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andreafmn · 9 months

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Ours | Derek Hale Oneshot

Word Count: 3.5K Requested by @gracelynn318: "Derek or Stiles finding out that their significant other (the reader) is pregnant and they try to keep it secret for as long as possible" Warnings: pregnancy, pregnancy symptoms (vomiting, nausea, fatigue)

Summary: Derek Hale and (Y/N) have been together for a long time, and they didn't know something was missing from their lives until it arrived unexpectedly. And all they want to do is revel in the moment for as long as they can, by themselves.

A/N: this story follows 0% of canon, just the character's names. will admit. I am a horrible Teen Wolf fan that has yet to see season 5 and 6, and I've also yet to watch the movie. So, definitely an AU 😬also, be on the lookout for tonight or tomorrow for another surprise regarding this request 😉😉

Derek had noticed the change long before (Y/N) had. Long before she knew why she spent her days expelling her meals down the toilet drain, before she understood why her body craved more food than she could keep down, before she had even noticed that a month had passed and her period had not arrived.

It came late at night. The soft putter of a heartbeat that felt so far that it could have been confused with the sound of rain against the pavement. They had been lying in bed, the exhaustion of living in Beacon Hills the only thing they needed to crash at night. But the sound had been bothering Derek. The continuous rhythm didn’t allow the wolf to lose himself in much-needed slumber. The sound kept him up, especially from where it was coming from.

“(Y/N),” he whispered, running his hand up and down her arm to wake her. “(Y/N), baby, wake up.”

“Mm,” she groaned groggily, cuddling to his body tightly. “Go to sleep, Derek.”

“(Y/N), I gotta ask you something. Wake up.”

“We can talk in the morning,” she whined. “I’m tired right now.”

“It’s important,” he chuckled softly. “I need your complete focus.”

With a loud exhale, (Y/N) sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. The sheet fell from her torso, and the coldness of the night made her skin erupt in goosebumps. She rarely got angry with Derek, but she was coming quite close at that very moment. “You better have a good reason to wake me, Der,” she said. “I’m so tired I might just put off killing you until tomorrow.”

“Listen, please,” he said. “When was the last time you got your period?”

“What?” the girl questioned. “You seriously just woke me up to ask about my cycle?”

“More or less. Just answer. Did you get it last month?”

It took her a moment to think. The grogginess of being woken up still clutched her mind, and recounting the past weeks was hard. But her body startled awake as she realized she had not gotten her shark week in a month and a half. That fact alone did not scare her. She had always been irregular, and in moments of stress, it was more likely than not that she skipped a cycle. The problem was that not only had she missed a period, she had been feeling sick for the past three weeks. And the math was not too hard to do.

“I-I didn’t,” she stammered. “W-why are you asking?”

“Oh my god,” he answered. “Oh my god!”

“What? What’s wrong?”

Instead of answering, Derek pressed his ear to her stomach until he could hear the sound clearly. Alongside (Y/N)’s quickening heartbeat, a quieter, steady pattern joined. It was too indistinguishable now. “You’re pregnant,” he said. So quiet he wasn’t sure if he had said it at all. “There’s a baby in there. Our baby.”

“Pregnant…” (Y/N) could not believe the word even as it rolled out of her tongue. “I can’t believe it.”

“We’ll go to Deaton tomorrow, but I’m certain. I can hear their heart beating in there.”

(Y/N)’s mind was reeling. Pregnant, she thought to herself. The word felt foreign. So did her body. Derek had noticed the change before her. How could she not have known that a life was growing inside her? How could she ever be a mother when she did not even know herself?

Without realizing it, tears fell down her cheeks. She felt weak and panicked. The strong woman that had faced the biggest dangers and far scarier monsters trembled with the thought of a life depending on her for survival. It was one thing to volunteer to protect the members of the pack. They were old enough to fend for themselves. It was another to be responsible for the life and survival of another human.

“Hey,” Derek called. His voice sounded like it was underwater. So far away that she could barely hear it. “Baby, what’s going on?”

She hadn’t noticed that she had stood from the bed and was pacing around their room. Her breathing was shallow, and her chest heaved as she took in short breaths, trying to steady herself. Tears kept falling faster than she could wipe them away. They warmed her cheeks before the air turned them cold. It was the only thing that grounded her.

And Derek. Always Derek.

He had gotten off the bed, and within a second, he was wrapping his arms around her. The warmth from his skin calmed her. It brought her senses back to the moment, steadying her rampant heart.

“What’s wrong, (Y/N)?” he spoke into the crook of her neck. “Tell me what I can do to make it better.”

“I’m scared, Derek,” she sighed, tightening her grip around him. “A baby. Here. Now.”

“Why not here?” Derek smiled, his hands running through her hair. “Why not now? With you as their mother, that baby could be born underground, and they would be the luckiest child in the world.”

“How could you be so sure?” (Y/N) cried. “I forget things all the time, I’m clumsy, I can barely redeem myself when it comes to fighting. If it weren’t for my weapons, I wouldn’t bring much to the fight against our enemies. What good would I be to protect a child? How could I be entrusted with their entire upbringing?”

“Oh, (Y/N). You’re far more valuable than what you bring to a fight.” His hands cradled her face, the green of his eyes boring into hers. “You are the most caring person I know. If it weren’t for you, I would have killed half of the pack by now. You’re smart. You’re funny. And if anyone should be terrified of becoming a parent, it should be me.”

“Come on,” she scoffed jokingly, her tears finally subsiding. “You’d be an amazing father. Temperamental, but great nonetheless.”

“Well, I’m glad it at least got you laughing,” he grinned. “How about we just take this one day at a time, baby? Make sure we take things slow. Tell people on our own time. Instead of going to the doctor, we buy a pregnancy test at the pharmacy; confirm what I already know.”

“But if you can hear the heartbeat, I am sure all the other wolves will, too,” she worried. “How am I supposed to take things as they come when everyone will know the second they come here?”

“Then, I won’t let anyone back here,” he smiled. “I’ll have them meet me at the warehouse or at Argent’s place. We can say you’re sick with something and won’t be there. Or that you went to visit family out of state –I don’t know. The point is, we can do this, baby. I know we can.”

“Well, I do admire your tenacity,” she chuckled, kissing his lips softly and hugging him again. “One day at a time, right?”

“One day at a time.”

And it worked. For two months, at least.

That very morning, he went out and returned home with five pregnancy tests and a bouquet of flowers. And five minutes later, they all showed an array of dark pink plus signs and the word Pregnant on them. Just like that, it had been confirmed. A new baby Hale would be coming to Beacon Hills in eight months.

They were excited. Of course, they were. But they couldn’t help the terror that overtook them as well. Bringing a new life into their world was a scary thought. The fact that anyone with knowledge of their child could use them against them was terrifying. Still, they wanted that baby more than anything they had wanted before.

The child that grew inside of (Y/N) was the tangible representation of their love. Evidence that everything life had thrown at them had not been able to push them apart, not for a second. They had been through hell and back, always together, and they had come out of every single occasion stronger than before. That baby was the final piece to their equation.

The next day, they went to the first available OB/GYN about an hour from the town. The doctor confirmed what they already knew, adding the new fact that she was around seven weeks along. The process was more than uncomfortable, but the result was well worth it. A tiny blob appeared on the screen, and the sound of a rapid heartbeat filled their ears. It made tears well up in their eyes. That tiny thing would soon turn into their baby. And even though it didn’t even have a distinguishable shape, they had fallen in love with them.

At first, they thought they would pass the first trimester in bliss. That they would only grow more and more excited as the days passed. And they would have. Had it not been for all the symptoms that overtook (Y/N).

She spent most of her day hunched over the toilet seat, emptying whatever was in her stomach. Even when she thought she could keep food down, an hour or two later, she would be in the bathroom letting it out. And if she wasn’t vomiting, she was ransacked with deep waves of nausea. Then, her breasts started to swell, painful jabs running through her every few days. In addition to heartburn and fatigue, it made her question just how worth it a baby could be.

But Derek had been attentive as ever, if not a little overbearing. He had kept his promise of moving where the meetings were held, claiming that the loft was under renovation while (Y/N) was out of town for a bit. It wasn’t a complete lie, though. He used his downtime to clean up around the house and fix things he had put off for far too long.

He fed her saltine crackers and electrolyte drinks, rubbed her back, and held her hair, and he loved her. Every day and every night, he loved her. Even when he had to stay up cleaning the bathroom or he had to carry her back to bed. He loved her through everything.

“You did this to me,” she had groaned one day. “All I want is to eat chips and pickles, but I can’t keep anything down.”

“I know, and I’m sorry,” he responded, drawing circles on her back as he cradled her body in the bathroom. “Hopefully, in a week, it’ll subside. You’re almost out of the first trimester, and the morning sickness should get better.”

“Stop reading pregnancy books,” she whined. “By the time this bun is fully baked, you’ll know more than me.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Derek chuckled but swallowed his laughter as (Y/N) gifted him an angry scowl. “Okay, okay. I think the ten books I’ve read will do.”

(Y/N) remained quiet and threw her head against his chest. His arms snaked around her body, a comfort she allowed herself to sink into. The warmth from his body felt nice against her shivering skin. But just his presence was enough to comfort her, regardless of the words she spoke.

“I’m sorry I’ve been snappy these past few days,” she sighed. Her eyes closed as he wrapped his arms tighter around her, her head falling against his chest. “I love this baby, and I love you, but I don’t love puking all the time. And peeing all the time. And being tired all the time. I want to fast forward to the next few months.”

“Hey, you can be snappy with me all you want. I can take it,” he said with a smile. “I will be right here every step of the way because I love you. More than you could ever know.”

“Even when I’m all big and bloated?” (Y/N) chuckled, her hands falling onto the growing small bump. “They're already trying to deform my body.”

“Well, at least you’re glowing.”

“No,” she sighed. “That’s just sweat.”

“Then you look beautiful covered in sweat,” he laughed. “Now, let’s get you to bed. Alright?”

(Y/N) could only nod and wrap her arms around his neck as he carried her back to bed, laying right next to her. Even if he couldn’t take this discomfort away, he was trying his best to make things better for her.

Another week passed, and things started to shift. The woman would only occasionally feel the need to throw up her food, but the constant nausea and heartburn had subsided. And once (Y/N) saw her baby's small fingers and feet in their 12-week ultrasound, she knew it had all been worth it.

She also knew they couldn’t keep the secret to themselves any longer.

The pack had become angsty. Wondering when (Y/N) would be coming back from her supposed trip. Two and a half months was far too long to just be with family. With no imminent danger in sight, they had too much time to check up on everyone else.

“I think it’s time we tell them,” (Y/N) told Derek as they watched a movie. She cradled her small bump, something she had unconsciously started to do. “We’re almost at the five-month mark, and I think it’ll be too hard to hide.”

“Do we really?” he groaned. “I can just keep you hidden here until the nine months are up. They don’t have to know a thing.”

“You would really keep the mother of your child sequestered in these walls until I give birth?”

“Maybe even more,” he shrugged. “Maybe I’ll keep you here forever.”

“You’re quite funny, Mr. Hale,” she chuckled. “But they are our friends —our family. They deserve to know there’s one more person to protect.”

“I’ve just really liked this time,” he sighed. His chin rested on her shoulder, his beard tickling her exposed skin. “You know, just you and me. Basking in the time we won’t have once everyone knows and once the baby is here. It’s all I’ve ever wanted, (Y/N). A family of my own, that I can love and protect. A home that’s ours.”

“And we will have that,” she smiled. “We’re just allowing more love in. The best part, at the end of the day, we can just kick them out.”

“When you put it that way,” he laughed before kissing her lips, savoring her. “Alright, fine. We’ll tell them next Saturday.”

“Thank you, Der. It’s gonna be great.”

And it should have.

Had it not been for the million things that went wrong that week. The A/C was busted for a total of four days, a pipe burst in one of the bathrooms, the paint they had ordered for the nursery had been put on back order, and the Camaro had to be taken into the shop for tuning. Thing after thing occurred, piling onto an already stressful time.

Nevertheless, the week came and went. And before either of them knew it, Saturday had rolled in.

To say (Y/N) was nervous was an understatement. For some reason, anxiety was taking over her body. Its claws dug themselves deep into her being. It made her veins run cold and her heart speed. She didn’t know how any of them would react to the baby. Even to the fact that they had kept it from them for so long. And although Derek tried his best to calm her worries, they had already made a home inside her head.

“God, what if they hate the fact that I’m pregnant?” (Y/N) worried as she laid out more food than necessary on the kitchen counter. “What if they find the idea of bringing a child into a messed up world to be the worst thing ever?”

“Who cares, baby? It’s our child,” Derek tried to reassure. “We are the ones that will be raising them. The ones to protect them. Always and forever.

“But they say it takes a village, Der. And that is one thing that I know is true. I mean, at some point, we will need their help.”

“And you really think we won’t have it,” he said, rounding the kitchen island. His hands traveled her body and, in one swift move, had her sitting on the counter. At eye level, he could stare directly into her glossy eyes. “We have been through everything with these people. Even the ones I hated at the beginning have become my closest friends. I’m 100% sure they’ll be thrilled that you’re pregnant.”

