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kissitbttr · 2 months

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mafia!toji first time meeting stripper!reader

a/n: reader is fem. and since i’ve been hit with biggest writers block known to a man, this one is inspired by one of my old work called gold. enjoy!

toji zenin is a ruthless man. that, you can definitely count on.

he’s known to be the one who shows little to no mercy. who’s soul isn’t as clean due to the countless of lives he had taken.

as crazy as it sounds, toji craves for the sound of piercing cries from someone who begs to spare them compassion. he likes to taunt them. mock them. pretending that he would eventually let them go just to see that little flicker of hope lighting upon their gaze.

a sinister smile would play coyly upon his lips before he decides the latter. pulling the trigger and watches the victim face planting the dark tile as their brains scatter all over the walls and floor.

it’s one way to teach people a lesson to not fuck with him. to not fuck with his business. because toji zenin is crazy like that.

he has no time for patience nor pity.

toji fixes the collar of his black sheer shirt, checking himself out in the mirror to make sure he looks good tonight. who are we kidding though? he’s toji fucking zenin,

tonight was supposed to be his day off. he had plans. before a motherfucker who runs a strip club decides to mess with him about the package deal and had almost lost him half of the money he’s supposed to own,

he could’ve let his right hand man to handle it. but this is bigger than anything he had ever done. is this goes to south, then one person’s death wouldn’t be the only thing on his agenda,

he’ll track down every single one of the bastards and kill them with his own hands,

however, tonight needs to be as clean as possible.he’s aware of the reputation he has put on himself to the world, so no point of hiding or camouflage. yet, he still doesn’t want to cause too much of a scene,

stepping away from the full length mirror, he swiftly picks his black velvet coat off the hanger before shrugging it on,

“talk to me, satoru” his heavy voice echoes the hallway as he steps out of the room to walk downstairs, watching a few of his men pocketing their weapons,

gojo satoru. his right hand man, nods,

“he’s there. word from bianco. he appears isn’t expecting you to stop by” he informs, showing toji the message on his phone. “it’s going to be crowded. but bianco is taking care of that right now. he’s got nowhere to run”

toji scoffs, snatching a glass of whiskey off the table before downing the remaining drink. “good. i need him to see me when he less expects it. owes me more than some fucking money” he mutters, tucking the G21 down his holster.

gojo raises an eyebrow. “G21? you’re going soft tonight eh, boss?”

toji shoots him a hard glare, one where the white haired man only chuckle at. “the car’s ready?”

another nod, gojo leads toji down towards the basement. “as requested. Lamborghini Murcielago. your personal favorite. packed with 640 PS and 471 Kw—i think you know what that means— rules around 213 mph if you consider on going hit and run. i packed a standard aeropack wing if you wanna go slow. windows? bulletproof. in case anyone tries to kill you” toji knows for a fact that gojo is only joking about the last part.

no one dares to try to take him down before he does it. it’s a pattern everyone knows by now,

toji lets out a low whistle, head softly shaking at the machine beauty before him. fingers tracing along the hood of the car,

“shit—you know i need to lay low, man? got anything less attractive?”

“i don’t do less. you know that, boss” he winks playfully, laughing to himself when he watches toji rolls his eyes. “besides. this thing right here will for sure earns you a bird. take her out on a stroll, bring her home. women love fast cars” he comments,

humming as a response, toji walks towards the driver’s seat. “i don’t date. were you born yesterday or something?” he speaks in a firm tone before catching the keys that gojo throws at him,

“no I wasn’t. but isn’t ‘she who shall not be named’ is like what? two years ago? and you got to stop with the one night stands. go get a girl tonight” he suggests, watching the dark haired man sliding himself into the car,

toji gives him a half hearted smile. “noted”

“i’ll be right behind you, boss. slow down, yeah?”

it takes about thirty minutes prior to arrival. toji blames it all on the traffic and the slow pedestrians crossing the road. cursing to himself every five seconds, each time he stops at red lights.

he parks his car close to the entrance before exiting from the vehicle, tossing his keys at one of the valet but not before roughly grabbing his collar and threaten to kill him if one scratch is prominent on his car.

clearing his throat, he walks into the bar. ignoring the stares and whispers at the sight of a notorious ruthless man who decides to pay the club a visit.

one thing he first to notice, the club is indeed packed. gojo wasn’t lying. as if God knew what is about to happen later on and isn’t going to let him get away with witnesses. he needs to play it safe tonight.

as he strides through the darkened room to find the table he had been reserved for, a few half naked girls walk right pass him. delicate fingers stroking his chest and brushing against his shoulders, making him smirk. he can’t lie, most of them are gorgeous and he’s tempted enough to touch their skin, but he has to hold it. not that he isn’t interested, because his mind changed. he is definitely taking someone back to his place tonight.

fucking gojo. he has to be right every time.

speak of the devil, the white haired man appears by his side in minutes. nodding his head towards the area where the business should be conducted. toji follows him close towards the end of the room,

he gently pulls back a chair for him to sit, as gojo and the two of his other men stands behind to watch over. toji specifically asks for the furthest table, with a glass of whiskey has been prepared for him.

toji feels irritated. he hates doing all of this dirty work just because some fucking bastard isn’t able to keep up with the deal. he should’ve known not to trust alec to do business, yet when the pathetic excuse of a man begged on his knees with a gun knocked against his head, toji thought why not? if he didn’t get to fulfill his demands, he gets to kill him either way.

“alright, alright—fuck! easy man!” alec’s frantic voice causes toji’s eyes to avert from the scene of the crowd. his eyebrows knitted, threatening gaze bores upon the man whose pushed forcefully by his men to sit, “mr. zenin! it’s always a pleasure to see you!”

mind that alec owes him more than fifty grand, and this fucker had the nerve to walk in and act like nothing happened,

he is definitely going to kill him,

“you don’t fucking talk to me that way, alec. i’m not your friend. you owe me something” toji warns, his finger pointing at him as he watches the trembling man gulp. “you remember?”

alec couldn’t feel more terrified as he casts a glance of toji’s gun on the table, facing towards him. “i—i know, man—sir” he corrects himself. “i didn’t forget. it’s just that the money is tight right now. the girls aren’t earning amount of money they—“

toji could only scoff, head thrown back. “i didn’t fucking hire your girls. i hired you. stop being a pussy and own up to that. you should know that me and patience never get along. i have one body bag left in my car and it would give me the tremendous pleasure writing your name on it” he grits his teeth, looking at alec with a dark look in his eyes as he balls his fist,

“i just need more time—“

“one month isn’t enough?!” toji barks, making alec jumps at the booming voice

“i need more. i promise. give me one more month. and i will do whatever you ask me to, sir zenin.” alec begs with hopeful eyes,

toji finds it disgusting and repulsive to see someone like him begging for mercy. or anyone at all. that gesture is weak and vulnerable. “i don’t give out second chances”

alec hears a gun clicks from behind. he doesn’t need to ask, he knows that one of the two men behind him is ready to blow his brains out. “sir zenin, please! just one more chance! please”

once again, toji isn’t a very patient man. he knows enough to understand that it’s a mistake. but he would love to see how this one goes, playing along with this little game of his.

toji isn’t a fool. never was.

he looks over at gojo, as if to ask what he thinks. the answer that gojo could give is ‘your choice, boss’

toji sighs, head shaking. “fine. you give me your best girl of the night, and i’ll give you one more month” he offers, taking a sip of his drink, leaning himself back to relax. “no more than that”

alec nods. though he feels like shitting himself because one month isn’t close enough for collecting the amount of money he owes toji to. still, he thinks this is better than nothing.

“take your pick, mr. zenin. or i could bring one or two here? we have twins in the back and they sure are on high demand, everyone has been begging me to—“

toji could only hum in response, not listening to a word he’s saying. his green eyes scanning over at the scene. the girls are putting on a show, showing off their skills, some are pulling a lap dance on a few customers. he cringes when one suddenly takes her bra off like she costs nothing. seems like none of these girls are his type. gorgeous? yes. but they don’t seem to do enough to make his cock twitch,

he’s about to take back the offer until his eyes fall on her. eyes widening in amusement and toji finds himself freezing on the spot.

a slight curvier woman has her leg hooked around the pole. long dark haired brushing against the marble floor as she arches her back slightly. toji observes the way her body moves so sensually yet gracefully, almost like a feather. the way she bites onto her pink glossed lips and how her eyes manage to flirt with the crowd with one simple look. she has them lured into her presence. himself included.

her body—fuck, he doesn’t even know where to begin. delicious curves cladded in navy blue bodysuit, full breasts supported by the cup of her outfit that bounces each time she moves. soft thick thighs wrapped by a white fishnet stockings and legs decorated in white fuzzy pumps. overall it’s quite revealing, but it still presents the modesty she has on her. he’s not quite sure if it’s the outfit or it’s just her,

but only a fool would assume that it isn’t the latter.

toji feels his pants growing tight when his gaze lowers to how her hips moving in circles. in painfully slow motion too. almost like she knows how to tease and she’s doing it so perfectly. if only he had spotted her from before, he would’ve move closer.

a damn fucking beauty she is.

“her. i want her” toji speaks in a firmer tone, almost territorial. he just can’t take his eyes off the woman. watching every single move and a wink being thrown.

he chuckles when she swats a couple of old hands who seems desperate to try and cope a feel with a dirty look on her face. he couldn’t make out what she’s saying but he knows for sure that she’s telling them off,

‘gorgeous and a fighter’ he thinks to himself

“angel? you want her?” alec asks after he realizes who he’s pointing at,

“that’s her real name?”

“no. she doesn’t let anyone know her real name. she goes by that ever since she starts working here” alec informs, watching toji nods,

so she’s new?

“some calls her birthday cake”

that makes toji’s brows scrunched. he is about to ask why the name until the answer is immediately given to him when she decides to do a side split, making her plump ass bounce against the floor.

oh that’s why

“gorgeous” toji breathes, cocking his head to the side. “not taken is she? not that i care anyway. what a fucking dime she is. you’re going to give her to me, correct?” his voice is threatening enough, dark eyes moving to look at alec who nods.

“yes! of course, sir! if that’s what you want”

“fuck yes i do. bring her to me” he demands before gulping down his drink, watching how alec immediately scrambles off the chair and hurries towards where angel is performing,

toji keeps his eyes set on the mysterious lady. refusing to move. he doesn’t want to miss a single thing. especially when she’s on her hands and knees, ass up in the air for the crowd to see and eyes looking over her shoulder earning cheer, applause and money flown just for her.

gojo lets out a wolf whistle. “good choice, zenin”

he hums, the girl now up on her feet. lifting herself up after she hooks her arm around the pole and give them a twirl. “tell me gojo. have you seen anyone as beautiful as she is?”

“definitely not. you just might hit the jackpot”

indeed he did. toji may have made a lot of mistakes but he’s never wrong when it comes to choosing partners . he’s always careful with it.

there is something so different about her and he’s very sure about it too. from how she’s not afraid to tell the men in the audience off, putting that smart mouth to use. unlike the girls he has seen around where they just take the humiliation. but her?

she fights back. just how he likes his women.

“fuck off alec, i mean it! my shift is almost over. i’m not interested being passed around to your friends or co-workers!”

he hears her protest. toji doesn’t even realize that she’s walking closer towards his table with alec’s grip around her elbow,

“who said anything about passing you around? i just need to introduce you to one of the most important men here!” alec defends,

“weird way of saying you want me to suck their cocks” she comments

a foul mouth indeed toji thinks

alec throws her a hard glare, in which she only scoffs and roll her eyes. “mr. toji zenin, I would like to introduce you to angel. she’s been here for almost a year now.”

toji grins at that, standing up from his chair and looks over at the beauty with a disinterested look on her face. seemingly look like she doesn’t want to be here. yet she smiles at him anyway, and he swears he has never seen something so pretty,

“nice to meet you, beautiful ” toji extends his hand for her to take, giving a soft kiss on it. his eyes aren’t looking away from hers. “hell. you’re even gorgeous up close”

she won’t deny it. this man is absolutely handsome. and she doesn’t see a lot of them working here. most are old and married, which something that she finds disgusting. but this man, toji? he is far from ugly.

first thing she noticed was how broad he’s built. the way he towers over her and he’s not even standing that close to her small figure. even the dark room fails to hide the definition of his muscles through the black shirt he’s wearing. and the thin scar over his pulled lips, showcasing a smirk.

is this man even a man?

as handsome as he is, angel raises an eyebrow, not feeling entirely influenced by the gesture. “so have you been observing me this whole time? that’s creepy”

“angel” alec hisses, gripping her elbow a bit tighter making her flinch a bit and her body to cowers a little.

“sorry” she mutters in irritation, gaze falling down to the floor

the interaction somehow irks toji to the bone. he eyes how alec treats her in front him, it would probably even worse behind closed doors.

he doesn’t even want to know.

“you can fucking let go now alec, you’re hurting her” toji demands, throwing him a sharp stare. alec’s pupils are wide open at that, causing him to release his grip almost immediately and for angel to nurse her reddening skin.

one thing that toji wouldn’t accept, is violence against women.

toji’s gaze beginning to soften yet again when he watches the pretty girl before him. how her long hair cascading down her back, exposing the sharp of her collarbones and valleys of her breasts,

if only her look of fear is replaced with a look of comfort,

“you can leave us be. thanks” toji coldly orders at alec, not wanting to be near his presence anymore. he’s had enough seeing that bastard,

he nods, avoiding his stare but not before muttering a ‘don’t fuck this up’ to angel before one toji’s men escorts him out,

“don’t worry about him doll. he’s gone, yeah?” he comforts her almost immediately, not wanting her to be scared anymore,

“oh—yeah, uhm thanks” she shoots him a smile. a genuine one this time, taking his hand in hers when he offers it. "so how do you want this--''

“if you don’t mind” he puts a hand behind her back immediately to guide her to the couch behind, earning a quizzical look on her face. “i want to get to know you first”

“mr. zenin. with all due respect, this is not a date. i’m working”

he chuckles at her forward response, still she lets him lead to the velvet couch. angel sits first, eyes glancing up for a moment and see a handsome white haired man with his arms crossed. he quickly removes himself from the presence and walk out. his other men following him from behind.

and now there’s just two.

“i just want to take my time with you. is that okay?” toji sits back down, watching her crossed her legs as she keeps the distance between them,

she smiles with a shrug, toying with the strap of her bra, “you could do that while i’m giving you a dance—if you want?”

toji makes a mental note on how her eyes glow under the violet lights when she stares at him. almost like it’s so easy for him to see what goes beyond that. they’re so so pretty. prettiest he’s ever seen indeed. despite the flirty tone lacing under her response, she still has the look of innocence that makes him smile back.

she’s no better too. the way he’s looking directly into her eyes should be a crime. his gaze speaks something. something… lustful and dangerous.

he nods, letting out a breathe of relief as he leans himself back before spreading his thighs as an invitation.

“show me what you got then gorgeous”

angel swears she can hear the beat of her heart getting louder the moment she sits herself down on his lap. still, without him having to suspect anything, she keeps her flirty persona for a show.

“my, my—you really are a fucking dime” he lowly whistles, eyes falling to the curve of her breasts. “i can see why people were loving you back there. hopefully they don’t get jealous when i stole you away”

she giggles, a small blush creeping on her cheeks. “aren’t you a flirt. you do this to every girl?”

toji places his hands on her plump ass, resting it there. he knows that there are rules where it’s forbidden you touch the dancers. but he doesn’t give a shit. and it’s not like anyone had the balls to tell him off anyway.

“only to those who i find interesting, baby” he says, eyes not looking away from the beauty as be squeezes her flesh making himself groan. “fuck me. that’s an ass? right here?”

his comment makes her laugh as she throws her head back. loving how genuine he actually sounds when he said that.

“so—mr. zenin” she begins, giving him a naughty smile as her hands finds their way to his shoulders, feeling how tense they are under his grip. “what brings you to this awful depth of town, hm?”

he clears his throat, wetting down the bottom of his mouth while keeping his hands steady on her hips. finding no desire to move them. “business. your bastard of a boss owes me something. I didn’t think i would actually be here right now, accompanied by a gorgeous woman like yourself”

damn. he sure is charming and cheeky. definitely a player. “you sure are a sweet talker, mr. zenin” she tells him before slowly beginning to grind against his bulge causing him to exhale another deep groan. “are you sure—you don’t make bitches wet talking like that?”

he mutters a low ‘christ’ when he feels himself growing hard under her sultry move, yet she isn’t stopping. and she only had just started. “believe me doll, i’ve had my fair shares with many—but damn, they sure don’t make me hard like you do—cross my heart”

her hips the move in tiny circles, keeping a painfully slow pace but enough to keep him satisfied. “i don’t trust you but okay—anyway, what did you and alec talked about anyway?��

“nosy, huh?”

she rolls her eyes. “i have the right to ask since he practically sold me to you for tonight—my shift was supposed to be over, mr. zeni—“

“toji” he cuts her off, thumb softly stroking against her hip bone

“what was that?”

“just call me toji” he repeats with a small grin. “and okay that’s fair—he has something very important of mine. was supposed to pay a month ago, but that piece of shit isn’t known to be the one who keeps his promises”

she hums in response, leaning herself back slowly and rests her palms upon his knees to keep her body steady. her hips are now moving back and forth.

toji shamelessly let his eyes wander down from her breasts to her thick thighs. “i was going to blow his brains out tonight. right here. on this one spot. but he begged like a bitch and i wanted to see how far he goes” he laughs almost darkly,

it scares her a little by how calm he’s being about murdering someone. with the way his eyes staring at her aren’t really helping too. like a predator eyeing his prey. almost like he knows how to make her weak on the knees.

“looks like he’s in big big trouble, then” she giggles cutely. “not surprised anyway. he owes alot of money to the girls too. mine included”

he cocks an eyebrow, feeling himself tensing. “does he now? how long?”

“can’t count. i had to pull bunch of shitty excuses to the landlord just so he won’t kick me out of the apartment. half of our earnings each night, goes to him. saying that he’ll pay me back but I know he never will” she spills casually, then her movement comes into a halt. “oh fuck, don’t tell him i said that”

with a chuckle, his head shakes. “i won’t. but i could kill him for you, if you want me to. just say the word” he speaks lowly, continuing to admire her body. “mind if i ask how long have you been working here?”

it takes her a while to answer. “almost a year. I quit college for this. not because i love it entirely, but i couldn’t pay for it anymore.” she sighs,

“i’m sorry to hear that. what were you studying?”

“bio-engineering” she smiles, “people tend to be surprised when i told them that”

“count me in as well, sweetheart, damn. not only she’s hot as fuck but she’s smart too?” he shakes his head in disbelief. “you even real, right now?”

she laughs, flipping her hair. “thank you, toji—can i ask you something?”

he hums, callouses hands move towards her back, holding her steady,

“what happened there” she points at the scar, struggling to find the urge not to trace her fingers across it,

he shrugs, “was from a fight years ago. nothing major”

“can i—touch it?” she softly asks him, looking so innocent yet teasingly,

toji smirks, head nodding. “go ahead, baby” he speaks in a low baritone. voice so deep and flirty that it almost makes her squirm,

she ignores the butterflies in her stomach when he calls her that. and without being told twice, she leans closer and her fingers reach out to pad the scar gently. feeling how soft his lips against her skin, paying attention to every single detail of it. wondering how on earth could a scar fit someone so perfectly.

there is no doubt on her mind, that he is the sexiest man she has ever come across to. she can feel the weight of his palm lowering itself down to her plump cheek, squeezing it. usually, she would tell anyone off for touching her like that. but this time, she doesn’t say anything. not because she’s afraid of him but she feels strangely turned on.

“fuck” he breathes out, feeling her ass one more time. hearing him like that just makes her giggle as she gradually picks up the pace grinding on him, catching toji off guard.

“such a naughty little girl—bet you wouldn’t mind having that ass spanked now would you?” he whispers against her ear, biting his lower lip hard.

though she would admit that she wouldn’t, she won’t allow him to win this game. she slowly shakes her head with a smirk, removing herself off his lap causing him to whine. angel spins around, not without swaying her ass side to side, sneaking a glance to make sure he’s watching,

her hand immediately circles around the pole in front of them. “dinner is mandatory if you want to go down to that path, mr. zenin”

toji watches carefully with lust and admiration as she now securing her arm around the golden pole, lifting herself off easily and give her body a gentle spin. eyes screwed shut and head thrown back. coming back down slowly, she re-enacts the movement from where she performed for the audience. legs spread apart, landing in a perfect split. long brown hair covering the side of her beautiful features, tongue licking her upper lip.

he follows the curve of her ass, eager to get his hands on them but he knows that he has to wait. there, he spots a small heart tattoo inked on her ass cheek,

angel is a little teaser. that’s for sure. enjoying herself too much in making a man hard yet refuses to be under the spell of a man’s touch. he likes that actually. likes that a lot. it may be painful to have his cock hard at the moment while she’s not doing anything about it but she’s worth it.

so, so worth it.

“you are so. fucking. sexy.” his voice switches into something darker, a seductive grin slowly forming as he thirsts over her. “must have made a lot of men mad out there”

“so i have been told” she declares with confidence, innocent smile pulling upon her lips as she begins to gently crawl towards him, eyes never leaving his.

she halts in between his open legs, settling on her knees. being the little minx she is, her hands find a place on top of his thighs. “i sense you carry danger everywhere you go, mr. zenin—am i wrong?”

she’s not dumb. she spotted his gun strapped against his holster an hour before she was even being introduced to the man.

he delicately caresses her soft cheek, almost came in his pants when she leans against his palm. “why? that scares you?” he moves a few strands of hair that are blocking his view of her pretty face,

she shakes her head, a smile doesn’t leave her face. in fact, he hears a soft giggle escapes her.

his eyes move from the curve of her breasts and up to her mouth. eyeing the way that pink gloss compliments her pretty skin.

“would love to have a taste—right here” toji whispers, his thumb grace her lower lip. his breath immediately hitches, and a groan rumbles deep in his chest the moment she opens her mouth.

“fuck—what a good girl” he moans lowly when she lets his thumb rest upon her warm wet tongue. the angelic look in her eyes disappears and is replaced with a look of lust. “s-shit” it takes him by surprise when she decides to suckle it, head bobbing her head up and down painfully slow,

“jesus—i wish it was my cock you’re sucking right now, baby” nonetheless, the amount of pleasure she’s giving him is enough to keep him satisfied,

“holy fuck, wow” she pops her lips off his thumb. wiping the saliva from the corner of her mouth before giggling again. the sound makes toji smile. genuinely.

“you’re trouble” he comments with a tsk, chuckling at the way she shrugs innocently as if she has no idea what he’s talking about. “alright. up you get, baby”

she gives him a questionable look, following his movement and rise to her feet. “mr. zenin, we still have thirty minutes left. alec gave me at least an hour and he would be upset if i—“

“if he touches you, you tell me and i’ll kill him. understand?” toji sternly orders, brows furrowing at the thought of that lowlife bastard putting his hands on her,

she’s baffles at that. how could he know what goes behind closed doors? still she nods anyway. “yes, sir”

“toji, baby. toji” he corrects with a smile. “besides, if i stayed for another ten minutes, i’ll l cream in my pants and that would be embarrassing” he shamelessly points out. she blushes at that and it makes toji’s heart skips a bit,

“this doesn’t mean it’s a one and done. i would love to see you again, sweetheart. can’t let you go too far now can i?” he pulls out his wallet from his back pocket and hands her thick amount of hundreds. “here you go, angel”

she gasps softly as her eyes go big, shocked by the bundle of cash in his hand. if she counts it right that’s gotta be at least close to one grand.

