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slaasherslut · 1 year

Text

Big Brother Bo

Summary: Bo Sinclair is a lot of things, but he is not someone who will let others hurt his family. Especially his baby sister.

Warning: sister!sinclair reader, fluff, angst, mentions of domestic abuse and child abuse

1.7k words

Bo swung his front door open and looked down at your soaking wet figure standing on his front porch in the pouring rain. His baby sister stood there with nothing but a small backpack of belongings and tears mixing with rain water. You looked so small and scared, Bo felt his heart drop. It was fairly early in the morning, he had yet to even finish his morning coffee before he heard your knocking. Judging by that you must have left late in the night. Packing a single bag before jumping into your car and speeding off towards Ambrose.

"Hey little one, what's wrong?"

His question made you break out into a loud sob. You covered your face to try to hide the best you could. You felt embarrassed and weak, knowing how strong and capable all three of your brothers were, you hated being seen as the weak girl of the Sinclair family. It wasn't until then that Bo noticed the deep bruise that covered your forearm. Anger bubbled within him. You came back to Ambrose with some of your things rather than going back to your apartment in the city you shared with your boyfriend. Bo knew exactly what that meant, and he was furious.

His fury faded fast and his brotherly instincts kicked into full speed. Bo didn't hesitate to lean down and pick you up in his arms. Wrapping his arms just under your butt to haul you up. You instinctively wound yourself tightly around him, afraid to let go, arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. You nuzzle your face into his neck and continue to sob, your big brother whispering soft hushes to make an attempt at soothing you. Bo shuts the front door with his foot before carrying you up the stairs to his bedroom, where he knew you felt safe.

He couldn't help the flashes he got back to when you were both children and he would do the same thing he is now. You would usually feel like everything was your fault, that no matter what you did. Mom and dad always blamed you for everything going wrong. They were never ones to be reasoned with. They were always right and you were always wrong. Whether it was harsh words or a slap across your face, you always went running to Bo. He would cuddle with you until you stopped crying or pick you up and take you somewhere you felt safer, much like he is now. Only difference was that you were bigger now and a little over a decade older.

You loved your big brother more than anything, you felt like you connected with him on a deeper level than anyone else. Your parents took their rage out on you when Bo started getting too big and too old. When he would fight back he would hit a lot harder than when he was a toddler. When you came along, it became your burden to carry. You were now the weakest and most vulnerable one and your parents used that against you. But no matter what you felt safe knowing you had a brother who was willing to kiss your scars and make you feel safe.

Bo gently set you down, your feet hitting the floor made you feel a bit wobbly. He gently took your bruised arm in his hand and raised it to get a better look at it. A large black bruise covered the side of your forearm near your elbow.

"That asshole did this to you?" He tried his best to not clench his fist in anger with your arm still in his grasp. You couldn't meet his eyes, you know if you did the tears would start flowing and wouldn't stop. You meekly nodded.

He leaned down to kiss the bruise as light as he could, too afraid that if he pressed any harder you would shatter like delicate glass. You winced at the contact.

"I'm sorry, little one." He softly smiled down at you, trying his best to make you feel at ease.

"C'mon, let's get yah outta these wet clothes before you catch a cold." Bo muttered softly as he carefully pulled your backpack off your shoulders and trying to avoid your aching arm. By this point your cries were now heavy breaths and sniffles. He set the bag down on the floor at the foot of his bed and quickly went to rummage through his dresser drawers for something you could wear. He grabbed out one of his black hoodies that he had worn a few times since last being washed and a pair of light gray sweatpants. He handed them to you.

"Go ahead, Darlin' I won't look, scouts honour." He turned back around to face the wall while you undressed and put on the dry clothes. He knew you were in pain and wanted to help you, your body probably ached. But he couldn't bear to imagine what other bruises and scars were littered under your clothes. Just thinking about it was killing him. The sound of wet clothes hitting the floor and your sniffles filled the room. You gave his shirt a light tug to signal when you were finished changing. Bo turned around and gave you a quick once over before walking to the bed behind you and pulling down the blankets, motioning for you to get in. You quickly crawled into the warmth of his bed and Bo pulled the blankets tightly up around you. You could feel small remnants of body heat from his previous night's sleep. He obviously hadn't been awake for too long before you showed up. Once you were in a comfy position you glanced up at Bo, a worried look strewn across his face as he tucked you in. You felt bad for worrying him. Once you were all tucked in he sat himself on the edge of the mattress, a gentle hand came up to wipe the remaining tears for your cheeks.

"I'm gonna go grab yah some ice for tha' arm of yours. I'll be right back." He withdrew his hand and rose to his feet.

"No!" Your voice was nothing but a hoarse whisper. Your throat and chest ached from the previous hours of screaming and crying. "I don't want to be alone." You shook out. The tears started to flow again.

Bo looked into your sad eyes as he stood over you. He could never deny his little sister, he never could. Since the day you were born and he looked into those bright eyes of yours he has been putty in your little hands. As he looked into those same eyes filled with tears and hurt, he felt himself becoming pliable once again. Bo would do anything for you.

"Okay, Darlin'. I ain't goin' nowhere." He gave you a small smile before crawling under the blankets with you. You immediately shimmied closer to him and nuzzled into his chest. Once again, the flood gates opened and the tears started falling, Bo's shirt and the sheets below you stained with tears. He didn't say a word except pull you closer and rub gentle shapes into your skin.

He had only met the man who had hurt you twice and he seemed fine enough, but something never felt right about him. Something about him never sat right with Bo. Now his suspicions were true. He had asked his brothers what they thought of him and they had said the same thing. Only that they only probably felt that way due to you being their little sister and watching you go was incredibly hard. Of course they were also a bit jealous. For your entire life these boys were the most important men in your life, and now this guy you met at a bar sweeps you off your feet and you leave Ambrose to be with him. It was a tough pill to swallow for all of them, watching you grow up from the little girl in frilly dresses to the young woman you were now.

The anger in Bo started to bubble up again. That bastard had laid a hand on his baby sister and he thought he could get away with it. He was dead fuckin' wrong. He felt you were pulling away from him since you left. Less calls, less visits, less postcards. Your older brothers heard less and less from you as time went on. At first of course they were all upset, none more than Bo. He was the man of the house and he was supposed to keep his family together, he felt like he wasn't doing that. But now he could only assume that wasn't your choice. That you were forced to be kept in the dark. He was angry with himself for letting this happen. He never should have let you leave Ambrose. He never should have let you leave your older brothers. He should have never let you walk out that door.

Some time passed by before you fell into a deep sleep, all of the emotions running haywire and your lack of sleep really tired you out. Bo placed a gentle kiss to your forehead before slipping from the bed, trying his best not to wake you. He slipped out of the room and down to the kitchen, where his coffee now stood cold. He picked up the mug and walked out the back door into the backyard of the old house. The anger he still felt inside of him was so strong, he whipped his half full coffee mug at a nearby tree with a harsh scream, coffee flying everywhere and the mug shattering. He was going to hurt that stupid bastard, and probably do a lot more. Bo reached into his pocket and pulled out his cellphone, quickly dialing Vincent. His brother couldn't speak, only sign, but he didn't need to for this conversation. When Vincent picked up the line was silent as usual.

"Vin get your ass over to the house right now. Y/N just showed up on mah doorstep a little less than an hour ago and she's hurt pretty bad." Vincent made a low sound of worry. "Don't worry, she's safe now, she's sleepin'. Looks like we're makin' a house call tonight. Bring Lester wit' yah, and somethin' sharp."

☾ notes: This took a lot of inspiration from rottent33th and the-pinstriped-hood's most recent writings for their Novelist in Ambrose idea. As someone who recently left an abusive relationship this really therapeutic for me to write. And seeing what those two wrote, having Bo be so protective, made me just really feel things. Thank you both🖤 This note is getting really rambley I apologize lol.

☾ tag list: @rottent33th @cries-in-latino @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better @the-pinstriped-hood

message me if you want to be added to my tag list!

#house of wax 2005 #house of wax #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #slasher #slasher fic #slashers #slasher fucker #slasher smut #bo sinclair smut

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ikefool · 3 years

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Can I request headcanons of the MC comforting the suitors (Leonardo, Theo, Jean and Mozart) because they had a terrible nightmare?

Sorry this took me so long but I was in school and also depressed lmao. Anyway all is good now and I hope you like these angsty boyes, now I really wanna hug me some vamps -𓆏

Leonardo:

* You’ve been sleeping in Leonardo’s room for only a short while now. You had fallen asleep while watching him work by candlelight at his desk. He had shushed you gently about an hour later when you stirred as he got into bed, and you hadn’t woken up again until well into the night.

* At first you don’t know why you’re awake, but then Leonardo groans again. It’s a long, drawn out groan of pain, and he’s panting like he’s just ran a marathon. The laces of his shirt are open to reveal his heaving chest and his hair clings to his forehead, his expression drawn.

* You shift anxiously into a seating position and try to wake him gently. “Leonardo?” He shakes his head and groans as he slaps your hand away, rolling himself into a tangle of sheets. “Leo?” You ask, now wide awake as you shake him more firmly. He nearly smacks his forehead right into your face whe he sits up with a start.

* At first you just sit there, half on his lap while you wait for him to come back into himself properly. You brush his sweat-soaked bangs from his face, smooth out his skewed cotton shirt while he pants gently and grips your shoulders firmly, eyes slowly focusing on you. You’ve never seen him so tense and worried, and as you gently caress his face and search his golden eyes he relaxes into your touch and heaves a great, shaking sigh.

* “Cara...” he murmurs, swallowing harshly, then chuckles self-depricatingly “Sorry for waking you.” You shake your head with a frown and he leans heavily into you until you both thump genly back onto the bed. “You alright?” he murmurs into your hair, head held close to his chest where you can hear his heart rate slowing down. “I should be asking you that” you chide. He chuckles again, more sincerely this time “Nah, you’re here, no? I’m alright now.” You press your lips against his collarbone and gently trace patterns on his back until he falls asleep once more.

Theo:

* He doesn’t move much in his sleep, so when you wake suddenly from the sharp pain of an elbow to the ribs you spring wide awake in an instant. Theo is jerking like he’s fighting his sheets in his sleep, and you barely have time to be concerned before he wakes himself up with a gasp of your name.

* “Theo?” You ask, unsure, holding your side absently. His eyes flit all over the room, taking his surroundings in frantically and then finally landing on you. His brows are set into a deep frown, and you hover anxiously next to him, not knowing if you should approach him just yet.

* “You’re hurt.” he finally rasps. He extends an arm and you exhale as you go willingly into his embrace. His hands are strong and firm as he checks your face, your arms, scanning his eyes over you to make sure you’re alright. “No, Theo. That was just a dream, see?” You try to pull away to show him you’re alright but he instantly tightens his hold on you, you give up with a soft grunt and smile up at him reassuringly. “I’m whole, I’m fine.”

* He eyes you, suspicious. Then rubs a thumb gently over your ribs. “Oh, that?” you chuckle “Theo, you know I’ve ran into the counter harder than that.” That pulls a half smile from him, and you lean in to kiss his cheek reassuringly, reveling in the pouting blush that results from it.

* “Clumsy little Hondje” He mutters, raising a hand to gently ruffle your hair and then trail it back down against your neck and shoulders in a soft caress. His breathing is evening out, and you pull him back down to the bed close to you. “There, if you hug me close like this you won’t have any room to elbow me” He glares down at you, but the effect is dampened by the sweet kiss he gives you in apology before tucking you close to his side.

Jean:

* You run into the room, heart pounding wildly. You had been just outside in the hallway when Jean had started screaming. A rasping, pained howl that sent you into immediate panic. You had burst into his room, running to his bed and calling his name in worry.

* Before you even know what is happening, Jean is awake and grasping your arms roughly in his strong hands. His eyes instantly rage with cold fury, but his expression morphs from hatred to terror in a second. “Mademoiselle?” His eyes widen and he quickly turns his head to hide his scar. “I told you not to come in here.” His tone is sharp, but his voice tremors slightly “I could have hurt you”.

* He seems to be preparing to either lecture you or kick you out, but stops and swallows his next words when you expression crumples into a teary frown. He seems at a loss as you step forward and hold onto his shoulders, looking at him for a moment before practically falling onto him.

* He accepts the hug, willing to let you hold him but confused as to why you would want to. “Mademoiselle?” he whispers again. “Oh Jean, it sounded like you were in so much pain.” He winces, embarrassed, but still raises his hands to rub your back tenderly. “Oh, just look at me” you huff suddenly, rubbing your eyes pointedly as you step away from the embrace “I should be the one comforting you, not crying into your shoulder like a weak little child.”

* “It was only a dream” Jean frowns, clenching his shaking hands onto the sheets “I’ve had them before, I can deal with them on my own.” It was the wrong thing to say, because your gaze turns sad again. Ignoring the painful pounding of his heart, he reaches out for your hand, taking comfort in the soft skin under his calloused fingers. “And I don’t think you weak.” He adds. You smile at him brigtly, and he forgets the burn of fire on his skin when you reach up to trace the line of his jaw.

Mozart:

* You stir gently awake, feeling Mozart’s gaze on you even before you open your eyes. “Sorry to wake you.” he murmurs “I just had to...” He trails off, long fingers trailing from your ribs, down over your waist and settling on your leg, where he rubs back and forth with his thumb for a quiet moment.

* “Are you okay?” you yawn, shifting closer so you can cuddle into his side. He holds you tighter and nuzzles into your neck, nodding against your skin. “Bad dream?” You ask, he nods again. “Shh” You soothe, gently and sleepily threading your fingers into his soft hair as he heaves out a relieved sigh.

* “We’re in the mansion, I’m safe, you’re safe... I won’t let you get hurt, even while you’re asleep.” He huffs against you, indignant. “I’m the one that’s supposed to protect you.” You smile and scratch his scalp gently, despite his tone, you can feel him relax around you. “There’s nothing wrong with being taken care of once in a while, Wolf. ‘Sides, we protect each other, right?”

* He scoffs, apparently almost back to his usual self. “What will you protect me from, huh? With those weak arms of yours.” “Wah-?!” You stare up at his mischievous smirk, he’s teasing you again. You pout “Well, see if I dust your room again.” You ignore his grumble of ‘I manage dusting just fine’ “-or bugs! I protect you from bugs all the time. Also, for someone so protective of his sheet music you sure do leave it lying around a lot, half of your notes would have flown out to the garden by now if I- hmp!”

* You deflate against him as he takes your chin in his hand and pulls you into a deep kiss. “Never leave me.” He murmurs, surprisingly vulnerable. Ah- so that’s what this was about. “Never” you whisper against his lips. “I’ll love you until you tire of me.” Instead of chuckling like you expect him to. he inhales sharply and pulls you into a kiss once more, his eyebrows furrowing as he melts into you. “You’ll just have to love me forever, then.” You have no problem with that at all.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

Consider, mayhaps, leaving feedback?

Taglist: @juminly @thesirenwashere

#ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp theo #ikevamp jean #ikevamp mozart #ikevamp leonardo #ikemen vampire fic #ikevamp hc #ikemen vampire headcanons #a thing that i wrote #hurt/comfort #nightmares #ikevamp theo x reader #ikevamp jean x reader #ikevamp mozart x reader #ikevamp leonardo x reader #Headcanon #ikevamp headcanon #ikevamp headcanons

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toosicktoocare · 3 years

Text

hi, here’s some Buck and Eddie sleeping quarantining together

It’s ten minutes of Buck listening to Eddie roll and shift around in his makeshift bed that he clears his throat and props himself up on his elbow, sighing. “This is stupid.” It’s dark, but he can still make out the dark lump on the floor beside his bed moving until it’s taller, and Eddie’s bare, tan skin is barely visible, his blanket pooling around his waist.

“Is this your way of inviting me to the bed?” Eddie’s voice is passively eager, and Buck sighs again, louder, a little more drawn out.

“Yes.” He drags out the word, a laugh slipping past his lips as Eddie hops up from the floor and throws himself on the bed, rolling over Buck to the empty side.

Eddie breathes through a deep sigh, the content evident on his breath, and Buck rolls over until he’s lying on his side, facing Eddie with a cocked brow.

“The floor can’t be that bad.”

“Tell that to my back.”

Buck huffs out a laugh, and he moves until he’s lying on his back, matching Eddie’s position. He stares at the ceiling, and though his muscles are still, his heart’s beginning to quicken in speed until it’s a rapid, rabbit’s foot thump against his rib cage. “This isn’t weird, right?”

“It’s only weird if you make it weird,” Eddie grumbles around a yawn, and Buck can feel Eddie shift around in the bed.

He peers over to see Eddie lying on his stomach, his back faintly exposed with the blanket only pulled up to his hips. His head is turned away from Buck, and contradicting his own words, Buck stares, his eyes following the small, sharp curve of Eddie’s back.

“Go to sleep, Buck,” Eddie mutters, and Buck whips his gaze back to the ceiling and swallows thickly.

He’s thankful his ceiling fan ticks slightly because otherwise, he’s sure Eddie would be able to physically hear his heart threatening to burst out his chest. He squeezes his eyes closed tightly and takes to breathing exercies to steady his heart rate: in for four, hold for seven, out for four. He repeats this until his face falls slack, and then comes the water.

It creeps at the edge of his dream, a muted crescendo to decrescendo lapping faintly at his ears. It brings a furrow to his brow, and he rolls onto his side, his back to Eddie, to try and jostle the hint of a dream away during a brief bout of consciousness.

It comes back stronger when he nods off again. He falls into his first REM cycle, and the water’s all around him, floating debris slamming against his ankles. He stares around, stuck in a vast, seemingly endless, pool of rushing water that whips strongly around him, trying to pull him off his feet.

He holds his ground, bracing himself with bent knees, but then the debris gets bigger, longer, and he spares a glance down to see that the chairs and trashcan lids have morphed into listless bodies floating along the pulsing waves.

No, he thinks, shaking his head. Something’s off. The dark walls around him are closing in, but they can’t because he’s missing something. Someone..?

“Christopher?”

He works the name around his jaw, frowning, and the single word feels sour but right. Christopher should be with him, beside him, his small hand in his, but he’s not. There are bodies floating face first in the water around him, and Christopher isn’t here.

“Chris?” he tries, eyes scanning his darkening surroundings. He can’t... He can’t lose Christopher; he...

“Christopher!”

Something latches onto Buck’s leg, sharp, breaking his skin, and he falls, his entire head going under. The water’s cold and murky, painted in faint wisps of red, and Buck cannot breathe. There’s something heavy pushing against his chest, keeping him under, and he can’t break free.

“Christopher!” he shouts, dirty water rushing into his mouth, sinking heavy in his lungs. He twists and fights against the dark force against his chest. He tries to break free because he can’t breathe, and if he can’t breathe, then Christopher probably can’t breathe.

The water around him is growing redder, thicker. It’s getting harder to see, and it’s cold.

“Buck!”

He pushes with every muscle; his jaw clenched tightly. “Christopher!” he calls back. “I”m here!”

“Buck!”

Christopher’s voice sounds different, deeper but similarly desperate, and Buck’s lungs are burning. He needs to...

“Buck!”

Buck jerks forward, a strangled scream ripping up his throat, and he grips at the arms in front of him, staring frantically hard at the face before him, a face that’s pale, lifeless, floating, until it’s not.

“Buck? You with me?”

Eddie’s face slowly gains life and color until Buck can make out his sharp, worried features: his dark eyes narrowed, his forehead creased, his jaw set hard. “Eddie?” he rasps out, fingers tightening around Eddie’s arms.

“Hey, yeah. It’s me. Are you okay?”

A loaded question. Buck’s far from fine; Buck hasn’t been fine for a long time. He nods, but he doesn’t miss the way Eddie’s frown deepens.

“You were mumbling for Christopher.”

“It was just a dream,” Buck tries. He doesn’t want Eddie to worry about him; he doesn’t want anyone to see through the plasters he’s thrown up to mask his cracks.

“About the tsunami? Buck, have you-”

“-it’s fine, Eddie,” Buck says, pushing his voice to be light yet firm. “I’m fine.” Even as he says it, his fingers are still digging into Eddie’s arms, and he slowly releases his grip and falls back against his back with a sigh. “Sorry.”

Even through the dark, Buck can make out the brief pull of conflict against Eddie’s face. He knows Eddie wants to say more, but instead, Eddie carefully lies back on his back, his shoulder brushing against Buck’s.

“You going to be okay?”

No, Buck thinks.

“Of course.”

***

Buck stares at his bed; it’s still a mess of tangled sheets. His comforter’s been kicked toward the end of the bed. He got hot last night, after his dream. The heat was welcome though, comforting and encompassing, and when he woke to his alarm, he was on his side, and Eddie was pressed flush against his back, his arm wrapped tightly around Buck’s waist.

Buck can’t remember his dreams from the night before after the intrusive tsunami one. All he can remember is bright, wide-open warmth that wrapped around him, carried him over a light, welcoming breeze.

“Should we make the bed first?”

Buck turns a smile to Eddie, who’s walked up to his side, head tilting at the mess of the bed.

“I never really saw the point of making a bed if you’re just going to mess it up again later.”

Eddie breathes through a laugh, and he slips around Buck and flops onto the bed, a deep sigh morphing into a groan. “Me either, but my mother and my grandmother insisted.”

“Well, luckily they aren’t here, and you’re just stuck with me.” Buck climbs onto the bed, watching as Eddie fiddles with his phone. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to Facetime, Chris,” Eddie starts, and he tugs at Buck’s arm until Buck’s falling onto his back beside Eddie, his shoulder knocking into Eddie’s.

