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harrysweasleys · 4 years

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a day in the life // f.w

request: Hi Alexaaaa So someone brought up this idea on my blog and i wanna request it id thats alright with you. So like imagine Fred having an auror wife and stuff and him being v protective and not wanting her to go on this dangerous mission but she goes anyway but gets really badly injured and poor freddie is worried sick. I love comfort fics i cannot lie and i hope u like this request thank you

warnings: mentions of explosions, injury, blood, and food

word count: 2.4k

a/n: hey guys! i hope you all had a wonderful week and that everyone is safe! the new year is right around the corner, can you believe it? where did the time go?? anyways, this was such a fun request and i loved writing it so much, so i hope you all enjoy! xx

“For the last bloody time, Freddie, it’s going to be fine,” you groaned, your head tossing backwards as you repeated the words to your husband for what felt like the thousandth time.

He crossed his arms, “I know you can handle yourself, but please. Please, for me, be careful. Don’t let anyone get the jump on you.”

A small smile made its way onto your lips and you placed your hands on his shoulders, “I always return, don’t I?”

“Yes,” he grumbled. You knew he hated it when you went off on dangerous missions — how couldn’t he? You were his wife. It was practically an oath of his to protect you. A vow. There was no way he’d let you run into the jaws of death without giving you a rough time beforehand. He always had something to say about it.

And he often did just that. He’d go on and on about how you could get hurt, how something could go terribly wrong and he could be left by himself. How you needed to see things from his point of view. You’d then spend the morning comforting him and convincing him you’d be fine, but at the end of the day, he’d always give you a bone crushing hug, muttering “glad you’re home safe” as he did so.

“I’ll be home in time for dinner, yeah?” you asked, standing up on your tip toes and pressing a light kiss on his nose. He scrunched up his face as you did so. You could tell he was trying to act upset at your leaving, but he couldn’t stay mad at you. Especially when, in his thinking, it could be the last time he sees you.

“Fine,” his lips stuck out in a small pout, one of his hands reaching up to run through your hair, “Stay safe, love.”

You brought your hand to his, lifting it to your lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles, “Love you. See you soon. I’ll be fine.”

He then tossed your hand to the side — gently, of course — and brought your lips to his. His hand was cupped under your chin, fingers causing a slight ticklish feeling as they delicately moved against your skin. But the feeling went practically unnoticed as you lost yourself in his kiss. His kiss that often rendered you breathless and weak in the knees.

You could feel his love and protectiveness in the gesture and it almost made you want to call in sick so you could stay curled up in bed with him, ignoring the world’s problems and acting as you two were the only people on the planet.

But, sadly, that couldn’t happen.

So you gingerly pulled away, already missing his warm lips against yours, and muttered a quiet “I’ll be fine,” once again before beginning to button your jacket.

It was going to be a long day.

Hours later and you were, in fact, not fine.

The mission had gone horribly wrong, leaving you with a heavily bandaged left arm, a throbbing head, and a group of St Mungo’s best Healers giving you countless antidotes and potions to prevent bleeding and further damage. You had only really been in for about an hour, but the swelling in the left side of your body had gone down heavily.

The pain was still rather horrendous, but you didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. Especially not with the current levels of exhaustion floating through your body. You felt as if any second now, you could completely pass out and stay asleep for the next seven years. And you wouldn’t even complain.

Pain really did take a toll on one’s body.

What was even more draining, though, was the fact that your Healer told you you’d have to stay the night. You trusted the staff at St Mungo’s with your life — it wasn’t exactly the first time you’ve been treated here, to be honest — but the room you were staying in was incredibly chilly and the food here was never as good as at home.

Plus, here, you didn’t have Fred’s body curled up next to you.

Fred.

He had gotten the message an hour ago that you were here and he said he’d close up shop early to come see you. They said he sounded rather when they sent someone to deliver the message, but you knew he’d barge in through those doors with wide eyes and panic written across every inch of his face. He was never one to really hide away from his worry, but you had seen him silent on a few occasions. Usually when he was in shock.

You felt awful. Both physically and emotionally. Fred had every right to be paranoid about you leaving the house; this wasn’t your first injury. And yet, you spent every morning persuading him to let you go. Fast forward to today, where you were currently bandaged in an uncomfortable bed at St Mungo’s. Not an ideal ending to your day, to be honest. And not an ideal piece of news for Fred to receive.

“Your husband is here, should we let him in?” one of the healers came to your side, checking under the bandage on your hand before nudging her head in the direction of the hallway.

A small groan left your throat, “Of course.”

She walked towards the door to the room and opened it, Fred’s frantic face finding its way to your bedside as quickly as possible. You could see the paleness of his skin, making his usually fiery hair stand out even more. His sweater was badly buttoned, and you were pretty sure the scarf he was wearing was on backwards.

If the situation was any different to the way it was right now, you’d probably have a good chuckle.

His hands immediately found yours, giving small, gentle squeezes as if he would break you if he put any more pressure, “Love, are you okay? What happened? Are you badly hurt?”

You let out a sigh with a small smile, “Freddie, I’m fine. It’s just some minor bumps and bruises. I got caught in the middle of an explosive curse, it’s fine.”

He pulled his hands away from yours and sat on the small metal chair next to the bed, pulling it as close to you as he could, his eyes scanning every inch of you as if he were doing his own evaluation, “It’s fine?! I was worried out of my bloody mind, woman. Can you imagine the panic when some bloke comes to tell me my wife’s at Mungo’s? Bloody thought you were dying.”

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” you joked, rolling your eyes playfully before reaching your hand out to grab his, toying with the wedding band on his left hand, “I just have to stay here for the night. I’ll be home first thing tomorrow.”

“You have to stay?” his bottom lip stuck out, the childish pout on his face adding to the guilt fluttering in your chest.

You sat up slightly, trying to limit the weight on your bad arm, “I’m sorry, love. It’s for precaution. I don’t want to leave and make things worse. But, I promise, as soon as I’m discharged, we are heading home and doing nothing all day, yeah?”

“Well, I’ll stay here with you tonight ,” he puffed out his chest slightly as if he was a superhero, causing a bubble of laughter to erupt from your chest. Maybe it was just the exhaustion from your day, bud Fred’s sense of humour really never failed to get to you. Even at the worst of times.

Your eyes began to droop, but you gave his hand a squeeze, letting him know that even though you were fading, you were still listening and conscious. The last thing you wanted, now that he was here, was to leave him alone in the cold room. Cold, both in temperature and in atmosphere.

“You look tired, love,” his voice was soft, gentle. Loving. All the things you wanted to hear right now. If you were honest, you were worried he was going to be furious. Not at you, per say, but at what happened. So the fact that he was being caring and sweet meant more to you than you could begin to express.

Your eyes fluttered shut as he rubbed soothing circles on the back of your hand, “Tired? Me? Never.”

His laugh was quiet but you could hear it loud and clear, “Go to sleep. I’ll be here when you get up.”

You didn’t want to sleep, to be honest. You wanted to sit up and talk to him. To let him know you were sorry and just what went wrong today. You knew he’d listen, and would most likely panic a bit more when you told him the details — but he’d be comforting. And that was kind of what you needed right now.

But, alas, your body had other ideas, and before you knew it, you were sound asleep.

“I can handle it myself,” you groaned, both hands gripped tightly on the jar of jelly, twisting with all of your might and still, somehow, not getting the lid to pop off.

Fred stood in the doorway to the kitchen, his arms crossed and a small smirk on his lips, “Alright, I’ll just watch from here.”

You stuck your tongue out at him, turning back to the jar and focusing all of your strength into opening it. Which wasn’t saying much, to be fair. You hardly had your strength back, and your body was still as sore as ever. You should probably give the jar to Fred, but your inner stubbornness told you to do it yourself. You couldn’t improve if everyone did everything for you.

“You’re sure?” his voice was laced with amusement as he held back a laugh, watching as your cheeks turned red from the amount of force you put into opening this jelly jar. You were surprised it hadn’t broken, but then again, were you even applying that much force?

“I’m fine!” you grumbled, using your sleeve to prevent the skin on your hand from getting irritated, your palm already bright pink from excessive use.

But it seemed to be no use. Your toast will have gone cold by now, and your breakfast just wouldn’t taste the same.

“Fine, here,” you mumbled, sticking your arm out and pushing the small jar into Fred’s chest, your bottom lick stuck out in a pout that could rival your husbands, “I hate feeling useless.”

He popped the lid of the jar as if it were nothing before handing it back to you, “I know, love. But you’re not useless. Your body just needs time to recuperate, yeah? Can’t go pushing your limits or you’ll just end up back in St Mungo’s, and I reckon you don’t want that.”

“I don’t want that,” you replied, beginning to spread the contents of the jar onto your now-cold toast, “I’m just bored. I miss work. I stay home alone all the time.”

His arms slithered around your waist, giving you a light squeeze as he rested his head atop yours, “Georgie’s taking over the shop today so I can stay here with you. We can do whatever you want.” His warmth spread through your body.

You had to admit, that did lift your spirits a little bit. The whole day at home with your husband? That sounded like quite the treat.

“Really?” you turned to face him, his arms still wrapped around your waist, but he took a step back so you could actually look up at him, “The whole day?”

“Course,” he grinned, pressing his lips to your forehead, “Gotta take care of my girl.”

The day hadn’t been overly eventful; a few cuddles on the couch, a few cuddles in the bed, listening to music, sitting next to Fred and watching telly as he organized paperwork for the shop. Just a few small things. But being with him for the whole day, it really did make you feel a million times better than you had all week.

Maybe that was his plan. To use his very presence as a way to cheer you up. Whether he did it knowingly or not, it did the trick. And now, the aches and pains in your body seemed to dissolve as he ran his hands up and down your arms, the two of you curled up in bed and ready for another night’s sleep.

“Thanks for spending the day with me,” your shot him a smile, but highly doubted that he’d see it in the dark, “I already feel loads better.”

“Of course you do,” his voice sounded cocky even though you couldn’t quite make out his face, “I make anyone feel better. I’m a real treat.”

You scoffed, “Yeah, I adore your humbleness. That’s why I married you.”

One of his hands slid around your waist and pulled you closer to him, body flushed against his. He was still gentle as if not to hurt you, “Not the only reason you married me, love.”

“Right, I also married you for George. I don’t know what I’d do without that chap in my life,” you teased, one of your hands finding it’s way into Fred’s hair, twirling at the strands that were starting to get long. Not as long as when you were in school together, but long enough that it covered his ears and often made you tuck a few strands behind his ear.

“You wound me,” he tried to pull away, but you held onto him enough that he couldn’t. Your strength was starting to come back, which was a massive improvement.

“I’m actually the wounded one,” you rebutted, your face finding it’s usual spot in the crook of his neck, his warmth encasing you like one of his hugs.

His arms wrapped around you, “You can’t be wounded anymore! I gave you so much love. That should have healed you.”

You giggled, placing a light kiss as the nape between his neck and shoulder, “Silly me. Your love has healed me, that’s very true.”

Fred might have had a certain reputation while the two of you were in school. But now, with your marriage only getting better by the day, you couldn’t help but see him as just one thing. As Fred. Your husband, your lover, and the man who would throw himself into a fire if it meant saving your life.

You lucked out more than you can even begin to express, and you would continue to be so for the remainder of your days.

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386 notes · View notes

palbabor-writes · 4 years

Note

OK so please consider typical Shig/reader where theres unspoken mutual attraction and they're not quite together but it's Post-kamino Shig, like IMMEDIATE post-kamino where he's still processing and incredibly vulnerable from just losing his sensei. I've had this in my head for a while but IDK how it would go and I think you'd do it justice (just ignore this if u don't wanna i just needed to put it out there 😌)

ugh, i loved this idea. where do you find them lydia? they just live in your mind rent free and i want to go to there. gosh, thank you for the ask.

Pairing: Shigaraki Tomura x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Adult language, SMUT, NSFW/18+ only, mild angst, pivotal life moments, TW: drinking/drug use, masturbation, blow jobs, face fucking, spanking/mild pain play, vaginal fingering, cunniliginus, overstimulation, switching, dirty talk, loss of virginity (if you squint), dominance, vaginal sex

Word Count: 11,800

Notes: oh man. so, if the word count didn’t give it away, this is plot, with a hefty dose of porn. in my mind, this is all part of the grieving process for shigaraki and he’s having a rough time coming to terms with what he’s needing to do. yeah, AFO supported him and enabled him to build a following, but he also hid all of the major pieces from him (i.e. the doctor & gigantomachia) so i can see him mourning for AFO as a teacher & as a psudo loved one, after all, at the end of that chapter he’s clutching those hands to him like he’ll fall apart without them.

Edited by the lovely Lydia: @kugutsuu. she is the best and if you’re not reading her works, all I have to say is: YOU SHOULD BE.

Mise en Place

/mē-ˌzäⁿ-ˈpläs/ noun or verb a French culinary phrase which means "putting in place" or "everything in its place.”

This has got to be the strangest, hole in the wall, bar you’ve ever worked at.

The patrons are touchy and most seem downright dangerous. The whole lot of them are more like mid level criminals than the usual haggard, overworked, regular, citizens you find in local watering holes. Meanwhile, the gentleman who runs the day to day operations shares more similarities with a will o’ the wisp than a man, and the bar itself is smack dab in one of the seediest parts of town.

The liquor selection, however, is top of the line. Some of the labels you haven’t seen outside of posh hotels or high class country clubs, and many of the older bottles are rarities. Honestly, there are so many of the high brow bottles that you’re not sure who to ask about the rail selection. There’s no real order to the place and it’s the most free reign you’ve ever been given with your mixology experiments. There’s not even a listing of drinks to go off of. But, if the disgruntled evening crowd is happy, then so is the upper management. All they ask is that you lock up before you leave.

No, nothing about this place makes sense. But, it does pay well and, right now, that’s the only thing you need to worry about.

There’s one other barkeep, a stogy man named Akio. He usually works the day shift, but late yesterday afternoon, he’d given you a call and asked if the two of you could swap for the duration of next week. At first, you’d balked, worried you’d need to schmooze with an unfamiliar bunch of regulars, who’d then decline to tip simply because you were new. But, Akio had sweetened the pot with the promise of $20,000 yen, so, you’d agreed.

“It’s fairly quiet in the afternoon,” Akio reassured you. “It’s really just putting away shipment and serving the odd customer who happens to pass by. The only thing...well, I’m sure you’ve met him. You’ve been working there for over a month, no way you could miss him.”

“Who?” you ask, twirling your spoon in your mid-morning coffee, curious, but not wanting to seem overly eager in your questioning. You like your night shift and you’re not wanting this to become a regular swap. You detest having to lug heavy boxes to and fro, pulling liquor and checking lot numbers, ick. Plus, if it really is that slow in the afternoons, it would only be a matter of time before Kurogiri would come after you with a duster and ask you to clean the upper shelves. Yeah, no, thanks. This would be a one week deal, ONLY.

“His name is Shigaraki. He’s, er, different. I suppose you’ll meet him soon, if you haven’t already.”

“Shigaraki? No, that name doesn’t ring a bell. Is he--”

“I have to go, my son is here. Thanks again for the swap and talk soon, (Y/N).”

The line clicks and you let your phone fall from your ear, clattering the metal and plastic along your kitchen table. Shigaraki, you think, taking a scalding sip of your coffee, no, that’s not a name you’ve heard before. Wonder what it is about him that has Akio so on edge. It’s not like him to give you, er, whatever that strange heads-up had been. Either way, it would take more than a vague descriptor like different, to spook you off.

******

Akio was right, on all counts, about the haze of monotony that permeated the afternoon shift at the bar.

Well, right on everything except a sighting of that elusive Shigaraki guy. No, the whole afternoon it’s just been you, Kurogiri, and one, rather sloshed old man, who you’ve long since cut off, and propped at the far end of the bartop. It’s been a dull, slow, day. Thank God you’d taken that extra cash from Akio, or this might not even turn out to be worth your while.

You’re slipping another bottle of whiskey on the lower shelf when you hear a barstool scrape back. You turn at the sound, your head already lifted and a small, friendly, smile lingering on your lips. There’s a lanky guy, dressed all in black with a mop of wavy white hair, working himself onto the small seat. His head is lowered and he hasn’t bothered to look up at you, not yet, anyway. He looks, not really young, but you can’t tell and you’re not about to let some underaged kid worm his way in here. You’ve had enough of those punks sneaking in in the evening, thank you.

“Gimme a shot of scotch,” the man says, his voice low, with a quiet rasp racing along the tone. It’s a strange timbre and it makes you pause, your eyes scanning those pearlescent strands of hair that are hiding his face from view.

“Hmph,” you snort, arching a brow at his attempts at concealment. He must be underage, who comes up to a barkeep with a ducked head and demands a scotch?

“Let me give you a piece of advice, don’t come into a bar and immediately refuse to make eye contact with the bartender. We’re like animals at the zoo, we startle easily and don’t like surprises. And, with your face tucked like that, I can’t gauge your age. So, before I get you that unnamed and unbranded scotch, I’m gonna to need to see some ID.”

The man lifts his head at your preamble and you feel your breath catch at the raw annoyance that’s etched across his scarred and cracked face. His eyes are a rich red, closer to ruby and they latch onto yours, insistent and sharp. It’s a deeply intense stare and you can’t seem to pull yourself away, your brow furrowing at his sudden shift in demeanor.

“I don’t have an ID,” he snaps, his lips lifting into a snarl, showing you the vivid whiteness of his teeth.

You lick your lips and his gaze follows the motion, eyes lowering, freeing you from that uneasy imprisonment he’d abruptly ensnared you in.

Your heart is beating rapidly against your throat and you shake your head, refocusing your bewildering reaction to this guy's presence. “I-I haven’t heard that one before,” you say, taking a few steadying breaths and tossing a dirty glass in the dishwasher, looking for any task that will let you step away from this strange interaction.

“You must be new,” he says, leaning back and hunching those dark shoulders. You watch him out of the corner of your eye and shut the dishwasher door, hitting the button to run a cycle.

“Nope,” you correct him, pulling out two fresh glasses and lining them up on the bartop, reaching for the rail scotch. “I’ve worked here for over a month.”

“Never seen you before.”

“That makes two of us,” you reply, flipping the bottle up and filling both glasses with four counts of the dark liquor. You press one to him and lift the other for yourself. The man narrows his eyes at you and looks pointedly at the glass in your hands.

“You supposed to drink on the clock?”

You laugh and he shifts back at the sound, his head bowing forward, another scowl lifting his lips. Realizing you must have made him uncomfortable, you step toward him and clumsily clink your glass against his, tilting your head at the surrealness of this whole conversation. “They don’t really care what I do. Come on, stranger who has no ID, bottoms up.”

He looks from you to the shot a few times before finally relenting and taking the vessel in a strange four fingered grip, his middle finger arched carefully away. Once you’re sure he’s actually going to toast with you, you sling your shot back, enjoying the sharp burn of the rich liquor.

You’re about to ask your new drinking companion another question when you hear his chair scrape back. By the time you’re stepping toward him, he’s already pacing down a back hallway, blending into the darkness and disappearing from your sight.

“Um! You can’t...I don’t think you can go back there. And you gotta pay, dude! Hey--”

“He doesn’t need to pay.”

You always hear Kurogiri before you see him and today is no exception. He’s standing at the entrance to the back of the bartop and he’s watching the path the strange young man took, his shifting face turned from you. You cock your head at his assertion and swiftly place your empty glass into the soapy water of the filled sink. He likely saw you take the shot, but you’re not about to leave evidence behind.

“What do you mean?” You ask, watching as the wisp like man turns and steps toward you, his amber slits watchful. It’s like he’s sizing you up and you shift on your feet, uncomfortable at the frank, open, assessment.

“He’s Tomura Shigaraki, and he owns this bar.”

******

You’re off for the next two days and the wait, the silence, is abjectly harrowing. You can’t sit down, can’t relax, can’t focus. The one time you decide to get overly familiar, of fucking course, it would be with the owner. But no one has called, and no one has sent you any messages. The empty static of your job's reticence doesn’t alleviate your nerves.

Who knows, they might want to act out the sick power play of having you show up for your shift, only be fired as soon as you darken the doorway.

The next afternoon, you take a familiar route to the bar, your feet tapping hollowly along the steps and alleyways that wind to the rusty entrance. You come in the front, blinking against the darkness, and lock the door behind you. Everything is quiet. But, in forty minutes, the open sign will switch on and you need to get your bar set up, plus slap on a little bit of makeup. You’re so lost in thought that you’re almost to the long bartop when you spot him.

It’s Tomura Shigaraki. He’s sitting at the same bar stool and his head turns as you approach, those unearthly red eyes lingering over you. It’s a different look, very, very removed from that harsh glare he’d given you the other day. He looks less hostile and more, well, curious.

You give him a cursory nod and pad behind the high counter, taking the final glasses out of the dishwasher and removing the stoppers from all the open liquor bottles. He’s still watching you and you can feel his gaze as it bores into your back, your side, your front. You attempt to ignore him, but the constant threat of those insistent red eyes is beginning to frustrate you. Finally, once you’ve replaced the cash drawer, you lift your gaze to his.

“What is it?” Your voice sounds waspish, but you don’t care.

“Nothing,” he replies, leaning forward and propping his chin on his palm, not breaking that unsettling leer.

“So stop staring at me,” you bristle, unsure why your heart is starting to beat a rapid tattoo against your ribs. You don’t know this guy. Sure, he’s mysterious and almost handsome, in a dark horse kinda way, but there’s no reason for him to give you this odd staredown. You’ve done absolutely nothing to warrant this attention, well, besides drinking on the job, but he could just fire you for that, if it was so troublesome. Either way, he should either speak up, or knock it off.

He smirks at your impudence and murmurs a raspy, “No,” back, his head tilting, waiting for your next move.

“You’re a real charmer, you know that?” You scoff, crossing your arms and jutting your chin defiantly.

“Whatever you say,” he breathes, that smile of his deepening, making his vermillion eyes shine. And, just like that, the two of you wander into a stilted game of give and take.

For the first few days, he makes sure he’s there before you arrive for the last of your afternoon shifts, his dark back already perched over the bartop as you shut the door behind you. Then, when you transition back to the evening shifts, he’s there too, sitting at that familiar perch, his eyes always, always watching, observing. You continue to ignore him and he seems to relish your agitated silence, flashing you dark smirks and quiet laughs.

Finally, two weeks into this stagnated stalemate, you make a point to strike up a real conversation with him. He’s obviously taken aback by your first few questions, his eyes wide and jaw tense, but he plays along.

Over time, the two of you carefully erect a haphazard friendship. And that chair of his? That center barstool? He used to not mind if another person was sitting in it when he arrived late, but recently that’s all changed. Now he guards it ferociously. Snapping and glaring at anyone who is stupid enough to drift into it.

Along with the lingering looks and burgeoning, almost flirty, dialogue you’ve pushed him into, he’s also gotten very demanding of your attention. If you spend too much time talking with another customer, or with Kurogiri, he pouts and darkens until you return, his tense form losing that sharpness. It's almost like he’s got a crush on you, but he’s not sure what to do with the newfound sensation, lost and confounded by your teases and grins.

Most people, you notice, give him a wide berth, but not you. No, you like his keen wit and heated musings. He’s fascinating and you want to see more. And in his flustered confusion, he lets you lean in, blinking and wide eyed at your open, flagrant interest in him.

******

As the weeks drift into summer, things start to change at the bar.

There’s some atypical deposit of power that’s been bestowed upon the place. People you’ve never seen before, begin to frequent the premises, sharing videos and whispered conversations about that man, Chizome Akaguro, better known to the general public as the Hero Killer.

Tomura flits between several, dark moods, clutching his newly injured shoulder and murmuring complaints about hero society, All Might and the Hero Killer. Apparently, there had been an altercation between the two of them and Tomura didn’t hide his ire, his agitation from you. No, he would vent to you, his voice gravel and ash as he snarled his rage.

Then, as if things couldn’t get any stranger, one evening a young girl begins to hang around, pestering you for a soda and prattling on and on about blood. Another new guy slips in a few hours later, his skin marred by thick, ragged burns and staples. He’s quiet, rudely demanding a shot and nursing it in a corner, his bright blue eyes flashing as he stares vacantly out at the crowd by the well.

A quiet man, called Spinner, asks you for a water, and you acquiesce, watching as his green hands wrap around the glass, downing the liquid in a quick gulp. Later, there’s a robust, loud, clearly confused guy, wearing a skin tight black bodysuit loitering by your bartop. He keeps entreating you for a drink, then tells you to buzz off seconds later. Exasperated, you plunk a whole bottle down beside his glass and continue on with your work, ignoring his chatter.

Finally, a man in a white mask and a top hat rounds out the strange posse and the group gathers together, hovering around Tomura, asking questions and listening to his rasping answers.

Thankfully, the rag-tag group leaves soon after closing, all of them shouldering their way back out into the night. You shake your head as the door closes behind them, gathering the collection of dirty glasses they left in their wake. Only Tomura remains, sipping meditatively on his drink, his red eyes foggy and unfocused. You know from experience that it’s not a good time to ask him questions, so you continue with your closing duties, keeping your eyes down.

Something is going on, that much is clear. But, unless you could worm the information out of Tomura, you’d likely never fully know all of the details. Part of you warns that it’s likely dangerous. Many of the people who haunt the bar are low level villains or brokers, not a winning combination if you’re wanting to stay out of the fray, and on the right side of the law.

You finish wiping everything down and return to Tomura, asking him softly if you can wash his empty glass. His eyes lift to yours and the expression that greets you almost makes you want to reach out and cup his cheek. He looks tired, worn thin and so, so needy. You’ve never seen him like this. It almost feels like he’s showing you something he’s never revealed to anyone else, a vulnerability that only you can see. He’s giving you access to a quiet secret that can hang between the two of you, safe in the knowledge that he can trust you with it. That urge to stroke a finger down his roughed brow rises again, but you shove the impulse away, rattled by your sudden, visceral, reaction to him.

To distract yourself, you snatch up his glass, and turn from the intensity of his stare, a slow prickle of gooseflesh trembling along your skin. As you run hot water and soap over the vessel, you feel your heart begin to pound and you chance another peek at Tomura’s quiet form. As usual, he’s watching you, but he looks unfocused again, that broken vulnerability tucked away. You want to ask him if he’s ok, but before you can croak the words out, he pushes his stool back and paces down the dark hallway, leaving you alone and bewildered.

