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usetheeauthor · 2 years

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I Know What You Did Last Weekend 18+ (Smut)

Battinson!Sub!Bruce Wayne x Kravitz!Dom!Selina Kyle x Switch!Curvy!Villain!Fem!Reader

A/N: This was long overdue. I think both Zoe and Robert are absolutely hot so I had to do it to ‘em! The picture is not meant to represent the reader’s appearance. This switches between POVs. It’s first person for your POV in the beginning while Selina’s and Bruce’s are in third/second towards the ending. Also, this is really filthy and Selina’s def top 😅 Enjoy!

Word Count: 5.1k+

Summary: Bruce goes undercover at the popular nightclub, “Club Succubus”, in search of a serial killer who murders very powerful men. Selina wants vengeance. She’s looking for the woman who killed her father when it should’ve been her. Little did they know, you’d be a lot tougher to resist.

Warnings: use of Y/N, violence, murder, blood kink, threesome, oral sex (m & f receiving), DUB CON, dom/sub dynamics, p in v penetration, unprotected sex (pls be safe), cum eating, girl on girl, spanking, slight mommy kink, slight ass worship (reader’s got a wagon), use of oil, face sitting, use of handcuffs, hair pulling, dirty talk, slight themes of misandry and misogyny, implied body shaming

Y/N’s POV

The smell of sex wafting through the air. That was the way I liked it. I craved an atmosphere of full debauchery and zero inhibitions. Club Succubus was my creation. Here…I did whatever the fuck I want. No rules, no worries, no bullshit. Hell, I even recognized some cops frequenting this place of sin.

I look over at the entrance recognizing the face of a man whom I’ve despised for so long. Carmine Falcone. The dirty bastard. He’s taken business deals from me for as long as I can remember. The crime world was dominated by men and no one took a woman getting her foot through the door seriously. Slowly but surely, I’ve found my footing in this city along with loyal members who help carry out my plans for Gotham. But him. He was always an obstacle that kept me from being fully feared by everyone. That will come to an end. There’s no place for a man like him in this city. I’d be doing everyone a favor getting rid of him.

I’ve flirted with him times before. It wasn’t lost on me that he’d dismissed me because I was a curvier girl. Yet, here he was in my nightclub specifically looking for me.

His eyes land on mine as I sat in VIP section. I smirk. He makes his way over to me, eyes intense with lust.

“Baby, you’re looking ravishing.” He says, breathlessly raking up and down your figure.

“Mr. Falcone,” You smiled before standing up from your purple, tufted throne chair. You sauntered down the short steps towards him. “You know, I wasn’t sure you’d come. After all, I was convinced that you were way too vanilla. Couldn’t handle a body like mine.” You ran your hand over his shirt and see his Adam’s Apple bobbing.

“It’s not like that, baby,” He bites his lip, hypnotized by your hands roaming his body. “Just…you intimidate me.”

“Why?” You pout, keeping up the innocent ploy.

“Well, I have all the things you want. Power, the fear of the people, loyal subjects at the palm of your hands. You must be mad at me, babe,” He grips your ass, pulling you closer to him. “Can’t help how good I am? The ladies love an alpha.”

“All those things are true. Especially the part about me being mad. I’m so mad, in fact,” You lean into his ear. “I’d like to punish you.”

Taking his hand, I led him to a private room in the back. I could practically taste the power pouring into me. I was soon going to be queen of Gotham.

When we arrived to the room, I immediately threw him onto the bed earning a surprised chuckle from the trashy douchebag.

“Whoa, honey, I make like it rough but I’m still fragile.” He says looking up at me. I pull out some handcuffs from the drawer nearby, swaying my hips side to side as I walked over to him. I grab his wrists, putting them above his head and locking them to them into place.

I shove a hand down his pocket. “I don’t have any cash on me if that’s what your looking for. Didn’t know this ‘business’ exchange required any compensation.” He smirks.

“No, babe, I’m looking for this,” I show him the magnum. “Gotta have protection, right?” I yank his pants and underwear down his ankles before rolling the condom over his unimpressively average length. I climb over him, sliding down on his length. “Besides, I’ll get all the compensation I need right here.” I whispered, darkly.

I began riding the crime lord, trying to keep myself from rollin my eyes at his insufferable moans. While his mind was occupied by the pleasure, I slowly pull out a dagger from my thigh holster. I knew it’d only be minutes until this was over. Taking my chance, I stab him in the chest as he reached his climax.

I lean over him. “I told you I’d get my compensation.”

His eyes were wide, coughing up blood as he began processing the image of the knife in his chest. “You won’t get away with this. Do you know who I am? I have connections. Fucking cops work under me. You’ll be on a lot of powerful people’s lists. You’ll be dead before you could even step out the door.”

“You’ve underestimated me, Mr. Falcone. Your men, the ones that you brought to protect you, they belong to me now. Those cops you have working for you, mine. Everything is mine now. The power, the fear, the people all mine!” I shout as I continued to stab him over and over. The blood gushing and spraying all over the bed and room. I laugh maniacally, finally reaching my climax from the high of finally winning.

When I’ve had my fill I looked down at my finished product, the crime lord looking barely recognizable. I hop off of him, walking over to the mirror. I smile at my reflection. My tight white dress and hair covered in blood. I resembled Carrie and I absolutely loved the look. This was the look of a new boss.

~~~~

Selina’s POV

“Authorities are saying that the body of Carmine Falcone was found his home on the evening of Saturday. His body was discovered by a dancer and lover who works at his nightclub. It is shocking to see a man like him go down so brutally to say the least but police are doing their best to search for the person or persons responsible. Until then—” Selina switches off the television set.

Her emotions were a mix bag. There was pity, sadness, joy, anger…it was all there. He was her biological father after all. Yet, he was a disgusting piece of shit that left her mother for dead. He was responsible for the death of her former lover, Annika. She wanted to be the one to kill him. Whoever did it stripped her from the right. She was going to find them and kill them. In her twisted form of justice, it would be an indirect way of getting back at her father.

She just needed to know who could have had the balls to carry it out?

~~~~

Bruce’s POV

*Inner monologue*

Y/L/N, Y/F/N. To those on the outside, you were just what they’d call a “girl boss”. An admirable woman with a business mindset. Every man’s dream. But I know women like you. You have a fiery spirit. In the wrong hands, however, that spirit can be deadly.

*end of monologue*

Bruce looked at your file name. You were the perfect match. In your younger days, You had time in and out of the criminal justice system for crimes against men specifically those in power. Now in your late 20s, they’d say you’d had a clean slate every since then. Bruce knew better. While law enforcement turned and looked away at certain things, Bruce took a magnifying glass inspecting the issues further. It’s what made him the best detective in all of Gotham. It’s what made the people believe in Batman.