Eddie holds his phone up until the camera’s squishing both their faces close into the small square in the corner, and then the call’s being answered, and Christopher’s face is so close, his smile so wide.

“Buck!”

Buck suddenly feels warm from head to toe, and he smiles so naturally wide. “Hey, Christopher!”

“Are you and daddy having a sleepover?”

Eddie snorts, and Buck slaps his leg outside of the camera. “Your dad’s elderly back can’t handle the floor.” He laughs loudly when Eddie’s over-dramatic pout covers their small screen in the corner.

“Tell us about your day, Chris. How’s virtual school going?”

Buck listens as Chris talks excitedly about his day, in specific detail, and for the first time, despite everything that’s happening and has happened, he feels calm, at peace, if he’s willing to admit he’s being cliche.

Chris and Eddie bounce naturally off each other for thirty minutes before Chris has to get off to get ready for bed. He and Eddie follow suit, and before Buck knows it, he’s back in last night’s position, lying on his back in the dark and staring at the ceiling, hoping, desperately, that his ceiling fan will continue to mask the echoing thump of his heart.

They lie like this for a while, and though Buck says nothing out loud, he knows Eddie’s still awake and working through his own thoughts.

“You know Chris is okay, right?”

“Hmm?”

“Because of you,” Eddie adds. “Chris is fine.”

There are things Buck knows that Eddie leaves unsaid: it was a while ago, stop worrying about it, I’m not mad.

“He’s a strong kid,” Buck opts for, turning his gaze when Eddie shifts until he’s propped up on his elbow, his body twisted toward Buck.

“You don’t have to talk to me about it if you don’t want to. Though,” Eddie pauses, his face falling, “I wish you would. But, whether you open up to me or not, I know I’ve told you before, but you’ve got to let go of the guilt, Buck. No one could have predicted that, and you literally drove yourself to a hospital bed searching for him. You didn’t just save him, either. You saved so many people that day, and I don’t blame you for what happened. I haven’t lost my trust in you. I still stand by my thinking that Chris is safest when he’s with you.”

Buck’s eyes are stinging. He blinks quickly, slowing craning his neck until’s he’s looking up into Eddie’s dark eyes. “Good thing you just did enough talking for both of us.”

Eddie groans around a light laugh, and he flops back down onto the bed, twisting his body more toward Buck until he’s draping himself half atop Buck, his face dropping to Buck’s neck.

“I hate you. Haven’t you ever heard of a moment?”

“Who the hell has moments at 10 PM?”

“Lots of people!”

“Will you two please shut up?”

Eddie pushes himself up, his lips pursing together, biting back a laugh at Chimney’s groan from the couch downstairs.

Buck can’t help but giggle, and then Eddie’s falling back against him, and they’re trying, and promptly failing, to cover their laughs.

“I forgot he was here,” Eddie whispers.

“Too lost in the moment?”

Eddie buries his face back to the crook of Buck’s neck, and his breathy laugh is warm against Buck’s skin. They lie like this for a moment, both laughing quietly until their breathing evens out, and only the sound of the ticking ceiling fan cuts through the silence.

“Are you going to be okay tonight?”

Buck’s seen Chris tonight. Granted, it was through a camera that sometimes froze, leaving Chris’s voice still echoing through the speaker despite his face blurred mid-turn. But, he saw him. Alive. Breathing. Steady on dry land. And, Buck thinks, he’s got a very real, very alive, body atop him, keeping him grounded, keeping him from floating away.

Is he okay? No, Buck thinks. Okay is a loaded word with multiple jagged edges that struggle to smooth out and meet in the middle. But, tonight? With Eddie firm at his side, with Christopher safe and warm in his own bed?

“Yeah,” he says, and he can feel Eddie smile against his neck.

“I think I will be.”

#Buddie #911 fox #9 1 1 #9 1 1 fox #evan buckley #Eddie Diaz #hurt/comfort #fanfiction #emotional hurt/comfort #nightmares

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mochegato · 3 years

Text

Mine Protector

Continuation of Enemy Mine

She gripped her jacket tighter around her as she made her way down the sidewalk. One of the good things about Gotham, she supposed, was nobody gave you a second glance. In Paris, she would have been stopped every few feet by most of the people she came across. It would have been nearly impossible to make her way in peace. But here, nobody even noticed her. Nobody noticed the cuts. Nobody noticed the blood. Nobody noticed the glancing over her shoulder every few steps to make sure she wasn’t being followed.

On the downside, most likely, nobody would react if the men came back for her either. Nobody would intercede if they grabbed her. Nobody would care unless it affected them. Which meant she was on her own. It was up to her to get somewhere safe so she could report what she found… tomorrow. Today she just wanted to take a shower to wash off the blood and grime and curl up in bed and try to forget the feeling of getting questioned and beaten.

She looked back over her shoulder again and narrowed her eyes at the men who just turned onto the sidewalk, trying to remember if she had seen their faces at the club. She was so distracted, she didn’t notice the form in front of her until it had grabbed her and dragged her into the alley next to them. She tried to scream. Maybe if she made enough noise, someone would do something, if just to stop the annoying noise. But she couldn’t scream. A hand over her mouth muted her screams.

Once they stopped moving, Marinette kicked behind her, trying to hit either the upper thigh or crotch. Either should be enough to take the man down for a few seconds, long enough for her to get away. But the man blocked her kick with his shin. Marinette growled internally but felt at least a tiny bit better knowing it was going to be a hell of a bruise that he’d be feeling for days. She twisted to elbow him in the neck, but her reactions after her earlier encounter were just a few seconds slower than usual, enough to give him the opportunity to grab her arms and hold them against her body.

“Marinette stop...” Red Hood cried, his voice knocking her out of her tunnel vision and finally noticing who it was that grabbed her.

“What are you doing here?” she cut him off harshly. Even with her bangs and hair obscuring her face after the slight struggle, her glare still came through.

“Patrol. What are you doing here?” he countered in the same tone.

“Going home,” she growled. “Are we done now?” She leaned away from him and crossed her arms with a pout. He continued to stare at her wordlessly waiting for her to elaborate. If she was upset, especially upset enough to snap at him when they weren’t fighting, then she almost always would continue to talk, working through the problem and the anger as she did. Instead, she looked down and pulled her jacket closer around her, refusing to look at him.

Jason arched an eyebrow at her reaction. That was not normal. “Marinette?” he prodded.

“What?” she hissed to the ground.

Jason stared at her for a few more seconds before finally taking a step closer and reaching to hook his finger under her chin. She moved to take a step away from him but she was already backed up against the alley wall. Jason’s hand faltered. Marinette had never reacted like this. If anything, she would slap someone’s hand away if they tried to touch her. For him, she would defiantly stand unmoving, refusing to give him any kind of reaction. Occasionally, she would even lean into the touch. But shying away? Something was definitely wrong.

He removed his helmet to see her better and to make it less intimidating. They were… well, whatever they were, they weren’t enemy enemies, especially not as Jason and Marinette. He examined her a lot closer. She had blood on her jacket and he was sure if she wasn’t holding it so close to her body, he’d see more on her shirt as well. Her hair was sticking to an area on her neck and the angle she was holding her head carefully concealed her face. He debated taking off his domino mask to get an even closer view of her injuries, but they were too exposed. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t afford to do it.

He slowly took another step forward, waiting to see how she reacted to him. When she didn’t shy away further, he hooked his finger under her chin again. This time she let him and when he gently nudged her face up to look at him, she yielded. His whole body went rigid. “Who did this to you?” His voice was low and deceptively calm, but she could hear the rage simmering under the surface.

She tried to break free from his hold to look away again, but he wouldn't let her. “Who. Did. This. To. You,” he repeated, not bothering to hide the harshness in his tone this time.

“It doesn’t matter,” she grumbled looking anywhere but his eyes even as he moved her face around to see the damage.

“Jesus, Marinette!” he exclaimed, finally sweeping her hair away from her neck to expose the multiple cuts along her neck down to where her neck met her shoulder. His jaw set harshly as he took in the bruise already forming around her eye and the cut in her brow. A matching one on her forehead was still oozing blood down her face almost obscuring the deep bruise on her jaw. He wouldn’t be surprised if it hadn’t been dislocated. It would certainly explain why she wasn’t talking. “How bad was the fight if you ended up like this even outside of your suit?”

She looked away refusing to meet his eyes. “You were wearing your suit, right?” he asked carefully. Marinette set her lips defiantly, refusing to answer his questions. Jason huffed out a frustrated growl. “Why weren’t you in your suit? And if you weren’t in your suit, why didn’t you transform? Fuck, even if you weren’t in a suit you can protect yourself, how many of them were there if they were able to do this?”

Marinette stared at the ground for a few seconds trying to decide how much she was willing to expose. “I was undercover,” she started. Jason opened his mouth to object but she continued before he could chastise her for not transforming anyway. “And there was no place for me to transform. So unless I wanted everyone to know my identity, I had to deal with it as civilian me, who isn’t supposed to be able to fight.”

Jason tugged lightly at her coat to see the damage to her body. “You should never have been in there alone. I can’t believe B let you go in without backup.”

“I can take care of myself, J… Hood,” she growled as she pulled her jacket tighter around herself again, blocking him from seeing the bruises and cuts forming along her ribs and back.

“This is not taking care of yourself!” Jason yelled at her.

“If it would have gotten too bad, I would have stopped it,” she whisper yelled back.

Jason glared at her and considered again taking off the domino mask so she could feel the full impact of it. “I asked who did this to you.” His voice was softer but still laced with danger.

Marinette rolled her eyes. “I'm not about to give you another person to kill, another body to add to the pile.” Jason pursed his lips but didn’t interrupt her. “This isn't about you. This is about me. And that won't make me feel better.”

He studied her furrowed brow and downturned lips, the look in her eyes and felt his own eyes softening. He brushed the hair from her face and caressed the cheek that wasn’t hurt. “What will?” he whispered softly.

“Being with someone who isn't a crime boss,” she whispered back.

He nodded and took a half step closer. “You certainly deserve that,” he said breathlessly. He leaned down so his forehead ghosted hers, too afraid of causing more pain if he touched one of her wounds. His breath fanned across her lips as he spoke. “White picket fence, two kids, dog and a cat…”

“Loving partner,” she finished softly.

He nodded, his lips just missing hers by a hair’s breadth as he did. “I could be that for you.” He looked from her lips to her eyes, asking for permission to move closer. Her eyes searched his for a moment before darkening and becoming hooded. Jason leaned closer, but just before he made contact they heard footprints and loud talking at the end of the alley. They looked over to see what was causing the ruckus and Marinette immediately went still, her entire body becoming rigid.

Jason felt the change without even having to look at her. “These the guys that caught you earlier?” he asked without looking away from the threat. She nodded. He nodded in response. “Close your eyes,” he said calmly.

“Really?” She stared at him incredulously.

“Yeah… if you let yourself get beaten up, hence,” he motioned toward her face, “then Marinette probably isn’t supposed to be a good fighter, so Marinette probably wouldn’t like watching violence either.”

“Marinette doesn’t like watching violence,” she reminded him pointedly.

“I hear you guys like beating up women,” Jason called loudly. The men looked between themselves as if to confirm she was worth messing with Red Hood over, but continued forward anyway. “You know how I feel about people who take advantage of women and kids.” Their steps faltered slightly, but they must have thought their numbers would give them enough of an advantage.

Jason tensed for the fight, watching the men, calculating weaknesses and potential ins for him to exploit. He only looked away when Marinette laid her hand on his arm. He looked at her questioningly. “I don’t want anyone dead or hurt because of me,” she started quietly.

“Pixie,” he sighed.

“That includes you,” she continued, looking up at him through her eyelashes. “So be careful, yeah?”

Jason stared at her for a second before his chest puffed up. “They won’t lay a finger on me.” He smirked at her. She nodded and closed her eyes, taking a step back to give him space to fight. She flinched occasionally at the sounds of hits landing and bodies smacking into alley walls before sliding down to the ground and not making any more noise. After just a few minutes, there was no more noise except the soft sound of footsteps approaching. She relaxed at the sound, recognizing Jason’s footsteps.

Jason’s fingers brushed gently along the edges of her face, waiting for her to open her eyes. She slowly opened them with a weak smile. “All good?”

Jason nodded back at her. “Everyone’s alive and hopefully think my only interest was because a woman got beaten up, not who got hurt. So your cover isn’t blown.” He leaned in close to her with a smirk. “And they never laid a finger on me.”

Marinette’s smile, though still weak, became stronger. “Glad to hear it. And thank you.”

Jason continued staring in her eyes for a few moments before pulling away and reaching for her hand. “Can I give you a ride home? My bike’s just a block away.”

Marinette took his hand and squeezed it with a nod. He kicked one of the men as they walked past for extra measure.

His delivery service included walking her all the way to her door. She tried to tell him he could just drop her off at the sidewalk, but he insisted on making sure nobody was waiting for her. Marinette unlocked her door and turned to him. “Satisfied?”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to check inside too? Or just… you know, keep you company?” Jason asked. He leaned against the doorframe.

Marinette chuckled. “I’ll be fine. Good Night, Hood.” She knocked his helmet gently before closing the door. She took a deep breath as she looked around her apartment, dark and empty and alone. She let the breath out sharply. She turned around and yanked the door open, prepared to run after Jason. He couldn’t have gotten too far, right?

Instead she braced for him to fall on her when she found him blocking the doorway, apparently as startled by the door opening as she was to open it. Luckily, his arms were braced on either side of the door, or he would have fallen. His head snapped up quickly from where it looked like he had been leaning it against the door. “Marinette?” His eyes immediately scanned the room behind her looking for any threats.

Marinette fumbled for what to say. She hadn’t thought this far ahead. “I… would … um, company tonight would be good… because…” She looked down, searching for what to say when her eyes caught on some blood. “Cuts! I have cuts. And help… uh bandaging… them would be good.”

Jason’s eyes softened and he smiled slightly. He moved closer but kept a bit of distance between them. “I have a lot of experience with that.”

Marinette moved to let him in. He waited until she had closed and locked the door before he took his helmet off. “Where’s your first aid kit? I can grab it while you take your coat off and take a shower.”

“Bathroom under the sink.”

He nodded and walked with her into the bathroom. He grabbed the kit while she removed her coat. She tried unsuccessfully to contain her pained groan as she took off her coat, letting it drop to the ground, likely getting blood she’d have to clean later on the floors. Jason eyed her warily. “You sure you don’t need my help in the shower? You don’t look too steady on your feet.”

Marinette waved him off. “I’ll be okay. Might be the world’s shortest shower, but I’ll manage.”

Jason didn’t look convinced but nodded anyway. “I’ll just wait outside the door then. Call for me if you need help.”

“Maybe wait for me in the kitchen instead,” Marinette suggested. “I’m going to have to get to my room to change clothes.”

Jason nodded again. “If it will make you more comfortable.” He gave her one last concerned look before getting the supplies he anticipated using ready for them.

True to her word, Marinette’s shower was incredibly quick. He heard her padding into another room, which he assumed was hers before coming back out to meet him in the kitchen. He smiled at the adorable pajamas before grimacing once he noticed all the bruises and cuts that were now exposed.

Marinette crawled up onto the island and fought just collapsing and falling asleep. She closed her eyes and started to lean back, finally giving in. “Op, don’t do that, Pixie. It’ll help if you’re awake. Otherwise I’m going to have to strip you to make sure I got all the cuts.” He waggled his eyebrows at her. Marinette rolled her eyes but huffed out a laugh in spite of herself.

Jason smiled back for a moment before looking more serious. “But judging by the blood, you will have to at least take off your shirt.” Marinette groaned. “Yeah, not the way I wanted it to happen either, but I can see blood starting to seep through your shirt already so, it looks like there’s a few cuts that will need to be bandaged. We’ll save those for last though so you can keep your shirt on longer.”

Marinette watched him as he started carefully cleaning and bandaging her cuts. His fingers were significantly gentler than she would have expected. His face was the picture of concentration except for the mask still on his face. He looked at her questioningly when she giggled. “You going to keep that on all night?” Marinette asked tapping his domino mask.

Jason paused and slowly pulled the mask off, keeping eye contact with Marinette the entire time. “Better?” His voice was deep and husky and bordering on illegal.

Marinette froze for a second, putting all of her effort into not letting her breath hitch, she was suddenly very awake. “Much,” she nodded absently.

Jason kept his eye contact for a few more seconds before continuing to the cuts on her neck, arms, and back. Marinette let out a relieved breath when he finished with the last cut. She would finally be able to put a shirt back on. Sitting half naked in front of Jason, with her shirt bunched in front of her chest to protect her modesty, was killing her. Each touch of his fingers against her bare skin was sending tiny shocks to her heart. She didn’t know how much more of it she could take. But then again, now that he was done, she didn’t know what he was going to do. She didn’t want him to leave, but she needed him too. At the end of the day, and they were, in fact, at the end of this day, he was a crime boss and she was a hero. This couldn’t continue.

She opened her mouth to thank him and ask him to leave when she felt a gentle pressure against her newly bandaged cut. Her body overflowed with electricity, warming her whole body. Before she could even process it, he’d moved to the next bandage, laying a gentle kiss on it too. He moved up to her neck and she couldn’t stop the whimper that forced its way out of her mouth. He paused for a second and she could feel the smirk that spread across his lips.

He met her eyes and cupped her uninjured cheek before he leaned in to kiss her forehead. He let his lips linger for a few seconds on that bandage before he moved onto her eyebrow. He pulled away just enough to speak, his lips centimeters from hers. “You know, some of these cuts… they’ll need to have the bandages changed. You’ll need someone who knows what they’re doing to change them.”

Marinette nodded breathlessly. “Know anyone?”

Jason smiled. “I might have a recommendation.” He looked down to her lips and back up to her eyes. He took a deep breath and pulled away. “You need to get some sleep. Your body needs rest.” Marinette stared at him in shock. “Do you need help getting your shirt back on?” he offered quietly.

Marinette shook her head and he turned around while she struggled to get it back on. Jason almost turned back around a few times at the groans and whimpers she was trying very hard to contain. When the noises finally stopped he turned around tentatively. He noted the exhausted look in her eyes and decided he had definitely made the right choice not to pursue anything tonight.

“Come on,” he picked her up in a bridal hold and carried her to the couch. He sat down and placed her gently on his lap before wrapping his arms around her and leaning back against the couch arm.

Marinette pulled away and looked down at him. She blinked at him a few times trying to process what was going on. Her lips quirked down sadly. No matter how good his arms felt, no matter how magical his kisses felt, it all came back to one basic truth, she couldn’t be with him. She couldn’t support his decisions. She couldn’t stomach his methods. And he had no interest in changing them. “Jason…” she started.

A sad, understanding smile tugged at his lips. “Yeah, I know. Just for tonight. I’ll keep you safe while you sleep. Nobody will hurt you while I’m around.”

She gave him a bittersweet smile and laid back down on his chest. “Okay. Thank you.” She let his warmth and heartbeat relax her. After a minute she spoke up again. “No horror movies though.”

Jason laughed. “I would never,” he promised and held her closer, carefully avoiding her bruises. “I heard Marinette doesn’t like watching violence.” Marinette chuckled and nuzzled into his chest. She watched as Jason searched through the options, her eyes getting heavier with each passing second, the day, the beating, and Jason’s smell and warmth lulling her to sleep. She was asleep before he even selected the BBC Pride & Prejudice miniseries.

Bonus:

Marinette blinked awake and looked around. She didn’t remember getting to bed last night. She yawned and wrinkled her nose at the smell that assaulted her senses when she did. She jumped out of bed and immediately cursed quietly at how badly that hurt. She threw on a robe and made her way to the kitchen. She froze and smiled when she got there.

“Morning, Pixie,” Jason smiled at her. “How are you feeling this morning?”

She raised an eyebrow and leaned against the counter next to him. “I’m confused. I have a mob boss in my kitchen… burning breakfast for me.”

Jason scoffed. “I’m not… oh shit! It’s burning.” He frantically pushed the pans off the stove, glaring half-heartedly at Marinette’s laughter. “See if I make breakfast for you ever again,” he grumbled through a poorly concealed smile.

Marinette’s laughs lessened to chuckles. “Please don’t. I don’t have fire insurance.”

Continued in You’re Mine

Tags:

@jasonette-july-event @maribatserver @aespades @jayjayspixiepop

#maribat #jasonette #Jasonette July #Jasonette July 2021 #prompt - mob boss #Jasonette Mine

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fairyoftbz · 3 years

Text

a rewritten faith | l. juyeon

🪕 pairing: bartender! reader x cow-boy! juyeon 🪕 word count: 4k 🪕 genre: western! au, 1920s!au kinda?, angst to fluff 🪕 tw: mentions of violence, guns, fights, close death experience, deceased father, false accusations, swear words, the reader has some trauma 🪕 synopsis: you are the owner of the local saloon and something usual will happen, but it will take an unexpected turn. 🪕 a/n: i had this idea while watching a western film with my dad and i hope it's not gonna be too bad... 🪕 requested: no

╰☆☆☆☆╮

Your head turned to look at the entrance as the swing doors of the saloon burst open, two sergeants dragging another man inside, his face and body littered in bruises and cuts. He winced in pain as they shoved him against the counter not far from you, both giving him a hard slap at the back of the skull. With an attentive eye, you kept on polishing your whiskey glass with your used piece of cloth, watching everybody’s attention drawn towards the three men.

