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gingiesworld · 6 months

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Hot Milf’s Kitten

Part 2

MILF Wanda Maximoff (37) x Fem Reader (24)

Warnings: Smut. Angst. Fluff.

Taglist : @natashamaximoff-69 @canvascoloredin @wizardofstories @louxbloom @wandanats-goodgirl @the-ox-fan20 @ladyqueenxoxo @aemilia19 @wandaromamoff69 @mfd-101 @dorabledewdroop @marvelogic @dopeyouth @karsonromanoff @bimad @natashaswife4125 @natleft (if you want to be added to my taglist, please DM me or comment)

Word Count: 4.1k+

18+ MINORS DNI

Since the night the two had confessed, Y/N had to return to college to finish their final year, but that never stopped Wanda from getting her fill, either through video call or when she would surprise Y/N at their dorm for stolen moments together. Even opting to stay over on the nights she never had the twins.

“You know, I don’t think I have ever been this happy in my life.” Y/N whispered as she caressed Wanda’s bare back.

“I remember you always used to go silent whenever I was around.” Wanda teased as Y/N nodded.

“You made me nervous, even just being in your presence.” She spoke tenderly as Wanda’s hand danced up and down Y/N’s bare stomach. “But the good kind though.” She breathed out as her skin burned beneath the older woman’s touch.

“Yeah, do you still get nervous around me, kitten?” Wanda husked as she leaned up, her lips ghosting Y/N’s as her hand moved up to cup her breast, squeezing as Y/N closed her eyes. “Don’t keep mommy waiting. Answer me kotenok.” She whispered in Y/N’s ear as bit her lobe, causing an involuntary moan to escape Y/N’s mouth.

“Yes, mommy.” Y/N breathed out as Wanda smirked at the younger woman below her.

“Good.” She now hovered over her, looking at her like a predator as her hands moved teasingly down Y/N’s body, smirking as she squirmed beneath her touch until she cupped her already soaked core. Teasing her clit with her fingers she leaned in and bit Y/N’s lip before kissing her roughly, forcing her tongue into the younger woman’s mouth as she applied more pressure to Y/N’s clit.

Once Y/N’s kisses became sloppy, Wanda started to nip and suck down Y/N’s neck. She was a writhing mess underneath Wanda’s touch, just even a slight touch would send electricity through her whole being.

“You look so pretty.” Wanda whispered as she teased Y/N’s aching hole with a single digit. “Moaning and squirming.” She inserted her finger slowly before pulling it all of the way out. “Just ready for me to fuck you like the good girl I know you are.” Y/N moaned as Wanda went as rough as she could, soon grazing Y/N’s collarbone with her teeth as she added another finger.

“Fuck.” Y/N groaned as she arched her back, raising her hips as Wanda curled her fingers, hitting Y/N’s g spot causing her to lift her hips.

“What was that kitten?” She taunted as she removed her fingers, removing herself from the bed to grab a tie that Y/N had hanging on her desk chair. “You have a real foul mouth darling.” She straddled Y/N’s lap, soon tying a knot and putting it inside Y/N’s mouth, then tying it around her head. “I want you to show me how much of a good kitten you can be.” She patted Y/N’s cheek before she moved to get another two ties from the closet. “And no touching kitten. I am in control.” She told her as she tied her arms to the bedposts before grabbing the double ended strap from the nightstand. Placing it beside Y/N before straddling her thighs, soon spreading her legs to tease Y/N a little. “Just sit there and watch mommy, can you do that for me kitten?”

“Mmh.” Y/N nodded her head frantically, her eyes on Wanda’s body as she moved one hand to her breast and the other between her thighs. Wanda’s eyes never left Y/N’s as she applied pressure to her clit, moaning at the feeling as she closed her eyes.

“Keep your eyes on me, kotenok.” She ordered as Y/N watched her hand move against her already dripping core. Soon inserting a finger, a trace of a smirk on her face as she heard Y/N groan as she tried to get out of the ties. “Nu uh.” Wanda moaned as she thrust in and out at a steady pace. “Don’t struggle or I will drag this out longer than necessary.”

Y/N’s eyes remained on the sight before her, watching as she inserted another finger, moaning out Y/N’s name as she curled her fingers. Y/N struggled to keep her composure as Wanda’s slick started to drip down onto her thighs. The sound of her gasps and moans as she clenches around her fingers. Her eyes opened briefly to look into Y/N’s lust blown eyes.

“I bet you wish you could touch me.” She sneered as she continued her movements. “I bet you wish it was your fingers I was clenching around.” She let out a gasp as she could feel her climax nearing. “I bet you wish you could taste me, kitten.” Soon cumming all over her fingers and Y/N’s lap.

Y/N watched as she slowed down her movements, pulling her fingers out and running them through Y/N’s folds, inserting them into her core. She smirked as Y/N’s head lolled back onto the pillows, gasping and moaning as started to thrust them.

“Keep your eyes on me, kitten.” She snarled as she removed her fingers, reaching for the strap and inserting the smaller end inside Y/N, watching as she closed her eyes briefly before Wanda slapped her thigh harshly. “I said, keep your eyes on me.”

Rubbing the area she had just slapped before she slowly lowered herself down on the strap. Her mouth agape as Y/N watched, unable to do anything to fulfill her desires of touching the woman above her.

“Now, be a good girl for mommy and keep your eyes on mine.” She husked as she started to roll her hips, Y/N moaned, struggling to keep from closing her eyes. Once Wanda caught sight of it, she decided to knead Y/N’s breasts roughly before slapping them. “I said, eyes open.” She growled as she gripped her jaw tightly. “Now watch mommy like a good girl.”

Y/N’s eyes remained wide open, drying out and itchy as she watched Wanda fuck herself. Taking in how her face contorted with pleasure, how her breasts bounced in time with her movements. Wanda knew that Y/N was struggling to keep her composure, just by watching the sweat bead from her head. Once she was close to her own orgasm, she leaned forward, gripping Y/N’s jaw once more, enough to leave a mark.

“Cum with me, kitten.” She husked out before continuing her previous movements, keeping her eyes locked on Y/N��s as the two moaned, reaching their highs together. Wanda soon stopped her movements, catching her breath before she moved herself from the silicone toy, leaning over, her breasts dangling in Y/N’s face as she undone the ties before removing the gag. Leaning down to kiss Y/N fiercely before moving from her completely, Y/N’s eyes remained on Wanda as she walked towards the bathroom, hearing as the shower turned on before joining her.

“So, for your graduation, how many tickets can you get?” Natasha asked as Y/N looked at her curiously. “Carol and Wanda want to come and see you get your diploma.”

“Well, I already got four.” Y/N informed her as she sipped her drink after visiting her sister after college.

“That’s great, but what if Kate wants to come?” She asked Yelena who just shrugged.

“We’re not that close.” She told the two, causing them to scoff.

“Whatever!” Y/N exclaimed as Nat agreed.

“And who are you seeing?” Yelena asked, turning the attention on Y/N. “Don’t think you hid that bite mark very well, and it’s only Monday.”

“It was no one.” Y/N answered as Nat turned to her, a scolding glare on her face.

“Please tell me it wasn’t Sharon.” She told the younger one as Yelena watched with a smirk on her face.

“No!!” Y/N yelled. “It wasn’t.”

“Good, because I haven’t forgotten what she did to you.” Nat told her sternly, Yelena was about to talk but Y/N cut her off.

“I haven’t either.” Y/N said slowly as she placed her cup on the table, grabbing her keys and phone before standing up. “Thanks for the drink.”

“Y/N.” Nat tried as she followed her younger sister to the door. “I’m sorry, I just hated seeing you hurt.”

“I’ll see you.” Y/N spoke emotionlessly before leaving the house, slamming the door behind her. Nat turned to see Yelena stood there with a hard glare and her arms crossed.

“You need to stop bringing her up.” Yelena told her.

“I am just trying to protect her.” She yelled as Yelena chuckled.

“And bringing up the past will do that? Protect her from the pain.” Yelena sneered before she disappeared down the hall to her room.

“Y/N?” Wanda was shocked to see the younger woman leaning against her car. “Are you ok?” She asked as she approached her.

“Yeah, I’m ok.” Y/N answered her with a smile, one that Wanda knew was forced.

“Come inside and talk to me.” She said as she took her hand, leading her inside her home. Leading her through to the kitchen before getting a couple of sodas from the fridge.

“Where are the boys?” Y/N asked as Wanda smiled.

“They are at karate practice.” Wanda rolled her eyes. “Vision wanted to enroll them and I didn’t have a say because he did it on Friday without even consulting me.” She watched as Y/N put her can down on the counter before she approached the older woman, trapping her between the counter and herself.

“Then.” Y/N gripped her jaw, lips ghosting her own, a new found confidence in which Wanda couldn’t wait to diminish but allowed her to have her moment. “We can help each other out because I need something. A distraction if you must.” Her other hand moved to Wanda’s hip, brushing the skin beneath the cloth. “So, be a pretty woman and strip for me.”

“It’s cute when you think you’re in charge, kitten.” Wanda taunted, gripping Y/N’s wrists and removing them from her body. “You know, mommy’s always in charge, now be a good girl and get on your knees for me.” She gripped Y/N’s neck, squeezing lightly before moving Y/N to her knees. “Now, if you can make me cum quick with that pretty little mouth, I will reward you kitten.” Y/N watched as Wanda undone her jeans, pulling them down along with her underwear, watching as Y/N licked her lips before she soon dove in, sucking on her clit harshly as Wanda’s hand went to her hair, gripping it tightly as she pushed Y/N impossibly closer. Her moans filled the room as Y/N moved to thrust her tongue into Wanda’s entrance, her nose applying just the right amount of pressure to her bundle of nerves. “You look so pretty on your knees for me.” She sighed as Y/N devoured her like she was her last meal. Moving her hips, using Y/N’s face for her own pleasure. “I am so close, kotenok.” She gasped as she ground her hips down harder, her thighs clenching together as Y/N remained, making sure she completed her task. “Y/N!” Wanda screamed as she came on Y/N’s face, sighing as Y/N lapped up her juices before she helped Wanda with her underwear and jeans.

