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mostlydysfunction · 3 years

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From The Stars, Part 9

Summary: Kira moved out of town for isolation and peace and quiet. But that quickly gets turned on its head when a spaceship crash lands not far from her house and a strange creature decides she's its new queen. Luck had never been on Kira's side, but things are going to get a lot worse for her as she's forced into this new role and everything her new alien subject thinks it entails.

Warnings: Lying, shady parents, some hinted at violence at the end.

Authors Note: Again, this has been up on my Ao3 since like February. Link is in my masterlist if you prefer to follow there and get updates sooner. There’s going to be only a couple more parts to this one however, so might not even matter.

MASTERLIST

Kira watches the SUV roll down the hill and into the lake. It’s cloudy, the moon and stars covered, bathing the trees in darkness. Kira’s only light is from the flashlight in her hand, aimed at the SUV currently sinking in the lake. She won’t move until it’s gone under completely, not wanting anyone to see what’s happening.

Two months ago if you had told her she would be standing in the woods in the middle of the night sinking a federal agent’s SUV in the lake to cover up their murder by her alien babies, she would have thought you were insane. But now she felt nothing. Her babies needed to eat and it was just unfortunate that the Feds happened to be the first to show up.

Kira waits until the bubbles have stopped before turning, making her way up the hill and back to the road. It’s a bit of a hike back to her house, the air cold enough she can see her breath fog in front of her. Her mind goes to her children and if they’re warm enough in the barn. Her alien hadn’t shown any signs of minding the cold, but her children were obviously different than him, and she can’t help but wonder if they can tell the temperature difference.

She feels a sense of urgency as she gets closer to her house, hating being apart from her family. They were her family now. Her children, their father. She doesn’t understand the relationship between them, she doesn’t even know if it’s biologically possible for her to love an alien. Humans could feel emotions towards animals, inanimate objects. Emotions including love. Who’s to say it’s not possible to feel the same for an alien lifeform she has no communication with who had forcibly impregnated her with his eggs. Maybe it’s only the oxytocin talking, the immediate motherly instinct she had felt over her babies that was drawing her closer to her alien. Or maybe it was because around him, she felt safe.

Kira opens the door to her barn when she returns to her property, quickly closing it behind her as her babies run up to her. They’re hip-height now, growing faster than she thought possible. All eight of them surround her, bumping her gently with their heads. She smiles down at them, patting them each on their smooth heads. They let out content little cries, warming Kira’s heart. Her alien approaches her, nudging her gently with his own head. She gently strokes its elongated head, leaning against him.

Her eyes drift closed, her brain buzzing with energy. She focuses on it more and finds she can see with her eyes closed. The barn looks distorted like she’s seeing out of a fish-eye lens. The colors are darker, not quite as vibrant with her own eyes, but she can hear every small sound wave bouncing off the walls. She can hear something speaking, not words but a sort of idea in her mind. She can feel her eight babies around her, all of them like strings connected to her mind.

She wants to lose herself in the sensations, bury herself in them, and never come out, but her phone vibrating in her pocket snaps her out of it. She pulls away from her alien, her brain reeling for a moment before she centers herself back on Earth.

“I have to take this. I’ll be back.” She says, backing away from her babies and her alien.

She leaves them in the barn, heading back towards her house. She looks at her phone. She doesn’t want to answer, but she knows she has to.

“Hello?”

“Kira? God, I thought something had happened to you! I was going to come and check on you but...you sounded so sick when we talked last and then you weren’t answering.”

Kira feels a pang of guilt in her chest. “I’m sorry, dad. I was on some heavy meds. It was some kind of viral thing. Wiped me out for a few days. I didn’t even think to look at my phone. I’m doing better now though.”

“That’s good. That’s...really good.”

“Do you want to come over? Catch up a little?”

“Yes. That would be great.”

*********

Kira sets the cups of coffee on the kitchen table before taking a seat. Her dad looks old. Older than the last time she saw him. He’s had something on his mind. She can tell by how messy his hair looks. He would always run his fingers through his hair repeatedly when he was thinking hard. Her mother used to joke he’d go bald from doing it one day. Now that she looked at him, Kira can see his hair is thinning. There are dark circles under his eyes and he looks about as bad as she does, but she doesn't think he birthed alien eggs days ago.

“Kira...I’ve had a lot on my mind recently. About you. About this place.”

Kira sips her coffee. It’s scalding but she can’t bring herself to care. She hums in response, letting him continue.

He runs his finger in a circle around the rim of the cup. It’s an old habit. It means bad news. “You’re all alone out here. I shouldn’t have left you out here by yourself. But...your mother...I just couldn’t...”

Kira reaches out, putting a hand over his. It feels strange to her, to touch human skin again. She almost doesn’t like it. “It’s okay. I know.”

Her dad stares into her eyes for a moment, taking her in. “There’s so much she wanted to tell you. She begged me to tell you, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I couldn’t face the truth. I didn’t know how to tell you. I wasn’t sure you’d believe me.”

Kira frowns, her stomach churning. She doesn't like his words. “Dad...what are you talking about?”

He sighs, taking a long drink of his coffee, staring out the back door. “I remember it like it was yesterday. Right out there. Where the roses are. It used to be hydrangeas before...before you arrived.” He runs a hand over his face. “God, I should have told you this years ago Kira...”

“Dad...you’re scaring me.” Kira’s hands are shaking as she sets her coffee cup down.

Her dad turns back to look at her, holding her gaze. “You’re not ours.”

Kira’s body goes cold at his words, a strange feeling running through her. Her whole life she’d been told they were her parents. This was her dad sitting across from her. And now...

“W-What?” She pulls her hands into her lap, squeezing them into fists to stop them from shaking.

“We don’t know where you came from. Well...we sort of knew...” Her dad glances back out at the garden before looking at her again. “Kira...you fell from the sky.”

Kira can’t say anything. None of it was making sense. Her brain was buzzing, churning, his words seeming like a foreign language. Thankfully he doesn’t wait for her to respond.

“It happened almost twenty years ago. It was almost dark. Your mother was outside planting tulips on the other side of the garden. I was making dinner. Grilling, like I used to. Everything was quiet like it gets out here, but then...the sky exploded. Blew the windows out, it was so loud. Came down in a ball of fire right into your mother’s hydrangeas. I thought it was the end of the world for a moment, but then...your mother was always so quick to act. Put the fire out with the garden hose. I thought it was some kind of meteor, but once the flames died, I could see what it was. It was...some sort of space pod. We tried and tried to get it open, see inside. Eventually, we managed to pry it open and inside...You couldn’t have been more than four years old. Teary-eyed and sucking your thumb. You looked so human.”

He runs a hand down his face. Kira can see the tears in his eyes.

“The feds were on us almost immediately. I wanted to turn you over to them, but your mother refused. She knew what would happen to you if we did. So we hid you. Made up some bullshit story. The feds didn’t believe us, but we were insistent.”

Kira’s mind begins to work at high speed. The visits from the feds suddenly didn’t seem so strange anymore.

“You were so human in every way. Almost every way. You never got sick. Kids always got sick but you never did. You could bend metal with your bare hands and you could hear things miles away. Your mother taught you to control it. She was better at that than I was. I made it my job to make you feel as normal as possible. She dealt with all the...strangeness. That’s why when you told me you were sick...I knew something had to be wrong. Something was going on. You’ve never been sick before.”

Kira clenches her fists tighter, taking in her father’s words. She had arrived on Earth in a spaceship? She supposedly had superpowers? He was right in one thing...she had never been sick before. She just thought it was a good immune system. But apparently, it was something else. Something more.

“Kira...please say something.”

“I don’t...” Kira bites her lip, breathing deeply. “You expect me to believe that? That I fell out of the sky in a spaceship and...I’m supposed to be what, Superman?”

“No, it’s...” Her dad sighs, looking down at his coffee. “I knew you wouldn’t believe me. I wanted your mother to tell you from the beginning but...she thought it would be best...if you thought you were normal...”

Kira stands from the table, unable to sit anymore. “Bullshit. I call bullshit.” She makes her way to the back door, looking out at the roses. The place she supposedly crash-landed on Earth. “You had an affair, didn’t you? I was never my mother’s child and you couldn’t live with that so you made up some bullshit story to hide it! That’s why you couldn’t stay!”

“Kira, you know I would never have...”

“I don’t know anything anymore.” She clenches her fists again, glaring at him. “I don’t know what’s more unbelievable. The story that might be true or that you would spew some bullshit to try and hide something else you did to fuck up.”

“Kira, I loved your mother!” Her father stands from the table, knocking over the chair. “I loved her more than anything. But we couldn’t...” He takes a deep breath. “We tried. We tried so many times. She wanted so badly...but we couldn’t. Then you fell out of the sky like an answer to our prayers.”

Kira feels tears prick behind her eyes. The story is starting to sound not so fake the more she thinks about it. She had an alien hiding in her barn with her babies she had birthed after mating with him. An alien that had crashed to Earth and found her and chosen her. If she was also an alien...it would make her new reality not quite so strange anymore.

“Kira...I’m sorry...”

“I want you to leave.” She says, her voice shaking. She hates it. She turns back to face her dad. “Get out. Go home. Don’t come back here.”

Her father stares at her brokenly for a moment before grabbing his coat and heading towards the door. Kira stays where she is until she hears his car door shut before heading out to the barn. She’s shaking by the time she reaches the door, slipping inside quickly and closing the door.

She takes a few steps into the darkness before dropping to her knees, tears falling down her cheeks. She’s overwhelmed, not knowing what to believe or even what to think. If the story was true, then so much of what had happened made perfect sense. But if her dad was lying to her to cover up something else...either way he had lied to her. He had hidden the truth about her for her entire life. She feels anger bubble up inside her.

Her children are by her side in seconds, snuggling up to her. She reaches out to them, touching them, solidifying herself in reality. She should have died. She had carried eight eggs to term and birthed them. She had lost so much blood...too much blood. But here she was, mostly healthy with no medical help. She had never been sick a day in her life. She had managed to tame an alien simply with her presence. She had seen what he was capable of. He could have killed her instantly that night, but something about her had stopped him.

Maybe she was alien.

Kira is on her feet as soon as the barn door slides open. It hits the other side with a slam, the shadow of her father standing in the doorway. Her heart leaps to her throat, the buzzing of her babies loud in her ears.

“Kira...what the hell?”

“Dad...you should have just gone home.”

#xenomorph #alien #xenomorph x human #xenomorph x oc #from the stars

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fanmoose12 · 3 years

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When I saw this https://twitter.com/tenyawanyad/status/1401561345539993600?s=19 , I thought of Hange in your fic who works as undercover to get closer to Levi but ends up being asked by Levi to bring him to Erwin. Will read all your other works until you update that one!

the second part (kinda?) to this!

God, Hange hated waiting.

Always had, ever since she was but a small child with skinned knees and mismatched pigtails. She didn't wear pigtails anymore, opting for a more practical ponytail, and her knees were only occasionally skinned, but that feeling, that sense of powerlessness when all you can do is watch the minutes trickle by, not knowing what to expect, having no way to prevent the possible catastrophe... It always led to a lump in her throat that was too big to swallow.

And now, after that gaze Erwin gave her, the one that said we'll talk about it later, she felt her insides twist themselves in a tight, painful knot.

It's been almost an hour, a full fucking hour since Erwin had thrown the door to his office shut, inviting the damn thief inside with him.

An hour and they were yet to come out. Was Erwin still alive?

Was the thief still alive?

Hange listened carefully, but she didn't hear any signs of fighting or struggle. She knew Erwin, though. He could kill a man in ten different ways without creating a single sound.

And that thief. Hange witnessed firsthand how skillful he was.

How deft his fingers were, how firm yet soft was his touch, how-

No. Wrong train of thought, Hange.

Distraction, distraction, she had to find a distraction. Thankfully, she didn't have to look for too long. Distraction came in a face of Mike, who leaned against the wall next to her.

"The big man is still in here?" he asked, pointing his chin at the door of Erwin's office.

"Yep," Hange replied, boring holes in that damned door. What was going behind it? And what was going to happen when it opens?

"Had fun?" Mike murmured, looking at her beneath his long blonde hair.

Did she have fun? With that awful thief? With terrible, foul-mouthed thief who had no manners and with the most beautiful eyes Hange had ever seen? And strong, muscular arms she wanted to be buried in? And that toned, chiseled chest that-

No. Wrong thought again.

"Not particularly," Hange gritted, huffing in annoyance. The thief was an enemy, he humiliated her and could have even killed her. She shouldn't find that attractive. Her stomach shouldn't feel so warm, her heart shouldn't speed up just at the thought of that short jerk. And yet...

"Sucks to be interrupted, huh?" Mike hummed.

Hange's eyes widened. What the, how did he-

"Erwin wired you," Mike shamelessly explained.

His shin was kicked right after that.

"Bastards!" Hange shouted, hitting his arm, she was aiming for the head, but that damned tall jerk... "You two-"

"It was Erwin's idea!"

"Awful, old-"

"I'm only a year older than you!"

"Perverted assholes with no sense of shame!"

Hange finally reached his head, giving it a smack.

"No sense of shame?" Mike lifted an eyebrow, grinning despite Hange's vicious assault. "You are the one who tried to sleep with a target."

"I didn't-" Hange scoffed, pointedly ignoring the blush she felt spreading through her cheeks. "I didn't try to sleep with him. It was just a part of elaborate plan."

"Sure," Mike, the ever asshole patted her shoulder. "Whatever makes you sleep at night, Hans."

God, what an ass-

Mike was saved from another onslaught of punches by the deep rumble of Erwin's voice.

"Come inside, Hange," he said, and, oh god, did he always sound so ominous?

Hange gulped and nodded, obediently trailing after Erwin like a naughty high schooler.

The inside of Erwin's office was dark, a lone lamp on his desk being the only source of light. It made Hange feel just a little more nervous, just a little more reluctant to hear what Erwin got to say.

The shadows that danced across the walls and the deep crease between his eyebrows gave Hange yet another hint that this conversation wouldn't be overly pleasant.

That feeling increased, mixing with spiky, hot anger, when Hange's eyes had finally adjusted to the darkness and she saw that she and Erwin weren't alone in the room.

The damned thief, Levi as he had called himself, was here with them.

He was leaning against the wall with his hands crossed on his chest, looking extremely broody, a little mysterious and unbelievably, unfairly attractive.

Hange wanted to kick him. She wanted to grab his soft black hair, bring his sexy body closer to her and then kick him as hard as she could manage.

And when all was said and done, when she finished paying him back for the insult and offense, she'd kiss him. Until there was no breath left in either of them.

Then, she'd kick him once more.

"Hange, sit down, please," Erwin spoke up, his eyes boring into Hange like he knew exactly what was going on inside her head.

Now, Hange - Hange obviously wasn't dumb. She was a little careless at times, sometimes she could be hot-headed and reckless, but she wasn't dumb. She knew that causing a scene in front of their enemy wouldn't end well.

But, by gods, she wanted to cause that scene so much, she was dying to do it.

Erwin's piercing gaze was making her reconsider, though.

It was as they say - the annoying, sexy thiefs come and go, but her strict bosses are forever.

After making sure that she sent the thief the meanest and darkest of her looks, Hange managed to somewhat quell her anger. It wasn't enough to make her forget about it completely - especially when thief had no reaction to her whatsoever - but it was enough to let Hange listen to what Erwin was going to say.

She'd deal with the thief later, when he was out of the safety of Erwin's office.

Sitting behind his large, mahogany desk, Erwin cleared his throat.

"I asked you both to come here to discuss something," he began, putting chin on his hands. "Your last mission yielded unexpected, but largely satisfying results, so..."

Your last mission? Did Erwin mean her mission, or did he...?

Hange felt a little dizzy as she gave it all some thought.

Erwin couldn't do such a thing, could he? He would never do this to her, of all people, he wasn't capable of-

Hange wanted to laugh. Wanted to slap herself for being so naive and then laugh at her stupidity.

What was she even thinking about? Erwin, the sly, manipulative bastard, was more than capable. He could, he would and he did do this to her.

What a wicked, brilliant man. Hange was so fortunate that he was on her side.

The thief, however... Was Erwin really ready to give him his trust? What did the thief do to deserve it?

"I have a new mission for you," Erwin's voice broke Hange out of her reverie, made her jump and gawk at him. "For both of you," he clarified, forcing Hange's eyes to widen even more. "Levi here already knows about one Nicholas Lovof..." the thief visibly tensed at the mention of that name, his jaw tightening and the scowl on his face growing even darker. Obviously, there was some possibly juicy story with the thief and that Lovof involved. Hange longed to know it, she Erwin wouldn't budge, but Mike... especially drunk Mike... there a chance it could work out. "He knows something about us, something that made him send an assasin after me."

His expression didn't change, Erwin didn't even look at Levi, but oh... the tone of his voice, the slight, barely noticable irritation told Hange everything she needed.

Not just a thief then, eh?

"I need you to infiltrate his office, find everything he has on us. And do it discreetly, of course."

"And how should we go about doing it?" Hange asked. Usually Erwin had a plan she had to regiliously follow, where every possible complication was accounted for. Wasn't he going to give her one this time? Why?

A ghost of a smirk appeared on Erwin's stoic features. "Today I witnessed just how creative you can get, Hange. I'm sure you can manage on your own this time. Besides," the smirk became just a little more apparent, his complecency more and more infuriating. "You'll have Levi with you. I trust him to watch your back."

What an insolent, cocky fucker.

"You may go now," Erwin hurried to say, before the volcano called Hange erupted. "Your mission starts in two days. Until then... you have time to get to know each better."

God, Hange wanted to kick him too. She wanted to wipe that smug grin from his face, wanted to ruin that immaculate haircut and tear his eyebrows one hair at a time.

But the thief... Hange wanted to get her hands on him first. So she could simply kick him, obviously.

Hange swiftly rose to her feet, following the thief out. Naturally, she completely ignored the hearty laugh that came from Erwin's lips.

The thief walked fast, faster than Hange thought he would, considering his height, but her legs were longer and she still managed to catch up with him, even with her stilettos on.

Once she did, she looked around, making sure that the hallway was empty. It was, which was perfect for what Hange had planned.

Of course, there were still security cameras all around them, but Hange didn't care about them. Mike and Erwin had already heard enough. Well, now, Hange was going to make him see something too.

Perhaps, it would even teach the old geezers a thing or two.

"Erwin said we have to know each other better..." Hange spoke with a sly grin. It grew wider, more wicked when she saw Levi draw a sharp breath. "How about we start right now?"

The thief froze for no more than a moment.

It was all Hange needed to seize his shoulders and press him against the wall. She invaded his personal space instantly, not giving him a chance to retaliate or throw her off.

She started with his cheek, cupping it gently before moving lower, tracing her long fingers across his sharp jaw, then equally sharp clavicle.

The thief's breathing increased as she did so. He didn't attempt to break free, didn't try to get away or overpower Hange. He didn't even move, just stood there, staring at Hange with wide eyes.

Hange met his gaze, smiling when she saw that his pupils were already wide. She almost laughed from delight when her hand traveled down his chest, just a touch away from his pants, and Levi visibly shivered.

"It's late already," she purred, putting her hands on his waist. She started to slowly sink to her knees, lowering her hands to his thighs.

Something that very much resembled a moan escaped from his lips, as he stared down at Hange.

She moved closer still, just a breath away from where she knew Levi wanted.

Her grin slowly turned from seductive to victorious, as his fingers found their way into her hair.

"It's late," she repeated, one hand leaving his side to grasp at her own ankle. She fiddled with a strap of her left stiletto, feigning great interest in it. "That's why we should get some sleep."

She threw Lev's hands off her, standing up to her feet and stepping out of his arms. "We have a training tomorrow morning."

The thief's face was priceless - the incomprehension, the shock, the annoyance - Hange delighted in it all.

And that quiet sound - the angry groan, god, Hange wanted to set it as her ringtone.

She evened their score, and, damn, was she ecstatic that she did.

Even as she walked away, Hange felt the burning gaze that followed after her. She couldn't stop giggling all the way to her place, still high on her victory.

Erwin wanted Levi to watch her back, and while Hange wasn't yet ready to trust him to do that, she had a feeling, well... she had a feeling she'd enjoy it like blazes.

#anon i know it's been like a month since you sent me this but that art...... wow.....#you wouldn't believe but i couldn't stop thinking about it skdfjsdlkghslgh #levihan

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bruhlsbees · 3 years

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to the end - preview

summary: reader starts her first day at the paper and receives a big break

pairing: niki lauda x fem!reader

word count: 2,116

warnings: n/a

a/n: okay y'all i told you i would be writing something niki related after i finished watching rush and here it is! first chapter will be posted sometime this week - as always lemme know if you want to be on the taglist and if you have any other niki lauda writing ideas pls send them my way!!

You knew you should have taken your car into the shop before your first day on the job. The smoke from the engine was seeping out of the sides on the hood and you could smell the burning of whatever it was that was heating up. That’s what you get though for thinking a Ford Cortina was the best choice of car.

Thankfully you managed to pull into the lot before your car wheezed to death. Pushing your foot down on the break, you held your breath as your foot went down, down, down - the car not slowing. The breaks were shit, the engine was shit, what about your car wasn’t shit? Glancing over at the dashboard, sitting in the middle, was the hula dancer your friend gave you before you left to take the job. That, that wasn’t shit.

When your car finally came to a stop, you cut the engine and pulled your keys out, leaning back in the seat as you stared ahead of you at the building. It was an old car garage that had been turned into a paper company. The main waiting room was turned into the secretary and front room while the garage had been turned into the news room where the reporters worked. It was fitting for what the paper’s beat was.

Looking over towards the passenger seat, you reached into the box that had your belongings and pulled out the newspaper clipping of the job offer.

RACING STRIPES NEWSPAPER IS LOOKING FOR NEW REPORTERS TO COVER THE UPCOMING FORMULA RACE SEASON - NO EXPERIENCE REQUIRED

Not to boost your own ego, but you knew it wouldn’t be hard to get the job. With your four years of experience under your best and bachelor’s degree in Journalism, they’d be a fool to turn you away, especially if they were so desperate. You knew how to work in a room full of men, you’ve done it all your career so far - working in a room full of men eager to cover the next formula racing gossip, now that was the challenge.

If you were being honest with yourself, you weren’t too proud to be working for The Racing Stripes Co. They had a reputation of causing more trouble than they did good and hardly followed any journalistic ethics. You needed the money though, and getting in the middle of formula racing meant your name being shown. Maybe it was a little ridiculous, but as a woman - getting your name out there and showing men that you could do their job just as good, if not better, was what you aimed for.

So you found The Racing Stripes ad in the paper, gave them a call, got an interview, and hired on the spot. Today was your first day and you were going in guns blazing.

Opening the driver side door, you pushed the door open and grabbed your box of belongings before standing up, pulling your suede pants down a bit and shutting the door shut. Turning towards the building, you let out a deep breath before making your way across the lot and into the main waiting room.

The bell that was above the door rang when you pushed it open, smiling weakly as the older woman looked up from her desk, grinning towards you.

“Well, well, you must be the new reporter?” Standing up, she extended her hand out to shake. You quickly shuffled your box into your other hand, extending your right out to shake her’s, “I’m Regina, but please, call me Gina, all the boys around here do.”

Watching her step out from her desk, she pulled down her skirt a bit and tugged her sweater around her before looking you up and down, “Pants girl, huh? I would’ve taken you for the dress type.” She commented before walking towards the side door that led out to the garage.

Taken back, you opened your mouth and looked down at your own attire: loose flower blouse, suede pants, and dull heels. You thought you looked nice, maybe you were underdressed? When you looked up and realized she wasn’t there, you quickly rushed after her, catching the door before it shut in your face and into the garage, scanning the room at the desks that were lined up, voices talking over voices as some men screamed into the phone, scribbling notes down on loose leaf pieces of paper.

“Newcomer? Nah, we don’t know him. We only cover well-known faces - whoever this Lowdo person is, we don't know him, we ain’t coverin him...no I don’t wanna hear it, gimme a better name and then we’ll talk...fine, fine, I’ll see what the boss says, but don’t expect anything!”

When the phone slammed down and the man stood up, you tried to pull your attention away as Gina stopped at the empty desk, smiling towards you.

“Well, this is you. You’ll be across from David. He was the newest reporter before you,” She turned to David who was busy typing at his typewriter, not paying much attention to you as you sat your box of belongings down at the desk, “David, be good to her. It’s not everyday we get a lady around the journal.”

Before you could start getting your things out, you glanced over at Gina who seemed to linger. Raising an eyebrow, you felt her hands grab your arm, pulling you towards the back, “Before you get settled, I should probably let the boss know you’re here. He might have a story already lined up for you.”

You managed to snake your arm out of her grasp, trailing behind her as she went into the office first, the room filled heavily with smoke and the scent of cigars. Coughing, you waved the heavy smoke out of your face, shaking your head as you adjusted to the scent.

“Boss? It’s the new girl, she’s here.” Gina explained, stepping to the side to let you come in more. Standing beside Gina, your mouth twitched into a smile, looking ahead of you at your new boss - Hank Fezzold. He was a bigger gentleman, with a thick black mustache that drooped over his upper lip, his balding hair combed to one side, and a fat cigar hanging from his lips.

He seemed to take his time wrapping up with whatever it was he was doing. Finishing the cigar before crushing the rest of it into the ashtrap, clearing his throat and looking up at you and Gina.

“So, first day, huh?” You nodded and clasped your hands behind you, waiting for him to continue. He hummed in thought before looking at his desk, going through his papers, “Well, I imagine you know what the job entails? It’s not ethical, as I know you had mentioned in your interview, but it pays well and I think you can mind the code of ethics for a crisp bill, wouldn’t you say?”

You stifled a laughed and nodded, “I’m aware of the job, Mr. Fezzold - if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be here, would I?”

There was a moment of silence between the two of you, staring at one another before Gina finally stepped in, clearing her throat, “Well, Mr. Fezzold, if that’s all, I’m sure she’d like her story so she can get started, yes?”

Mr. Fezzold stared at you for a moment longer before finally nodding, “Yes, well, suppose you’re right, Gina. We are about to have our morning brief so you’ll get assigned a piece then, yes?”

You nodded once, mumbling a ‘yes sir’ before turning and heading out of the office, making your way back to your desk to get whatever you could out before the morning brief began.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

You weren’t sure what to expect exactly when the morning brief began. At your old job, things were relatively hectic, but at least there was order. The Racing Stripes lived up to their reputation - messy, unordered, and pure chaos.

Everyone was screaming over one another from their desks, holding up papers of notes that they had gathered to try and convince Mr. Fezzold why they should cover the story they came up with. You rubbed the bridge of your nose, groaning at how loud the room was, the walls of the garage echoing. Mr. Fezzold seemed to have enough as well, slamming his fist against the desk that he was seated at.

“Enough! Bloody Mary, with this eagerness just to get a story going, you’d think you’d already have it all covered! I don’t give a damn if it’s been covered already, just get the fucking content out and we will work from there. We don’t know a single thing about this season yet, so gather what we can get and we’ll decide from there.”

It was the man from earlier who raised his hand, the one that you overheard on the phone. When Mr. Fezzold nodded for him to speak, frustrated by his sudden politeness, the man stood up and cleared his throat.

“I got a call earlier today, Mr. Fezzold, someone going on about some newcomer from Austria, Niko Laudo? I think that’s his name...they think he’s going to be an important figure this season, want us to cover him. I told them that we don’t cover nobodies, Sir, but I said I’d let you know about it.”

The room erupted in laughs, thinking it was crazy for the man to even suggest it. You didn’t see what the big deal was - newcomers often had more stories than known ones since they’re new and still getting their story out. Nobody seemed to want to take the story, and you thought maybe - maybe, this could be your big break.

Standing up, you cleared your throat to gain everyone’s attention, although that didn’t seem to work. Everyone was still laughing and teasing the man who pitched the idea, saying that he should take it if he’s so obsessed with the man. You bit your tongue, hoping that maybe you’d get a brief second of silence to finally tell them that you would take it. But it never came.

Finally having enough, you sighed and took a deep breath, “HEY!” You yelled over the men, watching as they all fell in silence, mouths gaped at the sudden outburst that came from you. Sighing, you cleared your throat and adjusted your posture, standing up, “I’ll take it. In my experience, you get a fresh face and they’ll give you double the stories of what you’re already getting from a big shot. Whoever this Niko Laudo man is, I’m sure the guy is right, maybe he is going to make a name for himself.”

Mr. Fezzold leaned back in his chair, taking a long drag from his new cigar before exhaling the smoke from his nose. With the cigar in between his index and middle finger, he shook it at you, a smirk toying on his lips.

“You got guts kid, I’ll give you that. But you’re new to covering formula racing - that theory might work for the town paper that you used to work at, but here what people wanna read about is who they already know. You throw out a nobody and the paper might as well be just thrown in the trash.”

You could feel your lips curve into a frown, not sure what to say next. You wanted to prove that you could do it, but it seemed like Mr. Fezzold and the rest of The Racing Stripes Co. were stuck in their own ways. Until Mr. Fezzold surprised you and the rest of the reporters in the room.

“I tell you what. You wanna get your big break here? Fine, I’ll give this to you. Cover him throughout the season and if you’re right on him and your stories do well, I’ll think about keeping you around.”

You smiled weakly and nodded, thanking him before watching as he nodded back, standing up after crushing his cigar in the ashtray and clapping his hands.

“Okay ladies, come on! Season is starting and we got stories to cover. I don’t want to see anyone slacking or else you can kiss your jobs goodbye, you hear?”

Scrambling to get started, reporters began dialing numbers and attempting to set up interviews. They already were steps ahead of you since they were covering racers from the previous seasons. While they were getting interviews, you were only starting to figure out how to get in touch with this Niko Laudo person. As you searched through papers and notes that the man, who’s name you learned to be Ted, gave you - you realized quickly that maybe you were in over your head.

#to the end #niki lauda #niki lauda x reader #niki lauda x you #niki lauda imagine #niki lauda smut #rush #daniel brühl #daniel bruehl #daniel bruhl

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acciofanfics · 4 years

Text

Say Please (George Weasley x Reader) SMUT

Request: Any chance you could do one o f the weasley twins and a slytherin reader. From enemies to lovers with a nsfw

Pairing: George Weasley x FemReader

Warnings: Bad language words and smut

Word Count: 2567

A/N: So I hope this fits in with the request, the timeline is a little rushed. Also, I normally prefer Fred myself, but my partner in crime loves George so I figured I’d try writing for him 😂 -S

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Honestly, (Y/N) rarely caused much trouble. It might’ve come to a surprise to some of the close minded Gryffindors, but not all Slytherins lived to torment their class mates. In this particular moment she wondered how her house ended up with the poor reputation, because she would not be in detention if it hadn’t been for those annoying Weasley twins. She shot a glare over at... she thought it was George. “3 days. 3 days detention because of you and your brother! Could you have not at least waited until after class? I’m not sure what it is that warranted the abuse to begin with but no that wasn’t enough detention to?!”

Fred and George never thought too much about detention. They mostly didn’t get caught, but there were always a few hiccups and they’d learned the best way to deal was grin and bear it... it did suck that McGonagall was aware the punishment did little to deter them. It was her policy that they had to be separated during detention, she thought they had too much fun otherwise. Poor Fred... he was stuck in Snape’s classroom alone. Not that George much cared for the girl scolding him, “If it’s any consolation we weren’t even aiming for you. It’s hardly our fault you decided to sit next to that git Clark.”