“You bloody bastard! Did you really think that you would get away with that? Raising your voice at Sir Landfield and seducing his daughter to use her for your own needs? Who did you think you were, the sheriff?” the entire pub erupted into a coarse laugh, some men hitting their pistol against the wooden tables to express their mockery. You, along with the waitresses, were the only ones to remain silent, your eyes darkening as you kept on drying your glasses. “I never touched Sir Landfield’s dau-” “Enough, bastard!” one of them yelled and punched him in the face, blood now oozing from the young man’s nose as his head swung to the side at the violence of the blow. He stumbled on the right, his wounded hand quickly grabbing the counter to prevent him from falling.

The church bells rang as it announced another hour of the day, the wind shifting some dirt and sand off the ground. Quickly glancing outside, you noticed a convoy drawn by horses walking down the main street, their whinnying getting louder as the man guiding them whipped their back and sides sharply.

“Gentlemen. What did your good-for-nothing do to our town? And what brings y’all in my father’s saloon?” you asked, the attention shifting from the culprit to you. You arched a brow as you slid the whisky glass you’ve just finished cleaning and another one across the counter, walking over the liquors to fill it for the men with their habitual orders.

“Ah,” one of them grunted. “This bastard thought he was the best in town and started arguing with Lord Landfield over some laws. He threatened him and even tried to get into his daughter’s panties!” one of them shouted as you poured alcohol into their glasses, noticing an arrogant smile plastered on his face. You didn’t like where this was going.

The culprit raised his eyes at you from his stool and observed you working, your orbs boring into his for a quick second before looking away to grab another bottle of liquor.

“Well, I’m pretty sure he had some good reasons to speak his mind to the mayor. Does he have a name?” you smirked as you placed a glass of herbal liquor in front of the soon-to-be-dead gentleman. He thanked you by a brief nod, and his face contorted into a grimace as he rose his glass to his lips, downing the drink in one go.

“He deserves to be hung by the balls, he’s from the Lees! Lee Juyeon! No one touches the mayor’s daughter like that except her husband!” the man on the left banged his fist onto the wooden counter, making everyone applaud and raise their glass at the idea.

Of course, you disagreed with their horrendous methods, but who were you to counter. Since you didn’t want to be the next in line, hung and burnt alive, you preferred to keep your mouth shut and observe.

“I never touched her!” exclaimed the-said Lee Juyeon but was quick to get shut up. “You don’t get to speak up, you piece of shit! If I said that you touched her, you did, end of the story!” Another man threw his fist right into the apparent lawbreaker’s nose, who immediately wiped his blood-spattered face on the side of his dirty shirt and spat on the floor.

You could tell that Juyeon was surprised by everyone’s agreement, trying his best to hide the fear in his eyes by clutching his jaw. One of the stablemen left the pub for a quick second before coming back, holding a long, white rope with a dirty smile on his face. Faces lit up in delight when he skilfully threw it in the air and swirled it around one of the massive wooden joists before tying a slipknot on the other end. The young man’s hand clutched around his glass, and he stared at you, noticing a hint of despair behind his two dark brown orbits.

You’ve seen many men and women in his state, but for once, you spotted something different. Sincerity, pain, and hopelessness could be observed in this man’s behaviour. He looked like he couldn’t hurt a fly, but you also knew that men were good at lying and being pitied when it was needed. However this time, for some reasons, you felt your heart pinch at the visible fear daunting the cowboy.

The men of law sat down at a table near the swinging doors and lit up their cigars thanks to the waitress’ matches, only to slap her butt as a thank-you. She giggled like a teen girl, which made you even more sickened by the situation than you already were, many people emptying the saloon in fear of witnessing death.

“Oi bastard, are you thinking of a way to shag the bartender before your sentence? She’s pretty cute, right?” one of the officers yelled as the delinquent’s eyes lingered on your working figure. You sent them a death glare, and they elbowed each other with a dirty grin, the idea of shooting them between the eyes titillated your mind for a quick second. “Try not to get us thrown out, she can be pretty rough, just like her father,” you heard them snicker, and you turned around to sigh and roll your eyes, trying not to get arrested either by ‘disrespecting’ them, even if it looked really tempting.

Abruptly, the oldest officer pushed a chair with his foot towards the young man, puffing some smoke out of his mouth, the action leaving a greyish trail lingering above their bald, dirty-minded heads. The stableman grabbed the man from the counter and forced him to get on the chair before shoving his head inside the slipknot and tightened it.

Exhaling sharply as it already happened too many times since your father passed away and bequeathed the saloon to you, you closed your eyes and looked away, mentally cursing the sheriff for choosing your tavern for doing such horrible acts of what they called ‘justice’.

“So, Lee, any last words before we shoot you in the head?” one of the officers insolently said as he expertly swirled his pistol in his hand, his other holding the cigar close to his mouth. From where you were, you could see the culprit gritting his teeth, trying to remain neutral.

“No, I don’t. Because I have done anything wrong, except expressing my honest opinion to the sheriff. And, as much as you want me to, I never laid a finger on his daughter,” the man spat confidently, only to have the two officers and some other men around the saloon unpleasantly shaking their heads.

“I can’t believe it. Even at the edge of death, he’s still willing to lie,” locking the cylinder before lowering the hammer of his revolver, the officer pointed his weapon towards the young man, who stayed as still as possible.

Everyone stared at the scene with intensity, some drinking their liquors or taking puffs of cigars like they were watching and enjoying some entertainment. The culprit was staring intensely at the officers, making them understand that he wasn’t scared of the gun nor facing death. You, on the other hand, were exhausted of those illegal actions and atrocious scenes that already happened when your father was still from this world. Luckily, he always made sure to give you to the tailor next door when such things happened, but it wasn’t really helpful since you became responsible for the aftermath at a very age.

They weren’t the ones that got rid of the dead bodies they shot inside your establishment, they weren’t the ones crazily rubbing the dirt and dried blood off the wooden counter or ventilating the building to get rid of the gory, metallic smell lingering around, nor were they the ones getting scared and sick of working in such sordid conditions. Some graphic execution scenes were still lingering in your mind even years later and shocking you to the point of getting sick and wobbly for a few days, getting flashbacks of the gun firing off. No matter how many people you saw dying in the saloon or while walking around town after witnessing some settling of scores, you would never get used to this sleazy, corrupted method of getting rid of people.

And this case was the last straw. You could not handle another bloody situation, where people would be cheering and happily exiting the saloon as if nothing happened, leaving you mortified and scarred for the nth time behind.

As the sergeant was about to pull the trigger, you were swift to get out your dad’s revolver from the small compartment under the counter and shoot the wooden beam in two precise bullets. The waitresses shrieked and the rest of the souls populating the saloon flinched, hands going to protect their head and ears. You shot the wood three other times to make some dust and pieces fall to confuse everyone, hiding some bullets in your corset before going around the counter and grab the man by the sleeve. Among all the panicked people trying to rush out of the saloon, you dragged the man out through the back door, letting one of the waitresses take the control of the saloon.

“Come on, we don’t have a lot of time!” you said out of breath, the muddy ground staining the pans of your dress with a dark brown colour. The man looked still shocked to have narrowly dodged death, catching his breath as your hands were fumbling with the knot keeping your horse close to the wall. Seizing the reins with a soft yet skilled hold, you were quick to slide your foot in the stirrup and swing your leg over the beast, extending your hand for the man to take it.

He messily placed his foot on the wooden fence and jumped behind you, his hand still in yours as the fence collapsed under his weight. You felt his jerky breaths fanning your neck as you commanded the horse to race off.

“Ya! Ya!” you angrily yelled, repeatedly squeezing your legs around the horse for it to go faster as you heard some gravelly voices lingering around the saloon. Your horse neighed and picked up the pace, its hooves hammering the dried ground of the main street as you bolted out of the town. “Lower your head, we need to go faster!” you yelled and the man obeyed, your heart pulsating in your temples as you heard some screams and people opening fire towards you, bullets going through a few wooden wains from the neighbouring houses.

“Sorry about the fence,” the man whispered and you shook your head, eyes still focused on the dusty road. “That’s the least of my worries right now. Hold onto me instead so we can lose them faster,” you spat and whipped the reins on the horse’s neck, the man’s large hands landing onto your waist. “What’s your name, by the way?” he yelled so his voice wouldn’t be covered by the horse’s noises, and you slightly turned your head to the side. “Y/N,” You simply answered, trying to ignore his hands on you as he was accused of inappropriately touching the mayor’s daughter and pushed your feet down the stirrups as you went up a hill.

The town was quick to disappear behind you as you hurried into the taiga, following the winding trail as fast as possible. The lawbreaker was still holding onto your waist, his hold strengthening as you didn’t seem to be ready to slow down anytime soon. The concentrated look on your face didn’t subside at all, sometimes looking back to make sure that you weren’t being followed.

Your heart skipped a beat as your horse jumped over the railway line, his hooves toughly landing on the floor as the way started going downhill again, the man behind you hitting his chin against your shoulder due to the force of the impact. He mumbled a quick apology, but you didn’t even hear it, the wind blowing in your ears preventing any sound to reach you.

You finally ordered the horse to slow down as you reached another dense forest, the air feeling chiller as the sun was struggling to get through the infinite branches of sharpened pine needles. You and Juyeon kept your head low, the latter pushing his hat further onto his head to protect his already severely injured face from the spiky needles. He let out a small hum of surprise when you reached a small cottage with a wide range of greenery surrounding it, not expecting someone to live here. The air was so pure and fresh that it almost hurt your lungs, with no sign of tobacco smoke or dust from the road to poison your inner organs.

Getting off the horse, you drew the gun out of your corset and removed the bullets, tossing the revolver on a lonely stump. The man recoiled at the sight of the weapon, but instantly relaxed as you went behind the cottage. He grunted in pain as he got off the horse, giving it a gentle tap and rub its muzzle. It snorted quickly and turned around, walking further into the greenery to relax from the intensive workout you went through.

When you came back, the cottage key in hand, your gaze fell on the man leaning against a trunk, dried blood and cuts still covering his face. His bottom lip was split open, and his cheekbones were bruised, eyes bloodied by the dust and the several hits he received from the men of law. You sighed as you stared at him, hand sliding in the key and unlock the door.

“Come in,” you said as you pushed the door open, walking across the room to draw the curtains out.

Juyeon slowly limped inside, eyes travelling around the small living room, falling straight on a chair after placing your dad’s revolver on the table, the wood creaking under the collision. He groaned in pain and closed his eyes tightly, his jaw twitching as he suffered in silence.

You gave him some privacy and walked to the kitchen, getting some wood planks and a bunch of herbs and weeds from one of the cabinets. Just like your dad had taught you, you lit up a fire in the chimney and hung a small cauldron to the chain. You stood back up, the room getting filled with a heavy silence, not really sure of how to act with a possible criminal in your secret home. He sighed and groaned in pain many times as you prepared a brew and some lukewarm water to freshen up.

His worried eyes met yours as you heavily placed a wooden basin with steaming water on the table next to him, your hands sinking a piece of cloth in the warm water and twisting it.

“Take off your shirt, I need to clean and check your wounds,” you monotonously said, and the man’s hands hovered above his top, hesitantly undoing the first few buttons while looking outside.

He gulped as he exposed his torso to you, your eyes widening in shock for a quick second at the state of it. He got beaten up severely, red, and purple areas already littering his entire thorax. The bruises looked excruciating and probably caused some inner injuries, hence his unnatural movements.

You quickly pulled his shirt away from his body and ditched it on the table, eyes now wandering around his arms. He was pretty muscular – you couldn't neglect the steel-craved abs embellishing his torso – but the cuts and wounds were critical enough to damage the view.

Starting by cleaning his wounds and body with the piece of cloth, Juyeon tried his best to remain still, but it got intolerable at some point. He started hissing and cursing – not at you, he was grateful that you were willing to put yourself in danger to save and take care of him – but more in pain, his eyes flooding with anger as he recalled the sergeants’ faces and their accusations.

“You know,” the man started through gritted teeth before groaning as the piece of cloth grazed against a sensitive laceration on his collarbone, “I didn’t touch the sheriff’s daughter. I'd never touch a woman like that despite what they want everyone to believe,” you quickly looked at him in the eyes and chuckled, your hand delicately grasping his wrist to lift his arm to clean the residues of the cut on the side of the torso.

“I think it’s impossible for you to do so,” your voice trailed as you focused on your task, the man questioningly looking at you. “How so?” “She’s on the other side of the world, probably a thousand miles away from us. Serena is a successful woman, she’s sacred to her father. You probably saw her mother strutting around town like she’s the next queen, which is something quite ridiculous but funny at the same time. Serena is the pride of the family because she got married to an Australian businessman and is now living like a good middle-class person, you know?” his eyes widened as you explained everything to him, his tongue clicking in frustration.

“Lies? I became the scapegoat of those assholes for lies?” you defeatedly sighed and shrugged as the man was furrowing his brows, getting upset. “Welcome to our town, I guess. It is how we, no they, make the peace reign there. We all know that nobody shouldn’t mess with the mayor, but I guess that you are not from here, so you miserably fell into his trap,” you offered him a compassionate smile and carried on with cleaning him, wiping your damp hands on your dress as you got back to the fireplace.

You came back with the cauldron, hands enveloped in the wet piece of cloth as you gently plunged it in the water, Juyeon flinching at the steam surfacing from the warm-cold impact. Your eyes focused on the plant-based mixture you had prepared to heal and sanitise his injuries, following your grandma’s textbook to the letter.

Juyeon groaned again at the warm solution being applied on his body, feeling his skin itch and burn as you kept rubbing the product in. He looked up as you focused on your task, now rubbing his arm while holding his limb with a certain grace. On your face, he could discern some sadness and exhaustion hidden in your features, his mind wandering to what possibly happened to you to be in this situation.

“And you?” he started with a more hesitant voice as if he was scared to frighten a deer, “what made you the bartender of this saloon?” your hand quickly stopped working but resumed almost instantly, but Juyeon noticed.

“Owner,” you corrected, and his eyes widened, an impressed look painted on his face, “I am the only survivor in my family, they all died from sickness or old age. I became the owner of the saloon as soon as my father passed away. He was in this horrible business, letting the authorities do their dirty work inside the bar, away from prying, curious eyes. Of course, since I am a woman and is only good at taking care of children and clean, they keep coming here no matter how many times I refused. I, fortunately, didn’t have to witness every single execution when I was young, but it still sends me into anxiety fits when it happens. I’ve seen a lot of people going through what you’ve just escaped from and it’s almost impossible to get rid of the flashbacks,” you briefly explained, feeling the tears well up in your throat at the mention of your deceased father and harrowing trauma, but you swallowed thickly and repressed your emotions, keeping a neutral face.

“S-Sorry, I didn’t mean it,” he mumbled, and you shook your head, wetting your hands in the basin to quickly get rid of any remaining substance. “It’s fine,” you emotionlessly said, hurrying back in the kitchen to get some time alone.

Juyeon didn’t mean to hurt you by stirring some hurtful memories, but of course, curiosity killed the cat. Thanks to you, he had escaped his humiliating death sentence, and all he did was unintentionally pressing the wrong buttons. Agonisingly, he gritted his teeth and closed his eyes as he got up, the room slightly spinning as he limped towards the kitchen to come to you. Your shoulders were heaving up and down as you attempted to muffle your cries and silence your emotions, not wanting to break down in a room with a man other than your father. It was one rule that you forced yourself to follow, not wanting to appear weak to anyone's eyes.

“I’m sorry, it wasn’t my intention to hurt you like that,” his cavernous voice resonated against the walls of the empty kitchen, making you wince and quickly wipe your face with trembling hands before turning around. “How could you know?” you said with puffy eyes, the sight squeezing Juyeon’s heart as you tried to give him what was supposed to be a reassuring smile. He slowly walked to you and took a gentle hold of your trembling wrists, his chocolate orbs boring into your own. The gaze that you had found quite intimidating a few minutes ago when he was angry against his attackers currently held something completely different. It wasn’t pity as you were used to when you brought up your past, but something more like compassion and tenderness.

“Y/N. I know I'm a complete stranger and a criminal in your eyes, but I wanna help you the way you did for me,” he started, and you stared at the ground, trying to get off his grip. “I don’t need help,” you mumbled, but he didn’t let you go, the grasp around your forearms tightening but still felt consoling.

“Yes, yes you do. Withdrawing yourself into silence won't solve anything, it will only give prominence to your sadness and scars and prevent you from moving on. You don't have anyone to talk to about it anymore, you keep everything to yourself and stay stuck in this state of distress. You helped me avoid death and run away, so let me assist you in breaking away from your past. At least allow me to try,” he whispered those words to you as if he was afraid someone else would hear.

Tears blurred your vision, something that didn't ordinarily happen when the discussion topic was your father. You always managed to hold back your tears, but for reasons that were still unknown to you, with Juyeon, it was like your brain allowed him to see your raw, true side for some reason, despite knowing him for less than an hour. Maybe it was the fact that he wasn’t from your town and wouldn’t be telling your secrets to anyone else to cause you harm or humiliation.

“One trauma at a time. You need to get some rest first,” you countered his argument by guiding him out of the kitchen, and Juyeon let out a chuckle, frustrated that you cared more about his well-being than yours. “Very well then, but promise me you'll let me help,” he asked as you walked him into the rocking seat where your grandfather used to take his nap when he was still in your life.

"We'll see," you whispered, helping him to sit down before giving him a small smile. He let go of one of your wrists and lifted your hand to his face, placing a kiss on the back of your hand while never breaking eye contact, the action of chivalry making your heart skip a beat.

"Thank you for everything you have done for me," He mumbled before kissing your hand again, his damaged lips curving into a smile as you let your hand linger in his, against his mouth.

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powercloud · 3 years

Text

At The End of The Day

pairing: tsukishima kei × reader

wc: 2.4k

genre: fluff, pining!tsukki

warnings: timeskip tsukishima, ooc tsukishima maybe(?) He's just so in love with you okay :(

The night was getting colder, the sky already a pretty shade of black, and the moon hung over their heads with a smile. Tsukishima took this as a good sign as if the moon smiling is a green light to pursue his plan. He looks over to you, your eyes distant and looking straight ahead, you were bracing yourself under the blazer he lent you. The view was astonishing. Under you and him the city was busy, flashes of light twinkling brightly, almost nearly outshining the bright stars above. The breeze was noisy as well, blowing your and his hair. But the warmness of Tsukishima’s heart was enough not to completely freeze him over, he was more worried about you though. But after a few stolen, glances he figured you were all right. The rooftop was your favorite, you've gotten used to it.

It's been silent between the two of you. You always fill in the quiet with your antics and puns and dumb realizations, but Tsukki supposes that’s why he was oddly fond of you after a week of knowing you first year in high school.

It’s been years since he concluded he was in love with you. Specifically three, but if he ever mentions the exact number he feels like a hopeless idiot. If he told you about that, would you call him so? He’d never know unless he confesses.

Tsukishima tightens his grip on the metal railings, his knuckles turning white. He bites his lower lip, nearly making it bleed. He’s nervous, he’s scared but he’s willing to push through it. All for you.

Tsukishima steals yet another yearning glance at you, this time his head snaps forward when you caught him red-handed cheeks turn a bit red before he sniffs and got a hold of himself. You laugh gently at his uncharacteristic expression.

“Something bothering you?” you ask, taking one or two steps closer to him. Any more he’d explode.

“Nothing,” Tsukishima lies. And you know this because you always have this certain facial expression where you’re unsure of his answer; one well-defined eyebrow rise, the bridge of your nose scrunched slightly, and your lips on a pout. You always were adorable when you were sure he was lying.

“Well, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” Sometimes Tsukki wishes you knew how close he held you in regard, how he won’t get upset if you push him further into questioning. Hell, he’d tell you the truth right away.

But you turn away, leaving him be and respecting his privacy, eyes back forward and thoughts miles away.

Tsukishima follows where you were looking, and he wonders what you were thinking. The future? The past? The inevitable fall of humanity and the universe?

Him?

Tsukishima would very much like to know if you’d thought of him. He won’t hesitate to tell you he’s thinking of you, too. Most days you never go away from his mind. He wants you to think of him right now as he’s thinking of you, too. But Tsukishima thinks that’s not the case. You never look so troubled when you were thinking of a person unless you worried.

Tsukishima nudges your elbow with his, and finally, he looks at you straight in the eyes, flushing lightly as always. “What’s bothering you?” He asks, his mouth in a straight line, seemingly uncaring.

“Nothing, just—” you sigh deeply, shoulders falling. Tsukki holds his breath, maybe it would be you that confesses? He always thought you liked him back. Tsukki waits as your gaze flutter from the city below then finally to his honeysuckle eyes. “I don’t know if I’d rather wake up in the middle of a war or the middle of a zombie apocalypse.”

He mentally slapped himself for assuming you’d be the first to say something sentimental.

Of course, he thought to himself disappointingly. On a daily, you weren’t even worried about important things like school or true love. You were thinking of choices you’d likely choose in a situation that would never happen, like the zombie apocalypse you mentioned.

You don’t think of me much, do you?

Tsukishima tries to hide his disdain. “I thought you said you had a plan when the zombies come.”

“Yeah, but I mean, like at the beginning of every zombie apocalypse movie, y’know. Like when they start growing in rapid numbers, and the panic rising out of people, the raging undead and their unquenchable thirst for human blood. As in the part where they just start flooding in.” you were very dramatic in using hand gestures. “I don’t know what I would do if that suddenly happened.

