#i did not notice the dismembered arm for a very long time
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What if curse darling tried to escape from yandere gojo? How would he punish her 🤔?
Gojo Satoru
P1 & P2
TW: abduction and captivity, mild condescension, a lil angsty
gn reader
You rushed over once you heard him at the door – but the smile only barely stretched your face before dropping again.
Coming to an abrupt halt, the former intention of hugging him was wasted, and the words meant to welcome him home went stillborn on your tongue.
Nevertheless, he tugged off his blindfold with his thumb, and his pearly hair fell down in pretty whisps around his crown, shadowing the light of those stark blue eyes that slowly peeled open – and unaffected by your stilled state, he still kicked off his shoes and tugged you into his chest anyway – nuzzling his nose into your neck with a soft kiss on your shoulder.
“Mh, I missed you~”
Your nose twitched, and you sunk your teeth into your lip – feeling puzzled and awkward and slightly sick to your stomach. Arms hanging loosely by your sides as you let him sway you into him – dwarfed by his height, he had to slouch in order to hug you properly – with lanky arms slung around your midriff, pulling you close in a squeeze before loosening up again.
He kept his hands on your hips as he placed a kiss on your lips, but you didn’t react. Still standing there, something akin to frozen.
“Hey- where’d you go?” He called, cocking his head to the side while looking into your eyes with those searing earnest blues of his. “Not happy to see me?” He joked softly in a snicker – lightheartedly carefree.
It all felt so very wrong it made you release a sound that wasn’t too short of a whimper, albeit much weaker, almost so he didn’t even hear it.
“You-” You started but couldn’t quite finish, unsure of what it was that you needed to say.
You looked down at his uniform. It wasn’t much. Maybe he hadn’t noticed or maybe he just hadn’t cared – but… flecks of blood dotted the black fabric.
It smelled of curse – a dead curse – a killed curse.
You grimaced.
They’d been pained and scared toward the end – toyed with – dismembered and mutilated – mangled beyond repair. But for whatever reason you couldn’t fathom, he’d given them time enough to heal only to bring them back to the brink of death yet again – played with them for what you could tell had been a long while.
You smelled ridicule and a cry for mercy layered with a later cry for death, and it shook you to your core.
You shivered, taking an abrupt step back – removing yourself. Rubbing your goose-fleshed arms as you hugged yourself for comfort – reeling from the cold-hearted cruelty you’d felt seep into your bones from his touch.
He’d barely even washed his hands clean of all the blood.
You swallowed thickly, unable to look him in the eye – just staring at the spray of browned red that had since dried, now cakey and flakey, falling off like dust.
“You reek-” Was all the bile in your throat amounted to in the end – only a weak utterance.
His brows did a play of confusion before he followed your gaze, looking down at himself and finding what you were staring at.
Oh…
Despite being a cursed spirit, your nature isn’t exactly violent. Guess you’re not as desensitized to carnage as him.
It’s still odd, though. It couldn’t be sympathy he saw riddled on your face, right?
No. You’ve always been sensitive to dirty things. You’re just your normal disgusted self. You would have reacted the same way if it were ice cream.
He walked inside with a laugh, ruffling your hair as he passed you.
“Right- I’ll go shower. So uptight~” He dismissed with a tease, removing his jacket as he took long but relaxed strides to the bathroom.
You were left standing there for a moment. Unsure of the feelings brewing inside you.
You thought you might need to puke, but it never came…
Still, you felt weary and decided to go lie down in bed.
You hadn’t slept in your room in a while. It had become a little dusty but you didn’t mind – you needed your own space right now. A place away from him.
But it didn’t last long.
You heard him call for you some while later. You didn’t answer – lying in the dark beneath the covers.
“There you are~ You hidin’?” He chirped once he found you. “Or are you sleepin’?”
You felt the bed sink as he climbed atop the covers, slipping down next to you – curtly running his hand over the duvet, stroking down your side until resting on your hip.
“Not that I’m complaining- I had a long and boring day anyway.” He continued, scooting closer until he was spooning you tight – pressing his lips to where your ear would be. “Would be nice to end it with a little playtime~”
His toothy smirk slowly became a frown at your silence, sulking with a bored pout.
“You’re not still upset about the blood, are you?” He asked then. “I changed and washed it off, so I’m all clean now- you little neat freak~” Voice smooth and flirty, cuddling your cocooned body.
But still, you ignored him – and the doubt in his mind gave rise to a confused furrow between his brows. He thought for a minute before speaking up again. Squinting at his suspicion.
“That curse was a plague, you know...” He excused. “I had to kill it.”
He looked at your unmoving body in wait, hoping you’d say something.
And you did – muttering. “It’s not the curse I care about, Jujutsu Sorcerer.”
He blanched. It had been a while since you referred to him that coldly.
“I just forget sometimes.” You added. Voice muffled beneath the covers and almost so quiet he nearly couldn’t hear it.
“Forget what?” He asked.
There was a small pause before you answered him. “What you are…”
The curl on his face unraveled. Face blanking. Wordless.
“I’m sure you forget what I am too.” You continued. “That if I ever tried to leave… you’d hunt me down and reduce me to just a few drops of blood you’d then go home and wash off as though it meant nothing.”
He barely let you finish before yanking the covers off you, exposing you and the tears riddling your face to his view.
“That’s not true.” He denied.
“No?” You questioned harshly, sitting up in a rush – and getting in close to his face – daring him with a glare. “Then tell me. What exactly would happen if I decided I no longer wanted to stay here?”
His hair still dripped with cold droplets from his shower as he returned your stare. Your question was a dangerous one...
One he’d rather not answer.
He swallowed. “You have to stay here. You know why.” He said dismissively – his voice in that serious timbre he never uses – that tone devoid of the usual frivolity and instead holds that very dogmatic weight that urges you to surrender the fight before it gets too messy.
