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griffintail · 3 years

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The Lost Ones

Summary: Several of the SMP members find an infant in a place they didn’t expect and decide to care for them.

Pairings: Platonic! Parental! Tommy, Wilbur, Philza, Technoblade, Eret, and Dream x F! Child! Reader

Warnings! : Swearing, Village Raid, Minor Violence, Minor Deaths (Mostly mobs), mentions of blood

A/N : I’m the biggest sap for child readers. Dating back to 2014. I literally couldn’t help myself. Just so everyone knows, I suck at writing in gender neutral terms, that’s why the reader is specifically female in all of these (Including Tommy’s, Minor Spoiler, Tommy’s just an idiot and doesn’t look). So, sorry about that.

I’ll most certainly will make more of these. I won’t always have it just like this, I might write a certain character individually in a scenario. It’s all dependent on my mood. I might add more characters! This is just basically the introduction. So yeah...ENOUGH RAMBLING! Hope you enjoy :)

Tommy (Before the First Disc War)

Tommy smirked proudly to himself as he tucked his new disc safely into his inventory bag before starting the walk back to his home. His adventure was successful, he managed to get a rare disc and it was now all his. Walking through the small bit of woods, he rested his hand on his sword handle. It was still night time after all and the monsters were out to play.

As he could see the lights from the small town of the Dream SMP, he heard a cry. Looking back into the woods, he frowned before grinning.

Someone is in trouble! He’d save them and get a payment—er— “willing reward” from them. Pulling his sword, he ran over towards the sound of another cry, this time the sound being continued. He rolled his eyes, someone was crying, what a pussy. As the crying was practically on top of him, he frowned in confusion as he only found a skeleton, which was trying to shoot at a basket hanging in a tree. There was no one there to be crying.

He shrugged regardless, taking his shield off before going for the skeleton. It only managed one arrow before Tommy killed the mob. Looking at the basket, Tommy hummed before putting his weapon and shield away to climb up. As he got to a safe place to reach the basket, the crying now made sense as his eyes went wide.

“You’re a fucking baby!” He shouted in surprise.

Said infant noticed the new face and their wails quieted, but small cries still came out.

“Quiet down. You’re going to bring monsters!” He hushed, moving carefully, getting the basket off, and brought it to himself. “How the hell did you get up here? Who just leaves a baby?”

He looked down at the baby as he sat back in the tree. He couldn’t help but think how small she was, had he been that small when he was this young?

“Guess you got nowhere to go huh?” He asked as the child looked up, their cries having gone silent seeing the boy much closer.

They played with their blanket and he hummed as he held the basket close, making his way down the tree.

“You’re lucky, a big man saved you! I don’t live far, so you’ll come with me. Of course, I wouldn’t just leave you here again.” Tommy rambled, despite knowing the infant couldn’t respond back. “I’m not some kind of monster!”

He made it back to his home, putting the basket on his bed, and looked down at the baby with his hands on his hips.

“If you were left out there like that, you’re alone.” This time, the baby gave a small babble and he couldn’t help the small smile that came on his face. “Well, then I’ll take care of you! I’m a big man and can do it easy! Phil took care of my brothers and me after all and he’s old and stupid. I’m young and very wise, so I can do it. I suppose you’ll need a name now.”

If anyone had been in the room with Tommy, they’d be surprised how gentle he picked up the small human. Carefully, he held them properly, only knowing how as Phil had once shown him when they were helping a village out after a raid when he had taken the younger boy to trade.

“Hmm, I’ll call you (Y/N)!” He decided. “And I will be the greatest father ever! And I know the perfect way to celebrate today!”

Going into his bag, he grinned as he pulled out his new music disc. Putting it on the jukebox, he sat on his bed as the infant looked over at the object making the beautiful sound. His grin went into a gentle smile as he watched (Y/N) listen to the music. They’d both be happy; he’d make sure of it.

Twenty Minutes Later…

Tubbo sprinted down the stairs of his house as he heard frantic knocking on his door and the sound of crying. Swinging the door open, he let out a startled noise seeing a distressed Tommy holding a wailing baby.

Of course, he’d need some help since there was just a little bit of a learning curve.

Wilbur (Right after Declaration of War)

Times were hard. Wilbur had just started a new nation to free himself, his friends, and his family from the iron grip of Dream and his friends, but they did not like the loss of power and declared war on him. As well as the war, Fundy had become a rather rebellious teenager and Wilbur wasn’t sure how to handle all of it. He didn’t let it show to the others though. He’d be a strong leader for them.

He looked over his map of L’Manberg. They needed better defensive points…they fought with their words but Dream fought with weapons of destruction. They needed safe spaces to protect themselves…

Wilbur jumped, knocking over an ink bottle over on the table when there was pounding on the van door.

“Damn it.” He grumbled, quickly flipping the bottle back up and moved the map out of the way before going to the door.

He opened the door to see Eret standing there, making Wilbur raise an eyebrow as Eret was on guard duty at the moment but looked shocked seeing what the other man was holding.

“Hello, sir. They were just outside the gate. I didn’t see anyone else around.” Eret rapidly explained to his leader, the small infant wiggling in his hold. “I brought them here because they were cold.”

“Get inside,” Wilbur instructed, going into the back of the van again quickly.

He heard the door close as he grabbed his spare coat.

“Hand them over,” Wilbur muttered, Eret carefully transferring his hold to the other man.

Wilbur saw they had a blanket but it was thin and the child was cold to the touch. Wrapping his coat around them, he instructed Eret to light a furnace, which he did post haste.

“Hello there, love.” He whispered quietly to the infant, rocking them lightly. “We’re going to get you warmed up and something to fill your stomach, how does that sound?”

The baby didn’t fuss, too tired and cold to even thinking about making one. Wilbur stood next to the now lit furnace and looked up at Eret.

“Is anyone out there?” He asked, his proud leader voice coming out.

“No sir, I was worried about the child.”

Wilbur nodded. “I commend you for saving their life, but I have it from here. Send someone to fetch milk and then please stand guard again.”

Eret nodded before leaving the van.

Once the two were alone, Wilbur sighed heavily as he sat on the floor, still close to the furnace. He felt the child’s forehead, feeling them warm up to his relief.

“You gave us a scare little one.” He chuckled quietly. “But don’t worry, you’re in a safe place. L’Manberg will care for you. I suppose it was lucky you were left here rather than the Dream SMP.”

He hummed quietly as he gently rocking the child, their eyes closing as they relaxed in his hold. As they relaxed, he gave a quick check for their gender.

“Welcome little one. You’re the first woman of L’Manberg.” He smiled lightly.

For a short while, he was able to forget about everything outside the van. He could relax himself and let his mind clear as he watched the little girl in his arms. They were both at peace.

After a few minutes, he looked up as he heard the van door open. As he was standing up carefully, his own son Fundy came in holding a bucket.

“Hey, Eret said you needed…What the hell is that?!” Fundy exclaimed in surprise, startling the girl in his arms, tears appearing in her eyes.

“Shh, it’s alright,” Wilbur whispered to her as he rocked her again and he wiped her tears away with one hand.

Fundy cautiously came over, raising an eyebrow. “Who are they?”

Wilbur paused thinking for a moment, before smiling. “Meet your new little sister my son. (Y/N), the newest member of our great nation.”

Philza (Right before Wilbur’s Betrayal)

Phil shook out his wings as he landed in a village. He needed to rest them for a bit before continuing on his journey to L’Manberg. He had gotten word of how the tides had turned badly for his sons in the new nation they made to try and live peacefully. Originally, they hadn’t asked for his aid as Tommy and Wilbur had made contact with Techno and they believed with their older brother, they could surely turn it back. Yet, Tommy had sent him a letter with worry for Wilbur’s state of mind and Phil decided he needed to be there for his sons.

Yes, he wanted them to learn the world on their own but there were some times when Phil needed to be there to help them.

Looking at the sky, the night was fast approaching so he managed to get a house in the village for the night. Keeping his sword by his bedside, he went to sleep for the night…

Startling awake, Phil heard the sounds of the village bell.

“God damn it,” Phil mumbled, scooping his sword and bag before putting his hat on his head.

Running out, he saw the cause of the panicked ringing. A pillager raid, and it was already out of control. Fires were crackling madly and blood littered the paths.

“Shit.” He swore as a pillager spotted him and he dodged the arrow before running them through with his sword.

The few surviving villagers ran from their homes and Phil went to follow when he heard a wail, the wail of a child. His throat tightened as he looked back to the burning buildings, his fatherly instinct along with his good nature kicked in.

“God…” He muttered before spreading his wings.

With ease, he was able to dodge between pillagers and ravagers alike as he followed the sound. Landing at the house that was most certainly ablaze, Phil kicked in the door. Holding his arm to his mouth and nose, he rushed in and found a small nursery, the flames engulfing the walls and ceiling. Rushing to the crib, he found the small child and quickly picked them up.

“Let’s go kiddo.” He said as he rushed back out.

Once he was outside, he took flight again and flew high enough to be out of arrow range, and flew far from the village. As he did, he looked the small child, of which he found out was female, over for injures as she screamed and cried. She had no visible injuries but Phil knew she had to have inhaled smoke. So, after a handful of minutes flying, he landed and shushed her quietly.

“It’s alright kiddo, hang on,” Phil told her quietly as he went into his bag taking out a health potion. “I got something that can help you.”

Being gentle, he gave them a few drops of the potion to hopefully clear out any smoke and heal the damage it might have done. The little girl gave hiccups and small cries.

“It’s alright. You’re safe now.” He bounced her lightly, slowing down her cries to nothing. “There we go. We’re ok. Once morning comes, we’ll find the others of the rest of your village and see if we can’t find your parents.”

The little girl’s eyes merely drooped and he gave smile before he frowned as he looked up to see the fires in the distance. They were a human child and he didn’t remember seeing any humans running away with the survivors but he’d try. And if not…

“Don’t you worry, I’ll take care of you,” Phil assured the now sleeping infant.

Technoblade (Start of Retirement)

Techno shouldered the bag of wood he had gathered over his shoulder, his axe on his belt as he made his way home through the snow. The voices were relatively calm, not hungry for blood at the moment, and Techno was able to have a peaceful moment. As he trudged closer to his house, he slowed to a stop seeing footprints by the stairs and the voices kicked up as his thoughts went wild.

Phil always gave him notice on his walkie if he was on the way and whoever had been there had gone up the stairs then walked away in a different direction from where they came.

The voices were bringing up the question of if he was being scouted out. Who could have found his house? How did they find it? They started to demand blood.

Technoblade took his axe off his belt while putting down the bag of wood. Going towards the porch carefully, he held it ready to expect the worse when he entered his house but he didn’t even go up the stairs to find something. On his doorstep, there sat a large huddle of blankets.

Furrowing his eyebrows, he came up to the huddle carefully and slowly with his axe raised. Stopping when it was fully in view, he stared in even more confusion.

“What the hell?” He questioned, lowering his axe slightly as he looked around the snowy tundra. “Who leaves a child on my doorstep!”

In the middle of the huddle of blankets was a sleeping child, who wiggled slightly at the loudness of his voice.

They’re an orphan now

You know how you feel about orphans

Blood for the Blood God

Techno winced at the sounds of the voices as he looked at the child. They were right…they were an orphan now. Someone had left them on his doorstep and now they were abandoned. He gripped his axe tightly as he looked down at the infant.

It’d be quick and easy…

The small human opened their eyes slightly, squirming slightly as they saw him. Techno’s grip loosened, the voices screaming in protest. They were so small and so defenseless…he wasn’t calling for blood anymore.

Grunting, he put the axe away, going back down the stairs to grab the bag as he clenched his jaw at the loud noises of the voices before going back and picking up the child with surprising gentleness as the child was startled slightly. He shouldered his door open, dropping the bag of wood next to the unlit fireplace before making his way upstairs to his bedroom. He put the child down, who watched him in silent curiosity as Techno took the walkie off his belt.

“Phil, you there?” He questioned into it.

It took a minute but the device crackled.

“Yeah, what’s going on?”

“I got a…issue. Come over as soon as you can.”

“An issue? What kind of issue?” Phil asked in surprise as usually, Technoblade could handle most of his issues.

“It’s hard to explain, just come over.” Techno rubbed his temple at the screams of the voices.

“Alright, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

He put the walkie down as he looked over at the child watching him.

“What?” He huffed.

Then the child gave a small giggle, trying to get their hands free to hold them out to him. The man stood there in shock as his heart melted. He had not felt something like that in a long time. Scrunching up his nose slightly before coming over and taking the infant out of the blankets and holding her as he used to with Tommy.

“What the hell am I going to do with you?” He muttered and the small human held lightly onto his shirt, making even the voices slow down.

He down a level in his home to wait for Phil, keeping the child in his hold as he just decided to do his normal routine. He started a fire and began to brew a few potions when the knock came on his door.

“Come in.” He called.

In stepped his father, who immediately dropped his bag in surprise seeing what Techno was holding as he added a new ingredient to his potion.

“Hello.” He greeted the older man without looking at him.

“What the hell did you have?” The older man questioned.

Techno looked over at him confused. “Blaze powder.”

Phil took his hat off as he ran a hand through his hair. “I meant the baby!”

“Oh! Yeah, this.” Techno said casually, the older man freaking out. “Someone left them on my porch.”

“Oh god…are they ok?” Phil asked, coming over.

“Yeah, they’re fine. They were swallowed by blankets.”

The child tried to take a bottle in their hands and Techno simply moved it from them and kept working like it was the most natural thing in the world. Phil stood in surprise at how casual Techno was, he knew about the orphan thing and how vicious the voices in his head could be.

“What…what are you going to do with the child?”

“That’s why I called you,” Techno said, before holding the child to the man. “You take it.”

“What?! Techno, I can’t just take this child. I…” Phil’s hand shook slightly at the thought of Wilbur. “I can’t have another child right now. And L’Manberg will question where I even got them in the first place.”

“Well then what do I do with it?!” Techno huffed as he was surprised by the quietness of the voices.

“Well…you could take of them.”

“I don’t know how to take care of a child. I don’t even like children, have you seen me with Tommy?” Techno rolled his eyes.

“You seem to like this one.” Phil pointed out as Techno was holding them willingly and at the gentleness, he had with them.

Techno frowned as he tried to think of a good reason. “That’s because they’re quiet.”

“Look…I know you don’t want to hear this but maybe you should look after them, even just for a while. I can see if I can find someone who wants a child.”

No, you found them.

They’re rather cute…

Keep them!

The voices had done a full turn around from when they first saw the child. They were demanding Techno care for them and protect the fragile being. Techno couldn’t disagree with them because in his heart…he wanted to protect the child that had been left on his doorstep.

“Fine, I’ll take care of them for a while but you need to help me, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”

Phil chuckled. “Of course, son. We should look them over first to make sure they’re alright.”

Techno rolled his eyes but agreed, listening to Phil as he told him what to do. The father was smiling proudly as even though Techno was frustrated with the new task, he continued with it. Once she, as they discovered, was checked over, Phil put a hand on his son’s shoulder.

“What do you want to call her?” Phil asked.

He looked down at the child, who was giggling as Phil smiled at her.

“Blood Child.”

“Techno!”

Later, Techno actually decided on (Y/N) and for once, the voices were on his side.

Eret (Before the founding of L’Manberg)

Eret chuckled to himself as he walked down the path back towards his castle. Tommy’s antics for the day had been particularly ridiculous that it still brought a chuckle to the older gentleman as he went back to his home. He knew the days around the Dream SMP certainly wouldn’t be boring.

Walking to his castle, he stopped as he noticed a basket left in front of the door and peered inside.

“Why hello there.” Eret smiled seeing a small face peering back up at him as they squirmed slightly in discomfort. “What are you doing here little one?”

He carefully picked up the basket and went inside his castle. As he got to his bedroom, he carefully took the infant out struggling a bit but managed before searching a bit in the basket.

“Hmm, no note or anything.” He muttered as he looked at the child squirming around. “Well, someone made a mistake leaving you behind. Let’s see if I can’t figure out what’s making you so fussy.”

After a bit of trying, first checking to see if she needed a diaper, he figured she needed some food and managed to get milk, putting it in a clean potion bottle to help her drink it easier. That also took a few trials, but he managed to help her drink until she stopped fussing.

“There we go, now I can see your lovely face better.” He smiled as he sat on his bed, wiggling his finger in front of her making her giggle.

As he played with the small girl, he frowned slightly as he looked over the basket that she had been left in. Why would someone leave someone so precious on the doorstep of his castle? It was truly a shame for those that did leave the little girl as Eret couldn’t help but slowly smile again as the little girl grasped onto his finger.

“You’re not going to have to worry little one. You can stay here with me and you can be the princess of this castle.” He promised her, hugging her lightly, making her giggle. “I’ll make sure you’re safe and happy. It will take me a little while to learn how to do it all properly but I’ll learn. How does that sound…(Y/N)?”

He chuckled as he moved his head back as she reached for her glasses. Yeah, this sounded like a beautiful idea.

Dream (The Very Start)

Dream rolled his eyes behind his mask as he heard George screaming in the distance, Sapnap laughing wildly in return. Those two never know how to stop.

“Come on you two! We need to build a house before the night comes.” Dream called to them. “Stop goofing off.”

Yet, he could still hear George’s high-pitched scream and he just chuckled and shook his head at his friends’ behavior. They were the company he kept and he honestly wouldn’t trade them for anything.

Eventually, they did stop screwing and they were able to get to work on building their first home of the new land they had. The three of them joked and there was some arguing still between Sapnap and George but it just made it peaceful for the three of them. It was how their lives were.

Dream went to go look for some sheep to get wool for beds before night fully struck, leaving the two “children” at the house. As he went searching, he jumped when he heard the sound of screaming, but it wasn’t liking George’s scream. It was quieter but still a scream.

“Hello?!” Dream called as he pulled out his stone sword.

As he went towards the noise, he realized it wasn’t a scream of terror as he first thought it was. No, it was a screaming cry, the kind a child would make. He started sprinting at that thought and skidded to a stop as he found the infant that was making the sound laid on top of a rock, a group of three zombies trying to get it.

Dream gripped onto his sword before shouting to get their attention and moved back, quickly taking care of the mobs. He pushed his smiley mask to the side of his face as he finished them off and rushed over to the baby.

“Hey! Hey. It’s ok now.” He told them as he climbed up next to them, dropping his sword at the bottom. “All the bad things are gone.”

He gently picked up the baby, shushing them as he put a hand on top of their head. Slowly, they quieted down and Dream smiled wiping their tears away.

“Hey, there you go. See? There’s nothing to cry about.” He chuckled before screwing his face up to look funny.

The child giggled and he grinned.

“There we go. Now, let’s check you out.” He muttered, looking them over. “No injuries. That’s very good princess. Now, what are you doing out here?” He asked as he looked around, seeing no signs of human life other than the two of them.

Dream’s blood boiled slightly. Someone would just leave a child out here? If it wasn’t for him, she would have died!

“You got nowhere to go huh? Well, you don’t have to worry.” He said, carefully sliding down.

He picked up his sword, putting it back in its sheath, before walking back towards his friends.

“I’ll take care of you. You’ll be the princess of our new land! You, me, and your two idiot uncles.” He laughed, the tiny girl giggling at the sound. “And I’ll make sure you always have a reason to smile.”

#mcyt x reader #mcyt fanfiction #dreamsmp #tommyinnit x reader #wilbur soot x reader #technoblade x reader #philza x reader #eret x reader #dream x reader

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thefloorisbalaclava · 3 years

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hi lovie how r u? I dunno if u r taking requests, but maybe... I was thinking something where Javier starts to get a little bit cold towards y/n cos he saw horrible things that the narcos, pablo sicarios, did to some woman's relative to some other guys, including to Connie's cat and he's scared as hell they do something to y/n but when he realizes she's so sad and down, peña stars to show little acts of love in secrecy, like a note, one flower, a ring, just I don't know some angst and fluffy sorry for this long ass ask. thank you for your good posts ♡

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of violence, flashbacks, trauma, mentions of sex

A/N: My friend and I have been talking about Javi a lot lately so you sent this at the perfect time! Thanks!

[Javier Peña masterlist]

“Are you coming to see me today?” you asked Javier over the phone. He looked around the office then lowered his voice.

“I’ll see what I can do.” He regretted it almost immediately.

“I haven’t seen you in a week, Javi,” you reminded him. It was becoming plainly obvious that he was trying to avoid you or at least distance himself from you. What had you done wrong?

“I’ve been...busy,” he said. It wasn’t exactly a lie but just a few weeks ago, he had made time to see you almost every day.

“Right,” you sighed. You looked at the bags of groceries you bought to make dinner for you and him tonight. “Whatever.”

Javier sighed loudly. “I’ll call you later. I-” You hung up before he could finish whatever it was he was going to say. He slammed the phone down on the receiver and put his head in his hands. “Fuck,” he whispered.

He knew getting involved with you was a bad idea and not because you weren’t good or anything like that. If anything, you were too good. Fucking perfect. You were his safe haven, his softness, his saving grace. And that was the problem. You saved him but what if he couldn’t save you? He had seen what could happen to you. If anyone wanted to hurt him, you’re the first person they would go after and he couldn’t have that. He experienced firsthand with someone he loved and, God, he couldn’t live through that again. So he had to leave you.

Because he loved you.

You stared at him in awe as he stood in front of you and told you this. Then you scoffed and turned away. It was all you could do to stop yourself from slapping him in his stupid, beautiful face.

“To protect me?” you repeated bitterly. “Just say that you don’t wanna be with me and stop using work as an excuse.”

“I’m not here to argue with you,” he said calmly.

“No, you’re only here to break my heart,” you snapped. “Well...you can go.”

“Okay but-”

“No! Just go...please.” You couldn’t look at him mostly because you were so angry but also because you didn’t want him to see the tears in your eyes. “I’m sure there’s a woman out there who will happily welcome you back into her bed.”

“Maybe you’re right,” he said and finally you whipped around to look at him.

“Fuck you, Javier.” You didn’t care if he saw the tears now. “If you’re being cold and indifferent to try and make this easier...fine. It worked. Get out. I never want to see you again.” You stormed away only to grab the pack of cigarettes he left on your table for when he came over. “Don’t forget these.” You threw the pack, hitting him directly in the face.

He scoffed and picked the cigarettes up then turned to the door. He stopped as if he was going to say something but then you heard the door close behind you and he was gone. Only when he was back in his car did he let his emotions show. His eyes filled with tears and he hit the steering wheel over and over again before putting his head against it. He tried lighting a cigarette but his hands shook so badly that it was impossible. Another burst of anger as he threw his lighter somewhere in his car.

He had to do it. Right? He had to. He couldn’t stand having another one of those dreams about finding Helena only for her to change into you when he got close enough.

There were plenty of nights where he would sit outside your place in his car just to make sure you got home okay. He was dreading the day he saw a man following you inside. He also wondered if you got any of the notes and gifts he left for you. This was the safest thing for now.

You sighed and rolled your eyes when you found another note from Javier slipped under your door, another little gift for you on the table, and a bottle of your favorite wine. The first time it happened you could only laugh to yourself when you remembered that he still had a key to your place.

As always, you threw everything in the garbage.

Except for the notes. For some reason you couldn’t part with them. Maybe because they smelled like him--that faint smell of his soap mixed with the smell of his cigarettes. Maybe because when you read them you did so in his voice. That goddamn voice of his and how it could change so quickly. Sometimes it was sweet and welcoming with just enough rasp to give him that air of that bad boy type. Other times it was low and growly which was usually reserved for when he was inside you, talking dirty to you, calling you a bad girl but how you were so good for taking him so well.

You closed your eyes and bit your lip at the thought.

“Enough,” you said quietly, walking over to grab that unopened bottle of wine from the top of the trash.

Some nights you felt like you were being watched when you walked home from work but not in a threatening way. If Javier was watching you he kept himself hidden well because you could never find his car when you stopped to look for it.

You touched the necklace you wore as you turned the corner to your apartment and Javier watched. It made him sit up a bit when he noticed you were wearing it. He waited until he was sure you were settled down--he knew you had to ear dinner, shower, then watch a little television before you really got ready for bed.

Then he called.

“Hello.” You answered on the third ring like you always did. He didn’t know what to say. Hey, I’m sorry I was an idiot? Hey, I’ve been watching you come home every night like some creep? “Hello?” He could hear the slight annoyance in your tone.

“I-It’s me. It’s Javi,” he finally said.

“Oh...”

“Don’t hang up!” He added quickly.

“I want my key back,” you said.

“So you’ve been getting them?” he asked.

“Getting what?” You looked down at the necklace then touched it.

“The gifts I’ve been leaving you.” He looked up at your window and could see your silhouette through the curtains.

“I throw them all away,” you lied.

“I don’t blame you.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I miss you.”

You were quiet for a long time--afraid to speak because you knew what would happen if you did. “I miss you too,” you cried, sniffling quietly. Javier’s heart ached. He wanted nothing more than to run up those stairs and into your arms. But as soon as he closed his eyes he could only see you lying there, beaten and bloody, all because he couldn’t leave you alone.

“I’m gonna hold you again one day,” he said. “I promise. We’re both gonna get the fuck outta here...so far away. No one will be able to find us.” His throat tightened as his own tears threatened to spill over. “Look out the window...”

“What?”

“Just look out the window.” He looked up at your window just in time to see you carefully pull the curtains back slightly. “Hey hermosa.”

“Hey handsome,” you said tearfully.

“No llores,” he said although there was a tear rolling down his cheek now. “Please, don’t cry.”

“Promise me you’ll hold me again, you’ll kiss me again, you’ll make love to me again,” you cried.

“I promise. I swear to you.” He looked up and saw that you put your hand against the window so he put his against the car window. “I love you.”

“I love you too...you asshole.” You laughed through your tears and it made him smile.

“Goodnight,” he said quietly, not wanting to let you go.

“Goodnight, Javi.” You hung up and walked away from the window. It would hurt too much to watch him drive away.

javi taglist: @allthingsnarcos @josepedropascal @oof-dindjarin @xjustmenobodyelse @rach7 @limenlimon @windfallss @findhimfives @the-bird-suit @oldstuffnewstuff @hoodedbirdie @fakenoods @nathan-bateman @helga1031 @triggerhappyflygirl @master-obi-wan-kenboneme @ladybeediva @heythere80sbaby @16boyfriends-and-me @laymegentlytorest @jeeperky @dee-rosemary @stanfordscrush @panda-angela @dindjstarin @simsiddy @deserttastesbitter @lightan117 @terrormonster55 @darnitdraco @dindjarinneedsahug @queenbbarnes @hells-bells-x @elizabeth-von-winken-universe @dodgerandevans @slugbuggie @allmahfeels @nemo-my-name-forevermore @marvelousmermaid @queridopascal

permanent taglist: @magicsuperheroes @feelmyroarrrr @the-dazzling-urbanite @phoenixhalliwell @liveloudwriteloud @tumblogbykarapaloma @jaime1110 @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @pascal-isaac @dazedrhapsody @pascalisthepunkest @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @tiffdawg @freak-of-nature2002 @kingpascals @saltywintersoldat @theocatkov @mandilflorian @cyaredindjarin @themarcusmoreno @the-feckless-wonder @loki-098 @arabellathorne @dindisneydjarin @punkpascal @opheliaelysia @takens-world @huliabitch @stardelic @kandomeresbitch @havenforafrazzledmind @thisis-theway @stardust-galaxies @mrsparknuts @jedi-mando @frankiemorales @edencherries @lilkermit14 @virtualxjournality @thirstworldproblemss @emesispo @heresathreebee @tangledlove27 @marvgrrl @hayley-the-comet @insoucianttt @witchyavenger @coaaster @starless-eyes-remain @wanderlustmags @wonderfulfluffer @lv7867 @pedropasscals @pedroepascal @wigwitch @seasonschange-butpeopledont @theoria850 @roxypeanut @autumnleaves1991-blog @kenedyybrooklin @artsymaddie @dindjareen @silverfish-kingdom @heyitmelexie @gredandfeorgesgirl @mandaloriandindjarin @moonlight-prose @rosiefridayrogersunday @ssppoorrkk @amalie-buch @lucifer- @mstgsmy @randomness501 @darthadeline @youarenewformetoo @thehippiequilter @whovian-gurl @neverlandlibrarian @chibi-liz05 @dragons-of-the-usa @over300books @borderlinedindjarin @mudhornchronicles @cosmoschick @linkpk88 @lovingramsey @djvrins @escapedthesarlacc @coni-martina @pedrospunk @burrshottfirstt @jitterbugs927 @xserenax-13 @anatanotegami @doin-stuff @djarinsruni @aerolanya @icanbeyourjedi @bison-writes @strangelittlenobody @dinsbeskar @sarahjkl82-blog @neontiiger @houseofthirst @intu-witch-tion @ennuiandthebourgeoisie @littlebopper96 @boxdyeblonde @empressamidala @myheart-pedro @mtjoi @purplepascal042 @goalkeepernerd @rebelliouscat @leaiorganas @eternallyvenus @mandocrest @kellyozz @the-wishmonger @maythxthirstbxwithyou @andiebell2023 @moonlightburned @videogamesandpoorlifechoices @leonieb @freeshavocadoooo @auroraariza @kalimont83 @notabotiswear @martellthemandalor @beesting77 @medeasmiles @diaryofkali @mando-amando @venusdjarin @mystical-934 @blackmarketmummy @hauntedmama @mamacitapascal @insomniamamma @pedro4ever @greeneyedblondie44 @mitchi-c @prideandpascal

#javier peña #headcanon #narcos #carstwirs

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gojospetd0g · 3 years

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The accidental meet-up

Megumi Fushiguro x reader

Just some wholesome fluff about running into your childhood friend you never talked to since junior high.

“Can you please go to the store for me, y/n?” Asked mom from her office room.

“Sure.” I walked there and popped my head in “What do we need?”

“There’s the list honey, thank you so much.” She handed me the note and smiled at me with a usual tired face.

“You have enough to do mom, and i wanted to get some fresh air anyway.”

“Be careful on your way. Should i call someone to go with you?”

“It’s fine the store is not that far y’know!”

“Just making sure. Then, take care sweetie, hurry before it gets late. There’s some extra money on the fridge, buy something for yourself.”

“Thanks, i’ll be back soon!”

I went back to my room and got ready. Mom was a jujutsu sorcerer back in the day but after an incident in which she experienced a huge loss, she retired. She was a teacher in Tokyo Jujutsu High but now she’s an undercover in there. Looking for curses and informing the school, the heads of the sorceres and things like that. However, she’s considering going back because a certain boy ate a finger of Sukuna’s. She tells me stuff you know, she spills everytime i massage her shoulders or make her coffee to have a break.

