warrior combined with a commanding tone of voice was usually enough to get most disruptive customers to either cease their violations or leave. Despite what his assistant manager seemed to believe, the ignition of an energy sword was not something that needed to be done often. 'Vadum approached the human, who on closer inspection looked to be almost half his height. He didn’t expect a drawn out confrontation here.

“Human. You may make a purchase, or you may leave, but do not continue to abuse our hospitality.”

The human made no clear acknowledgement of the sangheili commander’s words, instead continuing to take in the beautiful view of some cars and a bush that could be seen through the window.

“Human!”

“Huh?!”

This second, firmer address was evidently finally enough to snap the human out of whatever train of thought he was on, and he turned to face the towering sangheili.

“As I have made clear. You may make a purchase, or you may leave, but your continued loitering will not be condoned.”

The panic-stricken male seemed paralysed in fear for a moment, but it was not long before he stumbled around his chair for a bit before lowering his head back towards the ground.

“S-sorry…”

The Shipmaster stood in thought for a moment, crossing his arms. Perhaps he had been too harsh on the human. He had meant to appear firm, not threatening. Besides that, the restaurant’s manager threatening what appeared to be a teenager would be a worse public relations disaster than anything Vul 'Soran could manage. He sighed in frustration before crouching down to the human’s level.

“I am truly sorry if you feel threatened human, that was not my intention. However these tables are reserved for paying customers. Do you or do you not intend to make a purchase?”

“I- No… sorry.” The human said, continuing to shamefully look between at the floor tiles.

'Vadum couldn’t help but feel curious about the young human’s motivations. Most loiterers came in groups, with the goal of disrupting actual customers or simply abusing the staff in some misguided search for retribution regarding the Great War. This one simply sat alone, away from the other patrons and making no attempt to draw attention to himself.

“I see… Well in that case, I am afraid it is company policy that I ask you to leave the premises.”

It was this comment that finally emboldened the human to some degree. He looked directly at the Shipmaster, and it was this that allowed 'Vadum to finally see just how miserable this child was. His blue eyes looked tired, not in the physical sense but rather an emotional one. As though they had been drained of all desire to carry on existing, and were simply continuing to do so out of obligation. The Half-Jaw couldn’t help but feel a swell of pity for the human in this moment. He still didn’t know why he had chosen his establishment of all places to go, but it was now clear that he was trying to escape something, be it an obligation, a person, or something else entirely. And then the human spoke. His voice was still hesitant, but there was a new addition to his tone. Not one of confidence, but of desperation.

“P-please let me stay for a bit longer… I don’t-”

“One moment human,” the Half-Jaw interrupted, standing up and walking towards his office. He felt justified in his interruption. There was no use in letting the human publicly shame himself. He didn’t need to know what he was trying to avoid, it was already clear enough that he wanted to avoid it. 'Vadum wasn’t usually one for charity, especially not for humans. That didn’t make him void of pity however. Sending the human back out would only distress him further, and ultimately be of no use to anyone. Besides that it was late in the day anyway, so it wasn’t as though anyone was in desperate need of the extra table. He grabbed some earth currency that he kept for his own use from his desk, and headed back out. In his haste he completely ignored 'Soran, who simply glared at him in confusion while listening to the supplier waffle on over the phone. The Shipmaster didn’t intend to break company policy by allowing somebody to loiter without purchasing food, but he didn’t see much point in removing the human. He placed the currency on the counter, and looked directly at the sangheili manning the till.

“Prepare a hamburger and fries for the human.”

The other elite gave him a bemused look for a second before punching in the order.

“By your word Shipmaster. Can we have a name for that order?”

The Half-Jaw turned towards the human who had returned his gaze to the window.

“Human! Your name?”

The human turned back around, startled for a moment with an almost confused look on his face.

“Huh?! Oh uh… Shinji Ikari.”

Several hours later the Shipmaster was in the process of putting away the paperwork he had finally finished. After finally getting 'Soran to leave his office he had actually had a fairly productive few hours, and had managed to finish the whole lot half an hour before the restaurant was scheduled to close for the day. The whole operation was going unusually smoothly. At least it was until a furious Vul 'Soran appeared once more in his office doorway.

“Shipmaster! The human is still there.”

“He is a customer now is he not?”

“That was hours ago!”

'Vadum shook his head in a subtle manner. He really did wish 'Soran would stop treating the most minor of infractions as though they were capital offences.

“Do not worry Blademaster. I will have him leave the premises by closing time.”

“You made the same claim previously Shipmaster. With all due respect, should you fail to do so again I shall be forced to take matters into my own hands.”

“Yes, yes. I am sure that you would.”

The Half-Jaw passed 'Soran and left the office, partly to get away from his incessant complaining, and partly to ensure that the human went on his way before the Blademaster became violent. He walked back into the public area to see the human still sitting in the window seat. He didn’t seem quite as despaired as before, and had evidently stood up at least once to dispose of the packaging from his lunch. Perhaps this wouldn’t be so difficult after all.

“Ikari was it? The establishment is closing for the day in half an hour; I would suggest that you leave soon.”

Shinji turned to look at him, nervousness once more overtaking his face as he realised the time.

“Y-yes sir. I’ll be sure to leave by then. Can I please just stay for a little bit longer?”

'Vadum considered bringing up the loitering policy, but figured it wasn’t worth it. There was only half an hour left anyway. He would solve the issue as he had done before.

“'Rodam! Prepare a basic ice cream for the human. We need to get some use out of the machine anyway.”

“Thanks… for the lunch too.” Shinji said, quietly and nervously.

“Do not concern yourself with it. I must ask though; why are you so eager to remain here?”

“It’s uh… it’s nice here. There’s nobody around an-”

“Does the human mean to insinuate that we are a failing establishment?” cried out Vul 'Soran, who was currently busy cleaning unoccupied tables, though seemingly more so with listening in to Shinji and 'Vadum’s conversation. The human male’s face turned red with embarrassment and a hint of fear.

“N-no sorry that’s not what I was saying…”

“Ignore him,” said the Half-Jaw. “You may continue.”

“I meant that there’s nobody here I know. I don’t have any responsibilities here, and nobody feels responsible for me.”

“And how did you find yourself here to begin with?”

“I uh, I ran off… Everyone there hates me anyway, so I figured they’d be better off if I left.”

“I see… and what drove you to this conclusion?”

“I uh- I mean I never did anything for anyone else. Whenever they had problems I just hid away until they figured it out themselves. I guess that’s my solution to most problems. Avoid everything until it goes away.”

“So Ikari… I believe the point you are trying to convey is that you hate yourself?”

“I… I guess so. But it’s justified hate right? I’m a terrible person. All I do is use other people to make me happy. I try to force them to love me because I can’t love myself, but then as soon as something happens to them I just run away. I don’t deserve to exist…”

“Perhaps that is so, human. But have you made any effort to solve that problem?”

“I- no, I just told you that. All I do is hide…”

Shinji buried his head between his arms and his legs. Sobbing noises came from within. The Half-Jaw decided to soften his approach, to an extent at least. He didn’t endorse Ikari’s attempts to avoid any meaningful interaction with others, but he wasn’t cruel enough to attack him for it.

“You know Ikari, for thousands of years the title of 'Arbiter’ has been bestowed upon certain Sangheili of great significance. The first Arbiters were the most wise and skilled warriors of all Sanghelios. Part king, part judge, they led the species through even the most turbulent of times. The title in this state lasted even after the formation of the Covenant. It was the very highest badge of honour imaginable to our people. That is until Arbiter Fal 'Chavamee rejected the lies of the prophets. 'Chavamee was branded a heretic, and upon his death the prophets saw fit to remould the role of Arbiter. From then on it would granted only to those deemed heretics. These 'heretics’ would be expected to redeem themselves by giving their life in battle for the Covenant.”

Shinji’s sobbing grew even more frequent. 'Vadum assumed that he had misinterpreted the story to be his way of saying that he could only find redemption in death. Perhaps it was a poor decision to tell this story at all, especially with the wounds of the Great War still fresh in humanity’s mind. But the point of no return was long past.

“That was not the point I was making Ikari. If you would allow me to finish the story, I was going to tell of Thel 'Vadam, the present Arbiter and leader of the Sangheili. I served in 'Vadam’s fleet for some time before his appointment as Arbiter. His faith in the prophets was unwavering, and his campaigns on their behalf were ruthless. I can only imagine how he felt when he was branded a heretic and stripped of his positions. As you may have guessed, 'Vadam was appointed Arbiter. He was expected to die in service of the prophets, as his predecessors did before him. But with time 'Vadam saw through their lies. When the prophets betrayed the Sangheili it was him who led us to join with humanity. Since the war he has made every effort to push for unity. Not only between the divided Sangheili factions, but with humanity and the former species of the Covenant. The Arbiter overcame the worthlessness that had been put upon him by the Covenant, and in doing so he restored the honour to his title. Do not assume that sacrifice is the only path to redemption Ikari. Find your own purpose; do not rely on those around you to give you one. Then you can open yourself to the viewpoints of others. Assist them with their struggles, do not push yourself away. There is pain to be found in forming relationships with others. Even the Arbiter could not unify all the people of the galaxy. But there is no joy to be found in wallowing in your failures, and you will never achieve true satisfaction until you grant those around you a glimpse into your true feelings, and allow yourself to take a glimpse of theirs. Fulfil your responsibilities, both to yourself and to them, and perhaps then you will find that yes, you do deserve to exist.”

Shinji raised his head and looked at the Half-Jaw.

“You- you really think so? But I can’t do that.”

“You will have to. Open yourself to others. Allow yourself to engage in meaningful interaction. Then, and only then, you will find worth in your existence. And besides that, I do not believe that you cannot. After all, you did here did you not?”

“I- I guess so…” Shinji said. He wiped his eyes on his arm, and stood up. “Thank you.”

The Half-Jaw nodded at the boy, slightly proud that his tangential story had made any positive impact at all.

“Think nothing of it. Now return to wherever it is you came from. Take your responsibilities head on, and open yourself to your fellow humans. Farewell Ikari.”

