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#AND AND X struggling and panicking so long with the fish only to realize he was the only one trying for that permit
httpwintersoldier · 1 year
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『jolly sailor bold. || shanks x reader』
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[PART 1 OF 4 - ONE PIECE'S KINKTOBER] - SHANKS VER.
[BUGGY VER.] [MIHAWK VER.] [SANJI VER.]
pairing: shanks x f!reader words: lenghtyyyyy summary: your curse leads you to a certain red-haired pirate that ends up taking you hostage for the rest of your life. And you very much agree with the decision. angst; smut; fluff.
You had been cursed as a young child. A devil fruit user with the ability of merging whatever they had in sight had taken you from your mother and merged you with a fish. A cruel revenge plan taken out on an innocent child that was made to forever swim the ocean.
That had obviously changed you, in more ways than physical. You couldn't establish contact with other fish, you couldn't make friends with humans (who thought you were a freak and a monster) and there were no other merefolk (not to your knowledge, at least.
The insanity of the lonely life had taken a toll on you. You had begun luring in lonely pirates and seamen, only to tear them apart and eat them before they realized you weren't human and tried to hunt you.
It had been going on for decades, although your body seemed to not age at all, more parts seemed to be growing in. At first it was just the long, scaly tail that had almost of a metallic blue and green shine to it. Then your eyes fully shifted to a charcoal black colour, and your hair followed suit. And, in the past years, your arms grew fins and your fingers grew webbing, both a pale green colour.
Your years of solitude were cut short when you found a certain red haired pirate.
The top of your head was above the water as you watched the ship. The captain had only one arm and three scars on his left eye. He seemed pretty goofy, along with the rest of the crew. You almost felt bad for killing them. Almost.
You dove down into the cold sea, scratching the bottom of the ship with your nails that were borderline claws at that point, until you found a tall, wide rock in the direction the boat was headed.
You sat on the rock, in such a way that it would hide your tail as best as possible, and began singing with your enchanting voice.
"My heart is pierced by Cupid, I disdain all glittering gold..."
You could hear a ruckus coming from the ship, several feet running on the old, creaking boards of the deck, and soon saw a plethora of men (dinner) standing on the edge, looking at you.
"...there is nothing can console me, but my Jolly Sailor bold..."
You heard more feet scaterring and several voices yelling "Behold Man!" and you smirked devilishly.
As the ship approached, the red haired male you had seen before jumped on the rock you sat on. Big mistake. He knelt down a couple steps away from you.
"Hello little lady, what are you doing here? Are you injured?" The man asked, with a deep voice.
You looked at him through your eyebrows and smirked.
"No, but you're about to be." You replied in a husky voice.
You lunged at the man, taking him under water with you so his mates wouldn't attack you and, as you dragged the male down to drown him, you made the mistake of looking him in the eye. And, as you did so, you felt yourself falter, and your body getting weaker, and weaker. Your eyelids began shutting against their will, and you saw black as your body went limp.
When you woke up, you were startled. Once you found you could, you opened your eyes widely and began struggling, looking for the man you'd caught who should've been floating somewhere next to you, only to find that you were stuck in some sort of wooden tub, your long tail hanging out of it.
You felt as if something was weighing on your chest and you couldn't breathe. Panic. You were panicking. Last time you felt that way you were being thrown in the water by your mother.
"You're awake." A deep voice said beside you.
You carefully looked to the side to find the red haired man you had taken into the sea with you.
"Who... who are you?... Why am I here? How am I here?..." You asked, more to yourself than him, with a dry throat.
You coughed after you did so, and the man handed you water. You looked at the glass carefully, not trusting it. The red haired male sighed and rolled his eyes as he took the cup and sipped on it, to show it wasn't poisoned, before handing back to you.
"I'm Shanks. I'm the Captain of the ship. The "why" would be because you tried to kill me. As for the how... let's just say I'm good at persuading people."
You laughed, after drinking the whole cup in one go.
"Sometimes girls get hungry..." You said, biting your lip.
Shanks simply scoffed.
"You are brave, for someone who's in your position to be talking that way..."
"What can I say..." You shrugged.
There was silence, as Shanks admired your body.
"What are you anyway?..." He asked, leaning closer on the tub.
The way he came closer to you showed how unafraid he was of you, of your... exquisite body, so to speak. That was new, you quite enjoyed it, had he not taken you captive.
"Call it a freak of nature, if you will." You replied, as you shrugged
After the man pressed you once more about your origins and anatomy, you decided to answer truthfully.
"I was cursed. Well, that's the cool way of putting it... Some weird Devil Fruit user has the ability to merge stuff together, be it dead, inanimate or alive. I was the result of an affair, from what I could gather in the fight between this woman and my mom. The wife of the man my mom had an affair with found her and decided to punish her by merging me with a fish I guess... In the beginning it was just small changes, some gills and scales, had to spend a lot of time in the bathub but nothing too hard, so my mom attempted to raise me like this. She gave up when the tail began to develop and threw me in the ocean..."
Shanks' eyebrows were furrowed and his eyes were set on your fish-like characteristics as he heard your explanation.
"And you resorted to eating humans?..."
You shrugged once more. It was your go-to answer, it seemed. No better way to show indifference.
"It's either humans or fish. Both of them are part of me, but only one of them cursed me, then cast me away and treated me as a monster."
"But not all humans are to blame for your... curse." The man tried to reason.
"I was also not to blame for my mother's mistakes. Yet here we are." You replied quickly, looking him in the eye with your orbs, devoid of any colour.
Shanks sighed and slapped his thighs as he stood up.
"Hey! Wait!" You semi-yelled, making Shanks stop and turn around "What's to happen to me? What will you do with me?"
"Seems like there is only one thing to do..." He said, sighing and placing his hand on his hip "We'll find the Devil Fruit user and get them to undo this."
Your eyes shined for a moment and your face lit up, before reminding yourself that the race you were talking to was untrustworthy, and the cold expression that was so familiar to you returned to your faced.
"Why. What's in it for you? Aren't you going to sell me to some freak show? Or keep me as a pet?"
Shanks sighed again.
"The only freak show master I know doesn't have me in great consideration, and you talk too much to be a pet and are not that useful." Ouch. "It seems like we'd be saving a lot of lives by helping you. Including your own."
He didn't give you time to reply, as the Captain left the room and closed the door.
You huffed, and relaxed in the tub, realizing that you had been tense this whole time. There was nothing you could do but trust these men now... It was nearly impossible for you to hop out of the tub and drag yourself out on the deck and into the ocean without being heard or seen flopping around, and the porthole next to you was far too small for you to fit through it...
As the sun set and darkness enveloped the room, the red haired man stepped in with a light being held by his mouth and a tray on his hand.
"Do you usually carry stuff with you mouth?" You joke with a teasing smirk.
The man set down the light and the tray, and pushed back the cape to reveal he had only one arm.
You felt embarrassed for a second, but wouldn't let it show (obviously).
"Seems like someone got to you before me." You joked with a simpathetic smile.
The man let out a belly laugh and picked up the tray again, handing it to you.
"You're a cheeky one for sure..." The captain commented and sat on a chair in the corner of the room.
You stared at the tray, it was some sort of meat you obviously didn't recognize and bread.
"This is what?" You asked, a little disgusted, pointing at the sead animal in front of you.
"It's chicken legs. You know, food from an animal that isn't either part of you." The man joked with a smile, pointing between your human torso and fish tail, and you laughed a little.
You picked it up carefully and examined it. You gave up the poison suspicions, if he wanted to kill you he would've done so. You took a small bite, waiting for a nasty taste to hit your tongue, but surprisingly you found it delicious. You widened your eyes and looked at him in shock, before devouring the meal in front of you.
"I take it you enjoyed the food?" Shanks asks with a chuckle, as he raised his eyebrows.
"It was edible." You replied jokingly, licking your fingers.
After taking the tray, the man remained in the room, surprisingly.
"You're staying?" You asked, cocking your head and blinking rapidly, as your eyes were used to a lot more moisture.
"Well, only one person keeps guard at night and I don't quite trust you to not go out there and kill him. I think I'm the only one that can take care of you." He said and winked.
You felt hot. Why did you feel hot? The bath water was cold. Just as you thought about his wink, you shivered.
Shanks raised an eyebrow and looked at the water.
"Is it too cold?"
Before you could reply, he stood up and dipped his hand in the water. Having his hand so close to you... So close to touching your body... It sent a strange feeling through your body, and you didn't know how to react.
"It's... fine. We don't have heaters in the ocean."
Shanks knelt down next to the tub so he could be face-to-face with you.
"Yeah, but you also don't have still water. That," he said, pointing at the water you sat in "will get pretty disgusting if it's not changed, unlike the ocean."
You looked at the water and it was safe to say the man was right. The sediments entagled in your gills and scales from sleeping on the sand, as well as some algae that had gotten stuck to you began staining the water as it cleaned you.
Shanks, realizing you had silently agreed with him, laid a towel on the ground and picked you up over his shoulder. You shrieked and grabbed onto his shirt, not being used to being carried (or manhandled). The captain slowly placed you on the towel, and you watched as he cleaned the tub and replaced the dirty water.
"Why are you going through all of this trouble? It doesn't make sense. What's in it for you?" You asked, seemingly getting defensive all of the sudden.
Shanks scoffed and looked over his shoulder as he worked.
"You have to stop thinking there's something in it for me, sweetheart. I just think you haven't been given a fair chance. Before labeling you as anything, I want to make sure you have a fair chance to become the person you think you should be."
You were out of words. Apologies and "thank you's" were not your strong suit, so you kept quiet. The captain took the lack of response as acceptance, and finished the job.
You could very easily flop back into the tub - you had been climbing up rocks and jumping from them all your life, after all - but you enjoyed it when Shanks picked you up and laid you down in such a careful way, so you didn't protest.
You spent the next three months of the search for the Devil Fruit user listening intently to Shanks' pirate stories and (unconsciously) fawning over him every night when he came to watch over you.
After the first month he trusted you to stay alone, but he woudn't leave you. He'd rather have your company. The Captain loved the way your big eyes shined as you looked at him, paying attention to every of his words.
Both your feelings were very obvious, and had anyone been in the room with the two of you they would've called you out on it. But that was the best part of your "sessions": it felt like a secret. It felt so intimate, it was honestly ironic how either of you failed to realize how infatuated you were with each other.
"Y/N!" The Captain said happily as he walked in the room and knelt down next to the tub.
You crossed your arms on the edge of the tub and laid your head on them.
"Yes, Captain?"
You had began calling him Captain as a joke, but he not-so-secretly loved it, and it showed: he couldn't keep the big, stupid smile off of his face whenever he heard you call him Captain.
"We found her!" The man said, holding your face with his hand "We found the devil fruit user!"
A wave of emotions washed over you. First you were happy, ecstatic even. But then came the panic, fear, uncertainty... And it showed.
"Y/N, what's wrong? You look... disappointed?" Shanks asked, not quite sure how to decipher your look.
You opened your mouth to speak, but you didn't know what to say or how to express what you were feeling - it was all brand new. Thankfully, Shanks gave you time.
"I just..." you started "I don't know. What will happen next? I don't know how to live among people, will I even like it? Will I even be able to walk? Will I miss the sea?" Tears streamed down your face and you were in a panicked state as you thought of all things that could go wrong.
Shanks hugged you and caressed your semi-wet hair.
"Sweetheart," you learned to love that nickname, it always put you at ease "I can't force you to go back to who you were, but I think you'd be infinitely happier on land, with people to talk to, with people to have fun with, with... someone to love." Shanks' voice brokw a little, as he thought of you living happily side by side with someone that wasn't him, but he cleared his throat and carried on "You can always choose to swim in the sea, and you can choose to walk on land and live as you were made to. I know it must be scary, all change is scary, but you won't have to be alone anymore"
By the time he finished, your heart was beating fast for different reasons and your breathing had calmed down.
When you pulled away from the hug, your faces were mere centimiters apart. You could both feel the tension and the attraction, but none of you dared move. You were almost sure you were both feeling the same.
"What do you say, Y/N?" He whispered.
You smiled widely and nodded.
"Let's do it."
The next few days of sailing were intense and overcome with emotion, but it wasn't long after your conversation with Shanks that the red-haired man came in with a big smile. He didn't even bother grabbing a towel - he was far too excited for that. The man picked you up, not caring that he got drenched in tub water, and carried you out to the deck.
The sun hurt your eyes and it took you a while to get accostumed, but the strangest part was Shanks.
"Do it." He said, turned to someone you could not see since you were still flung over his shoulder.
His voice was cold, demanding and soulless. You had never heard it this way, and you had a hard time assimilating that it was, in fact, the Shanks that you knew (and loved).
There was a long silence, it seemed like no one dared move, speak or breathe.
Suddenly, a woman cleared her throat, and you felt as if your body was being ripped apart. You gripped Shanks' back and tried not to make noise, but you couldn't help the toe-curling scream that left your mouth.
You could feel your legs slowly separating, and after a few excruciating minutes your body fell to the ground weakly.
"Y/N! Y/N?" Shanks called, hovering over you and cupping your cheek.
You opened my eyes and looked down at your legs, arms and hands.
"Legs!" You yelled happily and looked up at Shanks "Shanks I have legs!"
Shanks wrapped his arm around your waist and spun you around.
"Shit! It worked!" He said, looking at your face, still holding you up by the waist, as he was afraid you wouldn't be able to stand on your legs just yet.
As he looked down, Shanks realized you were (obviously) naked, and that your body was glued to his. The Captain blushed and fought off any... improper thoughts - he surely wished he had brought the towel.
The man cleared his throat and wrapped his cape around you as he carried you inside and ordered his crew to escort the Devil Fruit user back to the port.
Shanks sat you on a chair on his room and looked through his drawers for some clean clothes,
"Uh here- this ought to fit you."
His cheeks were red (as were yours) and he looked away as you put on his large shirt and a pair of loose pants.
"Can you walk?" The Captain asked.
You gripped the sides of the chair nervously.
"I don't... I don't know."
Shanks silently held out his hand, inviting you to try. You took it and slowly stood up. Your legs were a little wobbly and your walk was a little unsure and weak, but you sure could still do it. Muscle memory from before-fish-time, you assumed.
"I did it!" You said, wrapping your arms around him.
"You did it!" He cheered as well, wrapping his arm around your waist.
When you pulled away from the hug, your faces were close, and after all those years of luring men, you had never wanted to kiss one until Shanks came along.
"Now you can go resume your life back in your hometown!" The man said with a smile.
You stumbled away from him, suddenly finding the strenght to stand on your own.
"What?" You asked, incredulous.
"You can... go! You can live your life again, Y/N." He repeated, not understanding your reaction.
You scoffed, hurt and disappointed. You'd think that after spending every single night together for three months the reaction would be different. You thought Shanks felt the same about you, you thought he'd pick you up, spin you around, kiss you and ask you to stay on the ship, but no. The second you took a couple steps, he was ready to send you on your way.
"Yeah. That's probably best if I go. I'll leave right away."
You turned around, exited the room and slammed the door shut, leaving a confused Shanks behind. You wobbled away as fast as you could, using the walls of the ship as help, persistently fighting off the tears.
"Y/N! Wait! You're leaving now?" He asked, chasing after you.
"Well you want me gone! Might as well start now!" You said while walking.
Shanks grabbed your wrist and you tried to free yourself from it, but his grasp was firm.
"Y/N can we- Y/N can you stop struggling please? Y/N-" When the Captain got tired of asking, he picked you up and brought you to his room, throwing you on the bed as he closed the door with his foot.
"What is wrong with you!?" He roared, looking down at you with a look you couldn't decipher.
You stood up weakly.
"What's wrong with me!? What's wrong with you!" You countered, looking at him with the same mix of emotions running through you.
"Me!? I got you your body back! I freed you! And all I get is a cold shoulder and not even a goodbye? Maybe you are a cold hearted monster after all!"
Silence.
Silence as those words hit you like a brick and Shanks realized what had left his mouth. Tears streamed down your cheeks uncontrollably for the first time in over a decade.
"Y/N-"
He was cut off by you trying to reach the door without another word. The Captain stood between you and the door.
"Y/N please I'm sorry I didn't mean-"
"Let me leave! Let me leave! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!" You yelled at the top of your lungs, banging on his chest with closed fists out of frustration.
"Please Y/N, I'm begging you! I'm- I'm sorry! I was hurt!"
"Oh you were hurt? That's rich!" You said, laughing cynically.
"What is that supposed to mean?" He asked, more calmly.
You stumbled backwards and let yourself fall on the bed, sitting down since you weren't used to standing for long.
"You spent three months with me, every night. You were the only person I ever shared anything with. And then the first chance you get... You want me to leave? To send me away? I-Is that all I am? A project?"
Shanks knelt in front of you, taking your face in his hand like he had done many times before, but this time, it held a completely different meaning.
"Y/N... Is that what you think? You genuinely think I want you to go?" His thumb wiped your tears as he looked into your glossy eyes.
"You... don't? Then why did you say that?..."
Shanks chuckled and looked away for a second before looking back at you.
"Y/N, I want you to stay by my side every day until I die of some stupid reason." You and him cracked a smile at the small joke "I obviously didn't want you to leave, never did. I dreaded this day because I thought you'd want to leave... to be free to explore, find yourself and finally get out of this ship."
You cupped his face gently and felt him lean into your touch.
"Shanks... this is my home. You're my home. Plus, what better placed to explore in than a fucking ship!" I said with a smile and laughed.
Shanks retributed the smile, twice as big, and laughed as well.
"Hey little lady! Language!" He jokingly told you off.
You stared into each other's eyes as your heads tilted ever so slightly. That was the moment. It felt right. It felt perfect.
Your lips touched slightly, and you pulled away just as quickly, trying to process the moment. But when you realized how much you wanted it, how much you needed it, you grabbed him by his collar and pulled him closer, smashing your lips together. The kiss was rough and passionate, full of emotion.
"Princess I planned on taking it slow, but if you keep this up I won't be able to hold back much longer." Shanks whispered as he left sloppy kisses on your neck.
"Don't hold back. I want to feel everything I've been missing out on." You moaned.
"Well in that case," Shanks paused, as he manhandled you to lay on the bed and spread your legs so he could hover over you "let's give the crew something to complain about, shall we?"
The Captain didn't wait for your response, he simply captured your lips in a rough kiss once more and yanked down the pants you were wearing. His fingers slowly travelled down your body and parted your folds. You watched as he then took them up to his mouth and licked them clean.
"Who knew you'd still be this wet outside of the water?"
You blushed and rolled your eyes with a smile at the cheeky jokes you'd come to love.
Shanks removed his cape and shirt, and then kissed down your body, slightly pushing up the shirt you wore to reach your stomach. He pondered on removing the shirt, but decided against it - the Captain thought you'd look good being fucked in his shirt.
He toyed around your pussy, biting and kissing several spots on your inner thighs until you were moaning desperately.
"Please touch me there Shanks..." You begged.
That was his cue to begin eating you out like a hungry man. You didn't even know how to describe the feeling, but that didn't stop you from trying.
"F-fuck! That's so good Shanks- so good!" You moaned, as one of your hands gripped his sheets and the other tugged on his hair.
He moaned at the feeling of his hair being pulled and you swore the vibrations made it even better.
Shanks slapped your inner thigh and gripped it over and over, and you could feel something in the pit of your stomach forming.
"Oh shit-" You moaned.
Your breathing accelerated and your eyes closed as your back arched, preparing for whatever was coming.
When suddenly Shanks' mouth pulled away.
"What did you do that for?" You whined, looking at him through your lashes.
Shanks hovered over you and kissed you deeply. You could taste yourself on his tongue and you both moaned into each other's mouths.
"If you're going to cum for the first time sweetheart, you're doing it on my cock."
His hand expertly pulled his cock out, and you whimper-gasped when you felt it hit your pussy.
You looked down at it and widened your eyes.
Shanks laughed and caressed your cheek.
"You okay there, princess?" The Captain asked as he ran the tip of his cock along your folds, making you hiss.
"I'm- I have mixed feelings. Is all that going in me? And it feels good?"
Shanks chuckled and pecked your lips.
"I'll go slow, doll. If it doesn't feel good, you tell me, okay?"
You nodded, giving him the greenlight.
Shanks pushed into you, very slowly, carefully watching your face through the whole thing, until he bottomed out inside you.
"How you doing, dollface?" The man asked.
He wanted nothing more than to ram into you until the only word you could say was his name, but the man was patient.
"It feels... odd. But good. K-keep going." You said, suddenly feeling hot and shy.
Shanks slowly moved in and out of you, finding a merciful pace to fuck you in. His hand found your ass, that he gripped as tightly as he could without hurting you, taking out some of the frustration of not being able to fuck you as he wanted.
It became especially hard when you began tightening around his cock and moaning his name.
"Go faster, please-"
Those words were the only thing he wanted to hear. Shanks slapped the aprt of your ass he could reach from that position and steadily picked up the pace in which he fucked you.
"S-shit this is so fucking good Shanks!"
Your praises and moans were the sweetest sound he'd ever heard, and the man wanted to hold on as long as he could, to listen to them as long as possible.
The way his shirt looked on you while he fucked you was an even bigger ego-boost for him. You looked his, you looked like you belonged to him. Wearing his shirt, on his bed, with his cock buried deep in you... Fuck, it was a sight to see.
He bent over as he fucked you, his hand grabbing the base of your neck as his lips left sloppy kisses and small bites all over it.
"I wanna fuck you dumb. I wanna fuck your pretty little pussy so hard Y/N."
You didn't know how much you enjoyed dirty talking until you heard him whisper those words to you, and the most sinful moan left your mouth.
"Do it! Shit- fuck!" You cursed as he fucked you at an impossible pace.
Skin slapping and squelching sounds filled the room along with your moans and groans, and the familiar feeling at the pit of your stomach returned. You had no way of knowing you were about to cum so you couldn't warn your partner, but Shanks knew. From the way your back arched once more, and your hand gripped the wrist that was gripping your thigh, he knew you were close.
Shanks tried to hold off his orgasm as long as possible, and it was painful but oh so worth it. Your pleasure-filled face, mouth agape followed by the incessant calls for his name in the form of moans... it was art.
He came right after, burying his cock deep in you, making sure it all stayed in. His mark.
The Captain pulled out of you with a groan and plopped next to you. You waited no time to roll over and lay your head on his chest, swinging your leg over one of his as he wrapped his arm around you, his hand laying on your butt softly.
"I don't think I'll be able to walk for a different reason now..." You said, smiling up at him.
"Hey you're getting good at making corny jokes like me!"
You laughed together, then a deep silence ensued.
"Shanks... did you mean that?"
He cocked his head slightly.
"About what? Wanting to fuck you dumb? Oh very much!"
You laughed and slapped his chest.
"No! About... really wanting me here... by your side."
Shanks smiled as he looked at you fondly and placed a soft kiss on your lips.
"If you promise to tolerate me, I'd like to have you by my side until the end of my days."
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yandere-sins · 1 year
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The Orcas' Tale - Chapter IIII
You guys are really swimming through these polls. Maybe I made it too easy for you, but you got it right again! We are nearing the end, and finally, we make our escape from our captors. Enjoy!
Fandom: Original Content   Pairings: Yandere!Orca Mermen x GN!Reader   Warnings: Yandere, Monsters, Violence (Fighting and getting attacked), Butchering a fish, Dub-con touches/kisses, Animalistic behavior, Mention of claws/sharp teeth, Hinting at death, Long post
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"Human~"
The voice in your head echoed far and clear through your dreams of muddy waters and shadow creatures. It was the only thing able to pull you from those nightmares plaguing you, with its melodic up and down of a whisper, the sound vibrating in your chest as if it were a part of you. Something wrapped around your shin, large and cold, heating up as it made contact with your skin, and you pulled your legs upwards instinctively, trying to flee from the grabby hands, only to get blocked by a large weight pinning you down.
A brief moment of confusion passed your tired mind, your body heavy and rigid from the hard sleep on the stone ledge that, for a moment, you wanted to cry from being awoken much too early to fully rest. Somewhere in your circling thoughts, you must have passed out despite your hesitations to sleep around these intriguing but threatening creatures, too exhausted from everything that happened to you the previous day and the seal fur luring you in like a siren's song. 
"Human." 
This time, the call had already shattered through your dreams, hooking your conscience and pulling it back to reality. You awoke with crusts gluing your eyelids together, remnants of the salty water you never got to wash off. But when you wanted to reach up, you found your arms pinned to the ground you were lying on, forcing you to open your eyes without the help of a good rub. Your view wasn't great, though, as you were faced with darkness, not even the blue shimmers of light getting beneath the body that was covering you. 
There was never a moment without horror when you were around these strange, unpredictable creatures. But the loss of your movement and the weight feeling ever so crushing on top of you certainly put the cherry on top. Your mouth—one of the few things able to move—opened before you could even think about screaming, but just as quickly, it was covered by lips not your own. 
You made a pitiful quaking sound as a tongue slipped over yours, straight towards your throat. There was little room to struggle with this huge body on top of you, but you still did your best to flail your arms and legs, only to be shut down by much stronger limbs. Sharp teeth grazed your tongue and lips when you tried to close off the access to your mouth, reminding you of the predicament of their bites, the taste of iron and fish filling your panicked senses.
Until you had to take a breath. You were close to tears when you realized you were suffocating from the kiss, unable to gasp or fill your lungs until desperation forced you to inhale. The other tongue paused, waiting as you took your breath, both of your bodies shuddering as you received the sweet, sweet air you needed. Your eyes had squeezed shut as there was only darkness to see either way, but now that the tension in your body began to fade in confusion, you forced them open.
The amber of Nerrocan's eyes seemed almost like a glowing green as it reflected the faint blue lights of the cave plants, allowing their light to overtake the darkness. He allowed you to breathe through him a few more times before he awkwardly kissed you, creating some space between your mouth until only the sounds of sloppy, wet smooches rang out. His gaze fixated somewhere below your own eyes as he licked over your—blunt in comparison—teeth and sucked in your tongue, the feeling of his sharp ones making you flinch in surprise. Feeling your reaction, he pulled away with a jolt, replacing his lips with his hand before you had time to react.
"Don't," he warned, the sound curt and blunt. Not at all melodic like you were used to their voices by now. Don't scream, you figured from his order, and when his eyes moved to the side, so did yours, Nerrocan softening his hand clasped over half of your face so you could turn your head. 
Sprawled out to your sides were the other two mermen. You'd never have expected them to sleep so soundly next to you. However, you heard Krill let out whistling snores when he breathed out, and looking at Lyr, a bit of drool dripped from his lips, indicating the two were truly asleep. 
"They only just entered deep sleep. We have to be very quiet," Nerrocan whispered, even leaning down to the side of your head to speak into your ear. His closeness brought back the tension, shivers running down your spine. But you nodded into his palm, and he didn't question you before lowering his hand. 
"I will take you to the humans."
Your eyes widened in surprise as you listened intently to every word he murmured into your ear. "But…" you mumbled, barely moving your lips. He'd be able to hear you, no matter the volume of your voice. Glancing back over to the other two for a moment, your furrowed your brows as you looked at Nerrocan, finding his gaze to be on them too. For a moment, you thought you saw a flash of sadness cross his features as he looked at his pack, but other than you, he shook off the doubts before leaning down once more.
"Now. Be quiet."
Questions shot into your mind as Nerrocan slowly descended into the pool of water, using all his strength in his arms to temper the movement and slide into the wet soundlessly. Part of you was skeptical as you sat up, watching Nerrocan very openly take precautions from the others, apparently betraying them, considering how careful he was to be secretive. It made little sense for him to act this way, especially considering he was never the most interested in you either. Your questions about the why and how didn't help soothe the doubts that suddenly rose inside you, whether you should trust this guy more than anyone else. 
You gulped as he held out his webbed hand towards you, a serious expression on his face while most of his body was already submerged in the water. Waiting for you. Expecting no more delay from you who wanted this in the first place. Nerrocan said nothing while your thoughts were hissed in his voice, an illusion of your own nervous uncertainty. You want this. This might be your only chance.
And the others didn't care. 
They didn't need to spit this fact into your face to make it any more true than you already knew it was. Neither Krill nor Lyr cared or wanted to care for what you wanted, and neither of these possibilities was any less hurtful. They might look human (at least for half of their body), but they weren't. And there was no reason for them to help you. 
But what reasons did Nerrocan have? Why would he help you and go against their united front? Why go to these lengths for a human he seemed to harbor no sympathy for, either?
You didn't have a choice this time.
Shrugging off the seal fur you used as a blanket, you peered nervously at the sleeping predators of this sea, the two looking almost peaceful, with no worries on their minds. They were different from you, and, looking at Nerrocan, he was different from them too. 
On all fours, you crawled slowly, quietly, biting your lip whenever a pebble pressed into your palm or shin to keep yourself quiet, over to him. When you reached out your arm, his wet skin slid along your hand, up your wrist, forearm, to your upper arm, where it wrapped around. Nerrocan lifted himself out of the water while he pulled you towards him, your faces only inches apart when you realized he tilted his head and readied another kiss. 
You didn't want that! But he held you steady as he pressed his lips to yours, tongue slipping out to lick over your closed-off mouth, asking for entry. "Air," he breathed, and you scrunched up your face as you realized what he meant. You'd have to dip down into the ocean again. There'd be no saying how long you'd be stuck there if you wanted to try to hold your breath by yourself, so you needed to rely on him. To him, it was just a way of offering you air, but to you, it was much more meaningful. As if he was asking you to trust and allow him to protect you, making you feel vulnerable and gullible. What if his intentions were malicious after all?
"Air!" he reiterated, this time hissing the word in urgency. 
Behind you, Krill grumbled as he turned on his side, his arm falling to where you had just laid. If he noticed you gone, he'd probably jolt from his sleep and catch you two trying to escape, neither of you getting out of this situation safely. Nerrocan was strong; you had no doubts. But you knew Krill was older. If it came down to it, it would be strength against experience, and you doubted Krill would be fighting alone. Nerrocan was putting himself against his whole pod, even though you had no idea why. But you, too, had to play your part if he was ready to go this far.
Finding hold on his arm, you reached out to wrap your other arm around his neck. It was much easier to get things over with when you closed your eyes, so you surrendered to the darkness as you pressed your lips to Nerrocan's, allowing him to overtake your mouth once more while his free arm snatched around your midriff. It all went by so fast. Nerrocan lifted you from the ledge and pressed you to his body as his kiss deepened, making you reliant on the air he breathed through his gills as he pulled you into the water.
The harsh cold shocked you, but inside the water, Nerrocan's body was finally warm again, just like the first time he pulled you down under. Strangely enough, this memory resurfaced now, the panic and fear you felt then replaced with a spark of determination and the desperation to escape and trust him. However, this time, Nerrocan let you go as he noticed you voluntarily moving your body toward him instead of putting up a fight. Finding the smallest spot on his torso, you wrapped your legs around it as best as possible, arms holding on to his neck and fingers sinking into his hair as if your life depended on it. He loosened the kiss only once, threatening to drown you, when he gasped as you clawed at his scalp, as you were afraid he might slip from you.
You didn't dare to open your eyes even once as Nerrocan put your bodies into movement, navigating you two through the ocean with strong strokes of his tail. Nerrocan's arm slid over your back, pressing you against him while you kissed for air, making you almost feel… safe. He used the other arm to steer through the waters he swam through vigorously but kept you safely against him at the same time, never again prying your lips apart to make you fearful of the ocean you were in. The longer you were tied to each other's lips, the more natural it became. As if his mouth was the diving gear you needed for air on an expedition. But had you opened your eyes, the only thing you had seen would have been his, as the reflection of the ocean darted by inside them, with no time to awe about the wonders of the sea. 
When you two finally breached the surface, your worries melted away in an instant.
You found yourself liberated from the shackles of the ocean, barely feeling the water around you anymore as you pushed yourself away from Nerrocan, breathing in the fresh air as deep as you could. He was surprised for a moment by your sudden, energetic push higher. Still, he quickly adjusted his hold to lift your whole torso out of the water. 