“toji this is—fuck this is too much, I—i can’t take these. twenty or fifteen is enough for me”

he frowns. who in the right mind think it’s okay for men to tip a gorgeous woman with a rocking body some loose change? fucking assholes.

“baby, you do realize who you’re talking to? i don’t give out twenty or less” he quirks an eyebrow, watching her adorable expression. “money isn’t a problem to me. a grand isn’t a problem to me. come on, you deserve it”

she stares down at his hand and hesitantly takes the money. flashing him a wide smile. “mr—i mean, toji, oh my god thank you so much. thank you, thank you!” without any second thoughts, she jumps out and wrap her arms around his neck,

“you don’t know how much this means to me. i needed this”

toji stumbles a bit, the sudden movement surprises him but he appreciates it. the way she keeps thanking him, muttering couple of blessings has somehow gives his heart a little kick,

a good one.

“no need to thank me, baby” toji grins, holding her by the waist to keep her secured for a moment before pulling away. “you take care of yourself yeah? don’t be wandering too far. would love to take you out on a stroll” he leans down to peck her cheek,

“I’ll be sure to stop by and see you again, gorgeous” with one last devilish smile, he walks out of the room. leaving her still in complete shock,

he is no ordinary man, alright. it kinda makes her feel a bit weird by all the butterflies that are erupting her stomach by how he acted earlier. has it been.. what? two or three years since she had been engaged in any sort of relationships with a man. and there has been no real man crawling around this city. only rats. she fucking hates rats.

but toji zenin? there’s definitely something about him that makes his whole aura and appearance a lot more sexier. again, she’s not stupid. she has seen the gun. observed his interaction with her boss. and the men he had protecting him suits?

that’s no 9-5 man. it’s dirty work.

and it should’ve scared her. it should’ve been a warning made for her to run and avoid him because he’s a man that carries danger everywhere he goes. toji zenin is a man that would not hesitate to paint the whole town in blood of his victims if one ever crosses his territory.

yet as she glances down at the bills being handed at her and promise from him that he would see her again, it makes her smile. heart thumping at the thought of the beautiful man coming back only for her.

angel clutches the money against her chest, squealing as she does little bounces in her heels with a giggle. overjoyed with the amount of cash that would help her,

she’s definitely making toji her new favorite client

#mafia!toji #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro blurbs #toji fushiguro smut #jjk

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chuuyasheaven · 9 months

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5th day with chuuya?? I need more jealous chuuya content

"I’m gonna fuck you up, fuck you until you ask me for more.." - Hands up! by 6arelyhuman !!

Tags: Chuuya Nakahara / afab! Reader, PM! Reader, jealous! Chuuya, jealous sex, rough sex, slight dumbification, pet names, degrading / praising kink, slight choking, teasing, hickeys, fingering, soft to rough! Chuuya, ooc?, smudged makeup, overstim, might contain grammar errors, rushed, quite long lol, etc.

Notes: SORRY FOR BEING SO SLOW; first of all, my asshole of a father took my damn phone, so i have to write on the computer now.(until I get it back). Also depression has been kicking me in my gut!! Anyway, enough abt me and let's carry on!! HOPE YOU ENJOY MWAH !!;:)

Update(two days later): THIS SHI BE LONG ASF BUT IDC ENJOY THIS FILTH RAHHH‼️

You put on one of your most expensive dresses on for this mission. Your make up was perfectly done too, and all this not even for him!

Just because you had to seduce the target to get them killed, still, this was just unfair to Chuuya..

"Hey, pretty,", you heard comming from behind you, assuming it was the victim to be. When you turned around, you were right. The target was hitting on you, infront of Chuuya too, just like you planed.

“Can I help you?”, you asked with a seductive tone, the target smiled at you, completely ignoring Chuuya. “Yes, you could, by coming home with me, sweetheart.”, you couldn’t wait until taking his life, this was getting annoying.

“I would love to, handsome.”, you responded, cringing at your own response. You weren’t enjoying this, this felt so wrong, but you clearly weren’t the only one thought that.

As you took a quick side glance, you noticed how Chuuya was giving him the death stares. You played it off as if it was nothing, then you felt how the target put their hand on your shoulder.

“Let’s go, we couldn’t miss the fun now, could we?”, you didn’t want to say anything, so you just left with him. Chuuya followed without you knowing though.

When the Victim entered his car, while closing his door. You got ready to shoot him dead on the spot, but Chuuya did so before you even got the chance.

As the target laid there dead in the car, you closed the door and Chuuya brought you home on his motorcycle, not even saying a word to you.

At home, you walked into your room, not noticing Chuuya again. Sitting down onto your shared bed, you just let out a sigh.

Suddenly, he came through the door unannounced. This startled you a little bit, but he just stood there. Feeling confused, you decided to ask him why he was acting this way.

“Look, sweetheart, I know this mission was really weird and all, but-,”, you got interrupted by Chuuya grabbing your arm slightly harsh. He pulled you up rather quickly and pressed you up against him. “What a-are you doing?-”, again you were interrupted by him.

This time, it was by a kiss, a kiss so gentle but yet possessive. It truly caught you off guard, but you didn't complain, he kept on kissing you.

Chuuya pulled away shortly, then kissed you again, harder this time, with more hunger and lust. While he was kissing you, he kept on walking towards the wall until he cornered you there.

Chuuya pulled away again, looking deep into your eyes. “I couldn't wait to finish off that bastard, i can't stand when someone takes something that's mine.”, he growled into your ear. “Guess I'll have to mark you up tonight..”, he added on, you looked away from that remark, knowing what he was talking about.

You felt your face being positioned back to look at him, Chuuya was grabbing your chin, as you looked at him you could see him smirking. “Unless you don't want me to, i won't force ya, darling,”, Chuuya said, hinting for you to whether consent or not.

Nodding 'yes' as an answer, Chuuya looked at you, like a hunter would look at it's prey. “Good, 'cause i won't be going easy at it either.”, he warned, hinting what he was about to do.

He went back to kissing you, his hands held you by your waist. You melted into the kiss, letting go once again, Chuuya licked his lips. “Be good for me, will you, princess?”, you nodded again.

“Good girl.”, Chuuya said before he went down on your neck, kissing down his way to your collarbone. You let out quiet but soft whimpers, which got him to smirk against your skin.

“Sensitive, huh?”, Chuuya slightly teased as his knee made it’s way between your thighs. As he gently removed the straps of your dress, he pulled it down until it reached your stomach, revealing your favorite bra.

Chuuya kissed his way to your nipples, sucking on them lightly. Your whimpers got louder, knowing your super sensitive there. When he was done with that, he patted on your thighs, you knew what he meant.

You jumped up for him, he caught you mid-air and held you by his waist, his grip was firm so you wouldn’t fall.

Now he was kissing your lips again, smudging your lipstick. Chuuya turned around and carried you back to bed, placing you there. Your arms still clung around his neck while he was topping you.

Separating yourselves from the kiss, Chuuya smirked at you while he ripped off your dress. “C-chuuya, this was-”, “I know, baby, I’ll buy you plenty more of ‘em, promise..”, he promised you.

The ripped dress hit the floor, now you were in black laced panties under him, and he was enjoying the view. Chuuya was still in his clothes, even his gloves, the same gloves which were pushing your panties to the side to finger you.

His fingers were inside of your cunt, making you feel good. Since you were wet anyway, he already got slick on his gloves. “Look at how wet you’re for me, slut.”, Chuuya said to you.

You felt your first release near, as his fingers were buried deep inside you, every spot was reached almost perfectly. When your knot snapped, you tried to warn him, but failed. Chuuya pulled out his fingers, looking at the mix of slick and cum stained on his black gloves. “Now you got my gloves dirty..but that’s okay,”, Chuuya claimed while licking some of it. “You taste so fuckin’ good, so I’ll let it slide.”, you looked at him as he removed your panties completely. You got desperate now, you wanted his cock to replace the emptiness inside your pussy, and he clearly knew because you were dripping slick again.

“Oh? Wet again, darling?”, you looked away in embarrassment and desperation, suddenly Chuuya was hovering over you again, grabbing your chin. Giving your lips a quick peck while smirking at you, you talked again.

“Chuuya. P-please..”, you said quietly. “Please what? Speak up f’me, princess..”, Chuuya asked in a mockingly tone. “Need you so bad, p-please,”, you slurred at him, Chuuya could feel his cock harden up at this. “Really? How bad do you want it?”, he denied you even longer.

“S’bad, I need you so fucking bad, please.,”, you paused for a few seconds, “I need your dick inside me, need you to fuck me, Chuuya..”, you begged, now he couldn’t eventually deny you any longer, he needed you now.

Chuuya looked satisfied with this, he slightly aggressively removed his pelt and freed himself from his pants and boxers. “Such a needy whore, hm?”He gave his cock a few small rubs and pushed it past your walls.

You slightly tense up at the feeling, but pleasure followed after. Chuuya then thrusted into you with force, rough and desperate, he was finally fucking you!

You grip the sheets, his skin clapping against yours, huffs and moans were heard from you. His dick reached all the right places, when Chuuya held your legs up to his waist, you could feel him even deeper inside. “F-fuck,”, he cursed under his breath, “You’re suckin’ me in, tell me, who’s fuckin’ you this good?”, Chuuya asked while he waited your response. “Y-you, Chuuya. Nobody else, j-just you- ah!”, you almost shouted when his tip hit your sweet spot.

“Good girl, seems like I found your special spot, right?”, Chuuya asked in a teasing tone, as he hit that spot repeatedly now. You nodded, he chuckled. Your orgasm started to build up again. The urge to cum was big, to you and Chuuya, at this point he started to grunt by every thrust. Deciding to add more pleasure, he started to draw lazy circles on your clit, now your grip on the sheets got more firm.

Chuuya’s thrusts got more sloppier and messy but were still rough, the overstimulation becoming too much for you, your knot snapped faster. Your sweet release washed over you.

After you, Chuuya came right inside you, filling you up. It felt like a lot, and it probably was, or it wouldn’t be spilling out slightly past Chuuya’s cock. Actually, why hasn’t he pulled out yet?

“—Well, seems like I’ll be needing to fill you again, princess. You might need to take a day off because you won’t be walking tomorrow..I will make sure of it.”

That’s very hot of you, Chuuya.. meow. ;3

IMPORTANT NOTE: I might need to pause this event because I’m traveling with my family! So I’ll be able to post like 2-3 fics before I go! Sorry that it came so sudden, but I promise I’ll be very productive after!! Until then, bye pookies!!

#chuuya smut #bungo stray dogs smut #chuuya nakahara smut #bsd smut #chuuya x reader #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #Rei’s Events !! 🎀

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stardustoftarth · 1 year

Text

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐓 || 𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐄𝐍

⇢ 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 - 18+/smut || Minors DNI || fem!reader

⇢ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 - 4.1k (I got a bit carried away with this one)

⇢ 𝐀/𝐍 - Haven't been able to get this smug lil man out of my head since the finale. I thought I was going to be a Harwin girl all the way, yet here I am writing for Aemond first. Absolutely used Alys Rivers as inspiration while writing this - I adore her.

Huge shout out to my incredible beta reader @larys-strong, thank you for putting up with my antics and my asoiaf/hotd obsession. That being said I haven't written in a while (especially smut), so please be kind with my takes. Any feedback is very much appreciated! εïз

𝐀 = 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 (𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲’𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱)

ღ┆ Aemond doesn’t have the most dutiful bedside manner when you first start sleeping together. He’s not used to having someone else to care for - typically only concerned about his own pleasure. But as he begins to realize just how much he cares for you that will all change.

ღ┆ Placing soft kisses over any bruises he’s inflicted - silently apologizing for any lingering pain he’s caused. Rare moments of tenderness from a man with a reserved, serious demeanor.

ღ┆ Finding solace in your embrace - he won’t care to admit it out loud but his favorite moments are those spent held in your arms. Head resting comfortably on your chest while you run your fingers through his long hair - soothing away his worries.

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𝐁 = 𝐁𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 (𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫’𝐬)

ღ┆ Aemond’s quite aware of his good looks, even with his scarred face. Body lean and muscled after years of sword training - a fine tuned instrument for battle. He’s quite fond of his hands, loving how deft and nimble they are while wielding his dagger. Or when buried deep between your legs working at your center.

ღ┆ Your body is like a sacred temple to him - one he savors exploring over and over. Discovering every single piece you have to offer and committing each part to memory. He’s particularly fond of your breasts. How full they look pressed in your tight dresses, spilling out with each breath taken. How they feel when he has you in his hands, soft and supple. The sounds you make when he takes one in his mouth, flicking the raised nub with his tongue.

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𝐂 = 𝐂𝐮𝐦 (𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐮𝐦, 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲)

ღ┆ Loves marking you with his cum. How it looks pooling on your stomach, dripping down your thighs, shooting onto your face - his possessive nature is to thank for that. Loves seeing you eager and wanting for him, it triggers something primal deep within him.

ღ┆ At first he will fight against every instinct he has to keep from finishing in you. The burdens of his royal blood are a constant reminder of his responsibilities and expectations. A bastard child is not something he’d particularly wish to bring into the world. It will take some reassurance but he’ll eventually see that you’re committed to him and willing to take that risk - moon tea is only one call away after all.

ღ┆ Without question he’s going to work at you until you’re fully dripping. He gets such satisfaction from knowing he’s the one causing your pleasure. Teasing you if you get worked up too quickly, secretly loving how turned on you get from him.

ღ┆ “Someone was eager for me tonight, hmm?”

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𝐃 = 𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 (𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲, 𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫𝐬)

ღ┆ He might secretly deny it but he enjoys being dominated by you. Relinquishing any sort of control that was once his while you have your way with him. Vocalizing what you’re planning on doing to him - how you’re going to treat him and have your way with him. He’s never quite as spent as he is on the nights you take the lead.

ღ┆ Fantasizes about taking you in the dragon pit. It’s a place of power to him and he loves the thought of pleasuring you up against one of the tall stone pillars - torches casting light over your bodies as they flicker. The danger involved only adding to the sense of urgency felt by the both of you.

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𝐄 = 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 (𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲? 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲’𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠?)

ღ┆ Experienced enough to know what he’s doing, but he’s had a relatively few number of previous partners - and even fewer true romantic relationships. He’s usually more content with getting himself off and not having to worry about needless chatting or feelings that tend to surface with relationships. He desires someone more independent - not wanting to be bothered with fickle women who are only interested in him for his royal blood.

ღ┆ That being said he would be incredibly turned on if you took control in the bedroom. The idea of being with someone who has more experience than him excites him. Someone who’s not afraid to take charge and knows exactly what it is she wants from him. He’d be happy to let you take the reins every once in a while.

ღ┆ "You always fuck me so good. You ought to be proud to be my girl."

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𝐅 = 𝐅𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨�� (𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠)

ღ┆ Cowgirl - Nothing is sexier to him than getting to watch you ride him and chase your own pleasure on his cock. Your thighs would fill his hands as he held onto you, occasionally running up your front to grab your breasts while you rode him. He’d shift his grip to your hips when he got close, not being able to help himself from thrusting up into you while pulling you down to meet him.

ღ┆ Doggy-style - When he’s feeling more dominant he’ll prefer this. Getting a front row view of your ass while he pounds into you from behind - his hand snaking around your front to play with your clit as he works. In a rush he’d take you over a dresser or table, your skirts hastily hiked up around your waist - allowing him immediate access.

ღ┆ Blow Job - Plain and simple - Aemond loves getting his dick sucked by you. The expert way your hand works at him before bringing yourself to your knees in front of him. Giving small, teasing licks to the tip while you look up at him from beneath your lashes. Tease him like that long enough and he may just lose restraint and take matters into his own hands. Hand knotting in your hair as he fucks your eager mouth.

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𝐆 = 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐟𝐲 (𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭? 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬? 𝐞𝐭𝐜.)

ღ┆ Quite serious for the most part - Aemond is an intense lover. Making love to you is something he takes very seriously. He’s a very passionate man and when he gets time alone with you he wants to express that to you. He can be a bit teasing at times if the situation permits it, but he’s always 100% focused on the task at hand.

ღ┆ If you’re feeling a bit playful he might indulge you, especially if alcohol was had beforehand. But afterwards you can usually get him to loosen up and let his guard down. He’ll recount the humorous things that happened earlier in the day - complaining about the lords and ladies of the court.

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𝐇 = 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐫 (𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲? 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐩𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐬? 𝐞𝐭𝐜.)

ღ┆ He’s Targaryen royalty, he’s going to be well groomed and cleanly. He has a fine trail of hair on his otherwise smooth abdomen leading down to his crotch. Nothing too wild, he keeps himself neatly groomed.

ღ┆ In the midst of your passions you often find yourself reaching up to undo the tie in his hair - fingers running through his long strands holding him to you, your hand knotted securely at the back of his head. His long blond hair tickling you as it drapes over your neck and chest.

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𝐈 = 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐲 (𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭? 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭)

ღ┆ Getting Aemond to vocalize his feelings for you can be difficult at first - but that’s not to say that he isn’t interested. As you learn more about each other you’ll find that what first started out as physical attraction has shifted into something more. What was once an outlet for lustful passion now a deep connection that both of you have come to seek comfort in.

ღ┆ His love towards you is shown in the light kisses he places over your face and neck. When he’s especially worked up words will evade him and his love will be expressed in soft grunts and pants in your ear. Praising your body with his hands as they roam and seek to map every square inch of you.

ღ┆ One of the more intimate things you’ve had transpire is the removal of his eyepatch when you’re together - a vulnerability he allows with you after some time together. There’s a gentle tenderness shared between the both of you the first time you reach up and unlace the cover. His brief hesitation before submitting to your touch a reminder of the pain he still holds - though the wound has long since healed.

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𝐉 = 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟𝐟 (𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧)

ღ┆ After first meeting you he found his thoughts drifting ever more often to those of you - unable to keep his thoughts away from those of you and your body. Cursing his imagination for sabotaging his usual composure.

ღ┆ Eventually those thoughts started creeping in while he took care of his needs. The feel of your sweet lips on his, the swell of your breasts filling his hands as he holds you, the sounds you’d make as he grazed your wet center.

ღ┆Loves thinking about your hand easing between your legs working on yourself while thoughts of him flood your mind. How slick and wet your hand would feel as you writhe beneath your own touch. On occasion he’ll ask you to touch yourself while he watches - his intense gaze finding yours for a moment of shared passion.

ღ┆ "You drive me so crazy when you're like this, so needy."

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𝐊 = 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤 (𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬)

ღ┆ Praise kink - An obvious one - after a lifetime of being put down even the smallest amount of praise will have this man eating out of the palm of your hand. Tell him how good he feels inside you - how big he is and how well he fucks you. Encouraging words like this will leave him weak, and he’ll finish relatively quickly if you’re not careful.

ღ┆ Edging - Be prepared for what he has in store. Knowing you desire him and want him is the biggest turn on for Aemond. The sweet sound of your voice begging for him while he repeatedly denies you release. He’s going to be sure to work you until you’re completely spent - only allowing you to finish once he’s had his fill of your pleading.

ღ┆ Size Kink - Not so much a kink he has, but rather one he looks for in a partner. Something about hearing you express how full you make him feel, how large he is, drives him mad. Vocalizing how he makes you feel also plays into that aforementioned praise kink.

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𝐋 = 𝐋𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨)

ღ┆ Nothing beats the intimacy of his chambers. Bending you over a table, a lazy fuck on the couch, the possibilities are endless.

ღ┆ He’s known to take you wherever you happen to be when the moment arises. In a secluded corridor that someone (hopefully) won’t walk down. Hastily lifting your skirts and taking you right there in the hall. Or in the training grounds when everyone else has gone inside for the evening and you search him out. Dirt soiling your dress as he lays you down, your attempts at moving to a more private area thwarted.

ღ┆ Once your relationship is more serious he’ll take you for rides on Vhagar. Landing the two of you in some secluded oasis, perfect for a day spent in your embrace.

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𝐌 = 𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐨𝐧, 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠)

ღ┆ Praise! Be vocal about what he’s making you feel. Tell him how good he is at fucking you - he is never going to get tired of it. There is little he isn’t willing to do if you’re begging him for it. Perhaps it’s something as simple as him being full of himself or more likely, it plays on his need to be wanted by someone - to be accepted for who he is.

ღ┆ Just seeing your figure throughout the day, knowing you’ll be crawling into his bed at night. Your loud moans echoing off the walls as he takes you - hands grasping at his shoulders pulling him to you. And if you decide to get on top and take things into your own hands? He’ll be praying he doesn’t finish too quick with all you have in store for him.

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𝐍 = 𝐍𝐨 (𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐝𝐨, 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐬)

ღ┆ Degradation - Doesn’t do well with being degraded or harshly teased. A lifetime of jokes at his expense has taken its toll on him and he tends to shut down if it’s severe enough. However, he’d be open to degrading you if that’s something you’re into or comfortable with.

ღ┆ Threesome/Orgies - Aemond wouldn’t be comfortable sharing you with others - at least not when he isn’t the one pleasuring you. The thought of someone else having the privilege to give you pleasure wouldn’t sit well with him. He would need you to be his completely.

ღ┆ Overall he would be willing to try anything at least once if you expressed an interest in it. Anything that has the possibility of bringing you more pleasure is something he’s open to trying.

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𝐎 = 𝐎𝐫𝐚𝐥 (𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.)

ღ┆ Aemond’s a bit greedy and any occasion you offer your mouth to him he will graciously accept. Enjoying the power he feels when you are on your knees before him - worshiping him in a moment of silent devotion.

ღ┆ Slick with precum before you’ve even put your mouth to him, stroking him with skilled hands that know how to work him just the way he likes. His hands knotting in your hair when he’s close - holding you in place as he finishes with stuttered thrusts into your mouth. At times he’ll pull out to finish himself on your face, eyes watching his seed roll down over you.

ღ┆ Though he typically prefers to receive that’s not to say he wouldn’t return the favor for you as well. He’s not one to forget debts owed so be prepared for him to deliver in full. Mouth planting light kisses down your chest and stomach as he works his way down your body. His face finding your center - tongue working at your swollen nub with a steady, constant pressure that leaves you pressing into him, begging him for more.

ღ┆ "Hmmm, you taste so good on my tongue. And all this just for me?"

══════════════════════

𝐏 = 𝐏𝐚𝐜𝐞 (𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡? 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥? 𝐞𝐭𝐜.)

ღ┆ If he had a stressful day be prepared for fast and rough - using your body to relieve the tension that’s built up. He’d make his way to your room in search of respite - finding safe harbor in your body for the evening. Nights like these almost always end with you both going multiple rounds, unable to help yourselves or keep your hands from one another.

ღ┆ When less urgency is demanded your sessions can be long and drawn out - each of you taking your time in exploring the other. Slow and sensual kisses. Hands gliding over each other languidly in long, drawn out grazes that have you aching for more. Aemond’s slow, deep thrusts draw out your pleasure and leave you clinging to him, holding him as close as your bodies will allow.

══════════════════════

𝐐 = 𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐞 (𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐧, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.)

