#on the left we see a twig that i can pick up and throw

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mark of the Beast

Please be kind. I haven’t written werewolves before and this is an unedited drabble I did to distract myself. Hope you enjoy werewolf!Thor and needless to say it’s dark.

Reblog and comment if you like, please and thank you.

Warnings: noncon and rape, exophilia, blood, biting.

You sat along the edge of the yard, just at one of those picnic tables set with chips, salsa, and other finger foods; most of it crumbs and smears as the night wore on. The fire licked up into the sky as the strangers chatter drunkenly, laugh loudly, and sing and dance wildly to the music floating from the bassy bluetooth speaker.

Parties were never your scene and you don’t know why you agreed to come. You didn’t even know why you were asked. You never were the fun friend, hell you were often the forgotten one. The one who found out they weren’t invited or when you were privileged enough to be asked along, it was because someone else fell through.

Well you couldn’t take another night in your boxy apartment, sitting there alone as you watched the same shows over and over again. Restless as nothing ever seemed to change and yet time continued to pass you by.

You noticed how as the sky darkened, the guests began to couple up and trickle away from the flames of the tiki torches and the empty keg. You thought this kind of thing was better left to college kids. 

The early summer night was cool and dull blue as clouds streaked the sky. You hadn’t seen the sun directly since noon and it cast an odd haze over the party. Even so, there had been much screaming and shrieking on the oversized slip and slide. Again, these people, you included, were too old to be throwing their drunken bodies around.

Valerie giggled as she hung off the slender man with the black hair. He wore a green button up and black jeans. His clothes were pressed and pristine. He looked out of place amid the group. He looked like you felt.

She grabbed his collar and led him away from the few stragglers still grinding around to the retro tones of TLC. You stood as she headed for the trees. She was your ride and you didn’t feel like staying all night so she could get laid by some stranger. You didn’t even know how she got invited to this.

The sky shifted and dimmed a little more. You collided with a large body as you made to catch up with Valerie. You recognized the blonde man. He’d been lurking throughout the night, socializing over the top of red plastic cup, at one point chatting with the black-haired man Valerie was flirting with and helping tap the keg when it was overturned in some dumb stunt.

“Oh, excuse me,” you said as his large hand settled on your arm, “um, I’m just…”

“You don’t like the party?” he asked in his booming voice.

“What? No, I--”

“You’ve been hiding over here all night,” he said, “and you haven’t looked very happy about it.”

“I’m sorry, who are you?” you countered.

“Well, this is my party,” he said lightly, “Thor.”

He removed his hand from your arm and offered it to you. You looked at it reluctantly then glanced around him.

“I’m here with my friend. We should probably go--”

“The one who just disappeared with my brother?” he chuckled, “I don’t think you want to walk in on that.”

“Then maybe I’ll just call a cab,” you shrugged, “but I should get--”

“Why did you come? To glower in the corner and feel sorry for yourself?”

“No, I… you don’t know me.”

“No, I do not but that is not my doing. You sit here and isolate yourself to the point that anyone who approaches you, cannot break that barrier you’ve put up. The one you blame on those around you but you’re the only one enforcing it,” his blue eyes were pale, almost silver as the clouds darkened, and you realised in that moment how big he was.

“I didn’t ask for your--”

“You wouldn’t know what to ask for if you found the nerve,” he gave a crooked smile, “you don’t know what you want, what you need.”

He leaned in as his voice turned to a growl, something animalistic as he leaned in and his shadow shut out the sky.

“I know I want to leave,” you said as you stepped back, only to hit the low bench behind you.

“Did you not notice?” he asked.

“Notice what?” you sidled along the wood and he stopped you, this time his fingers gripped your arm tightly.

“That everyone else is gone. They’ve found their mate…” he lowered his voice to a gristle, “the moon is close and they must consummate their pairing.”

“What are you--” you gasped as you saw the way his canines pointed dangerously and grazed along his lip.

“All in my pack made their claim,” he whispered as he leaned in and the silver moon flickered behind the wisping clouds, “I’m making mine.”

“Get off--”

Suddenly you were spun around and flung so you landed in the grass, your knees and the heels of your hands scraping against the twigs and pebbles. Before you could try to stand or turn, he was behind you. His large hands braced your throat and he pulled you onto your knees so that your back was to his torso as he lowered himself behind you.

His nose tickled your ear as he inhaled your scent and a growl crackled in his throat. His fingers tightened and you felt sharp claws prodding at your flesh. His breath picked up as you felt his body tremble. The clouds parted at last and the full moon painted the grass silver.

“You have no purpose, I see it,” his voice grinded roughly, “you are lost but I have found you…”

“Let me--” you rasped and wheezed as he choked you harder.

“You don’t know. How can you realise that I have chosen you for a greater need?” he slid one hand to the back of your neck and pushed you down sharply so that you were face down in the grass, “I can smell it on you… ripe for a pup.”

He flipped your over harshly and his hand pressed to your jaw as he squeezed it painfully. You grasped his wrist in terror as the moon limned the fine fur that had risen across his skin, his long blonde hair blending into his thick main as his eyes glowed eerily.

“I… I...what are you?”

“What are you?” he repeated back, “can you tell me that?”

“Please, don’t--”

“You’re mine,” he snarled as he dragged a long nail over your shirt and sliced through the fabric easily, his other hand still framed your jaw, “if you survive, you will carry my pup, if you don’t… an honourable death.”

You slapped at his hand as his fingers hooked in the front of your jeans and he janked them down in a single motion. Your panties caught in the denim as he brought his foot up to push them down to your ankles. He pushed his knee between your thighs and dug a nail into your hip. Hot blood rose around his claw.

“I can smell it all. The loneliness, the desperation, the fear… it’s delicious.”

His claw flicked over your clit lightly as he pushed your folds apart. He played with you as you squirmed helplessly and gripped his arm, one hand on his wrist and the other on his bicep.

“No, no--” you murmured as your body went into shock, the pleasure of his teasing like a muffled shout in your core.

When his hand moved from your cunt, you felt its absence more intensely. He brought his other knee between your legs and pushed them further apart until your jeans slipped from one ankle. He lifted your left leg and hooked his arm under it and leaned on you as he lined himself up.

You pushed on his chest as the moonlight limned his silhouette above you and clenched as he prodded against your entrance. He cradled your face and dropped his head down beside yours as he pinned you under his weight, your leg bent uncomfortably as your other splayed against his hip.

He poked at your resistance and when he finally pushed through, you cried out into the night. He was thick, so thick, and when you thought you could handle no more, he pushed further in. You strained around his cock as he snapped his hips up and when he filled you entirely, you whimpered as you felt him in your stomach.

You tangled your fingers in his hair as his hot breath tickled along the crook of your neck. He pulled back and you let go of the breath in your chest only to suck it back in as he thrust sharply. You whined as he jolted your entire body and sank his teeth into your flesh. The shock of pain mingled in your core and filled your veins with an irresistible heat. He removed his fangs from you and dragged his bloodied lips down your neck.

“If you fight it, you will suffer,” he purred, “give in… you feel it, don’t you?”

He rutted faster as his breath kept time with his hips. Your body was alight against the cool grass as your eyes rolled back. Your moans added to your horror as they rose without thought, roused by the friction of his pelvis against yours and the slapping of flesh on flesh.

He fucked you faster and harder with each tilt and held your head between two hands as he looked down at you. His thumbs rubbed your cheekbones as he kissed you hungrily and the taste of your own blood stained your lips.

You felt hollow and light. The weight of him faded and you were on high and your lashes fluttered as the silver nights and his dark shadowed coloured your vision. You curled your fingers over your chest as you came and arched beneath him like a wild animal. The orgasm sent heat through you from head to toe and you whined and whimpered desperately.

Thor hammered into you even harder and his growls filled your head. He snaked his arm under you and slammed his hips down so viciously that every bone in your body ached.

“Oh, little one,” he snarled, “you take me so well…” his thumb brushed over the bite on your neck, “you wear my mark like a true bitch.”

He buried himself completely and panted rampantly as he spasmed. His cum flooded you and seeped and squelched around him as he gave a final thrust. He held himself as deep as he could and nuzzled your cheek as the smell of his sweat filled your lungs.

“Mine,” his teeth brushed against you and you shivered as a sudden fatigue weighted your eyelids, “that’s it…” his voice grew further and further away, “let it take you, little one.”

[luimagines]

Not sure how familiar you are with Four Swords but would you be interested in writing separate Red, Blue, Green and Vio X reader? Obviously can be in an LU setting but doesn’t have to be! My girlfriend is a massive Four simp I know she’d swoon at this.

As always love your work! ❤️❤️

- Gaylactic-Fire

Masterlist

You've got it!

Color centric scenarios are a go!

Content under the cut!

Green

Your laughter bounced off of the forest canopy as you ran though the foliage.

Green held onto your hand tightly as he led the way, dodging in and out of bushes and the underbrush so frequently that you were sure you were thoroughly lost.

“Green!” You shout after a short twig scratches your ankle. “Where are we even going?”

“Somewhere special!” He replies with a wink over his shoulder.

That’s the only answer you get before he has you climbing over a particularly impressive rock, passing you the basket that he’s brought along and climbing right after you.

You shake your head and try your hardest not to look into the goods that he’s brought. He made you promise before you started out here to not peak and you don’t want to break it simply because you’re curios.

Granted, it a basket and he’s taking you somewhere special away from the people and his especially his brother- you think you can guess what’s inside and what you’re doing.

Green reaches up to where you are and takes the basket but a cheeky finger wave. “You promised~!”

“I know.” You snort. “I wasn’t looking.”

“Mm-hm...” He takes your hand again and begins to pull you along gentler along the rock and moves aside a curtain of vines before ushering you forward.

It’s a hidden tunnel and with wide and delighted eyes you venture forward, your boyfriend at your back before you come to a crystal cave, a blanket set on the dry rock below with multiple candles not only holding the blankets down but decorating the atmosphere with their flickering light, sending a filter of rainbow light across the cave.

A gasp leaves your mouth and you dash in front of the little display. “When did you do this? How did you find this place? I knew you taking me a for picnic but I didn’t think-”

“Happy anniversary.” Green holds out a single red rose in front of him a happy and bashful smile on his face.

Your heart drops to your feet when you accept the flower. “Green... oh, I’m sorry... I completely forgot. I didn’t get you anything.”

“I thought so.” Green admits. “You’ve been so nervous about acing your exams that you weren’t thinking much about anything else. But it gave me all the opportunity I needed to plan this, find this place and set everything up!”

“This is incredible Green, thank you.” You lean forward and kiss his cheek. “I’m sorry I’ve been so stuck in my head recently.”

“Don’t be.” Green takes your hands and kisses your knuckles. “If you pass the test you get to work in the castle as a royal court herbalist. It’s a big deal. They only accept the best of the best.”

 “I’m so nervous.” You say confidently.

“That’s ok.” Green chuckles. “But take a break for a little, yeah? I brought your favorites.”

Blue

You had left him the forge to work on the latest commission but you were beginning to suspect that he hadn’t once paused or taken a break.

And that just won’t stand.

So you walk right on in and wave to Green who’s working the front of the shop.

Green brightens at seeing your face and throws a thumb back toward the entrance to the forge. “Blue’s back there.”

“Has he left at all?’ You ask with a small smile on your lips.

Green shakes his head.

You sigh and shake your head.” That’s what I thought.”

“Gonna get him out?”

“I’m gonna try.” You admit with a shrug and walk toward the door.

“If anyone can, it’s you.” Green calls as you leave and you take a breath to brace yourself for the smell and the heat of the place.

You walk on it and look around, trying to get past the always dim light and spot him in the back by the anvil, the glowing amber light of the metal lighting up his face.

You step as close as you while still being safe of the sparks. 

“Blue!” You call out. 

He stops and looks up from the project before dunking it in the bucket of water nearby.

He leaves it there and begins to make his way over to you with a smile on his face. “Hey. I’m still working.”

“I can see that.” You say with a smile. “I was wondering if you would like to go get something to eat with me.”

Blue stalls for a moment, the idea waging a war in his mind. “...I’m still working.”

“It’s just a break, Blue. It’ll still be there when you get back.” You try to persuade him. “Please.”

You put on your cutest puppy eyes and lean closer, even going as far as to put hand in front of you as you plead your case. 

Blue bites his lip and worries the leather of his gloves but he doesn’t say anything.

You wait for a moment and drop your hands. “Is that a no?”

It’s hard to hide the disappointment in your voice and facial expression and you know that Blue sees it.

But you smile a little and nod. “That’s fine. We still have that date planned this weekend, right? I’ll.... I’ll see you then.”

“No.” Blue takes of his gloves. “I’m coming. Let’s go get lunch.”

“I- Really?” You blinked and don’t bother hiding your grin. “And you’re commission?”

“It’ll be there when I get back.” Blue takes the apron off and puts it on a nearby hook, taking your hand as he begins to leave the forge.

You’re sure that there’s a lot of safety hazards that he’s currently throwing out the window but Green is good at this too so hopefully he’ll cover for Blue.

You both exit and Blue is barely holding himself together. He’s just short of sprinting away from the shop entirely, waving to his brother on the way out while you giggle and give Green a wink.

It’s lunch time!

Red

“RED!” You cried out into the open. “RED!”

No one answers.

“Oh man, why me?” You whine and begin jogging down the road. “Of all days! ...RED! RED!”

Still nothing.

You at least take a moment to thank your lucky stars that there’s no one else on the road beside you or else they’d think you’re crazy for simply yelling out a color and expecting something to happen.

“I’m here!” You hear him call out at last.

Relief covers your entire body in a single wave and you pick up your pace. “Red, where have you been? Vio is going to have an aneurism about being on time with the dinner with your dad and grandpa and ....oh dear...”

You look up and see a very familiar red tunic... hanging upside down- hat on the ground and boots in the air, a single foot stretched out and held by a rope trap connected to a very tall tree.

You blink and sit yourself on the forest floor under you. “How is it that only you get into these kind of things?”

Red sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know. I didn’t know this was even here.”

“Clearly.” You run your hand through your hair and take a deep breath. You look around him and take in the tree. It looks like it can be climbed easily enough and if you can get up, you can undo the rope at the top, get your boyfriend out and then still have enough time to go doll yourself up for the first family dinner you’ve been invited to.

No pressure.

“You’re so lucky I love you.” You get up and pat Red out of the way to get a good grip on the tree bark in front of you.

“What are you doing?” 

“Getting you out Sweetheart, what does it look like I’m doing?” You reply and begin the climb.

“Please be careful.” Red gulps a bit and tried to ignore the amount of blood that’s been rushing to his head.

Finding the rope that holding your lover hostage is a bit more challenging than getting into the tree to begin with but you find it well enough.

You don’t have anything sharp to simply cut him free but you do have two hands- determination, spite and a whole lot of gumption at your disposal to try to undo the knot in the tree.

It’s takes an age.

But when you see that you’re making progress you get excited and tell Red to get ready to fall.

He doesn’t respond but you can somewhat see him nod and try to figure out how on earth he was going to land without hurting himself.

You feel like you should be helping him in that regard but you’re not on the ground anymore and someone still has to get the knot out.

It slips and Red falls right into a practiced roll like the professional that he is and you cheer on his behalf. “YAY! Red, you’re free!”

He laughs and goes to stand, wobbling immediately at the rush of blood but manages to stand on his feet.

You drop down from the tree after him and rush to give him a hug. “Hey there handsome!”

“Hello beautiful!” Red hugs you back. 

“Come on now! Or we’re going to be late!” You jump and begin to pull back through the forest. 

You do not want to give his family a bad impression of you after all.

Vio

“My love, you have to get up now.” Soft lips brush against your cheek with a sweet peck before a hand shakes your shoulder somewhat.

You blink your eyes open with a smile and roll over to the other side, completely ignoring the man in front of you.

“I saw that.” Vio chuckles and continues to shake your shoulder. “You said you’d help out in the shop today. you have to get up if you want to be there on time.”

“Nu-uh.” You hum and try to burrow deeper into the warm blankets.

Vio shakes you a little harder.

“Five more minutes.”

“No.” Vio says your name with the same exasperation as he would when dealing with Red. He hates that you two have this in common.

You’re content to stay in bed and fall back asleep until the blankets are unceremoniously ripped away from you.

The cold air had you curling in on yourself in an instant and you whined as loud as you could without opening your mouth to show your annoyance toward your boyfriend.

“Time to be awake now.”

“I don’t wanna~” You groan and roll around again, looking for a familiar mop of blond hair. “Why must you do this to me? I thought you loved me.”

That actually manages to get Vio to laugh before he crawls into bed next to you and lays down close enough where his nose just barely brushes yours. “I do love you. It’s why I’m making sure my lover can keep their promises and not become a hypocrite. It won’t look good on me if the love of my life begins slacking.”

You hum and close your eyes, reaching out for his hand and taking it into your own. You pull it up and give him a small kiss on his knuckles and sigh. “I suppose it really wouldn’t do you any good if your lover was a scoundrel.”

Vio snorts. “That and Red was excited about you joining in him in the front today so he’s been talking non stop about it.”

You groan louder and roll away from him, going so far as to roll off of the bed and hit the floor with your full weight.

Vio winces by the sounds and pushes himself upright. “You ok?”

“I really hate it when Red get disappointed.” You groan as loud as you can before getting up and stretching your arms over your head. “He always looks like he’s about to cry and then I want to cry with him and it’s a whole mess. I swear sometimes he does it on purpose.”

“Sounds about right.” Vio smiles and begins to put the bed together. “Go get ready. I’ll clean up.”

You yawn and nod. “Good morning by the way.”

“Good morning.” Vio says through his giggles. “Blue is making breakfast.”

“He’s gonna burn the toast again.”

“When does he not?”

“I can hear you!” Blue shouts from the stairs just beyond your bedroom door.

You snort and pop your head out. “Sorry Blue!”

Vio smirks and adjusts the corner until they’re flat and decent again. He’d be lying if he said that these weren’t some of his favorite mornings.

Bonus Shadow!

“I know you’re there~” You grin, not looking behind you as you attempt to finish the dishes for the night.

The flickering candle light made the shadows appear longer than they would usually and they sifted with the wave of the fire as the candle burned into the night.

No one answered your little tease but you knew you were right.

There a thickness in the air when you took a breath. It was your only clue that you weren’t alone. Others might have been frightened or confused by your relaxed nature when something was going on but you knew you just had to wait a minute and the problem would solve itself.

You were being watched but you wanted to coax him out.

“I’m almost done here.” You smile and let the water rinse off the plate you were holding before putting in the rack. “Then we can head upstairs a little while. Not much we can do in the dark.”

“I beg to differ.” The voice replies. “There’s plenty to do in the dark.”

You smirk. “Then beg.”

“Well that’s not very nice.” Arms come to wrap around your waist as a chin hooks onto your shoulder.

You giggle as a strand of hair tickles your cheek and you try to blow it aside with a small gust of air but it doesn’t work.

You sigh and let it happen, taking care to not get the person next to you wet. You take the next plate and rinse it under the water, trying to get the soap off of it and put it away to be dried later.

“Are you done?” The voice whines.

“If I say yes, will that you make you happy Shadow?” You smirk and turn your head to look at him. 

Truthfully, he looks exhausted as it is. He has dark circles under his eyes and paler complexion than usual. He takes a minute to respond as he looks at the dishes in the sink and back to you. He takes a breath and nods.

You snort and dry your hands, turning around to hug him back properly and rest your head in the crook of his neck as well.

“Do you want to go to bed?” You ask him. “You look tired.”

“I am tired.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

You both stand there in the middle of your kitchen and sway a little, taking in each other warmth and comfort.

Shadow takes another breath and straightens up from curling around you. “Yes, please.”

[apple-death]

Fuck This Shit I’m Out

Tw: Excessive Swearing

‘Don’t be suspicious, don’t be suspicious.’

Y/n chanted in her head as she quietly tried to move away from the second youngest Madrigal as she explored the surrounding area yelling out their name sometimes.

‘Fuck, fuckfuck, fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckFUCK!’

Y/n chanted in her head to the tune of Allegro by Mozart as she tried to get away from the unknowing girl as swiftly and soundless as possible. Which was difficult as she held a canvas the perfect size to make the task at hand harder. As well as the rest of her paint case in her other hand. 

It was actually impressive that Mirabel didn’t see the blinding white canvas against the green fores along with the panicking child holding it.

‘Don’t step on a twig don’t step on a twig. Don’t do the most cliche way to be noticed, don’t do it hoe.’

She held her breath and looked right past Mirabel so the girl wouldn’t get the feeling that someone was watching her, but still be able to keep an eye on her. 

After god knows long Y/n was able to get a decent ways away and slowly turned around before hastily walking away and back to their house. 

During the trek back home she occasionally looked around and for some unknown reason looked behind her, to which see saw Mirabel Madrigal a couple feet away looking directly at her. She jumped and let out an ear piercing shriek while throwing the canvas at the poor girl who also jumped at the sudden scream.

“AAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!”

‘HOLY SHIT!!!!’

“OhmygodI’msosorryIdidn’tmeantoscareyou!I’msorryareyouokay?!”

Mirabel spewed as she picked up the thrown canvas and slowly approached Y/n who was pretty sure she was dying.

Being dramatic and to lighten her mood, Y/n clutched her heart as she calmed down and leaned over.

“Mah Heart, Mah soul.”

“Uh, what?”

Mirabel’s face twisted in confusion at the foreign language that came out of the girl’s mouth. Y/n just looked her dead in the eyes before answering.

“How long have you behind me?”

“Ever since you tried to ditch me in the woods. Not very nice to leave a young girl out on her lonesome in the woods by the way.”

She joked but noticed the confused look on Y/n’s face and guessed that she didn’t know what she just said.

“Awhile. Been behind you for awhile.”

Y/n sighed in annoyance and gestured to their canvas Mirabel held.

“Can I have back please?”

“Oh! Right! Sorry...”

