#his faint smile when he’s finally beaten and is near the end. someone wants me dead

[kitamars]

enmi gintoki…………… orz

[idy-ll-ique]

Touch.

Pairing: Mob Boss!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Warnings: age gap, mentions of blood, graphic descriptions of violence, death

Requested: nope

Summary: "touch her and I'll kill you" but Bucky is a man of his words.

Author's Note: Hiya peeps! Okay, so regarding the ending; there's two ways to look at it. 1) soft-dark!mob!bucky or 2) arranged marriage au with a twist. you can decide that for yourself. enjoy!

---

"Appreciate it, Marvin, but really, I'll be okay," Y/N assured her coworker, giving his arm a gentle squeeze. The single dad of 2 still looked unsure. "Y/N, it's very late, please…" She continued shaking her head. "Please. My house isn't that far," she tried and he gave up. "If you say so. Let me at least walk you to the gates." She allowed him to do that.

They chatted as they walked. "How are Eva and Evan?" she grinned at him. Marvin smiled bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck. "Eva said her first word yesterday," Marvin admitted and Y/N squealed. "Ooh, what was it?!" she asked excitedly. "It was their nanny's name, actually." She smirked at the way he turned pink.

Y/N had met his kids' nanny once; she was a beautiful woman and Y/N knew Marvin had a crush on her. Her name was… Nicole, if she wasn't mistaken. "Really? That's another reason why you should ask that woman out." Marvin jokingly shoved Y/N and she laughed harder as they stood near the gates. "See you tomorrow!"

"Bye!" Y/N waved and started walking down the dimly lit street, humming under her breath. Thinking back to her chat with Marvin, a smile bloomed on her face and she chuckled to herself, shaking her head. "Oh, Marvin, you idiot," she snorted under her breath, freezing when she heard footsteps behind her. "Hi there." Slowly turning around, she saw a man.

Instinctively she took a step back; he was a bad man, he gave those vibes. "No," she said flatly and turned to leave, pausing out of fear when he harshly grabbed her arm. He spun her around and his eyes widened when they landed on her face. "Y/L/N's daughter, aren't ya, ya pretty thing," he hissed in her face and she winced.

"Let me go."

"Now that's one thing I can't do, my dear," he sighed dramatically and Y/N forced a glare on her face despite being shaken to the core. Truth was, her father ran a mob. They dealt with arms and weaponry and since Y/N had a soft soul, she had rejected her father's decision of her taking over the mob after him. He respected that, was relieved, even; he didn't want to put his daughter in danger.

Her father had a friend, young (and very good-looking, she had to admit). His name was Bucky Barnes, and he ran his own mob. His mob was bigger and more famous than her father's, he practically owned a sixth of the city. She had heard talks of her father handing his mob over to Bucky after his retirement a few years down the lane.

"Let me go," she repeated, trying to keep her voice as steady as possible as she blinked back tears. "Come on angel, I'll make it worth your time. It's been a long time since I've been with a pretty girl like you," he crooned and Y/N scrunched her nose, the action earning her a sharp slap on the cheek from the man. She cried out in pain.

Then she managed to wrench her arm away from his grip, moving to run away but this time he grabbed her waist, forcing her to elbow him in the gut. He pulled away again and she turned, placing a firm slap on his cheek as she seethed, daring him to put his hands on her again. He did, circling an arm around her shoulder as he pulled her in. She leaned forward and bit his arm. He hissed.

"You bitch!"

"Let go!" she screamed this time and he slapped her again, clamping a hand over her mouth. "I'm going to fuck the brat out of you," he whispered dangerously and Y/N's eyes watered as she tried to get away from him. A third slap, this time his ring cut her cheek. A drop of blood trickled down her soft skin and the man hummed appreciatively.

"Wh-What's your name?"

He stopped and considered her for a minute. "Rumlow," he answered simply and she started wiggling in his grip again. "Stop that!" he screamed and threw a punch at her face, hitting her square in the jaw. A fight broke out; Y/N hit him back by slapping him on the cheek again and Rumlow proceeded to choke her. Her vision going hazy she gasped and kicked him.

Straight in the crotch.

Rumlow's hands left her body as he bent forward, cupping his crotch in pain. Finding new strength, she pushed him and with nothing to ground him he fell, giving Y/N enough time to escape as she ran away, glad that she had decided to wear sneakers that day. There was only one thing on her mind; her home, which she shared with her parents.

I just want to sleep.

Coughing at times, she reached home 15 minutes later and opened the door, thinking that her parents would be asleep by then. Her watch said it was 12:30 am. Unfortunately, as she threw open the front door, she froze again for in the doorway stood her parents and in front of them, Bucky. He was holding his jacket, signalling that was about to leave.

He turned to look at her and his eyes immediately took in all the bruises that had formed on her face, as well as her clothes which were askew and the handprint of someone gripping her arm. "Y/N!" her mother exclaimed worriedly, almost fainting at the sight of her daughter looking so beaten up. Y/N's eyes snapped towards Bucky when he spoke.

"Come with me."

Without questioning his authority Y/N followed Bucky up the stairs and into the study. The moment the doors closed behind them he took her face in his hands, examining the bruises. The noise of her parents making their way upstairs stilled him for a moment but they simply walked past the study towards what he concluded was the master bedroom.

Bucky had also liked Y/N for a long time. Her parents had introduced her to him when she was 20; he was much older than her but towards the end of the day, when his friend had asked, "What do you think about my daughter?" he couldn't bring himself to lie. And surprisingly, her father was ecstatic at the idea of Bucky dating his daughter.

Well, at least he had her parents' approval.

The moment the door to the master bedroom closed, Bucky's hands resumed their motions. Y/N stood as still as possible despite being in a lot of pain, not wanting to ruin the sudden, personal moment that they were having. He had always been civil with her; never talking to her as more than a friend, never touching her for long but oh, today was much different.

Bucky carefully lifted her jaw, noticing the way she unintentionally flinched when his fingers came in contact with her chin. A broken jaw. She was also bleeding from the cheek and a trail of blood went down the corner of her lips. Barely being able to contain his anger he swiped the blood away, causing Y/N to shudder.

Tears pooled in her eyes as her skin started itching and aching. His hand left her face and gently curled around her arm, lifting it so he could get a better look at the handprint. Not one word was spoken during the entire exchange as Bucky took note of all her injuries. She suddenly lifted her hand to wipe her tears and tilted her head further up, exposing her neck.

Bucky took in a sharp intake of breath. Her neck was covered in deep purple, red and blue bruises. Someone tried to choke her. He wasn't able to contain his anger anymore but he tried his best as he finally looked Y/N in her eyes. She stared back at him, whimpering. "Who did this?" The words came out a hiss. "B-Buck…" she choked out.

"Y/N?" he whispered, bringing her hand to his lips. The intensity of the situation hit her then; Bucky liked her. Momentary happiness washed over her but there were more important things to care about. "Bucky," she breathed and leaned forward, pressing herself closer to him, wrapping her arms around his torso.

One of his hands cradled her head, discreetly checking for injuries there as his other arm went around her waist. "I need a name, sweetheart," he hummed quietly, too quietly. "R-R—" she stammered but stopped as her wounds unknowingly caught on fire at the letter. "Rumlow?" Bucky blurted out.

He didn't think that was the name she'd take but Y/N pulled away from him with a look of disbelief on her face, causing his worst fears to come true. Rumlow got to you. Fuck, that bastard was dying today. "It was him?!" Bucky gasped and Y/N nodded. "How did you know?" she croaked out, wincing when pain shot through her throat.

"We— We've got a pretty famous rivalry going on, sweetheart, surprised you didn't know that."

"Sorry, don't keep up with mob news."

He chuckled for a moment before sobering up; straightening his shoulders as a dark look crossed his face. "I have to go now, you take care of yourself, okay?" He moved to leave when Y/N pressed a hand to his chest, stopping him. She leaned on her tiptoes and gave him a quick kiss on his cheek, the action causing butterflies to flutter in his stomach.

He gently turned her head and pressed his lips to hers in a chaste kiss. "I'll visit tomorrow," he whispered and she nodded, a smile forming on her lips. "I'd like that very much." With a smile of his own he kissed her forehead and they both left the study, making their way downstairs. Bucky left the house and Y/N turned to see her mother standing at the top of the stairs.

"Your daddy has called the doctor, dear, he'll be here in 15 minutes."

"Okay, ma."

---

"Rumlow, you motherfucker!" Bucky roared as he stormed into the bar where he was sure his rival was. Behind him walked in his right-hand men Sam Wilson and Steve Rogers, followed by 15 of his men. Rumlow looked up from his corner, his eyes going wide at the furious look on Bucky's face. While he had seen the look a thousand times, something was different tonight.

Bucky spotted him and strode forward, easily pushing aside the men who came to their boss' defence. Rumlow gasped when Bucky grabbed him by the throat and smashed his skull against the table, eliciting a hiss and a low groan from the man. "You fucking dare—" Bucky began as he lifted him up, only to punch him square in the jaw like he had Y/N.

"You fucking dare put your hands on her!" Bucky shouted but Rumlow's head was spinning after he'd hit the table. For the first time, he realized, he was afraid. Of Barnes. In the background, Bucky's men, outnumbering Rumlow's men, fought. "You hurt her and now you're going to pay!" Lifting an empty bottle of vodka off the table with his free hand, Bucky smashed it on Rumlow's head.

Pieces of it got stuck in his scalp as Rumlow fell unconscious. All Bucky saw was red. He couldn't physically bear the thought of someone hurting his girl and being true to his words… "I promised her father," Bucky breathed out as he threw more punches at Rumlow's dying body, "No one was going to hurt her."

Another punch to the face. "I told him, anybody who touches her dies," Bucky hissed, "And yet you dare— I'm a man true to my words," Bucky promised in a sinister tone, knowing that he was talking to himself since Rumlow was long gone. His hand closed around Rumlow's neck. "You touch her—" He squeezed, "You die."

And Rumlow's dead body slumped on the floor.

The fight around him stopped instantly.

"We're done here."

---

"Princess?" Groaning softly, Y/N turned away from the voice and pulled the covers tighter around herself. "Away," she mumbled and heard a soft feminine laugh as well as two manly chuckles behind her. "You've been asleep a long time, baby," a familiar voice whispered, placing a hand on her arm. Her eyes flew open and she looked up, straight at Bucky.

"Oh my God!" Jumping up, she threw her arms around the man and buried her face in the crook of his neck, causing him to laugh. Smiling at each other, her parents left the room, leaving the two lovebirds alone. They were sure Bucky could handle breaking the news to her by himself. "Good morning," he greeted as he sat down, pulling her on his lap.

"Do you really like me?" she whispered, realizing that they had not made it explicitly clear last night. "Of course I do, princess. You're mine," he spoke in a possessive tone. "I'm yours," she agreed as she burrowed closer to him. "And no one touches what's mine and gets out alive." Y/N took a few moments to register those words.

When she did, she pulled away from him, still straddling his lap as she stared at him, jaw dropped. "You…" He nodded and Y/N's eyes went wide. Though he was delivering the news of someone's death, Y/N couldn't bring herself to feel bad. He had attacked her, he got what he deserved. "I— I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything, I just wanted to tell you what I did. We can talk about something else," he offered and a smile immediately bloomed on her face. "How long have you liked me?" He laughed before cupping her face, pulling her down to press his lips to hers. "Ever since I met you 5 years ago, doll, I was smitten." Y/N gasped against his lips.

"Ever since you met me?! Me too!"

"Really?" He grinned broadly at the look of excitement on her face. My sweet angel. "Really! I— I think I might… I think I might love you but it's too early on—" she stammered but Bucky took her hands, tears starting to glisten in his eyes at her words. She loves me. "Princess, I love you too," he admitted and she paused.

"Bucky, I love you!" she smiled hugely and hugged him tightly. Bucky quietly wiped his tears off, pressing a soft kiss to her neck. He could see the bruises fading away and that calmed his heart. She's safe with me. And I'm never letting her go. "So, there's some news…" he continued and she pulled away, a curious look on her face.

"What is that?"

"Your father is retiring. I'm gonna take over the mob now." Y/N squealed and clapped her hands; she knew her father made a great decision. Bucky was more than competent. "Congratulations!" she shouted and jumped out of his arms, running out of the room to wish her father the same. Bucky chuckled as he stayed there for a moment more, running his hand through his hair.

"Can't wait to make you my wife, baby."

---

A/N: Three Bucky fics in a row 👀 leave a like if you enjoyed, thanks for reading! I really appreciate it (and thanks for 430 followers lol I love every single one of you)

[stardustincarnate]

SAY YES TO HEAVEN // L Lawliet x Reader

word count : 2989 genre : fluff <333 song inspiration here!

The day marked as a cloudy Wednesday in England. The air was mildly harsh and cold, the wind blowing my bangs back as I looked up to the sky with a smile on my face. My heart throbbed in a feeling I couldn't explain. It was more than just euphoria. I was feeling nervous, excited, happy— all the emotions were mixing inside me, but I was mostly happy, and I became overwhelmed that I didn't notice I dropped a single tear.

"Why are you crying [Y/N]? Don't!!"

"I suppose it's normal for someone to cry before getting married. Am I right [Y/N]?" Mello asked as he held my other arm. I softly nodded and chuckled before looking at the time. I soon told the three of them that we should be heading to the said location already. I certainly didn't want to be late for my own wedding, even if it's just a minute.

Matt and Mello were bickering at each other as they held either sides of my arm. Near was walking in front of me, silent as usual. I only smiled while observing them. I found it cute that I was being accompanied by these little successors who kept on joking and making me smile along the way. As we left Wammy's House, we took a hidden route that would lead us to an English garden that is also owned by Mr. Wammy.

By the time we've reached the garden, I told them to halt for a moment as I wanted to fix the creases on my dress first. I wore a simple yet elegant looking one. And I also needed to make sure I still looked nice.. at least for L's eyes.

"Guys, I need a mirror."

The three of them looked at each other before shrugging and looking at me. "None of us have one."

I puffed my cheeks, frantically fixing every imperfections I could see in myself. I gently touched my hair just to make sure that it was still styled and untangled. I lost count of how many times I asked them about how I looked— I couldn't help it.

"You look magnificent [Y/N]. Don't worry."

"Wow.. he actually talks." Matt playfully whispered to my ear. I lightly elbowed him before thanking Near who was slightly smiling at me. We had stayed on the entrance for a moment until we heard something coming from the structure on the back of the garden. It was faint, but I knew it was the sound of the piano.

My feet decided before my brain and I found myself already walking ahead of them towards the structure. The heavenly tune which was growing more and more loud had already ascended my soul to the heavens. It felt as if I was in paradise, add the scenery I was currently stepping foot on for more visuals. The flowers swayed to the rhythm of the wind, with few petals lying on the ground and leaves raining down on me.

My heart throbbed in euphoria, causing a smile to form on my lips the moment I stepped inside the opened vintage structure. The place almost resembled a Cathedral with it being so huge on the inside, the only source of light was the pale rays of the sun that barely made it through the heavy clouds above. Even the ventilation was natural as we were relying on the frigid wind that seeped through openings high up above and on the sides, including the opening that I just entered on. Shadows were playing on the walls and some amount of dusts were on every corner. And despite it being an opened construction, the melody of the piano still somehow managed to echo, giving it a rich surround sound.

My three companions soon catched up to me, walking behind me, holding me a little as I wandered deeper until the image of the man who was playing the piano became clearer to my vision. His back was facing us as he let his slender fingers continue creating the heavenly tune that was the only thing we could hear. He was wearing a suit, I could tell, and even if I had only seen the back I knew damn well that he looked good in it.

But to be honest, in my eyes, he'd certainly look good with anything.

Even without clothes—

Shush! What was I thinking? That would have to wait...

Say yes to heaven...

I stepped closer and closer, and then I realized that my little companions were no longer accompanying me at al—- but instead, they had ran up to L, placing a crown of flowers with different hues which I had no idea where it came from above his head. Mello held another flower crown, and the three hastily ran back to me.

Say yes to me...

I kneeled down to match their heights, with Mello soon placing the flower crown above my head. I smiled and blushed, murmuring a thank you.

I've got my eye on you...

L gave me a brief glance, a soft smile on his face. My heart thumped loudly as I got closer to the center. And there I was, standing beside the grand piano he was using as the music ended.

I've got my eye on you...

He closed his eyes as if savoring the moment of playing the last notes. Dumbfounded, I stared at his beauty, all the overwhelming emotions mixing inside me, causing me to slightly tremble.

L stood up from his seat, his hunched figure walking closer to me until we were facing each other. He looked down to me with the softest gaze, and even though his smile was only small, I could tell he was just as happy as I was. I covered my mouth, smiling, with tears also threatening to fall from the corners of my eyes.

Mr. Wammy stepped and halted in front of us. I beamed as I looked at him, and then back to L. His eyes gleamed even under the dull light, filled with glee that I almost cried at the spot.

Well, every bride really does cry on her wedding day..

All that small and huge bumps in the journey of our relationship is what made us what we are right now. It helped us grow stronger, made us realize that there's nothing like a perfect relationship, but there is a beautiful one. The scars in our relationship is what made it even more beautiful. Our wedding felt like some sort of achievement— not only because I could confirm I was the luckiest woman in the world for being the world's greatest detective's lover, but also because that day was our trophy. After all the hardships we went through, we still ended up there— we still won.

And isn't it beautiful to think that in the end, even after all the difficulties we've encountered that led us to almost giving up, we still win?

We're still winning.

And I was glad that I never gave up on him, because God knows how much I love him, even though sometimes he's unbothered, offensive, and seemed not to give a fuck about me at all.

"Don't cry. You'll ruin your make-up." L whispered. I chuckled, about to rub my eyes, but I realized that I was wearing mascara so I only looked up and smiled.

"I'm just happy. I mean.. y-you're finally going to be my husband. Oh my God, look! I can't even say it without smiling like an idiot."

"My idiot, that is." L put his hands on my shoulders and glanced at Mr. Wammy. "Let's get going with the ceremony already, then. I can't wait for this girl to be my wife already."

I looked down and smiled so wide my face could've had deformed. I then looked at him as Mr. Wammy formally started the short ceremony. The little successors' gazes were all on us, and I heard them whispering stuffs that only made me grin.

To be honest, I didn't even prepare any vows. I just needed to say what I really felt like saying at the time. Even though not always, the truth will turn out to be more beautiful— no sugarcoating or anything, but just the plain truth.

"Promise is overrated. We can't always keep our promises, can we? The word try is more appropriate, I suppose. Perhaps I might not be able to keep my word for eternity, and it's not that I intend to break that, but I will try to keep it from breaking. I know the road ahead of us won't always be full of glee because that's just how life works, but I'm willing to go through it all as long as you're with me. I know we can overcome anything and still win in the end, and even after the end. I.. I sincerely love you, not only as your soon-to-be-wife, but as your closest friend and your family."

L's smile surprisingly grew wider. And of course, he wasn't gonna let himself get beaten by me. He also didn't prepare any vows as I could tell.

"You are right. We made it this far despite of how many times we had argued, even over the pettiest things. There will be more, I assure, but I can endure your whining and complaining. In fact, I'm already prone to it."

I laughed.

"I hope to make it with you until the end. Come what may, but I won't leave you. I've surprisingly become highly attached to you, that I want you to be with me until I had enough of your presence. I adore you a lot, [Y/N]."

He took my hand and slipped a ring on my finger. I did the same to him, still trembling, my vision already obscured. I must've had looked like a mess by the time because I couldn't stop crying.

He kissed the back of my hand, staring at me.

"Very well. You are now pronounced man and wife. You two may kiss."

L unexpectedly wrapped his arms around my waist, whispering, "If I do it wrong, tell me. I'll do it again until it feels right."

I merely nodded. I didn't even know what felt right or wrong— I never kissed anyone in the lips for my entire life. But I had always wondered how his lips would feel. His lips that probably tasted like strawberries and coffee—

The feeling I imagined became tangible as he pressed his lips against mine. I closed my eyes and wrapped my arm around his neck, not knowing whether I should kiss back or not. I was kinda shy— but I eventually kissed him back.

We pulled away, and after some time of silence and just staring at each other, I heard Matt screaming in glee.

"YESSS! The list of successors are going to increase!"

"What do you mean—"

"Hey!" I blushed and shook my head before looking at L. "Well.. we're not planning that yet, aren't we?"

"Now that you mention, we haven't really seriously talked about it yet, have we? Anytime is fine with me. And when you're ready, of course."

"I'm ready, but at the same time I'm not. Weird, right?" I chuckled. "But thinking about mini-Ls running around and.. Oh!" I squealed, bashfully looking away.

"My [Y/N] seems more shy today. Although, I do like the sound of that. But not just mini-mes, little versions of you too. Let's see.." He mumbled, thinking about something. "Does five children sound good to you?"

"Five..?!"

"They said the more the merrier."

"Sounds fine to me.. Good, actually.. Hehe.."

My face felt so hot. Because for the love of law, I couldn't stop thinking about the process of making children!

Snap out of it, [Y/N]!

Ugh, but I didn't.

"Another five successors? Wow. This is gonna be challenging." Mello grinned.

"Actually, I don't intend to make our children as my successors. I would like them to be raised normally. Wouldn't you agree with me, [Y/N]?"

"Oh, yes!"

"Good. But anyway, we'll talk more about it later. I do remember that we're still going to do some things, right Watari?"

"Yes. We should head out now." The old man replied. We exited the structure and onto the garden where we took a lot of photos. Most of them included the successors just trolling around and being mischievous to L and I. There were some romantic photos though, where you can find L doing all the things I never thought he'd do. It was heartwarming that my cheeks hurt so bad after all that smiling. It felt like they were almost being torned. But it was such an amazing day!

The photoshoot ended before five, and we decided that it was way too early for us to head back. And I guess you could call it L's day-off that day.

We couldn't really watch a proper sunset since the sky was shrouded with clouds. But it's alright, the weather was fine and so was the scenery. It even felt better because my loved ones were there.

L and I were sitting on a bench, his arm put over my shoulder. We were watching his successors have fun in the garden. I smiled at the thought of our future children doing the same thing.

Soon.

It began to grow dark. L stood up, motioning me to do the same thing. I did what I was told and the next thing I knew was that I was being carried in bridal style. That was... unexpected. I hooked my arms around his neck, and he leaned his face closer to mine until our lips were pressed.

I closed my eyes as I squirmed a little. As I kissed him back, he left me shocked when he started nibbling my lower lip, gentle at first, but it soon turned rough, his lips moving in a way that indicated he needed more, if possible.

I had seen couples making out both in real life and movies, so I only copied them and did what I thought was good, opening my mouth just a little, and L dominantly invaded it with his tongue. I shut my eyes tighter and gripped his collar as he moved his tongue against mine, back and forth and in circular motions.