In my case, i can’t see curses nor do i hold the power sorcerers have. But it’s fine, mom said it’s better this way. Her stories are fun tho, i wish i could have some connection with this whole thing, my life is really boring this way. Anyways, as i left the house i put my earplugs in, closing off the noises of the outside world. On my way i thought of getting some snacks for later tonight. I was planning on catchcing up with some shows.

After minutes of walking i was getting closer to the store. But i couldn’t believe my eyes, there was someone really familiar going to the same building. I took one earplug out and squinted my eyes. Is that.. If that’s not him i can just pretend i’m having a phone call or sum.

“Megumi?” He looked my way, a suprised expression on his face. He didn’t change one bit; hair messy, face expressionless as always.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?”

“I could ask the same! What happened to your face? The guy who always beat others got beaten up? How is that possible.”

He laughed a little, looking at the ground “Well.. stuff happened.”

“Sure did, oh-“ i looked at his clothes and asked “Are you a jujutsu sorcerer?”

“How do you know about this? Sorry I mean-”

“See you never believed me when i told about my mom beating evil curses!”

“Jesus y/n that was ages ago! How was i supposed to believe that?”

“Hmph, so disrespectful.”

“If your mom is a sorcerer why aren’t you-

“I can’t see shit, i have absolutly nothing to do with this whole thing. Sooo good luck i guess, be strong.”

“That’s...unfortunate.”

“All good.”

“Do you want to catch up? I.. missed you. I guess.”

“Aww, did you really?? I don’t even know why you stopped talking to me suddenly so yeah! I have some things to buy let’s go in ol’ friend!”

Even when we were little we were on good terms with Megumi. He stayed over at our place a lot but i was never at his, we were classmates throughout elementary and junior high school every year and there was nothing more than great friendship. He beat guys up who hurt me in any way, took me out sometimes and overall he was a really good friend. Best friend as you call it. But some days after junior high he stopped answering my calls, texting me back and everything. I was feeling really under the rock at the time, i doubted myself every day: ‘did i do something wrong?’ ‘what happened to him?’ ‘where did he go?’ ‘is he okay?’ Until one day i got a message from an unknown number saying ‘I’m sorry i’ll explain one day-Bedhair’ And i knew it was him. I was never really the type to keep grudges and i moved on since then, deep down waiting for that day. And the day came. Unexpectedly. Accidentally.

“So did you make any friends?” I asked opening the ice cream i just bought. He opened his can on Sprite, nodding.

“I guess you can call them friends. Shit, there are only three first years including me. And we live in a hostel. Kinda fancy tho. My upperclassmate is a literal panda, and the other one is communicating with sushi ingredients. Don’t get me started with our teacher, he took pics of me when i first got beaten up.”

“Bruh, damn. That’s deep.” I laughed and he smiled at that. “Sounds fun.”

“Did you make any friends?”

“Yeah, i have a few. Not as cool as your friends but they’re fun to hang out with too.” He nodded as he sipped on his soda.

“You don’t know how glad i am to see you.”

“Aw, things have been rough or sumthing?”

“Yeah. I don’t know if i’m allowed to tell you this tho.”

“Please, my mom always tells me everything. She even draws me how the curses look sometimes.”

He looked me dead in the eyes then smiled with a sigh. “So i was sent to this school to—“

And he told me. He told me how that ‘idiot’ ate Sukuna’s finger, how he met his other classmate, a full of potential but loud girl, how his said friend died in front of him and how he came back. How the fight went against the other school and other small things that happened in his daily life. He asked about me too. And i told him. I told him everything that i’ve been throught and he didn’t judge me for them being just average teenage things, he was interested in the new game i was playing, the new mangas i’ve been reading, how i started cooking ect. I’ve always loved the way he listened and the way he talked. I felt understood and at peace next to him.

“But i understand why you decided to distance yourself from me. I’m not mad don’t worry.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, mom told me how i could be in serious danger if i was in some kind of relation with anyone in this field. She’s kinda unknown now so i’m okay, but if she goes back to work seriously i might have to move.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s okay, my rich aunt, swag unle and gay cousin live not that far from here. They’re even closer to my school! I’m prepared bestie.”

“Thank god. I don’t even have to explain then.”

“What is that supposed to mean!”

I pushed him hard but he didn’t even budge.

“Holy-!”

“Know who you’re messing with weakling.”

“If you keep this act up i’m going to leave.”

“Ok sorry.” He laughed and made our knees touch. Back in middle school we’d always connect our knees for no reason so it just felt quite nostalgic.

“I missed you too Megumi.”

“Happy to know that.” He smiled gently.

But as he was about to say something we heard agressive running and a “Fushiguro-kyun!”

A puder pink haired guy and a short brown haired girl clung into him asking “Who is this woman??”

“Have you forgotten the night you toasted to my eyes? Was it all a lie when you said your time with me was the most enjoyable of all? That night, that night!”

They must be the said friends, i just laughed at what they were saying. He really found good people to be around and i’m glad.

Another voice was heard “Could you not touch him so casually please?” A rather handsome man stood a few steps from us. Is he the teacher? “You homewreckers?! Megumi-chan has violin practice with me now.”

“Do you play the violin?” I asked him, not paying attention anymore. I wiped my eyes from the laughing while he just stayed unbothered and done with all of them.

“No i don’t.”

“Let’s go home, Megumi-chan.” Finished his speech the beautiful eyed man.

“Don’t mind them please. Are you done?” He said to all of them, pushing the girl away and punching the guy next to him.

I took my bags and bowed a little “Hi i’m y/n, i’m an old friend. Nice to meet you all.”

“Oh you’re y/n! I’m Itadori Yuuji.” The pink haired guy smiled at me and i tilted my head, averting my eyes to Megumi. But he looked away immediatelly “Fushiguro told me about you.”

“Did he really?? Dang, Megumi.”

“First name phasis huh? I’m Gojou Satoru. Their teacher.” He showed a rather questionable face but it was funny, the girl and i laughed. I looked at her and she turned away with a blush.

“Nobara.. Kugisaki.”

“That’s a cute name it suits you!” Her blush deepened as she flipped her hair, sticking her tounge at Itadori with the lines of ‘they didn’t compliment you but they did me!’

“Gojou-san stop staring at me.” Said Megumi “We’ve known each other since we were little we just bumped into each other.”

Then my phone rang. “It’s mom, i should go. I’ve been out longer than expected.”

“I’ll walk you home.” Suggested Megumi but i declined.

“It’s okay, i’ll be fine. It was a pleasure to meet you all. Take care of Megumi for me, be safe guys!” I said walking away.

“Tell your mom i said hi.” Said Gojou with a wink which made me shiver and gag, that sounded so wrong. “N-not in that way i just know her!”

With a laugh i answered the phone call. I was a bit far from them already as they went the opposite way as well, then i sighed.

“Thank god i was worried. Everything’s fine honey?”

“Yeah.” My voice came out weaker than expected. I really missed Megumi. And now i do again. “I missed him so much mom.” A tear slid down my face, but my smile never faded.

“I know honey. I know. Hurry home, i’m making cookies. We can talk about it when you arrive.”

“Thanks. I’ll be there soon.” With a sob i put the earplugs in, treasuring todays happening. Who knows when we’ll be able to see each other again.

I woke up and chose wholesome but make it sad at the end :D

Hope you guys enjoyed, have a nice day/night! <3

#megumi x reader #megumi #yuuji #nobara #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #wholesome #imagine #oneshot #short #megumi x y/n #megumi x you #gojou #megumi fushiguro #itadori yuuji #nobara kugisaki #nobara supremacy #gojou satoru

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siren-dragon · 3 years

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Cultural Studies -- The Cat Returns fanfic

Hello again, guess who wrote another one-shot! Anyway, this prompt came to me (along with several others, lol) so I decided to write something for it. Also, big thanks to everyone who enjoyed my first story. Also, Haru’s outfit is based on the yukata from the Love Nikki game and I may draw something for this story at a later date. Anyway, please enjoy!

AO3 story link Tagging: @mysticsoulgirl

Prompt: Summer Fireworks Festival

=======================================================

Though the Sanctuary, and by extension the Cat Bureau itself, experienced many a visitor wishing for assistance with one thing or another- it wasn’t exactly a stationary place. True, anyone could follow Muta from the Crossroads and through the twists and turns of Japan’s alleys to locate the entryway arch, but that wasn’t truly the Bureau’s physical location. Anyone who was in need could find the Sanctuary entrance, all they had to do was merely look for it. So, while Baron was not unaccustomed to a variety of clients (even if the quantity seemed to have diminish over the years), it was always a study in new cultures when a guest appeared. Even when the cat figurine made a point to be open and courteous to a visitor, there were often a few things he gained new knowledge of.

“A fireworks festival? I’m afraid I’ve not heard of such a thing before.” He spoke, handing Haru a now size-appropriate cup thanks to the Bureau’s magic.

The dark brunette offered a small word of thanks and a bright smile before continuing. “Really? Oh, they’re great fun. Originally it was started as a festival for the dead; to mourn the lost one while celebrating life. But nowadays it’s just a fun activity to watch while eating festival food with friends.”

“Did I hear someone mention food?” Muta spoke, closing the front door behind him. “Hey Chicky, you bring any snacks with you today?”

From the upstairs balcony came a snort of displeasure. “You ever think of anything aside from your stomach,” Toto drawled, rolling his eyes at the cat’s one-track mind.

“What was that birdbrain?!”

“Oh, come on, think of a new insult piggy-cat!”

Before the fight could escalate anymore Haru, now a more convenient size for Baron’s home, rose from her seat on the sofa and lifted a bag where the scent of sugar and fresh fruit wafted throughout the room. “If you two are going to fight, then Baron and I will eat this by ourselves- including the mulberries I got special for you Toto.”

Both cat and crow immediately silenced themselves before tossing a glare at the other, “You got lucky, big chicken.”

“Sure thing, marshmallow.”

Baron sighed, taking out the necessary cutlery before Muta decided to forego the use of utensils. “Muta, have you experienced such festivals in the Human Realm?”

“What festivals?”

“The fireworks festival coming up this weekend,” Haru clarified as she handed Toto the collection of mulberries she brought.

It was here that the ex-con feline grinned, “oh yeah. Gotta love summer festivals in Japan with all their fried food and sweets. Best time to be a cat.”

Toto snickered, “why am I not surprised; you only think from your stomach.”

“Shut up!”

“There’s also games where you can win prizes and some shops as well. And at the end there is large fireworks show everyone watches to celebrate the summer season.” It was here that Haru’s excited smile seemed to dim slightly, “I was going to go with Hiromi, but she has a family reunion to attend. And my Mom will be out of town during that weekend- so I’ll just be watching it from my house.”

As a figurine being made out of wood, anything associated with fire was typically something Baron tried to actively avoid. And while he would deny it fervently later onto a rather smug looking Muta and Toto, the slightly disheartened expression on Haru’s face sent a rather unpleasant sensation through his chest sent nearly all thoughts of self-preservation out the window. It reminded him of their previous adventure in the Cat Kingdom; with her clad in a fine, pale-yellow gown and wearing a look of absolute despair despite it having been her so called “wedding day”. And so, it was not 2 seconds later that he found the words tumbling from his lips without any kind of second thought.

“Perhaps we can accompany you to this festival instead, Haru.”

That certainly caused the brunette to stare at him in surprise, yet a spark of joy danced within her caramel eyes. “Really? You guys would want to go with me?”

“Hey, if there’s food then you can count me in.” Muta shrugged, finishing his slice of chiffon cake.

Toto nodded, “I’m sure it’d be a great experience; what with the lack of clients to the Bureau.”

Haru beamed brightly with sheer delight, “Thank you everyone, I’m sure you all will love it!”

When Haru had finally left for the day, a definite spring in her step, Muta couldn’t help but turn a sly grin to his fellow feline. “Well, that was rather generous of you to volunteer us for something you didn’t even know about till 30 minutes ago.”

“I’m not sure what you are inquiring Muta. It was quite clear that Miss Haru was looking forward to this festival and it would be unbecoming of a gentleman to allow her to merely remain home alone and miss the event entirely.”

Toto nodded, “I have to say, I agree with Baron on this one. But I don’t think it was that difficult to persuade you after that melancholic expression crossed her face.”

Baron gave a displeased frown to his colleague’s rambunctious laughter, which did nothing to hide the slight tint of pink beneath his cream-colored fur. Honestly, since when was chivalrous behavior become a source of mockery? And yet… the sight of Haru’s joyful smile was more than worth it.

“So, are you going to wear a yukata?”

“A what?”

That answer only made the hefty white cat laugh louder.

======================================================

“Muta… are you quite sure that this garment is placed on correctly.”

“If the picture is anything to go by, then yeah. Besides; you can’t wear a suit with tails to a summer festival- you’ll stick out too much.” The large cat answered, glancing down at the newspaper advertisement in his hands before looking back to his much shorter friend. “Hmm, I think that’s right.”

“You idiot, tie for the sash is supposed to be in the back.” Toto commented, taking the advertisement with his beak to compare the image to Baron’s new attire. “See, there isn’t a giant bow in the front.”

“Okay first, it’s called an obi and second, stop butting in birdbrain!”

“I wouldn’t have to if you knew what you were doing, fluff-ball!”

Baron was going to attempt to silence their bickering before the sash about his waist loosened slightly causing the robe to flutter open and expose part of his chest and collarbone before the ginger feline took hold of the garment’s sides and quickly held them closed. He briefly wondered if it would perhaps be better to merely wear his typical suit before a knock sounded on the door- halting Muta and Toto’s argument. The crow quickly flew toward the door and swiftly opened the door to reveal Haru. She too was clad in a traditional yukata of navy blue with ivory and cream-colored stars swirling around a crescent moon at the hem of the dress before continuing upward. The sash wrapped around her waist took on a pale blue color while the right sleeve of her dress shifted colors; with the stars now dark and the fabric white shade. Though her hair was cut short, it was still pinned back by a blue, yellow, and orange silk flower with the latter two colors matching the shade of his own fur. To be perfectly honest, she looked quite breath-taking.

“Baron are you wearing a yukata?” She grinned, noticing his change of attire immediately which only made the statuette cling to the folds of the loosened robe all the more tightly. “I didn’t even know you had one!”

“Well, Muta saw fit to inform me this is the traditional attire for a summer festival so it is a recent addition to my wardrobe. However, I seem to be having a bit of trouble actually dressing.” He answered, unable to prevent the sigh from leaving his lips at his current dishevelment.

Haru giggled, placing her small bag on the sofa before approaching him. “Don’t worry, it’s always challenging for a first-timer. Here, you just need a little bit of adjusting…”

Despite his attempt to remain calm at the innocent offer, Baron couldn’t help the heat rushing to his face as Haru approached and began shifting the obi about his waist he had attempted to tie on earlier. He still kept his hand clenched about the folds of the yukata as Haru expertly straightened the robe, to which he gave her a very grateful smile. Soon he was now properly clothed, even wearing the haori properly before Haru stepped back to admire her handy work (though Baron felt a slight twinge of disappointment at her shift away from him). “There we go, a perfect fit.”

“Thank you, Haru. And may I say, you look lovely as well.”

She beamed at his reply as she moved to retrieve her bag. “Thanks Baron. But if you wanted to wear a yukata, I could have helped you find one.”

Muta shook his head, “that would have ruined the surprise Chicky. Plus, nothing was more amusing than watching Baron try to put it on.”

“As always, your assistance is greatly appreciated Muta.” Baron replied dryly, remembering the past hour where both his friends tried to guide him in how to wear the clothes.

As they walked through the archway of the Sanctuary, Muta walked ahead of them now on all fours while Toto took to the skies. However, as soon as Baron exited alongside Haru, he grew till he was once more a head taller than the dark-haired young woman instead of a foot-tall figurine. But the fact that his feline appearance remained gave Haru pause- knowing most would not really take the appearance of a half-cat man kindly (even if people believed it to be a ridiculously realistic mask). But it seemed her thoughts were rather evident on her face, because Baron was quick to assuage her fears. “Do not worry Haru, there is a spell in place masking my real appearance. You are the only one who can see the truth.”

“I didn’t know you can use such spells, Baron.” She asked curiously.

He nodded, offering his arm to her which she gladly accepted. “Yes, though I am afraid they are only temporary. But I thought this would make our evening engagement far more enjoyable without any disturbances from bewildered onlookers.”

“It’s no trouble at all, actually I think it’s a good idea. It does make me curious as to how your disguise looks.”

Baron paused and gestured to the glass window of a shop they were walking past, “see for yourself.”

Turning to the window, Haru looked at Baron’s reflection nearly jumped in alarm upon not seeing the familiar feline characteristics she had come to cherish. Instead, the face of a young man who looked a few years older than herself gazed back at her from the reflection. His hair was a light tawny blonde the same shade as Baron’s fur, perfectly coiffed to suit the Creation’s usual debonair attire. Where once fur and whiskers existed was now fair skin and a rather amused smile taking in her slightly bewildered expression. Yet despite the disguise, Haru took comfort in the fact that Baron’s eyes were still the same shade of mint-green.

“That is rather impressive, if a bit shocking at first.” She laughed a little nervously.

Baron frowned, “does it bother you too much?”

“No, it’s not that,” she answered with a shake of her head before beaming up at him. “I just prefer you the way you are, that’s all.”

It was the second time in the past few days that Baron found his words failing him once again at her kind, yet honest words.

======================================================

Perhaps the first thing that caught Baron’s attention were the vibrant banners illuminated by dozens of lights and lanterns. The street was lined with colorful booths, each hosting a different attraction as friends and families traveled back and forth to every single one. It was a rather jarring change from the peace and quiet of the Cat Bureau, but as he glanced down at the excited grin on Haru’s face as she enthusiastically explained each booth’s function, Baron couldn’t help the pleased smile drifting across his face. “So then, what would you recommend we do first?”

“Food, I’m starving!” Muta cried from about their legs before he bolted down the street, causing several people to laugh at the rather large cat obviously following the scent of frying food. “Takoyaki, here I come!”

Haru laughed, “well, food always is a good choice. Though we’d best pace ourselves, festival food is great, but not exactly healthy.”

“Then I shall follow your lead, Haru.” Baron added, glancing around briefly with a bit of confusion drifting across his face, “I must admit, I thought a fireworks festival would have more of that particular attraction.”

“That happens at the end of the night, mainly because it’ll be darker and it’ll give us a chance to see most of the booths before we have to find seats to watch the fireworks. But we’d best find Muta before he manages to pilfer too many snacks.”

Baron chuckled, “I think it’s more of his charming attitude that wins him such favors.”

Haru couldn’t help but laugh at that, and judging from the faint cawing above their heads, Toto heard it as well. “Well, we’d best hurry before that charm gets a bit carried away.”

The couple soon found their way further into the festival and managed to find Muta, who looked rather smug at having charmed a piece of taiyaki from a group of teenage girls. True to her word, Haru managed to procure a few treats for them all to try, ranging from takoyaki to kakigori to some onigiri before they walked to where Toto waited upon a nearby but isolated tree. Muta had nearly claimed all of the takoyaki while Toto took a liking to the plain onigiri and the roasted chestnuts Baron was eating. Though Baron was not overly found of the deep-fried food, he couldn’t deny that the kakigori Haru offered was quite delicious.

As the sun soon sank below the horizon and the sky turned dark with the coming night, many people started moving away from the bright lights of the festival stalls to await the oncoming fireworks display. “We don’t really want to be too close to all the larger crowds, so we’ll stay on the outskirts instead.” Haru informed them, taking a seat beside the grass. “And I wanted to thank you guys again, for coming with me.”

“Nonsense Haru, this was most enjoyable and we were happy to accompany you.”

“Even though you had to forgo your suit?” She replied with a teasing grin.

Baron gave a slightly sheepish look, “I will admit that dressing did pose quite the challenge, but well worth the effort.”

“Even still, thank you for being such a good sport about it. And I’m glad you had a good time.” Haru chimed happily, turning to look at the ever-growing groups awaiting the final event of the festival. “Hopefully we’ll be able to see everything with so many people…”

“Well, we merely need a seat with a view; and I believe I may have a solution.”

“What do you mean by that?”

The ginger gentle-cat only offered her a hand with a secret smile, “Just trust me.”

At the familiar words, Haru rested her hand upon his and watched as the world around them seemed to stretch upward as her height plummeted to its usual size whenever she visited the Bureau. Toto then landed beside them, offering a place upon his back with Baron holding on tightly the Stone Creations black feathers and Haru wrapping her arms about his waist. Once they were situated on the now gigantic crow, Toto rose high into the air (though not before snatching Muta in his claws much to the large cat’s displeasure while muttering something that sounded like “always a showoff.”) before gliding through the evening sky.

They were only flying for a few minutes before a high-pitched whistle sounded only to be followed by a large explosion of white and gold lights as the fireworks show began. Haru watched in silent amazement as they soared the atmosphere as each of the colorful illuminations danced around them like falling stars. She a joyful laugh at sheer sight of the fireworks show from a literal bird’s eye perspective, “alright, now this is a view.”

“I must agree,” Baron added, though it was hard to hear over the sound of the fireworks.

Moving her head forward, Haru placed a gentle kiss upon Baron’s fur-covered cheek before leaning to rest her cheek against his back. “Just for the record, this is the best fireworks festival I’ve ever been to.”

And for the third time in Haru’s presence, Baron found himself at a loss for words as a pleasing warmth started to overcome his face. Yet as he turned to watch the brilliant lights display with the young woman beside him, he had to admit that it certainly was an enjoyable evening.

#the cat returns #neko no ongaeshi #baron humbert von gikkingen #haru yoshioka #renaldo moon #muta #toto (cat returns)#haru x baron #fanfiction #summer festival #fireworks #flustered baron gives me life #fluffy fic #one shot #my writing

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thekillingmoonmoon · 3 years

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THANK YOU

WHEN THE LEVEE BREAKS: PART THREE

ROADHOUSE BLUES AU

Pairing: Gangster!Toji x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, smut, oral (f. receiving), one slap, an angry Megumi, a very very soft dom!Toji, praise, SatoSugo are big idiots in this, swearing, we don’t deserve Tsumiki, I try to write myself out of the most awkward moment, reader has a very BIG CRY

Length: 6k

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

“And so, today my world it smiles Your hand in mine, we walk the miles Thanks to you, it will be done For you to me are the only one”

The silence shattered over you, piercing and direct.

Only the sound of the kettle boiling filled the chasm of silence between you, Toji, and his aghast children. You wondered if you could open the cupboard below and crawl into it. Well, that was one secret gone. As well as your two best friends. Gone. You cleared your throat and tapped Toji on his bare shoulder, “You should probably put on some clothes – “ you followed Toji’s eyes as he looked pointedly at his shirt, which you were wearing, “um, at least go put on pants, I’ll bring your shirt now,” you tried to push Toji toward your room, to try and get him out of sight, and hopefully out of mind. But, of course, trying to move Toji was like trying to move a mountain, and a slow smirk sidled across his face as he caught the flustered desperation in your eyes. “Alright, alright. I’m going, sweetheart,” he placed a deliberate kiss to the corner of your mouth, and, his hand still on your bare thigh, pinched the flesh teasingly, “but don’t think I’m done with you yet, doll.”

Toji tossed a sly smile at his children, specifically Megumi, and left the room. He whistled, stretching as he walked, making the long red lines you’d scratched into his back last night all the more obvious. You sighed into your hands and rubbed your temples. Through your fingers you looked to you soon-to-be-ex friends. Tsumiki was near crimson, her ears a furious shade of red as the implications of what you’d been doing with her father became clear. Poor thing. Of course, she knew you were sleeping with someone, else why would you ask her to stay at Megumi’s all the time? But it’s not like she thought about it, or sex, in general. She was far too dedicated to her studies to bother with men. You wished you could say the same, then you wouldn’t be in what had to be one of the most awkward situations you’d ever experienced, including the time you’d caught Maki and Nobara fucking in the dressing room.

You examined her closely, reading the line of her brow and the slight parting of her lips. Shock. Confusion. Hurt. All to be expected really, you chided yourself. At least it wasn’t disgust, or anger. The same could not be said for Megumi. His mouth was set in a tight line, his jaw clenched. His eyebrows were set low over his eyes, which seemed to flash as he glared at you.

You clambered off the counter, holding Toji’s shirt closed over your chest, grateful that it was long enough to cover your underwear. You gulped, “You must have questions,” you fumbled, rubbing the back of your neck and looking anywhere but at the siblings. Megumi started, mouth opening, and you prepared for his yell. But Tsumiki held out her hand to stop him, and took a step toward you. “How long has this - uh - ‘thing’ been happening?” Tsumiki winced at her own word choice. You understood though, you wouldn’t have known how to define your relationship with Toji either, at least not until this morning. “About a year and a half,” you tilted your head, cycling through your memory. That seemed to take the siblings aback. You’d only known them for a year, and had been Tsumiki’s flatmate for even less time. “So you knew?” Megumi’s voice shook, and you stared at his clenched fists, “You knew who we were and still chose not to say anything?”

You sighed, feeling the slow creep of irritation settle over your shoulders. Yeah, you expected this. You expected anger and disgust. But it still irked you. You were a grown woman, who you slept with wasn’t their business. You’d been with Toji long before you knew them, and you hadn’t exactly approached them because of their identities. In fact, you’d avoided them for months, until Tsumiki had forcibly wormed her way into your heart.

“Yeah, I knew. But what should I have done, huh? It’s not like I could suddenly throw in a ‘By the way, guys, I’m fucking your dad,’ into our every-day conversation, could I?” You huffed. Megumi choked at the word ‘fucking,’ as if it were a bitter pill lodged in his throat. “You could have fixed it, made it so you would never have to tell us in the first place.” “Huh?” “You could have just stopped,” Megumi spat, “it’s not like it’s serious.”

Your jaw dropped. Anger finally flared in your chest. You loved these siblings to death. They were like family, the younger siblings you never had. But Toji also held a special place in your heart, and now, with his ring around your neck and his feelings for you confirmed, you would not let him go. “It is serious, Megumi,” you stated, crossing your arms and leaning your hip against the counter. Megumi scoffed, “Oh, please. Fushiguro Toji has never been serious about anything in his entire life, including us,” he gestured to himself and Tsumiki, whose eyes were wide with shock at Megumi’s behaviour. But Megumi continued, “The only thing Toji cares about is money, you should know that by now. If you think he loves you, you’re just being stupid. You’re nothing but another one of his used whores,” Megumi dripped poison, his eyes cold. In that moment, Megumi had never looked more like his father, spilling words he didn’t mean. You’d long learnt that look, that look of posed disdain, that look Toji saved for his business associates. “Megumi…” Tsumiki pleaded, reaching out to grab at her brother’s shoulder, who was about to speak.

Toji beat him to it, “Ouch, kid. You really know how to hit where it hurts. And here I was being told what a ‘sweet guy’ you are,” Toji leaned against the doorway to your room, dress pants slung low on his hips. He shifted off the doorframe and ambled toward his son, “Now, kid, I don’t mind you talking shit about me, yeah? I’m a greedy asshole and a terrible father, and I’ll admit to it freely. But,” his eyes grew hard, glinting dangerously, “don’t you dare talk shit about my woman, understand? You fuckers don’t know half the stuff she does for you, and you have the fucking nerve to call her a ‘used whore’?” Megumi didn’t back down, “But that’s what she is, isn’t she? At least to you. You probably don’t know a thing about her, you’re just using her.” “Don’t talk like you know me, Megumi, like you know my life. You don’t think I know the woman I’ve chosen to spend my life with? What bullshit.”

You saw the muscles between Toji’s shoulder-blades begin to tighten, a sure sign of an oncoming storm. You approached your lover carefully, and rubbed your knuckles into his back muscles. Green eyes flicked to you, your soft frame pressed into his side, your gentle hands kneading away the growing rage, your eyes watching him. Unknown to him, his children bore witness to their father absolutely melting for you. The corner of his mouth twitched and his frown dissipated. The beast tamed.

Megumi still fumed, a mixture of jealousy and betrayal churning in his stomach. Tsumiki shook at his shoulder. “Megumi, I think we should go,” she glanced at you, “Uh, let me know when it’s safe for me to come back?” she moused. You nodded. And with the open and close of a door, it was over.

xxx

As soon as Toji’s front door closed behind his valet, the tears began. Hot and stinging, they rolled freely down your cheeks as you shakily took a seat on the edge of Toji’s intimidatingly large couch. Toji was in his bedroom, where his valet had placed all of your worldly possessions, stupid cartoon mugs and plushies included.

Everything in the house seemed to be built for Toji – big, tall, male. You doubted you could reach any of the higher shelves in the kitchen, even whilst wearing your stripper heels. You blinked through blurry tears, trying to take in your surroundings, trying to stifle your sniffles and whimpers. Pathetic. The first day in your new home, and you’re sobbing. You looked to the ceiling, clenching your fists and willing the tears away.

“Last time I checked, the art was on the walls, not the ceiling,” Toji snickered, sauntering into the kitchen, “You want anything? We didn’t get to have any coffee -?” he turned to look at you over the counter. You sniffed. Loudly. Toji was at your side in an instant, palms covering yours in your lap, green eyes searching yours as he crouched in front of you. You hung your head, avoiding his gaze. “Hey, hey. Look at me, sweetheart.” Fuck. You could never disobey him. He knew that. You inhaled shakily and looked up, fat tears trickling down your face, eyes already on the way to swelling. “What’s wrong?” Toji scanned around you, suddenly painfully aware of the stark emptiness of his house, a harsh place in comparison to the cosiness of your flat, “is it the house? You know we can fix that, right?” You shook your head, “’s not that,” you mumbled, swallowing down a sob, “’s them.” “Oh. Right. What a fuck-up.”

Then you wept. Harsh, wracking sobs choked from your lips, doubling you over your knees as your ribs heaved. Fuck, you weren’t delicate weeper – part of the reason why you’d never cried in front of any past lovers or roommates, present company included. Crying took your whole body, pain ripping through your chest, blooming thorns from where your heart thumped poison. Whines and keens burst from you, and you curled in on yourself, hiding yourself from the world, from Toji.

You felt his presence in front of you leave, and the pain stabbed you even deeper. Had you expected more? He returned your affection, how could you ask for more from him? But you wanted to expect mor, wanted to bury your face in his chest and let your hurt go, wanted those arms to shield you from yourself.

Thick fingers pried your clenched fist open, and a wad of tissue was stuffed into your hand. You blearily looked up at Toji, who loomed over you with a scrunched, bewildered face. You croaked out a thanks before another wave of tears broke the surface.