She handed it to them and they took it with caution written all over their face.

“-I’m not dangerous you know, I don’t bite.”

Y/n just glared at her unimpressed at the joke.

‘Pleeeassseee god just let me be aloonneee. This is so awkward.’

“So where are we going?”

‘Waahhh mmeeee???’

Y/n raised an eyebrow at the wording of the girls question.

“We?”

“Yeah! I mean, you are kind of new to Encanto as we never knew of you. And I want to get to know you! Maybe even be friends.”

Mirabel scooched over to Y/n with a grin and the girl promptly stepped away.

“No.”

‘I just wanted to ppaaaiiiinntttt. Why does it have to be so hard to be left in peace????’

“If you don’t let me come with you I’ll tell my cousin Dolores where you are. SHe hears everything by the way.”

“I know.”

“Ugghhh. Well, can you at least guide me home?? I got lost following you.”

Y/n froze at the statement, they were at least two hours out of town and it was late in the afternoon. That and the two hour estimate was based off of her, who knew how to navigate the path so with an inexperienced partner it could take longer.

‘If I don’t take her, her family will probably have a manhunt for her and I don’t need them close to my place. If I do take her I might have even more interaction with people. But if I leave her she might just follow me home and that’s not good....ffffffuuuuu-’ 

“Fine.”

“YES!”

Mirabel did a fist pump and realized y/n had already started to walk away and was almost twenty feet away already and ran to catch up.

<Previous/Next>

Table of Contents

[lovetorn]

Life Was A Willow [Part 1]

Witch Hunter!Dream x Witch!Fem!Reader

Part 2 Part 3

Summary: it's always been hunters vs. witches, right?

Word Count: 3.7k+

Warnings for part 1: violence, swearing

A/N: AHHHH !! It's finally here !! i'm going to be posting this in parts, originally 2, but looking at it now, it may even possibly be 3 parts. i've been working on this for months and i'm extremely happy with it !! i hope you guys love it as much as i do !!

The leaves of the willow tree rustle loudly whilst Y/n kneels in front of the raspberry bush. With each piece of the fruit, her fingertips are stained with a deep magenta as she plucks them off of the branches. Bark and twigs dig into her knees sharply when she reaches forward to grasp one last raspberry, but before she has the chance to pick it, the sound of horse hooves galloping on the dirt startle her.

“Ma’am! Are you alright?” A deep voice calls. Y/n sighs, standing from her spot on the ground before she turns around.

Five men on tan horses surround her. Her heart skips a beat when she recognises their uniforms. Witch hunters. With the nod of her head, Y/n smiles. “I’m doing just fine, gentlemen! Thank you for your concern.”

Although, she doesn’t recognise any of their faces—especially the man in a mask. The girl tilts her head at the sight of it; hardly any hunters wear a mask. But, what confuses her more is the taunting smile drawn lazily across the white ceramic. “Are you sure? There’s a whole lot of danger in these parts, sweetheart!”

Y/n almost rolls her eyes but stops before they catch onto her. “I promise, I’m completely fine.” She wishes she could see the expression of the man in the mask.

None of the hunters reply before they kick the sides of their horses and ride off in the opposite direction they came. Panic sets in as Y/n drops her basket of berries and sets off into a sprint, her skirts catching under her feet.

Being this far from home with hunters close-by is risky, Y/n knows this. But the raspberry bush had just ripened and she promised Wilbur she would bake him a raspberry cheesecake in return for repairing her wand.

Her lungs burn as she pushes open the small wooden gate that surrounds the house.

“Niki!” Y/n yells, her voice cracking slightly in fear. Her friend spins around from her spot in the garden. “Y/n! Take a look at the rose—“

Y/n only shakes her head, turning back in panic. “Hunters.”

“Quickly then, get inside, we must inform Wilbur.”

The pair rush into the cottage, Niki’s rose bush and Y/n’s basket of berries left behind.

The back door slams against the wall, only to be shut and locked as soon as it was opened. Wilbur stands from his spot at the dining table with a puzzled expression.

“How many?” Wilbur runs a hand over his face.

“A whole army. The King’s been busy; there’s a lot of new faces.”

The man sighs deeply. He turns to face Niki, who sits on the kitchen stool with a look of fear on her face. Y/n swallows and peers out of the small window. She sees a flash of white and the sound of an arrow cutting the air. “They’re here. They’ve followed me.”

—

Niki is the first to exit the house, her hands out in front of her. She clenches her jaw as she feels tingles through her muscles, her eyes shaped like crescent moons. The sound of branches cracking and leaves crunching makes her throw her hand to her right, which earns a distant cry as a hunter is thrown backwards.

Wilbur hurries around the house in search of his staff while Y/n whispers angrily at him to hurry up. The man lets out a quiet squeal when he spots it leaning against the living room wall and faces Y/n. He exhales, nodding once to tell her to go out the back door.

Y/n moves silently whilst passing windows and eventually through the door. Her eyes dart in every direction as she steps onto the dirt beneath her. The only sound is the snapping of bows and faint cries from the front of the house.

“Witch!” A voice calls. Y/n lifts her hands up, flecks of glitter-like sparkles falling from her fingertips. “We come to you on behalf of the King; he wishes to discuss potential alliances with you.”

Y/n struggles to distinguish where the voice comes from before there’s a hand on her back and she’s being pushed to the ground. She scowls and turns to face the person behind her; a man with a white bandana tied around his head.

Y/n jumps up instantly, moving her finger in a circular motion until the man’s feet begin to lift off the ground.

“Hey, hey! No!” He yells, scrambling to grasp the sword attached to his back. Y/n raises an eyebrow as she gets a closer look at the weapon.

“A diamond sword? Huh? Did Technoblade give you that?”

The man visibly stills, his hands fumbling the sword as he brings it up beside his face. “Yeah, what about it?”

Y/n shakes her head, a sad smile on her cheeks. “Nothing, Techno’s an old friend of mine. Tell me, is he well?”

The squeal of an arrow stops the man from answering her question. Y/n steps back when the sharp object swizzles past her head. “That wasn’t very nice.”

She chooses to pay no attention to the other hunter, who hides behind a tree and instead focuses on the one in front of her.

“Are you new?” Y/n asks calmly.

The man nods before Y/n lowers him back onto his feet. “Name. Now. That’s not a question but a demand.”

“Sapnap.”

Y/n squints at him. “Odd.”

“Y/n! We need help!” Wilbur calls from the opposite side of the house. Y/n sighs and places her hands back to her sides. The man with the diamond sword narrows his eyes at her, jerking his neck to the side to stretch it.

Y/n sighs in annoyance and sweeps him to the side, the roots from Niki’s rose bushes wrapping tightly around his body; not enough to hurt him, but to keep him immobile.

Y/n goes to step in the direction of the front of the house but is stopped by the man in the mask. A bow and quiver sit on his back and Y/n glances at them, planning on destroying them. “Don’t even think about it.”

Y/n is taken aback by the man’s forwardness and watches as he draws a dagger from his boot. Y/n raises her hands again, her eyes turning to slits as she awaits the man’s next moves.

As anticipated, he lunges forward, the knife tightly held in his fist. Y/n swiftly dodges, her hands moving majestically around to form a divet in the ground for him to fall into. However, she is quickly mistaken when he spins on his heel and steps over the growing hole.

“Nice tactic,” The man teases. “But not good enough.” Y/n is annoyed that she can’t see his face—she'd love to see what it’d look like after this.

Y/n rolls her eyes, a bored look on her face. She sighs deeply and steps into a fighting stance. She notices the man doing the same.

“Nice footwork,” Y/n says, stomping one foot into the earth before it starts to vibrate. “But not good enough.”

The man’s face falls and pales behind his mask as vines come to conceal his feet. Y/n smirks as he falls onto the dirt with a thump. The man lays with his back against the ground and his arms outstretched as Y/n stands above him.

She smiles at him—her grin is more genuine than usual, which is odd considering the circumstances—and leans down and places her mouth near his ear. “You know, you did pretty well for being a new hunter.”

The man scoffs then laughs in response. “Thanks.”

—

A hunter draws his sword, one made out of netherite, and Wilbur’s eyes grow in shock. “How did you get that?”

The man smirks and lifts the weapon high into the air. He brings it down towards Wilbur, who quickly matches the hunter’s strength with his staff. The two objects clash against one another and white light begins to seep through the lines in the staff.

Wilbur inhales sharply at the sight and pushes the man away with all his might. His staff starts to vibrate and soon the wood cracks in various places.

“Wil, move!” Y/n comes from behind him, her hands out wide as she lifts the hunter into the air and towards a tree. His body slams against the bark, making pieces fall onto the grass before branches weave around the man, enclosing him in a cocoon.

“Thanks,” Wilbur smiles, although it falters when he notices his staff becoming weak. “But I think it’s the end for this guy.”

Y/n frowns, her fingers caressing the cracked wood. “We can’t repair this. You must go to Quackity, he’ll be able to fix it.”

“I can’t fix this.”

Y/n’s jaw goes slack before she stands from the long table. “Alex! Why not?”

Quackity stifles a sly laugh as he rounds the table, picking up the broken staff on the way past. “It’s beyond repair. You see, when netherite and magical objects mix, the netherite completely destroys any magic within it. Therefore making it impossible to fix.”

Wilbur rolls his eyes, “We know that already, Sherlock, which is why we brought it to you thinking you could help us. But you clearly can’t, so we’ll be on our way.”

Quackity’s eyes widen and he drops the stick onto the table once more. “No! I–I can fix it, just give me a few days.”

Y/n raises an eyebrow, suspicious of his sudden enthusiasm. She slams the staff onto the table from Quackity’s hands and looks him in the eye. “No fucking around, okay, Alex? You fix this staff or there will be consequences. Got it?”

The man looks around his cave in search of something. Y/n squints as she watches him duck under rocks and dodge around cauldrons.

“Karl? Have you got any wands?” He calls down a hallway. Y/n and Wilbur meet gazes, his eyes moving towards the staff before Quackity returns in a hurry.

“Well, I haven’t got a wand to cast a promising spell, but if you come back in 2 days, I’ll guarantee this staff will be good as new and back in business,” He smiles, snatching the wood from the table. “Free of charge, just for you.”

Wilbur nods hesitantly, glancing at Y/n before he stands. “Okay. See you then, I guess.”

Quackity grins. He slowly shifts his weight to his other foot as he waits for them to leave. But Y/n isn’t finished.

“If you trick us, Alex. I swear to god I will take that little hat if yours and shove it right—”

The younger man shakes his head, “There will be no need! I’d never trick you! I just want to help my friends.”

Wilbur winces on the word ‘friends’ and ducks his head as he exits the cave. “See you!” Quackity says before Y/n follows in suit.

“Karlos, we’ve got work to do!”

“Down this way!”

Dream’s eyes drift towards the small cottage he and the hunters were at yesterday. Sapnap rolls his neck and groans in pain. “You’d think they’d wait a few days before going out again.”

Dream ignores his friend’s complaints as the group nears the house. The tidy garden and ivy that intertwined along the roof are torn and disrupted, and Dream feels slightly guilty looking at the damage they did. But, upon arrival, the house is empty.

“It’s been abandoned!” A brunette hunter yells in confusion. Dream twists his lips and narrows his eyes at a faint snap a few feet away. The silence is deafening as he realises everyone else heard it too. “Don’t move. We’ve been ambushed.”

The men look up towards the trees above them; the canopy appears darker than usual. Suddenly, a hunter behind Dream yelps, and as he turns around to see what happened, the man is gone. This causes a collective gasp amongst the group, fear coursing through their veins.

“Hello, boys!” A voice calls from the trees. The hunters whip their head around, trying to decipher which direction it came from and readies their swords. However, Dream remains calm. He only raises his eyebrow at the sound of the voice continuing. “Lovely seeing you here.”

Another yell echoes through the group and another and another until only Dream and Sapnap remain.

“Hey, Snapmap. Can I call you that? Or is that only reserved for your friends?”

The younger boy furrows his eyebrows as his eyes lay on Y/n, floating down from the trees. Dream watches the same girl he fought yesterday, fling Sapnap’s sword away with the swish of her fingers. The pair tilt their heads at the action and remain quiet when Y/n begins laughing. “Calm down, you’re acting like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Dream feels someone behind him and then he turns around and swings his sword in one movement. He’s met with a slightly taller man, who immediately forces his sword backwards and onto the dirt.

Dream’s eyes widen before he brings his fists up. “This isn’t a fair fight.”

Wilbur struggles to contain his giggle as he meets Y/n’s gaze. “You want to take this one?”

Y/n nods and lifts her hands to drag Dream across the forest floor towards her. Dream is startled as he regains his balance. “Nice seeing you again, mask boy.”

“Can’t say I feel the same, witch,” Y/n smirks at his serious tone before she shoots her hand to the side to gather a sword from one of the hunters who sits tied to the branches above them.

“Get your sword, it’ll be a fair fight.”

Dream bends down to pick up his netherite sword, its purple aura intimidating to the iron one Y/n holds. “No magic.”

Y/n rolls her eyes. “Got it.”

And with the sound of metal scraping against metal, the fight begins.

Y/n steps back as Dream moves forwards. He bounces on the balls of his feet and adjusts his grip on the sword before he lunges forward. Y/n is quick to sidestep the sharp edge before she retaliates with her own movement. The pair continue barely missing each other, the interaction being a friendly fight rather than a deadly one. Y/n shifts her weight to her back foot as she watches Dream’s sword swing between them.

“What’s your name, anyway? I know Sapnap’s, so what’s yours?” Y/n asks, out of breath slightly. Dream squints as he dodges her swing at his abdomen. “Dream.”

“Well, Dream, you’re good with a sword. I’m Y/n, by the way.” Y/n mumbles, and what she doesn’t see is Dream’s cocky smile. She doesn’t question his odd name like she did with Sapnap yesterday, and it makes his stomach turn.

The pair stop for a second, staring at each other before Dream’s blade cuts the air and barely misses Y/n’s shoulder. The girl gasps at the closeness and scolds him.

In Dream’s moment of victory, and distraction, Y/n thrusts forwards, her sword coming to a halt at Dream’s throat. “I win. Again.”

Dream gulps. The feeling of the sharp point so prominent on his skin scares him. But, the soft look in Y/n’s eye tells him she’s not going to kill him. And as she begins to lower her sword, Dream’s foot sweeps under hers, causing her to tumble forward. There’s a dull thud of bodies hitting the dirt, and Y/n knows exactly where she is.

“I—Uh,” Dream mumbles, his hands hovering over Y/n’s hips as she lays on top of him.

“Thanks for that.” She murmurs. Dream hums and tries to help her maneuver off of him. The pair eventually stand and avoid eye contact, despite keeping it for close to 8 minutes straight previously.

“Get a room!” Sapnap yells from the tree. There’s a small grumble of laughter from the other hunters and Y/n shakes her head.

“How do you plan on getting down, Snapmap?” The youngest boy’s expression turns sour. Dream tilts his head back to observe the other hunters and laughs lightly—his throaty chuckle making Y/n look at him.

“Well, have fun!” Y/n calls as she slips away, but not before she bids Dream goodbye.

The hunters trudge through the castle gates with defeated expressions and their outfits muddy. The group share collective groans of pain as they walk the grounds, their muscles aching.

“What was all that between you and that witch?” Sapnap asks Dream whilst they enter the Hunters Wing of the castle. Dream shrugs and strips himself of his jacket, hanging it on the peg on the wall next to them.

The Hunters Wing of the castle is a large area with corridors of bedrooms and even more rooms for dining, training, cooking, reading, and more. The training room, however, is the largest out of all of them. Its high ceilings and concrete pillars make for a great place for target practice, surprise attack run-throughs, and performing hand-to-hand combat.

Dream spends most of his time here; Sapnap pokes fun at him for his constant preparation for new opportunities, but their other best friend, and the Prince, George, just applauds him for his determination—which eventually makes Sapnap agree.

“Nothing, and her name’s Y/n.” Dream’s lack of answer causes Sapnap to sigh loudly as he sits on the bench to untie his boots.

“Bullshit.” He exasperates. “There was definitely something there and you know it. But you better get over it, it's forbidden.”

Dream rolls his eyes and shrugs one shoulder. “Not forbidden, just frowned upon.”

Sapnap drops his shoes onto the cobblestone ground abruptly, groaning at his best friend before he stands and walks towards his bedroom. “You are such a—”

“Sapnap!” A new voice startles the boy, and Dream grins as soon as he recognises it.

“Georgie, don’t scare me like that, you idiot,” Sapnap whines, jogging over to the Prince to lightly punch his shoulder.

“Please, if that scared you then I’d consider you a—” Another light punch to his shoulder stops George from continuing.

“No swearing, Gogy,” Dream snickers as he walks towards the pair, heaving his duffle bag he collected from the cubby hole. He reaches his hand down to George’s cheek before pinching it. “Wouldn’t want to ruin your image.”

George shrugs both of the boys off of him with a scowl. “Get off of me, the both of you.”

Sapnap only giggles at George’s attempt at swatting their hands away, his own hand coming up to cover his smile. Dream places his bag on the floor, smirking, before letting out a soft laugh.

“Anyways, Dream had a moment with one of the witches today.”

George’s eyebrows raise as he turns to look at Dream, who rolls his eyes at the topic again. “Is she pretty?”

Dream goes to reply, yes, and she can fight really, really well, but Sapnap is quick to shut down his chance.

“George, it’s forbidden, why don’t you disapprove of this?” Sapnap’s brows furrow as he throws his hands around. Dream crosses his arms over his chest, irritated that he’s brought it up again, and now to the Prince.

The eldest shrugs. “I find magic more interesting and worth learning about, than dangerous. It would be so cool to have powers like that, don't you think?”

Sapnap groans again. “Ugh! You guys are so weird. Talk to me when you come to your senses about how it's destroying our world rather than helping it.” And ignoring Dream and George’s calls, he stalks to his room, leaving the pair in the training room.

“He’ll come around.” The Prince mumbles.

However, Dream doesn't say anything, picks up his duffle bag from the floor and takes off in the opposite direction, leaving George alone.

“Pricks.”

Y/n sits on the rocking chair on the patio of the cottage, a spellbook in her lap and a mug of lavender tea in her hand. The wind picks up slightly, making the leaves rustle and the trees sway around her. The chair rocks softly and the creaks of the house comfort her—especially in a time when everything is unknown.

As she goes to bring the cup to her lips, Y/n is startled by an object flying at her. She throws her opposite hand up to stop it before it hits her, the force causing the rocking chair to tilt backwards.

Y/n feels a sharp edge on her palm and her heart skips a beat. As she moves her hand away, she notices that the object is, in fact, not a dagger, but an envelope. She exhales loudly and feels her heart rate slow down from its once rapid beating.

Y/n examines the letter as it floats in front of her face and then grasps it in her fingers. The envelope is crisp and white and is closed with a red wax seal. The signature can only mean one thing: the Castle.

Opening the letter, there is a single white card with black calligraphy: Y/n, wait for the signal and I’ll meet you after dark, at the abandoned cottage that is East of the castle. We can talk then. –C

The witch furrows her eyebrows. C? Who is C?

She chooses against notifying Wilbur and Niki about the letter, and instead, slots it into her spellbook and takes a sip of her tea.

But, Y/n notices a return address on the card before she tucks it away, and flicks her hand back over her shoulder to summon a pen and paper. The pen stills in front of the card, waiting for Y/n to instruct it on what to write.

“Dear, C,” Y/n starts, she ponders for a moment before continuing. “I’ll be waiting for the signal, I hope it’s grand.”

Puckering her lips, Y/n swirls her finger around to fold the letter up and sends it back inside to package it.

The envelope, now sealed with periwinkle wax, flies out of the floor and then up into the sky and out of sight. Y/n sighs, mindlessly fiddling with the corner of the card she received.

Ok, she’ll meet them after dark. Whoever they are.

[jackrrabbit]

🤍 Haikyuu WIP excerpts

preview post for hq because recently i showed sara a list of my works in progress and she laughed at me and then made a dn joke like this is 2015 or something. we got:

🤍 communal property /// ushijima x f!reader x tendou 🤍 sunshower /// atsumu x f!reader x osamu 🤍 corporate ethics /// kuroo x f!reader

anyway these are all terrible first drafts and i'm not sorry. however i am very very into these pieces and if you're interested in seeing them finished, you should tell me fr fr

🤍 communal property /// Ushijima x f!Reader x Tendou

Summary: Tendou shares everything with Ushijima—his food, his dorm room, even the AVs he likes. Why not his girlfriend, too?

Tags/warnings: poly relationship in progress (only you and Tendou are dating at this point), mild suggestiveness ??, s*ze k*nk

Status: 10k words written (holy fuck lol) out of ~11k total? this bitch better get finished is2g

After the match, your voice is hoarse from screaming but you still manage to yell congratulations for your boyfriend when you meet him and Ushijima outside the locker room in the stadium. You’re pumped on the adrenaline of the game, so you don’t even protest like you usually would when Tendou picks you up in the middle of your hug and lifts you off the ground effortlessly. “How was I? Awesome, right? I told you we would beat them!”

“You did, you so did—“ Even though your throat hurts, you can’t help gushing about every rally, every soul-crushing block, every impossible spike. “—and then the guy on the left thought he was clear to shoot it but you just—“ You throw your arms in the air and mime hitting the ball down like a blocker. “Wha-bam!—and the look on his face! I thought he was going to punch you!”

Tendou laughs and lays a sloppy kiss on your cheek, just as thrilled as you are by the win. “You really liked it that much? I thought you weren’t into sports.”

“I loved it! You were so cool! I can’t believe I’m dating someone so cool!” You wrap your legs around his back and hug his face close to yours, reveling in the fact that this weirdo belongs to you wholly and entirely, that you get to have him to yourself (well, other than his roommate). “And I’m not into sports, I’m into you.”

