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#but I didn’t get any ships sent or commented until like two days later
sophysourpatch · 2 months
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Hey sorry it’s late, I’m still working on the pt. 2 of my valentines/ship post I just haven’t made it yet lol
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bus-stop-to-kpop · 1 year
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Kingom Reaction #1 - You have a Dating Rumor
(You are also an Idol in this one)
Requested?: No
Word Count: around 100 - 150 each
A/N: I really love Kingdom so it’s a little sad to see how little content there is on them, but fear not I’m here to give you a lot!
I realized that some of them might be more of a shipping scenario than an actual dating rumor, but I didn’t know what else to call it.
Either way have fun reading :) ~Admin J
Dann: You're a guest at his Radio show, Radio'n'Us, being sent to represent your group.
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Viewers instantly managed to catch how well the two of you seemed to get along. Both of you were all smiley during the interview section, laughing at jokes the other made, no matter how bad they were.
They were also quick to notice the blush spreading across your cheeks whenever Dann complimented your voice. Since you were shy it always embarrassed you to get praised like that.
Of course you also took a picture together for the Instagram account of the radio and many pointed out how good you looked together.
And then there was also the post on your groups official account about how nice Dann had been to you and how much fun you had during the interview.
Obviously any sweet interaction like that would make the fans minds go wild with scenarios.
Arthur: Both of you are the main dancers of your respective groups so you were paired to do a performance together at one of the end of the year award shows.
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Since both of you were passionate about dancing you wanted to make sure to give the audience an amazing performance. And you did.
After the performance many people commented how harmonious you looked while dancing and how it seemed like the two of you had been dancing together for years.
When the behind the scenes and dance practice videos came out netizens pointed out how well you got along, joking around with each other and just having fun in general.
It left everyone questioning if you were more than just project partners for this dance.
Mujin: You post a picture of you at the same location.
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When you posted a picture of yourself on a walk at Han river you didn't think anything of it. Simply wanting your fans to know how you were spending your time off after just finishing your latest promotion.
Only for your phone to blow up with notifications, Mujin had also posted a picture at Han river the day prior.
Netizens immediately concluded that you must have gone on a walk together and took pictures of each other only to post it for your Lovestargram.
Even though Mujin and you opened up about it only being a coincidence, many fans still liked to believe the two of you were dating.
Louis: He used to be friends with your brother.
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Him and your brother were both on the schools soccer team and used to be good friends, so he often came over to your house.
However once he became a trainee he lost touch with your brother.
He's surprised to suddenly see you a few feet away from him as he is waiting for the MC to announce the winner of today's music show.
Being the extroverted person he is, he approaches you when walking off stage, unaware that you were still in frame of the camera.
So your little interaction quickly sparked rumors.
Ivan: You accidentally bump into him at ISAC.
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It wasn't on purpose obviously, you were simply too focused on interacting with your fans while walking backwards to notice Ivan's tall figure behind you.
Almost losing your balance Ivan wrapped an arm around you to make sure you didn't fall.
Fans at the venue would laugh about the way you were rapidly bowing while apologizing as Ivan tried to promise you it was completely fine and he was happy you didn't get hurt.
Pictures of Ivan's arm wrapped around you would later be taken out of context, spreading a rumor about how the two of you were obviously in love with each other, until someone released the full video of you bumping into him.
Hwon: You use similar phrases while communicating with fans.
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Since it hasn't been long since his debut, he's still a little awkward when it comes to communicating with fans.
So he takes notes on how other idols act with their fandom.
He really likes the way you use your words, so he adapts some of your phrases for his weverse posts, like the way you wish people a good morning or good night.
Fans are quick to spot this.
Hwon is embarrassed about it, causing a rumor about the two of you so shortly after his official debut, he immediately stops trying to text like you and find his own style of communication.
Once he does, he realizes that sometimes you will use a phrase similar to his or just the same.
He's not sure if you're doing it unknowingly or if you're trying to poke fun at the rumors.
Jahan: You film a dance challenge together.
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Due to promoting at the same time you were seeing each other quite frequently, so obviously he would take the chance and ask you to do their dance challenge with him.
He gives you the option to back out, not wanting to bother you, but you happily agree.
The next time you meet backstage you ask him to take part in your dance challenge in return. So you film the video and upload it soon after on your groups official account.
Seeing how Jahan and you already met twice backstage netizens start gossiping about what else could be happening when you meet backstage.
Maybe some Romance blossoming?
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kalpasio · 1 year
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The Several Attempts To Make You Aware
Attempt 1
A 5 + 1 Kalpas x Reader fic request, chapter 1 below!
“He’s cute,” a voice cooed from the end of the hall. Shoulders tense, Kalpas whipped around, ready to start his sixth fight of the day. “I take it the mission went well if you’re bringing someone back.” Clearly whoever was speaking wanted to taunt Sakura more than Kalpas, but that didn’t make him any less furious.
Lucky for you, Sakura caught his arm before he could lunge down the hall. “The mission was…odd,” she spoke carefully while recalling the events of the night. “This is Kalpas, You two might be interested in fighting once we get him settled in.”
“I think you’re just trying to get out of having your ass laid out.” The voice sounded cockier now, and that confidence turned into a full-blown laugh when both Sakura and Kalpas scoffed at the comment.
“No,” Sakura assured, “I just know you like a challenge.”
“Right,” there was another laugh. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re back. You better be in the training hall tomorrow, or I’ll come fight you wherever you are.”
That was the first time Kalpas met you. bold comments and striking figure immediately sticking in his mind. When he saw you again what in the practice ring a few weeks later, he was definitely interested in you. When you spent thirty minutes beating him in that ring and laughing as he became more and more enraged, he knew he wanted to spend humanity’s last days fighting by your side.
He just didn’t expect it to take so long for you to get the message.
“Aww, baby’s first mission!”
If you were anyone else, he would’ve bitten the hand that now rested on his head and torn the person to shreds. But you were you, and Kalpas was way more smitten than he cared to admit, so the hand stayed, and all you got was a growl that made you chuckle. You may have let him grab your wrist to pull your hand away, but the teasing didn’t stop. Instead, your hand moved in his grasp so you could weave your fingers between his own. 
Kalpas tried to twist his hand away, but as much as he hated to admit it, you were much stronger than him. You’d already received the Meta-Morph surgery, and while Kalpas was expected to get it eventually, he hadn’t yet. If you wanted to hold his hand, the most he could do was protest loudly—not that he would.
Since it was his first Fire Moth mission, Kalpas was being deployed with several other MOTHs, but due to his…frequent bouts of rage, you’d been assigned to specifically keep an eye on him. As soon as he’d officially joined Fire Moth, Kalpas stuck to you and Sakura like glue. Originally, you’d both been told to keep him out of trouble, but after a week or so, he gave up avoiding you two and would follow you around the base.
In your mind, he was like an angry little puppy. Teeth too small to hurt, though he’d still go around trying to bite everything. The only fights you’d seen him in were against you, and you’d easily sent him flying across the room. While you believed Sakura’s claims that he’d been a challenge for her to fight, you were more willing to chalk that up to her being tired and losing her gear than Kalpas actually being that strong.
And he knew you believed that. Everything you did proved to Kalpas that you really didn’t see him as a capable fighter, and it made his blood boil. You’d pat his head, coo at him like he was a dog, and when you trained together, you would correct him like you did the new recruits. Even when the ship set down for his first mission, you were fussing over him until he pushed you out of the way.
It was a simple job, one even he couldn’t fuck up, you’d said. Once the plane landed everyone would be let off and instructed to secure a perimeter to keep any Honkai from escaping, so civilians outside could be kept safe. Once that was established, stronger MOTHs would move in to help with evacuation, and ridding the town of larger Honkai beasts.
All Kalpas cared about was the fact that he’d be killing Honkai. And you’d be watching. With you on the mission, the place could be secured and cleared in a matter of minutes, but the point was for the newbies to get some experience under their belt, so unless instructed otherwise, you weren’t allowed to even have your gun out.
“Gun” was a loose term. It was a whole damn cannon, but you usually only sent out small shots that looked like small flashes of light. A flick of your wrist, and a spark, and you’d topple a whole Ganesha. Bringing your hands together in front of you, your whole cannon would appear, and forget about killing Honkai, you were blasting a hole clean through them. Kalpas had been livid when he found out you used a weapon; your hand-to-hand combat laid his ass out in second. The fact that you weren’t even trying in fights against him was infuriating.
On one hand, Kalpas was disappointed he wouldn’t get to see you fight in the field, but on the other, this was his chance to show you he could handle himself, and then some. Where other recruits were taking thirty seconds to fight a beast, Kalpas took maybe five. Between his impressive fighting and loud shouting, he certainly caught your attention.
At least for a bit. When he had a break in the fight to glance at you, your eyes had always been on him up to this point. Sometimes you’d even give him a thumbs-up that you were sure had his eyes rolling behind his mask. This time, however, your eyes were glued straight ahead, looking into the distance slightly concerned.
“What?” Kalpas gave a condescending laugh, though you had yet to hear him give one that wasn’t. “You finally realize I’m not some weakling?” he sneered. You didn’t even spare him a glance.
“Yeah, you’re doing gre—”
The moment your comms went off, you were answering. Kalpas didn’t hear what words were exchanged, too busy with resuming his fight, but two seconds later, the Honkai in front of him fell dead, and you were standing in their place.
“You need to go back to the ship,” you gave a look that was more serious than Kalpas had ever seen you use before. “I don’t have time to babysit you, and I don’t have time to argue. Get your ass back to the ship—"
“You think I’d pass up a fight?”
“Then be an idiot and follow me. I don’t care what you do, but I’m not waiting up for you.” True to your word, you took off with a speed only a MANTIS could have achieved, heading towards the center of the city.
Keeping up with you was physically impossible, but Kalpas sure could follow the trail of burnt Honkai remains you were leaving behind. Soon enough, he could feel the Earth shaking from the battle between you and the Varuna that took up half a city block. The size of the creature didn’t seem to faze you in the least, and despite the dozens of Honkai zombies attempting to swarm you, it was apparent you had the upper hand.
Never one to sit by idly, Kalpas jumped into the fight with zero hesitation and started clearing the smaller mobs closest to him. Knights and zombies crowded him, and with each one he killed, his rage grew, until the group thinned out enough that he could see you. Now that you didn’t have to bother with the lower-level monsters, you were able to focus on the beast in front of you.
It moved slowly, so you were able to get off fully charged shots between the swipes of its claws. The absurd amount of resilience it had meant it was taking you some time to whittle it down, but you hadn’t taken a single hit in the process. One last attack brought the damn thing down, and you stumbled a bit with how violently the ground shook. Looking behind you, you saw Kalpas taking care of the final enemy. His head whipped around, searching for his next target, but the only thing in sight was you giving him another cheeky thumbs-up and a smile.
An irritated groan broke from his chest—why weren’t you reveling in the fight you’d just won? What was with that dopey grin you always had on? He was still trying to get over the drastic switch from when you’d sternly told him to stay behind, to now, when you walk past him, slapping his shoulder on the way.
“Come on new guy, you gotta go clear the path back to the ship for us. This is your mission, not mine.” You spoke while continuing on your way, and Kalpas questioned what could’ve made him like you enough to put up with this. Even you ignored what you had just said, leading the way back to the main group. The number of Honkai beasts had dwindled to almost nothing, and the only enemy you saw on the walk back was a disabled mech who’s eye still faintly glowed red.
Not even bothering to explain where you’d disappeared to, you lazily waved to the other MANTIS on the mission and continued on your way to the dropship. Kalpas truly did not care about the other leader, and really didn’t care if he got in trouble for bailing, so he followed you onto the plane and reclaimed his seat next to you for the trip back. Having a few minutes to think about it now, Kalpas remembered the deadly look in your eyes during all of your fights, and the way you let nothing bother you while still refusing to let others walk over you.
Did he love you?
How the fuck should he know? It didn’t matter anyway, he was willing to put up with whatever bullshit he had to, to see you fight every day. So right now, before the others boarded, would be the perfect time to tell you.
Kalpas got so far as to take a breath in, but before he could speak or face you, your head landed on his shoulder. Immediately, he froze. This is not what he wanted. But…it wasn’t bad he supposed. Not ideal—he couldn’t tell you what he’d wanted to say, but it was far more comfortable than he expected. When you all got off the ship, he’d tell you then. For now, crossing his arms, and sinking a little deeper into the seat so your neck was at a better angle seemed like the best option.
Every trainee who glanced at you two got a look that quickly sent them to their seats. When the other MANTIS came over to try to talk to you, Kalpas growled, and clenched his jaw beneath his mask. The poor guy seemed to take the hint and backed off, retreating to the front of the plane to tell the pilot everyone was onboard. You, meanwhile, hadn’t the faintest idea what was happening. All you knew was that you were tired, and warm, and unless the plane was on fire, you were not getting up.
Safely back at the Fire Moth base, the plane landing must’ve woken you, because you were awake before Kalpas even moved. Recruits chatted amongst themselves and filed out of the dropship while you stretched from your nap, until you and Kalpas were the only ones left in the cabin. This was it. Kalpas stood, took another breath, and—
“Hey! I heard you got called to fight a judgement class beast! What the hell, why wasn’t I invited?”
Whoever this MANTIS was, Kalpas was going to kill him.
He chatted with you as the two of you exited the plane, and all Kalpas got was a “great work out there!” before you were gone. He was pissed, and if he didn’t respect you so damn much, he would’ve punched the other guy in the face and said what he had to say. You had him wrapped around you finger, and more upsettingly, you didn’t even realize it!
Whatever. You could talk to MANTIS dude, and Kalpas could storm out of the ship, and he’d just tell you later. The two of you spent time together almost every day, he’d tell you eventually.
And thus began Kalpas’ several attempts at securing a place by your side
None of my stories timelines match up. Because if Mihoyo doesn't have to follow their lore, neither do I. (also I don't understand it, but I've learned that's not entirely my fault)
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officialleehadan · 3 years
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Claxon Call
The Quasar was a ship unlike any ever built. In fact, it wasn’t built as a single ship at all, but was rather a series of destroyers that had been fused together. The garden domes, were added later, and so were most of the more serious weapons, and armor. All in all, it was a fortress, and not one that most people were willing to challenge.
So when the claxons sounded, and the shields dropped, Cuira called her handmaidens together, sat them down, and determinedly kept calm.
“There is nothing we can do to affect the battle,” Cuira told them as she took a seat beneath her lemon tree again, and reached for her basket. It held half a dozen half-finished projects of various sorts, and she chose one at random. The one that came to hand was her bobbin-lace pillow, and she got it settled on her lap with hands that barely shook. It wasn’t her first space-battle, and she was used to being left to wait and see what happened. “Better to get comfortable. Does anyone have anything to read aloud?”
“Bess has a book of poetry,” Mariza said. Like Cuira, she was afraid, but she hid it well. All of Cuira’s handmaidens had some combat training, but they were chosen to be decorative, and as a last chance for survival, not as warriors. She set her picnic basket in the center of their ring in case anyone got hungry. Cuira doubted any of them could stand to eat, but then, she didn’t know any of her six maids terribly well. Mostly, it was because they were a somewhat flighty lot. “Bess, would you read to us? It might- it might help with the noise.”
“Alright,” Bess said, braver than Cuira expected. She was afraid, like they all were, but given a little instruction, she seemed to do reasonably well. “If- If Your Majesty doesn’t mind, it’s mostly about flowers.”
“I don’t mind,” Cuira assured her. Given, poetry about flowers wasn’t her first choice, but they didn’t have much in the way of options unless someone happened to have a communications padd handy, which she rather doubted. Cuira herself preferred actual books in her hands, a product of a decidedly old-fashioned education that put emphasis on the permanence of physical knowledge. Go ahead if you like. The rest of you, talk as you will, but please keep your voices low for those who are listening.”
There was a murmur of frightened agreement around the circle, but some of the tension faded away. Bess was one of the youngest maids, but she read well, and the poems turned out to be about the small personifications of the flowers themselves, and was much more enjoyable than Cuira expected. The rest of the maids spoke quietly amongst themselves, and offered soft thanks when Cuira opened her craft-basket to them.
Anything that helped to distract frum the thunderous explosions that rocked the ship was welcome.
A claxon sounded in the distance, just near enough to be heard, and Cuira determinedly ignored it. Either there was danger, or there wasn’t, and there was very little chance any of them would be much help in any situation at present. Another claxon sounded, closer this time, and the garden dome shuddered furiously as something struck it.
It went on for more than an hour. The shudder of impact on the dome, and the ship around it. The claxons that sounded, and silenced, and sounded again somewhere else. The distinctive rumble of the Quasar’s huge engines roaring to life, ready to maneuver them amidst the unseen fight outside. Cuira determinedly kept her mind on her project, and her ears on Bess’s poetry as her maids talked nervously around her. When the battle came up as a topic, she gently steered them onto softer topics.
No need to allow themselves to become frantic.
Halfway through the battle, Cuira noticed the gardeners of the dome creeping closer, not out of aggression, but seeking what little stability they could find in the moment. She caught their eyes, one by one, and gave each a small nod of permission. One by one, they settled, politely distant from her circle of maids, but close enough to hear Bess.
Perhaps some would scold her for allowing the workers of the ship so near, but she knew these gardeners. They were often the friendliest faces she saw all day, and they never bothered her when she sought the peace of the gardens. Now, they were afraid, and she could offer them some comfort in return.
A massive explosion made the whole ship tilt, and the stabilizers fired. Cuira found herself tumbling sideways as the ground dropped away to her left. Flailing hands caught hers, and she pulled herself into a tight knot with her maids, supported by the planters to either side of them.
“Stay calm,” she instructed, even though her own heart pounded. She hoped it didn’t show in her voice. “His Majesty will settle matters soon enough. There is no reason to panic.”
Mariza snorted in her ear, and Cuira elbowed her, but didn’t comment. Soon enough, the ship tilted back to level, and Cuira breathed a sigh of relief. When no more explosions followed, she gathered her lace back onto her lap, and put her back to the planter just in case the ship listed again. It took Bess two tries to start reading again, but she managed it and Cuira gave her a smile of approval. Perhaps she had been too hard on her maids. They were doing their best, and she was not an easy charge.
Finally, the alarms silenced, and did not return. The explosions faded away, and the Quasar fell still, at peace once more. Cuira waited until Bess finished her latest poem, about the mischievous spirit of a chestnut tree, and then got to her feet. The rest of her maids scrambled to follow.
“It seems the battle is over,” she said, and shook her skirts out, before she tucked her lace away in her basket. It went over to redheaded Nina, who looped it over her arm without a word. “Mariza, Whiloh, Hanni, Brihn, with me. The rest of you, back to my chambers. With luck, I will return soon with news. Until then, be safe and stay out of the way if you can. We don’t know what new enemy has dared to attack our home.”
+++ Forging an Empire:
Cuira was sent to marry a man who would soon rule a substantial part of their galaxy. She would have been happier about it if she had a chance to meet him first.
Garden Dome
+++
More Stories!
+++
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tanyawritesstories · 3 years
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Keep It Warm | Commander Wolffe x Reader
I couldn't not post a fic on May 4th, it's Star Wars day for Makers sake 😝 so have some sexy Commander Wolffe and May the Force be with you!
Word count: 3.3k
Warnings: smut, NSFW, cockwarming, voyeurism, oral (m receiving), spanking, edging, brat taming, orgasm denial, Sinker & Boost get a little action, masturbation, Wolffe is the second best dom in the GAR
•••
Wolffe looked up from his desk and was hit with a wave of emotions as you stood just inside the door: namely frustration, disappointment, and lust. He couldn’t believe the audacity you had to stroll into his office after the stunts you had pulled. To top that off, he had called you to his office an hour ago and you just now showed up. You clearly needed a lesson in manners.
It had started as a bit of revenge. Wolffe hadn’t even kissed you since he got back from his mission, which had been two weeks ago! You teased him by unbuttoning your shirt more than usual and bending over whenever you knew he was watching. You had hung out in the mess until he had shown up before flirting with Sinker, who knew all about your plan. Wolffe had glared daggers into both you and his sergeant to no avail.
The entire day you had teased him and at this point it was just becoming fun to see him pent up and frustrated, knowing sooner or later he would take said frustration out on you. Or at least you hoped he would. He didn’t tolerate much from you, and, as much as you enjoyed it, even you thought you might be pushing the envelope this time. Especially when you had, on impulse, taken your chance and spanked Boost as he was walking by. You had almost hurt your hand smacking the plastoid hard enough that Boost would feel it. The trooper reacted surprised but winked back at you and sent you a look that made your knees weak. That time you hadn’t known Wolffe was watching.
You weren’t sure what finally made Wolffe snap and call you to his office, but when he had, you were actually working and so waited until you had finished your assignment. Now you stood just inside the door, waiting for him to say something.
He beckoned you closer with a finger, you made a show of rolling your eyes and reluctantly walking to stand in front of his desk. He looked you up and down, you could see the stern and judgemental look in his dark eyes.
"Why were you late?" He asked, his voice surprisingly calm.
"I was busy," you replied curtly.
"I see. Too busy to follow your Commander's orders?"
You stayed silent, not sure what kind of response or reaction he was looking for. "Given that they were unprofessional orders, I figured they could wait." His eyes narrowed at you. Well that was the wrong answer. "What have you been doing all day?" He questioned.
"Work."
He huffed a breath out his nose in annoyance. "No, Kitten, you've been naughty. Why?"
You finally broke and began rambling. "It's your fault! You've been back from your mission for two weeks and haven't even shown me a lick of attention. I know I shouldn't drag you away from your work, but fucking hell, Wolffe. Two weeks!"
"So that's what this is about?" He asked, rising from his chair. “That’s unfortunate for you, baby. I was going to make tonight special for you, but now you’ve pissed me off. My side of the desk, now.”
You sighed, feeling defeated and annoyed. You crossed your arms with a huff and walked to his side, bending over the desk without having to be told.
“Look at that! You are capable of being a good girl, you just don’t want to,” Wolffe mocked.
“Just fucking spank me if you’re going to,” you snapped, ready to be done and get back to work. Wolffe’s fingers dug into your hair and he yanked your head back. His hand came down harshly between your legs, not where you were expecting. You yelped and he slapped your cunt again.
“Wolffe!” you exclaimed, “What the hell?”
“You better watch your tongue, Kitten. I had planned on letting you cum, but now every time you mouth off I’m pushing it back one hour.” He snarled.
“Are you serious?” You tried turning your head to look at him but he kept your head straight.
“That’s two hours now.”
You groaned in frustration and gave up trying to fight him. This was Wolffe, he would get what he wanted. You heard him sit back down in his chair, but his hands never left your hips, his thumbs pressing into the skin between your ass and thighs.
“You wet yet, kitten?” he purred.
That line alone, said in his gruff but smooth voice was enough to make you soaked. One of his hands left your hip, his knuckles dragging against your clothed heat.
“Y-yes, sir,” you answered.
Wolffe just hummed as his hands wandered up to the waist of your pants. In one swift movement he yanked them and your panties down to your knees. You squeaked as he exposed your wet flesh to the cool air.
He kicked your legs apart and slowly dragged one finger through your soaked folds. "You're wet but I need you wetter," he commented.
"If you'd let me cum that might help," you mumbled.
Wolffe flicked his finger against your clit, the pleasant sting making you release a strangled moan.
"That's three hours now."
You rolled your eyes, at least he couldn't see that. You heard him spit into his hand before he cupped your pussy with it, smearing his saliva around. You bit your lip trying to hold in the lewd noises that threatened to spill from your lips.
You couldn't hold them in when he eased his middle finger into you, wiggling it around and sending bolts of pleasure through your body. He fingered you tantalizingly slow. Enough to stimulate you but not enough to make you cum. He had gotten this down to a science.
He could feel your slickness increase and your walls flutter around his thick digit. Once he decided you were wet enough he removed his finger. You whined in protest and were so caught up in how he was denying you that you didn't hear him undoing his trousers.
He suddenly grabbed your hips in an iron grip and pulled you back towards him. Your back hit his chest and he lined his cock up with your entrance before shoving you down on him.
The noise you made was something between a moan and a yelp, your body tightening with the unexpected intrusion.
"That could've hurt," you grumbled.
Wolffe took one hand and placed it on your stomach, pressing down he was able to feel how deep he was inside you. "Careful, kitten. You're up to four hours now." He took his other hand and used two fingers to stroke lightly over your clit. "And you're going to sit here and look pretty while you keep my cock warm for every one of those hours."
Your mouth gaped open, four hours! You loved sitting on Wolffe's cock but four hours was a long time. He was nestled snugly inside you, hot and throbbing. This might be impossible.
Wolffe reached up and undid the rest of the buttons on your shirt, letting it hang open. You felt tight around him and he could feel every little ripple your muscles made.
"Now don't misbehave, I have work to finish," he said.
He kept a strong arm around your hips, keeping you still while he looked over reports on his datapad. You sighed dramatically and Wolffe pinched your inner thigh in response. You leaned back against his chest and made yourself comfortable, you were going to be here for a while.
~~~~
As if just sitting on Wolffe's hard, impressive cock was difficult enough, every so often he would shallowly thrust up into you or play with your clit. Anything to make it more tortuous.
Nothing was really happening aside from his teasing and occasionally asking you to hand him a different datapad from his desk. You were startled when knocking was heard on his door. Your head shot up in alarm.
"Wolffe?"
He didn't move.
"Wolffe what if they walk in?" You tried to get up but his strong arms held you down, keeping you tight to him.
"Then they'll have proof that you are the sluttiest officer on this ship," he growled in your ear, "and you're all mine." He called for whoever was on the other side of the door to come in. The door slid open and you looked away in embarrassment.
“Boost, do you have the data drive I asked for?”
You hesitantly looked up to see Boost standing across the room fiddling with the drive in his hand, his face had gone as red as his hair and his eyes tried to look anywhere except for you.
“I’m going to need that drive, Boost,” Wolffe said, motioning him closer.
“Can I toss it to you?” The flushed trooper asked.
“As you can see I can’t exactly get up right now so I’m going to need you to bring it here,” Wolffe responded.
Boost sighed and kept his eyes on the floor as he walked up to the desk and set the drive down.
“I’m going to need you to do one more thing,” Wolffe said, “Look up.”
Boost didn’t dare, he only shifted in place refusing to look at you or tear his eyes away from his feet. It hadn’t been his fault you spanked him, he didn't have any idea what you had been planning. “Respectfully sir, no thank you.”
“That’s an order, trooper,” Wolffe’s voice was stern. “I saw the look you gave her earlier. I know you want to look and I’m giving you permission. Go ahead.”
Boost slowly lifted his head and took in your mostly nude form, his eyes meeting yours before traveling downwards over your barely covered breasts, and stopping at the apex of your thighs where he could see your glistening pussy, plugged with his Commander’s cock. He released a breath he hadn’t known he was holding in and couldn’t tear his eyes away.
Wolffe felt you clench around him, you were enjoying this, being on display and being eyed up like you were about to be devoured. “Say, kitten, if you and Boost are alright with it why don’t you suck his cock and if you do a good job I’ll take an hour off your punishment,” he suggested. Boost’s eyes widened and you whimpered.
“I’d like to if he’ll let me, please Commander,” you asked. Not only had the panty-dropping smirk Boost had given you before fueled your decision, but you needed some kind of stimulation and Wolffe would take away an hour. It was a win win.
Boost swallowed the lump in his throat and walked around to the other side of the desk. He removed his codpiece revealing the hard bulge in his blacks. His behavior changed from bashful to confident once he heard her gasp at the outline through his pants.
“You like what you see, princess?” Boost slowly pulled his blacks down as far as they could go with the rest of his armor still on. He wasn't as big as Wolffe but he was still well endowed.
You reached forward and lightly ran your fingertips up and down his shaft. "No teasing or I'll ask the Commander to keep that hour on your punishment," Boost threatened.
You sucked his tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around and soaking up his precum. You broke away to spit into your hand and begin stroking his length. He hummed contently and ran his fingers through your hair.
You kitten licked his tip once more before engulfing his member in your mouth till he hit the back of your throat. Boost groaned and tugged on your hair as you started bobbing on his cock. You used your hand to pump what wasn't in your mouth.
Wolffe thought you deserved a reward for sucking Boost off. He reached down and put slight pressure on your clit, slowly rubbing circles on the concentrated batch of nerves. He could feel your body release more slick as he rubbed his fingers up and down your slit. You moaned at the sensation, sending the vibrations along Boost's cock. He growled and pulled you further onto him.
"C'mon Kitten, swallow his cock, I know you can," Wolffe encouraged.
You pulled off so just his tip was in your mouth before taking his dick down your throat so your nose bumped the skin of his abdomen. You breathed steadily through your nose and swallowed around his length.