He snaked his hand to her chin, pulling her down for a soft kiss. But once their lips made contact, it was too much of a temptation to keep it chaste. Soon enough, their tongues danced together, and their hands pulled each other closer. It left them breathless and excited, wanting —needing more.

“Uh, we can come back if it’s a bad time,” Stiles’ voice rang through the apartment, startling them apart. “But you guys did invite us here. So, it’s kind of bad on you guys.”

“No. Yes! I mean, it’s not a bad time,” (Y/N) chuckled as she jumped off the counter, hiding her stomach with a comically large bowl. “We just got carried away, I guess.”

“The one day they decide to show up on time,” Derek grumbled under his breath. “Come in, why don’t you?”

Before they knew it, the apartment was filled with werewolves, a banshee, other werehumans and supernatural beings, and their very own abominable snowman. The couple remained in the kitchen as everyone situated themselves, whispering under their breath what the best way to go about it would be.

“Not to be pushy,” Peter called out. “But if you guys only called us over for some food, I have better things to do than hang around children all day.”

“You do know we’re all well above the age of eighteen, right?” Isaac retorted. “It’s been quite some time since we have been children.”

“You’re still younger than me, correct?”

“Well, yeah…”

“Then children,” he said. “So, what is it? Am I staying, or am I leaving?”

“Settle down, Peter,” Derek responded, biting back the urge to roll his eyes. “We do have something important to announce to everyone and would very much appreciate it if you just listen.”

“Fine,” he frowned. “But you have ten minutes of my time before I decide to leave.”

“All we need is a couple of seconds, really,” (Y/N) said with a smile on her face so sweet no one dared say anything else. “I’m sure you heard that I was away for a while and that we were undergoing renovations here. Which, as you can tell by the lack of changes, was not true. Derek lied on my behalf and moved any necessary meetings out of our home because I needed this time to myself as I underwent a sort of change in my life.”

“Oh my god, you’re dying,” Stiles worried. “Is it cancer? Is it at least treatable?”

“It’s nothing like that, Stiles,” she reassured with a soft chuckle. “But thank you for worrying. It’s just as life-changing but not necessarily life-threatening. At least, I’m hoping it’s not. But you could never be sure until…”

“(Y/N), you’re rambling,” Derek whispered in her ear. “It’s nothing bad.”

“You’re pregnant!” Lydia exclaimed, a bright smile adorning her face.

“How would you know that?” Malia questioned. “I thought you predicted death, not new life.”

“It’s common sense,” she shrugged, disregarding the comment. “She’s been hiding for months. The place smells like paint, and nothing in this room is painted, so I can only assume it’s a bedroom. And she hasn’t stepped out from behind the island that just so happens to cover her stomach. Two and two always makes four.”

“Except on this occasion, it made three,” (Y/N) chuckled. She walked around the counter and joined Derek’s side, her bump finally on display for everyone to see. “But, yes, Lydia, I am pregnant. Almost five months now.”

A shower of ‘holy crap’s and ‘oh my god’s rained over them as, one by one, the pack got to their feet and hugged the couple in congratulations. They rejoiced together and started planning how to spoil little baby Hale even before they were born. Every single person was as excited and overjoyed as Derek and (Y/N) were, anxious for when the baby was born.

Well, except Peter.

“Yeah, next time you have these kinds of news, little nephew, make sure to make it an email,” he grumbled, looking at his watch. “Can’t believe I canceled evening plans for a pregnancy announcement.”

“We love you too, Peter,” (Y/N) laughed. “Maybe if you leave now, you can still make it to whatever it is that you had planned.”

“I’m already here,” he shrugged as he sat back down on the sofa. “Might as well take advantage of the free food.”

“Ignore him,” Derek told her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “He can’t take this moment away from us. It’s all ours.”

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the-broken-truth · 10 months

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Leaving The Web [Part 1] - Platonic Yandere Miguel O'Hara w/ Daughter Symbiote Spider Reader

Summary: As the eldest and only daughter of Miguel O'Hara, a member of the Spider-Society and host of the Venom Symbiote, you have experienced heartbreak from your father's neglect due to his work. Despite your understanding, his decision to leave your universe to raise another daughter was the final straw. You sought refuge in a universe where you don't exist and made it your new home. However, when your father's actions caused the collapse of that universe and the death of his alternate daughter, he realized the value of the daughter he already had - you. Unfortunately, he discovered that you were gone and has since gone to great lengths to find you.

[Earth-928]

Your eyes were filled with tears as you hugged your legs closer to your chest while you sat in your bed in the darkness of your room; your heartbeat irregular as you sobbed and your breathe was stuttering while you tried to calm down but this situation was too much for you to handle at the moment - a fifteen year old shouldn't be dealing with this at the moment or even at all - it was all the fault of your father.

Your name is [Name] O'Hara - Elderst & Only Daughter of the Leader of the Spider-Society, Miguel O'Hara - you are a member of the Spider-Society and you also just happened to be the Host of the Symbiote - Venom. You were bitten by a Radioactive Spider when you were five years old and started developing powers when you were around 8, the members of the Spider-Society aided you in understanding your powers but the one you wanted to help you was just ignoring you - Your Father, Miguel O'Hara. He was so consumed in his work - worried more about tracking Anolomies and dealing with the Spider-Verse rather than raising his daughter. Peter was more of a father to you than Miguel was but you still wanted him to accept the blood bond between the two of you so you worked as hard as you could for the Spider-Society to make your father recognize you but all your efforts were in vain.

At a particular mission, after you turned 15, you successfully captured an anomaly by yourself. With a smile on your face, you presented it to your father, but instead of acknowledging your achievement, he took the creature and left without a word. This left you in tears and looking down at the ground. Peter, noticing your distress, comforted you by placing his hand on your shoulder and giving you a hug, while Mayday patted your head.

One night, Miguel didn't home that night and you were concerned so you went back to the Spider-Society and went to look for him. When you arrived at his platform office with all the screens still active and got curious so you decided to take a look at the screens and what you saw was completely heartbreaking: He was spying on another version of himself - one that had a daughter - but was killed while trying to save someone's purse but was gunned down. Miguel had traveled to the universe and replaced the dead version of himself and according to the log: "I'm going to raise his daughter as my own, one that I can be proud of rather than a burden who was forced on me.". Your heart broke as you left out of the Spider-Society before webbing all the way back home, going into your room, and crying.

"[Name]."

'What is it, Venom? I don't want to talk about it.' You sobbed as your lifted your head from your hands and wiped the tears from your water-soaked eyes before placing your hands back around your legs.

"You need to talk about it. I understand that you are upset but you need to move on. Miguel O'Hara doesn't deserve you and it's time that you made a move to leave him and the Spider-Society. I was looking at the computer while you were reading his log - the best way to live in another universe without it collapsing is to find a universe where a version of you never existed. We need to get the things we need and find a place where we don't exist and make that place our new home. We can protect it and never have to worry about the Spider-Society." Venom explained. You blinked and listened to the Symbiote before nodding and getting out of bed and collecting everything you needed from the money you've been collecting from birthdays and some clothes before burning your personal documents so you never existed in this world.

After putting on your backpack, you headed back to the Spider-Society and made your way to Miguel's Research. There, you discovered a universe where neither you nor Venom existed: Earth-564B. Using the Go-Home Machine, you set a course for this new universe and stood on the platform as the White Spider Machine enveloped you in a webbed dome, teleporting you to your destination. As you traveled through the Time Tunnel, you couldn't help but feel excited about your new home. The portal opened on top of a building in bustling New York City at night. You quickly ran off the building and began swinging through the city, keeping an ear out for any trouble. However, before doing anything else, you needed to obtain new documents.

[One Month Later - Afer The Universe Collasped]

Miguel returned to the Spider-Society after the world he had been living him collapsed and the people were gone, including the daughter he took was his own. He walked out of the total with tears in his eyes before he looked around and was that he was alone in the Spider-Society, he jumped up to his platform and looked at the image of him and the daughter he took that was now gone - looking at her, she looked just like his daughter - the one he abandoned - [Name]. He looked at his desk and noticed something - A Bracelet - [Name's] Bracelet. He picked it up and looked around, she was here, she knew he left her bracelet there. Did she find out why he had left?

"Lyla! Where is [Name]?" Miguel asked his A.I. Assistant who materialized over his shoulder and looked rather upset.

"She's not here, anymore. She found a location where she and Venom didn't exist and decided to take that universe as her home." Lyla explained, causing him to look at his assistant with wide red eyes.

"What do you mean she left?! Where has she gone?! Why would she leave?!" Miguel asked Lyla.

"Are you serious, Miguel? You're seriously wondering why she left you and decided to go to another universe to make a home for herself?! You ABANDONED HER, MIGUEL!!! YOU CALLED HER A BURDEN AND TRIED TO TRADE HER FOR A ANOTHER VERSION OF HER AFTER THAT FATHER WAS GONE AND YOU CAUSED A UNIVERSAL COLLAPSE BECAUSE OF YOUR GREED! SHE WAS SICK OF BEING IGNORED AND NEGLECTED BY HER FATHER!!!" Lyla yelled at Miguel before fading away, leaving the man alone as she looked at his daughter's bracelet in his hand. His daughter was gone and it was his fault. He was going to find her and make everything right at first, he needed to find out what universe she went to.

#spiderverse #yandere miguel o'hara #female reader #daughter reader #venom symbiote

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dootdootwriting · 1 year

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Oooh is it possible to request scenarios with the Liyue boys having a Kitsune s/o (that also has a teasing side like Yae Miko)

featuring: childe; xiao; zhongli; baizhu (new!) tw: teasing, spoilers (?) in baizhu's (for content not released yet) type: fluff, established relationship, mentions of chronic illness in baizhu's, slightly suggestive in childe's part, sparring in childe's part pronouns used: none a/n: multitasking writing this and using my 113 arena tickets in crk <3 i am so sick of those hollyberry/moonlight/pv combos </3 die in agony <3

utc for length as usual!

BAIZHU

In the name of Rex Lapis, if that man overworked himself one more time you would force him into paid vacation.

This was not the first time Baizhu had collapsed at work, and certainly would not be the last. With his condition, of course it would happen, that in itself wasn't what bothered you -- it was the fact that, despite being perfectly able to keep track of his symptoms and react accordingly, your much beloved partner always insisted on continuing his work.

"You know," you hummed, hauling him gently off the floor, "if you wanted to see me home early so badly, you didn't need to go to all these lengths."

Baizhu managed a smile and a light huff in recognition. "You know I would spare you the trouble if I could."

"Trouble? Taking care of you is nothing but a pleasure." Baizhu's bed, thankfully, was not far away, and you sat him upright on the mattress, checking his breathing and heartbeat for any irregularities. Fortunately, you didn't find any, so you gave Baizhu the OK to start work again -- SLOWLY -- along with a soft kiss on his head.

"Thank you," Baizhu called before you left, "for not making me feel like a burden."

"Are you kidding? Getting to see your gorgeous face every day is a blessing from the archons themselves."

Though you had your back turned, you could feel his blush, from all the way across the room.

CHILDE

"Can't keep up?" came the ever-familiar sneer from a few feet away. You sprung back up to your feet and leveled your daggers at Childe, who insisted on sparring every weekend as a "couple's bonding activity." You weren't sure if he liked showing off or getting rough better.

"You wish," you shot back, and within the blink of an eye you were on him. With one knife just grazing his jugular and the other tossed aside to pin his arms behind his back, you sneered back at him. "What's the matter big boy, cat got your tongue?"

For half a second, you could see your boyfriend's thought process stop abruptly. His eyes widened and his mouth parted, light traces of the start of a blush making itself clear across his freckle-covered cheeks.

And then he was back to his usual self. "Okay, you win!" he dropped the spear he'd been using, raising his arms up in a surrender motion and backing a few steps away.

"I swear, you get me every time when you talk like that..."

XIAO

As much as Xiao loved you, he sure didn't visit you very often. It wasn't intentional or anything -- he was just new to the whole relationship thing, and he wasn't exactly the best at, well, quality time.

So, naturally, you put on your best outfit, made sure you were looking snazzy, and went to wait for him at the Wangshu Inn. Verr Goldet recognized you as soon as you walked in and let you upstairs. Now all there was left to do was wait.

Xiao's room wasn't much, honestly; a bed mostly for you and a dresser and a rug was all that was anything close to decoration. You recognized a vase of qingxin flowers, a gift from you a few months ago, now sitting on the windowsill and wilting despondently.

"Who let you in here?"

Xiao had appeared in the doorway, silhouette illuminated by the light in the hallway.

"What do you mean who let me in here? Verr Goldet did, of course. And besides," you said, making your way over to him and taking his face in your hands, "you owe me some time together. With the way you've been avoiding me you'd think you didn't want me anymore~!"

Xiao looked back at you, horrified, as you laughed lightly.

"Only joking, dear. But really, we have some catching up to do."

ZHONGLI

If you had told any of the adepti a century ago that in a hundred years the venerable Rex Lapis would be seen in human form wandering the harbor with a silver-tongued partner, they would have reacted one of two ways, depending on the adeptus.