Gingerly, Toji wrapped an arm around your waist, and hooked the other beneath your knees. He straightened, and you flopped with your face in his neck as he carried you through the house. You heard, rather than saw Toji open a door with his foot, and then felt him trip slightly, “Damn suitcase, why did the fucker leave it there?” Toji muttered, lowering you onto what you assumed was his bed. The mattress dipped beside you, and you were pulled into Toji, your cheek on his chest, your thighs across his legs, his fingertips running circles over your spine as he sat with you against his headboard.

“You know, I’m pretty shit at this,” Toji started, gruff and awkward, “so you gotta tell me what you need when you’re down, even if you just need someone to shout at, or throw things at, or if you want me to fuck off until you’re better.” You shook your head, clutching onto the front of his shirt, tears slowly soaking the navy material. “This is good,” you whispered, and his arms tightened around you. The pair of you sat like that for a while, and your sobs disintegrated into hiccups and sniffles. Toji said nothing, just continued to rub circles on your back, then, “Uh, you want me to give you a pep-talk or something?” You snorted, and a giggle spilt over your lips. You pulled back to look at him, shocked to see the sincerity behind his smirk. “No, thanks. I don’t think one of your pep-talks would apply to this situation, I’ve heard the way you talk to your men,” you hummed, snuggling back into his chest. “‘Don’t fuck up or I’ll kill you’ gets the job done, though?” “Not when it involves us and your children, Toji.” “’suppose so.” Your hiccups were fading, and your breathing began to even out. “I don’t like seeing you cry,” Toji grouched, and you leaned away to look at him again. “Sorry,” you frowned, but he shook his head. “That’s not what I’m saying, doll. If you’re ever gonna cry, you come to me, yeah? I can’t promise I’ll be much fucking help but I don’t want you crying alone, got it?” You nodded, and reached up to give him a soft kiss on his cheek. It was a risk, giving him constant affection, but when he looked at you like that, like you were the only thing worth fighting for, like you were the only person who could see him without his hackles raised, who were you to deny him your affections? Toji stared steadily into your eyes, reading your emotions, trying to figure out his next move. You kissed him again, this time on his lips. “Thank you, Toji,” you murmured, hand coming up to cup his face, thumb running over his stubble. His hand coming up to pull your face close to his, eyes pouring viridescence into yours, his chapped lips brushing against yours in a featherlight kiss.

“The only thing that should make you cry is my cock, doll,” he murmured against your lips as he scooped you into his lap, settling you so that you straddled his thick thighs. You nodded, falling deeper into his kiss, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth. He kissed you languidly, one hand with its fingers threaded through your hair, the other holding you flush against his chest. You wound your arms around his neck, sighing sweetly into him, his kissing soothing the pain in the hollow of your ribs, the steady thud of his heart starting a fire in your belly.

Toji released you from the kiss, pulling you back and wiping his thumb across your slightly wet cheeks. “What do you say, sweetheart? You gonna let me take care of you? Make you cry over something worth your tears?” Toji’s words were barely audible, rumbling through your body rather than into your ears. You sniffed, unsure. He ran his hands up and down your body, uncharacteristically light as he pressed circles into the flesh of your thighs and lower back. He was warm, and right now, you’d rather drown in his heated strength than sit with the suffocating weight on your heart. “Please, Toji,” you whispered, leaning into him, surrendering. “Please what, my sweetheart? What do you want from me, pretty thing?” he cooed, sending shivers down your spine. “Please, touch me, Toji. Take care of me, please,” Toji pressed his forehead to yours, knuckles running over your cheekbones, “Please, Toji. Love me,” you breathed.

His grip on you tightened at your words, his eyes widening and his breath catching. And then you were on your back, surrounded by his warmth, nestled beneath him, between his arms. Toji eased his weight down over your hips, leaning on his forearms as he brushed hair from your eyes. He reached down to capture your lips in his, enrapturing you in an open-mouthed kiss. Like before, he moved slowly, taking his time to kiss you thoroughly, taste you fully. His kiss left you dizzy, thoughts far off, drifting away in a molten haze. A hand skimmed up your ribcage, below the soft fabric of your sweater. Toji kneaded your breast, flicking his thumb over your nipple as his fingertips pressed into the flesh. His kisses travelled from your mouth, his lips leaving love all across your face, from your cheeks to your forehead, to your nose, to your jaw, where he lapped at your pulse point. You felt yourself sink into the mattress, limbs loose and muscles relaxing.

Toji broke from the kiss, your lips chasing his, a whine caught in your throat. Rough fingertips guided your sweater off, followed by your leggings and underwear. He settled back between your legs and leaned over your torso. His lips traced the darkened love-bites he’d left on your chest last night, and he began to murmur into your skin. “You’re such a pretty girl, hmm. You’re my pretty girl, yeah?” he caught your breast between his teeth, swirling his hot tongue around your nipple. You gasped, gooseflesh rippling over your chest as the cold air brushed over you. “That’s it, give me all your noises, let me hear you be my good girl.”

Toji moved off you, until he rested with his shoulders below your thighs. He kissed and nibbled down your abdomen, pausing with his cheek resting on your inner thigh. Green flicked from your eyes to your exposed cunt, your folds puffy and slick with arousal. “Look at you, so wet for me already. That’s my fucking girl,” your legs jolted around him as he dragged two fingers through your essence, and you flushed when he held up his fingers, opening and closing them to show you the translucent strings that clung to his digits. He watched your face with half-lidded eyes as his hand returned to your cunt, tracing his fingertips lightly over your aching pussy. With each touch, your thighs twitched, closing around his face. His other palm held you open, whilst he gently sucked the skin of the opposite thigh.

Your back arched off the bed as a single digit dipped inside you, your hips bucking, and face burning. Toji began to pump his finger into your heat, his thumb rubbing circles over your clit, each ministration adding fuel to the low fire in your belly. You whined, desperate for more, for that sweet stretch of your walls, for the weight of Toji above you. “More, please, Toji – more,” you keened, forcing yourself still as you fought the urge to fuck yourself onto his finger. Toji released your flesh from his mouth with a pop, licking over the bruise before looking up at you, “What do you want, babygirl?” “Ple-ease, your cock, please, Toji.” Toji tutted, shaking his head, his hair tickling your thighs, finger still slow as it ebbed in and out of your wet pussy. “Not yet, sweetheart. Gotta make sure you’re nice and ready for me, kay? Can you do that for me? Be my good little girl and wait till this tight cunt of yours is ready.” You whined, but nodded, focussing on settling your muscles into a deeper state of relaxation. Toji slipped a second finger in, and you whimpered at the slight stretch. He scissored you open, cooing and praising as you eased up around him. Eventually, he slipped a third digit into your suffocating velvet, groaning at how you clenched around him. His fingers firm inside you, he brushed his fingertips over your walls, pausing when you gasped and moaned at a particular spot. His digits remained there, massaging into your softness, and his mouth came down to suck your clit.

“Fuck! Togi-i,” you mumbled, the pressure in your abdomen building rapidly. Heat flooded your body, rolling out in a wave from your core, pulsing with Toji’s sucking, your fingers wrapped tightly in the sheets.

“That’s it, doll, tell me who makes you feel this fucking good,” he rumbled against you, and you reached down to him blindly, your hand brushing across his face until he grabbed it with his free hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. Cunt squelching, your climax building, Toji worked you steadily towards your climax, tongue lapping down over your folds and back up to your clit, sucking it hard whilst his fingers rocked inside you. The slow fizz of your orgasm began to approach, and you felt your muscles tighten around Toji’s fingers. You squeezed his hand, hard, and whined, “Stop, stop! Please, Toji.” He looked up, mouth glistening and his fingers still deep inside you, pushing up against your spot. “What is it, sweetheart? You don’t wanna cum?” You shook your head, “Wanna cum on your cock, Toji, wanna feel you when I cum, want you to cum with me,” you babbled, cunt clenching at the thought, at the sensation of fullness when Toji came in you.

Toji’s eyes softened, and he placed a kiss on your clit. Leaning back onto his haunches, he made a show of sucking his fingers clean from your slick. You watched with a dazed expression as he pulled his shirt over his head, eyes raking over the planes of his torso, at the way his Adonis belt flexed when he shifted to take his pants off. With his cock in hand, Toji repositioned himself over you, rewarding you with a deep kiss when you spread your legs wider to wrap around his hips. You moaned at the taste of you on his tongue, lifting your hips slightly to catch the head of his cock as he ran his length through your folds. Toji hissed, and with a rock of his hips, his cockhead slipped into your cunt. You both groaned, Toji hunching down to tuck his head into your neck.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you feel so fucking good for me, so fucking wet for me,” he rambled, sinking into you at a snail’s pace. You opened up easily for him, velvet walls plush around his hot length, arousal smearing over his abdomen. Toji moved back and then into you, pushing even deeper, swallowing your moan in a kiss. “I could fuck you all day, doll. You like that?” you nodded, your entire body warm and tingling, “Yeah, you like that? Come home and fuck you over the counter, yeah? Let you warm my cock on the couch, and then fuck you to sleep,” you clenched around him, and he smiled against your lips. “Fuck, all my boys are gonna be jealous, you know? Their boss will have the most beautiful woman on his arm – hah,” Toji paused when you pulsed around him, his pace picking up as he poured praises like liquid gold over you, “Can’t wait to show you off, let those fucking gang-brats know you’re my woman.”

You fell further into bliss, spiralling into molten warmth whilst the fire in your core blazed through your body. Toji rolled into you, even and deep, his bed - your bed - rocking with each thrust. Suddenly, he laced his fingers through one of your hands, and claimed you with his mouth. The fire inside you grew to scorching, and your climax beckoned just out of reach. Toji must have felt you pulse around him, because he began to move quicker, his thrusts now short and deep. Tears formed at the corners of your eyes, and the wave curled closer. Toji reached down, rough thumb moving in rapid circles over your clit, his forehead pressed to yours.

“Come on, sweetheart, cum for me. Be a good girl and cum on my cock,” his breath feathered over you and you came, eyes rolling back as your body shook. Every nerve was alight, melting into fiery warmth, cooled by the tears trickling down your cheeks. Your cunt clung to Toji’s cock, clenching around him until he released inside you, cum filling you until it overflowed into the sticky space between you. Still rocking together, you and Toji panted at each other, until he pulled out from you and tugged you onto his chest.

“See? Told you I could make you cry over something worthwhile,” you squinted at Toji’s cocky smirk, too fucked out to respond. You both lay there for a few minutes, then Toji left you to pad into his en-suite. You listened vaguely to the sound of water running, only stirring slightly when Toji returned to sling your body over his shoulder.

Toji lowered you into the biggest bath you’d ever seen, climbing in behind you as you sunk deeper into the warm water. “This is nice,” you slurred, humming whilst Toji scrubbed your back and washed your hair, “feel like a princess.” “Of course. Only the fucking best for the boss’s woman.’ “Does that include you?” you peered at Toji over your shoulder, smiling at the glint in your lover’s eyes. “What do you think, babygirl?” “I think I’m a lucky woman,” you admitted, and Toji pulled you back against his chest. “Damn right you are,” he grumbled, then, “Welcome home, sweetheart.”

xxx

It had been a week since then, and silence lay in thick tangled ropes between you and the siblings. Tsumiki had returned to an empty flat, the month’s rent stacked in neat piles on the counter, and your room deserted. You’d left, leaving nothing but a thank-you note and that cursed polaroid of all of you at the beach, walking straight out of their lives and into Toji’s.

You’d settled into Toji’s place easily, taking the bare and undoubtedly masculine space and letting little bits of yourself leak into his world. Your boots at the door, your hairpins and toothbrush by the bathroom sink, your mug collection in the kitchen cupboards (moved to be in reach, of course). It was like you had always belonged.

The day you’d returned to work, Monday, you had fully expected a wall of ice to greet you. But the Fushiguro siblings had kept quiet, and if anyone noticed the tense silence between you, they said nothing. Now, seven nights later, you treaded the familiar stairs to the VIP lounge, your eyes glued to the messy waves and curls of Megumi’s hair as he walked in front of you. You fiddled with the hem of your gown whilst you dawdled behind the younger man, watching from below your lashes as he opened and closed the door to the private room. You paused at the threshold, inhaling and exhaling slowly. You straightened out your spine and shook your head, putting on your mask, the figurative wall between you and your customers.

You knocked three times, then opened the door, donning your signature smirk as you languidly entered the room. “Oh?” Getou mused from the couch, tapping the ash from his cigarette and leaving the smoke in the ashtray to stand up. “A treat for us?” Gojo questioned, already sidling across the room to you. “I figured you might want some entertainment whilst we talked,” Toji remained seating, smoke curling around his dark form at the far end of the room. “Much appreciated, Fushiguro-san,” Getou took your hand and kissed your knuckles, “good evening, my princess,” he looked directly into your eyes, lips lingering on your skin. The epitome of a gentleman. His counterpart, the lovable rogue, gave you a wet peck on the cheek, his bright blue gaze already mentally undressing you. “Yes, yes,” Gojo gave you one of his dazzling smile, then stuck his tongue out, “I thought I was going to have to look at Getou all night. Bleh!” You patted them both on the cheek, pushing between them to approach Toji, your eyes never leaving his.

Fuck, it took every ounce of your dwindling self-control to stop yourself from throwing yourself at his feet and begging for his cock. Legs spread, Toji sat in the old armchair as if it were a gilded throne. He swirled a glass of liquor in one hand, a whispering cigarette held carelessly between his fingers. He rested his chin on the other fist, his shirt slightly unbuttoned and his tie loose around his neck.

“Fushiguro-san,” you greeted, and the man grunted, waving you toward the pole installed in the centre of the room. You nodded, and went to quickly set up your music. You turned the volume down low, leaving enough space in the room for the sound of the men’s voices to carry. As you walked yourself around the pole you caught Megumi’s eyes, your lips twitching upwards at the disbelief on his face as he looked between you and Toji. Your music picked up and you began your routine, taking your time to shed the black silk dressing gown from your body before chucking it aside. Getou and Gojo sat, rapt, as you twirled and spun around the pole, whilst Toji stared blankly into the middle-distance, completely unfazed by the gentle rolls and swaying of your hips just a metre or so away from his seat.

Eventually the men began to negotiate, Megumi occasionally snapping his fingers at Gojo when the fair-haired gang leader had zoned out whilst watching you. You hummed along to your songs, ears faintly catching the words as Toji hashed out a deal with the younger bosses, a simple pick-up and drop arrangement for some of the contraband Toji dealt in, Getou and Gojo receiving a cut of the profits for the delivery of the product in their territories. It was a good deal, one that definitely favoured the bikers. But that was all part of Toji’s plan. He wanted to keep his hands out of the dirty aspect of the business, cutting down on ‘employees’, and only working with cold hard cash. Being the biggest mob-boss in the city made that all possible, and Toji was careful with his power.

Negotiations seemed to be going well from your position - upside down and spinning around a pole with your tits on full display - but by the minute clenching of Toji’s jaw and the rapidly decreasing length of his cigarette, it looked like Getou and Gojo weren’t playing ball. Toji wasn’t the only one reaching his limit. The other Fushiguro in the room was openly frustrated, his knuckles white and hair in complete disarray as Megumi continually tried to reign his boss in. You nearly laughed aloud when you heard a sharp, ‘for fuck’s sake, Gojo, could you just shut up!’ and saw Megumi shove a lollipop into Gojo’s mouth in an effort to keep his boss quiet. Toji clearly caught your strangled snort, because emerald green flicked your way for a brief second, followed by a discreet flick of his finger behind his chair, “Watch closely.” Just in time, as your eyes latched onto the flurry of white and tan hands below the table that had been set up for the meeting. You paused mid-move, choosing to flip yourself upright and drop to the floor, gifting yourself the perfect view of Getou and Gojo’s furious signalling.

Gotcha. You watched for a bit, flailing a bit as you made up moves as a reason why you were splayed on the floor. Finally, their message deciphered, you stood up and ended with a flourish, conveniently at the end of one of your songs. This caught the attention of the men of the room, and you gave a fake bow and wiggled your chest at them before turning away and picking your discarded robe off the floor. You shrugged it on after shaking it out, and after readjusting the music filtering through to the lounge from the club, you faced the men.

Once again, Getou and Gojo leapt to their feet to say farewell, Gojo already stretching to reach for the door handle. Instead, you turned to Toji, your gown tied neatly in front of you, your hands held behind you in a parody of innocence. “Fushiguro-san,” you simpered, tilting your head to look at him. Toji made eye-contact and you gave him a slow and deliberate wink. “You got anything else for me, doll?” Toji drawled, smoke spilling from his lips. You nodded eagerly, and Toji shifted in his seat. He patted his leg twice, and, needing no second invitation, you settled yourself across his thighs. “Gentleman?” Toji questioned the other gang leaders, who, still standing, stared at the pair of you. Awkwardly, they regained their seats. Watching them out the corner of your eye, you reached up and cupped your hand around Toji’s ear. “They’re planning on ripping you off,” you whispered. Toji grunted, raising a brow at you. You continued, “They’re going to say they’ve received another offer, make you drive up the percentage of their cut. Of course, the offer is made-up.” “Is that so?” Toji narrowed his eyes at the pair. “Okay, I gotcha. Thank-you, sweetheart,” Toji took a hold of your chin and kissed you on the lips. Gojo audibly gasped. “Off you go,” Toji helped you off his lap, and with a playful smack to your ass, dismissed you from the room. Just as you closed the door behind you, you heard the click of a gun.

xxx

“Is it true?” Tsumiki’s voice snatched you from the bottom of your glass. You looked up from your water, peering at her through the gloom of the bar. She stood along the countertop, wiping down glasses and sneaking glances at you in the far corner. “Is what true?” you asked. “That you kept it a secret to keep you safe?” Oh. Did Toji speak to her? “Mostly,” you tilted your head, chewing on your straw, “Toji was worried that the others around here might try use me as leverage against him if a deal went bad.” “Hm. That’s what he told me too.” Tsumiki scrubbed viciously at a cocktail shaker. “Yeah. That was the main reason. I also wanted to avoid a fuss here,” you tugged down the sleeve of your – Toji’s – jacket, “the boys get rowdy if the dancers have partners. You’ve seen how they get with Maki.” Tsumiki nodded. She began stacking the glassware away, one eye on the few stragglers who still lingered. “You still could have told us. Um,” she stared at the shelf above her, “sure, it would have been a weird conversation, but at least we wouldn’t have found out, er, how we found out,” Tsumiki gave you an apologetic smile. You huffed your head into your hands, “You think I don’t know that? That was easily the most awkward moment in my entire life!” Tsumiki let out a soft giggle, “That was obvious. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so panicked.” “Yeah, that’s ‘cos I was panicking, Tsumiki,” you deadpanned, shifting your glass across the counter to give to her waiting hands. “We all were, really. I think that day brought out the worst of us,” she wrung her hands, “I ran away, you froze up, Dad and Megumi, well…” “Why are Fushiguro men always so keen to fight, huh?” “It’s the Zen’in blood. Makes the women strong and the men stupid,” Tsumiki muttered. You laughed then, catching the spark of mirth in her eyes. You took the moment to extend an olive branch, “Hey, ‘Miki, don’t worry about paying my half of the rent, okay? I’ll cover it until you find a new flatmate or something. I shouldn’t have left like that, but –“ “It’s fine – Hey, it’s fine. Miwa’s gonna move in next month, turns out living with Mai and Momo is trauma-inducing.” “Wow,” you snarked, “who would have thought?” you hummed, “so you’re gonna be alright? The money ain’t a problem. I just think that, between Toji and Megumi, if I went back to the flat, I’d be dead.” Tsumiki nodded. She reached across the counter, placing her hand gently over yours. “Look,” she sighed, “just give Megumi time. He was, still is, in a state of shock.” “I don’t blame him,” you squeezed her fingers. “And he didn’t mean what he said, really.” “I know, ‘Miki. Megumi’s a good kid. It’s just that sometimes the Zen’in part of him acts before he can think, and then we,” you gestured to yourself and Tsumiki, “end up playing peacemaker” “Don’t remind me,” she puffed at a stray piece of hair, “but it’s why we love them, right?” she looked pointedly at you, daring you to agree, to admit your attachment to her father. You admitted easily, nodding.

A comfortable silence fell between you, near the cosy quiet you’d once shared when you’d shared a roof. “Truce?” you extended your hand out, palm up. Tsumiki stared at it, then took a hold of your fingers, curling hers around yours. “I’m not gonna lie to you, it’s gonna take a while before Megumi or I will fully comprehend what happened, what’s happening. But sure, I’ll truce – I never wanted to fight you anyway.” You exhaled in relief, “Thank fuck. I don’t you guys understand how much you mean to me. All of you, including Toji. And I don’t expect you guys to understand, um,” you searched for the words, then gave up, “it’s a really fucking weird situation.”

“At least you can admit to that.” Both you and Tsumiki jumped in fright, Tsumiki reaching across the bar to swat her brother with a towel, “How many times have I told you not to do that, it’s creepy,” she grouched. You examined Megumi, whose face remained deadpan. The sudden clatter of footsteps and hushed curses drew your attention to Gojo and Getou, who were hightailing it out of the bar like the devil himself was coming for them, you supposed it was true. “What’s up with them?” Tsumiki wondered, and you grinned. “They tried to cheat the wrong man,” you supplied and Megumi winced. You listened to their bikes peel away, the rumble of the engines vibrating through the floor behind you. Megumi shoved his hands into his pockets and leaned with his back to the counter. “How’d you know?” he asked sideways, you gave him a wide-eyed glance, “Know what?” “Don’t play coy. How’d you know about the plan? I didn’t even know,” Megumi scowled. You shrugged, “When you’ve played poker against those two as much as I have, you can pick up their signals quickly. As much as they pretend to hate each other, they’re really in sync, but they’re also really obvious,” you offered. Megumi hmphed in response.

“You ready to go, sweetheart?” Toji, like his son, appeared from the dark as quiet as a shadow, causing Tsumiki to jump, again. You lit up, hopping from your seat and shouldering your bag. You blew a kiss goodbye to Tsumiki, and gave Megumi a short wave, before approaching Toji, who was already waiting by the door. Your lover examined your face carefully, searching for tears, but finding a small smile instead. “You okay, babygirl?” he asked, wary. You stretched up to kiss him, your lips brushing over his scar as you linked your arm through his.

“Never better. Let’s go home, Toji.”

#toji x reader #fushiguro toji #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #RoadhouseBluesAU #killingmoon curses #killingmoon n/s/f/w #killingmoonmoon jjk

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lesbian-peanut-writer · 4 years

Text

Erasing Resent

IT’S TIME!!! I’m having so much fun participating in these Collabs, I hope all of you are having fun reading the amazing works that come from them. This is another Collab for the Bnharem Discord Server, the theme that was chosen for this month was Flowers! Head on over and check out the rest of the amazing pieces that have come from the Collab this time the Masterlist was provided by the amazing @jojosmilktea this time and it looks amazing!

I was lucky enough to snatch up the one and only Katsuki Bakugou this time. Here’s hoping you all enjoy the content I have provided for him. Thanks to @lady-bakuhoe for letting me throw ideas at them and sorry I stole your man for the Collab. @pixxiesdust you wanted to be tagged for this, thank you so much for beta reading my story and giving me some pretty awesome feedback! Alright, all you Little Rogues; enjoy the feast!

~Lesbian Peanut

Word Count: 5873

“Babe…” You quirked an eyebrow as you stuck your head around the door, peering into the room when your boyfriend didn’t respond to your call for the umpteenth time. “Hello, Earth to Bakugou.” You called as you crossed the room to where he sat upon the couch, his head hanging in his hands as he sat there in silence. It was unusual for him not to respond to you when you were standing so close to him, he was the Hero known for his sharp reflexes. You knew there was one thing you could do that was guaranteed to grab his attention for sure. “GROUND ZERO!”

Katsuki jolted back to reality, harshly ripped from his deep thoughts by the sound of your voice calling to him. He shot up off the couch in the same instance and whipped around to face you, his eyes locking with yours as they blew wide and filled with alarm. His heart was thundering in his chest as he stared over at you, his hands stretched wide at his sides as he stood ready to fight and little crackles were tingling over the expanse of his palms. His eyes shot away from you, quickly doing a sweep of the room and scanning for a threat before realising there was no one else in the room besides you.

“(Name)…” His voice was barely audible as he spoke your name in a breathless whisper, his eyebrows pulling together out of confusion and frustration as he roughed a hand through his hair. “Babe, what the hell were you thinking?”

“I made tea for you but you weren’t responding to me. I called you several times Katsuki, you seemed to be lost in thought.” You responded as you held up the tray with two piping cups of tea on it, for him to see.

Katsuki flicked his vermillion eyes down to the tray you were holding in your hands, a heavy sigh leaving his lips as he shook his head and turned away from you. He rubbed a hand over his face as he waited for his heart to stop trying to jump out of his chest via his throat. He wasn’t used to being called by his Hero name outside of work, it was something that screamed danger to him whenever it was called out in such a manner. Katsuki rolled his shoulders before dropping back down on the couch, sinking down before patting the spot next to him and turning his head to catch your eyes over the top of the couch.

“Get your damn arse over here woman!” He grumbled as a crooked smile graced his features.

You never were one to argue with the wishes of your boyfriend, after all there usually wasn’t a need for you to argue with anything that he asked of you. “Look at you being all worried over here by yourself…” You teased as you walked around the couch and placed the tray down on the coffee table before sitting on the couch next to him. You tucked yourself into the corner of the couch before motioning for him to move over to your lap so you could give him a massage.

Katsuki grumbled as he shuffled along the couch, sitting in front of you before leaning back against your legs so you’d be able to reach his shoulders properly. You moved your hands up along his shoulders, rubbing and pressing against the spots where you knew he would usually build tension throughout the day. He seemed to be extra tense today though, the muscles throughout his back were all bunched up and his shoulders were hunched up as though he were ready for a war; your shout just now probably was partly to blame for that.

“Are you ok?” You whispered softly as you leaned forwards, moving a hand to cord your fingers through his hair tenderly.

“M’fine… Don’t need your arse worrying over me, damn it!” He grumbled before sitting up, turning to face you before catching your wrist in his much larger hand and pulling it in close to his chest. He sat back against the couch and pulled you in close to his side, allowing you to snuggle in close to his warmth. “I’m the one who does the worrying here, got that (Name)? Don’t you dare go worrying about anyone but your damn self!” Despite his words, you knew he was well aware that you worried about him every time he was called out into active duty.

You giggled as you gently pressed your head into the side of his ribcage, watching as his fingers traced small patterns over the back of your hand. It wasn’t often that you got to see this side of Katsuki, it usually only happened when he had a stressful day at the Agency or something didn’t quite go right while on duty. The rest of the world saw your boyfriend as a brash, impulsive Hero who had the persona more befitting of a Villain. Katsuki had learned to ignore those comments, striving instead to prove those people wrong and making you proud when he saved lives.

“Urgh, I keep forgetting this ugly little thing is still here!”

You blinked as you felt pressure against your right wrist and your eyes instantly flicked down to where his thumb was pressed into your skin. “Hey, no! You do not get to pick on my little flower.” You pouted as Katsuki’s thumb rubbed over the flower that adorned your wrist. “It’s a part of me Katsuki Bakugou and you will accept it.”

“Not likely, this little thing isn’t nearly beautiful enough to represent you. How the fuck could you settle for something so simple and plain looking; it’s gross.” He growled as he turned your hand over, hiding the flower against his stomach as he looked down into your eyes. “I hate it and you know that.”

It was true that you were well aware of Katsuki’s unfound dislike for the small flower but every time you asked him to explain his reason, he would shut down and tell you not to worry about it. “Well, too late. It’s already on my skin and it’s not going anywhere any time soon.” You declared as a small smile pulled at the edges of your lips.

“LIKE FUCK!” You squealed as Katsuki tipped you sideways on the couch and moved over you, his face mere inches from your own as a wildly wicked grin stretched over his face. “I’ll erase that fucker from your mind, I’ll make you forget everything about him and that includes this little piece of shit you call a damn flower.”

“Is someone a little jealous?” You teased as you looked up into his eyes and tilted your head to the side.

“Of that asshole? Like fuck that would ever happen!” He scoffed before moving and sitting back on the couch, grabbing his tea before sipping at it. “One of these days, I’ll fix that damn thing. Mark my words (Name)!” Katsuki was well aware of what the stupid flower on your wrist meant, the fact your ex gave it to you just served to piss him off even more. As vibrantly coloured as the Petunia was, he doubted you knew what it was or the meaning behind it.

“If you say so, Gremlin.” You whispered as you sat up and looked over at him in bewilderment.

“So…”

“Bakugou, are you going to tell me where we’re going yet?” You whined as you flicked your eyes down to where your hand was encompassed by his larger one.

“(Name)… why don’t you go ahead and say my name just a little louder, huh?” Katsuki shot back at you as he looked over his shoulder.

You felt sorry for your boyfriend, he was constantly having to hide his face when he was out in public. As much as Katsuki liked being a Hero to the people of this city, he didn’t like the constant attention that came with it; especially when he was trying to spend time with you. There had been quite a few times you had dragged him away from people crowding him before they were pushing him beyond his limited point of patience.

“Sorry babe, where are you taking me though?” You questioned as you pulled on his hand, coming to a halt as you refused to walk any further and looked up into his eyes.

Katsuki sighed heavily in annoyance as he turned to face you fully, leaning in close to your face as his eyes locked with yours. “Right here.” His words caused confusion to flood your system as you whipped your head around rapidly.

“What? You dragged me out of the house in this cold ass weather to take me to the sidewalk in the middle of nowhere?” You frowned as you turned back to look at him, your eyes blowing wide as you caught sight of him pulling the mask down off his face and jabbed a thumb over his shoulder.

“No idiot. You think I’d do that to myself?” He growled before grabbing a hold of your hand again and pulling you with him as he pushed open the door behind him. “You know, I hate the fucking cold; I can deal with it for this though.”

“Wait babe, what shop are you trying to pull me into?” You whined as you tried to read the name hanging over the door, failing as you were pulled into the warmth coming from inside the shop. “Also, put your damn mask back on. I am not pulling you away from any groupies that want to swamp you!” You huffed before pulling your arm free and crossing your arms over your chest.

“Tch…” Katsuki shook his head before motioning around you to the inner workings of the shop he had taken you to. “Take a really good look, (Name). I think you should be more than capable of working out why the fuck I’d drag you here!” His eyes narrowed in annoyance before flicking down to where your arms were crossed over your chest.

You blinked rapidly before turning on the spot to take in what was going on inside the shop. Your eyes popped wide before snapping back to look at Katsuki at the same moment he grabbed your arm and held your wrist up in front of your face. “You… You’re getting it fixed for me?”