But you don’t heed the warning. “And if I can’t accept that? If I fight you-”
“Don’t be silly. You could never win-” He cut you off – before getting cut off himself by your next words.
“What if I tried anyway?” Your voice a little louder than before – staring him square in the face.
He paused, taking in your eyes – their narrowed state, as well as the brim of tears circling them. He thought of what he’d done that day and then tried imagining doing it to you – and came to a realization.
“I wouldn’t fight back…” His words were soft again, without edge. “I could never hurt you…” He cupped your face in both hands, his eyes full of something so wholesome it nearly made you flinch.
Then he looked sad. Pained in some way – or guilty, maybe.
“But still…” He started quietly. “I could never let you leave either.”
His hands were warm and gentle on your cheeks, but you wished he’d stop touching you.
“Their blood smelled of terror and torment. Did you have fun torturing them until they gave out?” The question was pointed – your words meant like venom.
His frown returned, letting go of your face – though you both remained only a split hair’s length apart. “So this is about the curse?”
“No, this is about you.” You corrected sharply – mirroring his frown with a bitter one of your own. “Is it the same type of fun you have subjugating me into being your tame little housepet?”
His face soured even more – now as though offended. “You're more than that to me. Don’t say that-”
But once again, you interrupted. “Livestock are pets until slaughter season. Suppose a butcherer would think that’s kind-”
And once again, he returned the favor – this time with his voice raised. “If I let you out of here, another sorcerer would kill you within a day! Keeping you here is what keeps you safe!”
You scoffed with your own voice climbing higher. “Don’t be so rude to paint yourself as a saint when you reek of sadism!”
There was a standstill, an all too deafening silence afterward – one filled with heavy breaths and the lingering echo of your last statement – until that as well, died and became nothing.
Satoru looked down, his head hanging – lifting gently with his breaths.
“I’m not a saint.” He murmured after a minute. “I’m selfish. And greedy.”
You watched him – much shorter than him, even as he hung his head, you were still able to see his eyes flicker with uncertain light beneath those heavy mothlike lashes.
“I didn’t kill you like I was supposed to because I saw something I wanted for myself, so I took it.” He confessed. “And I killed that curse today and had fun doing it.”
Taking your hands in his, he cradled them as though he planned on drinking them.
“You’re right. I am a sadist.” He sighed, giving a small breathless laugh. “It feels good to know that I can do whatever I want whenever I want to whoever I want. And it feels good to know that no one can stop me.”
Finally, he raised his chin and looked back at you – those eyes of his intense with something raw – something desperate.
“I don’t care about anything. So many things could happen outside these four walls and it wouldn’t matter. I’d still be Gojo Satoru and you’d still be mine.”
A tiny gasp slipped through your lips, but other than that, you couldn't move – compelled to keep his gaze – spellbound to their deep light.
“But the one thing I can’t do is make someone feel the way I want them to…” He continued, still with his voice soft. “And even though you don’t have a choice, I’m still selfish enough to wish that you’d want to stay with me. Forever.”
He gave your hands a squeeze.
“And most selfishly…” He leaned in, his face kissing yours softly, brow to brow, cheek to cheek, and nose to nose – lips ghosting as your mouths breathed in each other's air. “I want you to love me.”
Your breath shook. Eyes downcast, brows trembling, and he’d say you almost looked scared, weren’t it for how hard you gripped his hands in return – making indents in his skin with your nails as though anchoring yourself.
“Curses can’t love.” You tried excusing, but your voice was weak and he wouldn’t have it.
“I don’t believe that,” He rejected – and looking right through it, he knew you didn’t believe it either.
Then he chuckled.
“After all… I’m the worst curse of all, and I love you.”
P1 & P2
#yandere jjk#yandere jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujustu kaisen#jujutsu gojo#jujutsu kaisen#gojo smut#satoru gojo smut#gojo satoru smut#gojou satoru x reader#satoru gojo#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#gojo saturo#jjk gojo#yandere gojo x reader#yandere gojo satoru#yandere gojo#yandere satoru gojo#jjk smut#jujustu kaisen headcanons#gojo headcanons
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Phobos and jebus with a player that has a corset collection which only been worn when they cosplay/dress up?
KEEKEKEKEE~
~ JEB ~
Jeb is...flustered, to say the least. I mean, when he first laid his eyes on you, he couldn't imagine that you would be so stunning to look at and respectfully admire. He expected no less with a divine being such as yourself.
What he WASN'T prepared for was when you discovered that you could make your own outfits and 'buy' new cosmetic items from a grunt that Jeb has never seen before. Then, your clothes would suddenly swap on the spot.
The first time he sees you in such revealing clothes, his face turns into a bright shade of crimson.
Your back and your arms were exposed, along with a...temptation-inducing amount of skin showing on your chest.
The outfit leaves very little to the imagination.
Jeb had to exert some willpower to keep his eyes from committing sinful acts as he takes in the look and various scandalous gear. One thing he has taken notice of that appears in all your outfits...are the corsets.
The sight alone was enough to make him break a sweat.
They squeezed your form so tightly and molded your soft supple flesh into such pristine and alluring shapes that Jeb couldn't help but stare. As your loyal vessel, he felt it was disrespectful to stare at your form with lustful eyes. So he instead turned his attention to dismembering any grunt that dared stare at your form for far longer than they should, even more so if they compliment and catcall you.
Jeb tries to resist the temptation to gawk and the urge to touch your body that is concealed by those tight garments...
But even HE can desire.
His imaginings wander throughout his mind as he watches your chest and bare back shuffle about in the numerous corsets...just wondering how it would feel and a growing need to know what lies beneath the cloths that kept you modest.
But he's a vessel and only that.
So Jeb can only dream and hope that one day he'll be able to touch your form without tainting your divine purity.