After four deliberate, long fills of fresh air, you finally opened your eyes, staring at the twinkling stars above. The sun hadn't risen yet, but the horizon had already colored itself in a warm pink, promising a beautiful day. The water was calm, and when you looked down, all you found was Nerrocan's eyes staring up at you, his head tilted back to reveal a smile playing on his lips. 
"You're really taking me back to the humans?" you croaked, suddenly feeling a lump in your throat. This was almost too good to be true. Nerrocan had already brought you back to the surface, a dreadful place had you been here alone, no land in sight for miles and miles. You'd probably never have made it alone, so you were thankful he was with you. But what if he was just playing with your feelings? Showing you your own helplessness?
"I will. I promised. I'll take care of you and protect you."
"But why?"
The question made the lump in your throat swell even more, and you realized it was accompanied by tears shooting into your eyes. Nerrocan was promising you hope, but your heart was already too fearful to allow it. "Why help me? Why go against Krill and Lyr?"
Lowering you a little bit, Nerrocan reached up, swiping a wet thumb over your cheekbone and collecting your tears. You laughed as you were now wetter than from crying, and he did it again as if he didn't understand why the tears wouldn't stop. But when you reached up to press his palm against the side of your face, he stopped, staring at where your skin met his with an intense focus. 
"I… don't know," he muttered, squinting his eyes suspiciously. For someone who always seemed very collected, he was much more expressive than you could have hoped for. You felt yourself trust him more when he showed his emotions openly. "I just know I have to bring you back. You want to go back, so that's what I have to do."
"Are you sure? You don't sound sure…"
"I am. I am unsure why I feel this way, but I am sure about what to do. And we must move now, or the others can catch up with us before sunrise."
It wasn't the answer you hoped for, the questions burning in your mind never being solved to your satisfaction. But you swallowed them for the sake of this escape. Nerrocan had proven himself trustworthy, and when you gave him a nod as his go, he pulled your hands from his shoulders where you had supported yourself and slipped underwater again. Only to emerge with his back facing you, directing your arms around his neck again. 
"As long as the sun isn't high in the sky yet, we can swim on the surface. But we'll have to go back underwater when it gets dangerous for you. Humans are vulnerable to the sunlight, right?"
"Yes," you confirmed without thinking, slowly hooking your arms around his neck and drawing closer to his body. "Yes, we are."
"You are very fragile," he noted, but there was no bite to his words, and you spotted a smile on his face as you peered around to the front. Next thing you knew, he had ducked his head into the water, pushing his body upwards for you to sit on. Nerrocan didn't need to tell you to wrap your legs around him as best as you could, hands falling to the space between his neck and shoulders before he began to push onwards. 
It wasn't easy to hold onto him, but you did your best, feeling like a cartoon character riding an oversized dolphin from the TV shows of your youth. There was some fun to it, but the moment your focus shifted anywhere else than your grip or the even but still fast pace you two had, you were sliding down his body like a slippery eel. Luckily, Nerrocan would always grip your legs in time to steady you until you found your place on top of him again, but you concluded that the trip to where you wanted to go would be an exhausting one. 
But at least, now you had a chance to make it.
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By the time the sun had already gone down again, you were sore and desperate for a break. You had no idea how you made it through the whole day without a moment of calm since you two began your journey, with no food and only an embarrassing amount of saliva to swallow from Nerrocan to replace your need for water. Talking about water—you were sick of it already, and it had only been one day. 
"How long?" you gasped, wiping your face with your hands before planting them into the sand. 
"Two more days if we can keep up the pace of today."
Nerrocan eyed you suspiciously as you kneeled on the small island in the middle of the ocean, barely ten steps wide and only sand and stones. There was some fern in the middle of it, but you doubted it was edible. Clutching your stomach, you weren't sure if you were hungry or nauseated from hearing the news about how long you'd still need to endure this kind of travel. You wanted to be better than this, toughen up, and take it as the price you'd have to pay for surviving silently without complaints. Still, at the same time, you couldn't imagine making it through another two days like this. 
His eyes fell on your hand on top of your stomach, brows furrowing as he studied your sickly posture. "Wait here," Nerrocan instructed sternly. "Don't go anywhere without me."
You shook your head, waving your hand dismissively. As if there was anywhere you could go other than the other side of this small, sandy beach island. All you wanted to do was sit on steady ground for a while, rest your sore muscles, and dry off your skin. Hopefully, you wouldn't suffer long-term injuries from staying in water for so long. Still, even that was something you considered a minor price to pay for returning to civilization in one piece.
It could have only been a few minutes, your mind almost immediately dozing off when you were left alone on the island before you heard the splashing sound of someone emerging from the water. You jerked awake, disorientated as you looked around, only to see Nerrocan crawling out of the water, a fish hanging from his mouth with blood dripping out of it. Who knew if it was edible, but when Nerrocan held it out to you, your stomach gave a small, pitiful growl, and you sighed at your own needs. 
You hesitated to take the fish as it was, complete with head and tail and entrails as you suspected. It also wasn't a species you'd usually enjoy at a restaurant. Nerrocan had bit his marks into the flesh, bleeding it out for you already, but when he noticed your hesitation, he paused, drawing the fish back. You never had the time to fully appreciate the merman, but the moonlight illuminated him like a god. Those trained muscles you had noticed before, moving and flexing as he moved, whether in the water or on land. They were perfectly accustomed to his needs, to whatever he needed to do, even though the bulky tail made for a heavy drag when he pulled himself onto land. His silky hair glowed in the white light, always moving, the long strands falling and curling over his body like waves caressing him. His eyes were razor sharp when he focused, beastly and predatory. But every time he looked at you, his expression relaxed, eyes softening as the tension fleeting. You could never tell what he was thinking, but you didn't mind his staring, his gaze so much more gentle than Krill's when it roamed your body. Around his hips was a leather strap, a net, and a small dagger hanging from it. The latter he pulled out, the blade looking dull and flat like a clam knife.
However, when he cut through the fish with the bare minimum of his strength, you realized it was sharp and ready. You always thought they only used their claws and fangs. However, watching Nerrocan skillfully disembowel and skin the fish was an impressive showcase of his abilities. Using his hand as a plate, he quickly put the dagger back into its sheath before serving the fish to you, not letting it get close to the sand. You inched closer to him to take away the pieces you wanted, one bite turning into two, then three and counting as you realized your body's need for sustenance. 
Nerrocan watched you for a while, following your fingers sliding over his palm to pick up the pieces with an odd curiosity before switching to watch you place the food in your mouth and chew as if he had never thought about this way of eating before. But eventually, he wrenched his eyes away, directing his focus back on the sea, and you found him lost in thought when you finally finished your meal. 
"I'm sorry," you muttered, suddenly overcome with a lot of guilt as you noticed his keen gaze, watching the waves splash around you. The things you'd have given to walk around in his mind for a while, figure out if he was measuring distance, what he could see in the moonlight, and feel with his tail fin in the water. The urge to study something so similar, yet different, had always been strong in you. But deep in those amber eyes, you could see longing, making you realize those similarities were worthy of your empathy.
"What are you sorry for?" he asked, turning his attention back to you and dipping his hands into the water to wash them off now that you had finished. 
"For… well… everything. I didn't even leave you any dinner. Not to mention you left your pod because of me… your family. Your brothers."
He was silent as you dropped the heaviness weighing on your heart. There was more you felt guilty for: the fact you made travel harder by being unfit for the terrain or that you had doubted him for the longest time. You didn't even have anything to repay his kindness with, and you didn't think he'd like anything you could give him as repayment when he sat you down at land again. 
"My brothers?" Nerrocan mumbled, furrowing his brows and cocking his head.
"Yes, the other two," you clarified, suddenly unsure about your assumption.
"We are not brothers; they are my mother's sister's children. But I am closer in age to them than my actual brothers. Krill taught me what I needed to know for my life in the pod. He made me a fine hunter, but I have long disliked his leadership abilities. He wants to be like his mother, which can be quite restrictive for others. I have sometimes struggled to understand his reckless behavior, and I loathe being blamed for his mistakes. And Lyr is… a problem. We've never gotten along well, but Krill insisted we had to stick together. You don't need to worry about them or me. It is quite normal for males to leave the pod. I'll be fine."
Cousins, you thought. All along, you thought they were close as brothers, especially how orcas usually acted in their pods. Still, you had been wrong about many things. You wouldn't have assumed yourself to be an expert on orcas, much less mermaid orcas, but it seemed you had been misguided about their relationship. You were also surprised to hear his thoughts about them, considering how well-integrated he had been into the pack. It made you remember Krill's words about the others, how he thought Nerrocan had ideas he wouldn't talk about. Hearing them from him now, it made sense he never spoke up against his cousin. 
But then again, the bit about males leaving the pod made less sense as you believed the only reason they did it was to mate and then return to their families after all. Maybe it was different for mermaids? Did they stay with their mates? Protect their families? 
Questions over questions, and you began to understand that the reason they all made you so nervous was your drive to find answers. But that seemed to be impossible, even at this point. You could ask him, but would it do you any good? All this time, you thought about revealing their identity once you returned to the mainland. To write up research papers and hold conferences about the strange existence of orca mermaids, but now… with how little you actually learned about them, would you have any grounds to stand on? If anyone caught on to the holes in your knowledge, they'd call you a sham and crazy for sure. After all, no one had ever learned about the existence of mermaids so far, other than in fairytales. 
"Say…" you started, opening your mouth to at least have some answer, even if they were just for yourself. You picked up one of the stones littering the beach, worrying it in your hand while he watched, minding the edges that protruded sharply from it. You wanted to ask him the bases and maybe what he'd do in the future. Even if he told you not to concern yourself with these worries, they still plagued your mind. Could he even return despite Krill and Lyr knowing what he did, taking you with him? Maybe it was less about the concept of his existence that you wanted to know about, but Nerrocan himself. 
However, instead of an answer, Nerrocan suddenly hissed, throwing half of his body in front of you and forcing you to pull in your legs to avoid them getting crushed under his weight. You could see very little with his body in the way, but it was impossible not to notice the tension in his bulking muscles and how he leaned forward, ready to pounce. 
"What's… What's going on?" you asked, trying to peer by him, spying through the gap between his body and arm. 
"Quiet!" he hissed, but his body only strained further after hearing your voice. He seemed unwell as if something hurt him, but you couldn't see an open wound on his body. 
Overcome with your nervousness, you held your breath as you tried to glimpse at what he saw, scanning the relatively calm waters as best as you could for any hint of danger that would justify his reaction. For a long moment, there was nothing, and you felt the tension begin to ease again, deciding to lean back and calm down, when Nerrocan snapped around, pinning you to the ground as he reached for something behind you. 
You yelped in surprise, your head hitting the sand with a thump, but it was only thanks to Nerrocan pushing you out of under him that you nearly escaped the swiping, clawed hands reaching for you. You dropped the stone in your hand as a sharp pain pushed you into action, forcing you to open your eyes and face the picture unfurling before you. Nerrocan held another face in his hand, his claws digging into the other merman's scalp as you heard a snarky laugh from the grey half-human. 
The moonlight made him look brilliant white, but in the shadows of their bodies, you could see the grey coat on him, very different compared to Nerrocan's deep black shade. Even though Nerrocan was a hulking figure even to this merman, the other still came with his own clawed hands that dug into Nerrocan's arm and sharp teeth grinning from beneath Nerrocan's palm. He held the grey merman up in the air as best as he could, preventing the creature from finding hold and crawling but also causing him to put all his weight into clawing at Nerrocan's arm. 
"You damn orcas are always so perceptive," the other merman snarled, licking over his lips. "And here I thought we'd have an easy snack."
We? you thought when a sudden jerk went through Nerrocan's body, forcing him to lower the other merman back on the sand while he glanced back over his shoulder. You followed this gaze, only to see another set of webbed and clawed hands wrap around and dig into Nerrocan's tail before starting to pull. Being forced back into the water, Nerrocan gripped the other merman by the neck, dragging him over the sand and stone with him as the three began descending into the wet. 
"Stay out of the water!" he yelled, your eyes meeting for a split second, yours blown wide in fear, his sharp and commanding. You weren't sure if it was meant as reassurance that he kept eye contact until he was pulled under; perhaps he was only trying to make sure you wouldn't get involved. More and more water was thrown around as you quickly climbed away from the edge of the island, sitting down on the grassy spot between the ferns. There was so much water being splashed around before the movement suddenly ceased, only to resurface seconds later. You saw tails thrashing against the surface, more light-colored ones than Nerrocan's dark hide, but you weren't able to figure out how many attackers were down there. 
It all happened so fast that you didn't even notice you were shaking in fear until you curled your hand into a fist, another sharp pain zapping through you. It felt wrong to look away when Nerrocan was fighting for his—and consequently your—life, but you still glanced down at the cut in your palm, long and bleeding, not having noticed it until then. It must have been the stone that you accidentally clutched when you were attacked, but it seemed like a small thing while there was a fight going on just a few feet from you.
The pain was quickly forgotten when one of the unfamiliar mermen suddenly jumped out of the water, landing on his belly as he lunged at you. Sharp teeth etched into a mad grimace, so much more horrifying than any animal could ever be when it was the face of a human you were staring down. You only got glimpses of your attacker. Of the grey coat and the dorsal fin, which was shorter and sharper than the orcas'. Everything else was similar, though he wasn't as big as Nerrocan or the others, that much you could tell. He looked as if a shark had taken on a half-human form, and from what you heard, this might have been the case.
Your scream fell silent as you forced yourself away as far as you could, water already threatening to envelop you when Nerrocan suddenly pounced from behind the merman, gripping him by his hair and keeping him at bay. His teeth were bared, his eyes so dark you saw no spark of humanness in them. None of them resembled humans at that moment. Nerrocan didn't look at you, even though you couldn't help but watch him, terrified, as he dragged the attacker away from you. Another merman lunged at his tail, and you clearly saw him bite down into Nerrocan as he twisted around to grab that merman, too, letting himself fall back into the water and bringing them both down with him. That bite was not the only wound you noticed in the short time the struggle occurred before you. You saw the scratches on Nerrocan's body, the blood trickling from his shoulder, and the claw marks on his arms. 
This fight was raw and brutal and… unfair. Even though he kept them at bay, those two other mermen didn't have wounds deep enough to bleed yet. Orcas were stronger than sharks, but you had never seen a fight between one orca and two sharks before. The outcome wasn't clear this time, but your gut twisted and turned with the realization there was no guarantee Nerrocan would be able to win on his own. 
He told you to stay out of the water, to not get unnecessarily close to the danger, but should you just wait and watch as the two attackers ripped your only chance of safety and returning home apart? Nerrocan told you to stay back, and you had already decided to trust him. Would you be a hindrance if you tried to help, or would you give Nerrocan that little window he needed to finish off these two? The only way to distract them was to get into the action, but what if you put yourself into danger—accidentally or not?
There wasn't much time to think of anything else you could do. After all, this fight could end at any second when one of them made a mistake. 
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buryustogether · 2 years
Text
mary on a cross
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part 1 part 2 part 3
lycan/werewolf!heisenberg x f!reader
summary: for decades, the beast has provided for and protected your village. when he suddenly stops, however, the council decides a virgin sacrifice is in order to appease him.
warnings/tags: heavy religious talk/themes, sexual assault (checking virginity), sacrifice, mentions of blood and cannibalism, bondage, swearing, mentions of starvation and violence
author’s note: i wrote this at 3am based on a dream so be kind.
inspired by mary on a cross by ghost
‘ you go down just like holy mary ’
It was the village priest who asked if your virginity was still intact.
But the question was not unfounded.
You could not fathom as to why your ancestors had chosen this spot to settle down. It was a clearing near the bottom of a ravine, surrounded on the north and south by impassable mountains. The forest occupied the other directions, too thick and dense to travel through and cling to the hope you would make it back with all of your fingers and toes intact. Game was scarce, and luxuries such as spice and cloth even more so. It was desolate, and miserable.
You could not fathom as to why they had chosen this spot.
The legends told of the struggle they faced after first establishing your little village. They found no animals to hunt, and the fish they managed to capture from the small creek running along the perimeter were smaller than their dinner plates. Some starved. Others began to turn upon one another.
Then there came the beast.
They said no one laid eyes on him until after the first of the elk arrived at the town square, freshly slaughtered and with enough meat for everyone. It had appeared from seemingly thin air, with only a pair of deep-imprinted footsteps in the snow to suggest it had not wandered in and died on its own. They praised God for the gift. Then the next day, a pair of deer were delivered.
This went on for, they told, a week before someone spied their so-called savior. They spotted him in the nighttime, when he had come to gift them another elk, this one bigger than the last. He held the form of a man and wore clothes far warmer than theirs, shielded from the cold in ways they could not yet comprehend. But then he’d turned to the light, his eyes glinting, and they’d realized it was not a man in the slightest. His eyes were an otherworldly golden, his bared teeth jagged as blades. Long, black claws sprouted from his fingers and his grey hair curtained his face like a destroyed portrait.
The villagers began to offer payment for his deeds. They tried to leave him money, but it went untouched. A beast would have no use for their currency. They left him the word of God, and they found the Bible ripped to shreds. Then one, so the legends went, left upon his offering pedestal a pair of leather gloves.
They were gone the following morning, and he never took another thing.
And, as the elders have taught, the beast provided for the village for years, decades. He brought them food when they were close to starving - how he knew, they could not understand - and protected it from threats. He became their new god. There was no one that did not benefit from his protection, and he never failed to deliver.
Until last week.
Your eighteenth birthday had passed a number of days before, and your family had used up the rest of the sugar making your favorite tarts for your special occasion. Now, you wished you had savored them just a bit more.
The beast did not come on the first day of the week, nor the second or third. The villagers had grown lazy, used to being provided for, and there were no extra provisions hidden away for an unthinkable occasion such as this. Bellies began to grumble, and moods dropped like insects. The beast did not come the fourth, fifth, six, nor seventh day.
People panicked.
Some believed the end had come, and their loved ones were forced to stop them from ending themselves.
The council held a meeting, one each and every one of the villagers was required to attend. You found yourself sitting in one of the back most pews with your parents, head held low as the women did and hands crossed dutifully over your lap. You only looked up when the priest, backed by the council, cleared his throat from his pulpit and the worried chatter ceased.
The priest cleared his throat, seeming to be searching for the right words as dozens upon dozens of eyes bored into him. People needed this reassurance, promises that the beast, their god, had not abandoned them.
At last, he spoke. “These are trying times, as I’m sure everyone here knows and feels within their homes.” There passed around a number of murmured agreements. “The council and I have been meeting, searching for solutions to this problem.” He took a breath and closed his eyes; everyone waited. “We have come to the conclusion that, somehow, in some way, we have angered the beast. He has turned away from us in a test, and we must show him that we are still worth saving. We must offer him desirable, and valuable, in order to win back his affections.”
The village people burst into a storm of murmurs and whispers. Was it true? Had they truly angered him?
“What do you suggest we offer him, then?” demanded a man near the front. “We haven’t anything desirable, nor valuable. The beast provides us with everything we value.”
The priest held up a hand to silence him, as if this was precisely what he expected to come of his announcement. The council whispered behind him. You felt your stomach roiling as you glanced to your parents. Just what did you all have to give a deity such as the beast? If your village had something he wanted, it was beyond you why he had not taken it by now.
Perhaps he was too kind a god to steal from his followers.
The priest went on, his voice booming and powerful enough to shake the earth atop its core. “What we will give the beast is no object, nor anything we can see or touch.” There came a pause, long and haunting. “The Bible commands a virgin must be sacrificed in order to appease an angered god.”
The church may as well have imploded upon itself. Mothers gasped and clutched their children to their breasts. Young girls looked to their parents and tugged on their sleeves, demanding to know what had just been said.
You felt your heart drop to your stomach as your head snapped around to take everything in. Your pulse quickened and you fisted your skirts, then hurried to drop your head again. Perhaps if he didn’t see you, his eyes would flit right over you.
It wasn’t much of a secret you were still a virgin, what with how none of the young men in the village had successfully caught your eye. That - and you just simply weren’t ready. It was as easy as so.
Now, you were wishing you had just gone and got it over with in the hay bales in the back of the stables like every other girl your age.
“Now, everyone, calm yourselves.” The priest’s soothing tone swept again over the crowd, and they focused their attention back to his tall figure upon the raised platform. “The council has already decided upon a soul to offer the beast. Before we call out their name, we must remember this is for the greater good of the village, and our people. If we do not offer the beast a peace offering, we will freeze and starve. Is this really what we want?”
No, it was not what they wanted.
Your mouth went dry and you tried to keep your breathing even as a council member handed the priest a small piece of paper, and he read it silently first. Then -
“Y/N.”
Your world came to a halt. The clocks stopped ticking. The creek outside stopped murmuring and whispering. You lifted your head to find every pair of eyes in the church upon you, including your parents’, your friends’, your neighbors’.
This couldn’t happen. You weren’t going to be sacrificed to a beast, to a god. You just wouldn’t. You still had so much to live for.
So you did the only thing you could think to do.
You ran.
Your feet carried you in a flurry of motion down the aisle and through the doors, down the steps and into the icy street.
You only made it a few more yards before one of the men grabbed you and hauled you back.
Reality became a twisted, mocking version of itself from then on. You forced yourself to disappear from your consciousness as they restrained you to keep you from running, chained you to a bench in the back of the church so that the elders of the council could spread your legs and ensure you were a virgin. You felt your face heat and tears roll down your cheeks as your legs involuntarily kicked and flailed, their touches upon your most intimate parts a violation of your soul.
You could not tell when that stage ended, and another began. They dressed you in the finest skirts and silks, painted your face and made your hair. If there had been a mirror present, and the circumstances had been far, far different, you were sure you would have enjoyed gazing at your reflection. Thought you looked pretty, even.
But the circumstances were not different.
The circumstances found you deep, deep in the woods, chained to an offering pedestal, and kneeling with your arms above you.
Waiting to be found by the beast.
Your tears had dried and your panic and fear turned to rage. Your parents and friends had only stood by and allowed everything that happened to you be done, too concerned with their own selfish needs to bother protesting. They had only said their goodbyes and sent you away, intent on feasting what the beast brought them in return for your beauty, your body, your virginity… your blood.
You didn’t know quite what to expect - if the beast even did find you. If he was even alive. If he even wanted what you had to offer. Perhaps he would uphold his honorable reputation, explain his absence and anger with the villagers, set you free to take the message to the others. Or perhaps he would ravish you, thrilled with the sacrifice, then clap those fabled rows of razor teeth into your neck and lick up the waterfalls of blood that would spew from your throat.
Or perhaps you would die of the cold first, and you wouldn’t have to be alive to endure any of it.
The crack of a twig in the wood snagged your attention. You lifted your head, previously hung to stare at the snow beneath you, and searched the dense forest around you. Another snap; from your left, this time. A third, to your right. Rustling. Dead ahead.
“Well, well, well. Don’t you look like Mary on a cross.”
You heard his voice before you saw him. It was deep and drawling, tipped with some foreign tongue you could not place. He accentuated his words, as if he would shame himself for stumbling even once, as if he craved the attention his sentences alone brought him.
The lone figure of a man stepped into your view from the wood, and you were unable to keep your lips from parting and your breath from hitching. He was tall, taller than your father when he stood to his full height, and he wore clothing unlike you had ever seen before. A shirt unbuttoned against the freezing temperatures, shiny boots to stamp in the snow. A thin coat that wagged at his calves and a hat atop his grey hair. A pair of leather gloves. And shaded specs perched on his nose, not for reading or seeing, but purely for fashion.
You could not deny, in that moment, that he was the most attractive man you had ever seen.
The beast approached you slowly, like an apex predator stalking its prey, and kept his hands in his pockets as he did so. You wondered if, beneath those gloves, his fingers extended into claws, like in the legends. You wondered if his teeth were as jagged as they said, if his eyes were gold like molten copper behind those shades.
He stopped before you, a feet away, and crouched down on his haunches so that he could be at your level. It seemed he found your thundering pulse and wide eyes humorous, because he answered two of your thoughts at once; he grinned wide, showing off perfectly normal human teeth, and pushed his shades further down his nose to reveal hazel eyes, nearly bordering on silver. Everything about him screamed ordinary, but you knew he was anything but.
“What have we here?” he asked, leaning in closer. You flinched and turned your head away, straining against the chains around your wrists. He stopped at your reaction and tilted his head rather curiously. “You can ease up, there, princess. I’m not going to hurt you.” He flashed you another blinding grin. “Yet.”
A shiver climbed up your spine, and it was not from the cold.
The beast hummed as he stood and examined the chains holding you to the offering pedestal. “What are you doing all the way out here?” he asked. He gave the linked metal a testing yank. “And why the hell are you in a position like this?” He gave a self-indulgent chuckle. “If you wanted a ride with the big bad beast, you only needed to ask.”
“I didn’t do this myself,” you snapped, the first thing you’d spoken since his arrival. You felt your blood turn to ice as he glanced over at your outburst. You swallowed your fear and took a shuddering breath; you were sure your lips weds turning blue by now. “The village believes you’re angry with them. With us. That you’ve abandoned us and a… a sacrifice was required to appease you.”
Another chuckle came from the beast’s throat, this one a bit more amused than the last. “Oh, fuck. I swear, you humans get more and more loony with that religious stuff every decade. Let me guess.” He circled the pedestal and came to a stop on your other side, then slid a leather-clad hand to cup your face and make you look up at him. His fingers were not sharp; instead, they were warm. “You’ve never gotten your skirt lifted - am I right?”
He laughed when you jerked your head away and refused to look at him.
“Well, I’ll give you this,” he said, then grabbed one of the chains with a powerful grip, “you’re one hell of a volunteer.” Like it was made of nothing but twine, he ripped the chain clean from the pedestal and dropped it to the ground. Your arm screamed in relief and you almost did, too. He moved on to the other chain. “And I hate to burst your little sacrilegious bubble, but I didn’t ‘abandon’ you people. Ever heard of taking a nap? Forgive me for sleeping in a little.”
You didn’t quite know how to respond to his words as he let the other chain down, and you were able to undo the clasps around your wrists. Sleeping? He had been sleeping, hibernating, even, and your people thought the world was ending?
How stupid they all sounded.
But you stuck to one bit of his dialogue - the piece that angered you the most. “I didn’t volunteer,” you said roughly as you rubbed your raw, tender wrists. He stopped from where he was now inspecting the heavy chains, gaze sliding to your hunched form. “They… they forced me to do this. They made sure I was still a virgin, and, and dragged me out here -“
“What’s your name?”
His simple request startled you from the rant you were preparing. You suddenly felt small beneath his intense gaze, and you found yourself huddling your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around your legs. “Y/N,” you whispered.
The beast dropped the chains, whatever interest he had in them now gone, and stalked closer. You cowered slightly, tilting your head away. He crouched, waited a moment, then reached out like he had before and took the point of your chin under his thumb. Gently, but still forcefully, he dragged your head back around so that you were looking right at him. With his other hand, he pulled his shades off, and you were able to gaze directly into those silvery eyes of his. You swore you could have seen stars dancing within the irises.
“Hate to be the one to tell you this, sweetheart,” he rumbled, his tone slightly different than it had been before, “but I’m going to kill those people for putting their hands on a pretty little thing like you.” He must have felt your breath hitch, because he tilted his head and brushed a thumb over your bottom lip; you were unable to stop the feeling of powerful heat that went straight to your core between your thighs. “Innocence is a treasure not many poor souls on this damned earth have any more; and who is man to take it from another for his own self preservation?”
He pulled away, and you let out the breath you were unaware you had been holding. The beast offered you a hand, and, your own still shaking slightly, you accepted. He hauled you to your feet and said, “Name’s Heisenberg. You can call me Karl; but only when it’s just you and I, pretty girl.”
Warily, you glanced over your shoulder, back toward the village. “You… you’re not going to -“
“Oh, no,” he said, then cupped your face and brought you close to his own. You found yourself leaning into his warm, warm touch. “Those pricks don’t deserve you; not after what they’ve done. Besides, I’d like to wait them out… see how long it takes for them to turn on one another when the cupboards empty out and there’s no one to bring them food.”
Blinking rapidly, you murmured low, “Why have you been…”
“Feeding you?” The beast - Heisenberg - said. You nodded. “Call me old fashioned, but I like the idea of helping people.” He slid his shades back on, and his enchanting gaze disappeared. “But only the ones who deserve it.” He took a few steps back to where he’d come from, then glanced back. “Coming?” he asked. A sick, twisted kind of smile blossomed across his lips. “Or, would you like to pay your dear people a visit? Have a little fun - the way they had theirs with you?”
You thought about your answer.
Then matched his sadistic grin.
Heisenberg gave a low laugh and swept back toward you, bringing his lips inches from yours. You did not shy away this time. “Oh, I think I’m going to like you.”
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glassartpeasants · 3 years
Note
PLS CAN WE GET A PART TWO ON THE SIREN FIC LIKE AFTER READER TURN SHIGARAKI INTO A SIREN TOO???????? i loved that fic so much omg you write so well !!
Oh im so glad you liked it! I had a really fun time making that one!
~~~
Title: Deeper In the Waves
Tomura Shigaraki x Siren!F!Reader
Warnings: Death, angst, mentions of past sex, blood/gore, spoilers for MHA, jealous reader, fluff? Theres gonna be a part three cause there was more I wanted to add I just didn't want to make it confusing for you guys that's why it took me so long to get it out haha
~~~
It's cold.
All Shigaraki remembers is one moment he's having sex with a hot siren chick and the next he's getting dragged to the deepest parts of the ocean. No time for him to scream for help or even get air. He can remember the burning feeling of water filling his lungs. It was the most painful thing he's ever experienced.
His entire life had flashed before his eyes as he was dragged farther and farther to the ocean floor until everything went black. Remembering how close he was to destroying hero society. Remembering that fateful night his family had returned to nothing but ash and blood. Meeting and starting the league. Kidnapping that annoying brat Bakugou and everything in between.
All of it gone with a second.
So when Shigaraki opened his eyes to find so many unfamiliar faces looking at him he panicked and tried running away only to realize it wasn't doing him any good. They all gave him a questionable glance.
"This is who she chooses to be her mate? Him?" One of the sirens talked to the other in hushed voices. You hated humans so why did you take one down here? Many sirens didn't understand but they had heard of Shigaraki's powers and were quickly on board with the entire thing. With someone as powerful as him, catching humans and finding safe spaces to stay was so much easier.
Shigaraki's eyes widen at the word 'mate'. He flipped his head around to look at the siren who said it before looking down and seeing that he no longer had legs.
"What the fuck?! Where are my legs?!" Instead of legs, a beautiful pitch-black tail was in its place. Scales shiny enough to glimmer in just the right light.
"Don't worry (Y/N) will be back soon to help you." The sound of your name brought a deep rage to bubble inside him.
"(Y/N)?! Where is she?!" His voice boomed in the siren's ears when it hit them. Many sirens have done this before so it was nothing new. It just seemed this human had more of a tongue than the other humans who they converted.
"Calm down. She should be back in about 5 minutes. In the meantime, do you want to learn how to actually move instead of struggling like a fish caught in a net?" One of the sirens offered. Of course, they were going to be a safe distance away from him. His power or 'quirk' worked on humans so it wouldn't be surprising if it also worked on sirens. They also didn’t really know if it stayed with him after being converted.
"I don't want help from any of you! I want to go home! I need to leave!" This couldn't be happening. He was having a horrible nightmare. There's no way that this could be actually happening to him.
"I'm very sorry but once you've been turned there's no way home. You can have a human form but you need to be back into the water in 20 minutes or there are terrible consequences." Many sirens started trying to console the newest member of the pod but it seemed like he wasn't listening which was fair. They expected such a reaction just not as huge as this one.
"Do you guys just do this for shits and giggles?! Fuck all of you!" Shigaraki tried to extend his arms to touch one of them but each siren quickly moved away. They all looked at each other and nodded.
"Here's what we'll do. We'll leave you alone, and you can wait for (Y/N)." Before Shigaraki could even respond all the sirens left him alone. He finally got to take a look at his surroundings. Taking a better look at everything, it seemed to be in an underwater cave. It was pretty he'd admit but the most unsettling thing was all the human remains that covered the floor of the cave. Some still with a bit of decaying meat on their bones.