Boost pressed himself impossibly closer, your forehead bumping his belt. You pulled off and jerked him with your hand a few times before taking him back into your mouth. You could feel your own high coming on from Wolffe's incessant toying. Boost's hips bucked and he slid further into your mouth.
"Mmm, c-can I cum down her throat, Commander?" Boost asked, his voice strained from being on the edge of climax.
You heard Wolffe hum in approval from behind you. Boost thrust himself into your mouth a few times before releasing his load into your mouth. You swallowed everything he had and licked him clean, leaning back against Wolffe’s chest while licking your lips.
“Thank you, Boost. You may go now,” Wolffe bid.
Boost covered himself back in his armor and made his way out of the office. You evened out your breathing, coming down from the near high that Wolffe built you up to.
“How much time do I have left?” You asked.
“About fifty minutes I believe,” Wolffe replied, he grabbed the drive off his desk and plugged it into his datapad. You made yourself comfortable and settled back, just having to wait.
~~~~
You hadn’t realized you fell asleep until you were woken up by someone palming your breasts. You stirred, shifting around only to be reminded you were still stuffed full.
“Your time is up, kitten.”
Swift taps to your clit jolted you fully awake. Wolffe placed gentle kisses to your neck. “Would you like to cum now?”
You nodded weakly and mumbled out a yes. Wolffe easily lifted you up and off of him, causing you to whine as he slipped out of you. He laid you on your back on his desk, parting your legs to stand in between them, his still hard length resting against your stomach.
“You’ve been good, Kitten, so you get to decide. How do you want me?” Wolffe asked, sincerity in his voice.
“Hard and fast, Wolffe, please,” you begged. Your Commander smiled, “That’s my girl.”
He slowly sunk two fingers into you while his thumb played with your clit, you whined at his teasing. “I need to make sure you’re wet enough,” Wolffe addressed, “I don’t want to hurt my kitten.”
He pulled away once he was satisfied with the amount of slickness at the apex of your thighs. He coated his dick in the juices from his fingers, he lined up and pressed just his tip inside. Moans and desperate whimpers fell from your lips.
"What do you say, Kitten?"
"Can I have your cock, Commander? Please, please, please I want it so bad!" You rambled.
"There's a good girl," Wolffe praised. He rewarded you by sliding all the way in, his tip nudging your cervix. He released a guttural groan and you wrapped your legs around his waist.
"I'm glad you got what you wanted."
Both your and Wolffe's heads snapped towards the door where Sinker stood, arms crossed, an amused look on his face.
"Sinker, what the hell are you doing in here!" Wolffe snapped.
"I take it this is why Boost has had a pep in his step ever since he left your office," Sinker mused, "I just came to give you this datapad. You're lucky I convinced the General to send me instead of delivering it himself."
Your face heated up and you looked away. Your time was up, Wolffe was going to let you cum, why did Sinker have to interrupt now? You were already planning some way to sabotage him as payback when he spoke again. "I see your plan worked, you're welcome," Sinker was now standing against the right wall, messing with his vambrace.
"What plan?" Wolffe asked.
"The one she told me to just play along with in order to rile you up so you would fuck her senseless," he answered nonchalantly.
"Oh, she failed to mention that plan to me," Wolffe voiced, looking down at you. You had covered your face with your hands to hide the embarrassment at being found out.
“However,” Wolffe continued, “I did know what she was up to: and you, Sinker, did not have to be a part of it. You should have known better.”
You could practically feel Sinker smirking through his next words. "Do I get a blowjob too?"
You didn't expect Wolffe's reply. "No, Sinker," Wolffe slowly pulled out of you halfway, "You get to watch while I fuck her senseless."
At that, Wolffe slammed back into you making you cry out his name. He set a brutal pace, one hand on your shoulder the other holding one of your legs up. The delicious scrape of his cock against your walls made you moan loudly, your eyes fluttering closed, your brain almost unable to comprehend how good you felt.
"Nuh uh, baby," Wolffe drawled, moving his hand from your shoulder to your jaw, tilting your head back. "Look at him, kitten. Show Sinker how good I'm making you feel."
You slowly let your eyes open to see Sinker biting his lip hard and trying to keep his hands off himself. Wolffe hit that hidden pleasure point within you and you screamed.
"That's it, scream for me, kitten."
You looked to see Sinker had slid down the wall and removed his codpiece, he was staring at you while furiously palming himself.
You clenched hard around Wolffe and he growled, picking up his pace if that was even possible. You felt your high rapidly approaching.
"Are you getting close, Kitten?" Wolffe asked.
You were at a loss for words, they were all being fucked out of you. All you could do was moan and shout Wolffe's name. He knew you were seconds from falling over the edge based on how your whole body started shaking.
You glanced at Sinker long enough to see he now had his cock in hand, jerking off to the sounds you were making. Wolffe pulled your face back to look at him.
"I wanna see you come, kitten. C'mon, cum for your Commander," he urged.
With a few more thrusts you were pushed over the edge, the pleasure surging throughout you, your mouth hanging open in a silent scream that your lungs just couldn't produce. Wolffe came seconds after, grunting and growling as he shot his seed within the confines of your warm constricting walls.
He gently laid himself on top of you, your foreheads resting together as you came down from bliss. You cupped his cheek lovingly and Wolffe nuzzled into your touch, finally pressing a long awaited kiss to your lips. He slowly pulled out and did his best to clean up the mess he made of you.
A near silent curse reminded you both that Sinker was still in the room. You looked over to find that he had cum into his hand. You sat up on the desk and whispered a question into Wolffe's ear.
"Sure, kitten, you were good. I'll tell him," he answered. You beamed and pulled your panties back on.
"Sinker come here," Wolffe requested, "my girl wants to clean you up."
He flinched before standing up and walking wobbly over to the desk. You spun around in your sitting position to face Sinker, taking his fingers and licking them clean of his essence.
Wolffe sat back in his chair after making himself presentable again. He watched proudly as his woman helped his brother. He couldn't help reaching over and running his hand over her waist.
Sinker watched with wide eyes as she cleaned up his fingers, staring in awe. He tucked himself away once she was done and looked between the two of you.
"Commander, if you don't mind my asking, where did you find her? I want one."
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idontblushsrry · 3 years
Text
Itadori Yuuji Boyfriend Headcanons
A/N: Reader is from America and a black female. Idk why i decided to write this but I think that Yuuji would be a fun boyfriend lmao. I don’t entirely know what the reader’s cursed technique should be so lmk if you have any ideas. Until then enjoy Yuuji and reader being 2 idiots in love. Spoilers for all the eps of jujutsu kaisen up to about episode 11, nothing past that though as I want to finish the show first before reading the manga, so please be respectful of spoilers and label them (and tag if necessary) in the comments. Also srry if this cuts off abruptly bcus of the point the show is at. This is also like, all over the place but whatever.
(also sorry this was posted later than usual oops)
Word Count:  1943
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This dork-
He is so sweet and kind and considerate 
But also a dumbass but also like he’s your dumbass
You and Yuuji are both equally stupid like bless yalls hearts
You and Yuuji met during his time at the Tokyo Academy when you transferred from America
The moment this man saw you walk up with Gojo-sensei he was smitten
Like your skin was glowing??? how???
And you had a slight accent but like he loved it too
And when you came up to greet him and shake hands you smelled so good and your skin was so soft
((He would later come to find out that the root of that was the shea cocoa butter lotion you used))
But yea mans was smitten and he is fully in love with you lmao
Will do literally anything you ask
You hungry? He’s prepared a 5 course, michelin star meal
Want new clothes? He’s been training for the day he could hold your bags for you
Ran out of hair products?? He’s already back with a special box of your products that he had imported from America
To this day you don’t know how he was able to get those products so quickly
He is loves when you tell him things about you from your day, to your times in america, to how your cursed energy works
Yall are the couple that does stupid shit together
Like one time you showed Yuuji one of those life hack videos and he was like 
“We should totally do that” 
And you were like “Bet”
Needless to say Fushiguro was very confused at the sight of bandaids on both of your fingers the next morning
“???What happened?”
“Well you see, I told Yuuji that I should use the glue gun because he didn’t even know where to put the glue stick. And he said nah, I got it and um yea so I fell and the glue gun was plugged in and then he tripped over me and so now we look like this.”
Gojo and Kugisaki thought that this was hilarious while Fushiguro decided that he’d store your guys’ glue gun in his shadows from now on
How yall manage to get through missions you go on together alive is a miracle
Speaking of missions, you eventually ask Yuuji what’s his deal because you feel a powerful aura coming from him but he never uses cursed energy, always cursed weapons
Cue Sukuna’s mouth popping up on the side of his face like “Hey mamas”
(You can’t tell me that Sukuna isn’t the type of guy to ask where his hug at)
“YUUJI WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!”
“Oh, I guess you haven’t met Sukuna yet, huh?”
So he sits you down and explains how he ate Sukuna’s finger and you're sitting there like ‘mhm mhm mhm, sorry you what?’
For like 3 days after he told you that you couldn’t bring yourself to kiss him just because you were processing the fact that Yuuji ate someone’s nasty old ass finger and would have to eat 19 more
And the fact that he’s the vessel of like the worst curse known to man 
During those 3 days, Yuuji’s pouting because he’s like ‘I fucked up, now she doesn’t wanna kiss me let alone talk to me because of this monster inside of me :(’
Meanwhile you’re just like ‘why would anyone eat some random mummified finger?’
Eventually you get wind of Yuuji’s bad mood and immediately, you rush to smooth things over with him.
You knock on his door and hear blankets rustling before he goes, “I’m not in the mood to play fight right now Kugisaki’
“Can I come in baby?”
You immediately hear the most comical almost cartoonish amount of noise ranging from a cup falling over, sheets falling off the bed, and what sounds like Yuuji falling flat on his ass before he opens the door
When he does, you’re laughing and it’s like the sky is no longer grey and the world is filled with color
You smile at each other before your moment is interrupted with Sukuna going “Finally, full offense, his whining was getting annoying”
You step inside his room and apologize for ignoring him, explaining that you just needed time to process things, explaining that you should’ve told him that before dipping
He just grabbed you in a bear hug and lifted you of the ground and spinning you around laughing happily, after all he wasn’t even upset with you, he just missed you
And thus begins the honeymoon phase of your guys’ relationship
Fushiguro is actually really happy for you guys and is the most supportive of your relationship but if anyone asked him to admit that out loud he’d actually apparate to the nearest marooned ship
Nobura doesn’t hate you guys but she thinks all couples are disgusting, so while it’s nothing personal, she does gag when you and Yuuji do so much as make goo goo eyes at each other
Gojo is actually like the main cheerleader of your relationship. 
He is the teacher that changes the seating chart to put students he ships together
He was always pairing you and Yuuji up on missions and placing you as sparring partners like ur not slick
If Gojo is the cheerleader, Sukuna is an actual antagonist
Like the man goes out of his way to CHOOSE violence
Like on time you kissed Yuuji’s cheek on a date and when you pulled back, your lip was bleeding and Sukuna’s mouth was smirking at you
Another thing he likes to do is tell you all of Yuuji’s simp^tm thoughts
Like all of them
Now Yuuji isn’t ashamed of how much he loves you and is in fact very open with it, but he doesn’t need Sukuna telling you that the only reason he bought x mouthwash was because it made your breath smell like “sunshine” and he had to see if it would work on him
Speaking of dates, good luck
Now I stand by the fact that Yuuji would never half-ass a date and things with him are certainly never boring
But he’s also like a country boy in the city and his tourist tendencies tend to get the best of him
Like you’ll be trying to find a spot to eat and when you look back Yuuji’s gone
((Prolly to buy another I <3 Tokyo shirt so you can both match))
He always catches up with you ad you eventually learn that but like the first few times be havin you ready to put up a lost child signal on the loudspeaker
He’s very sweet and this is where his thoughtfulness shines through
You and Yuuji plan dates in the same way one plays bingo
Like because you never know where you’re going to be r when exactly you’ll both be free (especially with Gojo-sensei and his bare minimum ass information) you two tend to go ‘ok well if we’re here we’ll go here and if we’re here, we’ll go here’ and so on and so forth
But Yuuji always remembers such little one-off details about you that make your dates.
Like you mention wanting to try a sushi train and he’s already scrolled through multiple yelp reviews and watched every youtube restaurant review like 9 times
But every high has a low and Yuuji and your’s low comes suddenly and it brings you crashing to the ground with no warning and nothing to slow your descent
When your class of first years were sent to exorcise the special grade cursed womb
When Yuuji’s hand got blown off and he told you to run you froze, your mind racing faster than your legs could even start
“(Y/N) RUN!” Yuuji’s voice broke you out of your fear-based trance
“I- I...can’t...I can’t leave you!” you cried out all your rational senses screamed at you to go, run, he had Sukuna and you were barely a grade 2 sorcerer. But your intuition told you if you left him you wouldn’t see him alive again.
You were trapped in a paralysis of indecision but the choice was made for you when a sticky tongue wrapped around your midriff and you were gulped into the mouth of one of Fushiguro’s frogs
“Goddamn it Fushiguro! Let me go! I need to... save... him.” You were outside the building before you could even finish arguing.
You glared up at Fushiguro but your eyes softened some when you saw how beat up Kugisaki looked.
He gave you this look that said he did what he had to do and he didn’t care what you had to say about it 
You and him waited in the rain for Yuuji or Sukuna to exit the building
You tried to focus yourself and save your negative emotions for your cursed attack
When Sukuna inevitably appeared, one finger stronger, you were fully prepared to fight him
However, he didn’t seem interested in fighting you and more engaged in fighting with Megumi
You tried to urge Fushiguro to wait it out, eventually Sukuna would lose control, but when Sukuna took Yuuji’s heart hostage, you both knew you’d have to fight
You and Fushiguro gave it your all but when Yuuji came back he still died 
It took all your strength to not completely fall apart after his death and the support from the second years as well as Kugisaki and Fushiguro helped
You’d tried to visit him at the morgue but Shoko only told you that she didn’t think it’d be a good idea.
You still slept in his sweaters and the things that smelled like him from time to time, trying to make the idea of him last, but after a month, the smell of him had started to fade
Everything about Yuuji’s memory seemed to become leached away with time, from his smell, to the wear present on things he’d given to you
You couldn’t help but feel resentful towards yourself but also to Sukuna, he’d taken Yuuji from you with the same care that one would throw litter on the ground
The pain in your chest didn’t wane either, it only became ignorable to a degree as training for the exchange with the Kyoto students became more intense
Fushiguro is a comfort to you as well, aside from you, him and Yuuji were the closest to each other and so he gets a lot of what you’re going through and doesn’t push when you become more withdrawn
He also lets you pet his demon dog too but when you ask him why he’s letting you pet it he just says ‘because no one would believe you if you told them’ lies
The bastard really just does it because he knows you’re sad and he doesn’t want you to be sad
Speaking of the Kyoto students, Zenin Mai and Toudou Aoi are permanently on your shit list
You’re relieved that Panda, Maki, and Inumaki came to your guys’ aid but like if you had your way Mai wouldn’t even exist
Anyways Maki has Panda physically restrain you while she tries to calm you down 
“(Y/N), you can kick her ass at the exchange!”
When you calm down, Panda puts you down and even though Mai’s long gone with Todou to go get his handshake, you make a promise that carries through the wind
‘Zenin Mai, pray that the next time you run across me I’m feeling kind, because if not-’, the last word is lost as the wind picks up but Mai feels a shiver rack through her body that more than ensures your message.
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fandomficsnstuff · 3 years
Text
Little Dragon - Part 8
Summary: You were a child slave of Meereen, when one day a silver haired woman sets you free. Though your master isn’t too keen on letting you go, and Daenerys took personal action to see you freed and taken care of.
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High Valyrian is in cursive
You were listening intently to the conversations going on in the war room, so many faces that you wanted to remember, their names, their houses, their history, but for now you settled on staying silent and listening, “are you really sure we can discuss this around her?” your head snapped towards the accented voice, seeing a beautiful woman with olive skin, black hair and dark brown eyes, and you wanted to look to your mother for help, but decided that you couldn’t use her as a pillar forever “(Y/N) Targaryen, Lady…?” you couldn’t help your tone, you were not a little girl wearing a collar around her neck anymore, jumping at the slightest of sounds. You were still timid and childish with Daenerys and Missandei, because you knew you could afford it, but you didn’t know these people, they were allies of your mother, but you didn’t know them.
“Ellaria” she sounded tense as she responded, she probably hadn't known you were the daughter of Daenerys, but you merely nodded “well, Lady Ellaria, I would prefer that if you are done questioning who your Queen trusts, perhaps we could get back to planning the war we are currently in” you heard a short laugh, your eyes glancing to none other than Olenna Tyrell, the Queen of Thorns, and the only living Tyrell left. “Are you sure you did not birthe her? She has the spirit of a dragon that one” Daenerys did everything to not smirk proudly at Olenna’s comment, and even Ellaria looked a bit surprised at your response “now… I agree that a foreign army would send the wrong signal, but an army from Westeros, it would show that we are not here to raid and pillage, the Dothraki will not do so unless their Khaleesi orders and my mother never will, the Unsullied are obedient and loyal, so they won’t either, but we need Westeros with us, and showing that their own houses are turning on Cercei is a good way to win quickly and without a lot of losses, on either side”, you studied the map as you spoke, unaware of the impressed looks everyone gave you, Tyrion being the first to speak up “well… I agree” you glanced at him and sent him a quick smile, one of the few smiles you had offered him, but you didn’t really know him either, so it was justified that you didn’t treat him, or Varys, as warmly as the rest of your mother’s allies.
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You stood impatiently besides Daenerys in the throne room, and Daenerys couldn’t help the amused glance she shared with Missandei “alright go, but change before you do!” you barely even heard the rest of her sentence, you were already off, heading towards your room. In record breaking time you changed from your formal dress to a special outfit you had made for you. You had been riding Rhaegal much more frequently, and today were the day of the arrival of Jon Snow, King in the North, and you had promised to stay for his arrival and then ride Rhaegal after, but you couldn’t help fidgeting, and were more than happy that Daenerys excused you. You put on your leather trousers, securing them with a harness that was connected to them, ensuring that they didn’t fall down, not even an inch, you had a tunic under your harness, pulling a shortened cloak over your shoulders and tying it to the harness, making sure the knots were tight, the cloak was warm but light, it reached just below your hips, but kept you warm. Next you threw on a pair of gloves made from cloth on the inside and leather on the outside, and then your boots, they were high, they almost reached your knees, and you pulled the laces tight, so they wouldn’t fall off during the flight.
Your room had an open balcony, just like Daenerys’, and you approached the edge, grinning widely as you waited. You couldn’t help the excited giggle you let out as you heard him roar as he came closer, and in a leap of faith you jumped off of the balcony, you let out a little huff as you landed on scales, and a few moments later you got a good grip, holding onto Rhaegal as you flew away from the castle, going high up and then soaring, admiring the landscape below, seeing a ship you presumed belonged to Jon Snow, you flew towards Drogon and Viseryon who were flying on the other side of the island. You could still just about watch Tyrion greet Jon Snow, and saw them making their way towards the entrance.
A wicked smile grazed your lips as you got an idea, and somehow Drogon, Viserion and Rhaegal knew what your plan was, Rhaegal let out an ear shattering roar as you held on tightly, flying towards Tyrion and the two men he were leading up the long stone staircase. You leaned forward as you flew closer to the ground, Rhaegal barely managing to not hit the small people below, something that made you laugh loudly and you couldn’t help but cheer, Tyrion seeing you on Rhaegal as you waved at him, and you could see him shake his head, but you also knew of the smile he tried to hide, he was probably telling Jon that he himself wasn’t used to the presence of the dragons.
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You heaved heavily as you ran into the throne room, your hair wild from the wind, your chest rising dramatically as you tried to catch your breath, standing besides Daenerys who did her very best to not smirk at you proudly, instead she tried to look as regal as ever, waiting patiently for this, Jon Snow, to arrive.
Rhaegal had barely managed to throw you off on the open balcony you jumped out of earlier, you almost bumped into a few tables on your way to the throne room, a fact that made you smile amused before trying to hide it. “Well, at least you made it back in time” her words could be mistaken as scolding, but you knew her better, and you couldn’t help the breathless giggle you let out “think I scared an inch or so off of Lord Tyrion” Daenerys let out a short, although quiet, laugh at your comment, shooting you a very poor attempt of a scolding gaze before looking back towards the large doors at the end of the throne room, making you straighten your back, your smile faltering and your hands placed in front of yourself, as you always did when you had attended any court meeting.
You watched the two strangers as Missandei went down the list of titles that your Queen had acquired along the way, something you took great pride in, she was your mother after all.
“And this is (Y/N) Targaryen, daughter of Queen Daenerys Stormborn, princess of the Seven Kingdoms and heir to the throne” Missandei finally ended, and the two men looked at you confused, giving you the impression that they didn’t know that much about your mother, and therefore you, they had probably only heard rumours, lies or other falsehoods, and therefore didn’t know of your existence, which was probably not a bad thing. You had heard of how the usurper King Robert Baratheon had sent assassins to kill Daenerys, even while she was pregnant, so who says they wouldn’t have been sent after you, back then nothing more than a little girl, had the usurper's children heard of your existence, and Daenerys’ love for you. You were snapped out of your day dream as Daenerys got up, approaching Jon Snow and his adviser, and first now you tuned in on their conversation, a small frown resting on your brows, hearing her words, but you couldn’t deny the pride it gave you, despite hearing all that she had suffered, “I was born at Dragonstone. Not that I can remember it. We fled before Robert's assassins could find us. Robert was your father's best friend, no? I wonder if your father knew his best friend sent assassins to murder a baby girl in her crib. Not that it matters now, of course. I spent my life in foreign lands. So many men have tried to kill me, I don't remember all their names. I have been sold like a broodmare. I've been chained and betrayed, raped and defiled. Do you know what kept me standing, through all those years in exile? Faith. Not in any god, not in myths and legends. In myself. In Daenerys Targaryen. The world hadn't seen a dragon in centuries, until my children were born. The Dothraki hadn't crossed the sea, any sea. They did for me. I was born to rule the Seven Kingdoms, and I will, and so will my daughter.” Her gaze turned to you for a brief moment and you smiled proudly, one she proudly returned before turning back to Jon Snow.
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You frowned as you watched your mother study the map in silence, you wanted to say something, you really did, but what could you say? The Iron Fleet was gone, Yara and Ellaria had been taken prisoner and Jon Snow refused to bend the knee and instead only wants to hack away at some mysterious stone somewhere in a cave on the island, claiming that an army of undead people and giants are the true enemy.
You couldn’t help the sigh that escaped your lips, you being the only one to actually make a sound in the entire map room “maybe…” you dared a glance at your mother, not that you feared her, but more that you knew of the thin ice you were balancing on “maybe you should just let him mine this… ‘dragonglass’... it means nothing to you after all” Daenerys looked to you slowly, and for a second everyone in the room were praying to whoever and whatever that you hadn’t crossed a line, but when you received no response, you continued, “you didn’t know it was there, no one did… there are two options here, either he’s right, in which it doesn’t hurt you or your army or your dragons to comply, or he’s mad, and it won’t hurt you, your army or your dragons either. There’s no outcome here where anything bad is an outcome, you complying will also show that yes, you are to be feared, but you are also complying and reasonable, and allowing one man, one person to mine something of no value is a sign that you are with the people of Westeros” there was another second of silence, but eventually Daenerys smiled at you, walked over to you and placed a gentle hand on your cheek, looking at you with a proud look in her eyes before walking off.
“Where is she going?” Tyrion looked at you baffled and confused, but you simply shrugged “to allow Jon Snow to mine the Dragonglass” you leaned over the map table, studying the different areas, looking at the different highlighted places, such as King’s Landing, Winterfell, all the places you’ve only ever read about, you couldn't wait to see them for real.
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lillywillow · 3 years
Text
Cold Heart of the Wild
Summary: For days Bucky has been having dreams about a white wolf and a mysterious woman. What happens when his dreams become reality?
 Word Count: 2234
 Square Filled: White Wolf
 Pairings: Bucky x Female Reader
 Warnings: Mentions of hunting and shooting, injuries, minor mentions of death
Written for @star-spangled-bingo
 Snow covered the ground in every direction Bucky looked. It crunched under his feet as he moved; where he was going, he didn’t know. Suddenly, a howl filled the air, its mournful sound sending chills down his spine. There was a flash of movement in the bare trees. Bucky followed it, catching a glimpse of a white wolf.
 The wolf stopped for him as if expecting something. Did it want him to follow? Bucky looked at it for a moment before it ran off.
 “Wait!”
 Bucky chased after the wolf, running in between frozen vegetation, trying desperately to keep up with it. He lost sight of the wolf. Feeling lost in this icy landscape, he frantically searched for any more signs of life. That’s when he saw her.
 A woman dressed in animal hide clothing. A hunter perhaps?
 “Hey!” Bucky shouted, reaching out to her.
 The woman began turning...
...
Bucky woke in a cold sweat. He had almost forgotten all about the mission he was going on that morning. As he prepared for it, he reflected on his dream. That was the sixth night in a row he’d been having dreams like that. Could that possibly mean something? There was no time to dwell too much further on the subject. Bucky had to board the jet and get ready to go.
...
 Bucky’s plane was shot down somewhere over the Alaskan wilderness. He survived the initial crash relatively unharmed but there were Hydra agents waiting on the ground. He fought and took them out but his side was badly injured. As he collapsed in the snow, he thought for sure this was where he was going to die.
 Bucky drifted in and out of consciousness but caught flashes of images.
 The sound of gunfire.
 A white wolf hovering over him.
 Being dragged on some kind of sled.
 A woman with a rifle strapped to her back.
 Bucky’s eyes opened in a jolt. The images had been so familiar to him; he expected to see the sterile environment of a Hydra lab. To his surprise, he found himself in a quaint wood cabin. There were animal hides on the bed keeping him warm.  A fireplace along a wall had a cauldron of something delicious smelling food hanging in its stony walls. A kitchen nook was off to the side of the cabin. The place was rather cosy. Bucky sat up causing pain to shoot through him. He carefully lifted his shirt to see someone had tended to his wound although now blood was seeping through the bandaging. Holding onto his side, Bucky forced himself to his feet and looked out the small window.
 Outside, he could see a woman standing in front of two crudely made graves. She was dressed exactly the same as the one that had been haunting his dreams. A sound behind him caught his attention. Slowly turning around, he saw a white wolf. He went to comment but the pain in his side became too much and he fell to his knees. The wolf went out what appeared some kind of doggy door carved through the main one. A few minutes later, the woman came in, quickly shutting the door behind her. She helped Bucky off the floor and back onto the bed. He whimpered and held up his hand which was now bloodied. She made a disapproving sound with a click on her tongue.
 “You’ve opened that wound again,” she stated. She carefully lifted his shirt once more, helping him to sit up as she cleaned and redressed the injury.
 Once she had finished and washed her hands, she went to get two bowls, filling them with whatever was in the cauldron. She came back, handing him one with a spoon.
 “Thanks,” he muttered. She nodded and sat down to eat as well. A silence fell over the pair of them.
 As Bucky ate, so many questions filled his mind. Who was this woman? Why did she save him? Why had he been dreaming about her? What did any of this have to do with the wolf? He was still very cautious.
 “Who are you? Where am I? How did I get here? The last thing I remember is... is... we need to get out of here!” Bucky stood up but immediately fell back down in pain.
 The woman sighed and made sure his wound hadn’t once again reopened.
 “You’re safe here. Those Hydra agents won’t be around to bother us. I made sure of it...”
 Bucky froze, fear and dread suddenly sunk in.
 “H-how do you...” The woman sighed softly.
 “I was an agent of S.H.E.I.L.D. much like you. I was sent on a mission and my plane went down...”
 It dawned on Bucky why she was so familiar and it had nothing to do with his dreams.
 “You’re Y/N L/N! You were one of the best! I read your file. You went missing ten years ago. Presumed dead...”
 “And I would have been if it hadn’t been for Agnes...”
 “Who’s Agnes?”
 Y/N walked over to the window, her eyes ghosting over with memories.
 “Agnes was... one of the strongest women I have ever known. She lived here with her husband until he died. Lived here on her own for quite some time.”
 “What happened to her?”
 “Two years ago, there was a big grizzly bear... it crept up on Agnes and attacked... I did the best I could to help her and she hung in there for as long as she could... I’ve been here on my own ever since.”
 The wolf let out a huff.
 “Except for James of course,” she smiled. The wolf gave an approving noise.
 “James?” Bucky was more than a little surprised.