Club Succubus. That’s the nightclub you owned. You couldn’t have gotten this powerful unless you had to stomp on a lot of toes including your biggest competitor. Bruce figured that instead of going as The Batman, he’d go as himself. That way he’d bait himself as your target. You went after men with money well here he was. Bruce Wayne, playboy billionaire, powerful, influential. It was just what you were looking for as your next victim.

~~~

Y/N’s POV

Somehow being at the top just wasn’t enough, I wanted more. I wanted to be bigger. Sure, business was booming and I’ve been running the town sweeping it with fear. Sure, the people were beginning to know my name. But I wanted a challenge.

As if God heard my prayers, in walks Bruce fucking Wayne! Walking into my club?! I didn’t take him for a guy interested in scenes like this. By the look on his face, this was definitely something he’s not into. Maybe he was looking for someone who could teach him the ropes.

I haven’t done much research on the guy so I don’t exactly have him on the list of men I’d like to kill (i call it the MiLK list) but he’s got the money. Who knows if I rock his world enough, I could get him to invest some of his money into my club.

I make my move. I stalk towards him like a predator to its prey. His eyes were on mine and if i’d blinked I would’ve missed the millisecond of lust in them. I reach the man in all black. He was quite gorgeous up close. Electric blue eyes, pink lips, a jawline that was evidence of God’s favor of him. It was the first time anyone had taken my breath away. I quickly recover.

“You’re Bruce Wayne. You’re hardly ever in the public eye. What brings you to a place like this? Looking for some fun?” I tease.

“Business, actually.”

“Really?” I tried burying my excitement as much as I could. Didn’t want to look eager. However, this could be my huge break.

He nods. “Mind if we could go somewhere more quiet to discuss?”

“Y-yes,”I stuttered out, too excited for your mouth to speak. “Right this way.” Just I took him by the arm to lead, a woman in a tight red stops you in your tracks.

“Omg! Have we met before?” She flashes a pearly, white smile at you.

She was gorgeous, soft golden brown skin shimmered under the neon lights. Her lips were red and full. Her eyes carried a look that was sultry yet dangerous. “Not likely. I would’ve remembered a girl like you.”

“My name is Selina. Selina Kyle.” She looks between me and Bruce. “I’d hate to interrupt. I won’t keep you long but I would love if we could go somewhere quiet. Maybe we can catch up.”

I was currently between two very sexy people. This just might work in my favor.

“Sure, we can all go.” I lift my finger in a “come hither” motion. “Follow me.” I lead them down the pink lit hallways. The music and thumping gradually decreasing in sound.

When we’d finally arrived to the room, the moment I’d shut the door. Selina presses me up against it, a knife to my throat. “I know you sent your men after Carmine.”

I laugh. “I didn’t send anyone after Carmine. I killed him myself, sweetie.”

Selina looks at me in shock.

————

Bruce’s POV

Bruce had it all figured out. He’d go to the nightclub in Bruce Wayne persona, knowing you’d bite because you went after rich, powerful men. He’d gather the evidence he’d get from your private room opening the case for the DEA to finally care.

His plan now out the window the moment Selina stepped in. She hadn’t recognized him. Only knowing him as The Batman. Of course she’d do something as reckless as this.

“She really is stubborn.” Bruce thought, gritting his teeth.

Selina continues, the knife still pressed against your neck. “How’d you kill him?”

“I stabbed him a bunch of time with his shrimp dick still inside me. Then I made my men put his body back in his office like it was a regular Sunday. Couldn’t have him rotting in my club. For some big boss guy who fucks anything that moves, he sure sucks at fucking. Didn’t make me cum once. I had to handle myself all on my lonesome,” You say in a teasing, pouty voice. “I think maybe you can change that.”

She presses the blade deeper into the skin, on the verge of breaking skin. “Why’d you do it?”

“Selina, let’s put away the knife. You don’t have to do this.” Bruce speaks up, walking over to the catty women.

Selina ignores him, her eyes still staring intensely at you. You still bore a smirk on your face.

“What’s so fucking funny?” She hisses.

“Are you one of his whores or something? I did you a favor getting rid of him. He was a piece of shit and you know it.”

“I-I was…his daughter.” She fidgets nervously.

“Oh shit,” You scoffed. “You mean, that fucker was your dad. No wonder you want to kill me. You’re avenging father dearest.”

“That’s where your wrong, kitten,” You can feel your pussy begin to throb at the raspy, sensual way she said it. “I wanted to kill him, too. He killed someone I loved. I wanted to do it. I couldn’t. The time wasn’t right. Then, you come in and you take what could’ve been my peace. The only way I can get closure now is if I kill you.”

Selina cuts a small line on your neck. You let out a pained moan that sounded as if you enjoyed it. You can feel that the cut had drawn some blood.

“Selina, it’s not worth it. You’d just be getting yourself in trouble. Then what will this all be for. Avenging the ones you love doesn’t mean having to kill those who’ve wronged you.” Bruce pleads.

This frustrates Selina. She was tired of people telling her what to feel; to do. She turns on her heels pointing the knife in his direction. “I am tired of people—-men… telling me ‘no’. I don’t think I’d want to hear anything more from you.” She points the knife at you. “You! You’ve got handcuffs somewhere around here, don’t you? Get them and cuff him.”

You were about to head over to the draw when she pulls you by the end of your hair. “Actually, you show me what drawer to get them. Don’t want you trying to reach for your handgun of anything.” She winks before pushing away at your head.

“It’s in the first drawer near the bed.” You were honestly fearful for your life. You somehow even felt bad for Bruce who’d only been an innocent bystander.

Selina reaches for the handcuffs also finding the handgun you stored there. “Good thing I went for it myself.” She laughs. Throwing the cuffs for you to catch, she aims the handgun at you.

“Cuff him.”

“What are you doing?” Bruce growls, fuming at this insanity.

She turns the gun to him. “I said I don’t want to hear you.”

Bruce complies understanding he needs to in order to make sure no one gets hurt. He puts his hands out in the front of him.

“Oh no, baby, I want them cuffed to the back. Suit jacket and shirt off, by the way.” Selina demands.

He shakes his head, his jaw clenching before doing what was commanded of him. He pulls off his jacket and shirt revealing his washboard abs. You clipped the cuffs around his wrists. Despite your fear, you were quite turned on. You could feel your panties drench at the situation; Bruce’s half nakedness not helping your state.

“Sit him on that chair.” She flicks the gun over to the royal purple accent chair.

You lead him to his seat. He lowers, looking up between the women. A tent suddenly forming in his slacks.

Selina pushes down at the top of your head. “Down, kitty.”

You obey, falling to your knees in front of Bruce and both your eyes met one another’s.

“I’m sure you know what I want you to do. After all, you like you’ve gone through this plenty of times. So go on.”

“I-I d-dont know what you want.” You stutter out.

“Awww, what happened to the ruthless bitch that had no problem killing my dad? Figure it out. You’re not on your knees to polish his shoes.” She squats to your level, pressing the barrel against your temple.

Bruce looks at you apologetically, only to find that you were completely enjoying this. He’s now convinced that he’s in a room with crazy people.

You bring your hands shakily up to his slacks, unbuttoning and unzipping them. You lower them just enough for you to have access to him boxers. His breath hitches when he feels your fingertips against his bare skin. Bruce would be lying if he said he wasn’t turned on by all of this. He blames the women for his corruption. He must not be thinking clearly. All he had to do was focus and— his thoughts are interrupted when he feels your hands wrap around his painfully hard member. He bites his lip to keep himself from whimpering. He wasn’t very experienced in the sex department only having had 2 partners because he’s always so busy. Any form of touch was enough to have him panting.

“Look at that fat cock, kitten. He’s so hard,” Selina licks her lips. “Every inch of that will be going down your throat soon. Wanna see you gag on it like a pornstar. Give me a show.” She sits at the edge of the king-sized bed, looking at our direction.

You wouldn’t hesitate any longer. You wanted to taste him. To make him see stars. You make no haste, swirling your tongue around the tip and giving it a fervent suck.

Bruce lets out a shaky moan, his head thrown back against the chair. Selina immediately stands up, strutting over to him, taking him by the hair and forcing him to look down between his legs; at you.

“No. You watch. She’s gonna give a performance of a lifetime so have some decency.”

You smile up at her before turning your attention back to his. Never had you worship a cock the way you would to his. You bring your mouth all the way down his length, letting him hit the back of your throat.

He whines. You can see his restraint to keep quiet. To keep himself from enjoying. You were going to break him. You bob up and down on his length, the suction noises filling the room. You look at him noticing the way his eyes flicked between looking into your face and staring at the way your ample ass swayed side to side in delight.

“Look how happy you made, kitty,” Selina moans, dropping to her knees next to you and tossing the gun a close distance away from her. “I think I’ll have a taste, too.”

The moment Bruce heard that, he knew he’d be a goner. You pull your mouth away, a line of saliva connecting your lips to the tip of his dick. Selina cups your face and plants an intimate kiss on your lips. Your tongues massaging each others as she attempts to taste him indirectly through you.

She breaks the kiss. “I think I wanna taste more.” She brings her mouth to his length and licks. You put your mouth back on him as well. Both of your tongues playing with the tip, every now and then your tongues would meet once again. You rubbed your thighs together, hoping to get some friction when you heard him finally begin to moan and tug at his restraints.

“Oh, he likes it,” Selina exclaims. “Don’t you, you little slut?”

He nods, breathing hard.

“It’s rude to nod. Tell us how much you appreciate us sucking your cock.”

“Thank you.” He says through a strained tone.

“For what?”

“For sucking my cock.”

“He’s such a good boy. Isn’t he, kitten?”

“Yes, he is. Maybe we could reward him.” You purr.

The two of you shoot each other a playful look before Selina bobbed her mouth on the thick, curved length while you licked and fondled at the balls. These women were trying to kill him. He was sure of it. Because how could any man survive this kind of bliss. It was all too much.

He’d forgot all restraint and soon he was moaning like a pathetic mess of a man. “Oh god. Please I c-can’t. Too much.”

There was no letting up. You’d both wanted to see him crumbles. His stoic presence soon a shadow of itself. You can feel his testicles begin to tighten. Selina’s mouth off him, jacking him off and staring at him determined. You also remove your mouth to look up at him, your hands rolling and squeezing his balls.

“F-fuck. M-mommy,” He whines pathetically. “Please.”

You and Selina look at each other and smiling deviously. “Ohhh, he’s looking for mommies. Someone missing their mommy? Don’t worry, Brucey. We’ll take real good care of you.” You say, sucking and running my tongue on his tip while Selina continue to jack his length. His body began to tense and you both knew you’d be rewarded with his cum soon.

“Cum for us, pretty boy. We wanna swallow it all for you.” Selina encourages. He lets out a loud drawn out groan, ropes of cum spurt from his dick. Selina and you indulge, licking frantically to make sure no a drop is missed. He shudders against you both, forced to take overload of pleasure. When you were sure you’d gotten everything, you both make your way up to kiss and bite at his neck. You’d taken the key for the handcuff finally freeing him. Bruce takes this opportunity to place a kiss on Selina’s lips then kissed yours, then you and Selina once again. Each deep kiss filled with lots of tongue and saliva.

Selina pulls down your lacy panties and you follow suit removing hers, groping each other’s breasts. The two of you straddle each of Bruce’s thigh, grinding your cores against his grey slacks. He grabs a handful your ass, the other hand pulling down Selina’s top, tweaking at her hardened peaks. All three of you moaning into the atmosphere. You rub two fingers on Selina’s clit as she rode his thigh.

“Oh, fuck right there.” She moans, grinding faster against him. You could tell that his pants would be soak in your arousals but he didn’t seem to care. He just watch intently, moaning at the sight of two beautiful women who were getting off to his thigh alone. You thanked the fact that Bruce’s thigh had been strong enough to carry your weight especially with how forceful your thrusts were. It seemed like he had a thing for thicker girl making sure his hands would feel every part of you.

Selina stops her movements, standing up from his thigh. Both you and Bruce looking at her. “I’m thinking we should move this to the bed. I wanna try some things,” She points at the mattress in front of her. “Y/N, I want you on all fours. Brucey, you’re going to fuck her nice and hard for me. Be as brutal as you like for all I care.”

You obey. It didn’t matter to you that you’d probably be killed or in jail after this. You were going to get what you’ve been craving the moment you’d set eyes on these two. You remove whatever’s left of your clothes before crawling on your hands and knees on the bed.

You bend over enough so that your ass in the air was the main focal point. Selina takes a bottle of oil, lathering your bottom and give you a hard smack. You moan at the contact.

Bruce removes his clothes, on his knees behind you his hard length dangling between thighs like a third leg. “I don’t know if I could do this.” He says, almost innocently.

“All ya gotta do is stick your dick in her. Not rocket science, baby.” She teases, yanking her dress over her head and joining you both on the bed.

He sighs. “No, I mean, this isn’t right. She’s a criminal. We’ve got to turn her in.”

Selina attempts to speak up again, but it was your turn to make your case. You were not going anywhere. Not until you’re ruined by them. “Please fuck me, Brucey,” You groan. You roll your hips back, feeling his dick rubbing between your ass cheeks. “I know I’m bad but all I ask is that you punish me. Take me how you want me. Wreck me from inside with your cock.”

Selina smirks, glancing at Bruce who’s breathing had gotten heavy. “Hear that, sweet boy. She wants it real bad. You can’t be cruel enough to leave her hangin’.”

His large hands pull you rough against him. You squeak at his sudden ferocity, a pool of wetness seeping out of your core. He smacks the heavy manhood against your globes, guiding it to your quiver core. You’d still been sensitive there so when he taps himself at your entrance, you shiver in delight. He prods his tip at the tight hole, letting your folds swallow him in with little effort from him. You both groan simultaneously.

“Fuck, that’s so hot.” Selina rubs herself, watching where the two of you met.

Bruce strokes shallowly into your pussy. The light sticky, wet noises filling the silence. You whine needing him to fuck you long and deep. You attempt to fuck back into him, he holds you still by your hips, pulling even more of his length out of you so that only the tip rests.

“Shit, please, I need it.” You sob. You’re practically crying real tears.

Selina pulls his cock from your core. Wrapping her plump lips around the bulbous head. She sucks him deep into her mouth, swishing her tongue around. “She tastes so good,” She pulls off him, easing him back into your cunt. Going behind him, she whispers in his ear. “Go on, baby boy. Fuck her. Make her cum hard.”

As if he’s a robot waiting on the commands of his master, he immediately drive into you. He bottoms out and you swear that he’s made a mess of your guts. He pummels into you, fucking you into the mattress. Your cries bouncing off the walls.

“Fuck, fuck, holy shit.” You were unintelligible. All you could do is curse or say things that you really couldn’t understand. Bruce ramming into you the way a beast ruts into its mate.

Selina could feel herself dripping with anticipation. She couldn’t wait to take his cock next but first she’s like to focus her attention all on you. Bringing your face up from the mattress, your tongues meet in a passionate kiss. Bruce takes your arms crossing them behind your back, pinning them down with one hand. Now your body’s sandwiched between Bruce powerfully thrusting into you and Selina who’d kiss you in a way that made your toes curled.

She snakes a hand down to rub your sensitive nub. You gasp, grinding into her hand. When you moved forward, you’d feel her aggressively flicking at it and when you’d moved back, his cock would nudge the deepest parts of you. It was an overload of pleasure you’d never experienced.

“Fuck me now,” Selina says, lying on her back. Bruce pulls out of you, using your juices to slide in with ease into her. She moans, licking her lips. “Oh my god, baby. You’re so big. You’re splitting me in two. I can see why my little kitten over there was screaming for her life.”

Bruce leverages himself up with his hands, angling his hips the right way to hit into her core from the side. She throws her head back and bites her lip feeling the thrusts getting more desperate. You squeezed your thighs together, wanting to get rid of the ache. She opens her eyes and notices. “Aww, kitten, I didn’t forget about you. Come here and ride my face.”

Your eyes light up. You hover your slick coated core over her face turned so that you were in the 69 position and facing Bruce. Selina gets to work, licking and sucking at your pussy the way she did when she kissed you. You ground against her face, looking at Bruce with half-lidded eyes. You grip him by the neck and he groans. You pull him forward for a kiss, mimicking the movements of Selina’s tongue but in his mouth. His thrusts causing you to bounce along with them.

He plucks at your hardened nipple then lowers his lips to them sucking and twisting each bud. Both of their tongues caressing your body. You felt so lucky. Maybe Selina has already killed you and you’d gone to heaven. Or a fun ass hell.

“Lick that sweet pussy.” Bruce growls.

He pushes your head down so that you were in between Selina’s legs watching his cock moving in and out of it. Her juices messy all over his cock and her inner thighs. You stick your tongue out, flicking between her clit and tasting his length sloshing around inside her.

“Oh, fuck! You both are so fucking good. So perfect.” Selina cries out, sticking a finger in you and pumping. You fuck back into her fingers. With one hand still on the back of your head, the other smacks your ass.

The room filled with each other your moans and whines. You were sure anyone who’d accidentally walk in would blush but most likely stay for the show. It was sinful, filthy, it was so fucking hot!

“I’m gonna cum.” Bruce groans.

“Me too.” Selina moans, curling her finger and touching the soft button deep in you.

“Oh my god.” You can feel the coil building up more and more. The pressure almost scaring you at how much it was building. Bruce pulls out of Selina shoving himself into your mouth and bobbing your head up and down. You swallow and suck around him. The same time he cums down your throat is the same time Selina decides to give you the hardest orgasm of your fucking life. You scream into the air, frantically rubbing at her flowery bud.

She quakes and shivers underneath you. You lick at her core until she eventually clamps her thighs around your head from other stimulation. “Holy shit.” She laughs, her head feeling light from the shattering of her world.

You roll off of her and the three of you laid on your back, staring up at the ceiling and breathing heavily. You can taste the remnants of them on your tongue; a reminder of your time with them.

You propped yourself up on your elbows. “So I’m guessing you’ll be turning me in to the authorities. It’s fine, though. I got all I needed anyway.”

“No, I think I’ll keep you, kitten. You’ll be my little play toy. What do ya think, Brucey? Should we keep her?” She bats her eyes at the blissed out man.

He groans. “Is that really appropriate?”

“Yes.” Selina smiles at you and you smile back.

You turn over to the brooding sex symbol. “I can make it worth your while, Brucey,” You kiss and suck at his neck. “I promise you I won’t be bad. I’ll be so good for you.”

Selina joins in, attacking at the other side of his neck. Bruce isn’t sure if he believes either of the women, but with their hands running ever so softly over his body, he can’t say he wouldn’t try.

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lizmindpalace · 2 years

Text

Blood and Crime

Summary: A new and unusual murderer will make Sherlock change in ways he would have never expected.

Warnings: In this work there will be eventual explicit content, graphic depictions of violence, there may be a lot of triggers such as anxiety, depression, paranoid, mental illness, murder, suicidal tendencies, horror, very toxic relationships, manipulation, sexual innuendoes, gore, lots of blood, nightmares, fantasy and vampires.

You can find it also on AO3.

Chapter 8- Reality

Days went by, and Sherlock was not able to tell what had happened to that inmate in the mental clinic, and for obvious reasons, neither could anyone else. And he had resigned. The press and therefore the crowds had decided to think that the incident had been due to personal matters, probably some kind of bloody revenge, in any case a police car kept the hospital under surveillance the twenty-four hours of the day. However, it was not just because of that single murdered but because of the ones that followed, all under the same circumstances; patients who were new to the place, barely adapting to their new realities, they have been there for just a couple of weeks, and they had suffered the same unfathomable fate.

Those days criminals had been quiet, as if they were on holiday and there was no case that could draw the detective's attention, beside those that lacked from a logical explanation and were actually taken from the nightmare from someone with an unhinged condition. This, according to his doctor, was affecting his health, since over the last days, he was paler than he usually was and was also thinner, the quiet periods were also back, and he could swear that he was uselessly trying to get rid of his agony. The doctor decided it was time to supply his friend vitamins, something that could allow him to recover his energy, and if the problem persisted, then perhaps, he would force him to get a blood test in the lab, so he could be sure everything was going on as it was supposed within his body.

Sherlock was playing with the pill in his long and thin fingers, he let it drop into his mouth just to take it out again, he moved it with his sharp white teeth, whilst John kept grudgingly looking at him and kept asking him to stop behaving like a little kid and swallow the damn pill once and for all. After a chuckle he gave in and did as he was told, a weight left John's shoulders and went to sleep after wishing a pleasant night to the other man.

Whereas, Sherlock stayed in the living room, and strolled around from one spot to another on his bare feet, he was anxious, he needed something, but he didn't know what. The darker the night became, the more alienated he felt, gloominess brought him courage, a sort he had never got to know, a thunderbolt ran through his chest, he was almost incapable of breathing. An idea crossed his mind, if it was any other day, he would have been unconscious already, but those crimes in the hospital wouldn't let him sleep no matter how apathetic he tried to act. The idea whispered into his ear, he knew he had to do it, there was no choice in the matter, it was time, his limbs trembled, a spark ran through his whole body, the single picture in his mind made the ecstasy hard to manage, the dopamine in his brain was killing him. It was decided. He walked towards the destination at a slow but certain pace, until he was embraced by the shadows of the night.

***

"Miss Thomas, welcome, come in. What are you here for?" John smiled, trying to hide his head ache and the pain in his body, he left the girl go in.

"Just call me Anneliese, John". He nodded. "I've been feeling uneasy. I listen to that voice again, almost the same thing from last time, and I wonder if my mind is suffering from the same illness than those deaths. And I have seen him..."

"Those deaths? Oh, you mean those in the mental clinic..."

"Yes, to the patients that had just arrived at the place some days ago for symptoms that sound very much like mine, a shadow that whispers things into their ears and then over a couple of days they end up dead in the most terrible of ways. It is very strange, and I'm very impressed".

Sherlock wrapped in a bedsheet, probably with no more clothes than those, as if it was a shroud since there was barely a difference between the hues of his skin and the ones from the fabric, sat before them and smiled widely.

"Sherlock, please, we have a guest".

"Yes, I can see it. But I suggest that if she'll be staying here, she should get used to life at Baker Street, don't you think?"

The dark eyes of the woman widened.

"That's for the better, that way she'll feel safe under out shelter. John will go to your flat, install some cameras and spend the night there in case there is someone after you, all while I keep you safe here and I keep investigating".

John looked at him, totally shocked, was it Sherlock Holmes, the one who was suggesting a woman to stay at his house aiming to protect her?

"Alright" John thought it was a good idea after all, even though he had some kind of suspicion, he though the detective had some kind of hidden intention, maybe he wanted to use her as a bait, that worried him. But even if he tried, he would not be able to stand against Sherlock's desires, lately he lived for it, he would grant whatever strange wish he had.

"I do not want to bother you".

"You're not bothering us, this will help us to find the patter between all the cases, including you, and if he has been allowing others to see him, it's likely he will show up again soon. I heard you said you had seen him. Describe him".

"I could not see him with a lot of detail, but while it was raining outside and the street was empty, he, who was wrapped with dark clothes, was standing on the pavement and looking toward my window.

"What time was it?"

"Around one in the morning"

"You always go to bed at eleven, what were you doing awake at that time?"

"I was scared, I could not sleep, and I decided to spy through the window".

Some minutes later, when Sherlock decided that the information the woman had provided was useless, the detective finally gave in and got dressed, once John announced that he was leaving and threatened to come home late. Sherlock took advantage of it and visited Molly Hooper's mortuary, just after he gave indications to the stranger to stay there for the night.

Regardless the fact he was used to that fetid environment, this time, he found it way more sickening and icy, although it was probably the situation and rather than the place. He greeted the woman with a smile and until now he noticed how that woman would always do as he told and he only needed to address a few words to her, even if those words lacked kindness, he found something joyful in that knowledge even if he had always known it deep down, this time he could feel his power over her in his hands.

"Anything new?" the gruff voice wondered, it had been sharper than the woman behind the slab would have liked, while the man was toying with an oddment of what could have been a bone that was in his coat's pocket, he knew it was there, but he was not aware of it, as he was not of many other things happening around lately.

"Nothing, no poisson or another cause for these deaths, just..just".

"Yes?" Sherlock was growing impatiet due to the stuttering of the woman, always so insecure and masochist.

"All of them lack a tooth. As if the murderer signed his job, but it looks as if there was no murderer, it's the same tooth, besides, all of this is just disgusting, don't you think?"

"Says the woman who works at the mortuary". Sherlock smiled ironically. "It is detestable but don't worry, Molly, I'm taking care of it, and that should be enough for you, don't you think?"

Sherlock took a blonde strand of the woman's hair and tucked it behind her ear, maybe she was right and collecting teeth was too sick, he took his hand to his coat's pocket and left the place, he was reflecting on the situation, his fingers barely touched again a little bump, something that felt like a tooth.

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sukirichi · 3 years

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home from war | sukuna x reader

Home from War | sukuna x reader

featuring: sukuna x reader (historical au) with small moments of megumi x reader

warnings: very mild suggestive content, mentions of manslaughter and slight yandere tendencies + a toxic sukuna + angst + not proofread :D

part two!

How does one soothe their lover who’s come from war?

You ponder about this carefully, eyes dark as you let your gaze travel from the opening door. Sukuna comes in, bare chest littered with cuts caked in mud, blood, and dirt, and you see the way the grip around his katana falters just a little bit. The room is dark – it is late at night, after all, and you had stirred awake in your accidental slumber from waiting too long for him to return home – but you see him under the darkness clearly. Way too clearly.

Those markings on his face you so dearly love don’t even seem threatening. You seriously question your sanity at this point because he is the Ryomen Sukuna; King of Curses. It’s no secret that he does as he pleases, taking someone’s life as if it was second nature to him, claiming territories, wealth, and even people as if they were his own.

You should be scared, and in a way, you are.

But not in that way.

You’re scared because his shoulders slump, those once burning red eyes fluttering close as he drops to his knees on the floor. Without wasting another second, you leap off the bed, your arms wrapping around his figure. He reeks of death, and before you know it, you wash his exhaustion away by peppering his face with the pads of your lips.

Sukuna hums, pulling you closer to him until there is no space between skin, his neck nuzzling in your face. “I’m home,” his lips brush the bare skin of your neck, his breath warm and ticklish. “I made it home to you, my love. Safely like you asked.”

Your heart clenches at his words. Immediately, you bite down your tongue and blink back the tears that threaten to fall. Safely? You want to snap back, your nails almost raking down his back. This is hardly considered “safely” when his knees wobble as you guide him inside the bath, nearly unable to keep his eyes open as you wipe away his cuts and the other remnants of war present on his body.

“I’m sorry,” his voice echoes in the confined walls. You don’t even realize the tears had fallen until his rough, calloused hands brush a tear away. He tilts your chin upwards to look him in the eye, lips trembling when those devilish eyes soften – reserved for you and only for you – and Sukuna sighs through his nose. “I wish I could stop the war, but — ”

“It’s not possible,” you finish for him, forcing a smile to help ease his worries. At this point, you’re conflicted between wanting to scold him to not leave the temple anymore and just stay with you, but you also know why Sukuna doesn’t do that.

It’s because he wants to keep you safe. As long as you were around, Sukuna would go the moon and back just to keep coming back home to you. Perhaps that was the most painful part – the fact that you knew he wouldn’t have done this if he hadn’t met you. Sukuna was the fearsome King of Curses, powerful and undefeated even after a thousand years, but he wasn’t omnipotent. Hundreds of jujutsu sorcerers have lost their lives trying to defeat them, and it took about a hundred more deaths before they backed off at the realization he couldn’t be defeated or exorcised.

Until you came.

You were Sukuna’s weakness, the chink in his armour, his Achilles heel.

The moment it was known that Sukuna kept a lover, they just kept coming. The war begun. Soon enough, your days of rolling around in bed with him, trapped under his arms and weekends spent in whines of each other’s names disappeared.

Sukuna has a temple to defend. A lover to protect. A woman to cherish. A soul to treasure.

It was all because of you, and you know better than anyone else that he was tired. But he’d never tell you that. He would still scoop you in his arms; pull you closer by the hip so he could lay his ears on your chest, eventually falling asleep with the sensation of your fingers massaging his scalp while you hum to soothe him. The sound of your heartbeat has Sukuna exhaling rhythmically minutes later.

The notorious King of Curses, bundled up in the arms of his lover, completely relaxes in the privacy of his shared bedroom with the woman he loves most. It was as if the war didn’t happen at all. He sleeps with a small smile on his face, sleepily mumbling your name and reaching up to kiss your smooth skin every now and then.

It was perfect. It was heaven.

But that wasn’t you.

Because you are not her; you are not even human. You listen to all this on the other side of the temple. If you were anyone else, someone like her, then Sukuna’s intimate moments with his lover would be private – something that would be kept and cherished only between the two of them. But you aren’t human.

You are a curse born from people’s heartbreak and grief. You don’t even remember how you came to life; your first memory hazy of nothing but endless pain and so much anger you lost yourself. Until he came.

Ryomen Sukuna; the King of Curses – he adored you.

Finally, he met his equal. A curse equally as powerful and blinded by darkness, hatred, and bloodlust – you were one of the rare curses whose presence he enjoyed, and it didn’t take long before he invited you to his temple and offered a seat next to him.

You are Ryomen Sukuna’s right hand warrior, his greatest partner when it comes to battle. If he was powerful before, people feared you both even more when you joined powers. He didn’t go to war without you. For days on end, you and Sukuna would traverse villages and slaughter kingdoms to fill the emptiness gaping in your hearts, but he changed when he met her.

That fragile, meak, little human that loved him and changed him.

Because of her, even you are forced to join this war against jujutsu sorcerers. It’s been a long war – consisting of ten days and waning red moons. You and Sukuna barely came out unscathed this time, the Gojo clan seems to have something else under their sleeves, and your yukata had been ripped open in pieces while blood washed over your body like water.

You and Sukuna came back tired, weak, almost defeated.

You lay your back flat against the wall, teeth attacking your bottom lip while you pour potions over your cuts. At the other side of the temple, Sukuna is already fast asleep, safe in the arms of his lover. And you? You couldn’t even let out a small noise of whimper. Sukuna’s heightened senses would pick up on it, mistake that it would be his precious little woman in his sleepy daze, and you don’t want him to be further agitated.

Besides, once he realizes that it was just you, he would only go back to sleep.

Because he knew you didn’t need him, not in that way. You were the Curse born from Heartbreak, possibly the only ever person who would know pain and suffering the same way he did, but that isn’t true. Sukuna wouldn’t understand that this is your suffering – to have him within grasp but out of reach, to know that he was always with you, that he loves you just the same, but not in the way you want him to, not in the way you need him to.

To him, you are his beloved friend and partner in crime.

You are not the one who soothes him when he comes from war. You are not the one that gets to feel his harsh tongue soften at the first contact of your lips, to have the privilege of having rough hands that easily tortured others to be gentle as he dips his hands in the dips and curves of your body. You are not the one who gets to see him when he wakes up and he smiles half-lidded. You are not the one who gets to kiss his pain and wounds away, to wipe his tears from his cheeks because looking at you makes him wonder how lucky he is to have you.

Instead, you are the one he brings to war with. You are the one he trusts to keep her safe, to watch his back and guard all possible blind spots during war. You are the one who jumps in front of him when a blast of fire is on his way, and you are the one who heals his wounds in the battlefield when he grows too weak. You are the one he laughs with when you’ve both decapitated the enemy, growing only stronger with each passing day under the belief maybe both of you could rule the world someday.

But does any of it matter?

You always believed that you were okay with it, that having him trust you with his whole life, enough to have you sleeping under the same roof as him, was everything you needed. But after she came, you watched him fall in love, and you felt pathetic.

You could never have him.

You could never have what they have.

Sometimes you wonder, what if you just said it? In those nights where nothing but the moonlight illuminated both of your blood-stained faces, chests rising up and down as it both rumbled with laughter, discarded glasses of alcohol thrown on the ground – it would’ve been the perfect moment, wouldn’t it?

Though deep down, you knew the answer.

Sukuna wouldn’t love you, couldn’t love you. He wanted someone to protect, not someone to fight wars with. He wanted someone to come home to, not someone he wrecked homes with. He wanted to listen to someone’s dreams and passions – all of the things you didn’t have because you were born out of pain, living in pain, and Sukuna was the only thing that soothed you for a bit.

Your breaths came out raspy as your wounds began to close up. The stench of blood remained on your body, the red liquid drying up.

Sukuna wouldn’t want an impure woman like you. It makes sense he loved her. She was as bright as the sky while you were as dark as day, and when she laughed, she lit up the whole room. You don’t laugh, you don’t even smile. The only times you ever got to feel that sort of happiness was when you were still a fresh-born curse, a wild Sukuna more than glad to teach you of his ways.

It’s okay, you lie to yourself, crawling back to your bed while ridding yourself of your clothes. You would shower later; sleep needed to come first. Curses like you don’t really need, but you were too exhausted – inside and outside – that for once, you want to submit to healing.

As you close your eyes, you hear Sukuna stir in their room again. The sounds of faint lip-locking echo in your ears, making you slap your palms on the sides of your head, but you hear it, you hear it, you hear it, you hear it.

“How is Y/N?” she asks worriedly, her dainty, small, and innocent fingers that could never harm a fly brushing against his skin. Warm.

“She’s fine,” Sukuna rasps tiredly, “She’s a little beaten up, but she’s in a better state than I am,” you hear him kiss her on the forehead, a contended sigh leaving her lips. “She’ll be fine, my love. You know Y/N. She is fierce, brave, and courageous. This war is nothing to her.”

“I still feel bad she joined the war just so both of you could protect me.”

Shut up, shut up, shut up!

“She knows I love you,” Sukuna mumbles on top of her head, his hands tracing patterns on her back. Tears flowed out your eyes, your body trembling as you bit your fist, drool flowing down. You couldn’t stop the way you felt your heart torn to pieces. Really, it shouldn’t be anything new to you. You are a curse manifested from heartbreak, after all, but why did it hurt so much this time? “Y/N is a long time friend and ally of mine. She cherishes everything I cherish.”

“But still...aren’t you going to check up on her? I couldn’t even welcome her back. I haven’t seen you both in days and I...”

“Shhh,” Sukuna lulls her worries. “I’ll check up on her right now, although I don’t think she needs it. She’s a strong warrior, after all.”

“Sukuna,” her voice was laced with warning this time, but it later softens, as it always does. “Even the strongest have their weak moments, like how you are with me. Just because someone is capable of enduring the pain, doesn’t mean they won’t appreciate an act of kindness. Y/N has been loyal to you far longer than I have, but you really need to show your gratitude more to her,” she sighs, “Go check on her, my love. See if she’s doing well. If she’s fully recovered by tomorrow, I’ll head out to the market and prepare you both a lovely meal. It’s the least I could do.”

Sukuna chuckles, “My love, we don’t need to eat.”

“No matter. She likes miso soup, doesn’t she?”

By now, you’re frozen in bed. The blood and dirt and your skin have stained your sheets, and your hair is knotted in tangles from endless fighting. Maybe this is the reason why you hated yourself more than you hate her – because deep down, she isn’t really someone you could hate.

It makes sense Sukuna loves her.

Unlike you, she is kind, caring, gentle and full of love. What did you have? Pent up anger, bloodlust, temperamental tendencies and a hobby of withdrawing as a form of isolation because you couldn’t cope with the heartbreak – this is your gift. Your curse.

She is a blessing.

You hear the bed dip feet away, and whispers of, “Be safe, I’ll wait for you,” before a door slides close. Sukuna’s footsteps pad nearer in your hallway, in a place that he had his servants build just for you years ago when you proved your loyalty to him. Back then, you were over the moon when you saw him telling his people he wanted you to have your own room, but now it was like a huge slap on your face that Sukuna cared for you, but he didn’t want you close to him in the way she was.

Your room was on the other side of the temple, at the back, to be specific. While she stays with him in his own chambers, he used his magic to build her a beautiful garden filled with her favourite flowers, while you were somewhat locked away behind it all.

A bitter smile makes it way to your face. Sukuna was coming, not because he wanted to, but because she asked him to.

You want to laugh. Instead, you run out the room in such speed that the sheets fly away from your bed, and the floorboards crack under the force of your movements. When Sukuna raps his knuckles on your door, asks if he could come in (as if he needed permission for that), and you don’t answer, he takes it upon himself to intrude.

He isn’t surprised at your discarded clothes, or how your room remains dark and empty, as if you’d never been there at all. This isn’t the first time you ran away, and this would not be the first time he ran after you either.

He knows you’ll come home.

After all, it was him you kept coming back to – although he didn’t know that.

Breakfast the next day wasn’t any better. She invited you to join them, fretting over the cuts on your cheeks and dabbing at them with a wet towel. She feels like a doting mother who wouldn’t stop worrying about her child who tripped, and again, you realize why he loves her.

The food was good. Like she promised, miso soup is placed in a bowl you painted years ago, and she beams at you expectantly while Sukuna caressed her thighs under the table. Your lips tremble as you take a spoonful of it, letting the warm soup soothe your exhausted body with a sigh. Sukuna peers at you in the same curiosity, head tilted to the side ever so slightly as if waiting how you’ll react.

It’s no secret you don’t open yourself up to anyone other than him. The moment she came to live with you both, he could tell you locked yourself up in your room and even disappeared for weeks under the lie that you were parading in the districts to “look for some fun.”

Sukuna knows you better than you know yourself. He knows it’s a lie, that you’re not someone who “looks for fun” and that you probably just stayed up in the mountains watching the sunrise. He knows you’re uncomfortable with her displays of affection, of how she easily adored you or how she cared for you like you were her sister or even a friend, but he doesn’t say anything about it.

If anything, he only hopes you would treat her the same way.

You don’t finish your bowl. It’s extremely difficult to enjoy the food when Sukuna compliments her on her cooking skills and she turns beet red beside him, nervously giggling that she just wanted to make you feel better. Sukuna bends down to steal a peck from her lips, teasing her that she was his “sweet angel” who had a heart of gold.

They don’t even eat.

They’re just giggling, laughing, kissing, and you understand – you really do. It isn’t every day that Sukuna gets to indulge in the presence of his beloved. But only you are there with him. It’s either he trusts you enough to let his guard down, or you’re unimportant enough that he doesn’t care if you see him completely baby her and spoil her rotten with how he grabs her onto his lap and starts kissing her nose and then her eyelids.

Their cheerful laughter is a great contrast to the sound of your heart shattering into pieces. They don’t notice that you’ve excused yourself, heading out the room and into the back part of the house, passing the servants on the way.

Similar to how they treat Sukuna, they quiver and bow before you, making sure to keep their eyes on the floor in fear you’d slice their heads off. You fight back a sigh. You wouldn’t do that – not when they welcomed you so warmly (or rather, fearfully) and accepted you as their master. You realize that they don’t act this way around Sukuna’s lover. In fact, they light up when she’s around and talk to her freely; everyone was just comfortable in her presence.

You know you’re not her.

You could never be her.

She was a human, and you’re nothing but a lonely, heartbroken curse.

Hours pass by, and no one looks for you. You dare not enter the garden Sukuna made for her even if you also like the flowers, simply because you don’t want Sukuna to be appalled at the thought that someone like you – a Curse who’d killed people and tortured others – would also be enamoured with something as innocent as daisies.

The lake is peaceful that night. It’s painful to bathe back at the temple because the servants won’t leave you alone. They insist on washing your body for you and that you should lay back, but you refuse to be coddled. The lake is on the other side of the mountain, deep in the forest with smaller curses lurking, so no one would find you here.

The moon shines down bright on you, and for the first time since you’d gotten home, you smile.

It looks so beautiful. So big and bright, yet so haunting and peaceful with secrets you could never uncover. You stare at it as you take off your robes layer by layer, feet dipping into the cold water before submerging completely. The ripples on the lake illuminated by the moonlight makes it even more soul-stirring.

You cup the water and wash your hair, finally getting rid of the invisible stains from the war. You felt clean, refreshed – but your heart still rumbled with hatred and darkness. Hatred that you couldn’t be good enough, hatred that you’re destined to be lonely and unloved.

One of the good things about bathing at midnight is that no one gets to see your tears when it mixes in with the water, and you throw your head back in laughter with your arms extended to the sky. This is who you are – a Curse with no future and no past.

Later, you choke as a sob begins, your fist clenching above your heart. It hurt everywhere.

You wanted Sukuna – so much that you felt like you were going to go insane.

If it wasn’t for him, you’d be trapped in an endless nightmare. But he saved you, cared for you, made you his equal. So why couldn’t he love you? You’ve always been there for him. When people turned against him or plotted a rebellion, you were the one who snuck into clan houses and slit their throats, making their descendants and followers witness the consequence of disrespecting Sukuna.

When he was nearly exorcised by an overpowered jujutsu sorcerer, you summoned an army of thousand lost souls to defeat them, nearly ending up with you losing your head in the aftermath. It was always you – you were always there from him since the beginning, so why didn’t he love you?

You cupped your eyes with your palms, unable to stop the tears from coming now. Your whole body shook with sobs, turning number and number at the cold water. Nothing mattered, nothing mattered, nothing did if you couldn’t have Sukuna.

“Sukuna,” you cried out, pushing your hair back as the ripples blurred in your tear-stained view. “Sukuna, help me, please...” Put an end to my suffering, you inwardly begged. Death is a better option than watching him fall deeper and deeper for her, knowing that could never be you. He’d never look at you that way. He’d never touch you that way. He would never be your lover, and your sobs grew more desperate because you know you are his lover.

God, you loved him so much more than you hated yourself.

