#the fucker gave him a panic attack >:( i want this fucker dead
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It's fair and justified to kill someone if they deadnamed your best friend right?
#it's called a deadname because if you say it you die etc etc#the fucker gave him a panic attack >:( i want this fucker dead#idk who it is yet but once i get a name it's on sight#deadname tw
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The Ghost of You on My Skin
Jungkook and Jimin travel to a remote island in hopes that the trip will allow them to unwind and reconnect. When their plans turn on them and they wind up lost in the woods, they seek refuge with a mysterious stranger who opens their eyes to a world of desire beyond anything they have experienced before.
🐍 Jungkook x Jimin x Yoongi
🐍 word count: 11k
🐍 established relationship, strangers to lovers, monster fucker au, a hint of angst, smut, pwp, fluff, poly, slash, nsfw, 21+
🐍 warnings: 🕊 dead dove! fear kink! slight pain kink! vore simulation! shapeshifting, vampire biting & sucking, werewolf attacking & fucking, snake swallowing & double-dick fucking, tentacle fucking. top yoongi, bottom jungkook & jimin, being overwhelmed and overstimulated, oral & anal sex, spit-roasting, subspace, threesome, mild dubcon bc yoongi uses magic to calm them, jungkook & jimin bicker a bit to set up the incredibly flimsy plot.
🐍 notes: the monster fucking in this fic gets intense at times, but it is all an illusion, and everyone comes out of it safely. nobody's blood is drained, and the vore is completely simulated. still, if topics like blood and claustrophobia make you uncomfortable, feel free to skip this one. it's tagged as dead dove so the warnings are taken seriously, but this is pretty tame compared to other fics i have with that warning.
🐍 written for the YoonMinKook Fest!
🐍 thanks to @neoneunnajimin for beta reading!
🐍 posted jan. 2023; nov. 2022 on ao3 | read on ao3
"Are you sure this is the right way?" Jimin asks sheepishly.
The crunch of dry leaves and twigs falls silent as Jeongguk stops in his tracks and glances around, then back at his map—nothing looks familiar or correct. Beside him, Jimin shivers with the neck of his sweater pulled up to his ears. A wave of frustration washes over Jeongguk, and he lets out a heavy sigh.
"No," Jeongguk says simply. "The map the guide gave us said to go down this path—the same path we walked earlier—but nothing looks right."
"It's already getting late," Jimin mutters beside him, and Jeongguk bites his tongue. He knows it is getting late—he can see with his own two eyes that the sun has set and it is getting dark. He hates himself for feeling adventurous enough to return to the secluded part of the sea that he and Jimin had found earlier in the morning. He is not a teenager anymore; he should know better than to go trampling off into the woods at night. Although the guide wouldn't stop talking about how the moon looks reflected on the sea, from where they are, there may as well not be a moon at all.
Feeling resolved to call this excursion a wash and turn back to their hotel, Jeongguk sighs and lets his arms drop to his sides. "Let's just go back," he mutters, defeated.
So go back they do, down the winding forest path, the exact way they came. Only, as they reach what should be the end of the forest line, Jeongguk slowly passes the flashlight from left to right, realizing they are not where they should be. The trees are just as dense, and nothing looks familiar. Panic rises, but he breathes through it and attempts to get his bearings.
"Something is wrong, isn't it?" Jimin asks meekly from beside him.
"I don't...quite know..." Jeongguk mutters, words fading to ash as he glances ahead and notices, in the near distance, a rectangular light shining between trees. A house. Jeongguk has spotted a house.
Jeongguk knows that the clearing should be to the right, but the house is just off to the left. As if pulled by some invisible string, Jeongguk begins to walk in the direction of the light.
"Wait," Jimin says as Jeongguk feels one of Jimin's hands wrap around his wrist. "That house wasn't there before, was it? Or have we gone the wrong way?"
Jeongguk sighs, feeling his patience wearing thin. It is cold and dark and he just wants to lie down in a bed. "There is only one path, Jimin," he says between his teeth. "How could we have gone the wrong way?"
"I—" Jimin begins, and Jeongguk turns to him, pulling in a slow, deep breath, feeling a fire blaze in his eyes—he is ready to absolutely explode. But then Jimin shrugs and continues, "I don't know. You're right. I don't understand what's going on."
Another sigh, and Jeongguk continues down the path toward the house. If they truly are lost in the woods, then the house is their best bet. Jeongguk feels a strange sense of calm as they get closer—as if suddenly, they are safe, and all the worries they had moments ago have been lifted, inviting them to take shelter.
Jeongguk steps on a particularly large stick, and the loud snap pulls him from his reverie, making Jimin squeak a high-pitched sound.
"Fuck," Jimin mutters under his breath. "I hate this. This is how horror films start."
"This is how they start?" Jeongguk responds with a chuckle. "We came to vacation on a remote island where we are forced to speak in broken English. We were already traversing the realm of how horror movies start."
Jimin giggles beside Jeongguk—a sound that Jeongguk is surprised to hear. It is light and sweet and makes him smile. Despite his frustration, Jeongguk does not mean to have a short fuse with Jimin. Jimin is simply there, in the wake of the storm that is Jeongguk's ebbing and flowing moods. In fact, Jimin's presence is helping to keep Jeongguk grounded, if only a little.
"Let's just see who lives in the house," Jeongguk suggests, turning to Jimin, who gazes at him with wide, loving eyes.
"Sounds good."
"If they seem creepy or weird, we'll get the hell out of there and just...I don't know..." Jeongguk glances around at the seemingly never-ending forest, "...run."
Jimin nods, and Jeongguk leads the way. The hand on Jeongguk's wrist slides down to his hand, and they lock fingers, holding one another tightly as they traverse uneven ground, despite the path laid before them. Jeongguk wonders when the last time the occupant of the house has come out to clear the brush.
A sound causes them to halt in their paths. A deep woman's voice, sad sounding and drawling out something long and loud, which Jeongguk can't quite make out—anguished cries. Then, the sound of a guitar joins the voice, and Jeongguk realizes it's music. Jeongguk does not understand the voice—surmises that it must be in Spanish—and worries, suddenly, that the person in the house may not understand them at all.
Still, onward, they trudge, and Jeongguk feels hope bloom in his chest. Something about this just seems to be right, like this is precisely where they are meant to be. Which, Jeongguk realizes, is an absolutely ridiculous way to feel. He reasons that he is still jet-lagged and exhausted, and desperate for warmth.
They approach the front of the small house—which, now that they are closer, seems more like a cabin. Jeongguk hesitates before walking up the short wooden steps to the front door. When he knocks, the door gives and creeks open, and Jeongguk is met with an enticing smell of baked pastries—possibly an apple pie—and the scent of burning logs.
A deep, raspy voice calls, "Por favor, pasen adelante. Están en su casa."
Jeongguk pauses, fist still raised from knocking, but arm feeling weak as it hovers in the air. He does not understand what the occupant of the house is saying, and fear rises as he turns to Jimin.
"I didn't understand."
Jimin shakes his head. "I didn't either."
"Please, come in," the voice calls again, this time in perfect Korean. Jeongguk gasps and turns back to the ajar door with wide eyes as the voice continues, "This is your home."
Jeongguk swallows a lump in his throat, feeling uncertain. "I—"
Just then, a cold gust of wind blows, chilling Jeongguk to the bone. Instinctively, he steps forward, past the threshold, seeking shelter. Jimin follows behind him, and as they shuffle into the entrance, the door closes.
The light is dim, and although there is still music playing in the background, it is far quieter than it was when they approached from outside. There is a warmth coming from a crackling hearth to the right, and to the left, standing near a small wooden table just barely large enough to seat four, is a man.
Jeongguk feels stunned, gazing upon the man, who simply stands and smiles back at them. His skin is pale as a sheet, and his long, tousled curly black hair rests in his eyes, falling to his ears and to his shoulders. Despite being obstructed by a tangle of hair, the man's eyes are dark and piercing, resembling those of a wild feline. His nose is small and round, and his lips—full and soft—are turned up into a grin.
"Welcome, friends," the man says. "My name is Yoongi. I hope you haven't been lost for too long."
Yoongi wears all black, and the fabric is flowing and light, hanging loosely and not of any style that Jeongguk is familiar with. It is almost as if fabric is simply draped over his form with nary a rhyme or reason, in strips and swathes.
"What language were you speaking earlier?" Jimin asks.
Jeongguk turns to find Jimin looking just as mesmerized by Yoongi as he is. There is something about the man. An aura of sorts, perhaps—Jeongguk can't put his finger on it. When he turns back to Yoongi, the man takes a seat at the small, square wooden table. In the center of the table is a large bottle of soju and warm hand pies that smell like apples and cinnamon. Jeongguk blinks heavily and looks around.
"I don't remember those being there when we came in," Jeongguk mutters, mostly to himself.
"It's what you wanted, no?" Yoongi asks sweetly, with a cock of his head.
Jeongguk licks his lips and swallows. It is what he wanted—soju to take the edge off and help him relax after whatever the fuck has just transpired, leading them to this home, and warm apple pie, a comfort food that has calmed Jeongguk since he was a child. The pies are more like pancakes with a rich, warm filling, reminiscent of the very ones he ate growing up, and Jeongguk resists the urge to reach for one.
"Please," Yoongi says, motioning to the items on the table. "Help yourselves."
Jimin wastes no time grabbing the soju and pouring a glass, and something inside Jeongguk lurches, causing him to reach out for Jimin's arm and stop him mid-pour. Jimin angles the bottle upward to stop the flow of liquid, splashing some on the table.
"Jimin, wait. What are you doing?"
"I'm thirsty," Jimin states, eyebrows raised and annoyed. "We've had a long fucking day, I've had you barking at me as if I'm a child, and now I want a drink."
Jimin yanks his arm from Jeongguk's grasp, which Jeongguk loosens to prevent more of a mess from being made, and he stares at Jimin's profile as he returns to pouring himself a glass. Then, Jimin pours a second glass, sets the bottle down, and shoves it toward Jeongguk.
"I didn't mean to talk to you like you're a child," Jeongguk mutters, feeling guilty and defeated. He has been copping an attitude with Jimin, lately, but he can't admit the fault so easily.
"Just drink," Jimin says, holding his glass out to Jeongguk, who sighs and picks his up, tapping it gently on Jimin's in a silent toast—something they always do.
"Sorry," Jimin says, turning to Yoongi, still holding his glass toward Jeongguk. "I'm so rude! I didn't offer you any!"
Yoongi shakes his head and waves his hands in the air. "I don't drink."
Jimin nods and gulps back his soju, but Jeongguk hesitates. Why does Yoongi have soju if he doesn't drink? And how does Yoongi speak perfect Korean and Spanish, and live in a cabin in the middle of fucking nowhere? Jeongguk turns to Yoongi with the intent to ask him one of a myriad of questions that flood him at once, but Yoongi crosses his arms over his chest and winks at Jeongguk, and suddenly, his mind is clear, and he doesn't feel like inquiring.
Sure, the circumstances are strange—to say the least—but he is warm and safe, and he shouldn't worry so much. He can get to know Yoongi in due time; he has all the time in the world. Jeongguk knows this thought process, and the sudden sense of calm is strange, but he sits at the table and drinks back the soju.
The flavor is slightly sweet, and the chill is just right. Jeongguk glances at the label on the bottle, which looks vaguely familiar but not like any brand he can place. He nearly reaches for it, when Yoongi sets plates of hand pies in front of the two of them.
"Eat. You'll need your strength."
Again, Jimin doesn't hesitate.
Jeongguk feels a sense of trepidation, but as he gazes back at Yoongi, it all washes away. It feels as if he is put under some spell—still able to have free will, but with a loss of the fight or flight instincts necessary to make rational, wise decisions. Another glance at Jimin shows him sitting back in his chair with his eyes closed and a smile on his face. He hums happily, then opens his eyes to gaze lovingly at Yoongi.
"It tastes just like mother makes. You're incredible."
A pang of jealousy hits Jeongguk in the gut, and he reaches for his hand pie, feeling a bit sullen. There was a time when the stars in Jimin's eyes shone that brightly for him. When did they begin to dim? He supposes that is the way of relationships; you get comfortable, and you stop feeling all the heart stopping, raw emotions you once felt.
That is, after all, what this vacation is for. To reconnect. To remember why they fell in love in the first place. This trip is meant to bring the two of them back together. Jeongguk wonders if the chance has already passed, entirely.
Distantly, whatever song is on breaks Jeongguk out of his thoughts, and he realizes that the voice is singing in Korean. He wonders when it changed.
Jeongguk barely registers that he has picked up the pie until he takes a bite, breaking the warm, soft dough to reveal a sweet, slightly bitter baked apple inside. He closes his eyes to revel in the moment, taking in a deep breath as he slowly chews, savoring the flavors. It does taste just like his mother used to make.
"What brings the two of you here?" Yoongi asks, and Jeongguk looks up from the pie in his hands—which is, at present, shoved in his mouth. He huffs out air as if to speak, but stops himself when he realizes no words can make it past the pastry.
"A couples retreat," Jimin supplies, sounding much more cheery than he had when he was pouring soju. "We needed a break from the real world to reconnect, and one of Jeongguk's coworkers recommended the resort on this island."
Yoongi smiles and sits forward, resting his elbows on the table and his chin on his hands. "And you found yourselves here."
Jeongguk swallows and takes a sip of soju, then nods. "The man working at the resort gave us a map and told us to venture through the forest to find a deserted beach. We had done so earlier in the day, but when we came back at night, everything seemed...different."
"Shifted," Yoongi says, and Jeongguk nods, feeling a hint of unease that quickly dissipates. "Yes, it does that."
Jeongguk's arms drop, wrists hitting the wooden table. "It...does that?"
Yoongi hums. "It was searching for me; recalibrating until it led you here."
Jeongguk's mouth forms the word what, but no sound comes out. After all, the woods did change around them. The path shifted and brought them straight to this house. It doesn't make any sense at all, but he knows that it is the truth, because there is no other way to explain them getting lost on such a short, easy-to-navigate route.
"Why?" Jimin asks sweetly.
A smirk tugs on Yoongi's lips as he cocks an eyebrow, glancing from Jimin to Jeongguk. "Perhaps the woods felt like you needed me."
Jeongguk's breath hitches. "N-need you?"
Yoongi hums. "I am an ancient being. A harbinger of desire. And tonight, if you let me, I can open your eyes to things you could never possibly experience in the human realm. Once I am finished with you, your bond with one another will be tighter than you could ever imagine."
Despite the urge to chuckle and dismiss what Yoongi is saying, there is an earnestness in his voice that Jeongguk trusts. Or, perhaps, he really is under a spell.
"You've done something to us," Jeongguk manages to blurt, lilting at the end as if to beg a question.
"I have," Yoongi responds. "It's faint, and it doesn't fully take away your free will, but you are charmed to feel calm, and to not be afraid."
"I like it," Jimin says, and Jeongguk turns to find Jimin's cheeks rosy and his soju cup empty.
Jeongguk faintly nods his head—a slow, shallow motion. He likes it, too. Despite wanting to feel upset about having his instincts dulled, he enjoys the lightness it brings him.
"So," Jeongguk says, setting his half-eaten pie onto the plate before him. He picks up his soju and takes a sip, swallowing slowly enough to detect minute changes in the taste, as if it is adjusting itself to taste like every flavor Jeongguk likes most. "You're a god of desire. What does that mean, exactly?"
"It means I can shift objects and the environment inside this cabin into precise things which you desire," Yoongi says simply. He nibbles on his lower lip, adding, "Including myself."
"That's how you speak Korean," Jimin mutters, and Yoongi nods.
"And that's why you look like...that," Jeongguk says.
There is no doubt that Yoongi is the perfect blend of an ideal man for both Jimin and Jeongguk. His height and stature are similar to Jimin's, and he has an almost feminine beauty to him that draws Jeongguk. And he is muscular, with large hands and piercing eyes—traits Jeongguk has no doubt Jimin is fawning over.
"Yes," Yoongi responds. "The desire from the two of you combined created—" Yoongi motions at himself with both hands moving from beside his head, to his hips, and back up. "—this."
"And you expect us to fuck you," Jeongguk responds as his eyes wander over Yoongi's form.
Yoongi stands and places his palms down on the table, and although he is not that tall, Jeongguk feels small—towered over. "I don't expect anything. But you will fuck me. I can feel how badly you want it." Yoongi's eyes flit to Jimin as he adds, "Especially him."
"Can you shift into a werewolf?" Jimin blurts out, and Yoongi snickers as he says, "I can."
Jeongguk feels taken aback and turns to his boyfriend with his mouth agape. "A werewolf?"
Jimin simply shrugs, looking intoxicated and blissful. "I read a lot of fanfic, okay. I don't want to be scented and all that; not like a/b/o. I just want to hear him growl like a monster and feel the knot when he cums."
Stunned and speechless, and completely lost to any of what Jimin just said, Jeongguk stares at him in disbelief. Then, he snaps out of it and drinks back the rest of his soju, feeling resolute. "If you get a werewolf, then I want a vampire."
Jimin gasps and turns to Jeongguk with wide eyes. "Let him drink your blood!"
Perhaps Jeongguk should be embarrassed by the quickness at which arousal floods his senses and rushes to his cock from the thought of vampire Yoongi drinking his blood, but he feels at peace with his kink. Jeongguk looks up at Yoongi, whose upper cuspid teeth sharpen and elongate before his eyes, and he lets out a very horny sigh. Never has he wanted something so badly in his life.
Yoongi turns his attention to Jimin and looks over him with his eyes, and—as if his gaze could physically touch someone—Jimin swoons and runs his hands through his dark brown hair. When Yoongi turns his attention back to Jeongguk, his eyes are shining bright red.
"You can't even begin to imagine how badly he wants to watch me fuck you," Yoongi says as he rounds the table, toward Jeongguk.
Yoongi's clothing seems to have shifted into a ruffled satin shirt tucked into black trousers that are tight around the waist and ankles but loose around the legs. A stereotypical vampire costume, Jeongguk surmises, and he is thrilled with how the trousers hug Yoongi's hips and groin, accentuating a very impressive package. But, of course, it is, Jeongguk thinks, because Yoongi is built to the specifications that the two of them desire.
Jeongguk turns to Jimin and is surprised by how blown out his pupils are—by how his mouth hangs open and he breathes heavily. Jeongguk knows this look; he can practically feel the lust coming from Jimin, himself.
Slowly, Jimin saunters over, hips swishing teasingly. He wears a hoodie and sweatpants because that is what they decided would be appropriate attire for trudging to a beach at which they planned to skinny dip under the full moon, late at night. Still, beneath the bulky black cotton is a taut, muscular frame that brings Jeongguk to his knees, and as he watches Jimin sink down to the hardwood floor on his, Jeongguk breathes in a shaky inhale.
Jimin's small hands rub up Jeongguk's thighs, and his fingers tuck beneath the waistband of his matching black sweatpants, and Jimin slowly begins to tug the garment free. Jeongguk stares down into Jimin's eyes and feels affection burst and bloom in his chest, and all at once, he feels enveloped by love.
In a flash, Yoongi is in Jeongguk's immediate periphery, and suddenly, Yoongi's hands are on Jeongguk's shoulder and neck, drawing him close. Terror quakes through Jeongguk, and he flinches and attempts to step back, but Yoongi mutters, "Not so fast," and Jeongguk feels paralyzed.
Before him, Jimin pulls Jeongguk's pants lower, past his cock, and lower, still, to his knees. Jeongguk attempts to open his hands—tries flexing his fingers—but aside from faint, minute movements, he is stuck in place.
"I have to allow you to feel a little fear if this vampire fantasy is to be believed," Yoongi rasps, lips dragging over Jeongguk's ear and sending a shiver down his spine. "I need your blood to pump quickly, so that when I feast, it will take no time at all to drain you bone-dry."
There is a part of Jeongguk that wants to scream and beg for mercy—demand a new fantasy. But the rest of him shivers with anticipation and need, dizzying him with adrenaline. Jimin's warm, wet tongue slides from the base of Jeongguk's cock, up to the tip, and a shiver quakes up Jeongguk's spine, forcing him to whimper.
"Wh-why me?" Jeongguk asks desperately, playing the part of the distressed damsel.
Plush lips engulf Jeongguk's cock at the same time Yoongi drags his nose across Jeongguk's neck, ghosting warm breath over his skin. Each word punctuates and becomes more insidious as Yoongi growls, "Because you smell...so...good."
Two sharp fangs pierce Jeongguk's neck, and he screams bloody murder. The pain is agonizing—beyond anything Jeongguk has ever felt before—hot and intense and persistent. Jeongguk's knees buckle, but he cannot fall while under Yoongi's spell, and instead hangs in the balance of paralysis while Yoongi continues to slowly sink his fangs deeper.
In one swift movement, Jimin deepthroats Jeongguk's cock, and somehow the pleasure feels so elevated, Jeongguk wonders if his brain might snap and crumble to dust. Yoongi retracts his fangs and sucks at the wound while Jimin slurps Jeongguk's length loudly, and Jeongguk trembles—overwhelmed and dragged to hell from pleasure—as he cums down Jimin's throat with a desperate, broken groan.
"That fast?" Yoongi teases as his tongue flicks over the puncture wounds. Jeongguk shudders, and this time his knees do buckle, and he falls to the floor, caught haphazardly by Jimin, who smiles brightly with spit-slick lips.
Jeongguk looks up at Yoongi, whose chin is covered in blood, then brings a hand quickly to his neck. Although the skin feels damp, the moisture doesn't feel thick like blood, and Jeongguk holds his hand in front of his face, shocked to find there is only saliva. When he looks back at Yoongi, the man is grinning and shifting—his limbs becoming longer, thicker, hairier. He is turning into a werewolf, just for Jimin.
Jimin is on his feet quickly, backing away from where they sat. A feeling of horror surges through Jeongguk as Yoongi surges toward Jimin, and he scrambles to his feet, shedding his pants from around his ankles and pulling his sweater over his head in one swift movement as werewolf Yoongi traps Jimin. Jeongguk can barely make out the look on Jimin's face, but his eyes and posture say he is afraid.
"My, darling what big teeth I have," Yoongi growls—deep and ferocious, like a wild beast.
Jimin's voice cracks as he says, "All the b-better to eat me with," and Yoongi chuckles.
"That's right, little one."
All at once, Jimin is screaming at the top of his lungs while shreds of black fabric are flying in all directions. Jeongguk knows that this is all part of the game—that Jimin is in no real danger, but the sound of his voice sets off alarm bells, causing Jeongguk to hop up onto one of the chairs to get a better look.
Jimin stands with what was once a sweatshirt and pants hanging in tatters from his neck and hips, and Yoongi spins Jimin around, shoving him into a corner that sticks out into the room, while crouching on his hands and knees behind him. Without a word, Yoongi takes Jimin's ass in his massive, hairy hands and spreads his cheeks wide, then licks a stripe over his hole. A loud, desperate moan falls from Jimin's lips, and he trembles as he leans into the edge of the wall.
"Naughty boy isn't wearing any panties," Yoongi growls between lapping his tongue over Jimin's entrance.
"Ahh—easy access," Jimin whimpers as Jeongguk watches Yoongi's long, beastly tongue plunge deep into Jimin's hole.
Jeongguk crawls down from the chair slowly, wanting to be part of the action but still afraid of Yoongi in werewolf form, despite knowing the man is just trying to fulfill their fantasies. As he approaches, Yoongi morphs one hand from the monstrous, sharp-nailed hairy hands to one that looks just like his own. He removes his tongue and presses one long, knobby finger into Jimin's ass, and as Jimin's back bows and he lets out a delicious strangled sob, Jeongguk nearly melts to the floor.
"F-fuck," Jimin whimpers, "how did you—I didn't hear a lube bottle."
Yoongi sucks a dark hickey into Jimin's asscheek and lets the skin go with a pop. "I'm an ancient being, brought here to become anything you desire. You didn't think I wouldn't have self-lubricating fingers, did you?"
Jeongguk drops to his knees and crawls toward Jimin, who lets a hand slide from the wall, which he holds out to Jeongguk. "Here to suck my dick, Ggukie?" he asks in a deep, breathy tone.
"Of course I am, baby," Jeongguk mutters as he opens his mouth wide and lets Jimin shove two fingers down his throat, pressing on his tongue to make his muscles contract and his eyes water.
Jimin pulls his spit-coated fingers from Jeongguks lips and adjusts against the wall just enough to stick his cock out and slap Jeongguk across the lips as he gets into position. Yoongi must be working magic on Jimin because he lets out another deep whine and his legs tremble.
"Open up, Ggukie," Jimin groans, and Jeongguk does as he's told, laying his tongue flat.
Jimin's cock has a heady, salty taste from the precum that dribbles from its tip, and Jeongguk sucks it deep into his throat, swallowing around it with a moan. Jimin whimpers and gasps, rutting into Jeongguk's mouth, and Jeongguk adjusts to the desire to gag and breathes slowly through his nose.
"Do you want to watch as I fuck your pretty boyfriend?" Yoongi asks with a deep growl.
And Jeongguk does—he really does—but Jimin grips onto his hair tightly and shoves his cock so far into Jeongguk's throat that all he can do is focus on keeping a flow of oxygen in his lungs and blood.
"Don't stop, Ggukie," Jimin whines, and Jeongguk does as he is told, relaxing his throat as best as he can—anything to be a good boy.
Fingers come into view on Jimin's hip—long, hair fingers with thick yellowed nails that dig into Jimin's soft skin—and Jimin throws his head back and moans loudly as his body begins to tremble against the wall. Jeongguk can't see what is happening with Jimin's cock lodged in his throat, but he can feel how Jimin quakes from being entered by the monster behind him.
One thing Jeongguk knows is that Jimin will not last. Granted, Jimin likely won't cum in a heartbeat the way he did, but he tends to cum fast the first time, then take a while chasing his second high, which is usually quite euphoric. Jimin's hips have stilled completely, hand tight around Jeongguk's hair but more as a means to keep himself steady than to keep Jeongguk's mouth in place.
"Your boyfriend is so tight, holy fuck," Yoongi growls.
Jeongguk curses Yoongi for being in tune with what he desires, because of course the humiliation of being told how good his boyfriend feels by the stranger whose cock is buried inside him is definitely making the blood rush to his erection.
"Don't you wish it was you fucking him," Yoongi continues to tease.
Jeongguk sucks in hard, pulling a deep, strangled moan from Jimin's throat, and then he pulls his head back, letting Jimin's cock slip from between his lips, covered in saliva that connects in streaks from the tip to Jeongguk's lips.
"Nah," Jeongguk rasps, "I've fucked him plenty. He's all yours."
"Shut the fuck up," Jimin whines as he grips Jeongguk's hair harder and yanks him close, face colliding with his spit-slick length. This is another thing that gets them both going—playing indifference to make the other become mean. "Suck this fucking dick," Jimin groans, and Jeongguk allows him to grind his face against his cock.
"If you insist," Yoongi groans, and he must pull out, because Jimin's hips rock, following the movement. "I'll take him, then; I'll make him all...mine."
Jeongguk turns his face in time for Yoongi to rut into Jimin hard enough to slam his erection into Jeongguk's cheek. It stings a bit, but the scream that Jimin lets out more than makes up for the discomfort, and Jeongguk reaches for Jimin's thighs and attempts to hold them in place as Yoongi sets a rough pace fucking him.
Jimin wails like a banshee, and Yoongi growls, low, deep sounds that make Jeongguk's heart pound. The lewd slap of skin against skin echoes through the room, along with loud squelches, making Jeongguk wish he could see how wet Yoongi has made them.
"W-won't last long," Jimin sobs between moans, and Jeongguk sits high on his knees and takes Jimin's length in one hand, slowly stroking from base to tip and making Jimin moan even louder—soft whimpers punctuated with moans that edge on screams.
"Let me know when you want my knot, little one," Yoongi growls.
Jeongguk wishes he were the one getting knotted—whatever the fuck that even means—but he has something else in mind, and he cannot wait for Jimin to cum so they can chase their next high together.
"Please," Jimin whimpers, tugging on Jeongguk's hair. "Please, Ggukie."
Although Jeongguk would like nothing more than to taste the precum that leaks from his boyfriend's pretty dick, he knows that the second his lips are around it, it's over, and he wants Jimin to savor the feeling of being fucked into the wall by a werewolf a little while longer. Yoongi's hips are brutal, but he has both hands holding Jimin in place, making it easier for Jeongguk to eventually suck his dick without risking a broken nose.
"C-close," Jimin whimpers as his cock slaps against his tummy, creating a sticky patch below his belly button.
"How close, baby?" Jeongguk asks as he leans forward and nudges Jimin's cock with his nose.
Jimin whimpers and lets his forehead fall into the edge of the wall, which tells Jeongguk everything he needs to know. Jimin is overcome with lust but not so much that he is ready to beg. Jeongguk continues to nuzzle his nose against Jimin's length, letting out deep breaths against his skin, listening as Jimin's whines become pitchier and more broken—more desperate.
"Please," Jimin finally whimpers. "Please, please."
Jeongguk licks from base to tip and smiles as he feels pleasure quake through Jimin, who continues to whimper desperate pleas, gripping Jeongguk's hair tightly in his fist while his forehead rubs against the wall.
Yoongi slows his thrusts, and Jeongguk takes the opportunity to sit higher on his knees and suck Jimin into his throat nice and slow, pulling deep moans from him.
"Please, please," Jimin continues to sob, over and over like a prayer.
"Does little one wish to cum?" Yoongi growls.
Jimin continues to beg—a record stuck on repeat—and Jeongguk bobs his head and sucks his cheeks in tight. Jimin quakes, voice broken, with moans coming out in pitchy sobs. Jeongguk wonders if Yoongi is knotting—or whatever the fuck Jimin said—and if it’s overwhelming.
“Fu—aaah!” Jimin sobs as he tugs Jeongguk’s hair and cum bursts down his throat. Jeongguk gags at first, not prepared for the onslaught of rope after rope of viscous liquid hitting his tongue and the roof of his mouth, cock poking him deep enough to tickle.
Jimin's body seems to stiffen, then he screams, “Oh fuck!” as his limb flail frantically. “It’s too much! I can’t take it, oh god, it hurts!”
Jeongguk swallows Jimin's cum and releases his cock as he looks up in surprise, assessing the situation and finding everything to look normal. He wonders if whatever is happening could have to do with Yoongi's cock, but Yoongi's hands open, fingers letting up on Jimin's hips, and Jimin sighs with relief.
"I wasn't really ripping your skin open, baby," Yoongi groans into Jimin's neck. "It's okay, you're safe." Jimin's moans become much more steady, and his eyes roll back. “What do you need, little one? No knot, or a new form?”
Jimin may as well be speaking tongues; nothing comes out that is remotely coherent. Jeongguk wonders if Yoongi’s monster cock has, in fact, expanded inside Jimin, and he rasps, voice wrecked from his throat being fucked, “He gets too sensitive after he cums; might need to stop for a bit. What about a snake-human hybrid?”
With a pleased grown, Jimin nods, cheek smooshed against the wall as he mutters, “Wrap me in a tight hug, Yoonie.”
“Anything for you, little one," Yoongi groans as his form begins to shift, hair disappearing from his skin and becoming more human-like, despite the hint of scales that begin to cover him.
Yoongi's legs become a thick tail, which wraps around Jimin's legs, lifting him away from the wall and turning him so that his body is against Yoongi's in a protective hug.
"You too, darling," Yoongi says as his tail wraps around Jeongguk and pulls him close.
The scale of the cabin has shifted, and Yoongi and Jimin loom tall over Jeongguk as they move into the center of the space, which is clear of all furnishings but a large mattress, that is covered in pillows and blankets.
The feeling of Yoongi's undulating body and smooth scales is so unlike anything Jeongguk has ever felt, and he struggles to fully comprehend it, watching with wide eyes as the tail ensnares him. They settle on the mattress with Yoongi's upper half leaning against the wall and Jimin cradled against his chest, and they stay a while, silent as the warmth radiating from Yoongi's gentle but firm hold soothes them.
For a split moment, Jeongguk wonders if Yoongi is actually just some weirdo in the woods who has drugged them, and this is nothing but a strange trip. But, then again, that would not explain how they came to find this shapeshifting cabin in the first place. Somehow, the only explanation that makes sense is that Yoongi truly is some deity with otherworldly powers.
"How are you feeling, little one?" Yoongi asks as he nuzzles his gorgeous, snake-like face into Jimin's neck.
"Good," Jimin groans, and Jeongguk can hear the smile on his voice.
"Why don't you lay down and catch your breath while I fuck your pretty boyfriend, hmm?"
Jimin turns and looks down at Jeongguk with a soft smile, then nods and says, "Okay."
Jeongguk's body is shifted into place as Yoongi moves to bend and lay Jimin down on the bed. He can feel himself get coiled down Yoongi's tail, toward the tip of it. Then, he is lifted and held in the air, with his arms pinned to his sides and his feet sticking out from the bottom of Yoongi's tight grasp.