 “Agnes told she found him abandoned as a pup. She raised him to be I guess a sort of pet. I promised her I wouldn’t let anything happen to him until his time comes.”
 “What do you mean?”
 Y/N once again sighed and tossed James a piece of meat.
 “James is getting pretty old in wolf years. Now, if he should die of natural causes I can bury him with some honour but I’ll be damned if I let some hunter take him away from me.”
 Bucky went quiet for a few moments.
 “How come... you never went back? You could have left at any time...”
 Y/N scoffed softly.
 “When I went down in that plane, it was winter, just as it is now. Every day I wondered if I was ever getting out of here and with each passing month, that hope left. Maybe they sent a search party and couldn’t find me, maybe they couldn’t be bothered, maybe the stories got to them and scared them away...”
 “Stories?” Bucky asked.
 “You see, Alaska has a sort of... Bermuda Triangle area. Planes, ships and people go missing, strange lights in the sky, strange creatures spotted... I never believed the stories but... Perhaps I’ve been without human interaction for too long,” she shrugged. “Anyway, you should get some rest. I’m going to go and hunt something for dinner. If you need anything before I go, tell me now.”
 Bucky shook his head and Y/N made him comfortable before she left with James following behind her. He had been given so much information in such a short amount of time yet he still had questions but for now he would just take some time to allow his body to heal itself.
...
 When night fell, Y/N had boarded up any areas that cold might creep in. She made another stew out of the game she hunted in the afternoon and made herself comfortable next to Bucky.
 “Wh-what are you doing?” His face flushed at their close proximity.
 “It’s below freezing outside. If you want to survive, you’ll need my body heat.”
 Bucky nodded and slowly allowed himself to relax before realising something.
 “Wait! James isn’t here! Shouldn’t he be inside with us?”
 Y/N couldn’t help but smile at his thoughtfulness toward the animal.
 “James will be fine. Wolves have adapted to centuries of this kind of weather. He has his own little spot to sleep in nearby and he can do whatever he wants to do.”
 Bucky was a little relieved to hear that.
 “Tell me more about your life here,” he prompted.
 “What’s there to know? It’s life in the Alaskan wilderness. I hunt, I stock up on supplies, and I sleep at night...”
 “Well then tell me about Agnes. I’m sure you must some stories about her...”
 Y/N regarded him carefully for a moment.
 “Alright... but only if you tell me about you in return. You read my file back at... wherever you came from, so you have me at a disadvantage. I don’t even know your name.”
 “James Buchannan Barnes but everyone calls me Bucky.”
 Y/N let out a soft laugh, unable to believe the coincidence.
 “James and James... I guess I will have to call you Bucky to avoid confusion,” she smiled.
 The pair of them spent the night swapping stories and getting to know each other better until they eventually fell asleep. That night for the first time in a long time, Bucky had a dreamless sleep.
...
 Time went by and eventually a month had passed. Bucky and Y/N had formed a strong bond with each other in what was beginning to feel like love. Y/N wondered if this is how Agnes had felt with her husband.
 Then one day, it happened. Y/N was in her storage shed when she heard James snarling and barking. She ran out to see a helicopter appear a moment later, landing in a small clearing nearby. Bucky hobbled out of the house at the commotion. Although his injury was healing nicely, he still had some more to do.
 A few men exited the chopper and headed over to the two of you. You called James to your side to keep him from attacking the strangers but he was still on edge.
 “Buck... good to see you,” one of the men wearing a uniform went to Bucky and hugged him. Bucky hugged back.
 “Good to see you too, Steve. How’d you find me?”
 “We tracked where your jet went down. I’ve been searching for as long as I could ever since. Finally caught a break today when we saw the smoke from the chimney,” Steve replied, nodding over to the house. “Who’s this?”
 “Steve, this is Y/N. She saved my life...”
 Steve looked at her for a moment.
 “The same Y/N who went missing a decade ago?”
 “The very same...”
 “Buck, can I talk to you for a minute?”
 The pair of them went out of Y/N’s earshot but whatever they were saying, it was argumentative. After a few moments the pair walked back to her.
 “Y/N, how would you like to come back with us?” Steve reluctantly offered.
 “I... I can’t...”
 Bucky looked at her sadly.
 “I have James to think of.”
 “James is... a wolf?” Steve asked.
 “He’s not just a wolf. James is too used to humans. He’s vulnerable and a prize for hunters around here. I can’t just leave him.”
 “I see...”
 “Steve, can we have a moment alone?” Steve nodded and left the two them to have a little privacy.
 “You could stay...” Y/N said softly.
 “I wish I could but I can’t. That punk needs me... like James needs you.” His eyes filled with tears as did hers.
 “I... I really hope I’ll see you again.”
 “I do too, doll.”
 Bucky wrapped his arms around her and kissed her. Y/N kissed back, holding him as close as she could. Eventually air was needed and they pulled away. Bucky gave her a communicator to keep in touch, telling her to call him if anything happened. Only after the helicopter disappeared out of sight did Y/N allow herself to cry.
...
 Six months later, Bucky finally heard back from her.
 “Hello? Bucky?”
 “Y/N! Is it really you?”
 “Y-yeah...”
 “Is everything okay? You sound upset...”
 “Um... James... passed away...”
 “Oh, Y/N. I’m so sorry...”
 “I... I had been expecting it for a while... he hasn’t been well for days. I found him this morning. Can you... can you come and take me away? I don’t... I don’t want to die alone out here...”
“Of course. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
...
 It took a lot of convincing but Bucky was allowed to go and collect Y/N. He had marked the coordinates of her cabin on a map and went there as fast as he could.
 The moment she saw him, Y/N threw herself into Bucky’s arms and sobbed. Bucky held her close and rubbed her back.
 “It’s okay, doll. I’m here now. I’ve got you. You’ve done your duty to Agnes and laid James to rest...”
 The pair stood there for a while until Y/N had calmed down enough before heading to the transport. As they flew over the Alaska wilderness, Y/N took one last look at the place for ten years she called home. She held Bucky’s hand, ready to start a new chapter of her life.
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Text
Golden Linings: Chapter 1
Cal Kestis x reader
Series Summary: You and several of your friends have been captured for unknown reasons. After being rescued by a rag-tag trio on the hunt for Force-sensitives, you all strike a deal to aid in their quest while searching for a way back home... though your own priorities threaten to shift as you grow ever-closer to the sweet redhead Jedi called Cal.
Chapter Content: Some fighting and creepers being creeps
AO3 Link (In case you like it better over there, it’s okay, no judgement)
A/N: I don't really know where this story will go but I've been wanting to write a multi-chapter fic again (don't worry, I'm still working on my Thrawn & Eli one too!) and I wanted to do something with our precious Jedi cinnamon roll, especially after writing this post, which may or may not be woven in later, we'll see. I'm striving for a gender-neutral reader but may update to fem! since this is very self-indulgent I'm so sorry, sometimes you gotta write for yourself ya know?
Chapter 1: Fight and Flight
You were scared.
Terrified.
There almost seemed to be a disconnect between your body and your mind. The one was on auto-pilot, unable to stay still, taking you through street after street as if it actually knew where it was going. The other was shutting down, incapable of processing anything around you in a clear or productive way. Your eyes scanned buildings and faces and signs, but not a single one registered to you.
You were lost.
Scared.
Alone.
It had been a normal day at the start, the kind of normal that wouldn't have planted itself in your memory had it remained a normal day. It would've been indistinguishable from all the other normal days you'd had just like it in your life, and you would've continued on to live even more of them without a single care about it. That's how it should have been.
But now, now that you had been unexpectedly ripped from that sense of normalcy, thrown into this strange place with no options or even an explanation as to how any of this could have been possible, you were forced to accept your life was not as it should be, and that you had to do something about it.
Your feet halted at the thought. You had to do something. All this walking and wandering wasn't doing something... if anything, it was only a distraction, a way to postpone the inevitable acceptance of the situation for what it truly was. A scary, terrifying situation you wanted nothing to do with but had absolutely no choice. A lonely and confusing situation that was going to challenge your strength in a way you wished you didn't have to face, but secretly suspected you needed to. That's why bad things happened to good people, right? To test just how good they really were?
You had stopped at a street corner, one of the quieter intersections in this new town. Instinctually, you'd been trying to get away from the overwhelming hustle and bustle you'd initially found yourself in. Though, now that you were finally letting yourself process your surroundings, you realized that instinct, while good in intention, had actually led you to a not-so-great part of town that was starting to make your skin crawl.
There was litter in the gutters and grease on the walls of the buildings around you. A burst pipe was spewing from somewhere close by, and though it was open daylight, the amount of shadows seemed to have grown. You gulped nervously, not sure if you'd be able to come up with a plan here, or if you'd fare better back to the crowded parts you'd came from.
A whistle came from behind and your spine tingled unpleasantly. You knew what it meant but whirled to face it anyway. A couple of hunkered, wrinkly creatures seemed to be sliding toward you, their humanoid eyes narrowed but openly scanning your body.
"Lost, pretty thing?" one of them almost seemed to hiss.
You responded the way you'd done earlier, when you'd woken up in that dungeon of a room and realized your day had changed from normal to scary... you ran.
Your feet pounded the ground beneath you, sending jolts of pressure painfully up through your tired body. You didn't dare look behind to see if you were being pursued. You didn't hear anything, no further taunts or laughter, but that didn't mean you were completely free. And now you were running deeper into the more desolate parts of this unknown city. If you stopped, you may just find even worse threats waiting. That's what your stressed mind reasoned, anyway.
On and on you ran, one foot in front of the other, until your chest felt on the brink of bursting. You didn't want to, but you let yourself slow back to a stop, and as soon as you did, your legs immediately gave out beneath you. Your knees slammed on the ground and you'd probably feel the sting in them for a while, but you didn't care. Not when you couldn't catch your breath and that nagging sense you were being watched from the shadows sat uncomfortably in your thoughts.
The buildings were taller here, towering so high they blocked out most of the sky and gave the impression it was much later in the evening than you knew it to be. But everything was boarded up. Not a soul was in sight. What even was this place? Was it truly abandoned, or only made to seem so?
You were right to be suspicious. Your paranoia bubbled within you like a sixth sense, turning your head in the proper direction before you were aware of what you were doing. Just on the other side of the street before you stood a tall, glowering man dressed all in blank, flanked by IG droids. The man you didn't recognize, but there had been IG droids guarding that room you'd escaped from. You knew they weren't a common model of droid, so what were the odds they weren't the same as the ones you'd slipped past earlier?
"There you are," the man growled, confirming your suspicion. But what surprised you next was the glowing red light that suddenly jutted out from an object in his hand. It hummed menacingly, threateningly. You knew there was a word for it but couldn't quite call it to mind at the moment. All you knew was it was a weapon, and if you could summon back your breath, you should definitely start running again.
A blaster shot fired out of nowhere and you saw the man raise his stick of light up to block himself from it. How had he known to do that? You didn't have time to fathom it, instead watching as a couple additional figures rushed out of the shadows and toward the man and his droids. One of them hung slightly back, a blaster raised and firing at the droids. The second went straight for the man, producing a beam of light of his own, and clashing enthusiastically against his opponent.
You took the opportunity to put some distance between yourself and whatever this fight was about. You crawled down the street, pushing your back up against a wall you deemed safe enough, though on what criteria you weren't really sure. At least it provided a sense of stability in this otherwise chaotic situation. You didn't know who any of these people were; who the man was and why he was after you, who your rescuers were and whether they were actually friendly or merely enemies of an enemy. Heck, you were still trying to figure out who had captured you earlier that day and why. This fight of lights and lasers was mesmerizing, but incredibly overwhelming.
"So eager to prove yourself," you caught the man growling out. His red light had paused in its assault against the blue one, in favor of taunting the boy who held it instead.
"Oh, this is just good practice," the boy said, matching the man's pacing with his own.
His comment earned a gravely laugh. "Your eagerness makes you sloppy, and your over-confidence makes you weak. This is what happens to students without masters."
It was odd, but though the boy was several feet away from you, half-obscured in shadow and definitely hard to discern through your labored breathing and confused state of mind, you could still somehow tell the man's words upset him. But maybe you were just projecting. You'd be pretty pissed if someone called you weak, too.
Whether the boy would've snapped and resumed the fight or not, you'd never know. What little sliver of sky still remained above was then blocked out by the mass of a ship. It lowered itself as far into the narrow street as it could and sent bursts of wind of hurtling down, your hair whipping about in protest. You braced a hand in front of your eyes, peering through your fingers to see a ramp had been lowered, waiting.
The other figure, who'd made short work of the IG droids, was running toward you now. The man with the red light was temporarily stunned by the sudden arrival of the ship but quickly recovered. He swung his light at the boy and their fight recommenced. Your observation of it was interrupted, though, by the arrival of the woman who'd now reached you.
"Come on, dear, we gotta get out of here!"
She grabbed hold of your shoulder, prepared to help you stand, but you immediately flinched and tried to crawl away. You didn't know her, you didn't know anybody out here. How could you possibly decide whether you should follow her or not?
"Please," she implored, not chasing after you, but holding out her hand and urging you to take it. "We don't have much time. We can get you to safety."
You glanced over at the boy who continued to hold his own against the man who'd been after you, despite having been labeled as sloppy and weak. Surely these people were good, right? At the least, the blue color of his weapon seemed kinder than the red of the other.
The woman was right, there wasn't much time. And you didn't have much choice. You shook yourself, as if trying to physically dispel your own doubt, and stood. You took hold of the woman's hand and let her lead you toward the ship's ramp.
"Cal!" she called back toward her friend as the two of you ran.
If the boy heard he didn't seem to mind, continuing his fight with a determination you still weren't sure how you could detect from such a distance.
The woman jumped effortlessly onto the ramp and turned to hold her hand back out to you. You jumped as you reached for it, but your frazzled nerves must have gotten the better of your strength, as you weren't quite able to hold on for long. You teetered dangerously on the ledge of the ramp where your feet had only barely connected but couldn't quite get enough traction. One part of your mind was bracing itself for the impact of your inevitable tumble backward; the other part had the gumption to ignore the fear and think only of how embarrassing this would be.
And then something warm and solid pressed into your back, and an arm was wrapping around your middle, practically sweeping you away from the edge and up the ramp. You only barely registered a streak of ginger hair next to you as you allowed yourself to be helped into the ship. The ramp closed behind, sealing out the harsh sounds beyond and all the dangers it represented. Your ears seemed to ring from the sudden cut off, but you could hardly shake yourself free of it while you fought to stay balanced as the ship maneuvered itself upward and onward. It was a fleeting fight; you immediately stumbled toward the floor and slid back against the ship wall.
You were safe now. At least that's what you told yourself as you surrendered to your slouched position on the floor of this strange ship, and finally let yourself breathe.
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ssatoritendou · 3 years
Text
Mountain part ii.
‹‹‹part i.
Megumi Fushiguro
Pairing: megumi /reader
Word count: 1.8k
+ summary: On a recovery mission of a cursed object you split into teams of two. You and Megumi get caught in the cross fire while looking for the object.
Genre: angst
Warning: slight cursing
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You watched as Megumi trekked through the dangerous mountains.
You pushed the button on the walkie-talkie, “How is it looking out there?”
“A little wet, rocky. How is it looking from your end.”
“It looks like a big stream of this blood-red cursed energy, with small branches veering off. Like veins on a leaf.”
“Which way is the stream going?” He asked looking at his dog, really looking at you.
“Keep going straight, up towards that hillside over there.”
“Of course a hillside.” He grumbled.
“Megumi you can take a break. The sun will be rising soon. I guarantee our counterparts are still sleeping like the dead.”
You thought you heard a chuckle on the walkie-talkie. “Let me know when you see something.”
“Over and out.” You said. “Your dad needs a sense of humor.” You commented as you patted the divine dog's head.
Megumi was going further and further up the mountainside. You noticed a slab of a stone 3 yards in front of him.
“Hey, Megumi can you walk towards that slab of stone to your right?”
“Copy.”
He and his partner walked over to the slab. There were strange symbols of a language on it.
“What do you think it means?” He asked.
“Not sure, looks familiar though. Can you dust off whatever is on it?”
You watched as his hand over the moss and dirt off the lettering.
“Any clue now?”
“No.” You sighed defeated. “But I know I know it. I do know this, there is a temple not far from here. Be vigilant.”
“Over and out.”
The text on the slab of rock seemed so familiar. Something you have read before in the past few months.
“Fushiguro I think I need to turn the connection off.”
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah, just the text on that slab it’s bugging me. I have a few documents saved on my phone about old language, some of it pertaining to Sukuna.”
“Keep me on the radio then.”
“Stay put don’t advance forward. Promise?”
He laughed before responding, “I promise.”
You slowed down your breathing and closed your eyes.
After regaining your vision you radioed Fushiguro. “Connection is stopped.”
“Got it.” He responded.
You went to grab your phone, looking through all the files and photos of old sorcerer language and looking at the translations.
Megumi on the other hand was sitting on a rock. He was about 500 hundred feet from the temple.
“Megumi come look at these flowers!” He heard a familiar voice call out to him.
“Tsumiki?” He asked turning towards the temple.
“Come here they look just like the ones from the garden don’t you think?”
Megumi couldn’t help himself he was walking closer to the temple. His body had no control. He was possessed to see his sister.
You found the document and reading the translation.
“The Mountain of Ryomen Sukuna. Temple devoted to our savior. We pray to him and built him a temple, for our master.” You read aloud. “Shit! Megumi! Get out of there now! He knew the minute we came here! Megumi! Megumi Fushiguro Answer Me!”
There was nothing but silence on the other end. You tried to reconnect with the divine dogs. You saw Megumi at the temple standing there by a bunch of dead bushes. He looked entrance with the structure.
You stopped the connection again. You know you should be keeping eyes on him but you needed to reach the others.
It wasn’t the time to set off the flare guns but you know you have no choice.
You went outside to find a clearing and shot the gun twice. A minute in between each shot.
There was a response with a single flare shot. They were coming. They were close to the board between north and south.
You reconnected with the dog again. You saw the dog running towards Megumi. Growling at the air in front of the temple. You noticed out of the corner of the dog's eye that there were cursed spirits coming out of the corners. They were heading straight towards Megumi. The Dog tried to fight them off all at once to protect his master. Until you could see any more. The connection was gone. The dog was dead and soon Megumi will too.
You had to think fast. You could sit and wait for Kugisaki and Itadori and send the other dog to find Megumi. Or you could go find him and leave the dog to bring them to you and him.
You couldn’t do a lot on your own. As minutes prior prove neither can the dog on its own.
You needed to go together. You went to a tree and left a note for the pair. You grabbed the bloody shirt and gave it to the dog.
“Find Megumi.” The dog nodded and grabbed the shirt from your hands. He sniffed it and ran upwards the mountain. As you followed the dog you mark trees with a paint ball gun you got from your bag.
You saw Megumi sitting on the ground you could see a cursed spirit leeching on his chest. Smaller ones were waiting on the edge to get the scraps of Megumi.
“Alright boy, get the smaller ones. I handle the big one.”
You had stored some cursed tools in the bag. You had a long sword.
It was like this cursed spirit was obsessed with Megumi. Didn’t even bother to look at you or the divine dog. Even at the screams of the smaller ones in the mouth of the dog.
You sliced its bottom half off. It was like a worm. You grabbed its head carefully yanking it from Megumi’s chest. You held the head and stared at it angrily. You felt your insides boil. And with that, the cursed spirit melted in your hands.
You didn’t have time to think about that. You dropped to your knees picking up Megumi in your arms. That monster opened up his wounds.
“Megumi can you hear me?” You asked softly.
“Mmm. Tsumiki.” He groaned with his eyes still closed.
His sister.
“____! Fushiguro!” Itadori called out.
You turned your head towards him. “Come quick Fushiguro is hurt.”
Itadori came over and sat down. “Apply pressure to his chest like I’m doing. I’m going to recover the finger.”
You turned towards Itadori. “Yuuji has he been present with you?”
“Sukuna? Yeah, he was being rather annoying.”
“You rang my dear.” The small face appeared on his face. You slapped Yuuji across the face.
“___ what was that for?!”
“Delicious.” The Demon smiled licking the blood on Yuuji’s face.
“He knew! He knew this place when he saw it. This temple was built for him and he stored a finger here! Tell me where the finger is Sukuna?!” You said holding Yuuji by his collar.
“Gladly. There is a box buried under the bushes.” He said smugly.
“Where is Nobara?”
“She went to get us a quick away out of here. Which we are going to need.”
You sent the dog to dig up the finger. The dog licked the outside of the box. You got the box from him.
You opened it and saw the finger. You pocketed it in the bag.
It had been a week an half since you got back from the mountain.
Megumi was still in the hospital. You were very angry at him. He promised. Right now you were held up in your room. Going over files about cursed techniques.
You stared at your hands. How did you melt that spirit?
You had called your parents and they said they would look into it for you as well.
Megumi groaned waking up. The past few days have been painful both on his chest and his head.
His friends came by and sat with him. Everyone but you.
It was around the third day he started to get worried about you and if you were ok.
“She is really mad at you. She was doing training with Maki and Gojo, after getting cleared. She was so angry.”
“She kept going on how you promised. That sea urchin promised.” Nobara said.
“How do you know that was me?” He asked.
“Have you seen your hair?” She asked.
Megumi lightly touched his hair. But that wasn’t the problem, he knows he hurt the trust he built with you. “Where is she now?”
“Held up her room. Something weird happened. She melted the cursed spirit sucking on your chest with her hands.” Itadori said slurping on some noodles.
“I’ll see her later and apologize.”
“Do you even know why she is mad?” Itadori asked him. He shook his head now. “When I was hidden, she made me promise every time I left that I would come back in one piece. She used to do that with her older brother when he left on missions. The one time they didn’t make that promise-”
“I get it,” Megumi said
Megumi was about to knock on the door. But what if you turned him away. He decided to go inside and just try and talk to you.
He opened the door to see you with candles on your window, using them as a light source. While you were reading books and papers, all spread out on your bed.
“Don’t even bother knocking? You must have hit your head too.” You commented not even looking at him.
He decided to just clear his throat.
“What I don’t even get a response to that?” You said finally looking at him. He still stood there like a statue. You got up off the bed and walked over to him. “How could you? You promised me! You walked right over there after I specifically told you to hold back. That was a direct violation of my trust and our partner's ship. You went in there without any knowledge! Which if you even bother to know that place was made for Sukuna and he hid his finger there!” You pushed his shoulder. “Huh still got nothing to say!”
He tugged you into his chest and his head fell down on your shoulder.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know what I was doing.” You felt in his chest, the way he said it he meant two different things. “This doesn’t make up for your worry for me, but I didn’t have control of myself, I was possessed.”
You were silenced for a minute. “I’m sorry for making you promise it’s not fair to do to someone.”
“It is fine. Actually thought I was going to die and I had no control over myself. And I lost one of my shikgami and I thought I was going to lose you too.”
“I thought you didn’t care about saving people?”
“I do when I care about someone.”
You had decided with that statement to hugged Megumi back. “I care about you too. You should go back to the hospital and rest some more. Maybe if you are feeling up to it we can have a ceremony for the dog. I had him cremated for you he is in your room, in a wooden box.”
“That would be nice. Walk with me to the hospital room?”
You nodded and held his hand walking back to the hospital.
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Note
Touch starved/ hurt reader - hcs or scenarios the turtles? Reader super cool regarding friendship, like funny and open etc etc, but if someone tries to do anything that implies a bit more regarding romantic stuff they are kinda like oop- no. Reader is kinda jumpy and just freezes when someone’s they like does any kind of affection ( blushes a lot, try to run away and avoid those situations) people have taken them for granted which has make them a bit cold and defensive in that area- they want to be more affectionate ( which they know deep down it’s what they crave) but it’s kinda they are a scared / angry cat? Please, hope this makes sense, thank you
( also regarding looks and gender I think you can go with they/them so everyone can see a look but if themselfs in the scenario, and if you are going to any kind of skin ship, make the reader extremely defensive over their arms and tummy pls, I do love hugs but if anyone touches my hips I’ll try to get away so fast omg sbbtjfjdkdksn and I will just close off momentarily, I absolutely hate it, I’m more on the heavy side ( talk and chubby ) and if anyone’s touches the “giggly” parts I get extremely upset ( because of how ppl havemade fun of it over the years) and I think the boys would be very “??? What?” To that reaction cuz they didn��t think it was some thing bad to have? ( like a more soft and chunky/chubby body) because they haven’t been exposed long enough to society’s judgment or beauty standards ( I mean they know about! The ones who would have read more about it maybe it’s Leo and Donnie, but what I mean maybe they have never experienced something like this - themselfs irl) Eitherway this ask is already so long omg I’m sorry and thank you, if it’s too much you don’t have to do it, have a good night/ day!)
Okay first of all I love you and I would die for you. You are a perfect human being and there is literally no one else like you. Your body does a damn good job of keeping all of your organs in place and that's what matters. If anyone tells you different you rock their absolute shit.
And don't worry, I understood the request perfectly so no worries on that, I've got a similar body type except I'm really short. But I'm also super defensive over being touched or having those parts of my body perceived, so trust me when I say you're not alone. We be vibing with this together.
Now to the writing!
TMNT Headcanons
Boys reacting to a touch starved/defensive reader
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Michaelangelo
Look man, our boy here is body positivity central, he thinks you look amazing and he wants everyone to know it
As far as you two go he's your best friend, your homie, your main man
So of course he's gonna wanna show you off, why wouldn't he?
He doesn't think you'd have a reason to not be okay with it, you've always been playful with him and his brothers
So obviously there's some widespread confusion once Casey gets tossed into the mix
All Mikey had done was reach behind him and snag you by the waist to pull you over
That was all
The words "and this is my best friend, y/n" never got the chance to leave his mouth
He was definitely not expecting you to squeak out in protest and scramble away from him as fast as humanly possible
Your face was burning red and you were clutching your sides, desperately trying not to bare your teeth in defence
Mikey couldn't help but feel heartbroken
Was there something wrong with him?
You sent Casey an unenthusiastic wave before turning on your heel and basically running out
Leaving a very confused orange turtle behind you
When he finally managed to catch up to you later you rushed to explain why you'd reacted the way you did
You couldn't stand his expression when you explained that no- you didn't think he was disgusting and no, he hadn't done anything wrong.
But he did seem baffled at you telling him that it was because you hated being touched there.
"Look Mikey, I've got no problem with the whole contact thing but you gotta give me a warning or something before you go around grabbing me. Okay?"
He was 100% fine with that
Anything to make you comfortable
But you both got to the point of being able to laugh at your reaction to the turtle trying to hold your hand
"Seriously Michaelangelo, I have a reputation to maintain. How am I supposed to do that when you're giving me feelings?"
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Donatello
It completely baffled him
By all accounts it didn't make sense
You threw around compliments like you were playing hot potato and for whatever reason you'd always find someway to playfully flirt with him
But the second one of his brothers suggested something other than the innocent friendship the two of you had you would shut down completely
And coincidentally those types of comments were made at the most inconvenient times
Nothing screamed awkward more than you going stone cold and standoffish over a piece of pie
Bubbly and excited one moment, tossing around those positive affirmations to your favorite people
And staring murderously at an inanimate object the next
You were like an unsolvable rubix cube to him
But he was determined to figure you out
"Y/N?"
You didn't appear to be busy, just sitting on the haphazard bunk in your makeshift area with a book in your lap
The others had gone out on patrol and you weren't sure where Splinter was at that particular moment which left you and Donnie holding down the lair until they got back
The perfect time to approach the subject
"Hey y/n? Can I ask you something?"
His voice always got a little louder when you were alone, less afraid of being overheard. You looked up with a smile
"Fire away Dove."
His cheeks flushed in surprise
"uhhhhh... whydoyounotlikeme?"
You set your book down and leaned forward to stare at him
"Elaborate."
And he did, god he did, he did it at the speed of sound of course, but you caught every word
let me tell you, this boys heart broke for you when you told him that you did like him
you really really did
but the thought of being romantically involved with anyone made you shut down
Donnie assured you that it was fine
he'd wait for you as long as you needed
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Raphael
Look, Raph knows a thing or two about being self conscious
out of all of his brothers he's the one who worries about his appearance the most
but you- holy shit he thinks you're the most amazing, perfect human in the world
so when he finds out that you hate being touched and that thinking about relationships makes your skin crawl he doesn't know whether to genuinely cry for you or punch someone in the mouth
both is okay
You'd always been very bold with your words and sometimes you'd even joke that you couldn't even tell when you were flirting with him
it just slipped out
and hearing that even though you could pull that off as easy as breathing and compliment all of them endlessly but you struggled to be comfortable in your own body?
that was a lot to unpack in one sitting
but the longer he sat with you and listened to you talk him through it the more he understood
sure, it was horrible
and he wouldn't likely stop thinking about hurting the people who'd done this to you (there'd be too many to count)
but you had a way of making him understand things
it was his favorite thing about you
"Uh- you know y/n, I uh- personally I think you look great. Like- all the time."
plz insert awkward finger guns here
there, your playful smirk was back and you were wiggling your eyebrows at him
"Awhhhh... is that Raph I see having feelings?"