******

A few days later, you ask Kurogiri if you can sneak away for a minute, you need a break. The bar has been packed since nine and you could use a quick breather. It’s the first night Tomura hasn’t stopped by and his absence has bothered you. You missed his grumpy quips and his persistent glances. All this time, you’d thought it was just him that was catching any kind of feelings, but it looks like he’s somehow managed to nag his way into your psyche, too.

You take the back stairs quietly and let yourself out onto the alleyway balcony, climbing the rickety fire escape to the rooftop. You’d found the access to the roof your second week and it’s still your favorite place in the whole bar. On a clear night, you can see all the way to downtown Tokyo. It’s always quiet this high up, tranquil and serene. You brace yourself against the concrete wall and watch the lights of the city glimmer, like distant jewels, in the darkness.

You pull a small joint from your pant pocket and flick your lighter on, setting the edge of the rolling paper alight and taking a slow drag. The inhale fills your lungs with a light pressure and you savor the feeling before blowing a thin line of smoke into the night. You get a few more hits in before you hear the fire escape stairs rattle, signaling that someone is coming your way. You debate dampening your roach, but you don’t want to waste it, so you tuck the smoldering paper in your other hand, maneuvering it out of sight.

The white shine of his hair always gives him away.

Tomura hops over the ledge and his eyes are already lifting, searching for yours as he stands. You arch an eyebrow at his tense stance and you can’t help your giddy smile. “Everything ok?”

“Kurogiri said you were taking a break,” he replies, dipping his long fingers into his pockets and sauntering over to the patch of concrete you’re braced against.

“Yeah,” you confirm, waiting until he’s closer to lift the joint back to your lips, taking a steadying pull and scooting over, so he can fit beside you on the wall. “It’s busy, and I’ve been slinging drinks all night. Just wanted to decompress for a bit.”

Tomura doesn’t reply, but he does slot himself close, the warmth of his broad shoulder radiating against yours. The two of you drift into a companionable silence, and the only sounds that greet you is the quiet hush of traffic below and your inhales and exhales of smoke.

“You got another meeting?” you ask, crossing your arms and pressing minutely closer, enjoying the distant shiver Tomura gifts you.

“No,” he murmurs, his voice low. You think that might be the end of the conversation but he continues a few seconds later, his head tilting toward yours, those red eyes scanning your upturned face. “They’re on a mission. I’m not able to participate. It will need to be like a SIM game. They are the pieces that I’ll move over the board, they’ll act to my battle plan.”

You turn to him, your eyes wide. “So, they’re just...pawns? Little NPC’s that don’t matter?”

Tomura laughs and his teeth gleam in the moonlight and distant shine of the neon lights. “Of course not. Do I look that heartless? No, they’re valuable players and if this goes right, we’ll be able to take on the next level with a decided edge.”

You let that last comment hover, pausing to take another huff, your eyes lowered, brooding over his words. “So, you’re their vanguard leader?”

“Sure,” Tomura nods, “We can’t keep grinding each mission, hoping to pick up any XP these heroes happen to drop. We need to make waves of our own.”

“Oh? Like the Hero Killer?”

“No,” Tomura snarls, his arm tensing beside yours, a hand rising to scritch at his scarred neck agitatedly. “Nothing like him. We’re looking past him. He was too short sighted, so busy following his own code of justice that he didn’t notice he was breeding more heroes, not putting them down.”

“Hmm,” you sigh, thumping your head lightly against the concrete behind you. “That is true. But, you can’t deny he’s brought up some serious divisions. It’s funny, really. It makes me think of this little hero toy I had when I was younger.

It was of an older hero, he prolly died long ago, but I loved that toy when I was a kid. Then, as I got older, it stopped mattering and one day, without me even realizing it, it lost its importance entirely. I wonder if hero society will ever shift to that. With the fractures that have been seen at UA and all over Japan, it could be a matter of time before real change starts to happen. Anyway, I wasn’t meaning to grill you on your, uh, projects. I was--”

“What toy?”

His question nonpluses you and you cock your head, blinking up at his peripheral stare. “Um, I think it was of that fast hero, O’clock. It was my older brothers originally, but he passed it down to me. No idea where it is now. It likely got lost in a move or accidentally left behind.”

Tomura lifts his eyes from yours, his jaw clenching and a slow gulp echoing down his lean throat. You watch the bob of his Adam’s apple, fascinated by the movement. That urge to touch him is back and you have to clench your fingers into your palms to quiet it.

You’re so distracted by your primal reaction to him, that you miss his question and he has to repeat it, his eyes slipping back to yours, the red dark.

“What?” you ask, blinking against the acuteness of his gaze.

“Can I take a hit of that?”

“Of what...oh.” You lift the half smoked joint and chuckle at yourself, pressing the smoldering paper toward him. “Sure. You had one before?”

“Does it matter?” He scoffs, carefully taking the white roach from you and raising it to his chapped lips.

“Go slow,” you warn as he begins to inhale, his eyes drifting to a half mast, concentrating.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he grumbles, pulling a tentative, but heavy, drag into his lungs.

“Fine,” you scoff playfully, “do what you want. But don’t blame me when you’re coughing up a lung.”

He rolls his eyes, but doesn’t heed your advice and, seconds later, he’s clutching at his throat, dropping the joint onto the broken gravel and concrete as he heaves. Instinctively, you thump him on his back and run your palm soothingly over his lean shoulder blades, surprised by the corded muscle that greets you. For a relatively thin guy, he’s certainly packing some strength under that unassuming form of his.

Tomura startles at your touch and he yanks himself away from you, his head ducked, eyes fastening onto yours, the irises accusatory and bright, burning with some underlying emotion that you’re too nervous to name right now.

“Uh,” you begin, aghast that you’ve upset him, “m-my bad…”

But, he’s already leaving, his head firmly turned from you, clambering over the edge and back onto the fire escape, leaving you alone in the darkness.

******

After that night, you can’t slip him out of your mind. Even when you sleep, you can see those red eyes of his, gleaming and hungry. One evening, you’d even woken with your fingers firmly pressed to your throbbing clit, stumbling and gasping, shaking free of a dream of him. He’d felt so real, so in focus and you can’t catch your breath, fingers still rubbing a tight circle over your quivering bundle of nerves. You pant as you break yourself, sukling in the whites and reds that haze over your vision. Yeah, that crush of his definitely isn’t a one sided thing.

The next shift you work, he’s waiting for you, perched in his familiar seat, his shoulders curved and tight. You give him a glance, but he doesn’t meet your eyes. His hands are lowered, fiddling with something under the bartop. You begin to open your bar, trying to quiet your wandering thoughts, not wanting to perturb him again. You’re uncorking a red wine when he presses something across the mahogany wood of the bar, toward you.

It’s small, with dark colors and a tiny, familiar, upper half mask. You let the bottle of wine thud against the counter, abandoning the half opened bottle to move closer. It’s...it’s your-- No. It can’t be yours, but it is the same toy, the one you’d mentioned on the roof the other night. How did he?

You gulp and look up at him, your heart pulsing wildly against your ribs. For the first time, he looks away from you first, his white hair pillowing across his brow. His lips start to rise in an all too habitual scowl and his raspy voice lifts to your ears. “If you don’t want it,” he grouses, one hand pulling away from the offered toy, clearly flustered by your wondering gaze. Without thinking, you slip your fingertips over the top of his hand, prolonging the touch, sulking in the warmth of him.

His fingers curl, some unconscious tremor racing along his digits. He almost yanks himself away, but then he stops, sighing as his eyes lift to yours. For a long moment, the two of you watch the other. You can hear his breathing speed up and you can almost smell the shift in the air. All it would take is one, tiny push to break that delicious tension.

Tomura’s nostrils flare as you start to lean closer, your body curving toward his, fingers still pressing into his skin. Your tongue dips out, wetting your lower lip and pulling it into your mouth, sucking on the plush flesh. His eyelids have lowered and he’s mirroring your motions, his elbows assisting his lift, his face upturning, seeking, reaching.

With a bang, the front door is flung open and it breaks the spell that’s fallen over the two of you. Tomura leans away first, his eyes narrowed in agitation, sliding from your open face to the darkness of the entryway. You exhale a shaking breath and follow Tomura’s gaze. It’s that masked man, the one with the top hat and he’s already striding confidently forward, peppering Tomura with a series of questions.

Snagging up his gift to you, you walk back to your bottle of wine.

******

You don’t have a chance to see Tomura again until he tells you, one evening, that the bar is going to be closed for the next few days. Then, over his shoulder, you spot the blonde boy, strapped and bound into a stiff chair and you blanch, stunned, too overwrought to give him more than a one word acknowledgement before stumbling back outside. In all of your talks, he’d never mentioned anything like this. That boy looked like a kid, barely past middle school, his eyes wild and defiant, but also so, so frightened.

No, you think, pacing your apartment, it’s impossible to come to terms with this. You can’t stay there, can’t work there. It’s too dangerous, too close to a real criminal den for comfort. You have to look out for yourself, no matter your feelings for the man who’s wandering down some long, lost pathway, toward a future you can’t even comprehend, let alone see.

So, you hand in your written resignation.

Kurogiri is behind the bar when you bring it in, and you’re hoping that the early morning conversation will spare you from having to see him. The wispy, purple hand of Kurogiri is just about to take your letter when Tomura barges down the hallway. His eyes immediately land on you and he steps forward, a dark look passing over his palled features.

“Why?” he growls, fingers snatching the paper from Kurogiri and crumbling the parchment to bits, his quirk rendering your typed words to nothingness.

“I don’t want to be a part of any kidnapping. It…” you pause, looking toward Kurogiri and, to your surprise, he nods to Tomura and moves away, leaving the two of you alone in the vacant bar. Tomura is still glaring at you, but he’s waiting for you to finish your thought, his jaw grinding quietly.

“This doesn’t feel like you.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Tomura scoffs, his chin jutting at the assertion.

“This doesn’t change society. This is just some petty attempt to get back at the UA staff. It’s like...It’s like you’re asking for trouble to seek you out. You’re smarter than this. Besides, what are you going to do with him?” you smart, crossing your arms and balling your fingers into your fists.

“What do you know about anything? That kid’s been oppressed by hero society, literally muzzled and bound--”

“As if you’re doing any better! He’s still muzzled and bound, Tomura! He’s just in a different location. This is insanity. Who put you up to doing--”

“That doesn’t matter. This conversation has nothing to do with that. You can’t leave,” Tomura snaps, his head lowering, soft white hair falling over his face. “Give it a few more days.”

“What? I can’t stay if the bar is raided and it’s prolly gonna be if you keep that kid. Besides, that’s not--”

“Just...just give me a few more days. I don’t want to beg you, I shouldn’t fucking need to beg you. It’s not an impossible request (Y/N). Just--”

“Fine,” you sigh, uncrossing your arms and watching him. He looks on edge, haggard and angry. Those emotions aren’t projected at you, you know that. Nevertheless, it doesn’t lessen the danger he’s asking you to stand with him in. But, you can give him a few days and you tell him so, trying to ignore the pattering of your heart when he looks at you and smiles.

******

Then, Kamino happens.

You weren’t there, thank God. But he was, and now, no matter what he’d asked of you, no matter what he’d hoped for, everything shifts apart. Days linger into weeks and you’re trying your best to reason that he’d made it out in one piece. Surely, you would have heard something. The capture of the leader of the League of Villains would have been a morsel that the media would have wanted to crow about, especially after the loss of All Might.

Late one evening, your phone rings.

It’s an unknown, blacked out number, but something tells you to answer, so you pick it up. You almost gasp when you hear that familiar rasp and you listen to what he tells you. You can’t get over how brittle and cracked his voice sounds but you write down the address he gives you. He cloaks his true motivations with a lie. Apparently, he has your last paycheck. Like that even matters to you. Honestly, you’re just glad he’s safe and whole. But, he’s gone to all this effort to build a bridge back to him, so of course you’re going to go.

You check and double check the directions, carefully maneuvering and weaving through bus stops and back streets. Somehow, you make it and find yourself pressing open a dilapidated door and stepping into a small room. Only darkness greets you, even though the bright midday sun is shining outside. The place he’s brought you to is on a dock, on the outskirts of town, close to the salty edge of a bay. You can hear the mournful cries of a seagull as you close the door behind you, sealing yourself inside and blinking into the gloom.

It takes you a minute to catch sight of him.

He’s lingering along the edges but you can make out the glow of his eyes, red and fierce. He looks different. It’s only been a few weeks, but it looks like the weight of years has crushed him under its unfeeling grind in that short amount of time. No, Kamino has changed him, rendering him unhinged and dangerous, drifting along the peripheral of your vision. Still, you haven’t come here to witness him falling to bits at your feet. No, you’d come here with another, darker motive.

Now, to work.

“What happened?” you ask, keeping your back firmly against the door. Watching him move closer, those red shoes of his glinting over the dark wooden floors.

“Sensei is...gone,” he replies, his voice hollow and faint. He’s mentioned his Sensei before and you’d heard the man’s strange voice echoing from that back television, like some distant, terrifying specter. But, you knew he was important to Tomura, more like a father than a teacher. However, you’d seen the news. You knew he was beaten to a pulp and captured, locked away and out of Tomura’s reach. Now, he can’t ask his Sensei for advice or support, not anymore. Even knowing what little you’ve gleaned about the strange man, Tomura must be devastated by his loss.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him, genuine in your sympathy.

Tomura nods and fishes for something in the pocket of his trench coat, lifting a thin slip of paper out and showing it to you. “Here,” he sighs, still not meeting your eyes directly.

“Oh,” you say, moving away from the door and taking a few steps toward him. “You really did ask me here for the check, huh?”

“What else did you want?” he grumbles, his voice regaining a small slice of that familiar rasping. The question lingers and you feel your pulse speed up, your palms itching at your sides. “Or, did you want to scold me again?” Tomura continues disgruntled, and you can see a grimace pass over his face.

“You deserved it,” you confirm, taking another step, only wavering when you’re a few feet from him. “You wouldn’t be in this mess if you hadn't kidnapped that UA student. Now, the kid, and your Sensei are gone and you’re stuck here. Wherever here is”

“Look at you, quite the oracle aren’t you? So, you did come here to berate me.” Tomura snaps, dropping your pay stub to the dusty floor.

“No,” you shake your head, not wanting this to spiral out of your control, not wanting him to simply shut you out, alone on that pier, left with all of your what ifs. “No, I didn’t come here to do that. I-I...it’s just that...well...that wasn’t you. That whole plan...it still doesn’t make sense”

“How the fuck would you know what is, or isn’t, me? You said that that morning, too. I didn’t like it then and I don’t like it now,” Tomura bristles, closing the distance and bowing up to you. You can feel the sheer heat of him radiating against your shirt and you shiver at the sensation. If you lift your hand you could touch him, you think distantly. He’s so close...He’s so...

You gulp, trying to quell your rising emotions. “I guess, I don’t know then.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Fine,” you say, biting your lip.

“Fine,” he repeats, no doubt thinking that will be the end of it, but you’re not finished.

“You’re better than this you know,” you tell him, eyes searching for his, not relenting your glare until he finally meets you halfway, his red eyes flashing.

“Better than what? Better than you? A half baked woman, slumming her way from mid range bar, to mid range bar. Hoping you’ll catch the eye of the right person, someone who can pluck you from all the muck and grime that you lift that pretty little nose of yours at.”

“What?” you breathe, a snarl of your own etching across your face.

“Don’t act like you didn’t know what you were doing. Fucking leading me on like that--”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You thought I’d be your ticket out, or you could wager me later for a better piece, something stronger, someone that could do something for you.” Tomura is seething, his chest bumping against yours, the red of his eyes burning as he glowers at you.

“Tomura- I don’t know what you’re talk--”

“Stop saying that. You stupid, or something? And stop saying my name like that. Like it fucking matters. You could have had anything, you know? But...but you took it all for granted. You had the world...and then it...it’s...it’s just gone.”

He’s not talking about you anymore. Even though he’s growling and spitting rage at you, he’s not talking about you. “Shigaraki,” you begin, trying to see some way to reason with him. To bring him back to you.

“Don’t call me that,” he groans, his head dipping, almost resting against your shoulder. “I haven’t earned...that’s not me.”

“Alright. What am I supposed to call you?” you whisper, overwhelmed and trying to resist that urge to pull him into your arms. You’ve never seen him like this, and you don’t know, you don’t…

“There you go again, acting like you care.” Tomura scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“I do care, you ass,” you bite, turning your head toward him and letting your voice fall beside his ear. He snarls at the assertion and presses impossibly closer, trying his best to put on a show of wavering strength, knowing you might still be bullied into backing down, into denying him. But it’s not working, no you’ve come this far and you don’t want to leave him, not like this.

“I care,” you repeat, still murmuring next to his cheek, so near you can hear, and feel, his ragged breaths, hot against your skin.

“About what?” he grunts, moving his head from you, determined to not let you win.

“About, well, you.”

“Liar,” he spits, but his voice wavers, showing you a tiny, tiny sliver of hope.

“Am not,” you counter and watch as he leans back, those vermillion eyes searching for yours. One of his hands lifts and he ghosts the digits over the top of your shoulder, watching as you shift toward the distant touch, pulled to him, like a magnet.

“Such a liar,” he posits, fingers hovering beside your neck, twitching with want.

“No, I’m not,” you gasp, your voice so faint, you’re worried he might not hear it. But he does and he dips his head toward you, inches from your face, lips already parted and waiting.

“Prove it,” he challenges, his voice deepening, losing that sharpened edge at long last.

So, you shove him.

You’re not sure why that’s your first, instinctive reaction, but it’s too late to question your motives and it sparks a crazed response from the man in front of you, snapping him out of his head and refocusing him.

He fumbles backwards, caught off guard, his red shoes catching as he lumbers, trying to not fall. His eyes flash at you and he instantly rights himself, moving back to you. Through it all, you can hear yourself saying something. It sounds like it might have been another taunt, but you can’t focus, not when he’s pressing himself against you, his fingers finally, finally touching you.

Tomura can’t seem to settle now that he’s gotten ahold of you, his fingers tracing over your neck, your shoulders, your face, your sides. He’s panting and gasping, his fevered exhales fanning over your prickling skin.

“Get off me,” you moan, batting at his wandering hands.

“No,” he sighs, cupping your jaw and dragging you to his shaking lips. His kiss is clumsy, almost childlike. He lifts and leans, pressing halting smacks against you, grunting when you twist from him, fighting his hold.

“You don’t deserve it,” you tell him, wanting to lance that boil that’s festering in his mind, knowing he needs the pain before he can handle the sweetness of the pleasure. The last thing he needs is love. No, not right now. Hopefully, there will be time for that later. But for now, he needs something raw and shattered, something that will let him see that it’s not impossible to pick up the pieces, that he can be whole again, he just needs to try.

He drags his rough lips over yours and you lower your fingers into his snowy hair, pulling him closer, demanding that he give you more. He gasps at the sudden shift and you slip your tongue into his mouth, tangling it with his and yanking stammering moans from him. Your lips are slick now and you use the extra lubrication to slip down his neck, leaving him trembling above you.

You dip into each and every scar, laving over all those old hurts until he’s snarling. You leave a bruising bite against his pulse and he snatches your face between his palms, dragging you back to his lips.

“Stop squirming,” he complains, his forehead bumping against yours, trying to keep up with your rapid fire laps and sucks.

“No,” you laugh, fingers lacing into the lapels of his trench coat and using the leverage to drag your breasts over his hardened pectorals. He grunts at the sensation, one arm wrapping around your lower back, pinning you to him. When he finally manages to work his way free of your frantic presses, he lowers his lips to your neck, mimicking the same path you’d taken with him, his teeth nipping and pulling until your humming, giving him a thin cry of encouragement that spurs him on.

Tomura drags a canine over your pulse and you shiver, folding into his crumpled embrace. He’s almost having to hold you upright and he growls when you slip from his arms, annoyed you’re making this so fucking difficult.

“I said, keep still,” he reminds you, heaving you back up, lean forearms bracing you to him. You smile and lace your arms around his neck, wanting his lips again. He allows the pull, loving the contrast of your plush skin against his. He’s a fast learner and this time, it’s his tongue taps and maneuvers for entrance, swallowing down your needy pants. His nose presses into your cheek and you cup at his jaw, stroking the warm skin until he slows his frantic pace, meeting you halfway, and lingering in your wet softness.

Then, just as he’s getting comfortable, you dig your teeth into his lower lip, pulling until you bleed out a little taste of copper. He snarls and shoves you away, lifting the side of his hand to his injured mouth.

“What was that for?” He snaps, tapping his fingers against the wound, watching as they come back red. “The fuck is wrong with…” His ire stutters to a halt when he catches sight of you.

You’ve already slipped your shirt over your head and now your fingers are twisting until you unclasp your bra, sliding the lace down your arms. The cool air makes your nipples tighten but you don’t attempt to cover yourself from him. Instead, you arch an eyebrow at his abashed expression and begin to unbutton your pants, your fingers teasingly lingering over the button and zipper, before lowering the denim down the curve of your hips.

You don’t even hear him approach. No, you’re too distracted by your little show to notice him until you feel those warm fingers tracing over the newly bared swells of your skin. You lift your head and your eyes catch his, smiling at the hazy hunger that’s blazing out at you. His touch is tentative and you roll your eyes openly at him, lifting your own hands over his, pressing him until he’s digging those four digits into your sumptuous flesh.

His thumb rubs over your pebbled nipple and you reward him with a low moan, your eyes slipping behind your heavy eyelids. He cups at your other breast and lifts the weight of you into his palm, openly marveling at the feel of you. Still, it’s not enough and if you’re going to get your point across, you need him to give you more than these lazy strokes.

“Take off your jacket,” you tell him, stepping away from him, quaking minutely in the loss of his warmth.

“What?” he asks, clearly too overwrought to hear you. So, you help him along. Your fingers snatch the shoulders of his trench and you yank it off him, tossing the fabric down to the gritty floors. Then, you shove at him again. He isn’t as taken aback this time and he rallies immediately, snatching at you and dragging you against him, making you gasp at the harsh sensation of his dark clothes against your bare front.

“What do you want?” you ask him, licking your tongue along the underside of his jaw, listening to his shuddering breaths. “What do you want to do to me, Tomura? Come on, I know you’ve got some idea. Fucking show me. Don’t let me boss you around, unless that’s what you’re wanting today to be about. I can take those reigns from you. I’m better at this after all. Less...flustered,” you pause, sucking and nipping at his neck, enjoying the indecisive flex of his fingers on your upper arms.

He allows you one more bite and then he’s tossing you down, not caring where you land. Thankfully, you sprawl over his discarded jacket, the fabric sparing you from the neglected wooden floor. You’re trying to regain your bearings when you hear his belt clatter to the floor. You look up at him, watching as he flings that dark shirt away, showing you the lean muscles that you’ve wondered about for so long. God, for someone so lanky, he looks fucking good.

Tomura smirks at your expression and swiftly yanks his pants and boxers away too, revealing something even more mouthwatering. Fuck, fuck, you think, an involuntary gasp leaving your lips. His cock is thick, pulsing and absolutely dripping with his precum. The tip is a lovely pink, curving toward that chiseled stomach of his and damn, you want to suck on it until he’s putty in your hands.

As if he can read your mind, Tomura steps closer, giving himself a few tugs as he peers down on you, imperious and almost perfectly in control. “You want it?” He asks, trying to hide that sudden shift in his voice, wanting to show you that he understands what you’re expecting from him. You nod and bite your lip, looking up at him from feathery eyelashes.

“Come here,” he requests, slowing those pulls and letting his precum slip from his fist to the floor, tempting you with those tiny droplets of arousal. Obediently, you rise to your knees, fingers tracing up his thighs, smiling at the light buckling he gives you, his calves twitching and shaking.

You tease your way to the apex of his hips and pause, lingering along that dip of his stomach. “Can I taste you?” you question coquettishly and you adore the moan that falls from his lips.

Taking that as a yes, you slowly lower your mouth to him, ghosting the tip of him over you. Rubbing him back and forth, painting that thick precum over your lips until they’re glistening. Tiring of this little game, his fingers dip into your hair and he grips you, hard. With one pull, he’s burying that velvet heat of his length past the ring of your lips and into the sweet cavern of your mouth. His cock swells and throbs as you lap ravenous at the hefty weight of him.

He’s salty and earthy and you let your tongue swirl over his slit, lapping into that leaking gap until he’s murmuring nonsense over you. He’s almost too big for you to take, so one of your hands lifts and wraps around his base, easing your sucks and ensuring that none of him is left out of this gift of mind numbing ecstasy you’re bestowing upon him.

There are several veins, racing along the side of his cock and you tickle along each of them, pressing until you can feel the beat of his heart, frantic and fluttering. Soon, he begins to silently ask you for more, rutting his hips against your face, scraping himself along the back of your throat. When you heave around him he lets out a loud, elongated moan and digs in again, lingering until you’re nearly choking.

You chance a peek up at him and are surprised to see him gazing right back, those red eyes of his clouded and muddled. His hand keeps an insistent pressure against the back of your head, demanding that you keep going. So, you pick up the pace, lapping and sucking, hollowing your cheeks until a thin line of your drool begins to trickle along your chin, dripping onto your knees.

“Can...can I…” he begins, fingers starting to tremble, his knees buckling. No, that’s not what you want from him. You shake free of his hand, letting him slip from your mouth, and he stammers and sputters at the loss, his eyes narrowed and dark, glaring at you with a raw frustration.

“No,” you tell him, keeping one hand on him, stroking him, maintaining that steady pressure until he’s grunting, his hips instinctively canting into the tantalizing motion. “No, you don’t ask me for anything. Yeah, I can finish you off, if you need me to take control, but it’s not going to be on your terms. If you’re wanting something Tomura, you better fucking take it. Stop asking me for permission. I’m not-- mmph--”

He rips your hand off of his dick and his fingers curl beside your ears, forcing your mouth back, and impaling you on his length, immediately gagging you on his heady thrusts. You inhale sharply, your breath catching, failing as he keeps railing into you. More saliva slides out of your lips and you falter, a weak whimper echoing around him.

“Mmm,” he growls, holding your face as he presses against the back of your throat loving the clenching and mewls you give him. “That feels fucking good, (Y/N). Taking all of my cock, ah- fucking choking on it. You’re so fucking greedy. Don’t worry, I’ll give you more. Let’s see, what would make this even better, oh, I know. Saw it in a porn once. Put your hands behind your back and don’t move them unless I tell you to.”