~ PHOBOS ~
The moment you walk into his office wearing such scandalous clothes, Phobos breaks his pencil in half with such a sudden steely grip as his other hand puts his leg in a vice grip.
How did you become even more beautiful?! You were a looker before you found out that you could change clothes at will, but now?! Phobos could barely contain his lust and desire as he sees his godly accomplice wearing tight fitting CORSETS.
The way they hug your figure and clench your supple flesh into such elegance and beautiful bonds, Phobos felt his body temperature sky rocket just at the mere sight of his Player. He tries to bury his enthrallment deep, merely shaking his head when you continue to talk as if nothing was amiss.
How dirty of you...to come in here and tempt the god of Nevada? Your appearance just made him feel so breathless and starstruck, the once mouthy emperor sits silently at his desk, trying to keep his eye from committing visual sins.
But he can't resist your alluring beauty.
He glances at your curves and your chest, watching as you idly speak and move about his office, talking about something he's simply not paying attention enough to care about. But he watches your bare back, the ribbons that bounce and keep your body wrapped underneath like a beautiful present, and your glorious divine form underneath the garment.
He could only helplessly nod along and swallow down his building saliva.
It only gets worse when he finds out there's multiple versions of those corsets. Each cute, fancy, elegant, and attractive in their own ways...and Phobos would tolerate NOBODY ELSE staring at HIS PLAYER'S beauty. Any grunts that are staring long enough to make Phobos feel enraged would either get a bad scolding, if you’re present, or a maiming, if you're not present.
Only another god's eye should fall upon such a treasure as the Player's body. Other onlookers will NOT be tolerated.
He'll make sure of that.
#human!reader x madcom#madcom x reader#madcom tag#madness combat x reader#y/n x madness combat#yandere madness combat#madcom self aware au#self aware m:pn au#self aware au#madness combat self aware au#my writings#anon asks#anon ask#anonymous#haxorus imp#cosmica galaxy
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Teenage rebellion
Chapter 6: sneaking out to run around in the snow
April 20th 2024 at midnight Jackson was laying on its bed bored out of its mind

Jackson pov
It’s boring in this rotten old cabin but my dads say I have to stay here for my safety from very bad people trying to hurt us and probably try to kill us well that’s what papa said they tried to do to him but the snow and the ice look pretty and I want to run around and play but my dads are in the the pocket dimension doing something so they probably won’t notice I’ll be gone for a few minutes or hours so I’ll be fine
Jackson looks outside its room to see everyone there before it snuck out of its room through the window and started running around and rolling around in the snow until it found a cave full of what looked to be blue and purple ice crystals with a frozen lake but it was covered in blood
Jackson: wow.… this is beautiful I should probably see what this looks in the daytime
Jackson decided to go inside the cave and slide around on the ice laughing having a good time but then it noticed a bunch of dismembered body parts and the sentence “I’m so sorry” written all over the walls in blood
Jackson: this must have been where papa and dad stayed in before they found the cabin
Jackson runs around and sliding on the ice some more until it heard something and runs far in the mountains but it made sure to know how to get back home Jackson wandered around and stops when it finds a good spot to play and roll around in the snow it spent a couple hours just running around until it was starting to become daytime so it start running back home good thing it’s the weekend so it didn’t have to worry about school the next day
The next day
Jackson: hay I found a cave yesterday
Max: where?
Jackson: in the mountains but there is a lot of blood and rip up body parts
Max: really?
Jackson: yea you want to see?
Max: hell yea!
A few hours later max and Jackson go to the mountains
Max: so how did you find this cave?
Jackson: I was running around and then I found it
Max: did dad and papa stay in a cave before they found the cabin?
Jackson: yea and I think that was the cave I found because there was some of dads goo when I got there
Max: are you sure it wasn’t from you?
Jackson: yes
Max: ok is that why you were out of the house for a long time?
Jackson: yea i ran around on the ice
Max: did you fall on your a$$ a lot?
Jackson: no I didn’t anyway we are almost there
Max: ok
Jackson and l max get to the cave and look in
Max: whoa you were right this is pretty
Jackson: I told you
Max:* starts running onto the ice* race you!
Jackson:* starts chasing after max* hay no fair!
They chase each other around the cave for a few minutes until max falls into a hole full of water
Jackson:* starts laughing*
Max:* climbs out the hole* hay it’s not funny!
Jackson:* laughing* I’m sorry
Max:* grabs Jackson’s arm and pulls throws it into the water* how do you like that?!!
Jackson: hay your the one who fell in first dumb a$$
Max: shut up
Jackson:* climbs out of the water* we should probably get home soon
Max: why? We just got here
Jackson: dad and papa are going to get worried
Max: ok
Max and Jackson run around more than start walking home
Max: so are you and your friends done doing stupid sh!t?
Jackson: nope!
Max: called it
Jackson: what it’s fun
Max: then why can’t I join in?
Jackson: because if we get caught, we can get in trouble
Max: we have gotten in trouble before
Jackson: I know but I don’t want to lecture from Papa about getting caught by police
Max: ok understandable but how are your partners?
Jackson: they are fine we are going on a date tomorrow
Max: nice where?
Jackson: to a opera that Aristotle is performing at
Max: ohh that sounds fun what song?
Jackson: something called O Fortuna
Max: Aristotle knows how to speak Medieval Latin?
Jackson: yea there’s a lot of things I don’t know a lot about Aristotle and they keep surprising me every time
Max: I see why you love them
Jackson: yea..
Max and Jackson make if back to the cabin
Lanky: where did you to go?!
Jackson: we went out for a walk
Lanky: without telling us?
Jackson: sorry I forgot to
Lanky: I know you guys want to explore some but if are going far into the mountains just let us know
Jackson: ok papa it’s just really boring in this cabin
Lanky: me and your father understand that, sweetheart but it’s for our safety 
Jackson: I know
Jackson goes up to its room to lay down for a little bit and it gets a call from Aristotle
Jackson:* answers* yes?
