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imaginedanvrs · 2 years ago

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can't quit you

dom!power bottom!natasha x sub!service top!reader

warnings: toxic dynamic, degrading, oral (r giving and receiving), fingering (r giving and receiving), mommy kink, strap on (r giving), bondage, wax play, temperature play, praise

word count: 4.2k

“Do you want to stay for a while? I'm making pasta tonight,” you told the redhead as you watched her slip her bra back on.

“I've got plans,” Natasha replied without sparing you a glance. You bit your lip and nodded even though she couldn't see you, feeling the familiar disappointment bring about a pang in your chest. You were used to the spy coming over to hook up and leaving immediately after, but everytime you fooled yourself into believing that maybe she would enjoy your company beyond sex for once. You never said anything to Natasha, knowing that your absence of any persistence was what kept her coming back. She didn't have time for relationships and she certainly didn't have time for anyone needy. But you couldn't say the same for yourself and you couldn't continue to endure the ache that Natasha brought to your life.

“I don't think we should do this anymore,” you declared. Natasha looked at you with a raised brow as she pulled her jeans up, seeming sceptical of your announcement.

“Why?” She asked plainly, certainly not appearing bothered. You wished she was.

“You know why,” you countered. She didn't respond as she stared at you. “I want a relationship. I know I won't get one with you so I want to focus on other people who do,” you told her.

“Like who?” She pushed.

“I don't know yet,” you admitted. Natasha hummed with a small smile, as though she wasn't buying a word of what you said. “I'm serious, Nat” you insisted but it was clear that wasn't going through when the redhead grabbed her phone and keys.

“I'll see you around, detka,” she called over her shoulder as she sauntered across your studio apartment like it was her own home.

“No you won't!” You tried to call back but the heavy slam of the door cut you off. You huffed and lay back in the messy bed, glancing at the space next to you where Natasha had been laying just ten minutes prior.

You had blocked and deleted Natasha’s number so that you wouldn't be tempted to contact her again. You meant every word of what you said to her the last time you met but that didn't ensure you had the willpower to follow through. You hadn't met many people in the cold winter months that followed, unable to stop comparing them to a certain redhead. None of their eyes held the same overwhelming intensity as hers. None of their lips promised sinful highs from just one brief touch. None of their hips held that same hypnotising sway when they knew you were watching. It was unfair to place those kinds of comparisons on them,especially as they were all far more genuine and interested as Natasha had ever been. Perhaps that was the problem.

It was late on a Saturday evening when you heard a knock on your door. You had decided to have a night to yourself to finally assemble a lego kit you had bought the week before, but it seemed it would have to wait a little longer.

When you opened your door, you froze at the sight of Natasha in your hallway. She was dressed up in what you could only assume was the attire for Stark’s latest party she must have ditched. It wouldn't be the first time she had done it to come and see you.

“Miss me?” Natasha asked with a knowing smirk when your eyes took in how short the crimson red dress fell. You wanted to deny it, but lying to a spy was futile.

“I missed you,” she told you, voice low in a way you had heard countless times and had never been able to walk away from. She took a step forward and your eyes snapped to hers. You could never fight the spell they cast over you either, not that you wanted to.

“You shouldn't be here,” you reminded yourself more than her. She tilted her head slightly, her smirk unwavering as your resolve crumbled in front of her.

“But we're both glad I am,” she pointed out as you suddenly felt her hand grip your own with an assertive gentleness. Natasha guided it towards her and you let her, enchanted as you watched your own hand disappear under the fabric. The pads of your fingers skimmed across her soft thighs as she led you higher until you were met with damp lace. You exhaled shakily, finally moving your digits by your own will to stroke her covered cunt that clenched at your barricaded touch.

One soft moan from Natasha was all it took for you to pull her in by the waist and slam the door behind her as you pressed the redhead up against the wall and let your lips re-familiarise themselves. She grinned in triumph against you and you happily surrendered the price for a taste of Natasha that you could've sworn was intoxicating.

You pushed your thigh between hers and felt her buck down on it instantly. You grabbed her thighs to encourage her to grind, hoping to see a wet patch on your sweatpants when you were done. Natasha moaned again and you took the opportunity to let your tongue swipe across hers.

To your surprise, she pulled away and forced you straight to your knees. You opened your mouth to object but Natasha grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled your head back to look up at her. “You're not in charge here,” she reminded you. You struggled to nod in her grip.

“I'm sorry,” You whispered, tears brimming from the sting.

“Show me,” she ordered, guiding your head to where she needed you most whilst she pulled down her ruined underwear. You breathed in the redhead’s scent as she did so, squirming where you knelt in desperation to have her in your mouth. You barely had to wait, Natasha’s just rivalling your own.

You moaned in synchronised relief when your tongue was finally flat against Natasha's cunt. Faintly registering the dull thud of the Russian’s head dropping against the wall, you gripped her thighs as a means to anchor yourself to Natasha and ate her out like you starved. Of her, you had.

“Fuck, this is what you're made for, detka, and it's all for me,” she reminded you with a particularly harsh pull on your hair. You mumbled an agreement as you sunk your tongue into her, eager to savour as much of the dangerous woman as you could.

“You can fuck those other sluts all you want, malysh, I know you'll never be this drunk in their pussies.” You groaned, your stomach flipping at Natasha’s well placed arrogance when she told you what you already knew. “Give me your fingers,” she ordered and you complied.

To Natasha’s displeasure, you pulled away as you brought your fingers up to spread her folds, though the redhead held off protesting when she realised you just wanted to watch your fingers sink into her. She watched on with flushed features as you bit your lip and pushed two fingers in with a soft groan. Her warmth wrapped around you in a welcoming embrace, throbbing and twitching as you pushed your digits knuckle deep.

“Good fucking girl,” Natasha sighed. You snapped your gaze to the steady rise and fall of Natasha's chest where one of her hands had slipped under her dress to play with her breasts. You felt yourself ache as your eyes met and Natasha used her free hand to return your mouth to her.

You allowed her to manoeuvre your body as she pleased, finding it all too easy to follow her authority and let her use you for her own pleasure, a dynamic that seemed to serve you both well. You pumped your fingers steadily inside of Natasha as your lips wrapped around her hardened clit that pulsed in your mouth as though it had a heartbeat of its own. The spy bucked her hips into your fave at the action as she swore in Russian You smiled and curled your fingers towards yourself, caressing that sweet spot that made Natasha’s thighs tightened around your head.

“Such an obedient fucktoy,” Natasha seemed to mumble to herself more than you as she watched you fuck her with purpose, as though it was your sole mission. To be fair, that was about right. Natasha had continued to plague your thoughts in her absence. Images of her naked body beneath yours and the heavenly sound of her cumming played constantly through your days as you ached to have another fix of the redhead. And now you were getting it, you weren't about to make it quick. Though you were desperate to feel her cum, you took your time with the spy, wanting to make her orgasm all the better until she finally snapped and demanded it. You would never deny her.

You curled and pumped your fingers at a steady pace, slowing down everytime the redhead’s breathing became too erratic. You'd sooth her frustrations by flattening your tongue on her clit or sucking the throbbing bud gently. But Natasha wouldn't let you withhold from her for much longer.

“Come on, detka, show me how much you've missed me and make me cum. Mommy wants to soak your pretty face,” she told you with a short breath.

You took her in your mouth and pushed a third finger in with little resistance. The spy was wet enough to allow you to surpass her tightness and stretch her soft walls that clung to you. You thrust them fast, deep and with a perfect rhythm that had Natasha’s head spinning wildly.

“That's it…yes! Fuck,” Natasha moaned came, your name spilling over her lips as she gripped the back of your head and grinded herself on your mouth and fingers to ease herself down from her blinding high. Her grip remained tight when she steadied herself against the wall and gazed down at you with such a blissed expression that you couldn't help but flex your fingers inside her once more.

“Greedy thing,” Natasha tutted as she pushed you away. A whine escaped your lips before you could stop it and the redhead gave you a fake pout. She swiped at the wetness on your chin with her thumb and pushed it past your lips, watching with bemusement as you hummed.

“Go put on the harness and lay on the bed,” She told you as she took her thumb away. You scrambled to your feet at the idea and made a b-line for your chest of drawers. “And strip,” she added. You did as she said as quickly as you could, only turning around when you heard Natasha searching through your bedside drawer.

You lay down just as the spy retrieved her favourite dildo you owned, the maroon one that was on the larger size. You throbbed at the thought of getting to see her take it again and attached it swiftly as Natasha let her dress pool on the floor and climbed on top of you, a small smirk playing on her lip as she took in your form.

Her soft hands wandered down your exposed stomach several times, enjoying you shuddering under her touch. In moments like that, when everything she did felt so precise and controlled, you were reminded that you were in bed with a former assassin. She was ruthless and unimaginably deadly, and yet you wanted nothing more than to see her take your strap.

Natasha spat in her hand as she sat on your knee, letting you feel how wet she still was, and brought it down to the dildo to slowly spread it. Your breathing became shaky as you wanted on, feeling the base of the toy rub painfully against your clit.

“Fuck, mommy, let me fuck you. Please,” you begged as the friction built, though not being able to fuck the woman above you was what caused you the most distress.

“Soon, dove,” Natasha chuckled, getting onto her knees to hover over the toy. Your hands immediately fell to her hips but the redhead smacked them away. “Look, don't touch,” she chided.

“But-”

“Be good,” she warned and you fell silent, bunching up the duvet next to you instead.

You were caught in a trance the moment your cock grazed Natasha’s cunt, spreading her lips apart as she gripped the base and eventually sunk down on the head. You so badly wanted to help her take you, but you couldn't risk loosing what was to come.

“Making mommy feel so good,” Natasha mumbled as she lowered herself further on the toy, enthralled by the stretch to her soft walls that gripped you with might.

The redhead placed her hands behind her on your knees and in doing so greatly improved your view of her cunt swallowing your cock. You groaned at the mesmerising sight and could've sworn you could feel how she clenched around you with every inch she took until Natasha was fully seated on the toy you refused to use with anyone else.

The spy lifted herself halfway off of the toy before she was slamming herself down on it again. The motion shook you both and in an attempt to aid her pleasure, you brought your hands up to Natasha's chest and cupped her tits. The redhead managed to chuckles admist her breathy moans. “You just can't keep your hands to yourself,” she mused but made no effort to stop you, too engrossed in the feeling of the dildo working inside you.

“No, mommy,” you agreed blindly as you felt her nipples harden under your touch. Your thumbs drifted over them while Natasha steadily bounced herself above you, the occasional curse and gasped “yes” being uttered. She was a vision like that, using you for her own pleasure all while you laid back and watched her angelic features communicate the parade of sensations ablaze in her.

Once she was accustomed to the size and stretch had subsided, your cock reached Natasha’s depths with ease, seemingly stroking every minute nerve as it did and threatened to make the redhead buck under the pleasure. “Fuck me,” she hissed when her legs started to become numb.

You didn't need telling twice. You gripped Natasha’s hips with bruising relief and began thrusting your hips up to meet the pace the spy needed. “Oh god, that's it,” she confirmed, slouching forwards to rest her hands on your stomach to better support the sudden shift.

“Don't stop,” Natasha ordered with underlying desperation.

“Never,” you whined when her nails dug into your skin, imprinting half moons that would linger for several days. It only spurred you on as you guided Natasha’s frame into your own in a heated collision, one that you could never be allowed to control.

In a blur, Natasha’s trained hand wrapped itself around your throat and squeezed at the sides. You immediately felt the blood rush but it didn't defer your movements. Natasha beamed down at you as she watched your fight off your internal conflict ignited by your light-headedness.

“Don't stop,” she said, this time with a challenging tint. You accepted with a rushed nod and continued to pound the toy into the redhead. The moan it brought from her was nothing short of profane and made your entire body buss as though in a state of call and response.

“You're gonna make me cum like this,” she told you. “Gonna make mommy cum on your cock,” she said as she toppled forwards almost entirely flat against your front and moved her hips in a frantic grind.

“Please,” you begged as one hand grabbed her ass to push her deeper in.

“Fuck, y/n,” she groaned with a sharp cry, her grip around your throat tightening momentarily as she came. You saw white just as Natasha did and bathed in the euphoria that crashed over the older woman as she panted and moaned in your ear. Her muscles twitched as she came down from her orgasm and slowly rode your cock through it to sooth her pulsing cunt until she finally collapsed on top of you.

Barely a moment passed before Natasha peered over at you with dark eyes and a promising smirk. “You're gonna be the death of me,” you told her as you flipped your bodies over and grabbed your still attached hips together.

“I'm worth dying for,” she replied with a pleased smile.

Nat: I'll be over in 10. You glanced at the message on your phone and huffed to yourself. Natasha had added her number back to your phone when you had gone to get some water the last time she was over and you hadn't bothered to delete it again. You still had every intention of moving on from the spy, you just needed to figure out how.

Me: maybe I'm out rn. You replied.

Nat: funny. You huffed again and tossed your phone to the side, knowing your ittitance with the redhead wouldn't last once she had her hands on you.

You were right. The moment you were pushed back on the bed with the torturous spy following after you, being mad at her was the last thing on your mind. In fact, you were so enthralled by the feeling of her lips on yours that you didn't notice what her wandering hands held until the S.H.I.E.L.D issued handcuffs were secured around your wrists above your head. That was new.

Natasha looked down at you with a devilish grin and you knew that wasn't all she had planned. “You trust me, don't you?” She asked in a sickly sweet voice as she produced a blindfold. You stared at the black material as you nodded your head but Natasha tutted.

“Use your words, malysh,” she chided.

“Yes,” you breathed out. Natasha gave a low hum of approval and placed the soft fabric over your eyes and tied it at the back of your head. With your senses heightened, you almost jumped at the light kiss pressed to your cheek.

“I'll be right back,” she whispered against your ear. You shuddered and the bed creaked quietly as she got off but you didn't hear her leave and for a moment you wondered if she was still there, admiring your bare form as you listened out for her. There wasn't much point, of course. If the black widow didn't want to be heard, she wouldn't be.

It felt as though aeons passed before you felt the bed dip again. You turned your head in that direction on instinct, waiting for any indicator as to what the other woman was doing. She didn't say a word, giving you no warning when a sudden bitterly cold object was placed on your torso. You inhaled sharply and heard Natasha chuckled as she slid the object across you and left a wet trail. An ice cube. You would have laughed if you weren't so shocked, not taking her seriously when Natasha had mentioned it months ago.

“You're cute when you squirm,” Natasha commented. “Is it too cold for you, detka? You need something to warm you up?” She asked. You searched your brain for what she could possibly mean, clocking it just as you heard a lighter being flicked on for several seconds.

“I didn't think you were serious,” you admitted with an anxious laugh as you rightfully pictured the candle Natasha held above your naked body.

“Are you changing your mind?” She asked as she removed the ice cube and replaced it with her warm mouth. You gasped at the pleasantly wet feeling of Natasha’s tongue picking the water off of your torso. Fuck, you whised you could see her.

“No,” you managed to say.

“That's my good girl,” She smiled against your skin as she allowed the candle to burn and brought another ice cube to your stomach - lower this time. You jumped at the expected cold but didn't get a chance to shiver because Natasha was quick to leave open mouthed kisses across the chilled area.

Natasha revelled in your conflicted responses to her touches, admiring the way your body was entirely at her mercy to torment as she saw fit. After such a shit mission, she relished in that control.

Pulling the ice cube away from your sensitive skin, Natasha watched how your muscles tensed in expectation, but Natasha was anything but predictable and instead allowed a small bead of hot wax to dribble over you. You hissed once more though this time you pulled on the restraints around your wrists, only relaxing when the redhead locked a long strip of the wax off of your body.

“Mommy,” you whined, unable to tell if the heat from her mouth made it better or worse, all you knew was that it was exquisitely intense and unlike anything you had ever felt.

“You're taking it so well,” Natasha cooed as she kissed the valley between your breasts. At her words, you felt your already wet cunt clench. You tried to steady your breathing and focus on the striking heats but it was impossible to ignore the pulsing.

You had never let Natasha touch you before, the one trait she shared with everyone else you had been with. It wasn't like they never offered, you had just never been comfortable enough to let them. Natasha herself had asked countless times but you always shrugged her off. It didn't matter, you were a giver anyway. But with every round of alternating temperature patterns, it became harder to disregard your need.

“You're so wet,” Natasha noted as she pushed your thighs apart and kept you open, intending to focus on your thighs before she took in the sight of your soaked pussy. Her mouth watered as she watched you clench around nothing and she couldn't help but wonder how tight you were.

Just to add to your aching frustrations, Natasha spilled more wax across you, this time dripping down the inside of your thighs. Your moans were needier than Natasha had ever heard and it only spurred her on as she licked the wax off your skin and hummed at the scents of vanilla.

“Such a messy thing,” she chuckled. “Oh, detka, that looks painful,” she pouted as she saw your arousal had smeared to your thighs. “You need mommy to take care of that?” She asked, not expecting your response to be any different than usual.

“Yeah,” you whined. Natasha’s eyes widened.

“Yeah? Want me to take care of this pretty pussy?” She continued as her excitement grew.

“Please,” you whispered, your walls finally crumbling.

Natasha didn't waste another second, her mouth was on your cunt in an instant and you both gave a gluttonous moan at the contact. “Fuck,” you cried out as the redhead flattened her tongue and explored your cunt with a newfound vigour. Your thighs clasped around Natasha’s head and your hips seemed to develop their own free will as you desperately tried to grind against the source of your disorientating pleasure.

“God, you taste so good,” she mumbled against you before sinking her tongue inside. Her moans resonated through your entire body, vibrations brushing every nerve ending as she gripped your hips and forced you to stay still as she fucked you.

“Please,” you whined though you had no idea what you were pleading for. It was all so much. Natasha seemed to know what you needed and swiftly switched to sucking your clit in her mouth. You tugged on your restraints and arched your back sharply, core ablaze.

The spy examined you closely for everything that made your body shudder and cunt clench. It wasn't hard to figure out how highly responsive and sensitive you were. Poor thing, Natasha had thought as she sucked on your puffy lips as a momentary relief.

It didn't take long to work you up to your orgasm and Natasha was more than ready to give it to you. “It's alright, detka, cum for me,” she coaxed before sinking her tongue into your cunt and setting on the pace you needed from her.

“Gonne,” you whined as the pressure built and built until it was too much and you went spiralling over the edge, floating mid air until you tumbled back down. Natasha pulled the blindfold down just as you came and your eyes locked in that moment, watching each other become entirely enthralled by the other’s acts.

“Give me another,” she instructed clearly, something dark lurking behind her eyes.

You weren't sure you could until Natasha pushed two fingers into your tight cunt. You cried out as your already overworked nerves were pushed once more. But it ached so good, hurting in just the right way that you didn't want it to stop.

Natasha’s fingers thrust and curled inside you as you became a mess beneath her. She cooed sweet whispers of praise as she coaxed you through another orgasm, touching you in the ways she had always envisaged to see you come undone.

You came again with a silent gasp, your body too wrecked to have the strength for anything else. Natasha pumped her fingers steadily as she watched you and left kisses across your inner thigh to bring you back to her.

“Beautiful,” she commented as she withdrew her fingers and brought them up to her lips, staring at you with a satisfied smirk as she sucked on her digits. You watched her through hooded eyes, your frazzled brain trying to figure out how you were ever going to be able to part from the assassin.

“Mine,” she whispered as she kissed back up your chest, as though she knew what you were pondering. “Always mine.”

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #natasha x reader #marvel #natasha romanoff smut #toxic!natasha romanoff

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contentloadingandstuff · 1 month ago

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I'm literally unable to write. Not physically, I can write on my phone while my laptop's broken, but I'm just like a puppy, unable to focus on a single idea. My mood changes so fast and ideas of completely different vibes just flood my brain.

Here's a sample of how my thoughts course when I sit down and try to write something.