“I- yeah… Thank you.”

And with that the human boy left, placing the wrapper from his ice cream cone in the bin as he did so. The Shipmaster on the other hand turned and headed back to his office to finish the filing. Perhaps this fast food business wasn’t as pointless as he had thought.

————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Yup, now it’s a Halo and Evangelion crossover nobody wanted.

#halo #shinji ikari #evangelion #neon genesis evangelion #shipmaster #Rtas 'Vadum #rtas vadum #Half-Jaw #burger king #ikari shinji

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imaginethathaikyuu · 4 years

Text

forever in one night.

miya atsumu - word count: 5877

still not accepting requests for the miya twins. don’t send them. they will be deleted.

disclaimer: this is my first time writing for atsumu, and please note that i ended up writing him far cooler than he actually is, simply for the narrative’s sake. honestly, i think i could have done a better job at capturing his character and who he is, and i know that in canon/fanon, he is a lot dorkier and very often lamer than i’ve written him; pls look over it a little bit. of course, i would love any feedback you have. thank you.

* nsfw below featuring: dirty talk, blow jobs, “casual” sex, mentions of one night stands, mentions of atsumu’s previous relationships, friends to lovers, atsumu being really bad at feelings

Dry hands.

That’s the first thing you noticed when Miya Atsumu put your face between his palms: just how abrasive the pads of his thumbs were.

He saw your small flinch. It should have been his cue to back off. He didn’t. Instead, he hummed your name in a way he hoped you’d like, and pulled your face closer to his.

“Tell me, how long have you wanted me?”

“Since I realized I didn’t have a chance with Osamu.”

He laughed. His nose scrunched up and there was a crinkle in the corner of his eyes. It was cute, but for some reason it didn’t look real. None of the smiles he gave you ever did. “Ouch.” One of his hands fell from your face, taking place on your knee instead.

Even in this intimate setting, the man in front of you was daunting. You expected that, though. That’s what made you interested in him years ago. He didn’t drop that intimidating gaze for anything - he didn’t let his guard down for even a second.

It made you wonder how many times he’d done this if he was so confident and ready, if he didn’t mind faking laughs and touching you wherever he pleased, if he had his walls built before you had a chance to get so much as a peak over them.

“A while, then?”

You shrugged.

“Don’t be shy, I know you aren’t shy.” He ran his fingers through your hair; you scooted even closer to him and rested your head on his shoulder. He smelled warm. “Tell me,” he was whispering, “how long have you wanted me, princess?”

He looked down and watched as you bit your lip. He had a feeling you’d like the nickname.

“Probably not as long as you think,” you replied. It was honest. “I really did have a crush on your brother.”

“When?” Atsumu asked with a playful scoff. You shook your head.

“In middle school…”

You eyed the expanse of his neck, the sharp curve of his jawline, the freckle underneath his chin, the prominence of his Adam’s apple - you wanted to kiss every inch. To remember every detail.

“Until our second year of high school, I guess.”

No one had ever told him that they liked his brother first, but Atsumu wasn’t surprised. Osamu probably would have been a better fit for you. At the same time, however, you were a better fit for Atsumu - it’s no wonder his twin never showed interest.

Atsumu still felt a sense of pride in getting the girl, even though his brother couldn’t care less.

And it’s not like he had you. This wasn’t going to be anything more than a typical one night stand, and whether you knew that or not was none of his concern.

“Your honesty is cute,” he told you. “So you’ve liked me since our third year, Y/N? That’s a long time of pining.”

“No,” was your short reply, and you left it at that because you didn’t feel like being honest with him anymore. You wanted to kiss him. You wanted to see if he’d let you leave a few marks with your mouth. You wanted to savor this moment of faux intimacy, feeling like you were his and he was yours, being in his arms and smelling his cologne and seeing him so up close, because you knew this wouldn’t last forever. It’d probably go by too fast.

So you let yourself kiss his neck. And you were too happy when he didn’t push you away. His chest seemed to deflate with a long exhale, and you hoped that was a good sign rather than a show of annoyance.

It was neither. Atsumu was purely along for the ride. You just hadn’t noticed that the control you currently had was given and temporary.

He planned on taking it back after just a few kisses, but he hadn’t expected it to feel so nice; your lips were soft and gentle and kind, you were kissing him on all the places he liked to be kissed - places others had rarely taken the time to show attention to.

He closed his eyes and let himself enjoy it even though he knew he shouldn’t. And he thought about the short date he had taken you on - not even an hour ago the two of you were sat in a cafe. Of course he was eyeing you up the entire time, and of course you noticed but didn’t care.

You had been waiting far too long to be on that end of Atsumu’s gaze. Years of watching him flirt with everyone but you made you hungry for it, and Atsumu liked that. He liked knowing that you wanted him.

And he wanted you, too. He really did. He liked you a lot. It was a shame, though, that this would likely be over before it even started. Before he even had a chance to get you.

But he’d let you get a taste of him. And maybe, if you were able to handle that, then…

Before he could even realize, you had slid your leg across his lap and were well on your way to sucking a good sized bruise into the side of his neck.

“Well aren’t you brave.”

And then you bit down, holy shit - with all of his experience holding the moan and keeping his cool, right now he couldn’t stay quiet if he tried. “F-Fuck, Y/N,” and the sound made your hips jolt forward.

You had managed to find Atsumu’s one weakness very quickly - most of his partners never get the chance. Knowing you, he should’ve seen it coming.

“You’re feisty, aren’t you?” His next words came to him as if they were a light turning on, a heavenly gate opening, a pants zipper coming undone. “What about putting that mouth to even better use, hm?”

You pulled back from him to nod, but it wasn’t good enough for him. He took your chin in his hand and tapped your bottom lip with his thumb - he was completely enamored by your mouth. He couldn’t remember the last time he wanted someone’s lips around him so badly.

“You want me?”

Another nod. He was getting frustrated.

“Say it, tell me,” he said. “Do you want my cock in your mouth, princess?”

He’d said those exact words so many times that right now he felt like he was reading from a script. And for some reason, he really regretted saying something so generic to you.

But your eagerness lifted his spirits. “I do,” you told him, “Please, ‘Tsumu…”

Even though any other time he hated hearing that nickname in bed - or his name at all, for that matter - he’d let you get away with it, because you were familiar. For some reason, it felt right. You were close. You had always been. A neighbor, a classmate, a friend - now, a date. So he’d give you more leniency than he would with anyone else.

He’d let you say his name, kiss him, leave a hickey, because he felt that was the decent thing to do. It wasn’t because he wanted to hear it, feel it, have it. It was because he knew you more than he knew his other frivolous partners, and he had an innocent soft spot for you. Innocent.

That’s what he’d been telling himself for awhile. Every time his late night thoughts drifted to you, every time he was embarrassed to be caught staring, every time he wished for this very moment. His feelings were innocent and trivial and barely there.

The man was a professional at lying to himself.

“Let’s go to my room, then.”

You stood up and led the way because you didn’t need him to take you there. You already knew where his bedroom was in this small apartment after you had been here countless times - never doing this, but always kind of wanting to be.

“You cleaned your room!” you said, absolutely delighted.

“You expected me to bring a date into a dirty bedroom?”

“I don’t know what I expected from you,” you replied, and he had to admit that you had a point. “I kind of got used to seeing your underwear on the ground and dishes on your nightstand.”

“You’re right,” he chuckled, “you already know the real me. There was no sense in cleaning, then, was there?”

“Yes, Atsumu. There was.”

“You’re supposed to be puttin’ that mouth to better use,” he grumbled, hands on his hips, attempting to size you up. All it did was make you laugh.

Without thinking you said, “Your accent is so cute,” and before you could stop yourself you put your hands on his cheeks - the same way he had done to you earlier - and pulled his face close to yours, giving him the sloppiest pecks on the lips just because you felt like you could.

And he let you, but he wasn’t patient, even though he enjoyed the affection. He wasn’t necessarily reciprocating but you didn’t notice, and you made it quick, so he didn’t have to complain.

He pulled back, examined your face, and ignored the feeling he got in his chest when you matched his eye contact. Then, he tapped your lip with his thumb again, and thought up another overused line.

“Get on your knees, princess.”

Not all of his lines are grand - sometimes he just had to get to the point.

Yet again, something felt off.

You fell to your knees, of course. You were more than ready to do this for him. Atsumu was almost proud of you for it. He brushed your hair out of your eyes and recalled what his next words were meant to be.

“I’m not going to be gentle,” he said, and for some reason he couldn’t look you in the eyes when he did. His confidence seemed to disintegrate and he didn’t know why. “I… I’m just warning you, because, you know - you might not… be able to handle it.”

Why was he saying all of this to you? His words weren’t hot, and it’s not like he’d been planning to treat you rough, but what else was he supposed to do? He wasn’t going to be tender and loving - this wasn’t supposed to mean anything. So why the hell did he feel so awkward when he was meant to look cool?

This is going to go just like it always does. Atsumu would be too much for you, because he was too much for everyone. But you’d give it your best shot until he was finished, and then he’d drive you home, wouldn’t let himself give you a goodbye kiss, and tomorrow he wouldn’t text you back.

Rinse and repeat.

All he needed was that reminder.

“Do you think you can handle it, princess?”

But god was it hard to look down at you and not completely falter in his intentions.

You nodded, absolutely ready and hardly taking him seriously. “I think I can,” you said, giggling.

“I can go easy on you if you need me to.”

“No,” you replied. “I want everything you can give.”

Those words took his breath because he knew you meant them.

“Then I’ll give you everything.” He wanted to bite his tongue, hold those words back, but he couldn’t. He was being just as honest as you were, and he was tired of saying things he didn’t mean.

He heard his zipper coming undone. “Everything?”

“Everything.” He was watching you with a keen eye, absolutely loving the view of you on your knees for him. The few dreams he’d had back in high school about doing this were unexpectedly coming true. “You have my word. As long as you show me you can take it, darling.”

You yanked at his tight jeans and he laughed at your effort, then shimmied out of them so you didn’t have to work so hard. He slipped his shirt off quickly as well.