"You're s-so pretty, I could s-s-s-swallow you whole," Yoongi hisses as he pulls Jeongguk close. Jeongguk feels his breath hitch and, suddenly, he wants nothing more.
"Don't tease me," Jeongguk whines, jutting out his lip into a pout.
Yoongi grins, his slit pupils turning into large disks against bright green irises, which sends a chill down Jeongguk's back. A flick of Yoongi's long, forked tongue has Jeongguk's heart pounding and his mind wandering, and he wonders if Yoongi meant it. He wonders if he will have to beg.
Slowly, Yoongi lifts Jeongguk into the air, up above his head, then angles Jeongguk's feet toward his mouth as he flicks his tongue out to tickle the bottoms of his feet. Jeongguk flexes his toes and attempts to kick away, but Yoongi's hold is so tight, all he can do is whimper and giggle.
"Please," Jeongguk whines.
"Pleas-s-se, what?"
Jeongguk closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and says, "Swallow me whole."
"Oh my god," Jimin groans from the bed, "you can't say shit about me wanting werewolf dick now that I know you're into vore!"
Jeongguk groans. Vore is not something he is into; he has literally never even considered the possibility until this very moment. But, of course, Jimin will never let him live it down.
"I'm not—it's not something I'm into, I just—leave me alone."
Jimin giggles—the light but maniacal laugh that indicates that he is up to no good, and Jeongguk does his best to relax, eyes still squeezed close as he hovers over his captor. Yoongi's tail slithers over Jeongguk's body until more of his legs are sticking out, and Yoongi's tongue travels over Jeongguk's feet and ankles, leaving moist spots of spit behind.
"Open your eyes-s-s," Yoongi hisses. "I want you to watch while I eat you."
Jeongguk swallows a lump of nervousness as he slowly opens his eyes and angles his head to peer down at Yoongi. Even as a monster who is threatening to literally swallow him whole, Yoongi is the prettiest being Jeongguk has ever seen, and he feels himself relax and accept his fate.
Despite watching nature documentaries and knowing how snake mouths work, Jeongguk is still shocked when Yoongi opens his mouth, stretching his jaw far and wide enough to fit Jeongguk's entire body. Two large fangs stick out from Yoongi's top gums, glistening and sharp, and Jeongguk decides that—here and now—this is by far the strangest erection he has ever gotten.
Jeongguk's toes are the first to make it into Yoongi's mouth—warm, wet and soft—and Yoongi pauses and cocks an eyebrow to Jeongguk as if to ask if this is still something he wants to do. Jeongguk nods his head despite the inkling of fear he feels. He wonders if, once again, Yoongi has lowered his spell in order to make the experience feel real.
With each inch of Jeongguk's body that enters Yoongi's mouth, his tail slithers away, coiling and rippling against Jeongguk's skin. Once he is up to his thighs, Yoongi stops swallowing to flick his tongue out at Jeongguk's cock, sending a wave of pleasure coursing through him.
"Oh, fuck," Jeongguk whimpers as the flicks become slow, precise laves, up and down from base to tip, teasing the slit to gather the precum that dribbles out. It feels amazing, but it's not enough, and Jeongguk groans and whines from the tease.
Somewhere, in the recesses of Jeongguk's mind, a tiny voice tells him that he will soon be dying—that this is the last thing he is ever going to experience. The faint ringing of alarm bells tells Jeongguk he should be panicking—that he should be screaming and begging for Yoongi to stop. But he feels relaxed and serene as the teasing ends, and Yoongi begins to slowly ease him into his throat.
"Is this s-s-still something you want, pretty?" Jeongguk hears Yoongi ask, possibly inside his head, or perhaps echoing around the entire cabin.
"Yes," Jeongguk whimpers softly. "Please."
Jeongguk is eased down, to his pecs, and down further, to his shoulders. With his head sticking out and his arms pinned to his sides, Yoongi's tail falls away, and Jeongguk gazes out of the monster's mouth to his boyfriend, who lays propped on his elbows, cock resting half-hard against his tummy, and eyes wide and round.
With one more swallow, all the world does dark, and Jeongguk holds his breath on instinct as he sinks down, down, down.
The light that comes in from Yoongi's open mouth allows Jeongguk to see the tan lining of his trachea. Jeongguk tries to breathe through his nose, and upon finding out that he can, lets out a shaky exhale. A battle rages inside Jeongguk—every nerve attempting to convince him that he is both safe from harm and in imminent danger.
Yoongi swallows once more, sending Jeongguk further into his body, and the slide of his esophageal lining rubs against Jeongguk's cock, punching a loud moan from him as pleasure bursts. He wants to touch himself so badly—wants to chase another high and this time enjoy it for more than a few minutes—but he is stuck in position in the narrow passageway.
And now that Jeongguk is here, he realizes he has not considered a savory way out. Does he travel all the way through and get shat out, or will Yoongi vomit him up—back the way he came?
"S-s-so delicious-s," Yoongi's voice calls to Jeongguk. "What would my pretty dinner like, now?"
"Snakes have two dicks, right?" Jeongguk mutters.
Yoongi hums a sound that sounds like an agreement.
"Fuck us both," Jeongguk suggests. "A-after getting me out of here, of course."
"Do you want to come out now?" Yoongi asks. "Or would you like to feel the crushing weight of death a little more?"
"Crush me," Jeongguk responds without giving it any thought.
"S-s-slap me when you want to come out," Yoongi hisses, voice echoing around the chamber, which begins undulating up and down, sinking Jeongguk further into the tight squeeze.
The walls of the snake's tract are wet with a texture that Jeongguk can only compare to the inside of his boyfriend's ass when he's fingering him open. Blood rushes to Jeongguk's cock, which twitches as a reminder that he is, in fact, a little freak who gets hard from the thought of being swallowed whole. Perhaps, he thinks, he would feel embarrassed if it didn't turn him on so fucking much. Or, if Yoongi weren't so non-judgmental and accommodating.
As he slides further into the belly of the beast, everything becomes too dark to see, but Jeongguk keeps his eyes open, eager not to miss something if it does come into view. His shoulders begin to ache as the walls of the snake's insides squeeze him. Somehow, still, his hands have room to move, down by his hips. Yoongi really is the master of illusion and comfort.
The air begins to feel difficult to breathe in adequately—or, perhaps the constant pressure on his shoulders is making him panic. Jeongguk's hands flex and begin to feel around, rubbing against the slick walls that close in on him. He whimpers against his will and squeezes his eyes shut, despite finding the same darkness behind his lids.
A rumble comes from above, much like a groan or a growl, and Jeongguk panics, sucking in his breath quickly, feeling as if his lungs might burst at any moment. He spreads his hands open and squeezes them shut, considering whether to tap out.
But rather than trying to break free, Jeongguk first rolls his hips forward, rubbing his cock against the warm, moist, flesh. Another groan echoes around him, and Jeongguk ruts a little harder in the confined space. He wonders if Yoongi likes how it feels or if he is just playing with his food.
Jeongguk lets his head roll back as he continues to slowly thrust against the fleshy tissues surrounding him. It feels good—far better than he imagined it might, and despite the sinking feeling that he is only sliding deeper and deeper into the never-ending beast, he continues to lazily masturbate.
“S-s-so naughty, using me for your pleas-s-sure,” Yoongi’s voice teases.
“Feels good,” Jeongguk groans.
The flesh around Jeongguk quakes, vibrating against him so perfectly, and it punches a moan from inside him. But it is still not enough, and he is beginning to worry that he is leaving Jimin alone for too long. Luckily, Yoongi decides to begin squeezing and swallowing him harder and further, and the arousal is quickly replaced with panic as the flesh begins to close in around his chest and neck.
At first, Jeongguk cannot adequately move his hand, and he panics, intaking a sharp breath that feels too weak to fill his lungs. Then, he does his best to flail his arms, missing several times until finally, the flesh pulsates out and away just far enough that Jeongguk can slap the back of his hand against Yoongi's insides.
"Please!" Jeongguk croaks as his chest begins to ache from a lack of sufficient air. "Yoongi, please!"
In a flash, light floods through Jeongguk's eyelids, and he inhales deeply, gasping loudly as the sting of oxygen works its way into his blood. He opens his eyes to find Jimin laying on his side, propped up on one elbow with his head resting in his hand and a devious grin on his face.
"Did you cum inside the snake?" Jimin asks with a hint of tease.
"No," Jeongguk rasps, throat still sore from being fucked, and even sorer from near-suffocation.
"Ah," Jimin says, glancing down at Jeongguk's crotch. "I guess not, since your dick is still rock hard."
Jeongguk glances down to find his erection pressed against his stomach. He also notices that the tail of the snake-hybrid Yoongi is still around him, tensing and relaxing in a loose coil that circles his form. He sits on his hip with his legs bent beneath him and his arms anchoring him against the large mattress. As soon as he seems aware of his surroundings, the tail begins to tighten around him, and he turns to find the beast looming over him.
Yoongi bends at the torso, which is human-like and pale, covered in scales that are fainter on his belly, chest and throat but darker with hints of green on his sides and arms, and along his neck and cheeks. His tongue pokes out and flicks toward Jeongguk as he bends and gazes at him with wide, bright green eyes.
"Did my pretty dinner like the crus-s-shing feeling of being s-s-swallowed whole?" Yoongi hisses brightly, lips curving into a smirk.
"I did," Jeongguk admits.
"You were s-s-so delicious, but there is more I want to tas-s-ste."
"Oh?" Jeongguk asks, feeling his pulse quicken.
Without further preamble, Yoongi's tail shifts Jeongguk around, lifting him and turning him. He stumbles forward on his hands and knees, and before he can correct himself, the long, forked tongue flicks against Jeongguk's asshole, sending a burst of pleasure through him.
Jeongguk whimpers as he falls forward more, arms trembling beneath him as Yoongi continues to tongue at his hole. The quickness of the movements is little more than a tease, but the feeling is unfamiliar enough that Jeongguk keeps himself presented for more.
Small hands push Jeongguk's hair back and lift his head, and he gasps as Jimin's beautiful face comes into view. He wears a mischievous look, and opens his mouth to speak, but Jeongguk feels suddenly so overcome with emotion, that he raises a hand to gently take Jimin by the head and pull him close.
"Baby," Jeongguk mutters, "kiss me."
Whatever words were coming from between Jimin's perfect lips die there as Jimin leans forward and grins, giving Jeongguk access to suck and lick and moan against him. Jimin tastes like heaven—faintly sweet and perfectly like him, and Jeongguk cannot remember the last time they kissed. Maybe while they were on the beach earlier—the first time, when they made it there and back without the woods shifting around them. But certainly not during their last trudge out. And certainly not with so much passion, for quite a while.
Instead, Jeongguk has been grumpy and impatient, letting himself easily become upset with Jimin. Sweet, kind, beautiful Jimin, who never does anything but patiently allow Jeongguk to cool down and gather his thoughts. Jeongguk feels like an asshole as he pulls Jimin closer and licks against his tongue with a little more hunger.
Yoongi's snake tongue presses inside Jeongguk, long and eager and becoming something much thicker—something that gives Jeongguk's rim a bit of a stretch. Jeongguk breaks from the kiss and moans as Yoongi tongue-fucks him.
"You like that, baby?" Jimin asks as he nips and sucks at Jeongguk's bottom lip. "Does Yoongi make you feel good?"
Jeongguk nods in short, languid movements as Yoongi's tongue seems to expand inside him, leaking saliva—or whatever Yoongi has secreting from it—down his balls to drip on the many layers of snake tail that coil around him.
"F-fuck us, please," Jeongguk whimpers, knowing damn well he is not stretched far enough to take a cock.
"S-s-so impatient," Yoongi teases, voice sounding far too clear for his tongue to be working Jeongguk open—Jeongguk has to remind himself that Yoongi is, in fact, not human.
"Please," Jeongguk begs as Jimin's lips travel down his chin, to his throat and neck. "Please fuck me."
The tongue slowly pulls out of Jeongguk, and he whines, clenching around nothing and suddenly feeling so empty. The tail beneath him shifts and trails away, leaving him on his hands and knees in front of Jimin, and Jimin's lips leave ghosts of barely wet kiss marks along Jeongguk's neck, down to his clavicle, and back up.
"Lay down beneath me, baby," Jeongguk mutters to Jimin, still in a daze from everything he has experienced. "He's a snake hybrid, so he has two dicks. I want him to fuck us both while I kiss you until your lips are swollen like raspberries."
Jimin hums, soft and sweet with a curious lilt, then repositions himself until his legs are between Jeongguk's arms and he is sliding himself beneath him. Jimin is so beautiful—angelic, almost—that Jeongguk cannot look away. How Jeongguk could ever lose his temper with someone so kind and perfect, he will never know.
Two warm, large hands grab Jeongguk's hips and tug him back until he is in just the right position. Then slowly, gently, he feels the soft press of a blunt, lubricated cock against his ass. One of Yoongi's hands rubs up Jeongguk's back and down again, while the other gropes his ass and spreads him open. Beneath him, Jimin reaches up to gently pinch at his nipples, making Jeongguk shiver with anticipation. He can't help but wonder how he got so lucky.
Yoongi presses forward just enough to breach Jeongguk's rim with the tip of his cock. From what he can tell, it feels human, and Jeongguk's mind attempts to wonder what snake dicks might look like before deciding it is probably horrifying, and he does not need to know. Luckily, the pain from the stretch is just present enough that Jeongguk could not, for the life of him, hold onto a fully formed, coherent thought if he tried.
Jeongguk's head falls forward, and he leans down to nuzzle into Jimin's neck as Yoongi slowly pulls out and presses back in. Choked, broken sobs escape from between his lips with each movement, sending shockwaves of pain and pleasure through his body.
Jimin's voice is playful as he says, "You sound so pretty when he hurts you, Ggukie."
Jeongguk cannot respond—can only cry out as Yoongi presses forward again, this time much deeper than the last. His breath is hot and damp against Jimin's skin as he pants and whimpers, burying his face and resisting the urge to bite.
"S-s-so fucking tight," Yoongi hisses as he slowly rolls his hips, dragging his cock along Jeongguk's tight walls, past each ring of muscle. "Am I hurting you, pretty human?"
Yes, Jeongguk thinks, you are. But everything feels so good, he cannot bring himself to admit it, instead moving his lips from Jimin's skin just enough to grit, "Don't stop," between his teeth.
"Here, little one," Yoongi says, and Jimin moves his head to look at Yoongi, then reaches for something.
Jeongguk feels as Jimin angles his hips upward, then settles, and he assumes that he just wedged a pillow beneath his ass. At this angle, their cocks are touching, and as Jeongguk begins to adjust to the stretch, his mind starts to wander to them rutting against each other while Yoongi fucks them in tandem.
"Can you lift your legs, little one?" Yoongi asks, and Jimin hums while he wraps his legs around Jeongguk's hips and smiles brightly with wide, eager eyes.
Yoongi adjusts behind them with one cock still inside Jeongguk, and then, as he presses forward, burying himself deeper, Jeongguk watches with delight as Jimin's face twists and contorts into pained pleasure that matches how he felt just moments ago.
"Oh, god," Jimin whimpers as his eyes squeeze shut, and Jeongguk leans forward to suck a mark against his neck, pulling even sweeter sounds from him as Yoongi's hips slowly roll to a languid but steady pace.
"Feel good, baby?" Jeongguk barely manages to ask, each syllable strained as Yoongi's cock completely intoxicates him.
Jimin hums and whines a breathy, "Uh-huh," as he grips the comforter below him tightly.
"Hold me," Jeongguk commands, and Jimin opens his eyes and wraps his arms around Jeongguk, still appearing absolutely fucking gone but attempting to ground himself and adjust to the feeling.
Jeongguk begins to push his hips back against Yoongi's thrusts and pull forward when Yoongi ruts back, fucking himself on Yoongi while frotting against Jimin's cock. Jimin's hips tremble and jolt with each thrust, and he whimpers and writhes beneath Jeongguk so perfectly.
"Fuck, you're amazing," Jeongguk groans as he rubs a hand over Jimin's pec and shoulder, giving his soft skin gentle squeezes. "You feel so good."
Jimin nods and whimpers, and attempts to pick his head up, muttering, "Wanna kiss you," but he appears too lost to pleasure to expend any energy. Yoongi's tail slithers beneath Jimin, lifting his head and torso, and Jimin throws his arms over Jeongguk's neck and pulls him close to slot their lips together.
Yoongi's pace begins to quicken, but his thrusts don't slam, making it easy for Jeongguk to stay connected to Jimin's plush lips, which he sucks and kisses, just as he promised to. The feeling of being fucked while their cocks slided beside one another and Jimin holds him close with all limbs wrapped around him, is surreal, and Jeongguk feels his pleasure building quickly, threatening to devour him. He wants to cum—wants to feel Jimin cum with him—but he worries that once he does, he might not have anything left in him. He doesn't want this experience to end.
As Jeongguk nibbles and sucks on Jimin's lips, Jimin falls pliant beneath him, muttering nonsense while his grasp on Jeongguk's neck begins to loosen and fall away. Jimin slips into subspace so easily, and ordinarily, Jeongguk has to watch for cues that he needs more or less to keep him floating without overwhelming him. He has the urge to make sure Yoongi knows this—that he can take care of Jimin just as well—but he remembers that Yoongi already knows what they desire, so he tries to let go, too.
The pace of Yoongi's thrusts slow—languid and deep—and Jeongguk gently falls forward against Jimin, burying his face in his neck to suck and kiss while he, too, begins to float off into the clouds. Jeongguk is always too hesitant to let go and experience what Jimin does—always afraid of sub-drop, never wanting to be someone else's to take care of and worry about. He wants to feel it, and, as everything becomes foggy and far away while also being intense and so close he feels enveloped by the thick, damp air, he reminds himself that Yoongi did not harm him while swallowing him alive, and he will not harm him now.
Jeongguk has no idea how long it takes before he cums, but suddenly, Jimin is whimpering and shouting beneath him, and he is pulled back to reality—if he can call whatever is happening in this cabin real at all—just in time to feel the slick of Jimin's release against his cock, making the slide of their lengths together push Jeongguk over the edge. He kisses along Jimin's neck and shoulder, head too heavy to pick up and chase after his lips, muttering nonsense about love and forever and perfect while his cock pulsates with an insane amount of cum.
"Want you to cum too," Jimin moans with his head fallen to the side and a hand lazily reaching for Yoongi, against Jeongguk's side.
"Please," Jeongguk adds, suddenly desperate to feel Yoongi fill him. "Please, I want you to cum in me, too."
An arm wraps around Jeongguk's shoulder and pulls him up, onto his knees, and Jeongguk trembles and moans as Yoongi's cock is buried deeper, and moans again when Yoongi's face nuzzles against his.
"You want me to fill you up, pretty one?" Yoongi groans, and Jeongguk feels every inch of his skin prickle with goosebumps.
"Please."
Yoongi picks up his pace, fucking Jeongguk hard and fast while reaching past Jeongguk to grope at Jimin's chest and gently squeeze his neck. Jimin writhes and moans, eyes glazed over and far away with a smile tugging on his lips, and Jeongguk wants to taste those lips so badly, but Yoongi's grip on him is firm.
Fucking a deity that is built to know what you desire feels like a dangerous game, Jeongguk thinks, as Yoongi's hand palms at his nipple and he begins to moan loudly in his ear. Another hand tugs at his hair, and one gently squeezes his throat, and Jeongguk tries not to dwell on what this multi-armed beast must look like behind him, closing his eyes to fully embrace each sensation.
When Yoongi finally does cum, Jeongguk's cock is already hard again. He has no idea how such a thing could be possible—has no clue if he could possibly reach another orgasm. As Yoongi thrusts slow and deep and trembles while his release fills Jeongguk, he cannot possibly fathom another form Yoongi could possibly take that would top what just happened.
Jimin must be able to visualize another form, however, because slowly, the arms that wrap around them and the tail that holds Jimin up, begin to shift. Deep purple tentacles slowly take solid form and coil around both Jimin and Jeongguk's bodies and limbs and lift them until they are hovering above the bed, in upright positions, facing one another.
"You imagined a tentacle monster?" Jeongguk teases, watching the dopey smile on Jimin's lips upturn.
"You like creatures with fangs too much," Jimin mutters in response, making Jeongguk chuckle and say, "I suppose you're right."
Yoongi comes into view beside the two of them, hovering nude, in his human form, with his cock hard and heavy against his tummy and his tentacles pale at the base and becoming a deep purple toward the ends. Tentacles continue to slowly fuck Jimin and Jeongguk, but the feeling of the appendages cradling and slithering like snake tails is so mesmerizing, Jeongguk cannot quite focus on his own pleasure.
"My pretty, perfect boys," Yoongi rasps, voice nearly human once more, though there is a supernatural echo to it that fills the room. "So good for me. Everything I could ever need."
Tentacles cradle Jeongguk and fuck him, slow and steady and so perfectly. Before him, Jimin is in the same position—head lolled back, and mouth agape as a tentacle fucks him while another slowly strokes his cock. He looks absolutely gone, blinking heavily as if at any moment, he might wake up to a different reality. Jeongguk's lids suddenly feel heavy, and he fears that he, too, might suddenly appear well-rested elsewhere. Yoongi tucks some hair behind his ear and gives him a genuine, sad smile.
"You're so good for me," Yoongi repeats, rubbing Jeongguk's cheek gently. "Absolutely perfect."
Jeongguk feels the urge to nod off—body exhausted and fucked out and ready to retire. He fights the feeling and attempts to reach out to Yoongi, frowning when his heavy arms don't go too far.
"Please don't let me forget you," Jeongguk pleads, feeling himself succumb to the ensnaring desire to rest. "Please. I can't forget this."
"You've been so perfect for me," Yoongi mutters with sad eyes, as if stuck on repeat. "Thank you, baby."
"No matter what," Jeongguk insists as his eyelids droop and the world spins into darkness, "you can't make me forget."
"So good for me," Yoongi groans. "So, so perfect."
Jeongguk reaches out, but his hand grasps onto nothing. It's as if he's falling down, down, down into darkness until suddenly—
Jeongguk jolts awake, gasping for air as he sits up in bed. He doesn't get too far, held back by Jimin's arm, which is slung over his chest. A cursory glance shows Jeongguk that he is in his hotel room, in bed, nude with his boyfriend. At the tip of his tongue are words left unspoken, but for the life of him, he cannot remember what they are, nor can he remember who they are for.
Jimin holds Jeongguk tight and grumbles, pulling on him as if beckoning him to return to sleep, and Jeongguk allows himself to be pulled into Jimin and nuzzles against his head, breathing in his slightly floral scent as he returns to sleep. Whatever it is Jeongguk dreamt of, he hopes he might return to it.
With a huff, Jeongguk allows Jimin to take him by the hand and lead him back through the woods. They have been traversing the area for a while now, going off-path rather than returning to the resort, despite how late in the evening it is becoming. Jimin drags him along, and Jeongguk feels amused by Jimin's excitement with nowhere else to be—patient and serene, as long as he is with the man he loves.
Somewhere, in the back of his mind, Jeongguk feels a longing that nags at him. A nostalgia that the trees seem to encourage despite providing no answers. Jeongguk thinks perhaps this is the place they visited in his dreams. He considers telling Jimin, but wonders if some things are better left unsaid.
With the resort just past the clearing to the right, Jimin stops abruptly and turns to the left. He squeezes Jeongguk's hand tightly, and in that moment, Jeongguk remembers bits of the dream he had. He remembers warm apple pie and sharp fangs and everything beyond his wildest imagination.
"Do you miss him too?" Jimin asks, and Jeongguk's breath hitches.
Him. Dark, wild hair, pale, pretty skin, and a deep, raspy voice. Fangs and nails and scales and of course Jeongguk misses him. Suddenly, every moment spent with him is clear as day, as if Jeongguk had never left and his entire body aches for him. Suddenly, Jeongguk remembers the way he felt in the man's hold, alive for the first time in years, and in love again with the most beautiful man in the world.
"Yeah," is all Jeongguk can bring himself to say as he stares ahead at the clearing that should be a cabin. He misses him too—aching and deep, more than he has ever missed someone before. It is as if he can still feel the ghost of him on his skin, and although he is so grateful to have Jimin by his side, there is a nostalgia he fears will never leave him. "Yeah, I miss him, too."
tag list: @codeinebelle @dasexydevitt13 @giriiboyy @moonleeai @m1sss1mp @spookyminyunki
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The Ghost of You On My Skin is copyright 2022-2023 theharrowing, all rights reserved.
#yoonminkook#jungkook smut#jimin smut#yoongi smut#bts smut#yoongi x jimin x jungkook#bts monster fucking#fic: the ghost of you on my skin
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Aspen (oc) with the Narrator from tsp
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Instead of it being the office its the fatui headquarters !
hints of Stanley x Narrator
cw - Aspen having a panic attack, reliving a traumatic experience, mentioning of illegal extermination, formally being in a dangerous work environment.
〜☆
a/n- wdym i decided to make a fic surrounding my comfort character and my oc, preposterous 🙄 Aspen is in fact a Genshin oc but thats besides the point :) I wrote this awhile ago so there may be some spelling errors, my apologies for that but enjoy !
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“This is a story about a..person named Aspen.” A voice started to speak, Aspen recognized the place immediately, their breath started to speed up negative memories filled up Aspen’s head. That voice who spoke earlier seemed to fade away from Aspen’s head as they began to run out of that room, not caring if anyone was with them.
・
“Will you at LEAST let the narrator finish?” This so-called Narrator complained.
・
The place where Aspen stopped was a closet, not another thought went through Aspen’s head before hiding themselves into that closet,locking it behind them. Aspen collapsed to the floor, crawling into a ball, shaking back and forth whilst hot tears fell down their face.
・
“Oh? Aspen? Where did you go?.” he asked, the narrator changing his tone
・
“Aspen?”
・
Though Aspen heard the calls coming from the narrator but they just couldn’t reply, tears fell and they fell fast, the shaking of Aspen’s body got much faster, They did agree to be in this situation out of pure boredom. However what Aspen did not agree to was for their parable to be in the place in which gave Aspen the most trauma.
・
The Narrator appeared onto the ground in a way, he appeared with a physical form. Usually he would just appear as a black blob that appeared to be a man with a yellow tie; sometimes his body only had a yellow outline that showed his clothing, glasses, some of his facial features and his hair but this time was different.
・
Seeing how Aspen just disappeared, he thought it would be better to appear in a physical. Aspen ran faster than the cameras could catch up, that's when he heard it, a sound of sobbing coming from one of the rooms, he walked and walked before it the sound became louder…Aspen heard the walking swiftly coming up, they feared the worst that it wasn’t the..the..the thing! Aspen agreed to. Did the fatui really take Aspen back!? Is it all going to happen again? Aspen didn’t want to do it all over again..They just couldn’t! Aspen doesn’t want to be a subject of human experimentation again, if..if Aspen is there with those fuckers they might as well be dead once Aspen is found. ‘ Damn It, Aspen! Stop your whining! ’ Aspen thought to themselves, they knew full well they were having another panic attack once again. Aspen was healing so well but why couldn’t they face this place? They would probably freeze up if Aspen saw him again..
・
Aspen heard keys jangling as they were heading towards the closet where Aspen hid.
・
“Hm? I thought this door was unlocked..Must’ve been incorrect.” The Narrator whispered to himself, it struck him.
・
The sobbing was coming from here so the Narrator unlocked the door, to see Aspen now hurdled up on the floor on their side, shock struck the Narrator he never experienced another person having a panic attack. Oh Lord..Stanley would know what to do..but he isn’t here currently.
・
The Narrator immediately knelt down next to Aspen “Aspen.., breath.” he said calmly, “With me now, In..” he continued, “And out.” Aspen was trying so hard but it felt like they just couldn’t, with the Narrator reassuring them they finally did it. When Aspen looked up, they were definitely expecting a member of the Fatui trying to do good but what they saw wasn’t a member of the Fatui.
・
Aspen saw a middle aged man who had gray hair with a bright yellow stripe. His hair was slicked back, glass with yellow frames, a yellow tie which looked to have an arrow at the bottom. His outfit as a whole was a suit in which was gray, Aspen’s expression seemed to calm down when seeing it wasn’t someone apart from the Fatui.
・
Aspen flinched when the Narrator tried to touch their arm gently, Aspen sat upwards “I’m..sorry” they murmured out, the calm face Aspen would normally show completely faded away, internally Aspen was just a sad child who lost their parents so they were forced to grow up fast…faster than other kids.
・
“There’s nothing to apologize for, Aspen'' the narrator said, “Here..c’here..” he said, softly pulling Aspen into a hug. Aspen wasn’t sure on how to react..this was the first positive touch they’ve had in a long while..they practically melted into it after just doing nothing.
・
“Now, are you able to tell me what happened?” the Narrator asked, calmly. “Well,..” Aspen started before taking a deep breath, seeming to put a calm façade back on. “This place brings back a bountiful amount of terrible memories.” they let out a sigh, separating themselves from the hug.
・
“Let’s see..I’ll make up a new script and you can either go back to your home or you have permission to stay at my place with Stanley.” The Narrator when mentioning Stanley’s name he gave the name a bit of an eye roll but his face became covered with blush.
・
Aspen stood up, grabbing the hand of the Narrator which effectively pulled him up. “I’m already here, in this game sense of a world so might as well tag along with you.” Aspen replied to the offer, “Anyways..no one at home basically remembers me..” Aspen let out a long heavy sigh.
・
The Narrator gave Aspen a look of empathy when he heard Aspen say that. “Come now, we must get out before the reset happens.” quickly and quietly is how this was said. Before getting himself and Aspen out of this place, “We have a guest room upstairs, it’s next to mine and Stanley’s room.” the Narrator says, letting Aspen in first.
・
“Thanks,” Aspen smiles a bit, before walking in and noticing a bucket with stickers on it..? and also Stanley peeking around the corner, giving Aspen a wave.
◎
-The End-
#platonic#oc x canon#genshin impact oc#the stanley parable#the narrator#stannarrator#stanley x narrator#mentions of the bucket#stanley x bucket#original character#Aspen
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Strength of the Meek
Carrying a paper bag Dave walks into the cafeteria. He looks around the room and sees Kotzal waving him over. He walks over to him and sits down with Kotzal at a noticeably empty table.
"Hey Dave, how are you?" Kotzal asks with a grin. "You dont have to rub it in, I had no idea you were a natural," Dave grumbles.
"It's just that when you showed me the rules I realized how similar they were to a game I used to play on Geon. Thrum If I remember correctly." Kotzal and dave talk for some time, the topic changes quickly from poker to physical ability.
"How strong are humans anyway? I've seen your movies but you said they aren't a good representation of human strength." Kotzal asks intrigued.
"Were strong enough. Enough to take down something bigger than us, at least with some planning that is." Dave answers. "I mean back when humans still dwelled in caves we took down wooly mammoths, which were beasts around three times the size of a human."
"Oh, I didn't know that. It's pretty impressive to hear." Kotzal says more than intrigued at this point.
"What about when a human has to do something impossible, just to keep the ones they care about alive. What do you do then?" He asks, his face getting a bit more solemn.
"We push on, do whatever it takes, even if it means we tear ourselves apart doing so," Dave says with a look of sincerity. He then breaks the look and smiles warmly. "What's got you asking a question like that?"
Kotzal laughs nervously and scratches the back of his head. "I dont know, I just heard stories over the Ether."
The conversation ends as the buzzer goes off on everyone's watch. "Shit thought we had more time for lunch break. That blows." Dave sighs.
Dave and Kotzal start walking down a hallway towards their respective stations. Halfway towards Dave's station, the alarm sounds, as well as an explosion in a nearby hallway.
"What was that!" Kotzal panics, immediately hiding behind dave and shaking. Dave reacts accordingly, not to the explosion but to Kotzal hiding behind him. "Woah dude, you good?"
"Oh sorry, my species is a prey species on my home planet. We get jumpy when stuff like this happens."
Dave chuckles at the thought, "you know if you did this around the others im pretty sure they wouldn't be able to see you." His attention focuses back on the sound. " We should go check out what happened, we're engineers after all."
Kotzal steps out from behind dave nervously and agrees. They walk down the hallway towards the commotion. Smoke billows out of the walls, embers pour out of the holes as well.
A hulking beast pulls its way out of the hole, it had to be around 8 and a half feet tall. Just as dave gets a look at it, several more come out of the walls. Kotzal grabs dave and pulls him around the corner, away from the beasts.
"Get down! Those are Tarvok pirates. We need to go, we do Not want to pick a fight with those." Kotzal is freaking out, likely having a panic attack. He tries to pull Dave with him. Dave doesn't budge, instead, he stares at the wall and puts his hand on it. "I cant."
Kotzal gets more anxious and frenzied, pulling harder on Dave. "No We have to go, David dont do this." In response, Dave grins and puts his head on the cold metal wall. "I said I cant, This station is my baby. I've fixed her more than anyone else. I can't leave her."
