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that-gay-guy-from-hell · 2 years

Text

Stuck in a Rut: Dante x G/N Reader

NSFW ahead Minors DNI

Seriously go away, children Summary:Dante is going through his first rut with you being his mate. Things have been going fine; he’s been doing what he needs and you have been enjoying it. However, it is the last week of his season and he is having issues relieving his ‘itch’ for you.

Beginning Notes: Since I keep writing long stories; I decided to take a break and write something smaller. This isn’t super descriptive or anything, but I like it idk lmao I know that this is “unrealistic” and that like over like 7 inches or some shit would hurt you (and can kill you) just roll with it. ✨🩸✨ Bottom G/N Reader x Top Dante--written with Male in mind, but no describing words or terms used that indicate such. Basically, just smut with very minor fluff Monsterfucking; Devil Trigger, Sin Devil Trigger Knotting Overstimulation; reader tells him to stop but it is disingenuous Minor Mating/Breeding Kink Biting Very Minor choking Small blood warning

Over the past few weeks, Dante and you had been sharing your (or rather his) first rut together. Things were going fine, great actually. The devil had been able to satisfy himself within a few rounds every six or seven hours. When you had sex it was mindblowing and, afterwards, he would shower you with pure romantic affections that made your heart melt. Today, however, Dante was having a hard time fulfilling those inner unholy urges.

“Fuck- Dante~!” you felt the red devil manhandle you into a downward dog pose. A roasting grey-scaled hand pushed roughly down onto the back of your neck; forcing your head down and your hips up, “Wait-- Please--”

Without hesitation, Dante shoved himself back inside and let out a tumultuous growl. Loud squelching noises came from you with every thrust of his hips, courteous of the several previous rounds of lovemaking. The two of you had been slamming hips together for nearly an hour now and you were beyond sore. Your hands gripped violently at the disheveled bedding as you felt him pick up the pace once more.

Dante moved his hand from the back of your neck and the top of your head, yanking it backwards. Slowly, he kissed along your neckline and was doing his best not to bite down too hard into your soft flesh.

“Fuck,” you hissed at him, “bite me if that’s what-- Ah~!”

You didn’t have to tell him twice, he bit down harshly piercing your skin with his sharp teeth. The red devil’s thrusts had become short and rough as he set the side of his face against yours. Hot breath washed over your skin as you leaned back against him; hoping that meant he was finally reaching his final peak.

With a final hard slam, he came inside you once more; burying himself to the hilt. Because of how much Dante had been ramming your poor hole, it didn’t take much force to push his knot inside your body. Not only that but, you were full enough that his cum was already running out of your body.

The two of you sat breathing heavily as you mumbled to him, “Are you..?” you couldn’t even finish your sentence out of exhaustion.

Dante didn’t respond.

You exasperatedly face-planted into the bed, muffling your words, “Oh my god…”

The red devil’s voice was soft and ladened with a thick feeling of remorse as he whispered, “I’m sorry… We can stop if--”

With a loud huff, you turned your head slightly to unmuffle your voice, “Why don’t you just use it?”

“Wait--” Dante stiffened and sat upwards, pulling himself from your body--making you groan loudly, “You mean..?”

“Y-yes,” your hips dropped to lay flat on the bed and you shivered at the feeling of his seed gushing out of your body, “At this point, I don’t care.”

Dante stared down at you for a moment in thought, his cock still standing at full attention. Carefully, he flipped you over to face him and placed his hands flatly on the mattress beside your body, “You don’t know what you are asking me to do-- This will hurt,” admittedly, his cock was aching at you making such a naughty request.

“Dante,” you tiredly set a hand on his cheek, slowly running your thumb over the ridges of his face, “Do it.”

His brow furrowed as he frowned with worry, “But--”

“I want you to fuck me in your Sin Trigger, Dante,” your fingers slid behind the plating on his jaw and pulled slightly, eliciting a groan from the devil, “I want you to break me.”

A low growling came from deep within his chest as he looked down at you, “Last chance to back--”

You roughly pulled him down to meet your lips and forced your tongue into the heat of his mouth. Dante groaned at the feeling of you instigating such a fervorous kiss. The two of you fought for dominance, which Dante won of course; allowing him to explore your cavern freely. Once the two of you broke apart, the devil leaned back and stood up from the mattress.

Before you were even able to lean upwards to see him, a large set of broiling hands yanked you by your ankles to the foot of the bed. You swallowed hard as you felt the same set of grey and red scaled hands pick you up by your middle. Quickly, you wrapped your legs around the un-armored parts of his abs. This caused you to nick the underside of your legs on the large sharp spikes that decorated his thighs--making you hiss in pain.

In all your time being with him--even before you started dating--you had only seen his Sin Trigger a handful of times and that was always at a distance. Now that you are seeing him up close and personal, you were semi-afraid of your larger-than-life lover. His stature was enormous and the snarling growls he made as he moved you around like a toothpick, made you fearfully aroused.

That’s when you felt it.

Although you know Dante warned you, you didn’t really consider exactly how he meant that this would hurt; you, of course, knew that his dick would grow with him, but this was much more than you expected. You gasped at the feeling of his overwhelmingly thick cock head that prodded at your hole, trying to enter your body. Thankfully, there was plenty of Dante’s cum to use as lubrication; otherwise, the devil would have torn through your insides.

You shouted in pain at him trying to shove himself inside, “Fuck!” desperately, you clawed and grabbed at his biceps, “Dante-! Slower, pl-please,” tears had already sprung to the corners of your eyes as you grimaced, trying to relax.

Admittedly, you were worried if he was going to be able to understand you; however, the red devil did slow down as you requested. Relieved at the small amount of control he displayed, you closed your eyes to focus on allowing him inside. He slowly inched his way into your hole, emitting a low rumbling growl the entire time.

All the while, Dante licked at your neck and face in an attempt to apologize. The red devil had no lips to kiss you with, so this was the best that he could manage. His tongue was pleasantly hot and felt like a cat licking you; gently scraping your skin. Although you were overwhelmed by the insurmountable feeling of being stretched out by his cock, you couldn’t help but laugh at the strangly cute action. However, this died down as you suddenly felt a pain start in your lower abdomen.

“Wait--” Dante stopped both the movement of his hips and tongue at your words. Your breathing was heavy as you spoke between breaths, “I can’t take any more in, please…” the red devil had pushed nearly ten inches inside your hole and still had plenty to spare.

He seemed to understand and stood still, allowing you to try to adjust. Distantly, you found yourself worrying about him trying to push too far into you when he finishes but were quickly brought back to reality by the sudden shifting of the red devil.

A loud sharp mixture of a moan and shout left your lips from him sliding out a few inches and pushing back in; moving in slow restrained movements, “Fuck~! Dante, holy sh-shit,” your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he moved more.

It only took a few minutes for Dante to work up to a brutal pace. Loud and animalistic growls left his body as he fucked up into you, holding you like a living fleshlight--and treating you with the same respect. His fingers had tightened around your middle, bruising it almost instantly. A small amount of blood began to drip from your sides from the pin-prick tips of his claws slicing into your skin. Each one of Dante’s thrusts only made him hunger more for your body; hunger to make you his.

All this in contrast to you; you who was scarcely able to hold on and just continued loudly moan miscellaneous gibberish at the devil. A small amount of drool began to dribble from your mouth as you did your best to stay awake and your eyes rolled into the back of your head. You felt Dante begin to heat up, a sign that he was getting close--which he was much hotter than his Regular Trigger, you noted.

Wanting to hold him, you use what little energy you had and leaned forwards. Carefully, you set your hands on his face doing your best to avoid the spikes along his jaw. Upon feeling your small gentle human hands, the devil leaned into you and placed his forehead against yours. Dante growled louder in pleasure at your touch and cocooned you with his wings; holding you even closer. Although it wasn’t clear because of the lack of pupils, you thought he was staring into your eyes--a rather romantic gesture during such a less-than-such fuck fest.

It was swelteringly hot within the bundling grasp of the devil, to the point of you feeling lightheaded. You knew Dante would stop if you passed out so you did your best to push him over the edge by trying to tighten your body--not wanting to have to try again later.

“Dante,” your voice was hoarse, “Please~” you felt him tighten his grip, “I’m all yours, Dante. Plea-ah~” his thrusts became short and ragged, “Just- Gah~ please…”

At this point, Dante was doing everything in his power to not force himself all the way inside you--knowing that you would die. However, all he wanted to do to knot your tight hole--to breed you. Because of this intense focus, he hadn’t noticed that he had his claws sunk nearly an inch into your flesh and had begun to burn your delicate human skin with his scorching scaled palms.

You, admittedly, had noticed but were beyond overstimulated and exhausted; so you didn’t care as long as he hit his climax.

It only took a few more stiff hard jabs before he spilled his hot load. Not really thinking, the red devil sunk his teeth deep into you as he normally would; not thinking of the consequences that this could and would have. Not only were his teeth razor sharp and quite large; the inside of his mouth was scaldingly hot and burnt your skin. The devil’s teeth sunk just shy of an inch deep into the side of your neck--making you suddenly aware of what he just did.

You shouted in both pain and pleasure, “Dante~! That--” you hissed as you sliced your palm on his shoulders, forgetting that he is covered in spikes, “That hurts-- Ah~!” you moaned loudly as you felt him shift his hips a bit.

The red devil just stood there unloading himself into your trembling body. You were full enough that most of his seed ended up on the floor and both of you; however, despite this, the devil made sure to stay inside you. He thunderously purred through his bite, making you feel tingly at the strange sensation. Admittedly, you were on cloud nine and the rumbling sensation only added to the intense overstimulation caused by your lover.

The two of you stood for several minutes as Dante slowly ground himself against you, still fighting the urge to push further into your delightfully full hole; the hole that belonged to him. His wings slowly unfurled from around you and his grip slowly loosened; removing his claws from your skin. You were on the verge of unconsciousness as you felt him shift once more; this time, however, it was because he was slowly backing out of his Sin Trigger--moving to his Regular Trigger.

A low groan left your pursed lips as you felt him remove his cock with an audible pop. You shivered as you felt a sudden wetness drip down your legs; accompanied by the feeling of being both too full and uncomfortably empty. The next thing he did was release his vice grip of a bite.

There were thick lines of his spit mixed with your blood that strung between your flesh and him as he slowly removed himself from you tender neck. Still coming down from his high, Dante had a wide smile as he gently set you down on a clean section of the bed. Looking down at your disheveled form, he wiped the blood from his mouth with a large proud smirk. You were relatively out of it at this point; wanting nothing more than to sleep--not caring about how messy everything was or how much loving pain you were in. The red devil placed a gentle kiss on your forehead due to a warm overly-sappy lovey feeling beginning to fill his chest.

It wasn’t until he saw blood begin to quickly pool on the sheets below your neck that he began to realize the gravity of the situation. Although it wasn’t uncommon for you to end up with some bleeding marks during the last few weeks; the bite from this session was much deeper and had larger holes than normal. Without thinking, the fiery devil placed one of his palms on your neck to cauterize the wound shut.

Which pulled you right back to reality with a loud shout, “Fuck! Dante!” you tried to pull away from his palm.

With a small huff, Dante used his other hand to brace the opposing side of your neck and held you in place. After a few painfully long minutes, the devil removed his hand. A strained grunt left his lips as he returned to his human form, now just as exhausted as you.

You were breathing heavily and had tear streaks running down your face, “Why..?”

He sighed and gently placed his head against your chest as he mumbled, “You were bleeding too much…”

A small agreeing, “Ah,” is all you could manage to say.

Admittedly, it was a good thing you were semi-delirious; otherwise, you would have shared in Dante’s worry. If he had bit down just a little further through your soft neck, the red devil would have bitten through your jugular and killed you. The two of you would have to figure out a safer way for him to use that side of him; if you want him to use it at all.

Before the two of you could discuss it, a small gentle snore caught Dante’s attention. You were already fast asleep. The devil stood up with a small shake of his head and a large toothy smile as he made his way to get some cleaning and medical supplies.

Surely you were going to be angry about how much your neck--and the rest of your body--hurt from today; however, that is for future Dante to worry about. All he wanted to do right now was clean you up and curl up close to you. You, his partner, lover, mate; his everything.

Ending Notes: Hope y'all enjoyed this even though it's kinda short. The next story will most likely be a fluffy (not angsty) Vergil fic; so stay tuned lmao

Want to see more like this? Want to read my work quicker and several stories that are not on Tumblr? Check this out on my AO3 (Linked here)

MASTER LIST FOR TUMBLR

#Devil may cry 5 #devil may cry #dmc #devil may cry dante #dante #dante x reader #dante x gn reader #dante x male reader #dante x female reader #smut #reposted from AO3 #AO3 #oneshot #devils have rut #idk #basically smut without an actual plot #fan fiction #fan fic #reader insert

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jiaoqiu-s-bitch · 2 years

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I need the filthiest smut with kazuha- reader having her first time with him, and I just know under that pretty face hides a big corruption kink and since he knows his way around words some dirty talk too PLEASE

so many hoes for Kazuha here LMAO

I hope this does your request justice, it might not be as filthy as you might’ve wanted but I tried to keep it realistic as a first time!!

anyways, please enjoy~

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Kazuha x virgin fem s/o (nsfw)

• Kaedehara Kazuha is a man that knows many people, and even more people know him

• you’ve probably heard of him long before your first encounter, his own reputation and that of his clan preceding him

• but you had never cared much for such things, taking note of them but refusing to believe rumors until you’ve verified them with your own two eyes

• and this lone samurai was barely anything like the rumors had suggested: his stature rather small, his voice calm and soft like a spring breeze

• only the rumors of his immense talent and strength had not been off the mark, his every move invoking awe and admiration, in and outside of combat

• I can’t see him being interested in one-night stands or fwb, this man is the type to settle for nothing less than what he truly believes to be his soulmate

• despite seeming and actually being old-fashioned in some ways, he wouldn’t turn you down if you weren’t a virgin anymore

• he cannot change what lies in the past and would never judge you for it either, what happened before you’ve known him is none of his business (not in every way but you get my point)

• but when you tell him that you are in fact still a virgin, he would lie if he said it didn’t make a difference

• not in the way that he’d resent you if you weren’t, but I just know the thought of being each other’s first and last has an immense appeal to him

• needless to say, this gentle samurai is the king of consent

• he keeps making sure you’re okay with everything he does, taking his sweet time prepping you in every way he can think of and only going all the way when you yourself specifically request it

• he may be inexperienced, but he’s a fast learner due to his sharp observation skills, picking up on your every reaction and memorizing what movements, amounts of pressure and pace please you the most

• and when it actually comes down to it? he’ll be so drunk on the noises you make in combination with your facial expressions, it gives him an immense kick to know that he’s the only one to ever see you like this

• he feels slight guilt for feeling that way, knowing you’re currently in pain from getting stretched out by him

• it takes all of his willpower to not bust right then and there because he gets lost in the moment and the foreign feeling of being inside the love of his life, but pleasing you is his top priority and he’d be damned if he were to finish first and leave you unsatisfied

• he’ll stay still until you adjust to his girth and give him the okay to go deeper, and even then he won’t take his eyes off of your face to keep checking for any signs of discomfort or uncertainty

• but if you urge him to keep going, he’ll give you a small chuckle, one of his hands finding its way up to your cheek to gently wipe away a single tear gathered in the outer corner of your eye with his thumb

• "So pretty and so eager to get ruined by me… my beautiful angel…" he whispers in adoration, his voice trailing off towards the end

• once the pain in your core subsides, he can feel your tight walls slightly relax around him, allowing him to fully bottom out inside of you

• mans feels like he’s in heaven.

• he’s traveled around and seen a lot, but this?? he can’t possibly imagine a better feeling

• he’ll give a gentle, tentative roll of his hips, moaning softly at the feeling and his cock twitching as you do the same

• he’ll set a slow pace, fearful of cumming too quickly if he were to go any faster, he wants this to last as long as possible (the first time he can relate to Raiden’s dream of unchanging eternity LOL)

• it feels good for you as well and you’re definitely enjoying yourself, but it’s not quite enough to bring you close to the edge

• he picks up on that quickly, adjusting himself to be able to rub your clit with his skilled fingers in tandem with his slow thrusts

• he’ll experiment a bit until you tense up and briefly clench around him, signifying that he’s found your sweet spot

• the needy noises you make as he keeps hitting it repeatedly are music to his ears, he could swear it’s the sweetest melody he’s ever heard

• and knowing he’s the only one to ever hear it, past or future? to see you like this? slowly falling apart just for him? he for once feels like the luckiest man alive

• of course he knows the answer, yet he can’t resist asking "Tell me my love, does it feel good?"

• you yourself are way too overwhelmed by all these sensations and emotions to give a coherent answer, but that makes it all the better for Kazuha

• I want to say he’ll last insanely long, but he is just a man and this being his first time as well, I don’t think that’s the case

• however, this will by far not be the last time of the two of you having sex, so don’t worry, his stamina will keep building up over time

• but no matter how soon he cums, he will always make it up to you and will not rest until you’ve cum for him at least twice, repeatedly apologizing for not lasting all the way

• as if you’d mind lol, seeing this man lose himself inside of you while moaning your name is pure bliss in itself

• and oh does he make sure to have you lose yourself too

• Kazuha loves eating you out, and he will always do it like it’s his last meal, taking his time savoring and appreciating you

• he literally can’t get enough of you and tends to send you into overstimulation

• he can’t help it, he just loves when your quivering thighs squeeze crush his head, he loves the way your voice breaks as you try to tell him it’s too much, the way your eyes roll back as variations of his name he’s never heard before fall from your parted lips

• long story short: your first time with him will not be flawless but still perfect, and it no doubt leaves you needy for more

#my writing stuff #genshin impact #genshin headcanons #genshin hcs #genshin writing #genshin x reader #genshin smut #kaedehara kazuha #kazuha #kazuha x reader

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gatorbites-imagines · 1 year

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hey bestie :) would you mind giving us a full list of all your kryptonian headcannons? i'd love to hear what your ideas are for them. -LB

Kryptonian Headcanons

Theres quite a lot so i put it under the cut.

Something akin to a Caste system or “alpha/beta/omega”. Meaning some are born a higher caste and their biology reflect that. This doesn’t mean anyone is too above anyone else, bodies or biology are just slightly different such as muscle mass or appearance. Meaning some might have wider shoulders or slimmer hips, or even sharp ears like a halfelf in a fantasy setting.

This shows through ones “aura”, or things like how one carries themselves or how the primal part of ones brain acts and thinks. Things like appearance doesn’t have much say, as anyone can be smaller or bigger, it can only really be noticed through things like scent or “aura” aka the vibe one gives off.

One tends to be able to feel another caste just from their vibe, though its typically first noticed through things like clothing, as different clans wear different colours or styles, though its nowhere near as stark and different like ancient times.

Kryptonians purr, but it tends to be at a frequency only those with special hearing or other kryptonians can hear. Kryptonian purring like cat purring has healing and relaxing properties. They can also growl and chuff but that too is at a volume only picked up by other kryptonians.

In ancient times it was common to find a mate perfect for you, who fit you in every sense. It led to things like “the hunt” which was a ritual where the one who wanted to stake their claim, would chase the other, catch them, and they would bond. When bonded a deep connection was created by the two of more members, and it became as deep as being able to feel one others’ emotion.

This urge is much more diluted nowadays. When you meet someone who is compatible kryptonians will still feel it inside themselves, and if ignored for too long it can grow into a burning need inside their bodies. Though it can be supressed and even fizzle out if it is not returned by the other party.

But if left out of check the need and want can become borderline maddening. If kryptonians are not taught by clan or family from a young age how to deal with their primal urges it can become maddening, so when they meet their compatible partner, it can have effects. This can lead to the two or more being incredibly drawn to each other, or even lead to a rivalry like situation, if the caste standing is unclear.

It wasn’t uncommon for those of higher caste to have multiple partners, akin to a harem in ancient times. Nowadays harems are looked down upon but polycules are accepted.

As kryptonians themselves don’t sweat all that much, scent can be very important to kryptonians. This is also why a kryptonian partner might go a little coocoo from their human partners sweat and musk, as its much more concentrated than the scent you’d find on another kryptonian.

If you’ve read my fics you know I hc kryptonians as more hung than humans and able to produce a large amount of any bodily fluid at this point. This headcanon exists solely for my own pleasure.

Kryptonians can be much older than humans, meaning that they reach sexual maturity at an older age than humans, striking them in about their late 30s, where after they’ll be in their prime to have children until their 80s or 90s. But the first couple of years are the strongest, as they gain influx of pheromones that weren’t there before.

Kryptonians possess organs that you won’t find in a human. Like an organ in their throat and chest that allows them to purr.

Or what I dubbed the “sunspot”. Its an organ placed where youll find the solar plexus on a human. Its an organ that takes in the access radiation from the sun that isn’t used by the body. Normally the sunspot isn’t anything special, but if touched or rubbed by a kryptonians partner, it’s very sensitive as it will leak the radiation within into the kryptonians body. This isn’t dangerous for any non kryptonian. partner, don’t worry.

In ancient time the clothes of Krypton reflected this organ, leaving open holes or wearing open fronted shirts or dresses to expose the organ to as much sunlight as possible. But it became out of fashion later on, as the sun weakened.

Any gender on krypton can become pregnant, but seeing as natural births were so incredibly rare later on, it was pretty much forgotten. Its not that you can just go ahead and get a male kryptonian pregnant though, it would need the kryptonian to be willing and very into the idea of it. Think how some women want to be pregnant so bad they show symptoms. That would be the same for a male kryptonian, who would develop the needed organs for it over a period of months to a year.

That’s all I can think of off the top of my head right now.