Aristotle: did you lose the tickets I gave you?
Jackson: no why?
Aristotle: it’s because Melissa lost her ticket
Jackson: oh did she find it?
Aristotle: yes she did but I just wanted to make sure no one else lost their tickets
Jackson: yea nope i’m keeping it In my drawer
Aristotle: that’s good I’m excited that you all are coming to my performance 
Jackson: yea me too
End of chapter


(Melissa will be back in her Charlie body in the next two chapters)

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AU- Angel’s Victory || Drabble || Open starter
[[ Warning for uhhhhhhhh unalive and descriptions on that regard i guess, beheading and dismembering predominant
EDIT: it’s a bit more graphic now so uh viewer discretion is advised ]]}
----
Douma’s plan was always simple in theory, but the practice was much, much more complex, Masador knew that the elites were on the hunt for them, as they had taken someone of great value to demons, Lord Amaexur, a one man army, capable of wiping battlefields alone, and only struck down by a god, long, long ago. His recovery slumber was almost complete as he’d been taken away, and everyone’s fears were aimed at Douma taking control of this weapon.
Masador, always attentive, always with sharp senses, had been speaking to someone in his office, there was something off, he could tell, an odd gut feeling that he’d felt very few times in his life, but he pushed it to the back of his mindd for a moment or two.
Suddenly, however, something seemed to click, almost like predicting the eruption of a megavolcano, his connection to Lord Amaexur rang´. Almost like a primal part of his being was urging Masador to kill, but this primal part did not belong to him, this urge to kill, demons, of all things, came from the fragment that made him, Amaexur.
Immediately he vaulted over his desk, not minding any broken equipment or furnishing under his weight, this was an emergency and needed to be taken care of. Just like that, he also ignored any of the cleanliness he usually kept, the order, all of that had to go away, as a hole opened on the floor, a portal, and whoever stood near him was promptly grabbed. “Do not come back until I go get you.” He growled, fighting the growing urge to squeeze the other’s neck, finally, he threw them into the portal, which would lead to the safety of Masador’s own home in the human realm.
As the portal closed, Masador was ready to run through the building and help others evacuate, but a burning bright ring of yellow and purple fire (or was it fire? He couldn’t fully tell) wrapped around his neck, arms, legs, a restraint that he’d never had to face, almost insulting to be reduced in such a manner, before the War Devil himself picked Masador with ease and threw him downward, the impact, strong enough to break the floor they stood at, too served to snap two of Masador’s horns, the jolt of pain it caused making Masador faint.
...
Waking up was strange, surreal, his head hurt, his ears were ringing, as he dislodged himself from the floor and stood up, his hand placed on his bleeding head, he could notice one thing, it was quiet, extremely quiet, not only could he hear much less than usual, but the building he stood at... There was no heartbeat to be felt, he felt the remains of his top horns with his hand and hissed, while one had not snapped too close to the base, the other had an exposed nerve, any touch to it was horrid, yet... The bleeding was gone, as if someone had taken care of it while he was knocked out.
He stumbled, dizzy, nauseous, in pain, towards the window, the view of Melobor always being a peaceful one, but this silence, this peace, it was not achieved in such method. The night sky was illuminated by a few automatic lights, the rest had no chance to seeing the stars again.
The Earth Devil fell to his knees, wasit a targetted attack? They knew he was able to shield Melobor, perhaps why they knocked him out first, but this seemed like much more, that primal urge, now gone, it was key.
A thought sparked, panic settled in, he gathered some strength and opened a new portal, this time one that lead to Aglarin, Axahs’ office, he trusted his siblings, they could handle themselves, but last time they had a great disaster, Axahs had been a target as well.
But Axahs was not in his office, searching through the orphanage, Masador finally found him, or better said what was left, a mess of limbs, some belonging to his brother, some to other workers, people that perhaps refused to evacuate. Masador knelt, holding his breath, loss wasn’t a stranger to him, but this close and personal was completely different. He took deep breaths, his head tilting down slightly, all he could hope by now was that these were fast, and as painless as they could be. It didn’t take from the pain he felt deep in his chest, he wanted to scream, to curse at the skies and break his surroundings, but what would it fix? Fits of rage could not bring the dead back to life.
He patted his pocket, pulling out his phone, the screen was a mess, he could barely make that he had a message from Sana, but no way to read it, nothing. His hand pressed the device, cracking it. He took a mental note to where Axahs was, he’d have to return later to provide his little brother with a proper burial, alongside all the workers that did their best at protecting the place, to no avail.
Checking on Sana wasn’t much different, while it wasn’t as brutal of a scene, he could tell she’d been hiding, terrified, fear she didn’t usually express, but finding her in fetal position, and her head aside, it was clear as well. His hand clutched his chest, two losses, and it didn’t look any better going forward, but he had to check, a small bit of hope held his head up, if he had one person to hold on to, to talk to.
He leaned down next to his sister, noticing the tight grip on her bloodied up phone, gently, he took it, choosing to reac the message she’d sent him.
>Did you feel that too? That bloodlust, something is wrong.
>Masador?
>Amaexur is nearby, it’s so quiet outside now, I’m afraid, help me.
Nothing else after that, he had to take note, as well, so he could offer her a proper rest, his hearts were heavy with grief already. He hoped that his other two siblings had dealt with the threat somehow, that there was still chance to help.
But Iuerus had stained the ice of her walls, her wings had been pulled off, a strategist, Amaexur was, now aware of how deadly she could be when able to fly. Her hands, too had been taken, and she’d been impaled, seemingly in her own construction, pierced by a large icicle, her death was most likely due to blood loss, slow and alone, tragic, he thought, not wanting to make comparisons to her life. He observed her for a moment, closing her eyes and taking her off the icicle,a task that felt more difficult to pull off than it should’ve been. He offered her one last embrace before laying her down, he’d come for her as soon as possible.