“That would never happen,” said Tsukki and you frown, and he smirks, always enjoying irking you. “Neil D. Tyson already said so.”

“Thank God. But still—if it could, what would you rather wake up in the middle of, Tsukki?” you ask him, leaning closer again and his heart palpates. “War or the apocalypse?”

He pretends he’s thinking hard, then he just shrugs nonchalantly, then you whine and tell him how he’s such a killjoy. If he were honest and cheesy, whatever situation he’d suddenly wake up to, Tsukishima wouldn’t hesitate to protect you in either one.

“Women can’t fight in a war, pick war,” Tsukki said, and he smirks again as you scoff and roll your eyes.

“You know how much I’m brave.” Oh, he knows alright. You were intensely afraid of heights, yet look where your favorite spot in the whole world is. “I wouldn’t think twice to enlist,” you said, chest puffed out. “’sides, it’s the 21st century, Tsukki, equality is much softer now. It's indulged..”

“And?” Tsukki encourages you to go on as it looked like you wanted to add something.

“War is worse than hell. I’m fine laying down my life for what’s right, but I’m not ok with children dying or starving, or widows crying over their dead husbands or wives, or old people going cripple. I don’t like seeing good people get hurt.”

God, you were always such a fucking wholehearted, good, kind, courageous, generous person. He loves you so fucking much it hurts to think you’d sacrifice your life for the people you don’t even know.

“Always such a martyr, aren’t you?” you punch Tsukishima on his shoulder. He only laughs at your feeble attempt to hurt him. When you push yourself away to frown again, Tsukki softens. “If you think those kinds of people don’t deserve to die you need to know that you don’t deserve it, too. Fuck dying for the country. Wars are bullshit.” Tsukki had to cut out the part where he’d say he’d want you to hide with him. Later, he tells himself, it's too early.

“Well, you’re not wrong,” you said.

“I have never been.”

“Shut up, jackass.”

“You first, dumbass.”

After a few petty insults are thrown at each other you both settle down with Tsukishima letting you win. He doesn’t care if you call him a salty bitch, as long as he gets to see you grin triumphantly after.

Then it was silent again. The wind was stronger this time. One blow and you gripped Tsukishima’s blazer and winced as you took the cold bite. Tsukishima wanted to wrap his arms around you to keep you warm, uncaring of the fact he was cold, too. Very. He had nothing else on besides his thick sweater, apparently not thick enough. Tsukishima wanted to lead you downstairs, back to the party which he’s sure has died down by now. It was nearly 2 in the morning.

But before you two could go he wanted to say something first. Confess before another perfect moment like this slips from his fingers. He looks at you, and you’re so gorgeous. Your hair is a perfect mess behind your head. Your cheeks are flushed, and you kept wetting your lips as the cold had dried them. The city lights shadowed perfectly on the half bottom of your face, the stars mirrored in your eyes. You were serene, too. Seemingly enjoying this time. This time with him.

It was either now or never.

“I love you,” he told you. Except he told the wind instead as another harsh blow blew on the rooftop. You and him wince simultaneously, but both for very different reasons. You hadn’t heard him, that was obvious, because you hadn’t as much reacted any differently. Tsukishima knows you weren’t pretending to not hear him either. Unlike him, you weren’t mean. You would even acknowledge the ignored person who tried to relay a message across a group with a curt nod, and an inviting smile—you listened, as Tsukishima was the reason for that person being reluctant in talking.

Tsukishima frowns, his heart falling. Above him, the smiling moon disappears behind a gray cloud, a red light. Maybe tonight wasn’t the night after all. Maybe no night was the night. But it would be stupid of him to give up after one try. Tsukishima would never forgive himself for letting you go so easily. He knows at the end of the day it’d always be you he loves. He knows he’ll follow his heart to you even though it would break sometimes.

Jesus, he thought. Love is frightening.

A few months later was another perfect moment to tell you Tsukishima’s true feelings. He had just come home from his night shift from the museum, coffee in his hands yet he was still tired and exhausted, but when he saw you sitting down in front of his apartment door, waiting, he smiles to himself.

Once you sensed him, you looked up from the floor you were sitting on, eyes huge and jade. Most people compare eyes to oceans or galaxies. Not your eyes though, they reminded Tsukishima of his favorite thing. Glancing down and his tiny plastic toy dinosaur, and then sliding further down to your green eyes. Tsukishima realized that’s probably why he felt so awake when he was with you. You were like a loud inspiring roar in the morning.

You had plans, you told him. There was a spot in the park, though you suppose it wasn’t even part of the park anymore. There was a forest, more natural than man-made, just beside the park. And when you were bored one day, you ventured through it and found the most amazing spot to view the sky. There were no outside noises, not another human has found it, you prided yourself in that. There were lots of pests and insects though, which was why you brought with you two huge blankets.

So there you two were, beneath the galaxy, feeling small and vulnerable to alien sight. But it was utterly beautiful.

The two of you lie on top of a small hill covered in grass and pretty flowers, there were trees around but it was a clearing where you and he were at. Looking up it was as if the sky was moving and the stars were burning bright. He held your hand shamelessly. And he thanked every God listening when you didn’t pull away, instead you wrapped it firmly as if you’d be taken by a UFO and he’d be your only grip to this Earth.

“Did you see that, Tsukki?” you asked, flabbergasted. You had to let go of his hand to prop yourself up and point to the violet sky. “I think I saw an alien ship!”

“They’re coming to get you,” Tsukishima said. Leaning on his elbow to snicker at you. “Their long-lost family.”

You punch him on his shoulders and he laughs. It’s been years but Tsukishima knows his saltiness isn’t going anywhere.

You lie down again, Tsukishima does the same but this time he can’t hold your hand, not when it's clasped with your other hand and laying on top of your stomach. He hides the fact he’s a tad bitter about that.

“Did you know,” you began, Tsukishima turns to you, intently listening because the stars have never captured him like the way it captured you anyway. What he felt about you, you felt in the infinite universe. Tsukishima’s fine being a close second. “Most people forget dinosaurs have ears because dinosaur ears don’t have bones.”

Tsukishima glares at you incredulously. First of all, how dare you question his lengthy knowledge about dinosaurs. Second, he knows for a fact that’s not true and that you stole it off a kid’s show you watch every fall.

“And that’s a rock fact!” you said, proud and overjoyed. But of what? You didn’t get to fool him successfully.

“No, it’s not, you idiot.” Tsukishima went his way to flick your forehead harshly. When he pulls his hand away you nearly bit off a finger.

Feral bitch, Tsukishima thought affectionately.

“Ok, fine, how about—” you trail off, a finger tapping on your chin, eyes darting from one dead star to another. “Most books on witchcraft tell you witches work naked.” Tsukishima knows which show you got this from off, too. “And that’s because most books on witchcraft are written by men.”

"Now, that I won’t deny.”

The two of you laughed lightly before looking back up again, heart alight. This time, Tsukishima stares at the stars, trying to find reason why you were so smitten with it as he was with you. He tries to find something in between the spaces of dead stars and see if there’s something like that in him, too. So that maybe you can love him as much as you loved the infinitesimal. He doesn’t find anything, unfortunately, he’s distracted by your harmonious humming.

“Tsukki,” his heart skips a beat. You say his name so magically it's hypnotic. He didn’t think he’d fall in love further just by the way you say his name.

“Yeah, y/n?” he cringes at how soft he sounded.

He looks at you, glazes over your direction to see you already looking at him. And his body is on fire. There was something different with you, with the way you look back at him. Something entirely different.

Finally, Tsukishima thought, staring deeper into your glossy eyes, you’re looking at me like I’m something you love, like I put the stars in your sky.

“I love you.”

And the moon in him explodes.

“I love you, too.”

And it’s the end of the day. You’re still and always will be the one that he wants

#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei #haikyu x reader

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uwuwriting · 4 years

Text

Todoroki, Shinsou and Iida protecting you

Request: Hello can I request todo, shinsou and iida protecting their girlfriend from cat callers or something like that? Basically her being in a really uncomfortable situation and even though she is a fearless hero in the field because of past trauma she freezes up in these situations? Thank you - anonymous

This post might trigger some people since they might have experienced something similar both in the cat calling and past trauma department. I’ve never really written anything so serious and triggering before so this might suck. I’m sorry in advance. So TW beware. Love yaa.💖💖💖

rules

warnings: trauma, PTSD, semi non-con but not explicit, cat-calling, harassment, ends in fluff

Todoroki Shouto

-Shouto is really protective of you.

-Not an overbearing type of protective, he just wants you to be safe and sound.

-Also he knew about your abusive past.

-When he shared his family background you shared your own trauma and history with physical abuse.

-It hurt him to hear you saying that someone you trusted, someone who used to be in his place, betrayed you like that.

-If he could find your ex and beat him to a plump because of how he scarred you, he would.

-But you reassured him that you were alright now, that he showed you what being loved felt like even though he himself didn’t really know how to love and that your past is what pushed you to be a hero.

-Your relationship lasted even after high school and now, one year into the adult world, you two lived together.

-It had been a tough day for your boyfriend at work, having to fight three major villain attacks and a mountain of paper work to tackle.

-Fighting along side you was the highlight of his day.

-He was the first to arrive at your apartment and had gotten to preparing dinner for you when his phone rang.

-You smiled back at him from the screen as he accepted the call.

- “Hey, love. I making so-”

- “Sho someone is following me.”

-He heard the panic in your voice and immediately turned off the stove walking to the door to put on his shoes.

- “Y/N where are you?”

-You gave him your location and he was out the door in no time.

-He kept you on the phone, talking to you, trying to restrain your panic.

- “H-he was outside of the pharmacy near the a-agency.”

-You never stuttered, oh god he was going to kill the man.

- “I walked past him and he grabbed my arm a-and pushed me on the w-wall. Shouto he tried to t-touch me.”

-He was running now, his rage making his quirk go crazy as flames rose from his left shoulder.

- “Baby I’m almost there, go into the convenience store on the corner and wait in there.”

-Your weak okay from the other line pushed him further.

-He knew how certain acts reminded you of your ex, even after all these years.

-They would send you into a small panic and even though you were one of the top upcoming heroes , you were still human at the end of the day your own past haunting you.

-He was always there to chase those fears and memories away, never letting them get to close to you.

-And now that’s exactly what he has set out to do; chase away the man who tried to hurt you.

-Rounding the corner he was met with a sight he wished to never ever witness again.

-It seems that you hadn’t made it into the store when he hang up and he slapped himself for not keeping you on the call for longer.

-He heard your sobs as the man had you pinned to the wall his hand trying to unzip your jeans.

-Shouto was fuming.

-Without a second thought he grabbed the man by his jacket and shoved him to the ground, grabbing your elbows to steady you before pushing you gently behind him as the man stood up.

- “Want a taste of her too boy?”

- “Get the fuck away from her!”

-Shouto kept one of his arms behind him pressing you onto his back as the other activated his quirk frost forming from his elbow to his palm.

-He could feel your trembling as you clutched onto his shirt, on of your hands grasping his own squeezing it.

-The man backed away at the sight of Shouto’s ice raising his hands in the air admitting defeat.

-Shouto however had other plans.

-Freezing the man on the spot he growled as he fished his phone out of his pocket and called the police reporting what the man had done and his location.

- “If I ever see you again anywhere near her I’m not going to be this kind got it?”

-And with that you two left as the police sirens sounded in the distance.

-Back in your apartment, Shouto helped you get undressed and then ran you a bath, wiping away the man’s touch and leaving small kisses were his hands used to be.

-He helped you get dressed in one of his hoodies and a loose pair of sweatpants before setting you down on the couch and ordering your favorite food.

-He heard your small sniffles and sat down beside you, bringing you on his lap and letting you cry it out, rocking you back and forth as he kisses your hair.

-You calm down after some time but Shouto won’t let you leave his embrace.

- “I won’t let anyone else hurt you ever again. I don’t care where I am you will always call me when something happens. I love you.”

-For the next month or so Shouto was at your beck and call, never leaving your side and even going as far to take some days off to spend as much time with you as possible.

-He kept his promise as he kept you safe for the rest of your lives.

Shinsou Hitoshi

-Hitoshi was there for you when he found out about how one of you family members had hurt you.

-He was there when you would wake up with nightmares while sleeping in his dorm.

-Or when you had panic attacks after someone came at you in a way that seemed all too familiar.

-He was there every step of the way.

-Hitoshi was really amazed at how you zoned in on your work and those thoughts never held you back.

-PTSD was hard to battle and even harder to deal with in a work place such as yours.

-After high school your panic attacks fell in numbers, leaving you to rest peacefully at night.

-Shinsou was sure he had chased your demons away, that you felt completely safe with him and that he would never see your trembles of fear ever again.

-But he was wrong.

-You two were out on a date, walking along the beach on a sunny day enjoying each others company.

-Shinsou went to buy you two ice cream leaving you to wait for him on a bench.

-You were minding your business, checking up with your agency to make sure everything is alright; after all it’s not everyday that your main two heroes are out of commission for the day.

- “Damn girl where’d ya get all that ass!”

-It came from a group of man behind you who were staring at you like a piece of meat.

-You tried to ignore them switching to your messages ready to text Hitoshi.

- “Those shorts look so tight on you sweetheart.”

- “I bet it’s not the only thing that’s tight about her.”

-You had frozen up at the nickname.

-It brought back everything you and Shinsou had managed to scare off, pushing them down your throat making your insides twist in disgust.

-He isn’t here it’s just some awful cat callers, Y/N calm down.

-You tried to calm yourself down using your common sense, separating the two situations and pointing out the differences, a technique Shinsou had taught you while you were still in high school.

-You were so lost in thought you hadn’t noticed the three men hovering over you, one of them reaching down to grasp your thigh.

-That’s when you started to tremble.

- “Aw look at her, she’s so excited..”

- “Let’s go have some fun pretty girl.”

- “We’ll make you feel so good you won’t be able to walk home.”

-You shoved the man’s hand away and went to get up only for an arm to snake around your waist pulling you back down on the bench.

- “Now now sweetheart don’t be naughty.”

-You wanted Hitoshi.

-You wanted your Hitoshi so bad right now.

-And as if you had summoned him, purple hair could be seen above the men’s heads.

-Shoving them off of you one more time you pushed through hitting Shinsou’s chest as he wrapped an arm around you.

-He pushed you behind his back before scanning the three men, leveling them with a glare so sharp it could slice right through them.

- “You better leave my girl alone before I get really angry.”

-The men scrambled to their feet before running off, terrified from Hitoshi’s structure.

- “Kitten! Kitten are you alright? Did they hurt you? Please kitty talk to me.”

-Tears ran down your cheeks and Shisnou just pulled you gently into his chest before telling you that he was taking you home.

-This man will do everything in the house after that.

-He undresses you and helps into the shower to clear their touch from your skin, then he dresses you in one of his large hoodies and lays you on the couch.

-He can see you are still trembling so he comes back and takes you into his arms before going back to doing whatever he had in mind.

-Now this is a scene to behold.

-Two of Japan’s strongest heroes are walking around their house cosplaying a panda and its bamboo stick.

-He orders take out and then lays on the couch, still having you on his lap drowning your sobs in his chest as he says over and over again how sorry he is for leaving you alone and how much he loves you.

-He knows you haven’t had an episode in what felt like ages.

-It really shook him seeing you so helpless and terrified again.

-He swore he would never see that petrified glint in your eyes.

-That was his new mission.

-And he was willing to do anything to accomplish it.

Iida Tenya

-Iida is well aware about how your ex had forced you to do certain things with him.

-He also knew how you believed that what had happened had been your fault.

-He had reassured you that nothing was your fault,that your ex was to blame and to never see yourself other than the victim in this situation.

-It hurt him to see you suffer so much.

-He had provided you with a shoulder to cry on and soon enough you two were together.

-When during your last year of high school, his comfort and words didn’t really cut it he encouraged you to see a therapist.

-And that helped you a lot.

-It untangled the parts Iida couldn’t reach on his own and coupled with his support you managed to pull yourself fully out of the whole that your ex had dug.

-Now Iida knew that somethings still triggered you.

-He knew what he should and shouldn’t do while you two are being intimate and what he should watch out for.

-So when you two are taking the train to visit Deku in his agency for his birthday and he feels you squeezed his hand a little too hard he knew something was up.

-You had buried you face in his shoulder, something he wouldn’t allow if you had asked, squeezing his hand as your breathing became uneven.

-Iida looked around expecting to see your ex somewhere thinking that he was the reason for your small attack.

-But he found no one he knew in the crowd.

-Then his eyes fell back down to you and from the corner of his eye he caught movement under your dress.

-Following the source of the movement with his eyes he was met with the lustful eyes of a grown ass man, his hand under your skirt groping and squeezing you.

-He saw his hand trying to separate your thighs and that’s when he fully snapped.

-Grabbing the man’s hand he shoved it in his chest before placing himself between you and him.

- “How dare you touch her like that? You should be ashamed of yourself!!”

-The whole train was looking at the man at this point and Iida could see how the vein on his forehead popped.

- “Being an adult, you should know better.”

-Others chimed in insulting and shaming the man while others asked you if you were alright.

-At the next stop the person got off a chain of angry comments following him out.

- “Y/N honey are you alright?”

-You buried your face in his chest and he let you stay there for the rest of the ride.

-He placed on hand on your back rubbing soft circles over your sweater and talking to you not allowing your thoughts/memories to creep further into your mind.

-He kept your hand in his for as long as you were away from your apartment.

-You would squeeze his hand every now and then, grounding yourself.

-Once at home late that evening he pampered you.

-He ran you a bubble bath and cooked your favorite food.

-He made a small pillow fort on your couch while you were in the bath and he waited for you to finish.

-The rest of your day and night was spent in your boyfriend’s arms never letting you go once.

-He provided his warmth and comfort.

-Just like when you were in high school.

TAG TEAM AY:

@iwaqchan @the-arcana-fan-fic @angelwritings @axerrri @reinyrei

#todoroki shouto #todoroki x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #mha todoroki #shouto x reader #todoroki x you #todoroki x y/n #shinsou fluff #my hero academia shinsou #shinsou x y/n #shinsou x you #shinsou x reader #iida tenya x reader #my hero academia iida #iida x reader #iida tenya #bnha iida #iida x you

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herstarburststories · 3 years

Text

You Have A Home

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Summary: After a call from Y/N, Sam comes back town to help -- and brings Dean with him.

Requests: N°1 heyhey, could you do a Sam x reader where they went to college togehter and later meet again and they realise their feelings for eachother...xx + N°2: can you do a college sam headcanon with medicine student reader

A/N: This was fun! The monster here is mentioned in season 6, when the boys ask Bobby for advice on how to kill it. This is my first Samgirl long imagine, with Dean being the flirty he is. I wrote this almost one year ago, so it's more crude and I'm nervous to be posting it! And my piece for @cajunquandary 's 600 challenge, my prompt was monster of the week. Dividers by @talesmaniac89!

Dean's eyes remained on the road when the bitter statement left his body, tangled with a wry chuckle, “I can't believe you are still in touch with those people.”

“Those people?” Sam arched elbows, slightly skeptical by his brother's tone, “They were my friends, Dean.”

“Sammy, all our friends? Dead. They all die. Or worse.” He glanced at him for a moment, pursing his lips together. It might not be an easy assignment, but was part of the job. Sammy had tried to run away plenty times and always came back, when would he understand? “We don't get to have friends. You should've learned that.”

“They are not our friends, they are my friends. Also, they don't know about the hunting life, they aren't in harm.” Sammy hissed once the other locked his green eyes on the road again. Dean sighed, moving one hand away and up from the steering wheel in a rendition gesture.

“Whatever you say, man. I'm just warning you, this doesn't usually end up good for them.”

Sam scoffed, Dean could get on his nerves sometimes, “We saved many people that got to have a good life.”

“Yeah, but those people didn't know us before that. I told you when you left Stanford--”

“I didn't keep contact, okay!? I just... I just still have a phone that they have the number of. No social media, no calls on birthdays.” Nervously gesticulating, he added, “I know how to keep them safe, Dean.”

“So, old friend?” The eldest Winchester asked after the few minutes of silence that followed Sam's outburst, “Female old friend?”

“Yes. (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” Dean smirked, and Sam to rolled his eyes at his behavior, “Keep it in your pants.”

He'd let out a malicious laughter before turning on the radio, the first guitar sounds of AC/DC playing in the background.

“I think you'll be the one not keeping it, Sammy.”

“Hello?” The woman in nothing but a towel who had opened the door greeted them with a question, her brown eyes glaring at the two men with clear confusion.

Dean had no shame to check her out, innerly celebrating that she was still wet from her shower. Perhaps visiting Sam's friends wasn't that big mistake. “Hey, you.”

She grimaced at Dean for two seconds before turning her attention to Sam again, sudden recognition written on her face.

“Sam? Sam Winchester?” He nodded, smiling that light-hearted boyish grin at her. Not caring about her dressings, she just threw herself at Sammy, hugging him tightly. “I missed you!” She pulled away only to hit his shoulder. Her short stature didn't match Sam's, but he'd still make a grimace at her attempt of slap. “Why didn't you call? God, your hair grew a lot. Listen, I have some scissors.”

“Tried that, didn't work.” Dean interrupted their reencounter, trying to get in the conversation. An usual lopsided grin on his face, “Dean Winchester, Sam's brother.”