Once Y/N stood before her, she used her thumb to wipe any of her arousal that had failed to go in Y/N’s mouth, forcing the digit past her lips, groaning as Y/N sucked on her thumb, keeping eye contact with the older woman.

“Fuck!” Wanda groaned. “If I wasn’t supposed to pick up the twins soon, I would have you on your hands and knees, taking my strap as I fuck you mercilessly.” She smirked as Y/N groaned at her words. “But, that will have to wait darling.” She spoke as she pushed Y/N back slightly. “I’ll see you at your graduation, kitten.” She kissed Y/N’s cheek before leading her to the door, grabbing her own keys before watching as Y/N got in her car and drove off.

Y/N was actually rather nervous about graduating, although she had worked years to get to this point, it was rather daunting. So as she prepared herself for the big day, already packed up her room ready to move back home. Already dressed in her shirt and tie, ready to put on the gown before heading towards the quad to see her family and Wanda.

“Do you think she’s nervous?” Yelena questioned as Nat chuckled.

“Of course she will be.” She smirked as Yelena nodded, watching how Wanda was looking around the quad, in hopes to see Y/N before the ceremony as Nat was hung on Carol’s arm.

“Here she is.” Carol told the three as she spotted Y/N approaching already in her cap and gown.

“Hi.” She greeted them nervously, both Nat and Wanda watched with a smirk for completely different reasons, and Yelena never failed to see how Y/N checked out Wanda.

“How are you feeling?” Carol asked her as Y/N nodded with a nervous smile.

“Anxious but happy.” She answered her as Carol smiled.

“You’re going to do great.” Yelena told her as she pulled Y/N in for a side hug, not missing how Wanda looked at her too.

“Thanks.” She smiled as she looked at the three before checking the time. “I best head inside, the ceremony will be starting soon.”

“We will see you inside.” Nat told her with a gentle smile, the four of them watching as she disappeared through the crowd. As Nat and Carol walked ahead, arm in arm, Yelena remained beside Wanda, walking at a slower pace as they did not let Nat overhear their conversation.

“What’s going on with you and Y/N?” She asked quietly as Wanda took a deep breath, looking to see that Nat was in a deep conversation with Carol about something.

“Why?” Wanda asked, trying to play it off.

“I can tell that something is going on between the two of you, but I don’t want to see my baby sister get hurt.” Yelena told her. “She has more to lose if Nat finds out.”

“So do I.” Wanda told her as the two stopped, Yelena watching her closely. “I am in love with her and I don’t want to ever lose her.”

“Ok.” Yelena nodded as she moved to start walking again alongside Wanda. “But you need to come clean to Nat, and you need to do it soon.” Yelena told her firmly before they reached their seats. The four of them watched as the ceremony went on, all standing and clapping as Y/N’s name was called out. Wanda couldn’t help but smile as she bowed slightly out of nerves before deciding to hide her face in embarrassment.

“I knew she would do something like that.” Nat chuckled quietly, watching as Y/N joined the other graduates.

As soon as the ceremony was over, everyone moved to the quad once more, waiting for the newly graduated with a huge cheer as she approached them. Yelena ran up to her and gave her a tight embrace as Nat soon followed, causing Carol to get out her phone.

“Photo time!” She yelled as Y/N tried to object but they all shook their heads no. Wanda approached as she pulled her in for a hug.

“We want to record this moment, kitten.” She whispered in her ear before pulling away, seeing a small blush appear on Y/N’s face. Once the pictures were done, Y/N couldn’t wait to get out of the gown, so she turned to the other four.

“I am going to give this back and finish packing my room.” She told them as they nodded. “I’ll be home around 9pm.” She informed Nat who nodded.

“I can help if you want?” Wanda offered coyly, neither Natasha nor Carol could see her ulterior motives.

“It’s ok Wanda.” Y/N tried as she shook her head persistently.

“I haven’t got the twins tonight and I am bored anyways.” She told her. “Besides, you help me with work around the house all of the time.”

“But you pay me.” Y/N reminded her.

“Consider this a gift, kotenok.” Wanda told her before turning towards the other three. “I’ll drive back with Y/N.” Nat nodded as Yelena gave her a stern look before the three retreated to the car as Y/N and Wanda headed in the opposite direction. As the familiar walk to the dorm was silent, there was an atmosphere between the two of them.

“We should tell Nat about us.” Y/N broke the silence as they walked. “I hate hiding us from her and I understand you’re scared of losing your best friend, but I think this is the right thing to do.”

“You’re right.” Wanda whispered as they stopped before Y/N’s room. “But for now, I have your reward kitten.” Wanda pushed her inside, closing the door behind her before pulling Y/N in by the tie and kissing her roughly before pushing her to sit on the bed. Soon stepping away to slowly undo her blouse teasingly, revealing her red lacy bra as Y/N watched her every movement. The sound of the fabric hitting the floor was yet so quiet but also loud. Soon, she moved to slowly unzip her skirt, slowly pushing it down to reveal a matching thong. Once the skirt was half way down her creamy thighs, the door burst open to reveal a confused Nat.

“Fuck.” Wanda scrambled to put her clothes back on as Y/N moved to approach her older sister, who was looking between the two.

“What is going on?” Nat questioned as she pointed between the two.

“Well.” Y/N started before she was interrupted.

“It looked like you were stripping for my baby sister.” She turned to Wanda who tried. “We babysat her when she was little. You. I don’t know what to think.”

“Nat.” Wanda whispered as Nat laughed hysterically before turning to Y/N.

“We talked about this, your crush on Wanda.” Nat started to raise her voice. “I told you that it would be pretty fucking messed up that you would still have this silly crush!”

“It’s not just a silly crush, Natasha!” Y/N yelled, causing Nat’s eyes to widen as she had never raised her voice like this before. “I am in love with her. I always have been and now.” She took a deep breath as Wanda stepped closer.

“I am in love with her too, Nat.” Wanda confessed, her confidence radiating through her voice before Nat started to laugh.

“Wanda, we used to make fun of her crush on you.” Nat told her, driving the metaphorical blade through her sister’s chest. “You used to tell me it was a cute teenage crush!!”

“I know I did!” Wanda yelled as she stepped closer to her friend. “I used to think that but now.” She rubbed her brow as her eyes flickered between the two sisters. “Something changed and I started to see her differently, it was after she came home after recovering, the way she explained to the twins what she was doing when she fixed that window, taking her time to explain the different tools she used. She was just different to me then, made me feel complete and safe, even the twins felt safe.”

“I don’t care Wanda.” Natasha spoke harshly. “She is my baby sister and I have practically raised her.”

“Yelena.” Y/N spoke up, causing Nat’s head to snap to her. “Yelena raised me, you were too busy with Maria to notice anything other than the parts you could pick apart, the parts you could take the piss out of.”

“Y/N.” Nat tried, guilt in her eyes as Y/N shook her head, stepping closer to her.

“You can cut me out, I don’t care. I have Yelena and Kate, but don’t you dare even think of taking it out on her. She has been your best friend since before I was born! So don’t you dare throw away that friendship over this.” She seethed before she walked out of the room, seeing Yelena and Carol approach her.

“Hey, we were just coming to see what was taking Nat so long.” Carol spoke up as Yelena gave Y/N a sad look, already seeing the pain in her sister’s eyes.

“She is in the room with Wanda.” Y/N told her before walking away from the two, Yelena was already speed walking to the room.

“What the fuck did you do?!” She yelled, causing the two women to jump. “Y/N has just walked out like she has just been told her best friend had died!”

“She and Wanda have been sneaking around behind everyone’s back.” Nat told her as Yelena pursed her lips. “Behind my back.”

“Yeah? I know that.” Yelena told her.

“You knew?” Nat asked shakily as Yelena nodded. “And you never told me?”

“It wasn’t my place to tell.” She told her coyly. “Besides, have you noticed the change in both of them, how happy they are together. Did that even cross your small narrow mind.”

“Lena.” Nat tried as Yelena shook her head.

“You should make this right with the two of them, if you love them both as much as you claim.” She told her, Nat looked back at Wanda, an apologetic expression on her face.

“Go.” Wanda told her, shooing her to the door. “Go and make it right with your sister.”

“But.” Nat started as Wanda smiled.

“We’re ok.” She reassured her with a gentle smile. Nat soon raced out of the door to find her sister, soon finding her sat out on the bench, fiddling with her buttons like she always did when she wore a long sleeve shirt.

“Y/N.” Nat spoke softly as she approached. “I’m sorry I blew up on you like that.” Y/N remained silent as Nat continued. “I just, Wanda and I have been together through everything and I don’t want to lose either of you.” Y/N laughed a little before turning to her.

“Great apology.” She sneered as Nat was taken aback by her tone. “I wasn’t really considering that, just a last thought, just like I always am with you.”

“Y/N, please just hear me out.” Nat pleaded as Y/N looked away, the silence was deafening between the two of them. “I never wanted to lose you, but when we lost our parents, I was thrown into the role of guardian. Yeah, Yelena was graduating high school at the time but I wasn’t ready to step up so I pushed you away.” She looked ahead before continuing. “I guess I never really thought of you growing up, I thought you would always be the annoying kid that I resented but you’re not. You’re this amazing person, and I just want what’s best for you and if you and Wanda truly feel how you say you do, then go for it. You both deserve to be happy.”