Dave turns to Kotzal and continues. "Not to mention the number of people these guys could hurt. You know how far the nearest guard post is, and how understaffed it is. If I turn tail and run countless people will die. But If I distract them, buy us some time. Maybe I can save a few lives."
"But you'll die! You'll get killed, I can't have you do that. I can't lose you, You're the only one who even respects me, let alone is nice to me." He says as tears start to form in his four eyes.
Daves grin breaks and he pulls Kotzal into a hug, Kotzal's small stature causing him to look like a small child not wanting their parent to leave. "That's not happening. I ain't gonna die." Dave thinks for a moment and goes on. "How about you help me, I dont buy this scared child Schtick. There's something there, something strong. I can see that."
Dave breaks the hug and pulls a knife from his belt, and hands it over to him. Kotzal stares at the blade for a second and takes the knife and nods in agreement. "Use your speed and stature to your advantage. there's a lot of smoke, try to use that."
Dave and total talk for a minute discussing plans and strategies after they're done he grabs a pipe on the wall and rips it off, but not before speaking to the station itself. "Sorry about this."
Walking around the corner Dave bangs the pipe on the wall, getting the army of Tarvok's attention. "Hey you brutes, eyes on me." He says, resting the pipe on his shoulder.
One of the Tarvok's starts walking over to Dave with a look of hunger and anger. Dave grins, this being a part of his plan, and stomps on a jagged and sharp piece of metal, launching it into the air. To which Kotzal leaves cover from behind Dave and grabs the piece of metal and throws it into the eye of the Tarvok.
"See, I told you no one would be able to see you back there." Dave jokes. He takes a step forward and inspects the now corpse of the Tarvok. "Oh damn, straight into the eye." Kotzal meekly responds to the compliment. "Thanks, it was heavier than Im used to so I didn't think it hit where I wanted to."
"You're a good shot, keep it up." Dave compliments. For a split second, Dave swore he could see Kotzal's cheeks turn blue.
Dave starts walking forward towards the rest of the army, beckoning them to come to fight him. One soldier takes a step forward to fight. The hulking beast throws a punch towards Dave but he sides steps it and slams his weapon into a pipe next to the Tarvok.
The soldier notices this and started to laugh but a second later the pipe bursts and hot steam starts to burn the soldier and causing it to fall to the floor.
The next one rushes Dave and throws a punch at him, he absorbs the blow into his shoulder and uses the force to spin himself around and slam the pipe into the soldier's skull.
At the display of force, the rest of the Tarvok's take a step back from the carnage. "Hey Kotzal, I think I fucked my shoulder up. It's your turn. " Dave says quietly so the brutes in front of them won't hear. "Yeah, let's do it." He responds, trying to hide the fear in his voice.
Dave starts to run towards the group of Tarvok's with Kotzal following. Before he gets too close he ducks down and arches his back and Kotzal jumps off his back and launches himself toward the enemy.
With one hand he throws a sharp piece of metal in the neck of one of the soldiers and with the other he stabs another with the knife Dave gave him.
The last one is in front of them, he's bigger than the rest. Probably the leader. "Let me handle this one," Dave says as he blocks Kotzal from moving forward with the pipe.
Looking at the pipe in his hand, Dave realizes that the pipe is way too damaged to continue to be useful. He takes a step forward and throws the thing as hard as he can. The pipe flies through the air and when it's about to hit, the leader catches it.
As soon as he threw the pipe Dave started running towards the beast but only noticed that he caught the pipe when he was too close to do anything. The Leader propels his knee into Daves's gut, the spike on it spearing into dave.
"Oh fuck!" He screams as the spike goes through him. He falls back and tries to stop the bleeding. Another scream is heard, not of pain but rage. "You Fucker!" It's Kotzal, with the look of pure rage in his eyes.
"I'll kill you!" He screams as he starts running towards him. As he reaches him he jumps at the leader to get a clear shot at him. In retaliation, the Tarvok grabs him by the neck and holds him in the air. Kotzal doesn't seem to notice, the anger blinding him. He starts slashing wildly at the beast in front of him, a good majority hitting their targets.
Kotzal gets a good stab into the arm of the beast holding him, causing him to be dropped.
While on the ground he stabs the blade into the back of the knee of the Tarvok leader making him fall to his knees, lining him up for a stab to the side of his head, killing him.
He keeps stabbing the now dead Tarvok, more out of rage than him being unsure he's dead. After a few dozen stabs he stops and takes a second to breathe and remembers Dave. He turns around and sprints towards Dave.
He starts trying to help him staunch the bleeding and stabilize him. "No, no-no-no. Dont do this, you cant." He starts tearing up trying to help him.
"It's okay, you did well. Didn't expect the fucker to catch the pipe. I think this is it" Dave says as he rests on the wall, trying to do whatever he can to stop the bleeding.
"Dont say that! You'll be fine, I know what im doing. I can help you." Kotzal says frantically.
Dave looks at him and puts his bloodied hand on his shoulder. "You can't save me, an injury like this is impossible to fix up."
"Shut up!" Kotzals shouts as he slaps dave. "We aren't in the medical dark ages, You know how strong modern medicine is." a grin forms on Daves face as he shrugs. "Whatever you say," he says as his vision fades to black and passes out.
Daves eyes open and the bright light blinds him, "hey your awake." a familiar voice says. His eyes adjust to the light and he sees that Kotzal is sitting on the chair next to his bed.
Dave groans in pain as he tries to sit up. Kotzal puts a hand on his shoulder and stops him. "Dumbass, you can adjust the bed." He laughs, handing him the switch.
"How long was I out?" He asks as he raises the head of his bed. "About two days. You had us worried for a little while." Kotzal responds with a smile.
"You can't kill me that easily, its gonna take a lot more than that, I still have work to do here." He smiles back.
"Oh yeah, like what?" Kotzal asks. "The engines been making a thunking noise for the past week, I still figure out what the hell the problem is." They both start laughing for a minute and after they stop a silence is formed between them, which is promptly broken ten seconds later by dave. "Hey after they discharge me, do you wanna go to the bar and get a few drinks? I'll buy."
"Sure thing, I'd love to."
#Aliens#humans are terrifying#humans are space orcs#writing#MY OCs#my wrtiting#oc#oc character#frienship#sci-fi#writerscommunity
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Family Business
A/N: It took me a while to write and finish it, but I like the idea a lot. Hope you guys enjoy!
Pairing: Mafia!Steve Rogers x F!Reader
Word count: 3,008
Warnings: Death, weapons, mention of blood, swearing.
(Gif is not mine, by super-madi16)
Okay, so maybe this wasn’t the way you expected to spend an average Thursday night with your daughter.
Everything was going perfectly fine. The two of you were making dinner together in the large, modern kitchen of your New York penthouse, surrounding by the glimmering of lights from other buildings and down below in the bustling streets that never sleep.
Carbonara was on the menu. It was one of Stella’s favorite things to both make and eat. At the independent age of 16, it was rare that she wanted to spend time with you and Steve anymore. She would much rather be out with her friends and her dad’s credit card than to be cooped up in this rather ginormous penthouse the family called home.
But here she stood, stirring the sauce as you monitored the pasta, complaining about her day and about how stupid boys her age were (as she always put it she was looking for a man, not a boy which always resulted in Steve chocking on whatever he was eating or drinking at the time). That conversation resulted in complaining about school in general, and how much it sucked being a teen.
As you continued stirring the pasta and she went back on her phone to play another song from the Bluetooth speakers in the kitchen, a sudden gunshot erupted. Both of you froze, your eyes scanning the room to see all of the guards rushing in the direction of the noise. But it only took a fraction of a second for your mother bear instincts to kick in. Grabbing your daughter and pushing her into your chest, you desperately ran back and into the secret room behind your clothes in your walk-in closet, that Steve had designed especially for emergencies.
Running your fingers across the area, the door popped open. You desperately pushed your daughter in than yourself, shutting the metal door back with the huge lock and bar, and hid with her in one of the corners, turning the lights off. You could hear her heavy breathing, as clearly she was having a panic attack. Grabbing onto her and her soft hair, you held her and murmured sweet words of endearment in an attempt to calm her down, which seemed to work... some.
It wasn’t until you heard a loud bang against the door that you yourself softly gasped and clung onto your daughter, she let out a soft sob. Knowing someone, who was probably not an ally, was on the other side of the door frightened you and both her. She was the first, you noticed, to throw herself away from your and to a box only a few feet away. Through the dark, you could see her open the wooden box and grab a gun inside, her shaky hands visible. She slowly and as silently as she could, cocked the gun. “Stel,” You whispered to her, “I got it.” She shook her head. “Stella I told you-”
The loud crash from the metal door that one divided safety and danger between the two of you and the outside world came colliding down. You couldn’t identify much but a man with a gun in all black, his silhouette disrupting the light from your closet that seeped its way through the doorway. None of Steve’s men would dress in all black.
You weren’t sure what to do. In a fluster within your mind as your daughter held the sole weapon you two had and a man who could end it all right here, or worse, drag it on further out. Your eyes froze in a complete panic your hands involuntarily shaking and shivering cold with fear.
A gunshot sounded, the man falling to the floor in a single second as blood surrounding his body and ricocheted onto the walls. You gasped in relief, looking over to your daughter, “Stella?”
There the young girl, long brunette hair with delicate waves at the end, sat on her knees in complete horror and awe, staring at the dead body. She dropped the gun from her right hand and let out a horrid sob. Cupping her face in her hands, you rushed over on your hands and knees, holding her as tightly as you could without suffocating her body. You cooed her, brushing her soft hair in your fingers and placing your own chin on her head, engulfing both her body and soul within yours.
“I-I,” She mumbled, “I killed someone.” It took everything within your being not to start crying yourself, or worse, lash out at someone or something. The genuine and pure form of anger that pulsated in your veins made you want to rip something to shreds.
While ultimately this wasn’t Steve’s fault, you were mad at whoever did this. You had chosen this life with your husband, you two had chosen to have a child together. You brought her into this world, without her permission, and you always tried your hardest to keep her out of the world of Mafia.
She had been interested since day one of getting involved, being the head man, or headwoman just like Steve. And when she asked him about it all he wasn’t only happy to hear about her interest, he was proud. Something that Steve rarely meant, unless it was for Stella.
But you knew after tonight, that would change.
It was only a few minutes later, you were sure, but it felt like an hour for Steve himself and a whole military worth of his men to arrive. “Y/N?” He called out, running into your closet judging by the pattern of his feet moments on the hardwood floors, “Stella?”
His figure appeared in the light, his face turning from concern to sadness. Dropping the anger that once tensed his muscles, he walked over and dropped to the floor next to your daughter, as Bucky and Sam rounded the corner to see both the scene and the body in awe.
“Baby?” Steve cooed to your daughter. For the first time, she looked up with swollen and soaked eyes. Another sob escaped her lips as she moved from you to him, clinging onto his dress shirt for dear life as she cried into it, his large arms embracing her in a large hug as he kissed the top of her head. “It’s okay sweetheart, it’s okay.”
“D-dad,” She stuttered out, pulling away to look at him.
“Yeah, sweetie?” He looked down at her, still holding her partially.
“I killed someone.” He looked with big eyes at her, then calmed down and sighed.
“Okay.” He huffed out, “We’ll deal with it okay?” He looked back to Bucky and Sam, snapping only once and looking to the body which they had other men help them out with, as Steve turned both you and Stella away.
“Dad, I’m a murderer.” She mumbled as more tears fell down her red cheeks.
“No, sweetheart, no you’re not.” He sighed, “It was self-defense.”
“But I killed someone!” She argued.
“To protect you and your mother.” He repeated himself, “Darling, that’s self-defense. You’re not a murderer, and you never will be.” She continued to hold onto Steve, still crying. “Let’s get out of here, okay?” She nodded, her head still buried in his chest.
He helped you up onto your feet first, checking over your face and giving a quick kiss to the top of your forehead, before retreating back to Stella. He picked her up, carrying her bridal style into the living room. Placing her down on the couch gracefully like she was a porcelain doll, he cooed her a bit more before barking at the men around the room to remove themselves and go elsewhere in the house.
“Baby? Are you okay?” The two of you sat down on the couch. He was on her left, you were on her right. Running his hand through her hair to calm her down, he genuinely looked worried.
“I can’t do that again, Dad.” She leaned into his chest, “I can’t.” She mumbled.
“I know, sweetie, I know.” He sighed, still running his hand over her head. “You won’t ever have to again. I promise.” He gave her a tender kiss on the top of her head, you now rubbing her back in circles with one of your hands. “Do you want some dinner?” He asked her next, aware that no one had eaten yet. She shook her head. “Mkay.” He sighed, not wanting to push her.
“I just- I just wanna go to my room.” She pulled away a little, giving both you and Steve one more hug.
“You sure, honey?” He asked very lightly. She nodded.
“We’ll text you with dinner options, alright?” You spoke up and she nodded. “We love you.” You smiled at her. She nodded and walked away. Once she was up the stairs, Steve let out a sigh and moved closer to you, throwing his arm around you. You sank back into his chest, closing your eyes to absorb the warmth and safety.
“And how are you?” He asked, giving you a kiss on the head.
“As good as I can be.” You replied. “I’m just worried about her.” He nodded.
“I am too.” He admitted, “I’m so sorry that happened, it’s my job to protect you two and-”
“And you weren’t here so it’s not your fault, Steve.” You fought back peacefully.
“But if that fucker wouldn’t have-”
“Steve, stop.” You told him firmly, “There’s no need to blame yourself for any of this, okay? If we should be worried about anything it’s Stella.” He nodded in agreement.
You felt some guilt as well. You should have been the one to have the gun, you were the adult in the situation. Granted Stella was exactly like Steve; she was persistent, she was stubborn. Usually, that would get her places, she could even get more money out of Steve for shopping trips or to go out with her friends because of her negotiation skills and how she would never stop. But today was drastically different, this was a situation where you didn’t want those traits to play out. Especially the way they did.
You curled into his chest, his arms wrapping around your body, your back to his chest. “I love you, so much.” He mumbled into your hair.
“I love you too.” You slightly smiled, rubbing his arms with your hands.
“So you know what you want for dinner?” He asked you next.
“I don’t care,” You sighed, “Maybe that Italian spot a few blocks away. The one that Wanda’s family owns.”
“Oh yeah,” He responded, “Let’s get take out from there.” He pulled out his phone, still holding you with one arm, and got the menu. “Should we get Stel something?” He asked, you nodded.
“Even if she doesn’t eat it tonight we can keep it in the fridge.” He nodded in agreement.
“What do you think she would want?” He asked you again and you lightly laughed.
“You know what she wants.” You rolled her eyes.
“Chicken tenders.” You both said in tandem, light laughter following. “Mkay love,” He got up, letting you set yourself back on the pillows, “I’m gonna go order, alright?” You nodded in agreement.
As he departed down the hall to order, to leave you without any disturbance, you chose to watch some TV. More as a mindless distraction, something to keep your eyes from replaying the scene in your mind of your daughter defending you. Something to occupy the ringing in your ears between the gunshot and the sobs of the one you loved most.
You tried so hard to be calm and collected, for both her and Steve. You knew Steve would loathe himself enough about all of this, now was your time to be the rock in the family. Even if you weren’t all that solid at the moment.
“Love? Baby, you there?” You heard Steve, breaking you from your trance.
“Huh, what?” You looked up with a soft smile as you glanced at his face. He smiled back.
“You zoned out there for a sec,” You nodded as he came to sit next to you again. He examined your face for a moment, seeing right through you as if your walls were made of glass. “Baby, I need you to talk to me.” He said softly, with a slight tinge of worry in his voice. You sighed, looking down to your hands and then back up at him.
“I’m just-” You tried to contemplate which words would accurately fit how you were feeling, “I’m conflicted.” You admitted to which he gave an inquisitive look.
“How so?” He asked.
“I want to- I need to be there for Stella,” You began, “But I also haven’t had time or space to process this myself. and maybe that’s selfish, I’m sure it is. But it’s all just so much-”
“It’s not selfish,” Steve insisted plainly, “Not at all. Stella’s been through a lot today, but so have you. And if you need all the time and space in the world to figure this out, I’ll figure out a way to give it to you.” He offered a kind smile. “I can be there for both you and Stella. That’s my duty.”
“But it shouldn’t be.”
“But it is,” he continued, “Because you willingly chose to immerse yourself in my lifestyle, which was enough to ask for, and Stella didn’t have a say.”
“But still I’m her mom and-”
“And you’ve both been through a lot and you both need time.” He gave you a peck on the cheek, “I love you, and you deserve all the time that you need.”
It took a few days for Stella to come back and begin to interact with you guys again. You had brought food to her room, some candy and ice cream too, everything and anything she needed. Steve had called her off school after yelling at the principal and using the excuse, “I pay enough for that damn school the least you can do is give my kid a few days off” which seemed to work.
It was minimal interaction at first. Initially, she was just grabbing some water. Then it turned to snacks, then to a very small conversation, then to her finally spending some time with you guys.
It wasn’t until you had all sat down for a family dinner that she had begun to open up, just a bit though. It was primarily you and Steve attempting to talk about things of interest that related to her: politics, books, anything you could. She remained silent, in her own mind and world. You weren’t sure what she was thinking, but you didn’t want to push or interrupt her either.
“Dad?” She finally spoke up, her voice reaching just above a whisper. Both of your heads shot up to where she sat, next to Steve and across from you.
“Yes, sweetie?” He asked, putting his full attention on her.
“I- um,” She began contemplating what she was going to say, looking down at her food which she has slowly been eating, “I need to tell you something, now, but you have to promise me that even if you get mad, you won’t yell or anything.”
“Of course not,” He grabbed her free hand and held it on the table, “I promise.”
“Okay.” She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a few brief moments before looking back up to him, “I don’t think I can take over all of this.” She admitted, clearly awaiting a response with little breath.
“All of what?” Steve asked.
“Your position.” She clarified.
Naturally, she was next in line to be the mob boss. Sure she was a girl, Steve didn’t care though. He had been preparing her for most of her life. But you knew from the moment she pulled that trigger that that was it. She would never be able to be in the mob.
Steve stared for a few seconds, looking down and giving off a quiet sigh before clearing his throat. “That’s fine.” He lightly smiled, still holding her hand. She gave a confused look.
“A-are you sure? You have to be mad-”
“No, no I’m not. I get it.” He admitted, “And don’t worry. We’ll find someone to take over. We can’t forget Will, Uncle Buck’s son, he could take over too.” She nodded lightly.
“Thanks, dad.” She looked up at him with a tight smile, to which he smiled back.
“Darling, I hope you realize that your mother and I didn’t just have you to take over the business,” He clarified, “You’re our daughter, and that’s your first and only role to us.” You nodded too, silently agreeing with what he was saying.
“Thanks, Dad,” She softly smiled, “I love you guys.”
“We love you too.” You smiled, grabbing her other hand, before looking to Steve raising one of your eyebrows. He gave you a confused look, pondering over what you were trying to communicate, before finally getting it.
“Oh,” He sighed, with a soft smile, turning his attention back to Stella. “Your mother and I thought it might be best to take some time off, with you, of course, so we scheduled a three-week trip to stay down in Palm Beach, at the house there.” He smiled at her, to which she smiled back.
“Wait, but what about school?” She asked. Steve rolled his eyes.
“I dealt with it don’t worry.” He began, as you got up to begin taking plates to the dishwasher, “fuck school anyways.” Stella began laughing as water flew out of her mouth, to which she covered her mouth with her hand in shock, and Steve began laughing too.
“Hey!” You scolded him, “We should not be preaching that to our daughter. Or any kid for that matter.” He rolled his eyes.
“I’m also allowing you to take three friends. No boys though, and their absence will be dealt with too.”
“Thanks, again, dad.” She smiled, genuinely, for the first time in weeks.
#Steve Rogers#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers fan fiction#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x you#mafia!steve rogers#marvel#mafia!steve rogers x reader#mafia!steve rogers x y/n#mafia!steve rogers x you#Mob!Steve Rogers#mob!steve rogers x reader#marvel fanfiction#Chris Evans#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans x reader
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Two-timed pt.2 - Yandere!Bakugo Katsuki x fem!reader x yandere!Izuku Midoriya
@thirsthourdemon, day 15 of @yandere-sins‘ Yantober prompt list has arrived!! This is part two, so if you haven’t read part one yet, please make sure to read it! I’m not sure if this entirely fits the prompt, but I still hope you enjoy what I wrote for prompt 15: tears
Warnings: kidnapping, swearing, drugging,
Word count: 1398
After (Y/N) had told Deku everything and wasn’t crying anymore, she downed the remaining fruit juice he had given her. She put the glass down on the coffee table in front of them and sighed, slightly sinking in to the couch. Turning herself to face Deku, she said: “Sorry, for barging in like this and taking up your time.” When she saw Deku opening his mouth to protest, she sat straight quickly added: “Or well, I should say thank you. Thank you for spending time with me and listening to me. You really are a good friend, Deku.”
Even though the word ‘friend’ and (Y/N)’s innocent smile following that dreadful word made Deku’s heart ache a little, he responded with a kind smile himself. “No problem! I’m happy to help you.”
“Well! Let’s lighten up the mood a little,” (Y/N) said a bit too loudly, obviously trying to appear more okay than she actually was, “Do you have time to watch a movie or something?”
Before Deku could respond, (Y/N) already reached forward to grab the remote that was resting on the coffee table, only to feel her head getting light. Her hand instinctively clutched her forehead and she groaned lightly.
She felt Deku’s hand on her back. “Hey, are you okay?”
(Y/N) tried to give an assuring smile. “Yeah, I probably moved too quickly or something.”
She reached again, but she discovered her arm was suddenly very heavy. Her head and torso, too, were too heavy to keep up straight. Unable to carry her own weight anymore, she slowly started leaning forward, threatening to fell off the couch.
Just in time, Deku’s arms caught her before her head would bang against the table. He carefully laid her sideways on the couch, lifting her legs on the furniture as well. “It’s okay, don’t fight it. Give in, go to sleep.”
(Y/N)’s eyes turned wide and turned to look at the empty glass that had contained the juice.
With a light chuckle, Deku said: “Yep, you figured it out! I’m glad you only realised it now, otherwise this would’ve been so much harder.”
She tried her best to talk to him, to swear at him, but her tongue felt like a slab of dead meat with the weight of a brick. Talking was impossible.
Feelings of dread filled her when she felt her feet and fingers go numb and her eyelids grow heavier by the second. With silent pleads and tears in her eyes, she looked at Deku as if to beg him not to do what he was about to do, whatever that might be.
Deku saw her fear and crouched down next to her head. His fingers brushed through her hair, before caressing the side of her cheek. Black spots were already dancing in front of (Y/N)’s eyes when he spoke: “Don’t worry! I’m here, I’d never do anything to hurt you. I’m just going to keep you safe.”
Unable to fight the incoming darkness any longer, (Y/N) allowed her eyelids to close. Just before she lost consciousness, Deku’s voice rang through her head: “It’s all going to be alright.”
--
Deku stayed by her side even after she had lost consciousness. He was staring at her peaceful sleeping form, her tranquil face, her soft plump lips. Already finding himself leaning in closer to her face, he muttered to himself: “Just a little kiss wouldn’t hurt, right?”
He instantly shot up straight when he heard the bang of his door being thrown open. When he whipped his head towards the sound, he discovered that Bakugo was standing in his doorway, breathing heavily like a bull about to attack. His face was filled with thunderous anger.
With loud steps and clenched, he approached Deku, who now stood up. Bakugo glared at Deku, grinding his teeth together. Then he glanced at (Y/N). She was still asleep, her hands laid to rest on her stomach.
Suddenly, he grabbed a fistful of Deku’s shirt, pulling him intimidatingly close. Through his teeth, he growled at Deku: “Did you do anything to her?”
Deku innocently stuck his hands in the air. “Of course not! That was the deal, wasn’t it?”
Bakugo peered into his eyes for a second, trying to find a shred of a lie. When he saw none, he dropped his hold on Deku and looked at (Y/N) again. The hint of a smile formed on his face. Then, unable to contain his joy, a wide grin broke out. “So that means the plan worked? I acted well enough?”
Deku’s grin was almost as wide as Bakugo’s. “You sure did.”
--
(Y/N) woke up feeling like she’d been run over by twenty trucks. To make it worse, she was hit by a splitting headache. She groaned and tried to roll on her side to be more comfortable, but her arm was stopped by something. She tugged on her arm a bit harder, only to find that it wouldn’t budge again.
What the hell?
Groggily, she tried to open her eyes and see what was going on. Her eyes went from squinted to wide open when she saw she was tied to the headboard of a bed. Panic started to settle in her stomach as she tried to use her other arm to get rid of the rope, but that one was tied up too. Her feet as well were stuck to the frame of the bed. A whine left her lips, her heart beating faster and her breath turning more shallow.
Her mind was so hazed over by the remaining drugs in her system and the panic that she had failed to notice the two men sitting by the foot of the bed. It was only when Deku called out to her that she realised they were there.
“Hey sleepyhead! You’ve been sleeping for so long, you made us really worried, you know?”
“Because someone got too excited with his stupid little drugs,” Bakugo muttered under his breath.
Deku turned to him and whisper-shouted at him: “What did we say about arguing in front of (Y/N)?”
The memories of what had happened suddenly came back; the fight she had with Bakugo, the drugs Deku gave her. The betrayal and hurt she had experienced by both of them. It made her struggle more against her restraints, although the harsh ropes were starting to tear at her skin.
Without her noticing, Deku had slithered next to her and laid his hand on her roped down wrist. She yelped at his touch, even though it was soft.
“You shouldn’t struggle so much, you’ll only hurt yourself, sweetie.”
Sweetie? What?
Deku smiled bashfully and averted his eyes as he sputtered: “I’ve actually got something to confess to you. The thing is, I’ve liked you as long as I can remember. Well, not like, more like like like. No, that’s not the word.” He found the courage to look her in the eye. “I love you. Yes, that’s it. I love you, I love you so much it hurts.”
His hand grabbed (Y/N)’s and gave it a loving squeeze. “I need to see you every day. I want to hold you, take care of you, everything a good boyfriend should do. So, I brought you here.”
Bakugo loudly scraped his throat. Remaining seated on the cheap chair, he spat: “Excuse you, fucker. As if you’re the only one who brought her here. She’s mine, too, you know? Stop acting like you made all of this happen. I’m responsible too, I played the biggest part here. Don’t forget that I’m the one she entered a relationship with, in the first place.”
With an arrogant smile, he cocked his head to the side. Deku was taken aback, but he quickly recovered. “So there it is, (Y/N). We’ll keep you here, and take care of you like good boyfriends should!”
(Y/N) couldn’t bear to see Deku’s lovesick eyes that were dripping with toxic affection. How did she not realise this sick side of her own best friend? How did she not see how his perception of reality became twisted beyond repair?
Her gaze shifted over to Bakugo, who was leaning back in his chair with his hands behind his back. The cocky grin was still on his face, like he had managed caught an evasive animal after hunting it for years. Proudly, he exclaimed: “Welcome to your new home!”
#yandere#yandere imagines#yandere imagines bnha#yandere bnha#yandere x reader#yandere x y/n#yandere x you#yandere bnha x reader#yandere izuku#yandere deku#yandere izuku midoriya#yandere midoriya#yandere izuku x reader#yandere midoriya x reader#yandere bakugo#yandere bakugo x reader#yandere katsuki#yandere katsuki bakugo#yandere bakugo katsuki#yandere bakugo katstuki x reader#yandere izuku x reader x yandere bakugo
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Hello I really like your hybrid au especially with kirishima
I was wondering if I can request one with kirishima hybrid where reader gets kidnapped because someone from the old ring wants revenge and kirishima is looking for them
Wow, I took some time with this because it was hard to place Kiri in such a situation. I hope I gave it justice. This is not my usual fluff since it's a darker theme, so yeah. Hope it was worth the wait though! Enjoy and tell me if you liked it!! 💕💕
Word count: 4k [ I... I got carried away... and I still feel it's short 💀 ]
Warnings: kidnapping, blood, mentions of abuse, guns, Kiri's past being f'd up, insults [?], hint towards assault;
[ Masterlist ] [ Main Hybrid!Kirishima HCs ]
× this man is all about safety
× asks you to send him a message whenever you arrive safely at home or wherever you're going
× it's super-sweet and really helpful; your well being is everything to him after all
× yet one evening you didn't arrive on time
× no message, nothing
× he was waiting and paying attention to time since he wanted to suggest going out to watch a movie, but you didn't arrive
× one hour later he finds himself frowning at the clock, tapping his foot in wonder
× he sent you a message; the fact that it send but you didn't receive it unsettled him more, to which he decided to call— "The phone you're trying to reach is disconnected or no longer in service."
× did you run out of battery? was that even possible?
× what seals the deal is a DM he receives from a throwaway account on social media he was so active and known on.
× "We've got your little toy. You know where to find us, Red Riot. Come alone or they die." and attached was a pictute of you, on the floor, possibly unconscious, hands tied behind your back.
× a collar was placed by your side; he knew what it was.
× his blood ran cold, a freezing shiver electrified through his spine as he jumped out of the couch, terrorized and more importantly raging mad
× Red Riot: a name he tried to forget; a name people shouted at him in praise as they put bets on his head; a name he's been given as he fought friends and foes; a name that brought back pain and suffering. A name he didn't want to taint his new life with.
× he did not take any time to leave the house in a hurry, his eyes burning with unshed tears.
× Kirishima didn't know where his friends were, so he found himself on his own, outside your apartment complex, taking a deep breath in; he could find you; he had to find you even if it was the last thing he did, yet he had to do it alone.
× he spotted your car in the parking lot— in a blink he was by it's side, just spotting your belongings inside and the car-keys still in
× uncontrollable rage took over him as he still sniffed your scent in the air.
× you've been here and because of him, now you weren't; you're gone; you've been attacked too, the window smashed and blood running down the door
× he sniffed again, noticing how it wasn't your blood— relief didn't come since he did recognize the other scent; his dealer.
× "You fucking mutt!" he growled above the red-haired man chained to the wall, fist closed readied to make impact.
× Kirishima growled lowly, remembering.
× "You fucking made me lose ten fucking grands because you didn't want to finish that fucking beast!" his screams could be heard throughout the hallways.
× He got inside the car.
× "You and your fucking group, you think you're too good to fucking follow MY ORDERS—" a crack could be heard as the punch collided with the hybrid's jaw, yet it did little to no damage to him. Curses followed, making the man almost chuckle, yet chose not to, knowing the damage it would bring. "YOU PATHETIC PIECE OF— I FUCKING BROKE MY HAND, SHIT!" he yanked him by the hair with his other hand, pulling hard. "I'm gonna make you regret the day you were born." And if it weren't for his improvised family, Kirishima would've been regretting that day anyway without his assistance.
× He sped off, fingers whitening on the steering wheel because of his harsh grip. Tears now ran freely on his cheeks with no conscious attempt made to be stopped.
× Only two places haven't been raided by the Hybrid Protection Services came to mind, deemed as abandoned yet for those that knew the insides, the buildings were definitely used mostly as hideouts and for special occasions
× few escaped from being detained by the police, yet word came to him that the bastard, Mawler as he liked to call himself, was caught; it didn't seem to be the case and as he drove, Kirishima could only think he'd make the fucker regret the day he was born; a bitter laugh left his lips, hating himself for a moment. Although the image of a friend came in his mind, imagining him slapping his back in a poor attempt to motivate him. That's what he would say too.
× the self-hatred washed off; for you he'd do anything.
× he rushed to the first location; it used to be a club with an underground arena, in which he himself fought in countless times
× his neck itched as he gritted his teeth; the memory of the electric collar they had to have on while almost killing each other made him want to vomit
× a deep growl left his frame; gutural, dark, menacing; they wanted the Red Riot? it seems they forgot where he really got that name from;
× he only saw blood on the way there.
× he parked not too far but tried to keep a low profile although his big frame didn't help in a stealth situation. Kirishima knew he's in for trouble, but what else could he do?
× —
× you blinked, blinded by the light that shined harshly in your face
× "Would you look at that, fellas? Guess who's wakin' up?" you had no time to panic, just flashes of the quick encounter just by your house appearing in your mind as a boot collided with your stomach, making you wince in pain
× What was going on? What the hell happened?
× "Aww, don't make that face..." someone mocked. "Save it for when Red Riot comes along, baby." he whispered harshly at you, venom in his voice.
× you muttered "—Riot?" in daze, placing your knees as close to your chest for protection; your head hurt badly, a throbbing pain coming from the back of it.
× laughed echoed around you; "He didn't fucking tell you? How much of a fucking BEAST he was?!"; other voices joined in... two more voices, but you couldn't be sure
× memories came back at you; how you were arriving late but decided to not send any message since you were driving; parking, gathering your stuff, the sound of crystal breaking—
× but nothing else;
× "You don't fucking know what your piece of shit of a mutt even did before acting like a perfect little boyfriend, didn't ya?" the same venom filled voice came closer to you, giving you the chance to finally see his ugly scowl and to imprint his stupidly face in your mind;
× were they talking about Kirishima? Your Kirishima? He never really got into detail about his previous life yet made it clear he was forced to fight for the entertainment of others— did they fucking think he had a choice?