"Absolutely not, no way in hell," or "Archons, that's a relief. He needs a break."

He did, of course, need a break. And that's where you came in. Because after centuries of violence and upholding peace over an entire region, anyone would get tired and want to settle down. And though that's exactly what Zhongli did, he would occasionally feel the need to continue on with work at the funeral parlor long past overtime.

"Aw, and leave me all alone to watch the ships tonight? I really thought our little tradition meant something to you," you would pout, giving him a hopeful glance. Zhongli, of course, knew exactly what you were playing at.

"Well, alright. I suppose I can spend a few hours with you tonight." Your persuasion and good nature was always exactly what he needed to make sure he was taking enough care of himself and you.

"Only a few?"

#genshin x reader #baizhu x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #xiao x reader #zhongli x reader #baizhu #childe #tartaglia #xiao #zhongli #gn!reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader

359 notes · View notes

sleeping-sirens · 1 year

Text

lips ღ lee jeno

pairing : jeno x fem reader (reader is called sweetheart but could also be gn)

genre : soulmate!au (telepathy + matching tattoos + healing bond + mind reading), established relationship, fluff, romance, a bit of angst if you squint.

summary : jeno had come yet again from another one of his underground fights, all bruised and scratched up and reader is so worried about him.

word count : 1944 words.

warnings : mentions of blood, injuries, wounds, kisses, slightly suggestive towards the end.

a/n : i wrote this oneshot back in 2021 :0 so not that proud of it :(

i’m publishing it here mainly for 🍬 anon! thank you for your sweet words and encouragement, hope you like it 😔

masterlist

buy me a coffee 🥹🫶🏼

Heart racing inside your chest, you're pacing around the room while nervously fiddling with your fingers. A deep sigh leaves your clogged throat, wanting nothing more than to crumble and succumb to your sobs.

Your lips are bruised by now from how much you've been biting on them for the past hour. Your eyes roam around the room feeling lost in a world of your own, fear and worrisome bubbling from the pit of your stomach and crawling up your throat, lining your eyes with tears. You don't want to let your weakness take over you. At least not until he comes back.

The black screen of the TV is matching the sky outside, dark and lonely with only you in the middle, not knowing what to do and how to react. The broadcast has ended long ago, and you're now just waiting impatiently for Jeno to return home.

The clock hanging on the wall behind you seems to tick more slowly than ever, the sound of it resonating in the eerily silent living room, conducting an irregular melody with your staggering breaths accompanied by your crazy heartbeats.

Without noticing, your teeth take your fingers hostage, your nerves weighing down on you and tugging on your heartstrings like it's their last lap in a competitive race with nobody but you. Anxiety clouds your mind with thoughts that refrain you from thinking straight. On top of being worried about him, you're furious at yourself for being in this state while he needs you the most right now.

Taking your head in between your hands, you clasp the sides of your face and shut your eyes, completely messed up and failing at concentrating on what you should do. With many attempts at activating your telepathy connection with Jeno, you fall victim to the trap made only by you.

When you hear faint knocks on the door, you stumble around to open it. Your eyes meet two pairs of eyes already looking at you with pain swirling inside them, anticipating your reaction. In the middle of your frenzied state, you notice the slumped body squished between Doyoung and Jaemin, shoulders dropping as if he has no bones to hold his muscles up and head looking down feebly.

Your arms fly to your soulmate, and you hug him tightly, forgetting about his bruised body, and he lets out a pained wince, causing you to take a step back and open the door wider for his friends to get him inside the house. Pressing your lips together to conceal the sob that wants to leave your body, you heavy-heartedly look at him struggling to walk on his feet.

They gently put him down on the couch, tucking his shivering body under the fuzzy blanket that you had already prepared for him. You saunter to the kitchen and pull a bottle of water from the fridge, returning quickly to the living room before you crouch down in front of him, handing the bottle to him.

Unable to make a move, Jeno only lifts his arm to shield his eyes from the blinding lights assaulting his blurry vision. Concern filling you to the brim, you sigh, lowering your head on the couch, reaching over to hold his hand.

Doyoung nudges Jaemin and they both exchange knowing gazes, silently getting out of the apartment and leaving you two alone.

"My precious boy..." You whisper, getting closer to Jeno's burning body and brushing the blue strands of hair sticking to his forehead from sweat.

"Can you please turn off the lights?" He croaks out gruffly, voice hoarse and weak from the lack of energy in his body.

You immediately oblige and run back to him, only having the side lamp as a source of light. You hesitantly push his arm away from his eyes so that you can see his face. His eyes gently open to focus on you, but in vain, your face still looks blurry to him. Jeno throws his head back with a groan, doubling his efforts to sit up straight on the couch.

"Come here," He welcomes you to his stretched arms and you carefully join him, cocooning yourself in his warm embrace.

"I'm sorry I couldn't keep you company on your way back," You shyly admit. "I couldn't bring myself to concentrate."

"It's okay, sweetheart." Jeno winces in pain when he wraps his arms around you and you worriedly look up at him.

You can clearly see his face now. Bloody scratches are littering his entire face, some cuts too deep with dried blood circling them, and some still fresh and glistening with crimson. The corner of his left eye is turning blue as your eyes travel all over his face, and when your vision settles down, you see the corner of his lips bruised and damaged badly than the other parts of his face.

Sensing you looking at him, Jeno glances down at you and tries his hardest to smile at you without triggering his wounds, but he fails badly, which causes him to groan and hiss at how painful his injuries are. Your fingers hesitantly fly up to his lips, gently skimming over the dried blood, and he closes his eyes, concentrating on your healing touch.

Your senses perk up and you close your eyes to activate the healing bond between you and your soulmate, scooting your body as close to his as possible, uniting your emotions and thoughts and making your souls feel like one.

Jeno hums in contentment, feeling the bond gradually getting to every injury and bruise in his body, sucking in the warmth you're spreading all over him and healing him in more ways than one. He's feeling grateful to have you by his side when he needs you the most, and he wants you to know just that.

"I'm sorry," He suddenly says, leaning his head on top of yours that's resting on his shoulders, and caressing your side with the gentle tips of his fingers.

You heavily sigh, not wanting to break weak in front of him again. Not because he hates it or because you feel ashamed, but this isn't the first time he's come home all scratched up and you have to heal him.

You're always worrying about him during and after each fight.

You have made your opinion about him doing underground fighting clearer than the gleaming linings of the moon that you both have as a soulmate symbol on your wrists, glowing upon your skins and defining you, and bonding you in the universe until the end of times.

The last thing you both want is to upset the other and as much as he knows how much you don't like what he's doing, he can't stop it, and you can't force him to. At first, it was hard to accept it and you guys have had countless fights over this, but as your bond grew strong, your love grew unconditional that you just couldn't let anything separate you.

You're not ready for such heartbreak.

"You don't have to apologize every time you come home after a fight."

"Yes, but-"

"No buts please," you silence him gently. "I'm not mad at you and I will never get mad at you, baby."

"But you're worried now." He insists.

"I'm not." You avoid his eyes.

Jeno bites his lower lips before gliding his tongue across the surface, placing his index and middle finger under your chin to lift your head up. He anchors his piercingly soft gaze on you and you can't help but maintain the eye contact with him, heat slowly bubbling inside your tummy and traveling up your body to reach your face, tinting your cheeks with a rosy blush.

"Don't lie to me," He whispers, leaning his face closer to yours until you're a breath away from each other. You unconsciously part your lips and close your eyes, enjoying his heavy and warm closeness. “I can read your mind."

"I know," you breathe out. "But I also want you to know that I'm not mad and I will never be mad at you for choosing to do something you love. Yes, I get worried, sometimes I feel like my heart will burst out of my chest when I'm watching your fights broadcasts, but I will never force you to stop."

Jeno keeps looking at you with glistening eyes, admiring your supportive words of encouragement and falling deeper and more in love with you than he has ever been. The feelings thumping through his heart with every beat strengthen the soulmate bond, making your own heart speed up its race and causing your breath to hitch inside your throat.

The fingers caressing your chin travel up your face, delivering feather-like touches that leave your skin burning with a new fiery glaze that naturally pulls your body closer to him.

His thumb runs down the side of your face before settling down on your bottom lip, anticipation building up inside of you with every passing second and as Jeno grazes the pad of his finger over your bottom lip, you let out a hitched breath before gaining control over the situation and pulling away from him.

"I really want to kiss you right now," Jeno admits, looking deeply into your eyes and not planning to look anywhere else but at you.

"Your lip is bruised," you reply with a concern-filled voice, and Jeno shakes his head at that.

"Kiss me to make it better." He brushes his nose with yours and slides his arm up from your waist to secure it on the back of your neck. "It'll speed up the healing process."

Before you get the chance to refuse, Jeno's lips softly lay on top of yours. At this moment, nothing matters as you let yourself free fall in love with the softness of his cushion-like lips.

At first, he starts slowly, making sure not to get ahead of himself and feel the pain of the cuts lining his lips. He delivers small kisses, guiding you slowly until you fall into a rhythmic momentum and you both relish in the melodious harmony blooming from within your bond.

Little by little, you both start to feel greedy. It's like your lips have a mind of their own, guiding your bodies even closer together. You place your palms on his chest, the crazy beats of his heart speaking to you from under his skin-tight black shirt.

His staccato breaths send your mind into overdrive and you mindlessly let out a satisfied hum, igniting a fire inside of him he doesn't think he can control. Having you under his arms, with your lips molding against his and your heated body clinging onto his is only encouraging him to push you back on the sofa, landing gently on top of you.

The closeness between you two is helping his body heal faster than he expected. With gentle yet deep kisses, Jeno gets all the energy he needs and you're there to give it all to him.

"I love you." He whispers in between kisses. "So, so much."

Nobody says that love is easy, but when it's with the right person, it exceeds all the boundaries and restrictions and conquers it all.

And as Jeno pulls away from your lips, eyes closed, chest heaving and face heated, you glance up at him with astonishment and appreciation because if he weren't your soulmate, you'd break all the rules just to find him and love him again and again.

"Now that I've secured yet another win," he starts, smiling gently yet sinfully. "Let's celebrate, our own way."

380 notes · View notes

rishiguro · 1 year

Text

BETRAYAL - DABI

a/n: happy (belated) birthday my burnt chicken nugget.

warnings: prohero!reader; literal m*rder; major character death; dabi’s real name; choking; violence; swearing; 4k of angst

“i should have seen this coming,” dabi snarled, his black boot pressing onto your chest as he towered over you, hands in his pockets, “i should’ve known”

you stared up at his dark figure, eyes narrowing at him. the damp ground underneath you was cold, you could feel your clothes absorbing some of the water, sticking against your skin. pebbles pressed against your back, the weight of the villains foot drove them deeper into your body with every passing second.

“any last words, hero?”

you couldn’t see how he had his fists clenched, fingernails digging deep into his skin. he looked at you with hatred, disgust — a look you knew he would send you sooner or later and yet hurt so much.

would he believe you if you said you didn’t want this? would he believe you if you said you never wanted it to be like this? would he believe any word that would hush over your busted lip anymore?

“you don’t have to do this,” you replied calmly, completely contradicting your irregular heartbeat and pressed breaths.

you looked up at his hunched form, his jacket flowing due to the slight wind in the alley. dabi held his head high, his eyes looking at you with disgust and hate.

it has always been only a matter of time until you‘d be subjected to this look of his — a look that was reserved for his enemies and everybody else that would even dare to stand in his way. it was inevitable, obvious that one day you‘d be on the receiving end, you had told yourself this the moment you first came in contact with him. dabi was a villain, a threat to society, a threat to every person that was just peacefully living their life. he was your enemy.

you couldn’t die here. you had a responsibility, a duty to protect the people of this town, this country.

and yet you failed, disappointing everyone in the process. your colleagues, the commission, the civilians. your friends, your family.

“maybe i don’t. but i fucking want to,” the villain huffed through his clenched teeth, putting more of his bodyweight onto your chest, making you wince in pain, “theres nothing i want more than to see you cry out in pain, begging for me to make it stop. to put you out of your misery”

you should have never agreed to this mission, not like you had a choice anyways; not like you would’ve declined anyways. they needed you and who were you to turn your back on them?

looking back, you maybe should have. maybe then you wouldn’t be here with an infamous villain threatening you — killing you. you wouldn’t leave anybody behind, you wouldn’t have violated your duty and you wouldn’t have betrayed your colleagues and your cause.

you wouldn’t have played with the thought to turn your back on them.

how did it get this far?

the weight on your chest lifted and you greedily sucked in a deep breath, filling your lungs with air. yet before you could take in another, you were forcibly grabbed by the shoulders and pulled up, your back soon crashing into a brick wall. you pressed your eyes shut, forcing yourself to not wince in pain.

“maybe i should just set you on fire right here, right now,” dabi continued, one hand on your throat as he stretched the other one out dramatically, “do you think your little hero friend would manage to save you in time?”

you clenched your jaw, hands weakly pulling on the one on your throat.

he turned back to you, his second hand now also closing around your throat, pushing you further into the cold wall, a sadistic smile on his lips. “he’s supposed to be the fastest one after all, isn’t he?”

you kept quiet however, only struggling against the villain‘s hold. you could feel his hands heating up on your skin, eyes slightly widening when you felt the rise in temperature.