“I still don’t think I can forgive you.” Y/N whispered. “And I don’t think I can come back home either.”

“Y/N.” Nat pleaded as Y/N stood up.

“I just.” She breathed as she looked at her older sister’s distraught face. “I need time to be away from you. I just need space.” With that she walked away as she spotted Carol and Yelena approach, squeezing Yelena’s hand as she walked past her to her room where she found Wanda.

“Y/N.” She spoke as she cupped her face. “Talk to me baby.”

“I am numb.” She replied as Wanda listened to everything Y/N was telling her.

“Move in with me.” Wanda suggested, forcing her to look in her eyes as she saw her about to protest. “Move in with me.” She caressed her cheeks as she spoke. “The twins love you and it would be perfect to wake up beside you, seeing that smile every morning is all I want, hearing your voice everyday would be heaven.” She smiled slightly. “We will be living our little piece of heaven from when we stayed here together.”

“Ok.” Y/N whispered. “I’ll move in with you.” Wanda smiled before she leaned up and kissed her passionately before the two decided to start moving the boxes down to Y/N’s car, after Wanda stole a pair of Y/N’s joggers to wear instead of her skirt and heels. Ready to start a new chapter in their relationship.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #marvel #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda x you #wanda x reader #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #natasha romanoff

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thoughtsfullofbooks · 10 months

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Okay I need to talk about this scene in Good Omens bc I haven’t stopped thinking about it since it came out.

In the mini episode of episode 2 (the Job one) there are a lot of great parts to it which include things like Bildad the Shuite, Crowley protecting the kids (and honestly Ty in general) and Crowley admitting that he is, truly, lonely on Earth as a demon. But the part that doesn’t get talked about enough (or for all for that matter) is the sudden tonal shift that occurs at the end of the episode when Crowley and Aziraphale are sitting on the cliff.

Throughout the episode, each has smug moments with the other, almost teasing in their own special way, (when the goats turn back, when Crowley saves the kids with Azira’s “I knew it!”, etc) but I think the one that stands out the most is when Azira is eating the ox when the storm rages on and Crowley is drinking and asks which side Azira is on. When Aziraphale starts to question God’s choice regarding Job, Crowley smugly states “that’s just how it started for me. See you in Hell.” Obviously Crowley didn’t mean it, he only said it to ruffle Azira’s feathers (perhaps literally), but Aziraphale obviously took it to heart and didn’t pick up the smug sarcasm.

Now the part that I would like to talk about the most is after everything with Job is resolved and Aziraphale lied to Gabriel about the children, it obviously sits heavy on his conscious as only a moment later he resigns himself to the fact that Crowley is there to take him to Hell. BUT the sudden tonal shift that occurs I think shows a lot about how much the two know each other in just a short amount of time (for them at least, canonically this is only the third time they’ve met). Crowley should be happy and all smiles when they meet at the cliff, he got Azira to lie to the other angels, he successfully tempted him to eat human food, and he got to somewhat disobey Hell’s orders by doing (what he will never admit) good deeds, but he’s not happy.

He immediately senses Aziraphale’s obvious distress at being a “bad” angel and quickly reassures him that “I’m not taking you to Hell, angel.” Even though he had his little jab before about meeting again in Hell, I don’t think it registered in Crowley’s mind that Aziraphale didn’t, couldn’t, understand that you could joke about something like that with another holy, or unholy, entity without repercussions. But after seeing Azira so distressed and resigned to his fate of Hell I think he realized that he needed an abrupt change of tone in order to not scare his angel away. That’s why he spoke so gently in this scene and tried to comfort Aziraphale that, while it may be lonely what they have, at least they now have each other.

I think people need to talk about this scene more

#I will analyze every scene of this show until season three is announced #so help me neil gaiman #good omens #crowley #good omens season two #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #aziracrow #david tennant #michael sheen #neil gaiman

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sanjoongie · 7 months

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Warrior God

ღPairings: Choi San × Reader(f) ღGenre: God au, Chinese Zodiac influenced, also anime influenced ღTrope: e2l (perhaps if i continue this???) ღWord count: 1,427 ღWarnings: fighting anime style, suggestive dialogue, reader has a dungeon apparently ღRated: 18+ MDNI ღSummary: The Wolf God has recently been taking down the other god's kingdoms one by one, and your kingdom is next. Or at least, that's what he thinks ღDedication: @mejuii @downtoamagicalland my speedy betas, thank you loves ღA/N: this was burning in my skull after watching San's warrior cover, so I had to get it out! Enjoy~

“Mistress, he’s coming,” Seonghwa called from the window of your tower, no need to hold back the diaphanous window coverings for a storm was approaching.

“Then it is time for you to go, Seonghwa,” You commanded, finishing tying up your sash from your pants.

Seonghwa rushed to your side, placing his hands over yours, not wanting to miss one moment of your preparations. “I will not leave your side,” he insisted.

You gripped his chin in your hand harshly, almost comically squishing his cheeks together. His large eyes raised to meet yours. “Are you questioning my authority right now?”

Seonghwa’s eyes moved downwards in subservience. “Never, Goddess, but--”

Your hand let go of him but instead patted his head. “You know why you must go. Now go.” You motioned with your chin towards your door.

Seonghwa’s lips parted, as if he wanted to speak more words but your face was hard for the upcoming battle and Seonghwa knew he could not afford to distract you with soft facts of love and adoration. “As you command, Mistress.” He bowed lowly, hand behind back and against his stomach and was gone in a flurry that his rabbit spirit afforded him.

ღღღ

San strode through the gates of your castle, confident steps as his warrior army surrounded him. His sharp eyes quickly assessed the battlefield and found there was only one body to meet him in this assault.

“Did you send everyone away, Goddess?” San barked across the courtyard as he continued to sweep inside. “Afraid I’ll kill all the people you protect?”

“Yes,” You replied melodically, “I did send all my people away. If they remained, they would get killed.”

San’s broad stance spoke of confidence. His jacket and chains of leaving his mortal life still clung to him. “I would have thought that the Horse God would be much more sure of her powers.”

The laughter that escaped your lips bubbled up in your chest and grew and grew in power. Soon the entire courtyard was full of your borderline crazy laughter. San at first was smiling, as if he was waiting to be let in on the joke and then slowly it dimmed into confusion.

“I dismissed my people so that I can let loose my powers, San,” You cooly informed him. You pushed off your robe, left only in a sleeveless shirt and baggy pants. Your horse tattoo ran along your back, where your shirt did not cover, only wrapping around your torso, with loose sleeves dangling down your arms. Your magic, which was bright purple in color, waved around you, airy and whimsical.

San’s followers quickly pulled off his jacket, revealing the majority of San’s tattoos. His with stark black against his golden skin. A wolf’s contenance sat on his left breast. He snarled like a wolf, pounding his chest and clenching his fists. His power appeared as if blue fire, raging like flames all over his body. His followers shrunk back at the heat and he almost killed the few that had aided in removing his jacket and chains.

“I shall acquire your kingdom, just like I took the Ox’s and the Tiger’s,” San growled. But his fingers encompassed his wrists. He still felt his mortality, clearly.

You tilted your head, cracking your neck loudly. “You just received your godhead, Wolf. I have had mine for a millenia. Do you worst.”

San surged forward with a roar, his warriors behind him like an oncoming wave. The sky crackled and when San’s fist struck, lightning hit the ground around you, several forks striking San’s followers.

You stood, not moving an inch, your power making a smooth barrier in front of you. San’s face was only a hairsbreadth away from yours but he could do nothing to get closer. Like in slow motion, San’s fist had hit your barrier but the force that was reflected back to him--his own power mixed with your own--sent him flying back, pummeling through the crowd behind him. He hit the wall of your castle hard. Cracks radiated from his form there.

“You will not touch a hair on my head, Choi San,” You said calmly. You flicked your wrists, one hand and then the other. All of San’s followers poofed in a cloud of smoke, a horse’s bellow echoing through the courtyard. It was only you and he left now.

But San’s confidence had not drained yet. He smirked slowly, drawing up only one side of his lips. “I’ll have my fingers tangled up in your hair with your mouth on my cock, Horse God. It is my destiny.”

You laughed under your breath, a smirk pulling at your lips now. You shoved your hands into the pockets of your baggy pants and casually strolled to where San was, still embedded in the stone wall. “Is that why you’re here? To bed me?”

San shook his head, hauling himself out from the hole he made. “No, I am here to take your kingdom and YOUR godhead. But I’ll have you too, while I’m at it.”

You held your arms out to your side, bent at the elbow, palms up. “You know, that’s not half a bad idea, Wolf God.” You bring your palms together. Your purple magic rushed in, surrounding San. His arms snap to his side and his legs are held together. San struggled to get free, his blue flames like an ember along his body, but not strong enough to battle you. “I think I’ll bind you in my dungeon and use your tongue for relief.” You walked to where San was held, using your index finger to raise his strong chin. “Think you could do that for me?”

The blue fire that burned within San’s eyes, within his soul made you excited. Your power exploded and his blue magic exploded from his body. Your hair and clothes moved with the pure, undiluted power radiating from San. “I came here to ruin you!’ He shouted.

You took careful steps back as San staggered forward. His power continued to stream from his body, any sweat steaming off his skin. He walked as if he was underwater but that was simply your own power holding him back. You didn’t even have to make it so, it simply was. San walked you to the front of your tower, grunting and bearing his teeth as his arms shook to cage you between them. You smiled coyly up at him. He wasn’t even aware that his movements were only allowed because you were curious as to what he was up to.