He slowly put my legs down, making me stand up without even breaking the kiss. He wrapped his arms around my waist, his hands soon travelling up to caress my right cheek. My legs felt like jelly and I moaned in the kiss. After that, we pulled away to catch out breaths.

I looked at him, our bodies pressed against each other's. His lips looked swollen from the kiss— and there was this enigmatic, predator-like look in his eyes.

It was ghost-quiet. And.. I didn't moan that loud, did I?

And, where in the world did L learn how to kiss like that?

He was setting me in the mood. I didn't like it. Not when we were still at the garden.. I thought it had to wait until we were completely alone! Why did he do it there?!

"L, is this really you? I mean.. how did you learn to do that? I thought you were inexperienced when it comes to kissing. That was honestly, err, intense."

"To tell the truth I've been watching people do that. I suppose I learned by watching."

I flushed and cleared my throat. "Well.. You are the world's greatest detective after all. There's not a thing that you can't learn."

"You are right." He snickered. "And given my title and judging from your actions, you are horny by now, aren't you?"

"WHAT?! N-No way!"

"No need to deny it. After all, I am too."

Before I could even reply, he snatched my moment. "I could take you here right now. If you don't mind?"

"L— what are you talking about? I do mind! We're in public, for heaven's sake. You should at least control your hormones.. Hmp."

"Sorry. I just got in the mood."

"Yes, and you infected me with that mood. Now we're both in the mood. It's your fault."

I looked to the side and saw the successors looking at the both of us in utter silence. And they weren't blinking too.

"Oh! Hi— how long have you all been standing there...?"

"Long enough to see you two doing that adult stuff. Watari told us to call you since it's getting dark and we should head back.. But—"

"But you two were busy.. so we just waited."

I mentally facepalmed. I elbowed L in the stomach with a scowl.

"So, you saw the whole thing?"

"Yes. Even though I wasn't completely focusing on it, unlike these two." Near replied.

"Oh dear. This is your fault, L."

"You said that for the second time already. I know. I'm only sorry that you have to see a sight. Although, why did you continue watching it?"

"It's his fault!" Mello pointed to Matt, who looked as if he was betrayed.

"Psh! I was curious. I needed to get some answers. Why do couples moan when they kiss? It's a bit annoying, especially when they start to look like they're being possessed by the eye-rolling thing. Is it really that good when you taste another person's saliva? What benefit will it do you?"

"I suggest you not think too much about it." L replied.

"Totally right... Err, we should be going home now! Come on, let's go."

"Alright. I can't wait to get home anyways." He gave me a knowing look, licking his lips. I blushed and hit his arm. This pervert!

The three walked ahead of us in awkward silence. L and I followed, our arms hooked together, ready to go home as a newly wedded couple.

[dumbhaikyuusimp]

don’t. it’ll just hurt more.

eren yeager x fem!reader

words: 2326

synopsis: you go to find eren to get any details about what’s to come next. 

warnings: NSFW, smut, rough sex, anger sex, shouting, dom!eren, just the smallest amount of fluff, spain without the s, heartbreak.

Live bait. That’s what you were sent as, basically. Sure, they called it “recon”. Find the camp of the Yeagerists, find Eren, and report back to the Survey Corps about what they had planned beyond the Rumbling. When it would happen, how they would start, things like that. But as the only member of the 104th who wasn’t dead, pregnant, or traitorous, you were the pick to go. Armin and Mikasa were deemed “too close” to Eren to complete this mission, despite the four of you being as thick as thieves from before you could remember. Eren saw Mikasa as a sister. Armin, a best friend. But he always had a softer spot for you. A crush, maybe? 

That’s what Jean called it anyways. He was juvenile. 

Hanji sent you because of anyone, you could get him to talk. Or at least, if you were caught, you were less likely to be killed. Hence why you were sure that you were simply live bait. 

A lot of the searching was done by yourself on horseback, taking out the occasional straggler titan here and there whenever one approached, since no one really knew where the Yeagerists’ camp was. You searched in and around the forest, but something in you knew that Levi wouldn’t risk putting his own camp with Zeke anywhere near Eren’s. You soon approached an abandoned town, which looked like it had been abandoned for many years despite being within the walls and titan free. And there just so happened to be the faint glow of a fire and smoke within the town. It was a fair distance anyway from any Scout posts, and well off the beaten path, so they were well hidden. But you knew Eren enough to find him nonetheless. 

You slid off the back of your horse just outside of the town limits, feeding her an apple from your pack before tying her reins to a small tree next to a small pond so she could drink. 

“Good girl, Scooter,” you praised her gently, petting her mane gently before tugging your cloak around your shoulders a bit tighter. It was a breezy, cool night and the nerves didn’t help with the chills either. You were stepping into enemy territory, despite many of the Yeagerists having once been your teammates and friends. Including your childhood best friend. You then stepped into the town limits, the gravel under your feet crunching with every step as you tried to be as quiet as possible. You didn’t want to be seen, just wanting to get in and out with as much information as you could possibly get. 

However, you were only one person. And while that would normally cater to your stealthy needs, a random straggler would be easily caught. 

“Now, what do we have here?” a familiar voice mused from behind you as you got closer to what you assumed to be their main base in the town square. You groaned externally, and not quietly either. You were already caught so why bother?

“Hi, Floch,” you greeted him as you turned around, a sour smile on your face as you saw his cocky expression like he caught the crime of the entire century. What did piss you off is that he knew it was you, like they’d either been watching you or knew that the Scouts would send you. “Alright, I’ll cut right to the chase. Where’s Eren? I need to talk to him.”

“Yeah, no, I’m not gonna do that,” Floch replied as he approached you, backing you into a wall. After all, he was armed and you were not. Your ODM gear was back in a pack and sheath on your horse, not wanting to deter any talks or negotiations with the presence of weapons. However, you would have loved your ODM gear to leave right about now. 

“If you don’t get the fuck out of my face and take me to Eren right now, I’m gonna kick the shit out of you,” you warned the kid, eyes narrow as you stared daggers into him. Floch let out a chuckle before pulling out one of his swords, holding it to your neck. However, before he could say anything else, you heard someone approaching the two of you quickly. 

“Floch,” a stern yet calm voice spoke up from beside you, and Floch immediately backed up and put away his sword. “Fuck off, will you?”

Floch nodded without a single word and hurried back to the town square, leaving just you and Eren standing alone in the dark street. The breeze picked up a bit, the sound contrast of your Scouts cloak and his baggy cardigan filling your ears as they blew wildly against the wind. 

“Hey buddy,” you finally spoke, nodding at him. His hands were nonchalantly in his pockets, eyes devoid of any emotion as he just looked at you. “How have you been?”

“Cut the shit, Y/N,” he replied coldly, shaking his head almost in disbelief. “Why are you here? You’re not gonna get anything from me, so you might as well leave.”

“And why do you say that? What if I wanted to join your cause?” you shrugged. “I have intel your guys don’t know now that you’ve completely left the Scouts.”

He stared at you a little while longer before shaking his head again, approaching you and taking your hand a little bit roughly. “We’re not having a conversation like this out here,” he told you sternly, leading you into the building that you had been pressed against. 

“Why not?” you questioned him once more. Seeing him face to face after so long made a bunch of unknown emotions bubble to the surface. “You don’t want your men to hear me chew you out? Yell at you for abandoning us, your best fucking friends? Huh, is that it?”

Eren slammed the door behind you as you continued to rant. The building you had been led into had once been a home, and the decorative plates still perched on some shelves shook as he did so. “You don’t want me to yell at you for laughing when Sasha died? Or for breaking out before we even had a chance to talk? Talk to me, Eren! Why?”

“Because I can’t fucking lose you!” he finally turned to you, screaming in your face. You stood your ground, not flinching as you were more than used to his anger. “I want to get as far away from you as possible so it doesn’t fucking hurt when either of us die because it’s fucking inevitable!”

You were silent for a little bit as he huffed, his face red and angry as he looked at you. His eyes were furious, but you were unsure if the fury was directed at you, or himself. 

“You done?” you asked as if you were scolding a tantruming child, which is almost what he was right at that moment. “We can still help you, Eren. Trust me.”

He shook his head, the ponytail holder in his hair becoming loose. “You can’t fucking help me anymore. No one in the Scouts would take me back, not even Mikasa or Armin. And Mikasa is basically obsessed with me. I need to stick with this plan.”

“God, is everything about you? Always? You’re a fucking joke,” you snorted, moving around him to leave the house. You weren’t going to get anything from him at this point so you just wanted to cut your losses and go back home. He suddenly grabbed your wrist and pulled you back to face him, just so he could press you against the wall. He towered over you, placing one of his hands by your face and leaning close.

“You’re one to fucking talk. Eren, why did you leave me? Talk to me, Eren,” he mocked you.

“Fuck you,” you spat in his face, and he grabbed your jaw to make you look at him in the eyes before locking your lips together almost furiously. You weren’t sure how you got to this point, since you were at each other’s throats not even two seconds before that. 

But you weren’t complaining. 

You forced your lips against his with equal force, the kiss filled with lust, fury, and longing. You could tell he had been wanting to kiss you since you were kids, had wanted to hold your hand and call you his, but all of that was gone now. There was no hope for your future. Or anyone’s futures. Not with his plan. 

He unbuttoned your cloak, letting it drop to the floor as you shoved his cardigan onto the floor as well. His hands moved to around your waist, pulling you close as he tried to get your shirt unbuttoned. His hands were trembling, either from nerves or fury, so he resulted in ripping off your shirt instead. The buttons popped off, flying everywhere. You even heard one knock into a decorative plate, causing it to fall to the floor and smash at your feet. Eren’s hands then moved to your butt, picking you up with ease as you wrapped your legs around his waist. 

“What are we doing?” you whispered breathily as you finally broke the heated kiss, Eren now moving to the stairs and walking up them with you still in his arms. He was leaving kisses and marks down your neck now as you did so. 

“Something we’ve always wanted to do,” he growled back to you, kicking a bedroom door open and practically throwing you on the bed. It was well slept in, the sheets clean and the blankets ruffled, and it was now clear to you that this was the house Eren had been staying in. “Our last chance.”

“You’re a fucking prick,” you told him, but he quickly shut you up with another rough kiss. He began working on taking off your pants, throwing them across the room. There was no getting either of you ready, the both of you were just too needy for that. Eren then got up, staring directly at you as he lifted off his shirt and tossed it aside. 

“Keep talking like that and I’ll give you an actual reason to hate me. Shirt off, now,” he commanded, to which you easily complied. Eren pulled off his slacks, kicking them away before rejoining you on the bed. He, however, didn’t touch you for a solid ten seconds. He just...stared at you. Drinking in all he could of you in that moment, not wanting it to end before it even began. He then grabbed your thighs, pushing your legs back and moving the fabric of your soaked panties aside. 

You didn’t say a word as you watched him, but simply reached for his hand and held it as tightly as possible as he slid into you. The two of you didn’t waste any time. Eren gripped the back of your head with one hand, your hand still tightly held in his other, as he began to thrust desperately and roughly into you. You were sure that his crew outside could hear your moans, but you didn’t care. This is something that you had been wanting for a while, ever since you realized your feelings a couple of years prior, and this was truly the last time you would get the chance to do this with him. Be close, pressed together with your lips against his. 

“Y/N,” he grunted breathlessly, head buried in your neck as his thrusts became sloppy. “Y/N, I love y--” 

“Don’t,” you whined, holding his hand tighter and now placing your joined hands between your sweaty bodies. “Please, don’t make it hurt more th...that this is our first and last time together…”

Eren just nodded, kissing your forehead as he continued to fuck you with everything he had. You wanted this moment to last forever, but of course, nothing did. 

You watched Eren sleep soundly next to you as you sat up on the bed. You gently brushed his hair from his face, smiling gently at him. You wanted to stay with him. Every fibre of your being longed to just run away with him, leave all of this behind. But nothing could convince him to stop his plans. Not even your love. You leaned down, kissing his forehead before standing up. You got dressed once more, in all but your cloak. It was still downstairs along with his cardigan. You made your way there, picking up Eren’s ODM gear that he had and putting it on along the way so you could make a clean escape. You picked up your cloak, folding it nicely so the Scouts logo was front and centre as you placed it on the table. You then took his cardigan and shrugged it over your shoulders before leaving the house and Eren behind forever. As you made your way down the streets, zipping between the few buildings back to your horse, you couldn’t help but let out a harsh sob. 

You had failed your entire mission to begin with, and also got your heart broken in the meantime. When you got back to your horse, you dropped Eren’s ODM gear there at the tree before untying your horse and getting on. You then dug into the pockets of Eren’s cardigan to warm your hands. Your eyebrows knit together in curiosity as you pulled out a little piece of paper, and the curiosity persisted as you opened it to read what was there. You smiled a little bit upon seeing Eren’s handwriting, but also in amazement at what was there. A note to who you assumed was Zeke, to be passed through many hands to somehow get to him. A small snippet of the plan, enough to make Hanji ecstatic. With one final look at the town, you clicked your tongue as a signal for your horse. And just like that, you were gone.

[kaiparker-avengerssmut]

Their Doll 5

Throw a punch

B.Barnes x Reader, S.Rogers x Stark!Reader

series synopsis:  y/n Stark, all records of her non existent, and yet Hydra still find her. When she is kidnapped by a certain super-soldier and no one believes her, she finds herself searching for unexpected familiarity in her not-so-distant past.

Series Warnings: smut, violence, torture, swearing

Chapter Summary: y/n finally beats Bucky, he has a surprise for her when she returns from her first mission.

Warnings: smut, violence, mention of death/murder

A/n: The timeline in this has been altered, as there I things I wanted to include but I also wanted this fic to follow the storyline/timeline of Winter Soldier and Civil war.So for purposes of this fanfic, Peter Parker was discovered by Tony at a much younger age - when he was bitten - and has been an intern with him since, almost like a protégée.(For the purposes of this story Peter was bitten much younger too - more like when he was 9 or ten rather than 14/15)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

3 years. 3 godforsaken, bloody torturous years. That's how long I'd been in this hell hole. How long I'd been repeatedly beaten up by my only form of solace daily. How long I'd been whipped for simply not being good enough to beat a super soldier. How long I'd endured endless torture. And today, today is the day that it will all end.

If there was one thing the last three years taught me, is that I should duck and run rather than throw a punch. At least that's what I thought, and I'd never really been willing to risk a broken jaw to prove my theory. That is, until today.

Come on, y/n, you can do this. The words were repeated in my mind, my own mantra, in order to psych myself up for what I was about to do. There was a fire grip on my arm - arguably much tighter than necessary - as the guards dragged my down the hollow hall to my training session with the Winter Soldier. Pft, more like two hours of humiliation and a sore ass, I though, a little smirk spreading on my lips at my own joke.

"What're you laughing about? Something funny, Stark?" The guard who had the grip on my arm spat through gritted teeth and the smirk was instantly ripped from my lips, instead reverting back to the hard expression I had been trying to maintain while around anyone who worked for HYDRA.

So basically everyone.

We walked in silence the rest of the way, like normal, and the guard roughly shoved my into the room by a hand between my shoulder blades, like normal. But today wasn't like normal - no, today was the day I was the one to throw a punch.

They removed the silencer from my head and let me take a gulp of water before The General was barking the order for us to begin.

I walked into the centre of the room, shoulders back and stare cold. The soldier's gaze matched mine as his cerulean eyes bore into my own, his jaw clenched and hands already curling into fists as I stood before him. We maintained the stare for a moment - almost as if the other was waiting for the other to make the first move, an open opportunity to take the win.

And so I did.

Using the speed I'd worked up to over time, I farted towards the soldier, ducking on a seconds notice as his metal fist flew out. I landed a jab to his stomach, one hard enough to make him cough slightly with the knocked up air but far from hard enough to actually make him stumble. Distracted, he barely noticed me as I slipped under him - through his legs out by his back, which I was quick to jump on. I let my legs wrap around his muscular waist and my left arm wrap around his throat, making the soldier grit his teeth and attempt to pry my arm away from his neck as he began to choke.

When he attempted to fling my forward, I tangled my right fist into his brown locks, yanking painfully and making the soldier cry out as I lowered my lips to his ear. Another thing I'd learnt in the past three years is that the soldier was only affected by my powers under two conditions:

One, he was off-guard or vulnerable - hence the choking - and two, I was as close to him as I could possibly get.

I began to him a soft tune - one I had discovered was most effective in lowering my opponent's defence and lulling them into a false sense of security. I practically smirked irksomely when I sensed his eyes rolling back in defeat and his assault on my arm falter - body falling limp and relaxed under the quell of my voice.

When I was sure I'd lowered his defences enough, I slowly climbed down from his back and admired my handy-work.

The Winter Soldier, stood dopey and barely lucid before me, without so much as the energy to even move his arm, let alone land a heavy punch like he normally would. I took my chance, the man nothing more than a pile of flesh and bones as my leg swept through his, bringing the soldier down the the ground with a loud noise that resembled a mixture of a crash and a thud.

Of course, the impact made my tune immediately ware-off and the soldier was now fully lucid, but I could barely contain myself as I punched my fists into the air triumphantly and a grin curled across my lips.

A lonely applause filled the tall room, bringing me back to earth as I realised the situation. Footsteps angled towards me, slow and calculated as the claps slowed to a stop, The General standing before me with a tight-lipped smile.

"Well done, Miss Stark." He congratulated, looking around him and outstretching his arms. "It only took you, what? Three years?" He mocked, the taunting laughter of the guards making me feel nauseous. But I kept my composure, returning his mocking, tight-lipped smile that didn't even dare go near my eyes - which were alright with anger. "And now your training is complete. We shall have to teach you how to use a gun, I suppose?" He said lazily. I clenched my jaw.

"I knew how to use a gun perfectly fine, General." I gritted and his eyes brows shot up as he turned to face his comrades.

"Did you hear that, gentlemen? Looks like she doesn't need another three years to learn to fire a gun? My, my, haven't we lucked out with this one?" He mocked cruelly, coming back to face my burning eyes. He smirked, grabbing my chin between his thumb and his finger and angling my head up to meat his eyes. "Take her away, and get her ready for her first mission." He demanded, eyes churning with something that resembled pride, but darker. He kept his eyes on me as he spoke, before roughly jerking my chin away and letting the guards refasten the silencer over my mouth before they were grabbing and arm each and dragging me from the  training room.

The pulled me back down the hollow hall - passing my usual cell.

"W-where are we going?" I asked, swallowing heavily as they halted to a stop in front of an unfamiliar door and we shoving me inside. There was nothing gentle about the HYDRA guards, not that I ever expected there to be.

Once I was in one of them tugged the door shut, the other throwing a bundle of clothes at me, which I fought as the flew at my chest. I opened the ball of fabric out, finding a skin-tight leather tactile suit - red HYDRA symbol embellished on either arm and over my heart - along with underwear and some black tactile boots.

The men stared at me expectantly, eyeing me up and down by never making the move to leave.

"Aren't you supposed to give me privacy to change?" I asked sheepishly. As humiliating it had been to be whipped for three years the sight toppled in front of these men, the idea of willingly getting changed while they were stood staring at me like I was a piece of meat made bile ride in my throat.

"I highly suggest you get to it, unless you'd like us to help out, of course." One of the guards said with a sickening expression, making me grimace and begin to tug my shirt over my head.

"And how about you do it...slowly, if you don't mind, Miss Stark." The other remarked, arms crossed over his chest as he bit his lip and glued his eyes intensely on my body.

I gulped, continuing to pull the shirt over my head. Oh boy, this was gonna be a long day.

…

Blood and soot cakes my nails, the icky feeling of the grime a haunting reminder of what I had just done. I was in the shower room, scrubbing the mud and blood from my body as quickly and efficiently as I could. I was used to cleaning my own blood from my skin, but the feeling of someone else’s just made me want to-

I shivered, hands shaking the the brush tumbling out of my grasp and clattering to the floor. I braced a hand on the wall, letting my head hang forward as I took a deep breath, before looking back up and wincing as the cold water streamed over me.

No hot showers at HYDRA. I hadn’t felt the feeling of warm water rush over me since the last time I had a long bubble bath back home...

I shook the thought off, carding my fingers through my hair and attempting to pick the dirt and gravel out of it. My breath was ragged as I felt a hot steam of air on my neck, the faint tickle of fingers brushing over my hips and up my body until two large hands - one flesh, one metal - caged my head to the tiled wall.

“Soldier...” I moaned breathily, letting my eyes slip shut at the feeling of his hot breath hitting the back of my neck. It was an intoxicating feeling, really, especially after being void of affectionate human contact for so many years. The soldier buried his nose in my hair, inhaling deeply before bringing his lips to my eye.

“I can’t stay away from you.” He murmured, flesh hand coming down to grab a handful of my ass roughly before letting go. I almost whined at the loss of contact before I felt a harsh spank against my right ass cheek. What surprised me the most was the expected cry of pain did not escape me, but rather a moan of pleasure.

I could feel the soldier’s smirk against my skin at my reaction, my eyes still shut as his hand trailed over my hip once again, before slipping down my front and running a finger through my wet folds. I jerked away as his fingertip brushed over my sensitive nub, pressing my lips together to surpress a needy groan at his low chuckle, the sound going straight to my core and causing a pang of arousal to dance through me.

“Ever been touched here before?” He husked in my ear and o shook my head, almost in embarrassment. “No?” He checked and I shook my head again. “I’ll try to be gentle.” He muttered, but before I could protest his cold with gliding through my folds, now coated in my wetness and slowly sheathing itself inside of me.

A raspy moan tore from my throat, the soldier groaning behind me as his hand moved to my hip in a vice-like grip. His cock stretched me beyond my limits, and to say it was painful was an understatement. After a moment of keeping his cock fully seated within me, the soldier pulled his hips back slowly before slamming back roughly. A burn formed in my cunt and I let out another moan, dropping my head forward to to cool shower wall when he thrusted into me again.

After a few more thrusts the pain started to dissipate, instead turning into a delicious and pleasurable burn that sent tingles through me. When one of my hands reached backwards to grip onto the soldier’s thigh, he took it as a signal to speed up snapping his hips into mine until the only thing that could be heard were our skin slapping together, my breathy and broken moans and the soldier’s frankly feral and animalistic growls and groans in my ear.

A sharp gasp crawled up my throat when his hand transferred from my hip down to my core, two fingers flicking at my bungle of nerves. I could feel every vein, every ridge, every part of him as I clamped down around him, throwing my head back to rest of his shoulder as his pace somehow increased again - fingers drawing tight and fast circles on my clit in time with his thrusts.

My knees buckled as I came with a shout, falling back into him as my legs gave up on me. He let out a growl as his thrusts faltered, a few more strokes and he was shooting his load deep into me. I winced as he pulled out, falling forwards into the wall as I tried to catch my breath - breathing laboured.