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Leonardo
he'd done enough listening and reading to know how society treated people who it thought was different
and he hated that you'd had to experience that for most of your life
when it came down to it and he saw that you had become particularly hard on yourself he took it upon himself to check in with you
that's how you'd started meditating with him
and you'd found it quite relaxing if you were completely honest
Leo told you that meditation was the best way to connect with your body and understand it
you hoped that in time you would understand what he meant by that
but the positive affirmations were doing something, so you'd take it
he'd always encourage you when you couldn't yourself
and always jump to your defense when the others got a little to out of bounds with their words
you still would noticeably flinch when touched without warning
they were all working with that
and he still found himself saddened that you'd recoil back into your protective walls if anyone mentioned anything inherently romantic
but you were coming around
and he was endlessly proud of you for that
Alright I hope I was able to get down what you were thinking. This one definitely took the most contemplating out of any of the requests I've gotten so I hope you like it!
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youngbloodlisk · 3 years
Text
Two Dresses // Ten
- Ten in a maid outfit
- female reader, also in a dress (hence the name)
- dom/sub themes
- a bit of sub ten but more dom ten
- oral, male rec
- mirror sex
- some hair pulling
- pull-out method (be smarter than a fanfiction and practice safe sex plz)
- some aftercare
@kxnkxmoon 😚
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"Hey... is it too late to maybe... change our group costume plan?"
"Nooooo..." Sarcasm laces my roommate's voice "No, Halloween is just two days away and all of us have our costumes already except who? You."
"I'm sorry! It's surprisingly hard to find a maid costume. With maid costumes being trendy all of a sudden, they're sold out everywhere."
"Check a resale sight. Surely someone is trying to get rid of one... Oh, and filter by local pickup! You don't have time for shipping anymore."
"Fine..."
After a few hours of on-and-off searching through different sites, it's a page reload around 5pm that I finally find a listing.
Posted one hour ago, cheap, pickup in my area... but horrible photos. Bad angles, bad lighting, you can barely tell what the damn thing is. No description either. If the title didn't say "Maid Costume with Garters and Collar (Good Condition)", I wouldn't know that it was exactly what I was looking for.
But, that being said... it is exactly what I'm looking for... and it's here and available.
I message the seller to ease my nerves about the product before buying it.
"hey, do you have any other photos of the maid outfit?"
It's around thirty minutes later before I get a response from Mr. 1_0LeeCha.
"i can take some but i won't be home until tomorrow. work until late and im staying at a friend's house tonight to help him with something. i have a few from when i wore it at a work Halloween party last year that i can send in the meantime?"
"that would be awesome, thanks"
"sure one sec"
I wait a few minutes as the three typing dots remain on the screen, telling me that he's scrolling through his photos to send one.
My phone vibrates and I look back at my screen to see... something I did not expect to see.
A slender, fit body in a loose maid dress. The boy is on his knees in front of a mirror with his legs spread apart. The dress is pulled up to fully reveal the black lace garters on his thighs. The hand that isn't holding a phone is holding his dick through the fabric of the dress skirt. His face isn't visible in the photo, but his neck is stretched to the left to show off the black choker.
"OH NO no no no no no i'm so sorry i did not mean to send that one"
"lol it's okay, mistakes happen. to be fair it's still a pretty good photo of the dress. btw is that a wayv album behind you?? signed?? my roommate is a fan lol how did you get that?"
"it's a long story. im kinda close with Ten."
"my roommate says that's cool lol"
"haha yeah i guess. do you want the costume or do you still need more pics of it?"
"are the other pics gonna look like that one?"
"no!! fuck no i swear i wouldn't do that to you on purpose lol. btw i deep cleaned it after i took those photos dw"
"lol no worries i was just playing. i'll take it. pickup and pay in cash tomorrow?"
He agrees and sends me the address, telling me that any time works for him as it's his day off.
I get off work around 5pm the next day and set off straight from the diner towards his address, having no need to go home first.
It's a chilly, but thankfully short, walk in my classic blue waitress uniform.
I check the address about five times before I knock on the door, to make sure I don't show up at the wrong person's door asking for a maid costume...
That would be less than ideal.
I hear someone say, "No, no! I've got it! It's for me!" behind the door before it swings open.
"Hi! Maid costume?" The slender boy, with a body I recognize a bit too well now, cocks an eyebrow.
"That's me."
"You must be freezing out here. Come on in, it's up in my room. You can just follow me."
I nod and comply, following him inside. He closes the door and leads me down the hall to the correct room.
I recognize the dresser and window from the photo, as well as the angle of the mirror leaning against the wall by his door.
He notices the way I lightly chuckle upon recognizing the scene.
"Uh- yeah..." He laughs nervously, picking up the bag with the costume in it. "That's... embarrassing..."
"Why were you taking them anyway? Personal enjoyment?"
"Uh... long story... Listen, I'm really sorry about that-"
"I'm not."
His breath hitches and he hesitates to respond, seemingly wondering if I really just said what he thinks he heard.
"H-Huh?"
"I'm not sorry you sent it. It was pretty... and pretty hot." I take the bag out of his hand.
"Oh, really?" His head cocks to the side, his confidence returning.
Suddenly, it feels as if you could cut the sexual tension with a knife.
"Really. I wouldn't have minded if you HAD sent more, in fact."
"Oh? You liked it? You liked seeing me in that costume?" He boldly locks his hands behind my neck.
"I did..." I take the dress out of the bag, dropping the bag to the floor. I straighten the dress and hold it up to his body. "Do you wanna wear it one last time before saying goodbye to it? For me?"
He leans in, only an inch away from my face.
"You're still gonna buy it when we're done with whatever we're about to do, right?"
"Does it really matter?" I meet his lips for a moment.
When I pull away, he takes the dress out of my hands. He reaches down to pick up the bag which still holds the garters and choker, presses a finger to his lips playfully, and disappears into the connected bathroom.
I look around the room while I wait.
This guy has a lot more WayV albums, as well as NCT albums, all of which I recognize from my roommate's shelf.
He has a lot of books that look worn. No telling if he reads a lot or if he just bought them used...
I spot a framed photo on one of the dressers. It looks to be him and his friends (all male) in princess/similar costumes. All of them are smiling or making a funny face.
The guy I recognize looks to be in an Alice in Wonderland costume, which makes me wonder where that costume could be.
The bathroom door opens, calling my attention and making me turn around.
There he is, in that maid dress, leaning against the doorframe. He tosses the clothes he was previously wearing into the corner of the room.
I can't help but notice the orange and gray striped underwear in the pile of clothes.
"You look even prettier in person, especially now that I can see your face. I didn't expect a boy so pretty."
"Well I didn't expect you to be so pretty either... much less wearing a 50's diner waitress outfit. That's for work, right? Or did you get all dressed up to come see me?" He playfully saunters over to me and places his hands behind my neck again, in the same way they were before he changed clothes.
"Cute. And what do you do for a living?"
"Long story." He begins to close the gap between us again.
"You seem to be full of those."
"Maybe I'll explain them all next time."
"Are you implying you already want there to be a next time? We haven't even done anything yet, tiger. Are you really that needy?"
"Are you gonna keep running your mouth or are you gonna kiss me?"
Instead of responding either way, I grab his waist and turn us both around. I push him gently, but hard enough to make him fall back onto his bed.
I quickly crawl on top of him, hungrily attaching my lips to his and straddling him.
His hands run up my thighs and under my dress, resting on my hips.
Things escalate quickly as he presses his hips up, the maid skirt falling to expose his hardening cock, and he grinds against my underwear.
"So desperate, aren't you?" I quickly comment before returning to his lips.
He hums as an agreeing response.
I grind down onto him to create more friction which causes him to moan into my mouth.
I move from his lips to his jaw and slowly down his neck to his collarbone, all while still grinding roughly against his hard dick.
Soft moans leave the boy and his breathing gets progressively faster.
His shaking hand starts tugging my underwear down, and I stop and sit up to take them off for him.
Once the blue underwear are tossed into the corner with his clothes, I resume my previous action of grinding into him. This time, however, his cock is running through my folds, making me moan.
"Oh, it feels so... so good..." He chokes out, breathlessly, grabbing onto the sheets with both hands. "Please..."
He begins to rapidly buck his hips up, matching my grinding perfectly, until his body begins to shudder and his movements become jerky.
"I'm c-cl- I'm gonna-"
"Cum for me, sweetheart." I brush his hair out of his eyes, which gloss over as a sticky substance covers our respective dresses.
He catches his breath for a moment, but his energy returns fairly quickly. Good stamina, I assume.
I slow my movement on him, but continue to seek the friction his shaft was giving me, until he firmly grasps my hips and holds me still.
I can usually keep my cool, but this action definitely shocks me... especially when I look into his dark eyes.
"And w-what do you think you're doing?"
"I sub for my own benefit, not yours."
"That's actually not very subby of you."
"Your voice is shaking. That's actually not very dominant of you... but it makes sense. Did you think telling me to put on a maid costume meant you were gonna take full control?" He scoffs, swiftly flipping us over and pinning me under him. His bare knee slides between my thighs, pushing against my wet pussy, and he holds my wrists against the mattress on either side of my head. He leans down, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispers... "You're dreaming, honey."
His knee slowly rubs against me and I can feel the garter which is falling down his leg.
The lace brushes my clit as he moves, sending a shiver down my back.
He doesn't let me enjoy it for very long, however.
He gets off of me and stands up, telling me to get up as well.
I stand slightly confused, and extremely sexually frustrated, next to the bed as I watch him pull his white desk into the center of the room.
He pulls off the falling garter, and starts to take off the other one until I quickly tell him to stop.
I bend down on my knees in front of him and carefully take the lace between my teeth.
Looking up at him, he's practically drooling watching me slowly drag the garter down his leg with my teeth.
Once it reaches his ankle, I let go and he kicks it off to the side.
Before he can even speak, I lift up his dress and wrap my lips around his tip. His knees buckle for a moment at the sudden sensation.
He leans back, grabbing onto the edge of the desk behind him for support.
I take as much of him in my mouth as I can, almost on the verge of gagging, and try to handle the last part with my hand.
I can tell he's trying to resist the urge to grab me and fuck my mouth, so I try to make it worth it with the way I suck and lick and stroke him.
When I look up at him with innocent eyes, he shudders and pulls me off of him, also pulling me to my feet in the process.
"If you keep that up, I'll cum again... and I'm not cumming again unless it's because of your wet little pussy. So, bend over the desk."
As I follow his instruction, I realize what he did.
He placed the desk in front of the mirror. The same mirror from the photo which started all of this.
He positions himself behind me, flipping my skirt up and running a slender finger over my pussy.
"So wet..." He sticks that finger in his mouth and licks it clean. "And so delicious too."
He runs his finger through my folds a few more times and sucks them clean as he lines up and pushes into me.
The stretch burns in the best way possible.
I grip the edge of the table as he starts to rock his hips.
My back arches and my eyes shut tightly, but he tells to look in the mirror.
The way the mirror is angled, I'm able to see under the table and watch him fuck me. I watch him disappear inside of me and come back out, which only makes me realize more just how big he is and how deep he's reaching.
He places one hand on my hip and the other on my shoulder before he picks up his pace and starts to fuck me harder and faster.
I can't hold back my moans, feeling him so deep and watching it all happen in that mirror.
I notice his cocky smile.
He removes his hand from my shoulder and reaches down to rub my clit, causing my legs to start shaking. My orgasm starts to approach.
"Look at you..." He smirks at me, locking eyes with me in the mirror. "So pretty and getting ruined by a boy in a maid dress. I'm sure you expected this to go differently, didn't you?"
I let out a loud guttural moan and avert my eyes to the desk right under me, my head facing down.
"Baby, I can feel you clenching. Are you getting close?"
I shakily nod my head and feel his hand leave my clit for a moment as he takes a hold of hair at the root and pulls my head up to look at the mirror again.
"Watch it. Watch yourself cum all over my pretty cock."
He lets go of my hair, clearly expecting me to remain looking in the mirror, and he starts playing with my clit again.
My toes curl and I have a hard time keeping my head up as my orgasm finally rushes through my body. I clench around his dick and he helps me ride out my high before pulling out and jerking himself until he cums on the back of my uniform.
I feel almost limp as I lay across the table. My eyes are heavy, so I simply close them. I can't see anything that happens, but I can hear and feel that he goes to the bathroom and brings back a towel to wipe the cum off my clothes.
"Can you stand?" He asks gently.
I can, and better with someone to lean on, but my legs are a little shaky.
He uses the dampened part of the towel he got to wipe at the cum on the front of my clothes, before carefully having me sit on the edge of the bed.
He helps me pull the dress off of my sweaty body, tossing it to the pile of clothes.
"Wait here." He instructs, going into his closet.
He comes back with some comfortable looking sweats and hands them to me to wear.
I slowly dress myself and watch as he quickly changes his own clothes and then takes all the soiled clothes in his arms and leaves the room.
When he returns, the clothes in his hands have been replaced with a few bottles of water.
"Here, hydrate." He smiles, handing me one of the bottles. "I tossed the clothes in the wash. I hope you can stay for a bit, but if you can't then I can come bring you your clothes once they're dry-"
I don't miss the shining glint in his eye when I cut him off with:
"No, it's okay. I can stay for a while."
We both chug a couple bottles of water each before cuddling up in his bed to talk... which quickly turns into napping.
I wake up to a darker window than when I fell asleep, and I carefully pull myself away from the man to check the clock on the nightstand.
9:00PM.
I've been here for almost four hours, and asleep for almost three of them.
Quickly, a lot of thoughts come to mind.
One of us needs to put our clothes in the dryer.
I need to go home, I can't stay the night here.
Should I wake him?
As I watch his sleeping face, calmly breathing and mouth slightly open, I can't help but smile at how adorable he looks.
Before we cuddled up together, I placed my phone on the nightstand. I slowly and quietly pick it up, opening the camera and snapping a little photo of him.
I'll ask him when he wakes up if it's okay for me to keep it.
I brush a tuft of hair out of his face, which makes me remember when I did that same thing a few hours ago.
I feel my face heat up as I think back to what we did...
Around a half hour later, he's rudely woken up by his phone ringing.
Sleepily, he answers the call from a phone contact named "YangX2".
"What do you want?... Well, now I am... I don't know, uh-" He turns to me. "Are you planning to stay over?"
I shake my head, trying to be as polite as I can.
"She isn't... Yeah, I know... Obviously... Oh, thanks dude... Hey, that's mine!... I don't care that you found it, it was in my pants... Fine, if you've already spent it then-... Whatever... Yeah, thanks... Bye."
He hangs up and looks at me again.
"Good news and bad news. Good news, YangYang put the clothes in the dryer for us when the washing finished, so they're dry now. Bad news, he found money in my pants and bought him and Xiaojun some snacks at the convenience store."
I laugh with him about his stolen cash, which evolves into an awkward silence.
"Well, um... I should get going. My roommate hates being alone in our apartment at night."
"Oh! Yeah, yeah, sure. I'll go get all your clothes for you." He gets up out of the bed and rubs his eyes as he leaves the room.
I make sure I have my phone and my bag, as well as everything that's supposed to be in the bag, while I wait.
Far too soon, he's hugging me goodbye next to the taxi he called for me.
My load is lighter by a couple monetary bills and heavier by a (clean) maid costume.
"Oh! I almost forgot..." I take out my phone and pull up the photo I took of him sleeping. "You just looked so peaceful and cute... is that okay?"
A smile lights up his face, as if somebody taking a photo of him asleep is the cutest thing anyone's ever done in his eyes.
"Yeah, absolutely."
"Good. I'll... I'll see you around..." I trail off, realizing he never even told me his name.
"Yeah, I'll see you around..." He also trails off, probably realizing that I never gave him my name either.
We share a look, however.
A look that says that some things are better left a mystery.
I get in the cab and close the door, giving the driver the address of an apartment building just a couple blocks from where I actually live.
The moment I open the door to my apartment, I'm attacked.
"Where did you go? What happened? Are you okay? I thought you just had work until 5 and then picking up the costume. So, why didn't you get home until 10pm?!"
I explain everything.
Well, not everything of course... but the general things.
"Oh my goodness... was he cute? You said he stans NCT, of course he's cute. Do you have a photo of him?"
"Yeah, actually..." I pull up the adorable sleeping boy on my phone and show her.
Her eyes about pop out.
"TEN?!"
"Huh?"
"That's Ten! That's a member of WayV!"
"Wait- what?"
I suddenly remember what he said when I asked about the signed album in the photo.
"Kinda close with Ten" my ass...
162 notes · View notes
ao3komorii · 3 years
Text
Tangling with the Boss (Sett/Reader)
Finally, my Sett story! This one is in two parts so I’ll be posting the other part either today or tomorrow. Some little notes for this; Sett’s mother doesn’t have a canonical name as of right now so I made a name for her, and Sett’s full name is Settrigh (canon, I didn’t make that one up lol). Also, there is smut at the end. I hope you enjoy! :)
----
Navori, Ionia had not always been your home. You had been a respectable young Demacian citizen, from a good family. You were spoiled, but had never caused any trouble, never created any waves. You had a good education and a supportive family, at least until you woke up on the morning of your twenty-second birthday.
Everyone in Demacia was familiar with the mageseekers. The squad that captured and confined anyone found to have magic powers; magic was a danger, and anyone who possessed any must be removed from society. You had been taught that from an early age, and had seen the mageseekers around in their half-masks, easily accepting their purpose in society. But that day you had woken up in a sweat with a scream, your clothes in tatters from the fire that engulfed your arms and legs. Your parents had burst into the room just as you realized that the fire didn’t hurt.
Your mother gasped and your father stared at you with disgust and hatred in his eyes. They both turned and ran back into the hallway, and you knew the mageseekers would soon be upon you. Everything in your mind had screamed at you to do what was right and wait for the mageseekers to come and take you away forever, but in this moment, you finally realized what a broken system you lived in. If these so-called dangerous mages were anything like you, then they didn’t deserve what had happened to them. And if you stayed, you were looking at life imprisonment at best, and a slow, painful death at worst.
And so you ran. With nothing but a dress hastily grabbed from your closet, you had fled your home and Demacia altogether. Noxus was no friend to Demacia, but the violence that raged there told you that it would not welcome you with open arms. From your years of schooling, you knew that the island of Ionia, across the Noxian waters, would be your only option. Ionia was a place that tolerated magic, which had been a source of disdain for your teacher when it had come to geography lessons. It was just unlucky for you that to get to Ionia, you would have to cross Noxian territory and then find passage on a ship at the Noxian shores that was headed to Ionia.
You had no choice but to cross Noxus, staying on the far borders and attracting as little attention as you could. As someone who had grown up in a wealthy household, it had been a big change for you to suddenly forage for your own food and shelter, your only comfort being your new fire powers keeping you warm in the cold nights. You were slowly growing better at controlling it, but not good enough to avoid a few close calls with suspicious Noxians that you then had to flee from. You were sure that you looked awful, filthy, and tired, but you eventually reached the Noxian coast and managed to sneak onto a small passenger ship as it loaded some barrels.
Getting to Ionia had been a huge culture shock for you; here, magic was everywhere, and people of all kinds roamed the streets. It was such a difference from your old life, but watching families walk the streets reminded you sadly of what you had left behind. You had nothing here but your freedom, which stirred complicated feelings in your heart, but being here alone was much better than rotting in a dungeon or losing your head to the executioner’s block back in Demacia.
You had nowhere to go, and so you had wandered around until your feet hurt and your eyes were tired of being open. You had found an only somewhat grungy alleyway and collapsed in sleep as soon as you had sat down. You had no idea how long you had slept for, but you were awoken by a gentle hand grazing over your hair. Your brain hadn’t fully accepted your fall from Demacian grace, and you opened your eyes expecting to see your mother, but you were instead greeted by a beautiful middle-aged woman with light purple hair and matching soft furred ears atop her head.
You had never seen a Vastayan before, only read about them in books. Your Demacian teachers had only referred to them negatively as barbaric creatures that embraced terrifying magic. But your status as a fugitive mage had you questioning what you had been told, and so you had agreed to the woman’s offer to bring you to her home to patch up the wounds you only now noticed you had, adrenaline keeping the stinging pains at bay until then.
Ciorah had noticed right away that you were not from Ionia, and she had later told you that she saw something of herself in you that day that made her feel that she couldn’t leave you alone to die on the streets. She had taken you to her modest home, insisting on giving you food and some of her spare clothes. She was nothing but nice to you, and in return you had told her how you came to be in Navori. She had listened, and comforted you in a way that was not unlike your own mother. And she had told you about her son, who she had explained was off building a school at the time, and how sweet a boy he was.
You had talked with her for quite a while, as you had nowhere to be in the first place. When it started to get cold as the night rolled in, Ciorah asked you to show her your magic, and you had obliged only after she had reassured you that Vastaya were creatures of magic, and therefore it was harder to injure them with it. She smiled gently as you allowed a small flame to light in your palm, and helped guide your hand to light a simple blue-tinted candle with ease.
You had been surprised with how easily she guided your magic, unsure of how you had the luck to come across her in the first place. She would not let you leave her home that night, insisting that she had a friend that you had to meet the next day. You were ushered to sleep in her son’s childhood bed, Ciorah silencing all of your protests that you didn’t want to trouble her.
The next day, she took you to see a proud Vastayan woman with a stern gaze and a blonde braid laid over her shoulder. You had been invited into her home, where you noticed delicate glass works displayed around the rooms.
The woman, Inora, became your mentor. She had been creating glass works to sell for years, and had once belonged to the same Vastayan community as Ciorah before they had both been expelled. While Inora looked outwardly intimidating, she sympathized with your situation and had readily offered to help you harness your powers in exchange for working as her apprentice and helping her shape glass with your fire.
You had accepted the apprenticeship, and began to train under Inora, your powers slowly becoming easier to manipulate. Ionia had become your home, and eventually it became easier to avoid thinking of where you had come from. You were often sent out to deliver orders, and it made you happy that Inora trusted you with more responsibilities.
You had just finished your deliveries for the day, and had one more stop to make. When you had some extra materials, Inora would let you make little glass trinkets to give to Ciorah. You had made her a small cat out of glass this time, and fished it out of your bag carefully as you knocked on her door.
Ciorah welcomed you in happily, placing the glass cat beside the other animals you had made for her in past. As with every time you visited her, Ciorah had you seated with a cup of handmade tea in front of you.
“I am always happy to see you doing well,” she said softly, taking a small sip of her own cup of tea.
You smiled, knowing better than to tell her the only reason you were okay was because of her. You had told her so many times already that you didn’t want to get on her nerves, so instead you visited her often and brought her new glass pieces whenever you could to show how much you appreciated her kindness.
“How are you doing?” you asked. You had been worried as of late with there being an increased ruffian presence in town, and Ciorah was an ideal target for those with compromised morals looking for an easy mark.
“Everything is fine,” she reassured you, before looking over to the door with her brow furrowed. “I told Settrigh to come by, but I do not think you will get to meet him today.”
You waved her comment off with a smile. “It’s alright, I know his job keeps him busy.”
In the year you had been in Ionia, you still had yet to meet Ciorah’s son despite all the time you had spent in her company. You knew that he worked hard to provide for her, so you could forgive him for never being there when you were. Though it didn’t make you any less curious to meet the kind, hardworking young man. If he was anything like his mother, you were sure that you would get along well with him. You had Ciorah and Inora, but a part of you lamented no longer having any friends of your own age category.
“Be careful on your way back,” Ciorah’s voice broke through your thoughts. “I have heard that some of the brutes from the fighting pits have been causing trouble lately.”
The fighting pits. You had heard of the brawling arena in the Noxian district of Navori. You hadn’t been in that part of Navori, let alone in the pit itself. You had seen loud, tough-looking men around town, and if they were any indication of what their place of employment was like, you weren’t interested.
“I’ll be careful,” you promised her, changing the subject to something lighter. “Inora wanted me to ask if you needed any supplies…”
Talking with Ciorah caused time to go by without you noticing. It came as a surprise to you when you decided to look behind you to a window and discovered how dark it was outside. Ciorah was quick to notice as well, and insisted that you head home before it got potentially dangerous outside.
“I’ll come by tomorrow,” you promised her as she saw you off with a smile.
The streets of Navori were fairly busy, as it was barely evening. Your walk would only take around fifteen minutes, ten if you took the side streets, which you had opted to do this time. It wasn’t late enough for you to get into any trouble, so you felt safe enough to take your usual shortcuts. Maybe you were being naïve, but although you had heard stories, nothing untoward had happened to you in your time in Ionia. Still, you avoided meeting anyone’s gaze as you maneuvered around a mother and child perusing a fruit cart and entered the alleyway just behind them.
The alleyway was darker than normal, so after a cursory look around, you lit a small flame on your palm after seeing nobody else in the area. With the light of the flame as your guide, you walked to the end of the alleyway, turning the corner as usual and stepping over the dip in the stone floor. You had been mentally going over the list of things you had to remember to tell Inora when you got back, so caught up in your own thoughts that you didn’t notice a large frame move to block your way. You collided with the man who was right in front of you, stumbling back and into another man who was suddenly behind you. You hurriedly looked between them as they both leered down at you, closing in on you.
“We got a little mage here,” the one in front of you taunted, jerking his head to his buddy, which made his choppy, greasy hair bounce.
You gasped; you hadn’t realized that the flame in your palm was still lit, and quickly extinguished it. You had nowhere to go, and they knew it. You could only shudder as the man behind you brought some of your hair to his nose as he stared you down in an intimidating manner.
He dropped the lock of hair as he noticed you looking back at him in terror. “Too good to talk to us?” he jeered.
“She ain’t too good for the fightin’ pits,” the first man added. “They straighten out bitches with their noses in the air.”
“Even if she dies, we’d get a finder’s fee,” the second man replied.
You tried to dash around the man in front of you, but he caught your arm and threw you to the ground. You were about to scream, but silenced yourself with a whimper as a knife was thrust close to your face. The large, greasy man stared down at you with a predatory grin as his friend moved the knife down to press slightly on your neck.
“Yer gonna earn us enough money to pay all our debts!” he announced as you were grabbed and forced back on your feet.
“Or die tryin’!” the other man joked, both men cackling with laughter.
You were dragged out of the alleyway, the knife at your neck replaced by a too-tight grip on your arm to arouse less suspicion. You looked around with eyes wide in terror, hoping that someone noticed you were out of place and needed help. But no matter how much you tried to catch someone’s eye, nobody spared you even a glance. As you were dragged along further, you suspected that this was the seedy part of town, because it seemed like everyone was ignoring you on purpose as you passed them. Everyone here had their own illegal business to conduct and none of them had any care for one girl in trouble.
The next turn opened up to a densely crowded area, packed with women with sharp eyes and men with muscles bigger than any you had seen before. There was not a friendly face in the crowd as you were jostled by the men dragging you through the throng of people and towards a side entrance that was manned by a heavily muscled man with thick eyebrows and tattoos littering his arms.
“We got a late entry,” the man with the vice grip on you stated.
The assumed-bouncer raised a thick eyebrow. “You think she has any chance?”
“If she do, we want our cut of it!” the skinnier captor cackled.
You looked pleadingly at the bouncer, hoping he could see that you were not willing to be here. “Please, help me, I don’t want to–”
You were cut off as a fist to the back of your head caused you to bite your tongue, the taste of iron filling your mouth at the same time as you felt your skull ring with pain.
“Shut it, bitch,” the larger captor shouted.
You felt tears prick your eyes as you silently cried, blood dripping from your mouth and onto your chin. You risked one more look at the bouncer, who stared at you impassively for a moment before standing aside and opening the door. You would get no sympathy here.
“See Dedric’s till, he’ll check you in,” the bouncer grunted, and you were quickly pushed in the door, the man slamming it shut behind your group.
The two men immediately rounded on you and you were shoved against a wall. The skinnier man leaned in towards your face, his chipped and dirty teeth on full display and way too close when you had no room to move away. “You try anythin’ like that again and we’ll kill ya right here.”
“Ain’t no one in the pits gonna care about one dead bitch,” the larger man chimed in.
They wasted no more time, grabbing you and pulling you through the barren hallway and up to a man with an eye patch and shaggy black hair who sat at a desk with a large chart in front of him and a surplus of coins just behind him in a chest.