#dc #kryptonian #krypton #clark kent #superman #dc headcanons #dc imagine #kryptonian headcanon #kryptonian imagine #kryptonian biology #krypton imagine #krypton headcanon #clark kent headcanon #clark kent imagine #superman imagine #superman headcanon #worldbuilding

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mermaidfanficlibrary · 1 year

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I CAME BARRELING INTO YOUR INBOX BC HOLY HECK THIS IS A CUTE EVENT :DD

okay okay so!!!! i will give my fav boy ✨floyd leech✨...

hibiscuses, pansies, and moonflowers!! romantic if you can! :D

REMEMBER TO HYDRATE AND DON'T OVERWHELM YOURSELF BC OF THE EVENT!!!

‎‧₊🦋˚✧A Bouquet for you My dear✧˚🦋₊‧| Pt. 1 | You are all I think about

Characters: Floyd Leech

Summary: Sending Floyd Leech Hibiscuses, Pansies, and Moonflowers

Warnings: Just pure fluff

Taglist: @nightshade-clown

Sending the chosen flowers to Floyd Leech... Loading now...

[■■■□□□□□□□] 30% [■■■■□□□□□□] 40% [■■■■■□□□□□] 50% [■■■■■■□□□□] 60% [■■■■■■■■□□] 80% [■■■■■■■■■□] 90%

Now sent! Would you like to wait for a response? [> Yes] >No

...

Floyd was hanging around the Monstro Lounge, not wanting to do any of the work his house warden gave him. It was one of those days where Floyd didn't want to do anything at all. Well, anything to do with Monstro Lounge and work. His mind was elsewhere, thinking of hanging out with a friend.

He smiled softly at the thought of his friend, as he was sprawled on one of the seats. Floyd was kicking his legs, feeling excited as he thought more of his friend. Floyd was interrupted from his thoughts, which annoyed him some, but he begrudgingly went to see who wouldn’t let themselves in. When he opened the door, he looked around to see no one was around.

Floyd was more than annoyed at this point, ready to squeeze anyone who upset him next. But when he looked down, all annoyance washed away. Floyd picked up the glass vase of flowers, slowly spinning it, looking at every angle. As he stared endlessly at the flowers, Floyd brought the vase in and set it down on the bar.

He sat in front of it, putting his head on his elbows as they rested on the table. Jade walked by, seeing his brother staring into the flowers with a curious light shining. Jade smiled softly before speaking up.

“My Floyd, what beautiful flowers.”

Floyd looked up to his brother with an annoyed tone.

“So? I dunno who sent em, and it's annoying me.”

Jade giggled slightly, looking for a tag on the vase. He turned it slightly following the twine that was tied beautifully fitting the form. Attached to it was a brown tag with two names and a note. He turned it to face Floyd, urging him to read it. Floyd reluctantly turned his head, adjusting to see the writing. He read the first part out loud.

“To Floyd, from Y/n.”

Floyd's eyes lit up, just at the mention of the person. He smiled and lightly kicked his legs as his head perked up to read the rest of what was attached to the tag. Every word written made his heart beat a little faster. Floyd smiled, showing his enchanting sharp teeth.

Hibiscus: Rare beauty

Your beauty is something that most don’t see, nor do they think of it when they see you. But when I see you, I am captivated by it. It is something no one around you has, and it is something I have yet to see. But I see it in you. Not only your physical beauty that rivals the ocean blue, but the inner beauty of your personality. You always manage to make me smile, even when others might think you’re being too much. Your eccentric ways of doing things inspires me so much. You really are a wonder to my world.

Pansies: You occupy my thoughts

There isn’t ever a moment where my mind isn’t thinking of you. I always think of not only the times we shared before, but the times I want to have with you. There is never a time where I look at something and think of you, even these pansies, just the sheer brightness of their color make me think of you. From the simplest things, to the things that we share a deep symbolism with. You will never not be in my head. Your smile rivals that of the shining sea. And the way your embrace feels is something I always want to be in.

Moonflowers: Dreaming of Love

Not a day goes bye where my mind isn’t swarmed with the thoughts of you and me together. The things I want to do with you makes my heart yearn for you. I want to be the one to make you smile and laugh. You light up my world with so many colors I have yet to see on my own. My nights are spent with dreamy thoughts of you and me holding hands and having cute dates with each other. But most of all, just spending forever with you. I want to spend my forever with you and you only.

— Your Dearest Y/n

After reading every word, Floyd ran out of the Monstro Lounge. He went directly too Ramshackle to find the one who sent him these flowers. Once Y/n opened the door, he enveloped them into a big hug. He was so happy that Y/n felt the same as he did.

Do not repost or translate without my explicit permission! Reblogs are welcome!

#🪸.mermaid time #🦋.A Bouquet for you My dear Event #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x gn reader #twst #twst x gn reader #floyd leech #floyd leech x gn reader #floyd x gn reader #twst floyd leech #twisted wonderland floyd #twst floyd #Hibiscus&Pansies&Moonflowers were sent #Message was recieved #100 follower event

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thxrnking · 1 year

Text

Imperfect - Chapter 5: Regret

Content warning: depiction of physical and emotional abuse from a parent, someone is grabbed by the neck and threatened, mentions of blood

[Imperfect Masterlist]

Author’s Note - Jack is 18. Wanderlust is older 18/early 19. Jack does not wear gloves yet.

----

Jack reaches across his body before spinning, dropping his foot and thrusting his hand into the air, radiating confidence. Wanderlust gently claps his hands being careful not to make too much noise. You never know who might be listening. Jack steps back slightly before bending at the waist in a slight bow.

“Much better,” The Prince wears a small black capelet over one shoulder, with a gold edge and simple detailing similar to that on the Traveler’s cloak. On his head rests a crown that his parents apparently told him to never take off, “You’ve been practising.”

Jack smiles. He has. Not as much as he wishes he could but he’s tried. Every spare moment, each brief reprieve, Jack takes a deep breath and gives in to the itching that’s tugged on his fingertips for as long as he can remember. The urge to Dance that was pushed so far down that it hadn’t even occurred to him to wonder what it was.

Every word he’s never spoken, that’s what Wanderlust had said. Jack still isn’t entirely convinced. He’s been silent for over ten years by this point. That’s a lot of words. A lot of pain and anguish that’s gone unspoken. And Dancing can supposedly help him let it all out. Still, he’ll admit that there’s something about giving in to that itch that gives Jack some peace. Like that first breath of air after hiding under the covers for too long.

“I should probably go,” Wander admits, slowly pushing himself to his feet, “She’ll no doubt be here any minute. Make sure you hide your present.”

Jack gives a slight smirk. Wander’s gift to him sits on the floor, out of the way so it won’t get trampled but still in direct sight. A black box with ornate gold detailing around the edges, and across where the lid meets the box. It’s not overly large, maybe three and a half inches by ten. A music box, it’s big enough to hold the melodic mechanism that plays when you open it, but small enough and fancy enough that it should easily blend in with the other things in Jack’s room. She’ll never even notice it.

On his feet now, Wanderlust dusts himself down.

“And think about what I said.”

Jack grimaces, but nods.

Wanderlust wants him to leave. To pack his things up and leave Swan Tower. Just go. Where? Anywhere but here. Wander swears that there are plenty of people across the Danceverse who would help him find somewhere new to live, and anything would be better than staying here.

It’s definitely something that Jack’s thought before but he doesn’t know. Swan Tower is awful, but this is his home. He’s lived here his entire life. Never been anywhere else, not even to visit. Then even if he does leave, he’s the son of the Night Swan. Who would ever want to help him?

Wanderlust raises his hand, opening a portal before turning to Jack and giving his signature bow. Jack smiles, bowing his head in return.

“Until next time.” Wander promises as he steps backwards passing through the portal.

The portal sews itself shut, revealing Mother stood in the doorway, glaring at her son. Jack freezes, a pit opening in his stomach and swallowing the joy that had been there a moment before.

Fuck.

Jack’s eyes flit to his gift without even thinking. Her cold, steely gaze follows, clocking the box and she scowls. It’s just now striking Jack how similar the gold detailing is to Wanderlust’s cape.

Oh fuck.

“I’ve told you about leaving things on the floor. Pick it up.”

She doesn’t shout, there’s no need, her voice icy and sharp as she grits her anger through a tight jaw. Jack doesn’t wait to be told again, snatching it from the floor and stepping away. He grips it tight, protectively, holding it as close to his chest as he can.

Mother moves into the room, her entrance slow, purposeful; never taking her eyes from him as she steps. She says nothing, the silence dragging through the air like nails, deliberate and meant to make him sweat. He knows what she saw. she knows what he’s done.

“You have always tested my patience, Jack. Despite my continued grace with you, you’ve always been such a...” she stops, tapping her chin thoughtfully as she searches for the word. “Disappointment.”

Jack’s fingers go white as he grips his gift tighter. He’s not a disappointment.

“Frankly I would have done something about it long ago, but there are certain lines that draw the wrong kind of attention when you cross them. Particularly when it comes to children.”

Uncrossable lines that apparently don’t include not hitting your child when he does something you don’t like. Nor isolating your child from the rest of the Danceverse. Not even the constant threat of finally making him understand how grateful he should be that you don’t beat him senseless more often than you already do.

“But not any more.”

Mother turns to him, stepping towards him as she reaches forward, her fingers curling under Jack’s chin as she tilts it upwards, exposing his neck. Jack doesn’t fight her, allowing her to guide him as her fingers brush along his jaw. She shifts dragging the tips of her metal talons down his necks.

“I could kill you now,” she tilts her head, the slightest smile teasing at the edge of her lips as her fingers pause, metal grazing the skin just above his jugular, “You’d be dead before you hit the floor and no one would care.”

Panicked, Jack tries to move but her thumb curls round his neck and she tightens her hold. The tips of the talons begin to dig into his neck, his throat tightening as she squeezes. Jack tries to keep breathing, heavy, panicked, choking a little but Mother doesn’t care, as long as he’s listening.

“You’re not innocent. You’re not a bystander in all this.” Her words are dripping with venom as she speaks, grip tight, anger growing. “You are my son!”

She spits the words in his face before drawing back, dropping her hold. Jack takes his chance, stepping back, one hand flying to his throat as he coughs and splutters. No blood; not even a scratch. A miracle since he’d seen those claws do much worse with less effort.

“Count yourself lucky that you’re of no use to me dead.”

Jack’s chest is heaving, his head thudding, adrenaline pulsing through his body. Mother doesn’t care. He’s nothing but a tool to her. A means to make her life better, as long as he does as he’s told. Without her purpose for him, she would have killed him.

The box in his hands catches the light, the gold detail glinting and Jack remembers. Mother doesn’t care, but Wanderlust does. Someone out in the Danceverse cares about him, and he’s the Prince, of all people. Mother doesn’t care, but Mother is wrong.

Determination sets on Jack’s face as he stands up again, refusing to let her see how deep her words can cut. Mother is unbothered, her eyes slowly drifting to the box again also.

“It is rather beautiful,” she admits, regarding the box with admiration. She reaches for it, holding back from actually touching it, “He has good taste.”

Seconds pound past as the two of them stand painfully close, her cruel fingers so close to touching Jack’s gift. Jack’s heart is pounding in his ears, honestly clueless what either of them might be about to do.

Eventually Mother pulls away, pinning Jack with a fierce glare before turning on her heel and heading for the door. There’s barely enough time to let free the breath Jack didn’t even realise he’s been holding, before she turns. She thrusts a hand at him unleashing a large hellish-black blast of magic straight at him.

Less than an instant. It hits. The box shatters. Thousands of pieces explode in Jack’s hands. Wood. Metal. The blast tears through the box as though it isn’t there and hits Jack square in the chest. No time to brace. No time to think. Jack hits the floor, landing on his back with a harsh thud.

Pain. Searing, blinding pain overwhelms him. Over a thousand pieces of splintered wood and hot metal make short work of his hands. So many cuts and burns, his hands have been shredded and he can feel warm liquid slowly pouring over his palms. He’s bleeding.

Mother’s shadow looms over him and Jack flinches, struggling to raise his hands to shield himself.

“Happy Birthday, Jack.”

Mother stands over him, smirking at how easily she’s re-established the status quo. Jack does as he’s told or he suffers the consequences.

For months, Jack has been dreading this day. It’s loomed on the horizon like some ominous Reaper waiting to claim him. He hadn’t known what would happen but he knew the day he turned 18 everything would change. Yet after this afternoon with Wanderlust, Dancing, talking, smiling, Jack had managed to convince himself he was overreacting.

Oh, he was so wrong.

Mother leaves without another word.

There’s no sound in her absence but the weight of his breaths. None of them give him relief. They catch in his throat and Jack coughs, blood spilling from his mouth. Sharp pain is shooting up and down his arms that are quickly going numb. He tries to hold his hands still but they shake, no matter how hard he tries. Tears build, his vision blurring before they spill unwanted from the corner of his pained, panicked eyes as he silently sobs.

No one hears.

No one sees.

Jack Rose is alone.

#Just Dance 2023 #Just Dance #Jack Rose #Wanderlust #Night Swan #Jacklust #slow burn #cw: blood #tw: blood #Legacy of the Thorn King #LotTK: Imperfect

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miamicommune · 2 years

Text

fucking so sick of surviving

#i feel cursed #every fucking day i don't do shit and somehow feel more and more tired more and more stressed #ive always been a pretty angry person but i fully internalise it bc i don't want to upset anyone #but rn im getting more and more angry at myself and everything around me and im getting more and more intrusive thoughts #every time i pick up anything even slightly sharp or pointed the urge to just gouge out my own eyes just gets stronger #god why couldn't i have just died #im so tired and miserable all of the time #therapy can't help me it literally never has before #and i don't trust myself on antidepressants bc let's be honest id just try and off myself again #and everyone would get mad at me and itdm ake people miserable #god that's all i do #make people angry and miserable #it'd be better for me to just do it one more time so nobody has to put up with it for the rest of their lives #god #god why is any of this happening to me #cw eye trauma #cw sui

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kitmoas · 3 years

Text

Pining and Anticipation

Summary: Wanda really likes you in red.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Genre: Smutty plot ig lol

Word Count: 2516

Warnings: Mommy kink, magic play

*As usual let me know if I missed anything*

A/N: Hey look, you and Wanda have sex for the first time! Fun times lol Slightly inspired by Dress by Taylor Swift

This is installation part 3 of the Devil AU

**Minors DNI** **18+**

Your reflection stares dully back at you, and you can feel the judgment radiating from the mirror. The tight black dress barely leaves anything to the imagination, but you have to admit to yourself that it makes you look good. The Stark party tonight was a good cover to buy the outrageously expensive piece of clothing, but your mind was on one thing only.

“Y/N! Let’s go! You’re taking longer than Yelena and Kate combined, and that’s saying something!” Peter’s voice is loud and pitiful as he bangs on the door, “Come on, I need you to tie my tie and the others are laughing at me.”

Sighing and turning to open the door, you spot a disheveled Peter leaning against the frame with the other two cackling in the background. “Be nice you dipshits.” You bring Peter closer to you by the collar of his shirt and start fixing his messy appearance. “One day we’ll fully teach you how to dress for these parties. We might all not be here together for every one of them in the future.”

Giving Peter a quick look before approving him, you begin urging the rest out of your designated wing. “Wait, what is this dip of shit you say that I am, Y/N Y/L/N?”

By the time that the four of you make it to the party room, the guests are loud and dancing. Your eyes immediately scan the rambunctious crowd, looking for the person of interest tonight. Missing the way that your three best friends watch you curiously, your eyes light up dangerously when the Sokovian comes into your view. She looks breath-taking in a bright red dress. She’s making her way to the bar and you dart around a few crowds so that you slide up next to her.

“Hello Y/N, fancy meeting you here.” Natasha is behind the bar, staring at you with a raised eyebrow. “What can I get you?”

Glancing at Wanda you can see her struggle to not look at you, but you also notice something different in the way that she looks at Natasha. “Just a soda, please.” The brunette’s eyes light up again, just as they did that first night.

“Your usual Maximoff or would you like to try something a little more new? Fresh?” Natasha’s tone is pointed and taunting, but your focus is on Wanda by now. Your eyes are stuck to her sharp jaw as she clenches it. The witch doesn’t say anything, but her fingers are tapping impatiently at the mahogany wood bar. You watch as her hand flexes to pick up the glass, and a dismissive noise breaks you of your trance.

Natasha is gone by the time Wanda finally says anything. “Good evening Великолепный. I would love to stay and talk to you, but I am being called to deal with some press.” She’s all serious and you can see her struggling to not run her eyes down your body. She watches you slowly nod, and you can feel her eyes on you as you turn around to go find Kate or someone.

The rest of the night goes like this, Wanda’s eyes following you as you are dragged around by your best friends, fangirling with lower level agents over your favorite Avenger stories. You catch Natasha’s teasing glances a few different times as well but your confusion ends quickly every time you catch Wanda’s intense watching. She’s putting thoughts in your mind, you know she is. Normally you don’t think of her hands on you in such a sinful way, nor do you think about her mouth on you; but tonight you can’t get the thoughts out of your mind. You bought the dress to get her attention, and now you have it.

You’ve been with a couple girls before, but you are by no means experienced and the age difference is starting to get to you a little. You feel nervous and you can’t help but wonder how this night was going to end. It’s a few hours into the party and you had just left a small group when you felt the magic settled onto your wrist. Spinning around, Wanda’s staring you down intensely.

The Sokovian says nothing, a small smirk on her lips, turning and walking away. You follow her with no hesitation, assuming she’s expecting you to follow. Her curled hair is bouncing and her hips are swaying slowly, like she wants you to be memorized by them. She leads you to the wing you know holds her own room, which you have yet to be in. When she opens the door for you, you’re struck by a soft strawberry smell.

You’re leaning on the desk, looking at Wanda as she relaxes on the white sheets almost looking like she’s there for a photoshoot. Neither of you have said anything since you got to her room, but her deep forest green eyes seem to scrutinize your every move. Wanda doesn’t seem bothered by the deafening silence, but you’re beginning to fidget as your body starts to react to her intense stare. Smog begins to flow down the walls, leaking from the floor above, a clear sign of the anxiety flowing through your veins. Her low chuckle sends a shiver through your body, and you’re suddenly extremely aware of your own arousal. You want her to touch you, to take the dress off. You aren’t patient enough for whatever game she wants to play. “Wan-”

She tilts her head, silencing you, a reprimanding eyebrow raised, and daring you to continue. The red that dances with the black fog now on the ground makes your brain hazy, and it’s hard to focus on anything other than the fire that travels into your body. Her fingers are lazily waving through the air, crimson flowing through your own shadows. Her tone is dark when she finally speaks, “It’s Mommy to you, detka.”

You choke on air and your brain gets even more crazy. Did you hear her correctly? Mommy? You weren’t sure if you were interested in calling her mommy, it just wasn’t something you ever did before. Stuck in your own head, you weren’t aware of the devil’s mist reaching you nor were you aware of it wrapping around you. The thoughts vanish from your mind, and the only thing left there is the feeling of the magic rushing you forward. “Fuck Mommy..”

The witch’s eyes light up at your whimper, and the crimson in the room becomes brighter. “Your thoughts have been so loud all night, did you want something princess?” You can feel her magic trailing over your body, slipping under the skin tight dress. You can’t tear your eyes away from how her hand flexes and moves, playing with her magic; playing with you. She’s standing now, and you take notice that you’re at eye level with her due to the magic making you float.

The darkness around you is intense, but you realize you’re losing control of the shadows as Wanda’s magic overwhelms you. She’s so close to you, but she won’t touch you. You crave her warmth, you need her touch. “Please, please just touch me. Please Mommy.”

Your eyes are closed as the red mist fills your body, brighter than the usual jet black. Your body is trembling and you can feel the slick coating your thighs, but you can’t move. The dress is sliding to the floor, and you can’t stop the gasp that leaves your lips when you are laid on the bed; overwhelmed by the strong smell of Wanda.

“You look so pretty on my bed, detka. Spread out for me, wrapped up in my magic.” Her voice is low and the rasp makes you clench around nothing. Your body is reacting on its own now, and you feel like you can’t keep up with the feelings. The magic has trailed over your covered center, gently applying pressure to your aching clit.

You want to moan, beg, but when you open your mouth the mist settles around your throat. A strangled noise still makes its way out, and a disappointed noise is heard above you. You can feel the magic slipping the ruined panties off, and the bra is torn roughly off your body. It feels like she’s taken control of your entire body, and your brain is going way too fast. You can’t breathe anymore, even though the magic had left your throat, and you aren’t sure why but the darkness is starting to take over the red again.

Two fingers grip your chin, your eyes snap open to look at the witch that is straddling you right now. The pressure of her body was immediate and all your bad thoughts stopped. The cold of her many rings against your overheating body startles you, but focuses your trailing mind. “The only thoughts going through your mind should be my name and begging to cum, understood princess?” You open your mouth to answer, but she slides two fingers into your mouth. The taste of her skin is intoxicating and you can’t help the moan that tears out of your mouth. She clicks her tongue, taunting and full of disapproval. “No words, no noises. Be Mommy’s good girl and be quiet. Let me take care of you.” Her red eyes are twinkling with delight as she watches you subconsciously suck on her fingers.

She lets you continue to suck on her fingers, tapping her rings on your teeth randomly to see you flinch. Her entire focus is on you, making you squirm underneath her. The shadows are low and settled as you feel Wanda’s magic get stronger. The red mist is spreading across your body, and it's forcing your black energy to settle. The darkness leaks out of your body, but you can’t seem to care as Wanda slowly fucks your mouth with her fingers. She’s snickering down at you, but the tone doesn’t quite have the same effect as she may want because you can feel her wetness through her panties. You try to move to touch her, feel her, but her magic holds you down.

It’s intoxicating and you know you’re making a mess of her sheets, clenching around the bits of magic. You feel embarrassed by how close you already are, but she grinds down onto you with purpose and you can’t help but feel better. You made Wanda feel like this, and it’s the first time you see her lose a little bit of control.