As far as apologies went. That was a rotten one, but she supposed it did provide some comfort. If she were being frank, she didn’t really care for her desk mate either. He often snuck looks at her parchment and tried to correct her or offer his help to even the slightest mistake. It was so condescending, and he rarely knew what he talking about. She tried to imagine what it would like if he had been the one to open the exploding note. “Well, I guess that does clear some things up. Maybe you should work on your aim.”

“Well you can blame Fred on that, he’s the one with the bad aim.” George chuckled although he had to admit it wasn’t nearly as fun to pick on his slightly older brother when he wasn’t there to disagree with him.

“Well who’s the brains of the operation because it wasn’t the brightest plan to start with?”

Yeah, George definitely didn’t enjoy the company that much. She might’ve been pretty, but that seemed to be the only thing she had going for her. A sense of humor? Definitely not. An eye for genius? Clearly lacking. Sure the exploding note had been delivered to the wrong target and landed them all detention, but it got a great response. Lots of laughs. “Agree to disagree.”

“Well you don’t have to agree with me, I’m still right. You got a few kids to laugh, you missed your target, there’s no lasting effect really and had it been Clark who opened it you would’ve been spending detention with him for 3 days. Since you called him a git I’m guessing you three aren’t that close.” Her voice was so matter-of-fact, and so annoying. It also didn’t sit right with George that she might’ve gotten a few details right.

“Well what would be your brilliant plan?”

“Oh I don’t have one.” (Y/N) stopped her cleaning (no magic, because it was a punishment) and looked at George. He thought she was smiling for a split second, but upon further inspection it was definitely a smirk. “Of course I haven’t put any thought what so ever into it. I guarantee that I could come up with a better one though.”

The next day George cursed the fact he had detention again... it didn’t seem fair that it was only him that had to share it with (Y/N). When he asked Fred to go in his place, Fred told him the fact that he asked him to trade was proof enough he didn’t want to trade. Thankfully Professor McGonagall had a task for them that required a little more concentration and therefor less time he actually had to speak to the girl.

“I’ve done some thinking and I think I figured it out.”

George snickered at her thought. McGonagall had them grading first-years parchments. They should’ve definitely known the information already, but she left them an answer key just in case. “Well, I’d hope so. You’ve been looking at the answers for the past 30 minutes.”

She rolled her eyes, and didn’t bother looking up from the parchment. “Ha ha. I meant I figured out what I think would be a numerous prank for Clark.”

“Oh do tell...” George sighed, not at all interested, but willing to humor her all the same.

“I’ve spent an unfortunate amount of time with him, and I’d say he fancies himself more than anyone else. I’ve been paying a bit more attention, since our last conversation and I’ve noticed anytime he passes a mirror he checks his hair. I think you should do some sort of charm to mess with his hair. Even if it’s fixed relatively quickly he’ll be furious.”

Hmmm.... maybe? “What if it wasn’t a charm?”

“A potion might have a longer lasting effect... but how would you give it to him without him knowing something is up?”

“Maybe slip it in his drink?”

“He’d see it and none of us he likes enough to not suspect something and immediately know who it was.”

“Do you think it’d be possible to hide it in some sweets? Sign it from a secret admirer? He’s too arrogant to turn it down.”

George hadn’t meant to honestly give what she said too much thought and there he was:planning out a whole prank with the girl. Fred would feel so betrayed, until it worked at least. Maybe she wasn’t as bad as he originally thought, but he still didn’t know if he liked her that much. Plus she was probably all talk.

Finally it was day 3, the end of their torturous sentence. It couldn’t come fast enough, especially since they had to clean again. George had shared the information he’d gathered from (Y/N) with Fred and he was all in. As much as he hated that they didn’t think of it, a good joke was a good joke.

“So it might interest you to know that I’ve acquired most of the ingredients to brew a hair raising potion. I just need one more thing I can nab tomorrow.”

Wow. Honestly he hadn’t expected her to really go through with it, much less steal the ingredients. “We haven’t even gotten out of detention yet and you’re already trying to get back in. You’re gonna miss me, huh?”

“Oh come off it. If you and your brother want to help, I’m going to set up in the girls bathroom on the second floor tomorrow night after dinner.”

There would’ve been no problem with that plan whatsoever. Sneaking out hadn’t ever been a problem since Fred and George snagged the Marauder’s Map in their first year, and even though they’d given it to Harry they still had most of the secret passages memorized. No, the problem that Fred had landed himself an extra day of detention. It wasn’t a secret that Snape didn’t like them, but it seemed unlikely that Fred really had done NOTHING to provoke him. He honestly couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit annoyed at his twin for leaving him to walk into that bathroom alone...

“Where’s Fred? I thought you two did everything together?” (Y/N) teased as she pulled a cauldron out of one of the stalls and gathered all of her supplies around the surrounding area. George was just a bit surprised that she actually recognized it was him. They’d tricked their own mother more than once, and she’d caught on in 3 days time?

“You know Snape, he’s got it out for us. Fred took the brunt of it today,” George shrugged and drew closer to her, ready to offer his assistance. “Look on the bright side, now you have me all to yourself.”

“Yay...” Her voice was less than enthusiastic, but a small smile played on her lips none the less. “Well don’t just stand there, hand me those rat tails.”

George had to admit that it wasn’t nearly as bad as he imagined. While, he was starting to come to the conclusion he might’ve misjudged her, he was now sure that was the case. He’d even gotten her to laugh! Surprisingly it was a good laugh too, one of the ones that were highly contagious. Brewing the potion didn’t take nearly as much time as he thought, and it wasn’t long at all before (Y/N) was giving it a final stir. “Now it just has to set for about an hour. I suppose after that we just need to put it in some candy and give it to him?”

“Seems simple enough, once we figure out the best place to leave it that will make sure he gets it.”

“I’ll leave it outside his room.” (Y/N) stated simply. It only made sense that she would, she was in the same house and the magical enchantments that the school was founded had a pretty backwards, but beneficial rule on the dorms. Girls could get into the boys dormitory quite easily, so I’d wouldn’t be a problem.

George couldn’t place it, but he didn’t know how thrilled he was with that part of the plan. There were other ways: like leaving it on a table in the great hall... or visiting the owlery? “What if you get caught?”

“I suppose I’m no stranger to detention now, am I? Don’t worry I don’t plan on letting you guys take credit for my brilliance, I won’t snitch.”

“It wasn’t that!” He didn’t know why it was so important she didn’t think he was worried about that, but it seemed like it was relevant in that moment.

(Y/N)’s smirk came back when she saw his cheeks turning just the slightest tint of red. She wouldn’t admit it to anyone else, but there was the possibility she didn’t hate the twins as much as she did when she first opened that blasted note. Well, George at least (she hadn’t been forced to spend time with Fred). And it wasn’t like she was blind, he was attractive. Plus she hadn’t even planned any payback for him ruining her reputation in McGonagall’s class... it wouldn’t hurt to tease him just a bit. Really, he kind of deserved it. “We have an hour to kill... I wonder what we should do?”

George tensed ever so slightly when she leaned closer to him and batted her eye lashes. She was definitely on to him. Damn, well he wasn’t usually one to back down from a challenge. Usually he had his brother for backup, but that wouldn’t do him any good here and honestly he no longer desired to have Fred’s company... at least at the moment. “Well, I have a few ideas... we are alone.”

(Y/N)’s confidence didn’t waver, she expected a bit of stubbornness from him. Instead she climbed into his lap, her knees resting not so comfortably on the cool tile. Her forwardness seemed to catch him off guard slightly, but he quickly regained composure and smirked at her. It took a good bit of effort not to roll her eyes, but she managed. “Well don’t just sit there.”

George knew he was falling into a trap, but to be honest at that moment he didn’t quite care. He didn’t need to be told twice and he captured her lips in a lip bruising kiss. It was almost instantaneous that they both seemed to forget they they didn’t fancy either other. Her arms wrapped around his neck and his hands found her thighs, where he began to pull her against him.

It took no time for a sweet kiss to start burning into something more. No, it was more like someone throwing a match into gasoline: an immediate explosion. Her hips moved willingly against him, both enjoying the friction and she didn’t even think twice about George snapping open the buttons on her blouse. It gave her the idea to start on his shirt.

(Y/N) shivered when George helped her out of her bra. The cool air making her arch herself into him even further, but the cold didn’t last long because George began placing feverish kisses all over the newly exposed skin. Her moans definitely did something for him, even if it was just a confidence boost he nipped a bit harder or his grip on her skin got tighter. Normally, George might worry about leaving a hand shaped bruise on her arse, but he was far too focused and seeing how loud he could make her.

(Y/N) awkwardly reached between them and started to undo his trousers. George was willing to pull his hands away from her briefly to help her accomplish her goal. She leaned up, just enough for him to be able to wiggle his trousers and underwear down enough to free his erection. It wasn’t the most graceful thing they’d done, but she hiked up her skirt and pulled her panties to the side so she could sink down onto him.

The two let out a moan in unison and George grabbed hold of her hips, “Bloody hell...”

(Y/N) wasn’t sure what exactly came over her, other than a mixture of satisfaction and lust. “Say you’re sorry for getting me detention.”

Was she kidding? “Seriously?” When she started to lift herself up, he quickly changed his tune. “I’m sorry!”

She quickly dropped herself back down, earning another moan from the redhead underneath her. Of course having his cock buried deep inside her felt amazing, but having a bit of control made it feel even better. “Say please.”

George didn’t even think twice about obliging her order. The word spilled from his lips before he could even comprehend what he was saying, but he didn’t care. The plea made her move against him finally and he would say anything to keep her bouncing on his cock. Clearly she knew it too and that was enough to keep her satisfied because she kept it up.

It was somewhere between an eternity and a few minutes, before she felt herself getting close. It was harder to keep it up her rhythm, and George must’ve noticed because he started to use the grip on her hips to his advantage by lifting her and pulling her back down. She stopped abruptly, “If you want something from me, you need to ask.”

“Please?”

“Please what?” (Y/N) purred into his ears, rolling her hips.

“Please let me fuck you...” George’s voice was needy and he was so scared that she would tell him no. It was an instant relief when she muttered an okay against his skin.

Before (Y/N) could even register what was happening her back hit the frigid tile and George’s hips were snapping against hers hard and fast and she was seeing stars. So close... so close... she was coming undone. “George!”

It was no time, before he finished. Her orgasm fast-tracking his. He had to let his breathing steady before he could speak, “I think that should be a regular occurrence. We are way too good for it to be a one time thing.”

He laughed when she winked at him, “Well you know what to say.”

#harry potter imagine #fanfics #george weasley #george weasley imagine #harry potter smut #george wealsey x reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x you #george weasley smut #request

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some-dr-writings · 3 years

Text

Fuyuhiko x Reader who won’t confess

· Of all people you could have fallen for, why did it have t be the YAKUZA BOSS!? He has a bad temper on top of that! What if you tried asking him out and he was insulted by it so he had you killed!? Nope! No! You couldn’t do it! You were way too scared! It would be best you ignore the feelings…

· …

· But how could you!? Sure, he was a hot head, but he was a good guy, kind and loyal to his friends. It didn’t help either that you saw each other every day because you were in the same class. It also REALLY didn’t help that your best friend there was Peko, her and Fuyuhiko never spent much time together but the few times they did they seems to be good friends, and Peko seemed to know a lot about Fuyuhiko, so the pair of you would end up talking about him and your crush on him often.

· “I understand your apprehension, but you can try talking to him more, nothing has happened to our other classmates who have gotten close to him.” “Peko. Gurl. I am the Super High School Level Crime Boss. I may be bold and cunning, but I’m not going to approach the heir of the biggest and greatest crime syndicate in Japan with something like this. I could go with the excuse we are both great powers and should be on amicable terms so we don’t slaughter one another, but that would be a lie, and we don’t lie in my family.” “… Would it be a lie to say you wanted to get to know him because you like him, and he is your classmate?” “… Hmm… perhaps. Even so, I don’t need others on looking, possibly seeing us getting chummy and taking that as a threat.”

· You didn’t avoid the man per se, but you did try to spend as little time with him as possible, fearful of him asking something in just the right way where you couldn’t dance around it and would have to confess. The few times you did get to spend time together was rather nice.

· The wind rolled past carrying bright green leaves along with it, a much-needed break from the heat that came pouring down from the cloudless sky. You sighed, taking a sip of your cold drink. With the condensation on the glass, it slipped in your hands for a moment, almost spilling into your lap. You and Peko chatted away at the balcony of the café, loving the summer day. You sighed noticing Fuyuhiko from the corner of your eye. You had figured out long ago that Peko was Fuyuhiko’s secret bodyguard, the man always was near by whenever the pair of you spent time together outside of school. He was even generous and kind to his subordinates letting them live life outside of his syndicate. It truly kind man.

· “Hmm, oh, Kuzuruyu, hello.” “Huh?” “What?” Clearly both you and the man were caught off guard, it evident on your faces. “What are you doing here?” “Uh… Well, this place just opened but I’ve heard nothing but good things, so I decided to check it out.” “Same with us. Say why don’t you join us?” You spat out your drink, choking on it mid-sip hearing the suggestion, thankfully for the heir who only would have gotten flustered if you had noticed the bright scarlet that had erupted on his cheeks when he approached you and Peko. “Y/N!?” “I’ll get some more napkins.” Peko immediately dashed off, leaving Fuyuhiko with you. You were still coughing, covering your face with napkins, embarrassed by the whole situation and not wanting your crush to see you like this. Nervously Fuyuhiko pat your back, feeling too awkward to do much else. When you settled down you were completely embarrassed but tried to remain calm and let the staff clean the table. “You okay?” “Physically, yes. Emotionally, no, I am a wreak right now.” “Ah.” …

· …

· Thankfully for the awkwardness neither of you tried to make idle chit-chat allowing you to notice… something. “Since the staff are taking care of things let’s look for Peko.” “Yeah.” Instead, you both immediately left the premises. Your suspicion was confirmed, you were being followed. At the first opportunity you raced to anything you could use for a quick getaway, a motorcycle this time. Mentally you apologized to the couple and made sure make a note to repay them with a new motorbike later as you slammed a helmet on Fuyuhiko’s head, dashing away on the bike.

· “Sorry for getting you caught up in this. I recognize the bastard, some assassin who’s like a cockroach, won’t just die no matter how much lead I pump into em’!” A bang sounded, a gun having been fired, the bullet landing right beside the tire sending a few sparks flying. “A cockroach. I’ve dealt with the likes before. Focus on driving, I’ll take care of them.” “Alright. Let’s see how good of a shot you are!” A chuckle seeped out of you, the thrill of the chase always something you couldn’t help but enjoy no matter the danger. With a rev of the engine you took a sharp turn, turning around, leaving skid marks on the pavement as you did so before charging head on for the car behind you. Fuyuhiko blew out a tire as you raced past. “Only two in the car, usually has at least ten assistants. Don’t let your guard down!” “Wasn’t going too. This isn’t my first assassination plot.” “Except you’re a bystander who got dragged in this time, so at least you aren’t the primary target.”

· Fuyuhiko kept up carefully aimed fire, only having so-many bullets, but you though trying to escape and dodge fire you also specifically made opportunities for Fuyuhiko to get good shots in on any attackers.

· “Fuck! Gun’s jammed!” “OF COURSE!” Fuyuhiko kept muttering swears under his breath desperately trying to get the damn thing to work again. You looked over your shoulder for a moment, finding Fuyuhiko opted the hurl the junk at the car, cracking the windshield right on the driver’s side. “Hah! Nice one.” “Don’t celebrate just yet. We’re out of fire now.” “Hell no! We could die at any moment, so we’ve gotta celebrate when we can!” You laughed, speeding away as the car behind you wavered, almost crashing. Still though it made chase. Now it was completely up to you to keep you both alive. Taking a sharp turn off the street you instead raced down an alleyway in between buildings. You smiled seeing where you were. “Take in that ocean air Kuzuryu! We’re almost home free!” “Home free you say? Alright, show me what you’ve got!”

· “There’s more assassins!” “Got it.” Unfortunately the streets by the sea side were much narrower than deeper in the city so dodging was near impossible, all you could do was weave between cars and hope for the best.

· “Kuzu, Hold on tight!” You dashed through traffic, turning into the opposite lane and cutting across it, slipping between spaces in the railing. Unfortunately, the hill beyond the railing was a bit steeper than you remembered, the pair of you being in the air for a while before crashing down, wavering too much you could only keep balance for a few moments before flipping over.

· “Hey. Hey, Y/N!” You groaned, slowly getting up, your head ringing and the world swirling and spinning. “Y-you alright?” “For now, but we need to go!” Taking your arm he pulled you up and ran along. The motorcycle left deep marks in the ground, signaling where it crashed, pointing out where you were. “Just gotta get to the docks. We’ll be safe there.” “Got it!”

· Quickly the pair of you ran along, hiding behind anything you could, from shrubbery to beach umbrellas, the gun fire raining down around you. However for a short time it did suddenly come to a stop. “Peko!” Indeed it was the swords woman, putting a stop to the attacks as long as she could.

· “Young Master!” Finally you had reunited on the docks. Not stopping for even a moment you raced for a building, kicking the door down upon entering. “Get in the seaplane, now!” The moment your companions were in, you started the engine, immediately going not even giving them the opportunity to strap in.

· You were surrounded by nothing but blue. Blue skys, blue water, not another plane or boat in sight. You let out a shaky breath, shuttering. “Holy hell, I have not had a chase like that in a while! You two okay? If not there’s a first aid kit under my seat. If you have any serious injuries we’ll have to land and do work on the wing of the plane. But if it can wait for an hour or so we can take care of it on the island.” It was a rather small plane, just for personal use so there was little room, only enough for four seats to be squished against to one another. “I’m fine. Peko-” “I am unharmed. However, you have several cuts.” “Y/N, you’ve been shot!” You gritted your teeth, instead focusing on piloting. “Maybe… but it can wait.” “No! You’re landing this thing right now!” “Kuzuryu! The island has much better supplies for this, and though I know there are no other sea planes in the docks they could have them hidden elsewhere and I want minimal risk of them finding us and my private hideaway. So we have to out run them” “… Fine, but we’re using the first aid kit on you.”

· You winced as Peko and Fuyuhiko tried patching the wound as best they could. The bullet didn’t get in too deeply but the longer your flight went on the more that fiery pain seeped into you, it no longer being ignorable as your adrenaline lowered and slowed. You could feel our heart pounding against your rib cage, your breathing getting heavier. “Y/N, you’re pale.” “I-I’m fine.” “Like Hell you are! Don’t pull that bull shit with me!” “I can fly this thing, if I can keep doing that I’m fine. It… it’s not too much farther now.”

· …

· You were in the cabin. “A-aunty, Uncle.” You smiled, knowing you had arrived at the island safely seeing the elderly pair. “Wh-where’s my guests? How are they?” The woman simply gestured to the wide open doors leading to your tropical paradise, the sand and ocean waves so close, Fuyuhiko and Peko standing in the frame. Fuyuhiko had a few bandages but seemed fine. Both of them looked relived. “Boss shall we leave you with your guests?” “Yeah, but before you go, how long till I’m healed?” “You may get up now.” You looked questioningly to the older gentleman. “We sedated you with sleeping drugs this time so you would not have to just lie in bed and constantly sneak out instead of resting for your health.” “H-hey! I’m not that reckless!” “Boss, you had three bullet wounds.” You simply shriveled in your bed. “I-I needed to check on everyone else myself. Too many got injured that time. Those basters needed to pay.” “And you can not risk your health when doing so, Boss.” “… Thank you, Uncle. You and Aunty prepare some food for us.” In unison the elderly folk said ‘Yes, boss’ heeding your command and making their leave. “I shall assist.” And Peko left with them. Slowly you sat up, getting out of bed. “Well… care for a walk? I feel rather sluggish from having slept for several days at least apparently.” “Sure.”

· Even if you would regret it later, you could safely spend time with the man now, knowing none other than Peko where here to protect him and heed his command. Just this once you could get a little closer without fear, and more importantly, learn exactly how bad his injuries were.

· You took the chance to explain to Fuyuhiko just who exactly your assailants were, how they were actually an organization made by rogue government officials who wanted you dead no matter the consequences. How this island was your personal place you only allowed the most trusted of family members in your organization to go to, or those injured should this place be the most convenient, how you ‘Aunty’ and ‘Uncle’ were individuals who had worked in your organization since you first created it and were like family though not actually being blood related to you or even married to one another. And… you just kept talking like how you found this island and made it your home away from home, about school and your classmates. You both just talked about whatever through the day.

· And soon there you were sitting on the sandy shore, looking up to the starlit sky. “Really? I don’t believe it.” “No, I really did crash the car there.” “You call the assassins cockroaches, but that more so describes you.” “What!?” Fuyuhiko couldn’t help but chuckle a little seeing your reaction. “Yeah, surviving car crashes, being shot through the chest, poisoning, now a motorcycle crash. Seems you’re unkillable.” “Excuse me, but all of those were calculated risks!” “Exactly. Even in crazy situations you can keep calm and take the less disastrous outcome…” His smile faded, a more serious expression taking on his features. “Y’know… When I step up as the leader of the Kuzuryu clan, I’ll need someone strong, and capable by my side… maybe… someone like you.” “……… Are you… confessing, or am I horribly misreading this.” Fuyuhiko froze, a blush flaring up on his cheeks. “Well, I think we worked rather well together today so… W-wanna go out?” “Yes! Absolutely yes!” “O-oh… alright then.” Clearing his throat he stood up. “Well… it’s getting late, I’m shoving off to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow… maybe you could give me a run of the grounds here?” “Yeah, definitely!” “Good… I’m looking forward to it.”

· “Oh my god, Peko, I finally asked them out! And they said ‘Yes’!” “Good for you, Young Master.” “I didn’t even hesitate! I know you said they it would be safe since nothing had happened to our other classmates, but… they’re still the Boss of the greatest crime syndicate over seas! This could have gone horribly and I just did it! I didn’t even use the excuse we should be on good terms or allies, so we don’t kill each other. I just asked them out!”

· Even if Peko’s plan didn’t go quite as she thought it would it still worked out. Her duty is to protect her young master, so it would not do for him to kill himself due to stressing over asking his crush out. She already knew things were going to turn out great for the pair of you. You were so alike and so drastically different you just complimented one another perfectly.

#fuyuhiko kuzuryu #fuyuhiko x reader #Mod Gundham #danganronpa #danganronpa 2 #danganronpa2 #Super Danganronpa 2 #danganronpa imagine #danganronpa imagines #danganronpa 2 imagine #danganronpa 2 imagines #dr imagine #dr imagines #dr 2 imagine #dr 2 imagines #danganronpa x reader #peko pekoyama

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dudeandduchess · 4 years

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Kyōjurō x F!S/O: We and Us (Fluff, Time Travel AU, SFW Scenario)

Summary: (Y/n) takes a vacation to Japan with her best friend and prays to meet her soulmate, only fate gives her a mile instead of an inch and she meets Rengoku Kyōjurō— the Flame Hashira in the manga that she had been reading. Right before his last mission, no less, so it’s up to her to save him.

Note: This is a mix of an isekai, soulmate, and time travel AU. I’ll try to explain things as best as I can within the story, but please take everything at face value. But if y’all have questions, please let me know. Enjoy, bbys!

(Y/n) will be the usual, but (F/n) will stand for Friend’s Name.

Also, a HUGE thank you to Biz for helping me out so much with this. Like seriously. I’ve hit so many blunders with writing this one out.

Warning: Mild Angst with Happy Ending, Manga/Movie Spoilers, Language

Word Count: 11,007

***

It was the same dream again; the very same one that had kept on plaguing (Y/n) ever since she had landed in Tokyo with her best friend.

She had only ever seen the scene in the Kimetsu no Yaiba manga, but it all looked so vivid in her mind. Too vivid, in fact, that it had unsettled her enough to have her sitting up in the double bed in the hotel room, that she and (F/n) shared.

For the third night in a row, the dream— no, the nightmare— had managed to reduce her to tears again.

Maybe she was crazy for feeling so much for someone who wasn’t real, but she couldn’t help her reaction. When she had opened her eyes, her face was already wet with tears— and no matter how hard she tried to wipe them away, they wouldn’t cease falling.

And, for once, she wanted to wake (F/n) up so she could get one of her comforting hugs— but she didn’t want to put a damper on such a momentous vacation for them. After all, they had saved up so much money just to afford going to Tokyo in the first place.

She wouldn’t ruin the next day with something that would fade away into nothingness later on.

But she would be lying if she said that it didn’t hurt to watch Rengoku Kyōjurō die over and over again— even if it was only in her dreams.

All she could do, however, was lay back down and curl into a ball to clutch one of her pillows close to her chest; burrowing her face into the fresh-smelling linen and trying to will away the haunting images that kept playing in her mind.

Her heart felt like it was breaking a million times over, yet she couldn’t exactly explain why that was. So, she closed her eyes and started counting— if only to get her racing mind to calm down.

Thankfully, sleep finally caught up to her; albeit restless and unfulfilling.

‘Don’t worry about me dying here.’

***

“You seem really off today, is something wrong, (Y/n)?” (F/n) asked as she nudged her best friend with her elbow, sending the other woman jumping a little in surprise; as if she had been suddenly shaken from some deep and all-consuming thought.

In response, (Y/n) forced a smile on her face and shook her head. She really did feel so drained, especially with a constant heaviness weighing down on her shoulders. Especially when she had stepped onto the small tram that would lead them to Setagaya; it was as if her chest had gotten so tight at some unknown factor that plagued her every waking move.

Not even the pretty hydrangeas that lined either side of the tracks were enough to make her feel better. And it felt like such a waste to be there, as the hydrangeas were what she had wanted to see the most.

“I just had a really weird dream last night. It was of Kyō dying…” (Y/n) admitted with a slight huff of a laugh, trying to make light of the situation with some humor— but she couldn’t say anything more as she felt her best friend’s arms wrap around her tightly.

(Y/n) had to admit that it was a little surprising, but she wasn’t entirely opposed to it; as it felt so warm and comforting, especially with the light drizzle of rain outside making the world look dreary and cold.

And slowly, she found herself grinning as she tried to push (F/n) off; before bursting out into a tiny fit of giggles when the arms around her only got tighter.

“Okay, okay, I feel better now. You can let go of me.”

With a laugh, (F/n) stepped back and patted the top of (Y/n)’s head, making the latter curl her upper lip at how playfully condescending that was. But it did its job in taking her mind off of her nightmare, which was all that mattered.

And so, with much a brighter mood, (Y/n) looked out of the tram window and giddily waited for their stop— so she could get a feel of what Kyōjurō’s hometown would have been like. After all, the databook had mentioned him living in Setagaya; so it was ticking off two nocks in one move, with her hydrangea sightseeing, as well as touring Setagaya.

When they got to their station, both women wasted no time in walking to the nearby temple— Tsurumaki Jisso-in. It was a really quaint place, but it felt so tranquil to step into; as if they were being transported through time.

Every step that (Y/n) took, she could feel her emotions beginning to bubble to the surface— feeling so light and heavy at the same time, like some part of her was being welcomed back to the place.

But that wasn’t the most unsettling instance for her; that was when she was deep in prayer already— thanking the gods for bringing her to Japan with her best friend, and for giving her such good fortune up to that day.

After all, she knew that she was luckier than most for just having the opportunity to have a roof above her head and three (or more) meals a day. Let alone the fact that she could have saved up to afford a very expensive trip.

If that wasn’t worth thanking the gods for, then she didn’t know what was.

“All I’m asking for now… is someone to spend the rest of my life with. Someone who’s the other half of my soul…” She prayed under her breath, bowing her head even further as a sign of humility, before adding, “Someone who will love me wholeheartedly forever.”

Shivers raced up her spine as soon as she uttered her wish, with some unseen force beckoning her to look up. And when she gave in to the urge to do so, the sight of a blond waiting a few paces away from her— with his hand stretched out towards her— made her absolutely breathless.

The vision didn’t last more than a couple of seconds, but she was sure that she just saw Rengoku Kyōjurō in front of her.

“It can’t be. I’m going crazy,” The young woman whispered to herself; bowing down once more, before strolling off to the side to admire the little stone statues that dotted the vicinity.

However, the heavy feeling on her shoulders had returned along with a headache. So, she decided that a short stroll around the area would do her some good.

With one last look behind her— to see that (F/n) was still engrossed in whatever prayer she had— (Y/n) deigned to just send her a text to let her know that she was going for a walk before finally taking the first few steps to get her around the place.

She couldn’t even hear the buzz of the town around them. No horns, or car engines, or even the sound of people filled the gaps of silence between the short gusts of wind that rustled the leaves of the plants around her.

If she were to be honest, she would say that it was relaxing; enough for a nap, even.

But she couldn’t do that when she and (F/n) still had so many places to go for the rest of the day. And, figuring that she’d been gone for long enough, she circled back to the pagoda— where, lo and behold, her best friend was nowhere to be found.

“I told her to wait for me here, tsk,” She uttered under her breath, huffing a little as she tried to fight back the heaviness and the headache that were only getting worse. “(F/n), you dumbass.”

She must have circled the entire vicinity of the temple thrice already, but her best friend was still nowhere to be found. And, around the second time that she had gotten back to the pagoda, she had pulled her phone out to call her— only to curse under her breath when she saw that it was dead.

It wouldn’t have been a problem at all, since she had her backpack with her— but when she checked the contents of it, she didn’t find the power bank that she was sure that she had packed in there that morning.

So, she circled the area once more— getting more frustrated at the pseudo cat and mouse game that she assumed (F/n) was playing with her— until she decided to check outside the temple gates.

Only, she couldn’t quite believe her eyes when an entirely different scene greeted her.

Instead of the asphalt road that she had walked on earlier, there was only a dirt road; which had her chest tightening with panic. Because she couldn’t have been on one of those prank shows she always watched.

But that was the only answer that she was coming up with, as her eyes took in the sight of the busy road in front of her. People were even wearing much older clothes; as opposed to the jeans, button down, and ankle boots combo that she was wearing.

“No, I swear to everything holy… (F/n), if you signed me up for a prank…” She hissed under her breath, swallowing thickly as she frantically looked at all of the people who were going on about their day.

A few gazes were aimed at her, but no one dared to approach her. And it wasn’t like she could simply stroll up to someone and ask them what had happened to the road— because, as it was, she only knew the basics of basic Japanese.

She would sooner make a mistake and ask someone where a gong was, instead of where the road had gone.

It was also at that moment that she realized that she shouldn’t have goofed off while learning Japanese; instead of telling (F/n) that she sucks tiny dicks, she could have used that time to learn some more useful sentences.

Panic was steadily beginning to set in, causing tears to spring up in her eyes as she clutched her useless phone in one hand. She couldn’t even muster up the strength to move from where she stood— the need to cry getting stronger with every passing second.

(Y/n) swore that she would wring her best friend’s neck if all of that ended up as a really unfunny prank. But it seemed that it wasn’t a prank at all, as no one yelled ‘cut’ and not one camera person stepped out to capture the sight of her tears beginning to fall down her face.

Slowly, her panic began to really set in, as she gripped her phone even tighter in her hand— pushing herself to turn on her heel to march back into the temple and try to look for (F/n) in every shrub possible; only, the breath was knocked out of her when she ran smack dab into something.

Or rather, someone.

Red-tinted irises flickered down at the peculiar woman, lingering on her tear-stained face, before they took in the strange clothes that she was wearing.