Immediately, you clasp your fingers together, letting them rest against your lower back. The suspension knocks you off kilter, but Tomura braces your head with his other hand, pinning you between his palms. His dick is still lancing in and out of your mouth, scraping against your tonsils, making you swallow and open, trying to push yourself past that oppressive gagging sensation.

“Ahhh, such a good girl, now spread your legs and lift up, just a little bit, yes- right there. Better keep those hands still,” he taunts, pulling his cock out until it hangs against your lower lip, glimmering with the sheen of your ministrations. Then, he dives back in, thrusting and grinding until his balls are papping against your soaking chin. Your legs tremble as you hold yourself up and you can feel your own arousal, slipping down your inner thighs, splattering onto that dark trench coat of his.

You’re heaving under him, grunting and slobbering trying to not fucking choke on the girth that’s being pistoned into you. He’s gasping praise at you, his white head thrown back, and his lower abdomen is rippling, letting you know he’s so, so close to spilling down your abused throat. He bows over you as he cums, spewing thick ropes of his release into you. You gulp at him, determined to let every last drop slither down your waiting throat, longing to savor everything that he’s giving you.

True to your promise, you keep your hands clasped and you nearly topple over when he tugs free of your lips. Tomura takes pity on your wilted form and lowers himself to his knees, wrapping one hand around you and tapping twice on your shaking digits, letting you know you can relax your grip. You fall forward, and he waits above you, watching you with a mounting fascination. Once you catch your breath, you look up at him, not caring that you’re still covered in a mix of tears, spit and his cum. He smirks at your dishevelment, pleased by your open display of your wanton lust for him.

“See? It’s not hard to take what you want, to do what you want,” you pant, still trying to gulp down a few more rough intakes of air.

Tomura sucks his teeth at your bravado, but you notice he’s having a little bit of trouble steading his own breathing and his hands are twitching as they reach for you. You hum when he cups at your dips and curves, lingering over spots that make you moan for him. As he plucks at one of your puckered nipples his eyes lift to yours and he leans close, pressing a wet line of kisses against your collarbone.

“Lay back,” he rumbles, still sucking at the hollow of your throat. You do as he says, propping yourself on your elbows, curious and waiting. He’s slowed down now that he’s slaked that first brush of pent up aggression, but he’s still got a little more to burn. You can see it, lingering behind his vermillion eyes, gleaming under the carnal intrigue.

His fingers, so dangerous and deadly, race down your sides, falling to the juncture of your legs and dipping into the slick that he finds. He parts your folds, bracing himself over you, his lips sucking bruises into your skin. The gossamer threads of your leaking cunt run down his fingers and onto his open palm and he groans into your neck, nuzzling his nose to your skin and inhaling, deeply.

“Does that feel good?” He asks, his voice scraping, like sandpaper, hoarse and undone along your heated cheek. Ok, you think, arching as he dips one digit into you, you can let him have that one question, especially when your mind is fogging over like this, unable to think of anything but that ache that’s pounding through your core. You roll your hips again, urging that finger to slip further and he hisses as you pull him in, your walls trembling at the intrusion.

“Fuck,” he grunts, lifting himself to look down at you, his eyes wide with an awed marvel. “You’re so…”

“Mmm, so what?” you ask, wanting him to keep talking to you, loving rasp of his tone as it tells you such sinful things.

“So soft and warm and...God...so wet,” he replies, adding another finger, watching as you whine for him, your lower lips parting and welcoming him. He pumps the digits, in and out, at a steady rate, waiting for each quiver and ripple, trying to feel his way along, wanting to please you.

“Can--” he stops himself, flushing as your eyes open and snap to his, a rough displeasure written over your face. He tears his gaze from yours and scowls, letting his fingers press a rougher rhythm into you, sucking his teeth at his unspoken inexperience.

“This feels good,” you reassure him, not wanting to completely leave him adrift, knowing that he does need a little piece of guidance, for this part, at least. “Why don’t you get a closer look?”

Tomura looks back to you and nods before sliding down your body, lowering himself until he’s face to face with his prize. His mouth drops and he licks at his chapped lips, painting a few, warm, exhales against your sensitive folds. You squirm at the sensation and he grins, leaning closer, his free hand spreading you for his inspection.

“Is this…” his voice trails off and you can feel him wandering his way to just the right spot. When he lifts the fleshy hood of your clit and thumbs the distended pearl you gasp and shiver, your head falling back against his jacket, thumping against the floor.

He laughs and you can feel him getting ready to swipe at you again, his thumb already slippery and near, the heat of it radiating against that sensitive bundle. “You like that,” he crows, repeating the motion until you’re writhing. “But—” he ponders, moving so his lips are pressed against you, resting on those sopping folds, waiting for you to look up at him. Once your head lifts and your eyes meet his, he lowers his mouth, sliding his tongue over you.

“Oh,” you whisper, your hands automatically lifting and curling into his hair, threading the white tendrils along your palms. His tongue is rough and bumpy as it glides along, pausing to lap at some of your arousal. He smacks his lips at the taste, savoring the flavor before voraciously pressing back into you for more. When he pauses his explorations to give your clit a soft suck, you can’t help but flail, your back bowing and thighs tightening around his head.

Tomura grunts at the rough treatment, prying your legs apart but not letting up on that suction, pleased he’s found something that makes you tremble to pieces in his hands. He’s always liked working you up, so it makes sense that, in this instance, he’s no different.

His long digits are scraping into you, dragging along your quivering walls and spreading your cunt apart, leaking your arousal all over his jacket and onto his chin. He’s not satisfied yet, you’re not satisfied yet, so he keeps going, listening and watching, catching on to what makes you cry out his name, learning and adapting at an alarming speed.

“T-Tomura,” you keen, your hips lifting, grinding yourself against his face, begging him to not stop. You feel a smirk lift his lips and his tongue begins to circle and lick over your clit, maintaining a steady pressure. Meanwhile, his fingers have latched onto something delicate and spongy within your pussy, repeating an arched gesture, curling and uncurling as they stroke your budding flames higher.

“So good…” you murmur, hardly able to form the words as you feel that all encompassing tingle race along your bloodstream. “You’re doing so f-fucking good.”

In response, he begins to suckle on your clit, lightly tracing a canine over the pulsing bundle and that’s all that it takes. Your head dips back, pressing into the floor so hard that your neck arches with your back and your legs wrap around him, holding him to you as you quiver and shake under him. You can feel your heartbeat as you return to yourself, thumping a rapid beat over your breastbone and radiating out to your fingers and toes.

Tomura, for his part, hadn’t stopped lapping at you, his tongue replacing his fingers as he pushes the wet appendage into you, soaking up each wave of your release. Even when you’d dropped your death grip, your legs and arms flopping away from him, boneless and shaking, he’d kept on. After a few minutes of this, his lips suddenly feel a little too ragged, the chapped skin scratching against your sensitive, overstimulated, flushed lower lips. You do your best to wriggle away, but he stills your movements, not quite finished.

“Ah- that...it’s starting to hurt,” you grouse, pushing a hand against his bowed head. That declaration seems to get through and, finally placated, he gives you one last lick and lifts his head, his eyes glinting down on you, dark and mischievous.

“I want to fuck you,” he tells you, wiping a hand across his mouth, dragging the last of your essence away. You tilt your head and grin up at him. “So fuck me,” you reply, spreading your legs again, making room for his trim hips.

“Not like this,” he qualifies, his eyes hooded as he runs a hand along your leg, enjoying your skin, warm and pliant under his palm.

“Then how?” you ask, a little bewildered by this shift in attitude. Tomura leans up, resting on his haunches, leering at your nakedness, another smirk lifting his lips, arching that scar.

“Stand up,” he instructs.

You pull your legs away and slowly rise to your feet, waiting for him to do the same. Once the two of you are eye level again, he tugs you to him, his lips pulling and nipping at yours. You can’t help but melt into his persistent touch and when he feels you slacken against him, he starts to push you backwards. He walks you slowly, carefully, but once your back touches the cold wall, his caresses become rougher, more insistent.

He’s lifting your chin and his teeth are doing more biting than nipping, pulling at your lips until you’re gasping and swollen. He begins to lift away and you protest the movement, but his hand presses into your chest, shoving you back to the wall. You freeze at the forceful treatment, your eyes opening and fastening onto his. Waiting for his next move.

Tomura’s regained that wild look, his eyes hardening, sharpening like ruby slips of flint as they linger over you. “Turn around and brace your hands against the wall,” he commands and, for an instant, you debate pushing back, challenging his order, but that’s not what you’re here for. No, you’d come here with one thought in mind.

To see if you could show him what choices, what strong inner drive, wholly independent of his Sensei, he did have.

You’d watched that kidnapping debacle and all you could think about was how much better, how much stronger he’d be if he could just get out from under the thumb of that man, that voice on the tv. Even with this informal exercise of your own, Tomura had taken to your carnal lessons like a fish to water. He had always been a natural born leader, someone who cultivated and demanded change, he just needs a chance to try. A chance to prove that he didn’t need to ask permission, to ask questions. No, he only needed to act and he could make his aspirations a reality.

So, you turn, splaying your fingers against the wall and waiting for his next move, tilting your head, wanting to see him. He runs a calloused hand over the plush swell of your ass, kneading the skin and stepping closer. Once his hips are flush with your posterior, he ruts his newly re-hardened cock against you, his ever copious precum aiding his motion, letting him glide between your cheeks, easing into that cleft. You groan and press back, wordlessly asking for him to keep going.

Suddenly, his palm smacks against your ass, stinging the flesh and sending a sharp crack around the barren room. “I said, push out more. How am I supposed to fuck you when you’re plastered to the wall like that?” Tomura questions, his voice deep and guttural. You brace your hands against the peeling wallpaper and jut your ass out, presenting yourself to him, quietly hoping he’ll reward you with another spank. Pleased, Tomura does just that, his other hand lifting and smarting against your other, neglected cheek, imprinting his mark on you, even if it’s only for a brief moment, and his fingers linger on the warmth he’s raised from your skin.

“Good girl,” he groans, taking his cock in his hand and searching for that weeping entrance to your waiting pussy. You aid him as best as you can, arching your hips until he finally, finally slips into you. Tomura lets out a deep sigh as your cunt devours his cock, slicking him into the heat of your rippling channel. “Oh, fuck,” he moans, pressing until his hips are flush with your ass, grinding his bony hipbone into your supple softness.

He gives you a brief second to adjust before he bows his head over your shoulder, panting and grunting. “Hold on,” he gasps, slowly pulling his hips back and then ramming his straining cock back into you. You mewl at the sudden ferocity of his thrusts, your head dipping against the steady weight of the wall.

He offers you no reprieve as he pounds into you, his teeth latching onto your skin, sucking and drooling, losing himself in you. His balls tap against your swelled ass and you moan when he traces one hand around you, his fingers seeking your clit and pinching at the nub.

Your teeth begin to chatter, but he doesn’t let up, maintaining that mind numbing pace, pressing and grinding until you can’t fucking think straight. He’s completely untethered and he slakes out all of those pent up questions, feelings, hurts and wants against you. After a time, he begins to murmur things to you, finally sucking up his loose tongue and resting his chin on the mess he’s left on your skin.

He’s worried he can’t do it.

He’s never been alone, not like this.

Sure, he has the others, he has Kurogiri, but it’s not the fucking same.

He needs to see this through.

He wants to, he has to.

Where do you go, when there’s no one else to turn to?

It’s like a confessional, this rutting he’s doing and it’s bleeding all of those thoughts away, letting them pool against the front of his mind and then, pop, they shift away.

Oh this helps, he thinks, loving how you’re fucking taking him, how much you fucking need him. He can’t let you go. He can’t, he won’t. You’re all he has left. After all this, he can’t lose anything else. No, you were right, he’s gotta start taking things, snatching up pieces until he becomes this unstoppable force, greater than his Sensei, greater than All Might, greater than all of them. Yes, yes, yes, when he has you like this, everything else feels so fucking simple.

He’s slowing, his hips beginning to stutter and press erratically against you. There’s no need to worry about you cumming for him, not when you’ve already broken around him so many times in the last few minutes. No, the second he started panting all of those thoughts against you, you were lost, your cunt gripping him so tightly you were worried it might never let go.

Finally, with one last thrust, Tomura grinds his hips against you, his cock swelling and pulsing as he spills himself into you. The sensation of his cum splashing against your walls hurtles you over that edge one last time and you almost collapse, your legs shaking so badly you can't support your own weight. The only thing that prevents you from falling is Tomura. His arms snake around your waist and he holds you to him, his forehead resting heavily against your shoulder, sticking to your skin.

After a long beat, Tomura pulls himself out of you, grunting at the loss of your warmth and sinks to the floor, dragging you with him. Naked and gasping, the two of you cling to the other, waiting for the world to stop spinning as you come back to yourselves. Tomura recovers first, tugging you to his chest and wrapping himself around you, his chin perched on the familiar slope of your shoulder.

“You didn’t...you didn’t need to do this, but...” Tomura halts, his voice soft as his lips press rough kisses to your skin, silently saying what he really means, what you mean to him.

“That’s not true,” you counter, turning your head toward him. “You deserve to make a choice for yourself. You’re your own boss now. Now all you have to do is act like it. Don’t make those mistakes again. You call the shots, not your Sensei, not anyone else in the League, just you. You’ll have other choices soon, so don’t doubt yourself, it’s not like you.”

He huffs out a laugh and buries his nose in your neck, inhaling your scent as he licks at a rising bruise. “I don’t think you’ll like my next choice,” he rumbles, one hand drifting over your side and cupping the soft mound of your breast.

“That depends on what it is,” you smile, your eyes closing at the tempting touch.

“Mmm, do me a favor,” he begins, nipping at your earlobe. “Get on your knees and open your mouth. You looked so fucking pretty when you were sucking on my cock, I wanna see it, one more time.”

“What?” you question, absolutely incredulous, “again?”

“Do as I say (Y/N),” he replies, rubbing his rising length along your ass.

“God,” you gasp, bucking at the sensation, “what have I done? At this rate, I won’t be able to walk for a week.”

“You’ll like it,” Tomura promises, his voice dark, “I’ll make sure that you do.”

Notes: never have i ever liked that kidnapping bullshit. i guess it lets AFO face off with All Might, but for Tomura’s development? it makes no sense and he’s never done anything like that again, in canon. so, uh, yeah. booo kidnapping scheme.

Tags: @spicy-skull, @xwildskullx, @yixxes, @ghstmthr, @rekoii, @diaouranask, @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love

#asks #answered asks #pal muses #on Tomura’s dick #and his trauma #shigaraki tomura #tomura shigaraki #shigaraki x y/n #shigaraki x you #shigaraki x reader #tomura x reader #tomura x y/n #tomura x you #tenko shimura #shimura tenko #reader insert

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halloweenhoneylover · 4 years

Text

the struggle bus

summary: spencer is the kindest human alive, which makes things tough for the reader :/ (spencer reid x fem!reader)

word count: 5.3k (a doozy kinda!)

warnings: i guess angst, but really just idiots in love (my fav trope). reader is kind of a hot mess. also, mention of overdose via multivitamin.

author’s note: hi, it’s been approx 4000 years since i last posted, but it’s just because i have no concept of ‘efficiency’ or ‘speed.’ but it’s okay. some of this is good, some of this is eh, make of that what you will. also, this is supposed to be #funny sometimes so uhhhh, keep that in mind. ALSO, the title is majorly stupid, but it was the title of the google doc, and i couldn’t think of anything else......anyways, love u!

For once, the bullpen was quiet.

Spencer was immersed in some case file, doing some work that you should have probably been doing as well, but it was approaching the late hours of the night, and you would barely be able to keep your eyes open if you came even close to trying to read or write. Your desks were situated against each other, so you shifted your gaze across the small divider to him. His sharp features were softened in the lamplight, a sight that tugged on your heartstrings, and you took a moment to just look at him. Most everyone else was gone or was too focused on getting their work done to pay attention to your reverie. Derek, if he were here, would dub you as ‘lovesick’ and shoot mischievous smirks and wiggling eyebrows in your direction, but luckily for you, he was not. Twisting carelessly in your chair with your feet propped on the desk, you chewed absentmindedly on a pen, lost deep in thought. “Hey, Spencer?”

“Yeah?” He continued scribbling on the file without so much as a glance towards you, but that was perfectly fine by you, more time for not-creepy staring.

“How many of my vitamins do you think I could eat before I died?”

At this, he furrowed his brow and neatly laid his pen down.

“That depends on what vitamin you’re taking. If you’re talking about iron supplements, the limit is somewhere around 20mg of elemental iron per kilogram of body weight. Any more than that will have incredibly unpleasant side effects like abdominal pain, persistent vomiting, rapid breathing, and coma. However, if you’re talking about Vitamin C, it’s virtually impossible to overdose, but you might get a bad headache if you supersede 2000 mg.”

“Okay, what about my gummy vitamins?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “While it still depends on what vitamins are included, eating a whole bottle of your typical multivitamin could easily result in death.”

You mulled this over. “So, I should definitely not go home and eat the rest of my gummy vitamins tonight?”

Spencer chuckled, “I’m not a medical doctor, but yes, I’d recommend that you don’t do that.”

Tossing your head back and letting out a small groan, you protested, “But Spencer, my gummy vitamins taste so good! And I have no food at home, so I guess I either die by overdose on gummy multivitamins or starvation.”

He couldn’t help but grin at your melodrama. It could be 12:06 in the morning, and you could still somehow make him laugh. He was starting to understand that he was in too deep, but he also had the startling realization that he didn’t mind drowning if it was in you.

“You’ve got quite the predicament on your hands there, (Y/N). Maybe you should go grocery shopping with me the next time I suggest it, so you don’t end up in this situation again.”

“Oh my god, dude!” you moaned. “I told you I was actually busy; I had to take Oscar to the vet for his vaccines! I try to be a good mother to my dog, and you know I’m not an anti-vaxxer. I’d never decline time with my favorite guy without a good reason.”

Spencer’s heart was doing somersaults at the thought of him being your favorite guy. He’d won plenty of awards and medals in his lifetime, but somehow, none of those measured up to the accomplishment of being your favorite. Pride and butterflies boiled in his stomach.

“Alright, fine, I’ll let it slide this time.”

You snorted, “I appreciate your unmatched benevolence, Dr. Reid.” Locking eyes with him, you tried to dampen the lava flow of heat in your chest that erupted when he looked at you with the softest expression you’d ever seen, but you failed miserably. You had to clear your throat and look away; it was becoming all too much. “Hey, I’m gonna run to the restroom. Don’t leave without me!”

As you dashed away, a thought crossed Spencer’s mind, and he stood up and set off down the opposite hallway.

You returned a few minutes later to an empty bullpen which made you frown, and your heart sank. You had thought he was going to wait, but guess not. Sighing, you tried to not let it sting too badly when you noticed a light on in JJ’s office. You knocked and pushed the already ajar door with a quick hello? before being met with an exhausted-looking JJ.

“Hey, (Y/N). I thought everyone had left by now.”

“Nope, not quite yet,” you replied, offering a weak smile. JJ noticed and wrote it off as fatigue. “You didn’t happen to see Spencer leave a couple minutes ago, did you?”

“Uh, no, I thought he’d gone too.”

“Hm, okay, thanks anyway!”

You prepared to leave, but she stopped you, cocking her head. “Why do you ask? Is he still here?”

Leaning your head against the doorframe, you sighed. “I’m not sure. He was here when I went to the bathroom, but he wasn’t at his desk when I came back. I’m a little disappointed. We always walk out together because we’re both afraid of the parking garage at night.”

A grin simmered on JJ’s face at that fact. “Well, I could walk you out if you’d like?”

“Nah, that’s okay; I don’t want to bother you.”

There was something behind JJ’s eyes you couldn’t identify as she replied, “Alright, then. Just let me know if you change your mind.” She definitely wasn’t thinking about how you didn’t want her intruding on a you-and-Spencer tradition. Not that she minded! She’d been rooting for you both since the minute you’d stepped into the BAU, and Spencer had looked like he was about ready to melt into the floor at the sight of such a pretty girl.

“Thanks, Jayje.”

Dragging your feet a little, you made your way back to your desk to gather your things, trying to fend off the disappointment. You had gotten your jacket on and were about to pick up your bag when you heard a (Y/N)! from down the hall. Well, that was certainly not JJ. Hesitantly, you called out, “Spencer?”

He finally emerged with his arms loaded with...something, you couldn’t discern what in the dim light. His face lit up like the Vegas strip when he saw you. “(Y/N)! I didn’t want you starving or eating all of your vitamins, so I went down to the vending machine and got you a couple snacks!” Arriving at his desk, he dropped the various bags and packets on his desk, and your eyes widened immensely.

“A couple? Dude, did you buy out the whole machine?”

Slightly breathless from his quick jog back, he waved a dismissive hand. “It was nothing. And hey, look!” He picked up a bag. “Fruit snacks! Just like your vitamins, but without the part where you get really sick.”

You were astonished, to say the least. And minorly speechless too, as evidenced by your mouth that was gaping like a fish. “Spencer...this is so nice. You really didn’t have to.”

“Don’t worry about it; I’m sure you would’ve done the same for me.”

At that, your face nearly split in two, and he mirrored your grin. You thought you might pass out at his kindness, and you knew you’d be thinking about this every day for the next two weeks at least. Your expression then turned mischievous, as you tried to tamp down all of the warmth bubbling in your stomach. “Do you want to help me try to fit all this in my bag?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

———

Garcia had been practicing her ukulele peacefully when she got the call. (Well, ‘peacefully’ might have been a stretch as she had threatened to smash the object on her coffee table when she simply could not get the finger picking pattern she’d practiced for what seemed like hours, but it was supposed to be a relaxing hobby, so yes, it was peaceful.) Huffing a sigh of relief when the caller ID said [(Y/N/N)!!] with the longest stream of heart emojis and not [hotch >:( ], she picked up with her usual air of cheer. “What can I do ya for, my loveliest, most bewitching—”

She was cut off abruptly by the sounds of your horrible, heart-wrenching sobs, and her brows furrowed in concern. “Oh no, my sweet! What’s wrong?” She had to wait a few moments for your tears to calm (somewhat) while you tried to wrangle in your breath, so you could form some sort of sentence.

“Penny!”—gasp—“Oh my God,”—hiccup—“it looks so bad!” With your last word, you tumbled into incoherent bawling once again.

“Dear, what looks so bad?” She held her phone between her ear and her shoulder as she began to gather up her things. Whatever was wrong, it was clear you needed some good, old-fashioned Garcia TLC, and she was ready to give it.

The sniffling subsided minorly, and you choked out, “Remember when we were talking the other day, and I mentioned that my hair had gotten a little too long for my liking?” Oh no, Garcia could see where this was going. “Well, I figured I’d spend our evening off getting my hair cut, and I went to that new hairdresser, and oh Penelope, it looks awful. I don’t think I can ever go out in public again.” With that, your tears resumed.

“Darling, you know I’ve been where you are, and I know it seems bad right now, but everything will be fine. Let me grab my scissors and I’ll be over faster than you can say, ‘Penny, I love you so much, you truly are my fairy godmother.’”

You paused before whispering into the phone, “Penelope, I do love you so much, and you are my fairy godmother. But please, hurry.”

And hurry, she did.

Garcia was knocking on your door a little over five minutes later, which was incredibly suspicious because she lived at least 10 minutes away on a good day, but in the state of your disarray, you were not inclined to care. She sat you down on the toilet in your bathroom, whipping out her hair care set (she had definitely spent a significant amount of time dabbling in cosmetology, and it was desperate times like this when it came in handy). Squeezing your eyes shut through most of it, she snipped here and there, trying to make the best of this...horribly atrocious cut (seriously, that hairdresser should be sued), and when she was finished, it was not as bad as when they started, but it still wasn’t great. The rest of the evening was spent watching cheesy rom-coms and baking in an attempt to get your mind off of your hair.

Everything was mostly fine until the next morning, when you realized you’d have to go into work like this, and as terrifying as that prospect was in a normal work environment, you also worked in a place with an abnormal amount of hot people. (And you happened to be developing feelings for one of those hot people, but your brain was insistent upon ignoring that for the time being.)

Already anticipating your worries, Penelope had sent a text without your knowledge to a BAU group chat that excluded you (she had one of these for every member, it just made surprise birthday party planning so much easier).

[penelope :)] please DO NOT MENTION (Y/N)’S HAIR!!!! she got a bad haircut and she feels really terrible about it and doesn’t want to think about it so do not talk about it!!!

[jennifer!] Oh, no! :( Lips are sealed!

[rossi ;)] rip.

Emerging from the elevator in the nicest work outfit you own (an attempt to distract from the monstrosity), you scurried to Garcia’s lair before anyone could see you. Once inside, you slammed the door shut, and leaning against it, you slid down and covered your face with the files in your hands. “Pennyyyyy,” you moaned. “I don’t think I can do this!”

She swiveled to face you with a look of empathy. “Sugar, I know you can. It—it doesn’t even look that bad!” But Garcia was a horrible liar, and if looks could kill, she would have been dead instantaneously.

Heaving yourself up off the floor, you came to sit in the seat next to her. “Can’t I just work in here today? And maybe for the rest of time?”

“You know I would love that, but those other lovely people on our team need you! Especially the young doctor, you know he’d be lonely without you.”

As if her mention had summoned him, Reid opened the door to their secret meeting, files in hand, and your eyes nearly jumped out of their sockets. Garcia stared at him very intensely, attempting to telepathically tell him to not mention the hair, and you looked like a deer in the headlights, trying to figure out a way to hide yourself from him and possibly the entire universe. And poor Reid shifted his gaze between the two of you, helplessly confused as to what he had walked into. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Uh, no!” Garcia said in the least convincing manner.

“Okay,” he responded, not convinced in the slightest. “I just came to give you some files from Hotch.” So, he handed Garcia the papers and then turned to leave when you caught his eye.

And because he was not the greatest with technology, Spencer had not checked his phone that morning…. Meaning he had not seen Garcia’s text. So he looked at you a moment and cocked his head. “Your hair looks really nice today, (Y/N). Did you get it cut?”