“This isn’t right,” He groaned, his voice low with rawness. His accent had changed, reverting to the language of his people when he was a mortal.

Your coy smile grew into a confident one, the tips of your lips curling upwards. “Do you feel it, San?”

Your eyes traveled down to his chest, using a finger following the tip of his wolf’s ear on his chest. “Do you feel yourself weakening?”

San’s eyebrows furrowed inwards, both in confusion and worry. “No, I--”

Your smile is now a hysterical grin. “Since the moment you stepped through my gate, my power has been siphoning yours. I’ve been sipping from your godhead. The more power you exude, the more I drink, the more powerful I become. Why do you think I’ve been doing this for so long, hmm?”

San’s eyes become unfocused as he searches deep inside himself and finds that the well of his power is almost dry. “How?!” he demanded in disbelief.

You flicked his nipple and laughed softly. “I’m not about to tell you all my secrets, silly wolf. I’m about to have you trapped in my dungeon.”

“Do-don’t…” San’s head tipped downward to his chest, his weakness finally hitting him as your power began to let him go. If you took away his godhead completely, he would no longer be welcome in this kingdom of the gods.

You pushed San’s arms away from barring your movement. You flicked your finger again and your power carried San’s body behind you, as you began the climb down to your dungeons. “Don’t worry. You’ll get used to it. Soon, you’ll be just like Seonghwa. A little doggy for me.”

Your power surrounded the entire grounds of your castle, flowing through the very walls, lighting up the surrounding forest and river with purple light, and then just as quickly, your body absorbed it completely and neatly. That was the signal for your people to come back. The battle was over. But your night had just begun.

Taglist: @hijirikaww @flurrys-creativity @mingsolo @starlitmark @stardragongalaxy @k-pop-ology Permanent suffer with me tag: @smallfrye

#kvanity #kwritersworldnet #pirateeznet #cultofdionysusnet #ateez scenario #choi san scenario #atz scenarios #choi san scenarios #choi san x reader #ღatz #topaz's work

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pozerjacket · 2 months

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OC Associations

Tagged by @shivsghost Ty for thinking of me ;w;

Kauri Stunzer aka Artees , 25, Night City legend/Merc/licensed PI

Animal: Crocodile personality traits embody aggressiveness and patience

Colours: black

Song: Swerve City by Deftones

Number: 9

Day or Night: Night

Plant: Calla Lilly

Smells: Vanilla, chocolate

Gemstones: black opal

Season: spring

Places: cities

Foods: ox tail, grapefruit

Astrological sign: aries

Element: fire

Drinks: pancake smoothie, whiskey in apple cider

I tag @grimmnetworks @thenocturnalblossom @nemiepies @itzsassha @another-corpo-rat @vampiremilfs @clusterfxckedbysirens @elfjpeg @vox-monstera @medtech-mara @grymkoena @imaginarycyberpunk2023 @luvwich @drovenna @androgymess @fonfan121 @blackskorpi0n @wanderingaldecaldo @ellfiend @nncc77 @ghostoffuturespast

#kauri stunzer

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blueberrymffn · 3 months

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A fic for @the-centennial-husbands-bigbang I had the pleasure of working with @temporary-lover for the art on this fic! Pairing: Dream/Hob

Rating: E Word Count: 48k Tags: Friends to Lovers, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Soul Marks, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Eventual Happy Ending, Hob Gadling POV, Soul Mates.

Read On Ao3 or Dreamwidth Summary:

When Hob Gadling made a drunken deal with a mysterious man in a pub, he didn’t expect anything to come of it. Waking up the following morning with a golden mark on his wrist was a shock, though less than finding out that he couldn’t die. Who had he made a deal with, and what did he want? His Stranger was far from forthcoming, so he’d have to figure it out himself. That his mark was not just a passkey to an underworld of supernatural beings but the sign that he wasn’t meant to spend eternity alone was enough to send him down paths he never knew existed and ask more questions than were answered. Who, or more importantly what was his Stranger, and did the mysterious man know who Hob was destined for?

(An AU where only immortals have soulmarks that mark their species/type as well as their partner, and Hob has something no one has seen before) Chapter 1 below

When Hob Gadling had woken up, hungover and sore, sleeping in the straw of the White Horse’s stable he had thought nothing of it, save that he’d drunk through all his coin again, or his friends had. The memories of the night were slow enough to return, but the central focus of them had been the mysterious lord who had taken his boasting and jest with great seriousness. The man hadn’t batted an eye when he’d promised to meet him 1489, as if it were entirely normal. A fool, clearly, as most of the gentry were, or having him on. It didn’t matter, in any case. They’d both be in the ground by then, try as he might to avoid it.

It wasn’t until hours later, having bartered a ride on the back of an ox cart headed toward his family’s stead, that he noticed the mark on his wrist - and only then because it glinted in the sun. He squinted against the brightness, turning his arm so the mark was in shadow. The thin skin over the veins of his left wrist now bore a strange, twisted mark that he couldn’t identify. He thought perhaps it was a letter, one he didn’t recognise - not like any brand for thieving or darker deeds, and in the wrong place besides. Plus it didn’t hurt; it looked painted on, like gold accents in church art. Scratching at it had no effect whatsoever, though he tried more than once during the hours in the cart.

Not until the glint of it in the flam of a candle caught his eye again at home that evening did he put this strange design and the strange lord together as a possibility. Had he sworn some service to the man that he was too drunk to remember, was this a mark of a bondsman, somehow wrought in gold? Had the man somehow been serious about meeting again?

Had he even been a man at all, and did he now bear the devil’s mark?

Sleep came uneasily that night and for many more after. Hob took to tying a strip of fabric around his wrist to hide the mark but in the course of heavy labour it dislodged often enough. He needn’t have worried; long hours spent in the sun tanned his skin and bronzed the strange little sigil until its glittering dimmed and none would look askance at it, if ever they noticed it was even there.

In time he forgot about it entirely, until one sleepless night somewhere in France in the stinking war camp of an idiot king, he realised with a start that he’d been to and from this war for far too long. The way the mind wandered when sleep threatened illuminated many things, and he thought about the young man who’d been rationing out bread. Familiar, he was, so Hob had asked his name and the lad gave it and his town. At the time it had meant nothing, his mind had accepted that knowledge without incident until now when he realised that the John Hooper who’d come all the way from Ipswich to sell his sword had looked like that… decades ago.

Somehow the understanding that the strange lord had not spoken in jest did not feel like a sudden recognition, rather something to which Hob’s innermost self simply reacted with ‘well, that does explain a few things’.

That devil’s mark protected him through to the end of the Hundred Years’ War.

Luckily in the times that followed, the fashions of the day hid the golden mark from the world. It was for his eyes only; a gift from the stranger he had now seen thrice and of whom he knew little more than at the start. Hob had stopped thinking of it as a mark of Satan, as the devil itself seemed a strange concept when you were immortal. What threat was damnation when you’d never pass under the earth? Fae then, perhaps, or some god or power he did not yet understand. It mattered not, and was a constant reminder in the mornings when he dressed of how immensely lucky he was.

Until he was not.

London never seemed so positively dreary and constantly sopping wet when Hob had seen it all from the inside of a carriage. He had looked down these narrow, dark alleys with disdain from his high horse and gave no thought to those that scrabbled for their very existence amongst society's dregs. Would that he had known of their plight, done something for them, when he was a man of means. It was difficult to see how he ever could be again, having pawned the last of his precious belongings, stolen from the Gadlen estate, nearly a year ago. The warm cloak he had bought with that money had been stolen from him by two young, strong lads not a fortnight past. Tonight it would have been a blessing.

Hob was soaked to the bone, curled up with his knees to his chest against a brick wall that seemed warmer than others that he’d made his bed against these last few years. A kitchen was on its other side, or a good hot fireplace. Oh what he would give for mere moments beside a crackling fire - but he had nothing left to give. No one on this street had, they only clustered here because the overhanging roofs above the alley offered some small semblance of shelter from the downpours of this most rainy summer.

Sharp, angry voice hollered from where the alley met a larger way, echoing on the stone and brick but not going far through the dampness of the air. Drunkards, seeking a short way home. Brave ones, to walk where angels feared to tread. He heard laughter, closer, and then the panicked begging of a man he knew by voice more than sight; old Nathaniel was mad as a hatter and twice as daft. His unintelligible protests ended in a strangled cry, followed by silence broken only by the pattering rain. Then footsteps, coming closer.

There was hardly any light in the alley, most of the moon’s glow dampened and bare candles near windows did not much at all. Even so the darkness became darker still as two men emerged from the gloom, looming over him. Fighter though he had long been, Hob hadn’t eaten in four days, drunk clean water in half again as many, and even the idea of trying to fight off robbers or murderers or drunkards looking for sport filled him with a bone-deep weariness and a deeper apathy.

One of the men forcibly hauled him up by front of his ratty, soaking wet shirt and hissed something to his compatriot in a language Hob didn’t understand. The other man laughed and Hob belayed whatever action the start of his movement implied by raising his hands to cover his face. He’d been beaten before for what he now was, he could take it again, but he had half a mind to keep his face intact.

The second man gasped and said something to his fellow in a hushed tone. He grabbed Hob’s forearm with a grip like iron that made him gasp and held him up, high enough to strain his shoulder. They conferred together for a moment and then simply released him, dropping him back to the ground and hurrying on their way.

Hob collapsed back against the wall, panting in relief, and felt over his arm for signs of a break. There were none, his bones seemed sturdy enough, but the flesh was tender and already bruising though he couldn’t see it in the dark. He could see the sigil on his wrist, however, visible to the naked eye despite the gloom even though it bore nothing so sinister as a light of its own. Had they seen it? More intriguingly, had they known it?”