The strange woman’s clothes weren’t what had the Flame Hashira’s curiosity piquing, however…

It was when her eyes widened with what seemed like fear and genuine shock, before she whispered, “Kyōjurō?”

All that, before promptly passing out— thankfully, in his arms. Otherwise, she would have suffered a painful bump to the head.

“Ani-ue? Do you know her?” Kyōjurō readjusted his hold on the woman in his arms, then looked down at his side to answer his brother with a smile.

“I don’t, Senjurō, but she knows me.”

“What are we going to do?”

“Take her home,” The Hashira’s answer sounded so simple, as if it didn’t have to do with taking a virtual stranger home— one that looked so weird, with a glossy and flat brick at her feet. Because really, his curiosity was extremely piqued; especially with how he felt his heart skip a beat when she mentioned his name.

He wanted to know why exactly that was, when he had never felt something so… unexplainably warm and pleasant in his entire life.

As if he had just begun to really live.

***

“Is she awake yet?” Kyōjurō asked as he slid the shoji open and poked his head inside the guest room. He had been training beforehand, but had practically breezed through the rest of his shadow sparring routines because his curiosity got the better of him.

All throughout the afternoon, he couldn’t quite get his mind off of the strange woman who was sleeping in his home; and it wasn’t even the fact that she knew him that baffled him.

It was how he felt so attached to her already— as if, by some invisible force, something tethered him to her.

And that was how he found himself padding through the house; pacing up and down the halls at first, weighing the merits of seeing her already— without washing all of the sweat off of him first— as opposed to just making a beeline for her room and checking up on her.

However, he went with the former choice: bathing first, before going to see her. After all, he wanted to make a good impression, and he couldn’t do that when he smelled like the sun and lots of sweat.

“Not yet, ani-ue,” Senjurō answered softly, sending his older brother a smile, before reaching up to feel the unknown woman’s forehead with the palm of his hand.

She didn’t have a fever, but she was still unconscious, which worried the younger Rengoku a lot. He may not have known her, but he was so naturally kindhearted that he didn’t want anyone getting hurt— especially when they were under his care.

Kyōjurō sighed quietly— more out of disappointment than anything else— as he padded into the room; closing the door behind him, as he let his gaze fall to the unconscious woman on the futon.

And that was when the foreign feeling of his stomach feeling so empty yet full at the same time— as his heart began to pound faster in his chest— fell on him. He barely even managed to restrain the urge to reach up and rub at the spot where his heart was.

Though, slowly, he walked towards her and sat down next to where his brother sat— not once looking at anywhere but her and her sleeping face.

Kyōjurō had to admit that she was quite beautiful, even with that slight furrow in her brows. But, before he could stop himself, he reached out and gently smoothed the crease down with the pads of his fingers.

Unbeknownst to him, a small and warm smile had tugged up at the corners of his lips; which had Senjurō looking between the Flame Hashira and the stranger.

He didn’t want to make assumptions, but he could feel that there was something divine at play with their situation. Especially since the woman looked like she didn’t belong in their country, nor did she belong in their time.

It wasn’t until night had fallen that the brothers saw her stir awake, and they immediately waited with baited breath for her to open her eyes. But when she did open them, they immediately widened as she bolted upright on the futon— scooting away from the Rengokus and dragging the blanket closer towards her chest.

As if that would protect her from a Hashira.

“I have to be dreaming,” (Y/n) whispered frantically, curling her fingers around the blanket and bringing it up to shield her face from the pair in front of her; then brought it back down after a few seconds, to check if they were still there.

Lo and behold, Kyōjurō and Senjurō were still looking at her; which prompted her to do it twice more, until the older of the two tugged the blanket out of her hands and scooted closer to her.

(Y/n) wanted nothing more than to scream at that moment— both with fear and various other overwhelming emotions— but she bit down on her tongue and held it in. On the off chance that it was all some elaborate prank, she didn’t want to make even more of a fool of herself.

“Your name,” Kyōjurō began, letting his curiosity get the better of him as he gave in and jumped into interrogating her already. After all, he had been waiting all afternoon for her to wake up. “What’s your name?”

Hell, he had even pushed back the time for his nightly patrols in case she woke up. Because he wanted to be there when she opened those breathtaking eyes of hers; ones that widened in surprise at his question.

Thankfully, (Y/n) caught his words with very little difficulty.

“(Y/n)…” The young woman breathed out, completely enamored by how close those fiery eyes were to her face. She had only seen them in her dreams, and to have them look so real… it was a dream come true; even if she was sure that she was only hallucinating.

Since there was no way that a manga character could be real.

“I… I mean… (L/n) (Y/n),” She stammered out in the choppiest-sounding Japanese that she had ever uttered. It was even worse than when she had asked someone for directions in the street the day before; making her want to snatch the blanket back and hide under it until the burning in her cheeks subsided.

“(L/n) (Y/n),” Kyōjurō whispered under his breath, feeling his lips tingle as a smile tugged up at the corners of his lips— for some unknown reason. The name was so foreign on his tongue, and he had pronounced it differently than she had, but it still had his heart fluttering inside his chest. “Earlier, you mentioned my name. How do you know me?”

That had all of (Y/n)’s thoughts coming to a standstill inside her head, stumping her until she could feel her right eye twitching with her discomfort. After all, she couldn’t very well tell him that he was a fictional character in a manga— one that she cared for immensely.

But she also knew that she wouldn’t be able to explain why she was there in the first place, if she lied to him. That, and something told her that Kyōjurō would willingly hear her out, and even accept what she was going to say.

He would be a little skeptical about it, but she knew as much as he did that no one would be able to explain exactly what had happened.

So, to the best of her ability, she wracked her brain for all of the Japanese words that she had learned, and began to explain in choppy sentences. “I’m not from here. I’m from the future… and this is a manga.”

The Hashira’s eyebrows furrowed at that, and he was about to open his mouth to speak, when Senjurō reached out to lay a hand on his forearm.

“Maybe we should hear her out first, ani-ue?”

Those words prompted Kyōjurō to look over at Senjurō, before scooting back to sit next to his brother, and letting go of the blanket that he had unceremoniously snatched from their guest. Part of him had his defenses raised, and wanted nothing more than to get things over with— but another, much bigger part, had him wanting to sit there and listen to what she had to say.

All night long, if he had the leisure of doing so.

And so, with her choppy Japanese, (Y/n) went on to tell the Rengoku brothers everything that had happened since she had arrived at the temple in Setagaya, and everything that happened between that and fainting in his arms; with the last bit making her blush profusely, while she looked away.

Surprisingly, Kyōjurō found the flustered expression cute on her… but what threw the young man even more for a loop was his reaction: stifling a smile, as his cheeks also warmed up with a blush identical to hers.

Never in his life had he been flustered like that; which was made even more intense with the butterflies fluttering around inside his stomach. It was a foreign feeling, but something that he welcomed… because it was something nice and warm.

Something that he knew he had been missing all along.

“And that’s how I ended up here. I was just looking for my friend...” (Y/n) implored softly, letting her gaze flicker between the two blonds in front of her. “Do you believe me?”

She then waited with baited breath for Kyōjurō’s answer, staring intently at him, and sighing when he minutely nodded his head. “Parts of your story explain things, so I’ll believe you… for now.”

“Okay. Okay, I’ll take that.” (Y/n) smiled at him, feeling extremely comfortable under his gaze for once— only to feel her breath catch in her throat when the Hashira returned it with a much brighter one than hers.

If he kept smiling at her like that, she might just traverse time and space again— what with how surreal it looked.

Both of them seemed to be stuck at a standstill then, with their eyes not once flickering away from the other— as their smiles tapered down into smaller ones.

All the while, Senjurō could only look on with a hint of a smile tugging up on his cheeks; because he had never seen his brother ever look so interested in a woman before. And maybe, just maybe, he’d finally found the one who was going to take care of his heart.

“Ani-ue, I think it’s time for your patrols now,” The younger Rengoku began with a mirthful tone, popping the invisible bubble that ensconced the pair with him.

That had the Hashira sitting upright even more, shoulders stiffening as he picked his sword up from beside him and immediately got up. He had completely forgotten that he had to do a patrol of the area, just so everyone under his jurisdiction could stay safe.

However, he felt a little reluctant to leave his guest just like that.

“Let’s talk more tomorrow, (L/n)-san,” He bid then, biting down unsurely on his bottom lip when he realized just how forward he sounded— but not doing anything to retract the statement.

Because he had to admit, he wanted to talk to her more; get to know her. All of her.

To his utter shock— and pleasure— he saw the young woman nod at him, before uttering words that had his heart practically jumping out of his chest and gracing all of them with its presence.

“Stay safe, Kyōjurō… I mean, Rengoku-san.”

It was safe to say that all throughout his patrol, Kyōjurō’s mind always drifted back to the intriguing woman that had literally and figuratively fallen into his arms.

***

When morning finally came, it was to hear nothing but tranquil silence within the Rengoku household. There was the telltale chirping of birds outside, and the soft din of people chattering as they passed by the house— but it seemed that everyone was still asleep within the estate itself.

But (Y/n) was proven wrong when she heard three soft knocks outside of her room. “(L/n)-san? Are you awake?”

It was Senjurō, to whom she answered that she was awake and that she could come in— in the most chipper voice possible. She couldn’t help it, there was just something about the youngest Rengoku that made her all smiley and happy; like he was a bright ray of light in a dark and dreary world.

Much like how Kyōjurō was.

“Good morning, Senjurō-kun,” She greeted with a smile, quietly taking note of the change of clothes that was in his arms. They looked extremely nice; red, with black and gold embroidery, from her vantage point.

“Ani-ue got these for you earlier this morning… as soon as the shop opened,” Senjurō admitted with a soft, and teasing, smile; one that had (Y/n)’s cheeks flaring red at how sweet the gesture was, and how she just knew that a little boy was poking fun at her for making it so obvious that she liked his older brother.

Because, really, from how she had made moony eyes at him last night— there was no denying that Senjurō knew just how attracted she really was to Kyōjurō.

Thankfully, the younger Rengoku didn’t push his teasing more than that— opting instead to hand her the clothes, so she could get ready for the day.

It had taken a while for her to get herself done up in the kimono, but she eventually padded over to the shoji and poked her head outside, calling out softly, “Senjurō-kun? I’m done.”

When there was no answer, (Y/n) waited unsurely by the door for a little longer, until she felt awkward just standing there. So, she closed it once more, then padded over to her futon— folding everything up like she had seen in all the Japanese dramas that she had seen— and then moving towards her bag, that had been left a few ways away from where she had been sleeping.

She then rifled through the contents, sighing in relief when she found her passport and her wallet still in there— along with her phone, which had a few cracks on the screen.

“Fuck, that’s gonna be a bitch to use,” The young woman muttered in her native tongue, clicking her tongue in mild irritation as she tried to turning it on again.

No luck, however, which had her throwing it back in her bag and setting it back down on the floor. After all, she sincerely doubted that she would be able to use her paper bills and card to pay for anything in that era.

She was basically nothing more than a sitting duck, unless she stuck close to the Rengokus until she could figure out how and why she was even there in the first place. But those thoughts were put to a halt when she heard Kyōjurō’s telltale laughter from outside the house.

And, before she could stop her feet, she had already padded over to the shoji that led to the yard and had slid it open a tiny bit— peering outside with one eye, before opening the door a little bit wider to poke her head out.

“Kyō- Rengoku-san?” Tiptoeing out onto the engawa, (Y/n) looked left and right to see where his voice was coming from; and it wasn’t until she was standing at the end of the platform, while holding on to a beam, that she saw the familiar head of blond hair that she had been looking for.

Just in time, as well, because Kyōjurō saw her during pretty much the same moment— and the brighter and warmer smile that played at his lips was close to inevitable.

The Hashira felt his heart skip another beat in his chest, as he halfheartedly excused himself from the Kakushi that he had been talking to. And with a few quick strides, as well as a little vault up onto the engawa— to show off a little for the object of his affections— he greeted, “Good morning, (L/n)-san. Did you sleep well?”

“I did, thank you… for your hospitality. For the kimono, and for believing me too…” Her words were choppy at best, but the Hashira picked up on all of that she wanted to tell him— making his grin widen even more, until it was so bright that it was even more breathtaking than before.

Truly, no one could say that Rengoku Kyōjurō wasn’t quite the looker. Because he was.

“I just… saw it at the shop and thought of you,” The young man chuckled bashfully, even going as far as to lift a hand up to the back of his neck and scratch at it in such an adorable manner. “It looks really, really good on you.”

Partnered with the blush on his cheeks, (Y/n) was sure then that her heart was going to get tired sooner rather than later from beating so fast and hard in her chest. “Thank you, Rengoku-san.”

“Kyōjurō.” That had (Y/n)’s eyebrows furrowing in confusion, but even the man himself wasn’t sure what had come over him at that moment. All that he knew was that he wanted to hear her keep saying his name; his given name, like she had before. “You can call me Kyōjurō.”

Her answering smile was so beautiful that the Hashira had to resist the urge to cup her cheeks in his hands and… he didn’t even want to think about what he would have done to those alluring lips of hers.

“Okay, Kyōjurō,” The sound of his given name rolling off of her pretty lips had those butterflies fluttering around inside his stomach again, which only intensified when she added, “You can call me (Y/n).”

Meanwhile, Senjurō was looking at the couple from inside (Y/n)’s room; as he had just come back to get her to have breakfast with him. But the development that he had come across had him stifling a giggle, because the pair looked absolutely adorable out on the engawa.

Both of them flustered, barely a few feet away from each other, and making such moony gazes at each other— which they were oblivious to. It confirmed the younger Rengoku’s hunch that his brother might have finally found the woman for him.

Someone that he would love and cherish forever, and vice versa.

He almost didn’t want to cut in their little moment. “Ani-ue? (L/n)-san? I made breakfast for all of us.”

At the sound of Senjurō’s voice, both Kyōjurō and (Y/n) stepped away from each other; like the spell around them was broken, much like what had happened last night. And the younger Rengoku regretted having done so because, if he were to be honest, he would say that he just wanted his brother to be happy.

***

“What should we do today? Should we ask around if anyone knows anything about traversing time?” Kyōjurō offered as he set down his cup of water, looking over at (Y/n) and automatically smiling at her— a small one, but a smile all the same.

“Wouldn’t that be too… weird?”

“You have a point,” The Hashira laughed then, crossing his arms over his chest and wracking through his head to see what solutions he could offer to his cute guest.

And that had nothing to do with wanting to impress her even more. Nothing at all.

With that, however, both of them settled with retracing (Y/n)’s steps before she had jumped through time and space— going back to the temple near Kyōjurō’s house, and trying to look for any indicators that there had been something awry at play.

But there was none; not even a suspicious looking crack in the ground or any trees that could have served as some portal to another reality.

There was, however, a headache coming on for (Y/n). Especially when she came closer to the pagoda in the middle of the sacred grounds. It was as if it was the source of her affliction— which wouldn’t be far off from her own guess that what she was doing there was somehow tied to the wish she’d made to the gods.

The wish where she’d asked to meet her soulmate; someone who would love her wholeheartedly forever. And she couldn’t think of anyone else that she wanted to fit the bill more, than Rengoku Kyōjurō.

“Are you alright, (Y/n)?”

Kyōjurō’s words had her snapping out of her reverie; shaking her head a little, as if to shake off all of those thoughts, before turning to him. “I just… headache.”

Her words had absolutely escaped her then, since the sight of him reaching out to her was reminiscent of the vision that had flashed in her mind yesterday; just before she had been transported to his time and reality.

And to her absolute surprise, he pressed his fingers to the middle of her forehead and gently smoothed out the space between her eyebrows. She hadn’t even realized that she had been furrowing them in the first place, and that action had her blushing beet red; all the way up to the tips of her ears.

“You don’t need to frown that much, you look prettier with a smile,” The young man complimented quietly; for once abiding by the tranquil atmosphere at the temple.

That, and maybe because he wanted her to be the only one who heard those words; as they were specifically for her alone.

Slowly, he retracted his hand from (Y/n)’s forehead, and steadily tamped down the urge to pull her in and finally have a taste of those lips of hers. It wouldn’t have been a polite thing to do in such sacred grounds, in public— no less.

“Why don’t we talk a walk around the town instead? To give you some reprieve,” The Hashira offered with a smile. “And then we can come back here tomorrow to look for more information…”

Part of him wanted to jump the gun and tell her that she could stay with him forever, but even he knew that that was too forward. They had just met yesterday, after all; and she had told him that his reality only existed in a manga.

If that wasn’t the premise for something tragic, he didn’t know what was. And even though he was so tempted to give in to his budding feelings, he couldn’t put that much pressure on her.

It was true that she made him feel so much— so many good things that he didn’t even think he could feel about someone— but he also had a feeling that, sooner or later, she would want to go back to where she came from.

He didn’t want to be the cause of tethering her down there; especially not when demons were running rampant around the country.

But damn if he didn’t want to keep her with him forever.

Just a day and he was already in so deep; he was both excited and apprehensive of how much deeper his feelings would get for her the longer she stayed there.

Little did he know just how much she would come to mean to him.

***

“Kyōjurō? It’s time for breakfast!” (Y/n) called aloud, before banging the wooden spoon against the pot in her hand— letting the Flame Hashira know, in not so many words, that he should get out of his room then.

It had already been a few months since she had arrived in the Taisho era, and she would be lying if she said that she wasn’t worried about what was happening in her own timeline and reality— but there was realistically nothing that she could do about things.

So, she slowly started to accept the fact that she was stuck there. Not without worrying nightly about how her best friend was doing, and how her family was faring along. She still thought about them and constantly thought about ways that she could possibly get back home, but her efforts weren’t as valiant as before.

Especially since things with Kyōjurō had taken a more… romantic turn.

They had never said anything to confirm their feelings, but it was evident in the way that Kyōjurō would cup her face and hold her hand in private, that he felt the same way that (Y/n) felt for him.

It had been really surprising when he had first taken her hand, mostly because he had done so abruptly during the rare dinner when it was only the two of them eating. Hell, she had almost spilled her food when Kyōjurō just reached out and practically slapped his hand down on hers.

Thankfully, he had gotten gentler over the months, and he had learned to slowly slip her hand into his instead; which never failed to make (Y/n)’s heart flutter— each and every time.

The mere memory of his warm and rough hand enveloping hers had her smiling and blushing, as she set the bowls of food down on the dining table set for three people. Shinjurō never ate with them, and it wasn’t that he didn’t know of her existence— he knew, yet he preferred to stay in his room instead.

So (Y/n) had no idea what the Rengoku patriarch thought about her, or her relationship with his son.

She had been so deep in thought that she didn’t even feel the Hashira’s presence in the room; not until Kyōjurō sat down beside her.

Kyōjurō’s eyes zoned in on the young woman’s left cheek, as he had been doing since he had entered the room a few minutes before. He had been planning on kissing her for a long time, yet he always chickened out at the last minute— so he resolved that day, that he was going to do it.

Or he was going to double his morning exercise routine, as a form of punishment.

“Good morning, (Y/n).” He had been doing so well with his efforts too, what with him leaning in to try and brush his lips against her soft cheek— only for her to turn towards him when he had placed his hand on her back.

And, in a turn of events that he could have only dreamt of until that point, his lips slanted against her in a faint kiss.

Immediately, both their eyes widened in surprise, yet they remained frozen in place; both of them not knowing where things were going next. Not until the Flame Hashira decided to jump in and pull her in further against him, all while pressing his lips harder against her own.

She was so warm, his lips were tingling slightly at the feeling of kissing her, and he wished that the feeling would never end— as he fought off the urge to completely melt against her; along with tamping down the voice in his head that told him to pull her onto his lap and claim her lips thoroughly.

But, at the very last second, he slowly pulled back from her and took a deep breath to calm his racing pulse. He didn’t want to rush her into things; that wasn’t how he was raised.

After all, he wanted to marry her first.

The thought of marriage didn’t even faze him, since he had been considering it a few months after knowing (Y/n). Kyōjurō wanted nothing more than to ask for her hand in marriage, to show her that he really would cherish her forever if she chose to stay with him, but there was still the matter of her not being from that timeline that held him back from doing so.

When before he hadn’t wanted to hold her back from wanting to return to her own reality, he was beginning to succumb to the selfishness that brewed within him.

If given the chance to keep her forever, he would take it in a heartbeat.

“I…” (Y/n) whispered, face completely red and a little bit winded, as she lifted a hand and gently pressed her fingers against her lips.

Finding her shyness extremely cute, the Hashira’s lips pulled up at the corners into a grin— as he pulled a little bit away from her; if only to see more of her adorable expression. “You’re so beautiful.”

Those words only served to shock the young woman even further; eyes widening in surprise, as they flickered up and stared into those piercing red and yellow irises that she had come to love even more.

Much more than she did, than when she had thought he was nothing but a character in a manga. And so much more than she had loved any other person.

It was almost scary how much she loved and cared for Kyōjurō.

So, it absolutely tore her heart when she heard that he had been called to Oyakata-sama’s estate later that afternoon, which had her heart sinking to her stomach. It never boded well for her whenever Kyōjurō went away on missions, but to know that what she had been dreading was unfolding right before her eyes once more— for real, that time— had her feeling weak in the knees as she waited for Kyōjurō at home.

Only, instead of seeing her beloved walking through the gates, she saw his crow flying overhead— with a letter tied to one of its feet.

Her heart sank at the mere sight of it, and even more when she unfurled the parchment to see a letter that told her that he would be back in a few days.

That he just had to deal with a demon, and that he had to take the long-haul train to find it.

“No, no, no, no,” Her breaths came in shallow bursts, and her heart had felt like it had stopped inside her chest. Still, with her entire body awash with a cold and crippling kind of fear, she forced her legs to take her to the room that she had been given within the estate.

Once there, she fished out the pouch where she kept the money that Kyōjurō had been giving her— so she could buy things that she wanted— and didn’t even bother to check in with Senjurō before she left.

(Y/n) couldn’t tell him, because she would make sure that he had nothing to worry about. She would make sure that Kyōjurō lived, because she couldn’t take losing him again— and on a scale that was real, that time.

Reading about it was a different kind of pain, but experiencing it would make her crazy.

He had become such an important person to her, that to lose him would equal to her losing herself. So, that was how she found herself setting off to follow him to the train station.

Unfortunately, she had no clue where it was; nor could she ask anyone for directions— as most people shied away from her. With her being a foreigner and all, most of the locals had taken to simply ignoring her because of Kyōjurō; and it pissed her off to no end that she they wouldn’t even look her in the eye.

Kyōjurō and Senjurō had been the only ones to accept her wholeheartedly into their home, and she couldn’t be more thankful for that. Albeit a little suspicious about the gods once more playing a hand with how she had come across them, because there was no way that it was pure coincidence that she had traversed realities the same day that he decided to visit the temple on a whim.

Had she not come across them that day, she didn’t even know where she would have ended up.

And with that last thought swimming in her head, she straightened her shoulders out and took in a deep breath before soldiering on to where she had once had Senjurō mention the train station.

If memory served her right, and if she understood him correctly, then she would get there with about twenty minutes of walking.

“Why isn’t Uber a thing here?” She whispered under her breath, huffing as she fanned herself with her hand and started power walking towards where she guessed the station was.

Only, she had made a wrong turn at one point— and had to retrace her steps to the main road; where she then tried her hardest to make out the characters from ‘station’ on the sign boards and flyers that she had passed by.

And after an extra half hour, she had finally arrived at the station; met with so many people falling in line to get tickets for the first and only train that was leaving for the day. She almost wanted to tell people not to buy any of the tickets, and tell them to go home, yet she was but a tiny speck in a sea of people.

A foreigner, no less; so, the chances of anyone taking her seriously were nil.

Part of her was tempted to tell Kyōjurō about it, but she didn’t want to alert the lower moon demon controlling the train about her knowledge of things; as that would only put her at the forefront of his kill list, and would most likely put more people in danger.

She had to be smart about things, so she hatched a quick— and half-cocked— plan to hide in the last train car until she was sure that the train conductor was back out towards the first train car, before she snuck in to save Kyōjurō and the others.

“Oh thank all the gods that I took this part to heart,” The young woman whispered once more, as she looked down at her ticket and conveniently threw it in the trash bin.

She wanted to hop in the train car that her beloved was on, if only to see him safe and sound— and eating his mountain of bento box meals— but bypassed that car quickly as she hastened to the last one.

And, with one look behind herself as the train whistle blew, to see if the coast was clear, she hopped on the platform to the cargo hold and quickly snuck inside the dark and stifling car.

As nervous as she was, her heart pounding wildly in her chest was something she expected; what was weird was the tightness that came with it. It was suffocating, and beginning to weigh down on her shoulders, yet she shook the feeling off in favor of finding a trunk that wasn’t stacked up to sit on.

Once she was situated nicely— just in time too, as the train began to lurch forward— she began to run through all of the manga panels in her head. She could only vividly remember the part where Akaza appeared, as that part was such a painfully memorable one, but the few flashes of the train panels helped her gauge the timeline.

Plus, it also helped her bide her time; calming her racing thoughts a little, since she knew that Kyōjurō and the others would be able to handle the demon with little to no problems.

Once she heard the train’s whistle, she took that as a signal to get up from her perch on one of the trunks— making her way towards the steel door that led to the other cars.

Only, when she tried to turn the knob, it was to find that it was chained from the outside.

“Fuck. Fuck,” The young woman whispered under her breath, trying desperately to push the door open— on the off chance that the porter had been lazy and didn’t latch the padlock on the chains. But, as her luck would have it, the padlock was firmly in place, keeping the door firmly shut.

Instantly, her eyes darted around the dim room, trying to look for a way to get out of there before things went to hell inside the train. But she found no other exits except the main doors, as the windows had metal screens on them to keep thieves out.

The train lurched beneath her at that moment, making her cry out as she got jostled against the door. And it wouldn’t have been bad, had the mountain of luggage behind her not come falling down; essentially trapping her right where she stood.

Just when she thought that things could get worse for her, they did when the heaviness that had been brewing inside her since she had boarded the train began to bubble up. It had her fighting back the migraine that practically split her head, all while resisting the urge to reach up and clutch at her tightening chest. She was left like a sitting duck, barely holding herself back from crying and screaming out her beloved’s name.

That was, until she remembered that Kyōjurō would be protecting the last five car trains; which most likely included the passenger car right across the car that she was in.

“Kyōjurō! Kyōjurō!” She whisper-yelled, wishing to all the gods that the demon on top of the train wouldn’t pay much attention to the ruckus that she was causing.

(Y/n) then began banging on the door with her open hand; heavy and frantic taps that she was sure the Flame Hashira would hear the moment that he came darting to the last passenger car.

Her hunch was right, thankfully, as Kyōjurō picked up on her faint calls through the noise of the train and the ruckus that the demon was making. And hearing her voice above all of that felt akin to having a bucket of ice-cold water being thrown at him; as icy fear gripped his chest.

“(Y/n)?!” The Hashira called out, kicking down the door that the demon had sealed shut with its flesh, eyes wide with panic and his heart racing in his chest the more that he heard her banging against the door and calling out his name.

Not wasting anymore time, Kyōjurō threw a quick glance over his shoulder and huffed out a frustrated sigh as he was torn between doing another mad dash to the front of all the carriages that he was protecting.

But it was a no brainer what his choice was: it was to save (Y/n) first, because she would always be his top priority.

And so, with a small leap to get to the cargo hold, he swung down the hilt of his sword and broke the lock that held the chains together; wrenching the door open and opening his arms just in time for his beloved to jump into them.

Tears marred her cheeks, but it didn’t appear that she had noticed that she had been crying in the first place, as she made no move to wipe them away. That made him feel even worse, but he brought his left hand up to cup the back of her head as he pressed her cheek to the crook of his neck.

“I’m here, shh, you’re okay. I’m here, my love.” In any other time, the effortless use of the nickname would have made him blush so hard but, at that moment, it only brought him relief. “I have you. You’re okay.”

He didn’t know why she was even there in the first place, but it really wasn’t the time or the place to ask her that. So, he decided to just ask her later.

(Y/n)’s arms automatically wrapped themselves around Kyōjurō’s middle, as she held herself as close to him as possible. The pain she felt was beginning to intensify, and the tightness in her chest began to double— and all she could do was cry; no matter how much she forced herself to numb herself down from all the negative sensations assaulting her.

She clung as tightly as she could to the back of the Hashira’s uniform, being selfish enough to not want him to part from her— because parting from her would mean certain death for him.

There was nothing more that (Y/n) wanted than for her beloved man to stay alive— so they could make all of her wishes for their future a reality. A family with him— the house in the mountains that she wanted, all the kids that she’d only seen him looking at with a sad longing in his eyes; she wanted to make him the happiest man in the world.

But she also knew that she couldn’t let it cost anyone’s life.

“(Y/n), I have to go.” Reluctantly, the blond pulled the young woman away from him; looking down at her tear-stained face before leaning down so he could brush his lips against her. “I’ll come back for you, just stay here.”

And with that, he untangled himself from his beloved (Y/n)’s arms dived back into the foray with the demon; making as quick work of it as possible; all while protecting the rest of the passengers on the train.

It was his duty, after all.

But he would be lying if he said that he didn’t want things to get over and done with as quickly as possible. Which had him really thankful— yet slightly fearful for (Y/n)’s safety— when the train derailed; sending people flying, and carriages falling to the wayside of the tracks.

Kyōjurō didn’t even wait another second to see the demon start to disintegrate, because his feet carried him towards the object of his affections; his future wife.

She had been tossed back within the luggage car, making his heart sink to his stomach as he hurriedly pushed away all of the trunks and luggage bags that were blocking her from coming to him.

Her sobs were soft and muffled as she bit down on her bottom lip, but they still felt like tiny pinpricks of ice to the Flame Hashira’s heart; especially when he saw how battered she had gotten in the fiasco.

The bruise forming on her cheek was minor, but he still found himself hugging her as tight as he could— burying his face in her hair, as she clung to him once more.

In the distance, Kyōjurō picked up another presence— one that had him looking up and surveying the area. And he found himself pulling away from (Y/n) to have his hand ready at the hilt of his sword. Whatever had come was powerful, and he wanted her nowhere near it.

“Stay here, and don’t go anywhere.”

The young woman’s eyes widened at that implication, knowing what was to come; getting her stuck in a moral dilemma, that had her pinned between a rock and another hard place. Yet, she would be damned if she didn’t admit that it hurt so much. “No, no, no, you can’t go. Please. Please, Kyōjurō. Please.”

If only she could help him, then she would have. She would have done everything in her power to help him.

Her hands tried to hold him where he was, but Kyōjurō still pulled away from her again, feeling something in his gut telling him to stay put. But he wasn’t doing that; not when he had so many people to protect— especially the person whom he was going to ask to marry him after all that had happened.

“Don’t worry about me dying here,” And so, with a reassuring smile at her, the blond whispered, “I’ll come back to you, I promise.”

Those words didn’t reassure (Y/n) one bit but, before she could reach out and hold him again, the pain bearing down on her had her clutching her chest and gritting her teeth; unbeknownst to Kyōjurō, whom had just darted towards where he was sensing the newcomer’s dangerous aura.

It was as if there was a vise wrapped around (Y/n)’s neck; making her breaths come out in ragged pants, and her muscles seize up with the overall agony that coursed through her body.

And it was at that moment that she realized that, little by little, she was starting to disappear; her fingertips turning into golden dust at first, and slowly extending up to her knuckles.