Tendou smiles in a way that makes the sides of his eyes crinkle up and little red patches bloom over his cheeks, a look that says, I like you so much (Y/N), I like you I like you I like you, except he’s probably trying not to be mushy like that since Ushijima is standing off to the side.

You feel a little bad for ignoring him (no one likes being the third wheel, even if he never shows signs of caring) so when Tendou sets you down you turn to Ushijima. “And you! Holy shit, Tendou said you were good, but I didn’t know you were that good. The ball when you hit it was super loud—honestly, how are your hands okay? If I hit it that hard I’d probably break something.”

“My hands are fine…this is normal for me.”

But just because you’ve got them here in front of you and you’re still pumped from the exhilaration of the win, you can’t help grabbing Ushijima’s hand and flipping it palm-up to inspect. True to his word, there’s no redness, just the calluses he’s built up on his long fingers. “Wow.”

“You don’t need to worry about Wakatoshi,” Tendou tells you, grinning and then making a face. “He’s a monster, he can handle it.”

“No kidding. You’re both monsters.” You put the base of your palm up against Ushijima’s to gauge the size of his hand against yours, and without prompting Tendou grabs your other hand to press against his own. Tendou’s fingers are a bit longer, but Ushijima’s are…thicker, more solid. Your hands look like a little kid’s in comparison. “Can I be honest? Half the time I was thinking I actually feel bad for the other team. If I had to take on both of you at the same time, I’d probably cry.”

You’re (mostly) joking, but it’s still a complete shock when you see the side of Ushijima’s mouth curl up a tiny bit. You’ve known each other for months at this point, but you’ve never seen him smile until now. Half of you is wondering if this is some kind of optical illusion caused by the atmosphere and the dim light of the stadium cutting through the evening, but the other half of you enjoys it. You made Ushijima smile. You did that.

“Don’t sell yourself short, (Y/N).” Ushijima says, tipping his head to the side.

“Yeah!” Tendou chimes in, resting his chin on top of your head and folding his arms around your neck from his place behind you. “I’m sure you could take both of us. Right, Wakatoshi?”

So that’s probably a sign.

🤍 sunshower /// Atsumu x f!Reader x Osamu

Summary: [Kitsune AU] You find an old Ō-Inari shrine in the woods that may not be as abandoned as it looks.

Tags/warnings: Shinto religion, this preview is biased toward tsumu oops, yearning/soft vibes

Status: 3.9k words written out of 5–6k? total

Atsumu was the one who found you.

That’s how he likes to talk about it, that he found you, like you’d still be wandering around lost in the woods if it weren’t for him. Osamu thinks you would have found your way back home eventually but Atsumu likes it better this way, this framing that makes it seem like they saved you.

It’s hard for him to tell time linearly the way humans do but you mention once that you’ve known them for a year and that seems to fit. It’s spring now, almost barely tipping into summer, and it was spring when Atsumu found you. He remembers because of the way it was raining: light and tender, a summer rain early in the season, each little drop tapping off a leaf and then rolling into the forest bed to be eaten up by the grass and the soil.

Atsumu likes the rain, likes the sweet earthy smell it makes and the way the plants look so lush and green and alive, like they’d bleed if he sunk his teeth into them. He was out in the woods because of the rain ('Samu was in the shrine, as usual, attempting to set buckets under the millions of holes in the roof so the rainwater wouldn’t pool and rot through the wood underneath). But Atsumu was half asleep in a tree when he heard you crashing through the undergrowth, tripping over ferns and snapping every twig in your path (thought ya might be a bear, he tells you later, that’s how loud ya were) but he wouldn’t really have woken up if he hadn’t heard you singing.

(The odd thing is, you weren’t actually singing. You remember that day as vividly as they do: the warm, humid air making your skin feel sticky under your yellow raincoat; the tiny raindrops filtering through the canopy and kissing your cheeks; the ink feathering out on the damp xerox of the old map you found in your great-aunt’s attic so you could barely make out the “X” that was supposed to mark the location of the lost Inari shrine… You were cursing how stupid you’d been to go on a wild goose chase into the mountains with no cell service and no marked trail to look for a shrine that no one had seen in decades. You definitely weren’t singing.)

But Atsumu remembers it differently. No matter how many times you explain that you were just talking to yourself, when he replays the sound of your voice back then (reaching and lilting and falling, the way the birds talk to each other in the early morning, except the music of it was poured into syllables and words), it sounds like you’re singing. He wasn’t sure at first, hadn’t heard a voice that wasn’t Osamu’s in so many years that he gets tired counting them, but then he saw you push into view from between two bushes and he thought, a human!

A girl, too—it was hard to say at first because you were wearing that weird, slick jacket of yours, so bright yellow it was like an oversized flower blooming out of the grass, but then you tilted your head up to feel the rain on your face and the hood fell down and he knew. Not just a human, a girl! Atsumu wanted to yell for Osamu, make him come and confirm that there was a person wandering around not a mile from the shrine. A real person! Singing and smiling and wiping the rain off her cheeks (does that mean you like the rain, just like he does? did you come out to feel it too?) But he also wanted to surprise Osamu so he hid his tails and his ears and came down from the tree and asked if you had lost your way in the forest, since you were so far from any path…

When you think back on this yourself you’re amazed that you just went with him: a strange boy (man?) wearing a fox mask and traditional Shinto priest robes, which were somehow pristine white and red despite him having appeared from nowhere in the middle of a dense forest, who told you he had no idea what direction the village was but he could take you to the Inari shrine you’d been searching for…well. Maybe you were too surprised to be wary, or maybe you were just exhausted and lost. But you like to think you had a sense of it even then, the irrational belief that the boy in the woods was not just a boy in the woods.

Atsumu thinks you knew. Humans always understand, even when they try not to… He remembers, he took your hand that day in the forest and you saw that the claws on his fingers were too long to be human, and you said nothing because on some level you already felt it. Your skin was cool then, smooth and damp from the rain; he wanted to stop, run his hands up your arms, touch the places on your face where your mouth had been turned up at the corners and press his fingers into your cheeks.

🤍 corporate ethics /// Kuroo x f!Reader

Summary: [Office AU] The new junior marketing associate just happens to be Kuroo’s favorite camgirl, and he’s having trouble keeping his hands to himself.

Tags/Warnings: boss/employee, businessman!Kuroo as a reformed player, camgirl reader, this excerpt has a lil bit of 18+ content 👀

Status: 1.2k words written out of 4k? words total

Kuroo doesn’t watch porn.

It’s not, like, a moral principle or something. He has nothing against pornography. As far as he knows, it’s perfectly normal for single men. He just doesn’t like it…unless it’s you.

When he was in school it was easy. Being a teenager meant being so flooded with hormones that a warm breeze could get him up, and the adrenaline rush of winning a game was better than any big-titted porn actress faking moans into a shit-quality boom mic. Sure, he watched porn back then (what teenage boy didn’t?), but it was more out of curiosity than necessity. It was all kind of a mystery at that point, the way it can only be when you’re a clueless virgin and you and all your friends are too busy practicing for the next game to get girls.

Somehow Bokuto was the first one in their friend group to lose his virginity, and the memory of the dumbass self-consciously describing the experience has been lodged in Kuroo’s brain for the 10+ years since. “It was…I don’t know. She smelled good. You know how girls always smell good?” Bokuto’s hands twitched and his face was pink. “It’s just really…soft.”

Soft was right, Kuroo would reflect when he got laid for the first time a few months later. Soft, warm, wet. Sex was awkward at first, but before he knew it it was more natural than breathing.

It didn’t change much after high school, either. He didn’t get into volleyball for the groupies, but they didn’t hurt. There were girls when he played for his college team, more girls when he joined a business frat, so many girls he couldn’t keep track…they blurred together after a while. It didn’t take effort. You don’t need game when you’re 6’2 and you’re in the gym 40 hours a week, and you definitely don’t need porn.

So he never got into it. Now that he’s promoting volleyball instead of playing, things are more complicated. Kuroo’s never been the type who expects things to fall in his lap, but there are so many rules when it comes to dating in the real world. Good morning texts, anniversaries, flowers, parents. It’s exhausting. One time—seriously, just one time—Kuroo misses his girlfriend’s birthday to go watch a Jackals game, and the next time he sees her she throws her drink on him in public and keys his car. After that, Kuroo decides that until he’s ready to settle down there will be no more girlfriends. Which means no more reliable sex. Which means resorting to porn.

Which means you.

You, batting your eyelashes at the camera and biting the side of your lip. You, purring and mewing like a kitten. You, lying back on your pretty pink bedsheets in your pretty pink lingerie, sliding your hands between your legs. It takes Kuroo a full month to decide to pay for access to your website (Kenma’s unsolicited recommendation) but it takes less than five minutes for him to upgrade access to premium. You look like a wet dream—no, you look like the centerfold of every dirty magazine Kuroo managed to get his hands on when he was younger. Pristine and alluring and so deliciously out of reach.

And you make it so simple. No delicate emotional games with rules Kuroo never bothered to learn. No pretending to care how your day was. You untie the little bows on the side of your panties and lick your fingers and Kuroo just has to take his dick out and watch you. Getting off hasn’t been this easy for him since college. You’re a camgirl, you exist on his computer screen, and that’s how he likes it.

Which makes it a lot more awkward when Kuroo finds out that the only woman he’s gotten off to in the past…year, maybe?…somehow just got hired in JVA’s sports promotion department as his junior associate.

Your prim work blouse is buttoned up to the collar and your makeup is different, but he knows it’s you. You have to tell him your name twice because he’s too stunned to respond the first time, and even then he can’t summon up more of a response than a curt nod because his mouth tastes like dirt.

You smile a little awkwardly at his cool reception, and the hand you’d extended out to shake swings back down to your side. “Um, the guy at HR said he sent up my info yesterday…I’ll be working directly underneath you?”

Directly underneath me. Kuroo is taking a sip of his coffee when you say this. He doesn’t spit it out, but it’s close.

[knuckles-apr]

Random Ging x Reader Headcanons

**NSFW warning. It’s tame, but still**

 +++ Say what you will about his hygiene, but Ging has the straightest teeth of anyone you've ever seen, and he never even had braces. He doesn’t take great care of them or anything, but he’s won the genetic lottery on this one 

+++ He keeps on trying to get pet fish, but always forgets to feed them, so they die. Sometimes, he’ll even throw away or donate the tank, only to a few months later, get back into the scene with new beta fish. He’s even accidentally named two different fish Puddles, but the hell if you’re saying anything about it 

+++ Animals do love him, but the only ones that can keep his attention are the ones that are dangerous. You frequently come home to a massive pile of shit on your front porch, and a popped blood vessel when you discover that he’s taken the bison inside. 

“What? Oh, don’t worry, I signed for your package. You should be nicer to me if you want me to keep on doing these kinds of favors for you” 

“Ging, there’s more than just my package on the front porch.” 

“...is this some kind of innuendo? I’m not following”

+++ For such a shy and independent man, Ging sure has a lot of friends. Most of whom he’s met while hunting, and almost all of whom are unsavory. He does have the decency to keep them in the garage, though, whenever they visit. And you make sure to keep the fridge out there stocked with beer so that there’s no reason Ging would need to come inside to get more while they’re around. Your memories are still haunted by the image of the garage door swinging open, revealing a poker table full of men with varying degrees of nakedness and drunkenness. 

“Hey, we ran out of peanut M&Ms.” 

“Ging! Shut the door, what the hell?!” 

“Oh, come on, he has a condition! He’s not into you, I swear” 

Even Ging, who was the most clothed, wasn’t leaving much to the imagination

+++ Poor Kite is cancelled on by Ging frequently. Although it seems like maybe an unspoken declaration of disinterest in the friendship, what it really boils down to it that that’s just the way Ging is; Kite is the only friend he has that’s close enough to be making plans with him, or else we would see that he would do the same to everyone in his friend pool

+++ As a result, whenever they make plans, Kite texts you just to let you know, because you both know he’s going to forget or try to weasel his way out of it the day of. 

“Ging, wake up, you and Kite are going to Oktoberfest today” 

“Mmmmm, tell him I’m sick” 

“Tell him yourself, he’s right here”

+++ Before you moved in, Ging exclusively slept on a beanbag, despite having a perfectly comfortable bed. Even now, sometimes you’ll wake up to an empty bed, and go make breakfast, only to find Ging in the living room, asleep on his beanbag and covered in goldfish crumbs

+++ This man legit still comes into a sock when jerking off. Stepping on a crispy sock every once in a while is just part of living with Ging. But that doesn’t mean you don’t yell at him every time it happens.

 “Come on, I left it in the corner of the room! It’s on you this time, I don’t care what you say”

+++ He carries everything in plastic bags. He’s never once invested in luggage or portable storage of any kind

+++ Ging loves gaming, but his taste is a little juvenile (if you can believe it). He is an avid X-Box fan, and will fight tooth and nail for it. He has an X-Box live membership and a gaming headset, and several online friends to play Call of Duty with at any given time. If you ever wonder where your cousin picked up all the swear words he’s been using, look no further than Ging

+++ Back when it was a thing, he bought gamer girl bathwater claiming it was a joke. Then why is it in your glass display case, Ging?

+++ Along with the gamer girl bathwater, Ging has collected many relics from the past; both from his hunting adventures, and his fleeting interests. Even though he isn’t a necessarily a sentimental or materialistic man, he does tend to keep some things around. But his habit of travelling light mixed with his abysmal taste makes it so that the things he keeps are usually ratty pieces of paper, small rocks and twigs, or in the rare case, a newspaper or magazine clipping

+++ Speaking of his abysmal taste, don’t let him find out about Ikea. Or HGTV. Or The Sims. Basically anything that would have him get interested in decoration. Before you came along, the man didn’t know he needed a shower curtain, and his mattress was just on the floor 

+++ And should we talk about his slight of hand magic phase? No, not this time. Wait, yes. He was really bad at it. Now if you talk about it he’ll give you the silent treatment for a couple of hours. Honestly, the real magic is getting him off your case for a little while

[nightingaelic]

Companions react to the Courier saying "shit, I think I left the Lightwave Dynamics Research Center running!" and teleporting to Big Mountain in front of them, then teleworking back a little later.

"Oh, shit."

The courier, who had been reading the map on their Pip-Boy to locate the best route over Mount Charleston, stopped in their tracks. "Maybe I...? No, I didn't. Ah, fuck it."

They fished some kind of energy pistol that was throwing off a dangerous blue light out of their pack and looked up at their companion. "I think I left the Lightwave Dynamics Research center running. Don't go anywhere, I'll be right back."

And with that, they vanished in a crack of lightning.

Arcade Gannon: "But we- Six!" Arcade stared at the spot where they had vanished. A hazy blue negative of their silhouette was burned into his retinas, and he took his glasses off to rub his eyes until it faded.

When the courier didn't reappear within a few minutes, Arcade sighed and sat down on the nearest large rock. His irritated expression, crossed arms and tousled blonde hair were the first things the courier saw when they finally flashed back onto the mountain.

"You'll be 'right back?'" Arcade asked, using his fingers to make air quotations.

"It was only 36 minutes," the courier said with a sheepish look. "I forgot Lightwave Dynamics was all the way across the crater, and I had to sneak around to avoid getting eaten by some night stalkers."

"I could've been eaten by some night stalkers!" Arcade argued. "Next time, you're taking me with you. I don't care if the Think Tank tries to turn me into a lobotomite, I'd prefer that to running afoul of a yao guai while you're skipping around the Big Empty like a brahmin calf!"

Craig Boone: Boone grumbled a bit, then scanned the area to look for cover. He found it in a nearby cluster of bushes, which he climbed inside and laid down his pack to sit on. He took his beret off and stowed it out of sight, then began inspecting his rifle to pass the time. He cleaned the scope out and listened for any snapping twigs or rustling leaves outside in the forest. Nothing moved though, and Boone nodded, pleased.

When the flash reappeared and the courier stumbled into the woods again, Boone whistled. They whipped their head around until they found the source of the signal and started toward it.

"Sorry," they said when they located him inside the brush. "That took longer than I thought it would."

Boone shrugged and stood up. "It's okay. Snipers and spotters aren't strangers to staying put."

Lily Bowen: "Pumpkin?" Lily looked around, but the courier was nowhere to be seen. "Pumpkin, did you go off to your make-believe world again like Leo?"

When no answer came back to her, Lily settled in on an overturned log with her hands on her knees. She hummed to herself, songs she had heard on the radio and songs that reminded her of a pretty hole in the ground that she wasn't sure was real anymore.

The grandmotherly nightkin was singing "Heartaches by the Number" when the courier reappeared as violently as they had vanished. They waited politely for her to finish the verse before offering her their hand. "Sorry, Lily. Should we keep going?"

Lily stood up and brushed herself off. "Of course, dearie."

Raul Alfonso Tejada: The old ghoul shook his head, then turned and kept going up the road. Jacobstown was only a mile away, and a light dusting of snow was beginning to fall by the time he made his way through the gates of the super mutant town and inside the old ski resort. Raul settled in at the bar, joining Calamity and Doc Henry for their mid-day meal.

When the courier finally pushed their way through the front doors of the lodge, Raul raised his bottle of beer to them. "Qué onda, Six? About time you showed up."

The courier looked madder than a deathclaw. "What the fuck, Raul?!? I thought you'd died out there in the woods, I was about ready to call for back-up!"

"I told you," Raul replied with a grin, "Next time you did that to me, I'd keep walking."

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: "Oh, fucking hell." Cass looked around the immediate vicinity with mild trepidation rising in her chest. She didn't know the area well, and forests were great hiding spots for critters that meant harm. If she'd been in the middle of the desert flats, she would've felt much more at home: At least out there, you could see anything that intended to disembowel you coming from miles away.

Cass eyed one of the sturdier nearby trees suspiciously, debating whether climbing it was worth the effort. She was halfway up the trunk, grunting with the effort, when the courier reappeared in another flash and startled her into a state of imbalance.

"Cass!" The courier dropped their transportalponder and rushed to stand beneath her, arms out.

"You gonna catch me?" Cass asked with a nervous giggle, wobbling on a thin branch that was dangerously close to snapping.

"I can try. Jump!"

Cass obliged, just as the branch beneath her cracked. She and the courier tumbled to the needle-covered ground. The two lay still for a moment, inspecting their new bruises. Cass picked up her hat and jammed it back onto her head. "Don't even ask, Six."

Veronica Santangelo: But Veronica was ready this time. As soon as the courier had retrieved the transportalponder from their pack, she had inched nonchalantly closer, taking advantage of their distraction. Her arm flashed out and grabbed the courier's elbow just as they pressed the device's trigger, and the whoosh of the teleportation process was almost loud enough to drown out their surprised yelp.

It felt like only a millisecond had passed when the beam of light dissipated, and Veronica blinked in wonder. Gone were the trees of Mount Charleston, replaced by a wide-open sky over a jagged edge of rock that encircled a cluster of pre-war concrete buildings. Lights blinked and emanated from their doors and windows, distorted somewhat by the glowing force field that encircled the balcony that Veronica and the courier were standing on.

"Goddammit, Veronica," the courier said, putting their head in their hand. "I told you, I didn't know whether it could sustain two passengers or not! You could've disintegrated or something!"

"Well, that's one hypothesis tested." Veronica tentatively reached a hand out to feel the warmth of the force field. "It's beautiful."

ED-E: The eyebot bobbed in place, running systems checks and diagnostic repairs under the conifers until the electric pulse delivered the courier back into the forest. ED-E beeped its satisfaction, then followed it up with a questioning series of tones.

"Holograms," the courier answered, straightening out their coat. "At least, I think that's all they did there, but I'm not sure. I made the mistake of touching this huge beam of light in the middle of the place once and it knocked me out. Lost about half a day, and I still don't know what it's for."

Rex: The smell of ozone filled Rex's nostrils. He sneezed a few times to clear it out, then began sniffing the area the courier had disappeared from. No amount of whining brought them back though, so he stamped a hollow out in the crook of some tree roots and settled in among the fallen pine needles.

When the scent of ozone and the courier returned, Rex's eyes flew open. There was another scent accompanying them, a familiar amalgamation: Fur, cybernetics, warm blood.

The courier looked down fondly at the new cyberdog, who was regarding Rex with sweet, brown eyes and a nose just as keen as his. "Rex, meet Roxie."

[theghostofblackbunnymask]

Even A Devil Can Break- Chapter 1 (Y!Casino! Quackity x Female Reader

Even A Devil Can Break- Chapter 1 (Y!Casino! Quackity x Female Reader

Chapter 1 (Currently Reading) Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 (In The Works)

Summary Of The Story- Y/N was friends with Quackity ever since they were kids, but once Las Nevadas gets formed Quackity finds out about Y/N's greatest strength, which makes him use her for his own benefit, not caring if he traumatized his main obsession.\

Summary Of Chapter- Just small parts of childhood and the rest is when they’re adults.

Word count- 1,495

Warnings- manipulation, Blackmail, Schlatt (His character can be triggerng)

Author’s Note- This is based on the characters they play, NOT the people themselves

    Y/N walked out of her home with their torn up black and white bunny in their hands, their mother, Hope, telling them to be back before sundown. Y/N’s devil-like tail swung back and forth as she walked into the beautiful forest that was nearby. Her brother, Ben, older than her by 5 years, was in a nearby Village hanging out with his friends, and her mother and father were baking in the kitchen. Y/N sat at the beautiful stream that was far into the forest, watching fish and squid go by.      Y/N heard twigs being broken, and it was coming from a big tree next to her, she looked up and out came a yellow winged boy. The boy looked up and Y/N’s unreadable face and her tail swung in curiosity, her horns glowing F/C, and her small demon wings going up a bit.

“Hello!” The boy said.

“I’m Quackity! But you can call me Big Q if you want, what’s your name?” The boy named Quackity asked, Y/N pausing before responding.

“Y/N, Y/N L/N,” Y/N said, before looking back at the stream.

    There was an awkward silence after the two hybrids introduced themselves, and Quackity decided to break it.