“Layla, Sam's friend.” She gave him a friendly smile in return, opening space for them to pass through the door before closing it, “Come in, I need to change in clothes.”

“I wouldn't even dream of that. Seriously.”

Layla would just wiggle one of her brows at Dean's comments, not impressed by it, “Ele é sempre assim? (Is he always like this?)”

Thankfully, Sam still remembered a bit of his friend's native language. He just chuckled, managing to apologize for Dean's typical Dean behavior, “Unfortunately. Sinto muito. (I'm sorry)”

“(Y/N) is in the kitchen. I'll be right back.” Her accent was thicking stronger duo the comfortability around Sam. Excusing herself, the caramel skinned girl leaded upstairs.

“What did she say?” Dean asked, side glancing at the path Layla had just gone on, not even sure of which language she'd just spoken, much less what was said. Sammy didn't bother replying, satisfied to grin at his obvxion brother. “Dude, come on!”

“Sam!” A well-known voice filled the room as the image of (Y/N) appeared in front of them, dressing your loyal cook's avental. You didn't think twice before jumping on Sam. “I missed you, giant!”

He, like always, caught you with a light-hearted laughter, “I missed you too, cupcake.” You two spent a few moments like this, enjoying each other's warm and long lost touch, until Dean cleared his throat. You finally went back to the ground, embarrassed by having a stranger to see that level of intimacy between you and Sam, “This is Dean, my--”

“Handsome brother. Hello, cupcake.” Dean was so going to tease Sam for the rest of his life for it.

“You really live up for Sam's description.” You giggled, heading towards the kitchen “Come in, I'm baking.”

“So, you and Layla still live together?”

“Most of the time, yes. You know how she is, comes and goes. Never wanted to stay in a place for too long and got a job that supported that.” The boys followed you, Dean examining the kitchen and trying to discover what you were cooking through the smell, while Sam couldn't take his eyes on you, “Apparently, just like you.”

Even though your back was facing them as you checked the food, the bite didn't pass unnoticed, “I had to leave, (Y/N)”

“I understand that, Sam. But you never called or texted. It was like I--” You quickly corrected yourself, “We never existed for you.”

“It's not like that.” Sam sighed, how could he justify? He knew you wouldn't buy a simple excuse. You were smart, and knew him too well to swallow a 'I went on a trip with my brother and just decided that college wasn't my deal' and leave it for that.

“I'm here!” Layla declared, arriving into the room with an excited smile, it was good to have the gang back together. Although, the tangible tension almost made her go back to the shower, “Am I interrupting something?”

“A sitcom DR.” Dean answered with sarcasm, spreading his figure on the chair when you turned around with an apple pie in your hands “What about we talk about the ca-- Is this pie?”

“We heard a scream followed by a loud roar and (Y/N) stayed near the camping part because there was still a signal and I went looking for who it was. When I got there, the thing ran away. Jorge's body... No human did that. His chest was cracked open irregularly, as if it was done by an animal and his heart looked weird. Like it was squeezed and drawn on up somehow?”

“We got a Samia.” Dean stated, relaxing on his spot. Some sault, rosemary and fire would do the job just fine, “Let me guess, it left a clawn near the body or inside it?”

Layla nodded, “Right in the chest or what lasted of it.”

“Are you okay? Finding the body in that state.” A comprehensive manner englobed Sam's question, whom noticed the normality with his friend described finding a shattered body.

“Just some guts.” She shrugged, a grimace was all the reaction they'd get. Crying wouldn't help, neither being terrorized as they expected her too. “I've seen Grey's Anatomy enough not to care about it.”

“Well, I'm literally a medicine student and I am still not okay with that. Especially after you made me go and check the body.” You argued, glaring at your best friend who'd only roll her eyes in response.

“I needed a professional to say if he was dead or not!”

“You need a therapist.”

Dean got up, looking straight at Layla. Time to play the hero in shining armor, “Don't worry with that, we will take care of it.”

Frowning, you were the one to respond, “Do you work for the police now or?”

“Are implying that we investigate it by ourselves?” Your best friend added.

Dean couldn't believe his brother. How the fuck did he let them get inside without saying they didn't know about the hunting business? It was a luck shot that they didn't think much when he said Samia.

“Nope. Not you two. We will do it.” The blonde one said, pointing at them with a smirk.

“I agree, we will do it.” Layla replied, matching his taunt smile.

“Sam, I'm not letting you and your brother do it by yourself. Jorge was my professor, I knew him. Besides, we found the body.” You got on your feet and crossed your arms, waiting for a response. Sam always had a sort of hero complex, ready to help no matter what, but there was no way you'd be letting him go into danger with his brother. Getting in your dormitory to kill a cockroach back then or facing an idiot during a bar fight to protect one of your friends was something, but this? They were talking about looking for an assassin. What if something happened to him? You were the one who called. All on you. The thought of Sam getting hurt for any reason was unbearable, but because of you? You weren't willing to do that.

“You would be in danger, (Y/N). You both.” He tried to explain, internally hoping you'd accept his reasoning and let it go. Sam didn't want you to become one of the friends who knew about this life, you deserve more. He already lost one woman he loved in this city, he couldn't lose another.

You huffed in frustration, “Just like you will!”

“It's different.” As he was terrified of, you insisted. Arms crossed still and eyes locked with his, determined to get something from him. Sam was smart enough to know that you would keep it going. Perhaps he could give you a short explanation, “Me and my brother, we are used to this. We hunt things like that.”

Layla tilted her head to the side. The way Sam talked remembered her of animal hunting, although she highly doubted that was the case, “Little more explanation?'”

“Monsters are real. Vampires, werewolves, spirits. The list goes on. Call us crazy. Roll the credits.” Sarcasm saltered every word of Dean's as he gestured up and down with a cocky smile. Everyone glared at him, a special furious look from his brother, “What? I thought they knew what we did and that's why she called.”

“Sam?” Your voice was fragile when you said his name, a demonstration that you would believe him through the fear of the truth, but that he had to say it.

Sam laid his hazel eyes on you. God, how he wished he didn't have to confirm anything, to break your vision of world so abruptly, “Dean is right. Supernatural things are real. I know it sounds--”

“Unbelievable? Problematic? Scary?”

“Yeah, all of them.” Sam offered you a humorless smile, then holding your hand the way he used to when you were nervous about an exam, “But I wouldn't lie to you, cupcake.”

The silence was broken by Layla opening a bottle of Whiskey, pouring them for the three people in the room besides herself. You rolled your eyes at your best friend, while Sam wore a tiny smile and Dean was astonished.

Noticing the eyes glued, the latina just shrugged “What? If you are gonna tell me that Dracula is real and you are a sort of Buffy's apprentice, then we will need some alcohol.”

“Why did you call?” Sammy asked, his brows knotted together, mouth slight open as he waited for your response. “You didn't know what I did. And he wasn't my professor at Stanford. Then why did you call, (Y/N)?”

You could make up a hundred excuses. Lie and say he was the one friend besides Layla that you had somehow a way to get to. Appeal to the excuse of 'I felt something weird about the death and you said I should call if I ever had a problem of any kind'. But for as much as you felt horrible for using a death as a pretext for calling him, that was partially the truth. You already had put yourself into a mess of monsters and a drained heart, it couldn't be scarier than being honest to Sam and to yourself.

At least, you hoped so. But your heart was rushing like when you saw Jorge's body. Jesus, when did love become so morbid?

You took a deep breath, oxygen barely achieving your lungs, and then started to talk.

“I wanted to call you the minute that you left, Sam. I almost did a million times.” You answered, looking down at the bottle of a sort of plant that he was putting in a dark green bag. “I thought about what you could be doing, what was so important that you couldn't send me a message. But you just didn't want to call, I guess.”

“I wanted to call, of course I did.” You scoffed at his statement, looking up to match his eyes, “(Y/N), I'm serious.”

“You didn't even come to Jess' funeral, Sam. Layla said that maybe you needed to leave to clear your mind, that was too much to deal with. But I was so worried, and sad and confused and I wanted to talk to you because you would understand, you always did. About anything. And I wanted to give you some sort of comfort, but--” You lifted your hands and shrugged your shoulder, a broken chuckle leaving your body. “But you weren't here.”

“You stopped leaving messages after two weeks. Calling was gone when it made a moth.” You sniffed. Sam's lips curved into a pure, cautelous grin. God, he was always so sweet. “The emails took two months.”

“You were never good with dates. I gave you a calendar in your freshman week.” Your teeth met your lower lip. He didn't answer, only nodding at your affirmation, omitting the fact that he still had the calendar between latin books and pieces of newspapers, “Yet, you remember all of it.”

Sam leaned forward, holding your hand with all the delicacy you would expect from a sculptor. It had been too long since he hugged you, and his touch made all your skin tickle with warmth. “I missed you too, (Y/N). I thought about you all those years.”

“So, Cupcake?”

"Let's focus on the case, Dean."

“Then you can go back and eat your cupcake?” He remarked with a grin. His brother just huffed, pointing the flashlight through the trees, “So, Layla…”

Sam rolled his eyes, like he usually did when Dean started being too Dean for his liking, “Dean. The case.”

Before he could make another teaseful comment, a roar invaded their audition. The hunters gave each other a quick glance before heading towards the direction of the noise.

Shaking the salt and rosemary mixture in his hands, Dean smirked, “That's it. Time to shine, cupcake.”

“I have to admit. Being patched up by a doctor is better than by Dean.”

A surprised, half relieved laughter came out your body as you finished another stitch on Sam's arm. That boy was unbelievable; openly talking and making jokes about his brother, who was also being patched up by your best friend in company of a bottle of whiskey, while he spoke about Layla's name being a rock song. You were working on a large wound on his shoulder-- which you were sure that was full of dirt from the forest.

Medicine student, but I'll take that complement.” You winked at him, gaining a soft grin from Sammy, “I was expecting more blo-- Why are you smiling? I'm touching a recent wound. It doesn't look dangerous, but I'm sure it is supposed to hurt. A lot.”

Sam's answer came out easily, the bare, vulnerable truth: “I'm happy you are here.”

You looked at him, his hair longer than before, but the soft simper remained on his face. You bit your lip to hold a giggle; her heart dared to hope. What he expected when he said things like this? A quiet contentment spread through his expression while he watched your reaction.

“You should have come home sooner.”

His mouth formed a line, “I don't have a home, (Y/N). It's just Dean, me and the road now.”

“No, Sam.” Shaking your head lightly, you intertwined your fingers with his. His life was dangerous, you couldn't afford the luxury of waiting even more to share what you had finally admitted to yourself in the moment he walked through the door. It didn't seem like the easiest, simpler situation. But the only hard thing you couldn’t go through was to be away from Sam Winchester. He lingered on you for years, you were done letting him run away. It was time to hold his hand and walk together. “You should've come home sooner. To me.”

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oksana-moods · 3 years

Text

Ghost of you - Part 5

Summary: When your answers doesn’t fill in the blanks properly, the only option is to move forward. A/N: Two in a row, ‘cause I’m nice like that. Thanks for those who left comments and likes, reblogged and gave me any kind of support. You’re amazing! I mentioned that this would be slow burn, right? Trigger Warnings: Violence, language, mentions of death… If you find others, let me know.

“And all the things that you never ever told me.”

My encounter with Fury left me felling scarred and open. I knew a name; I knew who I used to be. I knew things about me, but they felt so foreign, like they belonged to someone else. Maybe, because it did. I wasn’t Lara, but was I Ghost? Later that night, I was assaulted with the woman’s… no, Carol’s crash, Carol going away scenes once again. My head was an utterly turmoil. It became obvious that my memory from Carol leaving, our brake-up, came after the accident and not in the sequence that Hydra played in my mind. Bastards. They led me to believe that I was useless. That all I was authorized to feel was void, emptiness. What did I feel, now? Besides this rage masquerade as fire, what was left to feel? What was permitted?

I looked at the door as soon as I heard the locks. Romanoff enters my accommodation and I get up, not too fast to not startle her. “Miss Romanoff, fancy seeing you here without bodyguards.” She glares at me. “Thought didn’t worth the effort to protect them.” She’s flashes me a tide smile. “It came to my attention that you’ve met Fury.” I nod. “So, how should I call you now?” She takes two steps closer and leans at the table. “Lara? Or do you still prefer Ghost? I shrug “All of them makes me uneasy. None of them seem to fit.” “Hm. Maverick then.” “I never said that this one was good either.” “Well, we need to call you somehow.” A grin is scaping her lips. “We?” I blinked and she was looking at me from the door frame. “Come. I’m afraid that you’re starting to rust.”

Agent Romanoff didn’t want revenge, but she definitely wanted payback. And God, that woman is almost too fast for me to keep up. Almost. After being in my accommodation for so long, I was indeed a bit rusted. However, my muscles loved the exercise, and it did wonders to my brain. Fighting against such good opponent kept me focused on our spar. First time in days that I stop to think and overthink about my misery. Romanoff came with one of those Widow’s combos that I menage to dodge and block a few, but one kick reached my shoulder while her elbow found my temples.

All of a sudden, I’m standing in a bar. My mind’s eye was caught in something like a foggy screen and oh my, is this a memory? I had a drink in my hand while the other one was resting in a sling. I was feeling like shit, so much sorrow coursing through me, all I could… I feel a slap in my good shoulder. I look up to see a tall man offering me a pool cue. ‘Come, the winner gets free beers.’ I look at my drink while I say. ‘Thanks, I’m good. I’m not in the mood.’ He nudges me. What part of mood, he didn’t catch? He speaks. ‘Oh c’mon, Mav. Danvers’s accident is tragic and all, but c’mon… or are you just sad about your injured arm?’ Fire starts to spread throughout my chest. ‘Excuse me?’ He leans in the counter. ‘Look, all I’m saying is that you guys weren’t even friends, none of us were. She was too cocky. Guess Miss goody two shoes couldn’t even drive a car, let alone fly a jet.’ The fire was consuming, was bursting out of me until it reached its peak. Complete forgetting about the sling, my hand moved to the back of his head so, so fast. Next thing I knew, I was knocking his head in the counter. He looks up with his nose covered in blood. ‘Bitch!’ He charged at me. He knocked me down and my head hit the floor, but I needed to put this fire out, I wouldn’t stop now, I needed to vent my rage. I failed in protecting her from dying, but I sure won’t fail in protecting her memory from this scum. After exchanging punches and kicks, I held him in a chokehold. ‘Never, and I do mean never talk about her like this, Specht.’ I looked up to see an audience. ‘I’ll kill anyone of you who dares to speak of her.’ I let go of him and left the bar. When reality finds me again, the first thing to reach my ears is Romanoff’s voice. “Maverick, are you alright?” “Yeah, I’m good. Why?” She scoffs. “I hit your head and then you stop fighting, kept looking nowhere, like in a trance.” “Oh. I… I’m sorry.” Her voice is softer when she speaks again. “What happened? Do you need me to call, Bruce or Dr. Cho?” “What? No, no. I’m fine. It’s just… I had a vision, I don’t know.” I rub my temples to ease the pain in my head. “I think that I saw a memory, after you hit me, in a moment I was here sparing with you and the next I was in a bar having a bar fight with a man.” “You were a fighter even before, huh?” She joked and I shrugged. “Are this visions or memories assaults a common thing?” I frown trying to make it simpler. “I’ve never had another memory except being left behind and the Crash in a loop. Guess I’m just confused. Do I need specific triggers to remember things or is this my brain fighting Hydra’s brainwashing?” She gives me a look that I can’t decipher. “I’m sorry all of this happened to you. Let us help you.” “Help? With what? Will you guys erase my memory again?” “How long will take for you to start to trust us? We won’t hurt you.” Trust? Her question caught me off guard. How can I trust, when I don’t know what trust is? “I want to believe in you but all that I know is Hydra. Guess I’m afraid of this being just smoke and mirrors.” Her brows were so furrowed that probably hurts. “It’s not. And I’m here to help.” I narrow my eyes at her “Why are you being nice to me?” I open my arms to show the sparing room “Bringing me here, offering help… I’m the enemy, Miss Romanoff.” She shakes her head. “No. You were a victim who were weaponized, yes. Nothing, but another casualty.” I’m still not convinced, and she knows. “Look, Fury trusts you and I trust Fury. Remember all those Hydra’s bases and facilities that you gave us?” I nodded. “We paid a visit to a few of them, the intel you gave us matched so far.” “Does this mean you’ll let me go?” I asked. “Do you really think that you would be safe out there?” Her green orbs are boring into mine. I sign, looking away. “Stark’s Tower is one of the safest buildings in this world.” “Then, what are we?” What am I, prisoner with benefits? A smirk makes its way to her lips. “The enemy of my enemy…”

Surprisingly enough, Romanoff led me to the tower’s kitchen and offered me a sandwich for lunch. I’m a bit uneasy with this interaction, don’t know how to act, don’t know what to expect. I take my surroundings to mentally calculate an escape route, she knows the place, but I believe that I could fight with her if she tries to kill me with a butterknife. She doesn’t try to make small talk and I’m glad. To fight, survive and punishments are the only interactions that I’m used to. I don’t know how to function in a normal life, if that exists.

I recognize a newcomer, Captain America in all his glory. Romanoff puts a plate in front of me while speaks. “Hi, Cap. Joining us for lunch?” “What is she doing here, Natasha?” “Everything she told us matched so far, Fury trusts her. Since she’s helping us against Hydra, I’m willing to give her the benefit of doubt.” “If Black Widow is willing to trust you...” He offered his hand for me to shake. “I’m Steve Rogers. Captain America if you will.” I took his hand in mine. “It’s a pleasure, Sir. I’m… hm.” I let go of his hand, suddenly I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. “I don’t know how to introduce myself.” A humorless smile grace my lips. “Guess Hydra never taught me that part.” “I think we should call her by her call sign. Maverick.” Widow supplies With a shrug, Rogers says. “It’s catchy. And if I called you Major, you’d outrank me.” He whispers the last part “I wouldn’t like that; Tony could use you against me.” The Redhead sitting next to me let out a heartly laugh which is soon joined by Rogers’s and I’m mesmerized. So, this is how people function in daily basis. I always wondered if being caged in a dark room waiting to be called for missions was only my reality or everyone’s. Guess that seeing them here, so relaxed having a meal in a wide kitchen with a meaningless conversation was answer enough. I’m amazed how light, how comfortable they seemed to be with each other. I wonder…

“Mav?” I’m brought out of my reverie by Romanoff’s voice. “Sorry, what?” “I said that your intel about anti-aircraft weapons were crucial to help us reach Hydra’s bases unscathed” Rogers says. “Didn’t thought they would have so many.” “As I told miss Romanoff before, everyone was paranoid. Even with all the guns, defenses, and secret locations. Nothing could ease their fear. Now I know that they were afraid of you.” I chewed a bit. “Have you guys closed all the ones I gave you, already?” “Not yet. We’re looking for something. So, we’re choosing our targets according with your intel and ours.” I looked at him. “What are you looking for?” This was a sensitive subject, if his subtle shift was any indication. He was uneasy to share this with me. Couldn’t blame him, though, I was still enemy. An acquaintance enemy, but still. “It’s a high-tech device. Extremely dangerous, especially in their hands.” I didn’t miss the way he chose the word ‘their’ indicating that I wasn’t part of ‘them’ and I appreciated the gesture. This device tough… “There is a lot of facilities build for experiments. Those were the ones always exchanging data, research, personnel…” I was deep in thought. “But there was this one in Sokovia. They were always asking for more subjects, or volunteers as they called.” I wet my lips. “I was ordered to be the stealthier that I could, my hole unit stayed there. I was the only one to come back.” I looked up to him. “Have you guys tried that one, yet?” “Sokovia?” He repeated. “No, there’s little to none about Sokovia in our files. Isn’t an old building with ancient, abandoned equipment and vehicles?” “There’s nothing old and abandoned in Sokovia, mister Rogers.” I rest my fork in my empty plate. “On the contrary, they are the busiest. They’re just keeping an incredible low profile.” He turns to Romanoff. “Nat, contact the team. We’re going on a trip.” “Don’t forget your jacket.”

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

Apparently, Sokovia was a huge success with a very big H, because I was invited to a party, by Tony Stark himself. Now, my dilemma was increased, if I didn’t know how to act in a simple conversation. How do they expect me to function in a party, with their friends and a lot of them knows who I am. Plus, I’ve never been in a party. This is bound to be a disaster.

Yep. I was right. There was a crazy robot giving a speech about Avengers being nothing more than killers. Then, all hell broke loose. I’m fighting killer robots in a fancy party room. Without thinking, miss Hill handled me a gun. Guess that ‘the enemy of my enemy’ is really a thing around here. In the end, my metal arm did more damage. As soon as Thor’s hammer crashed the last robot, the party was over.

#cap marvel #captain marvel #carol danvers #carol danvers x original character #carol danvers x reader #carol danvers x fem!reader #captain marvel x reader #age of ultron #ghost of you #infinity stones #natasha romanoff #Ghost #original female character #original character #marvel fanfic series #marvel x reader

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parkersharthook · 3 years

Text

Love For All

Peter Stark-Rogers & Stark-Rogers!reader (twins)

warnings: mentions of drinking/being drunk, pretty fluffy

1.8k+ words

series masterlist

a/n: happy pride month (lol I queued this in february just so I didn’t forget to post it) anyways im bi and pls know my page is a safe space for everyone 💗💜💙

Fluffy piece where Tony and Steve are chosen as the grand marshalls for the pride parade and it becomes a family affair.

