#they have matching blood stains on their lips. how curious.

[swagstar]

Find me dead, b-b-bathroom floor My wrists hurt, find my head in the yard Upload me dead on BestGore.com

[fuji-sen]

MONSTER UNDER THE BED

a scar x reader oneshot / miniseries ༉‧₊˚༉‧₊˚.

based on the music video: Monster under the bed by Emily Mei.

fandom: wuthering waves (game)

characters: reader, Scar (delinquent and jock-ish?), Rover, mentions of Baizhi.

setting: modern au, characters (most) are in a college setting.

warnings 🖤❤️: stalking, yandere themes, drugging, kidnapping, obsession, lovesick???, scar, off the scene violence, suggestive intimacy or gifts (used underwear), suggested sex behind the scenes.

disclaimer: made when wuthering waves recently got out, so characters may seem ooc in the future. If it does seem ooc, I'll maybe consider rewriting it in the future.

˖⁺ ・🔪⋆ ♡ 💌・ ⁺ ˖

You stare at the man who towered over you, your body was sprawled on your bed, the sheets in a state of disarray, your room was dark except for the soft moonlight that poured in from your window. Your hair and skin was wet, and you were in nothing but a towel as you had gotten out of the bath.

Fluffy locks of peppermint colored hair framed the man's face very well, his eyes, mismatched just like his hair, stared deep into her eyes with a nearly indescribable emotion.

His hands held your wrists, pulling your arms above your head, his weight nearly holding you down. His lips tugged to a smirk, "I got to say, you put up quite a fight, and a cute one at that but.."

"You're no match for me little lamb."

a year ago...

It was just the start of your second year at college at Jinzhou Academy. Your hands smoothened the creases of your uniform as you stood at the entrance of the main building. Numerous students walked by, some had different colored hair, others had scars or echos for pets or assistances, some were focused on their textbooks and school work.

"(name)!" A voice called you over, and you turned to greet your friend, Rover, who had a mop of black hair and enchanting gold eyes. They made their way towards you, "sorry I kept you waiting!" they apologized.

You shook your head with a smile, "it's alright Rover, what kept you busy?"

"Almost got into trouble with Scar.." The black haired student sighed in annoyance, your brows raised as your interest was piqued by the mere mention of the name, 'Scar.' He was one of the more famous delinquent or troublemaker at Jinzhou. That's all you knew, you were relatively quiet, bordering on introvert, and although you did have friends, you never made it a mission to seek more having been buried by your curriculum.

"I suggest you stay away from him." Rover grimaced, noticing your curious look. You quickly scoff "oh come on, I'm not stupid." you brushed their expressions off.

"Well, well, well" an unfamilliar voice was heard by you two, and you find another student, in a much more incomplete and messy uniform and a rather bloodied state, approach you. Specifically Rover.

The scarred face student wrapped an arm around your friend's shoulder, "how could you snitch on me Rover~! and I just thought we were warming up to each other!" he sighed playfully hurt.

You scanned his appearance, his tie was loose, merely hanging on his neck, the top buttons of his shirt wasn't buttoned, and instead of the blazer or vest, he opted for a striking red jacket/coat, His hair was messy yet looked so fluffy, with the colors of red and white. His eyes were mismatched, perhaps heterochromia? he had red and grey hair, complimenting and matching his hair.

"Get off me Scar!" Rover's words fell on deaf ears as Scar laughed. "Oh come on, you're just rubbing more salt on my wounds" Scar said, a hand on his chest "and after I made the offer for you to join us!"

"I don't want to join!"

You weren't paying attention, continuing to scan the male, he had gold earrings and black gloves, he also had a black bag around his chest, and you could see the numerous scars around his arms perhaps from hard labor or countless fights.

On his face was a large scar, but it seemed to only enhance his beauty, his hands were stained with almost dried up blood, some of it was smeared on his face.

Your brows furrowed, 'what is this feeling..?' you wondered, as you placed a hand on your chest, looking conflicted. Your cheeks were starting to get flushed and your heart was beating rapidly.

"Are you okay (name)?" Rover shrugged off Scar as they made their way to you, worried clear in their eyes. "Yeah, I'm fine." You reassured him as you still continued to look at Scar, who finally turned his attention towards you.

The smile on his face had widened, "and who's this little lamb?" Scar asked and feeling threatened, Rover put their arm in front of you, as if guarding you from the slowly approaching student.

Scar easily slapped Rover's hand away, he leaned towards you, enough for you to smell ashes and smoke. "your name?" he asked, his smile seemed to mellow into a more charismatic one, less of the manic one like before. It seemed more like a mask.

You gave him your name despite Rover's objections.

And seeing as how hopeless it was to stay, Rover took you away, you'd glance back as you walk, and your eyes would meet mismatched ones.

"It's a shame our short date had to come to an end." He pouted as you got farther and farther.

Whether or not he was serious, you didn't care to know. You find yourself focusing on your own feelings, researching at google, you find that the answer was that you simply fell for the scarred student.

You couldn't tell Rover however or seek guidance, they didn't seem to like scar and you didn't trust your other friends.

You could remember how you got to that point in the future.

It started with the little things.

It was your and a few of your classmates' designated cleaning day, but you find yourself alone in the classroom, your cleaning mates decided to play hooky yet again. You frowned but shook it off, there was nothing that could be done. You begun to push the chairs in the desk and erasing the blackboard. But the eraser was filled with chalk so you opened the windows and began hitting the eraser so the dust would fly off.

And then your eyes seemed to catch a peppermint haired boy, and you couldn't stop staring as he played soccer, he skillfully dribbled the ball pass his opponents and kicked it, scoring a point for his team.

leaning forward and eyes squinted to try and get a better look at him as he raised his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face, and then-

A gasp escaped your lips, jumping away from the window, as if sensing your stare, he turned to look at your direction, you started to sweat, some part of you hoped that he wasn't looking at or for you, but there was another part of you, a small and tempting voice, that spoke, making you think he was looking at you intentionally, like he knew you were there.

And so you continued on with your cleaning.

Your everyday routine started to change, adapt as you continued to increasingly seek out Scar. Not in a social or chatting way, but in a stalker type of seeking out.

Rover and your other friends could sense your change, but was unable to point out what changed specifically, and you learned to hide it.

The gallery of your phone was slowly filled with candid shots of the apple in your eyes. That one previously empty space in your cabinet was starting to get filled by trinkets and printed out photographs and sticky notes of your 'senpai', your love.

Trinkets such as used bottles or pens or handkerchief you stole from him while he wasn't in his classroom. Sticky notes that filled with compliments and notes about him.

Scar note #1: he doesn't like bitter food or overly sweet and fatty foods.

Scar note #5: he's a member of the sports club while also being in a gang or group named Fractsidus.

Scar note #7: he's having difficulties with science but excels in PE.

You got more bolder as you become more skilled in stalking him, you'd start to leave gifts or anonymous notes inside the drawer of his desk or bag whenever you could. Your gifts vary depending on your mood,

sometimes it was meticulously written notes for his science class, one you had to work hard to learn yourself and even have to ask Baizhi for help, other days you'd leave snacks or bottled drinks for him, food that you knew he liked.

once you were bold, and perhaps becoming more sick? perverted? horny? in love, you sent a pair of your underwear. used ones even, with a particular scent and a white patch.

And yet, your gifts garnered no outward reaction from Scar, at least, from what you could tell.

Even helping him clean or patch up his wounds, or directly communicating or interacting with him face to face, although he regarded you with playfulness or amusement, to you it didn't seem like he was interested in you at all.

But it did not deter you, it motivated you even, like a moth to a flame or perhaps Icarus and the sun. You knew he was dangerous or just bad for you, but it didn't stop you, you wanted him, and you were willing to do whatever it takes to have him.

The notes on your closet became more erratic and less cutesy, the handwriting deepened, almost ripping the paper.

My love <3

So handsome 𖹭

I will have him.

MINE.

You find yourself investigating, procuring questionable materials like a stun gun and thick long rope. You begun to fall into a rabbit hole, and you began to slip in terms of cautiousness, but perhaps that will be for another oneshot~

˖⁺ ・🔪⋆ ♡ 💌・ ⁺ ˖

And then you did it, you finally snapped as you heard that someone planned to confess to Scar. You grabbed a small bottle that had grinding up sleeping pills and headed to school. You finally decided you were going to get what you so desperately wanted.

. . .

You knew Scar's schedule well, and so you knew the perfect time to strike. Scar usually stayed at School very late at night, seemingly doing something on his laptop in the library. And so while he was away having went to the bathroom, you grabbed his bottle from the desk, opening it to hear a fresh pop and then you sedated it.

You left as quickly and as quietly as you came, hiding behind the numerous shelves of the library, you managed to peek through an opening, watching him return, behind his back you could see him reach for the bottle and.. he drank it.

And when he soon fell asleep, you took him away to your apartment. You closed his laptop quickly, putting it in his bag which you also brought to your apartment with you.

After maneuvering around the cameras and stuffing him unceremoniously in a guitar case which he surprisingly fitted in?? Scar was on your bed, and you were slightly out of breath, your hand reached to brush his locks away from his face "I'm sorry I had to put you in a guitar case" you softly apologized, "ah~" you leaned towards his face "you are so beautiful" your fingers would graze his scar, and then he stirred.

With wide eyes you quickly tied him up and tape his mouth, you began to stretch your arms, and mentally you decided to go take a bath.

As you get a towel and headed to the bathroom you closed the lights of the room and went out, quietly closing the door.

In the bathroom, you quickly stripped off all your clothes and after filling the bathtub with water, you dipped your toes and then entered the bathtub. You sighed in relief, praising yourself on a rather productive day.

Once you were done you got out of the bathtub and wrapped a towel around yourself, cursing as you remember you forgot to bring a change of clothes. And you walked back to your room, ignoring the wet puddle you tracked in the hallway.

Entering your bedroom you find that something was off but seeing him sleeping soundly on your bed you relaxed, you headed to your cabinet, maneuvering in your dark room to not bother your sleeping love.

As you were about to open your cabinet someone pulled you, and you find yourself in the present predicament.

back to the present

"You're no match for me little lamb."

You stared at him, a bit pale, cheeks flush at the intimate position you were in, your mouth was open but you were unable to express any words.

"Got nothing to say huh?" he laughed in amusement as his grip on your wrists loosened. "Did you think I was that careless to get kidnapped by you?" He questioned and you looked at him as the gears in your head started to turn.. "you let me?"

"Of course, you were such a devoted little lamb, I just had to reward you." He cooed, his other hand cupping your face and you purred, leaning into his warm touch.

"I see" you said softly and you find yourself relaxing, if he willingly let himself get kidnapped by you, then there was some mutual feelings or respect,, right?

Scar hummed, taking his hand away from your cheek causing you to pout, "now how should I reward you next? you did a lot for me after all, such a good little lamb." he said, his hand made its way to your neck, his fingers trailing down, leaving fire in its trail as your body began to feel hot.

You squirmed under him as he reached your collarbone, it taunted you, almost daring it to go further down and perhaps under your towel.

"What do you want?" he asked, there was something burning in his eyes, a look you were familiar with.

"You."

He laughed but didn't seem opposed or disgusted, if anything he seemed pleased, "Good, but if you want me, you have to give yourself to me in return." he told you.

"You already have me."

His eyes crinkled in some sort of twisted joy, and then it confirmed it. The look in his eyes was one of twisted love and obsession, one that mirrored your own, if not overpowering it.

That night was when you officially tied the knot of this twisted love.

He was yours, finally.

And finally (officially) you were his.

˖⁺ ・🔪⋆ ♡ 💌・ ⁺ ˖

Sorry for the low quality gif at the top, I may or may not make a part 2 and 3, depending whether you guys like it or not. Ehe~

[agyraty]

Heartshot

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Arthur Morgan x Reader

Summary: Taking a ride with Arthur, you found yourself ambushed by O’Driscols, you were shot straight through the stomach..

Angst, fluff, some gore (I’m not good at writing it so)

Not my best work, hopefully you guys like it!

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Arthur rode back to camp as quickly as he could, your weak body sitting in the saddle in front of him. His eyebrows knitted together tightly, a clear testament to the turmoil churning within. He held your limp body against him tightly, staring out at the road ahead. His free arm snapped the reigns of his horse, driving it faster.

"Stay with me, keep those eyes open!" he urged, cradling your weakened form. You had been Ambushed by O'Driscolls during while on your way to town to pick up things for Dutch, a bullet had found you, tearing through your midsection.

Arthur's embrace acted as both a shield and a sanctuary, his palm pressing firmly against your belly to slow the blood that quickly pored out. "We’re Almost to camp, I promise I’ll get you help there." he spoke with hushed urgency.

“Arthur..” you whispered breathlessly. Your hands rested atop of his, pressing it farther into the puncture wound on your stomach. This was the most intense pain you have ever felt, every little movement you made had sent searing pain throughout your body. Your knuckles began to turn white due to how tightly you held his hand, You weren’t meaning to squeeze him so hard.

His horse sprinted through the dense forest, staying on the path that would soon take you to horseshoe overlook. Each hard step the horse took, rocked your body, sending waves of pain through your wound.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you darling.” He whispered gently in your ear, trying to comfort you, all the while trying to keep himself calm as well. He was freaking out, his mind running with possibilities. He was so worried that he wouldn’t make it in time.. that you’d die in his arms.

You fought with all your might to stay strong, but eventually, the weight became too much. Tiny sobs shook your body, betraying the emotions you usually kept hidden.

Arthur could see the camp come into view, a small hopeful sigh escaped his lips. He urged his horse to go faster, matching the pounding rhythm of his heart.

The blood quickly pouring from your wound stained the fabric of your long sleeve shirt. You quickly began to feel light headed by how much blood you were loosing.. not to mention the awful pain.

"Darling, stay with me. Don't close your eyes," Arthur pleaded, tightening his grasp, and pulling you farther into his chest.

He pulled his horse up the road, and into the camp. He skidded to a stop just at the hitching poles, and jumped off, pulling you off his steed, and holding you carefully in his arms.

“Somebody, help!” Arthur called, quickly caring your frail body into camp. You curled farther into him, holding the puncture wound on your stomach tightly, letting out small whimpers and grunts.

You’ve never felt pain like this before. Sure you’ve been shot plenty of times, but in places like your leg and your arm. Never once have you been shot somewhere like this, somewhere so painful, so fatal..

He quickly carried you over to his cot, several other camp members following in tail, either curious if you were okay, or there to help.

Arthur laid you down with utmost care, his arms retreating as he cleared some space around you. "Back up, give her some air!" he yelled out firmly, ensuring no one crowded too close. “Arthur, what happened?” Susan asked him as she rushed over to his tent.

"Susan, she— shes been shot," he said, panic edging his voice as he moved to fetch supplies. "Reverend, we need you. I'll explain later—just help her now!"

Susan pulled up a chair besides the cot, swiping the medical supplies out of Arthur’s hand and placing them onto the night stand besides her.

She wastes no time, her hands find the hem of your shirt, and pull it up, just below your chest so that your whole stomach was exposed.

Your breathing grows heavier, panic coursing through your veins. You knew what was about to happen, and even though you needed it to be done to survive, you were scared. Your chest heaved up and down, eyes fixated on her hands as they grew closer to the bloody hole in your abdomen.

Susan reached her tweezers inside the wound, digging around for the bullet that hadn’t yet left. Your eyes shoot wide, a pained gasp leaving your lips as you began to squirm, instinctively reaching out for Arthur seeking solace and comfort.

"Just hang in there, darling. I ain't goin' anywhere," Arthur comforted, reaching down and placing his hands on your shoulders in a steady grip, offering a sense of comfort amidst the pain and fear, but also keeping you still.

"Just stay still, don’t move.” As the others worked to remove the bullet, Arthur's gaze never left your body, his concern evident in his eyes. He stayed in his spot, trying to keep you as still as possible so they could help you.

The pain shot through you as Susan carefully pried open your wound even farther. The edges of the torn skin exposed muscle underneath, a distressing sight.

In the midst of your groans from the intense pain, Arthur's hands laid on your shoulders, squeezing you slightly, providing comfort and support.

Susan quickly found the piece of lead that was lodged into you, pulling it out and dropping it beside you. Reverend to over, gently rubbing your stomach with a wet towel, cleaning it as best as he could.

"We've got it," Arthur whispered gently, his voice filled with reassurance. You faintly heard what he said as your head began to spin, eyes growing heavy. You knew you were about to loose consciousness..

“Hey— Hey! stay awake!” He spoke quickly, one of his hands going up to your cheek in a way to keep you awake. He could see your fatigue, he knew you were falling asleep.

You felt yourself going limp, your breathing growing slower as you began to succumb to your exhaustion. “I’m so tired..” Arthur’s Heart sank as he heard the last words you managed to say before passing out.

———

You awoke with a small gasp, your eyes squinting from the bright morning light. You quickly looked around, trying to piece together what had happened, you noticed the bandages on your body, and the slight ache coursing through your stomach. Confusion filled your mind, and then it all came rushing back—the events of the previous night.

You looked to the side, and there sat Arthur, his hand in yours. He was hunched over your bed, head resting in his palm.

“Arthur..” you whispered, although your voice was rather raspy. You watched as he quickly sat up straight, his eyes wide and his lips agape slightly. “Y/n..” he whispered, hand squeezing yours tightly.

You quickly looked away, not quite to sure what to say. You felt the need to apologize, for everything. For being reckless enough to get shot, and for making him deal with you. You felt like you burdened him.

“Arthur I— I’m sorry.” You shook your head, a frown finding its way to your lips. “I didn’t mean for you to have to deal with my mistakes.. I should have been foolish enough to allow myself to be shot—“

“No, no. Don’t apologize.” He hushed you quickly, shaking his head, bring his other hand up and squeezing your hand even tighter. “It wasn’t your fault, you didn’t ask for any of this to happen.”

His voice was filled with sincerity as he continued. “And I couldn’t bear to see you loose your life. I care about you to much for that.. so taking care of you was really no trouble at all.”

The warmth in your smile didn't wane, even as you attempted to push yourself up to sit. But as you moved, a sharp pain shot through your midsection. You froze, a pained grunt escaping your lips. The discomfort a rude reminder of your injuries. Through the haze of pain, you felt a surge of affection for Arthur, your heart swelling for the man who had stayed by your side through it all.

He quickly realized your hand, scooting one of his arms under your back to help you up. “Careful there.” He warned.

You smiled gratefully at him as he helped prop you up. “I would hug you, but unfortunately I can’t lean forward.” Arthur chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Then let me make it easier for you.”

He moved forwards, and gently pulled your body into a tight embrace, carefully though so he wouldn’t hurt you. He buries his head into the crook of your neck, taking a deep breath, breathing in your scent. He never wanted this to end. He was so worried that he was going to loose you, that he was up all night sitting here by your side.

And now that your awake, and okay, sitting in his arms, he couldn’t help but feel over joyed and happy. His grip around you tightened. “Oh Y/n.. I thought I lost you..” he whispered against your neck.

Your face flushed red, as you felt his breath against the sensitive skin of your neck. “Oh Arthur, I ain’t going down that easy.” You joked, a small airy chuckle escaping your lips, but you immediately regretted it as soon as you felt a sharp pain move throughout your belly.

“Careful now.” Arthur pulled back slightly, removing one of his arms from you and bringing it to rest on your stomach lightly as he looked down at it, not realizing just how close your faces were.

Your eyes widened a bit, his face was just inches away from yours. You could feel your heart beating faster in your chest, and by now you forgot all about your pain.

Arthur slowly brought his gaze up to meet yours, his cheeks were tinted a light pink as he realized how close he was. Not that he was complaining.

His hand slowly slipped up, and cupped your cheek, his eyes never leaving you as he did. By now your heart was beating a million miles an hour, and you could feel butterflies settle in the pit of your stomach. Oh god, how badly you just wanted to love forwards and kiss him.

It seemed your prayer had been answered. Your heart skipped a beat as Arthurs hand moved from your cheek to the back of your head, gently moving you forward, and placing his lips atop yours. You closed your eyes and wasted no time in kissing him back. It was a quick, yet passionate kiss, And you could tell he was trying to be gentle with you, considering all that had happened.

A soft whisper escaped your lips as he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that..” you confessed, feeling a mixture of emotions swirling inside you…

———————————————————

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Wildest dreams, pt. 33

Summary: The long awaited wedding is realized with a little help from friends, inspiring Y/N to make a difficult decision Paul would have never expected.

Warnings: angst, fluff, sexual innuendos, swearing, GRAPHIC depictions of death and blood

Wildest Dreams Masterlist

————————————

The first wedding dress she wore was burned to pieces. Chief Swan returned it a few weeks into the “investigation”, once they processed the evidence on it. Blood had seeped into the material, and dried it to crisp. The smell remained, metallic, strong enough to make her gag the moment she unsealed the bag. Paul didn’t wait for her to say it, making a bonfire in the backyard. With a slight nod on her behalf, it was tossed into the flames as the two stood watch in silence. It felt like a private vigil, no curious photographers or well-meaning friends they’d have to control their emotions for. No, they allowed themselves to wrap arms around one another and wept like children as the trauma of that day turned to smoke and ash. 

Y/N doesn’t regret that decision, even if she barely has anything to wear now. With their wedding half an hour away, she’s chewing on her bottom lip incessantly. The only white dress she owns used to be her mother’s. It’s a little old-fashioned and it has a funny smell to it, but it’s acceptable. If anything, her mother would probably love the idea or would have suggested it herself. The thing is, she’s never once wore it before. It’s one of the few things she’s kept of her mother, wearing it would ruin the magic. 

“You know she wouldn’t mind,” Paul says softly as he buttons his white shirt. “But if you feel uncomfortable, wearing another color for your wedding isn’t a mortal sin.”

Glancing at him, she smirks. “I want to match my groom, though if I decide on red it would match your cheeks.”

Winking at her, he chuckles. “I’m not blushing, it’s sunburn.”

“Sure it is,” Y/N grins.

“Whatever you decide, you’ll look amazing in it. The dress isn’t as important as the girl in it.”

Rolling her eyes, she huffs. “Easy for you to say. You always look like a Greek god.”

Pressing a kiss to her temple, he places his hand on her right hip. “I can never compare to you. When will you learn to accept your beauty?”

Looking up at Paul from under her long, mascara-coated lashes, Y/N suppresses a smile. “I love you.”

“I know,” he purses his lips, tapping his nose. “Pheromones are easy to pick up on.”

Cocking an eyebrow, she clicks her tongue. “Aaaand you’re banned from this room.”

Chuckling, he raises his hands in mock surrender. Taking a few steps back, he bites his bottom lip. “Alright, alright. I’ll eagerly wait for you to come down. Whatever you choose will be perfect, so don’t stress about it, okay?”

As the door closes, she sighs. Staring at the white dress, she runs her fingertips along the material carefully. It’s stiff, and a few sizes smaller than she used to wear. Losing weight during the grieving period will do her well now. Perfume should be enough to cover the funky smell from being in the closet for too long, and the color is still vibrant enough despite the small yellowish stain on the underdress. 

Inhaling deeply, she takes it out and pulls the zipper down. Putting it on, she realizes it’s a little snug on her hips, but it zips all the way up. It comes down to just below her knees, the slit on the back running a bit high for her taste, but her ass isn’t falling out of it and that’s all that matters.

This is when the feeling sinks in…this might be the beginning of the end. She doesn’t know how long she has, but her death is looming over both their heads like an axe and it’s only a matter of time until the blade finds her neck. 

She’s going to do this, be Paul’s wife. Making new memories, loving him, being happy – it’s all she’s ever wanted. Maybe their forever is a little shorter than she wished for, but it will be beautiful down to the bitter end. 

Swallowing thickly, she runs her hands down her thighs, making sure to straighten out any ripples. The long sleeves will be a hassle in a house full of shapeshifters who radiate heat, and the lace will definitely be itchy. Putting on red lipstick, she practices a soft smile in the mirror. Daisy will want to take a lot of photos, she can’t look like a gummy loon in all of them. She needs at least one good photo to frame for the house. 

The screen on her phone lights up. 

We will be there.

Alice? 