This time, it was Garcia’s turn to glare (because read your texts, dammit!), and you fumbled for a response. As you scanned his face, searching for a sign that he was lying, that he was just saying something to make you feel better, you came up empty. He was telling the truth. He genuinely thought your hair looked nice. “Um, uh—yeah. Yeah, I did. Thanks for noticing.”

“You’re welcome.” He offered you a smile, which you returned easily (a fact that surprised you). “See you.” Retreating from the office because the vibes in there were weird, he shut the door, finally leaving you and Garcia alone again.

You were reeling.

You thought about when you had gotten dressed that morning, and you had entertained each outfit with great scrutiny, trying to come up with something that might draw attention away from your hair. In that half hour you’d spent, you had realized that you didn’t really mind looking bad in front of Morgan or Emily or Hotch or really anyone on the team. Almost anyone. With an increasing amount of discomfort, you had realized you didn't want to look bad in front of Spencer. Of course, he’d never judge you, but you wanted to look good for him. For your best friend.

And he told you your hair looked nice.

You smiled to yourself.

Garcia turned to you with a look of shock on her face. Had that been anyone else, she was sure you would have curled up in a ball beneath her desk and would not have left until every single other person had left the Federal Bureau of Investigation, but you hadn’t, and she smirked.

Oh, she knew where this was going.

———

To put it lightly, it had not been the best of mornings.

It seemed that everything that could’ve gone wrong did, so you burst past the glass doors of the BAU six minutes late with a coffee-covered shirt, mud-stained pants, soggy shoes, and a most miserable attitude. Hotch, while a sympathetic man, was still your boss with rules to follow and when you stumbled into the bullpen, gave a pointed stare between you and the clock, and you nodded sullenly. You understood his silent admonition, but knowing that he was even slightly disappointed in you, made your knees want to buckle. Swallowing around the slug in your throat, you set your bag down beside your chair and noticed a foreign object sitting on your desk. Interest thoroughly piqued, you reached forward to find it was a book with a satin ribbon tied on it.

It truly was a beautiful book with a deep crimson hardcover and the kind of deckled edges that you loved. Running your fingers along the rough-hewn pages, you finally noted the title, and you gasped. Beloved by Toni Morrison. Your favorite. The cursive words curved in black on the cover to match the ribbon, and you carefully traced the curling letters, wondering where this gorgeous book could have come from.

In the desk across from yours, Spencer watched the scene in front of him with a grin. He couldn’t help but feel pleased at the look of awe on your face as you inspected the book with careful fingers and a gentle gaze, and his heart swelled more and more the longer he looked. “Did you know that Margaret Garner, the woman the character Sethe is based on, her trial was used as part of an effort to dismantle the Fugitive Slave Act?” Your eyes flickered up to meet his, and those stupid freaking butterflies erupted in the pit of your stomach as you realized who had gifted you the book. “The presiding judge didn’t accept her lawyer’s argument that the act violated the right to religious freedom, but it was still somewhat of a turning point in the movement to strike down the law.”

“I did not know that, but thank you. For the fact and the book.”

“You’re welcome.” He had to avert his eyes from your strong gaze because he thought he might melt otherwise.

“Please don’t misinterpret this as me being ungrateful because I’m so, so thankful, but why?”

He shrugged, “I was just in the book store, and it made me think of you.” No, he didn’t keep an eye out specifically for this book on his weekly trip to the bookstore by his apartment after you had briefly mentioned your love of Ms. Morrison’s metaphors. And he definitely didn’t ask the owner Alice if she would let him know if she ever got any new copies.

Frankly, you were at a loss for words. Combing back through your conversations with him, you tried to remember when you had talked about the book, but you couldn’t come up with anything other than a couple words tossed briefly here and there. Suppose it wasn’t really the fact that he had heard, but the fact that he had listened. He listened and remembered things about you, little things tucked in the back of his brain, and it was how he thought about you even when you weren’t around. So, you clutched the book to your chest tightly as if it could meld with your heart and let your thoughts rage with the implications for a minute before smothering your mushy grin and tucking the book into your bag.

(Later, you pulled it out on your ride home on the metro. Spencer had already gotten off at his stop a few minutes before, so you took this moment of solitude to revel in the glory of your new gift. Every time you smoothed a hand over the cover, your mind was overwhelmed with what-ifs. What if he felt the same? What if his stomach rumbled with the same butterflies when you looked at him? What if this means he likes you as more than…. And abruptly, you were doused in doubt once again, muzzling those dangerous, rearing hypotheticals. This was a path that would only lead to disappointment.

Those thoughts only got worse when you read his inscription, though:

Dear (Y/N/N),

I hope you find great joy in reacquainting yourself with the graces of Ms. Morrison’s elegant prose in this new copy. I was inspired by your praise and read this classic again, and I can say that I definitely understand your veneration of her story-telling. Hopefully, we can discuss it soon, so I can try to see all of the details that you so admire. You are always much better at appreciating the finer things in life.

She says that, “something that is loved is never lost.”

I hope you know that you will never be lost to me.

Sincerely,

Spencer

(P.S. I wrote this in pencil, so you can erase and have the clean copy you wanted.)

You would never erase it.)

———

“Hey, are you alright?”

You sat at your desk with your head in your hands. Your responding “no” came out muffled.

Spencer frowned and sat on the edge of your desk. “Is there anything I can help with?”

Running your hands over your face, you finally met his gaze. His eyes were soft as they searched your own, and the expression on his face was not of pity or frustration but empathy, and of course, he was just being his sweet self. Your eyes watered in response, and his heart clenched at the sight. You shifted your eyes somewhere else, anywhere else. “Uh, no.”

It was clearly a lie.

Furrowing his brows at your obfuscation, he scanned your face for any indication of what might be the problem. A small sigh. He came up with nothing. “Alright,” he conceded hesitantly. “May I ask what is wrong?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

You stared down at the files neatly ordered on your desk, trying to mentally shoo him away with the sheer force of your willpower alone. But Spencer Reid was a stubborn man, and you knew this, and you also knew he wasn’t leaving until he knew you were alright. So, you both sat in the silence of the bullpen that only accompanied the arrival of midnight. The glow of your lamp bathed the vicinity in a warm yellow, and the tick of the nearby clock rattled around your chest as you attempted fruitlessly to subdue your incessant thoughts. He was close enough that you could hear the soft susurration of his exhales as his eyes flitted about the room to give you some sort of breathing room, and you shut yours for a moment to appreciate this moment of peace before the inevitable catastrophe to follow.

“I’m—uh, not okay.”

Finally turning back to you with a mildly surprised expression (he didn’t expect you to say anything so soon. Or so bluntly.), he offered you one of his signature tight-lipped smiles as encouragement to continue.

“I’m kind of really struggling…” you trailed off, gaze empty, ensnared in your thoughts.

Ever the gentleman with persistence that could last a thousand years, he gently prompted, “With…?”

A strong gulp and eyes squeezed shut. “With you.”

Well, that was not the answer Spencer was expecting. He felt like he’d had the wind knocked out of him, and he was hollow and shaken and in pain. Gaping, he fumbled hopelessly for an answer, trying to find some reason you could be upset with him. He had always thought you two were the best of friends; he’d never doubted that before. How could he have missed this?

Swallowing hard against the lump in his throat, he strained to ask, “Uh—um, what—what did I do?”

Upon witnessing his struggle, you quickly amended your previous statement. “No, no, no, no, no! I’m not mad at you, well, I kind of am, but you don’t need to feel bad, it’s not your fault.”

“I’m not really sure what to make of that.”

You huffed a sigh and covered your face with your hands in a poor attempt to try to hide the blush rapidly coloring your cheeks. “I’m sorry, I just—you’re so nice!”

Now Spencer was really confused. “You’re mad at me...because you think I’m nice?”

“Yes, Spencer! You’re so nice, and it makes me incredibly frustrated. You see this?” You picked up a book from your desk and waved it frantically. A little intimidated by your crazed look, he nodded timidly. “Do you recognize this book?”

“It’s a special edition of Beloved by Toni Morrison.”

“It’s the special edition of my favorite book that you bought for me because you know how much I love this book.”

Spencer looked like a deer in the headlights. “You always said that your book at home was so messy with your annotations and that a fresh copy would have been nice.”

“You didn’t even buy it for my birthday or a special occasion! You just saw it in the store and said that you thought of me and had to buy it. That’s so unbelievably thoughtful! Not to mention the fact that I can barely look at fruit snacks now without tearing up. And—and the other day! When I got my haircut, I hated it, but I came in the next day, and you were the first person to tell me you liked it. You weren’t even lying to make me feel better; I’m a profiler, and I know that you were telling the truth. And it took no effort or thought because Spencer, you are the most kind-hearted and compassionate and generous person I’ve ever met. You are so—so genuinely good.

“No, you are the best. You are the best person I know,” you stated with finality, holding his stare with an unshakeable firmness. It was the first time you truly looked at him all night, and his heart felt like it was going to expand past his ribcage and burst open like a balloon. Your resolve melted though and your voice dropped to a near whisper. “And you’re not just nice. You’re nice to me. Which just makes it so hard.”

You deflated, withering into your seat.

“Makes what hard?”

“It makes it so much harder for me to not fall in love with you.”

Stunned silence.

Until it was shattered by a hiccup, and Spencer finally noticed the tears leaking from the corner of your eyes, and he tried, he tried so hard to puzzle through all of this new information and the fact that you just admitted you’re falling in love with him, and for some reason, you’re crying? He couldn’t even get his stupid genius brain to come with a single word before you started stumbling into an apology. “I know that’s not what you want to hear because we’re supposed to be friends, and I know that you’re just a good person, so you’re nice to everyone. Believe me, I know. And I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable, but I couldn’t keep holding on to this by myself, and I knew if anyone would let me down easy, it’d be you.” You chewed on your lip and avoided his stare at all costs. “So, I’m sorry.” You sniffled.

The quiet that followed weighed heavy on your chest, and you couldn’t seem to breathe. You had expected rejection; you hadn’t expected complete silence. And this was somehow so much more unbearable. In a voice so faint you weren’t even sure if he could hear, you begged, “Please say something.”

A beat.

“(Y/N), I love you.”

A whisper just barely verging on hopeful, “What?”

“(Y/N), I—I love you so much.” His heart felt like it was in his throat, and his voice broke slightly as he stood. “You’re the first person I think about when I get up in the morning, and you’re the last person before I fall asleep. I dread going home at the end of the day because you’re not there. When you’re not with me, even if you’re in the other room, it feels like I’ve forgotten something, and for the longest time, I couldn’t figure out what I was missing, but it was you. You consume my every thought, which is saying something because I think a lot. Actually, it’s kind of funny,” he chuckled somewhat morosely, “I truly cannot comprehend the fact that you don’t know how much I’ve liked you, how long I’ve loved you because it feels like it’s so obvious and so potent that it seeps out of me, whether I want it to or not.

“And I’m nice to you because no one else is more deserving of kindness. I’d be lucky if you let me be the one to remind you of that, everyday. Because you’re the best person I know.” You looked up at him with shining eyes and the meagerest beginnings of a smile, and he just beamed right back. With a creased brow, he ventured, “You’re my favorite person in the world, you know that, right?

Failing to suppress your growing grin, you nodded your head meekly. “Yeah, I know.”

“Good.”

Spencer felt pleased with himself until he remembered that he had forgotten the most important part. “Would you like to get dinner with me sometime? Like a date?”

Standing from your seat, you wrapped your arms around his neck and burrowed your face into his chest, and he immediately reciprocated, clutching you as close as he could. “I would love that.” It came out muffled, but he understood well enough as he pressed his face into your neck. And you stood like that for a few moments, just existing together, and for the first time in a long time, nothing hurt. There was no worry of unrequited yearning or pain of terrible pining; there were just two people who finally knew peace. Knew that the person they loved most in the world loved them back. Neither ever wanted to leave.

However, sometimes necessary duties like breathing take precedence, so you pulled back from him enough to finally claim some air. Your hands slid down his front, resting on his chest, his on your waist, and you just stared at him. The most beautiful face you’d ever seen looking right back at you with the same expression of awe that made you realize just how lucky you were. And slowly, hesitantly, you both leaned in ever so slightly with heads wavering and tension buzzing. Gingerly and sweetly. Neither could commit, but no one could pull away from fast-approaching revelation.

Finally, a breath away.

“Can I kiss you?”

You nodded.

When your lips met, your chest heaved with your eager, romantic hopes and dreams bubbling up near your lungs, finally coming to fruition. His hands came up to caress your jaw, and you leaned into him. His touch was so gentle, but he also touched you with intention. For once in his life, Spencer Reid felt no hesitation, kissing the girl of his dreams. And you felt held by him. You were bursting at the seams of your existence, swollen with infatuation and tenderness, yet totally and completely encompassed by him. You could shatter into a million tiny, little pieces, and he would be there to collect every shard. How cheesy.

Both of you grinned into the kiss; the sickly sweet itch in your heart was contagious. You finally released him, and wanting to savor the moment, you tucked yourself into the crook of his neck, so his chin could rest on the crown of your head. “I love you a lot, Dr. Reid.”

He hummed in agreement.

It didn’t need saying.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #i hope yall see that the sentences that are syntactically similar and the parallel settings are intentional and are like stupid attempts at #motifs and that im not a stupid person :/#also #lol wtf was that ending #anyways #yo this may or may not be based on problems i be having irl #i just fall in love with anyone who is remotely kind to me #lmao #anyone else desperate for affection?? gang??#also r there any toni stans out there i luv my queen #is anyone out there? i just want friends ahh #ALSO DOES ANYONE ELSE HAVE THE OVERWHELMING URGE TO DEVOUR THEIR GUMMY VITAMINS????? IS THAT JUST ME????

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psychewithwings · 3 years

Text

Bitter Taste: Iwaizumi x f/reader Pt. 1

pt. 2 here

THIS IS SO LATE and I’m a fuck up hahahaha (kinda ironic this was 2 weeks late for Mental Health Awareness month)

I am crediting my girl @kuso-deku for giving me Iwaizumi brain rot to begin with. I am also crediting @gixxie and @idonotagreebitch for helping me talk through my ideas... and crediting @doinmybesthere for the wonderful idea of a mental health awareness collaboration the link is here. PLS READ THE REST OF THE WORKS. Everyone deserves the love.

TW: manipulative male/female relationships, gaslighting?, subtle shit head crap that most men do (don’t worry Iwa is a peach as always tho, it’s Ushijima that’s the problem)

Iwaizumi stands and stretches in the cinema. The movie had been good, but long, he figured it was a little after midnight. “What’d ya think?” Kuroo asks as they exit the theatre. “I hated the ending…” Oikawa gripes, “I hate endings where everyone just dies.” “You are such a princess Tooru, I swear, it’s a metaphorical ending… did you not catch all the symbolism in the opening credits?” Iwaizumi sighs and turns his phone back on, trying his best to ignore their bickering. Slowly, notification after notification pops up… all from you. He blinks, surprised. You had declined his offer to join him for the film, stating you had previous plans attending a close friend’s birthday.

Iwa opens the messages from you. He sees first the selfies. You look beautiful, extravagant even. Your dress is beautiful, it compliments your figure perfectly with the corseted bodice. It’s white and so is your lace mask. Broad, feathered angel wings rest on your back. Angelic would have been a word he’d used to describe you before, but now, it was confirmed. He wants to keep staring at the photos but Kuroo and Oikawa are starting to become too curious about the contents of his phone. He scrolls and relaxes his face to look more casual. But it’s hard when your intoxicated messages are so darn cute.

hope the movie is good!

okay so I guess there’s an open bar? Is it my birthday too?

if you wanna come by after the movie I’msure you coul

this partyyyy suckssssssss assssssssss

wish id gon wiht u xx

You are clearly drunk and he laughs to himself before Kuroo peers over his right shoulder. “Well she’s thinking about you at least,” he smirks. Oikawa peers over Iwaizumi’s left shoulder, “ooo play the voice message.” Oikawa taps the message before Iwaizumi can give him an answer.

“Hiiiii Iwaaaaaa, hope you like the moovie and you’re having a good time, cuz I’m having a preetyy good time, they gots free margaritaaass. Okay byeeeee”

The guys laugh and Oikawa presses the next one.

“Hey Iwaaa, I made up a song about you, ready?

Iwaizumi

Doesn’t know what he does- to me…

Sshfhsijknfhahaha I cant remember the rest som’n bout… som’n I dunno. Byeee”

“Okay, Ushi says that I need to say sorry for sending so many…” you pause and then whisper, “drunk messages, but I’as only tellin’ ya I ssink ‘r awesome ‘n you should totally come to this party and hang out with me… you’re awesome, okay byeee”

Oikawa and Kuroo pause and look at Iwaizumi. “Ushi?” Oikawa asks, “like Ushiwaka?” Oikawa’s eyes are narrowed and he gags dramatically in disgust. Iwaizumi nods and walks to exit the theatre. “Wait… that’s her friend who’s having the birthday party?” Iwa grimaces as Kuroo chuckles. “No wonder you’ve had a stick up your ass all night.” Iwa glares at him, “they’re just friends… apparently… I don’t know, she said they’ve known each other for a really long time…” Kuroo claps Iwaizumi on the back. “I think you should definitely go to the party.” Iwaizumi starts to object but the ring of his phone draws attention, and he answers it. “Heyyy you're outta th’moviee, heheeheheha,” you slur. Iwaizumi laughs softly and smiles, “yeah, I’m out of the movie now, are you… good?” There is so much background noise, it almost drowns out your sweet sleepy voice. “I’m soooo good… … I just-” he can hear your voice drop to a drunken whisper. “I’z just hoping to see you today,” you mumble finally.

Iwaizumi can feel his heartbeat quicken, his head reeling. “Oh really?” He plays cool but then instantly regrets it when you give him a serious answer. “Yeah, I was really hoping you’d come to the party, even for just a little,” you murmur. Iwaizumi can’t help but chuckle. You were pretty cute like this, not normally so transparent. You were actually quite hard to read, so sweet but guarded and teasing too. You were a friend of Oikawa’s first and he had met you through him. He’d liked the way you sat cross legged on the couch smiling, chin in your hands while you asked questions and listened to his answers. Your eyes sparkle when you hear something you like, and your face lights up when you talk about things you find interesting.

“Ya don’t have to, I can just see ya another time,” you add. He’s been silent too long which causes him to speak without thinking. “No, I’d love to see you, I’ll head to you now.” Kuroo and Oikawa are silently cheering him on and Iwa turns away in embarrassment. “Really? Okay! I’ll drop my pin… as the kids are sayin’ these days hahaha.” “See you soon, drink some water okay?” “Mhm, I will, see ya soon!”

You were at a club owned by Ushijima’s family. A place called ‘Eagle’s Nest’. He’d only known you for a few weeks but he couldn’t help his infatuation. It was immediate, the night he had gone to Oikawas for game night. You spoke to him so easily not knowing him at all and laughed at his little side jabs to his long time friend. The way you looked at him… Iwa knew then that he wanted to see you smile, hear your laugh, and that he would be happy to assume the responsibility of making that happen.

He was surprised when you had declined his offer for the movie, feeling that you both had some definite chemistry, but Iwaizumi was even more surprised when you had said that you had prior plans with his old time rival Ushijima Wakatoshi. Iwaizumi hadn’t seen him since high school but they knew a few people in common, Oikawa being one of those people. Oikawa could sure hold a grudge but Iwaizumi took all of his comments with a grain of salt. Ushijima often came off entitled and cold, which would leave Iwaizumi with a bad taste in his mouth. Maybe Oikawa had the right idea holding a grudge… But grudge or not he wanted to see you, hear your voice and admire you all dolled up.

When Iwaizumi arrives at the club he is met with a large security guard. “Invitation?” he grumbles. Iwa remains calm but a small trickle of fear runs down his back. Iwaizumi gives the guard a casual smile before he starts to answer but he is interrupted. “Iwaaaaa,” you cry from the top of the stairs. The mask you’d had on is now resting on top of your head, the delicate features of your face now exposed. The floofy skirt of your dress bounces with your excitement as you run down the stairs. You crash into him, throwing your arms around his neck. You bury your face in his collar and still momentarily. Drunk and bubbly, you melt when Iwa wraps his arms around your waist in return, avoiding your costume’s wings. “Mmmm,” you hum, breath hot against his skin, “you smell good.” You pull back and stare into his wide eyes. “You look incredible,” he offers, a slight pink tint to his cheeks. You grin in return and simply take hold of his hand. “He’s with me,” you beam at the guard. Iwaizumi is doubtful this trick will work here. But he is surprised when the guard steps aside saying, “as you wish Miss L/N.” You giggle and pull Iwa towards the doors. “I’ll bring you some cake later, okay Jurou?” Jurou laughs, “just have fun darlin’.” “You’re the best,” you call behind you as you push open the doors. Iwaizumi can’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy knowing that you are on a first name basis with one of the body guards at the Wakatoshi’s club. How close were you with Ushijima?

Blue and purple lights illuminate the vast space while black tiles make up the main floor. The dance floor is sunken, in the middle of the club with a small set of stairs leading down to it. It’s made entirely of glass, beneath is a saltwater garden of different plants and coral.

“You’ll need one of these,” you explain, swiping a simple black mask from the welcome table. You hand it over to him and pull yours down over your eyes. Iwaizumi adjusts it to where he can see. “You look so handsome,” you admire. He grins, “what about you? You’ve got wings!” You laugh and adjust your mask back on top of your forehead. “I’m a swan, and Ushi said I couldn’t be a swan without wings!” You spin for him, trying your best to flap the feathered wings. Small pieces of confetti glitter rain from the skirt of your dress. Iwaizumi takes in your face illuminated by the lights of the club. Blue and pink dancing over your cheeks as you smile up at him. “What?” you giggle nervously. Just a few weeks but he is mesmerised by your everything. He shakes his head and tries to move on. He wanted to tell you how he felt but this wasn’t the right time. It should be when you’re sober, when you can take in his words properly.

You coax him down towards the bar. “You’re sure it’s okay to sneak in uninvited guests?” Iwa questions. “Well, I asked Ushi ‘nd he said it was okay, so yeah!” You grin but notice Iwaizumi’s reserve. “It’s really okay, I promise, let’s just get a drink,” you suggest and take his hand. “Only if you drink more water,” he smirks. You roll your eyes at Iwa, “I drank some water before you got here actually.” You look back at him as you both head down to the bar. “I’ll prolly regret that yurr seeing me like this tamorow, ya know,” you call over the blaring music. “It’s cute, you’re cute,” he assures as he leans against the bar, “I didn’t know you thought about me this much until I saw all the snapchats and voice messages and texts.” You cover your face in humiliation, “I knowww, I’m sorry but you were on my mind a lot, alot alot, and couldn’t stop think about ya, and the booze told me to keep on messaging…” You trail off, finding the last shred of your filter to keep you from talking. The bartender hands you your water and you take a long drink.

“Iwaizumi,” a voice projects over the baseline. Ushijima stands tall advancing towards where you both stand. His expression is neutral though, his eyes keep darting to you and then back to Iwaizumi. Ushijima is dressed as a knight, his silver mask hangs languidly around his neck. “Ushiwaka,” Iwa acknowledges, “this is a hell of a birthday party.” You giggle and point at Ushiwaka, “he’s 28 today; getting sooo old.” In that moment, Iwaizumi watches him do something he had never seen him do before. Smile… and then laugh. Ushijima wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer. “You’re just a baby, you’re only-” You wave your hand in front of Ushiwaka’s face, shushing him. “No, no, Iwa doesn’t knowww, don’t tell him,” you plead. “She’s only 23,” Ushiwaka says. You hold your face in your hands once more and groan. Ushijima pulls your hands from your face, “just barely twenty three too.” You glare at him and look back at Iwaizumi embarrassed. “Did she not tell you her age?” Ushijima asks Iwaizumi. Iwa shrugs, “She didn’t, but I never asked,” Iwa shrugs casually, addressing you now, “didn’t seem important since you carry yourself so well.”

You turn to Iwa, mouth open like you’re about to respond but Ushijima swipes the glass from your hands before you can finish. “Drinking water?” You look up at him. “But it’s my birthday… and this is a party… you need something stronger…” Ushijima beacons the bartender with a single flick of his hand. The barman pours three double shots of a clear liquid from a foreign looking bottle. Ushijima takes a glass and hands it to you, before handing another to Iwaizumi. Ushijima gives him a wink as he loops his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. He raises his glass, the violet lights illuminating the liquid. Iwaizumi follows his lead. “To my Juliet, the belle of the ball,” Ushijima bellows. You smile slightly and shake your head. “No no, to you Ushi, it’s your birthday, not mine, we are celebrating you!” Your eyes find Iwa’s, but you leave your glass raised. Ushijima grabs hold of your hand that’s still wrapped around the glass. “Cheers,” He tips the glass towards your lips and you swallow the clear liquor as he feeds it to you. You down it all in one go and Ushiwaka smiles wide once again. “She’s good, huh?” With that, Ushiwaka clinks his glass to Iwaizumi’s, “to you brother,” he assures. Iwa is surprised with the sudden sentiment. “And to you,” he replies before downing the shot. The liquor is surprisingly smooth, expensive, and strong. Iwa can feel his head starting to get light from the small portion that was in the glass and Iwa wasn’t a light weight. “Strong huh?” Ushijima smirks. Iwaizumi nods then turns to the bartender to signal for a water.

Ushijima turns to where you stand swaying slightly with the music. “Look at her, she gets drunk so easily,” Ushijima smiles. “How are you feeling, princess?” he shouts over at you. Iwa turns away and downs his water in disgust. ‘Princess?’ Ushijima shouldn’t be calling you that if you’re both just friends. You blink and give him a smile and a thumbs up. There was a natural innocence about you, a childlike wonder and curiosity, the embodiment of sanguine. Ushijima’s air was sometimes sinister, like he was taking advantage of your natural trusting nature. Iwa watches as Ushijima’s large hands rest on either of your shoulders and he pushes you back and forth like a pendulum between his palms. You giggle and try to push him away, “Ushi stooopp.” He laughs with you and continues pushing you around, “you’re so cute and small though, see?” He places a hand on top of your head and you still. “I said to stop,” you mumble. “And I did,” he retorts before letting you go.