As I turned to face the soldier, maybe pull him into a kiss, he disappeared. It was like he had gone into thin air. The only trace of him left was his cum dripping down my thighs, tickling my skin.

[talonwings]

to feed a kingdom- Empires SMP Writing

in which fWhip and his subjects make questionable choices for noble reasons.

(can you tell yet that i am a c!fWhip apologist lololololol--)

It would have been easy to miss the small silhouette of the man against the giant shadows looming over the landscape.

The inky sky seemed to cling low over the Grimlands, as it had ever since the Dragon fell; the stars shone more dimly, those that still shone at all. Clouds scudded frantically across the faint crescent of the moon, pushed along by a harrying wind. The crickets all had fallen silent--indeed, all the animals had gone, hidden away in burrows and holes to shelter themselves from the threat of the corruption. No sound disturbed the stillness of the night, but for the harsh gasps of the lone figure as he raised the scythe and swung it again, and again, and again.

fWhip’s fingers had long since blistered, burst, and blistered again. He had stopped even glancing down to check his hands--the sight of the blood seeping through the fabric of his gloves had averted his gaze some time ago. The pain was a constant companion, enough so that he had become used to it, could ignore it if he gritted his teeth and focused on the rhythmic rise and fall of the tool in his grasp.

He was inelegant with the scythe. It would have been obvious to anyone observing, if there had been anyone around to observe at this ungodly hour; as it was, his lack of skill was evident enough in the ache it left behind in his forearms and shoulders, the torque that yanked at his spine every time he twisted to put his weight behind the swings. He had never been a large man, but he felt his smallness down to his bones here beneath the tower of corruption that still rose into the air above him.

Give up, the rot-red tendril seemed to hiss at him. Its veiny surface pulsated eerily, hinting at something living just beneath the fleshy exterior.

“I’ll die first,” fWhip rasped at it. “Watch me.”

He swung the scythe again. The blade was weathered steel, pocked and beaten from many years of use, but still dangerously sharp. It bit deep into the corrupted tendril, and fWhip was gratified when he swore he could hear a faint scream.

Plash was worried about the Count.

It wasn’t that her lord was acting strange, exactly. Strange, to Plash, was a relative term--she had been called ‘strange’ for most of her childhood due to her fondness for laboratory tools over the company of other children. It was a relief to finally be accepted into the service of the Grimlands’ ruler, who, by Plash’s measure, was a kindred spirit in strangeness. Many people raised their eyebrows at the Count’s eccentricities, but accepted them simply because he was the Count, and who were they to question the man who kept food on their tables and money in their coffers?

No, Plash was concerned because fWhip was acting strange, even for him. He was energetic and filled to the brim with ideas, as a rule--it was what made the Grimlands, under his rule, surge to the forefront of scientific research and discovery. Plash would have never described him as kind, necessarily, or even pleasant, but he was confident and sure and bold.

Until the Dragon fell, and everything changed.

She did not know how to make the dullness go out of his eyes, or the slant from his shoulders, or the heavy, bowing weight from his head, and it frightened her--an uncomfortable experience in itself, for someone as rarely frightened as Plash. In the hours immediately after the Dragon’s end, she had watched her beloved ruler become a person she did not recognize; and that, even before the corruption had arrived.

Plash scowled out the window of the manor at the scarlet tendril hanging ominously in the sky beyond the pane. The damn things had erupted from the ground barely a week after the Dragon’s death, while the Grimlands were still reeling from the arrival of what seemed like half of Mythland’s population. They had barely had enough time to count them all, much less figure out how they were going to feed them. Tents lined every road in Eastvale, and most of the roads immediately outside the town’s wall.

Normally, the Count would guide us, Plash thought glumly. But now…

She didn’t allow herself to finish the thought, close enough to treason as it was. Instead, she made herself continue her trek through the long, high-ceilinged halls toward the Count’s personal study, acutely feeling the weight of the smooth little scroll clutched in her hand, burning a hole through her glove.

She arrived at the tall, paneled oak door, staring for a long moment at the polished bronze knocker before summoning her strength and rapping it twice.

“Enter,” the weary voice called from within.

Plash did so, but stopped just inside the door, barely remembering to close it behind her as she gaped at her leader and mentor. He looked terrible. His eyes were ringed by bruise-purple circles, his cheeks hollow with exhaustion; more bruises were visible on the exposed skin of his wrists where his jacket sleeves rode up, and Plash swore she could see blood staining his gloves.

“Are you just going to stare?” the Count asked. The question was blunt, but his voice was weak and lacked its usual intensity.

“I…” Plash couldn’t find any words, so instead she held up the scroll. “This just arrived.”

“And they sent you instead of a raven?” fWhip gave a dry laugh. “I wasn’t aware that you were doing the job of birds now, Plash Ajax.”

Most people would have been embarrassed by the quip, but Plash shrugged. “A raven brought it, but the raven-mistress said it was too important not to be hand-delivered.”

“Mm.” fWhip eyed her for a moment before he, too, shrugged. “Bring it here.”

She obeyed, crossing the room and depositing the scroll on his desk. Up close he looked even worse than at first glance; his face and every centimeter of exposed flesh were riddled with tiny scratches, like he had been on the losing end of an encounter with a thorn bush. His clothes were wrinkled and disheveled, his gingery hair utterly unkempt. Plash said nothing, only waiting in silence for him to inspect the scroll.

He took it in his hands and unrolled it, eyes scanning it for a second before he let it fall from his grip. It hit the desk with a clack, but Plash barely noticed, fixated as she was on the single tear that trailed down the Count’s cheek before being lost in the tangle of his beard.

“Um…” She chewed her lip for a moment, internally caught between wanting to comfort him and wanting to turn tail and run. She settled for asking, somewhat awkwardly, “Shall I, um...shall I leave?”

“Do what you like,” he replied in a tone thick with exhaustion. One gloved hand came up for a noncommittal wave, the fingers indeed stained scarlet with blood.

Plash stood frozen for what felt like an eternity, although it was probably no more than a minute, trying to decide what to do. Finally, she decided to be as blunt as the man she looked up to. “You look awful. Did someone break in here for a fight last night?”

She thought she had made an awful mistake when fWhip’s eyes locked onto her, his mouth agape; relief washed over her when he started to laugh, the sound hoarse and beaten, but familiar.

“So you can tell,” he said when he finally stopped laughing. “Well, I suppose I did nothing to try to clean up.”

“Wait, so there was a fight?” Plash asked in confusion.

“Of a kind,” the Count replied wryly.

“...I’m confused,” the young scientist admitted.

“Ah, I know how you hate that.” fWhip’s mouth quirked in a half-smile. “All of you young researchers do, though I try my best to beat it out of you.” He stood, shaking his head and then wincing visibly at the movement. “Ack. That’s unpleasant.”

“Can I, er, help in any way?” Plash asked.

“Follow me,” the Count said, beckoning with a gesture toward the door. “I will answer your question, though you must promise to share this with no one.”

Plash followed silently, thoughts spinning through her head as they descended the several floors of the manor and exited into the gardens beyond. From down here, she had a full view of the corruption towering over the skyline of Eastvale, tendrils encircling the town as if to latch on and pull it into the earth, although for now, they remained still. It was toward one of the massive growths that fWhip led her, and as they neared, Plash could see a curious wound in the side of the tentacle. It leaked and bled crimson ooze from the gash, and its flesh seemed to have withered around the site, blackened and decaying.

“What caused this?” Plash wondered aloud. “More corruption? Some new blight?”

“I did,” the Count answered.

“You--?” Plash stared at him, aghast, her eyes dropping slowly to the scarlet-stained scythe that lay abandoned on the ground below the tendril. She hadn’t noticed it until he nudged it with his boot, but now she saw the corrupted ichor dripping from the blade, the red vines hacked to pieces and lying dead beside the tool.

“Did you know I wanted to be a farmer once?”

She was caught entirely off-guard by the question, still enthralled as she was by the sight of the scythe, so it took her a moment to fully process it. “Wh--wait, a farmer? As in…?” She mimed what she thought scything wheat might look like.

fWhip nodded tiredly. “When I was very young, I once had to accompany my parents, the old Count and Countess, on a trip to a Wither Rose Alliance summit in Mythland. They were, of course, ensconced in meetings all day, so I wandered the kingdom with my…” Here he trailed off, a flash of some unreadable feeling crossing his face for a moment before he went on. “With an old friend. We got into plenty of mischief, and one of the pranks we decided on was to unlatch the gate to a field full of cows. Luckily, the farmer caught us before we were trampled to death by the beasts, and although we were royal, he decided to teach us a lesson, and made us help him sow carrot seeds for two hours.”

Plash made a face. “That sounds horrid.”

The Count chuckled softly. “My friend thought so, but for me, there was something very rewarding in digging up the earth, placing the seeds, covering them, and knowing that they would someday become food for the citizens of Mythland.”

“...Sort of like finishing a machine that you know will be used to make life easier for people,” Plash said after a moment’s reflection. She knew the feeling--hands oil-stained, face soot-smeared, hair wild, sleep-deprived and exhausted, but overwhelmed with warmth when she gazed at the thing she had created. There was nothing like it.

fWhip nodded. “Yes. And so I told my parents when I was returned to them later that I wanted to become a farmer and grow carrots for all the people of the Grimlands. They laughed, of course, and said that a Count’s son could do more than become a simple farmer, and as it turned out, they were right. But for a long time, I had a secret dream to fill the whole world with fields, to build one every day, as far as the eye could see.”

Plash gazed at him silently for a long time. Finally, she said, “So this is your chance to use the scythe to help the Grimlands?”

His face became hard, almost unrecognizably so. “If I have to tear down every one of these damn things, I will.”

There was silence between them again, the awful, still silence that had hung over the Grimlands in all the hours that had passed since the Ender Dragon’s demise. Plash watched as the Count breathed raggedly, his fists clenched and trembling, the entire weight of their kingdom resting on his shoulders.

“I’ll help,” she said.

He blinked--it was clearly not the response he had been expecting. “What?”

“I said, I’ll help,” Plash repeated. Her resolve was growing now, ideas taking root--like seeds, like kernels that, properly watered, would grow into something that could help them all. “I’m terrible with a scythe, but I know machines and chemicals. If you give me a sample, I can turn it into something that will help us feed the Mythlanders.”

The Count’s eyebrows rose almost to his hairline. “Feed--with the corruption?”

Plash scowled at him. “Did you recruit me from university because I had boring ideas?”

He looked astonished for a moment, but only for a moment, and then his mouth formed the devious smile that she hadn’t seen in nearly eight days.

“No,” he agreed. “I did not. Very well, Plash Ajax. You will turn Xornoth’s corruption into food for the people of Mythland. But you know, I have high expectations now that you’ve even suggested such a thing.”

Plash grinned right back, cracking her knuckles, her mind already working. “I know. So do I.”

[serendipityjxmn]

Mr. President

Chapter 2

TW: Mentions of bruises, scars etc

Words Count: 1.3k

Link to Masterlist

Link to Chapter 3

The sun feels very blinding on your face. Trying to move your muscle one by one, pain suddenly rips through your body making you whimper.

“Careful.” A voice in the room says which you somehow immediately know belongs to Mr. Park.

Your eyes fling open to search for him and you find him in no time as he is seated on the bedside, watching you carefully. It’s almost unfair how illegally good looking he is.

You try to sit up but ends up groaning in pain. Your whole body hurt, every muscle is aching and screaming in pain.

“Your body’s still recovering. You need to take it slow.” He says impassively, not a hint of warmth.

“Where.. am I..?” Your voice hoarse.

“My house.” He simply says.

His house??? How- why-

Wincing and grunting, you eventually manage to sit up. You finally realize that you’re in a large and spacious bedroom with sleek beige furnitures and interiors decorating it.

You then allow yourself to stare at your saviour. Now that it’s morning, you can clearly see him and all his features. His gaze bores into you but you can’t deny how beautiful they are, his nose although not high but is sharp enough, his cheeks high and his lips.. he has a pair of very pretty pink plump lips, you note. Almost reluctantly, you drop your gaze to avoid being called lunatic or pervert for staring unashamedly.

Your gaze flickers back up when he stands, one hand in his pocket.

“I placed the painkillers there.” He juts his chin towards the bedside table and only now you notice the medicine and a glass of empty water there. “Feel free to leave once you’re capable enough to do so.” He frowns slightly, then turns.

You reach forward almost immediately, wincing at the throbbing pain on your ribs especially due to sudden movement. Without thinking, you reach for his free hand, gripping it desperately.

“Please-“ you croak and he turns, still frowning at your daringness to touch him. “Please- take me in. I’ll- I’ll.. do anything, I’ll work for you- anything. Just.. just please don’t-“ You trail off, because you don’t exactly know what you wish for.

For several moments, he just regards you. And for the briefest second, you think he would smile, takes your hand and mutters softly that he’s going to help you.

But nothing of the sort happens.

He just continues to stare at you impassively, clearly not impressed. The way he stares at you makes you feel small so you withdraw your hand, flustered and embarrassed for coming to this point in your life.

He sighs then. “Just rest.” Is all he says before he turns and leaves you alone, feeling even more helpless than ever.

Your shoulders slump back down and suddenly the realization that you really are going to be in the streets with no one to help brings fresh tears to your eyes. So you cry. For hours until you’re exhausted enough to fall asleep again.

The dark must’ve just set when you find yourself awake again, body aching even more now though there’s a lesser pain in your chest since you’ve let it all out from all the crying session.

You struggle to sit up when you feel your throat burning. You’re very thirsty. Letting out small squeaks with each muscle and limb you’re moving, you manage to sit yourself on the edge of the bed.

There’s a faint knock on the door that you think if you’re asleep you wouldn’t have heard them at all. Before you could react, the door opens and an elderly woman with her hair tied up in a bun appears. She smiles kindly as she calls your name.

“Miss..?” She hovers near the doorframe. “I brought you some fresh clothes, you can change into them. The bathroom is just beside you and if you’re done you can come outside and I’ll show you to Mr. Park’s study. He wants to see you.”

Your stomach lurches in response. He couldn’t possibly want to sue me.. or worse, kill me, right? Flashes of images of him beating your brother makes you shudder. One thing you know for sure is that he’s not someone to be messed with.

You stand though staggering slightly as your legs wobble. The elderly woman who introduces herself as Mrs. Lee immediately steps in and asks with a concern look whether you need help. You shake your head, telling you just need to take it slow and Mrs. Lee leaves you at your own devices after that.

Though not without numerous wincing and grunting, you somehow manage to shower as well, or more like wiping your body here and there. You briefly think that if you’re well enough, you’d be basking in the warm water the hot tub offers and appreciates the lavish interior of the bathroom.

You flinch when you see your own reflection in the mirror. You couldn’t have been in a worse state than this throughout your whole life. Bruises littering your body everywhere, it’s all marks of blue and purple, wounds and scratches from being thrown to the ground and your lips are slightly torn at the edge. There is also a cut above your right brow. You couldn’t really recognise yourself.

Sure, you had plenty experiences of being beaten by your abusive brother but last night, your brother seemed determine to beat you half dead. You sigh, tears almost threatening but you quickly brush it off. You have to be strong.

Outside the bathroom, there’s a white medium dress laid on the bed together with matching undergarments. You pick the dress up, eyes litting up at the beauty of it. You’ve never worn a dress before, simply because you can’t afford to be dressing up when you’re burdened with financial debts your whole life.

Still, you’re grateful since wearing a dress is still an easier task than having to fit through a jeans or leggings.

There’s a knock on the door again and Mrs. Lee appears again. Wow, she really has a knack of figuring your timing. She approaches you as you stand awkwardly on the dressing table.

“Would you sit down, Miss? Let me brush your hair.”

“Y- you don’t have to.” She doesn’t listen though, instead placing firm hands on your shoulder and putting slight pressure to make you sit in front of the dressing table. It somehow feels weird to be staring at your own reflection.

Mrs. Lee brushes your hair tenderly like a mother would her daughter. She then braids your hair slightly and tie it up in a bun, letting a few strands fall freely on each side of your head.

You feel weird. For once.. you think you look decent. Though bruises are still apparent on most of the surface of your skin and no makeup to cover your face, you don’t look so tired like always.

“Miss..?” Mrs. Lee interrupts your reverie as she taps your shoulder lightly. “I’ll show you to Mr. Park’s study. He’s waiting for you.”

And there goes your stomach churning again at the mention of Mr. Park. You’ve no idea what to expect and that makes your stomach churns further, anxiety almost swallowing you whole.

Mrs. Lee leads you out of the bedroom into the hall filled with arts and paintings on the wall and only coming to a stop when you almost reach the end of the hallway in front of a double mahogany door. She knocks on them and you don’t miss the escalating heart beat of yours as your anxiety heightens as she announces your arrival to whoever’s waiting on the other side of the door.

She doesn’t wait for an answer but opens the door and urges you to enter. Filled with trepidation as if you’re entering a lion’s den, you step inside.

If you thought the bedroom you were in just now was huge, it doesn’t compare to this study room. It’s vast, with bookshelves surrounding it and rows and rows of books, old or new filling it. Across the room, there’s a table by the window and you finally see the man sitting behind it. He doesn’t look up when you enter so you stand there awkwardly, fidgeting with the hem of your dress.

There’s also another man standing across the table, facing Mr. Park.

He turns at the sound of you entering and your jaw almost drop at the visual of this man. He’s tall, skin slightly tanned but above all, the features of his face are almost out of this world. Eyes sculpted to perfection, tall nose and sharp jaw, he stares at you making you stop short in your tracks. The corner of his lips tugs very lightly as he addresses your presence.

“Ah, Miss Y/N.” His voice is very, very low without him having to make the effort. “Please, come here and have a seat.”

He gestures towards your right and you notice a seating area with plush white sofa and modern table. You don’t move until the guy who was speaking just now moves towards the sofa followed by Mr. Park. You chance a glance at Mr. Park as he takes confident strikes across the room and you marvel at the way even his walking exudes charisma. He takes his seat gracefully, sitting cross legged and you miss the way he eyes you from top to bottom as you walk over while the tanner guy remains standing beside him and only now you notice he’s holding several papers in his hands.

He looks at you and gestures you to take a seat once more which you do. You almost buckle in nervousness as the two’s gaze land on you.

“So, Miss Y/N,” the guy standing starts. “My name is Kim Taehyung, nice to meet you.”

If your senses aren’t tingling all the time and you aren’t fidgeting so much in anxiety, you’d probably have half the brain to answer to his sentence but right now you’re trying very hard to do as much as breathing that you end up mumbling incoherent reply, much to the guy named Taehyung’s amusement though Mr. Park’s expression remains impassive.

“I understand that your family had been a tenant of one of Park Corporations housing area for more than twenty years now. You also have a history of late payment since five years ago and currently has a backlog of payment for one year, amounting 4 million KRW. Is that correct?”

You feel beads of sweat starting to appear on your forehead but you still nod nevertheless.

“You failed to pay for the past year which resulted to the house being seized and you’d be homeless but.. here you are..”

You try to hide the grimace as Taehyung addresses the obvious situation.

“And you still owe Mr. Park here 4 million KRW and may I ask if you have any means to settle them within this month?”

You swallow. You want to ask for another chance, to give more time but you know even if they do give you a chance, there’s no way you can rake millions just like that. Unless you sell yourself, perhaps. And that still might not make up the amount of money. So naturally, you just shake your head slightly.

“So, Miss Y/N, since you’re owing such huge amount to Mr. Park and you have no means to pay.. that means you’re technically..” Taehyung continues but was cut off by Mr. Park.

“Mine.” He says and the word echoes in your mind a million time. You’re.. what? You look up at him and see the corner of his mouth slightly quirks up like he’s smirking. Your gaze flickers to Taehyung too and he’s doing the same as well making a shiver run down your spine. Why do you feel like you’re being sold to the devil..

“So I have a proposition for you.” This time it’s Mr. Park speaking. “A marriage contract.”

A WHAT?

Link to Chapter 3

Posted on 210325 9:00PM

[shoichee]

Hello❤️❤️❤️ congrats with 100 followers🥳🥳🥳 hope the audience will expand😍 and can I repeat myself again? I love your works😍

So, can I request 5 with Himuro?

hihihihihi!! ty sm for your support squeeeeee, sure you can repeat again, think of it as a thank you for being there since the beginning <333 i actually have so much requests now it’s kind of crazy!

Himuro x Reader

5. “Well. Yell, scream, say something. Anything”

Word Count: 2255

prompt list here

TW: attempted assault and stalking, nothing graphic, but these are the main subjects for this scenario, so PLEASE PLEASE take care of yourself first if these topics trigger you and avoid them!

»»—————　☼　—————««

Himuro felt helpless.

The Winter Cup that year when Seirin rightfully won was over months ago, but even still, there is still a part of him that gnaws at him from the inside of his consciousness. Ever since he failed to stop Haizaki from making unwanted advances on his mentor.

No matter how much Alex assured him that it wasn’t a big deal, no matter how easily she shrugged the incident off, there is still a festering guilt that eats him away at how useless he was in protecting the people he cared about. He couldn’t even protect Kagami as an “elder brother,” and he couldn’t even protect Alex as a “male” against another male. Still, no matter how much he chastises himself for having such immature thoughts, they’ve continued to overstay their welcome. What kind of traits does an “elder brother” or a capable “male” even entail?

Someone who wouldn’t be beaten and swatted like a fly…

Someone who wouldn’t just sit idly by when someone is being wronged…

Someone who wouldn’t hesitate to fight back to protect someone, even despite the consequences…

But if that’s the case… that’s just the definition of a person with human decency, isn’t it? Yes, perhaps that is why he still mulls over the encounter to this day. First he split off his brotherhood with Kagami over a one-track goal of an equal rivalry, and then he talked down to his mentor before his Winter Cup game that evening… In the end, he was absolutely pathetic, losing to Kagami’s inborn talent and getting beat down while watching his teacher getting harassed and choked. He easily accepted the fact that Kagami surpassed him with his basketball… The latter? Not so much.

He hasn’t really talked about his inner turmoil with anyone. Atsushi is someone who would not care too much about the complex emotions that he’s currently harboring, much less help deal with them. His other teammates are graduating and too occupied with final exams. He could speak with Alex, but by now, she’s moved back to America, and a part of him doesn’t want to call her out of his self-consciousness and humiliation. You?… He could confide his troubles with you… but a part of him whispers that you’d think less of him if you knew how incapable he really was.

After all, if he couldn’t even protect you as your boyfriend… no, he’d rather not go too far into that thought.

