#So we start with Shadow. Next month we decide between Silver and.

[niko-jpeg]

sighs heavily. I purchased a Shadow plushie.

[potter-imagines]

Best-friends to Lovers (Fred Weasley x Reader)

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Request: can we get like... a lil fred weasley, you guys are good friends and you don’t usually go back for the holidays, and Fred invites you back to the Burrow to spend the break there and y’all like totally fall for each other 🥺

Warning: None (I switched it up just a tiny bit to where they’ve already developed some feelings but they finally admit them sooo hope you enjoy!)

Word Count: 4.5k

It was a flurry and cold winter night, the kind of night when every breath stings the lungs and every exhale chills the lips. The frigid air, the slippery ground and the sheet of white covering the once green grass. All signs winter was here and cold times were ahead. Even in the highlands of Scotland, the winters were ferosus and unforgiving. You despised the freezing temperature, but Fred was far too convincing and a midnight walk with him was something you couldn’t find the words to turn down.

For the first time in the five years you had spent at Hogwarts, and the five years you had been best friends, you had finally accepted the twins offer on spending Christmas at the Burrow with their family. It was a turn of events in your typical holiday plans which were mostly spent alone at the castle. Your first two years at school you had traveled home for Christmas. It wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t exactly a ‘jolly’ time either. Family time came few and far between. The sparse time you did spend around your family had grown… awkward. Being the only witch in your family didn’t help much either. As the years dragged on, you felt like a stranger in your own home. Your parents spent their entire year with your younger brother, so he had undoubtedly grown to be the favorite and the prized child. They still loved you of course, it just felt forced to engage with them at times.

So it came as a pleasant surprise when you walked into the Weasley’s home and were engulfed in a warmth you had never known. Molly Weasley was the first to greet you, popping out from the staircase with a shimmering grin. Before you could register what was happening, she pulled you into a bone crunching grip rambling on about how good it was to meet you. Arthur hugged you as well and teased about how much the twins would talk about you, especially Fred. Fred would turn bashful but he didn’t deny it.

Ginny showed you around the house, beating Fred and George to the chance. Molly set up a mattress on the floor next to the youngest Weasley’s bed, something Ginny was over the moon thrilled about. She had been longing for a sleepover with you for years now. Ever since her first term, she followed you around like a little puppy. So your first night at the home, Ginny coerced you into a slumber party immediately.

The twins, mainly Fred, weren’t too happy at this. They were the ones who invited you yet their little sister was stealing all your time. Fred was bitter when you hurried off from dinner to go join Ginny upstairs, not even bidding him a farewell.

George insisted his twin was being dramatic- they had an entire month for Merlin's sake! The feelings his brother developed for you, their best friend, was clear as crystals to George. They both shared a crush on you for the first year at Hogwarts but George’s feelings quickly shifted to a friendship, sister love. Fred on the other hand, well his crush only evolved further. George noticed it the second Fred started combing his hair before dinner and always placing himself the closest towards you. It was a topic they danced around for quite some time. He teased his twin for years until the idea came to him that Fred still felt this way towards you even after years. George had devoted his previous two summers to breaking Fred into admission. All he wanted was to hear his twin confirm his suspicions. Not that he needed that really, other people were beginning to notice as well.

One of them being your temporary roommate. Ginny was a top notch observer. During her second year, she started to catch on to the elephant that followed you and Fred into every room.

That first night, Ginny shed light on her theory by offhandedly making a rather large claim late that first night. While the two of you were chatting softly in the dark, the young girl declared out of the blue,

“I think my brother is in love with you.”

In an instant, your whole body froze over like water on a lake. You were thankful for the dark, it kept Ginny from seeing your wide eyed stare of shock.

“What?”

It was now you could see her small frame adjusting in her bed. Even with the lack of light, you saw her sitting up on her bed, propping her weight on one elbow. It could be assumed she had a devilish smile as she probed on.

“Fred… pretty sure he’s in love with you.”

“Why, what makes you think that, Ginny?”

“Quite a laundry list of things, actually. First, he never shuts up about you. Second, he’s always trying to be around you. Third, he’s always staring at you… bit creepy. Fourth, he’s told our nanna about you! Lastly, and most obvious, I heard him telling George right before school started.”

Laying back down, you fixed your eyes on the ceiling taking in her words. Does your best friend really share the same feelings for you? It was too good to be true, it couldn’t be true, you thought. This kinda stuff only happened in the movies and your life definitely was not a film gracing the silver screen. The butterflies went rampant in your stomach, fluttering about wildly. For a moment, you had forgotten Ginny was there, or that you were in her room, until she spoke again.

“So, what do you think of him?” She asked innocently. Tugging the fluffy blue blanket closer to your chest you replied,

“Pardon?”

Ginny wasted no time and reached over to flicker the light switch on her bedside lamp. A bright light broke through the pitch black darkness of the bedroom. You groaned at the act but Ginny spoke over your sounds of protest.

“Are you in love with Fred?”

Running your hand over your face, you let out a sigh. It was getting too late to be thinking about such heavy topics. You had a great friendship with Ginny, you really did, but if you couldn’t even deal with these emotions on your own, you really didn’t want to throw your thoughts on her.

Turning over on the mattress, you rolled your eyes.

“Ginny, I’m not even dating Fred.”

“But you want to.” She confirmed stubbornly.

“I mean… I-I don’t know, Ginny. Can we talk about something else, please?” You wanted to hide under a blanket and avoid the question for all of eternity. She had caught you off guard and although the feelings you felt towards Fred were strong, it wasn’t something you felt ready to face yet. It wasn’t easy being in love with your best friend- there was so much risk, so much to lose if things went south. You settled on keeping Fred as a friend rather than gamble the option of rejection and a change in your relationship forever.

Ginny perked her brow, opened her mouth as if ready to rebuttal, then deciding against it. The corner of her tip twitched to a smirk as she replied,

“Hmm, okay.”

The topic was dropped for the rest of the night as Ginny went to bed shortly after, but it wasn’t completely over. From then on, you began noticing the constant little redhead attached to your coattails. You noticed each time Fred shooed his sister off and demanded she find something better to do. He was edging closer and closer to his point of eruption. This break was supposed to be time for him to spend alone with you and finally confess his feelings. Not Ginny being your shadow and George tagging along for every outing.

Now on your walk almost a week later, your mind hadn’t stopped wandering to that conversation. Ginny hadn’t brought it up again, at least not vocally. During breakfast the next morning after your talk while you're placed between Fred and George joking around with them, she’ll send you knowing looks, giggling to herself. Harry started to pick up on this as well and you noticed Ginny whispering to him afterwards. It didn’t help that Fred would take any opportunity he could to make you laugh and be in your presence.

Last night you found yourself sitting in front of the fireplace with George, Ginny, Ron, Harry and Fred. A steaming mug of hot cocoa was clutched in everyone’s hand. After about an hour of talking softly and sharing stories, Ginny, Ron and Harry decided to call it a night and trudged up the stairs together. You waved to them as they disappeared up the wooden steps, the sound off their feet turning quieter with every second.

As the three of you sat closely, it felt like you were back at Hogwarts in the common room. George was gushing about a Muggle film you had shown him earlier in the day and Fred was silently listening in, a small smile kissing his lips. You were sat at Fred’s side, your backs against the couch and his arm thrown casually around your shoulder. George was laid on the smaller couch across from the two of you, rambling on to himself. As his talking continued, Fred slowly worked to move your body closer to his and nearly in his lap. He did it so naturally you almost failed to notice. The loud, booming tone of George simmer out within minutes. His voice seemed to sooth him into a slumber as his harsh snores suddenly cut through the air, having talked himself to sleep. This caused the both of you to start laughing. Fred’s arm gripped you tighter as his body shook with chuckles. The sensation sent an odd shiver down your spine. It felt… nice, really really nice to be in his arms.

Fred wondered if now was the time. It was the first chance he had gotten alone with you for almost a week, so there was a good probability he wouldn’t get another for a while. He needed to make a move, something at least! Fred hated not having the bravery like the Gryffindor he was to fess up and spit out the words to describe how he felt about you. Closing his eyes, Fred took a deep breath then peeked his gaze open once more. The nerves had calmed and for the first time, he felt ready and he knew he had to act on it. But as he looked down at you, all the confidence had vanished with one glance. His throat dried as your eyes met and a faint precipitation budded in his palms. All the words he had been rehearsing for a year now simply slipped out the back door.

You took note of the ghost white paleness that took over and immediately sat up, removing yourself from his arms to ask,

“You alright, Freddie?” The concern dripped from your words as you examined the face of your best friend. His eyes were lowered, glued to the flickering flames of the crackling fire.

“Of course, love. I’m sorry, was just thinking.”

“Aw, Freddie, we talked about this. You know thinking is no good for you- you’re brain can’t handle it, darling!” Fred’s heart leaped at the adorning pet name. Only recently had you started calling him more loving names, and it drove him absolutely mad. No girl could ever get his heart racing with just one word like you could. He loved hearing such names coming from your mouth, and directed to him. There was only one name he would die to call you and that was his.

“Can I take you for a walk, love?” The request came abruptly, completely out of the blue. Your eyes widen at his question. Any other time you’d say yes without a second thought. Although, it was late and the land was not a territory you were familiar with like Hogwarts.

Your eyes fell on the window behind the couch. Large white snowflakes swirled from the sky and coated the grounds. The heavy black winter jacket you packed was hung up neatly by the door, not having been touched for at least a day.

Turning your attention back to Fred, you realized his eyes were already trained on your face. At your glance, a hopefully smile reached his cheeks.

“It’s nearly midnight I… actually, why not? Sure. But if we run into any wolves, I’m sacrificing you to them, Weasley.” He laughed at your response and quickly jumped up. You set your hands to your side, readying yourself to stand when suddenly, Fred’s large hands attached to your sides and lifted you up to your feet. You stumbled trying to gain balance but once again, Fred was right there to help you.

Unexpectedly, his left hand extended out and intertwined his fingers in yours. Just as you had predicted, his touch was warm, addicting in a way. It set off a pool of security and protection. Instead of fearing what may lie in the open land outside his house, you trusted Fred.

The tall boy walked you towards the door and pulled your long coat from the hook then threw it around your body. You slipped your arms into the fuzzy material as he yanked his heavy jacket on. Watching the never ending snowfall outside, you worked your hands into the black mittens you had stored in the coat pockets. You hoped it wasn’t as bone chilling outside as it looked.

“Here, I think you might need this, love. You can use my scarf too if you’d like. Don’t want you freezing to death, that’d be hard to explain to George and the rest of our friends.” Fred placed an extra winter hat of his on top of your head. Heat slapped your cheeks at his movements. Fred was commonly sweet towards you but lately, he had been extra sweet. Small gestures here and there were adding up and raising a bit of questions in your mind.

You knocked Fred jokingly on the shoulder and remarked,

“Reckon they’ll send you to Azkaban for that one. I’m a saint, everyone loves me, Fred.” You teased him playfully before accepting his offer with a thank you. Instead of handing you the maroon and gold striped scarf, Fred leaned forward and wrapped it snug around your neck. Once finished, his fingertip tapped against the tip of your nose, grinning to himself.

“You’re not wrong about that. We should get going though. The killer trolls will rise from the ground soon!”

“Knock it off!” You scolded him in a hushed tone, careful not to wake his sleeping family as you chased out of the house after him. Running down the steps, you saw Fred waiting near the car for you. There was an open path behind the car, a makeshift road but the kids used it for a walking guide.

He motioned you over waving exaggeratedly.

“C’mon, darling! You’re taking forever.” Fred moaned on dramatically as he waited for you to catch up to him.  

“It’s freezing out here, be patient.” You waddled over to his side and stood close to his frame, egar for warmth. Fred took in your shaking body and wrapped his arm around your shoulder and tugged you towards his side.

Snowflakes landed on your eyelashes, conflicting your view. Despite the coldness of the winter air, the landscape was beautiful. There were miles and miles of open plains on all ends of the Burrow. In a way, they were isolated, but the atmosphere was live with activity. It was impossible to be bored when the Weasley siblings were around. There was so much to do, in an exploring sense. You had never felt so free, so open before. It was refreshing to spend time at Weasley's home. As the two of you walked together in the crunchy snow, Fred pointed to a large field, a makeshift pitch if you had to guess.

“Charlie and Bill taught George and I how to play Quidditch over there the summer after our first year. Percy hated playing with us! We’d all gang up on him- even if he was on our team- and try to knock him off his broom. I don’t think he’s played with us since! You would’ve died of laughter seeing how angry he got.” You watched as Fred’s features scrunched in laughed at the memory. His contagious chuckles infected you as you laughed along. It was a recollection you could imagine perfectly, even if you weren’t there. Percy was an easy target but he had done it to himself so there wasn’t much room for blame.

Shrugging your shoulders you said,

“I would say poor Percy but he turned me in for being out past curfew so, I’m proud of you, Fred.”

“Sounds like him, just try being related to him. He runs to our parents for everything! Every. Little. Thing. It’s infuriating.” Your cheeks began to sting from smiling so much, but when you were around Fred, it was a given. He had an affect on you that no one else seemed to earn. Even when you were on the brim of tears, Fred always found a way to bring a grin to your face.

But still, you thought about Ginny’s words and the change in Fred throughout your years as friends. Nights were lost tossing and turning over the thought of that prankster redhead who had occupied all your notions.

Lifting your hand up slightly, you grabbed for Fred’s gloved hand. He gladly accepted your gesture and squeezed on your hand as you continued to walk further from the home. Fred’s attention soon dropped as his consciousness drifted once again. Pursing your lips you drew him out.

“Freddie, what’s on your mind? You’ve been different since we got here. I mean, it’s not a bad different. It’s just… something is different with you and you’re my best friend so I wanna know.”

Fred’s eyes snapped up at your concerning voice and the startled expression met yours. This was definitely not a common act for Fred. Your mind raced at the possibility of what it could be but luckily, Fred didn’t make you wait long for an answer.

His pace slowed, but his feet still dragged in the powdered flakes holding your hand. You wanted to hear him speak so bad although you respected the time he needed and waited in silence as you continued to walk. It didn’t take long for Fred to shatter the thin air,

“Can I ask you a serious question? Like one that could change everything.”

“You can ask me anything, Fred. You know this. It won’t change a thing.” You replied seriously. Fred could hear the truthfulness in your words and it calmed him, only a little though. The looming fear, and reality, of rejection was becoming all too real. Even worse than rejection, Fred had a feeling if he didn’t take his chance now, he might never have the opportunity again.

“Do you see me only as a best friend?” The nervousness in his voice broke the peace of the air. Your feet halted at the cavalier inquest. Fred had asked quite the offhand questions before but this, this was new. Mentally attempting to connect the pieces, you tilted your head in confusion.

“Freddie…” The mummer was faint, almost failing to register from your lips. The Burrow was still in near distance and the moonlight provided enough light to search Fred’s face. You weren’t sure what to make of the inquiry exactly, but your heart race excelled in anticipation.

Fred Weasley shifted in the crystalline snow. His hands were shoved deep in his coat pockets and his legs bounced in his stance. You knew him well enough to see the contemplation written across his features.

“Y/n I really really like you. I promise this isn’t a joke or some prank. If you don’t feel the same I can find a way to accept it but I don’t wanna lose you in my life. I just can’t hold it in anymore. It’s been five years of tortue now and… I just needed to get it out, love. I think I might be falling in love with you- if I haven’t already.” As Fred poured his heart out openly, the dripping snowfall ceased all together. It was magically in a sense. The loud slush was now quiet, almost like drizzling rain. His gingerbread eyes were studied upon you, waiting for any sort of reaction to surface. You just gazed up at him scavenging for the perfect words to spill your emotions.

“You’ve liked me for five years?” You asked, stunned. That was impossible. All this time you had spent crushing on Fred and admiring him, stuck in the friendzone, you could’ve just talked to him and been honest. Fred’s eyes darted back to his house then to you anxiously.

“Yeah. I’ve just been too scared to tell you. I don’t want it to ruin our friendship, that’s the last thing I could take.”

Your heart dropped at his words. It was funny in a way, he had the same fears as you. In the same way, you felt guilty for putting him through the same torture you had been going through the last few years as well.

With a surge of confidence, you snapped your head up to Fred and quickly remarked,

“Will it ruin our friendship if I think I’m in love with you too?”

The stillness in the air was unreadable at first. Your gazes trained intently on each other. The uplift gleamed in Fred when he took in your words. All his fears went away like the swish of a wand.

Half out of adrenaline, the other half out of want for years of desire, Fred took one step forward and closed the small gap of space between the two of you by pressing his lips tightly against yours. His hands rested on your face, and the small of your back to keep you steady. This you were thankful for this as his quick actions took you by shock nearly knocking you off your feet.

Your left hand drew up to his hair, finding a tight grip in his shoulder length locks, something you’d been dreaming about doing. The kiss intensified as you indulged in the lock and pressed closer to Fred. Your mouths moved together as if snogging was naturally with you two.

Your lungs demanded air after a few minutes and you slowly pulled away from Fred’s lips and leaned away to regain your composure. You could hear Fred panting at your side, also processing what just took place. Your hands never left each other’s and he suddenly squeezed yours to earn your attention. A genuine look crosses Fred’s face as he whispered into the cold air,

“Can I ask you to be my girlfriend now or do you want me to woo you over on a date first?” His sweet words nearly melted your heart. As easy as you were to please when it came to Fred, this heartwarming exchange felt like the perfect night to declare as a first outing.

“I think I’ll count this as our first date, it was quite romantic.”

Fred rolled his eyes with a smirk. It made him happy that you weren’t demanding or the snotty type. He loved that the small things made you glow with happiness. Even with this, he was still mentally planning a date to take you on before break ended. Although you still had yet to answer his big question.

“So does that mean you’ll be my girlfriend?” You had to swallow back a laugh as you realized you never officially answered Fred. Despite your kiss, he still looked worried you’d turn him away. Shaking your head with a smile you replied,

“Yes, I won’t make you beg anymore.”

Fred wasted no time snatching you by the waste and giving you a small twirl around the snow. A yelp sounded from your lips and you hoped it wasn’t loud enough to wake anyone sleeping at the Burrow. Fred chuckled at your protests and placed you down delicately. Placing his hands on either side of your face, the joyful Gryffindor snogged you lightly, but his passion still seeped through.

“Merlin’s beard, can’t believe it took my stupid arse five years to ask you out. I could’ve been kissing you years ago!”

“Guess we were both missing out. Feel dim for thinking I was going to ruin everything between us if I told you how I felt. But I’m so happy, Freddie.”

“Here, darling,” His gloved hand jerk back to the house, “We oughta head back, now. Mum will kill me if she finds out we were out this late! She thinks you’re an angel so you’ll be fine but I’ll be six feet under by dawn. I can’t wait for morning, though. I can finally brag to everyone that you’re mine, love.” His lips pressed against yours again, desperate to relive the spark and it did not disappoint. Kissing Fred felt natural, like you melted into the embrace. Your lips molded in sync, matching up like magnets. His tongue drew a line across your bottom lips as he kissed you deeper.

Coming back to earth you detached from Fred with a light ‘smack’ noise. Neither of you could wipe the childlike grins off your faces. His plump cheeks turned crimson in the night. Unable to shake off the excitement of the night’s events, you leaned into Fred’s body, giving him a tight hug. He returned the embrace instantly and left a long kiss to the top of your head.

Leaning away, you planted one last kiss to Fred’s cheek then held his hand as you two walked towards his home. The light at the top of the Burrow, assumingly Fred and George's room was turned on. Brightness shone from the window and you pointed up at the sight. The house was only feet away and you started to wonder what George would think of the news.

It could be assumed he wouldn’t be shocked. George spent the last year making comments to you here and there, prying in on you and Fred. Ginny of course wouldn’t be too blown away either, but what about Ron and Harry?

Fred already knew what their reactions would be. He knew without a doubt all of your friends would be thrilled, but no one would be too taken aback by your new relationship. It seemed the only two students who were oblivious to your shared feelings, were Fred and yourself.

“You think they’ll be surprised to hear we’re dating?” You wondered out loud. Fred swung your hand in a back and forth motion as you approached the front porch of the house. Your question obtained a chuckle from Fred as he shook his head,

“Not one bit, love.”

[whereisten]

The Interview

A Doyoung fic that’s part of our Halloween Series!

Summary: you’re a journalist that just booked her biggest gig, an interview with Doyoung, a vampire notorious for a series of murders in your city.

Pairing: Vampire!Doyoung x female reader

Other characters: Best friend!Johnny

Genre: horror, angst, smut, violence

Word count: 8.7 K

Warnings: blood mention, descriptions of murder and violence, cursing, smut! (Threesome (MMF), breast fondling, fingering, male masturbation, oral sex, penetration, slight overstimulation, c*eampie.), mentions of chains and knives.

A/N: I am sorry for taking so long to post this, but I hope you enjoy!! I didn’t proofread (shocker) so there may be some errors but I will fix them later. THANK YOU GUYS AGAIN FOR THE SUPPORT FOR OUR HALLOWEEN SERIES AHHHH!! It’s been so much fund and I hope you guys enjoy the last few fics we have coming up!!

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You entered the house and walked hesitantly inside, looking around to observe all of the meticulous paintings and art. The mansion was dark and gloomy, it sent a chill through your body to imagine all of the horrors and secrets it held within it. So much murder, so much blood and death. And yet, it was kept in pristine condition by a loyal maid. Not a speck of dust in sight, and no stench to even indicate a single crime having been committed.

You sat down in his office on a cushioned loveseat before you  placed your recorder on the coffee table in between your seat and his.

You heard the jingles of his handcuffs and the many footsteps of police entering a few minutes after.

He sat down across from you as you cleared your throat. You noticed his irritated and burgundy red wrists being burned by the handcuffs around them made of pure silver.

He was stunning, like a painting himself. His skin looked like it was made of the most expensive marble, his eyes looked playful, but held a dark glint about them that you couldn’t shake. His arms were in front of him as his hands were held together by the handcuffs, you couldn’t ignore the obvious presence of his biceps as they strained against the thin material of his long sleeved prison uniform. His veins also bulged from his wrists all the way to his neck.

The devastatingly handsome man looked...hungry.

His tongue darts out over his bottom lip as he watches you observe his features.

“Oh, a pretty one for once, thank God.” He smirks.

You look at him sternly and press record on the mechanism in between you two.

“Good afternoon, Doyoung, my name is y/n. Today, I’ll be asking you a few questions about the crimes you’ve committed, but first, I would like for you to confirm your identity.”

You hold your iPad in your arm and start to type a description of his features and what he is wearing.

Doyoung laughs.

You stop writing and look up at him.

“What’s the matter?”

“I’m chained up in my own house, and not in the sexual way for once…”

You look back to your iPad.

“Unless..you’d like to change that..” he says with a low tone that makes your body shiver.

“Doyoung..you’ve just been sentenced to a lifetime in prison for the brutal murders of 36 people. I’d appreciate it if you’d just answer a few questions so we can both go about our day.”

“Oh dear, I won’t tell you anything unless you get these barbaric things off of me, and get these useless men out of here.” He tilts his head towards the police officers behind his seat.

You shake your head. “No can do Doyoung, you’re a danger man, if they leave I’m done for.”

He chuckles lowly. “Don’t you trust me, sweetheart? My maid is no longer here, she testified against me and fled the country, so obviously I have no intention of ruining my place with anyone’s blood while she’s gone.” A smile crosses his face and it makes you uneasy.

You shouldn’t have done what you did next, but for the sake of writing a damn good article for Neo chronicles, you knew you had to. This trip would’ve been a waste of time and effort. It took you months to convince your boss to get you an interview with Doyoung, the notorious vampire that was just found guilty of capital murder.

He could tear you to shreds in moments with his hands and teeth, but something told you to ask that he be free..just for a few minutes.

He leans forward and keeps your eyes in his gaze. “You want them to release these cuffs, don’t you?”

You swallow hard then look up at the head police officer.

“He won’t cooperate unless you leave and take the handcuffs with you, please…” you beg, but the officer immediately shakes his head.

“Under strict orders from the judge, we cannot do that. It’s a miracle that we were even allowed to bring him back here.”

The tall man says without budging.

Doyoung turns to look at him. “Officer...these cuffs really hurt..it’ll only be for a few minutes..please.”

The officer furrows his eyebrows.

“Officer..I promise it’ll only take 15 minutes.” You continue.

“Fine...we’ll be right outside the door.”

You’re surprised to see that the officer agrees. He takes his key and opens up the cuffs. He then places them beside you on your chair.

“Slap these on the son of a bitch if he tries anything.”

You nod. A part of you felt so uneasy now that you were alone with him, but you had to make the most of it and get some information out of him while you could. No one could do what you were about to do, for Doyoung would be put away for life in a few days.

The door clicks and the room falls silent.

Doyoung turns to you and already starts to heal his wrists. “Well, then...should we get started?”

“Where are you from?” You ask.

He raises an eyebrow and throws an arm over the head of his seat.

“I’m from this city, dear.. I was just raised in a very different one...a few hundred years ago, without the cars, without the noise..”

“You’re the first of your kind that society has come across. Are there any more like you?”

He chuckles then looks at you and tilts his head. “There’s no one like me..”

You lick your lips quickly and lean forward. “Are there any more vampires, Doyoung?”

“Of course there are, some lurk in the shadows, some live boldly as the very doctors that take care of you. No one from my bloodline is alive however.” His gaze shifts downward as if he’s reminiscing.

“How do the vampires survive without being caught?”

He looks back up at you. “We just feed on animals to get by.”

Your heart began to race, you were finally getting information that no one else knew about, for Doyoung never spoke a word to investigators looking for answers about vampires.

“So why did you feed on humans and kill them instead of changing them?”

“For survival, sweetheart. I’m a man with very expensive taste..I’ve been killing humans for years, but I got lazy and decided to not run from city to city..I’d take out anyone that was evil or treated others like shit..some of my victims deserved it, but I’m sure you already knew that.”

You looked to the side. You did notice that he mainly killed other murderers or robbers.

“Furthermore, humans have polluted the earth so badly, the taste of animals that feed off of diseased grass is just disgusting. I couldn’t take it anymore.” His face winces.

“And human blood..is it good?”

Doyoung smirks. “Oh, my love, you have no idea. It’s sweet and savory, there’s nothing like it..and if I may say, it’s even better when the subject surrenders willingly.”

“Did your subjects surrender willingly?”

He looks up and tries to think. He taps his chin. “No..I don’t think any of those bastards surrendered, they were quick fixes to my thirst. There was one woman though..Hmm what was her name?...Was it Diamond or Daisy?”

You closed your eyes as you listened to him struggle to remember the names of his victim.

“Darlene..her real name was Darlene, but she went by Tiffany at the strip club she worked at.”

“Ahhh! Yes! Darlene..she was sweet, magnificent. I remember taking her in the back of my car, she was ecstatic. She felt amazing around me, so warm. Her body shook as I stretched her out and played with her beautiful womanhood..such a shame.. she was so willing.”

You swallowed hard as tears filled your eyes. Doyoung was making light of a dark situation that ended in the murder of a young woman just trying to live her life.

He leans forward to get your attention. “First..I tasted her lips, then I placed my tongue around her hard nubs. I traced my tongue down her abdomen and all the way...down, before letting it rest on her folds. I licked up her essence and listened to her moan and breathe heavily. I can still hear the rush of her blood in her veins. I can still taste her trembling core on the tip of my tongue, and feel her velvety walls around my fingers.”

You cross your legs as his voice lowers more and more with each sentence.

His dark eyes hold onto yours as his smile grows. He can smell the pool building in your underwear.

“In and out, I moved in and out, circling around her bud before she came hard all over my mouth. But I licked it up and kissed her thigh as she begged for more. She tasted delicious and brain became flooded with thoughts of just how wonderful her blood would taste too. So I wrapped her legs around my waist and pushed into her, sliding in between her delicious and wet folds and hitting her sweet spot over and over.”

“Doyoung..” you turn away and gulp, but he grabs your chin within a split second of standing up in front of you.

He tilts your head upwards and gazes down at your lips.

“I placed two fingers into her mouth...just like this.” 

On instinct, your mouth falls open, allowing him to place two fingers onto your tongue. Your mind went crazy, half of it screaming for you to look away from the dangerous man, the other half saying “yes, God, yes.”

You sat with your mouth agape, waiting for him to continue.

“If only you could taste her...nonetheless, when she came again, her eyes rolled in the back of her head and the veins of her neck stuck out to me, begging to be punctured into. I sucked her dry even as she clenched around me from the overwhelming pleasure.”

He withdrew his fingers, licking them as his eyes held onto yours.

“Your lips must be delicious too.”

You snapped yourself out of your daze and shook your head.

“Doyoung, what the hell?”

He sits back into his chair. “Any more questions, love?”

You clear your throat again and look at your iPad.

“Uhh..what are your abilities?”

He smirks. “Well, I’m sure you can imagine one of them. But in addition to that, we are fast, strong, powerful beings. Some can read minds, some can hypnotize..we are what humans aim to be, perfect beings.”

Your face grows into one of disgust. “With the exception of having the burning need to murder, right?”

He chuckles once more and rolls his eyes. “Humans kill all the time, what makes us so different if we do it for survival? Murders are done out of rage against those that are simply different in terms of religion, ethnicity, or sexual orientation all the time, why aren’t you interviewing those bastards?”

You hesitate.

He leans towards you and crosses his arms.

“What if you could make this world a better place by getting rid of those that commit crimes against the helpless? I can see that you’re one that believes in justice.. you can be like me, but use your abilities for good..”

You shake your head. “Absolutely not, you’re a monster. Just because you killed for survival does not negate the fact that you still took many lives.”

He leans back and nods. “Oh, pity then. I thought I’d have a partner for my getaway. I would’ve loved to keep such a pretty face by my side..”

Your eyes widen, you lean back and reach for the handcuffs..but they’re not there.

He jumps up from his seat.

You stand up as well. “What are you doing?”

But within seconds, your arms are behind your back and locked in the handcuffs that he stole from beside you.

“Doyoung!”

He pushes your body so that it lays back down on the love seat. You stare in horror as he crawls over you while looking up your scared face through his lashes.

He licks his lips.

“Thank you for giving me this chance to get away..”

“Help!!” You call out and soon the police break through the double doors.

Doyoung flicks his head towards them and holds out his hand. “Halt!”

He yells and they stop in their tracks.

You cry out. “Doyoung!!” But he’s already dug into each and every one’s necks and ripped into their throats.

Blood platters across the room and the bodies fall down dead almost unanimously as Doyoung moves incredibly fast. He appears as a blur one moment and the next moment, he is over you again, but this time with the lower half of his face covered in crimson liquid and his eyes intense.

He licks your collarbone, slowly trailing his tongue up your neck then to your chin. You tremble and cry as your heart races.

“Mmmmm...sweetheart, I’d take you right here, but you’ll taste so much better when you give in to me completely, I’ll see you soon.”

He disappears, you only hear the breaking of a window behind you.

You close your eyes tightly and sob.

The police officers that were outside in their cars immediately run into the house when they see that Doyoung has flown away.

They open your handcuffs and console you as you turn away from all of the dead bodies on the floor.

When things finally settled, you noticed that Doyoung had taken your recorder, leaving you without proof that this interview even happened.

———

[3 Months Later]

A national manhunt for Doyoung had been going on for months, no one saw the man or..creature. The good part about his absence was that there were no more killings. You tried your best to explain what happened that day, but you couldn’t. Everything felt blurry, all you could feel was this longing to be with him again. He had you under his grasp in just a few minutes, but that partially wasn’t your fault. You were hypnotized, just as the police officer taking him out of handcuffs was.

But you couldn’t help but feel guilty when you thought about the lives lost that day, the families that weren’t with their loved ones anymore because of your weakness. You swore it would never happen again.

You were released from your job at the Neo Chronicles, your boss was embarrassed and dealt with the harshest treatment from not only the legal system, but from the media as well. No one understood how such a huge mistake could be made. They had him and were ready to punish him for his crimes, but in just a few minutes, they lost him, the only vampire known to man.