Questions kept him up until morning came and with it a stop to the rain. Hob gathered himself up to head off and seek food, or work, or anything really besides sitting alone with his sorrows. A new place to sleep was paramount, as this one was no longer safe. Mad Nathaniel’s old, skinny body was discarded on the cobbles near the mouth of the alley, his face unnaturally pale with more than death although signs of blood or injury had long since washed away in the night. There was nothing he could do for the man except ponder the nature of mortality, and the value of his gift.

Hob spent weeks trying to find work to no avail, too weak for manual labour and none believing him when he spoke desperately of education or skills. The night of his meeting with the stranger approached steadily and in this year of 1689 the White Horse was no tawdry establishment; it boasted fine foods and foreign wines for finer, foreign guests. It was no tavern where a homeless lout could buy a penny ale. His only hope was to catch his stranger outside and, failing that, sneak in through the kitchens.

He had not expected his stranger to stand up for him, to command that he be unhanded and allowed to stay. The coldness in the mysterious man’s eyes seemed to have settled into something less distant even as he listened to Hob’s tale of woe with similar detachment as always. Nonetheless, every time a barmaid passed by he raised his hand and politely asked for more food for his guest.

Their meeting was over as swiftly as ever and with it the warmth and safety of a roof over Hob’s head for the first time in near thirty years. He stood as his stranger did and made to follow, to slink back out into the darkness. The stranger stopped him, grabbing his wrist and pushing him back into his seat with a strength Hob had not expected from the lithe, little man.

“You will stay, and recover. None will assail you,” he said curtly, “Dream well tonight, Hob Gadling.”

Then he was gone, and Hob sat in abject confusion. His wrist ached like he’d been stung by a bee and he wondered perhaps if some strange magic had passed between them, from his stranger to that strange mark. It occupied his thoughts until the barmaid returned with a pasty and another mug of ale. She seemed to look right through him although her words were polite and serviceable enough. So he stayed, until the crowd thinned and the innkeepers began cleaning up around him. The same woman who still seemed to look over his shoulder at nothing bid him follow and, to his astonishment, showed him to room above without question of payment. Hob was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, no matter how mysterious, and he learned again two of life’s simplest pleasures; a hot bath and a good night’s rest.

He resolved to ask his stranger by what means he had arranged such courtesies when next they met. As years passed he became ever more thankful for them. Something so simple as clothes washed and a good shave had opened the opportunity again for hiring, allowed him the ability to rise back up from the mud and put all that he had learned before to work rebuilding his life and better planning for the future.

It also granted him the gift of boldness for their next meeting. Hob was centuries old, he should by now be so inured to life that the ghostly memory of the stranger’s touch on his wrist did not drive him to madness in the dark and quiet moments before sleep. Yet it did. Nearly every night, it did, and when he was alone and not dressed to the standard of the day he would roll up his sleeve and stare at the golden sigil on his wrist. The nature of it still eluded him, save that it was something of a protection, or luck - maybe it was the source of his immortality itself. Yet another question to ask of his mysterious stranger.

As all good plans of men, his machinations had swiftly gone awry. Hob left the White Horse with all due haste after the confrontation with Lady Johanna’s men, quick on the heels of his stranger who had said neither yes nor no to finding a new venue. Their banter had never had chance to give way to his tales of the century, or anything deeper. So many questions still unanswered in a meeting cut short to minutes rather than hours. That could not be all he had for a century, it couldn’t. Yet when he exited the tavern mere seconds after his stranger, the man in black was nowhere to be found.

He cursed a string of oaths so foul and befuddled by lifetimes of vocabulary as to make a sailor blush in any century.

But he was not one to be deterred by hardship, not by a long shot, and the stranger’s words as always weighed heavily on his mind. All of them had, both of a personal nature and not. Liquidating his assets in the shipping business was one matter and more than a handful of his peers thought he’d gone mad - perhaps he had, but not for the reasons they presumed. If his stranger would deign to give him advice, he would by all means take it. If his stranger would bid him take caution, he most certainly would do just that.

Having Lady Constantine investigated was a simple matter when one had the means. Both would-be detectives and scoundrels were easily hired in scads about London these days and he had the money to invest in both quantity and quality. Hers was a storied family it seemed, if troubled, and Lady Johanna was the most vicious of the lot in generations, if rumours held a grain of truth.

Hob had long since sought to ignore the supernatural, a fool’s errand for an immortal, perhaps - but barest hint of witchcraft about him had him tied to a millstone and breathing pond water for days. That amorphous time until he became used to the suffering, the fading into nothingness and rising to awareness over and over, enough to shred the rope upon the stone between deaths was as real to him now as it had been over a century ago - enough so he had never taken to sea on any of his own ships, nor crossed the channel recently, and the very memory brought a cold chill with it. Such things were enough to dull a man’s interest in what lay beyond the mortal realm.

Now it seemed the realm of witches and witch-hunters had come for him.

That was how he had found himself in the plainest clothes he owned in a disreputable area where he was still well-dressed enough to catch the eyes of those he’d rather not. Being shanked in a dark alley was not in his plans for the day but seeming more and more likely by the moment.

His surveillance upon Lady Johanna and her cohorts had lead him to several strange places and stranger people; a madwoman who crowed about gods and demons but nonetheless knew more than she let on, a vicar who swore upon all that was holy that angels existed and he had witnessed the glory of god - of little use, in the end. Lastly, a man who sold goods he claimed were not of this world and asked for ephemeral things in exchange; concepts and thoughts and hopes for the future. Hob gave him nothing but his time for asking questions, as time was something of which he had no shortage.

In the end it had been Lady Johanna himself who had led him where he needed to go; a storefront that looked surprisingly well-kept for the area but equally well shuttered. His spy had assured him here was no password or secret sign. The Lady Johanna had merely knocked and been let in with hushed words and secretive looks, and all other comers had been passing strange as the urchin had put it. Hob had passed it a few times since, he was nothing if not patience, and never seen anyone about the place - it looked like no one had done business here for years, but then so did the entire street. If rumours were true, this was the centre of all occult practice in London. Hob would have thought they could do much better.

The third time was the charm and he had finally worked up his nerve to knock upon the heavy oaken door. It seemed to dampen the noise enough he hardly thought he’d been heard and was about to try again when the metallic dragging noise of a deadbolt sounded from anon and the door creeped open a hand’s span, held to the jam by a heavy bronze chain to keep it from opening wider. Whoever stood beyond, a proprietor perhaps, remained to the side of the door out of view and it took every fibre of Hob’s being not to lean in and try to catch a glimpse of them.

“Your hand, sir,” A woman’s voice said sharply from within.

He hesitated only a moment, before reaching his right hand in to the open space as if to shake hands with the woman. That earned him an exasperated noise in response.

“Your other hand, numbskull,” she snapped.

Hob, chastened and feeling entirely out of his element, offered the other hand instead. It was grabbed from within the shadows and his sleeve pulled up to bare the wrist. The mark on his skin had faded with the genteel and indoor nature of his work these days and stood golden and glimmering against paler flesh than usual.

The woman made a soft hum as if she were considering what she saw. “Well that is a strange one indeed,” she said and, with no further warning, dashed a tiny silver blade across his wrist.

It wasn’t deep enough to hurt and hardly drew blood, no deeper than a papercut, but he yanked his hand back in shock.

“Bloody hell, are you out of your mind?” he exclaimed, yanking the cuff of his sleeve down.

“Can’t be too careful these days. Come through, then,” she replied, nearly closing the door so she could unhook the chain to let him in.

The door was bolted and barred behind him which was none too comforting. Inside the shop belied its exterior entirely. It was not well-lit but was well-appointed with cases of curios and weapons that would not be out of place at the British Museum among the pharaonic masks. Part drawing room, part exhibit hall the place was immaculate and high-ceilinged - the floor above having been gutted for height and left with only a narrow balcony encircling the edges of the room. He was the only one there.

A sharp throat clearing noise brought his attention back to his erstwhile host. She was younger than he had expected; plump and dour and none too impressed with his existence. Her clothing was far more rich than the neighbourhood outside would imply, but he figured now little here was as it seemed.

“What are ya, then?” she asked, the lilt of her accent catching him off guard now; it had shifted to something older that he hadn’t heard in a good minute. Or century, perhaps.

“Uh… Name’s Robert,” he answered - stupidly, he realised, even as he said it and she gave him a nonplussed look.

“Nay. I mean, what are you,” she replied, “Your blood’s wrong, but the mark’s real.”

“I beg your pardon?” Now he was really feeling out of his depth.

“What turned you, and sent you here,” she said slowly, like he was a bit daft and he was starting to think he might be, “Cause it’s not a vampire, or a wolf, and your sigil doesn’t have traits of anything I bloody know.”

“No one sent me, I uhm… I found you through a mutual acquaintance, as it were,” he replied, trying to regain some of his composure and deciding not to name drop the Lady Johanna in case the two were friends, or something worse.

“Ah, so… You’re new, and you have no bloody idea. Wonderful,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest, “I’m Marie LaFontaine, and I’m not fucking French.”

“I didn’t think you were,” Hob said, eyeing her curiously. It had taken a moment but he had placed the accent and it shouldn’t have surprised him as much as it did, given the strange words that had so recently come out of her mouth. “York, mid-1500s?”

Marie’s obvious appraisal of him grew in consideration at that. “So you’re older than you look, then,” she replied, nodding her head.

“Much.”

“And you’ve just now decided to drop by?” she asked, “Must be nice.”