The magic is rushing through your veins, and pushing you closer to the edge; but you can barely focus on your own pleasure as you watch Wanda’s hips stutter. Her fingers are sliding deeper into your mouth each time she moans, and you can’t help but whimper each time. You can’t speak but your thoughts are screaming, you want her to cum. A bright flash of red is all you see before you’re forced over the edge, a muffled scream rips from your throat. The witch’s magic doesn’t stop, only moving with more vigor.

You can barely breathe and the bright red is blinding, but you open your eyes just in time to see Wanda’s head thrown back as her orgasm hits her. The moment her moans make it into your thoughts, you’re clenching around the restless magic. You weren’t sure where your head went, but you’re struggling to catch your breath when you're dragged over the edge again. Your vision is completely blurred and the fingers that were once in your mouth have wrapped around your throat, effectively cutting off all your oxygen. The sheets are soaked beneath you and you can feel Wanda’s wetness dripping down your bare stomach. The auburn mist that filled you leaves you gaping and miserably empty when it dissipates with no notice, successfully ending your high short.

Wanda is looking down at you, a soft but conflicted look in her eyes. You can feel her thumb rubbing your cheek, and you lean some into the touch. Slowly you open your eyes, willing for the soft feeling to stay for as long as possible. Meeting her gaze, the distress on the older woman’s face is like ice on your body, and you immediately feel wrong. You want to ask her what’s wrong, you want to do anything that you can to fix it, the look in her eyes is worryingly devastating to you after the time you two just had.

She just shakes her head, hearing your thoughts, a bitter smile plastered on her face. Damn, you need to learn to think quieter. The witch leans down and leaves a single kiss on your forehead. The feeling of her lips on your skin is like a shot to the heart, and a shot of tequila all at once, and your body immediately craves it again even though it hasn’t ended yet. Pushing your head up, you lean as much as you can into the gentle feel of Wanda’s lips wanting to memorize the feeling. The last thing you remember is the shaky breath against your skin before you’re overcome by a darkness that you cannot control.

You wake up in your own cold empty bed, and your memory is shaky and hazy. You know you were with Wanda, and you think you guys had sex but the details aren’t there. You rush into the common room, looking for Wanda but you only see a grim Natasha who gives you a warning look. “Don’t kid, just drop it.”

You want to open your mouth to disagree, you want answers. Why can’t you remember what happened? Was it all just a dark twisted dream that sealed your destiny of never being anything to the witch who had you in her never ending spell? Your heart beat is shallow and the world around you feels fake, the air stinging your skin as you spin around. You hear a somber hum from the ginger behind you and it burns in your mind, swirling around with the confusion and anxiety.

The walk back to your room feels fabricated and you can’t get your mind wrapped around anything, every thought feels forced and like someone else put it there. You don’t hear anyone else so you know it’s still early, the lack of chaos coming from your friends’ room strikes a sad chord in your heart. Deciding to go back to sleep, you stop at the foot of your bed and you can’t bring yourself to slide under the gray sheets. They seem lifeless and doleful, the idea of even trying to lay there causes your eyes to tear up and you head to the hanging egg chair in the corner of your room. The moment your body settles, your eyes slip closed at their own accord and the grip of sleep drags you closer to unconsciousness but it still all seems fake. There’s no time to question it because there in the darkness you feel her lips, once more, on your forehead before sliding into the depths of sleep.

Requested tag list: @tastetherambeau @xxxtwilightaxelxxx

@8bitscarlet (cause now you're stuck on this list)

Main story line: One, Two, Four, ?

Drabbles: One, Two

#kitmoas writes #k: like a devil #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #marvel wlw #marvel fanfiction #marvel smut

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lupically · 4 years

Text

#FFF8EA | XIAO.

genre | fluff

word count | 2233

warning | mention of falling off a moutain

note | i just have some ideas for xiao...

"the yaksha is fond of you."

madame ping was no stranger to you. the kind old lady roaming around yujing terrace, often seen admiring flowers or brewing a cup of hot tea, was someone you come across every afternoon after school when you head to the censor to make a wish to rex lapis.

the conversation you two have had always been brief, mainly because you were always in a hurry to get to work. she never minded your urgency, blissfully talking about how fast-paced and active young people these days are, and simply being happy that you even stopped to let her hand you some glazed lilies from time to time.

interestingly, though, she stopped giving you glazed lilies after a while and began handing you some pretty qingxin instead.

you never questioned it. it was just flowers. you could live without being gifted only one kind of them for the rest of your life. but after today's incident—after the burning down of your school located just outside the city, as well as what madame ping told you with hearty laughter laced in her voice, you were starting to think the switch to qingxin meant something.

"the yaksha is fond of you."

you tightened your hands around the weak strap of your school bag, made out of bamboo after lots of trials and errors, and you tilted your head with increasingly furrowing brows.

"pardon me, the what is fond of me?"

"the yaksha, my dear."

you stared at her. the corner of your lips was quirking up in confused twitches, and she could see that you were fiddling uncomfortably on your spot because you truly have no idea what she was talking about. it was not because of the history of the yaksha that might have made you feel jittery and out of place, you simply had no idea!

madame ping smiled even harder at your innocent oblivion then. how could you have such ample knowledge of rex lapis and the adepti, but nothing about the yaksha? especially the one with his mark, a jade green glow surrounding you like fireflies, all over your aura?

maybe that was why xiao chose you.

or, at least, it was one of the reasons why he liked you.

it was because you knew nothing of him. you never think about him, you never talk about him, and you would never suspect the string of random good luck and trails of safe travels that have been following you around.

while it must be tearing him down on the inside; the fact that he wasn't being able to approach the one person who made his good deeds a choice rather than an order. it must be plaguing his mind and patience every day.

but, even then, your surprising lack of information about his identity does save him the pressure of being chased down by you.

it saves him the problem of being even further attached to you. it was already pressing on his breaking point when he went out of his way to watch over you, leaving trails of his magic over your mortal soul to keep you safe when he was busy. any further interaction would be disastrous.

logically, he knew he would fall for you, so he was doing preventive measures. he has to keep his chest sealed so his heart wouldn't jump toward you involuntarily; he has to keep his chest sealed so you couldn't see all the mess inside.

"oh, sweet child," madame ping cooed as she walked toward you. she whispered to herself, "you're being protected by an adeptus and you don't even know."

she brought up a qingxin from her pocket, the petals slightly wrinkled from the confined space. she tucked it carefully in the pocket of your shirt before patting the bloomed flower, almost as if she was reminiscing.

"this is his flower," she said.

you hummed, looking down at it. "this is his favorite flower?"

"i'm not sure about his favorite flower, but this is his flower," she replied casually.

you pursed your lips together. well, at least now you knew the qingxin did have something to do with the... yaksha... or whatever.

"madame ping... may i ask–"

"you can find him at qingyun peak," she cut you off calmly. "during the lantern festival. he is always there during the festival. it was for the quiet, he said, that old man."

you shut your mouth, surprised that she knew what you wanted to ask. "uh... qingyun peak... is kind of... a big place..."

"you will find him if he wants to see you," she said. "you can speak his name–xiao. he might not show himself to you, but if you have something to say, he's likely there to listen."

qingyun peak. the lantern festival. the yaksha.

right.

that was how you found yourself bearing the freezing night cold with just a thin shirt and a ragged fabric wrapped and tied around your torso, your hands hurting from grabbing sharp edges and rough rocks, and your anxiety increasing with every jump that not only would the almond tofu in your bag fall, but you would as well.

as opposed to watching xinyan play for the lantern festival, being warm and cozy from the warm city lights and the tasty street food, and maybe even letting go of a lantern yourself after making a wish, you were here. you were alone, climbing mountains for a chance.

all for a random boy madame ping told you about! someone who was supposedly fond of you—if this xiao guy was so fond of you, he would have shown himself the first three times you called his name at the bottom of the mountain!

"fond of me–what a joke," you said through gritted teeth as you hoisted yourself up on a small ledge. "i'm going to kick his ass so hard when i find him."

you let yourself pant for a minute, regaining your stamina as you groggily accessed the higher peaks above you. your eyes squinted in dismay, but something inside you—the curiosity for the truth, as well as the longing for a friend, also the anger for playful revenge—urged you to keep going.

"he better eats the almond tofu i made," you muttered to yourself as you moved closer to the mountain. "i even picked some flowers... for him."

jump after jump, you were close to making it to the second ledge when suddenly, a slime jumped and appeared above you. it looked surprised, mirroring your expression, and as it prepared itself to attack you after seeing your hands move, it stopped when it saw you fumble about in the air before you began to fall further away from itself.

you had let yourself go. out of surprise, and an instinct to grab a weapon, your hands moved away from the edge and you fell.

your mind raced as the wind hit your face, your falling body heavy against the current that desperately tried to take you up from the ledge you just climbed up from. you would surely die from the impact if you drop. even without dropping down to the bottom, you would still suffer from a painful death.

was there something to do? how did this happen, you were doing fine! what should you do, what could you do? you were falling already—what was there to do now? anything, something?

"i–archons–" you heaved with the cold air, your lungs squeezing inside you with fear as tears began to drip out of your eyes.

anything? anybody?

xiao?

"you can speak his name. he might not show himself to you, but if you have something to say, he's likely there to listen."

"xi–" your voice broke for a millisecond when you could see the green grass approaching quickly. you squeezed your eyes shut, and your voice was louder than you have ever allowed it to be.

you called his name, loud and clear.

the first thing you felt was a lightning strike. you opened your eyes at the electric feeling to find a flash of green. it was bright, close and bright, in a way that was blinding. but then the tail broke into gentle fragments as a pair of arms circled your body to catch you from the fall.

one arm went around your waist, the other hand securely tightened itself around the back of your neck to keep it from breaking from the impact of his fast landing.

xiao growled under his breath when his feet struck the ground in a heavy blow. he pushed your head to his shoulder, shielding your face away from the soil that bounced upward as a result.

quietness ensued after a moment of calm. you took the moment to access the situation—you were fine. someone, likely xiao, saved you from the fall. you were fine.

he dropped onto the ground, sitting on the cold grass with your body pressed close to his, when he heard that you began to sob from the accident.

despite feeling awkward and unsure, he kept quiet and let you vent out the post-accident fear so you could slowly bring in the relief that you were still alive. but his quietness was unwelcomed when you suddenly curled your fist and hit him across the shoulder.

"screw you! why didn't you just answer me when i–when i was at the bottom of the moun–mountain! screw you!"

you blamed him and you hit his shoulder repeatedly. your weak fist was nothing compared to the pain he has endured in the past, but your cries cut through him like glass in the most seamless pattern when he realized he was part of the reason why you had to go through that traumatic experience.

if he had just jumped down from the peak when he heard you the first time, this would not have happened.

xiao looked at the empty spot before him. his golden eyes glowed with a softness that has long fallen into the abyss, forever gone and forever abandoned. but he brought it back out now because he cares about you, and he is, ultimately, attached to you, and he loves you.

"you're right," he said, holding you close to him. "i'm sorry."

ever since you discreetly left the almond tofu on the roof of the wangshu inn, your shy figure hunched over in an apologizing manner because you were told that you were giving food to an important, albeit weird, guest, and your blissfully ignorant words of encouragement as you told him to go out and explore the world, to give it a chance so he could find people he would like.

ever since then, he has loved you, in fragile and discreet ways, in unwavering and patient ways, in protective and caring ways.

"i love you, i'm sorry."

you stopped sobbing almost immediately, and he was afraid he might have said the wrong thing.

wasn't it what he was supposed to do? verr told him to speak his mind once. just be truthful with his feelings and nothing could go wrong. was he not supposed to show his affection blatantly, as he would his complaints and opinions?

"that... that is going a little too fast for me, xiao," you joked. "let's settle with appreciating each other for now."

he heard you laugh, causing the weight of his heart to drop, like finding lights in a fog, like seeing the lanterns in the night sky and realizing that there are more people alive with you than you think.

"thank you, for saving me," you said kindly then, your fist long stopped hitting him and was now patting his shoulder.

"always."

“but burning my school down is not the best approach for... whatever it was you were trying to help me with.”

xiao blinked in confusion, then realization hit him. he almost forgot about that! he was, shockingly, dwelling in the prideful fact that because he literally destroyed the building, you would be free of school for the day, and therefore not having to face all the hardships inside the walls he could not venture past. he thought it was the best thing to do, second to beating up everyone, which he politely opposed to.

“i am not sorry about that,” he muttered. “it was what i thought was best.”

he could feel you grin in his embrace. your laughter reverberated in the air, making his magic glow around you both. it was like nothing he has felt before. he wanted to stay like this—in this position where you were engulfed by him, where he could surround you with himself instead of the fireflies of green he has left behind, where he was with you in a way it was entire, in a way he could feel your beating heart against his own.

you are pressing onto his breaking point.

you are going to open him up, see him whole, and renovate his insides to your will. you are going to take his heart from his chest, breaking through his ribcage made feeble from his sheer affection for you, and claim it as your own. you are going to make him love, like sharp knives, like soft breaths, like tragic past, like warm blood, you are going to make him love.

you are pressing onto his breaking point.

and xiao lets you.

because you will be worth the tragedy, you will be worth everything.

#genshin x reader #genshin imagines #xiao x reader #genshin impact xiao #genshin impact imagines #genshin x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin xiao #genshin xiao x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact #xiao imagines #xiao x you #xiao scenarios #genshin scenarios #genshin impact scenarios

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yoongsisbae · 3 years

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Caught! House of Cards - Chapter 3

You joined a website to make some quick and easy cash. Men paying to look at you, harmless fun, right? Little did you know how dangerous the members of House of Cards were. Watch out! Houses built with cards come tumbling down…

OT7 yandere!BTS x reader / Namjoon x Taehyung x reader this chapter

Oh, I was dying writing this chapter so I think I wrote it well? Heh there’s a lot going on, so you have been warned lol. Also hope to post HOAL soon, that is if BTS would stop attacking me with all these sexy bad boy photoshoots that scream C!HOC mens. Sorry, but can you really blame me? :(

Warnings: 18+ dark themes, reader manipulation, scary yandere behavior, voyeur, masturbation, lots of drinking and drunkenness, dubcon, dry humping on the dance floor lol, this is pretty filthy, all of them are horny, dom!Namjoon, dom!Taehyung, Tae’s a lot, shibari, bondage, blindfold, rough sex, edging, multiple orgasms, threesome, degradation, Yoongi continues to be a meanie, slut shaming, extreme regret for reader that could be triggering I think, tell me if I need to tag anything else

PSA: to reiterate, this is a yandere fic, this is all fantasy, this is scary, no one actually wants this to happen to them irl. But I’m also here for you if you wanna enjoy some hot fictional villains, alright? I got u boo.

Word Count: 8.7k

Playlist: Rotimi - Push Button Start // Shenseea - Blessed (with Tyga) // ROSALIA - Con Altura // Sean Paul - Go Down Deh // Afro B - Drogba // Aya Nakamura - Pookie // DJ Nelson - PAPI //J Balvin - Amarillo // SUPA NYTRO - Tik Pon Cock // Paris Lain - Way (links here)

---

“P-please...”

“Please what?”

“Please let me cum, Daddy.”

He groans in your ear. “Hmm no.” He pulls his fingers out of you, you hold onto the banister as your orgasm escapes you. Your body shakes with need.

“You’ll come find me later tonight, won’t you, baby girl?” His warmth leaves your body, when you turn around no one is there.

---

Your legs are still shaking as you make your way downstairs. You tried not to think about the slick between your thighs as you descended each step, or think about RM’s warm breath against your ear. No, you won’t think about his deep voice that makes you shiver still, or the way he massaged your neck like he had done it a hundred times before...out of all the weird fucked up things you thought could happen tonight, never ever did you expect to meet RM again.

He reminded you of all the reasons why you allowed yourself to fall deeper into that kind of exhibitionistic lifestyle as a carded member. The money was good, but the sweetest rewards were corporal. The saccharine praise your admirers would give you became addicting. You even became close to some of them, for an extra fee.

What was it your old school counselor would say? It wasn’t about the destination, the real reward was the friends you made along the way. Except your new friends told you all their dirty filthy desires and watched as you would get off for them. You learned quickly your sexual appetite was ravenous, the more you indulged the worse it got. You had been starved for attention for so long, quarantine only amplifying your loneliness, and the dark site fed you well.

RM also reminded you of all the reasons why you left. You still don’t understand how you fell so deep so fast, let digital become physical when you promised yourself you wouldn’t. The House Rules made the descent into filth almost inevitable. During your only experience inside The House, you had been shown truths you didn’t want to face, depravities you enjoyed. After that night you went home, showered away your sins until your skin burned, logged out and never logged back in. It was the best way to end your addiction to House of Cards, end it cold turkey.

You were not prepared for this again. You were not prepared for how much you craved it.

---

The party became wild. Your body now hyper aware of everything after RM worked you up so skillfully and denied you any release. The music reverberates throughout the halls, the beats of the bass clashes with the pounding in your head. The smell of drugs and sex assaults your nostrils, and every time a dancer bumps into you, your body remembers RM’s touch.

So many bodies around you and you feel all alone like an outcast. Where’s Yoongi? You're beginning to miss that annoying smirk and the overconfident man attached to it, you could use some of that confidence right now.

As the room spins around you, your eyes find the place where you had been standing. You’re disappointed it’s empty. Not that you knew what RM looked like, but you feel like you’d recognize him as soon as you saw him, a man like that would look like walking sin.

You shift your upward gaze to the gold ropes hanging from the ceiling, eyes traveling down until you meet the glistening body of a woman. She’s so beautiful it makes you ache, arms secured behind her back, her leg extended and tied high, her other leg bent and pressed to her side and her spread open for everyone to see.

You play with the pendant around your neck, and you can’t help but imagine yourself in her position, tied up for everyone to see, for Yoongi to watch. You’re soaking. You need a drink.

---

“Hey,” you bump into Yoongi’s side as you sit down, grabbing his whisky glass and downing what’s left. The burning liquid makes you grimace, face scrunching up in distaste.

He pulls the glass from your grip, looking you up and down, sharp eyes narrowing, “Where have you been?”

“I got lost.” His arm snakes around your waist. His touch feels good, you don’t want to admit how much your body yearns for more, wants to be wanted. “Where are Jimin and Hobi?”

“Dancing,” Taehyung interjects as he gets closer to you, offering you another glass of champagne. You take it gratefully, sipping on the sweet liquid, anything to numb the ache you feel inside.

His eyes sparkle as he scrutinizes you up close, examining your dark makeup and tight dress. He wants to smear the red lipstick on your lips with his fingers, and his mouth, and his cock. He wants to stain your pretty black dress with his cum, let the milky white fluid drip all over the black silky fabric, between your breasts-

“I’m sorry, what is your name again?”

You ask him so innocently, Taehyung can forgive you for forgetting. Jungkook on the other hand, silently simmers with rage, especially when Yoongi smirks at him, sitting pressed to your side like a lover would.

“Taehyung,” The man gives you a big wide smile, “that's Seokjin,” he points to the tall man who keeps his distance, “and this,” he hits Jungkook’s chest and pulls him into a headlock, “is Jungkook!” Taehyung leans in to whisper in your ear, “a big fan.”

Your eyes go wide, did you hear him correctly? You watch the two play fight. Jungkook punches his older friend in the side a bit harder than he was expecting, earning a yell from Taehyung. They act cute, you think, Jungkook looks too innocent, you can’t believe he had watched you in his free time.

Hoseok and Jimin find their way back into the group. “Y/n, you’re back! Yoongi was about to send out a search party for you.” Yoongi rolls his eyes, and you lean your chin onto your palm, raising your eyebrows at him, trying to hide your smile at the way they tease him.

“Is that so?” His fingers pinch the flesh of your back at your retort, making you squirm at the ticklish sensation. When you try to pull his hand away, he takes the opportunity to intertwine your fingers together, pulling you firmly to his side.

You look down at Yoongi’s hand in yours, resting on your hip. Without the alcohol cursing through your veins you might have pushed him off you, but instead you sit buzzed and docile. He acts so possessive of you in front of the others, it makes your heart race. “Well I’m here now.”

“I’ll cheers to that!” Jimin fills everyone’s drinks. 7 glasses clang together and they cheer, making you giggle as you down the glass. One cheers becomes two, and then another bottle comes, until you're welcoming back that hazed state of mind that feels so freeing. The background fades away and the booming music around you becomes muffled as you try your best to focus on the conversation, until you realize you’re in Yoongi’s lap, his veiny hands dancing around your exposed thigh. He says something you can’t hear, so you tilt your head back, resting on his shoulder, whining out a slurred, “what!”

“You’re having too much fun.” He suppresses the urge to move his fingers higher, instead tracing lazy circles into your leg, making you twist in his lap, lips parting as you enjoy the sensation. Your body feels heavy from inebriation, so you lean your weight onto him more, focused on his cold rings against your warm skin.

You move your head closer to his. “You wanted to bring me here, right?” you laugh, and you swivel your body against him, grinding into his lap to the tempo of the music. Yoongi notices the others' heated stares, so he shifts his leg, pressing his hands into your thighs, opening your legs wider, and you’re too drunk to notice or care.

Yoongi tries to hold onto his thinning composure, how many times had he thought of you like this? So receptive and needy in his arms. He enjoys your torturous hip rolls, reveling in the fact that the sight tortures his audience even more. But you’re not really paying attention to that, your body only responding to how the music beat hits so well, his growing erection encouraging you to keep rubbing up against him like a cat in heat.

“Y/n, let's go dance!” Hoseok calls out to you over the music. His request pulls you from your trance. You sit up, shaking the clouded haze from your mind.

“Dance? Okay!” You let Hoseok pull you to your feet, stumbling slightly into him.