You had to force your next words through the lump in your throat as you eyed the outline of his girth covered by his tight underwear. “I’ll do my best,” and your voice had lost its confident edge because you were done forcing it.

Atsumu spoke low, “I know you will.” His hand slid onto your jaw, his fingers curled into your hair. With that hand he pulled your face against his thigh, and now the tip of your nose was just grazing his bulge. “Give me your best efforts, sweetheart.”

He had a tight grip on your face and you knew his free hand was raring to take hold of your hair. And as your hands slid up the muscle of his thighs, as your fingers teased the skin beneath the underwear hems, as you pressed your face into his stiffness in a show of desperation, something in the room shifted.

He was looking at you differently. You could see it. He wasn’t eyeing you up out of curiosity like at the cafe, and he wasn’t trying his hardest to give you a flirtatious gaze anymore; he was just watching you. Really watching. Simply because he wanted to be looking at you.

You pressed into him even harder; to Atsumu, it literally looked like you were nuzzling into his cock. He pulled you even closer.

“So cute.” The words just slipped out. Maybe they weren’t the best, but he was hardly thinking. And as you pulled his underwear down his legs, the rest of his thoughts seemed to land on the ground with the fabric.

Atsumu was more impatient than he usually was. As you took your sweet time he felt like he would go crazy. But he didn’t know that you were going slowly on purpose - not to tease, but because you needed a few seconds to remind yourself this was real.

And you looked at him. His thighs were gorgeously sculpted and his hips were perfectly prominent and you still wanted to kiss every single inch of him: the place below his belly button, the smooth skin at the top of his legs, his inner thighs, the small scar above his knee. Because he deserved it. Because he was perfect in the funny way you always knew Atsumu to be. Because you just wanted to.

Above you, he was getting restless. You didn’t care. You kissed him anyway.

“You look nice,” you said with your lips against his lower stomach, and he wondered what you meant. Usually girls made simple comments about the places he always pulled their mouths to before they could say too much. Or they said nothing at all. That was usually his preference.

“Stop teasing.”

You looked up at him. “I wasn’t teasing. I meant it.”

“That’s not what I meant.” He had to pick his resolve up off the floor because this was going too far off script. “You aren’t doing what you were told to do, princess.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

“You still want to, don’t you?”

“I do,” you said before licking your lips.

“Good,” he replied. He pulled on your jaw - you got the hint to open your mouth. With his other hand, he guided his length to your lips. “I’ve been dying to see my cock between these lips all night.”

When he finally got to see that sight, the way it made him feel confirmed that this would be over far too soon, but the rest of the night would be long lasting.

You were eager and Atsumu thought it was cute. You tried your best right from the start, didn’t even try building yourself up, but he wanted you to take your time. It may help him last a bit longer.

“Look up at me, princess.”

But this view wouldn’t - with your eyes wide and your mouth full of his cock, you looked up at him with a confidence you weren’t even aware of but Atsumu could see. He loved it. His hips jerked once, then again, and on that second thrust he felt his dick slide in deep - it made him gasp and try it again, but you pushed his hips back when you gagged.

He was feeling cocky when he said, “Can’t you handle me, princess?”

“‘Tsumu…”

“Ah-ah,” he tutted. “None of that, no whining. Tell me. You can’t handle this, can you?”

You didn’t want to admit it, didn’t want to give him the benefit of being right, didn’t want to make him regret this. You wanted to give yourself to him. If that meant pushing yourself and stretching your limits thin, then you would do it.

You would make yourself his.

“I can,” you said. The tears that poured from your eyes defied you. You clawed at his hips, desperate and sad. “Please, ‘Tsumu, let me. I want you so bad…”

Atsumu supposed he should’ve gotten a kick out of this. Usually, he did. A beautiful girl brought to the point of tears begging for him should have gotten him even more excited. That was usually his goal.

This time, he felt guilt.

He ignored it.

“Okay.” He swallowed hard. “See if you can…”

His words trailed off as you tried again, perilously attempting to take all of him into your mouth and down your throat. You weren’t doing any better than before, but Atsumu didn’t find himself caring.

“What a pretty sight,” he mumbled, and then you looked up at him with those glossy eyes and once again, he was a goner.

You watched his resolve fall apart. The stoic mask he’d been wearing all night was crumbling, and underneath was Atsumu in all of his gorgeous glory. Eyes squeezed shut, blonde hair hanging in his face, mouth fallen agape, moans leaving his throat coming straight from his chest. And it only made you push yourself even more - this is all you’ve wanted and you were getting it. His fake smiles, teasing words, snarky attitude were all gone, all because of you.

He gripped your jaw harder. You held his hand in place there.

“That’s it,” he said as you let his cock slide even deeper, “That’s my good fucking girl.” He moaned loud as you let him fuck your throat, as your lips reached his base, as you choked on his thick length.

He felt himself teasing the edge and that’s all he could focus on. He couldn’t see the tears pouring from your eyes. He didn’t hear your strained noises around him. He couldn’t feel how tightly you were gripping his hand. All he wanted was to cum in your mouth and down your throat. Any second now, you were going to get him there.

“So fucking good,” he moaned - he didn’t even realize he was saying it out loud. “Your mouth is fucking - goddammit - it’s so fucking good,” and he couldn’t believe how much he meant those words, he couldn’t believe how good you were making him feel.

He was moaning and cursing and so close to cumming; you were hoping that this was enough for him.

It was more than enough. You had given him more that he’d ever had. His hips didn’t still, there wasn’t a single falter in his movements. His moans getting louder was the only warning he gave you before you felt his eruption shoot down your throat. And it was hot - it really reminded you of a volcano erupting, and you focused on that absurd thought to get you through it, because the last thing you wanted to do was fall apart when he needed you to stay together. If you stopped now, this entire thing will have been for nothing, and you had to show him that you could handle him. Anything he had, anything he’d give, you could take it and then some.

You felt your throat tighten, threatening a nasty gag, and you held on for as long as you could before your body took over. Atsumu was already pulling away but you pushed his hips to force his length out of your mouth and the coughing started, tears streaming down your face, and you watched your control shatter.

Atsumu hated hearing it. It made it hard to feel good about what just happened.

You heard him walking away and your heart sank.

You were only trying to find your composure, but it didn’t change the fact that you couldn’t manage to hold yourself together for him.

That was it. Were you really that bad? He wasn’t even going to help you up off the floor?

Maybe he was too much for you and you weren’t enough for him. You knew Atsumu’s standards were high, they always had been, but you tried your best and hoped you would be enough. Maybe you weren’t.

You weren’t expecting him to come back. He sank down in front of you and grabbed your face, pushing your hands away, then brought a warm damp cloth to your skin.

You were confused, to say the least. “I’m sorry -”

“Someone made a mess of herself,” he said with a smirk, doing his best to ignore the feeling in his stomach and the words you were trying to say. Pretending to be cool because it was the only thing that would keep him sane. “But I have to say, princess, you do look beautiful with my cum dripping from your mouth…”

You were flustered all over again. “Atsumu…”

“I’m only being honest.” He wiped your face clean; tear stains were kissed away and the evidence of what you’d done was erased from your mouth. “What do you say I return the favor?” His tone was lacking its usual edge. His voice sounded softer - gentle, even.

“You want to?”

“Yeah, of course,” he replied. Pretend to be cool. “It’s only fair.” Another line from his script, but one he meant. “What, you weren’t expecting me to get you off?”

“I don’t know what I was expecting.”

“I know,” he replied, not even knowing why he said it.

He supposed he’d made his decision for how this would go.

“Wanna go lie down?”

“Only if you’re coming with me.”

He took your hand and helped you up. “Cumming with you sounds lovely.”

You hid your eye roll as you turned away from him, but of course you agreed with what he said.

“Just lie down,” he told you, following behind you to his bed. You sat and he pushed you softly, offering some encouragement. You fell back easily and he quickly followed. “I’ll take care of you, Y/N. Promise.”

You got a head start by unbuttoning your top for him, and you hoped he could tell that you were ready to move this along. He watched you pull your shirt off, leaving you scantily clad and a sight for his sore eyes.

He dipped his head down to kiss you, wanting this to go smoothly, and kissing you was natural and easy. It was one thing he didn’t have to think about doing, and he was done thinking so much tonight.

You continued blindly stripping as he gave you lazy kisses, and he pulled away to watch your bra fall to the bed. And you made him lose his breath.

“You’re so pretty,” he said honestly, kissing your jaw and pulling you closer. His hands moved up and down the expanse of your waist. Your skin was soft and warm and he loved touching you in these places he’d never seen before.

Before he could trap you underneath his hips, you tugged your skirt down. Atsumu didn’t help at all, he was too focused on kissing your chest, but you got it off.

“‘Tsumu, just put it in.”

“Already?”

“Don’t you want to?” He raised a brow at you, and you lifted your hips up to feel for what you were suspicious of. “You’re already so hard again. I want you just as bad, Atsumu, so please…”

Everything he did following your words was pure instinct. Your underwear was pulled off in seconds and then he was lining himself up, with your help, to position his length at your entrance; he was inside of you before you could even think about asking for it again.

And Atsumu felt you on every part of himself. He felt like he had been devoured, either by you or by his feelings for you, and for the first time ever he felt happy to feel this way.

He was going to lose himself in you - he knew that. Hell, maybe he already had. But he was okay with it and he was admitting it to himself now.

Being with you made him feel so much, and he didn’t know what to do about it. He’d just keep fucking you, taking you as well as he knew how, and let himself feel however he wanted, because not holding back made this worlds better.

Atsumu very rarely kissed with purpose. Kisses were only ever a means to an end - the only times he shared a kiss with someone was when it was initiated by them or when he needed an excuse to shut them up and get things started. But hovering over you, watching your pretty face contoured with pleasure and looking up at only him, he couldn’t stop himself from kissing you. His lips seemed to fall onto yours on their own.

You moaned into his mouth and his eyes rolled back because a kiss had never felt so good. He brought a hand down to your face, his thumb ran along your cheekbone, touching you so gently you thought you’d be brought to tears.