"Okay, that fic idea from the poll is nice... Actually somebody requested Shenhe in Dark Days, yes, that would be genius, I would write the fic from another character's perspective... Wait wait wait, I'm a bit sleepy, how about some cozy headcanons for sleep habits of the Genshin women? Yeah, Ganyu would be a cute little cuddlebug, Dehya would just pass out on top of her man and Shenhe would be an instinctual big spoon- Wait, I'm feeling frisky now, let's get on writing a fic where Reader is just a toy for Arlecchino and Signiora as they hate-fuck each other, yeah that would be wonderful; no wait I should write some whump, really make the characters cry! What could I do to the reader to really hurt them? Yes, he should be beaten up by an enemy and play tough guy, only to see that she is crying and taking it way worse than she usually does so he has to be vulnerable and, being hurt, be the one comforting her instead of the reverse. Oh! Or maybe something happens to reader and the woman is moody for the rest of the day and - contrary to her girlboss sort of image - reveals that what happened to her husband has unsettled or saddened her? Hm, but what about a simpler aesthetic fic that just glazes how beautiful their bodies are, how wonderfully they blend with movement and give off a strong, distinctive vibe? Maybe something comedic, maybe Yoimiya is an eternally horny little gremlin? Or maybe the reader is a stereotypical boob guy with only one thing on his mind, with the women teasing him about it? Or maybe something softer with the reader being a so-to-speak "mommy's boy" and his gal, like Yelan or Lisa indulges him, spoiling him like the cute boy he is? Damn, but what about motherhood? I'd love to write an adorable fic about the hybrid/inhuman girls with their adorable pups? Maybe Kirara piling into one big cuddle puddle with her kittens? Or Miko constantly being followed by a chaotic trail of mischievous and overtly active kits? Or maybe Ganyu cradling her daughter as she is carried around the city? I haven't done a second horror fic though... Maybe I should give that Ganzfeld attempt inspired fic a shot? uuUuUUUUuhh but I gotta make a continuation of the Down Bad series, with the men too - somebody requested it. But what about that Gorou X dog hybrid reader?! Man I need to get on to that someda- Wait a moment, how many requests are there?! Jesus Christ, I must be such a disappointment to the readers... What about Equals?! I need to post it too... And I need to make an Emilie fic... And I need to push through my holdup on that Mermay request, but it's the 21st of June! Oh my God... What have I need doing all this time...? Please for the love of god just focus on something and write it... Oh this is getting stressful to even think about! It's so hot too, I need to get water, I need to eat something, I've not slept for 20 hours, my plant has died, I need to fix my laptop and get to work on the translation... No, no this is too much I'm out. I'll try again later."

And so the page is as blank as it initially was. No change has occurred.

...

Come on, is this what I've devolved into?

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aleskyyy · 11 months ago

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Soulmate — Dean Winchester x Witch!Reader

What happens when Dean tries to break the bond between you and him?

Warnings— female reader, witch!reader, soulmate au, kissing, blood, injury, light angst, fluff etc.

1,2k words.

Main Masterlist Supernatural Masterlist

I warned you love never ends.

After a few hours at the bar Dean returns to the motel where he and Sam are staying after hunting down a werewolf. Before he drove his Baby to the motel he quickly texted Sam to come out for a few hours because Dean had a woman with him.

In less than fifteen minutes they were in the parking lot of the motel, the woman he had with him wrapped around his arm. Dean kissed her as soon as the motel room door closed. She kissed him back passionately. She ran her kisses from Dean's lips to his neck. Feeling that kiss made Dean's eyes closed to savor it.

Is the touch of her lips the same as mine?

Dean quickly opened his eyes when he heard the voice of a woman he had been trying to forget for months. He looked around but the room was empty, just him and the woman from the bar.

"What's wrong?" the woman asked Dean while trying to take off his jacket.

Dean looked at her then gasped when he saw your face instead. His steps backward, he roughly wiped his face then looked back at the woman in front of him. Your face had disappeared.

"No, I'm fine. I think I need some time to myself," Dean replied as he took the money and gave it to the woman in front of him. This wasn't the first time this had happened to Dean. And it was very frustrating for him.

The woman made an irritated grunt and took the money. She violently slammed the door to the room which made Dean sigh. Dean roughly took off his jacket and walked towards the bathroom. He stared at his reflection in the sink sharply, his breathing ragged.

He turned on the tap and washed his face, as he lifted his face and looked into the mirror he saw your reflection there smiling mockingly at him. Dean held the edge of the sink tightly. Staring intently at you.

"Stop all of this! Stop it!" Dean shouted and punched the mirror in front of him making your reflection disappear.

Soon Dean heard the sound of the bedroom door being opened harshly and found Sam calling his name in a panicked tone. Sam who found Dean in the bathroom with a bloody hand and a shard of broken mirror still stuck in it quickly brought Dean out and grabbed the medication kit.

"What's wrong, Dean?"

"She's back. Again."

Sam was silent for a moment. He knew who Dean was talking about. He slowly cleaned his brother's hand and bandaged the wound.

"I think it's time you went back to see her, Dean. I'm sure it'll drive you crazy if it continues like this," Sam suggested to his brother after he finished treating the wound.

Dean clenched his hands into fists, ignoring the pain in his right hand. He thought about Sam's words, over and over again. What Sam said was true, but Dean felt his ego would be hurt if he did that.

Thinking about all this made Dean remember what happened to him a few months ago. Where he met you while hunting a witch. You suddenly appeared to kill the witch who wanted to hurt him when the weapon he was using was thrown a few meters away from him.

When the witch died Dean saw you there. You are very beautiful with a black dress attached to your body. You're a witch who helped him kill your own kind. Even that night you helped Dean heal Sam from the dead witch's spell.

Dean being Dean, he started hitting on you. Even though Dean really dislikes witches, but somehow that feeling disappears when he sees you. He felt something that made him unable to dislike you. The couple of days he stayed in the town just to be with you made Sam tease him.

After five days together, you dared to talk about soulmates which is very rare for a witch to have. And Dean is your soulmate. After you explained that Dean started to pull away from you. He said that he wasn't the type of person who would stay in a relationship. And it hurt you so much, it was clear on your face when he said that. And the next day Dean left town leaving you without a single word.

"Dean?"

Dean looked at Sam waiting for his reply. He nodded shortly.

"I'll take you to the bunker, then I'll see her."

Dean stared at the road ahead. After driving for over six hours to take Sam to the bunker, he drove straight to your house which was four hours away. When he arrived in front of your house. A two-story house in a less crowded neighborhood. Dean took a deep breath then got out of his car and walked towards your house.

Before Dean could knock on your door, you had already opened it. Dean and you both paused to stare at each other. With a soft smile you asked him to come in. You led him towards the kitchen to make him a drink. A few minutes later you brought him coffee and placed it on the table.

"You look tired, Dean."

Dean just looked at you without answering.

"I know what happened to you, and believe me I didn't do anything. It always happens to someone trying to cut the bonds of a soulmate," you said explaining the situation he was in.

"So you went through that too?" asked Dean for the first time opening his voice.

Hearing his question you just shook your head with a smile still on your face.

"I don't want to break this bond, Dean. I'm still waiting for you. So I don't feel what you feel."

Dean stood up from his seat and walked over to you. He gently took you into his arms. He smelled the scent of your body that he had missed for months. You returned his embrace happily.

Although a few months ago you were hurt by what Dean did, you couldn't blame him completely. Hearing the stories about him and his brother being hunters and what they've been through in their lives, you don't blame Dean entirely for being afraid of starting a relationship.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for trying to break the bond between us," Dean says honestly.

Dean feels his heart begin to calm down as you return his hug. Dean buried his face in your hair. Saying the word sorry over and over again. He apologized for the past few months of forcing himself to forget you by looking for other women even though he never slept with them. Still, Dean felt a heavy sense of guilt.

"It's all good, Dean. We'll start everything from the beginning. We'll take it easy, there's no need to rush. We can get to know each other slowly."

Dean agreed to that instantly. He would learn to accept what happened to you. And Dean knows it won't be hard because he's been in love with you since he first met you.

"And you have the benefit of being with me, I can help you when hunting. I'm a good witch you know that," you said to break the ice.

Dean just laughed at what you said. He let go of your embrace and kissed your forehead lightly with both his hands on your cheeks.

"I think that's very beneficial."

I warned you love never ends.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester #supernatural #spnfandom #spn #sam winchester

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wileys-russo · 2 years ago

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Currently thinking about what a face time with alessia would be like whilst she’s in Australia and the readers at home because of work. Full of fluff and them just happy they get to talk to each other after a hard day, saying how much they miss each other

last bit of writing from me for a few days while i'm off on holiday! might post a couple blurbs if i have time maybe

time zones II a.russo

it was a warm evening on the east coast of australia and alessia was almost in disbelief it was winter in the foreign country. nearly all of the girls had been happily wearing shorts and tops each day at training, some of them even daring for a late afternoon swim.

alessia though was not that brave and had instead settled herself on the beach, bare legs spread out on a towel and top half kit out in one of your hoodies as she glanced up to watch her friends all race off toward the water, the early evening sun just beginning to dip beneath the horizon.

tucking an airpod into her ear alessia clicked dial on the facetime icon by your contact. the time in australia nearing 5:30pm would make it almost 8:30 in the morning for you back in England, as you'd sadly been unable to accompany alessias family to the tournament due to work.

you were a primary school teacher and alessia more than understood the commitment that meant, your passion and drive for teaching the next generation one of the many reasons she'd fallen so in love with you in the first place.

she had always loved kids, and seeing you speak so dearly about your students and how you interacted with them had meant she'd spent many an hour dreaming about what you would be like if the two of you one day had your own children, something that had never really crossed her mind before meeting you.

it was now saturday which meant you were finally able to speak with alessia freely, not needing to cut anything short to rush off to work. your routine so far while she was away had been the two of you speaking while you got up and ready and then during your drive to school before you'd have to then hang up.

due to time zones it was hard for alessia to stay up to call you once you'd finished which you assured you'd rather she not do anyway, wanting her to be as well rested and ready for the matches as she could be.

so mornings for you and afternoons for her were the perfect time for the two of you to call and catch one another up on what had been missed.

"good evening my love." you accepted the call and sung out happily, alessias smile widening seeing you were in one of her hoodies, and you were quick to make a joke that the two of you had the same thought considering she was currently wearing yours.

"good morning gorgeous, you look lovely." alessia complimented, tucking her knees up to her chest and moving her phone to rest against her water bottle, angling the camera upwards toward herself.

"mm yes with my bed hair, pyjama shorts and puffy eyes i clearly missed my calling as a model." you teased, moving your own phone to lean against the wall as you began to prep yourself breakfast.

"well you're glowing. australia looks good on you baby and so does happiness." you commented back with a soft smile, alessias heart melting at your words and wishing for nothing more than to just wrap you up in her arms and never have to let go.

"did you have a nice day? you had it off from training right?" you questioned, a slight sizzle heard as you tossed some diced bacon and peppers into a pan, intending to make yourself an omelette.

"we did! we went into town and to some local markets, then got some breakfast at a really cute cafe and just explored a little, it's so beautiful here. the coffee is something else! i think i'll need to smuggle some back with me." alessia grinned, indeed having somehow even fallen more in love with the caffeinated beverage since landing.

"some of the girls went whale watching but tooney made me stay back because she gets sea sick." alessia rolled her eyes, having felt immense fomo seeing all of the photos and videos from the outing.

"captain tooney gets sea sick?" you laughed, alessia forever ripping into her best friend for the horrendous time they'd all had when ella decided to drive them all round in a boat last summer on one of their days off.

"apparently so, and then instead she dragged me round shopping with roebuck and g for hours!" alessia moaned, her arms still sore from an afternoon spent helping them haul around their bags.

"that girls gonna need a second house just to store all her trainers!" you joked with a shake of your head, a comfortable silence falling between the two of you as alessia watched you cook.

the familiar domestic scene just made the heart ache that she wasn't with you right now worsen.

the two of you would always cook together and it was often the highlight of your days after grueling training on her end, or wrangling restless nine year olds for you.

since the two of you had started seeing one another this was the longest you would be separated and though it caused the two of you to be given endless grief from your friends you really were normally attached at the hip.

as a pair you were well known for forever making a one person job into a two person task. whether it be something as simple as alessia sitting on top of the washing machine keeping you company as you folded laundry or the numerous occasions you'd sit in the bathroom whilst alessia showered after training, the two of you chatting one anothers ears off about your days.

when you'd have to lesson plan for the week the blonde would always ensure at least one part of her body was touching yours at all times, if that was her head resting on your thigh, your back tucked securely into her front, or your legs draped in her lap as she traced absent minded shapes along the warm skin.

one time ella even swears she saw the two of you holding hands under the stall door while using the restroom, though both you and alessia knew she'd only spread that rumor to wind less up.

but thats not to say the two of you hadn't done other things in bathroom stalls together, never unable to keep your hands off one another for very long, especially when alcohol was involved on nights out.

"i miss you." alessia sighed, resting her chin on her fist as you looked up to meet the sad smile flashed your way, returning one of your own. "i miss you too." you agreed quietly, though as much as it was killing the two of you to be apart you would never ever do anything to hold her back from her career, nor would alessia with you, so sometimes sacrifices like this had to be made.

"i miss you more." alessia challenged perking up a little, playful glint returning to her eyes as you flipped the omelette, taking a bow at your girlfriends cheers. "i miss you most." you cheekily stuck your tongue out and disappeared out of frame to grab something from the fridge.

"i miss you more than the most." alessia countered before calling out for you to hurry up and return on screen. "you're so needy." you teased as the blonde rolled her eyes playfully, both of you well aware you were just as needy as each another.

"also you can't miss something more than the most, so therefore i win." you shrugged, returning to alessias sight as you turned the heat off the stove, moving the omelette over to a plate.

"says who!" alessia challenged, picking her phone back up as her legs began to cramp, standing to her feet and wandering off toward the water. "says the english language, and me." you sat down at the dining table, moving the phone so you were still in frame.

"well you're both wrong." alessia argued with a smile, eyes glancing off with a chuckle as she watched lucy absolutely body ella down and into the water after she splashed her.

"baby i literally teach english for a living, i can't be wrong!" you laughed after swallowing your mouthful of food. "look!" alessia flipped the camera around, showing the dazzling sunset as you squealed happily, alessia well aware how much you adored this time of day.

"take a photo of that for me please." you instructed as alessia promised she would. "it's almost as beautiful as you are." alessia quipped smoothly, grinning lovingly at the blush that spread across your face at the words. "charmer." you shook your head, smile tugging at your lips.

"oh god even on the other side of the world i can't escape youse two and your disgusting lovesick pining!" ella gagged as she appeared beside alessia, you glancing up and bursting out in laughter at the hot pink goggles on your friends face.

"what!" ella frowned, eyebrows furrowing in annoyance as you simply continued to laugh, clearly at her expense. "nice goggles you idiot." you managed to choke out, as the girl basically spent more time at yours and alessias flat than her own the two of you had formed quite the close bond.

"gotta protect the lashes, obviously!" the brunettes frown quickly disappeared as she wiggled her eyebrows goofily. "oh! did less tell you what happened last night?" tooney grinned as your girlfriends eyes widened and she tried to move away but ella snatched her phone, sprinting off away from her.

"we decided to go for a swim in the dark after we went in the spa-" ella started, pausing as she dodged alessia who caught up to her and ran off now in the other direction as the blonde yelled threats after her.

"-cause theres like lights on the beach and stuff and we only just dunked our bodies in and bolted-" a yell was heard and the screen went black for a moment before ellas head popped into frame again, you spotting your girlfriend over her shoulder still avidly chasing after her.

"-and we were running across the road to get back to the hotel and less of course tripped over and her slider went all the way up her leg-" ella continued with a loud laugh before a body hurtled into her, a flash of blonde tackling her to the ground.

"-and she couldn't get her slider off her leg and we had to cut it off!" alessias face now back on the screen you could hear ella dying from laughter on the ground beneath her, your girlfriend hitting her with a loud smack as ella cried out.

"less don't hit her!" you chastised, alessia ignoring you as she grappled with ella with her free hand, the two of them pushing and smacking one another around, their childish behavior nothing new to you.

"girls!" you called out again, firmer this time as alessia glanced to you, ella pushing her off and sitting up beside her inside. "ooo teacher voice!" the younger of the two called out teasingly, alessia joining in with a grin as you rolled your eyes at their sudden change of antics.

"it is not!" you protested with a pout before you heard the rest of the girls call out for the two as they were headed back to the hotel, ella wishing you goodbye before running off to join them.

"i'll call you back after dinner and we can watch a movie?" alessia asked hopefully as she gathered her things into her bag and began to walk off the beach. "it's a date. i love you!" you smiled softly.

"i love you, the most."

#woso #woso x reader #woso fanfics #alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #engwnt #woso imagine #woso blurbs

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harunade · 2 years ago

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get over it . haobin

pairing: best friends!haobin x f!reader

synopsis: your bf cheats on you but thankfully your best friends are there to help you get over him

warnings: smut , swearing , threesome, making out, hao is kinda mean but talks dirtily , hanbin is nice and sweet, oral ( f receiving), one haobin kiss, cum eating (?) , cumming inside, unprotected sex, end is kinda fluffy

a/n: hhhhh this is so long

It’s been three days, yet you were still cuddled up into your two best friends’ chests, sobbing. Your boyfriend of 2 years had cheated on you, and it left you so broken that you felt unable to do anything other than whine about it, Thankfully, Hanbin and Hao rushed to your place with a “make-yn-happy” kit, that involved tissues, candy and a bunch of other things. They have been with you ever since you found out, cooking you food and trying to distract you.

“Stop crying, Y/nie.” Hanbin was sat in front of you, hands on your face and swiping away your tears. “Your face is really hot, you might catch a fever if you keep going” he continued. “Yes, he isn’t all that anyway. You know i’ve hated him from the beginning” Hao, whose chest you were resting your back against, placed his head on your shoulder and looked up at you. “I know, i don’t know why I’m like this.” you sobbed a little more.

Hanbin and Hao gave each other looks. “Don’t be so harsh on yourself, girl. You’re cute and didn’t deserve that ugly ass boy anyway!” Hanbin cupped your face in his big hands and gently shook you, causing you to laugh. “I guess you’re right, Bin. I still feel like shit though.” you felt Hao’s hand lift your shirt gently and place his hands on your stomach. You shivered as they were cold, but actually perhaps your body temperature was over the top.

Hanbin’s hands lowered to your neck and he kept eye contact with the boy behind you for a mere second. “Say, Y/nie… We can help you feel better, probably way better than he ever made you feel. We can help you get over it, Would you agree with that?~” he rolled his last words as you nodded, too shocked to speak. “Speak up, pretty” the older boy moved all your hair to a side and placed a kiss on your neck, also pecking Hanbin’s hand in the meanwhile. “Y-Yeah..” you relaxed into his chest.

Hanbin got on his knees and slowly towered over you. “Can i kiss you?” you nodded as he quickly closed the gap between you two. His lips felt soft against your chapped ones. As the kiss deepened, you let his tongue enter your mouth, moaning at the sensation. In the meanwhile, Hao’s hands wondered higher inside of your shirt, reaching your breasts and toying with them. This made you moan louder into the younger boy’s mouth.

“You taste like the candy we brought you, i’m glad you like them.” you felt embarrassed but couldn’t do anything about it, as your head was quickly pulled to the side by Hao, who also connected your lips. The two kisses were different: Hanbin’s was soft and gentle, while Hao kissed you roughly and teasingly. “Mhm, he’s right” he murmured as you pulled away.

“Y/nie~ tell us, has your ex ever made you cum?” Hanbin brought your attention back to him. You got sad at the reminder of him, but also curious about what the two boys had planned for you. “I- well, i guess. He used to eat me out nicely but i don’t think i’ve ever came, also he never found my g spo-“ Hao interrupted you. “That’s enough. It’s settled then, i’ll fuck you and Hanbin’s gonna eat you out” you were startled by the sudden tone of the boy, he was more direct than usual but you didn’t dislike it. You were burning up with excitement, actually.

As you were seated between Hao’s legs, he used his own to open up yours, creating enough space for Hanbin to lower himself there. He looked really good. Noticing you were distracted, the older boy used it as an opportunity to pull your shirt off, immediately placing his hands on your bare boobs. “No bra? Is it possible that you were waiting for this?” you felt him smile while teasing you, which made you cover your face.

You didn’t notice Hanbin taking off your shorts, but you surely did the kiss he placed on your clothed core. You let out a moan as you melted under his touch and slid further down on the other boy’s chest. Hanbin pulled off your panties, licking a stripe up your pussy. The moan that was threatening to escape your mouth was swallowed by Hao who kissed you.

Your legs were thrown over Hanbin’s shoulders, who quickly began lapping at your cunt like a starved man. Hao took one of your hands in his, placing it in the boy’s hair, pushing him further into your pussy. “Look how much he’s enjoying it, baby. I bet you taste so sweet. That fucker didn’t deserve one bit of your perfect pussy.” he murmured against your lips, making the boy between your legs look up at the two of you through his bangs. You thought the sight itself would make you cum.

The dirty words that came out of Hao’s mouth combined with Hanbin’s skilled mouth is what make the knot in your stomach break. Hanbin quickly drank you whole as he pulled away, his chin covered in your juices, “Let me taste her” Hao pulled Hanbin by the back of his head, connecting their lips. You saw their tongues swirl around each other and it made you get even wetter. As they pulled away, Hanbin made sure to peck your lips as well as ruffle your hair. “You did well, sweetie. I hope you enjoyed it” his honest smile made your heart melt. “I did, Binnie, thank you so so much. I want to return the favour to you” he giggled. “Tonight’s about you, dear. Plus, i can’t steal you anymore, i fear Hao’s dick is gonna explode if you neglect him any more” you turned your head to him, and were met with a blushing and shy Hao. As shy as he tried to seem, the erection poking at your lower back told you otherwise.