You turn to Yoongi, “You don’t mind, do you?” you ask, ready to start a fight. He glares at you. You sway on your feet and glare back. Such a brat, he thinks, you’ll just have to be taught a lesson later. Yoongi picks up his whisky and waves you off.

---

The dance floor is hot and alive with writhing bodies. You let Hoseok roll his hips into you from behind, your own hips following his movements. His toned arms lock around you, holding you, as he pulls your body lower and lower, until you’re crouched to the floor, your bodies connecting again and again as he rubs his hardening bulge into your ass to the beat.

It feels so so good, his warm body on you, seeking pleasure from one another. Every roll and buck helps to release the frustration RM did to you.

Hoseok’s hands pull your dress higher so you can spread your knees wider. He holds the bunched up fabric to your core to keep what’s left of your modesty, and your arms reach behind you to hook around his neck to keep yourself steady.

Hoseok is such a good dancer, masterfully guiding your loose body. You pull and push each other along to the sensual music, shifting your weight against your combined center of gravity as your bodies heat up in each other’s embrace.

Hoseok moves the hair from your neck away, blowing air on the back of your neck. His hand cups your breast, fondling you out in the open, “You like when I do this to you, don’t you Dahlia?” You’re too drunk to catch the pseudonym he uses.

You close your eyes focusing on his hands groping your body, your fingers fisting into his hair, pulling him closer, and his tongue licks off the sweat on your neck. Hoseok knows all the ways to leave you delirious with lust, hands running up and down your body, massaging your curves and leading your hips to meet his. If he’s making you feel this good with your clothes on, you can only imagine how amazing he’d be in bed, hips rolling against you as he fills you up with his stiff cock...

You’re so focused on Hoseok you don’t realize another body moving closer to you, another pair of hands on you, until Taehyung presses himself into your front.

The music fills your head, the dirty words being sung encouraging you to release all your inhibitions. Your arms reach out to run up Taehyung’s abdomen, up and up his chest, loving the feel of his muscles under your fingers.

He places your arms around his neck as he moves forward, his leg slotting between yours. With Hoseok grinding against your back and Taehyung rubbing against your front, you feel like you’re going to combust. The crowd around you is a blur, but everything about them feels so solid, so hard against you. Caged between them, you submit to every caress, every touch from both men.

Taehyung holds the back of your head to keep your eyes on him as Hoseok leaves open mouth kisses on your shoulder. Taehyung’s thumb caresses your cheek, “You’re so beautiful.” his mouth slides across your jaw, under your ear, licking and nibbling at your lobe, giving you goosebumps, “You’re the most beautiful woman here.”

You place your finger over his mouth pushing him away, too embarrassed to hear more, but your hips can’t help but push into him at the praise.

“Come with me,” he pulls you away from Hoseok, his friend winking at him behind your back, and you foolishly follow him through the sea of dancing bodies.

---

Pulling you into a dark corner, he cages you in before you can protest. Lips finding your neck, hooking a finger under your choker, pulling up, forcing your neck to tilt so he can reach more skin. Even if you want more, you still have some sense left in you to know letting Yoongi’s friend do this to you in front of everyone is a bad idea. “W-wait. Yoongi will-”

Taehyung’s arm slams into the wall. The noise startles you into silence. It’s Yoongi, always Yoongi. What about him? He steadies his breathing after noticing your wide eyes.

“Y/n, do you know who I am?” He leans onto the wall hovering over you, dark eyes peering down at you as he waits for your answer.

You feel your stomach drop under his intimidating gaze. “Should I know who you are?”

He answers your question with another question, “Do you know who Yoongi is? Do you really have no idea?” His interrogation takes you aback.

“He’s one of my...v-viewers...”

“Yes, who? You never thought to ask, baby?” Taehyung looks at you so accusingly, you feel ashamed that you can’t answer him.

“Who is he?” You ask.

He smiles, a twisted grin that makes you feel uneasy. Eyes lighting up darkly once his suspicions were proved right.

“How about this, since we both have so many unanswered questions, why don’t we play a game? I’ll answer one of your questions and then you answer one of mine. I’ll even let you go first.” His playful demeanor is back, fingers playing with the ends of your hair.

“Who are you?”

Taehyung smiles wide. You asked the right question. “I go by V.”

What? “You’re V?”

---

You log into the House of Cards website, open your account to a litany of unread messages. Your eyes skim through them, and one catches your eye. It’s V, the second highest donator from the other night’s stream.

V: you looked so beautiful the other night. I hope to see another broadcast soon...for next time?

V sent you an eighty dollar donation and a link to a lingerie set: pink lace, a sheer see-through pattern on the cups with a matching lace thong and garter belt.

You’ve bought lingerie for men before, for then boyfriends on your anniversaries or Valentine’s day dates, but you’ve never had a man buy you lingerie before. With shipping you’ll still have money left over, so you decide to add some more things in your basket to surprise him for being such a generous donor. It’s not because you had enjoyed his compliments the most during your stream, no. You found a cute pair of thigh high socks and some stick on rhinestones, coming up with a plan to get V’s attention. You squeal once the order goes through, ‘time to arts and craft in this bitch.’

You open his message again, fingers hovering over the keyboard, what should you say? Should you make it sound sexy or cute? ‘C’mon y/n, just flirt.’

Dahlia: Thank you, V. I will wear it for my next broadcast. Just for you sexy <3

Ew ew. No. Before pressing enter you delete the last sentence.

Dahlia: Thank you, V. I will wear it for my next broadcast. See you soon ;)

You go through all your messages, in a much better mood than you’ve been in a long time. You bop your head to the music that flows through your speakers in your living room while coming up with different replies to each new viewer.

It feels good to be stress free, you think, while sipping on cup ramen because you’re still waiting until your earnings clear your account to buy groceries. You’ve managed to answer every message when a new notification dings. V attached a picture.

V: I can’t wait.

Holy... A picture of a shirtless man from the neck down pops up. He’s not overly muscular, but he’s lean and toned, with defined pecs and v-line. Mmm. ‘V’ indeed. His jeans are unbuttoned. His legs spread wide, as if he were inviting you to sit on his lap.

You’re being catfished, you surmise. This man has to be using someone else’s pictures. Or he has a face only a mother could love. Either way, you’ll play with this fantasy. it’s not like you’ll actually ever meet in real life.

So you decide to play along, it’s not like you had work to go to, or anything to do really. Locked up in your tiny home alone and slowly going stir crazy would lead to some unfortunate decisions for you. One of the worst, allowing V to get so close to you.

Abandoning your snacks, you grab your laptop and run to the bedroom, jumping on your bed. Your laptop opens to another risque photo, his jeans zipped even lower. Hand grabbing a very defined bulge resting inside his pants leg. Well fuck.

Dahlia: is that really you?

V: yes baby

V: I wish you were here with me right now. I would make you feel so good, just like you deserve.

V: How about you, am I turning you on?

You clench your legs together instinctively.

Dahlia: you are.

V: are you touching yourself?

Should you lie? You could. But the pictures and his words are doing something to you, you feel jitters and a quick pace and a throbbing core. Suddenly you have an idea.

Dahlia: why don’t you see for yourself?

You create a private room, aim your camera down, mirroring the same angle in V’s picture and send the link to him. You pull the front of your sundress down to show more cleavage and the hem up to show more leg, and you wait.

There’s a notification: ‘1 new viewer.’

V: you look so pretty, you look like a doll

V: I wish I was there.

“Yeah? What would you do to me?”

V: I would spread your legs

You spread your legs at his words. Your stream plays in Taehyung's bedroom, he watches intently, and when your panties come into view he pulls his jeans down to his thighs freeing his hard erection, slowly stroking himself to the sight of your body.

V: fuck, so good baby. being so good for me.

V: I would take off your panties. slowly

You follow his commands and slowly remove your underwear. You like being told what to do, you imagine he’s on the bed with you, telling you everything, guiding your pleasure.

V: touch yourself for me

V: you’re wet already? how cute

V: that’s a good girl, just like that

V: imagine it’s me. my fingers stuffed inside of you, giving you everything you want

V: you’re mine and mine only

V: you’re going to be mine to kiss and fuck. I’ll take care of you baby doll, make you cum all over my fingers. You want that too?

V: you're so pretty baby, you like putting on a filthy show for me? desperate little girl

V: open your legs wider

V: doing so well for me, stay just like that. you’re driving me crazy

V: cum for me

You pulse, moaning out loud, reaching your high. When your lust filled haze clears you don’t feel dirty like before, you feel good. Even better when V sends you another eighty dollar donation.

Taehyung played sweet and affectionate very well. When talking to other House members you’d try your best to keep things as vague as possible, but sometimes you’d let certain things slip with V, and he always listened so well. Shit, he treated you better than your ex. He’d send you sweet messages, gifts, and the hottest body shots. He would do that often, it made you needy for more affection. He was a part of a small group of viewers that you’d offer special private streams to. Little did you know your carefree playdates were Taehyung’s obsessions.

---

Taehyung feels a special kind of gratification at the way you gawk at him, stunned into silence. “Now my turn,” Taehyung’s expression goes from playful to serious in an instant, “Why are you here with Yoongi?”

You swallow, this was V all along. You teetered between happiness and unease, you remembered all the sweet memories you had with him, but this man was still a stranger to you. He keeps staring at you, is this how he looked watching you through the computer screen? Fuck, your imagination could not have dreamed up a sexier man. Oh right, he is waiting for your answer.

You explain to him what happened, Yoongi recognizing you at your job, the agreement you made with him afterwards. Taehyung moves from hovering over you to standing by your side. He listens intently as his eyes scan the crowd. You watch the dancers as you sober up, observing the debauchery you had just been a part of. Taehyung hums as you finish your story.

“Who is-” Taehyung doesn’t let you finish, his eyes staring at the second floor’s balcony. “You looked like you enjoyed yourself. You looked so pretty up there, with my friend’s fingers inside you. You were being such a cute little slut.” His eyes roll back inside his head and he opens his mouth sighing.

He saw you. Did the others- “Did Yoongi see?!” you pull on his arm to get him to focus on you.

“No, he didn’t, just me. My turn!”

You felt tricked, using your question up already.

He turns to face you, leaning his side against the wall. You can't help but notice how he stares at you like he’s undressing you with his eyes, gaze traveling down your body and pausing at every place your skin shows, your cleavage and your thighs. “He really worked you up, you looked so guilty when you came back,” Taehyung’s teasing tone back again, “I wouldn’t be surprised if Yoongi suspected something.”

Your eyes go wide with worry. “I’m willing to keep that secret for you if...” he bites his lip and leans in whispering, “I bet you’re still wet too. Can I have a taste?”

“R-right now?”

“Yes. That’s my turn again! And I’m waiting for my answer.” He gets closer to you, pressing up against you again, his hands brushing against your thigh. You look around, how far away are you from the crowd? How far away are you from Yoongi?

His lips brush against your temple as he leans his jaw against your forehead. “No one will see. Put your hands back on my shoulder, c’mon baby, be good for me.” His body blocks you from everyone’s view.

His head in your hair, taking a long inhale, breathing in your scent, Taehyung can’t get enough of you. Your shaky arms obey him, laying loosely on top of his broad shoulders. You lay your head on his chest, even if his words come out smooth, his heart is racing as he moves quickly between your bodies, dipping his long fingers inside you. You try to bite back a moan, but it feels too good.

Taehyung feels like he’s going to burst. You’re so wet, dripping all over his hand. He tries to fight his urges, there’s so many things he wants to do to you. Your soft whimpers sound so beautiful, so much better in person. You’re his to play with, all his.

He groans, pushing you hard against the wall. He looks like he’s going to devour you, your body tenses and you clench around his fingers. It only encourages him on. You grip his shoulders as he drives his hand upward, fingers pushing into you deeply as you fight against gravity, forced to stand on your tiptoes, struggling against him as his mouth attacks your neck, biting down hard. It’s too rough, too fast. “Tae-V-stop!”

His entire body stills against you, except for his fingers, teasing you still as they steadily press around inside your walls. You try to come to your senses, but everything about him unravels you.

He whispers against your forehead. “Last round, baby doll.” His voice raspy and breathing heavy as he holds himself back from tearing the clothes off your body. “One more question for each of us. I know where RM is, do you want to know?”

'RM,' who told you to find him, and V, who knows where. You gasp and nod your head, waiting but Taehyung smiles down at you in silence, fingers sliding out of you, making you whimper and grip the wall for support when he finally gives you space. He stays quiet as he brings his fingers to his mouth, licking the wetness off his palm.

Your legs feel like jello, your body buzzes with each shameless lick as you watch him. You swallow the saliva accumulating in your mouth, pushing the lump in your throat down. You know what he wants. You played right into his trap, and the worst part is you want it too.

“Where is he?”

---

“If you think you’re going to keep her all to yourself you’re in for a rude awakening!” Jungkook grits out.

Yoongi sits quietly with his arms folded as Jungkook starts hurling accusations at him. Jin and Hoseok try to calm the youngest down, but it’s no use.

He grabs Yoongi’s collar, the action making Yoongi finally snap, and without warning Yoongi punches him squarely in the face. Yoongi had taken advantage of his friends holding Jungkook back and distracting him, satisfied when the young man recoils, stumbling back.

Before he can really lose it, Hoseok and Jimin drag Jungkook away, as the youngest screams all the ways he’s going to make Yoongi pay, not even aware of the blood leaking from his nose. Jin pulls Yoongi away in the opposite direction, “We need to talk.”

Jin walks Yoongi outside so they can both get some fresh air and clear their heads.

“He needs to learn not to disrespect his elders,” Yoongi mutters, wiping the blood off his knuckles.

“You know how he gets,” Jin counters, “Don’t act like you didn’t want that exact reaction from him. You were egging him on all night with y/n.”

Yoongi scoffs. He can’t stand how Jungkook acts like you belong with him. Jungkook is crazy. He’s too hot-headed and oversensitive, the complete opposite of Yoongi. The youngest suffers from inexperience and naivety. All that bark, and he couldn’t even bring himself to talk to you. No, Jungkook doesn’t deserve you, Yoongi thinks, he could never take care of you like Yoongi could.

“What exactly are you trying to accomplish? You brought y/n back and we’re all happy for that, but if Jungkook is right, then I’m going to have to agree with him, brother.” Jin squeezes his friend’s shoulder and Yoongi shakes him off.

“I wasn’t going to keep her locked away.” Yoongi says dismissively. Not that he didn't think once or twice about it.

“How gracious of you.”

“Listen, I found her. She chose me before and she’ll choose me again. The last time you were with her, what happened, Brother? Hobi and Jimin, Jungkook and even you can fight over her all you want. In the end, she will come back to me.”

Jin smiles, he will let Yoongi think that. “And where is your y/n now?”

“I’ll go find her,” Yoongi goes to leave, itching to get you by his side again.

Jin’s hand on his chest stops him. Jin can’t help but smile at his poor friend’s situation, he had been tricked by the two youngest, a plan they orchestrated themselves and everyone else went along with. But Jin couldn’t keep his friend in the dark any longer, especially when revealing the truth would make the aftermath that much more entertaining for Jin.

“I have to tell you something.”

---

You stand in front of the door Taehyung had led you to, your nerves on high alert. Taehyung stands behind you, humming to himself. His arm reaches over your shoulder to rapt three knocks on the door.

As the door knob turns, Taehyung exclaims behind you, “Oh! I forgot.” His long fingers cover your eyes, as he pulls your head back, your body stumbling and crashing against him.

“Taehyung!”

“Shh. Calm down, it’s more fun this way,” he whispers in your ear as you hear the door creak open.

“What do we have here?”

“I brought her for you,” Taehyung purrs. You can feel his chest puff up behind you, he’s ecstatic, you played his game so perfectly, he was so proud of you.

“Good boy.”

You feel fingers wrap around yours as Namjoon brings your hands to his lips, caressing your knuckles. “And what about you? Are you going to be a good girl for me?”

---

Jimin tends to Jungkook’s bleeding nose as Hoseok pours himself a drink. “Thanks for taking one for the team, Kookie.”

Jungkook keeps his head tilted back to stop the blood, glancing over to Hoseok, lips curving in a smile, he’s happy that he accomplished his part of the plan successfully, “I’m going to kill that bastard.”

Jimin flicks him in the forehead. “No you’re not, unless you want y/n to never forgive you.”

“She won’t,” he pouts, “she acts like she hates him. I’ll be doing her a favor.” Jimin rolls his eyes.

---

The room is quiet, too quiet compared to the raucous party outside. So when Taehyung drags a chair from the corner of the room, the wood scraping against the floor sounds all the more foreboding. Goosebumps bloom on your body as if Taehyung dragged his fingernails along your skin instead.

You sit kneeling on the floor waiting, knees tucked underneath you. RM sits on the bed behind you, legs outstretched and you between them. You stare down at his shoes, shiny black loafers, and glance at his pants legs on either side of you. It's the first time you’ve ever seen a part of him. You want to look up so badly, the idea sits heavy on you, tensing every muscle in your body as you fight your curiosity. The only thing you want more is to find out what will happen if you obey them.

Taehyung pulls the chair right in front of you, facing the bed, you and RM. Another pair of shoes brush against your knees as Taehyung takes a seat.

RM’s fingers rest atop your head and keep your head tilted down while he waits for his friend to situate himself. Until eventually RM moves behind you, fingers fisting your hair and pulling you to your feet. “Go sit on his lap.”

Taehyung sits looking at you like he's just been given first place prize, smirking pridefully as you walk towards him on shaky legs. His shirt is already unbuttoned, tan skin and taunt muscles in full view. That's V, all right. Your insides ache for him, his seduction luring you in like a firefly to light.

Your dress stretches around your thighs as you straddle him, his hands grabbing at your ass and pulling your body into his.

You hear RM’s low voice growl behind you, “Kiss him.”

For a moment you think about the intense quiet man who brought you to this island, his piercing eyes flashing through your mind until Taehyung’s lips crash into yours and you can only think about how sweet the man devouring you tastes, and you kiss him back, exploring his mouth with your tongue.

His hands grope your body, pull your face closer, force away the fabric of your clothes. His touch is everywhere, keeping you distracted only on him as RM sets things up behind you.

RM pulls off his tie as Taehyung’s hands move to either side of your face, and he pulls you away from him, leaving one last peck on your lips, “You’re doing so well, baby doll. You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this.”

“V...Taehyung, I-I’ve wanted this too.”

“Will you do what I say?” You feel RM’s hands unzip the back of your dress, the fabric lowers and exposes your chest. Taehyung’s grip on your face tightens as you’re momentarily distracted, bringing your attention back to him.

“Yes.”

“I want you to fuck RM while I watch.”

He what who?

Taehyung brings his hips up causing you to lose your balance when he senses your hesitation, his hard length rubs against your aching core, “Don’t you want to? You wanted so badly for me to take you to him, didn’t you? All you have to do is say yes.”

His thumb traces your jaw as RM lowers his black tie across your eyes. Your heartbeat races, your thighs clench around Taehyung’s legs making him moan and buck into your heat. You shudder and RM secures his tie behind your head with a tight knot.

“Tae...” your fingers tighten into the loose fabric of his shirt at your sudden loss in vision.

Taehyung clasps his hands around yours, holding your wrists together as RM presses himself against your back, and you feel ropes being wrapped around your wrists. “You’re so pretty like this, remember last time?”

You do remember. Fuck, how did you end up like this again? This is all Yoongi’s fault.

RM’s hand wraps around your neck and his deep voice speaks in your ear, “Answer him, baby girl.”

“I-I remember.” You want to cry, you want to cum, you want them to stop this torture.

“Let us make you feel good again,” Taehyung’s voice lowers even deeper than RM’s.

“I...okay.”

“You’ll let RM use you?” You nod your head, grateful you can’t see them. You let yourself hide behind the makeshift blindfold.

“Use your words, I want to hear you say it,” RM demands.

“I want you to use me,” you sit and wait, embarrassed the words left your mouth so easily. The lack of response makes your insides churn, you can’t see the way they smile at each other. If Yoongi wants to make you only his, they are just going to have to destroy you for any other man.

RM’s grip around your neck tightens, arm wrapping around your body as he lifts you off your feet. You land on the soft covers of the bed, you have no time to adjust to the drastic change of orientation before you feel harsh tugs as RM works to undress you, throwing the clothes over to Taehyung who takes his time breathing in your scent, licking the moistness from the fabric.

Namjoon pulls on the rope wrapped around your wrists placing them high above your head, his weight bears down on top of your leg as he grabs your other leg and spreads you wide. The way Taehyung moans reach your ears you suspect he has full view of your naked body. You wiggle against RM’s hold as best you can.

“Mmmm so needy and I’m not even doing anything yet.” RM’s hand leaves your wrists as he moves lower, resting his upper body on top of yours, effectively pinning your lower body down. Having full reign to play with you in this position, you feel his fingers teasing at your entrance. Your tied hands explore the expanse of his back, his shoulders so wide you can’t reach around to end his teasing, you can only moan and whimper at his slow ministrations.

“Ahh so wet,” RM massages everywhere except the place you want him most.

This is mean, this is tortuous, you’ve obeyed them and they still tease you. You cry out in frustration, clenching every time his fingers poke at your hole, RM’s grip on your thigh is too tight to move even an inch. You shove his back with your tied hands and RM laughs.

“Tae, help me out.” You feel fingers finally pressing into your aching clit, rubbing slow circles, making you cry out. RM’s fingers continue to drag across your lips, gathering the wetness that drips from your core. They slowly and steadily work the tension out of you until you’re numb with pleasure.

You let out a scream when your orgasm finally hits you. After being tortured all night, teased until you were delirious, the release becomes so intense you black out, and when you come to RM is pumping his fingers into you roughly. Your body seizes up again, racing into another orgasm. He rocks his hand into you, thumb rubbing your sensitive hood, and you release again. But RM doesn’t stop. He takes and takes, leaving you breathless. The sounds of your wetness fills the room, mixing with Taehyung’s grunts and moans at your helpless state.