Nistiel.... Nistiel was strong, he knew, but if all the rest had been wiped off so easily, and he himself had been knocked out in one hit, could Nistiel really handle it? The answer was simple: No.
Signs of struggle were everywhere, just as Masador had expected, Nistiel fought til the last drop of blood in his body was gone, his office’s windows had been splashed and stained in it, and Masador did not dare count how many fragments of his brother he found separated, nor the distance between each, he silently collected them, trying to keep himself calm as he could. Even after how much Nistiel had done, how much he’d struggled in life and suffered to keep everyone safe, he could not have a worthy death, he was humiliated and spread around, sliced and minced, the least Masador could do was give him a proper send off.
Masador’s facade remained the same, his usual, calm, collected, poker face, aside from the added detail of tears running down his face, a mostly foreign feeling, but something he couldn’t will it to stop anymore.
Devastated already, there was one more person to check, he hoped she’d managed to escape in time, but considering her duties and how loyal she was to the army, hopes were low.
It took a good moment to find her, eventually landing at Axon’s house, and finding both him and Tsaerah, they were skilled fighters, but if a devil couldn’t handle the threat that attacked all, it would be impossible for just a pair of elites to do so. He looked around, noticing Tsaerah’s axe, clean, it hadn’t hit anybody once, most likely didn’t have a chance, while Axon’s weapon had simply melted, water that thinned the blood that ran from them.
Masador’s hands trembled as he leaned down, seeing the headless body of his daughter was a breaking point, the last straw, he sat there, on top of the blood, the icy cold water, he dared not look at her face, not wanting his last memory of her to be that last expression. He picked her body, holding it close to him, it was colder than ever, he embraced his daughter one last time and wept, wept for hours on end.
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It would take a couple of days for Masador to go back to the human world, that safety that was his home there, the warmth of the sun, the noise of cars, vendors, people walking outside, none of it was comforting, just a reminder of everything lost, the only relief was that there was no monster roaming around ready to behead anybody that steps foot in.
Masador landed from a portal, his expression tired, no, exhausted, whoever he’d managed to save, had it really been enough? They would not be able to come back in such a long time.
He stumbled, slowly, to a couch, in which he simply sat down, his hands holding his head, hiding his face, and wlbows resting on his legs. He was devastated, heartbroken, in pain, and felt hopeless, broken. Nothing could have prepared him for a tragedy of this sort.
A shaky sigh, although he hoped it had not been noticed.
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[REMASTERED] Yan!Hank J Wimbleton Headcanons
I am most definitely not proud of the first set of Hank HCs I did, my beloved deserves better representation and I'm here to give him it. Henceforth to self indulgent criminal psychology --- reader is human !!! (HAPPY 420TH POST)
It was a slow burn, really. Something that started as just mere interest, something that started as a source of slight entertainment. Something so frail and vulnerable as you stumbling around a place like Nevada like it was absolutely nothing to you. Hank watched and waited, pondering if now would be the time you get swarmed and promptly dismembered by whatever may cross your path. It was like a game to him. Will his predictions be right this time? Will today be the day of your defilement and destruction? It very well may be
Soon enough though, with every passing day he found himself watching you, the idea of anyone tainting your innocence with their dirty hands made him absolutely sick to his stomach. It just didn't sit right with him anymore. It was no longer a childish guessing game to Hank, it was now a mission. He's not going to sit back and watch as you stumble right into a slaughter ground. For whatever reason, Hank felt he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he allowed that to happen to you
Just as he first began to put his plan into motion, however, he noticed someone new by your side. Someone new that was holding you, walking you through the desolate wasteland that was Nevada. Someone that should've been him. Hank hated the way they just couldn't seem to get their grubby hands off of you. The way you gave him a pretty, angelic smile whenever they cracked some stupid joke or when they grabbed your hand. That smile was supposed to be for his eyes only, your body was supposed to be for his hands only, so this just won't do. No, it won't do at all
It won't take long for you to witness your first Nevada killing after Hank witnesses your new suitor. Hank is a very skilled murderer, so placing their head on a spike strategically right where you'll find it isn't anything that's out of Hank's ballpark. Let it serve as a lesson to you. You weren't supposed to allow anyone else to dirty you. If you would have just stayed loyal, stayed innocent, then this wouldn't have happened. He wants you to be better next time, he really does, but Hank doesn't want to sit around and wait for this to happen again. He doesn't believe in second chances
There will be no elaborate plan for your abduction. There doesn't need to be one. When he has his sights on you next time, it will take mere seconds for him to kidnap you. Nobody will help you when they rationalize that it's Hank J Wimbleton commiting the act against you, they know better than to stand in his way out of fear of suffering what they believe will be your fate alongside you. Rushing behind you and pulling you down with a hand over your mouth, it's game over. No use in struggling or crying out for help, as Hank is far stronger than you or anyone stupid enough to stand between him and what be wants.
Hank does not tolerate escape attempts. If you dare try and leave him, after all he's done to keep you safe, he'll gladly plan to tear your disobedience right from your psyche. He is most definitely not afraid to hurt you to get what he wants from you, as he knows well enough about you to know how much pain he's able to cause you. Breaking your mind completely isn't off the table either. After all, a love slave is better than an ungrateful brat. He'll gladly settle for such if it means you'll allow yourself to find solace in his arms. Hank only wants what's best for you, he's not completely evil after all. Not towards you, at least!