Sure he may have killed people but when it came to him, they would simply disappear into bloody ash. Seeing people decaying bones with their faces still screaming gave him a horrible shiver as he felt as if every single one of them were staring at him, asking him why this had happened to them.
Shigaraki tried to 'swim' away but due to his lack of training. All he was doing was stirring up the bottom of the cave, making the dust fly all around him as he lost his sense of vision and coordination. He could feel the dirt enter his mouth and cover his body. 
He opened his eyes for a second only to see a single skull right in front of his face. He let out a scream as he desperately wanted out of this cave. 
“Shigaraki? Are you in there-oh jeez!” Your voice filled the cave as he tried to look for your figure but couldn’t see anything with all the dust surrounding him.
“Stop moving I’ll get you out of here!” He felt your cold hand grab his arm as you yanked him out of the cave and into the open water.
Once he was out of the cave is when he truly realized that he didn’t know the way home. There was no ocean bottom he could see and nothing around for miles it seemed like. Just clear open water.
“What the hell was that?! Where the hell am I?!” 
“Your in the training grounds. Newly converted sirens get trained here. At least how to sim at first. There are many courses you have to go through.” 
“Well, news flash I don’t want to be a siren! What the hell is wrong with you and these freaks!” You knew this was the expected outcome, but you weren’t gonna tolerate him calling the only family you’ve ever known freaks.
“Now you listen here Shigaraki.” You say swimming over to him. Grabbing his arms and pinning them to his side.
“You are to never call my family freaks again or I’ll make sure your our next meal.” Or course he didn’t know that you’d never do that but what he doesn’t know doesn’t hurt nobody.
Shigaraki just looked at you with hatred as he tried struggling to get out of your grip. He didn’t really process the strength sirens really had.
“Do you understand me Shigaraki?” Knowing he was out of his element he nodded his head yes in defeat. This seemed to have put a smile on your face as you gave him a kiss on the forehead in approval.
“Okay then. Let’s get started.”
~~~
It had only been a few months since his life was suddenly ripped away from him. Everything he had worked hard for was gone. He didn’t even know how the league was doing or what their reactions were to him missing.
So there he laid. On the same rock that sealed his fate that wretched day. The waves were calm as he heard the sounds of people talking and little children yelling. He rolled over onto his stomach as he moved his arms and positioned them to be makeshift pillows. He laid his head on his arms as his eyelids grew heavy. He let out a loud sigh before it went dark.
“Yo Shigaraki where you’ve been buddy? We’ve been looking all over the place!” A familiar scarred face looked him in the eyes as one of his hands placed itself on Shigaraki’s shoulder.
“You won’t believe what happened to me! But what’s going on with everything? What did I miss?!” Shigaraki had a sickening feeling that all his hard work would be gone and he’d have to start all over.
“Don’t worry everything is still the same. But we have been talking to the Shie Hassakai in some sort of partnership. Now that you know what’s going on, I believe you owe us an explanation.” And explain he did.
At first glance, no one believed him but once they saw his face and how detailed he told the story is was concerning that it was. Sirens in Japan? A cave of human bones that have been decaying for decades? The siren chick that made this all happen? They all listened in shock as Shigaraki looked like he was about to have a panic attack. But just as he did an unrecognizable look spread across Shigaraki’s face.
“How good are you guys at swimming? Cause we have a new target.”
Just as soon as he fell asleep, loud splashes woke Shigaraki up from his dream. Once he opened his eyes he noticed that instead of a sunny calm day, it had turned into a hellfire of a nighttime storm. Whitecaps were everywhere as waves splashed against the rocks.
'Shit I should probably get back.' Shigaraki ducked under the waves and quickly started to swim his way to his new home. He could hear the sounds of the waves hitting each other and even the booming of lighting under the water. A worry took over him as he realized that this was his actual first storm as a siren.
Not to mention he'd always had trouble navigating the area at night so that's why he never goes out at night or any time near it. He must have fallen asleep for longer than he originally planned.
The water started to get darker and darker to the point where he couldn't see anything. North felt like South and East felt like West. The darkness surrounding him felt suffocating as he feared for the worse. He began to scratch at his neck profusely. Even as a siren he took that trait with him. And to his happiness, his quirk too.
Funny enough, his quirk had got the attention of other sirens, much to your displeasure. One time he had decayed the bottom of a ship cause it was a little too big for all the sirens to get a meal.
Once the bottom of the ship decayed and it started to sink, a female siren came over to him and begin to compliment him on his work. It was obvious that she had an attraction to him. On the back of every siren is a dorsal fin that started at the middle of their shoulder blades and ended right at the top of the pelvis. When a siren is attracted or aroused by something, the fin tends to move.
So when the female siren had taken an interest in him, he could tell. While she wasn't as pretty as you, he'd gladly fuck her just for a chance to get back at you for what you've done to him. he would have to if it weren't for said siren trying to fight you for the right to call him their mate.
Turns out said siren was a newly converted human too cause she didn't stand a chance against your strength and skill. She was quickly turned into a corpse and he saw her sink to the bottom of the ocean. This was a very obviously fucked up 'family'. Apparently, he still had a lot to learn when it came to lovers and duels.
After that many were afraid to show even the littlest interest in him. According to one of the other sirens, he was the only mate you've ever had. That could have been what caused such an overreaction that lead him to be a siren.
A hand wrapping around his arm tugged him out of his thoughts as he was getting dragged through the waters forcefully, but the grip made sure it was light and not hurting him. His red eyes squinted to get a better look at his helper only to see your familiar (h/c) hair.
It only took about 5 minutes to get to the cave where almost everyone was sleeping, except for a few sirens who were to keep guard and switch up every few hours. You took him to the very back of the cave. You turned around and grabbed him by the face and had a worried expression.
"Are you okay? I got so worried when you didn't come back on time. I was worried you got lost at sea considering it's your first real storm as a siren." You took one hand off his face as you brushed some of his hair behind his ear.
A weird feeling took over Shigaraki's body. A warm fuzzy feeling that he hasn't felt in a long time. He had shut his eyes and unintentionally leaned into your clawed ones. You rubbed his cheek as you looked at him with fondness in your eyes. You pressed a kiss to his lips before putting your forehead against his.
"Come on, let's go lay down. Let's hope the storm is gone by tomorrow." You led him to lay down beside you as you wrapped your arms around him tightly. Thinking that he might escape if you let go. His head was laying on your chest as he let out a little sigh.
"And if it isn't?"
"Well guess it's a good time to help you navigate stormy weather." You chuckle before closing your eyes in which Shigaraki soon followed.
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slasherholic · 3 years
Text
Contains: gender neutral reader, torture, forced scarification, bondage, spanking, fear play, body horror, threats of violence, mentions of drugging.
Asa Emory x Favorite!Victim Reader | One More Chance | Chapter 2
part one here
He stops in front of the elevator. Green-grey mold climbs the peeling beige wallpaper on either side of it like creeping fingers. The tarnished doors sit locked away behind a rusting barred gate. You had tried to use this exact same elevator when you almost got away from—
When you disobeyed him, interjects the part of your brain that just spared you your limbs. You had tried to use this elevator when you disobeyed him.
But he had locked it up tight from the top floors, too.
Upon realizing that, you nearly went slinking back to your room. You remember thinking that if you went back, if you crawled back inside your trunk and shut the lid, if you curled up very tight and very small, if you were good for him, when he found you, he might forgive you. There would still be a punishment for jimmying the lock; but if you showed him that you were sorry, ready to obey, ready to let him keep you without a fuss, the punishment might be bearable.
Then you had discovered a vent with a screw loose. Loose enough for you to peel back the grate.
The moment your slow descent to the lobby through the vents began, you knew forgiveness was out of the question. If he caught you before you made it out of this hotel, you would be tortured for it.
There is not a single doubt in your groggy, muddled, drugged-up mind that you are still about to be tortured for it.
He lowers your body to the grimy floor and unhooks his keychain from his belt. The keys jangle as he flips the ring once around his finger and catches it again. 
A shrill cry leaves your throat when his boot comes down on your temple.
He presses the rubber firmly into your cheek, smushing your face against the cold floor, covering your eyes. He’s not going to let you see this part. 
You hear him flipping back and forth between the keys, in no particular hurry to find the correct one.
One,
two,
three locks click open.
The pressure on your temple lifts mercifully away. You watch his boots as he slides the grated rusty door barring the elevator open. When he picks you up again, he slings you over his shoulder, his hand coming down to hold your naked thigh.
There are fifteen amber buttons on the chrome panel inside the elevator. You know your room is on the eighth floor.
Dread knots your stomach when you see the counter above the doors pass floor number eight.
He’s not taking you back to your room. 
The elevator stops on floor fourteen. He steps out, and into a part of the hotel you have never seen before. He starts down the decayed hall.
You pass one of his dolls. You don’t shut your eyes in time before you see her.
The first thing you see is the woman’s guts.
Shimmering in a slippery wet blue-purple pile on her abdomen like a tangle of worms, leaking blood down her ribs from stress-worn ruptures in the meat. The stench of her insides hits you like a kick to the face. You realize you must be smelling the chemicals of her stress and fear, cortisol, adrenaline, the pungent amalgamation of everything her panicking brain released when he did this to her.
It must have been recent; nobody could survive this for long.
She whimpers weakly at the sound of his approach. Where her eyes are meant to be, there are only bloody, glistening hollows. 
Reaching out, he grazes her IV line with his fingers, letting his hand brush her face tenderly as he walks past.
The woman’s whimpers rise into a steep pained cry that twists her features and dribbles quickly back to whimpering when she seems to realize that he has continued on walking, and isn’t going to linger to touch her more.
He takes you to the end of the hall. You hear the jingling of his key ring, the squeal of a turning handle.
The room inside is utterly unlike the rest of the hotel. Clean, tidy, well-furnished, well-lit. The cream colored wallpaper is spotless and adorned with charts boasting detailed portraits of various species of beetle and moth. All the furniture looks new.
He carries you to a long leather ottoman and starts to push it with his leg away from its resting place next to a bookshelf. In the middle of the room, he deposits you belly-down across it. Your arms fall limply to both sides. He steps out of view.
A radio crackles and sputters to life. Some melody plays faintly over it.
This is some sort of study.
You stare blankly at a locked glass case on the opposite end of the room as he moves somewhere behind you where you can’t see him. Sat upon the shelves are rows upon rows of insects preserved in jars of orange fluid.
Except some of them are very clearly not insects.
You shut your eyes, not caring to see what’s in those jars. Behind you, he opens a cabinet door, and starts to push a trolley cart with a squeaky wheel. You open your eyes when he gets too close.
There are two trays atop the cart. One white, one silver. You watch him lift a thin tool out of the silver tray, turning it over in the light, and your heart falls into your stomach.
It’s a scalpel. He’s holding a scalpel.
You launch right back into your desperate pleading frenzy.
Wait, wait, no no no, I’ll be good, I’ll be good—
The words come out as pitiful, slurred garbling. The drug has paralyzed your tongue.
His gloved hand shoots out. He seizes the underside of your jaw, cruelly. The pleading catches in your throat.
“No more of that.”
The order is stern, yet his voice remains unnervingly steady. It is the first you’ve ever heard him raise it above a whisper.
Fresh tears prick the corners of your eyes. You obey him without thought and fall silent.
From a desk in the corner, he pulls up a three-legged stool, and sits down next to you, knees level with your face. The simple proximity to him has your heart beating out of your chest. He wipes your back down with something cold and then his fingers alight to trace your shoulders gingerly. He rap-tap-taps the scalpel he’s about to use on you against the leg of the stool. 
Steadying you with a hand pressed flat on your back, he starts to work.
The bite of the scalpel is unforgiving. Your tears come fast. Before long you’re shrieking, sobbing, struggling to breathe. He doesn’t tell you to stop, doesn’t tell you to be quiet. His incisions are swift and skillful. You can feel the little flicks of his wrist as the blade sinks in and out of your back.
You see him wiping thin bloody slivers into the white tray on the rolling table, pieces of you. The sensation of the warm blood streaming down your back and shoulders turns you clammy and cold. He wipes the runny red up with a cloth from the trolley before it gets on his ottoman.
When it is over, your mind is soup.
You gape like a fish as you suck in shuddery breaths and stare blankly at his gloved hands as he sets the dripping scalpel down in its tray again, passing it through the light once more, watching it shimmer with your blood.
Your body flinches reflexively as he stands suddenly from the stool. Straddling you over the ottoman, he rearranges your legs to make room for him. His shins graze the back of your thighs as he sits. Pressing his palm flat against the small of your back, he traces your skin gingerly, examining his work. You whimper and cry. He pats your cheek.
Getting up, he goes to his desk. When he comes back you hear the click of a camera, the whirr of a picture printing. With two fingers, he slides a polaroid photo onto the ottoman, and tells you to look.
You tremble and cry. You don’t want to.
“Do I need to repeat myself?”
You obey him and look.
You start choking on your own sobs.
Butterfly wings. He’s given you butterfly wings. Wings with intricate, skillful patterns. Their graceful swooping tails reach all the way to your lower back. Bright red pools in the raw pink divots where he removed layers upon layers of your skin.
His hand closes firmly around your wrist. He cleans your fingers with a wipe. Rotating your hand behind you, he makes you feel the slippery cuts.
You whine at the sting, trembling in his strong grip. The wounds are just as deep as they look.
“It’s going to scar,” he states, matter-of-factly.
He leaves the polaroid sitting on the table next to your face as he begins to dress the wound. The cleaning hurts almost as much as the cutting, and though he’s being gentle now you think it would be more bearable if he was being cruel. His light brushes leave you trembling like a leaf.
On goes the adhesive bandaging. You watch him through shimmery tears as he gets up, goes to stand at the glass case, undoes the lock, and squats to reach the bottom shelf. He removes an empty jar and a bottle of preserving fluid.
Going back to the trolley, setting the jar down, he screws off the lid. The preserving fluid sloshes as he pours it inside. Reaching into the white tray, he carefully sets the thin pieces of what he sliced off of you into the preserving jar, one by one. You watch them flutter down and settle at the bottom. He screws the lid back on and writes something in cursive in black marker on the label. Going back to the case, he carefully moves aside a beetle specimen, and places his new collection piece on the top shelf.
He checks his watch. Peeling off his gloves, which are wet with your blood, he deposits them in a small trash can in the corner and removes a new pair from his back pocket.
He doesn’t put them on. When he walks past the ottoman he trails the gloves lightly across the nape of your neck. Your body winces and shudders. You don’t hear him shut the door as he leaves the room.
His confidence in his drug is accurate; by the time he comes back, the only movement you’re able to accomplish is a useless twitching of your fingers and toes.
You aren’t facing the right way so you can’t see the chains he’s holding in his hand but you can hear them and the sound makes a pang of dread explode inside of you. They clank and rattle as he drops them beside the ottoman. He greets you with another soft caress of your nape. His gloves are wet again, with someone else’s blood.
He peels off the dirtied second pair and doesn't bother putting on another.
He crosses your arms behind your bandaged back as you sob into the leather. Snap. The pair of thick shackles close around your wrists. The cuffs are tight and uncompromising. He measures the circumference of your neck with a measuring tape, wrapping it taut around your throat, holding it to the base of your skull with two fingers.
You make fragile broken whines as he fits a stiff steel collar around your neck. You hear the click of a padlock. His warm knuckles come down to stroke your cheek. 
His hands go under your body and he lifts you, sinking down on the ottoman in your place, splaying you across his lap. He grips the chain shackling your wrists behind your back, securing your arms tightly. In his shadow, you see him pull back his hand.
Whack.
A shattered sound rips out of you at the impact. You think for an instant that he has taken his knife out of his pocket and stabbed your backside.
With the next smack, you realize that it's his palm, and that he’s spanking you.
One more and you know he’s about to ruin your ass.
Ten seconds on and your sharp yelps are rising into screams. Thirty seconds and your cries are animal. Your cheeks are burning, blood rushing to the spanked area. His palm comes down again and again. 
You feel him switch hands. His fingers curl around the front of your throat, gripping you above your collar, hot from the friction of his slaps and your own swelling skin. He rests his palm on your bruised bottom, groping the stinging flesh.
“Count,” he orders. “Out loud.”
Whack.
You obey his order through tears, blurting out the numbers between strangled sobs.
Whack. Wham. Whack.
The slaps are brutal. He’s putting all his strength behind it. Your lips are trembling as you count your punishment. You realize you can feel his clothed erection pressing against your side and that makes you sob harder. 
At five, he stops. His hands leave your body, and you hear him fidgeting with his mask. The unlaced black fabric concaves in on itself as it falls to the floor, resting next to his boot.
You can’t look him in the face. You wouldn’t even if you could. You don’t want to see him. 
Gripping your jaw, lifting your chin, he presses his nose and mouth to your ear.
“Shh… Shh shh shh...” He shushes your whimpering quiet.
Brushing your cheek with his knuckles, he informs you that five is the number of days he’s going to feed you with nothing but the tube he’s about to shove down your throat.
360 notes · View notes
buttterknifeee · 3 years
Text
How long is forever? - Teen Titans x Aquagirl!Reader
Masterlist
Request: "Hello, May I request an episode insert in the Teen Titans episode 'How Long Is Forever?'"
Summary: Starfire takes a trip to the future... only to find out that you and the other Titans have disbanded. Will she find a way back to the present, or will you live an unfulfilling life forever?? (from S2 EP1)
Pairings: None
Word Count: 3919
A/N: Hey!!! sorry this took a while, it was super hard to write it due to most of it being in Starfire's POV. Most of the episodes in the series are centered around specific titans, so if you have an idea for an Aquagirl centered episode, feel free to send it in!!! (theres also a grand total of one cuss word in there)
Aquagirl’s Room - 2004
“Where is it? Where is it?” you mumble, tearing your room apart. You were looking for one of your CDs that you were in the mood for listening to. You threw your clothes into the air, looked under your bed, and even checked inside of your fish tank, holding the water containing a few tropical fish above you until you gave up. You sighed, finally checking the clock. You realized that you’ve been in your room for an hour and you haven’t even said hello to the other titans. You quickly change into your suit and head to the living room.
You stretched as you walked in. “Hey guys-” you stop in confusion at the scene in front of you. Starfire was standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, holding a bunch of necklaces and boxes and babbling something about “Blorthorg”, Beast Boy and Cyborg were brawling for a video game remote, Raven was reading silently and holding up a pair of nail clippers (?) telepathically, and Robin….
Anger bubbles up inside of you as you realize that he was in front of the stereo, blasting music. From your CD. You cross your arms as you march up to the Boy Wonder.
“Hey Rob, whatcha doing with my CD?” You say. “What, was Kelly Clarkson too quiet for you?”
Raven adds, “Yeah Robin, could the music be a little louder? I can still hear myself think.”
He glares at the two of you “I don’t listen- I only turned the music up to DROWN OUT ALL THE YELLING!!” He refers to the two boys. Cyborg now had Beast Boy in a headlock, holding the controller triumphantly.
“Whose turn is it now, tough guy? Whose turn is it now?” Cyborg taunts the green teen.
“Knock it off! I can't work with you two acting like idiots!” Robin yells.
“Work?? The only “work” I see you doing is stealing my stuff!” You snap.
“Great. More yelling will definitely stop the yelling.” Raven says, a sarcastic smirk on her face.
The three of you glared at each other, Cyborg and Beast Boy were still fighting, and one of Starfire’s necklaces broke, its beads tumbling onto the ground.
“STTTOOOOPPPPP!” the alien princess screamed. You stared at her in surprise. She took a deep breath and recomposed herself.
“ Friends must never behave this way, and especially not on Blorthog! Do you wish to invite the Rekmas?” she said.
“Gesundheit?” Beast Boy said, confused by her vocabulary.
“On my world, ‘Rekmas’ means ‘the Drifting.’” she explains. “The point at which close friends begin to drift apart, and their friendship begins to die.” She frowned. You immediately felt bad for all the yelling you did.
“Aw, come on, Starfire.” Cyborg comes to her side.
“We are so not Rek-whatever-ing.” Beast Boy reassures her.
“We're getting on each other's nerves a little. Big deal.” Raven says.
“Fighting’s just a part of life. As long as we resolve it, we’ll be fine.” You say.
“Yeah. This is just typical roommate stuff. We're not going to drift apart, Star. I promise. We'll all be friends forever.” Robin declares
“Forever?” Starfire asks. Before you could answer, Robin’s T-communicator beeped. The communicator was flashing red, and he turned to you and the others.
“Titans! Trouble!” he says. You all rush out of the Tower and into the city.
You find the “trouble” in the Jump City museum. It was a man wearing black and gold armor and a goatee: Warp. He was monologuing to a bunch of guards that he had frozen.
“I didn't journey back in time one hundred years to squabble, I came to steal.” You see him reaching for one of the clocks. “The Clock of Eternity. Valuable in the past, priceless in the future.” Robin steppeds forward, throwing his birdirang to knock Warp’s hand back.
“But for the present...you'll keep your filthy hands off it.” He says, announcing the Titans’ entrance. The man turns to the six of you.
"The Teen Titans. This is a treat. I read all about you in the historical archives. And now, you're all history!” He fires his laser at you all.
“Titans! Go!” Robin yells as you scramble to dodge his rays. He blocks Warp’s rays with his staff, but at the last shot the staff breaks, and he backed up. Starfire blasts her starbolts at him, but the bolts ricochet off of him and hits her, sending her to the ground. You and Beast Boy attack him now, a stream of water lifting you into the air by your feet. You put your hands in front of you and a jet of water blasts out of your hands, heading straight for Warp. He held his hand us as the water made contact with him, and froze the water. The ice traveled up the jet of water and onto your hands, encasing them in the long shard of ice. You fell, the weight of the ice dragging you down. You winced as you saw Beast Boy meet a similar fate, his animal form frozen in ice next to you. You struggled to free your hands as Cyborg and Raven both went down. Robin gives one last attempt to take Warp down, running towards him.
“You cannot defeat Warp. I am from the future.” He says, throwing disks towards Robin. He dove to the side as the projectiles exploded. “And your relics are one hundred years out of date." He grabs the clock and presses a blue lens from his armor. Suddenly, a blinding white portal forms in front of him. Your hands were still stuck so you had to squint.
“Ta-ta, Titans. I have enjoyed our time together, but I've got a very bright future ahead of me.” He sneers, stepping through the portal. You finally pull your hands out of the chunk of ice just in time to see Starfire slam into Warp, sending the two of them into the portal.
“Starfire!” Robin yells, trying to dive in after her, only for the portal to close and him to fall on the floor. You pull him up from the ground and look around. Starfire was gone.
Titan’s Tower-2024
Starfire couldn’t believe what was going on. After tackling Warp, she ripped off the lens on his suit and ended up in Jump City, 20 years into the future. She found Cyborg alone in the rotting Titans Tower, hooked up to a large battery. He explained that the day she left, the Titans fell apart, and disbanded soon after. He told her that the others can help her get back to the present, telling her where to find you, Beast Boy, and Raven.
She found herself at a circus whilst looking for Beast Boy. There in a cage, sat Beast Boy, changing into various animals. She approached the cage as he turned back into his human form. He was now a pudgy old man, with a great deal of hair loss. He looked at her with wide eyes through the bars.
“No way! It's you. But how?” he asked, peering at her with his wrinkled eyes.
“I require your help.” Starfire said.
“What kinda help?” Beast Boy asked.
“The future is not as it should be. We must find Warp. I will free you from this--” Beast Boy stopped Starfire from continuing her sentence.
“This cage isn't to keep me in! It's to keep those maniacs out!” he explained in a panicked tone, referring to a group of kids. “Look. After the Titans broke up, I tried the whole solo-hero thing. Got my butt kicked, a lot. So now, well…”
He turned into a chicken briefly to illustrate his point. “ Besides, I'm in the showbiz now.” Starfire could tell he wasn’t happy with where he was, but there was nothing she could do. She left Beast Boy and went to find Raven.
She found Raven in a room in a broken down building. She was standing in a pure white room, wearing a white cloak to match. Her back was facing Starfire when she arrived.
“Raven?” she squeaked, inching into the room. “Raven, it is Starfire, your friend”
“No such thing.” she groaned, her back still facing Starfire. Starfire’s eyebrows furrowed.
“Please, Raven I-”
“Just another figment. Don’t even look.”
“You must listen! I am here because-” she pleads, but Raven stops her.
“I’m never coming back! Go away!” she yells, Starfire backing up in fear. “It has to go away. Just like before. Just like all the others.” Starfire frowns in realization. She must not think I’m real; she thinks it's all in her head.
“Your mind.” she says softly, approaching the cloaked woman. “Without friends, you must have--” Starfire was about to touch Raven, but her familiar dark shield formed around her. She gasps, then eventually leaves the room in defeat. There was one last person she could try talking to. You.
She walked by the Jump City beach, the same place where you got your powers all those years ago. Suddenly, you rose out of the ocean, the water around you carrying you onto shore. Your face was stuck in a permanent glare, different to your constant smiles as a teen. You were taller, definitely had a few wrinkles, and you were wearing Atlantean clothing. Starfire flinched at your sudden arrival.
“Aquagirl! how-”
“I don’t go by Aquagirl anymore. I am Queen (y/n), ruler of Atlantis. And word gets around when one of your old teammates who had disappeared 20 years ago is roaming Jump City again, even at the bottom of the ocean.” You say coldly, eyeing her as she shrunk at the sight of you.
“What had happened to you, my friend?” she asked.
You sigh, recalling your memories. “After you disappeared and the team disbanded, I vowed to never be as soft and vulnerable as I was then. I moved to Atlantis, and was eventually appointed ruler.”
“Oh my, that sounds terrible!” Starfire exclaimed. “I need your help my friend-”
“No.”
“No?”
“No. It’s not terrible, I am quite fine just the way I am. And we were friends 20 years ago; things have changed.” You turn your back to her. “I must get going; there’s much I need to do.” Starfire stares at you in sadness as you walk back into the ocean, the water swallowing you up and the waves lapping like normal.
Starfire trudges through the snow-covered city, when a laser blast knocks her back. Her eyes raise to meet with Warp’s, his weapon aimed at her.
“What’s the matter, dear? Have I come at a bad time?” he snarls, opening fire once more. She dodges his shots and fires back, but the starbolts simply bounce off his modern armor. She tried to hit him close up but he held up his hand and ice formed around her midair. The large chunk of ice containing Starfire drops and shatters, leaving Starfire on the ground, shivering. She glares at Warp, who now has deeper wrinkles on his face.
“You have become so old,” she notes, still on the ground.
“That's what happens when someone steals my vortex regulator.” he says, holding out his hand. “The regulator, if you please. I really must get back to my future.” She stands up and takes the lens out from her belt. She couldn’t let him leave, especially when she’s stuck in a future like this. She held the disk next to her and warmed up a starbolt, as if to hold it hostage.
“If you ever wish to see your future you will repair the damage you have done to my past!” she yelled, anger bubbling up inside her. The villain laughed.
“Damage? Silly girl. There's nothing wrong with your past. One cannot damage history, because history cannot be changed.” He held up the clock and continued. “I went back in time to steal this because history says it disappeared. And history says it disappeared because I went back to steal it. Past, present, future. It's all written in stone, my dear.”
Starfire stood in disbelief dropping her glowing hand. No… this can't be the future we’re destined to live. Such terrible lives… she thought. Warp walked up to her shocked state and took the lens out of her hand.
“And nothing you do can ever change it.” he scoffed. Warp prepared to blast her when he was knocked into the alleyway by an unknown figure. Starfire snapped back into reality and looked around for you had knocked the villain back. A dark silhouette lept forward and threw Warp against the end wall of the alley. They threw disks at the villain, the area around him exploding. When the smoke cleared, Starfire could see that Warp had used a force field. He released his shield only to be met with the mysterious figure dropping down towards him. He stared straight at Starfire.
“Another time, perhaps.” he said. Before the shadowed person could reached him, he dropped into the ground. The person who had tried to fight him landed right where Warp had been, and as they straightened up, Starfire inched forward to see who it was.
“It’s good to see you again.” the person said. Starfire could recognize that voice from anywhere, and apparently, anytime.
“Robin?” she asked.
“I haven’t used that name in a long time.” he said, finally stepping out of the shadows. He looked nothing like the Boy Wonder she knew. His traffic-light esque uniform was replaced by a black suit with a blue bird on the front. He still wore a mask and he now had long, black hair.
“Call me… Nightwing.”
Starfire found herself in Robin’s (or Nightwing’s) base. She looked at a glass case of his old uniform, a feeling of melancholy washing over her. She was glad that he was ok, but the Robin she once knew was now nothing more than a mannequin display. Nightwing wrapped a blanket around her with a small smile.
Nightwing finally spoke. “So I’ve heard you’ve been looking for help.”
Starfire sighed. “There is nothing you can do. There is nothing anyone can do. The past cannot be repaired, the future cannot be altered, no matter how wrong it seems.”
“So it’s impossible.” Nightwing determined from her rant, walking towards a bunch of computers. “Good. If memory serves, we've done the impossible before.”
Nightwing’s words had surprised Starfire. None of the others had said anything as hopeful since she’d arrived here. A small fire of hope blossomed inside of her.
“I held on to this,” Nightwing says, pressing a button from a device. “...just in case.” Starfire’s eyes widened, realizing that it was a T-communicator. The communicator began to flash red, and to Starfire’s delight, so did her neck piece and wrist guard.
At the bottom of the ocean, you sat on a throne, talking to your advisers. As they left, your seashell necklace began to flash red. You looked at it in surprise, recognizing what it meant: it was an emergency signal that Robin had put in your necklace while you were still in a team. Even after 20 years, he had never used it until now. You began to get up from your throne when a group of your advisors came back, swarming you with scrolls and questions. You sat back down, a bitter feeling in your throat.
Beast Boy’s belt had flashed red whilst he was performing a trick in his animal form. He quickly jumped back into human form. He observed his belt for a moment before stepping back, hanging his head.
Cyborg's robotic eye flashed red as he sat alone in the Titans Tower. He immediately got up and started towards the door, only to be stopped by the wires keeping him alive and stuck inside the tower. He looks back at the power source.
Raven still stands alone in the room, her back facing the door. The brooch of her cloak flashes red, and without looking at it, she covers it with her hand.
Starfire and Nightwing venture to Jump City museum, where they find Warp, fixing his time travel suit. He wields the lens that he took from Starfire to his suit, whilst talking to himself.
“Tick-tock.” he laughs. “Just a few more seconds, and I shall finally--” his sentence was cut off by Nightwing knocking the tool out of his hand, revealing him and Starfire’s position.
“The future will have to wait.” Nightwing says, extending his staff. “You just ran out of time.”
Warp growls and fires laser beams at them, causing them to split up to avoid getting hit. Starfire shoots her starbolts at Warp again, despite them getting deflected by his force field. Nightwing however, jumped down on him again, using his staff to crush one of his lasers. He turns to face Nightwing, but Starfire lands a hit on his back with her starbolt. He tries to laser Starfire but has to dodge Nightwing’s staff attacks that barely strike him. He fights quickly and with fury, eventually knocking Warp flat on his back. The two heroes step close to him to inspect him. But Warp grins, and uses his second laser to blow a hole through the roof, snow and rubble falling onto Starfire.
“Star!” Nightwing yells, but Warp blasts him back with his laser. Warp runs over to the tool he dropped and started repairing his suit again as Nightwing helped Starfire up. Suddenly, he was blasted back by a familiar blue ray. Starfire and Nightwing turn to see Cyborg, his arm cannon smoking, but being able to function without any wires.
“Boo-yah” he says with a grimace.
“Cyborg!” Starfire exclaims, flying over to the half robot. “You are repaired!”
“Glad you could make it,” Nightwing says, joining them.
“Wouldn't have missed it. Now who said y'all could start without me?” Cyborg said as Warp stood back up.
“So sorry,” Warp said, holding up another device. “Perhaps I should finish you first!” Before he could use the device, he was attacked by a green lion, Beast Boy. Warp looked at the lens he was repairing, now crackling with electricity. In anger, he pointed a laser at him, but a jet of water shot up from the floor. You ran into view, a trident now in your hand.