“Got one more for the lineup,” the skinny man told the man at the till; Dedric, you had to assume.
Dedric grinned as he stared you down. It was clear to you where on your body he was staring, and it wasn’t your eyes. He looked down at his list for only a moment before looking at your captors. “I s’pose you’ll want a finder’s fee,” he drawled. “Ya can get it now, or double after the fight if she survives.”
The brazen talk of your fate sent a shiver up your spine. You let a few more tears fall as the men discussed details, just wishing that you were back with Ciorah; you’d even take a scolding from Inora over the likely awful death you had coming.
“We’ll do the double,” the large captor sneered.
“Ya might get lucky,” Dedric replied, jotting something down on his list. “We got a lotta amateurs on tonight.”
After he finished writing, Dedric finally looked you in the eyes. “Ya got a stage name?”
How dare he even ask when it was so obvious that you were not here of your own free will? You felt anger overwhelm the fear you felt for a moment. You glared at him, refusing to answer his question. You would have no willing part in this murderous spectacle.
Dedric looked annoyed with you, gesturing dismissively to the side. “Take her to the stage. Lookin’ forward to watchin’ the attitude beat out of her.”
The skinny man held his knife to your neck again as you were then pulled down another hallway and towards the competitor’s area, several men in flashy outfits scattered around, sharpening weapons or talking amongst each other.
“Please,” you tried one last time. “Please don’t do this!”
“Please!” the larger man said in a high-pitched mock imitation of your voice, both men breaking out in obnoxious laughter.
“Looks like yer up first!” the skinny one said as they handed you off to another burly man, who you assumed was overseeing the competitors.
“No!” you protested uselessly.
“Use that firepower and maybe you’ll earn us double!” the large captor taunted as they made their way towards the spectator stands.
Without any say in the matter, you were shoved out into the large arena, rows and rows of people staring down at you as you stumbled and fell onto your hands and knees, palms stinging from the impact. Looking around, you noticed no friendly faces in the crowd, just a large group of intimidating strangers that were all sizing you up.
Just as you were standing up, chatter and applause rang out from all around you, and you looked for the source, since it obviously wasn’t you. You didn’t have to look far as a man strutted out from the pit entrance behind you.
He strutted around the ring, giving you an opportunity to assess him as well. He was a large figure, muscles prominently on display from his lack of a shirt, red paint splashed across his skin like blood. Or maybe it was blood, he was too far away from you at the moment for you to tell. He was clearly Noxian, a large Noxian crest tattoo visible on his back when he turned his back to you in order to face the crowd. He flexed his muscles for the loudly cheering crowd for a few more minutes before he finally acknowledged you, although your attention had been turned away from him to look for any escape routes.
“Too bad we gotta fight,” he remarked offhandedly. “You’d make a real nice ring girl.”
He said it loudly, despite being ten or so feet away from you, obviously intending to impress the crowd with his trash talking. You just rolled your eyes, feeling bitter and angry that you had even gotten in this situation in the first place. You would never see Ciorah or Inora again because two criminals decided to target you, and it wore down any spirit you had left to think that you had made a happy life here just to die in the fighting pits.
The announcer then declared that the fight was to begin from his cushy podium, sending your heart rate skyrocketing. You were very clearly trapped; scaling the twenty foot walls that led up to the stands wasn’t going to be an option. Your opponent walked to the opposite side of the arena that would be his starting point, readying himself by materializing two very sharp daggers out of thin air and sending a bloodthirsty smirk your way.
This practice was barbaric, and you took one last look at the crowd for any hope of someone who would understand that you weren’t here willingly and want to help you, but all you saw in their eyes was their eagerness to watch you die. You felt disappointment radiate from within you as movement caught your eye; a large man entered a relatively barren area of the stands, and you noticed the furred ears atop his head immediately. A Vastayan in the fighting pits? The only Vastayans you knew were the opposite of anyone who would ever come here. You realized that he was looking back at you as your eyes drifted from his ears to his eyes. You weren’t sure what to make of his cold, calculated gaze, but a loud whistle brought you back to your current problem; the fight was on.
Your opponent began to run at you, faster than you thought possible, and you threw yourself to the side just in time to dodge the first swipe of his blades. You had no combat experience at all, all you had was your magic. Magic that you sparingly used and had never used to hurt anyone before. The thought of using your magic like that scared you, but you didn’t have a lot of options at the moment. You scrambled up and were about to make a run for it, but found yourself pinned in place as the Noxian threw both of his daggers, which struck both sides of your loose-fitting shirt and then embedded in the wall behind you, one dagger grazing the flesh of your side as well. You cried out in pain, too scared to form tears as you tried to pry the daggers from the wall to free yourself.
The man sauntered over lazily to screams from the audience for him to finish you off. “We had some fun, sweetheart. But I think it’s time to show you how we say goodbye in Noxus.”
You didn’t understand his reference, but the crowd got noticeably excited as he cracked his knuckles, now only a foot away from you. Even if you escaped the daggers, he was too close for you to get away from him. This brute would take your life to the sounds of thunderous applause unless you did something now. You took your hands off of the daggers and raised them up, palms facing towards the Noxian.
“Please stop…” you begged him. You really didn’t want to hurt him, but you didn’t want to die. You would have to put up a fight.
“Little late to be beggin’ for mercy!” he cackled, and one of the daggers pinning you disappeared and reappeared in his hand. “Time’s up!”
His dagger didn’t have a chance to get closer as you let go and he was blasted with a spray of searing fire.
It was turning out to be a bad night for Sett.
He had been disturbed on the way to his ma’s house by one of his men in a panic, who had informed him that the two competitors for the crowd-drawing fight of the night had gotten in a drunken brawl earlier and had both been arrested by the Ionian authorities. His knuckles twitched as he changed course and made his way to the pit earlier than he had intended to. He knew that his ma would forgive him, but he hated breaking promises that he made to her. Sett had a way he liked doing things, but without a headlining fight, his options were slim; get in the ring himself, or put on an amateur night.
His momma had been worried about the influx of Noxians to the Ionian shores lately, and he knew she would be on high alert for any new injuries on him. The one thing he hated above all was being the cause of her worries, so he gave the orders to scout out competitors for amateur night. Maybe he’d find some new talent to replace the two drunken morons permanently. He wasn’t worried about either of them complaining about being replaced; it was a well-known fact that Sett didn’t give second chances. Not to anyone that messed with his money.
Once a group of men had been dispatched to spread the news that they were recruiting for the night, Sett made sure everyone was aware of the change. Newbie nights always drew in a lot of overconfident braggarts who spent more time showboating than they lasted in the ring, so everything would be timed carefully. The more fights he could pack in one night, the more bets they could take in. Amateur nights almost never had clear winners before the fights began, so the house won more than on nights where the big names came to fight. It sorta made up for the smaller crowds on amateur nights, but some money was better than no money.
Ensuring everything was ready took longer than usual, and by the time Sett had taken his place in the stands, the first fight was about to start. He already had a distaste for the muscle man with the Noxian tattoo. They never seemed to stop reminding him of the father that had abandoned him and his ma. He didn’t feel the need to fight Noxians in general, but he never minded watching them lose in his pit. The Noxian was parading around; not unexpected for a rookie to go heavy on the taunts but light on the punches.
Having had his fill of assessing the Noxian, Sett turned his gaze to the other competitor, only to discover that she had been staring at him already. They met eyes for a few moments, which was enough for Sett to notice how out of place she looked. Last minute nerves happened sometimes, but this girl was on another level. He was across the pit from her, but he suspected that she was crying. What kind of idiot had booked this crybaby for a fight?
“Who did she sign up with?” he asked one of the till masters, Ryo, who had also come to watch the fight.
“I saw her at Dedric’s with two other guys,” was the answer he received.
Dedric… Dedric had been working at the pits since before Sett had taken them over, which was something he knew the man had been unhappy about. Sett didn’t insist that everyone like him, but he expected obedience to his rules. And signing up weaklings for fights that lasted ten seconds was not good for business. If fights were short, the spectators got bored, and his tills got lighter.
“Do you want to stop the fight?” Ryo asked carefully, knowing better than to force any opinion on the pit boss.
“Nah,” Sett replied. “Let it go on. But I want Dedric’s till checked at the end of the night.”
Bets had been taken, and Sett wasn’t going to stop the fight now and lose out on the coin it generated. He would talk to Dedric later; for now, he was interested to see if the cocky Noxian had any skills to back up his mouthing off.
The Noxian brandished two daggers from thin air and charged at the girl. Sett stared her down, waiting for her to do something worthy of interest as she dived to the side to avoid a direct blow. Well, maybe the fight would last twenty seconds instead of ten, he mused.
The Noxian’s next move pinned the girl to the wall with his daggers, and he began to taunt her as she cried and begged for mercy. Sett had thought something was up before, but now he knew. Dedric would have to be out of his mind to book this girl, unless he was counting on fixing some easy matches. Nobody would volunteer for a match to the death that they didn’t think they could win, and Sett smelled a rat. He kept his business away from the Ionian authorities’ grasp, but shit like kidnapping local girls for pit fights would bring attention that he did not want. He wouldn’t stop this fight and draw attention away from the matches, but Dedric was gonna learn very soon why he should’ve played by Sett’s rules.
He flexed his knuckles as he watched the Noxian go for the killing blow; the corpse cart standing by, ready to collect the girl’s body. But the cheers and chants from the crowd died down to a whisper as the Noxian let out a terrified scream. Sett only had a second to duck as a wave of fire shot out from the girl, which travelled all the way across the room and ended at the wall directly behind where he had been standing.
At first he thought it had been an attack meant for him, but as he glanced down to the pit, he saw that the fire had hit its intended mark. The Noxian was unrecognizable, a black human-shaped figure. Sett couldn’t tell if he was alive or dead, but the corpse cart was wheeled over as the girl collapsed on the floor, the remaining dagger in her side disappearing, a clear sign that the Noxian was no longer alive. Her clothes in burnt tatters, the girl curled up on her side and sobbed. It wasn’t a sight he had seen in the pit before, and he was taken aback.
“Guess she ain’t as weak as she looks,” Ryo remarked with a low whistle.
The crowd remembered to breathe again as the body of the Noxian was wheeled away. There was a mix of cheers and boos, the latter likely from those who had bet against the girl. The doors to the pit opened up, an enforcer entering with two men at his heels. The men were out of place, looking more like con artists than pit fighters. Ryo was looking out at the same scene as the two men attempted to haul the girl to her feet as she resisted heavily.
“Those were the guys who brought her in. You think…?” Ryo prompted.
“Yeah.” Ryo didn’t have to finish his sentence for Sett to know that they both suspected the same thing about the situation. “Invite those two to the back office. I want the girl separated from them. I’ll deal with Dedric later.”
Ryo immediately left to oversee the orders, and Sett watched as Ryo appeared in the arena and had the two men and the girl escorted out of the pit so the next competitors could fight it out. He trusted that Ryo could handle the problem for now; any action on his part would have to wait until the crowd had gone home for the night. And with more fights to come, Sett settled back into his chair and kept his focus on the pit.
You were not being dragged away by those creeps again, not after barely surviving the fight at the expense of taking a life. You struggled, hoping the pressure of the crowd would keep them from pulling the knife on you again.
“Get up!” the skinny one screeched at you. “Get your ass up!”
Their tugging on your limbs paused as a man with dark hair in a low ponytail and an overly pleasant smile approached.
“Gentleman, the boss would like to talk some business after the rounds,” he explained smoothly. “We may even triple your finder’s fee.”
Your heart sunk. So nobody here was a decent person? You would get nowhere being on the floor, so you reluctantly stood up, your captors taking an arm each to allow you no chance of escape. You could only do what you could to avoid further violence being inflicted on you. You followed the smooth-talking man down the hallway you had been in before, up until he stopped in front of a door.
“You can wait in here for the boss,” the man announced, but didn’t stand aside for the men to enter. “She’s gotta go in another room. Can’t have the talent present while the men talk business.”
Your captors seemed to accept his logic, stepping into the room, obviously mentally counting their imminent profits from your enslavement. Whereas all you could think about was how you were going to get out of this. You were reluctant to hurt anyone, but maybe if you threatened this man with your powers, he’d let you leave. You followed him to the room next door, readying yourself to throw a fireball and run if necessary. But before you could work up your nerve, the door was shut and you were left alone with a promise that the boss would be paying you a visit soon.
You paced around the room, trying to think of what to do. Inora must be so worried that you hadn’t returned home, but you had no way to contact her from here. And even if you did, you doubted that she could get you out of this viper’s den. You would have to do something. You had lost track of time, stuck in your own thoughts until you heard muffled shouting from the room next door. You couldn’t make out what they were saying, but the voices sounded angry. You crept closer to the wall to try and hear better, but just as you put your ear to the wall, there was a heavy impact to the other side of the wall, which jolted you backwards, landing on your back and knocking the wind out of you.
You had to get out of here. You had heard the click of a lock earlier when the smooth-talker had left, but maybe you could just burn the door down? You ran a hand along the door; it was unfortunately solid. You had never tested your powers like this before, so you were unsure of if you could accidentally enflame the entire building. You had no idea what had happened in the room next door, which was now eerily quiet, but you weren’t about to be next. Not without trying to get out of here. You placed both palms to the wooden door, ready to burn right through it, when it was opened from the outside, sending you flying forward, eyes shut reflexively for the impact to the floor.
“And here I thought you were done fightin’.”
Your eyes snapped open at the deep male voice and sudden grip on your forearms, only to see the Vastayan man from before. You were eye-level with his very muscular chest, and looked further up to see him looking down at you with an eyebrow raised. Up close, you could make out every little scratch on his ruggedly handsome face, your eyes drawn to one small white scar that ran down one side of his bottom lip and ended just a bit above his chin. You came back to yourself all at once, flushing with embarrassment as you realized that you had been staring at him too long.
You remembered your situation, jerking back and out of his grip, which surprised him. Your need to separate yourself from him resulted in you falling to the floor again, and you began to quickly scramble away from the man.
He brought a hand up to itch at the back of his neck as he casually stepped into the room. “Relax,” he said, moving closer to you. “I ain’t gonna hurt ya.”
“Please, please don’t–” You were babbling, and you knew it, but you didn’t know what else to do as you curled into a ball on the floor, keeping your eyes on his approaching figure.
He looked somewhat annoyed, halting where he stood a few feet away from you. “Look, we beat the story outta those scumbags that brought you here. You’re free to go.”
His words swept away your fears of immediate and swift peril, which was quickly replaced by confusion as you slowly sat up. “But…”
“I know what good girls like you think ‘a the pits, but mine ain’t like that,” he explained. “We only take willing fighters.”
“I didn’t…” you trailed off, deciding not to voice your half-hearted protests. You definitely had thought exactly that, so you weren’t sure why you had tried to deny his assertion. “You’re going to let me leave?”
“I would invite ya back, but I don’t think the pit is the right place for a cryin’ city girl,” he replied.
“Thank you!” you exclaimed, ignoring the insult. You weren’t sure what to say, but you didn’t want him to have any reason to reverse his decision. He ran a fighting pit, so clearly he wasn’t all there morally, but you didn’t want to stay here and access him further, not when he was giving you a free pass to get out of here.
You stood up, keeping your eyes on him as you inched towards the door, the man staring back at you with what looked like amusement, keeping his gaze on you as you passed by him and into the hallway. You weren’t sure where to go from here, but you were afraid to seem like you didn’t know what you were doing.
“Wrong way,” he called out when you were halfway down the hallway in your chosen direction. You flinched at his voice, turning around and sheepishly walking back in his direction as he chuckled.
“Down the hall and to the left,” he said as you passed by him.
You walked a little faster at his words, but followed his directions. You were too nervous to look back, and you hurried around the corner, feeling his eyes on you until you fully left his sight. You were grateful that there was one decent person in this place, but you wanted to be out of here as soon as possible.
The air outside the arena was stale, but welcome to your frazzled nerves. You walked among the crowd of exiting patrons, hoping that they wouldn’t take notice of you if you kept your head down. Luckily for you, it was a busy night of betting, and that’s all the crowd around you could talk about. You stuck close to a group of women that were discussing how attractive one of the fighters was until you were back on the main streets again. You were grateful for all the loud people on the streets, because nobody paid any attention to you as you took only well-lit paths back to Inora’s home, eyes flitting around as you kept watch for any more goons in your way. You weren’t sure what the man had meant when he told you that he had dealt with your kidnappers, but if they were out on the streets, then you needed to be off of them as soon as you could be.
Inora was in her favorite chair by the front door as you unlocked the door and came in. She practically leapt from the chair, rushing over to you once she noticed your appearance. You hadn’t had a chance to look in a mirror, but you knew that your clothes were dirty and ripped, a patch of your shirt stained with your blood from the Noxian’s dagger. You must have looked awful, and would likely have bruises all over once you woke up tomorrow.
Inora sat you down and began to fuss over your injuries, washing your cuts and bandaging the worst of them as you told you what had happened to you.
“Those dirty kidnappers,” she growled. “They are a scourge on Navori!”
You didn’t want to make her any more stressed, so you shortened your summary of the fight and skipped to the part where the Vastayan man let you leave. Inora had only calmed down slightly, her protective nature setting in as she made you some dinner, despite your offers to help her. You sat patiently in your chair, hoping that being as calm as you could would keep her from acting on her threats to go down to the arena and give them a piece of her mind.
You had to beg her not to tell Ciorah about what had happened. Ciorah was a sweet lady who already worried too much about the dangers of the streets, and you didn’t want her constantly stressed with worry for you every time you left her home. Inora was reluctant, but understood why you wanted to keep the experience a secret from Ciorah. You were eventually allowed to go to bed after Inora had finished fussing over you, and you were so tired that you passed out almost immediately.
The next day, you were anxious to get out of the house and visit Ciorah. You had woken up in slight pain from bruises all over your body, but otherwise you were feeling better. Unlike you, however, Inora had woken up even more protective than the day before. She hadn’t let you do any glass work, stating that since you had used your powers to the extreme yesterday, using them today would be too much of a strain on you. You had tried to tell her that you felt fine, but no amount of convincing would lessen her worries. She barely let you make your own food, and you were trying to be patient, but felt like you were going a bit crazy with her constant hovering around you.
“…and if you’re still there when it gets dark, stay there and I’ll come get you,” Inora instructed you as you stood by the door, ready to leave for Ciorah’s home. She had been talking at you for several minutes now, and you decided to just let her talk until she got it all out. Only after agreeing to all of her conditions did she let you leave at last, and you took only busy streets to get to Ciorah’s house.
You had tried to wear enough clothing to cover all of your bruises and cuts, but you hadn’t worn a bag over your head, so Ciorah noticed the scrapes on your face and hands immediately. She fretted over you as she ushered you into her home, and you were immediately reminded of Inora, who had done the exact same thing. You gently refuted her worries, sitting down opposite her at her small table.
“I tripped and fell into a thorn bush,” you carefully stated your rehearsed lie. “I’m fine!”
You felt bad at just how easily Ciorah believed your lie, but you knew it had to be done. She didn’t need the extra stress, and you didn’t want to make her even more concerned about the ruffians at the pits. You bit down any urges to tell her the truth, covering up your guilt with a smile just as a knock came at the door.
You felt unease rise up within you as Ciorah excused herself to go to the door. The only person who had ever visited when you were here was Inora, and your mind began to race, trying to think of what to do if Inora was here to tell Ciorah tell truth. It seemed like you couldn’t escape the awkward conversation, and so you stared at the wall that was blocking your view of the entrance and tried to think of any possible way to explain to her why you had lied without damaging her trust in you. You thought you were doing her a favor, but now that your plan was backfiring majorly, you were feeling even worse.
You listened intently as Ciorah opened the door, waiting to hear Inora’s voice that you knew was coming. Instead, you heard a man’s voice, and an excited coo from Ciorah, which derailed your train of thought entirely.
“Sorry I wasn’t here yesterday,” the male voice said. “The boss’s daughter was sick, so I did his share of work too.”
“I am just happy to see you, Settrigh,” Ciorah replied warmly.
As soon as you heard the name, you realized that it was Ciorah’s elusive son at the door. You admittedly could use the help in distracting Ciorah from your injuries, but more than anything you were interested in finally meeting the son that Ciorah often spoke so fondly of. You let a smile light your face in excitement as Ciorah came back into the room, and the large figure just behind her sent your heart racing.
You barely heard Ciorah introduce you to her son as you stared at him, eyes wide and skin feeling cold with dread. Settrigh stared back at you in shock, neither of you breaking your shared gaze until Ciorah asked her son if he would like some tea.
“Yes, ma,” Settrigh answered politely, and the blatant change in his personality from last night shocked you.
The calm didn’t last long, because as soon as Ciorah left the room to prepare the tea, Settrigh quickly crossed the room to get in your face, voice threatening despite being at whisper volume. “Did you tell her?”
“What?” you whispered back.
He glared at you, unamused by your lack of answer. “Did you tell my ma about what I do?”
“No!” you squeaked, backing away in fear. “I didn’t want to worry her… and besides, I didn’t know you were her son!”
“You better not be lyin’,” he threatened, and the implications of his words were clear. You say anything and he would do the same thing to you that he did to your kidnappers last night. You didn’t know what to do to get him to understand that he could trust you.
“Settrigh–” you tried to plead, but his growl shut you up.
“Sett,” he grunted. “Momma’s the only one who calls me Settrigh.”
“I… I’m sorry.” You didn’t know what else to say to abate his sudden anger.
He scoffed. “Relax, I’m not gonna hurt ya. Just remember that my momma don’t need to know what I really do.”
You nodded definitely too many times for it to look casual as Ciorah came back into the room with a tray of three teacups with a soft purple flower pattern dotting the rims. With Ciorah here, you felt a little safer than being left alone with him, and could take the time to examine him more closely. You sat back down at the table and tried to stifle a laugh at the sight of the heavily-muscled man sitting in a chair half as wide as he was and drinking from a dainty little teacup. Sett caught your nearly-silent giggle and frowned at you.
“Settrigh, do not grip the cup so hard!” Ciorah scolded him, and Sett hastened to apologize to his mother, his furry ears drooping down in a way you realized that you found cute. Such a fierce beast in his pit, but a tamed puppy in front of his mom.
As you sipped your tea, Ciorah fetched your newest figure from its position on a small stand and held it out to Sett, who took it to admire politely.
“She brings me these when she has extra materials,” Ciorah said proudly, smiling at you as she addressed her son. “I told you that she helps Aunt Inora?”
Sett stared at you like he was seeing you for the first time. “The Demacian girl…” he muttered to himself.
Ciorah had told him about you? You felt shy as you wondered exactly how much she had told him about your life. Other than Ciorah and Inora, nobody in Ionia knew your shameful history. You really shouldn’t care, but you felt shame at this man who had grown up with a loving mother knowing that you had travelled across a continent because your family didn’t want you. You tried to ration with yourself that you didn’t need his approval, didn’t need him to like you, but you found yourself longing for any connection with someone your own age. But you didn’t want to seem desperate, so you pushed your emotions away for now and chatted casually with Ciorah, too scared to talk directly to Sett and give him any more reasons to dislike you.
Watching him interact with his mother made you feel happy, but also empty and jealous. Eventually, you were content to just let them talk as you nursed your tea, sinking into thoughts you hadn’t allowed yourself to dwell on in a long time. Thoughts about your family, of how you’d never see them again unless you wanted to give yourself up for death as a Demacian fugitive. That even if you did, they would only ever see you as a black mark on their otherwise-perfect legacy.
You didn’t notice as a tear fell from your face and into your now-cold tea, but both sets of sensitive Vastayan ears perked up at the tiny sound it made. Only when Ciorah called your name did you realize that you were crying.
“Sorry!” you cried out, embarrassed at losing control of your emotions. You stumbled out of your seat, rushing towards the front door, not stopping at the calls of your name from Ciorah as you opened the door and rushed out into the street. You only slowed down when you reached an empty alleyway, wiping your face with your long sleeve as you cursed your own judgment. Less than a day after you had been kidnapped in an alleyway, and here you were being careless yet again.
“Hey!” a shout startled you as your upper arm was gripped firmly, and you looked over to see Sett looking sternly down at you. “What are you doing? You nearly gave ma a heart attack!”
You didn’t have the strength to pull your arm from his grip, and you looked at the ground as you answered. “…it’s nothing.”
“You think I’m stupid?” Sett growled. “Nobody cries without a reason. I understand if you don’t wanna tell me, but I don’t like it when ma worries.”
He wasn’t going to drop it, so you finally looked up at his face, surprised to see that he didn’t look as angry as his voice had sounded. He raised an eyebrow at you, which finally prompted you to talk.
“I don’t know how much Ciorah told you about me, but…” You struggled for words for a moment. “Seeing you two interact just made me miss my family back in Demacia. Which is stupid, because they didn’t want me the second they knew I had magic…”
“Savages,” Sett remarked darkly. “All ma told me ‘bout your past was that you came from Demacia, but after seein’ your magic, I’m not surprised you’re here. Those fools think they’re above lowly magic and then imprison any inconvenient mages that slip through the cracks of their lineage.”
You inhaled sharply, surprised at his words, and he released your arm at last, leaning back against the alley wall. “Besides the pits, ma’s all I got. My pa wanted money more than his family, so he ran off to be a big shot pit fighter in Noxus.”
“Sett…” you whispered, and he turned his sharp gaze to you, arms crossed in front of his chest.
“I don’t need your pity, fireball. As long as I have coin for ma, and keep my pit runnin’, I’m not worried about my pa. As long as he doesn’t show his face back in Navori, that is.”
“Sorry for running out,” you said quietly, feeling very embarrassed about your childish behavior.
“You don’t need to say that to me,” he said casually. “But you really worried ma.”
“I don’t know if I can face her now,” you admitted honestly.
Sett laughed. “She won’t be mad, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’ve gotten on her bad side before and you ain’t even close.”
Sett turned to leave the alleyway and you trailed just behind him. His legs were much longer than yours, but he was obviously slowing his stride to allow you to keep pace with him. You made sure that your eyes were dry when you arrived back at Ciorah’s house, and were embraced by her as soon as she saw you. Somehow, Sett silently standing nearby gave you the confidence to tell her what had upset you. She had held you very tightly, much more than you had thought capable of a woman of her small stature.
By the time she had gotten the full story out of you, the sun had begun to set. Remembering Inora’s warning, you reluctantly admitted that you should head back home.
“Settrigh will escort you home,” Ciorah said sweetly; her tone kind, but firm. You didn’t dare disagree, but you were surprised at how Sett immediately agreed to her request.
He was so clearly a momma’s boy. You felt bad for judging him so harshly upon first meeting him. Though that didn’t excuse him running the violent, thug-infested pits, but you forced yourself to take comfort in the fact that he seemed to only allow willing competitors to fight in matches. You realized that he had never explicitly told you what had been done to your kidnappers, and your fear of running into them on the streets again prompted you to ask him as you departed Ciorah’s home.
“Are they… dead?” you asked quietly, scared of what his answer would be.
Sett shrugged. “I didn’t kill them, if that’s what you’re asking. They’ve been banned from the pit, and encouraged to leave town.”
Your eyes widened in surprise. You were so sure that he had killed them. It was the pits, people died there all the time and nobody ever questioned it.
“Before you go thinkin’ I’m a saint, I did rough them up a bit,” he added. “Can’t have scumbags thinkin’ they can get around my rules.”
It was somewhat reassuring; you felt bad to be disappointed that they were still alive, but hopefully they wouldn’t be in any shape to try and get revenge. You didn’t want to experience any more violence; it was bad enough that you had killed someone, even though you had no choice. Silence dragged on as you walked alongside Sett until you were almost home.
“Y’know, if you ever get tired of Inora, I’m always lookin' for capable fighters,” he said, startling you out of your thoughts.
You stopped in your tracks, gaping at him as you tried to think of how to answer without offending him. He let out a bark of laughter as he stared back at you. “Sorry, city girl, just wanted to scare ya. You’re strong, but I know the pit fighter life ain’t for ya.”
He just said that to bug you? You had genuinely been worried that he would make you fight again! Fortunately, you didn’t have to wait long for revenge as Sett winced with a yelp as he was smacked in the back of the head by a strong hand.
“Settrigh!” Inora scolded. “You never visit anymore, and when I do see you, you’re out here picking on my apprentice!”
“Aunt Inora…” Sett greeted weakly.
She smacked him again. “I don’t tell your mother about your work and you repay me by allowing innocent girls to be forced to fight? What if she didn’t have powers and died!?”
“I’m sorry!” Sett yelped, before noticing you snickering at him again. “Hey!”
“I’ve ignored your seedy business long enough because you take care of Ciorah! You will apologize to this girl, not me!” she demanded.