× yet you remained silent; it seems Kiri knew you'd be there and your concussion didn't really help you to think straight and form any plan;
× something could be heard outside, a crash of some sort and everyone stood still for a good second.
× "He—... He's here already?" one of them whispered. A clicking made you freeze. You snapped your head up in terror, only knowing that sound from movies, a sound so scary you really didn't think you'd hear it in real life; guns.
× "I fucking send that message 20 minutes ago..." Ugly Scowl said, taken back in surprise. His eyes, dark and void of goodness snapped on you, an unsure smile painting over him. "I wanted to have some fun with ya."
× your body couldn't control the shiver that ran through it, from head to toes, and he noticed, turning his uncertain smile into a sadistic one; your face was probably a dead giveaway too.
× but Eijirou was there and deep down you knew there was nothing to fear; except for the guns.
× the red-head wasn't dumb, he knew this world a million times better than you, so he must've known; with a flood of nervousness piling up in your stomach, you blinked the stinging feeling in your eyes away and hoped for the best.
× "Go check that fucking sound, retards!" he then screamed, two sets of footsteps rushing at his orders; it seemed he was the "boss" of whatever the hell this small group of pieces of shit was and hated your boyfriend's guts.
× should you talk? should you not? what's the best possible outcome out of this?
× your wrists stung, locked harshly with what felt like a rope; in a poor attempt to move your fingers to feel if you could, in an ideal world, free your hands, the man caught your movements instantly; he yanked you by the neck, lifting you off the ground with no difficulty and that's when you noticed he was strong, muscular, big; his frame wasn't as massive as Eijirou's by any chance but massive enough to make you reconsider any attempt to escape. "Don't even fucking think about it, dear."
× his breath, foul and heavy, hit your face and you almost gagged; he was watching you, observing your face in search of something. Through a nod he hummed at himself.
× "Not bad, Riot." his nose hit your cheek as he breathed you in and a whimper left you, guts screaming danger; he snickered. "It's okay, I like them when they cry." he mocked your tears in a heavy whisper, which you didn't notice until he pointed them out.
× a snap could be heard from inside the building, possibly on the floor above; were you underground?
× the disgusting man by your side lifted himself up, throwing you on the floor like garbage. He lifted his gun and narrowed his eyes towards the stairs.
× "Be good and maybe I'll keep you for myself after I hunt your mutt down." he said between gritted teeth. You just started praying for the man you loved, still trying to figure out a way to at least hide before this scum used you as a threat more than he did already.
× —
× Kirishima watched them from the shadows; his breath was heavy yet silent, his enhanced vision saw the two low-life mobs he sometimes noticed following Mawler whenever he went; he took in consideration their stance; of course they'd bring weapons—
× his mind drifted to one of his trainers, EraserHead, and on the few moments of aloofness he let himself have around the younger ones put in his charge; "Humans are easily fooled—" he'd grin lazily. "And very easy to scare."
× with determination like he's never had before, he grabbed a rock; if he had to reach you, he'd have to do the only thing he was never good at: being stealthy.
× he rushed to the left of the back entrance, hidden behind a beaten up car as he threw the small rock in the opposite direction and in any other situation he'd find himself amused, EraserHead's words on replay in his mind. One of the guys almost jumped in place at the sound, gun fastly jerked into its general direction with trembling hands.
× with no second to spare, he entered the building, his speed impressive—
× no sound was made, but what helped him greatly was that one of them started talking into the nothingness; "We know you're there, you bastard!"
× the other one was now searching inside the building, yet his head turned towards his companion outside; sadly for the poor idiot, it only took a punch in the jaw to immobilize him and knock him out entirely. He took the guns from the now unconscious body and put them in his belt and pocket, yet had no intention to use any.
× the second one left outside was still talking a whole monologue, making the man sweat drop; was this Mawler's plan? he wasn't known to use his brain much...
× yet he wasn't as easy to take down as Kirishima wanted it to be; he turned around, probably uneased by the lack of response of his partner, suspicious and more on the edge; he could feel it, his nervousness, his fear; another bitter grin appeared on Eijirou's features.
× "Jackal?" his voice hid fear behind it.
× they definitely knew the damage he could do and the hybrid was glad they did, wanting them to be terrified, his predator instincts washing over.
× he jumped on him, kicking the pistol out of his hands in a heartbeat and making him stumble backwards, losing his balance; it happened in a blurr, old feeling of being in the ring, fist to fist, tail low and ready to pounce. He was in his element once again and God, he hated himself when he let go of all the pain and broke his arm, the sweet image of your smiling face as you burried yourself into the same arms he hurt people with always in the back of his mind.
× before he could realize, the other woke up from the knockout; he heard rushed steps towards him and a snapping sound. The blabbering idiot was on the ground now, breathing but beaten to a pulp and everything stood still for a good second.
× he got hit? in the back of his head? With just one glance he saw a broken wooden plank and blinked stupidly; did he seriously think—?
× Kirishima grinned and in an instant he grabbed Jackal's head and smashed it into his knee.
× —
× you could hear his steps; you knew it was him; heavy yet trying to conceal them poorly; your man was walking around the floor above and you sniffled your nose at the thought.
× he was absolutely massive and nothing about him was silent; gentle, yes, but silent? laughable. Even in this horrendous situation you closed your eyes lovingly at the thought. He's here.
× "Those damned fucking useless pieces of shit—" Oh, yeah. Him.
× the barrel was suddently pointed at your head and any thoughts you had abandoned your brain completely
× utter terror overwashed your senses in every way as you stared at it with wide eyes
× "Let's see if he fucking likes this—"
× —
× the only way down for the public was the stairway; not even those useless guards knew the hidden entrance his friends and him used once; they had to come back though, the guilt and knowledge that if they're found to be gone would make Mawler execute everyone else.
× a low window painted black that led to a storage room behind the filthy bathrooms and the place they'd be kept in cages; he ran on the first floor, approaching the stairs before jumping on the dusty metal bar, now completely silent and praying his poor attempt at a bait worked.
× in no time he was outside again and in even less of a second he found himself by said window leading to the underground arena.
× —
× "Maybe if I hurt you a little bit, he'll come to his senses." He grinned, gun's safety lever clicked, now pointed at your stomach.
× you saw your vision blurr and you really, really wanted to say something but didn't know what to; your lips trembled and you bit them in the hopes of showing at least some courage before getting shot but you couldn't help closing your eyes.
× the sound was so loud; an obnoxiously loud bang shook the room or maybe just shook you to the core, then warmth engulfed you wholly.
× it gripped into you so strongly yet no damage came; "I got you, baby." came as a whisper in your ear and just as you snapped your eyes to see his red, sweet, gorgeous red eyes look at you tenderly, he was gone.
× nothing was said; just a rush of screams and silence; your kidnapper tried to shoot again or so you saw but he was jumped on instantly; that's when you noticed Eijirou was growling like a wild animal and was covered with blood.
× he was like a hurricane, like a bulldozer, like an unstoppable force that destroyed with no mercy; covered in red and splatters due to his constant attacks just painted him with more of it;
× you were looking at Red Riot and your stomach dropped; this is what he was made to be and you cried when he did not stop beating the man underneath him.
× "Baby, stop—" you'd whisper, really trying to get up and barely making it to stay in a seating position, kinda desperate; and he indeed stopped at your plea, froze actually.
× the poor devil under him was groaning, gargling whatevers but it didn't matter; he was looking at you, shocked and you could see the fear in his eyes...
× was it bad that it didn't matter to you? as long as he didn't kill them, as long as justice got to them and furthermore kept Kirishima by your side forever, it didn't matter to you; it was instant, that thought.
× but as he stood there frozen, taking in your nerves and sudden relief, your crying face filled with worry; you took him in too... how his back was getting soaked in blood, running through his shirt down, and down, leaking...
× he got shot for you;
× "Please, leave him, help me and—" he turned a little, ashamed yet mute.
× like a scolded child, unsure; he was bleeding but he was scared of you; he had a hole in his back but he was hurting for your reaction.
× you sniffled again, getting on your knees, pain striking in your stomach but ignoring it; "Eijirou, come to me, please."
× and he did, all so gracefully, so fast and without a single wince; as if he knew pain more than he should've.
× your hands were instantly freed
× his silence killed you inside, it really did. This man, this amazing creature that beamed like the brightest star in the sky was now somber, dull...
× your phone was thrown on the floor as they tampered with it and you rushed, with trembling hands and uncertainty at his attitude to call the police; he was still to say anything, just staying on his knees in front of you, head low and teary eyes.
× he just muttered the location when they asked you about it but that's it; the operator asked questions yet you didn't care to answer them, just saying you need an ambulance too before closing the call to crawl towards him, taking his torso into your arms careful not to touch the wound on his back.
× he then cried harder into your neck, almost falling into your embrace, accepting it but his hands didn't move to touch you, laying unmoving on his sides.
× "I'm so—" he hiccuped. "I'm so sorry, [Y/N]." His frame was shaking more and more;
× "I love you, Eijirou." It's all you could say. Really, your brain just screamed for you to tell him that, as if you felt it's what he needed to hear the most.
× guilty; blaming himself; putting himself down;
× he shuddered into you as your hands, tired and sore, reached for his sweat soaked hair to stroke it gently.
× "You came for me. You saved me. Thank yo—"
× "Don't! It's all my fault—" his voice broke for a second, hands turning into fists and the only thing grounding him was your scent invading his nostrils. "You're hurt because of me..."
�� you cried with him too, gluing his head more into you, peppering his face with shaky butterfly kisses.
× "It's not your fault, it was never your fault, Eijirou." you shook in place as you reassured him. Word by word, sentence by sentence, you let him know he's just as much of a victim being chased by his past, a past he was forced to have; he came for you, he rushed to save you, he took a bullet for you and yet again, he acted like it was nothing, as if the pain of putting you in danger was greater than any damage he could take.
× his hands encircled you and for the first time since you saw him after waking up to this nightmare, he winced in pain but did not let you go. Instead, he pressed your body into his, fearing you'd dissapear.
× you asked him if you should cover the wound, not really knowing what to do for now; you'd have time to talk, you'd have time to reassure him again and again and again, but now you had to make sure he was fine.
× he shook his head, feeling his nose tickle your neck in the process; "Leave it, I've taken worse." And with that statement you cried harder.
× the police sirens could be heard in the distance, accompanied by the ambulance one...
× —
× so much time passed; so many hours without sleep; police station, explanations, Kirishima almost getting arrested in the spot and being incarcerated, hospital, lawyers, more questioning...
× everything was explained, everything kinda settled for the never-ending day, knowing it wouldn't be the last time you'd have to visit said police station, already sure you'd follow Kirishima there without hesitancy to make sure he's treated correctly, but for now... home.
× the bullet didn't reach any vital organ even if he was hit square in the back and for a normal human it would've meant a hit in one of the lungs, but not for a hybrid—
× still, it didn't hurt less to see him in that state;
× your car was sealed and taken away as evidence, so a taxi home was your only way there.
× hands locked and much, so much to talk about ahead of you but one thing sure
× "I love you." You squeezed his hand, catching his attention, loving how his lips curled in a small smile, not as bright as usual, but still, his smile.
× "I love you more." Was his usual response yet this time it was shy, not looking into your eyes but somewhere behind you, out the window. You frowned and shook his hand to catch the attention fully.
× "No. You don't seem to get it." You led his big, strong, scarred hand to your lips, kissing the back of it softly. "I love you, Kirishima Eijirou. So much."
× the car ride was silent as he took in your words and you couldn't help but enjoy the way his eyes widened, now having his full attention as his cheeks reddened slightly, knowing he's been caught putting himself down.
× he let out a breathless chuckle, so small but with it his shoulders fell in relief. He nodded, watching his hand holding yours and gulped, your words repeating in a loop in his mind.
× Eijirou was so easy to read, so transparent and honest and it warmed heart to ser him accept your words, words you've said countless times before this incident and without a doubt in the future until they engraved permanently in his heart.
× he chuckled again at your expression, catching your gaze and holding it until a smile broke on his face, this time big and warm, just like him. The smile you wanted to see all along.
× he cried again through it, passing his free palm over his eyes for a second; "You're my everything, [Y/N]." he'd pull you into his chest, inhaling your scent. "I love you." he squeezed you close.
#kirishima eijirou x reader#kirishima x reader#hybrid!kirishima#hybrid!au#noire writes#kirishima headcanons
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A Cure for Insomnia Ch.3
WARNING DECEPTIONS OF A PANIC ATTACK
I understand seeing others go through this can sometimes cause panic or anxiety attacks in some and with the use of some imagery I've used I'd feel better if I gave a fair warning that there is a detailed panic attack early on.
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Whoever said eight hours of sleep was the right amount for humans has never met an insomniac who just spent the last six days and five nights awake. You hoped that fucker is in hell burning for his sins, he probably has more of them that you don't know of. But with bleary eyes looking at your phone you can barely make out that it's just a little past six in the morning. This is backed up by the slimmers of light shinning through the blanket you put over the window last night. Briefly the thought of keeping it up today passes through your mind as you try to curl into an even tighter blanket cocoon.
Stretching out your legs and toes you let your muscles melt into mush in the warmth and comfort of your bed. Closing your eyes and burying your head back into the pillow, you might not be able to go to sleep but resting is nice too. You're so relaxed it almost feels as if all your limbs are floating and you feel the buzz of energy come surging back through you, you hum along with it nuzzling into the pillows.
'Your car was broken into.' the thought flashes through your mind and has you jolting up right.
Chest heaving slightly as frantic eyes dance along the room that hasn't changed since the night before. The buzzing energy from just a few moments before turns into an icy feeling flowing in your veins. It chills you to your core and you've noticed the tremors in your arms causing you to tremble. There's a sick feeling that bubbles up your throat, as you feel the phantoms of tens of hands grabbing at your arms and torso. They move erratically all over and their grips are suffocating, there's a lump in your throat that you have trouble swallowing down.
Bringing a hand up to your throat you jab your thumb right above or right at where your larynx would be. The slight pain from the pressure helps ease the lump away and you're able to get out a few frantic breaths. You hardly notice the wetness on your face from the few tears slipping free from your eyes.
'Gross, gross, gross, gross.' is the only message that rings clear in your mind as you're assaulted by these phantom hands.
You're aware this is a panic attack, but it does little to calm you down. Putting more pressure on your throat and using your feet to propel you back into the mattress. Vaguely you're aware that tiring your body out should calm you or maybe it's the release of an emotional fit that calms you, you aren't sure which and you don't really care at the moment. So flailing your legs you let your feet forcefully slip off of their purchase as you push your muscles to their full extent with force. It doesn't take long before you can't feel your limbs and are gasping for breath.
The phantoms are gone, no longer touching you as they please, and while the lump still sits at the bottom of your throat making it hurt to swallow and breathe around you can begin to feel calm. Actually it's the numbness that takes over you, not a sense of calm. The sense of an empty shell broken from its exertion. One thing's for sure you can't take your car today. If you had a panic attack just by thinking of your car you don't want to risk actually getting behind the wheel.
Everything feels tense, the muscles in your legs are starting to ache and you're pretty sure you'll have a bruise at the base of your throat. You check your phone with shaky hands to see it's now seven twelve. If you get up now and leave you think you can probably make it into town by eight forty giving you time to grab something from the Dunkin' on the corner across from the shop. Or you could call out, Nate would totally understand. But just the thought of being alone today sends a chill down your spine and the feeling of those phantom hands start creeping their way back into your personal space.
“I'm going to work!” jumping up and out of the bed, away from the grubby grabby specters.
Running around the room you throw on a pair of black shorts, unusual for you to wear at work but if you're walking you'll have to deal, sweaty jeans are uncomfortable and joggers aren't very cohesive to a work environment. Deciding on a binder made from a breathable swimsuit material for the same reason, sweaty bra is too uncomfortable and bra-less isn't really something you're comfortable with. Grabbing the first shirt you find, it's a black tee with the words “The only man for me is Mothman” printed on it surrounded by little white stars and a chibi lil mothamn.
Looking at your outfit altogether cheers you up. It's casual but cute, not to mention these shorts do a lot for your thighs and butt. But, there's no time to dwell on how handsome you are, you need to grab food and get out the door like ten minutes ago! Grabbing a mask printed with the word 'No' dead center and your headphones you leave your room. With the thought of grabbing Dunkin' before work you settle on a Pedialyte Pop to hold you over during your walk, nausea shouldn't hit you right away anyway. Checking your door was locked, thrice, you started your trek to town.
Most people would complain about having to walk or hike while wearing a mask, often times saying it was hard to breathe under the fabric. But you'd say they just didn't have the right size mask for their face shape. You'd run into a few masks that hadn't been the right shape or size throughout the years but you're thankful that your first three had been perfect. Had they been too big or small you probably wouldn't have fallen in love with wearing masks, they were so comfy and let you interact with people without your voice getting stuck in your throat.
You'd taken to wearing them after high school when you'd taken a job of watching an elderly hospice patient's corgi while her family worked on moving to Virginia and closer to her. Anytime you and little Russel went to visit her you'd had to wear a mask, so instead of wearing the disposables you'd bought a set of three reusable ones.
After noting the change in behavior she mentioned your Autism, she'd been a retired social worker and saw the signs when she met you and after spending nearly 40 hours a week together for half a year she was certain you somehow fell through the cracks. It was a shock to you when she threw out the off handed comment but after stating who your pediatrician was, she was sent into a fit of laughter.
“Anya is a dear and a great surgeon, but I think the cultural barrier has stopped her from diagnosing children for years.” she had said all the while wheezing through the oxygen mask, eyes crinkling in amusement.
She'd sat you down with a list of books to look into and written out all your symptoms, she said if you ever wanted to get tested having the list of symptoms would be more helpful than straight up asking for a diagnosis. Some doctors were too by the book back in the 40s so Autism has rarely been studied in depth. Only in the last decade or so has a movement gained momentum to spread not only a wider awareness of the disorder but also acceptance for it. But to a doctor it would seem like you were grasping for attention at least to anyone who spent less time with you than she had. But without at least six thousand dollars to spend on a piece of paper that confirms what you already know you'll just have to stick to coping by using methods you read about from forums and blogs made by people with Autism rather than their parents or someone who's “very close” to them. And like Mary Anne said before she died, “just because you don't have a diagnosis doesn't mean your symptoms aren't there.”. A statment that reassures you from time to time, when you think you must be faking it for attention. And that somehow you managed to fake tics your whole life.
Snapping out of your memories because you could hardly tell your mask was on, and has been for the past forty minutes or so since you'd finished your pop. It wasn't too hot at the moment and like the previous day Kepler's climate has no humidity whatsoever, a huge change from the coast. Checking the time again on your phone you see the clear white numbers stating boldly that it is eight o' nine. You don't feel any closer to town but figure that's normal when all you've seen is the old over grown road. You feel you should have seen the road leading to town by now, you hope you see it soon or else you'd really over estimated how long it would take to get to town, then you'd be hella late and sweaty. With the way you still had signal to the spotify you doubt you've even made it far enough to reach the dead zone.
Sighing you look down as you walk hoping to maybe find a rock to kick, walking's really boring when there's nothing to explore and you're on a time crunch. A loud honk takes you out of your head and you startle looking up. Doesn't take more than a second before you see a car stopped in the middle of the road in front of you. It's well taken care of for sure but not necessarily new or anything, you don't know too much about cars other than it looks like a black Camry no wait that's the Hyundai symbol. Some type of sedan then.
The back window on your side of the car rolls down and a man leans out and calls to you, you don't hear him at first. Slipping your headphones down to hang around your neck he repeats himself, “Do ya need a ride?” He has a southern accent on the thicker side, not abnormal for West Virginia but you can tell it's not the same dialect, probably from further down. The man has blonde hair styled in that fluffy swooped faux hawk that a lot of gamers had back in 2017/2018. He's got slight thin stubble along his jaw, not quiet five o'clock shadow so he probably has trouble growing facial hair. His eyes are that hazel color everyone wishes they could have, the kinda that had the orangish yellow glow about them. He looks like a fuck boy.
You're nearly ready to point at your mask in an indication of 'no I don't know you creep' when you catch sight of the driver. A boy around your age maybe who looks apathetic, that's not what catches your eye everyone looses the will to live at some point. What draws your attention is the mask he's wearing on his face. He could potentially be like you, or maybe he's just sick and being considerate, or he could have allergies. Whatever the case may be you can't honestly be considering getting into a car with two random men just because one wears a face mask. Hell for all you know they've orchestrated this situation, they could've been watching you analyzing your every move to know that breaking into your car would send you into a state of panic where you wouldn't use your car the next day or two, then you'd be out in the open to kidnap on your walk to town where you couldn't call for help due to being in the dead zone. Why else would they be this far along the old dirt road?
“Ah...miss?” the southern drawl brings you out of your inner ramblings, and the words cause you to bristle.
“I'm not a woman.” you say calmly but firmly.
“Oh, ah sorry sir.” you can't help but huff a laugh at the quick apology, your eyes catch movement through the window. Oh they have a dog with them, a rottweiler at that. Cool kidnappers with a dog, who's wearing a vest how...wait dog in vest oh he must be a service dog. Cool not kidnappers then, just strangers, nice. Seemingly trans allys, slight common ground with the driver, and a service dog it might be safe to engage...or at least humor these men.
“It's fine, I'm They/Them for the record.” You say approaching the car, you make your way to the man leaning out of the window, somehow the presence of a service dog puts you more at ease, especially when the dog only spares you a single glance before his attention's back on the driver, who's not even pretending to pay attention to the two of you. His leg is bouncing up and down, it's not rhythmic and no one's paying attention even as it shakes the car. Probably has ADHD, your dad does that all the time when he's at a stop light, it's a subconscious movement he even does it in waiting rooms or anywhere where he has to sit still really.
“Oh, well sorry 'bout that Mx.” the man in the window stresses the “Mx” but not in the typical fuck boy way, more like he was reinforcing it to himself. “We just saw you walkin' and wanted to see if ya' needed a ride anywhere.” he says.
“If you're going to town, I'd appreciate one, but I wouldn't want to be a bother.” his smile brightens at this but you notice it doesn't reach his eyes, probably just being polite.
“Sure thing, hop on in.” He moves to slide back but you've already opened the passenger door and slid into the seat. Effectively snapping the driver out of whatever haze he was in to look at you, he looks back at his friend with confusion.
“Hi” you say to the driver who gives his own wary 'hey' in response as you buckle yourself in. The driver looked even more apathetic up close, dark eye bags under his eyes that were such a deep brown you couldn't see his pupil he also had that fluffy brown e-boy hair. Not the frizzy hair marketing itself as fluffy but the type that's genuinely fluffy looking forming soft waves in his hair.
If they are kidnappers they're really bad at it, especially if all you have to do to stun them is sit up front in a seat that has the second most control in the car and can escape quicker if the need arises. However, glancing back at the dog you notice his attention's still on the driver, it would be really dumb if a kidnapper brought their service dog with them to do a kidnapping so you're reassured that it's just two southern boys driving through Kepler. And they happened to spot a “damsel” in distress, so they came to the rescue.
“Oh, don't mind Connor he won't bother you. He's here for Toby right now.” The man in the back says and you see the man beside you grip the steering wheel tighter. You nod in response and feel a tickle at the base of your skull, you'll try holding back the tic to not freak the two out.
Just as “Toby” is about to put the car in drive, a bark is heard from the back seat. A frustrated sigh leaves Toby as his hand leaves the gear shift, scowl clear even on his masked face. You guess Toby needs Connor to let him know when he's safe to drive, it's rude to ask about these things but you can't help but guess why that'd be the case.
Another bark leaves Connor right as your head snaps to the right moving back to place, then right, right, up, and right before cracking violently.
“There we go.” you verbalize.
Toby's looking at you in what you can only guess is shock, not the worst reaction you've had to your tics, meanwhile you notice Brian's looking to Connor who's looking directly at you now. Then his head whips around to Toby and he barks, like clockwork Toby's shoulders jerk forwards and his hands jolt up. Connor looks back at you and gives a bark, your head jerks three times cracking your neck two of those times. Connor's gaze is still on you and you know he'll be in an ongoing ping pong game between you and Toby if you keep triggering each other's tics the entire drive, if you'd even be able to get to that point.
“I'm fine, thank you.” you said looking at Connor while holding the sides of your head, trying to as your friend Emonie once said 'keep the bobble head away'.
Thankfully Connor must have had a training course similar to ones you've helped with because he looks away from you and focuses on Toby, who he gives several barks to. Following those barks Toby pops his knuckles and makes a 'mrrwo' sound, sort of imitating a cat, before his head jerks sharply into his knee that jerked up at the same time. You cringe at the sight knowing that must have hurt, hands still firmly pushing your head you see Connor settle down in the back, still on alert but laying down as if to say the muscle spasms have passed. You won't risk removing your hands, you still need a ride into town and this whole situation's put you behind to where you won't make it if you walk now.
“pfft...” you look back to the blonde and he looks ready to burst with laughter from what he just watched. Heat creeping up your face you turn and look away, sure the situation's funny but you don't know these two men and honestly you just feel so embarrassed right now. Especially with last night's incident at the mini mart still fresh in your memory.
“Will you fucking shut up!” Toby barks out, and the blonde tries harder to suppress his laughing fit. Toby glares at his friend before turning his attention back to the road, hand on the gear shift he waits for an alert before putting the car in drive and doing a U-turn back to town.
It's been a while since you've been a passenger in a car, you actually get to take the time to relax and enjoy the passing scenery as Toby drives. He's a surprisingly good driver, most guys his age are speed demons and always want to see how fast they can get away with driving. Toby on the other hand is abiding by the limit even on this open stretch of road with no other cars. But you guess it comes with the territory of needing a service dog to be able to drive, have to abide by the rules. The drive's quiet, you take it as a good thing that the men aren't trying to question or get to know you. If they were kidnappers or up to something nefarious surely they'd be trying to distract you right now with endless chatter to let your guard down. Especially if they'd been watching you and knew what a total chattering encyclopedia you could be when given the right topic. You're gazing out into the window seeing the sign of the town get closer finally when the thought hits you.
“So, your name's Toby, is it short for Tobias?” turning to look at the man, he spares a single side glance with his furrowed brows before responding with an uneasy 'Yea'.
“Cool, sorry if that was a weird question. Tobias is like the best name I've ever heard but I've only met three Tobiases, including you. Could I call you Tobias or do you prefer Toby?”
“I don't really care.” gotta love apathy.
“Cool, cool. Thanks for the ride Tobias!” you chirp out.
“Hey, forgetin' that I'm the one who offered the ride?” The man in the backseat speaks up.
“No, you just never gave me your name. You said Connor's” and ear twitch is all you get such a good boy, “and you said Tobias'. Never mentioned your own.”
“It's Brian, sugar.” you were correct, this man is a fuck boy.
“Yikes, that's gross.”that was a reflex and it was now Toby's turn to laugh at his friend. The man didn't even hide his snickers even had his shoulders bouncing up and down, you think you even caught a mumbled “I won't hesitate bitch”. Meanwhile Brian sat stunned, guess he was used to people finding his nicknames more endearing, meaning he probably meant nothing by it and it was probably the southern accent but it just made you think of the senior men who'd hit on you back before you moved out here.
“Yea don't call me 'sugar', anyway, I'm YN, it's nice to meet you three.” Toby just nods as his laughter dies down a clucking sound resonates from his throat, Brian however goes right back to his friendly persona with a 'good to meet ya.' Again it's slightly off, it doesn't feel like he's trying to be polite...it feels like...you can't put your finger on it but it's familiar. Like when you fake a conversation with Nate or your mother on the days where exhaustion is nearly killing you, but Brian doesn't seem tired or sluggish.
The rest of the drive is relatively quiet as you direct Toby how to maneuver the streets and he parks in the parking lot of Dunkin'. While you were getting out you'd asked the men if you could get them anything from Dunkin' as a thank you for driving you. Brian tried to decline but Toby spoke over him with what “they” wanted.
“Ok cool, can Connor have a pup cup?” unsure if service dogs could have treats while working.
Sparing a glance to the good boy in question Toby shrugged “Yea, he's due for a break any-anyway.” he ends with popping his knuckles. You assume Connor only alerts motor tics when Toby is driving or about to start driving, since that tic didn't get clocked.
You repeat the order to the cashier once inside. You also get a frozen caramel coffee and an iced caramel coffee for you and Nate along with a box of donuts to pick from for the day. When she hands you everything you're able to balance Toby's order on top of your box and your drinks in the other hand. Walking out with the help of the next man coming in, nodding thanks as you pass him, you see Toby leaning against his car with Connor sitting next to him, no vest on.
It's terrifying how well trained Connor is, because the dog you left in the car barely paid you any mind. While this hyper pup's tail is wagging at just the sight of you, his paws lifting slightly in a tiny dance as you get closer. But he doesn't dare move from his sit, looking up at Toby for cues and looking at you who holds his treat. Had you not worn a mask for so long you may have missed the smile Toby gave Connor as he pat the dog's head. The slight crinkles around the edges were a dead give away though. With a quick snap Connor is released from whatever command he'd been held by and runs up to you once you're five feet from them.
Drooling mouth opening and closing in an odd mute bark for a dog this size. You take note of the fact that while he's jumping excitedly and pawing the air he hasn't laid a single paw on you. Whoever trained him knew what they were doing that's for sure. Looking up to Toby you hold the one hand outstretched for him to take his items, a tray with Connor's pup cup and his iced coffee, and a white baggie with three donuts, strawberry glazed, maple glazed, and an apple fritter.
Once he's taken his items you balance your drinks on top of the box. Connor's attention hasn't moved from you even through the exchange. You're a little confused by the pup's antics but he probably thinks he can get a donut off you.
“Sorry bubbie, your dad's got your treat not me.” that dopey little face tilts to the left not understanding you aren't the treat giver at this time. You laugh letting him smell the hand that had the coffee in it so maybe he'd understand you didn't have his treat. He excitedly sniffs you, and gives you a few licks before sitting back right in front of you with a blur of a tail behind him. Such a silly boy, he deserves some chin scritches.
“He's smart, told him you'd give 'im this.” Toby says holding out the pup cup to you, as you bend at an awkward angle balancing food in one hand while scratching his dog with the other.
Connor's a little disappointed when his pets stop but jumps to all fours when he sees the pup cup. His tail is wagging so fast you'd be afraid his butt will fall off, if that was a thing that could happen. You go to put the cup in front of him but Toby stops you.
“Hold on, Connor sit.” As soon as his name was called his bottom was on the ground. “You already know his release word so when you want him to take it just say the release.” He says offhandedly while placing the bag in the passengers seat and his drink in the cup holder. You can hear murmured arguing from inside the car, but choose to ignore it. These guys clearly aren't kidnappers, and if they were it's so stupid to kidnap you in broad day light after you just made a purchase and with literally a street in between you and your work, where your boss is waiting for you.
Placing the cup in front of Connor you didn't think it was possible for him to get any more excited but his tail is now undetectable by the human eye. He looks from his treat to you, back, and back to you. Toby said you already knew the release, and there's only one thing you've said to Connor throughout the trip.
“Thank you.” it's immediate, for such a well mannered service dog on and off duty this pup has no table manners. There is whip cream everywhere it's on the ground, his paws, even behind his head. How on earth did he manage that? This must be Connor's only character flaw because Toby is back with what you can only assume are all the napkins he had received in the donut bag, and service vest under his arm.
Once the pup cup was utterly decimated Connor sat happily, butt wiggling, as his dad wiped the rest of the whip cream off of him. Showing the pup the huge glob he had behind his ear only had him licking it off the napkin before licking his dad's face.
“Wrong.” Toby called, a little bummed the pup calmed down a bit but his tail was still going. Toby paused before he slipped the vest back on Connor. Head jerking back twice he looked over to you.
“You wanna say 'bye'?” you perked at the question, if you had a tail of your own it'd probably be wagging just as fast as Connor's.
Do you want to pet a dog, what kind of question was that? Of course you fucking do. Yea you might be late to work but petting a dog is always worth it. Setting your breakfast and coffee on the hood of the car you bent down with Toby to Connor's level.
If that dog could talk he'd tell everyone you gave the best ear scratches, sure you may have smooshed his wrinkly face a ton. But you were so nice and was that baby coos, ah he loves you new best friend. Connor jumped up when you started cooing and gave you a ton of kisses to the face. You couldn't stop laughing and the repetitive motion triggered a tic. Thankfully your mask was on so Toby couldn't see you tongue poke out repeatedly as you said “bleh” in between giggles.
“Wrong.” he says gently pushing the drooling pup away. Shaking the spit off his hand before scratching the pup under the chin, right where the bottom of his ear met his jaw. The pup instantly melted calming into his handlers touch. With his dog now calm he whistles and Connor is standing up straight, Toby slips the vest over his head and secures it. Connor the puppy has turned back into Connor the good boy working pup.