ღ┆ Often. The two of you are insatiable. Anytime you’re able to find a few fleeting moments alone your hands are instinctively reaching out for each other. Fingers lazily hooking together as you hurry through the halls in search of a hidden alcove. Sultry glances passing between the both of you, anticipating what’s to come. Hastily unhooking buttons, carelessly throwing pieces of clothing down in your wake.

ღ┆ Aemond has no regard for privacy. The thought of someone catching you two in the throes of passion is both a turn on and an encouragement. He wants others to know you’re his and what better way than by fucking you into the wall in hopes someone catches a glimpse. Your hand clamped over your mouth, stifling the moans that threaten to spill from your lips.

ღ┆ “Hush now, don’t want to give away our nice little spot do we?”

══════════════════════

𝐑 = 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐤 (𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭? 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐤𝐬? 𝐞𝐭𝐜.)

ღ┆ Aemond the Kinslayer, rider of Vhagar, a risk taker? Risk taking is all this man knows. If there’s something you’d like to try he’s willing to give it a go. Experimentation and risk taking go hand in hand for him. If you have any kinks that you want to try out he’s all for it - anything that has a possibility of bringing you more pleasure is worthwhile for him.

ღ┆ Aemond’s not one for modesty - he enjoys showing off his possessions and by association includes you. He’s particularly fond of having his way with you in compromising positions, secretly hoping that someone finds you in the thralls of passion. Atop a balcony overlooking King’s Landing, behind a long forgotten tapestry - all are fair game with him.

══════════════════════

𝐒 = 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚 (𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐠𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐫? 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭?)

ღ┆ Man has stamina for days. After years of training with a sword his endurance would be unparalleled. Blood of the dragon flows through his veins - there is a fire in him that’s ignited when he’s with you. One that burns only hotter with each moment you spend entwined.

ღ┆ After a particularly testing day he’d take you swiftly and be relentless in his strokes. Your legs shaking from exertion, bodies tangled together in the aftermath of your passions. Never pausing for too long before crawling back to indulge himself in you once again.

ღ┆ He finishes embarrassingly quick when your mouth is on him. After so long together you know how to work him in just the right way.

ღ┆ "It's going to be a short night if you keep that up. Gods."

══════════════════════

𝐓 = 𝐓𝐨𝐲𝐬 (𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐲𝐬? 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦? 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬?)

ღ┆ Depending on what toys exist in the world of Westeros, Aemond would be game to using them. Once your relationship blossoms into something more than just physical attraction the idea of using toys would become a bit more intriguing to him.

ღ┆ Using restraints to tie your hands back as he as he teases you - denying you the release you so desperately crave. Hands involuntarily grasping at the air in search of some sort of footing as he works you. He loves having control of you in this position - blissed out and begging for any kind of salvation from his teasing.

ღ┆ A silky blindfold tied around your eyes, leaving you entirely at his mercy. The deprivation of your sight enhances your other senses and causes even the lightest of touches to feel as if flames are left on your skin in their wake. At times he’ll take it even further, using hot wax to make those feelings of flames ever closer to reality.

══════════════════════

𝐔 = 𝐔𝐧𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫 (𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞)

ღ┆ In public he’d whisper little jokes knowing that only you could hear him. Always finding the perfect insult to hurl at some unknowing recipient. Hoping to find something that would work in catching you off guard and crack your resolve in front of others.

ღ┆ But oh come ON, you just know he would be absolutely brutal with his teasing behind closed doors. We all know this man loves to instigate and in the bedroom he'd be no different. Quite possibly worse.

ღ┆ Relentless with his little quips, saying just about anything to see you flustered and blushing. Pushing you to your limit over and over to see you beg him for sweet release, not even minding how needy you sound. Working himself up while edging you over and over until you can't think straight you're so pent up.

ღ┆ "Tell me what it is you want. I want to hear you beg for it. I want you to beg for me."

══════════════════════

𝐕 = 𝐕𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐞 (𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.)

ღ┆ He’s usually pretty quiet and controlled, able to maintain his composure through most of your time together. As he gets closer and his resolve weakens he would start to let a few moans slip. Groaning into your ear as he finishes - your name a silent prayer released from his lips.

ღ┆ When you’re on top he’ll be at his most vocal - expressing his adoration for you while you’re in full view of him. If you work him especially well you can elicit more of those delicious sounds from his lips. His usual composed composition gone as you use his body to chase your own high.

ღ┆ Prefers to hear you and the gasps and sighs of pleasure that fall from your lips. Enjoys having you beg for him - drawing out those sweet words of desire from your lips. They give him the reassurance he seeks that you’re his and his alone. He’s a simple man, he needs to be needed and he wants others to know he’s the source of your pleasure.

══════════════════════

𝐖 = 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐝 (𝐚 𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫)

ღ┆ You first catch Aemond’s eye while he is praticing on the training grounds. Silently watching from the sidelines as he hones his skills with the sword. His usual focus shattered as his thoughts were drawn back to your mysterious figure.

ღ┆ Not one known for excessive gift giving, Aemond will surprise you one evening with a blue sapphire necklace that mirrors his own. He’ll expect you to wear it with pride - a symbol of his devotion to you. What he won’t expect however, is to find you waiting for him one night dressed only in that very symbol of devotion.

ღ┆ When Aemond grows restless to flee his mundane duties of castle life he’ll ask you to join him in search of a short moment of respite. Together on Vhagar’s back you’ll fly over Westeros - getting a rare view of the country that only few have ever glimpsed with their own eyes.

══════════════════════

𝐗 = 𝐗-𝐫𝐚𝐲 (𝐥𝐞𝐭’𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬)

ღ┆ It’s big. He has the presence of a man who is packing heat. Someone as bold and cocky as he is needs to have the proof to back it up. Perhaps more importantly is the fact that he knows how to use what he has.

ღ┆ Wants to hear you say how big he is, how full he makes you feel when he’s inside you, how good he fucks you. Again, he wants all the possible praise you can give him and more.

══════════════════════

𝐘 = 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞?)

ღ┆ Aemond knows you have responsibilities as does he, but he can’t help his mind from wandering throughout the more dull parts of his day. Wishing he were back in his chambers alone with you to do as he pleased. Thoughts of how he’d fuck you filling his head. If duty keeps you away from each other he’s ready the moment he gets you alone. He’s never going to say no if you’re willing.

ღ┆ If you’re ever traveling or away from him for extended periods of time he expects you to pleasure yourself while thinking of him - a thought that he uses as fuel for himself in return. The thought of you quietly pleasuring yourself with his name on your lips has him straining in his pants.

ღ┆ “Promise me you’ll remember who brought you this pleasure. Whose hands held you while you shook and how good it felt to be fucked by me.”

══════════════════════

𝐙 = 𝐙𝐳𝐳 (𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬)

ღ┆ Depends on the events of the day honestly. After a long day seeing to his duties he’s more prone to falling asleep shortly after - his body truly spent from physical exertion with you. He’d do everything in his power to fight against sleep that threatened to take him. To have one moment more gazing into your eyes, feel your sweet, soft comforting caresses graze his cheek while your fingers run through his long hair.

ღ┆ On the rare occasion you find yourselves with more time to relax, you’d enjoy each other's company further. This is when Aemond is at his most vulnerable in front of you. These fleeting moments before sleep takes him and you’re free to inquire about his past or any troubles he might have. He’ll divulge anything you ask of him during this time - intimate questions regarding his past and childhood or your curiosities of dragons.

ღ┆ “Want to hear how a boy of only ten was able to claim the eldest remaining dragon do you?”

#stardustoftarth writes #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond imagine #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #aemond x y/n #hotd #hotd imagine #hotd smut #hotd headcanons #house of the dragon #house of the dragon smut #aemond hotd #aemond smut #smut alphabet

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lunarw0rks · 10 months

Text

Old Bones | Chapter Three

Summary: After fleeing a toxic relationship, you fear for your safety and hire a bodyguard. He's masked, impassible, and damn good at what he does.

Warning(s): strong language, suggestive language, guns/gun violence, death, gore/medical gore, blood, canon-typical violence

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: I think this is my fav chapter so far, lemme know what y'all think... sorry if it's medically inaccurate but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ also the bastard finally has a name !!

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Vaded

“Squeeze trigger slow, don’t forget to breathe.” His fingers are overtaking yours, contorting yours so they’re using the proper form.

Even if you wanted to make a mistake, his frame was caging you in, stomach pressed deeply into the curve of your back. You do just that, firing at the glass jars lined up several feet away. Not a solid hit, but closer than the others.

Simon steps back, lowering the cock of the weapon for you. “You’re hesitating. There’s no time to hesitate or you’re dead.”

“I know that.” You spit back. The fluster of continually missing, as well as being dragged out here nearly every day was getting to you. Not to mention the heat of the sun beating down on you, successfully blinding any shot you take.

“Then do it properly,” He stands near the jars in front of you now, crossing his arms over his chest in impatience. “You think I have time to ponder when I’m holding a gun to someone’s head? I don’t. I shoot first.”

Such a prick—an insufferable prick at that. His words only escalated the sour mood you’d had during this whole morning of make-shift boot camp.

You raise the pistol again, lining up the sights and tracing along his figure being outlined by the rays of sunshine. You exhale like you’d been coached, jerking the sights to the jar closest to him and squeezing the trigger.

The mason jar explodes, laying askew on the pallets he’d set them up on. He doesn’t jump in surprise, or lose his composure.

“Better. You might actually have a chance… If he’s a statue.” His lack of reaction only pissed you off more, practically wiping any form of a smirk you had after your first lucky bullet. You switch the safety back on, for his well-being as much as your own, and toss the iron to him.

He catches it without a second thought, returning it to the sack of weapons he’d brought to train with. A week, and you’d just barely made it to pistols. Not to mention, on your toes the entire time because there’s been nothing but radio silence on your spouse. Not a letter, not a piece of mail, no sign of a tail—nothing.

He begins the drive back from the countryside, somewhere about an hour out of town where none of the trigger pulls would be heard. His eyes are glued to the unpaved road in front of him, as usual. One hand on the top of the wheel, and the other taking up the entirety of his center console, leaving you little room to breathe.

“I’d say, you’re ready to carry one.” Simon’s words nab your attention. “Just don’t shoot at me again, or you’re shit out of luck.”

You don’t doubt the power of carrying, but it’s new nonetheless.

Perhaps his harsh feedback held weight, and you ‘might’ have a chance in hell of defending yourself. Might—as in, nearly none at all.

Thank the stars for that insufferable prick, then, because whether you want to admit it or not, his services are needed.

—

The weight of the piece is something you’ll have to get used to.

You refused the hip holster, to Simon’s annoyance, of course. Instead, it’s going to remain tucked into your waistband, the icy metal of the .38 revolver digging into the soft flesh of your tailbone.

He’s in the shower now, where he usually spends about two minutes anyways, despite you packing now. Bullets were your words now, if necessary. This situation was past legalities, or forms, or numbing and intrusive questions in the courtroom.

Three sharp pounds on the front door, and you’re already at your feet. The shower shuts off, and Simon has walked out with a towel concealing his waist and already started for the door.

“Wait.” You’re looking through the peephole only greeted with the sight of a badge and an impatient officer. Simon steps back a bit, watching the encounter from the hallway as droplets run down his frame.

Once you’ve opened the door, the officer holds out some sort of form. The prospect of an officer at your door has prevented you from hearing his introduction or caring to take a look at the badge. The only words that find you are ‘husband’ and ‘defamation’.

He doesn’t bother to let you respond, just shoves the form onto the entry table and gives Simon a sickened glare. At first glance, probably thinking Simon is your side piece showering off after a night of adultery.

The officer has retreated down the steps of the complex, leaving you unable to process anything. Simon doesn’t say a word, just retreats to his room to finish dressing, as if there wasn’t almost a dead cop laying in the foyer.

Your hands shiver as you skim through the document, seated at the kitchen table. You couldn’t believe the bastard—cops and judges already on his payroll, coming up with some bogus claim of defamation—all while you’re left with no evidence of the latter.

He’s returned quickly, resting his palms on the table as he soaks in the information. “You’re not going to that trial.” The paper is taken from your fingers, forcing you out of your discomposure.

“I’ll go to prison if I don’t show, Simon.” You respond quickly, wondering what the hell he’s getting you roped into.

“No, you’ll be dead.” He leads, the palms on the table turning to tight fits. “Once you’re in the courtroom, he’ll have access to you, or whatever shitty motel you’ll be staying in for months. You’re not going.” His commands are nearing that of a hardened soldier.

“This is my life you’re talking about. I can’t just pack up and run from the federal government. He’s not going to kill me, he’s going to try and put me in jail, then throw away the key.” Your tone has heightened, but his hasn’t.

He takes a few steps back from the table as if trying not to blow his top. “You’re hiding out in a shitty apartment, sobbing in the middle of supermarkets, and you’re confident in that assessment?”

“If he wanted you in jail, he would’ve planted evidence on you. I’ll repeat myself. You’re not going.” Simon sighs sharply, trying to calm himself again. “We need to get out of this apartment for now, before more police poke around and find you packing heat.”

The lack of decor, luggage still in the corner, non-perishables you’d bought—all for the inevitable moment he finds you. That moment was here, and now you were packing it all away. Somehow the place looked less pitiful with it all packed away and stuffed into his backseat.

—

You were somewhere in the countryside, only in the opposite direction of the shooting range you were at that morning. He hadn’t stopped once during the long ride and wasn’t planning to. You were in a small town before you knew it—someplace you’d never heard of, and probably with a population that doesn’t reach triple digits.

The barren landscape you were passing in the near forties seemed to continue forever. The endless crop and winding paths would provide cover, but the scenarios playing in your head depicted worse.

The entirety of the town was in a cluster—a few gas pumps, a motel, a pharmacy, and a diner—all of which much older than you’d been alive, visibly decaying under years of neglect.

His truck rolled to a stop, parking in the empty lot of the motel. You two seemed to be the only ones rooming in this apocalyptic townlet, and you were grateful for that, at least. He retreated into the office and returned holding a key to your room.

You climbed out, retrieving the duffel that had your entire life packed into it. His bag of weapons was slung over his shoulder, and he carried it as if the weight had no effect. He’d stayed quiet the whole trip, and it continued well into entering the shared space.

Two beds, a bathroom, and a kitchenette. Nicer than you expected, albeit the exterior painted a different picture earlier.

Your stiff limbs freed themselves when you sprawled out on the bed you claimed, remaining in disbelief of the situation at hand. You were on the run again, but this time not from him—from the law. How long could this go on? Living in motels, with an overbearing male roommate? Especially one without a sense of humor; the spiteful cherry on top.

He closed the curtains with a jerk, forcing you to stare at the dated floral pattern they had, instead of the secluded view outside. There was no time for error, especially when it was someone other than the law to figure out you’d skipped town.

Just when you’ve begun to close your eyes, he’s loudly rifling through the luggage sitting on the floor, muttering curses under his breath. You sit up in bed in a huff, glaring into his back. Finally, he pulls out the bottle of Kentucky, pouring himself a generous glass, before thumping it down onto the faux-granite counter.

“Seriously?” You sigh, sitting yourself up on your arms.

He takes a few seconds, savoring the burn running down his throat. “Gonna need it. Helps me focus.”

“We’ll need to pick up a few things at that pharmacy, so get up.” There’s no chance in hell he’s leaving you here alone, despite the store only being a few blocks away. Bickering only greeted you with an icy glare, so you grumbled to your feet, slipping into the jacket you’d removed only minutes before.

In usual fashion, he’s a few steps behind you, watching the few people that are out and about at the moment, most of which are retirement age.

You’re inside the pharmacy now, practically tapping your foot at him as he grabs the supplies you two might need. More non-perishables as well as a small kit used for camping. It was clear to you this little “road trip” wasn’t going to end soon—and he was quite used to being on the run.

As soon as he’s placed the bills on the checkout counter, you’ve exited the store, nearly skipping back to his truck. He begins the short drive back, but his eyes keep darting between the rearview mirror and over his shoulder.

“We have a tail.” He snarls, continuing to divert further from town. “I’m gonna make sure we lose it.”

His words make your hairs stand, whatever the hell he meant by that was nothing pretty. He was getting further from town, so whatever his plans were needed absolutely no witnesses.

“Gun?” You ask, looking over your shoulder at the black Mercedes creeping closer.

He nods, still frantically assessing his four corners. The road signs have disappeared again, and you’re back to crops and trucking warehouses. You lift yourself off the seat a bit, retrieving the revolver you previously had tucked away. You check the cylinder, indeed seeing six bullets loaded inside—bullets he’d filed X’s into the tips himself—they “blew a nastier hole” that way, according to him.

It’s in your lap now, as you bounce around from his speed increase. The tail does the same, nearly bumper to bumper with his trunk now. Simon diverts, trying to ensure it can’t clip it, but the unpaved road before you is already unsteady enough when you’re going straight.

The Mercedes clips into the side of his truck, but the size difference between the cars only causes it to swerve. Simon turns abruptly, making the tail believe he’s taking a right. In reality, he swerves left, causing the confused driver to go straight into the metal fence lining the road.

You only see the wreckage briefly; crushed hood, steam rising from the hood, and no further movement from the driver.

He slams the brakes, pulling off to the side. He pulls out his much larger caliber pistol, slamming the truck door behind him. He’s gone to make sure he finishes the job.

Your fingers find the lock button, about to hear that click, when the passenger door is whipped open, and you’re face down in the gravel before you know it. Your gun is askew somewhere, having been ripped from your hands.

The assailant's fingers dig into your scalp, forcing you to kneel on the sharp pebbles. He’s surely one of the men your husband hired. His nose is busted, and there are small shards of glass embedded in his face that he’s too determined to mind.

This was the moment fate caught up with you, just like you’d thought it would. Either with you dead in your apartment, or staring down the barrel of a gun like you are now—disarmed and on your knees execution-style.

He cocks it, pressing the metal into your temple.

The unmistakable crack of a gunshot echoes through the countryside, causing both of you to jump in surprise. Had Simon been ambushed? Was he already bleeding out in the dirt?

He seems to think the same, a lordly smirk spreading, revealing his bloodied teeth. You snap your eyes to the stars above you. His leer is not going to be the last thing you see—the night sky would be.

The ring in your ears is louder than the gunshot itself. Warm sprinkles have splattered across you now, dripping down your neck. But you’re not dead. Not clenching a bullet hole either. You have to look down to be sure, examining your body with sanguine hands.

Instead, it’s the man with a hole in his head crumbled in front of you, still your pistol in his dead fingers. The ringing subsides, but your eardrums are muffled slightly like you’ve just had your head underwater.

“Bastard got me,” Simon stumbles back, making you sigh in relief, “—came out of the fuckin’ backseat, didn’t see him.” He’s sputtering, putting a flat palm against the stab wounds on his stomach, while the other is against the door of the truck.

You use the truck for support as well, feeling the stray pebbles that were still digging into your knees, not to mention the crimson seeping into the fabric of your clothes, sticking to you. You snatch your pistol back, stuffing it back into your waistband.

He’s barely upright now. An uncanny sight at best, seeing him struggle to hold his own weight.

“We need to… Clean this up…” He takes his palm off the truck, but it’s returned when he nearly stumbles again. He’s fighting himself, forcing himself to be the one in charge here. Simon glowers down at his abdomen, lifting the saturated fabric. It’s worse than you expected, not in the deepness of the punctures, but how much blood he lost in the scuffle.

You can tell he wants to speak, to give you some sort of instruction, but the pants coming from him are too severe. He slides down the truck, leaning against the large tire for support. He’s gone even paler than usual—you can tell through the eyes of his mask.

His chest is rising and falling rapidly, at least. But it won’t be soon if you don’t do something.

It’s a blur; grunting and using all your might to put the dead man into the bed of the truck. You open the door to the backseat, finding the foil blanket in the camping kit Simon bought. You cover the bed, so his corpse looks like nothing more than a lump of firewood, or hay, or something other than what it is.

The skinny flashlight finds its way between your teeth, as you scoop and kick the dirt around to cover up the blood. The storm clouds forming are your only hope of washing away any evidence of this bloodbath. You shine the light on the side of the car, where some of the splatter had cast. You wipe it away with your sleeve, leaving only small traces of it.

Finally, it shined on him. A half-conscious Simon, who you can barely lift into the truck. He gives a little way, but your arms are putty by the end of the ordeal. He’s slumped in the seat, and you haven’t bothered to buckle him in.

You climb inside the driver’s seat, reversing quickly to make it back to the motel. The lack of guests will make patching him up easier, but the prospect of what unfolded is not providing much comfort. You’re speeding down the strip of unpaved road, eventually greeted by the few street lights illuminating the town.

You slow when you reach the parking space, claiming the one directly across from your room, so transporting Simon is easier. Luckily, the few residents that live there have retreated in for the night, leaving no prying eyes around.

You palm his pockets, locating the room key. There’s no time for slippery fingers or trembling hands. You make way for yourself and him by opening the door first, then pulling him out of the truck. He’s putting as much weight on himself as he can, but you’re left to do most of the literal heavy lifting.

Simon was otiosely dropped onto his bed, left to writhe only for a few seconds while you grabbed the rest of the camping kit from the backseat. When you return and lock the doors behind you, you’re quick to dig through the luggage for pieces of clothing. Ones you can put underneath his torso to prevent the mess his wounds are going to make.

You fish the knife he kept in his pocket out, cutting through the soaked t-shirt fabric. It glides off easily, allowing your amateur eyes to feast on the punctures. They aren’t deep, clearly not done with enough force to do serious internal damage, but there’s enough for the blood loss to be his biggest problem.

Simon must’ve finished him off before he could rough him up more—you could tell by how jagged the last stab was—like the man’s blade had been ripped away hastily.

“The bourbon…” He murmurs, bringing the bottle to your attention. Something you’ll be able to use. The self-medication that was slowly killing him might just be his saving grace.

You zip to the counter, unscrewing the cap from the bottle. He nods his head, bracing himself like he’s been through his a hundred times. He probably has, for all you know. The fawn-tinted liquid sizzles at his wounds, both disinfecting and irritating the reddened, puffy flesh.

He’s gritting his teeth under the mask, clenching one of the towels you laid out for dear life. Still, handling the pain better than you expected. You, on the other hand, were minutes from spewing.

The blood was coming out faster than you could keep up with, and no matter how many times you dug through that camping kit, it was only small bandages and ointment. You had no choice, you had to get to that pharmacy.

First, you’re hunched over the sink, scrubbing away the crimson coating you. You take off your jacket, ridding yourself of your bloodied clothes. One of his hoodies will have to do, and it will cover the remnants remaining in your hair. From how squeamish the sight was making you, you could swear you were paler than the man actively bleeding out.

Next, you’re out the door again, darting down the slick streets. Those storm clouds you saw earlier had begun to rain down on you. Good for the crime scene miles away, but not for your joints. That taste of blood, pinching in your side as you forced yourself to keep going, closing in on the pharmacy eventually.

Heaving in the first-aid aisle, grabbing any sterile gauze you see, then a box of gloves. Of course, the selection is limited. The townsfolk probably aren’t playing mob doctor like you are right now.

Once you’ve made uneducated guesses on what to get, it’s like you’re reminded of the dying man in your hotel room. There’s no time to pay, and no active cameras—no time to question the logistics of it all. Besides, the geriatric clerk barely gave you a passing glance when you stormed inside.