“I have something cool to show you, wanna see?”

     Y/N thought for a moment, but was cut off by 1 of her 2 demons, Emotional.

“DON’T GO, HE’S GONNA KILL US!” The pastel colored demon exclaimed, black tears falling from his eyes, only Y/N could see them, which bothered her.

“Ok,” Y/N said, following Quackity while ignoring Emotional’s cries.

    They walked for about 30 minutes, getting deeper into the forest. Quackity moved a bush and showed Y/N a stash of weapons and potions.

“What are these for?” Y/N asked, confused on why he had so many.

“When you live alone in the wild, you can never be too safe, and also mobs.”

“Mobs?”

“Yeah! You do know what mobs are, right?”

    Y/N stared at him before slowly shaking their head, mouthing no. Quackity grabbed one of the iron swords and gave it to Y/N, along with a healing potion.

“Take these home and meet me here again tonight,” Quackity said eagerly.

“Why?” Y/N asked, confused.

“You’re going to fight some mobs!”

“Ok…” Y/N said, looking down at the sword as it showed their face.

    Y/N waved goodbye as the sun began to set, Quackity fastly waved goodbye until Y/N could no longer be seen.

“A friend…” ---------------     Y/N was in her middle school math class, her teacher, Mr. Harris, talking about lord knows what, while Y/N was starting to fall asleep, one of their friends, F/N, kicked the back of her chair.

“OW, what the hell, F/N?!” Y/N whisper yelled, her tail going straight to their friend's neck. “Look,” F/N said, pointing to the doorway to see Quackity beckoning Y/N to follow him.      Y/N sighed before lowering her tail and turned to look at F/N.

“Cover me,” Y/N said, before running out of the classroom.

“Y/N L/N GET BACK HERE!” Mr. Harris yelled.

“MR. HARRIS, Y/N has been really sick lately and they said she felt like she was about to throw up, so maybe that’s why she left.”

“Oh…” Mr. Harris said in embarrassment, before going back to teaching.

     Y/N grabbed Quackity by his shoulders before looking at him annoyed.

“What do you want, Big Q…”

“We’re skipping.”

“And, look at this,” Quackity said, pulling out an invitation.

“It’s from Schlatt,” Quackity said.

“He wants us to come to his party.”

“Ok…” Y/N said, uninterested.

“Q, are you sure he invited me? You’re friends with him, not me.”

“He said to bring you, see,” Quackity said, handing her the letter.

“Imagine how popular and powerful we’ll be if people see we’re hanging out with him,” Quackity said while Y/N read the letter.

“It’s just petty middle and high school popularity Quackity, it won’t mean anything when we’re adults.”

     Quackity looked at Y/N with a hint of anger in his eyes, before going back to normal.

“Y/N… It’s not just some ‘petty’ high school popularity, Schlatt’s family are pretty powerful, being friends with him can benefit you, Y/N,” Quackity said, putting his arm over Y/N’s shoulder, smirking sinisterly, but Y/N was too busy reading to see it.

    Sighing, Y/N agreed to go, before following Quackity off of school grounds.

“We’re going to be in trouble,” Y/N said.

“And?” Quackity asked.

“My parents have been saying they keep getting calls from the school about us sneaking out.”

“Hm,” Quackity said, amused. ------------

     Y/N walked down the halls of her high school while Schlatt and Quackity ranted about one of their classmates, Wilbur. Y/N couldn’t care less about what they were saying, she was too busy with their thoughts.

“You listening?” A gruff voice asked, in an annoyed tone.

“Schlatt…”

“Yeah, what do you want?”      When the trio turned the corner, the halls were packed.

“Rush hour…” Quackity mumbled.

“Yep,” Schlatt said.

    While the trio walked towards the lunch room, people turned their heads to look at the group. Y/N, Quackity and Schlatt were what people called a threat. And this made them the most popular kids in school, much to Y/N’s dismay and Quackity’s excitement. The trio noticed it got quiet all of a sudden and noticed people were staring at them.

“What?!” Schlatt said, making everyone run off.

“Freshmen…” Quackity said.

“Tell me about it,” Y/N agreed. ------------

      Y/N was with her pet fox, Ham. When she allowed Ham to run off, she sat down at a tree and sighed, putting her mask down as she looked up at the pitch black sky. When Ham came back running, she became on guard.

“What’s wrong Ham?” She asked, picking him up as she stood up confused.

“Well, Well, Well, long time no see.”

 Y/N lifted her mask up with a face filled with disgust and confusion. When she saw ram horns come into frame, her face turned into anger.

“What do you want, Schlatt? I told you I want nothing to fucking do with you, and you fucking scared Ham.”

“Ham? That’s a ridiculous name.”

“It isn’t that bad, Schlatt,” A familiar voice from the shadows said as the came into frame, Quackity.

“What do you two want, I know you didn’t go looking for me for any other reason than you needing something.”

“As you may not know, knowing how much you hate politics, I’m running for president of L’manburg-”

“Like you’re going to win.”

“Oh I will… But anyways, I have a proposition for you.”

“Which is?”

“I want you to be my assistant.”

Ham let out a laugh sounding scream while Y/N let out a wheeze.

“Like I would, I knew you were dumb but I didn’t think you were THIS dumb.”

“Oh, when did I say I was asking?”

“Huh?” Y/N asked, turning around.

“Quackity,” Schlatt said, sticking his hand out.

“Should we really do this? I mean-”

“Shut up. Give me the goddamn thing.”

       Quackity hesitantly handed him a file, which Schlatt snatched from his hands.

“There is something I found quite interesting about you Y/N.”

“Like what?”

“Your brother.”

        Y/N froze, her tail going straight up.

“Got her…”

“From the looks of it, you killed your brother during the war for L’manburg’s independence, completely by will.”

“How did yo-”

“It would be quite a shame if this were to, I don’t know, be told to the public.”

      Y/N gripped Ham as she looked down at the ground in shame. Schlatt grabbed Y/N’s face so she could look at him.

“So, if you want your secret between the three of us, you’ll work for me.”

“Fine,” Y/N said, yanking her head the other way before walking off, flipping the ram and duck hybrid off.

“Did we really have to do that?” Quackity asked as the two walked back.

“It’s worked in the past, why wouldn’t it work again?”

“You’re right.”

[sweetkingdomstarlight-blog]

“Maybe if I punish you it’ll help you remember who you belong to next time.” with Bucky hunting down reader after she tries to run away after she breaks up with him

Pairings - Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count - 1706

Warnings - kidnap, forced drug use, oral (f receiving)

A/N - thanks to the wonderful @buckyownsmylife for beta reading this and just being an all round sweetheart. Thanks also to @dreamslikeaheartbeat for the prompt, if you don’t already go follow her she’s so talented. If you are under 18 then please shoo

You feel the crunch of the leaves under your feet as you run, the twigs ripping through your soft skin as you push forward. It's quiet, too quiet.

Working at the tower was everything you’d ever wanted, you’d worked so hard to get where you were and developing tech with Shuri and Peter was your actual dream. You started out small, working on comms, it didn’t take long for you to advance and under Shuri’s watchful eyes you amended the arm of a certain super soldier. He came to the lab once a week so you could test new ideas and he was always so helpful, even bringing you coffee and occasionally books you two had discussed.

It had been three months since you first worked with him and for two of those he wanted to work with only you. Shuri agreed it would be good for you to have a little freedom and handed over his files. Bucky was funny, sweet and charming, not the impression you were given of him from Peter, who was still a little scared of him after the airport incident.

One afternoon he arrived and looked a little nervous, producing a bunch of flowers from behind his back you looked at him curiously. “Hey, come out with me tonight, Sam told me about this place a few blocks from here. You’re always cooped up in here, let me thank you for making my arm even better.” Your cheeks warmed up at the thought of spending time with him outside of the tower but he caught it. “Is that little smile you’re trying to hide a yes?” He pressed, trying to make eye contact with you.

You nodded and looked at him. “That would be nice, thanks Bucky.” He relaxed and handed you the bouquet. “I’ll pick you up at 7.” He turned and walked out, you watched as he went round the corner before running to beg for the rest of the day off.

You hear the knock at your door at exactly 7oclock and chuckle to yourself at how punctual he was. Opening the door and stepping aside, you let him in and watch as he immediately surveys your apartment for exits. “I'll be a few minutes just make yourself at home,” you say before quickly moving to your bedroom to finish getting ready. You hear him in your front room, shuffling around and when you come back he’s looking through your bookcase.

“Wow doll, you look stunning, give me a little twirl.” Biting your lip at the compliment, you turn on the spot and try to calm your heart as he whistles at you. “Don’t know how I got so lucky to meet you.” You quickly take a drink of the wine you left on the side finishing the glass when you start to feel a little dizzy, stumbling into his arms. “I’ve got you, looks like you had a little too much. Let me help you.” The room suddenly goes black.

Waking up, you don’t know how long it’s been but you’re in an unfamiliar room, your head is pounding and you’re laying down on a bed. You try to sit up and realise your arms are secured to the posts. “Hey, you’re finally awake, don’t mind the rope, I had to tie you up to keep you safe.” You look around to see where the voice is coming from but you don’t see him anywhere.

“Bucky?” you manage to croak out, your dry throat making it near impossible to speak. He rushes over to you and strokes your cheek to soothe you, unaware that it has the opposite effect. “Bucky can you undo me please, I need to use the bathroom.” He nods and pulls the rope off, walking you to the bathroom but stopping you from closing the door. Looking up at him confused he glares at you, daring you to challenge him.

Washing your face, you keep watch from the corner of your eye. “I know you're watching me, doll.” Stalking over, he takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of your hair. “You looked so good tonight doll, I didn't want to share you with the rest of the world.” Looking at you in the mirror. “You want that too, don’t you? I see the way you look at me, at this arm.” He wraps his hand around your throat gently but leaves you no room to move.

You watch his face as it warps from the Bucky you know to something else entirely. “Bucky, what are you doing?” He grips tighter and leans in, growling in your ear. “No questions, do as you’re told and we can be very happy.” Holding your breath, a tear rolls down your cheek, he smirks and swipes it away, licking it off his thumb. “Mmm so sweet doll, we are going to have so much fun.” With that, he leaves and closes the door behind him.

You take a deep breath, almost hyperventilating from the fear coursing through your body. Looking around for something to use as a weapon, you notice he's cleared the room, the window is bolted shut. You are trapped.

You leave the small room and hear him calling you from somewhere in the house. Following his voice you find him making pancakes in the kitchen. You can’t see any knives or much of anything really to help you, surveying the room around you, it quickly becomes clear that you’re in some sort of cabin.

Outside the windows all you can see is trees, the sun is up too, just how long were you unconscious? “I’m making breakfast, you must be starving. There’s some pain relief on the counter, I'm sure you’ve got a sore head.” You nod and pick up the pack, inspecting it for any tampering. “Come on, doll! We’ve already established that if I want to drug you, I can do that very easily.”

Your heart pounds and he chuckles to himself. “Calm down, I can hear you from over here.” You take the pills with a glass of orange and sit down at the table while he serves you up a plate. “Eat up, you’re going to need your energy”.

The next week goes by in a blur of ‘domestic bliss’. You’re playing along, observing his daily pattern and making a plan. He doesn’t sleep at night, preferring to watch you rest, he does have a nap everyday but it usually only lasts around 30 mins. Each day you work on a different window, slowly pulling out the nails without leaving any marks before pushing them back in so he doesn’t suspect anything.

Getting a call from Steve later that week, he goes to the end of the garden so you don’t hear him, taking your chance you run. Rushing through the trees, you can’t see anything that looks like freedom so you push forward.

You haven’t had anything that even closely resembles shoes the whole time you’ve been held captive and each step you take shoots more and more pain through your soles. Seeing a lake up ahead, you charge towards it, leaping over a tree trunk when you’re caught mid jump. “Oh hey, doll, leaving so soon? We haven’t even begun to have any fun yet. Did you think I wouldn’t notice all the windows and doors had been tampered with?” Throwing you over his shoulder and he began marching back to the cabin.

You struggle as he throws you on the bed, ripping your clothes off and tying you up. “Where did you think you were going? I’ve told you already, you belong to me now.” He cups one of your breasts before painfully pinching and stretching your nipple. “I could make this feel very good for you, all you have to do is ask”. You shake your head and squeeze your eyes shut, gasping out when he slaps your face. “Look at me you, little bitch.” Looking up at him, your eyes get blurry from the unshed tears that form.

“Just be a good girl for me and we won’t have any trouble.” You nod at him, terrified, and try to move away when he moves lower down your body, his nose nudging around your curls before spreading you open and licking your juices. “Mmm... you taste so good doll, I know you want this, you just have to relax.” Your back arches off the bed as he sucks your clit into his mouth, flicking at it with his tongue. Your orgasm builds higher and higher, your body feels as though it's on fire but he stops and you moan out in frustration. He smirks up at you, pushing one of his vibranium fingers into you and curling it just right. “Say the words and I'll make you feel good,” echoing his words from earlier.

You shake your head again and screw your eyes shut, trying to regulate your breathing and calm yourself down when you feel his mouth on you again. “No please, I can’t,” you practically scream out at him as he expertly takes you apart again, taking you to the brink but not letting you fall over.

“Say it, say you’re mine and I'll let you cum doll, it's simple.” You sob fat heavy tears, your whole body feeling sensitive. Shaking his head at you, he dives back in, you clench your fists together, trying to command your body to let you finish before he stops but he already knows you too well and he stops once again.

“Please Bucky, I’m yours I swear I’m all yours.” He smirks and slowly rubs a finger on your clit, your body responding to the touch, your back arches and your toes curl. You're close, so fucking close it almost hurts but he pulls back and slaps your pussy hard.

“Maybe if I punish you it’ll help you remember who you belong to next time.” He spits in your face before turning his head and welcoming Steve. “This is the girl I told you about, she’s ready,” he says with a sense of pride in his voice. You turn your head and sob when you see Steve beginning to undress and walk towards you grinning.

[bellarkeselection]

Sky-ground treaty.

- set 3 months after 2x16.

- To avoid another war Kane and Abby make a peace treaty with the grounders commander, Lexa. A marriage between one of their own and princess Y/n L/n of Polis, Lexa's adopted daughter.

Bellamy's POV

The chancellor's doors open for me to see Kane and Clarke's mom sitting at the round table. "Hello Mr. Blake, we have something to discuss with you." She spoke. I'd just returned from another mission to find Clarke, but we couldn't find her. I miss her as does her mom.

Standing in front of the table eye the map we marked for Clarke's search. Kane rose from his seat. "I know what I'm about to say is a sore subject for you, but I think we could make peace with the grounders once and for all."

I scoff throwing my hands out at the idea. "Peace with them. Lexa left our people to die in the mountain. Clarke and I had to kill people who helped us. She made her kill Finn, one of our own. I don't think they know peace. Any treaty we make with them...they'll end up breaking!"

"We have to try. We all faced loses against Mount Weather." Abby trails off eyeing Kane. "Bellamy, Lexa has agreed to a union between one of our own and the adapted daughter of the commander, Princess Y/n."

Lexa has a daughter. How come we didn't know that before. The word union runs through my head. "Union as in...marriage?"

"Yes. A marriage." Abby gets to her feet coming to rest a hand on my shoulder, a weak smile on her face.

Running my hands down my face I groan." Who do we pick?" Abby jumped in walking towards the outer door to go back to medical. "We already have, Marcus come find me later."

He nods his head at her, smiling at the doctor. The pair have always had an unspoken relationship. "The man chosen to marry the young princess is..." Kane trailed off holding a scared yet serious face. "You."

Seriously. I have to marry a grounder!

Y/n's pov

"Marriage mother, to a man I've never met!" I rant back to my mother. The commander of grounders. My parents were killed by the Mountain Men so she took me in as her own. Although I've never seen the outside beyond this city, Polis is the only home I've ever known.

Mother comes to rest her hands on my shoulder tucking some loose hair from my braid behind my ear. "Honey, Bellamy Blake is very loyal. He'll be good for you, and as princess you must serve your people." Our people think spilling blood is a good thing.

"Yes mother. For our people." I simply nod in agreement.

Sunset has come on the city only light from the burning torches in my room which is on the fifth floor of this large tower. Mother has been in meetings with her dellgates all day over this treaty with the Sky people or Skaikru as some call them. Sneaking through the halls I finally reach the secret tunnel under the tower where my horse is saddled up. I'm wearing muddy pants with a dress that reaches above my knees. The dress is simple, light green colors. My bow and arrow hung over my shoulder that matches the brown color of my boots. Mounting my horse I escape the tunnel riding free through the woods, now with the Moutain Men gone we can freely roam the woods in our territory.

Stopping at a cleaning with a creek I listen to sounds of the woods until some twigs snap, drawing my bow I see a boy aiming a riffle at me. "Identity yourself shooter!" If he shoots me grounders and sky people would be in another war. He's clearly a sky person because only they use guns and he's wearing a jacket with their clans symbol on the shoulders.

"I've learned to only ever trust one grounder, he's my sister's boyfriend. So tell me who you are before I shoot you." The man threatened stepping a few feet closer giving me a better look. The man has black curly hair, toned skin with freckles. His eyes lock with mine for me to fall in love at seeing they're dark brown like chocolate.

"Alright, don't shoot please." I slowly remove my bow dropping it to the ground and dismounting my horse. "See unarmed. Mr. Stranger, my name is Y/n." I hold my hands up standing still in fear he'll shoot.

The strange man slowly lowers his gun, a look of confusion or shock on his face. But I can't exactly tell. "Did you say Y/n. As in the princess?" I slowly shake my head yes watching him take a few steps closer, where we are at arms length.

"Who are you?" I question having to tilt my head up since he's taller than I am. "I'm Bellamy, Bellamy Blake."

Holly crap. I just met the man I'm to marry for peace.

Part 2 coming soon, if requested will be posted sooner.

Part 3 will be made if requested.

[willsimpforanyone]

Hey there! Ok, first of all, your writing is ABSOLUTELY FLAWLESS 🤩!!! Okay, on to the actual request now. Could you plz write a Heroes of Olympus fic with the seven (plus Reyna, Thalia, Nico and Will) X fem!reader who is a daughter of Khione (Greek goddess of snow)? R is struggling with controlling her powers cause they r linked to her emotions. Individually each character helps her with her powers in some way. Thanks! (Idk if that made sense btw but hopefully it makes sense!) okay, bye!!

no stop you're so sweet!! thank you so much omg

i can absolutely do that- for context, we're gonna say that the camp jupiter kids are visiting

i haven't given R a name and i refuse to use y/n

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The camp was huge and busy and full of people. She was overwhelmed, her breaths coming in sharp, shallow bursts. Steam blew around her as her freezing breath met the warm air and her hands fisted in her skirt. She wasn't gonna panic, she couldn't panic with all these people around, gods there were so many people in this stupid little tour group and oh shit she was panicking. She could see tiny flakes of snow start to flutter down around her, settling on everyone's skin. They started looking around and up at the sky and her nails dug into her cold skin as they finally turned and looked at her, the light snow turning into larger flakes and increasing in number. Within seconds there was a blizzard spanning six feet squared. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying her hardest to calm down. A hand touched her own, and a voice reached her ears, muffled by the snow. "Hey, I'm Percy, is it okay if I touch you?" She forced herself to nod, and Percy pulled her gently away from the group. As soon as there were fewer people, she could breathe a little easier. "We're away from everyone else, it's okay, can you open your eyes for me?" Her eyes opened and met green eyes and black hair and an encouraging smile. "Take some deep breaths, that's it, you're doing great." Her breathing became more regular. "It's overwhelming for a lot of people, that's okay. You're safe now that you're here, I promise." The blizzard had all but stopped, just a few flakes brushed off her hair by Percy's caring hand. "It's okay, we don't have to go back until you're ready." She would be ready in a little bit.

The forest was quiet. She liked the quiet. She knew she hadn't been avoided, exactly, but it was hard to feel that way when there wasn't anyone sitting at her table. No one talked to her, but it was just because she was new. Talking to new people was awkward, she knew that. So it was her choice, and her choice alone, to go sit in the woods. She didn't know why there were tears down her cheeks, and she hated that they froze on her skin. A snapped twig made her look up sharply. There were two people in front of her. The girl sat down next to her. "It's cold out, why are you sitting out here?" She shrugged. "Don't really feel the cold. And it's either being alone out here or alone in a cabin so it doesn't really matter." She gave a small smile. The guy sat next to the girl. "You're the daughter of Khione, right? No wonder you feel lonely," he turned to the girl. "Hazel, there's no one else in her cabin." Hazel gasped and rubbed her shoulder. "Come with us. We'll see if you can be moved to my cabin, there's only me and my brother in there." "Oh, I couldn't do that to you," she said, but the warmth of hope and companionship bloomed in her chest. "If you really don't want to, that's okay, but at least come with us to the campfire, come with me and Frank." Hazel's soft smile melted away the resistance, and Frank stood up, offering his hand. She stood, using the hand held out, and followed the pair. Frank held her back a moment while Hazel joined the group of ten, twelve-ish people around a campfire. "If you really don't want to join, it's okay, I'll take you back to your cabin, I promise." He smiled warmly and a little nervously. "But it might be fun. Coming?" She smiled back, and walked towards the promised warmth.

Hunched shoulders, her ears were being assulted with jeers and taunts. Loser, loner, ice freak, anti-freeze. That one wasn't even right. The small table felt a lot bigger when she was the only one there, but she was getting used to that. It didn't help that the Ares cabin was very loud. To be fair, it wasn't the whole cabin, just the very loud minority. She tried to remind herself of that when she got called all these names. The table was covered in a heavy frost, the cutlery in her hands was cold and clutched tightly. She took a few deep breaths. There was minimal snow, and she smiled to herself. She was gaining a little more control. A plate slamming onto the table made her jump, and she looked up to see sharp blue eyes and a shock of black hair, piercings decorating ears. The girl sat next to her, scowling at the Ares cabin. "Hey! Leave her alone, assholes!" The girl turned to you. "I'm Thalia, ignore them." She smiled at Thalia. "Thanks, but you don't have to be here." "It's no problem," Thalia shrugged. "My brother is at his girlfriend's table so I was alone anyway and you looked like you could use a little help." That normally would have made her defensive, but Thalia seemed more protective than pitying. "...thank you, I'm not good at confrontation." She frowned. "Sorry about the... ice." Thalia shrugged. "I struggled too. And being the daughter of Zeus, my power was a lot more destructive than yours, trust me," she grinned. She felt less self-conscious with this strong, angry girl next to her.