He smiles at the thought of you openly complimenting everything of him every time he subconsciously downplays himself, whether it was his basketball skills or his looks or even his habits. He always thought about how cute you were when you always made exaggerated hand movements to express your sincerity when you shower him with compliments, even if he always told you that you never had to go that far in saying such things. (You always insisted that they’re true and he was the best boyfriend anyone could ask for anyways.)

To someone like Himuro who had always hid their inferiority complex and other entangling insecurities behind a mask of a genial smile, your words always reassured him that he wasn’t treating you horribly or neglecting you or just being downright selfish. Just like what happened with Kagami. Just like what happened with Alex. He just hopes he doesn’t fuck this up somehow with you too.

He had always apologized for how he couldn’t spend as much time with you as he wanted to; basketball practice doesn’t spare anyone, after all. Still, you would smack his arm and push him to the gym as you scolded him to focus on what he loved to do best. Ah, he really didn’t deserve you… how you were so understanding he would never know.

But dusk fell at another early-February weekday; it was still quite chilly, cold enough to see his own puffs of warm exhales. His hands are cold, but the rest of his body burns from running laps and repeating shooting drills moments earlier. His ears grow hotter still when he remembers that you two had planned a simple outing near the coffee shop around the corner.

“Atsushi!” Himuro turns back to call out to the center player. “I need to be going now.”

“Hmph,” Murasakibara huffs in reply. “I was gonna ask you to take me to that new booth to try out new samples.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he laughs, noting the faint mist escaping his lips. “I’ll take you there next time, Atsushi. I have a date planned with (y/n)-san right now.”

“Tch, I’m leaving before you get too mushy on me. Buh-bye~” the giant drawls, casually strolling down the opposite path. Himuro manages to hold back a mild snort before he makes his way to head to the shop you two agreed to meet up at. Propping up his phone to look for your name to send a text, his eyes widen as he registers your name popping up on his screen as an incoming call. What a coincidence. You must’ve been anticipating this too. He smiles as he envisioned your anticipation at the table before he picks up on your call.

“Tatsuya?…” your voice rang.

“(y/n)-san,” he teased. “I didn’t think of you as an impatient person. Can’t wait to see me?”

“Yeah,” you said, but something about your voice was overly cheerful.

“Don’t worry,” Himuro hummed. “I’ll be there really soon. Give me 5 minutes.” He assumed it was just your excitement taking over that made you sound different than usual. He was about to hang up before you spoke again.

“A-Anywho!” you say. “How was practice, Tatsuya?”

“Hmm, the same it has always been,” he replies. “Just drills and laps before running a few practice games. Why do you ask?”

“No reason! C-Can’t I check up on you sometimes?”

“Of course you can, (y/n)-san,” he reassures you. There was a silence from your end, but he can hear how your breaths quickened over the line. He then registered some footsteps and maneuvers on the concrete and furrowed his brows in mild confusion. “… Hey, is there something wrong?”

“A-Ah yes! I’m at the laundromat right a-around the corner!” Your voice slightly peaks at the end. “Y-Yeah, yeah! I can’t wait to… s-see you soon! Uh, huh, m-mhm! You’re near right now, right? Yeah! You-you’re almost there!…” By now, your voice has taken on an almost hysterical tone.

“(y/n)?… (y/n)!” he half-shouts into his phone. “(y/n)! Can you still hear me! Where are you?!… Laundromat, right?” He breaks into a brisk run, ignoring the disapproving stares of other pedestrians on the sidewalk.

“I-I-I’m near the alley adjacent to the laundromat!… Yeah! C-Can’t wait to see you! O-Oh, don’t forget… um, to bring your wallet. S-Silly, you always forget to bring money, so… s-so…” You completely break your facade with a faint voice crack and a sniffle at the end. “Please… please hurry…”

Himuro pushes himself to a full sprint, completely disregarding etiquette as he pushes a few people to the side. His cold hands struggle to cease from shaking as he clutches his phone harder, as if he was holding onto you for dear life. Something terrible might happen to you, and if something happened to you on his watch…

Please, please, please, fucking god, please—please make it on time—

He grits his teeth and screams at his legs to move faster when he hears a stifled sob and a cry from your end.

“A-ah please…” you whisper. “They’re coming—they’re, Himuro, I don’t know where to ru—” All he heard after was a terrified scream before the line cut off.

Fuck, hurry up, hurry the fuck up—

———

Your phone was completely shattered on the floor, and you swore you had a few broken shards embedded in your skin somewhere from the harsh impact. That didn’t matter though. Not when there were two men grabbing you and trying to muffle your cries for help.

You try to use your elbow to hit their weakest parts, their joints, to loosen their grip. It worked, but as soon as you took a few steps, the other just tackled you to the floor to completely immobilize you.

You screamed, you kicked, you slapped, you elbowed, you punched, you flailed, but nothing seemed effective against two bodies, twice the size and twice the strength of your own.

You pitifully wail as a last desperate attempt, but in the quiet corner of the neighborhood, nobody seems to heed your cries for help. The sun had completely set by now, the year still experiencing the darkness of a winter night; by now, most are already at home relaxing. Their weight on your body was suffocating and you don’t know whether the pain was from the rough concrete, the shards, their weight, or all of the above.

You register them heaving you up with a firm hold on you still and shoving you to walk to the nearest vehicle they owned, and your legs are absolutely trembling from the shallow wounds you accumulated from the roughing and from the fear of the uncertainty of what would happen to you.

———

When Himuro lays eyes on your roughed-up state and the two men restraining you, all his fury and guilt and fear comes rushing back from his encounter with Haizaki.

He is not a rational man right now. He is not thinking of being the “bigger person.” He is not thinking about being a model athlete nor proper sportsmanship nor disqualification. There are no such thoughts of consequences, not when your life is being jeopardized.

He does not fucking care that he looks like the aggressor when he throws a left hook at the first man. He does not fucking care that the second man looks like his shoulder got dislocated. For once, he does not fucking care how his violent actions might cost him his prospective basketball career.

When he pulls your trembling body into his arms and feels how warm you are against his body in the night chills of an early-February weekday, he breathes out a long cloud of air, slowly calming himself as he hugs you more firmly against his side and pulls up to dial the local police.

He feels a slight sense of relief when he can feel you instinctively snuggling into his side for solace.

———

The local officers immediately got the gist once they saw the scene of two sprawled men, a terrified you, and a protective Himuro. After checking the nearby CTE cameras, their suspicions were confirmed. They still ask Himuro a few basic questions before they haul them off to the station; Himuro mostly answers for you.

Once the quiet fills the neighborhood again, you release a shuddering breath; Himuro knows because he can see your own mist from the corner of his eye. Still, you haven’t spoken a word since then.

“(y/n)…” he murmurs, bending down to your level to survey the scratches and bruises on your body before he hesitantly looks at your eyes. “Well… yell, scream, say something—anything… please.”

“… Can you… hug me again?”

“… Of course.”

And you both embrace tightly, Himuro tucking your head into his chest as you nuzzle as much as you could into his body.

“… Did they do anything to you?”

“They roughed me up and all, but… thank god you came…”

“They still put their hands on you—I couldn’t protect you—”

“… Why do you look so much more distraught than me, Tatsuya?”

“Because, I—I can’t do anything for the people I love and care about, and I… never mind, do you… want me to walk you home?”

“Wait, Tatsuya…” you whispered. “Let’s talk for a bit, please talk to me.”

“Our date—”

“Which we can always reschedule,” you said, bringing Himuro’s head down to nuzzle against your shoulders.

“If I was there faster—if I was there, this wouldn’t have…”

“Because you were there,” you corrected him. “I am able to experience another day, another tomorrow… especially by your side, where I’m happiest.”

“You must’ve been so scared—damn it, I—”

“Yeah… I’m still shaken up from that, to be honest,” you sighed. “I’m… just a bit paranoid about being alone in the dark now, but you saved me from the worst case scenario—Tatsuya, what’s wrong?! Are you crying—?”

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, quickly separating from you to rub his stray tears away before attempting to smile. “I should be the one comforting you, not the other way around. Please don’t mind me.”

“Oh silly,” you mused. “I’m dating you too. I want to be able to protect and care for you in my own way, too.”

“It’s getting dark, though. We should really start walking.”

“And we can talk while we do. I demand you to snuggle while we walk, too.”

“Haha… how could I ever say no to you, (y/n)?” He feels that gnawing sense of guilt and patheticness rearing up its head again, but when he looks at your earnest eyes even despite what transpired a few moments ago, the fact that you were safe and in his arms was more than enough to quell those feelings away.

In the lulls of a chilly early-February night, Himuro wraps a comforting arm over your figure as he draws a shuddering breath before he hesitantly begins. You look up at his face expectantly to show that you were giving him undivided attention as encouragement.

“It was during the Winter Cup a few months ago…”

———

End Note: being stalked by a dude in a CAR was NOT FUN. IT WAS NOT A FUN TIME !! 😭 unlike this y/n here, I had no one to “call” and pretend that I was meeting up with them because my walk route home comprised of only houses and streets, so that was something else OOF I was thinking of the worst case scenarios at the time;;;

[kashi-prompts]

Flowers For A Shinobi

Chapter 10: A Feeling

Word Count: 2,765

Pairing: Kakashi x OFC

Previous Chapter ❀  Archive of Our Own Link  ❀  Wattpad Link

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

Ka-ka-shi. 

The image of his first teammate's soft brown eyes gaping back at him sauntered into his dream as though it had just happened yesterday. Blood dripped from her lips. 

Kak-ashi. 

Obito's crushed face stared back at him distantly. A cough of blood. Dozens and dozens of other shinobi who died before him whirled in his mind. The resolve he made never to let his comrades die only came to be after seeing so many of them perish right in front him. All the instances where he was moments- no, seconds away from saving someone and their lives had quite literally slipped from his hands. 

Ayame's face swirled in his mind. The streaks of orange in her braid and her light green eyes that always catch in the sun. The tension from Rin and Obito's faces dissolved. She reached for his face, touching with hesitancy and admiration as a soft smile drew across her lips. Her fingers felt like small shocks of electricity against his cheek.  

Something grabbed her by her abdomen, drawing her back into an abyss. The shared intimacy quickly swiveling to panic as he jolted forward, calling her name only for it somehow to fall on deaf ears. He reached for her, watching something pull her into the ground, her delicate hand reaching up towards him. 

Kakas-hi!

Kakashi inhaled sharply, both eyes opening immediately to scan his surroundings. A bead of sweat dripped from his hairline and over his silver brow as his eyes rested on Ayame. His ninken stared up at him, curiously concerned for their master's abrupt awakening. Behind his tight ribcage, his lungs felt like a sponge trying desperately to grasp hold of a puddle of water to soak itself. A weak hand lifted to his collarbone, rubbing it uncomfortably to calm his breathing. He noticed his jonin jacket was unzipped. 

He sighed restlessly, closing his left eye slowly as his head fell back against the stone wall. He took in a deep breath, the scent of morning dew and garbage mixing offensively in his sensitive nose. Shifting his head, he looked down at Ayame, her shoulders moving just out of sync with the rhythm of his own breathing. 

His mouth felt dry as his mind wandered back to his dream. What did it mean? Why was he dreaming of her? It was typical for the restlessness of his career to catch up with him in his dreams. But the vision of her affectionate gaze coupled with the imaginary touch of her fingertips to his skin caused an unfamiliar twang in his lower stomach. He swallowed hard, turning his head back to close his eyes. 

A wet nose nudged at his fingers. Shiba's standard rigid glare was soft with regard for his master. Kakashi lifted a hand, petting the dog to comfort his unsettled eye. 

Beyond their makeshift shelter, the maturing sunrise was climbing over the row of hoveled buildings. The orange glow soaked their surroundings in warmth. His breathing finally relaxed as his fingers wove between the hounds grey mane. 

His mind wandered back to the mission assigned to them. A pit arose in his stomach, thinking of those men back in Konoha. He could only hope that Pakkun made it back to the village before dusk, as the Hokage had ordered. If those men died because he was too weak to return to the village on time, he would never forgive himself. Ayame had done her part, causing her to remain unconscious until her body recuperated from the strenuous amount of chakra she had used. 

Slowly, he pushed himself to his feet, dusting off the prior day's dirt he had neglected to clean from himself. He shook his head, scolding himself for the rash decision to rest last night rather than pushing on. It was not like him. But his body was weak from whatever it was he had inhaled. 

As he coolly acknowledged his ninken, he wondered again how he hadn't perished from whatever it was that filtered through his lungs yesterday. Perhaps it was only a temporary toxin meant to knock him out. Still, his body continued to feel off from whatever it was that had entered his airways. 

"I'm heading back to the village now," Kakashi told the dogs, their ears attentive to his words. Each nodded, understanding that they were no longer needed. One by one, they all disappeared from his sight, leaving small puffs of smoke in their wake. 

Kakashi sighed as he knelt in front of Ayame, touching her wrist carefully. He counted her heartbeats. 70, 71, 72. Normal. He exhaled. 

Gingerly, he tucked his hands around her shoulders and the backs of her legs, picking her up and holding her tightly to his chest. The earthy musk of yesterday's work mingling with her natural floral scent reached his nose intriguingly. 

As he began to walk towards the village's gate, he made an effort to look straight ahead. He knew if he looked down at her at such proximity, his whole body would flush. There was something about her that drew him to her, like a mariner to a siren. He could deny it all he wanted for the last two days, but the tightness in his chest as he carried her back to Konoha certainly told him otherwise.  

He felt absurd, like some little schoolboy with a crush on a classmate who would go above and beyond to deny it to anyone who asked, including himself. What would happen if he just ignored it? Perhaps he would leave her at the hospital and never see her again? The mission was complete, he thought. He would never have to deal with these strange feelings of attraction again. 

That is what he would do - ignore it. He didn't need this type of distraction in his life. He had a job to fulfill and a village to protect. It's not that he couldn't have had a relationship before if he wanted one. He could have easily pursued some of the women in the village. And yet, he didn't. The number of people he had lost in his life was a strong indication that whoever was near him died. He didn't need to add to that number. 

He thought of Minato. The way he loved Kushina was something that very few shinobi find. He wished they could have been around longer to see Naruto grow and become the man he was now. He wished Minato could have been around to see who Kakashi had become. Perhaps he would know what to do in this instance.  

The morning light sliced through the forest's tree leaves, reflecting off Ayame's auburn braid tucked around her shoulder. It caught his eye, and he glanced down. All at once, an electric shock ran through his body quicker than his lightning blade could ever penetrate someone. The warmth of her body against his wrists generated a prickle to travel over his skin. He shook his head, taking a deep breath. Looking back up, he began forging ahead on his journey back to Konoha, feeling a strange sense of comfort. 

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

"Kakashi!" Izumo called out from behind the green gates of Konoha. His partner, Kotetsu, promptly ran out from behind the watch stand to greet the tired jonin. 

"You look exhausted, Kakashi," Kotetsu pointed out as he reached him. He looked down, observing the bundle of auburn braided hair tucked away in his arms.

"She needs medical attention," Kakashi told them passively. His arms felt numb from the hours of carrying her, but he needed to make up for the time he slept last night while she laid next to him, passed out. 

"Do you need help carrying her?" Izumo questioned, quirking an eyebrow curiously at the copy-ninja as he strode past them, headed in the direction of Konoha's hospital. 

"I've got it," he told them both calmly. He knew she would be alright, he told himself. But there was still that ounce of guilt he felt for getting himself into such a predicament the previous day where she needed to support herself with such little chakra she had. She was not a properly trained shinobi, yet she defended herself favorably. He thought again of how lucky she was even to be breathing. 

The cool air of the night tickled at his exposed cheekbones, causing them to burn the longer he stayed in the cold. He gripped her thighs and shoulders closer to him, feeling that her skin was chilled against his fingers.  

The end of a weekday night was wrapping up as Kakashi made his way towards the hospital, curious eyes accompanying him. Villagers and shinobi alike returning home after an honest day's work. The path to the hospital felt longer than usual, his bones weary from the long trip coupled with whatever it was that he had inhaled the previous day. His body yearned for the comfort of his bed. 

Looking down at Ayame, she stirred slightly against his chest. She grimaced in pain, despite remaining unconscious. The streetlamps above him illuminated the constellation of freckles across her wrinkled nose. He quickened his pace. 

When the two finally reached Konoha's hospital doors, Kakashi believed he might faint. Carefully, he handed Ayame off to a petite nurse with unexpected strength and a troubled gaze. As she left his arms, the warmth she had provided him quickly vanished, and the cold, sterile environment of the hospital enveloped him instead. 

With his mind in a haze, he caught the nurse's upper arm as they followed the petite one. He spewed everything he thought may help her to the nurse. 

"Thank you, Hatake-san," the nurse responded, perturbed by the interaction. "We will take good care of her."

"Kakashi-" he heard from behind him, his shoulders pushing back at the sound of the voice. Turning, Tsunade strode towards him with stern eyebrows. Nurses all around scattered. 

"Oi," He nodded respectively, "Hokage-sama -"

"Come with me," she interrupted him, curling a finger to indicate for him to follow her. Kakashi looked back in the direction the nurses had taken Ayame. He wondered about her condition. Another feeling of guilt washed over him. He had beaten the situation to death in his head as he had traveled back to Konoha. Different strategies he could have applied passed through his head continuously. It was a beginner's mistake.

The Hokage led Kakashi into an examination room, pointing immediately to the examination table to sit down. 

"Did Pakkun-?" Kakashi asked tiredly, his shoulders aching. 

"Yes, he made it back yesterday evening," Tsunade responded, her back towards him as she shuffled medical equipment around on the counter. He could feel his blood pressure rising the longer he stayed in the building. 

"We were able to successfully formulate the antidote, thanks to Ayame's quick thinking. Pakkun relayed the message to me. I'm glad you both made it back in one piece. Although I'm a little disappointed in the way things played out." 

Kakashi hung his head, examining the dirt under his fingernails and restlessly picking it out. 

"All the shinobi that came in have been treated and are on the mend now. Although their chakra levels will suffer, at least they are alive." 

Kakashi looked up, feeling the weight of the mission lift from his chest. He felt relieved to know the mission had been a success. 

"So tell me what it is that happened," Tsunade questioned, turning around to lean against the counter. Her arms folded against her busty chest, her caramel-colored eyes stern as she assessed him. 

Kakashi rehashed the knowledge he had acquired over the last few days. His eyes felt heavy as he told her of the state of Rōtasuagekure, the enemy they had unexpectantly encountered in the cache, and the toxin he had inhaled. 

"Obviously, this man has something to do with the poisoning of our men," Tsunade said firmly. "We need to find out more. You indicated this Daichi is a part of a group, it seems. We have to find out where they are from and how they acquired such a technique. And why they are targeting Konoha shinobi." 

Kakashi nodded, "I agree. It seems their jutsu is similar to Ayame's, more so in the sense of plant-based jutsu mixed with poison. I am unsure if Ayame is capable of creating poisonous foliage, but I'm sure it is not too far-fetched."

"Do you think these men are from Rōtasuagekure?  Or what is left of it?" 

"It could be," Kakashi held his chin, pondering the question as his mind flashed back to the desolate path that wound through that village. He thought of that boy that laid dead against the brick building. What could have happened there in such a short few years for such famine and decay to occur? 

"This Ayame girl," Tsunade began cautiously, "what do you think of her?"

Kakashi looked up, "she seems very capable."  

"I agree," Tsunade nodded, tapping her chin. "Pakkun's report was favorable. She saved herself, you, and Konoha's men. She may not have the shinobi academic background, but she could certainly learn. We could use another earth style on the force." 

Two silver eyebrows knitted together, "what was Pakkun's report?"

Tsunade looked down at Kakashi peculiarly, smiling lightly. "Although he hadn't seen the whole ordeal, he had seen what had happened after a hole had erupted from the ground where you two had disappeared through. He said he had smelled some fumes and came over." 

Kakashi lifted an eyebrow, "had he seen how she had killed Daichi?"

Tsunade nodded, "he said she had used some form of vines to asphyxiate him. It was unexpected of her, to say the least. And the chakra it took was evident by her fainting afterward, just as she did in my office."

"I'm surprised she had enough chakra to use the scroll," Kakashi said thoughtfully. 

"I know," Tsunade nodded in agreement. "Pakkun watched her produce that field. She fainted quickly afterward, and the other ninken kept her safe until you were awake. Her chakra levels are still low, but if she has gone from fainting at the quiver of a leaf to somehow being able to produce vines strong enough to kill someone, she has potential." 

"She learned to meditate," Kakashi explained to the Hokage. "I told her the general basics of chakra levels and how to acquire more through training. She seemed to have grasped it pretty rapidly."

"Well, that explains some," Tsunade mused, looking over at him. "You seem to have formed a good working relationship with her thus far. Perhaps you could train her." 

"I don't know about that," Kakashi waved a dismissive hand. He wanted to avoid her, not spend every day with her.

"With Sakura under my wing and Naruto off with Jiraya, I could easily grant you the time to provide her with proper training." 

Kakashi sighed heavily, rolling his shoulders to relieve the tension. 

"I'll think about it," he said finally, "we don't even know if she wants to be a shinobi."

"Think quickly. And as for you, I need you to lay back so I can examine you." 

"I'm sorry?" Kakashi questioned uncomfortably, his eyebrows lifting to under his silver bangs. 

"The amatoxins that you inhaled could have severely damaged your liver. If not for Ayame giving you the oral antidote, you would have died there slowly and painfully." 

Oral antidote? Kakashi asked himself. He reached up, touching his sternum where his jonin jacket had been unzipped. The tightness in his chest had just barely dissipated. The sticky substance underneath his mask made the realization evident that she had to have seen his face to give him the medicine. 

"Lean back, please," Tsunade demanded impatiently, her palms glowing green. 

Slowly, Kakashi lowered himself back to the examination table, his mind whirling from the influx of news he had just received. She had saved herself, him, and the Konoha shinobi with such little chakra, he couldn't believe she was even alive. 

As Tsunade's hands hovered over his side, Kakashi looked over through the glass door, and down the hallway the nurses had brought Ayame down. He considered Tsunade's words, her recommendation for her to become a Konoha shinobi. He wondered how she would react to such an offer. Would she want to be a part of such a system? To hone her skills and dive back into nature she had left behind in Rōtasuagekure? 

"She'll be alright," Tsunade said to him abruptly, her eyes glancing over at him. 

He turned his head back to look at the ceiling, not feeling himself. 

"I know." 

[sirensmojo]

“Remember The Missing” - Ivar The Boneless x Reader x Ubbe

Summary: You're sent to Kattegat by your uncle for settling a deal with King Ragnar. No need to mention as soon as your feet touch the dry ground, it's the Ragnarsons' eyes you caught.