“i’m curious”

how could you let it get so far? how could you allow yourself to fall so deep, to betray everyone and mostly betray yourself? and how were you even supposed to live with yourself after this — if you somehow managed to get out of this hopeless situation, that is.

“then kill me. kill me right now and find out,” you managed to reply, keeping your eyes on his face. you knew that you had no way of possibly getting out of this. dabi knew what you did, he knew who you were and he knew why you were with the league, with him. and no matter what, there was no way dabi would forgive you for this.

yet you couldn’t stop yourself from hoping that he would.

the villain tilted his head, his heated hands cooling down. he scoffed. “so willing to die after all?”

no. yes. maybe. you weren’t sure.

no, you didn’t want to die. but could you live on like this, knowing what you did, knowing what you had thought? could you continue your life like this, mentally trying to convince yourself that you did the right thing, that you did what you had to, that no matter what, you did your duty and your duty as a hero came first. waking up every morning to the blank ceiling in your home, your blanket wrapped around your legs, as you tried to believe the mantra you repeated to yourself every day.

how could you stay a hero, smiling at clueless civilians, saving them from villains, knowing that you were no better? knowing that you had considered leaving your hero self behind, leaving your entire life behind? knowing how your entire life you romanticized a flawed and corrupt system and even chose to become a part of it?

but did any of this even matter? at the end of the day, it wasn’t your choice, wasn’t it? your life laid in the hands of the villain in front of you whose hands were literally on your throat.

you closed your eyes in resignation. maybe it was for the best, you thought, slowly coming to terms with your reality. was this your punishment for betraying your morals? “if you could do me one last favor? do it quick”

dabi slightly furrowed his eyebrows. he didn’t want to admit it, but this was the first time he had seen you so passive. it wasn’t like you to not fight, to not yell, to act so defeated. where was your fire, your passion? how dare you not fight back? how dare you be so dejected? you were supposed to give him everything you got, you were supposed to show him just why and how you became a hero, you were supposed to protect yourself and defend yourself, your honor, your pride? how dare you to give him nothing?

how dare you to betray him for nothing?

“give me one reason why i should” dabi clicked his tongue, squeezing your throat. “one fucking reason”

he wanted to hear you plead, beg for your life. give him any reason, your duty, your family, friends, anything and he wouldn’t care. he wanted you to be hopeful, he might even play along and consider allowing you to walk away with severe injuries but still alive. he wanted to see the hope rise in your eyes before he would crush it with his own hands.

you should feel hurt, hopeless, betrayed.

however, what you said, caught dabi by surprise. “you love me,” you stated calmly, eyes piercing through his turquoise ones.

you don’t know what you expected, you don’t even know why you said it. after all, you embodied the very thing he despised more than anything, the one thing he swore to destroy. a shiny hero, adored by the public, that is nothing more than a cruel puppet, willing to do anything to bring the very same people down, that the system you protected with your life, failed to save.

disgusting. why would he love you?

“i don’t,” the villain shot back immediately, voice filled with fury. bringing his head next to yours, you could feel his warm breath on your ear as he continued. “i never did,” he spat angrily.

there was something about him that made you question him. the way his eye twitched, how he pressed his teeth together, how his grip on you tightened, pressing you hard against the concrete wall, like he wanted to bury you inside of it.

“i don’t believe you,” you managed to choke out, shaking in his hold. in return, dabi narrowed his eyes at you, before throwing his head back and erupting in chaotic laughter.

“since when do heroes believe villains anyway? all we do is lie and betray,” he proclaimed, one of his hands letting go of your throat as he gestured into the empty alley, like he was on a stage, reciting a dramatic monologue.

after a few seconds dabi huffed and turned back to you, his lips curled into a sadistic smile, his eyes cold. “didn’t know a hero had it in them too,” he mocked you.

“you’ve lied a lot in your life, touya,” you stated, your words coming out pressed and barely audible as you gasped for air.

“but you can’t lie to me”

dabi — touya — was a lot. a criminal, a villain, a murderer, you knew that. just like he said, he was a liar too. he lied to get his way, he lied to lure people in and he lied just for the fun of it, just because he could. he lied to you too. he tried to put you on the wrong track, he lied to conceal the league’s plans from you because he didn’t trust you when you met, he lied just to annoy you.

but dabi forgot that after all the months you have spend together, you got to knew him and his habits. you inevitably grew closer, talked more and dare you even say understood each other‘s mannerisms. as much as he hated to admit it, you knew him just as well as he knew you.

“i always lie, to everyone,” the villain claimed boldly, the cold smile still on his lips. he sounded so condescending as he continued to mock you. “surely you’re not so arrogant to think that you’re an exception”

how dare you tell him that you know him? how dare you tell him that you don’t believe him? you lied, deceived, so why would you think he wouldn’t do the same?

“i’m going to fucking enjoy this”

“what’s there to enjoy”

much to your surprise, a laugh erupted from dabi.

“i wanted to kill you the moment you were brought to us,” he claimed, face inching closer to yours as he placed his hand on your cheek, the warmth of his palm sending shivers down your back. dabi hummed. “see the life drain out of your eyes and hear you scream like the pathetic thing you are”

“but you didn’t,” you replied stiffly, staring at the villain in front of you. his breath was hot on your lips, he was close, way too close given the situation you were in.

but you knew this look, you were familiar with how his scars looked up close, his triple pierced nostril and every patch of burned skin on his flesh.

“i didn’t,” he confirmed, nodding slightly. he ripped himself away from you right after, eyes narrowing again as he examined your face. the cold air hit you immediately, you felt like your cheeks were burning. “but no one can stop me now”

you tried to take a deep breath again, holding your chin high, trying your best to stand your ground. “then get it over with”

and again he laughed, his voice booming through the dark alley.

“why? i should drag this out, shouldn’t i?” he asked rhetorically, his mind already made up.

dabi wanted you like this. resigned, afraid, hopeless, at his mercy. looking at him with watchful eyes, over-analyzing every movement, no matter how small, and bracing yourself for the moment he would strike. you looked like a cornered animal, completely helpless. pathetic.

“a pro hero, right here, just willing to die by my hands. what a sight for sore eyes”

he smirked, inching his face closer to you again, only stopping when you could feel his hot breath on your ear. “that’s not something i get to enjoy every day”

“you’re torturing yourself”

dabi hummed again, much to your surprise even nodding his head slightly at your statement before shrugging. “who cares? nothing will satisfy me more than to kill you myself”

“then do it!” you screamed back, resisting against his hold of you again, only to earn a raised brow from the villain.

you knew he wouldn’t let you go, no matter what you were to say. threats, promises, nothing could persuade him. you were mere minutes away from death and nothing in your power could stop it from happening.

no one could stop it and no one would come to save you.

“go on. kill me. leave me here to rot for all i care. but when i‘m gone, there will be no one left who ever loved you“

from the very first moment you saw him, you knew who he was and what he had done, obviously you did. you had every piece of information available on every member of the league that you knew of. you knew their stories.

but him?

dabi was a blank space, a mystery. it was like he had just appeared one day, desperate to cause chaos and destruction wherever he went. and as much as you hated to admit it, that was what was so interesting about him, what almost drew you in. you wanted to know more, you needed to know more. what could make a person drive to kill innocents with seemingly no motive, haunt the streets of the city at night, causing panic wherever he went just because he could?

it wasn’t easy to find out more about him — mostly because nobody, not even the people that called themselves his friends, knew anything. he was a closed and locked book, nobody having the key to even read one page of him.

“shut up,” he shouted back, violently pushing you against the wall again. your head began to spin at the impact, vision flooding with a few tears before it cleared again. “shut the fuck up”

you didn’t know how you actually got closer to him and you certainly didn’t know why he decided to open up to you. was it some form of bait? was it genuine? at this point, you weren’t sure what you would prefer.

if it was nothing more than bait, trying to make you feel safe around him, trying to lure you in, you had to accept that the villain managed just that. he pulled you in and dragged you down, just like he had planned.

but what if it was genuine? what if he confided in you because he trusted you, because he believed that even though you were his enemy, something was different? that somehow you could leave this behind, that it didn’t matter and that you were someone he could trust. someone that wouldn’t ever betray him.

but at the end, you did. at heart, you were a hero after all, the commission‘s puppet, willing to protect the fragile legs your system stood on — not caring if you hurt people in the process and certainly not caring about the ones your system kicked away like trash.

all you knew was that he told you. he told you of the little boy touya. he told you of his family, his father. he told you about the shoes touya had to fill and how at the end it was so easy to just toss him aside.

and you comforted him, as much as you could. you showed sympathy and you felt pity. pity for the boy that wanted to become a hero more than anything, the boy that was turned away. a boy that was hurt so deeply that he had nothing left anymore.

“no one, touya”

what kind of person were you to exploit this very part of him?

“don’t call me that,” he demanded immediately, expression changing to one full of anger. there was no touya.

“that’s your name,” you only stated.

what were you trying to do? trying to appeal in the hopeful and ambitious boy inside of him? were you seriously hoping that this would change anything?

“touya died the day dabi was born,” the villain claimed loudly, eyes shut tightly as he spoke.

there was no more touya. touya died on a hill, leaving his childish dreams of being a hero and proving himself behind. dabi was all that mattered now. he found a new purpose, a goal in him and he would allow nothing and no one to stand in his way.

“i don’t believe you”

“i don’t care,” dabi spat back immediately, voice still booming as his palm heated up against your throat, your eyes widening when you felt the rapid rise in temperature, squirming in his hold. “it means jack shit to me”

you could hear how shallow his breathing was, how he tried to regain control of himself. slowly but surely his palm cooled down again.

“just like you” his eyes scanned your face again, narrowing slightly.

“hero” you knew of his, and frankly, the league‘s, distaste for you and your fellow heroes. the supposed protectors of society, yet the ones that cause the rise of villains in the first place. you saw how they rolled their eyes whenever someone even dared to mention a hero name, how their jaw clenched and how they loudly proclaimed that heroes were the true villains. but this was the first time that dabi had spat your profession, your cause, your entire being right at your feet.

“what are you waiting for?” you asked again, trying to ignore how heavy your chest felt.

the villain clicked his tongue and shook his head. “i’m surprised you care so little about your own life,” he said sighing. “aren’t you supposed to fight till the end?”

wasn’t this already the end? what was left for you to fight for? and even if you did, even if by some wonder you managed to escape what would you do? how could you return knowing you had betrayed everything you ever stood for?

“scared to kill me after all?”

and again, dabi shook his head, looking at you almost like he was about to claim that you didn’t know him like you claimed to after all. “scared?” he repeated, tilting his head. “i’m practically dying to see you go up in flames”

with a sadistic smile on his lips he looked around, eyes halting when he looked above you, analyzing the terrible state the building was in. “who knows, maybe i’ll set the house on fire too”

“you’re cruel,” you spat, shaking in his hold again.

dabi wasn’t surprised to see you attempting to fight back, even though you knew the fight was lost. a true hero at heart after all, willing to do everything in their power and even more to protect innocent civilians.

“and yet you love me,” he stated, eyes turning back to you. “now tell me, isn’t that cruel too? loving a ruthless murderer?”

it was. you hated it and you hated yourself for it. he was a villain, a murderer just like he said, someone who actively fought against everything you stood for, someone who was about to kill you and yet you loved him.

“you’re pathetic,” dabi spat, throwing your weak body onto the ground. you groaned when you collided with the wet asphalt, pain shooting through your every limb. your chest moved fast with every shallow breath you took, trying to regain your composure and clearing your clouded senses.

meanwhile dabi crouched down beside you, feigning sympathy at your pained expression. he reached out, his fingers softly caressing your cheek before gripping your chin harshly and forcing you to look at him.

“guess that is goodbye,” he sighed, purposefully giving you a sad look, before a smirk adorned his dry lips. igniting the palm of his hand he pointed it towards you. “after all, i never liked it when anybody interrupted us during our fun times”

the villain stood up, looking down at you with a cold expression, his earlier smile nowhere in sight. “burn in hell, hero”

you closed your eyes for just a second, silently apologizing for the things you‘ve done and the things you failed to do.

you apologized to your friends and family for leaving them behind like this, knowing the only closure that they were going to get was that you were murdered in an alleyway, supposedly by none other than the infamous dabi.

you apologized to your fellow heroes, because you knew how hard it could be to lose another hero, a colleague, a friend.

you apologized to hawks for compromising not just your but also his image with the league, effectively ending his cover and endangering your mission.

you apologized the hero commission, disappointed in yourself for failing them.

you apologized to touya for hurting him, betraying him. you never wanted for it to get this far.

you apologized to everyone because no matter how you looked at it, you betrayed them — hero or villain.

and lastly, you apologized to yourself, wanting nothing more than being able to forgive yourself for your inner chaos.

and yet, you couldn’t help but just wonder about how things might have been if you hadn’t agreed to this. you could have prevented so much pain on every side, so much distrust, so much hurt, so many lies.

you wouldn’t have forgotten who you were, what you stood for and what your duty was. you wouldn’t even have considered not only retiring as a hero, but going underground, fleeing from every promise you ever made, escaping from your duty. and if all of this wasn’t enough, you weren’t even ashamed to admit that you wanted to to it with a villain.

leaving this society behind, leaving everything behind that made you who you were to live out the rest of your days with a person that was the embodiment of everything that was wrong with the system you protected.