“this just in, you all officially have the coolest dads in history!” Tony bellowed as he dramatically entered the common space, Steve right behind him with a plethora of eye rolls.

Right as you were about to protest, Bucky chimed in, “neither of you are my father.”

“with the way I’ve saved your sorry ass? Might as well be.”

“saved my sorry ass? Oh Stevie, have you forgotten who pulled your ass out of every back alley fight you got into? Or have the years 1932 to 1941.”

“I did not start a fight in 1932!” Steve argued back, hands placed firmly on his hips.

“bullshit! 5 years old, playground 2 blocks over, Arthur Williams.”

Steve frowned slightly, “damn I forgot about that.”

Beside you Peter snorted, “you got into a fight when you were 5?”

“Wow darling, you came out of the womb with righteous indignation didn’t you?” Tony added with a small smirk as he moved to rest against the back of the couch.

Steve threw his hands up in defeat, “oh haha laugh it up. Yes I’m old, yes I’m stubborn. Can we please just go back to how we’re cool?”

“Wait before that, back to the ‘not my fathers thing’ does this mean you see yourselves as the team fathers? Because if you’re adopting more people, I want in!” Clint said cheerfully.

“Sorry we capped out at four.”

You stuck your tongue out at Clint with a little ‘ha ha’ because you were mature like that. “anyways… why do you think you are the coolest dads? I wanna get my rebuttal in soon.”

Tony bopped the back of your head playfully as he dropped a very rainbow piece of paper into your lap. Peter instantly leaned into your space to read it. You pushed him back with a shove to the forehead. “relax nerd I’m gonna read it out loud.”

“hurry up I’m getting antsy.” You threw an unimpressed look at Clint who had practically crawled into Bucky’s lap to get closer, not that Bucky minded.

“Chill.” You smoothed out the paper and held it up, “All hail the next Grand Marshals of NYC Pride, Tony Stark and Steve Rogers. We are happy to formally announce the two superheroes and super husbands as our fearless leaders of the float parade this year.”

“That’s the public announcement they put out, turn it over to read the letter they sent us.”

“Dear Mr. Anthony and Steven Stark-Rogers, we are so excited to welcome you into our NYC Pride Parade family. As this year’s appointed Grand Marshals it is both our duty and pleasure to pass the Pride Baton over to you. Included in this letter you will find the rules and expectations of our Grand Marshals, as well as what is permitted for first floats. We would love if you extended this invitation to your entire circle of family and friends to join you in the parade and on your float.”

You put the paper down and tilted your head back to stare at your dad, “you? Grand Marshal? Really?”

“What’s so shocking about that?”

“umm…. You’re old and not cool.”

Bucky sputtered a laugh beside you as Tony bopped you on the head again.

“Was this your way of telling us to come to pride with you?” Peter asked.

Steve shook his head as he flopped into a nearby loveseat, “actually this was our way of telling you that we need your help coming up with ideas for the float and how to decorate it. But of course we want you to join us on the float, we’ll be inviting the rest of the team as well.”

“I’ll help decorate but Bi-derman is making another appearance this year.”

Tony slapped his forehead, “can you take your old suit at least? The paint was a bitch to get off last time.”

Peter rolled his eyes, “the old suit chafes.”

You grimaced, “I hate this conversation.”

“I think you should do a dog themed float, Lucky can be our mascot.”

Bucky sighed, “of course that’s your suggestion.”

“what about the history of pride? Recognizing the Stonewall Riots and the two black transgender females that started it all. Plus then we can also advocate for Black Lives Matter. Make it clear that to support one, you have to support the other. Educate and entertain.”

Tony smiled, “that’s not a bad idea y/n.”

Steve looked at you with hopeful eyes, “are you willing to help organize and coordinate?”

“can I invite friends to help?”

“yes.”

You smiled, “then yes.”

------

“when I said organize and coordinate, I didn’t mean take over the conference room we use regularly for avengers meetings.” Steve said with a deep sigh

“it’s the only one with a vending machine.” MJ helpfully pointed out, taking another large bite of her pizza slice.

“yeah it was the only way to get Clint to sit through meetings without leaving to get food.” Steve explained as he stepped into the room and took in the large array of papers everywhere. The four teenage girls that occupied the room were all busy with one thing or another, looking intense and determined.

MJ snorted, “figures.” Her hand ghosted over the page again, dragging the pencil with it and creating another addition to her sketch.

Steve’s brow furrowed for a moment and he took a step closer to get a better look, “is that me?”

MJ nodded coolly but offered no other explanation. Betty huffed a laugh, “we’re trying to design both you and Mr. Stark crown-like head pieces.”

“crowns?”

You rolled your eyes, “Pops, you really do only hear what you wanna hear. Crown-like head pieces. I know dad would go for a full ass crown but I knew you wouldn’t and we want you two to match.”

Steve studied the photos of celebrities that were projected on the wall. “and that?”

“The 2018 Met Gala. Theme: heavenly bodies. There were a bunch of great head pieces that night, we’re using it for inspiration.” Gwen supplied, “let us know if there’s any you like.”

“I wanna go in a Cardi B direction.” You stated without taking your eyes off your computer screen, you’ve obviously already committed every possible headpiece to memory.

“don’t taint his selection with bias!” Betty cried

MJ waved her off easily, “there’s no way he knows who Cardi B is.”

“thanks for the confidence MJ.” She just smiled cheekily at him.

“I think he should choose something like what Frances McDormand was wearing.” Gwen stated with a small smile

MJ laughed, “as much as I think that would look amazing, there’s no way he’s picking that.”

“who’s this?”

You barely had to glance at the photo to recognize the red and gold dress and of course the iconic headpiece, “Black Lively.”

“Okay well I like that, it’s simple.”

“what about…” Gwen drawled as she typed something and new photo, a larger one, took over the whole wall, “Something like SZA’s?”

Steve took a step back and grimaced slightly, “it’s kinda… big.”

“But if it were smaller?” Gwen pressed politely

“I suppose.” Steve glanced around at the four girls. “You guys have a lot of stuff planned.”

“Oh yeah.” You looked up with a big grin, meeting your dad’s eye. “It’s gonna be great.”

“You’re not designing us costumes too are you?”

“Well Tony specifically said not too and that he already had something planned.” MJ said before eyeing Steve up and down with the critical eye of an artist, “But we could design something if you wanted us too.”

“No, I kinda of already have a plan too.”

You rose a questioning brow, “oh yeah? Please tell me you’re not going to be wearing something boring.”

Steve rolled his eyes at you and obnoxiously bumped his hip into your side as he walked out, “I’m not clueless on how to dress for Pride. Plus, I like dressing up for it, it’s fun. And it’s not something we got to do back then. I’m planning on taking full advantage.” And with that he walked out dramatically and closed the door.

Betty laughed slightly, “ten bucks that he paints the shield.”

Gwen shook his head, “No way. I think he’s gonna wear one of the flags as a cape.”

MJ clicked her tongue, “I know for a fact he’ll be wearing his ‘trans rights are human rights’ shirt.” Pause. “and probably his rainbow pants.”

You looked at MJ with a perplexed expression, “why do you know about my dad’s rainbow pants?”

MJ smirked slightly, “he wore them to pride a few years ago. Plus, me and peter talk about things. You’re not the only Stark-Rogers twin I hang out with.”

Gwen obnoxiously nudged Betty with her elbow and a large wink, “Oh yeah… she talks to Peter.” MJ scowled at the two as you snickered behind your hand.

MJ grumbled slightly, “let’s just get back to work.” It was silent in the room until the three other girls heard MJ mumble, “I never have to deal with this at college.”

You burst into a fit of laughter.

------

Pride was without a doubt a 100% success.

The float looked great. The area had already been swept for trouble. One Grand Marshal was moderately drunk. And Everyone was dancing and partying. Perfect.

Even the float attendees looked great. Clint was the brightest of the all. With no shirt on, glitter all over his chest, a rainbow tutu around his hips, tight purple booty shorts underneath, knee high socks with the pan pride flag on them, plus his signature purple converse… he looked good.

You’ve been snickering every time you catch Bucky not so subtlety looking Clint up and down. But that being said, Clint was doing the same to Bucky because he had someone managed to get the stoic and whiney super soldier into a rainbow button down. Nothing else, as that wasn’t Bucky’s jam. He paired the shirt with simple jeans but you were sure that he would be covered with glitter later.

Peter had been swinging around the parade, his first Stark suit now painted a vibrant pink, purple, and blue. Plus there was a large, messily painted on heart over where the spider sat in the middle of his chest.

You and all your friends had taken up the dance floor on the float, and if you said so yourself, you all were killing the dance moves.

Tony was more than tipsy because Bruce was on babysitting duty tonight for Morgan, so he let himself go and lean heavily against his husband, who just grinned at him all lovingly.

In the end, it was a good day. You threw beads and candy to the crowd, joining them at times for drinks and dance parties. You laughed endlessly with your friends and your family. And yeah… it was a good day.

Plus, all your friends had been correct.

Steve wore his trans shirt in solidarity with the ongoing movements and the float.

He wore his rainbow pants because they were “super fashionable y/n” and to support everyone.

He painted his shield purple, blue, and pink to show off his own sexuality and support Peter.

And he had a pansexual flag tied around his neck to match with Tony’s pink, yellow, and blue shirt.

He looked great.

#marvel #spiderman #reader #peter stark rogers #peter parker #superfamily #reader insert #peter parker & reader #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #superfamily fanfiction #superfamily imagine #reader fanfiction #reader imagine #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagine #stark!reader #stark-rogers!reader #emma writes

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may-day-voice · 3 years

Text

Haunting Sour Notes

Denki Kaminari's Timeline | 172732014

please do not repost, but you have permission to reblog :)

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"Why won't you tell me?" questioned Kaminari, following you around his apartment while you paced with heavy steps. "You've been showing signs lately."

"Signs?" you retorted with a derogatory smirk. "Me being scared of storms is a sign?"

"No, I mean, Mon Ange-"

"Kaminari," you interrupted, your tone stern. "I messed up yesterday. Tell that to the Head Agent."

He watched as you slumped onto one of his armchairs in the large space, looking away from him while you stared out from one of the large windows overlooking part of Endor Docks. The morning was calm while you slept, but as soon as you woke, he found you distant almost immediately. You refused to say a word, not a peep, as if you were still mute.

And then, this argument, empty of reason.

"I'm going to report all that I know from last night," explained Kaminari, soft and calm. "And I know you didn't mess up, but you have to tell me these things about you. Things that I still have no clue about."

"It's better you didn't know," you replied, still with your eyes away from his.

"Why? I can't help you if you keep blocking me out."

"Then take me back to the Commission. Put me under arrest. What good am I if I'm not helping your case?"

"You're a good person, I know you are!" yelled Kaminari in retaliation, his frustration growing.

"How do you know?"

"You took that blow for me back when we first met. Not any villain would do that. You may have your reasons, but that shows me that you are willing to put yourself on the line when it counts. And here I am, trying to understand you outside of the fame and the secrecy, and you-" Kaminari stopped himself, holding his tongue while he stared at your upsetment, seeing the glint of tears that forced their way in the corner of your angry eyes. He could see you holding back before he was about to spill, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves.

"You told me back at that golf range-"

"Putt-putt."

"- that you wanted to make amends. Why won't you let me help you do that?"

You looked into Kaminari's eyes, filled with confusion and anger while the frustration in his voice was evident. Of course, anyone who would be treated this way would have every right to feel these waves of emotions, but this was your life. A life shouldered with the haunting memories of your actions, and of the people you surrounded yourself with. At the time, you thought nothing of it, but now, these memories were not even worthy for someone like Kaminari to hear.

"They're not yours to shoulder," you answered. "And I'm more afraid of you getting involved further in the matter."

"What do you mean? I'm already involved," explained Kaminari. "I know enough to understand that you're trying to stop the Front, and that this General is someone to be feared."

"But you don't know the implications of knowing her. I don't want you to get hurt."

"So, it's a she?" he asked, only earning an exasperated sigh from you.

"I've said too much," you mumbled under your breath, turning your eye away from him once more. You held back the tears that you felt pricked your eyes, spotting the murkiness cloud your vision a little. You rubbed your eyes in an attempt to rid them, but they only continued to spill.

Kaminari hesitated with his next few thoughts, eyeing your expression and the cross look on your face.

"Speaking of which, aside from all of this, there was something else that bothered me," he started, keeping an eye on your reaction. "Last night, you wouldn't say a word. Or, you couldn't. Can you tell me what that was about?"

You bit your lip, hoping the sharp pain would hold off the tears that spilled from your eyes. Every word he spoke felt like a knife in your chest. You recalled last night, almost vividly, innocently writing those words in paper. The fear returned, like it did long ago. You turned your eye away from Kaminari knowing that the overwhelming sadness rippled under your skin.

"Are you sick?" He asked.

"Non" you whispered.

"But last night-"

"Forget last night. I was a kid, I didn't know any better."

"That's not true."

"Will you stop?" You turned to face him, your eyes cross and your anger now swelling inside, replacing the pain and guilt. "Stop the questions."

Kaminari stared into your eyes, fueled by hurt and anger as if he had done an injustice. Confused by your sudden outburst, he slowly approached you, his hand out to reach yours until you violently pulled it away.

"Just go," you ordered. "Leave me under house arrest and go do your job." You turned your back on him, your eyes now staring out towards the docks, watching boats in the distance.

Kaminari said nothing. You heard nothing before the sound of footsteps made their way towards the sliding front door, shutting in the empty apartment. You held onto your arms, trying to comfort yourself before you sank into one of his chairs, head on your lap, silently weeping.

Kaminari made his way to his car, seating himself in the driver's seat before he turned the ignition. He was silent, still processing your reaction and how distressed you were with him. He sighed heavily in exasperation, recalling his treatment of the situation beforehand when he slammed his palms into his driving wheel.

"Dammit," he cursed under his breath.

RING

"Hello?"

"Hey Kaminari, catch you at a bad time?" Asked Sero on the other line.

Kaminari eyed his front door, still his mind on you. "No, was about to head to the Public Hero Commission building."

"I need to talk with you about a few things first. Meet me in the city's park in half an hour?"

Kaminari thought about his request for a moment. He hadn't heard anything from Sero since the mission last night, recalling his sudden leave of absence. Perhaps something had happened during all the mania. Maybe another clue in this mess of a situation.

"I can be there in twenty if you can," advised Kaminari.

"No rush man, but yeah, gotta talk."

Kaminari pulled his car out before taking it off from the docks, heading straight into Musatafu. If he wasn't going to get to the bottom of this one way, he hoped he could find success through other means instead, even if that meant not involving you in the process.

Besides, there was a lot he and Sero needed to talk about, he thought.

——

Hours had passed since the argument and you had filled your time reading books for who knew how many rounds you had given them the light of day. However, none of them took your thoughts away from Kaminari's concern. Yes, you lashed out violently at any mention of your past - a thing you had tried to bury many times before, and thought had succeeded. Yet the events of last night, of your fears, your illness, your childish reactions to everything Kaminari was able, it felt hurtful.

The guilt returned knowing of your spiteful tone. And yet you heard nothing from Kaminari. He only left you alone. The thought of this morning replayed in your mind like a broken record, as cliche as it felt. It only made that knife sink deeper in your chest, one made by your own doing.

You knew Kaminari was right, that you had to tell him one day why you did what you did, with the secrets, the charade, and your insistent need to run away. The pain of knowing how many souls you had harmed along the way seared in your mind, like a branding that had scarred the very nature of your life. You were a thing, a tool to be weaponized, even so that whatever goals and purposes you thought were true, were now a stain.

This bodyguard business wouldn't last forever. The Commission would have their way eventually, leaving you with nothing left. Leaving the warmth and comfort of Kaminari's hospitality, patience, and determination, despite his almost goofy and dorky disposition.

Sunlight had now passed over the docks, casting a small shadow along Kaminari's apartment. The skylight itself created a spotlight of the sun's rays in the centre of his lounge. Everyday you've stayed here, you would often stand in the centre of the skylight, pretending it to be centre stage, twirling in its radiance. However, it burned your eyes today, still sore from the tears that sprung after Kaminari had left.

A moment of clarity cleared your mind, as painful as it felt, before coming to the conclusion you needed for yourself and for the sake of Kaminari; a man who had offered you a home despite it being under the Commission's jurisdiction; a man who had only accepted you for who you were, regardless of the actions you had taken in your dreadful past.

A man who comforted you, who tried every means to understand you.

"Sorry, roi de la fee," you whispered to yourself, swimming in your head from all of the painful thoughts-

SMASH

Glass shattered onto your skin while your arms shielded you from the shards that sprayed from the windows. It happened all so sudden, immediately taking to your feet to flee from the now destroyed windowpane. Outside on the docks, a group of men stomped into the apartment, rushing towards you with open hands.

"Grab them!" Yelled one before you felt their hands clutch onto your clothes and skin, grabbing hold of you while they slowly dragged you outside, fighting against your resistance.

"Let go of me!" You yelled, slapping one in the face, while kicking furiously in the air.

"Quickly before someone spots us!"

Amongst the chaos, you pulled against their strength, your flailing limbs swinging violently in the air hoping they would hit anyone nearby. Mid-swing in your violent resistance, you elbowed your assailant in the gut, enough that winded him to release you from his hold. You didn't think, you just ran, scrambling back into the apartment while being chased by the men behind you. You huffed and panicked, pushing any large object in their way to slow them down, whether it were chairs, lamps, or anything of the sort. You only had eyes for the front sliding doors, crashing into it before you pulled against its weight to slide it open.

The spill of the sunlight caught your eye first, blinding your already sore eyes from your tears until a silhouette painted against it, blocking your exit. The height caught you off guard until you recognized the man's long top hat and soon his mask once your eyes adjusted to the light.

"Long time no see, Sirene," he cooed playfully before a glint of something caught your eye in his fingers. You heard the smirk in his voice, turning around to flee from him. But as if time had slowed, you felt your body pull into a void, sucked into the familiar glass marble before you crashed into its glass surface.

"Let me go!" You yelled, your voice bouncing off from the walls, slamming your fists against the thick panes. "Laisse-moi sortir!"

The large shadows skewed by the glass shifted every so often while you felt the inertia of Compress' movements holding onto the marble you now resided in.

"So Dabi's little pet was right after all," he commented, his voice loud yet muffled by the glass. "I should congratulate them on their deduction skills. It's not often we find defectors."

You still slammed your fist fervently against the glass, hoping that you could break through, though you knew it was futile to try.

"Ne me ramène pas!"

Your cries were ignored when it suddenly went dark. Surrounded by the black, the sound of shifting and crunching glass echoed loudly before the rumble of a car's ignition reverberated through the glass space.

You felt truly lost.

How did they find you? What went wrong? In the dark all of these questions found their way to your head, recalling the few times you had carefully managed to keep yourself under wraps. Hiding in plain sight, behind a moniker and a pre-generated face. Making use of the fame to counter every move the Paranormal Liberation Front would possibly be able to exploit. Yet in turn, you exploited others in order to right your wrongs.

And then, there was Kaminari. The few times he had been warm and welcoming. The times he had shown his vulnerability, and his strength. The times he had trusted in you by sharing a part of his life with his friends, all Pro-Heroes to a degree. Everything about Kaminari was like a home, now only realizing this in the dark.

You felt your tears return, trapped wherever Compress had held you captive. The car ride was a one way trip, back to your past, back to the Front, back to the cold table where the General would examine you again, and again, and again.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry... Please forgive me, Kaminari."

——

Kaminari stood by his warehouse apartment, staring blankly at the shattered glass and rummaged furniture inside. Police tape surrounded the building while crime scene investigators carefully traversed through the mess, numbering evidence after evidence of the now labeled crime scene.

His meeting with Sero was more a cross-reference of notes on a few topics of discussion - Sero's current predicament with the thief as well as his encounter with Seek, at least before either of them would report it to their agencies and the Commission. However, Kaminari's eyes loosely scanned the floor, eyeing the fallen armchair, the glass and the open front door on the other side across the way, but you were nowhere to be found.

"I'm sorry dude," slowly spoke Sero, eyeing Kaminari sadly and unsure what else to say.

"No, don't say that," he retorted with a shaky voice. "This is my responsibility. I should've put the anklet back on. I didn't think." He stared into the apartment, spotting the device still sitting on the corner of his kitchen counter inside. His body trembled with anger and regret, holding back tears of his own while he recollected the argument this morning.

"Chargebolt, thank you for your cooperation in this matter," spoke a fellow agent, her voice calming. "I'm sorry about-"

"No, what have you found?" Interrupted Kaminari, his eyes straining from spilling tears.

"We've retrieved your surveillance footage for what it was able to capture and came across this during the invasion." The agent held a pad, its screen revealing the front end of Kaminari's apartment while the event played. He watched you run through the floor towards the front door, disappearing out of frame until moments after a familiar silhouette appeared, his top hat clearly recognizable.

"Wait a minute! That's Mr. Compress," he exclaimed, grabbing the pad from the agent, glaring at the screen.

"When did you ever have a surveillance system installed?" Questioned Sero beside him.

"We arranged it when we hired him for his services," answered the agent. "It was... precautionary."

"Right."

"How did the Front find out about this?" Questioned Kaminari, his voice shocked.

"We're trying to determine that now," immediately replied the agent, taking the pad back from Kaminari. "But it would be worth noting that we also spotted this onscreen as well." Taken back by the agent's words, she rewound the digital footage on screen, playing through the end of Kaminari's argument up until the moment the anklet began blinking a light. "Someone switched on the anklet's tracker."