“Heard you guys needed help!” you yell, a hint of a smile peeking out from your stoic face.
Before Warp could fall to the ground again, he is overtaken by magic, and thrown into the side of the wall. Raven materializes, still wearing a white cloak.
“Nobody hurts my friends,” she said, reminiscent of the first time you met her.
“Dude, that is so unfair,” Beast Boy whines, comparing his bald head to Nightwing’s flowing hair. The six Titans turn to see Warp, who has managed to create a wormhole, despite his suit being damaged.
“It seems my time has come,” Warp said, preparing to walk through the wormhole. Nightwing threw a birdarang at Warp, Warp throwing his own disk to intercept it. Starfire watched in awe as the birdirang sliced through Warp’s disk and hit him in the chest, right where the lens sat.
“Uh?! No! NOOOOO!” the six of you watched in horror as Warp regressed in age until he was nothing more than a screaming infant.
“Ok, I am not changing any diapers.” Beast Boy said, staring at the baby.
Cyborg looked at Starfire. “We gotta get you home. Come on!” he pointed at the wormhole, which was shrinking. He took the lens from the suit and put it in his arm cannon. He fired at the wormhole, making it bigger.
“Im redirecting the wormhole.” Cyborg said, turning to Starfire. “Starfire! Go!” She steps towards the portal and looks back at her friends. Their lives seemed so lonely and.. dissatisfying. Is this life they were destined to live?
“Please, must this really be our future?” She asked. The rest of you looked at her silently, sadness in your eyes. “Is there nothing I can do to change it?” Nightwing stepped up and looked directly into her eyes.
“I'm sorry, Star. There isn't time.” Nightwing said. He placed the clock that Warp had stolen in her hand and his other hand on her shoulder. He gives her one last smile before stepping back towards the other Titans, beckoning her to enter the portal. Starfire took a deep breath, and walked into the portal.
Jump City Museum - 2004
“Ta-ta, Titans. I have enjoyed our time together, but I've got a very bright future ahead of me.” He sneers, stepping through the portal. You finally pull your hands out of the chunk of ice just in time to see Starfire slam into Warp, sending the two of them into the portal.
“Starfire!” Robin yells, trying to dive in after her, only for the portal to close and him to fall on the floor. You pull him up from the ground and look around. Starfire was gone.
“Oh my god,” you whispered.
Beast Boy stared at the place the portal was. “Um, where did she-?”
Another portal opens with a brilliant flash between Beast Boy and Cyborg. Starfire falls out, curled around an item. You all rushed towards her.
“Dude!”
“Whoa!”
“Star! What happened?” Robin asked as the portal behind her closed.
“History said it disappeared.” Starfire said, straightening and revealing the clock warp had just stolen. “But history was wrong!”
The boys stared at her dumbstruck but you laughed, diving in for a hug.
You stood with the other titans as Starfire recounted her story. You covered your mouth in awe to find out what happened to you and the others in the future.
“Then Nightwing handed me the clock and I entered the vortex.” she finished.
“Woah,” Raven said, shocked by the recount of Starfire’s story.
“Bald?!” Beast Boy yells, grabbing at his hair. “You're telling me I'm going to be bald?!”
“Gosh, Star, all of our lives seem so terrible,” you say, thinking about what Starfire had said about you. You were a queen (which was cool), but you were also a cold hearted bitch (super uncool). You didn’t want that to happen, and more importantly for you to no longer be friends with the other Titans.
“Guess you were right about all that Rekmas stuff,” Cyborg said, slightly concerned.
“I don't want us to drift apart. Does it all have to happen? Isn't there anything we can-” Robin worries out loud, but Starfire stops him.
“Our friendship has already changed Warp's past. I believe it can also change our future.” Starfire says with a smile.
“Yeah I mean, the original reason we “broke up” was because of Starfire disappearing, and since she’s here now, we aren’t breaking up!” You chimed in, grinning at the other Titans.
Raven picks up the broken necklace with her telekinesis, stringing them back together.
“So… is it too late to do this festival-of-friendship thing?” she asks.
Starfire’s eyes sparkled. “Oh, it’s never too late!”
You all put on the bulbous necklaces Starfire brought in the morning.
“HAPPY BORTHOG!!!” Cyborg cheers.
“I thought it was Blort-Hog,” Beast Boy wondered.
“Okay, I feel like a wind-chime.” Raven groans.
“A very cool wind-chime,” you winked.
Starfire put the last necklace on Robin. He raises an eyebrow at her.
“So… Nightwing, huh?” he asked.
“Don’t even think about it bird brain,” you yelled from across the room, causing him to blush. You all burst out into laughter. The tower stayed cheerful the rest of the night.
203 notes · View notes
liz-allyn · 3 years
Text
shudder, part 5/6 [agent mobius x gn!reader]
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After disaster places your life in danger, Mobius makes a consequential choice.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Series Summary: Pre-Loki series. You are one of the most dangerous variants the TVA has ever recovered, but Mobius knows what makes you tick. Five times he made you shudder, and the one time you returned the favor.
Words: 4k
Chapter Warnings/Tags: Language; Graphic Violence; Whump; Angst; Panic Attack; Hurt/Comfort; If the movie Titanic stresses you out too much-this isn't for you, chief; Mobius x reader
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V.
2889. Hell was erupting on the planet of Olympus-V in its final hours.
A fierce rainstorm barreled down on the alien world’s rocky cliff face. A dangerous surf crashed on the rocks, the sea threatening to scale the cliffs. The sky glowed crimson, illuminated by a Red Giant that was hours from its own collapse. The red light gave the rainstorm an eerie hue. It looked like it was raining blood.
The landscape was crowned by the fiery wreckage of an alien ship. It was the intended getaway vessel of a dangerous variant that managed to escape your team through a hijacked Time Door. Your team followed him boldly, not realizing it was never a getaway. It was a suicide mission. And you walked right into a kamikaze attack.
The variant was dead. Eight other Minutemen were dead. Your still-sorta-new analyst partner was dead. B-15 was badly wounded and unresponsive. You and C-20 were stumbling through the corridors of the ship, both sporting nasty head wounds, as you dragged-carried B-15 towards refuge.
Catastrophe was a mild description, never mind the looming apocalypse outside.
“Help!” another voice rang out from the distance. It was U-91. “Somebody help me!”
You turned towards the sound of the man’s voice, stopping in your tracks. You looked at C-20.
The ground beneath your feet was subtly moving, quaking the ship with every inch. The rocky soil beneath you was giving way under the weight of the wreckage. You and C-20 knew that soon the ship would be a fireball at the bottom of the cliff. But you couldn’t leave him behind.
“Go,” you ordered. “Get her outta here.”
You turned around and rushed back into the smoke and flames. C-20 watched you anxiously as you disappeared. She carried on her rescue mission, dragging B-15 towards a temporarily opened Time Door that would lead them safely back to TVA HQ. It would stay open, as long as the ship didn’t crumble down the cliff.
You were alone again, covering your mouth with your jacket sleeve, following the painful groans as they grew louder.
“I’m over here!” U-91 hollered, his voice echoing down a corridor that was bent nearly vertically. You spotted his position, flush against the ground, but you would have to scale walls of the hallway at a steep angle to reach him. “I’m stuck on something!” he shouted.
“Hang on!” you replied. You approached the base of the corridor with trepidation. Carefully and quickly, you began to climb up the hallway via the walls. You gripped door frames, pipes, handles - anything that you could use to scale the corridor.
“Where’s A-19,” the Minuteman shouted about his partner. “I can’t find A-19!” He sounded panicked, which was never good.
“Hang on, I’m almost there!”
“Did you find A-19?”
You didn’t immediately reply, seeing from your vantage point what he could not. U-91 was less than 10 feet from you, and was truly “stuck.”
His leg was impaled on a ripped pipe that had torn away from the wall in the crash. He was hanging there helplessly by his limb. You winced at the sight and scanned your eyes over the area. You locked on to another gruesome sight: the body of his partner of many years, A-19, crushed by a beam just feet away..
“I c-can’t move,” U-91 said with a choked-out sob. You’d never seen this hunter anything less than tough-as-nails. But now he was weeping. “I-I… I can’t find A-19.”
“It’s okay,” you said as calmly as you could.His wailing broke your heart. “I’m going to get you.”
The final hurdle was going to be just that. You needed to jump up and reach the top of the doorframe to be able to free U-91. You glanced down the corridor warily.
The ship growled impatiently as it shifted another inch.
You used all your strength to leap up in the air and catch the doorframe. You’re pretty sure you sprained your shoulder, if you hadn’t already in the crash. You struggled to keep a firm grip as you shimmied to reach him.
While supporting his weight, you pulled the pipe downwards and freed him. His weight fell on you, unleashing cries from you both. But you didn’t let go.
U-91 looked at you blearily, body wracked with pain and exhaustion. He froze. His eyes went black. You knew exactly whose body he could finally see.
“No,” he cried out pitifully. “No!”
“We have to go!” you implored him. “The ship is unstable and we’re going to fall.”
He couldn’t take his eyes off of his partner’s body.
You held him tightly, and looked down the corridor to where you began. This part was basically a giant slide if you aimed just right. Just like at a water park. Piece of cake.
You said a brief prayer and leaned U-91’s weight across your chest as you both slid down the walls of the corridor. You landed with a harsh thud and U-91 cried out again in agony.
You looked up at the Time Door, still open where you left it - where C-20 and B-15 had already made their escape. It was just you and U-91 alone. If you ran now, you could make it.
“You did this,” you heard U-91 moan beside you. He was delirious; you could only imagine the immense physical and emotional pain he was in. “We should’ve never followed you—”
His sentiments burned like acid, but you shook them off. “Come on!” you hissed, using all of your strength to pull him onto your back. Your shoulder was buckling from the weight, still ravaged from your last injury in the field.
Maybe you were bad luck. Maybe U-91 had a point.
“I need you to walk!” you ordered him.
“You killed us,” U-91 repeated through chattering teeth. “You killed us...”
You tried to throw him on your back and carry him fireman-style towards the exit. Four steps in and you lost your balance. Both of you fell to the ground as the ship started quaking. This time, it didn’t stop.
You felt a strong hand grip your upper arm and yank you to your feet. For a moment you expected to see C-20 back to rescue you. Your heart skipped a beat at who you saw instead.
Mobius pulled you up close until you were nearly nose-to-nose. You gaped at him like a literal deus ex machina come down from the heavens to deliver salvation. He wasn’t supposed to be on this mission. He wasn’t on the mission. How did he get here—?
The Time Door. He went through the Time Door. He came there for you.
“We gotta move!” Mobius shouted as the vibrations jolted you both into action. He reached down and grabbed hold of U-91, and you grabbed the injured man’s other side. It was much quicker to carry the man down the hallway until you were steps away from the time door.
Then the ground shifted, and your world was upside down.
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When you came to, the first thing you felt was the cold. You were laying on the ceiling of the ship.
There was a voice echoing— Mobius’ voice. He was crouched down over you shouting something that you couldn’t hear.
You noticed his TVA flank jacket and tie. Paired with the mustache he looked like a detective on a procedural cop show. This stupidly-handsome, hero time cop walked into an apocalypse to save you, now stared down at you with wide, terrified eyes.
That’s when you realized you couldn’t move.
“Stay with me,” he implored, as he lifted your head out of the water.
With your ears clear, you could finally hear the chaos around you. A symphony of groans from twisting metal squealed and cracked through the halls of the ship. You could hear another crushing sound on top of the din. Rushing water.
You lifted your head to see why you were cold. You were laying in rising water with your hips pinned to the ground by a fallen steel door. Mobius was pulling up on the door desperately trying to free you.
Your heart began to pound.
The ship had fallen off the cliff into the ocean below. You were now sinking, the wreckage falling deeper into the sea, with you trapped inside.
You saw water rushing in through the hallways, filling all the corridors. It surrounded you. It was going to bury you.
“Agent Mobius!” you heard from a distance. “Get through the portal!”
You turned your head to see two Minutemen shouting as they dragged the injured U-91 through a flickering Time Door. They were so far away.
“Get help!” Mobius ordered frantically. “I can’t lift it off of her!”
“We can’t keep it open!” one of their voices echoed back. “Sir, you gotta get out bef—”
The door shorted out and vanished. And now, you were both trapped. .
“Mobius…” you exclaimed, barely able to breathe through your terror.
The water was rising quickly. Mobius glanced down at you again, and he reached down deeper to get a grip on your restraints. You both struggled and grunted, but the door only slid a little further without freeing you.
You were allowed a little more space to breathe, and were able to lift your torso a little higher out of the water. The relief was short-lived. The water was flowing rapidly and neither of you were strong enough.
“Damn it!” he roared in frustration.
You glanced around frantically and spotted an opportunity. “Look! There!”
He followed the end of your finger to a pipe nearby. He was on his feet immediately, kicking the piece of metal loose as you continued to try to push the door off of you. Once he broke the pipe free, he brought it over to you and stuck it in the space between your body and the watery ground, driving it down deep beside your leg. He gripped the pole tight and lifted with all of his might.
You pushed up on the door as he shouted, his muscles burning. You were shifting and thrashing like a fish in the frigid water until you were finally able to pull your hips out. You kicked furiously in the tiny crawl space until your legs were freed.
Mobius dropped the weight, and collapsed on his hands and knees. You were reaching for him desperately, your fingers aching to hold him. He wrapped his arms around you, embracing you tightly, as you both kneeled in the ocean water.
A sob escaped your lips as you buried your face in his neck. “You came back for me…” Your body shook as you cried like a child.
He tightened his hold on you and you felt the hair of his mustache graze the delicate skin of your neck.
“Of course,” he replied.
You wanted to hold onto him forever, letting the tears flow freely down your cheeks. It was the greatest act of love that anyone had ever shown you. And it was about to be the last.
Your eyes focused ominously on other imminent danger pounding its way through the doors.
“Moby...” you shuddered as he pulled you up to your feet. The water level was crawling up your thighs, rushing in from everywhere.
He snapped into action, grabbed you by the wrist, and pulled you back down the (inverted) hallway where the Time Door once stood. You took giant strides to push through the current towards a less-submerged part of the corridor.
It became easier to run, but everywhere you looked, your nightmares were coming to life. Your brain began to cease; your mind locked up. You were being paralyzed by terror.
Mobius was shouting something again, but you only caught part of it.
“...outer ring of the ship. If we swim we can make it.”
“What?” you blinked incredulously. He pointed towards a submerged hallway. A water-filled tunnel into the deep darkness. You looked up at him with wide eyes, horrified at his suggestion.
“The ship’s emergency systems would’ve opened the door passages in the event of a crash,” Mobius rushed to explain. “The way should be clear. If we swim now, we can make it out of the ship and up to the surface.”
You were shaking your head, trembling uncontrollably.
“We can do this,” Mobius breathed, pulling you towards the deeper end of the water.
“No-no-no,” you shrank away from his grip. “No, please, no..!”
“We don’t have a choice!” he exclaimed, wrapping his arms around you. He took a breath and calmed himself once more, “We’re running out of time.”
“Please, don’t make me!” You were crying again. “I-I-I can’t, I’ll drown.”
“No, you won’t—”
“You don’t know where you’re going! You don’t know if there’s even a way out!”
“We have to try,” he explained, meeting your pleas with calm declarations. “If we don’t, we’re gonna die in here. The more we wait, the deeper we sink.”
He had stopped pulling you towards the water, but he wouldn’t let you pull away. He held your body close to him, and for a moment you thought he’d drag you under. He was begging you not to give him a reason.
“Please icanticantocant…” You gripped his chest desperately.
His hands went to the sides of your head, a placating touch matched with a stern voice. “Look at me,” he ordered. He was once again that person that you’d met in the time theater: calm, compassionate, but equally authoritative and focused. “Look at me,” he repeated. You did, and that was the last time he’d ever have to give you directions twice.
You reached up and covered his hands with your own as he held your face. His dark orbs were gentle as they drew you in, hypnotizing you into a vague sense of calm.
He was reading you again—reading and dictating the pages of your mind, writing miracles in the margins of your nightmares.
“You can do this,” he declared with resolve. He whispered to you at a frequency you could hear, even over the crashing current. “You’re the best hunter we have. I’ve seen what you can do.” He gazed at you like he could see the sun rise through your eyes. “You can do anything.”
Your heart swelled and ached.
“I swear to you,” he said softly, as if in prayer, “you will make it to the surface.” He touched his forehead to yours as he wiped the tears from your face with his calloused thumbs. “You’re not going to drown.”
He sounded so confident. Like it was already written and he’d read it many times before, and this was all just another page in the chronicles of the Sacred Timeline. You wanted to believe him. He was asking you to believe him.
That was the moment you realized it.
He was the only thing in the universe that mattered to you.
You couldn’t fathom a version of your story without him in it. You believed in him. And even if he was wrong, it was worth dying for.
You wanted to cry out; to tell him all of the things you felt for him - that you loved him, and would die for him, and wanted nothing more than to be back in his bed at the TVA where he could hold you and tell you that the nightmares were over and that you were safe with him.
“Okay?” he said to you, his eyes fixed.
You blinked at him, and gave him a gentle nod. “Okay.”
He took your hand in his and walked you into the icy water. You were soaked already but your body jolted from the shocking cold.
“We need to slow down our heart rates,” Mobius explained. “Preserve the oxygen a little longer, alright? So we’re going to take five deep breaths - together, then we go under, okay? I’ll give you the signal when it’s safe to breathe.”
You nodded, despite your terror. You couldn’t take your eyes off him, trying to burn into your memory every line and curve of his face.
“Just don’t leave me behind, okay?” you pleaded with him meekly. You didn’t even think about what you’d said until it was done. His eyes softened as they rested on you. “Promise you’ll stay with me?” you asked.
He contemplated you, then reached out and pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead.
“Always,” he promised.
You both turned towards the water, then back to each other. “Okay, five deep breaths,” he instructed. “In and out. Through your nose.” You filled your chest with air and exhaled deeply.
“That’s one,” he counted. “Pull in from the diaphragm.” Mobius rested his hand on your stomach and watched it move with your next inhale and exhale.
“Two.” Another deep breath. He removed his hand from your belly and grasped your hand. There was no way you were going to let it go.
“Three.”
You were gazing into his eyes again, losing yourself in their warm earthy tones.
“Four. One more, in and out.”
You pulled the air in through your nose and out through your mouth, in sync with him.
“Five. Deep breath.”
You filled your lungs as tightly as you could, and dived beneath the surface with him.
It was so much darker than you’d expected. You might as well have been swimming through a starry sky, and in your mind that’s what you wanted to pretend. There were brief flashes - sparks from blown fuses, mostly - that would illuminate your surroundings. You pretended they were flares from stars dying out as you swam through the milky way.
The water was so cold. It was the kind of cold that your skin doesn’t acclimate to. You started counting in your mind as your feet kicked. You weren’t sure how long you'd been holding your breath, but you’d only made it down the first hallway. Mobius pulled you around another corner, continuing on to some blind destination.
How did he know where he was going? You didn’t let your mind dwell on it, as you felt your heart start to pound under the exertion. He knows about space ships, probably an expert. An expert on space ships and jetskis.
Down another corridor. It was getting darker. Were you supposed to be swimming up, or down? You were moving so slow although every muscle in your body struggled to propel you forward. Maybe the cold was slowing you down.
Your chest was burning.
Mobius was still kicking and pulling himself through the water, holding your hand tightly. He was a strong swimmer. Fit for his age, which was… 1,000? Time moved differently in the TVA, so you didn’t know. He was moving slower now, you noticed. Or maybe time was slowing down. Maybe you were drowning already.
God, your chest hurts.
You reached another intersection. He hesitated, looking back and forth briefly. Your mind registered the brief pause, but before you began to panic he pulled you along.
The stars had all gone out. It was so dark.
You kept thrusting your arms deeper through the water, picking up the pace. They were burning from lack of oxygen, but it only made you fight harder.
Mobius pulled you to a stop and you went through another door. It was an elevator shaft of some kind, and the sparks above illuminated the path forward.
Bright lights were filling your gaze, but not from the sparks.
You kept kicking. You could see light. Red light.
Mobius is pulling you forward now. The opening is right there. You’re almost out of the ship and can see the red glow of the surface.
Every thrust of your arms makes them weaker. Like you’re swimming in molasses.
Your lungs are on fire. You’re kicking freely past the confines of the ship. The surface is getting brighter. How deep were you - maybe 40 feet? 30 feet?
You weren’t going to make it.
You were running out of air fast. Your body was beginning to convulse as Mobius held you against him. The world around you was getting brighter and darker.
You weren’t going to make it. You were running out of time.
Mobius stopped his upward push and for the first time you could feel he was losing it too. He let go of your hand, but grabbed the sides of your face. His mouth was on yours, and he gripped the knape of your neck.
That’s when you felt it. The double-squeeze. The signal.
You breathed inwards instinctively before you realized what he was doing. He emptied the last bit of oxygen into your lungs and you felt his grip soften.
It wasn’t much, but it was enough to save you from blacking out. You felt his touch disappear. Your hand shot out through the water and gripped him by the arm. You turned your gaze up to the surface and kicked as hard as you could, reaching up for the sky.
No, no, no, no, no.
You were busy trying to convince your mind that this wasn’t really happening. That Mobius was not limp in the current beneath you. You climbed furiously upwards. 15 feet. 10 feet. 5 feet.
Your head ripped through the surface as you gasped for air, choking on the blistering pain. Rain pelted your face as you kicked to stay afloat on the surface. “Mobius!” you cried out as you dragged him up above the water. His head rolled back in a way that gutted you.
You glanced around frantically as a wave crested over you both, filling your mouth with sea water. You spat as you broke through the surface again, kicking even harder to keep him afloat.
You started swimming towards the shore. The tide allowed you to ride the current most of the way. It was dumb luck. You probably would have drowned otherwise.
You held Mobius tight, fighting to keep his head above water, as another surge pushed you forward. A beachhead at the base of the cliff was visible in your sights. One more wave and you both washed up on the crystalline white sand of the shore.
Every muscle in your body throbbed, but you didn’t stop. You squirmed to your feet and dragged your partner with all of your strength further up the beach.
He wasn’t moving. You crouched down beside him, your body shaking with terror. You dropped your ear to his mouth.
He wasn’t breathing.
“No... no, Mobius...”
Your teeth were chattering cold while hot tears flooded down your cheeks. Your mind struggled frantically to process a solution.
You stacked your hands firmly in the center of his chest and sat up on your knees, counting each compression under your breath.
After the count of ten, you tilted his head back, opening his airway, pinched his nose and breathed deeply into his lungs. Tears were falling freely from your eyes onto his face, and you choked back a sob after your second breath did not resuscitate him.
“No,” your voice was thick with anger. “No - you promised me.”
You repeated the process of CPR, compressing his chest and breathing into his mouth to no avail.
“You promised me, you son of a bitch,” you hissed. “You promised you’d stay with me!”
You shoved the heel of your palm into his chest even harder. Your shoulders were filled with a strength that the rest of your body was drained of. This was worse than heartbreak. Your soul was crumbling.
“Please don’t leave,” you were begging. “Please come back... Please, I need you...”
A cough sprang forth from his throat as water shot up from his mouth.
The rush of joy winded you and knocked you to your elbows. Mobius turned his head and expelled the rest of the sea water from his lungs, coughing harshly, his whole body shaking.
You were shaking too, not just from the cold.
“God,” you breathed, overcome with immeasurable relief. Hearing him gasp for air was the closest you’d ever come to heaven.
You laid your head on his chest as silent cries racked your body. You were now a disciple, a humble and devout witness to whatever miracle brought you two together. You squeezed your eyes shut as you listened to the sound of his heartbeat, the gentle sound of each blessed breath. And you worshipped him.
“S-See,” he said with a cough, that sly smirk on his face. “To-toldya w-we’d make it.”
And for that comment, you were going to kill him.
Part 6
A/N: Ok kids, the next chapter is straight up hard R-rated. Like X-rated. Like. The. Whole. Chapter. I’ve never written anything like this. And it’s long! Is that weird? I keep thinking 4k words of smut is like… whoa… Your thoughts in the comments, please. Part of me also just wants to cut the smut in the middle but that would be cruel, right?
Did you like this chapter? Reblog & let me know! If you're not tagged, it's because I couldn't tag you.
@generalhugzzz @isaxbella749 @yodaboo @aloyssia
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apocalypticgargoyle · 3 years
Text
𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙀𝙉𝘿. ҂ 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢
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request:
Hi!! Idk if you’re taking requests rn lol but I was wondering if you can write a clay imagine? It can be smut or anything lol
pairing: dream x fm!reader
warnings: nsfw (18+ minors dni), smut, calling dream clay, cliche apocalypse au, blood, kinda sad ngl
word count: ~3000
links: ao3
a/n: Hi everyone. I have no idea what this is, but if you like it let me know! I was struggling with coming up with something for dream but here we are on a crackpot tangent. N E WAY, thank you for all your support and requests! Have a great week and happy reading ♡ ᵍᵉⁿᵉ
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Soapy bubbles clung to your arms as you pressed your hands into the hot water, sighing as you reached the bottom of the sink. You didn’t care about the murky discoloration of the water from the stack of dishes you had just polished off. You attempted to let the stress of your day roll off your shoulders to mix into that same water. Call it a baptism, but the solace you got standing before the sink, pouring your emotions into the dark, louring water was comparable to nothing. The radio buzzed with slight static as the station attempted to break through the heavy interference.
That was until three long pulses echoed over the station, making your skin crawl as if an unseen force were intruding on your alone time. You stood up straighter, water dripping down your arms and splashing on the linoleum floor beneath you as you listened to the grizzled news broadcaster read from an obviously unedited announcement. The world outside of your apartment seemed to still, silence echoing through the streets where shrilling sirens lived only moments before.
“Breaking news… NASA has just verified that the mystery asteroid is, in fact, in danger of crashing into the Earth… As of this moment-” His voice cut out, your radio buzzing into static. In a panicked effort, you vaulted across your kitchen, slipping on the dishwater in the process as you tumbled to the ground. Before the pain could set in, you climbed to your feet, smacking your hand atop of the radio. It finally crackled back to life as you twisted at the dials feverishly. “... three days. To repeat, there is a countdown on the NASA website… take shelter when the time nears.”
Your ears rang alongside the three pulses to indicate the message was over. You were in denial, figuring there was no way this asteroid was actually going to obliterate the Earth. Surely, it was a joke. Everyone had been making memes of the space rock since it was picked up on NASA’s radar a month prior. Surely, this was just a test.
You waited for the city to come back to life, but everything remained still. After everything you’d all been through in the last year, an asteroid was going to be the end.
A sharp and urgent knock hammered against your door, making you jump a few feet in the air. Before you could move to see who it was, the person was already through the threshold. You peered around the corner of the kitchen and down the hall, your gaze meeting a pair of dark green irises. Clay’s towering figure stalked toward you, his eyes brimming with tears and panic. He pulled you into his embrace rather hurriedly, as if he’d been itching to wrap around you before he broke down.
The hint of cologne clouding the air around the two of you suggested that he was on his way out. As your hands followed their muscle memory to grip onto his clothes, he dug his face into the crook of your neck. It was becoming clear that even if you weren’t responding to your best friend’s need, he was going to take it from you.
He pulled away from you slightly. Your mind had gone completely silent as he looked at you, his attention struggling to focus on one part of your face. Your body felt numb and your tongue had gone dry. His gaze traveled towards the ground and he stepped back slightly, worry spreading across his features as he clamped his hand around your forearm.
“Why are you bleeding? What happened?” His voice cracked slightly as he dug into the drawer beside you to find a towel. You furrowed your brows before finally catching sight of the blood seeping from your arm and between his fingers. His hand was large enough that it nearly served as its own bandage.
He tugged you behind him towards your bathroom. “I fell…” You mumbled, your mind now racing with questions. Why couldn’t you feel the cut? Or his hands? He pushed you upwards to sit on the bathroom counter, his crimson hands shaking slightly as he rinsed them off. Your fingers tightened around the towel holding your wound together. As he focused on the task before him, he seemed to calm down ever so slightly. He rolled his head on his shoulders and took a deep breath to steady himself as fished through your First Aid kit.
“I was on my way to Nick’s and I heard the news. I’m…” He brought his arm up slightly to brush away a few tears against his shoulder. He pulled open a package with his teeth. You watched him carefully as he worked to clean you up. His blond locks hung over his eyes, curling around his ears and twisting about as he focused and you could almost hear his mother’s voice telling him he needed a haircut.
Your chest ached. “Clay, I think I’m having some kind of a breakdown,” you mumbled, your own eyes prickling with tears as he looked up at you quickly. Usually, you were the one that kept it together. It had been like that since the two of you were teenagers. Despite the fact that Clay’s tall, muscular stature gave off the appearance of an intimidating being. In actuality he always let his emotions get the best of him, leaving you in charge of being the rational one.
But as he patched up your arm and struggled not to fall apart, the reality was settling in to weigh heavily on your shoulders.
He began to talk softly to you---much like you usually did for him---making sure his touches were delicate and slow. While his hands were coarse from years of football and building decks with his dad in the summers when the two of you were younger, they were so tender when dealing with you. He cradled you as if you would break at the slightest flex of his finger.
“Why didn’t you just go to Nick’s?” You asked him once he’d finished bandaging your arm and had begun rewashing his hands. The scarlet water in the sink looked almost surreal after you’d been staring so long at the caliginous dishwater. He rested his hands on the edge of the sink, his eyes flashing up to look at himself in the mirror before chewing on the inside of his cheek.
Your hand traveled up his arm, his skin warm beneath your touch as you tugged on his bicep to bring him closer to you. He moved to wrap you in his embrace once again, his breath melding into your hair as his fingers closed around the fabric of your shirt. “I’d rather spend the end of the world with you,” he barely whispered, pressing a kiss to your shoulder softly.
You pulled away from him gently, his forehead moving to rest against your own. One of his hands moved to brush into your hair, his fingers finding purchase against your neck. The familiar smell of smoky vanilla and sage seeped into your mind at his closeness. You thought about your first kiss shared in “the name of science,” after you turned fourteen. Clay had been so awkward in his body at that time; his hair shaggy, stretch marks along his knees from his growth spurt, and a growing realization that you were in fact, a member of the opposite sex.
The Clay before you, even in his state of anguish and anxiety, stood with a cockiness that that Clay couldn’t have even dreamt of. His thumb glossed over your jaw, his eyes cast down as if his mind was wreaking havoc on his movements. Cautiously, you leaned towards him, sealing the space between the two of you as your lips pressed against his. The air of catastrophe seemed to dissipate around you as he pulled you tighter against him. The taste of mint and a faint whisper of fruit from the gum he always chewed blended against your tongue. Your arms moved to wrap around his waist, wanting him pressed to you as close as he could be.
He wrapped his hands around your thighs, pulling you up and into his arms as he made his way to your bedroom. As your back hit the mattress, Clay’s lips were back on yours, your fingers slipping beneath the hem of his shirt to tug the fabric over his head. You sighed as he hesitated before nipping at the skin of your collarbones, his tongue ghosting against any mark that formed on your skin from his teeth. You drove your hands into his hair, your fingers locking around the slight curls forming. He pushed your shirt off and you wiggled out of your sweatpants.
His hips dug into yours, the friction bringing a lazy smile to your face as you bit your lip. You tugged on his hair, making him moan into your ear to mix with his motions. “I want you, Clay,” you stated, your voice falling from your lips in a slightly deeper tone, your breathing uneven with passion. He moved to look into your eyes, pausing for a moment before his hand slid between your waistband and your hip to remove your underpants. It was clear that even as the timer clicked away the minutes the two of you had together, you wanted to savor him. If the world ended now as the two of you were in each other’s embrace, you would be fulfilled.
He smirked slightly at your words, his lips finding your neck once again. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to hear that,” he moaned, pressing a kiss behind your ear. He slunk down to press his lips against your stomach, moving slowly up your body to bury his face in your hair, grinding his hips against yours. You fought not to roll your eyes as you hooked your fingers through his belt loops, pulling his pants off. He pressed his lips against yours, humming into the kiss as you wrapped your leg around one of his. You slipped your tongue into his mouth, grinding against him.