Sett looked very defeated, and you were taking a bit too much joy out of watching the intimidating man be taken to task by a woman much older and smaller than him, though you would have to ask her how she knew that he ran the pit. He turned to face you with a grimace; he must have been used to her wrath if he folded so easily. Luckily, nobody was around at the moment to see his suffering but you and Inora.
“I’m sorry,” he said, sounding at least halfway sincere.
“Settrigh…” Inora warned, but you couldn’t help but jump in on his misery.
“I’ll forgive you if you let me pet your ears!” you teased him.
“What?” he snarled. “I’m not a–”
“Settrigh!” Inora scolded him with a smack to his biceps. “She’s being a lot nicer than your mother would be if she knew what you did to the poor girl!”
Sett growled, his eyes telling you that he would get you back for making him submit to your request. But you were having too much fun with the large half-Vastayan man and reached a hand up as he bent down to allow you to reach his furred ears. To your glee, they were incredibly soft. You ran your hand along the silken fur until a quiet noise from Sett stilled your hand as you looked back down at his face to see a flush to his skin that wasn’t there before. When he noticed you staring at him, he swatted your hand away at last, muttering something to himself and brushing past you to walk in the direction you had come from without another word.
“That boy is so predictable,” Inora mused as you followed her inside.
“You knew he ran the pit?” you couldn’t help but ask.
“It was hard for him when his father left,” Inora answered. “Hard for Ciorah too. People feared his father, so they were accepted, but they were not liked. After his father left, they no longer tolerated Settrigh. He had no choice but to grow up too soon.”
He had mentioned his father had left, but you didn’t realize he had been bullied. You weren’t sure what to say, so you said nothing and let Inora continue to talk.
“He used to get in fights all the time. Kids would say things to him about his mother and it would upset him. He grew up eventually, but I suspected he hadn’t really stopped fighting. I asked around and found out that he had taken over the pit,” she explained.
“And you didn’t tell Ciorah?” you wondered aloud.
She shook her head. “He begged me not to. With his money, she did not have to work gruelling jobs to support them anymore. I hate to admit it, but this way, Ciorah is safe and healthy. She struggled for a long time after we were forced to leave our tribe, and all Settrigh wants is his mother’s happiness.”
“I can see that,” you agreed. “I was really scared of him yesterday, but after seeing him act like an obedient puppy with you and Ciorah…” You couldn’t help but laugh as you recalled him being bossed around by the women.
“He’s a good son,” Inora assented. “I admit that maybe I went a little far with the ear pats.”
She noted your confusion and giggled. “Vastayan ears are more sensitive than human ears, and Settrigh’s even more than average. His mother used to pet his ears to calm him down when other kids would tease him.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean to–” you started, but silenced you by waving off your concerns with a smile.
“He hasn’t come by in so long, so he deserved a little teasing as my revenge!” she joked. “He needs a break from being a big scary pit boss occasionally!”
“You’ve been distracted lately,” Ryo told Sett bluntly. Other men in his pit would be too afraid of insulting the pit boss to talk to him like that, but Ryo knew that Sett trusted him, and liked to think of himself as the closest thing the Vastayan brute had to a friend. They did not see each other outside of the pit, but they both spent so much time there that it didn’t matter.
Neither one of the men pulled punches with each other, and Sett’s personality change had not gone unnoticed by Ryo. He knew that it had started sometime around when they had dealt with those woman-nappers, but Ryo hadn’t been able to pinpoint what had changed his friend. Sett was as focussed on the coin as ever, but Ryo had caught him lost in thought much more often over the past month. Sett, however, kept his thoughts stubbornly hidden, no matter how hard Ryo tried to pull the secrets from him.
“Caiyana finally make you an offer you couldn’t refuse?” Ryo teased, knowing that there was no chance that Sett would answer in the affirmative. Caiyana, the deadly assassin-turned-pit fighter had her keen eye on Sett since she found her way to the pits. Sett had been cordial, even friendly to her, but Ryo knew the boss well enough to tell that he maintained a professional distance from the beautiful murderess, as much as a pit boss could be called professional.
Sett scoffed. “That woman ain’t into anythin' but Noxian gold.”
“Then you two have a lot in common,” Ryo replied dryly. Sett was blind if he thought Caiyana wouldn’t give up her booking fee for the night if it meant that she could jump the boss’s bones.
Ryo allowed silence to overtake the room as they double and then triple checked the coin count from the night’s lost bets. Ryo focussed his attention on organizing the coins, until everything was all set in its rightful place and Sett had no business to use as an excuse to not answer his friend, so Ryo tried again.
“I’m not stupid, Sett,” Ryo said smoothly. “If not Caiyana, you’ve got someone on your mind. You’re not smooth enough to hide your schoolboy crush from my eyes.”
“You wanna say that again?” Sett growled, and Ryo was confident that Sett prized the bag of coins in his grip too much to throw it at his head for that comment.
Ryo had always liked to get the last word with his burly friend, so he stood up with his modest cut of the night’s profits, sauntering to the door with confidence. “Bring her around sometime. I want to meet the woman that puts up with a momma’s boy like you.”
Sett noticed that people in the streets gave him a wider berth than usual, and he figured he must look as pissed as he felt. He valued his friend’s honesty and loyalty, but Ryo really loved pushing his buttons. They liked to bug each other often, but Sett hadn’t expected Ryo to bring up his love life, non-existent as it was.
Sett had never had flings with women, even after his rise to popularity within the dregs of Ionian society. When his father was still here, nobody really talked to him out of fear. But after the scumbag had run off on them, all hell had broken loose. No girl would look at the fatherless half-breed bastard with anything but scorn in their eyes. And then he had grown some muscles and taken over the pit and only then women became eager to throw themselves at him. He could see through their flattery as if they were made of glass; he wasn’t egotistical enough to believe these women truly had any interest in any part of him other than his prestige and his wallet. They liked the pretty package, but would balk if they got a look inside his damaged soul. None of these women had any time to waste on a bastard with thinly-veiled daddy issues.
He wasn’t about to tell Ryo, but he did have more than the pit to think about as of late. He had run into you a lot lately when he visited his momma in the daytime. He hadn’t noticed it himself, but he had begun to expect you to be there when he stopped by. The last time he had been by to bring ma some more coin, he found himself looking at your usual chair as he entered the home. Ma had noticed immediately, informing him that you were out making deliveries. Sett couldn’t pretend he wasn’t looking for you, but he bristled at his momma’s next sly comment about you being unattached. It seemed that his pensive mood had followed him into the pit, and it annoyed the hell outta him.
Sett didn’t have a crush. He wasn’t a boy anymore, nor an awkward teenager. He had never bothered with women, not unless it benefitted his pit. He was annoyed with himself for wanting to be around you. But he wasn’t about to trust Ryo with that information and open himself up for his friend’s teasing. The pit would be closed for cleaning the next day; it had been a bloodier week than usual, but Sett would welcome the time off so he could have more time to spend with his momma.
You had been too busy to see Ciorah lately, and by extension Sett as well, since you only ever saw him at his mother’s house. A rich collector had come upon your work, and had been commissioning you and Inora to make him various glassworks, which on top of your usual amount of work made you so busy that you had no time for anything else. The worst part being that the collector was sleazy; he insisted that you deliver the finished pieces, and would then make various excuses to keep you in his home as long as possible. You had wanted to tell Inora, but the man had been paying you well, money you knew would really help Inora at the moment, so you put up with it. You had survived the pit and the journey across the Noxian sea, you could take one so-far harmless creep.
You had just finished delivering another sculpture, following the man around his house until he finally decided where the perfect place for his new glasswork would be. You had hoped that would be the end of it, that he would for once have mercy on you and let you leave, but it was never that easy with this guy. You had been standing outside of his house, trying to excuse yourself for around twenty minutes as he continued to ignore your excuses and talk over you.
“…I do paint sometimes, you know. You should come model for me, you’re beautiful enough. I’ve always wanted to paint a nude model in a field of flowers. You’d be very happy as my model, happier than dirtying yourself with glass dust,” he rambled.
“I… I don’t…” You weren’t sure how to refuse him without losing his business; he had never been this bold with his creepiness before. “I like my work…”
“You can’t possibly think you’ll get anywhere in life working in that tiny shop,” he said, and you bit your lip in frustration at his patronizing tone. You needed to get out of here before you really lost it on him.
“You’ve got such a beautiful body,” he drawled, either oblivious or uncaring as to how hard you were trying to exit this conversation. “Your breasts were made to be painted–”
He was startled out of his speech by a large hand on his shoulder. You gasped in surprise, relief coloring your cheeks with warmth as you saw Sett right behind him. You hadn’t even seen him coming. The creep had an entirely different reaction as he stumbled away from the very angry half-Vastayan. The collector fell backwards in his urgency to get away from Sett, falling onto his butt in shock, but still had the nerve to speak.
“Y-you beast! Beasts like you don’t belong in the presence of civilized folk!” he bellowed, pointing an accusing finger at Sett, who lifted an eyebrow, his gaze still sharp and angry.
“You gonna apologize?” Sett growled lowly.
“Apologize?!” the man screeched. “Why should I apologize when you’re the one harassing civilians?”
“To her,” was Sett’s reply as he stared the man down. “That ain’t how ya talk to women half your age.”
“Excuse me?” the man exclaimed, getting red in the face from all the shouting he had been doing. “Mutts like you need to mind their own business!”
Sett’s eyes flashed dangerously at the insult, and your gaze flickered down to his fingers as he flexed them in what you assumed meant that this was going to get ugly. You quickly grabbed the hand closest to you before Sett could reply, and after a moment’s resistance, he allowed you to drag him away from the flustered man who was still on the floor.
“Thank you for your patronage!” you called out in the sweetest tone you could manage as you turned the corner, leaving the creep to cower and sputter on the ground.
“Sett, what were you…?” you queried him as soon as you got what you hoped was a good distance away from the creepy collector’s home.
“Ma needed more milk,” he answered, holding up a small woven bag that you hadn’t noticed that he had been carrying.
“Oh…” you replied stiffly, feeling awkward as you noticed that you were both still holding hands.
Sett looked down at you sternly, and you weren’t sure if he was aware of your joined hands or not. “You shouldn’t let people treat ya like that. Who knows what that bastard would’ve done if I hadn’t stepped in.”
“I know,” you groaned. “He buys a lot from us and Inora really needed the money to replace a torch I broke by accident…”
“Inora wouldn’t take his money if she knew what he was sayin’ to you,” Sett retorted darkly. “No coin is worth a woman bein’ treated like that.”
For such a big, intimidating guy, he sure was sweet to you lately. Sett took you out of your thoughts, tugging your hand to get you to follow him down a familiar path.
“Ciorah’s house isn’t…” you protested in confusion, but Sett’s steps didn’t falter.
“We’ll get there,” he replied. “But first we’re gonna go explain to Inora why you won’t be goin’ on deliveries to that freak anymore.”
You couldn’t bring yourself to protest; after that escalation in creepy behavior, you didn’t want to be anywhere near that guy ever again. You couldn’t help but feel like you were letting Inora down; the creepy guy was the most profitable client in a long time. But there was not a high likelihood that he would be commissioning you in the future after Sett had nearly beat him up. You followed him back home, finding Inora in the workshop finalizing a piece that would go to a sweet older lady who bought works from you for her grandchildren.
“How was–” Inora greeted you before noticing your companion. “Settrigh?”
“She didn’t wanna tell you, but that old creep has been flirtin’ with her,” Sett explained while you awkwardly fiddled with your fingers just behind him.
“What?” Inora gaped. “I knew he had been ordering a lot of pieces, but I never thought…”
Sett nudged you forward, and you figured you should tell her the truth. “Sorry I didn’t tell you… normally he just rambles stories at me and stands too close, but today, he…”
It was too weird for you to say out loud, but Sett didn’t have the same reservations. “The bastard was tryin’ to convince her to model naked for him.”
“He what!?” Inora snarled. “If I could get my claws on him…”
“I was tryin’ to, but she stopped me,” Sett replied, gesturing to you with a jerk of his head.
“Sett!” you scolded him, but Inora barked out a laugh.
“For once, I approve of your violent streak!” she grinned.
You knew they weren’t biologically related, but you couldn’t help but note how familial their bond was. Inora was more outwardly tough than Ciorah, but both women fit so well into Sett’s life.
“Ma’s waitin’ on me to bring her milk,” Sett changed the subject with a sly smirk. “Gonna take her with me so she doesn’t run back to her boyfriend!”
You gaped at Sett, him and Inora laughing at the disgusted look on your face. “I would never–”
“Relax, princess,” Sett snickered. “I’ll protect ya from him.”
You lost all will to argue, his words flustering you into silence. You couldn’t tell if his tone was flirty or not, but the sudden nickname made you blush. Sett seemed oblivious, but you met eyes with Inora, who smiled knowingly at you, and you quickly looked down at your feet.
“You can take her with you, but you’ve gotta promise me you’ll punch that asshole if you see him again!” Inora joked.
“Can do,” Sett answered affirmatively.
“Don’t be too late!” Inora added, winking at you in a manner that left you no room to doubt what she was really saying. You were relieved that Sett had already turned to the door and had missed her wink altogether.
You still weren’t sure why he was insistent on bringing you along, but it had been a while since you had seen him and you had missed the big brute. You followed Sett out of the front door, waving goodbye to Inora as you emerged back onto the early afternoon streets of Navori.
“…how is the pit?” you asked, wanting to say something but couldn’t think of any interests of his besides his mom and his work in your flustered state.
“’s good,” he answered with a chuckle. “Didn’t think you wanted to hear about the pit.”
What could you even say to that? That you just wanted to talk with him and weren’t sure what else to say?
“I…” you trailed off as you entered the streets that made up the marketplace that led to Ciorah’s home.
“I told you I won’t make ya fight,” Sett laughed. “The pit is a place for degenerates like me, not little mages.”
“You’re not a degenerate,” you refuted softly. “If you hadn’t saved me, I would probably still be with those kidnappers.”
Sett scoffed as you both turned onto the street that Ciorah’s house was on. “With your firepower, they didn’t stand a chance in a fight with you.”
You just stared at him, dumbfounded by his confidence in you. You still weren’t sure how you had beat the Noxian in the pit, but it was a weird feeling to have someone who brawled for a living complimenting you on your combat prowess, however little you felt that you possessed anyways. Maybe you should start having more confidence in yourself; he had certainly given you something to think about. Sett knocked on Ciorah’s door as you stepped onto the landing by his side. You felt a sudden onset of emotion as you reflected further on what a good thing it had been for your life for you to meet Sett.
“Hey… are you cryin’?” Sett said, looking panicked.
Before you could answer, Ciorah opened the door to see you wiping away the small tears that had developed in your eyes. Sett looked infinitely more panicked as his eyes darted from you to his mother, and you watched as her eyes narrowed as she looked at the scene in front of her.
“Settrigh!” she scowled. “What did you say to her?”
Sett’s eyes widened in panic at his mother’s ire, an ear in her grasp before he could think to pull away. You quickly followed them into the house, shutting the door behind you.
“It ain’t like that, ma! She just started cryin’!” Sett protested.
“I raised you to be kind to women, Settrigh,” Ciorah replied sternly.
“He didn’t do anything, I promise!” you corrected Ciorah’s impression the best you could, trying not to laugh as Sett rubbed his sore ear when Ciorah released it upon hearing your words. “I was just thinking about… how nice Sett has been to me and I teared up.”
You were embarrassed to have to be so honest, especially since Sett was now staring at you with a look in his eyes you couldn’t read. Ciorah finally abandoned scolding her son to give you a tight hug, which only served to make you feel more embarrassed. You had never cried this often back in Demacia, but that was hardly unusual for Demacia. There was always a high importance placed on being proper and not embarrassing your family. You had grown up with the notion that it was normal to keep emotions – even happiness – out of the public sphere and away from troubling anyone. Thinking back, you realized that you had never even seen your parents cry. Ever.
The only emotions they displayed often were fear and anger. You knew now that was how they kept Demacians in line. By making them fear mages like you that just wanted to be accepted in their twisted society, by making families turn on their kin because of powers they could not help. Ionia was not free of cruelty, but you would never have the entire island turn against you just for using your powers. All of the people you were close to here openly embraced you, powers and all. You would never go back to Demacia as long as you lived; Navori was your permanent home as far as you were concerned.
Ciorah happily accepted the milk that she had sent her son to buy, insisting that you both stay for dinner. You chopped vegetables with Sett while Ciorah oversaw the stew that was simmering. You were having fun, other than Sett dangling cut onions in your face, which made you tear up yet again, Ciorah smacking his shoulder when he teased you for crying. You hadn’t had so much fun in a long time, just sitting around the table with them and chatting as you ate, which was only made sweeter by the fact that you didn’t have to put up with that creepy customer’s behavior anymore. It definitely felt like too soon when it was time to head back home, and this time Sett offered to walk you home without Ciorah’s prompting.
“I’ll see you again soon,” Ciorah told you warmly, giving you a hug.
You stepped back from her and Sett quickly took your place, giving her a kiss on the cheek as she wrapped her arms as far around his broad back as she could reach.
“Love you, ma,” Sett told her.
“And I love you, Settrigh,” Ciorah replied in kind. “Stay safe.”
“Are you going to the pit now?” you asked him as Ciorah closed the door and you both exited her hearing range.
“No need,” he answered. “I can trust those knuckleheads by themselves for one night.”
“If you say so,” you answered in a singsong tone.
Sett playfully raised an eyebrow. “Ya know the pit ain’t all I ever think about.”
You weren’t sure if you were reading too much into his words, and the glint in his eyes. You were paranoid that you were over-analyzing what wasn’t romantic intentions on his side. But no matter what you did, you couldn’t help but hope that Sett would make a move, because you just didn’t have the confidence.
You decided that it would be worth a try to see if you could fish any more information out of him. “So, what else do you think–”
You would not finish your sentence as your arm was grasped roughly from behind, a hand clamping over your mouth and muffling your surprised cry.
Sett snarled and made to dash over to you, but a long, sharp blade to your neck had him pausing in his tracks, feral anger plain on his face. You still couldn’t see the man who held you captive, as any movement from you had him inch the blade closer to the flesh of your neck, and so you kept painfully still. Your situation fully illuminated on you when men began to trickle out of the shadows, including two ugly faces you remembered in detail, even a month later.
They looked even more rough than the night they had kidnapped you. It seemed like Sett’s lesson hadn’t gotten through to them as they closed in on you alongside a dozen or so men who looked just as intimidating.
“Let her go,” Sett snarled, and the venom in his tone shocked you cold, but unfortunately did not have the same effect on the group of men.
“You won’t protect your bitch this time, half breed,” the taller kidnapper sneered to supportive chuckles and jeers from the rest of the group of men.
“Navori is tired of your iron fist,” the other kidnapper added tauntingly. “So we’re gonna do the pit a favor and make sure you never step foot in it again.”
“You can try!” Sett growled, muscles flexing dangerously.
“Fightin’ fair just ain’t in the cards anymore,” the tall man replied, and before Sett had time to react, one of the men dashed forward and threw a sickly yellow powder in Sett’s face, which had him fall to his knees coughing and breathing heavily before he collapsed on the ground. The hand on your mouth tightened as you screamed and struggled. All your struggles did was draw the attention of the men back to you.
“Poor girl,” one man drawled. “About to watch her boyfriend die.”
Your eyes widened, heart beating overtime as you watched the men begin to crowd around Sett’s unconscious body. What had they thrown on him? Ionia definitely had its own drug trade, but you had no knowledge of what the yellow powder could be. But as you watched the men brandish weapons of all sort, you realized that the drug must have been a means to an end. A knockout drug strong enough to render even the large half-Vastayan unconscious. Sett was defenseless, and showed no signs of waking up despite your mental pleas.
“She’s gonna cry,” one of the men articulated with a cruel laugh.
“With him gone, she’s gonna be real lonely!” another man jeered.
“Not for long,” the tall man sneered. “She’s got a big debt to pay us, so we got first dibs. You all can have what’s left.”
You couldn’t lose Sett. You could barely hear what they were saying around you, eyes locked on the gleaming silver of their weapons as they raised them in unison to strike at the downed man you cared so much for. You didn’t wait a moment, because Sett didn’t have a moment to spare if you were going to save his life. The thugs were gleefully unaware, and even the cry of pain from their buddy that held you captive was too late of a warning to save them from your desperate fury.
Your fire reached an inferno in a split second, and the man who held you captive fell back as every part of him that was in close contact with you broke out in burns so hot that this skin bubbled and peeled right off. His last scream would come too late for his friends as you rushed at them, your hair whipping around your face as you slammed into them with the force of an erupting volcano. Your intense fire melted their flesh as you came close, their cries of agony a chorus you were all too happy to hear.
You knew that your kidnappers had been in the mass of men that stood around Sett, but in your fury, you did not see their faces. You did not watch their expressions as they melted away to nothing; they were dead, and not worth any more of your attention. In seconds, you had wiped out every last one. You stood before the ruined men, chest heaving, as you finally came back to yourself and realized that Sett too had been in the center of your inferno.
Shaking your head to clear yourself of your murderous focus, you dropped to your knees beside Sett, who you immediately realized looked completely fine. He had been in the middle of your fiery wrath, but he had not so much as a burn on him anywhere. The only sign that your powers had affected him at all was the slightest beads of sweat on his forehead. How could he be okay? Your fire never hurt you, but this was all-new territory for you.
“Sett!” you cried, placing your hands on either side of his face, tears dripping down your face and onto his jacket. “Sett, please –”
“’s warm.”
His whisper was almost too quiet for you to hear, but his eyes opening ever so slowly confirmed that you hadn’t been hearing things. Sett slowly sat up, rolling his shoulders. He grunted at the impact as you buried your face in his chest, and he slowly sat back up, placing a hand on your back.
“…should go,” he muttered, and you pulled back to look at his face. He clumsily pushed some hair out of your face as you noticed his pupils looked dilated. “We should… we should go,” he slurred.
“Are you… drunk?” you ventured a guess, and he smirked lazily, leaning in to nibble on your neck, which sent a blush to your face and a shiver down your back.
“Nah,” he answered, and you didn’t believe him for a second.
“Can you stand?” you asked him, and he only answered when you backed away from him until he couldn’t kiss at your neck anymore.
He scoffed, lifting himself up a little too fast, his drugged state putting him off balance. You quickly got up as well, grabbing hold of him before he fell over and slinging his arm over your shoulder. Ciorah’s home was close, but you knew that Sett wouldn’t want her to see him in this state.
“Sett, where do you live?” you asked, hoping he would have the mental facilities to properly answer you.
He stared at you intensely for a few seconds before sighing and beginning to walk, forcing you to keep up with him so neither of you would fall over. You were thankful that he just led you silently; you weren’t sure if you could take any more of his drunken flirting. You let him lead you, surprised when you bypassed the wealthy district entirely; you had just assumed that with all the money he made, Sett would live in the most expensive part of town.
The neighborhood Sett finally led you to was one you hadn’t seen before. It was very quiet, only a few people walking around, none of which even bat an eye at you supporting the large pit boss as you walked by. You wondered what kind of a place this was for the sight of the two of you to not be out of the ordinary.
Sett led you up a stony walkway to a very modest home, and you let him off of your shoulder at last so he could lean on the wall and fish his keys out of his pants’ pocket. When he finally managed to retrieve the small silver key, you took it from him. If the walk here was any indication, his coordination was not the best right now. You unlocked the door with ease, and Sett sauntered in, you quickly following behind him and locking the door.
You had clearly underestimated Sett’s recovery time, because as soon as you turned around after hearing the click of the lock, Sett caged you against the door with his body. You stared wide-eyed at the predatory smirk on his face, giving you nowhere to run. You couldn’t tell if this was his true feelings spilling out or if it was the drug. You knew which one you hoped it was, but you couldn’t take advantage of him in this state, not when he could do something he would regret if he weren’t under the influence of the weird powder.
“Sett, you should rest…” you protested, pressing your shaky palms on his chest, ready to push him away if you needed to.
“Nah,” he purred with a grin. “I think I’m good right here.”
“But I don’t know what they gave you, it could be–”
“Stop talkin',” he grunted, and it was all the warning you got before he crushed his lips into yours.
You gasped in surprise, and he didn’t waste the opportunity, sticking his tongue in your mouth and playing with your own. Your fingers gripped at the fur of his long jacket, breaking away from the kiss with a moan when his hands moved down to your hips, pulling your lower body closer to his, a rapidly hardening part of his anatomy brushing obviously against you with the motion. Sett chased your lips, kissing you breathless several times over as you tried desperately to keep up with the rough pace he had set.
You still couldn’t believe this was happening, but you were starting to feel more comfortable kissing him. You wanted him to be as wrecked as you were, and so you did the only thing you could think of that might fluster him and grabbed one of his ears, rubbing it between your fingers. Sett didn’t stop kissing you, but groaned against your mouth. A few more seconds of you repeating the motion had him finally break away from your mouth, and you stared at his beautiful golden eyes as he opened them at last. You were breathing heavily as you watched his gaze trail down your body. You realized that you had once again singed your clothing with your earlier outburst, your top a lot more low-cut than it had been when you had left Ciorah’s home, the singed edges of the fabric hovering at the tops of your breasts.
“Hold on!” Sett grinned.
You stared at him, confused by the mischief in his eyes. Sett wasted no time, his strong arms going around your back and under your thighs as he lifted you into a princess carry. You squeaked in surprise, holding your hands at your chest, unsure of what to do with them.
“Doubt I’ll get tired of this,” Sett remarked, turning around and heading down the hallway. “Last chance to back out, princess.”
He was really testing your newfound commitment to honesty. Your face burned with embarrassment and shame, so you buried your face in his chest as you murmured your answer. “…I don’t want to back out.”
Sett laughed, the vibrations from his chest against your ear as he pushed open a door with his shoulder. You brought your head back up to look upon a rather modest bedroom. The room was dim with the day’s waning light coming through the window, illuminating the large bed that sat in the center of the room. You weren’t given a further chance to examine his bedroom as you were laid on the bed, staring at Sett as he stood just to the side.
“Hope you’re ready, baby,” Sett purred, unlatching his gauntlets and letting them drop to the floor as he shucked his shoes off. “I don’t do anythin’ half-assed.”
You sat up on the bed, figuring you probably shouldn’t be wearing shoes in his nice bed, reaching down and gently removing them and setting them on the floor as Sett removed his jacket. Sett rolled his shoulders back as he stared down at you, unashamed by his own partial nudity as usual.
You had no time to feel self-conscious as Sett was on you again, hand fisting through your hair to angle your mouth against his better. You kissed him back with everything you had, but his efforts overwhelmed you and it was all you could do to grasp at his neck and thread your tongue with his. You wrapped a leg around his hip, and he happily ground his pelvis into yours. You cried out as the bulge there hit against you in just the right spot to send a spark through your body. Sett pulled back, golden eyes dark as he combed a hand through his hair.
“I want you bad, princess,” he growled.
“Sett, I–” you tried to answer him, but then his thick fingers were slipping beneath the skirt you wore and past your underwear to rub at a spot that had you squirming and moaning as Sett stared down at you proudly.
“Betcha never had this in Demacia,” Sett growled as his fingers moved from your clit to push a finger inside you. “At least those jackasses did something right when they drove you to Navori.”
You couldn’t reply, could only moan his name and weakly grip at his arm as he pushed another finger inside you, the pad of his thumb brushing against your clit as he continued fingering you.
“Sett, please–”
“Can’t wait any longer, baby?” he taunted, and you glared at him to the best of your lust-addled ability.
“Fine,” he sighed. “I can’t deny ya anythin’ when you look at me like that.”
Sett rolled over so that he sat at the edge of the bed, licking his wet fingers clean while staring at you haughtily. Standing up from the bed, he peeled his tight pants off of his legs, and you were flustered anew to discover that he hadn’t been wearing any underwear. You couldn’t help but stare at his cock, which looked rock hard as it jutted out proudly from his pelvis.
Sett easily caught you staring, his eyes raking over your still-clothed body. “You need some help?”
You felt overcome with a burst of shyness at what was about to happen. Sett climbed back onto the bed, and you blushed as his cock brushed against your hip. Sett noticed how stiff you were, leaning in to give you short, soft kisses until he felt you visibly relax.
“C’mon,” he prompted. “’s only fair I get you naked too. Been thinkin’ about this since ya melted those thugs.”
“What?” you replied.
“Came to as you torched ‘em,” Sett answered, nuzzling against your neck, mouth at your ear as his hand crept to the bottom of your shirt. “You have no clue how hot you look when you fight.”