You worked from home now, uploading conspiracy theories to your own website where people could submit photos, videos or written accounts of their experiences with the supernatural. They could do this anonymously if they wished. You wrote about Doyoung and the vampire community, you even went out at night at farms or in the woods to try to catch vampires in the act of taking blood from them, but you had no luck.

You would set your life to finding Doyoung, you’d make him pay for what he did to you. Even if you were intrigued by him, you’d make him suffer. However, you couldn’t help but wonder why he didn’t kill you as well.

———

[One Month Later]

You were about to do some research on cult practices that involved sacrifices, when you heard a knock at your door. You jumped up in your chair at your desk and turned to the door.

You swallowed hard. Had you done too much digging? Was someone tracking you? Were you being watched all this time?

Maybe you shouldn’t have visited the dark web.

You stand up slowly and walk to the door. You hear another knock.

You grab a tennis racket you placed by your door after playing tennis earlier that day. You then look through the peephole and see him.

Your heart started to race. Should you call the authorities? Should you scream for help? No. They would just be too slow, they’d be gone by the time a shriek escaped your throat.

You quickly opened it and held up your racket.

“Ah!!!” You yelled as you swung it, but he grabbed it with one hand and broke in two effortlessly.

Your eyes widened as he stood there with one corner of his mouth tilted upwards. His eyes sparkled in the darkness.

Your jaw fell open while the rackets ripped to your doorstep in two separate pieces.

“Invite me in...I have the recorder.” He demands through a husky tone.

You breathe heavily. “I-I..”

“May I come in...sweetheart?” He pouts.

You sigh and nod. “Yes.”

You didn’t want to but he had the evidence that you needed. Maybe you could just take it from him and he’d leave. With that piece of evidence, you could get your job back or make money online with your testimony.

Doyoung speeds past you and sits at your desk.

“Ooooo..satanic cults...interesting!” He searches through your computer.

“Hey!” You lock your door and walk towards him.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“How have you been doing, my love? Have you been well? Probably not...seeing that you’re stuck at home now, researching this nonsense.” He ignores your question and stands up from the desk.

You walk after him into the dining room.

“Answer me! Why are you here?”

“Have you thought about my proposal? You’ve had a lot of time..”

“Why didn’t you turn yourself in?!” You grab a knife from your kitchen counter and hold it behind your back.

He takes a look at your 4 day old pizza on your stove top and gags. “You and I both know I wouldn’t dare out well in prison.”

“So why the hell are you here?!” You say a little louder.

He turns to you suddenly and flips you around. In just a few seconds, he pins you against the wall with your cheek pressed against it and your hands behind your back.

You grunt as he presses in your back with your elbow.

“Did you know that you’ve been on my mind every night since that day?” He forces the knife out of your hand and trails the tip down the side of your face. 

You wince as you anticipate it breaking your skin, but he only drags it down your neck delicately and watches goosebumps decorate your skin.

He flips you back around so you face him now, he looks down at your chest and breathes heavily over it. He still holds both of your wrists in his hand, clenching his fist around them tightly as you squeal.

“The way you smell, the way you feel, the way you taste...it’s all haunted me..I want you so badly..”

You blink rapidly. “If you want to kill me, why don’t you just do it already.”

Doyoung chuckles and hangs his head low.

“I’m here to ask you again...join me..live as I live and give up this boring life..” he licks long your neck as you struggle in his grasp.

You shake your head.

“No..I don’t want you..I don’t want to be a monster like you.”

He laughs as he smirks while watching your lips. His closeness to you makes you dizzy, but you try to remain firm. 

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m too old to be fooled, I know you have a recording of our little interview on your ipad..I know you don’t really need that recorder..so why did you invite me in?”

Your face falls. How did he know that you had a second audio recording saved to your iPad.

“Okay...fine, I wanted a reason to let you in..” you search his eyes. 

He smiles and watches your lips.

“Oh? And now that I’m in, what else do you want?”

You pant and lick your lips. “I want..to feel what that woman felt..”

He kisses your neck. “Like this?” He whispers against your heated skin.

Your eyes close as your head falls back. “Yes..take me to my room..” you beg breathily.

He wraps his arms around you and by the time you open your eyes, you’re on your bed with your legs around his waist.

He grinds his covered member into you and listens to you moan.

He continues to kiss your neck and bite teasingly.

He licks over the warm area and moans. The cold touch of his fingertips makes you yearn for him more. 

“This is what I missed, the taste of your beautiful skin..”

He looks down at you through wide eyes, he adores your lips and eyes, watching as you finally give in to him like he’s longed for.

He leans down and kisses your lips.

You reach above your head and place your hands under your pillow. You grab a specialized collar.

“Look at me, Doyoung.” You whisper in between kisses.

He releases your lips and looks up. You suddenly lock the collar around his throat.

He hisses, flying to the ceiling and grabbing at it in an attempt to take it off, but he has no luck.

The collar made of pure silver sends violent and painful shockwaves through his body whenever he touches it.

It tightens slowly to stop him from breathing.

His eyes grow. “What..what have you done to me?” He says as he dangles from the ceiling and looks down at you on the bed with a smile on your face.

“Oh Doyoung, you’re old but you still didn’t see this coming..” you chuckle, everything went as planned.

“Please...please stop this...” he reaches out for you as he gasps for air.

 You stand up from the bed and look up at him.

“I’ll explain this quickly since you’ll be unconscious in about three minutes..”

He loses his grip from the ceiling, falling onto the bed limply.

“Do you remember a tall fellow that you bit one evening as he walked home from work?”

Doyoung groans in pain.

“I’ll take that as a no..” you continue. “Well, this victim’s name was Johnny, he owns Johnny’s Café and locked up kinda late that night when you found him. He became your prey and in the blink of an eye, was left to die in a dirty alleyway. No one was there to help him, no one…” your eyes start to water.

“He was my best friend..and you killed him. Or so I thought..you see, you made a grave mistake with this “murder.” You didn’t ensure his death by sucking until you heard the very last beat of his pulse. You got what you wanted and left him there with a faint pulse. He was able to pull his phone out and call me..I found him through Find My iPhone, and when I inspected his injuries..I realized that he had been attacked by a vampire.”

Doyoung’s eyes roll in the back of his head as he takes his final breaths.

“It was my first time seeing such a wound since I was young. Guess what, Doyoung? My family has hunted vampires since the beginning of time..my grandparents were sure that they had killed all of you in this city...but it seems we hadn’t, and Johnny’s attack is what brought this issue to my attention. Lucky for me, you fell right into my hands, making it easy for me to gain more information about your kind and the actual status of vampires in our city. I was ill-prepared for your hypnosis, however. That’s why I couldn’t lock you down the first time.”

You walk up to him and caress his pale face. You then yank his arm and drag him through your house and down to your basement.

You throw him down the stairs and walk down.

You both hear yelling and crying. 

That’s when Doyoung sees him. That night starts to come back to him, the night when he attacked Johnny.

Johnny is chained to a wall in your basement. His hair is long and disheveled. He yells as he begs for food. His fangs stick out, he looks weak and terrified.

Doyoung gasps. “I didn’t mean for this to happen..”

“This is where he will have to stay, I can’t turn him in because he’s my best friend, but I also can’t kill him or set him free to murder innocent people like a maniac..I will fix him, I swear I will.”

You flip the lid off of a coffin and throw Doyoung into it after much effort. Luckily, he was quite weak from the collar already.

“Even though you turned my best friend into a monster, I am thankful to you for bringing all of your kind’s secrets to light. I will find each one, and I will kill them.” You smirk.

“Enjoy prison, you monster.”

Doyoung only smiles. “I’ll be back, sweetheart. Hunting you will make for a lifetime of joy.”

You shut the lid over the coffin and nail it shut.

You drag the coffin upstairs using a pulley system then call the police to retrieve him.

—————

[2 Years Later]

You enjoy your life as a journalist once again. You gained wealth and notoriety for your interview with Doyoung. You also hunt and kill vampires that killed animals, you finally had used the training from your family to do so.

“I never thought you’d have to do this..” your mom said one day when you visited her for tea.

“I thought..we killed them all and kept you and the rest of our world safe.”

“They’re like roaches..they never die.” Your dad yelled from the living room.

“It is what it is..” you took a sip from your cup.

“But tell me, once one has changed...is there any way to turn them back?”

You thought of Johnny and how you had to watch him suffer now for the past two years. You loved him dearly and spent hours on the dark web searching for clues as to what to do, but nothing worked.

You didn’t tell your parents, for fear that they would tell you to kill him immediately or they’d do it themselves.

You wouldn’t give up on you, you just couldn’t.

The two of you were friends for her 10 years, how could you even think of killing him?

Your mother laughed. “Honey..we’ve tried everything, there’s no way…once they change, the hunger roars through them, making them impossible to tame.”

You nodded. 

“What is it you're not telling me?” She tilted her head when she saw the look of worry in your eyes.

“Nothing, it’s just...some of these people are good people..I just wish we didn’t have to kill them..”

“People? They’re not people! They’re savages and self-centered barbarians! Don’t fall for it, all they do is lure in victims for their own gain. They have no conscience.” Your father walked into the dining room with a freshly carved stake.

“Here.” He hands it to you. “You kill those bastards without any thought in your head, they’re meant to seduce you, make you think that they’re innocent humans with beating and good hearts, but they’re not! Kill them before they kill us.”

You nod and take it from him.

—————

[1 Year Later]

You receive news that Doyoung has broken free from prison. No one knows of his whereabouts so all eyes turn to you.

“We can set up police around your place to keep watch if you’d like..” your boss tells you.“There’s a chance that he’ll come after you first.”

“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary.”

You weren’t scared at all, and having police around would only draw more attention to you than you needed. What if they heard Johnny in your basement? What if they saw you bringing in live rabbits in the middle of the night?

And if something were wrong, they’d eventually go into your basement only to find a series of hunting weapons and digging gear, for you always buried the vampires you killed deep in the woods.

You headed home and walked in slowly.

The air felt crisp and cool, the night sky peered in through your windows. You looked around and that’s when you noticed that one of them were open, the wind blowing the curtain that should’ve been drawn over it.

You hold your stake close to you and quickly walk over to it.

You slam it down shut and turn the lock, but by the time you turn back around to head to your room, you see Doyoung.

“Hello, sweetheart.”

He stands just a few feet away from you with blood dripping down his mouth and neck in a steady pool.

You step back and walk around in a circle.

Doyoung smirks and walks in a circle towards you too.

“You knew I would be here, and yet, you came home on time..are you not afraid of me?”

He chuckles and holds his arms out.

You raise your stake in front of you.

“Do I look like I’m afraid of you?”

Doyoung tilts his head and pouts. “I’m not sure, your heart is racing, the sweat on your forehead is building, your grip on the stake is weak..”

“I didn’t give you permission to come in..”

He shakes his head. “No no, you didn’t..but someone in this house did.”

Your steps falter for a moment and you swallow hard.

When you listen closely, you hear something happening in your kitchen.

Then your eyes widen when you realize.

“Johnny..”

You gasp and run into the kitchen.

Doyoung laughs loudly.

You scream when you see Johnny sucking blood from a woman’s neck in the middle of your kitchen.

“No!!!” 

“I’ve missed you, my love...but I see you kept him around, locked up in the basement for fun..I used my senses to contact him and tell him to give me permission. You see, he doesn’t enjoy being locked up in your basement.”

Doyoung stands behind you and crosses his arms while leaning against the doorway.

“Johnny!! Stop this please, this isn’t you!” You try to shake him off of the woman but all Johnny sees is red. He has never had human blood before and now his eyes have been opened. You start to cry, your stake drops out of your hand.

“He can’t hear you, he’s enjoying what will now be his favorite meal in the kitchen.”

Doyoung grabs you by the neck and slams you against the wall. You yell out in pain.

“And here we are again, but this time we have some unfinished business, you and I...what should I do with you?”

You shake your head as he lifts your body nearly four feet off the ground while choking you.

“Please Doyoung, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have turned you in..please, just let me go, I’ll run far from here and leave the two of you alone to kill as you please.” Seeing Johnny like this leaves you broken. You can’t believe he’s free to live as a monster after all of your efforts to protect him.

“But running will only make me want you more, I enjoy this game that we play..” 

“Doyoung…” you tap his wrist as it becomes difficult to breathe.

“Being choked isn't so nice, is it?”

“What..what do you want from me?”

“I want you, but I like that you’re a challenge, you make my life exciting, and now that I have you here, I want to let you go again just so I can watch you run.” He grins.

“You can shoot some arrows or throw a few stakes, how about it, y/n?”

“Fuck you! I’m not some toy!”

You try to wiggle out of his grasp.

“Then take my offer..I’ll only ask one more time..will you give in to me?”

You start to shake your head, but Johnny rises up from the body on the floor. He runs his hands through his long black hair and licks his lips while panting.

“Y/n..I feel...amazing.” He smiles at you. Even after all these years of you feeding him small animals and keeping him locked up, he still looked at you with love.

You cry harder. “No..Johnny..please don’t give in, I can fix you, I’ll find a way to turn you back.”

He chuckles then steps closer to you. He already looks healthier with the heavy dose of human blood he just consumed. “And you’ve been searching relentlessly for this cure for how long now?”

Doyoung lets your body slide back down the wall as he loosens his grip.

“I’m so close, just trust me.”

“Y/n..Look at how happy he is, don’t you want to be happy too?”

“yes..join us..” Johnny traces his finger down the side of your face.

“No!” You suddenly push Doyoung off of you and dive to the floor for your stake.

You jump back up but Doyoung takes you into his arms.

“Is this what you want?! To die instead of being with your best friend forever?!”

You press the tip of the stake into his chest, you’re so close, but your mind doesn’t allow you to push harder.

“Do it! Kill me!” He doesn’t put you under hypnosis because he wants to see what your true desire is.

Doyoung watches your sad eyes as you struggle to stab him.

Him being so close to you makes you weak, you don’t know why, but you fall into him more.

You second guess everything and your will weakens more and more each second.

You lean forward and kiss Doyoung’s lips finally.

You relax into his arms as his tongue traces over your lips to enter.

You swallow back your disgust from the taste of blood on his lips and close your eyes. A rush runs through your body, it’s like you’re being commanded by waves at the beach, your body just enjoying the feeling of floating in his arms.

The stake falls out of your weak hands. Johnny comes up behind you, kissing your neck from behind while circling his arms around your waist.

If you could just distract them for a few more moments..you could catch them off guard, take them to your room and grab the stake under your pillow..just a few more minutes.. 

Then..a sharp pain makes you jolt. Your eyes fly open. Johnny’s fangs dig into your neck. He sucks hard while you groan.

“Johnny!” You cry out, but then you moan as a feeling of euphoria washes over your body. You feel amazing, your mind goes blank, a soft, tingly sensation makes you weak as blood rushed from your veins and to his mouth. You’re drunk from their love and you want more.

Doyoung continues to kiss your lips and smiles when he feels you finally giving in to him.

Your heartbeat drives him crazy, he just can’t stop thinking about how good you must taste, so he takes the two of you to your room and lays down beside you on your bed.

Your neck is bent backwards towards Johnny behind you still, your hard nipples covered by your dress are just begging for his mouth.

“Do you give in to me, dear?” His lustful voice echoes in your ear.

“Yes..” you whimper.

In one swift move, Doyoung tears your dress off and throws it to the floor. He licks your hard nubs passionately, darting his tongue out and playing around with them with the tip.

Johnny continues to suck slowly, his hand reaching to your front side. He placed two fingers in between your legs, swatting away your thighs so your legs open more.

You are enraptured by them, completely forgetting your plan. But it didn’t matter anyway, your fate was sealed the moment Johnny bit you. He would either suck you dry or leave you alive to turn into one of them.

A part of you feels regret, but another part has come to terms with your situation. Right now you were focused on the yearning in your chest that made you tremble and the building heat between your legs that needed to be tended to.

Without warning, Doyoung bites your breast and sucks hard after latching his lips around the nipple.

He groans as he listens to you yelp.

You run your hand through his hair. “Yes..that feels so good.”  You felt like you were already climaxing with both men sucking your blood at the same time.

Johnny’s fingers push past the waistband of your underwear and presses against your folds.

Doyoung sucks harder, the taste of your blood is sweet and intoxicating, he never wants to stop.

You feel Johnny’s long fingers rub circles into your clit, your legs widen more as you ache for more. He lets go of your neck and nibbles your ear.

“Can I?” He asks seductively.

“Yes..” you bite your bottom lip, your body becoming more and more turned on from Doyoung’s mouth and Johnny’s touch.

You can feel Johnny’s hard member against your back as he pushes one finger into your throbbing opening, sliding it in effortlessly. 

“You’re wet…” he pulls his finger out and places it into your mouth. You moan while licking his finger.

“So wet..” he then pushes two fingers in, your body flinches as he pumps in and out of your. Your head is dizzy, you felt that you’ve lost too much blood. You’re too weak and Doyoung feels it too.

He gives your breasts a few more kitten licks to clean up the blood on it, then looks into your eyes.

“How do you feel, my love?”

“I’m-I’m dizzy..” you moan shortly after as Johnny adds a third finger and presses upward while inside your pussy.

Doyoung smiles when he sees your low eyes. “It’s time for you to feed..”

Your eyes widen. “What?”

Doyoung uses his nail and digs a vertical line into his throat.

“Taste me..”

“N-no.” You shake your head.

“This is what you are now, y/n..just taste him and you’ll know..” Johnny whispers into your ear.

You stick your tongue out hesitantly and lick up the trail of blood on his neck. It tastes wonderful, amazing and different. You didn’t know what to describe it as but you felt that rush from earlier run through your body once more.

You lick again, this time, placing your mouth into the wound and actually sucking more blood out. 

Doyoung groans while pushing his pants down and taking his member out. He strokes it up and down and pants as you suck hard. You can’t use your fangs yet, but the feeling is still magnificent for him as well.

You need more, a hunger builds in your body and you tilt over Doyoung more to apply pressure.

Johnny withdraws his fingers, allowing you to completely kneel over Doyoung’s lap now.

He lays flat on the bed and watches you mount him. You look beautiful naked, like a goddess. Your eyes are wide with hunger and desire and he’s happy to be at the center of it all. He aligns his cock with your opening, watching as you slide down onto it slowly while wincing.

You breathe heavily and lean forward so you can suck his neck again. You place your hands on either side of his head and move up and down slowly, your body already clenching around him as he fills you up completely.

Johnny wraps his hand around his aching cock and strokes it as you ride Doyoung.

Your body becomes cold even as you sweat from the constant movement.

Your mind is flooded with sounds of Johnny’s moans coupled with the new sound of blood rushing through Doyoung’s veins and into your mouth. 

He guides you down onto him by placing both hands on your ass. You push down onto him harder and faster, moving your hips so that his cock curves into you and presses against that spot every time.

You whimper as your movements stutter.

Doyoung flips you over onto your back, he watches your mouth, covered in blood, fall open into a loud moan. “Come on, sweetheart. Tell me how badly you want to cum.” Doyoung says with an evil smirk across his face covered in your blood now.

He thrusts into you hard and places both hands on your knees. He pushes them further apart and watches as he slams himself into you.

“Johnny..she feels so good..she’s just like you imagined for all these years..”

“But how does she taste?” Johnny strokes himself faster as he aims for your breast.

“Her blood tastes sweeter than any berry, and her pussy? Well, you’ll just have to try that yourself.” He goes faster, so fast you can only feel a satisfying vibration that stimulates your clit.

You throw your head back. “Fuck..Doyoung..”

“Do you want me to stop?” He stops suddenly to tease you.

“No no no no, keep going..please!” You beg in a high pitched tone almost embarrassingly.

He resumes his speed, watching your hands grip the sheets and your eyes roll in the back of your head as you cum.

Doyoung grunts and releases inside you.

He milks himself out completely as you shake from your orgasm. You see stars and entire galaxies, a feeling washing over you like no other feeling.

You gasp and watch Doyoung pull out. He moves to the side while watching his cum leaks out of your entrance.

Johnny then flips your limp body over. He wraps and arm around your waist and pulls you against his hard cock. You’re sensitive so you cry out from suddenly being pushed into by his long member. 

He grabs your hair and bends your neck backward before biting into it to suck more of your blood. Your overwhelming sensitivity soon fades away and your climax starts to build again, the feeling in the pit of your stomach becoming nearly unbearable once more.

Johnny’s nails dig into your waist, slamming your ass against his hips as he reaches your depths over and over. He goes crazy from the feeling of your silky walls tightening around his cock. He wants to bury his cum so deep inside your pussy, that it leaks for days. And your sweet blood, he could drink it forever, he could drink you dry.

But Doyoung won’t allow that. “That’s enough..she’ll pass out if we take any more.”

Johnny stops drinking but grunts as he goes harder and faster.

Your knees make an indent in the mattress, you hold onto Doyoung’s hands for support as your mouth falls open.

“Fuck…” all you can mutter are curse words as Johnny destroys you.

Doyoung kneels in front of you, his intimidating cock sticking out hard once again.

He strokes it. 

You open your mouth and stick your tongue out. You had to taste him, again. You craved him.

With low eyes, you maintain eye contact as he fills your mouth and hits the back of your throat. You flatten your tongue, licking the underside of it. You press your tongue hard against every vein then kiss the tip once he pulls back out.

He pushes back in faster this time, listening to you gag and watching as tear up.

You moan to send vibrations through his body. Doyoung throws his head back and mutters “shit..”

You gag again but breathe through your nostrils.

Johnny presses into you one more time before shooting milky strings across your walls. He pants while cursing then lowers himself so that he can taste you from behind. He licks up all the slick that has escaped and sticks his tongue in as deep as possible.

The night went on for hours as you switched positions and brought each other to paradise too many times to count.

You collapsed onto the bed and fell asleep once the three of you were done.

———-

[The Next Morning]

For the first time, sunlight burnt your eyes and made you suffocate. You tried to jump up from the bed, but then you noticed that your legs and arms were tied to a bed that wasn’t yours. You looked around and saw that you were on it by yourself.

Where was Johnny? Where was Doyoung? Why did you feel a burning hunger in your chest?

You recognized the smell of an old building and looked above you. It looked like you were in some sort of castle. You were covered in a thin white sleeping gown that you didn’t recognize either.

“Doyoung!! Johnny!!”

A door in the corner of the room opens and in walks Doyoung with a smirk across his face and something in his hand.

“Good morning, sweetheart.”

“Doyoung..please, I don’t feel good.” You strain against the chains.

Your eyes widen when you realize what dangles from his grasp.

Johnny’s head..

“No!!!!” You scream loudly.

“Oh, like music to my ears..” Doyoung chuckles and dangles the head above your body.

He sees your body through the thin fabric, your breasts and perfect curves, the warmth between your legs that he missed so badly. He almost regretted his decision.

He bit his lip and watched you struggle.

“Doyoung!! Why?!” You sob.

“Because you’re mine, you can’t be his too!”

Doyoung walks back over to the door and chucks the head outside.

He walks back over to you. “Well, now that we know what happened to Johnny, we need to discuss what’ll happen to you.”

“What did you do to me?!” You say through gritted teeth.

“Actually..it was Johnny that turned you..not me, but I made sure to kill him this time.”

Your face fell. This was exactly what Doyoung wanted. He lured you in by using Johnny, then he got Johnny to change you. They both seduced you to crowd your mind and make you too filled with lust to care. And now, you turned into the very thing that you hated the most.

“Now you realize…” Doyoung nods and strokes the side of your face.

“I couldn’t just let you get away with exposing my secrets and putting me in jail..I mean, the sex was amazing, so amazing, but I still couldn’t let you get away with it.”

You shake your head. “Please..I’m yours, I’ll do anything. I always wanted to be yours but I was too stubborn.”

“And the stake under your pillow? Would you have used it against me?” He pouts.

“No! I was going to love you.”

“Love me? A monster?”

“Doyoung please!!”

“This is your prison now...and when you are free, look for me, I’ll be waiting for you, my love..” he walks out and leaves you alone still tied to the bed.

————

[3 Days Later]

You finally break your chains with your new strength. You run out of the room, but find that you are in an old castle. When you run through the destroyed halls and into the courtyard, you see nothing but ocean.

Doyoung left you on the notorious Gil-Eul Castle, a mansion on a secluded island that was hundreds of miles from the nearest coast. It was known as the meeting grounds for vampires long ago, but your family along with other hunters destroyed it, planting bombs in the form of air strikes to kill everyone inside.

You yelled into the sky and ran around rampantly, searching for anything to eat.

You felt like you were going insane without blood. You were literally burning from the inside out because of the lack of blood in your system.

————

[20 Years Later]

You survived the last 20 years off of fish and rats. You never stopped thinking about Doyoung and how you’d get your revenge. You’d kill him slowly, make him suffer like you had, and even though you didn’t look any older, you felt tired and weak from watching the years fly by in a broken castle.

Until one day..a ship approaches the building. You watch from above as several construction workers all onto the island.

You lurk in the shadows and wait until one of them has strayed away from the group.

The man turns around when he feels that he is being followed, but sees nothing.

He turns back around and continues walking.

You reach out from a hallway and grab him by the collar. You feed on him quickly then do the same with the other men. One by one, you kill each man to quench your plentiful years of undying thirst. 

But you’re not dumb, you save one of the men so that he can bring you back to your country. The man tells you that they had planned to clear the island and build a resort.

You take your tattered dress off and shower in the bathroom on board. You break down in tears when you feel warm water and soap on your skin for the first time in twenty years. You were finally free.

You find a set of clothes set aside by the workers and put them on. It’s a pair of sweatpants and t-shirt that’s not the right size, but it’ll have to work for now.

Once home, you hypnotize the man that brought you back.

“Tell them your team was attacked, you were the only one that survived. It was a man with fangs and pale skin. His name is Doyoung.”

The man nods, then walks off the ship and heads for the police station.

You, on the other hand, go in the opposite direction.

You thought about visiting your parents and letting them know that you were okay, but what would they say now that you were a vampire? Would they try to kill you?

You weren’t sure, so you continued walking to his mansion.

You closed your eyes and tried to focus, you knew that all vampires were connected and that if you tried hard enough, you could sense where he was.

It didn’t take long before you heard his voice. It was coming from an apartment about 10 miles away.

Of course he stayed in a nearby city.

You knocked on his door and waited for him to answer.

With round glasses on, he opened the door and smiled widely. “I knew you’d find me..”

“Invite me in.” Your voice was stern.

Doyoung nodded. “Of course.”

“Are you here to kill me?” He walks behind you.

“Yes.”

“Then go ahead.”

You turn to him.

“Why did you do this to me?”

“Life is pretty boring for an old man like me..I wanted to do something different.” He sits on the couch, then pats his thigh. “One last time before I say goodbye. I’ve missed you..”

You scoff. “You never came back, so I couldn’t really tell.”

“You were in solitary confinement, what could I do?”

You walk over to him and sit on his lap.

He placed his hands onto your ass and brought your body down onto his pelvis.

“Did you miss me?”

“No..”

He bucks into your clothes opening, brushing his hard member against it. “Are you sure?”

You bite your bottom lip, then reach to your back and pull out your stake.

You had made it with materials from the burnt down castle. You even engraved your initials into it, knowing that you’d use it to kill him.

“Yes..”

He smirks and licks his lips. “Are you ready?”

“Why aren't you scared?” Your brows furrow.

He chuckles. “I’ve been anticipating this moment for quite some time actually.”

You shake your head. “That’s not fair, this is too easy.”

He flips you over onto your back and suddenly you’re in his room and lying on his bed with him in between your legs. “And would you rather I make it difficult for you? Are you sure you want to wait another 20 years?”

You whimper as he commands your needy body effortlessly.

He grinds down into you. “If you won’t be mine willingly, then I would rather die..so are you ready, my love?”

You pause for a moment.

“Absolutely.” You press the stake into his chest, watching as his final breath leaves his beautiful lips.

[ultimatetornshipper]

So close yet so far

Trope tussle, enemies to lovers

Nightwing landed silently on the roof. A faint breeze ruffled his hair and he came to a stop when he heard something behind him. He swirled around and found nothing but shadows and a view of the city.

He turned, walking back to where he was, he looked around suspiciously. Either the guy who had given him the tip was lying or-

His thoughts were interrupted when he stepped in something small and hard. He lifted his foot and saw something shiny on the ground.

Nightwing went down on one knee and picked it up. It was a ring. A ring with what looked to be a very expensive diamond in it. He lifted it higher to inspect it better.

Suddenly a shadow dropped in front of him and plucked the ring from his hand.

Immediately disappearing right back where it came from after.

He jumped up and held his batons ready to strike. He moved in circles, trying to spot Noire before she could ambush him from the shadows again.

“Oh, Birdie, I’m flattered but I think we should get to know each other a bit better before we get married!” she whispered teasingly from behind him.

He spun around and spotted her as she put it on her left ring finger and admired it. She met his gaze and smirked, “We’ve only known each other a few months after all, though I’d be happy to keep the ring, “

“It’s not yours to keep, Noire,” he said pushing down a smile and running towards her. Making a grab for the ring, his hand simply curled around the air where it had been a mere second ago.

“I beg to differ,” she said simply as she avoided him in a swift movement, a teasing smile etching itself on her face and everything in him wanted to wipe it right off. Though in a very different manner than he would’ve wanted to a year ago.

Noire started running in the opposite direction and he grabbed her hand before she could get far.

She gave him a look of surprise over her shoulder before it slowly melted into a smirk.

The moonlight lit up her hair, the silver bouncing off of her black leather- looking suit. Her blue eyes shone with mischief and recognition tugged at the edges of his mind.

Before he could think about it too much, she dodged beneath their connected hands and twisted his arm, trying to stop him from keeping her there. He copied her move quickly, bringing them back on equal footing, he sent her a teasing smile of his own, catching her off guard.

While she was distracted he pulled her that she was standing right in front of him.

He ignored the ever lingering urge to kiss her and tried prying the ring from her fingers. Before he could find it, though, she leaned forward and threw him over her shoulder. He landed on the floor at her feet staring up at her.

The full moon glowed behind her, her black hair shining silver and here, with the night glowing around her, she looked magical.

She leaned down, blue eyes meeting blue.

Their noses less than a foot apart, he could count the freckles on her face. Wisps of her hair that had escaped her plait were flying above his cheek, only inches from touching him. She smiled at him and her hand reached behind his ear.

“What’s here behind your ear, mon oisoau?” she said softly, before producing the ring and holding it right between his eyes. The diamond shimmered in the moonlit night, but somehow her eyes managed to shine more than the rare gemstone.

He made a grab for it just as she pulled away, standing up straight. Her beautiful laughter filled the air and his hand hung in the empty space for a few seconds as he watched her, captivated with the way one sound could sound so happy and lonely all at once.

She calmed down and met his gaze. The atmosphere changed as the silence stretched between them. They stared at each other for a few moments on the Gotham rooftop in the middle of the night, and for a moment they were the only people in the world.

She sighed, tilting her head and giving him a sad smile, “So close, yet so far, birdie,”

Noire turned around and he jumped up and grabbed her waist, “Not so fast, kitty cat,”

She grabbed his hand, nails digging into his skin, and with a force he wouldn’t expect from her small stature she spinned him. She tried pulling her hand free but he held on tightly and he pulled her close. He could feel her heart hammering above his stomach and her breath near his collarbone.

Her hair under his nose he caught the faintest whiff of cookie dough and roses that he could only smell in the rare moments when they were this close. He longed to forget about the ring, to forget about the past and to just keep her there in his arms for all of eternity.

“So close, yet so far,” he whispered into her hair, dreading the words he knew he needed to say. He swallowed, “Just give me back the diamond, we'll call it even,”

“No,” she breathed. She grabbed his waist and in a movement he couldn’t quite catch she was suddenly sitting on his shoulders and strangling him with her legs.

“Do you ever wonder how we got here?” she asked him, casually as though they were merely chatting in a coffee shop, while he fought to get her off of him.

He threw his body forward and she fell off but got back on her legs quickly before he could reach her.

“What do you mean?” he asked as he extended his baton.

He dived towards her and she jumped over him, landing behind him and sweeping his legs out from under him as soon as he got up.

He landed on the ground with a hard thud. She pinned him down, straddling his waist and holding his arms above his head.