“No. Not now, please. Not now,” She whimpered, completely helpless, as she stared at her shaking hands. “Fuck.”

A loud bang had her looking up from her own dilemma, making her see the bigger picture and urging her to move before she thought about it. Her legs began to carry her as fast as they could to where the cloud of dust had formed, with her being completely uncaring about how she felt and how she would end up.

What mattered to her was getting to Kyōjurō, and saving him, even if it cost her life.

Just up ahead, she could see only flashes of Akaza effortlessly fighting off Kyōjurō’s attacks, which had her pushing her legs even faster— all while more and more tears rolled down her cheeks.

“KYŌJURŌ!” She cried in a broken and hoarse tone, which fell on deaf ears as he was too engrossed in fighting off the Upper Moon demon.

It had only been a mere few minutes, but the Flame Hashira was already battered and bruised; his ribs were broken, and he was sure that he was bleeding internally at that point, yet he still pushed forward.

Only stopping when he had missed and Akaza had managed to land a painful blow to his left eye. It put him at such a hard spot, yet he didn’t want to give up.

He couldn’t give up.

His breath was also coming in shaky bursts at that moment, and his entire body ached, but he was thankful for the little reprieve that he received as he geared up for one more blow; adjusting his hold on the hilt of his sword and concentrating all of his efforts into the tenth form.

However, just as he and Akaza charged forward, (Y/n)’s voice cut through Akaza’s nonsensical chatter; and it felt like the world had come to a standstill as both of them looked over to where she was.

And it was to feel his entire body go numb when he saw her starting to disintegrate; golden dust emanating from every part of her that all the fight in him almost leaving his body. Had it not been for his last-minute thinking, he wouldn’t have taken the little window that (Y/n)’s distraction provided to swing his sword and cut off the Upper Moon demon’s head.

It fell to the ground with a muffled thud, but he couldn’t care less about it then— thinking that his job was done— as he raced towards (Y/n) and caught her just in time as she collapsed to the ground.

He hadn’t even realized that he was also crying, not until he had (Y/n) cradled in his arms as she cupped his cheeks with her half-disintegrated hands. “(Y/n), what’s wrong? What’s happening? What should I do?”

Kyōjurō’s mind was racing with so many thoughts at once, yet he could only manage to speak in broken fragments— as his sobs cut through his sentences. He sounded every inch of the broken man that he felt.

It was as if someone had just ripped his heart out right in front of him.

“I’ll… I’ll find you in your reality. I promise. You won’t ever be alone ever again, (Y/n); you mean everything to me.” His confession poured from his lips, frantic and garbled, but still legible to everyone’s ears. But what had everyone looking away was when the Flame Hashira dipped his head and claimed his beloved’s lips as the sun rose over the horizon.

Holding himself against her, all while he devolved into such loud and heartbroken sobs as he promised over and over that he would find her in her own time and reality.

After all, he was never one to back down from promises; especially when it came to the one and only love of his life.

***

When (Y/n) came to, it was to the sight of her best friend hovering above her— with her face stained with tears, and her eyes looking completely panicked. “What are you even doing here? I’ve been looking for you for almost an hour now! I thought you got kidnapped!”

Slowly, the young woman looked around her and noted that she was back at the temple in Setagaya; with her back flush against the stone pavement just behind the pagoda.

Thankfully, no one else was there to see her in such an embarrassing predicament.

“And when did you get a kimono as nice as that? Did you leave me behind just to get that? Christ, (Y/n)!” (F/n) rambled through her tears, roughly picking her best friend up by the shoulders and holding her close as she called her a dumbass over and over.

“I…” She couldn’t even answer straight, as what had transpired in the Taishō era flashed in her mind. It had her thinking if it had all been a hallucination, but when she looked down at the kimono she wore, she could tell that it wasn’t.

Because there was no other explanation for the fiery red kimono she donned, other than her traversing time and spending almost a year with Rengoku Kyōjurō. It seemed to her that time flowed differently in both realities, because she was sure that ten months had already passed.

“You what?”

“I was with him… with Kyōjurō,” (Y/n) whispered, feeling her own tears well up in her eyes, before they began falling down her cheeks. “I… he fought Akaza, and he lived… but I disappeared.”

“You’re not making any sense, (Y/n). Did you hit your head hard?” With those words, (F/n) reached up and felt for any bumps to the back of her friend’s head— only to find none. “And where’s your bag? Did you leave it somewhere?”

The young woman sat there instead of answering, completely frozen as her silent tears gradually turned into sobs. All the while, her arms wrapped themselves around her friend, and she cried her heart out— for all the things that had been, and all of the things that could have been between her and her beloved Hashira.

She didn’t even know how long they sat there on the ground but, once she was all cried out, (F/n) transferred her to one of the benches that were strewn around the temple; letting her get her bearings, before she set off to try and help her friend find her bag.

With every minute that passed, the pain in (Y/n)’s heart grew harder and harder to deal with— and she wanted nothing more than to go home at that moment, if only to curl up into a ball and try to remember the way that Kyōjurō’s lips felt against hers.

“You look so sad, my love…” The familiar voice had the aforementioned woman looking up, especially when she felt a warm and gentle hand cup her cheek and tilt her face up.

Slowly, tears that she didn’t know she could still produce welled up in her eyes— as she took in the glorious sight that Kyōjurō made in his own black kimono. He had a scar on his closed left eye, but it gave him such a rugged edge that— dare she say— was not unattractive at all. And partnered with the tears, her lips pulled up at the corners in a disbelieving yet relieved smile; something that was all for him as she sprung up and wrapped her arms around him.

“You’re here! How?” Her hands clung tightly to him, curling into the material of his clothes as she buried her face in the crook of his neck— taking in the scent that was so intoxicating and entirely Kyōjurō.

“Well, I had to return your bag…” The blond chuckled, as he ensconced his beloved in his arms— brushing his lips against the crown of her head, and smiling when he felt her lips brush against his skin. “That, and I wanted to ask if you would marry me.”

“Yes! Yes, but… how?” (Y/n) answered with a slight laugh, pulling back and cupping Kyōjurō’s cheeks in her hands; as if to make sure that he really was there.

The young man grinned then, taking hold of one of her hands and turning his head to press his lips against the inside of her wrist. “It took a while to arrange everything with Oyakata-sama, and to figure out how to get here, but I’m sure that one of his descendants from this time and reality would have my identification papers for me.”

Silence passed between the couple then, as (Y/n) tossed and turned his words in her head, before giving in and wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her lips against his— in a much-anticipated kiss.

She had so many questions left unanswered, and she was extremely tempted to face the gods once more and ask them what exactly was happening, but she reckoned that it was best not to challenge them anymore.

After all, she had gotten her wish: someone who would love and cherish her forever; and that man was Rengoku Kyōjurō.

BONUS:

(F/n) huffed irately as she stepped back from a thicket of bushes within the temple grounds, still feeling cross with her best friend for disappearing just like that— but not understanding what she was getting at with her explanation of meeting a manga character.

And, finally feeling defeated in her search for (Y/n)’s bag, she circled back to where she left the other woman— only to see her pulling away from a kiss with a weird looking man; someone that looked eerily similar to Rengoku from the Demon Slayer manga.

Instantly, her hackles were raised, as she let out a barking cry, “Hey, you cool cosplay bitch, get away from her!”

Kyōjurō’s eyebrows furrowed at that, as he didn’t understand a lick of what the other woman had said— but he turned back to his future wife and asked, “Is that the friend that you’d mentioned before? She seems protective. You’ve been in really good hands, then.”

“Didn’t you hear me, you weirdo? Get your hands off of (Y/n)!”

“She has my thanks for protecting you all this time.”

290 notes · View notes

angelatmidnight1 · 3 years

Note

fuse as a lee PLEASE!! it’s too cute 😆😆

Let Sleeping Dogs Lie

After a particularly bombastic match, Fuse treats himself to a cold beer, a grilled steak, and a well-deserved nap. Walter enjoys a good R and R session after a little mayhem, and today is no different. However, instead of enjoying that nap, a rather mischievous Legend crosses his path, and his name is Octavio Silva. It’s too tempting not to prank Walter as he slumbers, and the poor man is down for the count. Rampart joins him in the mischief and, much to his surprise, they discover that the explosives enthusiast is ticklish. Now, it’s time for the real fun to begin!

“Ahhh, that’s the stuff…”

Walter murmured aloud after he’d downed the rest of his beer. It’d been a long and trying day in the Apex Games; his squad never seemed to catch a break, and many of the fights just barely went in his favor. If it hadn’t been for the extra grenades in his pockets or picking the right time to drop his Mother Lode, the championship would’ve gone to someone else. But, alas, he and his squad managed to pull through and claim the crown for themselves. It was an exciting game, no doubt about it, and those were the kind of games ole Fusey couldn’t get enough of. They reminded him of being back on Salvo, back in the Bonecage, where he put many a bloke to sleep with his fists. He was in the prime of his life then and, like a fine wine, he only got better with age. Of course, he couldn’t spend all of his time raising hell, and there was nothing better than a cold beer and a grilled steak after a hard day. He was even lucky enough to have the entire common room to himself, since the rest of the Legends were all scattered throughout the dropship. After putting the empty bottle down on the table, the explosives enthusiast stretched out onto the couch. He decided to take off his metal arm to get more comfortable and put it next to the discarded bottle. Then, the tiredness finally catching up to him, Walter closed his eyes and dozed off shortly after.

What Fuse didn’t know was that Octavio was actually within the vicinity, wandering throughout the halls without anything to do. Normally, he would be hanging with Ajay or pulling off some sick stunts in his Gauntlet. Ajay, however, was busy working in the med bay and didn’t have time to deal with her hyperactive friend. And his Gauntlet, much to his dismay, was closed down for maintenance along with the entirety of King’s Canyon. The speedster never liked rules and tried to sneak in anyway, but he was caught and received a stern warning from the Games’ admins. Octane muttered some Spanish curses under his breath as he wandered into the common room. Maybe, he thought, he could put those thermites that he swiped on his way out to good use. He noticed Fuse on the couch and speeded over to him, grinning. If he was going to do anything with grenades, he’d definitely want the explosives enthusiast’s on his side. Since he was approaching from behind, he didn’t notice that the old man was sound asleep.

“Hey, amigo! I saw your last game, you were awesome!” he complimented. He climbed over the couch and plopped beside him. “You gotta show me how you pulled off that stick with the arc star. A collateral like that would look sick on my feed.”

When Walter didn’t respond, he arched a brow and turned to him. The explosives enthusiast was slightly slouched over, fast asleep, with his good arm draped over his stomach. Octavio blinked and leaned in to poke his shoulder, but he didn’t stir. The gears in his head turned and he grinned widely behind his mask. If he wasn’t able to pull some stunts or hang out with Ajay, he decided that he’d do something just as fun: pull a prank.

It took about ten minutes, but Octavio managed to dig up a can of shaving cream and a feather for a classic prank. He gave the room a quick once over to make sure no one was around to either distract him or wake the older man up. When he was certain that the coast was clear, he popped open the can and tipped over to Fuse. He slowly grabbed his hand and pried it off of his stomach so he could turn it over with the palm facing up. Every now and then he paused, looking for any signs that he might be waking up, but he didn’t give any. Lucky for Octavio, it seemed like Walter was a heavy sleeper. Octavio put a handful of shaving cream in the man’s palm and chuckled excitedly. Sure, this was a popular prank, but it was still funny.

Oh man, mis amigos are gonna love this.

Octane put the can down and put the feather between his index finger and thumb. He stepped closer to Fuse and took a breath, quickly fluttering it against his right cheek. At first, he didn’t give a reaction. But after a second try, Walter scrunched his nose and turned his head away. The speedster repeated the motion, flicking the feather back and forth, but the older man would just scrunch up his face and squirm away. There were a couple of times where it looked like Fuse was going to use his hand to brush his face, but he kept putting it down at the last minute, earning a groan from Octavio.

“Come on, just a lil bit higher…” he murmured, deciding to switch to his left cheek and increase his efforts. Footfalls sounded off behind the daredevil, but he didn’t notice, so the curious individual was able to walk up right beside him.

“Oi, what’cha doin’?” Came Rampart’s loud voice, which startled Octavio. His head snapped towards hers and he brought a finger to his lips.

“Shh! I’m trying to prank dormilón (sleepyhead) over here,” he whispered, gesturing to the shaving cream with the feather. “So don’t wake him up.”

Ramya’s eyebrows rose and she sat down at the opposite side of Walter. “Gramps is down for the count, huh? Guess he ain’t all that spry after all.” she snickered. She craned her head over to see the shaving cream in his hand and smirked. “Ooo, that’s a classic prank right there. Want some help? Bet I could dig up some markers.”

Octavio shook his head and waved her off with his free hand. “Nah, I’m good. Just need him to itch his face.” He explained, poking the feather into Fuse’s left cheek at random intervals. Walter stirred and grumbled, making the speedster retract his hand. It looked like he was going to wake up but, thankfully, he calmed back down and returned to sleep. Rampart rolled her eyes, leaning over Fuse to take the feather from Octavio.

“You’re doin’ it wrong. Watch.” The modder instructed, wiggling the feather against Fuse’s nose. Walter grumbled again and turned his face away, but Ramya was persistent. She propped herself up on her knees and crawled closer to him. She leaned forward, flicking the plume against his nose again. She balanced herself with her hand against his side, unconsciously gripping it when he fidgeted. Walter twitched and exhaled sharply through his nose. He leaned away from the invasive touch, this time curling against the arm of the couch, and sighed deeply. Ramya blinked and glanced over at Octavio. The speedster met her gaze and inched closer to Fuse, cocking his head to the side.

“Is he…?” Octane curiously poked at Walter’s ribcage, earning a grunt and a quiet, yet undeniable chuckle. The speedster’s eyes lit up with mischief and he grinned at his accomplice. “Mira, looks like tough guy’s ticklish.”

Ramya matched his grin and she walked two fingers along his side. Fuse squirmed and pushed himself further into the couch’s arm. He chuckled and murmured something indecipherable, a faint smirk appearing on his lips. “I think you’re onto somethin’, mate.” The modder answered, crossing over his stomach to repeat the same motion on his other side. “Never thought I’d meet a ticklish Salvonian. Now I’ve seen it all.”

Octane and Rampart’s poking and prodding stirred ole Fusey out of his nap, albeit slowly. What started off as quiet grunts and chuckles evolved into prominent giggles as the duo increased their efforts. By the time Walter was somewhat conscious, his nerves buzzed with the ticklish sensations, and he jolted awake.

“AH! Whahat---oh, it’s just you lot.” Walter breathed a sigh of relief, unaware of the situation that he’d found himself in. He was still groggy from being disturbed from his nap. “You pups need somethin’? Or can this old dog go back to--”

He paused, feeling something foamy in his hand. He glanced at his palm and his eyebrows furrowed. “The hell? What’s this doing in my hand?”

Walter shook the stuff off of him. He noticed the feather in Ramya’s hand and smirked, putting two and two together. “Oh, thought you could prank ole Fusey, did ya?”

“He did,” Rampart nodded to Octavio, earning a glare from the speedster. “But he’s a bloody amateur. Guess it’s for the best though, otherwise we wouldn’t know how ticklish you are.”

Fuse gave her a bewildered look. “What?” he spat, yelping when Octane jabbed him in the side. “Hey, knock it off!”

Octavio chuckled. “Didn’t peg you as the ticklish type, amigo. That must suck for you.” He teased, aiming another poke at his stomach. Walter batted him away with his good hand and scoffed.

“I reckon everyone’s ticklish to some extent, mate. What of it?” The explosives enthusiast responded, only to have the realization hit him seconds later. He was sandwiched between two of the most mischievous Legends in the Apex Games, and he’d taken off the only thing keeping him from being the target of their mischief: his metal arm. Granted, the metallic limb wasn’t that far away from where he was, but one of the pups had agility on his side. Walter’s had worse odds though, so he lurched forward to grab it.

Like clockwork, the two younger Legends jumped into action. Octane grabbed Walter’s arm and pulled him backwards, causing him to yelp. Ramya was quick to get up and push the table holding the metal arm further away from where they were. Somehow, Fuse managed to free himself of the speedster's hold and stand up.

“Yeah nah, you lot can have the bloody couch. I’m going to enjohohohy myhyhy--ah! Stohohop!”

While Walter was distracted, Rampart snuck up behind him and poked at his sides. The explosives enthusiast sputtered and snickered, turning to fend her off next. This gave Octavio the opportunity to seize his arm and pull him back on the couch. Fuse yelled again and tried to push him back, but it was difficult to do with one arm. The ticklish pokes were only making it that much harder. So, although Walter outmatched both of the Legends in terms of physical strength, Octane was able to get him down and hold his arm above his head.

“Hurry, chica! Get his legs and I’ll keep his arm down.” The speedster called over his shoulder, adding to the tickle attack by scratching along Walter's stomach. Fuse arched his back and fell into a deeper pool of laughter.

“Nohohoho! Blohohohoody hehehell, gehehehet ohohohff mehehehe!” Walter protested, struggling to propel himself upwards by digging his heels into the couch. Ramya grinned and straddled the man’s waist, effectively pinning him down.

“Aw, ya ain’t afraid of a little tickling, are ya mate?” The modder teased, digging her wiggling fingers into his sides. Fuse laughed even louder and twisted his torso side to side.

“I ahahahain’t afrahahahahid of ahahahnytHIHIHIHNG!” He fired back, his laughter jumping in pitch when Octavio poked into the sides of his stomach. The speedster was positioned above his head, holding his arm down with his knee, and grinning widely. He opted for using his thumbs to drill into the spot, snickering when he bucked his hips and swore.

“Oh yeah? Then tell us where you’re most ticklish.” He challenged, smirking when Fuse’s head snapped up to him.

“WHAHAHAHAT?”

Octavio laughed. “You heard me! Tell us where your worst spot is, and we’ll leave you alone.” He repeated, using all of his nails to torment Fuse’s stomach.

“Maybe.” Ramya chimed in, finding his hip bones and giving them some quick squeezes. The old man yelled and swore again as he tried to buck her off of him. He didn’t want to accidentally send her flying across the room, but he hadn’t been tickled since his younger days, and he’d forgotten just how ticklish he really was. Granted, most people he came across didn’t want to tickle a man who had a metal arm and wielded explosives, but these two pups weren’t deterred at all.

Walter’s laughter was only getting louder the more they tickled him. Octavio had gotten bored of sticking to one spot and started poking at his ribcage. He arched his back and cackled; his ribs were a very ticklish spot, coming just shy of being his worst one. For a moment, he considered telling the pups where that spot was, if it meant they’d stop pestering him. But, the thought was gone almost as soon as it came up. If Ole Fusey was anything, he was certainly stubborn.

“NOHOHOHOHO!” He yelled, bucking his hips again when the speedster increased his efforts. “COHOHOHME OHOHN! YOHOHOHU’VE HAHAHAD YOHOHOHUR FUHUHUN!”

Ramya scoffed and reached behind her to squeeze his knee. He responded by yelping and drumming his leg against the couch cushions. “I thought you said you weren’t scared,” she simpered, her nails dancing along the top of his knee and underneath it. “It must be a really bad spot if ya ain’t gonna tell us. Which isn’t the best idea, cause we’ll find out eventually.”

Fuse tugged as hard as he could at his pinned arm, trying to wench it free, but the speedster held strong. He laughed harder the higher up Octavio tickled, throwing his body around. Octane was trying to gage which ribs were the most sensitive; he raked his nails against the bones at a rapid pace and scribbled at the spaces between them. So far, they all seemed equal in sensitivity, but the speedster wasn’t ready to give up just yet.

“OKAHAHAY! OKAHAHAY WAHAHAIT!” Fuse screeched when the speedster lingered on his two centermost ribs. The younger Legends perked up, slowing the tickling down just enough to keep the poor man giggling.

“Yeah? Got something to say?” Octavio asked, rhythmically tapping against the fleshy part beneath his ribcage. Walter gasped and lost himself in heavy giggles before he was able to put some words together.

“Lehehehet’s….lehehehet’s mahahahke ahahaha deahahahal…” he tittered. Maybe while he bargained with them, he could keep them distracted long enough to pull his arm free. “Lehehehet mehehe up, let me get back to me nap. And I’ll tehehll ya whahat you wanna knohow after.”

Rampart arched a skeptic brow and gently skittered her fingertips over his stomach. Fuse flinched and sucked in his stomach, prompting the modder to apply a little more pressure. “How do we know ya won’t cut tail and run the second we let you go?”

“I wohohohn’t! Yohohur mahahate wohohould cahahatch up to mehehe! Cohohme ohohn…” Walter snickered when Ramya switched from the gentle touches to deliberate scratching. “Leheheht mehehe gohoho!”

Rampart looked up at Octavio while she circled one nail around the man’s navel. “I dunno...whaddaya think, mate? Should we let him go?”

Octane withdrew his hands and pretended to ponder the request. He was having fun; no, he was having a blast, and he wasn’t ready to stop any time soon! Fuse was one of the last people he’d ever thought to be ticklish, and he didn’t think this opportunity would present itself again. He gave the old man a brief moment to breathe before he dropped his hands back onto his ribcage. He prodded at the fleshy part beneath the ribcage and worked his way up the bones, earning a scream and loud fit of laughter. “Psh, no way! This is the least bored I’ve been all day.” He piped, laughing when Walter tried to roll away from him again.

“AHAHAHAHAHAHA! NOHOHOHO YOHUHUHU BLOHOHOHOODY DROHOHONGOHOHO!” Fuse screamed and writhed when Octavio kneaded back into his centermost ribs. Ramya giggled and reached underneath his shirt, scribbling her fingertips against his bare sides and tummy. This prompted another scream and an even louder burst of laughter. “STAHAHAHAP TIHIHIHCKLING MEHEHE!”

“Nah, sorry mate. He’s my partner in crime, can’t let him down.” The modder quipped, gently pinching both sides of his abdomen. Walter almost threw her off of his waist and shook with raucous laughter.

“BAHAHAHAHA! I’LL KIHIHILL YAHAHA BOHOHOHTH! I SWEHEHEHEHAR!”

The younger Legends were laughing almost as hard as he was and they picked up the tickling pace. “Ooo, I’m so scared.” Ramya snickered, circling her nails back around the man’s navel. Walter snorted and furiously kicked a pillow, sending it flying across the room. Octane momentarily stopped tickling him and threw his head back with laughter.

“Sí, you sound terrifying right now.” He added, smirking. He tickled up higher still, reaching his uppermost ribs, and scritched at them at a rapid pace.

Now, Walter wasn’t someone who was easily frightened, but the panic set in once the speedster attacked those ribs. He violently thrashed around with his laughter bordering on hysterics. If Octavio tickled any higher, he knew he wouldn’t last long.

“AHAHAHAHAHAH STHAHAHAHP! EHENOHOUGH ALREHEHEADY!” Fuse demanded through heavy fits of laughter. He arched his back when he alternated between the two ribs, rocking from one side to the other to try and avoid the tickles. His stubbornness was hanging by a thread now; maybe it would've been better for him to just come clean? Little did Walter know, neither Octane or Rampart were going to be as easily swayed now.

“Nope! You had your chance. And it looks like I found a good spot here.” The speedster answered with a grin, moving back down his rib cage to tickle each rib individually. Walter threw his head back and kicked another pillow off of the couch, his laughter taking on a desperate note. “Probably your worst one, right?”

Fuse frantically nodded. “YEHEHEHEHEHEHES! IHIHIHIHIHT IHIHIHIS! SOHOHO STOHOHOP!” He shouted, practically splitting his sides when he gently pinched the centermost ribs. His laughter took on different pitches depending on where Octavio tickled; poking beneath the rib cage made him giggle uncontrollably, tickling along the ribs themselves made him scream and roar with laughter. Rampart looked up at the two of them; she noticed that the higher up he tickled, the more the explosives enthusiast struggled. She grinned, reaching up to join Octane in tormenting his ribs by poking at his lowermost ones.

“You get his armpits yet? I think you’d wanna be thorough.” She offered, her grin widening when Fuse glared at her...or at least tried to. There was no way she could take him seriously with how hard he was laughing.

Octane glanced at her and chuckled. “No, don’t think I have. Are your armpits ticklish too, amigo?” He asked, slowly poking back up the man’s rib cage. He felt Walter stiffen and he beamed behind his mask.

“N-Nohohohoho! Thehehey’re nohohohot!” He lied; the unfamiliar feeling of panic eating at his nerves increased the closer his nails got to his armpits. Did ole Fusey’s voice crack when he told this lie? No, it didn’t! And he’d deny it for as long as it could...but that would just be another lie.

“No? Bummer.” Octavio bit back a smirk and sighed, leaving his hands resting on the top of the rib cage, just underneath where his armpits started. Ramya halted her tickling too and gave the speedster a questioning look. If he hadn’t been wearing the mask, she’d be able to see that mischief in his eyes was still going strong. Even Fuse, who was grateful for the break, was a tiny bit skeptical. He glanced at his hands and then at the kid’s face, breathing heavily. Was he really going to let him go, just like that?

Well, the short answer was no.

“Guess I’ll just have to forget about it and go see i--SIKE!”

Without warning, Octane buried his hands in Fuse’s armpits and wiggled his fingers around. The explosives enthusiast screamed and immediately dissolved into hysterical laughter. He didn’t even have a chance to fight it; the ticklish sensations came swift and sudden, and left him writhing on the couch. This time, he accidentally threw the modder off of him, and he could only pray that she wasn’t injured. Besides a yip of surprise and a few words of profanity, Ramya was perfectly fine.

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP! BLOHOHOHOOHDY STAHAHAHAHA--” Walter’s demands were lost in his laughter as he dug his heels into the couch again. Since his arm was the only thing pinned down, he bucked himself forward to try and sit up. It didn’t work the first time, and it spurred Octavio to tickle him faster, drawing out more protests and wild laughter. He tried again, and again, and one more time after that, but the tickling had weakened him, and he didn’t pull his arm free before Ramya collected herself.

“Heh, well that looks like that was a lie, huh?” Rampart noted. Since she didn’t want to get thrown off again, she decided to sit next to the couch and poke at his ribs. Walter snorted again and laughed even harder, his legs flailing all over the place. “All the more reason to tickle you. Right mate?”

Octavio happily nodded and fluttered his nails along the length of Walter’s armpits. “Yup! You brought this on yourself, señor.” He grinned, going on a search for an even more ticklish spot along the armpits.

Meanwhile, Fuse was dying laughing. He did all he could to try and propel himself forward to escape, but Octavio’s knee kept his arm in place. The last thing he wanted to do was plead, but he was running out of options, and he only had so much oxygen. “OKAHAHAY! ALRIHIHIHGHT! I’M SOHOHOHRRY!” He yelped, thrashing violently when the speedster lingered on the lowermost areas of the armpits, just a hair away from the ribs. Whenever he stroked there, he twitched and absolutely howled with laughter. “PLEHEHEHEASE STAHAHAHAP!”

Ramya was the first to take notice; Walter didn’t seem like the type of guy to beg, so she assumed that they didn’t have a lot of time to keep on tickling him. She gently scratched at the ultra sensitive ribs that Octavio found: the uppermost and center most ones on each side of the rib cage. He desperately shook his head, attempting to dodge their hands, but they easily kept up with him. Thankfully, after a few more bouts of heavy laughter and intense struggling, Fuse finally pulled hard enough to get his arm free.

He immediately hopped to his feet and hurried towards his metal arm. The younger Legends blinked, surprised that he actually managed to get away, but it didn’t last long. They chased after him, laughing, and caught up with him before he could get a hold of his limb. Walter whirled around, extending his good arm out to defend himself, but it was too late. Both Octane and Rampart launched themselves towards the explosives enthusiast at the same time, each one burying a hand into an armpit. Fuse flinched and barked out some more protests mixed in with laughter, but ultimately, he ended up back on the floor in stitches.

“AHA! I GIHIHIHIHVE! I GIHIHIHIHVE! ENOHOHOHOUGH!” Walter yelled. He planted his hand on the floor and tried to use it as leverage to push himself up, but crashed back down when both Legends increased the tickling pace. At this point, poor Fusey was too tired to really try and get them to stop, so he could only shout another ‘plehehehehease’ before his laughter fell silent.

Rampart gradually halted the tickling and gently elbowed Octane. “Alright, alright. Let 's stop. Think grandpa is all tuckered out.” She chuckled, scooting back to give the man some room to recover. Octane pouted, but stopped shortly after Ramya did.

“Fine. Hey, no hard feelings, right amigo? I was super bored till you came along.” He added, heading over to where his metal arm was. He picked it up and handed it to Walter, who had to take a few extra minutes to catch his breath before he was able to grab it. He attached it back to his limb and exhaled. Fuse was still tired, but for a completely different reason now.

“...Glad I could be of service,” Walter quipped sarcastically. Octavio extended a hand to him to help him to his feet, and the older man accepted it gratefully. However, much to the speedster’s confusion, he didn’t release it right away. The speedster’s brows furrowed and he tried to tug his hand back to him, but when he looked into the man’s face, he saw a similar look of mischief in his eye. It made a shiver run down his spine. “But you do realize that disturbing me from my nap isn’t something I’m going to let slide, ay?”

Octane paled and only increased his efforts to yank his arm back to him. Thankfully, Rampart was still nearby, and she saved the day by giving the explosives expert another poke to the side. Walter yelped and jumped away from the touch, allowing both her and Octavio to scramble away. Fuse watched them go but, instead of chasing after them, he returned to his seat on the couch. He chuckled to himself; for now, he was going to return to his well deserved nap. But, when he woke up, ole Fusey was going to start some trouble...in more ways than one.

I was pretty nervous to post this since it's a little bit shorter than my usual fics, but the length of this one just felt 'right' when I finished writing and reread it. This is also my first time writing for Fuse and I'm still working on getting his character down, especially since this was kinda an impulse write :P. Anyways, I hope you liked the story.

#fuse apex legends #fuse #rampart apex legends #rampart #octane #octane apex legends #walter fitzroy #ramya parekh #octavio silva #ticklish!fuse #ticklish!fusey #ticklish!walterfitzroy #ticklish!walter #ticklish!fitzroy #apex legends tickle fic #apex legends

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mmvalentine · 3 years

Text

Home is Where You Are pt 1 | Feysand

Girl next door AU. Part 2 now up.

Rhys hadn’t seen Feyre in over ten years. It was strange for him to think about, because they had always been so close. They had grown up next door to each other, and had been best friends as children. As they got older, Rhys had flown into fits of jealous rage when Feyre suddenly had a hundred other friends and he was left behind. Then there was that one night, when they were thirteen and camping out in the Archerons' back yard, and giggling in the tent, they had decided to find out what all the fuss was about kissing.

They had leaned in, pressed their lips together, and held their breath. Five seconds went by, and then Feyre pulled back, laughing.

“It’s kind of... wet,” she had said, wiping her mouth of the back of her hand. But Rhys been too stunned to say anything. He followed Feyre’s lead as she lay back in her sleeping bag and launched into a story about a particularly annoying boy at school, and Rhys had pretended to listen. But all the while, his fists were clenched tight at his side, as he fought to get in control of the strange, hot sensation that had started where Feyre’s mouth touched his and had somehow pooled in his stomach like lava. More troublingly, it was moving further south, and the young teenage Rhys was baffled by the apparent autonomy the lower part on his anatomy had lately been growing.