“I c-can’t...too sensitive!”

“This is what you wanted, for Daddy to use you. Take it.”

Your tied hands try to move RM’s body off of you, but he is like a boulder on top of your body, unaffected by your hits. You struggle until his pleasure overtakes the pain, and you fall back, losing yourself in the way his fingers fill you up, hitting the deepest parts of you so skillfully. You stop fighting and accept the power he holds over you, he is making you feel so good you want him to take it, the thought sends you hurtling into another orgasm, tightening again around his fingers.

He can feel how close you are. “Be a good girl and give me one more,” RM groans, “that’s it.”

You’re wailing in pleasure now, unable to stop your cries. Your weak body shaking in his grasp. You feel something wet hit your outstretched thigh. Taehyung’s deep grunts of release finally undoing the coil inside you, and you orgasm for a third time around RM’s fingers.

RM lets go of you finally and you lie boneless, breathing ragged, blind and numb to the world. The air feels cool on your sweaty body as you come down from your high. You feel the bed dip as RM joins you again. Before he had been fully dressed, now you can feel his warm skin against your slippery body.

He lays himself between your legs. His lips finally meet yours, they feel full. You moan into his mouth as his tongue plays with yours. You want to touch his face but your arms are still tied together, so you caress his hair instead, the back of his neck, his muscular shoulders, trying to feel as much as you can.

His hard length brushes against your oversensitive core, his mouth swallowing your whimpers as he pushes himself in. You’re so wet there’s no resistance, but the stretch still leaves you gasping. His thrusts are hard and deep, you focus on how the weight of his body feels on top of yours as he uses you to reach his high. “You’re taking Daddy so well, baby.”

“T-Thank you, Daddy,” you stutter out between moans.

RM holds your wrists down as he finishes, releasing deep inside you. You feel every pulse from his cock, the pressure almost becoming too much as he fills you up.

You hear the familiar scrape of the chair again as Taehyung comes closer, fingers wiping away the tears on your face making you feel cared for. You don’t see how he licks your salty tears off his hand.

RM lifts your tired body in his arms, cradling you to his chest. He puts you in his lap as he takes a seat in the vacant chair.

“Tae has been such a patient boy, I think it’s time for his reward.”

RM moves your body so your back is flush against his, pulling the rope on your hands around his head, locking your arms. His hand massages up and down your legs, putting his knees in between yours.

“Kneel.” You realize RM is addressing Taehyung. He spreads his legs to make room for Taehyung, forcing your legs open in the process.

“RM-” Namjoon places his hand over your mouth, the same way he did at the party, stifling your scream as Taehyung buries his face into your pussy.

Taehyung eats you out while RM keeps you open, until you’re shaking in his lap, until you can’t form anything coherent anymore, until you’re so sensitive Taehyung’s lips around your clit is the only thought in your head, the drag of his tongue pulling away from you the last thing you feel before exhaustion sends you into the deepest sleep of your life.

---

You wake up alone.

You pull the sheets closer to your naked body as you look around the vacant room. Everything is moved back to its place, floor empty. You search the ground for your clothes but there’s nothing there. You pull yourself out of bed, trying to ignore your aching joints and pounding head. You look for your clothes but there’s nothing. You search the entire room, the closet is empty, the dresser is empty, there’s not even a towel in the bathroom. Where the hell are your clothes?!

You make your way back into bed, pulling the covers over your body.

Oh fuck, what are you going to do?

What time is it? They just left you and took your clothes. What kind of sick game is Taehyung playing now? Tears well up in your eyes.

You feel more confused than ever, Taehyung had been so sweet to you before, you had often fantasized meeting him, but he was so different in person. You hadn’t expected this. He’s going to come back, right? Right?!

You are pulled away from your thoughts at the sound of the door creaking open.

“I see you’ve been a very bad girl.” Your eyes widen as Yoongi makes his way into the room, closing the door behind him. He looks as smug as ever, holding a hanger over his shoulder.

“A-Are those my clothes?”

“Are these the clothes I gave you last night? No, looks like you fucked yourself out of those.” You pull the bedsheet closer to you, gritting your teeth, blinking away your tears.

“Yoongi...”

“Hmm?” He leans against the bedpost, the clothes hanger hanging off one finger. You want to punch him, but you know you're walking on thin ice already.

“P-please help me.”

“You lost the clothes I got you. Why should I give you more?” You can tell he’s itching to humiliate you.

“So you’re just going to leave me here naked?!” you yell at him.

His eyes narrow. He grabs the bedsheet and pulls, dragging it off your body before you can stop him. You wrap your arms around your chest and pull your legs together.

“I should, after what you did!” Yoongi screams, “Whoring yourself out to my friends. Two at the same time, enjoy yourself? Fucking slut.” His words sting you. How could you fuck up so badly, you just let yourself become overtaken by lust.

“Now look at you. You let them take advantage of you. They used you and they left you with nothing. What would you have done if I didn’t find you?” He crosses his arms, his cold eyes glaring at you.

You burst into tears. Is he right? Is that what they did to you? “I’m-s-so-sorry,” you manage to say between sobs.

He sighs, “I’m here now.” You need him, he’s going to make you see that. He moves closer, lifting your chin to look at him. “If they had taken this,” his hand brushes your choker, “I would have killed them.”

You look at him pleadingly, trying to silence your sniffles. He offers you the clothes hanger, “Change into this.”

---

You unzip the clothes bag and pull out a dress with a light flowery pattern. The fabric is sheer and flowy. The matching lingerie set is pastel pink and strappy. Well, even if he is an asshole at least you can count on Yoongi to make you look good. You clean up your makeup and style your hair as best you can in the empty bathroom, removing what's left of the smudged dark eyeshadow, pushing thoughts from last night away. The more you try to make sense of what transpired, the more confused you become, and remembering just makes you feel hot all over.

Yoongi pushes himself off the wall when you open the door.

There is still music playing, still people dancing, a lot less than the night before, but you’re amazed there are any at all.

“Does the party ever end?” you think out loud.

“Only if you want it to.”

Yoongi leads you outside. When you reach the backyard you realize the party truly never really ended, only moved. Partygoers lounge by the pool, drinking and eating.

“Is that a fucking mermaid?” Girls dressed up in tails lay about the pool, you're about to run towards them when Yoongi pulls you away from the pool. “Let’s eat before you decide to go make friends.”

You walk in step. He looks put together as always, wearing simple light clothes, a white shirt tucked into tan pants, an unbuttoned collared shirt on top.

“Is everyone here a House member?” You ask, finally sober enough to start learning some things.

“Yes, I thought it was obvious. It’s nothing official. Just a get-together after our quarterly meeting, something for our investors.”

Right, never did you just have a ‘get-together’ like this. It's annoying how out of touch they are.

You see the familiar faces of his friends sitting in a secluded area. Before you and Yoongi get within earshot he grabs your arm.

“If Taehyung and Jungkook try to touch you again, let me know, will you?”

Wait, Jungkook is RM? What? No way, that doesn’t make any sense. He can’t be, he was downstairs when you first met RM. But why does Yoongi think you fucked him? Jungkook is not RM. Though, you remember how he never spoke to you.

His grip on you tightens when you don’t answer, “Y/n…”

“Okay, okay.”

---

Jungkook watches you and Yoongi whispering to one another. You look flustered when Yoongi places a soft kiss on your cheek before breaking away.

He takes a deep breath, rubbing his temples to take the tension away. When he looks up again, Yoongi and you are walking towards the group, your eyes fixated on...him? Jungkook breaks eye contact and looks back at you...and you’re still staring at him. He keeps eye contact with you, face going redder and redder.

He watches as you greet his friends, eyes glancing his way too frequently to call it a coincidence. What the fuck did Yoongi tell you to make you look at him like he grew three heads?

---

“I’ll be right back.” Yoongi makes his way to the far end of the party where Seokjin is talking to another man. You watch as Yoongi embraces the stranger, it’s one of the few times you’ve seen Yoongi smile, not a self satisfied smirk or a threatening grin, but a genuine smile showing off his gums that make the intimidating man look actually cute. The stranger gives him a dimpled smile in return.

“Who’s that with Seokjin?” you ask Jimin.

He looks over to where you're pointing, Jimin's expression full of mirth, “That’s Namjoon, looks like he made it to the party after all.”

“Oh.”

Jimin pulls on your arm, turning you to him, “Let’s go swimming!”

“Oh, but I don’t have a bathing suit.”

“That’s okay, you can go in your underwear,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you, making you giggle.

“I’ll, um, be right back,” Jimin whines as you get up, and you promise him it will only take a minute. You know you’d never get a chance to talk to Jungkook with Yoongi by your side, the two of them seem to have an odd tension between them. But now that Yoongi is distracted with Seokjin and Namjoon, it’s the perfect opportunity.

“Er hello?”

Jungkook’s wide doe eyes looks up at you. “Hello...”

Okay, he definitely doesn’t sound like RM. “Hi, I didn’t get to talk to you last night. I just wanted to say hi.”

“Oh, hi.”

“...hi.”

This is painfully awkward. You study his frame...he is built. The tank top he’s wearing shows off his broad shoulders and muscular tattooed arms, he looks strong like how you imagine RM. Maybe if you kiss him...

Jungkook watches as you peer over his back. “Dahlia…”

“Hmm? Oh, just call me y/n.” you insist, the alias making you feel self-conscious.

“I missed talking to you...so much.”

“We talked?” Is he really RM? No, it doesn’t feel like him at all.

Jungkook bites his lower lip. His front teeth pressing into his round lips makes him look cute, you think, like a scared rabbit.

“Yes, we used to talk a lot, before...” he bites back the words so he doesn’t make you uncomfortable. “My username is..” Ugh, Jungkook can’t believe he’s saying this to you out loud, why did he have to choose such a dumb username? “PlayboyJK.”

“Oh, oh! I remember you!” You remember your conversations with him. He was a good tipper, a bit unconventional in his requests, but he was always one of the first viewers to your stream.

“Honestly, I can’t believe you would watch me.”

“Why?”

“You’re just so...handsome? I’m just surprised, I guess!”

Jungkook’s ears go red at the compliment. You’re so perfect, you’re a goddess. He’d watch you all day every day, he’d watch you sleep. How could you think he wouldn’t want to watch you?

“I think you’re so beautiful, I like you a lot.”

“T-Thank you,”

“Are you going to start streaming again?

“Ha no no. I put all that behind me. Well, I thought I did,” you say after noticing Jungkook’s confused expression. “Um, it’s a long story.”

“Oh, you don’t have to join again. I could, um, pay you directly.”

“You’d pay me? For what?” you laugh, but you're curious to hear his answer.

“For anything, I’d pay you...just be with me.” you look into Jungkook’s wide eyes, so determined. Maybe if Yoongi had asked you this way, you would have considered it.

“I-HEY!” You squeal as Hoseok lifts you out of your seat. Jungkook gives Jimin a look of dismay as he pulls the younger man to his feet too.

Somehow you ended up in the pool with your dress still on. The sheer fabric doing little to hide the lingerie underneath for all the men to see.

---

The sun has already left the horizon while you sit on the deck of Yoongi’s yacht, drying off your body from the day's watery fun. You listen to the waves hit the walls of his boat as it sloshes around in the water, the rhythm like a whispering melody. The twilight casts everything in blue, the smell of salt and fresh air along with sound of the sea's waves is just so relaxing. What you wouldn't give to experience this all the time.

“Come back with me.” Yoongi's hushed voice breaks your trance.

“And be what, your personal servant?" you scoff, "I don’t think so.”

"What about those girls at the party? You could be like them, always having fun, the center of attention."

You bite your lip. "I don't want that." You wonder if Yoongi will believe you when you don't even believe yourself.

"Or I could just give you all my attention." He gets closer to you. "All this could be your life."

"Maybe I like my life-"

Yoongi laughs at you, earning himself a glare.

"Or I could just keep you here." He smirks down at you.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Don’t dare me.”

You stop glaring at him, turning your head away. You watch the lights on the mansion turn on as the night settles in.

“Do you really want to go back to that boring job?” You roll your eyes at his words. “Don’t you want more? To have fun? I’ll give you everything you want."

"I don’t think you could give me everything."

"Just try. You can always go back, I’m sure that manager friend of yours would rehire you."

You sigh, breathing in deep the salty air.

“I would have to put in my two weeks...”

---

Hobi’s scene was fun to write, I haven’t been to parties or dancing in so long I was like what the hell happens again? Now I wanna dance! Reader who said Yoongi will throw her into the sea last chapter you made me laugh so hard I almost considered making him do that lol. I guess there’s still some time to piss him off enough! Do you believe Yoongi? What do you think (or want) to happen next? <3

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bitsandbobsofwriting · 3 years

Text

Camlann, except no one is being held back by stupid destinies;

Merlin manages to keep Morgana and Mordred on the side of the light, which has a few rather influential knock-on effects.

Morgause leads her army onto the barren fields of Camlann, her hair and eyes wild, but her sword and focus sharp. Opposite stands her traitor sister’s half brother, the Boy-King of Camelot, surrounded by his precious knights. Today, they would all die, she would make certain of that.

Arthur struggles to keep his hands from trembling, he’s well aware that this battle will likely be his, and subsequently Camelot’s, downfall, but his nerves are settled slightly by Merlin’s comforting presence at his side. Which he feels immensely guilty at.

He’d done his best to urge Merlin to run, to take Gwen and Gaius and maybe even Morgana, to go to Ealdor to pick up his mother and run even further, just in case. Merlin had refused of course; Gwen and Morgana had squawked at Arthur’s stupid chivalry and planted their feet firmly in the throne room, a symbolic last line of defence, and Gaius rolled his eyes and reaffirmed that he would be in the infirmary tent, as planned.

He’d given his men his speech and they all seemed content to die for the cause, for one last desperate attempt to keep their home safe, but that didn’t stop the freezing claw of guilt from shredding Arthur’s lungs every time he took a breath. They were just waiting now. For someone to make the first move, for Morgause to get a little closer, for someone to send a messenger.

Arthur’s broken from his stare when a warm, soft, steady hand takes his gently. His head whips to the side to see Merlin, stood without armour (oh, how The King despaired) staring at him with a slight frown. A frown, Arthur thinks, that should be much deeper, and much more afraid. He’s grateful it isn’t. He’s not sure he could cope with seeing Merlin scared:

“Arthur, if... if I knew a way to win this, once and for all, with not a drop of Camelot blood spilt... would you let me?”

It takes Arthur a few moments to process what Merlin had said, on account of his brain focusing on how grateful he is to hear his voice and feel the warmth of his hand instead of actually listening to him speak, but when he does, he copies his servant’s frown, though his is slightly more confused. He doesn’t let go of Merlin’s hand as he responds, instead tightening his grip:

“What on Earth are you talking about?”

Merlin gulps and looks away briefly, a look of guilt if Arthur ever saw one, but he finds he doesn’t really care. They’re all about to die, he’d forgive Merlin anything:

“If I could win this battle, and the war, right here, right now. Would you let me?-”

At Arthur’s continued perplexed look, Merlin rolls his eyes and huffs, smirking slightly as he adds on:

“-Just humour me.”

Arthur gulps, glancing towards the slowly advancing army before once again squeezing Merlin’s hand and looking back at him:

“It would... depend on the consequences, I suppose. Would you get hurt?”

Merlin shakes his head, then stops, and tilts it sideways as though he’s considering something he’d really rather not think about. He can’t meet Arthur’s gaze as he responds:

“I... might need a few hours to rest, afterwards, but any... long term consequences would depend on your reaction.”

Arthur recoils slightly at that, frown deepening as he shakes his head, completely oblivious to the keen listening ears of his six most loyal knights, and another, hidden towards the back of the group. If he’d turned to see them, Arthur would’ve noticed the blank looks of steely determination on Lancelot and Mordred’s faces:

“Well we would never have to worry about that. I... I could never see you hurt, Merlin.”

The King’s voice cracks as he mentions Merlin getting hurt, and the servant’s gaze softens, knowing that Arthur was thinking of their inevitable demise, creeping closer and closer. He squeezes his hand, giving him a soft smile as his other hand lifts up to rest on his shoulder; his question comes out soft and pleading:

“Do you trust me?”

Arthur has to use all of his self control not to yell his answer across Camlann:

“More than anyone.”

Merlin smiles sadly and steps back, dropping both of his still-steady hands to his sides; Arthur feels the gap between them more heavily than he feels the armour on his back. Merlin goes to turn away without another word, but before he can take even one step, a figure is pushing through to the front, gripping his wrist and pulling him back:

“I’m coming too.”

Arthur’s eyes go comically large as he hears Morgana’s voice come from under the hood. He steps forward to rip it down, and she only spares him an annoyed glance before she’s back to staring purposefully at Merlin. A gasp goes up around the group from all bar two, and Mordred dismounts his horse, walking forward to be in line with Morgana. The three of them entirely ignore Arthur’s outraged words:

“Morgana, what the hell are you doing here? You need to be safe at the castle, you’re meant to take the crown what the hell are you doing here?!”

Merlin meets Morgana’s determined glare with a resigned one of his own:

“No, this is my-”

Mordred interrupts him, his voice strong in a way that Arthur had never heard from the youngest knight before:

“No. No, it’s not. You’re not just fighting for Camelot, Merlin, you’re fighting or us, for our people.”

Merlin looks like he wants to argue, but Morgana crosses her arms and holds her head high as she speaks:

“You’re making a stand and you have no right to stop us from doing the same. This is bigger than you, bigger than all three of us, this is our fight just as much as it is yours.”

Merlin can only hold their stare for so long before he sighs and looks to the floor, entirely oblivious to the knights panicking (bar Lancelot, of course). He looks up with a small, relaxed smile on his face, and if Arthur weren’t so preoccupied with the fact that Morgana was definitely not supposed to be here, he would’ve found Merlin’s almost-nonchalance calming. The servant holds both his hands out:

“Together?”

Mordred grins widely, taking one of Merlin’s wrists as he responds confidently:

“For Camelot.”

Morgana does the same, a sudden wind whipping her hair behind her wildly:

“For our people.”

Without another moment’s of hesitation, Merlin turns and marches towards Morgause and her army. His steps are purposeful and strong, and Arthur can’t bring himself to stop him, no matter how desperately his brain is screaming at him. Morgana turns to him with a not-quite-cruel smirk:

“This has been a long time coming, brother. Enjoy the show.”

Arthur can only blink in surprise as she turns and walks towards Merlin. Mordred looks to him next, though the young knight’s smile is a lot softer, a lot more pitying:

“You should consider yourself lucky, Arthur,-”

Arthur barely registers the use of his first name:

“-my Lord gave up his throne in favour of serving you, buried his crown in favour of polishing yours.”

Arthur shakes his head slightly, his voice quiet and confused and strained as he asks:

“Your Lord?”

Mordred looks to Merlin, still marching across the seemingly never-ending field, with an awed smile; his voice is quiet and holds notes of what almost sound like worship:

“He’s more than you know.”

Before Arthur can respond, Merlin and Morgana stop, turning to look at Mordred expectantly. Merlin stares blankly, his brows slightly furrowed, but Morgana sports a wild grin as she yells back:

“I though you wanted to join in on the fun, Mordred?”

The young knight grins in response, turning to Arthur and giving him one last short bow as he cheerfully says, not a trace of worry in his voice:

“Lady Morgana is right My Lord, enjoy the show.”

He turns away quickly, jogging to catch up with the other two before anyone can say anything. Gwaine is the first to react, jumping off his horse and starting forward, to catch up with them, to pull them back, to ask them what the fuck was going on, but Lance quickly lands behind him, grabbing his shoulder:

“Wait, don’t. You trust them right?-”

He casts his gaze around the others, all looking slightly confused but mostly panicked as they dismount their horses. Mordred, Merlin, and Morgana make their journey to the centre of the field, but Lancelot’s eyes focuses on Arthur:

“-You said you trusted him, so just... this is what he does, Arthur. Please, just trust him, everything’s going to be ok.”

Arthur is desperate to question his knight, to demand that he explain what’s going on and give up anything, everything he knows, but before he can say anything, Elyan gasps and points somewhere beyond their friends. The whole army seems to resume their earlier jitters as Morgause differentiates herself from her soldiers.

The three magic users spread out slightly as they come to a stop, Mordred on the left, Morgana on the right, and Merlin, of course, in the middle.

A storm seems to be fast approaching and the loud wind makes hearing each other difficult, but they don’t need words to speak, and Mordred’s question echoes in Merlin’s head as all of their gazes focus on Morgause stepping forward:

“Are the other two coming?”

The Warlock nods, tapping his finger to his temple briefly as he replies:

“I called for them hours ago, they’re almost-”

Arthur is distracted from all that’s in front of him when a desperate and terrified voice screeches out from the back of his army:

“DRAGONS!!”

He, and all the other knights, whip their heads around in panic, only to see exactly what had been yelled about. The Dragon that Arthur had supposedly killed years ago is flying towards them like a hurricane, golden scales shining bright even in the shadows of the approaching storm. Next to him flies a much smaller dragon, pure white and clearly young, unstable in the air but still graceful, still terrifying.

Arthur’s heart sinks even impossibly further as they both fly straight over them, aiming for the other side of the field. If Morgause had two Dragons at her beck and call somehow, there was no hope, no matter what ridiculous plan Merlin had. Arthur felt the tears fill his eyes, but he didn’t let them fall. If this was to end in fire, then he’d sprint to Merlin, just so he could see him, hold his hands, beg him for a smile, one last time.

Lancelot holds him back with a hand on his shoulder and a soft smile:

“I know this doesn’t make sense, but just... trust him.”