“You know,” she breathed, as she leaned close, their noses about touching, “here. We used to hate each other remember? We used to throw insults and hit hard, handing out the best blows we could, playing dirty, all of it. And now…,”

He took the opportunity of her being distracted to flip them over so that he was now on top of her instead.

She gasped but couldn’t stop him, so she settled for glaring at him as he smirked down at her.

He leaned in close, his mouth next to her ear and even though he knew exactly what she meant, he whispered the only reply he could think of, “Now?”

Noire lifted her head up, her mouth a hair away from his cheek, he could feel the warmth of her breath on his face, “Now we're here, and things are different and-,”

Suddenly she pulled her head back and knocked it against his. It through him off enough for her to escape and when he looked up she was about to jump off the edge of the building and escape.

“Oh no you don’t,” he whispered. He grabbed his grappling gun and shot it at her as she jumped. The hook grabbed her belt and pulled her back to him in seconds.

She let out a small yelp when the hook pulled her back.

Noire hit him with enough force to knock him down but he didn’t loose his balance. He stood there for a moment and it was weird, how right it felt to have her in his arms, again.

For a few minutes they just stood there, his chest to her back and he was certain that she could feel his heart beating against her spine. Nothing but the sound of their heavy breathing filled the late Gotham night.

She pushed away from him and he suddenly felt cold without her against him.

She turned around, furious, with a storm brewing behind her eyes. It was a look he knew well on her and it reminded him of the beginning of their… whatever this was.

She punched him in the jaw, hard and unapologetically. The same way he wanted to kiss her.

Boy, past him would deck him if he could hear him now. In fact she probably would too if she could hear what he was thinking.

“Are you even listening to me?!” she screamed, her face flashing in anger and he realize that she’d been yelling at him about something while he was lost in thought.

He took in her flushed face and the way strands of escaped hair stuck to her forehead. The black blending into her mask of the same colour.

The little crease between her brow and the way she set her jaw made him nostalgic and he decided that she definitely still looked cute when she was mad.

He took a step towards her and tilted his chin, giving her a lazy smile, “And if I wasn’t?”

She huffed and rolled her eyes, crossing her arms, “You know, for a hero, you can be a real dick sometimes,”

Dick paused for a moment. There was no way she knew. No, she wouldn’t knowingly make that pun.

He burst out laughing at the thought of just how mad she’d be if she found out about it. Her nose would do that cute thing where it scrunched in disgust and the tips of her ears would turn bright red.

She gave him a confused look but he could see the curiosity in her face. Nightwing leaned closer to her and lifted her chin with his thumb and index finger, tracing her jaw.

Their lips were only inches apart and he heard her breath hitch. He met her gaze and smirked.

“Oh darling,” he whispered lowly, “You have no idea,”

He slowly started leaning in, till their lips were only a breath apart. He could see the lighter flecks of blue in her eyes and the almost faded scars on her cheek.

He could see the finest of details on her leather mask and the sharp ends of her canines as she bit her lip. Her gaze searched his and after a moment she seemed to have found what she looked for.

She smiled, closed her eyes and tilted her head and he took it as a silent sign of permission.

He closed his eyes and leaned forward. He met nothing but air as he kept leaning forward. Bewildered, his eyes shot open to find her standing on the other side of the roof.

Her silhouette stood out against the bright full moon. Her eyes shone with mischief and the ring on her finger sparkled, taunting him but he didn’t mind the loss as much as he would’ve once. Strange, what a few months could do to change everything.

She gave him a teasing smirk. Noire brought her fingertips to her lips and blew him a kiss, “Maybe next time, mi amore,”

She disappeared into the night again and his arms have never felt as cold and empty.

In another life, where they were on the same side from the start, things would be so much easier. She could be by his side and they could dance on Gotham rooftops instead of fight.

But then again what would the fun in that be?

[high-functioning-lokipath]

Unusual Way - Loki x Reader - Words: 3,294 (including song lyrics)

A/N: Reader is Silver Shadow. However, this doesn't follow the same 'first meeting/falling in love' sequence as "Hurting Each Other".

Loki and you were best friends and had been for about 2 years now since he moved into the tower. It all started the day he'd moved in while you were out on a mission and no one had the brilliant idea to tell you that you were now sharing your floor with someone.

~ 2 Years Ago~

So there you were, exhausted and dirty from the fight, looking forward to a nice hot shower. You'd already taken off your cape in the elevator and as you got off and walked down the hallway to your bedroom, you started to pull at the zipper of your jacket.

"I must say, I wasn't expecting you to be so forward."

"Who's there?" You yelled, not recognizing the voice that spoke to you. You whipped around, trying to see who it was that was speaking.

"Hello," A man suddenly said, appearing directly in front of you. You throw a quick punch but your hand goes right through him and he disappears. "Over here!" He exclaims, waving to you from a few steps away. You quickly draw one of your knives and throw it at him. Again it goes right through him.

"I said, who are you?" You demand, not having had a chance to get a good look at his face yet.

"Tsk tsk," He says, appearing once more, a few feet now away from you. "So impatient." As he talks you focus on the vase setting on the hallway table behind him and start drawing it towards you. If you time it just right, you can either hit him or, if he's not there again, stop it in time before it hits you. "I am Loki, of Asgard! And I am burdened wi-OW!" He yells as the vase hits his head. "Will anyone ever let me finish that thought?"

“Loki?” You screeched. “What are you doing here? Do the others know?” You asked, rushing up to the admittedly handsome man. Even during his attack on New York you couldn’t help but go a little starry-eyed at his presence.

“I am here to help. I,” He sighed, rubbing the back of his head again. “I’m here to work with you and your little team.” Your eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Oh! Well, I, uh, sorry about that," You stuttered, gesturing to his head. "Here, let me fix that." You reached up and touched the back of his head gently.

"Thank you," He replied with a small smile.

"Let's start over," You grinned. "Hi, I'm Y/N. I guess I'm your new floormate." He grinned back, still surprised by your kindness.

"Yeah, I guess you are."

~ 6 Months Later ~

"C'mon, Y/N!" Loki yelled down the hallway. "The pairs' free dance is about to begin!" You ran out of the bathroom, socks sliding on the hardwoods.

"Woah!" You exclaimed, sliding, or rather bodyslamming, into him. He of course caught you easily, being used to this occurrence, and laughed. A few minutes later you were both sitting on the couch with a rather large bowl of popcorn between you. "Those twizzles were completely out of sync. That's going to ruin their score."

"Perhaps," he commented, tossing another buttery snack in his mouth. "But their lifts have been perfect unlike the other couples." You shrugged and continued watching. You found yourself shivering, however, as you continued watching the programs.

"Has the thermostat gone down?" You asked. Loki got up and checked.

"No, are you cold?" He, of course, didn't notice any difference since he was, not only a Frost Giant, but also wearing a lovely sweater, you thought.

"Yeah, must be the ice," You joked, nodding at the television. You eyed his soft, grey sweater once again and decided that, even though it looked absolutely stunning on him, you needed it more.

"Um, would it be alright if I borrowed your sweater?" You asked nervously. He looked mildly surprised but quickly pulled it off and handed it to you. "Thanks," You said quietly. The past couple weeks you'd realized you had developed a minor crush on your new best friend. You didn't say anything, however, for fear of ruining said friendship. "It smells like you," You chuckled, pulling the jumper close around you. Loki blushed brightly and apologized.

"Sorry, so sorry. I can-I can get a new one from the wash." He went to get up, face still flushed in embarrassment.

"Loki, it's fine," You replied, stopping him. "I don't mind. Thank you for lending it to me." He smiled sweetly at you in reply.

"You're welcome. After all, what are friends for?"

~ 1 Year Later ~

"He's too pretty for his own good, Nat!" you complained, throwing quick punches at your sparring partner.

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"It means if he knew what's good for him, he would be so perfect all the time!" You blocked three punches and landed one of your own. "If he doesn't I might have to take matters into my own hands."

"Meaning you'll finally ask him out instead of driving us all crazy pining over him like you have been for the past year and a half or so?" She retorted with a smirk, flipping you to the ground and pinning your arms behind you. You groaned and rolled out from under her, standing and holding your hands up in defeat.

"No! Of course not! It means I'd have to ugly him up a little." Natasha rolled her eyes and laughed.

"Like you'd ever have the guts! C'mon! Be honest with yourself! You liked him since New York. Just put on your big-girl pants and tell him! And if you can't find yours, I can lend you mine," She teased, playfully slapping your butt.

"Watch it, Widow!" you snapped. "I'm going to the conference room if it's not in use. I don't want to be disturbed, ok?"

"Fine, just let me know all the juicy details when you finally have the guts to go back to your floor, ok?" You rolled your eyes and walked out.

"Finally alone," you sighed, tossing your gym bag in a chair and slumping down in another. "FRIDAY?”

"Yes, Miss Y/N?" The AI replied.

"Please shut the blinds and lock the door. Emergency override only."

"Yes, Miss." You closed your eyes, tears threatening to slip through.

"FRIDAY, shuffle Linda Eder from my library."

"Of course," The AI replied. When I Look In Your Eyes started playing and you leaned back in the chair, closing your eyes and tuning out the rest of the world. You were so focused on your music and trying to figure out your own feelings that you didn't hear the door open. The next song started and you chuckled humorlessly.

"This one's for you," You said to yourself, thinking of your best friend. You sang along as Unusual Way played.

“In a very unusual way, one time I needed you

In a very unusual way, you were my friend

Maybe it lasted a day, maybe it lasted an hour

But somehow it will never end

In a very unusual way, I think I'm in love with you

In a very unusual way, I want to cry

Something inside me goes weak, something inside me surrenders

And you're the reason why, you're the reason why

You don't know what you do to me

Don't have a clue

You can't tell what it's like to be me

Looking at you

It scares me so that I can hardly speak...

In a very unusual way, I owe what I am to you

Though at times it appears I won't stay, I never go

Special to me in my life, since the first day that I met you

How could I ever forget you, once you had touched my soul

In a very unusual way...

You made me whole”

When you finished you thought you heard a noise behind you but when you turned around there was no one there. You shrugged it off as your own overactive imagination and got up, gathering your stuff. When you got back upstairs, you found Loki in the kitchen. "Thought you might like some lunch," He explained.

"Oh, thanks," You replied, sitting down and letting him serve you. After a few minutes of silent eating you decided you needed to say something. "Loki, I-"

"Y/N, I-" You both laughed, having spoken at the same time.

"You first," You both said. Laughing again, you shook your head and motioned for him to go on.

"Y/N, I must confess something. I-" He paused, taking a deep breath. "I wasn't going to say anything because I was afraid of how you'd respond but," He chuckled nervously. "I believe I've fallen in love."

"Oh!" You gasped. You set down your fork, losing your appetite quickly. "So who's the lucky lady? Do I know her?" You asked, taking a sip of water trying to look casual.

"Yes you do," He replied, smirking. "She's very beautiful and talented. She's kind and helpful to everyone. And most importantly she-"

BZZT BZZT

"Uh, sorry," you said, looking at your ringing phone. "I should take this. It's Steve." Loki looked upset but nodded. "Hello?"

"Y/N? We've got a problem. Is Loki with you?"

"Uh, yeah, he is. Cap, what's wrong?" Loki got up and moved closer to listen in on the conversation.

"We just got intel on a new Hydra base. This one's different though. They have too many defensive procedures in place for us to just attack. We need someone on the inside. That's where you and Loki come in."

"You're sending us to work undercover in a base?!" You screeched.

"Yes, pack a few things and be on the helicarrier in an hour. I'll finish briefing you then."

Working on the inside was, of course, much harder than you'd expected. Thankfully no one here knew you from your actual Hydra days so that made it easier. You just hadn't expected being separated from Loki for so long. Especially after your interrupted conversation, you wanted to talk to him again. Steve assured you, though, it would be a quick mission and you could get back to your normal life within a few weeks.

~ 6 Months Later ~

"You have exactly 2 minutes to get out before this whole place blows, you got that?" Cap yelled through your comms. The mission had gotten complicated and had extended to 6 Months for you both. But now you and Loki had apparently collected enough info for Cap and the others to finally come and blow it all open. Although, none of you had expected a literal explosion. You grabbed the last of the information you needed and booked it out of there. Once you made it into the clearing where the others had regrouped, you looked around frantically as Cap took a head count. "Loki's not out yet!"

"What!" You exclaimed. "There's only 30 seconds!" Suddenly your comms crackled to life.

"Found...girl…trapped," Loki said. The static made it impossible to understand the sentence fully but you understood what he meant.

"Loki! Get out!" Steve yelled.

"I'm going in," You said. Steve yelled to stop you but you were too quick. You teleported in and found the two, trying to shelter themselves in a corner. "Loki!"

"Y/N?" He exclaimed, turning to see you. "What are you doing here?"

"Trying to rescue you, you idiot! Now hold on." You reached out and grabbed Loki's and the girl's hands and teleported out just as the building exploded. Cap immediately went to help the girl, leading her back to the helicarrier.

"So," Loki said, looking at your hand still gripping his. You impulsively gave him a hug, the thought that you could have lost him starting to sink in. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," You replied, pulling away quickly. "I just-"

"Loki! Y/N! C'mon!" Cap called out. You were interrupted once more but ran to the helicarrier and rode back home in silence. When you landed back at the tower, you rushed to your bedroom and flung yourself on the bed face first.

"I need a life," You groaned. You heard Loki calling out for you so you rushed into the bathroom and quickly turned on the shower hoping that he would think you were in there and leave. Once you didn't hear him anymore you decided it actually was a good idea to take a shower so you adjusted the temperature and got in. A few minutes later you found yourself lost in the magical world of shower thoughts. Not wanting to get upset again, you decided on music. "FRIDAY, shuffle my library," You said.

"Right away," It replied. As you were dressing a few songs later, Unusual Way started playing and you thought back to the day you'd left for the mission. You sang along sadly, once again thinking of the man you loved who, apparently, loved someone else.

"You don't know what you do to me

Don't have a clue

You can't tell what it's like to be me

Looking at you"

You opened your door to go to the kitchen and Loki stumbled in. "Were you leaning on the door?"

"Maybe," He admitted, blushing. You stared at him, gesturing for him to explain. FRIDAY paused your music since you were talking and he glanced up at the ceiling. "I wanted to talk to you but I heard the shower start so I was going to leave but then I heard you singing and-"

"I don't like performing," You snapped, quite embarrassed that he'd heard you singing that song especially.

"But I want to hear you sing. Especially that song, you sing it so beautifully."

"How would you know? You heard me through a door," You scoffed. Pushing past him you walked out into the hallway, pulling your door shut behind you.

"Not six months ago I didn't." That stopped you in your tracks. Spinning around on your heel you marched back up to him.

"You heard me when?"

"In the conference room, the day we left for the mission. I'd gone to watch you practice and see if maybe you wanted to practice with me a little but Natasha said you'd left already. She told me where you were and that you didn't want to be disturbed but," He chuckled softly. "Has that ever stopped me?" You laughed and shook your head. "Well, I heard you singing and I decided to leave you be."

"Oh well, thanks I guess," You said, smiling softly, still embarrassed but not as mad anymore.

"May I ask, who were you singing to?"

"What do you mean?"

"When the song started you said 'this one's for you'. Who did you have in mind?"

"Oh," You said, surprised. You blushed brightly and shook your head. "Just someone I care for very much I suppose."

"You suppose?" He teased.

"Ok! I do care about him! Geez! You're as bad as Nat sometimes!" He laughed loudly and you could help but smile wider. You loved when he laughed like that, a real laugh that reached his eyes and filled the room. As you walked into the kitchen and sat down at the counter together, you quickly remembered your conversation at lunch that day though and frowned. "Unfortunately I don't think he quite thinks of me the same way."

"Why's that?" He asked, brows furrowing.

"I am quite sure he has his eyes on another girl."

"Is it the Captain?"

"Oh goodness no!" You immediately replied. "No, definitely not." His eyes suddenly lost their joy and he seemed almost scared to ask his next question. He got up and went to the window, putting quite a bit of space between you.

"Is it my brother?" He asked quietly.

"No! No no no! Never!" You exclaimed. You actually shuddered at the mental image. Realizing what needed to be done you teleported yourself in front of him with your back to the window. He startled and jumped back quickly. You smirked and stepped closer. "I don't know if you've noticed but I'm not a fan of blond's."

"Perhaps Banner then?" He stammered, trying to come up with an idea. You could not believe how clueless he could be.

"What? Ew! No!" You pretended to gag. "I like someone more fun, more mischievous," You grinned.

"Misch-oh," He breathed, finally figuring it out. You looked away, feeling embarrassment set in again. "Well, Y/N, I-"

"Look, I know you were trying to tell me before we left that you're in love and I couldn't be happier for you and I wish you all the best but I just needed you to know, ok?" You cried.

"But Y/N! You don't-"

"I'm sorry," You said, trying to run past him to lock yourself up in your room.

"Not so fast," He said, grabbing your arm.

"Wha-" You were cut off by a pair of lips meeting yours. He quickly pulled away, grinning like mad.

"You don't know what I've been trying and wanting to tell you! The girl I love is you, Y/N! I love you!"

"Me?" You squeaked, smiling giddily. He nodded and you laughed. "I cannot believe it. We've been idiots haven't we?"

"Most certainly," He agreed. He gave you another quick kiss and looked in your eyes. "I think I've loved you since we met but you know when I fell in love with you?"

"When?"

"When you borrowed that grey sweater and never gave it back." You gasped, eyes widening in surprise.

"I didn't realize I never returned it!"

"Oh sure! You wear it all the time!"

"I do no-oh," You paused, thinking about your closet. "Maybe I do," You chuckled. "Well, I actually liked you from the first time I saw you."

"When I scared you coming off the elevator?"

"No, 2012," You whispered. Loki stared at you, quite surprised. "I knew what you were doing was wrong but," You sat down on the couch, having wandered into the living area. "Somehow I understood you."

"Y/N, I don't know what to say. I, well, I was a very different man then and-"

"And you were pretty," You deadpanned.

"Ah, so my irresistible charms strike again." You both laughed and he sat beside you. "Y/N, I think we've been fooling ourselves for far too long. Now, you love me, right?"

"Yes!" You said emphatically.

"And I love you, right?"

"I sure hope so!" He grinned and you wondered where this was going. He stood up and took your hand in his.

"Well then, I should wish to officially court you if that should please you and have your approval," He said, bowing slightly.

"I accept," You replied immediately. You stood up and gave him a big hug. "Oh, Loki, thank you."

"You're welcome, my love. But I hope you know what this means."

"What?" You asked, pulling away just in time to see his smirk.

"It means you're no longer allowed to hog the popcorn bowl on skate night!"

"No," You retorted. "It means that as your girlfriend I can now officially tell you to get your own!" He gasped, playing offended.

"Why! I'm wounded!" He cried, holding his hand over his heart.

"Does this help?" You teased, placing your hand there instead.

"No," He smirked. "But this might," He said, pulling you in for another kiss. "I will never tire of that."

"Nor I," You sighed contentedly. "But we must stop for now."

"Why?"

"It's skate night and I need to get the popcorn ready!"

"Go sit down," He smiled. "I'll get it ready."

"Aw! How sweet!" You squealed. "Alrighty then." You walked back to the couch as settled in. "Loki, dear?" You called out towards the kitchen.

"Yes, darling?"

"Remember, 2 bowls!"

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[vivianweasley]

Pride and Prejudice (Chapter 4)

Summary: Your father is Lucius Malfoy’s cousin, and after the war, it was really difficult for you to find a job because of your last name. So your mother and Mrs. Weasley came up with a crazy idea. A fake marriage between you and Fred Weasley. 

In this chapter: Christmas at the burrow!

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Malfoy!Fem!Reader. slight mention of Ron X Hermione.

Warnings: mention of food, the reader’s shampoo smells apple (cuz i love the smell of apples and this will be useful in later chapters asfdjgk)

Word count: 1.6k

disclaimer: all pictures used in the header are from Pinterest. Credit goes to the original owners.

Please do NOT repost or translate my work on any platform! Reblogs and comments are always welcome:)

Pride and Prejudice Series Masterlist

You were sitting under the tree outside of the Burrow, making little flower rings and crowns. That was when you saw someone running towards you, and before you could recognize who it was, that shadow already climbed up the tree.

“Fred Weasley!! You say sorry to Ron right now!” Then you heard Mrs. Weasley’s voice shouting and coming your way. Beside her was a crying four-year-old boy, covered in paint. He was crying, but his state somehow made you chuckle. 

“Y/N, dear, did you see Fred?” Mrs. Weasley stopped when she saw you and tried her best to put on a smile when she asked.

Maybe it was because Ron was crying in such a hilarious way. Maybe it was because you were interested in meeting the person who did this, so you covered for Fred, “I didn’t, Mrs. Weasley.” 

Molly has always heard from your parents that you were a well-behaved kid, so she didn’t doubt a word you said and walked away. 

The little prankster finally climbed down the tree after Molly went back into the house. He held out his hand to you, “Thank you for helping me! I’m Fred! What’s your name?”

You shook his hand, “Y/N.”

“Brilliant! What’s the word again-Ah! Since you just covered for me, we’re officially partners in crime now!”

You chuckled at his silly wink. You didn’t have any siblings, and you weren’t very close with your cousins either. So you were happy that you were making friends. 

“What are you doing out here?”

“Making flower rings.” The flowers in your hand suddenly reminded you of something. You took a flower ring you just made and slipped it onto his left ring finger. He blinked and looked at you confused.

“I saw it somewhere that partners in crime wear matching rings. So here’s yours,” you explained and showed off the matching ring on your left hand, “and here’s mine.”

“Wicked!”

~

You were at the Burrow, nervously playing with the little silver flower on your wedding ring. This was actually the first time you were back at the Burrow even though you married Fred months ago. After all, it was a fake marriage, so you weren’t obligated to go to each other’s family gatherings. But it’s Christmas, and Molly insisted on having you at the Burrow, so your fake marriage would look more realistic.

So here you were, fidgeting at your husband’s childhood home. It wasn’t the first time you were at the Burrow, but for some reason, you were suddenly nervous that you won’t make a good impression. What if Molly spent time with you and realized this fake marriage was a mistake? What if the other Weasleys didn’t like you? What if-

“What are you thinking?” Fred’s voice startled you.

Of course, you weren’t going to tell him the truth, “Nothing.”

Fred raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t ask more questions. Instead, he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and started bringing you to the door, “Well then, let’s go!”

“To where?”

“Quidditch game! I need you to cheer for me and my team!”

“Okay, but I’m only cheering for the winning team!”

You and Hermione were sitting under the tree, watching their game. You had to admit that today’s game was indeed very intense. It was no less exciting than the school quidditch matches.

Hermione was watching carefully with her fists clenched. She would cheer when Ron successfully hit away the quaffle. And she would chuckle and whisper, “Idiot,” when Ron put on a silly face as he cheered.

You brought a book to the match, but your eyes were on Fred the entire time, following him wherever he goes. You noticed how his forearm muscle would tense up and how serious he looked when he’s focused. How come you never realized that your fake husband looked this good when he was playing quidditch. 

Before you even realized what you were doing, you started cheering silently when Fred hit the bludger and gasping when the bludger almost hit him. You turned to look at Hermione when she was cheering for Ron again, and you realized you were just doing the same thing. And at this moment, you felt like you were really Fred’s wife, instead of just playing the part.

The game came to an end with Ron’s team winning and Fred’s losing. Everyone was cheering for Ron, while Fred just sat next to you quietly, with defeat written all over his face.

“I think you were brilliant out there,” you commented.

“I thought you were reading a book.”

“I was watching the game, too,” you continued, “Ron was pretty good, but if you didn’t save him, that bludger could’ve broken his arm.”

Fred turned to look at you with his eyes widened, looking very surprised, and you continued, “And I saw you hitting the bludger away three times more than George did.”

“So you were paying attention to me?”

”Of course,” you rolled your eyes to cover for the fact that your cheeks were heating up, “I was paying attention to you because you are my only friend here. Plus, you are my husband. It would be a little embarrassing for me too if you weren’t doing good.” You blurted out all the excuses you could find and went back inside with the others.

But Fred found himself unable to move. Growing up with six other siblings, it seemed like no one ever paid attention to him and only him. Sometimes he felt like even his mother would just treat him and George as one inseparable group collectively. 

But now, you were only paying attention to him. And the way you said “my husband” worked like a spell that rendered him motionless. He was unable to do anything except for blushing and smiling like an idiot.

~

“Your mum’s cooking is so much better than yours,” you mumbled after you swallowed your food and took a sip of your drink.

“Yea, but my cooking is still better than yours,” Fred said as he dumped a spoonful of your favorite dish on your plate. 

Molly smiled with adoration when she saw you and Fred helping each other to your favorite dishes so naturally without saying a thing. The last time she saw you two sitting at the same table, you were still rolling eyes at each other.

You glared at Fred, trying to think of a smart comeback. But Ginny spoke first, “You know how to cook? How come you never cooked for us?”

Fred smiled at his sister, “Yea, that’s not happening.”

“I can cook for you! I’m better than him, anyway,” you offered as you glared at Fred one more time.

“Okay, I’ve only known Y/N for less than a day, but I already like my sister-in-law better than you.” 

“At least I won’t burn my toast twice in a morning.” 

“I was in a hurry!” you protested, “At least I didn’t almost burn the kitchen down with a roast chicken.”

Ginny laughed at how you two were bickering like an old married couple. She wasn’t exaggerating when she said she liked her new sister-in-law. She always thought you were pretty cool back in Hogwarts, especially after seeing you comforting and protecting a few younger students when the death eaters were controlling the school. “Y/N, where are you staying tonight? You can stay in my room if you want.” But she soon realized something, “Or are you staying in Fred’s room?”

You blushed at Ginny’s question and immediately looked away, trying to search for a good response. 

“Don’t worry about it, Ginny. They are pretty used to sharing a bed, right?” George raised his eyebrows as he teased.

“Oh shove off!” Fred glared at George, but you could feel your face heating up like an oven. Luckily, baby Victoire started crying, distracting everyone, and saving you from further questions.

~

After the dinner, Fred stayed downstairs to catch up with Bill, and you went upstairs on your own. The twins used to share the same bedroom, but George moved to Charlie's room since you were here for Christmas, leaving their childhood bedroom to you and Fred.

When Fred went upstairs, he saw you reading by the windowsill. It was strange having a girl here in his childhood bedroom. But watching you sitting there and reading so intently with your lower lip between your teeth, Fred felt like it made sense for you to be there. It felt natural, like you were the owner of this room. 

“What are you reading?” Fred asked as he approached you.

“Pride and Prejudice,” you replied without looking at him.

“Never heard of it. Who’s the author?”

“You say it like you’ve read many books,” you finally looked up to mock him, “The author is called Jane Austen. She’s a muggle writer.”

Fred was surprised, “You’re reading a muggle book?”

“Yea. As long as it’s a great book, muggle or wizard, I will read it. Unlike you, not reading anything at all.” you glared at him, for you knew he was assuming things about you again.

Fred wasn’t offended by your comment. Instead, he propped up his head with his hand and looked at you, “How about you read it to me, so I could say I read it too.”

You rolled your eyes but still picked up the book and started reading. Fred always loved your voice. Now listening to you reading a book to him, your voice felt like a soft lullaby, calming him down and soothing his soul.

Fred smiled and decided to rest his head on your lap. You rolled your eyes again but didn’t stop him. Your fingers soon started combing his hair absent-mindedly. Fred closed his eyes contently, taking in the smell of your apple shampoo. This night was just perfectly peaceful and tranquil.

“Y/N?”

“Mhm?”

“One year later, after we got a divorce, if you still want to come here during Christmas...I think my mum would be happy to have you.”

“That would be lovely,” you replied as a warm feeling spread through your body. You had a feeling that you understood what he was trying to say.

(to be continued.)

Chapter 5

~

series taglist: @ifilosemyselfagain @theweasleytwinsgirl @bookworm06 @unabashedbookscollector @txtdreamss @sagittarius-flowerchild  @rsheridan @ovrwd @anywherebuthere @allaroundaddict @jeminila @secretsofageek @magical-spit @freddieweasleyswife @lilypad-55449 @hufflepuffzutara @honey-honey-5644 @kyloren-peterparker @treblebeth @kyloren-peterparker​ @fred-sux​ @rodrickmalfoy​ @liliputbahn​  (message me if you want to be added or removed!)

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[readiajin]

To Love Herself - Chapter 2: Wherever

Synopsis: Following ACOSF until Nesta’s confrontation with Amren. Rather than going to hike and soul search with Cassian in the wild, Nesta uses her powers to disappear.

In celebration of being done with my finals I finally finished chapter 2! I found writing the inner circle hard because I wanted to be consistent with the books but also got frustrated at them... Enjoy!

Prologue: Disappear

Chapter 1: Appear

Chapter 2: Wherever

Cassian - After Appear

“Don’t finish all the wine before Feyre gets here.” Cassian met Mor’s gaze over the top of his wineglass, her own hovering just about her lips, curved in a teasing smile.

“You’re one to talk,” he shot back.

“It’s not my fault Feyre’s late.”

“You both have a problem.” Cassian looked at Amren, who was practically in Varian’s lap next to Mor on the couch. 

“Where is Feyre anyways?” Elain asked from her seat next to Cassian. That was addressed to Rhys, who was walking into the sitting room from checking on Nyx. 

Rhys took a seat in one of the two open arm chairs in front of the fire. “She said she lost track of time in the studio. Is on her way back now.” 

“What is she doing? Walking?” Mor asked. 

“Yes, said she wanted to enjoy the night.” Rhys said this casually, but Cassian knew his brother well. He could tell Rhys was bothered by Feyre’s absence. They hadn’t had a planned dinner tonight, their family convening spontaneously as Cassian and Mor reported in on court business to Rhys and Amren. Azriel had been here after training Nyx earlier. Varian was the only one besides Feyre told to come over. 

Dinner had been casual and quick as Nyx had been full of energy before Rhys got him down. Nyx had asked for his mother, and Cassian didn’t think she had ever unexpectedly missed his bedtime, especially just to paint. Rhys seemed to be thinking the same thing. Cassian knew his brother probably wanted to go get Feyre himself, but she had most likely told him no. Rhys understood how important it was to respect Feyre’s independence.

Still, Rhys accepted the glass of whiskey Azriel placed in his hand before returning to his chosen spot leaning against the sideboard. 

Rhys was about to take a sip when his head snapped to the doorway. 

Feyre stood there. 

Cassian could immediately tell something was wrong. She didn’t say anything, barely glanced at any of them as she made her way to take the last open seat in front of the fire. Rhys stood, but Feyre only reached out to take his glass of whiskey before sitting, and downing the glass. 

“Feyre, what’s wrong?” Rhys asked this with a deadly calm Cassian knew was to cover his panic and rage at whatever had happened. The fact that he asked it out loud meant she must not be responding through their bound, something not lost on anyone else in the room. 

Feyre finished the glass and closed her eyes, letting out a sign.

“What happened girl?” Amren asked somewhat tentatively. Tentatively for Amren, which was even more alarming. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” It was true, Feyre was deathly pale and her hands shook slightly. 

Feyre let out a shaky laugh. “I have.” 

No one spoke, the crackling fire the only sound. 

Feyre’s eyes fluttered open, going straight to Cassian. In that split second before she spoke, Cassian already knew what she was going to say. 

“I saw Nesta.” 

Time stood still as a million different things flashed through Cassian’s mind. He saw her, Neata, the last day he had seen her eight years ago. Her face flushed with anger, then frozen, her eyes empty. He saw her burn herself up in silver flames, then gone. 

He also saw the memories of her he clung too. Training with that determined look in her eyes. The I will slay my enemies look. A ghost of a smile on her lips as she talked with Emerie and Gwyn, or even with him, even when she fought it. He saw her naked, breathing heavily beneath him while looking at him with a feeling in her eyes he had thought he knew but was too scared to voice. A feeling he now understood had just been wishful thinking on his part. 

“What do you mean you saw Nesta?” Rhys’ deadly voice brought Cassian back, his eyes still locked with Feyre’s. At the threat of violence in Rhys’ tone however, Cassian found his gaze drifting to Rhys, who still stood next to Feyre, and a rising tide of his own anger with it. 

“She showed up at my studio as I was leaving.”