And then the next day Feyre’s mother had a stroke in the kitchen, and hadn’t survived the ambulance ride. And her father, grief stricken and barely functional, and up and moved the whole family to the other side of the country to avoid any reminder of his dead wife. Hadn’t actually managed to sell the house, just abandoned it and let it sit empty and decay over the years. And Rhys, Rhys was left alone with his drunk, bitter father, and he never got to tell Feyre that he was sorry her mother had died, that he knew exactly what it felt like and wanted to be there for her, that he was pretty sure he loved her with all of his thirteen year old heart.

Over the next decade, Rhys’ father got older but not more sober. His arm weakened, thankfully, although his aim somehow never did. Rhys cared for him the best he could until he died- liver failure of course- and then up and moved to the city using the money from his fathers estate. There was a surprisingly large amount of money for the frequency with which Rhys had been fed hot meals as a kid.

He had looked Feyre up on social media, but she was working as an artist now and her photos were all of her work, very rarely with her in them. He had wanted to message so many times, but when he saw how well she was doing, it hadn’t seemed right. Not when he felt like a stark reminder of such a bad time in her life.

And then her father had passed away, leaving them both orphans, and she had reached out to him.

By email, for chrissake. Like some kind of professional courtesy.

Hi Rhys,

Long time no see. I’m guess you’ve head the news by now. Cancer, in the end. But I think he was sort of waiting to die for a long time. Anyway, Nesta and Elain have pretty much checked out of the situation, and so I’ve taken over the big job- selling the old house. My sisters basically said just do it and send us the money.

The upshot is, I’ll be travelling back to the old neighbourhood in about a week. I know it’s been forever, but you lived in that house most as much as we did. I was wondering if you wanted to come down and hang out, before we sell it. I’ve been talking to realtors and I’ll probably be there just a few days, and then leave it to them. I don’t know how any of this works to be honest.

You’re welcome to come with me if you want, but no pressure.

Feyre

Rhys had written back straight away, and before he knew it he was on a plane. Back to that sad little suburb, with its malignant houses and crumpled people. To his father's house, where there were cracks in the wall that Rhys' younger bones had bade. To the Archeron home, where he had found refuge after the old man had passed out, drunk.

To Feyre.

He had no idea what to expect. Had spent the whole flight full to the brim of jitters, and wondering what it would be like to see her again, and cursing himself for letting it get this far and then to not have been the one to reach out first.

And then his feet marched themselves down the crooked streets, knowing where to go instinctively, so before he knew it he was standing before his old house. And hers.

Actually being there was like a punch in the gut. Rhys suddenly felt eight years old again, and even the anticipation of how his old house smelled had nausea rolling in his gut. He didn't think he'd be so affected by it. He wondered if anyone had moved into the house- there were no cars or toys in the front yard, but the garden wasn't overgrown. Not like the Archeron house.

His old neighbour's place looked terrible. Mould was growing over the peeling paint, a few of the windows in the front were cracked, and weeds reigned over the garden. So different from when the girls had lived here, and Elain had been so dilligent with her botanical care.

Rhys remained in silent contemplation for another minute or so, and then, taking him quite by surprise, the front door opened. And there stood Feyre.

Rhys eyes threatened to throw themselves out of their sockets. He worked to keep his jaw shut, and his heart squeezed painfully in his chest at the sight of her.

Feyre was gorgeous.

Little girl Feyre had white blonde hair, skinny arms, and blue bug-eyes. Little boy Rhys had loved her exactly how she was, and had thought she was the most perfect person in the world.

Grown up Feyre was astounding.

Her hair had darkened to the colour of gold and honey, and now curled gently over her shoulders. Her frame had filled out to accommodate softly curving hips and a modest cleavage. She had grown into her eyes, the delicate grey-blue of them like rain-clouds on the horizon. Rhys had been waiting and waiting to meet Feyre again, but this... this was ridiculous.

Since leaving his father's house, Rhys had to admit he spent a lot of time on his body. He never wanted to feel so weak as when he was six years old and unable to protect his mother from his father's rage. Thankfully, as a teenager he started to pile on muscle quite easily. And then after moving out, he made sure to tattoo over the scars on his chest so that his father had no say over what his skin looked like.

And yet now he felt tiny again, and devastated that this Feyre was completely out of his league. He didn't know what to say to her.

Turned out, he didn't have to.

"Rhys!" Feyre said, seeing him standing there. She crossed the yard in a few strides, and before he got so much as a 'hello' out, Feyre had wrapped her arms around him. The smell of her neck right under his nose floored him. She pulled back, with her hands still on him.

"Rhys, I can't believe you're here!" Feyre looked him up and down, and laughed. "Well you got big, huh?"

God, her laugh. He didn't remember it being so musical.

"Hey Feyre," he said out loud. "I'm sorry about your dad." Feyre squeezed his arms. "Thanks. And thank you for coming. It's really good to see you." "It's good to see you," Rhys said. "I'm so sorry it's taken so long." "Well, we're here now," Feyre said, and in that moment Rhys was determined to never let her get that far away from him again.

"So how have you been?" Rhys started to ask. But at that moment, the door opened again, and a man with a blonde man-bun stepped out. He looked like one of those surfer dudes Rhys had never liked.

"Babe," he said. "There's definitely termites in there. It's gonna lower the price point for sure."

Rhys stared. Babe?

Feyre rolled her eyes. "Great, just add it to the list."

It was then that the man noticed Rhys. He extended a hand.

"Hey buddy, I'm Tamlin," he said. "Hey... buddy," Rhys replied tersely. Feyre jumped in. "Tamlin, this is Rhys, he used to live next door when we were kids." Feyre put her hand on Tamlin's arm, and smiled a heartbreaking smile at him.

"Rhys, this is Tamlin. My fiancé."

****

So okay, it has been one week since I hit tumblr and spewed my story telling guts all over you lovely, sweet, kind people.

I know you connected really well with Lockdown Lovers, and it seems maybe a bit less well with Circus of Dreams? So I am throwing out one more AU, a little darker this time. I will keep posting CoD, but please let me know what you think and what you guys want to read.

Anyway I have been uploading manically over the last 7 days and at the moment I feel like I'm bombarding you with my filthy daydreams, so I'm going to try very hard to take a couple days off writing and let people actually read the damn things!

Finally, thank you so, so much for the support and love. I've been using this place to escape from personal problems and you have been outstanding. Hopefully in a few days I'll post at a more reasonable rate and from a better head space.

Thank you, lovers.

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-babies

#feysand #feysand fic #acotar #acomaf #acosf #rhysand #mine

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katsukikitten · 4 years

Text

Part 2! Here is Part 1 f you have yet to read it! I hope you enjoy my little Walmart brand of summer wars as much as I am writing it! Let me know what you think!

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The two of you leave with a small bow before your grandmother answers the phone.

The second you are out of the room Bakugou grabs you roughly by the wrist, pulling you down into the small dimly lit hallway to press you against the dark wooden wall, caging you in much like he did on the train.

But this time with malintent. Small pops ring out from his forearms, one hand threatening to char the wood beside your head while the other grips your wrist harder.

You could understand his anger, it's not as if you had been truthful to Bakugou. He detests liars and although you didn't necessarily lie to him you still told him a half truth. He was still figuring out which was worse.

"Fucking fiance?!" He snarls close to your face, "Deal's off."

You had planned to allow him to bitch and moan about the shitty situation you put him in without argument.

But his refusal to act semi decent towards you for the sake of your grandmother's old heart had rage burning hot in your veins.

It wasn't like you were asking him to fuck you. With a tick in your jaw you drop your precious Kimono. Grabbing onto his chin with your free hand, tilting his face closer to yours to have a better look at those stunning crimson eyes. They widen from both the force of your grip and the proximity of your lips. He swallows thickly, his glare slowly coming back.

"Listen here Bakugou Katsuki. I'm asking you to pretend to be my fiance for two weeks. I'm asking for small shit like sitting close to me, maybe giving a small smile in my direction and at the most hand holding. I'm not asking you to fucking marry me or fuck me in front of my family. My grandmother is a bit old fashioned if you couldn't tell by the house or her demeanor, she has been hounding me about bringing a man to her for approval since I was 16. She wanted to make sure I had a man that deserved me, that I would be taken care of. So I've made up boyfriend after boyfriend since I've never really had time for more than a good fuck but my Uncle called me last winter to tell me her health was beginning to decline and rapidly at that. I called her immediately and told her I had just become engaged and she'd meet him on her birthday. So you've got two choices Katsuki." You let every syllable of his name soak in sugar coated venom, "Suck it up for two fucking weeks and be semi decent to me or break my grandmother's heart and earn a dangerous enemy."

Bakugou's heart pounded in his chest the entire time you were ranting, unsure of why he was attracted to the hard set of your eyes and the ice in your voice. His stomach flips when you say his first name causing him to grind his teeth. He breaks away from your grip with his free hand, quickly pinning your arms above your head. Locking your delicate yet deadly wrists in one of his broad hands while the other presses against your hip bone. Thumb sliding through the loop of your too short shorts, bringing your pelvis to his. The denim was barely able to contain your ass and thick thighs, he is surprised none of your elders have scolded you for such indecency if they were as old fashioned as you say.

The faint blush on your cheeks and the defiant look in your eyes has his voice turn husky as he speaks.

"I should make you regret bringing me here. Maybe have you begging for something else." His lips a breath away as he presses his forehead to yours. Eyes molten with what you think is lust before he tilts his face. Amplifying the sudden magnetism between your plump lips and his own. Your chest tightens with mixed emotions as your eyes begin to flutter closed.

Suddenly he changes direction and gives you a harsh headbutt, hard enough your vision blurs at the edges causing you to growl in response.

"This better not fucking bruise."

He rolls his eyes, dropping your hands as he reaches down for the old Kimino. His heart racing from almost losing control of these odd feelings.

Feelings that had never been aimed towards you until your grandmother stirred them up.

"Would you die for my granddaughter?"

The question drives him mad, mad enough that he places the kimono in your hands speaking the dark thought that he should have fucking kept to himself.

"Did you actually drag me along for your grandmother's sake or did you just want the kimono, Princess?" His voice is all bite, holding your gaze, your eyes widening.

"Don't call me that." Your voice threatens to crack but he walks away before he can see the rest of your reaction to wander the house for his room until dinner.

You're left standing there, eyes glued to the fabric, the deep navy blue and hand stitched cranes and lotus blur in your hands. Before fat droplets fall from your eyes.

Why did you ever think Bakugou Katsuki would be a good partner, fake or not.

You collect yourself quickly, angrily swiping at your eyes before you set to find your normal room.

It doesn't take you long and you're honestly hoping Bakugou stays lost until dinner. His room should be on the opposite wing of the house. Opening the old tatami door to find Mei setting down your stuff and Bakugou's bag. Mei follows your eyes to the well worn backpack with a skull pin on the strap. She knew exactly who it belonged to when she picked it up, having spotted the handsome devil from the hall.

"Mei what's this you know he's supposed to be in the western wing!" You exclaim, trudging past her to hang your kimono on the old rack in the corner of the room. Mei scoffs, eyes glued to her phone as she speaks.

"He was bound to sneak this way anyway. I'm doing you a favor." She rolls her eyes as if she knows everything at the ripe age of sixteen.

You thought you knew everything then too. You sigh, rolling your own eyes.

"What you call a favor I call a headache. Just take his bag to his room." You pass the straps to her, hating that it smells so much like him. Your stomach flips even as you look at the two person futon.

"Just sleep with him tonight no one will know! Plus I hadn't cleaned his room. It's full of spider webs, the floor needs patching and his futon is gonna be dusty." She counters.

"B..but one futon is not modest."

"Wow please tell me you're not a virgin jushi. You're gonna get married anyway! I know I wouldn't have said no to a catch like that either!"

Mei makes her way out of your room while you pinch the bridge or your nose.

"Yea…. Why would I ever say no to such a great catch?" You fall backwards onto the futon hoping that that asshole was still lost for now.

Someone would find him wandering and take him to the great dining room.

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Thankfully someone does end up showing Bakugou to the dining room but of course it would be Mei who also tells him where the SHARED room is. You bite your lip and choose to play dumb.

"Oh good you found your way, babe." You smile sinking next to him on one of the many blue cushions. He grunts in response but pulls your cushion closer to his. Carefully pouring you some water before he yanks down your tank top that was riding up and trying to expose your midriff. His fingers feel like fire as they brush against your skin, igniting a dying ember in your stomach.

You quickly remind yourself of his nasty comment, as you're about to set him straight your cousin Haru walks into the room. He sucks his teeth and sits further down the table across from his sister Mei as people slowly come in to sit or bring in food.

"I don't know why you bothered to bring him here. Sobo is never going to approve of him." He cracks open his beer and drinks prematurely earning an eye roll from his sister. Bakugou and yourself both open your mouth to retort when Mei pipes up. Eyes still glued to her phone as her thumbs fly across the illuminated glass.

"She already did stupid. She gave her the crane Kimono so get used to seeing his face." Mei rolls her eyes as your cheeks blush.

Bakugou regrets his comment now more than ever but sucks his own teeth. An older gentleman sits to Bakugou's left commenting on the conversation as he does.

"Wow the crane kimono! You know she's been holding onto that for quite some time. You must be very special. I'm Sozen, your lovely fiance's Uncle." He smiles, just as you're about pinch the blonde to make sure he answers he gives a small bow of his head.

"Bakugou Katsuki." He introduces himself as aunt Mai rushes into the room.

"Wait, wait! I want to meet him!" She sinks next to your right, all smiles as her eyes are fixated on the young man, "Wow he is as handsome as you said on the phone last night."

Fresh blush creeps onto your cheeks, remembering the phone conversation from when you were too nervous to sleep last night. Bakugou catches on and smirks in response. Everyone but Sobo takes their seats and you decide now is a good time as ever to get the formalities over with.

"Let's just get through the introductions shall we?" You say as you run through the names of each family member on both sides of the three low tables shoved together. Introducing the hot head to well over 12 adults and their children and even children's children. For now Bakugou only makes an effort to remember the ones closest to him.

Uncle Sozen who sits to his left and Aunt Mai who sits to your right. It's becoming quickly apparent that a lot of your family is either much older or much younger than yourself. He can understand why you could feel a little lonely at times. Being more of a black sheep than anything. Then he realises something very important.

"Wait, where are your parents?" He asks lowly to which you shrug.

"They show up closer to grandma's birthday. They are both extremely busy and always have been. Soba more or less raised me."

As if one cue grandmother comes in, looking over the table with the biggest and warmest smile she can muster. It reminds him of the summer sun lazily dancing across his skin in the late afternoon.

And again it reminds him of you. He looks to you and sees you mirroring the exact same smile, happy for your grandmother's happiness causing his chest to tighten and butterflies to awaken in his stomach. He grinds his teeth in an attempt to calm them down.

She sits at the head of the table, closest to Great Oba who he had the pleasure of meeting first thing, before grandmother holds up her small cup of sake.

"To family." She announces, everyone lifts what cup they have, whether it was a kids small sippy cup, their o-choko, or even their cup of tea.

"To family!" They roar back to her all taking a sip.

"Let's eat." She says while the family cries out, "Itadakimasu!"

The tables are loud and full of conversation. Although Katuski's family is not so big, the volume reminds him of his own family. A small smirk comes to his lips as he thinks of his mother and how she would fit in here.

"So no Shoji?" Haru asks with a sneer, almost purposefully stirring the pot.

"No surprise there." Someone else comments.

"Shut. Up. Haru." You bite out, look fierce as if you were to devour him whole. He swallows thickly.

"Great uncle Kodaka tell us about that battle we won here!" You change the subject and everyone groans as Kodaka starts the story they've heard thousands of times before.

"It was almost 150 years ago, when we were still a prosperous nation. Us samarai doing fine on our own. Hired by the wealthy or living by our own moral compass. It was like fish in a barrel…"

The story continues on, mostly the children listen and your grandmother who smiles as she hears her youngest speak.

Sozen leans closer to Bakugou, as grey eyes hold onto scarlet. Bakugou remains quiet, glancing to you and then back to the uncle. Uncle Sozen takes this as an invitation to speak.

"I guess since you're gonna be part of the family now I should tell you about Shoji. There was a time shortly before Grandpa died that he went down a dark path, gambling away majority of the family fortune and just when grams thought she had him under control then came Shoji.He was Grandpa's illegitimate child with a woman much younger than Sobo. But she loved Shoji fiercely anyway. She would take him through the field of wildflowers to the lake in the early mornings of summer. One hot day when he was small and the sun was rising, painting the sky in hues of red there was a crane. Our family's crest." Uncle Sozen points to the wooden crest above the door to the adjacent room that held the family's artifacts. A crane stands tall with a white lotus behind it in full bloom.

"It was the first time in decades that a crane had come to the lake and the lotus were in full bloom. He flew away, causing a gentle ripple in the lake and it was then Sobo knew that Shoji would bring fortune to our family." Sozen peeks your way to make sure you're not over hearing, he continues explaining softly as your loud laugh bellows out, "Everyone is so angry with him because he took the last of grandmother's savings and then ran away to America with no way to be contacted."

"She is quick to defend him because she was too young to really remember how much it upset Sobo. That and she believed in him wholeheartedly. She looked up to him because despite his quirklessness he was exceptionally intelligent. She had faith that he would restore honor and fortune to our name." Sozen's chopsticks point to you as he speaks before he picks up a dumpling. Bakugou's eyes follow over you.

"Hello Sobo." A deep voice calls from the engawa reducing the lively roar of dinner conversation to nothing more than the sad song of a lonely cricket.

"Uncle Shoji?!" You call excited, standing from your spot at the long table while the rest of the room holds animosity.

Bakugou downs his sake to which Uncle Sozen silently refills.

"I thought you were still abroad in the states!" You sink next to him and pull him into a crushing hug. He smiles, slowly separating the two of you.

"What the hell do you want trash?!" Uncle Kodaka snarls, to which you produce a deadly glare his way.

"Well yes I was in the states, thank you for asking Princess." He tucks a stay hair behind your ear before rising to speak with grandmother.

He does not address her properly nor does he bow. If anything he stands loosely with an arrogance about him that leaves majority of the room with a sour taste in their mouth. Bakugou watches Great Oba's chopsticks strain in her delicate hand, the distaste for him is becoming more and more obvious by the second.

And then he opens his mouth.

"I made tenfold out of what you let me borrow, Soba." He pulls a stack of money and a check from his pocket as he speaks, "I made a drug to make people powerless and sold it to the highest bidder."

Eyes around the room widen as news headlines flash in their heads about a new drug that made people quirkless. Villains shooting innocent bystanders and heroes in hopes of getting a leg up.

Shoji tosses the money and the check onto grandmother's lap. Dark brown eyes stare into her lap for a long moment.

Suddenly grandmother moves like an agile cat, jumping to her feet and grabbing for one of the divine naginata. She wields it masterfully before shoving the point towards him, fire burning in her eyes.

"Mother!" Half the table shouts, as you begin to see red. You stand stepping next to Shoji, body shaking with rage as your heart drums in your ears.

"I knew my Princess would save me." He says coyly to hide just how shaken he is, sweat dripping down his brow. Even ten years your senior he couldn't hide his fear of the fierce woman before him, shocked that a woman in her nineties could still brandish such a big and heavy weapon.

Your hands land harshly on Shoji's chest as you give him a shove. Shocking the table into further silence.

"YOU MADE THAT?!" Your voice echoes over the dining room, into the empty halls and out into the night but somehow the hurt in it does not reach Shoji.

"Of course, it was going to be a hot seller. Governments offered me billions. Besides I made an anti...." But before he can finish you've got him by the collar.

"HOW CAN YOU BE SO INTELLIGENT YET SO DAFT?!" Bakugou watches your knuckles turn white while your cheeks flush deep red. Shoji barely frees himself, his shirt crumpled but you press on.

"Those were my friends!" A stomp of your foot has the dishes rattling on the table, Bakugou becomes more on edge, "You hurt my fucking friends!"

You raise both of your fists above your head, ready to bring them down with all of your might. Too angry to control your gauge of power uncaring of the consequences. Katuski acts quickly, flicking his wrist to empty the shallow cup of sake high into the air. Igniting it into beautiful dancing fireworks, the kids oo and ah while he hopes to distract you if only for a moment.

It works, slightly. You realize his plan as he jumps to his feet, running along the low tables as you try to beat him to the punch.

Literally.

Bakugou barely makes it, shoving Shoji into the table, food and dishes fly into the air just to stain the freshly mopped wooden floors. The hot head holds out his other arm to take the brunt of your force. He let's off the smallest explosion to soften your blow but a small crack still rings out.

Heated eyes watch as a black bruise blooms from the crease of his elbow to all the way to his wrist as the shock shakes the house behind him. Paintings and pictures fall from the walls in the wake of your force.

"Are you trying to bring down the house dumbass?!" He yells before his voice dips low, soft almost, "What if the roof had caved and Soba-san got hurt?"

Your eyes widen at his words before they are locked with glistening scarlet pools. You look over Bakugou's toned arm, marred in angry shades of purplish black. Eyes darting over the family and the mess that lies beside you. Finally they fall on your grandmother behind your shoulder. Her own aged shoulders heave from the adrenaline, her graying white hair out of place with her lotus pin threatening to fall out. You spy Shoji, your once hero still squishing food beneath his torso and elbows, eyes filled with fear.

"Fuck this." You mutter storming off, leaving Bakugou to stand alone before your family. Shoji stands, rushing out of the house, moments later everyone can hear a car peeling down the gravel drive losing traction once or twice.

After a few moments of silence grandmother fixes her hair and returns the naginata as she speaks.

"This family cleans up their own messes. Now get to work!"

And with that your family and Bakugou begin to pick up the shattered pieces of dishes, pride and family matters.

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shera-dnd · 3 years

Link

I told you I was gonna write a fic based on it and here it is! Inspired by this fantastic piece from @kurokaneart

A pretty short story in which Weiss did not fall at the end of Volume 8, and after years of wandering Vacuo alone, she finally gets a shot at avenging her team

That design deserved a fight scene to match it and I hope I delivered on it

It had been two years.

Two years since Atlas fell from the sky.

Two years since the relics had been lost.

Two years since so many people were lost to the void.

Weiss had been alone for two gods damned years.

It was still fresh on her mind, the day her friends fell to their doom. How one by one they were swallowed by the abyss, and she had been powerless to save them. How she herself almost met the same fate, had she not been saved by her sister at the last possible moment. A sister who now carried the mantle of the Winter Maiden, passed down from yet another dead friend.

So it was no surprise to anyone that Weiss had been in a state of shock for the following few days. In fact she wasn’t even sure how long that lasted as she hadn’t been fully aware of the passage of time as her heart struggled with all it had lost.

What surprised them was when she left.

The reasonable thing to do after all that happened would have been to stick with her surviving friends, work together and do everything they could to make sure they wouldn’t lose anyone else. But Weiss wasn’t in a reasonable mood. She was grieving the loss of her family - her real family - and she couldn’t bear the notion of just replacing them, of being a part of anything besides Team RWBY.

So she wandered the deserts that surrounded Vacuo, fighting bandits, slaying grimm, all while doing all she could to keep the memory of her team alive. All while carving herself into a walking memorial to those she lost.

In time she was forced to adapt to the desert. Crying was a waste of precious water, as was cleaning her unreasonably long hair, so in time her tears dried up and her hair was cut short. Soon heels gave way to sensible combat boots, and her dress was replaced by proper armor. Months of constant physical exercise and her new fighting style had also led to changes even to her body shape, leaving her more muscular than she ever thought she could be.

Part of her couldn’t help but worry that this meant that Weiss had died with her teammates, that whoever walked Vacuo now was some other woman wearing her face. So still she latched onto scraps of her older self. The lovely blue of her favorite dress now lived on in her cape, bound to her by a metal clasp bearing her family’s symbol. Her earrings too remained, even if they brought her the wrong kind of attention from time to time.

And so the months passed and Weiss continued her travels, hunting down Salem’s followers wherever she found them. Even getting to take her anger out on a certain scorpion bastard, though she knew he was just one more piece in some impossibly large scheme to end the world.

Now two years had passed since the Fall of Atlas and once more Weiss found herself at the entrance to a relic vault as yet another huntsmen academy came under attack. This time though, she stood alone, waiting for the one person she had spent two years looking forward to seeing again.

“Well well well, here I thought I’d never have to see your face again,” Cinder’s disgustingly smug tone echoed through the underground chamber as her silhouette appeared by its entrance, “what was it that those friends of yours called you again, Ice Queen?”

Cinder had changed a lot in these past couple of years. Once again she donned a new outfit for her new environment, this one echoing some of her choices from her old student disguise back at Beacon. Though the change that actually caught Weiss’s eye was her grimm arm. She no longer bothered hiding it as the cancerous growth had now spread to cover not only her entire arm but parts of her chest and neck. Weiss wouldn’t be surprised if she found that her heart too had become grimm.

Her attitude, unfortunately, stayed the same.

“Love the new look, by the way,” she mocked, “I could almost believe you’re not just a Schnee brat.”

Weiss’s fists clenched, but she did not bother with a response. She knew how Cinder worked, she played dirty and messed with people’s heads, so the less fuel Weiss gave her the better. Instead she just cracked her neck, stretched her sword arm and called on her semblance.

A summoning glyph appeared behind her, but this time none of her defeated foes stepped out to defend her, instead frost covered her arms, slowly shaping itself into spectral white armor. She extended a hand forward and in it began to form a massive sword, pointing towards her enemy in challenge.

She was about to take down a maiden.

“Cute trick,” Cinder commented, her steps echoing as she casually walked down the chamber, “I wonder where you got it from.”

To make her point she extended her hands and a pair of swords formed in them with a flash of heat. The implication that Weiss had anything to thank Cinder for, was unfortunately enough to prompt her to speak.

“Are you always so full of--”

With a burst of flames Cinder had launched for Weiss’s throat, the glass blade nearly connecting with the huntress’s neck in that moment of distraction, before Weiss could stumble backwards and out of the way. Cinder continued to push though, strike after strike backing Weiss against the vault’s doors, never allowing her to recover her balance.

Weiss grunted as a kick to the stomach sent her reeling back against those doors. Cinder dashed for her again, but this time she was prepared. Pushing off the door with one arm she slammed an armored hand on Cinder’s chest - a small propulsion glyph appearing in her palm - and launched the maiden backwards with incredible force.

Another glyph then took shape under Weiss, sending her flying up in an arc, plunging at Cinder, ready to cut her down. The maiden simply rolled aside and jumped up before the attack could connect. Once more their blades clashed, but this time it was Weiss’s turn to take the offensive.

Back in her Beacon days, Weiss would dance across the battlefield with the precision and grace of a ballerina. Though much of said grace had been lost over the years, she still saw her fighting style as a dance of sorts, no longer a balle, but a waltz between her and her greatsword, and now Cinder found herself caught in the path of these deadly dance partners.

Weiss pushed her back with each step, advancing with every slice and spin of her sword until they found themselves once more at the center of the room. She dipped her dance partner, striking its pommel to Cinder’s human wrist and making her sword drop. She spun on her heels aiming to slice off that grimm arm, but once again their blades clashed. Cinder’s human hand flew for the grip of her remaining sword, pushing Weiss’s summoned blade with all her might.

Usually that wouldn’t work. Between her stronger physique and the Arma Gigas’s armor she could easily power through most attempts at simply blocking her attacks like this, but of course it wouldn’t be that easy. The grimm maiden was inhumanly strong after all and kept Weiss’s sword at bay with ease.

“I must say, I’m impressed,” Cinder commented, a chuckle escaping her throat as she watched Weiss struggle to match her strength, “but don’t fool yourself. We both know you’re nothing on your own.”

With that, Weiss snapped.

A propulsion glyph formed behind her, shoving her forward and adding its force to the clash. It wasn’t enough to push Cinder back, but it was enough to do something even better.

A loud crack echoed throughout the chamber as Cinder’s glass swords shattered under the intense pressure. She forged new ones from thin air, but Weiss was quick to crush those too. There were no more attempts at grace, no more dancing, no more technique or skill, just deadly force as the room was filled with the sounds of crushing glass and Weiss’s shouts, her sword slamming down again and again like a blunt instrument.

This, of course, was exactly what Cinder wanted. Her grimm arm caught Weiss’s sword with ease and a jet of flame from her mouth made the huntress stumble and fall. Casually she crushed the sword in her hand and sauntered her way to her disarmed opponent.

Weiss rose to her knees and another summoning glyph appeared before her, producing a much needed replacement sword. But before she could reach for it a fireball incinerated the glyph and the sword with it.

“This was cute,” Cinder mocked, not even bothering with any swords anymore, simply raising her hand and preparing to fireball Weiss out of existence, “but I think it’s time we put an end to it.”

It was that look. That tone in her voice like she had already won, like her defeat was never even a possibility. It was that smug attitude that gave Weiss every motivation she needed to keep fighting to the bitter end, just to show her that the last remnant of team RWBY wasn’t about to lie down and accept death.

Thankfully, team RWBY still had her back.

She launched forward and slammed an armored fist against that stupid smirk of hers. The look of absolute shock on that bitch’s face was more than enough of a reward on its own, but Weiss still had more for her.

Taking a boxing stance Weiss planted punch after punch on Cinder’s body, every jab and every dodge aided by her propulsion glyphs. Her fast movement kept Cinder on her toes as she was slammed over and over again.

With a cry of rage Cinder unleashed her maiden powers, sending Weiss flying backwards with a powerful gust of wind, but the huntress was not so easily intimidated. Another glyph caught her and launched back at her foe. Cinder smirked and raised her grimm arm. She was more than happy to capitalize on Weiss’s foolhardiness by shooting her out of the air with another ball of flames.

Unfortunately for the mad maiden, Weiss was no fool.

Another glyph appeared under her and sent her flying upwards, completely avoiding Cinder’s attack and sending spinning over her foe with the grace of a gymnast. Weiss had barely landed behind her before bashing Cinder once more, putting all her force into a single punch that sent her flying.

She knew she couldn’t waste time, she couldn’t let the maiden recover. So she called upon a massive summoning glyph and while that one prepared to unleash its fury, a smaller one appeared on Weiss’s palm. From the small glyph shot the hooked stinger of a Queen Lancer, it pierced Cinder’s grimm arm causing her to scream in pain. Then with all her strength Weiss pulled her down to the ground.

No, not the ground. She pulled her down into the waiting maw of a Giant Nevermore. The summon swallowed her whole and flew up, readying itself to dive down, slamming them both to the ground with deadly force.

Still it was not enough.

The Nevermore burst into flames as fire spewed from Cinder’s hands, feet, and mouth. The look of smug superiority on the maiden’s face now replaced with one of pure primal fury, blade after blade after blade were forged around her with a flash of her terrifying power. That...wasn’t good.

Weiss felt her hands shake and her eyes closed.

All of that, and all she managed to do was make her angry.

Two years training and preparing for this confrontation, and she still couldn’t do anything.

She couldn’t stop Cinder. She couldn’t avenge her friends, and now the last member of her team would die to her hand like all the rest.

No.

No! No!

Her team was gone, but they were still protecting her, still doing everything they could to let her keep fighting. She wasn’t gonna let her efforts and their sacrifice be in vain. She would keep fighting, and she would take Cinder down once and for all.

When she opened her eyes a glyph had taken form under her, but this one was different from the rest, for instead of her family’s snowflake, this one had the shape of a ticking clock. A haste glyph. And as it began to take effect on her body, two more summoning glyphs appeared before her. And from them Weiss drew a pair of shorter swords.