This sort of madness had you gasping for air. Death – death is a better option. It is a much more peaceful way to go than to suffer each waking day to have what you want be explicitly stated to be reserved for anyone else but you.

You froze when a pair of arms encircled your waist, his grip strong and vice-like. He turned you around, his large hand coming at the small of your neck to bring you down to his shoulder where you could hide your tears. Until now, he knows you better than you know yourself, and he knows it would shatter you even more if he saw you crying.

“Y/N,” Sukuna begins, and your eyes widen when you see he’s still wearing his robe. He must’ve jumped in the water. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. What’s wrong?”

Your lips turned blue from the cold. Unable to help the shiver that ran down your spine, your teeth chattered, and Sukuna pulled you closer to the heat of his skin. He sighed worriedly. “You need to tell me what’s wrong, otherwise, I can’t help you.”

“I” You falter. Your heart drums loudly in your chest. He would reject you, break your heart into pieces all over again but – so what if he did? It almost made you laugh. You’re the Curse of Heartbroken Souls. It wouldn’t make a difference if he hurt you now. Instantly, you weaken in his hold, and Sukuna’s hands grip your waist to keep you upright.

“Fuck, Y/N, what’s wrong —”

“Kiss me.”

“What?”

“Kiss me,” you repeat, more confidently this time. You pull away from him in the slightest bit, eyes blown wide as you peer up at his appalled ones. His hands squeeze your waist subconsciously, his sharp nails piercing through your skin until it draws blood. It makes you gasp a little, but you’re used to the pain. Right now, you want to be selfish and free yourself from this pain. “I want you to kiss me, Sukuna.”

His eyebrows pinch together. “What the fuck are you saying? I love someone else, you know I won’t —”

“Won’t do what?” You challenge, eyes burning from the intensity and ferocity of each nerve humming to life. “This isn’t who you are, Sukuna. You’re the King of Curses. Or have you already forgotten those days you would accept those female offerings and you’d fuck them until they’re out of their mind, then discard them as if they were nothing but dirty laundry? You were strong back then, majestic, but now you’re fucking weak,” You spat out. You know you’re spurning him on and pushing all his buttons, but somehow saying those words gave you great relief.

Now, it was time to see his patience snap, which shouldn’t take long since his grip had turned bruising on your hips, and he growled under his breath. “Don’t do this, Y/N.”

“You’re the one who shouldn’t do this,” you growl back, “You haven’t been the same ever since that pathetic excuse of a woman came. Don’t you remember that she left her husband and children just because she was a whore for you? Because you pleased her better than her human spouse?” You push him away with enough force that it sends him a few feet back, and Sukuna scowls. “She doesn’t love you! She only stays by your side because she was nothing but a filthy rat before and now you treat her like a queen! She’s nothing but a lowly human who —”

“Enough!”

“ —made you believe you’re someone she could love! Don’t you get it, Sukuna? We’re Curses, she’s a human! She will never understand us! You’re lying to yourself if you believe she doesn’t cry herself to sleep at the thought she’s next to a monster —”

“I said, that’s enough!” In a flash, Sukuna was in front of you, clawed hands wrapped around your neck. It would be so easy for him to break you and kill you right then and there, your feet already above ground and your exposed breasts just within his sight. Nevertheless, you only laugh cruelly at his agitation. “You know nothing,” he squeezed your neck tighter, “about what it’s like to love someone. How dare you say that she does not love me?”

“I know, because if you let me, I could love you a lot more,” you choked out, clawing at his arm, but he is unfazed by your efforts.

Sukuna lets go of you. You drop in the water as you gasp and breathe for air, but Sukuna’s wide eyes bring you back to reality. It’s that face, the one that tells you he’s been unaware this whole time, and the sudden confession drops on him like a cannonball.

Like a switch has been flipped off, you revert back to your normal self. Using your arms to shield your body, you run away from him, about to make it to the bank when his voice stops you. “Do you truly mean it? Do you love me?”

You close your eyes. “Yes. I always have.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You wouldn’t have believed me,” you pull your hair to the side, squeezing the water out. “You barely believe me now, so why believe me if I said it earlier? It wouldn’t have changed anything.”

“Then why were you calling for me? I heard you crying. You said you wanted me to help you.”

You whip around, tears furiously flowing down. “I’m going to the jujutsu sorcerers myself tomorrow and let them exorcise me. There’s no point to my existence, Sukuna. I’m tired of all the wars. I’m tired of fighting for someone I don’t even care about. I’m tired of loving you and watching you look at her instead of me, when I’m the one who’s always been there for you. I’m tired of —” you hiccup, embarrassed that he was now watching you break down in front of him. You were a powerful curse, dammit, you shouldn’t even be crying about this. “—I’m tired of not being the one you love.”

Sukuna stands there gaping. You don’t give him another chance to speak as you walk away, seemingly a new habit of yours now. You haven’t always been this way. Patience was never one of your strongest points, but being around Sukuna for the past years taught you a thing or two. That all shatters now that you’ve grown tired, the shame of patheticness crawling between your legs as you retrieve your robes, not bothering to dry up.

He exhales through his nose, claws balled into a fist to restrain his anger. Now he wants to be gentle with you the way he is with her?

Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic – you keep chanting to yourself. You’re not there yet, but there have already been rumours that you’re the Queen of Curses, the only one who ever managed to be Sukuna’s equal. Although men feared you, they also lusted after you.

How could they not? You were a sexual prowess, and a fearsome figure in the battlefield. Men are confused whether they want to be with you, or if the mere utter of your name had them fainting. Sukuna, on the other hand? He didn’t care. He didn’t notice you. You’re nothing but a war tool to him, his friend and companion during his dark days when he grew bored and would randomly slaughter homes and enslave people.

He’s not the same anymore. The Sukuna you once knew was gone, and you turned back away from him bitterly, the blue flames licking up your skin as a symbol of anger, hatred, but most of all, humiliation.

That night, you didn’t go back to the temple.

And a small, quiet village who’d been loyal to both you and Sukuna had become the victims of your frustration.

The next day, silence echoes in the hallways of the temple. You couldn’t hear even the soft breathings or whispers of the servants. Your ears perk up once you cross the threshold, dropping your bloody katana and releasing your hair from its red tie. The temple servants must’ve already heard that their relatives died the night before – all thanks to your inability to handle your feelings.

It’s okay, you tell yourself, you’ve done this a thousand times before with Sukuna: killing people, enjoying their screams, basking in their surrender and painting the image of hope fading from their eyes into the back of your school.

You’ve done this a thousand times before with Sukuna, but this is the first time you’ve done it alone. You only ever took their lives because Sukuna asked you. Because he assured it was a way to keep gaining strength and to make a name for yourself; that being a powerful Curse was the best feeling in the world and no amount of woman or alcohol felt greater than power.

Sukuna lied.

To him, his heaven was in her arms.

And you? Utterly lost. Broken. With nowhere else to go. As you enter your room, you’re greeted by the sight of a made up bed and cleaned sheets. Even after slaughtering families, your servants still cleaned your room out of fear, and the previous blood from the other day had been wiped away with bleach.

Then, you see yourself from the floor length mirror. White yukata that might as well have been red from the amount of absorbed into the cloth draped over your curves, and your eyes lost what little light it once held. Blood drips from your fingertips and you swipe your thumb over your lip, a small gasp falling to your lips as you recall a little girl, barely five or six winters old, with the exact same lips trembling as she begs you not to kill her parents.

It’s the splitting image of you when you were younger, when you ran around cities unintentionally wreaking havoc out of confusion over your powers. You have no parents. No past. No memory. You just came into existence because of mankind’s grief, and it only made sense you carried that burden more than anyone else.

But you’re not this. You are not a killer. You didn’t enjoy it. You never enjoyed it. Even when Sukuna convinced you that you did, there was no forgetting the fact that you cried yourself to sleep when you were younger at the thought you grew more powerful because you added to the heartbreak of people.

The word heartbreak lights up a bulb in your head. That’s right...you’re the Curse of Heartbreaks – of pain, of grief, of mourning, of suffering.

If you couldn’t have what you want, then why should he? Isn’t it already written in your fate that your destiny is to carry those pain, inflict it onto others, and make them realize they’re wasting their lives believing a lie that love prevails all? That love prevails even someone as irredeemable as Sukuna?

You won’t allow it.

Without wasting another second, you dash to her room. Sukuna’s out to deal with some clan leaders for whatever ritual he wants to perform or out to get more healing potions. The girl never went anywhere else outside the temple because both jujutsu sorcerers and curses are always ready to prance, and she’s smart to not put herself in harm’s way.

But you are harm’s way.

You run so fast through the hallways that you keep bumping into corners, denting the wooden boards and the floor cracking beneath you. You don’t stop until you reach their room, swiping the doors open, and sliding on the doorframe when you see she’s still asleep.

She and Sukuna must’ve stayed up all night performing...activities. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have been this weak. She’s a lively and bubbly girl, she wouldn’t have – you freeze in your spot.

Tentatively, you reach over to where she softly snored, tilting her to face you by grabbing her shoulder. She only groans in her slumber before burying herself under the covers. “Sukuna...” her brows furrow as she twitches, probably dreaming about something, and she kicks the covers off with a whine. That’s when you see it. And then you see everything.

A small – barely there – bump on her tummy is half concealed by her lace gown that reveals her skin free from scars, a sign that she’d never really been in battle. But she’s carrying his child, and even though you’re not the one pregnant, you feel bile rise up in your throat.

Your knees wobble and you fall beside their bed, your palms shaky as you place it over her belly. First, you hear a baby cry, and then, a man’s scream.

Sukuna carries his daughter’s form, the little thing bundled up safely in towels while her father coos at her. She’s so small, vulnerable and exposed to the horrors of the world, but she didn’t need to worry about that. Sukuna would protect her, and so would you.

You stand outside the room, a small smile on your face with your arms crossed on your chest. Well, you’ll be damned. You’re not a fan of children and babies in general, but you do admit the infant’s cries sound like music to your ears. It means she’s alive and healthy, and even though her existence is nearly impossible considering her father is a curse, the girl was born perfectly fine and well.

Suddenly, a dark, ominous presence looms over the room. You stand on guard, hands drawing your blade to prepare for whatever or whoever attacked you. You’re not a fan of the kid and or her mother regardless, but Sukuna is left open and vulnerable for attack in this state. He’s too busy fawning over his kid to sense any incoming assault.

However, something doesn’t feel right with this one. That dark, suffocating feeling doesn’t travel. Instead, it’s stagnant and somewhat docile, as if it has no intention to attack, but its threat still remains. It doesn’t even seem like it came from anywhere or it’s about to arrive. Rather...it’s like it was always there to begin with.

Your eyes widen at the realization.

What would happen if a curse...fathered someone else? Would it be human? Or would it be something worse?

You slam the doors open, and everything happens in slow motion. The baby’s mother reaches out to a nearly sobbing Sukuna, eager to see her child, but just as her small, grubby hands wrap around her mother’s pointer finger, it falls. She stops breathing, her arm falling limp, and Sukuna stops cooing. The baby’s cries cease, staring up at her father and extending her small arms to cup his face.

It seems he realized it too, but it was too late.

“Sukuna, don’t!”

The child giggles, her knuckles brushing against her father’s jaw, and the King of Curses lose his grip on her. You watch as they both fall, a garbled scream leaving your lips. The midwife runs to save the child before she’s crushed under Sukuna’s weight, but she too has fallen victim the moment her skin made contact with the baby’s.

No...it’s not even a child or an infant. It’s not even human.

It’s the Curse of Death.

And at her birth, the world would grow dark, darker than what you and Sukuna have already caused the world to be. Her words would sound like a fork scraping against a plate; torturous, excruciatingly painful, and enough to have you begging for death. The simple brush of skin upon skin takes away the energy, power, and life even of the most powerful beings. After all, what is stronger than Death? It was the only absolute truth in the world – which all things must come to an end.

You retract your hand from her body, sweat dripping on your hairline. That thing growing inside her body...it must not be born. Sukuna would die.

With a silent scream, you whip out the dagger and force it upon her stomach. Or at least, you would’ve, if not for the blade that had peaked out your chest and nearly poking Sukuna’s lover’s back. Blood stained the silver blade, leaking into your lap.

You drop your dagger.

“I trusted you,” Sukuna begins calmly, pulling out the sword from your body in one swift movement. He ignores the way you cough out blood, your head shaking as if to deny his words. His face remains expressionless as he wipes your blood on his thigh, dropping the potions to aid her pregnancy beside her on the bed. Sukuna crouches down to your level and pulls you by the hair until he’s close enough that you could see his two other eyes also glare at you. “Have I not made it clear she is to be untouched? Just because you’re unable to handle your petty jealousy, does not give you a goddamn right to kill what’s mine.”

“What grows in her is a monster,” you sneer, struggling against his grip. You’ve forgotten that his sword is imbued with his special curses that would immediately exorcise any weaker Curse, but because you’re on the same level as him, you die slowly, and a lot more painfully.

“That child is mine. It was created out of love.”

“It is not a child!” You argue, “It will be born as the Curse of Death, one that will kill both you and your little lover!”

“And if you’re lying?”

You grit your teeth. “I would never lie to you, Sukuna.”

His brow shots upwards, a smirk creasing his lips. “Is that so?” he shoves you until you slam against the wall. Sukuna treads to you dangerously, his tongue peeking out to swipe at his lips. You know that darkness in his eyes better than most – it’s the look he always wore when he decides to go for the kill. “Then, since you’re always honest to me, tell me this: do you still love me?”

You don’t even think about it.

“Yes. That’s why I’m telling you to get rid of that thing before you and everyone else dies.”

“A concerned little lamb,” he hums in amusement. “That makes it clear then,” Before you could process what happens next, you take your last breath as Sukuna rips out your heart with his claws. It’s not an actual heart, but rather the core of your Curse manifestation and the gem-like object is crushed under his fists. “Queen of Curses, Curse of Heartbreak,” he drops the pieces of your heart into your lap, Sukuna growing more and more blurry in front of you. “Die the same way you came to life: with a terrible, terrible heartbreak.”

Sometimes, you can’t help but feel like you’d been an awful person in your past life. It’s not that you’d ever done anything illegal or rebellious. Your parents are quite proud of your immaculately clean school record, and your grades are even above average. The school’s faculty absolutely adores you for your preppy personality, always volunteering to help others and taking the lead when no one wants to budge.

You suppose you’re quite a role model, but what no one understands is that maybe you’re always going out of your way to be kind with someone because deep down, you have a nagging feeling you’ve once been a terrible person.

Sighing, you wrap your arms around your legs as you hug it to yourself, whacking your forehead in your knees to get rid of those impending thoughts. There’s really no reason behind it, more like an intuition that you’ve forgotten about something important.

You’re pulled out of your trance when warm, soft hands push your hair back, and a pair of even softer lips land at your shoulders. Immediately, you smile, turning your head to peer at the dark-haired beauty that shyly peeks up at you under his long lashes. He keeps peppering kisses all the way up to your neck until you laugh from being ticklish, and it doesn’t take long before Megumi has you smiling again.

He knows you better than you know yourself.

“What’s wrong?” he mumbles on your shoulder, his warm hand drawing comforting circles on your lower back. Again, the simple gesture ignites something within you, something about oddly familiar even if you don’t feel like you’ve experienced it firsthand. “You’ve been deep in thought lately.”

“Lately?”

“Hmm,” he moves up your face, pressing a long, solid kiss at your forehead. It makes you relax and sigh happily, unable to help your urge to crawl into his lap and bury yourself in his arms. “Ever since Itadori enrolled here, you’ve always looked at him...quite weirdly. Is he bothering you? You know if he does something weird, I won’t hesitate to feed him to the Divine Dogs.”

That elicits a laugh from you. Now that you think about it, you’ve been awfully quite ever since Gojo sensei came back with that overly excited kid. You don’t know why, you don’t even realize his presence affects you, but you don’t want Megumi to worry about it when you can’t understand it yourself. So you hug him closer until the scent of fresh laundry wafts your senses, and you brush his scalp tenderly.

Megumi purrs.

“It’s nothing you should worry about, I’m sure I’m just tired from exams.” Unlike Megumi, you’re not a jujutsu sorcerer. You came from a totally human family that lived a totally mundane humane life, unaware that curses exist and people actually die from it. If it wasn’t for Megumi saving you that one time in school when you unknowingly stayed behind the same night the Occult Club did and ran into some freaky monsters, you would continue living without any idea of it.

It wasn’t always easy accepting Megumi’s true identity, but you loved him more than anyone else, and so hiding in his dorms while lying to your parents you were going to sleep over a friend’s house has become somewhat a daily occurrence. You’ve even made friends with the lovely Nobara and Maki senpai who welcomes you with open arms – although maybe it’s because you never fail to bring them food from the city and some fashionable items for Nobara.

Megumi senses your hesitance to talk about it, so he drops it and enjoys the feeling of your skin on him instead, your breaths falling in the same rhythm. Tonight, he and his classmates would go out on a mission again because the idiotic Gojo-sensei was away overseas, and as always, you’d stay up late in Megumi’s room, waiting for him to come back right after he promises you you’ll come back safely.

You close your eyes and wrap yourself around him like a koala, and Megumi laughs at how small you are. He doesn’t brush you off, though. He knows you fear for his life despite the fact you trust him with his abilities, but you can’t help it. It’s only natural to worry about your loved one, after all.

For now, he’ll have to keep cuddling and kissing you for as long as he could before he leaves.

How does one soothe their lover who’s come from battles?

You scramble away from Megumi’s bed the moment you’re waken up by the sound of steady knocks. The first aid kit lays on his study desk, which you swipe with sleepy eyes as his baggy clothes crinkle in your smaller figure. It’s rare that Megumi lets you see his state during after battles, but today, tonight, he allowed you to stay even after his mission.

Your steps are nothing but hurried when you slide the door open, his name about to fall from your lips until you’re greeted by a young man with strawberry blonde hair and black marks on his face. It’s Itadori Yuuji, but at the same time, it’s not him...

His cheerfulness and airheaded self is gone, replaced with a much sinister entity residing within it. The man before you sighs, frowning in distaste at your clothes – your boyfriend’s clothes – before he invites himself in and shuts the door behind him.

Sukuna hums, pulling you closer to him until there is no space between your skin and his, his face nuzzling in your neck. “I’m home,” his lips brush the bare skin of your neck, his breath warm and ticklish. “I made it home to you, my Queen. Safely like you asked.”

“Wha-?”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers so quietly you wonder if you heard it at all. “For not believing you, for not seeing you. It took me thousands of years to realize where I fucked it all up, but I know the truth now. And you were right – you were always right. I hope in this life I no longer break your heart in the same way you soothe mine.”

- - - - -

A/N: Sounds like a pretty confusing ending, which it is, and I was gonna leave it at that but because I don’t want anyone to go “HUH?” after reading this, I’m just gonna explain :D Sukuna eventually realized how toxic he was to the reader in her past life, how he convinced her to be a bad person with him then emotionally abandoning her the moment he found his happiness. She was the Curse of Heartbreak, and her powers remained even after she was “exorcised.”

She broke his heart by showing him how he lost everything after her exorcism and his lover’s death (because he also saw the future that the child was the Curse of Death) and all those years of suffering eventually made him realize that the power of heartbreak was the one that destroyed him. So in the present, when the reader was reincarnated as a human girl, he finally found her and tries to make up for his mistakes because she was actually his first love, he just didn’t realize it because both of them were somewhat barbaric and psychotic. Lmk what you think, I hope you liked it!

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blogevaawrites · 3 years

Text

BIG DEAL

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: smut, cheating, angst

Summary: After being away of you boyfriend for three weeks, you come to Chris’s house after he had thrown a party where you met a girl you haven’t see ever. The beginning of the relationship was unconventional so you couldn’t do anything else but suspect.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

There’s something I do when I don’t know how to deal with a situation.

I clean my closet.

I organize it; I try everything on, throw out pieces I don’t wear anymore, or I don’t like. I like to spend time doing this just because I don’t have to think in anything else.

“He’s calling again, you’re not picking up, are you?” Linda asked from the other side of the room. I was surrounded by my clothes and shoes and things, and she was working in her laptop.

“No.” I answered simply and kept doing my thing.

“Isn’t better if you pick up and tell him to stop? This is his tenth call today, and I don’t want to know about texts. This is not right.”

“I’m not ready to think about this.” I muttered. I didn’t realize she got up from the bed and walked to me.

“It’s fine, everything is going to be fine” she said hugging me. Her touch brought tears out of my eyes, but her kindness made me feel safe.

Linda moved to NY a few months before I did, and I could be more blessed because she moved to the next door’s apartment. She has been there since then; our friendship was the kind of you find just a couple times in a lifetime.

“Don’t worry I will be right here. We can clean your closet as many times as you need.”

It’s been three days since I left his house, and my phone has been ringing since then.

I spent my first day watching true-crime documentaries, eating ice cream and drinking wine. The second day I started donating the clothes I wasn’t wearing anymore. And today, I have cleaned the closet three times. Linda enjoyed the first two days, but she hated to organize anything, so she killed time working from my bed.

“That one is pretty sexy. Why don’t we go out to dinner and have a few drinks tonight? Lucy and Vanessa have been calling too.” She spoke.

I thought about it for a few minutes, and I was actually feeling sick of being here.

“Yeah! Why not? I need more alcohol” I joked.

The night went pretty fun, and I kind of felt better and ready to face everything, his apologies, his face and his voice. Around three a.m I was ready to go back home and sleep my hangover. “Are you sure you don’t need me there? Linda asked when I told her I was leaving, she was having a good time and I didn’t want to spoil her fun. “Yeah! Don’t worry, I’m sick of being depressed, I’m ready to be me again.” She smiled at me and hugged me before I left.

The uber ride was fast, no traffic nor people in the street this made my way home calm, and the driver was quite funny. He waited for me to get in the building and left, leaving alone again. The lobby’s lights were automatic, but they weren’t working very well, I knew the way to my door, so I didn’t bother turning my phone’s flashlight on. Going up stairs, I tried to take off my high heels, but something made me get alarmed. A dark big shadow at the top of the stairs. My heart stopped for a second.

“Holy crap! What are you doing here? Why are you sitting there? You scared the shit out of me, asshole!” I yelled when the light of the hallway turned on and all of the sudden the silhouette of a big man appeared at the top the stairs. My heart started to beat in this normal pace when I recognized his face.

“I’m sorry that wasn’t my intention. You weren’t picking the phone. I was worry about you.” His hands went up in a signal of inoffensive. His voice was hoarse and his eyes a little bit swollen and red. I could say he had been crying.

“I’m fine, you can go.” I said, walking straightly to my apartment’s door. I looked for my keys in my bag as faster as I could.

“Can we talk?” he moved to stay behind me while I opened the door. He didn’t get too close to me and I felt grateful for that.

“I don’t want to hear anything, and right now the only thing I want is to sleep.” I got in the apartment and closed the door rapidly. With my forehead rested against the closed door and my hands still on the handle, I listened to him to beg. I missed him, his voice, his smell, his fucking presence made me shake my legs.

“Please, just give me five minutes. I love you and I can’t let you think I don’t. I know I fucked everything up but…” I opened the door before he could finish it. He looked quite surprised when a move away to let him pass.

He didn’t say anything, walked in and moved around awkwardly. I told him to sit with my head. He took a sit on the couch and I didn’t move from the door, with my back resting it in. His eyes stared me few a few minutes, making me feel uncomfortable, defenseless.

“You look beautiful.” He said quietly.

“You have five minutes.” The alcohol in my body brought rudeness out of my mouth. I was tired, kind of drunk and still hurt by him so couldn’t let him get any closer in any dimension.

“I’m sorry.” He said before his hands rubbed his face roughly. “I went to NY to tell you everything. I really did, I felt horrible, and I didn’t want to hurt you, but I knew I had to tell you. Carly thought it too. You know them, there’s no place for any secrete between them. When I arrived in here, saw your face and I felt your arms around me I chickened out. I realize that I couldn’t live without you; for the first time in my life, I was really scared to lose somebody. And that was a feeling I wasn’t used to.” His statements made my heart ache. I wished anything of this had happened.

“So, you lied? Because you loved me.” I knew he wasn’t a perfect boyfriend in the past but that was a shitty excuse.

“I didn’t know how to tell you. When Carly called that night, she heard you in the back then she assumed that you forgave me, and I didn’t deny it. I felt awful but I got into that lie so quickly, I didn’t know what to do.” I sat on ankles, sliding down the wall. I hid my face with my hands trying to avoid him to see me cry.

“I wasn’t joking, honey. You are the love of my life and I didn’t want to lose you. That scare got so real that I couldn’t face it. I’m sorry, I really am. With you everything is different, and I didn’t realize it until that. The fear of losing you got in my skin and it never left.” I didn’t feel him to come closer to me until I felt his hands in mine. As soon as I felt it, I got up and moved away from him. I knew I could fall for him quickly.

“If you have done, you should leave.” I could say walking to the fridge to pour water in glass. My throat was dry.

He looked at me for a while, then took a deep and loud breath and moved to the door.

I saw him walk to the door, to leave the apartment, to leave me. I did understand the scare of losing someone, I had lost a few people in my life, but seeing him leaving it was different, I was losing him, and everything was his fault. That didn’t feel fair.

“Why you did this to me?” The words left my mouth before I could think about it. He turned around to look at me, but I hadn’t finished “Why didn’t you break up with me if you wanted to fuck somebody else? Why were you seeing Ashley? Why did you play along with her game after the kiss?” my voice got louder at every question. I wasn’t a person who yelled easily but I couldn’t help it.

“Baby, I’m a dickhead, I screw up every relationship I’ve ever had. I don’t know why. I promised I went out with her with any side intention, when she kissed me, I felt that fear again. And at the party, I swear I didn’t invite her, I wanted to keep her away from you, I wanted to keep everything what I did away from us.”

“Yeah! That’s why you took her panties.” I said ironically. “What did you want me to do? Kicked her out of the house, making a scene?” He saw my face burning in anger and he continued. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I hate myself enough for both of us.” Said that he took his way again. I didn’t hate him. I loved him. I was needed for him.

I moved quickly to get him; I could reach him by the arm.

As soon as he turned around to look at me, I jumped on his mouth. He didn’t take any longer to embrace his arms around me, pushing my face more against his, as if that was even possible.

We walked clumsily to the nearest wall; he squeezed my butt before holding me up. His hands flew through my tights, caressing them and reached my wet panties. I moaned when I felt his fingers rubbing me. “I need you.” He whispered in my ear. His fingers went to undo his pants and I could get out of his arms.

I saw panic in his face for a couple of seconds. But it disappeared when he saw me got into my knees. I took his hard member in my hands to stroke it a few times before get it into my mouth. He rested his forehead in the wall, and shut his eyes, leaving me caged by his body.

His breathing changed when he opened his eyes and watched my mouth around the head of his sensitive cock. Clenched jaw and hands making fist, he moaned loudly as he was being relieved of great amount of pressure.

My lips wrapped around his cock, taking as much as my throat could, and my hand gripped the rest. I wasn’t thinking, I didn’t want to think. I was tired and sick of the anxiety that this situation was giving me.

I knew this wasn’t a good idea. I wasn’t proud but I wanted it.

“I love your fucking mouth.” his voice brought my back from my thoughts. I started to suck a little bit harder as he was getting bigger. His hips also started to thrust him into my mouth, making me gag at one particularly push. “Shit! Sorry!” he said, taking my face in his hands and making me get up from my knees. “I don’t want to cum in your mouth.” he responded to my unanswered question. We kissed as his hands tried to get rid of my dress, and mine were fighting with his shirt.

Just in my panties, he pickup me up and put me on the hall’s table. Sucking my nipples and rubbing my breast and ass, he ripped my panties and his dick stormed in me.

I yelled in surprise; I was actually more than ready to take him.

“I loved that ones.” I murmured pretending to be sadly for my lingerie.

“I will make it worth.” He said with smile on his face before taking my calves over his shoulders. His thrusts were deep, rough, and needed, I tired to hold on to the table, but his movements got fiercely, and I could feel my orgasm coming.

The table wasn’t meant to this kind of activities. We realized it very late.

“Holy crap!” he said when he saw the table fall, holding me better in his arms. Everything I could do was laugh. He intended to let me go but crossed my arms behind his neck.

“No! Take me to bed!” I whispered in his ear. He smiled before kissing me.

He laid down on the bed with me over him. “Ride me, baby.” he said holding me from my hips.

I started to move up and down on his cock, rolling my hips. I saw he shut his eyes, a signal he was close, so I started to ride hard on him. His fingers were marking my hips as he pushed me up and down savagely. I groaned at the almost painful pleasure.

I felt his body getting tense as he filled me up with his cum.

“God! I love you!” he yelled.

Something woke up inside me, suddenly I felt dirty and ashamed. I hid my breast with my arms as I stood up from bed. His cum dripping on my inner thigh, made me just feel worst.

He didn’t realize, he was still dazed. He took my arm when he realized that I wasn’t coming back to bed. “Come back, I’m still hard.” He muttered with his eyes closed. I let him to guide my body, he made me lay down next to him and cuddle.

“These couple days have been awful; I’ve never felt that bad.” His lips were right next to neck and made me get goosebumps.” I was so scared of not seeing you again.” He said pecking my neck. He turned my hips a little, just enough to let himself into me one more time. I was feeling guilty, I was using him. I wasn’t forgiving him, but he thought I was.

I didn’t want a confrontation; I couldn’t handle one.

His hand held my face to keep kissing my mouth, and his other one at my hip, holding me steady. “Your so good for me.” he said between kisses. His hand went from my hip to my clit. He worked himself in deeper and rubbed me just in the right way.

My body was so tensed and my brain so away from the reality that I didn’t noticed he fell sleep.

I wanted to have sex with him, I enjoyed. I shouldn’t feel bad for him, he cheated on me and lied, but I wasn’t like that.

I woke up with his snoring in my ear. I got out of his embrace needy for water, the hangover was taking my body. I saw my clothes and his’s all over the floor and the broken table. I didn’t get to do the walk of shame, it was my apartment, I was living in the shame.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” His voice resounded throughout the entire place.

“Okay! You are really thirsty” he said when I drank the water quickly. I didn’t answer, I didn’t look at him. The situation was awkward, and he noticed it.

“What’s going on?” he asked from behind. I ignored him again. “Hey! Are you okay?” he shouted and turned me over to face me.

“Yes, I’m just still drunk.” I said softly. I tired my best to look unbothered.

“Can we talk?” he asked.

“Not right now. I have things to do.” I started to pick everything up. “I think you should leave; I really have things to do.” I avoided his eyes. I get repetitive when I feel nervous. He knew it.

“Well, I think you’re acting like a child. What happened last night?” his voice wasn’t loud, but it was hard.

I just could shrug, I felt ashamed, and he was mad.

“Talk to me! Damn! Don’t shut up. You always do that. I fucked everything up, I know. But you kissed me last night, you started everything so, right now please talk! Tell me what is happening!” now he was yelling, he looked mad and kind of sad, the guilt just spread across my body.

“What you want me to say, Chris? I wasn’t thinking properly.” I said, looking how he was getting dress himself.

“So, wasn’t mean a shit for you?” I felt like our roles were reversed. Now he was angry, and I was the one giving the explanations.

“I don’t want to hurt your feelings.” I could say.

“Yes, you do, and to be honest, I understand. I deserved it, but I don’t…” he was wrong, I knew I hurt him but that wasn’t my intention, I loved him, and he knew it.

“I don’t want to hurt you. I’m not like you.” My voice wasn’t soft anymore. We were in the same level, he wanted me to feel guilty, so I was doing the same. I continued “Sorry, but I’m not going to apologize, I didn’t want to hurt you. I felt bad and I wanted to have sex with you, you could have said no, and you didn’t do it. But I didn’t say anything to make you think that I forgave you.” His eyes goy darker with my words. he stared me for a few seconds.

“I couldn’t have said no, you could have given me a glass full of worms and I would have taken it.” I felt he was playing the victim; I could stand it.

“I give you a relationship and you pissed on it.” I said crudely.

The room got in a deep silence and filled with tension and resentment.

“You were right, we shouldn’t talk right now.” He spoke after a couple minutes, he took his jacket and got ready to leave. The scare of losing him went back to my head, but I knew it was the best and this time I stood up to it.

“I don’t want to see you again.” I said when he got closer the door. He looked at me incredulous, but he didn’t interrupt.

“I’m still mad and hurt, so I’m not forgiving you soon. But that doesn’t matter because we can’t be together, I don’t trust you and my insecurity in our relationship will freak you out at some point and it will be worst, for both of us.” I didn’t want to cry but I failed, at least he was weepy too.

I thought he was going to response, but he didn’t, he left my apartment without hesitation, slamming the door.

Tag list: @breezykpop @calwitch @firoozehmoon

#Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fic #chris evans imagine #chris evans smut #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #Smut #fluff #chris evans fluff #CHRIS EVANS ANGST #angst #big deal #fiction #fanfic #FIC #imagine #chris evans and reader

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 3 years

Text

Into The Unknown, Part 1

... I have no self-control do not perceive me

Marinette stared at the pile of bright red, yellow, and green clothes on the ground. It was all she’d done in the five-ish minutes since she’d portaled onto the scene. Just… stared.

It wasn’t like there was much else to do, anyways. Red Robin was currently beating the absolute fuck out of the person that had the audacity to disintegrate his brother right in front of him. It wasn’t like she could even fix it because the witch had been out cold before she had been able to pull Red Robin off to get a hit in so she could use her lucky charm.

So, she stared.

It was weird. She could almost feel a person inside the clothes but… maybe that was the residue or the ashes or whatever gets left behind when you zap a person out of existence? She didn’t really want to check, to be honest. Gross.

Eventually, though, she hesitantly leaned down and brushed her hand over it, trying to find the energy and get rid of it because it was really uncomfortable --.

… oh hell no that pile of clothes did not just fucking giggle at her.

She narrowed her eyes and carefully lifted up the bottom of the shirt, only to yelp and fall back. She scrabbled on the gross Gotham alley ground until her back hit Red Robin’s arm and he was forced to pause or risk hitting a meta (which would not have been good for his health).

“What?” He hissed.

She swallowed thickly. “That’s a child.”

“... what?” Red asked, all the anger bleeding from his tone in his confusion.

“We let Batman’s kid turn into a baby,” she whispered… then, it sunk in more. “We let Batman’s kid turn into a baby.”

He straightened on top of the thing that was really more bloody pulp than person at this point. “What do you mean ‘we let Batman’s kid turn into a baby’?”

But she didn’t really get a chance to answer because the baby chose that exact moment to be sick of being suffocated under all the armor and pushed it off.

Red Robin gulped. Because, yep, that was Robin as a baby. Batman was going to kill them.

Except he wasn’t going to kill them. Because Batman doesn't kill. No, Batman would find something even worse and that would suck.

The baby -- Robin? Should she still call him that mentally? -- giggled at their pain. Like an asshole.

They were so fucked.

He’d let B’s favorite kid get turned into a baby. Was there a way to get unadopted? Because if there was it was totally going to happen. Or maybe his dad would just cut him off because he was 19 now and could just get kicked out.

No. Nope! Not going to happen. No. He could fix this.

“Okay. Okay okay okay. We need a plan,” he heard himself saying.

Ladybug scoffed. “We? I was barely even here, this is on you.”

“Leave me alone to deal with this and I swear to god I will tell B that you did it.”

She paled. “You wouldn’t. No way.”

“Yes way. So, help me think of something.”

The baby giggled and started crawling over and both of them averted their eyes because, unfortunately, the child did not get baby clothes to go with his random transformation. Baby Damian didn't seem to care as he reached them and started climbing on Ladybug since she was closest. At least it wasn’t him. He did not want to see his adoptive brother’s… ew.

Ladybug made a gagging sound and then quickly summoned a lucky charm. She kept her face turned away as much as her neck would physically allow as she fumbled her way through swaddling the child in a polka-dotted blanket.

And then her shoulders slumped a little. “Great. Great. This is… great,” she muttered, picking up the bundle o’ baby.

He let himself look down now that it was safe.

“Alright, we need to go to another dimension where time moves faster,” Ladybug said after a few seconds. “And then we wait for him to age… fifteen-ish years. Best way to not make Batman notice.”

“... what about us? We also age.”

“Huh…? Oh. Right. You’re human.” She pulled off the glasses she was wearing and blinked a few times before handing it over. “Congrats on your upgrade. The tiny horse god is named Kaalki. She likes cake.”

“The tiny --?” He let out the world’s manliest screech as his eyes landed on the floating bug horse hybrid thing holy shit no no no no no the sci fi movies didn’t prepare him for this shit.

Kaalki looked a little offended but then her eyes landed on the baby and she gasped. “Aw, baby humans are always so cute.”

“Great, Kaalki, you take it,” said Ladybug.

Kaalki did try, to her credit. It just so happened that the approximately one-year-old baby was a lot bigger than the… whatever she was. Tim was refusing to believe that this was a god. Too many implications. He already had something to have a breakdown over, he didn’t need another thing right now, thank you very much.

Tim rested his head in his hands but he had more things to worry about than the blood that he was accidentally streaking through his hair.

“Okay. Okay. We can go to another dimension and try and raise him. Maybe we can make it have a ratio of one month here for every year there so any differences could be blamed on that.”

“Ya!” Said baby Damian. He probably didn’t actually know what was going on but he sure seemed excited so that was cool.

Ladybug sighed and nodded. “Great. You get food and money and clothes and I’ll take this lady to the cops… and I guess I’ll watch the kid until you get back because your dad cannot know.”

They shook on it.

This may be the dumbest idea that she’d ever had, and that was saying something. She didn’t know if she could trust Red Robin on this one, they hardly ever worked together. What if he just left her alone with this kid and let her try and figure this out on her own?

No. He wouldn’t do that. He was the last person known to be with Robin. Robin going missing would be bad for him, too. And, besides, she was pretty sure that he was a duty-driven person based on what she’d heard, she just had to hope that he saw this as his duty, too.

She turned the baby in her arms to get more comfortable as she waited for him to (hopefully) come back.

Part of her wanted to try and find someone from this world to reverse this but she didn’t know any outside of her, Adrien, Alix, and (now) Red Robin. Not on a personal level. Not enough that she knew for sure that they wouldn’t blab to Batman about it.

So, no, this is what she was doing.

But she had things to do. So, she pulled out her yoyo-phone-hybrid-thingy and wedged it against her ear.

“Chaton,” she said the moment he picked up. “You’re alone, right?”

“Uh… yeah?”

“Great. I, Ladybug, relinquish the Miracle Box and name Chat Noir the new guardian.”

“WHAT --?!” He didn’t get to finish as a box dropped on his lap and knocked the wind out of him.

“Just for, like, a year and a half. Sorry. Bye!”

“DON’T JUST ‘BYE’ ME WHAT THE --?!”

She hung up and closed the yoyo, hooking it back to her belt and ignoring it when it started buzzing again.

She looked down at Robin, who was squinting up at her. She returned the squint. Why was this baby so quiet? She didn’t get it. Surely, he should have been crying at this point.

“Do you still… remember things?” She asked, hoping against all hope that maybe he had retained his memories at the very least.

Robin smiled at her, but it was the blank-eyed baby smile that meant he wasn’t really understanding her. She bit down a curse.

Great. So, she’d not only gotten a baby but she’d gotten a fucking weird one. Great.

Tim left a note for his family saying that he, Damian, and Ladybug were bored and were going dimension hopping. His family would probably be suspicious but, hey, at least it wouldn’t be his problem for a good fifteen years on his end.

And, yeah, he knew this was probably one of his dumber plans but… it wasn’t the dumbest. And he was always one to commit when it came down to it. One time he had faked being shot and dealt with crutches for an entire year just to convince Vicki Vale that he wasn’t Red Robin. He had no fears that he couldn’t see this through.

Ladybug, though? A total mystery. She did nearly everything on a whim as far as he knew. She hopped from city to city fighting crime for absolutely no reason outside of boredom and made up all of her plans on the fly. No, he was a bit concerned about her ability to keep doing it.

So, he went as quickly as he possibly could. There was no rhyme or reason to what he was grabbing. He was just… putting stuff in there. There was money and three watches to help them move between dimensions, yes, but there was also a fanta orange and a copy of Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy and exactly seven pairs of socks.

… yeah, he had the necessities. Probably.

He nearly got out the door before he realized he was still in his crime-fighting gear and he quickly shucked it all off and tossed it into the tub so the blood wouldn’t track any more than it already had. He did not need to avoid Batman’s wrath only to end up on the receiving end of Alfred’s.

He pulled on the first hoodie and jeans he could grab and looked around to make sure he hadn’t left anything of importance.

Okay. Now he was ready to go.

Marinette was awkwardly bouncing the baby when Red Robin finally showed up.

… not that she would have recognized him if she hadn’t felt Kaalki hovering in his pocket. In her eyes, he was just a random white guy wearing shades in the middle of the night.

She glanced up at him and gave him an awkward smile.

“Ready?”

He smiled back and held out two watches. Neither fit baby Robin so she prepared herself to choke out a literal baby holy fuck what even was her life.

“Which dimension should we go to?”

“Preferably one without miraculi,” Marinette said. “I don’t want to know what happens if there’s two of the same god in a dimension.”

He nodded slowly. “Probably best if Batman doesn’t exist, either, he’d probably notice my existence.”

“... so… no heroes at all?”

“Looks like we’re going cold turkey,” Red Robin said in a tone that was probably supposed to be joking but just came out flat.

She pushed herself to her feet and waited as he scrolled through the millions of dimensions.

Finally, he came upon one and she added the coordinates to her and Robin’s watches.

She readied Robin’s watch against his neck and tried to ignore the kid’s sudden squirminess.

“3… 2… 1…”

They were gone in a whirl of blue light.