He turns back to Merlin just to see the great beasts land in front of them, almost acting as a barrier between the three of them and the opposing army.

“-Took you long enough.”

Kilgharrah does his best imitation of rolled eyes before dipping his head in a bow:

“Where would you like us, young Warlock?”

Merlin grins, allowing Aithusa to push her head into his hands as he answers:

“I want you somewhere off to the side looking vaguely threatening. Only intervene if you have to, I don’t want the Camelot knights getting twitchy and skewering you, you’re an old man after all, I’m not sure you could take it.-”

Morgana laughs aloud and Mordred snorts behind his hand, but Kilgharrah just rolls his eyes again, giving another bow that this time somehow seems sarcastic before clomping off to the side, prowling up and down the edge of the field and huffing the occasional puffs of smoke in the opposition’s direction. Merlin looks down to Aithusa next, scratching her chin and using a much softer voice:

“Go watch over Arthur, keep him safe but don’t let him or any of the others hurt you, I’m sure Lance will explain. Try to stay out of the fighting and don’t let Morgause get anywhere near Arthur or the knights, you understand?”

The creature purrs and nods, stepping around her master and beginning an impossibly fast sprint towards Arthur.

Arthur stares with wide eyes at the gathering in the middle of the field, letting out a deep breath when the Great Dragon bows down to Merlin’s confident stance. The smaller creature bounds to him as he... exchanges words with the beasts, and all Arthur can do is stare as his brain argues over which emotion should be at the forefront. Fear? Confusion? Betrayal? Some kind of guilt? Pride, maybe?

Lancelot definitely looks proud, worried, but proud, and Arthur spares him a questioning glance; before he can say anything, Leon lets out a quiet yelp, pointing across the field and drawing his sword on instinct. Arthur whips his head around to see the white Dragon speeding towards them, eyes bright, teeth bared, and sharp claws ripping up the ground with every step.

He draws his own sword, panic clawing at his gut, but before he can step forward in some pointless attempt to protect his men, Lancelot pulls him back again, stepping in between Arthur and the approaching Dragon with a placating hand held out to each of them; his voice comes out quickly and desperate:

“No, no, she’s on our side, don’t hurt her. Merlin sent her here to protect us, don’t hurt her.”

Arthur stares between them with a mix of blood-curdling fear and endless confusion. But he trusts Merlin, and he trusts Lancelot, so much to Leon’s displeasure he lowers his sword, though he doesn’t sheath it, not yet.

The Dragon finally reaches them, coming to a skidding stop a few feet away. Arthur’s fear is overpowered by confusion, and an odd fondness in the back of his mind, when the creature almost topples over in it’s haste. She purrs loudly, and even Leon appears to relax slightly, even more so when she dips her head in what appears to be a bow to Arthur, before turning her attention to Lancelot and pushing her face into his hands.

The other knights all start forward on instinct, but when Lance lets out a low chuckle and begins... scratching the creature’s chin?? They step back again, watching as the Dragon begins purring even louder, almost bowling Lancelot over as it rubs it’s scaled body across his legs. It’s... acting like a cat...

Gwaine coughs very deliberately and Lancelot looks up with a blush, biting his lip before saying, his words awkward and stilted:

“Uh... guys, this is Aithusa, she’s... a Dragon. She can’t speak yet, but-”

Percival makes a confused noise in the back of his throat, shaking his head with wide eyes as he asks incredulously:

“Dragons are meant to be able to speak??”

Lancelot grimaces, but nods, but before he can say anything, Morgause’s crazed voice echoes over the field, and their attention is drawn back to the face off between Merlin, Morgana, Mordred, and the enemy.

“You can not beat me, not even with your precious pets!!”

The gang can hear Kilgharrah’s low growl at the insult and the sound vibrates across the ground and up into their very bones, even with the distance between them. Aithusa tenses in response, eyes narrowed and teeth bared as she detects the anger and insult swarming in her Kin, but Merlin holds a hand out to the Great Dragon, and both creatures relax as he monotonously responds:

“I’m giving you one chance, Morgause, do not send your followers to a pointless death.”

His tone is even and confident, his back straight, his head held high, and Arthur wonders how he’d never noticed Merlin’s obvious power before. Despite speaking normally, his voice is heard by everyone, even over the howling wind.

The knights can see Morgause’s hands shaking in her rage, her eyes wide and bright golden as she screeches her response, her anger showing through clearly:

“I am no coward!! You are nothing but a servant, a child soldier, and a pampered princess! What hope do you have against me?! I am a High Priestess, you are nothing!!!”

Merlin lowers his head, nodding slightly in resigned sadness. His muttered words, once again, somehow seem to echo across the field, and Arthur recoils at the grief in his tone:

“So be it.”

He slowly lifts his arm, holding it at a forty-five degree angle from the ground, his fingers splayed wide, and Elyan gasps, pointing wordlessly to the lightening dancing between his fingertips. Gwaine lets out a boisterous laugh, grinning as he realises with sudden clarity that Merlin is about to kick ass in a major way.

Arthur just gapes, struggling to process what was happening even as Gwaine whoops and Lancelot smiles proudly. The other knights are also staring, varying levels of confusion, awe, and happiness on their faces.

From where they’re standing, they can see Mordred and Morgana get into a fighting stance, though neither of them draw the swords they have hanging from their hips. Morgause lets out an ear piercing screech, this one wordless, giving the distinct impression that her mind had snapped under the weight of her fury. Her army begins their march forwards as she hurls a fireball the size of a horse straight for Merlin, but he simply twists his wrist sharply forwards. A bolt of lightening rips down from the sky, intercepting the fireball and forcing it to the ground where it explodes in a miniature storm of silver sparks and golden flames.

Morgause screams again, her and her army speeding up in their approach as Merlin gives some sort of unseen command. All of a sudden, Mordred gives a small leap forward, planting his feet firmly as he thrusts his hands towards the ground before ripping them up again; with the movement, the ground at his feet explodes, vines and rocks and roots bursting from the field in a sharp line heading straight for the army. Morgana, at the same time, swirls her arms gracefully around her head, a few sparks of fire lighting up in the darkness as if from the friction between her hands and the air. She brings her arms down again, completing the elegant flow, stepping forward as she blows harshly into her cupped hands. A great, hot fire bursts forth, huge and angry and writhing as it shoots towards the enemy.

A few feeble counter attacks are thrown from Morgause and the sorcerers she has in her ranks, but ultimately, the army can only look on in horror at their approaching deaths. After a few moments of Merlin staring proudly at Mordred and Morgana’s handy work as it rips apart the first few hundred soldiers, he takes his own step forward, raising his arm to the sky. Lightening dances between just his fingertips at first, then down his arm, then all over his body; he connects to the flashes in the sky, and he glows brighter and brighter until he thrusts both arms forward. A tornado of flashing, crackling light shoots out from his hands, striking down thousands of soldiers. Shards of lightening jump from enemy to enemy, leaving none untouched by magic, each being struck down by Mordred’s earth, Morgana’s fire, or Merlin’s sky.

The Camelot army can only stare on in shock and horror as the enemy is wiped out in minutes, screams of those being buried alive, burned as if on pyres, or fried from the inside out reverberating across the field. Arthur’s mouth hangs open, his eyes wide and frozen on Merlin as he conducts lightening as if it were what he was born to do. Something deep in Arthur’s soul tells him that this is what he was born to do.

Aithusa’s protection isn’t required; none of the enemy soldiers get within ten metres of Merlin and his pupils, let alone Arthur and the other knights, but she patrols the front edge of Camelot’s army regardless, nudging back those that step too far forward (everyone was too focused on The King’s manservant, knight, and half sister being... well... Godlike, to care about the fact that a Dragon was using her snout to gently push people around), always with one eye on Arthur, just like her master had asked.

Within minutes, the field goes almost silent; the only sounds to be heard are the gentle crackling of still-smouldering bodies, and the deep breaths of Morgause, Mordred, Morgana, and Arthur. Merlin seems entirely unbothered, his stance still strong and powerful where Mordred and Morgana sag slightly from the exertion.

Morgause falls to her knees, tears on her cheeks as she finally realises the power that she’s up against; Merlin tilts his head slightly before clicking his fingers. The four of them disappear in clouds of deep black smoke and Arthur struggles to stop himself from yelping and falling back when they reappear in front of him.

Morgause is still kneeling, Merlin in front of her with a blank expression on his face. Morgana stands to the side, her face an odd mix of sorrowfully defeated—Morgause was her sister after all—and vindictively victorious. Mordred stands at her shoulder, looking a lot more tired but still managing to stay upright as he gazes upon the scene with well put together indifference. Aithusa bounds over to be stood at her master’s side, and even Kilgharrah joins them, standing behind Aithusa a way’s off.

Morgause finally speaks through her deep breathing, staring up at Merlin in desperation:

“Who are you?”

Merlin just tilts his head and frowns slightly, crouching down to place a soft hand on her shoulder:

“Who do you think?”

Morgause sags even further, her tears streaming down her face as she almost whispers, her voice cracking:

“Emrys.”

Merlin nods slowly, looking to Arthur for the first time since the whole ordeal started. Arthur is taken aback at the shining gold of his eyes, but holds his gaze, gulping and waiting for his servant (?) to make the first move:

“Your orders, My Lord?”

Arthur takes a deep breath, looking first down at Morgause, who is staring at the floor blankly, then to Mordred and Morgana, who raise eyebrows at him, then Lancelot, who shrugs, and finally the other knights, who stare at him with wide eyes, waiting for his answer just as Merlin is. His hands clench at his side, but he looks back to the dark-haired man, his face determined and his voice strong:

“Your suggestion?”

Lancelot nods approvingly at Arthur’s obvious show of trust; the question is more than just a question, it’s a display that The King is treating Merlin like an advisor, asking for his counsel and trusting his allegiance in front of a crowd. Merlin smiles slightly, tightening his grip on Morgause’s shoulder, not that she notices:

“I’m not overly fond of execution, but we don’t have dungeons strong enough to hold her long term, and too many have suffered at her hand.”

Arthur nods, though he sheathes his sword. He takes a deep breath before his next instruction, knowing that this is... delicate, and important; a turning point in his Kingdom’s history:

“Make it merciful.”

Merlin holds in his proud smile and Morgause only has time to gasp quietly as his hand moves from her shoulder to her forehead. Her eyes roll back and she collapses to the floor, dead before she even hits the ground.

The Warlock spares the dead witch a quick, pitying glance, and the grief in his eyes, even after all she had done, is endearing, reminding everyone around them of the compassion Merlin is capable of. He stands quickly, but is careful not to make any of his moves too sudden, stepping away from the body and towards Arthur. His stance is strong once again, allowing some before unseen authority, confidence, power to shine through; Mordred and Morgana take their places either side of them, and even Aithusa sits up, tall and proud, as Kilgharrah edges forward slightly.

This is Merlin, showing off his army, presenting it to his King, offering it up for judgment. An army consisting of himself, his two apprentices, and two Dragons; not large, but likely the most powerful the land has ever known, and ever will know.

Arthur gulps, but meets Merlin’s golden gaze. The atmosphere is thick and charged and The King couldn’t pinpoint whether it was from the residual lightening still jumping between Merlin’s fingers, or the sheer power that was just displayed, seemingly effortlessly. He glances over the Warlock’s shoulder at the carnage behind him and can’t help but take a deep, fortifying breath. Merlin tilts his head, glancing at the massacre for just a moment before looking back with an almost repentant smile:

“I apologise for the theatrics,-”

He’s interrupted by Morgana’s whispered murmur of “I don’t, that was brilliant.” but ignores her:

“-but I can... fix that. If you like?”

Arthur frowns slightly, confused and so far out of his comfort zone that he doesn’t even want to hazard a guess at what Merlin might be implying. He feels a mould grow spontaneously in his gut, a horror with spores that spread throughout his bloodstream as he realises that... he doesn’t really know anything about magic, about how it works, about how Merlin is offering to use it. It had yet to occur to him to be afraid of Merlin, but the sudden realisation that he’d been persecuting his servant’s people with no real understanding of his own former hatred was... jarring.

The Warlock sees Arthur’s hesitation, widening his reassuring smile slightly as he repeats an earlier question, from a time that felt as though it had come years before, but was really only minutes. The discrepancy in timelines between Arthur’s head and the real world does not alter the King’s answer

“Do you trust me?”

“More than anyone.”

Merlin closes his eyes, holding his hands out to the side slightly as he lets out a deep breath. The storm, which Arthur and the knights had become entirely oblivious of despite it’s ruinous thunder and blinding flashes of lightening, quickly dissipates; blue sky and bright sun peek through the fading clouds. A gold shimmer ripples out across the ground from Merlin’s feet, spreading backwards like a wave over sand, turning pebbles and leaving the beach clean and fresh in it’s wake. The ground clears, bodies sinking into nothingness and fires being smothered by magic, even Morgause disappears into the dirt.

Arthur absentmindedly thinks that that could be seen as honorary or disgracing; he supposes it depends on what type of person you were before the end of your life. Merlin would see being entombed within the Earth itself as a blessing, he somehow thinks that Morgause, with her God complex and inflated feelings of infallibility, would find it... demeaning.

Merlin sags his head slightly, and when Arthur’s brain comes back into focus, mostly prompted by the gasping and widespread whispers of the uneasy army behind him, he sees that the barren fields of Camlann, soaked with blood and scorched by lightening, no longer exist. In their place was a vast meadow, bright with the colours of spring and summer; untameable wildflowers stood tall and crimson butterflies were the only reminders of the bloodshed that had watered this paradise before them.

Arthur feels the smile on his face before he had even made the conscious decision to smile, but he decides that today, of all days, he doesn’t mind accidentally wearing his heart on his sleeve. Trust Merlin to do something as unspeakable as rip an army to shreds with lightening, and then apologise for his dramatics by creating heaven on earth.

The King sighs before shaking his head slightly, letting out a short, disbelieving laugh. He can feel the sun on his skin, and his smile grows with the knowledge that the heat warming his cheeks was entirely unnatural for this time of year; Merlin really was pulling out all of the stops.

“You’re a gift to this world, Merlin.”

His voice comes out softly, as if he were afraid of ruining the peace, though he only adds to it; The King finally turns to his Warlock again and almost stumbles back at the immeasurable devotion shining from his now-blue-again eyes. His whispered response carries on the wind as if he were a part of it, and Arthur wonders just how much of this world Merlin has touched, just how much of this universe Merlin has created, extended himself to. Did the wind exist before Merlin? Did the sun? Did butterflies, or lightening, or the colour gold have any space in this universe before Merlin willed it? Gaius’ thick books say they have an answer, but Arthur thinks they might be lying:

“A gift to you, Arthur, only to you.”

THE END!

I’ve been looking forward to writing this one for a while, so I hope y’all liked it!! I LOVE writing BAMF!Merlin, (and BAMF!Mordred/Morgana as well so) :D

Same as always, you wanna extend it/write it properly/remix it, then that’s fine, but drop me message before hand and credit/tag me!! :)

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bontenten · 3 years

Text

Gently

Pairing: Kageyama Tobio x Onee-san Reader

Tags/Warnings: smut, incest(little bro Tobio), dubcon, feet, watersports, mention of alcohol and one line of blood

Kageyama winces when you press a wet cloth on his wound. Your face is just inches from his as you treat him with utmost attention and care. Kageyama grumbles and shoves your hand away.

"It's not that bad, just a scratch. That bastard has nothing on me."

You grip his chin and make him turn to look at you. "Just a scratch? Really, come on now, stop whining like a baby. You'll get an infection if it's not dressed. Sit tight." You blow gently on the wound. "It'll only hurt for a moment."

Kageyama pushes your hand away again and circles your wrist instead, holding it in place while giving you an unamused stare.

"Tobio," you begin in the stern voice that Kageyama hates.

"You need to stop treating me like a little boy,” he says bluntly. “I'm not a boy anymore."

You resist the urge to laugh in front of his serious face. "So you're a man now?"

"Well, yea."

"Legally speaking, sure. But you'll always be my little brother though," you say light-hearted, reaching with the other hand to give his hair a ruffle. Your hands barely run through his hair when Kageyama grabs that wrist too, cuffing both of them in his hold. “What can you do.”

"Today, I protected you."

"That you did, Tobio. And I'm still sorry that you got hurt." Your try to roll the conversation along and get back to the point. "So let's get you fixed up.”

"For all your smarts, onee-san, you're so stupid," Kageyama mumbles before tugging on your wrists to pull you forward and capture your lips with his. So stupid, he thinks, that you didn’t even realize that guy was trying to make dangerous moves on you.

You eyes widen at the presence on your lips belonging to the boy who used to rub his snot and cry when he scrapes his knee. It's not right. You twist your head to the side and leave the profile of your hair in Kageyama's face, the residual metallic taste of his blood burning on your tongue. "What are you doing?!" you hiss. "Are you crazy?"

"Yea, I am. I'm so fucking crazy about you. You have no idea, onee-san.”

You stare at him in disbelief, letting his words soak in. Your eyes dart between his fixated gaze and lips that are smudged with your lipstick. He senses your eyes are drifting, cups your face, and dips close again. Your breath comes out in soft, shaky puffs. Kageyama can still taste the lingering burn of alcohol on his tongue, but feels your body relax against his and accept his touches. His large hands gripping your wrist loosens and rests on your waist.

You feel his tongue lick a stripe up your neck and suckle on the flesh as he trails down towards your collarbone. The tiny noises from you don’t escape Kageyama’s ears as his movements becoming messy and rough. He scoops from under, hoisting you up so your legs are around his hips. You yelp, feeling a sharp pain shoot through your foot and knee. The loud sound of impact against ceramic and your “Ow!” sounding in the bathroom.

You wrap your arms around Kageyama’s neck tightly as he stumbles to your bed. He throws you down onto the mattress then pulls his shirt over his head in a swift motion. You take a few deep breaths and inhale the smell of your freshly laundered sheets. A few belt clicks later, you find Kageyama kneeling at the end of the bed, about to stalk over.

“Hmph,” you frown, poking a throbbing toe at his forehead. “Tobio. You have to be gentler when you’re with a woman. See?” You wiggle your toe slightly to make a point. “Because you’re so rough.”

A look of revelation overcomes Kageyama’s face, the same way he suddenly realizes the secret to an incredible volleyball technique. He cradles your foot, a hand supporting the arch and the other brushing over your toes.

You look confused at his movements and try to pull your foot away. "What are you-ngh—"

Kageyama brushes his lips across the pads, dragging them over the small ridges of each toe before kissing the spot where the pain is pulsating. His tongue darts out to lick the skin, increasingly confident and assertive, sucking and swirling around each of the toes.

"Tobio, it's dirty, Tobio!" you cry out in embarassment, arms crossed over your face to hide your burning cheeks. None of your squirms can stop his fixation.

"Not hurting anymore right?" he suggests, a hand beginning to knead the another sore spot right next to the kneecap. "I'm sorry, I wasn't careful enough.” He kisses the spot. “I'll be gentle, onee-san. I didn't know you were this fragile."

Kageyama reminds himself, with every little movement he makes, to be gentle, gentle, and even gentler. Light touches, careful touches. He doesn’t want you to think that he can’t do a good job, that this is just a sloppy, juvenile joke. But it’s so damn difficult!

The ripples of the bedsheets under you are like a watery sea where you are a siren. The soft moans that come out of your lips when your legs stretch out on the bunching fabric, the way your head turns on the pillow and you look at him through your blown pupils...Upon the first glance at your body, breasts bare under his eyes, nipples pebbled, Kageyama thinks he’s about to lose it. He almost can’t let his eyes wander further down beyond your navel out of fear he’ll spurt immediately.

It’s your hands that tug on his, quiet chuckles vibrating, and you ask him, “Ah, Tobio-kun, are you shy now?”

Kageyama’s face grows dark at the challenge. “Tch. I will make you regret saying that.” His large hands pushes your thighs open and he laughs at the sight of your drenched pussy. “Onee-san, you’re so lewd,” he comments before pressing his fingers onto your clit, stroking the bud while holding your squirming hips down firmly. “I think I’m done being gentle now. See, you’re more than ready for my cock.”

“Wait, Tobio, I—” You gasp, feeling Kageyama’s cock press into the entrance of your pussy, sinking deeper and deeper into your muscles. You feel the stretch of your body wrapping around him. “Go slowly!”

“Shit,” Kageyama mutters, clamping his fingers down on your flesh and bottoms himself into you completely. He groans, focusing his senses on how tight and real you feel around him. Not the makeshift grip of calloused fingers, not any random cunts. The thought makes his knees weak.

Kageyama shoves your legs up until your knees are pressed near your chin, calves resting over his broad shoulders. His fingers dig into your soft flesh as he begins to rock into you. Each time, he bottoms out with a wet squelch, balls slapping against your ass in soft thuds.

Kageyama fucks you mercilessly, all semblance of his thoughts to be gentle completly swept out by his feral desires.

“No more, no more..ah—I can’t!” you cry out.

It only encourages Kageyama further as he further tunnels into chasing his pleasure with every crying moan when you are pushed into the sheets, pounded into the mattress by his weight and strength. You can feel fast building warmth in your belly growing intensely, nearing eruption.

“No, no, no stop! Tobio!” you warn him, nails digging into his scalp and back. “I’ll make a mess...the sheets, I just—”

Kageyama doesn’t stop. His rough hands find your clit again, furiously tapping and rubbing the sensitive bud. You tremble and jerk around under the onslaught of sensations that shock your body.

"I'll do the chores...wash the sheets again. J-Just. Come.”

As though on command, the moment the syllables fall from Kageyama’s lips, you completely unfurl in a sob, orgasm crashing through your body as you spray all over him and soak the entire bedding with your piss.

Your heavy breaths press your breasts against Kageyama’s chest while his cock is still resting in you. The sheets are drenched. You can feel the wetness against your ass as more mixed fluids leak out from your pussy.