“No! I told you, didn’t I?” I’d erase this damn thing like it never fucking existed!” He growled before pulling you over to the counter in the reception area of the parlour. “It’s getting covered and you’re going to sit through the entire tattoo, you hear me?”

You blinked back tears as you looked down at your wrist where the small flower sat and then back up to his eyes. “Why? Why do you want to do this?” You mumbled as you stuck your bottom lip out, pouting up at him as tears threatened to spill from your eyes. “You didn’t even ask me.”

“No! Don’t you fucking dare cry for that shitty ass flower.” He growled as he cupped your face, leaning in close as he looked into your eyes and passion was the only thing you could make out in the depth of his. “It’s a fucking Petunia, it has a meaning that pisses me off and I bet that asshole of an ex of yours knew the damn meaning behind it! I swear I get my hands on him and being a Hero is going out the window, I hate the meaning of that damn flower. I hate that it’s on your body, I hate that you have something so unsightly staining your beautiful skin! YOU. Deserve. Better!”

You blinked rapidly as you took a shaky breath, sniffling as you searched his eyes. He wasn’t lying to you, for the first time ever he finally told you why he hated the flower and he even managed to compliment you at the same time. “What does it mean?” You whispered as you moved your hands to wipe your tears away.

Katsuki visibly flinched back from you before turning his back on you, his eyes focusing on the man behind the counter as he handed him a piece of paper. “Ask someone else, I won’t fucking say it.”

You stood there in silence while Katsuki talked with the man standing behind the counter, discussing whatever it was on the piece of paper he had handed the man. You swiped at the tears which had started streaking down your face as you stared at the back of the man you loved so much. There was so much love in this man, so much compassion and yet somehow you were the only one who ever managed to see that side of him. There was nothing you wouldn’t do for the man standing in front of you and honestly, you knew the same could be said for him about you.

“Thank you, Katsuki…” You whispered to yourself before moving to hug him from behind. You felt his hot hand come down to rest over yours where it was against his stomach, all the while keeping up his conversation with the other man.

“Thank me when this is all over.” He muttered back to you before pulling free from your grip and leading you off to a room where a station was already set up awaiting you. Trust your boyfriend to have heard what you had said to him, his hearing was some of the best you’d ever come across. “I’ll come back and grab you when it’s all done, alright (Name)?”

“Wait, you’re not staying here with me for the whole thing?” You asked quickly as you looked up at him pleadingly.

“I’ll still be within the vicinity but there is no way you’re going to get me to sit in that cramped ass room with two other people in there.” Katsuki grumbled as he crossed his arms over his chest, a wicked grin pulling at his lips as a fire sparked to life in his eyes. “Unless my little flower is scared?”

“Get fucked! I’ll sit through this like a champ, you go off and be by yourself.” You shot back as you screwed your face up at him, your eyes narrowing at the challenge he had been throwing your way.

Alright, make sure to cry out for me if it gets unbearable.” He chuckled before diving in to plant a tender kiss against your forehead and then turned to leave the room; leaving you standing there with the artist.

“Shall we get this baby started then, Miss?” You blinked as you turned around to look over at your artist, smiling at him as you steeled yourself for what was about to happen.

“Yeah, let’s get this done. I want to see what that Gremlin picked out for me.” You announced before moving over to the station to get comfortable and allow the artist to start on the tattoo.

It had been a while since your first tattoo and honestly you barely remembered anything about it. This one stung a bit at first, the feeling of the needle against your skin as he started working on your tattoo. The pain from your wrist radiating up your arm for a while until eventually the pain numbed down to a dull buzz and you settled into a trance like state. You were zoned out from everything else in the room, too focused on the intricate lines that were being etched into your skin and forming a beautiful scene. You watched the artist in awe as he fluently and effortlessly made his way up along your forearm, decorating the skin in lines and splashes of colour. Flowers, you could tell they were flowers he was putting on your skin but you couldn’t make out what kind.

The vision of flowers being put onto your skin, had a prior question springing to your mind. You looked up from the work being done to your arm and focused on the artist sitting next to you. “Hey, do you have knowledge of what flowers mean?” You asked, hopeful that this man would be able to give you the answer you were looking for.

“Sure do, in our line of work it tends to pay off knowing that sort of thing. Helps us when we’re putting designs together for people too.” He answered as he looked up from your arm, moving to switch the needle over on the machine. “Why’s that sweetheart?”

You felt uneasy about asking this man the question that was bugging you, but you needed an answer and your boyfriend had made it painfully clear that you weren’t going to get it from him. “What is it? The meaning behind a Petunia.”

The man was silent for a moment as he took a shaky breath and sat back in his seat, looking you dead in the eyes. “I was warned you might ask me that question by Mr Bakugou. I’ll be honest with you; I didn’t think he meant it when he said you didn’t know what the meaning was.” He muttered as he took a moment to finish up with the tattoo gun before dipping it back into a small pot of vibrant red liquid. “Resentment and anger. To give a Petunia to someone is to say you are angry at them or that you resent them for something.”

You were silent as you stared at the man sitting beside you, not even feeling it when he went back to working on your tattoo. You understood everything now, why Katsuki had been so damn angry all this time about seeing the flower on your wrist. You couldn’t help but to smile as you looked down to the new tattoo covering your old one, Katsuki was doing you a favour and you would make sure to repay him for that.

The rest of the tattoo went by without a hitch, the two of you managing to strike up a conversation as you watched and he worked effortlessly. It turned out your artist was a rather big fan of the Hero Ground Zero and apparently your boyfriend had taken it upon himself to come here first while in his Hero uniform. It all kind of made sense to you now, how your boyfriend was able to just walk into a shop and ask for a tattoo; he’d already been here. Honestly, you weren’t the least bit surprised and it was just like Katsuki to suss a place out before making a decision.

By the time the tattoo was finally finished, your forearm was tingling from having been stabbed with a needle constantly but the finished piece was worth it in your mind. You stared in awe at the finished piece as you looked it over in the mirror, the colours were perfect and the flowers looked beautiful placed in the order they were. “Thank you, they all look so perfect.”

“I’m pleased to hear that you like it so much.” Your artist practically chirped as he smiled over at you. “Now, I’ll just go grab the big guy and get his approval on the piece. Hopefully my work will live up to his expectations too.”

There were nine different flowers decorating the length of your inner forearm, each one as intricate as the next. They weren’t all the same size either, some of them were no bigger than your thumb nail while others covered a fair amount of your skin. You smiled as you traced your fingers gingerly over the delicate flowers that adorned your skin, impressed with how real they actually looked.

“You’re not supposed to touch it, idiot!”

“But it’s so pretty, Gremlin.”

“Tch…” Katsuki scoffed as he stepped into the room, moving over to your side and pulling your hand away from your arm as he spun you to face him. “I didn’t get it for you just so you could get it infected before we even get home, damn it!”

You giggled as you tilted your head back, peering up into his face as you intertwined your fingers with his. “Thank you, for covering it.” You whispered as you reached up on your tiptoes and kissed his jaw tenderly. “I asked him what it meant, I’m kind of glad to have it gone now.” You admitted as you looked down at the new flowers that embellished your skin in place of the piece of shit that had been there before. “These new ones are so much better.”

“Of course, they are. I fucking chose them!” Katsuki declared as he smirked down at you, leaning in to kiss the top of your head before moving out the way and letting the artist finish up with the tattoo.

He stood silently in the doorway while your tattoo was washed over once more before being wrapped so it wouldn’t get dirty on your trip home. Katsuki pulled you in close under his arm as he walked with you out to the reception area of the parlour, paying for the tattoo as he chatted with the artist. The work obviously had Katsuki’s tick of approval because he was nice enough to leave the man with a memento that Ground Zero had been in his shop, signing over the top of the counter as the man asked him to do.

You stuck close to Katsuki’s side as you walked back towards his house with him, your arm starting to ache now as you kept it tucked up close to your chest and tried not to let the cold wind brush against it. “So, did you ask him what they meant too?”

You were snapped out of your thoughts at the question your boyfriend suddenly threw at you. “Wait… what?” You whimpered as you looked up at him quickly. “You mean there is more than one meaning to this tattoo, other than just covering up the old one?” You asked, dumbfounded by the revelation.

“Of course!” Katsuki grumbled as he shook his head. “Did you really think I would get you a new tattoo and not have the damn thing mean something?”

“I thought it was just a cover up of the old one…” You whispered as you looked down at your arm, puzzled over what the meaning behind it could possibly have been.

“I don’t half-ass this kind of shit, (Name).” Katsuki shot back as he flicked your forehead roughly “Figure it out for yourself what it means and don’t you dare cheat by asking him either!”

Katsuki sighed heavily as he stepped over the threshold to his house, relieved with finally being able to relax now that he was done with being a Hero for the day. It took a moment for him to register that something about his arrival home wasn’t quite right and then it hit him like a tonne of bricks; it was too silent! He screwed his face up as he waited for you to call out to him, your usual ‘welcome home” something he looked forward to and otherwise missing in the moment.

“Babe?” He called out into the house, waiting for you to respond to him.

When silence was all that greeted him in response, his fighting response was automatically kicked into high gear. He moved through the house quietly, managing not to let his boots make any noise as he headed deeper into the house. He stopped as the sound of ruffling pages caught his attention and he whipped his head around instantly towards the kitchen. Katsuki held his breath as he stalked towards the kitchen, ready to kick ass if the situation called for it.

His face fell as he caught sight of you bundled up, books scattered all over the table and a few even littering the floor. He shook his head as he moved over to you, arching an eyebrow as he saw the books were all to do with flowers. “So, this is what made you too busy to welcome me home?” He teased as he leaned down over you and kissed the top of your head.

“Welcome home…” You mumbled subconsciously as you flipped the pages of the book in front of you.

Katsuki narrowed his eyes before snatching the book out from between your fingers, waiting for you to register just who exactly it was that you had been choosing to ignore. He peered down at the pages of the book, it wasn’t hard for him to put two and two together; he knew what you were doing. “Is my little flower struggling?”

You blinked as realisation finally set in and you whipped around in your chair, leaning your head right back so you could look up at your boyfriend. “Babe…” You whispered softly as you leaned against the table. “Shit… fuck, I’m sorry. Welcome home!”

“Tch… bit late now idiot.” He muttered as he moved to sit down at the table with you, shoving a stack of the books over the edge and smirked as they hit the floor. “Now, do you need help? You’ve been at this for damn weeks.”

You sighed in defeat as you flung your arm out towards your boyfriend before letting it fall down onto the table. “I’ve looked and I’ve looked but I just can’t figure out what sort of flowers these are babe. Please, just tell me what they are?” You pleaded with him as you looked over at his face.

“Fine but only because you’re going to annoy me if I fucking don’t help you.” He growled before dragging his chair around the table to sit next to yours, grabbing your arm and bending it towards you. “For starters, try starting from your wrist and make your way up your arm.”

“I tried that; it doesn’t make a difference though when I still don’t know what the flowers are.” You whined as you looked at him, leaning into his side as you pouted.

“Shut up, I was getting there!” Katsuki growled as he flicked your nose. “Why are you so impatient, (Name)?” He teased before moving his right hand to touch the flower that covered your wrist. “Begonia, that’s what this is called. It has the symbolism of being cautious or aware.”

“Cautious and aware?” You queried as you turned your head to look up at him. “Really? That’s not me in the slightest though, babe.”

“No, but it sure is me.” He whispered as he traced his finger over the petals of the flower. “You made me more aware and cautious when I left the house. I was reckless, so very reckless before I met you but now, I’m more aware and cautious while I’m on the job. Because of you!”

You blinked as you sat up straighter, leaning in as you watched Katsuki trace the petals of the flowers. Of course, he had never said what the meanings of the flowers had pertained to but you hadn’t been expecting it to be something like that. Were all of the flowers relating to something similar as that? Did Katsuki pick flowers that symbolise things about your relationship with him that actually meant something to him?

“Aquilegia, it’s the uncommon name for it but I like it better. It stands for happiness and if you make me explain that to you, I’m going to fucking smother you.” Katsuki growled as he shot you a warning glare.

“No need, I make you happy but you also make me happy. I guess the flower represents the happiness that we bring each other in our relationship.” You whispered as you moved your hand to touch the flower tenderly.

“Yeah, something like that.” He muttered before sliding his finger up along your arm further. “Kalanchoes, would have had better luck finding these two in a succulent book. They represent endurance but more importantly they mean lasting affection. I’m not about to just stop loving you out of nowhere, so you better not try to do that to me either! You’re stuck with me and you’re going to have to accept that, (Name)!”

You smiled as you moved your finger along your arm, following after Katsuki’s as you poked at the smaller flower. “Yeah, I can accept that but your crazy arse is stuck with me too.”

“Ursinia, it means innocent love.” Katsuki continued as he tapped on the next flower along your arm. “You can’t even fucking argue with me that you’re innocent as all fuck. You are the innocent love of my life, deal with it.”

“Getting really sappy there, babe.” You teased as you kissed his jaw.

“Shut up, I can stop right now if you want me to!” He threatened as he narrowed his eyes and made to move his hand away from your arm.

“NO! I’ll behave, please don’t.” You whispered as you leaned forwards more and pointed to the next flower. “What are these ones?”

“Those are Gardenias, want to guess what those ones mean?” Katsuki shot as he smirked down at you, moving his other hand to tuck your hair behind your ear. He chuckled as you shook your head and looked over at him pleadingly, your silence all he needed for him to continue. “They mean sweetness, joy and purity.”

Ok, that was pretty self-explanatory, Katsuki would probably murder you if you tried to ask him to explain it to you anyways. You watched his finger closely as he traced along the petals slowly, his finger gracing over one of the many butterflies that also adorned your arm. You were going to ask him about those too, you wanted to know whether there was meaning behind the butterflies as well or whether he just threw them in there for decoration.

“The little flower here is called an Osmanthus or an Olive flower, it symbolises peace.” He whispered as he shifted in his seat slightly and rubbed his finger over the small flower. “You bring peace to everyone who comes into contact with you but you bring peace to my entire fucking life. I never thought I’d be able to find someone who would make me feel at peace when I come home, but you certainly do.”

You smiled as tears started to prick at the corners of your eyes, trying desperately not to start crying while Katsuki explained the meaning of the flowers to you. Each flower just made the entire tattoo a little more meaningful to you but you knew the meaning held so much more importance to Katsuki. “And the last one?”

“Ulex, it means protection and hope.” He admitted as he smoothed his hand over the last of the flowers. “Protection because you are mine to protect, I’ll be damned if I ever let a single thing happen to you!”

“What about hope then?” You whispered as you turned in your seat to look at him fully.

“You… You gave me hope. Hope that I could be a better person than what I used to be, hope that I could be the best Hero the people needed.” He admitted as he leaned in and kissed your cheek tenderly.

You smiled as you thought over all the names of the flowers, tracing your finger back over all of them as tears slipped down your face. You were happy, the flowers Katsuki had given to you were so much better than what that other thing had given to you. These flowers were special, they held proper meaning and they were there to stay. You frowned as something dawned on you, the names of all the flowers, there was something about them that struck you as odd.

“Begonia, Aquilegia, Kalanchoe, Ursinia, Gardenia, Osmanthus and Ulex…. B, A, K, U, G, O… YOU fucking didn’t!” You jumped up away from the table as you realised what your boyfriend had done to you. “Did you really just spell your name out, on my skin, using flowers?”

Katsuki shrugged as he looked over at you. “Problem?”

“Ah…. I’d say yes but I’d be lying and I know you hate liars.” You mumbled as you placed your hands on your hips. “How dare you make me wait weeks to find out that your name is on my arm in the form of flowers!” You huffed as you plopped back down in your seat and looked down at your arm. “I can’t believe you did that.”

“Might as well get used to it.” Katsuki muttered as he stood from the chair, a grin planted on his face as he kissed the top of your head. “One of these days, it’s going to be your name!”

You didn’t think anything more of the conversation until a couple of weeks later, your friends had come screaming to you about something or another and practically threw their phones in your face. It had taken you a moment to realise that they had said Bakugou and interview in the same sentence. You started the video as your friend held the phone for you, her hand shaking as she practically jumped up and down on the spot. You tried desperately to listen to what the reporter was saying to your boyfriend but unfortunately something else in the video was grabbing your attention.

There on Katsuki’s left arm was an arrangement of flowers, each one bursting with life and formed perfectly as though they were real. You stared at the flowers before looking down at the ones on your arm, they looked like they were done by the same person. You thought back to that day instantly, the fact Katsuki had left you in that room for hours on end and disappeared for the entire time. Was it possible that he had gotten a tattoo of his own on that day? Why hadn’t he said anything to you about it since then? Was it fresh or had he been hiding it on purpose?

“Mr Ground Zero, I have to ask what is with all the flowers on your arm?” Your attention snapped back to the tiny screen in front of you and you watched as an almost feral grin spread over your boyfriend’s face.

“(Name), that’s what’s with it.” He declared as he turned his arm to show the tattoo off a little better.

“(Name)?” By this stage your friends were practically screaming in your ears and you were trying your hardest to listen to what was being said.

“Yeah, that’s the name of my future fucking wife!” He growled out as he smirked victoriously.

Whatever else was said was lost to you. All sound seemed to have disappeared for you and the only thing you could think about was the fact Katsuki had just declared he was going to marry you on national television. Your heart was thundering in your chest as your knees went weak and you sunk down to the ground before you fell. Your head was spinning as a conversation from several weeks prior came rushing back to you, the final words from your boyfriend ringing loud in your head.

“Might as well get used to it. One of these days, it’s going to be your name!”

#katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #scenario #fluff #flower collab #collab #bnha imagines #mha imagines #boku no hero academia imagines #my hero academia imagines #lesbian peanut writer

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waiting4inspiration · 3 years

Text

Tell Them II (Ivar x reader)

Summary: Confessing the secrets you kept doesn’t go so well for you and you learn that you’ve trusted the wrong person. Ivar says he’ll never love again, but might it be because he still love you?

Warnings: oh boy, angsty, little fluff, mentions of murder, mentions of torture, mentions of blood, strong language, mentions of whipping, I feel like I’m missing something...

Word Count: 3,763

A/n: I took inspiration from the song I’ll never love again by Lady Gaga. You can listen to it while or before reading this if you want to.

Part 1 Here II Vikings Masterlist

The King has been like a father to you since you joined him as his spy. It is why you are allowed to call him by name - Weset - on almost all occasions and why there’s no real formality between you and him. It’s why when he found you crying, actually crying, in your chambers that night that you confessed your heart out to him. And in doing so, told him all the things you kept secret from your original report.

It’s why you ride next to him in the morning to meet Ivar and his brothers in a clearing to discuss everything that wasn’t said last night.

The stern look on your face has everyone fooled. No one would think that you cried through the night or that you barely got any sleep. It probably helps that there are a bit of clouds covering the sun to hide the redness of your eyes. Even Ivar is impressed at the stone-cold expression on your face as you walk towards him and his brothers after dismounting your horse.

You glance up at Ivar for a moment when you come to a stop a few feet from him and his brother, but you find that he’s not looking at you. Instead, he has his eyes fixed on King Weset and the two guards behind him. That’s when you look up at Hvitserk who is looking at you. All he does is shake his head; as if to tell you that Ivar’s not handling what happened well.

“Let’s not drag this out for too long, King Ivar,” Weset starts. You know it’s because he knows what he wants and doesn’t want to waste time getting to it. “I know you are here to form an alliance. And who wouldn’t want to be in cohorts with the Sons of Ragnar Lothbrok? But I must ask what I will be getting out of the alliance.”

This is where you get bored. You never enjoyed the bargaining, the deal being made between Kings, Jarls, or any other man. It might be because you always know how it’s going to turn out because the person on the other side of the stick is the one that you were told to study and you know what they’ll be willing to give up.

With Ivar, you don’t have the heart to think about that. If what he said last night is true, then you know that there is nothing Weset can do to make him look like a fool.

“What is it that you’re looking to get out of it?” Ivar asks back as he shifts in his seat, his voice cold and almost snappy. You’re the only one that knows that it’s the wrong response for King Weset.

The King beside you chuckles making your head turn up to him as he shakes his head. “Perhaps now is the time I tell you that I know far more about you than I did last night,” Weset states, his words making your heart drop in your chest and your head to turn to Ivar.

Ivar glares at you. He knows now that you did as he said. You told Weset everything you kept secret including your relation with him. You revealed the weaknesses no one has ever found out because the only one that figured it out was you. Because he allowed you to.

But Weset’s next words aren’t ones that you ever expected to hear. “Seize her.”

“What?”

You and Ivar question at the same time just before the two guards behind Weset move behind you and grab your arms. Hvitserk and Ubbe pull out their weapons but are stopped by Ivar as he raises his hand, his eyes narrowing at Weset and his body leaning a bit forward. “You see, Ivar the Boneless, I have your heart,” Weset states, holding his hand out to gesture to you while you continue fighting to get out of the guards’ grip. “And if I don’t have an offer from you tomorrow, I will break it.”

Looking over to Ivar with wide eyes that now start to well up with tears, you see his eyes flicker over to you for a moment before he looks back at Weset. He gulps, grips the arm of his chair tightly, and breathes out a long breath. “You would never kill your best spy,” Ivar says, calling the bluff he thinks Weset is pulling.

“Did I say kill?” Weset laughs as he takes a few steps forward, you struggling against the grip of the two guards now stopped as you watch what’s happening in front of you. “When the sunsets today, you’ll hear her screaming for mercy. Mark my words. Maybe it will make you think of an offer quicker,” he mentions, your eyes growing wide in terror when he turns back around to you.

The guards lead you to your horse and force you to climb onto it while holding the reins to make sure you don’t decide to escape. “You son of a bitch,” you sneer at Weset when he mounts his horse.

He gives you a sly smile before ordering his horse forward, you and the two guards following. In a last effort of help, you turn your head over your shoulder to look back at Ivar sitting in his seat.

He’s staring at you with, dare you say it, worry in his eyes.

You weren’t placed in a cell like you thought you would be, considering that your King had you seized a few moments ago. Instead, you were taken back to your room as if nothing happened. Weset closes the door behind him, sighs as he walks towards you but you slowly step away from him until your back hits the wall.

“I trusted you,” you sneer, pressing your hands against the wooden wall and your teeth grinding together as he continues to walk closer to you.

“A big mistake,” he chuckles, stops when he’s just about in front of you and folds his hands in front of me. “Did you really think I wouldn’t expect something like this to happen sometime? You’re a woman. It was bound to happen that you would fall in love with one of my targets. How fitting that it would be the almighty-”

“Shut up!” you shout, push yourself off the wall to rush across the room to put more distance between you and him. “I told you the secrets of my heart and you’re using it against me? Against him?” Your voice breaks as you speak, your chest heaving as you try to push down the feeling of your heart being ripped apart. Again.

Weset rolls his eyes at you and takes one step forward. “Don’t make such a big deal of it,” he murmurs, turns to the pitcher of water on the table and lifts it to pour some water into a cup. “When the sun rises tomorrow, you will be a better spy with no one holding you back,” he says, lifting the cup to his lips and takes a sip as you frown up at him. “You’ll never love anyone again.”

You’re shocked at his words because they were the words you used when you poured your heart out to him.

“Even if Ivar gives you an offer?” you softly question, your head dropping between your shoulders and your gaze staring at your hands that you fold in front of you. You feel like a complete and utter idiot for falling into love with Ivar and then for telling Weset all the truth. You should have kept that to yourself. It was the right choice in the beginning and you fucked up.

Weset chuckles, places the cup back on the table and walks towards you. “Whatever that cripple offers won’t be what I want,” he states, your head snapping up in defense when you hear him calling Ivar ‘cripple’. You’ve often defended Ivar when someone called him that when you were in Kattegat, and you can’t help but want to carry on with that now. “I think the title of King of Kattegat will do good for my reputation.”

He plans to kill Ivar, you can see it in his eyes. You can see the thought turn in his mind and you can’t believe that you were so blind in the sorrow of your heartache to notice that. When he reaches out to touch your cheek, you take a step away from him and shake your head. “You have a choice here, (Y/n),” he begins, his hand that had the intention of touching you curling into a fist as he takes a step closer. “Obey me and help me now and I’ll spare your life. You can be the greatest spy anyone has ever seen. And maybe, I can make you more than a spy,” he offers.

Your mouth drops in shock as you take a step away from him. You can’t believe all this is happening because you did as Ivar told you to do. You told Weset everything you didn’t- everything you wouldn’t tell him. Shaking your head, you drop your head and close your eyes to stop the tears from leaving them. “I stand by what I said last night,” you say, trying with all your might to sound confident even if there is a small break in your voice when you lift your gaze up at him again.

Weset sighs, shakes his head in disappointment and bites his lower lip as he shrugs his shoulders. “Well, that’s a shame.”

Then, he brings the back of his hand across your face, sending you to the ground and yelping in pain when his royal ring cuts straight across your cheek. And before you can push yourself up, he grabs you by the collar and starts dragging you across the floor towards the door.

You know exactly where he’s taking you.

The camp is silent. It has been ever since the screaming started. People only know who’s screams they are because Hvitserk let it slip and the news spread like wildfire around the camp. It suddenly became a question of why they chose to set up camp so close to Weset’s holding.

It’s screams of torture. Everyone knows that. And when it sounds like they’re finished, the screams start again a few moments later. They can only imagine what must be happening to cause the bone-chilling sound.

Ivar can’t stand thinking about that. He knows it’s you. He knows from Weset’s words earlier that day, but he didn’t actually think he’d carry them out. Ivar thought that you were like a precious jewel to Weset and that he would never harm you. Apparently, he thought wrong. Even though he told you that he was ready for anything, he definitely was not ready to hear your screams echo through the sky.

It’s been quiet for a while now and Ivar hasn’t even thought of something to offer Weset. All he could think about were the times he cherished with you. The moments he could look into your eyes and feel as if he was in Valhalla already. Times where he thought that there was nothing you could do to break his heart because of how much he loved you.

The times where he was a fool to let someone get so close to him.

“You have to do something about this, Ivar,” Ubbe demands as he barges into the tent a few moments after the screaming started again. This time, it’s clear that the person screaming is in tears too.

Ivar glances up to Ubbe with a cold look on his face and folds his arms over his chest as he leans back in his seat. “I have to do something? Why must I do anything about this?” he asks back with a sneer, tilts his head to the side as he narrows his eyes at his older brother.

“Because you were talking about making her your wife not so long ago and you still love her no matter what you say,” Ubbe responds quickly, moving closer to Ivar when he rolls his eyes. “Don’t deny it, Ivar. You say you won’t love again because you are still in love with her-”

“She was a spy. Or weren’t you paying attention, Ubbe?” Ivar snaps at him, aiming to make him back off. But he doesn’t. Ubbe just stands there, arms folded over his chest and a raised eyebrow on his face.

Sighing, Ivar pushes himself off his seat and to the ground so he can leave this conversation seeing as Ubbe won’t leave it to an end. “She loved you,” Ubbe says, making Ivar freeze and stare at the ground. “We all could see that she did. And maybe she still does. She might have been a spy, but her affections weren’t an act before she left.”

Ivar’s jaw tenses at his brother’s words as his head drops between his shoulders. It’s quiet between them for a moment before Ubbe sighs, shakes his head to himself, and turns to walk out of the tent, leaving Ivar alone at the realization that the conversation won’t go anywhere from there.

Turning over so he can sit, he stares at his hands as Ubbe’s cursed words float around in his mind. It’s hard to pin-point the moment your faked affection became true. If Ubbe says that everyone could see you loved him, then he can’t say that you didn’t. And though he can’t pinpoint the moment, he does remember that glimmer in your eyes suddenly changing the one day. He remembers it, can’t say when that happened.

Then, he finds himself playing through the memories of the times he’s spent with you. The time where you bested his brother in a duel with a smile on your face. The time where he would stare into your eyes as you told him stories that he doesn’t know now how true they are, but he was still lost in them. The times where you would make him feel like any other man other there and like he could do anything.

He’s so caught up in these memories that he doesn’t realize your screams have stopped, that it’s been quiet for way too long before there’s a commotion in the camp until someone barges into the tent, urgently calling his name and looking at him as if he had seen the Goddess Hel herself.

“It’s (Y/n).”

The last time your eyes were open, you were begging for the pain to end with tear-stained cheeks and your feet barely keeping you standing. You were counting on the chains around your wrists that had you bound to a pillar from keeping you off the ground. And you remember the pain rising up inside you like a heatwave before everything went black.

There are small things you remember, but it’s almost like they’re part of a dream. The man who stands in front of your room, guarding it at night and the chambermaid you’ve formed a small friendship with; both sneaking you through hallways and out of Weset’s holding.

Now, you’re lying on your stomach, in a place you’ve never seen, a tent you’ve never been in. You know your back is open from the gentle dabbing of material again your wounds. Each gentle touch makes you remember how you received the cut and the ‘crack’ that comes with it. It makes tears fill your eyes and you whimper in pain as you turn your face into the pillow your head rests on.

Turning your head to the side, you see bloodied cloths that has been tossed to the side. You don’t need to be told it’s your blood, but the thought only makes you cry more. The healer thinks your sobs are from the pain and tries to comfort you, but no one can heal the true pain you feel.

All this happened because you fell in love. If this is what happens when you love, you don’t want to love again. Even though you know that this is Weset’s intention, you will easily let him win.

The frantic buzz around you seems to die down but the healer continues to work on the lashes on your back. You feel eyes on you, running up and down your broken skin as a familiar sound makes your eyes squeeze tightly shut. The sound of someone crawling on the ground, dragging their lower body behind them.

You know it’s Ivar.

What Ivar doesn’t know as he makes his way closer towards you is that you’re awake. He thinks you're unconscious, considering the number of wounds he counted on your back... Gods know how many others there are.

Your skin is clammy, but it’s the tear on your cheek that has Ivar’s attention and it’s the reason he reaches up to touch your face. You jump at his touch and your eyes snap open. They’re red. Ivar hates that because it knows that it means you have been crying.

“Ivar,” you whisper as he moves away from you. And what you thought would be affection turns into hostility. His face changes, reminding you that he hates you. He doesn’t love you and why should he? You were caught up in the happy memories you had with him to remember that all that is now in the past.

“What are you doing here, (Y/n)?” he questions, pulling his legs in front of him as he sits, his arms then folding over his chest as he glares at you with those cold eyes.

You shake your head, because you don’t exactly know what you are doing here. You exactly know how you got here in the first place. “Weset is planning on killing you no matter what offer you give him,” a voice says at the entrance of the tent, making both yours and Ivar’s head turn. It’s your guard, the one you vaguely remember sneaking you out the holding. “He’ll attack tomorrow at dusk.”