Hank definitely has a thing for watching you. His favorites are seeing you sleeping and breathing, something about it is just so satisfying to him. Hopefully you'll someday allow him to watch you without you recoiling into yourself out of fear
Hank, no matter how cold-blooded he may seem, desires your affection above all else. He craves it, it's like a drug to him despite never even having gotten a taste of it. He needs it, and he'll be waiting patiently for whenever you're ready to finally give it to him
#hank madness combat#hank j. wimbleton#hank x reader#madness combat hank#madness combat#madcom#yandere madness combat#hank j wimbleton#hank madness#madcom hank#yandere x reader#x reader#yandere imagines#yandere hcs#yandere
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the babysitter’s club (1)
+ pairing: levi ackerman + (fem) reader, featuring bright-eyed but very easily intimidated interns and part-time babysitters eren and armin who are trying their best
+ genres and warnings: modern au, parents au, fluff, yes the dog’s name is captain and he’s tiny what about it
+ summary: eren and armin are good subordinates, who happen to be pretty good babysitter, too. usually.
+ word count: 2.7k
+ notes: this was just something fun i edited and reworked again, also to provide some more insight about dad levi and my oc kids; this focuses only on holden, who is the oldest of the bunch, but you’ll more about the rest as they go
It’s not that Levi doesn’t trust Holden’s babysitters, he just would rather watch over her himself. Moreover, he would rather have the time to spend with his small daughter instead of having to leave her in the care of someone else who isn’t you, but sometimes life gets busy, and babysitters come in real handy.
He still doesn’t understand why Erwin would schedule the both of you to attend such important work-related meetings on the same weekend; much less, to send you half-way around the world for yours, and then book Levi for damn near twelve hours on a Saturday. He would murder Erwin if he weren’t his direct boss, and a long-time friend. But shit happens, and while it’s a major inconvenience and pain in his ass to be working on a weekend, it’s good to know he could rely on the brats at the office to step up on such short notice.
“I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that if anything happens, I won’t hesitate to dismember you,” Levi says calmly, closing his briefcase after triple-checking its contents.
“Of course,” Armin stiffens visibly, awkward laughter seeping through his words, “Eren and I would never let anything happen to Holden.”
To his left, Holden has already tugged Eren to the coffee table for a game of children’s Scrabble, determined to show off her new skills. Levi smiles slightly as he remembers playing the game with her last week, and how awe-struck she was to have seen Levi create a word bigger than “unattainable”—which is currently the longest word in her four-year-old vocabulary. But he’s certain she would have no trouble beating Eren.
He gives Armin a slight nod. He knows Holden is in good hands; or good enough hands with Armin, anyway. It’s not the first time the duo has babysat, and for as air-headed and clumsy Eren could be at the office, he seemed to be pretty damn good with kids if Holden’s attachment to the brunette was anything to go by.
Levi recounts that you’ve questioned on multiple occasions why Eren was so dedicated to being your PA when he seemed to have a potential career in taking care of, and maybe even teaching children. Not that he’s not a good assistant to you, but he’s certainly not as organized or detailed-oriented as Armin. Levi shrugs away the thought. Eren’s career choices are none of his business; his only concern is that he keeps his daughter safe and sound.
“Right. My card is on the kitchen island, you can buy lunch and dinner or whatever, I don’t think there’s much in the fridge,” Levi informs Armin. He looks briefly to the clock on the wall; he really should get going. “Remember to walk Captain at some point, and no matter what Holden says, he absolutely does need a leash on him. If Erwin isn’t being a complete asshat, I’ll be home by nine. (Y/N) will probably still be on her flight, so call me if you need anything.”
Armin nods enthusiastically, promising Levi that they would take care of everything. They’d better.
“Alright, I’m heading out,” Levi announces, pulling his keys from the table near the door, “Be good, Holden. Tell Armin and Eren if you need anything.”
Holden’s head perks up at the sound of her name. Elegantly, or as elegantly as a four-year-old can be, she stands from her seated crisscross position, to run over to Levi by the door. He should remind her that she should use walking feet inside the house, but he can’t bring himself to, instead crouching down to meet her height.
“Bye, daddy,” she tells him sweetly. Levi reaches a hand out to ruffle the top of her head, much to the small girl’s chagrin. She sports a grimace almost identical to his as he reaches up to try and smooth out the aftermath of her father’s affections, “Daddy!”
Levi can’t help but chuckle, reaching two fingers out to poke at his daughter’s forehead. “Be good. I’ll be back soon.”
“Mommy too?”
Levi sighs, “No, mommy doesn’t come back until Tuesday.”
“That’s four days away,” Holden’s doesn’t hesitate to express her dissatisfaction. Levi nods, a little proud of how quickly she’d calculated that in her head, “Can Eren stay until Tuesday?”
“No, Eren cannot.”
“Oh, that’s too bad,” Holden crinkles her nose. Levi really has got to do something about her fascination with Eren.
Holden looks backwards to where Eren is still seated around the coffee table, he and Armin watching the father-daughter duo. After reconciling with the fact that Eren does, in fact, have his own home to go back to at the end of the day, Holden turns back around, and holds her hand up, palm facing Levi. He does the same, bringing his larger palm to hers, so that her hand is pushed against the middle of his.
Not one for hugs, kisses, or larger displays of affection, Holden simply turns her palm so that her hand grabs around Levi’s as best as possible, hooking her thumb around his pinky finger—what Levi’s heard the young girl call a hand hug.
“Bye, daddy,” she repeats, squeezing his hand, “Come back soon.”
Levi bends his fingers to wrap around her hand, “I will.”
“Keep an eye on her,” Levi reminds Armin and Eren, after standing back up and gripping his briefcase in his hand, “Don’t cause too much trouble.”
“Holden never causes trouble,” Eren says in response, but his words are spoken in coos to the young girl, who’s already back at his side.
Levi scoffs, “I was talking to you.”
“We’ll be fine, boss, don’t worry,” Eren chuckles with an awkward blush, “We love looking after Holden.”
“I’m not your boss,” Levi deadpans, double-checking his pockets for his keys, “You’d better hope everything is fine. Call me if anything happens, I’ll be back soon.”