Cassian found his voice to ask, “And where is she now?” Save for Rhys, who was focused on Feyre, Cassian sensed everyone else watching him. 

“She left again. She was only there for a few minutes.” 

“What did she say?” asked Amren

“She said…” Fryre stumbled over her words as she stared towards the back of the room, as if she could see Nesta standing there now. “She looked great.”

Cassian frowned. He had pictured Nesta as she had been at her lowest. In the old apartment, drunk, and reeking of sex. These past eight years had also been ample time for him to imagine her lost, starving, bleeding out. He had pictured her in the same pain he had been since she had left. He didn’t understand what Feyre meant by ‘great’. “What do you mean?” 

“She looked healthy. She had the Great Sword with her.” 

“Of course she did,” Mor scoffed. “Did she have the other weapons with her? Did you ask?”

“No, but she told me… some things.” 

“What things?” Amren demanded. 

“She said we needed to look for dissent among the Illyarians, that some were conspiring with… someone on the continent.” 

Cassian exchanged a glance with Azriel. “Feyre, can you start at the beginning, what happened.” Az said this as he switched Feyre’s empty glass for one with wine.

They waited as she took a sip before explaining how Nesta had appeared behind her, and what she had told Feyre about a group on the continent looking for Prynthia’s power. 

It was Mor who broke the silence that followed. “Well that sounds like a load of shit if I have ever heard it. Seriously, she expects us to believe that? If there is a threat to Prynthia, it’s her. Did you ask her about the kidnapped priestesses?”

“No, I didn’t think of it. But she wants to meet in two days.”

“Absolutely not,” Rhys finally cut in. “I’m not having my mate go anywhere near her.” 

Feyre set down her wine glass to glare at her mate. “She’s my sister, of course I’m going.”

“A sister who lied, left, and stole from you,” Amren scoffed. “Nesta didn’t deserve you before, girl, nor does she now.” 

Cassian’s head and heart were pounding. Part of him wanted to rip into Rhys, Amren, and Mor for what they said, but he was feeling too much. He should say something, but they all knew how he felt already anyways. They had seen him in the weeks and months after she disappeared after all. 

Azriel, thankfully, spoke up. “We should meet her. If not to hear what she has to say but then at least to check out her magic. My shadows have never been able to track her. She seems to have mastered her powers if she was able to get into the city and sneak up on Feyre.” 

 “She also could have help,” Varian added. “Getting into the city itself is a feat, but she was able to get those weapons and priestesses out seven years ago, right?” 

“I agree Nesta is a problem to be dealt with, but that should be done without meeting in a situation she controls.” Rhys said. 

“What do you mean ‘dealt with’?” Cassian asked with a deadly calm.

Rhys turned to Cassian, his face cold. 

“I told you before her power is death. I will not tolerate any threat to the Night Court.”

“Nesta’s a threat to the Night Court? Or do you just think she is a threat to you?” Cassian growled. Cassian would never forget Rhy’s threat to kill Nesta after she had told Feyre about the risk of the baby. Despite his later apology, Cassian knew Rhys had meant it at the time. 

Rhys’ violet eyes flared and the air became charged with his powers. Cassian’s siphons flared in response. 

“Enough!” Feyre jumped up and stepped in between them before they both did something they would regret. In over the 500 years Cassian had known Rhys, the only things that had ever caused them to threaten real violence towards each other were Feyre and Nesta. 

Feyre whirled on Rhys. “I am in no mood for your overprotective male bullshit. Nesta is my sister and I am High Lady. I will meet her if I wish.”

Rhys settled back a bit, but his voice was still hard as he replied to his mate, “You are also a mother. What about Nyx.”

“Don’t use our son as a reason I can’t do something. Besides, Nesta is not a threat.”

Once again, a tense silence filled the room. Cassian couldn’t remember the last time he had seen Rhys and Feyre fight like this, if ever. Usually they kept their disagreements silent and between them. 

“What do you think Elain?” Azriel asked, breaking the tension even if it required him addressing Elain. They had enough tension between them without getting involved in other’s. Still, Rhys and Feyre both took a step back from each other and turned their attention to Elain next to Cassian. 

Elain, who had been sitting so silent throughout the debate that Cassian had forgotten she was there, stood. “I think Nesta has always made the wrong choices. But she wouldn’t have come back or asked to meet without a reason. You should at least go meet her.” 

“You?” Feyre asked, frowning. “You don’t want to see her?”

“No, I don’t.” Elain said this with a confidence Cassian rarely heard from her. “Hear her out, but I agree with Mor. She can’t be trusted. I’m going to bed, let me know what you decide in the morning.” With that, Elain left the room. 

Cassian attempted to keep his voice neutral as he said, “So we will meet her in two days where she said.”

“It seems so.” was all Rhys said.

Cassian knew he wouldn’t be able to keep it together for much longer so he downed the last of his wine and walked to the doors leading outside. No one tried to stop him. 

Out on the patio he breathed in the cool air in an attempt to calm his pounding blood. He flared his wings with the intention of flying to cliffs on the coast to scream out everything he was feeling, when the door opened behind him. 

Feyre stood there, her eyes, Nesta’s eyes, sad.

“I’m sorry Cassian.”

“What do you have to be sorry for?”

“I’m sorry for everything,” Feyre ran a hand over her face. “I’m sorry for her leaving, I’m sorry for how she behaved before that, and for how I behaved towards her. I’m sorry she came to me and not you.”

Cassian’s chest tightened. He didn’t want to feel this way, but envy wasn’t rational, and he couldn’t stop the pain at the thought that Nesta went to Feyre but not him.

“She’s your sister, of course she went to you.”

Feyre gave him a sad smile and leaned against the railing, looking up at the stars. “She did ask about you.”

Cassian’s voice was breathy as he said, “Really?”

“Yes.”

They both continued to examine the stars before Cassian asked what had been nagging him the most. “What did you mean by she looked great and healthy?”

“She was tanned and looked to have a good amount of weight from what I could see. I think she was in fighting leather’s, but not Illyarian ones.”

“But she didn’t give any clue as to where she has been the past eight years?”

Feyre shook her head. “Said it was a long story.”

“I’m sure,” Cassian scoffed, the back of his mouth bitter.

“We will find out in two days.”

Cassian nodded, but didn’t say anything more as he spread his wings and launched into the night. 

•••••

Nesta - After Disappear 

The first thing Nesta became aware of was the sound of wind rustling thousands of tree needles somewhere above her. 

Nesta took a deep breath of the earthy, spiced tinged air as her eyes fluttered open. The world was a mix of red and green, but far above where she lay, Nesta could make out bits of blue sky and white clouds through the forest canopy. 

Gods, her head pounded. But not like it did after she drank. No, the last time Nesta had felt like this was after the battle with Hyburn. Memories flashed in Nesta’s mind as she recalled what happened. Cassian asking her for sword names, to the rage she had felt at them all, herself, and then the tears she caused Feyre to spill.

And the magic. Nesta had not just let her powers slip, she had used them, allowed them to take her. To here. Wherever this was. 

Nesta’s fists closed around handfuls of soft wood and dirt. Slowly, she pushed herself up to take in her surroundings, and her breath caught. She was surrounded by the most enormous trees she had ever seen. Their orange-red trunks were thicker than her family’s old cottage, with the lowest branches several stories above her head. 

Nesta had never felt so small. So insignificant. 

She had done it. She had left Velaris and her sisters. And Cassian. She had left Gwyn and Emerie with no explanation. Guilt settled in her as Nesta remembered their concern after she had argued with Cassian earlier that day. Oh gods, what day was it?

Nesta pushed to her feet only to almost collapse immediately, her head spinning. She had no way of knowing how long it had been since she had left. Her mouth felt like sandpaper and her stomach ached painfully.

The forest around her was unsettlingly peaceful. Wind high about shifted the needles and branches, but the world at the ground where Nesta stood almost seemed frozen in time. By the sun’s soft light, she figured it was mid morning. She saw no animals, or much vegetation besides small bushes and ferns scattered about the bases of the trees. 

It would be a fine place to lay down and die. Of all the places Nesta had ever been, this forest was one the nicer places. Better than her run down apartment, or Feyre’s ornate palace on the river. Definitely better than the townhouse and it’s claustrophobic walls.

Nesta felt a pang in her chest as she thought of the House. It may be ridiculous but the House was her friend, and the first home she had felt comfortable in. Even if it hadn’t been her choice. 

Now it was all gone. Everything she knew was gone. He was- no. This had been her choice. 

The thought spurred Nesta to move. She picked a random direction and started walking. She needed water. And food. And shelter.  

Despite everything her family had been through, Nesta realized, she had never truly been without. Even in the grips of poverty they had a house, no matter how small and rundown. And Feyre had always been responsible for food. A familiar heavy wave came over Nesta. None of that mattered anymore. She wouldn’t be a problem for them anymore. 

There was too much to take in as Nesta made her way through the huge forest. She felt like an ant crawling on twigs as she made her way around and over fallen branches. The red trees were soft, with many branches and old trunks shattered across the ground. 

It was hard navigating, as the trees made it hard to see more than a few meters. 

A small stream came into sight and Nesta had to restrain herself from jumping into it. Swallowing her dry mouth took a lot of effort now. Walking to a mini waterfall where the water ran clear, Nesta collapsed to her knees beside it. She cupped her hands and drank, not caring about the water she dribbled down the front of her training leathers. 

The water was rejuvenating. After thoroughly quenching her thirst, Nesta splashed water on her face.

Refreshed, Nesta sat back and closed her eyes, taking a breath. The water helped, but Nesta knew she needed food. And shelter, and a plan. Because she had no idea what she was doing. 

Nesta tried to clamp down on her rising panic. She would get her wish and she would die here in this strange forest because she was so unskilled she lacked the basic abilities required to survive and feed herself. For all her training with Cassian, he had never taught her to be self reliant. She hadn’t even trained with a real sword.

Nesta felt a sob build in her throat and tears threaten to spill despite holding her eyes shut. It was only shock that stopped Nesta’s breakdown. Shock when a voice said from behind her:

“Who the hell are you?” 

•••••

Thanks for being here :)

Tags:

@bluassassin @my-fan-side @nehemikkele @vidalinav​ @dread3r @vasudharaghavan @laylaameer01​ @little-shipper55 @aelinchocolatelover @mis-lil-red @missing-merlin @frosted-crackers​

[liquid-luck-00]

Queen Marinette

Queen Marinette

Here is a ~2000 word song fic that I wrote in place of working on my ongoing fics hope you guys like it.