Ivar rolls his eyes, which you catch. “It’s true, Ivar,” you whisper, knowing that Ivar doesn’t trust the word of a stranger. But maybe you can convince him. “Weset wants to be King of Kattegat and he won’t stop at anything to get what he wants,” you add, his eyes shifting up to you.

“And you will walk away unharmed-”

“He’ll kill me too,” you cut him off, so used to being able to freely speak to him without any repercussions. But when he narrows his eyes at you, you immediately shrink into yourself, quietly hissing as the healer starts to apply some kind of paste to your wounds.

Ivar scoffs at your words, chuckles to himself as he shifts in his spot. “Weset would never kill his beloved spy,” he hisses, glaring at you and making your heart break a bit. “You’re lying. Again. And I’m sick of your lies,” he states as he moves to leave.

“Do you want to know what I told him?” you question. He stops, slowly looks at you and you shift so that your eyes meet his. “Yes, I told him everything I didn’t tell him as you told me I should. But do you know what else I confessed to him that made him realize I’m really your weakness and you’re mine?”

He doesn’t say anything, but you can see that he wants to know. He wants you to tell him. He’s not sure if you should with the healer and a few other people still in the tent, but you don’t seem to care as you slowly lift yourself onto your arms, lifting your head off the pillow you’ve cried into. “When I first met you, it wasn’t my intention to fall in love with you. I was supposed to get close, be a friend, someone you trusted. But I never thought I’d find myself lying in your arms, completely in love with you,” you confess, making Ivar breathe in deeply and his hands tightly curling into a fist.

“I thought that after leaving Kattegat, I’d move on, but I couldn’t get you out of my mind. It became so bad that I never want to feel anyone else’s touch,” you continue, your voice breaking slightly as tears start to build up in your eyes. “I don’t want to start something with anyone else, I don’t want to know what it’s like to kiss someone else, or have another’s name falling off my lips.”

Ivar swallows deeply at your words, at the tears that fall down your cheeks, and at the quiver in your words. “I don’t want to love anyone else. And I will never love again, because I’m still in love with you.”

“You say you won’t love again because you are still in love with her.” Ubbe’s words come back to Ivar after you’ve spoken, making his head drop between his shoulders as his eyes stare at his hands as the words in his mind replay over and over.

He doesn’t say anything. You’ve confessed your love in front of a handful of other people and Ivar doesn’t say anything. It makes your heart sink in your chest and the hope that he says something similar to what you had said fades away. “I wish I didn’t break your heart or your trust,” you whisper as you fall back onto your stomach.

This time, you turn your head away from him to hide the growing tears in your eyes. You fear that looking at him longer will break your heart past repair.

Ivar stares at the back of your head, licks his lips as he swallows past the dry lump in his throat before he moves to exit the tent again. No one makes eye contact with him or says anything. Before he leaves, he stops for a moment and turns his head over his shoulder to look at you.

His gaze falls on your hand as the healer moves your arms to rest at your sides. He remembers how you used to run your fingers through his hair, how he loved that. “I’ll never love anyone else because of you,” he softly says, but in the quiet, you hear his words.

It’s what he said to you the previous night, when he told you to confess the secrets you’ve been keeping from your King. But they have a different meaning this time. You can tell from his voice and from the way his eyes soften when you turn your head to look back at him.

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ravennm84 · 4 years

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Career Advice

Hi everyone!! This story was inspired by a news anchor that I saw on TV, and thought to myself “what would happen if Alya asked that woman for an internship and showed that woman the Ladyblog.” There wasn’t originally going to be Alya redemption, but I decided that the girl needed some love too. Warm-Fuzzies and please enjoy!!

Alya was practically vibrating in her chair as she sat in the reception area of TVi News. She had heard from Aurora and Mireille that there was a summer internship opening and that she should submit an application. She had spent an entire week working on her resume with her mom’s help, citing her blog as experience. Her mother had told her that she might want to double check all her stories before going in, but already knew that she’d be fine. After all, she was an awesome reporter.

There were four other people in the room with her, and she was definitely the youngest. Two of them looked like they were university age and the other two probably attended lycee. That meant that they likely had a bit more experience than she did, but Alya was confident that her blog would set her up for the win. Not only that, Lila had put in a good word for her with the higher ups of TVi News. All she had to do was nail the interview and the internship was hers!

It was about an hour and two interviews before her turn came. Holding her head high; she grabbed her tablet and portfolio, straightened her skirt, and walked in as smoothly as she could in her heels.

The person conducting the interview was Claudia Ramonte, a no-nonsense kind of woman that always seemed to be on a deadline. She preferred people always be on-point and despised people that wasted her time. She was a legend in the industry, she had been an investigative journalist for over 20 years before going into semi-retirement by helping run the company and hiring new journalists. It was said that she had an eye for who had talent and who was just playing journalist. And if you fell into the latter or made the mistake of insulting her craft, you could kiss any hopes of making it big in the industry goodbye. So as soon as Alya shut the door behind her, she put on her most professional smile and extended her hand to her.

“Mme. Ramonte, Alya Cesaire, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

She gave her a slight smile as she shook her hand. “When I saw that a kid in college was applying for the internship, I thought that you were either an idiot or you had a pair of steel balls. Show me which one it is.”

A little taken back but her forwardness, Alya’s hand shook slightly as she pulled her resume from the file and handed it to her. “As you can see, I’ve been running my blog, The Ladyblog, for close to a year and a half now.”

“Everyone and their mothers have blogs nowadays, Cesaire.” The woman scoffed as she tossed Alya’s resume onto her desk and turned to her computer, typing quickly. “Every candidate I’m interviewing today has at least two blogs, multiple news articles in their school newspapers, or videos from their college news or radio stations. What is it about your blog that makes you think that you are more qualified than any of them?”

Alya faltered for a second but wouldn’t be deterred, she was an awesome reporter and she would get this internship. “I’ve conducted multiple interviews with different celebrities; including Ladybug herself, other heroes of the Miraculous Team, the daughter of a diplomat who is also Ladybug’s best friend…”

“So have others, Cesaire.” She sounded bored, as she continued reading something on her computer screen.

Squaring her shoulders, Alya kept going. She refused to back down when she was so close to her internship. “I have also done extensive work on recording akuma battles and have compared my footage to other sites. None of them get as close or in depth as I do.”

“And why do you think that is, Mlle. Cesaire?” Her voice going cold

Alya blinked, not expecting the question. “Um… well-”

“Reporters and journalists are not to engage in dangerous situations that are considered life threatening. Whether someone is part of a staff or freelance, they are not to enter danger zones on their own, which you have apparently done numerous times. I will admit that when it comes to journalism, it is never without risks; but no story is worth your life.”

“But there’s no real danger, Ladybug always-”

“A terrorist is a terrorist, Cesaire.” The chill in the woman’s voice gained a hard edge. “And the attacks that have been done by the akumas have, on more than one occasion, shown the potential to be fatal. Should there be even a single time that Ladybug and Chat Noir not pull through, that could result in thousands of deaths. If you think that any credible news source would allow their people to do what you’ve been doing; then you’re more than an idiot, you’re a reckless idiot.”

Then she turned one of her computer screens towards Alya, which was queued up to the Ladyblog. “And from what I’ve seen from your blog in the two minutes you’ve been in my office; you are not only reckless, but mediocre in your work as a journalist. I have looked through multiple posts and have yet to see a single credible source mentioned. So tell me, how can you think that you are qualified to work here if you cannot follow the most basic rule of journalism and check your sources?”

“I can assure you, everything I post is completely true!”

“And I’m just supposed to take your word on that? Hardly.” She turned the screen back to herself, then started playing the first interview she had done with Lila. Mme. Ramonte played it for only 15 seconds, in which Lila claimed to be Ladybug’s best friend after she had saved her life, before pausing the video and looking at Alya. “If Lila Rossi, the daughter of a diplomat, had been saved by Ladybug, there would have been multiple articles and recordings of the incident. I just did a cursory search and the only link that came up connecting Rossi and Ladybug is your own blog.”

Alya was speechless. She wanted to say that Lila was telling the truth, but what reason would there be for Mme. Ramonte, who continued playing Lila’s interview, to lie? She stopped the video again a few seconds later, after the tale of saving Jagged Stone’s kitten from being run over by a plane on an airport runway. The look the legendary journalist gave her was that of total disgust and anger.

“Do I even need to list all the things wrong with

this story?” When Alya didn’t say anything, Mme. Ramonte went off on her, practically ranting. “Firstly, Jagged Stone has been quoted multiple times as being allergic to animal fur, and would not own a cat. Second, no one would allow a minor onto a airport runway, as it would be seen negligence and possibly as an act of terrorism. Even if she had saved some cat from being run over and Jagged had been grateful, no self respecting musician would write a song about a minor that was not their daughter, as doing so could have him labeled as a pedophile. You are very lucky that M. Stone has not seen this interview, because if he had, you would have been served with lawsuits for slander. So, I’ll ask again. Is there anything to keep me from saying that you are nothing more than a wannabe-journalist that isn’t fit to work at a news stand?”

She wasn’t even sure how to respond. Alya had been so sure that her blog was perfect, but after what Mme. Ramonte had said and how she was looking at her, she really did feel like an idiot for believing what Lila had said. Especially since she should have known better.

She now remembered when she flew to Spain with her parents when she was younger and how far away the landing strip was from the airport. There was no way Lila would have been able to see a kitten from that far away. Alya also remembered how she wanted to go outside and play, but her father told her that only authorized personnel were allowed outside at the airport. Then there was Marinette, the designer had mentioned how she couldn’t do certain designs for the rock star because he had fur allergies from when he was a kid.

Oh no, Marinette has been saying for months that Lila was a liar. Ever since she had seen Lila’s interview. And since she designs for Jagged Stone, she would know that Lila was nothing but a liar. She was also the one that got me my first exclusive with Ladybug, so she’d probably know that she was lying about that, too. And I had the nerve to tell her that she was just being jealous… I’m a terrible friend and an even worse journalist.

Looking back up at Mme. Ramonte, she was barely able to hold back tears as she shook her head. “No, Madame. There is no excuse for such shoddy journalism, it doesn’t even deserve to be called that. I apologize for wasting your time.”

The woman’s features softened slightly, but not by much. “You’re still very young and have a lot to learn about journalism, Cesaire. If I ever see you in my office again, I’ll expect more from you than any other candidate. That means looking out for your safety, knowing what is okay and not okay to publish, and checking your stories through multiple, reliable sources. I would also recommend killing your blog and starting new, the Ladyblog will become toxic to your career if it continues. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Alya couldn’t help but stare at the woman across the desk from her. Despite not deserving it, Mme. Ramonte had given her very sage and constructive advice that just might save her career in the long run. If she killed her blog now, started a new one or two, and followed her advice; by the time she finished lycee, she might be able to use them as proper references for her future career.

“Thank you, Mme. Ramonte. I won’t forget this.”

“Don’t thank me yet, Cesaire,” she waved her hand dismissively. “I’m going to remember this and I will be telling other news sources about your blog as well, to make sure you never repeat these mistakes again. So, if you are really set on being a journalist, don’t just prove it to me, prove to everyone that you are better.”

“Still, thank you. Have a nice day, Mme. Ramonte.” Alya stood from her chair but paused before she turned to walk away. “So you know, I think I’ll be doing one final post on the Ladyblog, to admit my mistakes and all the things I reported incorrectly on my blog, along with the sources to back it up. Sort of a final expose to rid myself of the bad energy from my blog, so I’ll be able to move forward.”

The woman gave a nod of approval. Before waving her out of the office.

Alya kept her head high the entire way out of the building while doing her best to remain calm, or else risk attracting an akuma. As a bit of a cleanser, she sent a text to Marinette.

To FashionGurl: You were right about Lila. I’m so sorry for not listening to you. Can we talk on Monday?

A few minutes later, she got a text back.

To FoxyJournalist: You can come by today if you want to talk.

To FashionGurl: Sorry, I’m going to be busy. I have a new story to write about that liar, one that will have multiple sources, showing everyone exactly the kind of person she is.

To FoxyJournalist: Can’t wait to read it!!

~oOo~

What followed for Alya was a very long weekend writing out every story/lie that Lila had ever told her and the class, research into Lila’s old schools, staking herself out in front of the Italian Embassy until Ambassador Rossi came out so she could introduce herself, and then a long conversation at a cafe with the very angry and distraught mother. There were a lot of questions, show-and-tell with the videos on Alya’s blog and news reports from Lila’s old schools, and then the recommendation that she go to speak with M. Damocles and Mme. Bustier.

Monday morning saw Alya going into the bakery before school, telling Tom and Sabine the truth about Lila, and then grovelling at Marinette’s feet for being such a terrible friend. One thing she did not hesitate to show the Dupain-Chengs were the records and news reports she’d found pertaining to Lila’s old schools. Tracking Lila’s social media, Alya had found three schools and discovered the kind of mayhem the girl left behind.

One school had a perfect student named Gaia, much like Marinette, bullied until she was expelled. Another school showed another popular girl named Alessia had “fallen” down a flight of stairs and broken both of her legs, a few ribs, and one of her arms. Even though there were multiple eyewitness reports that Lila had pushed her, the Italian girl moved before she could be brought up on charges. The report from the most recent school made all of them sick. A girl named Ludovica had been stalked, harassed, and bullied over social media beginning the day Lila joined the school until the day the girl committed suicide. A quick backtrace on the account showed that it had been set up by Lila Rossi.

It was quickly decided that Sabine would be going to the school to have a word with the principal and teacher. Alya gave them a thumb drive with a copy of all the information she had found, she had multiple copies, so that if they decided to pursue legal actions, they had evidence to back it up.

At school, Alya went to class while Sabine took Marinette M. Damocles' office to speak with him and Mme. Bustier, since the woman was decidedly absent from the room. She had barely sat down when Lila entered the classroom, spouting off some story about meeting Ryan Reynolds over the weekend. Alya barely suppressed her snide grimace before hiding it with a smile.

“Really, Lila? That’s amazing! Did you get any pictures? I would love to post them on my blog?”

Now that she was watching, she saw the girl flinch when asked for actual evidence before putting on a sugary sweet smile. “I didn’t get a chance, my phone died.”

“Oh that’s annoying. Where did you see him?” She asked, pulling up the movie star’s Twitter account. “Because you were here in Paris over the weekend but according to his social media, he was visiting his home town in Canada this week.”

Alya definitely saw the girl scowl that time. “Oh, he just said that so he could come here without anyone knowing. He’s researching a role here in Paris and I was showing him around until my mom called me home.”

“Didn’t you just say that your phone was dead?” That got the classes’ attention, as they had just heard the girl say that was the reason she hadn’t taken any pictures. Lila was about to spout some new excuse; but Alya, who was now channelling her inner Mme. Ramonte, raised a hand to cut her off.

“Don’t even bother coming up with another lie. I know you’re full of crap and it spills out of your mouth with every word you say. And before you try to accuse me of lying, taking Marinette’s side, or bullying you; I think you should know that I spent the majority of the weekend looking into everything you’ve told us.”

The entire class watched the Italian girl’s olive skin turn a sickly white. But Alya wasn’t finished, this girl had been attempting to do the same to Marinette that she had done to Gaia, Alessia, and Ludovica. And as her BFF, she was not going to stand aside and let that happen. “I have piles of evidence that you were never in Achu and have never met Prince Ali, you were just playing hookie. I’ve got evidence that you are perfectly healthy and have never suffered from any of the diseases or ailments that you’ve claimed to have since returning to school. I’ve also got evidence that you have never met any of the celebrities that you claim to know. That includes Ladybug.”

Not so surprising, Lila attempted to turn everyone against Alya by turning on the tears. “That’s not true! I would never lie about all of that. You’re just saying that because you’re mad at me for not getting the internship!”

When the class looked back at Alya, they were surprised to see her grinning like a fox. “Did I forget to mention exactly how I know you weren’t in Achu? Or how I know you're perfectly healthy and don’t know any of those celebrities you’ve claimed to be close to?”

She paused, mostly for effect before going in for the killing blow. “Your mom and I had a very in depth conversation yesterday when I ran into her outside the embassy. She wasn’t happy about your interviews on the Ladyblog, and she was confused as to why you were claiming to be Ladybug’s BFF when you’ve been telling her for months that she and Chat Noir were a couple of lazy, incompetent, and downright terrible heros; which was why the school was closed.”

If it were possible Lila paled even more before turning to run out the door. The door swung open just as she was reaching for the handle, and was met with an upset Mme. Bustier. “You are needed in the Principal's Office, young lady.” To the surprise of everyone there, Lila attempted to shove her way past their teacher. But the woman was faster and grabbed the girl by the arm in a firm grip before escorting her out of the room.

When the first bell rang a few minutes later, M. Harpele came in to act as the substitute until Mme. Bustier was finished with her meeting.

Marinette returned to class before their teacher did, smiling bright as the sun and visibly more relaxed than anyone had seen her in weeks. She sat down beside Alya and gave her a tight hug while whispering “thank you” over and over.

“I take it things went well for you instead of Lila?” Alya grinned.

Marinette giggled. “She tried convincing her mom that all of us were akumatized and were trying to ruin her life, but she wasn’t buying it. Especially when M. Damocles showed Mme. Rossi her school records. Mom demanded that Lila give a formal apology and confess everything to the class, or she would get the Board of Governors involved. When Mme. Rossi found out that Lila tried to get me expelled, she lost it and started talking about a catholic reformatory school in Italy. Lila looked like she was going to be sick when she heard that.”

“It’s not perfect, but it’s what she deserves.” Alya shrugged before looking Marinette in the eye again. “I’m really sorry, girl. You’re my BFF, I should have listened to you when you told me Lila was a liar.”

“No, I don’t expect you to listen to me every time. I just wanted you to check things out and make sure that you weren’t being taken advantage of.” Then her brow creased. “I’m curious, what brought all this on?”

“Let’s just say that I just got some much needed career advice.”

#alya redemption #lila salt #ml fic #lila karma #friendship #alya salt

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downondilaudid · 4 years

Text

Harmless Flirting

Reader gets jealous when a coworker gets a little too touchy with Spencer. Reader takes it into her own hands to show him who he belongs to.

Requested: Yes

Prompts: None

Word Count: 2.8K

Warnings: Smut, and SLIGHT angst. Bear with me this is my first time writing Sub!Spencer

“You can only be jealous of someone who has something you think you ought to have yourself.”

― Margaret Atwood

The sight of Samantha hanging all over Spencer made your stomach burn with jealousy, like the shiny new wedding band on his left hand wasn't obvious enough. Usually, you wouldn’t be so bothered by another female flirting with Spencer, he was a smart boy, and would politely decline their advances. But this time was different, he allowed her advances, and subtle touches to his bicep while delivering coffee. Samantha was a newly hired intern, she wasn’t exactly fit for the job, but her father was chief of the department, and that speaks for itself.

You would be lying if you said Samantha wasn’t pretty, in fact, she was almost gorgeous. It wasn’t her beauty that intimidated you, it was the fact that Spencer allowed her flirting, whether he didn’t notice, or was trying to be professional. It was absolutely infuriating.

Your eyes followed Samantha as she held a paper cup full of warm coffee, prancing her way into the room where the BAU had set up. You worked for the SVU, a career choice Spencer had pushed you to try. He thought your compassion and motivation to help others would be perfect for the job, and as always, he was right. You loved your job, it allowed you to make a difference in the world, even if it was one family at a time. Rarely did your job overlap with Spencer’s, but, when it did, the both you swore to keep things professional.

Granted, it was hard to be professional watching Samantha lean over the table, practically suffocating Spencer with her breasts. You scoffed, crossing your arms and shifting your weight uncomfortably. You weren’t going to say anything, there were more important things to worry about, like the string of missing little girls, who turned up a day or so later, their bodies mangled and burned.

Samantha set the coffee down on the table, you assumed she had gotten it for Spencer. On the bright side, he was definitely uncomfortable, he pressed his back far into the chair, putting as much space as possible between him and Samantha. Spencer continued to work, his eyes vigorously scanning a hot pink diary of one of the victims.

Despite how visibly unavailable he was, Samantha continued to lean over the table, trying her hardest to gain Spencer’s attention. Spencer finally responded, saying something you couldn’t understand from your distance. Samantha giggled, smacking her hand against the table in a fit of laughter. Spencer yelped as the coffee Samantha had brought him tipped over into his lap. Samantha’s eyes went wide, rushing around the room to grab some tissues, then running back and very inappropriately patting his lap.

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t even looking, this is totally my fault.” She said, hands still pressing against his thighs.

Spencer attempted to stand up, only to be pushed back down by Samantha, “Y-you don’t need to do that, it’s f-fine, s-seriously.” He croaked, his hands feebly trying to push Samantha away.

If you weren’t pissed five minutes ago, you were totally pissed now. You stomped into the room, your heels clicking against the floor. Your hand wrapped around Samantha’s arm tugging her off of Spencer, “you’ve done enough, Samantha, don’t make it worse.” You spat, releasing her arm and narrowing your eyes at her.

Spencer stood, his hands wiping his slacks, “it’s fine, Y/N, really.”

“No it’s not! I totally spilled hot coffee all over you like an idiot!” Samantha cried, attempting to move forward to help dry Spencer off again.

“Samantha, you’re not even supposed to be working today. What the hell are you doing?” You snapped. Usually you were never this rude to Samantha, she was a sweet girl, but right now, she was testing you. She was practically giving Spencer a handjob when he was obviously uncomfortable and married!

Her head turned to you, eyes widened like a deer in the headlights. “Um, well, I-I thought you guys could use some help.”

You sighed, trying to hold back your obvious anger, “We’ll call you if we need you, for now just go home, okay?” You softened your voice, trying to sympathize with the embarrassed girl.

She nodded her head, rushing out of the room to grab her things.

“It was just coffee, Y/N, it’s not that big of a deal.” Spencer defended, taking the tissues Samantha was using and attempting to pat himself dry.

You scoffed, an incredulous look dawning your face, “you’re fucking kidding right?”

Spencer huffed, tossing the dirty tissues onto the table, “we're on a case Y/N, be professional.”

“Professional, you’re telling me to be professional? That bitch had her hands all over your dick!” You yelled, quickly covering your mouth. He was right, this argument could wait, those little girls were depending on you.

The case ended that night, even with your head clouded by anger, you were able to figure it out.

You and Spencer had driven separate cars, and fortunately, you arrived home first. Immediately, you set your plan into action, stripping your clothes off and taking a quick shower. As soon as you dried off, you began blow-drying your hair.

Spencer needed to be put in his place, he needed a reminder of who he belonged to, and you knew exactly how to do that. You searched through your bottom drawer where you kept your lingerie, yes, you had your own drawer for that. Honestly, might as well have a separate closet for it, Spencer loved it when you wore lingerie.

This is why you stood in front of your wooden full-length mirror, glancing over your appearance, adorned in a black lace falbala. Accented by multiple golden rings on your fingers, one of which included your wedding ring.

Right as you finished admiring yourself, the faint sound of a door closing rang through the house. A sly smile curled your lips as you exited your bedroom, quietly making your way down the hall.

You rounded the corner, met with the sight of a pant less Spencer, his dress shirt unbuttoned. He probably shed his coffee-stained pants the minute he walked through the door since there was no time to change during the case, he was forced to wear them for the rest of the day. He hadn’t noticed you yet, busying himself by popping a k-cup into the Keurig.

“You’re home” you commented, making your presence in the room known.

His head snapped up, his eyes widening at your appearance, “woah, y-you look good.”

You let out a velvety laugh, walking around the kitchen bar and to where he was standing. “You really pissed me off today.” Spencer groaned turning to you with an annoyed look, “Y/N, you’re overreacting, it was just harmless flirting.”

Rage bubbled through your veins, that bitch was all over him. She literally patted his dick, his dick! Did he not see anything wrong with that? “It was not harmless flirting, Spencer, she was practically hopping on your dick!”

“She was not… a-actually it’s relatively impossible for a woman to be able to literally jump onto a man’s p-woah” He was cut off from his unnecessary explanation by your hand on his chest, pushing him back, pinning his body between your own and the cool granite counter.

Warmth spread to your core as his teeth dug down into his bottom lip. “You’re very mouthy tonight, baby” you mumbled as you laid soft kisses to his neck.

Spencer let out a slight whimper as you nipped lightly at his collarbone. Your hands ran up his chest, pushing the sleeves of his dress shirt down his arms and to the floor. You pulled away, your eyes bearing into his, lips parting with a low moan as you ran your thumb over his bottom lip. “You have such pretty lips” your thoughts wandered as you stared at him, a light chuckle rumbling in your chest as you spoke, “you really are a pretty boy.”

Your thumb pushed past Spencer’s lips, his eyes widening at the intrusion, but his mouth eagerly sucking on it, allowing his tongue to swirl around it. “Hmm… your lips would look a lot better wrapped around something else. Get on your knees.” Your voice was strong and as smooth as silk.

Spencer was relatively quiet when he was in a submissive mood, as opposed to when he was dominant he was rather loud. You didn’t mind it, but sometimes, you needed to hear him, it was your reassurance that he wanted this, that he wanted you.

He fell to his knees, his head perfectly aligned with your center. “Not much to say now, baby?” You ran the tips of your fingertips over his bare shoulder, watching as goosebumps appeared on his skin. You ran them up the side of his neck, sneaking around to the back of his head to tug sharply at his roots.

He yelped, his hands shooting up to rest against your thighs to steady himself. “Use your words, pretty boy.”

“Yes” he groaned as you tightened your grip in his hair, and his brows furrowed slightly. You hummed in approval, releasing your hold on his hair, causing his head to fall forward, and his chest to heave with an unreleased breath. You presented your left hand to his face, your perfectly manicured nails shimmering in the faint kitchen light. “I think you know what to do, sweetheart.”

Spencer moved his head forward placing a light kiss to your wedding ring, then moving to pull back. Immediately your hand met the back of his head, immobilizing him. “Ah, ah, you’re not done yet.” You taunted, a smirk on your face. There was nothing better than seeing your man on his knees in front of you.

His lips found your ring once more, this time, wrapping around the sizeable diamond that perched on top of the band. You watched as his cheeks hollowed, lightly sucking on the jewel. “Good boy,” you praised, pushing some of his chocolate curls out of his face.

“That’s enough” you stated, pulling your hand away from his face. “I want your mouth somewhere else.” You pulled up the frilled fabric of the lingerie with one hand, using the other to slide the little black panties down your legs.

Spencer’s tongue darted out, running over his bottom lip, “please” his voice was soft and low as he begged.

You chuckled before lifting one of your legs to rest on his shoulder, your hand braced against the counter to steady yourself. “Go ahead, baby.”

Immediately Spencer brought his head forward, his tongue flicking out to kitten lick at your clit. A light groan left your mouth, “fuck, there you go.” Your encouragement seemed to inspire Spencer as his delicate licks switched to sweet suckling as he wrapped his lips around you. Your eyes fluttered shut, it was so easy for you to get lost in the pleasure. It was no secret Spencer had amazing lips, but they were even better working hard against your cunt.

“Shit” you cried out, Spencer’s tongue swirled around, his darkened eyes staring up at you. Your hips rocked lightly into his face, your body craving the sweet bliss of an orgasm. The tension in your stomach began to build, Spencer sensed this, his cheeks hollowing more as he sucked harder, the tip of his tongue running over your clit.

Every muscle in your body seemed to tense as your orgasm overtook you, a loud moan of Spencer’s name leaving your mouth. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, and your chest heaved for air. Nothing on earth could compare to the feeling of coming undone on Spencer’s tongue, you almost liked it more than his cock, almost.

Spencer pulled back as your eyes fluttered open, greeted with the sight of him on his knees, his chin slick with your arousal. “God, you’re so good with your mouth” you stated, causing the both of you to let out a laugh.

“M’kay lay down,” you said, motioning to the cold kitchen tile.

His eyes rounded and a red flush covered his face, “what? O-on the kitchen floor?” He stumbled over his words, clearly surprised at your demand.

Your soft demeanor vanished at his question, your voice hardening with authority, “did I stutter?”

He shook his head, quickly moving from his position on his knees to laying flat on his back, hissing as the cool tile sent goosebumps down his body. “Such an obedient boy” you grinned, falling to your knees as gracefully as you could.

“Let’s get these off” your hands wrapped around the hem of his underwear, nails scratching lightly against his skin as you pulled them down. His cock sprung free, the head slick with precum.

He let out a strangled moan as you wrapped your hand around his cock, your thumb running lightly over the head. “Y/N” he groaned, squirming lightly in your touch.

But you didn’t want to give him what he wanted just yet, you wanted to hear him beg for you. “How bad do you want it, Spence? How bad do you want me to fuck you?”

“Please, please, Y/N?” He begged, his brows furrowing as he whined when your warm hand left his cock.

“Who do you belong to, baby?” You asked, moving to straddle his waist.

A gasp left his mouth, and you almost gave in at the mere sight of him. His body covered in a layer of sweat, hair tousled, and his lips red and swollen. Instead you began lightly grinding into him, your arms outstretched, braced on either side of his head.

His hips bucked greedily to meet yours, before muttering out “yours, I’m yours Y/N!”

Your response came in the form of a sudden jerk as you allowed yourself to sink down onto his cock, the both of you groaning in the process. Your hips set a frantic pace, knowing neither of you would last long. “That’s right” you moaned, leaning forward slightly to work your hips faster. “You’re mine, mine only.”

Spencer’s head lifted from the tile, his neck straining to watch his cock disappear into your cunt. Your hand met his neck, pushing his head lightly back onto the tile. You leaned in closer, your hot breath fanning over his face, “you want me to kiss you?”

He moaned, his eyes squeezing shut in pleasure. At that moment you wished you could take a picture so you could freeze the image in time. Spencer was so fucking beautiful, especially when he was a moaning mess under you. “Y-yes” he stuttered, his hips bucking up to meet yours.

You granted him his wish, your lips finally meeting. He was close, you could feel it, as were you. You couldn’t wait to see him unravel under you. The two of you swallowed each other's moans, both of you chasing your orgasms like animals. You pulled back to speak before capturing his lips again, “cum, cum for me. Samantha couldn’t make you feel this good, could she?”

It was the last words you were able to force out before you were thrown headfirst into your orgasm, trembling on top of Spencer. The feeling of your walls tightening and releasing around him sent Spencer into his own orgasm, groaning into your mouth.

Spencer had a point, it was harmless flirting, only because you knew Spencer only had eyes for you. But you would never pass up an opportunity to ride Spencer like there was no tomorrow.

You pulled off Spencer, and instead of crawling off of his waist you laid down, resting your head against his chest. His heart was still pounding rapidly, and yours was too, both of you still recovering.