Iwa watches the sudden weight of gravity find you as you stumble in your heels. He catches your arm just in time. Your arms find their way around his neck once more, your face in the crook of his neck. You pull away and Iwa examines your foggy eyes. “You okay?” You nod, pushing off of Iwa’s chest. You fix your hair, “it’s fine, he just messin’” you turn to Ushijima, “and someone doesn’t know when to quit.” You’re pulled away into Ushiwaka’s arms. He sways you back and forth, your back held against his chest while he says soft apologies. He whispers something to you and you nod. Iwaizumi wanted to pull you away from him. Not because he was jealous, but because the way that Ushiwaka was behaving with you was odd.

“Y/n is a little bit tired, why don’t you join us in VIP?” Iwa smiles and gives his thanks, trying his best to hide his scowl. Iwa follows after you and Ushiwaka, upstairs and under velvet ropes hoping that he will find a good moment to pull you away. But instead you are pulled onto the couch beside Ushiwaka. He lights a cigar and offers one to Iwa, but Iwaizumi declines with a simple, “no thanks, don’t smoke.” It’s strange the way that Ushiwaka keeps whispering in your ear, giving you sips of his drinks, and blowing smoke in your face. “Ushi, stop please, the smell is making me sick,” you whine. But he just pulls you closer to him, chuckling all the while and does it again. You’re laughing and poking his face, but it’s not out of joy... Watching Ushijima interact with you the whole night has been like watching a cat toy with a mouse.

Iwa grimaces when Ushiwaka tickles you. “Stop-stop-don’t-stop,” you giggle and howl. “She said to stop!” Iwa raises his voice. Ushijima’s eyes shoot towards Iwaizumi while you squirm off the couch. Your eyes are heavy as you walk towards a dark hallway and disappear into the shadows. Iwa’s eyes flick to the entrance to the hall. Ushiwaka sits in a contented silence, sipping a drink, “she’s so dramatic,” he sighs. He continues smoking, arm rested over the back of the purple velvet sofa. Ushijima takes a sip of his drink, swirling the ice in his glass. Iwa doesn’t move to break the silence no matter how expectant Ushijima’s expression was. He stamps out his cigar in the tray before addressing him.

“She’s awfully talkative, and incredibly fond of you…” Ushijima starts, an odd smirk painting his expression. Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow in intrigue and Ushijima’s face hardens. “She won’t shut up about you since she met you… it’s annoying...” Iwaizumi, remains quiet, the silence settling over the men like a thick fog. The only sounds are muffled club music and the ice tinkling against Ushijima’s glass. “I’m going to be honest as a friend… bad idea.” Iwaizumi can feel the rage bubbling inside his gut, “I don’t think that what’s going on between us is any of your-” He’s cut off by Ushijima.

“I’m really looking out for you Iwaizumi, girls can break hearts and Y/n is kind of known for that… she’s just a sweet soul, makes friends easily, but love? That’s harder for her… doesn’t have the best taste in men I’m afraid, I want to protect her and you from a situation where I can already see the conclusion… I get that you like her, everyone does.” Iwazumi leans forward, “does that include you?” Ushijima is stone faced, then gives a cold laugh. “You’re funnier than I remember, Iwaizumi.”

Iwaizumi rises and heads towards the hall you disappeared down. If he sat in front of him any longer he was going to say something he regretted… and you still haven’t come back. He slips into the dark hallway as you’re exiting the bathroom. Your mask has been removed and even in the dim lighting you look pale. “Hey, what’s happened?” You look up at him embarrassed, your dress almost as wilted as you are. “Got sick…” you mutter. You’re shaking slightly, arms wrapped around yourself. “Oh Y/n, are you alright?” he sighs. His arm starts to reach for you but he thinks better of it, pulling it back to rest by his side. His eyes widen as he feels the warmth of your hand in his. He didn’t figure that you would want to be touched right now. But your fingers interlace with his, your skin soft. “Are you good to drive?” you whisper. His hand instinctively tightens around yours protectively. “I only had whatever Ushijima gave us, it was strong but I’ve had water- yeah I’m good.” “Would you mind taking me home?” you ask, as you start to walk back towards the VIP room. “Sure, course,” Iwaizumi replies gently. He feels how your thumb brushes over the back of his hand in silent gratitude. The gesture has his heart beating hard against his ribs. Iwa walks forward, his eyes on you and nothing else. Your brow is furrowed and your expression painted serious which was unusual from how he knew you to act.

“Iwa’s taking me home now,” you announce and walk towards the stairs. Ushiwaka’s face hardens, “I can take her home, you shouldn’t trouble yourself,” he addresses Iwaizumi. You smile and turn around facing Ushiwaka. “But Ushi, ‘s ur birthday, you can’t leave this party jus’ ‘a take me home,” You turn to Iwa now. “Let’s go,” you say and Iwa nods, still holding your hand. “Where’s my hug, princess?” Ushijima calls after you. You stop in your tracks and close your eyes, taking in a deep breath. You drop Iwa’s hand slowly, hesitantly. You walk back slowly and stand before his open arms. He lifts you and you groan. You’re still hugging him tightly but not quite with the same intimacy as before.

As Ushijima places you down you turn to look back at Iwa when Ushijima catches your face with his large hand. He coaxes your face back towards him then leans down. Ushiwaka locks eyes with Iwaizumi as he whispers something in your ear. Then he presses his lips to your cheek, still not moving his eyes away from Iwaizumi’s. Iwa tries his best to remain neutral but he can feel his lip creeping upwards in contempt. Ushiwaka is too prideful for his own good it seems.

You take Iwa’s hand again, leading him towards the exit. An exasperated look rests on your face. “What did he say to you?” Iwa asks. You sigh and shake your head. “‘S nothin’, ya shouldn’t worry your pretty lil head ‘bout it.” Iwa can’t help but allow a smile. He raises an eyebrow at you, “think my head is pretty?” he asks. He’s met with your hazy gaze, “I do,” you say simply. Iwa wasn’t prepared for such a straightforward answer to his question.

Once out of the club, the valet pull Iwaizumi’s car around. He’s careful not to let you walk too far on your own. Sick, in those ridiculous shoes and still quite drunk, he opens the car door for you before hopping into the driver's seat. “Will you put your address in?” Iwa hands you his phone and you type it in as asked. “Thanks for doing this,” you sigh. “Yeah of course,” he says as he puts the car into gear. A few streets of city light pass by in silence. Your hands are resting in your lap but your body is still trembling. “I can- umm- pull over if you need me to…” You wave the thought away with your hand, “it was the smell of the cigar more than anything…” Iwa’s gut begins to boil again. Your voice is soft, almost defeated. He speaks before thinking better of it. “Does he always treat you like that?” You look at Iwa and make eye contact briefly before his attention is back on the road. “He was being a little extra weird today, maybe because y’all used to play volleyball together or… I dunno really, he just gets like that sometimes…” You trail off, allowing your thoughts to fade into the rearview. The silence is deafening and you feel the need to break it. “He’s really nice too though, don’t get me wrong, he cooks for me and calls to check in, he even gets me little gifts, so I know he cares.” Iwa shakes his head, “if he cared he would have stopped when you asked him to.” You take a breath, “I know but he was just having a night I guess…” Iwa pulls into your driveway as the GPS notifies him that he has ‘arrived at the destination’. He puts the car in park, “you don’t have to make excuses for him… it’s okay to be angry, if that’s how you feel.” You start to open the door, your fingers on the handle. “I’m not angry though, I’m just kinda hurt.” You open the door and start to get out, “okay, maybe a little angry too.” You laugh to yourself but not out of joy. It’s an ironic laugh and Iwa can hear the pain ringing inside of it. “Let me walk you inside.”

#iwaizumi #iwa #hajime #hajime x reader #iwa x reader #iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu #hq #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi hajime #pls protect me iwa

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stargaze-issei · 4 years

Note

Stoner Hawks being on patrol with him and maybe having a fire quirk (Dabi’s sis blue flames but you know Endevor don’t know that maybe she knows Dabi is her brother and knew that he ran away and never told her dad about it and how often she sees him but n e way she’s a hero did the whole UA thing) and being on patrol on top a building Keigo rolls a joint and moves on in readers direction like “can you spark it?🥺” maybe just smoking maybe some smut

this made me sO soft, like yes stoner hawks being the cutest 🥺 i got a little carried away with it, and somehow it ended up being 2.1k long ( ´◡‿ゝ◡`) thank u sm for requesting, i loved it.

stoner!takami with a todoroki!reader.

summary; in the request.

genre; fluff, smut.

warnings; daddy kink, praise kink, breeding kink, oral (receiving-giving), curse words, idk fucking(? smut in general.

word count; 2.1k

author's note; don't judge me it's my first time writing smut ):

your phone rang in the pocket of your hero costume, the id showing a smiley keigo. despite knowing what was about to happen, you couldn't avoid your own smile. as you answered, the first thing you heard was wind on his side of the line, you sighed, he was probably calling while flying, again.

"one of this days, you're going to crash against a plane" his melodic laugh reached through the speaker. damn, how could you stay mad when he's laughing like that?

"i'm going to assume you're already at our spot, gorgeous" this time you laughed, nervously, takami hated waiting more than anything, and there you were, thirty minutes away from your meeting point. "send me your location, i'm picking you up" and just as fast, he hung up. flying with him was a better idea than running through the city by yourself, therefore, you did as he said.

a giggle escaped your mouth, he had that effect on you, despite of knowing each other for that long. it didn't matter how many times he called you pretty, gorgeous, angel, your face instantly heated up. and he loved it, it gave you a fake innocence, that he sure knew was oly a facade. in less than five minutes, his mighty figure covered the sun above you, looking like that, he could easily be confused by an angel send from heaven.

"i know i'm hot, but you're drooling a bit" takami, the endless teaser.

"let's just go" he picked you up, bridal style, gaining a few curious glares.

your relationship, if you could call it that, had always been a subject of gossip. not you nor him had either confirmed it or deny the rumors about it, truth be told, not even you knew what you were. it was more than friendship, but not as committed as an actual couple. you were used to kiss him, sleep with him, get high with him, and that was enough. there were feelings between, from both parts, but this was the best way. two heroes, in the peak of their careers, had no time for anything else. the ride to your usual vigilance spot was short, hawks flying at a dangerous speed, despite your complete trust in him, you still wondered if he could drop you.

"what took you so long?" he asked, once you were sitting in the edge of the tall building. you sighed, to keep that secret from him was exhausting, at least.

"my brother called".

an awkward silence grew, takami knew you were endeavor's oldest daughter, his pride and joy, wether you liked it or not. obviously he knew your brother had to be endeavor's lost son, touya. what you had kept to yourself was he went now by the name dabi, a faithful follower of the hero killer's ideals.

"is he okay?"

"mhm, he needed money".

keigo wasn't going to tell you this, but every time you said you brother called because he needed something, his blood boiled in his veins. ignoring the fact that he had to stay hidden, for some reason you wouldn't say, to hawks it seemed like he only reached out to you out of material need, meanwhile you were always preocuppied with his well. takami's hand found its way to yours, even wtih gloves you could feel his warmness.

"oh, right, i-i've been saving this for us" he took a small plastic bag out of his pocket, letting you see those green herbs. by the looks, it had to be more expensive than usual. you gasped, in a really cute way, hawks thought. no words were needed, he grindered the pot before rolling a joint. his tongue appeared to seal it, looking straight into your eyes while licking it. he knew exactly what he was doing. "may you do the honors, angel face" a small blue flame igniciate in the tip of your index finger, just as he inhale for the first time.

takami, covered in a cloud of smoke, holding a blunt on his hand, adding that chilled look in his face. was certainly a sight to see.

unspokenly, he handed it over to you. with a smile on you face, you hit it for the first time. for a while, non of you talked, just enjoying each other's company, in fact, those moments with keigo were you favorite, you didn't have to worry for anything besides him. and he thought the same, there, he could stop being hawks, he could be just keigo, your long term friend, leaving all the responsabilities of being a hero in the ground. with you, he felt like flying.

by pure coincidence, he caught you looking at his profile. the moonlight made you have a different kind of glow, like a fairy, he thought. almost withouth realizing, he leaned over to you, his lips seeking yours rather desperately. his hand wondered to your hair, finding its place in the back of your neck, pulling you closer and making sure you weren't escaping. his experimented tongue made its way into your mouth, going through every place he already knew like it was the first time. he tasted like smoke. once he knew you were on the same page, he pushed you back on solid ground, laying on top of you. a moan left your lips, drowned by his own mouth, when his still dressed hips impacted against you.

every touch was being enhanced by the effect of the pot. he pulled away, breaking the moment. he needed to look at you, your lust filled eyes, your half opened mouth. it was enough to get him hard in his pants. with a quick movement, he took out his gloves, fastly moving to take off your complicated hero costume. maybe it was because he was blown out of his mind, or he was just to eager to see your naked body, but he had a serious struggle doing it, making a soft giggle leave your throat.

"you could help me instead of laughing at me" he whined, jokingly upset.

"and miss the hawks having troubles with a bra? i don't think so" that seemed to made him even more anxious, you knew he was done when a small "finally" was whispered.

between laughs, giggles and smirks, he got back on top of yours. he liked to feel you naked underneath him, having you to his complete disposal, and not losing a single item of his clothes. you weren't letting him enjoy the moment to much, a girl has her need, and touching his work out abs was certainly a need. you removed his shirt, smiling at his messy hair.

he started to leave a trace of kisses from your lips to you r collarbone, licking, biting, leaving small dark marks on your skin. just at that, you became a moaning mess, there was something so dirty about takami marking your body.

"babygirl, i haven't even started" with that, you closed your eyes, giving into pleasure as his kisses got lower and lower. when he got to your breast, your nipples were already hard, expecting to feel his wet mouth any moment now. but that wasn't all that happened, almost at the same time, you felt a hand opening its way to your drenched cunt. "look at that, you're already so wet from my mouth only".

his tongue circle you nip at a killing pace, while two fingers found their way inside you without any warning. so thight, he said, his mind already thinking on how well you could take his cock. with his thumb in the perfect position, he started massaging your swollen clit. all you could do was melt in his touch. his free hand reached to the last bit of the blunt, which rested at a safe distance. he got up, leaving you kneeled in front of him.

"open your mouth, princess" despite his loving tone, he wasn't asking, so you did as you were told and watched him hit the last of the joint, keeping as much smoke as he could beofre leaning towards you. with a kiss, he shared it with you, entangling your tongues. he licked your lips, getting back up, his hand resting on the waist of his pants. "you're gonna be a good girl, aren't you, princess?" he got his hips so close to your face that your mouth watered.

"yes, daddy" you knew calling him that was a trigger. he took out his fat dick outside his pants, so hard that it was starting to hurt. his hand placed on the back of your head, guiding you to your objective.

as soon as your lips wrapped around the tip of his cock, he let out a unsually deep growl. takami never lasted that long, and being under the inffluence of weed wasn't helping. he couldn't even look down at you, the sight of your angel face, looking so fucking pretty while sucking him off, he was barely controlling himself from your noises. you struggled, gagging every once in a while, but never stopped, he loved to see the tears in your eyes. when he felt close, his dick twitch in your mouth, you tasted the precum coming out of him. before doing it, he pulled your hair back, avoiding it.

"my baby, you do it so good, do you think you deserve a reward?" to those words, you couldn't help but moan. his hand held your chin, making you look straight into his eyes.

"please, daddy, please eat me out" he felt like losing his mind hearing you begging like that, who was him to deny it. a kiss left in your lips, before kneeling down facing your wet, juicy, cunt. thanks for the meal, he thought.

his tongue worked wonders. the second he met your needy clit, you were actually watching the stars. the ability he had, going between your folds, sucking just in the right spot, fucking you with his tongue. he had you a screaming and drooling mess in a minute.

"daddy! oh god, yes! there, keep going, please! fuck me, yes!" he loved hearing you going crazy because of him, he loved being able to do as he pleased with you. he could hear your moans forever.

he knew you too well, instantly he could tell you were close to cum, he wasn't going to let that happen, he wanted you to cum in his dick, breaking your back, leaving you so fucked up you wouldn't be able to walk afterwards. feeling him leave you on the edge was torture.

"are you so desperate for me, little bird?" he crawled to you, placing his hips on top of yours. you weren't even thinking when he kissed you, loving the thought of you tasting yourself. you wrapped your hands around his neck, reaching his back, if there was something he liked was you scratching his back until it bleed.

with a slow, gentle hursh, he deepend inside you, admiring the image of you closing your eyes at the pain. even prepared and lubed, he was just too big for you. as he felt you adptaing, his pace got faster and harder, his hands grabbed tightly into your hips, probably leaving bruises afterwards. in less than a minute, he already had a constant pace inside you, hitting your spot with every thurst. you whimpers and his groans mixed in the air. one of his hands travelled to your neck, applying a little pressure on it while his thumb fitted in your mouth. that was the view he wanted to see for his whole life.

"you're such a slut, baby girl, but you're my slut, right?" you sucked his thumb, your mind couldn't form coherent words and his finger didn't let you speak. "oh yes, cum with me, princess, cum for daddy" his words were like music to your ears.

the orgasm you repressed for a while felt so close, when you finally reached it, your walls clenched around his dick even harder than before, a scream of pleasure filling the atmosphere. not long after, you felt his warm cum exploding inside you, his grab hardened and a moan left his lips. he stayed there for a while, retaking his breath.his wings served as a wall for the cold wind running. finally, he retired from you, laying at your side while hugging you with one of his arms.

you looked at him, despite not being your actuall boyfriend, he loved you as much as you loved him. though tired, the fuzzy feeling inside you didn't stop, you wondered if it was just you being still high as a rocket, or if that's what love felt like.

#bnha x reader #bnha x y/n #mha x reader #hawks x reader #hawks smut #mha hawks #bnha hawks #hawks imagine #hawksbnha #takami keigo #takami keigo x reader #mha takami keigo #takami keigo smut #takami keigo imagines #bnha smut #mha smut #pro heroes #pro hero hawks #– star's; request!

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httpjeon · 5 years

Text

— 05. risk it all | jungkook (m.)

jungkook/reader | fluff, smut, angst | hybrid!au

wordcount: 6.3k

contents: virgin kink, dirty talk, knotting, in heat/mating, mating bite, pet names (he calls u his doe), size kink/difference, sensitivity kink, cumflation/cream pie, cum eating (jk eats his own), light cum sharing, light finger sucking, praise kink, cunnilignus, multiple orgasms, alpha!jk, protective!jk, sweet!joon, doctor!namjoon, seokjin cameo, near death experience, recovery, blood (jk punches namjoon), needles, administering of medicine

— synopsis: trapped with no idea what to do, you and jungkook thankfully meet a new friend who offers his help.

blog masterlist — series masterlist 01 | 02 | 03 | 04

Jungkook squinted against the painful light invading his sight. A masculine scent filled the space; a human man. He froze, however, at the deadly warning growl Jungkook let rip from his chest.

"H-Hey, hey," The man put his free hand up to show he wasn't armed with anything other than the flashlight. Jungkook was still, sitting up straighter in an effort to hide your vulnerable form behind him, away from the prying eyes of the stranger.

The man, mistaking Jungkook's stillness for acceptance, took another step forward. Before Jungkook could think further, he launched himself at the man. Another feral growl tore from his lips as he caught the stranger with a strong punch to his nose. He groaned and the pungent smell of blood hit Jungkook's nose.

"Fuck!" The man cursed, standing up. Jungkook stood as well, noticing the man was slightly taller — an even bigger threat. When the hybrid moved to launch a second attack, the man began to back away. "Okay, okay...I'm leaving!"

Jungkook growled but stopped, sharp eyes following the taller form retreat out of the door. His scent lingered but Jungkook significantly relaxed. While his knuckles were throbbing from possibly breaking the guy's nose, the small whimper that came from you was more important.

Jungkook didn't sleep a wink that night, every little noise from outside and coming from you had him of edge. He laid himself beside you, holding you close to his body surrounding you with his scent to quell the effects of the heat.

It didn't do much but with him beside you, it helped put you to sleep — though restless as it was, not a comfortable sleep.

By the time the sun peeked over the horizon, he was exhausted. Beyond that, however, was his worry for you.

Your condition had only worsened as the hours ticked by. With your body coated in a sheen of sweat, your breathing was heavy and he knew you would dehydrate quickly.

At the rate you were going — you were going to die.

And that thought terrified Jungkook.

He sat beside you, where you curled up on the old mattress that was there. It was no doubt unsanitary but it was better than you being on the wood floor.

The birds had just begun chirping and the sound of life began to bustle outside on the streets when there were three solid knocks on the door. Jungkook stiffened and sat up, once again shielding your curled up body. His lumps felt heavy and his mind sluggish so all he could muster was a growl — a warning for the person intruding.

A familiar scent stung Jungkook’s nose and he easily recognized that it was the man from the night before. The bandage on his nose and bruised eyes were also an indication.

He seemed weary, no doubt afraid he'd get attacked again as he shut the door behind him.

Jungkook kept his sharp gaze on him, watching as the man had his hands raised by his head once again and he crouched lower as he walked forward. Any time Jungkook growled or tensed, he would stop.

You'd almost think he was approaching a feral animal. Which, in that moment is what Jungkook felt like.

"M-My name is Kim Namjoon," The man introduced softly. "I'm a doctor specializing in hybrid care. I just want to help you."

"Why?" Jungkook growled, subconsciously reaching behind him and placing his hand on you.

"I noticed her last night..." Namjoon responded. "Is she hurt? I have some supplies I can check her up with. If you're okay with it?"

"Stop," Jungkoo snapped, making the man freeze immediately. "Don't come any closer."

"Okay, okay I won't," Namjoon promised, moving slowly to not alarm Jungkook as he sat down on the wood floor. It creaked under his weight and he winced.

"Prove it," Jungkook said.

"W-What?" The doctor asked.

"If you're really a doctor, you'll have some proof right?" Jungkook asked, squinting at the man as he nodded.

"I uh I have my ID?" Namjoon responded. "I'm just gonna pull it out of my pocket, okay?"

Jungkook didn't respond, simply watching that man like a hawk as he reached into his pants pocket and worked the leather wallet out. He held it up for Jungkook to see before tossing it forward. It landed on the floor a few inches in front of the bed with a soft thud. Jungkook leaned forward, picking it up and inspecting it. It was a little worn, indicating Namjoon had owned it for a while.

He flipped it open to see an array of cards. There were a few bills of cash inside as well. Jungkook pulled out the ID card, looking it over.

It seemed the man was telling the truth — on his ID was the symbol indicating his position as a hybrid doctor.

"You're not from the warehouse?" Jungkook asked, taking a look at Namjoon's bank cards as well. There was also a administration badge to a hospital — no doubt his place of work.

"Warehouse? What?" Namjoon asked, making Jungkook shake his head. He placed the things back in the wallet and tossed it back to the doctor.

"You can look at her," Jungkook said, moving backwards to resume his position by your side. Instinctively, you moved and huddled closer to him — drawn by his warmth and scent.

"Thank you," Namjoon breathed, pulling his backpack off and moving to sit beside the two of you on the bed. "I have some things in here to help."

Jungkook was silent, watching with rapt attention as Namjoon moved you onto your back. You whined at the shift but remained unconscious otherwise.

Namjoon placed his stethoscope in his ears, moving it around your chest and stomach — listening closely. He moved with practiced ease, Jungkook noted, making good time checking your temperature and pulse. He stopped as he did so, making a soft noise of what Jungkook could only describe as distress.

"What? What is it?" Jungkook asked, panic lacing his voice.

"A lot of things," Namjoon responded.

"Spit it out," Jungkook snarled, making Namjoon sigh.

"Her body isn't equipped to handle the heat," He said, which Jungkook already knew. "The fever is causing her organs to slowly shut down. She needs a hospital right now."

"No hospital," Jungkook growled, hand shooting forward to grab the front of Namjoon's button down shirt.

"If she doesn't get to a hospital she's going to die," Namjoon argued but Jungkook shook his head.

If you went to a hospital, they'd call hybrid control and Jungkook would never see you again. You weren't mated so they had no reason to keep you together. They would take you away.

"Okay, okay," Namjoon sighed, running his hand through his dark hair. "No hospital then."

"Thank you..." Jungkook whispered, relaxing once more as he released Namjoon.

"I can take you to my home," Namjoon offered. "I'm more than capable to examine and care for her at home. I examine friends there from time to time as well."

"I...Not during the daylight," Jungkook whispered, holding your heated body close. "It's not...a good idea."

He didn't want to risk someone seeing them and following them to Namjoon's house. That would not only be bad for them, it would also put the innocent doctor in danger.

Namjoon heaved a big sigh. "Okay, then I'll come back around tonight," Jungkook watched as he reached into his backpack once again and pulled out an array of items. "In the meantime, I brought some water and protein food. If you can get her to eat and drink, that'd be great but don't force it down."

"Thank you," Jungkook whispered placing the items down beside the mattress, watching as Namjoon dug deeper inside the bag.

"Ice packs," He said, pulling two out and handing them to the hybrid. "Bring her body temperature down slowly but as soon as possible. It'll give us more time to slow the organ failure."

"I will, thank you," Jungkook whispered, watching with wide eyes as Namjoon stood up and slung his backpack back on.

"What's your name anyway?" Namjoon asked, pausing by the door.

"...Jungkook," He replied. "And this is ______."

"I'll see you tonight, Jungkook," Namjoon smiled. "Take care of her."

"Of course," Jungkook responded.

Jungkook stole some of the food and water, though he left majority of it for you. He could barely get your eyes to open and he wasn't sure you were completely conscious but he managed to get you to take a few gulps of water — though you wouldn't eat anything.

The fact you got water in your system helped ease his worries and he remained by your side, holding the ice packs to your skin.

You seemed to enjoy the cold packs as your body would relax and lean into them whenever he touched you with them. He wouldn't keep them on you for too long — Namjoon had warned it could cause you to go into shock and that terrified Jungkook.

He couldn't imagine being the cause of your death.

Soon, the sun began setting and Jungkook found himself watching to door.

What if Namjoon never showed up? Your only hope bailing on you? Jungkook didn't know what he would do.

Before long, the moon was hung in the sky and the streets had gone quiet — the area they were in not exactly a bustling hot spot at night.

Jungkook jumped when there were knocks on the door and he sat up, patting your hair when you whined at the loss.

"Jungkook?" Namjoon called, pushing the door open. "It's Namjoon. Are you ready to go?"

"Y-Yeah," Jungkook called back, standing up. Namjoon walked in, gathering the water and food neither Jungkook nor you ate and placing it back in his backpack.