The rings of seats surrounding the dead campfire were cold. There was a light layer of frost, but she was too tired to know if it was because of her or just the chill of the night. The nightmare had been bad, and waking up in an icy cabin alone hadn't helped. The outside had seemed warmer, more welcoming, and as she looked up she could see the stars. The campfire was central to the camp, she felt like she could check every direction. For example, the second she heard footsteps coming from the left, she snapped her head to see another girl, wrapped in a blanket and walking with determination towards her. The girl sat firmly beside her. "You're the kid of Khione, the one Frank and Hazel introduced us to the other night, right?" "...yeah," and suddenly she remembered the girl's name. "You're Piper, right? Daughter of Aphrodite?" Piper nodded. "Yep. What's up, why you out here?" She shrugged. There was no stigma around nightmares in the camp, everyone got them, but she still wasn't comfortable going into detail. "Just a nightmare, didn't want to stay in the cabin." Piper made a noise of understanding. "Me too," she shivered. "The frost natural or you?" She laughed ruefully. "Not sure, to be honest." She ran a hand through her hair, and it came away covered in ice. "Although judging by that, I'd say a good portion of it is me." Piper stood up. "Stay here, I'll be back in a minute." She grabbed her blanket and ran back to her cabin, returning with a larger blanket and a wide-toothed comb. "Can I get the ice and frost out of your hair?" Surprised, she nodded hesitatingly. Piper sat cross-legged on the wooden seat by her side and wrapped the blanket around them both, gesturing for her to turn round. "I'll be gentle, I promise. It'll calm us both down, then you can get the frost under control."

The sword shattered yet again and she threw the hilt on the ground, yelling in anger. She barely noticed the two others in the arena, too focused on the fact that the blade of her sword had gotten so cold it had broken- this was the third time. Every time she got into her training and concentrated too hard, ice spread from her hands to the sword and it was only a matter of time before she shattered it. "Hey, stop throwing stuff on the ground, kids train here." A harsh female voice came from across the arena, and she flinched. Turning, she recognised the pair- Jason and Reyna, they must be training. "Sorry, I'm sorry, I'll clean it up." She frowned, kneeling and picking up the remnants of her sword. Jason jogged over, followed slowly by Reyna. He knelt down too, helping with the jagged edges. "It's okay, what's got you so worked up?" She sighed. "If the metal gets too cold, it breaks. I get freezing if I concentrate too hard on fighting, apparently, so I've broken three swords in the past two hours." Reyna grabbed the discarded sword hilt, examining it. "You know, you should find a specific sword for your abilities." "You can do that?" Jason and Reyna nodded. "Yeah, mine turns into either a sword or a spear depending on the flip of a coin," Jason explained. "I'm sure we could find something that can withstand low temperatures." Reyna frowned, considering. "I'm sure if you asked Chiron he'd figure something out. Although maybe you should work on controlling the temperature issue." Jason's eyes lit up. "Hey, you should go see Leo! Remember him from the campfire the last week? He's always too hot, but he's great at changing his body temperature. Go see him tomorrow!" Reyna nodded her approval. She smiled. Okay, let's go see Leo.

"Um, hey, Jason said you could help me?" She knocked on the open door of the Hephaestus cabin, settling her eyes on the curly-haired kid- Leo- screwing around with bits of metal on the floor. He leapt up, scattering metal everywhere. "Yes! Hello! I remember you from the campfire, Piper said you'd be knocking on my humble door." She grinned as he approached, hands still fiddling with a screwdriver. "She was right, she recommended I talk to you about helping with my heat regulation?" Leo practically vibrated with enthusiam. "Yeah! I'm always hot-" he winked, she laughed. "-but it took me a while to regulate it, so I wasn't spontaneously bursting into flames. May I?" He held out his hands for hers. They were searing hot against her freezing skin, and she yanked them away. Leo pulled away too, a dismayed look on his face. "Uh, okay, too hot, got it. I'll lower my temperature as best I can." She placed her hands back in his, the difference a little less painful this time as she breathed deeply. "Sorry, it was just a little surprising, I wasn't aware of how cold I was." Leo shook his head, and pulled her further into the room. "Don't worry chica, you'll get the hang of it. Don't concentrate on the hands, focus on the feeling inside," he nodded towards a small bench, and they sat down. "Think of your body as a... car. If the hood it hot, you open it up and cool down the engine, right?" Nodding, she relaxed her shoulders and hands. "Got it, focus on the internal cooling issue rather than the results." That earned her an encouraging squeeze of her hands. They sat together for an hour, maybe two. She could almost increase and decrease her temperature at will. Leo taught her a weird handshake, where they changed temperature every time their hands met. "Thank you so much, Leo," she grinned, getting up to leave. "No hay problema, I'm glad I could help," he lightly punched her shoulder. "And hey, any time I need to cool down, I know who to come to."

The tiny ice towers sparkled in the sun, almost looking like crystal. She was curious- she'd come so far from the girl who caused a snowstorm at the slightest anxiety, so how much control was she capable of? The ice was sharpened to a point, but there wasn't much distinction between the small structures. There was someone who could help, with a mind almost as sharp as her ice. "Hey Annabeth? Can I steal your attention for a second?" The girl looked up from her Ancient Greek book, and smiled upon seeing her friend. "Sure, come in, what's up?" She walked towards Annabeth, sitting next to her on the bed. "You're good with architecture, right?" "'Good' is an understatement," Annabeth nudged her in the ribs. "But yes, architecture is kind of my thing." "Can you help with my power? I think I can control it better now, but I need a guideline- can you draw up a blueprint or something for me to model out of ice?" Annabeth's eyes sparkled as brightly as ice in the sun, and she darted to her desk, grabbing graph paper and a pencil. "We can experiment with different temperatures and thicknesses of the ice-" starting to spout facts about architectural structures and buildings. "Annabeth, this is awesome, but just know you have to be patient with me," she said. "I need a lot of practice." Sitting back down on the bed, Annabeth wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "I know, but we can do it. It'll be awesome."

"Hey! Over here!" Will beckoned her over. She smiled and jogged over and into the medical tent. "Hey Will, what's up?" She gave a small wave to the shadowy boy next to him. "Hey Nico." She recieved a vague nod in return. Will gestured to a kid, maybe eight or nine, holding his wrist sitting on a camper bed. "We've run out of ice packs, and we're waiting on an order of ambrosia and nectar so can you do me a favour?" She shrugged. "What do you need?" His next words came as a surprise. "I need snowballs." Laughing, she nodded. "Okay, sure, how many?" Nico kicked an ice box next to him. "Fill this." She nodded, and started creating lumps of snow, balling them up in her palms and chucking them into the box. The kid stared, fascinated. She grinned, pausing her snowball-making to blow a flurry of snowflakes in the kid's face, eliciting a delighted laugh. The slight smile on Nico's face didn't go unnoticed. She leaned into Will. "Hey, get Nico to summon a skeleton outside the tent." "What? Why?" She whispered a plan into his ear, and Will giggled. He grabbed his boyfriend by the arm and dragged him outside. She kept making snowballs and entertaining the kid with snowflakes until Will grabbed her arms and pulled her outside, a huge smile on his face. "Come on, come on, do it!" Will jumped up and down excitedly. Nico raised an eyebrow, but smiled fondly. "What did you want the skeleton for?" She grinned, and pushed her hands forward, snow flying from her hands and surrounding the skeleton. Bones clad in thick snow and from somewhere Will produced a carrot. Nico rolled his eyes, but took out two solid black earrings to stick into the face of the snowman for eyes. Together, she and Nico manipulated the snowman to walk into the medical tent, and from within came screams of delight- it was Christmas in August.

She felt home.

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this took me so long and my shoulder is killing me but i did it! i very much hope you enjoyed, thank you so much for requesting!

[jinmukangwrites]

succumb (1/?)

Note: "?" because I don't know if I'm actually going to continue this. All I know is that I saw this post from Liccy and couldn't stop thinking about it (hopefully you don't mind me leeching a little off of your fantastic hc). I just had to write something or else I wouldn't be able to stop thinking about it. Unless I decide to make more of this, I'll keep this just in Tumblr for now.

Summary: While collecting firewood after a harsh day of traveling, Wild and Hyrule find themselves ambushed and alone, facing a mysterious enemy that wants Hyrule for something Wild doesn't understand... or more specifically: they want Hyrule's blood.

Tws and warnings in tags

-o-o-o-o-

It’s a night filled with the chill of air fresh after rain. The damp grass and twigs lining the ground below the still dripping trees squish below Wild’s boots as he walks, his eyes sharp for anything that could be useful.

Today’s been a rather taxing day on his energy, and he can tell it’s been the same with the others. The constant rain has caused the paths to become slick with mud and the rivers too dangerous to cross. To top it all off, they don’t even know who’s world they are in; making it so that as they journey they don’t even know where they are going.

Wild hates the rain.

But luckily, he’s not assigned with the behemoth task of finding dry firewood alone. Hyrule walks beside him, his pants and tunic blotched with dark colors thanks to the puddle he had fallen into a few minutes before.

The quite literal stumbles here and there put aside… they’ve actually done a decent job at gathering firewood so far. A few hours into their search they both have arms cradling rather hefty loads of dry twigs and branches found in miracle spots hiding under rocks and undergrowth, untouched from the rain.

A cold win stirs, causing Wild to suppress a shiver as he straightens out of picking up another stick to add to his impressive collection. He probably should have worn a warmer tunic while heading out, but Wind was looking miserable in the cold and didn’t look used to this kind of chill, so he had lent his snowquill tunic and didn’t have the heart to take it back as the poor kid sat sniffling in the driest part of camp.

Wild mentally begins to make a list of things he has that could go in a warming soup once they have a fire going. If none of them have colds tomorrow morning, he will eat Legend’s hat.

“We should head back,” Wild calls towards his companion. Behind him, Hyrule straightens up from where he was quite hilariously resembling an old man squatting down to pick up a book they have dropped. His arms are overloaded with wood, and Wild’s sure if he bends any lower he would be struggling to pick up the sticks he will undoubtedly start dropping.

“You think we have enough?” Hyrule asks.

Wild hums and looks at the two armfuls they have gathered. They need enough to last them for dinner and through the night, and a little extra if the fire happens to go out from unpredictable rain storms through the night. It’s not like Wild’s scars would be able to help him tell the oncoming storms; they’ve been none-stop aching since they found themselves in this unfamiliar forest.

After a moment of sizing up their bundles, Wild nods. “Yeah, if we’re smart with it we shouldn’t have to worry.”

Hyrule snorts. “Smart with it? Tell that to the blacksmith. He’s the one that tried to light Vet’s hair on fire.”

“In his defense, Vet kinda deserved it.”

“He accidentally caught Wolfie’s tail on fire.”

Wild snorts. “To be fair, he kinda deserved it too.”

Hyrule gives an unimpressed look to which Wild responds with a grin and as much of a shrug he can manage without dropping anything. The wind brushes past them and through the leaves in the trees, reminding them both that the night is approaching and banter can perhaps wait until they’re warm at a fire.

“C’mon,” Wild says, “we should get going.”

Hyrule’s face splits into a grin and rushes to catch up with Wild as he begins to walk back towards the direction of camp. The sound of mud squelching beneath their boots accompanies his thoughts as they go. He hopes they’ve set up the pots and pans he needs to make dinner like he asked them to. He’d like to get something warm in his belly as soon as possible and it would be so much quicker if the others realized they could maybe help make dinner sometimes.

He’s in the middle of planning out his next moves once they’re back with the others when it happens. It’s achingly familiar too—the way the air seems to turn foul and the shadows of the trees grow within the blink of an eye. Through his travels alone… before he fought and defeated Calamity Ganon… things were hardly ever perfectly okay. Safety was always rare, and things could go sour quicker than what you would expect. Wild quickly trained himself to always be aware of the dangers around him, even if everything seemed happy and safe. It saved his back more times than what he could admit, even if the pressure of anxiety pressing down on his ribs was more constant than a place for him to spend the night.

He could sense everything about to go wrong a moment before it does. He’s not sure what’s made him aware of the change—whether it’s the quieting of crows or the darkening sky—but one thing is for sure, this time he’s not quick enough to stop it.

He sees Hyrule twitch besides him and drop all of the firewood in his arms right into the mud. His hands fly to his neck as Wild drops his load and pulls out his sword. He hears a zip and catches the flash of light just in time to jump out of the way of a flying arrow.

Immediately, Wild is in battle mode. With practiced movements that he doesn’t even think about anymore, his shield is off of his back and on his non-dominant hand just-in-the-nick-of-time to block two more arrows with an equal number of thunks. With rising adrenaline, Wild looks over at Hyrule and what he sees makes his stomach twist. There, just a few strides out of arm's reach, Hyrule stumbles and tugs his hands away from his neck; grasped in his fingers is a small, thin twig with a feather on one end and a metal glint on the other. It isn’t hard to guess what’s exactly going on as Hyrule stumbles again with fluttering eyelids.

This isn’t any old attack from monsters in the forest, Wild concludes as he begins to rush towards his poisoned friend.

This is an ambush.

Just before Wild can reach Hyrule, a form jumps down from the trees between them. Wild has a split-second to recognize the glint of misshapen armor bent to fit a large reptile's body before the Lizalfols is swinging a sharp boomerang right for his throat. Wild steps back and raises his shield before he could be hit, however he has to work hard to suppress a frustrated snarl as he’s forced to widen the distance between himself and the barely standing Hyrule. He can see the other hero struggling to pull out his sword as more figures emerge from the surrounding trees.

“Alright, ugly,” Wild hisses under his breath as he shoves his shield out with calculated power. He needs to finish this quickly before Hyrule gets himself more hurt so he can figure out what poison was used and if the others are okay.

The Lizalfos screeches and stumbles back, waving its weapon wildly. Wild takes its struggle to regain balance as an opportunity to rush forward and swing his sword right for the weak spots of its armor. The monster screams impossibly high with unhuman chords before falling limp on his sword, however Wild doesn’t have time to celebrate before claws dig into his shoulders. Stifling a cry of pain, Wild is forced to let go of his lodged sword to catch his fall on his hands and knees. The well-known shriek of a bokoblin reaches his ears as he throws his weight to the side to dislodge the thing. Luckily, he’s successful, ending up on his back with the perfect position to swing his shield at the exact right moment to hit the bokoblin right in the snout as it tries to jump at him again.

“Champ!” calls a shaky voice. Hyrule.

He doesn’t sound too good.

And judging how there are several more monsters here than what he remembered before ending up on the ground… neither of them will be too good soon if he doesn’t act.

He scrambles to his feet, barely noticing how soaked in rain and mud he is now, and grabs a stick on his way up that he had previously dropped. He swings it like a bat at the next closest bokoblin—mourning his sword and mentally kicking himself for getting it stuck in the corpse of a fucking lizard—but he only manages to slightly stun it for a moment before its running after him with pig-like gurgles quicker than what he can properly lift his shield. However, before the creature can hit him, there's the flash of a friendly blade, cutting the beast down mid-air. Before him stands Hyrule, looking very pale with beads of sweat trailing down from his hairline. Wild’s about to nod his thanks, but two things happen at once that makes everything go completely downhill.

Wild sees Hyrule’s eyes roll up to his skull right before the air is knocked out of him via a viscous swing of a tail to his ankles, resulting in him landing heavily on his back.

Monsters all around him squeal with glee as Wild attempts to catch his breath and struggle to his feet. However, before he can do so, the heavy body of the lizalfos responsible for taking him down lands on his back, expelling any of the air Wild had left in his lungs. For a horrifying second, Wild’s almost afraid his head is about to be removed from his body with the flash of a sharp boomerang.

Shockingly enough, that doesn’t happen. While he feels the blade slide right against his jaw, his skin does not break. With the tug of a clawed hand in his hair, he quickly finds this isn’t a kind of ambush that he’s used to. Most surprise monster attacks stay exactly as it appears to be: an all-out attack with no more intentions than to stab things and scream loudly.

This one however is proving itself to be a little different. They want something, something that they’d keep Wild pinned on the ground with a blade to his throat alive.

Thanks to the hand holding his head up by his hair—sending a rather vicious kink into his neck as he’s still stuck on his stomach—Wild can see Hyrule completely collapsed on the ground with a few monsters hovering over him with excited snorts and grunt.

He can’t believe the two of them have been bested by monsters as low in skill as these.

Something more has to be going on.

And, just as that thought crosses his mind, there’s the sound of booted feet approaching on the soggy ground. The new presence comes behind from where Wild is pinned, so he cannot see them. However, based on the even steps and the whoosh of cloth, he can at least infer that they’re not a monster… or at least something a bit more humanoid.

His suspicions are confirmed once the figure steps into view. They look the build of a Hylian; though below the cloak that covers their face and exposes nothing but the shadow of a pointed chin… they must be a rather tall Hylian.

Which definitely isn’t good. Monsters are one thing—creatures born out of hatred and greed—but a Hylian who’s born as pure as any other human and animal in the world choosing to work with monsters? Deal with wickedness? They’re always the bigger threat. If the Yiga clan alone isn’t proof enough that Hylia’s creations can inhibit more darkness than the lowest of beasts, then Wild would ask what shrine you've been sleeping in.

Not like he could ask that now, not as the cloaked figure steps right past Wild without sparing a single glance. Wild cannot help but feel his stomach twist in fear as the person kneels down by the unmoving and unarmed Hyrule. They place a pale hand on Hyrule’s forehead, making Wild’s skin crawl.

“Get away from him!” Wild snarls, digging his fingers into the mud and attempting to push the heavy lizalfos off from him, but all that does is cause the creature to hiss and tighten the blade.

The cloaked intruder doesn’t respond nor quit in their endeavors of getting too close to Hyrule for Wild’s comfort. In fact, Wild almost thinks they didn’t even hear him.

He’s about to shout out once again—angry with being ignored—but the breath leaving his lungs fall silent as the figure brushes back Hyrule’s hair with a verbal sigh. Then, to Wild’s horror, the figure pulls back to their cloak to bring out a small vial filled with a deep purple liquid.

“What is that?” Wild demands as the lid of the vial is popped off and lowered towards Hyrule’s pale lips. “Don’t you fucking dare-” suddenly the air is squeezed from his body, forcing his protests to cease, as the lizalfos leans more of it’s weight onto his back to press his face down into the mud.

He doesn’t see what happens next, but he can put two and two together when a few silent moments pass before those human footsteps begin to finally head Wild’s way. The clawed hand in his hair loosens ever so slightly as slim fingers slip under his chin. Next thing Wild knows, he’s blinking through dripping eyelashes at the shadowed face of the cloaked figure.

Wild, of course, takes the opportunity to spit a wad of mud at the face of his enemy thanks to his little face-meets-dirt session.

He’s pretty sure he hits his mark, because in a blink of an eye Wild is no longer pinned on the ground, but lifted into the air by his neck. His feet scramble for purchase when there is none as his hands fly to his throat. The pressure on his neck is so intense that he doesn’t think to try and look at the face of his attacker. He can only gulp for trapped air like a fish out of water. Then, just like that, the pressure on his throat is released as he finds himself thrown back into the waiting arms of various monsters. Before Wild can attempt to find his bearings, his wrists are twisted violently behind his back; the motion almost yanks his limbs from their sockets. After a few gasps, it's all Wild can do to stand there with their physical restraints of clawed hands and send a cold glare at the cloaked figure.

The cloaked figure radiates irritation from where they stand, but Wild spares only a moment to bare his teeth at them before glancing back to where he'd last seen Hyrule.

He can’t see Hyrule’s face, but he’s no longer laying prone on the floor. He’s currently sat up with his chin limply touching his chest as a pair of monsters work together to bind his wrists behind his back.

Knowing that villains don’t usually restrain corpses, Wild concludes that Hyrule is still alive and returns his anger at the cloaked figure.

Wild takes a deep breath and speaks through hissing teeth, “who are you?”

“I would watch your tongue, hero,” the figure says, their voice not distinct enough to be dubbed male or female. However, Wild can practically feel the annoyance in their tone traveling down his spine. “We don’t need both of you, and your small friend is not the expendable one.”

The words settle in Wild’s gut like moss covered stones. This really isn’t any normal attack or ambush… this was a targeted mission.

Hyrule is the target.

“What do you want with him?”

The figure chuckles, their shoulders bounce in such an undeniably human way that it makes Wild feel sick to his core. “It never fails to amuse me that none of you seem to truly understand just how much more powerful and important this one is compared to the rest of you.” The cloaked figure walks towards Wild with arms spread wide. “His blood alone is more powerful than any form of magic known to any sorcerer.”

“What are you talking about?” Wild spits, forcing his face to remain cold and angry despite the pool of confusion and fear that’s beginning to swell around those moss stones in his gut.

The figure hums and tilts their covered head. After another moment, they speak with an amused tone, walking slowly towards Wild. “That slate on your belt... you’re the hero from the far future, oh how convenient. Tell me, have you ever wondered why the monsters come back to life?”

Wild doesn’t get a chance to answer before the figure stops right in front of him. He hates that even though he cannot see their face, he can practically taste the smug victory radiating off from them.

“Don’t you wonder why the moon shines red with blood?”

Wild swallows. “What does that have to do with anything?” He looks over where Hyrule is placed. “What does that have to do with him?”