Y/N was thinking about maybe calling the Cullens and inviting them, but she planned on checking with Paul first…guess they would have invited them after all if Alice saw it in her vision. 

Smiling in disbelief, she heads to the stairs. Paul’s already talking to Embry and Seth, their voices are loud enough to be heard throughout the house. 

“You look beautiful,” Daisy covers her mouth, suppressing tears as she greets Y/N on the staircase. “Can’t believe you didn’t tell me you’d do this!”

“In my defense, we decided on it like an hour ago.”

Nodding vehemently, Daisy takes a few steps back before pulling out her phone. “Fine, fine, but let me take some pictures.”

“Can you make that less Dahmer sounding, please?” Y/N grimaces.

Giggling, Daisy sniffles. “I require a pose for the camera. Does that sound better?”

Striking a pose, Y/N winks. “Will this work, paparazzi?”

“Ah, yes, perfect!”

They had fun as the guys set up everything downstairs. Embry called Sam to ensure all the Bluetooth speakers were brought to the premises. Seth went to the store to grab some flowers, and Quil ended up in charge of setting up fairy lights. Jared and Kim decided to work on the playlist and a slideshow for the bride and groom. Emily ended up finishing dinner. The Cullens came prepared with dessert, a pair of heels Alice insisted would go best with the dress Y/N chose and Rosalie had found a headpiece for her hair. Bella and Esme helped curl everyone’s hair and Jacob bought her favorite perfume.

“Alice said you were out,” he forces a small smile for her sake but she can tell something’s on his mind. 

“Where’s Renesmee?”

Rubbing the back of his head, he shrugs. “She has a date.”

“What?”

“Yeah. I actually love it when she decides to do teenage stuff for a change.”

Frowning, Y/N shakes her head. “Aren’t you two together?”

“Sometimes,” Jacob sits by her side. “If I’m perfectly honest with you, I prefer being friends. I made that clear to her before. She’s finally taking that to heart and I’m glad.”

“Doesn’t that make you redundant down the line? If she marries someone, won’t that mean you’re kind of on the hook for life unable to do the same because you’re always waiting on her call?”

Nudging her with his shoulder, Jacob smiles. “Don’t worry about me. I’m going to figure my shit out.”

“Jasper is using his power,” she states. “The weight off my heart is lifted.”

“I’m not,” Jasper appears before her. “What you’re feeling is happiness. It’s not fabricated.”

Smiling, she grabs onto Jasper to pull herself onto her feet. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

“Really?”

“You helped me get through some dark times. I’m grateful. Truly.”

Managing a smile, Jasper nods. “It’s nice to be appreciated for a change.”

“If you’d stop using your powers to make me feel scared when you want to mess with me, I’d appreciate you more too.”

Jasper snorts. “You’re an easy mark.”

Shaking her head at their antics, Y/N heads downstairs to look for Paul, nearly toppling over. Jasper’s icy arm around her waist steadies her, earning himself a breathless thank you. 

Seeing all the decorations, her eyes widen. Heading toward the sound of Emmett and Embry bickering about song choices on the playlist, Y/N clears her throat.

Embry glances at her over his shoulder. “Just a sec!” His head snaps back immediately. “Holy hell, you didn’t have to go so hard!”

Running to her, in an instant Y/N is off the floor, spinning in a circle. Holding her up, Embry stops as a throaty laugh escapes him. “My jaw is literally on the floor. You’re gonna have to patch me up before getting married, doc.”

Slapping his shoulders, she giggles. “Shut uppp!”

“Not my fault you’re drop dead gorgeous. Paul will die!”

Pressing her lips in a thin line, she shakes her head. Joking about death in their house is not exactly in good taste, but it’s Embry. He means no harm.

“You can let me down now,” she instructs.

“Not until Daisy says she’s got a perfect shot.”

“Almost there, babe!”

Bursting out laughing, Y/N nods. “Fine, fine, ahh!”

“I hear someone’s been bothering my fiancé.” Paul leans on the doorway to the backyard, his hands wrapped across his chest. The sleeves of his shirt are pulled up, and Y/N has to physically stop herself from panting. He looks so stupidly handsome doing absolutely nothing but grinning at her and she knows everyone can hear her heart betray the way she would much rather be ripping her man’s clothes off.

“Alright, I guess I should put you down before you pounce on the wrong guy,” Embry teases.

Rolling her eyes, she smacks his arm playfully. “Just because you can tell, doesn’t mean it’s fine to verbalize it.”

Walking to Paul’s side, she watches his teeth grab onto the soft flesh of his bottom lip. He’s nervous too, and probably holding back as much as she is. 

“He is,” Edward grimaces. Shaking his head, he looks at Bella. “Maybe using your shield would be beneficial to us all for the night.”

A few steps away from Paul he loses his patience, grabbing her by the waist. She’s flush against his chest, her lips claimed by his hungrily. Her hands find a home on his face, holding her breath as he devours her mercilessly.

“We’ll need to fix her makeup,” Alice whines, eliciting a laugh from Y/N.

Paul pulls back, breathless as he laughs too. “She’s right about that.”

“You’d really match my red dress more now,” Y/N swipes some of the red lipstick from under his nose.

“I’ll work on Paul,” Alice sighs. “Rosalie, please handle Y/N.”

In a blink, Y/N finds herself in her room, sitting in front of her mirror. Her heart is bashing against her ribcage as she struggles to catch a breath. “I really hate when you do that!”

“You’re the one deciding a makeout session was worth messing up your makeup,” Rosalie reasons. “Besides, I have a better idea about all that,” she gestures to Y/N’s face. “Makeup, I mean. I’m not going to peel your face off, or anything.”

Smiling, Y/N nods. “Well, it’s good to hear you say it.”

“I brought makeup that won’t stain, so you can eat each other’s faces all night as far as I’m concerned after I’m done with you.”

Looking up at Rosalie with a coy smile, Y/N raises her eyebrows. “You’re a softie underneath the whole mean girl act, aren’t you?”

“If you tell anyone, I might have to kill you.”

Again with death jokes. Clearing her throat, Y/N forces a smile. “Wouldn’t want that!”

Rosalie works quickly, creating her masterpiece within a few minutes during which Y/N thinks about the amount of time she’d save if she had superhuman speed the vampires possess.

“Like it?”

Realizing she kept her original look with minor changes, Y/N smiles. “Love it.”

Once they return, Y/N takes Paul’s hand in hers.

“I don’t want to walk alone,” she whispers. 

“You won’t,” he promises quietly. “Everyone, take your places, make the final preparations.”

“Okay, but we kinda need you in position too,” Seth speaks up.

“I’m exactly where I need to be.”

The room empties quickly, leaving the two alone with their thoughts.

“No second thoughts?” Y/N cups his cheek as Paul’s lips spread in a smile.

“No thoughts in general,” he winks. “Not when you’re in front of me.”

“So, we’re doing this?”

“You bet your ass we are. I’ve been plotting this for almost two decades, dove.”

“Dove,” she pauses. “You haven’t called me that in years.”

“Wanna know why I called you dove back then?”

“Hmm?”

“Because you were skittish like a dove, and I was constantly terrified you’d fly out of my life again and I may never see you again. It was a way for me to remember how fleeting every moment with you might be, how I have to refrain from falling in love.”

“Damn, I didn’t realize I traumatized you that bad.”

Leaning in, his nose brushes hers. “As much as a wild dove can be skittish and fly away, once you earn their trust, a dove is calm, loving, and brings peace to the one they bind themselves to. Most of them mate for life. That’s why tonight, I can call you dove without feeling like my heart will explode in my chest.”

“Don’t go telling me all your vows in here,” she jokes.

“I’m not. There’s nothing I can say that would ever be able to describe the depth of my love for you. There are no words in any language that would do it justice.”

Letting out a soft exhale, her lips pressed against his for a moment, pulling back immediately to check if she smudged his face again. 

“Rosalie did well,” she smirks before giving him another kiss.

Hearing the music playing, they pull away, sharing one last look before heading outside.

Under the blanket of the night sky, the backyard looks like a fairytale illuminated by twinkling fairy lights that weave through the branches of towering trees. The air is filled with the fragrance of fresh flowers, their vibrant colors popping against the velvety darkness.

“We couldn’t find enough flowers of the same kind, so they bought all the flowers they could find and combined them,” Paul explains and she nods, admiring the beautiful scenery they managed to create so quickly. 

At the center of it all stands a magnificent floral arch, a labor of love crafted by both the Cullens and the pack. Blossoms of every hue cascade down the arch in a mesmerizing display, proving that once mortal enemies can become friends.

As the guests gather around, their breaths held in anticipation, Sam Uley steps forward, radiating a quiet authority befitting the officiator of this sacred union. His voice carries through the still night air, imbued with a solemn reverence that commands attention.

"Friends, family, and loved ones," Sam begins, his words echoing softly in the hushed atmosphere. "We gather here tonight to witness the joining of two souls, bound by love and fate."

Paul and Y/N stand before the arch, their eyes locked in a silent exchange that speaks volumes. Though the memory of their previous attempt at marriage lingers, a shadow of tragedy, tonight is a chance for redemption, for a new beginning bathed in hope. Maybe the prophecy can be changed.

She glances at their friends who are now more like family, her gaze lingering on Alice for a moment who nods with a smile, encouraging her to go on.

With trembling hands and hearts overflowing with emotion, they take turns speaking their vows, each word a declaration of their unwavering commitment. If anyone ever doubted they would one day get to this point, Paul and Y/N are glad to prove them wrong. 

"Y/N," Paul's voice is steady, filled with quiet strength and love. "From the moment I first laid eyes on you in your quirky zebra stockings when you were like five, I knew you were meant to be in my life. You are my rock, my guiding light through the darkest of nights. With you, I have found a home, a sanctuary where I take my armor off. We had a rocky start, but I believe it was part of what makes us so great today. It allowed us to grow, to find healthy ways to overcome endless hardships. So, I promise to cherish you, to protect you, to stand by your side through every trial and triumph. You are my everything, now and forever."

Tears glisten in Y/N's eyes as she returns his gaze, her voice trembling yet resolute. "Paul," she whispers, her words a soft caress against the night breeze. "You are my steadfast companion, my constant source of strength. With you, I have discovered a love so deep, so maddening I nearly had myself committed. Even when I couldn’t stand to be around you, you were my knight in shining armor. You have shown me the true meaning of devotion, of sacrifice, of unconditional love. I vow to stand by you, to support you, to love you with every fiber of my being, for as long as I live." She pauses, her smile faltering ever so slightly, “And beyond.”

As they exchange rings, a tangible symbol of their eternal bond, a sense of serenity washes over them. Despite the uncertainties that lie ahead, at this moment, surrounded by the love of their friends and family, they find solace in each other's arms.

With a final exchange of vows and a tender kiss, they seal their union. The night was worth remembering, and thanks to Daisy there would be no shortage of photographs to ensure as much. The diner that followed, the first dance to “Wildest Dreams” by Taylor Swift, and Y/N’s sneaky way of rubbing cake frosting on Paul’s nose had everyone laughing until late...late into the dark night. Once Cullens graciously offered to help clean everything up, so the couple could rest the next day, everyone had left. Despite the exhaustion, Paul and Y/N made love lazily all night, unable to keep their hands to each other, taking their time, exchanging breathy ‘I love you’s’. 

Tracing circles on Paul’s chest, half asleep, Y/N speaks quietly.

“You know wolves mate for life, too?”

Paul opens an eye, “I’m not surprised. We shift into wolves, hence imprinting.”

“I never really thought about how beautiful it is, though. Having someone you can trust blindly, never to fear betrayal of the worst kind. At first, it freaked me out…I felt like you were forced to love me.”

“And then you realized I was insane about you since before I had armpit hair?” Paul chuckles.

“Pretty much,” she presses a tender kiss to his collarbone. “I know we both feel like us not getting together before was probably some sort of a divine intervention that helped us be where we are now, but I feel sad about all that time we lost.”

“If I had just been less of a coward back then and looked you in the eye instead of always staring at you from a distance, you’d have never left.”

“And I’d never spend a decade wasting my time, drowning in my insecurities. I could have been here for you when your dad died, the way you helped me with the death of both my parents…I’m really sorry I wasn’t with you then.”

“We were kids,” Paul tucks her hair behind her ear. “When I imprinted now, even with all the supposed animosity, we were adults who could work through our shit. If I imprinted then and saw what I saw…I don’t think either one of us would ever be capable of comprehending it. If I was so stupid about it as an adult, imagine how stupid I’d have been then.” Kissing the top of her nose, he turns on his side. “Besides, I was explosive back then. I could have seriously hurt you.”

“I don’t think you would have.”

“It’s a chance I’ll never take. Not with you.”

Closing her eyes, she turns on her side as well, facing Paul fully.

“I’ve thought about it,” she whispers.

“Hmm?”

“I don’t want to leave you,” she continues. “Ever.”

“Y/N?” Paul frowns, his heart beating faster.

She opens her eyes, letting out a heavy sigh. “If there’s a chance we can evade the prophecy, the vision, whatever you call it…I say let’s try.”

Sitting up, Paul covers his mouth. Looking back at her, his eyes wide in shock, Paul pauses. “You mean -”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

Nodding, she sits up too. Pulling her knees closer to her chest, she rests her chin on the left one. “I’ve made my decision.”

--------------------

A/N: Sorry for the long wait. We are nearing the end of the series. As you've noticed, I don't tag anyone anymore since Tumblr limited text posts to a certain number of words that I usually excede and have to rewrite parts of the fic so it fits their limitations. Hope it finds you without a tag one day :) Anyway, let me know your thoughts and feelings and especially theories for the final chapters.

PART 34

[thunder-threnodies]

🌹 I was curious if you could write for Brett, even if he’s very clearly still committed to his missing Half Devil and not interested in anything romantic? Perhaps Brett simply has questions for a case he’s working on, and somehow the Captain gets him to enjoy the evening and it all stays very friendly :D

If so, Detective Brett Heroux is polite, even if he can be blunt when he’s annoyed or overfamiliar with someone. He doesn’t drink any spirits. He enjoys dancing- a lot, even if he’s been told he talks too much during it. He is perfectly content to ramble about the history of the dance *while* you are dancing it! It takes him a while to settle into fun, but when he does- he can easily join the festivities and inadvertently charm most he meets. 

You bumped into the Captain almost by chance. Someone told you to "go and pet a Blemmigan" after... Too much time spent In your office studying the last case's notes.

How many days? Yes.

Anyway, you were mumbling and slightly grumbling when your hand, deeply tucked in the pocket of your coat, finds a small box of matches. It smells like zee water and glass polish and....

Something else. You can see that the borders have been nervously picked on and that several matches are missing and yet none have been lit using the box.

Peculiar.

You also notice that there's some stains on it, droplets perhaps, as if someone had been drinking while this delightfully decorated little box was sitting very close to the person drinking.

You stroke a finger on a stain and sniff it: whiskey but not a regular one. This was brewed with honey and smoked in Dark-dew Cherries barrels. There's only one place, coincidentally located down Ladybone's Road where you're currently strolling, that serves this whiskey, as it's quite pricey.

On the upside of the box, there's a logo and a handwritten inscription:

"We shared a cigarette and a glass of Meadnight at Blue Skye's Palace"

in an elegant, yet slightly nervous, calligraphy. Now in a more curious mood, rather than mopey, you slowly walk towards the indicated address.

As soon as you arrive at the Blue Skye's Palace, you realize that this is a high profile place. Society members and occasionally some Masters aligned individual go in and out regularly untill you notice someone that gives off the wrong vibe: a dark-auburn haired zailor, with a Captain, or Admiral perhaps, coat over a faded blood-red jacket.

You follow them inside and spot them sitting quietly at the bar, while a melancholic and sweet song is playing as background, drinking the very same whiskey you've found on the match box.

And look at the little things spread regularly all across the bar! Many, many of the very same freebies you've found in your pocket.

You sit down right next to the Zailor and order two more: one for you (although probably you're only taking a small sip. You want to keep your head level untill you know more about this fella) and one for them.

They slowly turn their head and shoot you a side glance that make your blood run cold: for a fleeting second you felt like some sort of Zee monster was sitting by your side and not just a Very Tired Captain, with blue rings around their eyes and heavy bags right under. Peligin eyes but they do not look like a Monster Hunter at all.

And Cosmogone Spectacles? A Silverer, then. But why Zail and meddle with Parabola at the same time? So many questions, so little time...

They smile and nod at you and suddenly they look like a completely different person. Warm and welcoming.

"Oh the privilege of having caught the attention of the Dandy Detective Brett Heroux himself, in the flesh! I'm so pleased to finally meet you!" they say as they gulp down the last of their glass and begin the one you paid for.

For a moment you're stunned. But you recover rather quickly. You clear your throat and just tip the glass to your lips letting nothing but a few drops go down your throat. Head level, Brett, keep your head space clear and steady.

"I see you know me...?"

"Captain or Silverer will suffice, Detective. Or if you prefer a less formal approach... Francis Morgan, here on, well--" they smile with a hint of irony in their voice "Terra Firma as they like to call it. Even though, for me, it's not so firma anymore. If you catch my wave." another little, slow sip. "Pun intended, Detective. I am a big fan of yours, by the way. Absolutely brilliant on solving most of the open cases around London! Have you ever thought about writing a book about your adventures?" they empty their glass. Yours is still rather full.

"A.. a book? No. I- I mean all of my attention has been on a very important case and a book would take too much time from me. But please tell me, is this yours? And why did it make home in my pocket, out of all?" You gently put the match box near their hand, the one holding the glass. You notice many fading scars on all the hand and that hand is more suited for holding a quill or a pen rather than a sword or pistol.

They sigh a little and twirl the whiskey in their glass.

"I truly hoped my little sleight of hand would catch your attention because you see, I need your help for a missing treasure."

They drop a few echoes on the bar and gestures for you to go outside, where they join you shortly after.

"Well, Detective Heroux... Brett, if I may call you by first name... Card's on the table. I've been sent a letter. They took a pocket watch from me, one of my most treasured possessions" they pause for a moment "pun not intended, this time."

They give you a piece of paper: letters cut out from various different sources form a rather weird message. The grammar and spelling are all messed up.

There are stains of sweets, soot and reddish dust on it. It doesn't look actually dangerous.

As the two of you walk around, not yet with a destination in mind, you ask them a few questions.

Yes they're a Silverer. It's a personal choice they made long, long ago for the sake of a loved one. No they won't tell you who, although you might have an idea who this beloved is. Yes, they have Peligin eyes but it's more because of an incident happened in their youth at the Gant Pole...

After a while, when you both exchange generally known facts about yourselves, you notice three shadowy figures spying on you from a corner.

"There, Captain!" you discretely point at them. "Don't look directly! Agh, they've seen us! Quick, keep up with me and run!" you say as you spring to action, beginning a chase across Ladybone's, Spite, the Docks.

The three figures are rather quick and agile and do their best to drop obstacles and hazards on your path. The two of you follow the hot trail for the whole afternoon, finding new, weird clues every now and then. A knotted sock but not a Knotted Sock so not Urchins.

A wooden charm. A broken compass. A patch of worn out fur. What the hell is going on here?

The three enter Ms. Plenty's Carnival and disappear amongst the crowd: it seemes that there's some sort of improvised dancing festival or reunion.

You come to a sudden halt and look around. Not a single clue or trace to be found.

You turn and see Morgan smiling at you.

"Well, Brett, we seem to have come to a momentary dead end. What do you say, shall we dance? Perhaps drop some questions, like bait you know, while we change partners. What do you know about this kind of dance and gatherings?"

As you happily instruct Francis Morgan on the matter, a new round of dances begins and quickly the two of you are caught in the vortex of joyous music and swinging melodies.

You're more than happy to guide the Captain through the dance, calling for each step and explaining some fun facts when the sequences they have already memorized come again.

The atmosphere is colorful and happy, your dancing partners more than capable of keeping up with you and you can always see the Captain in the corner of your eye. They've got your back.

When you're partnered with them once again, you lean in slightly closer.

"I've spotted a rather... cranky gentlman walk towards some attractions. I suspect our three rascals ar headed that way. Not Urchins but surely children. They stole a bowler hat somwhere and a trench coat. When the music stops, follow me."

And the Captains nods and does exactly as instructed.

You resume your chase of the Weirdly Tall Man (Definetly Not Three Children in a Trenchcoat) across all the Carnival untill you force them to take cover in the House of Mirrors.

But where are the culprits? THERE! No... no no no just a reflection of... A Master? Surely your eyes must have tricked you... That way! A small shadow runnning and the sound of small feet on the floor!

That Master-like figure again... You're pretty sure it's a Curator but which one...?

As you arrive at the center of the maze, three children, clearly siblings, each dressed up as a Pirate-wannabe, look at you slightly amazed and smiling. What the hell?

In the mirror behind them, the Winged Shadow reappears and two arms, strong and used to hold and constrain, come out of it, grabbing the trio.

No, not grabbing, hugging.

The Captain themselves step out of the mirror and lifts up the trio in their arms.

"YOU LITTLE...! I knew it was you! How the hell did you sneak in my quarters, huh?"

"We missed you! You said you'll come visit but it has been almost two months! Dad and Mom came but you didn't so we did what Pirates do: stole a treasure!" the oldest produces a shining pocket wathc with an inscription on its casing that you cannot clearly read from there and in the dim light.

The Captain laughs and makes a gesture towards the mirror: a big, clawed hand puts a wooden box in their hands, big enough to contain some decently sized objects. A small dagger for the big brother, who appears to be soon a young man rather than a child or boy, a map and a sextants for the middle sister and a fluffy, cute little Rubbery Feline plush for the youngest.

You follow them for a while, as the Captain chit chats with the trio. They politely ask you to tell the three siblings some of your most talked cases of missing jewelry or precious wares and you oblige with a faint smile: it takes a lot to make these stories children-friendly. But they're rather enthusiastic about them and your fame so you don't actually mind.

They insist that you and the captain challenge each other to a shooting contest.

They're good, it's pretty clear they're an excellent pirate, it's pretty clear to you that they're no mere Zailor or regular Captain by now, but they're swaying slightly as if being at Zee and miss a few shots, leading to your victory.

They take the three siblings to a House for Young Children and is welcomed by a joyous chorus of 'hello!' and 'WELCOME BACK CAPTAIN" as they leave the trio in the care of a handmaid and waves happily to the small crowd as they rejoin you, just outside the gates.

"Well, Detective Brett Heroux. Your fame and renown are well earned! I thank you so much for this evening. It's hard to be a Pirate and a good example for those little rascals. And to think they absolutely meant to go to Zee, some time ago! They're almost ready for the real deal, don't you think?"

They shake your hand firmly and bows down in a very elegant way and salutes you, strolling along the Docks and humming a happy melody, leaving you all alone and quite exhausted. Have you been a good example? You sure hope so. A detective and a pirate... What a fun and quirky duo they must have had looked like, that evening, running around London.

The day after you find a copy of "The Hound of the Baskervilles" on your table, signed by Francis Dargor Morgan.

"To the True Greatest Detective and hopefully, a newfound Friend. Yours truly, F.D.M."

As you have breakfast, the idea of a book about some of your cases comes back and playfully torments you for a while, leaving your heart lighter and your spirit happier. At least, for a while.

[luke-kindaunluckydoe]

A fruit bowl for a vampire boyfriend (Nb Libra x M Cancer)

i'be publishing my stories in here as well. if you want to check out more like this, go to my wattpad @/lorsumwl i also have a patreon!

https://www.patreon.com/Zodiacstories

Pretty, Aquarius thought, watching his tall figure step through their studio's door, so pretty.

"Please help yourself to anything you'd like", they signaled to a small refrigerator next to the kitchen counter, which stood at the corner of the big room. "There's also some fruits", they added, pointing to the fruit bowl on top of a round table, that although its decent size, was still small in comparison to the space surrounding it. At the mention of the fruit bowl, they noticed the smallest glint of excitement in their new work partner's eyes.

"Thank you", he answered, shy gaze directed to the ground. His dark skin glew beautiful under the reflection of the purple evening's light, and Aquarius was grateful they chose an apartment with a big windowed wall as their study.