Pairing: Ivar the Boneless x Reader x Ubbe (but All the Ragnarsons make an appearance)

Warnings: fluff, light smut, angst at the end

Word Count: 3,394

*Masterlist*

The brothers didn't have the same taste when it comes to women. Whenas Ivar and Sigurd fell for thralls, Hvitserk for simple woman, Ubbe for athletic shieldmaiden, when you dropped off the boat, their mouth surely dropped too. That's the first thing that caught your eyes, four tall men, dressed in fur, clean and braided hair with eyes as blue as the sky. Those piercing eyes were pointed right at you, although you were quite used to being stared at. From your tamed hair falling perfectly around your face shape, highlighting your complexion to your reddened cheeks from the cold that underlined Y/C eyes, making your pupils scintillate, every detail seemed to mesmerize them.

Once out of the boat, you readjusted your large and dark cloak that didn't allow the Vikings to check up on your body features but they'd bet their life everything about it was perfect. Your eyes sweep the areas without dawdling on things, as you found out what you looked for. You started to walk towards them, each of your step arousing their desire deep into their core, and stopped in front of them.

"King Ragnar, I surmise," your soothing voice purred in their ears like honey. You held your hand to the man and instead of shaking it, he pecks your fingers.  You slightly raised your brows but didn't make any comments.

You soon noticed the stares still on you and glanced at the men standing beside the King, tilting your head to the side in curiosity, the rumors were true. Men of the North were, indeed, handsome. Their features, the care accorded to their looks, even your nostrils betrayed you, as they curled up a little, their spicy wooded smell fondling your nose. "Here are my sons, from right to left: Ivar The Boneless, Hvitserk, Sigurd Snake In The Eye, and Ubbe." The bearded men spoke, lifting the veil on the identity of your seemingly new fans. You didn't miss how the four pairs of eyes have been devouring you but chose to ignore it for the sake of the alliance. Thus your clenched jaws indicated your displeasure.You had quite a temper, that was the exact reason why you were the one sent by your uncle. He tried many times to tame your ways... In vain. Although you promised him this time, you'll behave on behalf of everything he has done for you since the death of your late mother.

"I'm Y/n Of Stilfhel, pleasure is mine." You quickly bowed, gripping onto your dress for it not to meet the soil. The ragnarsons remained silent, not that you expected something else from them, seeing how focused they were to ogle you. You knew better. Everywhere you walked, people would stare at you, In your own kingdom it was because of your status, or so you'd like to believe. In foreign countries, you accepted it was because, for some reason, men found you pleasurable to look at. No need to mention that whenever you'd open your mouth, they would instantly lose interest in you, for you sounded nothing like a princess. When it wasn't you cursing, the problem was the topics on which you conversed. War, fights, battles, swords, economics, trading.

No men of your homeland needed or wanted a woman that had an opinion of everything.

But you were no princess, indeed, your uncle took you as his own daughter at the request of your mother back on her deathbed. This was her last wish, and your uncle being a good man led to you living in the palace without having the weight of duties on your shoulders. Maybe you grew too comfortable, thought your uncle at first, but he soon enough found out it was only you being you.

***

Once installed in the Great Hall, you take off your cloak and give it to the thrall waiting for it, exposing a beautiful azure dress made out of thick fabric. A single thin leather belt tightened it at your waist, revealing your curved hips and generous chest. Your sober dress didn't need any jewels or extravagance as your own body was already doing the job. An abnormal cut departing from your thighs down to your ankles betrayed your cover of "naive princess". If only they knew under that dress was hidden tones of small weapons, that thought making you smile. The man sat right in front of you did not miss any of your lips curling up as you brushed down your hands on the side of your dress, trying to hide the cut you made.

Traveling in that get-up was far from comfortable, you had to do something, right?

You thank the thrall with a small smile and finally sat down. "Is everything alright?" Asked Ragnar at the sight of your grimace. You forced a smile and nodded, "Yeah, of course. Everything's fine, my King" you succeed at answering. Glancing quickly around the table you slide your hands under your dress and straightens both your legs, trying to grab the hilt of your swords that buried itself into your ribs. When Hvitserk and Ivar abruptly turned their head towards you, both confused and satisfied, you firstly ignore them, but as your fingers finally grip onto your sword, their stare only grew more ravenous. At this exact instant, you understood what was happening, you were playing footsie with both of them. Your left foot caressing the inside thigh of Hvitserk whereas your right one got dangerously close of Ivar's core. A nervous rictus drew on your lips as you thought of something to get out this situation. You completely slump on the table to bridge the gap between your palm and the handle of your sword. Once you got it, you slowly push it out the piece of leather holding it and slide her against your bare skin before placing her on the ground. You fold your feet back to their initial position. Ivar was still looking at you, lips slightly parted with astonishment and desire twinkling in his eyes whereas Hvitserk's look was less shy in demonstration of what was going on in his mind.

"I've heard tones of stories about you Y/n," Ragnar let out as he motioned to a thrall to fill your cup with ale. Your eyes dawdled on the cup, as you kept your bottom lips in between your teeth. "Of me?" You faint not to know what he was talking about. "How so?" You added, your eyes still fixed on the liquid purring down in the container. If you start drinking now, you'll still be there in the morning, completely drunk but still wanting more ale. You will not be able to control yourself anymore, and the pretty princess will be gone."That you'd never been beaten by ale," The king continues with a defying tone. "Oh yeah? You're sure it's about me?" You raised a brow at him, glancing at the people around the table. You'd be ready to receive ugly stares by now, but they didn't come, to your surprise. Usually, as soon as someone used to put that subject on the table when with your uncle, grimaces could be seen on the surrounding faces while murmurs could be heard. 

Here, stares were fixed on you, but without any grimaces nor disgusted sounds. The men around the table were quite intrigued, maybe they didn't know what their father spoke about. You grabbed the cup hungrily, some of its content escaping the cup to drop on the oak table. You sipped a mouthful of liquor, squinting your eyes at the feelings of the liquid spreading into your body.

"Y/n Of Stilfhel, there's only one, isn't it?" Ragnar bantered as you finished your cup sooner said than done. You glanced at the thrall standing near the doors and motioned her to come. Once she presented herself before you, you carefully took off her hands the carafe and spill some more liquid into your cup. "So you heard about my superpower," you nonchalantly replied. "You must've traveled a lot to have found out. I've never put my feet on that ground before." You pointed the spot with your cup. "I have, but let's not dawdle on my idle stories, please tell us more about your presence here." "It is said, the agreement you share with my uncle must be sealed someway," Hearing your words, the heart of the men surrounding you fluttered. The first thing they thought about when hearing "sealing"  was marriage. Of course, it was. Why else letting a princess journey by herself to a foreign country?

They glanced at their father, then at you. Soon their eyes flickered from on to another's face. It was to who will seduce you first. You were a challenge atop of being a mystery. 

***

Ubbe leaned in your ear and murmured a joke about Sigurd, which make you choked on your drink. You glanced at the poor target of the man sitting beside you and shook your head both sides giggling. He instantly scowled at his brother, wondering what he could've said. Minutes passed before Hvitserk dared to approach you, he tried to be subtle but, hard luck for him, you weren't that naive. He fainted to join your side of the table to serve himself some more ale, glancing at you here and there. This whole scene made you laugh but you tried to muffle it, as you didn't want to lose all the fun. "Is the ale good?" He tried. "I don't know, you tell me," you raised your brows, as he neared his cups to his lips. He chuckled as he sips some of his drink. "How is that you're never drunk?" "Gods, believe me, I am, most of the time, but I can stand still, even play strategic games!" You heartedly let out as you leaned toward him. "Yeah? We should test that then, I'll wait right in my seat for you to come when you'll be very drunk," he winces at you as he got up from the chair beside you. "Count on it," you flirted back with a soft voice. You attentively followed his moves until some lips encountered your ear. Ubbe, this man really wasn't afraid of anything, his extreme proximity surprisingly warmed you up. Even if wasn't winter yet, the nights were cold, your skin being very sensitive did not help.

"I bet a night with you he'll be sleepy drunk in exactly 4 more cups," the man mutters in your neck, as a shiver spread from your back to your arms. Gods only know how, but he noticed it, looking down and grabbing your hands in his. "Bet held," you exhaled, trying to get away from his grip, but he didn't let go. Your eyes go to both his hands squeezing yours to his face. You didn't realize how close he was, only few inches away. If he turned his head to you at this precise moment, your lips would practically touch. The warmth emanating from his fondles spread to both your arm before dangerously nearing your guts, the center of your aroused desire. Now that he was so close, you noticed the straightness of his jaw, the plumpness of his lips, and how soft his skin seemed to be. When he turned his face, you managed to slip your hands out his grip and move your head backward, a nervous laugh escaping your gritted teeth. He was more than enticing, no doubt.

But you didn't come for that...

Speaking of your duty, your brows knitted as your eyes were searching the place for Ragnar. He wasn't there anymore. "Told you," Ubbe chuckled pointing out his little brother Hvitserk, face down to the table. "Yeah, he seems a bit dead, but I guess he's okay. At least, I hope," you grimaced, tilting your head. You needed to get some fresh air, some hours ago you were in a boat, almost alone, only with a few guards that your uncle forced you to bring and now you were surrendered by a bunch of handsome men. You excused yourself to Ubbe and walk perfectly fine to the doors. The man slid his head to the side, his mouth forming an "o", as he watched you walk away. He was more looking at your body than anything, your curves bouncing from a foot to the other. Once out, you exhaled deeply, closing your eyes a few seconds. "A bit overwhelmed?" you heard a voice, knocking you out the bubble you were in. "I'm not going to lie," you admitted, looking down. "I see you can stand as straight as if no ale oozed in your system. So it was what my father was talking about," "I know you can do better than that." You cut him off, making Ivar turns his head to yours, while you were looking faraway before you. "Huh?" He pondered, still gazing at you. "I love to talk about battles and war. Not about me being okay with drinking ten dozens of cups of ale," you confessed. "Than I wondered what you were talking about with my brother," he bluntly let out, shrugging. "He's got some move" you tried to convince him. He perfectly understood you were talking about Ubbe's ability to seduce women and riposted as soon as your words left your throat. He certainly knew what he was talking about. "Oh, I don't doubt that. I only thought you wouldn't let yourself be trapped in it," "I'm not," "So why you got out?" "I--I..." you stuttered, without being able to invent anything. Perhaps the ale was starting to get to your head.

"My name's Ivar, not 'I--I'," he mimicked your pout and voice. You hassled to chuckle and nudged him. "Stilfhel is an interesting name," Ivar let out, loudly breathing out. "As interesting as Y/n?" You gauge his reaction with a small smile at the corner of your lips. "See, you are flirty with me now,"

"Arrrgh, you're too quick for me," you faked being offended. "I bet you knew the way of sealing the alliance between both our lands have nothing to do with marriage." He nodded to himself, slowly understanding your games. "True, but I couldn't restrain myself to play a little with the minds of your brothers..." You paused, closely looking at the Viking. A genuine smile brightened your face, your eyes crinkled. "I'm glad it didn't get on you,"

"Sigurd didn't try anything,"

"Because he saw Hvisterk kind off failing," You tilted your head to him, only to encounter his eyes. They were as blue as your dress. You soon drown into them as he didn't move his stare. "Ivar The Boneless, right?" "Hmm," he agreed, clearing his throat. "I'll remember it," you mutter for yourself.

***

You tried to remember the words of the thrall when you asked her about the chamber of the Prince. You were drunk, the ale was deeply rooted in your system, but that doesn't stop you from walking through the corridors before you opened a door. "Y/n? Wha--t" "Shhh", you responded as you got closer the bed. You finally crawled into it, dangerously getting nearer the man. As you approached, Ubbe leaned his back on his pillows, intently watching your gestures. You finally got on top of him, leaning onto his chest, your lips dropping feverish kisses on his lower belly. His eyes didn't leave yours, he was concentrated in the twinkle in your eyes as if he looked away, you'll vanish in a cloud of smoke. You slowly started to kiss your way up to his neck, which you bite before playing with his skin in between your teeth. His silent groans directly reached your ears making your desire for him grew stronger each time his hoarse voice resonated in your head.  When you straddled him, after benching up your dress to your hips, he exhaled deeply, relieved the space between you has been filled. His hands ceased your hips, slowly sliding to your ass as he nuzzled his way to your face, making you look at him. Your mouth was open, your eyes getting lost together. "You're so beautiful," he slurred, incapable of letting go of your stare. "You're even more," you offered him a smile that made his heart skip a beat.  He swiftly crashed his lips on yours, making moan. He kneaded your skin with so much strength, you were sure to found bruises wherever he touched later.  You ground down on him, feeling his growing bump right in between your tighs, where you were already ready for him.

***

After you make out, Ubbe directly fell asleep, you didn't know if it was because of your little sport session or the alcohol. Whatever, you weren't asleep, unlike you. It wasn’t enough. You wanted more, you needed more than sex. You planned on going back to your room, but instead, you stopped before another door, his door. You remember the blue of his eyes, his expression when you were face to face around the table earlier, and the way he articulated your name: with such harmony and softness. You pushed open the door, entering a total black room, "Ivar?" you ask loudly, making sure the door was closed behind you before asking for him.  At first, you were welcomed by a silence, but as your eyes got used to the darkness, you could glimpse of two light sparkles turned right at you. "I--hum..." you couldn't find the right words, how did you find yourself so nervous when not even an hour ago you were entering Ubbe's chamber so confidently? "Can I stay with you?" your voice echoed in the room as if it was empty. Still no response. You moved forward the bed, aiming at the opposite side of where you glimpsed the scintillating eyes. "I take that as a yes," you continued to talk, even if he didn't want you or even talk to you, you couldn't help but feel the need to be in his company again. "I'm coming under the furs, alright? Welcome me there." you encouraged him. "You lied," he finally spoke. You were shifting your body inside of the shits, under the furs when you stopped in track. Did he recognize you? "Earlier you said you never put a foot down this soil, you lied," he finished, quite bluntly.

You wanted to speak but the saliva in your mouth was too thick, even making it hard to swallow. You gave-up your chance to give him an explanation. 

"I knew I already saw your face before, not too long ago actually. You left me waiting for something that would've never happened," his tone was firm but not angry. "Why?" His voice broke to silence. "I knew I wasn't staying for long, I didn't want you to wait for me. You were supposed to forget me, Ivar..." You murmured, without trying to justify yourself. "How could I forget what I gave you, what we shared?" "I don't know," you allowed."Me neither, but still you lied to me back then, about your name, your status, everything!"

"I didn't lie when I came sneaking close to your body every night. I didn't lie when we were meeting in secret in the woods to look at the sunsets and lying on our back watching the forms of the clouds," you lowly let out as you got closer to his chest. Your palm patted his torso before going up to his cheek. Now you're holding his face so his eyes stick with yours, unable to escape from your hold, just like you used to two years ago. "When my uncle asked for a messenger I volunteered," you started to be swoon. His ablaze stare would kill you right now if they could. Instead, Ivar lifted his rough and huge hand to your face, wiping away the few tears that have filled up your eyes. "I wanted to see you again, feel you again..." you added as he pulled your head toward his bare chest. Your eyes closed, and your mind eased in less than a minute, soothed by the rhythm of the Viking's heartbeats. 

"Don't leave," he managed to articulate despite the nervousness inhabiting him at this instant. His arms closed around your weak body as he held you tightly against him, to your greatest pleasure.

Ivar Permanent Tag: @youbloodymadgenius​

[justimajin]

It’s a Reverse Basket ◍ Part 13

⇝ Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

⇝ Genre: Fluff, Comedy, Angst

↳ Basketball AU, Crossdressing AU

⇝ Words: 3.4k

⇝ Summary: Basketball is your everything; your passion for it running deep and wanting nothing more then to play the sport. Problem is, the sport isn’t offered competitively to girls and with that, all your hopes immediately fizzle away… …but who ever said that was going to stop you?

⇝ Warnings: pg13; I was smiling like crazy while posting this so there’s your biggest warning

gif credit.

⇝ Previous Parts: Moodboard Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

⇝ Next Update: Tuesday, June 9 

The park is insanely crowded.

Parents, children, couples, the elderly; all of them populate and flood the area. Some choosing to sit on the benches with frozen dessert filled cones underneath the humid sun, while others are occupied in either flying kites or conversing with one another, too lost in thought to notice the grand tree that sits in the middle of the recreational area.

Thankfully, it’s length provides more than enough shade from the blazing heat outside, a deep exhale of relief passing by the seams of your lips. The dancing wind in the air whistles by you, weaving through the locks that fall down from your shoulders and drape all the way to your waist. You unconsciously straighten your posture, the high elevation of your shoes barely stabilizing your body’s weight and leaving your feet to be stuck in between the cracks of the concrete. A hand remains firm on the dangling bag hanging off your shoulder, resting right on top of the brightly coloured skirt that hugs your thighs.

Glancing up, your wide eyes roam around until someone walks past you, flinching and hiding your face beneath the confines of your giant floppy hat. Another sigh manages to leave you, arms tightly hugging your form when the reminiscence memories of your current situation begin to surface.

***

It starts off with a mere question. 

Yoongi stands before you after practice, a smile drawn out on your lips despite the heaving exhaustion reigning high on your limbs and the excess of water clinging to your skin. He doesn’t make eye contact with you, rather he opts out for keeping his gaze fixated on the ground as a hand comes up to rub the back of his neck. 

“Do you–…..” A sigh escapes him, shoulders shrugging down. You almost want to ask if there’s something wrong, words soon becoming forgotten when Yoongi suddenly turns and holds seriousness in his stance. 

“Do you want to go somewhere?”

“Oh, now?” You place your basketball into the cart, dusting off your shorts and jersey before glancing at him curiously. Yoongi deeply sighs, lightly shaking his head.

“I meant alone.”

“Alone…?” You ponder, observing around to see that everyone had been long gone since your practice had come to an end. Even Jungkook and Taehyung didn’t manage to stay behind, too famished from the tiring session to wait any longer.

Yoongi sighs again, your eyes darting everywhere when you can’t seem to string together his collection of thoughts. He also appears incredibly annoyed, something that causes you to ramble with a series of your own inquiries instead.

“Did you need to tell me something? We can talk here, we’re alone and–“ 

“I-I mean…” Yoongi exhales, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Outside of this court, alone, going out somewhere together.”

You naively blink at him, appearing even more confused than before and Yoongi sighs for what feels like the fiftieth time, hands raising to completely cover his face. It’s only until you see the light hue of pink spreading across him that a bulb finally begins to regain some light, eyes are big as a deer’s and words sputtering out jumbled. 

“O-Oh…” You lightly laugh, unsure of what to do in the circumstance. When Yoongi glances at you with hopeful eyes, it dawns on you just how much he’s been wanting to ask you this.

“Sure.” You softly smile, “We can go somewhere together.”

His shoulder slump down from the giant exhale of relief that escapes him, a blinding smile on his features that you have to admit has your heart fluttering a bit. “Great, meet me at the park near the school tomorrow.”

You nod, following him outside of the gym. As soon as you wave him off, you whirl around to head back to your dorm, the brightening smile on your lips being far too evident when the giddiness rushes over you. You’re practically gleaming with joy until you head outside.

The sound of immediate water bulleting onto the ground makes you frown, the ill prospect of having to walk through it occuring in your mind. However, not even the weather manages to dampen your mood when you splash around the puddles forming in between gaps of the cement, a dazed look still in your eyes.

When you plop into a certain puddle that has a large amount of water bursting over your shoes, you giggle until the water settles back into its original place, eyes falling onto the way it whirls and pools around to transform a blurry reflection of you into a clearer one. Your smile drops, feet slowly padding forward to get a better look.

Your soaked hair barely falls down onto your cheeks, beads of water sticking to skin that hasn’t been taken care of in exchange for rigorous practices. The jersey you wear is completely oversized, glancing down to see the baggy shorts it meets and the beaten-up shoes that have been roughly laced up.

Tired eyes stare at the puddle again, traces of doubt emerge upon your face. You start to slowly back away, immediately rushing back to your dorm as fast as you can.

***

“Helloo~” A voice calls out into the abyss of the dorm, eyes falling onto you slumped on the couch. Her brows furrow, brown locks wrapped up in a bun and a large bag secured in her hands. “Y/N?”

You glance up, not even noticing her arrival until she had called you from the doorframe. Scurrying from the couch, you immediately apologize.

“It’s great to see you again.” You move to hug her and Hyerin laughs.

“Of course I’m back.” There’s a snicker in her voice when she parts from you, “My best friend’s going on a date after all!”

You lightly chuckle at that and she glances around, hugging the bag closer to her form.

“Is  anyone here….?”

You shake your head, “Jungkook and Taehyung are out.”

“Great!” She hurriedly unzips her bag, emptying out the contents within an instant. You look over with wide eyes to see an array of clothes, cosmetics and accessories.

Hyerin smirks, “I had to come prepared.” Whirling around, she hands you a mountain of clothes, “Quick, try these on!”

Nodding, you head into your room and set the flourishing pile down onto your bed. Moving to close the door, you pause as you catch sight of the mirror hanging on your wall, eyes latching onto the reflection. 

Hyerin dips into your room, head poking in. “Y/N! Come on, why aren’t you trying them on?”

You smile at her warily and she frowns, shuffling closer to you, “Is everything okay?”  

“I don’t know…” You honestly admit, “I kind of wonder if Yoongi’s even attracted to me….”

“Attracted to you?” Hyerin stands in front of the mirror, “What do you mean?”

You nod over to your reflection, “This is what he sees all the time, this hair, this jersey.”

You gesture to yourself and concern takes hold of Hyerin’s eyes. Although you’re glad she’s here to help you, you can’t help but wonder. Admittedly playing a sport all the time doesn’t help either, being in a constant state of sweaty exhaustion that doesn’t leave much to the beholder’s eye. 

“Y/N…” Hyerin whispers, “Listen, he definitely likes you. I mean, we’re talking about a guy here who’s seen you wearing a god-awful fake wig and then practicing basketball every single day with him.” You softly smile at that, “Maybe we shouldn’t do this if you’re not comfortable with it….”

“No!” You hurriedly say, shaking your head. Although you had initially asked Hyerin to help you look like yourself for this, a part of you just misses the natural appearance as well. It had been something you’ve wanted to show Yoongi too, growing tired of constantly concealing your identity around him and living in the fear of someone finding out. “I-I want to do this…you’re right.”

She spins around with a smile, glancing down at the clothes she’s picked out for you. “And besides, he’s already kissed you so I’m definitely assuming there’s some attraction there.”

Her comment leaves you entirely flustered, skin brightly flushing and her laugh ringing through when she knows the remark has gotten to you. After breaking you out of your embarrassed state, Hyerin gives you some time to try out the clothes she’s brought and you faintly smile viewing the clothes you used to once upon a time constantly wear.  

 You end up picking out a white sweater and a light blue skirt from the abundant pile, something you would have casually worn on a normal day. After some endless persuasion from Hyerin, you’ve given a flashing silver purse and matching heels as a result, trying the ensemble on and spinning around to show her. 