"Do you need me to carry her?" Namjoon asked, no doubt out of courtesy due to Jungkook's obviously frail frame.

"No!" Jungkook snarled when Namjoon moved towards you — not willing to let the stranger touch you.

Namjoon backed off immediately and didn't say anything, just watched at Jungkook mustered his strength and lifted you up. The doctor held the door open for Jungkook, directing him to his car.

Jungkook walked a bit down the street, shielded by the darkness of downed street lights. There was a sleek black car that unlocked as he approached it. He waited for Namjoon to catch up and open the door for the hybrid, who laid you down on the leather backseat. You let out an uncomfortable whine, which Jungkook whispered an apology to you for.

Namjoon closed the back seat once Jungkook got in, resting your head in his lap. He lightly stroked the fur of your ears — fur still soft despite not being properly cleaned in a while.

"We'll be there soon," Namjoon said, voice soft in the confined space as he started the car — glancing in the rear view mirror to watch Jungkook's interactions with you.

"I appreciate this, Namjoon," Jungkook whispered, stroking the skin of your cheek with his thumb.

"It's no problem. It's what I do," Namjoon smiled. "So, are the two of you mates?"

"No," Jungkook whispered. "Not yet, anyway."

"But you've imprinted on her, right?" Namjoon asked, making Jungkook's head snap up.

"How did you—"

"I spent 10 years in medical school learning about hybrids, Jungkook," Namjoon chuckled. "I know about imprinting."

"Right..." Jungkook sighed, looking back down at you.

"Does she know?" Namjoon asked.

"Probably not," Jungkook whispered.

"Maybe when she gets better, you'll be able to tell her," Namjoon asked, glancing in the mirror to see how Jungkook smiled down at you — stroking your hair so gently. It was hard to believe it was the man who had nearly broken his nose. "We're here."

Jungkook looked up to see that they were driving through a large gate. The winding driveway led up to an incredible house.

It was obvious Namjoon was very wealthy.

Namjoon shut the car off and got out, quickly opening the door for Jungkook. He waited patiently as the hybrid gathered you up in his arms and scooted out of the seat. He was mindful not to bump you on anything as even the slightest movement caused you to whine in pain.

Jungkook could only imagine what you felt like. With your organs shutting down, you were no doubt in agony.

"Alright," Namjoon sighed, jogging up to his front door — unlocking it before ushering Jungkook and you inside. "I have an office upstairs we can put her in."

Jungkook fastened his pace, following closely after Namjoon as he jogged up the stairs and into an open doorway. Inside, was a bunch of medical equipment. Jungkook had noticed there were many rooms in the hallway and he briefly wondered if he had any other medical rooms.

"Lay her here," Namjoon ordered, gesturing to a bed.

It was similar to a hospital bed but clearly more comfortable. Jungkook laid you down and sighed, stepped back to look at you as you curled in on yourself with a whimper.

"Wh-What are you doing?" Jungkook asked, watching as Namjoon moved a stool to your bedside.

"I'm going to fit her with an IV for fluids and painkillers," Namjoon explained. "If we can get fluids in her, it'll halt the effects of the organ damage due to the heat. And then we can work on getting her better through medications."

"Why don't you give her medicine now?" Jungkook asked, wincing when Namjoon slid the needle into your arm.

"Because the medicine to counteract a negative heat is too powerful and would just cause more damage," Namjoon replied easily, hooking a bag up on so it would flow into your body. "Don't worry Jungkook. I'll take good care of her."

"I...I know, I just..." Jungkook shifted on his feet.

"You could use some too, you're running on fumes," Namjoon said, gesturing Jungkook over. The hybrid hesitated and Namjoon sighed. "You'll be no good to her when she comes out of it if you're dead on your feet, Jungkook."

"...You're right," Jungkook sighed and walked up to the doctor. He didn't watch as Namjoon fixed him up with his own IV.

"You can lay with her, if you'd like," Namjoon said, watching with a smile when Jungkook eagerly did so. "Get some rest, okay? You need it."

When you opened your eyes, the first thing you noticed was the dim lights overhead. Blinking the fog from your eyes, you swallowed thickly — your throat dry.

"Well hello," A soft voice greeted, making you jump. "It's okay. My name is Namjoon, I'm a doctor."

"A doctor?" You whispered, wincing when it hurt your throat.

"That's right," Namjoon helped you sit up and placed a cup to your lips. "Drink slowly."

You eagerly drank down the cool water, pausing whenever Namjoon told you to slow. Within minutes, the cup was empty and you were able to lay back down. Te water helped make you more alert and you realized there was someone next to you.

"Jungkook was hiding you both out in an abandoned house," Namjoon explained, no doubt sensing your curiosity. "Poor thing was exhausted."

"You took care of him?" You asked softly.

"I did what he let me," Namjoon smiled. "He's stubborn."

"Thank you," You smiled, relaxing against the wolf. "Do you mind if I sleep?"

Namjoon chuckled. "You don't have to ask permission, go ahead. The pain meds are no doubt making you drowsy."

"Pain meds?" You repeated sleepily.

"We'll talk about it later," He whispered, patting your head. "Just rest."

The next time you woke up, you felt a little more alert.

And hungry.

Namjoon laughed when you told him, making you blush.

"No it's a good thing!" He said, offering you a cup of yogurt he pulled from the mini fridge in the room.

Beside you, Jungkook stirred with a groan. Sitting up, he hissed when he accidentally tugged his IV.

"Have a nice sleep, Jungkookie?" You asked softly, holding back a grin when he looked at you with wide eyes.

"______," He whispered, reaching forward. His fingers hovered slightly over you cheek before cupping it and smiling. "You're awake! And eating!"

"I've started giving her small doses of medication," Namjoon explained. "She'll most likely go through this heat sleeping."

"She won't have any...other effects?" Jungkook asked, making you blush and shovel more yogurt in your mouth.

"Most likely not," Namjoon said. "This will be a medically intervened heat so she'll be fine for the most part. Unfortunately, the next heat will probably be pretty powerful and a bit longer than usual. But she should be in good enough health to be okay through it."

"That's good," Jungkook sighed, relaxing into the couch. "Have you got any more of that yogurt?"

"Absolutely," Namjoon smiled. "I'm glad to see you're both eating. It's a good sign. We'll work on getting your weight up."

Within the week, you were feeling much better. You slept quite a bit as Namjoon had predicted but you were eating well and feeling otherwise in good condition.

To say Jungkook was happy was an understatement, the worst was over and you were going to get better. Still, he refused to get too far from you — wanting to be close if you're suddenly in need of him.

Jungkook's own strength came back quicker than yours — after all, his organs hadn't been in the process of shutting down. He took to helping Namjoon care for you, learning how to inject your medicine and also preparing you food according to a diet plan Namjoon chose.

Soon enough, Namjoon declared that the heat had passed.

It wasn't long before you were in good health, living with Namjoon and Jungkook. The house was big enough that you were given your own rooms though everyone knew you would sleep with Jungkook.

Which you did.

It was dinner a few nights later, you had helped Namjoon cook food like he'd been teaching you. The three of you sat down at the table and began to eat while casual conversation drifted between you.

The thing about Namjoon was that he was kind and easy to talk to. He had a quiet, gentle nature that allowed both you and Jungkook to feel at ease around him. He worked hard to gain your trust and the both of you came to deeply respect the doctor.

It wasn't every day a human would go out of his way to rescue a couple hybrids — especially after one attacked him.

"Namjoon..." You said after you finished eating, the three of you sitting together as there was a lull in the conversation. "I know there's a lot you've wanted to ask us. And if it's okay with Jungkook, I think we should talk about it."

"Really?" Namjoon asked, straightening up immediately.

"Yeah, I think it's a good idea," Jungkook said, smiling softly. "We both came from a black market warehouse the night you found us."

"You're kidding..." Namjoon gasped, jaw falling open.

"No," You sighed. "I was given to them in exchange for the safety of the others."

"A couple poachers came in and took every last one of my pack members," Jungkook explained with a sigh. Though the bonds he had with them had faded, it was still painful to remember what he once had. "I was the last one left."

"I had no idea a new band popped up," Namjoon whispered, shaking his head. "Listen, I have a friend — he's a lawyer and works in hybrid rescues. If you can tell us everything you know, we'll do our best to rescue those in captivity and stop those in charge."

"Really?" You asked. "You can do that?"

"Well, they are illegal. And Seokjin is a pretty powerful face in hybrid activism," He explained. "I'll make a call to him."

"I hope Taehyung and Yoongi are okay," You whispered to Jungkook. "Oh!"

"Hm?" Namjoon jumped slightly at your outburst.

"Jimin!" You gasped. "A man who works there, Park Jimin. H-He helped us escape. He won't be punished will he?"

"Well," Namjoon cleared his throat. "I'll see what I can do for him."

The two of you followed Namjoon to his study, where you sat on the couches while he sat behind his desk. You hadn't yet gotten used to all the human technology and the study was a room of fascination for you. Namjoon had taken to collecting book over the last couple months to teach you how to read better. You had a little knowledge but it wasn't near fluent.

He was so patient, taking the time to teach you.

It was really astounding how much of a good man he was. Probably the only human you would ever trust.

You curled up in Jungkook's lap as Namjoon made a phone call.

"Hey Jin, it's Namjoon," He said into the phone, chuckling at something Seokjin said on the other side. "I have some news that might interest you. I'm going to put you on speaker phone."

Namjoon pulled his cell away from his face and pressed something on the screen, before placing it down.

"You remember how I told you I rescued a couple hybrids?" Namjoon asked.

"Yes! Did you adopt them yet? You know you should do it soon," Seokjin rambled over the line, making Jungkook chuckle.

"N-No...I haven't...adopted them," The word sounded foreign rolling off his tongue. "No, they're told me that another warehouse has popped up."

"The Syndicate is back?" Seokjin's voice was suddenly serious. "How long has it been since they escaped?"

"About three months," Namjoon replied, making Seokjin heave a big sigh. "What is it?"

"That's a long time..." He whispered. "There's a chance they've moved after the escape. They'll be scared they would reveal the location."

"A chance? So they could also be there?" Namjoon asked, voice tense.

"It's possible. There's really no telling for sure," Seokjin replied. "They could be cocky and assume they'll be too scared to rat. Or they could assume they died before they could. I'll definitely look into it. Have you got any clue where about the warehouse might be?"

Namjoon rattled off an address — the place where you'd been hiding out the night you escaped.

After they hung up, Namjoon sighed.

"He'll keep me updated," He smiled. "Why don't you guys go get some rest, alright?"

"Are you going to bed?" You asked, sitting up so Jungkook could stand.

Namjoon shook his head, "I've not some work left to do for today."

You rounded his desk and wrapped your arms around his shoulders in a hug, whispering a small thank you to him before bidding him goodnight. Jungkook smiled and waved before leading you out of the room with a hand on your lower back.

Your shared bedroom was rather excluded — in fact it was completely opposite of the house to Namjoon's room.

The second you were behind the closed door, Jungkook had you pressed against the door. His hand held the back of your head, cushioning it as he pressed his lips against yours. You sighed, clinging to the front of his shirt. It certainly wasn't the first kiss you shared within the room, but this one was different.

This heated and passionate, as if Jungkook was pushing all of his love into it. He carefully peeled the hem of your shirt up, pausing before he reached your breasts, hand splayed over the smooth skin of your stomach. Taking the initiative, you helped him pull it off, and he groaned.

"On the bed, baby," He whispered against your lips.

You did as he asked, moving past him to crawl onto the plush king-size mattress. He clamored on after you, pressing kisses along your back until you turned back over. Immediately, he bent down to swoop you into another kiss.

"My cute little doe," He whispered, chuckling darkly when you shivered at the pet name. "Will you let me see you? Hm?"

You bit your lip when his fingers trailed up your stomach to the cup of your bra. He pulled at the elastic of the strap and snapped it against your skin. The sting and noise made you jump but his lips pressing against your chest made you sigh.

Giving little nips to the skin above your bra, sending goosebumps along your skin. Sucking little marks into your skin, he reached beneath you to unhook your bra. You let him pull it off of your body before covering your bare breasts with your arms, feeling shy.

"Let me see you, little one," He cooed, kissing over whatever skin he could.

Slowly, you moved your arms and blushed when he let out a loud groan. Without wasting a second, he enveloped a perked nipple in his hot mouth. His tongue was surprisingly rough as he laved over the bud. You whimpered, clutching the comforter on either side of you as Jungkook tweaked the other nipple with his fingers.

"Such pretty tits," He growled, giving a harsh suck. Relishing in the desperate whimper that escaped your lips, he scraped one of his sharp canines over the bud.

"Kook!" You cried, squirming beneath him desperately.

"Such a beautiful, responsive body," He grinned against your nipple. "You're so perfect."

He swapped to the other bud, having abused it with his fingers for long enough. The feeling of his soft lips encasing it drew another cry from you.

"Jungkookie..." You whimpered, biting your lip when he finally pulled his mouth from your breast with a lewd pop.

You held your breath when his hand suddenly slid down the length of your body and dipped into the band of your shorts. Wiggling, you whimpered as he pressed against your slit through your dampening panties.

His finger brushed against your hardened clit over the fabric, your thighs twitching at the feeling. His breath shuddered against your skin when you suddenly began to grind up into his touch, begging a soft 'more' into the room.

"Fuck," He whispered, finally slipping his hand beneath the band of your panties.

You sobbed at the direct touch of his fingers against your wet cunt. You felt so sensitive, not receiving any pleasure in a very long time making you so.

His fingers quickly became wet with your arousal as he circled your clit, indulging in your whimpers. Slowly, he brought two fingers to your entrance, prodding slightly until you jumped and reached down to grab his wrist.

"O-Only one," You whimpered, making him coo.

He did as you requested, slowly sliding his middle finger into your entrance. Your mouth fell open at the stretch before your eyes rolled back when he touched a spot inside you that sent sparks of pleasure through you.

"You're tight," He whispered, trailing his lips up your neck. "Ever had anything in this little cunt before?"

"N-No," You easily confessed, spreading your legs further as he shallowly fucked his finger into you.

"Fuck," He uttered, prodding your entrance with a second finger. When you didn't try to stop him, he pressed it inside. The feeling of your walls tightly squeezing made his cock throb.

"A-Ah, feel so full..." You whispered, eyes fluttering.

Your words had him fucking the digits into you faster. He aimed for that sweet spot inside you, relishing in the way you eyes rolled back at the pleasure. Positioning his thumb, he began to touch your clit in time to his thrusts.

Before long, your walls began to spasm around him, signaling you were close. Doubling his efforts, he met your lips in a hot kiss.

The way his cock throbbed, no doubt drooling precum into his underwear, was nearly painful. He felt you cum around him, squeezing him tightly as you cried out in pleasure — body dissolving into trembles as you came down.

You whimpered, sensitive, as he pulled the fingers from your clenching cunt. Then, much to your surprise, he popped those fingers into his mouth. Your taste exploded on his tongue and he had to reach down to grip his cock through his sweats to ease the pain of his cock.

"Shit, little one," He whispered, pulling his fingers free. "I have to taste you. Please tell me you'll let me eat your delicious little cunt."

"Yes, please Kook," You sobbed, arching your hips so he could yank your shorts and panties off in one quick motion. Before diving in, he yanked his t-shirt off as well.

You felt so vulnerable and exposed when he laid down between your legs, gaze zeroed in on your soaking folds. Using his thumbs, he spread you open — groaning at the sight of your tight little hole gushing so prettily for him.

In a burst of confidence, you reached forward and laced your fingers in his thick hair. His pointed ears twitched atop his head and you had to ignore the urge to tug them as well.

He sighed at the feeling of your hands on him and leaned forward, dragging the flat of his tongue over your spread pussy — flicking your clit to make you whimper. You were still sensitive and clutched his hair when he sucked your bud into his mouth.

"So sensitive," He whispered, smirking when you whimpered. "Such a good little doe, letting your Alpha play with your sweet cunt."

"Ah..." You sobbed, the dirty talk and pet names he used making you clench pathetically. "Alpha..." You repeated the title he'd given himself, curious.

The reaction was instantaneous as he low growl ripped from his throat. Strong hands gripped the back of your knees and before you knew it, your legs were pinned wide open. Jungkook didn't hesitate in diving in, eating your cunt like he was a man starved. He groaned, vibrations make you legs tremble.

"A-Alpha, please..." You sobbed, yanking at his hair — though he didn't mind. "F-Feels so good!"

"Yeah?" He chuckled, pulling back to gaze down at your exposed pussy. "Gotta make sure you're ready to take my cock, little girl."

"Please...please..." You begged, unsure of what exactly you were begging for.

Jungkook seemed to understand, mouth latching onto your clit and sucking. You keened, gasping for air as it felt like you were breathless. The pleasure he was making you feel was unknown to your inexperienced body and that was exciting to Jungkook.

"Jungkook! W-Want you, please," You begged, craving to be filled by his cock.

He chuckled, swirling around your clit with his tongue. "You gotta cum again before you get my cock, sweet girl."

Your eyes rolled, mindlessly attempting to grind up to get more of his hot mouth on your cunt again. The position didn't allow you to move very far, much to your frustration. Wrapping his arm around your thigh, he pulled the hood of your clit back to attack the bud directly.

The orgasm blindsided you, your back arching as your body trembled beneath him. You gasped out his name as you yanked at his hair, accidentally catching one of his sensitive wolf ears. He growled, a mixture of pain and annoyance but the warning was lost on you as you rode out the high on his sinful tongue.

Finally detaching himself from your addictive pussy, he wiped his mouth and chin with the back of his hand. His lips were swollen and he wore a filthy smirk on his lips.

"Are you ready, sweetheart?" He asked, sliding off the bed to discard his sweats and underwear. His cock was painfully hard as it came free, slapping against his stomach. It was thick and long — flushed almost purple at the tip and dripping precum down the shaft. Wrapping his fist around himself, he used his own precum to aid in the movement. "Are you gonna let your Alpha breed that little virgin cunt?"

"Alpha..." You gasped. Though you weren't a wolf with the same instincts, it still felt natural to call him by that. The way he shivered whenever the title spilled past your lips was enticing, making you want to say it more.

"Shit, so sweet for me," He cooed, pressing his lips against yours as the fat head of his cock slid between your folds. "Relax for me. Let me in."

You clutched onto him as he prodded your entrance. The stretch burned — your body not equipped to take an Alpha wolf's cock. He kissed you through it, caressing your body every time you tensed up — relaxing you and urging you to take him like you were meant to. Because you were his.

"My mate," He growled, making you whimper as you clenched around him. There was a soft swell at the base of his cock — his knot, as he bottomed out. "Such a good girl. Took all of me in that tiny cunt. Stuffed so full...can't wait to knot you, little doe."

You sobbed as he pulled out, pushing back in with a wet slap. You were gushing around him, squirming and trembling as he fucked you open. Stretched beyond what you thought possible, your brain was muddled through the pleasure.

"Jungkookie..." You slurred, eyes rolling as you clutched onto him.

"What is it, little one?" He asked, kissing your lips softly as he slowed his thrusts until he was just softly grinding against you. His pelvic bone ground against your clit, sending you into soft spasms as you clenched around him. "Do you want to cum again?"

"Yes please," You begged, making him laugh. "Please!"

"Such a dirty little doe," He chuckled, resuming his thrusts into your tight hole. "Letting a wolf have your slutty cunt like this."

"Alpha—!" You sobbed, his filthy words sending you closer to the edge.

"Calling me your Alpha," He teased further, reaching between your thighs to find your swollen clit with deft fingers. "About to cum all over my cock and let me knot your little pussy."

Your eyes rolled back in your head as you cried out, squeezing his cock before the pleasure overcame you. He worked you through the high, fingers never slowing on your clit as he continued to fuck you.

His knot swelled, his own high being brought on by the sweet cries and whimpers you let out. With a low groan, he popped his knot into your still-clenching cunt and came. Your eyes flew open at the onslaught of hot cum pouring into you.

Trembling, you were shocked by how much he came — it just kept filling you. Biting his lip he stroked your stomach softly, grinning when you sobbed as he finally stopped coming. He was panting, leaning over you to press a kiss to your lips.

The change in position caused his pelvic bone to graze your sensitive clit and you gasped.

"Alpha..." You whispered, making him growl, nosing at the base of your neck near your shoulder.

"Look at you," He chuckled, voice dark. "My little virgin doe creaming all over her Alpha's knot. Gonna mark you as mine, little one. Make you my mate. Do you want that?"

"Please Alpha," You begged, wrapping your arms around him. "P-Please mark me."

"Good girl," He cooed.

When he opened his mouth and bit down — you exploded immediately. Jungkook groaned, his knot sensitive as you came around it violently. You gushed around his cock, soaking the bed beneath you. Your blood was sweet in his mouth as he broke the skin, pulling his canines out before licking over the wound to seal the punctures.

You were marked as his, and as he pulled back, the sight of his mating bite on your skin caused another orgasm to rip through him. HIs knot throbbed, forcing more cum into your already overstuffed cunt. You whimpered, digging your nails into him until it finally stopped.

"H-How long will we be like this for?" You asked softly, still trembling from the pleasure.

"Not too long," He replied, mouth sealing back over his mating mark.

It made you tremble, wrapping your arms around him as he worshiped the mark with his mouth. It felt sensitive and every time he touched it, it sent tingles down your spine.

Slowly, it felt like his knot was shrinking until he finally popped out of your core with a gush of his cum following.

"Tsk, so wasteful," He grumbled, looking between your legs to see the mess made on the blanket. "We'll have to sleep in your room tonight."

You gasped, stiffening slightly. "H-How are we gonna hide this from Namjoon?"

"Why should we hide it?" Jungkook asked with a chuckle, swiping his fingers up your folds to collect some of his cum before popping the digits in his mouth.

"B-Because..." You stuttered, squirming as you watched him pull the now clean digits from his lips.

"He probably already assumed we're fucking anyway," He chuckled when you kicked your leg out to hit him but missed.

"Don't be vulgar!" You whined.

"You didn't seem to mind vulgar a few minutes ago," He teased, collecting more cum on his fingers and bringing it to your lips. His gaze darkened when you eagerly took them in your mouth to taste his cum. "And you don't seem to mind acting vulgar."

"You're mean," You slurred around the digits.

"If I was mean I wouldn't be about to get up to make us a nice, hot bath," He chuckled, pulling his hand away, making you whine in complaint.

He took your hand and helped you stand up. Your legs wobbled slightly before you made your way to the bathroom door. A soft tug on your tail made you cry out, turning around to glare at him.

"Look at your cute little tail!"

"You're so mean!"

#bts smut #jungkook smut #jeongguk smut #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #bts imagines #jungkook imagines #bts reactions #jungkook reactions #bts preferences #jungkook preferences #bts fanfics #jungkook fanfics #jungkook x reader

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sophsun1 · 3 years

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when do u think justin’s feelings for brian went from puppy love to actual love? in that scene from ep 7 i def feel like its still infatuation / puppy love at least to some extent but by 1x21 when he tells michael that he loves brian i KNOW that he means it so fully…. so id say somewhere between 1x07 and 1x21 but was wondering if u could expand on that? like is there one moment u think switches it or was it just a progressive thing throughout those 14 eps

Hey anon !

Great question 🤔

For me it's a progressive thing as the first season goes on, as you say in 1x07 when he tells his parents he loves Brian and he's all he wants, it's true but its in the puppy love/infatuation era for me. Justin is only 17 and of course he feels that whirlwind rush of 'Omg I'm in love with this guy he's everything' feeling. As the season continues Brian demonstrates acts of care and love towards Justin, which over the course of the 14 episodes help Justin and the audience realise that his love for Brian is something true.

Here's my list of moments which to me bit by bit help Justin and us realise he's falling in love with Brian and how he fully means it when he says it

1x08 - Brian is adamant that Justin return to his parents and that he cannot stay with him at the loft, but once he's there and encounters his homophobic father and hears how for Justin to continue living there he would have to suppress and deny his entire being, Brian gives the 'that's not love that's hate' speech and takes Justin home with him. We see the look of shock on Justin's face as Brian asks him if he's coming with him, because even though he feels strongly about Brian he never expected him to take him back home with him. We then get one of my fave scenes when they have dinner together, and Brian compliments Justin's cooking and we get a small scene of them smiling at each other and an indication that these two might be something special.

1x10 - Justin runs away to New York and even though Brian essentially threw him out at the start of the episode, he still goes down there to find him, tells him he's taking him back to Pittsburgh and that he's gonna help him find a place to live and sort his life out. We even hear Justin tell Brian that deep down he hoped he'd come find him and was quite relieved when he did. For all his protests Brian took the time to get him home, not call the police and organise the move into Debbie's place and not just send him back home

1x14 - Justin hearing about Brian being accused of sexual harassment by Kip at his workplace, goes out of his way a bit stupidly but he's blinded by his love for Brian into taking the matter into his own hands and getting Kip to drop the charges against Brian by a bit of light blackmail. He could've easily ran and told Brian what he did but he instead chose to keep it to himself, happy in the knowledge that he helped him out in some way after all Brian's done for him.

1x18- I think by this point Justin has moved past the infatuation stage, and is definitely in love. This episode again has one of my fave moments with the scene at Babylon where Brian berates Justin for giving up his dreams of going to art school because he feels guilty about his parents divorce. He recalls their first meeting and says how even though Justin was terrified he still went home with Brian he took a risk and went after something he wanted, he impressed him by doing it. You can see a look of shock and recognition on Justin's face that Brian remembers that, and Brian's opinion is important to him, so if he believes in him then that means a lot to Justin.

1x21/1x22- When we reach these episodes Justin does voice to Michael he loves Brian and is devastated by him going to New York and tells him not to go with the gorgeous New York Goodbye Hug as I've titled it scene, where he tells Brian that he'll probably forget him and think he was just a dumb kid who thought he was in love with him. But at this point there's more weight to Justin being in love with Brian, as its become more obvious that Brian's in love with him. Yes he speaks the words of I'm walking out and never looking back, but his words betray him as he clings to Justin for dear life and strokes his hair as they hug goodbye. What's there to say about the prom episode at this point its blindingly obvious that both men have fallen in love with each other and there's no turning back.

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lots-o-stuff · 4 years

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requesting to show support so feel free to ignore!! how about oikawa with a reader who is equally as flirty as he is and has boys fanning over her like he does? thank you bby!