As Clay pushed himself into you, your whole body relaxed as if he were made for you. He dug his face into the crook of your neck, letting you adjust to him. You hummed slightly, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as he began to move. He gripped the edge of the mattress beside your head as he leaned his weight on his forearm, the angle bringing your thigh to rest against his side. You wrapped your arm around his shoulder, bringing your hips up to move with his. “You’re so beautiful…” he mumbled, his lips brushing against your collarbones again as his thrusts into you became deeper.
You began to feel every inch of him in you as his hips ground against yours. Clay’s lips left yours to press against your jaw and your ear, one of his hands interlocking with yours, binding the two of you further together in the act. It was his carefulness of your forearm that sent a shock wave through your body as you were bitterly reminded that instead of a lifetime of cherishing moments like this, the two of you were cursed into his disaster arc.
His hand pressed into the mattress, fingers curling around the sheets as you pulled him down to you again, his lips melding to yours. You groaned, finding your sweet spot as he did so, making him pick up his pace. His other hand pressed against the side of your neck, bringing your skin closer to his lips as he pressed open mouth kisses to the landscape of your neck, thrusting into you and making the tension in your body tighten with pleasure. Your arms moved to wrap around Clay’s torso, pressing your lips against his shoulder as he moved. Your toes curled as you finally reached your orgasm, calling out his name and feeling him release as well, riding out your pleasure.
As you laid beside him, he played with your fingers, the quietness between the two of you nearly comforting. There was almost the question of “what now” hanging in the air.
A knock came at your door once again, your heart dropping slightly at who the person could be. You shot a look to Clay before pulling on one of the discarded shirts and your shorts from earlier. Your apartment was cold after being in bed with Clay, the air nipping at your skin and sending a shiver down your skin. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed the billboard beside your window had the countdown displayed in heavy red numbers. You swallowed your uneasiness and opened your door.
Nick stood before you, his eyebrows slightly perked at---what you could only assume---your unkempt appearance. He wet his lips briefly. “Dream’s here right?” He asked, peering over your head a bit. You silently opened your door completely, letting him inside. Clay came out of your bedroom, tugging a hoodie over his head that he had previously shoved in one of your drawers. As Nick eyed him, it seemed like he’d forgotten whatever serious matter he needed Clay for. Instead of the skittish expression, Nick’s face twisted into a knowingly smug quip.
Clay ran his fingers through his hair, moving down the hallway and into your kitchen. “What’s up?” He queried Nick. You followed the two of them as Nick began to ramble about the end of the world.
Your chest tightened at his words as you took a seat at your kitchen counter. Clay uncapped a beer, leaning on the marble across from you. “There’s a bunker nearby. It belongs to some random old guy but I know some people who can get us a spot,” Nick muttered almost as if he were worried your neighbors would hear and sabotage his plans. He looked between the two of you quickly. “I think it’s worth a shot.”
You watched Clay closely as he thought, his expression nearly blank due to his somberness. You could practically hear the clock ticking away outside as the red light began to seep into your apartment. Clay chewed the inside of his cheek. “What do you think?” He asked, suddenly breaking the deafening silence and turning to you. “I wanna go where you go.” He looked almost like a child as he said this, but you were grateful he wanted to be with you in the end.
You tore your eyes from him, focusing on the ring forming in your sink from the dishwater that you hadn’t had the opportunity to drain. Your mind raced with the possibility that Nick was offering. “What’s the worst that can happen? We’re dying anyway, right?” You responded wearily.
And that’s how you found yourself packed into an underground shelter, Clay’s body pressed against yours as nameless people crowded the dense area. Nick huddled against the two of you, the asteroid’s timer serving as a foreboding heartbeat as it reminded you all that these were the last moments of your life. Clay’s arm tightened around your shoulders as you buried your face in the softness of his sweatshirt. Your legs were going numb from sitting on the ground with your knees folded to your chest, but you didn’t dare move from his grasp. Nick’s side dug into your own as he attempted to shrug away from the hysterical woman beside him whispering to herself.
Only the mumbling of prayers and lamenting sobs broke up the lulling music playing over a small Ham radio resting on a bookshelf in the corner. The tune reminded you of an eerie scene in a movie from the ‘60s. As the song faded, a newscaster began to discuss the timer, wishing that everyone was with loved ones and had spent the last of their money.
And then the final ten seconds came. Your fingers threaded with Clay’s as he pressed a lasting kiss to your forehead.
“... Nine. Eight…”
Nick leaned into you. The two of you had never really been close, but on your journey to the bunker, he'd become a companion to you just as much as he was Clay's.
“... Seven. Six…”
You let your mind travel to your past, prom in particular. When Clay shut the skirt of your dress in his passenger door by accident. You were so mad at him for finding humor in the situation.
“... Five. Four…”
You thought about the week prior when you were considering skipping a lecture because you were tired. What you wouldn’t give to go back to the simplicity of problems like that.
“... Three. Two…”
You hugged Clay tighter to you, hoping that if you both got blasted into whatever kind of eternity was waiting, you’d land at the same time.
“... One.”
Everyone seemed to hold their breath, even the newscaster. The silence was painful as you all waited.
Clay and Nick moved quickly, looking around the room. You furrowed your brows at them, your grip tightening around the front of Clay’s sweater. “Do you hear that?” Clay stated, his voice coming out rushed. Nick nodded, watching as the rest of the men in the bunker began to talk amongst themselves. You couldn’t hear anything, worry settling.
“What?” You asked, barely above a whisper.
Clay pushed himself to sit up away from the wall, dragging you up with him. “How can you not hear that?” He urged mildly. Fear began to pick at your nerves as you noticed the same reactions filling the shelter. Nick stood up, following some of the other guys who heard whatever they were talking about. Clay slipped from your grasp. “I’ll be right back,” he muttered and you grabbed his hand. His eyes flashed a different color as he looked at you.
A few of the women followed the group, attempting to get their companion’s attention before one of them opened the shelter door.
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chanfictions · 3 years
Text
Mine - Part 2
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7
Kisame x Reader
2.5k
Stalking, yandere behavior, use of drugs.
As your vision began to fade beneath a veil of black spots and static, your panicking brain struggled to pour over every event and detail leading up to this moment. The door hinges stopped squeaking. Some of your belongings seemed to be mysteriously disappearing. And now, your tea. Something was wrong with your tea.
A series of unintelligible curses fell from your lips as you dug through your bag in a flustered flurry. "Where the hell are they?"
The gruff, dingy face of your boss lifted for a moment from behind the sandwich that was half-crammed into his mouth. "The hell're you mumbling about?"
With an exasperated sigh, you sat back in your chair, stomach protesting loudly at your continued delay in feeding it as you closed your eyes and groaned at the ceiling. "I must have dropped them on the way here."
The only reply offered to you was a terse grunt and the muffled sounds of chewing stuffed behind an almost interested raise of eyebrows.
"My keys," you grumbled, leaning forward and dropping your head against the soot-covered table. "That was my only set. And I forgot my lunch. I feel like I'm losing my damn mind this week."
"Get yer shit together, kid. Huge order just came in from that shinobi village we been talking to. I need your head in the forge, not in the fridge." Ryuji was never one to mince words, so his abrasive response didn't come as much of a surprise. Without so much as a glance at you, he resumed gnawing his way through his sandwich. "Go get some damn food before you space out and set yourself on fire again."
He was right to lecture you. A weaponsmith's workshop was no place to be when your head wasn't screwed on straight, as evidenced by the thick, dirty bandage wrapping your forearm. Yesterday, you had been so distracted that you stumbled into your own red-hot work in progress and seared an alarming amount of flesh on your arm. Ryuji yanking you away from the forge by the collar of your shirt and snatching the rod you were holding out of your hand was the only thing that stopped you from setting yourself on fire as you recoiled in pain toward the yawning dragon's mouth. That earned you a crack to the back of the head and an hour-long, earsplitting lecture about what an amateur mistake that was while he manhandled your singed flesh into its current wrapping. The expletive-laced lecturing followed you all the way home, as Ryuji insisted on walking you back after you proceeded to be more accident prone around the shop than usual after nearly setting yourself alight. While you were a klutz, you were an excellent apprentice, and he snidely growled that it would have been too big of a pain in the ass to train a new one if you got lost on the way back to your own goddamn house because your head was in the clouds.
"I'll be back in a few." With another heavy sigh, you hauled yourself from your chair, slinging your excessively light bag over your shoulder before heading out onto the bustling street just outside of your shop. Your eyes scanned the few stalls lining the cobblestone as your stomach dictated loudly what it wanted. The scent of ramen from one of your favorite shops wafted into your nostrils and drew you in like fishing line before you even realized what you were doing.
"Hey, hun! Long time no see," the kind old woman behind the counter winked a crinkled eye at you. "The usual?"
"Yes, please," you breathed a sigh of relief over the escalating protests of your stomach. "Actually, make it a double today."
As though she anticipated your arrival, the old lady had most of your order ready rather quickly. "Is that Ryuji working you to death?" She hummed while dishing up your food. "You look exhausted."
"It's been a weird week," you confessed, settling into your seat while resting your chin on your hand.
"Shall I give him a talking to for you?" She teased, playfully smacking the large ladle in her hand against her palm after setting a bowl of noodley delight in front of you.
You readied a pair of chopsticks, digging in as you laughed around the mouthful of ramen that you had already partially inhaled, nearly choking on it as you swallowed. "No, it's okay. He hasn't been the problem this week."
"Well, you just tell him anyway that Granny sees everything," she smirked, turning her back to stir pots as you dug into your meal. "What's on your mind, hm?" She inquired without turning around.
Twirling your chopsticks around in your bowl absentmindedly, you chewed the inside of your cheek. "Ever felt like there were little gremlins following you around and moving things two inches to the left just to mess with you?"
She snorted a bit of a laugh. "That's oddly specific."
"That's been my week," you mused while chewing half of a hard boiled egg. "Everything is two inches to the left. Lost my keys, forgot my lunch. Even my front door is in on it."
"Your front door?" She turned with a raised brow.
"Yeah. Out of the blue, that horrible creaking noise it always made just went away. I had been meaning to oil the hinges, but I never got around to actually doing it. A few days ago, it just… stopped," you explained around another mouthful of noodles.
"Oh, that's just the weather around here, dear. The temperature swings and makes wood swell and shrink. My old house is like that too," she waved her hand dismissively, going back to minding her broths.
You picked up your bowl and drank the remaining liquid before setting it down again, now having finally quieted your raging stomach. As you dug through your bag to pay for your meal, a sinking wave of anxiety crept through you. "No… no, no, no -- damnit! Where is it?" You whispered desperately as you rifled frantically, searching for your wallet.
Granny set her spoon down across the top of an open pot, turning to you with a concerned expression as she wiped her hands on her apron. "Gremlins?"
"I'm so sorry," you stammered, digging with new vigor for change or anything to pay for your food. "I thought I put it in here this morning--"
"Don't worry, dear. You can pay for it next time," she smiled warmly, understanding that this really just wasn't your week. "You always come back. Besides, I know where you work," she teased with another wink.
You bowed graciously. "Thank you so much. I am so sorry."
She chuckled, making a little shooing motion with her hand. "That's enough of that. Go back to work before that old grouch gives you a hard time for taking too long of a lunch."
With another quick, apologetic bow, you crammed your belongings into your bag and scurried back to the shop. Your arrival was met with immediate orders and unrelenting demands being barked at you by your master, who was now miffed that things were behind schedule thanks to you. Flustered, you pulled on your heavy leather gloves and went to work, hammering out basic shapes for kunai that Ryuji would later finish. The work was exhausting, both physically and mentally, as your head still wasn't totally in the game. You found yourself second guessing every move you made, every hammer strike, every reheat of the metal set out on your anvil. You just couldn't shake the feeling that some other chaos was about to descend upon your head to top off the shitshow that had been your week.
"What the fuck is this supposed to be, eh?" Ryuji barked loudly in your face, interrupting your thoughts and snatching your hammer from you mid strike. He glowered at you, thrusting a slightly malformed kunai into your field of vision.
You stammered unintelligibly, staring at the scrapped knife you thought you threw in the 'redo' pile. "I--"
"Get the hell out of my sight. Go home. Come back when you can figure out how to forge a simple goddamn kunai again," he snarled, throwing the blade into the ground at your feet before turning his back on you and returning to his own waiting project.
Swallowing back the argumentative lump growing in your throat, you yanked your gloves off and dropped them on top of your anvil before trudging back into the shop to grab your things, narrowly missing falling on your face as you once again caught your boot on the oft-forgotten step. The weight of being ejected from the workshop dragged your morale into the dirt. With a defeated sigh and a glance over your shoulder toward the sounds of cursing and steel striking steel, you snagged your bag from its spot behind the counter and headed out, swinging the front door shut behind you with a bit more force than necessary. "One goddamn knife," you growled through your teeth, hardly paying attention to the road on which you were walking. "I mess up one goddamn knife, and he kicks me out." Your eyes shifted skyward to the drifting clouds that shadowed the area with impending rain. "Got anything else you wanna throw at me?" You pointed the sarcastic question at the sky before continuing on your way, scanning the side of the cobbled bricks for your lost set of keys as you went, but today afforded you no such luck.
Once home, you were greeted by a lock that needed picking and rain that was quickly threatening to become a storm. You hollered at nothing, pounding your fist against your own door in frustration as you struggled to outsmart your godforsaken lock. For half a second, you considered just smashing the thing and repairing it later. Luckily, the mechanism finally popped under the pressure of your furious jiggling and allowed you to swing the now eerily silent door open.
You all but launched your boots off your feet into the lower kitchen cabinets as all of the stress and frustration quickly began catching up to you. Choking back the still growing lump in your throat, you leaned over your sink, feverishly scrubbing away the grime left clinging to your hands. Your reflection stared back at you from the window behind your faucets, now showing you the ugly, contorted mess you had made of your face to hold back the wellspring of emotion churning in your chest. Putting your fist through it was a tempting thought until you remembered that you would be the one who had to fix it if you did.
With less care than you usually took with your things, you swung your tea kettle from the stove into the sink, filling it with water and setting it to boil while you stomped your way through the house to remove all traces of the day you had. Clean clothes, clean hair, clean face, clean bandages, clean you. You felt that if you just washed all of the figurative grime away, you might just be able to start over and have a better day tomorrow.
The shrill whistle of the kettle in the kitchen snapped you out of your cycle of cynicism, sending you back to finish your nightly, albeit early, ritual cup of tea. You slid the ceramic mug across the counter that was prepared with a bag already in it, as you had set it out early in the morning like always, and poured in the piping hot water. The lovely scent of mint filled the air as it rose on the back of the steam swirling upward, eliciting a soft hum from you as you set the kettle down. Cradling your precious distraction, you blew at the surface while shuffling your feet across the floor to the kitchen table while you waited for it to be strong enough to drink.
When the color finally seemed right, you took a sip, sighing as you leaned back into your chair. The few swigs that followed had you twisting your mouth and staring at the cup questioningly, wondering if you had mistakenly used the wrong tea or if something was wrong with your water. "Figures," you mumbled. The taste seemed off. Too sweet, almost. As you rose to your feet to go check the box, a wave of dizziness hit you like a brick wall, leaving you grasping at the edge of the table to try to stabilize yourself. A prickling nausea crept up your spine as you stumbled toward the sink, thinking you were going to vomit, knocking things off the counter as you fumbled desperately to maintain your balance.
"Take it easy," a familiar voice rasped from behind you and a massive arm caught you around your middle to keep you upright.
The door. You never heard him come in, unless he was here already. "Kisame? Why're you… in… my house…" Your tongue started turning to mush in your mouth as you tripped over yourself, trying to tear away from the monstrous vice. The room was spinning. You could hardly tell which way was up, and it showed by your confused, uncoordinated movements. "You know… where I live?"
Kisame didn't answer any of your questions and instead contained your frightened, jerky attempts at escape, preventing you from running into anything else or getting away from him by keeping that heavy arm locked around you in a constrictive shell, pulling you toward the solid chest you stumbled into a week ago with your own arms folded up and trapped against your body. "Calm down. I've got you."
As your vision began to fade beneath a veil of black spots and static, your panicking brain struggled to pour over every event and detail leading up to this moment. The door hinges stopped squeaking. Your lock turned better than it ever had since you moved in, until you lost your keys at least. Some of your belongings seemed to be mysteriously disappearing. And the tea. Something was wrong with your tea. "K'sme, wha'd… you do t'me?" Words failed to form correctly, as you could no longer fully control your mouth, and your knees buckled beneath you.
The crushing weight of reality began to descend upon you as the towering monster of a man whose arms were caging you in ignored your line of confused questioning and just hushed you softly as he eased your collapsing body to the floor, cradling the back of your head like you were made of glass. That face. Those intense, predatory eyes that met yours once a month in your shop were leering down at you as you felt yourself sinking into the inky deep. The hand that so easily caught your burdensome box of kunai caressed your clammy cheek through the tingling numbness building under your skin. The soft, raspy voice of what you once thought was just a gentle giant crooned things to you that you could no longer understand and began growing more distant as the lights in your head slowly flickered out.
It was him. All of the mishaps and strangeness happening to you in the past week had all been caused by him.
Brushing a bit of hair away from your face, Kisame just looked down at you for a moment before carefully wrapping you in his cloak and gathering your unconscious body off of your kitchen floor. "You're coming with me."
--------
Tagged: @mytanuki-kun
117 notes · View notes
forever-rogue · 4 years
Text
Afterglow - Part 10
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A/N: Hello! It is finally time for some more Frankie! I hope you all enjoy! As always, feedback and comments are welcome, and if you’d like to be tagged, let me know. xx 💕
Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 4k
Warnings: drug and alcohol mentions;
AFTERGLOW MASTERLIST
FRANKIE MASTERLIST
MASTERLIST
»»————- ♡ ————-««
You’d cried yourself to sleep that night, telling yourself that it was okay to wallow and be sad for now - one night. Frankie had slipped through your fingers like sand once before and you weren’t going to let him go again; at least not that easily. You were going to fight for him, to make sure that whatever was going on with him wouldn’t take over. Whether or not he was mad, or he wanted nothing to do with you anymore, it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was keeping him safe and sound.
You woke up the next morning with a fierce determination; quickly cleaning up the mess from the previous night and showering and dressing. After getting breakfast for Daisy, you promised her that you’d be back soon and made the short trek over to Frankie’s house. When you got there, you noticed that his truck was gone, and the house was locked up. Huffing silently to yourself, you went around to the back and sure enough the back door was unlocked. Whether it was intentional or not, you were glad it was open. 
Slipping inside, you quickly reacquainted yourself with the space, looking around the house that he had made his home. When you stepped into the kitchen, you noticed it was spotless, everything was pristine, and there was almost no hint that anyone lived there. A small sound escaped your lips as you went around and found the rest of the house to be in the same condition. Strange, you thought to yourself, he must have gone a cleaning spree.
You hesitated when you reached his bedroom, but pushed the door open and stepped in any way. It felt so odd to be there, his personal little sanctuary, but it still felt warm and comforting. His bed was made and everything was organized including his dresser and closet and the connecting bathroom. Pausing when you passed by the dresser, you picked up the picture frame, an instant smile stretching across your features when you noticed that it was a photo of you. This one you’d never seen before; it was something he’d kept this whole time and you’d never known. It was you - all curled up in a big blanket with only your head poking out from under the covers and a sleepy smile on your face, your eyes closed tightly. This whole time...this whole damn time. 
Fishing your phone out of your pocket, you quickly pulled up Frankie’s contact and dialed his number, praying he would answer. But it rang and rang and rang, painstakingly so, before going to voicemail. With a sigh, you ended the call before redialing and listening to the same thing; but this time you left a quick message for him to call you as soon as he got time. Deciding that you didn’t care about how this all looked, you texted him as well. 
All you could now was wait - and hope he’d call you back. There was no way he’d just cut you of his life like that again and leave, right? Right? Not again; you weren’t sure if you could handle losing Frankie Morales all over again. 
»»————- ♡ ————-««
But you didn’t hear back from him that day, or the next day...or the next, despite your efforts. And you were worried sick. It was starting to consume your every thought and you were wondering what to do. He hadn’t come home either, and just hoped that everything was alright.
By the fifth day, you decided enough was enough. You grabbed your purse, left Daisy at your neighbor’s house and came to the conclusion that if you wanted answers you were going to have to work for them. Frankie had told you about his job, and luckily for your sharp memory, you’d memorized where he worked and went off to see if you were able to find out if he had been at work at all. 
The shop was small, but seemed friendly enough, although you were sure that you looked about as out of place as they come. 
"Hello?" you called out quietly as you listened to the soft humming of a radio in the distance and the quiet news playing on the aging television set. Walking up to the counter, you sighed softly, as you rang the bell after checking to make sure no one was around, "hello?"
You heard a few shuffling sounds accompanied by footsteps as someone came to the front. After a few moments a man, a handsome one that appeared to be about your age, popped in, wiping his hands on an old rag. A look of confusion crossed his features before he offered up a small smile, "sorry about that - a little shorthanded right now. What can I do for you?"
"Umm, hi," you swallowed the lump in your throat at the mention of short handed, "I-I'm kind of here on a personal thing. Do...does Francisco - Frankie Morales work here?"
"Frankie?" he asked as you nodded, "Fish?"
"I-I don't know who that is," you frowned at the odd choice of name, "I just know Frankie. I...I haven't seen him in a few days and wanted to see if you had or if he'd come to work. Maybe I...maybe I have the wrong shop...or something, I don’t know.”
You offered up an apologetic smile before turning to leave, willing yourself not to cry. But before you reached the door, you heard it and it caused you to stop dead in your tracks, "Bee? Are you...Bee?"
"I'm sorry?" you asked as you turned around and cocked your head to the side, regarding him curiously. His smile grew as he realized exactly who you were, "no- no one's called me besides Frankie…"
"You are," he dropped the rag and stepped around the counter, coming towards you before wrapping you up in a hug, "you're Bee! Frankie - we call him Fish, Catfish! He's told us all about you over the years. Holy shit - you’re actually a real person. Here and in the flesh!”
"Oh," you were taken aback for a moment before you hugged him back, a small sigh escaping your lips as you realized this was a human connection to your love. He knew Frankie - the present Frankie, the Frankie that has been taken away from you for so long. You squeezed your eyes shut as you held him tightly. You wondered if this was as cathartic for him as it was for you. 
"You look just like he always said," he pulled back and studied you, "man, he's been in love with you for so long. He said he'd finally found you again."
"Yeah," you nodded lightly as you wiped away the tears that had rolled down your cheeks. This man could tell you so much about Frankie - you hoped you lived up to whatever tails Frankie had them, "its a long story….but we're neighbors now. And we had a fight a few nights ago and he's been gone and not answering my calls or texts and I'm worried…"
"You know about…" he trailed off as you nodded, feeling a heaviness settle over your heart. You made a small sound as he nodded before giving your shoulder a small squeeze, "he's been having a rough go of things."
"The first two times I saw him since I've moved in next to him he was...high. Not in good shape at all," you confessed, almost relieved that you were able to tell someone else, "I didn't know how big of a problem it was…I tried talking to him about it and we ended up fighting and he left and I haven't seen him since. I’ve been worried sick about him since he left, but I didn’t know where to begin to look so…”
“I’m glad you found me - I’m Santiago - Santi - by the way,” Santi confirmed softly as you nodded, trying to keep the tears from falling, “Frankie’s a good guy, he really is. But he’s struggling...again. I thought things were better too, but it’s obvious that he needs more help. I don’t know what it was that finally got him there, but I’m glad it did...although I have a feeling it’s you.”
“I don’t care what it is,” you admitted softly, “as long as he gets the help and support he needs. I would do anything for him.”
“You really are his girl, huh?” the man got a sappy little grin on his face as you felt a flush rise up but nodded nonetheless. 
“I’ve loved him since we were kids...it never changed,” you confessed, “even if he doesn’t want me or love me anymore, I just want him to be happy and healthy.”
“He loves you,” Santi laughed, a loud boisterous thing, “trust me.”
“Do you know where he is? Can you take me to him?” you clutched onto his arm and gave him an almost desperate look, ready to beg him if you needed, “please? I need to know everything.”
“Of course,” he promised as he took your hands in his and squeezed it tightly, “come on. Let me close up shop and we can go.”
»»————- ♡ ————-««
Frankie sighed as he stared out the window, looking at the rolling hills in the distance. It was dark and gray out, signaling an impending storm, something he normally loved and yet he felt...nothing. Not depressed or empty, but not filled with life either. Just...there. He knew it was most likely the symptoms of withdrawal and finally getting clean - for good - but it was still hard. He missed you - hoped you weren’t okay or panicking too much. Hell, maybe you’d forgotten about him already. Maybe it would have been better if you did…
Either way; it was seeing you again that had sparked his zest for life. All these years and it was still you. But as soon as you’d made your reappearance, it felt like everything made sense again. Like things were just...right. And it had made him question his choices; he wanted to be better, to be the best, for not just himself, but also for you. And even if it was too late to be able to love you again, he wanted to do this for myself - he had to.
“Mr. Morales?” the nurse’s voice caught his ear and he turned slightly to look at her, offering her a small smile, “you have some visitors, if you’d like.”
Visitors? How strange...nobody knew he was here besides Santi, Will, and Benny, and he’d been in somewhat regular contact with him. Maybe it was just a surprise visit from one of them. 
“They can come in,” he nodded, reaching for the glass on the window sill to help soothe his parched throat. He hadn’t done much talking today, preferring some solitude instead. 
“Hi Frankie,” at the sound of your voice, he turned around so fast he almost gave himself whiplash. Hovering in the doorway, you gave him a nervous smile, unsure of how to gauge his surprised reaction. 
“Hey Fish,” Santi popped up behind you, slowly ushering you into the room as Frankie rose to his full height. 
“H-hi,” he stammered, casting a quick glance at Santi before focusing his attention on you. He wasn’t sure if he should be scared of your reaction or if he should run over and swallow you whole in his arms, “you’re both here.”
“Of course man,” Santi laughed lightly, “we’re family - always. Now, you talk to your girl and I’m going to find some coffee.”
He left without another word, leaving the two of you to awkwardly stare at each other. When he didn’t say anything, you loosened up and noticed the glossiness of his eyes. Before you could stop yourself, you rushed over to him and wrapped him up in the tightest hug possible, “Francisco, my love. I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“Sweet Bee,” he buried his face into the side of your head and just let you hold him, without a word, without a care - reckless abandon. Stroking his back in soothing circles, you let him get all his tears out, only whispering soft reassurances into his ear, “I’m sorry for what happened...for fighting with you.”
“No, no, no,” you pulled back and pulled his face into your hands, giving him a soft smile before wiping away the stray that had cascaded down his cheeks, “please don’t apologize. You have nothing to apologize for. All I care about is you. That you’re okay and safe.”
“I should have told you...”
“Maybe,” you agreed with a small laugh, trying to get him to calm down, “but it’s okay. I would have done anything to find you. Luckily I had enough sense to go to your work and find Santi.”
“He’s...a good man,” he smiled, “we've been through so much...he’s more like my brother.”
“I know,” you could easily tell that there was a strong bond between the two men, “he’s been great...but umm...Frankie - did you tell all your friends about me?”
“Yeah,” a smile - a real, genuine smile - appeared on his face as his singular dimple made its appearance, “I did. Probably from the day I met them...”
“Francisco,” you beamed at him, “all this time...”
“Always,” he answered your unspoken question, “I love you...I’m sorry if you don’t want to hear that right now, or ever, but it’s true and I wanted you to know.”
“I love you,” you repeated softly, “nothing’s ever going to change that. Not even...this. You - we - are going to get through this, Francisco. I promise you.”
“You’re....you’re staying?” he was incredulous as he pulled back and looked at you with a slightly surprised expression, “I can’t expect...I wouldn’t ask that of you.”
“You’re not asking,” you reassured with a gentle to his freshly shaven cheek, “I’m telling you. I love you, Francisco Morales. I lost you once and I’m not going to do it again. I’m with you - always.”
“What did I do to deserve this?” he whispered as he kissed the palm of your hand?
“You took care of me the day we met - when I ran into you and fell to the ground,” you reminded him of the fateful afternoon when the two of you had met almost twenty years ago. And to believe back then you had almost been reluctant to meet him all because your companionship was thrust upon the two of you. Looking back, you couldn’t have been more thankful, “I scraped up my palm and you cleaned it up and made sure it all healed. But look…”
You held up your and slowly displayed your right palm, letting him look over it closely. In the heart of your palm a small, almost invisible scar still lingered. If someone hadn’t been paying attention they could have easily missed it - but to you and Frankie it was loud and clear. 
“Still there,” he murmured as he traced over it and you nodded, trying to hold back all of your tears now, “apparently I didn’t do the best job…”
“You did,” you promised softly, “it could have been so much worse. This way, I’ll always have a memory of when we met - how we met.”
“I…" Frankie's lip trembled with effort as he did his best not to cry; he hadn't expected to feel this overwhelmed by such a simple thing, "I've missed you so much - I don't know how we found each other again, but I'm so glad we did."
"Me too," tracing over his lip with your thumb before leaning in to press a kiss to them, "having you back already kept me from making the biggest mistake of my life. I would have been married to that asshole by now."
"Bee…" he couldn't help but laugh as your passionate little ramble before pulling you back into his arms. His hold, his touch, was perfect - he was home, "I don't know what I'd do without you. I...I love you so much."
"I know, bub," you ruffled through his dark hair affectionately, "I love you too. I wouldn't be here if I didn't. Do you...do you want to talk about it? Just...us. You know I'm not going to judge, my love. I'm not here for that."
»»————- ♡ ————-««
Frankie let out a large sigh as he sat down on the couch in his room with you sliding in next to him. Grabbing his large hand, you laced your fingers together as you just let him go on. You weren’t going to interrupt him or anything - this was his time and his story to tell and you were there without judgment. 
“Where do I begin…” he mused as you offered up a small shrug. 
“Wherever you want, Frankie,” you promised him, “I’m here listening, either way.”
“Okay,” inhaling deeply, he held his breath before letting out a long sigh, “it first started after I’d been in the military for a few years...almost fifteen years, actually. So I guess fairly recently. It wasn’t always a problem like it ended up becoming. At first it wasn’t a big deal. Something to take a little edge of after a mission, or if it all became too much or too little it was always there to help. It never seemed like a big deal at the time, it wasn’t something that I did all the time, but then it became more and more - it was never enough, I was always looking forward to that next hit or that next time. Eventually, slowly and over time it became all consuming and I couldn’t control it. That’s when…”
He paused for a moment, collecting himself and you realized just how hard it must have been for him to talk about all of this. Squeezing his hand as a sign of reassurance, silently letting him know that it was okay. It was okay for him to be so open and vulnerable to you, okay for him to be authentic self, okay for him to be who he was. Frankie gently stroked the back of your hand as he offered you a small nod. 
“I...I ended up getting busted while helping with a transport,” he confessed after some moments of tense silence, “they...they didn’t know that I used on top of it all, but I got my pilot’s license suspended because of the bust. After that it was a wake up call - that I had a problem and needed to get my shit together. I was clean after that for a while...I was able to kind of kick it myself but there was always...the urges. Slowly it would happen again from time to time but never like it was used to be; that’s what I’d convinced myself because I could control myself better and it wasn’t on my mind 24/7.”
“You already did so well,” you whispered softly, “you’ve done this much, you’ll be able to get through anything. If I may ask...and stop me if you want - when did it get bad again?”
“After...funny story actually,” he laughed but it was a small, bitter thing, “a little bit after we stumbled into each other. I was so lost to the idea that you were gone forever that when Santi came to me and Benny and Will with a mission I just went. And it went fucking terrible. When we got back...what better way to cope than to turn back to what gave me some relief in the first place? So I did....and well...the rest you already know.”
“My love…” you trailed off, unsure of what to say next. You didn’t want to push him away by making it seem like you were trying to analyze him or pity him. You just wanted him to know that you loved him no matter what, and you would be there for him, “I’m sorry you had to go through all of that. No one deserves that - I can’t say that I understand exactly how you feel or anything. But I want to try to understand and I want to help you however I can. All you need to do is to tell me how I can do that, okay?”