“I feel like we’re missing something….” You remark. Hyerin knowing smirks, grabbing a long mop of locks from her bag and combing them out.

“And I think I know exactly what it is.”

You laugh as she places it on your head, her eager eyes being grateful to have some form of your long hair back, even if it wasn’t permanent. When you stand up to glance at the mirror again, your lips stretch out wide when you’re staring at the you from so long ago, the one that didn’t know where her future would have eventually taken her.

Once Hyerin places a hat on your head to conceal your face, you wave her a goodbye as you prepare to leave and she wishes you good luck, remarking that if Yoongi doesn’t pass out at the sight of you she’ll make sure he will.

***

You spare a glance at your watch again, quickly scanning the area without leaving the shade. Pursuing your lips, it’s only until you recognize the faint jogging from a distance that hopes fills you.

Yoongi plants his hands on his knees, heaving for a second as you wait with a soft smile. When he stands up, you can see the slight flush in his cheeks, exhaustion weighing heavy on his eyes. He’s dressed in a plain white shirt and ripped jeans, a blue beanie sitting on top of his head and his red locks poking out underneath.

You watch his expression contort from relief into astonishment, eyes wide as he takes a step back.

“Y-Y/N?”

You’re puzzled by his reaction, the realization of your appearance suddenly dawning on you and a light laugh escaping your lips. 

“I figured since we’re not at school…”

“Right, right.” Yoongi shakes his head far too many times, standing next to you with his hands stuffed in his pockets. When abruptly he starts walking, you slowly shuffle behind, careful not to trip over the stones in the gravel.

Yoongi pauses as you catch up to him, a silent stare in his eyes when he lifts his hand out of his pocket. You look up in surprise when he laces his fingers with yours, breaking all eye contact with you.

“J-Just so you don’t get lost.” He mumbles under his breath, steadying his pace more to meet up with your own. You can’t stop the soft smile that curls up on your lips at that, remaining glued to his side.

“Where are we going?” You question, a little confused since he never mentioned the exact place he wanted to take you.

Yoongi doesn’t say anything, simply pointing in the direction ahead and your eyes narrow where a large field is located. It’s swarmed with people, many walking alongside you towards it in groups and the realization only strikes you once you enter through the large metal doors, roars and screams echoing into your ears.

Your eyes are enlarged, almost transfixed with the giant stadium and the large scale. You begin to tremble a bit as well, so overwhelmed that you accidentally bump into someone, Yoongi being quick to catch you before you stumble.

“T-Thanks.” You sheepishly whisper, still stuck with awe as Yoongi chuckles. His grip on your hand becomes firm, practically racing to get you a quick seat on the bleachers.

As you plop down on a spot that is emerged within the large crowd, Yoongi can only stare at you with a smile when your eyes fluctuate, taking in every single detail like it was the last time you were ever going to see any of it.

He leans in closer to your ear, “Like it?”

“Like it?” The words seem too less to describe what you’re feeling right now, “I-I love it….I didn’t know there was going to be a game here, I’ve always wanted–“

He’s grinning when you face him, a laugh stifling out from you, “I’ve always wanted to come here, thank you.”   

Yoongi nods, already understanding the excitement. He was initially nervous when the idea first struck him, caught up in debating if you would like it or if he was making a horrible mistake.

However there was no questioning that spark he’s noticed in your eyes when you talk about basketball, a glimmer of hope for him that more than anything else, this something you would end up truly loving.

The lights flash and your eyes widen, Yoongi moving to point over to the players entering in. The crowd begins to shriek, the lights following each member as they take the center stage.

Anticipation practically bubbles in you, head darting back and forth with impatient eyes to see the referee strutting into the middle. Once the whistle is blown, the players instantly begin to sprint, racing after the bright orange ball that becomes difficult to trace with every impending minute. One of them, the one currently grasping onto the basketball, dribbles it rapidly in between his feet before sending it over to one of his other members, the action being so quick that your eyes can barely keep up.

“A crossover dribble.” Yoongi whispers, your eyes lighting up when he shuffles closer. You don’t even realize the proximity, too keen on understanding, “If he waited a minute longer, he could have tripped and the game wouldn’t have been counted.”

You hum, watching another member do it but much quicker, picking up on the fact that speed was crucial in order to do such a pass. The member then spins rapidly, launching the ball behind him as a way to confuse the defense of the opposite team.

“He caught his attention first but then threw the ball away, his team needed to be prepared to do something like that.” Yoongi points over to the member that was standing behind the first one, ready to receive the basketball when the ball suddenly is launched from behind. You hum again, the initial anticipation of the game wearing out when you become more interested in picking up how the team before you was able to stay so on top of their game, swiftly gaining a point.

Yoongi thankfully continues to explain any difficult passes and techniques, your questions also considering the fact that your team hasn’t learned most of it. He then explains that certain techniques required too much training, so he and Namjoon instead focus more on strengthening the basic skills first before jumping towards levels where the entire team can struggle. It’s admirable to hear, comprehending that organizing such a giant team made up of your members with different strengths, can prove to be a lot difficult when the entire team needs to be on the same ground instead of varying ones.

A soft smile curls on your features when your attention is captured by one of the members, his intense speed and stroke of observation enabling him to soar over to the opposite end of the goal, swiftly ducking through all the members after him. When he passes the ball to another member and they score, he grins and runs over to them to give a high five, a giggle being earned from you.

“What is it?” Yoongi curiously questions, your hand pointing over to him.

“That guy, he kind of reminds me of Taehyung.”

Yoongi chuckles, pointing to another one, “There’s a Jungkook too.”

Surely the person Yoongi points to is the one that’s constantly latched onto the basketball, intent on scoring as fast as possible but being continuously halted by the other team who recognize him as a target. His appearance is similar as well, something that only has you further agreeing with him too.

“But we don’t have any of the other members….” You sadly whisper, but Yoongi smirks.

“I think I found a Y/N though.”

You raise an eyebrow when he points over to the shortest member, one you’ve noticed appears to have the most energy and determination as he quickly dusts himself off and rushes to assist other members of his team. Although his mannerisms and vibe are very similar to you, his arms and legs ripple with huge muscles and his face is completely covered with a beard. 

You make a face at that, which doesn’t allow Yoongi to hold back his stifling laughter. He goes on and on, making you pout at the implication.

“Yoongi….” You exasperatedly whine. 

“I was just teasing.” He reassures, but then he starts making comments about how familiar the man looks, pondering if he was really a girl disguised as a guy.

“Yoongi!” You whisper louder this time and he keeps snickering, failing to keep the smile that crosses you under bay as well. You laugh alongside him when he debates if you should ask for an autograph and how the story could be inspiring, eventually stopping his ramble when you lean your head against his shoulder, a comfortable silence overtaking you as you both continue watching the rest of the game.  

***

Night falls by the time the game ends, a large volume of people rising from their seats instantly and having you stick closer to Yoongi, afraid you’ll get mixed up within the chaotic crowd. Although he still keeps a firm grasp on your hand, your heels manage to get caught up on some grass and you get pushed back. Yoongi whirls around, attempting to catch a glimpse of you through the sea of people and your waving hand from afar greets him. He grits trying to make his way across, grabbing onto you and hastily yanking so you don’t get lost again. Unfortunately, he ends up tugging a little too hard, resulting in you stumbling and falling right against him. Your arms enclose around his torso and your head rests on top of his chest, but he doesn’t seem to mind the position as you slowly make you out.

Once all the people disperse, you eventually have to clear your throat to make Yoongi realize he’s literally hugging you, his arms hurriedly breaking away with a quiet apology.

He walks you back to your dorm, the slight breeze in the air making you shiver and wanting to get into the warmth of the building right away. Turning around, you’re about to thank Yoongi for taking you to watch the game but he beats you to it.

“Y/N I–…” His mouth clamps shut when he gazes at you, lips downturned.

Crossing your arms, you pad closer to him in concern. “Yoongi, what is it?” 

“Maybe you’d like to go out like this some other time? You know, like a…?” He gestures in between you two, nose scrunched as if the words themselves weren’t reaching his voice just yet. 

You can’t help the question that bubbles out, practically blurting it out.

“L-Like a couple…?”

Yoongi still can’t seem to retort anything to that, so you immediately take the opportunity up and give an answer.

“Sure, I uh,” You smile, “I’d really like that.”

You miss the way his eyes light up, features softening already from the prospect as you grace him with a tender smile. After bidding him goodbye, you calmly head back into the building and smoothly enter the elevator. Once your floor arrives, you quietly pad into the room knowing that your roommates are probably asleep by now, however the moment you enter your room, you’re forced to instantly cover the spreading blush overtaking your features, the huge smile on your lips already straining against your cheeks.

[jettingtothemoon]

Save You; chapter 6

➳ pairing: hector x witch|reader ➳ genre: fantasy, angst, fluff ➳ warnings: violence, swearing, smut, mentions of rape, past slavery, spoilers for seasons 1 thorough 3. ➳ word count: 2382 ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ summary: In which y/n and Hector continue to flee from the council of sisters, finding refuge among an unlikely acquaintance with fresh scars and a cold personality. ➳ Part two of, ’Rescue You’.

Chapters: 01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08, 09,

Fun and Games

Neither you nor Hector asked Alucard any of the questions that were swirling around in your heads. You had both sensed that it was probably not the time to ask him about it and decided you just needed to reassure him that it was okay.

Alucard needed to know that neither of you were judging him or going to push him to tell you anything he wasn't ready to talk about. After all, you still barely knew him, but you at least wanted him to know that you were not like whoever had hurt him. You wanted him to know that you weren't going to do anything that would harm him as they did, however that may have been.

Instead of asking about it, you made idle chitchat about things like the weather or how the boy seemed to be settling in well. Alucard smiled when you mentioned the boy, it seemed as though he had also warmed to the child but it was clear he still felt that guilt for getting himself into a state so early in the morning.

Lunch lasted no longer than half an hour and, by the time it was over, Alucard was trying to leave again. Trying to run away.

"Stay with us for a while. I'm sure we can find something fun to do." You grinned, hoping that your friendliness would comfort Alucard rather than scare him away.

He met your eyes, absentmindedly brushing his long hair over his shoulder, "You want me to stay with you?"

You nodded but Hector spoke before you could, "Sure. We're living under the same roof so we might as well get to know each other better."

Alucard looked so shocked, so confused. He didn't understand why the two of you were making an effort with him, especially after what happened this morning, but he could feel the sincerity in your tones. Neither of you were planning anything malicious. You just sincerely wanted to try and get along with the man who's home you were staying in. Hector did have a point though, you couldn't all live here avoiding each other forever.

"Okay. What 'fun' thing did you have in mind then?" Alucard turned back to you with a rather blank expression, clearly not comfortable enough with either of you to show anything more than his usual microscopic expressions.

A smirk pulled at the corner of your lips, "Boys, we are going to play a game."