The boys quickly switched places. Hao undressed himself and you saw him rub his red tip against your slick before entering you. You both moaned at the same time and you plopped your back into Hanbin’s chest.

As Hao bottomed out, he pulled away, leaving just the tip inside, before slamming his hips against yours. You cried out. “Be more gentle!” the boy behind you yelled at the older one, who just rolled his eyes. “I’m sure she likes it, don’t you, baby?” he questioned, as you just moaned out thanks to his rough thrusts. The closer you got, the louder your moans were. In fear of not waking up the neighbours, Hanbin shoved 3 of his fingers in your mouth. You sucked on them, hearing him groan.

“Fuck- i’m so close, baby” your attention was brought back to Hao, whose thrusts were now sloppy and messy. You mumbled something inaudible, which he didn’t even seem to acknowledge. “Can i fill your pretty pussy up? please, baby.” You nodded your head several times. Hao let a drop of salivs drop down on your pussy, as he rubbed your clit in circular motions. You felt overstimulated. Shortly after, you felt your womb being filled to the brim, which brought you to your own orgasm. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you rode out your high.

“Fuck, Bin, come see my cum drip out of her.” the younger boy was brought over as Hao pulled out, both watching your mix of liquids pour out of your pussy and forming a pool on your white sheets. “wow hyung, you really fucked her well, look at the mess she made.” Hanbin said as his fingers shoved the leaking cum back inside of you, which made you break a moan.

Both of them rushed to the bathroom to bring a wet cloth they got to clean you with. You were almost asleep when you felt a finger poke your cheek. “How are you feeling?” Hanbin asked and you noticed Hao’s head from behind. “Good, really good, thank you guys. Now come sleep with me please, and kiss me more goodnight ” in less than a second you were once again in between them with a thick blanket covering the 3 of you. Both of your cheeks were kissed at the same time by the boys who immediately snuggled up into you.

#harunade #zb1 hard hours #zb1 x reader #sung hanbin x reader #zhanghao x reader #hanbin smut #zhanghao smut #haobin #ok #idk how to feel abt this

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thetempleofthemasaigoddess · 18 days ago

Text

Halfway home (part 5)

Roronoa Zoro x vampire!reader. This is part five of five. (moodboard)

*****

An hour later you have moved to the castle, when Zoro has carried Tashigi to a spare room on the first floor, and you have retrieved a first aid kid from under the sink. It’s not your first time extracting a silver bullet from a wound not your own, so you’re not completely lacking in experience, even though until now you’ve always operated on another vampire who had asked for your help because they couldn’t do it by themselves.

She is still unconscious, having barely stirred while you cleaned her wound, but neither of you was willing to risk it and so you’ve tied both her hands and feet to the bed.

“You think she’ll survive? She’s lost a lot of blood.” Zoro points out softly as he observes you bandaging Tashigi’s shoulder, and you admit that you can’t be completely sure, but the wound has been cleaned before it could get infected, and she’s young and healthy enough to fight through the weakness and the bloodloss. You still remember there’s a hospital less than ten miles from the village, and you could bring her there should her condition worsen; it’d be a pain, but she might still be your ace to play in the game against the hunters.

“What do we do now?” Zoro asks as he joins you near a small table you have placed the first-aid kit on; he looks behind him to make sure your patient is still sleeping before meeting your eyes once more “You really think your father could convince the hunters to let me go?”

You blink, completely taken aback. “What? No, that’s… what makes you think he could?”

“Well, I thought… you were so desperate to get here, so sure he could help…”

“I was sure that you’d be safe while you remain here.” you explain. Your father is one of the most powerful vampires in existence, his centuries of life having made him practically indestructible and capable of going toe-to-toe with a whole army of hunters; not even the Chaser would dare attack him.

“And then?”

“Then what?”

“(name)... no offense, but I don’t want to spend the rest of my life under your father’s roof.” your swordsman points out “I’d be a prisoner on this island, which believe me, it’s not for me. I have school, a job, a tournament to prepare; I want to go home, live my life.”

He looks at you, stubborn and determined, waiting for a solution you’re unable to find, a solution that likely doesn’t exist; remaining on the island for the foreseeable future is far from a pleasant prospective, but it’s the only one you have, at least for the time being.

“Zoro… I’m sorry, but you can’t.” you start slowly, taking his hand in yours like you would do with a person to whom you have to announce a terrible loss “The hunters know about you, about your blood; you might be their only way to exterminate vampires forever, they’ll never stop hunting you, and that is something no one, no matter how powerful, can change.”

His hand is brusquely withdrawn from your grasp; you can see panic rising in Zoro’s eyes. “You’ve got to be joking.”

“I wish I were. Zoro, what did you expect? That we could negotiate with the hunters, find a solution that satisfied both parts? That’s not how it works; when the Chaser and those fanatics like him want something, or someone, they never stop until they get it, even if it means sacrificing their comrades, even if it means killing innocents. They want your blood, and believe me, they won’t stop after a couple blood tests; they’ll probably keep you in a cage too small for you to turn in, or amputate your feet to make sure you can’t escape. Being here is not ideal, but at least you’ll be safe - or safer than anywhere else. You might never return to your life; hundreds of people all over the world are hunting you. The moment you step on dry land, they’ll kill you.”

Zoro stares at you: it is only now, you realise in horror, that he actually realises the danger he’s in, that your father’s island is not the end of your troubles but only a prison where he might be safe as long as the hunters don’t become crazy enough to challenge him. It’s a lot to swallow, even for a person as strong and resilient as he is, and so you can’t very well blame him when Zoro lets himself fall on a chair and takes his head in his hands.

“I’m so sorry, darling.” you murmur “I wish there were another solution.”

Once again he looks at you; he’s desperate, more than you’ve ever seen him, maybe more than he’s ever been in his life, but slowly another emotion emerges in his eyes: anger.

“I thought you knew what you were doing.” he accuses you “Is this really it, (name)? Do you expect me to remain here forever, alone? Is this really your plan?”

Those words hit a nerve. “Don’t blame me! Do I have to remind you this whole story has nothing to do with me? It’s you the hunters want, and I’m just doing my best to protect you!”

“I don’t need to be protected!” “Yes you do, you imbecile! You can’t win against them, Zoro, no matter how great a swordsman you are! Do you want to leave? Be my guest. But when in a week you’ll find yourself begging the hunters to kill you, the fault will be yours alone!”

You’re shaking with anger, aware of Zoro’s reasons just like eighty years ago you were of your father’s, and at the same time so disappointed and hurt by his accusations that you can’t stand being in his presence. You take a step back, biting your tongue to keep things you don’t mean from escaping your lips, and turn.

“There’s a kitchen at the end of the staircase on the left; you should eat something before you leave.” you say “Don't let the door hit you on the way out.”

Zoro grunts, frustrated. “(name), don’t be stupid, I…”

“Good-bye, Zoro.”

You close the door behind you and linger for a moment in the corridor outside, a small part of you hoping Zoro will follow you out, apologise and tell you that he understands you’re doing the best you can and you’re not responsible for his expectations being too high.

It doesn’t happen, and after a while you decide to stop feeling sorry for yourself and walk towards the library in the east wing.

You were almost sure you’d find him here and here he is, sitting on a comfortable armchair with a large book on his lap and a glass in his hand. Placed against the armrest is Yoru, your father’s huge black sword; he once told you the blade’s colour is due to the quantity of hunters’ blood that had stained it.

And then there’s your painting, hanging in the place of honour on the wall to the right side of the door, so that your father can easily look at it from his favourite chair. You haven’t visited your old bedroom yet and therefore had no way of knowing it had been moved from there, where you had hung it personally after your father had gifted it to you; the gilded frame surrounds a portrait of a you who had only a few months to live and grow before being turned into a vampire, sitting in her prettiest dress with a bouquet of flowers in her arms.

It’s a lovely portrait, a much-appreciated gift that you had been proud to receive, having suspected nothing since your father had painted it in secret, rather than asking you to pose for him. The thought that he decided to move it to the room he spends much of his time makes you feel… you don’t know exactly; maybe there is no specific name for that emotion, and you only know it’s impossible to ignore it.

“Is your prisoner still alive?”

“For the time being.” you acknowledge as you turn and move to take your place on the seat in front of his -placed there deliberately, like no doubt it’s not coincidence or mistake that there’s a second glass near the carafe on the table near your father’s elbow, which he unhurriedly fills and then offers to you- “Even though I might decide it would have been better to let her die. Father… she’s a hunter.”

He doesn’t look surprised, but you see his expression, reserved in the best of cases, tense as he observes you swallow the content of your glass in two long gulps, the blood pleasantly warm as it fills your stomach; you had already drunk your usual dose earlier, but you’re still thirsty, and to be fair, over the last eighty years, when weren’t you?

Your father is still observing you, after decades of separation still uncomfortably able to perceive what you think -that you’ve missed him, despite everything- how you feel -hurt for Zoro’s words- and what you want -beg him for help the way parents so often have to do when their children mess up and don’t know how to make things right- and despite all waiting for you to speak your mind.

You spent so many hours in this room. Your father chose against sending you to the village’s school, both because of logistical difficulties -classes started in the morning, and you couldn’t very well steer a boat by yourself when you were five- and out of a personal preference for homeschooling. Strict but patient, he taught you everything he knew, from reading and writing and counting to complex notions of mathematics and history and foreign languages, enough to pass the entrance exam to any prestigious university; six days a week, you bolted the windows in the room and you sat together at the table for hours, and at times you grew bored, and frustrated, even angry when your father decreed that you ought to remain sitting for another hour working on your homeworks, but you never knew that decades later you would think back to those moments and wish you had cherished them as they deserved.

“I’m sorry if I came unannounced.” you murmur in the end; you struggle to meet his eyes, but you’re not sure whether that is due to the natural intensity of his gaze, or to the guilt gnawing at you “And I brought other people, I know you don’t like uninvited guests. But I really didn’t know what else to do…”

“Are you in danger?”

“Not more than any other moment, really; it’s about Zoro. He…”

You end up telling him everything, and if your father is surprised, even astonished to discover a cure to vampirism whose effectiveness you experienced personally actually exists and it’s hidden in the veins of the young man now brooding only a few corridors from you, he’s as usual able to disguise his emotions behind a calm, collected expression.

“I see.” he comments in the end as he drinks another sip from his glass “So that is why the hunters want him. And you want me to let him stay here? As a guest in my house, potentially forever? Do you not think this would be unfair to everyone involved, (name)?”

“I’m sorry…”

Your father points out that he didn’t ask you to apologise, and while he can see that bringing Zoro to the island to protect him from the hunters was the safest thing to do given your circumstances, that state of affairs will soon become unsustainable. “I am not afraid of the hunters, not even of this fabled Chaser, but they have strength in numbers; if they decide to storm the island and kidnap your friend, I cannot guarantee they will not succeed.”

“I know. Zoro is not… particularly elated about remaining here for the rest of his life either, no offense.” you rush to add, not wanting your father to think ill of your swordsman.

“He wields three swords. Interesting.”

“He’s a very capable swordsman, father; you should see for yourself.”

“We will see; as you know, I’ve grown more selective regarding the opponents I grant a challenge.” he comments, the shadow of a smile gracing his lips, and then silence falls between you, a silence not unpleasant per se, but heavy with unaddressed matters you’ll have to discuss sooner or later.

“I’m grateful, truly.” you murmur after a while, eyes still trained on your knees “To you for letting us stay here. Especially since I brought a hunter here, and another human, and… well, what I said before I left.”

“I wish I never met you! I wish you had left me to die that night. How could you do this to me? I hate you, and I’ll hate you forever! If I return here it will be to plunge a stake in your heart!”

Your father sighs, observing you with the sort of disappointment that made you squirm so unpleasantly when your homework was not up to his expectations. “(name), I thought you’d know this still is, and forever will be, your home. What you said makes no difference.”

“So you’re not angry?”

“Would it make you feel better if I were?”

A little. You don’t say it, but you know the answer is easy to read on your face. You feel guilty, and you hate it, because no matter how understandable his reasons, and how you’ve learned to be content, even happy, in your eternal life, you still feel angry, powerless, a victim of an injustice you have no way of making right.

Should the fact that he’s now giving shelter to you and Zoro, while you have in turn brought hunters to his door and potentially put his home in danger, earn your father your forgiveness? You’re not sure; he surely wouldn’t want you to forgive him only because you feel you have too, while still harbouring resentment for his actions.

“(name)?” your father presses you; kindness and gentleness are words few would associate with Dracule Mihawk, and he’s always had little patience with uncertainty and anything he perceives as weakness, but you can still feel affection in his voice - the voice of a man willing to lose you if it meant ensuring you would survive. “Speak to me, child. What are you thinking?”

You’re about to answer -to say what, you’re not sure- when suddenly you’re no longer alone, and Zoro has just stepped through the door.

“Err… I’m sorry.” he says awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as he clearly perceives having interrupted an important conversation “I was going to the kitchen.”

You sigh inwardly, well aware of Zoro’s abysmal sense of direction and yet unable to believe he could have gotten so lost he practically crossed half the castle rather than simply walking down the stairs and then passing through a door.

A silent look passes between you and your swordsman; you smile shily, hoping it’s enough to communicate how sorry you are about your recent row, and Zoro grins, a wink silently expressing his own apology. Peace is made between you; at times, you think wistfully, it is that easy, others a little less.

“Come inside, Roronoa.” your father invites him, and Zoro obeys, walking towards a third chair that he pulls close to yours, while his eyes linger on Yoru.

“That is a beautiful sword.” he murmurs, almost reverent “I had never seen a black blade.”

“It is vampire magic that makes it so.”

“Really?”

“No.” your father says, completely serious “I might teach it to you if you’re interested… and if you are strong enough, that is.”

Zoro grins; he has perceived the challenge issued to him and he’s determined to live up to it. “Of course I am.” he proudly states.

“Very sure of yourself, I see. But I know (name) would not have granted her friendship to someone unworthy of it.”

“As I said, father.” you intervene, happy to see the two people you are fondest of in the world interact and find a common ground “Zoro is an exceptionally talented swordsman, maybe the best I have met since I left home.”

“I will be the judge of that. Still, I believe we have a more pressing matter to address, have we not?”

You do, and the thought is enough to dampen whatever good mood you had left. Zoro sits by your side, his hand and yours quickly finding each other.

“As I was discussing with (name), I cannot promise my presence here on Kuraigana will be enough to deter the hunters from attacking to take you, Roronoa.” your father starts “As things start at the present, they might never stop hunting you, which I understand is a doom you would rather avoid.”

Zoro grunts. “What if I challenge that… Chaser? If I kill him, will they stop?”

“I doubt it. That might offer us a moment of respite, but nothing more; someone else will simply take over the hunt, and then someone else again, and again. There are hundreds of hunters in this country alone, and if the news regarding your blood spreads they might come from every corner of the world to find you.” you say; there is literally no good news to add to that hopeless analysis, no silver lining to compensate for the prospect of Zoro having literally no safe place to hide in the world, not now, not ever. It’s not your fault, you’ve probably done all you could already, and yet you can’t help feeling guilty for it “Unfortunately the hunters know Zoro’s face, and since Tashigi met us at the village they might be already on their way.”

A moment of quiet follows; you are about to propose accompanying Zoro to the kitchen, since him starving won’t help your cause when

“Vampirization might help a little.”

“... what?”

“Turning a person into a vampire dramatically alters the composition of their blood.” your father points out, unhurriedly taking another sip from his glass “It is reasonable to think that whatever element in Roronoa’s acts as a sort of cure against vampirism would not survive the transformation; if that happens, he would no longer be of interest for the hunters. He would, of course, still be in danger, since many hunters swear to vanquish any vampire they can put their hands on, but not more than any of us, not to mention that his augmented strength and speed might also be of help. Have you… discussed this matter before?”

You haven’t, and your and Zoro’s gazes meet only for a moment before quickly separating. Since vampires are immortal, and humans aren’t, mixed couples cannot hope to spend more than a few decades together unless the human partner is turned. Since the process is irreversible, there are a number of problems that can arise from it, especially if the couple breaks up or the formerly human partner comes to regret their choice.

You had never thought of discussing the possibility with Zoro, since no matter how sincerely fond you are of each other, the two of you have only been together for a few weeks, and while he’s an adult, old and mature enough to decide how to live his life, you’re not sure you could take the responsibility of changing another person’s life forever and incontrovertibly, especially not after your own choice was taken from you. On his part he has never raised the issue, maybe because he doesn’t mind aging and dying while you remain young forever, or because it’s simply too important a topic to discuss at the present stage of your relationship. Or maybe it’s because he doesn’t care about me enough to change his whole existence for the chance of spending eternity by my side…

Awkwardness has filled the room; you can see amusement in your father’s eyes as they move from you to Zoro and back. “I apologise, it was not my intention to… make you feel uncomfortable.”

“It’s not your fault; it’s just…” you begin, and then, not knowing how to continue, you simply stop short, while Zoro finally turns to look at you.

“Have you ever turned someone into a vampire?”

“Never.”

“And would you…”

“Yes?”

“Nothing.” Zoro quickly answers, as if regretting the question before even asking it “Changing the subject, we have that girl tied and gagged upstairs; can’t she be useful in some ways?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know; maybe we could force her to tell us what the other hunters are planning.”

Your father points out that to be fair, you already know: if the hunters at least suspect the two of you have reached the island, it stands to reason that they will focus their efforts there, either launching a mass attack or at least encamping at the village to wait for you to come out. It’s a stalemate, and while the island is fortified against attackers and almost completely self-sufficient, thanks to the fields he has been farming for decades and the occasional mandrill to roast on a spit, a long-term siege might prove to be unsustainable, not last because he doesn’t relish the idea of being a prisoner in his own home.

“We could find a way to evade.” he adds, clearly unenthusiastic about the prospect “Or you could, even though it would be dangerous; but wherever you’ll go, Roronoa, you’ll be in danger, as well as anyone who helps and protects you.”

Zoro nods; he doesn’t speak, but you know he’s thinking about his tournament, which might sound childish -what difference does a single, simple sport event make when one’s own life and freedom are at stake?- but it isn’t, because the sword for Zoro is much more than a hobby or a way to keep fit… it’s his life, and if he can’t pursue it, training and improving and competing against other athletes, maybe that life is not worth living, be it a few decades long or more…

You stand. “Come, I’ll accompany you to the kitchen.” you say gently, offering him your hand; Zoro blinks, as if in his sorrow he had forgotten how famished he was, and silently follows you outside. You linger at the door for a moment, the silent look of your father following you.

You have never been a great cook, mainly out of lack of necessity, but your father made sure you’d be able to feed yourself in your youth, and recently you had taught yourself to prepare Zoro’s favourite dishes, to surprise him over dinner at your place. This isn’t exactly how you imagined it would happen, but you can’t help smiling as you observe your swordsman wolfing down the content of the plate you have just put in front of him, taking advantage of your father’s perennially stocked pantry.

“That was very good!” he says in the end.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. Why don’t you pour yourself a glass? I want to take care of the dishes first.”

Zoro tells you he doesn’t mind helping with the washing up, and so a minute later you’re both standing in front of the sink, your swordsman drying the clean plates and pans as you pass them to him. It feels nice, you reflect after a while, as if you were still the young girl sharing a dinner with her father -who didn’t need food, but he knew you enjoyed his company- and then helping him to clean up, or as if this was your and Zoro’s home, the home of a couple of lovers contently sharing housework at the end of yet another work-day.

“Do you ever think about it? Turning me into a vampire, I mean.” Zoro asks after a while, and suddenly it’s like you had never seen anything as interesting as the soapy water in the basin in front of you.

“You know I would never do it without your explicit consent.”

“I know, but that’s not what I asked.”

“No, it’s not.” you admit as you take care of the last item to clean, a pot you used to cook the rice, and then dry your hands on a rag “Over the last decades, ever since I left this island, I haven’t had many friends, even among my own kin, in part because vampires are naturally solitary beings, in part, perhaps, because I’m like that, and since I have spent my youth alone with my father here opening myself to others has never been easy to me.”