"So", they continued, not wanting their gaze to linger too long as to make him uncomfortable, "I'll send you the new project's draft in a second, and then maybe we can talk about it. Make yourself at home in your desk meanwhile". They had assigned a space across their own desk for the other.

"Yes… I'll wait for it. Thank you a lot", his voice was deep, yet quiet. His eyes were almond shaped, and a curious tone of soft gray, hidden constantly by his shy gaze.

Aquarius smiled up at him, "Thank you, Cancer . I've said it already, but you're an amazing artist. We'll make this new story a hit". They were speaking the truth– it was almost weird how good of an artist Cancer was, yet how underrated they were. They had to search through hell to find him.

Cancer smiled, always with that passive mannerism, and headed to his new workplace across the room. Months passed by in a pleasant haste.

Heavenly bodies. Bright blue used as much as deep red, human blood and the halo of saints, every small detail in the angel's wings, the subtle expressions needed for demons… It was a heavy story illustration Aquarius had taken on, yet it fascinated them so much they had to finish it, even if it meant partnering up with another.

Cancer was an amazing work partner. Not only was he a polite, kind, and smart person, his art style was clean and graceful, matching their own in a contrast that went so perfectly with the story. As a friend, he was the most considerate person he had the luck to meet– in that big city, about everyone was an ssshole, which made Aquarius believe he was a foreign.

There was only one odd thing going on, and it was the constant lack of fruits. Aquarius didn't tend to eat many fruits, so they kept them in the bowl more as a decoration, but recently, no matter how many times they restocked, they seemed to just disappear. So, curious of the fact that nobody could've broken inside the apartment without them knowing, they revised the inside camera footage.

They giggled as they did so. Cute, they thought at the sight of Cancer stuffing their mouth full of strawberries, so cute.

From that moment on, the fruit bowl was always full, varied, and well arranged. Without a fail, it'd be gone in the next two to three business days. Aquarius pretended not to notice the particular blueberry redness in Cancer 's lips, or the small, almost unnoticeable stains whenever he wore white tops.

"Should we go out?", they asked one night after a work-loaded day, stretching their arms.

"Do you want to?", his head parked up from his slouching position in his desk, soft, curly hair dancing along gravity.

"Yeah", Aquarius smiled, a bit smitten, "Dinner's on me".

Cancer blushed, and clumsily sat up, nearly tripping with air, "O-oCancer , I'll out on my coat".

They liked each other, didn't they?, Aquarius wondered. If the not-so-sneaky glances he sent their way, or the excited glint in his eyes he'd get when they praised him, or the unnecessary closeness when discussing pieces, were signs, then yes, yes they liked each other.

Quite the unexpected outcome, but welcomed, Aquarius smiled pleasantly while locking the apartment door shut.

It was dark outside. Waiting for a taxi, Aquarius noticed the tension build in Cancer 's shoulders. Another thing about him– for some reason, he hated the dark.

In a bold act of confidence, they reached to grab a hold of his hand. He yelped at the unexpected touch, looking down at his hand, blushing. "Is this oCancer ?", Aquarius asked sweetly, but careful not to make him feel forced. Cancer nodded quickly, "Yes… ". Holding hands, they waited to be picked up, and Cancer had stopped shaking.

The restaurant was nice. The menu was extensive, but when the waiter came, Cancer ordered only a fruit salad. Aquarius didn't want to intrude, but they were a bit worried for his health. After the waiter went away, they said," The fruit salad here is quite delicious, so good choice. But will you be alright with just that?", they had to keep their future husband well fed, after all. "Oh, yeah", he answered, shily smiling at them from across the table "It looks very good, thank you".

They idly chatted until dinner came. Afterwards, the conversation got more personal, and family was brought up. "I have my father back in Colombia", Aquarius said, "said he wanted to stay there. I visit him often. Maybe I'll introduce you to him next time".

At that, Cancer blushed, almost dropping his glass. "Sounds good!", he stuttered. However, his demeanor got gloomy as he spoke about himself, "I don't keep in touch with any family member", he hesitantly added, "I'd rather not, truthfully".

"Would you like some champagne?", Aquarius tried to change the mood they'd caused, "It looks like they're serving it over that table". At Cancer 's nod, they traversed through the entire room to find it.

Somebody bumped into them, suddenly, and Aquarius was no fool– they'd just gotten pick-pocketed. Without saying a word, they ran after the thief, all the way into the kitchen, and then into the back door's dark and desolate alleyway. There, the figure of the thief stood awaiting them.

Aquarius yelled, "Give me my wallet back, won't you? I've got a cute date with me".

The figure, however, just laughed, and their voice sent a shiver down Aquarius 's spine. They stepped into the light, to reveal red eyes and big white fangs shimmering against the moonlight, "So you're that hideous thing's mate? That'll teach him a lesson".

Aquarius only saw a blur of black swinging towards them, before being stopped by another, sending them both tumbling to the ground. It was Cancer , hair dilivished, fangs showing, and his eyes had changed to a bright yellow color.

"You fucker", he growled, choking the other to the ground so hard his claws –and how hot those looked– dug into the others neck, making them bleed. "You dare", he put more strength into the choke, veins showing more prominently in his hand –and how hot those looked too, god–.

"You should've died along with your mother", the figure below him spat out, voice strained, "Then us blood vampires, your father's family, could live without the burden of a lesser species being related to us".

With the other hand, Cancer punched them directly in the face, breaking their nose, "You couldn't even touch my hair if you wanted to. So much for being inferior".

"Oh, you'll see", they turned to look at Aquarius , "We'll kill your mate in the worst possible way, make them hate you, and then we'll move onto you".

Hearing that, Cancer slowly dragged his claws around the vampire's entire face, cutting deeply into the tissue, making them writhe in pain. "Remember who killed you even in death, and hate whoever sent you to me". Saying that, with a small movement, he bit into the vampire's neck, killing them instantly.

Then he got up, back facing Aquarius . When he turned, he was back into his human form, and more than ferocious as he has been, he looked like he was about to cry.

Aquarius made the first move, and slowly walked closer.

"You're a vampire?", they asked in awe, taking a hold of Cancer 's head between their hands. He was cautiously letting himself be handled, as if expecting some sort of physical response from Aquarius .

"Yes", he weakly answered.

They, however, only titled their head, "You can't be. You're always eating fruit, and you seem to enjoy it".

At this, Cancer was startled, "Were you…?"

Aquarius laughed out loud, "Yeah, I've been filling the fruit bowl religiously. I'm glad you enjoyed it".

Cancer 's face started getting redder, and he shut his eyes so as to not have to look them in the eye, "I'm a fruit vampire", he admitted in a pained tone.

"Oh, that makes more sense", they nodded innocently, like they'd just been told what his favorite color was. That couldn't be it, Cancer thought, they must despise him.

There was a silence in that dark alleyway, until it was broken by Aquarius 's confident voice, "Cancer , I don't want to let you go. Won't you stay with me? As a partner, as a friend," they had their right hand brush Cancer 's curls away, as to be able to see his now open wide eyes better, "as more, if you'd let me?"

He was rendered speechless once again, as Aquarius always made him, "Don't you fear me?" I killed someone in front of you, went unsaid.

"Are you kidding?", they answered, quickly adding, "You're the most beautiful creature I've ever seen. In this lifetime, if my art is to create divinity, it will always be you".

"If you stay with me, you'll always be in danger", he said, sad grey eyes looking into brown confident ones. "I-I mean, I'll never let anything happen to you, but…"

"I've waited for love patiently", they interrupted, "throughout my whole life, I waited for it, drawing it and thinking it. I've waited for love long enough to almost leave without it", suddenly, they got their face closer to his, and placed a gentle kiss in his lips, "but now that you've come, I could never allow love to leave, my dear. A little danger won't move my resolve".

No other words were said after that– passionately, Cancer picked their smaller frame up, holding them steady and strong as they kissed gently, both smiling by the end of it.

"So, will you be my boyfriend? I promise to bring you all the most delicious fruits", they grabbed his hand.

"As long as you stay with me", he smiled, and squeezed their hand, "I can live with just that".

And so ends the story, with a love-sick fruit vampire eating from an always full fruit bowl, laying besides their lover, who paints his eyes with the tint of blueberries. They never quite stayed in the same place for more than a few months after that. But, at all times, they stayed beside each other, and love settled there as their strong home.

[theallblue]

“I like this, being so close to you.”

𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑���𝐄𝐑𝐒 ♡ |still accepting|

The events of Thriller Bark was still fresh on Sanji’s mind especially after the appearance of the man who could have easily taken their lives. It seemed like it was a miracle at first until he had gone searching for their missing swordsman. Zoro was nowhere to be seen after he had woken up, ribs throbbing because of the hilt that decided to slam itself against his side. The last thing that he expected to come across was this, he didn’t expect to see all that blood staining the ground. Blood that stained Zoro’s skin with the uttered words of “nothing happened.” 

He knew that something had though. A truth which he eventually learned about before making sure that Luffy wouldn’t hear anything about it knowing how their captain would react. A promise that Sanji was willing to keep for the sake of Zoro and everyone else who called this ship their home. It was better that he was the only one who knew even if it caused a feeling of tension among the ship, he had plenty of mixed feelings about the whole thing. 

Most of his feelings dealing with the ones that those feelings of his were pointed toward, he didn’t know how to bring them up. There was a chance it could easily become a yelling match which was the last thing that Sanji wanted to happen while onboard the Sunny. Too many curious ears would be pointed their way if he decided to say something right now, it would be best to wait until it was only them. Until those curious ears wouldn’t be able to pick up on the words that would be shared between them whether it be because they were yelling or not. 

It was something that the cook couldn’t bring himself to say that easily, he didn’t know how to bring up those feelings. He didn’t know how to tell Zoro how he actually felt about it. 

It seemed that he didn’t have to say anything when it ended up just being them standing on the deck during the middle of the night. A night which Sanji found it difficult to rest, they all were still recovering from what happened on Thriller Bark. They all needed to rest, they all needed to heal their wounds which were getting better because of the skills that Chopper had as their doctor. A doctor who they all trusted. 

Tiling his head down, his gaze glanced down before a light smile graced his lips. A smile that he was unable to hide 

“I do too, Zoro. I like it when you are close.”

[thearchvillain]

favourite crime. | Kaz

kaz brekker x reader

prompt: Favorite Crime (by Olivia Rodrigo) as asked for by the lovelies of anons in my inbox <3

summary: Reader, sister of the leaders of an opposing gang, has grown close to Kaz over the years, ever since they met during an attempted heist of the same painting. But with rising tensions in the Barrel, and with Kaz realising just how much of a liability his preoccupation with her has become, there is a choice he's been forced to make (or so he thinks). After all, it would be easier to have her hate him, to have her gone from this forsaken city before he drags her down along with him, would it not?

preview: “I know.” His voice is tired and rough and hollow, and some silly part of her still hates to hear it this way. Even after everything they’ve done to each other, she still can’t quite come to terms with being the reason behind his pain.  It’s such a cruel betrayal, this disobedience of her heart.  “Oh, Kaz.”, there is a mournful gentleness to her voice that makes him flinch more than any cruel words have managed to. Something inside her breaks at that, something vast and important.

tropes: one word - ANGST. but also, Kaz betraying the reader and the two of them meeting on a rooftop one last time. Kaz does touch her (gloves and all), but it's with the assumption they've known each other and been close for years now.

word count: (only) 2k words! (are you proud of me? I've managed to restrain myself!)

A/N: listen, i've gone through like 37539 different scenarios of what I would write while keeping in mind the words/theme of the song. I've taken some creative licenses in the end, but I hope it still works! there isn't as much world-building in this as in my other works (bc it'd be like 10000 words long and no one wants to read that hahah) HOWEVER, I do have like a zillion headcanons in my mind, so if anyone's curious about it don't hesitate to ask or request something from this particular universe! Also ngl I've left this open-ended sooo >.> no happy endings promised, just chaos and pain. tnx for coming to my ted talk!

The night air is thin and cold, up on the rooftops overlooking the Fifth Harbour, laced with salt and the wild scent of things burning in the distance. There is an orange tint to the city, as if the fires are an open wound in the grey flesh of Ketterdam, and sirens wail in the distance, like a mother crying over her injured son. It wasn’t supposed to be this. Them, standing opposite each other on top of a warehouse, soot and blood staining their clothes, dark figures against a burning skyline. Or maybe it was, but she didn’t think she’d have to be dragged from the fight and brought to him, only to find matches in his hand and betrayal in his eyes. 

“And what will you call it, Kaz?”, bitterness has made her voice sharp like a knife’s edge, “When nobody waits for you at night? When there’s no one left that matters?”

He is still as a statue, the cold night wind whipping wildly at his coat, something feral and obscure stirring behind his eyes as if coming awake from some deep slumber. He is fracturing from inside, and it is tearing him apart piece by piece. He is not the man he thought he could be, and now he won’t be the man the could have been. 

“What will you call it?”, her voice rises, it lashes at him like a wild animal, “Freedom? Or loneliness.”

And he bleeds. She can see it now, more clearly than ever. Even the darkness can’t obscure the faint tremble of his hand, the hard set of his lips from which no words are left to be said. That unnatural parlour as the blood drains from his features to the frantic beat of his heart and constricted, panicked lungs. It settles across his shoulders as if it were a corporeal thing, the weight of the wounds he’d inflicted upon her, the heavy truth of devotion broken. She wonders, wildly, if he can feel it as physically as she does - the pain that settles deep in one’s chest, the numbness at the tips of their fingers, the wrathful burn of tears in the back of their throats. Do they burn together? Was it always meant to be this way? 

She is certain of one thing, however - somewhere inside, perhaps inside that beating heart, he bleeds. The boy who had assumed he could carve himself into marble until there was nothing but the cold hardness of stone left of him. Maybe there wouldn’t be, after this. 

She takes a step toward him, unwavering in her rage, and she can see in the way the tendons in his neck are pulled taut and his chest unmoving that it’s all he can do not to look away. She wonders if it is shame he sees, when he looks at her, or the red-hot burn of that same pain she feels when she looks at him. She prays then, to any god that might listen to a broken girl’s pleas, that it hurts just as much. 

“You realise now, don’t you?”, her voice is low when she speaks, the twist of her lips less a smile than a scar, “You might make me hate you. And you might make me leave. But you’ve forgotten to poison your own heart, Kaz.”

His eyes slip from her eyes to that dangerous curve of her mouth. He must cut himself on the sharp cruelty of it, because he looks away almost instantly. As if he doesn’t want to remember her like this, as if the pain in her face might mar the memories of her laying on his bed, watching him work. Her rage burns more fervently at this, selfishness uncurling its tail in the deeps of her soul - why should he keep these memories when she feels like all she’s got left is this. Them on the rooftop, sirens blaring in the distance, the bitter taste of betrayal on her tongue. It is a stain she can feel bleeding into every crevice of her mind, until she can barely remember what it felt like to have his hand touching the stray strands of her hair, to feel the heaviness of his gaze on her. Every little thing she would think of when she thought of him, gone. She wishes she could cry, but it feels like all her tears have dried up.

“Look at me you coward!”, her voice wobbles at the words, and she hates herself for it, “I suppose I should thank you. It’ll be easier for me to hate you than for you to remember what you’ve done to us. Hatred is easy, you should know that better than anyone, it is regret that festers and eats you raw.” 

Kaz turns his gaze back to her, slowly, as if it’s a physical effort to just look at her. There’s an empty quality to the deep darkness of his eyes, as if the universe is a little shallower, a bit too crowded with some unnamed feeling. There’s a part of him missing, it’s like something had burnt away the things that had made him her Kaz, not this eerie mimicry. 

“I know.” His voice is tired and rough and hollow, and some silly part of her still hates to hear it this way. Even after everything they’ve done to each other, she still can’t quite come to terms with being the reason behind his pain. 

It’s such a cruel betrayal, this disobedience of her heart. 

“Oh, Kaz.”, there is a mournful gentleness to her voice that makes him flinch more than any cruel words have managed to. Something inside her breaks at that, something vast and important. But something inside him breaks too. She supposes it’s fitting, no part of either of them will remain untouched after tonight. It never could have been anything else but this - one heart broke, four hands bloody. She’d always been his most willing accomplice. 

“Y/N.” She doesn’t think she’d ever heard her name marred by so much pain. His hand stops just short of her cheek, the air separating them set alight by the perilousness, but she doesn’t think it’s his trauma that’s stopping him this time. There is a longing in his eyes that speaks of a different kind of terror. Like he’s afraid she might turn away, and he’s too broken and beaten to take another hit. “What have I done?”

Her eyes follow the sharp slopes and hard planes of his face, something desperate and hungry within her grasping for that desperate and ravenous thing within him, for this last memory. He’s still beautiful. Her stupid, broken heart still manages to shudder at the sight of him, even if it’s the last thing it might do.

The leather of his glove is warm when she places her hand around his. There is a brief, commonplace flash of surprise inside her - she’s unsure why she thought it’d be cool to the touch. Perhaps because it’d fit better into this picture of pain and heartbreak they’ve painted for themselves. Instead, the warmth of him seeps into her cheek as she presses his hand down against it.

He recoils - a bone-deep shudder that passes through his body as he closes his eyes, eyelashes fluttering against the paleness of his cheek. There’s something raw and fundamental about it - Kaz, stripped bare. But he doesn’t move, and she presses herself into his palm with all the desperation of a ravenous, touch-starved creature. This too, is a cruel betrayal of her heart. 

She closes her eyes, “You’ve cut out your heart. Wasn’t that the plan all along?”

His hand falters against her cheek as if her words were a blade and she’d driven it in when he’d least expected it. Her hand curls against his, and even through the leather, she can feel the fine bones of his fingers, the way they shift as he runs his hand down the slope of her cheek, to the small dip just below her jaw. His touch is light against her skin, something terrified and feral about the way his fingers quiver as he drags them down the line of her neck. 

His voice is tight and distant when he speaks, too many demons at once plaguing his mind, “I’ve always wondered what it would feel like.”

It’s a cruel thing, to do this now. But she knows he can feel it too, the finality of things. All the things that they broke, all the trouble that they made. It’s a dying creature, whatever it is that they had. It was arrogant of them to assume it ever could be anything more than a fragile, evanescent thing. There is a kind of desperation in the way they grasp at each other, an awareness of the last few grains of sand seeping away from them.

She can hear him let out a ragged breath as his finger brushes against her collarbone, and something inside her heart withers at this. She janks herself away, stumbling backwards from him like his touch is branding iron, “No. No, that’s gone.”

Wild desperation splits his features for a moment, an instinctual thing, like that deep, essential thing within him can’t quite come to terms with what the so-called rational part of him has done. His hand drops to his side, limp and exhausted, and the wind picks up, as if to blow away whatever had been between them just seconds ago. The space yawns deep and terrifying, but Y/N doesn’t move to close the distance. 

“Look what we became.”, she bites out, voice laced with bitterness, “Look what you made us into. Remember that.” 

He stands still for a moment, his moonlit skin more ivory than flesh and bone, and it’s as if he’s taking a moment to breathe her in for one last time before he speaks. It chips at something inside her, his gaze, because it speaks of things that he’d wanted to do instead of this. Things he should’ve done. “How could I forget? You were not made to be forgotten.”

“Good.”, if her words are too silent to be heard, he must read them from her lips, because he lowers his eyes as if he can’t quite bear to watch her go. 

She waits for a moment, for no good reason at all. Maybe a sign from the universe that there are more things to come for them, that this is not all there is. Maybe something other than mournful resignation in the set of his shoulders. But maybe ashes are all that’s left, all there ever will be. 

She turns on her heel and heads for the edge of the roof. For a moment, the dejected wailing of the wind is all there is, before she hears him speak, “Y/N?”

The hungry thing within her flares up, and she hates herself for it, for stopping to turn and look at him one last time.

“I’m sorry.”

She smiles then, and it is a sad sort of creature, this smile - broken and wounded and crestfallen - but she does it anyway. “You know what the funniest thing is? I’d do it all again.”

This time, he doesn’t hesitate, “So would I.” 

“We’re fucked up, the two of us, aren’t we.”, it’s less a question than a statement. She lingers by the edge, staring out to the harbour for a few drawn-out moments, her voice distant, “Do you remember what I told you once?”

She doesn’t need to elaborate, his wind-whipped voice interrupts her before she can continue, “You must kill all your darlings.”

She chuckles, and it’s empty-sounding, “Didn’t think you’d take it so seriously. I suppose I grew arrogant enough to think I’d be above that rule. Oh, and Kaz?”

He is still standing in that same spot, hands in the pockets of his coat, something rigid and cold about the set of his shoulders. It’s how he usually looks when he’s been wounded on a mission and is trying to hide it from her. He’s waiting for her words, she realises, braced for the incoming damage. 

“I was right. You should kill your darlings.”, there is a promise in her eyes when she looks at him, “Or else they might come to haunt you eventually.”

[oddaodd]

· July’s Official Birthday Flower ·

Summary: When the reader suffers yet another miscarriage, Tommy is there for her. Time helps them heal, but there’s always a little reminder of what they’ve lost.

Warnings: Detailed descriptions of miscarriage, grief, blood , sadness and pain.

Author’s note: I Think this is one of the angstiest fics I’ve ever written and I do think that I should put a disclaimer out there that if any of the warnings that I wrote up there tigger you, please don't read ahead.

·

A sharp pain awoke Y/n in a particularly warm summer night. Having been too familiar, more than anyone would like to be, with the particular pain she was feeling, she wasted no time in sitting up and getting out of bed, barely granting her significantly stained sheets a glance before she rushed to the bathroom, where the pains became more and more severe. She must have been spotting for hours before the pain woke her up.

Tommy was still sleeping on his side of the bed and for a reason Y/n didn’t want to make a sound. She carefully closed the bathroom door and took a few more steps until another wave of pain flowed through her body. Placing her hand over her mouth to buff the whimpers her throat couldn’t stop from escaping into her mouth, the pain increased. She began to feel blood quickly dripping down her legs but she couldn’t bring herself to look down, instead looking up at the small chandelier hanging from the bathroom’s ceiling as she took big breaths and tears prickled at the corners of her eyes.

It couldn’t be happening again. But it was. Y/n confirmed it when she saw the amount of blood that had pooled under her, a minuscule silhouette in violent contrast with the pearly white tiles. She couldn’t handle it then and let out a pained sob at the sight. Her legs trembled and she let herself fall to the cold hard floor. She could hear the violent thud her contact with the floor caused ringing through the bathroom’s walls as she rested her head against the tub and began sobbing silently. Suddenly the pain that woke her up, the one that she had to buffer out mere seconds ago felt like nothing. She wanted it to hurt more so it matched what the sight of the blood caused her to feel.

She then heard an array of hurried footsteps that stopped for a second in front of the door. Three soft knocks ran through the bathroom followed by Tommy’s voice calling Y/n’s name. Y/n couldn’t answer. She didn’t want to be alone, but at the same time she didn’t want anyone else to see.

“I’m coming in, Y/n” Tommy’s voice ran again and Y/n realized she didn’t want to be alone when she didn’t protest against it, not even when he gave her a few seconds to do so before turning the knob and pushing the door open.

He was by Y/n’s side in a trice. Color drained from his cheeks when he saw the blood before he crouched next to her and began rubbing her back soothingly with one hand as the other one went to the bathtub faucet.

“It won’t be necessary, love” she remembered telling him when he suggested for his aunt to go and stay with her when he left to London on a business trip a week ago “I have a good feeling about this one and I think it’s a boy”. She remembered the feeling that erupted inside her when he came back and nothing bad had happened, foolishly thinking that if nothing had happened by then nothing could happen at all.

The recollection caused her sobs to become louder, composing the most harrowing melody with the sound of the hot water filling the bathtub.

“Let it all out, Love” Tommy suggested before engulfing Y/n in a hug, his hand still rubbing circles on her back.

Y/n sank into his embrace and clung to him as if she was clinging to dear life. Her tears soaking through tommy’s cotton shirt until he felt his skin damp broke his heart. But instead of crying he continued to hold Y/n, telling her how much he loved her until the bath was full. He then helped her up, out of her stained silk night gown and into the warm water. After pressing a kiss to her forehead, he grabbed a towel and carefully picked up the promise that laid on the floor as if it was made of glass before leaving the bathroom with it in hands.