“It has been, sometimes, yes. Sometimes, not so much,” Hob replied with a smirk, starting to enjoy this little back and forth now that he was reasonably certain he was not going to be shanked in an alley or anything else even cruder. By this point in his life he was at the very least a good judge of people.

“Why seek us out now, if it’s going so well sometimes,” she said dryly.

“Because I was… accosted, as it were, by some sort of witch-hunter,” Hob replied, feeling it was best to leave his stranger out of it, “So I have been looking for answers, of a sort. Or at least information on such things. I have no desire to be caught in a jar and studied like a bug.”

“Man after my own heart,” she said, leaning back against a long counter that looked equal parts apothecary and bar top, “Constantine?”

“You know her?”

“Yes, she hardly knows me,” Marie replied, “And I like to keep it that way; Constantines have been a thorn in our side for centuries, for some more than others.”

“Right. You keep saying ‘our’ and I fear I really don’t know who you are,” Hob admitted, “Pretend like I am new, and just sent to you, like you thought; and explain to me as such. You… you knew what my mark was.”

“Well, I don’t know what your mark is,” Marie corrected him, “Bit singular, that. Usually they’ve got a signature to them that’ll at least tell me what you’re meant for, you know, angelic, demonic, fae, vampire, they’ve all got their little quirks.”

“I apologise, meant for?” Hob asked, blinking rather stupidly at her while simultaneously annoyed by her nonchalance.

Clearly she had the answers to questions he had pondered for millennia and they were so simple to her that she had no idea how to break the concept down for the uninitiated. The result was like pulling teeth.

“It’s your soulmark, idiot. You weren’t born immortal, were you?” she asked, and it sounded more like an accusation.

“No.”

“Then that cropped up one day, and you just never questioned what it was for?”

“Of course I questioned it, but I can ask myself in the mirror all I want and it won’t give me the bloody answers!” Hob snapped, exasperated by the back and forth.

“Whoever turned you is a right prick.”

“Yes, well… He’s a bit of an odd duck,” Hob said, rubbing sheepishly at the back of his neck. Somehow her calm answer made him feel even more of a mess, but he wasn’t about to apologise for snapping at her. “Are you going to tell me what it’s for?”

“Well, practically speaking; gets you in where mortals fear to tread. They can’t be proper faked, you see,” she said, “Show it to another of our kind and the old laws say to help you, or at the very least they can’t hurt you.”

Hob thought then back over a century to a night spent shivering in the rain, and those men he’d thought drunken youths. They had backed off, upon seeing his arm. The beggar man, whose name he misremembered now, had not been so lucky. Had they been immortals too? Hunting for something perhaps, if what Marie hinted at was true and there really were vampires or demons or god knew what skulking about London after dark.

“So others, like us… they’d show mercy on seeing it?” he asked curiously, “Stop what they were doing.”

She raised an eyebrow at him and he did not grant the unspoken request for details. It was long enough ago that he had none, in any case. Immortality had not granted him the ability to see in the dark; he wouldn’t have been able to describe the men even the morning after.

“They certainly should,” Marie answered, “Especially if they don’t recognise the mark; if you were bound to some house they had quarrel with, perhaps not.”

“Bound?” he asked, automatically looking down at his wrist, “I’m not bound to anything, that I know of that is.” His stranger had always made it very clear that it was Hob’s choice to live, and nothing more.

“More’s the pity, I hope you find them,” Marie replied, pushing off from the counter to head around behind it. She drew out a rolled up piece of what looked like parchment, tied with twine, from beneath it and rolled it out on the counter. “Come on then, I don’t bite.”

Hob approached and looked down at the scroll. Whatever it was he had expected, it wasn’t a map of London - and seemingly an updated one at that.

“Take a proper gander, memorise the red marks. Those are all places your mark gains you admittance, and aid if you seek it, with the promise that you’d do the same,” she said, glancing up at his face, “Maybe you’ll find your match there if you look around a bit.”

“My match?” he asked, focused intently on the map. He was a fair hand at memorising things, but it was a lot.

“Aye, do you really think you’ll face the slings and arrows of this world alone for eternity?” Marie asked incredulously, “None could. Someone out there has a mark like yours, or at least something like it. You’ll know it when you see it, or when they touch you.”

“Right…” Hob said slowly, nodding as if what she had said wasn’t completely insane, “And they’re meant to be what, exactly?”

Marie now clearly thought he was an idiot, and likely unworthy of his immortality, if the look she were giving him was any indication. She gave a longsuffering sigh and began rolling the map back up despite him having hardly gotten a look at it, but he knew a few of the red marks and committed them to memory - the one by King’s Cross was, he was reasonably certain, a rather exclusive gentleman’s club that never solicited new members. Apparently this was why; it was full of… of what? Immortals? He couldn’t imagine that everyone was like him, human and a bit blessed with longevity, because now every rumour and old wive’s tale of vampires, werewolves, and the bloody fae were crowding in his mind.

“Your soulmate, of a sort,” she said eventually once she realised he wasn’t just having her on and was legitimately out of his depth, “Usually romantic, sometimes not - more’s the pity for them folks, then.”

“Ah… Would’ve liked to know that a few centuries back,” he replied, those rumours and tales pushed out of his mind immediately by the thought of Eleanor, and their son.

“Yes, well, like I said; whoever as turned you is a right prick.”

“Or maybe, maybe he’s simply not around much?” Hob offered, unsure if he was on to something there or if he was going to sound like a numpty again, “I only see him every hundred years and he wants to know about… society, I suppose. Is there somewhere else he could be?”

“Aye, could be a fae save that your mark isn’t any of the high courts. A demon, but your mark isn’t that either,” Marie replied with a shrug, “There’s probably other things, but I’m no scholar. Look, we got a vested interest in protectin’ our own. Politics are a bit shite and all, but you made it this long you’ve got some sense. Muck about a bit, you might find someone as knows more than me. Doubt it, though.”

“A glowing recommendation of your own superiority,” Hob said dryly, some measure of wits returning to him at last as things began to slot into place in his worldview.

“Indeed. You know where to find me.” Hob knew a dismissal when he heard one, but hadn’t been given one that felt so final since Queen Elizabeth last sent him from court. With a jaunty wave, he slipped out of the building and couldn’t help but look over his shoulder as he took a circuitous route through the disreputable part of town. The world had grown quite a lot larger all of the sudden and with so many unknowns swirling about it, his security in his own safety was a bit shaken. His stranger, his maker, he corrected himself with the now more appropriate term had been very clear ‘you can be hurt, or captured’. It had seemed long odds when he was one man dithering about and becoming his own son but with a whole secret society, or underbelly of London, full of those like himself, perhaps exponentially older than himself, he had bigger things than the Constantines to worry about.

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ankhmutes · 11 months

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Bored at the Blue Ox (Joel)

I got bit with a bug, so figured I would share it with y'all. Of course, it is pure filth and smut so putting it under the cut away from under age eyes.

You're bored as fuck, and you figure you'd crash your dad's pool night with his best friend, Mr. Joel Miller.... and as every girl is, you came prepared.

Warning: this is for unprotected sex, swearing, drinking, and smoking. Figure I'd get it out of the way.

You walked into The Blue Ox, half-bored and wondering if your dad would mind you crashing his pool game with Joel. Your friends had bailed on you, you didn’t want to go to some dude bro’s frat party so you decided to check out Joel. It had been a hobby of yours, ever since you had finally realized how sexy his best friend Joel was. It had been in your senior year of high school, when you had started noticing little things. It wasn’t until you were ready to graduate from the University in the next town over that you had finally realized….

Joel Miller was SEXY. He was fuckable, and he probably knew exactly what he was doing with that dick. You had fantasized about him every summer, and now your chance had come. You had noticed him eyeing you last week when you had been washing your jeep in the driveway. You knew it was time.

“Hi, Daddy!” you called out with a grin, your eyes widening in delight at some of the eyes that had landed on your cute outfit. You had opted to go with a skirt, a tank top with a flannel tied around your waist for decency, the moment you had realized you had A Plan.

“Hey Kiddo!” your dad called out with a grin waving you over. “I was just about to bail on Joel, you can take my place. I gotta go home, gotta leave early tomorrow.” Your dad kissed your temple and waved at Joel. “Gotta love you an’ your timing.”

You said your goodbyes to your dad, letting him know you’d be here and you’d go home straight after… “I mean, Joel’s right here and he can take me home if I drink too much or something. I mean, he’s right next door.”

And with that, your dad waved a thank-you to Joel, heading out of the door and leaving you alone with Joel.

Perfect.

You blinked your wide eyes at Joel, and asked what balls you were, and Joel nodded, pointing over at a ball with his pool cue as he worked on his cigarette, and took a sip of his beer.

“You’re stripes.”

“Okay, so it looks like I’ve got some work to do, hmm?” you asked with a smile as you leaned down, eyeing the balls on the table. You made sure to lean just right, so that a strap from your tank top fell slightly down your shoulder, baring the shoulder and making sure your boobs looked like they would fall out of your shirt. You had made a risky decision, not wearing a bra, and it looked like it would pay off.

Joel looked like he was ready to choke on his own drink, his eyes flicking down to your shirt, and then focusing on anything quickly, then returning to focus on your boobs yet again. It was clear he had noticed you and was interested, but he wasn’t saying anything about it, or making a move. You knew it had to be up to you to make the first move, but you decided to take your time.

You could see the light pink dusting Joel’s cheeks, and the slight shift in his posture. You were on a good start of making him very uncomfortable. You could see him adjusting his belt, picking up his burner phone, drinking his beer, lighting up a cigarette, anything to keep his hands busy and adjusting his jeans.