The two men looked at you, both with very different expressions. Alucard looked, well, like Alucard, monotonous with only the faintest hint of emotion hiding in his features. Hector, however, furrowed his brows and tried to decipher whatever plan was brewing in your mind.

~~~

"Hide and seek? Seriously?" Alucard huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yes. We're playing hide and seek. Oh, and you're counting." You grinned, extending a finger towards Alucard, who pointed his own finger into his chest.

"Me?"

"Yes, you. The three of us will go and hide from you, then you'll come and find us." Hector explained, gesturing to himself, you and the boy.

Alucard rolled his eyes and pointed down by the boy's feet where Cezar stood excitedly wagging his tail, "You mean the four of you."

"Yes, the four of us but Cezar and the boy will be together so they only count as one point."

The half-vampire raised an eyebrow, "We're doing points?"

"Of course we are. You find all of us, you get three points. For each point you get, you can ask a favour from one of us. But if you can't find us we get the point and you owe us a favour." You explained.

"Okay then but prepare to lose. I hate to admit it but I have the upper hand." Alucard declared, seemingly finding at least some of the competitiveness that resided inside of him.

You smirked, "We'll see about that."

Just like that, you, Hector and the boy all ran off in different directions, each heading to opposite ends of the castle.

"Don't forget, you can't stop until you get to one hundred." You yelled down the hall right before turning out of sight.

Alucard sighed but nonetheless lifted his hands up over his eyes and began to count, "One, two, three..."

As he counted, he made sure to focus his hearing, listening to all of your footsteps echoing as you grew further away. He was sure he was alone, standing in that hallway. All of you had run far away, surely finding what you believed to be the perfect hiding spots. But, not only did Alucard have the upper hand ability-wise, he also grew up in this castle. You and Hector knew the halls well, sure, but you had only been here for a year or so with Dracula. Alucard had lived here all his life, except for that year or so in which you and Hector occupied the castle with Dracula and his other generals. He was certain that not much could have changed in such a short time.

"Ninety-two, ninety-three, ninety-four, ninety-five..."

By the time he reached one hundred counts, the castle sounded still. Whatever movement there had been before had ceased. It was almost as if all of you simply disappeared into thin air, leaving him there alone once again. That thought had Alucard beginning to worry, his head spinning until his breathing grew heavy. He didn't want to be alone, not again, not anymore.

He began to rush through the halls at lightning speed, leaving nothing behind but a rush of passing wind as he zoomed through the castle. He was panicking, he was scared that you had left him behind too. Like they did. Like they all did.

He grew out of breath and stopped, hunching over with his hands on his knees as he caught his breath back. That was when he heard it, the subtle clang coming from a distant end of the castle. You were still here, you hadn't left him. Of course, you hadn't. This was just a game, only a game. Alucard knew he had overreacted, he knew it was all in his head. This was hide and seek for god's sake, the whole purpose was to hide and try not to be found. His breathing calmed back down and he began to make his way towards the sound, using a more normal speed to do so.

His hearing helped him as he stalked the halls looking for you and soon, he could even make out the faint, controlled breathing of someone with a somewhat deep voice.

Hector.

Alucard picked up his pace but tied to remain quiet as he followed the sound of the steadily beating heartbeat. Although it was just a pointless game, for children nonetheless, his heart was pounding. His veins were running with the tingle of adrenaline and, for the first time in a long while, he felt alive again.

His footsteps seemed to have been too loud as he neared the location of his prey because soon Hector was moving again. And so, the pursuit began.

Two grown men, both very much like children in their own ways, playing a game of cat and mouse in the halls of a large, probably haunted, castle. It was ridiculous and, had anyone else been told that one day none other than one of Dracula's generals and his own son would be playing a game of hide and seek along with a witch and a mute child, well, none one would have believed it.

Alucard could feel the heat coursing through his veins as he chased after Hector. Hearing the forgemaster swerve down another hallway only made him pick up the pace. He ran and ran, trying not to use his vampiric speed as he was sure you and Hector would later tell him that it was cheating to do so.

The pursuit went on for a couple of minutes and before long, it became much too easy to follow the sound of Hector's hearty laughter. Alucard had chased him around the floor and down the stairs before he finally caught up with him, covering the final meter of distance between him and the man with silver hair with a burst of energy before pouncing on top of him.

Hector chuckled again as Alucard climbed off of him, helping him to his feet with a smirk, "Caught you."

"So you did." Hector sighed, rubbing his arm from where it had hit the floor upon his fall.

"Is your arm okay? Maybe jumping on top of you was a little overboard." Alucard asked, looking somewhat genuinely concerned that he had harmed the forgemaster.

"I spent weeks being beaten by Carmilla, this is nothing." Hector chuckled light-heartedly about the ordeal he went through during his time with Carmilla for the first time since, well, ever.

Alucard, however, didn't see this as a joking matter and immediately began to sympathise with Hector, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Really, it doesn't hurt. Anyway. I'm going to go and get some water. I believe you have two more of us to find before the day is done." Just like that, Hector was leaving and, although he really did seem okay, Alucard found himself wanting to reach out to stop him from walking off alone. Instead, however, he pushed that thought- that feeling -to the side and decided that was going to find you next.

As you hid, hoping that Alucard wouldn't think to look for you in the most obvious place, your heart continued to pound in your chest. The castle was almost silent but the faint echo of laughter that had reached you a few moments ago revealed to you that it was likely Hector had been caught by now. He was probably now heading for a glass of cold water, looking out the window at the pattering rain as he wondered how long it would take Alucard to find the rest of you.

Not long, apparently, as you soon heard footsteps coming your way.

Alucard was in no rush as he strolled down the hall, seemingly passing the curtain in which you were hiding behind. You cocked an eyebrow, wondering just how he had managed to pass you when you really weren't putting much thought or effort into remaining hidden from him.

The sound of his footsteps continued to fade until you were certain that he had passed, leaving you to wonder if it really was him who had walked past.

Maybe it was Hector? But why would he be in this part of the castle?

Your heartbeat quickened but this time, you began to feel afraid.

What if someone else had gotten into the castle while you were playing your games? What if it was Carmilla or one of her soldiers?

Slowly, you backed out from behind the curtains in the direction opposite to where the footsteps had headed. The moment you were revealed, a shadow seemed to cast over your position and your back hit something solid.

You froze as two arms held your own, a smirk by your ear, "Caught you."

You breathed a sigh of relief and turned around, slapping the man's shoulder, "Alucard! You scared me to death."

He simply brought a hand up to his face and chuckled, clearly rather amused that he had managed to make you jump. It was nice to see him smile, to see the slight crease in his eyes. He almost looked happy.

"Who's left?" You inquired.

"Just the boy and that dog. I caught Hector not too long ago."

With a nod of your head, you hummed. You had known Hector was caught before you but you were not aware that the boy was still hiding.

"You know, we should probably give him a name. Can't keep calling him 'the boy' now can we?" Alucard decided.

It made sense. He must have a name, after all.

"We should ask him if he can write his name down or something, although I don't know if he can even read and write."

Now Alucard hummed, "Well, I better go find him first. Hector seemed to be headed for the kitchen."

Just like that, he was gone. You had no doubt that he'd find the boy soon enough and so, you simply headed off to find Hector. He was, as Alucard had assumed, in the kitchen.

"Preparing dinner already?" You asked.

Hector looked to you for a moment before going back to cutting the vegetables, "Yes. I know Alucard always cooks but I thought we should do something for him today. He's been nothing but kind to us since we got here, even if he was a little hostile at first, and he's clearly going through a lot."

You walked over, wrapping your arms around Hector's stomach as he continued to chop away, "I know you haven't known him for long and well, neither have I really, but I'm glad you seem to be getting along."

"He is... difficult, but he only has the good things about his father in him. I also feel some form of sympathy with him. I can see it in his eyes y/n, he went through something at least somewhat similar to me." His voice quietened slightly as he pushed the knife rather harshly though the last carrot before chucking the sliced pieces into the pot.

You thought it over and you didn't doubt what Hector was saying. Sometimes you just knew. What neither of you knew was exactly what had happened to him although you supposed it was a betrayal from the way he is still yet to trust you both.

"I can't find the boy."

You let go of Hector as both of you turned, half wondering how long he had been stood there but more concerned with the way he seemed out of breath.

"What do you mean you can't find him?" You asked in alarm.

"I mean I can't find him. I've searched every length of the castle, he is nowhere."

You looked from Alucard to Hector, both of whom had faces of worry.

"Get me something of his. Now."

Chapters: 01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08, 09,

[blackevermore]

x Secrets of The Lake: The Company of Misery and Pain

{ Chapter 4: Slight Nsfw }

Summary: Vladimir Masters’ family tree has always been tainted by secrets swept under the rug. From generation to generation there have been countless reasons the Masters’ family had seemed to keep private from the public. Even to this day, Vladimir was no exception. But what was one to do when a restless spirit from the settlement years finally breaks free from restraints and demands you answer for your ancestor’s crimes? Vladimir doesn’t know. However, Clockworks does.

Notes: We just having fun, rewriting some of the canon, new adventure new characters. I will apologize now for any grammar, spelling, weird sentence structuring in advance. My brain writes faster than my fingers and even when I go back through to reread it I still miss things. Sorry about that!

Word Count: 3730

P.s: the nsfw is only in the beginning but it ends in stabbing like nothing graphic. Also would anyone like to be tagged when i update?

He doesn’t remember how he got here, or even where here was but it was familiar and felt like home. It was warm by the fire that lit up the room in feverish reds and oranges. He could feel his body gaining back its energy and his core being restored the longer the warmth surrounded him. In the comfortable bliss, he didn’t notice the pair of arms snaking across his torso until they were wrapped around his neck. His eyes shot open but he was quickly buried in the shallow of someone’s neck in a strong embrace. That’s when he felt the pressure of a body on top of his pushing down. He hadn’t registered the rocking motion against his hips until he heard the broken moan in his ear. Who? It was like a siren's call that made him clasp his hands on the body atop of him. He doesn’t remember how any of this started nor did he care to stop it. The pleasure he felt was intoxicating and drowned out all of his logical senses telling him to stop. He clung to her breathlessly as he felt his chest start to burn, he was now chasing this ghostly high throughout his entire body. 

“Vlad…” The voice called his name in desperation, begging him to continue and singing for all those to hear. Her voice was all he ever wanted to hear, yet he had never heard her like this at all. What? Nails dug into his shoulders and down his back leaving trails of red tracks and intricate designs. It stung like lashes but it fueled him even more as he shifted to bite her neck. Her cry sounded more surprised than pleasurable which worried him for some reason. Before he could pull away to ask if she was alright she pulled him in again and slammed down at just the right angle to distract him once more. 

“Fu-fiddlesticks,” He caught himself saying and pulled her down against him as close as possible. He hadn’t felt this in god knows how long and he refused to allow it to fade away. Once again her nails found his back and circled around his left shoulder blade. It tickled a bit and he chuckled into her, daring to take another bite of her lovely dark skin. 

Vlad had very much given in to this fantasy of whoever he had with him. Surely, there was no harm in enjoying a fit of passion in comfortable privacy. The hands around his neck now played in his hair combing out soft tangles. But when their hand pulled back with a few loose strands he peeked and saw how dark they were. ‘My hair hasn't been that way since-’ his thoughts were cut short as he felt the jerking motion of his body as the hilt of a blade buried itself inside him. Then followed a burning, searing heat pooling and dripping down before pain came from just under his left shoulder.

Vlad shot up from the bed choking back a scream of utter pain as his back still felt attacked. He was sweating and panting as he stumbled to get out of the bed and head towards the adjacent bathroom. He made it to the mirror and looked himself over. He looked exhausted, his long silver hair was a mess as it hung into what was left of his ponytail and his eyes were lifeless. What left him speechless was a small patch of hair towards the right that had now turned jet black. He fumbled with the strands mesmerized and very confused. He hadn’t seen the darkness of his hair in almost 24 years, yet here it was. Vlad’s head began to hurt as everything that had happened flashed across his mind. He was nearly torn apart and crumbled down to nothing, Vlad knew what it was like to be badly beaten but never to the brink of existence. He gripped onto the sink to steady himself when he felt the sudden weakness in his legs. 

He knew he passed out which meant Danny was the one to drag him all the way back home. Vlad felt embarrassed having to think about the young hero having to do so. After a moment of finding the strength to stand on his own again, Vlad pushed off the sink and headed towards the door of the room. He much preferred to be in the comforts of his own bedroom than the guest room. At this moment, Vlad cursed himself for being a rich bastard, the halls seemed to almost go on for miles. He had thought about trying to turn into Plasmius to hurry the journey along but he knew his powers were still in recovery. He was stuck in his normal human form until otherwise. When he finally made it to his room he heard talking coming a few doors down where Danielle’s room was. Who in the world was in his house? That’s when it hit him he was supposed to pick up Dani from Danny’s. Had Danny brought her home? Vlad slowly made his way towards the door and slowly pushed it open. Expecting Dani to be on her bed doing whatever she liked doing. Vlad found Danny instead looking out her window on the phone.

“Yeah no, Dani has to stay with me until all this is dealt with, not that she minds it. But Vlad still hasn’t woken up and it’s been three days and when he does I don’t think he’s going to be in the best of moods.” Three days? He had been unconscious for three days? Vlad swore it felt like a couple of hours from the time he fainted to now. He gripped his head when it started to pound again. Danny's ghost sense flew from his mouth and he turned around. “Hey, I gotta go, yeah he just woke up and the last thing I need is him dying on the floor. Talk to you later guys.” Danny hung up the phone and crossed his arms.

He gave Vlad a weak smile, “Welcome back to the land of the living, feel like shit?”

“Language,” was all Vlad could retort with before he pulled back out of the room and headed towards his. Danny followed but had never actually been in Vlad’s bedroom before. He felt like he was invading privacy but if this was where they were going to talk, fine by him. Danny should have known it would be a mini apartment but he wasn’t expecting the gothic-like interior. Sam would feel like the dark goddess she was in this room and it made him snicker. Vlad sat in an armchair in front of an unlit fireplace and slumped down to get more comfortable. Danny frowned, sympathetic to the situation, he had been there before, he took the chair next to Vlad and waited for the other to speak first.

“Where do we even begin?” Vlad grumbled before dragging a hand down his face.

“Maybe with what Clockwork told you,” Danny answered. Vlad only nodded and forced himself to sit up straight and take a more proper position before he told Danny everything. Danny really wanted to crack a joke, tell Vlad that’s what he gets for all the years going after his mom, mock him for breaking a heart he knew nothing about, however, Danny kept silent and only nodded along. Vlad took long pauses between his explanations and side rambles when he felt himself getting worked up. It was just a lot to take in.

“So… do’ya know which ancestor she might be linked to?” Danny could see it on Vlad’s face the man was just as clueless as he was back at the lake.

“No idea, like I told you my family stayed in Europe the whole time then settled in Russia. I'm a second generation American, there would be no point in my family owning a servant of African descent in the German empire then losing everything and going to Russia. None of this makes sense.” Vlad’s brows knitted together and he mumbled a few curses under his breath.

“Maybe there was an ancestor that came overseas during the Mayflower or whatever and they never went back. So like now you have this distant relative that your family never kept up with and they did something bad and BAM angry ghost.” Danny could admit he was a bit dramatic with his explanation, the hands in the air waving back and forth near the end was a bit much. But he had a point, a strong point, those that went overseas tended to be forgotten by the main family if the root of the tree stayed put. Vlad had many cousins he knew nothing about simply because they lived in other European countries. This didn’t feel like a distant cousin ancestor problem though, Vlad could feel that it was heavily tied to his main bloodline.

“I would agree with you, Daniel, but something tells me this is more within my family than some twice removed cousin.” Vlad looked up at the boy weakly. Danny huffed and nodded before propping his chin upon his hand. “I have access to my complete family records,” Vlad began again which made Danny perk up a bit. “I could try to trace back and see if anyone had travelled over during that time and had maybe gone back. I heavily doubt it but right now that’s all we have.”

“Better than nothing.” Danny tried to sound optimistic but he knew it failed. Vlad only nodded in agreement before staring off into the distance once again thinking. His thoughts were clouded between checking his family records but also the dream he had earlier. Danny felt the room become uncomfortably silent and knew it was time to leave Vlad alone.

As Danny got to his feet he scratched the back of his head and asked, “So do you need anything? I’ve kinda been babysitting you while you've been out, but don’t expect me to wear some butler outfit.” Vlad lightly chuckled and it made Danny feel a bit better.

“You can’t even tie a tie without throwing a fit, but anyways no I’m fine, you may go, Daniel.”

“M’kay. Let me know what you find.” Danny turned ghost and shot through the floor to get to Vlad’s portal so he could get back home. Vlad watched him leave then sighed before snapping his fingers for a ghost maid to appear. 

“Yes, Master?”

“Something heavy, no ice.” Vlad gave his order and the maid was fading away to retrieve it. A drink, a drink was what he needed even if his body was still in recovery.

[hobbitsnapes]

The Red Hoods Protègè chapter 15

Older Damian Wayne x ofc

(Photo made by my lovely friend @tyuuniverse)

Summary:Red hood has taken a young vigilante under his wing and subsequently changes Damians life forever. (I suck at summary’s)

Everyone waits each day for things to change. Waiting for her to come out of her room. But it’s as if she wasn’t there, in that lone room.

Everyday, they all walk by her door expecting to see her. Some are curious, some are honestly excited, and one, dreads it.

Damian knows eventually he’ll see her. Coming out of his room to meet her eyes, following a pain resonating through him. He knows that he’ll have to grow used to it. But that doesn’t change the tinge of pain each time he walks by the old oak door. But what he doesn’t know, is the hell behind that door that she’s consumed by each time she hears him.

It’s as if she’s trapped me a bubble of thick air that won’t go away. Each time she opens her eyes, she’s reminded he’s there. Each minute of the day that she’s conscious she battles with herself. It’s like she wants to think about him, to feel the sharp pain in her heart as tears fall down her cheeks. But she fights with herself to stop thinking about it. Sometimes she succeeds. Drowning herself a short film on her phone, but never completing them cause as soon as she raises her eyes, she’s met with her reality of where she is. Or she’s brought back when the footsteps outside her room.

In the last week, she’s been able to track and remember the footsteps of each of the people in the home. The man she’s come to find out as Dick, has fast but light footsteps.

The man known as Tim is near silent. But the small bits she can hear, he’s slightly slower than the previous.

Alfred almost has a skip to his walking. Each day the sweet man will lay a tray of food at her door. Picking it up later that same night.

Bruce’s steps are the louder of them all. Clearly hearing the heal to toe each step he takes.

Damians was the easiest but the hardest to hear. Having a mix of the clear steps of his father, but still being light like Dicks. His are slightly slower, and a hair faster when he passes by her door.

Her heart sank each time she heard it. Knowing he was walking away like that because of her. It broke her heart further knowing that the man she had fallen for, the man who made her feel like her past wasn’t her, that the way he looked at her like stars shown up her spine into tendrils from her skin, looked at her like she was painted red. Her heart once warmed through her chest out of her skin, now felt cold and strained each time she remembered him.

Their lips move in a soft harmony together. Lips barley grazing as they lay there in one another’s arms. The pads of her fingers gently run across his face. His fingers running up and down the bottom of her back. A shiver runs up her from the soft contact. Their breaths meld together, noses touching as just the very touch of their lips stay together. A soft smile graces his face, his hand traveling to the side of her face where her hair lay. Shielding her eye from him. Her eyes had slightly shut, a hazy look to them with her pupils slightly dilated. His fingers run along her temple, down to her cheek, and ending at her lips. He lightly runs his fingers across them. The action causing a soft smile and an equally soft laugh. He looks into her eyes again, the same haze to them as before. “You are so beautiful.” He whispered, her flush blooming even harder. A grin formed on his face at her. Grazing his fingers against her cheek. “You’re even more stunning than the Middlemist's Red camellia.” She let out a soft chuckle, “what’s that?” She questions him. “It’s the rarest flower in the world. Only two plants have survived. One in New Zealand, the other in the United Kingdom. Ironically it’s blue in color. But even then, it can’t compete with your eyes and beauty. There’s so many different kinds of roses, while they’re beautiful, there’s so many of them. Not only are you the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen, you have the purest heart I’ve ever come across.” Her eyes shined with unshed tears, brushing his fingers over her eyes. “You don’t know that, I’m not as amazing as you think I am.” She whispered. “No matter what you think, I’ll always believe you are.” He said, kissing her lips again.

Tears streamed down her face at the look of pure hatred covering his face when he saw her standing there. “And I could never be with someone who does the things you do. You’re a monster. All that happened to you, was your fault. Your parents dying, you could have stopped it. You sat and watched as your mother and father were beaten, bloodied and stabbed to death. If it wasn’t for you being born they could have left the city. They would be alive. Ally, if it wasn’t for you finding her and taking her in, trying to fix the wrongs you’ve done, she could have ran away from here and away from her father who probably went and killed her. Another life, lost to be forgotten, all because of you. You’re nothing but a bad omen. I mean just look around sandy.” Damian gestures. Her once homey apartment burning around them with the movement of his hand. Her heart screaming out of her chest in throbbing pain. “Take a look at what you did.” He says as he steps to the side. A scream of agony rips out of her chest at what she sees lying on the floor. There on the floor, is a bloody, chopped up jason. Stab wounds cover his body. Blood seeping from each cut that pool on and around him. Bones are exposed, muscle torn to shreds. But the most haunting of it all, is his bloody cut up face. Stab wounds in his cheeks,nose slashed open, his mouth torn. But the worst are his eyes. Once an icy blue, now clouded over and milky. A stark contrast to the streams of blood covering his face. His eyes boring into hers. A scream rips from him. Blood spewing out of his mouth. “YOU DID THIS TO MEE!” He screams out. Blood choking him and pouring out of his mouth. He then falls limp to the ground. His eyes still looking at her, lifeless. A tall figure comes out from nowhere. A scream ripping from her when she sees him. “Ah such a good job! You did good, we did good! I mean just look at the boy! Even I wasn’t able to do that to him! And after everything I did to him, I knew it would be you to finish my job.” Joker says, his face scared and almost cracked looking. She looks down at herself. Seeing a bloody knife clutched in her hand, her once white nightgown soaked in blood. “GET AWAY FROM ME! YOU SICK FUCK I SHOULDVE KILLED YOU!” She screams out. “Ah but you didn’t my dear. That night I chopped your lovely mother up and beat your father to death, you could have picked up a knife and killed me then. But you didn’t. Now, I’m gonna keep going, keep on killing families, haunting you because you did nothing. It’s because of you, we can keep doing it.” “W-we?” She shudders, tears falling down her face. “Yes, we.” Damian says, walking over to joker. Joker putting his hand on damians shoulder. A scream ripping from her at the pointed, crooked smile on his face.

A choked up gasp leaves her as she shots up out of bed. Panic filling her before she feels the soft sheets surrounding her. Relief filling her, that is until a searing pain in her back takes over. A loud groan leaving her.

Walking slowly over to the bathroom being near impossible due to the excruciating pain in her back. The pain worse than when she was carved. It feels like something was ripping from the inside out of her skin.

She takes her nightgown off, a yell leaving her due to the pain getting worse.

She looks in the mirror in the bathroom, a scream ripping from her. Her once healed scars were ripped open, shoulder blades exposed completely from both flesh and muscle chunks being ripped out. Black feathers poking out of them, ripping out from her, screams of pure agony ripping from her as the feathers rip through like barbed wire. Breaking through her bones and skin. A final scream ripping from her, before everything around her going black.

Screams ripped from her throat as she shoots up out of the bed. Tears streaming down her face as she sobs. Her heart pounding out of her chest as she yells out sobs. Her breathing coming out in heaves. Her eyes shutting tightly, although it did little to nothing to stop the images of Jason lying there in a bloody heap. The image of Damian and Joker flashing to her as sobs wreck her body.

Dicks breath and heart pounding as he sprints to her door. He heard her screams of pure agony all the way downstairs, knowing exactly what’s going on. He knew they would eventually come, memories of him waking up in a sweat screaming till his vocal cords gave up as his screams turned into silent tears. He has yet to speak to her, feeling terrible due to her being his niece.

His hands knocking on the old oak door. Hearing her sobs from the other side breaking his heart. He can hear the large ragged breaths she’s taking in between her wails. Tears collect in his eyes. He tries for the handle, grunting due to the lock. He knows he can bust the door down easily, but not wanting to further her panic. “Hey, can you please let me in? It’s me dick.” He says, trying to steady his breaths. He hears nothing after this. “Look,I know you don’t know me. But please, I-I wanna try to help. I remember when your father was first living here.i can still hear his screams from nightmares even today. Please, we all have them.” Again, nothing. He sighs, knowing she won’t budge. “Alright, I’m not gonna force you. I’ll be staying in the room right next to yours if you need anything.” He says, walking to the door, hearing her faint sobs.

Damian's eyes shooting open when he hears it, he hears her scream out. A pain lodging into his chest at the sound. His throat growing tight when he hears her sobs. He can hear the gagged and rough intake of air from his room.

His footsteps are heavy as he heads into his bathroom. He feels like he’s going to be sick from the pain in his chest creeping out from him. Her sobs echoing in his head even with his door shut. He grips onto the porcelain sink, head ducking down as his eyes sting. Why, why is this happening. He wonders, not understanding why hearing her cry is bothering him so greatly.

For the past week she’s been here, once hurting at the mere thought of her, now anger. Why can jason just dump her here, and everyone just going along with it. They would argue that’s his daughter. But he’s no father. They don’t have a father daughter relationship. His father is a better parent than he is. And him and his father’s relationship is strained at best. From what he was told, Jason would go on and on about how he hated that Bruce adopted him. Yet he goes out and takes her in? And turns her into a killing machine who doesn’t know when to shut up. But his heart still pains him when he remembers. The touch of her lips against his, the warmth of her hold. The soft smell of vanilla each time he’d hug or be close to her. Her eyes sparkling whenever she’d beam up at him with the look of pure astonishment and joy. Her soft chuckle and rider cheeks gave him a warm bubble in his chest. He can’t keep thinking about it, pain filling him the more his mind wanders. God, why did she have to be this. And why does it hurt so badly. His grip growing so tightly, that it finally cracks under his touch. Breaking him from his mind when the large groan and crack emit from the sink. He abruptly lets go of it. A tear collecting at the corner of his eye when he lets out a shaky breath. His heart hurting just as bad as when he first heard her screaming out.

Days go by, and each one feeling better. She’s not as panicked and hurt whenever she looks around. She finally looked around the large room. She put all her clothes in the large closet, barley filling it due to the sheer size of it. She put her books away in the large bookshelf beside her bed. She hung her photos on the wall, put her shampoos and washes in the bathroom. Finally turning the room into her own. She knew she’d be here a while, so she thought she might as well make her room feel like home, and not just a cell.

Out of the entire room, her favorite part was the large bay window that opened up into a balcony. The sun shines beautifully through the soft blinds, a welcoming warmth from the sun would instantly put a smile to her face whenever she’d step out of her room. She put a chair out there, sitting there each day no matter how cold to gaze out with a new book.

Alfred would bring her meals to her door each day, and for the last few days she’d let him come in, chatting a small amount. It was warm and welcoming to be able to talk with one person here. And each day he’d ask if she would come with him to the garden. Telling her it’s his favorite part of the entire manor. But each time she’d tell him she would eventually. Still worrying about coming out. She wasn’t as scared to see Damian. While it’s a big part, it’s not the entire reason for her staying in her room. It was the fear of properly meeting everyone. Jason didn’t divulge everything that happened to him, but he said enough to make her weary of the others that lived and came by. Preferring to stay in her room, away from the new place she’d have to consider home. That is, until one Friday night.

Her stomach rumbles as she laid in bed. She was trying to concentrate on a book, but the pain in her stomach grew the longer she tried ignoring it. She had some soup and a sandwich earlier in the evening, but for some reason she had grown hungry in the last hour. She knew exactly why she was feeling hungry.

Alfred has asked her early that morning if she’d like anything from the shops. Telling her he has a list ready and wanted to know if she’d like anything. She told him her favorite food was yogurt. He asked her what kind and she replied with anything. She didn’t care about the brand, flavor or texture. Loving each and every kind since she was little. It brought back fond memories of when her mother would make homemade yogurt with milk and berries. She remembers helping her mother as a child make it, and turning it into anything from just plain to baked goods that the family would eat for dessert.

When he had gotten back, he informed her he had bought a different flavor from each brand, and one he went to a bakery and got freshly made yogurt. Her stomach rumbling just thinking about it.

She looked at the clock, seeing the flashing 3:36 light up. She knew that everyone had gone to bed. Having heard them walking to their rooms and being in there for some time.

She was still nervous, having not gone through the manor at all this entire time. She had just about zoned out completely when she was brought from the cave to her room. But Alfred has told her that her room is the closest to the hallway to the living room and kitchen. Saying the kitchen was on the left and the living room was further down to the right.

She hesitated going, fear bubbling up her throat as she looked at the door. But a large grumble from her stomach made her decision for her.

She stepped into the kitchen, with only her phone light to light her way. It took her much longer than she’d like to admit to find the room. She found the large fridge, opening it and squinting due to the bright light. Opening her eyes, and instantly seeing the tub of yogurt. A chuckle leaving her when she sees the writing on it. There was a piece of paper taped to it, and in the neatest handwriting it said ‘Miss Todd’s yogurt.’

She scooped some out into a cup. Looking around and seeing the large island in the middle of the room. ‘Eh, fuck it nobody’s up.’ She thought. Hopping up onto it. She decided to keep the light off. Not wanting to wake anyone. Not knowing the person right in the next room coming in for his next coffee.

She heard him before she saw him. Pain is filling her as he hears the footsteps. Grabbing a knife that is bolted to her thigh, reading to throw it once they enter.

Tim feels a presence in the room when he walks to the door, thinking it’s the lack of sleep, he thinks nothing of it as he clicks the light on. A shrek leaving him when a knife is thrown at him, hitting the wall right beside his head. Nearly cutting his long hair. “HEAVEN ALMIGHTY WHAT THE FUCK!” He yells out. Clutching his chest as he watches her. She’s as ridged as a spooked out cat. He ducks down when she grabs a fork, aiming it high at him. “Nonono I’m not here to hurt you! God I just want some coffee.” He says. Her hands lowered down. “Sorry, you kinda scared me.” She says. “Oh and the knife nearly clearing through my head didn’t scare me at all.” He chuckles. A laugh coming out from her at this. “You’re just lucky I didn’t hit you.” She laughs. “Yeah, if that’s your aim in pitch black, fuck I’d hate to piss you off.” He says. A chuckle leaving him at the end. She pops a spoonful of yogurt into her mouth. Nodding her head at him. “Yeah, just ask your brother.” This causing a large laugh to rumble out of his chest. “Yeah, he pisses everyone off. It’s why we’ve called him the demon for years.” A large laugh erupting from her at his response. Tears collecting in her eyes. Both laughing for a good minute. “So, can’t sleep I see?” He asks. “Yeah, you?” He nods at her. “So, want some pancakes?” He asks. Her head piping up at this. “Can you make it with yogurt?” “Oh yes I can.”

They both sit on the island side by side, munching on their pancakes. “You gonna try to sleep, or say fuck it?” Tim asks. “Fuck it.” She replies. “Well I’ve got stuff to do..eh screw it, wanna go watch funny vines and tiktoks?” Her head shoots you at this. A wide smile covers her face. Nodding up at him.

Damian hears laughter when he walks down the hallway. Hearing a song playing that makes it difficult to hear. Until he hears her. His chest tightening.

He looks in, and to his shock, and a bit of horror, he sees her and Tim on the couch laughing so hard they’re falling over. Both doing a horrible job at singing in between laughter. “Aye Somebody come get er she’s dancing like a striper! Somebody come get er she’s dancing like a stripper!” They sing. Laughing profusely as they watch one another. Tim gets up from the couch, waving his arms around. “A potato flew around my room before you came!” He sings. Casing her to dibble over again laughing “He needs some milk!” She laughs out. Both dubbing over clutching their stomachs. Anger filling his chest as he watches him make her laugh. Remembering when he could get her to laugh so hard she’d wheeze out. He leaves without saying a word. Clutching his fists tightly and jaw set. His chest growing in pain making his anger worse. Why, why does this keep happening.

Tags: @comic-nerd-dc @comic-brew @psychovigilantewrites @psych0crybaby

[caffeinetheory]

Heartfelt [Maribat Monday]

So the original idea wasn’t quite working so have this instead. I might go back to it but have some Raven/Mari instead @maribat-mondays

I wrote way more than I meant to but interspersion hit at like 11:30 last night when I was trying to sleep and I just finished

///

Raven was wary when Robin brought a new hero into their ranks. She is, or was it wasn’t quite clear, the last Ladybug from Paris. She now goes by Marigold, but Mari was fine. She was nice, maybe to nice. Terra made Raven even more hesitant than before, but the rest seemed to trust her. 

Mari was a good fighter, but she was an even better in the kitchen. Almost every morning she was up before even Robin and making something that smelled divine. It took less than a week for the new girl to learn everyone’s favorite and what their usual diet was. She spent extra time to make sure it was perfect for everyone. After awhile Raven and the team got used to breakfast ready for them. Waffles and herbal tea for Raven herself, how Mari always found the perfect blend for how she was feeling that day she wasn’t sure.

~~~

After about a month with Mari now in the tower, the girl was still really reserved but more than happy to have a conversation. Gifts had also started to appear where everyone would find them. It was always something they had mentioned in passing. Robin had gotten a new lock pick set to replace his old one he said was reaching its end, Starfire had somehow gotten some plants from her home, Best Boy and Cyborg had each gotten hew music players and Raven had found a the latest book by one of the authors she followed. No one was quite sure where they came from but they kept coming and they never had strings attached.

~~~

A week after Raven had gotten her book, she had just finished it, she went to the kitchen to get some water before she fell asleep. The light was already on and there was a faint humming, Raven’s guard was now up as she silently made her way into the room. It was Mari of all people up at nearly 2 in the morning. What in the world was she doing. The soft scent of green tea made its way to Raven’s nose, the girl seemed at ease, like she wasn’t holding back and just absorbing information. Raven just left not wanting to disturb the girl.

~~~

Two weeks after the kitchen incident there was a break in at the tower, the first to respond was surprisingly Mari. the others not far behind, Raven watched from the shadows with Robin. Maybe this was a test or something.