You’re out the back door, looping around the building until you’re back on the sidewalk again, racing with the supplies hooked under your arm. You’ve only been away minutes, but those were precious minutes where he could’ve hemorrhaged even more.

The rain putters heavily, coating your lashes like it did in the parking lot of the supermarket, daring you to stumble in disorientation.

You fiddle with the key, nearly kicking the door down when it struggles. It gives way eventually, and you’ve slammed it, already sitting on the edge of the bed. He kept a hand on his wounds while you were away, luckily, but he’s starting to slip again.

You peel Simon’s large fingers away, then look at the supplies before you. You rush to the sink and sterilize your fingers, darting your gaze from the sink back to him.

You look down at it—the engagement ring you haven’t been able to take off all this time.

“Fuck it.” You mutter, tearing it off your finger. It clatters somewhere in the sink, and you leave it there to get back to Simon. You tear the cardboard encasing the gloves, slipping them onto your trembling fingers—partially from the cold rain, as well as the know-nothing decisions you’re going to make to treat him.

Stitches are out of the question, so you’re going to have to pack the wounds—something you've seen on a medical show once. You unravel the roll of gauze, cutting off small sections of it with the knife, and then get to work.

He’s lucky he’s knocked out because he’d probably cringing right now—from your medical care, not your fingers digging around at his wounds.

You loop the bandage around your index finger, trying to recall the steps. You push it deep enough to prevent it from bleeding through, stuffing the gashes in a zig-zag pattern. One by one, you move to the next wound until they’re all packed.

If these stabs had been any deeper, there would be two bodies in the bed of the truck right now—one of which would be the owner. Opportunely, they hadn’t bled through the gauze so far.

The exhaustion caught up with you quickly, but you were determined to keep an eye on him. Without him, you were screwed, plain and simple. He wasn’t going to die and leave you with this unexplainable mess, one that he got you into when he took you on this hellacious joyride.

—

You must’ve dozed sometime in the night because the sunrise was peaking through the gaps of the curtains when your eyes opened. Not to mention, Simon was shoving you away from him, grunting as he was finally able to sit up.

He peered down at the evidence of the unpractised medical attention you’d given him. His fingers found the bottle of Kentucky still on the nightstand, and he took a slug from it, feeling the tension release a little bit.

The sight of the room surprised him a bit—the medical supplies and luggage thrown around, the clothing laid out below him, and not to mention the blood still dried on your fingers.

He finds his footing, despite the frazzled expression you’re maintaining. He’s been here before, in fact, been closer to death many times. This was nothing to Simon—“just a scratch” as he’d say. He grabs one of the only clean shirts left, slipping it on to cover himself.

After he’s taken another drink, he turns to you, standing above you with authority. This was no longer a game of cat and mouse, it was past that now. He had bigger problems, like the corpse in the bed of his truck, and the prospect of more of those men coming.

He finally finds the words when he sees you’re no longer wearing your ring. “What’s this bloke's name, the one who sent his dogs on us?”

You shake your head in confusion, but his clenched jaw is persistent and only going tighter. You’re forced to swallow the lump forming in your throat. You, too, can tell things are changing, and it’s become more personal for Simon than he’d like to admit.

You utter his name, as he’s forced you to reveal it. “Cal. His name is Cal.”

He takes a sharp inhale, taking in the information. The hands that were resting at his sides have now turned to fits. “After we take care of that problem in the back of my truck, we’re gonna find this bastard.” You could swear steam would be coming out of his ears by now.

He grabs his truck keys off the table and starts towards the door, growling something under his breath that you didn’t make out,

“I’m gonna find this bastard…”

TAGLIST: @random-thot-generator @littleobsessionsandlifeslessons @illyanam1011

#mw2 fanfic #mw2 #simon riley #simon riley x reader #call of duty #ghost mw2 #task force 141 #task force 141 x reader #simon riley smut #simon riley fluff #simon riley angst

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artists-ally · 6 months

Text

{Train Wreck} Azriel x Cassian!Sister {Pt.1}

I am in love with this song, Train Wreck by Divide the Day and cannot get it out of my head. I feel like Azriel loves a good broken girl because she can relate to all of him. So here is the first part of that! Enjoy my loves!! lmk what you think!! (i got too excited waiting for the poll to end)

Word Count: 7,947

Warnings: Modern AU, OFC, angst, mentions of crimes, mentions of trauma, language, alcohol.

Summary: It has been far too long since Ira has seen her brother. They meet again under neither of their own terms and struggle to find any room in their hearts for pleasantries. But at least there is a hot, dark-haired, hot, buffer to focus on instead.