The figure chuckles and leans forward close enough that Wild can almost see an outline of a pointed nose. “Everything.”

Then, with a flick of their hand, something hard smacks against the back of Wild’s skull. The world spins and pain shoots through his head and into every speck of his body. He blinks, and suddenly he’s leaning bonelessly into the grasps of the monsters behind him, the corners of his vision going black.

The last thing he sees is the figure turning back towards Hyrule with a flick of their cloak.

Then, his eyes fall shut and he knows no more.

[thesightstoshowyou]

*leggy up and against the wall* henlo there , could maybe we get a taste of tommy boy when he needs to remind you and himself that you’re his and his alone ?

*Wiggles eyebrows* Henlo! Oh, happy day! I went crazy with this one <3

AFAB Reader (NSFW), Warnings: Kind of dubious consent, blood, gore, death of a minor character, creampie

            Unforgiveable Texas heat beats down on you as you make your way to the corner store. Despite the thick layer of sweat that has accumulated between your palms, you continue to hold Tommy’s hand. Your other clutches a paper bag with lunch for Luda Mae.

             Reaching the store, you find a truck parked out front. Travelers. Tommy motions toward the back door. Reluctantly, you release his hand and make your way to the front as he skirts around back.

             The bell above the door rings as you enter. Luda Mae gives you a small smile, one which you return. Handing off her lunch, you stand in front of the fan, letting the lukewarm air dry your dewy skin.

             “Well, shit, look at that,” you whip around when an obnoxious voice sounds behind you. A young man leans up against the counter as you turn. He’s tall, good looking, and fully aware of it. He bites his lip and lets his gaze drag down your body. Wrinkling your nose, you wrap your arms around yourself.

             “Thought it was just inbred hicks in this shithole, but looks like you just proved me wrong. What’s your name, cutie?” You’re shocked, jaw dropping at his words. Never in your life have you met someone so rude. Over at a table, the man’s friend snickers under his breath.

            Typically, you stay far removed from what Thomas and Hoyt did to the people who came through here, but today you might just make an exception.

            Your skin prickles. Glancing over the asshole’s shoulder, you find Thomas standing in the doorway to the back room. He’s seething, shoulders heaving, a murderous look in his eyes that nearly makes you stumble back. You’ve never seen him so angry. You know he has a bit of a temper, but this is something else entirely; something dark and savage.

            You clear your throat and respond, “Don’t have one,” before turning back to the fan.

            “Ah, c’mon sweetheart, don’t be like that.”

            “Think she wants to be left alone,” Luda Mae pipes up from behind the counter, frowning at the man over the top of her glasses.

            “We’re having a conversation here,” he snarks, throwing his hands up as though he’s not the one at fault. If looks could kill, this asshole would be dead three times over with how Tommy looks at him. Minutely, you shake your head at Thomas, then nod toward the door.

            “You know what? Yeah, let’s go outside so we can talk…privately,” you interrupt, giving the man your sweetest smile. His own lips quirk up in a self-satisfied grin. One last glance over your shoulder shows you Tommy has vanished.

            You lead him outside toward his pick-up. The man barely makes it three steps out the door before Thomas in on him. He grips the front of the man’s shirt, reels back, and whacks him in the face with a fist. You hear his nose crunch, watch the blood splatter the front of Tommy’s shirt. He crumples to the ground in a heap.

            His friend, watching through the window, is out the door in a flash, screaming obscenities, but like his friend, he proves to be no match for Thomas. Tommy grabs his face and twists, snapping his neck like one would a twig. Your eyes grow wide as saucers as you watch the friend tip over and land with a heavy thud, dry dirt billowing up around his still body.

            You’ve never seen Tommy kill anyone before. You’ve heard it, heard the roar of the chainsaw, listened to the screams, but you’ve never seen him unleash his raw brutality first hand. You swallow, eyes glued to the sweaty shirt stuck to his massive back.

            You shouldn’t be this turned on.

            Thomas doesn’t acknowledge you. Instead, he slings the man over his shoulder and strides over to the truck, dropping the tailgate and tossing the body inside. He does the same with the other man. Fishing the keys out of one of their pockets, he moves to the driver’s seat. Only then does he look at you expectantly.

            You have no choice but to follow.

*

             “Tommy wants ter see ya’,” Hoyt calls as he saunters into the dining room. You set down the stack of plates in your hands, frowning.

             “Right now?” you ask, nervous butterflies tumbling around in your gut. Your eyes flick to the darkened hallway leading to the cellar.

             “Did I stutter?” he snarks, making his way over to the fridge and peering inside. Why would he want you now, mid butchering? You hadn’t communicated once since the incident at the corner store.

            Hands trembling, you remove your apron before making your way toward the sliding metal door. You heave it open and descend the rickety stairs, the sharp tang of copper and musty damp meeting your nostrils the further you go. You pause on the bottom step, frown deepening.

            “HELP! Help me PLEASE!” You’re surprised to find the rude man from earlier still alive and strung up on a meat hook. Deep purple bruises bloom under his eyes, dried blood crusting along his nose and mouth where Thomas had hit him. He sobs, crying out in pain when the movement jars the metal piercing his flesh. His friend hangs limply next to him, both legs and an arm missing.

            You give Thomas a questioning look as he sloshes toward you through the water covering the floor. He’s still irritable, brow drawn down, blue eyes dark and dangerous. He retrieves you from the step and carries you to the blood drenched meat-cutting table.

            “Tommy, what are you—

            You yelp when Thomas slams your upper body down on the table so your legs hang over the side. Thick, gore covered hands lift your skirt and rip your underwear down to your knees. You squeak, cheeks heating up, looking anywhere but at the man suspended from the ceiling.

            “Thomas—

            You try again when the clink of a belt buckle meets your ears. Tommy pretends he doesn’t hear you, and you gasp when you feel his cock at your entrance. Gripping your shoulders, he slams home, burying every girthy inch inside your quivering cunt.

            You shriek, fingers scrabbling for a hold on the slippery table as Thomas pounds you into the surface. One hand slides from your shoulder to your neck, smearing blood across your skin as he tips your head back until you’re arched. At this angle, he mercilessly assaults that glorious spot deep within you.

            Your cunt responds, leaking until the slick noises of his cock popping in and out of you are almost louder than your unchecked moans. Normally, one of you would be covering your mouth so the rest of the family couldn’t hear, but, deliriously, you realize this is his goal. It dawns on you that he’s claiming you, proving you belong only to him in front of the man who had come onto you.

            This thought is enough to shove you violently over the edge, cunt clamping down around Tommy’s cock until you’re screaming, powerful waves of euphoria wracking your body. Behind you, Thomas groans and digs his fingers into your shoulder, hips ramming against you once more until he’s painting your insides.

            You gasp when he pulls out of you, flips you onto your back, tosses your legs over his shoulder and thrusts back into you, his length as hard as it had been at the start. You chant his name like a prayer when he resumes his frantic pace. Sweat drips down your brow as you arch, cumming on his cock a second time.

            Thomas is able to pull two more orgasms from your trembling body before his hips stutter once more. You groan in appreciation when you feel sticky warmth flood your cunt until it overflows, dripping down your ass and onto the table. Your heaving chest mirrors Tommy’s and when you raise your hazy gaze to his face, you find the tense look gone, replaced with contentment.

            Body aching, you slip your legs from his shoulders and sit up, gripping the front of his shirt to pull his lips down to yours. You whisper that you love him—only him—against his mouth and sigh when he wraps his arms around you, crushing you to his chest. You stay there, inhaling the scent of sweat and blood and sharp soap, the scent of him.

            A pathetic whimper to your left startles you. You glance over to the wide-eyed man hanging from the hook. You’d forgotten he was even there.

            Thomas releases you, cupping your face before retrieving the cleaver off the table next to you. In his eyes, you see a promise to pick this back up as soon as he ties up the loose end. Fondly, you smile.

[littlefreya]

The Way To Hell - Final Chapter

Summary: Post Mi6, Alternate Canon. August escapes Hunt with his face intact and is currently the most dangerous man on earth. Unwilling to back down from his murderous agenda, he plots to continue where he stopped while a trained assassin is sent to bring him down. 

Pairing: August Walker x OFC (Ingvild) 🖤

Word count: 5k (including epilogue) 

Warnings: 18+, smut, boomer Walker, some fluff, sexual intercourse, cock-warming, mentions of torture, implied insanity, slight mentions of gore, violence, murder, mass-shooting and death. Please proceed with caution  

A/N: The ending is here and I hope I did it justice, I hope I did right by you. I will reblog my kudos, but first I must thank @agniavateira for being my beta and a source of inspiration and @raspberrydreamclouds for the cover art. 

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, ideas or parts it and claiming it as your own*

Now allow me to die out of stress and anxiety.

Title: See You in Hell

Down by the valley, there is a serenity that exists only in fairy tales. Damp grass caresses her naked back, the pointy little tips ticking the base of her spine, leaving a fresh trail of dew. Pure mountain mist breathes life through blue hills caked with ice; white fog vales over the forest’s lush greenery and looms above the lake’s water like a lost-love phantom.

Lying with her eyes shut, she listens to the harmony of life surrounding her: the little fish bouncing in the river, the butterflies procreating mid-air and the hummingbird chirping with bliss. Yet the most beautiful sound is the low, melodic baritone humming and reverberating against her inner thighs. 

”Angel, With those angel eyes Come and take this earth boy Up to paradise.”

”Boomer Walker…” she teases, “Is that a song from your time?” 

Ascending a trail of kisses up her pelvis, he scoffs and shakes his head. “I’m starting to suspect that you have a kink for older men,” he answers with a throaty growl, shifting his weight further over her abdomen. The soft fur of his torso grazes between her thighs, and she sighs with pleasure. 

”Do you want daddy to fuck you?” 

”That’s gross!” she curls her nose and tries to hit his head playfully, but August snaps at her wrists with perfect instinct, pinning her hands against the wet meadow. His tongue flicks over the slant of her neck while he aligns his cock at the little piece of heaven between her legs.

Sensual yet rough, his massive girth splits her walls while his lips shower her with honeyed kisses. Ingvild throws her head back, lacing her fingers with his and coils herself beneath his large body. 

“August...” she pants, feeling the air gradually diminishing from her lungs with every thrust, “I think I’m dying...”

Never halting or slowing his rhythm, August lowers his head to peer into her eyes. Fingers drenched with blood snap at her jaw.

“Stay with me, Ingvild.” He demands, letting out a husky groan, though his voice is but an echo.

A grey, thick mist wafts around the darkening forest, covering her with a bone-chilling breeze; his calling carries on the distance.  

“Stay, princess...”

“Don’t leave...”

“Stay. We’ve only just begun.”

Ice bites its sharp fangs into the little creases between her cracked bones as another bucket filled with frosty water showers her trembling body. The stabbing pain lasts for a lingering moment, reminding her that she’s still very much alive.

It must be the 10th bucket, or maybe 12th? She lost count at some point. Day and night melt into one another in this place, and the hours don’t make much sense.

Muffled complaints vibrate in her ears. Vaguely her sight picks on two silhouettes arguing when the world abruptly flashes white, and her jaw soaks a terrible blow. Fully crashing onto the hard marble, she tries to recover, but a sudden kick rips through her abdomen.

“Your methods are too slow, Issac!” A grey-haired agent chides, standing over the girl with his foot still drawn, “Walker could be setting his bomb somewhere across the globe any minute now, and you’re taking your sweet time with her as if she’s an art project.”

The scrawny torturer frowns and turns his back at him. Walking toward the metal desk, he browses through different equipment. “My methods always work, the pretty little girl was taught to endure pain,” he grunts in exasperation and gestures at the bloodstained bandage around her hand, “she did this to herself.”

Sighing with a mixture of frustration and disgust, the CIA agent takes another swing at Ingvild’s torso, the pointy edge of his shoe colliding with the scar at her gut.

Bloodshot eyes rise with wrath, violent tides of aftershock course at her viscera. She peers at the men through the haze of pain when a third figure appears in the room, standing calmly whilst Issac and the agent argue among them. 

Tall, broad, and charismatic, the handsome man strides toward her. His tailored steel-coloured suit envelops his statuesque body as if he is made of iron.  

“You’re taking it so well, princess,” he praises in his deep, melodic baritone while crouching down to take a closer look. Ingvild lifts her head, slowly breaking into a weak grin. Onyx orbs replace the storm-touched eyes, but that chiselled face still belongs to her beautiful monster.

“Did you tell them anything about where I am headed?” he asks and gives her a pout, reaching his index finger and thumb to squeeze her bruised cheek affectionately. 

Swallowing the aching dryness in her throat, she manages to shake her head meekly. “No… I said nothing,” her voice cracking as she whispers. Her chapped lips stretch into a pale, awkward grin. 

Tiny lines form at the corner of his void-like eyes as he smiles back, radiating with dangerous delight.

“That’s my good girl.”

The grey-haired agent throws a glance over his shoulder, scrutinising Ingvild while he stands next to Issac, who is twirling a scalpel back and forth between his boney fingers.

“Who is she talking to?”

“Not very sane this one,” Issac explains as he examines the silver blade against the light, “multiple mental disorders, dissociative personality, psychotic.”

Pushing the agent aside with his free hand, Issac steps forward. He leers at Ingvild, who stares at nothing for a long second before averting her eyes back at them. 

“We just need to dig a little deeper and the little bird will sing,” he exclaims and moves closer before dropping to his knees. One of his icy hands lands on her shoulder, forcing her flat on her back. Shuddering at his frozen touch, she closes her eyes; in the bleak nothingness, she recalls the night in the lake where August let her die.

“Pretty little Ingvild, have you heard of vivisection?” Her torturer asks as he lines his twig-like finger over the spine of the scalpel. Sensing his digits sneaking beneath the hem of her shirt, she shoots her eyes open yet remains still and intrepid. 

The tiny black marbles beneath Issac’s brows glint with twisted joy, appeased at the sight of the scar as he exposes her torso. Ingvild expects the pain of the blade when something tepid and unpleasantly wet slithers across her gut like a little pink slug. 

“Umm… Issac…?” The agent interrupts, furrowing his brow with confusion and disgust as he stares at his colleague licking the girl’s torso.

“What?!” Issac snaps at him, his eyes narrowing with spite, “you wanted me to go harder on her!”

“Yes, but…”

“But shut up and let me do my job!” He yells and returns his glare to Ingvild who blinks at the ceiling silently. Disrupted by his touch, she bites her tongue, fighting to hold back the acrid substance that threatens to emerge from her gut.

“You fight very hard to protect a man who doesn’t give a fuck about you, little bird,” his snake-like voice hisses as he leans down to half-whisper in her ear, “just tell me where he is and I won’t cut you open.”

Ingvild sucks the air in through gritted teeth and turns her head to look away from the obnoxious little man. She seeks for her beautiful monster, finding him leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. August’s empty glance wears a calm grin.

“He is in this room,” Ingvild jests faintly, her sardonic laughter stretching thin, her chest heaving, exhausting whatever strength is left in her muscles. August’s smirk widens with hers, large dimples are slicing into his cheeks.

Ticking his tongue, Issac allows the sharp edge of the scalpel cut a skin-deep line into her flesh. Ingvild stares at him stoically, not moving a muscle as shy drops of blood begin trickling down her navel. 

“Are you sure about your response?” he asks, ghosting the scalpel over her abdomen while crooking an eyebrow.

Ingvild bites her lip, pretending to think about her answer for a few seconds. Lifting her head up, she inches her lips toward Issac’s ear. The scrawny man listens intently. 

“August Walker is the devil, and the devil is everywhere.”

A peal of sinister chuckles spills from her lips as she throws her head back onto the ground, staring at Issac’s disapproving glare. 

But her laughter soon dies. 

Taut pressure pierces into her flesh, the blade penetrating deep, cutting through tissue and muscle as if it was soft cheese. Ingvild clenches her jaw, her mind flooded by charring white light that dismantles every thought while the blade continues to swerve.

For a brief moment, she finds herself in Bergen, hands covered with thick blood, holding the gushing wound in her stomach with shock. August stands above her, toying with his favourite knife and staring at the red taint. 

“Time to fall, angel.” 

Scattered musings run behind her eyes: Liam, the nuns at the orphanage, August, and even Erica. She’s reminded of every hit she was forced to take, every country she visited, all blending into a bizarre parade of death. 

“C’mon girl, just tell us where he is!” She hears the other man shout as he steps closer with an urgent expression. “Just give us something, a country, a region, anything to make this stop, you can still do the right thing.” 

The heavy stench of iron fills her nose; the warm, thick liquid trickles down her bare skin, spilling in a cross on the map of her torso. The pain now is undeniable, making her lips heavier as she makes an attempt to answer.

“I don’t…. know… any August.”

The CIA agent scoffs violently and balls his fists. “Deeper!” He orders Issac, who like a composer, trails the blade further through her gut, cutting into sinew and brittle tendons. Ingvild trembles, feeling her body grow weaker. 

In her mind, she can hear caged screams.

“You will die for a man who doesn’t even care if you bleed!” The agent rasps, spit coming out of his mouth as he rages above her.

‘Stop!’

“He won’t even remember you once you die!”

‘Resist, don’t show pain. You’ve been through this before, you already died.’ 

“No one will.”

Swallowing every ounce of pain, she fights to remember her training, her past. Her mind scrambles for Fjellstrekninger forest, for the green pines and their stringy needles, for the scent of beech and the damp ground. She tries to imagine the silver-blue mountains of Bergen, that last time she hiked there before going to meet Liam at the gas station. 

How strange that at the very same day she encountered the most wanted man on earth, not knowing she was destined to be his. 

But none of these images appear before her.

‘You can’t escape this.’

Her screams shudder through the entire floor. 

“Are you out of your goddamn mind?” 

August flicks his tongue over his bottom lip, glowering at the driver who gawks at him with disbelief and shakes his head. Pushing the phone against his chin, he stares forward at the rainy road, reciting in his mind the words of the MI6 and CIA apostles.

‘Erica captured a woman in her late 20s, having her tortured for information for a couple of days now. Can’t promise you she’s alive. No one goes in there.’

“I wasn’t asking,” August answers, throwing him an icy glare, “we’re taking the chopper to the Mi6 fortress in London. I don’t need to tell you what happens if you question my decisions.” 

The driver tenses his fingers around the steering wheel and shakes his head once again. He means to say something, but the scowl on August’s face shuts him up right away.

“Who is she? What is she to you?”

August huffs and lowers his gaze, eyes dropping to the plutonium case and then forward through the windshield, watching the heavy rain clouds that stretch before the sky. As he blinks his eyes shut, his mind plays a vision of an inferno; cracked ground and scorched skies. He sits on a throne made of bones and drinks wine from a chalice made of human skull. 

His angel sits on his knee, naked and pure, her iridescent wings tucked against her back. She stares at him with a smile full of admiration, her fingers brushing over his moustache. 

‘Your angel of destruction.’

“She’s just an asset.”

‘Hell lives inside you August, it always has. Rotting you from the inside as it begs to be let out. And you will unleash it, won’t you? Your suffering must be shared.’

Vast shadows gather outside the double-pane windows of the main hall. The thick storm clouds paint the sky pitch black, swallowing the stars alive one by one. Light wanes just in time for the harbinger of chaos to march into the well-secured lobby of the sizable Mi6 fortress.

If fairytales were to be true, the devil would arrive riding a monstrous mare with hooves made of flames. But if anything, he is but a man in a tailored suit and a long trench-coat. The leather soles of his midnight-black shoes squeak as he marches on, leaving a trail of mud on the cream-coloured marble.

“Evening sir,” the security guard greets and gestures August to pass through the large weapon detector with nothing but a quick exchange of knowing looks. 

The corners of August’s lips curl into a small smile beneath his moustache while he scrutinises the surroundings. Gold and pearly pillars spread across the vast hall, a false facade hiding a decaying world and the self-indulgent ghosts that harbour it. So lost in their own little lie, it takes them more than a few minutes to notice the hellhound who stepped into their haven.

It begins as a small rumble, like a seismic wave. The first tremor vibrates through the ground and the walls follow with a convulsing shudder. Gasps, chatter, and widened eyes stab at him with shock, yet they all seem to suffer from the same affliction. 

Standing paralysed, they ogle at the most wanted man on earth as he combs his fingers through his hair and walks toward the elevators located at the end of a narrow, red corridor. Unapologetically confident and ever so relaxed and condescending, he ignores them. 

A true king among peasants.  

“Is that?...”

“What the fuck?!”

“How the fuck did he pass security???”

His confidence is nothing but theatrics, as his blue eyes carry toward the large elevators with a glossy sparkle breaking on his corneas. He tries so hard to envision her beautiful face yet all he sees is a pile of dry bones.

“Stop! Hands in the fucking air, Walker!”

‘Ah, took them long enough.’

Standing between the carpeted walls of the narrow corridor, only mere inches from the silver doors, August slowly spreads his long fingers and lifts his hands in the air. His keen ear catches at least three firearms as the guards cock their guns at his direction, panting with fright. 

“Turn around so we can see you, piece of shit!!!” A presumingly young hero barks behind him. 

“Someone call Director Sloane down here right now, she’s not going to believe it!!!”

The soft rumbling in the lobby grows into impending thunder. A flash of pale purple lightning floods the lit vicinity for a split second, echoing the small grin that spreads across August’s beaming face.  

“Oh, I don’t think so, son,” he speaks serenely, almost like a tender fatherly coo. Not bothering to turn, he tilts his head up and inhales sharply.

“Go.”

Sharp gasps of shock and terror reverberate between the walls of the fortress as sudden darkness veils the main hall. The smell of their fear is almost as delightful as the strong smoky scent of gunpowder. Like shooting stars, the rapid gunfire pierces through the night. Cries, incoherent screams, and panicked gasps make for a beautiful concert, so much that he wishes he could stay, but he has a girl to rescue.  