~~~~~

@nathleigh @peachmuses

#yes i wrote timari parenting dami #for no reason #while in the middle of a completely different fic #but listen #... its cute??#yeah no i have no excuse #i just wanted to write cute things ;-;#into the unkown #maribat #timari #timmari #timinette #shutterbug #tim drake #red robin #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug

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andilovetowrite · 3 years

Text

Webs and Awkwardness P.P

Peter Parker x Bestfriend! Reader

Summary: Walking into your best friend’s room to find out he is Spiderman is terrible as it is, but what comes after is even worse, when Peter rips your t-shirt in the process…

Based on this prompt

Warnings: A couple of bad words (Mostly from May) and a little suggestiveness. Supportive Aunt May, and flustered Peter ;)

Word Count: 1.9k words

Posted May 2, 2021

Here is my Masterlist, in case you wanted to check it out :)

“Hey Aunt May!” you greeted, walking into the apartment. She smiled, hugging you.

“Good evening Y/N!” She gestured over to the pile of books in your arms. “Studying for a test?”

Nodding tiredly, you answered. “Physics...and Peter is probably the only one in the class who is passing. So I desperately need his help.”

Aunt May laughed, pointing to his room. “Thank god he is still doing his work, with being cooped up in his room all the time. Not to mention being so distant after getting that internship from that Stark guy.” She shook her head, primarily to herself. “I don’t like him too much.”

You smiled, thanking her before making your way to Peter’s room, knocking softly. There was no response. You did it again but figured Peter might be too engrossed in making something. So you went in.

And you will never forget the shock that went through your body. In the middle of the room, standing half-naked with only his boxers, was your best friend, Peter Parker. But that wasn’t what shocked you. What made you gasp was the clothing that pooled at his feet. Red and blue. Black lines crisscrossed over it. But even then, you wouldn’t overthink about red and blue clothes. The mask in his palm,, though said everything.

“It’s not-uh not what it looks like!” Peter shouted, haphazardly throwing the mask to the side. It didn’t help his case because the second he threw it, a light red light illuminated the ceiling, showing the iconic logo we all knew. “I’m uh, not- I promise it is not- this it just a- Oh god”,, Peter rambles on, kicking the suit back so harshly that it hits the wall hard, making a small dent before it crumples to the floor.

You could feel your eyes widen, looking at Peter in amazement and then the mask. Almost comically, you come closer, observing his face and then shamelessly looking up and down his body, eyes zeroing on his abs.

“You’re Spiderman. Peter Parker is Spiderman. My best friend is Spiderman.” You say slowly, trying to get it into your head. Peter nodded, trying to judge what you were going to say or do.

“I-”

“It all makes sense now!” you exclaimed, sitting down on the bed, knowing if you kept standing, you were going to pass out or something.

“What?” Peter asked eyebrows scrunched up. Out of all the possible things you could’ve said, that was the least expected one. The most expected one was a hit to the face,, and maybe then you would run out of the apartment.

“It’s- uh- now I understand. How you magically got rid of your glasses,”

“I got contacts”, Peter interjected, biting his lip.

“-no,, you didn’t. I asked May where you got your contacts from,, and she told me you didn’t have any.” Peter looked down, knowing that story went for a toss.

“Then how you also got abs overnight, as well as your overall muscles”, you said, gesturing to his body. Peter became bright red but made no move to put anything on.

“After that, you would never answer my calls in the night. For a bit, I thought you were ignoring me or at some girl’s house-”

“I wasn’t!” Peter shouted, then looked back at the door to see if his aunt heard him.

You nodded, thinking of other things. “Plus, you never speak about the internship, even though it was what you did most of the time.”

Peter hung his head down, now feeling bad about not telling you. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just couldn’t let people know who I am and then if they saw Spiderman coming into your house-the-they might start targeting you-an-and you might get hurt. I-I couldn’t live with myself if that happened to you be-because of me.”

You nodded, the seriousness of the situation hitting you suddenly. But in real life, it hit Peter. Well, you hit Peter.

“HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL ME? BAD GUYS TARGETTING ME IS BAD AS IT IS, BUT THEM TRYING TO KILL YOU?! YOU COULD HAVE ASKED ME FOR HELP! I SWEAR TO GOD PETER PARKER, YOU WOULD WISH THAT THE BAD GUYS HURT YOU AFTER WHAT I DO TO YOU!” you walked closer threateningly. Peter’s eyes widened. No matter who he went against, even if it was Captain America, no one would be more frightening than you when you were mad.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry”, Peter mumbled, moving back further. He didn’t even realize that he was halfway up the wall at this point, his face touching the ceiling.

“Get down here Parker!”

“Okay”, Peter squeaked, jumping down with impressive skills. “I’m s-” He went to apologize again but was cut off by you.

“Come here”, you said softly, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug, feeling his warm skin touch yours.

“Oh, this is nice”, he mumbled, hugging you back.

“You know how I would feel if someone came and told me my best friend died because of saving a city? Do you know how much I would stress out each night about you being Spiderman and fighting people twice or thrice your age?”

“Yeah”, Peter whispered against your skin, lips tickling your neck. “That’s why I didn’t tell you.”

You sighed softly. “But do you know how much it would hurt to know that you got hurt when I couldn’t help you? Just because I didn’t know that you were Spiderman?”

Peter stayed quiet, but his grip on you tensed up, clutching you tightened.

You pulled back, looking him in his chocolate eyes. “Please don’t keep things to yourself. Not with pressure like this. I know the Hulk or Iron Man might be there to help you, but tell me you’re alright. Just every now and then?” By this time, you could feel your throat closing, as you can feel tears prickling the sides of your eyes. Peter nodded, pulling you back in his embrace.

“I will. Plus, who will you come to to get Physics answers if I die?”

“Shut up!”, you laughed, leaving the hug but keeping your arm around his shoulder.

“So Mr Spiderman, how do you stick to buildings? And shoot webs? Do you make webs? Oh my god, are you part spider? Do you grow legs when you are outside fighting crime?”

Peter looked confused, listening to you babble on and on, but then chuckled. “With my suit that Mr Stark made. I make my webs. No I’m not part spider and of course not!”

“Wait, can I see the webs?”, you asked, curiosity blooming in your chest.

Peter shrugged. “Sure” Going over to his desk drawer, he opened it, pulling out a couple fancy technology gadgets. “Here, just press on this button.”

Gingerly taking it from him, you touched the button, not expecting such a light, featherlike touch to make it go on. Suddenly, a white stringy web hit Peter’s hand, jerking him towards you.

“Woah!”, he exclaimed as he banged into you.

“I’m sorry!”

“No probl-” he began, as he pushed himself off you, but one part stuck. His right hand was situated right on your chest, stuck with his web.

“Peter! Get your hand off!”

His mouth opened and closed, looking like a fish. “Uh-I’m sorry, you just- I grabbed onto the first thing, I mean, I didn’t try and grab your boob, oh god- I just-here let me-damn it, two hours.”

“What are you talking about? What’s two hours?” You asked, trying to concentrate on anything but Peter’s calloused hand on your thin shirt.

“Uh, I don’t know how to tell you this but uh-”, Peter looked incredulously at, his hand, quickly glancing at the ceiling. “The web takes two hours to dissolve. And I just ran out of web dissolver…The only one left is on the roof”

“Seriusly? Pete! You can’t...- your hand is on my boob!”

“I’m sorry, I promise, I can’t feel anything. Well, no, I can feel something, but that’s not what I meant! Um-”

You sighed, looking up to see Peter’s face close to your’s. “You’re Spiderman! Just pull your hand off or something?”

“Uh-ye-yeah sure”, he said hesitantly. Giving a couple small tugs, nothing came off, but then he got annoyed, and yanked his hand back.

Not the best decision.

Instead of his hand coming off the shirt, the shirt came with him, tearing off your body. Gasping, you threw your hand to your chest, covering yourself up. “Peter!”

“Oh god, oh my god!” Peter blushed hard, the pink going all the way across his body as he looked at the cut up cloth in his palm. As you tried to find something to cover yourself up with, Peter’s ears twitched.

“Shit!”, he whispered, running over to me. “May is coming here!”

“How the heck can you hear that?”

“Super-hearing…”

“Of course”

“Y/N! May can’t know I’m spiderman! She won’t allow me to do these things otherwise…”

You stuttered, looking around the room. “Quick! Hide the suit.”

Running over to his mask, you grabbed it, throwing it under the bed, while he jumped up and hid his suit in the small slot on the roof. Hearing her footsteps now, you ran over to Peter’s hoodie, but it was too late.

May opened the door. “Hey guys, you want some Indian for dinne- What are you doing!?”

You couldn’t blame her. It looked bad. Peter without any clothes but his boxers on, and your shirt torn open, revealing your red, lacy bra underneath.

“We-we aren’t doing- any-anything May!”, you half yelled, embarrassment flooding your body.

“Yeah, no, we are not- she doesn’t-uh”, Peter said, looking at my torn shirt as he quickly pushed me behind him, not wanting to show his aunt what I wa wearing.

“Um, okay. Kids, I don’t know what’s happening, but just, uh, use protection and don’t be too loud-”

“MAY!” Peter said, hands covering his face. “We aren’t doing anything!”

“Uh huh. Sure….”, she said. “With how much you talk about how beautiful Y/N is, I can’t believe it took this long for you to tell her. But maybe don’t sleep on the first date? I mean, I know you are 19, and it’s your decision.. ”

“NO MAY!” Peter said, glancing back at me, cheeks flooded with pink.

“Also, perhaps lend Y/N your shirt or something. Considering you ruined hers? And wear some clothes when you get out.”

With that, she left the room, winking at me and mouthing to Peter, “It’s under the bathroom sink…”

Peter groaned, falling on his bead, head still in his arms. “I’m so sorry for May! I don’t know what- I didn’t mean to- your shirt-”

You laughed, pulling Peter’s midtown hoodie over your ripped shirt. “It’s honestly fine Pete. Let’s go eat some food. And maybe after that, you can ask me out on that date you’ve been meaning to do?”

Smirking slightly, you walked out of the room, kissing Peter on the cheek and taking pride in leaving him behind in his room, stuttering a nervous “Yes”.

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

I hope this is good, and I did the story justice anon! Thanks so much for requesting this, and I would love to have a couple more to write since you all have such good ideas :) Until next time!

#peter parker fluff #peter parker x bestfriend reader #peter parker x reader imagine #peter parker angst #spiderman #aunt may #tom holland #peter parker x reader smut #angst #smut #lime #confessions #peter parker x reader headcannon #peter parker x y/n

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rowanaelinn · 3 years

Text

Fire on Fire - chapter four

chapter three // chapter five

Aelin slammed her car door harder than necessary, sighing once she was comfortably sitting in her seat. She buckled her seatbelt and turned her head to the man sitting next to her in the passenger seat. "I'm not going to buckle your seatbelt for you, you're an adult, not a child."

Arobynn just chuckled and did it himself. “Always a delight to deal with you, darling.”

Aelin had to take a deep breath or she would snap. Getting mad at him wouldn’t work, it never did. It would just make him mad at her, and it wasn’t worth it. “Call someone else next time, then.” She said as she started driving. Aelin wished she had drunk a coffee before or taken anything that could help her stay awake. Arobynn lived one hour away from this bar, the night was going to be very long. “I forgot, you have no one else.”

“Be careful how you speak to me, Aelin.” His words were harsh even if they were slurred by the alcohol. Aelin hated the part of herself that was scared at his threat. So she didn’t answer, focused on the road, and put on some music to try to distract herself.

Aelin thought about last night, how bad her night of work was until she danced with Elide. Aelin had always loved to dance, she remembered all the times she forced her parents to sit for an hour so she could show them everything she learned that week at the dance studio.

When she turned eight, Aelin started doing dance competitions and she was good, very good, actually. She went to nationals twice, the first time she ended up in fourth place, not good enough. The second time she was in second place, it was better but still not good enough. Aelin Ashryver Galathynius was born with the need to be the best at everything she did, she didn’t understand why. Maybe it was because her parents had always been first in their own way and Aelin wanted to be like them.

After an injury at fifteen, she had to stop dancing. She still remembered crying in Aedion’s arms for an entire night. If Aelin thought about it, she would realize that’s the moment everything started to go downhill in her life. But she tried to avoid thinking about it, if she didn’t think about the problems, they didn’t exist.

“Why are you dressed like a whore, anyway?” Arobynn broke the silence and Aelin’s heart clenched. She hadn’t been hurt when Rowan made comments on her outfit because as much as she hated him, she knew he respected women and just wanted to hurt her. Arobynn never had an ounce of respect for women, he had proven it multiple times, that’s what made his comment horrible. “Not that I’m complaining in any way.” Aelin’s eyes left the road for two seconds to see him with a disgusting smile on his lips and his eyes fixed on her thighs. It took all her self-control not to vomit right there.

“I was working,” she simply said. She didn’t have to justify herself but Arobynn didn’t like to be ignored.

“You work at a strip club now?” He snorted. “Why do you even want to work? I told you I could pay for everything you need.”

He did, and it had been generous. Too generous from Arobynn to come without a price. “And I told you I could do it on my own.”

“Well, you don’t seem to earn a lot of money wherever you work since I’m still the one paying for your college tuition.” He said with a light tone but Aelin caught what he really meant. You’re only here thanks to me, be grateful.

“How many times do I have to thank you for it?” She asked with a sharp tone. Aelin had never been very good at staying calm. “I told you I would pay you back-”

“Bullshit,” he tapped his foot on the floor of the car, almost screaming. Unusual for him to lose his temper. When Arobynn was mad he favored hurting people with words. It was very rare for him to be physically violent. She jumped in spite of herself. “Do I look like I care about the money?” No, of course not. The money he used to pay for her college was like pocket money for a ten-year-old child, he didn’t see the difference in his bank account before and after paying for it. “I don’t understand why you want to work and live in a shitty apartment when you could be cared for and live in a manor.”

“ Your manor.” She said coldly.

“Yes, mine. How is that a problem?” He was angry, Aelin could see it at the way his hands clenched on his tights, the way his right leg kept fidgeting, or at the way he pronounced every word that came out of his mouth as if they were full of venom.

“You are my professor, Arobynn. I am your fucking student and not only this but I am also your teaching assistant. Do I really need to explain how wrong it is?”

“I am trying to take care of you, Aelin. I would expect you to be nicer.”

“Right now I am the one taking care of you!” She screamed, done with his bullshit. If someone had told Aelin five years ago that her favorite author was like this, she wouldn’t have believed them. “Even if I don’t want to.”

“I’m waiting for the day you crawl for my help, Aelin.”