I saw a post a while ago where Damian would call Mari Queen/Your Majesty as she was a princess, but i cant find the post anymore but the idea stuck so here we are.

~~~~~~~~~~

The League of Assassins also known as the League of Shadows is one of the Earth's best kept secret society second to Themiscyra home of the Amazons and Atlantis of the Atlantans. However there is one that only a handful know and whispers of their existence are mythical in the cosmos. Only known to the head families, or rulers, of Themiscyra, Atlantis, and the League of Assassins.

That would be the Kingdom at Miraculi.

Marinette is anything but a normal girl. She is the crowned princess of Miraculi as well as being the reincarnation of the goddess Tikki. She is creation herself, but on top of that she was blessed by the other gods as well, meaning she is able to wield their gifts as well. She is Princess Marinette Dawntreader of Miraculi.

But right now she wants to be anywhere but the palace. At the age of eight she just met her betrothed and let's just say he did not make a good first impression.

In front of her stood Damian Al Ghul the heir of Demons and next head of the league of shadows. The league is the guard of Miraculi, ensuring that the existence of the Kingdom remains peaceful and in turn the Kingdom of Miraculi supplies the magic of the Lazarus Pit. The concealment of Themiscyra and Atlantans able to survive under water are other blessings provided by Miraculi. But back to the pain on hand, Damian Al Ghul.

"Tt. you really do look the part of a princess" she was in a long flowing dress with long sleeves as she had finished her classes for the day. "Fragile and helpless."

"Yes and you appear as a demon" she shot back. "self-absorbed and arrogant" she turned on her heel "keep up little Prince" she called over her shoulder.

They got to know each other better but he was always so cold and distant. But they grew to love each other. Damian left to be with his father when they were 10, but they still stayed in contact. Then when they were 13 she got news that broke her heart, Damian was dead.

She couldn't stay in the Kingdom without remembering him. She needed distance and new scenery wouldn’t hurt. So she brought it up to her parents, and they were reluctant, but Diana Princess of Themiscyra brought up the solution Marinette would be staying with Sabine Cheng, an Amazon who was granted leave of Themiscyra , and her husband Tom Dupain.

That was how she found herself in Paris as an 8th year introducing herself as Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

That was how she also met Adrien Agreste. He was kind and sweet. He was new to school life just as she was new to life outside of Miraculi.

But not long afterwards did Lila Rossi enroll at Du Ponte.

With a quick search on google revealed most of her tales to be just that, fiction.

Adrien and Mari dated for two years before he ended the relationship. It was because she

wouldn't stop trying to reveal Lila's lies. That it was hurting his image that he was seen with her. That if only they knew the truth it would be enough. Well, fine, goodbye Adrien was her only thought. Her head held high.

Cross my heart and hope to die

I don't need another guy

To fight my battles, to overshadow me

Don't ya know I'm dangerous?

Fire burnin' in my blood

I got this handled, I don't need rescuin'

Unfortunately for him she didn't stop trying to get her class to see the truth.

A side effect of the liar's influence was that she was ostracized from the rest of the class.

But that wasn't a priority. Miraculi was going to become public. So she had a revealing ceremony to prepare for.

But before that she was asked to join as a joint member of the Teen Titians and Young Justice.

She was to meet with the two teams at Mt. Justice so she was looking for Kaldur, Aqualad, as she exited the building.

She was making her way towards him when she heard it.

"Princess" Adrien called and pulled her to look at him.

You can call me a princess all you like

'Cause you love to keep me helpless by your side

But that ain't what I want, I'ma show you

"Can I do something for you Agreste?" she asked as calmly as she could. "Because if not I am meeting a friend I haven't seen in ages."

"Just make up with Lila" he started "she isn't hurting anyone. And when you do everyone will be your friend again."

She smiled and noticed Kaldur closer than before. "Kaldur good to see you again how was your flight?" Adrien turned to see who she was talking to, and Kaldur after a second of shock responded.

"Uneventful, is everything set?" he asked giving her a way out.

"Yes" Mari answered "Sorry Adrien, another time"

"B- 02 Aqualad, B- 34 Omni"

She was in a black formfitting sleeveless top that rose to form a mask covering her face to her nose. Dark red combat boots that were tucked into black motorbike pants. A red belt with a forest green sash that faintly resembled a skirt just under it. Her gloves and arm guards were black and grey, and all over were golden accents. Her hair was cut short and was pitch black and her eyes were a golden color with flecks of green. (Outfit)

After quick introductions she noticed him, Robin of the Teen Titians, was standoffish but was familiar oh so familiar. Then she saw his hand twitch towards his sword and tapped the butt of the hilt twice before dropping his hand.

That was all the confirmation she needed. As everything fell into place.

That little jerk.

Batman asked for her to spar, to assess her combat skills. As she predicted Robin stepped in to be her partner.

She pulled two red batons from the small of her back and they began. Yes they were evenly matched but then she decided to mess with him. She turned back time to feign a right but ducked and swept his legs from under him. With him distracted she created a Mirage of herself and another to make herself invisible. She snuck up behind him used venom to freeze him and flip his cape over his head while her Mirage took his sword.

"Tt. unfreeze me" he practically growled she noticed almost everyone flinch and took a step back.

"You sure that's what you want, while I have your sword?" she taunted. She noticed a few shot her looks of sympathy. Odd. As Robin stayed quiet. "Fine" she dropped venom and he charged "Have it your way little Prince."

She jumped and he seemed to freeze mid charge but she didn't. She created a shell-ter around him.

Which he crashed into. He stood up and was gaping at her.

She dropped shell-ter and was making a few final decisions with Batman, while Robin still hadn't moved 30 minutes later and his mouth still agape. By this time Nightwing had come over.

"I think you broke little wing" he chuckled.

"You think so." she responded with a slight question. "Close your mouth your going to catch flies Al Ghul."

"Yes, Your Majesty" he finally snapped out of his stupor.

She saw Nightwing and Batman share a look and then look between the two of them.

I'ma show you

How to treat me like a queen (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

Boy, you better bow down on your knees

Can I get a "Yes, your majesty?"

So treat me like a queen (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

Boy, you better bow down on your knees

Can I get a "Yes, your majesty?"

They explained the role of Miraculi in the world. How they had met and knew one another. Their engagement and finally the reopening of the Kingdom to the world. By now she dropped her transformation, meaning her eyes were back to bluebell and her hair was a midnight blue, and the bats had taken off their masks.

Then an idea hit.

"Your plotting something" Damian snapped her out of her planning.

"Plotting makes it seem malicious" she paused "I'm planning."

"I'll bite, what are you planning?" Nightwing, Dick as he introduced, asked.

"How would you like to come to my coronation and be some of the first outsiders in Miraculi?" she responded.

Eyes on me like I'm a prize

But you better recognize

I'm not your angel 'cause I belong to me

You can call me a princess all you like

'Cause you love to keep me helpless by your side

But that ain't what I want, I'ma show you

As she guessed the news of Miraculi opening up was all the news was covering. The hidden Kingdom known only by the Amazons and Atlantans, officially, was all everyone was talking about.

The fact that the opening was set for the coronation of the princess added to the suspense.

About a month before our teacher had news. "Due to a special invitation our class has been invited to attend the Princess’ coronation in Miraculi" that was when the class erupted.

In a week Lila convinced everyone she personally asked the Princess to invite the class as a favor to her. That she grew up in the castle with her and was made a lady in waiting. Two weeks until the coronation, she asked Damian to tweet that 'he can't wait to see his best friend again in Miraculi.’ Which caused a small discourse with a boy called Jon Kent of how he was Damian's best friend. Where he answered with 'female best friend. Better Kent' That Lila used to say it was her, and that he only used best friend instead of girlfriend.

I'ma show you

How to treat me like a queen (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

Boy, you better bow down on your knees

Can I get a "Yes, your majesty?"

So treat me like a queen (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

Boy, you better bow down on your knees

Can I get a "Yes, your majesty?"

The week before they left to Miraculi, in order to show them around. Before landing Mari changed into an emerald green dress with a mandarin collar. A jacket and belt with a duster in a dark silver trimmed with gold and matching gloves. Her hair was in a side braid and a thin golden circlet on her brow. A few of her classmates glared at her but she didn't pay them any attention. (Outfit)

She was the last out of the airport and you could feel the tension in the air. Lila was spouting some nonsense to the guards that were sent to retrieve them. Then they noticed her, every guard formed a straight line to the captain as they dropped onto one knee and bowed their heads. As she passed them they stood up.

"Captain Chase it is good to see you again” she smiled as he also rose.

"The honor is mine Princess" he bowed again.

You can call me a princess all you like

'Cause you love to keep me helpless by your side

But that ain't what I want,

She turned back to face the class. "Welcome to Miraculi, I am Princess Marinette Dawntreader. I hope you enjoy your stay. The guards will escort you in these carriages to the castle for your stay." she mounted Yin (Silver), who Captain Chase brought for her. "I will ride ahead, as they are in capable hands." She smiled and rode off towards home.

The next week was amazing. Between tours of the Kingdom her classmates were part of an honorary court, to glimpse into the Royal life.

Damian almost cut off Lila's head the first time they met. Most of the class realized that if Lila lied about knowing Marinette, well the Princess but Lila hated Mari, and dating Damian, what else had she lied about. Turns out they can use google and Mari received several apologies and offers to be friends. She accepted the apologies but not their offers.

"Why?" was a consensus of the group.

"You realize that you were deceived, but that does not excuse your actions. As I am also assuming you wish to be friends because of my status." That seemed to force them to think, thank Kwami.

I'ma show you

How to treat me like a queen (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

Boy, you better bow down on your knees

Can I get a "Yes, your majesty?"

So treat me like a queen (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

Boy, you better bow down on your knees

Can I get a "Yes, your majesty?"

But the best part of this week was after the apologies was hearing them all, Lila included, only address her with 'Your Majesty’.

[wafflesandkruge]

have your way with me until you go (zoyalai)

Nikolai and Zoya's morning routines are like clockwork. She wakes him with a drop of stimulant. He makes a witty quip. Neither of them acknowledge what's between them.

So when Zoya shows up late, it's reasonable to assume that nothing else will go as planned.

@grishaverseonline mission 06: free for all

a/n: it’s literally just 2k of pining, pls take it, it’s all i have to offer. meant to be a parallel to the carriage scene at the beginning of kos but it got a bit out of hand 😔 big thanks to @storm-dog-pirate and @mareshes for helping me beta!

ao3

---

When Nikolai woke, it was less surfacing gently from the sea of sleep than being abruptly spat out onto dry land by a monster. He inhaled sharply, his mind instantly assaulted with his surroundings. He was on his bed at the Grand Palace. Chains were once again fastened around his wrists. And an unfairly lovely face was hovering above his, her dark curls brushing his bare chest.

“Zoya,” he greeted with a groan, “how kind of you to grace me with your delightful presence this fine morning. I feel healthier already.”

She barely spared him a glance as she leaned over him to unlock the shackle on his right wrist. He caught a whiff of her hair, the same strangely familiar wildflower scent as always.

“Getting a head start on the flattery, are we?” Her voice was rough, strained. He could see a near imperceptible tremor in her hands as she fitted her key into the lock. It took her multiple tries to get the stubborn thing to turn. Odd, when she’d practically perfected the technique of unchaining a king from his bed months ago. 

He shifted to get a closer look at her. Dark shadows bloomed under her eyes, her brows furrowed as she attempted to unlock the last shackle. Her hair was in sore need of brushing. Saints, had she really emerged from her rooms looking like that? Perhaps she was human like the rest of them after all.

“Late night?” he attempted. “Fun night?”

“Only you would think of fun while facing war on six fronts, my king.” She moved away as soon as the shackle sprang open as if she didn’t want to be near him for any longer than necessary.

He sat up and watched her retreat into the sitting room, rubbing at his sore wrists. Had he done something to offend her recently? Besides daring to breathe the same air as her, naturally. He pondered the question as he washed and dressed mechanically.

When he emerged from his room, he found Zoya hovering in front of a gilded mirror with a ribbon in her hands. As he watched, she attempted to pull her hair into something more manageable than its current frazzled state, but each time she’d miss a strand or the knot would become undone as soon as she dropped her hands. His eyes met hers in the mirror. The dark smudges under her eyes only seemed to make them bluer than ever. An untold secret seemed to lurk behind their depths, but she’d probably sooner jump out the window than confide in him.

“You’re a mess, Zoya.”

“Says the man who was just chained to his bed.” There wasn’t nearly enough venom in her voice to reassure him of his general’s wellbeing. He crossed the room and plucked the ribbon from her hands. She made no move to stop him.

“You know, I once had a promising future as a hairdresser,” he remarked idly as he took a strand of her hair in his hands after a moment’s hesitation. It was impossibly silky, and if he’d been wearing his gloves, he was sure it would have slipped right out of his hands. The dark scars on his fingers were hidden among the loose curls, and for just a moment, he could pretend he was just another man. But Zoya would never be just another woman to him, would she? He used his fingers to carefully comb out the worst of the tangles. 

“Is that so?” The words were a challenge, or perhaps an invitation. He could never quite tell with her.

“Girls would line up at the door when they heard I was in town just to get the newest styles done by me,” he boasted. It was true, to an extent. By “girls,” he’d meant Dominik’s two little sisters, Faina and Polina who had adored their brother’s mysterious friend. They’d forced him to arrange their hair just like the ladies at court, and because he never did anything only halfway, he’d bribed one of his mother’s servants to teach him just so he’d have something to delight them with. For a moment, he could hear Dominik’s warm laughter as his sisters eagerly showed off their pretty braids. 

Some prince you are, he’d said with a grin as the two of them tore into his mother’s sweet pastries. All you’re good for is making the ladies happy.

Not just the ladies, Nikolai had wanted to say, but Dominik had already turned to yell at his sisters for playing too close to the river.

But now Dominik was gone, and all he had left was the broken country that had failed him. And Zoya, always Zoya. 

His fingers skimmed the warm skin at her neck as he pulled back another strand of hair. Zoya was barely moving, only letting out the occasional hiss when he accidentally pulled too hard. As he plaited her hair, his eyes wandered down to the collar of her kefta. It was slung unusually low this morning, and from his vantage point, he could see the tip of one of her scars, the paler strip of skin just visible beneath the fur collar. He couldn’t help thinking about how easy it’d be to lean forward and press a kiss to the back of her neck. Would she pull away? He swallowed and averted his eyes. Saints, this had to be some game of hers, didn’t it? Sometimes he wondered if the little things she did- sending looks his way that from anyone else, would have been a reason for scandal, or letting her fingers linger on his as she handed him something- were on purpose. But he'd heard the stories of the people she’d toyed with when she was younger and crueler. She played for the sake of the game, not the prize, and if the stories were true, she had yet to lose. He was never quite sure if she was playing the same game with him, but if she was, her winning streak wasn't going to be broken. He blinked and focused on Zoya’s reflection again.

“Zoya.”

“What?”

“What’s wrong?”

As expected, she crossed her arms and scowled into the mirror. “Nothing. Hurry up so we can be on our way, or people will talk.”

“People already talk. Why do you look like you stayed out drinking with Genya and didn’t get a wink of sleep?” He pressed the issue, not sure if she would tell him anything at all. Even after three years of rebuilding a country together, there were still some lines Zoya refused to cross. 

“Maybe I did go out drinking with Genya.” Her voice was curt, clipped. He didn’t believe her for an instant.

“Without inviting me? How treasonous.” 

“You were unwanted.” 

At least her poisonous tongue was back. He supposed it was better than nothing. His braid finished, he tied it off with a neat bow. “There,” he said softly, admiring his handiwork. He let his hands linger in her hair for a moment longer before pulling them back. “Now you look a fraction more presentable.”

In the mirror, Zoya’s lips quirked upwards. “What an excellent valet you make.”

He was instantly reminded of that night in the carriage, Zoya snug in his arms as they played the role of sated lovers. She’d seen him at his worst, and yet she was still here every morning to wake him and face the country together. He supposed he ought to have returned the favor somehow, but what did he have left to give? Somehow, Zoya didn’t seem like someone who’d have use for his eternal gratitude or respect. 

“Your buttons are done wrong,” he muttered as he caught sight of her kefta in the mirror. Either she’d had a very good night, or a very bad night, but he couldn’t decide which was worse. He spun her by the shoulders and hesitated for a moment before kneeling. Vasily’s voice echoed in his head as he refastened the first of the pearl buttons. A king never kneels, brother. But his brother had never met Zoya Nazyalensky.

He glanced up at her, but her gaze was faraway, her arms crossed over her chest as she worried at her bottom lip. 

“A king’s kneeling in front of you, shouldn’t you be a bit more excited?” he quipped, somewhat desperate to get a normal reaction from her. 

She raised a brow. “I’ve had plenty of men kneel before me in the past. Why would a king be any different unless he offers me a country as well?”

He moved on to the buttons over her stomach. “If I recall correctly, I already did. You weren’t thrilled.”

She stiffened. He rose to his feet again as he finished the buttons over her chest. The pearls gleamed in a neat line down the front of her kefta, nestled in the whorls of silver embroidery. He could spend hours tracing the patterns with his eyes, and he often did during particularly trying Triumvirate meetings. He resisted the urge to trace one of the spirals with a finger. Finally, he got to the buttons at her neck.

"Do take care next time to not look like..." His voice trailed off as his eyes left the saints forsaken buttons for a moment to find Zoya's exquisite face entirely too close to his. Even exhausted, her features still spoke of regality and poise, her blue eyes bright and defiant as they stared right back at him. Nikolai's eyes tried to return to the task at hand, but they met a distraction on the way, namely, her lips. Saints, her lips. He swallowed hard and tried to force his fingers to move. 

"Like what?" she demanded. 

"Like..." 

A girl in need of kissing. 

"...a toddler who tried to dress herself," he finished weakly. Then, as if his hand had a mind of its own, it drifted upwards and swept an errant lock of Zoya’s hair back behind her ear. His palm brushed her cheek and hovered there. He could scarcely breathe as if her closeness had sucked all the air from the room.

Zoya peered up at him from under her lashes, her gaze inscrutable. Then she sighed and let her cheek rest against his palm for the briefest heartbeat. Her warmth had barely registered before she was stepping back again, her general’s mask firmly back in place as if nothing had happened. Nikolai tried not to let it sting too much as he tucked his hands into his coat pockets. 

“Anything else for me to fix? A broken shoe? A lonely heart?”

The last one was a jest, but Zoya’s lips pursed as if he’d caused a problem she’d have to fix later. “No. Let’s go. The Triumvirate has been waiting long enough.”

She turned to go, then paused halfway to the door. A foolish seed of hope took root in Nikolai’s heart, only to be trampled with her next words.

“Don’t forget your gloves.”

She swept out of the room without another backwards glance, the scent of wildflowers and thunderstorms left in her wake. 

He would play her game, he decided as he found his gloves and slipped them on. Having his heart broken by Zoya Nazyalensky was still preferable to the impossibility of staying away from her. 

[thisisthehardestthing]

тоска, 18+ Tanaka x Reader, 2.2

Written for The Smut Pile Server Collab: Mafia AU | MASTERLIST HERE.

тоска tus-ka: Russian, noun It is a dull ache of the soul, a sick pining, a vague restlessness, mental throes, yearning. In particular cases, it may be the desire for somebody or something specific, nostalgia, lovesickness.

Russian Mafia AU: Tanaka Ryu x A Reader OC Rating: E for explicit Warnings: Violence, Blood, Death, Masturbation, Oral sex, Public Sex, Grinding, Cheating, Denied Orgasm, Manipulation, YEARNING Word count: 9,328 Part 1 | Part 2

GLOSSARY

Enjoy the final part of this two part hell.

Special thanks to: @joyousandverywarlike for being my ride-or-die,  @pleasantanathema , @present-mel and @linestrider for hosting this collab, and everyone in the server for being amazing friends. I would not have been able to write this without any of you, and I truly mean that. @the-smut-pile​

2.2

6. Tanaka

Daichi, Sergei, Ryunoslav and Yuuri sit in the wooden banya, white towels wrapped around their waists as they sweat and speak about the Georgian trip. It smells of cedar, rich and woody, and sweat. Like men.

“Boss Vashadze is unwell,” Daichi muses, knees spread wide as he relaxes against the hot walls, facing the glass door. “It won’t be long until he retires.”

Tanaka sits perpendicular to him, on a lower step with one foot perched up and his leg bent. Yuuri is opposite Tanaka, and Sergei stands, lightly smacking his back with a Venik, the scent of eucalyptus and birch dispersing through the air with each tap against his skin.

“That is good for you, bad for connections,” Sergei says, “how is business there?”

He always talked numbers first, pleasure second. Yuuri laughs, reaching for the besom of herbs from Sergei’s hold to lash his legs.

“Fine. I am gaining more of a footing around the ministers... However it will still take some time before they trust me. There are rumors of a new political party rising. We have to keep an eye open for unrest in Eastern Europe.”

“Ukraine?” Sergei asks, rubbing some of the leaves that stuck to his arms into his skin.

Daichi nods, then his eyes slide sideways to peer at Tanaka. His shaved hair has grown out slightly, which will be trimmed tonight, and he picks at his toenail of the foot bent beneath him.

“We can discuss strategy after we eat. How was your weekend, Ryunoslav?” The Bulldog asks, eyebrows raised.

Tanaka lifts his head casually with a simple smile.

“Just what I needed, spasiba Boss.”

Daichi’s laugh booms in the sauna, and Yuuri joins in, slapping the wood next to his thigh.

“Tell us more, Ryu! When I saw the first prostitute leave after thirty minutes, I thought it was over. But then, when I saw a second one arrive at midnight, I thought you must’ve not enjoyed the first.”

Tanaka frowns, looking at Yuuri in confusion before realising who he meant. He had seen Valentina arrive late at night, although he didn’t recognise her, or so he hopes.

“She was banging on the door very loudly, woke me up. Tell me, was it the same one from before wanting a second round?”

With a glance to Daichi, who is scanning his every expression,Tanaka shrugs.

“It was the same whore. I must be very good in bed.”

All the men burst out in laughter, but Tanaka laughs the loudest in compensation. Daichi closes his eyes as he tilts his head back.

“Well, she stayed for a long time. I only saw her leave past five am.”

“Yuuri, are you stalking Ryunoslav?” Sergei questions, using the water the Venik was soaking in to rinse off his body, the liquid sizzling as it hits the warm floor by his feet.

“No, I just found it interesting that Ryunoslav will fuck someone twice in a single night when there’s only been one woman he’s ever wan-”

“Yuuri.” Tanaka growls, cutting off his closest friend who has had too much vodka before entering the sauna. The heat and alcohol is loosening his tongue too quickly. Daichi sits up at this news, leaning forward so that muscle bulge and inflate.

“Oh? Is this true? Who is this woman?”

Tanaka waves his hand dismissively as he glares at Yuuri, “I met her years ago, when I first started working for you, Boss. No one of importance now.”

“Surely she still means something if you don’t want Yuuri to talk about her.” Sergei chimes in, climbing past their heads to sit on the top bench next to Daichi. Tanaka avoids his gaze, but can feel the Bulldog sniffing at the faint nerves that climb up Tanaka’s spine, his ears blushing red from the heat. He feels closed in, backed into a corner.

“It is an unrequited love, so please, I would prefer not to speak about it anymore.”

The men all murmur in understanding, except for Yuuri, who says, “I will just have to get you drunk to tell us about her then.”

7 - Valentina

Daichi sits across from you in the chartered jet, the beige leather seats muted even further with the deep rumble of the engine and the third glass of champagne in your veins. He’s reading a newspaper, you’re staring out at the cotton-peach clouds as they pass by. To your left, Sergei Sugawarov scribbles in books filled with numbers, the taptaptap of the calculator permeating the heavy air.

“Refill, Mrs. Sawamurova?” the air hostess asks, her smile wide as she holds the Moët & Chandon bottle in her manicured hands. She’s trembling slightly, and you smile reassuringly.

“Leave the bottle, thank you,” your heavy Russian accent drips from your tongue as you answer in English, and the bottle is placed in a silver ice bucket on the birchwood table between you and Daichi.

Two hours have passed during the five hour flight from Ufa Airport to Côte d'Azur Airport, and you pour another glass for yourself as you watch Daichi turn a page. He glances up at you with a small smile, but his eyes are hard. Something happened while he was in Georgia with your father. With a small smile of your own, you turn your gaze back to the window, leaving red lipstick on the rim of the glass.

A phone rings, and you hear Tanaka’s gruff voice answer the call, the memory of last week shooting painfully through your core.

“Oi?”

Some silence, before the Khazak turns in his seat behind Daichi and whispers through the space between the leather and the wall of the jet. You can’t help the way you look at him, stormy grey eyes peering out at you as he whispers into the ear of your husband. Your brow furrows when Daichi jerks his head in a slight nod, tense.

Tanaka retreats back around and you’re left staring at the empty spot, snapping your eyes to the calculating gaze of The Bulldog.

“Is everything alright, my love?” you ask, deciding to stand from your seat and sit on his arm rest.

Daichi folds the newspaper away, one arm wrapping around your waist while the other takes a sip of the champagne straight from the bottle.

“It seems this trip will not only be pleasure,” he muses, eyes closing as he swallows. However, when they open, his face melts into the calm reassurance you’ve always known when he smiles up at you and places a kiss to the cream wool crepe of your blouse. “I have something to take care of, but it will only be a moment. Nothing to worry about.”

You nod, delicate hands stroking at Daichi’s hair, but Tanaka’s cologne wafts up, invading your nose.

“I understand.”

***

The drive to the private Villa La Vigie winds between grey and green rock mountains to your left with glimpses of the dazzling azure ocean of where the French Riviera gets its name to your right. You’re invited to stay in the home of your fathers dear friend, Monsieur Lagerfeld, situated on a private hill just outside Monaco. He will not be there, March being the month he spends in his apartment in Paris, so you and Daichi and the many bodyguards take residence for the week.

You’ve visited this house a number of times in your youth, in your adulthood, and yet it steals the air from your lungs each time you return. It’s one o’clock in the afternoon when you pull up the driveway. In front of you, the two story villa looms in it’s beautiful white-painted glory, the sun a beacon shining upon it. Light brick extends below to where there is a wine cellar, garage and access to the private beach club below.

The car parks, and Daichi kisses your cheek in the backseat before he exits the vehicle and strides up the steps and through the large glass double doors, answering his phone while bodyguards open the way for him. You see Tanaka grip the steering wheel, the leather of his gloves stretch and squeak. It is the first time you are alone with him since that night a week ago, and the heater in the car feels sweltering against your skin.

“Thank you for the drive, Ryunoslav,” you mumble, shifting to the edge of the seat to leave out of the side Daichi had.

“Val,” he starts, then his mouth shuts and his eyes catch yours in the reflection of the rearview mirror, “of course.”

The terracotta tiles of the terrace reflect a salmon pink up the walls of the villa, and you smile at the men as you pass by and find the master bedroom on the first floor. You can already hear Daichi negotiating in the connected office, and you decide to bathe. As the water runs in the porcelain tub, the water mists with the scent of lavende de provence, and you open the windows looking out over the meditterean ocean. The salt and trees wash over you as the sound of the ocean crashing against rocks floats up, and for an instance, you imagine jumping out the window and into that endless blue. The winter air trickles into the warm bathroom.

Notes of a waltz dance in from the direction of the office and you see Daichi’s shadow move around in the bedroom as he unbuttons his cufflinks and loosens his navy blue tie. He walks into the bathroom where you’ve already slipped on the linen bathrobe, your blouse and jeans folded neatly onto the clothes ladder leaning against the wall.

“Care to join?” you ask, clipping your hair up. Daichi peels his shirt off and drops it near your own in a crumpled pile, his thick muscles rippling with each movement as he undresses.

“Prosti, Gadyuka. I have to get to the board meeting before the gala tonight,” he apologises, turning on the glass door shower as he gets into it on the opposite side to the bath. You watch as the water in the faucet of the bath sputters, and your heart imitates.

“Ah yes, I forgot. What-”

“The car arrives at seven, Khazak will escort you.”

Your head whips around to stare at Daichi as he massages white suds over his body, large palms running over his chest where the Sawamurov crest is tattooed in a large circle. He raises his eyebrows. You clear your throat, standing to drop the gown and dip a toe into the water.

“Not you?”

“Unfortunately no, but I will be there waiting for you. I know the dress you are wearing and can’t have any man trying to steal you for himself.”

Daichi’s honeyed words wash over you as you submerge into the water, turning off the faucet and staring out to the sea, a stark sapphire against the lily-white of the bathroom walls and window pane. In the mirror above the sink, you can see The Bulldog get out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his defined waist while he shakes the water from his hair.

You laugh as you turn to observe him while he pats on the cologne displayed on the sink, before brushing his teeth.

“I doubt anyone will try to steal me away.”

He looks at you in the reflection, a curious expression in his eyes, before he spits and rinses.

“Yes, well, you never know. You might run off with a French vineyard heir by the end of the night.”

“Never, Daichi. No one can be my Bulldog but you.”

He snorts, turning to watch as you lather yourself in Chanel shower gel, the scent mixing with the lavender already clinging to the air.

“Da, no one is like me.”

He leans down to place a chaste kiss on your lips before he exits the bathroom and changes into a clean outfit waiting for him in the Master bedroom. The made-to-measure Chanel suit hangs in a black garment bag that he carries out with him as he leaves to join the council meeting of the European Casino Association before the Annual Art Auction tonight.

The interaction runs through your mind as you mull over the look in his eyes, the way he tensed before he kissed you goodbye, the faintest flicker of jealousy in his eyes that flared when he joked about you leaving him. Suddenly, you remember Ryunoslav’s lips against your neck and you squeeze your eyes shut.  With a deep inhale, you sink deep under the water to feel it tickle your nostrils and earlobes, before submerging your head.

Your fingers find the curves of your thighs, dragging up slowly to feel how the water moves around your hands and displaces against your skin. You lift your face slightly, until the edge of the water tickles your skin and you inhale, swirling the skin of your clit. In your mind, Ryunoslav’s kisses fall hot and wet against your body, skin red and heated in the bathtub while you press hard circles against sensitive nerves. You’re not trying to take it slow, coaxing the first wave of clenches quickly as you imagine a thick cock sliding over and over inside you.

Ryunoslav morphs into Daichi, and you sit up with a gasp, fingers not slowing, your hand gripping the handle of the tub tightly as your abdomen contracts. Uncontrollably, Ryu and Daichi alternate, their bodies shifting fluidly until a faceless man fucks into you.

You orgasm on the verge of tears, confused and aching. The styling team will arrive in an hour.

You stand, feeling the cold winter air touch your heated skin. Wrapped again in the robe, you close the window and bind your hair in a towel.

A Russian Waltz still plays on the radio inside the ensuite office, and you look around to filter the channel to a French songstress crooning over the small speakers. Next to the stereo, is Daichi’s small black book, open to his to-do list, and your eyes scan over it before you can stop yourself, reading the neatly scribbled words.

14 March 2006, 1:00 am, La Serpent Fleur

That was the name of the Superyacht you and Daichi are to go on after the gala for the afterparty to the auction. You frown, thinking of the myriad of reasons what he might do there, who he’ll meet with other than the ECA board today. It must be to do with what happened in Georgia and was whispered to him during the flight.

You turn, leaving the book just as you found it and unpack the suitcase that was brought to the bedroom in preparation for tonight.

8. Tanaka

Ryunoslav waits at the front door, facing the short five-stair foyer that branches into the stairwell leading to the first floor. The golden light of the sunset filters in gentle waves through the chiffon curtains of the entry hall.

The first thing he sees of Valentina is in the reflection of the large silver mirror facing the stairwell on the landing. A single leg slinking out from a thigh-high slit, while a heart shaped pump in patent black is clasped around her ankle. The metal YSL heel clinks with each step. Next is the black, silk crepe de chine perfectly draping to the floor–not clinging to anything but the curve of her hips–and the bodice tailored to her waist in a tight structure that pendulums side-to-side.

However, what steals the very air from his lungs, stops his heart, is the bustier covering her breasts. The dress is strapless, the neckline two rounded cups that trace down the sides of her cleavage and towards her ribs before turning and meeting in a gentle hill at the end of her sternum. The dress is Yves Saint Laurent. Ryunoslav watches as Valentina rounds the stairwell and stands at the top of the foyer, opera length gloves running up her arms and with one hand on her hip while the other clasps a small black Bulgari clutch. Around her neck is a pendant necklace, emeralds glittering amongst diamonds and silver, set in the shape of a viper head. Matching emerald drop earrings hang from her lobes, reflecting the golden sun and glittering green against her neck. Valentina’s hair is pinned up, and that tattoo that curls from her left shoulder down her arm disappears beneath the gloves, reminding him that beauty is a secret poison. He swallows, blinks, then climbs up the steps to hand her the white fur coat he was holding.

“Vot eto da… You look beautiful, Mrs. Sawamurova.�� Tanaka whispers, mindful of the bodyguards and staff littering the villa.

“Spasiba, Khazak,” she smiles, slipping her arms into the silk lining and fixing the collar. “Is the car ready?”

“Da.”

“Good, let’s go.”

The exchange between them feels mechanical, and Tanaka rushes ahead to open the car door, waiting until she is comfortable before shutting it and sliding into the driver’s seat. It is nowhere near the low temperatures of Russia in March, however he can’t stop the shivers that travel up his spine, and the ugly twist of jealousy that stabs at his heart.

The Casino de Monte Carlo, where the gala is being held, is a mere five minute drive from the villa, yet the silence is heavy, weighted, and slows down time.

“I missed you last week,” Valentina whispers, looking out the window at the midnight blue sky. A traffic light changes from red to green.

“Me too.”

The conversation ends when Ryunoslav pulls the Aston Martin around the fountain, waiting behind a elder couple stepping out of their black limo. The statues on either side of the Casino name look down at him as he parks and climbs out, a porter beating him to her door.

Camera’s flash, the music of a quartet floats out from the massive wooden doors up the entryway, and Ryunoslav remains closely behind Valentina’s right arm as he escorts her inside, pulling the ticket for both of them from his inner coat pocket and handing it to the doorman.

The grand foyer of the Casino is massive, ceilings high with a stained-glass skylight and the floor a white tile with black triangles in a circular pattern. Posed around the room, mostly in the center of the circles, are the artworks up for auction: a variety of paintings, sculptures, artifacts and some vintage designer jewellery. The golden chandeliers light the air with a sepia filter that softens the chatter and noise within. On the first floor bannister across the long hall, is a banner exclaiming, ‘2006 Annual ECA Art Auction’. Couples mingle, champagne is sipped and the Hors d’oeuvres are ignored in favour of the alcohol.

“I will check our coats,” Tanaka murmurs low in Russian, watching as Val slides the white fur down her arms to hand it to him with a polite smile, the kind he’s seen her wear in the public eye alongside Daichi for many years now.

“I’ll wait here, then we go find Daichi.”

His heart thumps painfully, the curve of her shoulders delicate as they flex in passing the heavy coat, but he nods and heads to the coat check just off the side. In passing, he spots Daichi at the top of the red-carpeted staircase, head bowed to speak secretly with someone Ryunoslav can not see, but knows. Daichi’s eyes find the growing storm in Tanaka’s with a smile, and he straightens to bid the woman a goodbye and descends the stairs.

“Sir,” Tanaka nods, pocketing the number for the coats.

“Ryunoslav,” Daichi returns the greeting, casually clapping the man on his shoulder. “Enjoy the evening, I will see you at the yacht later, yes?”

“She could’ve seen you, sir.” Tanaka whispers, carefully keeping eye contact with his Boss. Daichi smirks cooly, glancing back up the stairs and at a retreating woman’s back wearing a deep green dress.

“She did not see me. Thank you, again, for keeping this secret. Now, go, enjoy the party. Hell, if you see something you like, bid on it. I will pay.”

With that, Daichi walks past his Head of Security, chest puffing up as he walks towards his wife. Ryunoslav watches as she gives Daichi a gentle kiss on the cheek before wrapping a gloved hand around his bicep and following him into the crowd.

9. Valentina

The evening passes by in a blur.

The dinner and speeches take up half the evening before the auction begins, and the gala attendees disperse throughout the Casino, while you and Daichi walk to the gardens. Heaters are spaced periodically, warmth sinking below while gentle lights litter the walkways and grass. The stone steps leading there are cool, and you see your breath misting with each exhale before you’re back under the warmth.

The area of the auction outside has statues, planted with lighting that bring the romantic and violent figures to life.

“This one would look beautiful in our gardens in summer,” you muse, studying a small mermaid brushing her hair, tail flicked up and shells covering her breast.

“Anything for you,” Daichi replies, writing down a number with his auction code and placing it in the poll box besides the statue.

You just laugh politely, aware of Daichi’s two bodyguards following the both of you.

“Let’s go back inside. I want to see how our bid on the Kandinsky is doing.” Daichi offers, but you shake your head.

“I’ll walk around here for a bit longer. It’s such a beautiful night and the noise inside was giving me a headache.”

“As you wish.”

You spend a few minutes admiring the remaining statues, finding a waiter that hands you a glass of champagne. With small sips, you hug an arm around your waist, looking over the stone wall at the beautiful, glittering scenery of Monte-Carlo below. You find yourself tucked away in a dark corner of the ledge, where the lights of the gala are few, the tree branches of the gardens overhang, and the city has come to life beneath you. You can hear jazz music from a bar down the road, and you wish you were sitting on a terrace with a glass of wine instead.

“C’est magnifique, non?” A heavy french accent sinks into you, and you glance at the man that leans with his back to the view, a deep purple suit contrasting against his tanned skin and sharp cheekbones. He smokes a hand-rolled cigarette. You look back out at the city.

“Oui, trop beau,” you reply softly, taking another sip, shifting onto the foot farthest from the stranger. He turns and offers you one of the smokes, tucking it away in his jacket breast pocket with a smile and a tap when you decline. His eyes travel down your breasts, before glancing back up to your arching brows and unamused eyes.

“Je ne parle pas de la vue,” I do not mean the view, “Emmanuelle Beauchant,” he offers an outstretched palm.

“Valentina,” he lifts your gloved hand to his lips, but hovers just above contact when you continue, “Sawamurova.”

“Desolee, I did not realise you were not French, or married,” Emmanuelle apologises in English.