By then Y/n felt she had no more tears. Her face and throat ached. But a few more tears did roll down her face when she began scrubbing the blood from her inner thighs.

After that everything became blurry, her head airy and nauseous. Brief flashes of Tommy joining her in the bath, then carrying her to another room. Frances taking with her the bloody sheets, a doctor shaking his head sorrowfully at a mournful looking Tommy, a young toddler with her hair and tommy’s eyes, laughing, Tommy crying at the end of the bed and then darkness.

She woke up the next day with a headache, Tommy was sitting at the end of the bed and immediately turned to look at her when she stirred. Again he was by her side in a trice, taking her hand in his, looking at her with bloodshot eyes into her puffy ones.

“I’m so sorry, love” Y/n croaked out, her voice raspy, traces of the unfortunate previous night evident in it.

Tommy quickly hushed her “ey, It’s not your fault”

Y/n’s eyes began watering again “But I was so sure”

“I know” he said, his own voice breaking as he got in bed next to her

“we can try again” he murmured into her ear as he pulled her closer to him.

“I don’t know if I can take it, Tom. A bit of me dies each time” she mumbled burying herself into his chest. “I don’t think I can have children”

“it’s alright, love” he whispered pressing a kiss to her forehead “I’ve got you”

“Can we buy delphiniums?” she remembered asking him just before she fell into a deep slumber and out of consciousness, she did so for two days. Tommy only woke her up sporadically when she needed to take the tablets the doctor had prescribed.

On the third day, she woke up with Tommy’s arms around her, she took a minute to observe his face, even as he slept he looked restless. She didn’t want to wake him, but she couldn’t bear to be in bed a minute longer. Her whole body felt sore as she carefully got out of his grasp and attempted to get up, but as soon as her feet hit the hardwood floors it seemed like she forgot how to walk. Her body screaming at her for even attempting. The sigh that escaped her lips at her effort, as small and quiet as it was, arouse Tommy.

“Don’t get up, love” he said in a worried raspy morning voice getting up and walking around the bed so he was in front of her “what do you need?”

“I can’t bear to be in this bed any longer, Tommy” she sniffed.

“Where do you want to go?” he said in a tender voice accepting her unwillingness to stay in bed.

“Can you take me to the garden?”

Color drained from Tommy’s face once again before he nodded softly and helped Y/n down the stairs after making a detour to the nursery to get a small ornate wooden box.

The morning air was crisp, uncharacteristic of a July morning. Y/n wouldn’t have preferred it any other way. It felt like a million of tiny cold hands soothing her warm taut skin. She stood for a moment just taking it in, the small box in her hands as Tommy went to get a shovel. The ghost of a smile painted her lips when she saw him walking back towards her, with the shovel in one hand and a delphinium plant on the other.

The pair then walked to a secluded part of their garden that most visitors didn’t get to see. After helping Y/n kneel down on the grass, Tommy began digging a hole next to the other two plants that lived in that part of their garden. A yellow rose and a lavender. Y/n’s fingers began tracing the carvings of the wooden box as she watched her husband dig. She could swear a few tears fell into the dirt before he turned to her telling her it was deep enough.

Together they set the box, in the bottom before putting the delphinium plant on top and covering it up with dirt. Y/n never minded the feeling of dirt on her hands, but she was tired of burying ghostly promises. They sat in front of it for a while until hunger called them to the kitchen where Tommy prepared some mint tea.

Months passed turning grieving weeks into days and then just moments. By then Tommy had familiarized himself with the things that transported Y/n to that dreadful night and avoided them as much as possible just like she had done with the ones that did the same to him.

Y/n for instance couldn't bare to wear white nightgowns to sleep anymore and Tommy couldn't stand the smell of mint tea.

One December afternoon as Y/n was visiting one of the orphanages the Shelby’s funded, to see if everything was running smoothly, she found a small toy horse on a small bed next to the window. She picked it up and as she observed it carefully she remembered when she walked into the nursery to find Tommy crying a few months’ prior, a small horse just like the one Y/n just had found, clutched tightly in his hands. She felt tears welling up in her eyes, it was the first time she saw him crying after that dreadful July night.

“Are you alright, Miss?”

Y/n turned around with a jump and saw a small girl dressed in a yellow dress. Her hair was just as curly as Y/n's and her eyes were as pulchritudinous as Tommy’s as she looked at Y/n with a curious gaze.

“Yeah” Y/n smiled wiping her tears “is this yours?” she then asked looking at the girl as she handed her the horse.

“Yes, Her name is Rose!”

·

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @peakyxtommy @nyotamalfoy @writeroutoftime @babylooneytoonz @lilymurphy03 @slytherinicequeen

[anystalker707]

Bloodstained lips

Pairing: Frank x [afab] Reader Word count: ~ 5 400 Genre: Smut Summary: Frank is a vampire who wants (y/n) to be his, and even gives up on killing them just so he can have them. Kind of content: Grinding / Teasing / Dirty talk / Blood / Riding / Groping

Requested by @frank-ieros-lip-ring

Nothing like the nobility’s balls. I had spent some time out of England just to be sent here again to demonstrate how my division of the Templar’s order is still on good terms with them, so they practically shoved me to attend Earl Way’s masked ball. To be honest, it’s not exactly bad—I was offered to stay here for the week, not even needing to book a room at one of the inns nearby since I was offered to stay in the mansion. Very thoughtful. Still, it’s difficult to exchange any word with the Earl during the party because everyone seems to recognize him despite the masks covering everyone’s faces.

“Hello,” someone greets me, a smile tugging on their lips. Their mask is black, with green details along the intricate patterns that cover the upper half of their face. The light slips through the eye holes enough to be reflected on their mostly green, hazel eyes, which observe me with interest for some unknown reason. “Would you like a drink?”

They have a deep green tailcoat in black tapestry, threads reflecting delicately the light cast by the chandeliers hanging high in the ballroom. The black gloves match the pants, boots and vest that poke from under their coat... and amusement laces their smile once I meet their eyes again.

Curious. I nod, without thinking a lot, and they leave for a moment before coming back with a couple of wine glasses. “Thank you...” I trail off as I grab the glass that’s held out my way.

“Frank. Frank Iero,” he says softly. “And you must be (y/n) (l/n).”

“Frank, right.” I hum, now matching face to name. “I don’t believe we ever saw each other properly after that brief encounter in the office.” He had longer hair, by then, and still hadn’t lost some weight—either way, he is still stunning. And interesting, if I remember well. We had shared some good conversations during free time.

“...Office?” He purses his lips. “Right, I think I remember it.” He chuckles and I do the same.

“Interesting how you could recognize me even in a masked ball, with a different attire.” I glance down at myself, the dress’ cut hanging low on my shoulders, but still enough to cover a proper part of my chest while my necklace falls over it. Sometimes the cold wind makes me shiver as it slips through the lace covering my arms, something quickly fixed by avoiding standing next to windows. The lace extends itself to my feet over a thicker layer of fabric and I’m quite proud of my choice for tonight.

“Gerard told me it was you. I’m a close friend of his.” He shrugs lightly, pausing to take a sip of his wine. Hearing the Earl’s name being spoken like this feels almost forbidden. Wrong. “And the mask thing isn’t about us between each other, but regarding the commoners knowing who each of us are. Some of the nobility value privacy.”

“It’s really been a long time since I’ve been to a ball.” I also take a sip of the wine—it’s different from any other I’ve drunk, thicker and with a sharper taste. Not bad, actually.

“Don’t like them?”

“I don’t like people.”

“Ironic, regarding the knights.” Frank raises his eyebrows, taking another sip of the wine and I watch the dark stain left behind on the glass as the drink travels down to the bottom.

A chuckle escapes my lips, all I do aside from shaking my head in response. It’s not quite that and, honestly, Frank doesn’t need to know why I’m in the military order or anything related to my personal and professional life. I can share it, only if I know who I’m talking to or want to lose my head.

“Would you like to hang out, then? Maybe take a breath outside or find a place in the living room or somewhere else.” He drinks the rest of the wine before setting the glass down on a table nearby and, with a nod, I also put my glass away.

“Why not?”

No one else pays attention to us leaving, more interested in fake laughing at whatever noble they come across—or who they think to be one—, most likely in a terrible attempt to gain their attention. And money. We easily walk past them and walk up the stairs, eventually reaching the balcony out the library’s room, where it’s possible to see a few people whenever they wander around the veranda.

“Better, isn’t it?” He sighs, lighting the fire in the lamps on the wall, and eventually joins me in standing by the railing.

“For sure.” Having a break from all the loud fake laughter among chattering and music is certainly a relief, as calming as the fresh air hugging us instead of the heat of the fire lighting the ballroom. The darkness doesn’t allow us to see much ahead of us as it does to see above us; I sigh softly at the sight of the stars. They’re different here, the season and the location allowing other constellations to make their appearance. It’s always breathtaking.

“For how long are you staying?”

“Until the end of the week, so it gives me about three days.” I fight against wanting to lean over the railing to keep observing the stars, but I eventually do it with a sigh, not wanting to be impolite towards Frank. “Maybe sooner. I don’t have many reasons to stay here after my business with the Earl is solved.”

“Maybe you won’t even ever leave here.” Something lies under Frank’s tone, his voice quiet and deeper, though I never have the chance to question him—he is cornering me against the railing, standing right there at the moment I turn around.

“Frank, I—”

“Y’know, I thought it’d be a bad idea to invite you over and all,” he says softly, holding onto my hip as his free hand cups the side of my neck, “but then Gerard promised you’d be all mine. Of course I liked it, then. It’s been a while since I last drank from someone alive.”

“Wh—What do you...” Oxygen feels thicker than it should, as if refusing to get in my lungs and stopping at my throat at the moment Frank’s lips part to show sharp fangs that momentarily disappear when his tongue runs across his lips. Fuck, I don’t think all the myths surrounding this part of the nobility were actual lies. I can’t die here, not like this. “Fuck off!” I reach into my dress for my cross, snapping the chain at how I try to hold it towards him, but again—how can these blood sucking beasts be affected by everything that’s holy if there are rumors we find them even inside churches? It doesn’t hurt to try. He at least gets annoyed at the silver touching his skin, flinching.

“Stop! It’ll be easier for both of us if you don’t struggle!” Frank bares his teeth with a groan, taking hold of my wrist to push the cross away and, hell, he is strong though certainly nothing I can’t handle. We usually aren’t trained for vampires—not with the doubt regarding their existence still running among the order, but I do know how silver affects them, and suddenly McCracken’s tips and weapons secretly slipped into my bag are very much appreciated. Maybe his stories aren’t all lunacy.

With a right movement, it’s easy to use Frank’s own strength against himself so he’s sent stumbling across the balcony as I lean back against the railing. Reaching for the dagger in the holster attached to my thigh is fucking hard, even more under all these layers of fabric, but I’m already holding the silver blade his way when he’s up on his feet and glaring at me.

“I’m not afraid to kill you,” I say softly, “I don’t care what problems I get in.”

“You’ll be executed either by the court or by your own little order if you execute me,” Frank chuckles, acting as if he was in a simple meeting and not being threatened.

Frank is right, no matter if he’s il Duca of God knows where in Italy, the Earl and the other knights will make sure I’m hunted down as a mistake to be erased. Is it legitimately important, though? I’m dying either way, so I must choose the option in which there’s more time left.

“I’m not afraid of it.” I adjust the dagger in my palm, never averting my eyes away from him while I reach to get rid of the mask, also freeing myself from part of the blink spots. My face itches where the mask dug into the skin, probably having left red lines behind. “I’m not the kind of knight afraid to get their hands stained.”

Instead of lunging forward as I had expected or pulling some twisted trick, all he does is to tense up, eyes widening behind the mask. Or is it all part of a bigger trick? I can’t risk it. I take a step back—he doesn’t fucking react—just to make sure to get away from the railing and avoid any falling ‘accident’. Still, Frank keeps looking at me as if he saw a ghost. Or at least like when an ordinary human sees a ghost, and he’s none of those, not ordinary nor human, hence I’m afraid it might be the way a predator eyes its prey, something that’s far from good.

“Can you lower that damn thing?” Frank says out of sudden, making me jump on my place. “I’m not going to kill you.”

“Why should I fucking trust you?” I exhale.

“Because I would’ve already killed you if I wanted to, okay?” He rolls his eyes. His mask is thrown somewhere on the ground and he sighs, rubbing his face. “Like, you wouldn’t even see it, I wasn’t even looking for having fun in a little hunt this time! I was—am—just hungry! I— Oh, lord, just don’t leave without talking with me, please, hm?” He gets his mask again with a groan, twisting his mouth. “And don’t tell anyone else about this. Please.” And he disappears into the library’s darkness. Alright, then.

~

“...and this letter to be sent to...” Gerard trails off once his eyes land on me, but does nothing more than raise his eyebrows lightly, and quickly dismisses the butler to continue his breakfast. “Well, Mx. (L/n), good morning! How did you sleep?”

“Good morning!” I nod, taking a seat by his left side, across from Toro and the younger Way, and next to Frank—poor guy receives glares from the others. “Slept very well, thank you.” A lot of food and drinks sit on the table, making my breakfast choice hard until I decide to try more of the Ways’ traditional recipes and have the maid serve me a tea of my choice. “You guys are fairly quiet, aren’t you? Almost like you saw a ghost.” I chuckle. So funny.

“Almost.” The younger Way shakes his head.

Gerard hums, seeming to think for a moment before he shrugs and takes a sip of his tea. If that’s tea. God, I’m in a mansion infested with beasts.

Breakfast isn’t awkward, only weird. The guys don’t act any different from usual, and even if it’s good, it feels like something more should be happening, something slowly waiting up for the right time to break in. Thankfully, it never happens. There’s nothing other than the normal politeness as we talk and are eventually dismissed to our own activities after the breakfast is over, hence I soon find myself in the garden with Frank. Must be such a blessing to them that this part of England is rarely sunny.

“Not getting in trouble for not having killed a Knight even after they found out about your secret?” I glance at Frank, though I’m more interested in the deep red roses decorating the base of a statue.

“I’m my own person, they don’t have a say in this.” He follows my gaze for a moment before stepping in front of me. “They don’t have a say in how I want to take you with me as well.”

“What do you mean?”

“I need to go back to Italy, maybe you’d like to come along?” Frank’s eyes drift down, though not to the ground. “I can find some excuse that you need to be there because the Pope needs to see you or something.”

Now, that’s intriguing.

“Why would you want me, Frank? Why did you even let me live?” I furrow my eyebrows, about to ask another question when he’s taking my hands in his, thumbs running over my knuckles. It’s sudden. I almost take a step back.

“You... I just can’t kill you. You’re just too beautiful.” he says softly, looking into my eyes, though I know there’s something else.

And what’s there to lose? A weird feeling remains bugging me, heaving in my chest, but I know there’s nothing worth my time in the order anymore. And I got a lot of silver, if needed. Being a knight isn’t exactly the job I wanted, but the one I was pulled into and forced to execute, continuing to be torturous no matter the beauty the church coats it with. Non nobis, Domine, non nobis, sed Nomini tuo da gloriam.

“As long as you don’t kill me.”

Frank’s eyes widen and he shakes his head. “No, honey, never.” His eyebrows furrow, and tha comfort I had found in talking with Frank a few years ago is clearly still there. For some reason, it gives me a funny feeling. As if my heart flutters.

“When are you leaving, again?”

Leaving at 10 pm has us arriving at Rome by the morning. My pocket watch indicates 07:30 am when we walk past the gates to Frank’s manor, greeted by the employees who disappear as soon as they help us with the baggage. It’s a wide building, to be honest, and the fact he lives all by himself—which he didn’t fail to mention during the train trip—makes me wonder if the family used to be wider at some point. Ivy grows on the side of the building, giving it such a cozy and beautiful feeling.

“Like it?” Frank smiles and I nod, continuing my way to the front door.

I’m granted a brief tour around the mansion with the promise I’ll be helped whenever I get lost. Is this moving in? Is it just a pause from my normal life? Whatever it is, it’s much better than having to deal with a Cardinal’s lecture and all the paperwork of relations with England.

“What made you not kill me?” It’s the same question I’ve asked countless times since our encounter in the garden, but it’s something I’m determined to get the real answer for, and not quick changes of subject or lame excuses. For someone who’s potentially gone through more decades of life than he appears, Frank sure isn’t... the best at this. He opens his mouth to say something, but I cut him off. “Answer properly, for once.”

The room has mainly warm colors, the black mixing with deep red and golden, from the walls to the tapestry to the bed. Light slips into the room, faint due to the clouds blocking the sunlight, but enough to dismiss the use of any candle. It’s all very comfortable. More inviting than the Way manor.

Frank is silent, still standing at the same spot when I sit down on the bed, now facing him. A sigh escapes his lips and he scratches the back of his neck. “I just couldn’t kill you. I don’t know. Some people are just worth keeping.” And he’s keeping things to himself, again.

“Why don’t you join me here?” I pat the space on the bed next to me and Frank takes a long moment to react, but eventually sits down beside me.

“I know how confusing this must be, but I don’t think trying to explain it to you will help a lot either.” Frank pauses hesitant, fingers twitching around mine as I take his hands in mine, giving them a light squeeze. They’re cold and Frank’s pale, but he doesn’t have that dead appearance the vampires are described to have—none of his friends do, either. “Not for now, at least.”

“For now? What do you mean?”

A grin tugs on Frank’s lips, exposing his sharp fangs—is there a specific reason for them to seem more protuberant? Maybe anger, hunger?—as a chuckle escapes his lips. “Mi amore, either you die here or I will turn you into one of us. Don’t you think it would be amazing?” His hand frees itself from mine to cup my cheek as something changes in his eyes. I reach for his chest, resting my hand against it out of reflex as he leans in. “The power. A long life. To be with me,” he says softly into my ear, cheek almost pressing to mine. How adorable.

“The power,” I mumble and he hums in agreement, lips lingering against my jaw. “To be with you.” And he hums again, squeezing my hand. “Why would I want to be with you for so long?”

“I can give you whatever you want!” Frank presses a kiss to my jaw. “Anything.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little quick?” I trace my fingers up his chest, playing a little with his collar.

“You’ll understand it better if you’re changed,” he says softly against my cheek. “I don’t want to pressure you too much tho, I just... There’s something about you and I don’t want to let you go.” And he tenses up, slowly pulling himself back. Curious.

Frank’s Addam’s apple bobs up and down with a thick swallow as I pull the strands of hair away to cup his face; the skin feels as cold against my palm as his hands did. Weird, but not bad. Frank’s breath, however, hitches in his throat at how I take a hold of his jaw to tilt his head to the side, inspecting the bite mark against the side of his neck. Looks like it never fully healed. A shaky exhale escapes his nose at how I run my thumb over it and press down on the skin. Sensitive?

“Well, then...” I mumble. Am I lost in his charms or following my own will? “I don’t think it’d be that bad.”

And Frank is looking at me again, eyes hungry, and the grin he threatens to crack is limited to a small smirk before his lips are meeting mine, lips guiding the kiss all so perfectly as his arms wrap themselves around my body and the pressure around my ribs slowly decreases at how he undos the knot holding my corset together, and slowly pulls it off to throw it to the ground so he can start working on unbuttoning my shirt. It hangs open on my body as we get rid of our shoes to climb to the middle of the bed, and even if I don’t appreciate it, I let him do it for now, lips pressed to mine as he straddles my thighs while helping me out of my shirt and swats my hand away when I try to reach for his.

Frank shrugs his shirt off with a sigh in an attempt to catch his breath. Useless for now, with how eager for my lips he appears to be. His tongue runs against my bottom lip, threatening to slip between them when he is trailing kisses down to my jaw, where he nips at the skin, seeming careful not to break it and draw blood just yet.

“Do you like it?” Frank asks softly against the skin, hands pressed against my sides to run up and down the skin. His thumbs press down against my hips at some point, rubbing circles into it in a way my breath is caught in my throat and I close my hands around the sheets, his hands then resting flat against my lower stomach. “Tell me how it feels, hun.” His tongue runs across my neck.

I sigh softly, letting him continue for a moment. “How about no?”

Frank pulls away to furrow his eyebrows at me. “Excuse me?”

“I said, how about no?” A grin tugs on my lips this time as I manage to switch places despite a little struggle, straddling Frank’s hips—he gasps, only stopping his complaining once I take a hold of both of his wrists to hold them by his head.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He groans, though never daring to move.

“Oh?” I arch an eyebrow, letting my thumbs sink down on his wrists. He is covered in such beautiful tattoos. “You want me to stop? All you gotta do is tell me.” His mouth opens and closes a few times only for a moan to escape it at the moment I roll my hips against his, humming softly at the sensation.

“Why don’t you let go so I can take care of you, so good, hm?” Frank’s tongue runs between his lips as a shaky breath goes through his nose.

“Wouldn’t be so fun.” I shake my head and wrap a hand around his throat, thumb sinking at a spot under his jaw to tilt his head to the side. “It isn’t how I want things to go.”

“You aren’t in position to choose anything— Fuck,” Frank groans instead of any complaint, a higher-pitched sound escaping his lips at how I press down more between the two punctures on his neck. Despite another attempt to say something, his breath catches in his throat the moment I repeat the motion, this time my hand tight around his whole neck.

“What’s it again?” I grin and chuckle at the moment he only complains incoherently as an answer and lean in for a kiss, letting my thumb run over the unhealed wounds, soothingly this time. He hums against my lips, and lets me guide the kiss this time at a slow but intense pace.

My lips trail down to his jaw with soft kisses, eventually reaching his neck as my hand falls to his chest. Weak sounds spill from his lips with how my teeth tug at the skin, followed by a last and breathy sound when I finally sit up again. His chest heaves up and down, but comes to a brief pause when I start removing my cross from around my neck. He follows every moment with wide eyes, gulping.

“Y’know, I don’t really care about who you are or what you can do...” I play lightly with the cross between my fingers before looking at him. “After all, you’re just a pretty little thing, aren’t you?” I chuckle. “And I’ll have fun with it.”

“I hate you,” Frank says, cursing under his breath.

“Now, how about not saying things you don’t mean?” I grin, only having more fun with how he stares at me with a posture that’s dropping layer by layer, earning me each time more sounds from him, and it happens again when I press the unblended silver cross to the center of his chest. He gasps, whining over the sizzling sound resulting from where the metal meets the skin, causing a little steam to rise, his leg twitching a little under me. I pull it away and watch the bright pink skin healing back, his pretty tattoos also restored perfectly. Not normal ink, I presume? “Oh my, I was actually just wondering whether you’d like this or not, but... I mean, it’s good that you like it, but wow...” I mumble with a roll of hips, letting it happen again over his left pec and he actually pushes himself up when I pull the cross away sooner than earlier. Amusing.

I don’t know how long I take dragging the cross down his skin or pressing the metal to it repeatedly, but it feels like forever has passed when I finally put it away in order to remove my pants and underwear, and receiving a nod from me, Frank also gets rid of the rest of his clothes. Soon, I’m straddling his hips again. He doesn’t even react this time.

“You good? Aren’t you going to curse me or anything?” My hands run up and down his chest, trailing his pecs and falling to his tummy.

“Fuck off!” Frank’s head falls to the side as he rolls his eyes, and it’s the funniest thing in the world. He had everything to be in control right now, but he’s shuddering and humming under my touches. Maybe I want him as much as he wants me and vice-versa and I want to tease him for longer, but I simply can’t help it as I shift my hips and feel his cock slipping between my lips—it has both of us gasping and moaning at the motion. His hands reach for my thighs with how he tries to move his hips as well, seeking for support, only for me to swat them away.

“No, no touching me unless I allow,” I mumble with a sigh, rocking my hips once again and helplessly moaning at how he slides against my clit, sending the pleasure sparkling through my lower stomach. It’s hard to continue the motion after repeating it a couple of times. Well, I don’t want to cum here or cum fast when he’s inside me nor do I want the same to happen to him. A final, long groan escapes my throat as I come to a stop. “How bad do you want me?”