She didn’t answer, instead, she kept her eyes on the road. She thought about her favorite books and how happy they made her. Maybe she would read one when she gets back home, it was too late to sleep anyway. Twenty minutes later, she parked her car right in front of his house. It was big, too big for a single man.

Aelin looked at her professor as he unbuckled his belt. “Have you graded the papers we gave you last month? Students will need them this week.” She asked but knew the answer. He just smirked at her and winked.

“You know me better than this, sweetheart.”

Aelin sighed and got out of her car, following Arobynn. He wasn’t walking straight and somewhere in the back of her mind she hoped he wouldn’t get hurt. Aelin knew Arobynn wasn’t a good man, he was a real piece of shit. But he had been there for her when she was at her worst, he didn’t do a lot but he had been there. He gave her opportunities she would never have had alone. And even if his interest in her was bad, he believed in her. He read every single one of her stories, gave her advice to become the best writer she could be. He let her access his contacts. If she ever made it on the best-seller list, it would be a little bit thanks to this man.

He opened his door and Aelin didn’t wait before going to his study, not caring about what he did. She quickly found the folder full of papers. She went through all of them and left hers and Lysandra’s on Arobynn’s desk. She couldn’t grade them, even if she wished she could grade Lysandra’s, but Arobynn didn’t want her to play favorites.

She turned but found Arobynn watching her at the entrance of the study. He had a glass of whiskey in his hand, of course, he would start drinking again the minute he got home. He walked towards her and she was struck by the size difference between the two of them. He pinned her with this lover’s gaze. She looked at the face she once found beautiful and swallowed. She wanted to move but couldn’t.

“What would I do without you, sweet Aelin?” He purred, letting one of his knuckles caress her cheek and before he could brush her lips she turned her head to the side. This gave him just more room to lean in and place a kiss on her cheekbone, his lips were soft and warm. Slowly, Aelin pulled back. “Tell me what I have to do for you to let me lay the world at your feet.”

Aelin said nothing as she walked away from him.

The moment Aelin entered her bathroom she fell on her knees and threw her guts up in the toilet. She could still feel Arobynn’s hand brushing her thigh in the car, could still feel his eyes on her or his hot breath on her ear.

When she closed her eyes she could remember the first time she saw these grey eyes four years ago and how different it felt to have them on her.

Aelin couldn’t hear the music over her friends’ laugh and her own.

When a waiter passed her she took the opportunity to take another glass of champagne and give him her empty glass. Her head was already spinning in the most delicious way.

"Ten bucks says he goes back with him tonight," Nehemia said, her eyes fixed on Aedion and the handsome blond man he was talking to. They were at a charity event, Aelin had agreed to accompany her parents only if she could bring her friends. Her three friends practically lived at home, so they agreed.

“Ten bucks?” Aelin asked as she took a sip of her drink. “How boring you are. Five hundred says they make out in a cupboard here.”

“You’re the only rich girl here, you know that?” Sam asked as he took her under his arm, forcing her head to rest on his chest. Aelin laughed loudly as she pushed him away, trying not to spill her drink on either of them.

“You are so loud, Aelin,” Lysandra complained but she wasn’t better. If anyone drank as much as Aelin did it was her best friend.

“I think our little Aelin,” Sam said, his voice full of fake seriousness, as he took her head in both hands, Aelin giggled at his fake frown. “Is slightly drunk.” Sam finished, and before Aelin could say anything he bent to kiss her. She lost herself in him, putting her arms around his neck. After a few seconds, they pulled apart but Aelin rested her head in his neck, breathing deeply in his lavender scent. She would kick his ass later for using her soap.

“Fireheart?” Aelin heard her mother call, she turned around but tripped on her long dress. Sam caught her before she could fall and the group of four friends exploded with laughter. They had all had a little too much to drink if they needed so little to laugh.

Aelin hid her glass behind her back, remembering that her parents had forbidden her to drink. They didn’t want their sixteen years old daughter to be seen doing inappropriate things. Sam took the glass discreetly and she knew he would get rid of it as soon as possible. Aelin's parents would never suspect Aelin's perfect boyfriend of helping her disobey her parents.

What her parents didn't know was that her three friends were her partners in crime, especially Sam.

“Aelin, honey.” Her mother said as she stopped in front of her. Sam’s hand rested quietly on her hip, a silent reminder that no matter how the conversation turned out, Aelin was not to get upset.

But Evalin was not alone. "My dear, I'm sure you know Mister Hamel?" She asked, knowing full well that Aelin knew him. She had dozens of copies of all his books all over her room, his writing was just amazing.

Aelin turned her head to admire her idol's face. He was handsome, for a thirty-seven years old man. If Aelin was honest, she had always had a thing for men older than her.

When her eyes met his gray ones, Aelin tensed. Absolutely everything about this man screamed power. From the way he stood to the little smile on his face as he held out his hand for Aelin to place hers in. His hand was warm but not soft, she could feel several scars. He placed a kiss on the back of her hand before saying softly, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Galathynius."

The memory of that night made her throw up a second time as she fought against tears. Everything about this memory was painful. She had worked so hard to keep these emotions locked inside of her for years, she couldn’t break now. Not after everything she did to forget.

“You got drunk?” A deep voice asked and Aelin whipped her head toward that voice only to find a shirtless Rowan, arms crossed, watching her from his doorframe. She didn’t secretly marvel at his muscles like she usually did whenever he was shirtless, tonight, another proof of how bad she was feeling. “Is that why you’re so late?” His voice was hard, the same voice he usually used whenever she was around.

“Were you worried?” She asked, sarcastically. She didn’t have the strength to fight now, and yet… She couldn’t help when he was around.

“Your cousin and best friend were worried sick. Are you so selfish that you don’t care?”

“I’ll talk about that with them, then. I don’t need you here.” Her voice was as hard as his, while she usually was more teasing. Aelin saw him frown at her tone but she didn’t give a shit, she needed to be left alone. “But if you want to know, I wasn’t getting drunk, no.”

“Then what were you doing?” He snapped and Aelin didn’t understand him. Why did he want to know that? Shouldn’t he have been happy she wasn’t here? Why did he even come into the bathroom? Aelin supposed he heard her throw up, it’s not like she was a very discreet person. Did he come here just to mock her? “What has put you in such a pathetic state?”

“Get the out,” her voice was weak, trying not to think about one of the worst nights of her life. You look pathetic , Arobynn had told her two years ago. But Aelin couldn’t help it, everything about that night disgusted her. When she looked up at Rowan she thought she saw concern in his eyes but she probably was hallucinating because a second later, his eyes were cold as ice.

He laughed, even if his laugh didn’t have any humor in it. “You know what, Aelin? Keep throwing up all you want. You’re worthless.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

There was a long pause and when Aelin thought he wouldn’t say anything else, he opened his mouth. “I understand why your parents cut you off. Who would want a disappointment like you as their daughter?”

“Don’t ever talk to me again.” She said silently, and when he closed the door, Aelin let the tears run down her face. For the first time in his life, Rowan hurt Aelin.

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taglist:

@sheharahu // @morganofthewildfire // @thestoriesyoutell // @fromthelibraryofemilyj // @swankii-art-teacher // @itsforeverinnocent-blog // @becarefuloflove // @imnotsogoodatthis // @rowaelinismyotp // @a-court-of-milkandhoney // @feysand-loml // @surielandiareendgame // @live-the-fangirl-life // @story-scribbler // @loves-books // @fangirlprincess09 // @theysayitscrazy

#rowan x aelin #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin #throne of glass fanfiction #fire on fire #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius

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write-ur-wrongs · 3 years

Text

Of Monsters and Men (pt. 1)

Summary: Geralt and Jaskier travel to a small seaside village after being hired to take care of a monster that has been terrorizing the villagers for months. However when they arrive, Geralt finds that the monster in question isn’t so easy to kill.

A/N: This was getting to be quite lengthy, so I decided to split it into parts. This is the story I wanted to write when I first started watching the Witcher on Netflix and I am nervous and excited to finally be sharing it here!! Like with all my fics, I try to keep my Y/N has physically non-descript as possible, she/her and vibe are the only descriptors. I’ve also not proof-read but will edit errors as I see them post post lol. I hope y’all enjoy this!! Your feedback is always welcome :’)

this is approx. 2200 words and is largely setting the scene. I expect this to story to be told in no more than 3 parts.

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When Geralt and Jaskier rode up to the quiet coastal village, they were struck by how calm and peaceful it was. The sound of waves lapping against the rocky shoreline, the rhythmic bumping of boats against the docks, and the soft clatter of driftwood windchimes melted together to create an atmosphere that soothed Jaskier to his core. He found himself gaping at the sights that surrounded him in wonder; truly taken by the way setting sun cast a golden glow on everything and painted the cloud-laced sky in rich hues of pink and orange.

“This place…” he sighed theatrically, waving his arms around, “is wonderful! Geralt are you not moved by the sight of it all? Does your soul not sing out! Oh, Geralt! Wow!”

The witcher only rolled his eyes at his friend’s dramatics. Jaskier was always so blown away by the simplest things and it both amused and annoyed Geralt. Yes, the sky and the sea were beautiful sights, but more importantly, they were merciless vehicles of danger, death, and destruction; and Geralt knew better than to romanticize things that were, at their core, dangerous.

Sensing the bard’s eyes on him, Geralt gave him a hum of acknowledgement hoping it would be enough to satisfy Jaskier’s need for collective appreciation. It was, as he dreaded, insufficient.

“Come now, Geralt!” he enthused, “take that stick out your arse for a moment and appreciate the sights and sounds of this charming inlet! Listen to the sea! The chimes, Geralt! Listen to how the wind tickles the –”

“For fucks sake, Jaskier! It’s a fucking port city just like any other. This place is one bad storm away from being wiped out by that scenic sea of yours!”

“Yeesh,” Jaskier said letting out a low whistle. “Was it the stick in the arse bit? Too far?”

“Jask-”

“- because look, you are very stoic but – and I mean this as a compliment Geralt, so don’t get your leather in a –”

“Jaskier!” Geralt interrupted gruffly as he dismounted Roach with a huff. “Will you please shut up! Let’s just find the stables and the inn and get this over with.” Without waiting for Jaskier to catch up to him, he led his mare deeper into town.

Jaskier, refusing to let Geralt’s gruff exterior get him down, dismounted gracefully and lightly jogged to meet up with him, his lute clacking loudly against his back as he ran.

“Remind me again what dreadful little creature brings us out to this enchanting harbor?” he asked, still jogging a little to keep up with the witcher’s long strides.

“Don’t know yet.”

“Oh, ho-ho! A mystery? Always makes for a good song. What do we know so far?”

Geralt stopped and turned slightly towards the bard before speaking.

“Apparently a creature has been killing and dismembering men in town. They are being killed at all hours, bodies found in town, at sea, or out in the surrounding forests. Seems nowhere is safe.” Geralt let his cat-like eyes linger on the bard’s horrified expression for a moment before turning back and keeping on the path into town, shaking his head at Jaskier’s queasiness.

“Yeesh – Geralt! You’re not serious! Why would you bring me with you!?” Jaskier picked up the pace, suddenly wanting to be closer to his friend.

“You invited yourself,” Geralt said, trying to contain his smile, “as always.”

“Of course, I invited myself! You’re far to proud to admit you’d miss me.” Jaskier retorted. “Let’s get these horses to the stables, get rooms, and find food so that you can sort this out as quickly as inhumanly possible,” he said, speaking quickly and with a light waver, trying to pretend the quaint seaside village around him didn’t now leave him chilled to the bone.

“Hmm,” Geralt chuckled, happy to have managed to scare the bard into silence, at least for the time being.

The local pub was busier than Jaskier had expected when they rode into town. Seems the reason the village was so peaceful upon arrival was because everyone had already made their way to the bar. Fortunately, he’d managed to nab them a table by the stone fireplace; after a day of riding alongside the sea, Jaskier was desperate for a cold ale and a warm fire.

“Alrighty then, Geralt,” Jaskier said, holding his hands up to the hearth, “what have we got so far?”

“Not much,” he replied, tearing apart the loaf of bread a barmaid had brought over moments prior, “a couple people stopped me at the inn to ask me if I was here to kill the beast, but they didn’t have any information to offer besides the fact that it was a constant threat.”

“Well, maybe you’ll have more luck here – I mean look around, you’d think the whole town’s come to drink!”

“Port cities, Jask,” Geralt said, letting his gaze scan the room slowly, “the people here either spend their days at the mercy of the sea or waiting for their loved ones to come home. You drink for sorrow and for hope of a bright tomorrow.”

“That was poetic as fuck, Geralt! My influence?” he teased, shooting the witcher a cheeky grin, who merely grunted distractedly in reply.

Now ignoring his still-talking friend, Geralt’s eyes had landed on the two women working behind the bar. One was talking excitedly and kept casting quick glances toward the bard, blushing brightly when she caught his eye, while the other was watching Geralt with inquisitive eyes.

“… I tell you Geralt the more you allow yourself to – oh! Speaking of which, here come a few now!” Jaskier flourished, winking enthusiastically at the blushing barmaid who was making her way towards them sheepishly.

Geralt sat back in his chair and rolled his eyes, already tired of the flirting he was about to witness. To his surprise and great pleasure, Jaskier got up and met her halfway, leaving him in peace with his thoughts.

Having brought his attention back down to the bread before him, Geralt didn’t notice that he had company until she was right in front of him. Sensing her presence, he shot his gaze up quickly, and found her staring at his wolf medallion with a quirked brow.

“Forgive me,” she started, her deep, velvet-like voice washing over Geralt like morning sun after a cold night, “but you’re… a witcher?”

“I am,” he replied, giving her a crooked smile, his own voice, low and gravely and smooth, not going unnoticed by the woman before him. “Geralt, of Rivia.”

“Oh fuck,” she said, with a breathy sort of laugh, “so you’re not a witcher, you’re the Witcher then, aren’t you?”

Geralt let out a low and modest grunt, shaking his head at the comment. He thought himself immune to the scrutiny and awe that came with being the White Wolf, having carried the title for so long, but there was something about the way she was looking at him that left him shy.

“I’m,” he faltered needing to stop to clear his throat, having made the mistake to look her in the eyes, “just a witcher. Really.”

“Well, they don’t send you out for just anything, do they? For you to be out here in our little hamlet…” she squinted at him with a small tilt of her head, “we must be under some kind of threat. Should I be worried?”

“I was hoping you’d tell me, –” he stopped, waiting for her to introduce herself.

“Y/N,” she replied quickly, offering Geralt a warm smile despite the fact that she’d just crossed her arms, “and I mean we do get the odd ruffian coming through town. They always make a mess of things, don’t they? Beyond that, well, I suppose alcohol does breed violence in some,” she gave a light, one shouldered shrug, “but that’s not the kind of crime that would reach your ears.”

Geralt hummed thoughtfully, taking his time to consider Y/N’s words. She seemed almost too friendly, and there was something about her that both drew him in and had him putting up his guard.

“A monster has been picking the men of the village off one by one.” Leaning back into his chair to put some distance between them. “I’m surprised you wouldn’t be aware, considering,” he nodded towards the bar, “your job here.”

“Meaning what?” she retorted, wearing a playful smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“Only that you must hear a lot,” he gestured vaguely to the crowd surrounding them, “and see a lot, doing what you do. I would have expected that the disappearance and dismemberment of men in town would be something of note.”

“Well,” Y’N tsked, “I’m sorry to say that you’ve been brought out here on something of a fool’s errand. There’s no monster here; the tale of disappearing men has been told here for months. It started with a woman, too embarrassed to admit that the man who impregnated her left her overnight, telling everyone that a creature from the forest killed him. From there the story grew wilder with every retelling.”

“Hm,” Geralt hummed, watching Y/N carefully with narrow eyes, “I was told dismembered body parts were turning up, consistently, after each disappearance, and that they were being identified as belonging to the latest victim. Besides, I was hired to come here. Why would someone pay me coin to rid a town of ghost?”

“People struck by tragedy will claim to see many things, Sir Geralt,” she replied softly, “not all of them will be true. A dead fish floating at sea, a creature mauled by wolves by the roads, rotten meats abandoned by vendors…” she shrugged, “the mind will twist the truth in order to bring comfort. Who hired you?”

She added that last question quickly, and Geralt could tell it was calculated. Sensing this, he only replied with a quirked brow and a tilt of his head.

Y/N betrayed no sense of frustration when she realized the Witcher wasn’t going to elaborate. Instead, her eyes softened, and she smiled at Geralt with what he perceived as pity.

“Look, the truth is that there is no monster here. Isn’t that right Thalia?”

“Sorry, what?” Thalia, who had just walked back over the Geralt’s table with a tray of ales in her hands, was breathlessly giggling at something Jaskier had whispered in her ear. As she and Jaskier placed four ales on the table, Y/N took a seat across from the Witcher and quickly explained got the two up to speed.

“Oh goodness, that! I can not believe our town’s little lore made it to your ears, Sir Geralt!” She said with wide eyes as she snuggled up next to Jaskier, clinking her tankard with his before taking a generous sip.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Jaskier coughed on his ale, “you’re telling me there’s no monster here? That we might actually be able to enjoy a little rest and relaxation here without any horrible monster-killing business? Geralt this is good news!” he exclaimed, smacking his free hand on the table for emphasis.

Geralt only growled out a hum in response, never taking his eyes off Y/N.

“I’ll admit,” Thalia continued, seemingly unaware of the tension between the Witcher and her friend, “it’s scary to think about – you know, murder – but when you actually think about who disappears, it’s not difficult to see the truth.”

At this, Geralt turned his fierce gaze away from Y/N. “What do you mean, ‘who disappears’?”

“O-only that the men who leave aren’t really the type that anyone would miss.” She replied, stuttering a little against her best efforts to not recoil at Geralt’s inhuman eye-contact. “They were mean, violent types. The kind of man that would get crueler the more he drank. Just, awful, evil men, right Y/N?”

Y/N nodded quickly in agreement, taking a slow sip of her ale. “Good riddance.”

“Exactly!” Thalia agreed, clinking her glass to Y/N’s.

“Hell, I’ll drink to that,” Jaskier laughed, before picking his lute up off the floor. “What do you say ladies, a song?”

Thalia cheered loudly and encouraged the rest of the patrons to listen to the bard, letting them all know that he was in fact, the one who traveled with the great White Wolf. Jaskier was positively floating from the adoration as he danced around the pub, pulling cheers and applause after every song.

All the while, Geralt never took his eyes off of Y/N, who had retreated back to the bar after finishing her drink.

Geralt wasn’t sure what to believe. He had a strange feeling about this place from the moment he and the bard arrived, and it frustrated him to no end that even after hours in town, he was no closer to understanding the source of his discomfort. One thing was for certain, something about the story he heard here tonight did not add up, and he definitely didn’t trust its source.

Y/N was standing behind the bar washing glasses, but she wasn’t focused on the task at hand. Instead, her eyes were trained on the crowd before her. Geralt watched her as she scanned the pub with calm, slow-moving eyes that jumped from patron to patron.

The witcher was distracted for a moment when Jaskier sauntered into his sightline, singing a loud chorus of Toss a Coin to Your Witcher. Despite himself, Geralt couldn’t help but smile at the bard, whose face was flushed from the ales and the exertion.

However, as Geralt watched Jaskier twirl across the crowded pub, something in his peripheral vision made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

Y/N had turned he head and was staring right at him with a pair of pitch-black eyes.

Like a shot, Geralt turned his gaze to the woman behind the bar – his heart beating loudly in his ears – only to find her smiling warmly at him, her eyes their normal shade.

Instinctively, Geralt brought his hand up to his wolf-head medallion, hoping it would signal the presence of some supernatural evil. But he felt nothing.

He didn’t know what she was, but she was not human.

#the witcher fanfiction #the witcher x reader #the witcher netflix #the witcher fandom #fanfiction requests #fanfiction #fanfic #the witcher series #geralt of rivia #witcher geralt #witcher fic #witcher fanfiction #witcher x reader #toss a coin to your witcher #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt x y/n #geralt x you #geralt x reader #Jaskier

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mach-speed-spin · 3 years

Text

Character design analysis: Kai Hiwatari

I’m starting this thing where I analyze character Beyblade designs and how they changed over the seasons. I’m starting with an original series character because Burst is ongoing and characters can return in future seasons (I will do also mfb since it ended)

We start with his season 1 design. From a fashion standpoint, it makes no sense. In the context of Beyblade, it fits right in. Beyblade takes suspension of disbelief and tells you to either roll with it, or just laugh at the ridiculousness of it. Kai’s design is arguably the strangest of the main cast (possibly second to Ray, but that’s debatable)

Working our way from the top down, he has 2 hair colors, bluish grey at the front and dark blue at the back. It’s styled in what I can only describe as half the quintessential shonen hair. The front is improbably spiky and is pretty long. But look at the back

It’s long, but it’s not spiky in the slightest save for it coming together at the back into something which probably has a name, I just don’t know it. Kai manages to give off “rebel” vibes, for lack of a better term, while also looking stylish. That hairstyle needs a lot of effort to keep

Moving on to his facepaint. It’s 4 blue traingles. They change slightly each season but here it looks like someone drew a triangle on a flat surface and it didn’t translate perfectly to the curved surface of a human face. The 2 top triangles are bigger and point horizontally. The bottom 2 are smaller and point diagonally. I don’t know why they were included in Kai’s design to be honest. If they wanted to give him something that made him stand out they could’ve just used the gloves or scarf. Having both plus the facepaint feels a little overblown but again, Beyblade doesn’t half ass anything

Down to his scarf. It’s most iconic appearances were in G-Revolution. Here only one end sticks out, instead of 2 like in G-Rev. It also shows no sign of being weighted. I’ll get more into it when I get to his V-Force and G-Rev designs

That sleeveless top looks terrible. It looks uncofortable and it’s a crime againts fashion. It’s also not something particularly notable about Kai. Really it’s just there so we can see his muscular arms

Speaking of his arms, look at his gloves. My favorite part of his original design, he never uses them after this season. They are implied to be weighted, but are definitely not as heavy as his scarf on G-Rev (more on that later). I love them, and they work with Kai, but Dranzer has minimal red (even though the bit-beast is all red. Go figure). They probably got rid of them because it didn’t match the aesthetic of his bey

His belt buckle looks kinda cool, but it’s not that remarkable

His pants are unreasonably baggy. I get that you’re a beyblade thief but no need to be able to carry 70+ pounds of plastic. Other than that, nothing notable

His shoes feel like a last minute addition as well. I can’t tell what they were going for, and they aren’t good, but you don’t notice that unless you specifically pay attention to his shoes (which are never the focus of any shot)

Kai in V-Force keeps the hairstyle (some slight changes but that’s due to the new animation studio)

His facepaint now consists of 4 traingles all pointing diagonally, instead of 2 poitning horizontally. Again, probably just the studio change

His scarf is gone but looks like he’s wearing a turtleneck? What? This decision genuinely baffled me. The scarf may have had its best moments in G-Rev, but it was still iconic in 2000. Almost as much as his gloves and you wouldn’t remo- oh wait

His top now has these things that go around his arm. I don’t know what they are called but I’m sure others pull off the look better than Kai does here. They kinda look like wings but giving characters wing designs would be executed better in G-Rev

The rest of his top is tight, but better than in season 1 (again, not a major part of his design)

He replaced his solid gloves for arm warmers. I would make fun of this if not for the fact that I want those arm warmers for myself. The red gloves looked better on Kai but those arm warmers would look better on me

He changed his belt buckle, but it’s not too different

Baggy pants now have these weird red parts. I don’t know how they attach

His shoes look normal now

The lack of scarf and weighted gloves is obvious. This means Kai was not wearing weights in V-Force (unless those pants are carrying rocks). Kai also seemed weaker in battles during V-Force and he was much thinner. I don’t know if this was intentional but in-universe it’s likely the consequences of the Russian arc from season 1

This doesn’t seem like much other than Kai in formal attire since he’s not training nor battling, but I still found some things in it

First the tie. It’s not very tidy. Considering Kai’s design implied he cares about his appearance this seems strange. But considering his mental state at the beginning of V-Force it’s not surprising

Second, and most importantly, he wears a single earring on his left ear. He doesn’t wear any earrings in his regular design, no matter the season. This implies that Kai only wears an earring when he’s presenting formally. Why?

Also is that eyeliner?

Kai in G-Revolution is more similar to himself in season 1 than in V-Force. His hair is longer but still kept in the same style

He has eyeliner. I don’t know why but I kinda like it

Look at his facepaint. The triangles are slightly crooked. I guess they were meant to look like bird claws a bit. It’s not bad, just strange when you’re used to straight triangles

His scarf now has both ends sticking out. It’s also weighted. Considering it cracked concrete by being cropped when Kai had his arm extended horizontally, I need someone to do math and tell me how heavy that scarf is.

He has a shirt and a jacket instead of that top he used before. Finally Kai gets sleeves. It’s a cool jacket that looks badass without looking like he was trying too hard

He wears normal (or at least normal in-universe) fingerless gloves.

His belt buckle looks like someone overlayed his season 1 and V-Force buckles into one. Small detail, but considering it’s the final season, it’s nice

Kai wearing kinda baggy pants instead of super baggy pants. I never though I’d see the day

His shoes would be normal if not for the fact that they have these red belts (are they belts?) holding the pants to them. Like all of Kai’s shoes, it’s a minor part of his design that doesn’t really stand out

Overall, Kai’s G-Revolution design is very toned down compared to previous ones. Except for the scarf not being in V-Force, the more iconic parts of it stayed consistent (hair and facepaint). He’s also buff as hell in G-Rev

Kai at the end of the series can be seen wearing this. I couldn’t get a full-body picture but he’s wearing a long coat (reminds me of the Matrix). It’s probably to hide all his wounds. Not much can be said about it other than it looks cool

#beyblade #character design analysis #kai hiwatari #beyblade overanalysis

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libraryofloveletters · 3 years

Note

ANOTHER LUKE REQUEST YES Luke x reader, y/n has always been feeling insecure about herself, mostly the way her body looks. She compares herself too much to the others; Luke notices it, and when they get home or/ are in a room of the office, he talks to her about it and begins telling her how beautiful she is, and aft they kiss, extrA fluff

Beautiful

Luke Alvez X Reader

Warnings: Fem!reader, insecurity, negative thoughts about body image, mentions of being shot, cm level of violence, mentions of alcohol and being drunk, cursing, arguing (kinda?) and crying.