Sett’s fingers gripped the hem of your shirt, and you lifted your arms to help him take it off of you. Your shirt was made of thicker material than you usually wore, so you hadn’t worn a bra underneath. Sett was very appreciative of that fact, palming your breasts with his large hands as he looked down at you with the hunger of a predator.
You were so worked up that you couldn’t wait any longer. You wiggled your hips, trying to shuffle your skirt down because Sett was so close that you couldn’t fit a hand between your lower bodies. Sett took pity on you, taking his hands off of your tits to help you shimmy your skirt and panties down and off. Your underwear was feeling a little too damp, so it was a relief to have them off at last.
“No shame if ya need to claw my back up,” Sett teased as he lined himself up with you. “I know I’m a lot to take.”
You frowned at him; there was no limit to his self-confidence, was there? Your irritation only seemed to further bolster him as he grinned happily. You couldn’t even stay mad at him; he was such an overgrown puppy. You hated that all of his quirks just made you more infatuated with him. You would have to rub his ears again and take him down a peg.
But Sett would make the first move, as always. He grasped his cock, holding your gaze as he began to ease himself into you. You closed your eyes, nails digging into your palms as you adjusted to the feeling. He went slow, inching in further and further until your hips met, his legs on either side of yours.
You felt so full, and for all of his grandstanding, Sett wasn’t doing much better. He let out a low groan, moving his hands to either side of your face to keep himself from crushing you with his well-muscled body.
No more words were exchanged as Sett began to move his hips, dropping his lips from yours to nibble at your neck, his hair tickling your cheek. The position brought his furry ears closer to you, and the temptation proved too much and you reached up and pulled on his ears, and Sett’s hips snapped up to yours harder in surprise, the resulting feeling making you moan.
“Should’ve known you’d go for the ears again,” Sett growled.
“They’re so cute,” you replied, barely able to get the words out when Sett moved back to grab onto your thighs and encourage you to wrap them around his hips. He pushed back in, and it was all you could do to grip at his biceps as he got even more brutal with his pace, leaning down to kiss and bite at your breasts, the sensations only heightening the pleasure you felt.
You shut your eyes tightly as you felt your pleasure climb higher and higher, your unintentional clamping of vaginal muscles earning you a groan from Sett as he reached a hand down to rub at your clit as he chased his own end.
“Sett,” you moaned, opening your eyes to pull his face to yours so you could kiss him again.
You could only hold out a moment longer, the kiss getting slower as you reached your peak, your legs tightening around Sett’s waist and walls clamping down on his cock. Sett growled against your lips, slamming down into you a few more times before he stilled, parting from your lips to rest his forehead on yours, grinning like the cat that got the cream.
“I’d say that went pretty well,” Sett declared.
As the haze wore off, you began to wonder exactly what this meant to Sett. You had no knowledge at all of his romantic history, and so you didn’t know what to think.
You tried to sound confident, but your voice came out as a weak whisper. “Sett… what are we?”
He didn’t reply, but leaned down to kiss you. You frowned, dodging so that his lips landed on your cheek. If this was just a fling, he needed to tell you now. You wouldn’t let him avoid the question.
Sett’s eyes opened when he realized that you had moved your face. You gave him a hard look, and he returned it with a toothy grin and a laugh. You felt your heart drop; was he going to laugh at you for wanting more? Was this the last content moment that you would have with him before it all came crashing down?
“Don’t know why you’re even askin’,” Sett said, and you just stared at him, too scared to even breathe. “Ma likes ya… I like ya. You ain’t gettin’ away from me that easy.”
365 notes · View notes
kurokoros · 3 years
Text
spider lily | part one
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Rated: M (violence, language, etc)
Words: 7K
Pairing: kuroo x fem!reader/oc?
Summary: No one can outrun the past. Kuroo already knew that before he started bounty hunting. [cowboy bebop!au]
AN: Written for the @the-smut-pile​’s western!au collab. This is barely a western, but the word “cowboy” is used so it counts. This fic is going to be multiple parts. The romance doesn’t come in for a while, just a heads up. I’m sure there’s more I meant to say here, but my brain is mush. I wrote most of this in the last three days and need a nap lmao
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The dealer is watching him.
Eyes burn into his back as the bartender sets another glass of whiskey in front of Kuroo. In the mirror above the bar, Kuroo watches as one of the players, a middle-aged man with a cigar, requests another card. The dealer flips the card, revealing a Jack, and the man curses. A bust.
The dealer ignores the seething player, a look of boredom on his face. He’s thin, his hair parted to the right. Early twenties at best, but his eyes are tired and apathetic as they start to wander around the room.
It’s subtle. The dealer’s gaze doesn’t linger on Kuroo for long—it almost doesn’t linger at all, a stutter in that smooth glance around the room. If he wasn’t waiting for it, he might have missed it. But Kuroo has been painfully obvious tonight, making a show out of staring in that mirror every time a new card is drawn before making his move. It was bound to catch someone’s attention eventually. He just thought it would be sooner.
Kuroo spins the blackjack chip in front of him. White and turquoise blur together as the piece of ceramic whirls around on its edge. Gold glints under the dim lights above him.
A waitress passes the blackjack table behind him. The dealer glances at her. His mouth moves. His chin dips towards the bar where Kuroo is sitting.
“Kuroo.” Static crackles in his ear. His fingers twitch, seizing around the still spinning poker chip. It comes to an abrupt halt. Topples onto its side. With a sigh, he rests his elbow on the counter, props his chin up on his palm, and brings his drink to his mouth. “Anything?”
The whiskey burns in the back of his throat. “Not yet,” he says under his breath, glancing at the bartender to make sure he’s distracted. His fingers brush against the studs in his ear, following the steel bar attached to one of them until he reaches the attached earbud.
A disgruntled sound buzzes through the miniature speaker in his ear. “Then what are we wasting our time here for?” Tsukishima demands. The words aren’t minced, irritation mixed with his typical haughty tone.
“Getting bored out there, Kei?” Kuroo asks the younger man, keeping his tone light and amused. He specifically uses his first name, goading him. “I told you to come inside earlier. You still can. Unless you’d prefer to sit in the ship and sulk.” He takes another drink. “Besides, haven’t I told you to be patient?”
Tsukishima is silent on the other end.
The lapse in conversation stretches out. Kuroo’s gaze trails away from the card table behind him as he seeks out the rest of his crew in the reflection of the mirror over the bar. They’re still waiting where he left them, on opposite sides of the gambling floor. Akaashi is tucked close to the back wall, nursing his own drink and casually watching a game of poker, making no move to play himself like Kuroo has in the hour they’ve been here already. On the other end of the room, Bokuto is eyeing one of the card tables, starting to wander away from the slot machines and naturally gravitate towards the center of the room where a larger game of poker is being played. The prize pool has been steadily growing, attracting more attention as the night wears on.
They just have to wait a little longer for their target to show.
Eventually, Tsukishima huffs. “How do you even know Ikeda will be here tonight? He’s running. There’s no point in going to a high-traffic casino.”
Kuroo’s eyes narrow at the snappish tone, but he decides to let it slide for now. “Source said he’s headed this way,” he reminds Tsukishima. “You don’t come this close to Titan without stopping by Blue Castle. Not with a pool like that on the line.” He glances at the table Bokuto has been eyeing. “It’s up to a couple hundred grand already. He’s desperate for cash. Places like this don’t ask questions. Don’t give a shit so long as the house keeps winning.”
“And if you’re wrong?”
He shrugs, gaze wandering away from Bokuto. “Guess we’re fucked for a while.”
Tsukishima snorts. “How reassuring.”
Movement catches Kuroo’s eye in the corner of the mirror before he can ready a retort. There’s a man with dark hair shoving his way through the crowd of people gathered on the gambling floor. No, not shoving. The crowd is parting for him, scurrying out of his way as he storms across the room. Expression set in a scowl. A scowl that’s locked on Kuroo’s back.
Right on time.
He drops his hand from his face, sitting up straighter on the stool as the man comes closer. “Seems like security is finally coming to get me,” he tells Tsukishima off-handedly, abruptly ending the conversation. “Oh, and tell Kou to stop eyeing that table. His poker face is shit.”
Tsukishima pauses, like he wants to ask Kuroo what he’s talking about, but decides it’s simply not worth the effort. A grumbled response eventually comes over the radio, but Kuroo has already stopped listening. Low static buzzes in his ear as Tsukishima switches channels on his headset.
For once, he’s glad for Tsukishima’s lack of interest, though it isn’t bound to last long.
Kuroo grins into his drink as the man drops onto the stool beside him not a moment later. “About time someone got you, Iwa.” He tilts his head to the side, lazy gaze meeting a familiar stern expression. Green eyes glare back at him, and his smile widens. “I was about to bring the house down.”
A snort. “Like hell I’d let you walk away with that much,” Iwaizumi tells him. The tension in his clenched jaw loosens, but the scowl stays, and it doesn’t make him look any less disheveled. His clothes are rumpled. Shirt buttoned haphazardly; the sleeves rolled up. Iwaizumi jerks his chin towards the chip Kuroo has gone back to idly toying with in his free hand. “What are you up to anyway? Hundred thousand?”
He leans forward to look past Kuroo and braces his elbows on the counter, gesturing to catch the bartender’s attention.
“Two,” Kuroo corrects, glancing at his acquaintance. “What can I say? I’ve always had good luck.”
That gets him a chuckle. Though, it’s more disbelieving than amused. “Bullshit.” Iwaizumi shakes his head. A faint smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Counting cards doesn’t make you lucky.”
Kuroo shrugs, a wicked glint in his gold eyes. “Not getting caught does.”
The corner of Iwaizumi’s mouth twitches. “Yeah? How’d that work out tonight?”
“I’m still winning.”
The bartender places a drink down in front of Iwaizumi without a word, though he hesitates on the other side of the bar. A curious gaze strays towards Kuroo. The young man flinches when gold eyes snap up to meet his.
“On the rocks?” Kuroo comments as the bartender is called away by another patron. He watches the man leave, aware of the gazes lingering on him now that Iwaizumi is here. Bokuto must have mentioned the other man’s presence to Tsukishima because that familiar buzzing sound vibrates in his ear. “Didn’t think you’d be one to drink on the job. What would he say about that?”
Iwaizumi rolls his eyes as he downs half the drink. The single ball of ice clinks against the edge of the glass. Kuroo watches it bob in the amber liquid. “I put up with his dumb ass twelve hours a day. He owes me this much.”
“That why you look like shit?” Kuroo asks, giving him another once-over. He smirks when he sees something he hadn’t noticed before. “That shade of red looks good on you, by the way.” He gestures to the lipstick stains half-hidden behind Iwaizumi’s collar, low on the side of his throat. “Sorry to interrupt whatever you were doing.”
“Piss off.” Iwaizumi glares at him, flustered. A flush starts to creep up his neck, but it doesn’t get under his skin the way Kuroo wants it to. They’ve known each other too long for that. “What are you doing here, Kuroo?”
He takes some satisfaction in how quickly Iwaizumi changes the subject. Pleasantries gone.
Flicking the rim of his glass, Kuroo wonders how much he should say right now, mindful of the audience listening. “Passing through,” he finally settles on, watching the ice in his own drink bob. He sends Iwaizumi a pointed look. “Hopefully, we won’t be here long.”
“We?” Iwaizumi repeats, eyes narrowing as he furrows his brow. It dawns on him a second later. “You’re here on a job. Fuck.”
The glare aimed at Kuroo doesn’t soften as he waves off Iwaizumi’s concern. “Nothing you need to worry about.”
“Tell him that,” Iwaizumi spits back at him. He leans back on his stool, rubbing his temple. “You’re lucky Kunimi sent the waitress to me and not Kyoutani.”
Tsukishima is silent over the headset, but Kuroo knows the younger man has been listening intently since he got back, just in case Kuroo slips up and says something he shouldn’t. But Kuroo has practice. There’s always someone listening.
Kuroo taps the blackjack chip on the bar counter, tracing the Blue Castle written across the coin in an elegant scrawl. “Blond guy in the back?” With a twist of his fingers, he sends the chip spinning again. “He’s been watching me since I walked in. Looks like he wants to kick my ass.”
“You’d deserve it.” Iwaizumi looks at Kuroo. “You gonna make this easy for me?”
The chip stops spinning and falls on its side with a quiet clatter. A turquoise crown is printed in the center.
“Why not?” Glancing in the mirror one last time, Kuroo makes eye contact with Akaashi. Static buzzes in his ear, the radio crackling again. Before Tsukishima can speak, Kuroo casually flicks the switch on his headset, silencing the static. He downs the rest of his drink and slides off the stool with a lazy stretch. “It’s been a while since I saw the Great King.”
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Iwaizumi leads him to the elevator.
Neither speak as they wait for it to reach the bottom floor. Kuroo takes a subtle glance around the room. The blond that Iwaizumi mentioned—Kyoutani—is still watching him. So are Akaashi and Bokuto, who have strayed from their positions closer to the door. While Bokuto seems more confused than concerned, there’s an uneasy look on Akaashi’s face. His mouth moves as he speaks to Tsukishima over his earpiece. Kuroo doesn’t bother trying to read his lips.
The ding of the elevator draws Kuroo’s attention back to Iwaizumi, who waits for him to enter the box first.
It’s been a while since Kuroo has been in Blue Castle, but as his gaze roams the panels of heavy glass surrounding the box, he figures not much has changed. The elevator juts from the main building. Three walls made of Saturn glass that reflect the neon lights from streets below. The doors slide shut as Iwaizumi follows him inside, and Kuroo leans against the wall, head tilted back. The ceiling is made of glass too.
From here, he can just barely see the stars.
Iwaizumi fishes a set of keys from his pocket. Thumbing through them, he stops when he finds the one he’s looking for: small and silver, a crown etched onto the side. The key slots into a lock at the bottom of the button panel, and the button for the fourth floor glows blue when Iwaizumi turns it.
Kuroo glances at the other man as the elevator starts to move, hands casually slipping into the pockets of his suit jacket. “Is there going to be a gun pointed at my head when I get to the top floor?”
“No promises,” Iwaizumi says, leaning back against the wall as well. The muscles in his jaw clench as he rubs the back of his neck. The lipstick stains on his neck are smeared, not nearly as noticeable as they were before. “You know how he is.”
Leaning in closer, Kuroo squints his eyes, a sly grin on his face. “You missed a spot,” he tells Iwaizumi, who glares at him.
“Fuck off.”
Kuroo’s chuckle is cut off by the doors to the fourth floor opening in front of them. There are no guns pointed at him. No guards. No dogs. Just an empty hallway leading to a set of double doors.
He hopes his shoes scuff the ridiculous marble floors as he follows Iwaizumi out of the elevator. They’re startling white, inlaid with streaks of gold.
Iwaizumi doesn’t bother knocking on the doors. He shoves them open wide, grumbling something under his breath that Kuroo doesn’t pay much attention to, immediately focused on the wall of windows across the room and the man perched behind the large, white desk centered in front of them.
He’s sprawled lazily in his chair, slumped against his desk, and unsurprised by their sudden arrival. “You truly have no tact, Hajime,” he complains, sighing as his head of security enters the room. Iwaizumi rolls his eyes as the other man runs a hand through his brunet bangs. “Though, I suppose that can’t be helped.” His lips curl into a practiced smile when his dark eyes land on Kuroo, his expression brightening as he lifts his head from where it was cradled in his hand.
“Oikawa.”
“Kuroo.” The returned greeting is clipped. Oikawa sits up straighter behind his desk. “What a surprise.” He raises an eyebrow, silently observing his old acquaintance, his stare critical as he looks over Kuroo’s rumpled suit: jacket left unbuttoned and tie loose around his neck. “You look like shit,” he says, as Iwaizumi closes the set of doors and leans against the wall beside them.
Kuroo huffs. “Good to see you too,” he responds, sarcasm thick on his tongue as he walks further into the office, eyes wandering around the space.
It’s open. Clean. Decorated in blues and whites and golds. Expensive, but not tacky. Even Oikawa is wearing a nice blue button-up, looking more presentable than either Kuroo or Iwaizumi. The man in question slides his work aside, gesturing for Kuroo to sit in one of the sleek armchairs in front of him.
“How long has it been since we saw each other?” Oikawa asks him, clasping his hands together on his desk, head tilted to one side in thought.
“Almost two years.” Kuroo eyes the chair before sitting on it and stretching out like an overgrown housecat. “Back on Ganymede. When everything was going to shit.”
Oikawa hums low under his breath. His gaze seems to darken with the memory. The room feels colder suddenly. Heavier. Oikawa watches as Kuroo absently spins one of the rings decorating his fingers. He changes the subject. “You’re working with a team now. I suppose you always were a natural leader.”
Kuroo shrugs—grits his teeth. “I keep picking up strays. Bad habit.” He nods towards the paperwork shoved to one side of the desk, piles in various states of disarray. A small crack in the façade Oikawa likes to put on. “How’s the casino these days?”
It doesn’t catch him off guard like Kuroo hoped. Oikawa’s brows furrow, his smile slipping. “You don’t care about my business ventures.”
“You don’t care who I’m working with so long as they aren’t after you,” Kuroo counters.
The stare Oikawa levels him with is matched by Kuroo’s own, gold and brown clashing. It’s Oikawa who backs down first, though Kuroo knows better than to call it a win. “Fair enough,” he concedes. “Now, are you really going to make me ask why you’re here?”
“Bounty’s for some guy named Ikeda,” Kuroo tells him. “From what I’ve heard, he was a dealer for some kingpin on Callisto who took over within the last year, after the Widow Maker Conflict.” Kuroo’s eyes narrow. “He made off with four-hundred-thousand worth of some shit called Paradise. Nasty hallucinogenic. Some places are calling it Reaper. I don’t know much about it yet.”
Oikawa and Iwaizumi exchange a look over Kuroo’s shoulder. “So, the kingpin wants this Ikeda taken out?”
“No.” Kuroo shakes his head. “ISSP put out the bounty because they think he’ll talk. They want to get rid of this shit before one of the Mars’ Syndicates gets ahold of it. Bounty is set at over half a million right now.”
Iwaizumi scoffs by the door, arms folded across his chest. “They think the Syndicates don’t already? Dumb fucks.”
The sneered comment is followed by stark silence.
Behind his desk, Oikawa sighs. “I see,” he mutters. What little of his smile was left falls away, his lips pressing into a thin line. “The bounty does make it harder for the dealers to put out a hit instead. Too many people will be looking for one man. Once this Paradise ends up with one of the Syndicates, it’ll practically be untouchable. It makes sense they’d put out such a high bounty for it. Why do you think he’s coming here?”
“That pool downstairs is at almost five hundred thousand, right?”
This time, Iwaizumi outright laughs. “Ikeda thinks they’ll let him pay it back? They’ll make him bite the curb. Poor bastard’s good as dead already. If the kingpin doesn’t take him out now, one of the Syndicates will after he’s already in custody.”
“We got here early thanks to a tip from a friend of mine,” Kuroo explains, looking out the window. “As of about five minutes ago, every bounty hunter in the area is headed this way. By the time they get here, my crew downstairs will have caught Ikeda and left for the Juno station. Titan is going to be crawling with bounty hunters before long,” he tacks on. “And you don’t come to Titan without—”
“Without stopping at Blue Castle,” Oikawa finishes for him, tone dry. He rolls his eyes. “I’m aware.”
Kuroo leans back further in his seat, a grin already tugging at the corner of his mouth. There are no ships in sight yet, but he knows better than to think they aren’t coming. “With no bounty left, they’ll have nothing better to do but drink and play blackjack.”
Oikawa doesn’t look convinced. “They’ll be broke,” he says simply. “All of you bounty hunters are. What good does that do me?”
“It’s not my problem if they don’t know when to quit.” His golden eyes cut away from the window, catlike gaze settling on Oikawa. “Besides, when has that ever stopped you from letting someone rack up a gambling debt before?” Kuroo asks.
“I paid off yours, didn’t I?” Oikawa throws out casually, gaining a scowl from Kuroo in response. He ignores it, glancing down at his paperwork instead, then at Iwaizumi, before returning his attention to the bounty hunter on the other side of his desk. “And why wouldn’t I go after the bounty myself if he’s worth that much?”
Kuroo’s response is immediate. “You don’t like to get your hands dirty unless you need to. This one isn’t worth your time.” He shifts his weight on the chair, grinning. “And you still owe me a favor from back then.”
This time, Oikawa frowns. His eyes narrow in irritation. “I thought we settled that back on Ganymede?”
“You owed me two.”
Iwaizumi snorts, grinning as Oikawa sends him a withering look.
Instead of arguing like Kuroo expects, Oikawa pauses as he considers what Kuroo has told him so far. It does make sense. The bounty isn’t worth it to him, not when he’s unprepared. Even so.
“Why didn’t you join the poker game downstairs?” he asks. “The pool right now is more than your cut of the bounty. You could have taken it and run. Left someone else to deal with the bounty. It would have been easy for you.”
Kuroo smirks. “Where’s the fun in that?”
Oikawa clasps his hands together, fingers linking together. “What exactly are you planning, Kuroo?” he asks, leaning forward and resting his chin on his hands.
“Nothing you need to worry about,” Kuroo promises.
“Somehow, I don’t believe that.”
“You don’t have to.” He shrugs. “All I’m asking is for your boys to stay out of my way.”
A pause. Oikawa is still frowning at him. “And if they don’t?”
“Tooru,” Iwaizumi cuts in again. He still hasn’t moved from the spot he took up near the doors, staying out of it but remaining close. Just in case. Kuroo and Oikawa are too similar sometimes. Slick-tongued. Both of them piss Iwaizumi off like that. “It saves us a mess to clean up ourselves. Besides, business is business.”
Oikawa purses his lips, acknowledging Iwaizumi, but keeping his gaze firmly on Kuroo.
Instead of answering, Kuroo reaches under his jacket. Iwaizumi tenses where he’s leaning up against the wall, but before he can reach for his gun, Kuroo places a stack of blackjack chips on Oikawa’s desk and slides them across. Over a dozen ten-thousand-dollar chips clatter against the wood. “The house always wins, right?”
Oikawa lets him leave, dark brown eyes trailing after Kuroo as he heads for the door.
He stops beside Iwaizumi. “There is one more thing.”
“Oh?” Oikawa muses. “And what’s that?”
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The ground floor is still bustling with activity when Kuroo and Iwaizumi step out of the elevator. A quick glance around the room tells Kuroo he hasn’t missed much. The all-in poker game hasn’t started yet, but there are more people milling around now, lingering closer to the middle of the room. He doesn’t see Ikeda, not yet anyway. It won’t be long until he crawls out of whatever hole he’s hidden away in.
He just hopes that’s before more bounty hunters start showing up. Despite what he told Oikawa, Kuroo isn’t so foolish as to think he’s the only bounty hunter with friends in the ISSP. If he wasn’t already headed towards Titan, they might have been too late getting here.
Catching sight of Bokuto’s hair in the crowd below, Kuroo claps Iwaizumi on the shoulder. “Until next time,” he says, offering the other man a parting grin. “Also, I should probably warn you that Bokuto tends to break things. I’m sure Oikawa won’t mind paying for the damages himself, of course. As part of that favor.”
“Fuck off.”
Iwaizumi shakes Kuroo off, much to his delight, and he chuckles as he heads back towards the bar he’s supposed to be posted at. He doesn’t make it far before he pauses, hesitating before he reaches the floor. Iwaizumi quirks a brow at Kuroo’s behavior but watches silently as the other man stands there for a moment, only a few feet away from Iwaizumi. “Hey, Hajime?” Kuroo calls over his shoulder without turning around. “Thanks.”
Iwaizumi rolls his eyes. “Whatever, space cowboy.” Leaving Kuroo there, he turns towards the back of the room where Kyoutani is posted. “Don’t go gettin’ yourself killed now.”
An amused huff slips past Kuroo’s mouth. “No promises,” he says under his breath.
It’s not until he makes it back onto the gambling floor that Kuroo switches his earphone back on. Predictably, white noise fills his left ear. That static sound ends when a furious voice breaks through.
“What the hell was that?” Tsukishima sneers at him, louder than usual. Kuroo wasn’t gone long. Fifteen minutes at most. But it was just long enough to piss the younger man off. “Why did you cut me—”
“Tell Kou and Keiji to get back into position and wait for my signal,” he says, calmly cutting Tsukishima off. “And then connect all of the lines. If you’re going to stay outside, make sure you have eyes on the front at all times. The final pool starts in about twenty minutes. Everyone is all-in. Ikeda will be here for it.”
Tsukishima is quiet for a long time. Kuroo knows he’s pissed the younger man off, but right now, he doesn’t care.
The radio in his ear crackles one more time. “Fine.”
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It’s easy to drown out the chatter in his ear as he sits at the bar. Bokuto’s voice fades into background noise, Akaashi’s occasionally filtering through as he responds to his partner. Tsukishima hasn’t spoken since he linked the coms, still pissed at Kuroo.
He’ll have to deal with that later.
Sighing, Kuroo runs his fingers through his hair and leans back.
A whiskey glass clinks against the counter in front of him. Kuroo’s gaze jumps towards the sound. Ice bobs in the glass. Slowly, his hand falls away from his head. A frown tugs at his mouth.
The same bartender from before stands across from him. Under Kuroo’s gaze, he shifts his weight back and forth on his feet. “It’s on the house,” he says as Kuroo raises an eyebrow at the drink he didn’t order. “Enjoy.”
Kuroo stares at the glass for a moment, but he doesn’t dwell on it. If Oikawa wants to waste good liquor on him, who is he to complain about it?
Raising the glass to his mouth, he takes a drink. The taste that bursts across his tongue almost makes him choke. Kuroo struggles not to laugh, biting his lip to keep from coughing.
Apple juice.
“Bastard,” he mumbles, a small smile tugging at his lips as he shakes his head.
It must be just loud enough for the microphone to catch, because Bokuto’s idle chatter cuts off abruptly. White-noise buzzes in his ear before Bokuto calls out, “Kuro?” A glance in the mirror shows that Bokuto is already looking at him from across the room, head cocked to one side curiously.
“It’s nothing,” Kuroo says, brushing him off. “Try not to break too much tonight, Kou. It’s coming out of your cut this time.”
The sudden shift in topic makes Bokuto gasp, his pride on the line. But before Bokuto can whine about being called out for occasionally being destructive, Tsukishima speaks up, his familiar bored tone smooth over the speaker in his ear.
“Kuroo,” he says nonchalantly. “Ikeda is here.”
Using the mirror, Kuroo scans the room. At the very edge of the glass, Kuroo catches a glimpse of a thin man with mousy brown hair standing near the entrance, eyes darting around the room. He’s making himself more obvious than Kuroo was. Jittery. The kind that brings problems with him where he goes. Even if he hadn’t warned Iwaizumi and Oikawa, they would have noticed him themselves immediately.
“I see him. Three o’clock.” The others call affirmatives once they have eyes on their target, and Kuroo mulls over what they should do. They need to get out of here quickly. Once more bounty hunters arrive at Blue Castle, they’ll be in trouble. “Bokuto. Akaashi.”
“Want us to cut him off?”
Kuroo shakes his head. “No. Let him get close. We don’t want him running.” He doesn’t dare face Ikeda directly; he looks jumpy enough to take off if he notices. Instead, he follows him in the mirror. Just like he told Oikawa, the bounty heads straight for the counter, exchanging what little cash he has for Blue Castle chips. He’s closest to Bokuto, still lingering near the poker tables. “Kei, is there anyone following him?”
“It looked like there might have been three men tailing him on the street. They just walked in as well.”
Akaashi speaks up from where he’s carefully hidden himself in the shadow of the back wall. “They’re looking for someone,” he says, watching the trio of men’s eyes roam around the room, gazes more shrewd than if they were simply entranced by the sights. “Bounty hunters?”
Kuroo catches sight of them a moment later and grimaces. It only takes one look for him to know they have a problem. “Hitmen,” he corrects. So much for it being harder to put out a hit. Ikeda must have information that’s too valuable for him to be left alive if they’re sending this many after him. “Shit. Cut them off. Don’t lose them in the crowd.”
“You got it!”
“And you?”
Kuroo slides off his barstool. “Just leave Ikeda to me.” He pauses before grabbing his glass from the counter, taking it with him.
Bokuto and Akaashi linger further away, keeping their eyes on the hitmen trailing Ikeda, while Kuroo heads straight for the poker table. Ikeda skirts around the edge of the same table, moving to the side furthest from the doors, expecting to be followed. It would be smart. Except Kuroo is coming from behind him.
It should be easy. They’ve dealt with more difficult targets before. Craftier. Stronger. More desperate. As soon as Kuroo gets close enough, he’ll subdue Ikeda. Bokuto and Akaashi should be able to handle the hitmen by themselves if they’re working for some low-level kingpin on Callisto.