“i’ll wait for you, touya”

shortly after, dabi turned his back to the now charred body on the dirty floor, closing his eyes as he lazily walked away. kicking a pebble away with force, he hushed around a corner, disappearing into the shadows as he heard the first terrified scream from the poor soul that came across what used to be a beloved pro hero.

the image of you smiling as you spoke his last words to him clouded his mind, not allowing him to think about anything else but you.

you betrayed the league, you betrayed him. you used him. you lied to him.

the villain huffed in disgust, clicking his tongue. of course he was happy that you wouldn’t be there to bother him anymore. you couldn’t lie to him anymore, you couldn’t use him anymore.

you couldn’t hurt him anymore.

dabi was glad that you were gone — dead — and he was more than elated that he was there to see you as your life force burned away. after all, you were nothing but a way to get information, a puppet he could use to achieve his dream one day. you were part of a corrupt system, a willing participant, that used their shiny imagine to lure people in and prevent them from seeing what a bunch of hypocrites was actually hiding behind it.

only a dead hero was a good hero.

the sound of dabi‘s fist clashing with the tough concrete wall disrupted the comfortable silence he was walking in. with dull eyes the villain looked at his bruised knuckles, his already bloodied skin now turning even darker.

but why did you have to be a hero?

reblogs are appreciated

#₊❏❜ ⋮myheroacademia #dabi x you #mha x reader #dabi angst #todoroki touya x you #dabi x reader #mha angst #dabi headcanons #dabi scenarios #dabi imagine #touya todoroki x reader #mha scenarios #mha imagines #mha dabi #mha headcanons

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sentoooo · 3 months

Text

"ᴄᴀɴ ɪ ɢᴇᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴏꜱᴇ ᴄʟᴏᴛʜᴇꜱ?" ⨟ ᴋᴇɴꜱʜɪ x ꜰᴛᴍ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ⨟ 18+

pretty self indulgent, maybe for comfort? my sex drive is going HAYWIRE, and thats also kind of why im not writing much nsfw requests rn. cause like one minute i am just super in the mood for angst, or fluff, and then the next im horny. mainly always super in the mood for fluff, but. uhm. kenshi DOES things to my mind...

cw: NSFW, ftm reader, afab, he/him pronouns, pre top surgery, vaginal sex, protected sex babyyyyy, slight cokcwarming, porn with little plot, slight body worship, i swear i don't have a favorite, proofread word count: 3,292. been in my drafts for a bit. finished this at 3:30 am. i am going to sleep for 12 hours now. MINORS DNI

The night was quiet, a soft, dull feeling fell Kenshi as he woke up, propping his upper body up with his elbows. He took a minute to listen to the stillness of the world, something that never changed despite the ever-burning chaos woven within the threads of time. He hummed to himself, tilting his head slightly as if he expected something to reach out to him within the silence. Only for a moment did his expectations lie, until he heard you stir next to him. Your back was turned, he could tell by how far your slow breathing seemed.

"I can't sleep," Kenshi started, mindlessly reaching for you. His hand landed on your forearm, his thumb simply trailing along your skin. He heard you turn your head to look at him, so he continued. "What has you up...?"

You didn't respond for a moment, letting his question hang in the air for a couple of seconds. "Nothing special," You smile softly at your boyfriend, your voice still addled with sleep.

Kenshi turns his head towards you, raising an eyebrow. He traced his hand down to your wrist. "Keep me company?" He asked in a hushed voice, acting as if he was going to pull you back into bed with him. Without a word, you accepted his invitation, and took your place next to him in the bed once again. With this, he found your hand and interlocked his fingers with yours, simply looking in your direction. Perhaps it was a useless gesture, but he wanted you to know he at least acknowledged your presence, even with his sight gone.

The moment was tender, Kenshi leaned onto his side, and placed his left hand on your waist. He pulled you slightly closer, tracing the back of your hand with his thumb. Resting your head on his shoulder, you revel in his warmth and body. Your right hand makes its way up to his chest, lazily following the slightly worn ink of his tattoos. Kenshi kissed the crown of your head, humming softly.

Moments like these were the reason Kenshi fell in love with you so hard, getting to hold you close in those sleepless nights, bathe in your presence. Your touch, so warm and inviting, tender and loving. To know you loved him, even on starless nights, even with all his sins carved into his arms. He did not need repentance, for you were the holiest, warmest light he had encountered. How lucky, he thought, that you were here in his arms. Willingly. Spending each night and day with him. He could not imagine a better life.

Kenshi's left hand found the small of your back, pulling you near on top of his body in search to quell his yearning. His right hand freed itself from your hand, only to rest on the nape of your neck. You could feel his heartbeat, only slightly irregular. His body temperature rose, his breathing slightly stuttering. How he enjoyed this, having you in such close proximity to him. If he could keep you like this forever, he would. Slowly, his hand traced down from your neck to your spine, relishing the little noises you made. His touch was electrifying, no matter how many times you fell into his arms. He knew just the right ways to tease you, to bring you closer, to let you know of his want.

You raised your head, looking for some sort of sign other than content from your boyfriend. A small smirk, just barley noticeable. His face ever so flush. You smile a bit to yourself, pushing yourself from Kenshi's chest. Before he can protest, you throw your left leg over his waist, straddling him. His hands fall to your waist, his head turning up to you. A meager gesture once more, yet he wanted to acknowledge what you were doing. Playing into your teasing.

"Well...?" Kenshi prompted. He was waiting for you, his patience was wearing thin. To pull away from him, there must have been a reason, right? How he wanted you close again, his fingers softly digging into your waist.

You gave him what he wanted, leaning down and placing a soft kiss on his lips. It was quick, yet somehow... scandalous. You felt Kenshi beneath you relax, only for a second. When you pulled away, he near pouted. How curious, to see a man of his standing suddenly melting into your hands. To reward him for this vulnerability, you leaned back down. Your lips pressed against his, Kenshi melted into the kiss rather quickly. He was... desperate. He almost pushed himself up into the kiss. How warm it was, how could you tease him like this? When you pulled away once more, he whimpered.

"Don't leave me like this," Kenshi placed his right hand on the small of your back, pushing you back into him. "Please." He didn't beg, but his voice quivered. It was a sensual moment, something he had always sought out. This feeling was something he wished he could hold, trap you in his arms forever. When your lips brushed against his, he pushed himself back into you. Don't keep yourself away from him, don't even try. His hand then snaked up your spine, to the nape of your neck. He held you there, his kiss becoming more hungry. Yet, as lustful as he was, it was... delicate. Passionate. Every drop of love for you resonated within the kiss. It made your head spin. Only then did he pull away, at the last second, where you thought you would've lost your breath.

Within Kenshi's touch burned something new, his thumb caressed your neck. Before you could understand just what he was feeling, he closed the distance between you two once more. This time, Kenshi moaned into the kiss, digging his nails into your waist ever so slightly. You lost yourself, this time. Even when Kenshi pulled away, the warmth of him trailing from your lower lip, to your chin, to your neck... ah, how invigorating this felt. He let his appetite be known, how his lips lingered over your soft skin. And not before long, he bit down on your shoulder gently.

"Mh," You let your appreciation slip from your lips, raising your head just slightly so he could get a better angle. At that, you felt a heat rise against your inner thigh, and below you, Kenshi cleared his throat. He was pulling your attention to his lips, you can wait, he knows you can. His teeth trace along your neck, moving back up towards your chin. His breath hot against your sensitive skin, teasing you.

"Be still, my Dear," Kenshi smiles against your skin, placing a soft, warm kiss on your jaw. "You can feel me, yes...?" His voice is taunting, almost begging you to tell him the truth. Yet, he does not wait for your answer. "Just what you do to me, mh, I want... I want to take care of you," A declaration of love, yet the implication was lewd. Your hands find his cheeks, warm, his stubble, slightly scratchy. Now, he pushes his upper body up, placing his hands once more on your waist. In doing so, the full length of his need brushed up against the cloth of your boxers. Kenshi sighed, the gentle friction providing slight relief. Yet, he was not done. He placed his forehead against yours, his nose brushing against yours. How scandalous his touch might be, yet he loved you with all the passion, the longing, the devotion in the world.

Kenshi does not kiss you, as close as you are to him. He does not move from this position. His thumbs toy and tease with the band of your boxers, his breath shakes, but he does not advance. He revels in your breathing, the ever-so quiet beating of your heart, picking up its pace. Above all, he can feel your yearning. He can feel you. An old, oversized band t-shirt drapes over your torso, the only thing keeping him away from your chest. And your boxers, he can feel you behind them, as well. Such thin cloth, but he feels your warmth, how slowly you seep out in search of him. In preparation. Kenshi's devilish smirk and sensual touch is near enough to arouse you, if you were not already.

Kenshi's gruff voice once again breaks the silence, his fingers caressing your sides. "May I?" He asks, fidgeting with your shirt. You nod, but this is not enough for Kenshi. "Please?"

"Yes," You consent, giving Kenshi what he wanted. He was quick, his hands tracing from your stomach, to your ribs, and resting just below your breasts. He paused, letting out a soft sigh. As if he was just as hesitant as you.

Another dull, quiet hum enters the atmosphere. Comforting. Kenshi places another quick peck on your lips, before continuing. His hands cup your tits, gently. Almost as if you were made of porcelain. "My Boy," He whispers against your lips, his fingers drawing half circles around your nipples. His touch was intoxicating, you arch your back ever so slightly, your breasts pressing gently against his chest. He smiles at this, your eagerness bringing a rising heat through his throat. "Can I get you out of these clothes?"

Oh, how you loved how Kenshi asked. For every little thing. Your voice was his driving force. Yet, before he continued, he leaned back, his hands leaving your body. A bitter feeling threw itself over your body, the lack of his touch leaving you empty. Kenshi had laid back down, reaching towards the bedside stand. He struggled a little, opening the top drawer with his pinky and rifling through an assortment of junk. After a couple seconds, he finally found what he was looking for. A small box of trojans, two condoms left. He separates the condoms packaging from one another, holding the packet with his teeth.

Kenshi wastes no time to return to your body, pressing himself even closer this time. Through your shirt, your breasts squish against him. He chuckles softly, through his teeth. Before you complain, his hands reach underneath your shirt, pulling it up and over your head quickly. You shivered slightly, the cool air hitting your naked torso. But Kenshi kept you close, his hands reaching past the band of your boxers. Only for a second did he pause, bucking his hips and rubbing his clothed erection against you. You moaned in response, your body somehow overly sensitive. At this, Kenshi finally freed you of your boxers, letting you leave his body only for a minute to throw them on the floor.

"Hm," Kenshi hummed, as you returned to straddling him. His right hand returned to your breast, gently squeezing and massaging the soft mound of flesh. His left hand grabbed your wrist, guiding your hand to the hem of his boxers. He leans in towards your ear, his teeth lingering over the shell of your ear. "Whenever you're ready." Kenshi instructed, his thumb running over your knuckles, before his hand found it's place on your thigh.

You look down at Kenshi, grinding slightly against his clothed cock. The tip pressed against your clit, sending a wave of pleasure through your body. You were teasing him. He knew. He frowned slightly, nibbling gently at your ear. You sighed, the pleasant stimulation of his cock against your pussy and the warmth of his breath against your ear left your spine tingling. You couldn't wait any longer, hooking your thumbs into the band of his boxers, pulling them down all too eagerly. You barley allow him time to readjust and kick his boxers off.

Yet, before he readies you, he tears open the condom packet, quickly rolling it over his cock. Almost too quickly, he could not hide his excitement. You groan a little, impatient and ready. "Kenshi," You whisper, your voice quivering. "I need you." A tantalizingly pure statement.

"Patience," Kenshi warned, digging his fingers into your thigh. His right hand left your chest, holding you by your waist once more. He adjusted your position, spreading his legs a little underneath you. Finally, his cock pressed against your opening, twitching in response to your warmth and wetness. Kenshi groaned, rolling his head back slightly. He could barely hold back.

Kenshi lowered his head, resting it against your collarbone, just above your tits. He holds you by your hips now, his hands firm. He lifts you slightly, positioning you just above his dick. You let out a soft groan at the touch, how full his tip felt against your beckoning pussy. He relishes in this reaction, finally settling you down on his cock slowly. Deeper it reaches through your folds, every inch leaving both you and Kenshi to moan in tandem. Until finally, he fills you up completely. Kenshi throws his head back once again, letting out a lengthy breath.

Blessed relief. Your walls squeezed against Kenshi- perhaps it was the girth, or maybe just how good he made you feel. Your yearning spilling around his cock, trailing down to his thighs. He held you firmly like this, his right hand supporting you by your back. You shudder against his touch, every movement sending a wave of pleasure up your spine. You moan simply at how full he made you feel, feeling every vein, his warmth, his want.