“Sorry” you giggled, the realization hitting you that you had just ridden Spencer on the gross kitchen floor.

He laughed, the vibrations rumbling through his chest, “yeah, maybe next time we should try and make it to the bed.” His hands ran up and down your back, lazily playing with the lace of your lingerie, “I’m sorry about Samantha, I-I should’ve said something to her.”

You nuzzled your face in his neck, enjoying the feeling of his skin against yours. “It’s not your fault she’s stupid.”

“There’s nothing to be jealous about, baby. I only love you.” He laughed.

A lovesick smile made its way to your face as you spoke, “and I you. But you can’t deny, you love it when I’m jealous!”

Spencer pushed off his arms, into a sitting position, taking you with him. “Only because I love it when you get all egotistical and dominant.”

You scoffed playfully, pulling your head back to glare at him. “Excuse me, sir? Egotistical?”

“Okay, we’ll use the word confident instead.” Spencer corrected his lovesick smile reflecting your own.

“You want to take a shower then crash on the couch and watch Doctor Who? I’ve been aching to watch the god complex again.” You offered, stretching out your muscles before either of you moved.

Spencer chuckled, tilting his head up to peck your lips, “sounds perfect.”

#criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminalminds #spencer reid #spencerreid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #matthew gray gubler #mgg #sub!spencer reid

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ririanleyley · 3 years

Text

ꜱᴀᴜᴅᴀᴅᴇ

(Yandere) ᴋʏᴏᴋᴏ ᴋɪʀɪɢɪʀɪ x ɢɴ. ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ᴍᴀᴋᴏᴛᴏ ɴᴀᴇɢɪ x ʙʏᴀᴋᴜʏᴀ ᴛᴏɢᴀᴍɪ

ᴛᴡ. ᴀʙꜱᴏʟᴜᴛᴇ ᴄʀɪɴɢᴇ. ʜᴀʟꜰ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀ ᴊᴏᴋᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴀʟꜰ ᴡᴀꜱɴ’ᴛ, ʙᴇᴀʀ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴜꜱ. ᴋʏᴏᴋᴏ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴀɢɢʀᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ, ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ ɴɪᴄᴋɴᴀᴍᴇꜱ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, v1 spoilers!!

The morning had been quiet.

Everyone was reticent. A ‘Thank you’ here and there, and possibly a ‘goodbye’, but that was about it. Everyone sat at their designated areas, but no one spoke a word. Not even to their closest friends or companions.

Kiyotaka hadn’t been seen for days. Every morning felt bland and futile without him, almost like there was a missing piece to this very complicated puzzle. Kiyotaka kept everyone grounded and steady, even at the worst times when everyone felt unsteady and depressed, he never failed to cheer them up. Especially you.

You had formed quite the friendship with him. He was genuine, lively, and had the attitude of a true and bona fide leader. It made sense for his ultimate. You expected nothing less from your fellow friend, one who always believed in everyone, even his friend who.. didn’t deserve to be trusted. Even when others called Mondo out, Kiyotaka refused to cooperate and instead rebelled and refused until he broke, and Mondo was ultimately executed.

And that concerned you. It was terrible to watch, very grotesque. Seeing him spiral out of control until he became butter rose a bile up your throat, resulting in you almost vomiting. One look at Makoto and you knew the feeling was mutual.

Of course, in result, it left you all extremely gloomy and, well, filled with despair-

“Why so discouraged? You’re usually smiling like the idiot you are.”

You turn to see a familiar figure towering over you. One you never expected to see joining the rest of you in the cafeteria. Part of you wanted to jump up and hug him, but another thought it was kind of strange to see him here. After all, the stoic male never came here, not once.

You sigh and turn back around, “What are you doing here, Kayak? I thought we were too poor to be in your presence, your majesty.”

In irony, you slipped out of the chair and bowed down to him. When you looked up to see his scrunched-up and repulsed expression, you mentally fist-bumped yourself. Teasing him was all part of the plan, as he would easily open up if he were vulnerable.

Without replying, he sat down in the chair next to the one you had claimed. His eyes were glued shut, and face turned away. It all came together when you noticed the slight blush on his cheeks, which you chuckled playfully at, before your mind clicked and another bitter yet comical joke flooded from your wide mouth.

Before you were able to say anything, two split braids came into view. You instantly recognized the uniform and soft tone, the way she fidgeted with her fingers, and her signature stutter.

“M-master.. could I-I get you any-anything..?”

She was particularly apprehensive today. You assumed she was in a frenzy after her favorite person finally came to the cafeteria willingly, and not by a terrifying, tall woman dragged him by his collar and threw him onto the chair next to you, saying something along the lines of, “take it. I don’t want it anymore.”

Speaking of Kyoko, she was right there; leaning near the door and.. staring at you?

“Yes. Caviar, to be precise.”

“C-Caviar?”

“Aye, Kayak,” you waved to him, a sly smirk. “We don’t eat rich people food over here. The closest to gourmet here is a donut, one with frosting, if you’re lucky.”

Byakuya retaliated in response. His lip twitches every now and then, until he replies, grunting. “I suppose.. some turtle soup will do.”

He snapped his fingers in effect. Little did he know, we didn’t eat such exquisite dishes here, and that he’d be leaving on an empty stomach if he were so picky. But Toko, being the lovestruck girl she was, didn’t want to disappoint the love of her life.

“O-okay,” she shuttered with pleasure, “if that’s what you want, master, I’ll get it for you..” She paced quickly to the kitchen in hopes of pleasing her master.

“Pst, Boat-Boy,” you leaned into his ear, hands cupping around it to minimize drawing any unneeded attention from those around you. “We don’t have any soup. Unless you want warm water? But that’s kind of weird. But you’re weird. Now I see why. Okay, bye!”

You saw Byakuya’s stoic expression mold into one of betrayal and fury. Just as he was about to act upon his emotions, someone yelled from the kitchen, no other than Genocide Jack herself. Then a swarm of funky individuals approached him, very unpleasant for someone so distant and antisocial. You saw his face form into utter despair, as his watery eyes practically begged for your help.

You didn’t heed his call, and instead left him to his misery. Oh well.

As you skipped gleefully out of the now boisterous room, you sang in victory. Seeing someone so composed and intelligent crumble before your very hands felt unnaturally rewarding. Especially if it were Kayak.

Suddenly, much to your dismay, you collided with a certain lavender cilium detective. Before you were able to speak, a hand clasped swiftly around your wrist, encasing it so tightly that you couldn’t budge. You had no other option than to be dragged along harshly, behind the once bashful detective you’ve once known. Pulling you down the hall rather aggressively, the detached female halted abruptly at her room, apathetically tossing you onto the bed, where she roofed you, holding your wrists above your head. It would’ve been romantic if her grip weren’t so tight and her eyes weren’t as dull as now. You thought she was serious before, but look at her now.. she was oddly attractive.

Her eyes sharpened once you twitched. They landed on your wrists, the part she needed to restrain, and she did. With her gloved, lanky hands, she caused a piercing wince from you.

“Kyoko...not that I’m upset with this arrangement, but why exactly are you pinning me to your bed so suddenly, especially without my consent?”

Her iron-grip on your wrists loosened for a quick moment, but before you could take advantage of the situation, she struck you in the rib-cage. “Hng- Shit-!”

Her hand clasped over your mouth, shutting it efficiently and tight enough to draw blood. Tears welled in your eyes at her actions, and she slightly blanched. Your reaction wasn’t pleasant to her, but what did she expect? What does someone do when you hurt them? Especially if you had trusted them so dearly?

Kyoko put a finger to her lips, shushing you. It was a sign, you knew, and you nodded as quickly as you could. Though it may have raised suspicion in her, she slowly removed her hand from over your mouth, leaving you to lick your lips in dehydration. A bit of metallic mixed in.

“Don’t speak, not a word,” she demanded. You knew the walls were soundproof, so why was she taking such precautions? It muddled you densely, but you shifted on the bed without a word, as she had said. “You must be confused. Allow me to explain.”

She pulled the glove up her hand, seeming professional. It was only fit for a detective such as herself. But what wasn’t adding up was this very uncanny situation right now, that for some reason, included you.

She let out a hefty sigh, turning her head away from you in order to avoid your gaze. You rubbed your wrists. They felt sore, and you noticed faint bruises. Did she really do this?

“You’re good at acting, I’ll give you that.”

Was it meant to be a compliment? Didn’t sound like one, but you didn’t want to die yet, so you just nodded. You were still scared of what else she was capable of.

“Maybe it’s because you fake a smile constantly, that’d explain it.” She tutted, then finally turned her darkened gaze on you. You never thought she’d smile, but most of all, not one of mockery. It felt.. degrading. Like you were powerless, defenseless, fallen into a state of despair, while she held the key to hope.

It was revolting.

“After all,” she snapped her fingers, walking over to a table covered with a cloth. Without hesitation, she snatched the cloth off, revealing multiple records with your name adorning them. A bile rose in your throat. “Only maniacs like you could assist me.”

“H-huh?”

“Don’t you see, my love? This is the only way-“ she tilted your head up by your chin, her hold gentle unlike the previous ones, “-we could ever conquer the world. You and I.. do or die?”

It wasn’t meant to be this way. Kyoko loved you? But why.. would she ever do this?

Her grip compacted, and that’s when you knew you had to think of an answer quick. After all, it was only do or die.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere danganronpa #danganronpa v1 #kyoko kirigiri #kyoko x reader #kirigiri x reader #kyoko kirigiri x reader #byakuya x reader #makoto x reader #makoto naegi x reader #byakuya togami x reader #yandere kyoko x reader #yandere series #series #ririanleyley #tw:yandere #bnha yandere #yandere bnha

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giorno-plays-piano · 4 years

Text

Rx Queen

Pairing: criminal!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: obsession, stalking, non-con, breeding, minor depiction of violence.

Words: 2567.

Summary: James Buchanan Barnes was the most difficult patient you had ever treated as a criminal psychiatrist. His release from prison doesn’t make things easier for you.

_____________________________________

You turned off the phone and threw it on a chair, clenching your teeth. Whatever Dr. Strange wanted you to do, you wouldn’t stay another day in this goddamn place, waiting to be abducted or even murdered. It was too much. Today you found the new bottle of your favourite perfume on your nightstand. It wasn’t there before you went to bed last night. In fact, you could hardly remember the last time you bought yourself a perfume.

It all started two months ago when James Buchanan Barnes, the patient you had been working with during those seven long years, was finally released from State prison after serving 15 years of life sentence. The Soldier, as prisoners called him, once gone mad and murdered his commander. Bucky – that’s how he asked you to call him during your first seance – had PTSD, antisocial personality disorder, and severe depression. You could say he became better after all those years of treatment, including insane doses of antidepressants and mood stabilizers, but it was not enough to set him free. He was dangerous, psychotic even, yet devilishly clever: he knew how to portray a man who had reconsidered his life choices and deeply regretted taking someone’s life.

You knew he had never truly cared. Patients like him did not have capacity for remorse.

You started treating him once you became a criminal psychiatrist; Bucky was among your very first patients. Now when you thought of it, you could hardly believe Dr. Strange just transferred a patient like him to you, a young girl with too little experience to handle an unpredictable psychopath hiding behind a façade of a victim. Of course, you made many mistakes, starting from telling Bucky about your own past and some mental issues. That time you believed you can gain trust of your patients by being more open about yourself. You were a complete idiot.

Now there was not much to do once his time in prison was up. You didn’t have true evidence to make him stay. A part of you wasn’t even sure you wanted it – when a riot had started in the prison three years ago, it was Bucky who shielded you with his own body from Brock Rumlow, a serial killer and your second most dangerous patient. Bucky was the only reason you were still alive.

But he was also the reason why you were leaving in haste, packing only necessities.

It all started quite innocently with him sending you flowers and thanking for everything you had done for him. It didn’t alert you that he knew what your favourite flowers were. You thought it was just a coincidence since bouquets like these were sold in any flower shop in the city.

Then you stumbled upon him in a café where you often had your breakfast on weekends. It could alert you, but Bucky was sitting with a charming red-haired woman, her manicured hand resting on his thigh. She didn’t quite strike you as his sister, especially since you knew he had no relatives left after his violent father died in a car accident. Seeing such a beautiful woman with him just two weeks after Bucky was released from a prison was surprising, but you knew how seductively charming Barnes could be. Besides, he looked really good in his biker jacket, his tight black jeans showing his strong muscular legs.

In the end, you just talked to both of them a little and gave your advice on which dishes to choose. You walked away, praying you were wrong about Bucky and hoping he could settle peacefully like some of your former patients. Actually, even though many of them were imprisoned again, others were able to return to normal life. Some even had families now – from time to time you received thank-you notes with nice photos and many heartwarming words. It was probably one of the few things that made you keep your job.

It was over now. You were not going to stay in a place Bucky break into multiple times. Maybe you were not sure before, but the bottle of perfume was an obvious sign. It also meant that when a week ago you woke up and smell a man’s scent on your sheets you were not delirious. Bucky was there. He was laying beside you on your fucking bed.

How did it happen? Why didn’t you see his obsession growing with each day? You were his psychiatrist; you knew him better than anyone. How could he hide his infatuation with you for so long? Of course, you knew he had some feelings for you, but it was never that bad. You thought he would forget about you once he would be released. In the end, now you were not the only woman he saw around.

You kept stumbling upon his beefy figure more and more often. You realized Bucky was stalking you when after a month of his release you saw him watching your house from the forest. He was hiding behind the trees and bushes. It was a miracle you managed to see him at all – after 15 years he was still the Soldier, his skills remaining keen.

You tried talking to Dr. Strange. It wasn’t your first time being followed by your former patient, and police had always assisted you. But Barnes wasn’t like any of those stupid psychos who left tons of evidence behind them. Police had nothing to work with.

Well, you weren’t going to sit there and wait for Barnes to come and get you. You had no idea what was going on in his unstable mind, and you weren’t ready to take risks. You had already booked a flight to Austria tonight.

It was scary, thinking about wandering around a city you had never been, in a foreign country where you had neither relatives nor friends. But Barnes would have a hard time following you there, and that’s what mattered.

You threw a pack of salted cashew in the bag and returned to the bedroom to grab your phone from the chair. It wasn’t there. Although you dropped it just five minutes ago, your phone simply wasn’t there.

You were so fucked.

Next minute you were in the kitchen grabbing a knife, but a strong muscular arm knocked it out of your hand, and you felt Bucky’s musky scent. He stood behind your back, caging you with his bulky arms. You froze and held your breath. You knew you better obeyed the man instead of provoking him to become violent.

“And where were you going, honey?” His husky voice was enough to make you tremble. “It’s not nice to leave without saying goodbye, is it?”

“Please, Bucky.” You did your best to hide how frightened you were. “Stop.”

“No, honey.”

He leaned closer to you and buried his nose in your hair, inhaling its smell. His rough hands were already caressing your body through the clothes.

“You’re free to start a new life. You can find a good woman, have a family if you’d like.” Panic was rising in your chest.

“That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

“No, Bucky, it’s not.” You said in a calm voice. “It will only get you back behind the bars. Don’t throw away your life, please.”

“What life?” He growled, turning you around harshly, and you almost fell on his chest, his arms holding you still. “I have no life. I should have never left my cell, you know this better than anyone else. I’m rotten. Damaged goods. I will never have the life I’ve always wanted. Do you know I have nightmares every fucking night again?”

“It’s because you don’t take your pills.” You carefully put your hands against Bucky’s chest. He tried manipulating you, you knew that. “When was the last time you had thioridazine?”

“Stay with me, and I’ll take whatever pills you want me to.” He grinned suddenly, cupping your face.

Bucky’s strong athletic body emanated heat, and you were already sweating from both his closeness to you and an extreme agitation. Why did it take you so long to leave? You should have done it the first thing in the morning, just grab your documents and money and run to the car. Maybe then you had a chance. Unless Bucky had already been hiding inside your house…

“Why do you want to make a wrong choice again?” You felt his heart beating loudly with your palm against his chest. “You are given a chance to start over. If you want me to consult you still, I can figure something out. I can continue helping you, but you need to find your way. Don’t you think it’s good to meet new people, have friends, find a job, date a girl?”

“Who wants to deal with a psychopath like me?” He let out a chuckle, his expression darkening. “No one can handle me, doc. No one but you. Do you know I wanted to commit suicide before you showed up seven years ago? If not you, they’d already buried me.”

Before you opened your mouth to protest, he turned you around again and gently nudged you towards your bedroom. You broke out in cold sweat. If Bucky was able to outpower Rumlow, that beast of a man, he would have no problems forcing you to do whatever he pleased. It took three strong prison guards to bring someone like Bucky down. You were helpless.

“No one out there is good enough.” His breath was tickling your ear. “You’re the only one, can’t you see? Maybe I’m rotten to the core, but you still helped me. You made me better.”

You stopped in front of your bed, the white cotton sheets and blue blanket crumpled. You stormed off early in the morning once you saw a bottle of perfume on the nightstand and didn’t care to make your bed.

You needed to keep calm. As far as you could see, Bucky didn’t plan to murder you, not when you would accept him, that is. He obviously had a nice plan how to make you stay with him without police knowing, but as long as he kept you alive you still had a chance. You needed to play along.

“On the bed.” He let out a low growl, and you felt the bulge in his pants pressing against your ass.

Shivering, you took off your slippers and sat on the bed facing him. His erection was obvious; Bucky was breathing heavily, his pupils dilated. The next second he was pulling his black t-shirt over his head, and you saw his shredded body littered with scars. You saw one particularly long one on the side close to his waistline: this was the one Rumlow gave him when Bucky was protecting you during the riot. The man let out a quiet laugh when he saw your eyes focused on a nasty pink line.

“Why are you frightened, honey? I know you want a family too. You good-for-nothing ex wasn’t able to give it to you, but I can.” His hands landed on your bared shoulders, and you flinched a little. “Let’s get married, and I swear I’ll do whatever you tell me to.”

“Bucky, relationships don’t work like this.” You whispered, withholding a cry when his hand pushed you down on the bed.

“Don’t they?” The man smiled and cocked his head to the side, removing his black leather belt. “You do something for me, I do something for you. That’s what I learnt in prison.”

You dragged yourself back as quickly as you could, but your back was pressed into the wall once Bucky put his knee on your bed. There was nowhere to run.

“Don’t be scared, honey.” His sweet voice broke the silence, and he crawled to you, slowly caging you with his bodyweight. “Let’s make a deal. You marry me, you bear my child, and I will return to prison. I don’t care if they’ll give me twice more pills or make me a lethal injection as far as you take care of my kid. You’ll love my kid, won’t you? You’ll take care of them. You’ll make them a better person than I am.”

The more he spoke, the more feverishly he touched you, his left hand pinning your palms above your head. He traced his arm along your breast, ripping your shirt with so much force that its green buttons ended on the floor. You realized your cheeks were wet with tears when Bucky kissed you on the forehead and wiped your face with his other hand.

He wanted to have kids with you. Why? Why you? Why did he consider you a perfect mother? Why did he consider returning to prison? Why was he ready to trade his goddamn life for a chance of having a child? Why couldn’t he have a child with someone else and just keep living?

Oh, of course he couldn’t. Bucky loathed himself. It wasn’t uncommon for the patients with Cluster B personality disorders, and it was probably true he wanted to end his life since you saw his self-destructing behavior. In the end, even his effort to save your life back than in the prison might be some kind of a suicide attempt.

And the reason he wanted you and no one else… Well, you were the one who had been taking care of him all these years. The only one to navigate him through his nightmares when everyone else gave up on him. He saw good in you. He wanted it for himself. He wanted to make sure his child would never be treated the way he was.

You cried out when Bucky suddenly forced his cock into you. It felt like he was ripping you apart – he was huge. Your eyes flooded with tears again, and he cooed at you softly, pressing his chapped lips to your burning face. You couldn’t even remember when was the last time you had sex since you broke up with your ex a year ago. Thankfully, Bucky gave you time to adjust. He kept whispering filth into your ears and stroking your naked thighs. When did he take off your jeans?..

He kissed the top of your head, playing with your hair, and moved his hips slightly. You hissed in pain, but then realized it was a bit better – the pleasure started building up slowly, and you squeezed your eyes shut. No, no, you were not disgusting, your body tried to cope the best way it could, nothing else, it was a perfectly normal reaction, you knew that. Then you felt Bucky licking up the shell of your ear and whined desperately.

“It’ll be ok.” He whispered and kissed your temple. “I’ll take you to a nice place, and we’ll be there all alone. Once I make sure you’re pregnant I’ll return to prison, I give you my word.”

You bit down on your lip to muffle the noise coming out of your mouth.

“If they keep me alive, I might become your patient again.” He sounded almost ecstatic, rutting deep into you. “I’ll do whatever you say. I’ll stuff my mouth with your pills. Please, just stay with me.”

Staring at the white ceiling, you bit your tongue so hard your mouth filled with blood. You’d survive this. You’d get him behind the bars again.

You wouldn’t stay.

#bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes #bucky x reader #winter soldier #bucky barnes

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thestraggletag · 3 years

Text

Virtual Session, A Rumbelle Zoom Fic

Rating: Explicit.

Summary: Town meetings were usually drab, boring events, and having them over Zoom hadn't improved them much. Or so Mr Gold thought, until he forgot to log out of the meeting after it ended, only to discover a half-naked Belle French had also forgotten to do so.

SOMEONE PLEASE COMMENT WITH A BETTER SUMMARY I HATE IT.

Based on this prompt.

“We will review your presentation and hold a virtual vote before the month is up, Miss French. Thank you very much for your time.”

The mayor adjusted her suit jacket, her shirt riding up as she did so and unknowingly displaying the telltale white check of her Adidas yoga pants. Royce snickered, taking advantage of the fact he was muted.

“As there are no other pending topics on today’s agenda this virtual session is adjourned.”

He half-expected her to produce a gable out of thin air and bang it against her marble countertop. All around him people began to say their goodbyes and log out of Zoom, lest Regina decide to spring a surprise motion at the last minute. There was no need to flee, however, as Regina herself was one of the first to log off. Given the amount of smoke he had spotted coming from behind her right before she exited he did not need to guess what had caused her sudden departure.

“I guess no apple turnover for dessert at Madame Mayor’s.”

He heard an adorable chuckle and did not need to glance at the screen again to guess who it was. Very few people found his brand of dark humour palatable, but the librarian seemed to love it. It was nice, he soon found out, to have someone appreciate his often ill-received quips. It was one of the things he had first noticed about her. Well, other than her stunning eyes. And perhaps her hair, which was a lovely shade of reddish-brown. Her legs too, he acknowledged reluctantly, so nicely-displayed by her short skirts and high heels. And her-

He stopped himself. That way lay madness and he knew it. It was one thing to admire in an unattached way, from a distance. He was a connoisseur of beautiful things, after all, and Belle French was certainly beautiful. Unfortunately she also happened to have a lovely personality. Kind, generous, open, but also bold, defiant and the littlest bit dark. She flaunted the rules of smalltown society by wearing what the matrons around town considered “inappropriate clothing” for a librarian, and speaking to anyone and everyone, including those that polite society would urge her to shun. Drank beer with the miners, for example, men deemed “too coarse” for genteel women, and stocked the library with altogether undesirable books, be it because they dealt with unseemly issues or because they were from traditional authors. Which, he was sure, was code for “white men”, even if Mother Superior never quite spelled it out in such terms.

She was altogether dangerous for him, with her mix of light and dark, so he was always on his guard, lest his thoughts veer too far into dangerous territory. He didn’t fear scorn or derision if his feelings became too obvious for her to ignore. Belle was altogether too kind for that. But to be gently yet firmly rebuffed, and have their subsequent interactions laced by the barest hint of pity from her, would be unbearable.

“I’m pretty sure that at least Mr Spencer didn’t hear a word I said. His camera was off during the whole of my presentation.” The librarian huffed, clearly bothered that her proposal to increase the library’s budget to repair the East Wing’s leaky ceiling wouldn’t get a fair shot. The wing was currently closed, and had been since she had taken the post of librarian, but with the newfound need of social-distancing, particularly in enclosed spaces, she hoped she could change that, make the town council see the need for more space in the library. “Though perhaps he didn’t want to be yelled at again for not being in a three-piece suit for a virtual town meeting.”

He briefly paused to remember Spencer’s red face when Regina had chastised him for wearing a white polo shirt instead of a shirt and tie during the last meeting.

“Kinda hypocritical of Madame Mayor, given she was a couple of clothing articles shy of a full tracksuit tonight.”

They shared a conspiratorial laugh, and he hoped the camera somehow toned down the stupid look on his face. He tried to avoid direct eye contact, looking instead mildly-interested in her living-room. Her laptop seemed to be perched somewhere on her dining-room table, giving him a great view of the rest of her flat, which was a loft, so it was open space, with exposed brick and tall ceilings. Though small it was tastefully-decorated, and with enough bookcases to make it seem like it was a part of the library he had never been to, if it weren’t for the kitchen area and the- and he told himself to stop looking at it- queen-size bed.

“Well, Miss French, at the risk of getting ahead of myself I can confidently state that things are looking good for your project. It was an excellent presentation and I could see Midas and Hopper were clearly in favour. That leaves the Mayor and Spencer outnumbered. Hell, I think even Regina will vote yes on this one. I know she’s keen on finding a place for students with connectivity issues to go do their homework and attend some classes. Fingers crossed the voting goes your way.”

He smiled at her, trying to look reassuring instead of besotted, and they exchanged their goodbyes. He closed his laptop, deciding that he needed a stiff drink first and a cold shower later, and went over to his wet bar, where after some debate he picked up a bottle of Ardberg and poured himself three fingers of Scotch, opting to forgo the ice and drink it straight. The alcohol burned pleasantly on its way down, making him loosen up almost immediately. He went over to the window, undoing the buttons of his vest and slipping it off as he did, feeling warmed by the whiskey. He chanced a glance outside, where the night remained crisp and clear, thankfully devoid of snow. It was still bitterly cold, though, and he hoped the library’s heating system, which was in need of maintenance as well, would not fail. The money for its maintenance had already been allocated and the budget for the work set, but perhaps he could email the person in charge of the job and… persuade them to make it a priority. The work should’ve already been done, but the pandemic had put a temporary stop on jobs like that with the exception of emergencies. Now that things were slowly returning to normal he was confident he could get the people working on the library by the end of the week with three sentences or less.

He went back to his laptop, determined to send the email as soon as possible. He opened it up and noticed, at first, that his camera light was still on. Almost as soon as his brain connected the dots and realised that he had forgotten to log off Zoom he noticed something else: so had Belle French. She was walking around her house, seemingly tidying things up and humming as she went along. It was a lovely, domestic little display, and though he knew he needed to log off fucking Zoom and stop intruding on what Miss French clearly thought was the privacy of her own home, he didn’t move the mouse. Surely there was no harm in indulging a bit. He was a lonely man, partly by design and partly by circumstance, and though he often told himself he wasn’t missing out on anything, he had to admit it was nice to- albeit accidentally- share an intimate moment with someone he had an affinity with. He imagined, for a moment, that instead of her living-room he was seeing her in his, picking up discarded books or perhaps the remnants of a tea they had shared together. He quickly shook himself out of that fantasy, alarm bells ringing in his mind, and refocused in the present, where Belle was taking off her cardigan. Well, surely, that meant the heating system was holding, which was a good thing. Which reminded him of his idea to write-

He glanced at the monitor again, where Belle French was now shimming out of her skirt.

He blinked, idiotically-confused for a second, as if the thought of a woman undressing was news for him. After the initial shock he took in all the details, fixsting on the black stripe on the back of her sheer black stockings, which she rolled down with painstaking care, the gesture almost painfully erotic. She started on the buttons of her sheer maroon shirt, undoing them with ease and shrugging out of the garment. The black camisole she wore underneath did nothing to conceal her lacy black culotte, which hugged her perfect ass like it was made for her. She went to unpin her hair next, letting the bobby pins that kept it off her sides of her face drop into a little ceramic bowl on her vanity. He was surprised at how much seeing her walk around her house with bare feet, shaking her hair out and stretching her limbs affected him. There was nothing inherently sensual about her movements, yet he was transfixed, unable to look away. Any hope of containing his attraction or attachment to the librarian vanished into thin air at that moment, leaving him equal parts scared and turned on.

It was then that his mostly-unused sense of decency decided to let itself be known, a wave of shame washing through him at the notion of what he was doing. Miss French had every right to her privacy, and here he was, violating it in the worst possible way. He should log out immediately and stay away from the librarian for a rather long time, enough for-

“Royce?”

His heart lurched painfully in his chest at the sound of her voice. Slowly, reluctantly, he turned his head towards the screen, telling himself that he deserved the scorn and disgust he was sure to see in the librarian’s face. But whatever hasty apologies and half-formed excuses he was about to blurt out died on his lips the moment he saw her: she was standing in profile, arms crossed in front of her chest and hands grasping the hem of her camisole, prepared to take it off, and her head was turned to the side, her eyes on her laptop screen. She didn’t look accusatory, or disgusted. She didn’t even look embarrassed. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes shone, but it looked more like… like...

Arousal.

“I’m here, sweetheart.”

He could hardly recognise the low, growly burr as his voice. It sounded uncouth and harsh, like the way he used to speak back in Glasgow. He had worked for years on toning down his accent, letting only the barest hint of it show when he was trying to intimidate someone. Never enough to sound too much like he did back in his youth, and yet he hadn’t managed to quite rid himself of it.

On screen Belle lifted the hem of her camisole a few inches, exposing supple, creamy skin. Royce tried hard not to swallow his own tongue. She bit her lip, suddenly hesitant, and fuck him if that sliver of vulnerability wasn’t the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

“Is this… Is this okay?”

It took him an embarrassingly-long time to understand that Belle fucking French was asking him if it was alright for her to strip in front of him, presumably for their mutual enjoyment. He reminded himself that he had had only one glass of Scotch, not enough to dismiss whatever was happening as a drunken daydream. Which he might have had, from time to time. About Belle. Maybe.

“It’s perfect, sweetheart.”

Her lips curled into a coy smile, the growl in his voice making her shiver, and in one swift motion removed her camisole, revealing a lacy black bandeau bra with delicate details done in leavers lace. It matched her knickers, he noticed idly, and the black contrasted amazingly with her pale, softly-blushed skin. His keen eye noticed the exquisite craftsmanship right away. It was an expensive set, no doubt, and given how she was wearing during a commonplace day where she planned to stay home it led him to the conclusion that Belle French simply owned a lot of fancy lingerie, to the point that she wore it as an everyday sort of garment. He was very sure he would never again be able to look at her and not think about that.

“You’re gorgeous.”