A few rounds of pool later, you decided to put on your flannel, tying up your hair with a random elastic. You had been lightly chatting with Joel about nonsense and bumming a cigarette or two from him, but this was time to get down to brass tacks, you were ready and hungry to be fucked, and he was not cooperating. You had to do something about it beyond playing it cute with the playful banter about school, summer, work, anything but the ox in the room.

“You’re killing me, Joel. Just really fucking me over.” You said with a pouty sigh as your voice groaned out your words as if he had been literally fucking you, your eyes glinting with delight as Joel blinked. His eyebrows furrowing even more with uncertainty, his pink lips twisted in a slight grimace. You weren’t sure if it was pain or horniness, you could see in his jeans something that could be a nice hard-on, but he kept moving around so much you couldn’t get a good look.

You decided to abandon your plan and be direct. Being subtle and flirty wasn’t quite doing it, so you decided to do one last shot. You lined yourself up, just right to where Joel was sitting on the bar stool against the wall with his drink, right where you needed to sink that last ball. You leaned forward, making sure your skirt was riding up just so, enough to show him a tantalizing peek of your panties- of what scrap of fabric could be called panties. You played with the cue, taking your time to make your shot. You made sure the cue slid slowly up and down, up and down… you decided to move your hips, parting your legs just enough..

Bingo.

You heard a small choke from Joel behind you, just as you made your shot. You were finally getting some kind of direct response from him at the sight of your drenched panties, you were sure he noticed how soaked your panties were. Hell, you were doing anything you could not to rub yourself up against the pool cue…You moved up and turned around to face him.

“Problem?” you asked, a sly smile dancing at the edge of your lips, your eyes half-lidded with a secret knowledge and understanding of what could happen if Joel played his hand. After all, you were doing everything in your power to break him, short of actually jumping on his dick in the bar, in front of everyone. You slid a tongue over your teeth, wetting your lips slightly as you finished up your last beer.

Hell, you wouldn’t mind. The bar was half-empty, everyone had migrated over to where the music was. It was just you and Joel in that dark corner, right near the lone bathroom.

“What are you doing?” Joel asked with a half-smirk that almost became a soft chuckle, his eyes dark and his tongue darting out to moisten his pink lips. You smiled and shrugged. His eyes glinted dangerously with amusement and heat as he started feeling his way around the situation. The air was thick and electric between you both.

“What does it look like? I’m bored…. Playing pool with you. Maybe I’ll just go to the bathroom. I mean, I’ve been drinking beer all night long, and look at that….” you walked up to Joel, picking up his beer and taking a sip, tilting the glass just enough that beer ran out and dripped down on your boobs. “Well look at that… I’m soaked right through.” you said with a smirk, putting down the empty glass. “Looks like I’ll need to get cleaned up. Mind helping me, Joel?”

Joel didn’t say a word, his mouth was slightly open in surprise, as you tilted your head to the bathroom door. You opened it, slapped a “out of order” sign on it, and slid inside. Now it was up to Joel, you mused as you took off your soaked tank top, putting your purse on the small counter and leaned forward, looking into the mirror to see if Joel would man up and get his balls together long enough to come in.

“If you wanted to fuck all you had to do was say so.” Joel said as he came in, his eyes taking you in with heated interest. You laughed and raised your brows, turning to face Joel. Joel exhaled slowly, his hands undoing his belt and zipper. You got on your knees, not wasting the brief window of time you had before someone would get suspicious enough and bang on the door.

You leaned forward, wetting his dick with your mouth, up and down and taking in the noises he was making while you sucked on his cock prettily, making sure not to smear your lipstick on him yet, you would smear something else on it in just a minute.

“Fuck.” Joel moaned out, his hands tangling in your hair, guiding you to the pace he liked. “Where did you learn this? You’re too good. Fuck.”

You hummed a noise of appreciation as Joel yanked you off his dick, turned you around and pressed you up against the door, his dick wet and pressing against your entrance.

“Please, Joel.” you whispered, your wetness had been dripping and soaking your panties through ever since you had seen Joel in the bar, and the hours of teasing him had only made things worse. Joel slid a hand up your thigh, down to your dripping entrance.

“Baby, you’re soaked. Fuck.” Joel grunted as he slid a finger in, then abandoning all decorum, he ripped your panties off with a loud rip, the scrap fluttering down and his dick slid into you hard, his hands moving to support you as you wrapped your legs around his waist and held on for the ride, Joel fucking you hard and deep up against the door, you weren’t sure if the hinges would hold. You could feel the door creak with each thrust.

You almost regretted doing it this way, it would be so fast, but you burned with the intense heat of the orgasms that he tore from you, his dick hitting that spot just- right- just-enough- to make you stutter and lose all sense of time, space, and there was nothing but you, Joel, and the intense heat of the sex. Your kisses were heated and filthy, his mouth seared on yours, muffling all of the screaming you had been doing, his dick filling you up just right with each thrust, making you gasp and moan loudly each time, tugging at his long graying hair with your hands, relishing the feel of his hair running through your fingers as you came over and over, with each thrust he made.

“JoelJoelJoelJoelJoelJoel…..”you moan his name, your mouth finding the spot between his neck and shoulder, clamping on and screaming, his body muffling your screaming as the biggest peak of your orgasm hit you like a fucking freight train on fire as Joel came so hard, you could feel it inside you, outside you, all over with every fiber of your being..your fingers raked over his back, you were sure you had left claw marks on his back and neck with your long fingernails.

Choo-choo Motherfucker, you giggle to yourself as you pant, Joel’s come dripping from your pussy, the juices smeared all over the place. You didn’t give a damn. You slid down from the door, and walked over to pick up your flannel, buttoning it up and taking the spare pair of panties from your purse.

“You came prepared?” Joel panted, glancing at your purse with a half-grin. “Did you plan this?”

“What do you think?” You smirked as you put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him for a moment as you leaned down, taking him in your mouth and giving him a slight blow-job, tasting the musk of yourself mixed in with his come. You cleaned him up good, and made sure to smear lipstick all over his now semi-soft dick, tucking him away and smirking as you saw some of your lipstick smeared on the band of his underwear.

“Of course I was prepared. You know where to find me, I’m going home.” you said as you leaned forward, cleaning yourself up quickly and exiting the bathroom. You pressed a small card in his hand, with your number written on it in bright blue sharpie, leaving Joel speechless inside. You didn’t bother to wait around, paying for your and Joel’s drinks.

You couldn’t wait to see his face when he saw the card:

Tag, you’re it. Come find fuck me.

As always I have to thank the amazing people who read this fic and anything I write. I love y'all and especially @chaotic-mystery who helped add a sprinkle of heat to this fic <3

#ankhmutes writes something #joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #dbf joel miller #dbf!joel

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maladaptive-ninja-returns · 5 months

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New World (5)

Itachi Uchiha x Reader Fluff

Summary: The world War has met its end and Itachi has returned to his village. He questions whether he should set down his roots here when he meets a stranger. Or rather, a stranger is forced upon him by fate.

Warnings: attempted murder, attempted flirtation, attempted insults, attempted threats of murder, attempted stealing of HEARTS

Word Count: Can someone send me pictures of their cats? I want to feel a little better before going back to work after the holidays

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

"Oof, Y/N! You look like you got smushed by one of the Oxen!" I wish I got smushed by one of the oxen. That would have been much easier to bear, you internally groan at yourself. Nami tries her best to comb the tangled mess that is your hair while forcing you to drink as much water as possible. She is visibly worried about the drowsiness still in your eyes as your steps wobble when you walk towards the courtyard to meet everyone else. The Bamboo villagers have already gathered there for the day. So has Naruto. Kakashi and Itachi are nowhere to be seen and Nami does not want to go look out for them while leaving you with people she does not trust much. "Where were you all night?" your friend whispers close to you, trying to comb out the stubborn knots before tying your hair in a braid. The pounding sensation in your brain has mercy on your sensory organs for a moment and lets Nami's worry slip in to let you form a sentence for a reply.

"I was-" you rub your eyes and crinkle your brows to think hard about last night- "I think I was behind the cottages somewhere." Your voice still croaks even after drinking all that water. There are nothing but judgmental glares coming from the Bamboo villagers; even Toge. "People should drink only till the point they can handle well," Izo announces to the group before helping the Chief get up on the ox. It takes you a minute to realise that comment is aimed at you. You want to hide behind Nami. The embarrassment is too much. "You are right, Izo-sama," Kakashi acknowledges the man, entering from the front gate of the rest house with a bag. Itachi follows him in, carrying a similar bag to Kakashi's. "People should only do so much as their capacity allows," former Anbu continues, "or they might find themselves drowning in embarrassment for being defeated by some small no-name...sake?" Izo averts his gaze and gets up on the ox. So does Fukaboshi. The rest of the caravan stares blankly at Kakashi. You want to feel offended but the heaviness in your head does not allow you to hold your frown for long. "Sumimasen," Kakashi chuckles, raising one hand in defeat and smiling at you till his eyes close, "would you like to rest a bit more?" You sigh and shake your head. "I'm fine. Let's go. Let me just go fill my bottle with more water." You do not wait for an answer and walk towards the corner that has a little earthen tank for drinking water. Everyone walks out of the front gate, save for Kakashi and Itachi. Kakashi nods at Itachi before following the rest of the group. You notice him standing there alone, your pace slowing down as you remember waking up alone on the wooden settee, curled up under Itachi's cloak. Ah, the cloak. You take the cloak out from your backpack and bring it forward to hand it over to its owner. "Arigato, Itachi-san," you bow a little, "I hope I did not cause trouble last night." Itachi takes the cloak and hands you a bottle of a tea-like liquid. "Must have been hard," Itachi speculates, opening his cloak and wearing it right there, "having a nightmare like that." You find it hard to look away from his eyes. They seem sincere with the question. You bring the cold bottle to your cheeks to let the heat seep out from them faster. "Have it now." Itachi nods at the bottle, sending a little warm stir in your stomach, "It will help with the...hangover." You look at the bottle, then back at Itachi. A part of you swirls on the inside on seeing him patiently waiting there for you. Without another thought, you open the lid and chug the sweet, cold liquid down your throat, letting it absorb the heaviness and heat from your body. The relieved sigh after the last gulp brings a hint of smirk to Itachi's lips. Your head does tiny repeated nods, looking at the empty bottle before you smack your lips. "Good," you admit, looking up at Itachi, "does this come in orange flavour?" .