“So much,” Frank mutters, eyes dark. “You look so delic—”

My palm meets his cheek with a sharp sound. “I’m not talking about blood, you thirsty fuck.”

“Just...” he says weakly, still not facing me. Some strands of hair flew over his red cheek and now cover part of his face, but his miserable and needy expression is still visible. “Just fuck me. Please.” His hips push up and he moans softly, almost making me do the same.

“Gladly.”

I pull myself up on my knees, raising myself enough to make it possible to guide his cock inside me and both of us gasp at the same time, breath hitching as I lower myself until finally letting my weight down on him. I roll my hips experimentally, moaning at how he manages to touch all the right spots.

“So good,” I sigh, rolling my hips again also for his moans.

“Yeah, love, so, so, good,” he breathes. His hands reach for my thighs once more, just for me to catch his wrists and pin them together to the mattress, above his head.

“You don’t listen, do you?” I glare at Frank despite starting to move my hips, trying to contain my moans. As if I hadn’t met surprises enough so far, moans start spilling from his lips, whiny, and more often than they do from mine. “How do you feel when I do that to you, hm? Ever had anyone control you that well? Make you feel this good?” Leaning forward, I am able to find just the right angle, making me moan as I repeatedly lower myself against him and the wet sound that already filled the room before is now accompanied by moans and curses along with the soft slapping of skin meeting skin.

“N-No,” Frank whines, voice shaking at how I clench around him, slowing down my movements for a second. “Feels so good. You feel so good, (y/n), so good.” His bottom lip rolls between his teeth and even if muffled, the hopeless sounds still escape his throat, high pitched and needy, which intensifies once I build a faster pace.

“And so do you,” I breathe and decide to just focus on moving for now, not only due to running out of ideas on how to verbally tease him, but also because I don’t want my voice to falter with the eventual moans as the pleasure grows stronger.

Consistent moans come from Frank according to how my body meets his, growing louder given how I move, though I don’t fail in moaning whenever a certain harsher motion allows him to reach in deeper. My thighs sometimes threaten to give up as if the sensations would continue without the movements, making it sometimes more of a struggle to fight against wanting to settle down for slow movements. They’re good, of course, but extremely teasing, and that’s not what I’m seeking for right now.

A louder gasp comes from Frank with my nails sinking into the skin around his wrists, his eyes meeting mine in a silent plea for more. Beautiful, certainly, but also very easy to ignore.

I let out a louder moan, moving my hips faster until the sharp pain tugging on the back of my thighs gives me no choice rather than move back. I bring his hands with me and press them flat against my torso, compelling him to gasp as he closes them around my waist, squeezing the skin before trailing down to my hips. Even with the new freedom, he is hesitant, moving slowly and uncertain. I don’t say anything against it or encouragingly, simply enjoy the pleasure I seek by myself and let my hands rest flat against his chest, though my fingers curl up, scratching the skin at how he starts moving his hips up to meet mine and his thumb meets my clit.

“Fuck—” I gasp, thighs quivering a little while I try to keep the fast pace. “Frank, love, don’t stop— Oh, fuck—”

“I... I won’t,” Frank mumbles, though I doubt his mind is processing much more than how he pushes up against me and I clench around him every time he hits a sensitive spot, which happens more often than not. Both of us are sent moaning louder at how I roll my hips like I’d done before. Frank’s grasp around me tightens, fingers sinking into my skin and surprisingly not piercing through it. “You’re— You’re so hot,” he mumbles, blinking slowly as his eyes meet mine. This time, I’m only able to flash a brief grin in response, quickly melting in moans again. “‘M gonna turn you, fuck, gonna be so hot, babe, finally drink your blood,” his voice shakes with a whine as he babbles, but I can’t help but to imagine what he says, compelling the pleasure to start building up in my lower stomach. Oh hell.

“C’mon, Frankie, I’m getting close,” I sigh, adjusting my hands on his chest and trying to ignore the pain tugging on my legs as I increase the pace; Frank whines, nodding, and noticeably moving faster and twitching inside me and gripping on me and— Fuck.

Out of sudden, my back hits the mattress, knocking the air out of me for a moment as I continue to be fucked, now seeking for support on tangling my fingers with Frank’s hair, pulling him closer—he whines, face pressed to my neck. Frank’s hand is now firmly hooked under my knees to hold my leg spread and up, fingers digging into the skin whilst he’s still sinking in deep, making my thighs quiver with each thrust and stroke against my clit.

“‘M close, so close,” he mumbles against my neck. Whatever answer I try to give him comes out incoherent, groans with some sort of rhythm while I tug at his hair and snatch more sounds from him while he nibbles on my neck, sometimes letting his tongue run across my neck.

The pleasure built in my lower stomach suddely grows more intense until I’m fucking coming at the moment a sharp pain spreads on the side of my neck. I arch my back, this familiar feeling running up my spine and running down, making my curl my toes and feel my damn heartbeat between my legs as I hold Frank closer. My mind goes blank, the only thing grounding me aside from the pain and coming being the feeling of warm liquid trailing back down my shoulder at the same time Frank also comes. It’s too hard to breathe—maybe my lungs are too small, the oxygen too thick, I...

.

My body slowly relaxes after what feels like a long time reserved not only for coming, also giving my mind a break, but it’s still hard to think. Hard to focus. I can see Frank over me, looking at me with caring eyes and blood smeared lips, but I can’t do anything.

“Just rest for now, mi amore,” he whispers into my ear.

____________________

Tagging list: @lubbockshusband

[mochegato]

Even the Losers

Chapter 17

Chapter 1     Chapter 16

Marinette shook her head and tried to hide her giggles. Red Robin had to have thought he was being discrete, right?  Unless he was intentionally making himself known as a way to intimidate any more rogues from trying to get to her.  He was discrete enough that the average person probably wouldn’t notice him, but anyone paying attention, looking for him, would see him easily.

She waited until he was looking down at her again and waved at him.  He smiled and waved back before blushing, shaking his head, and motioning for her to continue. Marinette grinned and looked back at the map on her phone.  The restaurant Jason chose was around here somewhere.  One of the places he just ended up at a lot, he said.  Low key and cozy, exactly the kind of place she needed right now.

After that, he said he was planning on following her around for the rest of the day.  He’d said it in a joking tone, but she knew there was nothing joking about his intent.  He would be shadowing her for the rest of the day. He couldn’t hide the gravity behind the statement.  He couldn’t mask the concerned questions, no matter how casually he tried to play them off. The insistence on seeing her apartment, make sure the view was good enough and the kitchen was stocked enough. The way he casually suggested she teach him how to make a baked good she liked.  

Honestly, she was shocked he let her walk there on her own, but he said he’d be have eyes on her anyway.  She looked back up at Red Robin with a smile.  Clearly, he wasn’t kidding.  White lensed eyes.  The smile quickly morphed into a frown when she couldn’t see him.  He hadn’t been hidden this whole time, so where was he now? She squeaked and whirled around into a fighting stance when she heard someone land behind her.  She barely had time to put her hands down before Red Robin was standing next to her, his hand on her shoulder while he looked around, eyes sharp and calculating.

Marinette followed his lead and scanned the crowd. In lieu of knowing what she was looking for, she kept her eye out for anything that seemed out of place. Everything looked normal though. Nothing seemed suspicious.  There were a few people throwing them odd looks, but nothing that seemed hostile or calculating, instead it seemed more curious and fearful of what having a vigilante dropping down in the middle of the night meant for them.

Red Robin turned back to face her.  “Let’s get you somepl…” his hand went up to his ear. “Shit!”

Marinette’s eyes widened in fear.  “What happened?  Did someone get hurt?”

Red Robin’s eyes looked around them again and narrowed at one of the buildings.  He moved his arm to her back and firmly pushed her toward the building. “Nobody is hurt.”

She looked at him doubtfully.  “But…”

“There’s just an issue that needs attention, but nobody has been hurt,” he assured her, looking down briefly to meet her eyes.

Marinette nodded uncertainly, not feeling calmer with his reassurance.  She couldn’t see his eyes past the white filters to gauge his sincerity, and it was unsettling.  “So my friend and brother, my… the Waynes, they’re… nobody is hurt?”

Red Robin paused almost imperceptibly.  If she hadn’t become used to his constant pressure on her back, she wouldn’t have noticed.  He looked back down at her as they walked, the tense muscles in his face softened considerably.  “They’re all safe.  Your friend and brother and family.  They’re all safe.  I promise. I just need to go assist someone, but I don’t want to leave you alone.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow at him.  “I can defend myself you know.”

Red Robin gave her a deadpan expression. She��s sure if he didn’t have a mask, he’d have his own eyebrow raised at her.  “After last night, you can understand that we and your family are a bit concerned and perhaps a bit overprotective just right now.”

Marinette rolled her eyes with a sigh but didn’t fight him.  “So you’re going to, what?  Hide me in some abandoned office until everything blows over?  That sounds safe.”

Red Robin huffed out a laugh.  “Absolutely safe.  That is our standard approach.  I’m glad you understand how we operate.”  He gave her a look she couldn’t quite decipher with his mask in the way.  “No.  I think your family would hunt me down if I did something so reckless with you.  They’re quite protective, you know?”  

Marinette opened her mouth to say something but shut it quickly.  He was a stranger.  There was absolutely no reason to get into her family dynamics with him.  “No,” he continued, oblivious to her uncertainty. “I’m going to stash you with someone we know we can trust.”

Marinette looked up at him with narrowed eyes.  “A babysitter.”

The corners of Red Robin’s mouth quirked up. “Well, if you’re going to whine like a baby…” he teased.

Marinette gasped dramatically.  “If you want whining, I can show you whining.  I grew up with the most spoiled brat in existence.  I can give new meaning to the word.”  Red Robin actually laughed as he opened the door to the business.  “You know, I’m supposed to meet my… um… br… brother,” she stuttered over the word.  “Jason’s going to wonder about me.”

Red Robin cringed slightly.  “You should probably text him.  It isn’t a good idea for you to go out until this is resolved.” Marinette nodded and shot a text off to Jason letting him know she was okay and Red Robin was putting her somewhere safe for a bit.

They heard movement from the building, finally drawing Marinette’s attention to the business they had gone into.  “Can I help… T… Red Robin?  Marinette?” Roy asked pushing out from behind a motorcycle with its transmission in his hands.

“Hey, I was hoping you could watch Marinette while I take care of something.  You’re a friend with the Waynes right?” Red Robin asked pointedly.

Roy stared at him for a few seconds before realization set in.  “Yeah. Yeah, we’re like fam…” he looked over to Marinette, “well, not family family.  But, uh, yeah.”

Red Robin cocked his head to the side and pursed his lips.  “No, I’m pretty sure you are con…” he was cut off by something in his com.  He paused for a moment to listen before turning back to Roy with what Marinette was pretty sure was supposed to be a glare.  “I’m trusting you,” he growled.  “There’s some madness going on.”

Roy’s face turned serious and he gave him a determined nod.  “I’ll protect her.  Go.”

Red Robin looked between them for a second then nodded and took off.  Roy and Marinette watched him leave for a second before turning back to each other. Marinette gave him a shy smile. “Hi,” she waved sheepishly. “Sorry to just drop in on you like this.”

Roy gave her a welcoming smile and motioned to the garage bay.  “Not at all. I guess you’re just visiting sooner than we anticipated.  Can’t say I’m upset at all.”  He moved some parts off of a stool and motioned toward it for her to sit.  “I should say sorry that you have to hunker down here. You definitely look like you were going somewhere a bit nicer.”

Marinette looked down at her outfit analytically, a blood red, long-sleeved blouse, black skinny jeans, and black heeled boots. She’d wanted to wear ladybug colors after the previous night in the Riddler’s facility and the Wayne dining room. Ladybug colors always reminded her of the strongest, most resilient parts of herself.  She looked back up at him, her eyes catching on the coat rack behind him.  “Excuse you. All I need is that jacked over there and I’d fit right in.  In fact, I’d match your baby.”

Roy looked to where she was looking, seeing his black leather jacket hanging up.  He blushed slightly at the idea of her wearing his jacket.  He could picture it on her, the jacket hanging loosely off of her significantly smaller frame, her clinging to him as they rode on his bike… He looked back at her with a soft look. “And you would still be too classy to be here.”

Marinette pouted at him.  “You say that like I don’t fit in.”  She didn’t want to say the ‘with you’ that was running through her head.  Did he think she wouldn’t fit with him?  “I can fit. I can even be helpful.”

Roy shook his head.  “No, not at all just…”  He motioned to his own clothes, an old tee, stained jeans, and a backwards ball cap that was just as stained with grease as his jeans, and then motioned to her.

Marinette looked between the two of them and grinned. “You underestimate my ability to get dirty.  Give me a few minutes and I’ll be as dirty as you.”

Roy’s eyes snapped to the wrench in his hand. Based on the complete lack of amusement or sultriness in her eyes, she did not at all realize what she just said. He took a few seconds, it may have been minutes, to calm his heart and mind.  “Okay, how about you prove it?”

Marinette raised an eyebrow at him.  “Prove what?”

“That you can be helpful.  Roll up those sleeves and help me with this engine.”  He motioned to the transmission on the workbench next to her.  “I can also get you some coveralls so your outfit won’t get dirty if you prefer.” He looked back at her with an amused glint in his eyes.  “They’ll be a bit big on you…”  Marinette narrowed her eyes at him but his eyes danced with even more amusement at her reaction.  “Since you’re so litt…”

“You know what…” she cut him off, standing to get in his personal space.  She stared up at him, her eyes meeting his for a moment before her cheeks burst into color.  She looked away and cleared her throat.  After a second to recover, she motioned to the transmission as she rolled up her sleeves. “Just tell me what you’re doing and how I can help.”

Roy grinned and twirled the wrench in his hand. “Yes, ma’am.”  

He leaned over the transmission and started loosening one of the nuts holding the piece together.  His hand faltered for a fraction of a second when Marinette leaned next to him, close enough for him to feel her breath as she let out a sigh, close enough to feel her body heat.  Close enough he could easily wrap his arms around her and pull her against him.  He had to tighten his hands to keep them from reaching over.

He took a breath to focus.  Now was not the time.  She had just been kidnapped and people could take a bit of time to recover from something like that, especially considering the things she had said about having a breakdown.  He flicked his eyes over to her trying to assess how she was doing.  Her eyes were intently watching his hands as they moved around the transmission.  They were sharp and her body seemed to be relaxing the longer she watched him work.  If he didn’t know better, he’d never know she had been kidnapped and threatened the night before.

She looked up at him questioningly when his hands stilled as he analyzed her.  He gave her a small smile and motioned toward the tool box.  “Um… I need… Can you, um, get me the, um… 5/16th wrench, please?” he stuttered.

Marinette jumped up to search through the wrenches in the box.  She frowned, her lip jutting out as she searched.  “I don’t see it here.  Is there somewhere else it could be?”

Roy’s face scrunched as he tried to remember where else he might have used it.  He’d been working on the bike almost all day.  He looked back at the motorcycle trying to remember what he had done with it. He was broken from his concentration by Marinette’s light giggle.  He looked over to her with a raised brow.  

Marinette looked away quickly, another blush on her cheeks.  She followed where his line of sight had been and searched around the motorcycle, focusing her energy on her search for the wrench instead of the adorable face he made when he was concentrating and the way his nose wrinkled up in thought and his lips quirked to the side.  After a minute of looking she shook her head and held her empty hands out for him to see.

“Any other ideas?” she asked as she came back over to her stool.

Roy sighed deeply and scanned the workbench. He had a backup set of wrenches, but he knew he had used that one recently.  It couldn’t have gone too far. His attention was brought back to Marinette when she giggled again, her giggles turning into full blown laughter.  He gave her a confused look which made her laugh louder.  She reached over the workbench, almost climbing onto it to grab the wrench that was behind the transmission.  She held the wrench out to him triumphantly with a smug, teasing smile on her lips.

Roy fought choking on air at the sight of her climbing onto his workbench and all the images that immediately flooded into his mind involving that particular scenario, especially in his jacket… and nothing else.  He took the wrench, hoping she believed the blush he knew was on his cheek was from embarrassment rather than where his thoughts had gone.  “Thanks,” he managed to mutter out.

“Anytime,” she grinned back.  “See?” she motioned to herself.  “Helpful.”

Roy chuckled and shook his head fondly. “Guess I’ll have to keep you around then.”

Marinette chuckled and let her focus settle back on the part he was working on.  She watched his hands move effortlessly and confidently over the pieces.  “Flathead screwdriver,” he asked, holding out his hand for her.  She quickly grabbed one and slapped it in his hand like he was a surgeon.  He looked up at her with a grin.  “Thanks, nurse.”

Marinette shook her head and let her gaze pass over the garage bay.  She quirked her head to the side when her eyes settled on a bow leaning up against the wall by the door.  “What’s with the bow?”

Roy’s head jerked up.  His eyes immediately found his bow and quiver.  He looked back at her with an almost natural smile. “Oh, I just… like to shoot.”

“It’s yours?” she asked perking up.

“Yeah… I just pulled it out… recently.”  His eyes flicked to the cut on her cheek quickly before returning to the transmission.

Marinette looked back at the bow.  “That sounds fun.  I always wanted to learn.  How did you learn?”

Roy’s eyes took on a far off look and a sentimental smile spread on his lips.  “My father, my adopted father.”

“Oliver?” Marinette asked, confusion clear in her voice as she tried to reconcile the sentimental smile with his description in the bar.

“Ah, so you know,” Roy said quietly, eyes suddenly in focus and pointed at the transmission.

Marinette gave him a sympathetic smile.  “Sorry.  Damian… he um… thought I knew,” she stuttered out.  She really didn’t want to get into that conversation right now.  She was sure Roy would be upset and it was just something she wanted to leave between her and Damian, not someone else.  “He just mentioned it yesterday.”

Roy nodded and flicked his eyes up to her for a second, gauging her reaction, waiting for the questions.  There were always questions.  Questions about Oliver, questions about their relationship, questions about their money.  The exact combination might change but they were always there.  “Sorry for bringing it up,” she said quietly.

Roy shook his head, with a small smile.  “No.  It isn’t your fault.  No not Oliver.  It was before Oliver.  My birth father died saving me from a forest fire and a man named Brave Bow adopted me. He raised me.  He was a really good man.  He taught me how to be a good person and how to shoot… and just about everything else I know.”

The smile on Roy’s face made Marinette smile too. “He sounds like a good father.”

Roy nodded.  “He was,” he said quietly.  He looked over at her hesitantly before focusing back on the piece he was working on. “How are you feeling?”

Marinette quirked her head to the side.  “Feeling?  Not as useful as I could be.  A burden on you more than a help, if I’m being honest,” she shrugged.

Roy snorted.  “Sorry, I’ll try to get you to do more of my work for me.”  He sent her a smirk that got an eye roll out of her.  “And I would never call you a burden.  In fact, I’d fight to keep you nearby,” he added quietly, no longer meeting her eyes.  He tried to focus on the transmission but he could feel her eyes on him, making it impossible to think of anything else.  

After a few seconds he cleared his throat.  “I mean after,” he motioned toward her face, his hand still grasping the gear he had just removed.  “How are you handling it?  The Riddler’s no joke.”

Marinette scoffed and picked up a wrench.  She spun it in her hand as a distraction while she spoke.  “He really isn’t.  I didn’t find him funny at all.”  Roy gave her a flat look and returned to working on the part, letting her decide to continue discussing it or not.  “How did you know?” she asked quietly.

“He broadcast it to all Gotham.  Everybody knows.  Everybody saw you deliver the verbal smack down of the century,” he grinned at her.  “It was inspiring.  You were amazing.”

“I was pissed is what I was,” she grumbled.  She looked away and sighed, running her hand over her face and grimacing when she accidentally touched her cut.  “I forgot everyone would see that.”

She stared at the wrench as she twirled it in her hands.  She knew the Waynes probably knew she was taken.  She’d called Jason to let him know she was fine, but had pretended she had to go talk to the police and cut the call short.  She really didn’t want to talk to them after the scene at dinner. She didn’t want to have the conversations she knew they were going to want to have.  She just wanted to move on.  It didn’t have anything to do with them, especially the kids.  It was her past, one they had no way of knowing about and no way of helping with.  There was no reason to hash through it all again.

But she hadn’t realized they would get to see the full video.  She frowned at the thought.  She’d said so much while she was yelling and she couldn’t remember what all she had said. It was a moment of weakness that now the entire city, possibly the world now knew about.  Thankfully she was positive she didn’t mention anything about the miraculous so to anyone watching she would have looked like any other normal, non-miraculous wielding person.

And on top of it all, she wasn’t sure if she was grateful or upset that M. Wayne hadn’t reached out to see if she was alright. All of the kids had even Lucius had, but not him… or Alfred.  After the way she left, he might not feel like he’s allowed to.  But still… he hadn’t bothered to check on her at all.

She looked up with a weak smile.  “Guess I’ve truly experienced Gotham now.”

Roy grimaced.  “Sorry about that.”  He watched her as she seemed to work through her feelings on the matter, going from annoyed to hurt.  He returned his attention to the engine part.  “I think I need to start calling you Fire Flower.”

Marinette looked up at him curiously.  “Fire Flower?”

“Yeah,” he looked up briefly with a spark in his eyes. “It’s like a fire cracker, but cuter. More impressive to look at.” Marinette blushed and looked down, accidentally dropping the wrench she had been playing with.  Roy grinned widely at her before focusing back on his work. “You sure you feel safe?” he asked, still focusing on the engine.

Marinette nodded.  “I have Adrien and Max.  We might not look like we can protect ourselves, but we’re pretty good at it.” Actually incredibly well.  She was possibly the best protected person in the world right now, but he didn’t have any way of knowing that.

“I’m actually pretty surprised Adrien isn’t with you right now or Max.”  He looked over at her with a raised eyebrow.

Marinette nodded.  “You’re not wrong.  They would be but Max just started work and couldn’t really take a day off immediately and Adrien had a job interview in Metropolis today.  And this is the one he’s really excited about.  I was supposed to go with him and check out Metropolis, but then I wouldn’t have had anyone with me while he was in the interview and that made them a bit too nervous.  Here at least they know I have the bats following me at all times so, they were pretty confident I was safe.”

“The bats are keeping an eye on you, huh?” Roy asked with a secretive grin.

Marinette nodded.  “I’m not sure if they’re trying to be subtle, but yeah.  I don’t know what kind of relationship they have with the Waynes. They mentioned… the bats certainly act like they talk a lot and know each other well.”

Roy froze for a second.  Well, they certainly weren’t being as discrete as they normally are, it would seem.  Although after last night, he could imagine they were pretty flustered.  He had been and she was just an acquaintance to him. He wanted it to be more but… that wasn’t the point.  But at this rate, she was going to figure it out before they told her and he didn’t imagine that going well for them.  “So you’ve caught them a few times?”

“Caught is a liberal term for it.  Is it catching if they aren’t really hiding?  I think Red Robin might have been trying… maybe, but Batman was on our balcony, standing vigil all night last night.”

Roy glanced over for a second.  “Batman was watching over your apartment last night?”

Marinette nodded.  “Markov said he was there until Red Robin took over some time around breakfast.”

Roy paused for a few seconds then tapped the screwdriver against the workbench.  “And… Bruce? Did Bruce check in on you?”

Marinette looked away and licked her lips before pursing them.  She twisted the wrench around a few more times, focusing entirely on that, not meeting Roy’s eyes.  “No,” she finally said in a falsely calm voice.  “I… I didn’t…  Dinner didn’t go so well.”

Roy moved closer to her until he was close enough to reach her comfortably but still gave her space so he wasn’t crowding her. He ducked his head to try to meet her eyes.  She yielded quickly and met his eyes.  “He’s worried about you.  I guarantee you he is.  He’s just… shit at emotions and reading a room.  

“If you guys fought, I promise you he isn’t less worried about you, he’s just afraid that seeing him or hearing from him will upset you more.  I promise you he’s finding out everything he can about how you are from anyone that will tell him.  He cares. Your fight didn’t push him away. He’s just a fucking idiot.  And an asshole, so there’s like a 97% chance if you did fight, it was his fault.  And he probably knows that, just not how to make it up to you.”