Grabbing your stuff from the hood of the car you turn to Toby and Connor, “Thanks again for the ride, and for letting me pet your dog.”
You're met with a simple shrug, not much phases Toby you've noticed. Aside from his tics that is.
“See ya later Tobias!” with that you're on your way to cross the street legally, and by that you totally jay walked out into traffic in front of the sheriff. You may have jay walked in front of the sheriff, but he didn't do anything so you're fine.
#A cure for insomnia#proxies x reader#proxies#ticci tobyx reader#ticcitoby#ticci toby#timothy wright#timothy wright x reader#brian thomas x reader#brian thomas#masky x reader#masky x hoodie#masky#hoodie#creepypasta fanfic
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TomEdd Shmut
It was a normal day in the Edd house. Birds were singing, the bees were buzzing, the sun was out. What a nice day.
Sike.
Tom and Tord had gotten into a fist fight. Matt had tried to break them up, but got roughly pushed out of the way and his mirror broken. Edd was out of the house, taking Ringo to a pet store for a halloween costume.
Tord had thrown Tom onto the coffee table, breaking it in half.
"NOW LOOK WHAT YOU DID, ASSHOLE!" Tom got up, pointing to the broken table.
"It would've been fine if it wasn't for your fat ass, jehovah." Tord wiped the blood running from his nose.
Matt was crying in the corner, holding the shards of his broken mirror like it was his child, "You two better clean this up before Edd comes ho-home," he sniffled.
Tom and Tord looked at each other, panicked.
Suddenly they were friends now, quickly cleaning the house like they had just had a party and their parents were coming home.
God forbid Edd gets mad. He usually had a lot of patience, but piss him off and you're a dead man.
The two bloodied boys were about halfway through with cleaning when they heard keys jingling outside. They rushed in a panic. They haven't even gotten to the living room yet, and it was the worst out of all the rooms.
They hurried to the living room, picking up the broken table, but it was too late.
Edd had walked through the door, holding Ringo in a pumpkin outfit. He stopped mid tracks when he saw the table smashed in two. He gently set down his little pumpkin, letting her walk away before slamming the front door closed.
"What. The hell." Calm as can be. Oh no.
Tom looked to the side, avoiding eye contact. Tord started stuttering, trying to explain what had happened.
"They were fighting. Tord threw Tom on the table," Matt broke through, walking to the kitchen.
Tord glared at him.
"What? I'm not gonna lie to him." Matt shot his hands up in defense.
"Thank you Matt," Edd said calmly. He looked back at the two standing in the living room, "After you two clean this up, go to your rooms and I'll have a word with both of you."
The two nodded, slowly starting to clean up the pieces of wood scattered on the carpet.
Tom tried bending down to pick up a half of the table, but realized he couldn't. His back was in pain.
He quickly stood up, finding another way to pick up their mess. He chose to squat down, but it still hurt. Not as much as bending, but it still hurt.
His face pinched in pain every time he squat down. And Edd had noticed.
Once the two were done with their mess, Tord had dismissed Tom so he can vacuum.
Tom painfully walked up the stairs and into his room, quietly closing the door behind him.
He layed on his bed, on his stomach, waiting for Papa Edd to come punish him.
He heard Edd already talking to Tord downstairs. He couldn't make out what they were saying, but he knew what was happening.
After a few minutes, everything got quiet. That's when Tom knew that he was next. He felt like a child, waiting in their room to be punished by their parent.
He heard Edd's heavy footsteps getting closer to his door. He quietly embraced himself for what might happen next.
Edd opened his door, closing it behind him.
"Tom."
Tom kept his head down, staying quiet and still. Maybe if Edd thought he was sleeping-
A harsh slap was delivered to Tom's ass. His head jumped up, looking back at Edd, who stood with his arms crossed and a glare.
"Ow! What the fu-"
"Sit up and face me." Edd's voice was deep and stern. It honestly made Tom blush.
His gay ass.
Tom sat on the edge of his bed, facing Edd. He looked down, avoiding eye contact with the man towering over him.
"Look at me, Tom."
Tom's blush became a deeper red when Edd said his name. He looked up at him, softly biting his lip.
Edd crouched down so they were face to face, "If you two break any of the furniture over something so stupid again, I'll have your ass on my wall. Do I make myself clear?"
Tom felt his pants getting tighter. Edd smelled so... sexy.
Tom nodded, moving his hands between his thighs so Edd wouldn't see his erection.
Edd retreated back to his normal, happy self, "Great! Take off your shirt and let me see your back."
Tom's black eyes widened, "What? No!"
Edd's voice got low again, "Did I fucking stutter? Take your shirt off, Tom."
Tom still hesitated.
"Now."
He jumped at Edd's voice being so stern, but boy did it turn him on even more. Now he wanted to argue to keep Edd in his room, then maybe he can jack off later to Edd's voice.
"I don't think so, Edd." Tom smirked.
Edd quietly glared at the smaller man below him.
"Fine then."
Edd quickly gripped the bottom of Tom's hoodie, pulling it over his head.
Tom shrieked from the sudden attack. He covered his arms from the chill in the room.
"Give that back!"
Edd shook his head, tossing the hoodie aside and going for Tom's shirt next.
Tom curled himself into a ball on his bed, swatting away Edd's hands.
Edd pushed him back, but tom uncurled himself and tried to crawl away.
That's when Edd did the unthinkable. He gripped Tom by his waist, pulling him towards him. His crotch smashed into Tom's ass, causing Tom to gasp.
He tried again to squirm away from Edd.
"You better be still before I pull your pants down and smack your bare ass."
Tom stilled, blushing immensely at Edd's words.
There he was, staying still in a doggy style position, his whole face red, letting Edd slide his hands up his shirt and take it off. Did I mention that Tom was incredibly horny?
Edd tossed his shirt on his hoodie, looking at his back. It was bruised straight down the spine and going onto his tailbone.
He ran his fingers on Tom's spine, pushing down and feeling for any bumps.
Tom jerked and whined, trying to move away from Edd.
"What did I say, Tom?"
Tom went still again, remembering what Edd had said earlier. He didn't want him to see his erection. Or know that he turned Tom on.
Edd's hands went lower down the bruised spine, stopping at the tailbone. He used both hands, wrapping his fingers around Tom's waist and pushing his thumbs into the bruising.
"Ah- ow, Edd!" Tom sprang forward.
"Alright, that's it." Edd pulled Tom's pants down to his knees, leaving his ass bare for him to see.
He noted how soft and plush Tom's ass looked.
"Wait, Edd-" Edd gave Tom a harsh smack across his ass, making Tom jump and cover his mouth.
He smacked again, making Tom jump again. He noticed Tom closing his eyes and his facial features softening.
Before Edd could deliver a third hit, he noticed something. Tom was hard and dripping precum.
"You're not supposed to like this, Tom." Edd delivered the third smack, watching Tom's cock twitch in excitement.
"S-Sorry..." Tom was completely embarrassed.
Edd sighed, thinking of a way for Tom to not enjoy it. That horny fucker.
"What if I..." Edd gently slid his finger over Tom's puckering hole.
Tom gasped, looking back at Edd, "Wh-what are you doing- ah~!"
Edd slid his finger into Tom, gently fingering him before adding another.
"You like this, don't you?"
Tom bit his lip, looking down in shame. Of course he liked it, why wouldn't he?
"Answer me, Tom." Edd smacked Tom's ass again, moving his fingers around inside him.
"Y... yes.. I like this."
"Do you want more~?" Edd's voice was starting to become seductive.
Tom thought for a moment. Did he want more? Well, it was better than having a lonely jack off session later. But he hasn't slept with Edd before. He's only hooked up with Tord.
Edd's fingers hit Tom's prostate, making him gasp, throw his face into the bed, and moan.
Edd smirked, hitting it again, making Tom moan more.
"God, Edd please fuck me~!" Tom moaned into the sheets.
Edd took his fingers out of Tom and took off his own pants. He teased Tom's hole with the tip of his dick, causing Tom to whimper and moan.
"Got any lube?"
Tom quickly pointed to his bedside table. Edd slid the drawer open, pulling out a bottle of lube. He put a droplet onto his finger and rubbed it around Tom's entrance. Then he coated his cock in the lube, making sure to get it slippery.
He set the lube aside, taking his cock into his hand and teasing Tom's entrance again.
"Edd, please~"
Edd slowly pushed his dick in, causing the smaller man moan and grip the sheets.
Once he was fully inside of Tom, he didn't give him time to adjust to his size. He started ramming into Tom, hitting his prostate with each thrust.
Tom's mouth gaped open, tears welling in his eyes. It was painful, but felt so good, and he was loving it.
Edd leaned forward, wrapping his hand around Tom's neck and pulling him back a little.
"You like wrecking the furniture? I'll make sure you don't walk for a few days."
Tom moaned at Edd's threat. He never knew Edd could be so rough.
He grabbed his own cock, jerking himself off, overstimulated by the pleasure from both ends.
Edd took his hands off of Tom's throat and gripped his cock. He started pumping his fist at the same pace he was thrusting, making Tom go nuts.
He could tell that he was close.
Edd gripped the base of Tom's cock, not allowing him to cum.
"Eeedddd~ plea-asEee~!"
"Uh-uh. Little Tommy isn't cumming today." Edd started panting as he was ramming into Tom.
He started getting close himself. He was panting and becoming sloppier with his thrusting. He made sure his grip didn't leave Tom's cock though.
Edd rested his head on Tom's bruised back, breathing heavily and lightly kissing it.
His thrusts became slower as he came inside Tom, filling him with his warm juices.
Tom moaned at the warmth that invaded his rear. He felt Edd pull out, but his hand didn't leave his base.
"Edd, please~! Let me cum."
Tom begged and whined, earning a harsh slap from Edd again.
"No. Bad boys don't get to cum."
Well, shit. Looks like Tom was going to have a lonely jerk off session after all.
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Home
Bakugou x reader
Warning: death mention in a conversation, weed smoking, fluff
Summary: late night talking with bakugou while you both smoke weed turns out to be the beginning of a long relationship
Note: I recommend you listen to home by cavetown _ it is what I am listening to while writing this , I also inspired some of it out of the lyrics _:)
Note 2: I didn't check for mistakes yet , I got so emotional writing this so I hope it got out well...have fun!
After bakugou got kidnapped, he got really quiet, not as loud as usual
That doesn't mean he stopped being his usual self , not at all ...he just...got quieter. Not screaming all the time ... trying his best to keep his emotions to himself , to not look as week as he feels
Especially that his own mom thinks it's his fault that his got kidnapped, that allmight lost his power because of him
So , and as a way to not explode and hurt someone close to him , he decided that it's okay if he get out of his room and walked in the garden around the drooms
Setting there, under the night sky..he feels like a stranger to himself...so lost without a hope to get out of his own mind...prisoner to his own feelings ... he let out a heavy breath, throwing hi head back and closing his eyes
"It will get better kat, don't be a week mother fucker now...you have made it so far so don't give up now you fucking idiot "
Mumbling to himself, he wiped away a tear that fall from his eyes...he is so done with all of this...
Maybe he was so lost in his mind that he didn't even notice your footsteps coming from behind, Maybe he was so deep in the beginning of a panic attack that he didn't hear your feets making thir way to him
He shivered when you touched his shoulders , looking back as he get his hands out of his sweet pants pocket, ready to blow your ass up immediately
"What the fuck are you doing here now you fucking idiot?"
"Wooh, calm down boom boom boy! Jesus, am just smoking "
"What??" He asked, looking more relaxed that it was just you and not some villain...at least he is not alone with his thoughts now
"Oh , I smoke...weed..from time to time...you know? To help me relax a little "
"This shit is going to fucking kill you one day"
"Ooh , you are worried about me? How adorable " you laughed,setting on the grass , next to his tall legs
And just resting your head to the side of his legs , it's not like he minded tho , you were a sweet person and he was kinda comfortable around you .
"Want to try some? You look like you need to relax...I promise I will tell no one !" You smiled to him , you were the most chill person he ever knew...kinda like sero...it was helpful that you did ask anything, just smiled to him
"You have another cigarette?"
"Yah wait" you got one out of your pocket and gave it to him smiling, he took it and lighted it up with a small explosion from his hands and took a deep breath
"You look good with a cigarette in between your lips "
"Shut up , dumbass "
"Sorry sorry" you laughed and closed your eyes, getting more comfortable with your head still attached to the side of his leg
Comfortable silence went between you both before you layed your whole body on the grass and pointed at the empty space next to you
"Come and lay down , watch stars with me"
He looked at you for some time before he get up to lay next to you , staring at the stars
Few minutes passed, until you talked
"Are you dead?"
"W...what?" Honestly he was so confused to even use his usual angry voice
"You know , sometimes I think am dead...because I just can't feel anything.. "
"How?" He asked slowly, welling to know more.. maybe understanding your emotions will help him with his
"It's like...am not what everyone wants me to be ... not as funny as denki or as smart as deku or as strong as you..not what my family wanted and not what my friends wanted .. it feels like I am a stranger...like no one really likes me as who I am...it feels like I am disappoiment...you know?"
"Well...I think I know" he turned his head back to the sky, staring at them while he talks
"I have Always tried to be the best...but somehow...somehow I have Always been a disappointment " he whispered, not looking at you as you got yourself to set and took a deep breath of your cigarette
"It's not true tho, I know how bad it feels... I know how bad you must be feeling now...but hey! You don't have to be alone anymore!"
He looked at you with red eyes that shines from the reflection of the sky
"You have done amazing you know...going through all of this...it was never your fault...I know you think you are week and everything but kat , if it makes any difference...I am really proud of you "
"Why? Why would you be proud of me? I am not good, y/n ...I couldn't even save myself and I put my friends in danger to save me...I am the reason almight I not a hero anymore .. I can't even get my shit together and focus on studying and training! I AM USELESS .. so why the fuck would you be proud if me???"
He said, his voice is not loud but it's broken... tears falling down his face and he doesn't even try to hide it...as much as he hates that he is crying in front of someone but it was all so much.. he can't hold it back anymore
"Why wouldn't I be proud of you katski? This is the real question... you have done amazing agents all of those villains, you are back to us and you are trying your best to study and train, you are smart, strong , beautiful, loud , caring, lovely...you are doing you best and if people around you don't see this so fuck them...I am fucking proud of you and you can't change that , so just accept it because I will say it over and over again, for every day from now on if I have to , until you believe it" you said, staring at him with a serious look that you don't show often
He broke down. Setting up and crying like a little kid...God he can't remember when did anyone told him that they were proud of him
And as he cry hardly you just smiled softly and hugged him so tight
"It's okay , heros cry too you know.. let it all out okay?...am not going anywhere .."
Je cried for almost a hour, hugging you back and not saying a word
Just listing to your soft voice mumbling a "It's okay now" and a "there there.. I know it have been too much...just let it all out ... I am proud of you kat" from time to time
When he finally calmed down he talked slowly with a low voice
"Y/n...I...am a little out of it now...but .. you have always been in my thoughts to help me when I lose myself "
Ge looked you in the eyes, desperate for your love
Only you made him that happy .. only you can see him crying like this
"Will you. .go out with me sometime?"
You laughed softly and kissed his forehead, getting up and giving him a hand to get up to
"Of course I will kat, now come on...let's get inside...you must be so tired "
Yes , it have always been you.. you have always been there to give him a hand .. maybe he is not a mess up after all .. maybe he is greedy enough to want you for himself
"You have always been there for me , waiting with open arms...and I will always be there to catch you ...you will be my soft and beautiful and I will always be your strong and faithful man...until the very end" _ katski bakugou
The end ♡
#bnha bakugou#bakugou x reader#buksquad#headcanon#bakgou katsuki#bnha boys#mha boys#bakugou#comfort bakugou#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugou katsuki#katsukibakugou#bakugou x you#bakugou fluff#bakugou soft#Spotify
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Backfire
tw: description of injuries
...
Sometimes, crime happened quietly.
Sometimes it was a man in business attire entering a sleepy, small-town bank with a gun holstered at his hip.
Sometimes it was a few calm words requesting the cash from the vault with a cold barrel of steel tickling the teller’s neck.
Sometimes danger manifested only in bloodlust, and a sense of dread could take a room hostage with no fanfare at all.
This was the case as an ashen-faced citizen toed her way quietly out of the bank, heart in her throat, vision creeping gray at the edges, processing what she’d seen. The gun. The man. The hostages beneath the table. So quiet, so unremarkable, so lacking in the cacophony most villains brought with them that she almost hadn’t believed what she’d seen.
She thought to scream for help, but the image in her mind dazed her, subdued her. How had she walked out unscathed? How had he not pursued her? He’d seen her, those cold gray eyes flitting to hers for a single second when the bell chimed overhead. She’d seen him, his sweep of peppered hair catching the sunlight, his burgundy suit perfectly fitting on a tall frame. He should have killed her. She should be dead. How had she just walked back out?
The same tinkle of bells pelted out behind her. So gentle, and so non-threatening on a warm day of late May. But the sound dizzied her. She flinched, spun, a full-body shiver racking down her spine. The man in the burgundy suit stepped out. Unassuming, with just a simple briefcase in hand, he could pass for any other normal citizen were it not for the bevel at the hip of his suit where the gun was holstered. He looked at her briefly. His eyes locked hers, and she did not dare to breathe.
The man in the burgundy suit walked on.
“Ma’am… Ma’am?”
A hand touched her shoulder. She jumped.
“O-oh, sorry about that Ma’am! But are you okay? You look pale.”
It was a boy. A boy was speaking to her. She saw him now – half a head shorter than her, staring up at her from beneath a mop of curly plain hair that was tinted a deep forest green in the sunlight. His face was round and boyish, freckled, and he was dressed head-to-toe in a jumpsuit fortified with gauntlets, and leg braces, and a utility belt.
“…Hero?” she asked.
“Oh! Well uh, provisional hero, actually, um, I’m still in training! I’m a student. Deku. Is my name. You can call me Deku. My classmates and I are on patrol right now for training but. Um. You. Are you alright?”
She processed little of what he said. Her mouth moved slowly, numb.
“The bank,” she said.
“I’m sorry?”
“…was robbed. The bank.”
She raised a trembling hand, index finger outstretched, targeted to the building behind her. It basked, seemingly untouched, in the warm sunlight. No destruction, no panic, just a bright white façade with the vault emptied out from the inside. “The man in the business suit. Him. He robbed it” And steadily her arm swung, until the line from her finger pinned the back of the burgundy man shrinking to a nondescript figure on the horizon. “Had a gun. He had a gun.”
And the alarm bells sounded behind her.
Wailing sirens. Strobing lights. Like the brief pause in the world had ended. Reality resumed at full speed, full volume, smashing through her chest. Erupting a gasp from her lungs. Snapping her to her senses.
That’s when her knees gave out. The green-suited boy caught her. From the corner of her eye, she saw two more costumed children race after the man with the briefcase.
“It’s okay, Ma’am. It’s alright! We’ll handle this. Did he use his quirk? What power did he have? What did you see?” The boy – Deku - asked her.
She shook her head. “No quirk. No power. Just a gun. All I saw. Just a gun.”
“Did you see anything else?”
“No.”
“Okay. Okay, thank you. That’s very helpful! We’ll handle this.” He steadied her, and pulled his arms away. Thin glowing veins of light like spiderwebs spread across his body. “Get somewhere safe, Ma’am. The pros will be here soon.”
In a flash, he was gone.
…
“What’d you find out?” Todoroki asked, sidelong, as Deku raced in to match his stride. Bakugou flanked him on the other side, all three of them maintaining a safe 50 feet of distance behind the briefcase man, who’d broken into a run from the moment the alarm sounded.
“He didn’t use a quirk to rob the teller. Just a gun. So I’ve got no intel on his quirk. We should be cautious. His quirk could be anything.”
The man took a sharp right, off the main road. The towncenter street ebbed away behind them, trees and greenery punctuating the sides of the roadway as the residential area bloomed ahead.
“Or his quirk could be nothing,” Todoroki offered. “It’s unusual for a villain to rob a bank without using one. If we’re lucky, he might be quirkless.”
“Or it could not matter,” Bakugou interjected. He upped his pace, arms spread behind him with a few sparks flash-igniting along his palms. “Street’s empty here, and I’m not giving him the chance to attack first. Stay back while I blast this fucker!”
“We should wait for the pros!” Deku yelled. “If we just tail him—”
“If we just tail him. WEAK! I’m taking him down first. You two try to keep up!” Bakugou announced, voice cracking as he shouted over the flash-ignition of his gloves. A blast of heat washed over Deku, and Deku shielded his own eyes as Bakugou rocketed off ahead of him, instantly closing the gap to the fleeing suspect. 30 feet, 20, 10.
The suspect spun, meeting Bakugou’s eyes for a single second.
Several things happened in the next moment. The lock in Bakugou’s elbows, which kept his arms pointed straight behind him as propulsion, faltered. And he faltered like a helicopter faulters when one of its blades is taken out. His body gave a spasmodic jolt, teetering, veering. This came with a strangled eruption of noise from Bakugou’s throat, wet and choking. His arms curled. His gauntlets extinguished. And Bakugou crashed. Gracelessly, violently smashing to the asphalt below, his momentum still carried him forward, so that Bakugou’s body tumbled and skidded until slamming to a halt against the curb.
“Kacchan!” Deku felt his heart jump to his throat. He jerked forward. Todoroki swung one stiff arm out to stop him. “What was that? What did he do??”
“No idea,” Todoroki answered. And he swept his right arm out wider now, a cascade of blooming ice wrapping down the sidewalk and heading off the villain ahead, who’d tried just briefly to take off running once more. The villain halted, nearly tripping on his own feet, a split-second shy of colliding with Todoroki’s wall of ice.
Todoroki stopped, as did Deku, whose focus was divided between Bakugou’s crumpled form and the enemy ahead. Spasms still racked Bakugou’s body – alive, conscious – but he was not getting up. The lack of information terrified Deku the most, because he hadn’t even seen how the villain had struck Bakugou, let alone what it had done to him.
“Don’t get too close until we know what he can do,” Todoroki said.
“I know. I know, but,” Deku muttered in response, eyes still flitting to Bakugou. “Kacchan’s in danger. We can’t leave him there. If you distract the villain, just for a moment, I’ll grab Kacchan. I’m fast. I can do it in an instant. If you just cover me.”
Todoroki said nothing. He only nodded, and took one step forward, and ignited a pyre of flame crawling down his left arm. “Be fast. Before he blinks.”
Deku bounced from his spot. He covered that distance between him and Bakugou in a single bound. He wasted no time hoisting Bakugou around the middle, and spinning on heel, and bounding back to Todoroki’s side. Over in a moment, done in an instant, too fast for even the flit of the villain’s eyes, who’d been well distracted by the swell of fire along Todoroki’s left side.
Deku set Bakugou down gently, but he did not dare remove his hand from him.
“Are you hurt?” Todoroki asked.
“No. Nothing. He didn’t touch me.”
“How’s Bakugou?”
“I can’t tell. I don’t want to drop my guard.”
“Then take him and run. I’ll cover you.”
“No. I won’t abandon you here.”
“It’s fine.” With his words, Todoroki curled his right wrist up. Ice braided up and out, a single rail that slammed the villain’s arm and pinned it, solidified, against the wall of ice Todoroki had already erected. “I can keep my distance. Send the pros this way. I can hold him.”
Deku’s instincts screamed against him, swamped him with the guilt at the idea of leaving Todoroki to fight this battle alone. But Bakugou’s silent crumpled figure worried him more. The fact that Bakugou hadn’t so much as protested once – either against Deku saving him or Todoroki suggesting they escape – worried Deku more than he could properly explain.
“Alright. …Alright. I’ll be back. And with pros. This won’t be like Stain. I promise,” Deku said. For the first time, he let his sight fully stray from the villain. His eyes dropped to Bakugou instead, who was too curled in on himself to properly assess with a single glance. Beyond the tears and scrapes in his costume from slamming into the asphalt, Deku couldn’t see anything visibly wrong.
Deku bent down, and he wrapped one arm around Bakugou once more, and he cranked the power of One For All running through his bones just a bit higher. From 8% up to 10%. Because this was real. Because he needed to be fast, for Todoroki’s sake.
Deku’s feet never made it off the ground. He felt it like a crack in the pressure of the air, a sudden, distinct, discrete switch in the atmosphere that bled hot into his bones. He heard the choking wet inhale from Todoroki, and did not even need to look to confirm the horror in his gut.
Deku looked anyway. Eyes flitting in an instant to his right, he watched Todoroki jolt as though someone had taken a bat to the back of his knees. The wet keening inhale from Todoroki turned to a rasp, a burst of raw noise from his throat, and the wrapping flames along his left arm went out. In an instant, the smell on the wind turned terrible, and Todoroki buckled into the gravel.
“Todoroki?”
Deku crouched, his power ebbing down away from the 10% he couldn’t sustain. He did not dare release Bakugou, though now he tugged rightward in an attempt to hover over Todoroki too. Deku’s free hand hung suspended in the air. He did not set it down on Todoroki. It was perhaps his only weapon right now. Deku could not spare even the instant it would take to assess what had happened to Todoroki. He kept his eyes now on the villain, too heated and terrified to risk diverting his attention for even a microsecond.
Panic leaked through Deku’s very bones. He couldn’t carry both Bakugou and Todoroki and expect to escape. Stain. Iida. Todoroki. All too familiar.
“Get up,” Deku whispered. “Get up, please.” He wasn’t speaking to Bakugou or Todoroki in particular. It was to either of them. Both of them.
Neither responded in words. Not so much as a note of rage from Bakugou. That alone was bad, enough to heighten the fear already thrumming through his chest.
What could he do? Could he risk turning his back on the villain? Could he even spare a moment to figure out how wounded the other two were? Presently, Deku did not feel like he could look away. Because If the villain dropped him too, they stood no chance.
How long until the pros would get here?
“What happened? What happened??” Deku asked, short of breath. “What did he use?? What did he do?? Please. Todoroki. Kacchan. What did he do?”
Some noise came from Todoroki, but nothing that formed coherent words. A whistling from his throat too pained to wrap into words. Quick glances told Deku nothing. Todoroki had curled in on himself, too hidden to evaluate for damage.
“Yoo-hoo! Young man!” The villain. Deku bolted upright, vision latched firmly to the man up against the ice wall. His gray eyes met Deku’s, and peppery hair slicked with sweat clung in curls to his forehead. “You seem strong and strapping, and it appears my route home has been blocked by this ice, as has my wrist. Think you could knock it down for me? I’d very much like to be on my way.”
“And why would I help you?!” Deku shouted. “Look what you—"
“If you help me out, I promise to let your friends live.”
“…What did you do? What happened to them? What’s your quirk?!” Deku continued. He rose now, tall on legs he did not fully trust to support him, and he took a single uncertain step forward. His body blocked Bakugou and Todoroki behind him. Deku held himself up as a human shield between them and the villain whose quirk could incapacitate without so much as a single touch.
“Oh my quirk is really quite useless in today’s society, I don’t think you should fret! I do reiterate that I would love to have this ice wall removed though. I hear sirens in the distance.”
“T…Tell me… Tell me your quirk.”
“Certainly, if you break this ice wall.”
Deku stood, frozen, indecision rooting him to the spot, heart pounding in his throat. The villain had the advantage. The villain had information he didn’t. The villain had knowledge of how to drop Todoroki and Bakugou in a single moment, and that – the fact that it was those two specifically – cowed Deku more than he wanted to admit.
Something knocked his left ankle.
Deku broke eye contact with the villain, eyes shooting to his side. He blinked, and looked truly at what had tapped his ankle, pulling his thoughts back together.
Bakugou’s gauntlet.
Bakugou, face down in the gravel still, had craned his neck far enough for his eyes to lock with Deku. Pitifully, he knocked his gauntlet against Deku’s ankle once more.
“…Off,” Bakugou wheezed out between labored breaths.
“Off?” Deku asked.
“Get it off,” Bakugou keened, and the traces of bravado did nothing to hide the agony of his words.
“Oh. O-okay.” With one more glance thrown to the villain to ensure he hadn’t moved, Deku crouched fully to Bakugou’s side. When he grabbed the gauntlet, Bakugou hissed. When he pulled, Bakugou yowled.
“It’s stuck,” Deku said. “Why is it stuck?”
He traced his hands down the length of the gauntlet, to where the edges of the gloves met skin. Deku turned Bakugou’s arm over, eyes trained to the inner forearm, and felt his stomach twist into knots.
“It’s melted,” Deku mouthed. But those words weren’t quite right, and Deku understood that the longer he looked. The gauntlet and the gloves hadn’t melted – it was Bakugou’s own skin that had melted to them. Deku looked more closely to where glove met flesh. The exposed skin beneath the glove was welted red and bubbled, peeled raw with flays of dead white skin curling back and away toward his elbow. Tissue, down nearly to tendon, was exposed beneath and it leaked beads of fluid that gave Bakugou’s whole wound a thick greasy shine.
Deku had never seen a burn victim in real life, but he understood well enough what he was looking at. It was the wounding pattern of someone who’d been gripping a live grenade, burned so deep and so thoroughly that Bakugou could scarcely form words.
“Kacchan.” Deku had nothing else to say.
“He seems pretty badly burned,” the villain tossed out. His voice was sing-song, nonchalant. “At least, that’s my assessment from the smell wafting over here.”
“Fire… is it a fire quirk? Did you burn him?” Deku asked, but something didn’t sit right in his chest. This wasn’t like Todoroki’s fire quirk. Deku had seen no flames from the villain. He’d seen nothing.
“…Run.”
Deku’s head snapped down to his right, tilting back, following the noise. It was Todoroki who had spoken. Still on the ground, with his right hand clawing into the gravel, Todoroki stared up at Deku with desperate eyes. “Run. Get the pros. Just run.”
“No.”
“Run!”
“No!”
“Before he gets you too!”
“N—” Deku stopped short, his whole body spinning toward Todoroki. He had a chance finally to see the damage, to look Todoroki over properly, now that Todoroki had unfurled himself. The whole length of Todoroki’s left arm – no, his whole left side – had been seared down to a greasy red. In his panic earlier, Deku hadn’t registered the smell of singed fabric, of burnt flesh. The burn pattern was hauntingly uniform up and down the whole length of Todoroki’s left arm, along shoulder and neck and cheek and creeping up to the corner of his eye. Strands from the fabric of his uniform were woven into the burns, like tree roots through mucky soil, finding purchase in the subcutaneous tissue.
Burned as well. Burned as well... The villain had gotten him just as he’d gotten Bakugou. Deku wondered if he had only seconds left. Or if perhaps the villain had abstained from attacking him since Deku seemed to be his last hope at breaking through the ice wall.
“I’m losing patience with you, boy. I’ll do the same to you as I did to your friends if you don’t help me.”
Ice wall…. Made of ice.
“Do… what? Are you going to burn me too?”
“Oh, perhaps.”
“I think that would be hard… since you don’t have a fire quirk.” Deku steadied his breath. He found his voice. He pinned his eyes on the villain. “If you did, you could have melted yourself free.”
The villain said nothing. Deku swallowed dryly. A thought stung in the back of his mind, a seed of ice that spread cool and tingling through his body. A hope. A hunch. A prayer, maybe.
“I think, actually, you have no idea if you can attack me,” Deku continued. The wailing sirens bled louder behind him. “The threats you’re making right now. You’re bluffing.”
“Oh, you sound so confident, young man. Are you so confident that you’re willing to end up like those two on the ground?”
“…Yes, actually,” Deku answered. And he pulled a smile to his face, a small and wavering on, still shaken by his bout of panic, but it was one he held. “Because I’ve already ended up like them.”
“I don’t think you understand what you’re up against.”
“They’re burned. They’re really badly burned. But.. they burned themselves, didn’t they? Kacchan’s palms. Todoroki’s left side. You didn’t attack them. You made them attack themselves. Your quirk cancels out a person’s bodily immunity to their own quirk, doesn’t it?”
A silence. An emptiness filled the space between them. Only the sound of the swelling sirens from far behind filled the gap. The villain offered only a simple smile, which curled wider and brighter than Deku’s. He barked a laugh, delighted.
“Oh, you’re a smart boy,” the villain answered. “It’s a useless quirk in day to day life. But it’s brilliant against heroes. I really love seeing how they crumble when they get a taste of their own medicine.” The man cocked his head. “And I’ll bet you’re thinking how smart you are right now – you’ll just not use your quirk against me, right? I’m already pinned. You’ve practically won.” His unrestrained hand snaked to his belt in an instant, and with a flash of sun glinting along steel, he unholstered the gun from his side. “Which is why I carry this. So choose. Use your quirk and incapacitate yourself. Choose not to use it, and die by my gun. Or free me. It’s your choice. But I’m only giving you five seconds to make it.”
Five
“I’m choosing D – none of the above,” Deku answered.
Four
“Final answer?”
Three
Sirens keened closer. The slam and tumble of footsteps approaching. Deku breathed deep, and let the power thrumming through his bones dial up.
Two
“Yeah, final answer.”
One.