Today's journey goes the same way; through the forests and rocky lands. The adults are unbothered on their oxen. Kakashi and Itachi have taken their place as usual. Naruto is ahead of the caravan today, and so is Toge. Kozuki is right next to Kakashi, trying to start a conversation. And Kakashi indulges in it. Around noon the caravan passes through another forest with a low-hanging fog. You and Itachi are walking at the back of the caravan. You are glad not to be bothered by Toge today, but him not running up to you with a new piece of conversation seems to bother you a little. Something seems off. That little unsettling thought also melts away. Could also be your company. The thought makes you smile and steal a glance at the man next to you. And while doing so you do not realise Itachi has raised his hand to signal you to stop; running right into his arm. Kakashi has also signalled the caravan to stop. Naruto and Toge stand frozen in their paths on Kakashi's signal, looking for any signs out of the ordinary. Everyone can sense it. The silence of this forest is defeaning. A little too deafening. The birds that were chirping, the animals that were skittering along the forest floor, all have gone silent. Kozuki has already drawn her twin daggers. You have taken out a kunai but are not sure if you still remember how to use it. The elders are also on their guard, waiting for a movement in the silence. There is a snap of a twig somewhere in the forest. And before anyone can make sense of it, a shadow flies right past the Chief, leaving a scratch on his cheek. "Chief," Izo shouts, grabbing everyone's attention, except for Itachi's. Everyone rushes towards the Chief. Kakashi is slow, still overlooking his surroundings. Itachi on the other hand is grabbing your hand to stop you from running in the same direction as others. "Itachi wha-" You never get to finish your words. The hand that is grabbing yours, pulls you to him quicker than you can fathom, making you collide with his chest. What you do not see is the movement Itachi has already sensed from his left, right where you stood a second ago; and sensing the danger, he draws you closer to him with his hand on the small of your back, before summoning his crows. Six crows. Six assassins. Six daggers flying in the air with you as their mark. Itachi does not move. His eyes, on the other hand, are already swirling in that direction. "Mangekyo Sharingan." You hear the words reverberate through his chest for one second. And the next, all six assassins drop to the ground. .

"Chief, are you okay?" Fukaboshi shouts as he descends from the small hill he goes up to look for any other assassins. "I'm fine." "He's fine." The chief and Kakashi declare in unison. Izo comes down from his ox and glares at Kakashi. "Hatake Kakashi, you are lucky our Chief was not hurt or I would have personally slit your throat right here." Kakashi folds his arms over his chest. "What is stopping you from doing it right now, Izo-san?" You, Kozuki, Naruto and Toge turn to look at Kakashi, a little taken aback by the direction this is going in. You take a step to walk in Kakashi's direction but are stopped by Itachi once again. He shakes his head and slowly pulls you back to him. "Mind your tongue, Hatake," Fukaboshi growls at the White Fang. "I have been minding my tongue till now, Fukaboshi-sama. Because if I didn't, these comatose assassins would be dead by now and you would be taking home the bodies of six young kids who don't even know why they were trying to attack us." Silence. Kozuki looks at Izo before dashing towards the comatose assassins lying on the ground to remove their masks and gasp in disbelief. Toge follows. Both of them look back at Izo. "Izo-sensei, did you know about this?" Toge is the first to ask. You want to take a look at the assassins as well but do not move; partially because a voice inside you is gathering all the anxiety in your chest and telling you it has something to do with you. Partially because Itachi still holds your hand- loose enough to not hurt, tight enough to give you a sense of reassurance. And it hurts your heart to admit that his presence feels safe. The reason for that feeling is never discussed internally at that moment. Kozuki and Toge are now standing opposite Izo, even looking at Fukaboshi with questioning eyes. "This is not the time and place to argue amongst yourselves in front of other villages, Kozuki. Toge!" Chief orders. Toge relaxes his stance. Kozuki does not. "This is the only time and place to ask why the other 'villager' knows the identity of these assassins and why did our people attack our caravan?" Kozuki growls back. "KOZUKI!!!" Izo thunders, summoning fire in both hands. The sudden emergence of fireballs gives you a jumpscare, your instinct making you grab Itachi's arm with your free hand and wanting to hide behind him in his cloak. The Chief sends his favourite stick flying towards Izo to create a gust of wind so strong that the fire fizzles out before it returns to him like a boomerang. No one dares say a word. Kakashi does it out of respect. Naruto does it out of sheer surprise. Bamboo villagers do it out of fear of seeing their Chief in action. You and Itachi do not speak because both of you are busy gathering the thoughts suddenly scattered; due to your brains registering the warmth under each other's skin. "Answer the girl, Izo." Chief demands, "I do not like being kept in the shadows by my loyal hands." .

Naruto is rubbing his forehead a little too furiously. "So-" he pauses the rubbing to spread his fingers to signal a pause in the air- "to summarise, the bamboo village senseis raided our village's graveyard to find the legendary Whisperer or any clue that led to that legend but could not find any. So, they had intended on sending assassins to the village while taking away two of the strongest shinobis of Konoha, thinking that the assassins might have some luck getting it out of the Hokage. But then they found out the Whisperer was with us, they sent a message to the assassins to attack us and take the Whisperer. The plan failed because Kakashi-sensei and Itachi-aniki were too strong. And now Chief-sama is mad at Izo-sama and Fukaboshi-sama because he was kept in the dark." The caravan- which has now scattered in a five-meter radius- sits in silence. Izo and Fukaboshi sit together, at a respectable distance from their Chief. Kozuki stands over the six 'assassins' that have now woken up but dare not look at the woman for fear of being burned under her glare. Nami sits next to Naruto and Toge sulks while sitting and ripping the grass off the small hill Kakashi stands on. You and Itachi sit opposite Kakashi, the latter never letting go of his stoic manners while you are suddenly shuddering on the inside. Kakashi raises his shoulders and nods in affirmation, proud of his pupil for retaining so much of that heavy information. "So, the Whisperer is somewhere safe, Kakashi sensei? Or do we need to protect it still?" Naruto turns his head in question. Nami, who has been sitting next to Naruto, rolls her eyes and facepalms hard. Kakashi smiles. Naruto feels a smack land on the back of his head. "Ow! What?" He asks Nami, offended.

"The Whisperer is safe," Kakashi assures Naruto before he sends daggers in Izo's direction from the corner of his eyes, "but we plan to protect to the point of killing." "We never meant any harm to the chosen one, Chief," Izo finally speaks, never looking up towards the crowd, "we only wanted to do it right by the village." "The chosen one?" Naruto whispers the question in Nami's direction. Nami simply puts her index finger on her lips, quieting down the young ninja. "You could have simply asked for their help," the Chief grumbles, not wanting to look at his men. "Come on, Chief. No village will let an outsider know about their Whisperer, let alone let them help them out," Izo protests before he feels Fukaboshi's hand land on his arm to quiet him down. "Is that so, Kakashi?" the Chief is curious to know. Kakashi sighs. "I think that is up to the Whisperer to decide, right?" You are intently listening to Kakashi when you feel his gaze land on you. Basic instinct makes you avert your gaze, letting it land on Nami, who has the same question in her eyes as Kakashi. So do Izo, Fukaboshi and Toge. Even Kozuki. The cold that has seeped into your bones has suddenly grown intense. Your heartbeat is playing at a wild tempo. Your head turns to look at Itachi, craving for some kind of guidance. "Should we visit their village and see what the trouble is?" The birds seem to have started have started chirping again.

For you.

You want to melt into his affectionate voice and disappear from this place. Maybe into his equally considerate eyes? You nod at him before looking at the rest of the caravan. "Okay," you declare weakly. Fifteen minutes later, the caravan is back on track; this time a bit colder than before. The assassins have been sent home. Fukaboshi and Izo have been ordered to walk the rest of the way while Naruto, Nami and Kozuki have taken their places on the oxen. You and Itachi are still walking at the back. Itachi can sense a dark cloud surrounding you. It doesn't help when he sees you walk with furrowed brows and a heart rate akin to that of a rat. "Are you okay, Y/N-san?" Itachi asks in a whisper, bringing you out of your anxious thoughts. "Hmm? Yes....no. I don't know what to feel." "Y/N-san..." You look up at Itachi. "I know-" you are already interrupting him before he can speak- "you will keep me safe. So will everyone else. So will Konoha." Does not stop this dreadful feeling of being in the dark and having a target on your back. "Please know I will protect you. No matter what." His dark eyes seem to carry a resolve that stirs you to your core. And then his smile makes you forget what you were anxious about in the beginning. You smile back and nod. Itachi tries to rationalise why his chest suddenly feels lighter. Nami, on the other hand, wonders what all she would do to Itachi Uchiha if he ever dared to be anything but the reason for that smile on your face.

#itachi uchiha #itachi x reader #itachi uchiha x reader #itachi x y/n #itachi x you #itachi fluff #itachi smut #itachi fanfic #itachi uchiha fanfic #maladaptive ninja returns

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