Tagging: @bubybubsters @librafairy @needylilgal022

Part Two

~~~~~~~~

“He’s going to say no.” No response from the peanut gallery in the front seat. “Seriously, he’s not going to be okay with this. You might as well let me out of the car now.”

“Will you just be quiet?” Arthur snapped, eyes locking with mine from the rearview mirror. “Need I remind you that this is your fault. You’ve left us with no other option.”

“I told you, it wasn’t me. That was-” “Cal, I remember the story. And that’s all that it is. A story, a fabrication that Arthur and I are no longer going to be entangled in. You may be able to fool the police with that lie, but you can’t fool us, Ira,” Dana snapped, whirling around to shoot me some daggers. She couldn’t look intimidating if she tried; her face was like a bunny, and every time she frowned it just looked like she smelled something rotten.

I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms. There was no way he was going to take me. We hadn’t spoken in almost five years, I didn’t even know he was alive until three months ago when I heard about his engagement. How fucking rude of him not to tell me. I had to find out through a friend of a friend.

Fifteen years growing up together meant nothing to him, I guess.

The big riverside house came into view at the end of an equally impressive driveway. A shame for whoever had to go and collect the mail every morning.

“Stay here, in the car,” Arthur barked.

I opened the door and got out of the car, kicking a few stones. Man this place was flashy; a big fountain in the circular driveway, a line of cars over by a garage. Not to mention the very obvious multi-million dollar mansion that never seemed to end.

“Lord, give me the strength to not strangle this child,” Arthur sighed, marching to the front door. I snickered, he was always so uptight.

“Not a child, Arthur,” I countered. “Just turned 21. You’d know that if you ever bothered to check up.”

“Give it a rest, Ira. We’re trying to help you since you clearly don’t understand the basic human morals of being a functioning member of society,” Dana said, opening the trunk, catching a bag as it tumbled from the stack.

“Sorry that I don’t like to conform to the idealistic fantasy that is modern society.”

Was it my plan to break into that restaurant and pose as waiters to make a few extra dollars? Yes, it absolutely was. And it was genius plan that if someone didn’t fuck up, it would’ve worked flawlessly. It ended with me in handcuffs and my ass sitting on the curb until Dana came to pick me up.

Was it also my idea to drive four fucking hours away from my hometown to the middle of nowhere to be babysat? Abso-fucking-lutely not.

“Get your stuff,” Dana dropped a few things to the ground.

I came around the side of the car and heard the door open, and that lovely voice of his ring through my head.

Great. This is going to go fantastic.

“Arthur? W-What are you doing here?” Cassian said.

Cassian, six-foot-five and one hell of a bastard. He knew just how to get under your skin and make you want to punch him in the face. Which I had done on more than one occasion when he dug too deep.

“Cassian, good to see you,” the old man said, extending his hand. “We uhh… we have something for you.”

“I don’t understand.”

I could hear the crunch of gravel and I knew what was about to happen. Any second now I was about to be publicly humiliated. I wish it was still the 1500’s where they parade you down the street and then execute you so I could at least see all the resentment on everyone’s faces.

“Dana!” I could practically hear that obnoxious grin in his voice before I could see it. “I was not expecting you guys, come in this is so awesome to-”

“She’s not the surprise, Cass,” Arthur clapped him on the shoulder and walked to the back of the car. There was a sharp yank on my elbow and I damn near tripped over him. He must’ve grown again because he was a lot taller than the last time I saw him. “She is.” “Ira?” He squinted, as if he could ever mistake me for someone else. “Holy shit, I didn’t even know you were still around.” “You’d know that if you ever bothered to check up on me,” I couldn’t be bothered to be pleasant. Nothing about this would be fucking pleasent.

Cassian looked from Arthur to Dana, then back to me. And to the duffle bag that I was holding on to. I could see him connecting the dots inside his thick-ass skull. “No. No no no.”

“Cassian, she needs someone to look after her,” Dana expressed, chasing after him when he turned inside.

“You cannot just plop her on my doorstep like some stray dog,” Cass shouted, throwing his arms in the air and all around.

“She’s your sister, for fucks sake,” Arthur joined. “She needs you to look after her. Since you left Ira has done nothing but cause me a headache and gray hairs.”

“I’m right here, you know,” I walked over, throwing the bag down. “And I’d appreciate if you talked about me like a fucking human being, not some gag gift that is always shuffled around at christmas because no one wants it.”

“I have a family to take care of, I cannot take you in, Ira. I have too much going on.”

“Some things never change,” I huffed. “See, I told you he wouldn’t give me the time of day.”

“Now, let's just take this down a couple of notches, okay? It has been a long drive so why don’t we just go inside and-”

“Cass? What’s going on?”

Cassian scrunched his face, and my eyes went to the door, a pretty woman standing there with her arms folded. She had a scowl on her face and narrow eyes. Her long brown hair was braided over her shoulder.

“Nothing, these people were just-”

“Who’s here?” Another voice, a man, asked next. Now, if I had died and gone to heaven and you told me that was an angel, I’d believe you.

Cassian muttered something under his breath and rubbed his forehead. “Nesta, Rhys, this is Arthur and Dana. My foster parents from years ago. And this… this is my sister.”

“Your sister?” Both of them exclaimed at the same time. He didn’t even tell them about me? Some fucking brother he is. I didn’t want to be here, but now I really wanted to see where this was going to go. It could be entertaining.

“They were just-” “Come in come in,” the man stepped down and shook Arthur's hand. “I am Rhysand, call me Rhys. Welcome, we are so pleased to have you. Cassian never mentioned having visitors today.”

“It wasn’t planned,” Dana let out the fakest laugh I’ve ever heard. She was one of those people who, when nervous, laughed after every sentence. Like come on lady, grow a set and just say what you really mean it’s not that hard.

I smiled victoriously as Arthur and Dana were escorted inside. When I looked up at Cassian, he had rage in his eyes. “Good to see you too, Cassie.”

“Do not,” he pointed at me. “You are not staying here, whenever this little tour is over, you’re gone with them.”

“Gladly.”

I closed the trunk and followed behind a storming Cassian. His shoulders might as well have been pinned to his ears. It looked like a stick was shoved up his ass.

The house was absolutely massive. I thought shit like this only existed in fairytales, not… wherever the fuck we were. Certainly not my normal run-down streets I was used to. There were cabinets filled with fine dishes and things were on display. Everywhere. I don’t think I have seen so many things before in my life.

While Cassian pouted in the corner, the man named Rhys showed us all around. He pointed and spoke, but I received a text on my phone.

Cal: your a piece of shit I hope you know that

Me: You’re* but it’s fine.

Cal: i cannot believe you fucking left me

Me: Whoops. Sorry bud, I couldn’t stick around. You dicked me over so… guess that karma’s a bitch.

Cal: you know I’m bad with names

Me: WE USED EACH OTHERS!!!!!! HOW HARD CAN IT BE TO FORGET MY NAME!

Cal: hopefully pretty fucking easy because I don’t ever want to fucking see you ever again. fuck you ira

Me: Right back atcha, asshole.

Great, now the only person that I had remotely trusted was out of my life. I had no one back in my hometown. No one to remember or care for me. I don’t think I ever had someone in the first place. What happens when you don’t have anyone to teach you right from wrong? What do you get when you mix a traumatized teenager in a city with nothing to do? A hot mess. A hot fucking mess.

“Oh, and this is my wife Feyre. My darling, this is Arthur, Dana, and Ira, Cassian’s foster parents and his sister,” Rhys spared me a glance and I scrunched my face. Had Cassian really never bothered to tell them about me?

“Wow,” she had a small smile on her pretty face. Why was everyone here so pretty? “You look just like him. You both have the same eyes. And the same hair.”

“Great, what I’ve always wanted to be. Cassian's clone.” I couldn’t stop the eye roll.

“Ira,” Dana hissed. “Some manners?”

“Thank you, your Royal Highness.”

Dana smacked her forehead, mumbling something about gray hairs and a headache again. I chuckled. I thought it was funny. Especially the curtsy.

“Why don’t you all stay for dinner, I wouldn’t mind getting to know some of Cassian’s family,” Feyre said, that small smile still on her lips. We had all meandered outside to look at their yard, at the fountain in the front of the house.

To no one's surprise, there was a matching one in the back by the pool.

“Oh, we really have to get back on the road,” Arthur said, folding his hands together and swaying on his feet. “It was a pleasure getting to meet all of you, it makes me happy knowing that Cassian has found such a great group of successful, intelligent people.”

That last part was vehemently directed at me.

“Why are you looking at me? Cassian already said that I couldn’t stay.”

“Well I am sure that-”

“Why wouldn’t you stay?” Rhys asked, folding his arms against his chest.

I looked at Dana and Arthur, patiently waiting for someone to explain it. No takers? Guess it’s my time to shine. “Well, I think it’s because he doesn’t give a flying fuck about-”

“Okay okay,” Cassian interjected, and a devious grin spread across my lips. “Stay for dinner.”

What a two faced son of a bitch. It wasn’t me who decided to leave, it was him. And he’s pissed at me? Not fucking fair. We all went inside, but Cassian lingered at the back of the pack. While Rhys took Dana and Arthur around to the kitchen, Cassian yanked me– why was everyone throwing me around– into a room off to the side.

“What the fuck did you do this time?”

“Wow, Cassie-”

“Do not call me that.”

He used to hate it when I called him Cassie. Especially around his friends because they would make fun of him for days after. I loved that.

“No hi, how are you? No ‘it's good to see that my sister is alive and doing well?’” “Clearly not well enough since they dragged you all the way out here. How the hell did you even find me?” Cassian’s eyes were full of fire. Looks like he still had that canyon of a line between his bushy-ass-eyebrows when he was upset.

“I know a guy,” I shrugged. Antoine is an amazing man. “But that’s besides the point. Wait… were you purposefully trying to disappear so I wouldn’t be able to find you?”

“What. Did. You. Do?”

I swallowed, I hated when he scolded me. “It wasn’t even that bad. They just gave me community service.”

“Jesus Christ, Ira. What did they want to give you?” Cassian shouted for the whole house to hear.

“Doesn’t matter, I got myself out of it. Like I always do, without your fucking help. I am capable of taking care of myself without you.”

“Yeah you seem to be doing a swell job,” Cassian looked me up and down, clearly judging my tangled hair and ripped up jeans that I’ve probably had since middle school. “I thought all of this was behind you, Ira. When I left you were-”

“Abandoned. You didn’t leave, you abandoned me.”

Cassian relaxed his shoulders. “You know if I could’ve taken you with me I would’ve.”

“No you wouldn’t have.” I was waiting for him to argue, to deny that fact. But he didn’t, and his haunting silence was enough of an answer. I scoffed, a hard, bitter noise. “You know I don’t blame you, no one would want to take a juvenile delinquent anywhere, especially somewhere like this place.”

“Ira-” “Save you’re fucking breath, Cass. You don’t have to pretend around me, you’ve never had to. Just play along with it for one night and I’ll be gone by the morning. Then I won’t have to be your liability to shoulder ever again.”

I didn’t wait around to see his response. Somewhere deep inside I was actually excited to see him. To meet the person my scrawny, gangly brother had turned into. Now he was… a man. Like a real man. I never thought I’d see him with long hair, but here we are. He was tall and muscular and had long hair. Shoulder length, but the longest I’ve ever seen it. It suited him.

He looked healthy. He looked happy. For fucks sake he was engaged. Albeit to the most terrifying looking woman I’ve ever seen, but they looked like they somehow worked. I feel like Nesta and I would be great friends. Cause a lot of trouble together. Piss off Cass together

I found Dana and Arthur with glasses of wine around a large table, two other women that I hadn’t met yet.

“Ahh, this is her,” Rhys stood up, putting his hands on my shoulders. “This is Ira, Cassian’s sister.”

“After all this time,” a pretty blonde woman spoke, looking at me from head to toe. “Who knew Cassian could keep you a secret.”

“You look just like him,” a girl who looked similarly to Feyre said, eyes wide. “I’m Elain. And that’s Morrigan.”

“Mor is fine, dear,” Mor smiled, coming over to me and Rhys. “Would you like to see the rest of the house?”

“Absolutely,” I grinned, linking her elbow with mine when she offered. I knew Cassian had walked into the room because of his massive feet against the floor. He said something, but I didn’t care because I was giggling with Mor as we rounded a corner to a set of stairs.

“I know Elain said this already, but fuck you look like Cassian,” she laughed, opening a room and revealing a giant bed with a balcony on the other side of some french doors.

“It gets really fucking annoying,” I rolled my eyes. “You don’t have something I could change into, do you?”

“Oh, of course. Let's go find you something. You were saying about Cassian?”

“Right, it’s a constant reminder of that prick every time I look in the mirror.”

“Uh oh, trouble in paradise?”

“Trouble in a goddamn nightmare,” I groaned, sitting on the corner of her bed while she rummaged through a closet. “I mean, it has been five years since I’ve seen the guy, and he still looks like the same idiot who used to pay me to do his laundry.”

“He what?” Mor gasped.

“Yeah. He threw one red sock in with the whites and vowed to neer do it again. So I, the natural entrepreneur, snagged up the opportunity to take his allowance. Five bucks a wash was a good deal considering he needed to have a load done twice a week. And god did it smell.”

“Well, in the five years since I’ve known him, it hasn’t gotten any better. And suddenly it makes a lot more sense when I see Rhys doing more laundry than anyone else. Interesting.”

I shook my head. I guess things haven't really changed. I’ve been saying that way too much in the past half hour we’ve been here. Could this go any slower? Like seriously, why couldn’t Dana and Arthur leave, then I would pretend to be good for a few hours until the sun goes down. I’ll make my way to the nearest bus stop and hitch-hike it all the way back.

Mor came out and held up a gorgeous top; it was a powder blue color with a square neckline and long, puff sleeves. She tossed it my way and then ran back in there for something on the bottom.

“What’s your style? Skirt? Jeans? Leggings?” Mor called, and by the muffled noise, I could tell her closet was huge.

A dream.

“I’ll take a skirt if you have one,” I said, rubbing the fabric between my fingers. “Leather maybe? Or just black.”

“You’ve got good taste,” she smirked, coming out and handing me a black leather skirt. “Exactly what I would’ve gone with. The bathroom is right through there, I’m gonna head back down stairs and just come down whenever you’re ready. Oh, and if you want to do your hair, everything is in the drawer in the vanity. The big one on the right.”

I looked at her with soft eyes. I’ve always wanted to have a sister to do all that girly shit with. To gossip and do makeup at three in the morning, giggling and laughing until we can’t breathe.

But I can’t get too attached. She’s clearly just being nice, just being a good person. I know nothing about her, I can’t just trust her.

So I nodded, heading off and closing the door behind me. Fuck. This was a big ass bathroom. A huge freestanding tub and an equally impressive shower.

I shed my shirt and folded it up haphazardly, same with my jeans. The shirt she gave me made my boobs look fantastic. There wasn’t a ton there, but more than enough to fill out the shirt. The skirt was a bit of a different story. Clearly Mor had never been to a gym because there was no way my ass was fitting in that.

Thankfully I had learned a trick from a friend. That friend was the internet. And that trick was a skill I had developed from stealing whatever clothes I could get my hands on. I had to make it work somehow. But I found a hair tie and looped it through the hole where the button was in the middle, hooking it around the button and back through.

As good as it was going to get.

My hair wasn’t awful, just a little greasy and wind blown from being outside. There was some dry shampoo and a comb. It would do the trick.

Much like everyone has already pointed out, the hair that Cassian and I shared was a little unruly. It only curled through the ends and was wavy the rest of the way. And the baby hairs? Forget about it, I was better just cutting them off.

I looked in the mirror. Well… it was certainly an outfit. I definitely had an appropriate amount of clothes on my body for a family dinner. The shirt only came up to my underboob and the skirt barely covered where my ass met my thighs.

It did wonders for my self confidence. Guess it’ll have to do.

When I got back downstairs, there was a light chatter in the air. But it stopped the second I walked in the room. Especially when Dana saw what I was wearing.

No one spoke as I sat down and poured some water from the pitcher into my glass. I made sure to make my sip as obnoxious and dramatic as possible. Man I was starving.

Thankfully conversation between Rhys, Feyre, and Dana resumed and the silence wasn’t eating me alive. I took out my phone and scrolled through instagram, posting a picture of a lake I had taken on my up here. It was a semi nice drive, very peaceful, but very very far from the shit-hole I used to call home.

“How do all of you know each other?” Arthur asked.

“Well I met Cassian when we were in high school, as well as our other friend Azriel. We made a deal with each other that when we graduate, we would do everything in our power to become the most powerful business owners we could. As you can see, that little pact is working quite well.” “How long have you lived here?” Dana asked next, clearly eyeing up Rhys.

“For about three years now?” Mor answered, Rhys nodded. “We kind of all found each other on the same paths and stuck together. We sort of own and share everything around here.”

“That is lovely,” Dana smiled. “And what do you do?”

“I own a casino and a neighboring hotel,” Rhys smiled. All the alarm bells were going off in my head. A big cartoon ‘cha-ching’ right there with it. He ran a casino? And a hotel? Oh boy this could be good. “Cassian runs the whole thing, and Azriel kind of has his own thing.”

“Who’s Azriel?” Arthur unfolded the napkin and laid it across his lap.

“He is our other friend,” Cassian butted in, lips pressed in that line that I remembered. “He’ll be by later.”

“Great,” I rolled my eyes. “More people.”

“Will you please be polite for once in your life?” Dana whisper-yelled, clearly not being discrete enough since everyone looked at us.

I just shut my mouth, grinding my teeth. It’s not worth it, it's not worth it, I told myself. A few moments later, a large tray with some type of bird on it came out. It was too big to be a chicken, but too small to be a turkey? Duck maybe? I don’t know, it didn’t matter. It was food.

Everyone around me took their time while I ate like a heathen. Putting a little bit of everything on my plate and scarfing it down like someone was going to take it away from me.

It was so funny to see the look of pure hatred and disgust on Cassian’s stupid face.

I swear, pissing off a sibling, especially an older one, has got to be the most satisfying thing in the world. Except for maybe sex. That was a close second.

And whatever this food was was a close third.

“So, Ira. What do you like to do?”

Here we go.

“I kind of have many hobbies.” I could see Cassian’s eyes narrow from across the table.

“Like?” Rhys stuck a green bean in his mouth.

“Uhh, f-fashion. And I’m very good at handling money. Other people's money. As well as picking locks and hotwiring cars-”

“She’s joking,” Cassian gave the fakest laugh– besides Dana’s– that I’ve ever heard. “We used to play cops and robbers when we were little, she always wanted to be the robber.”

“Did I?’”

“Yes,” he practically growled. “You did.”

This was crazy. This was actually crazy to be doing this right now. If I had any particular feeling about the things I did, guilty and ashamed were not some of them. Who gave a fuck if I stole from Walmart or faked being a waitress to make a few extra bucks? If anything they should be thanking me for the extra set of hands. Which they didn’t have to pay for.

It wasn’t like I stole the Mona Lisa for fucks sake.

“I guess I did.”

“What was Cassian like growing up? I can only imagine some of the stories you have,” Nesta chimed in from next to Cassian.

“Oh my god one time, Cassian was making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich-”

“Do not-”

“And he thought that the peanut butter was in the fridge for some reason. Turns out he grabbed a bottle of dijon mustard and used that instead. He took one bite and threw up everywhere. It took Dana a week to get the smell out of the kitchen.”

Everyone grimaced, poking fun at Cassian for making a jelly-mustard sandwich. “I guess that explains the nausea every time I make one.”

“You still can’t stomach even the smell?” My eyes were a little wide. That had to have been from when we were still in elementary school.

“Nope,” Cassian’s tone was harsh, fork forceful as it went into his mouth.

“Ira told me that you used to pay her to do your laundry because you fucked it up one time,” Mor snickered from her corner, Elain covering her lips with her hand to keep the water inside her mouth.

“Seriously?” Cassian glared at me.

“Hey, she asked. Those are trade sibling secrets, I wouldn’t dare give those away without something in return,” I gestured to my new outfit. Just and FYI, I would’ve told Mor regardless.

“Yes you would.”

Yes, I absolutely would. “Lighten up,” here it comes, “Cassie.”

Cheers and laughs raised in the air, Rhys punching Cassian in the shoulder and saying the nickname over and over again. He gave me the nastiest look, but I just tipped my glass towards him.

“What is everyone laughing about?” A new voice said from over my shoulder. When I turned to look… holy mother of Jesus fucking-

“Azriel,” Rhys, still in a fit of laughter. “Listen to this. Our beloved Cassie used to pay his sister to do his laundry. And I found out the reason he runs away whenever any of us set peanut butter on the counter.”

“Sister?”

Okay, I was surely in heaven. Or hell, and he was some sort of demon prince because… someone help me. If I thought Rhys was attractive then… fuck he’s hot. Unnaturally hot. Otherworldly hot.

“Azriel, this is my sister. Ira,” Cassian gestured to me without looking. “This is Azriel.”

He was so hot. That was the only thing going through my mind. He was exactly my type. And he was fucking ripped. I could tell. I didn’t need to see under the shirt he was barely wearing. It was so tight in all the right places. Fuck he was pretty to look at.

“Nice to meet you,” I tumbled out.

Azriel gave a not-so-subtle look at me, but didn’t say anything as he moved to sit with us. Unfortunately he sat on the other side of Mor, who was to my left so I wouldn’t be able to look at him. That’s all I wanted to do was just drink him in and think about those massive fucking hands on my-

A sharp kick to my shin had me wincing. When I looked up, Cassian met my heated gaze.

Don’t even think about it, he mouthed, sliding a thumb across his throat.

One raise of my eyebrow told him I was up for the challenge. I could see his jaw clench, and that only made me more enticed. Azriel was hot, and so was I. I’d make it happen one way or another.

I couldn’t have told you what happened next, I was far too busy thinking about Azriel. Man he was… he was so fucking good looking. He had these lighter colored eyes, hazel I think. And a dark mess of hair. I’m sure he looked like a Greek god under those clothes of his, too.

“And you’re engaged? That’s wonderful, Cassian. I am so happy for you,” Dana gushed while looking at Nesta’s ring. “Congratulations, you two. Do you have a date picked out?”

“No,” Nesta said sternly. “We are just going to wait things out. Until both of us feel ready.”

Cassian nodded, not offering up any words.

“What would you guys like for dessert?” Rhys asked, listing off a few options. I stopped paying attention after chocolate cake because who would want to hear anything else?

“I’m afraid we better get on the road, it is a long drive back to our home. Thank you for dinner, it was delicious,” Arthur stood up from the table, shaking Rhys’s hand. “Cassian, a word, please?”

With a deep breath, Cassian stood up and followed the old man out of the room.

“Okay, now that he’s gone, can we all agree that there is something wrong with him? I’ve never seen him so… so rigid in my life,” Mor blew out air from her lips, shaking her head.

“I think I better uhh… better explain a little bit.” My heart sped up a bit. “Dana and Arthur are kind of fed up with me so they’re just gonna take off. And leave me here. But don’t worry, I’m just gonna find a bus stop in the morning and be gone before any of you wake up. No biggie.”

The room was silent except for my fork scratching on the plate. When I looked up, everyone was looking at me funny.

“Ira, what? They’re gonna leave you here?” “It is a long story. And they think I need a role model to get my life together. Why Cassian is that role model I’ll never understand because the last I knew of him he was just as irresponsible as I was.”

Rhys took a sip of wine, “How long has it been since you’ve seen each other?”

“Five-six years now I think? I don’t know, I stopped counting after eight months,” I shrugged. Truth is I haven’t stopped counting the days since he left. I took a big piece of this chocolate cake into my mouth. “Fuck, this is good.”

“What happened?”

“We are lightyears away from you being able to ask that,” I laughed. “No offense but, it’s none of your fucking business.”

Again, the room was silent, except for a small snort at the end of the table. It wasn’t Elain because she was so red she looked like she was gonna pass out. And the only other one was Azriel.

“Hint taken,” Rhys pressed his lips in a flat line. “Well, you are Cassian’s family, so you are always welcome in our home.”

“Trust me, I don’t want to be here any more than you want me to be. I’ll figure it out, I always have. It’ll be like I was never here,” I took another forkful and shoved it in. Damn, I was gonna miss this cake. “So, Rhys, you own a casino and a hotel. What do the rest of you do?”

“Well, Cassian runs the casino and hotel,” Rhys pointed out again. “Azriel owns and runs the adjacent club attached. We basically have our own empire here.”

“Sounds fun,” I smirked. He owned a club? Could he get any hotter? “What about you Mor.”

“I am the best fucking bartender this place has seen,” her grin matched my own. “And I model here and there.” “Badass.” “I have an art studio. I teach classes and do some workshops,” Feyre said. “But most of the time I am at home with our son Nyx. He is… he’s a handful. A spoiled handful.”

“Hey,” Mor said, “to be fair, he is the first kid in our group, what did you expect?”

“He’s barely two, he doesn’t need designer clothes that he won’t fit into after a few months anyway. It's a waste of money.”

“Feyre, darling, I don’t know if you’ve looked around, but we kind of have a lot of money. It could use some wasting,” Rhys patted her thigh under the table.

I can only hope to have enough financial security to be able to say sentences like that. They could probably retire right now, all of them, and never make a dent in their fortune. Lucky bastards.

“What is it that you do, Ira?” Azriel poked his head from around Mor.

“Oh,” fuck fuck fuck fuck. What the hell was I supposed to say? Certainly the fact that I commit petty crimes won’t go over well. “I’ve had a lot of jobs. I don’t have a set career yet.”

“So hot-wiring cars is just a hobby then?”

A stream of water shot out of Mor’s mouth and onto the table. How did he even hear that?

“It’s a skill. Don’t come crying to me when your battery dies and you don’t wanna pay a hundred and fifty dollars for Triple A to come and pick up your ass,” I deflected. Another skill I had built up over the years.

“And the locks?” Wow, he was kind of an asshole with supersonic hearing. I could see why he and Cassian hung around together.

“I was a locksmith,” I mustered up my best smile and scooted my chair so I was sitting at an angle.

“Ah, so it wasn’t just the ‘cops and robbers’ you and Cassie used to play growing up. Good to know,” Azriel wiped the corners of his mouth with his napkin. He stood up, saying something about having to leave because he had to open up. Just as he was walking by, I stuck my toe into the walkway and he tripped over me.

Azriel all but went through the wall, Cassian coming around at the last second and catching his arm.

“You alright?” He asked as Azriel straightened himself out.

“Yup. Fine.” The glare he gave me sent a shiver down my spine and a smirk curled at my lips. Two can play that game, mother fucker.

I, very gracefully, scratched the corner of my nose with my middle finger. He got the message. But so did Cassian.

“Your stuff is in the driveway. Go get it and meet me upstairs.” Cassian looked so pissed off. His shoulders were pinned to his ears again as he stalked away, that silence settling back in the room.

“Guess that’s my cue to get a move on. Thank you everyone, a pleasure to meet you all,” I said with a genuine tone. They were all cool, and some part of me wishes I could have what they all have. Trust in one another.

The three duffle bags and backpack were not light as I carried them up the stairs, trying not to knock over all the decorations and pictures on the wall. One of them didn’t survive. It crashed all the way down and shattered on the hardwood floor. Cassian cursed from somewhere.

With a thud, I let go of all the bags in some random room at the end of the hall. It was barely big enough to call a hobbit hole. There wasn’t a window or a real bed, just some cot with a pillow and a blanket. “Glamourous.”

“It’s the best that I could do,” Cassian all but rolled his eyes.

“A couch would’ve been better,” I plopped down on the taught fabric, bouncing a little. “Sorry about the frame.” “It’s fine,” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, Ira I’m sorry about how I left you.” “Yeah well apologies don’t mean a fucking thing to me unless you fix it, Cassian,” I folded my arms over my chest. “And for the record, I would’ve understood if you would’ve just fucking told me what was going on. Instead, not only did you not tell me, you ghosted me.” “I know.” I just blinked up at him, waiting for an explanation. “Well?”

Nothing. Not even a strangled breath. “I just had to.”

“That’s the best you can do? Are you seriously still that fucking thick in the head?” “I didn’t have a choice, Ira,” he shouted.

“Yes,” I nodded. “You absolutely had a choice. You could’ve at least left me a fucking note with a number on it so I could talk to you. You were all I had, Cass. All I fucking had and you just disappeared. What did you expect me to do?"

Cassian shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I-I don’t know. I thought you’d get yourself together and make it out too. Build your own empire, like the one we have here.”

“In case you forgot, I didn’t get to finish school like you did.”

“Well that’s not my fault.”

The fucking nerve. I stood up, barely coming to his chest, and smacked him across the face. His head jerked to the side, and his mouth fell open. I shoved him into the wall on the other side of the hallway and he fell into it.