‘If she’s still alive…’

Swallowing the bitter bile, he enters an elevator and presses the button for the basement level. He watches the flickering beams of light as his men continue to execute the remaining agents before the doors shut in. 

Drawing out his handgun and relieving the safety, he leans against the shuddering metal and stares at the neon red number while reminiscing on the day he met a pretty girl with an unpleasant smile.

“Too bad, I would have loved to see you again.”

“Well then, if our destinies were meant to be entwined, you will.”

The basement level seems completely abandoned and eerily silent. No wails nor cries carry on the chilly air. 

His Ingvild is forbearing, she would never show her suffering. Would she? 

Inching toward the interrogation cell, his hand runs across the naked concrete walls, sensing the coarse texture against the pads of his fingers. Opaline droplets of sweat bead his forehead and his lungs sink with the effort.

Muffled voices perk his ears the closer he gets: two men, no woman. No sounds of violence, no signs of her in there whatsoever. 

‘Angel, are you being brave for me?’

Arriving at the door, he takes a deep breath and gingerly pushes the handle. The pungent scent of salt and iron pervades his nostrils as he steps a foot into the shower of blinding white light. The brightness hurts and for a moment it feels as everything before him fades. 

Until his sight sharpens and he notices the two shadowy figures standing with their backs facing him. They look like vultures preying upon a corpse.

Her corpse.

‘No! Change this! Make this right!’

Wings of cherry-dark blood spread from her snow-pale body. Motionless, his girl lies with her top huddled around her chest to expose her bleeding gut. 

‘You are too late…’

Pure, undistilled rage burns within August’s throat, so ferocious it stings in his eyes, making his entire body tremble. He lifts his hand and fires the gun hastily, shooting both men in the back of their heads before they even get the chance to turn and look at the man who executed them. 

“Ingvild!” August pants, rushing and falling to his knees before her. 

“Angel?” He presses one hand to her gut, trying to pressure her gushing wounds while his fingers etch around her nape to pull her closer to his face. Blood, still sticky and warm, tarnishes his clean outfit while he cradles her in his arms.

“Please don’t do this to me…” He whispers, shifting his hand to caress her bruised face, recalling the last time she was dead in his arms. 

The world kept spinning on its axis when she died back at the lake. So why does it feel like right now it stopped in its place?

Pressing her to his chest, August shuts his eyes and shudders with fury. All emotions come to life, and every one of them hurt.

“You are not here…” 

A deep quivering sigh of relief soars from his throat, mouth cracking into a smile at the sounds of her hoarse whisper and delicate moans. Blinking faintly, Ingvild half-opens her eyes and stares at him through heavy lids. 

“I am here,” he whispers, brushing away the sticky strands of hair from her face and squeezes her cheek beneath his thumb, “I came to take you, we have to go.”

Shifting his arms, he tries to lift her up, but his petite woman is suddenly made of the heaviest rocks; her stiff muscles protest in his grip, making it impossible for him to manoeuvre her out of fear she will bleed to death. 

“We were both at the garden,” she mumbles drowsily, licking her bloodied teeth before breaking into a maddened smile that quickly dies as she depletes her remaining strength. “I’m tired, I want to stay here and dream.” 

“Ingvild, we don’t have time for this,” August warns with concern, noticing how her eyes roll back and her lashes flutter shut, “there’s a helicopter waiting for us on the roof. You have to get up, you have to survive this, you have to come with me! Please!”

Fat, oily tears roll down her temples, mingling with the blood and tangy sweat on her face. Opening her eyes again, she peers at her beautiful monster, recognising the familiar ocean and its eternal unrest. 

Did he come here for her, or is it just a dream?

“Why?” 

‘Tell her.’

Brow lifting and face softening, his hands clutch her tightly. He rocks her from side to side, holding her protectively. Ingvild senses the wrath that pours from his heart, the thundering beat throwing its fists against his ribcage as their bodies collide.

“You know why,” August suggests huskily, nearly begging, bargaining not to admit, not to say the words he was always so afraid of. But naively, her gaze pleas in return, the child-like innocence piercing a hole through his chest. 

“Tell me,” she begs him.

‘She needs you to say it.’

“Because I need you.”

The words nearly crack on his tongue, his throat suddenly so dry it sears. He glances down at the fallen angel, sensing the most excruciating thirst, where the only way to stop it is by stealing several deep kisses from her lips. 

“I need you by my side,” he murmurs above her lips between desperate, helpless kisses, hoping to breathe life into his weakened valkyrie, “stay with me, angel.”  

An awkward stretch tugs at her cheeks, hurting as if someone slices them with a blade from side to side. For the first time in her life, true laughter crisps her face, followed by crystal-like tears that run down her sullen eyes.

“I love you, August.” 

Every nerve in his body tingles with tendrils of light, reaching out deep within his gut and spreading throughout his tendons. For a moment, he feels divine, sanctified by the words of his angel, his woman, his by free will. 

Offering her a brief smile, he captured her lips for one last stolen kiss. His thick moustache scratches at her tender flesh while a little hum plays on his tongue. 

She tastes like blood and honey - the tarty flavour of victory.

“We have to go now, princess, I have to finish this.” 

Gingerly rising to his feet, he hooks a hand below her knees and places the other against her bruised spine. Bloody footprints trail behind him as he carries her outside the white room, trying to make for their freedom.

Locked down in her office, Director Erica Sloane inhales and exhales by practice, brushing a hand through her sweat-slick hair while trying to call every backup unit. Bullets still rip through the air in every story; the sirens howl while red lights flicker from outside. She puts her hands around her ears, trying to shut the noises out, uncertain if the screams she is hearing are her people still being slaughtered, or her mind playing tricks.

Walker is many things: an idealist, a manipulative snake, a monster. But this is a side of him she never anticipated. There is no need to question his motives this time. She is smart enough to figure it out. 

To risk so much, a man must feel deeply for a woman.

Her anxiety spikes as guilt seeps in when her phone suddenly rings.

“Director Sloane,” she pants against the receiver. Somehow, as she hears the deep, measured breath, she knows.

‘Walker.’

“Hello, Erica, did you miss me?”

Erica clenches her jaw and stares spitefully into nothing, “Hardly.”

She hears him scoff from the other line, her mind piecing together that horrible, pretentious grin of his. The bile climbs up her throat just from the vision. 

“We don’t have much time, but I just wanted to thank you.” August pauses, sighing with the bliss of a madman at her ear, “You see, if not for Lacey, if not for you kicking me to the curb the way you did - I would have never become what I was meant to be. And you sent me an angel to light my way…”

“You’ve manipulated her.”

“No, you did,” August interrupts calmly, “I set her free. I will set them all free and unite them.”

The anger simmers in her gut to the point of nausea. She holds her breath, counts to ten and tries to gather her thoughts. ‘August wants a bargain,’ she thinks, but for a reason, it feels like he already won.

“Can you come and look out of the window for me, please?” He asks politely. 

Turning her head at the window, she narrows her eyes and bites her plump lips with hesitation.

“If I had a sniper on you, you’d be dead 5 minutes ago,” he assures her. 

She gets up from her office chair slowly, her fingers reaching to uncover the blinds. The storm weakened, yet heavy clouds still loom from above like a noxious mist. She seeks for August on the horizon, listening carefully to the sounds on the line. She realises they are coming from above. Her sharp eyes detect the helicopter: far, yet close enough to see his shit-eating grin and that hand that waves at her. 

He has the girl with him. Who knew a monster could care.

“You know, you are the only woman in the CIA I haven’t fucked.” He provokes and then hangs up suddenly.

Erica watches as the helicopter takes off, her eyes widening with fear as the notion of her own demise resonates like a stinging slap.

The blast takes her along with the entire building within a split second.

Standing on the cliff by the edge of the valley, August stares down at the tranquil scar that swerves amidst lush, fertile mountains. The crystalline Indus river lies before his eyes, its sweet water so clear that the sky mirrors upon the brim.   

It’s not every day when a simple man becomes a god. 

The melancholic beauty of nature makes his fingers tighten around the detonator, thumb ghosting over the button as he allows himself a couple of last seconds to inhale the air of the old world. 

Oh, how many will die for this god to receive his halo.

‘I wish you were here, my Ingvild…’ August muses with anguish, feeling an awkward jab at the spot where his heart should have been.  

A sudden rumbling noise of a helicopter makes his gut weave. 

‘That better not be Ethan fucking Hunt! I should have thrown him off the cliff in Norway!’ 

Alarmed yet stoic as ever, he draws his gun, aiming it at the aircraft inching its way to land on the other side of the flat terrain. The last thing he needs right now is someone meddling with his affairs, but it quickly becomes clear to him that if someone wanted a monster like him dead, they would have sniped him from the air before he could even see them coming. 

‘Did you forget the woman is nothing but a valkyrie?’

“What are you doing here?” He calls out at Ingvild and frowns at the pilot, abruptly struck with anger. “I specifically asked to make sure she stays rested!”

The pilot shrugs while Ingvild makes her way toward August with mild effort. Dark circles rest beneath her eyes, yet she is still so very beautiful to him, especially when she frowns. 

“She was very persuasive and horrendously stubborn,” the pilot retorts. 

“Yeah, tell me about it,” August mutters to himself and watches the little battered woman making every attempt to remain stoic as she steps closer. A shadow of a malicious grin creeps on her frosty eyes. 

Once upon a time, she promised him she will always find him. She has no intention of breaking that promise.

“Did you think I’ll let you do this without me, August Walker?” She sulks at him as she finally moves to stand in front of him. Every nerve in her body is inflamed with pain, yet the thought of not being here at the birth of the new world brings greater agony than imagined. 

Something she compares to missing out on the birth of a child.

“We are in this together now, this is our cause, our better world. You don’t get to leave me behind.”

Her hand reaches for his wrist, thumb pressing to feel his quickening pulse. Wonder paints his eyes and his lips gape softly. He promised himself Lacey will never cross his thoughts again; yet he can’t help but think about that night in his study and the pain of betrayal.  

‘How is she even real?’   

Gently peeling her fingers off his wrist, he looks at the detonator. He then takes her hand in his, placing the device in her slender grasp. 

“Forgive me, my darling. You’re right,” he apologises and turns her over to view the horizon. A shiver surges through her as she senses the weight in her palm when August moves to stand behind her, resting his chin on the top of her head.

“We do this together.”

Pesky little honeysuckles flutter within her chest as his arms wrap around her carefully. One of his hands holds hers, raising it up slightly to position the device in front of her chest.

“Do it angel, set them free.”

Taking a deep breath, Ingvild slides her fingertip over the red button. Scattered images of her life briefly flash through her mind, ending with the single moment where their gazes first met that day in Bergen.

Bright heavenly light cleanses the sky and loud thunder rips through the earth. Standing on the trembling ground, August and Ingvild stare into the distance while slowly turning to face each other. They hold their hands together, both gaping with awe as rich golden hues pour into the sky. 

Enamoured, and lost within one another’s beauty, they share a long, lingering kiss. 

Epilogue. 

Sharp and heavy, the blade split the wood in half as if it was made out of soft butter. Resting the blunt side of the leaden axe over his shoulder, he pauses and observes the pile of firewood on the ground. His lips move in silence as he counts before crouching down to pick up another log and place it on the stump. 

Strong shades of pink and orange spread between the clouds, kissed by the drowsy sun as it makes its way to slumber beneath the earth. It’s been 8 months since the coming of their new world. Even though there is still work to be done, August decided a hideout was necessary to let her mend her wings. 

“Loki!” 

Ingvild rushes into the green field with a wide, toothy smile. Feral rivers of chestnut-brown reach the small of her back, floating behind her as she runs around giggling.

‘That smile, like honey. So pure, so real.’

Playful barks answer her call, and a German Shepherd puppy appears from across the green hill, jumping over one of the logs ecstatically and wags its tail.

“Careful or I’ll cook him for dinner,” August mutters and points the axe at Loki’s direction. The pup tilts its head at him and barks with playful rage, growling and baring its needle-like teeth.

Ingvild pauses and gives August an icy stare before grabbing the large puppy and holding him to her chest, “You’re a shitty liar August Walker, you love him. Always sneaking him bacon when you think I'm not looking and snuggling him in your sleep.”

August shrugs, brushing away her comment before sticking the axe into the tree stump. “Get inside, time for dinner.” A small grin stretches on his lips as he sees her walking away, kissing the puppy on his wet little nose. 

The scent of cedarwood burning at the mantle and brewed coffee welcomes her home as she enters the cabin, immediately filling her chest with mellowness. She allows Loki down on the ground before walking into their cosy bedroom where she removes her trousers and remains in an oversized sweater and black thigh-high stockings that August gifted her after they left Kashmir. 

When she returns to the living room, August is sitting at the study with his laptop open. A small wrinkle lines his forehead while he runs two fingers over his moustache. A map and coordinates are visible on the screen, along with a messaging platform which she only assumes is a conversation with one of the apostles. 

Loki lies guarding at his feet.

“Come here, princess,” August calls, reaching out his arm toward her. “I have something to show you.”

Sneaking toward him like a large feline, Ingvild takes his hand and lets him guide her to his lap. Her legs fall to each side of his thighs, and August rests his chin at the small crook of her neck where it always belonged.

“What are you looking for?” She asks, casually pulling the sleeve over her wrist to scratch at a peeling hammer tattoo gracing her skin.

“Don’t touch it, let it heal.” August answers and takes her hand in his, entwining their fingers together tightly. An illustration of an angel wing decorates the same spot on his arm. As she glances at the way the black ink is embedded into his flesh, she can’t help but smile and ever so slightly grind herself on the semi-rigid bulge beneath her ass.

August growls against her neck, grazing his stubbles over her supple skin before reaching a hand to unzip his tracking trousers and pull out his swelling manhood. After a soft scuffle of her panties, he lifts her hips and slides himself fully within her wet, angelic cove. 

“August…” She sighs, fluttering her eyes shut for a split second, embracing both pain and pleasure. When August fills her, she is ethereal, as if a piece that was missing all her life has finally made it back home.

“You always look so beautiful with me inside you,” he murmurs against her neck, planting bristly kisses down her jawline before returning his glare forward. Ingvild only moves slightly above him, swaying slow and smooth on his thick, throbbing girth and squeezing him tight between her walls to relish in their bond.  

“I have a present for you.” He opens a tab on his browser while his fingers toy with her clit with surprising tenderness.

“What is it?” She moans as he presses down on her sensitive pearl.

“I found Liam,” he explains, a twinge of pride and a spit of revenge hanging on his baritone. He growls slightly as her cunt clenches around him by his words. “He’s hiding out in Sao Paulo. I plan to bring you his head.”

Sucking on her bottom lip, she grinds a little harder, feeling August deep in her gut. The temptation to ride him hard and rough is too great, but this sweet slow torture always brings her to a higher ground of ecstasy when they finally fuck. 

“Can it wait, my beautiful monster?” She asks sweetly, reaching her talons to clutch his thigh as he pushes further in and bottoms out inside her with a grunt. “I’d like to stay here for a while and be your angel for a little bit longer.”

August lifts his cerulean gaze back to Ingvild, the clear sky in his deep irises slightly darken as he observes the serene look on her face. His hand rises to cup her chin and turn her head to the side to meet his possessive lips. He cages her mouth with his, devouring her with the lust of a hungry man.

“You will always be mine and mine alone Ingvild,” he promises as he ends the kiss with a nibble on her chin. Ingvild licks his saliva off her mouth and stares back at him with the oxymoronic union of innocence and sinister urge before she leans back and continues to look at his plans.

‘Who is she to you?’

‘She is my queen, and I am the king of hell.’

_______________________________

Additional Notes: Song lyrics by Elvis Presely - Angel. Additional Inspiration by Nine Inchs Nails - We’re in this together. 

Disclaimer: I own no rights to Mission Impossible’s franchise or August Walker.

[mingoyeob-archive]

1 and 50 with oc😊

under the oak tree drabble game ⚔️🌳 to make up for my delayed release of part 3 of under the oak tree i’ve decided to do a drabble game! send me a number + any of the characters from under the oak tree and i’ll write you a drabble :)

jsfejfkhw these keep ending up longer than intended but I'm doing this for you anon <3 thank you so much for requesting!

I'm still taking requests guys if you want to send some in! check out my tag 'drabble game' to see which ones I've already done :)

1. “I can’t believe I’m doing this” + 50. “You’re lucky I love you” - jjk x reader - word count: 1.6k

Being new to Uwhen meant knowing practically no one. You would think living in a castle full of knights and servants and maids meant you would always have someone to keep you company, but no. Your naturally soft spoken ways and tendency to distance yourself from crowds only pushed you to hole yourself up in your room or hide outside amongst the courtyard and stables. Namjoon must've noticed how lost and lonely you always looked (it was his job to look after the castle and its tenants after all) because after your umpteenth walk around the garden that day, he took it upon himself to assign you a task that would, hopefully, put you in better spirits.

“Here, take this.” A small travel and a pair of petite leather gloves was shoved in your direction, dwarfed by Namjoon's hands as he held them out to you. You reared your head back in surprise, eyes fleeting back and forth between the items and his expectant face, “What are these for?”

“For you!” he exclaimed, eyes brightening and face breaking out into a dimpled smile.

You let out a noise of confusion and quirked an eyebrow, finger pointing to your chest in question, “For...me? What do I need these for?” You had no idea what had got into the man, he barely ever talked to you, always busy dealing with some issue in the kitchen or trying to order supplies. It made you feel kind of guilty, that was all stuff you should’ve been doing as the Lady of the Castle, but your lack of education and inability to manage money correctly made the tasks nearly impossible.

Namjoon just cleared his throat, dropping his outstretched hands when you showed no signs of taking them from him. “Well I figured, since you look so dreadfully bored, perhaps picking up a hobby would make you feel better. I believe gardening is a great way to pass the time.”

So cautiously you had taken them. Not even your father expected you to do manual labor back at home, so this was unheard of, “I can't believe I’m doing this.” you said. Namjoon let out a snort at your words before proceeding to show you the areas around the castle that needed the most help, not that you needed him too as you had already walked them probably a hundred times over.  But still, from that day forward, you woke up early to garden and after three years you had rehabilitated the garden, the areas around the stables, pruned the shrubs and even pulled up a nasty infestation of weeds that surrounded the cobblestone pathways. But with your husband Jungkook finally coming home you had begun to put off your to-do list in a last ditch attempt to try and get to know him better, which was easier said than done.

You often compared Jungkook to the stone wall that surrounded the castle, hard to get through and constantly surrounded in a grey monotonous mood. Your efforts to hold a conversation with him were typically met with one word answers or a measly grunt which you learned, depending on the tone, was either a ‘yes’ or ‘no’.  Sometimes you couldn’t even tell if he was listening, which you could understand was hard since most of the times you caught him he was either in the middle of overseeing training or stuffing food in his mouth. Still, sometimes you wished he would take a second to hear you out; to want to get to know you as much as you wanted to know him.

So today you had decided to put a pause in your plan to discover your husband and instead went back to tackling your goal of finally fixing up the courtyard. There wasn’t really much to do in terms of the small area, the circular shape didn’t allow much except for a few benches and flower patches here and there. The most challenging part was the large oak tree that stood right in the middle surrounded by crinkled leaves and dying twigs. It was almost sad. Yoongi had told you the tree had been here as long as he can remember, probably a few hundred years.

“It didn’t always look like this, ya know. The old maids in the kitchen say it used to be the pride and joy of Uwhen. Hard to believe that now though.” His words had basically been a challenge, even if that hadn’t been his intention. By the end of this year, you were going to revive the tree no matter what it took.

And that was how Jungkook found you, covered in dirt and cutting at thick grass that surrounded the trunk of the tree. He was used to waking up in bed with your side empty, sheets neatly tucked and spot cold. But usually you would find your way to him by the middle of the day, telling him all about what you had spent doing around the castle, and even if he didn’t show it those times were the favorite part of his evening. Listening to your relaxing voice after a hard day of training with pestering young knights and sitting in war meetings was like being soothed by the softest melody. Oftentimes it left him speechless. How was he expected to compare your lovely stories to his boring responsibilities? He preferred listening to you rather than himself. You were probably only doing this out of pity anyway; why would you want to spend time with him when he so obviously made you uncomfortable judging by how tense and shaky you always were when in his presence.

The sound of his heavy boots crunching must’ve alerted you to his presence, your head whipping around and working fingers halting. Jungkook stood there awkwardly, embarrassed to have been caught staring at you so openly, “Sorry. I’ll leave.” he said, turning on his heel.

But the small giggle you let out in response had him stopping in his tracks, his heart skipping a beat, “Why would you leave? This is your castle and you’re free to roam wherever you please. Just pretend I’m not here, I’m just fixing up the tree a bit.”

“Why would you want to do that?” Way to sound like an asshole, Jungkook thought. The wide expression you had at his question had him internally scrambling to correct himself, “I mean...it’s obviously dead. Why waste your time?” You shook your head and pulled the dirty gloves off your fingers to place them on the ground, “Well it's not a waste of time to me. It’s actually pretty fun! Here,” you extended a hand out to him from your spot on the ground, beckoning him forward. “Would you like to try?”

“Me?” he quirked an eyebrow and pointed a finger to his chest. Talk about deja vu you thought amused and let out a giggle,“Yes you! Come on, I'll show you how.”

Jungkook just stared at you with his signature steely gaze and for a second you assumed he was going to walk away, uninterested in having to spend more time with you than necessary. But you watched in surprise when instead he proceeded over to you, taking your hand as he sat cautiously down next to you on the ground. He wondered if you could hear his heart beating hard in his chest at feeling how dainty and perfect your hand fit into his.

For the rest of the day the two of you spent time sitting in the dirt, you showing him the correct way to cut out the invasive roots to prevent them from growing back or how to properly plant the seeds to make sure the rain didn’t wash them away. And for once, Jungkook actually looked like he was listening, taking the time to ask questions when he didn’t completely understand why you had to do something a particular way. One question actually had you throwing your head back in laughter, ugly snorts and squeaky noises escaping your throat at how amused you were.