You smile politely, lifting the glass to your mouth to down the last of the fizzing alcohol.

“An honest mistake.”

“Your husband’s Casinos are some of my favourites. Please, accept my apologies. Let me get you a new glass.” He waves down a waiter, plucking the empty flute from your fingers and replacing it before you can reject. “I am the coordinator of this petite soiree. Enjoy your evening, Mrs. Sawamurova.” With that, he leaves in a hurry, scampering off into the light much like he had appeared, leaving you alone again. Almost.

You feel the warmth of another body to your right, and you almost sigh from exhaustion when Ryunoslav’s gruff voice washes over you in comforting Russian. It breaks like the wave against the shore.

“I thought I would have to scare him away.”

Tanaka’s serious eyes beneath the shadow of a deep brow pulls the first real chuckle of the evening from your chest, and you see his shoulders somewhat relax as he leans with a hip on the stone.

“It was innocent, Ryu.”

“He wanted to fuck you.”

“He’s French,” you counter, placing the champagne glass down, sliding it away from your body and towards the party. “And everyone wants to fuck me.”

You spin, losing your balance as Tanaka pulls your hand towards him and twists you so that your back presses against the cool stone in a darkened alcove. His forehead is on yours, eyes shut, and breath fanning over your lips. Your own chest heaves with the sudden rush. His hands dig into your hips, yours into his shoulders. Your bag drops to the floor.

“You have no idea,” each word is punctuated by palms shimmying up the side of your waist, thumbs digging into the fabric, “how badly I want to fuck you too.”

He wraps his thick forearms behind your back hugging you tight and into himself as he folds over you and brings his lips to touch yours. It’s deep, and although passion usually pours from his kiss, this one is born out of jealousy, desperation, and desire.

Compliments drip like honey from Ryunoslav’s mouth as he mumbles them into your skin, words melting so that they become part of you.

“Ryu, Ryu, stop, we can’t. It’s so open.”

He shushes you, a palm snaking under the boning of the open neckline to cup the breast, nipplie erect from the night chill. “No one saw me come here.”

“But the people. They know who I am, mmpf.” A pinch to your nipple has you moaning under your breath, head tilting back against the stone, cold against heated flesh.

“They are all too busy with their own conquests, showing up one another.”

“You light a fire in my heart,” his onslaught of compliments don’t cease, and you realise that tonight is the tipping point. The intensity of his words drag you beneath his waters, much like the way his fingers find the high slit of your dress and sink into your folds. Your knee falls open to let him pull you deeper.

“Underwear?”

“Not with this dress.”

“Whore.” Teeth nip at your neck.

“Yours.”

An animalistic groan rumbles through your veins from his mouth, and you clutch at the lapel of his jacket as his fingers thrust shallow, over and over again. You want him–need him– inside you, and the thought of public sex no longer scares you. In this moment, only Ryunoslav exists, the smell of lilies and the fresh ocean fill you, devouring you with a hint of something darker that you recognise as human.

Sin. And something else.

A zipper comes down, his cock unfolds and stretches you out.

“I love you.”

The words tumble from your lips before you can stop them, and even then, you don’t keep them in as you whisper, him thrustsing into your aching core. You vaguely hear him mumbling it back to you. His voice low and sincere, forehead against yours, lips against yours. Your bodies become one.

“Blyat, where can I?” desperation fills his voice, and you barely utter the words before he spills inside you, keeping you warm and plugged up, panting against his face, chin tucked down.

A hand rifles through his pants pocket, and he pulls out his regular small handkerchief, stained, but comforting. You take it from him, careful to keep your face hidden as he pulls out and you wipe yourself under your skirt.

“Ryunoslav.” His name feels like lava, molten on your tongue as it rolls down your body and ignites a fire over your skin, burning you. “We have to stop seeing each other.”

He tenses against you, arms shielding you from the world so only the two of you exist.

“Why?”

“We’ve changed. We’re not just having fun anymore, Ryu-”

“What do you mean we’ve changed?”

“Us. This.” You curse, gesturing vaguely to him and yourself, feeling the fire spread to your ears and your heart.

“Nothing has changed. I have always loved you.”

Your heart drops into your stomach, turning over and over as you digest it, painfully aware of how much truth rings in his words, and how you’re sure you’ve always loved him back.

“We have to stop. Or we have to tell Daichi.”

His lips connect with your forehead. You hear him swallow.

“Tonight then. Together.”

“Together.”

Ryunoslav stays close to you as he picks up the bag from the floor, handing you the mirror inside to fix your lipstick, your hair, before you dust the stone from your back and ass.

“You look beautiful,” he whispers to you a final time, stepping to the side so you emerge from the shadow, pick up your forgotten champagne glass and head back into where art dances together and people mingle.

10. Tanaka

Tanaka watches as Valentina saunters away, past the bodies to rejoin the party. With a heavy sigh, he leans against the stone, cooling his forehead and calming his thumping heart. His feet bump against something and with one eye, he squints at the ground and spots glittering emeralds in the dark. Her necklace.

Quickly, he picks it up, carefully placing it in his suit jacket pocket, and curses when he sees the time on his watch. He has to find Daichi and head to the yacht to do the final security checks before he arrives. Vines wrap themselves around his intestines, anxiety leaking into each step, the emerald necklace a dead weight in his jacket.

He finds the Boss surrounded by influential board members, holding a glass of vodka casually as they all laugh at his jokes. The Chanel suit drapes down his broad back perfectly, clean cut and sharp, the single seam a crisp line.

“Sorry for interrupt,” Tanaka apologies, English tangling on his tongue. He continues in a low Russian to Daichi, sweat beading on the back of his neck, palms clammy and therefore kept in his pants pocket. It’s better that way, his tattoos are less appreciated around the higher class of society.

Daichi nods, a loose smile along with his loosened tie. He hands Tanaka a paper that shows he won the bid on the Kandinsky painting. “Arrange this on the way out. Leave Valentina’s coat with mine.”

“Ya ponimayu.”

Tanaka turns to leave, but Daichi calls out one more time.

“Ryunoslav?”

“Da?”

“You have lipstick on your collar.”

Tanaka feels nausea bubbling up his gut, not from the proximity of your scent to The Bulldog’s nose, but from the thought of later tonight. He forces a cocky smirk and shrug, turning on his heel to head to the back office to finalise the paperwork for the painting and add the delivery address, before shrugging his thick coat on and stepping outside by the valet. The air has cooled considerably from the heat of the balcony and between your thighs. Once safely in the car, he rubs the stain furiously in the reflection of the rearview mirror, making it set even further into the white fabric. It blends into the threads like spilt blood. With a grumble, he drives to the harbor.

La Serpent Fleur is a sleek superyacht with three decks above water and one below, housing jet ski’s, a speedboat, storage and crew quarters. The middle and lower decks have outdoor and indoor seating, with main bedrooms for up to 15 couples to sleep in. The flooring and interior is light teakwood, rich brown accents amongst cream and white leather and fabric. It’s unmissable in the late night, lit up in silvery white, the name illuminated against a navy blue sky and pitch black water. It reflects stars in the meditterean sea.

Tanaka greets all staff, deploying his bratva across the yacht to inspect all rooms and inform the captain of the upcoming helicopter landing at 1:00 am. It’s not often that Mafia business mixes with Business business, but as money is always intertwined, this time, it is unavoidable. The pool on the top deck shimmers aquamarine, and Tanaka inspects that the bar is fully stocked for the upcoming meeting. Vodka and Campari. This floor is only for Daichi and a select few.

“It’s like I’m a fucking assistant,” he grumbles under his breath, withdrawing a small hand-gun strapped to his calf and securing it in the hidden shelf under the bar top. You never know, he smiles, tapping the holster against his back for comfort.

All checks are done by the time the first of the guests arrive, high-stakes rollers for the gambling about to happen. Tanaka keeps to the shadows, lighting a cigarette as he surveys the walkway leading up to the yacht, and it’s guests. They are all smiling, huddling together in their pair against the cool ocean breeze. He takes a look at the pack that was confiscated from Ukai with distaste, flicking the cigarette into the ocean water.

Daichi and Valentina are the last to arrive, and although he’s smiling, she is not, lipstick slightly faded and a smudge of mascara under her eyes. Tanaka watches as she disappears as soon as she set foot on the yacht, hurrying off to inside the cabin before anyone can stop her. Tanaka’s eyes follow her retreating figure, the white of her coat bristling, before he steps up to greet Daichi.

“Everything is ready for Kuroo Testuro to arrive, Boss,” he reports, murmuring low.

“Perfect, evening has turned into disaster. Make sure no one will disturb us except for emergency. It will not take long. What is his eta?” Daichi never lowers the corners of his mouth, but those brown eyes are hard mahogany. Tanaka checks his watch, the light above reflecting in the glass, shining in the storm in his eyes.

“Forty-five minutes. We have to set sail now, all guests have arrived and the poker tables inside have been set up.”

“I will wait upstairs.”

“Yes, Boss.”

Tanaka sighs, running a hand over his shorn hair, a shiver rippling down his spine. He hears his name, and he turns to face one of his brothers, following after to inspect a stairwell.

It does not take long for the party to fall into full swing. Continuing with free-flowing champagne is the key to keeping rich socialites and underground dealers happy and oblivious. Daichi stands near the railing, ice cubes in his glass clinking while he surveys the decks below and waits. Tanaka stands to attention off the side, the cool winter air breezing through his suit jacket, the veins on his knuckles and forearms almost frozen; he stuffs them into his pockets. The cool silver of Valentina’s necklace shocks him and he remembers he has to sneak it back to her. He peers over the edge, spotting her in the distance, smiling once more, makeup fixed and socialising.

His heart thumps, emeralds and diamonds cutting a hole in his jacket pocket, beating faster until it syncs up with the incoming helicopter blades. They whir around in a steady beat that consumes the noise below and thrums through his bones. Then, the wind hits him. Air cold as ice as the machine descends, the collar of his jacket whipping up and folding into itself. Kuroo Testuro has arrived.

The blades come to a halt and Tanaka steps forward, two men overtaking him to climb up the stairs of the helicopter pad landing and open the door. Long legs dressed in a black pin-stripe suit step out, a lopsided cocky smirk plastered on the Italian boss’s face.

“Ciao Daichi, it’s been a while!” Kuroo calls over the wind, arms stretching out while he’s patted down. “Khazak, you’re looking sour.”

Tanaka scowls, not entirely sure what The Panther of the Testuro family said to him. Daichi turns to face the man completely, walking until he stands next to Tanaka, waiting for the man to descend the white metal stairs to the upper deck. The Boss’s exchange a stiff handshake, their eyes piercing as one fights for dominance over the other. Daichi wins, his hand slapping against Kuroo’s back in a hearty greeting.

“Let’s get to business, something to drink?” The Bulldog offers, but Kuroo is laughing, already walking to the leather sofas around the pool, flopping down onto it with one leg crossed over the other. He waves to one of his bodyguards, pointing at the bar.

“Always so formal Daichi, tell me, how is Valentina? Still married to you?” Kuroo’s words tumble out quickly, Italian accent thick enough that Tanaka can only pick up on a few words. He registers your name, and the hairs on the back of his neck stand to attention, ready to attack at Daichi’s order. The Boss takes a deep breath, his teeth gritting.

“She is fine. Enjoying party below.”

“Pity, I think she’d be happier up here with us. Won’t you call her?”

“Careful, Kuroo.”  Daichi warns, but the Panther just smiles his wicked Cheshire grin in return.

“Ah, I’m joking. I will just keep the fantasy of her lips around my–”

A hand darts out over Kuroo’s shoulder, interrupting any further explanation of imagination. Tanaka grabs Daichi’s arm, one that had tensed with it’s fist closed around a concealed gun in a holster on his back.

“Campari, sir?”

“Ah! Grazie!” He takes a sip, setting it down on the glass table beside him. “Now, we can talk business.”

Tanaka listens to the low conversation between the two bosses, the discussion of the new trade route of cocaine between Italy and Russia. It takes some time to adjust to the accent, but then he’s following along, standing with his hands in his pockets, a thumb gliding over the necklace. There had been an interruption along the coasts between Lecce and Albania, several different Sicillian Mafia’s holding up some of Daichi’s shipments due to unpaid ‘reparations’, a farce to ignite a turf war between the Families in Italy and their Russian connections.

“You must call off your friends in Italy. We keep up our end of bargain. I will not be so understanding in future.”

“Ah, but you see, they are greedy and believe you are not paying properly for the passage.”

“I assure you, I am.”

Tanaka stiffens, seeing how Daichi begins to inflate, irritation lacing his voice. Kuroo chuckles, taking a slow sip with raised eyebrows.

“Oh, I believe you. I can convince them but I’ll need some extra incentive from your end.”

Tanaka speaks up, eyes narrowing as he sniffs out Kuroo’s angle. “We can not give you that.”

“You are one of the largest groups in the world, surely you have some men for me?”

“No.”

Tanaka’s blood begins to boil, nails biting into the skin of his palms enough to draw blood. The gun strapped on his back heavy as it calls to be unholstered. His men are not dispensable. Kuroo sighs, then his eyes glance to the left where the noise of the party floats in the night air, and he smiles.

“Then maybe you have a woman.”

Tanaka turns to follow his gaze, and climbing up the stairs slowly is Valentina, a hand on the metal rail, the white fur coat hanging down her back as it drapes from her elbows, lipstick blood red. She’s drunk, giggling to herself but stops when a vor blocks the final step onto the deck. Then, she sobers, straightening instantly with narrowed eyes.

“Asahi,” she says, voice sharp but breathless.

“The Boss is in a meeting.”

Her makeup had been fixed, the tips of her nose and ears pink from the chill, her hair no longer pinned up but wild down her back from the wind. Tanaka glances at Daichi, his eyes muddy and lips tightly pursed.

“Oh, let her join, huh?” Kuroo grins, setting his glass down and leaning forward to interlock his fingers and rest his elbows on his knees. “Surely, you trust her enough.”

“Of course.”

Daichi and his guest battle in their stares, but ultimately the Panther wins. With a sigh, Daichi calls out to Alexei, “let her through.”

Valentina strides over to the men, coat dragging on the floor behind her. Surprising everyone, she stops in front of the cocky bastard, who stands to greet her, and their cheeks brush twice, left then right.

“Kuroo, how lovely to see you again. I hope my husband is kind.”

Tanaka holds back a wince, the feeling of her warm breath against his neck still teasing him in his memories. He has to admire her acting, even inebriated, she commands attention. Their eyes follow when she walks to the head of the table and flops down onto the chair, slit falling open with crossed legs.

“He’ll be kinder now that you are here.”

Valentina laughs, “yes, but I might not be.”

“Enough.” Daichi cuts through the jovial small talk, fists clenching and resting on his knees, his back straight. “I am tired of games.”

Tanaka thinks he catches a double meaning, heart racing as he readies himself for anything.

“You own Casinos,” Kuroo drawls, but he’s no longer smiling, still standing. Daichi gets to his feet, shorter than his counterpart, but thicker.

“We are getting nowhere. I will not be included in your battle for control, and if my next shipment continues to be held, God is not the only one that can turn water into wine. Capisci?”

Their stares are intense, and seconds tick by in eternity, before Kuroo nods with a sigh, a hand tucking into his pants pocket while the other extrends. They shake, curt and stiff, and Tanaka rolls his shoulders, loosening the knots in his upper back, eyeing Valentina curiously. She has her eyes focused on Daichi, pupils narrow and mouth pressed into a thin line; the same look she had when she boarded the yacht. She snaps out of it, lips curling up as she stands.

“It was a pleasure, although short,” Kuroo tells her, and they exchange polite kisses. Tanaka hears the rumble in Daichi’s chest, and he briefly wonders if she’s purposefully trying to anger the Bulldog. She’s always been unafraid of his bark, a viper teasing with her fangs.

They wait until Kuroo climbs back in the helicopter, until the blades whir to life with that beating drum that pumps adrenaline through his body and until it is quiet once more, the waves sloshing far below against the yacht. The air is crisp, and the silence heavy. Valentina turns to face Daichi, neck tense, mouth open but Daichi cuts her off.

“Don’t embarrass me like that again.”

Tanaka bristles, the hair on the back of his neck standing up. He controls the need to step in front of Val, to shield her from his Boss. The weight of her necklace in his pocket keeps him anchored. His heart pounds in his ears, Daichi glances at him briefly before keeping an unwavering eye on Valentina’s fierce gaze. It’s odd. Tanaka always has a plan, knows what will happen next, and yet, he is at a loss. Unsteady on his feet as the boat rocks. He’s unsure of what she will do, how she will tell her possessive husband–

“I’m seeing someone.”

11. Valentina

Lightning flashes in the distance when the words leave your lips, the thunder rumbling in the silence that follows. You watch Daichi carefully, standing your ground even though parts of you scream to take a few steps back. You resist the temptation to glance at Ryunoslav. During your musings, you decided not to say who it was right away. Daichi glances down at your bare neck, the necklace he’d given you missing, lost somewhere at the gala when you finally lost yourself in emotion. You remember the fight with him when leaving the venue.

You expected Daichi to burst in anger, explode outwards and destroy everything with his fury. Yet he remains silent, eyes mattifying as he draws inward, no longer oiled mahogany but rather sanded wood. When he speaks, it’s so low you almost miss it, but it penetrates you with the next flash of lightning.

“Leave.”

White, hot anger burns through you at his command, your hands raising as though to grab his lapel. Quickly, you reroute to pulling your fur coat back onto your shoulders.

“You don’t want to know who?”

“You don’t want to know what I am thinking right now, Gadyuka.”

You open your mouth to respond, but Ryunoslav cuts you off, “take the boat, please.”

You stare incredulously at him, but he is already speaking in a low voice onto a handheld receiver, then back at Daichi, who’s body slowly begins to vibrate. However, Daichi is no longer looking at you. Instead, his eyes have shifted to Ryu, brows furrowed. Thunder claps. You feel the first spray of rain misting onto your eyelashes.

“Fine, we will talk more at breakfast.”

You turn on your heel, the sound grating against the wooden deck, and someone from the Brigade accompanies you down the stairs, walking just slightly ahead of you, silently asking you to follow.

You descend slowly, crossing the second deck with a practised smile, apologising to anyone that approaches you with an easy lie. Most of the crewmen begin to pack up and rearrange the party to continue on indoors. You enter the large cabin, and walk down another flight of stairs, to the first deck and then lower still. Here, the walls change from luxurious wooden, glass and metal to open beams, and white gritty flooring. It’s slightly wet, from the rain that batters against the open exit and the ocean water shimmering inside.

A small speedboat waits for you, not fully submerged, and a captain, yet his face is wary.

“Mrs. Sawamurova,” he holds his hat in his hands, a navy raincoat wrapped around his uniform, “wouldn’t you rather wait for the storm to pass? Please, enjoy the evening and when the water is still, I can take you to shore in an instant.”

“My husband wants me gone.”

“But not dead.”

You laugh, bitterly, feeling your intestines swirl, unsettled by those words. He’s brave.

“How long do you think it will take?”

“A few minutes, maximum. It is the winter rain, harsh but quick.”

“I will wait here.”

12. Tanaka

When the top of Valentina’s head disappears down the stairs, Daichi speaks, not looking at Tanaka. The first of fat raindrops begin to fall onto their shoulders.

“I will have to talk to her father, after I kill her.”

Tanaka’s tongue is heavy in his mouth, every bump dry and scratching against his throat. He can’t be serious. Slowly, Daichi turns to face him, eyes raking over his closest subordinate’s features, down his throat, and settles on the crisp white collar peeking out from his suit jacket, stained the same colour as Valentina’s lipstick.

“Khazak, who is it?”

“Boss–” but he doesn’t know what to say. The memories of the prison hospital bed, bare with just a sheet, an unsterilised IV drip stuck into his arm flashes in front of his mind. Daichi’s calm face that visited him before he woke up somewhere else.

“Tell me right now, or does your loyalty mean nothing?”

Tanaka winces, “nyet, Boss, you know I am loyal to you.”

He takes a deep breath, then reaches inside, fingers looping around diamonds to pull out the necklace, the viper head swaying back and forth. His heart claps with the thunder, the clouds breaking into a heavy downpour. Chill sets in instantly, his bones freezing beneath his suit.

“Supply snakes with a meal, and you will have them all by the fangs,” Daichi whispers under his breath, barely audible above the pattering of the drops against the floor, but Tanaka’s sensitive ears pick it up. “She played me for a fool.” Daichi’s wide-set eyes lift from the necklace to Tanaka’s.

“Mne ochyn zhal,” Tanaka begins to apologise profusely, but the hardened look shuts him up.

“I was wrong, Khazak,” Daichi interrupts, his hands moving to his pockets, Tanaka dropping his arm to his side. He starts to walk towards the sheltered area of the deck, withdrawing a pack of cigarettes. “You are the one that is going to have to kill her.”

Tanaka’s heart drops to his stomach, falling straight into the floor and sinking to the bottom of the unruly ocean. The Boss does not joke around, but he wishes for it to be one.

“I can not, Boss,” his head shakes, body vibrates. This is the first time he has ever refused an order from Daichi. The Bulldog watches with raised eyebrows, the question evident on his face.

“I am in love with her.”

The bark that erupts from Daichi’s throat echoes above the rain, above the thunder, and shatters inside Tanaka’s heart. He holds the cigarette to his lips, and Tanaka feels the rain drip down the rivulets of his shaved hair and under the collar of his suit and shirt. There’s a flicker of orange as the Marlboro tip glows.

“And you think she loves you back? Valentina is a snake, a woman. They know only two things: how to lie and how to fuck. You have fucked her, da? It’s magnificent. Was she the second whore of that weekend? Or was she first as well? How long have you been fucking my wife, Ryunoslav?”

Tanaka wants to answer, but it catches in his throat. His tongue refuses to mould the shapes, his lungs refuse to exhale the sound. Daichi sighs.

“It does not matter. Only one thing matters. Come.”

Tanaka walks towards Daichi, each step kicking water down his shoes, his socks wet. He’s never felt more like the ocean than now, swallowed by the rain, drowning. He stops when he stands under the partition, Daichi’s large hands cupping themselves under Tanaka’s chin to lift his head slightly, wiping the rain from his skin, the gold rings cold against his jaw. There may have been tears but Tanaka can’t tell, numb and expectant of Daichi’s next words,

“Tell me, do you love her more than me?”

Cigarette smoke tickles Tanaka’s nose, and he holds his breath. Without him, Tanaka would be dead. Daichi knows this, Tanaka knows this.

“I owe you my life, Pakhan.”

“Now, you owe me a life. I am not without mercy. You have been the closest brother to me. You have tasted the sweet fruit of sin, I can not blame you. You know I have done it too. But I am expected to sleep with someone else. She has embarrassed me. I can not have that. A Boss that can not keep his woman in line? No one will respect me, her own father will not respect me.”

Tanaka remembers the conversation in the banya, the plans to take over completely, the poor health Valentina’s old man is in.

“Are you loyal, or are you just another predatel, scum like the men you erase from existence?”

The storm in Tanaka’s eyes swirl around, clashing against the hard forest floor of Daichi’s. He is loyal. Strangely, in this moment, he remembers the lilies of his home, and their sweet, comforting fragrance, his mother making dinner, and his sister who ran with him to their new life before separating. The pain of losing her no longer stabs at him, maybe this pain someday will not either.

13. Valentina

The room is white and grey, the smell of oil and rubber and metal and salt clinging to the air, to your skin. All the alcohol consumed over the evening seeps from your pores, creating a pounding in your head. You begin to wonder if it was ever a good idea to tell Daichi. You wonder what happened when you left, and you wonder where your necklace is. Your fingers brush over your sternum, feeling the ghost of the viper head and of Tanaka’s mouth.

You taptaptap your toes against the floor, the rain echoing in time, the water drawing in and out rhythmically as you wait for the storm to pass. Only a few minutes, you were told.

“Few minutes, my ass.”

The walkie-talkie connected to the captain’s hip shocks to life, and broken Russian floats up, but you can’t make out the words. He answers, smiles at you, “please, wait here. I will be back soon.”

Then, he leaves, and you’re left alone with the brat that accompanied you. He sighs heavily, as though the inconvenience to him is all your doing, and you glare.

“Is there a problem, soldier?” you ask, standing straight, arms crossed in front of your chest. They seem to forget, Daichi married into your family, not the other way around.

“Nyet, Gadyuka, prosti,” he apologises quickly.

Silence settles over the hull again, claustrophobia leaching into your veins. If you look out at the open hatch, you can see inky blackness, and far in the distance, the faint yellow lights of Monte Carlo. You are about to ask for some water when footsteps echo against the metal walls, a familiar gait.

“Leave us, pazolvste.”

Ryunoslav says to his subordinate, who swiftly salutes him and walks up the stairs. The door at the top clicks shut. You’re speechless, and he is sopping wet.

“Ryu,” you whisper, walking towards him and draping your arms around his shoulders, uncaring at the feeling of water pressing into the fabric of your dress, dripping between the open gap of your breasts. He’s stiff when you touch him, but soon melts, nose nuzzling into your neck and breathing deeply. He still smells like crisp apple and fresh seawater.

“Why are you here?”

“Daichi knows.”

You’ve never felt colder, warmer, like a fever and frostbite all at once. You feel him rustle against your bodies, and you let go to watch him pull the Bulgari necklace out, lifting your hand to place it in your palm. Your fingers close around the jewels automatically.

“I told him I love you.”

There are no words that come to your mind in that instant. Emotions, many. Relief, nausea, stillness and rage, love for the man in front of you. You ache to feel his warm, corded muscles against your skin. He looks pained, eyes tormented as he looks into your soul.

“How did he react?”

“Not well.”

“And?”

He gives no space for continuation, pulling you tightly against his body, arms snaking around your waist as his lips fall against your mouth. His skin is cool, wet, pressing to your heated cheeks, but his mouth is inviting. There is passion unlike what you’ve experienced before. It tastes like freedom, like a new day and endless night. It’s the smoke on the fire, and the salt of the sea. He’s crying, you realise, and you open your mouth to lick up a tear on the corner of his mouth.

The necklace slips from your fingers when you grab him, pushing the jacket of his suit from his shoulders to drop to the already wet floor. There’s a faint crunch, but neither one of you pull away to look at the crushed jewel beneath your heel. It’s just so right to kiss him. In this moment, the world falls away and it’s just the two of you. His taste fills you with a feeling that rivals being whole, satiated. Something hard pokes against your hip, and you smile into the kiss, lips moving to his jaw to suck on an earlobe.

But you freeze. Daichi is at the top of the stairs.

“I’m sorry,” Ryunoslav whispers.

You frown, his words not registering and when you pull back to ask what is happening, he ensnares another kiss from you, tears flowing freely, something hard, cold, now presses against your temple and–

.

.

.

End.

-----

Thank you for reading, truly. This fic honestly has so much of my heart and soul in it. I had so much fun writing it. I hope you’re not too mad about the ending lmao.

@dee-madwriter , @pleasantanathema​​​ , @lookslikeleese​​​ , @linestrider​​​ , @hisoknen​​​ , @mindninjax​​​ , @whats-her-quirk​​​ , @messwriting​

[arctic-comet]

Osblaineweek2021, Day 2: Prose

I love book quotes. Looking at quotes is one of my favorite ways to to inspire myself to write more fic.

Here’s a small collection of book quotes (and recs!) of where I’ve “found” June and Nick.

This post contains spoilers for the following books/series:

- Lover Mine by JR Ward

- The Wrath and The Dawn duology by Renée Ahdieh

- A Court of Thorns and Roses series by Sarah J. Maas

Lover Mine by J.R. Ward

Summary:

John Matthew has come a long way since he was found living among humans, his vampire nature unknown to himself and to those around him. After he was taken in by the Brotherhood, no one could guess what his true history was- or his true identity. Indeed, the fallen Brother Darius has returned, but with a different face and a very different destiny. As a vicious personal vendetta takes John into the heart of the war, he will need to call up on both who he is now and who he once was in order to face off against evil incarnate. Xhex, a symphath assassin, has long steeled herself against the attraction between her and John Matthew. Having already lost one lover to madness, she will not allow the male of worth to fall prey to the darkness of her twisted life. When fate intervenes, however, the two discover that love, like destiny, is inevitable between soul mates.

It's basically a paranormal love story between two warriors. He's really young (although he's actually a reincarnation of a very old vampire warrior, but he doesn't know that), and she's like 300 years older than him. In this book, she's been raped and abused by a guy who also used to bully him. She escapes, but he saves her life. She's hungry for revenge and wants to die after achieving that goal, but of course eventually changes her mind. In the end he actually serves her rapist to her on a silver platter so that she can kill him (sound like anyone we know?). He literally holds the guy down while she kills him.

They're my ultimate favorite ship in this series, and IMO their relationship eventually develops into one of the strongest ones. This series is a bit of a hit-or-miss for most people, because the language and the writing style are pretty ridiculous in all seriousness. If you decide to read this, I recommend starting the series from the beginning because John and Xhex meet for the first time several books before this one, LOL.

Here are some of the quotes that make me think of Nick and June:

“Besides, the story of the two of them was written in the language of collision; they were ever crashing into each other and ricocheting away—only to find themselves pulled back into another impact.” ― J.R. Ward, Lover Mine

“As his ears rang and his heart broke for her, he stayed strong against the gale force she let loose. After all, there was a reason why here and hear were seperated by so little and sounded one like the other. Bearing witness to her, he heard her and was there for her because that was all you could do during a fall apart. But God, it pained him to see how she suffered.” ― J.R. Ward, Lover Mine

“...the only thing that had tethered her to the earth had been him and it was strange, but she felt welded to him on some core level now. He had seen her at her absolute worst, at her weakest and most insane, and he hadn't looked away. He hadn't judged and he hadn't been burned. It was as if in the heat of her meltdown they had melted together. This was more than emotion. It was a matter of soul.” ― J.R. Ward, Lover Mine

The Wrath and the Dawn duology by Renée Ahdieh

Summary:

One Life to One Dawn. In a land ruled by a murderous boy-king, each dawn brings heartache to a new family. Khalid, the eighteen-year-old Caliph of Khorasan, is a monster. Each night he takes a new bride only to have a silk cord wrapped around her throat come morning. When sixteen-year-old Shahrzad's dearest friend falls victim to Khalid, Shahrzad vows vengeance and volunteers to be his next bride. Shahrzad is determined not only to stay alive, but to end the caliph's reign of terror once and for all. Night after night, Shahrzad beguiles Khalid, weaving stories that enchant, ensuring her survival, though she knows each dawn could be her last. But something she never expected begins to happen: Khalid is nothing like what she'd imagined him to be. This monster is a boy with a tormented heart. Incredibly, Shahrzad finds herself falling in love. How is this possible? It's an unforgivable betrayal. Still, Shahrzad has come to understand all is not as it seems in this palace of marble and stone. She resolves to uncover whatever secrets lurk and, despite her love, be ready to take Khalid's life as retribution for the many lives he's stolen. Can their love survive this world of stories and secrets?

This is a young adult fantasy romance, and basically, Khalid is a lot like Nick. He’s made mistakes that he needs to own, but at the same time he’s forced to commit atrocities he doesn’t want to do. He hates himself and doesn’t believe himself to be worthy of love, and yet he falls in love with Shazi. He's viewed as the villain of the story by everyone aside from Shazi and a few other characters until almost the end of the 2nd book.

“I love you, a thousand times over. And I will never apologize for it.”

―Renee Ahdieh, The Wrath and the Dawn

“It’s a fitting punishment for a monster. to want something so much—to hold it in your arms — and know beyond a doubt you will never deserve it.”

― Renee Ahdieh, The Wrath and the Dawn

“When I was a boy, my mother would tell me that one of the best things in life is the knowledge that our story isn't over yet. Our story may have come to a close, but your story is still yet to be told.

Make it a story worthy of you”

― Renee Ahdieh, The Wrath and the Dawn

“In that moment of perfect balance, she understood. This peace? These worries silenced without effort? It was because they were two parts of a whole. He did not belong to her. And she did not belong to him. It was never about belonging to someone. It was about belonging together.”

― Renee Ahdieh, The Rose & the Dagger

“A boy who'd thrived in the shadows.

Now he had to live in the light.

To live . . . fiercely.

To fight for every breath.”

― Renee Ahdieh, The Rose & the Dagger

A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J. Maas

Summaries:

Book 1

Feyre's survival rests upon her ability to hunt and kill – the forest where she lives is a cold, bleak place in the long winter months. So when she spots a deer in the forest being pursued by a wolf, she cannot resist fighting it for the flesh. But to do so, she must kill the predator and killing something so precious comes at a price ... Dragged to a magical kingdom for the murder of a faerie, Feyre discovers that her captor, his face obscured by a jewelled mask, is hiding far more than his piercing green eyes would suggest. Feyre's presence at the court is closely guarded, and as she begins to learn why, her feelings for him turn from hostility to passion and the faerie lands become an even more dangerous place. Feyre must fight to break an ancient curse, or she will lose him forever.

Book 2

Feyre survived Amarantha's clutches to return to the Spring Court—but at a steep cost. Though she now has the powers of the High Fae, her heart remains human, and it can't forget the terrible deeds she performed to save Tamlin's people. Nor has Feyre forgotten her bargain with Rhysand, High Lord of the feared Night Court. As Feyre navigates its dark web of politics, passion, and dazzling power, a greater evil looms—and she might be key to stopping it. But only if she can harness her harrowing gifts, heal her fractured soul, and decide how she wishes to shape her future—and the future of a world cleaved in two. With more than a million copies sold of her beloved Throne of Glass series, Sarah J. Maas's masterful storytelling brings this second book in her seductive and action-packed series to new heights.

Fantasy romance with explicit sex scenes, and book 2 is a lot better than book 1. Our main character Feyre falls for a really boring fae guy, but also meets the hottest guy she’s ever known. The first guy of course isn't the real love interest (this is a twist this author loves to do). They all end up as prisoners, and the 2nd guy saves her life when the 1st one is totally useless. He also makes her hate him as he does it because he has to. After getting out, she tries to make her old relationship work, but it doesn’t, and guess who swoops in?

I do see some Nick in Rhysand (in addition to his role in the love triangle). They’re both traumatized and prefer to keep a lot of their feelings to themselves. I also see some of the same selflessness in both of them. Rhysand wants Feyre to choose him because she loves him, but he’s willing to accept that she may not, and doesn’t tell her that they’re pretty much destined to be together (it’s a supernatural thing, and he will suffer a lot if she decides she doesn’t want him).

“Everything I love has always had a tendency to be taken from me.”

―Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Thorns and Roses

“It took me a long while to realize that Rhysand, whether he knew it or not, had effectively kept me from shattering completely.”

― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Thorns and Roses

“Regardless of his motives or his methods, Rhysand was keeping me alive. And had done so even before I set foot Under the Mountain.”

― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Thorns and Roses

“Because," he went on, his eyes locked with mine, "I didn't want you to fight alone. Or die alone."

― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Thorns and Roses

“He thinks he'll be remembered as the villain in the story. But I forgot to tell him that the villain is usually the person who locks up the maiden and throws away the key. He was the one who let me out.”

― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

“And I wondered if love was too weak a word for what he felt, what he’d done for me. For what I felt for him.”

― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

“I was his and he was mine, and we were the beginning and middle and end. We were a song that had been sung from the very first ember of light in the world.”

― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

[claudiarya]

Hello I’ve written this short fic. based on the clip we’ve got from Shadow and Bone of Jesper and Inej performing, but with a twist!

You can read it on Ao3 as well

Silks, Guns and All the Things Fun (Not) 

Words count: 2898 

The chattering at the Crow Club was thicker than usual and it ricocheted around the lower floor of the building, bouncing off the draped walls. Kaz Brekker made his way there from where he had been dealing cards on the upper part of the club. It had been quite a profitable night, with many pigeons all too eager to let the rush of the gambling go to their head and lose everything. His cane tapped on the stairs as he descended them, an ominous and irregular melody announcing who was coming down those steps. He stopped just before the las two and scanned the room, his shark eyes checking if everything was in order. Kaz saw at least a couple of people flinching when his eyes had met theirs. Good. It seemed that his infamy was the same unblemished, or rather very blemished, story of terror as ever. He had worked all of his angles to make it that way, and he had every intention to keep it up as long as he lived, his thirst for personal revenge too strong to be sated in any other way.

Kaz threw another glance around the room until he found who he was looking for. He approached her, men and women making themselves scarce as he passed them. Inej was in the corner, intent on untangling something thick, the crimson fabric like a river of blood in her hands. Her long hair was tied up in a coil at the nape of her neck as she usually wore it, a light vest covering her shoulders and arms, and peeking from a sleeve he saw something wrapped around her forearm. She had covered her feather tattoo since she was going to remove the vest and perform in bare arms, something that had stirred not little emotions inside the hollow of his armor.  

“I trust that everything is ready,” Kaz rasped, looking down at her from where he was standing. Not surprised in the slightest, as if she had known all along who was about to speak to her, Inej kept her eyes on her task. “Good evening to you, too Kaz. How are you?” Her tone unbothered if a little bit sarcastic…

This girl. If it had been any other person speaking to him like that, they would have run away with a few broken limbs or without teeth. Or perhaps both. Kaz couldn’t understand why, but his relationship, if that could be called, with her had always felt different. Nobody treated him the way she did, he didn’t allow it, but whatever it was that propelled him to always find excuses to talk to her, be near to her when he could, he didn’t like it.

Liar. A voice in his head reprimanded him. him. You keep lying to yourself, Brekker. He blinked. Usually he would have ignored her, but that night he didn’t know what forced possessed him and he decided to indulge her.

“Yes, hello Inej darling. I’ll be better when all of this is over, and we’ve made our profit.”

When the term of endearment had left his lips, she had looked at him with a sonorous sigh. Inej raised to her feet, not really making a difference since she was so small, the red silks now draped on one shoulder, and her eyes peered straight into his. The amber, low lights of this particular floor of the club reflected into her irises, making it look like she had flames burning behind them.

Kaz thought again to himself that she had never looked more like a painted icon of those Saints she so much adored than in that moment and gripped his cane tighter to try and snap out of his reveries, to try and quiet the raging emotions inside. The ridges of the crow’s head unmistakable even under his gloved hands.

“Everything will go as planned: we’ll perform, and we’ll make sure all of these pigeons are probably plucked. Don’t worry.” She passed him, careful to avoid touching him and went to hang the silks she had been preparing.