Oikawa with a flirty fem S/O

Holy crap!!! AHHHH!!! Ok I just want too say a huge thank you too @gemswrites!! this is my first request and I honestly didn't think id be getting one so soon!! i legit started screaming and jumping up and a down like an idiot when i saw it. So anyway now we have Oikawa with a Flirty fem S/O

ok so this petty bitch, we all know he is a flirty bastard, like its old news, I mean he has a fanclub and everything

but i also believe he gets jealous very easily and very quickly, so thats probably another reason including volleyball why that his previous girlfriends have left him

AND THEN, YOU come along, you and YOUR fanclub, technically you weren’t there to talk to him, you were there to see coach but irrelevant

SO you go to see coach and give him a note that one of your teachers asked you to give when you turn around and run smack bang into Iwaizumi bare with me i have a plan

N E ways, you run into Iwaizumi and fall straight on your ass, the whole team sees this, and are fucking losing it

so you get up and you are fuming, i mean anyone could tell that you are angry, but all you do is smile, wave and walk out of the gym

So the next day you are still annoyed about being embarrassed yesterday and your fanclub notices this, mainly because you are trying to get away from them instead of flirting with them

and this is where our hero comes in

so Oikawa sees that this ‘poor helpless’ girl is being bothered, so he grabs your hand and runs

you are halfway across the school when he finally stops, you are extremely confused and frazzled

And before Oikawa can even begin to explain himself, you are switching between asking why he did that, thanking him and… wait are you flirting with him?

so you run, not out of embarrassment or anything but because you are halfway across the school, far from the entrance gate and you need to get home, so you book it out of there

Oikawa goes to the gym for afternoon practice and he is extremely confused, i mean he saved a pretty girl from being harassed and then she flirted???

like what?

i mean he does get flirted to a lot by girls but a girl he finds really pretty? he is S H O O K

So he’s in the gym and everyone notices something off, why? because he is quiet!

and as much as they want to relish in the quiet they know something is up, and who has to deal with it?

Iwa-chan

So Iwaizumi takes Oikawa off to the side to talk and Oikawa just spills

he tells him everything and how he thinks he might actually like someone

And Iwaizumi starts laughing, i mean he is losing it

Oikawa is absolutely offended because he just spilled all his thoughts and Iwaizumi is laughing

but then he explains

the girl thats got Oikawa all confused is the same girl that literally ran into Iwaizumi

so they hatch a plan, the next day they would go up and talk to you, and apologize, Iwa for running into you and Oiks for literally dragging you halfway across the school

Its the next day and you are back to your usual self, your near the front of the school being your flirty self and talking with you fanclub

Oikawa marches up to you, grabs your hand again, and pulls you off to the side, where he then apologises for yesterday and well, just then

you just start giggling, which makes Oikawa blush, his flirty facade completely gone with you

he’s stuttering out words trying to, honestly you don't know what he was trying to say but you just look at him and tell him

“How about you make it up to me pretty boy, meet me here for lunch?”

AND THEN WALK AWAY

Iwaizumi walks up to Oikawa and sees him blushing so fucking hard, he looks like a tomato

Oikawa just turns to Iwa and says “she called me pretty”

so you two meet up for lunch and you get to know each other, you both had to sit in a secluded room to avoid you guys’s fans

it then happens again the next day, and then the next, and then the next

and after about 3 weeks of meeting up for lunch Oikawa pops the question

no he isn't proposing

he asks you out on a date, and ill tell you what, he wasn't expecting you to l a u g h at HIM

your trying to stutter out in between giggles that you thought thats what you had been doing everyday for lunch

This boy would be so confused and then jump up from his seat before declaring that he’d take you on a proper date and that it would be the best one you’ve ever had

So fast forward to your date that friday night, this man takes you out to a really cute cafe and then takes you too see a movie pretty cliche i know but its pretty late when the movie finishes so he takes you out to an empty park and stargazes with you

by the end of the date he is dropping you off at home and before you can go inside

YOU pull him into a kiss, you beat oikawa by like 3 seconds

You probably hold that over him for ages

Anyway after you both break away from the kiss he asks you to be his girlfriend

So on the saturday you wake up and see a text from Oikawa asking if you wanted to meet up again

you guys do and you just hang around your house talking, watching shows, playing games and overall just enjoying eachothers company

come monday no one knows about you two, not your friends, not oikawa's friends, and ESPECIALLY not your guys’s fan club

so you are both walking into school together holding hands, laughing and teasing each other

this causes everyone around you too do a double take because the two school flirts?? are flirting?? with??? each other?!?!?!

*cue hysteria*

by the end of the day everyone knows, because neither of you are really trying to keep it a secret and the team find it hilarious

why?

because your fans look so depressed and it’s amusing to everyone else (especially since yahaba was in yours)

when you go to actually meet the team, matsuhana flirt, and flirt and flirt

they just keep flirting with you and worse?

YOU keep flirting back

this makes oikawa get very pouty, to the amusement of the team

and he decides to be petty, he ignores you afterward

so your there trying to get his attention and he just straight up ignores you, doesn’t make excuses or anything either

so you go up to him, in front of the WHOLE team and kiss him, hard

let’s just say this attention seeking bastard might start faking being jealous now…

iwaizumi never did end up apologizing for running into you

Anyway I seriously hope i fulfilled your expectations! i was checking during editing and this is my longest post so far! Please guys if you have requests don't be shy! i'm really friendly and will do almost anything!

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #aoba johsai x reader #aoba johsai #sejoh #sejoh x reader #oikawa headcanons #oikawa #oikawa x reader #iwaizumi hajime #oikawa tooru

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writingmyanxietyaway · 4 years

Text

Doctor Love | Berlin

Requested by anon: So okay okay, I had this idea a few days ago, and since your requests are open I'm gonna slide in real quick :)is it okay if I request a little scenario where like, u know when Berlino does that dumb thing of self sacrificing becuz he's gonna die anyway? What if his girlfriend/reader has been searching for a cure for his illness and before he can get himself killed she goes in the bank and tells him and somehow they manage to escape from the bank? No pressure if the idea doesn't appeal u! Ily!!

Word count: 2.4k

Warning: spoilers of season 2! maybe swearing, mentions of violence, guns, the whole shabang

Note: not my gif! Okay, so I’m in love with this request!! It took me a little longer to write, because I wanted to get it perfect. Let me just say I’m not a doctor, so I have no idea if there is a cure for the illness he has, but Imma try! Hope you like it darling! Thanks for the request and love you too! xx

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

‘I’m sick. I have an illness called Helmer’s myopathy. It’s a muscle degenerative disease, which means that my muscles get weaker and weaker until my heart muscles can’t keep up anymore. If I’m lucky I have four months left,’ he told you like it was nothing; like it was answer to a question on a pubquiz. He held your hands in his, knowing it would break your heart and dreams of a future with him.

‘Andrés..’ you whispered, ‘why didn’t you tell me sooner?’ He sighed and gently shook his head.

‘It’s uncurable, princess. I have medicine that I have to take every few hours that make it somewhat acceptable, but I wanted you to know.’

You visibly broke down. Even though you were always someone who never wanted to show any emotion besides happiness and anger, but this was different shit. Your hands were shaking, body trembing as you tried to understand that everything you had imagined yourself doing with Andrés would be nothing more than a dream. It simply didn’t make sence. Being together with Andrés for more than six months, you’d hoped he would be more open towards you and share what was going on with him. You felt your throat closing up, eyes filling with tears.

This illness was just the cherry on top for him. The man had done terrible things in his life and could mark off just about any sin in the Bible. Stealing, robbing, charming women. Karma was getting her way back to him and all he could do was accept his fate. It came across as cold to you. All this time you planned this whole life for you two together, but he knew that would never come true.

‘No! This is cruel! You let me believe we would be together for the rest of our lives, hell, you told me you wanted to marry me when you got out! You knew even if you made it out alive, you wouldn’t live longer than summer. You’ve done some terrible things in your life Andrés, but this..’ you exclaimed, throwing your hands in the air. ‘This is just rude.’

The sadness you felt quickly turned into anger as you kept yelling at him, hitting him in the chest. He knew better than to interrupt you and tell you that everything would be okay, because he just now realized it wouldn’t be okay. He would die and leave you behind. Period.

‘I knew you were a self-centred bastard! You always play these mind games and somehow make everyone get on their knees for you! Is that all I am to you, huh?! Some game to find how far you can go? Because let me tell you Andrés, this game is finished. Game. Over,’ you hissed. You threw your hands up in the air and stormed out.

That was more than four weeks ago. In the meantime you had spoken again and this time the anger had disappeared and just cried. That was all you could do. You had accepted that you would most likely be a widdow before summer and that broke your heart, but you also wanted to fight. Andrés told you there was no cure to his illness, but there was hope burning inside you and you did everything in your power to still find that cure. Whether it meant getting no sleep for the next few weeks or not.

Andrés would soon be leaving for the big robbery and you had spent every second of the day being with him and holding him close. The times where you would have rough sex the entire day were over; it was now making love. He was gentle to you, making you breakfast in bed even though he could easily ask one of the maids to do it and even buying you nice dresses in colours that matched your eyes.

Without him knowing, you contacted one of your best friends who worked at the lab of a university and asked him if he could do more research on medicine for muscle-related illnesses. He said he had some information that he wanted to share with you, but that meant you had to visit him.

‘Babe, I’m gonna have to run to Macy really quickly. Think you’ll be okay?’ you asked. Macy was your sister and seven months pregnant, so it often happened that you visited her to help her with something. That way he wouldn’t suspect a thing. You had no idea how he did it, but he always seemed to know what you were up to.

‘Of course, princess. Give her a kiss for me, okay?’ he winked, giving you a kiss on the lips. You lightly slapped his chest.

‘Be back for dinner,’ you told him. Out of the blue, he grabbed you by your waist and pulled you against him. He leaned down and you could feel his breath on your neck. Shivers send down your spine.

‘Your ass looks great in those jeans,’ he whispered, placing a light kiss on your neck and slapping you on the bottom. You giggled and pushed yourself away from him.

‘Bye!’ you called, waving him goodbye and walking out the door. You soon arrived at the university and was met by your friend who was waiting for you outside. You greeted each other with a hug and quickly got to work. He told you about the compositions of the different medications and what effect they had on what part of the muscle.

‘Isn’t there any way we could find a way to make this medicine last longer? This is the medication he uses now to keep it under control for a few hours,’ you gave him a syringe filled with the medicine and he studied it. He took the bottle from you and studied it contents.

‘There are some elements of this medicine that also appear in this,’ he pointed to a beaker filled with a milky white liquid. ‘I should be able to find a connection that makes this last longer.’

‘Is there anything I can do? I feel so hopeless not being able to do anything,’ you mumbled.

‘You did a great job already by giving me this. Is it okay if I keep the syringe? I need something that we know works, even if it isn’t permanent,’ he said. You nodded and waved your hand.

‘Of course. Anything to help find a cure. Thank you for doing this. I can’t even explain how much this means to me. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I hadn’t at least tried,’ you told him. He turned to look at you and gave you a hug.

‘That’s what I’m here for. If I find anything, I’ll let you know, okay?’

It was the fifth day of the heist. Andrés had been gone for almost three weeks now, being busy with training and all. He obviously knew about the plan already, but being the passionate man he is, wanted to go over every single detail again. He couldn’t afford making any mistakes. The goodbye was hard. You cried loudly as he held you close, whispering little reasuring words in your ear. You were thankful for Sergio. He kept you updated on everything that was going on, but didn’t tell you any details or steps of the plan. You didn’t want to either; it was scary enough without knowing how everything went down in there.

It was now wednesday and you were sitting on the couch. You hadn’t heard from Sergio in two days and it started to worry you. The news wasn’t exactly uplifting too. Andrés’ face was displayed all over every tv channel, name heard on every radio station and seen on every wall in Spain. Your heart fell even lower when the news announced he was sick. The smug inspector worked on you nerves as she spoke about him like he was an animal. Sure, the man had done things that broke the law, but he never killed anyone nor hurt any woman.

‘Fuck,’ you cursed under your breath. Suddenly your phone rang and the called ID showed Alex, your friend at the lab. Your heartbeat increased and you were anxious about what he was about to say. You picked up the phone and heard his loud voice. A tearful smile made it’s way on your face as you heard him say those three words you so desperately longed to hear.

‘I have it! I have the cure!’ he yelled. You jumped up and raced towards the university where he was already waiting on you. The hug you shared was one filled with hapiness.

‘Okay, he needs to inject this like he did with the other medicine. This is enough to last until november. I have some of it still in the lab so I produce more and work more on the duration of it. I can’t promise it will work for the rest of his life, but for now it’ll do,’ he spoke. You said goodbye and rushed to Sergio’s hide-out. The medicine you held in your hands would give him at least eight more months and until then Alex had a better cure. You burst through the doors and Sergio jumped up. You could see the whole that had been dug in the floor. You turned to Sergio and burst into tears of joy.

‘He’s not leaving us, Sergio. He’s staying. With you, with me. He’s staying,’ you rushed. Your heart was beating loudly in your ears and the rush of adrenaline was so high, you thought you’d pass out. Your words seemed to land as he slowly moved towards you. His gaze fell on the little box you were holding and his eyes flickered from the black object to the hole in the floor and tears welled in his eyes.

‘I have to get it to him, Sergio. He needs to know there is something out here for him. You and I both you the man is up to something. Let me go in there, please!’ you pleaded. He quickly snapped out his trance and gave you a red suit and black boots to finish the look.

‘When you get to the indside, wait inside the vault. No one knows you’re getting in and that way you won’t get attacked. Take this with you,’ he pushed a fake gun in your hands and you placed it in the holster on your thigh. ‘Goodluck.’

When you were about to enter, you heard a lot of noise coming from the computer. The police had broken in. He nodded to you and you ran as quickly as you could through the tunnel. When you entered the vault, you were met by two people. A young man with dark hair and a woman with blonde curls. They looked suprised to see you and the man pointed a gun at you.

‘Serg- El Professor send me. I’m Berlin’s girl,’ you quickly said, stumbling over your words. Sure, you were carrying a gun with you, but it was a fake. Having a real gun pointed at you made you nearly shit your pants. When the girl pointed out I was carrying a gun and came through the only way out, he lowered the gun and craweled through the tunnel. It wasn’t hard to find Berlin as he came running in the direction of where you were coming from. You caught the stares of the other people who nodded at you and went on with their duties.

‘Berlin, babe!’ you called, making him freeze.

‘What are you doing here, princess? It’s not safe for you. They’ll come running through those halls any minute now,’ he sternly said, turning around and grabbing you firmly by the arm. ‘Leave, now!’

‘No, I’m not leaving. I came here to tell you I found a cure,’ you breathed and everyone around you froze. ‘You didn’t know, but I’ve been doing research for a medicine and I’ve found it. The first dose should work ‘till November. After that I’ll have a much stronger and longer working dose.’

‘Princess, I told you to leave,’ he said more firmly this time. You didn’t move.

‘Like I said, I’m not leaving. Not without you anyway. You promised me a life that I could only dream of and now we can have it. I love you with all my heart. I can’t loose you. Not now, not ever.’ Tears cascaded down your cheeks as you begged the man you loved so much to trust you and come with you.

‘Leave, now. Helsinki, take her with you,’ he ordered the bulky man behind you, but he didn’t move.

‘Love is a passionate thing, Berlin. I don’t know this woman, but she found a cure for your uncurable disease. That’s literally doing the impossible. You have five seconds to decide to leave with this woman or I’ll take you with me. Don’t look away when you have everything in front of you,’ he spoke. He turned his attention to you and you gave him a grateful smile. He smiled back and nodded.

‘Will you please come with me? If you don’t come with me, I’ll stay with you. I either die with you or leave with you, you decide,’ you stated. He looked at the box you held in your hand and realized how much he loved you. Moving towards you, he passionately smashed his lips to yours. The kiss wasn’t filled with lust, but relief and gratefulness.

‘As soon as we walk out those doors, I’m marrying you. No exceptions,’ he mumbled against your lips. You nodded and held him closer.

‘That was the plan.’

You heard the policemen run behind you and Helsinki was quick to throw a grenade. Berlin pushed you all inside and bowed your head in his chest. Once the grenade had exploded, you all rushed back and blew up the tunnel. You joined Sergio and Helsinki in the back of the truck, leaning against Andrés.

‘There are no words to explain how much I love you, princess. No words.’

The two of you left to Cuba, where you got married soon after you arrived. The wedding was on the beach, your white dress flowing around you while you stared at the man you could finally call your husband. Only a month after the wedding you surprised Andrés by telling you were pregnant.

‘You are my heart, my soul and my everything. Thank you for being my wife and everything I’ve ever wished for.’

.. .. .. .. ..

Berlin Taglist

@nkjktk - @michaellangdonenthusiast - @hamiltonsofcrap

#la casa de papel #lcdp imagine #berlin x reader #berlin imagine #pedro alonso #lcdp x reader #lcdp

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rabbithub · 3 years

Text

Haunted Painting!AU: Day 4

(Oh? I make Diavolo have empathy? I make Diavolo have empathy like the doggo? Oh! Oh! Jail for author! Jail for author for one thousand years!

Also, (artist almost dies rip))

"First, you have to find five treasures." Diavolo explained. "You know what these treasures are."

"...Vanitas, right?" You ask. "I read up on those-"

Your phone buzzes. You know your devilish muse doesn't mind you looking at your phone at this point.

[Owner][Day 4]

'Vanita paintings are a style of still life paintings that represent the emptiness of life. These motifs may seem mundane, but can mean something profound. Many of these motifs have many interpretations, but I have a few examples.'

'A musical instrument (i.e. trumpet) means transience of life.'

'A candle or lamp represents life's fleeting length.'

'A book or scroll means the futility of earthly knowledge.'

'A crown or jewel means vanity of wealth.'

'Lastly, a skull may mean mortality or death.'

'Ah... I'm a fra id I am to o la te, m y sp iri t is at ex ha u st ed. He ru le s ov er de a th as the re ap er hi ms e lf, an d no ne ca n be st hi m at hi s ga me.'

'I wi ll at th e le as t gi ve hi m a pl ac e in my ga ll er y af t er a ll th is. An ar t is t sh ou ld fi nd h im th er e.'

'Ye s, my bo y. I ha ve a ni ce, da rk ro om f or yo u.'

[Landlord][Day 1]

'I don't know what possessed me. I took it.'

'I ended up here, in this familiar studio. Where I found this painting. I'm in a nightmare.'

'So why did I take it? Will I see my family again? He whispers to me, perhaps confusing me for the woman who's studio I plundered the painting from. Please, lord. Forgive me. I wish I had paid mind to my art lessons.'

You put your phone away and set to work. You go back to your room to sketch the lamp, but decided to take it with you as well when you finished. "It might come in handy." You muse, exiting the room.

You sketched a crown hidden in the vines, the trumpet held by a cherub, and a skull on a shelf in the studio. You notice a person shaped stain below the easel, but broke focus away to go through a door.

The room is dark, and you can't see. "Wait, my soul lights up when I paint, right?" You ask yourself. "Then I can use that to light the lamp." Gathering your soul onto the brush, you light the lamp. You feel a little weak and your chest hurts a little, but you can see better. There's a diary in the fireplace, and you sketch it before picking it up.

...There's a missing spot there? You set your dimming lamp to see frames of almost similar paintings, with a empty space between them.

You phone buzzes...

No matter how many I paint, nothing compares to him, nothing is his equal.

My time is running thin, please paint him before my time runs out.

You rush out before the light fades, the door slamming shut behind you. "I...I found all five." You say, turning to face Diavolo.

"...your face looks pale." He states. "What happened in that-"

"It's-" You sigh as you cut him off, looking down. "It's not really important right now." When you look up again, the canvas showed his feet.

"Put everything you gathered on the bed." He says, that worried tone still in his voice. "I'll let you choose the colors this time."

You raise the paintbrush, your soul alighting it...

Somehow, you felt an ache in your heart. Something didn't feel right...

You have been calling all morning, but your sister is not answering. You thought she overslept, and started to do your laundry.

Quickly, you reached your car and drove to the hospital.

You finish painting the motifs, trembling; you picked gold for the trumpet and crown, purple for the book, and red for the lamp and skull.

"Bene." Diavolo answers. "Take a short break while I prepare."

"O-okay." You respond, stepping away from the canvas and sitting down. You realized that you were feeling drained- perhaps painting was draining you life away? 'I'm not going down without a fight.' You tell yourself, looking up as you see Diavolo with the motifs surrounding him.

"I will hide one of the treasures, and you will paint it here." He explains as you stand up. "Shall we begin?"

You step up to the canvas, nodding. "Yes." You answer. "Let's."

You hold back from speeding as you drive to the hospital, the feeling growing worse and worse. You have to get there as quickly as possible. "Hang on, sis." You say under your breath. "I'm coming."

You pant growing more exhausted. The first round was over. You watch as Diavolo looks you over. "We've only just started." He says, his voice soft with concern.

"I'm getting tired." You say, looking at your phone.

[Researcher][Day 4]

'I've heard of spirits going into the possessions they loved in life- I've collected a good number of these items, as a matter of fact. Perhaps these motifs appear due to being a manifestation of his memories, and I'm starting to realize-'

'Of course! This may have to do with the painting's painting as well! But where is her presence in all this? My body is getting weak from all this?'

'Somehow, my soul is stronger than my body is... I have a feeling the black splotch might have to do with the artist. I will rest for now, but whoever is next might be able to lift this curse. Maybe I'll wake up again, one way or another.'

The dying text looked different this time, not glitchy but... Different. "You know, the others haven't been able you live through this." You answer. "You'll live forever, but I can't." Your voice sounded resigned, making Diavolo stare at you with indifference-

No. This wasn't indifference, it is concern. He seems to shake it off. "... let's begin the next round." He said, sounding... remorseful?

You nod, lifting your alighted brush.

You burst through the hospital doors to the receptionist's desk, rattling off you were a relative and your sister's room number. The receptionist calms you down and says she'll talk to the doctor.

You sit in the waiting room, nervous. You felt like throwing up, but you hadn't eaten anything. It felt like forever until you saw a chaplain approached you. You heart drops.

You barely process the events; you were explained what had happened, you were taken to your sister's bedside where she was covered with a white sheet, and found yourself outside the room, blindsided. You notice-

It's him. You have a suspicion about it as he seems to weep openly to the doctors, but as he looked over to you, he smirked.

When there was a quiet moment with just the two of you, you whisper; "Why?"

He- the bastard that your sister was like once in love with until she realized what a monster he was, is still smirking as he gives his answer:

"If I can't have her, no one can."

You almost collapse, almost exhausted. Your brush is dimly lit, earning you a concerned look from Diavolo. "Well, it's over for me." You say, your tone somewhat defiant. "You won- I'm sorry you're nowhere close to finished."

He looks at you, his arrogant look seemingly to have faded. "You... You're not giving up this easily, are you?" He asks.

"I wouldn't if it wasn't for my body." You answer, focusing on the inky, body shaped stain on the floor. "My only other regret is that sister is going to be sad seeing me so soon- oh well, I guess it's a win either way."

"..." Diavolo doesn't say anything, for a moment. "You and a couple others listened to me- and you never gave up. You remind me of another artist, she seemed to be as morose as you. I wonder where she went..."

Your phone buzzes. "I think I know." You answer, knowing that soon after, you'd join your sister...

'My fellow artist? Will you listen? Will you let me regale you a tale of this portrait of mine, of the vivid, horrible week we spent together, and our'

"No."

No? You look up, seeing Diavolo holding a skull with a dim flame in it; the flame growing brighter. "I'm not letting you die like this, with neither of our ends of this unfulfilled." He says, his eyes full of angry tears. "We're going back to the beginning."

You were confused; he was trying to torment you the past few days, and now he was trying to save you?! "Just rest now." He said, eyes defiant to your possible death. "I will fix this."

You pass out as you hear a woman's voice speak;

"...and of her final days...?"

#diavolo #jjba #jjba diavolo #death palette #matsuro palette #haunted painting!au #tw: death mention #tw: implied murder

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daddy-daichis · 4 years

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Yesterday the very beautiful and talented @fuwari-s tagged me in this game and since that post is already really long i figured id make a new one lol (Also thank you for tagging me, it made me so happy)

The Game: Tag your 2D lovers + the other trend I saw yesterday and wanted to do which is Would you actually date them IRL. So ill put that under the cut because it is a lot.

HQ: Atsumu, Daichi, Issei, Bokuto, Hinata, and Kyoutani

BNHA: Bakugou, Denki, and Hawks

JJK: Sukuna and Mei Mei

Others: Kagami from KNB, Levi and Jean from AOT, and Mikoto Suoh from K

So if you want to know if i would date them irl that is below the cut lol

As for tagging... if you want to do it :) @eijirosriot @bokutosnumberonefan @hinosreis @tetsus-kitten @sugawarakoushihoe @mynameisjackattack and anyone else who wants to do one or both of these challenges.

Alright so would i date these men (+ mei mei) in real life. Short answer is yes lmao. Long answer, with some headcanons that may or may not venture into 18+ category but only slightly. all aged up to be my age which is 26.

Atsumu - PLEASE, YES

we would be so chaotic together but he would also be really loving. As long as he can still prioritize me in a relationship, not over volleyball, just as much, then we will be golden. We would have such a good time and i feel like we would have a lot of fun bickering, which i really enjoy. Play fighting as a form of foreplay, if you will lmao. We’d probs be friends in HS and then get together after he starts playing for MSBY and he is secured in his position (and himself tbh). I just love this cocky bastard. he also gives me switch vibes and as a switch, i love that for me.

Daichi - YES

All i need is to be wrapped in his arms on the daily and i would be happy. Man would know how to take care of me and that is all. Love of my life, too good for this world. Wholesome husband. He would be able to manage my crazy side and chill me out when i get to anxious. I would want to be bratty just to get him to drop his good guy routine sometimes and I feel like he would like that.

Issei - YES

Funeral home employee can get it. Matsukawa Horse cock Issei can whisk me off my feet and straight into bed. we would have a lot of fun picking on oikawa together (out of love of course) but we would balance each other out a lot. His darker humor would go well against my lighter humor. Also I feel like our level of hotness is pretty comparable... like we aren't the prettiest in the friend group but still good (if that makes sense)

Bokuto - YES

Big ball of sunshine to light up my day, he would literally fuck the sad out of me every day I just know it. Like atsumu, as long as I am a priority to him itll work out. We also kind of have the same sad moods so I feel like we could either both just curl up on the couch together and watch a movie or bring the other out of a funk easily. I love this giant himbo so much.