With one final round of good-byes, and a wave from his daughter, Levi’s out the door, and stepping into his car with a grimace. It was just one stupid day out of his life. Besides, Holden would be fine with Armin and Eren; she always is. Levi is just grumpy that he can’t be the one to spend the day with her.
He sighs, reluctantly, putting his keys in the ignition. The sooner he got this over with, the sooner he could come back to Holden. Everything would be fine in the meantime; for now, he had to focus on how he was going to get himself to sit through Erwin’s long-ass meeting.
“Levi! Hi! Um… okay, so don’t freak out, but Armin and I are at the hospital with Holden right now—don’t freak out—because there was a small incident at lunch—don’t freak out and fire me please—but! It’s all gonna be okay, they’re already treating her and she’s doing fine now, so don’t freak—”
“Tell me not to freak out one more fucking time and I’ll castrate Armin and feed you his balls myself.”
“You sound a little freaked out,” Eren placates, wincing and holding his phone away from his ear when Levi growls in response.
“You have five seconds to tell me what you two idiots did to my daughter and explain why I shouldn’t decapitate you immediately.”
“It’s a funny story, actually—so, um, we think Holden might be allergic to nuts…?”
“What do you mean might be, Jaeger?”
Eren can feel his heart in his throat. He eyes Armin on the other side of Holden’s hospital bed. He looks no better—color almost completely drained from his face, but Eren doesn’t think he can say much else to his boss before his knees give out from underneath him.
“Uh, well, it was a lot of technical terms, and—I—um, actually I’m going to let Armin explain!” Eren hurries, all but chucking his phone at the unsuspecting blonde.
Armin’s blue eyes look almost grey with anxiety, but before he can protest, Eren is flailing his hands and pointing fingers and reminding him that Levi will kill them both if he doesn’t start talking.
Reluctant, and terrified, Armin finally lifts the phone to his ear, stuttering out a pathetic hello, but Levi cuts him off before he can say anything else.
“Save it. Send me your location, and pray I don’t kill you when I get there.” Armin chokes out a “yes, sir,” before slowly bringing the phone down to his side.
The good news is that Holden’s allergic reaction wasn’t too severe: her throat had been irritated, and hives had emerged as a result, but it hadn’t been closing up. And luckily, Eren had the endurance to run nearly a mile and half with a four year old tucked under his arm; because with the traffic Armin observed whilst he and Captain huffed and lagged behind, it would have taken thrice as long to get Holden to the ER had they waited and called for an ambulance.
Even better was that Holden was an unnervingly calm kid, even whilst having an allergic reaction. She looked almost back to normal now, save for a few red looking blotches on her neck and upper arm; and seemed more than content to be watching a video on Eren’s phone, despite the situation. She was a little bummed out to find out that she could never eat the new ice cream she liked so much ever again, but she seemed to quickly get over it once Eren reminded her that there were lots of other flavors out there for her to try. Flavors that wouldn’t make her choke to death.
Still, Eren and Armin could probably kiss their jobs goodbye, seeing as they had nearly just poisoned their bosses’ daughter. Holden seemed to like them enough, but, unfortunately, Holden wasn’t the Ackerman who signed their checks.
At the very least, Eren doesn’t think you’ll be too upset with him. He doesn’t think you’ll be ecstatic to hear that while you were away on your already inconvenient work-trip on the other side of the globe, that he also managed to land your daughter in a hospital bed… but you were the more forgiving one. Then again, maybe not so forgiving when it comes to the health and wellbeing of your daughter.
Eren falls back against the wall in dread. You weren’t even in the same country as him and he was worried about what you might say or do to him. Levi was probably less than twenty minutes away and fully capable of beheading him.
“You… uh, you think the Interior Branch is still looking for interns?” Eren breaks the silence, looking towards Armin, who’s taken the seat next to Holden’s bed, petting Captain robotically as the dog sits in his lap.
“I don’t think it matters,” Armin responds, “They won’t hire corpses.”
Fifteen minutes, and several run red lights later, Levi is bursting through the doors to the pediatric wing of the emergency room. He doesn’t care about the old woman at the reception yelling at him for causing a ruckus, or the other parents, doctors, or visitors eyeing him for marching around like he owned the place. Holden was in there somewhere, and he was going to get to her.
“Holden—oh, god, Holden,” Levi coos, frantic, as he marches into Holden’s room, scurrying to the side of her hospital bed. A cold hand reaches up to stroke her face. Angry, red bumps litter the sides of neck, her cheeks are puffier than usual, and the perimeter of her mouth seems a bit irritated, but Levi is relieved. She’s okay, his baby girl is okay.
“’M fine, daddy,” Holden assures him. She’s almost overly-perceptive for her age, able to pick up on her father’s out of character antics, and does her best to console him. “Eren ran with me all the way here when I started coughing and itchin.’”
Levi nods, the dark grey splotches in Holden’s eyes bringing him comfort, ensuring him that she was okay. “They gave me a shot, and I don’t like needles, but I didn’t even cry at all. Ask, Armin and Eren, they saw! Captain, too.”
“Brave girl,” Levi smiles, reaching his hand up to push her hair out of her face then leans over to press a kiss to her forehead.
Levi had almost forgotten that Eren and Armin were in the room until he hears a blundering cough from behind him. The younger boys look petrified, Eren practically shaking in his shoes, while Armin doesn’t even have the confidence to look him in the eye.
“We’re really sorry, Levi,” Eren apologizes, voice scratchy and wobbly, like he’d been the one to just get a shot, “We didn’t know—and when she started coughing and saying she couldn’t breathe, I swear, I ran here as fast as I could—”
“It’s fine.”
“It’s… fine?”
Levi sighs. Maybe he’d been a little harsh with them on the phone, letting his emotions get the best of him. He’d already been pissed off enough to not have the time to spend with Holden this weekend; hearing that she’d been hurt was just the final push over the edge for him, but it wasn’t necessarily Armin or Eren’s fault.