Kaz promised not to let his gaze follow her but failed. He saw how with a graceful movement she looped one end of the prop into the hook on the wall. Once again, he forced himself not to let his thoughts wander too much and with a slightly louder voice called after her.

“If you’re so ready, where in Ghezen’s name, is Jesper?”

“He’ll be here,” she shrugged not preoccupied at all.

“He’d better be.” He checked his time piece and looking once again at her he said: “We start in five minutes. Go get yourself prepared.”

He heard Inej exhaling loudly. Again. A habit, he realized, she had acquired in these last months. Was it perhaps because she was starting to feel a little more comfortable with this life he had given her, with his gang… with him?

Inej got closer to him, not intimidated at all to look at him straight in the eye.

“I know what I’m doing, but if I’ll be ever looking for a coach, I’ll know who to turn to. Now, excuse me.”

She brushed past him, one instant she was there and then next gone.

***

Fitting how Kaz had found the darkest part of the room to stand in during Jesper’s and Inej’s little show. The sharpshooter had turned up at the last minute, literally the last, when the audience had already gathered around the little space they had arranged specifically for the two of them, and Kaz had already excogitated a hundred different way to kill him. He had of course given a piece of his mind, seething to the gangly boy, who in returned had just shrugged, winked at him and told him that “People love big entrances, I’m making us a favor,” before scurrying to his designated seat at the center of the makeshift stage.

Kaz had come up with this idea months prior, but Inej and Jesper had actually started performing only a couple of weeks ago. He had had to use all of his most convincing arguments to let Per Haskell see how incredibly fruitful this would all be. That old man and his drunken ass…

After many requests from his lieutenant part he had conceded, and Kaz had made it look so as if the leader of the Dregs had had this brilliant idea himself, a thing that had worked out for the best since he had gone strolling around the Barrel boasting how his club was offering entertainments that no other could. A good publicity indeed, and Dirtyhands had smirked pleased with himself, his plan had worked. As always.

His breath caught in his throat when he saw Inej climbing the silks, her fluid movements made it look so easy, as if she was taking a stroll instead of keeping herself up with only her body strength.

“Ladies ang gentlemen, thugs and thieves,” started Jesper walking the perimeter of the free space and catching the attention of the people there. “Tonight you’ll see something that only few would be brave to attempt. My lovely assistant will perform one of her tricks with a card stuck between her lips,” at that the girl in question removed from thin air a card and showed it to the audience, only one part of her body now supporting her, the silks wrapped around it, as the other half hanged from them. “While I will attempt to shoot at it.”

Many gasps could be heard around the room as well as excited whispers.

“Let’s begin!” Jesper said, now with a much more serious tone.

Kaz had to admit it, even if at times Jesper was a total buffoon he knew how to mesmerize an audience, and he had them in the palm of his hands.

The sharpshooter took his position, and removed from the ground a little polished, silver tray. Kaz had to suppress the urge to roll his eyes as Jesper looked at his reflection winked at himself and then kissed his beloved revolver, while exhaling with (fake) preoccupation. Could this boy be more theatrical than that? The Bastard of the Barrel sighed, convinced that there was no end to his second in command’s love for the dramatics. Inej wrapped her limbs expertly in the silks and then with a fearless dive, she let herself fall so that her body was hanging upside-down.

The split second before Jesper could shoot, Kaz’s and Inej’s eye met, and the world seemed to stop for a bit.

He knew damn well that the Zemeni boy was the best shot around, he had never seen him miss. Never. On top of that, he suspected that the little secret he was keeping from everyone, but that Kaz had of course found out about, somehow helped him with his formidable aim. Yet… why in the name of his beloved kruge did he feel nervous for her?

You need to get it together and stop thinking this sentimental stuff. He scolded himself, not for the first time that night.

After a second or perhaps an eternity he moved his gaze away from hers.

Jesper shot and… the bullet struck the card exactly in the middle. The raucous cheering of the audience was what ground him completely again. Inevitably, as if a magnet drawn to the pole, he saw Inej finish her performance with a couple of flips, before landing as effortlessly and elegantly as ever, a big grin on her face. Kaz himself couldn’t help the light movement upward of the corner of his mouth, that died immediately when he noticed how the sharpshooter, now standing, turned around to return the smile, and finally joined her, taking her hand to bow.

That nagging feeling inside him was as demanding as ever. He hated it. He wanted it to stop.

The applause of the people surrounding him turned into a distant sound, as a clear thought struck him then and there. He was never going to have that easy demeanor Jesper had with her, he was never going to be able to take her hand without drowning, he could never tell her that despite all his effort he couldn’t resist the constant pull he felt whenever she was close and that made everything even worse.

Inej’s eyes managed to find his again in his dark corner, the smile she still had lightened her features, but it dropped as soon as she saw what was a very grim expression marking his face.

He wanted to yell. Tell her to keep on smiling, because he felt very much alive whenever she did, like none other things could, but instead he just gripped his cane tighter, and forced himself to look around the room.

When Jesper and Inej approached him after the audience had dispersed a bit, he was still waging his inner war.

“Wasn’t our Wraith amazing?” Jesper asked excitedly, an arm slung around the shorter girl’s shoulders, before adding “Wasn’t I amazing?”

“You just did what you had to. No more no less. And besides, many of these people had already seen this particular performance, so I wouldn’t let all those adoring people get to your head.” He rasped before leaving them standing.

As he made his way to return to the upper level of the Club, he heard the sharpshooter sighing loudly. “You can never win with him, can you?”

“No one can,” was Inej’s curt answer.

He knew her eyes were following him; he could feel it and he never detested more the vindictive and cold creature he had become than now.

***

The Crow Club at that hour of the night, or rather early morning, was deserted. Kaz had ordered the others to go back to the Slat as he stayed behind to make sure everything was in order before close-up. He once again descended the stairs that would bring him to the lower floor, the silks and the other props gone and already been stashed away. As he scanned the room though, he noticed something on the ground, near where the silks were usually hanged. In the dim light he could see it was a piece of dark cloth, and as he got closer, he noticed that it wasn’t just any piece of cloth, but the one Inej had wrapped around her forearm to cover her tattoo. He crouched down, with no little protest from his bad leg, and took it in one gloved hand, the gesture almost reverent.

If someone were to enter the room now, they would have found Kaz Brekker, Bastard of the Barrel, Dirtyhands himself, on his knees cradling a strip of cloth in his hands. He shook his head in disbelief and made to stand up, when CRASH!

Something had fallen and in his fear of having been discovered, Kaz quickly tucked the wrap in his suit pocket as he made leverage on his cane to stand. He saw that what had startled him had been a stool, now on the ground. He passed a hand through his hair in exasperation. He really needed to get a grip.

In the days following Kaz didn’t realize that out of nowhere he would put his hand in his pocket and rub the little piece of fabric between his fingers, a thing that oddly enough always managed to calm him. He didn’t realize it, until he did. It had been a late night in which he had been working for the Dregs and his pathetic excuse of a leader, now scheming, now scribbling and adding numbers. The little thing had been placed on his shambled desk, a trusted companion of his. He had meant to return it, if not to Inej directly, to at least casually leave it where he had found it, but in the end he hadn’t. That night he had sent his Wraith out to gather information regarding a certain mercher’s rich art collection, and he hadn’t almost heard her, almost, entering his attic room from the window. Kaz hadn’t known how he had been able to stash her piece of fabric away before she could see him gently passing it between his fingers.

He only imagined the conversation they would have had if he had taken a second too long to hide it.

You know Inej, I casually found it on the ground but instead of leaving it there I’m keeping your arm wrapping as a stress-relieving token. But it’s not like it may look. I’m not obsessed with you or anything.

Could he be more pathetic than that? Since when had he gone this soft? Oh yes, he knew, ever since he had paid her indenture and she had joined the Dregs, that was when. To make things worse that night had ended with Inej casually sitting on his window seat: her head resting on the wall, her eyes closed. Indefinite and unnamed emotions had stirred once again inside of him, as a very precise, but not really polite word echoed in his head… he was so screwed.

From that moment on he had debated whether to just give it to her and telling her that he had found it but that it had just slipped his mind until then, or continuing keeping the damn thing. A constant battle in his mind that complemented the one inside his heart.

He kept it.

If Kaz was never going to have Inej, as he wished he could, he at least could have a part, no matter how small and insignificant, of her.

That day, his feet carried him on their own accord outside her door, a floor exactly below his room. They had encountered some troubles with some too cocky members of the Black Tips and the whole ordeal had left them all pretty shaken – except Kaz of course – and with two dead members of his crew. Kaz didn’t know why he was standing here, on the other side of her closed door. She might not even be here, he had thought trying to find excuses to turn back from where he had come.

But he knew. He somehow sensed that she was inside her little room.

What exactly was he thinking, what was he doing here as a gaping fish out her door? Did he want to make sure she was okay? See if she needed anything?

Oh yes, because you’ve been nothing but an example of emotional support, Brekker.

When he was about to turn and go back to the attic, cursing himself for his stupidity, the door in front of him opened. Inej stood there, and for once her hair was not tied back but loose on her shoulders, cascading in delicate waves around her frames, the result of having kept it tight in a braid.

“Is anything wrong, Kaz? Why are you standing outside my door as if you’d seen a Saint?” she had asked.

I think I wanted to see you, I’m not sure why and I’m going insane. He thought, but of course didn’t say, too cowardly and bitter to do so. Instead, Kaz quickly put his hand in his pocket, and found what he knew would be there. Gripping her piece of fabric, he managed to answer with his usual lack of emotions.

“Go find Jesper. I found us a job. What would you say to one million kruge?”

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Shadow & Smoke***

Pablo Schreiber x Reader x Lewis Tan

Warning: Cursing, NSFW, SMUTTTT, DO NOT READ AT WORK

Words: 5k

Summary: Eh.  🤷🏽‍♀️

Note: So this is a mixture of two firsts for me. This was inspired by the song Mr. Man by Alicia Keys. How did I do? 

I hope you guys enjoy this. Thank you so much for reading!   ❤️ 

 If you enjoyed this, please LIKE, COMMENT and REBLOG. ❤️❤️

**Loosely Edited/Proofread**

 The nights were starting to blend together. It wasn’t that you were bored, but there was a routine in place that you’d become—too accustomed to. You were the type of woman who liked routine and normalcy, but you also liked the unpredictability that life sometimes offered. Being the girlfriend of one of the most, if not the most powerful and dangerous man in the city meant that you were always on his arm.

 Pablo liked to bring you along to business deals he needed to close. You thought it was to show you off, but it was really a more tactful reason than that. He did it to sift out who had the potential to be disloyal. His logic was if any of them dared to ogle you while he was there, then they’d have the balls to fuck him over in business.

“There’s a thin line between loyalty and disloyalty, and usually the deciding factor in it all came down to a pretty face.”

 If he wasn’t bringing you to handle business, you were being whisked to surprise shopping trips, extravagant trips, delectable eateries that charged a ridiculous amount of money for their dishes. Usually, every night, you were on his arm at one of his clubs as he showed his face and ate up all the adoration and respect one in his high position brought.

 You’d met him as a liquor sales rep almost four years ago. You walked into one of his clubs with the intent to convince him to purchase some of the alcohol you were peddling. From almost the minute he sat down, you were attracted to him. Who wouldn’t be? The man was almost seven feet tall, built like no one’s business, had haunting hazel eyes, and such a hypnotizing aura around him. He spoke, you listened, he smiled you gawked, he licked his lips, you shifted in your seat.

 By the time you got up to leave the club, he’d bought you out of everything, easily meeting and exceeding your quota for the month. His reason was he had to have you free for him because he hated competition of any sort. That was when you got the first glimpse of the man he was—a force to be reckoned with. An hour after you left, he’d already called you and scheduled himself for dinner that night. One dinner led to lunch the next day, then dinner that night, and a whirlwind weekend trip to France where you found out just how much of a force to be reckoned with he was.

 Flash forward four years later, and your role in his life had only increased, and your understanding of his role in the city among the mayor, governor, senator, and other heavy hitters had fully sunk in. Pablo “Shadow” Schreiber was at the top of the food chain. Everyone was either terrified of him or wanted to be with him.

 “You look incredible tonight, sweetheart.”

 Glancing to your left, you found Pablo’s eyes. Within them, there was a hint of mischief as well as a whole lot of desire. You leaned close to his face leaving barely an inch.

 “You’re welcome to look, daddy,” you replied a little above a whisper.

 At the mention of that word, Pablo’s teeth sunk into his bottom lip as his eyes dropped to yours. Deciding to tease him, you trailed your tongue over your bottom lip, knowing that the long-wear lipstick you wore would stay in place. Pablo’s groan sounded closer to a growl, and with the sound, the heat in his eyes intensified.

 “Be careful, sweetheart.”

 “Boss.”

 Like clockwork, one of his henchmen interrupted. It was always a thing. The two of you would create this bubble of teasing and desire only to have it be popped by someone who needed something from him. You were attention-starved.

 Pablo looked from you and to Leo, his third. When Leo got his attention, he leaned down to whisper business. Rolling your eyes, you looked away and around the club. That was when you saw him. he was across the club leaning against the bar. In one hand, he held a drink and clasped between his pointer and middle finger was something rolled and lit. You couldn’t tell if it was a cigarette, a blunt, or something else.  Something said it was your second guess.

 You watched him raise the crystal glass to his lips. The smoke danced around his face creating an element of mystery that completely intrigued you.  From what you could see, he was checking out the club and the women inside. His eyes danced from one to the other, never resting long. Either none of them was what he liked, or he was searching for something—someone specific.

 When he brought the rolled substance to his lips, you watched as he took a long puff. Before he released it, his eyes moved to your area of the club. Clutching your drink glass, you watched him, unsure if he were looking at you. The stranger turned his body in your direction and slowly blew out the smoke. If he was mysterious before, he was now ten times so. Slowly the smoke cleared, and it was then you got a good look at his face. He was gorgeous.

 It had been a while since a face was able to stop you in your tracks. None had since Pablo’s. You lifted your glass to your lips and slowly drank down the Whiskey. The ice cubes in your glass gently bounced against your lip, giving you a slight chill as the heat of the alcohol deliciously burned you. As the liquid slinked down your throat, your eyes remained locked with the stranger at the bar.

 Time seemed to stop. The air became thick, so thick it was almost difficult for you to get a full breath. When you saw his tongue snake out to wet his lips, your eyes dropped to his mouth. A small smirk spread across his lips, and you could feel the smug coming off of him.

 Almost unconsciously, your tongue peaked out of your mouth and slowly traced the path around the rim of your glass. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip. Dipping your tongue into the glass, you used it to scoop up an ice cube to suck on. Gone was that small smirk. It was now a full-on grin. He was sexy, and though you knew you shouldn't be doing this, especially with Pablo right beside you, you couldn’t help it. He’d left you wanting for too long.

 Once the ice cube had melted, you looked away. His eyes were too hypnotizing, and the longer you looked into them, the more you wanted to risk Pablo’s wrath. Pablo gently rubbed your exposed thigh before he got up and walked off with Leo and Laith. You’d learned early that he was always busy, and his free time was not as plentiful as one would think a boss’s would be. You’d also learned that everything in his life took balance. You must have gotten spoiled when you were his top priority for the first two years.

 He went above and beyond, ensuring that you knew your value to him. He went to great lengths to make sure you felt special, loved, and prized above all else. He did this with small, romantic gestures as well as grand displays and deeply satisfying intimate moments. By year three, he’d incorporated more and more work, more and more business trips. Every month he was on a plane. Depending on the reason for the trip, you’d be right beside him on the private jet, but four out of ten times, you were left under the watchful eye of Levi, his brother.

 Pablo looked back at you as he walked off. The look spoke volumes, and it was loud. Rolling your eyes, you grabbed the glass he left behind and finished it. The music in the club and the patrons were your only entertainment for a while. When you looked back to the bar, the stranger was gone. You were left with an annoyed feeling that mixed with your slight arousal. You made a note to give Pablo an earful once you got home. If he was hell-bent on keeping you around, he’d better start acting like it.

 After twenty or so minutes, you’d had six fingers of Whiskey, and you were feeling better than a little nice. You were still alone at your table under the watchful eye of two of Pablo’s henchmen. Every so often, when a song came on that you liked, you got up and made your way to the VIP dancefloor. This was where the girls of the men Pablo employed hung out. You never mixed with them. You always got the feeling they either didn’t like you, or they wanted to be you--literally. Whatever it was, it always made you uncomfortable.

 “It’s both.”

 You looked back and found Danika, Levi’s long time girlfriend. The figure-hugging white dress she wore clung to her like a second skin. It matched perfectly with her ankle strap silver heels. She winded her hips to the music and smiled widely.

 “When did you get here?”

 “Maybe five minutes ago. Levi couldn’t allow me one night of quiet,” she informed.

 You closed the space to her. The two of you kissed cheeks like bougie wives did, only it wasn’t fake with the two of you. she and Levi had gotten together about the same time you and Pablo got together, and both of you found solace in each other because you both could relate to what the other was going through. When you were left alone because of Pablo’s trips, more times than not, she would be too because Levi would go as well.

 “They don’t like you, and they want to be you. it’s the same with me.”

 The two of you glanced at the group of girls huddled to your right and simultaneously rolled your eyes.

 “They think if we weren’t in the picture that Levi and Pablo would fuck them,” Danika voiced louder then necessary. She was putting them on notice.

 “Not knowing that even if we weren’t in the picture, they’d never look twice at them. There’s filet mignon, and there’s Kobe beef. Why chew on filet mignon when Kobe melts in your mouth?”

 The girls were trying not to look at you, but you knew they heard her. Danika had no chill and always spoke her mind. Pablo always thought that when you were together that you wouldn’t get into too much trouble. Little did he know Danika was not the angel she pretended to be. She’d gotten you into your fair share of trouble—trouble he knew about and trouble he didn’t.

 The two of you danced together when the song changed and played off each other. In no time, it was as if no one else in the club mattered. While you were wrapped up in the song and the buzz you were feeling from the Whiskey, you saw him again from the corner of your eye. This time he was in a shaded part of the club that was cloaked in dark color. The hues of red and purple decorated his skin but illuminated it enough for you to make out some of the detail. He was incredibly handsome.

 Before you knew it, you were dancing with Danika while eye fucking the man. You didn’t know what the hell had come over you. Never in the four years had you behaved like this with anyone else but Pablo. He was the only one who could bring out this wanton side of you—or so you thought. When Danika shrieked out with the change of the song, you looked away from him. You began to wonder if you should make a move.

 Glancing around the club, you clocked each of Pablo’s henchmen. His brother, Levi, his number two, was sitting watching Danika, who was now undressing him with her eyes. You knew any minute she’d go over, and they’d be practically fucking in the club. Danika pulled you close to her and whispered.

 “You have an audience.”

 Glancing at her, she coyly nodded her head over to the stranger. You tried not to smile, but it was useless.

 “Ah, you’ve noticed. He’s cute.”

 “D, stop.”

 “Why? It’s true.”

 You giggled and rolled your eyes but took a quick peek in his direction again. His eyes hadn’t left you.

 “I can distract Levi if you want to--.” She winked.

 “D! Stop it! That’s insane.”

 “Why? You’re not dead. Plus, what Shadow doesn’t know--,” she trailed.

 This was the kind of trouble Danika was good for. She was like the devil on your shoulder. You knew she’d fooled around on Levi and had heard stories of the fooling around Levi occasionally did when he felt that itch. Neither were stupid, but both were crazy, so they kept their misdealings on the low. You, on the other hand, had never fooled around behind Pablo’s back. You never had a reason to.

 As your eyes met the gorgeous stranger’s again, you bit your bottom lip. Until now, you thought. You caught the eye of Pablo walking back to the table. Leo was still beside him, yapping away, but he also had two other men surrounding him. he was still talking shop. Annoyance flared through you with a vengeance. Danika walked to Levi and sat on his lap before her lips met his. You walked back to the table and sat. You felt his eyes on you with every step you took.

You sat beside Pablo and tried to get past the unexpected thoughts you were having. Five minutes passed, but still, the thoughts persisted. When you looked up, the stranger was again in the shadows. Fuck it, you thought before you stood and took a step.

 “Where you going, sweetheart?”

 Painting a sugary smile on you responded. “Bathroom, baby.”

 Pablo nodded, but you felt him watching you. He was a secure man, but he was a possessive one. You walked through the crowd; all the while sneaking peeks at the stranger. You turned the corner and walked down the dark corridor that led to the bathroom. You knew this club like the back of your hand.

 Once inside the bathroom, you stood in front of the mirror and focused on toying with your hair. By the time you got to twelve, the door had opened, and in walked the stranger. You locked eyes from the mirror, and you damn near buckled. He was even more beautiful than you thought. His eyes were so brown and so damn penetrative that you decided to have his face between your thighs then and there.

 As if reading your thoughts, he locked the door and, in the same breath, pushed up behind you. You could feel his hardness pressing into your ass. His hands gripped your body, one at your breast, the other at your hip. The way he held you felt possessive like he owned you. The only one to have ever held you like that was Pablo. This was a man who knew what he wanted and took it. Pablo was that caliber of a man as well. It was intoxicating.

 His lips fastened onto your neck and immediately found your spot. When you felt his teeth graze your skin, you pulled away and glared at him through the mirror. Another smirk spread across his face. In seconds he’d had you turned around so you faced him. When his lips crashed to yours, he wasted no time delving his tongue into your mouth. Almost instantly, he took control of the kiss, and almost instantly, your lacy thong was drenched.  

 As if sensing this, you felt his fingers graze your inner thigh until it connected with your sex. You gasped on his mouth, which permitted him even more access to your mouth. Fuck, you thought. You were losing control of this situation. Pulling your lips from his, you looked at him. The fire in his eyes had heat rushing through you. You watched as he slipped his fingers into his mouth and sucked your juices off. Once his fingers were clean, he moaned.

 “You’re as sweet as you look.”

 Grabbing his shirt, you pulled him to you, but instead of claiming his lips, you began pushing his head lower. He knew what you wanted. In seconds he hoisted you into his arms and began lifting you higher into the air as if you weighed an ounce. One he’d placed you on his shoulders, he used his teeth to pull your thong to the side before he began his feast.

 ��Fuck!”

 Slapping your hand across your mouth, you groaned and mumbled another curse into your palm. It was clear from the start he had no intention of going slow. The fast flicks of his tongue had your back arching, and the soft nibbles he dropped in had your free hand tangling in his hair. When you felt your back press onto the cold surface of the bathroom, you moaned again. You didn’t dare remove your hand from your mouth. You didn’t trust yourself. The stranger between your legs used both his hands and pried your thighs apart, so he was holding you against the wall spread like French doors.

 The thick pad of his tongue slowly licked you from opening to clit. When he got to your clit he sucked it into his mouth. He wasn’t gentle, and the increase in suction had you feeling the first stirs of your orgasm.

 “Yes, yes, right there. Fuck! Oh my god!”

 Feeling a scream coming, you plastered both your hands across your mouth to lessen the volume. He dipped his tongue into your core, and you lost your shit right then and there. When you began shaking, he didn’t slow down. He picked up the pace. You couldn’t believe someone could fuck a pussy with their tongue so quickly. After every three or four dips, he sucked your clit into his mouth as if he was a hoover vacuum.

 Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, and you knew you were seconds from coming. Without warning, you gripped his head and hugged it to your sex as you came. He moaned and slurped your flesh, accepting every drop you gave.

 “Shit, shit, Shiiiit!”

 If anyone busted the door down, you would have the hardest time explaining this away. There would be no way. Slowly his lips and tongue slowed their devil work, allowing you to come down. As if to keep you on your toes, he nibbled your clit every so often. The action always had you gasping, gripping his hair tighter and arching back every so slightly to finish with a satisfied moan.

 When he pulled his face back, his jaw was drenched, and there was a glistening layer of your juices outlining his mouth.

 “A man could get drunk off this sweet pussy, sugar lips.”

 Jesus Christ, you thought as new wetness with fresh arousal washed through you. His eyes dipped between your legs, and a grin spread across his face.

 “Wet for me again already?”

 Your gear watched vibrated, indicating you’d gotten a message. Glancing at it, you saw Danika’s message.

 MSG D: You have twenty seconds to get back, or your cover is kaput.

 “Fuck,” you groaned under your breath as you began wriggling in his arms.

 He lowered you to the floor then stepped back, giving you a little space. You fixed yourself as best you could and tried to ignore the wetness between your legs.

 “I take it reciprocity is dead.”

 You looked at him and dropped your eyes to see him holding his crotch. He was mouthwateringly hard. Part of you wanted to see what he was concealing behind those pants, but if you were caught, you knew Pablo would beat him to a pulp or worse.

 “Unfortunately, there’s no time. Thank you though, I really needed that.”

 You walked to the door, and as you passed him, you gently tapped his cheek.

 “Glad I could be of service.”

 You quickly rushed out the bathroom, and down the corridor, you’d walked down back to the main hall of the club. As you rounded the corner, you met three of Pablo’s men.

 “Everything okay?”

 “Perfect,” you answered with a smile before you pushed past them to make your way back over to Pablo, relishing in the decrease of tension in your body. It had been too long, indeed.

 The rest of the night progressed as it usually did. Pablo finished up the business thirty or so minutes before you left. The beautiful stranger with the skillful mouth was nowhere to be found. The two of you then made your way home. While in the car, Pablo’s hand found the space between your thighs.

 “I’m sorry about tonight.”

 “You know if work is the only important thing to you, then maybe we need to have a conversation about where that leaves us.”

 His grip tightened, making you flinch.

 “Y/N, come on,” Pablo began.

 “You haven't touched me in almost two months. If you’re not fucking me, who are you fucking?”

 Your words were laced with hidden poison. He knew it. Instead of speaking again, you both remained silent.

 When the car pulled up to your half a block townhouse, you walked ahead of him as he got updates from his men posted around the property. You were still pretty relaxed from your bathroom tryst, but you were angry with him as well. Once you made it to your shared bedroom, you stripped and got into the shower.

 A little less than halfway through, you felt Pablo’s hands around your midsection. Ignoring him, you continued soaping your body and paid no mind to his growing appendage that was pressing into your back. When you were out of heels, he towered over you like a giant. He kissed your neck and down to your shoulder then brought his lips back to your neck. He knew what he was doing, and he knew you knew as well.

 Pablo’s hand crept down your stomach to where your thighs met.

 “Pablo--,” you warned.

 “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I know I’ve been neglecting you. I’m sorry.”

Slowly his finger circled your clit, and it didn’t take long for your desire for him to unfurl.

 “Let me make it up to you,” Pablo whispered before he turned you to him. he kissed you with heat, passion, and intensity, all of which you felt tonight in that bathroom. In seconds Pablo had lifted you into his arms to his height and lowered you onto his throbbing cock.

 Both of you sighed, but the moment of savoring was short. Pablo took control of your body, moving you along his length with expert strength. People didn’t fear him for no reason. He was a beast of a man in stature and disposition. What started as slow deep strokes turned to frenzied shallow thrusts. You knew then this was not going to be a tender reacquaintance of your bodies. It was going to be the opposite.

 Pablo pressed you against the tile of the shower and dipped his tongue into your mouth to entangle with yours. His kiss commanded your surrender. You knew when you gave in, you wouldn’t be disappointed, so you did. Pablo groaned once he felt your surrender. It was then he sunk into your heat to the hilt. The scream you let out was loud, and it only fueled him further.

 Pablo pounded into you. Each time your bodies connected, the force of his stroke had your body bouncing up only to drop back onto his searing cock.

 “Fuuuuuck, daddy!”

 A growl escaped him before he turned and walked out of the shower to bring you back to your bed. When he dropped you onto the sheets, he flipped you onto your stomach and slammed back into you.

 “Aaaah!”

 “Mmm. Daddy missed you, sweetheart!”

 His voice was tender, but the way he pummeled your pussy spoke of something else. He was on a mission.

 “Don’t ever say that shit to me again. do you understand?”

 No words. Not liking it, he grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you back so your back had the perfect inward arch.

 “I can’t hear you, sweetheart. Do you—understand?”

 You vigorously nodded. He was so deep you couldn’t muster any words.

 “Words, Y/N.”

 “Yes, daddy. Yes!”

 “Good girl.”

 As if this was a reward for your compliance, he rotated his hips, so you felt every inch of his desire as it marked every crevice inside of you. You doubted anyone had ever made you feel this good.

 Your moans, pants, and groans melded together. The sounds filled your room, and you knew anyone outside could hear you. It turned Pablo on even more to know that everyone could hear how good he was fucking you. You didn’t care who knew how good he made you feel. When he began jackhammering into you, you saw stars and clenched around him as your orgasm violently ripped through you.

 “Fuck me!”

 On command, he did just that to the point where you became hoarse, and you didn’t know what day it was. When you couldn’t take another orgasm, you dropped to the bed, but Pablo kept plowing into you. His stoked became sloppy, and you knew he was close. When he came, he grunted loudly, nearly terrifying you with the loudness of it. He thrust forward as if he were trying to rip you apart. The feel of his love inside of your canal nudged you over the edge to your final release. Pablo dropped kisses along your back before he rolled off of you to lie on his back. That was how the two of you fell asleep. Both too exhausted to even cover yourselves.

 The next day when you woke up, your body hummed with satisfaction. After checking your messages and emails, you took a quick shower and wrapped in one of your robes, then made your way down to breakfast. You were starving. It was a regular sight to see several of Pablo’s men through the house; you never batted an eye to it. Often times, they spoke and nodded their heads in respect as you passed, and you always reciprocated that politeness. There was no need to be a bitch.

 When you made it to the dining room, you saw Pablo already sitting there.  When he saw you, he smiled softly. You walked over to him and bent, placing a sweet kiss on his lips. When you began to back away, he dropped his hand to your ass and held you there to deepen the kiss. You both moaned quickly, getting lost in each other. All was forgiven.

 “Good morning, sweetheart.”

 “Good morning, baby.” Pablo kissed you once more, and as you were moving to the seat beside him, he pulled you to the space in front of him on the table. Your ass had the china clattering loudly.

 “What’re you doing?”

 “I’m hungry.”

 That was all he said before he pushed you back onto the table and spread your thighs.

 “Pablo--,” you began before the rest of your sentence fluttered away once his lips connected with your sex.

 A soft moan escaped you, and any protest faded. You rested on your elbows and enjoyed the feel of him between your thighs.

 “Mmmm, yes, baby. Fuck, that feels so good.”

 Pablo knew just what to do to set you on fire and what to do to tease you. he was in the mood to tease you. After a few minutes of teasing, you wanted more and had no problem letting him know. You gripped his head, held his hair, and began rocking your sex across his mouth. Pablo moaned and allowed you to use his face to your delight. Every few swipes, he slurped your flesh, sending shivers through your body and bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm.

 “Mmm, yes, daddy, right there.” You looked at him, and your eyes met. The man was temptation. His hand crept up to grip your breast as he forcefully sucked your clit into his mouth.

 The action had you remembering the bathroom at the club.

 “Mmm, shit, baby. You’re gonna make me come.”

 You bucked across his mouth and closed your eyes to fully enjoy the pleasure he was giving you. In a matter of seconds, Pablo’s intent shifted from teasing, and seconds later, you were coming. He moaned and lapped up every drop.

 “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

 “Wow, when you said to come over for breakfast, I thought you meant pancakes and eggs, not sugar and spice.”

 Your eyes flew open at the new voice. From upside down, you couldn’t believe your eyes. You closed them and opened again, but the sight was the same.

 “Around here, sugar and spice is the only thing ever on the menu,” Pablo replied.

 He kissed your inner thigh then tapped it. Snapping out of your frozen state, you sat up, fixed yourself, and chanced a look back. As sure as the sun was shining, the stranger from last night was standing at the other end of the table with a satisfied grin on his face.

 “You took your time getting over here,” Pablo said as he walked over to him.

 You watched the two men embrace as manly men did. The whole time you stood there, stunned and speechless. Your boyfriend was chatting up and laughing with the man you’d allowed to bury his face between your thighs.

 “Come here, sweetheart.”

 On shaky legs, you walked to the two men, all the while gripping the collar of your robe.

 “Y/N, meet my best friend, the one man I trust with everything next to Levi,” Pablo informed. With every word, your eyes widened.

 The stranger held his hand out to you with a smile. “Lewis,” he said.

 Fighting the shock, you took his hand and shook it. “Although the pleasure is all yours, I’m glad to finally meet you,” Lewis teased. You knew his words had a double meaning. Instead of speaking of it being nice to meet him too, the only thing in your head was the repetitive thought. 

You’re fucked.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lee’s Note: Hopefully this was good, I’m still trying to find my groove again. How was this intro to Lewis and Pablo?  😬

[miss-nov]

Over-Emotional: Danny Phantom Oneshot.

Original idea by @amabsis on their post right here!!

[Originally written on a reblog of the prompt but it went all screwy and left an incomplete version so I made it it's own post and I've made a few grammar and spelling edits. Sorry for any confusion!!]

(This is the first thing I've ever written for the DP Phandom so I apologize if it's a little OOC)

⚠️(TW: DESCRIPTIONS OF A PANIC ATTACK AND GORE!!!!!)⚠️

  Danny drifted through the skies of Amity Park, following the streets which were slick with recent rain. The stars twinkled merrily above and the beams from the street lights seemed to buzz through the comforting, crisp air. Not a sound disrupted the mellow atmosphere and ghosts had appeared to leave tonight alone and retired to their lairs. A soothing night such as this would have been Danny's favorite; it would have been a much needed break from his overly stressful life.

  Yet Danny couldn't shake off the creeping apprehension even as he twisted in and out of alleyways back into the lit roads.

  His parents had been working tirelessly  on a project that they wouldn't tell him and Jazz about. Jack, their father, would always jump at the chance to describe what he was doing and couldn't keep his antics quiet for long. Maddie's, their mother, eyes would have brightened as she recounted the innovate idea she had conjured and the necessary calculations she could toy around with. These facts coupled with Jazz and Danny casually inquiring about their latest project would make them incredibly ecstatic.

  But whenever the two had asked about it, put off by the unusual quiet of the parents, had only been given an amused smile and an occasional wink.

  Tonight, before Danny's patrol and during dinner, Jazz had managed to weasel some information out of them. Though, it left more questions than answers.

  "So, you guys have been in the lab a lot recently," Jazz said conversationally. "Working on some new ghost stuff? It seems important if you're spending most of the day down there."

  Maddie had given her a deliberate look like someone who'd finally decided to take a second cookie.

  "It's our greatest invention yet," she said lowly and excitedly. "I think your dad and I have found the solution to our little ghost problem."

  The siblings gulped and tried to suppress their shudders.

  "It's not going to hurt them is it? Phantom and the other ghosts." Jazz's voice was even and didn't show a hint of a tone shift.

  "Surprisingly, no. No harm will be dealt to them. It's not like they can feel anyway. That's exactly the problem," Jack chimed excitedly before going back to his ectoplasm contaminated lasagna.

  "Besides, we wouldn't want to hurt the object of our daughter's affection.  We all know about your crush on Phantom," Maddie teased but then added with a small frown. "Though it's not healthy to have a crush on ghosts at all."

 Jazz gave an aggressive gagging noise and Danny was torn between hysterical laughter and a gag of his own. Dinner resumed as normal —well, as normal as you could get being a Fenton— and Danny took note of the fact his parents had refused to say anymore.

  Danny was busy going over and dissecting the conversation and lax in his attention to his surroundings by the inactivity that he didn't notice the two shadow-cloaked figures tailing him. The taller one with a broader build was holding an intimidating gun, that looked like it was straight out of an eighties sci-fi movie, on his back.

  Maybe I should head back, Danny thought to himself. I have so much homework due and a test tomorrow. A pop quiz in calculus and a lab in science. I have to meet Nathan at my study hall period and at lunch. Liz needs my help…

  On and on the list went as Danny subtlety started flying home. Just thinking of things that needed done was making him more anxious and tired.

  "Phantom, we'll have you now," Jack cried, his voice echoing in the hollow streets.

  Danny turned around, slightly aggravated when he was struck by a violet beam and plummeted, crashing to the sidewalk.

  "Jack! I told you to wait," Maddie chastised as they walked over to Danny who had barely sat up.

  His head swam and Maddie and Jack looked like the reflections of a carnival fun house mirror. Though his vision corrected itself quickly.

  "I think you might have given him a concussion. But that doesn't make sense, ghosts don't have brains," Maddie said, slightly confused. She reached out to gingerly place her fingertips on Danny's temple and he flinched.

  "Don't touch me!!" Danny had yelled louder then he meant to and his voice came out with an extra echo; like he had been about to use his ghostly wail. The three stilled before Danny began crawling backwards, keeping his eyes on Jack and Maddie at all times.

  "I don't wanna hurt you," Danny whimpered and tears sprang to eyes like a line of men ready to battle. Why the hell was he crying!? He didn't cry easy, at least not of late, and he'd been in these situations and worse without crying so why was he breaking down now??

  Maddie looked at him with wide eyes and her hand, which had still been suspended in shock, dropped to her belt and Danny panicked.

  "Don't hurt me!" Danny tried to pick himself up to fly, to get the hell out of dodge but when he went to stand his vision and black an —god why were his veins burning with adrenaline???