“You are a piece of fucking shit Cassian.”

“Ira-” “Did you really think that I would end up alright without you there? Could you really be that fucking stupid?”

“I didn’t think that-”

“Of course you didn’t. You never have. You’ve only ever thought about yourself and what would benefit you. You never gave a shit about me, I was just a burden you couldn’t get rid of.” “That’s not true,” he gritted his teeth.

“Tell me that I am not a constant reminder of dad. Or mom. Tell me.” I waited for a response. When nothing came, I felt the nausea roll through my body. “You are one sorry son of a bitch Cassian.”

“Jesus Ira you think I wanted to abandon you?” “You haven’t given me one other reason to believe anything different,” I was screaming now. I didn’t care if anyone else heard. “The last memory I have of you is seeing you packing a fucking bag and climbing out your window, what else am I supposed to believe about you?”

A door clicked open, and Azriel emerged. He looked at us with raised eyebrows. He had changed into all black. Fuck him and his good looks and his perpetually messy hair that I wanted to tug on.

“Everything alright?”

No, you fucking prick.

“Just re-kindling our sibling rivalry,” I gave a mocking look, staring down Azriel. “Mind your own damn business. This doesn’t concern you.”

“Ira,” Cassian said, somewhat appalled.

“Just fuck off, Cassian,” I waved my hand at him. “Like I said, I’ll be gone in the morning and you don’t ever have to worry about making it up to me again because you won’t be able to. Hope you are happy living in your perfect little bubble with your perfectly little circle. Hope they’re all more important to you than I ever was.”

I slammed the door shut quicker than he could get a response out, leaning against it. I hadn’t ever realized that I was shaking.

Whatever. Fuck him too. I don’t need Cassian. I haven’t needed him for the past six years. God, had it really been that long?

There was no use in unpacking so I just piled the bags in the corner of the room. And there was also nothing to do besides lay down simply because there wasn’t enough room to do anything else.

Maybe when everyone has gone to sleep, or home, I’ll go sneak around. Take something just to piss him off. Nothing too valuable, but something really inconvenient like all the salt and pepper shakers or all the spoons. Or one of the Corvettes in the driveway.

I could easily pick out which one was his; the yellow one with the black stripes on the hood. He always loved to be bold. How he fit in there I’ll never know.

My mind was racing with thoughts, but eventually I had fallen asleep because the sun was peeking through the crack under my door. I stirred and sat up, tucking my boob back into the shirt since it slipped out. Not my proudest moment for sure.

I changed into a hoodie and some other jeans, folding the shirt and skirt up to give back to Mor. It didn’t feel right to take them. She didn’t do anything wrong.

With far more precision, I made it downstairs to the front door. It unlocked easily, thankfully no alarm system went off. The chill of the early morning greeted me and I slipped out silently.

Fuck, this driveway was long. Couldn’t they be normal and have a normal fucking sized driveway? It was so unnecessary.

And of course there was nothing at the end of it. Just the road and nothing else. Not another house or anything. Who knows how far it could be until a bus station. Hopefully this place wasn’t filled with a bunch of weirdos and I wouldn’t get kidnapped.

The thought of carrying all these bags for miles would tear up my back and shoulders. I didn’t have that much but… I needed all of it.

“Ira!”

I whirled around and saw a Cassian shaped silhouette coming down the driveway. Oh great.

“Come to demand I pay for the broken frame?” “Stay.”

What? “What?”

Cassian breathed heavily, “Stay. I-I am so sorry for what I said. And you’re right, I don’t ever think of anyone other than myself. And I’m sorry I never told you where I was going. I want to fix it, but I can’t if you don’t at least let me try.”

I dropped the bags, totally not believing what I was hearing. “And what if I don’t give a flying fuck if you want to or not?”

Cassian completely deflated. “Please, Ira. I made a promise to Dana and Robert that I would look after you. I miss you. There hasn’t been a day that’s gone by where I don’t feel like a piece of shit for what I did."

So what if he made a promise to Dana and Arthur? He made a promise to me first. To always stick together. To always be there. He hung me out to dry before I even had a chance to notice.

I fucking hated Cassian. More than anything right now I wanted to watch him be boiled alive. Could he really even help me anyway? What was the fucking point of any of this? I was already humiliated, and dragging innocent people into my bullshit surely didn’t help.

Throw Cassian back into the mix and my kleptomaniac behaviors will definitely skyrockets.

“Why should I?”

“Because what other option do you realistically have?”

“That is not fair,” I flare my nostrils. “You have no right to waltz back into my life and pretend you give a shit about me.”

“You were the one who was dropped on my doorstep,” Cassian pointed out, making my stomach drop.

“You know, you’re doing a shit job at showing that you legitimately want me to stay, asshole.” I was getting a little angry. Good things did not happen when I felt betrayed. “And for the record, I tried to talk them out of bringing me here, but they went around me and got a fucking court order. So, whether you want to believe it or not, it was not my choice to be here. I can’t even go back with Dana and Arthur because there will be a warrant out for my arrest.”

“Shit…” Cassian dragged a hand over his face. “Ira I’m-”

“Sorry. I know. But you lost the privilege of my forgiveness long ago. It is gonna take a hell of a lot more than ‘I’m sorry’ to fix what you’ve done to me.”

“I know, I know,” Cassian softened his eyes and his voice, standing tall in front of me. “Just… give me something. Anything, and I will never betray you ever again.”

Should I believe him? I have no fucking idea what to do. All my alarm bells are telling me to run and don’t look back, but that gaping pit in my stomach is melting into him and those stupid fucking puppy dog eyes of his. So unfair.

This was gonna be a rough fucking time. Nothing about this was going to be easy, but… he was right. I didn’t have another option. And maybe there was something salvageable between Cassian and I. It would take a hell of a lot of convincing to be able to trust him ever again, but he was still Cassie. That same smug son of a bitch who gave the best hugs in the world.

If he wanted me to stay, there were going to have to be some sacrifices on his end. Mostly just to piss him off and make him sulk.

“I want a real fucking room.”

“Any one in the house.”

“I want yours.”

“Absolutely not,” Cassian furrowed his brow. “Plus, I don’t even live here anymore. Just Rhys, Feyre and Nyx. Nesta, Azriel and I live in the next town.”

“So what, you all just visit together and pretend to be a big happy family?” I scoffed, kicking a stone.

“We don’t pretend, Ira,” he didn’t say it rudely, but more matter of fact-ly. And he looked at me like I had never known what a family was. I guess he forgot that when he left it kind of ruined me. Or again maybe he just didn’t care what it would do to me back then.

Cassian looked sad. Not depressed or upset, just sad.

“Your room or I’m gonna walk away right now.” There was no room for negotiating in my voice. I could see the conflict in his eyes, but with a sigh he gave in.

“Fine, you can have my room here,” Cassian rolled his eyes dramatically.

“Was that so hard?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “Actually it was. I spent weeks designing that room. All for it to go to fucking waste.” “Sucks to suck I guess,” I smirked, shouldering two of my bags. “I’m gonna work hard, you know. I’m tired of always being in the fucking mud.”

“Yes, you are going to work hard. You’re going to have to follow some rules and check in. And you’re gonna have a curfew.”

“A curfew? What am I, thirteen?”

“Until you can prove to me that you’re not gonna go and rob a bank, yes, you’ll have a curfew,” Cassian picked up my other bags and started walking back to the house. “We’re gonna find you a job because I will not be funding your operation.”

“What happened to ‘we have a lot of money. It could use some wasting’?”

“Rhys wasn’t wrong,” Cassian said. “But just because we have it doesn’t mean you get access to it.”

“Jeez, sorry I brought it up, grumpy pants,” my turn to roll my eyes. “And what kind of rules anyway?”

“We’ll talk about it later. Some of us like to get a full eight hours of sleep every day so I am going back to bed. You’re not allowed to leave the house until I say so, so find something to do.”

“Or someone,” I whispered to myself. But Cassian heard. “A joke.”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you eye fucking Azriel,” Cassian practically gagged. “That is one of your rules. You are not allowed to be engaged with him in any type of way. The last thing he needs right now is you.”

“Right to the heart.”

“I mean it, he’s been through a lot the past year and a half. It took him a long time to get to where he is and I won’t let you ruin it for him,” Cassian said possessively. “He, along with everyone else, is my family. Fuck with them and you’re dealing with me.” “News flash, buddy, so am I. We share the same DNA, and hair and eyes according to everyone else on the fucking planet,” I genuinely could not see it.

“Ira, I’m serious. If you fuck around with Azriel and I find out I sweat to-”

“Jesus, calm down Vengeance. Gotham is safe from the Joker,” I followed him inside, clicking the door shut behind me. “I won’t get involved with Azriel.”

“Good.”

Life is too short to not fuck who you want, who gives a shit about what other people think. Sorry Cassian, but I am gonna fucking break that promise if it’s the last thing I do. And so help me god when I do get my hands on him because I’ll never let go.

#acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #azriel #acotar fandom #acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel x ofc #azriel x oc #a court of thorns and roses #acosf #cassian acotar #acomaf #acowar #acotar fic

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musyroom599 · 4 months

Note

can you make an erasermic x reader or just an erasermic one-shot?

I'll try my best 😄

Hope you enjoy as always have a good day!

Warning: mentions of abuse

Erasermic x reader

You walk into U.A high to start your first day as a teacher. You take a deep breath as you walk into the teachers lounge and look around to see a couple pro heros you recognize from the news.

"this is awesome" you think to yourself as you head towards the coffee maker.

You see a grumpy older man with black long hair and a tired expression drinking coffee. as a spunky man with blonde hair tries to negotiate something that you don't quite understand.

you grab some coffee and go to grab creamer as you see the black haired man is blocking it. But you being you are to shy to ask him to move.

The spunky blonde man looks at you and smiles looking back at the black haired man. "Sho your blocking the creamer" he says and winks at you causing you to blush slightly

"your so annoying" the black hair man says as he moves

"Th..thx" you say quietly.

"no problem!" He says warping a arm around aizawa.

You look at them and smile "support" you say happily.

"huh?" The blonde hair says clearly confused.

"oh sorry you guys just reminded me of a old married couple" you say awkwardly.

The blonde hair man thinks for a minute "she thinks where married...and old apparently" the black haired man says.

The blonde haired man laughs "oh that's what you meant. Well where not married but we are dating"

"oh my bad sorry" you say nervously

"Nah don't worry about it" the blonde smile's

"Your the new teacher here correct?" The black haired man asks

"yeah the names y/n".

"well I'm Hizashi and the is shota" the blonde man smiles

"....wait..... I recognize you guys you guys are Eraserhead and present mic right?" You say happily

"Yes that's us" shota says slightly annoyed

"I'm honored to meet you two. But I should get going"

"See ya later cutie!" Hizashi says and winks at you again.

You blush furiously and leave the room accidentally leaving your coffee behind.

"You need to stop flirting with strangers Hizashi" shota says sighing

"what you jealous?" Hizashi asks smugly

"in your dreams" shota walks out of the room

Later that day your lounging around the couch in the teachers lounge grading history papers. "Being a teacher is so freaking hard" you sigh to yourself.

"Tell me about it"

You look up to see shota leaning on the back of the couch with a coffee cup in hand staring down at you.

"Oh, hi shota"

you sit up so you can see him better.

"you know this room isn't your living room right?" Shota looks at you slightly annoyed.

"yeah I know.. but this place is so much more relaxing then my place so I thought I could grade papers here"

"How is school more relaxing then your own home" shota gives you a perplexed look.

"um..."

" there you are sho!!" You hear someone yell from behind shota.

"I wasn't aware you where looking for me" shota sighs as Hizashi leans over the back of the couch to look at you his hair dangling into your face.

"let them breath Hizashi" shota gives Hizashi a stern look.

"they don't seem to mind" he smiles and he nods towards you who is playing with his hair.

You pause as you notice what you're doing. "I am so sorry" you quickly apologize.

"nah I don't mind. It feels good actually" Hizashi smiles as shota rolls his eyes.

You blush slightly and smile "I...I can counting if you want"

"it's up to you" he ruffles you hair then looks at shota to discuss teacher stuff as you play with his hair.

The next day you arrive at the school pretty early.

"i hope I'm not to early" you say to yourself as you walk into the teachers lounge.

As you pass by a mirror you see a bruise on your face.

"shoot it actually bruised." You sigh. "That bastard. I hope no one notices"

"You hope no one notices what?" You hear shota say as you jump to face him .

"Sh..shota I didn't see you there"

"clearly" he responds and looks at your cheek which has a bruise on it.

"what happened?" He says there's a certain sternness to his voice which scares you.

"Um... nothing happened I'm fine" you say nervously covering your bruise.

"that bruise says otherwise" he moves your hand so he can see the bruise.

"it's from my dad." You sigh

"your dad?" He asks as he looks at you anger boiling up inside of him.

"mhm...he got a little drunk last night." You look away.

"that's no excuse to hit his child" He almost shouts

"hey guys what are you talking about" Hizashi walks in and pauses after seeing the bruise on your face.

"Omg y/n what happened!?" He runs to you and inspects the bruise on your face.

"My dad go a little drunk but I'm fine really" you force a smile.

"I want to meet your dad" aizawa says sternly.

"it's fine shota really"

"it's not at all fine" Hizashi says hugging you.

You pause as he hugs you but after a minute hug him back. Burying you face into his chest.

"Thx" you whisper

After work you waln towards your house with the two pro heros following close behind you protectively.

"You guys really sure you wanna do this?"

"Of course we are" Hizashi gives you a reassuring smile and ruffles your hair. You look at shota who just nods.

"okay if you're sure" you shrug

As you approach your house you pull out a spare key and unlock the door.

"dad I'm home!" You call out

"the hell took you so long"you hear your dad grumble from the living room.

"I ..i brought some guests...they want to talk to you" you fidget nervously as you walk towards the living room.

Your father looks at shota and Hizashi. "Aren't these those two pro heros you can girl over so freaking much?" Your father asked madly.

"uh...yes" you whisper looking down scared but also trying to hide your blush.

Hizashi puts his hand on your shoulder.

"I'd like to talk to you about the way you've been treating y/n" aizawa says clearly holding back anger

"what the hell did you tell them!?!!" Your father yells at you and you step back.

"I suggest you shut up" shota says glaring at your dad.

Hizashi looks at you. "Let's wait outside while sho handles to is okay?" He says and you nod following him outside the house.

You both sit in silence. Hizashi speaks up and breaks the silence. "So your a fan girl?" He says smugly while smiling.

"uh..i...maybe?" You say blushing furiously.

Hizashi laughs "I can see why I am pretty impressive"

"And cocky" you say smile.

"that what sho's always telling me.

You smile you see police cars pull up to the house.

"uh...Hizashi why are the police here?"

Shota walks out of your house with your father in his capture scarf.

"I'll kill you!!" Your father yells at you as he struggles to break out of shota's capture weapon.

"Shut it" aizawa snaps at him and your father stays quiet as the police arrest him.

You all sit in silence. "Now what?" You aks looking at the both of them.

Hizashi's face lights up "you should come live with me and sho!"

You look at shota who smiles "sounds good to me" he responds and ruffles your hair.

A couple hours later you able it to there house and look around.

"welcome home cutie!" Hizashi smiles as you blushing.

"enough with the flirting" shota sighs

Omg this took so freaking long to make but I enjoyed it so much kinda made it up as a I went along so yeah bye~

#aizawa x reader #hizashi x reader #erasermic x reader #mha #mentions of abuse

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bumblesimagines · 1 year

Note

❝ don’t try to hide your feelings from me. i know you. ❞

❝ i’d do anything to make you happy. ❞

- Robb Stark

❝ i’d do anything to make you happy. ❞

❝ don’t try to hide your feelings from me. i know you. ❞

Pronouns for y/n: he/him/his

Lift, aim, release. Steps so embedded in your brain, you were certain you could do them blindfolded and still hit the center of the target.

Lift, aim, release. Steps your father had taught you after you had mastered the sword. As a man tasked with training many of the men in Winterfell, he expected his son to be the best of them all. And in your humble opinion, you most certainly were.

Lift, aim, release. You could still remember his hearty laugh when you nearly shot an arrow through Ned Stark's leg during the early stages of the lessons. Ned- as kindhearted as always- merely laughed it off.

Lift, aim, rele-

"We'll run out of arrows at this rate." A familiar, warm voice called, snapping you from your dazed state and planting you back firmly into the ground.

"I need the practice." You breathed, lowering your arms and gazing at the target. Arrow after arrow shot in or near the center. Many split in half by newer arrows. An amused grin appeared on Robb's face and his lips parted to speak before you continued. "I have to be certain I won't miss when I shoot that Greyjoy bastard."

Robb's face crumbled in a matter of seconds and he reached a hand out to gently touch your shoulder. "We grieve this loss with you, (Y/N). Your father was a good man."

"Seems like good men have been dropping like flies recently." You muttered, seeing Robb grimace out of the corner of your eye. Lifting the bow and arrow again, you aimed.

"If there's anything you need, (Y/N)... Anything at all, tell me. I'd do anything to make you happy."

You blinked at his words and released the arrow accidentally, watching it fly past the target and into a tree. Silence hung in the air for a moment before you turned back to the stack of arrows. "You're a king, Robb. You have more important matters than my happiness."

"You are important to me." Robb's hand shot out, fingers wrapping around your wrist before you could pick up another arrow.

"This war is important. Taking back Winterfell before Theon hurts someone else is important. Ensuring the safety of Sansa and Arya is important. We lose loved ones all the time, Robb. I'll be fine."

"You've been shooting arrows at a target for the part hour, (Y/N). You are far from fine." The king scoffed softly.

"If you let me go-"

"Under no circumstances will you be going to Winterfell. We discussed this." Robb stated firmly, releasing his hold on your wrist as his jaw clenched.

"You decided for me, Robb! There wasn't a discussion. My father was murdered and you refuse to let me bring Theon to justice. I'll be careful-"

"I can't risk losing you!" Robb snapped abruptly but his anger appeared shortlived by the quiet apology that followed. His shoulders slumped and he lifted a hand to his face, rubbing his forehead. "I don't doubt your abilities, (Y/N). I just can't lose someone anyone else. And certainly not you... I-I.. I wouldn't know what to do with myself."

You stared at him silently, an aching feeling settling in your chest at the conflict on his face. War had a tendency to bring out the hidden feelings, the ones that had been buried because of duty. What had once been a brotherly friendship between childhood friends had shifted into something odd and confusing. Curiosity often got the best of young teens and the feeling of kissing someone you considered a best friend floated around in your memory.

But it had been just that. Curiosity. Or so you told yourself.

"We're not boys anymore. I can't remain by your side forever, Robb. By the time we win the war, you'll be wed to a Frey girl and I'll eventually find my own bride. We'll have to go our own ways. Friendships dwindle with time... it happens all the time." You spoke softly, finally setting the bow aside.

Dropping his hand, Robb pursed his lips and turned his head away from you. "Friendships, aye? Last time I checked, I've never made out with my other friends. Never done things with them-"

"Robb, you can't continue ignoring the truth-"

"And you can't continue ignoring what happened between us and what keeps happening! Don’t try to hide your feelings from me. I know you. I saw your face when we were told Walder Frey's terms."

"Yes, that you are to wed one of the Frey girls in return for his army. You are engaged, Robb. And I doubt Lady Stark would allow you to take back your promise without question." You reached forward to softly touch the side of his face, turning his head and letting your thumb rub against his cheek. "You mustn't let feelings get in the way of what's necessary. Even if it hurts."

#x reader #x you #x y/n #x male reader #game of thrones #game of thrones x you #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones x y/n #game of thrones x male reader #robb stark #robb stark x reader #robb stark x you #robb stark x y/n #robb stark x male reader #got x male reader #got x reader

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loloslaystheday · 4 months

Text

Something About You

pairing: sanemi shinazugawa x fem!reader

prompt: sanemi met the woman that he grew up loving and god be damned if he doesn’t marry her.

note: i tried to write a book on wattpad about this song but it does better as a one shot i feel like. i pasted it here and edited it… heavily🙂

you glanced around the bustling street, searching for the next stalls to buy the last ingredients for dinner.

‘i’ve got the oil, the flour, now i just need-‘

your thoughts were cut off as you bumped into someone, falling to the ground with a hard thud.

"ow..." you hissed. ‘that’s gonna hurt tomorrow.’

"are you okay? i’m so sorry,"

"it’s fine, i should..." You looked up and almost instantly initiated eye-contact with quite the stunning boy. He had white hair and wide purple eyes, formerly filled wth concern that now seemed to be glazed over with an unreadable emotion.

you felt your heart flutter the longer you stared, mind fluttering with just the thought of him.

he seemed to finally snap out of his daze, blinking and shaking away the thoughts flooding his mind. he got up and reached a hand to you.

"sanemi shinazugawa." he said sweetly. you took his hand and he pulled you up.

"y/n l/n." you bowed… and noticed your money was scattered across the ground. "oh shoot..."

you started picking it up and he leaned down to help you.

"what are you doing out, l/n?" He asked in an attempt to create conversation.

"i'm buying ingredients for dinner."

"need any help?" his eagerness surprised you, but you nodded. who would deny free help?

"yes, please." sanemi nodded, stood up and dropped the money in your hands. "thanks."

"yeah, of course." he waved it off and began walking around the stalls with you. he insisted on helping carry the items…

but eventually, you got side tracked and forgot to return home. it was sunset and the two of you were talking the day away, propped up against a tree and snacking on ohagi.

"it feels like i’ve known you for years." you commented, glancing at sanemi as you did. he gave an eager hum, posture perking up at the mention. his wide purple eyes stared into your e/c ones.

"me too. maybe we knew each other in a past life."

"you believe in that stuff?" you furrowed your eyebrows and he scoffed.

"yeah. i just hope that old bastard doesn't get another one."

you raised an eyebrow at that.

"who?" you pondered.

"my dad." he waved his hand dismissively and took another bite of his ohagi.

"oh.." you muttered. after a while of staring, your gaze wandering toward the setting sun. 'i wish we could stay here forever.' you thought, a smile spreading across your lips as you fiddled with the sleeve of your kimono.

your eyes flickered back to sanemi, then the sun, then back to sanemi. a double take, you could say, as you noticed the look he gave.

"what?" you asked quizzically. he shook his head, still smiling while he looked at you.

"’just noticed something."

"what?" You asked, shifting to look at him. "is there something on my face? tell me!"

he pursed his lips and crossed his arms.

"hm... okay." his expression became neutral as he stared into your eyes. "there’s something about you.”

“what do you mean? is that a good thing?”

he couldn’t help but crack a smile at your furrowed eyebrows and the curious look on your face.

“it is.” you watched his eyes flicker over your frame and land back on your own.

“stop being cryptic, what do you mean?” you asked impatiently.

sanemi rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless.

“i… just think you’re the prettiest girl i’ve ever seen.” he says softly.

it took a moment for you to process what he’d said but when you did, you felt your cheeks heating up with each passing second.

“you’re just being nice. surely you’ve seen much prettier girls-“

“and you’re just being modest.” sanemi shook his head.

“it’s not modesty, it’s honesty.”

“just because you rhyme doesn’t make it true..”

“hush.” you crossed your arms and sat back against the trunk of the tree.

sanemi leaned up a bit to stare at you before he got up, pulling a knife out of his pocket.

“woah, woah, okay, i’m being modest!”

he furrowed his eyebrows in bewilderment then scoffed.

“now i’m just offended.”

you stared up at him, watching as he started carving something in the tree. you got up to watch.

“hm…. is that a potato?”

“shut up.” he smirked at your playful remark then put his full focus onto the tree.

a short minute later, he flipped the knife back into his pocket and grinned.

“now we can find this tree whenever we hang out together.” he said.

“your s looks like shit.”

“you do it!”

you giggled at his pout and crossed arms. “it’s cute.”

“hm.” he looked back at the sunset, noticing how much darker it’d gotten. “oh shit we gotta get home-“

“oh yeah, i forgot about dinner!” you yelped, scrambling to collect the ingredients into your basket. “see you tomorrow?” you turned back to smile at sanemi.

“see you.” he smiled back, collecting his own items much calmer than you had.

≈≈🍃≈

“yes, sanemi, i know how you fell in love with me.” you say, trying to contain the grin that threatened to widen with ever passing second.

“and i love you more every day.” he adds as if you forgot.

“where are we going?” you ask after a few beats of comforting silence. sanemi’s posture stiffens, immediately turning the air awkward. “oh my gosh are you gonna show me your outhouse..?”

“what? no!” he laughs. “it’s a surprise.”

“so far i’m… loving it.” you mutter, dodging a tree branch that nearly smacked you in the face. “nemi!”

“sorry.” he chuckles. “but we’re almost there.”

you look down at the overgrown grass and weeds that threaten to tangle on your ankles if you make too quick a move.

“if i get bitten by a snake-“

“i’m good friends with snakes.” you glance down at his hand and purse your lips.

“mhm. who took your fingers then?”

“okay, you know that was muzan.”

“he’s a snake!”

“i shouldn’t have told you about demons…”

“i can’t wait to tell our kids about them.” sanemi’s heartbeat sped up when you said that. he’s convinced in that moment he fell even harder for you.

“we’ll make the most of the years i have left.”

“stop talking like you’re dead. you’re not dead yet.” you scolded. “i hate when you bring that up..”

“sorry.” he muttered.

“..it’s not showing right now, so the affects aren’t there right?”

“we don’t have to talk about that right now.” he looks up at the overgrown tree, a small smile on his face. “we’re here.”

“wow. nice, uh… nice tree.” sanemi whips around to gawk at you.

“you don’t remember?” he notices the smirk on your lips and he sucks his teeth. “you’re annoying.”

“of course i know this is our tree. you really think id forget?”

“i mean… you are kinda-“

“kinda what?”

“nothing.” your eyes narrowed accusingly.

“mhm.” sanemi dropped your hand and you walk up to the tree, looking for the carving of your initials. “oh, i found it!”

you turn around to show sanemi who’d gotten down on one knee.

“y/n..” he says gently. your smile fades as the moment sets in. “will you-“

without letting him finish his sentence, you cup his cheeks and kiss him like you’ll never see him again.

“yes.” you whisper, tears dripping down your cheeks. he can’t help the tears that flooded his eyes that he dared not let go.

“i love you.” he says softly, like if he spoke too loud it’d ruin the moment

“i love you more.” you say in return. and you know you’ve felt that way since day one.

#sanemi x reader #sanemi shinazugawa #kny x reader #kny #kny sanemi #fluff #little bit of angst ngl #plus size reader #poc reader #something about you #sanemi being a softy for his girlfriend #soon to be wife #wish he was real omg #crying #i need a sanemi

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thecuriousquest · 1 year

Text

Fire and Water

Yandere Dabi x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of murder (it doesn’t actually occur), violence, and fighting

Checkout my Master List here.

———————————————————————

You used to love hitting up the bar. The feeling of getting dressed up and doing your hair and makeup made you happy. You would take your time with your appearance before heading out.

You liked how guys would dote on you with heart-shaped eyes. They would buy you drinks and flirt with you. You loved every bit of it. What you loved most of all was how every guy would look at you like they wanted to get into your skirt, and you enjoyed it so long as they didn’t try anything.

However, your ex hated it. Dabi never let you out of the house looking like a “slut” as he called it. He would tell you to call your friends and tell them you’re staying home. He said it was for your own good in case things got heated at the bar. Translation: I don’t fucking trust you or the sloppy guys you’ll be around.

That was the last thing Dabi ever said to you. You broke up with him and ran away.

———

Now, you’re home from work, looking at the clock. It’s 7:30. You can’t do this again. Making up your mind, you decide to get sexy and go to the bar. You put on a little black dress, straighten your hair, and do your makeup. Your slip on your black pumps as you head out the door.

The walk to the bar isn’t bad. Only a few minutes. Once there, you take a seat and ask the bar tender for a cocktail and some water. You need to always stay hydrated because of your quirk.

You sit there patiently waiting for someone to come up to you. Minutes turn into an hour, and you find yourself looking around the bar. Have I lost my edge? Why isn’t there a fucking drink in my hand?

What you don’t realize is that there’s someone taking out the competition. You have no idea that there’s someone thwarting every man’s attempt to flirt with you or buy you a drink. You’re in the dark about the pile of unconscious men growing outside behind the bar.