Category: Angst/Fluff

Word Count: 2.7k

Author’s Note: thank you to @luke-alvez for her help :) side note, I love JJ, she was just the first person that came to head for this fic. Also, just before you go any further, you’re all beautiful <3

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Flipping through the photo album, you couldn't help but feel a bit uncertain of yourself. It was an album of your relationship with Luke, there were pictures from your first date, when he asked you to be his girlfriend, a picture from each date, and a few pictures of you, him and the team.

You got off the bed, shutting the album and returning it to its rightful place on the shelf. You stood in front of the mirror with your shirt lifted to your chest. The women you worked with were beautiful, there was no denying that and you looked nothing like them.

There was a scar on the side of your stomach from when you got shot, a few bumps and bruises that never healed right, you had normal stomach with some love handles and it never seemed to bother you until recently. You had always viewed yourself as “average” nothing above nor nothing under.

You stood there, your fingers tracing over the scar. You hadn’t noticed that Luke got home until he walked into the room.

“What are you doing baby?” he asked as he walked over, his arms wrapping around your waist as his chin rested on your shoulder. You smiled at him in the mirror, “nothing love” He noticed your hand on your scar, his fingers tracing over it.

“I like this” he mumbled into the side of your neck.

“Why?”

“Reminds me of how strong you are” he pressed a kiss into your neck.

---

You sat in the conference room with Matt when you heard Luke’s laugh. You looked over your shoulder and the smile dropped from your face when he walked in walking with JJ. He flashed you a smile and kept talking with JJ.

What does she have that you don’t? She’s skinny and blonde and more skilled than you. Maybe, she’s his type, clearly she makes him laugh and she’s-

“Y/n ? Hello? Y/n?” Matt waved his hands in front of your face, you blinked. “Yeah, what's up Matt ?” his brows furrowed, you can see his brain turning in his pretty head. You shook your head, “I just zoned out. What's up?” He turned back to the board and pointed to the map, he began explaining where the connection between the locations the unsub had been.

You couldn’t help but wander back to the thought of what she had and what you didn't. You brushed it off and turned your attention back to Matt. Emily came in with Spencer, they had Penelope on the phone. You took a look around the table, Matt was off by the board, Spencer and Emily stood beside each other while Tara flipped through the crime scene photos with Rossi and Luke stood behind JJ’s chair with his arms resting on the back of her chair.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. The slight jealous feeling subsided, but the insecurity rolled in. The recurring thought of “what does she have and I don’t” came back. Turns out Penelope’s lead was a bust so Emily sent everyone back to the hotel so you could all get some rest.

You got a ride with Matt, Luke waited for Spencer and JJ. You and Matt walked into the hotel together. He called for you as you got to your door,

“Hey, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I'm good Matt”

“I'm down the hall if you want to talk, okay ?”

“Thanks” you smiled at him and walked into your room. You fell face first into the mattress, groaning. You laid there for a few minutes before the room to your room unlocked, the laughter of JJ and Luke filled your ears once again.

“Hey baby” Luke smiled at you when he shut the door.

“What took so long?” you rolled over to look at him.

He sat on the chair at the little table, “we stopped for something to eat. I figured you and Matt stopped so I didn’t bring anything.” you nodded, you didn't stop for food nor were you hungry but he still could have brought something.

He moved over to the bed and sat beside you. His hand ran up and down your leg. “You okay? you were a little quiet today” he looks over at you, you get up off the bed and walk towards the bathroom. His hand grabs yours,

“Why are you so cold?”

“Because I'm cold. I’m going to take a shower”

“Maybe I could join you ?” he stands up, following you to the bathroom.

“No thanks” shutting the door and turning the lock.

With your back against the door, you slid down to the floor. Your knees curled up to your chest and a feeling of heaviness set in. You wanted to talk to Luke but at the same time, it seemed stupid to be jealous of him and JJ. She was married after all, wasn’t she?

The tears fell down your face, you tried to steady your breathing. On the other side of the door, sat Luke with his back against the door and his head in his hands.

---

A thud and a string of curse words is what you woke up too. Luke was hunched over, his face twisted into a painful expression.

“Are you okay ?”

“Yeah I stubbed my toe”

“Oh”

Rolling out of bed, you headed to the bathroom to get ready. During your time in the bathroom, the door to your room opened and then shut. You stuck your head out of the bathroom to find an empty room, Luke had left without you. After you got dressed, you left the room in search of Luke. Matt was stepping out of his room as you walked down the hallway.

“L/n! need a ride ?”

“Uh, I'm not sure. Have you seen Luke ?”

“He left with JJ a while ago, he stopped in here to get Spencer. I told them to go ahead without me”

“Huh, I guess I do need a ride then”

When you arrived at the station, you saw Luke and JJ stepping outside. “Hey” JJ smiled at you and Matt. “Where are you guys headed?” Matt asked them, “Garcia has an address so we decided to check it out” Matt stood and talked with them for a minute, you headed inside not wanting to hear them talk about whatever it was they were talking about.

“Morning y/n” Spencer smiled at you on your way in. “Hey Spence” you took a seat at the table, “where are we at with the motive ?” you took a sip of coffee from a cup that had Luke’s name on it.

“Well, it seems to be a white male in his 20s. Unhealthy obsession with women, mostly coddled by his mother and hatred for men, probably abusive father or a boyfriend for his mother’s.” Spencer spoke while he looked over the photos pinned to the board.

“He’s angry with his mother. Probably for not standing up for him, you can tell by the overkill but he also took his time afterwards, he has remorse” you spoke as you flipped through the autopsy report.

“I thought so too. He cleaned her wounds, got rid of the blood and changed her clothes before wrapping her in a sheet and leaving her on the bed. The men are shot in the head and tossed aside”

“Yeah. Oh, where did Penelope send Luke and JJ?” you asked Spencer

“The unsub’s mother's house. He’s speeding up, Tara think she’s going to be his next target”

You and Spencer worked in silence, taking a few calls from Penelope and arranging for the patrol officers to reach the house for backup. You and Spencer were cleared to fly but not for active duty since you both got caught in a house explosion during the last case. You both needed to take it easy and not overexert yourselves.

Soon enough, everyone started to arrive back at the station and of course, Luke and JJ are right beside each other. Emily informed you and Spencer that the unsub had shot himself. It was quiet in the conference room, the rustling of papers was the only sound. Emily suggested that everyone head back to the hotel and get some rest, and that she'll see you all for dinner.

Luke headed back with Spencer, Emily, JJ and Tara, leaving you and Matt at the station. Matt was on the phone with Kristy and you were putting the last of the papers in the boxes.

“I should be home tomorrow” Matt tells her

“Mhm sounds good, I love you” Kristy says over the phone

“I love you too” and the line goes silent.

“That’s sweet” you smile at him, he chuckles. “So are you and Luke” you raise your eyebrows and give him a tight lipped smile, “yeah, me and Luke”

“Let me drive, you drove yesterday and this morning” you waited for him to give you the keys

“Promise not to kill me?” he chuckled before throwing the keys to you

“Haha, very funny Simmons, get in the car”

The drive back was the most normal you’ve felt this whole case. You and Matt talked, he was telling you about the kids and what he was thinking of getting Kristy for her birthday. You enjoyed Matt’s company, he was like a brother to you, he always had your back. The two of you got back in time for dinner, meeting everyone in the lobby.

---

“I think I'm gonna head back now” you smiled at them.

“You’re sure you don’t want to join us for drinks ?” Tara asked you, her hand on your shoulder, you nodded.

Heading towards the hotel, you felt a hand grab your arm. Luke was behind you.

“You okay?”

“Just tired” you lied to him.

He let you go, no questions asked. You watched him jog back to the group before heading into the hotel.

12:36am, the clock read as Luke tumbled into the room.

“Luke ?” you sat up, Luke stumbled towards you. “Are you drunk?” you shouldn’t have even asked, you could smell the alcohol on him.

“What’s your problem ?” he mumbled as he fell onto the bed.

You stood up, “What do you mean?”

“You’ve been grumpy this whole case. You barely talked to me the whole time we’ve been here. You locked me out of the bathroom. You didn’t cuddle me last night” he pouted as he sat up.

“Luke you’re drunk. Go to bed” you weren't in the mood to discuss why you’ve been upset with Luke, especially with a drunk Luke.

“Y/n, c’mon. What’s wrong ? and I’m not drunk, I'm tipsy” he rubbed his eyes, looking up at you.

“We’ll talk when we get home” you muttered as you tried to get him back into bed

“No. I want to talk now” he stood up.

The tension in the room was heavy, it was very clear that something was wrong but neither of you said anything. His hand reached up to cradle your face but you pulled away. “Why won’t you let me touch you?” his eyebrows furrowed and head slightly bent to the right.

“Why don’t you go touch JJ instead?” you uttered, looking away from him. You hadn’t meant to say it but it slipped out of your mouth.

“Is that why you’ve been upset ? You’re jealous of JJ ?” his finger pulled your chin towards him, forcing you to look at him. Once again, you pulled away.

“Did I say I was jealous ?”

He shook his head.

“Then don’t assume that I am”

“y/n, wait I'm-” he started, you scoffed. “Save it. I don’t care” you picked up your bag and walked out of the room. It was nearly 1am and you had just stormed out of your room. Maybe not the smartest idea but it is what it is.

----

The entire flight back, you didn’t speak to Luke. You sat beside Tara, your head leaning on her shoulder, in and out of sleep. You took a ride with her back to the apartment, still avoiding Luke.

She pulled up in front of the building. “Hey,” she rested her hand on yours before you got out.

“I don't know what’s going on between you and Luke, but if you need to talk or have a drink or just get out of the apartment, I’m just a phone call away. Okay?”

You smiled at her and nodded, “Thanks, thanks for the ride too. Text me so I know you got home” you hopped out of the car and walked up to the apartment.

The moment the door opened, you were overwhelmed with tears. Your back hit the wall as you slid down to the floor. The memories of the last week started flooding even no matter how much you tried to push them away.

He spent every minute with her, thought you were jealous of her. Maybe you are, maybe she’s what he wants and he just settled for you because he couldn't have her. Maybe you aren’t enough.

Luke crouched down in front of you and placed his hands on your cheeks. You hadn't heard the door unlock or Luke come in.

“Baby, talk to me. What’s going on ? Are you okay ? You hurt?” his eyes moved up and down your body, his brows furrowed. He tried to figure out what was happening.

“Am I not enough ?” you managed to say between tears and sniffles, his eyes never left your face. You continued to speak,

“Is she what you want ? but you can’t have her so you’re with me? It’s okay if I'm your second choice, I understand. I’m not skinny or blonde or pretty or whatever it is you see in Jen-” he put his finger on your lips.

“Stop that, now. You’re my first choice, you always have been and you always will be. There’s no one in the world that I rather be with, you understand me? JJ and I are just friends, nothing more. I'm sorry if I made you feel like I was interested in her because I promise you, I'm not.” his hand rested on yours, you didn't say anything to him.

“Come on” He stood up, his hand stretched out, waiting for you. You took his hand, walking with him as he led you to the bedroom. He walked you over to the mirror, he was standing behind you. His fingers fidgeted with the hem of your shirt, “can I ?” you nodded as he unbuttoned your shirt.

“Can I show you how I see you?”

Giving him a hum, he took the hair tie out of your hair and ran his fingers through your hair. His fingers trailed down your arms and to your side, making their way to rest on your stomach. Luke planted small kisses along your shoulder, your eyes meeting his in the mirror.

“This is how I see you. You’re beautiful and so is everything that comes with you. I don’t need you to be blonde or skinny or whatever else is out there. I need you to be you.”

You turned around to face him, his hands now on your waist. “Do you really mean that ?” you say quietly.

“Of course I do, now will you let me show you how beautiful you are ?”

Luke pulled you closer to him, kissing you softly. There was no rush or not a thing in the world that could take him from you right now.

The only thing that matter to him was you, his beautiful girl.

#luke alvez #ssa luke alvez #luke alvez x you #luke alvez x reader #luke alvez x y/n #luke alvez oneshot #luke alvez imagine #cm #cm imagine #cm imagines #cm oneshot #cm fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds oneshot #criminal minds fanfiction

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chaoticpuff17 · 4 years

Text

A Dangerous Game

part 12

masterlist

Namjoon left in a huff after that leaving both Y/N and Jungkook in shock. Neither of them really knew what to make of his exit as they looked at each other with mirrored looks of confusion.

“Well that was interesting.” She laughed. “Shall we walk around the garden?” She suggested smiling at the younger man. What else were they really supposed to do?

She had the time but not the inclination to stay and contemplate what was going around in Namjoon’s head. That was a twisted mess she had no interest in detangling. If you entered the labyrinth that was his mind you were likely to never come out again. It was not a risk she was willing to take, and so instead they walked around the garden.

Jungkook, she found, was a rather shy young man. He didn’t say much, but he followed her like a shadow as they wandered about the gardens. She was looking for an exit. He was making sure she didn’t do anything Namjoon wouldn’t approve of. At least that was what they were doing before they were accosted by the happiest ball of fluff she had ever seen.

“Who is this cutie?” She asked kneeling down to scratch behind the dog’s ears.

Jungkook kneeled down as well smiling as he gave the dog attention as well. “This is Moni. He’d Namjoon hyung’s dog.”

“Namjoon has a dog?” Jungkook nodded. “That man, the devil himself, has a white fluffy dog?” Again, he nodded. And she couldn’t help but laugh. It just seemed so out of character. Weren’t crime lord’s supposed to keep tough dogs like Rottweilers and Pitbulls? But here was possibly the cutest little ball of fluff she had ever seen.

“Your hyung is a very strange man.” She told Jungkook. “Does he even have time for a dog? You know between the illegal activities and kidnapping women?”

“Moni spends a lot of time with the staff.”

“Well that’s no good. Moni and I will just have to be friends from now on. Won’t we, Moni?” She cooed smooshing the dogs face. It was her dog now.

“Come along, boys!” She smiled standing back up straightening out her skirt ready to continue their walk.

She found out rather quickly that the gardens were enclosed by a wall, a very tall wall, but there were trees, trees that were very climbable. They could get her close to the top of the wall. The problem was that she didn’t know what was on the other side of that wall or how many goons Namjoon had watching the perimeter of the estate. And then there was her new problem. Jungkook. How was she supposed to get rid of her new shadow? Those would all have to be problems for another time though. She didn’t have the free reign she needed to properly scope out the area and plot.

Her days quickly fell into a new routine. She would wake up and go to her breakfasts with Namjoon in the morning and share a meal with him in the evening. Other than that she would be free to spend the day as she pleased, so long as she remained within the boundaries of the estate. Jungkook would be with her wherever she went or at the very least waiting just outside the door. The only time Jungkook was not with her was when either Namjoon or Jin was, but Jin’s visits could not be as frequent as she would have liked them to be. But she found a great friend in Jungkook.

The young man was like a younger brother to her now, and she no longer minded his constant presence in her life. He also came with the added bonus of sneaking her into activities that were not quite Namjoon approved such as Mario Kart tournaments or movie marathons. Of course the house staff knew of her activities, but no one could begrudge her a few luxuries without the boss’ knowing especially not when there was so little to keep someone occupied when you did the same things day after day. So they kept her secret, and Namjoon never knew of the little indulgences Jungkook allowed her.

It had been maybe three weeks since she’d been released from her rooms, and she was wondering the garden with Moni and Jungkook like she did most days. Her days were an endless cycle of wandering the gardens, playing the piano, and reading books that Namjoon had prepared. She and Jungkook would have tea in the garden. It wasn’t that harsh of a life. Namjoon treated her well in fact. The only real complaint she had, other than being a prisoner, was how monotonous her gilded cage was. If you didn’t know she was a prisoner, you never would have suspected it. She was treated as the lady of the house, Namjoon’s precious wife.

She was grateful for the gardens and for the piano room. She was even grateful for Jungkook, her guard, her shadow. When it was just the two of them and Moni, she could almost forget that she was a prisoner and that Jungkook was her guard. She could almost forget that he wouldn’t hesitate to turn her into Namjoon if she slipped up. But or a few moments at least, she could forget.

“I’d heard that Namjoon had found himself a woman.” An unfamiliar voice spoke startling her from her reverie.

Looking up she found a man smiling down at her. He was handsome with a lovely smile that normally would have given her butterflies, but nothing was normal about her life these days, and everyone she met was in Namjoon’s pocket.

She stood up straight and smoothed out the fabric of her skirt as Jungkook watched carefully from a few feet away where he had been playing with Moni while she watched the Koi from the bridge. “He hasn’t.”

“Then you’re not the lady of the house I’ve heard so much about?”

“That depends on who you ask.” She scoffed a frown marring her features.

“And what do you say?”

Y/N laughed, the sound bitter. “You must be new. What I say doesn’t matter here. All of Namjoon’s men know who I am and what my position here is. And if you don’t know you’re probably not one of Namjoon’s men.”

“And if I told you I wasn’t one of Namjoon’s men?” He asked curiously.

“Then I’d say you’re an idiot for being here.”

The stranger threw back his head and laughed. “I can see why Namjoon likes you. I’m Mark.”

“Y/N.” She replied shaking his out stretched hand. “So why hasn’t Jungkook removed you yet? He’s watching us like a hawk.”

“Jungkook?”

“The man staring daggers at you from the lawn.” She shrugged. “He’s here to make sure I don’t do anything stupid like try to hop the fence.”

“A caged bird then.” He hummed.

She narrowed her eyes taking him in. In all her time at the estate she hadn’t once met anyone who wasn’t under Namjoon’s thumb. But this man claimed not to be one of Namjoon’s goons.

“So who are you if you don’t work for Namjoon?”

“I’m an associate of his. I have a few businesses based in Taiwan and America”

“Legitimate business or Namjoon’s kind of business?”

He laughed again showing off a dazzling smile. Why were all these mafiosos so attractive? It was a carefree and happy expression, but there was something sharp lingering in his eyes. “A bit of both, darling.”

“Figures.” She sighed turning back to the pond and leaning on the railing of the bridge. “No one who comes here is anything less than shady.”

Mark gasped placing a hand over his heart. “Are you calling me shady? Darling, I’m offended.”

“I met you two minutes ago in a mob boss’ house.” She deadpanned.

“Point taken.” He shrugged nonplussed by her lack of enthusiasm.

“I suppose since you’re an associate of Namjoon’s I can’t convince you to sneak me back to the states.” She glanced over at him knowing full well he wasn’t going to get her out of this nightmare.

“Plotting your escape, jagi?” Her spine stiffened, and she immediately stood upright again at the sound of his voice.

There he was, sauntering up the bridge towards them as put together as ever in one of his suits. Y/N knew immediately that she was in trouble. Though he was smiling, his eyes were cold and hard.

“Tuan.” He greeted the other man with a curt nod.

“Kim.” Came the equally as curt reply.

“Jagi.” Namjoon beckoned her to his side, and she dutifully went unwilling to make him any angrier than he already seemed. He wrapped an arm round her waist, and pulled her into his side. “I do recall that guests are meant to wait in the parlor, Tuan.”

The other man smiled. “Yes, but you have such beautiful gardens. I couldn’t resist a stroll. And I got to meet the lovely, Y/N.” Namjoon’s hand tightened uncomfortably on her hip.

“Jagi, I believe Miss In has prepared tea for you in your rooms.” He squeezed her hip again flashing her a cold smile as she paled. “Tuan, I believe that you and I have business to discuss.” Namjoon motioned for Jungkook, who had moved closer during the encounter, to come and collect her. “There’s a lovely pavilion we can talk in since you enjoy the garden so much.”

He passed her over to Jungkook all the while maintaining his coldly polite smile. The message was clear. Her time in the garden was finished for today, and Namjoon didn’t want her anywhere near Mark. It probably didn’t help that he had walked right into a conversation about her trying to leave. She would probably be paying for that comment later.

“Until next time, Y/N.” Mark bid her goodbye with a sly smile as Jungkook gently herded her back towards the house, Moni following at their heels.

For the rest of the day Y/N was confined to her rooms. She wasn’t locked in like she had been before, but Jungkook stood guard outside making it clear that she wasn’t allowed out until Namjoon himself came to release her. As promised, Miss In had provided tea, but that was the last she had seen of anyone.

Boredom had quickly set in. She finished the book she had with her, and had resorted to rereading it when there was nothing else to do.

“Jagiya.” She was startled from her book by Namjoon. He stood in the doorway with his arms folded across his chest his features set in a stern look.

She sighed uncurling herself from the corner of the sofa and setting the book aside. “I wish you wouldn’t call me that. I’m not your sweet heart or honey or whatever.”

“Jagiya.” The endearment was stated more sternly this time.

“Yes, Namjoon?” She asked keeping her eyes on her hands folded neatly in her lap. She knew full well that she was in trouble.

“Oh, jagiya.” He cooed crossing the room. One of his hands came up to cup her jaw forcing her to look at him. “Talking to strange men in the garden? What were you thinking? What if he had hurt you?”

She pushed his hand away. “I doubt that you would allow someone into the house who would cause disruption. You’re far too careful for that. Besides, Jungkook wouldn’t let anything happen.”

“I appreciate the faith you have in me, jagi, but I don’t appreciate you talking to strange men.”

“He was your guest, and we only spoke for a moment.” She scoffed.

He smiled at her, bu the expression was cold and sharp. “Yes, you spoke for a moment, and yet you still managed to ask him for help leaving me.” Suddenly, she found the yellow of her dress very fascinating. “Did you really think that was a good idea, jagi?”

“I didn’t think he’d actually do it.” She murmured plucking at the fabric of her skirts.

He tsked under his breath. “I thought we’d put all those silly thoughts out of your head, jagi. You’ve been so good recently.” One hand snaked up to grasp her hair at the nape of her neck forcing her to look up at him with a gasp of pain. “Don’t you like it here, jagi?”

“I would burn this whole place to the ground with you in it if I could.” She hissed.

He released her with a chuckle moving instead to cage her against the sofa with two hands on either side of her head. “I know you would, jagi.” The smile he sent her made her skin crawl.

They both knew that she didn’t have any power in the relationship, but that only made his condescending attitude worse. He’d kept her here for weeks and weeks neither of them budging. But there wasn’t really anything she could do anyway, not yet anyway. Even if she somehow managed to escape the estate, she would still be in a foreign city with no phone, no passport, no money, and no way to contact the only person she knew here. She didn’t even know if Eun-ho had recovered from their crash. No one would tell her anything.

“I want you to know, jagi, that if you did manage to escape, you wouldn’t get far. I can promise you that nothing would stop me from finding you and dragging you back to me. You are mine, my wife. There is nowhere on this earth you can hide from me.” He smirked cruelly bringing a hand to her cheek in a gesture that was far more gentle than his words. “Not even that little friend of yours bothering the police can help you now. He came all the way from America for you.” She felt her heart drop, plummeting into her stomach. “Anything you’d like to tell me, jagi?”

part 13

#bts #bts fic #yandere bts #namjoon #namjoon x reader #mafia namjoon #yandere namjoon #rm #rm x reader #mafia #mafia au #dark romance #a dangerous game #soft yandere #fanfic

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poptod · 3 years

Text

Pull the Stars Out of the Sky (And Gift Them to Me), pt. 5 (Ahkmenrah x Reader)

Description: You finally learn just how far he will go.

Notes: this story takes a very interesting turn, but i promise its worth the ending i promise. ending might not be done for several more chapters though :) hope thats alright! WC: 8.2 k

He left you alone in the garden.

You could've run away then. The trees and brush you'd have to wade through would be a tiny price for freedom, and you were mostly hidden from the view of the house. Instead you curled into a ball, having never felt as small as this in all your life, and hid yourself away. He was on your mind.

A taste of how your life would be if you ran already began to build on your tongue, as though in this moment you were free of his hold, entirely, wholly, and truly. It was bitter, like bile, tainted by the man who would always be on your mind, no matter how far or fast you ran. He had left his mark, scarred your skin, and you would never be rid of his presence. His eye that he forced into your mind would always watch over you, broadcasting his desirous thoughts into your consciousness. A voyeur in your own head.

Bereft of energy, you leant against the alabaster pillar, drooping eyes set uneasily upon the flowing water. He would do anything for you, but how far did that insanity go? Would he eventually grow tired of your emotional distance and forcefully take you for his own? All you knew of him was what he decided to show you––not a single bit more.

"Amoke?"

You looked drearily upwards, but relief filled you upon seeing Haji approaching you.

"You don't look so good," he noted, sitting down on the step beside you.

"I'm just a little tired," you sighed, pulling the blanket on your shoulders tighter around you.

"Did you get any sleep last night?"

"Yes, fortunately. How about you? What is your housing like here?"

"Not too bad," he said with a shrug. "I've got three other men in my room, but we're all in bunks. Main part of the house is nice, though. Lots of baked goods."

"Sounds nice," you chuckled. Your gaze fell once more to the intricate path of stone beneath your feet.

"So... Ahk told me you had a bit of a rough time this morning," he said slowly. You knew that was why he was here, yet still your heart sunk a little.

"I don't often find myself in large cities, much less in the middle of them."

"That's not the only thing bothering you though, is it?"

You sighed, before softly saying, "no."

Haji waited patiently while you thought through your words, contemplating them fully before you spoke.

"I told myself, when I was first caught by your King, that I wouldn't sympathize with him. I promised that I wouldn't fall into that common illness, but... now.. well, every now and then he seems human. Then it all fades away, and then it comes back, and... he's capable of controlling what people think of him. He puts on different personalities for different people. Why does he do that?"

"That's his job," Haji said simply, sending a stake through the core of your mindset. "He can't be a ruler all the time, but he can't not be a ruler when he's out in public. It's good that he hasn't let being a King take over his whole personality, like his father. The fact that he shows you all these sides of him means he wants you to be welcome in all parts of his life."

"... did he tell you to say that?"

He laughed, shaking his head as he patted your shoulder.

"No, but that was a very worship-y thing for me to say," he admitted.

"Heh," you said in a soft huff, wrapping your arms around your legs and pulling them in close.

"Haji?!" Ahk called from inside the house.

Haji sighed, almost rolling his eyes as he pushed himself to his feet.