Marinette huffed out a laugh despite her eyes suddenly turning glassy. “I don’t need him to make it up, just… it’s not even his fault.  It was mine really.”  She fiddled with the wrench in her hands, testing the strength, trying to bend it, focusing on that as if it was the most interesting thing in the room.

“I doubt it.”  He sighed and readjusted his cap as he tried to come up with the right words.  “I’ve found that when bad things happen at the manor it’s almost always because Bruce was being a controlling little bitch.”  Instead of laughing, she frowned at the wrench. Right, calling her father, she’s trying to connect to a ‘controlling little bitch’ probably isn’t really helping. He sighed and looked back up trying to figure out how to remove the frown.  It didn’t look right on her face.  She should be smiling.  Always. “Do you want a hug?”

Marinette finally looked up from the wrench in surprise.  After a second she gave him a weak smile and shook her head, returning her focus to the wrench.  “I’m fine.”

Roy lightly placed his hand on the wrench to stop its motion. “That’s not what I asked,” he said gently.

She blinked at him a few times before a smirk quirked her lips up. “I mean… I’m not going to object to a handsome man wrapping his arms around me,” she answered slyly, throwing his words from days earlier back at him.  Roy grinned and wrapped his arms around her, gently at first but holding her tighter as the hug went on.  His arms were strong and reassuring, giving a sense of warmth and safety and Marinette quickly found herself melting into his embrace.  She nuzzled into his chest and dear God, she could feel his muscles moving through his shirt with every minute movement.

She tried to hide her frown when he pulled away after a few minutes. But, it turned into a smile when he stopped after a few inches, just enough to look down at her.  Roy smiled softly and rubbed her cheek with his thumb a few times.  Marinette leaned into his hand, captivated by the feel of his hand on her face.  He started to lean down but jumped away with the sound of clattering right next to them.  Roy moved in front of her, caging her in behind him as he looked for the source of the sound.

Marinette grimaced and leaned down to pick up the wrench that had slipped through her fingers when she was looking at Roy.  He chuckled awkwardly and moved back to his transmission. He started working on it again a lot slower than he had been before.  His hands were shaking slightly.  He could still feel the traces of her on his fingers and around his chest, trilling through him.  “Can you… um… the.  Can you hand me the Phillips head, please?” he stuttered, unable to get his mind settled.

Marinette stared at him for a few seconds, her cheeks still bright red, as her mind tried to kick back into gear.  She looked at the tools in the toolbox and back to him. “Is… that’s a tool, not like a horror movie thing, right?”

Roy blinked a few times before breaking out in laughter.  Marinette smiled at his laughter, beyond grateful for the change of topic.  “The one with the cross for a head,” he said motioning toward the screwdrivers.

“Oh,” Marinette nodded in understanding. “Tournevis cruciform,” she muttered to herself as she searched through the tools for the right screwdriver. “Americans and their naming things.”

Roy grinned at her outrage.  “And what do you call it?  The cross screwdriver.” he teased.

“That is literally what it translates to,” she deadpanned.

Roy puckered his lips in an attempt at keeping a smile off his lips and make his annoyed wrinkled brow more believable.  “Oh, well I bow to your superior naming capabilities,” he snarked with a fake bow.

Marinette nodded graciously and passed the screwdriver to him.  “Thank you. That’s all I ask.”

Roy laughed and returned to the transmission, pretending like he could focus on that instead of the kiss they almost had. Marinette watched, almost transfixed as he moved the gears synchronously on the transmission, creating intricate and ever changing patterns.  She pulled her sketchbook and pencil out to capture a sudden idea.

“The wrench?” Roy called out, not looking up from the transmission.  He held out his hand and waited for a few seconds before adding, “Please?”  He waited a little longer before repeating it a bit louder.  “Wrench, please?”  He finally looked up when she still hadn’t handed it to him.  “Marinette?”  He looked over to her concerned.  His face immediately softened when he saw her.

Marinette’s face was frozen in intense concentration on her sketchbook as she drew confidently and without hesitation.  She held the sketchbook out and tilted it slightly. She narrowed her eyes at it and tilted it a different way.  Her mouth curved into a satisfied smirk before she added in more details and notes. Her eyes lit up with inspiration, bright and clear.  She shook her head to get a stray strand of hair out of her eyes, hands too busy committing her inspiration to paper to waste time with such trivialities.  Roy shook his head, mentally berating himself for having backed off before.  She had been right there and leaning toward him.  Maybe Jason and Dick… and Tim and Damian, were right.  He was an idiot.

Before Roy realized what he was doing, he had reached out to tuck it behind her ear, being careful to avoid her cut as his fingers brushed her face.  Marinette jumped at the unexpected contact.  She looked up at him wide eyed but a sheepish look quickly overtook her expression. She looked down in embarrassment, but that only pressed her face further into Roy’s hand, which made her embarrassed blush deepen but not due to embarrassment this time.  “Sorry.  Did you need a tool?”

Roy shook his head.  He smiled and moved his hand slightly so it was cupping her face this time.  “It’s fine. I was enjoying watching you get caught up in inspiration.”

Marinette looked down again and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right.  It is probably the most embarrassing face.”

Roy smiled softly at her, his eyes shining with sincerity and fondness.  “No. It wasn’t.  It was cute.”  He took a step closer to her and leaned a bit closer, more intimately.  “I wouldn’t mind seeing it more.”

“More of my too distracted to pay attention to you face?” she smirked and leaned closer to him.

“Any version of your face you’ll let me see. Although I would prefer to see it with fewer cuts,” he frowned at the cut on her cheek as he rubbed a soothing line just below the bruise that had formed around the cut.  He leaned closer to examine the cut until his lips were centimeters from her cheek.  He flicked his eyes to her half lidded ones and leaned to close the distance.

“Hey, guys!” Dick boomed as he came into the room. Marinette and Roy jumped apart, or rather Roy jumped away and Marinette straightened up on the stool, grabbing the workbench to keep from falling off.  “Sorry I’m late.  And sorry I’m here instead of Jason.  He got… caught up in the attack.  Not personally!” he rushed to assure Marinette when her eyes widened and body stiffened.  “I meant he’s dealing with the fallout.  Jason is fine.  He’d just be really, really late and asked if I could come over here instead.  If that’s okay.”

Marinette nodded, but her eyes were still slightly widened.  “Of course. But you’re sure Jason’s okay?”

“Absolutely,” Dick shot her a charming smile.  “He’s just going to need a bit of time to deal with things,” he lied smoothly.  He looked between Marinette and Roy with narrowed eyes and moved between them as he hugged Marinette.  “He really, really wanted to be here with you today.  I think he’s planning on attaching himself to you tomorrow though.”

Marinette chuckled lightly.  “That’s okay.  We’ll have fun doing something.”  Her face suddenly sobered.  “Oh, no, wait.  I have lunch with Duke and Cass tomorrow.  I mean… I think I have lunch with them.  We had planned it, but that was before…” she trailed off, not wanting to go into detail at all, but especially in front of Roy.

“I’m sure you still do,” Dick assured her.  “They’re probably just waiting to get confirmation from you in case the last few days were a bit much and you wanted a break.”

“No!” Marinette exclaimed.  “No.  I’ll text them.  Thanks.”

“But I get you for tonight.  How do you feel about a movie marathon?” he grinned widely, already planning a full night’s marathon with her, Adrien, and Max.  She had to love Disney movies, right?  Who didn’t love Disney movies?

“I like movies,” Roy chirped with a teasing grin.

“No,” he answered sharply.  He turned back to Marinette with a mock sympathetic smile. “You must have been so bored here.”

Roy narrowed his eyes back at him but Marinette jumped up to defend Roy.  “Not at all. It was interesting watching him working on the bike.  I got some good inspiration too.”

Roy raised a pointed eyebrow at him with a smug grin.  “Motorcycles remind her of her grandmother.”

Dick looked back at Marinette who was looking back at Roy with a surprised expression.  “Good memory.”

“I remember important things,” he shrugged.

Dick glared at him.  “Uh huh.  But not to check if things are loaded.”  He looked back at Marinette.  “You’ve got something just there,” he motioned to the cheek Roy had stroked earlier. “You might want to get that grease off.”

“Oh!” Marinette exclaimed grabbing her cheek, almost succeeding in covering the blush that flushed on her cheeks.  “Do you have a bathroom I can use?”

Roy nodded and motioned toward the bathroom. “Just right over there.”

As soon as the door closed, Dick punched Roy’s shoulder.  Roy frowned at him.  “What?”

“What the Hell are you doing?” Dick hissed and motioned toward the bathroom.

“What?” Roy answered rubbing his shoulder.  At least it was just Dick.  If it was Jason, he’d be rubbing his jaw right now.  “Tim dropped her off here. ��What was I supposed to do?  Ignore her?”

“You were supposed to not hit on her,” he grumbled.

“That’s just unreasonable,” Roy rolled his eyes and leaned back against the workbench.  He motioned to the bathroom.  “Have you met her? She’s smart and sassy and really sweet.  She's funny and obviously gorgeous.  Who doesn’t want to hit on her?”

“Yeah.  I’ve met her. Didn’t hit on her.” Dick let out a long suffering sigh. “Jesus, Roy!  I’ve had her as a sister for like a week.  I don’t want to lose her because I’m in jail for killing you.”

“You’re her brother, you don’t count in the hitting on her count.  And please,” Roy scoffed, “you’re too good to go to jail for it.”

“True.  Just…” he narrowed his eyes at him and pointed at him threateningly, “if you mess around and hurt her… I’ll choose her over you.  And I won’t forget to load the magazines and Jason will be more than happy to use them.”

“That’s hurtful,” Roy groused.  “One time.  I forgot to load the magazines one time.”

“Yeah, in the middle of a mission!” Dick whisper hissed.

“You survived,” Roy shrugged.  “Stop being such a baby.  But I get it.  I’d choose her over me too.  Or you. But if you were going to kill anyone for hurting her, Riddler wouldn’t still be alive… or Bruce.”

Dick pursed his lips at the reminder of how Bruce had treated Marinette, of everything that had come up the night before. His anger quickly deflating.  He looked toward the bathroom, his eyes softening. They really needed to work harder to support her, to assure her they weren’t holding her at arm’s length. Maybe talk to Bruce about telling her the truth.  That seemed like the only possible way to salvage this.  “How does she seem to be doing?”

Roy shrugged and watched the bathroom door to make sure she wouldn’t walk in on the conversation.  “Actually doesn’t seem too bothered by the Riddler incident.  She’s more anxious about the family knowing.” He pursed his lips and picked up a transmission piece, pretending to examine it.  “Bruce hasn’t said anything or made any attempts as far as she knows.”

Dick sighed and massaged his temples.  “That should surprise me more than it does.” He let out a heavy sigh.  “Last night… dinner didn’t… some things came out that Bruce didn’t know.  Things she had to go through.  He’s beating himself up over it.  Too ashamed to talk to her.”

Roy sighed and shook his head.  Bruce was going to lose her before he even had her at this point.  “That have anything to do with why she’s so unaffected by having been taken captive by one of the most dangerous rogues in Gotham?” Dick’s resigned sigh was enough confirmation for him.  “Fuck,” he grumbled.  “She thinks it’s her fault he doesn’t want to bother with her anymore.”

“Damn it,” Dick grumbled, drawing out the words in frustration.  He ran his hand over his face and collapsed on the stool she had been on earlier.  “Good to know.  Thanks.”

Roy nodded and threw the part back on the workbench.  “How’s Jay doing?”

“He’ll be okay.  Tim got there in time to stop him from going too far, but he’s going to need a few hours, maybe the night to let the Pit Madness recede.  And I think he’s really nervous about showing any part of that to Marinette.”

They both snapped their attention to Marinette when she came back.  “My cheek look better?” she turned her cheek for them to see.  “I mean obviously not the cut.”

“Yeah, you look beautiful.”  Roy assured her and handed her purse to her.  

Dick glared at Roy.  “Could you stop hitting on my sister for five seconds?” he hissed low enough for Marinette not to hear.  He turned to Marinette before Roy could respond.  “Ready to go?  I don’t know about you but I’m hungry.”

Marinette rolled her eyes.  “Yeah, yeah, okay.”

Dick walked ahead of her, pretending like he didn’t notice her lag behind. When he was almost out the door, she turned to Roy and gave him a lingering kiss on his cheek.  “Thank you for babysitting me today and for the tour the other day.  I’ve had a lot of fun.”

Roy nodded and handed her his phone with a spot for Fire Flower already started in his contacts.  “If your plans ever get canceled again or you need to hide out or you need to borrow a jacket so you fit in, give me a call, Fire Flower.”

Marinette put her number in and passed it back to him with a grin.  “You have extra you can just loan out?”

Roy grinned back and nodded.  “A few jackets, suit coats, shirts, ties, clean pants, even a few pairs of coveralls, none of which would fit you, but if you ever need them… Or even if you don’t need anything, just want to talk or hang out, let me know.”

“Marinette!  I thought you were ready to go?” Dick yelled.

Marinette shook her head and sighed.  She waved to Roy as she rushed out.  “Thanks again!”

Roy watched her leave until he couldn’t see her anymore.  He let out a deep sigh and collapsed against the workbench. He looked at his phone and quickly sent a text with a smile.

Tags:

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[aetheternity]

Adventures in the Kawata twins

Disclaimer: This takes place during the present when they're all adults. This isn't an x reader persay but reader is mentioned.

Synopsis: Takemichi & Chifuyu are stuck taking care of the drunk Kawata twins. It can't be that hard they'd assumed. Though they fail to understand that the twins are dumped on them for good reason.

☆☆

"Takemichi, you plan on being a designated driver?" Draken asks as Takemichi plops into the seat next to him at their shared table.

"Yeah, I don't feel like drinking tonight." He explained with a shrug.

"Great!" Mikey exclaimed allowing his straw to slip back into the something red he'd been sucking down. "Then you can take care of the Kawata brothers." He pointed to the end of the bar where both brothers sat. Smiley swiveling back in forth in his chair while Angry just glared at all the people. Their eyes lazily hovering over the thick crowd of people.

"They're barely sipping their drinks." Takemichi scoffed

Draken snorted with a deep laugh, "For now." Though he stopped talking when Mikey elbowed him.

"Yeah ok I'll take them home later." Takemichi replied.

"Not just take them home." Mikey grunted, poking his finger out at Takemichi. "You gotta watch them!" He gestured first to Takemichi then back to the two boys at the bar.

"Ok ok sure."

How bad could they possibly get after all? They were never apart as far as Takemichi could see. Even now they were calmly sipping their drinks, Angry's feet swaying back and forth against the side of the bar stool, his face full of frustration as he played with the straw between his lips. Meanwhile Smiley began talking about something random that barely caught his brother's attention his warm smile stretched tightly against his face.

They were calm. This was gonna be fine....

An hour later~

"Where'd they go!!" Takemichi clung to Chifuyu's shoulders like they were his life support shaking the poor man like a doll.

"Well where's the last place you had them?!" Chifuyu screamed back, head darting up over the crowd trying to locate at least one of the missing twins.

"They're not lost remotes!!" Takemichi grunted

A sudden burst of clapping across the bar made Takemichi and Chifuyu whip around. A rhythm slowly forming as drunk onlookers turned to face the same direction. Suddenly a big blue tuff peaked its way over the crowd followed by a fist raising in the air and Angry's full face coming into view.

"Shit." Chifuyu cursed

Takemichi lead the rush through the crowd, Chifuyu right behind him as the two of them made their way closer to one of the rickety tables near the back corner of the bar where Angry was now pointing out into the crowd. A smile almost as big as his brother's plastered onto his face. But it had a much gentler feel to it, almost as if he did it everyday.

"You! You got what I need! Everybody!" Angry belted as he sung into an invisible mic. "But you say he's just a friend!! Now the ladies!"

"And you say he's just a friend!" Reciprocated the crowd.

"Oh God who's he singing about? Name?" Chifuyu scoffed as he held onto Takemichi's hoodie for fear of getting swept away in the crowd.

"Wait? Angry likes, Name?!"

"You must be the most oblivious person in the world to not have noticed. Even I noticed!" Chifuyu yelled over the crowd.

Takemichi sighed reaching out for the wobbly table working to keep it steady as Chifuyu went around the other side tugging at Angry's pant leg.

"And you say he's just a friend, oh baby, you-" Angry continued until Chifuyu finally managed to catch his attention. "Takemichi! Chifuyu! Hi!" He bounced on the table almost causing it to tip.

"Angry come on, let's go find your brother!"

"Ooo yeah!" He giggled like a child.

"Holy shit I didn't even know he was capable of laughing, let alone smiling." Chifuyu blinked shaking his head.

"Catch me ok!" Angry beamed

"Wait Angry!-"

Takemichi's legs folded beneath him as Angry laid on top of him. Surprisingly he wasn't that heavy, though his body weight came out of nowhere and all at once. It left Takemichi with zero breath in his lungs as an uncharacteristic Angry laid on top of him, Chifuyu's smug grin just above him.

"Thanks for the support!" Takemichi groaned in pain. With both hands Chifuyu pulled Takemichi up, helping him support Angry's weight as he wrapped the younger twins legs around his waist.

"Why-" Chifuyu gestured to the current display.

"It'll just be easier."

Angry clung to Takemichi's hoodie like a curious toddler, sticking his fingers beneath the back to play with the tag.

"Come on, we're gonna go find your brother." Takemichi soothingly rubbed Angry's back before turning to Chifuyu.

"And how do you plan on doing that?" Chifuyu asked

The sound of glass shattering a short distance away and the sounds of loud screams and grunts called the attention of almost everyone in the bar. Aside from those too busy making out or puking to see.

"I'd say follow the screaming."

They'd barely arrived on the scene but the crunches of glass underneath their shoes spoke volumes. Smiley's fists repeatedly slamming into a now completely shattered glass mirror. Blood seeping through his damaged knuckles like a punctured water bottle.

Chifuyu immediately slipped his arms under Smiley's armpits. Shaken a bit by the stoned face that stared down at the shattered mirror beneath them.

"Come on Angry we gotta go!"

"That's Smiley! This is Angry!" Takemichi yelped, shifting a distracted Angry around to look at Chifuyu.

"At this point can you blame me?! It's like we fell into an alternate dimension." Chifuyu groaned "Wait is that possible right now?"

"I don't think so!"

"Get off! This cunt is asking for it!" Smiley reached for the only part of the mirror still even slightly assembled. But before he could punch it in Chifuyu slipped an arm around his waist.

"Let's just get out of here before the cops show up!"

Even in disarray Takemichi was pleased at how much easier it had been getting the twins out of the bar then it had been finding them.

"You can still drive a bike right?" Takemichi asked as he reached into Angry's pocket for his keys. He placed a disoriented Angry on the back, trying to push his leg over the side.

"God, your knuckles are wrecked!" Chifuyu gasped astonished. Some of the glass had chipped off while some stayed wedged inside his closed fist.

"It's fine we can remove it when we get them home."

"Hey do you think Name likes that song?" Angry nodded his head, snapping his fingers to an imaginary beat. "I like the bartender, yeah if you're looking for me I'm at the bar with her!" He sung

"I'm sure it'd be just as uncomfortable for Name as it currently is for us." Chifuyu sighed "Come on get on back." He explained to Smiley.

"Fuck you."

Angry fidgeted around behind Takemichi only holding onto his waist when Takemichi physically slid his hands there. His smile deepening as he grinned along to the music he hadn't stopped singing.

After a bit more pleading Smiley plopped onto the back with his arms crossed over his chest. "Ok, now all we need to do is get them home right?" Chifuyu called over the roar of the engine and the sound of Angry still harmonizing with inaudible music.

"Actually.. I told Mikey I'd look after them for the night.."

"I hate you."

"Chifuyu, please! I can't do this without you! Once we put them to bed the rest should be easy right?"

They pulled up to a red light and for the first time tonight Takemichi could hear himself think. Yeah ok, the rest of the night really shouldn't be too difficult. The hard part was getting them out of the bar right?

"Fuck are you looking at shit stain?!" Smiley screamed to a man casually minding his business across the street.

"Angry!" Takemichi screeched

"See you did it too!" Chifuyu pointed

"Shit, I mean-"

"Huh?!" The man called turning to make eye contact with the four people in front of him.