After another hour and four more waters, you decide to leave, knowing nothing is going to happen. You wrap your arms around yourself as you walk home.

A pair of black boots enters your line of vision as you keep your head down while throwing yourself a pity party. You take in the person in front of you from toe to head, and you suddenly realize you’re in deep shit.

“Dabi, what the fuck are you doing here?”

“I’m here to save your sorry ass. Have you seen what you’re wearing? You look like a whore. Come on, let’s get you home so you can get out of those clothes.” You notice him trying to pull you in the direction of his house.

You dig your heels in to stop him. “Wait, stop!”

He looks down at you with those deadly cerulean eyes. “Damnit, Y/N, quit being so difficult. You’re dressed like such a slut. What if someone had tried to touch that cute ass? Someone that’s not me.” He pulls you close and roughly palms the meat of your rear. “It’s a good thing I was there to deal with all those bastards who tried to get with you tonight.”

You can’t help the dirty glare you send his way. “What did you do?” You growl.

“I beat them all up just for you, sweetie. You’re lucky I didn’t kill them. It would’ve been your fault, though. With you looking like that, I would’ve had to.”

With his quirk, you know Dabi is capable of great violence, but so are you when pushed far enough, and he just did.

A torpedo of water shoots forth from your hand and directly at his jaw. It’s enough force to rock his shit, maybe even give him a concussion if you’re lucky. You don’t wait for him to recover as you run.

Drawing your phone from your purse, you call the cops as you run towards your house. You hear it before you feel it, a blue whip of fire snapping down on your wrist. You drop your phone as you try to cradle the burnt flesh. You scream in pain. You have no choice but to face him head on.

You send attack after attack at him, all the while remaining aware of your quirks limitations. You know your abilities won’t work if you’re dehydrated, a cause of using your water quirk too much.

As you stand on shaky legs, you notice Dabi doesn’t even look slightly fazed. It’s like his fire is coming from his will to get you back, and he has an inferno waiting for you.

You send your last attack right to his stomach. You hear him try to gasp for air in pain. Taking advantage of the moment, you turn and run, this time towards a convenience store.

Only thirty feet to go.

Twenty feet, you hear his footsteps behind you.

Fifteen feet, they’re getting closer.

Ten feet, his hand grasps your uninjured wrist.

Nine feet, he grabs you around your waist and pulls you into his soaking wet chest.

“Got you,” he whispers in your ear.

#my hero acedamia #yandere #manipulation #mha dabi #yandere dabi x reader #yandere dabi

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atlasscrumpit · 2 years

Text

Moon knight x reader

Owned

Your body felt so heavy, it felt like someone had sedated you.

"Easy, dulce niña." You heard a suave voice whisper as you whimpered and slowly tried to open your eyes.

The first thing you saw was someone's knees, you followed it up to see a gloved hand with a gun pointed at you.

You gasped and fell back a little, snapping yourself out of your daze.

Your eyes travelled up further and you saw a man smiling at you.

"What's going on?" You whispered looking at him in fear.

"Don't worry, precioso." He said, the smile still on his face.

"You have some information that we need." He said as you looked at him in confusion.

"We?" You questioned before smoke began to form behind him, you watched a large bird like form appear.

"Khonshu." You grumbled looking at them unamused.

"Should've known this flashy bastard was your avatar." You grumbled as the man chuckled.

"You forget yourself, niña." He said clicking the gun as I glared at him.

"You won't fucking shoot me because you need me. I know what this is." You grumbled as Khonshu came closer to you.

"You have an avatar, you can't have me as well." You muttered as he chuckled lowly.

Gods and goddesses like him always tried to perform the ritual so they could have you as there's.

You were a powerful being and the Gods wanted you to do their bidding.

"That's why I have my avatar. He's going to own you." Khonshu growled as I chuckled.

"A human can't fucking own me you dumb bird." You growled as the avatar stood up and chuckled.

"Oh, mi amor. You've got no idea what we can do." He said kneeling down to stroke his hand over your face.

"You're fucking disgusting." You growled before he slapped you across the face.

"Might have to teach you to respect your new master." He said as you kept your head looking away from him.

"Let's perform the ritual." Khonshu said as you felt tears in your eyes.

"Fine, take away my freedom. Humans are heartless creatures." You whispered, but they ignored you.

They began the ritual as you kept your eyes closed.

You felt the familiar burning on your chest where his symbol would burn into your skin.

You bit down on your lip trying to not scream in pain.

It was finally ever and you panted and looked down at your chest.

"Three?" You muttered in shock, you didn't think it was possible to have three masters.

"Why do I have three masters?" You muttered, the avatar looked angry.

"I thought you said Marc and Steven wouldn't be an issue." The man growled at the god.

"I don't understand." You whispered looking up at them.

"Deal with it, Jake." Khonshu growled letting you finally know the name of the man.

"There are others within this body, they are your master now too. But you listen to me and me only, is that understood?" Jake growled pointing the gun at you again as you nodded.

"Of course, master." You replied making him smile.

"Good, then we won't have a problem." He said as you looked away from him.

"Take her somewhere safe where no one will find her for the time being."

You'd arrived back at what you assumed was Jake's apartment.

He went up to a book shelf and pushed it away to reveal a metal door.

"Welcome home." He said opening the door and shoving me inside making me fall.

"I'll be back soon. Don't go anywhere." He said chuckling before he closed the door.

It was completely dark and you curled in on yourself.

This was the cruel reality you were used to.

After about two hours you heard someone stumbling around outside.

"Marc, why did you leave my books in such a mess?" A British voice muttered as you stood up slowly.

Should you call out to him?

Jake and Khonshu would be mad.

But Marc and Steven were technically your masters as well.

"Help!" You screamed out bashing on the door.

"Behind the book shelf!" You shouted hearing heavy breathing.

"Marc, is this your doing?" He muttered as you waited for a moment and heard him shuffling around.

You heard the book shelf being moved away.

"I just need to find a key!" He shouted out as I backed up against the wall and took a deep breath, praying he would find it.

"I can't find a key!" He shouted in desperation before you heard a loud bang and the door was ripped open.

"I don't need a key." He said, you noticed now this must be Marc.

"Want to explain why the hell you're locked in a secret room in my apartment?" He said as you stepped out and took a deep breath.

"Khonshu needed me to use, so he got Jake to perform a ritual to own me. So, now you, Steven and Jake own me." You explained as he looked at you in shock.

"Jake and Khonshu are working together?" He asked as you nodded.

"Fuck, that fucking bird."

#moon knight #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #Reader insert #Moon knight x reader #Marc Spector x reader #Steven Grant x reader #Jake lockley x reader #Fic

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zeestarfishalien · 1 year

Text

First | Previous | Next

Part 4: Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust

The pull returns as soon as Jason steps foot outside the cemetery gates. Something in him urges him to hurry.

It doesn’t make logical sense. It’s just a dead body in an unmarked grave. That’s certainly nothing new or surprising for Gotham. Jason is not about to let it slip through the cracks but right now he has other more time-sensitive things to get done.

He slips on a comm.

“Hey O, you there?”

Her response takes less than 3 seconds. [What is it, Jaybird?]

“I’ve got an unmarked grave in a back corner of the Gotham City Cemetery. It’s at least a couple years old.” He pauses on the street corner to glance back at the cemetery gates. For just a second he thinks he spots a set of glowing green eyes but it's gone in a blink.

[And?]

Bab's question pulls Jason back out of his head.

“And I want to get a look at the body and everything so that the cops don’t conveniently miss anything.”

[You know what B is gonna ask,] she warns.

He sighs and drags a free hand down his face. “I know and I don’t have a good reason for why I was there. Just…gut feeling I guess.”

[We can keep this from him for now, at least until we go digging,] she replies.

This is why she's Jason's favorite pseudo-sibling. She's good at keeping secrets from B. He doesn't even have to ask most of the time. She just understands how much of a nosy bastard Bruce can be and more importantly, she understands that some things need to come out in their own time.

"Har har, O. You're hilarious," he deadpans back.

[Of course I am. Someone had to inherit Alfred's impeccable sense of humor.]

"Oh please, you wish." Jason snorts. "I gotta get back to business. Catch you on the flip side."

[I'll set up an algorithm to try to run through and narrow down footage from around the cemetery, but you better bring me some donuts when you next come by. The good ones from that shop near your place outside Burnley,] she orders and hangs up before Jason can respond, leaving him smiling as he removes his comm.

He has a few crime-time things to work out but then he can focus on the unmarked grave.

Things are a mess in his crew right now. Things are just not going Jason’s way today. A seller got spooked and dumped the product in the harbor. Bill’s wife went into labor prematurely, so there went one of Jason’s best henchmen. What? He’s not a monster. He did catch one of the new guys selling to kids and had to deal with that. By the time he finishes up a plenty eventful patrol, he is exhausted and pretty much just collapses in a pile of goo on his bed. Not even the insistent tug can keep him up beyond a passing thought to try to find more information later today when he wakes up.

The opening chords of Holding Out for a Hero -but not the original Bonnie Tyler version, oh no, it's the version from Shrek the musical- greets Jason's newly conscious mind. There's only one person in Jason's life with enough access and the gall to change their ringtone in his phone to this specific song.

"Dickwad, what do you want?"

[Awe, someone's grouchy. Not happy to hear from your favorite brother?] Dick's whine almost gets a chuckle out of Jason, but he'll deny that to his dying undying? breath.

"Holding Out for a Hero? Really?" Dick's cackle is a deranged sounding thing, especially over the phone. "What warranted a call this early in the afternoon? If it were for the laughs you would've done it where you could see my face when my phone rang."

[Ugh,] Dick complains, [this is why I hate being in a family of detectives.]

"So says the detective."

[Fine, fine. I just got some intel on a group trying to move a new strain of speed. It's some extra nasty stuff and they're looking at Gotham, specifically Crime Alley. I figured I'd see if you want in on it.]

"I'm busy right now, dead body."

[Oh shoot. How fresh?]

"Dunno," Jason sighs. "I found an unmarked grave, definitely old enough for the ground to have settled."

[Oh, if it's that, can't it wait? Body won't go anywhere. Better yet, tip the cops and let them get the initial legwork done,] Dick says lightly. [You can take it after that.]

The tugging in his gut protests at the thought of leaving the body in that grave to the cops, or anyone really.

"Gut says no."

[Jaybird...]

"There's something more here. I need to be the one digging it up, even if I leave it to the cops later on," Jason insists.

[How much of a risk is there of someone finding it in the meantime?] Dick has dropped into his professional voice now and it's weird how reassuring that is, Dick taking him seriously on something that seems so illogical.

"Low. It's tucked back in the far corner of the cemetery, surrounded by trees," he replies.

[Jay...you hate the cemetery. You hate going within three whole blocks of the cemetery. What were you doing there?]

"I needed to check something and that led me to the grave," Jason states vaguely. "Don't ask me how. I'm not sure I even have the words to explain it, especially not over the phone. It feels important Dickie. Logically I know it's just a long dead body, probably bones, but The Black Dog was there for a reason."

[The black dog? What black dog?]

"I think it's an actual church grim, or I guess a barghest in this case since it's a cemetery and not a graveyard.” He can practically feel Dick’s questions bubbling to the surface in the silence between them. “Just, go do some research. Look up Church Grims. I’ve got work to do, plans to dig up the cemetery.”

[Jay, I really think you should wait on this,] Dick begins softly, [take a step back to look objectively.]

“With all due respect Dickerson, shove it up your ass." Jason takes a breath to release the unreasonable annoyance. His voice drops to a soft rumble. "You didn’t see Spooky, the way they looked at me.”

[Oh no…you’ve already named it? We’re doomed!] There’s a pause before, [if you want help with the grave, I’m willing to help dig it up.]

Jason sighs softly, a smile tugging at his lips. “Thanks Dickiebird. You take care out there. Don’t let that ass get shot, your rogues will cry.”

Dick scoffs but Jason hangs up before he can retort. Thus Jason begins his day, light pre-breakfast snack, warm-up workout, breakfast, the rest of his usual prep work for going out as Red Hood.

Jason swears, anytime he goes over with the intention to ask his information dealers about the unmarked grave, something comes up. None of the camera footage he's been sent to review so far has turned up anything. This whole week has been a bust and he's about ready to break out the shovel and go dig that grave up now. He knows it's illogical but he can barely sleep, the thought that he's missing something, that he needs to hurry hurry hurry, keeps him up and he's starting to feel like he's going insane. It's as he decides he going to return to the cemetery that his comm goes off. It's the emergency frequency, the emergency frequency specifically chosen for major Arkham breakouts. Fuck...

It takes the whole next week and a half for them to track down and re-lock up Gotham's worst offenders, even with Jason and Dick's help. Hell, Cass even flew in from Hong Kong. The chaos in the streets and destruction left in the wake of this event are taking even longer to resolve. What few hours rest Jason has been able to snag are plagued by dreams of Spooky and the unmarked grave. There's dreams of everything from the dog dissolving to someone trying to claw their way free of the grave. The latter one spooking Jason the most despite how his logic reminds him that such a thing is impossible. He and Babs have already ruled out the body being dumped recently. She checked the footage when Jason woke from the dream, of the victim being buried alive, for the first time and called her in his paranoid panic. They both understood that it was most likely the trauma, but she'd been kind enough to check just in case.

Jason wakes in a cold sweat to the sharp absence of that soul pull to the cemetery. It's very telling of how used to it he's grown that the absence of it nearly sends him into a state of panic. He's throwing on the closest clothes and nearly half-way out the door before he remembers that he should probably talk to someone. He races back for his phone and jabbing his finger at Alfred's contact before snagging his keys and throwing himself out the doors.

[Young Master Jason. To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?]

"The pull is gone," Jason says with no preamble. Alfred is the only person he's gone into detail about the pull of the cemetery to. Even though he hasn't had a chance to speak with him about Spooky, Alfred will understand better than anyone. "Dickie there?"

[Yes, Young Master Richard is currently helping Young Master Damian with his animals out back. Shall I fetch him for you?]

"No, no, have him tell you about Spooky and the grave. You can call Babs in too. She's been helping me with trying to find more info." Jason checks his key chain for the keys to his main storage unit. He has a shovel there. "Also tell Dickie that I'll take him up on his offer to help me dig up a grave."

[Certainly Young Master Jason. Might we be keeping this event "on the down-low" so-to-speak as well?]

"Alfie, you're a godsend. Thank you."

SO! Good news and bad news. Bad news, I had to split this chapter so this is what you get. Good news, I've been on a massive writing spree so the next chapter is well over halfway done. This was honestly the best place to cut this chapter. I'll continue making each chapter it's own post now too, but I'll still link everything together. This chapter and most of the future chapters will probably be titled with lyrics from Momento Mori by Fish in a Birdcage bc it's insane how well that fits.

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[Tag List] @emergentpanda-blog @my-perfect-storybook-love @gunebugfic @thegatorsgoose @thewondersoflebanon @bobred18 @d4ydr34min9 @ver-444 @redafi @echoednonny @greenmuffinofdoom @mentalcarebear @fisticuffsatapplebees @vythika96 @writer-extraodinaire @meira-3919 @yjfk @oddlydrawnpuppets @crystalqueertea @lazy-bouqet @darkthunder1589 @mnemovoid @keimiwolf @aarinisreading @love-has-no-labels @terzatheunderscorerima @idkmrpianoman @mur-ururu @chip-thief @kawaiikenna @rangerhorsetug @treepainting @thatonegirl10 @demiourgias @spooky-fm @antagonisticly @fluffy23sblog @manglethemingle @kyrianclawraith @layyeschips @shepardking @asphyxia778 @ballzfrog @fluffen-spooky @drowningroane @deathsdaisy @malaayna @mistyaltair @potatoeofwisdom @heartsong18 @nixthenerd @icedbluesoul @the-church-grimm @overtherose @sara0055 @banishedthumbs @tired-yet-awaken @dannyphantomphan @nonbinary-disaster @depressed-bitchy-demon @8-29pm @addie-lover-of-stories @lifefilledwithstories @apointlessbox @skulld3mort-1fan @katgirl05 @spookytragedyshark @mandyne-1001 @ascetic-orange

#dp x dc #church grim danny au #the black dog danny #dc x dp #jason todd #danny phantom crossover #red hood #buried alive

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yeehawkins · 8 months

Text

Ricki Tikki MacTavish

Back home for once, Soap brings Ghost over to his flat. A small visitor awaits them

Coming home is an exceptionally rare luxury. And an even more rare occurrence is Simon Riley actually having any time away from the field. Johnny wanted to seize his chance to get to know the other more. Plus, he knows Ghost has nowhere to go, so it was only right to invite him over to his place. Really, it was more of a plead than an invitation, as old habits rarely die with that man.

As they approach the apartment door, Soap pulls out a monstrosity of keys.

"How many fucking flats do you own?" Ghost states in astonishment.

"Just the one,'' Soap responds.

“Going to be here for ages trying to get into it.” Ghost states, rolling his eyes.

“Have a little faith.” Soap grins, almost magically flipping to the correct key with one cacophony of jingling, shaking it some more in triumph.

A little more jangling of keys, and Soap unlocks the apartment door, gesturing for Ghost to go ahead.

Ghost couldn't help but gawk upon entering. A few stains on the carpet notwithstanding, the place was downright pristine.

After tossing his bags by the door, Soap takes a look at his welcome guest.

"What? Never seen a clean flat before?" Soap teased.

"Well I certainly didn't expect one from you" Ghost retorted.

"Think I got the name by being filthy?"

"Oh I know where you got the name, slippery bastard" Ghost lets out a guffaw then picks up the shorter Scot, scooping him up in a hug. This knocks the air out of Soap a bit, and gets him blushing.

"Easy with the goods!" he laughs.

"That was easy"

Their banter is cut short, as there was someone else in the apartment. Ghost puts down his friend, and turns around. A small, fluffy tabby cat has made its presence known. The cat is quite loud, and continues to meow until Soap leans over to acknowledge her. He immediately melts at the sight of his beloved cat, scooping her up in his arms.

"Ricki! Oooh I've missed the hell out of you! My wee lady hold down the fort alright? Not give Ms. Darcy any trouble, did ya?"

Ghost watches as Soap devolves into a babbling Scottish mess at this cat. He lets out a chuckle, almost endeared at the display. "Didn't tell me you had a missus."

"Ah Ms. Darcy's just my landlord. Takes care of Ricki when I’m gone," says Soap.

"I mean the cat, MacTavish."

Snapping a bit out of his loving stupor, Soap tucks Ricki under his arm like a football. "This here's Ricki. My gran couldn't resist her face, but her allergies certainly could. So I took her in," He pauses to scritch the top of the cat's head with his other hand.

Ghost gives a genuine smile. His eyes go between Soap and Ricki, and raises his eyebrows at the man, clearly asking a question.

“Go ahead. Unlike me, she doesn’t bite.” Soap smirks, now holding Ricki like a baby.

Ghost almost seems apprehensive to pet the cat, not wanting to spook her. However as he moves his hand towards her, she pushes her face up to his hand, purring loudly.

“Aww, looks like you’re allowed to stay,” says Soap.

“Didn’t know there’d be a test,” Ghost replies contently, with much of his focus now on the purring cat. “Good to know you’ve got someone looking out for you off the job”

"Aye, really we look out for each other.” Soap beams, using one of his hands to now rub the cat’s belly. “Ricki canny hear a thing. Deaf as all, but fuckin’ loud as all too. Wouldn’t have her any other way”

Ricki takes a gentle swat at Soap's hand, shooting him a look. Ghost retracts his to avoid being included in getting hit.

“Guess the welcome party’s over” Ghost jokes.

Soap sets Ricki back down on the floor. She goes right back to meowing once on the floor, circling Soaps legs.

“I believe somebody’s hungry,” Soap states.

Once he has a briefly clear path, he begins walking toward the kitchen, Ricki weaving in and out between each stride. He opens up a cabinet, and looks back over at Ghost.

“Well come have a sit, Simon. You’re allowed inside more than 5 feet, you know.” Soap hollered.

Truthfully Simon was in a bit of a trance, never much of the social type and perfectly content just watching Johnny and his cat do their thing. Hearing his name definitely snapped him out of it though. He walks over to the large couch in the living room and sits, still watching the other man and the cat in the kitchen.

Johnny takes out a small bag of cat food, but looks down and notices her bowl is still full.

“Oh you cheeky shite!” he laughs, looking at the cat staring at him, bending over to scritch her head. She simply yells back.

“Fine, fine, a treat for my girl,” Johnny happily sighs, putting away the cat food and grabbing a smaller bag. He pours out a few treats into his hand, which prompts her to spring up onto the counter, somehow getting even louder.

Johnny waggles a finger in front of her like a dad. “Ah ah ah! You know the deal.” He then points downward.

Simon’s eyes widened. Upon this gesture, Ricki sits down, still looking up at Johnny and yelling of course. Johnny laughs and hands her a treat, placing the rest down on the counter for her, which she happily eats. He then walks over to the couch to join his guest, who is not at all hiding his surprise at what he just saw.

“You trained a cat.” Simon states in shock.

“Yep.” Johnny responds matter-of-factly, leaning back on the couch and kicking his feet up on the coffee table.

“And I’m the one outta my mind for drinking bourbon?” Simon laughs.

“Yeeep.” Johnny replies in the exact same tone. The two then catch each other's eyes, and exchange laughs. They both settle even deeper into the couch and let out content sighs, Johnny leaning his head back and shutting his eyes with a smile on his face.

#woag is me #call of duty #cod mw2 #soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghostsoap #can be viewed as platonic/just friends or as shippy #thank you to wyn for encouraging me to actually post this dsnjkfbsf #wrote this a while ago but here be #yes i wanted to make a pun name for the cat #and yes i wanted soap to have a cat #i know im not the most descriptive #but this is just a drabble #(idk if thats actually the right word but eh shush and enjoy some snarky dudes playing with a cat)

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minniepetals · 2 years

Text

cry me a river | the abuser and the bystander

— summary: it hurts just as much knowing someone could have stopped it all but chose to stand by and watch instead

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: angst, mafia!au

— word count: 7.4k

— warnings: violence, mentions of physical abuse, use of poison, mentions of child labor and child abuse, manipulation, gaslighting

— PART 10 / previous part / masterpost

He levels a glare your way but even still, furrows his brows with confusion by your words. “What?”

“It’s alright, Hoseok, let him go,” you tell the man beside you with a soft pat against his arm. Hoseok hesitates to do so, a glare leveled at Jummy but he gives in to your words nonetheless, letting go but not without force and causing Jummy to go into a fit of coughs.

You grin with amusement. “Hey, Jummy,” with a hand trailing onto his shoulder to wrap itself around and hold the nape of his neck, you lean forward so close to his ears in order to fall out of earshot from everyone but Jummy. “You know what’s funny?” Hoseok’s brows furrow at the sight, not liking how close you are to the man and the fact that he can’t hear a thing you’re saying. “My father never once laid his hands on me.”

“That’s because that bastard always had others do the job for him.”

“That’s right, and you were one of those people, weren’t you? So don’t you think it would be right for me to do the same?” You take a step back, a smirk held his way.

“...What?”

“Yuna.”

The second you speak the name, Yuna is at your side in an instant. No one knows where she came from but here she is without falter, dressed in complete black from head to toe.

“For all the times you were stood on the side, unable to do anything as Jummy did what he wanted to do with me, you can seek your revenge now.” If Yuna had eyes, you’re sure they would have darkened at your commands, or perhaps they would have filled with thrill and excitement. She grabs ahold of her two sai blades which lied on each side of her belt, spinning them well along her fingers before holding onto them with a tight grip, and even without eyes, Jummy feels his body running cold upon Yuna’s attention.

“Y-you really think you can come here and take over my party? All the guests here are—”

“No one’s on your side, Jummy, haven’t you realized that?” Upon your words, he looks around frantically for help but no one steps up. “If they were to come after me, it’d be their revenge for me taking Daejung’s head but in your case, only you can protect yourself now.”

“I-I have my own people to—”

A bullet from a high distance shoots a man down when he tries to come to his boss’s aid and you send the man a smile as the party falls into an uproar upon Dasom’s signal.

“Well then, good luck, Jummy.”

With that, you turn your back on him and begin to walk away as your people take over.

“He wasn’t the one you were after was he?” Hoseok asks, his feet carrying him to walk along your side.

You shrug. “Hey Hoseok, could I perhaps give you the honor to get rid of a man for me? I think you’d quite enjoy the job.”

“Who?” He doesn’t ask why, just ready at your command and you take ahold of your gun amidst the chaos, pointing it at a man from afar and without hesitation, shoot right upon the thigh of his leg.

“That man,” you say. “Looks familiar, doesn’t he?”

A limp in his foot, the other leg now taken from you once more, and Hoseok gets his gun ready. “What about you?” He asks, wondering what your plans were.

“Don’t worry about that, I can take care of myself.” With that, you’re taking off on your feet, disappearing into the crowd with your long black dress and heels clicking away.

Hoseok stands there watching you for some time before he takes off in the opposite direction, trusting you in your plans. “Jimin, Yoongi,” he calls into the intercom.

In just a split second, the younger man’s voice comes in. “Hyung.”

“Get to Y/N,” he orders as he catches sight of the limping man trying to escape. “Something tells me this is bigger than it seems.”

There’s no way you just put on a show just for the fun of it. Jummy wasn’t your target. Perhaps he was indeed someone who did you wrong but you’re letting one of your members kill him off for you, telling him that perhaps all of this was just to divert the crowds’ attention from somewhere else.

Somewhere you’re heading towards.

“She’s heading for her real target.”

“Hello there, Ying.”

You slide in through the window like a slithering snake and situate yourself against the windowsill with a leg crossed over the over, revealing more of your bare legs.

Ying pauses in his tracks as he looks over at the call of his name, his expression appearing calm as he turns to face you and gives you his full attention. Adjusting the collars on his sleeves, two of his men who fall on each side of him stands tall and intimidating, while he observes you.

“Missed me?” You chirp with an easy-going grin.

“Y/N,” he says, voice low and calm, unlike his hot-headed younger brother. “You seem to be doing well.”

“Well, taking over the throne has certainly given me much more freedom than my father would ever have,” you say, shrugging lightly. From the corner of your eyes, you notice two familiar silhouettes just outside your viewpoint, blind to the men before you.

“You have my brother cornered, who knew you were such a smart woman behind that silent gaze. Are you upset at him for what he’s done to you?”

“Oh Ying, if I was that upset, I would have taken care of him myself, no? Jummy’s just a waste of my time.”

His brows crease slightly. “Then why are you here? To sign an alliance with me?”

You laugh aloud. “Men are so, so foolish, aren’t they?” You jump from the windowsill, approaching him, and even as his two men step up on guard against you, you ignore them to continue your way towards Ying who remains standing still with no will to move away. “Did you know that the abuser and the ones who simply decide to just watch the abuser and do nothing about it are just as bad?”

“So what? You’re upset I never stepped in to help you?”

“If I was really that weakhearted, would I have survived for this long?” You ask him, a raise in your brow. “You pretend to be the good brother, the knight in shining armor, and if I wasn’t such a smart little girl, I would have totally fallen for your charms and believed you were on my side all along. But in reality, there’s something much darker about you, isn’t there?”

“What are you saying?” He looks down at you with furrowed brows as you play with his tie. “Was my kindness to you not enough?”

“Kindness?” You snicker. “You don’t actually believe offering me a few sweet words and tending to my wounds after your brother’s abuse would have been enough to swoon me, did you?”

“Just clench your teeth and the next time it happens, it’ll all be over before you know it.” You remain silent as he speaks those words, head lowered while he sits before you, carefully looking over your body and tending to the wounds himself. Even though he has his own men in the room, Ying always offered to do the treating himself.

But this isn’t kindness.

Not when he’s always there to watch Jummy hurt you and do nothing about it, simply letting his younger brother do his thing, and then deciding to step in once it seems the ignorant brat is done taking his anger out.

This isn’t kindness. He’s just trying to sweeten you up, have you believing he’s on your side when he’s really not.

You’re just a puppet to his eyes, someone who can help him in the future, someone who can give him power and authority. He wants to use you, to pretend to be a good man, and perhaps even make you fall in love with him in order to claim the Reaper’s seat.