Zoro looks at you, his arms to his chest. “Well, you’ve opened yourself to me.” he notes, and then he blushes, as if afraid you could misunderstand the meaning of his words “I mean…”

“I know what you mean. And yes, even before developing feelings for you I felt a… a pull towards you; I knew I could trust you, and that you would become important to me, which you have. And this scares me, Zoro; because even though I am still young, a child by the standard of my kin, I have seen people I cared for die, vampires to hunters and humans to old age, and it hurts - it hurts a lot, to be always the one who stays, who loses and mourns. And I know that being a vampire doesn’t necessarily make things easier, quite the opposite in fact, since we are hunted all over the world and mere sunlight can kill us, but sometimes I think that in a few decades at most you’ll be gone, and I’ll probably still be here, and… and I can’t stand it.”

A pause.

“And I, I admit, am tempted.”

You take his hands in yours, meet the gaze of his warm brown eyes and kiss him hard. Reacting to an impulse burning in your belly, you let your fangs grow a little, just enough to delicately bite your swordsman’s lips, eliciting a moan that is half pain and half lust from his throat, and that sounds a lot like your name; Zoro hungrily kisses you back, and a moment later you’re pressed against the kitchen counter, strong hands holding your hips, your swordsman’s chapped lips making you feel as if your heart, still for decades, had started beating again.

It feels amazing, of course; sweet and passionate, as it always is between you and Zoro, and yet it breaks your heart, because no matter how solid and warm and real his body feels in your arms -one wrapped around his waist, the fingers of the other running through his short green hair- you can already feel him slip from your fingers.

“I shouldn’t have told you.” you murmur, having broken the kiss when you realised Zoro was struggling to breathe; you hide your face against his shoulder, in part to bask in the warmth of his body, in part because you don’t dare meet his eyes. “God, I’m such a hypocrite… I blame my father for what he did to me, and all I want is for you to be safe, but…”

… but part of me would be tempted to make sure you do, even if you hadn’t asked, even if you refused. I know it’s wrong, I know you would hate me and I would lose you, and it would break my heart, but I wouldn’t care; if it meant giving you just one more chance of survival, I would do it. I would rather have you distant but safe, than seeing you die in my arms.

You don’t say it, you’re too ashamed to speak what you actually feel, but Zoro knows you well enough to perceive it all the same, and rather than being horrified and disappointed, he holds you tight, kissing your hair as you hide your sniffles against his shoulder.

“It’s alright.”

“No, it’s not…”

“Well, no.” he admits quietly “And I’m not saying I wouldn’t be angry if you turned me against my will, and I really don’t want you to do it, but… I don’t know, sometimes people do the wrong thing for the right reason; and that doesn’t necessarily solve everything, but it has to count for something, right?”

He is right, you think as you dry your tears, and maybe eighty years is too long a time to waste with resentment, even for potentially immortal creatures like you. You enjoy the warmth of Zoro’s embrace for a moment more before letting go; he smiles at you, glad to see you more at ease.

“You know, since I know you haven’t chosen to become a vampire… this.” he says gesturing vaguely at his body, and the blood running in the veins inside it “Might be the solution; we know a single sip only makes you return human for a few minutes, but there might be a way to make the effect permanent.”

There might be, and as you consider the possibility, you’re surprised, and a little ashamed, to discover you’re not as elated at the prospect as you thought you’d be. As Zoro said, you became a vampire against your will, but eighty years later you have gotten used to it, even learnt to find happiness in your immortality; you thought this would be your life forever, or at least until a hunter’s stake found your heart or you decided you had enough and opened the door to walk into the midday light. The chance of going back, to return to what you were, feels unreal, and… well, you are not sure you actually want it; not at all.

“I’m such an idiot…”

“Hey, stop it; blaming yourself helps nothing.” Zoro says, slipping his hand in yours “Shouldn’t we go check on Tashigi?”

You really should, it turns out, since by the time you and your swordsman step into the room you are using as her cell, your prisoner, deceptively strong for her petite frame, is two minutes away from freeing her ankles from the sturdy rope securing her to the bed’s footboard. Hate burns in her eyes -her glasses have fallen to the floor, no doubt as she squirmed to free herself- as you hold her legs down so that Zoro can tie her again.

“You know, there’s a cage in the basement we used to keep mandrills in before killing them for dinner; you would only fit inside it curled up. Should I go take it?”

“Do what you want!” she spats at you; she’s terrified of what you might decide to do to her, and not particularly good at hiding it, but you have to admit she’s being braver than you gave her credit for “Do you really think I’m afraid of you? You can’t hide on this island forever. Smoker will kill you, (name), and then they’ll use every drop of your friend’s blood for their experiments! That’s what you deserve, you traitor!”

Neither of you bats an eyelid at that litany of threats. “You know what I have noticed, Tashigi?” you say, your tone conversational as you sit on the edge of the bed, as if the two of you were a couple of friends in the middle of a slumber party “That this is at least the second time you call the Chaser by what I assume to be his real name. Am I wrong?”

Your question receives no answer, but the blush that spreads over your prisoner’s face proves that you’ve hit the mark.

“Now, over the last few decades I’ve learnt quite a few things about hunters, especially from those who tried to kill me and then spilled the beans in the hopes that I would let them go.”

You grin, making sure your fangs are in full display.

“Between you and me: I didn’t. Still, one thing I learned is that hunters use codenames, since their work is all hush-hush and they don’t want vampires to retaliate against their friends and family. Still, you know the Chaser -the most formidable hunter in this country-’s name.”

Tashigi shrugs, as much as she can. “As I said, he trained me; we’ve known each other for years, and one day I happened to hear someone outside our organization call him by name. It happens, even if it should not.”

“I’m sure it does; but two mistakes in such a short time… it makes me suspect you are actually more used to calling him by his real name than by his moniker. Or, at least, to think about him as Smoker rather than as the Chaser, you know what I mean?”

Silence.

“What might it mean, I wonder; maybe you actually knew each other before he became your trainer, maybe your relationship is closer than you want the world to believe. I know hunters are supposed to be celibate, in order to focus all their energies on the fight against vampires and all that crap, but I wonder if you and Chaser aren’t actually closer than a trainer and a pupil should be…”

“It’s not like that!” Tashigi protests, the furious blush on her cheek betraying her opinion on the matter; you don’t really care about her little crush on her trainer, but then you share a look with Zoro, both struck with the same thought.

“If they are so close, you think he would want her back safe and sound? Enough to promise to let us go?” he proposes, to which your prisoner huffs.

“Are you out of your mind? Hunters do not negotiate with vampires!”

“Not even if it meant saving a comrade?”

“Not even if it meant saving every other hunter in this country; this is how we work, no matter how cruel it might seem, and Sm- and the Chaser knows it better than anyone else.”

“Then maybe (name) should bite you and turn you into a vampire.” Zoro provokes her “And then we’ll send you back to your friends, can you imagine the sort of welcome they’ll have in store for you?”

The helpless rage in Tashigi’s eyes has reached its boiling point. “You… bastard!” she screams, writhing with all her might in a desperate attempt to free herself “Let me go and fight me, I swear I’ll kill you both…!”

You leave Tashigi shouting insults and threats as you leave the room, closing the door behind you; you and your swordsman share a glance, your thoughts so in sync they barely need to be spoken out loud.

“It might not work.” Zoro predicts “Hell, it will probably not work.”

“I know.” you agree.

“And it will be dangerous.”

“Very dangerous.”

“I should go alone.”

“Out of the question, Zoro.”

“(name)...”

“Out of the question, I said; we started this thing together and together we will end it.” you say, taking his hand “All we need to decide is what to ask for exactly.”

You discuss for a few minutes before stepping into the room once again. Tashigi has stopped thrashing around; she stares at you, eyes wide with fear and helpless rage - two feelings you can sympathise with, despite everything.

“What are you going to do to me?”

“Nothing, unless you force us to; but I need you to do something for us.”

Zoro retrieves his phone from his pocket to show it to your prisoner. “Why don’t you give us your trainer’s number?” he asks “We’d like to have a word with him.”

Being the daughter of a powerful swordsman, it was perhaps destiny that you ended up developing feelings for a man who is equally -that is, fanatically- devoted to the same art, who considers his swords a part of himself and would be ready to risk his life in order to win a duel.

Zoro and your father differ in many respects, but they seem to have already developed a certain respect for each other, which makes you extremely happy. You stand in a corner, silent in order not to disturb, as you observe the duel, which started hours ago; Zoro is wielding all three his swords, while your father has given his adversary the honour of battling him with Yoru rather than with the Kogatana, the tiny knife he wears as a pendant around his neck. The battle is violent, even brutal, powerful slashes exchanged on both sides as the two swordsmen move around the large empty room on the ground floor that serves as the castle’s training grounds; your father’s elegant, almost preternaturally rapid movements contrast with the younger man’s desperate strength as he tries to keep up and score at least one point against a still largely superior opponent. He can’t -he would have to train for a few more centuries before having a chance of going toe to toe with your father- but he’s giving his best shot, even though he has to know he’s destined to lose, and you smile to yourself, proud of him and of his courage.

In the end, the duel concludes. Zoro lies on the floor, his breath short and his body littered with superficial wounds, while your father walks towards you, having not even broken a sweat in the course of the long duel.

“How did it go?”

“He’s quite acerbic, which was to be expected given his young age, but your friend does have potential, however raw. A few centuries more and he could become great.”

It’s probably the warmest compliment your father would be capable of giving. “I’m glad you think that.” you admit “I was afraid you would try to kill him because you don’t approve of the two of us together.”

“Believe me, (name), if I had objected to your relationship your friend’s decision to challenge me would have been the last of his life.”

“Father…”

“I am merely joking, child.” he says, even though the tone of his voice says otherwise “Young Roronoa told me about your plan for tonight. It is quite hazardous.”

You nod, admitting that while you are both aware of the risks, you couldn’t find any other way to break the impasse you found yourself in, relatively safe but trapped on the island while the hunters wait to ambush you as soon as you step outside.

“We will find a way to return to the mainland if it fails; I don’t want you to be… besieged here.” you add, and your father sighs, looking as vaguely disappointed as he did in your youth, when you still couldn’t solve that differential equation after he had explained the method to you for the second time.

“(name), as I said already, this is still your home, and it will always be, no matter that you’ve been away for a thousand years, no matter that you hate me. You, and by extension anyone who accompanies you, will always be welcome here; you do not have to ask for permission, nor to feel guilty if its sanctuary is breached.”

“It’s just that… I know you enjoy the peace and quiet of this place, so…”

“I do; but even more I enjoy having you here, or at least knowing that you can return at any moment, even and especially if it is not a matter of life and death.” he points out, taking your hands in his; he glances back at Zoro, as if to check your swordsman is still prostate on the floor as he fights to get his breath back -he is- and is therefore unable to witness the moment you’re sharing. He’s not a kind man, he even struggled to be when you were a child too young to know he was just like that, he wasn’t crossed with you and hadn’t suddenly decided he didn’t care for you anymore, but you never had to doubt that he loved you, that he only wanted what’s best for you, and that he’d defend you with his life if necessary.

Wrong things done for the right reasons. It doesn’t excuse his behaviour, not completely at least, and you still believe you have every right to be angry with him, but…

“I don’t hate you.” you murmur quietly, eyes downcast “I… I don’t think I ever did, to be honest. I was just so angry, and… and I needed to get away; I needed to find out who I was, apart from your daughter, and to see the world beyond this island. That’s why I left; and then it was too hard, and too painful, to return.”

Your father sighs, this time sounding wistful rather than disappointed. “I know, child. If you remember, I never opposed your plan to depart to see the world and find your path beyond the borders of this island; but it is true that while I promised to respect your wish to remain human, even though it meant that one day I would see you die… I found out that I could not, especially when that moment had come decades before it had any right to.”

You still remember that moment as if it were yesterday; sometimes the memory fills your mind unbidden, and then you’re forced to close your eyes, press your hands to your ears, and scream silently as tears fall down your cheeks. Sometimes you even have daymares about it; not the sort you wake up screaming from, rather you remain huddled under your blanket, as if that were enough to keep you hidden from the eyes of the world, feeling your heart break even though it has been still for decades.

It was all already decided. You were an adult, ready to depart to explore the world outside Kuraigana, get an education, maybe even find friends. You would return to visit your father, of course, because you’d miss him terribly and he’d still be your family, and your home, but your destiny lay in the world outside; at the time you were sure, your suitcases packed, a ferry ticket bought in your name for a city far away…

And then the accident, even more tragic because easily preventable. If only you hadn’t realised soon before going to bed -at night, for what would end up being the last time in your life- that you had left your book in the glade near the cliffs where you and your father had had an evening picnic a few hours earlier, and decided that you simply had to retrieve it immediately, because you were just a chapter away from the end and you wanted to finish reading it before your departure.

If only you had asked your father to go take it for you, or at least to come with, since his eyes were at the time much better suited than yours to see in the dark, not to mention that he knew every inch of the island like the palm of his hand, and he would therefore know about that particular spot near the area you had sat together in earlier, where it was so easy to lose one’s footing and slip.

If only you hadn’t fallen, plunging into the void below from a height that should have killed you but which you survived, albeit breaking what felt like every bone of your body, the pain diffused and intense enough to bring tears to your eyes, and if only you had at least been able to call for help, so that your father would hear and find you earlier than he did - that is several hours later, having noticed almost by accident you had disappeared and then searched the whole island as he cried your name.

If only. If only. If only.

You still remember the moment he found you, the undisguised horror in his eyes as he kneeled on the forest floor and held you in his arms, begging you softly not to die, not to go, because he wouldn’t know what to do without you. He really did, and you heard him perfectly even in your pain-induced haze, and then you remember determination filling his eyes as he gently tilted your head to the side to expose your neck, and terror taking over you, the helpless sensation of a tiny prey seeing a hungry monster looming over it.

He didn’t ask you to change your mind, to give your assent to what he was about to do; he couldn’t know you were unable to speak after all, and perhaps he feared his resoluteness would fail him if you clearly stated once more you didn’t want it. Forgive me, my darling; but I am not ready to live in a world you are no longer part of, he said before revealing his fangs, and that was the moment you finally lost consciousness until two hours later, when the windows in your room had been closed and you awoke lying on your bed, healthy and whole and safe, but human no more.

You fought then, and you cried and screamed and cursed him and wished you had been left to die at the harbours all those years before, but nothing mattered anymore. You were a vampire, already thirsty for blood and weak to sunlight, and while pained for the sorrow he had caused you your father never apologised, stoically bearing the insults and reprimands you shouted against him and not even attempting to stop you from leaving as had been your plan all along. I will never return here, as long as I live, you told him, and you held on to that promise for eighty years… until now.

Neither of you speaks for a moment, your hands still held in his; out of the corner of your eye you can see Zoro has sat up, but he doesn’t move to approach, having perceived the moment you and your father are sharing cannot be interrupted.

“I will not apologise for what I did, (name).” he murmurs in the end; as usual his voice is firm, as rigid and uncompromising as the steel of his sword, but you still know him well enough to detect tenderness in it, that feeling he has always and only reserved to you “Both because it would serve nothing, and because it would mean I regret it, and I do not. And because of this I know I do not deserve it, but… I still hope that one day you can find it in your heart to forgive me. I wish we could go back to what we once were.”

You want that too; in your heart you know it, no matter how ashamed you feel of it. “It might take me a while.” you admit sadly, and even though you can’t see him you feel your father grin.

“We are vampires, darling; time is a commodity we have in abundance.”

His lips kiss your brow; you step forward slightly, your head still bent, just enough for his arms to wrap around your shoulders, and for a minute or many you simply hold each other, words unnecessary between you as they have always been. A bright new day has spread over the island, its light more than sufficient to kill you in a heartbeat if you ever stepped outside, but here, in the castle that has been your home more than all the temporary apartments you have inhabited over the last eighty years combined, held by the arms of the man who despite everything you have never stopped loving and trusting, you feel protected, secured against both the sun and the hunters determined to pass over your dead body to get to Zoro.

For the first time in so long, you feel safe.

The murmur of the waves lapping at the hull of the boat is the only sound breaking the heavy, almost anticipatory silence as you and Zoro sit quietly under the midnight moon; the sea surrounds you in every direction, the island you departed from and the village hidden in the shadows equally distant in the two directions.

You decided to meet here, on neutral grounds, to prove to the hunters your proposal was made in good faith and you’re not planning on ambushing them, and in the hopes that they will reserve you the same courtesy. The arrangement does constitute a danger for you, given the running water sloshing under the fragile metal hull of the boat; Zoro is an excellent swimmer, but you don’t even want to know what would happen if you fell overboard, given your kin’s weakness to running water. You can’t exactly drown, since you don’t breathe, so perhaps you’d spend the rest of eternity lying on the seafloor, awake and unable to move, staring at the fish swimming above you and waiting for someone to pull you out…

Just like last night, Tashigi is hogtied between the two of you, waiting to be exchanged with whatever favour you can get from her hunter buddies; as Zoro carried her onboard -not struggling a bit under her weight, you noticed with admiration- and before you muzzled with a bandanna, she asked what you’d do with her if your plan failed, and neither of you had an answer to give.

“They should be here any minute.” Zoro mentions, checking the time on his phone; he’s sitting at the bow, his hand tight against the hilt of the Wado Ichimonji betraying his anxiety as your swordsman scans the darkness all around, well aware that danger might come from any direction “(name), I’m not sure this was a good idea; what if they come with a whole fleet of boats full of hunters?”

“In that case we’ll return to the island.” you decide from your seat near the motor, before smiling at the woman lying between you; the next words to come out from your lips are pointlessly cruel, but you can’t help them “After throwing this one into the water, of course; let’s see how well she can swim bound and gagged as she is, shall we?”

Tashigi, while terrified, manages to convey all her rage and hate in a look from behind her thick glasses. You keep waiting, careful to any sound or movement breaking the quiet stillness of the night, and a moment after you and Zoro have shared a look and a smile to reassure each other you’re safe the distant roar of a boat motor reaches your ears.

“They’re here.”

You see them first, your sharp eyes easily spotting the small moonlight-bathed vessel sailing towards you; the Chaser is sitting near the motor, but he stands to observe the two of you, who stare back, tense but unmoving until the hunter has maneuvered the boat close enough to allow you to talk face to face.

“I came alone, as you asked.” he announces, clearly unhappy about the arrangement but not, you suspect, because he’s afraid; he lifts the large flashlight in his hand towards Tashigi, and his hard gaze softens for a moment. His chest, naked under the open jacket, is bandaged, and you find yourself hoping that the wound Zoro has inflicted pains him for the rest of his life “Is she alright?”

“She’s perfectly fine, don’t worry.” Zoro says; he has insisted on conducting the negotiations personally, pointing out that after all it’s him the hunters want, while behind him you keep an eye on Tashigi and are ready to intervene in case of need “We also asked you to come unharmed.”

The Chaser, his jitte slung across his shoulders and a new cigar between his lips, offers to throw it in the water if Zoro does the same with the swords hanging from his belt, with the result that both remain harmed.

“We brought your friend here to propose a trade.” Zoro goes on “We’ll free her, and you’ll leave me and (name) alone forever.”

It’s clearly an outrageous request, which you knew already the hunter would never accept but you and your swordsman decided on making all the same in the hopes that you could then meet halfway at a more acceptable solution. As you expected, Smoker’s reaction is a laugh of contempt. “Not a chance. I can admit you’re a different matter, Roronoa, but your friend there is a vampire; she will never be safe from me, as long as I breathe.”

You growl under your breath, already fed up with your second row position; lose your temper would help no one, but you’d only need a moment - a moment to move, to jump from your boat to his and knock the Chaser down with enough force to make him dizzy, and then your teeth would be at his throat. Drinking his blood, satiating yourself with the lifeforce of your most dangerous enemy, would be highly satisfying, but maybe, out of spite, you’d better slit his throat and then leave his body to the fish…

“You want to kill me, right?” Zoro asks, his arms to his chest “I know you want my blood to use it to cure vampirism; but you don’t need me alive for that, right?”

The Chaser sighs. “I am sorry.” he says, and you can see sincerity on his face as he speaks, no matter how little his regret is of help “I really wish there was another way. I’m no scientist, I really don’t know how the research and the experiments work, but I want to be honest with you: they did tell me that we needed to bring you in alive, but once they’ll have taken enough blood from you for their tests, they’ll have no reason to keep you around.”

“And in the meantime they’ll lock me in a cage, right?”

“Listen, Roronoa; this sucks, I know. We’re taught that any human who knowingly helps and allies themselves with a vampire deserves no mercy, but you seem like a good person, and I know you haven’t asked for any of this. You’re innocent, despite the company you keep, but… you’re a miracle; you’re the chance we had been waiting for centuries, and I can’t waste it, even though I know I’ll hate myself for it. Please, be reasonable; free Tashigi, come with me now, and I promise on my honour I’ll do my best to ensure you’re treated well.”