“Chaton I swear to Tikki! You can’t just do that,” Mari had a blonde boy in a leather looking catsuit in front of her looking sheepish. “But Mari Bug-” he didn’t even get to finish what he was saying when Mari with no effort dragged him cursing him out in rapid fire french. There was some joy in her tone, everyone else was just left looking at the door in shock. No one but Robin had seen her so assertive and in command of a situation before.

Twenty minutes later laughter was heard and the duo had come back in. “I’m so sorry for this alley cat,” the boy next to her made sound of disagreement, “Someone wanted to see me early.” Mari went about her normal routine while everyone just stared. “You might as well help me kitty, after all because of you I’m behind,” she nudged ‘her kitty’ and the two set to work making breakfast like she always did. 

Everyone eventually got back to their senses, this must have been her former partner. The kid joked easily and got along with Beast Boy pretty well. Mari set her plate next to Raven that morning, she didn’t say much to her but if felt different. The two watched ‘the dorks’ with smiles on their faces before Mari told Robin she’d be gone the rest of the day. She made sure to mention she’d be back for breakfast and “her idiot here won’t cause a problem like that again.”

~~~

The next morning Raven was the first awake out of the original 5. Waffles and fresh tea was waiting for her, but no sign that anyone was in the room. The note under the plate just told her to enjoy, she couldn’t help the small smile on her lips. 

~~~

Mari eventually reappeared later in the day with a ton of bags. Looks like he brought her shopping. “...You need help there?” Robin was the one to ask but Starfire was already by her side read to catch any fallen items. “I’m good thank you though,” no one could see her face but could hear the happiness in her voice. It took 3 more trips for her to bring everything in, she did the food shopping too. How she was able to carry so much they weren’t sure but sometimes you just don’t question it. 

~~~

Raven had left the tower one day to pick up some new books, when she came back there was a box of fresh macaroons, all different shades in the darker cool colors. The box itself was a see through black tied with a bow in the same color of her cloak. A small note in pretty cursive just listed flavors, all herbal teas she enjoyed. 

Breakfast the next morning was all about the different cookies everyone had gotten. It seemed like she got the most. For some reason that gave a smug feeling to Raven but the knowing smile that played on Mari made her heart beat a little faster. Maybe the two should spend some more real time together, some company would be nice.

~~~

It became normal to get some of the sweet treats in her room at least once a week. They always were there when it seemed she needed a pick me up.

~~~

Mari and Raven had started a routine of meditation and reading in the early morning than in the afternoon. Raven had started to help with breakfast despite Mari’s insistence, the shorter girls humming was reward enough. 

~~~

Raven wasn’t sure when she had gotten so used to the other girl's presence. That was until one afternoon and Mari wasn’t with for their normal reading time. Raven couldn’t figure out why it bothered her, nonetheless she went looking for her reading partner. 

Yelling could be heard from the living room, then a crash and a giggle Rave knew anywhere, when did that happen? Mari had just beaten Cyborg and Beast Boy in a fighting game, for what looked like the 100th time. Impressive. She didn’t even look like she had to try, “Don’t feel so bad guys,” the humor in her tone was adorable. 

Raven walked fully into the room now, “Oh, hey Rae,” Mari seemed to light up upon seeing her. Her face seemed to hold recognition and she looked at the clock, “OH no I’m so sorry, I lost track of time-” Rae just sat on the couch and cut her off by grabbing a controller from Beast Boy who was laying on the floor in defeat.

“Oh your on.”

~~~

Raven found a painted rock candy controller and a box of tea with a note on her bed a day later.  

‘We need to play again ;>’

~~~

“Rae, where are we going?” Mari had finally asked after Raven took her hand after breakfast. They had known each other for a while now, and Raven knew she could trust the Parisian. 

“You’ll see” Mari squeezed her hand as they walked the hallway, when they arrived in front of Raven’s door she squeezed it again, “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely”

~~~

The pair spent a lot of time in Raven’s room. Often it was meditation but today was different. It had been a few weeks since raven first brought her in on purpose and they were just relaxing in the purple and black room. 

“Hey, Rae?” the girl in question only made a sound of acknowledgement and continued to run a hand through the other girls hair. She was reading the latest book ‘that mysteriously appeared’. Mari paused what she was going to say, it had been too long since she felt comfortable with someone besides chat, who was basically a brother, this was different. Her head laded in Raven’s as she looked at the girl from under the book. She was stunning.

“I’ll be right back,” Mari slowly got out of the comfortable position she was in and hurried out of the room. Not two minutes later was she back with a sheepish smile. She seemed nervous, odd but Raven shrugged it off. “Sooo, I’m sure it’s obvious now but I’ve been leaving you some gifts here and there,” Rae nodded a smile graced her lips. It made Mari swoon a little, “Well, I wanted to give you this one personally…” she trailed off as she handed a well wrapped package to the girl in front of her.  

“You really didn’t have to-” Raven held the package like it was the most delicate thing she had ever held.“

“But I wanted to,” Mari’s soft encouraging smile was all it too get the Azarathian to gingerly opened it. A midnight purple, almost black, hoodie was in her hands. The embroidery was shiny black and was of countless ravens all over, a slight fade to white near the hands. It was the perfect thing, how long did the intricate patterns take?

Raven was speechless, gently she placed the garment on her bed so nothing would happen and scooped up the small girl. She couldn’t help herself and kissed Mari. Once releasing what she had done Raven pulled back in slight horror. “Oh, come back here Rae,” Mari pulled her kissing back now that she had the chance. It was soft and hesitant at first like neither girl could believe they were doing it but here they were in a room lit up by candles kissing like lost lovers. It felt right and that’s what matters. 

When they finally broke apart, it was slow. They looked into the other’s eyes, looking for something, regret maybe. But they didn’t find that, their hands had found their way to each other’s waist when they stayed until a knock on the door interrupted before they leaned in again. It was Robin, when the girls opened the door hands still together he held a knowing smirk and started telling them about what was happening. It was time to do their job, hand in hand.

///

I hope you all like it and it is longer than normal I know :> it’s time to work on my other stuff so I don’t get behind Timari week is next and I still need to finish the chapter for this week, sorry for the wait

[staruplatinum]

hello, I’ve been slow with these commissions and I’m terribly sorry! this is the first of 3 Ill be posting throughout the week. This commission is for the lovely  @calamityismyspecialty ! ♡

Bruno Bucciarati x f!prostitute reader ♡

word count | 3.8K words

warnings: angst, soft smut, creampie, graphic depictions of abuse, violence. 

quick summary: reader helps Bruno escape from a sticky situation, saving his life. he decides to return the favour.

                    You couldn’t say you enjoyed your job, but you couldn’t say that you necessarily liked it either. Being a prostitute in the mafia was no easy task. Often times you were abused, tricked and involved in other illegal practices, events and parties that you really had no interest in. However, as sad as it was, it was good money, and yet despite that - you really didn’t have a choice. Your family had owed a debt to Passione long ago, so now you were forever their property. 

Despite the dirty men you had to be sold to night after night, that wasn’t nearly as bad as being “eye candy” for some Mafioso while he conducted business meetings. You were always forced to sit on his lap, in revealing clothing, and only being told to speak when spoken to. It was like you were a shell. A nobody, used only for other men’s pleasure. It wasn’t uncommon that some of these men would even take turns on you after these meetings, reducing you to nothing more than a whore. Oh- and they didn’t pay you extra, either. That was how the mafia underworld was - unfair. 

One particular warm night in Naples, as you were getting ready for another client, you overheard something. 

“I am going to kill him!” 

One of the men in the other room shouted. Now, usually you minded your own business. After all, you were just a whore in their eyes - your opinion meant nothing. However, you couldn’t stop yourself from feeling concerned. Who did this man want to kill? Why? You could only hope that whenever this was to happen, that it wasn't going to happen while you were there. You had seen a lot in the Mafia, from drug-dealing, to flat out seeing men beaten. But murder? How could someone see that and be “okay”....

Nevertheless, you went about with your night. But the thought lingered. You looked at yourself in the vanity, admiring how well you applied your eyeliner and mascara and went on to finish the rest of your face. Before you knew it, you were all done up like a doll. For a moment, you almost felt proud of yourself and your looks. If you didn't know better, you’d surely be mistaken for a model. Too bad that wasn’t your life…

A sudden loud bang at the door knocked you out of thoughts, and you turned behind you to see a man in a dark suit staring at you angrily while adjusting the gun in his pocket. 

“Lets go puttana, you have work to do.” 

You turned your nose up and practically scowled at the thought of having sex with this man, but this was your job. Sighing, you turned off the vanity light and made your way to the door frame, where the man forced you to hold onto him as you walked downstairs. 

As you both entered the large meeting room, there were a bunch of  men you didn’t recognize. One in particular, who stood out to you was wearing a white suit with a tear-drop print on it and various gold zippers. He had the most odd hair (you couldn’t help but think!) and his eyes were as blue as the ocean. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive. Like always though, every man in the room had their eyes on you, mainly from lust. But the man in the white suit - you could already tell he was different, the way he looked at you wasn't from lust. It was more like curiosity and pity mixed into one.

Sitting down next to your ‘lover’ for the night (if you could even call him that) you found yourself sitting directly across from the man in the white suit, whom you later found out that his name was Bruno. Bruno Bucciarati. He was a poor boy who grew up in the suburbs of Naples with his father, who was a fisherman. Unfortunately, his father ended up dying from a drug-related incident. He was simply at the wrong place at the wrong time. Knowing this hurt your heart, it was such an awful way to be brought into this life. You truly felt bad for Bruno.

Like always, you sat next to your client and kept your mouth shut while they conducted business. The men talked over and over about various things going on in Passione, be it new missions, weapon trades, drugs, etc. You, however, had no idea that Bruno Bucciarati was against nearly all of these things and that is the reason why your client wanted to kill him. As the night proceeded on, things started to get more tense in the room you were in and you started to wonder if tonight was even going to end well for anybody. Almost every man in the room had a gun on him, and you started to worry. Soon, Bruno stood up asking to excuse himself. The others agreed, and as soon as he left the room you could hear everyone else talking about the easiest way to assassinate him without his team being involved. Oh no. Your heart began to race, and you sat up from your chair, asking for permission to use the washroom. 

Your client complied with your wishes, and you hurriedly got up to leave the cigarette-smoke filled room. It took you a moment, but once you were out of everyone’s sight you finally had a moment of peace in the hallway - and that’s when you saw Bruno. 

You tried to avoid eye contact, thinking it was awkward. Afterall, you really didn’t want him thinking that you were following him - even though you were. In reality it was all to help him in the end. You turned to look in one of the hallway mirrors, decorated with fake plants, as you pushed your hair behind your ear. You took a moment to breathe in before turning around to face him. 

Bruno stared at you for a moment, but his eyes never left your face. Unlike most men, he didn’t check out the tight black dress that fit all your curves perfectly and showed off your cleavage. Bruno wasn’t like that. 

“Hi…” You managed to say, voice hoarse.  It felt like it was the first time you had even spoken in the last few hours. 

Bruno smiled, reaching out his hand to shake yours. 

“Ciao” 

You smiled slightly, leaning against the hallway sideboard and shaking his hand. Though you wanted to talk with him more, this was no time for small talk. Yet you couldn’t stop the words leaving your mouth. 

“I um.. I like your suit!” you said happily. 

“Grazie, Bella. I like how well done your hair is. Did you do it yourself?” Bruno asked.

Again, you were shocked by him. You were sure he wanted to compliment your dress, but it was awfully nice of him to compliment something else.

“Yeah.. I um.. Always do my makeup and hair.”  a pink blush began to form on your face, ad Bruno leaned closer to you, admiring your features. If anyone else came in, they’d think it was a scene straight from a movie. The way you two looked at eachother was no different than a couple who was in love.  As much as you wanted to lean closer, and perhaps kiss him, a sudden loud bang made you both jolt. 

“That was a gunshot….” you mumbled, looking up at Bruno in fear. “You.. You have to leave here. It isn’t safe.”you added.

Bruno cocked an eyebrow and let a faint chuckle escape his lips. 

“Why do you say that, Bella?” 

He was in the mafia since he was 13, hearing a gunshot was no surprise to him, yet he suddenly felt worried too, mainly for you. 

“I think the men in the other room may be plotting to kill you...” You said sternly.

Bruno was taken aback by your words. How did a girl like you even know this stuff? Were you lying? Were you being sincere? He was very good at finding a liar in a crowd, unfortunately his method for testing lies wouldn't be in his favor, seeing that you were taken by another man. He had no idea, however, that your situation was exactly the opposite.

“I suppose that’s a pretty good reason to leave then. But how can I trust you?” Bruno asked you, looking around the hallway you were in. “I’ve been in the mafia for a long time, men carry around guns all the time to assert dominance and show off. I even have one.” He added, pointing to the bulge at the side of his pants. 

“I’ve worked here for 5 years now, Signore” You said, firm with your word. “I’ve seen many meetings like this end bad. You don’t have to trust me, but please. I overheard them discussing it earlier…” 

You were practically pleading with Bruno at this point, tears welling up in your eyes.

Bruno grabbed both of your arms gently, pulling you closer to him. He studied you face, and something inside him told him that you were being genuine. There were many possible ways he could get out, and especially with his stand ability (that you knew nothing about!) he could easily get out of a sticky situation like this. Besides, if you did lead him to danger at least he knew in the end that you were in fact a liar, and not worth his time.

“Alright then, Bella. How do I get out of here?” He asked, gently caressing your bicep with his thumb. 

You swallowed heavily,  pointing behind him. 

Regretably, it was near the garbage bins but it was better than having his life lost over some stupid disagreement. “Right through there”

As Bruno nodded and let go of you, the two of you walked towards the exit you pointed to. As if on queue, from the end of the hall you heard another gunshot, and the sound of heavy chairs scraping the marble floor. The sound of mens deep voices started to fill up your senses and you knew that the meeting was “over”. They’d be coming to get Bruno any second now.

“You have to go now, I’ll distract them! Go!” you whispered.

Bruno smiled at you and grabbed onto your hand. “Wait!” he shouted. “I never got your name?”

“It’s Y/N.” 

Bruno thanked you for saving his life. He had asked you for one last thing, which was your phone number. If he were anyone else, you would have said no. But something about Bruno made you want to see him again, and so, impulsively, you wrote your number down on his hand before shoving him out of the door. 

Just as you did that, the men you were with caught up to you. You fixed your dress, pressing down any seams and pretending to fix your hair as they made their way to where you were. They were quite stupid, and luckily they didn’t even suspect that you were helping Bruno. To them, they thought that you had just went to the washroom like you had asked. If they knew the truth, you would have surely been beaten, or worse. Exactly as you suspected, as soon as you returned to your seat you could hear the men arguing over how Bruno escaped. The tension in the room was high, and you wanted to leave. But you couldn’t. After all, you were still sold to this man for tonight, and you had to follow through with your promise…

The thought of Bruno calling you was the only thing that kept you going. He was your only hope.

__________

              Two weeks had passed since you last saw Bruno, and only a week prior to that did the men realize you had been the reason for his escape. Security cameras could be a bitch… and you paid greatly for that mistake. Your black eye and bruised arms showed for it. Still, there was no word from Bruno. 

You sighed heavily as you stared outside your bedroom window, a single tear rolling down your face. Today was Sunday, the only day you ever had to yourself from this wretched business, and as you watched the people walking amongst the streets of Naples, you felt so lonely inside. If only your life was different. You could have been married; possibly to someone like Bruno! If only.. 

From your apartment door, you heard a knock. “One minute.” you sighed as you slid on your housecoat and slippers and walked to the door. You made sure to keep the chain-lock on, since lately men were forcefully bringing themselves to your apartment. They had to make sure you were going to “pay” for letting Bruno escape. As you pulled the door open, you hid your left eye behind the door, not wanting anyone to see. You were shocked to see that the man at the door was Bruno. 

“Ciao, Y/n. May I come in?” Bruno asked, a genuine smile on his face. 

You wanted to tell him it wasn’t safe, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to let him go again. Nodding, you undid the chain-lock and let him inside, keeping your head down in shame.

As Bruno entered your apartment, He could see how clean it was, yet despite that, the place was really run-down. His heart hurt seeing this. He turned to you, and gently lifted your chin up so that your eyes met with his. 

He gasped.

“y/n! What happened? Who did this to you?!” He practically shouted. You had no idea, but in those two weeks Bruno was ‘gone’, he had done research on you. He knew exactly why you were a prostitute, that it wasn’t your choice, and he knew all about your debt to Passione. He knew about the men you were with and how awful they treated prostitutes, as well as how badly you had to pay for saving him. Needless to say, he was furious. 

“It’s nothing, I just-” You were cut off by Bruno silencing you. 

Bruno’s soft hand groped the left side of your cheek, his thumb gently caressing the dark purple spot that formed under your eye. You weren’t used to such sweet affection. In fact, you couldn’t even remember the last time anyone treated you this nicely. You allowed yourself to relax, and you leaned into his touch - using your hand to caress his forearm.

Bruno looked down at you, smiling. 

“Let me take care of you, Bella.”

Those words were all you needed to hear. It was almost as if Bruno saying this was enough to fix all your problems. Though it wasn't true, it was still nice to believe so..

Bruno leaned down and kissed your lips passionately. He didn’t waste any time in asserting his dominance by running his tongue along your teeth ; asking for entrance and engulfing your mouth in a warm, erotic kiss. You gladly complied, letting him take control. The two of you made out passionately for several minutes until you felt his hard cock straining against his suit pants. You smirked a little, realizing where this whole situation was headed and you gently pushed him off of you. 

“Bed..?” you asked curiously. 

Bruno just nodded, and before you could even take a step further, he picked you up bridal style and brought you over to your bed, laying you down gently. 

You sat up, removing your slippers and housecoat - leaving you only in your gown - and you slid down the sheets, onto your knees.

“What are you doing?” Bruno asked, as he removed his suit top , tossing it to the side.

“I- um… about to suck your dick?” you replied, not sure if you should state it as a fact or a question. 

“No” Bruno said. “You have been treated like shit for the past 5 years of your life, all because of a stupid debt. It’s not fair that this has to happen to you. Please, let me take care of you, and you’ll be free from this place.” 

Hearing his words nearly made you cry - but now wasn’t the time. Both of you wanted to have sex with each other, and that is how your night should go. Pillow talk can come later. Little did you know, that Bruno had already arranged for his gang to wait outside so that they could all rescue you. You see, the men you worked for were ranked lower than Bruno’s position in the mafia. And even though they wanted to kill him, It would be quite a hard feat considering they’d have to get through multiple stands to lay a finger on Bruno, or you.

Bruno undid his belt and pulled his trousers down, revealing his hard cock in his pants. He pushed you on your back onto the bed gently and pulled down your white-lace panties. You tried your best to relax, seeing that this hasn’t happened to you for years. 

He leaned down, cupping your thighs and leaving light kisses up them as he pulled your core to his face - finally pressing his lips to your wet folds. He began to lick slowly and kiss you - almost in a teasing way! You were sure that just from his light treatment, that you’d cum instantly. But Bruno didn’t want the fun to be over just yet. 

Bruno continued his actions, licking between your folds, sucking your clit and swirling his tongue around, while adding two fingers inside of your core. His fingers curled upwards and he pressed against you g-spot over and over as he ate you out. 

You let out a soft moan, gently pulling on his hair. 

“OH! Bruno…” 

You bit your lip as you felt heat pool in your core, and before you know it you were arching your back in pleasure. Your eyes saw white as your thighs trembled, trying to ride out every last second of your orgasm. Boy, was Bruno good with his tongue.

When he finally pulled away, he licked your juices off of his fingers, smiling as he did so. “Just as I thought, you aren’t a liar after all.” he chuckled. You, however, were still too caught up in your post-orgasm to even acknowledge what he had said.

Bruno laid on top of you, kissing you slowly again. His hand traveled from your sides, down to you legs, where he gently spread them for him. You didn’t even realize he had taken off his underwear. When did that happen? Was he so good that you lost track of time? You looked into his beautiful-blue eyes, filled with lust and admiration, you grabbed his cock, lining it up with your entrance as he slid into you. 

His brows furrowed at you hot tightness. He was big, bigger than most men you had slept with, but the stretch felt nice. It was like he fit you perfectly. He began to thrust slowly before increasing his pace. As nice as he was being, he was still a man and the only way to chase his release was to fuck you fast, which he did. At least he was fucking you in a more intimate position! Most men just took you from behind, forcing your face into the bed sheets. 

Bruno slid his hand up to your breast, gently cupping it before taking it into his mouth and sucking on your hardened nipple. The way his cock was hitting your walls was making you moan in pleasure, you couldn’t believe how good it felt. 

“Bella, you feel so good. So hot and tight for me” He moaned out, holding your hip as he thrust into you again. He bit his lip as he watched your breasts bounce in unison with his thrusts, and the slight bulge that purged at your naval region, showing just how deep he was going. You could feel him hitting your cervix. 

Bruno fixed his position and kissed you passionately once again. Only pulling away to compliment you once more.

“It’s like your pussy was made for me and only me, cara” he hissed through clenched teeth as he fucked you faster and harder. You could only moan in response. 

Bruno angled his thrusts just right, hitting that special spot inside of you that made you see stars.

“I-Im gonna, cum!” You shouted, scraping your nails gently down his back. Bruno smirked. 

“Already? Is my cock that good that you’re already going to cum?” 

You nodded in response. 

“Yes it feels so good!! I have never been fucked like this before..” 

That sentence itself was extremely hard to even say clearly. 

You can tell by how erratic his thrusts were getting that he was close to cumming soon, as were you. You kept moaning with every thrust, biting your lip each time you got close to cumming since you wanted to time it just right. Bruno leaned down and kissed your forehead, his blown out cerulean eyes gazing down on you. 

“Look at me when you cum, dolcezza. I want to see how beautiful you look.” 

His words were enough to throw you over the edge, and your walls spasmed against his hard cock once more, riding out your orgasm again. You looked at bruno as long as you could before you arched your back again, and moaned out his name in pleasure.

The feeling of your tight walls squeezing Bruno was enough to make him cum as well, and he did. He finished inside of you, moaning your name as he painted your walls and cervix white with his cum. 

Truth be told, you couldn’t remember the last time you had an orgasm, let alone two! You needed a moment to breathe and relax, as did Bruno.  His hips slowly faltered and he pulled out of you, watching as his cum  leaked out. You stroked his hair lovingly, looking into his eyes.

“Thank you.” You said in a faint tone of voice. 

“For what?” Bruno asked as he placed a chaste kiss to your lips. “I told you I am going to take care of you. You will never have to worry again from now on. I promise” 

Your eyes watered as you heard his words, and you couldn’t help but let a few tears fall. Bruno wiped them away with his thumb and he kissed you once more, faltering when he saw the deep bruise that covered your left eye. 

“I’ll never let anyone hurt you again.”