Cinder’s barrage of explosive weaponry came raining down on the huntress, but now she was prepared. With her speed vastly increased she struck forward with her twin blades, slicing down weapon after weapon with her aura, trying to find an opening through the chaos. Taking the first chance she got she crossed her blades and brought them down with all her might, shaping her aura into an X and sending it flying through Cinder’s attack.

First came a disgusting wet sound as the grimm arm was sliced cleanly off, then came the screams. Cinder cried and contorted in agony in mid air, more and more smoke rose from her wound with each passing moment, while her arm began to regrow.

That was it. That was the moment. Weiss just had to close the gap and--!

Pain wracked every muscle of her body, bringing her down to her knees. Her haste glyph had worn off, now her body burned from the overexertion, and a wave of lethargy drained all the strength from her body.

That moment of weakness was all Cinder needed to recover. She growled and with another grand display of might, she reached with her power for every last broken fragment of glass that littered the floor and set them ablaze.

Weiss had no means to escape that one.

It was as if the entire chamber had been carpet bombed, the myriad explosions tossing Weiss around like a ragdoll until she was unceremoniously dropped to the ground, dizzy, sore, exhausted. Still she pushed herself off up with all she had left.

Her summoned armor had been completely destroyed, her cape was in ruins, she was covered in soot, and her aura was barely holding it together. Proper tactics would require her to retreat, stay on the defensive, and wait to recover before taking the offense again. Weiss knew she had no such luxury.

Her only chance of survival was to finish Cinder before she had the chance to finish her. So she drew on every last scrap of energy she had left in her body and threw it all into one single desperate plan to end that monster for good.

She forced herself to stand and threw her hand forward, a black gravity glyph forming under the maiden. It pulled her down to the ground with force, but that was far from enough to keep her down. Storm winds filled the chamber, almost knocking Weiss off her feet again, weakening her glyph just enough to let Cinder stand up again.

Weiss threw her other hand and a pair of summoned Centinels emerged from the ground, wrapping themselves around their target, and dragging her back down. Cinder snarled and growled like an animal, slicing at them with her grimm claw and breathing out jets of flame.

Weiss knew they wouldn’t be able to lock her in place for long, so she quickly put the next part of her plan into motion. Another propulsion glyph formed under her and a summon glyph above. The first sent her flying through the second and she emerged on the other side, not with armor, but with a pair of spectral white wings.

Flying up as high as she could, her wings spread at the apex of her flight, holding her in place for one last moment so she could line up one final dive against her prey. One last time the Arma Gigas’s sword took shape in her hand and her wings closed around her.

She spun around her axis as her body plummeted with terrifying speed, the ground approaching her almost too fast for her to react, but right as she was about to collide, her wings spread out and for one glorious moment she was a whirlwind of death, slicing through Cinder with a spinning slash.

And for the first time in years, Cinder’s aura cracked. Blood poured out from a single long gash across her back and she collapsed to the ground. Weiss followed soon after.

She did it.

No, they did it.

Her friends had been avenged. Cinder had fallen. Weiss could finally rest.

That was all she needed right now, to just lie down, close her eyes, and get her well earned rest. The floor beneath her was hard and cold, but she didn’t mind it at all. She was so tired and this was just what she needed.

…

“Weiss!”

“Please wake up!”

“Weiss, please stay with us!”

Huh, she must have fallen asleep there on the floor. She was having that dream again. That dream where all her friends were still alive.

“Jaune, you have to help her!”

What other explanation would she have for this? For these familiar voices, for those warm touches, for the sight of silver eyes hovering just above her.

“Come on! Come on! Come on! Heal damn it!”

It was a nice dream. The kind of dream she didn’t want to wake up from.

So she closed her eyes again and drifted back to sleep...

#RWBY #weiss schnee #cinder fall #weiss schnee vs cinder fall #fight scene #weiss did not fall #ruby rose #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #jaune arc #feels #major character death

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ninjakasuga · 3 years

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Sonally Celebration Week! Year Three, Day Six: Rescue

Sonally Celebration Week, Year Three, Day Six: Rescue

Day six, and admittedly the toughest piece to write since well, action scenes require more finesse than a domestic/slice of life story. The journey continues, and since my main focus mostly centers on Sonic and Sally’s post Robotnik/Eggman war peace time lives, I like to flex different events when the prompts give way to good inspiration. When one has to do with rescuing, well, let’s just say, if you’re dumb enough to harm someone’s children, woe comes to you in waves.

Day Six: Rescue.

It was supposed to have been a nice, pleasant day. Go to Spagonia with your big bro and his wife, enjoy flying in a fancy transport ship. While Sonic and Sally do the diplomatic thing, Sonia and Manic would watch J.C. and Kathy as they got to enjoy the city. See the sights, enjoy some ice cream and crepes from the city vendors, and just have a good old time! However, it wasn’t to last, the day was ruined when the sound of their ‘secret tail’ security guards crying out after being, well truthfully Sonia didn’t get to hear what exactly happened to their bodyguards (she hoped they were alive). All she heard was some muffled noise; some people screaming, and suddenly a van rolled up, and people in masks and jumpsuits grabbed and knocked them all out.

After coming too, she woke up to a bag over her head, only to have it torn off, and bright lights flashing in her face. A camera was aimed at them as some jerkoff using a voice-modulating helmet to obscure his identity was making some long list of demands and basically laid out they were collateral if those demands were not met. She tried to make everything out, but she was still groggy from waking up from whatever they used to knock her out. Manic was no better when she asked him if he gleaned anything she missed, sadly he was as groggy as she had been. She knew better than to ask the kids, clearly the six-year-olds were ‘terrified’ and wanted nothing more than to go home and jump into their parents arms.

Hell, the sixteen year old herself wanted to hug her parents just as badly. After that song and dance with the camera, all four were dragged to this cell of sorts, and left there with a guard detail. Whatever they wanted, they seemed to be serious, or at least wanted to come off that way. Her keen eye noticed some of their guards seemed unsettled. Like they were not keen they had kidnapped children. Maybe she, or Manic could use that? A little of the ol’ duo-charm to-.

“Auntie Sonia?” The small, childish voice snapped the older hedgehog out of her thoughts. Instantly her head snapped to the small child resting in her lap.

Forcing a calm smile, Sonia gently petted Kathleen’s soft auburn hair, which had blue tips at the end. Many thought it was dyed, but it was merely something that seemed to happen to both children, who inherited their Mother’s auburn tresses. Yet at the tips, bits of blue would form over time. No doubt the stubbornness of her big brother’s genes at work. Just hand to mingle with Sally’s.

“What’s up kiddo?” She asked her niece as she continued to stroke her head, and did her best to seem calm and collected. She and Manic were the adults here, they needed to be strong for these precious babies.

Green eyes look up, then over to the cell door, then back to Sonia’s own. “I wanna go home.” A simple request, but what child wouldn’t want to go home with this kind of situation abound? “Why do these guys wanna be mean to Mommy and Daddy?”

Another voice spoke up, the disdain high and snark on full. “Cuz they’re- and I quote.” Manic Hedgehog interjected, keeping his voice calm, and then upping the volume as he aimed his words at their guard. “A BUNCHA COWARDS WHO RESORT TO KIDNAPPING KIDS!!” He shouted with full malice at their captors, which made both children recoil, and his sister wince.

“Manic!” Hissed Sonia as she reached out and yanked at his ear. “Stop it! You’re just making it harder for J.C. and Kathy!” She growled at her brother, her eyes going to the door to their cell and sure enough their masked guard had turned to regard them. Thankfully he just turned away and went back to guarding.

“Well these bozos need to know what kind of d*ckless, wussies they are!” Retorted Manic, the green-dyed-furred hedgehog with a growl in his voice. Usually Manic was chill, and easy-going with a touch of mischief. He was running red right now, his niece, nephew and sister being put in danger can do that to someone. “Plus they’re f*cking idiots!”

“Manic, language!” Sonia chastised further as she covered his mouth with a hand. “Not that I disagree with you, but is antagonizing our captors the wisest idea?!”

Removing her hand from his mouth, Manic let out a dismissive snort. Yet his gaze softened some as he saw the kids were looking antsy again. “Maybe not, but seriously what kind of idiots kidnaps the Prince and Princess of a Kingdom? I mean, you want a war? Plus think of their parents, heroes of the war against the Big Robo and Big Eggy! I mean that’s a recipe for doom more than my Taco Tuesday Blowout Cookout.” The food wasn’t the issue, so much as the aftermath, but worth it in Manic’s eyes.

A small rumbling was heard and J.C. blushed as eyes rested on him. “...I’m hungry, and Uncle Manic makes great tacos.” He managed a smile, despite clearly still being scared.”

“Heheh, once we get out I’ll make us all some.” Manic promised as he lovingly scratched the back of his nephew’s ears. He did the same for Kathleen, not wanting her to feel left out. “Also, sorry about the yelling and language, I’m just pis-er-pointedly angry at the bad guys.”

“We’re ‘not’ the bad guys.” Their guard finally spoke, snorting loudly. The way he seemed to clutch his weapon and his covered tail (they seemed intent to make it hard to guess their species) twitch and move, hinted at his anger at such an accusation.

Despite having just chastised Manic for antagonizing their captors; Sonia found herself unable to not engage them. “Not from where we’re standing. Uncouth as my brother put it, he called it right. Nobody who kidnaps children are the good guys.”

“We’re not going to harm you, we’re just sending a message.” His steadfast tone, carried a firmness of whatever convictions he carried about their unknown ‘cause’.

“What sort of message? We’re kidnapping your kids, so we invite you to come kick our butts? Seriously, what else do you expect?” Sonia inquired, keeping her tone polite, hoping perhaps this guard might spill some kernel of information they could use. Then a thought occurred to her. “What happened to the bodyguards watching us? I heard them cry out, did you capture them too or did you kill them?”

“We shot them, but we didn’t shoot to kill.” The guard callously responded. “They should live.”

“Do you know that for a fact? Even a crippling gunshot can lead to death if they bleed out before they get help or the injury causes the right amount of trauma. I heard multiple muffled sounds… If they got shot multiple times that increases the chances they didn’t make it.” The magenta-dyed hedgehog stated with cold, medical fact. “They also had families, so nice job dipwad, you possibly widowed and orphaned two families.” It was petty, but seeing his body language shift and just slightly shake before firming back up gave Sonia a sense of satisfaction. “You could have used stun-blasters.”

The guard hissed back his reply, but she could tell he was trying to justify his words to himself. “You can’t silence stun-blasters.”

Rolling his eyes, Manic decided to chime in. “So you bozos prioritized not making noise, over making your little power grab as bloodless as possible.”

“If they die, our leaders will make it right, all of this has a purpose! It’s to make things better-!”

It wasn’t Sonia or Manic that cut the man off, but J.C.’s small but clearly angry voice. “So making Mr. Hunigan and Mrs. Fletcher dead is alright when you say so?” The boy’s fists clenched tightly. “They were nice people, and we know their kids, they’re our friends… you took their Dad n’ Mom from them you-you, j-jerk!”

“Gee, even the six year old can see it clear as day.” Sonia icily sneered at their captor, scooting closer she slid both her arms around her family and kept them close.

“Mommy, sh-she and Daddy are gonna find us.” Kathleen managed to speak up, wiping her eyes, like her brother managed the most fearsome glare she could. “They’ll find us and kick your butts! They’re heroes, they always save the day!”

Turning, the guard’s helmet, visor and cloth covering their mouth obscured whatever Mobian species they were. “Your parents are part of the problem! If not for the Acorn Kingdom’s meddling along with the other outsider nations, we wouldn’t need to do this!”

“Only meanies justify their actions by blaming others!” Humphed the young princess as she turned her head away, as if to utterly disregard her captor. Oh Sonia and Manic’s heart swelled.

“I gotta agree with Kathy here, sounds like blame-gaming here-.” Manic mused, only to be cut off by their clearly irate captor.

“If they hadn’t meddled with the trade tariffs making exporting goods harder, not to mention their invasive meddling with our affiliate cities-!”

A lightbulb went off in Sonia’s head. “Wait, wait, time out!” She put her hands together in the referee gesture to hopefully get a word in. “You guys are blaming them for the trade issues and the Acorn Kingdom’s presence in your sister cities? Um, dude, hoo boy, you are probably being played by whoever your leaders are.”

“Bite your tongue-!” “Okay you know what, screw that, and kids I’m sorry but-.” After giving her niece and nephew an apologetic look, she quickly sent her captor a fiery glare. “First off, F*CK you! Second, the Kingdom sent delegations to those cities BY REQUEST! The mayors asked for aid in looking into some oddities with exports from Spagonia going in and out because they realized something was hinky with the weird laws and micro-managing coming out of Spagonia’s Trade & Commerce Ministry. Any of your Minister’s calling the investigations meddling or preludes to occupation are trying to play the dodge game moron! Second of all, the tariff problem? I shouldn’t say this, but I love talking shop with my sis-in-law, and boy a lot of the issues stem from how they were set up, like someone ‘wanted’ the tariffs to cause issues and sow discord. It’s a big political set-up but my big-brained Sis likes big-brained chess and she’s onto some corruption from within Spagonia’s Trade & Commerce Ministry.”

She watched as the guard looked uneasy, and his compatriot to the far way seemed to be listening in as well and had lowered his weapon some. “That, that can’t be possible.”

Footsteps could be heard as another similarly dressed guard walked into view of the first one. “Ignore them comrade, they’re trying to unnerve you.” “What if it’s true our leaders are lying to us? Given who some of them are-.” “Shut your mouth before you give anything away!” The other, more burly guard hissed as he raised a gloved hand, poised to smack his comrade if he didn’t do as he said. With his associate cowed, he turned to the cell and pointed his weapon. “Shut your mouths or I might just have to shut it for you.”

Manic moved in front of his sister, nephew and niece, arms out. “Touch them buddy, and you and I are gonna tussle!”

“Uncle Manny don’t!” “D-don’t get hurt!” “Manny…” Sonia held the children close, but tried to soothe her brother. “Don’t, they’re clearly too deluded to listen.”

“You will see it is you who is delusional!” The burly captor spoke, with a zeal of a true-believer. “Once it’s clear your Queen and your treacherous nation are outed as the villains they are, things will become bet-.”

Suddenly the entire room rumbled, and the sound of muffled shouts, and fighting could be heard in the other room. All their captors turned toward the metal door just out of view of Sonia, Manic and the children. Suddenly the door flies off its hinges, slamming into the far guard who cried out in pain and terror as they are taken out. A familiar ‘rev up’ sound is heard and then a blue blur slams into the burly captor sending him flying. As the sounds of fists fly, another far off captor raises their weapon, only for the sound of jets to get clouder and a familiar southern drawl is heard shouting. “TAKE A NAP YA’ CREEP!” A blaster bolt is heard firing off screen. Soon a blue energy blast hits the captor, causing them to drop their weapon as the stun-bolt freezes their whole body. As another guard attempts to fight, the flying Rabbot zooms him and body-tackles the would-be-attacker, a loud, thick ‘crunch’ of metal hitting flesh is heard. Clearly a one-hit-KO.

The original guard readies their weapon, trying to pick a target, clearly panicking. “Ho-hold or I’ll shoot!”

*KER-SLICE!!*

Their weapon is cleaved in two, falling from their hands, and in the next half-second, the tip of the weapon responsible is held at their throat. This man finds himself looking into the very, angry blue eyes of the Queen of the Acorn Kingdom herself, Sally Acorn. Wielding an ornate sword with the crest of her family on the hilt, and ornate lines etched into the blade. For a second the guard swore the weapon’s blade glowed for a moment, but whatever the case, it was clear the Sword of Acorns (reforged and imbued with Sally’s residue Super energy) was capable of cutting quite nicely.

Her voice was ever commanding, calm and serene, yet deadly and potent. She was clearly angry, but using said anger as a laser-focused weapon instead of being consumed by it. For now.

“You will let my babies and my younger siblings out of that cell. Now, no questions. If you so much as dare do anything but I ask, you will regret it. Do not force me to spill blood before my children, because you WILL live to regret it.” She vowed.

“N’ she ain’t the only one you need ta’ worry about.” Uttered Bunnie Rabbot, as she got up from pummeling her foe into unconsciousness. She flexed both of her cybernetic arms which transformed into blaster mode on the right, and nasty energy axe on the left. “You further threaten my God-Children or Manny and Sonia’s well-being. I might just forget I’m a Southern Lady.” While plain and frank, there was a menace in her eyes mirroring Sally’s, and the hum of her weapons furthered showed she was not playing games.

A small ‘boom’ and a flash of blue from across the room, and the guard found Sonic the Hedgehog on the other side of him, arms crossed, and foot tapping rapidly. “Door, open, my kids and siblings safely in arms, now!’ He didn’t bother making threats, he didn’t need to.

The guard simply let out a pathetic sound, wet himself and passed out onto the floor.

Without a word, Sonic dug at their belt, found the key and quickly as he could unlocked the cell door, and threw it open. All anger, and intimidation left his face (as well as Sally and Bunnie who put away their weapons) as the look of a worried parent and brother overcame all else. “Are you four okay?! Did they hurt you any-?!” “DADDY, MOMMY!!” Instantly Kathleen, and J.C. dashed into the arms of their Father, with their Mother soon joining in the hug, checking them over.

“Oh my babies!” Sally clutched her family tightly, kissing the children all over their faces and tops of their heads, as she checked them for injuries. “It’s okay now, Daddy and Mommy are here, oh God I’m so sorry this happened, that we weren’t there to stop you from being taken.” She babbled, as the kept-in-check emotions burst from the dam she erected to focus on the rescue.

“We’re sorry, we’re sorry…” Sonic murmured, his heart still racing even with all his joy held firmly in his arms. Lifting his gaze, tear-stained he looked to his siblings worriedly. “How’re you two holding up? They didn’t hurt any of you did they?”

“Nah, they just… dragged us around at most.” Manic shrugged, but was clearly relieved this whole thing was over. As he stood he found his legs shaking, and leaned against his equally leg-shakey sister. “All that said, glad you guys found us so soon.” Moving closer, Bunnie shifted her arms, what was metal now, began to flash with energy and seemingly disassemble back to flesh and blood. The wonders of bio-nanite tech. Once her arms were organic again she pulled the two hedgehog siblings into a hug. “Sorry we didn’t get here sooner sugah, but we had to basically strong-arm some of the Spagonia government to give us the okay to act. Though once Sally n’ Sonic scared these bozos' supposed leaders into talkin’ they squealed like- well sumthin I can’t say within earshot of kiddos.”

Sonia let herself chuckle, relief and a sense of security flooding her being as she leaned into the hug. “So, lemme guess, the Trade Minister and his flunkies were the culprits?”

“Yeah, I mean we were gonna confront em’ with the evidence Nicole uncovered, but you all bein’ taken kinda forced our hands.” Bunnie further explained as she scratched the back of their ears soothingly. “U-Uncle Manny and Auntie Sonia, looked after us, we’re okay…” J.C. managed to speak once his throat wasn’t sore from crying (this time from happiness).

“Hmm-hmm, they’re the best as always!” Kathleen agreed, sniffling and wiping her eyes as she remained cocooned by her parents and brother.

Smiling, Sonic reached over and managed to give each of his younger siblings an affectionate arm-punch. “Somehow I knew they’d have it under control.” Well more hoped, but he didn’t want to devalue his sibling’s efforts. No if anything he wanted them to ride the pride of keeping themselves and the kids safe.

“Lucky for us, as Sonia called it, these guys were morons. Dangerous ones, but morons.” The green-furred hedgehog blew out a breath, and then he recalled something. “Um, ah, how’re Agent Fletcher and Hunigan?”

“Alive.” Sally replied, still nuzzling her children, still unwilling to let them go. Her own heartbeat was finally starting to calm down and the adrenaline high was crashing. “They were hurt badly, but both are tenacious and they got help just in time. They might have to retire from active duty early but we’ll be sure they’ll be looked after, their families too.”

“Oh thank goodness!” The two teens, and the younger children exclaimed, as joy at the news eased their hearts from the dread they felt prior.

Footsteps could be heard approaching, but the boot clomps’ were familiar. So no one tensed or got ready for another fight. Especially once Captain of the Royal Guard, Antoine D’Coolette emerged, wiping his sword blade clean with a cloth before sheathing it into its scabbard. “My Queen, ze fools have been disarmed, and rounded up. As you requested, we managed to take them all alive, if injured.” After a beat, he contemplated making a joke about some being ‘literally’ disarmed, but with the children there, he decided against it. “How are ze young ones?” He asked, decorum giving way to concerned God-Father, and as a fellow parent.

“Thankfully unhurt Sugah-Twan.” His wife replied, flashing a smile his way. “Where’s Tangle n’ Whisper?”

“Helping out Tails to ensure we didn’t miss anyone and secure the location.” Informed Antoine as he walked over, making sure all were fine, if to soothe his own fretful nature. They also will wish to zee’ that our rescuee’s are le’fine.”

Sniffing away the last of her tears, Kathleen looked up at her Mother. “Uncle Tails came too? I thought he was testing his new plane in the South Seas?”

“Once he heard the news, he jetted over as fast as he could and offered to help.” replied Sonic with a wide smirk of pride and relief for his ‘not-so-little’ bro. “Family sticks together, and well you guys are as much family as his own. Which by the way, I’m sure Tails will wanna set up a face-chat so Mina can see you’re all fine.”

“She is very fond of her biggest fans.” Chuckled Sally, who internally still found it ‘very’ weird, that Tails and Mina Mongoose hooked up. Their age gap wasn’t too bad, and clearly whatever happened to bring about their dating didn’t occur until Tais was eighteen/nineteen-ish. Then again he clearly had a thing for older women, at least his choices after Fiona Fox were an improved taste. As long as Mina was good to Tails, that was all she cared about, and they did seem like a good couple. Still weird but that was on her.

“Can we leave now?” J.C. asked softly looking up at both his parents hopefully.

“You got it son, we’ll juice n’ jam out of here and get you guys some food and tucked in for the night.”

“Can we have a sleepover in the hotel suite? Like all of us with blankets on the floor and pillows nests?” Asked Kathleen with big, hopefully eyes. A look her brother mirrored and nodded to her suggestion.

“Yeah, can we have a sleepover?!” Manic echoed, doing his best impersonation of the look.

“I don’t see why not, if everyone else is on board.” “Wouldn’t be hard for us all to fit in, big ol’ space, and like you could ask us to stay away after today.” Bunnie voiced her opinion with a warm smile at the children. Giving them assurance she was on board.

“Like the saying goes, the more the merrier.” Antoine stated to voice his blessing. “Plus I’m sure Bunnie and my own angels would love the idea as they too were worried about you four. As was your Nanny Miss Cream.” The coyote gently ruffled the hair of the two youngsters, his mind drifting to his children two years their senior. Yes, if they had been through this, he’d gladly acquiesce any whimsy they wanted within reason, and a sleepover to help soothe their nerves? A piece of cake.

Kathleen’s face fell as childish concern flooded her mind. “Oh no, that’s right, we were supposed to meet Jacque, Belle and Miss Cream after lunch…” “Hey they know we didn’t stand 'em’ up by choice.” Manic interjected as he flashed a smile and reached over to ruffle his niece’s cheek tufts.

“Let’s blow this pop stand, I want a hot bath, lots of bubbles and all the cheese cake…” Sonia muttered, feeling her own adrenaline rush and the weight of the whole ordeal finally sapping her energy.

“I hear that, let’s go home everyone.

#boundforfreedom #Sally Acorn #Sonic the Hedgehog #Sonic Archie-Comics Pre-SGW #fanfic #rescue #Sonally #Sonsal #Sonally celebration

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grapesodatozier · 4 years

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Anything You Want

a fic for @heterophobicrichietozier !! thank you so much for requesting this fic!!

rating: explicit

words: 7.5k

tags/warnings: sugar daddy au, domtop!richie, subbottom!eddie, daddy kink, age gap, marking (hickeys), degradation and praise, porn with feelings, mentions of sonia’s abuse

notsfw below the cut!!

Eddie Kaspbrak was running short on both money and patience. He was only just over a month into his second year of nursing school, and he was already struggling to pay his rent. And sure, rent in New York City was never easy to pay, but he’d been saving, he’d had a plan. The problem was that pretty much all of his money had unexpectedly gone toward his tuition when his mother had refused to pay for a second year at school.

At eighteen, Eddie had left his small hometown in Maine and moved to New York City to start college. He had just barely convinced his mother to let him go, and to help with his tuition as long as he covered his own rent. He was required to call her four nights a week, and he had to go back on the “medicines” he’d disavowed around age fifteen (all of which he routinely flushed down the toilet), but the physical distance had been amazing—at first. Soon, though, it wasn’t enough, and his mom started demanding he call her every night, accusing him of being reckless and taking advantage of her. When he’d told her he wasn’t coming home for the summer, she’d exploded into hysterics, crying and telling him he had to come home. It was when she began rambling on about how Eddie was probably running around with dirty New York City girls and catching all sorts of horrific sexual diseases, demanding that he come home so that she could keep an eye on him and find him a nice girl when she decided he was ready for one, that Eddie had snapped. Though it had been the result of years of pent up frustration and rage, he had stayed calm as he told her that he wasn’t missing her calls because of girls, but because of guys—because he spent his weekends getting fucked by men. “Sorry Ma,” he’d said, his voice cool as steel and even as could be, “but I can’t really pick up the phone when I’ve got some guy’s cock inside of me.” It wasn’t exactly the coming out his friends Bill, Ben, and Mike had been gently running by him, but he was angry, and it had felt good; he figured she’d have had the same reaction no matter how he said it, so what the hell, right?

Still, it stung when she’d told him she wasn’t paying for his college anymore. He hadn’t really believed her at first, as she was still hounding him about his sins and how he needed to come home, but sure enough, when emails about tuition began rolling around, they all went to his school email and explained that his name was the only one on his account, that his mother had bestowed the loans onto him and given up the account. Eddie nearly vomited when he’d received that email. As soon as the room stopped spinning, he blocked his mother’s number.

He already had a job for the summer tied down, but it was just an internship level position filing in a medical office, and it was only four days a week; there was no way it would cover tuition and rent and food, among other expenses. So he was forced to take on a second job as a waiter at a new restaurant a few blocks away from his apartment, then a third job working at a mechanic shop on Fridays and Saturdays. On top of all of that work, he had to completely redo his FAFSA and reapply for loans given his new financial circumstances. His school and the government did give him a bit more, but not enough to drop any of his jobs.

By the time classes rolled around, he had paid his tuition for the semester, but he’d had to dip into money he’d been saving for rent. Now, in early October, he was still working Fridays and Saturdays at the garage and was waiting tables Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturdays. He had a night shift shadowing a nurse on Tuesdays, which left Thursdays and Sundays as his only free nights, nights which he largely spent doing homework. All of this work, and he had still been eating Cup Noodles for the past two weeks.

It was a Friday night, and everything had been going wrong. In the middle of his shift at the garage, he’d gotten a notification from his school’s site informing him that he’d gotten a C on his most recent test, one he’d lost sleep over studying. Then work at the garage had run over and he barely had time to eat dinner before making it to the restaurant in time. He was tired and upset and feeling badly about himself, not to mention missing a party all of his friends were going to, so all it took was one baby boomer yelling at him over a mixed up order for him to excuse himself to the back room and start bawling. Thankfully, his manager seemed to be understanding and let him cool off. “I’ll take that table until they leave,” she told him, to his immense relief and gratitude. By the time she came back to check on him he had calmed down considerably and was staring into the mirror in the break room trying fruitlessly to pat down the puffiness around his eyes, trying to will away the redness that lingered. “Hey,” his manager said, “you wanna take table four?” Eddie sighed and nodded, trying out a smile. “Atta boy.”

He took a deep, steadying breath before heading out for his new table. His eyes fell on a table of three: a woman with dark red curls that fell to her shoulders, a man with truly impeccable posture, and the hottest man Eddie had ever seen in his life. And he was unabashedly looking Eddie up and down from behind a pair of thick rimmed glasses as he approached. “Hi!” Eddie greeted them, his big, bright customer service smile finding its way onto his face like it was possessing him. “I’m Eddie, and I’ll be your server tonight. Can I get you guys started with some drinks?”

“You got me started already,” the hot guy said. Then, meeting Eddie’s eyes, his brow furrowed. “Have you been crying?”

Luckily, Eddie didn’t have to respond to that, as the guy’s much more refined friend chimed in, “I’ll have a gin and tonic, please,” just as the redheaded woman was letting out an exasperated, “Richie, oh my god.”

“One gin and tonic,” Eddie smiled, his cheeks burning. “Anything else?”

“Could I have a martini, please?” the woman smiled kindly up at him.

“Martini, got it.” As he jotted it down, he prepared himself to face the hot guy—Richie, apparently. When he did, he was struck by the depth of his blue eyes. He was surprised by how warm they were, and they glittered as he smiled up at Eddie. “And for you?”

“What do you like?”

“Oh, I’m not old enough to drink,” Eddie flushed, letting out a small laugh. With a joking smile, he added, “The Shirley Temples are great, though.”

Richie laughed, his eyes never leaving Eddie. “A Shirley Temple it is.”

Eddie’s gaze didn’t waver either, and he put on his best innocent, big-brown-eyes look as he asked, “Virgin or dirty?” He had to fight back a smirk when he saw Richie’s eyes darken.

“Dirty.” The way he said it sent a thrill down Eddie’s spine. “Pretty please, with three cherries on top.”

“You got it,” Eddie said with a wink. Though the day was still weighing on him, he was beginning to feel better already. He might have even swayed his hips a little more than necessary as he walked away. He told himself it was because he could tell this Richie guy was into him, so he was aiming for a nice tip, but really Eddie loved the attention itself. With his schedule, he no longer had time for the hookups he spent his freshman year indulging in. So he couldn’t be blamed for preening under the attention of a hot older guy. Honestly, it was the pick me up he’d been needing for months.

The night went on, all three of them being incredibly kind to him, with Richie throwing in not at all subtle flirtations any chance he got. Eddie didn’t miss the three knotted cherry stems on Richie’s napkin when he brought their food and offered to refill their drinks.

He was almost sad to see Richie go, but he was grateful for the small smile he had on his face as he went to collect his tip and clear the table. At first he went to simply slip the cash into his pocket, but then he realized there was a note on the napkin beneath it: a name, Richie Tozier, with a phone number under it. It was then that Eddie realized he was holding five hundred dollars in his hand. He quickly stuffed it in his pocket, an embarrassed flush running from his ears down his chest as he hurried to clear the dirty dishes and bring them back to the kitchen.

The cash burned a hole in his pocket all night, all the way home. What the fuck? he thought to himself. Because seriously, who leaves a five hundred dollar tip on a meal that was barely over a hundred? Eddie locked his apartment door and placed the money on his dresser, staring at it. Five one hundred dollar bills. Who carried that around? What if they were counterfeit? Eddie pulled out the napkin and studied that as well, deciding to Google the name Richie Tozier. His jaw dropped when he did. There his face was, with his big glasses, cocky smile, and fluffy, dark curls. Apparently the guy was on SNL and had two Netflix comedy specials. He was also twenty-eight, nearly ten years older than Eddie. His net worth? Five million dollars.

Eddie sat down on his bed, his mind spinning. The place Eddie worked was nice enough, but it wasn’t exactly frequented by millionaires. Still in his work clothes, he dialed the number, figuring there was no way it would go through.