  Danny's chest was caving, that was the only explanation as his ribs seized and threatened to crush his lungs. His heart had left its place and sprinted from the back of his throat down to right beneath his collarbone before starting all over again. Has his hands always been this sweaty??? Tremors wracked through his limbs —he couldn't deal with this now!! He needed to finish his Hamlet essay, and review his history notes, and hadn't Liz asked him to buy popsicle sticks for their art project??? That's what he had forgotten!! He can't think of this now!! Maddie and Jack could easily catch him now —but oh, God was he screwed when —if— when he went to school the next day.

  "Phantom, you're having a panic attack," Maddie said calmly.

  "No, shit there, Sherlock." Danny bit his bottom lip to prevent another scathing comment from escaping. Usually he had better control of his mouth believe it or not. He put his head between his knees, closing his eyes and trying to focus on, well, nothing. He felt tears slip from his eyes and barely stopped himself from screaming.

  "You know what a panic attack is?" Jack titled his head as he scanned over his shaking form.

  "Jack did you put the settings up too high while we were following him?"

  "Of course not! I was very careful not to bounce anything out of place. You've Done the math, four times, it should be perfectly calibrated." Jack twisted the purple and silver metallic gun in his hands, giving it a thorough look over.

  "What the fuck are you two talking about!!" The scientists' head whipped back to see Danny's eyes glowing a tad brighter than before and his mouth transfixed into a snarl. Maddie slid a careful hand to her holster.

  "Our newest invention. Ghosts, well most of them, are just whispers of feelings that people once had. They can't actually feel and so they do bad things or... or they mimic human behaviors really well to make it seem like they do, like they're human." Maddie's voice trailed off at the end as if seeing if he would explode.

  Danny felt that normally he would have but he started to hyperventilate. How was he going to reverse it??? Was there even a way to do so or did they not include a reverse button by mistake (on purpose?) like they had mistakenly put the 'on' button inside the portal??

  "We're going to take you to the lab. Check your... concussion and to stabilize your mood. Run a few tests..."

Ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodoh—

   They would strap him down and cut and lay his chest open like a butterfly steak and their hungry eyes would roam over him and their hands would devour him by pulling at his nerve endings and removing his organs and Danny would scream until his voice was hoarse and then some like a helpless lamb. Would he bleed blood or ectoplasm when they drained him? Would they take turns as he bleed out?? Or would they flow out together like some sort of demented, holiday dinner?? Or—

  "Phantom! You need to calm down." Maddie was at his side (when had she gotten there?) and was squeezing his hand. Danny briefly noted her eyes were filled with worry as her goggles hung at her neck. "Just breathe with me okay, please."

  "Breathe with her, buddy" Jack, who sat on the other side of Danny, whispered as he gently rubbed circles on the boy's lower back. "It's gonna be okay. We aren't going to hurt you."

  Danny wanted to say a smart aleck remark about them not having the same sentiment five minutes ago but instead focused on his breathing. He faced his head skyward and tried to count the stars. Nothing but him and the stars, no home— just the stars.

  Danny was reminded of the time he went stargazing with the rest of his family. A rare occasion as Maddie and Jack seemed to always be working. They had smiled so big at him as he pointed out constellations, awestruck. Jazz had nodded along as she listened attentively with a smile of her own. The night hadn't been more clear in months and more stars then usually were out. The picnic blanket they laid on was soft and him and Jazz had rested in between their parents and God they had been so happy then—

  Danny let out an involuntary sob. The melancholy seemed to come from the depths of his chest but at least it seemed to push out the panic.

  "Phantom," Maddie asked as she huddled closer to him. Phantom, not Danny. It hadn't really bothered him before; they didn't know it was him so why would they call him by his name?

  But it still made him cry harder. He wanted to tell them. He wanted to so, so bad.

  Jazz had urged him to tell them. But Danny had always been afraid. Scared that they wouldn't want him anymore.

  Now the sadness had overwhelmed the fear and the panic. He felt so isolated even when his parents were next to him, right there, trying to coax him into being calm. He had to tell them. He had to do it now because he wouldn't be this impulsive again.

  He felt the white rings gloss over him and heard Jack yell out "Phantom". When it was over he heard them gasp.

  "D-Danny," Maddie choked out.

   "I'm so sorry," Danny said through his tears. He chanted it over and over again as his parents reassured him that he had nothing to be sorry for and that they should apologize.

  The three sat there for quite some time, huddled close and crying together.

  Soon they would head home and take care of Danny's quickly healing concussion and reverse the effects of the gun. They would ask questions tomorrow after school but, for now, they tucked him into bed, something they hadn't done since he was eleven, and gave him their good night kisses on his temple before creeping to their room unaware of Jazz watching them from her bedroom door. She would text Sam and Tucker an explanation and ask them to give Danny the answers to the homework in the morning. She slipped into bed and fell asleep.

  The streets were barely slick with rain anymore. The stars twinkled merrily and the street lights buzzed. The crisp, cool air was calm and mellow. The night soothing and the Fentons were a family once again.

[hopelesshawks]

Physical Fatality Part 3- A Night to Remember

18+ Hawks x fem, pro hero!reader

Summary: You’re a rising star in All Might’s agency. Hawks is the darling of Endeavor’s. By virtue of your job descriptions, the two of you are supposed to hate each other, or at the very least be cautiously neutral. For a long time that’s exactly what the two of you did. You stayed out of each other’s way and formed little opinion of the other. One fateful night at an HPSC gala changes all that. Based on the album Hopeless Fountain Kingdom by Halsey.

If you don’t want to see Physical Fatality content blacklist #hopelesspf

This story will have multiple NSFW parts so it is 18+ ONLY minors dni

Warnings for graphic descriptions of unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex (receiving), creampie, and minor dom/sub themes

Masterlist

Let no one say Bakugo doesn’t make good on his promises.

You wore a black gown that hugged your figure perfectly and a matching black mask. The dress had been designed specifically with you in mind with silver detailing spiraling throughout. The designer had said she chose it because of the way silver would wind up and branch out along your arms when you used your quirk. “I’m not sure how else to incorporate telekinesis in a dress so I hope this is enough,” the small owl-eyed woman had fretted. “It’s perfect,” you had assured her, and now, as you stepped onto the red carpet with Bakugo on one arm and Midoriya the other, you were proving your assertion correct. The press had, of course, immediately picked up on the lack of an engagement ring on your hand and the lack of a fiancé on your arm but you ignored any and all questions about your engagement as you otherwise charmed the press. Then the minute you all were safely inside the hotel the event was hosted at, you and Bakugo had exchanged mischievous looks before making a beeline to the bar. It had taken Midoriya at least twenty minutes to coax you both from the hotel bar to the main banquet hall and by then you already had a pretty good buzz going. That of course didn’t stop your quest to get blitzed on the agency’s credit, however, as the two of you simply switched from the cocktails downstairs to drinking the complimentary champagne like it was water.

“Kacchan, (y/n)-Chan, please, slow down,” Midoriya fusses. “I didn’t think he’d actually fuss the whole time,” you confess to Bakugo. You’re taking the glass of champagne currently in your hand slower. As much as you’d talked about being the opposite of respectable you don’t want to tip over into sloppy territory. You and Katsuki are a little too friendly and a little too loud and that, in your opinion, is the sweet spot. “Tried to warn you. Go hang with your girlfriend Deku we’re fine,” Bakugo insists. “Are you guys fine though? You know this is technically a work event,” Midoriya chides. “If they didn’t want us to get at least a little drunk they shouldn’t have offered free champagne,” you point out. “We’ll be fine dumbass, go hang with your girl and we’ll stay here and be responsibly drunk,” Bakugo insists. Midoriya looks between the two of you multiple times before casting a look back over his shoulder where he can see Uraraka, Iida, and Yaoyorozu all talking. “We’ll even let you be the one to take us home! Promise!” you add on. Midoriya casts one last skeptical look before breaking. “Ugh, fine. But I’m serious guys! You better stay right here,” Midoriya finally relents. You and Bakugo both give him a mock salute before he finally relaxes and goes to join Uraraka. “Hey Katsuki?” you suddenly pipe up. “What?” “I just realized something.” “What did you realize?” “I’m pretty sure since Monoma and I broke up I’m technically fucking homeless right now.” It’s not funny but the two of you crack up anyway.

“I still think this is a bad idea,” Tokoyami groans as he trails behind Hawks, who is on the lookout for Mirko. “Even Dark Shadow thinks this is a horrible plan,” he insists. “Dark shadow does not think this is a horrible plan. Don’t put words in his mouth to prove a point,” Hawks says rolling his eyes. “I’m not, look,” Tokoyami insists. Hawks sighs and turns to face his friend. As the now very familiar black form emerges from Tokoyami’s torso, Hawks is 90% sure he’s about to be proven correct. In reality it’s a very good thing Hawks doesn’t gamble. Dark Shadow had promptly agreed with Tokoyami and it had only made the other man even more smug. “Whatever, I’m still going to find her,” Hawks huffs. “Why are you so insistent?” Tokoyami questions him. “She’s the love of my life! I’m sure of it!” “Oh my god you finally snapped.” “Fuck off.” “She is not the love of your life and even if she was she wants nothing to do with you now!” “You just don’t understand. I have to fight for her back.” “Would you tell her your real name?”

The last question makes Hawks stop in his tracks and whirl around back to this friend. “What are you on about now?” he asks. “If she’s the love of your life would you let her touch your wings and would you tell her your real name and if you had to choose between her and work would you choose her?” Tokoyami presses. Hawks opens his mouth but nothing comes out. He wants to say yes. He wants to stick it to his friend and tell him he would indeed let himself be vulnerable with Mirko because she’s the love of his life so there! But Keigo has always hated lying and he knows the answer is no to all of the above. So he opts instead to say “I don’t see how that’s relevant.” “I give up. When Mirko inevitably slaps you or this otherwise blows up in your face at least try not to let it happen in front of paparazzi. Endeavor is very proud we’ve been bad headline free this month,” Tokoyami sighs before turning the opposite direction and leaving Hawks to his own devices.

“One question remains (y/n),” Katsuki announces to you as you both finish your drinks. “And what would that be?” you giggle. “Who are we taking home tonight? Or I guess who am I taking home and who are you convincing to take you to their home since you’re technically homeless,” he elaborates. “We told Midoriya we’d stay here and he could escort us back home so he wouldn’t have to worry,” you reply. “You were actually going to listen?” “No I was gonna sneak off during the speeches to bang someone and then be back here in time for Midoriya to escort us home.” “Smart woman.” “Thank you.” “So who are you thinking?” he asks.

Your eyes scan the banquet hall before finally alighting on a pair of red wings. He’s wearing a black suit with a tie and mask to match the color of his wings. His sandy blonde hair is wild and you wonder if it was styled that way or if the man had flown here and made it that way. Something about him is magnetic and you can’t explain why but you have a strong desire to follow its pull. “I may have found someone, not sure yet,” you hedge. Bakugo hums in acknowledgment as he too scans around the hall. “Why are you bothering to look?” you ask. “The fuck are you on about?” he questions back. “We both know you’re big gay for Red Riot. I would bet you have been since high school,” you tease. “Shut up,” Bakugo grouses. “Am I wrong though? He’s gotta be around here somewhere,” you say looking around. You finally spot the tell tale red hair of the man Bakugo once drunkenly confessed to you he lusts after. “There he is,” you grin. “I swear to god dumbass,” Bakugo warns, looking suddenly nervous. You roll your eyes and flag down one last glass of champagne. You press it into Bakugo’s hands and then you look him in the eye with all the seriousness your tipsy ass can muster. “Listen here Katsuki. Take this liquid courage, down it in one go, march right up to that sexy ass motherfucker and whisk him off his goddamn feet. You are Katsuki motherfucking Bakugo aka Dynamight aka explosion murder GOD, the number three hero in Japan. Now go get your mans,” you tell him. You watch his crimson eyes fill with determination and you have to resist laughing at the way he looks eerily similar to how he does before a particularly daunting battle. “I’m gonna do it,” he decides. “Fuck yes!” you encourage as he knocks back the champagne before passing you the empty glass and storming over to where Kirishima is.

Meanwhile Hawks is still searching for Mirko when he lays eyes on you instead. It’s like everything else stops. The rest of the world fades away as he watches you talk with Bakugo. There’s something about how casual and wild and free you look, even dressed as elegantly as you are. There’s something different about you and he can’t peel his eyes away. How has he never seen you before? Surely he would’ve noticed someone as captivating as you sooner. The speeches are due to start soon and he really should find a seat or something, but then Bakugo leaves and you’re standing there all alone and Hawks’ feet are taking him over to you without his brain having consciously decided to do so. “Mind if I join you?” he asks before he can talk himself out of it, taking a spot next to you leaning against the table. “Not at all,” you reply with a grin. Mirko walks right past the two of you and he doesn’t even notice, too caught up in your smile and your voice. God your voice is just as beautiful as the rest of you. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before,” Hawks admits. “I could say the same to you,” you fire back. “Trust me this isn’t my first rodeo around here. But I’d remember someone as stunning as you coming to one of these,” Hawks replies easily. “Probably not if I was on another man’s arm,” you admit. “Oh, you have a boyfriend.” “Had a fiancé. Now I’m free,” you pause, looking him up and down, “well free as a bird I guess,” you finish smirking. Hawks laughs at that. “Wow, I definitely haven’t heard that one a million times,” he teases you. “I never said I was creative, just that I was free,” you tell him. When your eyes meet again it’s like a million volts have shot through your gazes and suddenly you’re hungry for him in a way you haven’t been hungry for anyone in a very long time. The lights dim as the first speaker takes the stage, out of the corner of your eye you notice a familiar blonde head leading a red one out of the room. A quick search soon reveals Midoriya eagerly watching the stage for whatever crusty retiree is about to speak. Basically, the coast is clear. “As much as I would love to listen to a bunch of old people recount stories of their hero glory days, what do you say you and I sneak over to the hotel bar for a drink,” you offer. “I’d like nothing more,” Hawks grins.

As it turns out the hotel bar is closed, but you and Hawks have no intentions of letting that stop your fun. After a quick check for security cameras or nosy bystanders, you reach out with your quirk and carefully bring a nice bottle of hard liquor from behind the bar. You promptly pass it to Hawks who raises an eyebrow at you. “I’ve been drinking most of the night, you sir need to catch up,” you explain cheekily. “Fair enough,” Hawks laughs. He cracks open the bottle and takes a long pull from it, wincing a little as it burns down his throat. “Now where to since the bar isn’t an option?” he asks. You pause and think for a moment before coming up with an idea. “Follow me,” you whisper conspiratorially before grabbing Hawks’ hand and dragging him down the hall to the stairs, both of you abandoning your masks as you go.

Hawks has never done anything this wild and reckless before. Regardless of the press’s perception of him, Hawks has had a highly regimented life since the HPSC took him in, and his sense of duty and responsibility had only grown since he properly began his career. Sure, he’s had a few girlfriends over the years, but he truly was looking for love in every one of them. Yes, even the ones after Mirko.

You are something different entirely. What he felt for all of them combined could not compare to the feelings racing through him now as the two of you run up the stairs two at a time, the sound of your footsteps echoing up the tight stairwell. He can’t take it anymore and when the two of you reach the next landing he tugs you into him by your hand and kisses you. He can taste the champagne on your tongue but there’s also something uniquely you in the kiss that he can’t get enough of. So he takes and takes and takes like a man starving and you’re all too happy to give it to him. When you two stop to catch your breath you whisper, “come on, we’re almost there,” and then press another kiss to his lips quickly before tugging him out the door into the hallway.

You keep going until you finally find the door you’re looking for. When you try the handle it’s locked but you’re not concerned. You bend down and extend your quirk into the lock, closing your eyes so you can concentrate. You can feel the different tumblers and get to work pushing at each one experimentally until they click into the proper position and the door unlocks. You grin and push the door open. “After you,” you say. “That’s a neat party trick. You sure you’re a hero?” Hawks teases as he steps into the room. As he finally turns to take it in he realizes you’ve brought him to the hotel pool. “I’m sure,” you laugh, “just grew up a bit rougher than most have. Lockpicking is pretty simple to be honest. Regardless, we should have this place to ourselves.” Hawks can relate but he’s not allowed to tell you that, so instead he asks “Oh really?” “Really.” “Wonder what we should get up to then,” he muses before suddenly pushing you into the water.

It takes a half a second for you to register what’s happening and then you’re plunging under the surface of the water. You quickly resurface and you want to be pissed but your mystery man is laughing and it’s so beautiful it’s as if the sun itself is contained within his smile. Something tells you he doesn’t laugh like this much, so, instead of getting angry, you decide to get even. “Oh you think that’s funny bird boy?” you ask. “I do,” he grins down at you as he stands what he thinks is a safe distance away from the pool’s edge. “Then why don’t you come join me,” you smile back. You reach out with your quirk, feeling it wrap around his body and then tug. You can see the shocked look on his face as your quirk drags him to the water’s edge and then unceremoniously dumps him in the water. As he comes up for air, shaking water out of his hair he looks so affronted but you can see the amusement there too. He hadn’t expected you to retaliate. So now it’s your turn to laugh. Even though your dress is probably ruined and your perfectly styled hair definitely is for the night, you laugh in a way you haven’t in ages. “Oh it’s on now,” Hawks declares and suddenly the two of you are splashing each other like children, both trying to use your quirks to gain an advantage. It’s crazy and chaotic and soon splashing turns to all but wrestling and when he finally has you pinned against him and immobilized, your back to his chest and his arms holding you tightly so you can’t squirm away, both of you stop. You both try to catch your breath, the sound of the water and your heavy breathing echoing off the pool walls. You can feel his growing erection pressing against you and you know how the rest of this will go. You’ve got an impressive resume of one night stand experience, have heard all the lines, so you’re prepared for whichever one he’s about to use. At least you think you are. “I’ve never met anyone like you before,” he whispers against the shell of your ear, “I don’t usually do stuff like this. Someone like you is new to me.” You’re about to roll your eyes when you notice his hands are shaking and it occurs to you that he must mean every word.

You hadn’t expected that. Not at all. This is different than those one night stands. He’s different. The scariest part is that this is new for you too. You don’t do play fighting in the pool. Even with Monoma there had been no magic in the relationship. It was a necessary work deal and then it morphed into something comfortable. When you invited Hawks to the bar you had just meant to drag him away for sex and then leave to go back to the gala the minute you both were satisfied. You’d weather Midoriya’s concerned look and Bakugo would high five you and then you’d forget about the mystery man with the red wings. You turn in his arms, your eyes meet his golden ones, and immediately your heartbeat is kicking in your chest. This is not that. This is more than that.

And that fucking terrifies you.

Before you can fully panic Hawks is kissing you with an intensity you can appreciate and a yearning you are shocked by but can relate to all the same. This is a one night deal. That’s how these things go. But there’s a small, traitorous part of you screaming that it doesn’t have to be this way. So you kiss him like this is the first of many to satiate that small part of you, but you also kiss him like it’s the last one ever because you know that’s the more likely option. You kiss him until kissing isn’t enough and your hands move to push his suit jacket off. He catches onto the memo quickly and removes his jacket easily before tossing it aside. He goes to remove his shirt and fumbles, Jesus Christ his hands are still shaking, so you replace his with yours and carefully begin to undo each button as he instead reaches to pull down the zipper of your dress. Between the two of you and your quirks it isn’t much longer until you’re both naked, pressed together, your clothes laid out on the side in the vague hope they’ll be drier by the time the two of you have to leave the haven you’ve created. You don’t even notice that Hawks is walking you backwards until you feel the pool ledge against your back but small details like that feel irrelevant when he’s got one hand on your waist to keep you steady and the other on your breast to thumb at your sensitive nipple.

“Up,” he commands and it sends a bit of a shiver down your spine as you obediently hop up onto the ledge. You expected him to join you but he doesn’t, instead grabbing your thighs and pulling you closer to him. It’s interesting looking down on him like this but you think you could get addicted to the hungry look in his eyes. He slowly spreads your thighs apart, maintaining eye contact in a silent request for permission as you realize what he has planned for you. You give a short nod and then he’s diving in, his tongue immediately licking up along your folds. You shudder and your grip on the pool ledge tightens as he finds your clit and begins to lavish attention on it, licking at and sucking on the sensitive nub. You think you could get off on that alone but then he switches focus, not wanting to end things too quickly, as he instead begins to tongue fuck you like his life depends on it. You throw your head back and moan as you feel his tongue sliding in and out of you, his nose occasionally brushing over your still sensitive clit. He reaches one hand up to give your nipples some attention too and soon you can’t help the keening noises that spill from your lips unbidden. You card one hand through his hair and then grab onto some of the locks as you press him in deeper, helping guide him and that magic tongue of his exactly where you want it. It doesn’t take much longer after that for you to reach climax and the look of smug satisfaction on his face after has you hungry for more of him.

You’d let him be the boss so far but it’s your turn now. “I need you up here now bird boy,” you pant as you try to catch your breath, tugging on his hair to emphasize your point. He looks a little bewildered but you can tell by the way his dick twitches he’s not opposed. “Yes ma’am,” he replies cheekily as he climbs out of the pool. As soon as he’s on the side with you you move to straddle his hips and his hands instinctively go to your waist. “Ready?” you ask and he quickly nods his head. You don’t need any more encouragement as you line yourself up and then slowly sink yourself down onto his dick. For some reason the moment you’ve fully sunk down and he’s buried all the way inside you is incredibly overwhelming. So overwhelming, in fact, you think you might cry. It’s inexplicable, but when your eyes meet Hawks’ you can tell he feels exactly the same. You stare at each other with watery eyes as he whispers “This is...” and trails off, shaking his head as he struggles to find the words to describe this moment. “Heaven in hiding,” you finish for him and it’s like something clicks into place in both your hearts. “Yea. This is heaven in hiding,” he confirms and then he’s kissing you and there’s something there you’re too terrified to identify but you still give it back to him.

You start moving, lifting your hips slowly before sinking back down onto him again and the way he whimpers into your mouth is intoxicating. He lets you control the rhythm as you ride his dick, instead focusing on trailing kisses down your neck as he rubs and pinches your nipples. You’re so incredibly tight around him that he can barely stand it. So he allows himself this surrender, allows himself to be lost in you and wholly unrestrained for the first time in a very, very long time. “Can I-?” you ask with your hand reaching for, but stopping just shy of, his wings so he can see what you’re doing and decide first. He drops his hands to your waist to still you for a second as he stares at your face in wonder almost. “No one’s bothered to ask before,” he confesses and he hadn’t really realized how much that bothered him until now. “They should’ve,” you reply simply. He takes hold of one of your hands and brings it to his mouth to press a kiss to your knuckles before guiding your hand to one of his wings. You carefully run your hands through the feathers beneath your fingertips, shocked at their softness, and notice the way he shivers at the touch. “Are they sensitive?” you ask curiously as you continue to stroke them. “Fuck. Yes baby, very,” he groans as he leans forward to rest his head against your shoulder, his grip on your hips tightening. You experimentally clench your fist around a handful of the feathers and tug slightly, immediately his hips buck up into you and he groans. “It’s ok I’ve got you,” you tell him. He pulls back so he can finally look into your eyes again and quietly replies “I know.”

You’re not even sure who initiated it this time when the two of you begin kissing each other again. You start riding him again, the two of you quickly finding a tender rhythm together to move in sync. His wings flare and puff up behind him as if loving the sudden attention you’re giving them and as you continue to stroke through them Hawks brings one of his hands to your clit to provide extra stimulation to you too. Your moans echo back to you and it’s like the two of you are creating a symphony in this little safe haven you’ve created for yourselves in the hotel pool and it’s all so much. Almost too much. You can feel tears on your cheeks and you’re not sure if they’re yours or his, but you don’t care. You don’t care in the slightest you just need him, all of him. Finally you give a particularly strong tug on his feathers and it’s enough to have him crying out as he reaches his orgasm. The feeling of him filling you up and the gorgeous picture he makes is enough to send you over the edge as well and there’s nothing either of you can do besides hold each other tightly, moans choking out of your throats like sobs as you’re overwhelmed by your climaxes and the unnamed feelings bursting between the two of you.

When the feeling finally passes it leaves both of you somewhat drained as you pant to catch your breath. Hawks carefully reaches a hand to your cheek and brushes away your tears. You’re more than happy to return the favor. Turns out both of you had been crying. “Was that as insane and overwhelming for you as it was me,” Hawks asks quietly. “Yea... Yea it really fucking was,” you confess. “Good,” Hawks replies before pressing another sweet kiss to your lips. Both of you have the distinct thought, “I could stay like this forever,” at the same time, but it would seem the universe has other plans.

Your quiet moment is disturbed by the sound of an alarm blaring overhead. You both curse your luck but still are in no hurry to move. You carefully remove yourself from his dick, trying diligently to ignore how obscene it looks to watch his cum start to dribble out of you and how it feels like a loss for it not to stay. Hawks seems to be having similar thoughts but tears his eyes away as he goes to get dressed. You use your quirk to squeeze out as much water as you can from your dress without further damaging it. The alarm is still blaring and you’re both well aware you should be moving with more urgency but it’s hard to make yourselves leave the little world you created for yourselves in here. Once you’re both redressed you quietly clasp each other’s hands and finally leave the room.

The alarm is even louder in the hallway and it’s like the magic of the previous moment is shattered by it. “We probably should arrive separately. Avoid scandal and all that,” you say. “You’re right,” he admits. Neither of you let go of the other’s hand. Finally you sigh, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, before slipping your hand from his and heading the opposite direction. You both jog away in a bid to exit the building and figure out what’s going on when a thought strikes you. You don’t know each other’s names. You decide it’s for the best. Hawks spins around to try and catch up to you and ask but you’re already gone. It feels like an ending.

It’s actually only the beginning.

Author’s Note: I typically try to keep the reader’s quirk nonspecific in my work because I know a lot of people have ideas of what they’d want their quirk to be if they were in the MHA universe but (y/n)’s quirk has plot relevance so I gave her a specific one. She can move objects with her mind (telekinesis) but she feels it almost like a physical sensation, as if there’s an invisible extension of herself reaching out to grab things. It’s why she can use it for something as specific as picking a lock. As y’all can see this one got away from me lol but I hope it’s worth the wait. OH ALSO the pool scene is inspired by the one from Baz Luhrman’s Romeo and Juliet.

Taglist [open]: @akkaso @cathy8taffy @eeppff

[wonderwomanfantasy]

Today, Tomorrow, Forever.

Behold, the four AM dabi fic. Also this is the first part of a series so look out for the next part. Also Also, this is based on a lot of different books and shows so if at any point you’re like “hey this is just like X” you’re probably right. 

Dabi x Reader (not really in this chapter but we’ll get there)

warnings: swearing, violence, abuse, Endeavor, spooky shit, cannon divergence (Dabi is a good brother), this is a full AU so I did mess with the ages of the Todorokis,

words: 2,300

summary: Out of the frying pan into the fire, that was the expression right? leaving one bad situation into something much much worse? That’s where you were right now, in the fire. 

Sometimes it was hard for you to tell what was real, and what was fiction. Often you’d wake from a vivid dream and as you blinked the spots from your eyes and looked up at the textured ceiling of your bedroom, and for an instant, or in truth much longer than an instant, you’d still be there. In the dream. Then you would get up and you would remember, you were in your room, in your bed, in your body. At least that’s what it seemed like. 

Then of course there were the ghosts. You weren’t sure if the ghosts were reality or fiction, they seemed like a gray area between the two. Sometimes other people could see them, which lead you to believe they were real, but then most of the time it was only you seeing the figures and shapes, But that didn’t mean they weren’t real. 

All this to say when Enji Todoroki told you his house was haunted, you were surprised to meet someone so open to believing in ghosts. Of course, he rather quickly squashed that idea with the next words out of his mouth being “Those rumors are of course ridiculous but some idiots still believe it,”

“Of course,” you replied meekly, dropping your eyes from his stern gaze.  “Ghosts, real or not don’t bother me so that won’t be an issue, Sir.”

You needed the job, badly, so you were willing to lie. Enji was looking for a Nanny for his youngest son, you were looking to get away from where you were coming from, so you were both in a position to help the other. And the only catch seemed to a slightly haunted house. You could live with that, as long as your own ghosts stayed away.  

“When can you start?”

The Todoroki manner was a large one, Ornate and lavish if not old, clean and well taken care of it seemed, but empty. There was a housekeeper, a cook, a gardener, and a pool boy, all of whom seemed very nice but all of them seemed to slip into the shadows the moment you turned your back, and as it where you were to be the only one who lived in the manner full time, isolating you further. 

As Enji walked you through the home you couldn’t help but think that perhaps it was more than the ghost rumors that were keeping people away. There were framed photos on the wall, of Enji, his wife, and four children all of varying ages, you found it strange that none of them seemed to be here, save Enji and Shoto. 

Speaking of Shoto, You were warned about the scar that covered nearly half of his face, but the warning wasn’t enough to prepare you for seeing it in person, it took all you had not to gasp when you looked the boy in the face. Similarly, you knew that he was a quiet boy, but you hadn’t been expecting him to give you a single “nice to meet you,” then stay silent for the rest of your interaction. 

“He’s just a little shy, we’ll warm up to each other,” you assured, smiling first at Shoto and then at his father. 

Then Enji left leaving you alone with his son. You were awful with kids, terrible really and if you had had any other choice you might not have taken this job. You had no idea how to even begin acting around this kid. 

You decided to pull from what little human interaction you could and decided to treat him like a coworker. Right so what would you do with a cold coworker?

“Shoto, I’m still new so why don’t you show me your favorite part of the house alright? Then we can do something fun,” you offered. He thought about it and nodded. While he didn’t say anything just stood up and started walking out of the room. You followed him as he lead you out into the backyard there was a large grass field and a pool with trees lining the promoter. It was a warm spring day, but most of the trees in the yard were dead, not yet budding, still suffering from the harsh winter.  

Shoto lead you into a patch of trees further in the back of the field to a cluster of oak trees and you saw one had an old ropes wing hanging from the lowest branch. 

“You like to swing?” you asked and he shook his head

“No? Then why this spot,” you asked and for the first time since meeting him, he spoke

“My mom used to like this swing, she’d sit on it and read me stories,” he said, crouching down and sitting down on one of the roots of the old tree. You crouched down beside him.

“I see, so you come here to remember your mom?” you asked and he nodded silently. You took a shuddering breath and reached down the collar of your shirt pulling out a slender silver chain that held a locket, and showed the necklace to Shoto.

“I do the same thing with this locket, it helps me remember my mom too,” you said. 

“Your mom went away too?” he asked.

“Yeah, she got really sick when I was younger and, she went away,” you said, choking back emotion, you were surprised that talking about your mother still brought up this sadness in you, Shoto reached out and touched your hand. Almost like he was trying to comfort you. 

“We still see her sometimes, in the hospital, but it’s not the same,” He said quietly, a cold breeze passed over you, ruffling your hair and making you shiver. 

“That must be hard,” you said and he nodded, “why don’t you show me some of your other favorite places okay?” You said and he nodded. You both stood and walked back into the house, another shiver going down your spine as you tucked your locket back into your shirt. 

It only took you a week to realize that Enji Todoroki had never spent a day in his life with his son. While Shoto’s room was littered with sports equipment, soccer balls, baseball bats, tense rackets, all unused. 

Shoto liked the library, he liked to read and draw, he wasn’t a hard kid to look after, you would read with him, or fill in coloring books at his request, and often the two of you would walk around the field talk about the books he’d read. 

Sometimes Shoto would ask to see your locket, and you’d show it to him and you’d talk about your mothers together.

“Is there a picture inside the locket?” he asked and you winced, instinctually closing your fist around the silver heart. 

“No,” you lied, “the latch is broken so it doesn’t open,” you  said. He nodded and dropped the subject. You tucked the locket back inside your shirt and went on with the game of chess you were playing, losing badly to Shoto.

He was a good kid, and he opened up to you easily, which only solidified in your mind that Enji had never once tried to understand him but you weren’t getting paid to play family therapist. 

While taking care of Shoto was easy, living in the manner was anything but. The house was old and made a lot of creaking settling noises that never failed to make you jump. The rooms were dimly lit and furnished with dark wood making the rooms feel smaller than they where, making you clostrophobic.  Even though you had been living here for over a month now the lay out of the house still perplexed you sometimes, leading to geting lost in rooms you’d never seen before and would never see again. 

The rooms of the Elder Todorokis, Shoto’s brothers and sisters, always remained locked, not that you had ever tried to open any of those doors, the strage chill that seemed to emanate from that room was always enough to keep you away. 

All of that was annoying, chilling even, knowing what you knew. But none of it was unbearable, but the ghosts. The ghosts made you want to leave. 

Sometimes you would wake up with a transparent blue woman looming over you and you had to clap your hand over your mouth to keep you from screaming. She left as soon as you saw here, leaving you shaking. 

“I am in Todoroki manor,” you started shakily, touching a hand to the top of your head.  “I’m in my bed, I’m in my body,” you reminded yourself before collapsing back to the bed

 No one else seemed to be able to see the man in the kitchen or  the apparitions that plaied out side. So you kept quiet, and didn’t say anything. 

Some nights how ever, they kept you up. You would sit shaking in your bed, one hand firmly around your locket the other over your mouth while widows slammed open and things toppled from shelves.  While most of the ghosts in the house seemed docile there was at least one who wasn’t. This villant ghost never showed themself, until one night. 

It was pitch black when you returned home. You had been permitted to Take Shoto out of the house and the two of you had gone to a movie. 

He tieredly rubbed his eyes as you helped him out of his jacket. 

“Ready for bed?” you asked and he nodded. He took your hand and slowly you both made your way up the stairs.  There was a loud cracking sound and before you saw the heavy oak banister crack. 

You frose in place. Not now, you silently pleaded, not in front of someone else, you couldn’t contain your fear and still play it off as normal. You could smell smoke. 

Shoto suddenly gripped your hand tighter.  “We should run,” he said, could he possibly see what you were seeing?

Before you could ask him anything, the painting on the wall to your left fell to the floor with a crash, blood oozing out of the eyes of the people inside, Shoto screamed, and without thinking you lifted him in your arms and took off running. His short nails dug into your shoulders as he clung to you.  You saw a door cracked open and without thinking you burst into the room slamming the door closed behind the two of you and slumping to the floor, Shoto in your lap your back to the heavy wood. You took a look around assessing your surroundings and saw you were in Shoto’s neat and tidy room. 

There was another loud crash and you felt Shoto go stiff in your arms frozen in fear and suddenly there was only one thing you could think and that was oh god I have to protect this child I have to protect this poor poor child. You lifted him easily in his arms and marched to his bed, then you firmly removed him from your shirt and place him down.

“Hide under the covers, I’ll be right back okay?” you ordered, he looked terrified, he didn’t say anything just crawled under the covers. You spun around on your heel and headed to the door, picking up his toy bat as you went. Sure it was a toy but damn if you weren’t going to swing it hard enough to cause some real damage. And you barrage into the darkened hallway. 

At first, there was a disturbing quiet, just the labored sound of your breathing. “Don’t play coy now you son of a bitch,” you hissed under your breath. There was a groan and you whipped around seeing your ghost for the first time.

The first time you’d seen a ghost, and known it was a ghost, was when you were seven. You were five or six. You were in a park sat on the swingset trying to learn how to swing without needing to be pushed like the big kids did when you saw an old woman who had neither arms nor legs. Most ghosts were like that, half-formed, incomplete as if they had lost more than just their lives.

Not this one, however. You could see him perfectly from the tip of his spikey white hair down all the way to the clasps on his boots. He looked surprisingly like Natsuo, with white spikey hair, a lanky body, and angry eyes. Toya, he had called his dead brother. Toya was right in front of you now. 

This revelation paused you for only a moment before you glaired at the spectator. 

“Can you-” he began to speak but you cut him off by swinging the bat through his middle section, it passed through him harmlessly but you didn’t care you moved to hit him again. 

“Stop,” he growled and caught you by the thought, you gasped feeling his cold skin touch your throat, then his fingers clamped down choking you. He looked stunned, not that you really cared about whatever revelation this bastard was going through if he could touch you that means you should be able to touch him. You swung the bat again this time hitting his wrist knocking his hand off your throat, you stagged back and sneered at the ghost your heart pounding in your chest so loud you wondered if he could hear it. 

He, Toya, Looked at his hand flexing his fingers, then at you, then vanished. You whirled looking for where he would pop up next, but he didn’t appear. You rushed back into Shoto’s room coking him out of the covers and holding him while he sobbed. You might have cried a little too, it was hard to tell.

In the morning there would be bruises of fingers on your neck.