Halfway across the room, Kuroo bumps into someone on his right.
“Fuck,” he hisses. His drink sloshes in the glass, spilling over his fingers. The man who ran into him swears as well. Amber liquid stains the side of his white shirt. As his arms jerk away from the sudden cold, the sides of his jacket shift.
There’s a gun holstered at his side.
Kuroo’s eyes snap up. The other man is already looking at him. Jaw clenched. Eyes narrowed. His fingers twitch at his side. He hadn’t been on the first floor all night. They didn’t see him come in.
“Son of a bitch,” Kuroo says.
“Kuroo?” someone asks over the radio.
He sighs. “There are four of them.”
He throws what’s left of his drink in the other man’s face and lurches to the side as the fourth hitman draws his gun and shoots. The loud bang startles everyone in the room. Kuroo doesn’t see where the bullet goes as he ducks out of the way.
The gun is still trained on him when Kuroo rolls back onto his feet. There’s more distance between them now. A long blackjack table caught between the two of them. The hitman sneers at him. The gun levels with Kuroo’s chest. His finger pulls back on the trigger.
Kuroo lashes out with his leg. His foot collides with the underside of the blackjack table. It’s thrown onto its side. Two of the four legs lurch off the ground. Balanced precariously like that, the table blocks the bullets aimed at him. Wood splinters upon impact at point blank. Blue and white poker chips fly through the air.
All hell breaks loose.
There are screams in Blue Castle as the other hitmen draw their guns as well. People stumble from their seats on the gambling floor, shoving to get out of the way of gunfire that doesn’t come. Bokuto and Akaashi are faster.
Two of the men are caught off-guard and taken down.
Kuroo doesn’t watch his partners grapple for their guns. His eyes sweep around the room in search of Ikeda. He’s already taken off, racing towards the side door leading out to the alleys surrounding Blue Castle. He spits out a curse. It’ll be hard to catch him if he gets outside.
The hitman across from Kuroo seems to realize the same thing. Still blocked by the table, he trains his gun on Ikeda instead, ready to take the shot.
As the other man fires his gun, Kuroo throws the whiskey glass still clenched in his hand. The bullet smashes into the specially made Saturn Glass which explodes with the impact, delayed by only a second. Shards of glass rain down. The bullet’s trajectory shifts off course; it ends up embedded in the wall inches from Ikeda as he throws himself out the side door.
Before he can take another shot, Kuroo throws his weight against the upright table. It topples onto the hitman, knocking him onto the ground. One of the wooden legs snaps off.
Oikawa is going to be pissed.
Kuroo doesn’t have long to dwell on that. One of the other three hitmen pushes through the crowd. Before Kuroo can grab his own gun, the other man is already halfway out the door.
He makes sure to step on the table as he races after them, knocking the wind out of the man beneath it.
Kuroo throws the door open, letting it bang against the side of the building. The alley is empty. Both men are gone.
“Shit,” he sneers. “Kei, any movement on the west side of the entrance?”
“None.”
He runs to the right.
From what he remembers, this alley leads to a dead end behind the casino. An area sectioned off by the man who owned Blue Castle before Oikawa. They should be trapped there. If not, the wall should at least slow them down long enough for him to catch up.
Kuroo rounds the corner. A bang. He throws himself against the alley wall. A bullet buries itself in the bricks behind where he was standing. Kuroo yanks out his own gun, leveling it with the hitman’s head.
Before he can take the shot, the hitman pulls Ikeda between them, turning his gun on their bounty instead.
“Drop it. Now,” he demands, shoving the pistol against Ikeda’s temple. “Or he’s dead.”
Ikeda inhales sharply, tensing. Wide, terrified eyes try to meet Kuroo’s, but he doesn’t spare the bounty a look, keeping his eyes locked with the hitman’s as his finger hovers over the trigger.
Kuroo’s grip on his own gun is loose. He raises an eyebrow at the threat. “What do I care about that?” he asks. The hitman’s eyes widen. His shoulders slacken momentarily in surprise. Ikeda tenses as Kuroo continues. “He’s dead either way, right? That pool inside is worth more than this bastard is.”
The hitman hesitates, his brow furrowing in confusion. “But you’re a cowboy, aren’t you?”
Kuroo shrugs with one shoulder, gun still pointed at the hitman. “I’m not here to save anyone,” he says truthfully. A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth as the pistol moves just an inch away from Ikeda’s head. “Besides. You really think you’re faster than me?”
He pulls the trigger.
Blood splatters across the side of Ikeda’s face. The hitman cries out as a bullet buries itself in his shoulder. He drops the gun. Kuroo shoots him again as he stumbles forward, this time in the leg. He hits the ground with a thud and doesn’t move.
Kuroo doesn’t lower his weapon until Ikeda stumbles back against the wall and slides down onto his ass, his legs giving out.
“Thank you,” Ikeda croaks after a minute of silence. His hands tremble as he curls further into the brick wall behind him, and he watches as Kuroo nudges the hitman with the tip of his shoe.
He kicks the man’s injured shoulder when he doesn’t react the first time, satisfied when the man groans, long and low under his breath. Good. He doesn’t feel like dealing with a body today. Too much of a hassle with the paperwork.
Kuroo leans back against the opposite wall of the alley and takes out a cigarette.
Ikeda sucks in a shuddering breath. “Thank you,” he says again before Kuroo can light it.
Kuroo stills. “Don’t.” His voice is calm. Firm. “I meant it. You’re probably dead either way if you’ve pissed off the syndicates.” Ikeda flinches as Kuroo’s eyes finally snap over to meet his. “There’s not much the ISSP can do to protect you from them. You should have known that when you stole almost half a million worth of product.” He laughs at the face Ikeda makes, but there’s nothing humorous about it. “Hell, it might have been kinder to let him shoot you here, compared to what they’ll do after you’re taken in.”
He turns his back on Ikeda, lighting his cigarette. “You guys done inside?” he asks over the radio.
Akaashi answers. “We’re taking these three back to the Cat. Do you need help?”
“Nah, I should be—”
He stops abruptly.
Glancing over his shoulder, Kuroo finds a gun pointed at him again. This time it’s Ikeda holding it.
“Kuroo?”
He wets his lips. “Give me a minute,” he mumbles back.
Ikeda aims the gun at Kuroo’s head, trembling finger hesitating to squeeze down on the trigger. “I don’t wanna die,” he tells Kuroo, tears rolling down his cheeks.
Slowly, Kuroo raises one of his empty hands to his ear, silencing the radio. Ikeda’s hand won’t stop shaking. “You think running away forever is any better?”
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By the time Kuroo gets back with Ikeda and the hitman he took out, the others are already lounging around in the common area of the ship. The other three hitmen are tied up on the floor, their wrists cuffed behind their backs. Tsukishima is lying on one of the couches, wearing his headphones as he plays some handheld game, Akaashi leaning against the wall beside him. Bokuto is sitting cross-legged in front of the hitmen. A grin spreads across his face when Kuroo walks into the room.
“About time you got back, man! We were ready to leave without you!”
Akaashi sighs. Ignoring Bokuto, he looks at Kuroo as he shoves the last hitman with the rest. Ikeda, he lets sit on one of the chairs in the room, though his hands are bound in front of him.
“What do you want us to do with them?” he asks, nodding towards the four.
Kuroo crouches in front of them, brows furrowed in thought. “Might as well keep them,” he decides. “I might be able to swindle my guy into giving us a bonus for these bastards. Doubt they’re worth much though.” Shrugging, he stands and stretches. “Ah, well. Guess that’s not our problem.”
Akaashi nods, and Bokuto scrambles to his feet beside him. “Want us to take them downstairs?”
“Keep them separate,” Kuroo tells them. The last thing they need is for one of them to get their hands on Ikeda before they can turn him in.
Bokuto gives him a two-finger salute before he helps Akaashi pull the men to their feet. They don’t put up much of a struggle as they’re herded out of the main area. Ikeda, too, follows them without making a fuss. His face is still streaked with blood, his eyes puffy and red.
Kuroo doesn’t look at him for long.
“You seem to know a lot of people,” Tsukishima comments after Akaashi and Bokuto are gone with the others. He’s still playing his game, but his headphones are down around his neck.
“Must be my sparkling personality.” Tsukishima scoffs under his breath, and Kuroo levels him with a look, catching Tsukishima’s gaze before he can turn away. When the younger man stays quiet, Kuroo narrows his eyes. “You got something to say, say it.”
Tsukishima doesn’t hesitate this time. “Why did you turn off your headset?”
“Now, that’s a secret,” Kuroo tells him, starting to smile. When Tsukishima sends him a blank look in return, Kuroo doesn’t bother to keep it up. “I had business with an old friend. I didn’t need some kid listening in.” It’s the wrong thing to say.
“Right.”
The snappish tone has Kuroo gritting his teeth. “Is that a problem, Kei?”
The younger man rolls his eyes. “Whatever,” he says, getting off the couch. “The ship is on autopilot to Juno. I’ll be in my room.”
Suddenly exhausted, Kuroo drops onto the couch opposite where Tsukishima was sitting. A soft trilling sound comes from the open hallway leading toward the bedrooms. Kuroo’s head lolls to the side. A small smile tugs at his mouth as a fluffy, black cat pads into the room. Sumi chirps as soon as he sees Kuroo. The cat trots up to him, rubbing against Kuroo’s legs and winding around his ankles. He purrs loudly.
Clicking his tongue, Kuroo pats the seat beside him.
Sumi makes a sound as he hops onto the couch, immediately crawling onto Kuroo’s lap. “What the hell are we gonna do with him, huh, Susu?” Kuroo asks, rubbing the cat’s cheek. Sumi purrs louder, leaning more of his weight into Kuroo’s palm.
Predictably, Sumi offers no answers. Kuroo sighs as he runs his fingers along the cat’s spine, fingers brushing through his long hair.
Closing his eyes again, he leans his head back, thinking about what Oikawa said before. There was a reason he couldn’t have Tsukishima listening in.
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He stopped beside Iwaizumi. “There is one more thing.”
“Oh?” Oikawa mused. “And what’s that?”
Kuroo glanced over his shoulder, baring his teeth in a grin that was too wide. Too sharp. “I was never here.”
At his desk, Oikawa arched a brow, chin resting on his laced fingers. An amused smile tugged at his lips. “Of course not,” he agreed easily, brushing off the unspoken threat and pacifying Iwaizumi, whose hand had twitched towards the gun at his hip. “How could you be?” Oikawa continued. “After all, you’ve been dead for three years.”
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themaribatpit · 3 years
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Jasonette July Day 20: Then Perish
Written by: The Maribat Pit @jasonette-july-event​ Prompt: Then Perish (Part 1) Rating: M (violence, minor character deaths) A/N: We wanted to finish Jasonette July with a bang.  The second half will be posted tomorrow for the Saturday Challenge.  We’ve appreciated all your comments and kind words, we really do read every one. It genuinely means a lot to us and encourages us to continue writing together.  As a fandom you have been nothing but kind and supportive, and we enjoy bringing you fics great and small with a wide variety of genres, dynamics, and iterations.  Also blame DC fanboy for the memes in this fic. Marinette loved to travel, she had traveled all over the world from New York to Shanghai. Today, she traveled with her parents to Gotham City to visit her parents' friends, whom they had not seen in many years. Sabine was initially afraid to visit Gotham City, due to its crime rate and ever-growing list of criminals. Tom reassured his wife, saying that his big stature would scare any would-be criminal from harming them, that the trip would be short and they would visit Metropolis afterwards. Marinette wore the Ladybug Miraculous, just in case something were to happen. As the family got off the taxi at Park Row, everyone felt something was off. "Park Row really has...changed." Thomas muttered. Sabine held on to both her husband and her daughter, "I think we should leave." she said. Soon shadows began appearing around the corner, then came the yelling, and soon after came the gunshots. Thomas grabbed his wife and daughter and ran to find shelter from a hail of bullets. Marinette looked back to see many civilians, men, women and children caught in the middle of this gang war.  She needed to be a hero, her father could take care of her mother, she needed to save those in danger. She freed herself from her father's grasp and ran behind a corner, she whispered "spots on" and transformed into Ladybug. Diving and flipping across streaking bullets everywhere, she flung her yo-yo to drag any unfortunate bystanders into an abandoned building. While in a building with innocent civilians, she peeked her head out the window to see a monstrous man.  Wearing a blood red helmet and wielding two pistols, he systematically killed everyone before him. His flips and kicks were graceful yet brutal, the cries of pain and pleas for mercy made her shudder. She couldn't fight him, no, she was afraid to. It would be best to find her family, she did all she could and got bystanders to safety. She quietly transformed back into Marinette and went to look for her family. She ran back to where she last saw them, she scoured the streets shouting "Maman! Papa!" hoping that using her French would help her parents find and identify her. She soon ran into the Red Beast, as she began to turn and run back before she saw the two people at his feet. “<No, no no no, please god no.>” she whispered to herself, tears building in her eyes. There lay her parents, in a pool of their blood with bullet holes between their eyes. Marinette dropped to her knees, silently crying. The Red Hood either didn't see her, or chose to spare her and decided to walk away. Marinette ran to her parents, grabbing them both and shaking them. "<Don’t leave me, please don’t leave me>” she wept. Later, she was picked up by the GCPD. They escorted her on the flight back to Paris along with the remains of her parents. When she arrived, she was approached by the Aide Sociale à L'enfance (ASE).  They told her that she'll be staying at a nearby orphanage until after her parents' funeral. Then she would then be sent off to live with her only remaining relative, her Great-Uncle Wang in Shanghai. On the night before the funeral, Marinette was unable to sleep.  She curled her legs to her chest while she sat on the mattress.  She has spent the past few days researching the mysterious Red Hood, crime boss and self-proclaimed Prince of Gotham.  She read article after article of his meteoric rise to power, first conquering Black Mask, then The Penguin. Nightmares plagued her whenever she closed her eyes, she saw the Red Hood tower over her parent's lifeless bodies, covered in their blood. She was worried about being sent off to a foreign country tomorrow evening, while barely even speaking any Mandarin. All the while knowing that once she is on that flight to Shanghai, her parent's killer would without a doubt walk free. Morning comes, yet Marinette still thinks of what she should do. Could she really go to Shanghai to start her life anew, not knowing the language and allowing her parents’ killer to go on unpunished? At the funeral, while standing over her parents’ graves, she remained silent. The priest, ASE agents and her friends all came to pay their respects. Each of her friends approached her to give their sympathies, but she did not listen to a word they said. The Red Hood weighed heavily on her mind, and she made her fateful decision. To run, run and never look back. She had prepared a backpack containing the Miracle box with all the Miraculous, along with a few essential supplies and money. She turned into Multimouse to sneak on board a passenger aircraft to make her way to Gotham City.  Jason knew, better than Batman, that fighting crime sometimes meant getting your hands dirty.  What started as a petty squabble between two rival gangs grew into a bloodbath.  He missed Roy at times like these, Artemis and Bizarro were still missing, but he held out hope that they would one day return to this Earth. A teenage girl with an impressively sturdy yo-yo had burst onto the scene, trying to get civilians to safety.  He was a bit too preoccupied with the battle to get a good look at the girl.  Knowing Bruce, the next time he’d see her, she’d be under his wing.  Sadly, there were two civilians that neither of them could save, a large, burly looking man and a tiny woman.  The person who shot them with frightening accuracy had got away, moments later a teenage girl had arrived on the scene.  There was a brief flash of fear in her eyes when she saw him, and she would have just scurried away if only he hadn’t been at the very spot where her parents lay dead.  The girl was inconsolable as she fell to her knees and wept, pleading with them in French.  Red Hood walked away, thinking it would be best to leave her to grieve.  There wasn’t a whole lot he could say in English that would make her feel any better, never mind in French. He watched from a distance as the GCPD arrived to pick up the pieces, Red Hood watched from the shadows as police officers and an interpreter tried to get the girl’s side of the story.  From what he gathered, the girl’s name was Marinette Dupain-Cheng and her family owned a bakery in Paris.  Her next of kin was a relative in Shanghai, and it sounded like the best option for her would be to go and live there.   The plan was to ship her and her parents’ bodies back to Paris, and let child services take it from there.  He would have probably told her to get as far away from Gotham as possible, away from the clutches of a certain someone who was also orphaned in Crime Alley.  He saw her cradle what looked like a small pink doll to her face as she wept, before he turned and walked away. A week later, Jason had a break in the case.  This was all caused by some low-level members of the Falcone and Maroni families continuing their decades-old battle.  As far as everyone knew, the crime families swiftly executed the men responsible and went about their business.  Two crime families were unable to keep their lackeys in check, and now the people who weren’t lucky enough to be whisked away by Yo-Yo Girl, were now either dead or wishing they were.   He thought back to poor little Marinette, wondering where she was now. Bruce confronted him at the Iceberg lounge shortly after the incident, to which Jason explained that the perp had got away.   He had killed people before, and that wasn’t stopping anytime soon, after all it wasn’t that long ago that he tried to kill the Penguin.  “This may surprise you Bruce, but the Red Hood isn’t the only one who uses guns in Gotham '' he snapped.  There were some lines that even he did not cross, lines that he had drawn for himself. Judging by the accuracy of the gunshots, this was no accident.  Their daughter was probably starting a new life, probably on the other side of the world.  Still, he wished he could have said something to the girl, a simple “Hey, it’s gonna be all right” probably would have sufficed.  Little did he know that Marinette was making her return to Gotham City.  She would have her revenge on the Red Hood, and this time she had nothing to fear and nothing to lose. After her very uncomfortable 10 hour flight from Paris to Gotham City in the cargo hold, Multimouse quietly sneaked out of the crowded airport without alerting anyone. Marinette wandered around Chinatown, thinking of her next step. She was thinking about how she would have to go through the city with a fine tooth comb to search for a lead, likely starting small with his men in the streets.  Before she could put the earrings back in her backpack, Tikki begged her to reconsider what she was doing.  “Please Marinette, you need time to heal, to grieve,” she pleaded, but Marinette didn’t need the powers of healing, luck and creation. If and when she encountered the Red Hood, she wanted to bring him death, misfortune and destruction.  After all, that was exactly what he had brought her.  With a stroke of luck, she overheard someone getting a beatdown.  "You get your ass outta here, this is Red Hood's turf. If you wanna sell that shit, you gotta give the boss his cut."  Marinette whispered "Plagg, claws out" and transformed into Lady Noire, before sneaking up behind one of the Red Hood’s men. He released the person he was beating, and chased him out the alleyway.  She took this opportunity to swing her staff,  hitting the back of his neck and sending him face first into the ground. He immediately tried to stand up, as he stood on wobbly legs he took out his knife from his jacket. "Oh shit, Catwoman?!" he yelled. Lady Noire used her staff to sweep him off his feet and slammed her staff onto his face.  "Where is the Red Hood?" she growled.  "Screw you bitch!" the goon retorted. Lady Noire had a feeling that he wouldn’t tell her the location of the Red Hood, so she decided to try a different approach. "Fine then, why don't you give your boss this simple message…" Before she could finish her sentence, she heard the telltale click of a gun being loaded. She turned around and started spinning her staff, creating a grey shield to deflect the storm of bullets that were being fired at her.  She moved her hands at a rapid pace, and frantically pushed back against the hail of bullets.  As the bullet storm subsided she looked up and saw, up on the fire escape, was the Red Hood with an assault rifle. The Red Hood casually tossed his gun aside and asked "So, what's this message you have for me, Catwoman?" He gracefully did a forward flip and landed in a crouch.  "Wait a minute..." he said, the first thing he noticed was that this person was tiny, 4’11 or maybe 5’ on a good day. Her eyes were a bright acid green with dark slits like a real cat’s pupils.  "You're not Catwoman, you're too short to be her, for one thing.” he remarked “also she usually has a whip instead of a staff, who are you?" Lady Noire gritted her teeth, "You killed my family" she answered with a low growl. "Do you have the slightest idea how little that narrows it down Kitten?" Red Hood's taunts made her snap.  She screamed "YOU TOOK EVERYTHING FROM ME!" The Red Hood stared at her, as he crossed his arms.  "I don't even know who you are, what's your beef with me?" He asked, Lady Noire lunged at the Red Hood with her staff, she swung wildly to try and hit him.  He dodged most of her strikes with ease, “Is that the best you’ve got?  You’re gonna have to try harder than that.”  Where she might have lacked in skill, she made up for in determination.  She wasn’t pulling any punches, he had to give her that.  He caught the staff under his arm, and punched Lady Noire with his free arm.  As he went on the offensive, he slapped her staff aside, and came at her with a series of punches and kicks.   “So, what do you want Kitten? Money? Jewels? A very big ball of string?”  he joked.  “All I want is revenge,” she spluttered. “Get in line Kitten, you’re in the city that runs on vengeance” he retorted. Marinette was lucky that the suit gave her enhanced speed, strength and endurance. She always loved how the Lady Noire suit felt a lot lighter compared to the Ladybug suit. Though she shuddered to imagine what her opponent would do with this power.    He raised his leg to end his combination with a forceful downward kick, Lady Noire raised her staff up to a horizontal block to stop the kick. Upon contact with the kick, the staff split into two, and then Lady Noire launched into her counter attack. She was striking the Red Hood with a flurry of blows with both halves of her staff.  "Escrima sticks too? Looks like we have a Nightwing fan here” he smirked under the mask; this new girl was just full of surprises.  He brought his arms to the sides of his head in a defensive posture, blocking the onslaught of strikes from the escrima sticks.  Red Hood then grabbed Lady Noire by the back of her head, placing her in a Thai clinch. He launched a powerful knee to her face and sent her reeling back. He drew his pistols and fired a torrent of bullets at her. Lady Noire had to dodge, weave and use her staff to deflect incoming bullets. One bullet even grazed her cheek. She then pointed her staff at the Red Hood and extended it with so much force it slammed him against the wall of a nearby building. Without giving him any breathing room, she then retracted the staff. She launched herself towards him and then dropkicked his face straight into the wall. His helmet cracked against the tremendous pressure. "It's now or never” she thought, as she cast Cataclysm and swiped at one half of the Red Hood’s helmet. She saw the helmet dissolve and reveal the target beneath.  She noticed that underneath the helmet he wore a red domino mask, not unlike the one she usually wore.  She would have time to think about how overly dramatic that was later, as she used her other hand to pick up the knife on the ground that the other goon left behind.  She jumped on top of the Red Hood, “Now perish!” she cried out as she thrusted the blade towards the exposed part of his face. Red Hood recovered quickly and caught her hand holding the blade. As the two struggled for the knife, Lady Noire tried to swipe at him with Cataclysm again.  Suddenly, she felt the power of 50,000 volts coursing through her, as the Red Hood activated the taser hidden in his chest piece.  She powered through, running purely on anger, grief and adrenaline. She was only able to struggle for about a minute, before passing out from the pain.  Red Hood flipped Lady Noire’s unconscious body aside, before he took off his helmet to inspect the damage. "The hell?." he pondered, "So, indestructible staff that can do double duty as a shield, and the ability to disintegrate things with one touch. Let's find out who you really are."  He slowly stood up and looked down at her unconscious body. He tried to peel away her domino mask, yet it would not come off. He tugged on the mask, even to the point of lifting the unconscious girl off the ground. He released the mask, and let the body drop with a small thud.  The Red Hood began talking to himself "She either superglued the mask on or it’s something else. Considering all that she can do, I'd say 80% chance it's magic and 20% a lantern. Either way a 100% pain in my ass".  He heard a small beeping noise and gingerly lifted her hand up off the floor.  As it emitted black and green energy, he noticed that she had a ring on.  The beeping came from a small picture of a paw print, which was missing a few pads.  If she was a lantern, that ring was going to run out of charge any moment now.  He took out his phone and called the Iceberg Lounge. He requested that they send for a van to pick him up and his new guest.   He requested that the Su Sisters get her cleaned up and ready. He needed to find out who sent her and who she worked for. He took out the special handcuffs that Batman designed when dealing with metahumans. As he walked towards Lady Noire about to cuff her, he heard some more beeping, followed by a bright light surrounding her.  Her suit and mask disappeared, leaving behind a small girl in pastel pink clothes who was probably no older than 15 or 16.  Her long braid changed back into a couple of shoulder-length pigtails, and she had a pink backpack on her back.  Jason looked inside the bag, there were a few sets of clothes, a wallet and an antique Chinese jewelry box.  He wondered if that ring was just one of many tools in her arsenal.  Jason's eyes widened, he recognised her as the girl he saw a few weeks ago when the turf war in Crime Alley broke out.  "What’s she doing here?" he said to himself aloud, “ Idiot” he muttered. He remembered following the girl and her GCPD escort to make sure she boarded her flight back to Paris.  She was supposed to be with her remaining family. Yet she came back to, no, ran away to Gotham City.  All for revenge.  He checked her wallet and saw the name printed on it, he sighed, this just confirmed that she was the same girl. When she had her revenge, what would she do then?  He wasn’t the undisputed master of thinking things through, but even he thought she was a fool to come back here.  Gotham City didn’t have the best track record dealing with orphans.  He knew this from personal experience, but there was that time where many were rounded up and sent upstate to juvie, for the crime of trying to survive on the streets.  He would have been in the same position, had it not been for his own fateful encounter in Crime Alley. He shuddered to think what her other option would be in a place like Gotham City, becoming a Robin.  Part of the reason he wanted her out of Gotham was so that Bruce wouldn’t get any ideas about taking her in.  When the car arrived, he scooped up the girl in his arms and carried her towards it.  Marinette woke up with her heart beating frantically in her chest, the first thing she saw was a bright light.  She was dead, she had to be, the last thing she remembered was confronting the Red Hood and now he had killed her.  She slowly sat up, she looked down to find that someone had changed her clothes, she was wearing light blue pajamas.  She started to look around, to her left there was a large floor to ceiling window where she could see a city at night with bright twinkling lights.  On the table next to her was the Miracle box, she quickly grabbed the box and looked through it. She gave a sigh of relief when she saw that all the Miraculous she brought with her were still there.   Suddenly, Marinette heard someone clear their throat.  At the foot of the bed, stood a rather large woman who had a bundle of clothes in her hand.  Next to her was a blonde woman with pink highlights who had a tray of food. “Oh good, you’re finally awake” the large woman said gruffly, she set the clothes down on the edge of the bed.  The blonde girl set a tea tray down in front of her, along with a couple of pastries.  Marinette’s heart sank at the sight of the croissants, they reminded her of her parents and their bakery. “Eat up and get dressed, the boss wants to see you later” the blonde woman told her, before skipping to the larger woman’s side.  Just as the two were about to leave, Marinette piped up, “Um, where am I?” she asked, “Who is your boss?” “You’re in the Iceberg Lounge in Gotham City”, the large woman told her gruffly.  “The name’s Suzie, this is one of my sisters, Candy. Our boss is the owner.”  Marinette gave an awkward wave as they left, and Candy returned it with a more cheerful one.    She took a bite out of the croissant, it tasted cold and dry. However, if she was going to defeat the Red Hood, she’d need all her strength. She put Plagg’s ring back in the box and reached for Ladybug’s earrings; she needed a new tactic.  When Tikki appeared in front of her, she also quickly looked around the room before looking back at Marinette with a concerned look on her face. “I couldn’t do it,” Marinette explained “he managed to stop me and I ended up back here”. Tikki’s eyes were sympathetic as Marinette held her closer to her face, “Are you sure you still want to go through with this?” Tikki asked.  “For now, I have to get changed and go upstairs to meet the boss.  Maybe he’s the one who found me after the fight was over” Marinette theorized as she gave Tikki the cookie from the tray.  While Tikki quietly nibbled at it, Marinette stood up and walked over to the edge of the bed.  Inside the small bundle of clothes were a simple white blouse and black skirt. They were a little big, she would probably hem it if she had her sewing machine.    Moments later, a tall woman with dark hair led Marinette into the penthouse, a large room with a desk in the corner.   A tall man in a suit stood with his back towards the door, overlooking the sparkling city skyline.  She slowly stepped inside, looking around the room as she walked towards the man.  “Um hi, who are you?” Marinette asked as she apprehensively walked towards him.  She couldn’t help but feel small in that grand high-ceiling room. “I am the owner of the Iceberg Lounge,” he explained. “I guess the question I should be asking is…” he turned towards her and Marinette saw he had a domino mask over his eyes and a red half mask covering his nose and mouth, “who are you?” He threw something at her and she caught it.  She looked down and saw the Red Hood’s helmet, half of it looked as though someone tried to tear the metal open.  Then she remembered everything she had researched about the Red Hood, and the fight that took place not long after she arrived back in Gotham. “You…” she hissed. To be continued...
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