He picked up on the third ring.

“Hello?”

It was his voice. “What the fuck?” Eddie blurted out.

He heard a bright laugh on the other end. “Is this Eddie?”

“Yeah, it is, and seriously, what the hell? Five hundred dollars?”

“You looked upset,” Richie said. He sounded like he was trying to be nonchalant about it, but his voice had softened noticeably.

“So you gave a stranger five hundred dollars?” Eddie was honestly more confused than upset. Sure, maybe his pride was a little bruised, but to be honest he was touched. And kind of turned on.

“Just redistributing my wealth,” Richie joked. “I’ve got more than I know what to do with, so I figured giving it to a pretty boy who was having a bad day was a pretty good way to spend it.” Eddie flushed at that—pretty boy. The way Richie said it, so casually, yet with a joking tone that made it almost teasing, had Eddie’s pants getting tight. When Eddie stayed silent, Richie continued, “There’s more for you where that came from, if you’re interested.”

“What?” Eddie said, blood rushing in his ears. Was this guy serious? Was this actually happening?

“I’d be happy to help you out if you need it. A college kid like you should be partying on a Saturday night, or taking a fucking nap, not crying at a minimum wage job.”

“Like a sugar daddy?”

Richie laughed. Eddie loved the sound of it. “Yeah, like a sugar daddy, baby.” The pet name made Eddie shudder, made him feel like he was glowing. But still, he didn’t want this guy getting ideas.

“I’m not gonna have sex with you.” Even as he said it, his cock was hard, and the memory of the way Richie had been flirting with him made his skin hot. But he wanted to make explicitly clear that he wasn’t into selling himself.

“That’s not why I’m offering. Seriously, I just wanna help you out. And sure, maybe you’re ridiculously cute, and maybe I want to get to know you, but mostly I wanna help you out. Pay for your rent, give you time to study and party and be a college student.”

And how could Eddie turn that down? As much as he was struggling with it, with his pride and the stranger danger anxiety that his mother had ingrained in him, he seriously doubted that a hot millionaire would come around again offering to pay his rent.

So Eddie agreed, and soon he was sending Richie his Venmo information. Two minutes later his phone screen glowed with a notification: Richie Tozier sent you $2,000.

It had been hard to get used to at first, but cutting his work schedule down to just Monday and Wednesday nights at the restaurant and just Friday afternoons at the garage felt amazing. He finally felt rested, could finally give his schoolwork the attention it needed.

“You know, you really don’t need to work at all if you don’t want to,” Richie told him one night when they were having dinner together.

“I know,” Eddie said to his food, “but I like the independence of it. And working with cars calms me down, it makes sense to me.” He didn’t mention the real reason he kept both jobs: the big Just In Case that loomed over him. This seemed like a fairy tale situation, like an extended, intricate prank, and he was terrified that something would go wrong. He wanted to be prepared if Richie suddenly pulled out for some reason.

However, as the months passed it became pretty clear that even without sex Richie wasn’t going anywhere. And that started complicating things.

It was late in December, which meant finals and holidays, which meant lots of stress. It was the first Christmas Eddie wouldn’t be spending at home, and that made him feel sad in a way he didn’t understand; he was incredibly happy to be free of his mother, but there was something so final about it. He supposed it was still a loss, even if it was a welcome one. On top of that, his days were plagued by the anxiety that she might get a new number, might start calling him again, might show up at his door and whisk him back to Maine. So it was just negativity on top of worrying on top of sadness. Under all this stress, he found himself spending more and more time at Richie’s apartment, more and more time talking to Richie, wanting to get close to him.

So far, things had been pretty professional. They got meals together once or twice a week, often in Richie’s apartment due to fans of his popping up everywhere wanting pictures. Mostly they hung out because Eddie liked it; Richie was always reminding Eddie that he didn’t owe Richie anything, but Eddie genuinely liked his company.

Also, he was still ridiculously hot, and he fawned over Eddie like he was the one getting paid.

Seriously, Richie was so amazing to him, it wasn’t just the money. When someone at work pissed him off, Richie put on one of Eddie’s favorite shows and offered to hire some people to beat up whatever asshole customer had yelled at him. When Eddie complained that the construction outside his apartment was affecting his studying, Richie let him study in his apartment, and even brought him hot chocolate and rubbed his shoulders.

Now it was a Thursday, and Eddie had finished his last final. He had just gotten home from saying goodbye to Bill, Mike, and Ben for winter break when Richie called. Like always, the loneliness that was threatening to creep over him began to ebb as soon as he heard Richie’s voice. “Hey! How’d your test go? We still on for dinner to celebrate?”

Eddie appreciated the offer, but a fancy dinner wasn’t what he wanted just then. “Can we do dinner at your place tonight?” he asked, his voice worn and small.

“Of course, anything you want.”

Richie’s driver picked Eddie up, so he didn’t actually see Richie until he was knocking at his door and falling into his arms. Richie, with his roughly nine or ten inch height advantage over Eddie, easily scooped him up and brought him to the couch. “So would it be tone deaf of me to ask how the exam went?” Richie grinned, settling down with Eddie resting against him. Eddie tucked his feet under his legs as he leaned into Richie’s embrace, finding the relief he’d been needing all day once Richie’s arms were around him.

“The exam went okay,” he sighed. “But Bill, Ben, and Mike all went home today, and I won’t see them for like a month.”

Richie shifted so he was leaning against the arm of the couch, facing Eddie. Eddie naturally moved closer, like a magnet was pulling him toward Richie, and he ended up practically in Richie’s lap. He let out a small, happy sigh as Richie stroked his hair. “I could send you on a trip somewhere, take your mind off of it.”

But it wasn’t just the location that was the problem. Sure, he wanted something to do, but mostly he wanted someone to do things with. A specific someone, if he was being honest with himself.

Eddie looked down and ran his hand lightly over the stitching on the pocket of Richie’s button up. It was covered in a Pac-Man pattern, but Eddie knew it was more formal than his normal look. The idea that Richie had dressed up somewhat for dinner with him made him smile. And it should have calmed him down as he prepared to ask Richie his next question, but his heart was still racing as he took a deep breath and looked up into Richie’s eyes. “Will you come with me?”

Richie’s eyes widened just barely before a smile broke across his face. “You thought I’d miss out on buying you souvenirs?”

Eddie beamed. Richie looked so beautiful when he smiled, and his hand was a comforting weight on Eddie’s hip. The thought of travelling with Richie, of sharing a hotel room with him—sharing a bed with him—made Eddie glow. “Did you have any destination in mind?” he asked.

“Anywhere you want.”

Richie’s voice was soft and low, Eddie felt like he could melt into it. He ran his hand up Richie’s chest, cupped his cheek, and watched Richie’s eyes dart over Eddie’s face, clearly trying to get a read on the situation. Eddie had been thinking about crossing this line for a while. He’d been holding back for months, and as the months moved by, his hang ups had begun to feel less and less important. Sure, the money made things different. But, did it have to? Did it really? Richie was here. Richie was holding him without expectation. As Eddie watched Richie lick his lips, as he felt Richie’s hands on him, he couldn’t remember a single reason he’d come up with to not dive headfirst into what they both so clearly wanted, what they had both wanted since the moment their eyes met for the first time.

So he leaned in, the tension that had been building for months coming to a head and taking his breath away. But just as their lips were about to come together, Richie murmured a soft, reserved, “Eddie.” Eddie’s heart caught at his tone, and he pulled back a bit, trying to figure out what was going wrong. “You know you don’t have to do that.”

“I want to do it,” Eddie huffed. He was pouting now, and moving to straddle Richie’s hips. “I want you, so bad. I’ve wanted you ever since I met you.” He took Richie’s hand in his and kissed his knuckles. “No one’s ever treated me as well as you do. The way you take care of me, the way you look at me... I’ve never wanted someone this bad before.”

Richie studied Eddie’s face, his eyes softening, darkening. He unfurled his fist and held Eddie’s jaw in his hand, ran his thumb over Eddie’s lower lip. “Fuck, you deserve the world, angel.” Eddie flushed at that. His heart was racing at the light, teasing way Richie pressed down on his lip. Just as he was about to wrap his lips around Richie’s thumb, Richie slid his hand into Eddie’s hair, holding it noticeably tighter than he normally would. “Tell me what you want, baby.” His voice was low and rough in a way that made Eddie wish he would just bend him over and fuck him senseless already.

But Eddie didn’t mind being coy, didn’t mind pulling the tension as tight as it would go, seeing how much he could tease before Richie snapped and took him the way Eddie wanted him to. “I want you to kiss me.” His nose was bumping against Richie’s now, and he could feel Richie’s shallow breath on his lips. Richie’s eyes were dark and didn’t move from Eddie’s face. Eddie took Richie’s hand and guided it from his waist to his hip, just barely on his ass. Biting his lip, he whispered, “I want you to fuck me, so bad.” He put on a pout and continued, “I fuck all these college guys, but none of them are you. They aren’t as tall as you, their hands aren’t as big as yours.” Eddie watched Richie’s jaw clench. “They can’t fuck me the way I know you could.”

“Fuck, baby,” Richie nearly growled. Eddie gasped when Richie grabbed his ass, hard, and tugged his head back. “Did you think about me while they fucked you?” he whispered in Eddie’s ear, his warm breath sending a shiver through Eddie.

“Every time,” Eddie said, gripping Richie’s shirt in his hands. “Wanted it to be you so bad.”

Richie nuzzled against Eddie’s neck, still not kissing him, still making him wait while he groped his ass. “I know, baby. You needed more, huh? You need your daddy to take care of you.”

Eddie let out a surprised little noise of pleasure. No one had ever said that to him before. He wasn’t expecting it, and he certainly wasn’t expecting how much he would like it. It made him so hard he got dizzy, completely pliant in Richie’s arms. “Yes,” he breathed, already pathetically desperate. “Yes, daddy, need you so bad, please, please.”

Richie cursed under his breath and grabbed Eddie by the jaw, pulling him in for a bruising kiss. Eddie couldn’t help but let out a little whimpering moan when he finally, finally felt Richie’s lips against his. They were just as soft as they looked, and so full. As Eddie sank his fingers into Richie’s thick, dark curls, Richie sat up a bit and pulled Eddie closer against him, grabbing him by the hips and pressing their clothed cocks together. Eddie gasped and buried his face in Richie’s shoulder at the feeling. He mouthed at Richie’s neck, moaning at the way Richie smacked his ass. “This is mine, got it?” he said, his voice smooth and low. “None of those little college pricks are allowed to fucking touch you. Understand?”

Eddie moaned at Richie’s sudden possessiveness. All he wanted was to be Richie’s, for Richie to claim him and show him who he belonged to. “Yes, daddy. ‘M all yours, just wanna be yours.”

“Good boy.” He tugged at Eddie’s hair again, pulling his head back so that his neck was exposed. Eddie yelped as Richie licked a stripe up his throat and sunk his teeth into Eddie’s throat, sure to leave a dark bruise. Eddie squirmed in Richie’s lap as he sucked on his neck, hard and intentional. With a final kiss to the bruise, Richie said with a satisfied grin, “Now everyone’s gonna know you’re mine.” He chuckled and nipped at Eddie’s neck again when Eddie moaned. “Yeah, you like that baby? You like when daddy takes what’s his? You want everyone to know what a good little slut you are for your daddy?”

“Yes,” Eddie sighed, already starting to feel like he was floating. After finals and classes and work and months of controlling himself around Richie, this was exactly what he needed. It felt so amazing to just let go and let Richie take control, knowing Richie would take care of him. He couldn’t believe how good this was and none of their clothes had even come off yet. He fumbled with the buttons on Richie’s shirt, but Richie just chuckled and grabbed him by the wrists.

“That’s cute, baby. Daddy decides whose clothes come off and when, yeah?” Eddie whimpered and nodded. Richie slid his hands back under Eddie’s ass and stood then, lifting Eddie up. Eddie instinctively held tight to him, wrapping his legs around Richie’s waist and his arms around his neck. Richie kissed Eddie’s hair as he walked them to the bedroom. “Just let me take care of you, sweetheart.” Eddie’s heart soared as Richie sat him down on the edge of the huge bed, the duvet soft and cool under him. His legs dangled off the side. Richie’s eyes softened as he stroked Eddie’s hair. “You doing okay?” he checked.

“So good,” Eddie nodded enthusiastically, his hands fisted in Richie’s shirt.

Richie leaned down and kissed Eddie’s forehead, and by the time he straightened up again that look that made Eddie shiver was back on his face. Still cradling Eddie’s face, he asked, “Can I get a little rough with you, baby?”

Eddie’s eyes widened. “Please,” he moaned.

A dark, mischievous grin pulled at Richie’s full, dark pink lips. “That’s a good boy,” he said with a kiss to Eddie’s jaw. “Arms up.” Eddie quickly did as he was told, eager for Richie to strip his shirt off for him. “Fuck, baby,” Richie groaned as he tossed Eddie’s shirt aside. He ran his hands up Eddie’s sides and teased his thumbs over Eddie’s hardened nipples, making him gasp and grab at the sheets. Richie’s hands looked even bigger wrapped around Eddie’s ribs. It made him press his legs together, his cock throbbing desperately in his jeans. “Aw, you don’t need to be shy, kitten,” Richie cooed, forcing one of his legs between Eddie’s and pressing his thigh against Eddie’s crotch. Eddie moaned at the contact and desperately started grinding against Richie’s leg. “Fuck, you look so pretty grinding on me like that. Think you could come like this?” Richie pressed his thigh harder against Eddie’s cock. “Think I could make you come in your pants?” Eddie cried out as Richie pinched his nipples.

“God, yes,” Eddie moaned, rolling his hips. And he could, he could feel the pleasure building and building. But just as his moans were getting breathier, just as he was really desperately rutting against Richie’s leg, Richie pulled away and tugged Eddie up by his belt loops so quickly Eddie got dizzy and fell into Richie’s solid chest. “Wh-what,” he pouted, looking up at Richie, who was smirking at him.

“Aw, baby, we’re just getting started.” Still dazed and whimpering and achingly hard, Eddie held onto Richie as he undid Eddie’s jeans. Richie then dropped to his knees to pull them off. He helped Eddie step out of his jeans, running his hands reverently over Eddie’s legs as he did so. “Oh, sweetheart, you’ve been keeping these thighs from me for months?” Richie kissed them, making Eddie quiver and flush. “Fucking tease,” he murmured into Eddie’s skin before biting down hard on the inside of Eddie’s thigh. Eddie cried out and grabbed at the bed for support. “Look at these fuckin’ things, you basically wore panties for me.” Eddie gasped as Richie playfully tugged at Eddie’s light pink, silky briefs with his teeth. He’d mostly worn them to feel confident during his exam, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought of Richie when putting them on, or if he said he hadn’t bought them with money Richie gave him. Eddie leaned back as Richie spread his legs, lifting one up to get a better angle to suck marks into Eddie’s skin. The sight of Richie’s head between Eddie’s thighs, combined with the knowledge that his thighs would be covered in bruises by the end of the night, had a wet spot forming on the front of Eddie’s briefs. Richie nuzzled his face into the soft material, just barely grazing Eddie’s cock. He looked up at Eddie, his blue eyes nearly totally eclipsed. “Did you buy these with daddy’s money, baby?” Eddie nodded, blushing. Richie smirked at him. “Is this how you spend your allowance? On slutty little panties?” Eddie moaned at that and grabbed at Richie’s hair, rolling his hips forward and meeting only air. Richie chuckled. The condescension of it went straight to Eddie’s cock, which visibly twitched in his tight little briefs. “Aw, you like being called a slut, don’t you? You like it when I call you out on being a spoiled little cocktease?” Eddie yelped when Richie bit down on the inside of his other thigh.

“Daddy, please,” he whimpered. “Need you.”

For a moment Richie just hummed and kept sucking marks into his skin. But then, finally, he dragged Eddie’s briefs down and off his legs, leaving him fully exposed. Before Eddie could process what was happening, Richie was standing and spinning Eddie around and bending him over the bed, his face pressed into the mattress as his feet once again dangled over the floor. He let out a broken little moan as he felt Richie pull his cheeks apart and run his tongue over Eddie’s hole. After Richie had set a rhythm, lulling Eddie into a pleasured haze, he suddenly felt Richie’s hand come down on his ass. He moaned at the feeling, the slight pain that left an amazing stinging sensation in its wake. “God, you make the prettiest fucking noises,” Richie groaned, once again lapping his tongue over Eddie’s hole. He circled the ring of muscle a few times before pulling back. Eddie was just about to push his hips back when he felt Richie spank him again, harder this time, then felt him spit on his hole. Eddie let out a long moan; it was degrading and possessive in the best way. Eddie tried to rut against the bed, to relieve some of the desperate need that had his cock throbbing, but he couldn’t really do it with the way his feet were hanging off the bed. He heard Richie laugh behind him as he spanked him again. “Aw, you like that, baby? You like when daddy spits on you?”

Eddie let out a muffled, pathetic little, “Yes.”

“I know, it feels good, doesn’t it? Bet you wish you could get off right now.” Eddie’s desperate writhing was confirmation of that. “Don’t worry, kitten, daddy’s gonna fucking take you apart.” Eddie gasped as he felt Richie slide his tongue inside of him, setting a rhythm of fucking and swirling and teasing that had Eddie squirming. He rocked his hips back, letting his mind go fuzzy from the pleasure until suddenly Richie was pulling out and lifting Eddie up again. As disappointed as Eddie was to have Richie’s tongue no longer in his ass, he was more than happy to let Richie toss him around and lay him on his back, his head falling against the luxuriantly soft pillows. He felt so small in Richie’s bed, felt so vulnerable under his gaze—he loved it. Richie ran his hand all the way from Eddie’s throat down to his hip, taking his time before squeezing Eddie’s hip hard. “God, you look so fucking good like this, baby.” He made quick work of the buttons on his shirt, shrugging it off and tossing it aside.

Eddie let out an involuntary little moaned, “Fuck,” at the sight of Richie’s bare chest. He sat up and ran his hand over Richie’s soft, pale skin, admiring his freckles and the slight muscle definition. His shoulders looked somehow even broader now as Eddie traced his fingers over them. Richie only humored him for a moment before pressing Eddie back down and kissing him, deep and just the right amount of forceful.

Richie’s hands roamed all over Eddie’s body. “God, you’re such a pretty little boy, baby. Can’t wait to see what you look like when you’re getting fucked.” Richie bit down on Eddie’s lip, sending a thrill of pleasure through his body. “I don’t want you fucking leaving this bed for the next week, gonna bring you everything you need. Gonna fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk, and then I’m gonna do it again, and again.” Eddie moaned as he felt Richie’s finger circling his slick hole. “Gonna keep you nice and full of my cock whenever I can, gonna take such good care of you. You won’t need to worry about anything, gonna be my pretty little pillow princess. You just lie there and be a good little cocksleeve and daddy will take care of everything else.” Eddie preened at the thought of Richie fawning over him, of Richie doing everything for him so that all he had to do was lie back and take Richie’s cock. It had him squirming under Richie as he grabbed at Eddie wherever he could reach, surely leaving handprints all over Eddie’s body as he glided his tongue over Eddie’s. “Can’t wait to get my cock inside you, baby.” Richie sat back on his heels then and eyed Eddie’s hole, rubbing at it teasingly.

“Please,” Eddie moaned, trying to rock his hips onto Richie’s finger.

“Shh, baby, soon,” Richie soothed, leaning over to kiss Eddie again before reaching into his bedside table. He pulled out a bottle of lube and covered his fingers in it. Eddie moaned at the sight; he didn’t think a day had gone by where he hadn’t thought of Richie’s fingers since the first time they met. They were so long, and he could only imagine how amazing they would feel inside of him, fucking him, stretching him open. Richie chuckled when Eddie instinctively opened his legs. “I know, sweetheart, I know.” He tossed the lube aside and ran his clean hand over Eddie’s thigh, holding him still before slowly sliding a slick finger inside of him.

Eddie gasped and threw his head back; one of Richie’s fingers felt like two of his own and reached deeper than he ever could have by himself. “Fuck,” he cried, “your fingers are so big, oh my god.”

“Yeah?” Richie grinned, cocky and dark. As he slowly began sliding his finger in and out of Eddie, he slid his other hand up his chest until he was cradling his jaw and running the pad of his thumb teasingly over Eddie’s lips. “One finger and you’re already a mess, huh? You like the way I fill you up, baby?” Eddie moaned as Richie slid his thumb into Eddie’s mouth, effectively silencing any response Eddie could’ve made. He let out a contented hum and eagerly sucked on Richie’s finger, holding onto Richie’s forearm with both of his hands as he bobbed his head. “Fuck, that’s it, baby. Such a good little slut for daddy.” Eddie moaned again, rocking his hips as Richie began to finger him faster. Eddie cried out as Richie thrust deep inside of him, making him see stars. “Yeah, you like how deep I can get inside you, baby?” Eddie nodded. “I fucking love it too, angel. You’re so tight, so small and sweet.” He slid his thumb out of Eddie’s mouth and pressed his palm to Eddie’s throat. Eddie’s eyes widened for a moment, and he tilted his head back, giving Richie better access. Richie pressed down slightly under Eddie’s jaw on either side of his throat, moaning at the blissed out smile that graced Eddie’s face. Richie only pressed down a bit, only for a few moments at a time, just enough to get Eddie’s cock leaking all over himself. He let out breathy little moans as Richie finger fucked him, the wet sounds filling the room.

“Daddy,” Eddie moaned. He met Richie’s eyes as he begged. “Please, please, fuck me, daddy, want your cock so bad.”

“Oh, sweetheart, that’s cute” Richie grinned, his voice low and condescending in a way that made Eddie’s cock throb. “I need to open you up a little more before you’re ready for my cock.” As he said it, he pressed another slick finger inside of Eddie, stretching him out. Eddie felt so full already from just two of Richie’s fingers; his cock ached at the thought of how big Richie’s cock would feel inside of him.

Eddie was pulled out of his thoughts as Richie spit on his chest, sliding his free hand over Eddie’s nipples, getting them nice and wet as he played with them. “Daddy,” Eddie began, but he cut himself off with a scream as Richie curled his fingers inside of him, making electric pleasure shoot through him. He moaned and squirmed and grabbed at Richie’s hair, at the sheets, anything to ground himself as Richie leaned down and sucked on his nipples, still relentlessly fucking Eddie’s hole with his fingers. “Please,” Eddie gasped, “daddy, please.”

“You sure you’re ready, baby?” Richie teased.

“Fuck me, please,” he whined, clearly getting impatient. “I can take it!”

“Oh yeah?” Richie asked, pulling his fingers out. He had a look on his face that had Eddie’s blood pounding in excited anticipation. “Okay, baby. If you think you can take it.” He stood up off the bed then, and Eddie sat up a bit to watch. With rapt attention, his eyes followed Richie’s every movement as he dragged his jeans off his legs, then stripped off his boxers.

“God, daddy,” Eddie whimpered, drooling over the sight of Richie’s cock. It was thick and heavy and hard, and so fucking long, Eddie couldn’t believe he’d been keeping himself from a dick like that for months. It was even longer than any of his dildos or vibrators. He needed to feel it down his throat, he needed it.

Seeming to sense this, just as Eddie began to move toward him Richie lightly shoved him back down. “Stay where you are, baby.” Eddie whined but reluctantly complied. The way Richie tauntingly stroked his cock just out of Eddie’s reach had him debating whether it was worth it to be bratty if it meant getting his throat fucked. But his cock was throbbing between his legs, his hole pitifully empty, and watching Richie roll a condom on and lube up his cock made it hard to think about anything other than getting fucked. “Maybe if I’m feeling generous I’ll come on your face,” Richie mused, almost casually as he climbed back onto the bed and spread Eddie’s legs, settling naturally between them. Eddie moaned at his words and melted back into the bed. The sight of Richie above him, the way he touched him, had Eddie completely pliant. He felt warm and buzzy, almost liquid as Richie ran his hand reverently over Eddie’s thigh. As he teased the head of his cock over Eddie’s hole, he took Eddie’s hand in his and entwined their fingers. While Eddie nearly moaned just at that sight alone, at the way Richie’s hand engulfed Eddie’s own, it was also incredibly endearing, and it made something stir in his chest. Guys didn’t normally hold his hand when fucking him, and if they tried it was just weird, as he pretty much only did hookups. But with Richie… it felt different. The way Richie looked at him was different. Like he didn’t want to miss a single thing Eddie did.

Richie’s voice was low and rich and brought Eddie back as he asked, “Ready?” Eddie bit his lip and nodded. As Richie pressed himself inside of Eddie, careful and slow, Eddie squeezed Richie’s hand. His mouth dropped open in a silent cry as he felt every inch of Richie’s cock filling him up. Once he bottomed out, Richie let out a low groan and rested his forehead against Eddie’s, pressing kisses all over Eddie’s face.

“Holy… holy shit,” Eddie panted, letting his body adjust. He’d never felt this full before, had never had anything so deep inside of him. “Oh my god.”

Richie chuckled in his ear as he kissed Eddie’s neck. “What’s the matter, kitten?” he teased.

Eddie couldn’t even be bothered to take the banter bait; everything felt too good, his mind was numb. “You’re so big,” he said dumbly, saying exactly what was on his mind. “No one’s ever been this deep inside me before, holy shit.”

“I can tell,” Richie hummed. “So fucking tight for me, baby, it’s fucking amazing.” Eddie let out a small whimper as Richie sucked on his neck. “Does it feel good?”

“Yes,” Eddie sighed. “I just, I need just a minute.”

Richie nuzzled his nose against Eddie’s and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “As long as you need.”

As Richie kissed him, sucking gently on his lower lip, Eddie slid his free hand into Richie’s hair, admiring the way his curls felt between his fingers. Then, experimentally, he lifted his legs a bit, pulling them toward himself. They both moaned at the movement, and Eddie felt Richie squeeze his hand. “Oh my god,” Eddie moaned. He grabbed Richie’s face and kissed him desperately, pleading into his lips, “Fuck, I’m ready, please, please fuck me.”

Richie grabbed him by the hair and held him down, lifting himself up with his other arm. “Yeah?” he said, voice breathy as he pulled his hips back. He looked amazing, dark curls wild as they hung around his face, his blue eyes dark and hungry behind his glasses, his lips slick and red from kissing Eddie. He squeezed Eddie’s hip hard and asked, “You wanna get fucked, sweetheart?”

“Please,” Eddie whined. He hooked his hands under his knees and pulled them up to his chest, spreading them nice and wide for Richie. He watched Richie’s eyes go dark and begged, “Please, need you to fuck me, daddy.”

Richie snapped his hips forward with a sharp, “Fuck,” making Eddie cry out. He pulled his hips back again, until just the tip of his cock was buried inside of Eddie. “Say that again.”

Eddie met Richie’s gaze with glassy eyes and whimpered, “Please, fuck me, daddy.”

Richie cursed again and thrust into Eddie, this time setting a more steady pace. “God, you feel so fucking good on my cock, baby.” Eddie moaned and rocked his hips, his hands falling to grip the sheets beneath him as Richie began fucking him faster, harder. “You look so good like this, so pretty when you’re moaning for my cock.” Eddie flushed; Richie’s words had precome pearling at the head of dick, dripping onto his stomach.

Richie’s thrusts were getting hard enough to rock Eddie’s body back and forth, moving him so easily as Richie fucked him. Eddie loved it, loved how effortlessly Richie could toss him around. He loved hearing Richie moan as he fucked him, loved knowing that Richie felt just as good as he did. He loved the idea of Richie using his body to get himself off. The thought had him letting out little high pitched moans with every thrust. The pleasure left his mind in a haze, and all he could concentrate on was how good Richie’s cock felt inside of him, all he could say was a desperate string of, “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” broken up by wordless moans.

“Fuck, you take it so well, baby,” Richie praised, running his hand over Eddie’s chest. “So fucking good for me. You like getting fucked like this? You like being all spread out for daddy? Just lying back and taking it while daddy makes you feel good?”

“Yes!” Eddie cried. “Yes, yes, yes, daddy, oh my god, ‘s so good, fuck.”

“God, you’re so beautiful,” Richie marveled, leaning down to kiss Eddie. The new angle shifted Richie’s hips, and suddenly Eddie was seeing stars, every nerve in his body coming alive and fizzling like a sparkler. He cried out and clutched at Richie, nearly screaming from how amazing it felt.

“Fuck,” he moaned, his voice high and desperate. “Right there, yes, oh my fucking god, don’t stop, please, please, don’t stop.”

“Aw, sweetheart, does that feel good?” Eddie nodded frantically, his moans becoming shouts as Richie’s cock brushed against his prostate over and over, the pleasure so deep and all encompassing. He couldn’t think about anything else, all he knew was that amazing feeling, all he knew was he needed more. He wanted more and more and more, he could feel it building, was vaguely aware of the fact that he was digging his nails into Richie’s back hard enough to leave scratch marks.

“Daddy,” he slurred, “gonna c-come.”

“Fuck, baby,” Richie groaned. He spit generously into his hand and reached between them to stroke Eddie’s cock. Eddie’s back arched, pressing himself against Richie. The new contact had pleasure rushing through him, and with a few strokes of Richie’s hand on him and a nearly growled, “Come for daddy,” Eddie was coming undone. Pleasure exploded through him, wracked his body as he came all over himself, all over Richie’s hand, Richie fucking into him the whole time. Beyond the noise of his own moans and screams, he could hear Richie cursing under his breath, telling Eddie how good he was doing.

Eddie panted as he came down, blinking his eyes open slowly. Still buzzing, he watched as Richie carefully pulled out of him and rolled the condom off before leaning further over Eddie. He spit into his hand again and began stroking his own cock, a sight that made Eddie’s spent cock twitch in interest.

“Open your mouth, baby,” Richie moaned. Eddie happily complied, sticking his tongue out and closing his eyes. Moments later, Richie’s moans were filling the room, as was the slick sound of Richie stroking himself, and Eddie moaned, small and content as he felt Richie’s warm come painting his chest and cheeks and lips.

He blinked open his eyes once he heard Richie let out a heavy sigh. He looked amazing, sweaty curls clinging to his face, blue eyes hooded as he took in the sight of Eddie beneath him, covered in come. Eddie made sure to meet Richie’s gaze before he swallowed the come on his tongue, then licked more off of his lips. “Fuck, you’re a fucking angel,” Richie grinned. He swiped his fingers over Eddie’s chest, spreading his come over Eddie’s nipple before bringing it to his lips. Eddie hummed happily as he sucked on Richie’s fingers. He still felt like he was floating. Richie leaned down and kissed him, deep and lingering, before saying, “Let’s get you cleaned up, baby, okay?” When Eddie nodded, Richie climbed off the bed and headed for the bathroom. Eddie watched through the open door as Richie waited for the water to warm, then wet a washcloth under it before walking back over to the bed. Eddie preened as Richie cleaned him, pressing soft kisses all over his face as he gently ran the warm washcloth over Eddie’s cheeks and chest and stomach. “That was fucking amazing,” Richie said. Eddie hummed in agreement. He felt like he was glowing when he felt Richie smile against his skin. “You’re so beautiful, Eds. So fucking good for me.” As soon as Eddie was clean and the washcloth was tossed in the hamper, Eddie wrapped his arms around Richie and pulled him down against him, nuzzling into his neck.