"Can't this light change any fucking faster?!" Chifuyu yelled

"You wanna go bitch!" Smiley called

~~~~

"Smiley, please shut up!" Chifuyu was practically withering. Smiley nearly left off the bike when the man came charging forward.

In that split second the light turned green and Chifuyu sped off with Takemichi trailing just behind. A flood of nervous tears beginning to stain his face.

"You know Mikey set you up right?" Chifuyu grunted as he hauled an agitated Smiley into his and his brother's shared flat.

"I figured after looking up to see them both gone." Takemichi gasped and heaved, shutting the door behind him and Angry.

"I'm making ramen." Smiley announced, staggering off to the living room.

"No no no what you need to do is lay down. This night has been a nightmare." Chifuyu said

"You wanna go fucker." Smiley spat

"Smiley please-" Takemichi tried

"Takemichi, Michi! Look look at my Tiktok dance! You gotta watch!" Angry tugged on Takemichi's jacket sleeve with kid like hops trying to get his attention.

"Just.. I can't right now please we-"

"Why?!" Angry's outburst immediately brought quiet to the flat, the beginnings of tears brimming in the corners of his eyes.

"Shit, don't let him cry!" Chifuyu exclaimed

"Ok! Ok do the dance!"

Angry straightened, smile reappearing fully. He patted the tops of his chest, shaking his hips to nonexistent music. "You need a woman's touch in your place, just protect her and keep her safe." His arm juts out to the words he's singing, "Baby, worship my hips in ways, so feminine with grace."

Takemichi and Chifuyu blink, mouths hung in a small 'O' as they watched the awkward drunk assembly of movements matching terribly with the surprisingly on key singing. Without warning Angry clutched his knees, bile spilling from his body like a sprinkler system.

"You're in charge of Angry then." Chifuyu patted Takemichi's back as Angry continued to unleash on the once clean living room floor. Coughs escaping his drunken body. "I'll take care of.. ah shit! Where'd he go now?!"

"Maybe that's enough dancing for one night." Tiptoeing around the undigested waste Takemichi reached for Angry's arm. "Want some water?" He asked pulling a staggering Angry into the kitchen.

"There's-" Takemichi managed to get him there just in time. Angry's fingers clutching the edges of the kitchen sink as he leaned forward emptying everything in his stomach down the drain with a loud heave.

"Take your time it'll be-"

"Smiley no!" Chifuyu's voice rang across the flat. As well as the sound of multiple fragile items breaking.

What would soon follow in the next minute and a half were, a hard thud, harsh obscenities spewed one after another, and more things breaking only a couple doors away from where Takemichi was massaging Angry's head.

"Chifuyu, what's going on?!"

Chifuyu clattered out of the bathroom stumbling back and forth between both feet. "He punched me in the jaw." His thumb grazed over his jaw inspecting his hands for any sign of blood. "Do the twins have duct tape in here?"

Takemichi grabbed a paper towel dampening it before patting the sides of Angry's lips and the base of his chin where a small amount of his puke was currently leaking down.

"What do you need duct tape for?"

"Don't worry about that."

Chifuyu disappeared with the tape too quickly for further questions to be asked. Angry's smile was barely visible at this point the alcohol potentially flooding out of his system.

"Will you wash my hair Michi?" Angry pleaded with a tiny whimper.

"You should probably rest." Takemichi replied, he turned to fill a glass of water in the sink before handing it to Angry.

"Can I rest in the bathtub?"

"Why're you so violent when you drink?!" Chifuyu yelled

"Here just go to the couch!" Takemichi gestured, pushing a confused Angry back into the living room before bolting down the hall.

"What the- omg!"

"Get me some rope or some shit!" Chifuyu grunted, pulling both of Smiley's hands together.

Smiley laid beneath Chifuyu on his stomach duct tape wrapped around his mouth. His legs kicking around aimlessly as muffled noises slipped from his mouth. The shower curtain covered in blood and laid in a ball on the floor and the pole now bent in the bathtub. The window in the corner smashed in from the inside, pieces of glass littering the white tile.

I'm pretty sure this isn't what Mikey meant when he said take care of the Kawata twins!"

"Well he won't stop struggling! What else am I supposed to do?" Chifuyu gripped the duct tape, pulling it around Smiley's balled fists before ripping it with his teeth.

The sound of glass shattering in the living room brought Takemichi back down to reality. "Ok fine, just don't hurt him and clean his wounds!"

Takemichi rushed back into the living room tripping over his own two feet. His thoughts immediately scattering as he looked over the new situation. Angry's once full cup of water mixed with his vomit on the floor as the glass was now shattered in the growing mess.

"I want water.." Angry said, reaching out to Takemichi.

"Lay still on the couch and I'll bring you a new cup." He sighed

Takemichi dug around for a few seconds in the cupboard grabbing a new glass from the middle shelf. He hadn't noticed before but the Kawata twins had a gorgeous flat. That was slightly more wrecked right now. But it was clean and gorgeous almost to the point where it looked brand new.

He reached for the faucet, positioning it to fill the glass with hot water before turning it upside down to empty the glass. The water splashed against his disheveled black hoodie dampening it a little more than the sweat of this night already had. When he refilled the glass it was with cold water turning the sink top off and walking back over to Angry's kid like wonder stare on the edge of the couch.

"This house has big ceilings." Angry pointed, mouth agape.

"Yup, here." Takemichi transferred the water to Angry's open hands. He got down on one knee untying Angry's shoelaces, slipping his shoes off his feet before placing them next to the head of the couch.

"Wish I lived here." Angry nodded softly, kicking his socked feet as he sipped the cool water in the glass that had been placed in his hands.

"Lay back ok."

A deep "oof" caught Takemichi's attention as he looked to a staggering Chifuyu, pulling Smiley along like a police officer arresting a perp.

"Ok, from this point on I need to be paid." He grunted

"What happened to your face?" Takemichi gestured to the gushing bruise on Chifuyu's forehead. Blood beginning to leak down the sides of his face.

"What do you think happened? He fucking headbutted me." Chifuyu rubbed the blemish with one hand.

For the first time all night Smiley finally tapped out. Collapsing onto the floor in a small ball. One shoe kicked off God knows when. Hair a disorganized tumbleweed atop his head.

"What do you think Name would think of this song?" Angry bounced in his seat spilling water into his lap.

"Oh God please no more singing!" Chifuyu huffed in exasperation.

Takemichi can already see the crease of Angry's eyebrows and the quiver of his bottom lip. "What he means is we'll hear it tomorrow because you need sleep."

A folded blanket laid on the top of the couch and Takemichi reached for it. He shook it out before placing it over Angry's descending shoulders. Slowly the comfort of falling asleep began to rise on Angry's face. Eyelids heavy and face falling into warm ease.

"You promise?" He questioned as he laid his head on the arm rest.

"Yes bright and early tomorrow."

"Night." He whispered and less than a minute later he was fast asleep just like his brother.

For the next couple minutes Takemichi worked to clean the blood off Chifuyu's face, arms and a couple other places.

"Geez he did a number on you."

"On me, on the bathroom, on that mirror in the bar." Chifuyu listed off as Takemichi walked back to the living room leaving him to pat his bruise.

"But you did do a great job bandaging his hands."

"Uh huh."

Takemichi reached up to his face squeezing the bridge of his nose and the lids of his eyes. Chifuyu came up to his side as the blonde gestured to Smiley. "You're not gonna leave him like that are you?"

"You're right we should put a blanket on him." Chifuyu nodded, shaking his finger in front of Takemichi.

"I meant untie him!" Takemichi followed as Chifuyu went into the first available bedroom.

"Fine, once we get them both pills and clean up we can leave."

"Are you insane! Did you forget my bruises? If he wakes up at anytime before the sun and attacks it's your problem." Chifuyu snagged a blanket off the top of the bed slinging it over his shoulder.

"Why didn't we just put them in their beds?" Takemichi groaned

"It's too late they're already asleep just let it go." Chifuyu huffed

Takemichi followed Chifuyu back into the living room. With both hands he opened the blanket fully before letting it lay flat over Smiley's now relaxed figure.

"One you're insane if you think I'm going home. It's almost three am and watching these two for one night has given me nice horror stories to tell Mitsuya next time he talks about his sisters. Two I was dead serious about needing payment especially now if I'm gonna be spending hours cleaning."

~~~~

Morning came sooner than Takemichi would've liked. The sun blared through the window like the worst alarm. He squinted covering his eyes with one hand before shifting on the floor with the blanket he'd pulled from Souya's closet.

Before he could reexperience restful slumber a couple faint knocks had him tossing aside the blanket entirely. Yanking the door open with a low 'what' from the depths of his fatigue.

"Morning to you too." Draken's voice brought him back.

"Heyo Takemichy." Mikey grinned proudly

"How was last night?" Draken asked as Mikey entered the flat ahead of him.

Though the question really didn't need to be verbally answered as the image of Smiley laying on the ground with duct tape over his mouth and a half kicked away blanket revealing his taped up arms. The smell of puke still slightly thick in the hot apartment and the blood all over Chifuyu's jacket spoke louder than words.

Even with sleep still in the midst of Chifuyu's eyes he turned to Mikey and Draken standing behind him.

"Never a fucking gain." He pointed aimlessly, eyelids dashing over his eyes to properly bring the beauty of sight back to him.

Smiley rolled over, or half way over immediately awakening when he realized he was tied up. His head jerked towards Chifuyu with mumbled questions.

"Hold on."

"FUCK!" Smiley's grin was back full force. The edges of his eyebrows twitching, voice echoing through the flat. The unnecessary roughness at which Chifuyu had ripped away the tape showed off some prominent reddening just below his nose.

"Ah!" Angry nearly flew off the couch with the way he sat up immediately falling back into the pillow behind him. Clutching his head with both arms. "Who's being loud." He groaned

"We figured we owed you guys breakfast for taking care of the twins last night." Draken remarked amusement creeping onto his face.

"And this is way less than I was expecting. No cops or anything." Mikey nodded

"What happened to my fists!" Smiley grinned crazily

"Everyone stop talking!" Angry grit

"Take the twins out." Chifuyu said "I'm going home to sleep."

"Ditto to that." Takemichi yawned

[sepia-mahogany]

Prompt: hearing about xuanwus defeat, madam jin and jin zixuan come to lotus pier and overhear madam yu saying wei wuxian should have let the 'sect heirs die', lwj who's recovering also overhears, the 3 get first hand experience of jiang household situation and decide fk this and take wwx out of there, its a prompt from vrishchikawrites blog (a wonderful write!) So maybe ask permission?

From the prompt on @vrishchikawrites

Jin Zixuan could not forget the young man, the head disciple of Yunmeng Jiang, who, despite his previous (petty) grievances with, had stepped up when everyone else had been frozen on the spot, and no matter how hard he tried, he could not get his blood stained image out of his mind. Which had led to this discussion.

“What? No! I forbid it.” his father responded when he asked for sending reinforcements to Jiang Sect, while he understood with Cloud Recesses burnt down, and Nie under attack, either Yunmeng Jiang or Lanling Jin were next on the table, and despite having well equipped men, with the best of weapons, his father refused to extend help. 

Refused to stand against those who sought to harm his son, ‘in situations like these, know when to step back’ he had said, and Jin Zixuan could feel shame creeping up under his skin, outnumbered and clearly at losing stakes, he hadn’t hesitated to save him, and what would that make him if he forgot the debt so clearly owed? To live the lavish life of a coward..! He could see his mother fuming from where she stood, and closed his eyes to suppress his bitter thoughts, he wanted to do something, anything to help.

And suddenly, anger melted from her face and that smile crept up her face and he felt a chill down his spine, a sense of foreboding overcame him, he could see his father tense as well. “Of course, the Jin Sect sides with them.” she spoke, venom dripping off her every word. “Nothing wrong if the Sect Leader’s wife wants the marriage renewed?” a pit formed in his stomach, he did not want to marry a woman he barely knew, but using this opportunity, they could, in a sense create a bond, stronger than of just two sworn sisters.

However, “Madam Jin meets up with her sworn sister, Madam of Jiang Sect, just as Qishan Wen begins its attacks?” the war has been declared, how would it seem if the two sect Madams, and the Sect heirs are meeting, with or without the Sect Leader? “The risks are completely unneeded, what do we gain from this?” his mother glared at his father, who pointedly ignored her, Jin Zixuan exhaled, thinking things over.

As much as he disliked the engagement, he knew she would not bring it up, unless the situation, as dire as it was, needed it, this bond could provide future aid to one another should the need arise, so Jin Zixuan kept his disagreements to himself, because he knew she wouldn’t force him, not with the concerns of a  cold loveless marriage like his parents, he knew she was using it as a cover to aid her sworn sister.

An opportunity, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then remembered how the Second Jade, Lan Wangji had stood shoulder to shoulder with him,  and Wei Wuxian, Head Disciple, had stepped up to save them. 

Jin Zixuan exhaled, and made a decision, muttering out a half-hearted excuse, he left them on their own, and later into the night, he approached his mother.

--------

The boat landed steadily, unnoticed in the middle of the night, his mother had won the final say in the matter, of course with the reluctant agreement of remaining disguised as just another trade ship, the serene view would have been calming, had his nerves not have been high strung from adrenaline, small sacrifices, he could of course find a way to break off the engagement in a future of more peaceful times.

Jin Zixuan climbed out the boat first, followed calmly by his mother, the disguises were near perfect, for the disciples around the brightly lit place to look curious, but not alarmed. One, he recognised seeing a few times at Cloud Recesses, came near them with a nervous smile. “We offer you our sincerest apologies but...we’d appreciate it if travellers could avoid an audience with the Sect Leader?” 

The disguises were perfect then, for they had been mistaken as travellers that would go to and fro from Yunmeng Jiang Sect, his mother sniffed and looked at the disciple sternly “We are not here for the Sect Leader, but the Violet Spider, we have an important message for them.” Jin Zixuan had noticed before but now it had become more apparent as the disciples shifted around, something was off, it dampened his enthusiasm and the rush he had felt earlier, instead concern filled him, had something happened to Wei Wuxian?

His mother held out a token, the disciple’s eyes widened and he bowed in respect, “I assume this would be enough?” Madam Jin said curtly, and the disciple nodded, though tensely. “This one will escort you to the guest chambers” 

The curious gazes had not been moved, as they moved inside, step by step, down the corridor they went, as the muffled voices became more distinguishable, all 3 of them froze when they heard, unmistakably the Jiang Sect Heir’s voice. “-You shouldn’t have played the hero and you shouldn’t have cared for such a hell of a thing. If in the beginning you hadn’t….” 

Jin Zixuan felt a cold pit forming in his stomach, surely he must be mistaken, but seeing the expression twisting  on his mothers face, he could assume he was not, in fact, misunderstanding what Jiang Wanyin was implying. 

The disciple bowed quickly, slightly panicked “If you’d follow me-” Madam Jin pointed at him and he immediately shut up, head bowed, just as the Jiang Sect Leader reprimanded “Jiang Cheng.” Silence followed. “Do you know in which ways what you just have said is not appropriate?” was followed by a glum “Yes.”

Even if slightly, Jin Zixuan relaxed, his mother’s expression lightening into a frown, ‘at least someone is self-aware’ Madam Jin thought. “He’s just angry and speaking without care” another voice added, Jin Zixuan perked up, Wei Wuxian! So he was alright, he felt relieved. Madam Jin continued to frown, Wei Wuxian was clearly trying to lessen the pressure off of the Jiang heir. 

Another harsh voice cut through them all “Yes, he doesn’t understand but what does it matter, as long as Wei Ying understands!?” rang out her voice, Madam Jin’s lips pursed into a line, of what her son had just said, that was what she was focusing on?

 “‘To attempt at the impossible’ is exactly how he is, isn’t it? Fooling around even though he knew it’d bring trouble to his sect!?” Jin Zixuan sneaked a look at his mother to see her eyes cold, her fist clenched tightly, he was aware they shouldn’t be hearing this, but this? It wasn’t what they expected at all, he was frozen in place, what in the world was he hearing?

Madam Jin’s thoughts matched her appearance, for once she felt less than charitable towards Yu Ziyuan, and more and more like a fool, here she was, risking her and her son’s safety, her sects safety, for a woman who couldn't care less about her son’s life, but was also wilfully blinding herself to the war right on the horizon, ‘No’ she thought to herself, ‘it was I who was truly blind’

And it was the boy she heard being called ‘Fengmian’s bastard’ or ‘son of a servant’ who had saved her son's life instead, she bit back the bitter chuckle that threatened to escape her, truly, what a fool she was, to be caught in the violet spiders web.

She looked at her son, whose face clouded over the more he heard, she grabbed his arm tightly, if nothing else then to prevent him from barging inside, with Jiang Fengmian’s favor, she was sure that they didn’t need to interfere, until, “My lady, what are you doing here?” she held back her disbelief, her son on the other hand, inhaled sharply.

This was what he was focusing on? Not the insults to his bas- to his ward? To his sect’s entire foundation? It would seem she was truly mistaken, in her and Yu Ziyuan sharing their miseries, entirely wrong about her character, and who was still throwing around callous words for the sake of it, for what else? If not her own cruelty?

"What am I doing here? What a joke that I am asked of such a thing! Sect Leader Jiang, do you still remember that I'm also the leader of Lotus Pier? Do you still remember that every inch of the earth here is my territory? Do you still remember, between the one lying there and the one standing there, which one is your son?" Disbelief and disgust couldn’t even begin to describe what Madam Jin was feeling, the Sect Leader’s response,  however, “I do remember.” Enhanced those to the heights she didn't even know she was capable of feeling.

And so stood the enraged Madam of Jin Sect, the horrified Jin heir and one ashamed disciple whose head could bow no lower, but that was nothing compared to what was said next “You do remember, but there's no use if you simply remember. Wei Ying, he really can't take it unless he stirs up some trouble, can he? If I had known, I would've made him stay in Lotus Pier properly and not go outside. Could Wen Chao really have dared to do anything to the two young masters of the GusuLan Sect and Lanling Jin Sect? Even if he did, it'd mean that they ran out of luck. Since when was it your turn to play the hero?"

Blood roared in Madam Jin’s ears, her nails digging into her palm, she wanted to bite Yu Ziyuan’s head off there and then. ‘Of all the idiotic, foolish, horrid, things she could utter-’ in her cursing, she only realised she had put too much force in her rage filled haze when her son hissed in pain, she immediately let go of his arm, and pinched the bridge of her nose, taking calming breaths.

She was afraid she would do something terrible and irrevocable if she stayed there any longer, listening to a pathetic mockery of- she exhaled and pushed Jin Zixuan towards the open doors. “B-but mother-” he looked back but she gave him that look and he quietened “Later a-Xuan.” while moving outwards, the disciple trailing behind them, they could easily catch some of the words the woman threw at Wei Wuxian.

Madam Jin gritted her teeth in anger, and left without looking back, once she and her son were seated in the boat. “A-Xuan” she began, lightly ruffling his hair “Your marriage is up to you to decide, I will have no say in the matter from here onwards” Her son was not going to be married into that cursed Sect no matter what if she could help it, she moved forward to pull him into a hug, “Mother was wrong.”

 “But mother what about..?” She heard him say, she pulled back and rest one hand on his shoulder, the other caressing his cheek, her son, who by the Jiang’s standards, should’ve been killed, and her blood boiled in her veins. “We came here to make a bond and talk if it were possible, since that wasn’t possible, it can be done some other day.” She lightly patted him, and seeing his thoughts drift off, thought to herself darkly ‘and if the Jiangs are attacked, well, they ran out of luck then.’

Her son hesitantly nodded, “Wei Wuxian...I owe him, for saving me then, if not for him.....” She sniffed, as if indicating what was obvious “Of course,” When the news spread later that Lotus Pier was attacked, with Jiang Wanyin and Wei Wuxian on the run, she hoped for Wei Wuxian’s survival, more so than the Jiang Sect Heir.

And if, perhaps, after a few years her son proposed sworn brotherhood with that Wei Wuxian, well, it wasn’t without her approval.

----------------------------

authors notes i guess?

Okay so writing Madam Yu’s lines legit left me disgusted like wtf was she even saying?? Also like I tried to write Madam Jin similar but a bit less than Madam Yu (ya know madam jin never whipped kids with her spiritual weapons, if she had any, not to our knowledge at least...right?) but ended up venturing straight into slightly dark madam jin heh, also like no engagement, no jin-wei tense relationship, (there’ll be 1-2 parts more probably) also wwx woke up earlier in this one, this’ll serve as catalyst for later years. 

[souluble]

✿ Scenarios ✿

Part 1: Nobara Kugisaki / Itadori Yuji / Fushiguro Megumi / Inumaki Toge / Zenin Maki / Okkotsu Yuuta // (Next Part)

✿ Things they do in a relationship to show appreciation

Nobara Kugisaki

✿ Nobara likes to take you with her every time she visits a bakery, it means a lot that your by her side in case she finds Saori.

✿ A wide grin stretched across Nobaras face as she swung your interlocked hands back and forth. The two of you had snuck off during training to grab snacks for everyone and Nobara insisted you guys take the walk to a new bakery that opened.

“Imagine Saori-chan is there, I’m sure she’d love you” a bashful expression found itself taking over her features as she mumbled the last part.

You knew how much Nobara enjoyed looking for Saori, and not only did she get to search for an old friend but she got to make memories with you along the way. She learned your favorite pasteries and how while you may like some smoothies the others leave a bad aftertaste in your mouth.

It became a routine for the both of you, Nobara excitedly dragging you off campus to go to different pastry shops and pick up an abundance of baked goods for the others. It did get tiresome from time to time yet the childish glint in her eyes made it all worth it when she would look at you with adoration in her honey eyes.

Itadori Yuji

✿ Itadori has a playlist of all your favorite songs saved in his phone along with a list of your favorite orders from different restaurants.

✿ Scrolling through the mess that was Itadoris phone you searched through clustered apps in search for the music icon. One earbud hung loosely in your ear as you rested your head on Itadoris shoulder while he plugged the other earbud into his ear.

Watching you swipe mindlessly through his phone Itadori took the device from your hands and found the app with ease as he opened it up to be greated with an array of oddly named playlists. He clicked on the third one and you watched with curious eyes to see your name on the title. A collection of your favorite songs.

You couldn’t even remember telling him you liked half of the songs on the playlist yet he seemed to find out on his own. He was perceptive you’ll give him that.

“You like this song right? I heard you humming it a couple days ago”

The thought made your heart warm, Itadori had purposefully searched for some measly song you had stuck in your head just to put it into a playlist dedicated for you. He truly was something else.

Fushiguro Megumi

✿ Fushiguro leaves love notes by your bed every morning so you can wake up with a smile, he prefers this over text so you don't strain your eyes.

✿ Pushing softly against the door and treading lightly Fushiguro made his way to your bedside, the light peeking through the window making you look ethereal. A rare smile gracing his lips as he pushed a loose strand of hair to the side to get a closer look at your resting festures.

Slipping the pen from his pocket he wrote a messy ‘good morning’ and even measier ‘I love you’ as his hand shook from nervousness of getting caught. Folding the smudged paper into a neat square Fushiguro placed a gentle kiss to your forehead before pulling the blanket up more to envelop you in warmth.

Taking light steps back out of the room he stood in the door way for a minute that felt like forever, the quiet ticking of the clock echoing off the walls. Shoving his hands into his pockets Fushiguro slowly closed the door before walking down the hall with a warm feeling in his chest.

Inumaki Toge

✿ Inumaki has your voice memorized and can always pick you out in a crowd, he can read you like an open book and takes pride in that.

✿ With interlocked pinkies you let Inumaki guide you through the bustling streets of Tokyo, the crowd pushing you left and right as you tried to stick to his side. A particularly hard shove by a businesswomen had you releasing your grip as the crowd pushed you backwards.

Turning your head every which way you searched the crowd for off-white hair “Toge!” a simple shout had lavender eyes scanning the area as he honed in on the sound of your voice.

With furrowed eyebrows Inumaki pushed through the sea of people until he was able to link his arm around your shoulder and have you in his grasp once more. Sparing a glance you let your eyes met his, you sent a smile in his direction to assure Inumaki you were fine. A huff left his masked lips as he pulled you closer into his side. He would make sure to keep you in close proximity this time.

Zenin Maki

✿ Maki always insists to go with you whenever you have a day off, she can’t stand the thought of something bad happening to you.

✿ On the rare occasion you had a day off you made sure to spend it in the city to get away from that stuffy school and the harsh reality of curses. If you were lucky enough then Maki would have her off day overlap with yous and the two of you would plan a date in the city.

Sadly this was not on of those lucky occasions as Maki was assigned a mission, she had wished you a farewell with a shy kiss to the cheek before taking off. Knowing she’d most like be busy the rest of the day you spared a quick text telling her you’d be out and about.

What you didn’t expect was your lover showing up at your favorite cafe, her hair frizzy and matted, clothes wrinkled and stained with blood. “Maki!” a surprised gasp leaving your lip at the sight.

“I finished my mission early so now we can spend the rest of the day together”

Your cheeks heated at her statement, she had rushed the mission and made a mess of usual professional appearance just to make her way to you quicker. Maki really did care for you more than you’d ever know.

Okkotsu Yuuta

✿ Yuuta has a matching set of rings for the both of you, he wants you to know that your just as important to him as Rika.

✿ A shy smile appeared on Yuutas face as his finger shook, nervousness filling his senses as he held a shaky hand to his chest. He knew this was for the best, Rika wouldn’t want him sitting around and waiting for them to meet once more. You were the one person Rika had never wanted to hurt, she knew how dear you were to Yuuta and that it was of the upmost importance that Yuuta stop blaming himself for her shortcomings.

Taking a sharp breath he walked to your dorm and knocked lightly on the door, a faint ‘come in’ had him glancing around the hall, the brief though of turning around and walking away crossed his mind. Pushing the door open Yuuta watched as you looked at him with such a loving gaze it had his storm of nerves turning into tranquil waters.

Pushing a small blue box into your hands Yuuta watched with clammy palms as your lips parted into an ‘O’ shape and a blush rose to your cheeks. A wide smile appeared on your face as you slipped the silver band onto your pointer finger. Reaching out to grasp your hand only then did you notice the matching ring he wore on his hand.

No words were exchanged as tears pooled into both your eyes, pulling you into his embrace Yuuta let out a happy laugh at your emotional state. By no means was this a proposal, yet the fact that he was willing to devote himself to you was enough to make you tear up.

[mostlycompetentwriter]

Hi hello! So pleased to hear your requests are open! Can I please request for a marriage au mafia style where the reader gets hurt or assaulted by the rival gang in front of him and due to being restraint he can't get to her and he cries and begs for her stop. Then thankfully Chan and the others come to the rescue and you want nothing more than to be in chnagbins arms. Maybe a lot of angst and fluff afterwards too. Can't wait to see what you come up with 💕

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Changbin

Warnings: Mention of violence and blood; cursing and language; lots of angst and some fluff at the end; mature content

Genre: Mafia AU; Established Relationship

Where are you?

It feels like a dream. The very strange sensation of that in-between state because you were incapable of distinguishing consciousness from something less than. 

Am I alive?

You must be, aware of the sensation of cold, shivers running down your spine, raising little bumps across your arms...

“Princess!”

What? Did you hear that?

“Y/N!” the voice came again. More urgently this time.

You realized then, with the grounding agency of that sound, that your eyes were closed, but it was a struggle to open them, slowly coming back from whatever had sucked you down, wincing at the dull pain in your head.

“Y/N,” the voice sighed this time. Like it was relieved to see you cognizant. “Tell me you’re okay, love.”

Love?

It hit you at that moment, the sound of the voice. One you could recognize no matter the degree of darkness holding you under, and you managed to open your eyes enough to meet Changbin’s gaze from across the room. 

“Changbin?” you questioned. Or, at least, you thought you said his name. You couldn’t be sure since the sounds around you made it seem like your head was underneath water, distorting everything, and the roof of your mouth was dry and tasteless.