A silence was shared between Kaminari and the agent, however Sero looked between the two, confused on what revelation occurred amidst the conversation. "What's so strange about that?" He asked. "Kaminari would've wanted to know where they were."

"I didn't turn it on," explained Kaminari. "Because that mechanism doesn't work unless the anklet was already attached to the person in question. Why would I turn a tracker on if it wasn't on their ankle?"

A multitude of thoughts ran through his head, his eyes darting while he mulled over possible reasons before-

"Who else knows?" he asked, his eyes stern while he stared at the agent.

"Um... only the three of us," she replied, a little taken back by his forwardness.

"Good, keep it that way. This may be an internal affair. I want you only to report to me about this and no one else, got it?"

"But sir, I can't-"

"Please, just trust me," reasoned Kaminari. "If Red Riot and Persona trust your judgement, then I do too." He held his golden gaze on the agent before she nodded, taking the pad and leaving to continue the investigation. His thoughts mingled about, hoping it wasn't the worst case scenario that he imagined in his head. By instinct, he reached for his phone, searching on speed-dial to immediately bring it to his ear.

"Wait, who're you calling?" Asked Sero, slightly anxious of Kaminari's sudden burst of energy.

"Shinsou, we need to speak with his partner about this. They've been following that guy's trail this whole time, right?" explained Kaminari, still waiting.

"Yeah, but how is that going to help?"

To be frank, Kaminari didn't know how to answer that question, but his anger needed to be redirected somehow. He felt the guilt weigh heavily on his shoulders, imagining all of the scenarios that could have played out if only he had made these seemingly available decisions. But time was now against him.

"What is it, Kaminari?" spoke an exhausted tone on the other line.

"Shinsou, we need to meet up. Sero and I have some information that may be important to your case," explained Kaminari over the phone call, his eyes on Sero only to notice his reaction, slightly fervent to quiet Kaminari's request.

"Really? Which one? I've got my hands full with the Tartarus case, and Kitten..." Shinsou's voice trailed at the thought, leaving the phone silent in Kaminari's ear. "Is it about that guy?"

"Yeah, it's about that guy last night," confirmed Kaminari, his eyes still on Sero who had now resigned to Kaminari's actions. "But something else has come up. I'm sure you're going to have a field day with this."

#denki kaminari #kaminari #kaminari x reader #bnha #bnha au #pro heroes #bnha angst #bnha fanfiction

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everlastingdreams · 3 years

Text

Weeping Monk x Reader : Playing With Fire chapter 4

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Story Summary: The Huntsman, that is what they called your brother. A name he had earned by hunting down the fey for coin. Coin that is given by Father Carden for his services. You refuse to stand aside and watch how your brother hunts down those who are fey. When you start to warn the fey camps your brother wishes to attack, you find yourself behind enemy lines. But when the Weeping Monk becomes suspicious of you, you realise you are playing with fire.

Notes: Gonna give you another chapter today. I wanted this to feel natural. Reader’s character will not like or trust him for a long time.

Chapter Summary: You unfortunately find out that the stories about the Monk’s fighting skill are true. The Monk hears you say something to him that he knows will haunt him.

Warnings: Death and voilence.

Word count: 1789 words in this chapter.

Chapter: 4/ 30+ something (buckle up, it’s a wild ride.)

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A voice you did not recognize awoke you from your slumber. You jolted up to see a man threatening the Monk. The man poked him with a strange three pointed weapon, the Monk's eyes opened. An eerie feeling krept up on you by the fact that the Monk did not look suprised that there were now fey surrounding him. In that moment you should have known that this was what he had meant by being 'useful' to him and what his plan had been. “Josse !” The boy sat up wide awake now. The man, Josse gave an affirmative nod towards the boy “Squirrel, you all right ?” Squirrel quickly nodded, looking visibly relieved. Then Josse looked at you as he probably wondered why the Monk had taken you as a captive as well. The situation must have looked suspicious to say the least. You knew the Monk had no indecent intentions with you but the fey standing around him did not know that. “And you, Miss ? You all right ?” Josse asked visibly worried, and one of the other fey's came to free you but you pointed to the boy. Gesturing that they should free Squirrel first and they went over to the boy. “I'm okay..” You quickly nodded and kept your eyes on the Monk. Your brother had told you stories of the Weeping Monk's skill, and you knew your brother always minimalised another person's talents. And what you were told was still impressive, so you watched with wary eyes as they pulled him from the ground to tie his wrists together. “I think we've caught the big killer. Look at the eyes.” Josse pointed out to the other fey. “Shed a few for us, brother.” The fey who tied his wrists mocked. With each passing second you grew anxious, they must of heard of his reputation. Why were they stalling ? Why didn't they just kill him ? Josse looked at the fire “Get me a nice red on, Grim.” A smirk tugged at the Monk's lips when he understood what they were thinking about. “Ever been dragged by a horse with a hot coal up its bum ?” They continued to threaten him and you got up on your feet. “Not that I can recall.” He deadpanned, and that is when you knew. You knew what his plan had been, why he had dragged you and the boy through the forest. He looked calm but you could feel the tension cutting through the air. “Just kill him, Josse !” Squirrel spoke wise words. You decided to speak up “If you wish to kill him, stop stalling ! Torturing him will only give him the chance to kill you !” Josse ignored your words, which would prove a terrible mistake. “What did you have in mind for Squirrel, you sick bastard ?” Josse then looked in your direction “What was your intention with the girl ?” he glared at the Monk as he questioned him. The Monk looked behind him, towards you, his expression unreadable under the shadow of his cloak, He turned his attention back on Josse “I've got no interest in the boy...or the woman. They're bait.” Your heart dropped at his confession, confirming your fear, Josse furrowed his brows, still unaware of the impending doom “Bait ? For what ?” His horse brayed and the Monk spoke to it “Be still, Goliath.” A shiver went down your spine as he spoke the next words in a whisper to Josse. “For you.”

The Monk attacked the first two with incredible speed, killing them. The other fey had barely any time to react when the fight broke out. The Monk moved fast in the darkness. Like a shadow dancing through the night, leaving only death in it's wake. It was over so quickly, an eery silence now loomed over the place. Even the boy was completely silent now. The darkness of the night covered most of your sight from the now lifeless bodies on the ground. Still you sat motionless in shock, tears welling up in your eyes. A cold chill went down your spine when he turned in the direction of the boy. You started to pull on the rope that kept you near the tree, too far to reach for the boy. "No ! Stay away from that boy !" You shouted, it was futile as the Monk walked to the boy and pulled him to his feet. Keeping a hold on the boy as he held his sword near him. "Get away from him, you paladin bastard ! He's just a boy !" You pulled on the rope, which caused your wrists to redden again. The Monk looked once in your direction, then he looked down at the boy. "Tell your fey brethren what you saw here. Tell them I'm coming." Then he cut the ropes from the boy's hands. The boy fell to the ground, looking up at the monk towering above him. "Go." The Monk commanded and the boy looked in your direction. You nodded to him and mouthed 'run', the boy still hesitated "Please, run. You promised me !" You pleaded with the boy. The Monk turned a little in your direction but did not look at you, he was looking at the boy. Watching him to see what he would do, and then to your relief the boy scrambled to his feet and ran away.

You let out a breath you had been holding in. Relief washed over you knowing that he had not killed the boy. You almost couldn't believe it. The famous fey killer let a fey boy go, why ? You doubted Father Carden would approve of this. The relief you felt was soon replaced with panic when you saw the Monk turn in your direction. It was futile but you still tried to break free from the ropes. You started moving out of his reach around the tree. He stalked towards you and stopped your desperate attempts at escaping your dire situation. He took hold of your arm, stopping you from moving around the tree. "Let go off me !" You snarled at him. He avoided your bound hands as you tried to hit him. The Monk cut the rope that held you close to the tree and pulled you towards him with your still bound hands. Was this it ? Would he kill you now that you were no longer useful as bait ? When he tilted his sword up you could see the fresh dark grimson stains on the steel. The inner conflict he felt in that moment was hidden by his stoic expression. Letting you go would be a risk for himself and killing you would endanger the alliance between Father Carden and the Huntsman. A part of him also admired you, admired how you were willing to sacrifice yourself for the child. You. A human. The sister of the notorious Huntsman who truly enjoyed torturing his victims. All of this.. for a fey boy. He found himself willing to take the risk.

"You tell anyone about me letting the boy go, I'll tell Father about how you tried to save a fey." The Monk warned. "Why would I tell anyone you let the boy live ?!" You spat the words at him, utterly confused. It confussed him. Even though you were trying to save the boy, you were still the Huntsman's sister. Knowing that he was sparing the fey children could be used as leverage by you and your brother. There was a unspoken mutual understanding that neither of you would gain something by telling on the other, nothing good would come of it. He pulled you closer towards him by the ropes on your wrists and was quick to avoid you trying to elbow him in the face on purpose, he gave you a warning look in return. “Why are you doing this ? You let the fey boy go, but kill the adults ?” You tried to tear yourself away from him. "We're saving souls." He parroted the words Father Carden had fed to him during his upbringing. "No." You looked him dead in the eye and spoke through gritted teeth "You're damning your own." His expression changed but it was gone in a second. His jaw clenched and he avoided looking at you. He tilted his sword up and you tensed when you noticed it. After what must have been a second but felt like minutes he cut the ropes from your wrists. You glared at him, tears still stinging in your eyes. Then you did something both of you had not expected. You slapped him. Hard. After seeing the fey being killed in front of you, your anger was boiling over. Yet you felt instant regret for slapping him. You did just hit someone who was clearly a lot stronger then you and who was armed. You gulped, you knew you should just run but you felt yourself freeze on the spot. And you doubted you could actually outrun the bastard.

It was unknown to you that recieving the hit had caused the same reaction for him. He froze. He had seen you tremble yet you still hit him the second you had the chance.

He had expected you to run the second you had the chance, looks like you were braver then you appeared to be. He rubbed a hand down his jaw that was on the recieving end of the slap, still not looking at you. He hated to admit that he felt shame, but it was not for the fact that you had managed to slap him. No. It was the shame for his actions that he kept burried under the promise of salvation for him, for the fey. He was doing God's work, this was his road to salvation. It was you, moving just a tiny step back that snapped him out his thoughts. "Go." It would have sounded threatening but he did not sound angry. He did not even sound like he was irritated. No, he sounded almost conflicted and you stood there frowning at him, unsure if you had heard him right. You did not move and he knew he would have to say something. "Go. I will not inform Father of this. You and the boy were never here. Understand ?" This time he looked at you. You stared at him, only managing to just nod before running off in the direction you had seen the boy go. The Monk watched as you ran in the direction the boy had run, knowing that your words would lingering far longer then the sting he felt on his cheek.

@itsjustjenna @thesneakylittleminx @ourlazydetectivekitten @the-great-adventures-of-me @linkpk88 @mixedchicaq @boredoomfm @soccmoss @fxrchxldws @rogershoe @elenaoftheturks @slytherlight @beananacake @tanyaherondale @lancelotapricot @captainbucky-yt

#weeping monk #The weeping monk #cursed weeping monk #weeping monk x reader #weeping monk x you #lancelot x reader #lancelot x you #cursed percival #lancelot percival #Cursed Netflix #cursed fic #cursed #green knight #weeping monk story

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shelby-love · 4 years

Text

JAY HALSTEAD

#2 Alone.

Requested: yes

Prompts: none

Warnings: soft angst but with a cute ending

Authors note: Here is the long awaited part two! Hopefully you'll enjoy it as much as you enjoyed the first one xx

PART // 1 //

"So...you're mad at him for leaving?" Gabby asks you. She had already knew that you were a bit mad before you even told her what happened.

But mad wasn't the word you would use.

"I'm not mad!" You fight back. "I'm... Disappointed."

Gabby stays quiet for a second.

"I need him right now." You huff and fix the wrinkled areas of your hospital gown. It's something you do whenever you're frustrated. Or even something remotely un-positive.

"I was shot two times Gabby!" For drastic measures you put up your two fingers in the air. "I don't care that I'm whining like a teenager. He was ready to flee the scene with me but he can't come to see me when I wake up from a 4 hour long surgery. Make it make sense goddammit!"

Your friend stays silent before nodding her head in defeat. She sees your point.

What Jay did was something a senior detective shouldn't have done. Ever. Leaving the scene instead of helping was every bit wrong in his Sargent's books and you're sure that he god an ear-full from Voight.

But not even Voight is that uncaring to prevent him from visiting you as some sort of a punishing method. Jay not coming is all him. No one made him tell Will to call him once you're awake and not visit.

"I'll let you rest." She announces quietly before giving you a quick hug. Quickly and quietly she retreats into the hall of the hospital, and soon leaving back to the firehouse to continue her shift.

You're alone in the hospital within the next 15 minutes. Your colleagues and friends scurry into their respective vehicles and drive off.

Every now and then Will swings by to keep you company but apart from that you're all on your own. You aren't updated about the case or anything for that matter.

You're pleasantly surprised when you see Burgess make her way towards you. She's dressed in civil but wears her badge proudly on the belt of her dark jeans. There's an air of importance and power around her that almost makes you feel proud that someone like her is paying you a visit. The proudness is overthrown by the love you have for your friend.

Therefore, you can't help the smile that breaks out and completely demolishes your grumpy and brooding facade.

"Thank God you're okay!" She exclaims, voice fill with relief and happiness. "Jay said you were fine but I just had to see for myself."

Your eyebrows furrow and a scowl makes its way to your face.

"Oh no, what's wrong?" Her big doe eyes round in surprise when she sees your face.

"What else did Jay say?" You ask her before you can stop yourself.

A sudden wave of realisation comes over her and she sighs. "Y/N he's beating himself up. He thinks it's his fault that you were shot."

"That doesn't give him the right to leave me when I need him the most!" Your outburst makes the monitor next to you spike up, almost enough to alert you attending doctor. "He left the crime scene to be there for me when I was knocked out and didn't know where I was but then decided to leave my side completely when I woke up in shock and pain from a 4 hour long surgery!"

It should've been reversed.

"He's blaming himself for it Y/N... He told us that he won't be able to look at you until he finds the ones that did this to you." She talks about it so easily that it almost makes sense. You're too high on meds and you were out for way too long to suddenly feel forgiving.

"Well maybe I didn't want that from him..." You clutch your hands together in a strong grip and let your gaze fall on them. "Maybe I just wanted him to be the first person I saw when I woke up. I needed him to be there for me. Do you know how freaked out I was when I woke up and didn't feel my leg?"

Kim shakes her head lightly. She doesn't know. She can only imagine how you felt at that moment.

"He doesn't have to send me apology flowers or chocolate...but the fact that he didn't even call me. It hurts Kim."

At your truthful confession she stands up and pulls you in for a hug. You got a lot of them today but somehow her's felt the most warm and welcoming. She silently told you a lot of things.

Kim Burgess managed to snatch a few more minutes with you before she was called back.

"Could that be them?" You ask hopefully. Sitting in the hospital injured wasn't bearable knowing that the ones who did this to you managed to run away.

Kim nodded. "Jay has a lead. I gotta go."

She excused herself and quickly slipped out of your hospital room. Soon after, one of the lovely nurses payed you a visit once again with some hardcore medication that knocked you right out into deep slumber.

***

After some time you manage to lift your heavy eyelids long enough to get used to the bright light above you. You manage to stretch your arm long enough to press the magic button that will call someone to your room.

Halfway to the magic button you hear rustling sounds of one's clothing. It's like someone's in the room with you.

Instantly your paranoia kicks in. "Who...who's there?"

Your line of vision is met with an all fimilar set of eyes. The eyes, the nose, the lips, the cheeks...they all belong to only one person in the world.

They belong to your boyfriend.

"Oh, it's you." You tell him, clearly showing zero interest in talking to him. The wish to sit up becomes too strong that you can't ignore it any longer. You prompt yourself on your elbows, feeling pain in your side pierce you like an arrow. The noise that comes out because of the pain doesn't go unnoticed by Jay who quickly stands up to help you.

"I got this." You tell him through gritted teeth. You're still mad and disappointed with your boyfriend.

"No you don't. Don't be so stubborn and let me help you." He shoots back at you and hurts your already injured pride.

"N-no! You don't get to act like a boyfriend now!" You slap his help away like the petty little thing you are. After this new round of meds and a little more time napping with their help, you feel a bit more willing to forgive him. Not that you will show him that. He needs to see what he did wrong.

You can see it in his face. He wants to groan and shoot you a look that will tell you to stop being stubborn but he can't. He knows what he did and he also knows that he needs to explain himself in order to earn your forgiveness.

"Why did you leave me?" You ask. It feels good to finally ask the question that's been sitting on your chest for so long. "I understand what your job is and I also know that I can't expect you to be with me 24/7 but... Call me when she wakes up? They gave me my phone back, Jay. You could've just called me to see if I'm alive."

The fact that he didn't even do that... Instead he told his brother to call him when his girlfriend wakes up. It made you angry.

"You bolted with me in the ambo... You left everything and everyone behind to come with me and when I woke up you weren't there." You feel wet moisture (also known as tears) surround your eyes to the point he and his dark bomber jacket become blurry.

Every feeling you have is highlighted. You gulp the little saliva that created in your dry mouth and ask, "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I couldn't stand looking at you while you're hurt like this, knowing that it happened because I didn't protect you." Jay confesses, bringing his hands to his face. He looks like he didn't sleep at all. "The men who did this to you got away because I didn't stop them. You were shot because of me. Not once but twice."

His words sink in. Your boyfriend is a proud guy. He protects what's his (not that you're an object) and when he doesn't succeed in that it eats him alive. It's the worst thing that can happen to him.

As his girlfriend, he already feels guilty that you have to be alert every day while you two are together because of his job. He thinks that the least he can do is protect you at all costs while you're in his sight.

What you didn't know is that before you went in to bust open the bunker door your boyfriend did everything in his power to get you out of there. To stop you from even entering the place with Severide in the first place.

But he couldn't. Not when his girlfriend is a very well respected member of CFD's famous squad group. Removing you just because he wanted to make sure you were safe was like saying that you couldn't do your job well. And Jay wasn't going to go that far and lie about your capability to do your job. If he did that then you would never forgive him.

And he knew it.

"I needed to find them first. I couldn't just let them go and get the upper hand." He told you sincerely and even managed to grasp your hands in his. "I was worried sick about you Y/N. I couldn't show it because Voight was going to remove me from the case and I needed to be there when we found them."

You take in his confession and nod. You take your hand from his grasp to wipe a few tears away before placing it back down and squeezing tight.

"Did you arrest them?" You ask.

"I kneeled them on the ground and managed to shoot each one when the open fire started." He said proudly. His statement brought a smile to your face. You always liked when he was badass.

"If I forgive you," His eyes sparkle when he hears that making you fight back a bubble of laughter. "Do you promise to never ever ever do this again no matter what?"

If, God forbid, this happens again you want him to be there for you when you wake up. Not chasing bad guys around Chicago while you fight for your life at Med.

"I sincerely promise." He says, pulling your hands up to your face and giving each a kiss.

"Now... Apologise." You lean towards him, smirking like a devil. "And make it good."

MASTERLIST

#jay halstead x reader #jay halstead fanfiction #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd fanfiction #chicago pd #chicago fire imagine #chicago fire fanfiction #chicago fire

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sunflowersunshinevol6 · 4 years

Text

Tempest Oblivion

part 3

Warnings: smut, rough smut, degrading language, alpha omega dynamics, knotting, mating, heat, rutting

A/N: I'm sorry if it's crap I've had a really shity day but I did my best I hope you guys enjoy it let me know what you think

All Y/N can do is whine, gripping the bedsheets and crying out for Harry. She needs him. Badly. He has to come back to her.

Her fingers twist, shredding the sheets as she howls, body arching and writhing in the midst of her heat. She can’t do this. She isn’t strong enough. She feels like she’s going to die. But then she smells it, the overwhelming aroma of an alpha, she whimpers, relaxing slightly and opening her eyes to see Harry coming into the room, his head down. He shuts and locks the door.

“Harry-” she chokes out. He comes to her, crawling onto the bed and nestling himself between her legs, he leans over. “Harry it hurts….” she cries. He noses her, licking softly at the skin of her neck. This is it. He’s going to give himself over to her.

“I know Love….This Is my fault, I pushed you.” he looks into her eyes, seeing the fever and the longing there. He can feel his own knot growing, his alpha taking over, he growls. “My little omega,” she shivers, moaning as his alpha speaks to her. “So needy for your alpha.”

“Harry...please,” she begs again. He kisses her cheek, shushing her. If Niall is to be believed this could help her very much in becoming the full wolf she was meant to be. It was worth it.

“I…” he looks at her with guilt. “I can’t be gentle.”

“I don’t want you to be.” he’s surprised, not expecting her to say that, but it only makes his own arousal grow.

“Look at you.” His eyes dragged down her shaking body. “Shaking and moaning for your Alpha. Tsk. Tsk. My dirty little omega, you want me to split you open and fill you with my seed.” she gasps as he yanks her into a sitting position. He reached down, grabbing her breast through the fabric of her dress roughly. He’s no longer Harry, his wolf spirit completely taking control and she loves it. “You want me to breed you with my offspring don’t you? Fuck you with your belly big and tits full of milk.” He licks his lips, moaning at the mental image.His dominance calling to something deep within her. Calling her to submit.

“Please Alpha….” she’s not sure what she’s begging for now. But she needs him.