“You’re amazing,” he murmured softly into Richie’s skin. They lay like that for a few minutes, just holding each other and pressing soft kisses against each other’s skin, until Eddie let out a small, “Richie?”

Richie sat up and met his eyes, sensing the shift in his tone. “Yeah?”

“What… what is this? Like what are we, I guess?” he asked, tracing patterns over Richie’s skin with his fingertips.

Richie smiled softly down at him and stroked his cheek. “Same thing it’s always been. Whatever you want.”

Eddie huffed. “What do you want?”

Richie bit his lip, his eyes flickering between Eddie’s. “I want you. All the time. I wanna take you on vacations and buy you gifts and flowers and dinner and watch movies with you. I wanna date you, Eds,” he said with a weak huff of a laugh. “I wanna give you the fucking world.”

Eddie grinned up at him and pulled him down for a kiss. “I wanna date you, too.”

After a few moments of chaste kisses, Richie murmured into his lips, “I also wanna fuck you in every position on every single surface I can think of.” Eddie rolled his eyes and smacked his shoulder, but he was giggling, and he couldn’t say he hadn’t been thinking the same thing.

taglist: @clouded-eyes-and-salty-tears @eddieeatsass @deadlighturis @constantreaderfool @reddieloserz @thelazyeye @montconde @itfandomprompts @tinyarmedtrex @nancythebisexualslutwheeler @cutedubutokki @losers-gotta-stick-together

#reddie #notsfw #reddie smut

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hains-mae · 4 years

Text

Flowers

(Damian x Reader) Soulmate AU

Rating: T

Ages: Damian and you are 16, everyone’s ages follow after.

Summary: Soulmate AU where the wounds on your soulmate turns into a flower tattoo on your skin, if it heals with no scars the tattoo goes away, if it heals with a scar then the tattoo stays. You are just an ordinary girl, with an ordinary life, so one might think it only makes sense that your soulmate is just as ordinary as you. But that isn’t the case. Especially not when your body is constantly littered with flowers. Some of them fade over time, some stay, but one thing is for certain – your soulmate seems to get hurt. A lot.

Notes: Hey there you guys. Recently I’ve been caught up in a Batman fever, and I can’t do anything about it. I ended up creating a challenge for my friend @mrevaunit42 which was an “Character x Reader” Soulmate AU. Seriously, it was all in the name of fun.

And then I got caught up in it, perhaps a little too much – and created this. I’ve never written a soulmate au before, though I really wanted to. (Now I have! Yay~) So please forgive my writing since I’m a little rusty, and I hope you enjoy.

Stay safe everyone.

Disclaimer: I do not own DC. If I did, I wouldn’t make it as confusing as it is now.

I woke up to a burning sensation on my lower ribs in the middle of night. Hissing in pain I slowly pushed my feet out of the warm covers and turned on the lamp beside my bed. Pulling up my shirt I assessed the damage.

It was purple lilacs this time, stretched across the middle of my torso going horizontally to my side. I winced as the tattoo completed itself and just as the heat came, a cold chill ran through it and down my spine. Somehow it soothed the burn.

God, another one? I frowned at the beautiful flower and sighed. It worried me that my soulmate was prone to getting hurt. Sometimes the injuries made sense, like when I found them on my knees, I could easily chalk it up to falling and scraping – but injuries like these were more difficult to decipher.

How does someone normal get hurt this way?

They don’t.

“Unless they’re a criminal.” One of my friends stated dryly days ago.

“Or a hero!” Another said quickly.

Needless to say, I wasn’t in a rush to find out. Whoever this person was, I knew from the start that they were trouble.

The next time I woke, it was to the early morning rays that escaped my curtains and played a fiery dance on my eye lids. I groaned and pulled the covers up wishing I could sleep in for a couple more minutes, but I knew I couldn’t.

A few weeks ago my school, Gotham Academy, announced that they were holding their annual science fair at a convention centre as opposed to the regular school gymnasium, because surprisingly enough, Wayne Enterprise offered to fund the event.

It was no secret that Gotham’s economy was hitting below the desired margin. Many people don’t have jobs which resulted in an influx of crime in the past years. And so Wayne Enterprise collaborated with Gotham’s Department of Homeland Security (DHS) to raise awareness and encourage young minds to strive for a better, innovative future. They shouldered the expenses needed and created an international affair, to top it off; Wayne Ent. also offered scholarships to future college goers and internships in all their branches.

Which was why I couldn’t sleep in today. I had project to work on. In line with our team of sponsors, I decided to invent a weapon that could help the GPD when catching criminals. A gun that projects thin plastic case marbles filled with a chemical concoction that erupts into a quick hardening foam upon impact. The foam itself is not toxic, but it works with catching and detaining. It turns as hard as stone but there was another type of compound that I was in the process of creating to counter act it as a measure of safety.

I got up and started my day.

“Good morning sweetheart.” My mom greeted as I entered the kitchen. She smiled warmly at me as she placed a plate of eggs and bacon on the table.

I couldn’t help but return the gesture, walking up to her and placing a kiss on her cheek. “Morning Mom, are you working tonight?”

“I have to, but don’t worry I’ll be leaving something in the fridge for dinner.”

I thanked her and took my plate into the living room. Turning on the T.V., I easily found the news channel and watched the latest reports on Gotham’s activities.

Mom sometimes had to work on weekends just to make ends meet, which was one reason why I was so hard to get that scholarship and hopefully the internship as well. The other reason was…

A family picture caught my eye in the middle of the news and I bit back a sigh. My dad, my mom, and me. We all were smiling at the camera.

Dad was part of the Police force and died during a heist. Reports stated he was running after the criminals and got shot before he could capture them. That was another reason I chose this as my project. Dad always wanted to fight for justice, hopefully this invention could help.

I finished up my breakfast and helped my mom with chores before I slipped into science mode and continued tinkering with the project. The projectiles were complete and I was able to make 3 in total, which I stored in a small box encased with extra padding.

It was around evening after my mom left that I got another burn. I dropped the screwdriver I was holding and bit my lip. Gasping for breath I pulled my sleeve and watched another flower blossom on my forearm.

The pain was gone in an instant and the cold tickled the skin that was branded. I sighed and slowly straightened my poster. This person, after all these injuries, they better not die before I meet them. I grumbled to myself when I realised I was short on supplies. Poor planning on my part.

I grabbed my bag and locked the front door before I headed out to the nearest hardware store, careful to keep my marks hidden from view. I’ve lived in Gotham my whole life, and I knew that standing out, even in the smallest way, would lead into trouble.

The walk to the store was short and uneventful, thankfully. There were only a few customers. I manoeuvred my way between the isles and picked up what I needed. After paying at the counter I hauled my goods and ducked back into the streets. I almost wished I didn’t stop when I heard that woman cry out for help. I was unarmed, unprepared, and every cell in my body screamed at me to walk – no – run away from the scene that was unfolding before my eyes.

But she was helpless. Clad in a trench coat and rain boots, she didn’t look like much but her bag was definitely designer. The thieves in question had a knife pointed at her face. There were 6 of them. All were towering and bulky next to her petite frame. Their menacing stares struck a cold shiver in me and my hand involuntarily clutched the projectiles I was working on in my pocket. I had a feeling it would be safer with me than it would be at home, however this was not how I imagined I’d first be using them.

The woman screamed again and I clenched my palm.

I sucked in some air and got ready to shout at the perpetrators – until I felt the wind rush past my ear.

In a flash someone had swooped into the scene and kicked the man holding the knife to the ground. The sound of blades being drawn stole my attention. It was Robin. He took a stance between the woman and the men.

“Run. Now.” He told the lady.

She whimpered and scrambled up to her feet dashing towards me, towards the entrance of the alley. She zipped past and didn’t stop running till she turned the corner. I should be running too. But my eyes were fixed on the fight that was about to happen.

Robin seemed no older than me. In reality there was no way he could win against 6 huge men. But then again, this was Robin. No normal teenager.

“6 against 1.” He mused, the grip on his katana tightened. “That hardly seems fair.”

The one who held the knife, possibly the leader of the gang, growled thickly. “Get‘im boys.”

They all rushed towards him at the same time, hands in the air and weapons ready. Robin whipped his blade and easily knocked two knives down, the remaining used their strength and threw punches that looked like it would strike anyone straight to next week. The masked boy effortlessly dodged all their hits. Crouching, jumping, twisting, exactly when needed and not a second too late. His movements were precise; a quick jab below the rib striking the kidney with the handle of the sword, a sharp slam of his elbow to the chin, and to close the deal with a blunt blow force to the side of the neck. The goon fell like a tree that’s been cut down.

I gaped in awe.

The others rushed to avenge their fallen comrade, but Robin was quicker and used his blade to disable them. He kicked one of them into the brick wall, a sickening crunch echoed as the goons’ head smashed into it, then a howl of pain when Robin sliced his back. I cringed at the sight of the blood. It was a superficial wound, at least from my vantage point. The cut was deep enough to hurt and draw red, but not enough to kill.

The next lunged himself and grabbed Robin’s wrist, the boy growled and kicked him the face, forcing to free himself. He couldn’t see the other one running towards them from behind, the weapon aiming straight for Robin’s back.

“Robin!” I found my voice and screamed. “Behind you!”

He did a roundhouse kick and slammed the head of the one holding his wrist, then using the momentum back flipped and kicked the one who was behind.

I sighed in relief.

“What are you doing just standing there?!” He shouted at me as he readied himself again. “I said run!”

That got all the men’s attention. The ones that fell got back up and huffed angrily.

“Get the girl!” The leader shouted. “We can use her.” His leer sent bile rushing up my throat.

I squeaked as 3 of them started to chase me. Finally my legs listened and I dashed across the street onto the other pavement.

They were too fast though, their thundering footsteps grew closer towards me. My lungs burned as I tried to inhale some much needed oxygen, physical sports like running really weren’t my thing. I nearly tripped on an uneven tile as a scream rippled out of my throat. I braced myself for impact but it never came. Instead I felt a rush of wind across my face and a lightness below me. The ground was getting further and further away.

I realised I was being carried. Looking up, I was face to face with Red Robin.

“God thing I saw you when I did or you’d be dead meat.” He said dryly as we landed on a roof.

“Th-thank you.” I breathed, trying to gulp in as much needed air as I could. “Robin – he –“ But I didn’t know how to articulate. The adrenaline rush was messing with my head, and I could barely think straight.

Yet Red Robin nodded, understanding. He jumped off the roof and shot his grappling hook. I peered down and saw the fight started to move, from the alley to the side walk. The goons cornered Robin into a store front and were relentless as they threw punch after punch. The other 3 that were chasing me were already fighting Red just below the building that he deposited me on.

I watched in horror as the glass shattered everywhere around them. They weren’t just normal gangs I discerned, they knew how to fight. And unlike the birds and bat, they didn’t mind taking a life.

Clutching the projectiles again in my pocket, I brought them up with trembling hands.

“I hope this works.” I whispered to myself and pulled out my elastic hair tie.

Hooking one of the orbs onto the elastic, I aimed for the goons attacking Robin, and pulled as far as the band could go. Willing my hand to stop shaking, I said a silent prayer and released my hold.

Time seemed to go into slow motion as it flew across the air. I held my breath.

It hit the ground between two goons and burst into a big foamy cloud of vibrant cobalt, instantly seizing the men and solidified their prison as the concoction cooled.

Both fights stopped for a split second, as they watched the chemical reaction, which now looking back was a mistake on all parties.

I gasped and thanked whoever was listening.

The leader roared and pulled a pistol. I felt my throat tighten as the gun set a bullet free.

Robin and I cried out in pain as the bullet dug into him. Tears threatened to roll down my cheek as I clutched my burning shoulder.

A birdarang zipped towards the leader, catching his wrist and making him let go of the weapon. With a grunt, Robin kicked him hard across the chest stealing the perpetrators breath and with a quick turn, smashed his foot onto the mans jaw, cracking it before letting him fall with a loud thud.

The fight continued and Robin easily subdued his last opponent. Then he ran across the street to finish up with Red. Both of them moved in fluid motions like well trained dancers as they fought while protecting each others weak spots. They took down the last 3 goons and tied them up just as the police sirens blared within the distance.

I jumped up from my spot and turned to run but stopped when I saw the two Robins in my path.

“You.” The younger one started. “You were the one who shot the…”

I nodded wordlessly, still feeling the adrenaline coursing through my body. A nasty red splotch caught my attention and I believe they both noticed as I glanced at it. My own hand went up and clutched my shoulder unconsciously, a cold sensation rippled through where the bullet was.

“Oh my god.”

---

to be continued...

Part 2, 3, 4, 5 (end)

#Damian Wayne x Reader #Damian x Reader #Soulmate AU #fanfiction #my fanfiction #challenge #DC #Batman #Robin #Red Robin #my fan fiction

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jingabitch · 4 years

Text

Armed to the Fangs ch.9

SUMMARY: you grew up in the hunter’s guild, understanding that it is your sacred duty as a hunter to protect humanity from the vampires that lurk in the dark, draining the life from anyone unlucky enough to be caught. while making the rounds one night, you encounter taehyung, a fabled born vampire - not that you know that when he tries to entice you into a dark alley. next thing you know, you’re kidnapped and taken to their home, where you realise that all of them somehow crave your blood and seem to know more about your past than you do. finding out about where you came from might be the key to setting humanity free.

PAIRING: eventual ot7 x reader

WARNINGS: some description of violence, angst, pining, maybe eventual smut but not for a looooong time, slow burn (really the slowest of burns), there is violence in this chapter, tense confrontation

RATING: T

WORD COUNT: 4k

A/N: yay action! thank you @pasteljeon and @jminacious for looking over this for me.

series index

Jungkook was the one who noticed it first.

His appetite started waning, and truth be told he hadn’t noticed it much at first. As the youngest of his brothers, he’d always had the greatest appetite of his brothers, always hungry. They’d promised that as he grew older, this would fade and he would no longer be so controlled by his bloodlust, but it hadn’t shown any promise so far. When he noticed that he was snacking less throughout the day, he chalked it up to that at first. Blood didn’t smell or taste as good anymore, but that was normal, right?

Besides, he had so much more to occupy his time now that you were around. He’d read that hunger was tied to boredom, and while life around the manor had been kind of mundane before, there was never a dull moment these days. Between spending time with you and your cat or listening to the stories of his brothers doing the same, there was so much more life in the manor now.

Really, it was no wonder that there was less time in his day (night?) for him to constantly be going down to the fridge now. And just like that, he managed to convince himself that a vampire losing his appetite for blood wasn’t really a problem.

Still, even the eternally optimistic and sunny baby boy of the manor could not ignore the fact that when the new delivery of blood arrived and he went to put them in the fridge, there wasn’t any space because it was still packed with the blood bags from last month.

“That’s weird,” he muttered to himself as he perused the contents of the fridge. He knew he hadn’t been drinking as much, but the others hadn’t said they were limiting their consumption either. And yet, based on how many packs were piled on top of each other, it looked like hardly any of them had been taking any at all.

It wasn’t the only strange thing that was happening around here, he thought as he remembered his strange visit with Hoseok a couple of days ago. He’d kept quiet about it out of respect to his hyung, recalling how desperately the older vampire had begged him to keep it a secret. Against his better judgement, he had, though in the back of his mind he still worried.

He was still standing in front of the fridge, frowning at the neat piles of blood bags, when you ran down the stairs. He truly didn’t know how you’d been a hunter when you were so goddamn loud all the time. It sounded like you were stomping through the hallways every day.

“Y/n,” he greeted as you darted past him.

“Oh, hey!” You paused to greet him. You were dressed in the same black jacket and trousers you’d been in when Taehyung first brought you to the manor, with your gun strapped to your hip and – he was sure – knives in your boots. Thankfully, as you’d eased up around them, you stopped carrying around the machine gun on your back, but you still felt vulnerable and naked being unarmed. Old habits die hard, after all.

“Where are you rushing to?” he asked, observing your jittery and anxious demeanor. Your eyes were constantly flicking towards the hallway that led to the front door and you couldn’t stop shifting your weight from one foot to another.

“Oh, Jennie-unnie said she was going to come visit today, so…” You trailed off.

“Right, okay.” He smiled at you to hide his unease. One hunter in their midst had been nerve-wracking enough at first, and you were his mate. He knew you were best friends with Jennie, though, so he tried to keep an open mind about her.

You didn’t notice his hesitance, so excited about finally seeing Jennie again. Since you’d been living at the manor, you hadn’t been able to meet any of your old hunter friends, and as much as you were starting to enjoy living here, you did miss them. Jennie had just texted you to let you know that she was almost here, so you were on your way to greet her.

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

Jennie stood in front of the manor, staring up at the massive, imposing building. Her fingers were loosely curled around the barrel of her shotgun as she remembered the task from the Head.

“You have to get rid of her,” he said impassively.

Jennie’s eyes widened. This wasn’t what she’d expected. “But sir,” she started to protest. “I’m sure there are other options we can explore first – recalling her, training her again…” Her eyes searched Master Bang’s expression for any sign of sadness or regret at having to issue such an order for you, the hunter he had practically raised.

“You know there is no other option for a vampire sympathizer,” he cut her off.

“Sir, please,” she begged, tears falling down her face. She didn’t want to have to do this. You’d just been misled by the vampires you were living with, that was all. This was an unprecedented situation, wasn’t it? Did he have to be so cruel?

“You have your orders.” His tone was firm and brooked no opposition. She’d been a hunter long enough to know what that meant.

“Yes, sir,” she muttered in defeat, before turning to leave. Her shoulders slumped and her head bowed as she shut the door behind her.

One would think, probably, that she would be more of a mess. Crying, maybe, from the stress of having such a mission placed upon her. But Jennie was, first and foremost, a hunter, and she would carry out her orders no matter how much she didn’t want to. Her eyes were dry and focused, her hands steady. The last thing she could do for you was to make it a clean shot, so you felt no pain.

Still, she swore, she would avenge you. After carrying out your execution, she would make it her life’s mission to hunt down and kill all the bloodsuckers who’d made you like this. Who’d pretended to be civilized and kind, intentionally misleading you and tempting you from the path of austerity that hunters committed to. How dare they, she thought, her fingers tightening around the handle of her gun. When she finally got her hands on them, it wouldn’t be a clean, pretty shot like she was going to give you. She was going to make them suffer for what they’d done to you.

“Unnie!” you called out, opening one side of the double doors. You waved at her cheerily as you skipped down the steps to the driveway where she was standing.

“L/n Y/n,” she said emotionlessly, raising her gun to your face. You stopped short at the unexpected sight.

“Unnie, what’s going on?” you asked, eyes darting to her weapon as you raised your hands in the air. Your training kicked in automatically - don’t say or do anything that might startle the person holding a weapon at you, of course, and always follow every instruction they give you. Still, as composed as you looked on the outside, you were a mess inside. Thankfully Jennie wasn’t a vampire, because she would have been able to hear your heart rate ratcheting up. Hell, you could hear it pounding away in your ears.

“Drop your gun on the floor,” she instructed, her eyes flicking down your body. She knew you definitely had them on you. The months you’d spent here couldn’t break the habits of a lifetime.

“Okay,” you said slowly, keeping your left hand in the air as you slowly reached down with your right, shifting the lapel of your jacket aside so she could see the holster strapped to your hip. “I’m going to take my gun out, okay?” When she nodded, you took the gun out and bent down to put it on the ground.

Meanwhile, Jungkook heard the conversation from the kitchen and ran out. You’d never closed the door, and he was standing behind you, in the door frame. “Jungkook,” you cautioned, hearing his footsteps, “You should go back in.”

“Y/n, what’s going on?”

“Jungkook, this is hunter business. You need to go inside.” You didn’t know why you were trying to protect Jungkook when Jennie had never even faltered in her aim, clearly uncaring that he was there. He might be a vampire, but to you he seemed so young and innocent, and you didn’t want him to have you watch you get your brains blown out.

“Y/n, come back in!” His raised voice drew the attention of his brothers, who all dropped what they were doing to come see what was going on.

Hoseok, still in his room, pulled back the drawn curtains slightly to check out the commotion. He gasped when he saw the hunter standing in the driveway, her gun pointed straight at you.

“Unnie,” you ignored Jungkook to address Jennie, “why are you doing this?” Your voice didn’t tremble, even though you were staring down the barrel of her gun. Jennie wasn’t crazy, you knew, and she had to have a good reason for showing up here all of a sudden to murder you.

“Master Bang…” In the face of your calmness, her voice unexpectedly trembled. She swallowed hard, then tried again. “You’ve changed, Y/n. You’re sympathizing with vampires now, and there’s no place for that in our organization, you know that.”

“Jennie-unnie…” you pleaded. “Don’t do this, please.”

“I have to,” she whispered, the sound of her voice barely carrying in the wind. “Goodbye, Y/n.”

In the second before she pulled the trigger, there was a giant crash from upstairs and glass and plaster rained down on them. Jennie, who was standing exposed, screamed and threw her hands up over her head to protect her face, and without looking up to see what had caused the commotion, you dropped to the ground and rolled, picking up your gun as you went.

When you looked back up, in a different position now, you saw Jennie lowering her arms – and, nearby, Hoseok, who’d apparently flung himself out the window and was lying on the gravel now, groaning in pain. “Shit!” he hissed. His body, which was already weak from starvation, had not been in any position for what he’d just put it through.

Your eyes flicked towards him, ascertaining that he was alive, before returning to Jennie. You needed to help Hoseok, but before that, you really needed to get rid of your friend – former friend? – and fellow hunter.

“Unnie, you need to leave,” you said firmly, pointing the gun at her.

“No,” she insisted, aiming at you again.

You flicked the safety off with your thumb. It was a bluff, of course – you could never actually shoot her – but she didn’t need to know that. “I’m going to count to ten, and if you’re not back in your car by the time I’m done, I’m going to start shooting.”

Jennie’s lips flattened into a line, but she knew that you were a crack shot. You’d started learning how to shoot a gun when you were six, after all. As good as her aim was, yours was better. She had no chance against you.

“Ten…” You started counting. Jennie started backing away, though she held her gun up to you the entire time.

“Nine… eight…” She rounded the car, sliding into the driver’s seat. It was only when she was in that the gun aimed at you was put away, although you didn’t lower your weapon as the car started.

“Seven… six…” You continued counting until she drove away, then hastily stuffed your gun back in its holster. As you ran over to the man who was still lying prone, you heard the six other vampires in the house burst through the door to get to their fallen brother.

You reached first and fell to your knees next to him. “Hey… you okay?” you asked, touching his face gently. To your shock, he jerked away from you with more force than you would have thought him capable of, given how weak and in pain he looked earlier.

“Get away from me,” he snarled.

“Hey, I just want to help, it’s okay, I won’t hurt you,” you rushed to soothe him, thinking that he was reacting to a hunter coming close. He was the one you’d interacted with the least, after all, so it wasn’t a stretch of the imagination to think that he didn’t trust you because you were – had been? – a hunter.

Instead of being comforted by your words, however, he just bared his fangs at you again. By this point, the others had reached you, and Jungkook, who recognized the expression on Hoseok’s face as ravenous hunger, quickly got between the two of you.

“Wha—hey!” you protested as you were shoved aside. “What are you doing?”

“Sorry, Y/n,” Jimin said apologetically as Namjoon knelt on the ground next to Hoseok. You couldn’t hear what they were saying or see what was going on through their legs.

“Yeah, he’s in pretty bad shape and it’s dangerous for you to be around him,” Taehyung added. You stood up and brushed the dirt off your clothes. What was he talking about? You tried to peer over their shoulders at Hoseok, who was now being lifted by Jungkook and Jin, but they closed ranks around him so that you couldn’t see him.

“We’ll just put him back in his room, okay? Why don’t you go get some rest, you look pretty shaken up.” Jimin came close to try and hug you, then seemed to hesitate at the last moment, his arms awkwardly stretched out. He didn’t actually know how you would react to a hug, since all of them had made sure to keep a respectful distance from you.

To extricate you both from the uncomfortable position, you took a step back and his hands fell to his sides. “Right, well…” you said, looking away. “I’ll see you later, then. Feel better soon, Hoseok-ssi.” Then you turned and walked away, heading back to your room.

Yoongi sighed as they watched you leave. “She’s going to have a hard time later,” Yoongi predicted, and the others nodded, a few murmuring in assent. They would need to see if she was all right, but later. First, their brother demanded their attention.

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

It felt like your body and your mind were on autopilot as you walked back to your room, retracing the path you’d taken earlier this evening, when you’d been so excited to see Jennie. So much had changed in the few minutes that she’d been here, and you could hardly process it.

The room you returned to seemed different, somehow, even though you knew it was objectively the same. Injeolmi came to greet you, chattering softly as he wove around your ankles, and you bent down to pick him up, rubbing your face in his fur for comfort. This room, once your prison and workplace, was now the only place you had to call your own. For now, anyway – you didn’t know if the boys would even want you to remain here now that you weren’t playing a diplomatic role. You didn’t need anyone to tell you that you were no longer a part of the Guild, not after a hunter had been dispatched to kill you.

Almost robotically, you walked over to the drawer where you kept your weapons, putting your gun away and hanging up your holster. You toed off your boots, keeping the knives you kept in them, then fell onto your bed face-down with a groan. Injeolmi hopped onto the covers next to you, looking concerned as he sniffed at your hair.

Even though you wanted to, you couldn’t cry, the tears refusing to come. Instead, you just lay there, not even attempting to process your emotions. What was there to think about? You’d been cast out of the Guild, the only home you’d ever known. Worse, you’d been sentenced to death. Even if Jennie hadn’t succeeded in carrying out her orders, it was only a matter of time before other hunters showed up to finish what she’d started. Your days were numbered.

Thankfully, your whole body was still numb from the shock, and every emotion was dulled. While adrenaline had allowed you to act quickly, picking up your gun when you saw the opportunity, now that it was fading, so, it felt, were you.

Closing your eyes, you ignored the plaintive meows of your cat as you tried to block the world out. As the energy drained from your body, all that was left was an overwhelming exhaustion that you allowed to steal your consciousness.

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

“Hobi, what’s going on with you?” Yoongi fussed over his brother. Since there was now a giant hole in the window in his own bedroom, Hoseok had been brought to Yoongi’s, the older vampire gladly giving up his bed for his brother. This was the first time that most of them had seen him in weeks, and they were shocked by how weak and sickly he looked – even accounting for the fact that he’d thrown himself out a window.

“Nothing,” Hoseok groaned, even though they could all clearly see that it was a lie. His colour was off, and his jawline and cheekbones were more sharply defined than before. He curled up in bed, clearly still in pain, which meant his healing abilities had been affected too.

Namjoon sat down on the bed next to him, patting his face with some concern. Vampires were made of hardy stuff, and there were few things that could cause something like this. “How long has this been going on?” he asked.

“Couple weeks,” Hoseok gritted out, turning his face away from his brothers. He just wanted to go to sleep, and they kept bothering him.

Namjoon’s gasp made him turn his head back to his brother, and the shocked expression on his face made him kick himself inside. Of course Namjoon would be able to put two and two together.

“It’s her, isn’t it?” Namjoon asked. Resigned, Hoseok nodded slightly.

“Hobi…”

“Stop,” he groaned. “I can’t deal with this all over again.”

“Well, it doesn’t appear like you have a choice, does it?” Jin cut in. “Or did you just happen to fall out of your window just in time to save her?”

“Hyung…”

Seeing his obvious pain and misery, Jin relented. “Fine, you should get some rest. But we’re talking about this later.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything else.” Despite his current state, Hoseok never missed a chance to mouth off to Jin.

“All right, everybody clear out,” Jin ordered. As all of them filed out, he turned back to take one last look at his brother, who’d turned onto his side and pressed his face into the pillow.

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

There was a minor scuffle among the remaining boys over who would get to see how you were doing – one that Yoongi, surprisingly, won. He claimed that he was bored because he’d had to give up his room to Hoseok while the window in the latter’s room was fixed, but his brothers knew better than that.

As he walked down the hallway to your room, Yoongi straightened his clothes. He really should remember not to get into physical altercations with his brothers, especially that muscle pig Jungkook, he thought to himself. Not that the younger really had a chance against him, but it was usually annoying.

Standing outside the door to your rooms, Yoongi hesitated before knocking. He remembered the shell-shocked expression on your face earlier and knew that you’d be dealing with some pretty intense shit right now. You might not want any company, but he figured it couldn’t hurt to let you know that you weren’t alone.

With that in mind, he rapped his knuckles against the solid wood of the door, then waited. There was no response, and he tried again. When he heard only silence through the door, he grew concerned.

His hand hovered over the doorknob as he debated over whether or not to enter without permission. He didn’t want to interrupt you or invade your privacy, but at the same time, he was worried – you hadn’t even spoken to tell him to go away. In the end, his curiosity about what you were up to won out over his prudence, and he opened the door, promising himself that he would only check to see if you were safe before leaving if you wanted him to.

It was cool and dark in your rooms, and Yoongi didn’t see you at first. “Y/n?” he called quietly. You didn’t respond, but Injeolmi woke up and leapt off the bed, padding quietly over to Yoongi.

“Hello,” he greeted the cat. He wasn’t as fond of Injeolmi as Jimin was, but even he had to admit that Injeolmi was an exceptionally good-looking and well-behaved feline, a fine companion for their mate. Injeolmi blinked at him, then went into his litter box.

“That’s nice,” he said with a slight grimace before continuing into the bedroom. There he found you, still dressed and wearing your socks, lying face down on the bed. Your legs dangled off the mattress and your arms were laying by your sides, looking for all the world like you’d just collapsed out of exhaustion, which was basically what had happened.

He knew that he should leave now that he’d ascertained that you were fine, but seeing you look so defeated, he couldn’t help but feel a tug in his chest, compelling him to go to your aid.

Gingerly, he sat on the edge of the mattress next to you, raised a hand to place it on your back, then thought better of it.

“Y/n?” he said again. This time, you stirred slightly. Emboldened, he repeated your name.

As you woke up, you became aware that you were lying face down in a puddle of your own drool, and you pulled your face away from your bedspread with a grimace. “Ugh,” you groaned, wiping at your cheeks and chin with the long sleeve of your shirt. Yoongi looked at you with fond amusement, as you suddenly became aware that he was there and lowered your arm to the bed sheepishly.

“What are you doing here?” you asked with a cute little scowl. He noted that your reflexes had slipped from when you’d first arrived, although he wasn’t sure if you’d eased up because you trusted them more now or if it was a result of your emotional state.

“I just wanted to check up on you,” Yoongi said simply with a little shrug.

“I’m fine,” you grouched, even though you really weren’t.

“I know,” Yoongi accepted, instead of calling you out on your lie. “Just… I had to give Hobi my room, so is it okay if I chill out here for a little while?”

You knew what he was doing, and you appreciated it more than you could say. “Sure, you can stay,” you allowed, striving for nonchalance. From the small smile he gave you, though, you knew that you’d missed the mark. Still, he didn’t call you out on it, instead crawling onto the bed so that he was reclining against the pillows you’d stacked against the headboard.

You followed suit, snuggling close to him and throwing an arm over his middle. Your forehead pressed against his side, and you closed your eyes. You knew that you definitely wouldn’t have done something like this if you were in your right mind, but you’d never felt so alone and helpless in your life and here Yoongi was, offering his own quiet, subtle brand of comfort that you couldn’t help but take greedily.

Yoongi draped an arm around you, rubbing his thumb against your back, and stayed there with you, letting you know without words that you hadn’t been completely abandoned. No matter what, you had him in your corner.

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