As his lips molded to yours, the movement of his hips slowed. Your legs wrapped around him, pulled him into you and held him there, and he was trying to rock into you hard.

You pulled your lips free just so you could moan his name and Atsumu was in heaven.

“God, fuck,” he moaned - his voice was ragged and thick, “say my name again, baby, please.”

If you weren’t in such a daze you would have said something to tease him - if Atsumu wasn’t so blissed out, he would have just made you say it rather than tell you to, but neither of you were thinking that clearly. Unlike usual, he wasn’t thinking two steps ahead. And you were so lost in the moment that you had stopped reminding yourself to savor it.

So you moaned his name again, because you’d have done anything he asked. Atsumu so desperately needed to clear his mind and get a hold of himself but it felt way too good to be out of control for once - at this point he wasn’t sure if either of you were controlling this, but he really hoped that you were lost at sea with him.

All he knew was that he loved the way his name sounded when it was coming from your lips; he wanted to hear it so badly that he’d push his new need for having your lips on his to the back of his mind.

It was only then that he remembered what this was supposed to be.

A one night stand. A quick fuck. This wasn’t supposed to matter - not to him - but those original intentions had gone out the window. He’d thrown them out himself and hadn’t even realized it. How had he not realized it?

He was pulled out of those thoughts easily when he felt your delicate hands caressing his face.

“What is it?” you asked him, because he’d completely stopped everything. You didn’t know that something had changed.

“Nothing,” he lied, shaking his head. He nudged your nose with his own. “It’s just - you’re…” He swallowed hard. Thick. “...Addicting.” The shaky breath he released was nothing but a sign of his vulnerability. “I hope this never ends.”

You kissed him again, soft this time for the sake of making it short. “Fuck me, Atsumu,” you said, your lips grazing against his as you spoke, and Atsumu was intensely aware of the fact that he was the only person in the world who could hear your words. “And make it last forever.”

He would.

He wanted to do anything you wanted him to do. He’d do whatever it took. Forever was a long time but if it always felt like this then he didn’t mind.

You pushed the sand dunes of hair off his forehead, smiling up at him as you did. Even when his thrusts into you increased, you didn’t lose it. And he never wanted to look away from you.

Atsumu had dropped saying that stupid nickname in favor for moaning your name, because it was the only word he had never called anyone else and he’d be damned if he treated you like you were just something to be charmed and used. Not again.

“Fuck - fuck, Y/N,” he moaned into your neck. You arched your back into him; his hands wanted to roam your body but if he didn’t keep holding himself up with both arms he was sure he’d collapse. “Y/N!”

Your nails raked his back, trying your hardest to pull him impossibly close. Even though he was as close as he could ever be, you felt like it wasn’t enough. You were sure there was some part of him you still hadn’t gotten.

He was giving you everything, though. Just like he’d promised.

Both of you felt so incredibly good; you were drunk and Atsumu was high - your fixes were each other. And you were both about to peak.

It came slower than you expected - it really felt like Atsumu was building you up one thrust at a time, and each time his hips collided with yours you felt just a bit closer to cumming. You were curling your toes in preparation and your head was rolling around the pillow beneath it, shaking back and forth as if you were denying it because an orgasm meant this was over.

And then you heard Atsumu moan loud. He hadn’t finished, not yet, but he was definitely about to. Something about it told you to just cum, and as his hand found yours and held on tight to it, you did.

He grunted and cursed and came when he felt you tighten so much, pulsating around his throbbing cock desperately. It felt like your body was begging to be filled by his dick, by his cum, by him. And there was no place he’d rather be.

Everything was you. You were all he could feel or smell or hear; the warmth of your cunt, your perfume mixed with sweat, your delicate whines of his name; your hand squeezing his, your shampoo that was so familiar, the sounds of him sliding in and out you. And he was thinking about all of it at once.

He had never felt so good in his life, he knew that for a fact. He squeezed your hand hard and filled the room with broken moans as he thrust even quicker than before, trying to carry on this feeling for as long as possible.

Even when he had finished and the over stimulation got uncomfortable, those thoughts didn’t go away, because unlike every one night stand he’s had, this one wasn’t over the moment he came.

He didn’t pull out. He didn’t let go of your hand. He didn’t even stop moaning. There was one thing Atsumu wanted, and it was to kiss you.

So he did. He kissed you hard, taking hold of your jaw to keep you kissing back as his body relaxed. He was basically laying on top of you now, lapping his tongue into your mouth because he wasn’t ready to be disconnected from you. He couldn’t handle being apart right now, and you were the only person who had ever put up with his odd clinginess for this long so he planned on stretching it out.

But you needed to catch your breath; both of you were still panting through the kiss, and it was too much bordering on uncomfortable. So you pushed his face away, only a bit, but for Atsumu it was still too far from you.

And he realized that right now, he was feeling the desperation and vulnerability his partners usually feel when the sex is over and Atsumu stops letting them kiss him; when he got too wrapped up in his own weird insecurity to let his clinginess show and the desire for attention and affection was gone.

Right now he was performing without a script. He didn’t have something to say that was practiced and proven successful, something that would make you swoon and fall under his spell.

He was panicking, because he didn’t want to have to convince you to let him keep kissing you. He knew that sometimes he couldn’t help being stuck to people like glue, but that’s why he’d worked so hard to grow out of those things. To see relationships like these as menial and only for pleasure. To not get attached to anyone who would only end up ripping themselves away from him.

He held onto you just a bit tighter, as if that would make you stay. Because despite his fears and doubts and insecurities, he really wanted you to.

“Don’t go,” he said, his eyes shut tight and voice a sad strained.

You were literally taken aback by his words. You needed to take a second to realize what he had just said, to examine his face and see that he meant it.

“Atsumu…”

He finally gave out, falling and tucking his face into your chest, catching his breath and pulling his cock out of you and putting himself back together.

“I wasn’t planning on leaving.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, bringing your linked hands up to his lips.

“I was going to stay until you kicked me out, babe.”

“I was never going to kick you out.”

“Are you sure?”

He scoffed. “Yeah.” It was annoying how you could always see right through him, but right now he wasn’t going to worry about anything besides kissing each of your fingers.

After a long moment, you tried tugging your hand away. “Can I have my hand back?”

He pretended to think about it before replying. “Why?”

“Because it’s my hand.”

He genuinely hesitated before letting it go, because he felt like everything would unravel if he did. He tried not to think about it.

“Thank you,” you said with a giggle that Atsumu loved, and then he felt both of your hands in his hair. His eyes widened at the feeling.

With the head scratches he was really able to relax, and you were basically squished underneath him but you didn’t care.

All Atsumu thought about was you. He wondered if he should tell you, but no words came to him. Anything he said would probably be gibberish, anyway. He couldn’t convey the way he felt in words that would make sense, and even though he knew the two of you should have some kind of discussion he decided it could wait. He felt okay in this serene uncertainty, because he had a feeling you were staying right there with him. He trusted you enough to believe that.

There was only one thing worth saying. One thing that he meant, that you would hopefully understand without explanation.

“I hope this never ends.”

If that moment did last until the end of time, neither of you would mind.

“Then make it last forever.”

this has a part two!

#feedback is appreciated and needed honestly lmao #if u cant tell i cannot figure out how i feel about this fic #i absolutely love some parts but i really dislike other parts #and ive been working on it for nine days straight and just want to be done with it so im posting it as is #ive done literally all i can to it lmao this is absolutely its final form #so yeah #sorry if i didnt do atsumu justice (i really dont think i did) im definitely not ready to write for him i think.....#but yall tell me what you think (in a nice way pls)#miya atsumu #miya atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #not family friendly

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haruhey · 3 years

Note

hi i just wanted to say your writing is absolutely beautiful and i honestly take so much inspiration from the way you describe the characters and actions! you are an amazing writer love <3 do you have any advice for writers? especially when using descriptive words, or details?

hey queen !! (checked your bio, i hope that’s what you go by??)

i actually hesitate with giving writing advice because i don’t really think i’m that good of a writer, but i’ll try my best ^^ thank you for the compliments and i’m super happy i inspire you holy shit !! also, this is all coming from someone whose first language is not english, and majors in engineering, so take it with a grain of salt 😌😌

as for the advice:

honestly, the best advice i could give fanfic writers when it comes to descriptive words is definitely do not overuse adjectives! or adverbs if we’re going along the same tangent.

i honestly do not read much fanfiction (mostly just hop on here to post, then leave to write my own until i return to post again), so it may not be a huge problem anymore, but i think an over abundance in the usage of adverbs and adjectives is poor writing. this fact has contributed to my use of present-tense rather than past-tense because i find myself less gravitated to adverbs.

for adverbs, i try not to use them more than once in a paragraph if i can help it.

as for adjectives, i don’t attach an adjective to a noun if there is no purpose to enrich the worldbuilding or if that adjective can be assumed by the reader.

if you’ve written that the story takes place in summer - mentioned with ‘a summer’s breeze’ or even ‘the sunset has inched backwards day by day, stagnant until there were only a few hours of night left’ if you’re fancy, or just by mentioning what the characters are wearing - you don’t have to mention that the sun is beating down or that the grass is green unless it poses a purpose like imagery. if so, go in !! imagery is always fun

you could describe the sun as beating down on your characters if, at some point in the story, take a dip in a lake to cool off without someone explicitly saying ‘wow it’s so hot out here! we should hop into the water’. it also helps establish levels of relationships and character traits.

i write daryl, and because he’s naturally observant, he might see the character he’s with staring at the water - might catch them swallow their spit because of a desire to cool off in the lake, or catch them nibbling their lip due to the hesitation of not wanting to ask him if he’s okay with it - and then mention it to the character if that character isn’t especially forthcoming with their urges.

if character a is more mischievous and confident, per se, like a max phillips or a… uh…. negan (i’ve never written him, cut me some slack) and their relationship with character b isn’t really as close as character a would want it to be, character a might throw off their shirt and wade into the water without a second thought, leaving character b blushing if it’s a pining fic, or turning around and yelling at them to get dressed because they’re stricter about whatever their purpose is out there.