"See you," he said, trotting off.

A couple minutes later you heard voices, which was strange, considering the garden was a decent distance from the house. You glanced around, eventually looking up to find Ahk and Haji, framing the sides of an open arch held high above the ground. They were discussing something quietly, but the wind carried their voices to you.

"Are they alright?"

"Yeah, considering what you're doing to them."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I – I'm sorry, my K-"

"It's fine," he muttered curtly. "Don't let it happen again."

You bit into your cheek hard, till your skin stung, and your jaw ached with the force in it. How had you ever willingly done his bidding? How had it slipped your mind, that he was still a royal? It was obvious in his step, his manner, his words, and his presentation, yet you had allowed yourself to thank him. To speak softly to him. To share parts of yourself that you had always sworn to keep to yourself.

No matter––you could not take away what you'd already freely sacrificed, but that didn't mean you had to keep sharing things. Today it would stop, and you would feel no more sympathy for the fickle man. As nice as Haji was, he did work for the King, and whatever you told him would end up in Ahkmenrah's ear. Sharing with him would also have to cease.

Maybe you were being too bitter, too closed off, but your crimes were meager in the face of Ahkmenrah's. He wanted you for his collection, to keep your beauty near him like a caged bird. If you yearned to leave, he would lock you up, and if you dreamed to fly, he would clip your wings, to keep you for his own.

Bastard.

That night it rained. Poured down in great sheets, battering down on the stone walls surrounding you, and tearing down palm trees like grass in a wildfire. You remained in the gazebo, rooted to the spot until Ahk came out to see you.

"Dearest, you'll get sick in all this rain," he said in a soft voice, kneeling in front of you, and looking up with familiar reverence dulled by the darkened sky.

You said nothing. Instead you fell into him, exhausted by your rampant mind, and aching from the water soaking down your clothes.

"Let's get you inside," he murmured, setting one arm beneath your knees, and the other behind your back.

With a small heave you were in his arms, the whole of your weight easily carried. He adjusted you a few times before you made it back to the house, where he set you down in front of a massive firepit, leaving you in the piles of blankets to run to the front door. You watched, huddled close to yourself as he opened the door and rushed in a small group of people. Among them was Naguib, who looked in a similar fashion to yourself––drenched.

Wet shoes and bare feet slapped against the white floor, puddles of dripping rain collecting on the path to the fire. The sound would have surely echoed if the fire wasn't roaring and crackling, dulling the sound of the rain, and calming you with every floating ember.

Slowly, the group of people around you grew, till Ahk saddled in beside you, his head on your shoulder.

These were his servants. You assumed that the housing set up for them in Thebes wasn't great, and Ahk had decided his house was a good spot for everyone to house up for the night. Sounded just like him––troubling you to the point of a breakdown, and then following that up with an act of kindness you'd see out of no other King.

"Are we sleeping here tonight?" You asked, barely audible above the murmurs of servants and the dancing fire.

"I think it'd be most wise," he murmured, shuffling to kiss your bare shoulder, before returning to his lax, sleepy position.

As people drifted off to sleep, hidden far away from the storm's ravages, you stared at the fire. It dimmed, and more people fell asleep, and you stared, wide eyes unable to close. By now you were lying down, Ahk curled up in your side as you stared at the burning cinders. He snored, though you hardly minded, finding comfort in his obvious heartbeat and the soft warmth of his breath.

He would always be an enigma to you. Or, perhaps, your affection for him would always be an enigma––reasonless, and petty, and undeserved.

"Sweet... darling," he mumbled through sleep-numb lips, grasping you tighter and forcing his face into your side, hiding away from the world.

You shifted, unable to move your arm beneath his head, and pressed your lips to the top of his head.

"Go to sleep, Ahk," you whispered.

"I love you."

Oh.

I love you.

The words circled your head, always on the corner of your eye as the ship beneath you creaked. It was a barge, or that's what Ahk called it; a carrier for Amun beneath the starlit sky. You tried to keep at the edge of the water, but Ahk kept his hand rooted at your waist. You supposed, in the amassed crowd, it would be a little hard to find you once the boat reached the other side of the Nile.

Behind your ship, where the golden statue of Amun rested, a fleet of other ships sailed in your wake, all of varying sizes. Some people sailed alone on small canoes, while others joined larger ships that took families across the river. All followed a path they'd taken before, one lit by a literal golden beacon––Amun, reflecting the light of torches held high above the people's heads. He would be carried by a team of men, who would set the God in the temple of Luxor for worshippers to place their kisses upon.

You could hardly see the ships, as Ahk kept you on an elevated platform overlooking everything in front of him, which simultaneously blocked his view of behind with a large shack.

"Should I pray with you or.. stay out of the temple?" You asked, careful to keep your voice quiet despite the loud voices of the pilgrims.

"You don't have to pray," he said, looking down at you with an assuring smile. "You don't have to stay outside of the temple, either. You can do whatever you like. I'd suggest partaking in the food, though, just by the way."

"It's alright," you said. "I'm mildly interested in how your religion works, so I'll watch your ceremony."

"Wonderful," he beamed.

Your balance stumbled as the hull of the barge hit the sandy shore, banking in another painted metropolis. Massive statues of Amun met you there, though the standing ones were made of limestone, and were a deal smaller than the golden idol. They flanked the docks, protecting the entrance to the city and the adhering temple.

Torches, held by soldiers who came to greet the boats, made way for the muddy ripples of water to visibly crash into the wood, making the ground beneath you sway. With help from Ahk, you rushed off the boat in an orderly manner. Swaths of people followed from behind, running onto the various docks, and watching the Pharaoh with eager eyes. Those whose attention fell to you glared, or stared confused.

Once most people were off the boats, the soldiers and workers began to lift the golden statue, causing an uproar of cheers from those around you. You nearly cringed from the sheer volume, but the grins surrounding you turned your fear to curiosity. Now you watched, blocking out the yells, as the statue was carried off the boat and onto land, passing by you and Ahk as it made its' way to the shore and the temple beyond.

You made to follow the crowd as it followed the statue, but Ahk tugged on your hand, keeping you on the dock. A soft and unbothered smile was on his face, and you paused in your curiosity.

"What are you doing?" You asked, your voice still hushed despite being alone.

"It's better to let them pray for a little while and mingle before I enter. Gets some of their energy out so they don't trample me," he said with a shrug.

"Wow. They must really like this holiday."

"I think more than anything they're excited about free food," he chuckled, his smile growing when you chortled.

Soon he was leading you back down the wooden dock, following the footprints in the sand towards the towering rocks. The dark of night casted the temple as a silhouette, whose real shape could not be truly identified, other than the fact that it was a very large structure. Even by starlight you could barely see the steps as you approached them.

The hallway you entered was deathly quiet, but lit distantly by the lights of the next room ahead. You slowed, your attention ensnared by the statues on either side of you, and your steps came to a silent crawl. Ahk allowed you to gawk at the art before he lead you onwards, a self-satisfied smile on his lips that parted them ever so slightly. Between the tall statues were pillars, and in front of each God sat a shallow basin, all filled with a clear oil.

You turned back to Ahk, ready to continue, pausing to allow him to endow himself with holy oil. Since the journey to Karnak had been started so late into the evening, you had yet to truly see him, and for a moment wondered if he would be wearing makeup.

Blue painted his eyelids, long, sharp lines defining his eyes as he stepped into the golden light, his entirety bathed in the holy glow. His cape trailed meters behind him, shimmering as though it were nothing more than a mist. Cuffs remained a constant in his outfit, though now they cradled his upper arms, his wrists, and his ankles, each carved ornately with faience and lapis defining the lines. The collar holding up his cape bore a royalty all its' own, crystal beads of red, blue, gold, and green coming one after the other in swirling patterns. Three golden amulets fell from the front of the collar, dripping down like rain on his bare chest and stomach.

Power had a name. Royalty had been born through his name––settling deep into his person, seeping out its' presence through his veins. This was the God the Nubians feared, the Hittites, the Phoenicians, all relented their struggle in the palm of this man's hand.

He stepped forward and the cheers of the hall fell into silence, heads bowing as all came to their knees. Foreheads pressed against the ground, hands outstretched on the temple floor, but consistently retaining a clear path to the statue of Amun.

Ahk continued into the room a few more steps before he realized you weren't at his side. At that point he turned to you, meeting your eye and calling you over with a silent wave of his hand. The blood in your heart froze, petrified by the insinuation, as your eyes darted between the bowed heads and the Pharaoh's outstretched hand. But he was patient, and he waited, his welcoming hand never falling.

After another moment you took his offer, fingers sliding over his palm till he grasped you, entangling your hands together. He pulled you gently forward, and soon you were walking by his side, welcome to bask in the respect of a silent room.

You noticed, once you looked up from the worshippers with guilt, that the statue of Amun had been placed upon a pedestal, a pedestal that had several different levels, and a staircase leading up. On the lower levels, statuettes and reliefs of Mut and Khons numbered many. There was where you stopped and turned, facing the long, torch-lit hall filled to the brim with devotees of Amun and Ahkmenrah.

"They bow for you, too," he murmured in your ear.

Your eyes settled on the exposed backs, the spines popping up, and the different adornments of people from all classes. None of them knew who you were. Would they bow to a stranger just because their King told them to?

Apparently.

To the sides of the altar, you caught sight of the Pharaoh's advisors, and a few of his personal servants, who were bowed alongside the rest.

"I am a King unlike my father," Ahkmenrah began, the first words of a long expected speech. "Unlike my father, I have brought us to peace, and have done so in a fraction of the entire time my father spent ruling. Unlike my father, I will love whomever I decide fit," his hand on your waist tightened, "and I will worship who I desire to. As a King I am allowed these comforts––the freewill of choice, and the means to live fruitfully. I am not controlled by my father... or my advisors.

"Unlike my father, I will give you these rights. Restore what should have never been taken. I will return your free will. I will allow all to marry who they desire, regardless of race, class, or gender."

The already confused crowd began to murmur, heads lifting to whisper to one another in curiosity and disbelief.

"I will pay back what my people sow," he continued. "You will be able to pride yourself on your work, no matter what that is, as all creation is important, and shall be protected under my rule. I will give back the means you give me to live fruitfully. As I regenerate myself and my power during this evening, so shall you be reinvigorated, as my blood runs in your heart, just as your blood runs in mine."

He stopped speaking, and for a moment dead silence ensnared you, before a rupture of cheers and applause broke your ears. Voices surrounded you, echoing off the tall ceiling painted with stars. Beside you, the Pharaoh beamed, basking in the adoration till he turned to you. It was then, within that fiery temple, and within the view of the population of a whole city, that he held your face soft in his palm and kissed you. Needy, incredibly needy, essentially desperate, but gentle. As though you would break. The tension fell instead upon himself, in his tight chest that just barely pressed to yours. His breath pushed and pulled, longing to feel you move against him, never ceasing to thrill your nerves as his fingertips brushed across your bare stomach.

When at last you kissed him back, he melted into you, almost leaning his whole weight on you in relief. He did his best to keep himself upright, and parted when it was clear you were short on breath. For a moment he stared, scanning your wide eyes, before kissing you once more, this time much shorter.

Looking to the sides of the altar, he waved in the servants, who sprang to their feet with trays of food. They dispersed amongst the now-standing crowd, feeding the citizens just as the Pharaoh promised. Musicians appeared from behind tall pillars, strumming melodies you'd never heard before. As they did, Ahk took your hand, kissing the back of it as he began to step down from the altar.

"Ever dance before?" He asked, a teasing smile growing across his face.

"Not in Egypt," you said. Different cultures had different styles of dance, and you were in no state to embarrass yourself with your 'foreign customs'.

"It's much the same as most places," he assured you, leading you down the steps. "Just move however the music tells you to."

Drums brought in a heavy beat, thrumming in your veins as the steps of many dancers surrounded you. The weight of their feet, jumping and pounding in tune with the lutes, created a beat you could easily move your body to. Ahk felt much the same, as he smiled wide and twirled you beneath his arm. Exhilaration caught the breath in your throat, warming your already-flushed skin, and enthralling you with the Pharaoh's many talents. Of course he would know how to dance––of course he would know how to twirl you, how to dip you, to run his hands over every inch of your body without ever truly stopping his melodic movements.

A dream, he was––a glowing halo over his head, the heavenly sky painted above his piercing eyes. His clothes, doing their own dance around his moving body, swayed and whipped the glittering silk high in the air, twirling around him like a golden universe. You found yourself grinning wider than you'd ever done in his presence, searching for his hand and its' warmth whenever he parted. Without thought you chased after him, giggling as he made his way through the crowd, nearly clearing a circle in the middle of the holy temple.

By firelight you caught your reflection in his eyes. It was then you saw yourself, your near-manic smile, your tussled hair, and the royal robes dripping elegantly off your body. This was not you––or, at least, this wasn't you before Ahkmenrah captured you. Yet you found, with his hand on your waist and your chests pressed tight together, that very rarely had you been happier than this moment.

People around you, staring at you, the scent of spilled wine and twice-baked honey intoxicating you. The circle around you continued to dance, but kept an eye on you and the King.

"See?" He murmured out of breath. "You are beautiful. Heavenly. You are already a God. See how they stare?"

"Yes," you whispered out.

"They are simply processing your divinity," he said, his eyes darting to each feature on your face.

"What should I do?"

"Dance."

Beneath the eyes of Amun you kissed him, soft and barely there, before you gently parted yourself from him. He watched, breathless, as you placed your hand on his chest. You circled him, drawing your finger around his chest to his back.

"This is how they dance in the east," you mumbled in his ear, carefully watching the eager crowd as you spoke.

You grabbed his hand, whirling him around to face you as another grin began to cross you. He mimicked your smile, enchanted by your movements, gaze never ceasing as you began to move your hips. The staring of strangers now only served to fuel you, caught up in the wanderlust that had captured you so vividly as a child. This had been your source of energy, how you kept moving throughout the world––the presentation of other cultures, their wisdom, and their art.

Soon you were tangling yourself back into Ahk, allowing him to pull you in circles and dictate your steps. The two of you moved in near synchronicity, and as the temple's dancers joined in on the sides, so did the rest of the populace crammed into the hall. Musicians played louder as the shouts and whoops of listeners began to overtake it.

You caught sight of the golden statue once more, your gaze lingering on those knelt at its' feet. Plates, bowls, and clay pitchers of food and wine now overcrowded the base, accompanied by the reliefs of Mut and Khons, as well as tokens made of Amun's image. Slowly you dragged your eyes upwards, to the watching stare of the golden God.

It blinked.

Massive eyelids closed over empty eyes, causing you to falter in your step. Your own eyes widened, caught horrified by the statue, a terror that quickly halted Ahk's own dancing. He looked at you confused for a moment, before following your line of sight to the statue.

The room fell into an astonished silence, instruments screeching to a halt as the statue's arms began to crack, movement slowly filling them until they tore apart from the main body. Fingers cracked as though sore from stillness, followed by the horrid trembling of the floor brought about by his heavy feet. They tore from the base, stepping down from the altar as the face began to move, animated, and smiling.

The golden eyes of Amun stared at the tiny people below him, a space amidst the crowd cleared for him to stand easily in the temple.

You looked up bug-eyed, your mouth falling open as Ahk grasped your lower arm tight.

"Is this supposed to happen?" You asked in a whisper, but in the wake of silence, your words were clear as day.

"Not... usually," Ahk admitted sheepishly, tugging nervously at his clothes. "Um.. Amun? Have you possessed your statue?"

"In a way," he said, the deep vibrations of his voice humming painfully loud in the echo chamber. "I have my projected my thoughts and voice into this body, so I may give to you the gift of my presence... and so I may give you a message."

Despite the tremor in Ahkmenrah's hand, he kept himself steady, and looked up at the God as though he were any other regular person.

"What is your message, Hidden One?" He asked.

"I desire your... pet," the God said, his eyes falling to you, clinging to the Pharaoh's side. You shrank further into yourself, nearly shaking with panic.

Amun was the creator God. Ahkmenrah could not say no––the pure outrage that would come from the citizens should he do that was deterrent enough for you to be assured of that.

But he stepped out in front of you, cradling you behind him as he glared upwards.

"Why?" He asked, his earlier reverence turned to suspicion.

"Do you dare to question my command?" Amun asked in return, the rims of his eyes beginning to glow an unearthly purple. Smoke filled his mouth, coming out in great billows and plumes, filling the ceiling as he appeared to grow taller.

"I want to know why," Ahk gritted out.

Amun paused, gauging both your expression and Ahkmenrah's, before speaking precise and clear.

"It possesses the knowledge of many cultures. I have tired of my consorts, my own pets, and their closed minds. Your pet is beautiful and knowledgeable," Amun said, kneeling to face you closer, "and I desire it for the afterlife."

Massive eyes met yours, peering over Ahk's comparatively tiny shoulder. They remained rooted for a moment, scanning what little of you they could see, before the God stood once more.

"I want you to kill it, preserve its' body as well as you can, and bury it for when I come to take it," he said.

"No."

Gasps sounded from the crowd, all the eyes on you chittering and murmuring at Ahkmenrah's gall.

"Tiny King," Amun growled, his hand reaching down to pick Ahk out from the crowd.

Before the thick fingers could pinch him, Ahk reached around to one of his nearby soldiers, pulling the sword from its' sheath and slicing the palm of the God. The gasps around you grew louder yet, people beginning to shuffle nervously as they doubted the will of their Pharaoh. Through the murmurings you heard shouts, taunts against Ahkmenrah, claims of sudden insanity.

"Give up the slave!" Came from somewhere behind you, which very nearly broke Ahk's concentration on Amun as his nails dug into his palm, teeth ground together.

"Someone take his sword!"

"Get him out of here!"

"Silence," commanded Amun, and the temple returned to quiet. "A cut will not stop me."

With that he reached forward, his massive hand brushing Ahk aside and grasping your middle, arms forced to your sides. Your breath caught in your throat, unable to yell as you were lifted from the ground.

"You had the choice to willingly serve me or anger me. Either way," he brushed the hair away from your face with his golden skin, "I will have Amoke for my own."

He smiled, soft, and terrifying, as he squeezed you tighter in his palm. The constriction cut off your ability to breathe, muscles pinching and twisting with the pressure.

"You have watched from afar my battles, that I am sure of," Ahkmenrah said. You looked down, desperation welling tears in your eyes as you met the gaze of the King, who had the face of the dead; dark, and dull, and absent of empathy. "Yet you don't know that I will destroy anything that comes between me and what I want."

"Funny," said Amun, "I'm the same way."

Ahk casted aside his sword, instead reaching for the many vases, pots, and basins of oil, throwing them all to the floor till both the offerings and marble floors were covered in holy oil. Confusion struck you till he reached for a torch, at which point you began to wriggle in the God's grasp. Ahkmenrah had done a number of stupid things, especially when it came to his relationship with you, but burning down a temple rung bad news to you.

He threw the torch to the ground, lighting the temple aflame with bursts of fire that burned red and orange. Already heat came to meet you, hitting your cheek and neck with waves of searing warmth, tinted with the smell of lavender and roses. Screams bounced off the walls, blurred by the crackling roar of fire. You watched, high above the crowd, as people scrambled towards the exit, desperately escaping the flames. Then your eyes fell, past the door, past the shrieking, to the Pharaoh, his face lit by fire, and his eyes darkened by the overwhelming shadow of his own crown.

"Fire cannot hurt a God," Amun spat, holding you closer to his chest.

"No," Ahk agreed, "but it can hurt your vessel."

"Gold doesn't melt by simple fire."

"Right again. But the stone on the inside of that frame does."

While they spoke, you began to feel the melting heat of stone surrounding you, burning you wherever your skin was bare. Panic seized you fiercely, quickening your breath till you barely felt your own chest heaving up and down. You cried out as the burning sensation turned to searing pain, melting and blistering the skin of your forearms.

From nowhere you were released, falling two meters from the sky to the ground. Ahk rushed past the burning pools of oil and piles of food, grasping your hand tight in his. Before either of you said anything, the agonized, broken yells of a God filled your head. It spiked and crackled, like explosions in your ears, ranging from deep, mechanical roars to high-pitches screeches that felt like nails dragging down from your eyes to your jaw. Through it all Ahk kept you running, heading for the wooden doors already set aflame. Pillars fell around you, crashing against the marble floor, and in the process causing the ground to tremble. The two of you nearly lost your balance, watching two massive pillars slowly falling to block the exit. He held your hand tighter yet, his pace increasing as yours did, the two of you bolting out of the hall. The moment you exited, the final pillars fell behind you, blocking the door and locking the God into the fiery temple.

Heavy pants filled your chest till it numbed, your teary eyes stinging in the cool, night air. Even through the thick stone you could hear Amun wailing and screeching, clawing at the walls of the temple till the marble gave way, tumbling to the floor and splintering upon impact. The sandstone bricks behind the marble kept him inside, leaving him to die within its' holy walls.

"Are you alright?" He asked, frantic hands and eyes scanning your body. First he held your face, then your neck, till he found the marks covering your forearms.

"I'm -"

"Ohhh dearest," he breathed out, his brow furrowed tight as he took your hands, holding them with a touch so gentle you barely felt it. "I'm so sorry, my dear. I didn't... oh dear.. does it hurt?"

You looked down, scanning over the seared flesh in the dim starlight.

"Not anymore," you said, confused at your own tolerance. "It just hurt at first."

"I'm so sorry, my love, I'm.. we'll get this bandaged up, all right?" He promised, looking you in the eye.

"Ahk, no one's going to help you," you said. His subjects wouldn't accept him back after that fiasco. No way.

"Piye will," he said assuredly, raising your hands to kiss your fingers. "That's all we need."

"Where are they?"

"Still in Thebes. It'll take us a little bit, so let's get some bandages first," he murmured, kissing your forehead.

He gingerly threaded his fingers in yours, assuring himself of you, before the two of you headed away from the desecrated temple. While he scanned the long, dark hallway for people, you noted the figures flanking the entrance, and tugged on Ahk's arm.

“He certainly lived up to his speech,” one of them said.

"I think your advisors are waiting to hand your ass to you," you whispered.

"Ah... fuck. My father himself is going to rise from the field of reeds to throw my ass in my face," he mumbled, chewing on his lip.

"When did you start swearing?" You asked, slightly befuddled.

"Usually when I get into dangerous situations," he said lowly, ducking behind one of the pillars as one of the figures shifted, "it starts up. Horrible habit. My mother tried to rid me of it but she was never quite successful."

"Apparently," you muttered beneath your breath, before helpfully pointing out that there were holes built into the ceiling to let natural light through.

"Perfect, darling," he said, pecking your cheek before reaching for the carved top of the pillars.

Once assured of his stability, he heaved himself upwards, catching the ledge outside before falling. From there he pulled himself up, scrambling onto the roof of the hallway. You attempted to go the same route, but your arms hardly reached the pillar's protrusions, and they were numb with pain. Seeing your trouble, he lay flat on the roof, hanging his arm down. You grasped tight as you could, and with help from your legs you clambered onto the roof.

Ahk huffed, brushed himself off, brushed you off, and only then continued on. From up there you could easily see the advisors and guards discussing, their hushed voices reaching you with little clarity. Spying would do you no good, and Ahk soon realized that, taking you back towards the temple.

In silence he climbed the rest of the way to the temple's roof, helping you up along the way. Your shadow stood before you, casted long but pale against the flat expanse of the roof, stretching out before you like a desert. This was the only area of the temple undecorated, left untouched and plain. It was a funny thought to realize that from above––from a God's view––the temple was as plain as white sand.

By descending far away from the entrance, the two of you avoided sight of his advisors in an act you realized he'd done many a time before. You wondered, watching him sneak along the ground, what kind of a child he was, and if you would've liked him better if you met him when he was younger. Though to be perfectly fair you liked him quite a lot already, unfortunate as it was.

Ever aware of your wound, he led you by a hand on your back, instead of the usual taking hold of your hand. Keeping your footsteps quiet proved hard in the loose rocks, but with your slow pace you safely made it to the boathouse he led you to.

"Here," he whispered, ushering you into the room. He glanced outside, scanning for anyone present, before carefully closing the door and turning back to you.

You opened your mouth to speak, but before you could do so he was pushing you into a chair, hushing you softly. Mildly offended, but more importantly confused, you watched as he rifled through boxes of storage. Most of your questions were answered when he pulled out bandages. Alongside that, he pulled out a small pot of honey, which you yourself had used before to treat infections.

"I am truly sorry, my dear," he said as he knelt before you, unravelling the linen. "I never meant for anyone to get hurt."

"Except Amun."

"Well... yes, there is that," he mumbled abashedly, chuckling.

For a little while you watched in silence as he gingerly wrapped your arms up, careful not to touch the sticky, pale wound with his fingers. Honey kept the linen from burning or attaching to heavily to your skin.

"Why did you do that?" You asked, your voice cracking in your attempt to keep quiet.

"What? Did I wrap it wrong?" He asked, looking up with wide, expectant eyes.

"No, not that, the –"

"The burning thing?"

"Yes, kind of," you said. "You hurt your God."

"It's alright, he's not the only one we've got," he chuckled.

"That's not the point," you hissed, increasingly irritated with his jokes. He laughed at your annoyance, but finally calmed down enough to speak seriously.

"Amoke, the Gods are eternal. They have time to know everything, to have everything. We are not. We have a limited amount of time to enjoy ourselves. I think Amun can wait another hundred years till you die. I can't. Do you understand that?" He said, his hand cradling your face as he knelt between your legs, praying to your reverent eyes. "I don't mind fighting for the things in this world that I own. Because until I die, I am wholly of this plane, and such earthly things are all I have."

You swallowed through a tight throat before nodding. A small smile replaced the worried knot in his brow, and he returned carefully to the task at hand.

White linen soon coated the entirety of both your upper arms, spots of honey and blood rarely peeking through the wraps. He was finally finished, the ends tucked away, preventing it from unravelling when you moved. For a moment you sat still, waving your arms up and down experimentally.

"Thank you," you said as you stood, looking down at the couple blisters along your hands.

"Of course, dear," he said, kissing the top of your head. "Piye will do a much better job. I just don't want it to get infected on the way there."