“Well then, sorry about this.” The villain cocked his gun, and set his pointer finger to the trigger.
Zero.
Deku kicked off from his spot in the road, light erupting in spider veins through his body. He pulled one arm back and cocked it. When he released it, it with power fine-tuned to 20% of his limit. Knuckle connected with jaw, and cracked the villain’s head sideways, and tumbled the gun from his grasp, and snuffed his consciousness with the ugly, calculated pop of his neck.
…
The pros hit the scene hardly 30 seconds later – two local heroes flanked with four sidekicks bursting through the bushes and trampling a few unfortunate flower beds as they slammed into a fight that had already ended.
They halted. A murmur rumbled through the pros, with one mouthing just audibly “Is that Backfire?” The words set the whole group of heroes on instant high alert, shooting like an electric current through each of them. One hero stepped forward, swinging a heavy hand out.
“Get back from him, kid! If that’s Backfire you don’t want to—” the hero, a burly man with cannons in his palms who Deku recognized as the Pro Hero Fodder, trailed off as he looked closely, drinking in the scene. The villain, Backfire, was slumped unconscious against the ice wall, pinned by his wrist. Deku breathed heavily, still sparking off a few vestigial traces of energy from the fight.
“I think… he got him.” The next pro, a woman with an acid-like sheen along her skin, stepped cautiously forward. Deku recognized her as well – Pro Hero Medusa. “A kid took down Backfire?”
“Oh… oh shit, look, Medusa. Over there. On the ground.”
“Oh sh—Quaker, call an ambulance!”
Deku’s ears were ringing. His senses had not caught up with him, not since connecting the final punch, not since the adrenaline spike ebbed to a near-sedative afterglow. He blinked, trying to come back to himself.
Fodder’s hands came down on Deku’s shoulders, snapping him back to reality.
“Kid, you okay?”
“Huh?” Deku blinked. “Yeah. But they’re—Kacchan and Todoroki! They’re both—”
“My sidekick’s calling an ambulance. We’re on it already. Don’t worry. He’s also got a first aid kit on him too. It’s okay now. You’re okay.”
Deku nodded. “Are they going to be okay?”
“They’re going to be okay.”
“The villain’s quirk. It canceled out their quirk immunity—”
“—We know. Trust us, we know.” Fodder looked up, giving Backfire’s slumped body a once-over glance, a grimace crossing his face. “This guy has hospitalized more heroes in this area than we—no, forget it, how did you do it? How’d you take him down?”
Deku looked at his own hand. He saw the image of it broken and busted a dozen times over. And yet here it was, completely intact, utterly uninjured. He flexed it, to be sure.
“It was simple. Really simple actually.”
Deku pulled his glove off. The skin beneath was completely undamaged, the last traces of Full Cowling fading away in the aftermath.
“It’s like… Kacchan’s palms don’t burn. And neither does Todoroki’s left side… Because they’re compatible with their quirks. Without that, neither of them would ever be able to use their quirks… But I’m incompatible to start.”
Fodder looked Deku over properly for the first time since arriving on scene, eyes squinting just a fraction. “Incompatible? Are you… I recognize you from the U.A. Sports Festival, that was you, wasn’t it? The kid who broke all his bones?” Fodder looked over his shoulder. “Shit… and those two are the First and Second Place winners, aren’t they? My office tried to scout Todorok—never mind. Never mind. What do you mean, kid? What were you saying.”
Deku pulled himself out of Fodder’s grip. He felt his own senses returning. He pulled in a few deep breaths to ground himself, and offered a simple, cordial smile.
“I mean, I was just lucky, I suppose. Backfire’s quirk didn’t work on me. Because I have no immunity to my quirk to start. I’ve injured myself plenty of times with it. So many times that I was risking permanent injury if I didn’t stop. So I learned to stop. All the training I’ve done has been to restrain my quirk enough to keep its power within my body’s limits. Backfire couldn’t have hurt me if he tried. I was… really just lucky.”
Deku stepped around Fodder. “I’m going… I want to wait with Kacchan and Todoroki. For the ambulance. Please. If I can.”
Fodder nodded, and he watched the boy go, sinking into his own thoughts. The fact that Backfire had been captured still had not caught up to him. Disbelief. And relief. After so many incidents of pro heroes near-fatally damaged by their own quirk, after so many gruesome scenes he’d arrived at. It was nigh unconscionable to accept that a single kid had taken him down.
Images of the U.A. Sports Festival flashed in his mind, the manic bloody broken desperation of that boy. And Fodder’s initial disbelief started to wane. Maybe this boy – this Izuku Midoriya of Class 1-A – couldn’t be classified as just some kid.
He’d seen heroes contemplate retirement after a brush with Backfire. The post traumatic fear of using their own quirk overwhelmed some of them, from just a single instance of damaging themselves beyond their control with it. Whatever this boy’s training had looked like, it had meant throwing himself headlong into his own destruction as many times as necessary to teach himself restraint.
He was fighting with exactly the handicap that Backfire inflicted on others, and still functioned at the level of someone who was nearly pro.
The boy had claimed he was “lucky”. Fodder watched him crouch down beside his friends, nudged back by the paramedics who’d just arrived on scene, watched him offer a smile and words that Fodder could not hear while the blond boy yelled back something unintelligible, which for unclear reasons brought a relieved smile to Midoriya’s face.
Fodder understand only a fraction of the whole picture, but from what he’d witnessed, he knew it was something well beyond luck that burned in that boy.
#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#bnha#mha#bnha fanfiction#-kicks this here and runs-#oh some tags to be safe:#injury //#violence //#gore //#(sorta)
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Cyro meeting Lemon Monster for the first time - Lemcy fic
⚠️WARNINGS FOR THIS FIC: OC X CANON, VIOLENCE, CUSSING, KISSING, CRINGE⚠️
Character colors
Blue - Boyfriend
Red - Girlfriend
Green - Pico
Pink - Cyro
Orange - Lemon Monster
The night was still young, the stars shine brightly throughout the night sky, the full moon also gave a brilliant light that made the night seem less dark. Pico, Girlfriend, Boyfriend, and Cyro were having as friend's night out, just the four of them. They generally used their time in the night to goof around and have fun, visiting parks, getting ice cream and just messing around with each other.
As the night grew they decided to sleep over at Pico's place for the night, Girlfriend told her parents about it so they wouldn't panic if Girlfriend didn't get home tonight. On their way to Pico's house Pico noticed the mansion that Girlfriend's parent's had owned, the same one where Bee and Gee met the spooky kids Skid and Pump.
"Ayo, Bee, ain't that the same house you met those kids in?" Pico asked Boyfriend. "Hrm?" Boyfriend looked over and noticed the house. "Oh yeah, it is, what about it?" "Well ain't it also the same house where you told me you like dissed a weird lemon headed monster thing?" Pico added. "Uhh...y-yeah...? Where are you going with this Pico?" Boyfriend asked slightly nervous of what Pico's intentions could've possibly been...
"Well, it's been a long ass time since I had a good scare, not even Cassandra's stupid ass could scare me, you said the guy was genuinely terrifying, I wanna be the judge of that shit!" Pico exclaimed. "DUDE! ARE YOU FUCKIN INSANE? THAT FUCKER WANTED TO EAT ME AND BAE!" Boyfriend responded with a shocked screech. "Dude come on, how bad can it be for me? Besides, Gee can't die remember?" Pico tried to remind Boyfriend. "But he was still fucking creepy, even for a dearest like me." Girlfriend admitted.
"For real?" Pico asked, astounded by Girlfriend of all people admitting that. "Yeah dude." "Well if that's the case, i think it's about time you introduced me to him!" Pico chuckled. "DUDE NO! ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY?! PLUS WHAT IF CYRO GETS HURT?!" Girlfriend states to Pico, obviously not happy that he would want to do something this reckless and life threatening. Pico looked at Cyro and felt bad that he almost forgot that they were there..."Well...you guys know I'll shoot up anything hostile." He responds bluntly. "Come on, it'll be worth it, i wanna meet this fucker" Girlfriend and Boyfriend looked at each other and then looked at Cyro for their input.
"o-o-oh uhm..." Cyro was taken aback by the situation being suddenly focused around them. "Do you think you'll be able to handle this shit Cy?" Boyfriend asks the alien in a gentle tone, as to not put more stress on Cy. "w-w-well i-i m-m-mean uh...i-i guess it sh-shouldn't b-be too b-bad if P-Pico is the o-one protecting us..." They replied quietly but not too quiet to where Bee and Gee couldn't hear. "You sure?" "I-I'm p-positive! P-Please don't w-worry about m-me too m-much!" Cyro reassures the two. Bee and Gee look at Cyro for a while and sighed. "Alright just...stay close to us alright?" Cyro nods in response.
Girlfriend finally responded to Pico "Okay, fine we'll go in again..." Pico cheered. "HELL YEAH! LES FUCKING GO!!!" Pico screamed out in joy as he immediately darted towards the mansion and wasted no time to get in, the other three followed but not as enthusiastic as Pico, they were more reluctant if anything, especially Girlfriend...
The inside of the mansion felt as dead and haunted as the first time Girlfriend and Boyfriend went inside it together for the first time. "I still hate looking at the inside of this hellscape babe..." Boyfriend shuddered. "Me too honey bun..." "Awe come on you guys are pussies!" Pico giggled. "EASY FOR YOU TO SAY MAN, YOU FUCKING KILLED A HUGE ASS ALIEN WHEN WE WERE IN FUCKING SCHOOL!" Boyfriend screeched at Pico in anger only making Pico laugh more. Cyro was shaking like a leaf, clinging tightly onto Girlfriend's red dress. "Y-You okay Cy?" Girlfriend asked, worried about the shivering alien. "i-i-i-i-i'm g-g-g-good..." Cyro whimpered silently.
"Okay this was obviously a bad idea, I'm pretty sure this place alone is gonna make Cy have a huge panic attack.." Boyfriend sighed but was cut off by Cyro. "N-N-NO! I-i-i-i-i'm okay, i-i promise...i-i-it's j-j-j-just c-c-cold here..." "You sure Cy?" Pico asked, concerned as well. "Y-Yeah...t-trust me g-guys i-i'm fine!" The alien tried their best to reassure the three, which only resulting in Pico, Bee and Gee sighing in unison, they couldn't just back out on this so quickly...right...?
After some time of exploring the mansion, it did take some time for Pico to get genuinely spooked by the place... "Wow...y'all weren't fuckin around..." He chuckled nervously. "This place is creepy as fuck...why do your parents even own this place to begin with Gee?" Girlfriend shrugged "I don't know man, sometimes they don't even make sense to me..." She responds. "Wait, so you admit your scared then?" Boyfriend asks with a slight giggle.
"WH-WHAT?! N-NO?! I AIN'T FUCKIN SCARED BEE!!" "Ya sure Pico?" Boyfriend giggled even more. "Your sure acting like your scared!" "THERE'S A FUCKIN DIFFERENCE WITH BEING SCARED AND BEING CREEPED OUT YOU FUCK NUT, GET THAT THROUGH YOUR THICK ASS HEAD!" "Okay but your stuttering, your clearly pissing yourself dude." "NO I FUCKIN AIN'T!" "Yeah you are!" "SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!" Pico screamed. And thus, an argument began with the two boys, Girlfriend sighed. Some things never really do change, do they? Cyro looked away from the arguing boys only to be met with an odd looking shadow in the distance. "h-h-h-huh?"
"g-g-guys...?" Cyro tried to get everyone's attention but they couldn't be heard over Boyfriend and Pico so they had to try again "G-Guys?" Still not being heard over, so Cyro took a deep breath and reluctantly scream to get their attention. "GUYS!" With them finally being heard all three of them turned their heads to look at the quivering alien. "Is something wrong Cy?"
"u-uh y-yeah, WHAT TH-THE FUCK IS THAT?!" The alien screeched in terror pointing at the lemon shaped shadow that was hiding behind a door. "What's wh- oh...oh no..." "B-B-Bee...?" "What the fu..." The shadow suddenly had a visible smile and finally spoke. "Well, well, well~ what do we have here~? A three course meal~? How thoughtful of you all~!" The voice was deep, soothing, and mesmerizing. The creature slowly opened the door and stepped out.
As seen through the shadow it had a yellow, lemon shaped head, it's eyes were huge with wide pupils within them, it's teeth were uncomfortably crooked, it's neck was a velvet red and the rest of it's body was a pitch, raven black, it had two fingers on each hand, and it had only two toes on each foot. The creature was very tall in compared to the four other beings within the room, it towered over all of them.
"It has been quite a long while since i have seen you two~! And i see you've brought that little schizophrenic ginger friend of yours~! And-" the monster paused to look at Cyro behind Girlfriend, still scared out of their mind. "Well now~! Who's this little friend of yours~? They look rather...appetizing~ in more ways then one if i must be so bold to say~!" He said, attempting to slowly approach Cy but was stopped by Girlfriend. "Don't go near them...O R E L S E . . ." She warned it with a growl, which only made the lemon headed monster roll its eyes in annoyance. "And you still don't know how to not be so RUDE..." The monster growled.
"Better not try jack shit bitch, i know how to use this thing." Pico aimed the gun towards the monster which only made it boom with laughter. "You think a puny little weapon like that scares me? How adorable~!" It chuckled before lunging at Girlfriend and attacked her which made Pico start firing bullets at the creature, and Cy ran as fast as they could into an empty hallway. Boyfriend stood still, he didn't wanna engage in the violence, he didn't sign up for this shit man...
After the monster and Girlfriend fought, monster while doing a number on Girlfriend decided that enough damage was done and went after Cyro. Pico and Boyfriend, instead of knowing Girlfriend can easily heal, and going after the monster and making sure he doesn't hurt them, went to Girlfriend to see if she was okay, Cyro was sobbing and whimpering while running, wanting to be home right now and not here.
"FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK!!! I KNEW THIS WAS A BAD IDEA WHY DID I TRY TO LOOK BRAVE FOR EVERYONE HHHH!!!!" The alien screamed internally and wished that they were just honest so that none of this would be happening right now, after some running they found themself in a dead end, and what was worse is that they could hear the monster's footsteps. "NONONONONONONONONONO PLEASE PLEASE OH PLEASE I DON'T WANNA DIE, WHY ME, WHY ME. WHY ME!!!" As much as they hated themself, but they were still terrified of dying, especially like this...
The monster got closer and closer until he was visible again which only heightened Cyro's anxiety, their heart was pounding through their chest and their breathing was rapid, they could barley think straight at all. "There you are my dear~!" The monster cooed. "p-p-p-please leave m-m-me alone..." They whimpered quietly. "Oh don't worry dear~! I won't kill you~! Will i possibly hurt you? Maybe, but then again..." He got closer to them and pinned them against the wall, he slowly put his two fingered claws against their face, and caressed their face gently.
"I would feel guilty if i caused any sort of harm to an adorable and beautiful creature such as yourself~!" It whispered in their ear making Cyro blush deeply and shudder they were so confused by this behavior. "You know, i normally don't have such feelings for prey...but you...your different..." The monster explained to Cyro. "wh-what d-do you m-mean...?" "I mean what i mean my sweet cherry cake~! Your seem like such a delicate creature~!" The monster slowly moved it's claws under Cyro's chin and began to rub the bottom of their chin gently. Cyro couldn't help but purr at the sensation.
The monster chuckled at Cyro's purring, they were so adorable. "Perhaps i won't eat you~ your so sweet, I'm afraid that if I eat you, I'll get a cavity~!" The monster joked. Cyro didn't respond, they only continued to purr at the monster rubbing their chin, until he took his claw away from their chin which only made them whine. "wh-why'd y-you st-" they were interrupted by the monster giving them a soft and gentle kiss on the lips, which surprised Cyro at first, but they slowly sunk into the kiss and kissed the monster back. There was some time before they broke away from the kiss, Cyro panted softly while looking at the creature
The monster chuckled. "While i would love to keep you, i fear that i have aggravated your friends enough, so unfortunately this will be goodbye for now, but i will be back soon, my little prey, until we meet again~!" The monster whispered to them beore giving them a kiss on the cheek and disappeared into the shadows again. Which only left Cyro in confusion but at the same time, they felt like they've fallen in love again.
After some time Pico, Boyfriend and Girlfriend found Cy, fortunately for them Cyro was okay, and the four of them darted out of the house as soon as fucking possible. Cyro never really forgot about that day ever since...
#stfu cy#tw fnf#fnf tw#icon used for this was made by @cozykincafe#fnf fic#fnf fanfic#friday night funkin fic#friday night funkin fanfiction#fnf monster#fnf lemon monster#fnf lemon demon#fnf boyfriend#fnf bf#fnf girlfriend#fnf gf#fnf pico#fnf oc#friday night funkin oc#oc x canon#lemcy#cyro#cyro starfire#cyro x lemon monster#cyro x monster#cyro x lemon demon#pico#monster fnf#lemon monster fnf#lemon demon fnf#cy's shitty fanfics
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Cruelty of the Beast - Part 18. -END-
( previous. )
-----
Characters: c!Tommy, c!Ranboo, c!Wilbur, c!Dream, c!Techno, c!Phil
Word count: 2547 words
Content: Death, rebirth, beginning, reset, an ending.
Thank you for sticking with me through this story! I had such a blast writing this. This last chapter might be a bit rushed, I don’t know, but I wrote down everything I wanted to write, and I think it’s a fitting end, for all of them. Thank you so much for reading each chapter and sticking with me, and please stick around for my other works! I have so many ideas planned and in the works and I can’t wait for you all to love them too. <3
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There are too many thoughts swirling in Tommy’s head. One, the fact that he’s out of breath before they even make it to the crater. Two, that Ranboo’s eyes are eerily purple instead of the normal green and red he’s used to. The purple is the same shade as the magic coming from the dragon, but Tommy doesn’t dwell on it.
Three, Quackity’s body is still in front of his old house.
Gods, Tommy had really done that, hadn’t he? No wonder he’s out of breath. It’s not from running, he’s having a panic attack. Tommy doesn’t slow though, partially because Ranboo is still holding his hand and urging him forward. Tommy really needs to stop though.
“Ran,” he wheezes, tugging back. “I need...”
“Tommy?” Ranboo doesn’t let him go. Instead, the enderman is pressing up against Tommy in a way that with anyone else, Tommy would be screaming about personal space. With Ranboo though, he leans into the embrace. “Tommy, breath. Breathe. You’re okay!”
“What did I do?” Tommy swallows breath after breath, trying to steady himself. It’s not working, he’s seconds away from collapsing to the ground. He wonders if his lungs shrunk over the past several days, because this aches. “Quackity!”
“Tommy, shh.” How long has it been since anyone had actually shushed him? It’s almost patronizing, but Ranboo’s rubbing circles into his back. “You did what you had to do. It’ll be okay soon.”
Tommy bends over, resting his hands on his knees. Part of him wants to vomit, as if that will undo everything that had just happened. Part of him wants to slip away into some numb trance and stop feeling all over again. Neither option is happening, which means he’s stuck with this reality.
“Tommy, we don’t have much time. The dragon can’t stay forever.” Ranboo, while his voice is gentle, still has that underlying urgency. “You’re okay.”
“I’m not okay,” Tommy whispers. “I killed one of my friends. He still loved me, Ranboo. Said...”
“I know.” When Tommy looks up, Ranboo’s eyes are filled with emotion. It’s the way they’re drooping, the way his lips are curled downward. Tommy is struck with fear at that expression. If Ranboo is empathizing with him, then Tommy doesn’t want to think about the sacrifices Ranboo made. “I’m sorry, Tommy,” Ranboo continues. He leans closer, though now he’s pulling Tommy upright. “You breathing?”
He nods wordlessly. “Don’t have a choice big man.” He reaches for Ranboo’s hand again. It’s strange, how in a matter of days, Ranboo had become Tommy’s partner. He’s no Tubbo or even Wilbur, but he’s too important to Tommy anymore. When Ranboo’s hand finds his, Tommy squeezes, refusing to let go. “Lead the way.”
They start running again. How much time did Ranboo say they had? Minutes? How many minutes? Tommy isn’t sure he wants to know the answer, but he pushes those thoughts to the side when they approach what looks like a tunnel going straight down.
“Don’t worry,” Ranboo reassures him. “Wilbur made sure to put water on the bottom. It’s safe to jump.” He detaches himself from Tommy with a smile, before jumping into the hole. Tommy stares down, not at all reassured by this. He has no idea what’s even at the bottom, but then again, it’s probably leading to the bottom of the crater. Looking back over his shoulder, Tommy stills when he realizes the dragon is heading this way. It’s still breathing the magic fire. Tommy wonders why it’s coming this way, of all places.
“Tommy! You coming?”
Ranboo’s voice tugs him back to the hole. With a deep breath, Tommy jumps in, squeezing his eyes shut. He braces himself for a painful impact, but it doesn’t come. Instead, he hears a splash, and then the immediate sensation of being soaked. With a groan, Tommy hauls himself out of the tiny body of water, shaking his legs as if that will dry his trousers. “I hate this,” Tommy gripes.
Ranboo laughs and pushes him forward. “Come on, I want to explain the book to you.”
Book. Tommy had almost forgotten about that. His lip curls back in distaste. After what he’d just contributed to, Tommy isn’t sure he wants to handle more magic. They don’t have a choice, because Tommy doesn’t want to live in a world where everyone he once loved is dead. Plus, Ranboo’s eyes are still purple, and that has to mean something.
“Come on.” Ranboo takes his hand again and leads him forward. How does Ranboo know where they’re going? Tommy doesn’t know anything about the bottom of this god forsaken crater. He’d avoided it completely since Phil and Techno and Dream had blown up L’Manburg. That particular memory still aches. It still hurts, twisting in his gut every time he thinks of...
...thinks of how so many people had stood back to let it happen. He can’t even blame Techno and Dream completely, because he’s sure they’d have stood a chance if people had actually stepped up to fight with him instead of turning their backs on the country.
The memory aches, but shockingly enough, being down here doesn’t. Tommy almost feels neutral. He and Ranboo are surrounded by stone on all sides and it’s pitch black except for the faint glow of Ranboo’s eyes. It’s also eerily quiet. Above ground, there had been chaos and destruction. Down here, there’s nothing. It’s quiet, and Tommy can’t remember the last time he’d heard complete silence.
Maybe it’s an ominous sign, he doesn’t know.
“This way,” Ranboo whispers. “It’s so quiet down here, isn’t it?” Even he sounds unsure. Tommy gives him a sideways glance and sees the concern on his face. shrouded in darkness, but he can see the concern all the same. Hear it in the enderman’s voice as well. “You ever get scared?”
“Yeah.” Tommy laughs as they take a right turn. “I’m terrified, Ran.”
“Me too. Honestly, I have no idea what I’m doing, only that I feel safest around you.”
“Me? I’m the one that gave the green light for all this shit.” Tommy waves his arm around.
“Yeah, but it’s the way you did it. You were like, so confident. Like you were completely sure of yourself. I didn’t realize that maybe you were not so confident until...”
Tommy’s throat feels like it’s closing. There’s no going back, even if he wants to go back to the surface and check on the remaining damage. He wants to see who’s left, but maybe he’s better off not knowing. His stomach still hasn’t recovered from earlier.
“Where are we going?” Tommy asks, changing the subject.
“There’s another end portal,” Ranboo says solemnly. “Dream found this one, and the others are already waiting.”
Something isn’t adding up. They would’ve known if there was a stronghold underneath L’Manburg, so why would one appear now?
“We’re still surrounded by stone,” Tommy points out, confused. “I don’t see a stronghold.”
“I didn’t say stronghold,” Ranboo corrects. “I said end portal.” They finally come to a stop, and Tommy can see the glowing purple rising up from the ground. There’s more light here, too. It takes Tommy a moment to realize they’re near the hole. A couple steps forward and he could look up at the night sky.
Tommy rushes for Wilbur, wrapping his arms around him tightly. He holds back a sob, but can’t stop the trembling.
“We need to do this now,” Dream interrupts. The man pulls out a book, holding it out to Ranboo. It’s not a book Tommy had ever seen before. This one is glowing the same shimmering purple that matches Ranboo’s eyes. The pages all seem to be black, as well.
“Tommy,” Wibur says, nudging him. “You know what this is, right?”
“No?” He shakes his head, looking back and forth between Ranboo and the book. Above them, the dragon roars, blowing its magic down into the hole. “Uh, I think the dragon landed,” he adds.
“Tommy, I’m half enderman,” Ranboo explains. “My homeland is the end, where there is magic there that doesn’t exist here. Magic and creatures and lands and places that...” he trails off. “I had limited access to that magic before. I used this book to summon Wilbur when he was still dead.”
Tommy flinches at how casually Ranboo says that.
“I’d been going to the end for awhile before I got my memories back,” Ranboo continues. “Learning the magic, tapping into it, and taking this book with me. On one of those visits, I bound the dragon to me.”
Lifting an eyebrow, Tommy presses himself to Wilbur again. He’s not liking where this conversation is going, and he’s waiting for someone else to speak up. Any of them, but they’re all watching Ranboo. “Okay?”
“I bound the dragon to me,” Ranboo repeats. “For this exact purpose.” The enderman cracks open the book, flipping through the pages. He moves closer to the portal, and starts chanting.
Oh.
Oh.
That’s why Ranboo’s eyes are now purple. It’s not just the dragon that changed him, it’s the end. Ranboo’s connected to whatever magic flowing through him. Tommy starts to move closer to Ranboo, thinking he can offer comfort.
Techno grabs him this time, tugging him back. “Wait,” Tommy protests. “I just-”
“Tommy it’s okay.” Ranboo stops chanting to smile at Tommy. That’s... not a reassuring smile. The stupid fucker looks sad again. “Tommy, I’ll see you on the other side.”
“Wait, I don’t understand!” Tommy is still struggling against Techno’s grasp, determined to get close to Ranboo. “I can help!”
“Tommy, he needs to destroy the dragon and unleash the end realm for this to work.” Who said that? Techno? Dream? Phil? It could be any of them. For a long moment, Tommy watches as Ranboo starts to glow that same shade of purple, the aura completely surrounding him and almost pulsing. Glancing upward, Tommy can see the same effect happening on the dragon. The dragon is utterly still now, staring down at the group.
No, at Ranboo.
“Wait.” Realization settles on Tommy like a hot wave. Blistering hot and uncomfortable, pooling in his stomach and making him ill. He’s going to throw up.
“Wait,” Tommy repeats, more weakly. He’s being dragged away again as the auras from both enderman and dragon grow even bigger. Ranboo is still chanting, voice echoing even more. He almost seems to lift up off the ground.
“Stop!” Tommy screams. “That’s going to kill him!” He struggles even more fiercely against Techno, who lifts him completely off the ground. “RANBOO, STOP!”
“Tommy, we have to go,” Wilbur whispers frantically. “Please, trust him, alright?”
“I didn’t agree to this!” Tommy sobs. “Ranboo stop! I don’t want this! I don’t want this anymore, alright? We can be a family here, it’ll be okay! Dream can revive everyone, it’s fine, Ranboo stop!”
No one responds. No one’s saying anything because it’s taking the combined effort of the remaining men to keep Tommy from running to Ranboo’s side. Tommy’s sobbing and screaming loudly, reaching out toward Ranboo.
“Ranboo please!” Tommy cries out. “I love you, don’t leave me! Please don’t leave me!”
“I love you too Tommy,” Ranboo says. His voice is a soft whisper that seems to brush against Tommy’s ears. As if he isn’t speaking verbally, but through thoughts and feelings. Tommy swears he can see Ranboo smiling at him. It’s hard to see anything through the tears.
“I’ll see you soon,” comes the second whisper. That’s all Tommy sees before his entire vision is taken over by that same glow.
Tommy hears rumbling, and he can see faint outlines of the others rushing ahead. There’s no telling where they’re going, but Tommy feels static, like his entire being is on the verge of being struck by lightning.
The static feeling seems to increase, growing louder and louder until he can hear nothing but an ear-splitting buzz, and then he’s falling.
Tommy wonders if those are Wilbur’s arms around him, or Ranboo’s.
-----
Reality comes back to him slowly. He’s pretty sure this is what death feels like. Or the afterlife? He doesn’t know.
When Tommy wakes up, he’s laying on a patch of grass. He’s on his side and sprawled out uncomfortably. Next to him is Phil, who’s in process of sitting up. Phil looks around with a grimace, before hauling himself to his feet. When he stands, he then seems to notice Tommy.
“Tommy, you’re okay!” Phil breathes slowly, collapsing back to his knees. He reaches out for Tommy, brushing some dirt out of Tommy’s hair.
Sitting upright, Tommy looks around. “What...”
“We died, Tommy.” Dream moves closer, followed by Techno and Ranboo. “Well, the other version of us died. Look around.”
Tommy does. Ranboo is sitting by him and holding him, already whispering apologies. He can see the SMP before anything was built. There’s the lake where the community house should be, but the building is not there.
They really did reset the world. Tommy can’t tell if they traveled back in time or if they’re in a brand new world. He’s not going to waste time thinking about it when Ranboo is here again, holding him and very much alive.
“The others will arrive,” Dream says softly. “We’ll get this place build up into a nice community. No wars, no...” He looks pained. “None of the bullshit from before will carry over, you have my word.”
“I believe you,” Tommy says, resting his head against Ranboo’s shoulder.
He’s content to sit in silence for a moment, enjoying the small comforts. When their small crowd starts wandering off, presumely to start building shelter, Ranboo nudges Tommy.
“Hey, I think Wilbur’s waiting for you.”
Tommy startles, looking around. He spots Wilbur in the distance, casually resting under a tree. Wilbur looks incredibly relaxed, but he’s smiling in Tommy’s direction. On his chest, Tommy recognizes a small book. He knows that book.
“Hey Boo?” Tommy slowly raises himself to his feet.
“Yeah?” Ranboo’s getting to his feet after Tommy. “Yeah, it’s okay. I’ll build us a temporary shelter okay? We’ll wait for Tubbo, you go spend time with him.” Ranboo nudges Tommy toward Wilbur.
Shooting his best friend a grateful smile, Tommy turns back toward Wilbur, moving closer. Wilbur sits up straighter and pats the ground next to him. Tommy silently obeys, letting out a sigh as Wilbur wraps an arm around Tommy’s shoulders, pulling him closer.
He nuzzles into Wilbur withi a sigh, letting his eyes close. “Is that what I think it is?”
“I made you a promise, did I not?” Wilbur’s voice rumbles, and Tommy hums in response. He may have died, their world might’ve been destroyed, but it had all worked.
He doesn’t know how, only that the end had been involved and everything had ended in some sort of dimension-crumbling chaos.
Thinking about it all gives him a headache.
“Shall we start?” Wilbur continues. Tommy can feel a hand resting on his head, fingers already curling through his hair. It’s comforting, it’s relaxing, and Tommy’s melting into Wilbur. When Wilbur starts reading, his voice is a soft cadence, designed to lull Tommy to sleep.
“Chapter one: Concerning Hobbits,” Wilbur reads.
Whether or not this is his ending or beginning, it doesn’t matter.
He’s home.
#dream smp#dream smp fanfiction#dsmp au#dark!fic#tommyinnit#ranboo#dreamwastaken#wilbur soot#philza#technoblade#death#rebirth#ending#beginnings#reset#long post#miishae writes#thank you for sticking with me!
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Once Upon a December
Chapter 5: Alive or Dead. Who Knows?
A/N: OHMYGOD I finally posted!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’m so happy I’m done with this, it had been plaguing my mind for the past week and now I can sleep well knowing I finished! I’ll try to be quicker with chapter 6. If you want to be tagged or if I forgot you, please send me an ask instead of a comment! Also let me know if you liked it!! Enjoy
Masterlist
Chapter 4 // Chapter 6
Lin felt more than saw Rowan tensing behind her.
She knew some about Lyria and Rowan’s past, and Lyria’s voice was so full of despair at that moment that it was a wonder he hadn’t just gone up to her. If it wasn’t for the arm he kept tightly around her body, maybe Lin would have.
“Please.” She pleaded again as Lin turned quickly to Rowan, catching a flash of his silver hair, and she felt a sharp pain in her brain again.
Just like it had happened in her bedroom moments ago, she felt as if she was being transported to another room. She remembered a woman— a different woman— pleading like Lyria was. She remembered looking down and seeing a torn child’s dress. She remembered turning back quickly and seeing that same flash of silver hair.
The room was the same one she had seen in the mirror, but this time she wasn’t sitting on a pretty vanity. Instead, she was hiding somewhere near the opposite walls of the bedroom. She could feel a slightly bigger hand holding her wrist, but all she could focus was the pretty and small woman standing in the middle of the room, begging for mercy.
Lin wanted to go to her, wanted to help her, but the hand on her wrist was unrelenting.
“Please, leave her alone.” The woman implored, and Lin had the distinction of knowing that voice.
She felt lips that were and weren’t her own forming a single word.
Marion.
The woman’s name had been Marion.
“Fuck.” Rowan whispered, dragging her out of whatever the hell that had been. He turned her in his arms, tilting her head back. “Your nose is bleeding.”