The hunter winces, perfectly aware of how pathetic that promise sounds, and how little reassurance he can objectively offer. He takes his time taking a drag from his cigar, looking vaguely pensive, and he looks at Zoro under the light of his torch; your swordsman has started unsheathing his sword, the few inches of naked blade betraying his readiness to strike. In front of you, Tashigi mumbles something unintelligible, squirming in an attempt to free herself and only succeeding in making the boat sway dangerously.

“Quiet!” you hiss at her, barely resisting the temptation to kick her in the stomach to make her behave; then you lift your gaze to the man standing in front of you “So you don’t care about your little trainee? It’s alright if we kill her?”

Smoker’s free hand balls into a fist: while he sympathises with Zoro’s situation, he’d clearly be all too happy to add you to the list of his victims. “Don’t you dare touch her, vampire.”

“So you do care. The two of you are close, right? Wouldn’t you want her back safe and sound? Or does your desire to capture Zoro take precedence on everything else, including the life of your friend here?”

The Chaser’s expression darkens. You know that every muscle of his body, every ounce of will inside him is begging him to attack, to free his trainee and punish you for her kidnapping; many of his hunter buddies would need no further encouragement, hoping to accomplish the second task if not both of them, without bothering to focus on the risks.

But the Chaser is different; the Chaser, luckily for you, is able to think for himself, and enjoys sufficient authority among the corps to make a difference. “I don’t know what you hoped to gain by bringing Tashigi here.” he points out softly “I’d be ready to fight for her, but I doubt you’d want to do it here, no matter how good a swimmer you might be, Roronoa. My comrades are waiting for me at the village, and I know well “Hawk Eye” Mihawk, one of the most powerful vampires in the world, is living on the island you have taken refuge on, and I guess he’s protecting you. We are at a stalemate, and I can’t promise to let your friend go if you give me my trainee back. If you have something else to tell me, do it now.”

This is the most important, not to mention dangerous, part of your plan, and both you and Zoro are all too aware of it; a silent glance passes between the two of you, and in response to your smile of encouragement he says: “What about a truce?”

“... what?”

“We’ll give you this one back, and you and the other hunters will leave us alone for a while. Let’s say a year.”

Once again you’re bidding too high in the hopes of reaching a satisfying middle ground. As you expected, Smoker snorts, a touch of sincere amusement in his firm voice.

“Out of the question. I can give you a headstart; leave now and I’ll wait an hour before pursuing you.”

“Then (name) will kill Tashigi before we do.”

“No, she won’t. Come on; two hours, it’s the best I can do.”

The Chaser turns out to be an excellent bargainer, but the two of you together are headstrong and desperate enough to stand your ground. He points out that while he does have the authority to order the other hunters to stop pursuing Zoro for a little while, you’re a different matter, especially when you could use the time given to escape and move to the other side of the world.

Objectively you have very little to gain from this negotiation, nothing more than a little reprieve before every hunter in the country pursues you again, or Zoro allows you to turn him into a vampire; the last visit by friends and family before a person sentenced to death is led to the gallows. But every day, every hour, every moment you can earn will be precious, for the two of you and for your sweet, brave swordsman especially. What has happened to him is not your fault, and objectively you’re not responsible for him, but you still want to protect him… to make sure he lives as good a life as he can. There’s nothing you wouldn’t do to ensure his safety, including, perhaps, even making a pact with the Devil…

“You know, there’s something your friend could do in exchange for us staying away.”

“His friend is here, Smoker, and can hear you perfectly.” you point out.

“Yeah, sorry.” the Chaser says, turning towards you; he immediately lights a new cigar as soon as he’s finished smoking the old one, and observes you pensively, as if you were a car he’s still not sure about buying “I know your kind, (name); you’re discreet, careful, and have never hurt humans to feed. You’re not bad, as far as vampires go.”

You sigh. “If only I could blush I would.”

“Believe me, I do appreciate it; otherwise you would have been dead for years.”

To prove the fact that he’s been aware of you for some time, the Chaser mentions a couple of the places where you’ve lived before moving to Loguetown, and several of the vampires you’ve interacted with since then, including Robin. Not all hunters attack indiscriminately, he insists: some, like him, prefer to focus on the vampires who actually harm innocent people, leaving those who obtain their sustenance peacefully or only feed from animals alone, as long as they don’t represent a danger.

“Yeah, sure. Because Vivi Nefertari did? She had never hurt a soul, and you killed her.” you accuse him, and the Chaser sighs, as if that death actually pained him.

“I didn't mean to; all I wanted from her was to know where I could find you, but she attacked me, and I was forced to defend myself.”

He seems sincere, and as you contemplate that truth, for a moment you don’t know what pains you the most: that Vivi would still be alive if she hadn't antagonised the hunter, or that he only searched for her because he was interested in you.

Then you know.

“So what would you want me to do?”

“Help us find the vampires who actually are a danger to humans; those who prey on the innocents. If you do, if you work with us, you will be rewarded.”

“You want her to work as a spy? To betray her own kind?” Zoro asks, indignant, and the Chaser shrugs.

“I know; I don’t like it either, but it’s an arrangement other corps like ours abroad have tried out with good results, and I’ve been asked to extend the offer to (name) - to you. There are vampires who collaborate with us, believe it or not, like the three who were sent to take Roronoa yesterday; they help us and we let them be. It often works pretty well for all parts involved.” he explains, at which you and your swordsman exchange a glance; ever since you had discovered the hunters were the ones after his blood, neither of you realised how suspicious it was, to have vampires acting apparently on their orders. You really should have, you chide yourself.

“I don’t think your partnership worked well for those three; we killed two of them, and the third probably burned under the sun five minutes after he killed Zoro.” you point out.

“Well, I did say often.” Smoker admits “What do you think? You would be paid, and kept safe from the hunters as long as you collaborate, and in time you could even give us a list of well-behaving vampires we would leave alone as long as they do as well.”

He and Zoro both turn to you, eager for your answer, and your first, instinctive reaction is to refuse. Being even more solitary than the average vampire, you feel no particular sense of fellowship or loyalty towards others of your kind you have never met before, especially if they do feed on humans out of choice rather than necessity. You wouldn’t go so far as to say they deserve to be hunted, especially since those who do behave are rarely treated more fairly, but it is true that violence calls for violence, and sooner or later each person must face the consequences of their actions.

On the other hand, like Zoro says, handing your own kin to the hunters would be a repulsive behaviour; most vampires didn’t ask to be turned, resisting the impulse to feed can be extremely hard -and no one knows it better than you!- not to mention that not everyone has a supplier available to provide the nourishment they need and the money to pay them, and who are you to judge who deserves to live and who doesn’t? How would you feel learning that another of your kin, someone who perhaps you’ve never met but who knows how hard and dangerous and terrifying your existence often is, has sold you to people sworn to your eradication?

Like shit, that’s how you would feel. You don’t care about the hunter’s offer to spare you from their anti-vampire crusade, and you know that even if you helped them capture every vampire in the world who has ever killed a human they wouldn’t let Zoro go, so you’re about to tell the Chaser you’re not interested about his offer… until you don’t.

“If I bring you to vampires who do hurt humans, could you give Zoro a little more time before hunting him again?” you ask; your swordsman, who clearly expected you to flatly refuse, is startled, but you avoid his gaze “Like, one month more for each victim?”

The Chaser looks at you, head tilted on one side; the emotion in his eyes might be surprise or disappointment, it’s hard to tell. “Are you serious?”

“Extremely serious, yes.”

Smoker can’t, unfortunately, give you a definitive answer; capturing Zoro is much more important than any single human-feeding vampire, but having you as an ally might be of help in that regard, at least a little. “I’ll have to ask.” he concludes, and you’d like to ask to whom, since this is not the first time he suggests he takes orders from someone who has authority over the secret and, as far as you knew, self-governing hunters corps, but you doubt he would tell you.

At the end of a long negotiation, Smoker accepts to leave you and Zoro alone for a full month -thirty-one days, not one less, calculated from the day that has just started since you had agreed to meet at midnight- after which he’ll contact you to discuss both his offer and your proposal.

“Now please, can I have my trainee back?”

Zoro lifts Tashigi in his arms, who is then handed to Smoker -“No funny business, alright?” “Funny, I was going to say the same to you.”- and her gag removed. Zoro observes her as your former supplier fixes her glasses and rubs her wrists.

“Can I ask you something?”

“What?” Tashigi snaps back.

“Is your real name… Kuina?”

She looks at him strangely, as if suspecting the question is hiding some trick she can’t readily identify. “What? No.” she answers in the end “I’ve never met anyone with this name. Who is Kuina?”

Zoro shakes his head; there is regret in his eyes, as if he had allowed himself to hope for something unlikely and that indeed turned out to be false. “One month.” he tells Smoker “And If something happens to (name) in the meantime I’ll kill you; I won’t even search for someone to turn me into a vampire first, I’ll just find you and make you pay. Got it?”

The hunter nods; if he’s impressed by the threat he’s good at hiding it, but at least you can see he’s taken it seriously. “Good. We’ll go now, shall we?”

Tashigi looks at you resentfully, shame and guilt filling her eyes; neither of you has forgotten your promise regarding what would have happened on your next encounter, and you hope there will be a next time, once all truces are off and she can no longer be of use for you, and you can finally, happily make good on it.

You wave your hand at her as Smoker starts the engine and deftly steers the boat in a turn to head back to the village. You and Zoro remain completely still until it has disappeared from sight, and then a little more; alone once again, you both sigh, and share a smile.

“Well, it went almost as well as we could hope for.” you comment, and your swordsman grunts in response.

“You can’t do it, (name); that thing about hunting other vampires… it’s wrong, and you can’t trust these guys, not even if it means buying us some time. No good can come from it.” he says; he’s right, and you dread the moment you’ll find out you’ll have to do it all the same - when the only choice left will be the wrong one.

Maybe I could ask father what it felt like.

“Who’s Kuina?” you ask, curious despite yourself as you approach to take his hand. Zoro looks at you; you had no idea what wistfulness looked on his face before today.

“You would have liked her, I’m sure. And I’ll tell you one day, I promise.” he says, and grins “After all, we have all the time in the world.”

A kiss later, your little boat is moving in the direction of the island, the movement barely stirring the water underneath.

The arena is filled to capacity, the air heavy with anticipation, tension and excitement on both the athletes and the audience’s part. The locker rooms are connected to the large hall where the duels take place by a short corridor; the room is large enough to accommodate all the numerous participants, but Zoro is set to fight in the last bout of the night and his opponent -a man named Daz- has left a few minutes ago, which means no one has seen you slip inside through a secondary entrance that opens on the parking lot behind the building, to give your swordsman a few kisses for luck.

“My father says to keep your guard high, and to mind your footwork.” you say as you fix his black uwagi; he looks very handsome in his fighting kit, even though you doubt he’d care to hear that “And remember that a side parry followed by an uppercut only works if your opponent is keeping his sword in a chudan position…”

“Yeah, yeah, I know; this is not my first competition.” Zoro mumbles; he’s nervous, and not particularly good at hiding it, but the feeling of his sword -singular, of course, as it’s specified by the rules of the tournament, but he’s been allowed to use the Wado Ichimonji rather than the standard weapons provided by the organizers, which pleased him greatly- in his hand seems to calm him “You got your seat?”

“Luffy and the others are saving me one near theirs; I’ll be there, darling, I promise.”

It’s the first day of the tournament, and the eight of the month-long truce you have forged with the hunters; the competition is set to last a week, which means that, assuming that Zoro will reach the final -and of course he will; you haven’t even considered options different from the one that sees him triumph, bring the trophy home, and have sex with you all night long in celebration- after that you’ll have less than two weeks to decide what to do.

Should you run, even though no safe place exists in the world?

Should you accept your father’s invitation to move to the island, even though the haven would be temporary at best and moreover, it would put him in danger as well?

Should Zoro let you turn him into a vampire, which would make his blood useless for the hunters but would nevertheless put him at risk as much as any other of your kin?

Should you accept the Chaser’s offer to betray your kin, hoping that helps in keeping your swordsman safe, at least a little?

You don’t know, you don’t have the faintest clue, in truth the future has never felt so uncertain, both for you and for the man you still feel responsible for, even though he would no doubt disagree. Smoker seems to have kept his word and until now he and his buddies have kept their distance, even though at times you do get the feeling you’re being watched as you visit Zoro at work or take a walk with him around town, a quick movement just out of your field of vision, keen eyes following your every move from a darkness so deep not even your vampire gaze can pierce it, counting the days, and then the hours, and then the minutes, until it’s hunting season once again.

As soon as that brief period of respite ends, a single minute after midnight, Smoker will call you to discuss his offer to cooperate, and should your answer not please him you know you’ll have every hunter in the country sicced on you, and then it will be too late to change your mind. You and Zoro should spend every minute of that month discussing your options, but until now, and while you’re both all too aware of the danger you’re still in, you have never touched the topic, since the tournament had to come first and Zoro has focused on nothing but his training ever since you came back from Kuraigana.

Many would say you’re being reckless, that no sport trophy is worth your lives, and then Zoro will no doubt wish he’d acted differently once he’s captured and you killed, and maybe you are wasting your time; but in your heart you know you will not regret your choice, because what is more precious than the present, when all the future promises are danger and fear?

In less than five minutes a steward will come to call him for the match. He has trained hard, he’s well rested and spent a couple of hours meditating in order to focus and calm his mind; he’s more ready than he’s ever been, and while a little nervous, your swordsman knows how strong he is and has never let an opponent or the importance of the duel intimidate him. He waits patiently for you to finish fussing over his clothes and even his hair, then he places a hand on the back of your neck and kisses you hard, hard enough to make you moan, hard enough for you to feel his human, blunt teeth bite your lip. “I’ll see you once I’ve won.” he promises, his tone devoid of any presumptuousness, and you smile.

“Good luck.”

One last kiss and you’ve left him alone, exiting the softly lit locker room to plunge into the cool darkness of the night outside.

#One Piece #Roronoa Zoro #Roronoa Zoro x reader #Roronoa Zoro x vampire!reader #Bellona's stuff

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the-whispers-of-death · 1 year ago

Note

Can you do an imagine where Stone and Reader (as well as the other 141) are on a mission and Reader gets shot? He doesn't die, but how would Stone react? How would he heal Reader? Would he take him in his arms and run away to help him outside the whole chaos or?

Would he be gentle while taking care of the wounds? Would he be extremely pissed of at the way Reader was 'careless'?

Especially if Reader got shot to not let a bullet hit Stone.

Oh, so you want the angst, huh? But I shall abide, let's get angsty.

TW: Blood, slightly gory when Stone patches Reader up

Stone saw the enemy soldier lift their gun and point it at him, it all seemed like it was happening in slow-motion. Before he could think about diving out of the way before the bullet hit him, you dove in front of him and took the bullet for him.

You two collided, sending you both flying onto the floor. He grabbed you in his arms, making sure that you fell on top of him and not onto the cold floor. He could hear Ghost curse and take out the enemy soldier that had shot you.

"Stone, take him to the extraction vehicle to patch him up!" Price yelled at Stone. He then turned to Gaz. "Go with them to provide cover!"

Stone didn't need to be told twice, nor did Gaz. With Gaz watching his back, he picked you up like you were weightless. He ensured his medical bag was still on his shoulders before making his way to the exit of the warehouse. He didn't say anything, not yet. He first had to get you to safety so he could take care of your wounds.

A quick glance down at you told him that thankfully you had been hit in the shoulder and not in any major organs. You'd survive and that was a comforting fact to him.

He made it to the extraction vehicle where the soldier who would be driving cursed at the sight of you bleeding. Stone ignored the soldier and set you down in the back while Gaz stayed outside, scanning for any enemies.

"That was stupid of you," Stone said, his voice cold as always whenever he was in the field. He got in the back with you, cutting your uniform open to see the wound. "I could've handled getting shot."

You winced as he felt around to see if the bullet had been a through-and-through, and thankfully it had. "I acted on instinct, Stone. I saw the gun trained on you and I dove without thinking," you replied.

He frowned at that, sighing. "Don't you ever do that again."

It was hypocritical of him to scold you, especially when he knew he had a history of diving in front of others to take what would be their injuries, but you made him act hypocritical. He didn't like the thought of you taking a bullet for him, so he wasn't very happy about this situation. And it was clear by the way he wasn't trying to be gentle with cleaning the wound to stitch it up, not that he was usually gentle.

"Hold still," Stone murmured once your wound was cleaned. He threaded the needle after opening his suture kit and he carefully started stitching your wound close.

"You work so efficiently," You said, unable to help yourself.

Stone's movements were methodical, graceful even. His large hands didn't shake once as he pulled the needle through your skin, so efficient. He was patching you up like he had been doing it for years, and well he had been doing it for years. He was a Corpsman for fifteen years and counting, after all.

Stone didn't comment on how most of his patching up of soldiers in his earlier years had been mostly him patching himself up. He didn't seem the need to bring up such unpleasant memories.

Stone simply answered, "There is a reason why I was the medic sent to a highly elite squad."

As he finished stitching you up and wrapping your wound in gauze and bandages, the rest of the 141 ran out of the warehouse, having completed their mission. He closed up his medical bag and shifted you gently to make place for the others, everyone else piling into the extraction vehicle.

When everyone was back on base, Stone wouldn't budge on taking you to the hospital building on base. He gave you bed-rest, eyeing your injured shoulder every time he saw you. And he resumed his scolding of your carelessness each time he checked up on you.

He was flattered that you took a bullet for him, but he thought you were a stupid man for doing so.

At least you were going to survive.

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and talk or request something! (SFW requests only, please and thank you)

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petalouda85 · 1 year ago

Text

Birth

Fandom: Blades of Light and Shadow 2

Pairings: Tyril x f!human!MC (Kassandra)

Word count: 1.4k

Concept: Kade, Imtura, and Mal wait for news of the newest member of their family

Tags: @liviusofpella, @megas-choices, @starlight-starfury, @dutifullynuttywitch, @thosehallowedhalls @choicesficwriterscreations

AO3 link: x

A/N: Finally. The fic I’ve wanted to post for a very long time. I can finally reveal the name for Baby Starfury 🥰 after the emotional rollercoaster of Forever (in my Mind), you guys deserve a fluffy treat. Enjoy.

Reading had always been easy for Kade. Almost as easy as breathing. He could grab any tome and easily be lost in the words, his mind taken to places far away and times long gone, it all brought to life with his imagination. Tonight, however, it was hard to concentrate as his mind constantly drifted towards the cabin near to where he sat, his stomach twisting with the knowledge of what was happening inside. He tried to listen for any noise coming from the home, despite knowing it was pointless; Nia and Tyril had made sure of that.

Unable to focus on his book, Kade looked towards the other two that kept him quiet company in the homestead. Mal practiced a few quick movements with his dagger, stabbing into an imaginary foe, while Imtura stood off to the side, aiming and hurling her axes into a nearby tree, the bark splitting more each time. Boredom could rationalize their weapon practice, but Kade knew better.

A few weeks prior, when everyone had finally arrived in Riverbend, the villagers warned them of a group of elves that had recently traveled through. While no direct questions were asked, their apparent interest in the “Hero of Morella” had set off alarm bells in everyone and precautions were taken.

When Kassandra went into labor, Nia and Tyril had cast a spell over the clearing, masking the homestead, and then a silencing spell over the cabin. Once the door shut behind them, Mal and Imtura had pulled their weapons closer, ready to be grabbed at the first sign of trouble. Several hours had passed since then, the high afternoon sun now replaced by a bright moon; Kade reckoned it was past midnight already.

He snapped his book shut and leaned forward with a great sigh, rubbing his eyes and face trying to relieve the tension and growing exhaustion.

“I can’t believe I’m going to be an uncle.” He said softly. He must’ve been louder than he thought because in a split second, Mal stood before him.

“You and me both, buddy.” The rogue said, sitting down next to him. “It’s happening and I still have trouble wrapping my head around it. Elf boy and kit are going to be parents. Who would’ve thought the wet blanket and the life of the party would ever reach this point.”

“It is hard to wrap your head around it all.” Kade said. “For so long, it was just me and my sister. Now she’s having a baby.” He let out a weak chuckle. “It’s stupid to think so but, part of me is scared that she’ll forget me; a child takes priority after all.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that.” Imtura said, pulling her axe from the tree before joining the two men. “I’ve travelled with Kassandra long enough to know that she’d never forget you or any of us. We’re all her family and nothing’s gonna change that, not even a new tiny landrat.”

“Would be nice if the little tyke made headway.” Mal said, letting out a loud yawn. “All this doing nothing is making me tired.” His yawn was replaced with a yelp when Imtura slapped him across his head. “Hey!”

“You can’t rush these things.” She scolded. “The tyke gets here when they get here. And that could be in the next 5 minutes or in the next few hours. Hells, little guy could already be here and Kassandra’s just not up for visitors right now. We just got to wait.”