“T-Tobio,” you pant out, completely exhausted.

Kageyama is extremely pleased with how you look. He leans into your hand smoothing out the dark hair that is matted aginst his forehead in sweat. After basking against you a while, cuddling between the smell of sweat, sex, and piss, Kageyama rolls off and gets up from the bed.

Your eyes follow his perfectly chiseled body, landing on the angry red marks from your scratches. Kageyama turns back to you and flashes a wolfish grin. “Onee-san, you’re the wild one. Take responsibility.”

Your tender look immediately morphs into a disgusted frown.

Kageyama chuckles and picks you up from the dirty sheets, gently carrying you over to the bathroom. He’s careful around turns and doorways, paying attention so your feet or shoulders don’t knock into anything. So, he does learn, you think to yourself, relaxing against his chest.

#kageyama smut #kageyama x reader smut #kageyama tobio smut #hq smut #haikyuu smut #kageyama #tw:incest #tw dubcon #tw feet #tw:watersports #🍵.kageyama #emi.freshtea #i can't believe i wrote a serious smut for a karsuNO wtf is happening #i said today but uhhh yea i'll operate on hawaii time so HAH it's still TODAY

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pippytmi · 3 years

Note

16 + 4 + 2 (werewolf supercorp?)

It is not uncommon for Kara to wake up in a puddle of blood.

At this point she is immune to the shock that comes with it, really. She has adapted; knows all the best tricks to get stains out of her clothes, knows all the best laundromats that don’t ask any questions. Heck, she even has Alex’s ex-girlfriend on speed dial, just in case there is a freak chance the blood Kara wakes up in might be human (it has not happened yet, knock on wood).

But there are other parts that still take some getting used to. Like, for example, the loss of memory that comes with every night of the full moon. Because yeah, she understands why she wakes up in a pool of blood. What she doesn’t understand is why this time around she wakes up in a pool of her own blood, and in so much pain that it hurts to open her eyes.

“Ow,” Kara whispers to herself, twisting onto her side with a groan. Her clothes are gone—no surprise—but even as she is laying down on the cold, rocky forest floor, the only thing she can focus on is how much her head hurts. She’s dealt with branch scratches, sore legs and arms, the occasional plethora of bug bites, but never a headache. Her one comfort is that at least she has made it into the backyard of Sam’s cabin. It takes a considerable amount of strength to push herself up off the ground; walking is going to be much harder than anticipated.

If Alex saw her now, she'd—well first she would hit Kara over the head and yell at her about being dumb, but afterwards she would snicker. And probably hit her over the head again for good measure.

“Oh my God—!”

Okay, it’s official. Kara is now dead. Even if the stranger gawking at her is not the one who kills her, Alex definitely will.

And it’s that thought that makes Kara drop right back down on the floor, knocking the wind right out of her lungs, and she groans into the dirt pitifully.

“Oh, fuck,” the stranger whispers, almost as if to herself, scrambling to come to Kara’s side. “Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck this shit. Fuck!” Said stranger belatedly claps a hand over her mouth, green eyes widening in horror. “Holy shit, are you alive?”

Kara pitifully rests her cheek against the ground and tries not to look too offended. “Uh, kind of,” she replies. (So this must not be Sam’s cabin, then.) “Sorry. Am I in your yard? It is a very nice yard. Five stars.”

“No, it’s not my—I’m house-sitting,” the woman explains, though she is giving Kara a look that says really? That’s what you want to focus on right now?

“Well, it’s still a nice place,” Kara says, because she is polite and small talk is always a good thing to fall back on when you’re naked on a pile of dead leaves. “Wait, I don’t suppose you’re house-sitting for Sam, are you? Sam Arias, super tall, has a daughter who is freakishly good at checkers?”

Stranger-who-swears-like-a-sailor frowns. “How do you know Sam?” she asks suspiciously.

“She dated my sister. It was a whole—it’s a thing,” Kara says. “You know?”

“Wait. Are you Kara? Are you Alex’s sister?”

“Yes! So you do know!” Kara would grin if her face were capable of any emotion besides mind-shattering pain. “Then you must be Sam’s friend…uh, bear with me…Lena? Or Jess?”

“Lena,” says the woman, still notably wary, so Kara makes the decision to wiggle until she can prop herself up her elbows and look less, well, like a corpse.

“Hey, got it in one!” Kara says as cheerfully as she can muster. “Well, it’s nice to meet you. And can I just—uh, say—that you don’t have to worry. I won’t die here or anything. I know you would obviously be the number one suspect for murder and it wouldn’t be nice of me to put you through that.”

“…right. Never mind that you would be dead, or anything.” Lena begins to shakily unbutton her coat like a woman possessed, as if her doubt has morphed entirely into concern now that she has confirmation the freak naked in Sam’s backyard is not an entire stranger. “Here, this is long enough to cover you. Do you—do you need help getting up?”

“No, no, I’ve got it, thank you,” Kara insists, and gradually, she manages; she shifts sideways and then tentatively onto her butt, and accepts the coat when it’s all but thrown at her face. There is blood mixed in with the leaves and general guck beneath her, and she winces at the sight. “I’ll come back and clean this later,” she’s quick to add, and Lena frowns in response.

“Are you serious? Forget cleaning, you need—stitches, at the very least. I can take you to the hospital if—”

“Oh no, you don’t have to do that!” Kara blurts out, and with the adrenaline from that burst of energy she’s able to scramble to her feet. She is shaky, unsteady, but she manages to stay upright at least and she’ll count that as a win. “Shoot. I’m sorry for yelling. I just—no hospitals. I can’t do hospitals.” She has never had to form an excuse for this, and her mouth can’t quite wrap around the right words.

But Lena—green eyes wide and unsure, skin pale in the early morning light—nods, like she understands. “Okay,” she says. “No hospitals.”

“Thanks,” Kara mumbles, wrapping the coat tightly around herself. There are startling black spots in her vision and her head still feels like it was used as a piñata; she wonders what the heck her next move should be now. If Sam needs someone to house-sit, she must be out of the city. And if Sam is out of the city, Kara can’t exactly waltz into Sam’s house to wash all the blood off her body (and then call up Alex from the couch while stealing whatever ice cream Ruby picked). Sam lets her do that, sure, but that’s Sam. It would be pretty rude to do that when Lena is right here.

“Do you…” And Lena pauses, nose scrunching up as if something has just occurred to her. “I can give you a ride somewhere else, if you’d like. Back to your house?”

“No, that’s okay,” Kara hurries to decline, because how can she really explain that she lives in an apartment, and that if little old Mrs. Jensen saw her coming up covered in blood she’d finally succumb to her third heart attack? “Can I just use Sam’s phone to call my sister? Then I’ll come right back out here, I promise.”

“Why would you come back out here again?” Underneath her coat, Lena is wearing plaid pajama pants that are rolled at the ankle (Sam’s, most likely), and a tank top that is extremely fitted. Very, very well fitted. Like, you-can-tell-it’s-frigidly-cold-outside-kind-of-fitted.

Kara coughs and tries not to let on how her train of thought has twisted. “Because…I’m a stranger?” she tries. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Remember, if you die I’m going to be the first one they question,” Lena says, tilting her head expectantly in the direction of Sam’s cabin. “Come inside, warm up. Call your sister.” All things considered, she is far more concerned than Kara expected her to be—as if, somehow, ridding herself of the weirdo walking around bloody and probably concussed isn’t the very first thing on Lena’s mind.

So Kara doesn’t look a gift horse in the mouth; she accepts the offer. It’s a small comfort that if she really does get murdered by a total stranger, it won’t be while cold and naked.

Lena goes right into Sam’s room the instant they go inside, already gathering a million outfits for Kara to pick through. “The shower is fickle, but it does have hot water,” she says, adding a towel to the pile in Kara’s arms when she re-emerges. “You just have to—”

“Hit the wall twice, and give it a few seconds,” Kara finishes. “Yeah, Sam reminds me every time.”

“So you…visit Sam often, do you?”

“Uh.” And suddenly, despite the long, cold night she’s had, the air indoors feels a bit warmer than is comfortable. “Only sometimes.” Once a month, Kara thinks, and Lena crosses her arms and just stares.

Really stares, dragging those sharp green eyes up and down Kara’s whole body. Squints at the scratches on her face, scrunches her nose at the way Kara awkwardly shifts from side to side. Finally Lena speaks, and it’s only to say, “It’s you, isn’t it?”

“...come again?”

“It’s you. Sam told me she’s been helping out a friend with a—furry predicament—”

If it were possible to choke on air, Kara would be dead right now. “Did she really call it furry? But she’s also—!” She has to pause, now, because she feels an urge to clarify, “Wait. Are we talking about the same thing right now?”

Lena narrows her eyes slightly. “You mean talking about how you’re a werewolf?”

“Oh!” Head lighter, Kara sucks in a laugh that makes her ribs feel like they are splintering open. “Then yes. That’s good, I didn’t want you to think I was a—anyway. I didn’t think Sam told anyone.”

“Sam and I have been friends for a long time,” Lena says slowly. A beat. “She actually ate my hamster once.”

Kara winces. “Recently?”

“No! Back in the fifth grade,” Lena frowns, like she might’ve added dumbass at the end of the sentence. “I’m a grown woman. I don’t own hamsters.”

“What? Come on, having pets isn’t just a kid thing,” Kara says. “I used to have a cat, but he…”

“Oh my God, you ate him?”

Kara’s jaw drops. “What—no! He turned out to already have an owner, so she took him back. He just liked to wander into my apartment.” She hugs the clothing pile tighter to her chest, and tries her hardest to scowl. “I’m responsible, okay? Most of the time. I’m not dangerous.”

“Except to deer, or rabbits, or whatever else you killed last night?” Lena quirks an eyebrow, but surprisingly not in a manner that’s judge-y. Just…curious.

“Right,” Kara says defeatedly, and her head throbs enough that her grip on Sam’s clothes begins to falter. “Sorry. I wasn't trying to be defensive or anything.”

“That's alright.” And stranger still, Lena reaches out to gently touch the side of Kara’s head. “So does the same thing happen to you?”

“Huh?” The proximity has scrambled Kara’s brain momentarily, and she finds herself unthinkingly holding her breath.

“Do you also black out,” Lena clarifies. “Like Sam does, every time she shifts.”

“Oh. Yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s—a universal wolf thing,” Kara says.

Lena hums, and her hand retracts. “And are you a serial killer in wolf form?”

“Uh, I hope not? I’m pretty sure all this is…” Kara gestures over her body with one hand, still hugging the pile of clothes with the other. “Not human.”

“Okay.” Lena casually walks away, but pauses to throw over her shoulder, “I’ll help you clean up your head once you’re out of the shower. I’ve helped Sam a hundred times.”

“Are you—do you have some kind of healing magic, or—”

“Close. I’m an ER nurse,” Lena says amusedly, and when she smiles a dimple emerges on one cheek. “All the witches I know have fled the city, so I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”

“You joke, but Alex dated this witch once, and she hexed my sister to spill her first sip of coffee every time she went to take a drink for three weeks straight after they broke up,” Kara says, and Lena again scrunches her nose in that quizzical way.

“Seriously? Witches are real too?”

“Duh,” Kara says lightly. “What, you thought it stopped at werewolves? Please. I’m pretty sure the neighbor two doors down is a gorgon.”

“Well, it would explain her fondness of statues,” Lena says, strangely nonplussed. “I’ve never asked, but I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised at this point. How do you take your coffee?” As she asks, Lena deposits a few fingers of whiskey into a mug, and at Kara’s questioning look says, “Sorry, we’re all out of painkillers. This is as good as you’re going to get.”

“Maybe I’ll do better if it’s straight,” Kara says, unable to hide her grimace, while Lena shrugs a shoulder as if to say it’s your funeral.

So after Kara showers, she sits on the couch and sips gross whiskey out of a chipped mug that reads World’s Best Mom in bright pink letters. Lena has turned on the TV to the local news station—clearly she has stayed with Sam before—and a man on screen is recounting a tale of how he hit a giant wolf strolling too close to his farm with a baseball bat.

“If I had my shotgun I would’ve killed the fucker,” he swears, red in the face, and above her Lena gives a little scoff.

“What a dick,” Lena says, her hand steadily stitching up the wound on Kara’s scalp, and her voice has a hint of an accent; it’s really cute, actually, and Kara doesn’t even mind that the next poke of the needle is sharper than the others.

It is the strangest morning Kara has ever had. Drinking whiskey before eight in the morning, with a kind stranger who she’s barely met but is suturing her skin together, who smells faintly of lavender soap and strong black coffee.

“—National City is not safe when wolves are wandering close to homes—”

The scent of rich hot chocolate bubbling on the stove is beginning to fill the room, the ancient pipes are rumbling throughout the walls, and Lena’s fingers are soft against her head. Kara closes her eyes and decides that she will wait a little longer before she calls Alex to pick her up.

#i tried my best but tbh i dont know much of werewolf lore ? so i tried to go w/these two being soft #& autumn vibes of course #supercorp #supergirl #i need a fic tag #writing a meet messy is HARD idk how to make them cute !!

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l4verq · 4 years

Text

crossed out | b.b

bucky barnes x reader

in which you’re one of the names on bucky’s list

warnings : angst, fluff?, mentions of choking

fic : one shot

a/n : u know i’m a sucker for therapy bucky lol

He should have skipped today’s session.

Cause he’s starting to regret coming when she brings it up.

“You gonna tell me about her?” Cecelia questions, casually flicking through a thick folder labelled James B.B.

But it was never casual.

Bucky knew she was observing his every move, his every tick. And he’d been pretty good at faking through every session until now.

“I thought you were helping me make amends.” He forges an unamused smile, which was second nature now.

“Yes and that’s why I asked you about her.” She looks up from the folder, the smallest smile tugging at her lips.

“It says here that you guys were complicated.” She continues, eyes skimming over a particular page.

Complicated was the last thing he’d use to describe it.

Cause it was the one thing that gave him some clarity, hope that he could be deserving of love again someday.

“We used to date. We broke up.” He gruffs, crossing his arms.

Maybe he should fake a mechanical failure in his arm, reschedule for another time.

“Do you still love her?”

He doesn’t answer but it’s written all over his face and Cecelia can read him like a book.

She turns over his list that she’d assigned him to make, eyes trailing down names until it reaches a hastily crossed out name at the end.

“Why don’t we pick this up next week? I hope you’ll be more comfortable to talk about it then.” She hands him back the small, black notebook.

He hesitantly takes it back, his feet already springing to get out of the room.

Was it just him or was the air running out in this tiny room.

“And, James?” She calls out.

He looks back, slightly winded.

“Remember, sometimes you need to just take a leap of faith, trust your heart.”

He nods solemnly, almost tripping over his legs trying to get to the door.

Hands fumbling over the handle, he’s greeted by a rush of cool air when he finally opens the goddamn door.

He stuffs the notebook in his pocket, taking big strides towards the exit.

It’s the same everyday.

Keep his head down, one sharp left, stop by the nearby cafe if he feels like it.

But today, he takes a right, taking out his flip phone he prefers to the touch screens these days.

Punching in the only number he knows, his stomach’s doing flips.

Don’t pick up, don’t pick up.

“So you do know how to call someone.” Sam picks up after a few rings.

He could almost hear the stupid smirk.

“How are you?” He cringes, the grip on his phone tightening.

It’s a small pause before Sam chuckles, “Y/N’s doing fine. In fact, she just got back from a mission in Prague yesterday.”

Of course, you’d still be going on missions, it was the only thing you knew.

“That’s not why I called.” He huffs, leaning against his car now.

It was an old, beat up Honda that he’d fixed up from the local junkyard.

“Really? Then enlighten me.”

It was Cecelia’s fault for bringing you up. If she hadn’t brought her up, he wouldn’t be here doing this.

“Where is she?” He closes his eyes, wanting the ground to just crack open and swallow him whole.

“Right where you left her.”

He mumbles a hasty goodbye cause he’s not sure he can trust himself to keep his composure any longer.

Getting into the car, he pulls out the notebook, going through the list.

He’d ticked off the list last month, even adding a few more names just to avoid the crossed out name at the end.

He jams the keys in, the car purring to life, before he can change his mind.

The door is taunting him.

He doesn’t know how but it is.

A quick exhale and he raises his hand to knock on it, half hoping you won’t open it.

But you do.

He always loved your eyes cause they held so much life to them.

Like for now, confusion morphing to recognition and rage in an instant.

You’re in bad shape, he can gather from the slight limp and bruises.

It feels like forever before you call his name in disbelief, what he’s longed to hear for so long.

He wishes you’d curse him out, hit him or tell him to go away cause that’s what he deserves.

But you don’t.

Instead, your pretty eyes brim with tears.

“Don’t.” He grits his teeth, unable to meet your eyes.

He always hated to see you cry.

“Then, why’d you leave?” Your voice breaks as months of bottled up heartache pour out.

He had to.

You were the only right thing he’d done in a long long time and he couldn’t mess it up.

“I needed to fix myself before I could trust myself around you.”

He grimaces as he remembers the life draining out of your face, while his hands were wrapped around your neck.

That very night he’d left, requested for therapy and could only hope it would work.

But it didn’t.

There was no fixing anything, he’d realised that waking up from nightmares far too many times.

“You could have picked up the phone.” Your voice barely above a whisper, stinging like a nasty burn.

He almost did, everytime.

But he hated himself too much to allow that.

“I’m sorry.” That’s all he can whisper, fighting the urge to take you in his arms.

“If you’d just let me in, realise that I do understand you.” You’re basically pleading at this point but you don’t care.

“I know you do. But you don’t have to. You deserve a better guy.” He says the same thing when he left like a broken radio.

“There is no better guy for me, Bucky. Why can’t you get that through your thick skull?” You limp over closer to him.

You know he’s focused only on your limp, eyes filled with concern as they rake over your wounds.

“Does it hurt?”

The same thing he always used to ask after a mission while tending to your injuries.

“Yea, here.” You pat the left side of your chest, biting down a smile.

He has to fight back one too, but it’s kinda hard.

You meet his eyes, a little too long cause you’ve missed gazing into them every morning.

Maybe this is the leap of faith Cecelia keeps droning on about, he thinks as he leans in, “We should take a look at that, then.”

You sniffle, “I’m still mad at you.”

He laughs, which involuntarily makes you 2% less mad.

“I missed you.” He whispers, his lips inches away from yours.

You don’t have to say it back cause he knows.

He leans in closer, ghosting over your lips, waiting for your approval.

You close the distance, lips crashing into his almost in desperation.

Which you regret almost immediately cause you taste blood.

A split lip and kissing, not so pretty.

He pulls away and you mewl, pulling him back.

“You’re only making your lips worse.” He chuckles, hands slipping into yours.

Instead, he kisses your forehead, trailing all the way to your lips where he pecks them gently.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers again, head leaning on yours.

“I forgave you a long time ago. I was just waiting for you to come back.” You sob, tears springing out again.

He pulls you into his chest, steady hands you’ve craved for so long.

Gently rocking you back and forth, he strokes your hair, fleeting kisses to calm you down.

You’re struggling to keep your legs stable as your eyes grow heavy but you ignore the blatant aches in your body cause you don’t want to leave his embrace.

And he somehow always seems to notice.

“You need to rest.”

You shake your head, holding onto him even tighter.

He knows he won’t win against your stubborn ass so he lifts you up carefully, legs swinging over his arms while you snake your hands around his neck for support.

“Stay.” You mumble as he takes you in the room you two used to share.

And he does.

Boy, was Cecelia in for a ride next session.

a/n : im cringing as i post this🧎🏻‍♀️🔫🏃🏻‍♀️jsneyswjausowkaw but supeerr excited for tfatws this friday :)) also i named bucky’s therapist for convenience lol im pretty sure she’s not named in the first ep? i could be wrong tho

#bucky barnes #tfatws #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky imagine #bucky #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #the winter soldier #mcu #marvel

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freindly-neighbourhood-anarchist · 3 years

Text

☀︎︎-: 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍 :-☀︎︎

Kimetsu no yaiba x reader

°•.《 characters 》.•°

Rengoku, Giyuu, Shinobu, Sanemi

Tw: Swearing because Sanemi is Sanemi

____________________________________________

I'm definitely gonna binge write this series after watching the movie, I literally cant stop thinking about it--

Send in as much requests as you want!! :))

I do fluff, different AU's, angst and NSFW(we'll see).

Keep in mind, I havent read the manga. I'm caught up to the train Arc and that's it, so try not to spoil anything by requesting characters that havent appeared yet lol

« `` •"𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞~"• ´´ »

☼︎ ☀︎︎ʀᴇɴɢᴏᴋᴜ ᴋʏᴏᴜᴊᴜʀᴏᴜ☀︎︎ ☼︎

Holding hands is sort of a need for him-

He's huge with PDA and holding your small hand within his reassures him quite a bit. He never needs to ask to hold your hand, he just grips it whenever and wherever.

I feel like he'll sense when your nervous and be really perceptive, so he'd hold your hand to ground you in a way

It's highly effectve.

"Delicious!" Your energetic boyfriend chirped, eating his takoyaki with fervour and a bright smile.

You ate your own food from across him, shaking your head a little with a slight smile slanting onto your lips.

It's definitely been a long day, so winding down and eating with your amazing boyfriend is definitely a preferable way to end it.

He sort of sensed your stress as you came back from training, sweat sleek across your forehead. And thus, he ran a bath for you and then took you out for dinner to take your mind off of whatever was bothering you.

He's always had a keen intuition and was brilliant at reading emotions on others. It was a weird super power at this point. But he noticed how relaxed you were now that you were with him, it melted his heart.

His eyes flickered over your expression, his eyes soft with adoration and affection." This is certainly calming after a long day!" He exclaimed happily.