In any other situation he would’ve been embarrassed to sound so… Reverent. So incredibly not in control of the situation. He might be fully-dressed, a man of means with a position of political power in their little hamlet and she might be a half-naked small-town librarian but he was absolutely powerless at the moment. And what was worse, he enjoyed it.

“Thank you, Mr Gold.”

Though he loved the way she said “Gold”, with enough irreverence to turn her tone teasing, he desperately wanted her to say his name.

“Call me Royce, sweetheart.”

She walked over to the table, flipped the chair and sat down, draping her arms loosely around the backrest, the position loose and cocky. There was no doubt in her now, no hesitance. She had assumed control of the situation, for which he was grateful. She tilted her head to a side, sizing him up.

“You’re wearing a lot of clothes, Royce. I feel at a disadvantage.”

She smiled, looking supremely unconcerned, but there was a glint in her eyes he recognised quite easily. Greed. And not the kind he was used to seeing in people who frequented his shop to strike one of his infamous deals. It was different. It certainly felt different to him, hit him right beneath his gut in a way that felt both uncomfortable and pleasant. Without quite thinking his fingers went to the knot of his tie, already loosened, and tugged expertly, untying it in seconds. The silk made a soft, hissing sound as it slipped off his neck, which sounded loud in the otherwise dead silence of the room. Belle followed his movements avidly from the screen, and the look of utter absorption on her face gave him the surge of bravery he needed to tackle the buttons of his shirt till he could shimmy out of it. He was wearing a white undershirt beneath, but his arms and throat were bare, making him feel ridiculously exposed.

“You have many layers. I like that about you.” Belle dropped her gaze, looking coy and vulnerable at the same time. “I like a lot of things about you.”

“Me too.” He tried to stop himself, but it was easier said than done. “Too many things, actually. But I’ve always understood that it would be foolish to expect anything to come of that.” He looked at Belle, draped over her chair and in her underwear. “Well, perhaps I was wrong.”

Belle smiled.

“You’re finally getting it. Good boy.”

He forced himself not to react visibly to those words, even though the moment he heard them it was like being struck by lightning. Thankfully the camera caught him from the waist up, hiding the embarrassing way his cock had perked up a second earlier. He could not hide his flushed face, however, or the way his eyes glazed over the slightest bit.

“Tell you what. I’ll take off my bra if you lose the t-shirt. It’s a fair deal.”

It wasn’t. As far as he was concerned he was getting the far better end of the deal but he would never dream of telling her that. Tipping his hand was not his style.

“Deal.”

He said it in the pleased, soft burr he usually reserved for his less savoury business arrangements, the kind that needed to be sealed in the cloak of night in some remote, deserted location. Belle shivered, and he enjoyed the thought that his voice made her react so. Feeling bold he grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked it off, baring himself from the waist up. He saw and felt the librarian’s eyes roam over his torso. It wasn’t a pretty sight. He had scars from his dodgy upbringing in Glasgow, and some from his learning days restoring antiques. He was fond of the sun so at least he was not pasty white, or overly hairy, but he didn’t have much in the way of muscles. Belle, however, seemed to appreciate his more lean physique, if the heat of her gaze was any indication. After she seemed to have her fill of staring she leaned back and deftly unhooked her bra, letting the straps slide down her arms till the garment was on the floor.

He stared. Couldn’t help himself really. Belle French’s tits were perfect. Fucking perfect. Just the right size, incredibly soft-looking and with the loveliest nipples he had ever seen, a rosy-pink that he would never be able to get out of his head. The kind of breasts that would ruin a man for other women. He certainly felt like no other breasts could ever tempt him again.

“Royce, are you okay?”

Her voice sounded a delightful mix of amused and slightly worried, so he forced himself to nod, still unable to look away.

“Fucking perfect.”

Fuck, was that his voice? He sounded… dazed. He fought the instinct to slap some sense into himself. Belle draped herself across the back of the chair again, and though the position hid her breasts somewhat it didn’t do so completely.

“I love how soft you are. Underneath the hardass pawnbroker exterior, I mean. Soft, and kind and funny. So funny. It’s one of your most attractive qualities.”

Most people wouldn’t think so. His brand of humour was dark, sometimes too much. And yet Belle always laughed, always caught on to his quips and seemed to appreciate them in a consporatory way. She could also dish it out, but in a far more subtle way that he was sure most people didn’t catch on to. Softly-spoken sarcasm delivered in a lilting accent.

What was not to love?

He told her so. Unburdened himself completely, caught up in his own physical vulnerability and hers. It felt safe to tell her of his feelings, of how days where he knew he would see her were brighter, and how he liked when they shared a smile or exchanged a comment on a book. How his heart fluttered when he watched her read to the children, and how another part of his anatomy altogether reacted when she strutted around town with her short skirts and devil-may-care attitude. Liked how she thumbed her nose at the pearl-clutchers in town, doing things her way. Completely unsuited for boring, conventional small-town life, and yet wholly at home in Storybrooke, to the point where he could not imagine the town without her.

He shut up after that, noticing how she seemed to have changed, her mood going from loose and flirty to… anxious? No, that wasn’t the right word. Unsettled, perhaps.

“I can’t do this.” The sudden sentence felt like a slap in the face, but the moment his face dropped she seemed to backpedal. “No, no, not like that! I mean… I wanna touch you. I want to be in the same room. With even less clothes on. This… It suddenly doesn’t feel like enough.”

She was fucking right, he realised. He felt itchy all of a sudden. Unfulfilled. Empty.

“Come over.”

“What?”

Belle seemed genuinely surprised, but the way her skin flushed and her eyes got big let him know she was very open to the idea.

“Come the fuck over. It’s fucking cold anyway and the heating system at the library is shite at the moment. Come over and I’ll keep you warm, sweetheart.”

He was rather impressed with his blunt bit of bravery, born out of a consuming need more than anything, and even more impressed when it looked like it worked. Belle scrambled out of the chair, throwing a lovely little nightie on before getting her coat and scarf.

“Be there in a few. See you!”

She disconnected before he could tell her to bundle up. It was fucking freezing outside and that nightie and her stockings and shoes would do nothing against the cold, coat or no coat. A moment later he realised he was sitting down in his pants, socks and shoes and nothing else while Belle fucking French was coming over to...

Fuck.

He scrambled up, fishing for his cane in a hurry and having just enough presence of mind to disconnect from Zoom. He went upstairs to his room, deciding that it would be awkward for him to still be wearing pants. And socks. And shoes. So he chucked all that off, throwing a dressing gown over his boxers, pausing to put on his house slippers, glad beyond words he had recently bought new ones. After that he went downstairs to the kitchen and popped a bottle of champagne, looking into his pantry for the box of chocolate truffles from Kreuther, a treat he had gotten himself after visiting a state sale in Midtown Manhattan a week ago. He arranged the impromptu offerings on the dining room table, and when the bell rang he told himself he was ready. He opened the door, finding a rosy-cheeked and clearly shivering Belle on the other side, hair windswept, as if she had run there. Taking into account her heels it was rather impressive.

Belatedly he thought about the scene she had walked into. He in his dressing gown, with champagne flutes and truffles on the table and a fire roaring in the living-room, a scenario ripe for debauching. But perhaps she wished to talk more, to explore their emotional intimacy. Perhaps the trek there had killed her ardour and all she wanted and needed was to get warm and comfortable. He didn’t want to come off as… expecting anything.

Belle, however, seemed to not share his concerns. She took one look at him, one look at the softly-lit space behind him and the food laid out and smiled.

“You brilliant, wonderful man.”

A second late she was in his arms. Cold, but soft and smelling of orange blossoms and frost. She tilted her head up, slanting her lips across before he could blink and it was… wonderful. The coolness of her lips contrasted with the searing heat of her mouth, making for a rather delicious contrast of sensations. He used the hand not clutching his cane for dear life to find the buttons of her coat, undoing them one by one with barely-contained impatience. Finally he had the coat opened and could snake his arm around her waist. The silk of her small camisole was soft to the touch, and let him feel the warmth of her skin beneath.

He needed to feel more. Now that she was safe in the warmth of his house she didn’t need her coat or scarves and went about the business of removing both without separating himself from her. It took a lot of tugging and pulling and a couple of missteps that landed her up against the wall, to his utter delight, but she was finally rid of both. Her skin, despite the toasty temperature inside the house, was still chilly from the outside.

“Come close to the fire, sweetheart.”

They managed to stumble across the hallway and into the living room, where they seemed to come to the mutual conclusion that remaining standing was not conducive to their current situation. The rug near the fireplace, thankfully, was thick and soft, and the couple of throw blankets he quickly spread over it made it more so. Once he was satisfied she would be comfortable he let her tackle him to the ground, enjoying having her above him. She was small, especially once she wrestled her heeled boots off. A tiny slip of a woman, shorter than him even, but there was a presence to her, a strength, that he couldn't help but surrender to. Beautiful, terrifying Belle.

“I’ve dreamed of this.” Her voice was low, husky. “You weren’t wearing a dressing gown in my dreams, though.”

“And you weren’t wearing anything in mine.” His accent was so thick he feared she might not be able to understand me. “Tit for tat, dearie.”

She ground herself against him, causing him to hiss and arc. Enough pressure to elicit a response, but not nearly enough to satisfy him.

“Don’t call me that. That’s how you call everyone else, and I’m not everyone else, am I?”

Her confidence slipped for a second, exposing a hint of uncertainty that he was quick to dispel.

“No, sweetheart. Of course not.”

He untied the belt of his dressing gown, managing to slip it off while still pinned by Belle. He didn’t imagine it was a very sexy spectacle but she seemed to appreciate it nevertheless. To reward him she yanked her nightie off, revealing her glorious breasts once again to his hungry stare. She was absolutely perfect, made even better by the way the fire lit her skin and hair, and turned her eyes a deeper blue. She looked fierce yet soft, a magnanimous mistress looking down fondly at a favoured pet. Idly she traced a scar near his right shoulder with the tip of her index finger, frowning the slightest bit.

“I want to know the story behind this. I want to know… more. About you. All there is to know that you wish to tell me.”

“Yes.” Usually he’d balk at the idea of such intimacy, of being so bare. Yet it felt like something he could do with Belle, something he wanted to do. “Yes, of course, sweetheart. And I want to know everything about you.”

She smiled, the gesture slowly turning sultry as she crossed her elbows over his chest.

“We’ll talk… later.”

She kissed him then, slowly and thoroughly, sinking one hand into his hair so she could tilt his head just so. Her fingernails felt delicious against the sensitive skin of his scalp and were a welcome distraction from the uncomfortable pressure of her ass against his groin. He wanted to last, desperately, but she was every wet dream he’d ever had come true. He needed to redirect his attention to anywhere but his aching cock. So he forced himself to focus on anything else. The soft, silky feeling of her skin against the rough pads of his fingers, and the taste of her, faintly sweet. She kissed like it was an art, managing to somehow find every spot that made him want to rip her panties off and just bury himself in her, foreplay be damned.

He startled when he felt her hands trail down his body and grasp the elastic of his underwear, tugging on it to hint at what she wanted. He obliged her before he could talk himself out of it, raising his hips so she could slide the boxers off his legs while still kissing. He felt her touch his mangled ankle and forced himself not to flinch or pull back. Blessedly she seemed to notice his discomfort, tugging his boxers off completely and reaching out to place his hands on the sides of her hips, against the scratchy fabric of her underwear. The message was clear, especially when she propped herself against the floor with her hands so she could raise her hips. He gently tugged her pantied down, with slow, careful movements to avoid accidentally ripping the delicate lace and not simply to watch in aroused amusement as Belle fidgeted above him.

“Patience, sweetheart.”

She whined, kicking her panties off when they reached her ankles and pushing him back a second later, her expression demanding.

“No more delays. We’ve had months of foreplay.”

He found himself agreeing with her. It certainly felt like they had been teasing each other for months, with the shared jokes, the furtive glances, bitten lips and coy smiles. Not that he had even dared dream of it before that night. Belle was too good in every way for a bitter old cripple like himself. Her hands on his cock chased his self-deprecation away, leaving his mind in a blissful state of blankness. Slowly, torturously so, she took him in, her hot, wet cunt enveloping him with the right amount of pressure. It was almost too good a feeling, leaving his nerve-endings too excited to register much else. She was fucking perfect, the feel of her the weight of her above him. Like she was made for him, only he wasn’t that lucky.

He needed to somehow make it up to her, make it so good she would not regret it. So he focused on establishing a rhythm, steady enough to build up their pleasure, but not too perfect to make it boring. He concentrated on the sounds she made, the perfect little gasps and the occasional, shivery whine that let him know she was enjoying herself. Soon enough, however, coordination and any form of higher thinking went out the window, the pleasure getting to be too much to focus on anything else other than driving himself as deep into her as he possibly could. He had enough presence of mind to sneak a hand between their bodies, slipping it across her wet fold to stimulate her further, determined not to come before she did. When he finally felt it, the blissful fluttering of her inner walls accompanied by a triumphant cry, he let go of his last shreds of self-control, letting his body seek out its needed release, the feeling travelling up his spine and leaving his whole body boneless with satisfaction.

He grunted when she practically fell on top of him, though he welcomed the reassuring weight of her and the heat from her body. He thought about the champagne and the truffles waiting for them on the dining room table and decided they could wait. As soon as he was able to move he would wrap his dressing gown around Belle and take her and the food and drinks to the bedroom, where they could recoup their energy and talk. And perhaps much later, if he was good, Belle would let him drink champagne from her navel.

Thank Regina and her fucking Zoom twon halls. He would never complain about them again.

#rumbelle #rumbelle fic #Thestraggletag fanfiction #Virtual Session

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girlgirlgirlnormal · 3 years

Text

I want her to be mine Part 1

Kuina x OC (female OC)

TW: Death; Niragi (Yes, I’m including Niragi as a trigger now, even though he is very ooc here and OC’s best friend); harrasment, sexual harrasment mention, bullying

Word count: 3.8k

Ino was dancing her way through the crowd. She didn’t have to push through. People made room for her. She knew that they were not doing it out of the kindness of their hearts. She was known to be a gun wielding maniac and Niragis best friend. They didn’t want to be on her bad side, and she was known to be ill-tempered. Wearing short shorts that barely covered her butt and a green velvet camisole she would never be pointed out for her clothes. Everyone was clothed less in the beach. The things that made her stick out of the group where the two guns she had on her hipholsters and the knife strapped to her thigh.

“Finally.”, she muttered, as she spotted Niragi on the other side of the pool.

She grabbed the drink of a girl standing nearby and walked around the pool, watching how her best friend was talking – no threatening – Chishiya and Kuina.

“Niragi”, she said, as soon as she was within hearing distance, “Aguni wants to see you.”

She crossed her arms, the drink, a pink liquid in a tall glass, still in her hand. She hated being the message girl.

“I have business to do”, Niragi said, not turning back to look at her, “This little man is bothering me.”

“That little man is always bothering you”, she said sighing, “Come on. You know how Aguni gets when he has to wait.”

She wasn’t looking at Niragi. Her gaze was fixed on Kuina. She found that that woman was too beautiful to be real.

Niragi groaned, pushing the head of his sniper rifle into Chishiyas stomach. He still didn’t make any effort to move away from the man. Kuina was watching him with a worried expression on her face and Chishiya simply did not seem to care. Sighing she took a big gulp of the cocktail she was holding and smashed the rest on the floor.

“I demand attention!”, she almost shouted.

Niragi chuckeled, “Remined me. Why don’t I kill you?”

“Because I’m your best friend, idiot.”

Niragi seemed to accept that, turning and walking past her, to the hotel. She stayed for a moment, gifting Kuina a little smile, then she turned back, following Niragi inside.

“If you want her so much, why don’t you just take her?”, Niragi asked, as they were crossing the lobby.

“Are you asking why I’m not making a move or are you advising me to force myself onto her?”, Ino asked, laughing.

She knew Niragi since highschool. He had interned and later worked at her fathers indie gaming company and she had worked on the same team with him. She knew everything about him and he about her.

“Both”, he said, shrugging, “You’re not the one to wait around if you want something.”

“If you were not so precious to me, maybe I would be the one shooting you.”, she replied, bumping her shoulder in his arm, making him laugh.

After they reached Agunis room she waited outside. He had asked for Niragi. He didn’t say that he wanted to see her with him, so that meant that she was not invited. She was leaning against the wall, quietly humming the hanging trees melody and playing with her knive, starting to not only hum but sing, as she saw Kuina coming out of the elevator. She knew she looked kinda scary with her huge scar extending from her right eyebrow all the way down to her navel. Singing such an ominous song while staring at the beautiful women walking towards her must have made her look even scarier. Not to forget the throwing knive she was twirling between her fingers.

“You really shouldn’t hang with Chishiya”, she advised, as Kuina was walking past her, making her stop, “At least not then Niragi is around. I’m afraid that one day you might get caught in some enthusiastic friendly fire.”

She couldn’t believe that those there the first words she had spoken to the woman she had been watching since she got to the beach. She never had acknowledged her enough to talk to her before.

“I can do whatever I want.”, Kuina answered, “What is it to you if I die?”

She had caught the woman watching her, but her expression could never be read. Maybe she was just some transphobe who had identified her and was plotting her death. Maybe she just didn’t like her face, that seemed to be the problem between Niragi and Chishiya.

The woman smiled, “You’re too pretty to die because Niragi can’t stand that weirdos face.”

Kuina was silent for a moment. Did she just tell her that she was pretty? She turned to look the woman in the face. She was still not showing any emotions.

“Too pretty, huh?”, she asked, the woman was pretty herself, but Kuina never thought much of it. She was just another militant and if Niragi was not following her like a shadow she was dancing with some other militant. Kuina had noticed that those guys seemed to vanish after she had seen them with her.

Pushing herself of the wall she put the knife back in its strap and smiled. She walked up to Kuina. She was short compared to her, only reaching her chin, and smiled up to her, before turning around and vanishing in her rooms, a couple of doors next to Agunis. The door between her and Agunis door was leading into Niragis room and their rooms were interconnected. She put the chair against the doorknob. If Niragi wanted to see her, he would come through the middle door anyway. She deattached her holsters and wiggled out of her shorts. Tomorrow she would have to play a game, she thought, as she was pulling her camisole over her head. She just hoped it was one she could beat. She would have Niragi with her. She never went to a game without him. He was the only person in this place she trusted. She slipped into a silk nightdress, the kind she used to sleep in all the time and brushed her hair. Her life used to be so good. How did she and up here?

“What’s up, princess?”, she could see Niragi in the mirror, leaning on the frame of their connecting door.

“Cuddles tonight?”, she asked, placing the brush on the vanity, and turning to Niragi.

He laughed, but nodded, “I think you just need some Vitamin D.”

She rolled her eyes, “Maybe I would get some if you didn’t kill everyone who dared to touch me.”

Niragi was already getting undressed all the way down to his boxers and laid down, extending a hand to her. Sighing she stood up and walked up to the bed, laying down beside her best friend and letting him wrap his arms around her.

“They all didn’t deserve you”, he mumbled into her hair, “I only want the best for you.”

“You want me to die horny”, she answered, cuddling into his chest, “I miss being touched that way. I would be very grateful to you if you did not kill everyone who touched me.”

Niragi sighed, “Can’t you just abstain as long as we’re here?”

She playfully hit his arm, “I’m going to approach Kuina and I want her to stay alive to fuck me.”

“Stop thinking about sex”, Niragi scolded her with a bored voice, “Concentrate on the game tomorrow. We will have to play.”

Yawning she nodded, before falling asleep in her best friends’ arms.

The next day went by uneventful and as the signal for the start of the games sounded through the hotel, she and Niragi were already in the lobby. They would not draw a number. They already knew they would go to the game with the other militants. They had to take some civilians with them, though. Who they would take with them would be chosen by luck. Many did not consider themselves lucky then they drew the M instead of a number. Either they would have an easy game and the militants would fight their way free for them or it would be a deadly game and they would be killed by the same people who were sent to protect them.

She was watching Kuina and Chishiya argue.

“You have to find someone to switch with.”, he said.

“Who would switch with me?”, she asked, looking around.

Everyone who wanted to participate was already making their way out. Thinking that this was an opportunity to “bring order to the beach” she signaled Niragi to stay and made her way over to Kuina.

“What number did you draw?”, she asked, not even acknowledging Chishiya.

“We were about to switch”, he said, holding his own number, a 3 up.

She ripped the piece of paper out of Kuinas hand and unscrambled it.

“Looks like you’re with us”, she said grinning, “That’s the law. You go with the number you get. No more horsetrading.”

She grabbed Kuinas arm and pulled her with her to the two militant cars. Niragi opened the door to the front passenger seat, grabbed the young man already sitting there and pulled him out. Before he sat down, he turned to her and threw the keys to her, “You’re driving today.”, he said, getting in.

Catching the keys, she watched Kuina sit down and finally sat down herself. The drive took them about 15 minutes. The game arena looked like a normal apartment complex. She stopped for a moment, showing Niragi what had caught her attention. There were two different entrances. Both were limited to 10 people each. A sign told them to leave their weapons outside.

Niragi pointed his head to the second entrance and one of the militants peaked in, “Here are already six people”, he informed them.

“2 here”, Ino informed the group.

“Militants here”, Niragi pointed to the first entrance, “Weeklings there”, he pointed to the second door.

The people they had brought, only 4 including Kuina, were looking distraught. They were 7 militants.

“She’s with me”, Ino said, pulling Kuina by her arm to her side, “She’s coming with us.”

Kuina did not protest. This short before a game one should never put the militants in a bad mood.

The others nodded. She had the highest number after Niragi. If he didn’t say something to contradict her, they would listen. Niragi rolled his eyes about his best friends’ behavior, but she had told him that she wanted to fuck that girl, so she would.

After entering through the first entrance, they each picked up a phone and waited for the other group to be full. A couple of minutes of silence ensued. Niragi and Ino did not talk because there were others in the room. The others did not talk, because Niragi was in the room.

“Registration is closed”, the mechanic voice announced, after a while, the five of clubs card flashed on the screen, and a table was elevated from the ground with all kinds of sharp objects on it, “Game: Kill or be killed. Two teams with ten players each have been assembled. Players are free to choose weapons from the table. Clearing Conditions: The team with the most kills wins. Game over: If a player dies or is part of the team with the least kills it is game over for them. Time limit: 20 minutes”

Niragi laughed, walking over to the table and grabbed an axe and 2 machetes. He gave one of them to Ino and pointed to the throwing knives, “Take them.”

She took them. She didn’t mind small orders from Niragi. They had been a team for five years. That meant that they have been giving and taking orders to and from each other for half a decade.

“What are you good with, princess?”, Ino asked, turning to Kuina.

The other militants did not take anything yet. They were like a pack of wolves. They would not get anything until their “Alphas” were done. Considering that Aguni was not with them they had to do as Niragi pleased. Kuina looked over the table.

“Sword”, she said and watched as Ino grabbed one and handed it to her.

Ino caught Niragi staring at the screen.

“What’s the problem?”, she asked, looking up to his face and then to the screen.

Beneath the rules two columns had appeared. Group Right and Group Left. Both columns had a big black zero beneath their group names.

“It doesn’t specifically say that we have to kill people from the other team to win”, he said, thoughtfully, looking back to the two civilians standing in the back, they had not even chosen a weapon yet. Ino guessed the reason for that might be one of the militants standing by the table looking the girls up and down with a dirty look on his face.

She rolled her eyes. Men.

“Maybe we should look into it”, the man said, taking a knife and walking toward the women, who were already covering into the wall.

Niragi turned to watch him. Ino saw up to him again. His face didn’t betray any emotion but seeing those women in such fear had to remind him of his old life.

“Maybe we should”, Ino agreed, walking up to the girls, coming to a halt right next to the militant.

He smiled at her. She smiled back, swinging her machete into his neck. His eyes were widened in shock as he fell to the ground. Gurgling noises could be heard for a couple of moments, then they stopped. Ino looked back to the scoreboard. A point had appeared for the other group.

“I guess that means we protect the girls”, she concluded, walking back to Kuina and grabbing her hand, “Niragi?”

“You stay here”, he said looking to the women, “everyone else, the hunt is on!”

With that he hollered, swinging his ax and machete and opened the door to enter the playing field, abruptly stopping in his tracks.

“It’s a fucking labyrinth”, he muttered, “Come on. We need to split up.”

Ino sighed, that was a dumb idea. Everyone died in horror movies as soon as they split up.

Niragi looked at her for a moment, before nodding and walking off. They would survive. There was no way this game would get any of them killed.

“You’re with me.”, Ino said, grabbing Kuinas wrist and dragging her off, walking in the opposite direction of where Niragi disappeared.

“Why?”, Kuina asked.

The labyrinth was silent. She couldn’t hear anything beside her heart pounding.

“I don’t think this is a talkie talkie game”, Sakura said, her machete raised, slowly walking around the next corner.

Kuina huffed, following Ino. If she didn’t have to, she walked straight, not taking any turns. They had to hurry. They were already down to 15 Minutes and the only point given in the game was the militant Ino had killed. She started to consider it a bad idea. She had made a point for her rivals. If they didn’t find and kill someone soon, they would lose. She stopped. She thought she had heard something. Trying to concentrate on the sounds around them she closed her eyes, hearing Kuinas footsteps continue walking, walking past her.

She heard the sound again. It was coming from around the corner that Kuina was about to turn. Not even thinking she lunged forward, grabbing Kuinas waist and pushing her back, while swinging her machete. She was too late. She screamed as something made impact with her forearm, wildly swinging her machete she only stopped, as the man infront of her collapsed to the ground.

“Ino!”, she heard Niragi scream.

Examining her arm, she screamed back: “I’m fine.”

She was cut and bleeding, but it didn’t look too deep. An agonized moan escaped her mouth, as her phone beeped, signaling the point she had made.

“Are you ok?”, Kuina asked, automatically grabbing her arm to have a better look at her wound.

“I just said that I’m fine, didn’t I?”, Ino growled. This was so frustrating. It was her dominant hand.

“I’ll take the lead”, Kuina announced and wanted to continue walking, but Ino grabbed her wrist.

“Look”, she said shoving her arm in Kuinas face, “That happened because you took the lead. Stay the fuck behind me.”

With that she walked off, machete up in her left hand, cautiously walking around the next corner. Her phone beeped again. A quick look on it showed her that her team had gained another point. She grinned. Now it would be enough if no one else on their team got killed.

She heard a scream and started looking around, “Its ok”, she told Kuina, showing her the phone. They had gained another point. Kuina nodded.

She was just about to turn the next corner as she stopped, raising the machete over her head, and hacking down the second she turned the corner.

“I guess it really is a matter of time until one of us kills the other”, Niragi said laughing, as their machetes clashed.

Ino took down the machete that she was holding up with both hands, grasping her injury with her other hand.

“Fuck”, Niragi groaned, grabbing her arm, “That’s not fine.”

“It will be”, she said, taking her arm out of his grip, “Don’t worry. Made a kill yet?”

Niragi shook his head, “You are the first people I´ve seen since I got in the labyrinth.”

“Looks like I’m winning”, Ino said grinning, walking off.

She only heard one set of feet walking behind her, so she turned. Niragi was right behind her, Kuina was still standing where she had left her.

“Come on princess”, Ino said smiling, “I want to give Niragi a chance to beat me!”

Niragi had walked ahead and was now hollering. He found someone from the opposing team and was using his ax to cut the man down.

Niragi turned back to them, after the man he was axing down stopped moving. Blood had splattered all over his face and shirt, “It’s a tie, princess”, he screamed joyfully, turning back around and started walking away.

“No ties for you!”, Ino laughed, pushing past Niragi and running ahead.

“What the fuck, Ino”, Niragi laughed, following her.

“Kuina, move your sweet ass over here”, Ino ordered, laughing and ran off.

After a couple of moments, she could hear Kuinas footsteps behind her. She grinned. She was already listening to her.

She stopped in her tracks as she heard Kuina scream. She was lying on the ground, a big bulky man sitting on her stomach, fighting to put a knife to her throat. Ino ran back, trying to pull the man off the fighting girl. He backhanded her, causing Ino to fall back and hit her head on the floor.

She heard another scream and looked up to see Niragi swinging his ax one more time, making the man fall to his side and off Kuina. Ino scrambled to her knees and scooted over to Kuina, helping her up.

“Are you ok?”, she asked, one hand hovering over her neck, there are fine line of blood was glistening.

“I´m alright”, Kuina answered, standing up, “You must’ve hurt your head. You fell pretty hard.”

Ino wanted to say that she was ok, but she only hissed in pain, as Niragi touched the back of her head.

“You’re bleeding”, he informed her in a judging voice, “If you continue like that, you’ll die today.”

She punched his arm.

Four to one, we’re winning”, she said, taking Kuinas hand and dragging her along, “Only five minutes remaining.”

The last five minutes were uneventful. Noone else died until the time ran out and lasers killed everyone left in the losing team. As they got back to their base, the two civilian women were already gone and they were the last militants to arrive.

“Let’s go home”, Niragi said, not even stopping to look at his comrades.

The car ride was silent. They had split up to be able to take both cars to the beach and Niragi was driving. He was shooting concerned glances in her direction every once in a while, trying to ignore the feeling that he should’ve been able to protect her. Kuina was the only one they had taken with them. The poor girl was sitting in the back, staring at Inos bloody, matted hair. She was just trying to win the game, Kuina thought, it doesn’t mean anything that she saved you.

As soon as they arrived on the beach and the car was parked, Niragi got out and opened Inos door. She let him help her exit the car and walk her in the direction of the beach, before stopping and turning back.

Kuina had gotten out of the car and was walking at a safe distance. Ino smiled at her and pointed at her head, “You’ll have to pay me back for this”, she said, “tomorrow morning. I’ll find you.”

With that she turned and let Niragi lead her to the medical center. Kuina was still standing there, staring at the women as she disappeared in the beach.

Pay her back? How? She didn’t have much time to think about it, as Chishiya was already approaching her. Niragi was too busy supporting his best to pick a fight with the shorter man, he didn’t even look at him, as he walked past them.

Niragi had led her to the medical area and Ann had patched her up.

Laying in her bed, Niragi beside her, they were examining her bandaged arm.

“I thought only snitches get stitches”, she mumbled, poking around the edges of the bandage.

Sighing Niragi turned to her, extending his index finger and starting to draw the line of her scar. It was just a fine line on her face and throat, but it turned to an angry red convulsing scar at her collarbone. He knew that it extended in the same shape between her breasts, down to her stomach, before turning back to a fine line and stopping at her navel. It had been gruesome. They didn’t think she would survive it, but she did.

“You weren’t snitching back then, were you?”, he asked jokingly, finger resting on her collarbone.