and please, i beg of you, if you attach an adjective to a noun like ‘clumsy feet’ or ‘soft hands’ PLEASE do not refer to them as ‘clumsy feet’ or ‘soft hands’ again in at least 3 or 4 paragraphs. the audience knows those parts are clumsy or soft, there’s no need to remind them again.

body language is also important as well !! tying into this point about adjectives, a well written fanfic (any piece of media, really, whether for an english class it a fun little thing you post on ao3 or tumblr) is pretty reliant on showing and not telling.

let’s say character a is in a bad bad bad situation

instead of writing ‘in a panic, character a grabs their holstered gun and pulls it free before pointing it at the man in front of them’ i would write ‘at the noise, character a scrambles to their feet, heartbeat racing through their chest as their fingers inch towards their holstered gun, pulling it free and trying to suppress the shake of their hands.’

it’s that sense of involvement in the story that makes readers want to consume more, and with how many words my stories round out to, this is something i think i’m pretty decent with.

in general, also try not to repeat words! if you used hand in one paragraph, try not to write it again in the same paragraph. try using the word fingers or palm instead - get more specific if you can so it gives you enough wiggle room with word selection.

daryl’s hands fumbled at the drawstring of his crossbow, taking a second before handing it to you and allowing you to pull it taut.

becomes

daryl’s nimble fingers fumble at the drawstring of his crossbow, taking a second before handing it to you and allowing you to pull it taut.

and, please please please paragraph your fanfic. i feel like 15 or so lines is where my eyes sort of tap out, so i try to keep it under that.

and, uh, yeah, it’s 3am right now as i post this, so i hope this helps ^^ i’m tired so i’m just gonna go sleep :)

#get to know haruhey #haruanswers

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drxwsyni · 4 years

Text

Petrified (pt.2)

Yandere Erasermic x f!Reader

SERIES MASTERLIST

a/n: okaayy this took longer to write than i was hoping for but here it is!

4.2k words

Warnings: some harassment, light injury

It amazed you that despite the extreme overuse of your quirk in the past thirty-six hours, you were still able to hold on to a remaining amount of wavering consciousness. You’d like to think it was because you’ve grown stronger after using it so much over the past few years. In reality, it was most likely due to the chilled wind that blew against your form keeping you awake as you walked home, mind still reeling from the events towards the end of your shift.

On a normal weekday the venture back to your apartment would only take roughly fifteen minutes, twelve if you took a few less than safe shortcuts. Now however, the concept of time was not something your short circuited brain could understand. With limbs feeling like they were made of lead, you could only imagine how much longer this ordeal was going to take.

With your brain on autopilot, you let your thoughts wander in hopes that you’d just blank until you reached your destination. That was until you met the familiar alleyway to your left on the sidewalk.

Doing a quick cost-benefit analysis, you deduced that in your state, shaving off a few minutes of travel time with this detour may be crucial if you want to make it home without collapsing before you got there. Although you were aware of the shady business that went down in areas like this, the alleyway was the only option if you wanted to fall asleep in your own bed.

It was pitch black outside, a few dim street lamps serving as the only form of illumination. The alleyway was dark, but there was just enough light bouncing off the walls for you to discern the narrow path ahead.

You made a final decision, turning down the path despite the pit in your stomach that had just begun to form. I just need to focus on getting home, you told yourself, attempting to calm your nerves.

About thirty feet in and you realized just how stupid you were for ever thinking this was a good idea.

On the other side of the alleyway, the only exit to the narrow path, you could just barely see the silhouette of a tall, large figure step into the clearing. Squinting, your clouded brain slowly identified that the person, seemingly a man, was gradually walking in your direction.

By now you were about halfway through the passage. Understanding that the man likely had bad intentions, you pivoted on your heels and sped up back down the way you came.

...At least that’s what you were going to do, but blocking your path, lazily sauntering in your direction were two more equally large statured men.

Just like that your heart sunk into the now gaping pit in your stomach, the feeling giving you whiplash. Frozen in place, you felt your heart pounding as if it were ready to burst right through your chest. It’s okay, just give them your bag and run for it if they try anything, it’s not like you’d lose much anyways.

You looked back around to see the first figure had drawn close, now standing roughly ten feet away. Head whipping to face the other two again, you found them to have closed the same distance.

One of them, you couldn’t tell who in the darkness, spoke up. “Hey there cutie, what’s a little lady like you doing out all by herself?” His voice was rough, sounding like he smoked a pack a day.

Behind you the other man joined in, startling you. “Yeah, don’t you know how dangerous it is at night baby?”

At this point he had produced what looked like a crowbar. He may have had it before, but your memory was already failing you. The effects of your rapidly increasing heart rate were becoming unbearably severe at this point. Seeing black spots forming at the edges of your vision, along with a dizziness that felt sickening, you wondered if you’d even be able to reason with these guys.

Somehow you sputtered out a defence. “I-I swear, whatever money I have y-you can take it. I really don’t want any trouble, I promise.”

You hear a low chuckle behind you, but you didn’t turn around, or rather you couldn’t, fear taking root and holding you in place.

“C’mon now sugar, we just wanna have a little fun is all. Why don’t you just be good and play along, yeah?”

Nothing you could’ve done would make any words come out of your mouth in protest. Instead, all you could comprehend was the sudden absence of noise around you.

The men hadn’t left, and there was still the sound of distant life outside the alleyway that could probably be heard. But none of that was being processed in your mind.

Dimly, you could see the man in front of you talking, his mouth moving to form words, but it was clear now that the surge of panic and adrenaline had incapacitated your form. Your hearing had failed you, replaced with what sounded like blood rushing through your head.

It was time for the rest of your body to follow suit, crumbling under the severe exhaustion and aggressive response from your body trying to activate its fight or flight senses.

Knees buckling beneath your form, your body swayed slightly to the side as you collapsed hard onto the concrete. Laying there completely limp, your eyes fluttered closed with heavy eyelids. You processed that nothing you could do would prevent unconsciousness, effectively giving up.

It took a few more seconds for sleep to completely envelope you, now unable to even lift a finger in protest. Maybe it was just hallucinations from your lucid, half asleep state, but you could’ve sworn you could make out the distant sounds of loud cursing from multiple people. Maybe even a few pained grunts here and there.

But that comprehension was swiftly cut short, your body finally succumbing to its stresses, knocking you out like a light.

_______

Hizashi was seated in a cushioned armchair positioned just off the edge of the hospital bed so he could keep an eye on the figure laying in front of him. Eyes unmoving from that one spot, he watched the rise and fall of your chest as your unconscious form remained otherwise still.

For a moment he glanced at his wristwatch, seeing that he’d been looking after you for a little under two hours, now being 11:06 pm. During all this time your form had remained in what the doctors had explained as pretty much a coma, brought on by extreme strain of the body’s energy. It wasn’t likely to last long, but the reasoning behind it was concerning enough that they’d administered fluids which you were also lacking by an equally unhealthy amount.

Having more than enough time to think, the voice hero attempted to deduce any possible explanations as to how you’d let your health deteriorate so much. He’d had his fair share of experience when it came to seeing what the effects of overworking can have on the human body. This however was most definitely up there, especially for someone in your line of work.

Bringing him out of his thoughts, a nurse lightly rapped on the door before entering. “Pardon me Yamada sir, but visitor hours ended at 9 pm. I’m going to have to insist that you leave for tonight. You can come again starting at 6:30 am tomorrow however.”

Knowing he’d overstayed his welcome, the blond silently agreed, standing out of his seat and grabbing his jacket that was hanging off the back of it. He gave you one last look, inwardly wishing there was more he could do for you at the moment, before taking his leave.

Hizashi was headed back to his car when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket, pulling it out almost frantically.

From: Shouta <3

Just got back from the station. I already know what you’re going to say, just tell me when you get home and focus on driving. See you soon.

11:10 pm

It was obvious his partner was equally concerned over the state you were in, especially given how he reacted when they apprehended the thugs trying to take advantage of you. Knowing he’d have to wait so as not to irritate Shouta more than he likely already was, the voice hero put his phone away and traded it for an electronic key, unlocking the sleek, black car and stepping in.

The ride home felt like it took ages, his mind still racing whilst going over the events from that night. Attempting to ease his conscience, Hizashi decided to take the time to figure out what he’d say to his partner. Specifically, how they’d deal with you.

_____

When he finally pulled into the driveway it felt as if he was going mad, still reeling from the thoughts of what could’ve happened if him and Shouta didn’t find you in time.

Pushing those scenarios to the back of his head, the blond stepped out of the car and made his way to the front entrance. He typed in the combination to the keypad, hearing the locking mechanism shift before reaching for the handle.

It was silent in the house as he walked in, closing the door behind him. Looking over to the dining room table, he saw the bouquet of flowers you’d arranged for Shouta that night, beautifully settled into a vase.

Distantly, Hizashi could hear the thumping of footsteps above him. Knowing who they belonged to, he resolved to hang up his jacket before anxiously waiting for his partner in the living room.

On queue, Shouta made his way downstairs, hair still wet from showering. Plopping down on the living room couch with an audible sigh, he started. “I got the information of the guys who attacked (y/n) before I left. They’re behind bars so there’s nothing more we can do.”

The blond was leaning against the mantle of the fireplace, arms crossed while anxiously tapping his foot as if waiting for permission to start his rant.

Expectedly, his partner lazily waved, as if to say ‘get it over with.’ In truth, he knew what Hizashi was going to say, and he agreed, but the fact of the matter was that his partner always ended up being overzealous with his passions. The only thing that mattered right now was working out a way to properly deal with both of their concerns.

“Y’know when ya told me how tired the poor thing looked after coming home last week from the shop, I thought you meant like how you look after patrolling all night.”

Shouta disregarded the insult, knowing full well how he appeared sometimes after doing so.

“But this is just―she fucking passed out from getting scared, that shit ain’t normal Shou’.”

His counterpart let him calm down for a second before acknowledging the situation. “I know, you think it doesn’t bother me just as much?” He leaned back into the sofa, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment. “I didn’t think it was this bad. But it could honestly just be a medical problem. Chronic fatigue, severe anxiety...or something like that.”