“Thank you…” he hung his head as he nodded, letting out a few shaky breaths. Reaching over, you pulled him towards you and wrapped him back up in your arms, peppering the side of his head in gentle kisses. His strong arms wrapped around your waist and he held onto you like he was afraid you might vanish into thin air, “I know this can’t be what you expected when we were young or even a few months ago…”
“I don’t care,” you promised, rocking himself, “I told you - none of it matters. The only thing that matters to me is you.” 
“Honey Bee,” he buried his face into your neck and you could feel his tears soaking into the fabric of your shirt, “I-I’m...scared. I’m scared I’m not never going to get better and never give you the Frankie you deserve.”
“Honey,” squeezing your eyes shut, you wished you could soak up all of his fears and worries, “I know it’s scary, and there will be some bad days, but there will be so, so many good days. You will get there, I promise you will. You have me every step of the way, however you need. You are my Frankie. You always will be.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too,” you brought his face to yours, “but for now, you need to stay here until you’re ready to come home. And don’t rush it because we’ll always be there for you. We’ll wait. When you come home, Daisy and I will be right there. You are my home, Francisco. You always have been and always will be. Okay?”
“Okay,” there was a hint of a smile on his face as he looked at you like you had hung all the stars and he melted at your words, “okay.”
»»————- ♡ ————-««
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burnedbyshoto · 4 years
Text
shinsou and the very terrible, horrible, no good, very bad shift
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— You, a new sidekick, screw up a case for a Pro Hero Shinsou, and he demands compensation.
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pairing: older!shinsou hitoshi x younger fem!reader
warnings: age gap (shinsou 25, reader 18), nsfw, 18+, pwp, DEGRADATION, power imbalance, spanking, marking, cursing, shinsou is a major asshole, mindbreak, sorta subspace, happy ending for shinsou, depending on person unhappy ending for reader, public sex, dubcon because of power imbalance
word count: 3,892
a/n: happy halloween. this is mean degradation imo like I thought ive done degradation but this made all those look like praise kink. be careful and click out if its too much
kinktober day 20 main kink: degradation | kinktober masterlist
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How you ever forgot that as a high school hero-in-training student, you were a big fish in a tiny pond was beyond you. Well, to be quite honest, you never thought yourself to be a big fish, to begin with.
You were eighteen, a few months from turning nineteen and had just graduated from the hero course over at UA. That in itself was a huge accomplishment, one that you should take with bubbling pride and joy, but to be quite honest, having such a big name attached to you only made you nervous. To tell the truth, you often wondered just why a hero within the top 50 even scouted you to work as an intern with them and then offer you a position as a sidekick as soon as you entered your third year. Still, it seemed to be a common predicament with BMI Hero: FatGum.
Today was your first day on the job, no longer a student part of a hero work-study, but as a physical, government paid hero — a fickle sidekick! You shuddered as you slipped on the shoes to your outfit, your teeth gnawing at your bottom lip as you made your way out of the locker room, ready to report to your first assignment.
FatGum agency was quite a lovely place, loud and warm, being the first two adjectives you thought of when you first joined their ranks. It did wonders for your self-esteem, and seeing newly turned Pro Hero Suneater, who apparently was a million times more of a nervous mess than you were, made you feel oddly in good hands.
But still, nothing could keep you from the shock that ran through your body when FatGum proudly thrust forward a patrol route for you to follow.
“Alright, pipsqueak,” FatGum jovially spoke, his eyes closed while he smiled. “This is your route for the day! It should take about an hour to get through unless anything happens! You’ll go on the route every three hours, and in between those patrols, it’s the same paper system as before! Good luck out there, y/h/n, you got this!”
“Oh my god, no, I do not?!” you spluttered, hands shaking wildly as you went through the folder Fat had so quickly presented. “What if I die?!”
“You’ll be fine. Remember how Deku and Ground Zero complimented you the other day?”
“Yeah!” you exclaim, your face burning with your shame as you remembered that confrontation. “But that only happened because Deku is a living saint, and I spilled my noodles all over him and Ground Zero! Ground Zero was also, by the way, forced to compliment me by Deku! And all he said was that my combat skills were absolutely shitty but not as shitty as he thought they would be!”
“Ah yes, I remember Red Riot discussing how his friend was less than inept at expressing his gratitude,” FatGum hummed in memory, although that dumb, proud smile never left his face. “If I remember correctly, that means he has great respect for you!”
You made a dying noise at the back of your throat.
“But Deku doesn’t lie! He speaks honestly, so all his compliments were definitely true. Now, y/h/n, let's get through this day together, ne?”
You didn’t agree, but that wouldn’t stop him from throwing you out to the streets, your heart hammering in your throat as you walked through the path he used to take you on every day. Your smile was shaky and wobbly as the people you recognized waved and cheered you on. They were all excited to see you on your own. 
However, they did point out that you were here an entire hour earlier than usual, but hey! That’s what happened when you went from being a student to trying to function as an adult!
“You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay,” you chanted as you passed by the spookiest alleyway on your patrol.
The hour-long patrol was almost done if your watch wasn’t lying to you: a full patrol and not a single instance of needing to help. Well, you had assisted some people in carrying groceries and holding a child as a mother shopped for dinner that night, but there were no altercations, nothing out of the ordinary. 
You marched through the alleyway, your fists in a shaky clenched grip as cold, nervous sweat dripped down your neck.
You were okay, you are okay, you will be okay.
“Nothing to be afraid of! Just a normal, average, no villains insight day!” you spoke to yourself, your body shaking as you pass an opening in the alleyway, and you turn your head to look and freeze.
“Alright, and I don’t want fucking nobody hearing goddamn shit about this drug, got it?!” a man with a quirk that made him look like a blowfish snapped.
Six men stood in the alleyway, all with tall, massive, threatening vibes. You didn’t make a single noise; you knew that for a fact, but their gazes still fell on you the moment the man stopped speaking. A horrible, stupid movie cliche that happened too often in hero life.
Your life probably flashed before your eyes at that single moment, your body and mind instinctively moving to call the heroes before realizing that you were the hero now. What do you do?! What could you do?! Drugs?! Did they have drugs?!
Panicking greatly, you watched their mouths move, but you couldn’t hear them as you took in their faces in a blur. Before you knew it, your mind shut down, and your body took over. You weren’t sure what it was. If you were way stronger than the entire group or if you just had an untapped potential that burst open right now, because you blinked and suddenly there were all thrown onto the floor, busted and bloody and tied up.
You… you did it?!
“Oh my god!” you exclaimed, your hands rising to your mouth as you looked at each and every one of their smushed, dirty faces. “I WON?! I won, oh my god, I won — wait?!”
You stepped over to the purple-haired man on the floor, his mouth stuffed with a cloth fabric you probably shoved in there at some point.
“M-Mindjack-sensei?!” you cried, your excitement of betting this drug handoff simmering off immediately. “W-What are you doing? Were you gonna stop this drug handoff? I — oh my god, let me get this off!” You scrambled to get the restraints off of Shinsou, unaware of the way the other captured men glared at Shinsou, utterly shocked and betrayed as you cleared him.
“Thank you for the capture, y/h/n!” a police officer congratulated you as you freed Shinsou, and you smiled, nodding your head. “Is it just four of them?”
You froze.
You had counted six men at first, and with Shinsou recovered, that made five men.
“I didn’t… I lost one of them?” you deflated, all sense of confidence draining you as Shinsou remained on the floor.
“Ah,” the police officer grimaced, his head shaking before he paused and looked up at you with a halfhearted smile. “Well, you still did good work! We’ll see what drug they were talking about, and if it’s nothing too crazy, they’ll be good to go!”
“Yeah, of course,” you smile weakly, feeling ready to cry as you hold onto your wrist.
“But, uh, who’s the guy on the ground?” he nodded towards Shinsou, who was looking entirely pissed off and ready to bite like some cornered, raging animal.
“Oh, Mindjack!” you respond, hands motioning toward one of the other older Pro Heroes you looked up to. 
The police officer stared at Shinsou, an unconvinced look on his face.
“I thought he was… ah, well, old? And didn’t he have black hair?” he muttered before shrugging. You didn’t manage to stutter out your knowledge of the older man with black hair being Eraserhead because he was long gone already, fingers pressed to his radio, chatting with his HQ.
Breathing out a nervous sigh, you turned to Shinsou with a shy and fully apologetic smile. “I am so sorry for hurting you! Are you okay?” you asked, your eyes scanning the older heroes' stance, unable to read anything but annoyance radiating from his body. 
“No, I’m not okay, actually,” Shinsou spat, his face finally looking up from the floor, and you felt your throat run thick at the rage and anger simmering from his face. 
“W-Wha—” you stammer, taking a step back, overwhelmed.
“You just fucking ruined six months of undercover work,” he seethed, his feet moving to stalk towards you. You found yourself stumbling backward, looking everywhere but at him. You can feel your balance giving; the cold filth of the alleyway wall your saving grace as his fingers grabbed your jaw, forcing you to face him. His purple eyes black in his fury. “I don’t think you realized just how badly you fucked up?! You stupid fucking child!”
A wash of ice-cold realization flooded through you, the horror of what you knew you just did completely dawning on you as tears sprung in your eyes. You felt nauseous, utterly sick to your stomach because this seasoned Pro Hero definitely had shit to do, and you practically shat all over it.
“I am so sorry,” you whimper, pain shooting through you just slightly at the grip he has on your chin. “I am so so sorry, i-is there anything that I c-can do?! How can I-I fix it?!”
“You think I need help from some crybaby?” Shinsou snapped, thoroughly unimpressed by you, his eyes narrowing further. You didn’t even realize you were crying already. 
“I-I’m useful, I promise!” you cry a bit more, your body struggling as the older hero trapped you against the wall, his face glowering down at you with the intensity of a million suns. “I-I’m a sidekick over a-at Fatgum’s agency, but, oh fuck, I’m so sorry! I’ll do anything you ask of me!”
There’s a looming silence, a heavy tension as his eyes drop from your eyes to your parted wet lips. He’s much taller than you, and you can feel every heavy breath expelling on your face. 
“You think a pathetic, worthless little sidekick is able to do anything for me?” Shinsou snapped, his eyes narrowing as he loomed even closer. “A pathetic fucking bitch like you? I don’t think you can give me even a simple fucking action that would prove your worth.”
The words are hot embers on your ears, making your jaw drop, and your body trembles at the simple degradation. You feel your tears hot on your cheeks, your parted lips invaded by his dirt-covered fingers as he pressed onto your tongue. It had to be the shock of it, the reality of the hot, hard dick pressing into your stomach and the way he was staring at you like some piece of fucking meat, but you gagged around his fingers.
“Why am I not fucking surprised, you goddamn fucking whore,” he sneered, his fingers shoving faster into your mouth, pressing dangerously hard against your tongue, trying to get you to gag and choke around his fingers. “You fucking sure you’re a fucking sidekick? Look at you, pathetic, stupid, crying like a baby in an alleyway? You’re a hero, aren’t you? Fucking save yourself from this, you fucking bitch.”
You violently shake, your hands finding themselves tethered to his shirt, your head shaking nonetheless.
“Oh, you don’t want to save yourself?” He coos, his expression turning the slightest bit amused, maybe a bit possessive, but it lasts a second. You blink, and anger has replaced the amusement, red streaking in his vision. “Why the fuck not?”
“B-Because,” you strangle, your tongue flat against your mouth, your throat instinctively opening and closing against his fingers. “I said I’ll do anything y-you wanted!”
There’s another pause, and you wait pressed against the wall, your chest heaving with your anxiety and weird turned-on state. Shinsou was a Pro Hero, someone who was eight years older than you, someone you had respected since you were in grade school. Yet, here you were, looking nothing more than a slab of meat to him, a hole for him to abuse in his anger because you had fucked up.
“Oh, you stupid fucking slut,” he laughed, his teethed bared into a feral smirk. “You want this, huh. You want to please me any way I see fucking fit, fucking perfect. Turn around.”
There’s no room to argue or think; he turns you around without a second's notice. His hand shoving your chest into the wall, and you cry at the discomfort. He grabs your ass, pushing you uncomfortably into an arched position as he tears your pants down from your legs.
 “You’re a worthless fucking cumdump. Not even noon yet, and I’m going use your fucking body however I see fit.” Shinsou promises, fingers raking down your supple ass. Nails tearing into your skin, fingers slapping your covered cunt. “You worthless fucking slut, dirty fucking whore, already goddamn wet.”
“I’m n-not wet!” you cry, hips spasming against his rough hold, and slaps to your aching cunt. You know it’s a lie, you know that clear as day, but it doesn’t keep you from lying. Doesn’t stop you from shivering when he pinches at the cloth of your panties and removes them from your sopping wet folds.
“You think I don’t know if you’re wet or not?” Shinsou growled in warning, his fingers pinching together your soaked folds. An action that makes you cry loudly, the sharp pain too much for you. “You think I’m some fucking idiot?”
“N-No!” you cry, his fingers shifting to where your throbbing entrance is and his other hand going to your mouth, once again claiming your lips as his nails purposefully impose pain on your heated cunt. 
“You must think that since you’re lying to me,” he snaps, his mouth pressed to your ear, his hot breaths making your eyes roll to the back of your head. You want to speak up, say something, but his fingers are fucking your mouth, keeping you from speaking back. “But again, you aren’t fucking worth anything, are you? You’re not fucking anything.”
Those words whip against your skin, making you twist in his arms, hot tears pushing past your eyes again as you cry.
“Oh, you don’t like that?” Shinsou comments, his fingers pinching and pulling your tongue, and his hips begin to grind his hot, burning flesh into your ass. “Well, you better stop fucking crying because I’m not gonna stop until I’m fucking done — until I’m fucking relieved. This isn’t about you; this is for me. You aren’t shit, fucking worthless piece of shit whore.”
You sob into the brick wall, the tears unable to be stopped, unable to clear as his fingers that were scraping at your folds begin to fuck you at the same time as he fingers your mouth faster. The sensation of being outside, finger fucked in an alleyway by a Pro Hero you admired and respected beyond comparison, made you tremble with want and need. His cruel, completely degrading words a warm fire in your belly and against your skin. 
The sounds of the wet caverns he was currently fucking begin to echo in the wall, his throbbing cock grinding against your ass. It’s a sensation that makes you cry with need, your ass shifting back to feel him more, to get more from the contact he’s giving you.
“Of course some screwup like you likes this shit,” Shinsou grunted, his fingers fishing and rubbing against the spongy warmth of your walls, fingers scraping ever so gently against the velvetiness. You spasm against his touch, your whiney, pleasure-filled noises filling up the alleyway almost as loudly as the choking and the squelching of your pussy.
His hands suddenly leave your mouth, and you’re heaving at the deserted feeling in your mouth. You whip your head around, trying to see just why he had abandoned your mouth, desperate to please him more in any way he saw fit. But instead, you’re met with the sicky coldness of your saliva spread across your face. Almost instantly drying against your face as your still tear-soaked eyes looked into his dark ones.
“Don’t look so fucking sad, stupid cockslut,” Shinsou snapped, his hand that had been fucking your cunt abandoning your warmth and meeting your face. You whined, unable to come up with words as he spreads your slick against your face. A shiver wrecks your spine, a pathetic whimper at the smell, and the feel of the warm thickness of your slick. “You wanted this, fucking asked me to wreck your worthless holes.”
“I-I’m not sad,” you try to defend yourself, your body shaking as you feel the heated warmth of his cock suddenly between the curves of your ass. It presses heavily onto you, skin twitching and throbbing with its emitting warmth and simmering heat. 
Shinsou pauses, his eyes deadly and threatening as he glares at you. Unamusement heavy in his gaze, his mouth set in a small, teeth-baring snarl. “Then why the fuck are you crying? You think you deserve to be crying right now? No. You fucking worthless slut, you don’t. You ruined my damn shift, my damn case, I should be the one fucking crying. Your pathetic ass is worthless and tried to make my life the same, and that won’t fucking fly.”
The words tighten at your throat, your body trembling as tears continue to flow. His words are white-hot against your skin, and although it hurts to hear it, your cunt clenches in response, slicking even more.
His hand comes down suddenly onto your ass. The slap sharp and stinging, echoing loudly against the alleyway walls as you scream in pain. It throbs, your back contorting as you try to stretch the skin that makes you ache. But Shinsou spanks your ass again, without warning, his hand unmerciful against your soft, swelling flesh. You yelp again.
He spanks again, and again, and again. Each echoing action sending your voice screaming, counting them without even being told, succumbed to him and his every action and thought without needing to be. He spanks you until your ass feels raw and bloody, the bruises undoubtedly forming as he pinches the folds of your dripping cunt.
“Stick your ass out more,” he growls, tugging at the fold, making you stumble. The cock pressing onto the split of your ass feels heavy, and you twitch at the seeping pre-cum dripping onto your muscled rim. The bricks scratch at your face, and you find your ass wiggling out further from the wall, your back arched more as the cold wall sings through the clothes on your breast. “I’m not gonna put more fucking effort into fucking a goddamn worthless bitch than I should.”
And with that, your ass perfectly exposed for him to use and fuck. His throbbing cock presses through your pussy and slams all the way into you.
There were many pains you were used to as an aspiring hero. You were used to being punched, kicked, stabbed, thrown about, etc. Each of those pains were something you had been taught to make feel better, each pain demonstrated to you so that it wouldn’t be the thing that took you out. But there was no training for the way that his thick cock pressed through your impossibly tight entrance. There was no pain that could relate to the white fire of your rapidly fluttering entrance that was trying too hard to keep up with his slamming thick cock.
“IT HURTS!” you shriek, body twisting, tears flooding your cheeks as you feel weak in the legs. Body moments from falling. “It hurts so much! Please! It hurts!”
“Oh? It hurts? It's supposed to fucking hurt you fucking idiot, fucking whore,” Shinsou snapped in return, his hips firing into even faster than before. His massive body practically caving onto you as his cock rockets into you. Unforgiving, relentless, and with the drive to make him cum. Your vision swirls and spins as the pain reaches its peak, your mouth opening, your voice no longer working. But oh, how the saliva dripped from your mouth as his hands abandoned your waist to grab onto your stretched cheeks. He held onto your cheeks like some gag, slamming your head into his chest so your dazed eyes could stare up at him as his menacing gaze bore down on you. “You think this was supposed to make you feel good? I don’t give a shit if you cum. This is for me. I’m not fucking stopping until I’m done using you, so shut the fuck up.”
Your whimper is soft, no longer able to keep up with the pleasure your body begins to reach as the pain becomes one of pure bliss. Your eyes crossing as every thrust of his welcomed cock drives you further and further up the wall. The squelching of your meeting sexes almost sounds like a nursery rhyme. A pleasant noise that makes you giggle deliriously as Shinsou continues to degrade you continues to spout how insignificant you are.
“Your only purpose in your shit life is to be my fucking cumdump, fucking bitch, do you understand me?” Shinsou spat, his thrusting becoming barbaric, stammering in his power and speed. You laugh, your head nodding as you stare up at him with loving eyes, the drool and tears on your face trailing down your throat, soaking your uniform. “Tell me what your purpose is?”
“To be your cumdump!” you laugh, elation bubbling in your chest, fluttering deep around your cunt until you felt Shinsou’s teeth sink into your throat.
The feeling of hot, sticky cum expelling into your cunt feels like blistering euphoria, his heavy, rough breathing on your skin, making you moan softly. Your own orgasm hits, much softer, much more controlled than his as your walls clamp down like a vice around him. Your orgasm is warm, sounding deep within you that you almost didn’t realize you were dropped to the floor.
A soft, pitiful moan sounds from your lip, your eyes focused on Shinsou, who’s shoving his limp cock back into his pants, but his eyes are on the skyline.
“I-I’m sorry for messing up your… your case,” you rasp on the floor. 
Shinsou shifts on his feet, his gaze lingering longer onto the skyline before finally setting onto you. The anger seems to have disappeared, a look of slight boredom but the excitement in his eyes as he leans down over you. You feel breathless when his mouth presses against yours in a short, chaste kiss.
“I think you just helped me keep my cover, slut; maybe you do have some worth,” he laughed against your mouth.
He leaves you there, your body going limp and blackness taking over the moment he disappears.
453 notes · View notes
wind0wg0blin · 4 years
Text
Wolf Predator x Reader
Gender Neutral Reader 
You accidentally befriend Wolf. An AvP Requiem Fix it fic if you will.
Also I didn’t beta read this & I wrote it on my phone so like, if theres a bunch of issues you know why lmao
It had almost been a full week since you had been kicked out of your house. You had decided to come clean to your parents about how you truly felt and the things you had been doing and they did not take too kindly to this. Being far from the perfect Christian child they wanted they simply threw you out with only the clothes on your back and the things in your pockets. 
You had been lucky enough to couch surf at some friends houses for the first few nights but now your luck had run out. Now you found yourself trudging through the sewer system in one of the larger tunnels that ran under the city. You had gotten a tip that a group of homeless people often stayed down here during the colder nights and if you wanted any long term chance of living on the streets you would need to get in with them. 
You had little more than the light from your lighter to illuminate your path. The already pitch black darkness only seemed more menacing with each scuffle coming from within it. You knew better than to be put off though. As nothing down here could truly hurt you. Or at least, this is what you thought. 
The tunnel you had been traveling through eventually came to an end. Opening into a rotunda, where multiple tunnels came to an intersection. You were still a few meters away from the true end of the tunnel when you heard strange inhuman sounds. Then came the gunfire and screams. 
You couldn't help the startled jump as you drove down trying to hunker against the side of the tunnel. You could see the large silhouettes of some creatures ahead of you. It was clear that they were fighting. It was also clear that one was losing. 
Massive black snake like monsters swarmed after a more humanoid but still oddly reptilian creature. It was outfitted in some kind of armor that seemed to be doing little good as one of the black serpents sunk its teeth into his leg. You wanted to look away, you wanted to turn and run. Yet something in you compelled you to stay, it made you want to help your fellow underdog. 
Crouching, you rushed forward to the edge of the tunnel following the pathway to stay out of the sewage. A piece of copper piping was laying propped up against the flooring of the sewer. The perfect way for you to make a distraction. 
Your plan was to get the attention of the monsters saving the other and allowing them to escape possibly killing you in the process. But in the end you would rather die knowing you saved another life than to not try at all. 
Taking the pipe in both hands you slammed it into the metal wall beside you. The reverberating Tang was more than enough to garner their interest but not their attention as the largest of the serpents continued its assault on the now struggling humanoid. 
Without thinking you blindly charged forward and brought the pipe down as hard as you could on the serpents back hearing a satisfying crack as it hissed in pain turning now to face you. You acted on instinct as you turned your grip and swung the pipe like a bat striking the monster across the face knocking it away from you. The other smaller monsters that had been lurking in the shadows watching you took this opportunity to lunge. 
Dropping to your knees in the filthy sewage you braced the pipe against the floor and using the creature's own momentum against it. It leaped directly onto you and appropriately directly onto the tapered end of the pipe driving it into its chest. Green blood leaked out from the wound as the pipe hissed and you stumbled back as it ate through it like acid and finally cracked. 
Just as you fumbled to get away from the dying serpent. The other smaller one darted out to attack you from behind. You had no idea this was even happening until you saw a ball of white hot energy fly past you and incinerate the creature. 
You couldn't help your ragged breath as you looked back to the humanoid. The largest of the monsters had vanished during your fight most likely fleeing back to the surface. Leaving you and the reptilian humanoid remaining. They stood before you now and in the moonlight you could make out their visage. 
A large mask covered their face. They were gauntlets and some kind of full body fish netting. Multiple gadgets covered their wrist and belt. They easily towered over you. The emotionless eyes of the mask glaring down at you as you suddenly realized that this had been a very very stupid thing to do. 
Your moment of terrified silence was broken when you heard distant screaming and the cries of that monster. 
All in a moment an object was being thrust into your hands and you were pulled to your feet. As you looked down and processed that a much too large spear had been placed into your hand, the creature strode a few paces away from you before quite literally punching through the ground above you. 
You stared in stunned horror for a moment before you watched the monster clamber out. When you slowly approached you could see that he was standing there looking back towards you expectantly. 
You couldn't help but yelp as you were once again manhandled being hoisted up by your forearm. 
Before you could even question what was happening your accidentally acquired partner was leading you away towards the town. 
-----
You had been following Wolf, what you had nicknamed the lone hunter, all over town chasing down this alien as you have come to understand. Your chase has led you all over town and now finally to the hospital where it seemed to be making its final stand against the two of you. It had always managed to slip away at the last moment in your previous interactions though this time you were certain you would not allow it to escape. 
As you made your way through the hospital you tried your best to ignore the trail of carnage that was left in its wake. Soon enough you found yourself outside on the rooftop of the hospital. You were surrounded by people from the town that had somehow found their way here as well as a swarm of aliens. You couldn't tell which was worse as stray gunfire threatened to off you just as much as the aliens stalking you in the shadows. 
Wolf had the predalien busy for most of the fight as you and the other towns folk focused on picking off the rest of the swarm. Things eventually came to a head as the once formidable swarm of aliens now dwindled in number and the townsfolk were clambering into the helicopter as it prepared for take off. Wolf though was nowhere to be seen. 
The only sign you had of his position was the deep roar that sounded out through the worsening rainfall. Stumbling over the slick roofing you forced yourself to move as fast as you could in the direction you heard the fighting. With the spear gripped tightly in your hand you could see just vaguely through the veil of rain that Wolf was pinned with his back to the wall. 
Panicking you did the only thing you could think of in that split second. Smashing the blunt side of the spear against the exposed air conditioning unit you screamed out towards the predalien in a means to draw its attention towards you. 
In all honesty, you had done this as a desperate attempt to draw it away from Wolf not expecting it to actually work. You felt your heart stutter in your chest as suddenly the predalien was charging at you roaring over the thunder of the storm. You screamed now this time in true terror as you threw the spear at it. 
The spear sailed cleanly over its shoulder clattering somewhere beyond it as the predalien now leaped for you. With nowhere to run you ducked back and forced yourself between the air conditioning unit and the wall of the hospital. You were able to squeeze down just out of the predalien initially swipe as it now tore at the metal of the unit to get to you. 
As you stared up at the hideous beast you honestly hoped this would not be the end of you. Everything had just seemed to be getting interesting for you. 
Closing your eyes you held your breath as you prepared for pain as the top panel of the unit was torn away exposing you to the predalien. Though just as you feared your end was upon you it was the aliens screams that filled the air and not yours. You were yanked back as the aliens blood splattered the ground where you had stood moments before eating holes through the flooring. 
The alien staggered a moment before collapsing into a pool of its own acidic blood. A spear protruding from the carapace of its skull. Wolf was standing behind you, his hand still firmly on your upper arm as he stared down at the body of the alien. 
You felt as if you didn't have time to do so much as catch your breath. Wolf was already moving, ushering you to follow him as he pressed buttons on his wrist thingy. You all but ran after him, his strides normally dwarfing your own but now his hurried step left you behind. 
You stopped and watched him feeling more than a little frustrated as to why now he had a sense of urgency. Wolf all but yanked his mask up off the floor before pointing at you forcefully and motioning hurriedly for you to follow. 
Though obviously you were not moving fast enough for him as he doubled back and threw your soaking wet form over his shoulder. You feel like you didn't protest as much as you really should have as you watched Wolf take what looked to be a step straight off the edge of the building. Though instead of plummeting to your death, his feet found surface on something you just had yet to have seen. 
Your eyes widened in shock as a spaceship materialized around you. Wolf dropped you down in a much too large chair as he sat down in a matching one to your left. The dash in front of you lit up in an array of switches, dials and buttons. Wolf hit something and suddenly the view of your hometown from the front window slipped away and transformed into the night sky. All in the matter of a night your life up until that point disappeared. Leading you to where you were now. Sitting in the pilot's chair of an alien spacecraft with an alien you accidentally befriended soaked to the bone. 
So much for being the perfect Christian child huh?
If you enjoyed please leave a like and reblog! Thank you so much <3 
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A/N: holy SHIT u guys the way i absolutely LOVE how this turned out,,,,, i REALLY hope u guys love it as much as i do and pls pls pls don’t be afraid to tell me ur favorite parts or give me suggestions for the next part!! and thank u miss tanya @sunflowers-styles​ for beta reading this part!!! ily mwah<3
Warnings: some explicit language & slight sexual innuendos
Word count: 5.9k+
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You gaze out into the crystal blue ocean as you drive along the beachfront, car window ajar allowing the salty, warm breeze to kiss your skin gently. The sun glimmers brightly in the sky, not a single cloud in sight and you feel as though nothing could possibly go wrong. 
Deidre invited you on this beach trip as a last minute getaway. She knew you’d been having a bit of a hard time with your mental health recently, so she decided to rent a beach house for the two of you to try and help you get out of your “funk” as she called it. Two weeks of relaxation with nothing to worry about. Just lounging around in the warm sun with your best friend for 14 days. You simply couldn’t say no. 
Seeing as Deidre has been your best friend for the majority of your lifetime, trips like these aren’t uncommon in the slightest. In fact, you’ve been on so many vacations with her and her family that you can’t even fathom going somewhere like this without her. 
“Do you wanna stop and grab something to eat before we get to the house?” The sound of her voice draws you from your almost dazed state and you turn to look at her as she drives. Immediately at the mention of food, your stomach gurgles violently, loud enough for both of you to hear which causes you both to burst into a fit of laughter.
 “I guess that answers your question better than anything.” You choke through laughter. 
“Well then,” She giggles, “McDonald’s, here we come!” 
The two of you purchase almost the entire McDonald’s menu and eat approximately 3/4ths of it in the car before you’re finally headed to the beach house with bloated tummies and quenched appetites. 
Eventually, you’re pulling into the driveway of a small, teal beach house facing the ocean. The house is lifted on stilts due to its position near the ocean and the paint is slightly worn, chipping away on the wooden slats most likely due to past tropical storms. There are two sets of steps, both leading to a wrap around porch, one coming from the back of the house (where the pool is) and one leading directly to the front door. It’s quaint and homey and you love it. 
When you’d initially pulled in, you hadn’t noticed the other car parked in the driveway, but now that you’re stepping out of Deidre’s car, your gaze falls directly onto the bright yellow Ferrari parked only a few feet away from you. There is only one person you know that owns that exact car. 
“Oh! I forgot to mention, Harry is staying here too.” 
You whip your head in Deidre’s direction, your jaw nearly dropping from its hinges. “Why didn’t you tell me that earlier??”
She shrugs casually as she swings the drivers door shut and walks around to the back. “I guess I forgot.” She presses a button on her keys and the back door slowly opens in front of her. “Plus, I didn’t think you’d mind, the two of you have always gotten along.”
“Deidre, that’s not why I’m upset-”
“Great, then what’s the problem?” She interrupts, eyebrows raised in question as she stares at you. You definitely aren’t one for violence, but the image of smacking her directly across the face flashes across your mind for a moment and you seriously consider doing it. “He’s just here to relax like us. And he’s paying for the place, so I couldn’t really say no.”
You let out an exasperated groan in response, slamming the passenger door shut and stomping around to the back of the car so that you can retrieve your own bags. 
The truth is, you and Harry had gotten along in the past, which would give you no reason to be panicking right now, but something you hadn’t told Deidre was that for the entirety of your childhood, you were madly in love with him. Yes, he’s older than you by a few years, but that never stopped you from pining over him from the ripe age of six. You had watched the way he treated his two sisters and mother for so long and fell in love with his kindness and care for others. You used to daydream about the day he would realize his love for you, but of course Harry got famous and that day never came. 
It’s been years since you’ve seen him in person. The last time you were in direct contact was nearly 4 years ago, a couple years after he went on The X Factor and was immediately consumed by fame. He was 18 at the time, visiting home during a little break, and you were having a sleepover with Deidre, but the length of your collision wasn’t very long. A few harmless words were exchanged during dinner and then you and Deidre had excused yourselves to continue your evening and that was it. Then, he was undeniably the most attractive boy you had ever seen and now, if it was even possible, he’d blossomed into a beautiful man, even more attractive than he was before.