You’re much too scarred to ever trust a man that easily again but if he wants to pretend then you’ll pretend as well.

“Why don’t you do anything, Ying?” You ask him in a small voice, pretending to slowly break. “You’re the older brother, can’t you…can’t you stop Jummy? It hurts, Ying.”

“I know, but it won’t be too long until all of this is over, alright? Just hold on a little longer.”

Just hold on a little longer. It’ll be over soon.

That’s what he always tells you. How long has it been since the first time he’s spoken those words? Perhaps a year now. Yet he still thinks he can sway you with such words.

“I’ll be right back. I’m going to talk to Jummy, alright?” When you don’t give him an answer, you feel his large palm touch you on the top of your head. And then, he leaves along with his men, leaving you all to yourself once more.

When you look up to stare at his back, the glare that levels his way, even after the door closes, doesn’t ever leave.

You rip the bandage he wrapped around you, calling unto your boys. “Mingyu. Yeonjun.”

They come in a split second.

“Be a good girl and head back home, Y/N. You’ve already gotten Jummy.”

He takes you to be a fool, he always had from the very moment he laid eyes on you. The Reaper had always been quite a force and because of that, you were a tool used by your father who wished to exploit you in all the ways possible.

When Ying found that out, he decided to fake his way into your heart and pretend to care when no one else did, having no idea of your own loyal members who were already doing their jobs well.

Yet unlike him who only stood by to watch willingly and feign his kindness afterward, your Reapers always had a hard time holding themselves back when watching you get hurt by your father’s men. Unlike him who had the power to stop them at any time, your Reapers were forced to stand back, knowing that one wrong move would have your secrets all spilled out and everyone would end up dead while you suffer the consequences.

There is a difference between being a willing bystander while knowing you have the power to do something, and being a bystander who has no power and no choice but to stand and watch, knowing that if they were to do something, it would result in serious consequence.

Ying is different from your people.

He feigns his kindness and you hate fake people.

“If you want me to go home, get these men out of the way.”

“No.”

“Why not?” You feign a pout. “Do you see me as a threat, Ying? Aren’t I just a hopeless little girl who needs a knight in shining armor in your eyes? What can a small girl like me do to you? Look,” you slither your hands up and around his neck, causing his men to quickly act but are immediately held back by Jimin and Yoongi. You ignore them to remain staring into Ying’s eyes. “My hands can barely wrap themselves around you. If I were to choke you, you’d have me dead in a split second.”

Ying remains still as he meets your cunning gaze, face only deciding to inch closer to him.

“Ah but my sweet Ying wouldn’t ever hurt me, would he? You promised after all.” You laugh at the memories before looking over to the side when more of his men seem to gather around. Jimin and Yoongi step up to deal with them while you keep yourself busy with the boss at hand. “Hey Ying, maybe you could call off your men, yeah?”

“You’re here to kill me, aren’t you?”

“Hm…am I?”

“Do you want an apology? For all the times I stood by and didn’t stop my brother from hurting you? Is that what you want?”

How foolish. “No, I just want you dead,” you admit casually as if speaking about the weather. “You have to realize, Ying, that it hurts just as much knowing someone could have stopped it all but chose to stand by and watch instead.”

Namjoon was the sole reason the relationship fell and when you needed the rest of them to step up, they did absolutely nothing. He was in power, sure, a man in a position higher than any of you, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t have done anything for you.

You wonder what was going on in their heads when Namjoon spoke insults at you, when you were so desperate to save the relationship, pretending everything was okay while trying your best to keep everything stable with everyone else. You wonder what they were thinking when you fell silent upon their ignorance, upon your desperation.

You wonder why they never did anything to stop Namjoon. You wonder why they never tried to help you.

You wonder why they just stood there, doing nothing.

“You’re just as bad as the abuser.”

As you speak those words, something so small yet so sharp stabs against the nape of his neck. Ying’s face crumbles with pain, his body lurching forward, falling to his knees, but his struggle doesn’t last long because just seconds later, his heavy body has dropped to the floor, left lifeless.

You’ve learned from Daejung that simple poison won’t work on the men you’re trying to rid of. They’ll put up a fight, hurt you, and cause you more damage than you’ve already gotten from them. So you had Yeonjun look into creating a much more lethal poison that wouldn’t give you any trouble.

It worked.

“Y/N—” You ignore Yoongi to throw a dagger at the man who ran up from behind him.

“Come on, Yoongi, you know better than to get distracted during a battle.” With that, the three of you come together to deal with the rest of the men who’re too stubborn to leave you be, especially after their boss had just fallen.

They should know when to retreat, especially when you give them no mercy and claw away at them, stabbing blades after blades, shooting each of them down with your gun. You don’t care for the messes you’re making, you welcome it.

After all, disorder is much better than perfection.

And soon enough, everyone’s body has fallen dead on the floor with you standing right in the middle.

When the two men look at you, they see nothing but a blank stare, emotionless and filled with an empty void. You don’t cower before the blood, you don’t even attempt to rid of the stench and stain which now decorates your body and dress.

Instead, you stand there almost as lifeless as the bodies on the floor.

When you look up at them, there is nothing but silence.

You’re just as bad as the abuser, they remember you say and for a moment it almost seems to be directed at them.

They still remember those days as clear as the sun. How could they not? They once loved you so dearly and now a part of you will always doubt that love.

“Feel better, alright?” Those were the words Jimin remembers saying to you at the beginning of it all, as if it was that simple, as if it was that easy.

But it wasn’t and when you needed them the most, they left you all alone.

It’s a long silence but eventually, you’re the first to break the stillness of the room, stepping towards Ying’s body to search for something in his pockets.

“We’re not done yet,” you say.

“We aren’t?”

“I didn’t come here just to kill a few people.” A black card flashes in your hand from Ying’s pocket and you begin to walk off. “Follow me,” you say, and after sharing a glance at one another, the two of them follow along.

You lead them to the end of the hallway where an old elevator resides and step right on in. Once there, you scan the black card upon an empty space, causing a small beeping sound to then resound and the ground floor button appears.

Jimin’s brows furrow. “What is this?”

“Ying had a secret he kept from everyone. Something I found out a year into knowing him so I had my team investigate his suspicious act and low and behold,” the doors open to show a dark underground, “there was something quite dark and disgusting about the man.”

“What’d you find out?”

You fall silent without an answer to Yoongi’s question, simply stepping forward to walk into the darkness. They follow without a word, knowing they’d find out the truth themselves. It grows colder and colder by the second the further the three of you walk through the undergrounds, until eventually you make a right and a few guards that have been posted are seen.

They’re on the floor for some reason, however, lifeless, and you guess someone must have already gotten here before you.

Your brows furrow at the sight until the dungeon of cages appears and a man stands in the middle of the hallway, holding onto a child while more surround him at his feet.

“Children…?” Yoongi whispers in disbelief at the sight of frail little children who’re now out of the cages, clothes shriveled up and ragged, their bodies dirty, faces heavy with fatigue as if they’ve been forced to do harsh labor.

You don’t pay attention to them even as a few gasps upon your entrance, your eyes are simply trained at the man in the middle, feet quickening until you’re up kicking the dirt from the ground and jumping right in to land a forceful kick on his stomach, causing him to fly backward and hit the wall behind him.

You walk forward to grab the little boy out of his hand, a glare leveled his way.

“What are you doing hanging around him willingly?” You ask the boy in your arms, brows furrowed with anger.

“B-but he—”

Before he can say another word, you inject a needle poison into the man’s neck and the children gasp at the sight of a man killed right before their eyes.

“Y/N what the hell?” There’s no way you just did that in front of the children.

You ignore the two men to turn back to the children as you set the boy down and crouch to their level, eyes stern and hard while they lower their heads, cowering in fear.

“Well?” You prompt, demanding an answer out of them.

Sunoo, the little boy, speaks up. “He…he was nice, milady.”

“So what? Are you going to trust every nice adult out there?” You accuse, voice hard and scary despite the fact that you aren’t yelling. You never yell, not once have they ever heard you yell, but when you’re like this, you’re much more scary than all the other adults that have laid their hands on them.

“Tell me, Poya,” you turn to the little girl closest to you and she straightens up upon your call, “when has that man ever helped you?”

“He…” She hesitates. “He would give us extra food when we behaved well and..and he would treat our wounds when we got hurt.”

“And did he ever do anything else?”

“Huh?” She looks up, confused.

“When Ying would come in, yell at you, accuse you all of something you hadn’t done, criticize you for your lack of your strength, your lack of worth, and when the others would harm you when you did one small thing wrong, tell me, did he ever step up then?”

“W-well…”

“That’s because he couldn’t!”

“Yeah! He couldn’t.”

Your eyes harden and they quickly fall silent once more. “That man may not have authority over Ying but he had enough authority to stop the rest of the guards from hurting you, didn’t he? Look at you.” You take one of their hands, turning the palm over to find it swollen. “Pain.” You point to a little boy’s knee. “Cuts.” You shove the sleeves of a little girl to reveal her arm. “Wounds and bruises. You see this? Did he ever stop them from hurting you? And who are you to know the medicine he treated you with will help you rather than cause you more pain? He only stepped in when there were no eyes on him, only smiled at you and gave you sweet words when everyone else was gone or asleep. Do you really believe this to be kindness?”

They don’t say a thing but you know your words are getting to them.

They’re understanding.

“He didn’t abuse you but he stood there doing nothing and only faked his kindness after you were hurt,” you point out with a hard stare. “There is a difference between not being able to do anything out of your control and doing nothing at all when you know you could’ve helped. This isn’t kindness.”

You see the way their shoulders tense up, how their bodies begin to tremble, a teardrop falling to the floor from a lowered head, how they’re completely silent and still, knowing that showing you any form of weakness or tears will only cause you to push them away.

Because Sir Mingyu said crying in front of you will only burden you. You hate tears, you hate weaknesses, you hate love. So they have to be careful around you.

They have to be careful if they want to remain by your side.

“Why were you late?” Sunoo asks, his voice cracking a bit but he clears his throat afterward, looking up to feign bravery and strength. When he looks at you, there is no ounce of hatred in his eyes, no level of accusatory leveled your way. Just the burden of a child who should not have lived through the things he did. Yet he puts you first and foremost. “Are you okay now?”

“Do not concern yourself with me,” you deadpan in an emotionless tone. “Worry about your own well-being first if anything.”

“You got hurt,” Vinni says, tugging at the blood stains on your dress.

“Was it difficult coming here?” Lily asks, her hand coming up to take your hand as she stares at the cut you grazed on your arm.

“Who do you think I am?”

“Right, of course. My lady fought well,” she says, her brows furrowing slightly when her little hands come up to gently stroke around the blood of the cut, making sure she doesn’t accidentally touch the cut.

You notice her concern. “Seems blood doesn’t scare you anymore.”

“I’ve gotten braver!” She declares proudly when she looks up at you with a bright smile.

“Have you now.”

“Mmh!” She nods happily. “It’s because we knew you were coming soon, milady. We were right to believe in you.”

You frown. “What did I say about believing in people so easily? Even I can betray you one day. What would happen if I were to never show up? Would you still believe in me until the day of your death?”

“Well…” She hesitates, unsure of what to say upon your interrogation. Even in front of the children, you remain hard-headed, unwavering, but even then they were never afraid of you. You’re not like the rest of the adults, after all. Even behind that cold gaze, you’re kind. “I just knew,” she whispers, “I knew you wouldn’t abandon us.”

Because just like them, you were once a lost little child who had no one to rely on, hating the evils of the adults, not knowing who to trust and who to keep your guard up against.

Just like them, you were hurt plenty by the people around you.

Seeing the small little tears in their eyes which they do so well to hold in for your sake, you know just how strong they’ve been.

“You did well,” you speak into the silence, “all of you.”

The way their eyes brighten, the way their lips curl up upon such simple words are almost enough to let the tears flow but they keep strong, blinking them away, hiding them into their arms when some of them can’t keep it in.

“Where will we go now, milady? What will happen to us now?” Sunoo asks, his eyes filled with worry as he looks up at you with his big rounded eyes.

When you stand back up, their eyes follow you like you’re the alpha of the wolf pack, looking at you for guidance, for instructions. “You said you believe me, right? So heed by those words and just worry about yourself. I will take care of everything.”

“Mingyu! Sir Mingyu!”

“Miss Somi!”

Dasom’s face cringes with discomfort as she eyes the second in command with disgust. “Why the hell are they calling me that? They picked it up from you, you bastard.”

“Hey, mind your language,” he whispers to her ear. “Also it’ll do you well to look more kindly in front of the children.”

She tsks while Mingyu turns his attention back to the children, crouching before them with a friendly smile.

“Looks like you haven’t eaten in some time,” he observes as he stares at their skinny little bodies. “Did you get your shots from Yeonjun yet? Have you gotten treated?”

“Yep! That’s why we’re here otherwise Lady Y/N will get angry.”

Seeing their apprehensive expression upon that, Mingyu narrows his gaze as he tilts his head to the side. “Hm, looks like you’ve already made her angry though.”

They pout upon the reminder, head lowered with shame. “She scolded us,” Poya admits and Mingyu laughs aloud.

“Of course she did. She wouldn’t be Y/N if she doesn’t get angry that easily. She’s a real demon, you know. One time I—”

Dasom hits the back of his head without hesitation. “If boss hears you, I wouldn’t hesitate to volunteer to kill you myself.”

“Why’re you always so mean to me?” He cries.

“What are you planning to do with the kids now that you’ve rescued them?” You look up at the sound of Hoseok’s voice as he takes a seat beside you where you sit on the stairs of the building, eyes staring mindlessly at the empty streets before you. “You’re not thinking of sending them away to some orphanage, are you?”

You scoff a little at the question. “I’m not that cruel, Hoseok. Anyone who came into this business because of the orphanages is proof they don’t treat kids well.” He’s a living proof of it and he knows you understand that. “I’ve built an academy for them about two years ago, before the plan to rescue them took place today,” you say, eyes returning to stare at the street. “A few of my people outside the mafia will be in charge of it, making sure they get their education, their meals, and live in a safe environment.”

“For a moment there I almost thought you’d take them in yourself.”

“Ha, and bring them in deeper with what this world has to offer?” You laugh at the thought before your expression hardens. “They don’t deserve this kind of life, they’ve already been through enough.”

Almost everyone who’s joined the mafia has gone through the process at a young age, the rest of them an exception. After all, it’s always been a wiser decision to train their people when they’re still young and striving with ambition. It’s easier to instill loyalty into them, easier to break them.

Hoseok can still remember his time so vividly as if he was living it yesterday. He’ll never forget it.

When he looks your way, the sight of your hand touching the cheek where Jummy had hit you catches his attention.

“Looks like it does hurt after all,” he observes, a slight furrow in his brows. He remembers the slap well, how it echoed into the silence of the room, how you just simply let him do that. You provoked him on purpose, wanting a reaction out of him, and received a slap in return. You let him slap you.

“Well,” you say with a shrug, “whether I like to admit it or not, a slap will always hurt.”

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

“What?”

“You knew that provoking him would give you a slap in return,” he says. “Being as you had history with him, he’s probably laid his hands on you multiple times before.”

“Probably.”

Feeling a rush of ire running through his veins, Hoseok just can’t seem to read you. “Why do you say that so calmly? Shouldn’t you be more upset?”

You laugh a little at his question, not taking this seriously at all and it makes him mad. “Hoseok, if I got upset and let every little thing get to me, do you really think I’d be where I am now?”

“Still—”

“My goal wasn’t him in the first place, it was Ying. Yuna was the one who wanted to hurt him. She carries my emotions.”

He looks at you for a moment, thinking, wondering, and when you turn your head towards him upon his silence, you feel Hoseok’s hand placed against your cheek. The stinging sensation is still there, you can feel it, and when Hoseok touches your cheek, the coldness from the night breeze begins to warm.

You frown. “What are you doing?”

“Do you not feel anything anymore?” When you try to run away, Hoseok doesn’t let you and instead asks a question, softly, and something that had been hidden in your memories surfaces.

“Why aren’t you getting angry? He did something to you, Y/N, so don’t you feel anything?” Hoseok was so angry, so upset, and for a second you remember almost seeing his eyes watery with tears. He was feeling all these emotions for you, all for you.

“Hoseok…I..I-I’m okay, so—”

“You’re not okay and you know it,” he emphasizes, brows furrowed heavily as he runs his hands through his hair, frustrated. You watch him for some time, unable to say anything, not sure of what it is that you should say, so you stand there, silent, while he paces through the room back and forth, staring at the watch on his wrist as if trying to see when the rest of them would return.

“Hoseok…”

He lets out a heavy sigh and turns back to you, shoulders falling with defeat. “Were you scared?” He asks, softly. “You were scared, weren’t you?”

You don’t give him a reply but Hoseok knows. Hoseok always knows. And when he opens his arms out for you, you don’t hesitate to run into them, engulfing yourself in his warm embrace.

“I’m sorry,” he says against your hair. “I’m not upset at you, it’s just…I wish you’d get upset too.”

“But…what if you don’t like me because of that?”

“Why would I not like you because of that?” He asks, sincerely confused. “It’s human emotions, it’s natural. Just like I don’t like getting sad but you still welcome me either way.”

“It’s…similar to that?”

“Mmn.” He leans away just enough to see your face as he brings himself forward, forehead resting against yours. “I’ll love you despite everything so get mad, get upset, throw a tantrum, and I’ll still love you even then.”

“I do feel, Hoseok,” you tell him, hating the memories that have walked into your head. “I feel anger for all the people that have done me wrong, that’s why I’m going after them for revenge.”

“I feel like I should be proud but…that’s all you feel now, don’t you? Other than anger…there’s nothing but a void in your heart.”

You turn away from his hand, eyes stripping away from him to avoid those eyes that may become a weakness to you. “It’s better to not feel. In this way, I can go about my plans much more successfully. If I let my emotions get the best of me, I’ll just give myself weaknesses to shoulder and we can’t have that if I’m trying to get rid of all my enemies.”

“You’re doing risky business, Y/N.”

“From the minute we were associated with the mafia, everything became risky. In your case, at age nine.” You lost your only love and protection at age nine, Hoseok lost his innocence at age nine.

What a time to be alive.

“And you?”

You look over at him when he asks the question, a chuckle running through your throat. “I was born into this life, remember? Being a mafia heir isn’t an easy task, Hoseok. Whether you were someone who was loved dearly by your parents or not, this business will always serve dangerous for anyone that lives in it. Only ten years ago did I finally find the courage to embrace it. After all, you can’t ever escape the shadows once you step foot into it. That fantasy I lived in only proved to me that living a false life of freedom isn’t something that’s meant for me.”

That fantasy.

The false life of freedom.

You mean to say the three years you spent with them, don’t you? He knows it well and remembers how happy you were in spite of the fear and danger that surrounded your life. You had let them take care of you, trusted their words to never make you fall, to always be there to love and protect you. You gave them your trust and they destroyed that.

The person that you are now doesn’t strive to seek for that happiness anymore. It’s almost as if you’ve truly come to understand all it is that exists in this world of greed, power, and imprisonment. He lived like that for a long, long time, until he found his sanctuary.

You did too but it was forcefully taken away from you unlike him who still has the honor to keep it for his life.

When he looks at you, a burning ache shoots at his heart because he knows he could have saved you. He could have prevented so many things if he knew.

If only he knew.

The boys were too cowardly to let him in on the knowing while you grew afraid, forcing you to a point where you had to leave. You were afraid to destroy his relationship with them, afraid to hold him back. You left for yourself and you left for him.

“Don’t look like that.” Your voice brings him back from his daze and he looks up, blinking.

“Huh?”

“You’re blaming yourself again,” you say, head turning back to look at the streets before you. “It’ll do you no good to always put yourself in the blame. On the bright side, I’m much stronger than I was then.” The dagger in your hand spins effortlessly without falter, a skill that probably took years to master. He notices you’re more comfortable with the blade. Was it the first thing you touched when you decided to train?

It makes sense. After all, during your years of living with them, you were always afraid of going near a gun, the incident with the two bodyguards that died before you always made you tremble in your wake. So the question lies in how long it took you to find the courage to hold a gun.

“Who trained you?” He asks and you pause in your flickering. He wonders why. But before he can even speak up on it, your head turns his way again, a light smile on your face.

“A great master whom I also choose to go up against one day.”

Hoseok’s brows furrow. “It wasn’t your father?”

“Ah, father tried for a good time but then decided to hand me off to someone else. Someone stronger than him.” Someone who could break you down much easier than him. You laugh a little at that. “When it’s time to take him down, it’ll definitely be a fight. I might even die.”

“How can you joke around like that?”

“It’s not a joke, it’s the truth.” You say that but you’re still laughing, as if going up against danger is all that you seek, as if your life means nothing to you.

“So you don’t care if you die?” He asks, not liking the sound of that.

“So as long as I live, I’ll keep going after the people that have wronged me in the course of my lifetime.”

He wonders if those people include Bangtan; the other six. Namjoon. But something tells him in their case, you won’t be going after them with the intent to kill. After all, so far the people that have wronged you have all done something unforgivable — not that what Namjoon and the others did to you isn’t unforgivable but deep down, Hoseok still believes you to be someone who still holds kindness in her heart.

“I won’t go after Namjoon,” you assure as if reading his contemplating thoughts. “That’ll be an easy way to die, after all. And you might even hate me for that.”

So you care if he hates you?

“So you’re willing to die by anyone else’s hands?”

“Of course not. I’m just saying, if I die, I die. Who cares by who and who cares how.”

“But what about your Reapers?”

“What about them?”

“They hold a strong sense of loyalty to you,” he states. “At the split call of their names, they’re right next to you, heeding at your every word. Whatever you say is law. Whatever you do, they follow with no question. You don’t see that just anywhere, Y/N, not even in Bangtan. So don’t you think it’d affect them quite a bit were you to carelessly die by a nobody?”

You fall silent to that, hand continuing to play with the dagger at hand. The light reflects from it ever so often, whiffing sounds leaving as you flick about, spinning it, throwing it, catching it.

“I’ve trained them to not care about those sort of things,” you say after a moment. “They all know to prepare themselves if I were to die. Mingyu will take up the throne and things will go about as if I never existed in the first place.”

You let out an exaggerated yawn after speaking those careless words, arms stretching out before you. “Anyways, if I don’t wake up in ten minutes, call Mingyu for me, yeah?”

With that, you rest your head against the cold, hard railing of the stairs, eyes quick to close.

As Hoseok sits there watching you, he can only think of how wrong you are.

“Sir Mingyu, um…”

“Hey, what did I tell you about calling me a sir? Say hyung. Hyung. You’re making me feel old here, little man.”

“You are old.”

He glares up at Dasom’s retort. “Don’t you have somewhere better to be?”

She brings her hands up in defeat. “Ah, you’re right. Anywhere without you is a much better place to be.”

“That Somi,” he mutters under his breath as she walks away casually, knowing not to put up a fight otherwise she will literally try to obliterate him.

Learned that the hard way.

“Anyways,” he turns to the little boy who had walked away from his friends to approach him, “what was it wanted to say, Sunoo?”

Sunoo stands on his toes, eyes hesitant as he brings his hands forward, fiddling with them while his mouth opens and closes ever so often, as if what he wants to say is something he shouldn’t be saying but something he wants to say.

Mingyu crouches down to his level, a gentle hand placed on his shoulder. “Come on now, it’s not like you to be so hesitant. You want to ask me something, don’t you?”

“I…”

“Boss always says in all the seconds that pass through hesitation, it could be spent in being killed. That’s why you must never hesitate, no matter what it is. The seconds are always ticking after all. Time never slows down for anyone.”

Hearing those words, Sunoo is quick to straighten up as his head picks up, eyes a bit more strong than they were when he had initially approached the older man. Mingyu chuckles silently to himself, knowing anything that has to do with you, anyone will listen well.

You have everyone wrapped around your fingers, whether you know it or not.

“I..I want to become a Reaper, Mingyu hyung!”

For the first time in his life, Sunoo watches as the amused and easygoing expression on Mingyu’s face washes over in a second, replaced by something much colder and much more intimidating.

He physically shivers in fear.

“Sunoo…”

Sunoo’s back straightens even more upon the call of his name as he feels the hand on his shoulder tighten. An unexplainable fear washes over him and he feels pricks of needles pinning through all of his back, legs, and feet.

He can’t move.

“Never utter such words again, you got that?” He stands from his spot and turns around, quick to dismiss the conversation before it can continue any further but Sunoo stops him, not understanding.

“Why?” He asks, a tug on Mingyu’s blazer. “I want to protect Lady Y/N and the only way I can do that is—”

“If you really want to protect her, you’re better off staying away from us.”

“What…?” He stares at the older man in confusion, dreams and hopes ready to shatter but Sunoo holds on, not wanting to go down without a fight. You’ve protected him from so much and now that he wants to pay you back, he can’t do it in the way he knows how to?

Mingyu lets out a sigh when the kid doesn’t let go and turns back around, his expression still firm and grave, different from the man everyone knows him to be. “It’s a good thing you came to me first, otherwise boss would have killed you herself if she ever heard you say such words.”

“But—”

“Until you learn how to manipulate your emotions and hide them well, until you understand what it means to restrain yourself, to stand by and be a good bystander, only until then will you ever be worthy enough to serve along Y/N’s side.”

“A good…bystander?” What is that supposed to mean?

A kid will never understand, Mingyu knows, because kids who care for someone will always stand against the unjust and recklessly put their lives and everyone else’s lives in danger just for that person. Whether it’s their mother, their father, a friend, a lover, whoever it may be, they will not hesitate to scream and shout, begging and pleading, standing in the way of the unjust, stepping up and defending that one person.

He will be killed in an instant if he doesn’t understand control, if he doesn’t understand his role, and it will break him in more than one way.

“When you learn how to play that role, and know how to play it well, only then will I deem you worthy enough to stay by boss’s side.”

“Yo idiot, boss fell asleep on the stairs.”

Upon hearing Dasom come back with a finger pointed towards the outside, Mingyu looks up, face returning to his usual easygoing expression as he takes a stand.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going. Honestly, why can’t she ever sleep during appropriate times and at appropriate places?”

While Mingyu complains under his breath as he’s walking away, Sunoo remains standing still in the place Mingyu left him, eyes shaking with a waver, his heart aching when he realizes he’s just gotten rejected.

He’s not worthy enough to protect you, to even stay by your side. He’s not worthy enough.

And whatever Mingyu meant, if he never figures that out, if he never learns how to be a good bystander, he will never be worthy enough to ever even approach you.

“Hey kid.” He slowly turns at Dasom’s call, head still in the clouds, hurt by what Mingyu had told him. Dasom lets out a heavy sigh as she pats his head. “The idiot’s right. The only way you can protect boss now is by staying away. She’ll never let you serve her otherwise.”

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