Seeing as your temporary hideout was a boathouse, it was relatively easy to get a boat. The process was a combination of 'don't let the wood creak beneath you,' 'lay down on the dock, there's someone coming,' and 'untie that knot faster'. Your aching hands were no fit for any small, involved work, so Ahk made himself useful by both releasing the canoe from the dock and rowing it away from shore.

Despite being almost-passed-out tired, you couldn't doze on the boat, too paralyzed by the rocking waves. Ahk noticed––of course he did––but could do little to comfort you. All he had to provide was the information that this wouldn't take long; thirty minutes or so, he said.

To find ease in something, you looked off the edge of the boat to the rippling, black water. Though the stars shined above you, you could barely see them in the river. Instead you found your reflection staring back up at you, unblinking.

"It's not healthy to stare at yourself too long. Drives some insane," Ahk commented in a hum.

"As if you don't spend an hour every morning looking at yourself in the mirror."

"Ouch. Fair point."

Stumbling back onto land was easier than usual, but keeping your balance on the dock was a little harder. Ahk told you to sit down while he tied the boat up, which you did, but only after nearly tripping over a stray rope.

"We shouldn't exclude the possibility that Piye, and perhaps the rest of the Thebes, already knows of what we've done," Ahk said, looking out from the dark shore to the torch-lit city.

"And if they do?"

"Um... we'll get to that when we get there," he said with a sharp breath, his eye still set on the lights. "Let's go, hm? Nice and quiet."

You nearly laughed at his behavior, but a glance to his expression had you sobered. His teeth were digging into his lip, more than usual, and it looked rather painful.

"Ahk?" You said, grasping his arm to halt him. He turned to you, his stress gone, and looked you in the eye. "Are.. are you alright?"

He continued to stare at you for a moment, before saying, "yes! I, um, I'm alright. Thank you."

"... okay," you said doubtfully. He was clearly lying, but you didn't want to seem as though you cared too much, and you could always ask later on.

Keeping low to the ground, just as before, the two of you managed to sneak into the city without being noticed. It was an even more impressive feat considering your clothes jangled with every movement, overcrowded with jewels. Torches had you struck with fear several times, recalling each time the gold swirls of Ahk dancing, and terrified the light would shine too bright off the Pharaoh.

Without attracting too much attention, you made it safely to Piye's housing, placed within a large garden beside several other similar-looking houses. First he looked in through the windows, but ultimately found nothing.

"I'm sure it's fine if we just go inside," Ahk said with a dismissive shrug, tugging on the handle.

"Um –"

"Don't worry, Amoke," he said, directing you inside. "I've known Piye since I was ten. They won’t mind."

Your mouth pressed into a thin line, anxiously looking around the dark room for any sign of movement. Such was your anxiety that when Ahk closed the door behind him, you jumped, long nails digging deep into your palms.

"Careful there," he said as he passed by you, heading towards the fireplace.

He knelt on the ground, his beautiful skirt dirtied on the soot and dirt collected on the hearth. Pulling out several tools from nearby, he soon started a fire, this time much tamer and controlled.

Fire.

Why did the sight of it root you to the spot?

Warmth seeped into the room, gently easing your tight, cold muscles, and asking you to step nearer. Your teeth dug into your cheek, but you fought your impulse and sat nearby on the floor. As you drew your knees to your chest, Ahk scooted over to your side, gently putting your head on his shoulder.

"I swear, I'll -"

The muffled sound of yelling began to ring from the entrance of the garden. You and Ahk immediately looked to one another with wide eyes as you listened, trying to make out the words.

"Osiris won't be enough –– wrangle that –– stuff you in a grave!"

Splinters flew as the door wrenched open, slamming against the wall and bounding back to nearly hit Piye in the face. Fortunately, Piye, being tall and vigilant as they were, caught it without breaking their menacing stare at Ahk. Ahk on the other hand was rooted to the spot, staring up at the enraged magician.

"What the hell were you thinking?!" Piye yelled, forcing the door shut behind them before approaching Ahk with a vindication you rarely saw. "You think you can just attack a God and your people will still love you? You're not above the deities, Ahkmenrah. You're their vessel and they will strike you down for this disrespect!"

"I'm not going to let an innocent person die because some God wants a plaything," Ahk said firmly, keeping his ground.

"You don't get a choice. Don't forget you're a temporary ruler of this world. The Gods control everything and everyone," Piye said, roughly jabbing Ahk in the chest with their finger.

"Piye has a point," you said.

"Amoke, d –"

"They're going to get their way eventually. Why fight it?" You asked, a question that had the two of them quiet for a moment.

"I will fight for every last second I can have with you. If need be I will slay my people for one more minute in your presence," he said as he once more knelt before you, taking your hands in his. "I will burn down this world for one last kiss."

There was a fervor in his eyes unlike anything you'd seen before––bright, brilliantly so, yet lusting for something not in the realm of the holy. Something much more sinister; a lust not for flesh, but for the blood within it. He would keep his word. You knew then and there, staring into those bright, empty eyes, that he would sooner destroy his cities than let you go.

He would keep his word.

"Don't," you barely whispered out.

"I would," he said with the same softness, directing you to look back at him when your eyes strayed.

"I know."

Wooden planks creaked as Piye shifted their weight, crossing their arms as they watched your spectacle.

"I allowed this for a long while," Piye said, their voice drawing Ahk's face away from hiding in your lap. "I let you steal an innocent person. Now I see I should've stopped it from the beginning. You've grown too attached, Ahk. You have responsibilities bigger than yourself, and there are certain things you cannot indulge. Certain pleasures you cannot partake in."

Not once had the Pharaoh looked to Piye. Instead his gaze remained enraptured in yours, dreamy as it was bittersweet.

"And if I abandon my position as King?" He asked, a smile growing across his face as he carefully watched your reaction. Behind him, however, Piye's own expression fell, arms unwinding as they stared stupefied at the Pharaoh.

"Your father would never forgive you," Piye said, much quieter through the tension built in their throat.

"So what? He's dead."

"Merenkahre might not have been a fantastic King but he was still your father, and he cared about you."

"- a care that was most certainly conditional, seeing as how he treated my brother," Ahk pointed out.

"Your brother killed thirteen servants!! I think that's a little different!" Piye seethed, lean muscles in their hands tensing as they spoke through gritted teeth.

"Yes, listen, Amoke got hurt in that little temple fiasco. I was hoping you could help them," Ahk said, finally turning to face Piye.

"Oh. Of course, come here," Piye mumbled, ushering you over. "I'm sorry you got tangled in his mess. I'm sure you don't want to be here."

"Oh, well -" you began only to be interrupted.

"I'll be very pleased to remind you that Amoke willingly joined me this time!"

"'This time,'" Piye mocked. "Oooh, your little plaything actually wanted to be remotely near you one time."

"First off, ouch, second off, you enjoyed it, didn't you Amoke? I mean, besides the whole melting arm debacle," Ahk said, peering over Piye's to see you.

A long, tense silence stretched when you couldn't find an answer, and instead decided to focus on Piye's treatments.

"My Gods," Piye muttered once all the wrappings were off, which was not a good thing to hear from a doctor when they're examining you.

"What? What's wrong?" You quickly asked, eyes darting between the wrappings, your wound, and Piye's concerned expression.

"Nothing, it's just... this is a pretty severe wound. I'm surprised you still have fingers," they said, shaking their head to clear it.

After taking a deep breath, they took one of your hands, holding it up close to their eye.

"I'm going to have to do some... experimental magic for this. Are you alright with that?"

"What happens if it goes wrong?" You asked, a creeping suspicion on the edge of your words.

"I'd imagine either nothing or you'll have arms made of flowers."

You paused to silently debate it, but took little time deciding.

"Alright," you agreed.

"Wonderful. Give me a moment," they said, and began to mutter verses beneath their breath, eyelids closing over glowing eyes.

You looked to Ahk with an astonished look, your mouth hanging open. He just shrugged, unable to give you an answer before Piye reemerged, no longer glowing in their eyes. Now their palms were glowing, surrounding your burnt arm.

"Repeat after me," they said. "I am this pure lotus which went forth from the sunshine."

You repeated them.

"–– which is at the nose of Re; I have descended --"

"–– that I may seek it for Horus ––"

"–– for I am the pure one who issued from the fen."

Heat came from the tip of your tongue, nearly burning as you spoke the last word. With a racing heart, you opened your eyes, immediately drawn to the blue and purple embers rising from your arm. Streams of light soon came from the wounds, blossoming into solid shapes that built the petals of blue lotus flowers.

Every inch of skin that was scarred, burned, blistered, or melted off had been infested with flowers, growing so thick that they puffed out like kinky hair.

"Is it... supposed to do that?" You asked hesitantly.

"It's not.. not supposed to do that," Piye suggested, which was also not a comforting thing to be told.

Either way, you made your way back to your previous seat, your hands folded neatly in your lap as you slouched down. Piye made to grab something from the mantle, but ultimately sighed deeply and flopped down on the floor beside you and Ahk.

"What are we going to do, Ahk?" They asked, leaning forward with their chin balanced on their palm.

"... you're going to help me?" Ahk murmured as he perked up.

"Yes," said Piye bitterly, "of course. But I'm not going to enjoy it."

#ahkmenrah x reader #Ahkmenrah #Night at the Museum #rami malek #rami malek character #ahkmenrah x female reader #ahkmenrah x male reader

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hopelesshawks · 3 years

Text

History of Us Part 35- The Storm

Summary: Once upon a time Todoroki and (y/n) were best friends. Now they haven’t spoken in years. When (y/n) is forced to transfer to UA, will she and Shoto reconnect or will their troubled past keep them apart? A childhood friends to enemies to lovers hybrid fic.

If you don’t want to see History of Us content blacklist #hopelesshou

Masterlist Kofi

The plan, both that of the reunion squad and that of the pro heroes, goes to shit almost immediately. Your father is a smart man and the compound reflects that. Almost immediately upon breaching the entrance, the pros realized that the information they had on the building’s floor plan was incorrect. They were also wrong about the compound solely being occupied by you, Dabi, and your father. Several lower level villains have been kept on retainer precisely in case of a situation like this. Not only had Shoto and the others not been able to sneak past the pros to try and find you but the pros had actively requested their help as things rapidly devolved.

Then your father finally made his appearance in dramatic fashion, and that’s when things really went downhill. Literally half the compound was blown sky high as your father released a massive flurry of shadows racing out to push back the heroes. Several of the pros on scene are immediately knocked out of commission, leaving the smaller villains to run into the city and cause trouble. Tamaki is one of the first to recover, quickly organizing some of the remaining heroes and sidekicks into squads to track down the villains now racing towards the more densely populated commercial area nearby. “I’m trusting you to handle Black Storm,” he tells Endeavor. The older man only gives him a nod before Tamaki is off to try and minimize the damage being done.

Shoto starts to worry as he realizes he still hasn’t seen you but before he can begin searching properly a familiar voice stops him in his tracks. “There you are little brother, I was worried you might not show,” Touya grins. Shoto’s eyes narrow at his brother, his quirk itching to be released as he stares him down. “Where’s (y/n)?” Shoto all but growls. “You sure she even wants you to find her?” Dabi teases, his amusement at the situation palpable. “Absolutely,” Shoto replies without even a hint of hesitation or doubt. “Tell you what, prove you really are dad’s perfect little experiment and beat me. If you can do that much I’ll lead you right to her. I’d hurry if I were you too, her daddy dearest didn’t take too kindly to finding heroes at our door and poor (y/n) is his favorite punching bag,” Dabi grins. “With pleasure,” Shoto growls before lunging forward.

This is a disaster. You’ve managed to only bump into one sidekick who’d made it deeper into the remains of the compound but even that small fight had been enough to aggravate your injuries. Your vision swims as you rush towards the sound of the fighting. You know your dad’s been using quirk enhancing drugs lately and the pros aren’t prepared for that kind of firepower. You want nothing more than to just sit down, close your eyes, and try to heal yourself, maybe even take a nap, but there’s no time. You’re the only one who can stop your dad now. You know it in your gut. So you push through the pain and the slight dizziness to keep moving. You’re nearly knocked off your feet as a series of explosions shakes the compound, followed by an all too familiar battle cry of “DIE!” Fear surges through your veins like ice. You’d recognize Bakugo’s voice anywhere and even if you couldn’t there’s not exactly a ton of explosive heroes who threaten to murder villains out there. Bakugo would never come alone, which means more of your friends are surely in the fray and in danger. You grit your teeth, focusing on them and your determination to save them, and start running towards the commotion glowing only faintly but enough to hold you together.

Shoto has never fought this hard his entire life. He lands hard on his side but quickly rolls to recover and get back on his feet. He throws up a wall of ice, partly to slow Dabi’s progress as he comes surging towards him, but partially to stave off the after effects from using his left side so much. Sweat pours off his forehead as he desperately tries to hold off from overheating. As Dabi burns through his ice, Shoto launches himself forward to meet his brother halfway. He’ll be damned if he loses this fight. He has to get to you, especially if what Dabi said about your condition is the truth. For a single moment Shoto manages to pin Touya down but before he can do anything more he notices Dabi’s gaze is focused not on him but something off to the side. “Your girlfriend finally joined the fray,” Dabi grins, causing Shoto to immediately snap his head that direction to find you. Relief floods him at seeing you alive but he’s snapped back into the moment as Dabi suddenly engulfs the two of them in flames, causing Shoto to rear back with a curse. “Don’t get distracted baby brother, this fight isn’t over,” Dabi taunts as he uses Shoto’s momentary distraction to get the upper hand. Fire and ice both emerge as Shoto is filled with another wave of determination. He’s so close to getting you back, he won’t let you slip through his fingers again.

The chaos is even worse than you thought when you finally get to where all the fighting is. All around you your friends and various pros are battling villains. Buildings further down the street are burning where Tamaki is trying to keep the villains contained to a smaller area. To your right Shoto is locked in combat with Dabi and frankly it takes your breath away. Shoto is magnificent. You’ve never seen him look so resolute before and you distantly wonder if that’s the real reason Dabi exposed your location: to see this side of his younger brother. You probably could have stood there just watching the two of them forever but a loud crashing noise to your left jerks your attention away as you watch Endeavor hit the ground hard after your father had thrown him. Your stomach sinks when you notice what rough shape he’s in. You knew this would happen the moment you found out your father was using quirk enhancers but it’s still unnerving to see the number one hero struggle so much. You look up to see your father grinning like a mad man, clearly delighting in the pain of a man he once claimed to love like family. More importantly, however, you also can see the characteristic black veins crawling up the side of his neck. Steroids or not, your quirk still comes with a price. Your father is just about to deal what looks suspiciously like a fatal blow as he gathers a large mass of shadows into both hands but before they can reach Endeavor you jump in front of the fallen hero and unleash your own blast of shadows to dissipate your father’s.

You think you hear Endeavor say something behind you but the words fall on deaf ears as you watch your father’s face twist into a grimace of betrayal and rage. “I should’ve known you’d choose them,” he spits before unleashing another torrent of inky blackness shooting towards you. You widen your stance to brace yourself and then unleash your own torrent back with your right hand, using your free hand to brace it. “After all I did for you, this is how you repay me? You traitorous bitch,” he accuses, his voice roaring over the sounds of battle around you. Rage burns through you at his words and you embrace it wholeheartedly as you continue to push back against him. “All you did was abuse and traumatize me,” you bite out. Your head is throbbing but you can’t let up, not now, not when you’re so close to ridding yourself of your father for good. “I did it to make you stronger! You could’ve been the most powerful person in all of Japan, we could’ve built an empire together!” he responds, as if somehow that justifies how he’s treated you; as if that empire wouldn’t be built atop the corpses of innocents. “I am strong. Stronger than you. In spite of you, not because of you,” you shout.

After that final declaration, you’re done talking. Instead you close your eyes, grit your teeth, and you think of every single time your father abused you, every time you lashed out at those you loved because of the trauma he ingrained in you, every time you suffered because of his crimes. You think of your poor mother who works double and triple shifts so she can provide for you. You think of that fateful day your father brought you into work and traumatized you out of his own selfish desire to mold you into what he wanted you to be. You think of all of the pain and hurt and anger and you pour it into your quirk even as black veins start to crawl up on your own skin, even as they climb up your forearm, then your shoulder, then your neck, and onto the right side of your face. Your entire right side feels like it’s on fire but you push and push through until you finally start to feel the resistance from your father giving way as his quirk overwhelms him. You hear yelling and it takes a minute to realize that the raw, pained sound is coming from you as you push and push and push until finally you feel the resistance fade completely and the shadows you’d sent out connect with your father. You gasp as you finally release your quirk although you notice the right side of your body is still on fire. Your head feels fuzzy and your vision is definitely swimming but you push through it. You have to make sure it’s over. Your father sways on his feet, eyes empty and black veins completely marring his face. After a moment his body collapses to the ground completely limp and relief floods through you.

It’s over.

It’s finally fucking over.

As the adrenaline slowly starts to drain out of you, you hear someone call out your name. They sound panicked. Why do they sound panicked? You turn to the source of the voice slowly as the world starts to spin around you. You vaguely recognize Shoto’s alarmed face as he sprints towards you before everything goes black and you collapse.

A/N: This took me literally all of yesterday to write and was difficult to start but holy shit am I happy with how it turned out. We’re entering the home stretch ladies and gentlemen.

Taglist: @sorrythatspussynal @miss-bakugo-writes @pixelwisp @larkspyrr @sokkaandzukosimp @akkaso @sunaispretty @shot0stea @todoplusultra @oliviasslut @lapysllazuly @immah0e4fictionalmen @cinnamonruts

(Bold means I couldn’t tag you)

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ladyeliot · 3 years

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The September Foundation Grant

Request: @iawaythrown Avengers x Teen reader. The reader is a brilliant engineer, that makes (grade A+) battle armor & weapons. The Vulture and the reader works together by selling these illegal armor & weapons. (The Vulture even gives the reader profit because the reader lives alone) The reader learns at school (The R is the quiet/loner kid) about Vulture getting arrested and they soon decide to leave New York and disappear. They grab all their money and leave but is followed/arrested by Tony and Peter at the reader house. They learn that the Vulture snitched on him. Ending could be up to you.

Pairing: Vulture / Iron Man / Spider-man x Teen!Reader

Warnings: Illegal work.

Word count: 1829

A/N: Sorry it took so long! / Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

Anything could happen in New York City. A place that never slept, that was always awake at all hours, where criminals and children went everywhere hand in hand. Everything was hidden, but also in plain sight, if you knew where to look. Its streets were a labyrinth, but they always led to a way out, everything had an end. Its neighbourhoods were small communities distributed by culture or social status, but that did not prevent them from relating to each other. A teenager raised in Queens might have different limitations than one raised in the Upper East Side, but it all depends on the person. What I mean is, you never know what your life is going to be like in New York City.

Your mind was in constant operation, even if you wanted it to, it never stopped, it never rested, in a millisecond the thought passed through it 'when was the last time I slept'. You were in a hangar near the Harlem docks, this lucrative activity occupied a large part of your free time after high school, taking up your weekends as well. You could call it 'extracurricular activity' or also 'gainful employment', or maybe a combination of both, after all you were improving your engineering skills and earning money for it.

You had been enrolled in that new business for more than five months, your expectations for the future had changed, now you weren't so sure if going to university was what you really wanted. You were not driven by the easy money, what you were doing was much more than that, it was money, knowledge and all the adrenaline possible to do something legally binding. All the talent that you thought would be wasted and that you had never been valued was now being used to do something else, to be someone in the world, even if it was in the hidden world.

You designed, created and crafted technologically advanced combat armour and weaponry, you built things you hardly thought you would be able to make. All you needed was the time and the facilities that Adrian Toomes had offered you. He discovered you, he had set his sights on you and trusted you, something that many other people had not done before. In your past years you dreamed of getting a position at MIT, but now it was no longer among your priorities, at least for the time being.

Adrian's discovery came about in the most natural way possible. You were attending Midtown School of Science and Technology, and one day during a chemistry class the teacher had the brilliant idea of paired assignments, so you were paired with Liz Toomes. Liz is a really intelligent young woman, the problem in question was the wide difference between your characters, your quiet countenance and your passivity for social relations caused discomfort among your classmates, but leaving that aside, you decided to go to her house to do the work. It was there that you met her father, Adrian, who found your project notebook when you dropped it on your way to Liz's room. He was clever, slipping in a note with his personal phone number expressing his interest in your projects. At first you were completely shy of the idea, but eventually you agreed, otherwise you wouldn't be in that situation.

The first project you did was an improvement to his exo-suit, he had been working on it for years, but for reasons you didn't know he didn't want to tell you who had helped him make it, he just told you that you had everything you needed at your disposal and that he wanted to see what you could be able to do, and so he did.

Since that day the small business you had in your hands had evolved, Toomes was in charge of the public-facing transactions, and you were hidden away carrying the full weight of engineering. But that didn't mean that when you went back out on the streets you became a normal teenager again.

On a Monday like any other Monday, New York City was glowing in the sunlight. On the drive to school we went over in a steady stream what we had studied for the maths exam you had in the fourth period, although it was really something you had passed a long time ago. You kept yourself hidden under a pair of headphones, listening for anything that would prevent you from interacting with people. Your day-to-day actions when you walked through that door were mechanical. You walked thirty-three steps down the main corridor, turned right, twenty-seven steps to your locker, entered code 5432, opened it and took your books, dropped off your lunch, closed it again and headed for your class, trying not to bump into anyone who crossed your path. That, day after day.

But that day, that second between songs, when your ears came back to the real world you heard a word "Vulture". Your senses quickly focused on the conversation that group of girls were having, you stopped the music and without looking at them you sharpened your hearing.

"My cousin just sent me the video," one of them said, showing her mobile phone to the others. "He was arrested tonight, on the Harlem waterfront. Isn't Spider-man cool?"

"Wow!" exclaims one.

"I can't believe the Vulture is Liz's dad," adds another girl. "By the way does anyone know anything about her?"

That conversation caused a pang inside you. You quickly, but as calmly as possible, closed your locker and headed in the opposite direction of the entire student body, heading back outside. You knew what this meant, your mind had explored various scenarios about the possible events that could happen if the FBI or anyone else discovered you. You knew what you had to do, how to do it and where to go, you had created a plan in your head. You didn't trust Adrian to take all the blame and you would come out of the situation unscathed, you were a minor and could always appeal to a corrupt situation, but that wasn't your style either.

Step by step you were fulfilling your plan, the first thing was to erase any traces that implicated you in those events, you had to go home and get rid of everything you had in your possession that implicated you, both physically and virtually, then it would be better for you to disappear for some time, you had plenty of money to do so and you knew that your family would not care too much where you were.

You went into the house, you had hours ahead of you until one of your parents returned. You went to your room and began to tidy up every gadget or item on your bed that connected you to the crime. It took you very little time compared to how long it took you to erase your fingerprints from the virtual world, it was obvious that you kept your figure hidden under a pseudonym, but every weapon or armour that the FBI had confiscated had your fingerprint on it, a fingerprint that could lead them to you.

The hours passed, you knew that sooner or later your parents were going to walk through the door, time was running out for you to catch a bus out of that city. You opted to pack up your things, leave that note and continue erasing data during the long trip to Arizona, but it was too late. A loud noise from the hallway alerted you that your time had come to an end.

"Ms. Y/L/N, you know what they say about sometimes you have to run before you walk?" Iron Man appeared before your eyes. "Too slow."

The armour that stood before you cut off your main passage to the exit, though you knew in your gut that there was little you could do against it without outside help. Slowly you reached inside your backpack and pulled out one of your unfinished projects, a laser that fired a powerful beam at the armour. That mere distraction allowed you to turn around and head inside your bedroom with the intention of climbing out of your window and down the fire escape, however as you were about to do so a body burst through the window, launching a slimy mass that stuck you to the wall of your room. In front of you Iron Man and Spider-man, both staring at you, and you feeling the most vulnerable being at that moment.

"Wow!" Spider-Man picked up the laser from the floor. "This is cool! What kind of energy does it work with?"

"Hey kid! Put that down," his ally informed him. "Okay, do you know why we're here?" he asked waiting for an answer that never came. "Not very talkative, I understand, I was going to explain it to you anyway, do you know Adrian Toomes? I guess so, at least he knows you, he gave your name." your face hardened. "Yeah, well, I wouldn't be that surprised."

You remained impassive, listening to his every word and trying to form a plan in your head that would help you escape the situation.

"Listen, I have no intention of selling you out to the police," suddenly the Iron Man suit vanished, revealing the figure of Tony Stark before your eyes. "I admire you, I really do, well I don't mean I admire that you joined a group of criminals and created technologically enhanced weapons and sold them, but I admire your skills.

"Isn't that what you've done?" you finally interjected, responding to her retorts.

"Oh! She speaks!" he pointed at you, looking at Spider-man. "Good point. But to the point, you decide, you either come with us and decide to join the good side, or we leave you here for your parents to find you, explain everything that's happened and then to the police. You decide. The clock is ticking."

Your mind was reactivated again, it was clear that there were two options and only one of them was within your prospects. It might take you a while to forgive yourself for what you were going to do next, but it was your only way out. You nodded slowly and clenched your jaw tightly as you surrendered to those in front of you.

"Good choice," Tony said with a nod as Spider-man released you from those webs that had invaded your body.

From down the hall you heard the front door open and two people walked in, engaged in conversation, your parents. Your eyes widened exponentially.

"Just in time," Tony said. "See you later, kid. And you and I," he looked at you, "are going to explain to your parents about the September Foundation Grant."

Requests/Taglist Open (DM)

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criticalroleisdestroyingme · 3 years

Text

Oh Death

She said to me

"Oh, Death

Come close my eyes, woah"

I know, I'm more fool than wise

After losing the Mighty Nein in Nicodranas, Astrid and Eadwulf are sent on their next assignment. Tracking a loose end in the Frozen North, they stumble across a few more surprises, and the pieces start to add up.

The aforementioned songfic of "Oh Death" by SUGR?. Canon divergent at the end of C2E131. Written from the perspective of a highly angsty Astrid with plenty of Blumendrei and Shadowgast. Advice for Essek based on this post by @slayerscake.

A note to those who count the words of Sending - I kept it accurate to where Matt took a pause for Astrid’s Sending back to Jester, of 26 and 24.