She raised a shaken hand to wipe it away the moment they heard a loud thud coming from where Lyria and the other man were. Both Lin and Rowan turned to where Lyria had been. The men formed a circle around her fallen body, and she raised her head, holding the side of her face. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, shining in the moonlight and against the slap mark, but the rest of her expression showed nothing more than anger and defiance.
“I hope you and your queen burn.” Lyria’s voice held so much hate that when Rowan tensed against her, Lin didn’t know if it was from slight fear or surprise.
The men— most likely Cairn, Cain, Perrignton and one more she couldn’t recognize— remained silent, as if considering what to do with the fallen woman in front of them. They were dangerously near the back door, and Lin was almost trembling from the need to rush to help Lyria. But even with Rowan by her side, they were grossly outnumbered and this could cause the queen’s men to react briskly.
“Fenrys is in this room too.” Rowan bent his head to murmur against Lin’s ear. She didn’t tear her gaze from Lyria, but her attention shifted to Rowan’s words. If Lyria could get up and help, maybe they could fix this. “I need you to go back to the second to last wagon. They keep some coal and explosives there. Scream fire. When they shift their attention, Fen can grab Lyria and we get the hell out of here.”
“That could make them panic and throw Lyria out.” Lin murmured back, but there was no bite or anger to her words. His plan wasn’t bad, it just had too much room for error.
Better than nothing, she supposed.
“You have a better idea?”
“What do we do after? It’s not like they’re just going to give up because we helped her.”
“You have a better idea?” His voice came out harsh, and Lin held her tongue to keep a nasty reply in. This wasn’t the moment for their bantering, even though Lin knew she would bring that up later.
“Very well, Mr. Whitethorn.” She said, taking a small step back. She hadn’t realized how close they had stood, and was thankful for the absolute darkness in their part of the wagon as a soft pink colored her cheeks. She wasn’t used to proximity, to being close to anyone. Sometimes Lys, but that was more of a sisterly embrace— soft and welcoming. Rowan was… imposing. Too intriguing and unreadable at the same time for her liking.
Lin tried her best to keep to the shadows as she tried to exit the room. She could already see the door handle when she made the mistake of looking back. She eyed the alcove where she had been with Rowan, his figure completely hidden. The other one by its side, where she guessed Fenrys was, was just as dark. With her heart strained, she looked at Lyria and the three man.
She turned back to the handle when it hit her, almost making her shake.
Three?
She took in a sharp intake of breath when she felt fingers grabbing her hair, and she immediately knew it wasn’t Rowan. The two times he had grabbed her, it was not with pain as his purpose. Whoever this was, Lin had no doubt he wasn’t like Whitethorn.
The realization didn’t help her at all, the panic rising in her chest as she felt her whole body being pulled back violently. Lin didn’t remember if she had cried out before or after she hit the floor, the fourth man— the one she hadn’t recognized— standing above of her. He stood in front of her, one leg on each side of her body. Despite the fear clawing up her whole soul, Lin hoped neither Rowan nor Fenrys would do something stupid. Hoped they would use the distraction to get Lyria, to help Lyria.
“Who do we have here?” The man’s voice was like a caress, Adarlanian accent mixing beautifully with the Terrasenian one. Lin tried to focus on his face, tried to distinguish any of his features, but her vision was swaying due to the pain and the darkness only made it harder.
“A fucking asshole, if I have judged you correct.” Lin groaned, trying to clear her mind. He was in a compromised position— she wasn’t wearing those big skirts, meaning that she could get a leg through his front, put her other one in the back of his knee and make him fall.
Or a kick in the balls, if she didn’t want to get fancy.
Despite the fact that his face was hidden, Lin knew he was smiling. She saw the silhouette of his head looking up, back at the other three who were terrorizing Lyria. “Any of you know our unexpected guest?”
Lin tried to turn her head slightly, tried to see if Lyria was still ok. The brunette was staring right back at her, fear and anger mixing together. Lin knew the feeling very well. Lin stared at Lyria, hoping she would understand even without words. Silently and almost imperceptibly, Lyria started crawling little by little away from the door as Cain, Cairn and Perrington had their attention on the fourth man. Lin then looked up, realizing that Cairn was also watching her. He gave her a disgusting grin before looking at her assailant. “She was talking to Dunes earlier, Mr. C. The two of them were acting as if friends.”
“Hum, interesting.” The man mused, bending down on Lin. A new sense of panic took over her body, and she felt tears in the back of her eyes. Part of her wanted to start trashing, but the other part was terrified that if she did that, the situation would just get worse for her and Ly.
Some situations forced people to chose between the bad and the terrible, and although Lin hated it, she remained still— body completely tense and one breath away from snapping. Just a few more seconds and maybe Lyria would have crawled away enough to have a fighting chance instead of being thrown out.
“Are you also a traitor then, sweetheart?” He muttered, one hand going down her face.
“Wouldn’t it be boring if I told you that so soon into our interactions, darling?” Lin grunted through clenched teeth, nausea rolling in her stomach.
The guy chuckled, standing up again. Lin released her breath, looking at where Rowan was still hiding. She prayed to the gods a second time in the past ten years that he was staring at her. That, like Lyria, he would understand what she was about to do.
The man in front of her opened his mouth to say something, but he couldn’t get the words out as Lin attacked.
She bent one leg against the back of his knee, bringing her other leg to his front. She half wrapped it around his waist, pulling him backwards as her bent leg pushed him forward. As she had planned, he immediately lost his balance, letting out a yelp as he fell.
But instead of falling to the back as she had wished, Mr. C fell right on top of her. His weight was crushing her down, forcing the breath out of her lungs. Lin’s head started swaying again, vision blurring. He raised himself on his elbows, looking down on her with so much rage that his brown eyes shone.
Her legs and arms were constricted by his body on top of her, so Lin did the only thing she could think of in the moment.
She threw her head forward with as much force as she could. She could feel the blood running down her forehead, and she didn’t know if it was from an injury she caused on herself or the man’s newly broken nose. Behind them, grunting noises and shouts started ringing out, indicating that Fenrys and Rowan— and maybe even Lyria— were trying to deal with Cairn, Cain and Perrignton.
Lin focused back, readying herself to do the same again, hopefully knocking him out, when the man’s body simply disappeared.
Lin closed her eyes forcefully, blinking to get rid of the black dots swimming on her vision. When she could focus again, she realized that the man hadn’t magically disappeared. It had been Rowan.
Rowan pulled the guy back with so much force that he didn’t even get up.
“He was mine, fucker.” Lin grunted when Rowan kneeled by her side.
Despite the darkness, Lin could see him grinning slightly. “Pardon, next time shout dibs.”
She snorted, but any lightheartedness was destroyed by Lyria’s shriek. Lin and Rowan immediately turned their heads to where Lyria and Fenrys were standing, their backs against each other’s. Cain was holding the left side of his face, blood leaking through his fingers. Lyria was holding a small knife with her shaken hand while the other was gripping Fenrys’s pinky and ringer finger. He had one gun pointed at Cairn, but Perrignton had one pointed at Lyria.
Fuck.
Lin nudged Rowan’s arm, and he spared her one more glance before standing up and carefully walking up to them, raising his own gun at Perrignton.
Lin’s heart was beating wildly, her headache and blurry vision making everything worse. She tried getting up, legs weak under her, hands sweating and shaking. She noticed the blood dripping down her chin, either from her earlier nosebleed or the new injury on her forehead. Lin slumped against the wall when she finally got up, breathing in and out a few times before daring to take a step. The wagon was eerily quiet, each person pointing their guns or knives at each other.
This was going to end terribly, Lin knew.
She had to help however, in whatever way she could. Because she was in her nightgown, she couldn’t have brought her daggers with her, and guns were too expensive for her to ever consider buying one. Even empty handed, Lin straightened her back and started walking in Rowan’s direction. She could see if he had a spare weapon, a knife maybe, anything that would give her some advantage.
Before she could even reach them, she felt a hand on her shoulder violently turning her around. Immediately, Lin felt a fist connecting with the right side of her face, and she coughed some blood while looking up. Apparently Rowan hadn’t completely knocked Mr. C out if he was up and ready to give her a beating so fast. She straightened again, raising her fists limply. Her head was pounding, and not in the way it had been minutes ago while she walked to the last wagon on the train.That pounding had been different, more complex than this simple and agonizing pain.
Lin curled her lips at the brown-eyed man, her upper lip stinging.
“Fucking bitch.” He spat.
“My six foot five friend over there knocked you out, not me.” Lin said, forcing a sarcastic smile on her lips. Her face was throbbing, and she probably had a split lip and would get a huge bruise on her right side. “Why don’t you deal with him?”
“Tell your friends to lower their guns.” He almost growled, taking a step on her direction.
“Tell your friends to lower theirs.” She stared right at him. Now that they were standing in the middle of the wagon, the moonlight filtering through the back door allowed her to study his features. He had a soft tan skin, brown hair to match with his brown eyes. Powerfully built, average in height. Absolutely normal, the type of person Lin would never guess was someone dangerous. They remained in silence, the group behind them still closer to the door and barely breathing.
Lin had to think fast, especially because the chance of someone else taking a midnight stroll to the last wagons was almost none. They would have no help, and no one would hear anything either. Behind them there was no other wagon, in front was a storage room with coal and explosives according to Rowan.
An idea— stupid and absolutely reckless— sparkled inside her mind.
She took a small step forward, forcing her head to clear out. She needed all her attention for this, and so much could go wrong that the addition of a headache would only worsen things. Despite trying to remain calm, her heart was galloping, the sound deafening against her ears. She was about to put her life, as well as her other three companions, in danger. She couldn’t care less for the queen’s men.
“Very well.” Lin suddenly said, and although they had their backs to each other, Lin knew Rowan was paying attention to her words. Lyria and Fenrys too, she supposed. “Ro, the gun.”
Lin had to admit, Rowan Whitethorn was a fucking prick, yes, but a godsdamned smart prick.
And absolutely reckless if he was just going on board with whatever Lin was coming up with.
Lin moved at the same time Rowan’s gunshot sounded out. She had hoped he would understand what she meant when she called him Ro— something only the cadre did as far as she was concerned. She barely called him Rowan, and so by calling him Ro he understood that he was supposed to do the absolute contrary of what she had implied.
The man in front of her was shocked by Rowan’s reaction for a second, and Lin used it wisely. She elbowed him on the throat, her fist connecting with his nose as he doubled over. It had been broken when she hit her head against his, so hopefully the pain would be unbearable right now.
Lin didn’t dare to turn around to see how Rowan, Fenrys and Lyria were doing. Eventual gunshots sounded, but there was no indication of a body falling against the ground. Grunts, shouts and curses filled the wagon as Lin grabbed her assailant by the hair and kneed him in the throat again. He felt to the ground, hands gripping his neck as he coughed uncontrollably.
Lin ran to the connecting door, body screaming in pain as she threw it open and rushed to the other wagon.
It was lighter than the other one, windows all around illuminating the piles of coal. There were sheets covering some boxes, and Lin started frantically looking through them.
She found some matchboxes, holding one strongly in her hand as she looked for the last thing she needed. She almost cried in relief when she found a small box with three explosives.
“Oh, thank the fucking gods.” Lin sighed, getting up again. Her steps were unbalanced, both by her bodily soreness and hazy mind. She had to stop for a second, fearing going back to the last wagon. She was to cross the train connection again, and she hadn’t even worried about that when adrenaline was rushing through her veins. But now that it was fading, Lin was very much aware of the gap between the doors, the fast moving train and her inability to even walk straight. She looked forward, vision swaying but not blurry.
Lin held the door’s threshold, taking a big step. Maybe she would start being religious, based on the amount of prayers she sent to the gods in those five seconds that she needed to enter the last wagon again.
She half ran, half limped in Rowan’s direction. He had lost his gun, as had Perrington, and now both were just rolling on the ground, the punches they were throwing reverberating through the room. Lyria still had a grip on her knife, her back against the wall but hand raised to make sure Cain wouldn’t take one more step. Like Rowan, Fenrys and Cairn were brawling, Fenrys’s face sprayed with blood, his knuckles bleeding.
Lin looked around the room, looking for…
She sighed, holding the matches and explosives strongly. “Can’t you fucking stay down?”
Mr. C chuckled, taking a limping step towards her. It didn’t take one second before he tried to connect his fist with her face again, but this time Lin actually managed to dodge. Her clenched left fist hit him in the stomach at the same time he elbowed her right wrist.
The pain shot through her arm and hand, forcing her to drop the matches and explosive. The matches remained still, but the explosive rolled until the back of the wagon, almost falling through the back door.
Shit shit shit shit
She took her mind away from the fact that her only plan was in the back of the room now, focusing on blocking the blows the man in front of her wasted no time delivering.
“Cain!” The man shouted as he tried to hit Lin’s side with a right hook. He jerked his head to the connecting door, and through the corner of her eye Lin saw Cain leaving Lyria alone and rushing to the other wagon.
Lyria ran in Fenrys’s direction, slicing Cairn’s arm open as it was raised to punch Fenrys in the face.
Lin’s attention remained on them for a second too long. A second that caused her to receiver a smack against the throat, her guts constricting and allowing no oxygen in. She blinked the tears away, mouth open to get as much air as she could. She couldn’t stop, not now. She had to get him down, had to get to the fucking explosive.
“Perrington! Cairn!” Mr. C shouted, blocking a kick Lin tried to connect to his side.
They— Lin, Rowan, Lyria and Fenrys— were too busy fighting to realize what was happening. Cairn let go of Fenrys only to push Lyria so forcefully that her back and head slammed against the wall. Fenrys was immediately there, holding her in his arms. Turning his back to Cairn was a stupid move, but Lin knew that Fenrys’s complete attention was focused on the brunette in his arms.
Perrignton elbowed Rowan’s face, and Lin almost cringed at the sound of his silver head against the floor. There was some blood contrasting against the silver, and Lin’s stomach rolled. Just like Cain, Perrignton and Cairn ran to the other wagon.
“No.” Lin breathed.
At that, Mr. C smiled and kneed her in the stomach. Lin fell to her knees as she watched him follow his companions. “It’s a shame you must die. You seem interesting enough.”
Mr. C strolled to the other wagon, whistling. Lin grounded her teeth and got up, following him. He was already reaching the door that would take him back to the rooms compartments when Lin finally managed to leave the last wagon and enter the storage one. Regardless of the distance between them, Lin saw him smiling as he lit a single match.
And let said match drop on coal and the sheets she had thrown around. Almost immediately everything started catching on fire, and Lin didn’t know if she should focus on the flames or on the man slamming the door after him as he left.
“Did he just set fire to the train?” Lyria said from behind her. Lin looked back, seeing the brunette resting against Fenrys’s side on the other side of the train gap. Her eyes were wide, body trembling. “He’s going to kill everyone. He just fucking set fire to the train.”
As if her words had caused it, Lin had to hold herself against the threshold to not fall forward into the flames or backward into the gap. If she had fallen in the gap, it would take seconds for her to fall over the train and… well, die. The train had been completely shook, and Lin understood what had happened seconds later.
She stepped on the gap, cranking her neck to look to the front of the train. Her stomach rolled at her position, but she kept looking until her suspicions were confirmed.
“He detached the last two wagons from the front of the train.” She breathed, the flames now consuming the front wagon making her sweat. “Oh, gods.”
She only noticed how bad the fire had become when the flames licked her fingers. The hand she had against the threshold, holding her up so she wouldn’t fall off the train, felt as if it was burning. And so, stupidly, Lin let go of her grip with a pained shriek.
She only realized her mistake when she felt as if she was starting to fall.
Fucking gods, she was going to die in the most idiotic manner possible.
Lin closed her eyes, praying that dying wasn’t that painful when she felt a big and warm hand against her arm. She was pulled into the back wagon, hitting a man’s chest. His arms wrapped around her, and Lin wasn’t sure who was shaking more. When she looked up, Rowan was staring at her with both disbelief and anger. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”
“If you saved me to be a pain in the ass, you can just throw me back out.” Lin hissed, trying to cross her arms even if Rowan’s chest was pressed against hers. She was in the brink of death, but arguing with Rowan gave her some normalcy.
“Not to interrupt this beautiful moment between the future couple,” Fenrys said. “But can we take care of the imminent death first?”
“Fuck.” Rowan cursed, taking a few steps in the back wagon. Despite not being attached to the train, they were going extremely fast and this would kill them in the first curve.
That is, if the fire didn’t do so first.
Lyria had entered one alcove, coming back with a small hammer and pickax. Rowan immediately picked them up from her, jumping in the gap and starting to use the hammer to detach the pin holding the two wagons together. He barely did the second motion when the hammer broke, forcing him to use the pickax. “Come on! There’s gotta be something better than this in there!”
Fenrys and Lyria entered the other alcove, looking for a stronger tool. Lin, on the other hand, went straight for the explosives near the back door. She ran to Rowan, grabbing the matchbox as she went back. She lit the explosive, handing it to Rowan when the pickax also broke.
He stared at it for a second before shrugging, brows furrowed. “That will work.” He said, putting it in a hole in the gap. He jumped back to the wagon, rushing Lin to the furthest place from the connecting door. They crouched there, Fenrys and Lyria running to their direction and doing the same behind them.
“What the fuck do they teach you in those orphanages?” Rowan turned to Lin, incredulous.
Lin was about to answer when the loud sound reverberated, indicating that it had exploded. They raised their heads, watching as the wagon on fire disconnected from theirs.
Lin sighed in relief, even though they still had one problem to worry about.
“How the fuck are we going to stop?” Lyria asked, resting again against Fenrys. She closed her eyes, and Lin thought that she probably had hit her head pretty bad when Cairn threw her against the wall. Fenrys sat down with her, his arm around her shoulder.
Rowan stared at them for a second before turning away. He went directly to a chain pile resting on the ground. He grabbed it by one of the hooks, leaving it near the back door as he stepped out.
Lin shouted after him, running to the back door as well. She saw Rowan holding himself up by one arm, extending the other one. “Fenrys, give me the chain!” He shouted, and Lin immediately grabbed it and handed it to him. He raised his eyes to her, nose scrunching. “Not you.”
“Fenrys is busy.”
“I don’t trust you near train doors anymore.”
She rolled her eyes. “Just take the fucking chain, asshole!”
Rowan sighed, but he grabbed it. Lin saw him lowering himself, his head inches away from the tracks. He lopped the chain on the under part of the train, pulling it to make sure it was completely attached.
Some small parts of the underside of the train fell, going straight to Rowan’s face. Out of instinct, Lin reached forward, grabbing Rowan’s hand and pulling him inside.
He fell on top of her, panting hard. Lin was panting just as hard, and when she looked up at him, he was staring down on her. She looked at him a second too long before shoving him away.
“Get off of me!”
“I’m trying!” He grunted, sitting down. They both looked outside the back of the wagon, seeing the broken pieces of the train spiked against the wooden trails.
“And to think that could’ve been you.” She mused as they got up.
“If we live through this,” Rowan was saying as Lin turned her back and looked at Lyria’s direction to check on the girl. “Remind me to thank you.”
Lin snorted, kneeling again to push the other side of the chain off of the train. Rowan did the same, and they silently watched as the chain uncurled and uncurled until the anchor at the end of it caught in one of the wooden trails. The thing must have been so old that it completely broke, metal and wood disconnecting from the ground. Lin heard Lyria screaming, as well as Fenrys’s curses.
The wagon spun to the side, tilting slightly. Rowan put his arms around Lin’s body— one covering her back and the other one her head. She burrowed her face on his chest, closing her eyes as the wagon shook violently.
Shook, and shook and shook.
But each time slower.
It must have been the most stressful minute in Lin’s life, and when the wagon finally came to a full stop, she could almost cry of relief.
She kept her head against Rowan’s chest, too exhausted and pained to even move. The adrenaline in her body had ended, and now everything seemed heavy.
“I should have told the six of you to fuck off a week ago.” Lin complained.
She felt Rowan’s chest trembling with small laughter. “Yeah, you should have.”
They remained in silence for a while, each taking their time to recompose themselves.
“You can do it now.” Lin said, sitting up. She looked at Rowan, realizing his furrowed brows.
“Do what?”
“Thank me. You said if we survived you’d thank me.” She crossed her arms, looking around before letting her gaze fall back at him. They were in the middle of fucking nowhere, trees and more trees extending for miles. “So thank me. Also notice that I am incredible.”
Rowan’s jaw fell slightly, but he quickly recovered himself and rolled his eyes. “Thank you for being a decent human being, Ace.”
Lin was going to smile, was going to reply with a snarky comment when she saw two figures coming from the forest. They were all dressed in black from head to toe, impossible to recognize. They walked cautiously in the wagon’s direction, looking around to see if there was anyone else other than the four people inside.
When they both raised their guns, Lin simply sighed, raising her hands. “Here we fucking go again.”
————————
Aedion Ashryver was not a happy person.
He wasn’t unhappy, he just wasn’t happy either. Maybe somewhere in the middle.
In his opinion, happiness was a conjunction of many aspects. One of them was hope, and Aedion had lost that ten years ago when his kingdom was conquered and his cousin murdered.
Aelin had been his best friend, his confident. Despite the age difference, they had been inseparable and Aedion was closer to her than he was to anyone else. They were like brother and sister, always together. Losing Aelin had broken something so fundamental inside of him that he didn’t believe he could ever be truly happy again.
Until he met Lysandra.
Not in the way that Lysandra would substitute Aelin, or in the sense that they would fall madly in love and she would bring the light back to his life. No, Lysandra had changed everything because she possessed the most important information he could ever wish for.
Aelin was alive.
His little cousin, the person he swore to protect had been alive these ten years, living in a piss poor orphanage while he acted brooding in a beautiful palace in Banjali. The day he discovered it, when Lysandra had a photo of Aelin to prove what she was saying, Aedion had vomited his guts out. Vomited as he imagined his eight year old cousin alone, thrown in an orphanage and treated like shit. Vomited as he imagined what she must have gone through, what she had to learn in order to survive. He vomited because for every miserable day in her life that she managed to survive, he had been an ungrateful brat.
Mourning, anger and embarrassment clawed their way into his mind and heart, and Aedion couldn’t stop thinking about it, couldn’t stop wishing he had done something. He had taken too long, but he wouldn’t sit around and do nothing no more.
Aedion Ashryver was going to get his cousin back, and they would make up for the lost time.
He might normally have been an arrogant prick, but even he knew when to ask for help.
And Lysandra was the only person who actually knew Aelin. Knew her ways, her thinking, her tells and how she operated. If Aedion had any chance of finding his cousin in all Erilea, he would need the girl who had become Aelin’s sister during the past ten years. Convincing her hadn’t been that hard; Lys was as eager to find Aelin again as Aedion was. So, the following day when Aedion went back to that terrible bar and paid for Yrene and Lys’s debts, Lysandra didn’t hesitated in agreeing to help him.
Now, a week later, he was sitting in a small office, starring at the two men in front of him. Lysandra and Irene were standing behind him, both of them quiet. Aedion couldn’t let Yrene remain in that terrible place, so he offered her the same thing he had offered Lysandra: help me find my cousin. Yrene had immediately accepted, shocked to discover that the lost princess of Terrasen wasn’t that lost anymore.
“We need a guide.” Aedion said, shrugging. “You’re a famous detective, have travelled all around Erilea. You know people, and you know places. So, tell me, why wouldn’t I want you helping me?”
“It will be expensive.” The one sitting down said, his voice calm and cool. The man standing behind of him hand’t opened his mouth since they had come in, but he eyed Aedion, Irene and Lysandra suspiciously.
“Money is not a problem, I can assure.” Lysandra said for the umpteenth time. Aedion almost turned and thanked her for stepping in. If he had to say those words again, he might attack the man on the other side of the table. “We will pay you half now, half when we find her.”
“And who are we looking for, exactly?”
“Aelin Ashryver Galathynius.” Lys said, as Aedion was resting against the back of his chair. “We have concrete proof she is alive and well, but we do not know where.”
The man sitting down crossed his hands on top of the table, launching forward. He eyed Aedion, and then Yrene and then Lysandra with infinite and new interest. And when Dorian Havilliard smiled, Aedion knew he had gotten what he wanted.
“I never say no to an adventure, milady. And finding the lost princess sounds like a pretty good one for me.”
Aedion smiled at Lysandra, seeing her heart shaped face smiling back at her. She winked at him with her right almond shaped eye, and Aedion’s grin widened further.
This was going to be interesting and, when he got his cousin back, all of this would be happy.
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#anastasia!rowaelin au#rowaelin#rowaelin fanfiction#rowaelin au#rowaelin fanfic#rowanaelin#rowan whitethorn#aelin ashryver galathynius#fenrys moonbeam#lyria#lyria dune#duke perrington#cairn#cain#tog#throne of glass#throne of glass fanfiction#throne of glass au#throne of glass fanfic#OUAD#OUAD 5#once upon a december#dorian havilliard#yrene towers#lysandra ennar#aedion ashryver#aelin and rowan#rowan x aelin#writing process#my writing
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Anything with John or Tommy. Filth is good. Fluff is too!
Safety - John Shelby x Reader
Possible TW: assault, violence, graphic depictions
A/N: Okay so I just realized I haven't written a single goddamn John Shelby request on this wHOLE BLOG????? I know there's a need for smut out there, but I'm allowed to go fluffy for this one and I think my first one of our sweet John has to be just that!
Taglist: @sweetiekokkiri @haphazardhufflepuff @tarafaithe @mrsstevenbuchananstark @imagine-richards @hxnky-cat
*****
"Hey."
You rolled your eyes at your drink before looking up. At least it wouldn't hit on you.
"I'm not interested."
"All I said was hey. Give me a chance!" the man, sloshing his booze all over the counter, sat down hard on the stool beside you.
"I'm not interested." you repeated, starting a dangerous game by then looking away from him.
You were a woman alone at the bar and had been turning down men for a while now as you just tried to forget your past. You didn't think it was some extraordinary beauty you had, but rather it was that the men of Birmingham had become more brazen with their lack of control.
"You like to play hard to get, huh? I bet those other guys didn't see that in you, did they? Come on, a woman only sits at a bar alone when she wants a man to bring her home." he continued as if you'd said nothing, and moved into your personal space.
His hand went to your knee, and you immediately had to restrain the urge to vomit. Of the men who'd come on to you tonight, he was the first one to touch you that inappropriately. You shoved his hand away, and then wiped yours on your skirt. Anger began to boil in your chest.
"I said no. If you touch me again, you'll regret it." you snapped, hand subconsciously sliding to your gin glass.
"You like it." he slurred, grinning. The man grabbed the back of your head as if to force you to kiss him.
You immediately slammed the glass into his head before his mouth could get anywhere near yours, spraying glass everywhere and cutting your hand. Body racing with adrenaline and fear, you jumped off the stool and ran for the doors.
"Fuck!" you got out, pushing open the gilded door of The Garrison and going out into the cool night. The crisp air did nothing to ease your panic or the pain in your palm.
"Hey!" the creep yelled furiously behind you. Blood was running down his cheek, which gave you a small kick of satisfaction.
"Leave me alone!" you yelled back, placing all your bets on a group of well dressed men standing around a Bentley. Last time you ran from a man like him, you had never stopped running.
"You just came outta the Garrison?" the tallest of the three asked. He ran the back of his hand over his mouth and mustache and then cracked his knuckles.
"Here we go." the one with his hat pulled low muttered.
Recognition blossomed in your head. These were the infamous Shelby brothers. What were their names again?
"Yes. He tried to kiss me so I broke a glass over his head." you got out, breathless. You shook your hand as if it would help ease the pain. It just splattered more blood onto the gravel.
"You're gonna let her come with me if you know what's good for you." the asshole from the bar growled, pulling out a knife as he finally got near.
"Arthur." the man still leaning against the car warned as the taller brother inched forward.
"She's my date. We just had a disagreement is all. She's coming with me." the man continued, lunging forward and grabbing you by the arm. You yelped in pain as his fingers pressed hard enough to bruise.
Before anyone else could move, he held the blade to your neck. He ordered, "Stay back. I don't want trouble with you lot."
"You're talking to the Peaky fuckin' Blinders." the third man finally spoke up. He took the toothpick from the corner of his mouth and flicked it away. In the next moment, he pulled a gun and cocked it.
"You can't shoot me fast enough to save her." the man sneered, shifting so his body was behind yours and out of the line of fire. You pulled futilely at his arm to try and keep the knife away.
Anger resurfacing at the sheer audacity this man had, you realized that only you could get yourself out of this. The Blinders had been a good gamble, your only gamble, but now it wasn't going to pay off. You didn't want to run any more. At least, not from him.
With one hand, you shoved his arm as hard as you could. With the other, you reached behind you and mashed your fingers against the cuts you'd made on his face.
He started screaming. The gun went off. You were falling.
"No." you rasped out, curling up as soon as you hit the gravel. You pressed a hand to your side and it came away sticky with blood.
The loud thudding you thought was in your head was in fact Arthur and the third brother kicking the shit out of your attacker. You were vaguely aware that the quiet one was at your side.
"I'll bring her to the hospital. Deal with him." the man ordered, gently pulling you up.
You pleaded, "No! No hospital. Please! He'll find me."
"Alright. John, give me a hand. We're bringing her inside." he corrected.
The one called John immediately broke away and scooped you into his arms. You whimpered into his shoulder, "You shot me."
He snorted, but said nothing as he carried you right back inside the Garrison. You groaned as every step pulled on your wound. Your fingers clutched hard at his previously pristine suit jacket. Knowing your luck, you'd probably have to pay him for it if you survived this night.
Suddenly, you found yourself lying flat on a table in some back room. What the hell? Did you black out?
"Hey! Stay awake, alright? What's your name?" the brother whose name you didn't know was trying to hold your attention. His hat had come off at some point and you were struck by how blue his eyes were.
"Y/N." you said, realizing he was expecting you to answer.
"Alright, Y/N, you're going to talk to John while I sew you shut. How does that sound?" he told you, switching places with his brother.
You nodded as he went to get thread and a needle, "Okay."
"Hello, lovely. I'm John." the man said, giving you a small smile. You weren't sure if it was the pain driving you crazy, but he seemed to be the most beautiful man you'd ever seen. Maybe you'd already died?
"You shot me." you got out again, figuring you couldn't be dead if you were in this much pain.
He smirked as he propped you up slightly, "Come on, I'm a better shot than that. The fucker just stuck you on the way down. Don't worry, it's not that deep. And he missed anything important."
"Except for me." you grumbled, trembling as John put a bottle to your lips and had you drink. He laughed as you coughed on whatever booze was in the bottle, and laid you back down.
"This is going to hurt. Unfortunately we don't have any morphine, so try not to pass out." the unnamed brother spoke up, taking the alcohol from John.
John pressed a roll of cloth between your teeth, "Bite down on this. Focus on me, sweetheart. It'll only take a minute but it'll hurt like hell. Tommy is good at this sort of thing, so don't you worry."
At least he was honest. As soon as the alcohol touched the wound, a scream erupted from your throat. You bit down as hard as you could on the cloth as tears sprung to your eyes.
"Hey, look at me. When this is all over, I'll buy you a proper drink alright? No one like that will ever come near you again if you're seen with me. Okay? Does that sound nice?" John spoke gently, taking your good hand in his.
You nodded tearfully as Tommy tediously stitched you up. You latched onto what he said about no man coming near you like that again. That was all you ever wanted.
Sooner than you hoped, Tommy was done. Your side still burned, but it seemed to be leveling out. Maybe you'd make it after all.
"When you can get up, drinks are on the house. I'm sorry you had this experience in our pub." Tommy said, cleaning up the supplies he'd used.
"Thanks. I owe you a debt, now." you told him sincerely, knowing he didn't have to do this. He could have taken you to a hospital anyway, despite your wishes.
He nodded, then left the room.
"Why didn't you want to go to the hospital?" John asked curiously, shedding his jacket. He grabbed fresh gauze and then gestured for your hand.
Something told you to trust him. It was probably delirium, but you wanted to think it was fate. You chose not to run for the first time, and that had to mean something.
You let him take your hand in his, "The first boyfriend I ever had became my stalker. He wouldn't leave me alone even after I dumped his ass, so I've been on the run since. Moved from my whole life in America just to be rid of him. I know he probably didn't think to look for me outside the country, but I can't risk it."
John just listened intently as he wrapped your hand, and you watched his jaw clench in anger. Some distant part of your mind wanted to trace his jaw with your fingers.
"I meant what I said."
"About what?"
"You stick with me, and you'll be safe from men like them. I know what it's like to never relax." he admitted, finishing with your hand. He didn't let go.
For once, you weren't afraid of the unknown. For once, you felt a spark of hope. A man was offering you solace instead of fear. You asked, "You do?"
"Yeah. Us Shelbys are always at war with someone." he said, smirking.
You gently put your fingers through his as you thought of the reputation the Peaky Blinders had, "Sounds dangerous."
"Absolutely."
"How would I know you could keep me safe?" you wondered. Maybe to fend off a predator, you had to be a bigger one. A stronger one, with a pack.