Finally, Kenshi helps you get started. He pulls back slightly, and you begin to grind against him. Lifting yourself up, down, up, down, a sweet trail of your juices connecting to the base of his cock. Each movement earned a moan from your lips, each sound prettier than the last. Kenshi's lips found your neck once more, leaving a soft trail of kisses from your jaw to your shoulder. Retracing this trail two times over. His left hand pressed firmly into your waist, guiding your movements.

"Oh, My Heart..." Kenshi groaned, his hoarse voice against your neck. He bites at your neck now, sucking gently. Leaving the first mark of many tonight. He keeps your pace steady, controlled. Your hands find the back of his head, tangling your fingers within his soft hair. Kenshi rewards you for this, letting out another lengthy moan. He bucks his hips up into you, reveling in your surprise. You lean your body against his, hiding your head in the crook of his neck. To feel the vibrations of your moans, your curses, every little thing coming from your lips, it is heaven. It feels as if it stimulates him more than your pussy.

Kenshi continues this steady pace, almost tormenting you as you try and beg for more. "Please..." You moan against his neck, breathy and soft. But he denies you this, bringing his left hand closer to your core, closer, closer... but not close enough. You whine, tugging gently at Kenshi's hair, pulling his head away from your neck. "Please!" You cry out, pressing yourself further into him every time you met the base of his cock. He smirks, and lets out a gruff chuckle. Something devilish lingers within, remnants of sin rising within his touch.

"If you are so sure..." You can hear the mischief in Kenshi's voice, and not a moment after, you feel his warm thumb press gently against your clit. A moan escapes your lips before you feel the shock of pleasure, warm, inviting, intoxicating, run through your body. He rubs slow circles against your clit, now using his right hand to control your pace. "Oh...?" Kenshi taunts, listening to you whimper and moan and slur your words, the extra sensitive nerves seems to have gotten you riled up. Just the way he wanted.

When you pulled away from him, throwing your head back and arching your back once more, Kenshi took advantage of this. He placed a kiss on your sternum, finally picking up the pace. He couldn't deny you this pleasure, he could not be so unfair with the light of his life. You felt him smile against your sensitive skin, lewd slapping and squelching started to echo within the room. With each kiss he placed, he pressed you down into him. From your chest, up to your collar bone,- where he left another mark- to your neck, leaving a hot trail up to your chin, and finally, your bottom lip.

Kenshi moans softly into your mouth, taking advantage of your vulnerable state. He pulls you in slightly closer, kissing you deeply. He rewards you once more, biting your lip ever so slightly, before his tongue enters your mouth. It's clear, he's providing every kind of stimulation he can to get you going. He wants you to cum. So badly.

Kenshi's thumb continues rubbing your clit, a steady pace as opposed to the rougher, faster pace he's been drilling into you. Every thrust, every circle, it all brings you closer and closer. It breaks you, nearly. Kenshi only pulls away when he begins to lose his breath, simply listening to your increasing moans. Somewhere in between them, he can hear his name, slurred, but still beautiful nonetheless. Without a word, he leans back slightly, angling himself juuuust right... and with another thrust, you scream his name.

"Mhm," Kenshi sounded breathless, each thrust hitting that sweet, sweet spot. Paired with his attention to your clit, you felt that burning pressure build up below your stomach. Your eyes rolled back, your moans devolving into nothing but slurred and inaudible speech, the only coherent thing was Kenshi's name on your lips. "Let me hear you."

You obey, your hands finding his shoulders and digging your nails into them. You only get louder each passing second, the pressure building, sending waves and waves of electricity through your body. Your voice began to grow hoarse, scratchy. Kenshi moved in to attack your neck, now. Yet, you could hear him. His moans became louder, he couldn't hold them in anymore. He wasn't holding back, either. He fucked up into you with such a desire, such primal lust. A yearning that could not be quelled, no matter how disciplined Kenshi may be. He leaves hickies all down your neck, his kisses growing sloppier with his thrusts.

"Ah- fffuhhhhh.. D-arling," Those words were the only signal Kenshi had given you. He never swears, and he never cums first, and yet, you could feel him pushing deep into you. He pressed you down on his cock, letting out a rather loud groan, breathy, low, and full of bliss. He rides out his high, still striving to make sure you climax, as well. Each thrust brings him closer to stimulation, biting his lip, trying to suppress his moans.

"Kenshi!" Your walls tighten around him, as you grind against him, seeking his heat, and your own orgasm. You do not have to work for long, the heat rising from your stomach, goosebumps rising over your body. Euphoria washes over you, as you twitch, cumming onto his cock. Each wave makes you whimper, finding your thighs shaking, your grip loosening on his shoulders.

"That's it," Kenshi urges, as your body shudders one last time, releasing you from the jaws of bliss. His hands are gentle, somehow softer, as they pull you in closer to him.

Slowly, Kenshi pulls you off of him, your sweetness covering the base of his dick. You moan at the release, leaning further into him. He rubs your back, pulling you down with him into the bed. He whispers sweet nothings in your ear, telling you how good you did, how loved you make him feel, and just how much he adores you. He will clean you up, later. But for now, he bathes in the afterglow with you held closely to his chest. To his heart.

#⁺◟sentooo #kenshi takahashi x reader #mortal kombat 1 x reader #mk1 x reader #mortal kombat x reader #mk x reader #kenshi takahashi x male reader #mortal kombat x male reader #mortal kombat x ftm reader #mortal kombat 1 x male reader #mortal kombat 1 x ftm reader #kenshi takahashi x ftm reader

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lululandd · 10 months

Text

run devil run; (ii)

pairing: simon ‘ghost’ riley x gn!reader

word count: 695

warnings: fluff again (boooooooo)

note: ghost is a coward and soap meddles (gaz helps) //

summary: “you know them?” soap blocked his line of sight and waggled his eyebrows.

part i.

Pausing mid sentence, he got caught off guard seeing you at the Starbucks Soap had dragged him into. You were immersed in your newly acquired book, the one that you chose from the bin a couple days ago.

“You know them?” Soap blocked his line of sight and waggled his eyebrows, “Our table has a seat for one more, LT.”

He made the motions to leave and Soap eases off immediately. Guilt washed over him as he thought about how he acted last time. You did nothing wrong, you even helped him and he acted like an outright wanker. He hoped the books made up for abruptly taking off.

In his momentary mental reflection he didn't notice the knowing look that Soap and Gaz shared, so he thought nothing when the latter left for the counter. He didn't even ask him why he came back empty handed. But when one of the baristas walked over to you and handed you a drink, he slowly turned his head towards his mates.

“Ghost, listen..” Soap started, his hands going up in mock surrender. “You’ve been starin’ at tae hen for fuckin’ ever. Something needs to be done.”

He stared at Gaz next.

The man also raised his hands, nodding his head gently at Soap, “He started it, boss.”

Soap backhanded his upper arm, “You traitor!”

While his friends argue and point fingers at each other, he saw you staring right at him, and tentatively waved when your eyes met.

Fuck that’s cute.

You held up both the book and the drink that Gaz got, mouthing ‘thankyou’

Fuuuckk, that’s even cuter.

Right now he doesn’t know whether to leave alone, leave with you, or just stra—

All the thoughts in his mind grinds to an abrupt halt as you stood up from your seat, pointed at the book, and walked out. He watched you leave, only half understanding what you meant. Did you want to go home and finish the book? Were you saying you liked the book? What?

Both Gaz and Soap are getting a little loud for his liking right now and decided to leave, but promised he’s down for another outing next leave.

Gaz sports the widest grin as he nudged Soap when Ghost was well out of earshot. “They’re gone too.”

Soap turned quickly to where you were seated and matched Gaz’s grin. “Ten quid he’s nicer to the recruits when we get back.”

“We tellin’ the Cap ‘bout this?”

Soap had already typed in his phone, “I’m making a new group chat with Laswell in it.”

“Don’t forget Farah and Alex.” Gaz checked his phone, he was made an admin and added the people he just mentioned.

Roach replied first, offering to smuggle chocolate bars to the base just in case Ghost gets rejected and makes the recruits cry.

—

Walking home, Ghost sees the bookstore from afar. The book he got for soap lies in his duffel, half hidden under his new masks. Speaking of new masks, he noted how youtube had suspiciously placed sowing videos on his home tab before he even types them out in the search bar. Maybe he should get some sewing books so he can minimise using the computer anyway he can.

He saw you talking to the cashier, placing something in your bag as he walked in. Hearing the door open, you turned your head and smiled at him. Thinking it was the end of it, he walked towards the do-it-yourself section. The book caught his eye immediately, but before he could walk towards it, he sensed you in his peripherals.

You were standing nervously again, “Y'allright?” He offered. His heartbeat turned irregular when you beamed at him.

“Here.” you said, shoving something in his direction.

“What—“

“For you!”

Before he could say or do anything, you had quickly retreated out of the store. He looked down into his hands and saw it was the bookstore’s gift certificate, worth fifty quid.

Cheeky fuck.

Grabbing the sewing book with the widest smile he thinks he’s ever had on his face, he promises he’s gonna get you back, one way or another.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x you #call of duty imagines #call of duty #scuffed writing

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malecardiolove · 6 months

Text

Tom's first echocardiogram

A few days have passed since Tom Holland's heart attack, he has taken a break from filming his film.

Dr. Luke asks him to bare his chest, exposing the young actor's well-formed pecs. Luke can't believe it, the beauty of that boy's body, and how he has gone through a moment like this. First he listens to his heart, he stands behind him and with the stethoscope listens to Tom's heartbeat, irregular but beautiful. Then he asks him to lie down on the stretcher, but before that he asks him to take off his shoes. To the doctor's surprise, Tom is not wearing socks, so he reveals big, white, and quite clean feet. He wiggles his toes, smiles at Luke. They like each other.

Luke explains that an echocardiogram will allow him to see his heart muscle in real time. The idea fascinates Tom, who begins to suffer palpitations, and he also finds the Doctor handsome, who begins by inspecting from the center of the chest. Tom sees the screen from his place, he cannot believe what he sees, that great little machine that It pumps weakly, but it turns out that there is no damage to its vital organ. "You have a big heart." Luke smiles at Tom.

"All good?"

"Sure, but I would like a longer session"

"My heart is ready for you whenever you want" Tom winks at her.

They both now look at the screen, a projection of the four chambers of Tom's heart delighting them.

After, Dr. Luke ask about the day of the Heart attack.

#male cardiophilia #male heartbeat #gay men #male heart #beating heart

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saintsenara · 7 days

Note

Just read your meta on Tom Riddle & sexual abuse - brilliant as usual. I interpret Billy Stubbs the same way. I was wondering where in canon you're getting that Voldemort had an irregular heartbeat? The only thing that's coming to my mind is the visions Harry had in ootp where it says his heart is beating faster but that's not even real. Sorry this is the most niche question ever lol but I have an obsession with Voldemort's body

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

it's something which i've arrived at via a leap from deathly hallows - in which the locket-horcrux is mentioned as having a pulse which "beats irregularly alongside [harry's] own", which beats so fast that - from voldemort's perspective - it feels like it's "banging outside his chest", and which is also described as rattling, racing, etc.

the locket is the only horcrux which seems to have these pseudo-bodily functions - and it also, when harry opens it, has eyes. this is, i think, largely a narrative device to hint to the reader that harry is also a horcrux, by allowing us to picture a horcrux as something living - and the locket gets the honour because it's the only horcrux we spend any meaningful amount of time with in either of the last two books.

[the diary - the only other horcrux harry spends any real time interacting with - doesn't get any such description.]

the locket's abnormal heartbeat is - of course - clearly intended by the doylist text to illustrate [just like the comment in goblet of fire that voldemort has unnaturally cold hands when he touches harry] the abnormality of voldemort's mutilated soul, and the way this has ruined and corrupted his body.

but this doesn't align with how the text understands the soul as separate from the body - the mutilation of voldemort's soul should, by the series' own logic, have no affect on his body [other than - maybe - on his eyes, "the window to the soul"].

and so i think it's fun - as someone committed to the idea that voldemort's fear of death and obsession with magic is made worse by a certain physical fragility - to accept the idea that all horcruxes feel semi-"alive" [as in, they all have these pseudo-bodily functions like pulses] but also to imagine that the locket's irregular heartbeat is something voldemort has always had wrong with him, rather than something caused by the damage he does to his soul.

an irregular heartbeat which is generally too fast - as the locket's is - might be a sign of something called atrial fibrillation, which can be either temporary or chronic. triggers for any manifestation of the condition can include:

physical and emotional stress [from - y'know - living in an orphanage, never having your cavernous grief over that fact acknowledged, and potentially being a victim of sexual abuse].

chronic lung conditions such as asthma [voldemort's soft voice is because he's a respiratorily-challenged icon, change my mind].

pericarditis, a temporary heart condition often triggered by a serious viral infection, like influenza [which might have nearly finished off a child who was already sickly, only making him more afraid of dying...].

smoking [which everyone did in the forties], not eating properly [the man is famously thin], and frequently being incandescent with murderous rage [no explanation needed] are all additional things that wouldn't help... as would not bothering to take your health seriously because you can't die.