“I know, I know! Doesn’t mean I can’t complain about the waiting. It’s not like we got a lot to do besides that and there’s only so many fake guys I can stab.”

“I’d offer a book, but I get the sense neither of you are readers, even when faced with endless boredom.” All three laughed.

“We’ll leave the reading to you, kid.” Mal stood up from the bench and pulled forth a deck of cards from his pocket. “Up for a game?” He asked the orc, who smiled.

“Always. Be ready to lose.” The two found a patch of grass to sit on and began their game. Kade watched them half-heartedly for a moment before opening his book once more, trying his best not to nod off.

He shut his eyes briefly and when he opened them next, his face was glued against the cover of the book and his back was stiff from the hard bench. With a groan, he sat up, a thin blanket falling off him. Looking around him, he found Imtura and Mal also asleep in the grass, their card game replaced by a now extinguished fire, and the birds singing their morning song as the sun’s beams began to peak through the trees. He stretched his back and checked the state of the cabin, finding the spell still on it, before moving towards his slumbering companions.

“Rise and shine.” Kade said as Mal woke up.

“Morning already? Nothing yet?”

“Nothing yet.” Kade moved to wake Imtura next. Soon, the three sat down for a silent breakfast, ready for the prospect of another day of waiting. After their quick meal, Kade returned to the bench and grabbed his book, ready to try reading it yet again, when a magical hum came from the cabin. He immediately abandoned the tome, jumping to his feet when some low noises could be heard from inside. The door clicked open, and everyone ran to it as Nia appeared in the frame, looking frazzled and tired. Despite her weary state, the priestess was smiling.

“Everything’s fine.” She quickly said, seeing the worry on their faces. “Mom and baby are doing fine. They were born just after midnight. They’re all cleaned up and have already been resting for some time.”

“Midnight? But-“ Mal began to protest but Imtura gave him another slap. The priestess fought down a snicker at his incredulous look before she opened the door a bit wider.

“You can come in but only for a little while; Kassandra’s still very tired.”

Kade ran in first, finding Aderyn preparing some food in the kitchen. He quickly sent her a grateful smile before dashing towards the bedroom, the others on his heels. The moment he stepped into the entrance way, he froze.

Mal unceremoniously bumped into him, but any complaint was quickly gone when the three heard the soft gurgling noises coming from the little bundle resting in Kassandra’s arms.

She was lying in bed, looking exhausted and worn out. Tyril, seated in a chair next to the bed, appeared exhausted as well but both were staring down at the bundle with immeasurable love and affection in their eyes. The two looked up as the visitors slowly entered the room.

“Hi.” Kassandra said, her eyes brimming with tears, before looking down at her child. “Look who’s here.”

Kade stood frozen in place for a moment, alternating his gaze between his sister and the child in her arms, before rushing to the bed and embracing her tightly, tears forming in his eyes.

“I’m so proud of you.” He whispered to her. He continued holding her, hearing her sniffle before she returned the embrace

“Thank you.” He gave her a kiss on her cheek before pulling away. He then quickly turned towards Tyril and embraced him too; it took the elf a moment to return the gesture.

“Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

Kade pulled away and sat down on the bed, watching the child with pride swelling in his chest.

“Do you want to hold them?” Kassandra asked after a while.

“Yes.”

Gently, she passed the bundle to him, the man gawking down at the baby nestled in the blanket their mother had made for them. They were beautiful, dark-skinned and a barely visible black fuzz on their head. They looked almost entirely human, if not for their ears. Granted, they were shorter than the standard elven ears but there was no denying the point at the end of them.

“Hi.” Kade said softly and in disbelief. He took their little hand, the tiny digits not even wrapping entirely around his thumb. “I’m your uncle.” He turned to look at Mal, Imtura and Nia; none had a dry eye. “And your other uncle and aunts are here too.” He looked back to the new parents, who beamed with pride as they held each other’s hand. “What’s their name?”

Tyril looked to Kassandra, who nodded.

“Everyone,” Tyril began with a proud smile, “meet our daughter, Kaya.”

#tyril starfury #tyril x mc #tyril x kassandra #baby starfury #kade of riverbend #mal volari #imtura tal kaelen #nia ellarious #my writing #blades of light and shadow #bolas 2 #playchoices

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 6 months ago

Text

@zepskies

Jumping right back in to part 3!

Accurate depiction of me knowing what's about to happen to the readers dad. 👆🏻👆🏻👆🏻👆🏻👆🏻👆🏻

And:

“Go, get out of here!” he shouts and waves you off. “What? What is it?!” you yell. He shakes his head, like he’s unable to answer your question. “Run! Run and don’t stop!”

“So there’s a chance he could still be alive,” you say, in a brighter voice. Dean gives you a measured look, dragging a hand over his mouth. “Look, I’m gonna be straight with you,” he says. “It’s been months, right?” You nod, though you realize what he’s saying. Don’t get your hopes up.

I won't get my hopes up. I will be just as devastated now as when I find out that he is gone for good. 😭

Also I love that you said her mother refused to "entertain anything else" because Dean's job description is literally "anything else" lol. And it really is a wonderful thing (not wonderful like good but you know what I mean) that Dean and the reader can further connect on. Her knowing what Dean really did for a living and him being brave enough to risk his life on the possibility of "a chance."

“I appreciate the thought, but trust me. I’d rather you look out for you,” he says.

It's too late for that kind of talk sexy mountain man. You're stuck with her and she is not going to let you go that easy.

Am I trying to hide my emotions over Dean going into the wilderness alone to face a wendigo with humor? Yes, yes I am.

You try to fill up your time in other ways, like attempting, and failing, and trying again more successfully to make bread from scratch. You haven’t binge-watched every season of The Great British Bake-Off for nothing.

It's a whole vibe 🍞

Side note: I did have to look up what nesting was in the A/B/O universe, but that is so cute. 😭

After you manage to clamber back onto your feet using the crutches, you put together some supplies, including the extra med kit in case he’s hurt. (Or in case something happens to you while you’re out there.) This is a bad idea, you think, even as you heave on your jacket. Then, you hear the sound of a lock turning, before the front door shoves open.

Oh goodness, yes it was a bad idea and I am so happy that Dean showed up when he did, because my anxiety for this reader was THROUGH THE ROOF. I mean yes, go get your man, but gurl please it's snowing and you've got a broken ankle. At least catch a bear or something to pull you on a sleigh lol. 🤣

Your lips tremble. As that horrible realization dawns, you break down into tears. You already know from his tone that your father was dead when he found him. Dean guides you down to him by your shoulder and wraps his arms around you. You bury your face into his neck, and your body shakes with quiet sobs.

See this is why I don't get my hopes up because OH MY SWEET GOODNESS I'M CRYING 😭 But at least Dean is there now to wipe away her tears. AND my tears will soon be dried with the fires of their passion so... LOL 😂

He finally drags you to him in a kiss. It’s heady and passionate, and also comforting. Your fingers wind into his hair, your nails scraping along his scalp. He growls as his arm tightens around your waist. You shiver in delight.

See I feel better already 🥰

“Do you know what your scent is to me?” you ask, in a voice slightly trembling. You glance at the fireplace that has dimmed to embers. “It’s better than that fire at full blaze. Every time I went camping with my dad, that’s what I loved the most. Sitting by that fire, talking, laughing, and for the millionth time, telling the story of when I gave my sister micro bangs in her sleep when I was ten.”

This is such a wonderful comparison to what it's like being around him for the reader. It holds the warmth and the feeling of home whenever you read it. I love it.

And also you know how much I love the continuing idea of Dean thinking that he's not enough and that the reader would never like him. I know that I always point it out when I read something of yours, but it really always fits him and you write it so well my friend 💚

“Look…even if that’s true, you don’t want this with me,” he says. His handsome face becomes marred by a frown, his brows knitting together. “I don’t even own this place. Besides my car, I ain’t got much of anything to give.”

I also love this bit, because Dean reduces himself to physical wealth here rather than seeing all the wonderful qualities of himself that we all love being something that he can give the reader. It really makes their connection all the more loving and real, because the reader isn't asking for Dean to give her things or to be rich, she's just asking FOR Dean. And I think it will be a beautiful and wonderful thing when he realizes that.

This chapter was so wonderful Alex! I loved every heart wrenching bit and I can't wait to read the next one my wonderful friend! ❤️

Against the Wind - Part 3

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x F. Omega!Reader

Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.

AN: Merry Christmas! I'm dropping this chapter a day early for you guys. Now, here's the full story, and what Dean is going to do about it…

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: True Mates @jacklesversebingo

Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger

Word Count: 3.8K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Angst, mentions of blood, hint of spice.~

Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 3: Nothing Left to Burn

“We should start heading back,” you say, looking up at the mid-afternoon sky. It was starting to dip toward the top of the trees in the distance. “It’s going to take a couple of hours to get back before nightfall.”

“Yep, it’s about that time.” Your dad groans as he starts to haul himself back to his feet, where you two had been taking a rest against a tree. “Jesus, I need a new pair of knees. Help your old man, would ya?”

You smirk as you help the middle-aged alpha to his feet. His joints pop and his back cracks as he stretches his arms high.

“Damn, Dad. You’re creakier than the trees,” you quip.

He tosses you a wry look. “Just you wait. In a few years, after wrangling a couple of pups, you’re gonna feel my pain.”

“A few years?” you laugh. “Did I miss the part where I actually met a decent guy, let alone one worth mating?”

“Oh, you’ll find him,” your dad nods, slinging his rifle back over his shoulder. “Or he’ll find you, like your mother did with me.”

You follow his lead with your own rifle, falling into step with him through the forest clearing. It’s a beautiful day in late November. Already you can see the edge of frost on the shrubs and half-barren trees. The ground is littered with dead leaves painted in browns, oranges, and dappled with reds.

“You met her in college. It’s not like you guys defied fate,” you say.

“Yeah, but if she hadn’t walked into my psychology class by mistake, and stolen my latte at the campus café, maybe you wouldn’t be here,” he teases.

You huff and roll your eyes. Yes, your parents are a walking cliché. And by far, your dad’s the bigger sap.

“I’m telling you. Sometimes, the universe does us a solid,” he says, reinforcing his point with a literal pointed finger your way. You push it away from your face in exasperation.

“You might wanna watch where you’re going,” you say, “before you roll your ankle on another pebble.”

“You kidding me?” he exclaims. “That thing was the size of my fist! You’re lucky I didn’t break an ankle. Make you carry me all the way back to the car.”

You snort. “Right. Think I’ll just leave you for the bears…”

You trail off when a sound reaches you and your father. The sound of leaves crunching in the underbrush, quick and light. Your father’s shoulders straighten with alertness, the alpha’s head cocking toward the sound.

“Maybe I spoke too soon about the bears,” you whisper. He shakes his head.

“Nah, too light. It’s probably an elk.” He tosses you a smile. “We’ll have one hell of a haul to bring home, plus a good story to tell your mom.”

Your mother, the vegan veterinarian?

“Yeah, because she loves elk meat.”

“Would you quit being a smartass for two minutes? You go a little west. I’ll see where it’s at,” he says.

He quietly wracks his rifle and steps away from the clearing, farther into the woods. You do what he says, veering west. You don’t see the elk, and soon enough, you don’t see your dad either. You do hear a whistling on the wind, and the cold of it cuts right through your coat.

Unease prickles down your spine, though you don’t know why.

“Dad?” you whisper-yell, trying not to spook whatever animal might be out there.

A gunshot rings out, along with your dad’s voice in a shout. Your eyes widen in alarm, and you call his name, taking off in a run to find him.

You end up rising over a hill you hadn’t crossed before, but you see your dad below; you recognize his bright blue puffer jacket that Mom got him for his birthday. You call his name, and he looks up at you with fear in his eyes.

Not for himself, but for you.

“Go, get out of here!” he shouts and waves you off.

“What? What is it?!” you yell.

He shakes his head, like he’s unable to answer your question. “Run! Run and don’t stop!”

He moves further into the denser trees until you can no longer make him out. With a frustrated huff, you sprint down the hill and try to follow his tracks with your gun at the ready. On the wind, in the distance, you still hear his voice.

Until it cuts off abruptly, along with the terrible cracking of bone.

You gasp and halt in your steps. What the fuck was that?

Tears fill your eyes and blur your vision. Despite what you heard, you realize just how very alone you are in the clearing. Fear and adrenaline make your breath tremulous and shallow, but you can’t just give up. You search for a while longer, making yourself hoarse calling out to your father.

No matter what direction you take, you never find him.

“I ran back to town to get the rangers,” you say, brushing a couple of stray tears from your cheeks. You sniff, licking your lips and swallowing a hard lump of emotion in your throat.

Dean continues to listen intently with his brows furrowed.

“It was too late,” you sigh. “He disappeared. They explained it away, thought a grizzly bear got him, but I know it wasn’t a damn bear.”

You shake your head as the tears come harder and faster, all over again. Dean’s jaw clenches in sympathy.

“No one believed me about what I heard, not even my mom,” you confess. Your mother had been too distraught to entertain “anything else.” No matter how strongly you’d felt about your suspicions, you understood that she just wanted to put your father’s death behind her after his funeral. Part of you had stopped believing yourself.

A stronger part of you hadn’t been able to let it go, however. So you had to come back here and try to find any trace of your father.

When you finally run out of words, you see the proverbial gears turning in Dean’s eyes.

“What’re you thinking?” you hazard to ask. You can’t help but reach out and grab at his wrist. “Do you…do you believe me?”

Dean’s gaze softens a fraction. He lays his larger hand over yours.

“Yeah, I do,” he says. “I’m willing to bet on what took him too.”

He squeezes your hand before he lets you go and gets up from his seat. He soon returns with his father’s journal in hand. He reclaims his spot across from you, sitting close to your thigh on the end of the chaise. His gaze falls away from your face to the journal in hand, and he flips it open to a page he knows from memory. You suck in a subtle breath to steel yourself when he turns it toward you—to the very page that had given you nightmares the first night you read it.

Wendigo.

“Nasty son of a bitch,” he says. “It hibernates for decades at a time, but when it surfaces, it knows how to get through long winters like this. It takes a handful of people at a time, feeding on its victims slow.”

You feel sick at that, but still, his words elicit a sliver of hope.

“So there’s a chance he could still be alive,” you say, in a brighter voice. Dean gives you a measured look, dragging a hand over his mouth.

“Look, I’m gonna be straight with you,” he says. “It’s been months, right?”

You nod, though you realize what he’s saying. Don’t get your hopes up.

“But there’s a chance,” you insist, with tears in your eyes. Dean holds your gaze for a moment, and he nods. He squeezes your knee this time, then shuts the journal with one hand as he moves to stand.

You follow him on your crutches over to the kitchen. He pulls out a drawer and retrieves a folded-up map. Tossing the journal on the kitchen counter, he opens up the map and lays it out flat next to the sink. It’s a map of the mountain, and the entire forest surrounding the mountain of Big Sky. Dean’s eyes flick up to yours.

“Where did it happen?”

Dean has packed up his supplies and put on his winter gear. You watch him from the living room sofa, trying to hide your unease. You know he’s doing this for you, but there’s part of you that doesn’t want to see him leave, for his own sake, and selfishly for yours.

“Try not to go outside again unless you absolutely friggin’ have to,” he warns. “And if you do, don’t go too far. Make sure you take a weapon, preferably a gun and a knife.”

“Dean, I know,” you reply. You get up and hover by the couch while he finishes lacing his snowshoes and hooks his backpack on. You’re unable to hide your concern.

“You shouldn’t be going out there alone,” you say.

Dean tosses you a grin. It has the shade of how he was with you before the “journal” incident—self-assured, a hint teasing.

“Don’t worry. This isn’t exactly my first solo mission,” he says, though his devil-may-care attitude soon subsides into something more serious. “If I’m not back inside a week, you need to ration out the supplies here as best you can. That new meat in the fridge should last you a while.”

By new meat, you have to assume he means the bear.

“When you’re healed up, you can make your way down the mountain and back to town with that map I left for you. Kitchen counter,” he says.

Your frown worsens. You step closer to him with the pretense of closing and locking the front door for him after he leaves.

“Dean,” you say, stopping him at the door. He turns to look at you over his shoulder. You hesitate, fidgeting slightly, but you gain your courage.

“If you don’t come back, I’m going to find you,” you warn him.

Dean frowns. He turns to you fully and tilts his head as if to say, come again?

“No, you’re not, Omega. You understand me?”

His terseness doesn’t scare you anymore. You glare up at him, quite literally standing your ground.

“You didn’t leave me out there when you didn’t even know me. You think I’d do that to you?” you counter.

At that, Dean has to pause, tilting his head slightly. He almost smiles at your stubbornness, and just like that, his annoyance dissipates. It softens him, making him reach for your arm in an assuring squeeze.

“I appreciate the thought, but trust me. I’d rather you look out for you,” he says.

Right now, you don’t really give a shit about what he’d rather, but you don’t say so. It’s written across your face anyway. Dean’s mouth tugs at a smile.

“All right, I’m out,” he says. “Save me some of Yogi in there.”

You huff, but you shut the door behind him after he steps out onto the porch, down the steps, and beyond. You move to the living room window and watch him get farther and farther away from the cabin.

Despite the crackling fireplace, you begin to feel cold inside.

After the first three days, you’ve managed to clean the entire cabin, top to bottom. With the “new meat,” you make a large batch of soup to last you throughout the week. You freeze a couple of servings for Dean.

For when he gets back.

Then you organize all of the alpha’s books by author. You wash all the laundry you can find and fold everything neatly on his bed, and you put away the couple of sweaters you’ve borrowed from him into your own dresser.

On Day Four, you create a nest of pillows and blankets in the middle of the living room floor. In your anxiety, it’s a reflex you can’t help. Your initial instinct was to nest in his room, but you thought that was too invasive of his privacy, so the living room was your next best option. At least his scent is still somewhat imbued into his favorite chair, and around his records. (You do steal another shirt of his to sleep with though.)

On Day 8, your worry becomes a living thing. You pace the living room and the kitchen on your crutches, probably wearing down the wooden ends of them while you debate what to do. Despite what Dean told you to do if he didn’t get back, you know you’re not just going to leave him out there. But the reality is, you have a problem of mobility.

With a frustrated huff, you decide to try setting your problem foot down normally. Your ankle hurts, a sharp pain shooting up your calf and nearly sending you to the floor.

“Fuck!” you gasp, both in shock and aggravation.

You know this isn’t just a sprain. At best it could be a fracture, since no bone is protruding under the skin. It still means you shouldn’t go after him either.

But you’ll have to try.

Then, you hear the sound of a lock turning, before the front door shoves open.

A yelp of surprise escapes you, though you soon realize that it’s Dean, looking worn down and ragged, but alive.

“Home, sweet home,” he says wryly, but he looks relieved to see you too.

You help him sink down onto the chaise, where he stretches out with a groan. He tips his head back on the cushion. His jacket is torn in a few places. Blood has dried on his cheek, his neck, and near his hairline, and you worry about where else he might be hurt.

You quickly go to the kitchen and pour a bowl of warm water and grab a hand towel. You bring it all back to Dean, where you set your supplies on the floor and sit down beside him on the cushion.

“Are you okay?” You try to calm down your racing heart (and the nauseous feeling in your stomach) as you help him work open his jacket, followed by his shirt. Discreetly, your eyes take in the expanse of his tanned skin and pebbling nipples exposed to the cool air, even with the fire roaring nearby.

“Yeah, just peachy,” he says.

You smile a little. You take the towel, dampen it, and begin to clear the blood from his cheek, his neck, and the upper part of his torso—even his scuffed hands. Then you squeegee out the blood in the bowl and continue your task. Dean subtly watches you, his gaze a bit softer than usual.

He eventually looks you over with a frown as he takes in the way you’re dressed, and then the backpack by the door.

“What, about to go for a little afternoon stroll?” His sarcasm turns to annoyance. “Didn’t I tell you to stay put until you can actually walk?”

Your mouth flattens into a line, but any anger you might’ve felt is waylaid by your relief. It brings tears to your eyes.

“I thought something happened to you,” you say.

Dean hesitates. Your hand has stilled on his chest. He softens a little more, grasping your hand in his larger one.

“I’m fine,” he says. “The job’s done.”

Your eyes widen. “You found the…thing? The wendigo?”

His mouth pulls at a cocky grin, tempered only by his tiredness, and the way he’s looking at you. “Sure did. Tried to take a chunk outta my ass, but a little aerosol deodorant and a lighter’s all you need to barbecue that ugly son of a bitch.”

You smile in amusement, but all too soon, it fades.

“Did you find my dad?” you ask.

Dean’s expression sobers as well.

“Yeah, I think so.” His face gentles. “Was he wearing a blue puffer jacket?”