Hinata - most likely yes

Pretty much the same reasons as bokuto but I feel like I would get drained of his energy faster, so he would def have to cuddle me more. For everyone else so far I can imagine being high school sweethearts, but with hinata i think he wouldnt settle down until later, or even start dating so it would probably be a lot of pining and watching him from the side lines for a while, which would be really hard tbh. but the way he would smile at me after a match would make it worth it so...

Kyoutani - Hard YES

I love a boy with anger issues, what can i say... (cough couch my irl husband with anger issues couch couch) I would love to be his weak spot and the one person he would go to to help him not feel angry anymore. I think that my fun personality would help him to unbox himself a bit. I just want to give him cuddles and a place to feel accepted. id also i KNOW hes a monster in bed...

Bakugou - FUCKING HARD YES, PLEASE

if he was real the things i would do to and for him... A lot like kyoutani i would want to give him a place where hes accepted, and a place where he is unconditionally loved. I would be able to handle his misguided anger and calm him down and give him space. I headcanon that hes very cuddly in private to just his S/O which is something that i love. I love his lil smirk and would do anything to get him to smirk at me. As long as he is able to set me as a priority it would work out, but that would be what he struggles with so it would be a thing we would have to talk about. But I also feel that once you say something about it he would check in with you because of course he has to be the best bf/husband. I feel like I could talk for hours about him so Ill just wrap it up by saying that I love me a passionate man who would probs be a lil possessive, and I would use that to my advantage.

Denki - GOD YES

I really do think that denki and I are soulmates. we are both the perfect blend of funny, pervy, while still being soft. I feel like there would be a lot of mutual pining at first but he would end up the golden retriever gamer boy to my alt bisexual and thats just the perfect pairing. We would pull so much shit and then get away with it because thats just us being us. I see us being scolded by bakugou a lot for the stupid shit we would pull. Also late night drives in his shitty tuned car to taco bell while we sing alt rock songs from the 2010s. also the switch vibes are immaculate.

Hawks - Probably

So it would honestly depend a lot on what version of hawks.. him in the hero commission is a no, because he wouldnt be able to be honest with me about a lot of stuff. Like his name, or when i can see him again, and that would give me too much anxiety. When hes free of them and is actually allowed to be himself I think it could work then. I know that he of course wants to still be the best hero, so he would have the same problems as bakugou with finding a balance, but if he wants to i think he could. He would also have a lot of trauma from his relationship with his parents and the commission so I dont know if he would be able to give his love away as freely as he wants so we could get therapy together. I love that for us. But i would happily wake up next to this beautiful birb man if he would have me.

Sukuna - A hesitant yes

so.. the anger issues that ive mentioned before.. yes. I would like sukuna. I would be his lil bride and sit on his lap on his throne as long as he didnt kill my loved ones or my cats lmao. I would also be ok with being his and itadoris gf while hes living in itadoris head. being with him is just asking for an unhappy ending tho, whether its a life always on the run, or someones trying to kill me, or someones trying to kill him, or hes trying to kill someone. But yes i would like to be with him but that would mean sacrificing a lot.

Mei Mei - god yessssss..

Please Mei Mei step on me and make me ur lil house wife. I see us living in a pent house apartment with the most breathtaking view of the Tokyo skyline. I would want for nothing and she could take me where ever she wanted and i would just follow her around with heart eyes.

Kagami - YES

my basketball husband! i love him and would love to be loved by him. Id follow him wherever. He would take care of me and is just so dreamy.. also i guess the mild anger issues.. but hes really not that bad. He would just be such a good s/o. He would cook us nice dinners, wed have a few cats, and he would carry me around a lot because hes so strong. While were on the topic of strong... his stamina... everyone on this list probably has good if not great stamina... but kagami just hits different..... have you seen him in the zone? have you seen his thighs? his sex zone has got to be incredible.

Levi - Yes

I was going to say it depends, but really it doesn't... if were in the aot universe and hes my captain and I fall in love with him u can bet ur ass im gonna try and get with him because i could die at anytime. if its some au where he is here in our universe and somehow we meet... like of course im gonna be in love with him. our height difference isnt too bad, im only like an inch or 2 taller than him. I think we would both have a great time together. I would make him laugh, and he would help me clean, because lord knows I hate cleaning. BUT i hate cleaning because its something that I always have to do alone, and I feel like levi would have us be cleaning together like he makes the scouts do. and hes just so sexy...

Jean - big yes

This beautiful handsome man... idk what to even say about him. Hes strong, funny, handsome, cocky, but very much full of love. would love to run away from the world with him. I feel like if he was in love with me before *tries not to give away spoilers* the marco incident (?) that after he would become very clingy and attached and im ok with that. There would have to be lots of cuddles and reassurances and i just want to see him happy and not at war, with both real life people and himself... id give him the best kisses and he would become addicted to them.

Mikoto - No? But maybe...

I feel like we could be.. but if you watched the show then you know.. But i would love to be Homra’s princess TBH. No one would mess with me or they would have to face the wrath of my big fire boyfriend and his whole ass gang. But on the other hand I feel like Mikoto wouldnt allow himself to fall in love, so it would probably be a hush hush topic. everyone knows the boss and I are in an entanglement, but they cant talk about it. Then Anna starts asking questions to Mikoto and he has to come clean to her, which would be so cute. He tells her is a secret but she doesn't care lmao. in conclusion, I would want to, but I dont think he would let me.... Maybe friends with benefits tho....

............................................................................................

ok if you read all this im officially in love with you. Please take my heart.

This took me like 2 hours to do because I love thinking about it so much. if you have any thoughts about any of this hop into my dms or comment on this because id love to hear them (especially if you think i belong with one more than the others lmao).

#i cant believe i spent 2 hours on this.#im just so in love with 2d characters #about me

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four-loose-screws · 4 years

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FE8 Novelization Translation - Chapter 3, Section 1

If you would like to start from the beginning, read a missed part, etc., click here!

FE Game Script Translations - FE Novel Translations - Original FE Support Conversations

If you are interested in donating to support my work, please check out my Ko-fi here. Thank you!

———————————

I call this a “section” because it is not a separate part of the chapter in the book, but divided from the rest of the chapter by a scene break.

———————————

Chapter 3: The Stolen Bracelet

The Grado Army did not attack for a significant period of time, allowing Eirika and her army’s mountain journey to progress smoothly.

Whenever the soldiers began to look tired, they stopped to take a break. Eirika was impatient and, if it was possible, did not want to do so until they arrived at Renvall Castle, but she knew that would have an effect on the soldiers' morale. Though it frustrated her to stop, they really needed to rest.

Two days after leaving Ide Village, while taking their evening break, Eirika stepped away from Seth, Garcia, and the others, who were all chatting, and went on a walk by herself.

The white moon was just starting to rise from behind the mountaintops. Talking with her allies was fun, but the moonrise was so beautiful that it made her want to get some fresh air.

Once she was all alone, she was unsurprised to find herself thinking about her brother. 'What is he doing now? Is he looking up at the white moon, just as I am?'

She knew well just how strong her brother was. She didn't think he could be captured or injured, but… considering the situation he was in, she was very nervous.

'Please let him be safe until we catch up to him…' She said to herself as if praying to the moon, while she continued walking along.

Suddenly, something bumped into her from behind.

"Eeek…!" The force of the impact almost made her trip.

"Whoops, sorry 'bout that!"

She heard a voice say with a laugh. It came from a man of small stature wearing a cape… no, after getting a second glance at him, she realized that he must still be a teenager. The next thing she heard were his footsteps as he quickly ran away from her.

He was probably a traveler, and likely didn't notice her and bumped into her because it was starting to get dark.

"Are you alright, Lady Eirika!?" Seth rushed up to her. It seemed he'd worried when she vanished without a word, and came looking for her.

"Yes, someone just bumped into me, is all."

Seth furrowed his brow and looked at her. "What happened to your bracelet?"

"My bracelet…?"

'It’s right here,' she raised her arm to say, but was instead surprised. The bracelet she should have been wearing was gone.

Eirika was at a loss. She had no idea when she might have lost it. Her father had given it to her when she was young and told her to treasure it, but because she was always wearing it, on the contrary, she was always unaware that it was there.

"Oh… maybe that man I bumped into earlier stole it? Everything happened so quickly…"

"We will chase after him." Seth said in a panic so very rare of him that Eirika held him back. "Wait! My bracelet certainly is precious to me, but we don't have the time right now. We should put saving Brother over thieves, shouldn’t we? Let's hurry!"

"No, that bracelet is…" Seth looked like he was going to say something, but they didn't have time for that, either. He looked in the direction the thief had run off in and said, "Either way, we must get it back. We will chase after him, Lady Eirika!"

He did not wait for her answer, instead returning to where the army was resting. He cut their break time short, and seemed determined to put all their efforts into chasing after the thief.

Eirika didn't understand how Seth could be acting this way. It wasn't like him at all.

The bracelet was certainly a valuable gift from her father, but their goal was to find Ephraim, and they likely had no time to waste. He was even cutting their break time short despite stressing how important it was...

Eirika didn’t know anything about the history of the bracelet. Since her Father worried about it so much, she figured it must be important to the royal family, and never asked about where it had come from.

But Seth might know. He was the man her father trusted most, so there was a chance her father would tell him something even she did not know.

'I'll ask him after we get it back, and he calms down.' Eirika decided, then chose to first chase after the thief.

"What dummy has a bracelet stolen right off their arm!? You must have totally spaced out!” Ross said in complete astonishment when he heard the news.

Franz came up from behind him and whacked him upside the head.

Eirika's face turned red with embarrassment as she tried to explain herself. "He bumped into me so suddenly that I couldn’t think… U-um, I certainly was careless, but…"

"It's not your fault, Lady Eirika! That thief was just really good!" Franz angrily covered for Eirika.

Ross decided it was best to stop teasing her. "So it was a really good thief, huh? Then he musta been one of Bazba's men."

"Bazba…?"

They're a group of really violent bandits that causes a lot of trouble around here. I think they're the ones that attacked my village, too." Ross' face clouded over with regret.

Garcia, who was beside him, continued the explanation. "Bazba's Bandits aren't just any old group of bandits. The guys that attacked Ide Village weren't very strong, but we can't underestimate them. Their numbers at the base will be great, so they will be a difficult foe to face."

"Then let's brace ourselves for a difficult fight." They decided that they would leave quickly while it was still night.

Along the way, they noticed a person standing by themself in front of their path.

They went on guard, in case this person was another member of the bandits, though they did not appear to be one.

As they approached the person, they saw the face of a timid girl looking at them helplessly.

She carried a big bag on her back. To be traveling alone at this time, and in the middle of the mountains, was far too dangerous.

Just as Eirika was about to call out to her, she timidly approached them, and looked up at Seth and Eirika, both atop his horse.

"Um… excuse me… would you happen to be… a mercenary group?"

Her straight pink hair fell just below her ears. She was trembling with fear, so it was difficult to tell, but she seemed to have very cute features.

Eirika instinctively turned her attention towards the girl and asked, “Who are you?”

The girl looked at Eirika with pleading eyes, then suddenly screamed, "Please help me, I beg of you! I… I tried to stop Colm… but he wouldn't listen…! At this rate, Colm's gonna… Colm's gonna…!" Tears slowly welled up in her large eyes, making Eirika panic.

"Uh, um, please, calm down. I don't really know what you’re talking about… ‘Colm?’”

"Oh, ah, I-I'm sorry!" The girl wiped away her tears and began to explain.

"My name is Neimi. I lived in Lark Village near here."

"You lived there… what do you mean by that?"

"The village is gone. A group of bandits burned it down… and killed all of the other villagers… only two people made it out alive… me, and my childhood friend, Colm…"

"So Lark Village was destroyed too? Dammit…!" Ross had been listening in, and was enraged by what he heard.

Neimi wiped away more tears, signaling that she had been hit by another wave of sadness as she talked.

"My village was burned down, too. It was Bazba's bandits that did it."

"Oh… th-that's terrible. They're the ones who attacked my village, too. I heard their hideout is inside this mountain. So Colm… he said he was gonna take back the treasure the bandits stole, then went all by himself… E-Even though I tried to stop him! I told him it's dangerous! That his life is more important than treasure…!"

She seemed to be the type of person who cried easily, even under normal circumstances. And once she started crying, she almost couldn’t stop. Eirika felt lost, but wanted to do something to cheer the girl up. "The bandits stole something important from us, too, and we were just pursuing them. Surely we can help each other out!"

"R-Really!? Thank you! I can't save Colm all on my own… so I was waiting for someone who looked strong to pass by. Thank goodness… Oh, but, um, I don't have very much money, so I can't pay you and all your mercenaries enough…"

Ross answered faster than Eirika could. "We don't need anythin' like that! And we ain't really a mercenary group! This person is actually…"

"Anyway, let's go! Can you lead us there, Neimi?" Eirika frowned and glared at Ross.

Neimi was nothing more a random girl they'd crossed paths with, but Eirika still thought it best not to reveal her identity. She knew that if Neimi became associated with her, the princess, and Grado found out, Neimi would be in danger.

"Over here!" Securing help seemed to have calmed Niemi, as she continued down the mountain road with light footsteps.

‐

When Eirika's army heard the words "bandit hideout," they imagined something like a run-down shack, but it was actually a very impressive building.

It was a mansion made of stone built into the mountain. The bandits must have collected a large sum of money from their constant pillaging, as the hideout was so big and lavish that it could compare to the homes belonging to wealthy merchants that one might find in the middle of a town.

"Neimi, please hide somewhere safe. We're going to break in and fight now." Eirika said.

Neimi began to fidget and answered, "Um… Actually, I was wondering if you guys would take me with you."

"What? But it's dangerous! This is going to be a very difficult fight!"

"I'm really good with a bow! Grandfather taught me how to use one when I was a child."

"Really?" Seth replied.

Neimi continued to fidget, but nodded her head deeply.

"What do you think, Lady Eirika? Our army is lacking in archers. If she fights with us, then we'll have the abilities we need to win."

"That is a good point…" But Eirika was still nervous.

No matter how you looked at her, Neimi did not seem like she could handle combat. Would such a pitiful girl who cried so easily really be able to fight against bandits?

“Please let me come! I want to do something to help you!"

But when Neimi looked up at her with determination on her face, Eirika couldn't say no. She nodded and said, "Then please provide support from the rear line. Do not go anywhere near the front. You wouldn’t stand a chance in direct combat.”

"I-I understand! I'll do my best!" Neimi excitedly pulled something out from the bag she was carrying on her back.

"Whoa, that’s so cool!" Ross, who'd been peeking in on the conversation, whistled.

Neimi had grabbed a small bow and a quiver. They looked handmade, but seemed sturdy and well crafted. It was clear just by the sight of both items that they were well used and had been mended many times. "This is a momento from my grandfather. He was a very good shot." Neimi said while putting the quiver on her back, then readying her bow.

She was so energetic now that she seemed like a different person from the crybaby they'd met. She looked as ready for battle as any trained soldier would be.

Eirika was impressed, and was now sorry for underestimating her. If her grandfather had been such a good archer, then he’d probably taught her everything from the basics onwards, giving them more than enough reason to believe that she’d be a valuable addition to their army.

First, Gilliam led his unit of armored knights as the front line. They used their weapons to break down the front door in the blink of an eye.

The enemy had not thought in the slightest that they might be attacked by such a large group. The guards rushed towards them, but were immediately eliminated by the knights.

Eirika and the others flooded in through the doorway. The battle immediately turned intense.

Neimi's performance far exceeded Eirika's expectations. She shot arrows in rapid succession from behind the main army, wounding their enemies.

The main army then rushed in and finished off their weakened foes.

"You're the real deal!" Neimi cheeks flushed red from Ross' praise.

When they had just about eliminated the first wave of enemies, Neimi suddenly gasped.

Eirika panicked and whirled around, thinking Neimi might have gotten hurt, but instead saw her rushing inside of a room. "N-Neimi!?"

There would likely be enemies inside. It was reckless for an archer, who couldn't fight in close combat, to go ahead all on their own.

Ross and Franz panicked and followed after her. Eirika defeated the last enemy in front of her and rushed ahead as well.

"Colm! You're safe, Colm!" Neimi shouted, then hugged someone rummaging around inside the room.

"Ack! Neimi!!" A young man with a stern face wearing a cape yelled out, sounding flustered.

The sight of him made Eirika freeze in her tracks.

She couldn't say it for sure, but… she had a feeling that he resembled the thief that stole her bracelet. It had been dark, and everything happened so quickly, but she remembered the silhouette of the thief's cape.

The man paid no attention to her, and started talking to Neimi. "What are you doing here!? Why would you just waltz into a place like this?"

"B-Because… I was worried about you…"

"You should worry more about yourself than me! Do you really think a group of bandits would do me in!?"

"B-But… I met this group of mercenaries, and asked them to help. So we came here together…"

"Mercenaries? You're being dumb again…" The young man said in a sulking tone, then looked at Eirika and the others. The color drained from his face, and he leapt up a foot into the air. "Uwahhhhhh! Why did you bring them here!?"

"Like I said, they're a mercenary group! …I brought them here to save you…"

"I-I don't know! I don't know anything! ...A-Anyway, we can talk later. I’ve already taken back all the stolen treasure, so let’s get out of here!” His shivering was undoubtedly suspicious.

"Are you…" Eirika walked up to him to confirm that he was indeed the thief.

However, the door opened right at that moment, and the bandits all rushed in to attack at once.

Eirika drew her sword and began to fight. The questioning would have to come later.

‐

The enemy's numbers were great, making for a tough fight, but Eirika’s army managed to win.

The room they’d fought in was now a mess of toppled chairs and crumbling walls, making for an unfortunate sight. In the corner was Neimi, who’d just caught Colm.

"Colm… I'm so happy you're safe… I… was so scared that I… couldn't stop imagining all the scary things that might happen…"

"Hey, you don't have to cry anymore. Look at this!" Colm pulled out something from within his cape and handed it to Neimi.

She wiped her tears and gasped. "This is… my mother's mirror…"

"It's an important keepsake, isn't it? And it isn't broken! Lucky, huh?"

"Even though I'd already given up on it… you came all the way here just to get it back, didn’t you? You didn’t tell me the details why you left… s-so I didn’t know anything at all, and…”

"Hey, I told you to stop crying!"

From what bits and pieces everyone else heard, Colm and Neimi’s conversation seemed to be a happy one.

However, Seth came up to them and said in a stern voice, "There's something I must discuss with you. I want you to give Lady Eirika back her bracelet."

Colm shivered and looked up at Seth.

Neimi also looked up at him, curious.

He seemed afraid to make eye contact with her, as he stood between them as he spoke. "Um, what are you talking about? Stop making stuff up… Whoa, hey, what are you doing!?" Colm saw Seth grab the handle of his sword, and jumped back. "Whoa! You’re messed up, man! I get it, I get it, I should give it back, right!?"

Seth lowered his hand.

Colm took the bracelet out from under his cape and reluctantly handed it over. "Look, I’m giving it back. Sorry, it was my bad."

"Why did you do something like that?"

"No reason… It's a pretty bracelet, and that girl wasn't paying attention to where she was going, so I couldn't help myself! That's all it was, I swear!"

"Colm! I can't believe you…!" Neimi covered her mouth with her hands, and her eyes widened. "You… you stole it? That bracelet? Colm, you've always stolen things, but at least the worst you did was take persimmons from my family's garden! Or so I thought! I never imagined you would do something this terrible…!"

"I-I just felt like it! I said I was sorry! I said it was wrong!"

With the bracelet back in the hands of its rightful owner, they no longer had any reason to stay at the hideout. Seth started to walk away from the two, but Colm called out to him from behind.

"W-Wait up! Hey, would you let Neimi and I go with you?"

"...What?"

"Our village burned down, so we’ve got nowhere else to go. Even if we try to work, there’s fighting goin' on everywhere. We'll become mercenaries, too, so please, take us with you!"

"Colm…" Neimi was shocked by Colm's sudden words, but she made eye contact with Seth and nodded forcefully. "I feel the same way! We don't have anywhere to go home to anymore. If we continue on this path and become nomads, Colm is sure to become a horrible villain that none can save!"

"...Hey!"

"Please! Please take us with you! We'll do anything!"

The two clung to Seth, and it was of course too much for him to handle. He looked up at the ceiling and sighed lightly. “Then you should try asking Lady Eirika directly. She’s the one you stole the bracelet from.”

“Lady Eirika? Whoa, that’s a really polite thing to call her.” A smirk spread across Colm’s face. “That girl is a higher rank than you? You guys are one weird group of mercenaries, to have a girl like that on top!”

“We are not mercenaries. I cannot tell you the details. You should hear them from Lady Eirika.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever you say…” Seth led Colm and Neimi to find Eirika.

‐

Eirika exited the dusty fort and took a deep breath of fresh air.

Seth had also left the fort, and came up to her with Colm and Neimi following behind him.

“Lady Eirika, I safely retrieved your bracelet.” Seth politely returned itto her, and she put it back on her wrist.

With her bracelet back in its rightful place, Eirika’s worries finally subsided with a sigh.

“Please be careful not to let it leave your possession ever again.”

Eirika could feel the extra weight Seth put into his tone. She stared at the bracelet and patted it gently. “Seth, what do you know about this bracelet? Maybe something my father told you?”

“About that… I guarantee that I will tell you when the time is right. It is still too early right now…” Seth’s words escaped his mouth hesitantly. He surely wouldn’t hide such information from her without reason.

Eirika concluded that the bracelet likely had a very deep meaning locked away within it, and nodded.

“I understand. But more importantly right now, Seth, is what those two are doing behind you?”

“They said they want to join us. What do you think?”

Colm and Neimi had listened to Seth and Eirika’s entire exchange with confusion on their faces.

Colm picked up on the hint that it was their turn to speak, and said, “Hey, sorry about your bracelet. But you were in the wrong too! You spaced out while wearing such a valuable piece of jewelry!”

“Colm!” Neimi hissed, but Colm just shrugged his shoulders.

“You’re right, I do regret letting my guard down. I’ll be more careful from now on. The more important issue right now is, are you two serious about wanting to join our army?” Eirika asked.

“Yeah we are! You can’t argue against how useful my skills are, and Neimi may be a crybaby, but her archery abilities are the real deal. We’re sure to help you out!” Colm puffed up his chest and beat his fist against it.

This young man was an impulsive thief, and looked like he was a bit of a rascal, but didn’t seem to be a bad person. And Neimi had already proven her skills with a bow to them. Eirika didn’t have any objections to them joining her army.

“I’d be very happy to have you with us. But you still seem to misunderstand… that we are not mercenaries.”

“Huh? Oh yeah, that messed up guy said the same thing. So if you ain’t mercenaries, then what are you? Considering the circumstances, I wouldn’t care what you are, even if you're pirates or a traveling circus!”

“No, neither of those are it, either. I am the princess of Renais, Eirika. And this is my trusted retainer, General Seth. The soldiers serving me are members of the Frelian Army that the king lent to me.”

Colm and Neimi both stared at Eirika with their mouths wide open.

Eirika felt embarrassed, but didn’t really fully understand why, and started laughing awkwardly.

“The… princess?”

“Seriously…?” Neimi stumbled back a few steps and placed her hands on her cheeks.

Tears welled up in her eyes, which once again flustered Eirika. She’d already gotten used to seeing Neimi cry, but still, she couldn’t help but feel as if she was the one who’d caused it this time. “Uh, um, there’s no reason for you to cry! Why are you…?”

“Colm stole the princess’ bracelet!? Are you going to execute him? Are you going to execute Colm!?”

“C’mon Neimi, don’t start worrying about things if you don’t know they’re gonna happen!” Colm yelled at the panicking and flailing Neimi, but he too seemed nervous, and looked at Eirika with trembling eyes.

Eirika couldn’t help but laugh. Her shoulders moved up and down as she shook her head. “No, you don’t have to worry about that! My bracelet was safely returned to me, so that’s all water under the bridge now. What I wanted to say is that, despite how we look, we’re an army, and we’re marching towards Grado territory. We’ll have to fight powerful enemies that bandits cannot compare to in strength. Are you ready to throw yourselves into such danger?”

Colm and Neimi looked straight at each other.

As one would expect from childhood friends, they could communicate their feelings to each other as if they were telepathic, and didn’t need to exchange words. They nodded in unison.

“Of course! The ones who originally ruined everything around here and caused the bandits to start attacking were the Grado Army’s soldiers, so…”

Colm nodded. “Yeah, I don’t like their way of doing things either! We’ll go with you!”

“Then let’s fight together!”

Afterwards, Eirika introduced them to the rest of the group.

The serious Franz, and others like him, could not accept the rude and thieving Colm at first, but changed their minds as they talked to him. Neimi was very shy, so she hid behind Colm in the beginning, but after Ross complimented her archery skills, she slowly became able to talk to everyone.

As Eirika was watching them from afar, Seth said to her, “People seem to gather around you, Lady Eirika.”

“...Huh?” She looked up at Seth in surprise. He looked upon Colm and the others, all laughing and chatting in high spirits, with kindness in his eyes.

“Both Garcia, who’d sworn off fighting forever, and Ross, and now these two new recruits… Everyone seems to be drawn to gather around you.”

"Surely they're not… We were just lucky and met them by chance…"

"Is that really the reason? You could also consider it to be not by chance, but by fate."

"Fate?"

"Lady Eirika, you have the power to attract and move people. It is different from both authority and military strength, and is a power all rulers should be born with, don’t you think?”

"I have no such power. Brother is the one who inherited it…" Eirika was completely taken aback.

When they were young, the one to attract people to them was her brother. Everyone naturally gathered around him and talked to him. On the other hand, she was quiet and always in his shadow when they were growing up.

"You understand now, yes? That you, Lady Eirika, have strength that is as great as even Lord Ephraim’s... I have a feeling that in the future, many more people will appear before you time and time again, and lend you their strength."

"That's great and all, but… my power alone is so small. If I wasn't being saved by those around me, I wouldn't be able to fight…"

But though she said that, Seth's words were more reassuring to her than anyone else's would be.

That was what she truly felt in her heart, but could not bring herself to say. Instead, she blushed and looked away.

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