The blond lightly shook his head. “Maybe, it’s just… I don’t know babe, something seems off to me. And I know you’re thinking it’s me overreacting again, but would ya just hear me out?”

The frustration in the air was palpable, neither being able to settle on a flimsy excuse. “No, you’re not overreacting. I got the same feeling, we just can’t jump to conclusions right now, got it?”

Hizashi’s shoulders slumped in a mixture of relief over the mutual understanding of concern, and defeat for having to hold off on his suspicions.

As if his counterpart knew exactly how the man felt, he continued. “Let’s just wait it out for a bit. Hell, how many people have we seen go through similar things. It’s likely she’ll just have to rest up for a bit. Nothing to worry about.”

The blond sighed, “Sure, whatever―I’m still gonna check up on her tomorrow though, ‘kay?”

“Of course. Now go take a shower, I can smell you from here.”

The atmosphere became a little less tense, having reached a conclusion.

Hizashi chuckled lightly before walking off in the direction of their bedroom, leaving Shouta to relax in the comfort of a quiet house.

_____

The sound of a steady, electronic beeping was the first thing you could make sense of as your body gradually gained back its senses. It was hard, but you channelled every ounce of energy in your body to open your eyes, albeit halfway, to assess your surroundings.

The first thing you noticed was the warm lighting cast upon a bleak white ceiling above. It felt comforting, serving as assistance to calm the growing worry you felt from not knowing where you were. It was likely late in the evening or perhaps sunrise you concluded.

Moving still proved to be difficult, so instead you opted for momentarily trying to piece together what scattered memories you had.

Vaguely, you recall going home after your shift, noting the holes in the messy timeline from what you assume was fatigue-induced memory loss. Next was the unforgettable sense of dread you felt after being trapped by two...no, three people? There were a few lines of conversation thrown around by the perpetrators which you couldn’t quite remember the exact contents of, and given the situation maybe that was a good thing. That’s where the encounter ended, and you were left to assume that like the Saturday shift incident you had long ago, you passed out mostly from exhaustion.

With that done you forced yourself to identify the current situation at hand. It seemed judging by the sterile looking ceiling and walls, along with the telltale beeping sounding off to your left, you were in a hospital room.

It also seemed that you were lying on a somewhat stiff bed, blankets covering you from the chest down, the weight of it revealing its presence. Aching for more information, you struggled with the dead weight of your form with a low groan, moving to prop yourself up on your left elbow.

From this position you could see the heart monitoring device clipped onto your index finger, along with an IV protruding from the top of your hand. Following the tube connected, your eyes landed on a bag of clear fluid hanging on a metal post behind you. The sudden movement catching up to you, a low throbbing formed in the back of your skull, prompting you to hold your head in the hand not secured with medical equipment.

Sighing, you weakly sat up fully in bed and saw that your clothing had been replaced with a hospital gown. You were still so out of it that the quiet sound of a light snoring noise to your right almost went unnoticed. But it didn’t, and you turned your head slowly to the source.

Awkwardly slumped in a cushioned chair to your right was a man, deep in slumber with his head hanging slightly to the side. You assessed his sleep induced state, eyes traveling over his features.

Long black hair hanging loose around his shoulders, mild eye bags, scar under his right eye.

Little by little your memory identified him as the same man who you’d assisted twice now at the floral boutique in which you worked at. What was his name again? It started with an s right? Sh...Shou….God, what was it?

“Shouta! Get up!” A loud voice boomed to your left, causing you to dizzily swerve your head in its direction. Standing in the doorframe of your single patient room was a tall, blond haired man carrying a bouquet of flowers in his right.

Present Mic, you thought, or rather Hizashi, something he made startlingly clear for you to call him.

Jarred awake at the disturbance, the once sleeping man sat up abruptly in his chair, eyes falling on your deeply rigid form.

And what exactly are they doing in your hospital room, much less alone with you while you were sleeping?

Most likely sensing the uncomfortableness mixed with confusion in your demeanor, Shouta spoke up. “I’m sorry, we don’t mean to alarm you in your state. I take it you’d like an explanation as to how you ended up here.”

Hizashi had found his way to the right side of your bed, not after setting the flowers down on a side table first. You waited a few more seconds, collecting your thoughts before responding.

“Um...yeah. That would be nice I guess.” You ended up croaking out the response from the dryness and lack of recent speaking.

The voice hero sat down on the edge of the bed, a small but warm smile on his face almost as if to ease your nerves. “Well songbird, your lucky Shouta and I found ya when we did last night. You’d gone and passed out while some nasty ol’ guys tried to attack you.”

There was a pause before his counterpart continued, giving you a moment to let the new information sink in. “We decided to go on patrol together for a few hours after leaving your shop. Our sources mentioned some criminal behaviour around the area you were in, so naturally we went there first.”

With these crucial bits of information revealed, you picked at your memories once again. Vaguely, the sounds of what you now presume to be fighting were the last things you can recall.

“And thank god we did. Ya must have been so frazzled that the scare put you to sleep. Can’t even begin to imagine what would’ve happened if you were alone.” Hizashi’s point didn’t make you feel better, but he was right, last night was a combination of your worst qualities happening all at once.

You must have visibly shuddered at that statement too, mind wandering to the plethora of possibilities those men could have gotten up to. “But nothing more happened, I can assure you. ‘Zashi and I dealt with the guys and called the police to pick them up. We were worried about your condition so he carried you to his car and drove you to the hospital before an ambulance arrived to save time, I stayed to wait for backup. You’ve been asleep since.”

Silently, you noted the reduced throbbing in your head, figuring the impact of your skull crashing into the pavement was to blame. And then it dawned on you, You’ve been here long enough to be changed into a gown and given an IV?

“Ah...exactly how long have I been asleep?” Your voice was shaky, weak even from just having woken up and still feeling the ache of fatigue.

Shouta decided to relay this piece of news, using a calm tone in an attempt to not alarm you. “The attack happened last night at around 9:15, it’s roughly 6:30 in the evening right now so you’ve been asleep for almost a whole day.”

Oh...well that’s definitely cause for concern. On the bright side it’s a new record! But, if that’s the case then how long have they been waiting for you to wake up…

If it was a long time then you’d feel bad for ruining their Friday night, and all of their Saturday. This realization alone was enough to give a skip in your heartbeat.

“I stayed with ya for a bit while Shou cleared some stuff up with the police, but I ended up gettin’ kicked out not too long after by the nurses cause of visitor hours being done and all that. We both came to check on you this morning and he’s stayed here since then. I just got ‘ere to switch shifts but whaddya know, our sunshine was up ‘n awake.”

Great...you thought, so you had ruined their day. You’d have to deal with making up for that later once you got out of this place, but for now...wait, our sunshine?

...Okay, just ignore it (y/n), he did save your life after all so a little shameless endearment can’t hurt, right?

“I’m really sorry for taking up so much of your time. You don’t have to stay any longer, I’m sure you guys are pretty busy.” You had no reason not to send them away, feeling horrible for making the two think they had to look after you. In addition to that, you barely knew the men outside of what kind of flowers they liked, so the unfamiliar circumstances were a little unsettling.

You could hear Shouta sigh at your dismissive response, to which you thought he was relieved to finally be sent home.

“If we were concerned about wasting our time we would have left a long time ago. We’re here because we want to be, not because we have to.”

Strangely, that didn’t make you feel any better. “Still, I feel bad for keeping you…”

There was a brief silence in the room, and if you weren’t currently hanging your head in shame then maybe you would’ve seen the subtle but conspiring looks exchanged between the two men.

The blond was the first to break the silence, something he seemed to be good at. “Well...if you’re feelin’ that bad there’s certainly a way to repay us.”

Your head perked up at the proposition, anxiety settling due to not knowing exactly what this repayment could entail.

Thankfully, Hizashi didn’t seem to want to watch you squirm with anticipation. “Why don’t ya stop by our place once you get out of here. Shouta and I’d love the extra company.”

His counterpart continued after a moment. “We always end up making more food than we need for dinner, the accommodation for one night would be no trouble.”

Naturally, the prospect of being asked to spend more time with these men after you’d already been such a burden was unexpected. You’d think after all this time it would only be normal to send you on your way. Yet, here they were, continuing to leave you stunned at their actions over and over again.

If this is what it takes to appease them, then so be it. Surely you can handle having dinner with them, right?

The two waited patiently for your response. It took a second, but you managed to gather your thoughts for a comprehensive answer. “I suppose… although I don’t see how this helps me repay you in any way.”

“Nonsense, songbird. Shou’ wouldn’t admit to it, but he’s been a bit worried that you’re not takin’ care of yourself, with all the work ya do. Nothing a good meal can’t fix, ya dig?” Hizashi positively beamed at your acceptance to the request, making it hard to deny him. Especially since, although silently, Shouta wished to see this through as much as him based on the explanation.

You smiled, the reassuring atmosphere easing the tension in your body. “If that’s really what you want then I guess it couldn’t hurt.”

It looked as if the erasure hero was about to speak, but before he could, a knocking on the door stopped him.

Waiting a moment before entering, a nurse opened the door. “I would’ve appreciated it if you two informed me immediately when she woke up.” She reprimanded the two heroes for their irresponsibility before making her way to the unoccupied side of your bed.

“I need to discuss some matters with the patient, why don’t you head home for the night.” She regarded the two without looking in their direction, instead examining the IV bag and writing something down on a clipboard.

You gave them an apologetic look, clearly they wanted to talk a bit longer than they were being allowed.

Shouta stood from the armchair, gathering his jacket in his arms with Hizashi following suit.

“We’ll see ya later, ‘kay sweetheart?” It seemed the blond simply had a habit of dishing out loving nicknames, and at this point you were getting used to it.

The erasure hero continued, “Get some rest, one of us will check up on you tomorrow morning.”

You managed out a quiet “Okay,” and they were gone before the nurse could scold them for taking up more time.

Finally having the privacy she needed, the nurse regarded your current state. “Okay then, hun. Let’s see how you’re doing.”