"Because we're the Peaky Blinders. No one messes with us unless we give 'em permission." he told you, his chin tilting up with pride.
"I like the sound of that." you told him, a weak smile coming onto your face for the first time in years.
"Good. Now, get some rest. We'll tell Tommy tomorrow that you're staying. We could always use some help in the office, anyway. Can't say no to that." he said, placing his jacket over you for some warmth.
"Will you stay?" you wondered, trying not to sound as desperate as you felt.
He pulled up a chair, "Yeah. Yeah, I will. Johnny's got you."
You finally drifted off to sleep. And despite having been stabbed, you slept better than you had in years.
#john shelby#john shelby x reader#tommy shelby#thomas shelby#arthur shelby#the garrison#peaky blinder fanfic#peaky blinder imagine#peaky blinders#request#imagine
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Enchanted Shackles
Summary: When Virgil, a Shifter, is wrongly imprisoned for something he didn’t do, he has to pay the consequences of another’s actions. Except for the fact that he’s sick and tired of the whole charade and is ready to do just about anything to get out.
Warnings: Virgil’s a bit morally grey (I wouldn’t go so far as to say unsympathetic, but correct me if I’m wrong!), swearing, minor injuries, main character wrongly imprisoned, non-consensual drug use, slight manipulation (gets quickly resolved), panic attack, brief mention of death, fear, threatening language, brief mention of eating someone, mention of violent behaviour.
Characters: Virgil, Logan, Patton, Janus (mentioned but not present.)
Word Count: 6912 words.
——————————
The chains around his wrists were beginning to chafe. The sensitive skin beneath them was turning a brilliant red and Virgil was tempted to just throw his head back against the stone wall (again) and knock himself out. However, doing that would only lower his chance of actually escaping this dump more. He had already managed to shatter the chains around his ankles once before those were reinforced, so there had to be another way out.
There had to be.
Staying here, locked up for the rest of his life—imprisoned for something he didn’t even damn well do—was not a comforting nor attractive idea.
Not to mention, if the damned cuffs weren’t enchanted, he would have been able to shift right out of this mess. Unfortunately, he wasn’t that lucky.
When was he ever that lucky?
The sound of a metal door clanging open drew Virgil’s attention up to where a small platform sat suspended about twenty feet above where he was currently stuck sitting. It was where people talked at him—well, talked was being generous. It was usually some pretentious asshole in a white lab coat and thick black glasses lecturing him, explaining that as soon as he admitted his wrongdoing and was deemed “safe,” he would be released from this prison.
As soon as he realized it was exactly who he thought it was, his lip curled up into a sneer. A mocking smile, if you will. “Well, if it isn’t the head fucker’s lapdog. Come to tell me how awful a living creature I am? ‘Cause I’m already well aware of that.”
“Your name calling is childish,” the scientist said, pushing his glasses up with the end of his pen, scribbling something on his clipboard. “So, I will ignore it and we can continue this like the civilized people we are.”
“Please,” Virgil snorted, his eyes moving to scan the chains connected to his shackles. They looked as if they were melded into the ceiling. However, he knew they were attached to a pulley and lever system. So, if he got too rowdy or too close to grabbing one of their own, they could flip the switch and his range of motion would be instantly limited.
Basically, if he was anything but cooperative with their degrading words and tests and was vocal about it, he got his chains tightened and moving was far harder than it should be.
Virgil assumed that their next step was a muzzle. He snorted humourlessly at the visual that created.
The scientist seemed to be preoccupied with whatever he was doing, so Virgil gave another test tug on the chains. Seeing if they creaked the same way the had done before. It was what had given him the idea that he could break them in the first place. The way that if he pulled hard enough, there would be the sound of something squealing and creaking and snapping above him. That had made the place go into lock down.
Lights flashing, sirens blaring, ringing harshly through the metal and cement room uncomfortably.
People shouting orders, barking sentences over intercoms. Scampering behind the thick glass that protected them. It was a viewing area out of his reach, but very much in his line of sight.
He’d never seen these fuckers so frightened for their safety.
And rightfully so. Virgil wasn’t thrilled to be here. He hadn’t done anything wrong!Gotten mixed up with the wrong crowd maybe, but nothing that should have warranted this as his punishment.
God, Janus was gonna kill him.
“We just want answers,” the man said, coming a bit closer to the hand railing, peering down at Virgil as though he wasn’t a threat. That made something stiffen within him.
He was very much a threat when he wanted to be.
“Then get the right fucking guy,” Virgil snarled back instead, tugging at the chains again, this time with a bit more force behind it. He was certainly testing the waters, see how far he could push this man before he broke and left through the same door he entered from.
They had seen each other a handful of times. This one was the seventh person to try and get a statement out of him.
The others had broken within hours. A single pull on the chains, a kick against the wall that shook them to their core, hissing, baring his teeth. The list went on. It was his main source of entertainment at this point. The faster he broke someone’s resolve or spirit, the more likely he would be able to find a way out of this hellhole.
Virgil was just biding his time at this point.
He had a plan, he just needed to find a way to act it out.
Though, there were a few different options he had in mind.
There was this one scientist that came in to talk to him. A young man named Patton Foster.
Bright, shining blue eyes, circular glasses and a trustfully bleeding heart. He was kindly and understanding and everything that he shouldn’t be in a place like this, or dealing with a person like Virgil. Patton had also been kind enough to tell him that he and another scientist, named Logan Collins, were good friends.
A crucial detail that should not have been shared.
Virgil had also nailed down when exactly his friend came around. It was usually when he was acting despondent. Not eating, not talking, not hydrating. Whoever ran this place obviously thought that he needed to be socialized for this whole experiment and confessional to work.
Thus, they had settled on a naive and easily manipulated young man.
Probably not their wisest choice.
If he could just get both Patton and Logan out here at the same time and be on his best enough behaviour (to ensure that his chains were as loose as they would go) he could make a grab for one of them and use them as collateral over the other.
It wasn’t exactly sitting well with his morality, but a guy had to do what a guy had to do.
Besides, it wasn’t like he was going to hurt him.
“We have all the necessary evidence that pits everything against you,” the scientist said, so nonchalantly it made Virgil’s blood boil. How he couldn’t be bothered to even listen to him.
“You only heard his side of the story,” the Shifter spat, dark eyes blazing with heat, almost daring the other to say something against him. “You never asked for mine.”
“On the contrary,” he insisted. “We have been asking ever since you came here.”
“Oh, fuck you.” Virgil scrunched his nose in obvious displeasure, his hands clenched enough he could feel his nails biting into his palms. “You fucking humans think you know everything about me and what happened. You know jack shit.”
“Once again, I feel the need to remind you of all the evidence we have managed to collect on this subject,” he said, tapping his pen against the clipboard, as if he was pointing to something too small for Virgil to read. “Not to mention everyone that testifies against you.”
“Ever heard of bribing?” He snipped, rolling his eyes and settling against the stone wall at his back. “Framing someone for something they didn’t damn well do?”
The scientist let out a resigned sigh. “Seems we’ve reached the end of our session then since you continue to be uncooperative. And yet again, we are no closer to you admitting that you are very much in the wrong.”
“I’ll admit I’m in the wrong when I’m dead,” Virgil tilted his head the other way, glaring at the slate grey that surrounded him. “Eat shit, lapdog.”
He had been more than tempted to kick the stone wall and send the scientist to his knees, where he belonged, but just barely refrained.
It would only put him higher on the facility’s shit list.
The sound of footsteps clicking away from him proved that the scientist was indeed leaving. As soon as he heard the door slide shut and he was left with his thoughts, Virgil relaxed completely.
He let his head rest against the wall, his eyes fluttering shut. The longer he sat in wait, the longer this whole thing would take.
It was time to pull at some heartstrings and use that weakness to his advantage.
—
It took a couple days.
Of course, when people say “Rome wasn’t built in a day,” they really meant it.
If Virgil had tried to rush through the process, it was far more possible to gain yet another failure.
Patience was a virtue.
(Even if his patience was wearing very, very thin.)
((You try being constantly degraded and treated like a villain every single day and not lose your temper once or twice.))
The chains connected to his wrists were the loosest they were ever going to be and that put the little platform directly in reach. They hadn’t thought that part out very well, but since he had never made a grab for anyone before, it hadn’t needed to be a concern.
He had also stopped eating, responding, doing anything remotely interesting, truthfully. Didn’t snark back, swear, kick the wall hoping to knock the scientists on their asses to elicit a fleeting moment of pleasure. He was completely complacent by their standards. Which was exactly what he needed them to think.
Even though his stomach was beginning to cramp on him, incredibly unhappy about this development, he needed to ignore it. Besides, starving himself was better than trying to choke down whatever mush they gave him.
The sound of a door sliding open made Virgil’s eyes flutter open, flickering up toward the platform.
There was a rush of relief when Patton stood at the railing, leaning over it as he glanced down at the Shifter. There was a worried look painted across the small features. “What’s gotten into you lately, bud?”
Bud. Virgil nearly snorted at the nickname. They weren’t friends. Maybe the term of endearment made Patton feel better when interacting with a being so much bigger than himself. Not mention had the power to change his size at will when not being held captive.
Virgil was still unsure if anyone in this facility knew he was a Shifter. Or if they had just enchanted the shackles around his wrists and ankles to keep them from shattering like glass again.
Though, if Virgil needed to play the victim to pull at the exact heartstrings he needed, then fine. He could play the victim. He dropped his eyes to the slate grey floor. “…it’s stupid.”
Acting so weak was a tad frustrating though, he would admit that.
“It’s not stupid,” Patton chimed in softly. “You’re starving yourself. Obviously something is wrong and it’s not stupid.”
“It’s just…hard,” the Shifter finally said, intertwining his hands and letting them rest in his lap. As long as no one saw his hands as a threat, this should work without a hitch. Being completely incapacitated was hard enough, especially when Professional Asshole made his daily rounds.
“What is?”
“Being villainized, every single day.” Virgil kept his attention anywhere other than Patton. “I honestly didn’t do anything. And being told over and over again that I’m guilty for a crime I didn’t even commit? It stings. In places I didn’t even know could sting that badly.”
Patton made a soft cooing noise, showing that he was actively listening. And probably buying it too.
Virgil wasn’t lying about most of it, believe it or not. Being seen as the bad guy did hurt more than he expected to. Though, what made it worse was being told to his face that he had done something he hadn’t fucking done.
It was annoying and repetitive and drove his blood pressure up.
“Poked, prodded, experimented on,” Virgil continued, before meeting the scientist’s eyes with the most pleading look he could. “I’m going to have these scars for the rest of my life. Reminding me of how I was tortured for someone else’s wrongdoing. All because everyone think’s I’m bad.”
Adding a bit more of an over dramatic flare to it, he let out a sigh before slumping down against the wall again, keeping his attention to the side and closing his eyes.
Plus, the whole experimentation part was true, too. The most they had done was take his blood, use certain medicines to put him to sleep when he was being defiant. Truth be told, it wasn’t exactly torture in the traditional sense, but being here and constantly under supervision and surveillance was torture.
“I don’t think you’re bad!”
That…honestly surprised him a moment. Shaking off the shock and schooling the expression instantly, he turned his head just enough to show that he had heard and was listening. “You don’t?”
“Well, I know the evidence paints you in a pretty bad light,” Patton continued, sounding like he was fiddling with something. “But you really just seem like someone that got mixed in with the wrong crowd, you know? And that wrong crowd left you to be the one that got in trouble.”
Virgil couldn’t hide that surprised look. Whether he knew it or not, Patton had nailed it practically on the head. Ignoring the fact that Virgil’s groupies had done all of this on purpose and framed him for it when he had been at home with his family.
He left the hidden village for one day of gathering resources and all of a sudden he’s drugged and dragged back to this facility. Woke up in a cold stone room, wrists and ankles shackled with people standing above him as he blinked his way back into the waking world. Eyes blurred and head spinning, while scraping noises assaulted his hearing right to the brink of a pounding headache.
Then, being interrogated over and over again, trying to break his spirit and get him to admit that he was guilty.
To be honest, Virgil hadn’t even known what the “crime” he was being accused of was until they had told him in that condescending tone he was used to by now.
Humans were so full of themselves.
No, he wasn’t saying that Shifters were necessarily less full of themselves, but unlike humans—who were boring, useless (for the most part) and unbelievably helpless—Shifters had a reason to be. Being able to shift your size at will? Uh, yeah, absolutely a reason to brag about.
At least, it had been once upon a time.
Though, that didn’t take away from the shock he felt at Patton nearly nailing what had happened to him. “How did you…?”
“It happens more often then you might think it does,” he replied after a moment, his voice softer than before. More earnest. “Teenagers get swept up into the wrong crowd when they’re young and impressionable and end up making bad choices that can ruin their life later on.”
Virgil blinked, shaking his head in disbelief.
“It’s not all doom and gloom and horrible, though!” Patton continued, offering a more comforting smile down at the young man below. “They can make better choices and do better for themselves. Sometimes lessons are just…hard to learn.”
There was a long pause being shared between them. Virgil was genuinely confused on a lot of this, but there was one thing that stood out to him the most.
One thing that none of the others here had ever been to him. And he didn’t get it.
“…why are you being so nice?”
Patton frowned slightly. “What?”
“Why are you being so nice to me?” Virgil clarified as if that statement made this whole conversation make more sense. “Everyone else in this damn building sees me as some kind of criminal mastermind that’s just itching to get back out there and ruin lives. Like I’m going to shatter these chains again and get my revenge. Hell, they won’t even look me in the eye. But you- you treat me like some sort of equal and I don’t understand it.”
That heartbroken look that fluttered across Patton’s features hit somewhere deep in Virgil and he was belatedly reminded of a friend of his making that same expression. “Because you’re not bad,” he repeated, wanting to reinforce that he truly believed it. “You’ve just made some bad choices.”
Okay, sudden realization, Virgil was going to feel pretty damn bad when the time came to use this kindness to his advantage.
Patton didn’t deserve it, but Virgil needed out of here. Patton just happened to be his key out.
Virgil’s eyes widened a little at that, feeling at a loss for words.
No. Stop it. Stop getting attached. It’s just going to make this whole thing harder. Remember what you have to do.
But that made a sour taste raise in the back of his throat and he shook his head. He dropped his gaze from the human standing on the platform and clenched his hands, nails digging into his palms as he tried to ground himself and remind himself that this was not the right time for his morals to come and play. This was the worst possible time for it.
Patton had to have some motive behind everything he was saying.
No one was nice for the sake of being nice. Especially not in a place like this. There had to be an explanation.
“What’s your ulterior motive?” The shifter said instead, keeping his eyes downward. He didn’t need Patton seeing this sort of weakness, it would only bring those puppy eyes out harder.
“My ulterior motive?” Patton repeated in a surprised tone.
“Yes,” Virgil barked. The sudden sharpness of his voice made Patton take a step back—he could hear the small clicking noises on the metal, he didn’t need to look up. But it made something loosen in his chest. He hadn’t meant to frighten him.
Fuck. You fucking idiot. Listen to yourself. He’s a human and he’s your only way out of here, stop letting your damned feelings get in the way.
Virgil grit his teeth. “No one is nice just for the sake of being nice. Especially in a hellhole like this and to someone like me. So what is it?”
It was Patton’s turn to be at a loss for words it seemed. Virgil side-glanced the human and his hands were fluttering, almost like he didn’t exactly know what to do with them.
“Please,” he finally seemed to have found his voice, looking more earnest this time. “You have to believe me. I really don’t have an ulterior motive. Why else would I try and get you to eat something? To take care of yourself?”
“Because a dead lab rat is of no fucking use,” Virgil spat the words out as if they were poison. “In a world like this, Patton Foster, your kindness will be the death of you.”
If Virgil took one quick glance up toward the viewing window, he would see that the people behind it were starting to get antsy. Leaning forward in their seats, just waiting to see what their pet would do. They weren’t going to let him go when he admitted he was guilty. Why would they? No one had to know what they were doing if Virgil never got out.
So, before any of them could press any fancy buttons or Patton could backtrack toward the door behind him, Virgil surged up and wrapped his fingers around the human’s thin form. The scientist was yanked back down into the cell with him after he had secured his grasp.
He really didn’t want Patton getting hurt, he truly didn’t deserve it.
The cry he had earned himself though hit something far too close to home, and it made his stomach drop.
Actually, in his haste, Virgil had almost forgotten what exactly he was doing. The human was so light. Truth be told, when he was this size, he avoided people for this very reason. Shifters were rare enough as they were, and thought to be dangerous because of their ability and their history. So, when going into town, he stayed human sized, blended in with the crowd.
This was the first time he had held a real person and it was…what was it? Terrifying. He was holding an entire life and he could do whatever the fuck he wanted.
He shook the thought off though, that was not what this was about. What this was about, was getting the hell out of here once and for all.
However, he couldn’t focus on the terrified, squirming human in his fist.
Virgil’s attention moved to lock on the viewing glass. His eyes were hard, cold and steely, knowing full well that they could hear him clear as a bell. “I want to speak with Logan Collins immediately or Dr. Foster here gets it.”
There were orders being shouted, muffled behind thick glass but Virgil could hear it. They were terrified. Rightfully so. He had finally managed to get his hands on one of their own and they had no idea what he was going to do. It kind of gave him a bit of a rush, actually. Though, shaking that off, his attention turned down to the door on the platform. He was awaiting the one person that could grant him his freedom if this all went according to plan.
His attention shifted though, to the fluttering heartbeat he could feel pattering gently against his fingertips. The deep breaths being taking in, before wheezing out. He was hyperventilating.
Virgil had the urge to say something to calm him down, to find a way to reassure Patton that he wasn’t in danger—but there was no way he was going to be able to do that without the entire building hearing him. Showing that he had gotten attached would only make this worse than it already was.
“…why are you doing this?”
The soft voice cut through the thoughts in his head and Virgil’s eyes followed his mind. He was looking back down to the human staring right back up at him, glasses askew and trembling.
Because I have to. I have no other choice. This isn’t because I don’t like you.
You’re not going to get hurt.
I’m not going to hurt you.
On purpose, another side of him spoke up, you won’t hurt him “on purpose.”
“I had no other choice,” he said instead, wanting to keep his voice level and reveal nothing more than that. “You’re my only ticket out of here.”
Before either could say anything more, the door on the platform was sliding back open. He looked back up, wanting to give this man his full attention.
“You,” Virgil hissed, upon realizing who it was. The one person he didn’t want to see was currently standing above him, peering down at him through those thick black glasses. “You’re Logan Collins?’
“Indeed,” the scientist said. “Now, we would greatly appreciate if you returned my associate to his station and we can move on from this whole ridiculous endeavor.”
“No.” Virgil’s voice was cold, and his eyes darkened. “I want out of here. You’re not getting him back until I get out.”
“That’s highly improbable,” Logan retorted, trying to appear stoic. Virgil could see the way his eyes kept darting to Patton anxiously.
Logan wasn’t as brave as he said he was.
Virgil knew it was hard to break him normally, but now, since everything Patton had told him seemed to be true, he had a leg up on the guy. Holding his friend captive was already fraying his stressed nerves and Virgil would just have to push a little harder to get what he wanted.
“Fine.” The shifter shrugged nonchalantly.
He then clicked his tongue, eyes flickering down to the terrified human in his hold, Patton’s wide teary eyes seemed to peer into his soul and fuck, don’t look at him too long.
It was far easier to glare at Logan then it was to hold Patton’s helpless gaze. Speaking of, he could hardly feel the weak struggles. They were certainly there, but there was certainly not enough strength behind the motions to budge Virgil’s fingers, and he was hardly holding him tight.
Humans truly were helpless.
“Fine?” Logan mimicked, almost unsure of what he meant by the word.
“Uh-huh,” Virgil retorted, looking more mildly amused than agitated. He just needed to ham this all up. Good thing he had been raised around over-dramatic family his entire life. “I can do this all day, y’know. You drug me, Dr. Foster here plummets. Maybe not to his death, but it is a bone breaking fall. Unfortunate as that would be, of course. You tighten my chains too suddenly—” Virgil wiggled his wrists clattering the metal chains for emphasis, “—the same fate befalls him. Now, you wouldn’t want that to happen to your friend would you?”
Logan’s shoulders tightened and Virgil had his answer.
“Now, neither would I,” his eyes lazily wandered the same room he had been staring at for, what, months now? “Then I propose a deal. You let me go, I let Patton go. It’s that simple. A smart man like you, Logan, should know a good deal when he hears one.”
“That in no way, is a good deal,” Logan shot back, and Virgil could see his resolve flicker in that heated statement.
“Okay, well, this can now go one of two ways; you let me go and I put Patton back where he’s supposed to be,” he clicked his tongue again, baring his teeth, “or I have lunch.”
That very statement made the whole room tense. He could see Logan bristling, but there was also something underneath all of that. The human in his hand stilled completely. Patton had even stopped breathing, holding his breath as if waiting for something more to happen. For Virgil to follow through, probably.
Thing was, it was totally a bluff. The idea of bringing a human even close to his face was, well, revolting. It was worse than the mush they gave him for sustenance now.
Virgil may not be a huge fan of humans after this, but they were still living, breathing sentient things that had families and friends and people that would miss them terribly. Taking that life away just because he could was wrong and cruel and unfair.
Virgil was mean, yes, but he wasn’t malicious.
“You wouldn’t,” Logan’s voice was crackling slightly, but still tough.
“Why wouldn’t I?” Virgil responded casually. “After I’ve been stuck here, and either forced to choke down whatever disgusting bullshit you people have given me for the past few months or starve to death. Why wouldn’t I take the chance for something real?”
Logan had had his rebuttal at the ready and Virgil was just was ready to tear right into him as well, but both of them were shocked into silence.
“Because you’re not a monster!”
Patton’s voice was surprisingly loud for someone who was terrified out of his mind. It was possibly the adrenaline that was coursing him through him, initiating the fight or flight response.
But that sentence…
Not a monster.
“You’re nothing but bad person. What you did was unforgivable.”
“Just admit you’re guilty already! Stop pretending you don’t know what we’re talking about.”
“This just makes you look worse. Playing the victim in all of this? Please.”
“Shifters, hah, like they have any morals whatsoever,” a familiar voice spat and Virgil nearly winced. A voice he had buried so well, he had almost forgotten all of the shit they had put him through. “You’ll be better off dead anyway. Not like a weakling like yourself could survive five minutes out there.”
“Stop being so useless and actually use that power to your advantage. And if you don’t, I’m going to make sure you regret the day you were born.”
Virgil swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry as unwanted emotions flooded forward like a damn had broken. “What?” The word was barely a whisper.
“You’re not a monster,” Patton repeated, his voice still wobbly with terror, but confident enough for the both of them. “You’ve made bad choices and hung around bad people, but you are not them.”
You’re a mistake.
The weak link.
No wonder your old family didn’t want you anymore. No wonder they did this to you, it was to get rid of you.
“Stop it,” he breathed, feeling his throat tightening.
“No. I refuse to let you believe this.” Patton finally managed to wriggle his shoulders and arms free before adjusting his glasses and using the sleeves of his jacket to wipe at his eyes. Virgil was all talk, he knew that now. Even after all of this, he hadn’t been hurt. He was sure there wouldn’t even be a bruise in the morning. “I told you before and I stand by it; you’re not bad. And even after…all of this, I still don’t think so.”
“I can’t—” Virgil sucked in a wheezing breath, his head spinning. He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling light headed and the constant noise around him was too much and too loud and it was all just too much. “Out,” he whined, while pulling forward and putting as much body weight into leaning on the chains as possible, “I need out. I– air, please, it just—”
“Logan–” Patton began, but Logan seemed to be thinking about something else.
“I know what you are,” he said, causing Virgil to wince further, still trying to pull on the chains enough so they snapped and shattered again. He just needed to get the fuck out of here. “You’re a Shifter. Lives with a remote group of others in a hidden village. You and your people were created as a link of trust between giant and mankind.”
“I need out,” Virgil snarled back, emotions bubbling just under the surface. What made his feelings worse, was the fact that Logan knew what he was. Knew where he lived. His family was in danger and it was all his fault.
Logan stayed unperturbed. “If you can break the chains around your wrists, I’ll let you go.”
Virgil wheezed, his breathing shortening. “You’re– you’re fucking with me.”
“I most certainly am not.” Logan almost seemed offended at the prospect of being disbelieved. “You break those chains, I will see to it that you are released.”
“I can’t,” the Shifter snipped, “they’re.. fucking enchanted– if I could break them, don’t you think I– I would have.”
Logan rose a brow. “I think you’re stronger than you’re letting any of us see,” he said instead, pushing his glasses up. “Besides, you’re not going to get anywhere if you continue to succumb to your panic. What I want you to do is take a breath in for four seconds, hold for eight and release for seven.”
Even though Virgil’s head was buzzing with adrenaline and he could feel the aching in his joints to move, he did what he had to. He couldn’t think like this, and with Patton so close to him, he didn’t want anxiety induced jerky movements to end up hurting him.
It took a few minutes, but his chest loosened and his lungs weren’t as restricted. He took a deeper breath, before shaking it off, coming down from the high. He could still feel his blood rushing in his ears though and adrenaline still pumped through his veins. If Logan was serious about letting him go if he could break these chains, that sort of electricity would be helpful.
Virgil licked his dry lips, before swallowing thickly. “You were telling the truth about that whole thing?”
Logan quirked a brow, curious as to which part Virgil was referring to. “The Shifter part?”
“No,” Virgil rolled his eyes, “the part about me being able to leave if I can break the chains.”
“Oh.” The noise sounded honestly surprised, before Logan made a noise of agreement. “Fibbing certainly would not get me anywhere. If you can, indeed, get out of those chains, you will be free to go.”
“No strings attached?”
This time, Logan seemed genuinely confused. “I do not see why strings would be important?”
Virgil just resisted from smacking his head against the wall behind him. Did the idiot really take things like that literally? Wow. He barely glanced the human still within the confines of his hand as he reached up and settled Patton back onto the metal platform.
Virgil was almost positive that Patton would have bolted the minute he’d been released and Virgil’s hand was away from him, though the scientist remained stubborn and pushed himself up from his knees to lean over the railing.
Though, Virgil didn’t miss the way Patton and Logan shared a look. Were they convening on what would actually happen if Virgil broke the shackles? If they were truly enchanted, then this would all be for naught, but with the true desperation of release so close and the promise of freedom if he could do it…
“Tighten the chains.” The Shifter said, resilience blooming in his chest, even his body ached. He needed out and no amount of exhausted pain was going to keep him from doing exactly that.
There was a loud clank and Virgil felt the chains tighten soon after. His wrists were then almost pinned just above his head. He took in another breath, sending a look up toward the humans.
That was all the warning they needed it seemed and Virgil began to tug on the chains attached to his shackles again. The metal was biting into his already raw skin, but pain was nothing compared to the feeling of freedom. If it meant he got out of here without admitting he was wrong, or having the fear of being tested on again, then great. He could hear the creaking from somewhere above him, but that didn’t mean these suckers were going to snap yet.
He let out a pant, blinking his eyes open and blinking the wetness from them. He wasn’t upset—far from it really—but from the force he had had his eyes squeezed shut, the pressure had rose tears to his eyes.
Taking in another breath, Virgil shut his eyes again and pulled harder on the chains. The creaking from just above him worsened and before he could think to relax, the chain on his right wrist him loose. His eyes shot open as he heard some cement hit the ground. The shackle was still connected to him, but the chain was shattered in front of him. He’d done it.
Virgil could have almost laughed with the relief of it.
He was getting out. After however fucking long he’d been here, he got to leave scot-free.
His eyes shot up to Patton and Logan who both looked surprised and relieved, and surprised and awed.
Virgil’s attention flickered back up to his left wrist as it dangled uselessly above him. Turning around—as he could do that now!—he braced a foot on the cement wall, grabbed his left with and put his entire body weight into it. Using his new leverage point, his left wrist came loose far easier than the first one did and he fell back in surprise. He heard the two startled voices of Patton and Logan as the vibrations must have taken them to the ground too.
Virgil took a moment to register what had just happened. While his shackles were still on, the chains were broken. Virgil wasted no time in tearing through the shackles on his ankles before getting up onto his knees and turning to face the scientists.
However, he was well aware that Logan could have very easily been screwing with him, he leaned a little closer, just enough to loom as they both tried to get their bearings on the platform. “Just so you know, if you fucked with me about this getting out thing, I’m not above a bit of fun.”
“I told you already,” Logan grunted, fixing his glasses and lifting himself into a stand, bracing against the hand railing as he winced. “There is no point in telling you a falsehood. It would reflect badly on myself.”
“Then get me the fuck out of this hellhole.”
Virgil was done. He was tired and just wanted to sleep on something that wasn’t solid stone and something that wouldn’t break his back or give him back problems at twenty-one years old. He leaned a bit closer to the platform, making Logan step back a moment, but Patton stayed in place, confident in the fact that Virgil was more bark than bite at this point.
Though, when he began to get gradually smaller, he reached a hand up and grabbed onto the hand railing.
Size shifting had been easier when he practiced it almost every day, but this part of him hadn’t been active for what had to have been a month or two at this point and that was clearly showing with how it buzzed in his head. Virgil had to focus far more than usual to get down to human sized and even when he was there, the Shifter was left panting, holding onto the railing with a white knuckled grip.
Not his best choice, but hey, at least he wasn’t down there in that cell anymore.
Patton shook off his surprise remarkably quickly before stepping forward and grabbed Virgil by the upper arm. It was weird seeing the guy at normal height. He didn’t linger on the thought though, before pulling Virgil up and helping the Shifter over the railing and onto the platform itself.
Virgil wheezed in another breath, light-headed and off put by everything for the moment as vertigo came and went a couple times.
“Are you–?”
“Fine,” he breathed in response to Patton’s unasked question. “I… I just need a minute.”
His head was spinning, the world was spinning in general. His stomach lurched and he swallowed it back.
Virgil couldn’t just stay here. He couldn’t. Bringing himself up onto his knees even as he tipped backward slightly, he looked between the two forms of Patton and Logan, squinting to bring them both into focus. It took a moment, but Virgil struggled to his feet and braced himself against the railing behind him. “Alright, I’m good,” he said, even if it was a bit further from the truth.
“You certainly do not look ‘good’ in that aspect.” Logan stepped forward, and Virgil very nearly twitched away from him.
“I just need the hell out of here,” he insisted, “I can figure out how to make the world stop spinning after I’m out in the open.”
Patton seemed unsatisfied with that, but didn’t push. Instead, he only offered an arm out that Virgil did twitch away from. Patton smiled at him, calm and reassuring, even as the Shifter’s eyes blinked up to him, questioning and confused. “I don’t bite,” Patton told him.
Virgil pressed a hand to his forehead, blinking a couple times before the world came back into focus and the nausea began to finally pass. “You’re not, y’know, mad about everything that just happened?”
“Nope,” Patton said, popping the ‘p’ with extra emphasis to prove it. “I’ll just help you get your bearings, so you can walk on your own when you feel confident enough to.”
Virgil still hesitated, not wanting to take the human’s offered help, if only to satisfy his need to do everything on his own. But if taking a step ended up with him face planting then his pride was going to take a harder hit. “Fine,” he relented, looping his arm around Patton’s and stepping away from the railing. “But as soon as I can walk on my own, I’m going to.”
After nearly tripping and bringing Patton down with him, Logan came up on Virgil’s other side and offered his arm out too. Virgil felt red paint his face, this was so demeaning. Though he really didn’t want to end up dragging Patton down to the floor with him.
Needless to say, he looped his arm around Logan’s.
Navigating the facility would have been impossible without the scientists help, so when the doors to the building actually opened and real sunshine flooded over him, Virgil released a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. The sun was warm and the grass was soft. The breeze was cool and fresh and he was out. Free.
No more questions, no more sleeping serum, no more scientists in his face trying to press him into admitting he was wrong.
Virgil had hardly noticed he’d taken his few steps forward without Patton or Logan’s support. Not until he heard Logan clear his throat behind him, and the Shifter turned to see them standing by the sliding door leading back into the facility.
“Before we let you go though, I would like to know,” Logan said, pushing his glasses up before tucking his hands into the pockets of his coat. “Did you really not commit the crime?”
“Fuck no,” Virgil laughed incredulously, “I was framed. I swear to God, I can even give you the guys information that did it to me.”
Logan nodded, seemingly satisfied with that answer.
“I’ll hold you to that.”
#Brook writes#Sanders Sides#Virgil Sanders#Patton Sanders#Logan Sanders#Deceit Sanders#ts Virgil#ts Logan#ts Patton#g/t#giant/tiny#infinitesimal!sides#Sanders Sides g/t#size shifter#Giant!Virgil#Human!Patton#Human!Logan#Size shifter!Virgil#Size shifter!Deceit#Platonic Analogical#Platonic Moxiety#Platonic Logicality#tw fear#tw panic attack#tw drugs#tw medicine#tw swearing#tw cursing#ts Janus#Janus Sanders
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