#asks answered #tom riddle #lord voldemort #alexa play heart skips a beat

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writing-till-i-am-dead · 12 days

Text

Laigan oneshot

(I’m just having fun with these ship names now)

Ashlyn stepped to the front and clapped her hands. “Ok, so.. my parents have been saying that in order for us to survive, we need to work as a.. team.”

Taylor tilted her head. “Don’t we already?”

“Apparently bonds formed only from trauma aren’t strong enough.”

This seemed to blow everyone’s minds as they all said, “They aren’t?”

Ashlyn shook her head. “No.. so, I’ve decided we are going to split into teams of two by having three people draw one name from a hat.”

Ashlyn turned and picked up a baseball cap filled with torn papers.

“So, who will be drawing names?”

Taylor, Aiden, and Ben all rose their hands.

Aiden jumped from the bus seat bounded forward excitedly as he drew out a name.

“Let’s see.. LOGAN!”

Logan damn near fell out of his seat as he exclaimed, “HUH?!”

Aiden plopped himself right next to Logan and Logan tried to make himself as small as possible in his seat.

Why did it have to be Aiden?

Logan would’ve taken Ashlyn, or Ben, or Taylor, or even Tyler’s aggressive attitude!

He slowly turned to face him and give him a friendly smile.

Aiden smiled back and Logan felt his blood run cold and he quickly turned away again.

Why is he so creepy?! he thought anxiously.

“So, uh, Ashlyn!” Logan blurted out. “What sort of team building exercises are we going to do?”

“Well.. my dad said that in his time in the military, the best way to form bonds is helping each other in life or death situations, and having heart to heart conversations. And, well, we already have the first one down.”

Everyone looked a little confused. “How are we supposed to have those just.. casually?” Tyler asked as he sat next to Ben.

“I don’t know!” Ashlyn exclaimed. “That’s just what he said!”

Everyone looked awkwardly at their partner. Well, except Aiden. Logan was pretty sure it was impossible for Aiden to feel awkward.

“So, um.. Aiden.. you like.. dangerous stuff?” Logan asked, trying his hardest to keep himself from freaking out.

“Ya! Haha, one time I jumped off a ski lift. The way my ankle snapped was so weird, but also funny, haha!”

“Oh, um.. ya.. haha..” Is he purposefully trying to freak me out?! What the hell?! Someone help me!!! “Um.. well.. one time I was on a hike with my family with our dog and he ate some oleanders.. that was pretty messed.. haha..”

“Oleanders?” Aiden asked, suddenly seeming genuinely interested.

“Oh.. um.. they’re these really toxic flowers. They can cause irregular heartbeats. And seizures. My dog had a really, really bad seizure after eating it. He just kind of.. flopped around before he dropped dead.. haha..”

Aiden’s eyes widened and he cleared his throat after a moment. “Descriptive..”

“Huh? Oh! Uh, I’m sorry! I, um.. I didn’t really think about it!”

“Ha, it’s fine, man, don’t worry about it!” Aiden said, wrapping his arm around Logan’s shoulder. “You got any more stories to tell?”

“Oh.. uh.. oh! So, my aunt works at a hospital and one time she was babysitting me and I had to go to her work. And this patient had burst into the hospital, vomiting everywhere and passing out. He had eaten a death cap!”

“A death cap?! That sounds so cool, what is that!”

Logan wasn’t even aware of the proximity of them, or the fact that he was talking to Aiden. He was just excited to talk about things that interest him.

“They’re these very poisonous mushrooms. They cause nausea, low blood pressure, and vomiting. The mortality rate for eating them is at 30%!”

Aiden seemed a little let down by that number. “30%? Really? What’s the most poisonous mushroom, then?”

“Oh, um.. the death caps are..”

He raised an eyebrow. “Really? That’s it? Man, that’s just so low..”

“You.. want more people to die??”

“Well, no. But it just makes it more interesting, doesn’t it? Kind of like the same morbid interest of watching true crime..”

“I guess I understand?”

There was a moment of silence between them.

“Do you know all these plant facts because your grandparents are florists?” Aiden asks.

“Oh, ya..”

Aiden smirks. “Kind of like how they got us access to drugs?”

Logan’s shoulders jerk up and he quickly gets defensive. “H-hold on, it’s not what you think! They were just able to get the drugs because they have poppy flowers which are used to make opioids! N-NOT THAT THEY MAKE OPIOIDS OFTEN, OR EVER!”

Aiden burst out laughing, clutching his stomach as he fell out of his seat. “Oh! Oh my gosh! Your face! Haha!!”

Logan’s face went red and everyone turned to look at them, curious.

“Ummm, A-Aiden.. it wasn’t that funny.. haaaa..” He grabbed Aiden’s arm and pulled him back into the seat. “Quit being so loud!” he said quickly, his face bright red.

“You quit being so embarrassed all the time!” Aiden countered.

“I-! Ughh.. Aiden..” he whimpered, covering his face.

“Pfff.. cmon, Logan. Keep rattling on random facts about deadly plants!”

He still seemed hesitant before saying, “Have you heard about the Sandbox tree?”

“Oh? No, I haven’t!”

Logan smiled, knowing this would be right up Aiden’s alley. “Their seeds.. explode!”

Aiden gasped. “No way!”

“Ya!”

“How dangerous is it?”

“Pretty dangerous. It can severely hurt humans. Not to mention that it’s poisonous all over.”

Aiden burst out laughing and pat Logan’s back. “You know what I like!”

Logan laughed along with him as he rattled off more plant facts. Eventually plant facts moved facts about how deadly space is.

“They actually have no idea how black holes function?! Movies lied to me!”

Logan snickered and nodded. “Same here!”

“What do you think happens? When you enter a black hole?”

“Hmm..” Logan thought for a moment before saying.

“You’re lost in a void. There’s no up, there’s no down. There’s no escape. Only fear and loneliness and existentialism as you stay there forever. Your cells won’t age or change.. so for eternity, you’re stuck there, never able to achieve freedom…”

He looked up at Aiden, who seemed very, very surprised.

“O-OR, UM… maybe you just come out on the other side! I-I dunno, haha!”

Aiden chuckled and shook his head. “You have some pretty dark thoughts. Just different from my kind of dark. I like it, though.”

“Y..You do?”

“Ya! You should say more stuff like that. It’s really interesting!”

“I…”

“All right everyone!” Ashlyn exclaimed. “It’s getting late. Cmon, we don’t wanna fall asleep on the bus.”

Aiden stood up and held out a hand to Logan. “Cmon.”

Logan was surprised by Aiden’s genuine friendliness before smiling back at him and letting him help him up.

“I think today was really a smart idea, Ashlyn,” Aiden said to her.

Ashlyn nodded. “Glad to hear it. My dad will be proud of us, I think.”

Logan smiled at that. Proud of him…

#Sbg #school bus graveyard #Logan fields #logan sbg #aiden clark #aiden sbg #webtoon #oneshot #fanfic

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samstree · 2 years

Text

“It’s strange.” Geralt frowns, pressing his forehead to Jaskier’s. “Your fever still hasn’t broken.”

Jaskier’s skin flushes hot, his breathing quick and labored, his scent threaded with exhaustion. His body is slumped against a mountain of pillows but still needs to borrow support from Geralt to stay upright. It’s truly pitiful how weak the human body is if a simple cold can last this long.

Geralt checks his temperature every time Jaskier looks slightly better, but every time he finds Jaskier’s skin burning against his, and now is no exception.

“Perhaps I…” Jaskier exhales, leaning into Geralt’s space. “I just need more time.”

“Hmm.”

Geralt pulls away, opening his eyes. The sight of Jaskier sick is not something he wants to see for long—his face is unhealthily red, his eyes glistening with ever-present tears. Some deeply buried part of Geralt’s heart aches when thinking about Jaskier in pain.

“Oh,” Jaskier says, “You are staring at me.”

For some reason, his face becomes even redder. Ever the shells of his ears are pink now, so Geralt touches it, tucking the stray hair away from Jaskier’s face.

“I don’t understand,” Geralt answers, feeling the warm air between them. “The healer said it should be down two days ago, but every time I check it seems to spike again—”

“Don’t think too much of it!” Jaskier interrupts, his voice rather panicked. “We humans are like this, you know that.” he laughs without humor. “Unreasonably fragile and all.”

“Still, maybe I’m checking the wrong way.” His hands are normally colder due to his slower heartbeat, so Geralt has been using his forehead. It should be more accurate. “Let’s see again.”

With that, he cups Jaskier’s cheeks in his palms and rests their foreheads together once more.

A gasp escapes Jaskier’s lips. It must be his body’s reaction to the discomfort.

“Geralt…”

“Don’t move.” Geralt nuzzles, trying to calm Jaskier but his heart rate is picking up, his breaths also coming in deep and shuddering. “Can you take deep breathes for me?”

Jaskier does as he is told, and Geralt concentrates on catching signs of the lingering illness.

This time, Jaskier is scorching hot under Geralt’s fingertips, even worse than a moment ago.

It’s strange indeed.

“Your breathing doesn’t sound right,” Geralt muses. “Let’s hope it’s not an infection.”

“There’s…ahem,” Jaskier clears his throat. “There’s nothing major, I promise.”

But worry only creeps up in Geralt’s chest. “Your voice has gone deep.”

Jaskier croaks, “it’s not dee—”

“There.” Geralt catches the rasp in Jaskier’s voice. “Now it’s all hoarse too. Your fever has been burning for days, and it’s getting worse. It doesn’t make sense.”

At that, Jaskier flinches nervously like he’s trying to hide something, and Geralt can’t help but soften. It must be hard with the fever coming and going. On top of it, there’s the discomfort of his quickened heart and irregular breathing—all terrible symptoms from the cold.

Jaskier must be reluctant for Geralt to see the lingering effects of his sickness, so he doesn’t get left behind.

“I’m fine,” Jaskier says, straining his voice carefully like he’s putting on a mask for a performance. Even his pupils are blown wide. It must be the delirium from the fever, but he’s still trying to reassure Geralt.

Geralt dislikes this very much.

“Hey.” He runs a hand down Jaskier’s back. “It’s okay. We’ll stay for as long as you need. And I’ll be here and take care of you.”

“You will?” A hint of smile tugs at Jaskier’s lips, so Geralt nods gently.

He gestures for Jaskier to make space on the bed and places himself on top of the covers. Jaskier’s cheek presses against Geralt’s collarbone, waves of heat still coming off of him, and every time Geralt tries to soothe him with more touches, Jaskier lets out a small, high-pitched, sad sound. So Geralt touches him more.

“You are so good to me when I’m sick.”

“Hmm.” Geralt tilts his chin so Jaskier is more comfortable. “Don’t get used to it. I’ll need to check you every day, and as soon as the fever is done, we will prepare for leaving.”

“You’ll have to wait for a long time,” Jaskier mumbles through a yawn.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Jaskier is not even thinking straight anymore. With his strange cold somehow getting worse for no reason at the most random times, he must be exhausted.

The poor bard.

Geralt hums softly as he strokes Jaskier’s hair and nape until he drifts off. A smile blooms on Jaskier’s face in sleep, and Geralt should only be proud.

#geraskier #geraskier fic #sick jaskier #sickfic #help the bard is too easily flustered and his witcher keeps thinking he's still sick

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finniestoncrane · 11 months

Text

Your One True Nemesis

Chapter 26: also on AO3 Masterlist Here Arkham!Riddler x Female!Reader, word count: 1.3k oh gosh is it possible that an idiot genius can... change? even ever so slightly? and be... not nice... but... human? :o 💚 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: don't get too excited he's still a walking disaster, pining sort of, lil bit of tension

“Taking a break?”

The sudden sound of Edward’s voice, intrusive in the moment of peace you were experiencing in the work room, made you jump slightly. Looking up from what you were working on, you offered him a smile.

“I was just thinking… it’s nice to see that not much has changed down here.”

“Of course not. The goal is still the same.”

“To beat the bat.”

“Exactly, it’s only natural. Creatures known to prey on bats include hawks, owls, some spiders, falcons and, of course, me.”

Smiling at his ridiculous statement, you ran your fingers along the work bench, scattered with what you were sure were the same scraps of metal and wires as has been there when you left.

“You act as though you’ve been gone for years.”

“It kind of feels like it. Time flows differently when you can see the sun rise and set. Down here it’s all sort of… continuous.”

Turning, you found Eddie standing close to you, staring intently as you spoke.

“Well, that’s how I like it. Don’t be tempted to make any grand changes.”

Eddie made his way over to the workstation he had graciously, but not without constant complaining, set up for you the day after you had returned to the sewers. He’d been insistent that you start working right away to earn your keep, or he’d turf you out again, and this time he wouldn’t be there to save you like the heroic and generous overseer that he was.

“How much have you managed to…”

His eyes fell to the table where you had pieced together several of the small remotes he had instructed you to complete. You smiled, feeling smug at the genuine surprise on his face.