“I’m gonna knot you...Then I’m going to claim you.” he says, his eyes glowing brilliantly. “Can I?” she nods furiously. Harry makes quick work of the little clothes she’s still left in, having clawed her clothes off in a frenzy the best she could. He cups her breasts in his hands, rubbing his thumbs over her nipples. “Yeah…” he moans, eyes rolling. “You’ll be fucking amazing when you’re carrying my pups.” he grabs her hips, flipping her over onto her stomach. She gives a small yelp when he places a light slap to her ass.

She can hear him fumbling with his jeans, she goes to prop herself on her elbows when he grabs the back of her neck, forcing her back down on the bed. “Don’t move.” he growls again. She does as she’s told, listening to him take his clothes off.

She sighs when she feels his hand slide up the side of her leg. Hs touch gentle, but only for a moment because he quickly grabs her thighs pushing her legs apart and opening her ass cheeks to look at her core.

“Jesus Christ you're dripping wet,” he moans again, licking his lips as he looks at the juices flowing out of her and down her legs, the wolf in him is losing control he does his best to not just force himself inside of her. He wants to taste her but he knows the boom time for that right now he has to give her what she needs and what she needs is him, all of him.

He grabs himself, positioning himself at her entrance and begins to rub his dick against her heat, she moans pushing back against him only for him to push his hand down against her back forcing her down.

“don't move,'' he says “I don't want to lose control and I don't want to hurt you.” Slowly he lets himself slide in between her wet. Pushing and slowly and gently he hisses as she wraps around his cock warming him and sucking him up with her sweet juices.his knot growing harder with every passing moment. when he's fully seated inside of her he sits for a moment letting her adjust to his size. She breathes deeply, finally feeling full and sated, but there’s still more that she needs from him.

“Harry.” She whimpers pushing back against him again and Harry finally starts to move, gripping her ass in his hands as he pushes himself in and out of her. He starts off at a slow pace but eventually starts to pick up as she squeezes around him, his knot becoming bigger with every thrust.

“Jesus, fuck you feel so good.” he growls. He leans over her, wrapping his arms beneath her shoulders and holding her tightly to him, sprawled out on her back. He threads their fingers together, sucking softly at the spot on her neck he’s going to claim.

“Alpha, Alpha, Alpha,” Y/N can’t think, her mind blank and empty, save for the feeling of Harry thrusting into her roughly. He stretches her out, filling her up deliciously. Her body arches, trying to match the pace he’s set as he sucks and nibble on her neck.

“So fucking tight...god….the best pussy. You have the best pussy….gonna fuck you everyday my little omga...you’re mine. You’re fucking mine.” His possessiveness turns her on even more heat poolling in her belly as the coil of arousal begins to tighten, she can feel yourself becoming closer to release and she grabs his hand tightly.

“Harry….” she whines, she’s so close.

“Shh. Don't talk Angel'' He commands her grunting as his thrusts become sloppier and his knot becoming thicker. It's harder for him to pull out and push back when he's close. “Going to have you fucking waddling, walking around belly full of my pups. tits dripping milk, I'll lick it all up. I can't wait for it. I can't fucking wait for it. I won't be able to keep myself off of you, going to mount you in front of everybody and let them know that you're mine.” that does it.

The coil in her belly snaps and she screams ,body arching up against his as she comes. her mind goes white, heat pouring through her body as she writhes and squirms beneath him. faintly she hears a roar as Harry shoves himself all the way into her as deep as he can go, releasing his seed into her and locking himself inside of her, he bites down on her neck hard, causing her tos scream again and It Spurs another orgasm. her legs shake ,toes digging into the bed as she rides out her second orgasm with him.

She is his.

when Harry can see straight again he gently pulls himself off of her as best as he can fold and onto his side and bringing her with him he wraps his arms around her hugging her from behind and lapping at the tender and soft mark on her neck, he places gentle kisses over it.

“Thank you Harry.” she whispers, he can hear the exhaustion in her voice.

“Hush mate. I’m here. Get some rest for now yeah? I’m not done with you yet.”

They fuck for 4 days straight. it's hard to have an actual conversation because the bounce-back time is so quick. At first Y/N didn't feel anything nothing more than the ache of needing her Alpha but after the sixth or seventh time they have sex she started to feel a power something inside of her was stirring she wasn't sure if it was her wolf but she hope that it was maybe it was responding to Harry.

News spread fast that the Alpha had been claimed. that he'd found a mate. a lot of the females weren't happy with Y/N and she shut herself away, hiding from them. she didn't want them to hate her. She knew she was a newcomer and that this wasn't her pack and that she had a lot to learn. but it seemed that nobody was going to be willing to give her a chance they hated her for the simple fact that Harry chose her.

“They’ll come around. You’ll see.” Gigi reassured her on one of her visits with her friend. She didn’t see much of Harry, he was still trying to find her pack and being the leader of his own pack he had pack issues to deal with as well. Y/N shrugged.

“I hope so.” A Knock on the door interrupted them, Gigi got up and went over to the door, leaving Y/N in the kitchen sipping on her tea and waiting for her friend to return. When Gigi did she looked grave a letter open in our hands and she gave her a curious look.

“What’s wrong?” Y/N asked, coming over to look at the letter in her friend’s hand.

“It’s Camille…” Camille. A beautiful blonde who worked closely with Harry and never seemed to know her place when it came to him. "She's challenging you." Gigi held the note in her hand looking up to meet Y/N's confused eyes with concerned ones.

"Challenging me? For what?"

"Your mate. She doesn't think you're fit. She wants Harry as her mate." Y/N scoffed in astonishment.

"So what I'm supposed to fight her? Harry only mated me to help me-"

"You know that's not true. Harry mated you because he wanted to. Your wolf called to him just as badly as his called to you...mating is for life. In most cases. He wouldn't have done it if he didn't care." Y/N took a step back shaking her head.

"My wolf isn't strong enough....I can't." Gigi smiled bitterly.

"You don't have a choice. If you don't accept you forfiet. You lose. And she could banish you. You'd be right back where you started." Gigi placed a gentle hand on her friend's shoulder. "You'd be surprised what an omega can do when her mate is threatened.....I believe in you."

Harry placed angrily, a low growl rumbling from his chest. He was beyond angry.

"You had no business staking claim to me." He glared at Camille. She stood with her head high, arms crossed her chest.

"That's not for you to decide. I challenged Y/N, not you." Harry roared, knocking his desk over, items spilling to the ground. Camille didn't flinch. Instead she rushed forward, grabbing Harry's arm.

"H...you're always trying to be noble. To do the right thing...but this time you got your priorities real mixed up....I have been devoted to you. I deserve you. And you could not expect me to not fall in love with you when you were there for every heat and I pleased you through every rut." She blinked back tears. "And then she comes waltzing in here like she's somebody and you mated her." Her grip tightened. Eyes narrowed. "I'm going to break the bond. I'm going to prove to you that I am worthy of you. And once I destroy her wolf....maybe then you'll see that I'm the one you need-" Harry yanked away from her in disgust. He ran his hand through his hair.

"Get out." He whispered. He had to find some way to protect her he couldn't let Camille destroy her not when he was so close to finding out the truth about her. Camille left without another word in Harry sat down at his desk his head in his hands,he groaned in frustration.

There was only one thing he knew for sure and that was that Y/N was his mate now and nobody was going to challenge that not on his watch.

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #solo harry #hs fandom #hs imagine #hs fanfic #hs2 #hs1

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years

Text

Humans are Space Orcs, “Undercover.”

Wrote something for you all this morning. It’s a little more fun and fluffy than anything else, but it also forward the arc, so I hope you like it. Have a great day everyone

Also we have a discord server now, and he link below should be permanent. Hope to see you there :)

https://discord.gg/cTY5SHx

“So you two are planning to…. What exactly? Pose as one of us to get information from these people.”

“That is kind of the general idea I guess.”

Sitting at the bar surrounded by all the noise and lights their conversation went unheard the rest of the bar goers around them.

The bartender and his small Finnari companion wandered off at intermittent times to serve drinks to other customers before wandering back.

The human leaned against the bar, “Look, if that is your plan, then you are going to need some help blending in.”

The commander raised an eyebrow, “Blending in, how so. She's a Drev I’m a human slap on some makeup and a little hair dye and no one will be the wiser.”

The bartender just smiled and shook his head as if amused at the Commander’s ignorance, “no no no, that’s not how it works. You see there is an entire culture behind extrials, a lot of stuff we had to do before it became legal and a lot of stuff we still do now as a sort of memento of the hard times.”

The commander blinked, “Oh, really. I had no idea.”

“That’s alright. It’s not like we advertise it out to everyone, that’s the whole point of it being a secret. Look me and Vin’an get off in like fifteen minutes, and we can help you two out. Besides, the people who have been approaching everyone would never consider doing it here anyway. Most of these people aren’t rich enough, and the establishment is actually a legal one which means it is prone to inspections.”

“Right, sounds fun.”

The commander turned in his seat and leaned back resting his elbows up on the bar. Sunny watched him from where she sat a seat over still nursing her drink, “You seem relaxed for someone who is preparing to spend the next couple of days in espionage.”

He grinned, “Ah but it is also the kind of espionage where I can go partying with my best friend, so I would consider it a little less working and a little more paid vacation.”

She rolled her eyes, “You’re an idiot, you know that.”

“You love it.”

“Mmmmhmmm sure.”

Sunny finished her Drink and the commander closed his eyes seeming to soak up the atmosphere like some sort of strange sponge. Sunny would never understand that about him, of course she liked going out and doing things, but she couldn’t imagine being able to recharge around people. After a while she needed a break, but it looked like he was getting ready to fall contentedly asleep.

A knock on the bar behind them, and she turned to see the bar tender had been replaced by a different couple/

“You two ready to go.”

“Sure thing boss.” the commander turned to sunny, “Come on lets go be cultured and things.”

She just shook her head again but followed along with the group of them as they were motioned through the backdoor behind the bar and up a flight of stairs.

“You guys live here?” The commander wondered.

“A lot of us live in the same building. It makes it easier on all of us. less questions asked and a lot safer, we can pool our money for security equipment and what not. Strength in numbers as it were.”

“Right, makes sense.”

He shouldered open a door to the next apartment stepping into a room lined in UV lights over large potted plants. Everything else had a very modern futuristic looks with neon floor lights and minimalistic furniture, “Damn, bartending pays well.” The commander muttered under his breath, “And I’m still sleeping in a twin.”

“Make yourselves comfortable, go ahead and sit anywhere.”

Before Sunny would do anything the Commander had claimed a strange circular shaped chair that was hanging from the ceiling. It rocked back and forth, and he seemed to be enjoying himself, which was rather amusing to her. It was like trying to wrangle a puppy..

A moment later the bartender came to sit down with them, and the Commander was polite enough to stop his playing around and pay attention, which was a feat all in itself.

“Alright, so a little background for you guys, just general information that anyone in the community would know.” He cracked his knuckles, “The LFIL began as a result of one of the oxyclinics.”

“Oh hey! I worked at one of those after the war for a short time,”

The punk nodded, “Than you know, in those places you tend to get kind of intimate and close up with other aliens. Generally it was very rare and the humans kept everything professional. Generally it started with them having feelings for some people they met but never saying anything or mentioning it because at the time they thought it was wrong. Plus also it was seriously and very professionally wrong to go and do anything about it. However, there was one couple, a Drev and a human who became really good friends during the course of the treatment, and eventually wen the Drev left they kept in contact. Turns out that the human’s second job was as a cage fighter down on one of the local stations for money. They ended up running into each other there where the Drev saw them fight. That led to more time spent hanging out and you get the gist. Independently stories like that were happening all over. Finnari worked well with humans who wanted someone to protect, drev like fighters, and Tesraki were drawn by people’s good business sense and stayed for how loyal humans are. Eventually it spread from the oxy clinics.”

“Wow, I had no idea it began that way, though I guess it makes sense.”

The bartender smiled, “Yeah. I met Vin’an when looking for a place to stay. I had just moved here, and she was looking to hire a human to keep her safe in the big cit. Things progressed from there, so my story is a little less complicated than most, but I guess the one thing you need to know that relates to all extrials is that we are all, in some way very, very eccentric. If you are going to date an alien tan odds are you are going to stand out in other ways as well. At first, it was sort of just a coincidence of personality, but when we started to learn that there were others like us, we started doing it on purpose to let people subtly know who and what we were.”

“But plenty of humans are eccentric.” Sunny pointed out

He turned to look at her, “Not so much off earth. They tend to be military or business types, so not a lot of eccentricities going on. Plus, for a while, we used tattoos to signal what we were, generally we would get the image of the alien that we were attracted to on the arm or other part of the body. It was all in an effort to let each other know what we were and what we were willing to do.”

“And how did aliens react to that?”

“You know, I think there is this misconception that aliens are less prone to odd behaviors than humans and that it is humans that always initiate, but that isn’t true. I know plenty of couples where the non-human was the first one to approach. Of course, it is definitely more of a personality based thing than any other type of relationship. You will find that there are very few extrials who are attracted to aliens outright in the way that normal people are. I mean yeah there are a few, obviously, but most of us had no idea until we met the perfect person. In fact, I've dated plenty of humans in my time, and it didn’t bother me. But that is how a lot of the progressions go, you start out as really good friends, and then it goes from there as you get to know each other.” he clapped his hands, “Anyway, first thing is first, we need to make you look like one of us, that means eccentric.”

From where she was sitting cross-legged on the floor, sunny looked up, “He wears an eyepatch and a military grade cybernetic leg. I think he’s already eccentric enough to fit in.”

The other human laughed while the commander flipped her the bird.

“I mean that is kind of true, but we want you eccentric in a way where no one is going to recognize you. Sunny, I am going to have you go out with Vin’an and pick out some nail polish for your new color. She can help you get ready.”

***

Something the commander and Sunny thought was going to take an hour or two turned into an entire day. Sunny ended up stuck sitting on the roof with the little Finnari being painted a nailpolish color that was called ‘opal unicorn’ which was sort of silver white with sparkles in it. It was a very pretty color, kind of reminding her of her brother’s late partner, but that didn’t mean she enjoyed all the work it took to put the stuff on. It took almost three applications over her full body and A UV light source to harden the stuff.

Still though, she assumed it was much more intense than Adam, and when they returned to the apartment she was surprised to find that he wasn’t there. The two of them sat around for a while playing games and talking about random things until the door clicked open and two humans walked in.

At first Sunny thought The bartender had brought home another one of his other friends before her eyes zeroed in on the human’s face. The eye color was different now a bright blue, but she would know that sheepish expression anywhere.

“Ho-ly shit.” She said looking him up and down, “IS that really you in there.”

He flipped her the bird, “yeah, it’s me.”

The bartender was grinning from one side of his face to the other.

“You know I am pretty sure he went out and did this just to amuse himself.”

“I mean you do look pretty funny.”

“I am very much not a fan of getting a nailgun through my soft cartilage, lets get that straight.”

Sunny tilted her head “Oh so those aren’t clip ons.”

“No, no they are not clip ons.”

“Huh.”

“Told you, no one will recognize you.” The bartender said, grinning

“Yeah no one will recognize me, I don’t even recognize myself. It seems to e a trend in my life lately, dying and cutting my hair.”

Sunny tilted her head the other way. His new look was primarily characterized by lightning blue hair shaved almost to the scalp on the sides and long on the top with some sort of magic holding it straight up in the air. Both of his ears were pierced including one that had piercings along both the top and bottom of the ear with a chain connecting the two.

The more she looked the more she wanted to laugh.

Somehow, he even had a stud in his upper chest around the base of the throat near the collarbones

“You laugh, I Kill You.”

“Don’t worry, I'll just incapacitate you with a large magnet.”

“Mother fucker.”

She danced away laughing as he charged at her skipping out of the way as his heavy boots thudded over the ground.

“Hey, quiet down you’ll wake up my neighbors.” The man hissed as the two of them skidded to a stop.

“You look like a baby punk walked into a staple factory.” Sunny mocked

“And you look like unicorn ji-”

“Keep it civil.”

He shut his mouth tight, “Alright, are we ready, finally?”

“Well, not exactly.”

He crossed his arms, “What do you mean not exactly.”

He smiled “well you aren’t going to convince anyone… unless.”

“Unless what?”

“Unless you actually look like a couple

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh, now go on hold her hand. She’s got enough of them to spare.”

Sunny looked at Adam, Adam looked at Sunny.

“Well go on its not like you’re suddenly going to become extrial if you hold hands.”

“That's not the-” Adam began

“Less talking more hand holding.”

Sunny shrugged and held out her upper left hand. Adam stared at it cleared his throat, reached out and paused.

“Come on, we haven’t got all night. Promise you aren’t suddenly going to be attracted to aliens.”

“I never said-”

“Go on.”

He looked over at sunny again. She tilted her head at him, “Wow, making me feel really great here Adam, promise I don’t have germs.”

He ignored them, reached out and took her hand.

He was…. Very awkward. The palm of his hand was very sweaty, and he didn’ts seem to understand that the point of hand holding was to make contact with the person and not avoid touching them as much as possible.

The punk sighed and walked over, “have you ever held hands with anyone…. Ever?”

“No.”

“Oh hmm.”

He walked over grabbed them and readjusted, “Hold down here, and now get a bit closer, closer. Seriously dude what is your issue. You sort of just interlace the fingers like that.” He practically had to bodily move Adam right up next to sunny.

He was stiff as a board.”

“You aren’t very good at this.”

Adam had his mouth clamped shut.

“Honestly you can actually look like you like her. I know you guys are friends and friends hold hands all the time.”

Adam tugged at the collar of his jacket, “Is it hot in here?”

“Stop trying to change the subject.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just really really bad with anything in this related field.”

“You’ve never had a girlfriend?’

“No.”

“Boyfriend.”

“No/ “One night stand.”

“No.”

His eyes were wide, “Wow, so you’re still.”

“Can we change the subject please.”

Off to his side he could feel sunny shaking. He looked over at her only to find that she was laughing silently behind his back.

“What’s so funny.”

“You, you’re funny. I have never met someone so adorably inept at interpersonal relationships.”

“This is a fake interpersonal relationship.”

“Just imagine how you would manage the real thing.” She continued to laugh and he frowned at her.

“Alright now why don’t we go out, get used to this outside head around and get to know the places. It’ll be a fun night.”

She pulled Adam closer, “Oh yes it will.”

He groaned.

***

The guy hadn’t been wrong. They went all over the city catching looks everywhere they went through their presence was greeted with great enthusiasm in almost every location. The commander kept his eye out for any suspicious activity though he didn't expect it to happen right away if at all. Him and sunny wouldn’t be likely to be approached seeing as they weren’t an established member of the community, but perhaps they could integrate well enough that they would notice when someone was approached.

Halfway through the n night the commander walked off to get drinks.

Sunny sat looking around the room and occasionally talking with some of the other patrons. Adam returned a moment later sitting next to her and handing her a drink before sliding his hand back into place in hers.

She could see him from the corner of her eyes as he discreetly checked out the room.

The aperture of his fake eye was adjusting opening and closing as he used it to catalog and track every person within radius.

HE craned his head to the side leaning against her as he tried to get a look at some people on the other side of the room.

She put an arm around him turning her head to see behind them.

Light flashed and strobed as music played in the background.

At some point they were invited to dancing and then bar hopping with another group which they took in order to properly integrate themselves inward.

The night went by and sunny lost all track of location and time.

She thought she fell asleep at some point and woke up to find Adam dozing off at her shoulder.

She remembered even later in that crashing at someone else’s apparent on the floor of the living room which was strewn with almost a dozen other people.

Adam and Sunny ended up squished against the couch pressed up against each other to make room for everyone else.

She was so tired that it didn’t matter the noise.

And then they were up again on the town and back to the bars.

Adam was only growing more comfortable while she was beginning to lag. This lifestyle was not for her. She hadn’t been alone in hours. The constant noise and people were draining her life away.

At one point in the night they were sitting back on one of the couches talking. Adam stretched and put his arm over her shoulder turning his head and leaning in close. His breath was hot against her face, “Three o clock. I think I got something.”

She turned her head forehead brushing against his. Giving him cover, “What do you see.”

He pretended to laugh and leaned closer, “I've seen these people three times. They never touch each other barely look at each other, and the have just invited one of these couples into a back room.”

“They could just be…. Offering favors.”

Adam rested his head on her shoulder, “I don’t think so. They aren’t acting right, they don’t look right, point is there is something about them that does not belong here. You know plus they are both tesraki, which is kind of a dead give away.”

She wrapped an arm around him and pulled him closer, “OK yeah that is a bit suspicious.”

“I'm going to try and get access to the GA database, hopefully our IT guy can give us a bit of help.”

Shr an a hand through his hair, “Want me to keep an eye on them.”

“Go ahead.”

Another couple sat down across from them nearly blocking Sunny's view.

“I just have to say.” Their new neighbors commented learning closer, ‘You two are such a cute couple.” Sunny did her best to be polite while being forced to crane her neck past their heads.

“Why thank you. How about you two though, where did you guys meet.” That should shut them up for a while

And she was right.

Adam squeezed her hand once, and then twice.

She knew what that meant.

The two of them stood suddenly and Adam smiled, “Sorry guys, but I just got a call in from work. It was nice meeting you though, take care and have a good night.”

They were waved off with a smile.

Adam gripped her hand as together they walked through the club and towards the door where the Tesraki had disappeared.

Hopefully he knew what he was doing.

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