As you begin to haul your bags out of the trunk, Harry appears at the top of the steps, screen door leading into the house flapping loudly behind him. 
“Need some help with bags?” He calls, swiftly galloping down the wooden steps.
Deidre sighs in relief, “That’d be great, thanks Harry!” 
His long, curly hair is pulled into a tight bun at the top of his head, a few stray curls framing his beautiful face. He smiles at you, dimples sinking deeply into his cheeks as he strides towards you, “Long time, no see,” 
You feel the heat rising in your cheeks and you smile sheepishly, “Hi, Harry, how are you?”
“I’m pretty good! And yourself?” He asks, effortlessly tugging your large bag from the trunk of the car and slinging it over his shoulder. 
You swallow thickly, struggling to keep your eyes off of his straining muscles through his thin t-shirt. “I’m uh- I’m good as well.” 
“Glad to hear it, babe.” He winks and you watch as he takes a few smaller bags from the trunk, heading back up the stairs and through the front door, breathing out a shaky sigh before grabbing your remaining bag. 
Deidre is already halfway up the stairs behind him when she calls back to you, “Can you close the trunk before coming up?” 
You shoot her a quick thumbs up and drop the bags onto the cement driveway, lifting your arms above your head and slamming the large door shut before picking up the bags again and heading towards the stairs. You’re still quite stunned at what just happened and, frankly, you’re a little bit vexed with Deidre’s nonchalant way of sharing that Harry was going to be joining you on what was supposed to be a relaxing trip. Nevertheless, you’re forced to set your feelings aside and keep your mouth shut for fear of Deidre prying the truth out of you. 
As you step into the house, screen door slamming behind you, you take a gander around the living area. It’s small and you can tell it hasn't been redecorated since at least 1985. Every piece of decor has some sort of relation to a beach (quite fitting considering where you are). Even the wallpaper is covered with small seashells and fish and it makes you chuckle. There’s an opening connected to the living area that leads directly to the kitchen, a second doorway that you assume leads to the bedrooms, and a large sliding glass door that leads to the back porch. 
Deidre saunters out of the second doorway, “C’mon, let me show you our room!” 
You frown, “Our room?”
“Yeah, there are only two bedrooms.” 
“Oh,” You take a moment to breathe in, feeling your frustration building with every passing moment as you follow her into the small hallway. You pass the first door on your right, glancing inside to find the bathroom before moving on. The next door you pass is a bedroom decorated identically to the living room, a queen sized bed crammed into the corner with a quilt covered in clownfish and seaweed and the last door is another bedroom. This bedroom is painted a bright coral pink and the theme seems to be seashells due to the seashell print on the bed’s quilt and the framed seashells above the bed. This room, although similar to the first one, is a little bit larger and the bed rests directly in the middle of the room instead of it being crammed into the corner like the first one. 
You step into the room after Deidre and toss your bags onto the floor next to the wall before throwing yourself onto the bed as you kick your shoes off. “I’m so ready to relax,” 
She hums as she unzips her large bag and begins shoveling her clothes into the top drawer of the dresser across from the bed. “Me too,” 
“I think I might go for a swim,” You turn over onto your back, lifting yourself up to sit on the edge of the bed as you look at her. “Wanna join me?” 
“As soon as i finish unpacking, I will.”
You shoot her a quick thumbs up and shove yourself off of the bed and towards your bags. Harry had set your large bag of clothes right beside the door, so you fall to your knees and pull it towards you to search for your bathing suit. 
“Go ask if Harry wants to come, too.” She adds, tossing her own bathing suit onto the bed. 
You hate her. You want to strangle her. It’s like she knows. But of course, she doesn’t. You’d never told anyone about your little crush and you planned to keep it that way. Tucking the valuable information into the very back of your mind for the rest of eternity. 
Without a word, you push yourself onto your feet and pad through the doorway, the thick carpet squishing softly beneath your bare feet. You’re hesitant to call for him at first, quietly wandering through the hallway, peering into the open doorways. Both rooms are empty, but there’s evidence of him sprawled across the bedroom. A large suitcase thrown haphazardly on the bed with clothes and shoes strewn all around it. 
 “Harry?” You continue walking, stepping out into the living room to find him lounging on the couch with the TV on in nothing but a pair of tight, black jeans, tattoos on full display. “Oh, there you are,” He looks up at you, a hint of mischief behind his virescent eyes. “Dee was wondering if you wanted to go for a swim with us.” it’s a statement, of course, but the wavering of your voice makes it sound like a question. 
“I would,” He starts, sitting up a little and reaching for the TV remote to turn down the volume. “But it looks like it’s about to rain.”
You frown, turning to the sliding glass window to find that in the short amount of time it took for you to take your bags from the car and into the house, the sky had filled with dark, fluffy clouds. 
“Shit.” 
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Thunder rumbles in the distance, droplets of rain mizzling against the windows and roof quietly as the three of you keep yourselves dry inside the beach house.
“Alright, we have Monopoly, Life, Scrabble, Cards Against Humanity, a deck of regular playing cards, Jenga, and a few puzzles.” Deidre lists as she shovels through the large chest beside the couch, labeled ‘Games’. “Which one sounds the most fun right now?” 
You curl your feet underneath you on the couch and shrug, “A puzzle sounds nice.”
She nods, turning to Harry who’s making himself a sandwich in the kitchen. “Harry?” 
“I agree with her on the puzzle.”
“Puzzle it is, then.” She concludes, grabbing the first puzzle her eyes land on and setting it on the wooden coffee table. Another fit of thunder causes the house to shiver and you sigh, silently cursing the rain for trapping you inside on the first day of vacation. 
After Harry comes back into the living room and settles onto the couch beside you, Deidre sits on the other side of the coffee table and dumps the puzzle pieces out onto it. A show you’ve never heard of plays on the TV behind her and you glance up from the puzzle every now and then to watch it as the three of you sit in silence. 
The entire evening Harry sits beside you, his arm gently nudging yours every time he reaches forward to move a puzzle piece. At first, you brush it off as an accident, barely acknowledging his presence, but when he takes it a step further and knocks a puzzle piece out of your hand, you glance in his direction to find him smiling smugly to himself. You shake your head, holding back a small smile as you return to the puzzle, finding a different piece and placing it where it belongs. Two can play at that game. 
As Harry reaches for another piece, you quickly reach over his arm and snatch the piece he was aiming for, mumbling: “Ah, here it is! I was looking for this one.” 
You can feel his gaze burning a hole into the side of your face as you hold back a laugh, a grin tugging at your lips.
“Was that necessary?” He hums thickly, keeping his gaze in your direction. 
You shrug, placing the piece into its home. “I mean, that’s the point of building a puzzle, right? Finding each piece and where it goes...” 
He smirks and shakes his head at you but doesn’t respond.
A few hours pass as the three of you work and soon, it’s dark outside and the rain has calmed to a light drizzle. Deidre yawns and stretches her arms above her head before glance at the time on her phone. 
“I think I’m gonna head to bed, it’s pretty late and long drives always make me tired.” She says through another yawn and you nod.
“Me too,” 
“Alright then, wimps,” Harry replies, “I guess I’ll just have to party by myself.”
Deidre looks at you and rolls her eyes dramatically as Harry chuckles to himself. You push yourself up from the couch, stretching your arms out above your head just like Deidre had done moments ago.
“Goodnight, Harry.” She hums, stepping around the coffee table to smack a quick kiss to his forehead before sauntering off to the bedroom. You glance behind you as you follow her, giving Harry a small wave. 
“G’night,” He mumbles softly in response and you can feel his gaze on you as you step into the hallway. Part of you thinks that maybe, just maybe, he’s checking you out.
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Warm droplets of water cascade down your bare skin as you step out of the shower, wrapping a soft towel around your body. You hum quietly to yourself, patting the towel against your skin to dry off as much as possible.
Just as you’ve finished drying yourself off, you realize you completely forgot to bring a clean change of clothes into the bathroom, so you’re just left with the dirty clothes you’d spent the entire day in. Cringing at the thought of putting the clothes back on, you decide to take your chances and slip out of the bathroom with just a towel wrapped around your form. 
You gather the pile of clothes into your arms after taking a moment to moisturize and brush your teeth, stepping out into the dark hallway. Suddenly, just as you’re taking another step, Harry appears at the end of the hallway, crunching loudly with a bowl of cereal in hand. He’s clothed in a thin, grey t-shirt and plaid pajama pants, fluffy socks pulled onto his feet. 
“Shit,” You gasp, eyes widening as you press the bundle of clothes to your chest harshly. 
“Oh, hey,” Harry says mid chew.
You pause, “I didn’t think you’d be awake...”
He smiles sheepishly, “Yeah, uh, I got a little hungry.”
“I can see that,” 
“I can make you a bowl if you’d like,” He offers, jutting a thumb behind his shoulder towards the kitchen.
“Harry-” You scoff, “I am quite literally standing naked in front of you right now.” 
He shrugs, chuckling to himself as his eyes flit to the ground and then back up to you. “Was just trying to be polite.” 
“Um- well, thanks, but I think I’m alright for now.” 
“Alright,” He sighs, taking another bite from his spoon, “Goodnight, then.”
“‘Night.” You murmur, watching him strut past you towards his room. You wait until the door is closed before you scurry into your own room, finding Deidre fast asleep on her side of the bed. 
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Morning comes sooner than anticipated and soon, you’re dragging yourself out of bed as Deidre snores. You’re not expecting her to get out of bed anytime soon. 
You trudge out into the kitchen with a yawn, finding Harry leaning against the countertop with his nose buried in a book. He’s in the same clothes from the night before, but instead of his hair being pulled back into a bun
“Good morning,” You smile, wrapping your arms around yourself as you step onto the cold tile. 
He glances up from his book and smiles back, tucking a bookmark between the pages before setting it down on the countertop. “Mornin’. Coffee’s almost ready if you want some. I made enough for all of us.”
“Oh, great, thank you!” 
“I went out to the shops earlier as well and got some of that coffee creamer you and Dee like,” He starts, pushing his large hand through his long, curly hair. “I know it’s been a bit since we last saw each other, but I know that she still likes it, so I assumed you do, too.”
A smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you take a clean mug from the dish rack lying beside the sink, “I actually do still like it, thank you.”
He shakes his head, “S’no problem, really.”
The coffee maker beeps twice to indicate that the coffee is finished brewing and Harry turns, reaching out for your mug. “May I?”
“Oh- yes, please,” You smile, allowing him to take the ceramic mug from your hand and pour the scalding liquid into the mug before gently placing it back into your hand. “Thanks.” 
You walk to the fridge, swinging the door open to scavenge for the creamer he’d mentioned earlier. The carton catches your eye and you snatch it from the shelf, kicking the fridge door shut before setting the mug on the counter. 
“Did I get the right kind?” Harry asks as you unscrew the cap. 
“Yep!” You smile, pouring the cream into the dark coffee, causing the two to swirl together into a thick, hazel colored liquid. You find a small spoon in one of the many drawers lining the countertop and you drop it into the liquid, stirring it momentarily before tapping off the excess liquid and placing the spoon into the sink. Glancing back up at him, you take a careful sip from your mug to test the temperature. 
“Good?” He asks, sipping from his own mug slowly. 
“Great.” You confirm, taking a larger sip as you lean your hip against the counter. 
The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a few long moments, sipping your coffee leisurely before Harry speaks. 
“Do you-” He clears his throat, “Do you want to go sit out on the back deck with our coffee? The weather’s great and the view is phenomenal.” 
He seems slightly more nervous than he had been the day before, most likely due to your brief run in that evening, but you don’t mind. “Yeah, that sounds nice!”
He nods towards the doorway with a smile, waiting for you to take the first step before following behind you through the sliding glass door. There are a few chairs settled around a small, round table, overlooking a breathtaking view of the beach where a few people are getting their morning jog in or just strolling leisurely along the shore. You slide yourself into the furthest chair, careful not to spill the hot coffee in your hand as you do so, watching Harry as he does the same. 
You wonder why, if he was paying for the entire trip, he would choose such a cheap beach house in such a rural part of this particular beach. Seeing as he was a multi millionaire, you’d assume he would choose the most expensive place to stay in the most popular area, but that obviously isn’t the case. Not that you aren’t grateful for staying there for free, because you are, you’re just curious. 
“So,” You begin, sipping your coffee for a moment before continuing. “How’s celebrity life treating you?” 
He chuckles, pushing a hand through his luscious mane, “S’not bad. Been treatin’ me pretty well, I can’t complain.”
You nod, “That’s good, I’m glad to hear it.” Pausing for a moment, you curl your feet beneath you on the chair before speaking again. “Can I ask you something?” 
He glances up from his coffee, raising his eyebrows with a nod, “Sure.” 
You take a breath, aware of the intrusiveness of your question but speaking anyways. “Dee told me you’re paying for all this,” You motion to the house with your hands, “And I’m just wondering why you chose to come here and rent this house when you have the money for something much nicer in a much nicer area.”
He thinks about it for a moment, brows furrowed in thought before he lets out a breathy laugh. “Honestly, there are a few reasons,” He clears his throat and crosses one leg over the other. “The first one is that I’m able to avoid paparazzi, for the most part, because they don’t suspect that I’d ever stay in a place like this,” He explains, using his hands to animate. “And the second one is that I like to make things as normal as possible, especially when I’m spending time with Dee. I know she would absolutely love staying in some bougie mansion with its own private beach, but I just don’t want things to be different from when we were kids, you know? I’d rather her not have the image of me being a rich asshole in her head all the time. I just want her to see me as she always has; her big brother.” 
Your heart flutters in your chest at his sentiment, the reminder of just how much he cares about his family causing certain feelings to come rushing back to you. “I- sorry, I know that was a weird question to ask... but yeah that makes sense. I didn’t really think of it that way.”
Just as you finish speaking, Deidre comes bursting wildly through the sliding glass door in her bathing suit and a large towel draped over her arm. 
“IT’S BEACH TIME, FUCKERS!!” She screams, leaping down the stairs and bolting across the dock leading to the beach. Her bare feet kick up clouds of sand as she runs across the beach, dropping her towel carelessly as she gallops into the water. 
You and Harry look at each other with wide eyes, both of you bursting into a fit of laughter at the same time. You open your mouth to speak, but Deidre beats you to it. 
“COME ON GUYS!! IT FEELS GREAT!”
You look back at Harry again, snickering. “I think we should get out there.”
He hums, “I agree.” 
You both lift yourselves out of the porch chairs, heading into the house to change into your own bathing suits. Harry, of course, offers to take your mug and clean it. 
Around ten minutes pass before you’re finally in your bathing suit stepping out onto the sand with Harry following close behind. Deidre is laying out on the sand with an arm draped over her eyes as she waits for the two of you to arrive. Since it’s still morning, there’s a bit of a nippy breeze to the air, causing goosebumps to litter your skin and shiver to travel down your spine. 
“Finally,” She breathes, pushing herself up from the towel. Harry comes up behind you and drops both of your towels onto the sand beside her along with his book from this morning. 
“S’quite nice out, innit?” He hums, resting his hands against his hips. His hair is pulled back into a bun and he’s wearing the shortest bright yellow swim trunks you’ve ever seen and you can’t help but to giggle a little. 
Deidre rolls her eyes, reaching forward and grasping your arm before dragging you with her towards the water. It’s around 10:00 am and there are a few more people on the beach than there were when you and Harry had first sat on the deck, so when you enter the water, you and Deidre aren’t the only ones there.
Though there are people on the beach, none of them seem to notice that Harry’s there. They’re all caught up in their own vacations, oblivious to the fact that a multi-millionaire celebrity is galloping into the ocean towards you like a child.
You and Deidre screech as he comes toppling into the water head first, cool water splashing around him and onto both of you. The small waves crash into your legs whilst you clamor through the water, Harry surfacing dramatically, completely soaked and absolutely gorgeous. 
“It’s fucking freezing,” You mutter under your breath, wrapping your bare arms around yourself as you trudge deeper into the water. 
“If you get wet, it won’t be as cold.” Harry retorts, adjusting the sunglasses on the bridge of his nose. 
You shake your head at him, “You’re insane,” 
Just as you speak those words, Deidre dunks herself completely under water, splashing you once again as she comes back to the surface. 
 Harry chuckles, “C’mon, you’re gonna get wet eventually.”
You ignore the subtle innuendo. “I have no intention of getting in further than here so if you really want me to go under, it’s gonna have to be done by force.”
He cocks an eyebrow from beneath his sunglasses. “Is that a challenge?”
“Don’t even think about it,” You breathe, glaring at him. 
“You really shouldn’t have said that,” Deidre snickers as Harry begins to creep towards you slowly. His eyes are hidden beneath his sunglasses but you can tell his pupils are narrowed in directly on you. 
You step back with every step he takes forward, small waves crashing into the backs of your thighs at the movement of the water. He lifts his arms slightly as he stalks toward you and you squeal, nearly stumbling backwards and toppling back into the cold water. 
“Harry, I swear to god-” You start but you’re quickly interrupted by your own shriek as he tackles you into the water. It feels as though you’ve inhaled gallons of water from the impact once you resurface, sputtering and gasping dramatically. He doubles over with laughter and Deidre cackles a few feet away. You feel like a sad, wet dog standing in the ocean as they laugh at you and you cross your arms over your chest with a huff. “I hate both of you so much.”
Harry rolls his eyes, “Oh, come onnnn, it’s not that bad.”
“My nipples could do some serious damage right now,” You growl between chattering teeth and both of them giggle. 
“Well, you’re wet now so there’s no point in not swimming with us.” Deidre shrugs, dipping back under as a wave rolls by.
You stand in silent rage for a few moments, glaring at Harry as he tries in vain not to let his eyes flicker down to your breasts. You don’t notice his eyeline wavering, though, too distracted by the brumal temperature of your body. A particularly nippy breeze attacks your damp skin and you whimper slapping your arms around your chest. 
“I’m going back to the shore. It’s way too cold for this.” You huff, the water sloshing loudly as you begin to traipse back to the shore. 
Harry watches you stumble back onto the soppy sand with a slight smirk on his pink lips and you can hear the low chuckle escape from his chest breathily. You counter his haughty chortle with a middle finger thrown up behind you, eyes trained in front of you to shield your view of him. 
Once you reach the towels you’d set out earlier, you unfold your towel and wrap it around your shoulders before plopping your ass into the sand. The chattering of your teeth subsides after a few moments and you glance to your side to find the book Harry had been reading. Curiosity fills you and you reach over, lifting it from its spot on Harry’s towel and bringing it in front of you to examine it. 
It’s a paperback, the cover an off-white cardstock with a simple design of a bleeding heart, impaled by an arrow on the front. The title reads “The Course of Love, a novel by Alain De Botton” and a smile tugs at the corner of your lips. You never would have assumed that he would be such a romantic.
You turn to the first chapter titled “Infatuations”, scanning it briefly and landing on the small, italicized paragraph in the middle that reads, “A marriage doesn’t begin with a proposal, or even an initial meeting. It begins far earlier, when the idea of love is born, and more specifically the dream of a soul mate.” 
“Insightful.” You mutter to yourself, eyebrows raised in understanding before fanning the pages to scour the book further. 
As you scan the blur of pages, you find that there are words scrawled all over the margins of the paper, words frantically underlined like they’d been scribbled whilst he was in a hurry. Your thumb lands approximately a fourth of the way into the book, a small photograph slipping from the spine and into your lap as you open it. It’s a photo of him, Deidre, Gemma (their older sister) and Anne (their mother) all cuddled up together on Anne’s couch with warm smiles on their faces. Their smiles are almost identical to each other as well as their features and, in a way, it comforts you. 
You glance back up from the photo to the page of the book, your eyes immediately landing on an underlined sentence from the italicized section. It reads, “When two people belong together, there is simply--at long last--a wondrous reciprocal feeling that both parties see the world in precisely the same way.” You suck in a breath at the words for a moment but a sudden droplet of water landing on the page pulls you from your stupor.
“I see you’ve found my book,” Harry’s voice belows above you and you snap your head in his direction as he shakes his dripping wet hair. 
You nestling the photo back into the spine of the book before shutting it and smiling up at him sheepishly. “Sorry, I- it was just sitting there and I got curious.”
“S’alright, I don’t mind,” He shrugs, reaching for his towel and wrapping it around himself. “What’d you think?”
“Oh- I only read a couple sentences,” You mutter, tightening the towel around yourself. “But from what I did read, it seemed quite insightful.” 
“Oh, yeah?” He quirks an amused eyebrow at you.
“Yeah,” You chuckle, “Very elegant and sophisticated.” 
“Mmm.” He hums, nodding his head in agreement. 
Your bottom lip slips between your teeth to hold back a grin as you glance away from him towards the water. Your eyes land on a group of people standing around Deidre in the shallow water directly across from you. You frown, “What’s Dee gotten herself into?” 
He takes a swig from the metal bottle of water he’d brought with him before speaking, “Made herself some new friends, I guess.” 
You study them for a moment, watching her laugh heartily at one of the guys’ jokes and pursing your lips together. Wherever the two of you went, she was always capable of making friends. Her natural charm could sweep anyone off their feet and it endlessly left you feeling like an extra wheel. You know she doesn’t mean to leave you out of things, she never has any sort of malicious intent, but you’re both so different from each other that it constantly feels like you’re left in the dust.
You glance away from the group, looking back in Harry’s direction to distract yourself from the intrusive thoughts filling your mind.
 “So, um, what’re your opinions on it?” You start again, clearing your throat quietly. “The book, I mean.”
He smiles as he skillfully tosses his sopping hair into a messy bun, “I like it. S’actually the second time I’ve read it.”
Your eyebrows quirk at that, “Really?”
He nods, tilting his body closer to you and bending one of his legs up against his chest. “Yeah.”
You laugh, “What do you expect from that?” 
“What, like, do I expect it to change?” You nod silently in response and he shrugs. “I mean- no, it’s just… comforting, in a way.” 
“Comforting,” You repeat to yourself. “I guess that makes sense.”
“It also kind of helps me retain the information better, you know?” He continues, mindlessly digging his fingers into the damp sand. 
“Yeah, I understand,” You reply softly, “Do you do that with all the books you read?”
He nods, “More or less.”
There’s an abrupt screech, followed by a few animated giggles and both of you look up at the sound. Deidre is running towards the two of you happily, a wide smile spread across her face as she skids to a stop in front of you. 
“I’m gonna go get lunch with these guys,” She chokes, out of breath from the short jog over. “Do either of you wanna come?”
You glance behind her at the group as they watch her for a moment and then you turn your head back to her. “You go ahead, I think I’ll just stay back here.”
Her expression falls a little and she sighs, turning to Harry with a hopeful look. He looks at you for a moment and then peers back up at her. 
“Think m’gonna do the same. Have fun, though.” He smiles and you nod along with him. 
She sighs again, reaching down and yanking her towel from the sand. “Alright, well, I’m gonna go change and then I’ll be heading out with them for a couple hours.”
You watch as she calls back to them that she’ll “be right back” before galloping back up to the house with her towel dragging behind her. 
“You could’ve gone with them if you wanted to, you know,” You say quietly. “I’m alright by myself.”
He shakes his head, “No, no, s’not really my scene anyways.”
You stay silent after that, watching the repetitive roll of the waves in a mindless state. Deidre returns in a matter of minutes, a loose dress tossed over her bathing suit, her long, dark hair tied into a high ponytail fluttering behind her as she prances. 
“See ya!” She calls after you. 
“Be careful!” You call in response and then she’s gone, engulfed into the group just like she had been before.
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waitimcomingtoo · 4 years
Text
360° No Scope
Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader
Synopsis: the boys fix you up when you fall off your bike
A/n: this is inspired by me falling off my bike the other day. And as I laid on the concrete bleeding, I thought damn this would make a great story. Enjoy
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“I’m gonna ride my bike.” You called out before realizing the room was empty. You opened the back door slightly and poked your head out, feeling the warm sun on your face.
“I’m gonna ride my bike.” You called to the three boys tending to the chickens that I continuously write into my stories.
“Okay. Be safe.” Tom called as he poured some food into Predator’s cage. “Wear a helmet!”
“Okay, daddy.” You rolled your eyes at his command, teasing him for sounding like a parent. The boys looked up one by one with grimaces on their faces and you realized how it sounded.
“I didn’t mean for that to be sexual.” You said quietly.
“Have fun!” Harry called as he threw some corn at the chickens, immediately regretting it when they started to chase him.
~
You took a deep breath as the cool wind hit your face. It felt good to stretch your legs after being in the house for so long. You biked out of the neighborhood and past a strip of stores, crossing the street to avoid a few strangling pedestrians.
You noticed some construction in the distance and as you got closer, you saw the sidewalk was torn up. You swerved into the street to get around the construction, steering your bike towards the dip in the sidewalk to get back up. The front tire of your bike hit the curb a few seconds before your body hit the ground. You spun around in the air and tumbled onto the sidewalk, scraping your body on the pavement as you fell. A groan escaped your lips as you rubbed your elbow, feeling the brunt of the fall there. You sat up carefully and noticed a spot of blood on the sidewalk where your hands were. You turned your hands over and saw a circular scrape on your palm, seemingly the only part of you that was bleeding. After checking your elbow for injuries and finding none, you tried to get up. There was an ache in your right hip and left knee as you stood up. As soon as you got off the ground, your head began to throb. Nausea hit you as spots clouded your vision. You picked up your bike and out the kickstand down, immediately taking a seat on the sidewalk after. You felt like puking for some reason, and the ache in your knee was getting worse. You fished around in your bag for your phone and clicked on Toms contact.
“Hello?” His sweet voice came through your phone but he sounded like he was a million miles away.
“Hey. Can you come get me?” You said slowly, feeling a yawn coming on.
“Of course, love.” You could hear Tom moving through the house as panic rose in his voice. “What happened? Are you alright?”
“I fell off my bike.” You mumbled, suddenly feeling very tired.
“Where are you? I’m in the car right now.” He said firmly and you could hear the car door slam.
“I’m on the ground.” You said simply. You tried to assess your knee injury but your leggings were sticking to you. You winced and stopped trying to remove the fabric.
“Yes but where, love?” He asked impatiently but kept his tone gentle.
“I’m on Edison Street. A little past the shops.” You told him as you stared at the stores nearby. You were only a few minutes from home, but you felt too sick to ride.
“Okay. Stay right there. I’m coming to get you.” He said calmly. You nodded, despite him not being able to see you, and hung up. It wasn’t long before you saw his car pulling up next to you.
Tom got out of the car quickly and knelt down in front of you. His panicked eyes flickered all over your body in search of injuries. He noticed your scraped hands and took them in his to examine them.
“Darling, are you alright? What hurts?” He asked as he turned your hands over to get a full view of the scrape.
“My whole body. I 360° no scoped in the air. I think I scraped my Fallopian tubes.” You groaned, wincing in pain as he touched your swelling elbow. Tom drew his hand away and gave you a soft smile.
“Well I don’t know what that means but if you got to your tubes, it must be pretty bad.” He chuckled, happy to see that you were still able to crack jokes.
“I feel like God rubbed me against a cheese grater.” You pouted as he carefully helped you stand up. You felt your knees weaken beneath you and leaned against Tom for support.
“I got you, princess. I got you.” He assured you as he held you up. He unbuckled you’re helmet to make you more comfortable and tossed it into the car. “Did you hit your head?”
Before you could answer, the sick feeling returned to your stomach.
“I’m gonna be sick.” You put your hand over your mouth and limped a few paces away before throwing up into a storm drain. Tom followed you and held your hair back with one hand and rubbed your back with the other.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” He chewed his lip nervously. He handed you a water bottle once you finished. “Here. I’m gonna put your bike in the car. I want this all gone by the time I’m done.”
“Aye aye captain.” You gave him a lazy smile until you felt a pain in your hip. “Ouch.”
Tom looked at you sympathetically and kissed your forehead. He began to fit your bike into the car as you chugged the water bottle, not realizing how thirsty you were.
“Okay. Bikes in. Come here.” Tom tossed the empty water bottle in the front seat and picked you up bridal style.
“I can walk.” You chuckled as he gingerly carried you to the car.
“But you don’t have too.” He smiled sweetly before gently placing you in the front seat and buckling you in.
“There. Look at me.” He instructed as he cupped your chin. You looked at him, squinting from the sun behind him.
“Are you trying to see if I’m concussed?” You asked him. The worried look on his face made you feel guilty for calling him.
“No. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t mess up that pretty face.” Tom smirked before kissing you. You gave him a lazy smile, still feeling inexplicably tired.
“There’s always tomorrow.” You joked and he cracked a smile before getting into the drivers seat.
~
Tom carried you into the house and all the way to the bathroom. He gently set you down on the toilet and began to gather supplies. You smiled softly as your boyfriend struggled to hold the bandaids, hydrogen peroxide, and Cotten balls all at once. He knelt down in front of you and set the supplies on top of the hamper.
“What hurts the most?” He asked, ready to play doctor.
“Ah, my knee.” You winced as another dull throb radiated in your knee.
“Can I-“ He asked shyly as he tugged at the bottom of your leggings.
“Go ahead.” You gave him an approving nod as he began to roll your leggings down. He gingerly pulled the fabric off your knee, watching your face for any sign of pain. You swallowed thickly and he kept going, pulling your leggings all the way off and dropping them on the floor. He poured some hydrogen peroxide on a Cotten ball and dabbed it against your knee.
“Ooo.” You hissed as the hydrogen peroxide stung your open wound.
“Sorry, baby girl. I’m trying to be gentle.” He said and you could hear the sympathy in his voice. He blew on your scrape before squirting the Neosporin on it. Tuwaine walked into the bathroom right as Tom was putting the bandaid on and grimaced.
“Woah what happened? You look like you fought the ground and lost.” He commented as he stared at your bleeding knee.
“I fell off my bike.” You said and let out another yawn.
“Oh no. Did you at least 360° no scope?” He asked and you nodded proudly. Tom looked between the two of you with a confused face but said nothing.
“Hell yeah. I’ll make you some soup. That’s what white people make when someone’s sick right?” He asked and looked to Tom for an answer, but he was too busy cleaning another cut to realize.
“I’m asking you, Tom.” Tuwaine clarified, and Tom turned around to glare at him.
“Yes. We make soup.” He confirmed and Tuwaine rubbed his hands together in excitement.
“Cool. I’ll let you know when it’s done.” He said to you before leaving the bathroom. Tom shook his head and got back to dressing your wounds. He finished up with your knee after placing three bandaids on it.
“Whats next?” He asked, rubbing your other knee with his thumb.
“I think I scraped my hip.” You said and twisted to the side. You lifted your shirt and Tom tugged at the waistband of your underwear to reveal a few pink scratches.
“This ones not as bad. It looks like it’ll bruise though.” He clicked his tongue as he cleaned the wound and put a bandaid on it.
“Is there extra hand soap in here?” Harry asked as he wandered into the bathroom. His eyes landed on you and his jaw dropped. “Oh my God, are you okay? You look like you got your ass beat by the cast of Gnomeo and Juliet.”
“By who?” You asked at the same time Tom said, “What?”
“They’re garden gnomes. She’s covered in gravel. It was funny.” Harry grumbled as he grabbed hand soap from the cabinet.
“Y/n fell off her bike.” Tom snapped, moving a little to shield you from Harry’s view.
“Oh, Damn. I’m sorry for making that joke. I didn’t realize you were 10 years old.” Harry taunted you and you moved to the side to glare at him.
“Harry.” Tom said in a warning tone.
“What? I’m only teasing. Did you scrape your knee too?” He pretended to pout as he teased you.
“Yes actually.” You said sheepishly and he noticed the array of bandages on your knee.
“Oh.” He said apologetically. “Did you at least 360° no scope?”
“Obviously.” You smirked and Harry looked impressed.
“Why does everyone ask that?” Tom asked in utter confusion.
“Damn. Hang tight, Losers Club. I’ll go get you an ice pack. You earned it.” He pointed at you fondly before leaving.
“Losers Club?” You tilted your head when he was out of ear shot.
“You’ll learn to tune him out.” Tom shook his hand and took your hands to clean the gravel off of them.
“He told me I earned an ice pack. What warrants earning an ice pack?” You wondered out loud. Harry entered the bathroom with an ice pack wrapped in a paper towel and held it out to you.