“Well… don’t get too proud of yourself. You’ve barely even begun to complete this work. If I’m to keep that idiotic detective occupied long enough, Gotham needs to be riddled with my puzzles.”

Giggling at the pun, you realised quickly it was unintentional when a small smile crept up at the corners of Eddie’s mouth. He clearly didn’t want to admit that he was pleased with himself, but you could tell he was noting it down mentally to use at another point, with an audience he deemed more deserving that you were. As he took stock of the work you’d done, he noticed his notebook, left open at a page where he had been scribbling riddles. Beside it, a sheet of scrap paper where you had been writing the answers. He placed his fingers on it, shifting it to the side and tilting his head to read the words you had scrawled on the page, trying to stifle a smile that was still very obvious. It made your heartbeat irregular, seeing him respond positively to something you had done.

“I was… I was just trying them out… to see if I could get any of them right. They were a nice break from the work.”

Maintaining his expression, but letting the smile come out slightly, Eddie lifted the sheet from the table and looked back and forth from it and his notebook.

“I suppose a ‘well done’ is in order. When I tested that riddle on one of my childhood bullies, he simply could not solve it.”

Your smile beamed out, a tingling sensation passing over your body as he locked his eyes onto yours.

“Not even on pain of death could he grasp the answer. But you’ve managed it on a break. I suppose you’re perhaps ever so slightly smarter than I gave you credit for. But you’re still just as bad at your job as you used to be.”

Picking up one of the remotes you had made, he inspected it closely, prying the back off and tugging at the wires which came loose immediately.

“I mean… it would have been ok if you hadn’t yanked them out.”

“Nonsense. Shoddy workmanship. You need to be more careful, you need to be better.”

“Well, you need to be kinder.”

With a grimace, Eddie closed his eyes, mentally counting to three before opening them again.

“I refuse. You came back knowing what it was like down here.”

“That doesn’t mean it can’t be better though?”

With an exasperated but soft sigh, Eddie turned from you, still speaking as he fiddled with the tools that lay scattered on the wall shelves.

“I don’t see how it could be better. It was fine the way it was. Perfect, even.”

“Oh yeah? The back and forth bickering and unresolved sexual tension made this the perfect living arrangement.”

The words had come out of your mouth before you could stop them. But it was the truth. And you were glad to finally mention it.

“There was no… there is no unresolved anything. We are colleagues. Nothing more, nothing less. Surely, that is the best way to go forward.”

You hated to admit it, but it probably was. He really was right about everything. And even though he wasn’t willing to admit to the slightly deeper meanings, or hidden feelings, behind everything that had happened between you before, at least he was willing to try and move past them. Not the result you wanted, but anything to make things more tolerable. It was better than nothing. It might even be positive. A new positive start.

You were so hopeful things could be different that you were willing to forego what you really wanted. To be with Eddie in a pleasant capacity, even if it meant there were no sexual elements, was good enough for you. It had shocked you how much you had missed him while you were working for Oswald. You didn’t want to run the risk of losing it again. So you nodded, agreeing with him.

“Good. Now. You solved those ones, but those were easy. Those were the preliminaries, I hope you understand that. Had I known you were going to attempt to solve those, had I so wished to force you into mental exhaustion, you would have failed before you had even begun to comprehend the first riddle on that page. If you’re keen to expand your mind, I can show you the full extent of my brilliance. I can write some more puzzles for you, to keep you entertained while you work on the menial, yet seemingly challenging, tasks I have laid out for you. Does that sound… appealing?”

With a soft smile, you nodded. Grateful that he was trying to extend something to you, even if you weren’t sure what it was. A gift? A challenge? To express that he cared or to show you he believed in you?

“Wonderful. By the end of the week you’ll be in awe at my superiority. I won’t be going easy on you, not now that I know you are…”

He hesitated, unsure if he wanted to continue, but he knew he had to.

“… capable.”

It wasn’t the greatest compliment in the world. But you would take it.

Eddie shifted awkwardly as you smiled warmly at him, made uncomfortable by even that small display of kindness. He turned on his heel and left the room. You were colleagues. Colleagues. He couldn’t let himself fall back into old habits. This was as far as it would go. He could challenge you mentally, offer you a pat on the back. But he couldn’t find himself falling into the trap of caring.

It was too late though. He was already considering what level of subliminal messaging he could incorporate into the riddles. Something that hinted towards a suggestion of intimacy, or to his agreement to a physical relationship, but that could be denied if it backfired or he came to his senses.

If he left it wide open, he could deny everything. To you and to himself.

#finnie writes #arkham riddler #arkham edward nigma #riddler x reader #arkhamverse riddler #the riddler #arkhamverse #riddler #the riddler imagine #riddler smut #the riddler fanfic #riddler fanfic #riddler x you #edward nigma x reader #edward nigma #arkham!riddler #the riddler fanfiction #arkham!verse #finnie yotn

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for-your-comfort · 6 months

Note

Hi! I hope you're still taking requests, but can I request a Knuckle Bine x hunter!Reader fic?

Reader is also one of Morel's apprentices and she participates in the fight against the Chimera Ants at the palace. But she's also secretly in love with Knuckle (he's oblivious) and she decides to confess to him in the spur of the moment mid palace infiltration. They just have this little "we might be dead by tomorrow so fuck this" moment, and confess to eachother and kiss desperately before getting back to fighting the Royal Guards. I live for life or death romantic situations and angsty/fluffy moments 😭

I love your writing so I hope I'm not bothering you! Kisses :)

Now or Never

Knuckle x Reader

a/n: i’m sorry this isn’t really what you asked for, i changed it a little to adapt to my current knowledge of HXH since i don’t want to do the chimera ant arc any injustice by putting an unfitting scene in.

summary: you’ve been sent on a dangerous quest with Knuckle and Shoot, and find yourself doubting whether you will even make it out alive. what better moment to confess your feelings?

warnings: injuries + blood loss (no graphic descriptions), bit of angst (but also comfort)

word count: 1603

A moment you feel most vulnerable in… Like your entire world is crashing down, and you’re so helpless, because there is absolutely nothing you can do.

What do you do at this moment? When you’re aware of how fast your thoughts are racing, as if competing with your pounding heartbeat in your ears. And yet still none of those thoughts are helpful, they’re nothing but mere, fleeting ideas passing through. Nothing you need, nothing to save you, nor the person next to you.

Your hiding spot is behind a few boxes, and so far they’ve been a good place to not be found. You listen carefully for anything suspicious, yet all you can hear is your own heartbeat, the irregular breaths of your friend, and the shuffling steps that must belong to the beast. You’re lucky to have limited it’s hearing and smelling senses during the earlier fight, or else you would surely already have been found. And given the circumstances, there’s no guarantee you’d make it.

You put a hand on the ground to steady yourself, and wince in pain when your palm touches the dirty ground. There’s a cut across your hand, that you hadn’t noticed up until now. You will have to clean the wound later and make sure it isn’t infected, if you make it out of this situation alive, that is.

“What is it?”

A hushed voice, barely even a whisper, is heard from beside you. You clutch your hand into a fist as your eyes meet Knuckle’s and guilt washes over you. Isn’t it so selfish to think of your own injury, when the person you cherish most is in much worse shape?

Your eyes linger on Knuckle’s once-white jacket that is all soaked up with blood, and just imagining where it’s coming from makes you tear up once again. He must be in so much pain.

Yet, nobody could have predicted this. Not Morel, when he sent Shoot, Knuckle and you out on a casual bounty hunt for a monster that has turned out to be a bite much bigger than the three of you can chew.

Not Shoot, who had agreed to it without a second thought after seeing the nods of Knuckle and you, who is now nowhere to be seen, ever since you lost sight of him somewhen during the fight before.

And certainly not Knuckle, who has overexerted himself, and gotten this beat up. His usual so energetic self is now slumped against a wooden box, sitting on the floor to your left. The sight breaks your heart over and over again.

“Hm?”

He asks again, and you can tell he’s getting weaker. How much blood has he lost? How much more can he hold on?

You can no longer hold back the tears now silently trickling down your cheeks. You can’t even remember the last time you felt like this, so at the mercy of fate’s cruelty as you couldn’t do anything but sit and wait for the inevitable end, since the two of you can’t possibly hide forever.

You get lost in the features of Knuckle, the deep lines on his face and his furrowed eyebrows. His usually so bold mouth, with lips that have their corners turned downwards now.

His big hands have always seemed so strong and secure, and even at this moment you long for nothing more than to feel them around you, and wake up to find all of this to be just a horrible nightmare. But his hands are tightly clutching the side of his stomach, and you know he’s trying to stop, or at least slow, the bleeding.

A tiny part of you hopes Shoot escaped and is seeking help in the nearest city, however you know very well that it’s hard to access, and even at your usual pace, at least an hour away. By now, that hope for help has pretty much died out.

You make another feeble attempt to use your nen ability, but the presence of the beast is still blocking it out.

You tightly clutch one hand within the other and press your eyes shut, before you feel a rough hand gently wipe your tears.

“Why are you crying?”

You shake your head as you look at Knuckle, and even more tears pour down your face and cheeks, some getting caught in Knuckle's calloused fingers, others spilling down to your clenched hands. But you will not speak. You will buy Knuckle, and yourself, as much time as possible. You will not make one single sound, that could betray your location to the beast. At least, that’s your plan.

As if having read your thoughts, Knuckle goes silent for a moment. He musters you with that look again, that one he gives you whenever you do something he disapproves of, or doesn’t understand.

“Once all this is over and we’re back home tomorrow, I’ll make Shoot and you those dumplings again. I know you mock and criticise my cooking, but it will be the best dumplings of your life-“

You interrupt him with a push against his arm, and he lets it drop to the ground with no resistance. He expected this.

“How can you say that!?” You hiss at him, “Don’t you understand? We might be dead by tomorrow!”

The salty tears rush down your cheeks even quicker as you angrily glare at Knuckle, still trying your hardest to be as quiet as possible.

A soft sigh escapes Knuckle as he reaches an arm out towards you, and gently pulls you into his mostly uninjured side. You simply let it happen, and close your eyes upon impact with his shoulder as you carefully snake an arm around his waist, the other wrapping around his other shoulder.

You can hear him taking a breath to say something, but nothing more than a quiet sob rips through the silence. You instantly pull away to look at him, your eyebrows furrowed in worry.

“You don’t deserve this. Any of this. I failed you.”

His voice is so quiet.

You shake your head and hug him tightly once again, this time with his face buried in your shoulder. You gently brush through his hair with your fingers to soothe him, as you lean in to whisper in his ear.

“You could never fail me. You did all you could, we both did. Then this is just how it has to happen.”

He lets out another sob as he clings onto you, his tears slowly soaking through your shirt.

You hold him tightly, silently crying into his hair. This is honestly the last moment you’d expect to be in when you would get to hold him like this for the first time, but given the circumstances, now there might not be any other moment for this in the future…

“I have feelings for you,” you start, “I have had them for a while now. I guess this might be the last time I get to tell you.”

At once, his eyes are on you, wide and startled, but not in a negative way. You’re happy to see some of his usual energy to be back, even if only for the moment, and that twinkle in his eyes you love so dearly has returned.

You can’t help but reach out to brush your hand through his hair again, your fingers tangling in his curls and getting stuck in the pompadour. Instantly, it seems like Knuckle is melting at your touch like soft butter in the sun. A warm feeling spreads inside your chest at this reaction, as if you swallowed the sun yourself.

“I had no idea… Why didn’t you say anything sooner? No, wait- aaaaaah! I should have said something!”

You cover his mouth with your hand, looking left and right, listening hard, in fears that his whisper-shouts gave away your location. You’re not out of danger, how could you be so reckless? But there’s not a single thing you hear, and you slowly remove your hand.

As you do, even Knuckle seems to sigh out in relief before you feel a calloused hand on your cheek, and Knuckle’s warm breath on your chin before your lips meet.

You sit there, frozen in shock, yet only for a moment. Your eyes flutter closed, your hands desperately grasping at his clothes for some stability, even when you know you must be the strong one in a situation where he is injured.

You two don’t let go of each other, neither of you daring to break the kiss. This wonderful, soft kiss.

His lips are chapped and dry, and you imagine yours aren’t any better. But still, you couldn’t imagine your first kiss to be any more perfect. For while you’re here, there’s no danger. There’s no beast out there to get you, no wound in your palm to burn in pain as you clench fistfuls of Knuckle’s shirt, and no pools of blood seeping through the same once-white shirt.

Right now, this might not even be the last kiss.

“There you are. I could hear you whispering.”

Both Knuckle and you snap your heads towards the source of the voice. And you see Shoot, looking at you with a warm smile.

You first worry that the beast might hear you, but knowing Shoot, he would never be so careless. The beast must already be disposed of. You two are safe. Knuckle will be okay, and you will make sure of that. You look at him, and the look on his face tells you that he has drawn the same conclusions as you.

“Let’s go home.”

#hxh x reader #fluff #angst with a happy ending #hunter x hunter #knuckle x gn!reader #hxh knuckle x reader #knuckle x reader #knuckle bine

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