“I´m just saying that I just once want to get stitches because I’ve been snitching”, she laughed.

“I would be happier if you stopped getting stitches”, Niragi argued, making Ino laugh, “Are you really going to meet that girl tomorrow?”, he asked, finger still on her scar, “Kuina?”

Ino nodded, “She is very pretty.”

“She’s always with Chishiya”, Niragi groaned, “You should not trust her.”

“I’m not saying that I trust her”, Ino finally turned to face Niragi, cupping his face with one hand, “I’m just saying that she’s verry pretty and I want her to be mine.”

#hikari kuina #kuina #alice in borderland #niragi #suguru niragi #kuina x reader #kuina x oc #chishiya #chishiya shuntaro #niragi x reader

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royallyprincesslilly · 4 years

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Title: Kismet {7}

Henry Cavill x Famous OFC Aliya Taylor

Warning: Plot, Slow Burn, Mild Cursing

Words: 5.1k

Summary: Aliya is a singer turned model turned actress. Since she was fifteen, she’s been creating her empire in the entertainment world. As the daughter of a famous fashion model/designer and Hollywood director, you’d think life is easy for her, but her past has been anything but easy. Due to past trauma, she’s forever changed and no longer trusts any man that is not in her family and a select few in her team. She’s sworn off love and serious relationships and has planned never to fall again, but love isn’t something that can be planned. It just happens when it’s meant to. Can Aliya outrun a love that seems hellbent on holding tight to her, a love that is Kismet?

If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!! 😘

As always, thank you so much for reading. ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Interactive***

Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 |

-Henry-

He tossed from his right.

“This has been fun. You seem like a really good person on top of being uber-talented. I wish you nothing but continued success in your career and life, but for anything here, I don’t think it’s going to happen,”

He turned to his left.

“I don’t do drama or messy, and your situation screams drama and mess.”

He rolled from his back.

“The bottom line is I’ve broken three rules already when it comes to you, and I will not break this one.”

He flipped to his stomach.

“Goodbye, Henry.”

That was always when he leaped up, sweating, panting, and wide awake. It was always the same time. Two in the morning and he always had the same feelings. Regret. Resentment. Emptiness. He hated those words when put together. Every night for the last two days, it was the same thing. He’d go about his business, work, fulfill his obligations, meet family and friends to catch up, all the while thinking he saw you at the most inopportune times. He remembered the first time he thought he saw you. He was having lunch with his brothers, their wives, girlfriends, and nephews. In the middle of his conversation, from clear across the restaurant, he thought he saw you. The woman didn’t even look a lot like you. The only thing you shared in resemblance was the complexion of your skin and your hair color. He knew then he’d lost his mind and was acting out of character.

Usually, if he were in this situation, he would have already moved on. He never dwelled on situations that didn’t serve a purpose for him. He was straightforward and preferred those he spent his time with to be the same. If a woman didn’t seem interested and went as far as to tell him goodbye at every chance she got, he would fade away. That is what he should do; instead, he continuously thought about you.

He went back and forth in his head about where you were getting your assumptions and why were you so quick to think the worst of him. It was apparent to deduce that you probably had a bad past experience with someone to have become so standoffish. There was no way someone would give off such conflicting vibes if they hadn’t been burned before.

If he didn’t imagine you throughout his day, he was dreaming of you coming up with words he should have or could have said when you were in front of him. When he thought to call you, he always turned against it. What was the point? You’d made your decision and come up with your assumptions on who he was. He wasn’t in the practice of pleading with women to give him a second chance or even a true first one.

By day three, he found himself ignoring his wounded pride and ego. By no means was it easy to do. In truth, it had been years since he’d ever felt this way—rejected. It was humbling. Since the years when his star had officially risen so far in the Hollywood stratosphere, every woman he’d ever either approached or been approached by never rejected him. In no way was he cocky enough to think women couldn’t reject him. He just thought he felt something and that something was mutual.

“Another beer?”

“Uh—no, a glass of water, please.”

“Tap, sparkling, flavored sparkling?”

Scoffing, he shrugged then said the first that that came to mind. “Sparkling lemon is fine. Thank you.”

The waitress nodded and walked back the way she came with his empty beer glass in hand. Today was necessary. It was long overdue. Glancing at his watch, he noted it was ten minutes past when he suggested the meetup. He also noted that he was annoyed with this lateness but not with yours. Groaning, he rubbed the back of his neck, trying to rub out the tension that rested there.

“Hey, honey.”

Snapping his eyes open, he saw Abby’s cheerfully smiling face. Her blonde hair was styled with bouncy curls that framed her blue-eyed face. She leaned closer as if she intended to kiss him, tilting his face to the side, her lips landed on his cheek.

“Oh,” Abby said, voice filled with disappointment.

“Sit, join me,” he said, hoping to distract from the slight he’d just shown her.

Abby sat on the stool across from him after placing her purse to hand on the side of it. When she leaned forward, his eyes dropped to her top's cleavage before they instantly came right back up to her face.

“How are you, babe?”

“Good.

“I missed you so much. You have no idea. There were so many things I wanted to tell you,” Abby began before he could start the conversation.

He listened and nodded along as she went on and on about the things that were going on in her life. She talked for so long that he was able to drink the entire glass of water the waitress brought over. When the waitress came back to take their orders, he had to step in.

“Uh, can you give us a few moments?”

“Sure.”

Abby’s eyebrows knitted, showing her confusion.

“I wanted to talk, Abby.”

“About what, Henners?”

Taking a deep breath, he slowly released it. “A while ago, we talked, and I thought it was clear where my head was when I said we need space and to distance ourselves from each other. I thought we both understood what that meant, but—I can see I wasn’t clear.”

He could see the worry in her eyes, and he hated to do this, but it had to be done. “I think you should move on…we both should. I didn’t mean to give the impression that there was hope for reconciliation or even that this would turn into a fling of some sort. I’m sorry for not being clear. However, I think I have to be crystal now. You have to stop calling and texting and allow yourself to move on.”

She didn’t speak for a full two minutes.

“Really?”

“Yes, I’m sorry. I just--.”

“—No, no, I get it. I really do. I--,” Abby stuttered without making any eye contact. She stood, reached for her purse, and schlepped it onto her shoulder.

“Abby, I’m--,” He began begore she cut him off.

“Don’t worry about it. You were clear before I just thought—guess I hoped if I showed you I was serious and willing to try that you’d come back.”

He felt like a world-class wanker. As he opened his mouth to say something, Abby held her hand up, smirked, and turned to walk out of the restaurant. Sighing, he made eye contact with the waitress and raised his hand for the check. One down, one more to go. By the time dinner rolled around, his FaceTime call with Francesca went a lot better. Though he could tell her defiance and reluctance to accept his wishes, she eventually did, eventually being the operative word. It took nearly twenty minutes.

As he sat with his glass of red wine and his pasta dinner with Kal at his feet with his bowl filled with his gourmet feast and a new bone for dessert, he noted everything was quiet. His home was silent, and his thoughts were even more so. It dawned on him then. This was the first time in three years he was absolutely free with no attachments to anyone. It was something that made him pause. His life was a busy one, and he’d seen the inside of a movie trailer more than he’d seen the inside of his own home. With him traveling so much, dating was hard and more a nuisance.

That was how Abby and Francesca came into the picture. He’d dated Francesca on and off for years before she ended things believing he didn’t want anything stable only to come back into the picture. Abby was a one-night thing that kept happening whenever he was home. Both required so little besides some attention here or there. It was probably what he gravitated to. It was low stress and a low chance of any emotional entanglement that he didn’t want--until he met you.

After dinner and a quick walk for Kal, he found himself in for the night with one thing on his mind. You.

“Bollocks! Just call her. Call her. It’s no big deal,” he said, trying to hype himself up.

Feeling brave, he quickly grabbed his phone and tapped your number in his contacts. By the time the first ring began, he’d changed his mind and promptly ended the call.

“You’re an idiot, mate!”

He knew he was in for another sleepless night.

~~~~~~~~~~

-Aliya-

Chewing your bottom lip, you stared at his name on your phone. It could have been seen as a little bit of divine intervention. For the last week, you’d gone back and forth, up and down, and around your decision to walk away from him and end things. Part of you knew it was the right thing to do. He was clearly tangled up in some sort of drama, some sort of playboy lifestyle that you didn’t want any part of. There were even times you felt like a hypocrite. You were dating two men at once. Yes, they both knew about each other, but still, it was technically the same thing. Your life was drama free because you worked hard to keep it that way, and that included exchanges between Jesse and Liam.

In the beginning, six months ago, you’d made it crystal clear to both of them that you didn’t want any serious commitments. You told them that your career, businesses, and workload kept you plenty busy and gave you enough headaches, and you expected none from them. You set out the rules; they followed them and kept the drama to themselves. Did they like each other? Maybe not. Did they like the idea of sharing you? Maybe not. Did you care? Eh, not really. You mainly entertained them when you had some free time and wanted to de-stress. As said before, you liked drama free.

“Why’re you staring so hard at your phone?”

Jumping, you tried to hide it, but you weren’t quick enough. Amaya was the one to grab it from you to see Henry’s name. The sound she made said she disapproved.

“Still can’t believe you did that man like that.”

Kissing your teeth, you snatched your device back and sat on one of the stools around the kitchen island.

“What else was I supposed to do? Join the equation and become part of a square?

“The only fun shapes are triangles because they equal threesomes,” Amaya began, making you and Alicia stare at her as if she’d lost her mind. “However, squares can be fun.”

“You’ve lost your mind. In no situation is three women duking it out for one man fun. A quick departure was the only move,” you defended.

“Honestly if, and I say if with hella contingencies, if, if, if he were actually sleeping with two other women, then yes, you did the right thing. There is no sharing unless it’s with another man for my attention,” Amaya announced.

“The problem is, though, we don’t know if he was sleeping with these women. You made an assumption, didn’t really allow him to explain,” Alicia countered.

“What! He had the entire discussion on the corner.”

“After you’d accused him of being a cheat and fuckboi? After you’d probably offended him by taking strikes on his character? There are plenty of things that are different between Americans and Brits. What was you asserting your position could be disrespect to them,” Alicia, the voice of reason, theorized.

You knew she was right on some level. You’d spent enough time in England to know the etiquette and social differences. From his cold demeanor, before you walked away, you knew you’d either injured his pride or pissed him off. Hell, both were very possible.

“Look, I’m not saying don’t stand up for yourself with letting someone know what you will or won’t accept. I’m saying maybe there was a better way. Maybe one that didn’t leave you second-guessing yourself and thinking about him.”

You hated when she saw right through you, hated when she was right, and hated even more when she called you out rather than letting you rock. Groaning, you shut your phone off and placed it face down, deciding to do what you did best—ignore everything.

You’d thought about him a lot over the last week, and within the last week, you’d come across more Henry Cavill content than you had in the entire year. There were InStyle interviews, promos, magazine articles, Instagram posts that were now on your feed because of one time you tapped on a picture to get a closer look. There were even YouTube videos of him reading thirsty tweets. Lord have mercy. He was everywhere, and the more you saw of him, the more you thought of him.

One thing you didn’t see regarding him were any tabloid pictures of him out and out with any woman. He was always pictured with family, his dog, friends, or by himself. That tidbit had you wondering if you’d been wrong about things. You hated second-guessing; it always left you in this weird hyper anxious state. You usually got a lot done when you were like this, but it left you exhausted.

“Have you thought of your two boyfriends as much as you’ve thought about this never was one?”

Why was she like this? She’d always been this way. She held nothing back, but where Alicia was the same, they differed in that Alicia had a way of being blunt but also being gentle. Amaya didn’t give a shit. She said what she meant with no care if the recipient felt offended.

“I’m gonna take your silence as a no. when was the last time you’ve actually spent any time with them? Bored?”

“I’m hungry, let’s eat,” you said, walking out of the kitchen making your way to the home cinema room. You knew how to flip a subject if you no longer wanted to talk about it.

The two of them followed behind you, then dropped into one of the large relaxing couches. Knowing you didn’t want to talk about it anymore, the two focused on figuring out a movie for tonight’s movie cinema. It had been weeks since the three of you had been able to do this, and it was long overdue.

Once you’d found something, the rest of the night was spent laughing, gossiping, being extra, eating and drinking while watching movie after movie. Thankfully the conversation remained off of you and on the two of them. Alicia spoke about her recent date while Amaya let you in on the status of her latest situationship. While the focus didn’t return to you and yours, your mind was sure focused on one thing. Henry.

Two days later, while you were locked in your office trying to make something of the mess of work before you, you got a notification from Instagram. Deciding you needed a break, you opened up the app and scrolled through your feed. After a minute or so, you came across a post on some gossip site. It was a picture of Henry’s smiling face with a caption that read, “Happy Birthday to Henry Cavill. This hunk of a man is celebrating a birthday today across the pond, and many women wish they could ring it in with him. From your fans on this side of the pond, Happy birthday!”

Your jaw dropped. It was Henry’s birthday.

“Is it really?”

That began a dive into the internet, which led you to the first site, IMDB. Sure enough, according to his fans, it was his birthday, May fifth.

“Wow.” Jumping back to Instagram, you typed his name in for a tag search and scrolled through the plethora of birthday wishes and fan page tributes. It was plain as day to see that his fans sure loved them some Henry Cavill. It was cute. After almost twenty minutes of scrolling, you began to debate if you should send him a birthday message. You wondered if it was appropriate.

“Is it appropriate to send a birthday wish to a man that wasn’t really yours to begin with but knew what your mouth tasted like?”

Closing your eyes for a few moments, you decided it wasn’t.

“Not appropriate, especially considering you were the one to end things. However, there was really nothing to end. We were never a we.”

Sitting in silence for another few minutes, you rolled your eyes.

“It is rude, though, if I don’t send something,” you finalized, admonishing the British etiquette coursing through your blood.

You dropped your head to the desk and groaned. This was ridiculous, you thought. It shouldn’t be this complicated.

“You’re making it complicated, dummy. Just send the message.”

Taking a few moments to gather your thoughts, you sat up again as if nothing had happened for the last fifteen minutes of indecisiveness and began your text. You typed a few beginnings and deleted them. You didn’t know how to begin. Did you just jump in and ignore the massive elephant in the room? Did you address the elephant but get right to the birthday wish? Your etiquette training said to address the elephant but in a ladylike manner then proceed to the birthday wish. That’s what you should have done. Your real-world girl living said to ignore that elephant and get right to it, then bury your head and see how he takes it.

MSG: It’s your birthday, well, according to IMDB and all your Cavillry fans. Did you know your fans call themselves the Cavillry? That’s pretty insane and hilarious. Anyway, I wanted to wish you a happy birthday. I know you never told me when it was but the wonders of the internet. Yes, I might have googled you. Anyway, I hope your birthday is filled with laughter, fun, happiness, and wonder because you just might deserve all three. Be safe and live like it’s your last.

Yeah, you ignored the fuck out of that elephant and took it to a whole other level. Full-on avoidance. As you looked over the message, you chewed your bottom lip, a nervous tick you never got rid of. When three or four minutes passed by with no response, your anxiousness picked up. That was when you slid it away and got back to work, determined not to obsesses over it.

~~~~~~~

-Henry-

Shocked could have summed up what he felt when he saw your message. Shocked and stunned silent. It happened at the weirdest time too. He was in the middle of a get together with his family for his birthday. With his Guinness in hand, he just happened to glance at his phone as he was going to snap a picture of something funny Simon was doing.

“What’s the matter with you?”

Shaking his head, he spun around to face Piers on his right. “Nothing. I’m good,” he lied.

“No, you’re not,” Simon said, coming up on his left to sit at the table. “Which one is it, Francesca or Abby?”

He rolled his eyes at Simon, not finding any humor in his words. His brothers laughed at him because they all knew the story there.

“You have the worst taste in women,” Nik began slapping him hard on his shoulder. “You either choose the ones who have ulterior motives hence Abby, or the ones who want different things than you, Francesca,” he finished.

“At least the women I get are beautiful,” he compensated quite pathetically. It was a horrible comeback, but it was all he had. He hated not having some sort of comeback when his brothers ganged up on him. It took him back to being a child.

“Francesca was beautiful, Abby—was adorable a little immature though,” Piers added with a shrug to the end.

He couldn’t deny that. “She was,” he said with a nod. “Very jealous too.”

“So, who was the message from?”

“No one.”

It was a blatant lie.

“Oh, it’s someone all right,” Piers called out.

He groaned, knowing they wouldn't let it go until he’d told them. Sighing, he gulped his beer before he began.

“Remember the woman I told you about?”

The three of them looked confused as if he'd never mentioned you before.

“The one who had your phone?”

“Yes. Turns out, she saw the messages for and from Abby and Francesca.”

They all looked confused again. “So what?”

Simon shook his head before he spoke. “He’s interested in her.”

“Who is this woman, anyway?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he replied to Nik’s curiosity. He wanted to keep some privacy, especially now that you’d decided he was some male gigolo.

“We went out on three dates. The second date goes well--.”

“—How well?”

He couldn’t help but smile at Simon’s inquiry. His memory was still fresh from what he was classifying as the best second date he’d ever had. When his chuckle broke through, his brothers’ interest piqued.

“Really well, I see,” Nik professed.

“Not like that. It was just a kiss, or three kisses, three incredible kisses. Anyway, she ignores me for a few days; then I see her in New York about a week ago. We had dinner with her friends, then breakfast the next day. Everything seemed fine, after she tells me that nothing is going to happen between us.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that. She said she saw the messages, and she doesn’t do drama or messy, and she thinks I’m juggling two women, and she has rules she’s broken and won’t break the drama rule,” he informed. As he said the words, his annoyance rose again.

“Woah. A lot going on there,” Simon began before he gulped his beer.

“What rules?”

“I don’t know. She said she wished me success in the future, but we were done,” he finished.

“To be fair, you are juggling two women. You and Francesca have this weird relationship where she wants more from you, but you’re not willing to give it to her, so she tries to see if it’s enough, and it’s not. That’s the back and forth,” Piers summed up. He finished his beer then continued. “With Abby, I don’t know your problem. You know you need to end it, but maybe the shag is too good.”

“Hey!”

Their laughter rang out again.

“Honestly, my world gets lonely, and it’s nice to have someone that wants you around instead of being all work,” he divulged.

“Even if you don’t feel anything for that someone?”

Simon hit the nail right on the head. Sighing, he shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. I cut ties with them both.”

“Whatever,” Nik scoffed.

“I’m serious. It was last week. It was like breaking up with them all over again.” He shuddered, thinking back to the experience.

“So, they’re gone?”

“Gone and done,” he confirmed.

“And things with this woman?”

“I don’t know what to do. She doesn’t seem that interested. It seems as if she’s being friendly, but that’s it.”

“Did she kiss you back?”

Nodding to Piers, he replied. “She did.”

“Does she give you eye contact, or do you catch her watching you sometimes?”

It was an odd question, but he briefly thought it over before he answered Simon's inquiry.

“Yes.”

“She’s into you,” Piers, Simon, and Nik said in unison.

“Then why brush me off? She just seems—unattainable.”

“Be careful with those types of women,” Nik warned.

“I’ve heard nothing for a little over a week, and now she sends me this message.”

“Read it.”

Opening the message back up, he read your text to his curious brothers. As he read, he glanced at each of their faces trying to gauge what they were thinking. They each looked to be thinking different things, though. Once he finished, he looked at all of them.

“That was nice of her,” Simon expressed.

“Sounds like she’s being friendly,” Piers added.

“That’s good and well. What do I say?”

“Nothing.”

“No. Thanks,” Piers suggested conflicting with Nik’s advice.

“Thanks? That’s it?”

“That’s it. Guarantee it’ll drive her crazy.”

He looked between them again, and seeing them nodding together; he decided what the hell.

MSG Henry: Thanks.

“Good. Now forget her, and let’s get out of here to enjoy your birthday!”

Five minutes later, they were on their way to one of the city's exclusive gentlemen's clubs. While this establishment wasn’t a traditional strip club, there were women in cages and frames throughout the club. It was a popular location among Londoners and one he’d been to once or twice already.

Once they walked into the club through the VIP entrance, they were led to one of the private sections for celebrities. After almost ten minutes inside, he noticed the eyes on him, but he did his best to ignore it. It was his birthday, after all, and he intended to enjoy it to the fullest.

Fifteen minutes later, he’d had two more beers and was now surrounded by a few women who eagerly tried to gain his favor. They each talked about something different, making it difficult to focus on anyone. When one of the women pulled him up to dance, the other sandwiched him making him the prime meat between them all. When his brothers glanced over, they all released an uproar of cheers. It was absolute lunacy, and the longer he remained there, the crazier things became. Though he partied and enjoyed the night, you weren’t far from his mind.

By the time they staggered out of the club, the paps were there to catch the women's desperateness as they exited the club. Though they tried, he got into the taxi with only his brothers as his company. He wasn’t the kind of man to have a string of one night affairs. It was too reckless for him.

~~~~~~~~~

-Aliya-

Thanks. That’s what he chose to reply with thirty minutes from when I sent the message. Thanks. Not thank you, but thanks. Not I appreciate you taking the time. Thanks. Not you’re so sweet to think of me. Just thanks. It boiled your blood. You were confused by, annoyed with, and dissatisfied with the message. Couldn’t he have mustered up another reply? Anything. You tried to have work be enough, but you gave up an hour after receiving the message. Instead, you relieved your annoyance in the kitchen. When you were angry, you always had to chop things. You had no intention of cooking. You just wanted to chop.

Thanks to the near hour of your obsessing, you had Ziploc bags of diced onions, peppers, tomatoes, cucumbers, zucchinis, and carrots. You doubted you’d be able to go through it within the week, but that wasn’t the point. By the time one in the morning rolled around, you were still anxious and annoyed. You couldn’t believe this. You hadn’t had a reaction like this to someone in a long time—if ever.

That was when your phone rang. Grabbing it off of the nightstand, you saw Henry’s name illuminate the screen. Your nerves shot up like a rocket, and no matter how many deep breaths you took, they remained sky-high. After a few rings, you answered.

“Hello?”

A sigh echoed on the other end before Henry spoke. “I honestly didn’t think you were going to answer. I was hoping to leave a message.”

“Well, I answered. What message were you going to leave?”

The deepness of his voice sounded deeper from what you remembered, and it had goosebumps prickling your skin.

“One so you’d realize what you’re missing,” Henry replied. Your eyes bugged.

Did he really just say that? Your mouth gaped open as you wondered incredulously while sitting up in your bed to rest against the cushioned headboard.

“It’s dawned on me that you must think you’re not missing anything when it comes to me. So let me assure you you’re missing out on plenty.”

Pinching your lips, you tried to stifle your snicker. “Oh, really?”

“Really,” Henry confidently confirmed. The way he said it had your back straightening and any amusement quickly fading. The tone of his voice spoke to you, making your belly flutter.

“Like what?” It was barely above a whisper.

“You’re missing out on my kindness, my sensitivity. You’re missing out on flowers just because, surprise handwritten notes just to show I care. You’re missing out on romance women only dream about. You’re missing out on all the captivating intellectual conversations we could have about the stars, Rome, Greece, Egypt, and why we’re all descendants of black kings and queens. You’re missing out on someone being there for you unconditionally because they want to be because fate has led them to you. You’re missing out on lazy days of playing video games, eating pizza and drinking beer, missing out on a man who doesn’t care if you’re in sweatpants and messy hair, or all dolled up in makeup and heels. You’re missing out on me, my passion, my strength, my heart. You’re missing out on the chance never to cry again, missing out on the chance to feel more complete than you have ever felt in your life. You’re missing out on being able to stare in my eyes whenever you want, missing out on these hands to hold you, these lips to kiss you—missing out on us.”

If a gentle breeze somehow blew through your house right now, you’d be knocked off your bed. You were hanging on that little. You were so rattled you were speechless and actually physically shaking. The conviction and raw emotion in his voice was something that shook you to your core and left you raw, wanting, and on the verge of tears. The pounding of your heart was so loud that it was all you could here for a few moments. Trying to use your breathing to slow it you realized it was impossible.

“Are you—drunk?”

“I’ve had a lot to drink, yes, but I’ve never been more clear-headed in my life. You're not only missing out, but you’re also making me miss out on all of that as well. Goodbye, Aliya.”

Your phone beeped, signaling the end of the call. You sat there speechless, motionless, rattled to the bone, and completely wrecked.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#kismet fic #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x black reader #angst fanfic #black fanfiction #slow burn fanfic

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zodiyack · 4 years

Text

Oh Bother, My Brothers

Requested by peakysputain: Hi could you do an angsty Shelby sister please?

Pairing: Shelby & Gray family + Shelby!fem!reader (No romance)

Warnings: Swearing, angst, kidnapping, mention of murder, violence

Note: I decided to use one of my prompts for this! I know it’s not quite what you asked for but hope you like it! Also quick addition, I have no idea what the title so yes, I know it doesn’t make much sense or relate to the story oopsies

Prompt: (42 from this prompt list) “This is the third time I’ve been kidnapped this WEEK. It’s getting old.”

Taglist: @matth1w @redspaceace @simonsbluee

Masterlist | Peaky Blinders Masterlist

She was just minding her own business. Sitting on the bench, minding her own business. However, her peaceful state somehow led to her having a black bag forced onto her head and some mystery people dragging her away. She thrashed around, trying to get out of their hold, but today was not Y/n’s lucky day.

They tied her hands and tossed her into what she assumed to be one of the carts that carried hay, and shut the doors. Why were they taking her? Who were they? What did they want with her? So many questions raced through her mind. But Y/n was wise.

Aunt Pol taught her many things, including ways to break free from imprisonment back when the boys thought it as funny to lock her in her room on her date nights. She adjusted her leg a little, reaching down and grabbing for the knife that was hidden in her shoe.

The binds on her hands prevented her from being able to grab it if it were to slide from her grip, so she focused as hard as she could. She felt it. The handle. Just as she was about to grab the knife, a chuckle came from the other side of her.

“Whatcha doin’ there, love? Got something in your shoe, do you?”

She rolled her eyes. “No, my foot itches. Wanna help out?” Y/n giggled to herself as the voice made sound of disgust. “Then piss off, eh?”

“You’ve got a mouth, don’t you?”

“Yeah, all humans do, in case you haven’t noticed.”

The person scoffed, then chuckled. “Whatever, smartass. Do you know where you’re going, Miss Shelby?”

“Not really, I can’t see with a bag on my head, but I guess you don’t have enough brains to have known that either.” Under the bag, she was smirking. If she learned anything from her brothers, it was how to get one someone’s nerves. How to rile them up, show them she wasn’t scared.

“Watch it.”

“Or what? You gonna pull a gun on me?” She laughed mockingly, “I’m a fucking Shelby. Death doesn’t scare me one bloody bit.”

“Sure. That’s what you all say, until you really face death. That’s when you’re frozen in fear, regretting every wrong you’ve ever made in your life.”

Their attempt of “exposing” her and getting into her head was pathetic. She let them know that, laughing until they yelled at her to shut up.

“You’re a fucking idiot! You really think you know everything about me and my family, don’t you?” She didn’t give them time to answer. “I will never regret anything at all in my life, I will never look death in the eye with a even an ounce of fear, and finally, I will never allow you, and your crimes against my family, to get away with this.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. What? Are you deaf or something? I’d sign it to you, but my hands are tied... literally.”

They grunted. A few seconds went by and finally, the world became light again. The bag was torn off her head, she blinked a couple times and squinted as her eyes slowly got used to the new brightness. A male sat in front of her, one she’d never seen before. Nonetheless, he was most likely someone who had beef with one of her brothers.

“So... what’d my brothers do this time?”

“Nothing, actually,” he grinned, “we just know that you’re one of the younger Shelbys, and a girl-”

“Correction. Woman. Please, continue!”

The man gave a huff of annoyance, “as I was saying, it’d mean you’re of a higher worth to your family. We kidnap you, your family pays us, you go free.”

“So what if my family doesn’t pay you?”

“Then you’ll die.” He shrugged. She’d been through this many different times the same month, even year. The third time in a week ought to teach her how to react to certain threats and keep her mouth shut.

“Again, I’m not scared of death, you dumb bastard.” But she obviously spent way too much time with John and Arthur.

Her kidnapper was red in the face, a few veins in his forehead becoming visible as they bulged. “Give me one fucking reason I shouldn’t put a bullet in your head right now!”

“Oh! This one’s easy! Hmm... Well for starters, my brothers wouldn’t be able to pay you, and even better, they’d kill you in the worst possible way.”

He clenched his jaw and looked to the side, he knew she was right. Too pissed off and annoyed, the man lazily put the bag over Y/n’s head and began moving back into a comfortable position. His adjusting, however, was cut short with a scream of pain. His own scream.

Y/n pulled her knife from his thigh and waited for the perfect moment. She leaned against the wooden part of the cart and rolled sideways, falling out of it and landing on the empty road. Her escape was unknown, as the man was still grasping at his wound and trying to stop the bleeding.

Fortunately, the idiot didn’t put a whole lot of effort into putting the bag back on her head, and it easily came off. She slid the knife skillfully between the ropes binding her wrists and cut her hands free. With the knife back in her shoe, her hands rubbing her red wrists, and her eyes now filled with the world around her, she started home.

With a temper, and a mighty one at that.

The doors slammed open, her footsteps stomped throughout the home. “Boys! Ada! Pol! Get your asses in here! All of yous!”

They did just as she commanded, Polly squinting her eyes at Y/n and reaching to rub some of the blood off her hand. “What happened?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She drawled.

“John, get her some whiskey. Y/n, sit-”

“No! Don’t even tell me what to fucking do right now!-”

Arthur stepped up, concerned and confused. “Y/n, what’s got you so... angry?” He chuckled nervously, uncomfortable with the tension.

“What’s got me angry? What’s got me fucking angry? This is the third time I’ve been kidnapped this WEEK! It’s getting old!” Her family widened their eyes as the realization hit them. Ada and Finn looked down with sympathy while the others held stern faces.

A silent but agitated tension filled the room, accompanied by silence.

Pol walked over to Y/n and grabbed her face, inspecting her up and down, checking for wounds, bruises, and more. After her search was over, her hands lifted back to Y/n’s cheeks, forcing her to look her aunt in the eyes. “Did you kill them?”

“N-no, but I did stab one with the knife you gave me. Got him good, he didn’t even notice my escape.”

Polly let a proud smile find it’s way onto her face. “Atta girl.” She turned to the boys. “You know what to do. Make them regret it or I’ll do it myself. Now,” Pol turned back to Y/n, smile returning to her face, “you, Ada, and I are going to go have some fun to celebrate your escape while the boys deal with the rats who were dumb enough to think they could kidnap Y/n fucking Shelby.”

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