“Here you go.” He handed you the ice pack and you smiled gratefully. “By the way, Zeke and Luther called and they want their helmet hair back.”
“Zeke and Luther? Wasn’t that a skateboarding show?” You looked up at him. “How does that even apply here?”
“You’re not helping, Harry. Cool it with the name calling.” Tom instructed.
“I’m trying to make references my thing, man.” He mumbled in embarrassment. “Do you need anything else, ET?”
“Do you need my foot up your ass?” You snapped. The sick feeling returned to your stomach and you got off the toilet. “Oh, God.”
Tom held your hair back as you puked into the toilet. Harry looked away as Harrison walked j to the room.
“Can you heathens please stop eating my crunchy peanut but- IS SHE PREGNANT?” He shouted when he saw you puking.
“No. She’s concussed.” Tom corrected him as he rubbed your back soothingly.
“Really?” Harrison asked. “How?”
“Stranger Things over here fell off her bike.” Harry carefully snuck in another reference.
“No way. Did she 360° no scope?” Harrison looked at you for an answer and his eyes widened when you nodded.
“Harry! Out, now. You too, Harrison.” Tom ordered as he pointed out the door. “It’s okay, princess. Let it all out.” He cooed as you puked again.
“This is not the way I wanted to find out who was eating my crunchy peanut butter.” Harrison scrunched up his face in disgust as he pushed Harry out of the room.
“Come on. I got you.” Tom wiped your face with a wash cloth and helped you sit on the toilet seat.
“I’ve always wanted to puke in front of an audience.” You smiled sarcastically as Tom pressed a different warm wash cloth against your forehead.
“I’m sorry about them. They’re so dense sometimes, I can’t even believe I’m friends with them. And then I do something even denser and I understand.” He chuckled softly.
“It’s okay. I kinda love our dysfunctional family.” You shrugged. “Not many people can 360° no scope off a bike and have four idiots take care of her. I’m lucky in that way.”
“And I’m lucky you didn’t 420 no soap or whatever into the street.” He said pointedly. “Can’t date you if you’re street meat.”
“It’s 360° no scope.” You corrected him with a smile. “You don’t get it.”
“Can you explain it to me then, darling?” He asked. “I feel like everyone’s speaking another language.”
“It’s when you fully spin around and shoot people in a video game, in simplest terms.” You explained and he looked even more confused than before.
“What does that have to do with you falling off your bike?” He asked.
“Well I did a 360°. Thats good enough.” You said seriously and Tom laughed. His smile faded and a serious look clouded his eyes.
“You scared me today, love. I got so worried when you called.” He said softly and you gave him an apologetic smile.
“I don’t even remember that phone call. Thanks for getting me, through. And cleaning me up.” You rested your hands on the back of his neck and twirled his overgrown curls around your finger.
“Nothing can happen to you, okay? I need you here.” He swallowed thickly. “Who am I gonna talk to if you’re gone?”
“I just fell off my bike, Tom.” You tried to assuage his nerves. You gave him an assuring smile to calm him down.
“It could’ve been worse. If you hadn’t been wearing a helmet, or you had fallen the other way…” He trailed off, afraid to even say it.
“But I didn’t fall the other way. And I was wearing a helmet. I’m okay, see?” You stretched out your leg to show him that it worked just fine. “You don’t have to worry.”
“I’m always gonna worry about my girl.” He cracked a smile and leaned in to kiss you. You kissed him back, grateful that you didn’t bust up your lips too.
“Soups ready!” Tuwaine called from the kitchen.
“Come on. I’ll let you carry me to the kitchen.” You offered and Tom rolled his eyes.
“I got you, baby girl.” He scooped you up, stopping by your room first to get you new pants. He carried you into the kitchen where you found Harry and Harrison wearing disheveled aprons and arguing back and forth. Harrison was piling whip cream on top of a bowl of your favorite flavor of ice cream while Harry drizzled chocolate syrup over it. Tom carefully set you down and let you lean on him as you stared at the boys with a confused smile.
“What’s this?” You asked and they stopped their actions. Harry and Harrison stiffened and tried to hide the whip cream and syrup behind their backs.
“We made you a sundae.” Harry said as he pushed the sundae forward.
“To make you feel better.” Harrison added sheepishly.
“These divs made you a sundae. I made soup.” Tuwaine placed a bowl of soup on the table and winked at you. You were too surprised by their acts of kindness to speak.
“Ice cream is superior to soup.” Harrison snapped at Tuwaine. “She wants the ice cream, don’t you Y/n?”
“Do you want to engage in a physical altercation with me, mate?” Tuwaine leaned forward on the table to threaten Harrison.
“No. And just call it a fight.” Harrison grumbled and retreated to his seat at the table.
“How about I eat the soup and then the sundae?” You suggested time appease them all.
“Lads?” Harry looked to Harrison and Tuwaine for their opinions, and they both nodded.
“Cool. Cool. Cool.” They all muttered. Tom helped you to your seat and handed you a spoon.
“Thanks guys. You really helped to make me feel better. I don’t even remember falling off my bike.” You smiled gratefully at the four of them.
“Aw.” Harry stuck out his tongue, pretending to be grossed out by the sentiment, when he really loved it. “Anything for our girl.”
“My girl.” Tom said through a fake cough, just to remind the boys where they stood with you.
“Bless you.” Harrison said politely.
“I mean it. I really appreciate it. But I wasn’t kidding. I don’t remember falling off the bike.” You said through a smile as you spooned soup into your mouth and it all came out. You chewed as if any of it had gotten into your mouth and the boys had a moment of realization.
“Oh dear.” Tom gulped.
“So she’s concussed.” Harrison nodded in understanding.
“I’ll call the doctor.” Harry went for the phone.
“I’ll get some napkins.” Tuwaine said in disgust.
As your head throbbed from your concussion, you watched the boys scramble to help you out with a happy smile on your face. You meant what you said.
You were lucky.
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Text
water rippling
A/N: I’m so sorry this took so long, please let me know what you think! 
Summary: could you do a young losers x reader where the reader can’t swim but richie convinced her to come w them to the quarry bc he’ll teach her. but while he is pennywise comes underwater and tries to drown her so they have to save her
warnings: this whole chapter is basically about drowning and the fear of it so please don’t read it if that triggers you. 
‘I’m not getting in.’
‘If you don’t get in than I can’t teach you anything either. Fuck, just get in already.’
‘I told you I didn’t want to go swimming Richie, this is all your stupid idea so at the very least be fucking patient with me’, you bite as you dip in foot into the water, then lift it up higher again so the water can’t reach you. The scowl on your face deepens.
You never understood why people swim as a hobby. You’d get why everyone has to learn how to swim - even if you didn’t and never learned-, but actually enjoying swimming? No, those people must be out of their minds.
Richie laughs, mocking you, but all in good fun. ‘Start with one step. Just until the water reaches your ancles. You can’t drown from that Y/N.’
‘I could trip and drown.’
‘Literally how? I’m right here, the losers are further up keeping an eye on us, and all you would have to do is stand up. It’s not deep here.’
You sigh, but know that ultimately, Richie has a point.
Most people don’t automatically back away from water as soon as they catch a glimpse of it, but people hadn’t had a trauma related to it either.
Swimming always reminds you of the day you nearly drowned. It was on vacation, in the same resort your parents took you every year, and then left you in the Mini club while they went off and had a relaxing day. The animators who were supposed to be watching you, spoke a language you, at that time, hadn’t been able to disaffirm, and that’s where an almost deadly mistake was made.
The leaders lured you away from the club house, and you, like every other little kid present, followed them along unfearingly. They were older, and you trusted that they would keep you safe. Until one of them picked you up near a pool, and threw you in without any warning.
At the time, you hadn’t been able to swim by yourself without help, and so the second your feet left solid ground, you panicked. It didn’t seem to matter how many times you tried to wave your arms for help, none of the animators were glancing your way.
You can’t figure out how you somehow managed to reach the edge of the pool, but you did, only to get thrown right back in after by the animator, who thought you were having the time of your live.
Of course, you didn’t blame them. It’s not like you could tell them you couldn’t swim, so they had no way of knowing that, but it still scared the life out of you. For the rest of the trip, and after, you refused to go anywhere near the water. Not even your parents trying to persuade you with promises of ice cream and candy if you were brave, made you take another change in the thing that nearly killed you.
You never tried to swim again, and that meant you had no knowledge of how to do it. It was embarrassing, to decline going to swim during P.E and being forced to explain why. Your peers often ridiculed you for it, and it made you feel like a losers for being such a coward.
 But, cowardness is easy, especially when compared to facing your fears, and you never tried to learn how to swim, even after all the mockery. Only your new best friends hang out in the quarry all the time now, and you’re sick of being the one who has to watch from the shore as the others have fun.
Nothing bad has occurred to them in the water, -you’ve seen them go in about six times in three weeks now, and no one has come close to trouble - and Eddie, who is the most cautious person you’ve ever met, told you that statistically, there’s very little chance of you drowning. At your wits end, the only person you can think of asking for help, is Richie.
Richie might be an add choice, but he’s the only one who wouldn’t turn the lessons entirely boring and practical, like the others might. Richie jokes around a lot, brings humor into any situation, and you need that. You can’t get in your hard about the rippling water, or you’ll back out again.
‘Fine, I’ll go in, I’ll even sit down, but if I freak out and want to get out you’ll let me okay?’
‘Yeah I’m not gonna force you to stay. I’m not Eddie’s mom.’
Maybe you’ll be embarrassed by the motion later, but in the moment, you reach for Richie’s wrist, just to have some sort of support. Richie doesn’t mention it, just careful takes the same steps you do and lets you pick the pace at which you’re going.
It goes slow, but not at any point does Richie try to speed the process along. He does drop down in the water, on his ass, choosing a spot that just covers both of your torsos but is close to the shore.
You copy his every move, breathe deeply when you feel the water ripple around you and adjust to the new intrusion, until your closely packed to Richie’s side, in the water.
It takes a second to set in, that you’re sitting in the water and nothing is happening, but then you let out a breath of disbelief.
‘See, told you you could fucking do it. Repeat after me, you’re a woman who don’t need no man.’
‘You’ve been watching to many soap operas rich’, you tell him when you feel like you’re not on the verge of panicking anymore.
Inside the water, something pokes your leg, but you try to ignore it. You focus on breathing through the initial panic, remembering that nothing bad had happened to the losers despite being in the lake for a long time, and that pretty much ensures nothing would happen to you either.
‘Oh gross’, you utter as your try to force the slimy thing away from your feet. ‘You didn’t tell me there would be fish in here.’
Richie snorts, rolling his eyes as he grabs a handful of water and aims it at your face. He misses -Richie’s aim is always horrible whether you’re playing dodgeball or he’s trying to pass something on-, but he doesn’t care.
‘This is your fear Y/N/N, don’t try to scare me now. Besides, I’m not afraid of fish, Eddie’s mom vagina’s smells like a few died down there.’
You can’t focus on how disgustingly distasteful that joke is, because all you concentrate on is the slimy sensation, slowly sliding up your leg higher and higher.
‘Richie’, you beg, your voice reduced to that of a scared toddler. ‘Then what the fuck is touching me right now?’
A louder, slightly strained chuckle is produced by Richie, like he too is getting worried but is trying hard to convince himself everything is alright.
‘Stop fucking with me Y/N.’
Richie pushes the boundaries a lot, keeps going until somebody gets really annoyed and about ready to shut him up for a longer time, but the sincerity in his vox is so present that you’re instantly convinced he’s not messing around now.
‘I’m not fucking with you’, you raise your voice to a shrilled scream, so loud that the other losers, engaged in a game of chicken in the middle of quarry, also become aware of the situation. ‘Something is down there.’
It’s too late for them to help. The slimy blob, muddled by the water but visually a hand, tightens around your ancle, and snatches, hard.
Richie’s scrawny arms can’t resist against the strong haul, but he tries to hold on for as long as possible. His nails dig into your flesh, and the more you get pulled inside the water, the more marks his nails dig as you slide forward.
You shriek, arms flailing around now that the water is still too shallow for you to not be able to touch the bottom.
Plunges of water drip onto your face, both from your doing and Richie’s, and the others are advancing rapidly to come too your aid. Unfortunately nothing else can be done. Richie has no other options but to let you go, and the hand drags you to the middle of the lake.
Once you’re far enough away that you can’t touch the bottom with your feet anymore, the hand lets go, and you’re left to flounder on your own. Your legs slap around, trying with all your might to stay afloat and give the losers an opportunity to save you. A haunting chuckle breezes over the shell of your ear, and then the hand returns, satisfied with watching you struggle and panic for a while, but now ready to increase the terror.
You get one more chance to scream and suck in a handful of fresh air, and then your sinking down, under the surface.
The water douses your ears, muffles your ability to hear and see, and suffocates you with her insistence. You open your mouth, but it can’t produce a scream anymore, and you realize that you are completely as utterly doomed.
The hand has yet to free you, and it continues to pull you down. With each second that ticks by the fire in your chest spreads, and is unable to be ignored. After barely a few seconds, your movements turn sluggish, and you stop fighting against the hand. It’s at that time that it finally loosens his hold, but the fire has dilated up so much you can’t focus on anything other than the pain. Without ever learning how to swim, you wouldn’t be able to make it to shore anyway.
You read somewhere once that as soon as you swallow in water and it fills your lungs, you’ll die, and the pain will stop.
Your life plan hadn’t included dying this young in your life, but if you must go, you’d rather have it be quick. Losing the strength to hold out any longer, you open your mouth, and feel two separate pair of hands unclasps around your arms. The anxiety inside of you spikes, but you lack the energy to struggle against the grip, so you allow yourself to be guided. It’s not until your head breaks up from the water, and o2 greets you in plenty, that you see that the hands have brought you back up, instead of down.
You gasp, coughing up water, feeling as any minute you could pass out on the spot.
‘Jesus Y/N, stop struggling. We’re going to get you out.’
The two pairs of hands that saved you from drowning turn out to be Mike and Bill, and the float with you to the side of quarry where Eddie is gearing up to perform cpr if needed. If you had some breath back in your body, you would laugh at the sight.
Bev and Richie help drag you onto the dry rocks, away from the water, but still too close for your liking.
‘Get away’, you retches, crawling back in your arms. Eddie, who has been checking you over, tuts, but you don’t let it stop you.
‘It grabbed me. It fucking grabbed me. Get away from the water.’ You think you begin to cry, out of relief and alarm, but you can’t disentangle the water with your fluid.
‘There was nothing out there Y/N’, Ben tries to sooth, approaching you like a frightened animal. Eddie is less cautious, and stamps towards your with a frown on his face. He turns you on your side, his instruction not too brazen but still firm.
‘There was though guys. I swear on Eddie’s mom that something pulled her away.’
‘I saw it too,’ Eddie conforms, not looking away from your body, checking for any permanent damage.
‘Guys,’ Bev interject with a head shake. Her eyes gesture to you, shivering with wet clothes and crying hysterically. ‘Not now.’
‘Yeah. We’ll t-t-talk about it l-l-later.’
It’s Bev that gently ushers Eddie’s prodding hands away, as she opens her arms and awaits to see you reaction. You, once you pick up on what’s happening, accept gratefully, your tears subsiding only slightly once your wrapped up. The others join the cuddle pile soon enough, until there’s a shield of people protecting you and obstructing your view of the water.
‘Promise me we won’t ever go in there again. Not any of you. Please,’ you beg, afraid not solely for your life but for theirs as well.
‘Okay, okay Y/N. We promise.’
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quietmyfearswith · 4 years
Text
afterglow ; august walker x fem!reader 3/3
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status — completed series
word count —  3,916 words
warnings — angst? fluff? swear words
pairing — august walker x fem!reader
a/n — here is the final part of on a lie! next two works i’ll be posting are preferences and the mission :)) lmk what you think!
masterlist | series masterlist
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“Thank you so much for your help, Andy,” Y/N hugged on to her friend tightly; the bearded man chuckling softly as he laid gentle pats on her back. “There’s really not much you should be thanking me for,” He stated as they broke off their hug; he moved to shake Y/F/N’s hand, “Besides your father was coordinating with the cops about setting Perez up.”
“Yeah if only you told that right away maybe this mess wouldn’t blow up,” She jokingly scolded her father who laughed as he rubbed his belly. “I knew what I had to tell them, sweetheart; it was you who panicked.” Upon mentioning how she reacted she could only shake her head. They were then approached by a personnel who informed them that they had to take Y/F/N’s full statement as well as his phone that contained evidence that could end Perez’ whole operation.
“Well just so you know,” She began as she and Andy walked inside the elevator, “When I told them that it was Andy Barber who’d help me I swear they shivered in fear.” Throwing his head back in amusement as the defense attorney laughed, “Jesus Y/N, your dad has been proven innocent! No need to butter me up.”
Still, she was eternally grateful for his help in solidifying her dad’s stance that he was indeed helping out the authorities to turn Perez in; the two men didn’t get the chance to work since as soon as Y/F/N found out about what the kingpin has tasked him to do he outright refused. Leaving his daughter for weeks and with little information about his whereabouts was what he did in order to ensure her safety as well as to take Perez down.
As the elevator came to a halt, Y/N gestured to encourage Andy to get off first; which he gladly did. “I promise I’ll visit you soon; maybe bring you some of that cheesecake I know you love.” The bearded man’s eyes lit up at the mention of the desert, “Oh yes please! That would be lovely.”
Y/N giggled at his excitement and leaned over to hug him once again, “Just give me a heads up before you visit, alright? Will have the guest room cleaned for you, or maybe you can do that just like last time.” As they parted she hit him in the arm softly, “Idiot! See you soon, Andy. Thanks once again, really.”
As she was looking at his retreating form, she noticed how a certain figure was making his way to her. “Y/N,” August — she later on concluded how Henry really wasn’t a suitable name for him and his real name did match him better — huskily called out for her. “Agent Walker,” She snobingly replied as she turned away from him and looked for a seat as she waits for her dad.
However she cursed about how he was much quicker than she was and grabbed her arm so she could face him, “We need to talk.” Though his tone indicated how there was no room for her to argue she found herself looking at him with venom in her eyes as she faked a smile, “I don’t think we do.”
August let out a sharp breath, his grip on her flesh loosening and his hand slid down so he could intertwine his hand with hers, “Please? There are some things I’d like to tell you.” Noticing how loosely his grip on her was, Y/N used this to her advantage and unclasped their hands and walked towards the bench she earlier spotted, “And those are things I’d really rather not hear.”
It was a sight to see for some of the CIA staff who witnessed their entire exchange despite not knowing the whole context of the conversation; seeing the infamous Hammer chasing around a woman who was hellbent on not giving him even a single thought in her mind. To them it was amusing to see how he couldn’t get her to even spare a glance at him. For the agent it was frustrating and was seriously considering kneeling in front of her.
Sitting down on the bench, August too sat beside her; she was turned away from him whereas the large man beside her was facing her. “I need to explain to you what happened; as well as apologize about what happened.” After texting her dad about how she was waiting for him on the benches she put her phone away and pointedly looked at August, “What’s there to explain anyway? You posed as my driving instructor just so you could know more about my dad; and apparently you went on dates with me for the same reason. That’s all there is to explain right?”
Her understanding of how the situation was amazing, but he couldn’t help but notice how as she spoke each word, hurt could be evident in her eyes and it pained the agent to see how badly he wounded her. “Well yes,” As he was stammering to continue his train of thought Y/N had enough of him, “Then there’s nothing to explain then.”
But in the back of her mind Y/N was hoping that he’d reassure her that not everything was for the sake of his mission; that deep down he did develop feelings for her and that he enjoyed the time they spent with each other. But as he fumbled over his words and struggled to voice out his thoughts, she sagged her shoulders in disappointment, “Guess that’s really all there is.”
Noticing her dad was approaching her, she got up to meet him halfway but not before bidding adieu to August, “Goodbye, August. Hope things work out well for you.” Despite injuring himself previously and going on dangerous missions, it was only then that he felt pain that seared through his skin and penetrated his heart. Even though every step she took further away from him made her disappear from his line of sight, his memory ingrained her dejected expression and retreating form. For the first time in years, August had no plan in mind on how to make things right.
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“You know, I thought you’d be much happier after this whole debacle,” Her father’s comment had Y/N snapping up from where she was blankly staring up at the television. She was happy that they were successful in proving his innocence but there was a part of her that felt unfulfilled. “Is it about the agent?”
Eyes widening at his claim, she looked over at the elder and his expression made her decide not to deny what he suspected. Sighing, she fiddled with her fingers as she quietly confessed, “He just did his job but somehow I still feel played. I guess I was somehow wishing that not everything was a lie. That somehow he really liked me,” Thinking back to their weekly dates, she reminisced slightly about how August would often look like his mind was wandering off elsewhere — perhaps he was dreading for the date to just end already, she thought, “But I think that’s not the case.”
Sitting beside her, Y/F/N engulfed his daughter in a hug as he spoke, “You think too lowly of yourself, don’t you?” Chuckling at his statement she nodded against him, “It’s my defense mechanism so pardon me for doing so.”
“But it’s not the best defense mechanism,” He began as he moved so he could look her in the eye, “It sounds like you really care for him then, yes?” Silently nodding her head, this prompted the man to continue explaining his point, “Then don’t you think a clear and transparent conversation between the two of you is what you both need to have?”
Shrugging her shoulder, Y/N pulled away from their hug as she wrapped her arms around herself, “Maybe, but right now is not a good time to do so.”  Kissing the top of her head, Y/F/N reassured him, “Things will turn out just fine, bug. They always do.”
As her father exited the living room she fished out her phone and scrolled through her contacts until she saw August’s number; clicking on it, she changed his name there which she hasn’t changed his name to his real one, given her bustling schedule switching Henry to August wasn’t her current top priority. After doing so, she found herself hovering her fingers as she thought of a message to send to him. Typing, erasing, retyping, and thinking was all she did before composing a message she was still on the fence about whether she was sending it to him;
August, I’ve been quite harsh on you; and for that I apologize. I got carried away and was too hurt to listen out to what you had to say. I don’t think I’ll be ready anytime soon to talk to you for it still hurts too much. While you were out there completing your mission, I was opening up to you; I felt like you were someone I could trust and confide in. I’m unsure whether what you shared with me is real, but know that I won't use them against you. There is also something I also have to foolishly confess — I like you so much that I was starting to fall for you. The reason for this confession is not to guilt your conscience, but just to let you know that you aren’t so loathsome as you think you are. Once you let down those walls it will be worth it for you might find someone you’ll fall for and they’ll reciprocate what you feel. That’s all I had to say, hope all is well with you. 
After pressing send, Y/N felt a massive baggage unload from her shoulders. Knowing that she explicitly expressed her feelings — albeit it wasn’t the transparent conversation she desired it was still progress on her part — made her feel good; but as she blocked his number she felt even better as she went about her day.
Upon receiving the message August felt hopeful that he would be given the chance to patch things up with her; but that spark of optimism died quickly once he noticed how it was written that he couldn’t reply to her since he was blocked. But after reading her message, he felt his heart ache and break. Her being candid about what she felt made him realize how closed off he was being and how bad it affected her. Even with his walls built up she found a way to go through it and showed him a glimpse of the warmth and love he could receive. And fuck if he wasn’t longing for it now.
“Fucking stupid,” He cursed at himself as he pulled at his dark hair and groaned. As he stared at the text, he came into the conclusion that there was something he needed to do — he’ll do everything in his willpower to win her back.
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Perez’ whole operation has recently been uncovered and now he along with his accomplices will be put behind bars. As August was organizing his files, a knock came from the outside of his office, “Come in.” Sloane appeared from the opposite side, “Another successful case closed huh?”
Ceasing his classification of files, he looked up at the director with a stern expression, “Yeah, I guess so.” Never in his many years of working under her had she started a conversation that way. “There’s something that still needs to be done before marking this case as fully accomplished.”
Sliding over a file on his desk, August sat down on his chair as he opened the folder to give it a look, “This is just all the files about Perez.” Nodding, Sloane had an unreadable expression as she explained, “Y/F/N requested that he have a copy of some report so he can make sure that none of his associates or business have any ties with Perez and to report if he does discover anything.”
Leaning his chin on his hand the Hammer still remained unsure about what had to be done; Sloane sensed his confusion with what the agent across from her had to do with what she just said so she spelled it out for him, “I’m gonna need you to deliver this dossier to Y/F/N, at his house.”
At the mention of going back to the house, August could feel his palms slightly damp with sweat, “Can’t we just mail it to him?” Sloane crossed her legs as she crossed her arms, a slight smirk gracing her face, “You can do that; but something tells me there’s some unfinished business you have to settle with Y/N,” His  eyes widen as he was taken aback with her comment but before he could even defend himself she was already standing up and heading for the door, “By the way, another reason for a driving instructor to remain contact with their student? How about additional driving lessons — winter driving lessons, maybe?”
As Sloane shut the door behind her, August was left to think quietly. It’s been weeks since he received the agonizing text and feared that his presence would be met with bitterness. If I’ve gone on dangerous missions before and risked my life, this shouldn’t seem so scary, he thought as he made up his mind — he was going to drop off the file in hopes of getting a chance to talk to Y/N again.
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With every step he took closer to the front door made him clench the folder he held a little tighter; before ringing the doorbell, August held his breath as it opened but quickly exhaled as it revealed an unkempt Y/F/N. “Agent Walker, what brings you here?”
“Just August is fine, sir,” Raising the folder to his line of sight, “I understand you wished to receive a copy of the reports once Perez’ case has been resolved.” The older man nodded as his face brightened up for a bit before speaking, “Oh yes come in,” As he was being ushered inside Y/F/N told him, “But I do have to run this quick errand; think you can wait here for a few minutes?”
His eyes enlarged at the request, “Well yes however,” Before he could get any words out of his mouth his shoulders had the weight of hands in them and was pushing him to sit down on one of the couches in the living room, “Go ahead and make yourself at home in the meantime then.”
As he sat down, the agent had no choice but to follow the older man’s frame exit the house with his eyes, “It’s not like you haven’t done that before, right?” With a smirk Y/F/N closed the door and allowed August to sit in silence as a wave of anxiety suddenly hit him; is Y/N here? What would her reaction be once she sees him? Now I’m not really sure what to say to her.
When all of these thoughts flooding his mind, the Hammer barely got to register the presence of the one he’s been longing for, “Got a lot of nerves coming back here, Agent Walker.” She stood by the wall with her arms crossed, her face bearing an unreadable expression which frustrated August because he had no idea what was going through her pretty head. Though her greeting to him gave him a slight clue that she was still hurt about the whole ordeal.
“No, I’m just here to give this to your dad and talk to him about what went down in busting Perez,” He hated how he fumbled over his words, making him even more meek than he already was. Y/N waved at him, dismissing his excuse, “I overheard you and Dad talking; but he’s gonna talk a while, an hour at least, since he has a dentist appointment.”
An hour? He thought then it clicked to him about how he might have been set up by Y/F/N to talk to his daughter; if that’s the case then I’m eternally in debt to him. Placing the folder on the coffee table he followed Y/N as she left him and headed to the kitchen. “Can we talk?” 
Opening the fridge to grab cold water, she continued to move around the kitchen while the hulk of a man followed her with every move she took, “Isn’t that what we’re doing though?” She sassed before drinking her water. Leaning one of his hands on the kitchen island while the other rested on her hip he countered, “Let me rephrase it; do you think it’s possible for us to talk about what happened between us?” He could see how she couldn’t find her way out of this as she set the glass down and avoided his gaze, “Only if you feel like you’re ready to do so, of course.”
Y/N hated how she appreciated his considerate side and found herself giving in with what he offered, “Okay, let’s talk. But the last time I checked I said whatever it is I had to say, it’s you who really hasn’t said anything, Agent Walker.” She said his name and title with so much spite that it frustrated him, “Can you at least call me August?”
Shaking her head no she looked at him pointedly, “But isn’t that who you really are, Agent Walker? And do you want us to waste time arguing over what I want to call you or talk about,” She gestured to the two of them, “Whatever this is.”
Breathing in deeply, he gathered courage as he spoke with the utmost sincerity he could muster in every fiber of his body, “I’m sorry for what I did. The excuse of me doing it in order to accomplish my job is not justifiable.” Testing the waters of how comfortable she was around him, he grabbed for both her hands, smiling softly when she didn’t flinch or pull away, placed a gentle kiss on the back of her both palms. “Getting close to you wasn’t in my plan,” That made Y/N hurt but his next words diminished the pain she felt, “But I’m glad that I did it anyway — because I got to know someone who has a spark that shine so bright that it lit up the darkness that dawdled inside of me. Someone who’s spark also radiates warmth to glacial cold inside me.”
“All of these sound things you read off poetry,” She called him out which elicited a chuckle from the two of them as August shook his head as he held on to her hands tighter, as if he was trying to prove to her what he really felt through his touch. “Well I didn’t just read it off poetry, love. It’s really the effect you have on me. And I might not have been that open up to you as I wanted, but I was just really apprehensive. I didn’t know if I deserved you.”
As he whispered the last sentence, Y/N’s eyes bulged in disbelief, “What do you mean you didn’t deserve me?” When he refused to divert his gaze from their joint hands, she unclasped one of her hands to lift his chin so she could look him in the eye, “What do you mean by that, August?”
“Hey you called me August,” His smile reached his eyes as he celebrated but Y/N was quick to remind him, “What did you mean by that?” It was an adorable sight seeing the CIA agent get all soft and shy as he shrugged his shoulders, “I didn’t want to taint you — I’ve got blood on my hands and you’re the most innocent and pure person I have ever met and didn’t want you burdened with my baggage once I do let you in.”
Both her hands were now resting against his stubbled cheek, which August lovingly nuzzled his face against, loving the feel of her dainty touch — making him feel as if mercy was being placed on his ragged soul. “That’s not true, August. The blood in your hands is there in order to ensure the world’s safety,” He shrugged his shoulders as he whispered lowly, “I guess.”
“What you did for the sake of the country doesn’t define you — you’re defined by the things you love and appreciate. You define your own self okay?” Pursing his lips together it got him thinking for a few moments, “Well how would you define me then?”
Looking at her as she was caught off guard with his question, “Why would you ask me that?” Smirking at her made Y/N feel tingly as he explained, “Because, I understand it might be too soon, but I do love you. The weeks we spent apart without talking made me realize that I care for you awfully more than I care for myself. I love how you make me feel better and as if I was on top of the world. I have this overwhelming need to ensure your safety and protection; fuck, I’d burn the whole world if it meant it could keep you warm. I love you and you’re how I want myself to be defined.”
Her eyes were glossy after listening to what he had to say, “Don’t cry, angel,” He wiped the few stray tears that escaped her eyes. “It’s just,” She began as she sniffed her hands caressed his chiseled face lovingly, “I never thought someone would think so highly of me. And it also pains me to say those things about yourself; You’re so much more beautiful and wonderful than you give yourself credit for.”
It was August’s turn to feel all soft as he couldn’t hold himself back from pulling her in so he could deeply kiss her to which she was more than glad to reciprocate passionately. They both were clawing for every part of each other that they could reach, needing to feel each other’s touch having gone without it for weeks. As their tongues danced with each other they both reminisced about how they both enjoyed the time they spent together; and how they both couldn’t stand to go without each other again.
Pulling apart once they needed air, they rested their foreheads against each other as August hugged her so close to him there wasn’t any space between them, “I’m really sorry, love. I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you and proving to you that the love I feel for you is real.”
Pressing a few chaste kisses on his lips, Y/N smiled brightly as she spoke, “I’d love to spend my days with you, August. It might be too soon but I too am starting to fall in love for you.” August smiled the widest and brightest and could not help but let out a relieved sigh as he hugged her tight and buried his face in her neck, reveling in her warmth, forgiveness, and love.
He relished the giggles she let out as he carried her to the living room so they could catch up and giggle; an unfamiliar feeling of content and happiness settled within August since for the first time in a long time he felt genuine love and happiness. This all might have started off on a lie and a rocky situation, it ended with him being happily in love and most importantly with the girl he loves reciprocating what he feels and her deeming him worthy enough to grace him with her presence.
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