“That’s right, love,” Changbin said, and you struggled to keep him in your line of vision, watching his form swim and dance in strange directions.

“I don’t feel good,” you admitted, hearing what might’ve been a sharp intake of breath.

“Where does it hurt?” Changbin asked, and you frowned at how difficult the question was since you weren’t sure how to answer it.

There was too much numbness, and you were far more concerned with restoring your senses, slowly feeling your ears open back up and the things surrounding you come into focus.

Meanwhile, Changbin was still talking. “I’ll kill them all,” he growled. “This was never supposed to happen.”

Them? you thought to yourself vacantly, gingerly turning around as much as your bindings would allow, realizing only after a brief relapse of confusion that your hands and legs were tied to the metal chair you sat on. 

“Where are we?” you asked, finding your voice amidst everything else.

“I’m not sure,” Changbin whispered, and he suddenly sat upright in his chair, eyes narrowing and features taking on that practiced hardening that you associated with your husband at his most dangerous.

But a Changbin bound and tied by seemingly impossible to escape restraints didn’t exactly scream power to you. In fact, it seemed more like a power imbalance, and you were left reeling for answers when the sound of a distant door opening and then closing filled the space between you both.

“I see you’re awake now,” an unfamiliar figure announced, voice slightly accented. He walked with an arrogant swagger, matching the exaggerated steps he took and the smirk he wore on his grizzled features. “We’ve been waiting.”

“Don’t touch her!” Changbin snapped, jerking against his restraints as the veins in his neck visibly popped in response to his obvious anger and frustration. 

“Who? The girl?” the man asked with a lazy gesturing towards you. “Then you’ll give us answers, no?”

“What do you want?” Changbin asked, and you noted how his fingers were clenched tightly against the arm rests attached to his chair.

“The new shipment of weapons,” the man said. “Your men took them from us the other night. Came in and shot my best sniper.”

Changbin sighed, clearly frustrated. “They were originally assigned to us.”

“But then we made a better deal!” the man growled. “It was my name on that contract, and you had no right to interfere.”

“Says who?” Changbin asked, fishing for more information.

“I can’t tell you that,” the man replied. “I’m only the messenger.”

“You act like it’s more than that.”

“Oh?” the man smirked. “Well, I am a big deal.”

Changbin glowered at the arrogance. “I don’t lead the organization.”

“I know, but you’re an important player,” the man continued. “And your name was everywhere when I started investigating.”

“The weapons were a necessary exchange,” Changbin argued.

“But they were ours!” the man declared passionately, and Changbin knew better than to try to argue with someone so overzealous.

“Fine,” Changbin huffed. “I’ll have my men restore the weapons.”

“Wonderful,” the man sighed, tucking his hands into his pocket. “There is one more thing, though.”

“One more?” Changbin snorted.

“I know of your importance, Mr. Seo,” the man said. “I assume that you’re someone in possession of good information.”

“Like what?”

“Like that little bar you opened downtown,” the man continued, taking another step closer. 

You froze when he pulled a knife from his pocket, studying the way the light reflected off the harsh metal. “What about it?” Changbin grumbled, eyes focused on the obvious danger in the room.

“I’m curious about its sudden success,” he said, and you shivered when he started circling your chair. “Seems like something is missing.”

“Just good business,” Changbin said, but you could tell he was trying to get one step ahead of the guy - discerning the meaning of this unexpected conversation.

“Or, you figured out how to delegitimize the competition,” the man harshly exhaled, and you whimpered when you felt the cold blade of the knife tease the sensitive skin of your neck. 

Changbin sat up just a little higher, biceps flexing against his restraints. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Obviously,” the man hissed, digging the blade just enough to draw a tiny pinprick of blood. “You’ve sent your men undercover to spy on my business! To spread rumors and lies and turn my clientele away!”

Changbin chuckled at the outrageous claim, but it was devoid of any humor. “You probably fucked your business over yourself.”

“Do you think I’m a fool?” the man growled, searing metal against flesh. “I know men like you, Mr. Seo, and I’m willing to bet that you’ve played a bigger part than what you’ve let on.”

“I have better things to do than fuck with some second rate booze club,” Changbin growled. “We’ve got clubs all over downtown. They’ve all been successful, and it has nothing to do with sending off the competition.”

Changbin smirked then, something harsh and mocking. “Maybe you’re just a really bad businessman.”

But it was the wrong thing to say, and you withheld a scream of terror when the man suddenly wrapped biting fingers into your hair. “You want to save your cocksleeve?” he growled, gripping even tighter to your aching scalp and wrenching your head back to expose your throat and the small laceration he had left there on the smooth skin. A puddle of red amidst the rest. “Tell me why you did it!”

“I can’t!” Changbin snarled in return. “My guys never stepped foot in your territory.”

“LIES!” the man roared, and you were teetering precariously in your chair, back legs lifted from the safety of the floor.

“If you hurt her,” Changbin said, and his tone was staggered and weak. “I will make sure you suffer a thousand times worse.”

The man laughed, incredulous as he looked around the room. “And what do you plan to do about it?”

Silent tears fell down your glistening cheeks as you felt the man’s warm breath against the side of your face. “Maybe violence isn’t enough for you. Maybe I need to get what I need by other means.��

Your stomach dropped at the guttural tone, trying to meet Changbin’s eyes from across the room. “You’ve been warned,” Changbin said. “The grave you’ve dug for yourself is deep enough.”

“Oh?” the man laughed. “Well, since you think you’re in such control here, let me remind of you of the reality of the situation...”

“Changbin!” you cried when you were abruptly lifted from your chair, knife cutting through the ropes binding you, sending you colliding back against the solid mass of an unfamiliar form, loose hands roaming across your torso. 

“Stop!”

Changbin’s voice was just veering on the edge of desperate, recognizing that you were in no position for him to sound anything less than serious. 

“Stop?” your captor repeated in a mocking tone, and you felt the blade of the knife return to your throat, slicing down harder and finally triggering the hair-raising scream that you had been suppressing. Trying to be brave for Changbin.

“You can’t do this!” Changbin cried, and you were amazed to see the faint rivulet of a tear stain - the mark of weakness that your husband tried so hard to suppress in this violent line of work.

If you thought about it, there were only a handful of times that you had ever seen Changbin cry.

“I’ll do anything,” Changbin whispered. “I’ll even take her place! Just don’t hurt her anymore.”

“Hmmm?” Your captor relinquished his threatening attack, and you could breath a little easier when he turned his attention back to Changbin.“What if I offer you a compromise? Tell me how you’ve managed your business affairs, and I won’t kill your little plaything.”

Changbin inhaled sharply, gaze full of a sinister rage you knew was reserved for his greatest enemies. “You’ll be screaming for a death of your own by the time I’m done with you.”

“You still don’t understand,” the man sighed, and you gasped when chapped lips brushed against your cheek. “Maybe I’ll fuck her first...”

“You won’t have the time.”

“Says who...”

He trailed off then. The last words you ever heard from your captor before an enormous explosion interrupted the tension, walls and floors shaking as dust and debris fell from the ceiling overhead.

You could feel the body behind you trembling as well, but you knew that it wasn’t from the explosion. It was from fear, and in a split second of panic, the man shoved you to the ground, and you yelped when your head collided hard against the concrete. 

You attempted to pull yourself back up, but there was something numbing and weighty keeping you on the floor, darkness swimming threateningly in front of your eyes once again.

There were familiar sounds: the sharp click of a gun, the whizzing of bullets flying overhead, and the cacophony of screams and yells.

The pain was keeping you from focusing, aware of vague figures passing in and out of your periphery, running and moving in all sorts of directions. It was chaos at its finest, and you were incapable of comprehending any of it. Instead, you could only focus on two things: the pounding of your pulse against your eardrums and the intermingled buzzing of familiar tones.

There was a hand on your shoulder, but you were incapable of responding to their call, succumbing to an irrefutable and dreamless sleep.

The first thing you noticed when you were capable of understanding your surroundings, was the silky fabric of the bed sheets.

They were smooth to the touch and you flexed your fingers around them, humming in contentment when you silted open your eyes just enough to confirm that they belonged to you and Changbin. The ones you used on the King-sized bed in your shared room.

But therein lay the problem: you were alone in the bed, and the only voices you could hear certainly didn’t match the same tone of your husband.

You swallowed hard, flinching when the motion brought attention to the thick bandage around your neck, and upon touching the material, you were bombarded with a barrage of images reminding you of everything that had happened the previous night. 

It was enough to leave you shaking, seeking some form of comfort as you roused your body just enough to turn around to the sound of those voices, recognizing Chan, your husband’s boss, and Seungmin, the residential healer.

“Chan?” you groaned, grimacing at the dryness in your mouth.

“Y/N,” he acknowledged you, rushing over to your bedside in an instant. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay,” you said, watching as he lifted a bottle of water to hand to you.

“Drink this.”

You nodded, taking it from him. “Where’s Changbin?”

The question was met with silence, and you frowned when Chan and Seungmin exchanged quick glances. “Well, if nothing hurts, then I have other appointments,” Seungmin said, hurriedly dismissing himself from the room.

“Coward,” Chan muttered, but he was nothing but smiles for you, coming to sit down at your bedside. “Changbin...he’s busy.”

The answer wasn’t satisfactory, and your heart started beating a little faster. “Where?”

“Downstairs,” he said, and you knew exactly what that meant. 

“He brought him here?” you muttered, hating the idea of having someone like that under the same roof you called home. 

“Changbin insisted,” Chan replied, and you realized that he disapproved as well, but it still didn’t help your tender sensibilities, and you were ready to implode from the inside because you needed Changbin’s comfort.

“I need him,” you said, fixing Chan with a stern look. “Can you ask him to come up here?”

“He won’t be convinced until he’s done,” Chan said, but his gaze was soft as he leaned in closer. “I can help, if you’d like.”

It was a nice gesture, and normally you might take him up on an offer of comfort, but Chan wasn’t going to heal the turmoil bubbling inside of you.

The emotions burst forth, and your eyes had already glossed over from tears shedding themselves like dead leaves falling from a tree in the middle of a windstorm. “I just want Changbin,” you sobbed, and Chan was barely perceivable through the mess of your tears. 

You could tell Chan was upset by your dismissal, even as his fingers tried to brush away the wetness dotting your cheeks. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” he said, and it spoke to a history between the two of you that often when unsaid.

You had been given to Chan, your organization’s leader, as a peace offering from a rival mafia group. It was a cruel trade, and you resisted as much as you could, especially since, at first, you were meant to be his betrothed.

And you came into the Miroh Group with a determination to resist them to the very end.

Until Changbin stole your heart.

From there, you couldn’t believe that you had gotten so lucky, falling in love whole-heartedly, capable of forgiving Changbin’s worst sins.

Including his more sadistic tendencies.

“You can try to see him,” Chan said, seemingly satisfied after wiping away most of the evidence of your internal breakdown.

You nodded immediately, even though you understood that what you might find downstairs wouldn’t be anything comforting.

You felt a little unsteady on your feet, even with Chan helping you down the concrete steps descending into a place you tended to avoid.

The smell of alcohol and blood were both overwhelming, and you stumbled on the final step, rearing back at the sound of a truly gruesome gurgle that reminded you too much of drowning. 

In the middle of the room you managed to make out Changbin, wearing dark pants and a white t-shirt, allowing you to see all the blood painting the texture in ugly patterns.

But then your attention wandered over to the poor soul strapped to the chair, barely recognizable because of the damage caused by your husband, the one who was gaping at you while holding a knife in one hand and scissors in the other.

"Y/N,” Changbin whispered. “Why aren’t you resting?”

You shook your head, looking past the gruesome, mangled damage to see the pained expression of your former captor. 

Changbin had made good on his threat to tear the asshole apart, and your stomach rolled at the awful display of violence.

Done at the hands of the man who made the sweetest love to you in the dark recesses of your bedroom.

Still, you craved his presence, falling into his open arms as he held you close after tossing aside his tools. “Shhh,” he whispered to calm your tears.

“You weren’t there when I woke up,” you sniffled.

“I’m sorry, love,” Changbin said, soothing your cries with soft cooing. 

You savored his closeness, tucking your chin over his shoulder and opening your eyes to look upon the decrepit appearance of your former captor. “What are you doing to him?” you asked, and you felt Changbin sigh as he pulled back from you.

“I know you don’t approve, love,” Changbin said, and he glanced down at his ruined t-shirt and jeans, drenched in blood. 

Under most circumstances, you would agree, but you felt your hand jumping to your throat, wrapping around the bandage covering your wound. 

Changbin frowned at the movement, likely remembering the events that led to your injuries. “Kill him,” you said, and both Changbin and Chan seemed taken aback by your response. It was completely out of character, coming from someone who often disapproved of the murderous part of their work. 

“Y/N,” Chan whispered, and you could see that he wore wariness on top of his horrified expression.

“Come upstairs soon,” you said, squeezing Changbin’s hand with your own. “I need you.”

Your husband nodded, looking at you with something akin to awe as you left the downstairs basement with Chan hot on your heels and torturous screams assaulting your ears. 

Chan only left your bedroom once Changbin arrived, showered and clean, wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt. 

“Careful,” Chan whispered to him on the way out, and you shivered.

But there was nothing that could warm you up more than Changbin, and you even managed a smile when he climbed into the bed behind you, wrapping a strong arm around your waist to pull you closer. “Hi, princess,” he whispered, and you felt like bathing in the sensual tone of his voice.

“Changbin,” you sighed in return, turning around so that you could face him.

“It doesn’t hurt too much, does it love?” he asked, reaching out to tenderly stroke his fingers across your bandages. 

“Not anymore,” you said. “Seungmin did a good job.”

“He better,” Changbin rumbled, and you tried not to roll your eyes at your husband. 

“I was really upset earlier,” you said. “When I couldn’t find you.”

“That’s my fault, princess,” Changbin said. “I didn’t know you would wake-up so soon....and there were things I needed to take care of.”

You sighed, closing your eyes hard against a distant image of your mind conjuring the bloodied and ruined form of your captor. “Did you find out who he belonged to?”

“Yeah, a small organization under Park,” Changbin said. “He was more than willing to talk after I took one of his fingers.”

Your heart twisted at his nonchalant tone. “I guess you silenced him.”

Changbin hesitated, pausing to look at you with concern. “Are you mad at me?”

“Just...disappointed,” you said. “I couldn’t hold myself together.”

“It would’ve torn me apart,” Changbin replied. “If I let him go without making him suffer for touching my princess.”

You closed your eyes, feeling Changbin trail his fingers across your arm. “But you’re here now?”

“Of course,” Changbin agreed, leaning in to kiss you gently. “I’m yours, love. For as long as you need me to hold you.”

“Might be all night,” you said, moving up to kiss under his jaw. “I need you in a lot of ways.”

Changbin chuckled at your implications, leaving nothing to be imagined as you grazed one finger over the front of his sweatpants where his cock lay flaccid. He titled your chin at a better angle, a glaze of lust darkening his eyes. “When you feel better,” he purred. “I’ll take care of your little pussy.”

You shook at his seductive promise, curling even closer to him as Changbin’s thudding heart lulled you into a comfortable peace.

[wolveria]

Inside Your Wires - Chapter 1

Pairing: Human!Connor x Android!Reader

Summary: Assigned all cases involving android-related crimes, saddled with a prototype that follows him around like a plastic puppy, Detective Connor Anderson knows this must be karma for all the bad shit he’s ever done.

He thought he'd hit rock bottom, that he didn't have much left to lose, but he's proven wrong by the android sent by CyberLife. And Connor learns just how much further he can fall.

Prompt: For the @dbhau-bigbang​ 2020 challenge!

Series Warnings (18+ only): Eventual smut, slow burn, fantasy bigotry, violence, brief noncon elements, angst with a happy ending

AO3

(Story moodboard by @uh-kitty-got-wet​​)

November 5th, 2038

Friday 11:21PM

The whiskey was harsh and burned like liquid fire as it slid down his throat. He dropped the shot glass onto the bar top and closed his eyes and savored the bloom of the cheap booze warming his chest. The music from the old jukebox behind him belted out tunes that would have been considered outdated when the place opened.

It was like this most nights. He was alone, exhausted, and well on his way to a pleasant buzz. The one thing Connor had going for him was that he hadn’t started in on his third drink until 11 PM.

That had to be some kind of record. On a Friday night, he was usually shitfaced by 10. Call it the long hours he’d been working, or maybe the fact he felt more self-loathing than usual, he’d somehow managed to hold off on spiraling until nearly midnight.

Definitely a record. And Connor deserved to celebrate.

When he tipped the glass with one finger and caught Jimmy’s eye, he nearly looked away in shame. The bartender had never given him shit before, at least in a verbal sense, but the cool stare he gave Connor now made him want to crawl into a hole and die there.

But Jimmy didn’t say a word, just gave him another dose of poison and turned away, leaving Connor in relative peace to enjoy the game. Denton Carter was kicking ass tonight, so at least there was that.

It was all going beautifully until the door opened and the sound of rain echoed throughout the tiny bar, along with a distinct smell of wet asphalt and dirty concrete. Out of the corner of his eye, Connor saw two of the other regulars shift in their seats to stare at the newcomer.

Not another regular, then. And by how lengthy the stares were and the sudden shift in atmosphere, Connor guessed the barometric pressure had taken a drop due to a pair of long legs and pretty eyes.

Turning his body only far enough to get a glance for himself, Connor was not disappointed, eyeing the stranger from their black dress shoes, up their shapely legs clad in dark jeans, past curvy hips and—

Oh.

Connor turned back in his seat, hunched over and grimacing in disgust, put there by the sight of a blue triangle on a lapel and a glowing armband around one arm. He hadn’t even needed to look higher for the LED to know what the fuck had just waltzed into the joint like it actually belonged there.

He nursed his whiskey, praying the thing would pass him by and leave him the fuck alone. Or better yet, Jimmy would throw it out.

No such luck, of course.

“Detective Anderson,” spoke a smooth, raspy voice to his right. “I’m the YN800 model sent by CyberLife.”

He elected to ignore it. Maybe if he did so for long enough, it would take the hint and go away.

Again, Connor’s luck was not holding out.

“I called your cell phone, but you didn’t answer,” the voice continued, unimpeded. “I then looked for you at the station after checking your home, but you weren’t there either. Your colleagues indicated you tended to frequent the bars in the area, and I was fortunate to find you at the fifth one.”

His eye twitched. This thing had gone to his apartment?

“Well, here I am,” he answered, dry and caustic as he stared straight ahead at the wall of bottles. He calculated how angry Jimmy would be if he took out his service pistol and shot it through the head.

Pretty angry, Connor decided. It would probably leave a stain. Also, he didn’t want to compensate some asshole company for property damage.

“What do you want?” he finally growled, scratching his nail into the bar top already marred with various scuffs and dings.

“You were assigned a case earlier this evening. A homicide.”

Already, a headache was forming between the eyes at the sound of the android’s irritatingly friendly voice.

“Yeah, and?”

“It involved a CyberLife android,” it said in that same smooth inflection. “In accordance with procedure, the company has allocated a specialized model to assist investigators.”

You have to be shitting me.

Connor grit his teeth and clenched his glass tighter, a flush of heat moving through him that had nothing to do with his blood alcohol content. A fucking android was sent to help cops do their job?

Fuck that, and fuck this hunk of junk.

“Good for them,” he answered as he tipped the glass up to his lips. “I couldn’t give less of a shit. Now get the fuck out of my face. We don’t need any help, especially from a plastic pair of tits like you.”

He should have known that wasn’t the end of it. The android spoke again, adopting a tone of what it had probably been programmed as “sympathetic.”

“I understand you may be experiencing reluctance to having an android’s assistance in this matter, but I am—“

“—ruining a perfectly good evening, butting your nose where it doesn’t belong and sure as fuck isn’t welcome.”

Connor put his glass down harder on the bar top than he meant to, nearly spilling his drink.

“I suggest you leave before I void your warranty.”

Connor thought the machine got the message when it finally went silent. He could even see its mood ring spinning yellow out of the corner of his eye before it settled on that annoying placid blue.

He’d just brought the glass halfway to his lips when it said, “I’m sorry, Detective, but I must insist.”

Connor set the glass back down and started to count to ten. He couldn’t lose it now, he’d promised Jimmy he wouldn’t break anything else after the last brawl he’d gotten into.

But the fucking thing just kept on talking.

“My instructions stipulate that I have to accompany you.”

“You know where you can stick your instructions?” Connor growled before downing the glass of whiskey.

It was a good thing he had, because its next words made him choke on spit.

“No. Where?”

Connor set the glass down, and for the first time that evening, fully turned toward the android and stared at it.

The damn thing was staring back, head slightly tilted like a curious puppy. It had large eyes to match the image too, earnest and innocent and entirely too sincere. Its attire at second glance wasn’t the typical android faire. A smooth grey android jacket and a dark, patterned tie marked it as something different. Unique.

And just a little too pretty. Every designed, group-focused imperfection on its face made it that much more appealing. Its hair was neatly coifed, pulled up and pinned behind its head, exposing the smooth curve of its neck.

Hanging down the left side of its face was a strategically-placed lock of hair that Connor immediately want to twirl his finger around. He suspected that was the point.

The further down Connor’s eyes traveled, the more he lost his train of thought. The perfectly sensible tie was lying on the slope of its breasts, something even the jacket couldn’t cover. Why the fuck androids had breasts to begin with, Connor couldn’t begin to fathom, and it seemed even more ludicrous now seeing them on a “specialized model.”

The android hadn’t moved apart from its artificial breathing, another thing about the machines that was uncanny. They weren’t human, and the fact CyberLife kept trying to pass them off as such was a goddamn insult to humanity.

He met the thing’s eye, gave an unimpressed huff, and went back to nursing his drink. If the fucking tin can didn’t understand a dirty innuendo, he certainly wasn’t going to ruin its pristine, virginal programming.

Connor doubted everything that had just gone through his head as those unnecessarily realistic tits were pressed against his elbow, without warning or any sense of decency or a concept of personal space.

“How about this, Detective?”

Connor fumbled, nearly spilling his drink, a massive what the fuck! warning flashing in his head as the machine pressed closer.

“I’ll buy you another drink, on the house. Surely that’s worth a few minutes of your time? And if not, you can send me on my way.”

Connor couldn’t speak with that voice right into his ear like a close confidant, sultry and low and borderline pornographic, so it was a good thing the android didn’t bother waiting for a response.

Instead, it turned to Jimmy and said in a louder, more normal tone, “Bartender, another round for the detective, please.”

Jimmy turned from where he was cleaning glasses on the counter, eyebrows shooting upward as he looked from the machine to Connor. It had backed up a few inches, but there were a lot of reflective bottles on the wall. Connor wondered just how much Jimmy had seen.

Connor gave a little helpless shrug as if to say, Don’t look at me, I don’t know what the fuck it’s doing!

But when the damn thing actually brought out real paper money and set it on the counter, Jimmy got moving. Seemed he wasn’t picky about where his money came from, and Connor almost resented the fact he hadn’t thrown the android out on principle.

Who the hell gave it money in the first place? CyberLife? What, did they hand it a few bucks of allowance before letting it off its leash?

Despite all his reservations, and there were a great many of them, Connor was not about to turn down a free drink. Or two.

“Make it a double,” he grumbled, purposefully avoiding the android’s focused gaze. He could practically feel the thing staring into the side of his head, but at least it remained at a distance and wasn’t pressed against his side like a drunk, horny badge bunny anymore.

“Thanks, Jim.” Connor took the glass and tipped it back, drowning it in one go. The slide of the familiar burn down his throat, spreading throughout his limbs, did quite a lot to help ease the tension in his muscles.

He released a heavy exhale, pushed away from the bar, and got to his feet.

“You want to play plastic cop? Okay, then. Keep up,” he said, tilting his head in its direction without actually looking at it. “Or I’m leaving your ass behind.”

Connor didn’t wait for a response, only raised his hand in parting to Jimmy, and pushed open the door to let the rain-drenched Detroit night swallow him whole. But even through the sound of the rain pinging off the hood of his nearby car he could hear the even footfalls behind him, just a little too close for comfort.

Fucking androids.

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