Your lips tremble. As that horrible realization dawns, you break down into tears. You already know from his tone that your father was dead when he found him.

Dean guides you down to him by your shoulder and wraps his arms around you. You bury your face into his neck, and your body shakes with quiet sobs.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs into your hair. “Believe me, I am.”

He holds you close, warm and secure. He allows you to stay there as long as you need, where you feel safe, even if this world has become a colder, darker place.

After a few minutes longer, your intense sobs begin to subside. You don’t mean to, but you turn your nose into Dean’s neck, scenting him on reflex. It calms you down, but it has the unintended effect of arousing him. The alpha rumbles in pleasure.

You blink in surprise and lean back enough to see his face. Dean’s lips press together as he looks down on you; he seems embarrassed, but you also see the heat reflected in his gaze, so intense in those forest greens. Your face begins to warm in a blush.

He brushes your cheek with his thumb, collecting your tears there. You glance down at his plush lips again, your own parting with a breath. His hand moves to cup your cheek, framing the side of your face. Please…

He finally drags you to him in a kiss.

It’s heady and passionate, and also comforting. Your fingers wind into his hair, your nails scraping along his scalp. He growls as his arm tightens around your waist. You shiver in delight.

You press a hand to the center of his chest, giving you leverage to rise up and slide your thigh over his legs. There you sink into his lap. Your breasts pillow against his chest when you lay on top of him, your elbows digging into the cushion on either side of his head. His hands move down your body, feeling down your sides, squeezing your hips, and then your ass. You hum into his mouth and roll your hips into his. Already you feel him hardening through his jeans.

But somehow he breaks away from your kiss, even though your hands are still in his hair.

“Sorry…we can’t do this,” he says, with difficulty.

He sits upright and nearly makes you fall over in the process. He grabs your arm before you tip over, but he keeps himself at arm’s length from you after you’re forced to slide off his lap, sitting on the end of the chaise instead. Your eyes glisten with hurt and confusion.

“Why?” is all you can ask.

He doesn’t want to answer.

“Dean?” you ask, inching towards him. He raises a hand to keep you at bay.

“Just…it’s not a good idea, okay?” he says, with the clenching of his jaw.

That cuts into you even more. Your heart pulses with pain.

You wipe a stray tear from your eye, but you respect the distance he’s put between you two.

“The second I met you, I knew what this was,” you say. “I think you know it too.”

Dean shakes his head. His face betrays his wariness, his desire, and his obstinance.

You shake your head in dismay. “I know that’s not true.”

“I’m not bullshitting,” he says. “Listen…I’ve never had much. And what I did have, I found a way to lose. I’ve let my people down. Just about everyone I’ve ever…”

You can’t help but reach out a hand for him, your heart hurting, but he leans away, pressing himself back against the seat. It cuts even deeper into you; now though, you wonder if it’s because he feels the same gut feeling you do when he’s this close—close enough to touch, but almost afraid of the burn.

“They’ve been hurt, almost always because of me.” His voice shakes imperceptibly, with a wry, humorless turn of his lips. “So take it from me, sweetheart. You’ll wanna steer clear.”

“Dean,” you say. You expel a breath, digesting his words, while thinking of what you want to say.

“I’ve never not felt safe with you,” you confess. “Even when I screwed up and drove you crazy, I’m sure, I knew you’d never hurt me. The same way I know…”

You reach out a tentative hand to lay in the center of his chest, over his heart. Your thumb brushes the edge of his strange tattoo, over the dark ink in his skin.

“You’re my mate. My one, true mate in this world,” you say, meeting his eyes. “And I want to know you.”

You see inner conflict in the depths of Dean’s eyes, dark green and troubled. You take a chance and lean in, brushing your cheek against his, nuzzling, laying a soft kiss to his cheek.

“Omega,” he warns, but the grit in his voice has little heat.

Or at least, it’s heat of a different kind, as his strong hands once again find your waist. They hold you still, but also hold you to him. Your gentle affection is making him ache, deep in the shadowy cavern of his chest. He’d never admit it, but loneliness had set in there, burrowed deep with a stronghold on his heart. Without knowing, you’ve been carving it out with those gentle hands.

You now slide your hands up his chest and over his shoulders, warm palms on his skin.

“Alpha, I want to know you,” you insist. Quiet, but steady, your voice is a mere brush of words near his ear, against his cheek. “Please.”

Dean’s brows furrow as he briefly shuts his eyes tight. With your whispered plea, the brittle chain of his restraint finally snaps free.

He cradles the back of your head and guides you back into a feverish kiss.

AN: Sorry to cut it off there lol, but the big (steamy) finale is coming up next week! Perhaps a little earlier than Friday. 😘

Next Time:

“Were you nesting, Omega?” he teases, between the sinful meetings of his lips with yours. You hum your affirmation before his tongue swipes across your lower lip, seeking entrance.

You open yourself to him in more ways than one; you slip your hands across his naked shoulders and explore the smooth planes of muscle, the dips and softness in between. You encourage him to lower down, to cover you with the length and broadness of his frame. His weight is a welcome one between your thighs and against the softness of your body.

“Was worried about you,” you whisper a confession against his lips. Dean briefly pauses, meeting your eyes.

“Thanks for waiting up,” he says, with a hint of a smile.

Your lips curve upwards in return.

▶️ Keep reading: Part 4 (Finale!)

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sodosshame · 2 years ago

Text

Please Kiss Me

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, SA/Beating implied (no graphic detail), feelings of not being good enough

A/N: Thank you for the recent love on my other stories! Pls feel free to request any short stories and I’ll do my best!

Description: Daryl finds you after an incident, and he does his best to patch you up and help you feel better, offering reassurance the whole time.

I can’t believe that for a second I thought that I would fit in around here. I can’t believe I thought someone actually liked me. Fucking of course he didn’t. It was all just some stupid joke with his asshole friends. He was using me. You’d think the end of the world would change things like this, huh?

Stupid. Fucking. Piece of shit.

Wiping the blood from my cheek, I slowly stand up; trying to avoid any possibility of fainting again. I must have looked a right mess at that moment; my face stained with dried blood and tears.

The most stupid thing was that he wasn’t even someone i liked, felt attracted to or anything.

I just wanted to feel wanted. But he humiliated me.

Looking around, I begin making my way back to my ‘home’ in Alexandria.

“Y/N! C’mere!” I hear a shout from behind me.

Daryl.

I don’t respond, not wanting anyone to see me like this. Despite my attempt to make a swift getaway, I hear his footsteps against the pavement behind me; then a hand on my shoulder.

“Hey, do ya-”

I turn around to face him now, not really seeing any other option at this point. A look of shock on his face, he brings his hand up to gently move a piece of hair out of my eyes.

“What the hell happened to ya? Did some ass-”

“Daryl, it’s fine. I’m fine.”

Hoping that my response satisfies him, I turn to continue walking. I feel him keeping up behind me.

“Look, if some idiot hurt-”

“I said I’m fine. Just leave it.” I snapped. I didn’t mean it to come out as harsh as it did but at that moment I just wanted to go home.

“At least let me patch ya up.” Daryl grumbles behind me, still keeping up the same pace.

Getting to my door, I fling it open and make my way to the kitchen and grab myself a glass of water. I watch as he fumbles around for the first aid kit; and once he finds it, he walks over to me.

“Ya gonna let me do this?” He asks, his voice surprisingly gentle.

I nod, setting my drink down on the counter. He puts the first aid kit down and pats the counter.

“C’mon, get up ‘ere.”

Silently, I do as he says, brushing my hair away from my face again. I watch as he gets a wet cloth, gently wiping it over my face. Daryl concentrates, and I can tell he’s doing his best to not hurt me; he wipes over the source of the bleeding and I wince.

“‘m sorry, darlin’” He mumbles softly.

Despite everything, my stomach flutters at the nickname.

“‘sjust a little cut, though. No stitches needed.” He reassures me as he gently wipes it again.

As he walks over to the sink to wash out the cloth, I take another sip of my drink, still not saying anything. Once he makes his way back over to me, he stands in front me and tucks one side of my hair behind my ear.

“Are ya okay?” He asks softly, his eyes meeting mine.

That did it. I suddenly felt a sob rising in my throat and I couldn’t hold it back.

“I- I’m so-” Not even able to finish my sentence, I feel hot tears streaming down my face.

“Alright, you’re okay. Take a breath for me y/n, yeah?” Daryl says as he wraps his arms around me, pulling me off the counter and into his arms.

Unable to respond, I sob into his chest. I feel his hand come up to my head, gently running his fingers through my hair.

“Ain’t no-one gonna hurt ya now, I got ya. You’re okay.” He soothes, gently landing a kiss on the top of my head.

For the first time in a long while, despite what had just happened; I felt safe. It took a while for me to be able to speak again.

“H-he never g-gave a shit a-about me.” I stutter.

“His m-mates; they cornered me a-and-” Pausing for a second, I struggle to get the words out.

“Ya don’t have to go into detail, darlin’.” He says softly, pulling me away from him so he could look at me.

“Those bastards are gonna get what’s comin’ to ‘em, alrigh’? I’ll take care of it.”

“Not now, Daryl. P-please don’t leave me r-right now.” I respond, still stuttering.

As I hear him sigh, he pulls me back into his embrace; just holding me for a little longer.

“I w-was so stupid to think anyone could ever-”

“Don’t say that shit. Yer not the problem, alrigh’? He didn’t know what he had.” He interrupted, once again pulling away from the hug to look at me; leaving his hands on my waist.

“Ya don’t know how important ya are.” He pauses, chewing on his lip.

“Daryl-”

“Yer important to me, y/n. You are one of the few people I give a shit about and I ain’t gonna let anyone ever hurt ya again, alright?” He says, his voice wavering slightly.

“I.. I care about you too, Daryl.” I mumble shyly in response.

His eyes flicked from my eyes to my lips and back to my eyes again.

“This’d probably be a bad time to kiss ya, huh?” he asks quietly.

I shake my head in response.

“Please kiss me.” I say, a blush spreading across my tear-stained cheeks.

With that, he presses his lips against mine. I snake my arms around his neck, melting into his touch.

All this time, it was him that I really wanted. I just never thought I had a chance.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #the walking dead #twd #twd daryl #daryl dixon angst

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aspiring-writer-hidden-voice · 3 years ago

Text

MHA Men and Their Children

Hello, loves! SuntoryAngel here! This will probably be the last post I have for a while to better focus upon the upcoming recovery coming my way. Myself, husband, and soon-to-be-born baby girl will be spending a month in the NICU where she will be undergoing lots of medical care/treatments for her heart defect. In the meantime, please enjoy and as always please let me know what you think!

F!Reader x various; pronouns are “She/Her”; Age: All characters are 18+ Warnings: Language, triggers, suggestive themes, 18+ will be marked with a 🔥, fluff, comfort, cuteness!

Izuku “Deku”

You startle awake, finding your ears ringing with how silent the air while reflexively reaching for the opposite side of the bed where another should be. There was no sign of him as you sat upright. Brief fear penetrated your being as a sound came from outside the bedroom’s cracked door. Was there an intruder and he had gone to investigate? No, there wasn’t a single villain alive who would dare take a risk like that. Not when your husband was the current Number One. That didn’t mean some stupid lower level who would take such a chance just to have their two seconds of fame on tv. Protective instinct rose as you realized that the sounds were coming from the direction of the nursery. No way was someone going to lay their hands on your children.

Silently and quickly you made your way to the door as one of the hallway lights flickered.

The breath you were in the middle of taking stalled as a shadow passed by the door.

Someone was here.

And your children were in one of the other rooms while you were at least twelve feet away.

Where was Izuku though?

“Mama?”

A slight shriek made to slip up your throat when glancing down to spot your four-year-old standing within the now open bedroom doorway, staring up at you with eyes that matched his father’s. “Emmry, honey, what are you doing out of bed in the middle of the night?” You dropped to one knee while collecting him in your arms, attempting to slow the hammering of your heart as he snuggled into your chest. “Scaring mama like that isn’t very nice, you had her thinking that someone was here who isn’t supposed to be.”

“No stranger danger, mama, I sowy.”

Your lips met his temple. “Did you have a bad dream that had to leave your little sister all by her lonesome? Come on, let’s get you back to bed so that she isn’t alone.”

“Can’t, mama, the snoring too loud!”

The step you’d been about to take into the hallway stalled. Snoring? Was the newest addition to your family falling ill? Just in case you grabbed the small basket that rested next to the door that was your nighttime kit full of various items to help with such situations while keeping a tight hold on your son. “Megumi is so tiny, how can her snoring bother you so much?”

Emmry’s little head shook as you paused outside the nursery door, small hands rising to cover his ears as you made to enter the room your children shared. You gently reminded him to use his words by means of a light finger tap against his lips that earned a pout. “Baby not snoring, she quiet, it’s dada.”

That caused you to hesitate.

The notion of Izuku being in the nursery wasn’t the odd part but the fact that his snoring had caused the eldest of the children to seek sleep somewhere else was. In the six years of your marriage you hadn’t once heard the freckled hero make so much of a peep in his sleep no matter how congested he became with a cold so excuse the disbelief you felt while staring at the door with a wide eyed gaze. It became wider when from the other side came an unmistakable drawn out elephant-fighting-a-walrus noise that was worthy of a nature documentary sounded. How had you not heard that through the baby monitor that was sitting on your bedside table?!

“Not lying, mama, too loud!”

You quickly hushed the little boy who clung to your nightshirt, unable to stem the curiosity that had filled you at this new discovery, and proceeded to crack the door open.

There, on the opposite end of the room faintly illuminated by the aurora nightlight that often soothed the children to sleep faster than any lullaby or storybook with its slow dancing colors, was the spread eagled man who was your husband with the tiny form that was your infant daughter splayed across the span of his chest that rose and fell in correspondence to the snores that permeated the air. He was a side sleeper who hated being on his back but the scene of him laying across the shag carpet floor without even a pillow or blanket covering him was truly a sight to behold as the matching “All Might” shirt he was wearing was mirrored by her tiny onesie that he’d hunted down to the very corners of the internet was almost too much for you to take. The pair seemed to shift, almost making you think they were going to wake, when the scarred right hand of Izuku lightly tapped his fingers along the spine of his whimpering child with expert precision that soon had her snuggling back into his warmth.

With a fond smile, you gently closed the door and nuzzled the young boy who yawned widely. “How about you sleep with mama tonight, hm? You can take over dada’s spot.” The excited smile that was flashed was overtaken by another yawn as you turned away from the door. A swipe of your finger across the baby monitor’s screen after tucking him into the sheets captured the visage that had been waiting for you and with a fond smile slipped back within the comfort of slumber along with your son who had instantly curled himself into as small of a ball as possible then tuck himself between your chin and tucked legs.

Keigo “Hawks” (🔥 for lactation kink)

Feathers lightly tickled against your sides. “H-hey, now, whose side are you on?” You playfully teased while shifting in your seat in attempts to escape the devious crimson appendages. “I’m trying to feed your starving children in case you haven’t noticed!”

“I’m just making sure that my mama bird is comfortable within the nest I built her, is that so horrible?”

“Come off it, you’re just trying to get a rile out of me to get back because they cock-blocked you last night.”

Amber eyes that had been closely watching the final member of the triplets within the nearby playpen locked on your gaze, revealing mock hurt. “I would never. Our baby birdies come first.”

You weren’t buying his façade though thanks to the lingering shadow of desire that lingered within his gaze that lingered upon your breasts which were currently being occupied by two very hungry mouths. “Seriously, Keigo, what’s gotten into you lately? We knew it was going to be a lot of work when we found out months ago but you’ve been acting odd ever since we got home from the hospital.” The snap of your fingers diverted his attention from the infants sucking your breasts and that was when it hit you of the possible reasoning behind the winged hero’s recent behavioral changes.

It wasn’t until you made sure that the triplets were properly fed, changed and laid down for their naps that you took action though.

He was in the kitchen, feathers darting across the space while performing various tasks from washing dishes to clearing away the leftovers from lunch, a fond smile lifting your lips at the scene. Postpartum recovery had gone smoothly for you all thanks to the man before you who now wore a flowered apron overtop his tight fitting workout wear. Even juggling the three children and your needs he still managed to keep himself in proper shape for when it was time to return to work, which wouldn’t be long now, and though the notion left you feelingly a bit sad it was what he needed. The slight turn of his body towards the pantry gave you the opening to enter without him seeing and earned a soft hum when your arms wrapped around his waist from behind. “Hey, mama bird, did they go down okay?”

“They’re sleeping like rocks thanks to the generous meal their mama gave them…but there’s plenty if you want a taste.”

Silence fell as each and every feather halted.

For a moment you thought he was going to deny or recoil from your suggestion but the sheer speed that the chores were carried out in left you nearly gaping in surprise as he suddenly spun on his heel while tearing off the apron and clung to his shoulders as he lifted you off the ground to plop you on the cleaned countertop, his lips instantly latching themselves upon your neck. The softest of moans sounded from deep within your throat as his hips lightly brushed against your own, the waistband of his biker style shorts teasing the sensitive scar that was from the C-section. “You sure?” he growled against your being as your fingers gently combed through his ashy hair. “Been so damn curious this whole time and they get to have it all to themselves…”

“All you had to do was ask.” The breathless whisper that slipped from between your lips as his fingers made easy work of the button up shirt you wore seemed to fuel his anticipation, the tip of his nose trailing lower until it came to a stop at the underlying nursing bra’s clasp. “They’re a bit bigger now, the doctors warned about that—” Your words were drowned in an appreciative moan as his hands carefully massaged them through the fabric. They’d been so sore thanks to the near constant nursing and swelling of your body keeping up with the hungry triplets that even this kind of touch was sending light sparks of electricity down your spine. “Oooh, Keigo~…”

His answer was a soft hum as the clasp was undone, allowing your breasts to spill forth from their prison, fingers remaining soft as they drifted across the clearly swollen flesh. The lids of your eyes drifted closed as the compulsion to grab a nearby towel as telltale pooling seeped into your nipples that told of liquid forming and a gasp slipped from between your lips as lips kissed each in turn. It was as if a switch had been flipped as you suddenly found yourself being pulled off the counter and sinking into the familiar duvet cover that was atop of your bed with his hot breath fanning your exposed chest. “Damn, kid, you’re killing me here…so fucking gorgeous…”

A soft whine sounded from your throat as his lips hovered over the left, wordlessly begging for him to take it into his mouth by arching your back, and hurried to bite your lip to quell the groan that rose when he finally did. There was no hesitation as he immediately took a draw that caused more of the white liquid to spill from the teat he now held captive between his lips. What you weren’t expecting was him to become more vigorous in his actions with each slow passing second that he remained attached to that nipple. “N-not so rough,” you sighed when a twinge of pain flared up as his teeth toyed with the bud, “please, Keigo, gentler.”

His ministrations instantly softened until the pressure was barely noticeable those amber eyes of his that had closed in concentration opening to peer up at you through their lashes, the bright blaze of arousal and desire dimming when noting how your expression shifted from painful to near euphoric. “Feelin’ good, mommy?”

It took a moment but you realized what he was truly asking, your hand rising to pet and comb through his hair with smooth strokes as a smile lifted the corners of your lips. “Yes, Keigo, you’re making mommy feel so good. How does she taste, hm?” Your voice dipped an octave as a light blush entered his cheeks. “Does it make you want more?”

The enclosure of his lips around the bud once more was his answer, along with the shallowest ruts of his hips against the bed.

“Does someone want more?”

“Please, mommy, I’ve been a good boy—” the press of your hand to the back of his head caused the rest of his sentence to be drowned in a loud swallow as the pressure caused more of your milk to flood his mouth, his eyes rolling backward as your leg that had been pinned by his hips gave an experimental grind against the growing erection.

Your lips lifted into a smirk as after a few more calculated rotations of your leg caused the man to stiffen as if he were attempting to hold himself back from an orgasm, but he had been right; he’d been such a good boy that he deserved a reward. Gently pulling away you shifted him to the other breast that had begun to feel neglected while sneaking a hand down to cup him through the athletic shorts, his moan reverberating through your flesh as he discovered that more of the liquid he’d been craving to taste was waiting for him. “Yes, you’re such a good boy, Keigo, mommy is going to make sure you feel amazing now. Just focus on drinking your fill and leave everything to me.”

Shoto Todoroki

“Every time you hold her, she starts crying.”

Your heart twinged a bit, unable to bring yourself to reprimand your husband as he quickly recollected the sobbing infant who had literally just been placed within her waiting grandfather’s arms who now wore a crestfallen expression. “I’m sure she’ll warm up to you—”

“Good girl.”

“Shoto!” A twitch rose in the corner of your eye as your fingers lightly flicking your passing husband’s arm when he departed for the kitchen.