At his jolly aura, you nodded in agreement," Honestly... It's like you have some weird superpower to make me forget about whatever was annoying me. Kinda freaky." You shivered.

Letting out a hearty laugh, the man reached out, interlacing his long fingers with yours suddenly. The warmth of his skin sending goosebumps over your arms.

"I just know you too well! Nothing wrong or freaky about that!" His grin was filled with light.

Your fingers tightened around his, his warm skin seemed to be heating up your own body as well. Thank God, you were beginning to get cold anyways.

"Have I ever told you about how cute your hands are!" It was more of a statement than a question, pulling his hand and your hand closer to him so he could get a better glimpse at your soft hands." So tiny... So soft. It's like I'm being touched by an angel!"

"Geez, you're cheesy."

"You love it~!"

"... Fair point."

•«☔︎ 𝙜𝙞𝙮𝙪𝙪 𝙩𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙤𝙠𝙖 ☔︎»•

Bro I'm sorry, but I dont think he holds your hand much-

I feel like he thinks he doesnt need to show how much he loves you through actions, more so through blunt words.

But he will get the sudden urge to hold your hand every once in a while, so be prepared because he could get the jump on you at any point.

Doesnt like PDA that much, it makes him slightly uncomfortable because it's in public but I feel like he would get used to it later in your relationship.

Ocean-blue eyes stared at you hesitantly as you continued to speak about the new breathing technique you had learned.

Both you and Giyuu were walking peacefully through the garden you had grown over the years, the plants varying in different colours and sizes. They reminded him of you.

Your peaceful personality cued him to remember the petals of the flowers blowing gently in the breeze. Not to mention you smell very distinctly and sweet just like the flowers as well.

But as he walked with you in this haven, he felt pretty agitated and frustated. He hid it well with his usual deapan expressions, but he could feel the pit of the emotions growing bigger.

His hand twitched suddenly when the back of yours brushed against his, his cheeks tinting pink at the abrupt contact.

Gulping, he looked straight ahead with sharp eyes and a furrowed brow.

The atmosphere shifted.

And when you had stopped talking, he knew that you had noticed the harsh shift as well.

"Giyuu?... Are you feeling okay? You look like you're burning up." You questioned out of concern, a worried expression upon your face.

Shaking his head briefly, the ravenette continued to walk with his head staring straight ahead," I feel optimal. Why do you ask?" He was so obviously trying to change the subject.

You frowned a little at the stiff response and opened your mouth to respond but your boyfriend had beaten you to it.

"Let me h-... Hold your... Hand... Please." He uttered, looking down with red cheeks, an embarrassed scowl squirmed on his lips.

You were silent for a long while, making him wait nervously for your answer. What he wasn't expecting was the cute snort of laughter coming from you and grabbing his hand tightly within your own, your other hand wrapping around his forearm like it was a substitute teddy bear.

His cheeks heated up tenfold and he had to look away before you noticed.

"You're such a cutie. You don't need to ask to hold my hand you know?" You teased lightly, nudging him playfully by bumping your hip against his.

"I-it's embarrassing." He retorted.

"Whatever, cutie."

"No."

"Yes."

"Stop it."

꧁ꕥ 𝑲𝒐𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒖 𝑺𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒐𝒃𝒖 ꕥ꧂

She would sooo tease you for wanting to hold her hand-

Like, she would hold it obvi, but she'd tease you about it for a good 5 minutes before finally giving up lol

Flustering you is one of her favourite pastimes, it was what your relationship was built on top of in the first place. Teasing eachother was always a thing you guys did.

But Kocho takes teasing to a MAXIMUM.

It's like you guys are challenging eachother to a tease off and she just refuses to loose. She'd rather die.

Dramatic but true

What a fucking queen-

"Ara, ara~ what was that? You want to hold my hand?" The raven haired woman pressed her hand against her lips, raising a suggestive eyebrow at you." Oh~ How scandalous! You're saying we should do pre-martial hand holding? why, that's practically a crime!"

You deadpanned at your girlfriend's words," Holding your hand is a crime?..."

"Mmhm!"

"But we literally made-out yester-"

She smiled at you passive-aggressively," I'm afraid we can't hold hands until we're married! Too bad!" She sighed, pretending to seem devastated ," How could you suggest we do such a lewd thing? In public, no less! You're quite the little scoundrel, hmm?~"

Your deadpan only deepened," Well then... I guess I'll just have to marry you then, hm? So I can hold your hand for the rest of my life." You chimed out, a slight twinkle in your eye. At the sight of Kocho's cheeks tinting a bright red, you smirked in triumph." Oya~? What's that I see? Is that blush?" You poked her warm cheek affectionately," I think it iiiis~!"

Biting her lip, Kocho scoffed and rolled her eyes," Just because you won doesn't mean you-... Shut up." She huffed out, losing her composure.

" Aha! So I won." You grinned out," I think I deserve a prize for winning for like... the first time." You said that last part quickly.

" You're not getting a kiss, if that's what you're referring to!" She smiled up at you passive aggressively.

Now the win didn't even feel like a win.

I guess, Kocho will always win in the end.

You pouted at her, eyebrows furrowed," You're so petty...." You groaned out, before a cheeky grin crossed over your lips," How about letting me hold your hand instead?"

Kocho stared at your grin with an unimpressed look, before her eyes softened and a gentle smile spread onto her perfect lips." Wipe that cheeky grin off of your face and I might consider it."

A bright smile instantly spread onto your lips and you held out your hand expectantly for her to take it. Her radiant smile only widened and her hand settled into yours, her warm fingers closing over your own as if she was keeping them safe in her hold.

" Now you have to marry me." She stated simply," I want to hold your hand in mine for the rest of my life as well."

᯾༄𖦹.𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕒𝕘𝕦𝕫𝕒𝕨𝕒 𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕖𝕞𝕚 .𖦹༄᯾

BRUUUUH THIS FUCKING MAN-

Ok, so hear me out lol-

I have read up on his character a tiny bit and bro he's such a fucking SOFTY like-

If you were to ask him to hold your hand he'd highkey have to process what you said for like a minute or two before finally agreeing to it lol

He has such a tough-guy exterior when on the inside he's actually really caring to those who are important to him.

Definitely one of those characters who seem like pricks but they like something cute like cats or something-

"Uhm... Sanemi?" You spoke up suddenly, interrupting the peaceful silence.

Your boyfriend broke out of his daze of appreciating your beauty and hummed to let you know that he was listening, picking up some of his uneaten rice with his chopsticks.

"Can... Can I h-hold your hand?"

He choked on the rice he was eating, coughing into his fist and thumping his other hand against his chest to try and get the rice that shot down the back of his throat to go down.

You went to get out of your chair to help him, concern etched onto your face, but he held a hand up to stop you. Instead, you simply passed your water to him, as of which he chugged greatfully.

When he had finally gained his composure, he held out a slightly trembling hand, his cheeks tinted red as he let out a gruff," yeah... Of course you can, idiot. You don't have to ask..."

Adoration bloomed in your chest at his words and you grabbed his outstretched hand, instantly interlocking your fingers with his. Absentmindedly, you ran your thumb up and down his hand comfortingly as you smiled like an idiot to yourself.

Ba-dump.

Sanemi's heart thumped in his chest at the look of love on your face, feeling his whole body heating up. The wind pillar was known for being ruthless, intimidating and quite frankly... A bit of an asshole.

But around you? He's a completely different person.

Between you and his little brother, he's always going to have a huge soft spot for you both.

So he'll always treat you well.

Squeezing your hand lovingly, he let a slight smirk curl onto his lips," You look like a dumbass smiling like that.... You must really like me, huh?" He tried to tease.

"I don't like you."

Arrows shot through his heart, his smirk dropping in an instant," Oi-!"

You giggled at his response," I love you."

The frown on his lips wobbled a little, threatening to break out into an idiotic smile. Clearing his throat, he looked away from you and pressed the back of his unoccupied hand against his mouth to hide the smile that threatened to appear.

"Oh..." He could only respond with," y-yeah... Same here."

"You're so socially inept."

"I'm damn not!!" He grumbled, eyebrows furrowing," I fucking love you too!! Is that better?"

You grinned childishly, bringing his hand up to your mouth and placing a light kiss to it," much better."

It's safe to say that this was the day he vowed to marry you.

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mochegato · 3 years

Text

Even the Losers

Chapter 5

Chapter 1 Chapter 4

“Not quite the child you expected to be on the front page today, was it?” Lucius commented, falling into step with Bruce as soon as he exited the elevator on their offices’ floor.

Bruce shot him a slight glare. He heavily suspected the receptionist at the front of letting Lucius know he was on his way up so he could stage this ambush. “No, no it was not,” he gritted out. He loved Lucius. He did. But he was not looking forward to discussing this with anyone right now. He needed to talk to Sabine and figure out his next steps. He didn’t have time for teasing or hurt feelings, unless they were Marinette’s or his other children’s.

“Don’t think she expected it either. She was quite distraught when the reporters found her this morning,” Lucius noted calmly.

Bruce stopped and glared full force at him. “Why were you with her this morning?”

Lucius raised an unamused eyebrow at him. “Early morning meeting with her and her friend, Max Kante, the one who actually invented the fabric Ms. Cole tried to take credit for.” He continued walking toward Bruce’s office, not caring whether he caught up or not. If he wanted to be an overbearing ass, they could have a meeting with that tone and Bruce definitely wouldn’t be the one to win.

“Sorry,” Bruce grumbled, catching up to him.

Lucius nodded to let him know he accepted the apology. “She takes after you, you know. I could see how upset she was with the reporters’ questions but she masked it expertly. Seemed to completely shut down those emotions. If I didn’t know you, I might not have known it was all an act. Shut the reporter down without admitting anything too, or lying. Quite smart, that daughter of yours.” Lucius turned toward Bruce as they passed through Bruce’s office doors. “Must get that from her mother,” he teased.

Bruce let out a long breath. “Without a doubt. How was she at the meeting?”

Lucius raised both eyebrows at that question, otherwise not reacting at all. “You haven’t spoken with her yet?”

Bruce focused on his desk as he sat behind it. “I haven’t had the opportunity yet,” he hedged.

Lucius narrowed his eyes slightly but answered the question. “She was brilliant. She is brilliant. She was calm and collected. Engaging and polite. Very insightful. You would never know she had been accosted and almost assaulted a few moments before. Completely professional.”

“What do you mean ‘almost assaulted’?” Bruce growled.

“Particularly aggressive reporter. I gave PR and security his name and picture. We’ll have a restraining order put out and he won’t be allowed at any Wayne events,” he answered calmly.

Bruce squeezed the arm rest on his chair until it fell off in his hand. He let out an annoyed growl and threw it in the garbage. He pushed the intercom on his desk phone, more aggressively than necessary. “I’m going to need a new chair, David.”

He slammed the button again before he had the chance to respond and let out a long deep breath to calm himself. “It’s already started. It hasn’t even been a day.” He shook his head and looked up at Lucius. “Can you see about getting a restraining order for her personally as well, please? And how was the meeting?” Bruce asked.

“It was successful. Mr. Kante seems extremely excited about our contract. He’s looking over it today, but I expect he’ll begin working for us as of next week. I’m still working on your daughter though,” he mused.

Bruce choked and looked back at him. “Excuse me!”

“To work for us,” Lucius tried to disguise the amused glint in his eyes, but not too hard. It was interesting seeing Bruce acting so disconcerted, and not pretending for an audience, actually feeling it. “She helped Mr. Kante develop the fabric and understands how best to show it off. She would be invaluable to have on the project. Hell, she’d be invaluable to have in the company.”

Bruce furrowed his brow in confusion. “I thought Mr. Kante developed the fabric.”

“He did. He definitely figured out how to make it work, but she was a significant help. Her insights and advice were key. She tried to deny it but he kept insisting. Without both of them, there wouldn’t be any fabric. Not to mention she’s the one that discovered Rabler and Cole were stealing ideas. She created the trap and presented the evidence.” Lucius couldn’t keep the proud tone out of his voice.

Bruce’s lips turned up in a wide, proud smile. “Yeah?” Lucius nodded with a proud smile of his own, albeit smaller than Bruce’s. Bruce just stopped himself from saying ‘that’s my girl’ because he wasn’t sure he got to make a statement like that. Not when he hadn’t been involved in bringing her up in any way. But it didn’t stop his chest from puffing up with pride at the knowledge.

She was smart. She was caring. She was creative. She was insightful and brilliant. She was healthy and unscarred. She was everything he hoped she would get to be growing up away from him. He must have done something right. But the idea of having her work next to him like Tim did, getting to see her every day… He smiled at the thought. “How successful do you think you were getting her to agree?”

Lucius hesitated. “Not very,” he admitted slowly. “I don't know the nature of your relationship…” He watched Bruce carefully as he spoke. “… but she seemed to respond positively when I stressed that I wanted her because of her skill, not because of any association with you.”

Bruce looked down and nodded. “There is no relationship. She didn't know.”

“So her being your daughter isn't the reason if you manipulated Candice into looking into her and offer her to the rest of us as a possible designer for the product like it was her own idea?” Lucius raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

“I knew. She didn't,” Bruce admitted.

Lucius nodded in understanding. “Until when?”

“This morning, I imagine,” Bruce sighed.

Lucius raised an eyebrow at him, vividly recalling her behavior at the gala. The way she’d balked at meeting him in his office at WE. The way she’d frozen immediately upon seeing Bruce, all her fire and confidence falling instantaneously. The way she’d been almost begging for a way out from having to spend time with Bruce. “You think she didn’t know before the gala?”

Bruce scrunched his face in indignation. “No. Sabine would have told me if she’d told her.”

Lucius shook his head incredulously. “Alright.” If Bruce wanted to believe that, he wasn’t going to correct him. “So you were going to stay out of it and manipulate everything from behind the scenes? Only exposing your relationship when you felt comfortable with it?” Bruce looked down and nodded.

Lucius narrowed his eyes at him, his gaze suddenly sharp. He tossed the file in his hand onto Bruce’s desk. “I didn’t take you for a coward, Mr. Wayne.”

Bruce sighed as he watched him walk out of the room. His gaze fell on the file Lucius had left behind on his desk, the file on DCD with Marinette’s picture on the front. He pulled the picture off of the file to look closer. He smiled as his mind flashed back to innocent baby eyes blinking back at him. Her eyes hadn’t changed in twenty years. Still the same bright, brilliant, hopeful eyes. His mother’s eyes. He could see it almost as soon as she was born. He could never allow those eyes to be hurt, could never bear to see them in pain, which is all his life seemed to be.

“Then you don’t really know me,” he mumbled as he put the picture back and turned away, his eyes landing on the phone. He took a deep breath and got ready for the conversation he had to have next. He picked up the phone and dialed the number he knew by heart. He squeezed his eyes shut in frustration realizing he had memorized it not because he’d actually dialed it enough to have the muscle memory, but because he’d intentionally committed it to memory.

“That took longer than expected,” Sabine answered on the second ring, annoyance clear in her voice.

Bruce let out a deep sigh. He wasn’t expecting this call to go well, but he needed her help. “I was handling the rest of my family. They didn’t take to the news that they had a sister I never told them about too well.”

“Shocking,” Sabine deadpanned. “And how did Marinette take it?”

Bruce hesitated unsure of how to answer that. “You haven’t spoken with her yet.” The disappointment in her voice was almost palpable. Bruce could almost feel it slapping him across the face and pulling him down to her level.

“I don’t want to mess this up,” he admitted more honestly than he had intended. “More than I have already. I don’t want to drive her away by saying the wrong thing,” he chuckled mirthlessly at himself again, “and we both know that’s absolutely something I would do. I need to know the best way to approach her. What do I need to do?”

Sabine sighed and Bruce could hear her shuffling around until letting out a lighter sigh like she was sitting down. “Well, everything’s going to be pretty raw for her. That’s the first thing. She hasn’t had time to process this. She needs to process in order to know how she wants to respond. If you approach her before she’d had time to process, she’s going to freak out on you or just shut down completely, cold, detached. Did I mention she sometimes takes after you, especially since Hawkmoth?

“But, she tends towards anxiety and overreaction spirals that she has to be brought out of. Her friends are there, so see if she wants them with her whenever you meet. They’ll know how to bring her out of it and calm her down. She might need a few more days before she can meet in person, but don’t wait until then to contact her.”

Bruce nodded, fighting the urge to take notes. That would be inappropriate right? To write down psychological insights into his own daughter? “Yeah, a few hours isn’t all that much time to process,” he agreed absentmindedly, still trying to figure out how many notes would be acceptable. He almost jumped in his seat when Sabine started cackling. He did accidentally ram his arm hard enough to bruise on the point sticking up from the remnants of the broken armrest.

He sputtered until she took pity on him. “You think she’s only known for an hour?”

Bruce paused and stared at the phone, trying to process her words. “You told her?” he was too shocked to be upset yet.

“No,” she answered quickly. “I don’t know how she found out but she knew before today.”

“You think she knew when she planned to come here,” he said incredulously.

“No, definitely not when she first planned it,” she corrected him.

“How can you be so certain?”

Sabine chuckled ruefully. “She's not like us Bruce. She can't lie to save her life. She's terrible at it. She wears her heart on her sleeve. If she knew she was going to see her biological father for the first time, without him expecting it, she would’ve been anxious, fidgety when she told me the plan to go to Gotham. She wasn't. This was all about Max.

“I have no idea what point between last Monday and today she figured it out. But, I can say that she's not answering my calls now. I expected her to call and laugh about it or get anxiety about it because she felt bad for causing you trouble. She didn’t. She asked Adrien to let us know she needs space. So she knew.”

Bruce let out a frustrated groan. “She's upset.”

Sabine took a beat before responding. “I'm not sure since I haven’t gotten to speak to her about it. But, knowing her I’d bet on confused rather than upset. Hurt. Betrayed. Can you blame her?” There was an extended pause while they both tried to process what they knew and how to respond.

After a minute of silence, Sabine spoke up a wry tone to her voice. “You know, she’s always been an extremely cheery child. Wouldn't know she was related to you at all when she was younger,” she laughed lightly, “well, people who bought into your socialite persona might, but nobody that knows you, really knows you and your brooding nature. She always tries to see the best in everyone and bring it out.

“She used to come into the bakery when we had customers and no matter what mood they were in, they would leave smiling. Even the ones in the worst mood would be laughing by the time they left. She just had that effect on people.

“But the one thing she could never stand, that drove her crazy, was a liar. She can’t stand lying and liars.” Her voice suddenly turned sharp and serious. “And she just found out, and not from us,” she emphasized, “that we lied to her about this her whole life and that you never wanted her around but did want other kids around.”

“That is absolutely not the case and you know it,” Bruce roared instantly.

Sabine made a few placating noises. “You know that. And I know that… on some level. But she doesn't.” She stressed. “I have no idea how you’re going to prove it to her now. Because all she sees is that you walked away when she was one and never turned back. Not until the media got involved and forced you to. And she doesn’t even know that much actually. Really all she knows is you walked away. That's what you're going to be up against; her thinking that she is a burden, a prop for you, that all your interest is feigned.”

“Inadequacy issues,” Bruce nodded. Memories of Damian’s first years in the manor flashed through his mind. He shuddered at the memory of Damian trying to kill Dick his first night and trying to kill Tim the first time he saw him, believing he was interfering with his birthright. “But not violent, right?” he asked cautiously. Because if she was anything like Damian, they were going to have to take some precautions, not that Sabine had given him any reason to suspect that. But then again, it would mean she wanted to be part of their family, so that was at least a starting point.

Sabine laughed. “Marinette violent? She’ll rip you to shreds if you touch one of her friends, but verbally. She couldn’t fight her way out of a paper bag.”

Her reassurance made Bruce frown more. That was good… kind of. He didn’t have to worry about her attacking the other kids, not that he was worried about that, really. Nothing he had ever heard about her or seen so far would indicate that was something he needed to be concerned about. But that also mean she had no way of protecting herself if she ever got kidnapped or caught in a rogue attack.

Maybe that was something Damian could help her with. He was an excellent fighter and it was something he greatly enjoyed. He felt at ease when he was practicing or sparring. Maybe that was a way they could bond, Damian sharing something important to him. Bruce immediately grimaced at the idea. There was no way Damian teaching someone with no fighting experience how to fight ended well for either of them. It was more likely to result in a frustrated Damian and a bloodied, bruised, and scared Marinette.

Dick! Dick could teach her, or Tim. Both also excellent fighters and both much more likely to go slowly, easing her into something her body had never been used to. Bruce nodded to himself. Dick would jump at the chance to work with her. And Tim, although less enthusiastic, would be more than willing to help make sure she could protect herself.

Bruce took a breath and focused back on the conversation at hand. “So… go slowly. Ask if she would be okay with meeting first. Give her time to adjust before the meeting. Try to figure out how to reassure her my interest in a relationship with her has nothing to do with the media.” He nodded with a grimace. “That shouldn’t be too hard.”

He could hear Sabine’s reassuring smile through the phone. “As long as she’s had time to process, it should be okay. She’s helped friends go through the same thing. It shouldn’t be too hard once you get past the initial part.”

“Right. I can do this.” Bruce said, more to himself than Sabine.

“And Bruce?” Bruce was immediately tense from the edge in her seemingly sweet voice. “Protect our girl. This is a lot for her all at once.”

Bruce breathed out a relieved sigh. “I will.”

“Because if you don’t, not even Batman will be able to protect you.”

Bruce blinked a few times and opened his mouth only to snap it shut quickly, unsure if he even wanted to figure out if that was a veiled reference or not. After a few seconds he nodded resolutely, deciding it didn’t matter. “I understand.”

“Good day, Bruce,” Sabine said sweetly.

“Good night, Sabine,” Bruce answered with a smile, wondering just how much of her mother Marinette had replicated.

Chapter 6

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