_____

The next hour or two was filled with various exams and consultations. You were told exactly what you’d been expecting. Which was basically along the lines of blacking out due to exhaustion combined with hitting the pavement pretty hard. You didn’t bother to mention that the occurrence was most likely also slightly induced by the sudden panic attack, figuring that it wasn’t quite as important.

At the end of the day you were told that in light of the situation and your poor health, it was necessary that you’d have to remain in the hospital for another day at least. After that it was a matter of judging whether your condition had improved.

You were brought dinner, barely regarding the dull taste as your hungered state simply couldn’t care less. Frankly, the after effects of the prolonged fatigue were still causing you to feel intensely drowsy, and so the rest of the night happened in a blur.

The next thing you knew, you’d settled back down to into your bed, ready to accept another long slumber.

End of Part 2

_____

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solalunar-eclipse · 3 years

Text

Scars You Can’t See - Chapter 9

Chapter title: Final Blow

Word count: about 4000 words

Author’s Note: This was originally just going to be an apology for posting this chapter a week late, but now. Now @khinesthetic has made this wonderful, amazing piece of fanart for SYCS, so. This chapter is going to be their appreciation chapter. (Also, please check out the rest of their blog for more cool art!)

Warning for another panic attack on Shadow’s part. If I’ve written something badly in that section, please let me know.

First | Previous | Next

...

Rouge paced back and forth in the old, tacky motel room that served as the current residence of Team Dark, the worn carpet muffling the clicking of her boots as she moved.

Shadow watched her through vaguely glazed-over eyes, thinking over the basic rudiments of a plan that the bat had laid out for them for the tenth time. The fortress they had in their sights was less than half an hour away- an easy drive compared to some of their extensive cross-country trips. Omega was given the job of getaway driver, despite his protests...unfortunately, a giant five-foot-tall robot was not exactly equipped for this level of stealth.

The two Mobians, then, would have to sneak into one of the most secure facilities on the planet, hack into some of their most secure files without tripping any alarms or otherwise having anybody notice, download all of those files onto their tablet, also without anyone realizing, and get out of said building alive.

This would have been an easy task, usually- the team would have taken it without reservations had it been an assignment from G.U.N. But now, Shadow and Rouge were both heavily underprepared and undersupplied, to say the absolute least. No briefings, no special equipment, and no backup besides Omega. Just them, their wits, and their powers.

And even assuming they survived and escaped capture on the spot...none of them dared to think about what their lives would be like afterwards, if everything went exactly as planned.

As it was, they had tried to get a full nights’ sleep, but they probably wouldn’t be able to get much more rest time than that if they hoped to stay ahead of G.U.N. and successfully complete the mission. So today was the only day to do it.

Right now, the team was just killing time until late afternoon. They thought (or rather hoped) that the guards would be a little more tired by that point, and if the mission took the right amount of time, they might even be able to escape into the night with relative ease. Rouge had planned it all out on the drive over, and sometimes Shadow was truly impressed by her level of tactical skill- especially since she had never had any sort of formal training throughout her line of work.

Rouge really knew what she was doing.

As time passed, the team tried their best to remain sharp, but it seemed that even resting could become tiring after a while. Eventually, Omega stood up and looked down at both of them. “I have run some calculations. Your mental faculties will continue to deteriorate at a rapid pace if we remain in this room for much longer. This will in turn lower our possible chances of success. We must leave immediately so that our success rate does not fall further, considering it is already dismally low compared to most of our usual missions.”

Shadow frowned, rubbing his brow. Ordinarily, he would have responded to Omega by now, but at the moment, half of the robot’s words had barely even registered. Yet he shouldn’t even be able to get this tired, let alone suffer such consequences from a week or two on high alert.

“Ugh…” Rouge groaned, hauling herself upright. “Let’s just get this over with. I’m too worn out to worry about this anymore. We just do it, and what happens is what happens.”

“Agreed.” Shadow said simply, still trying to ignore the effects of his weariness.

Omega’s eyes turned into their ‘angry’ shapes, but it didn’t seem to be directed at them. “Your cortisol levels have been far above normal for over a week. This level of exposure is highly unhealthy. We must remedy this as soon as the mission is over.”

“Yeah.” Rouge muttered quietly. “If it’s ever over.”

“Studies show that negative thinking precludes negative results. The reverse is also true, for strange reasons unknown to me, as I am not organic. Cease your pessimistic comments, and we will drive to the G.U.N. Fortress immediately.” Omega said firmly, walking out the door. Shadow vaguely realized that the E-series robot had been taking charge more and more over these past few days, and that he’d also become a lot less...enthusiastic around the same time.

While the hybrid didn’t know if Omega could be worried, the idea that he might be was just a little bit flattering.

…

The drive there was short, barely enough time for Shadow and Rouge to work themselves up into ‘mission mode’. All of the adrenaline that the former had felt last time was barely present now, replaced by a sort of frazzled sensation that made it feel as though every nerve in his body had been overused until it was barely even functional.

They parked a long ways away to avoid the notice of its various high-tech security measures and just sat there for a second.

The team had been here so many times for various reasons: meetings, briefings, work parties...but this was going to be the first time they entered it illegally. (Or at least, it would be for Shadow. They both suspected that there wasn’t a well-known building in the country that Rouge hadn’t broken into, for kicks if nothing else.)

The robot left the engine running in case of an emergency, switching on his communicator. “Alert me if there are any problems and I will come help you. I will happily destroy this building for a distraction. Or to find you. Or even just for fun.”

It seemed that Omega had still retained all of his violent tendencies, at least.

The two rushed over to the entrance, making sure that the guards wouldn’t see them- a practiced maneuver at this point. Rouge carefully turned the two security cameras so that they faced the sky, all without setting off any alarms.

Shadow tucked himself into the niche that held the metal sliding door while Rouge tapped away on the holographic screen near the doorway. His suspicions about the bat having infiltrated this building in the past were confirmed when she whispered to herself, “Let’s see if the backdoor I left is still there...a-ha!”

She typed in a code on the keypad: 4-8-6-7-8-9. At this point, the entire system automatically let her in- she even had the highest clearance to go with her fake account. Within moments, the door was unlocked with a quiet ‘whoosh’. (Ordinarily, there would have been at least five different checks to pass after this point to get inside, including fingerprint and retina scans.)

Rouge smirked at him before entering the building. “The code is ‘GUN SUX’, in case you’re wondering.”

Shadow could almost have laughed.

They didn’t need to sneak through the halls as much this time, since Shadow decided that it would be better to utilize a few Chaos Controls to get them past some particularly crowded sections. They couldn’t have made it past the ridiculous amounts of security measures- including automated gun turrets- otherwise. This fortress was one of the most protected places on the planet. There was a reason the President had been held there during the Black Arms invasion.

The twisted tangle of halls was specifically designed to confuse intruders, there were cameras to cover nearly all the blind spots, and guards passed every area by in two minute intervals. The hybrid thanked his lucky stars that he was with Rouge, since she seemed to be aware of every tiny flaw in the system, from a glitchy camera that hadn’t been replaced to which guards tended to slack off. He became more and more impressed with his friend’s skills each time she offered him a set of directions that worked without a hitch.

Once, they were nearly discovered, though. A pair of loud footsteps echoed around the metal corridors, sending both Rouge and Shadow into high alert. Quickly, the bat tugged him into an empty room, tucking them both behind a plain desk and out of sight.

“I guess G.U.N. actually switched up the guards for once, ‘cause this guy always used to be paired with another slacker,” she whispered as they walked by, completely oblivious to the two Mobians less than fifteen feet away. They were completely silent, unlike the guards at the old information warehouse- the fortress was much more important to G.U.N. and required a higher level of training and sophistication to maintain its security.

As soon as their steps had faded, the hybrid teleported them both to Rouge’s next location, which was even deeper in the complex. By now, they were several levels below the ground, but they still needed to travel farther to reach the secure servers that comprised G.U.N.’s major database.

Ordinarily, they would have used the elevator, but those didn’t have keypads, just card scanners. If any of the three had attempted to use their cards (which they wouldn’t have anyway, since the system kept track of who scanned their cards at what time) the entire complex would likely have gone into complete lockdown and they would have failed their mission.

Unfortunately, the excessive teleporting left Shadow’s Chaos stores running low, to say the absolute least. He dropped to his knees the second that they entered the main computer room, panting slightly as he leaned his head against the wall while staying out of sight. “You still gonna be good to take care of the rest, honey?” Rouge asked gently, brushing her fingers through the fur on his head. For a moment, he wanted nothing more than to pass out on the floor and remain like this forever, but then he paused, bewildered.

“Why am I so tired? I was literally just resting half an hour ago, and now look at me.” he groaned, looking down at his power inhibitors. He hadn’t had access to a Chaos Emerald in ages, so maybe that was the problem? His fingers brushed over one of the golden rings as he considered taking them off- that would provide him with a boost of power…

“No.” Rouge said decisively, holding his wrist so that he couldn’t release the inhibitor. “I’m not having you passing out on me in the middle of our escape, alright? It’s too risky to do that right now.”

“Either way, I’m going to run out of energy soon- wouldn’t it be better to get some more strength?” Shadow asked, his eyes narrowing.

She tightened her grip on his wrist briefly to make her point before releasing him. “As much as Omega wants to come in and blow this place up...no. There’s so much more that could go wrong, Shadow, and I’m not willing to risk that.” The bat folded her arms, asserting herself as the one in charge...which she always was.

Shadow glowered, frustrated both with himself and the general circumstances. However, he forced himself to listen to her orders, since she usually knew what she was doing- an impressive sign of respect for him. “In that case, I’ll barely be able to do more than a couple of Chaos Spears. You’ll have to move quickly, Rouge.”

They walked among the stacks of black plastic and tiny flickering lights, searching for one specific computer to link into. Within a minute, the bat had discovered exactly what she was looking for and plugged in a cheap second hand tablet that she’d bought with some more of their spare money.

This tall black piece of hardware was part of a stack all the way at the back of the room, shoved into a corner and covered in dust. It looked completely useless and outdated.