The large man seated upon your couch seemed to regain his composure as you sighed. “Don’t bother. I know he still has yet to fully forgive me for everything I have put him through.”

Practically the whole world knew of the bad blood between the two pro heroes; father and son duo who had been at odds since the very beginning due to the rough upbringing he had put the youngest of his children through along with his wife who suffered heavy emotional damage. Shoto though had come a long way since his days at UA, where the two of you had met, becoming the man who may as well be a modern day chivalrous knight albeit lacking of certain social skills that others possessed. You didn’t care then and certainly don’t now while watching him settle within the rocking chair to begin feeding his daughter.

“Perhaps it is my scar that frightens her.”

“Doubt it.” The words had leapt from between your lips before you’d even realized it but they were true. As if to prove their truth the tiny infant cooing softly reached up with a waving hand until the duo haired hero bring his head down far enough for her tiny palm to meet the scar on his face. Chubby fingers looked ready to grab at his skin but they instead seemed to lightly pat at the darker hued area with care as if attempting to offer comfort to the adult who held her. Your lips couldn’t help the smile that raised them as Shoto’s expression became gentle. “He was so scared that she would be afraid of his that he honestly couldn’t hold her for the first few days until she outright refused anyone else, including myself, so she left him no choice but to finally hold her the night before we brought her home. That was when she slept the whole night through.”

Sensing your gaze, his rose to meet our own to reveal warm duo eyes so full of gratitude and love that every cell in your body swelled in fondness of the image they created. How could so much emotion be within a person’s gaze? He may not be one for words yet there was no denying all that you’ve seen him display during your time together. This, right here, seeing him feeding his infant daughter who treated a scar he once despised with such care, nearly moved you to tears. Shoto had been such a huge help when you’d discovered that your body wasn’t responding to her hunger cues, that it may be possible that you just couldn’t produce breast milk, and had devoted every fiber of his being to comforting you along with extensive research into which formula would be best for his daughter.

You turn your attention back to the silent pro who watched his son and granddaughter. “I think it might just take some time for her to get to know you a bit better. So long as you put forth the effort of wanting that in the first place, I personally don’t see a reason to limit your visits or opportunities to babysit. However—” the tip of your finger rose as the giant man nodded, “—that also means you need to make an attempt to patch things up with your son so that he can trust you with her.” There was no mistaking the feeling of Shoto’s gaze as you met Endeavor’s without blinking. It wasn’t often that you would initiate a vocal standoff with someone, let alone set boundaries as you just had, so you could only imagine the expression of surprise on your husband’s face as you remained focused upon the flaming hero who looked as if you’d smacked him across the face. “It’s not impossible for either of you two to meet in the middle if it’s for her, right? The least you both can agree on is that you love her so build up on it then branch out from there. Sound fair?”

Silence hung for several seconds until the sound of Shoto rising from the chair came, followed by footsteps until he came to a stop in front of the near hopeful looking pro hero. “I learned a trick recently that has helped with her feedings when someone besides one of us wants to hold her.”

Laughter threatened to bubble up your throat when a photo of himself appeared upon Endeavor’s forehead courtesy of a piece of tape that covered the entirety of his face.

“If she assumes or thinks that the person holding her is either of us, it may help.”

“He’s not lying,” you managed without giggling as faint wisps of smoke rose from the pro’s hair, “its been proven by science and she seems to warm up to people faster with it. If you don’t want the picture taped to you I can always lend you one of my maternity shirts that might be big enough so that you at least smell like me.”

For a few seconds you thought he was going to object yet the large man surprised you when he wordlessly shed the sweater he’d been wearing while grabbing the blanket you’d used during the pregnancy; you’d been meaning to wash it because of the build up of stains yet he paid them no mind as he draped it over his chest and held out his hands towards Shoto in silent plea to try holding her again. Your brows rose as the infant was passed from one hero to the other that wasn’t followed by loud wailing or cheek staining tears as she snuggled into the blanket.

“And here I was looking forward to seeing him try to squeeze into one of your blouses and if that didn’t work see if he would go as far ass wearing one of your bras.”

“Shoto!”

**A/N: This really is a neat trick for those who have difficulty getting their child to take a bottle from someone other than their mother; it’s worked with five out of my thirteen cousins who had eating issues when they came home from the hospital.**

Eijiro Kirishima

A light tap on your shoulder pulled you from the pleasant nothing that was dreamland, a weary smile lifting your lips when finding that it was the nurse who was responsible. You waved away their apology for waking you as the familiar sounds that you’ve come to identify as a hungry whimper directed your attention to the bundle they held. “Aw, is baby shark ready to try again after his nap?” The coo that came from between your lips was softer than a whisper while accepting the swaddled infant as the medical professional helped to ease the collar of your hospital gown far enough to expose a bare breast that was readily collected between the gaping lips of a wiggling newborn barely eight hours old. Brief pain flared as he began to suckle fervently but it was eased by the nurse’s encouragement. “Sure he doesn’t have his teeth yet? Certainly feels like something sharp is tugging on me.”

“I would honestly not be surprised if his came in early.” The nurse chuckled while checking the machines you were hooked up to. “His development is in the higher percentiles already as they have been during the entirety of your pregnancy. You both must be so proud of such a fine child.”

Your head fell back to rest against the pillow with a sigh, your free hand fondly falling to rest upon the head of crimson hair that was attached to your husband’s head that rested upon the bed. He had probably fallen asleep shortly after you to make sure that you got a bit of rest while the baby was tended to by the doctors. It had been a long labor, lasting a little over forty-three hours and with multiple doses of anesthesia combined with epidural, your gaze darting to the hand that he had sacrificed to suffer your strangling grasp whenever a contraction had seized your body to find it still slightly swollen. That sharp-toothed man who held your heart hadn’t once used his quirk to save himself of any pain that you inflicted upon him. If you knew him like you did it was probably his attempt to make things even between the two of you after all of the ails and woes that pregnancy had brought you despite your assurances that it wasn’t necessary.

The infant fussed slightly when you shifted so that he was instead suckling the other breast to bring him closer to the slumbering father’s figure. Alarm filled you as a tiny chubby fist instantly took hold of the red hair within reach, instantly earning a startle and for heavily shadowed eyes to fly open then blink as what you could only call a giggle sounded from the child as it snuggled into your flesh once releasing the bright hued hair. With the promise to return in a while the nurse excused themselves and then it was just the three of you.

“Sorry,” you offered an apologetic smile when Eijiro’s head rose from the bed as he blinked up at you for several seconds, “they said infants tend to be grabby and to be careful of dangling jewelry or hair that could be potential hazards.”

It was your turn to blink in confusion as he perked before turning away to rummage around in the suitcase that had your personal belongings but understanding filled you when he flipped his head a few times in a recognizable fashion until he had managed to gather his long tresses into a high sitting ponytail courtesy of a spare hair tie that he’d found. Pride radiated off of him as he showcased his handiwork to you with a few tilts of his head, to which you commended his skill since he had been helping you with your own ever since you’d begun dating, humming softly when he slipped between your form and the bed’s back. His chin fell to rest upon the crook of your shoulder with eyes filled with so many stars they would put those of fan girls’s who thought they still had a chance with the pro hero Red Riot to shame. “How’s my pebble and baby shark doing?”

“I’d say he could rival your appetite.” You couldn’t help but tease, earning a wrap of his arms around the two of you and a light chuckle. Adoration filled you as he fondly nuzzled your cheek while one of his hands gently pet the wispy black locks that donned the infant’s crown. “You can go down to the cafeteria if you’re hungry, Eiji, I promise we aren’t going anywhere.”

He shook his head, feeling his lips rise into a grin against your skin. “Room service is what I’m thinking.”

The back of your hand rose in an attempt to hold in a laugh when he picked up the nearby phone. It wasn’t more than thirty minutes later that the poor runner whom you had come to know and pity appeared at the room’s entrance with not one but two carts in tow that were laden with food. They shot you a wide smile when spotting the bundle you held, offering congratulations as they set to placing the food within the bed’s reach, departing with a teasing glare sent in the pro hero’s direction; they indeed had come to know of his stomach’s limit and would surely be back with another order once this one had disappeared. You couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the multitude of plates and cups. “Even for you this is a bit much.” A gasp caught in your chest when instead of digging into the smorgasbord he instead carefully put together a plate of foods that would be easy for the stomach to digest as well as provide plenty of nourishment and carbs to help speed along the recovery process, tears welling in your eyes when he offered a utensil bearing an offering. What you were sure to be a sweet gesture suddenly made you feel incapable and a bit spiteful since you did still have a free hand to do things with. “You don’t have to feed me, Eiji, I can do it myself.”

“I know you can, pebble, but I want to so open up before I eat it myself.” He must have caught on to the sudden flood of hormones that you were fighting as his lips lightly pressed against your temple when a pout tilted your lips downwards in the corners, assuring that he only wanted to ensure that you had some sort of substance before letting you fall asleep again. “I won’t touch anything until you do.” That, and the loud protest of your stomach, were all the convincing you needed. It didn’t take long for you to get full, what with your body still adjusting to the sudden growth in space that it had been lacking for the last several months, and wearily rested your head against his being with a satisfied sigh as he moved the cleaned plate away. “Looks like baby shark is about done too. Can I burp him?” With gentleness that you’d come to discover of the pro hero he carefully accepted his milk tipsy son in the same hold that had been demonstrated by a nurse during the pre-birth courses and earned a hefty belch from the giggly infant within a few seconds of delivering precise pats to the lower back. A wide grin lifted Eijiro’s lips as he playfully cooed at the child while rubbing their noses together. “Listen to that! Think you might give me a run for my ‘Loudest Belch’ title!”

Already you could hear the seemingly endless challenges that the two would partake in once he got older yet the smile that raised your lips was face splitting as the red haired man continued to play with his son who grinned toothlessly. “I can’t wait.”

Katsuki Bakugo

The lump of emotion rose within your throat when the doctor and nurses walked in, a pink bundle within their midst that was too quiet for your liking as they approached.

Loud beeping slowly pulled you out of the tar-like darkness, squinting against the bright lights that immediately assaulted your eyes when they cracked open. Incoherent whispers and hushed shouts farther compelled you to free the lingering clouds from your mind as awareness spread along with the growing light. A horrible gut wrenching feeling immediately took root as the feeling of empty space met the palm of your hand when it reflexively went to ensure that the child that had been growing within your being was near. An agony filled wail slipped up your throat as adrenaline pounded through your veins which gave your system a jumpstart to toss the blankets off your form to reveal the large bandage on your deflated stomach. Hands and arms instantly wrapped around you from the side as large scalding tears spilled down your cheeks. “Where is she?!” You screamed, eyes that had been searching the room for any sign of your child falling to rest upon the blonde man who tightened his hold on you. “What happened?!”

“Calm down and listen to me.” You weakly fought against his hold as he whispered lowly into your ear, nearly shocking you with how hoarse he sounded and the ring of desperation that was within every word that passed between his lips, but fell still when you felt droplets of liquid splatter across your skin as trembling that wasn’t coming from you. “The labor had complications and they had to perform an emergency C-section to save you both…” he finally croaked after what felt like an eternity of silence, “…you had to get a dual blood transfusion and she had to be rushed to the NICU because her heart had stopped at the same time yours did from the blood loss.”

It has been over two months since you’d been admitted, a whole five weeks since the first surgery that was supposed to help her little heart beat easier, and an entire four days since you’d seen Katsuki thanks to some important mission. It was only because of your encouragement that he went at all instead of staying here in the hospital with you. Sitting around was not something the firecracker blonde was good about especially when there was nothing that could be done until the doctors said it was safe for their infant to venture home. Your own recovery had helped to keep you busy yet even through therapy and checkups your mind still remained upon the tiny child you had yet to hold.

“The surgery was a success and her life is no longer in danger. We were capable of enlarging the aorta valve that had been closed off so that her body receives ample oxygenated blood. The blue hue left her skin several days ago but we’re afraid that the scar will forever be apart of her from this moment forth.”

Tears welled within your eyes as the infant was slowly passed to you, relief and longing threatening to rip apart the heart in your chest that had been bleeding for the small child you had yet to meet. The moment you had shifted the blanket was when her eyes opened to reveal large tiger orange gems that glittered with shards of rubies that she’d inherited from her father. “Hey, baby girl,” you cooed softly while adjusting your hold so that she could hopefully see all of you, “I bet that was super scary but I’m so proud of you.” The heart in your chest gave a tight squeeze as her hand wiggled free of the swaddle to reach for your face, those tiny fingers of hers grabbing tight hold of your much larger one.

“There is the matter of paperwork—”

“Already ahead of ya, doc, now let me through already.” A choked sob rose up your throat as through the lab coat and scrub wearing medical teams marched a figure dressed in black cargo pants, military style boots and was crowned by wild blonde hair that failed to obscure the pair of bright red ruby eyes that bore into your own as he approached. He paused mere inches away from reaching you though, concern and worry shinning brightly within his gaze while glancing at the bundle you held.

“Take off that mask so she can properly see you, dumbass,” you lightly chuckled, carefully reaching out to encourage him closer and removed the protective face covering that the hospital required all visitors to wear, “she’s not gonna bite so stop standing there like an awkward weirdo and come meet your baby girl.” The tears you’d been fighting back during each of the virtual consultations where the doctors would update you on her condition finally spilled as he slowly fell to his knees as if all of his strength had vanished.

Vulnerability was as foreign upon Katuski’s face as uncertainty so to see both present at the same time nearly stole your breath away. Of course he’d be hesitant right now. After all the warnings from the doctors that even the lightest of colds could put her life in jeopardy combined with the nature of his quirk was bound to put mental strain upon him in this moment. All the joy and anticipation that should’ve accompanied the man in preparation of this precious moment was completely overshadowed by the dire reality of what had happened. Within the depths of his precious gemstone gaze you could see the wheels turning as he took a breath…and another…then another.

The hand you’d left extended carefully slipped down his toned arm to lightly grasp his fingers, which twitched at your contact, but didn’t refuse as they were led forward until they brushed against the fluffy pastel pink blanket. Almost immediately the child you held began to wiggle and cry. You prevented him from yanking away by taking firm hold of his hand, seeing how the infant’s reaction had deeply wounded the pro hero despite his attempt to hide it. Before he had realized it you’d shifted to the edge of the chair you were sitting in so that the bundled girl was between his chest and yours. Panic that had risen within his gaze was overtaken by anger before it was replaced by blank uncertainty as the child fell silent.

He had reflexively settled back upon the linoleum floor when you’d moved, his legs crossing to better situate and distribute your added weight, one arm somehow finding the bend of your waist while the other had risen to help support her upper body. How long has it been since he had held you like this? Far too long for your liking. This right here, in this position, was your favorite place in the world and you knew it was his as well because it helped him better cope with the nightmares and darkness he faced on the streets. Your head fell to rest against his chest as his own curiously tilted. Besides in pictures or the rare video calls that you’d shared this was the first time either of you had been allowed to hold her; this was something that had become so sacred to the two of you which most families may not fully understand.

“Twinkle twinkle, little sparkler, how I’ve loved you from afar…”

Tremors wracked his being as you softly began to sing, moisture gathering within the corners of his eyes as the baby you both cradled lit up with recognition of the song. Honestly you’d come up with it on the fly one night while on a call with him as she lay on the opposite side of a windowed wall that prevented you from touching her. It had seemed to bring the fussy infant comfort despite the distance between the three of you as well as the pro hero who was halfway across the world.

“Shinning brightly with those eyes that remind us of tiger’s stripes…now that we’re together our hearts are whole…and we can now venture home…never forget this song we sing…”

One of his hands rose, faintest of sparks dancing across his fingertips that earned the brightest of smiles and a bubbly laugh from the infant. “…or how much I’ll make them fly if someone makes you cry…” A sob slipped up your throat when the tiny hand met the side of his cheek, a single droplet of water slipping down the opposite as his expression became one of relief, your lips pressing against his in a brief peck before his buried his face within the blanket that earned a high pitched squeal as his soft blonde hair tickled the girl’s face.

Fumikage Tokoyami (SFW)

“Mami, look! I’m Dark Shadow!”

You couldn’t help but smile as your son of six years sped across the living room’s length as fast as his little legs could carry him. “Careful, Dante, don’t want you tripping—”

A crash sounded, cutting off the rest of your sentence that was closely followed by the softest of whimpers.

“—or hurting yourself.”

Strategically, you stepped out of the kitchen taking care to avoid the spikes that had appeared as if from nowhere that were courtesy of the young child’s quirk until you came to a stop near the balled figure that was your son where you dropped to one knee. “Show me?” Swimming cranberry hued eyes rose to meet your gaze at your gentle request as a fresh carpet burn was showcased upon his knee. A light kiss was pressed against the bright angry wound, earning a flinch that was eased into a teary laugh as your fingers brushed along his sides. “What did we learn?”

“No running in the house, I know, I was just playing—I’m sorry, mami, no more tickles!” He laughed as your fingers quickened.

“It would be wise to listen to one’s mother.” A deep voice called from somewhere in the room, drawing both of your attentions to the figure who materialized with an amused glint in his red gaze as the spikes vanished. “Especially when she has such an effective means of attack that can render even the greatest of foes immobile.” Fumikage readily collected the young boy who wiggled free of your hold to take a mock protective stance between the two of you, one arm extended as if to fend you off as Dark Shadow appeared from behind to rest its chin atop of your son’s shoulder to watch in curiosity.

Smiling, you held up your hands in mock surrender that earned a knowing smirk before he took the step that would bring you closer and bypassing his arm managed to place a quick kiss against the fine feathers that would normally be hidden by his choker before he managed to enclose you within a tight embrace. “Welcome home, my mighty warrior,” you cooed softly when the curve of his beak brushed along the length of your neck that was willingly offered with a hum, “I hope your night was eventful and prosperous.”

“Eww, PDA!”

“I’m takin’ the kid to the park since you two clearly need some time to yourselves!”

The two of you chuckled lowly while turning your attentions to the boy who rolled his eyes while running for the nearby closet where his shoes would be found.

“Hold one moment.”

Your brows rose at the stern note that he used when addressing the boy, also earning a wide eyed panic filled glance from him, as he moved to stand before the pro hero. “It was only an accident, Fumi,” you whispered softly when feeling the tension radiating off his form, “I think he learned his lesson.”

“That is not my concern.” He dropped to one knee so that they were eye level, his hands falling to rest upon his son’s shoulders. “Dante, do we need to train more after school to help you control your quirk? You may not have meant to but your mother could have been hurt just now. And someone else as well.”

So that was the lesson he wanted to portray.

The young boy caught on just as quickly as you had, his wide gaze darting to the nearby swing that held a small infant who watched with eyes that mirrored your own. You felt a swell of pride when Dante hurried to the baby’s side once released, careful to instruct him on how to properly support his brother’s head while picking him up, and rested a hand atop of his head when he turned to stand beside you. Not a single scratch could be seen on the child as you examined him closely and pressed a peck to a chubby cheek before placing one upon your eldest. “How about we all go to the park, hm? I know how much you’ve missed your father as of late and it’s been quite sometime since we’ve ventured out as a family.”

“It has gotten late, my angel, however I do not protest against an outing such as this.” Fumikage’s smile was infectious as your child hurried to grab his brother’s outerwear from the next room, your own lips lifting in the corners as he turned his attention fully to you with that glint you’d seen several times when he was debating on something.

“Recall your own words,” you purred lowly while stepping up so that your forms were brushing and the curve of his beak lightly met your lips, “for it is in the darkness that one’s desires can be fully realized without hinderance of society or fear of judgement. Perhaps while the children are playing under Dark Shadow’s careful watch, you and I may once again reacquaint ourselves with the darkness that gave birth to them?”

A low growl was your only warning as he suddenly pivoted to sandwich you against the wall with his hips against yours and heated breath ghosting across your exposed neck that had willingly exposed itself to him. What was recognizable as his tongue trailed with a feather’s light touch across the pulse point in your neck, a favorite place of his to leave marks that would tell the world of whom you belonged to, teasing the sensitive skin there by nibbling it until your back arched with a soft moan. “Temptress, you sing a siren’s song this night’s eve. Perhaps I have indeed neglected you for far too long. Forgive me, oh goddess of mine, but make no mistake that I shall repay all my transgressions until every inch of your body is permeated with my love.”

“We’re going on ahead, you two catch up whenever you’re done with…you know!” And the door closed with a loud bang, leaving the two of you alone within the residence which you called home.

Silence fell but it was the growing embers within his gaze that quickly became infernos that made the fine hairs across your body rise and core warm. “My warrior, must you wait for an invitation? Even a hunter’s patience eventually wanes to give rise to actions which can not be conveyed with words alone.” You were not disappointed as he swept you up into his arms high enough that your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist to bring him closer still as he carried your towards the nearby bedroom.

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