You always did hate your laugh, but for some reason Jungkook was mesmerized at how beautiful you looked, too caught up in how the sunlight framed your face just perfectly and how the rays hit the expanse of perfect skin down the column of your neck. He must’ve not been paying attention and got distracted while trying to cut something from the ground, because the next thing you know he was letting out a hiss and you heard the thump as he recoiled his hand effectively dropping the small shears. You jumped towards him in concern, reaching out to take his hand in yours to inspect the wound on his finger.

“Oh! Are you alright, Jungkook?!” You say and pull the digit up to your face, turning it to fully grasp how serious the cut was.

Jungkook hadn’t responded at first, heart warmed by how worried you seemed. Your face was so close to his he became distracted again, only realizing you had asked a question when you peeked up at him waiting for a response. He nodded, “Yes. I’m fine. Just a cut.”

You tsked, “I think we might need to wrap it. We can come back later to clean up but right now let's take you to wash this off, hmm?” You gave him a small smile of confirmation.

Jungkook didn’t say much else as you two got up off the ground, following you back towards the castle. When he finally did utter something from behind you, his words made you gasp, “You’re lucky I love you.”

[afictionalwhore]

A Mermaid’s Mate

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A/N: this was inspired by a long and beautiful conversation with @jadequeen88 about nasty Pirate!Dabi and a little Mermaid!Reader and poor first mate Tenko. I’m an absolute slut for mermaid AUs and Dabi just seemed like the natural choice for a scummy pirate.

Pirate!Dabi x Mermaid!Reader ; little bit of First mate!Tenko

Words: 4K

T/W: noncon, fingering, little bit of anal play, mermaid anatomy, cucking, Captain Dabi is unhygienic in his sex life.

⎽⎼⎻⎺⎺⎻⎼⎽⎽⎼⎻⎺⎺⎻⎼⎽⎽⎼⎻⎺⎺⎻⎼⎽⎽⎼⎻⎺⎺⎻⎼⎽⎽⎼⎻⎺⎺⎻⎼⎽⎽⎼⎻⎺⎺⎻⎼⎽⎽⎼⎻⎺⎺⎻⎼⎽⎽⎼⎻⎺⎺⎻⎼⎽

Captain Dabi was to be, above all else, feared. He had developed quite the reputation for himself, covered head to toe in tattoos and piercings, a tuft of unruly black hair, and maniacal blue eyes that burned with something almost inhumane. Dabi quickly rose to be one of the most feared pirates of the sea. The rumors had spread like wildfire. He’ll steal your eldest daughter and eat her heart! had to be Dabi’s favorite. Combined with his love of pyrotechnics, the dirty captain found relative ease in pillaging unsuspecting coastal towns throughout the seas, leaving quite the impressive trail of broken hearts and devastated livelihoods.

Despite his fearsome reputation, Dabi found himself tossing and turning at night recently, unable to fall asleep. News, rumors, that his father’s navy fleet had been following his ship did not settle well with the captain. Sure, Dabi had stolen this ship from said fleet but that, amongst many other unmentionable crimes, was just a part of the territory of life as a pirate. What better way to start off a life of piracy than to change his name and steal a ship from the father he hated so much? Regardless of the rumors, as Dabi told himself they were, he had found himself unable to sleep that night. 

Dabi swung his legs up and over the hammock that swayed with the motions of the ship, hopping on the floor of his quarters with a small thud. He swaggered up to his cabinet before swinging the doors open, hoping to find some rum. None. That was fine. He’d just have to ask Tenko if he had some. That’s what a first mate was for anyways, right? Besides, a walk across the deck under the crisp ocean night air would do him some good, maybe clear his head and relax him a bit. That’s just what the doctor, him, prescribed: a night under the stars with his one true love, rum.

As he made his way towards Tenko’s quarters, he saw a light at the end of his ship. As Dabi crossed the deck, he could make out the skinny twig of a man hanging over the railing, pale blue hair shining under the light like a beacon.

Scurvy must have got the poor soul, Dabi thought as he creaked along the open deck, as though that would explain the man’s behavior, despite the fact that Tenko had always been, in Dabi’s eyes, a weird one.

When Dabi stole his father’s ship, he brought Tenko on as his first mate, since that backstabbing Keigo had joined the Navy with Dabi’s father. Dabi thought he’d have to drag Tenko on board, knowing the awkward man much preferred the indoors, always hunched over a pile of books. To Dabi’s surprise, it didn’t take the shy, blue-haired man much convincing at all to join. 

“Do you think we’ll see a mermaid?” Tenko had asked Dabi as they snuck away and sailed into their new life under the veil of stars. 

“Sure, kid.” Dabi shrugged, more focused on the rope work than whatever mythical creature prowled the ocean depths.

Ever since then, Tenko was always ranting and raving about mermaids. Dabi had already given the scrawny man lecture upon lecture after catching Tenko throwing their limited food supplies out into the ocean. It was only a matter of time before the man died trying  to fuck some poor, unknowing ocean creature in belief it was a living, breathing, genuine mermaid. 

That’ll just leave more rum for me. Dabi thoroughly believed, turning back towards Tenko’s quarters to retrieve the rum, head too full of worries about his father to bother with lecturing Tenko once again. Karma would deal with Tenko for wasting their food yet again.

Dabi had almost made it to Tenko’s quarters when he heard it: a soft, feminine giggle. Dabi wondered if he had already drunk the last of his rum that night and simply forgot. There was no way a woman could be on board, not without womanizer Captain Dabi knowing. It had been only Dabi and Tenko for weeks. He was simply hearing things. He had to have been.

Dabi decided to creep closer, just within earshot of Tenko and the mystery woman. He heard Tenko’s raspy voice—“fruit”—following by a lighter, almost airy voice— “foooot?”

“Try again,” said Tenko, leaning a little further over the railing. “Frrrruit.”

“Frrrrrrooooot. Frrrrrrrruit. Frrrruit. Fruit!”

“Good! That’s perfect!” Tenko exclaimed before tossing whatever fruit he had stolen from the kitchens into the water. “You’re learning so fast!”

Dabi expected a splash, prayed there would be a splash. Instead, his ears were greeted with more giggles. Dabi shook his head before turning around and slinking back to his quarters without the rum.

“I’m out of damn mind,” he mumbled as he tucked himself into his hammock, the swaying of the ship lulling him to sleep.

It didn’t stop there. The food kept disappearing. Tenko was just a little too eager to stay out at night for someone who usually didn’t enjoy the fresh air. Although Dabi felt his first mate could really use some refreshing ocean air. Dabi found himself sneaking out at night, stalking his first mate and listening in on his conversations with whatever the man was talking to. 

This had gone on for about a week. Dabi was growing more and more restless, finding himself inexplicably irate with his first mate. Conversations with Tenko usually were about some ocean myth, but they began to take a turn that left Dabi more irritated than uncomfortable or bored, especially combined with what Dabi was watching at night.

“Did you know mermaids can mate with humans?” Tenko said one clear day as he was cleaning the deck while Dabi charted their course.

Dabi stopped mid step and turned to face his friend. “Please don’t go and fuck the manatee.”

“I’m not going to fuck a manatee! I’m telling you! There’s genuine mermaids out there!” Tenko was working himself up into a fit.

“Fine, fine,” Dabi waved him off. “I believe ya.” I need to get this man laid. I need to get laid, fuckin’ Christ. 

“Unrelated, though,” he pointed an accusatory finger at his first mate. “Tenko, do you happen to know where the food has been goin’? I know mannin’ a ship with just us two fuckers is a lot, but we really can’t be out of apples already.”

“No, captain. No, sir,” Tenko fumbled with his fingers. “I can’t say I do know. Perhaps we have some rats?”

“Rats, yes, of course.” Dabi said, fearsome blue eyes never leaving Tenko’s red ones. “Rats. Tenko, make a note for when we’ve stopped in the next town. We need to pick up more apples and rat traps.”

“Yes, sir.” Tenko scurried away, and Dabi didn’t see his first mate for the rest of the evening.

The interaction had left Dabi more irritated than usual. Not only did he have to deal with a lunatic first mate, but he had to deal with the fact that said first mate wasn’t actually crazy. Add that to the stress of being out on the open sea for a week since he had heard the rumors of his father catching up with him and Dabi found himself on another sleepless night in need of a drink.

Knowing that he had already drank the supply he had stolen from Tenko a week ago and there would be nothing in the cabinet, Dabi once again heaved his body out of his hammock, boots hitting the hard wooden floor of his quarters, and found himself making his way across the deck under the moonlight to Tenko’s quarters.

Once again, there was Tenko, in his regular spot, hanging over the railing with his lamp beside him resting on said railing and illuminating his pale features.

“Tenko.” Dabi heard his first mate’s scratchy voice and watched as Tenko pointed a long finger towards himself. He heard the water move, splashing ever so softly, before the airy voice replied. “Teeeehnnnkooooooh. Teeeenko. Tenko!” Musical giggles floated into the night air.

“Yes!” Tenko moved his hand over the ship’s railing to point out into the water.

After a few moments, a soft voice answered back, telling Tenko your name.

Tenko sighed and repeated what you had told him. “That’s beautiful.”

Dabi scoffed. A burning feeling in his chest left him uncomfortable. That was enough foolery for him. God he needed a drink. He quickened his pace to Tenko’s quarters, nothing but rum on his mind.

Dabi made it to Tenko’s quarters, the blue-haired man too distracted to notice Dabi sneaking about. He fumbled around the room with the sway of the ship, throwing objects around until he had found what he was looking for. Rum in hand, Dabi left to return to his own quarters. As he made his way back, he overheard Tenko’s raspy voice once again.

“I love you.”

Dabi could feel the bile rising up. As he went to take a drink of the rum, bringing the bottle up to his lips, a gust of wind and a big wave caused the ship to rock, throwing the drunken captain off balance. He fell with a loud thud, disrupting Tenko. Dabi couldn’t believe his luck when the wave had also thrown Tenko’s lamp into the ocean below. He quickly scurried back to his room, going unnoticed by Tenko. Still, it was just the two of them on board. Tenko had to know Dabi had been spying on now.

The next night, Dabi found himself in a similar predicament as the first night he had caught you and Tenko, sleepless and drunk. Funds were running low. More importantly, the rum was running low, nearly out at the pace Dabi was drinking. He had been pacing the floor of his cabin, when it finally clicked.  Dabi heard the giggling once again, annoyed by the creature and his first mate’s consistent flirting. 

You. You were the answer. How much had Tenko taught you to speak? Surely Dabi could teach you a few new words, a few more tricks. Dirty sailors would run for miles for a chance with you. Hell, even some of the corrupt lords of the nearby islands would pay the big bucks to look at you. If Keigo was still the man he was when Dabi and him were friends, Dabi was sure Keigo would keep his mouth shut about his whereabouts to his father in exchange for letting his little mermaid suck him off. 

Further, Dabi convinced himself that he would be doing Tenko a great service by catching you. Dabi was a smart man. Growing up under his Navy officer father’s thumb, Dabi had heard a fair share of mermaid tales before meeting Tenko. What kind of friend would Dabi be to let poor, innocent, unsuspecting Tenko fall in the clutches of an evil mermaid?

Last night was too close for comfort for Dabi. He had to move fast. They would be docking soon. It would be the perfect chance for Dabi to see how much he could make off of you.  He swung open the door to quarters to see Tenko making his way towards your usual meeting spot.

“Tenko!” he barked.

The young man jumped and turned around, hiding whatever leftover food he had saved from dinner behind his back, hoping Dabi wouldn’t notice the disappearance if it were from his own plate.

“Yes, captain?” he asked.

“We’re docking at the next town. I need you to take inventory and make a list of what we need.”

“Yes, sir.” Tenko made his way to the storage below deck.

“No!” Dabi yelled. Tenko turned around, confused. “Start with the kitchens.”

“O-okay, sir.” Tenko turned to make his way to the kitchen, near his own quarters and across from Dabi’s.

Once Tenko was out of sight and well in the kitchens, Dabi ran below deck. He grabbed the net from the storage, and headed to the spot he always saw Tenko waiting for you at.

You had swam up to your usual spot, waiting for Tenko. Tonight, you were a bit more impatient. You had been practicing the phrase Tenko told you the night before and were excited to tell him. You felt the footsteps approaching, the vibrations rippling through the air and water. Something felt off. The footsteps were heavier than Tenko’s. A small voice in the back of your mind screamed at you to swim away, but in your excitement to impress Tenko, you pushed the thought back. Perhaps Tenko just wasn’t feeling well.

Finally, a figure appeared over the edge of the railing. You popped your head up from below the surface, splashing water as you threw your arms up in the air to exclaim “Love you!” 

It happened too fast for you to comprehend. At a dizzying speed, a net was thrown over you, trapping you in and dragging you across the water before hoisting you up into the air. You struggled against the bindings, crying breathlessly, “Tenko! Tenko!” 

As the net containing you was swung around the ship to hold you over the deck, you heard a rough, dark voice. “Tenko? No, doll. The name’s Dabi.”

You were dropped unceremoniously on the deck floor, net still draped over you.

In the commotion, Tenko had returned from the kitchens. He ran towards Dabi and you, trapped under the heavy net on the hard flooring. Whatever he was holding in his hands fell to the floor.

“No!” Tenko cried, calling out your name, reaching for you.

“Please don’t!” Tenko sobbed, falling on his knees. “Please. You don’t understand. I love her. Mermaids mate for life! I’m sure she feels the same for me.”

An inexplicable anger rushed over Dabi at Tenko’s pleading. When had Tenko ever been with a woman? And he expects this mythical beauty to love him? Dabi felt that he could burn up his whole ship with his rage at his first mate’s stupidity. 

That at least, is what he told himself. Dabi would be the last to admit that he was actually jealous of Tenko and whatever relationship he had with you. You were beautiful beyond words. How a creature as breathtaking as you could love someone as shrimpy as Tenko was beyond Dabi, and it left him pissed. 

“Would you just shut up!” Dabi spat at him. “Are you stupid? I thought you were the expert here. You should know it doesn’t have any feelings. It doesn’t love you, it only wants to kill you.” 

Dabi’s cruel words ached in Tenko’s heart. He clutched at the thin fabric of his shirt over his chest.

“You’re a pitiful excuse of a man! If you love her so much, then just take her from me!” He dragged the net off your shaking frame. “Oh wait. I’d have ya tossed overboard for mutiny. What a piss situation for you then. Well! Go on! Watch your woman, your thing, get claimed as your captain’s!”

Tenko’s head dropped. His whole body dropped. His hands gripped his dirty pants so tight his knuckles turned white. Tears ran down his face, dripping off his chin and onto his dry, cracking knuckles and pants.

Dabi swung a leg over you to straddle you at your waist, knees pressing in on either side of your slippery fin.

“Let a real man show you some real fun. Okay, babe?” Dabi smiled down at your quivering form, shaking with fear and cold.

Dabi ran a long, cold finger up and down over your small slit, just below where your fin and waist merged. After it had gained enough wetness from your natural slick and the ocean water that was still dripping off you, Dabi pushed the rough finger into you, causing you to gasp and jump.

“She’s so tight, Tenko!” Dabi exclaimed as he curled a finger against your spongy walls. “Well, damn! If I’d have known she was this tight, I’d have caught her a long time ago. Why didn’t you tell me she’d be this tight? Holdin’ out on your captain now?” 

You thrashed around the deck, beating your tail against the wooden floor of the deck and gasping for air, reaching out for Tenko, as Dabi continued to finger fuck you. 

“Tenko! Tenko!” you sobbed.

“How many times do you have to tell you, bitch?” Dabi growled. “The word you’re looking for is Dabi.” He shoved two more fingers in your small slit, pumping a few times before spreading them. “Gotta make sure this little mer-cunt is nice and stretched out for me.” Dabi chuckled to himself.

Dabi continued to finger fuck you as you sobbed below him. Your clawing at the wood of the deck had stopped, little scratch marks left behind in the wake. The air was heavy with the sounds of you gasping for air between your sobs and hiccups and the squelching of Dabi’s fingers in you.

“Oh? And what’s this?” Dabi took the hand that wasn’t busy with your cunt and poked a finger around your tighter hole just above the slit he currently had three dirty fingers stuffed in. He basked in your widening eyes and shocked gasps as he continued to finger around.

“Tell me, Tenko,” Dabi mused. “Is this her tight little asshole?”

Tenko, still staring at the deck, answered bleakly. “Yes, captain.”

“Fascinating.” Dabi slid his thumb past the rim of muscle. A thrill ran down his spine as you jumped underneath him.

“You like that, baby?” Dabi applied more pressure with his thumb. You squirmed more beneath him and cried. 

“Shhhh” Dabi cooed. “You’ll feel good real soon.” He turned to Tenko, who could be mistaken for a statue with how still the man was. “Tenko, tell me where her clit is.”

“She doesn’t have one like a human girl, sir,” came the small, dry reply.

“Oh? Then how is she supposed to feel any pleasure?”

“You see the thin skin around her waist? Right by her fin and skin?”

“Yes. What about it?”

“That’s her skirt. Right at the base of her skirt, where it dips in that V shape, that’s essentially her clit.”

“Ah, right here?” Dabi took the thumb out of your ass and pressed against the small V where your fin and skin met.

You couldn’t contain the moan that spilled out of your mouth. Dabi smirked at your reaction. 

“Bingo,” he said, as he massaged small circular patterns in that spot. He curled the fingers inside you, pressing against your gummy walls, before dragging them out. As your moans increased in pitch, Dabi increased his speed. Soon, you were putty in his hands, on the brink of orgasm.

“Come for me, doll.” Dabi whispered as your walls clenched on his fingers. He pressed once more on your “clit” and the knot tightening within you broke. You threw your head back against the wood of the deck, eyes squeezing shut, and cried out.

“Good girl. Good girl.” Dabi praised. 

Once you had calmed down from your orgasm, Dabi raised up to his knees, still trapping you underneath him. Your previous orgasm in combination with the fight you had put up left you exhausted below him. You looked up at the clinking of Dabi undoing his belt. He pushed his ratty pants down just far enough to release his aching cock. Being with you had excited him in a way that no human girl he had slept with before ever had. He had never been so hard and just watching you writhe behind him was enough to turn his cock an angry purple, precum leaking from the tip. 

Your eyes widened in fear as you took in the sight of him. He was bigger, much much bigger than any merman your mated sisters had told you about. He was pierced too, a Jacob’s ladder crawling up the underside of his massive length. This was completely foreign to you, and only served to make you all the more scared. Your adrenaline kicked in once again, and you resumed your beating and clawing against the deck, screaming “Tenko! Tenko!”

Tenko sobs resumed as he heard your calls for him. He could do nothing but watch Dabi stroke himself with you fighting beneath him.

“Please,” he rasped, barely audible.

“Would you just shut the fuck up before you make me go soft?” Dabi shouted at the man.

Tenko bowed his head again, resembling a kicked puppy. He sobbed and hiccuped, only serving to turn Dabi on more despite what he had just yelled at the man.

Dabi gave himself a few languid pumps as he lined himself up with your sopping cunt. You stilled as you felt the tip against you, frozen in fear.

“This is going to hurt at first, but I promise you’ll feel good soon,” he whispered to you, placing a hand on either side of your head and dipping down to kiss you. You turned your face to avoid him, only causing the possessed man to laugh.

As Dabi pushed himself in, inch by agonizing inch, your mouth fell open in a silent scream. Your hands scratched at the floor of the deck, trying to find purchase as Dabi stretched you. Dabi let out a groan as he bottomed out, tip kissing your cervix. The initial stretch felt like it was burning you from the inside out. He was too big.

“God. You must be a virgin, huh? Ready for the real fun, doll?” Dabi smiled down at you before pulling out and slamming back in.

You gave a scream, and threw your arms around Dabi, desperately trying to hold on to something, causing him to chuckle. He repeated the motion, again and again. You buried your face into the crook of his neck. The pirate smelt awful, but you were too scared to let go of him. However, as he had promised you earlier, the pain had subsided into something much better. You couldn’t help but moan at the feeling of Dabi’s piercing dragging along your walls, his cockhead hititng your cervix with each thrust.

“I’m not gonna last long.” Dabi grunted against your ear. Between your soft moans and warm, sticky cunt, Dabi was in ecstasy.

He lifted a hand to press back at your sensitive spot, causing you to squeal and tighten your grip on him. Your walls spasmed around him and clamped down on his cock. As he picked up his speed, Dabi’s thrusts became sloppy, beating against the barrier to your womb.

“Gonna cum,” Dabi panted. “Cum with me. Cum all over this too big cock.” He pressed on your spot, and your orgasm ripped through you, hot pleasure running through your body as Dabi painted your insides white.

As Dabi pulled himself out of your vise grip, cum dribbled out of your too small hole. Dabi marveled at your gaping cunt, whistling at the mess he had made of you. 

“Would you look at that,” he spread your hole, causing more cum to leak out. 

He stood up over you to fix his pants. Once he was fully dressed again, Dabi picked you up, cum still leaking out of your small slit, and dropped your lifeless, ragdoll form on the hard floor of the deck in front of Tenko, who lunged for you. 

Tenko cradled you in his arms. Your head lolled over his arm as his fell on your shoulder. His tears dripped down on your barely rising chest as sobbed racked through his small frame, the salty tears from the both of you mixing with the ocean water on the deck. 

Dabi scoffed at the scene in front of him.

“Better go get her some water and fast. How long can mermaids be out of water, again? Doesn’t look like she has a lot of time left,” He said to Tenko. Dabi wouldn’t be surprised if you were in shock.

He turned on the heel of his boot to retire for the night, but soft, broken sob stopped him in his tracks.

“Daaaah-beeee. Daaah-bee. Dabi. Dabi!” Despite being held safe in Tenko’s arms, you were reaching out for Dabi, crying for the man who had devastated you. Your pitiful state pierced his heart. 

Mermaids mate for life.