At least, if the viewer wasn’t one who could recognize that these models were actually newer than the rest. The dust, the placement, it was all designed to let the computers pass underneath the average person’s radar and keep G.U.N.’s most secret files under high security, multiple firewalls, and the latest in antivirus technology.

Rouge, however, was by no means an average person.

Meanwhile, Shadow thanked any member of the pantheon that might be listening that they were getting the job done now. Their resources were running low, so he hoped that after this they could go hide somewhere and get a job to survive. Hiding wasn’t ordinarily his preferred reaction (it had never been his preferred reaction, honestly) but it was starting to sound an awful lot better than the current ball of stress that was his life.

“Alright, we’re in.” Rouge whispered quietly, having used her ‘all-access’ password to enter the system yet again.

The hybrid peered over her shoulder, curious to see what kind of documents she would discover...only to find that most of it was very confusing, to say the least. There seemed to be no sense of organization, to the point where he could barely tell if it was on purpose or just done badly. As a relatively organized person himself, he quickly grew frustrated by the complete lack of any sort of pattern among the various files.

There was at least one part done purposefully, though, because the folder Rouge wanted to access (labeled ‘requisition forms’ in the middle of a video section...suspicious) was blocked by a passcode. The first two tries- TOWERS and CMNDR- didn’t work.

The bat closed her eyes and bowed her head. To the untrained eye, she might have seemed like someone in defeat, giving up at the first sign of a struggle.

Shadow knew that she was just trying to focus and tap into her skills.

Eventually, she sighed resolutely. “Let’s give this one a go.” She typed in five familiar letters.

M-A-R-I-A.

It seemed that his sister had touched many lives forever, since it worked. Rouge clicked through a few of the files, her eyes widening with each one. Shadow was certain that his own were equal in size, watching as G.U.N. detained people for weeks without trials, arrested innocents doing perfectly legal things, and pulled many others over on the street and forced them to submit to searches without reason.

In short, hurting ordinary people who they were supposed to protect.

It truly felt as though something sick and twisted had taken root inside of the organization, indeed, that it had been allowed (even encouraged) to spread and grow until it choked the life out of every positive reason that had ever been part of G.U.N.’s founding. All that seemed to be left now was a paranoia-ridden, overly-violent military force with little to no conscience or accountability for its actions.

Eventually, the bat closed the folder, downloading the entire thing onto her device. “Let’s go already!” Shadow hissed, hating the idea of staying a moment longer than was absolutely necessary.

“No.” Rouge whispered. “We end this here. Now. Today.”

Then, she maneuvered the folders into a different part of the server, and smiled bitterly. “They can’t claim it’s faked very well if it comes from them.”

And then the master thief uploaded that entire section of their database onto the Internet, through G.U.N.’s website and every single one of their social media accounts, with one short sentence to accompany it: Doesn’t seem like you’re very good at your job, ‘Guardian Units of Nations’.

Shadow grabbed her by the arm as soon as she finished. “Alright, now come on! We have to go, they’ll figure it out soon enough!”

Rouge logged out and unplugged the tablet, and the two of them rushed to the door and peered out of the glass, waiting until the guards had passed. As they rushed outside, the bat remembered to close the door in absolute silence. Then they hurried down the hall, moving as quickly as they could. Rouge flew and Shadow skated to keep the noise level as low as possible, the faint hiss of Chaos energy and the occasional flap of wings the only sound they made as they ran.

They took basically the same route as before, only using a slightly longer path due to the hybrid’s low energy. It still went well at first, as they kept hidden whenever any guards came near. At any rate, there were no shouts of “intruders!” going off as they rushed upwards, through the halls, and towards the exit.

About halfway up a stairwell, though, several things happened in quick succession.

Alarms began to blare throughout the entire building, and red warning lights began to flash all over. The complex began to go into high alert, although the doors remained open to allow the soldiers to get from one place to another quickly. Although the two former agents couldn’t see it, they knew that all important rooms (including the main server area) would have a set of steel guards placed over them by now, so it was good that they had already completed most of their mission. “How did they figure it out that fast?” Rouge gasped, startled.

That was when they heard the stomping of guards entering the stairwell, heading downwards towards the computer rooms- and their position.

Shadow stumbled on the stairs, the alarms and lights and those sounds triggering his most horrible memory of all. The raid on the ARK had already been brought forcibly to the surface recently, so it was still a particularly raw spot for him. He faintly felt his friend clasp his arm and begin to drag him forward and up, trying to keep him safe despite the walls of his own mind closing in around him. Remembering that he had to flee, the thought across both past and present situations of get out get out get out RIGHT NOW powered him enough to hold on back and even begin to pull her along.

A pair of guards heard him stumbling on the stairwell and began to fire at them as they ran, forcing the two to dodge bullets as they rushed up the stairs. Rouge flew the hedgehog directly up a level of steps before letting him drop and hit the stairwell running, since they didn’t have enough time for her to properly set him down. The gunfire only added to Shadow’s confusion- that and the dark metal walls of the next hall left him blinking and dazed, struggling to recall where he was...or when he was.

This...this is the Fortress, right? No...but that wiring on the walls…

He grabbed someone’s hand- Maria? Rouge? didn’t matter, he had to keep her safe either way- and rushed faster, faster, through the halls and up more stairs, dodged the gunfire, kept running- look there are some doors, why are there doors on the ARK? It looks like Mobius outside- doesn’t matter- we have to get out so let’s go-

They burst through the double doors, Shadow breaking the sound barrier as he did so while Rouge tried to ride the air currents he created as well as she could. It took all of her strength just to cling to his hand so that she wouldn’t be completely blown away by the force of his movement.

Shadow vaguely heard the screech of car tires and heard Omega shout “I AM ON MY WAY. RUN.” as they blew past him.

His heart was pounding in his chest and his ears and he felt too hot and he could barely breathe, but he had to keep going. His legs were shaking but he pushed onwards through the difficulties, barely even thinking.

He couldn’t even see the mountains or the sea. His entire world was just the ground ahead of him and the hand in his own.

He had to run.

Eventually, Shadow heard a whirring noise, turning his head to see a helicopter bearing down on them in the sky. The sight of something even more obviously impossible on the ARK than the doors or the grass shook him out of his confused memories slightly, only to leave him out of focus and disoriented.

Figure it out later, right now you have to move!

Bullets began to spatter across the grass, blasting from double machine guns mounted on the helicopter, and he heard Rouge- yes, it was Rouge, not Maria- yell something along the lines of “What the actual hell?!”.

Shadow didn’t want to know how anyone had ever decided that chasing down two rogue agents, one of whom could break the speed of sound, with a helicopter spraying the entire area with deadly, aerodynamic pieces of steel was the right way to get them back. Or the smart way, honestly. Already, the helicopter’s fuel was running low, considering that their engine had to be supercharged to keep up even for this long.

He rushed into the nearby woods as it fell back, not stopping until they reached the base of the mountains nearby. They crouched underneath a rocky overhang, and Shadow slowly worked to come back to himself fully.

He had escaped with his companion this time…

His unfocused eyes slowly blinked and he shook his head slowly, trying to drive the lingering images from his head. “I’m here, hon, I’m here.” Rouge said softly, and his ears twitched, trying to shake the nagging feeling that this entire situation should be completely different.

“I gotcha, Shadow, but we’re going to have to move eventually...I can hear them starting a search party.” She scoffed. “Stupid of them to be so loud when they’re hunting a bat.”

The hybrid took one deep breath, and then another. “I’ll be alright.” he said quietly, his unwanted thoughts finally receding into the background enough to allow him to focus. He saw Rouge smile at him faintly, squeezing his shoulder once before giving him some space.

A minute or two later, a stick snapped to their left, and both of the highly skilled, rigorously trained Mobians shrieked (in an impressively high register for Shadow especially) and whirled around, ready to fight. Both relaxed, though, upon seeing that it was only Omega, who in turn gave them a quick once-over. “You are both a mess and G.U.N. will be here at any moment. They will begin to sweep this area soon and we must be far away when they do so.”

“Where do we go now?” Shadow asked quietly, his mental capacity strained nearly to its limit.

“Somewhere. Anywhere out of the way, where we can hide out until things quiet down.” Rouge sighed, her eyes downcast.

None of them were looking forward to what came next- a long wait until G.U.N. gave up searching for them, cut off from all of their friends, where they couldn’t go by their real names or enjoy their usual pastimes….

….and that was if they were lucky.

They got back into their car, again, and set off down the highway, again, looking for a place to hide.

Again.

(Shadow was tired of hiding. Sometimes he found himself wondering, as Rouge kept an eye out for nothing more than a sheltered area to pull their car into for the night, if it wouldn’t be better to just give up entirely...but the sheer idea of G.U.N. winning, especially of being put back into stasis, was too horrifying for him to bear.)

He’d rather suffer a lifetime of fear and of looking over shoulders if it meant he could spend it with Rouge and Omega than return to the endless frozen quiet of a stasis pod.

And as they pulled into the woods and began to cover their car with a decent amount of brush and leaves many hours and two states later, he almost felt a sort of resigned peace. Knowing that they had done what was right and that he would get to be with his two closest friends for a while longer was...not bad, all things considered. Sighing, he lay back in his chair, one hand linked with Rouge’s and Omega’s hand resting next to his ears.

They could hide together, at least.

…

In the morning, he woke up to shouting.

“This is the Guardian Units of Nations! Surrender peacefully or we fire!”

Rouge stared at him, her eyes wide.

Shadow was frozen in place- he didn’t think he could have moved had he tried.

Oh, chaos.

#shadow the hedgehog #rouge the bat #e 123 omega #scars you can't see #sycs #team dark #ugh part of this got deleted twice so sorry if any of it's weird #i had so much i was going to say here but now i can't remember it :(#anyway #hopefully this chapter turned out well it was supposed to be the big important one #despite the cliffhanger the next chapter should be less stressful #i've been looking forward to chapter 10 for a long time #and please. if you haven't already done so then check out khinesthetic's blog. please. it's so cool.#(also shadow would never voluntarily go back to his stasis pod. if sega says so then they're wrong and that's just a fact.)#sol’s fanfiction

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