“I didn’t know either,” Levi exhales, reaching at hand out to pet the top of Holden’s head again, the young girl now distracted once again by the phone in her hand, “She’s never had a reaction to anything before, and neither (Y/N) or I have any strong allergies.”
Armin shuffles where he’s standing. “The doctor said she might be allergic to tree nuts. We, uh, we gave her pistachio ice cream after lunch.”
If there’s anything concerning Levi, it’s that they gave Holden ice cream before dinner, but he supposes he can let it go for now.
“Eren told me to try it, and it tasted good, daddy,” Holden interjects, “Before I started coughing, it was good.”
“Ah, well, you can’t—you shouldn’t eat things that make you feel sick!” Eren stutters loudly.
“But it was good,” Holden pouts, “And you said to try new things, Eri. I won’t know if it makes me sick if I don’t try them.”
Levi holds back his laughter. He knows that Holden definitely wouldn’t want to try the same same flavor again knowing now that she was allergic to it; she was just pulling at Eren’s leg. Levi would have to keep an eye out for the stuff anyway, especially if her oh-so-precious Eren has expressed any former love for it.
“Um, Levi, sir,” Armin calls, pulling Levi’s attention towards the blonde, “We didn’t know if (Y/N) would have landed already, but do you think you should call her, to, um, let her know?”
Levi’s face pales three shades when he realizes that none of them had already informed you that your daughter was currently hospitalized with a new found allergy.
“You can call her,” Levi says, a shudder in his spine at the thought of relaying this information to you, “That’s your death sentence, not mine.”
#aot x reader#snk x reader#levi x reader#levi ackerman x reader#aot imagines#snk imagines#levi ackerman fluff#levi ackerman smut#eren x reader#aot fluff
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Sealing the Deal part 1
Summary: Always, always be nice to sea creatures but never ever accept their pelt.
A/n: A fic I’ve been meaning to write since forever. My contribution to mermay.
warning: Disgusting fluff and bad decisions
Main Masterlist
part 2
You look like you're gonna die from boredom in your little fishing boat.
Dick rolls over to where Jason was sprawled and used his momentum to push the larger seal into the water. Jason gives an undignified squawk of outrage. Dick just preens and looks smug.
You cup your hand over your mouth as you begin to laugh.
Jason glares even harder at Dick. Dick... couldn't care even less if he tried. All he can focus on is the wrinkle in the corners of your eyes. They'd been gone for so long these past few months. It felt like the first ray of sun after a long storm.
Dick claps his fins in excitement even as Jason snuffs and rolls his eyes.
You clap in return but accidentally drop your fishing pole into the sea. Reaching for it, you fall into the water. Dick feels a little bad for laughing but you manage to get yourself back up into the boat safely. You sigh in defeat as your fishing pole drifts away. Dick notices for the first time that your face has grown gaunt from the last few weeks. Are you eating enough? Are you even taking care of yourself?
Dick swims over to your boat as it rocks back and forth on the waves. He hops in easily and plops onto your stomach. You laugh and pet his head. It was a weak laugh so he croons at you in question.
“Sorry pup, I don’t have any food for you today. I mean I don’t even have any for me.” Despite the sweet timbre of your voice, Dick can still taste the bitter hopelessness in the statement.
He nuzzles his face into your chest. He can feel just how thin you’ve gotten. He has to do something about this.
To say Dick had been afraid of humans would be a monumental understatement. It had been around 200 years since humans had left the island and the first thing they did when they came back was hunt down selkies. Dick's parents had been two of the unlucky few who'd been hunted down.
So when Dick found himself stranded onshore because of a fin tangled in a fishing line, he thought he was a goner. And when he saw you approaching; well, he still thought he was fucked but he thought you'd at least be nicer than the adults.
Maybe if he acts cute enough you'll spare him.
Dick whimpered and he gave you the big innocent look.
You shushed him harshly. Dick flinched then you flinched and muttered apologies.
You approached him slowly. You looked around before crouching and fiddling with the line Dick had managed to get himself caught in. Carefully, you began to disentangle him. It hurt, especially when you took the hook out, but once he was free. He clapped and trilled before you shushed him again.
Dick thought that it was all over and he could just roll back into the sea until you scoop him up and swaddle him in your shirt.
After 10 minutes of your father screaming at you, he agreed to treat Dick who knew better than to snap at him. Your father was kind with gentle hands. He worked on Dick while you fed him fish. It wasn't the best fish but Dick can't complain.
After an hour or so, Dick started to wriggle and you pull him closer to your chest.
"Dad, can we keep him for a few days? He might still be sick." You plead with big eyes.
Your father glared at you then sighed. "No more than two. His wounds just need to close up, understand?"
You squealed a little. Hugging Dick tighter, you thanked your father before scampering off to find you a basin to put Dick in. You, thankfully, had the good sense to fill it with lukewarm water.
Dick lived like a king in those two days. You fed him a lot of fish much to your dad's exasperation. You kept him warm. You even read to him and sang songs to him.
Dick wanted to stay but he missed Bruce, Alfred, Damian, and maybe that new kid Jason.
On the fourth day (one of the wounds was deeper than expected), Dick was released back into the sea but he never did manage to stay away after that
Dick sets the odd little trinket down in front of Jason's sleeping form. It was something you'd caught in your net days before along with the meager amount of fish you'd managed to net. You'd busied yourself with it for days before throwing it out. Dick wasn't sure what it was; all he knew was that it was something Jason would like.
He waits semi patiently for Jason to notice it, nudging it forward a little until it touches Jason's snout and the larger seal is forced to pay attention to Dick.
"I know when I'm being bribed, Dickface." Jason says, glaring.
Dick volleys it with a wide-eyed hopeful look. He nudges the little trinket forward again. This time, instead of ignoring him, Jason rises to his full height, teeth bared. This... does not faze Dick.
"C'mon Jaaaaaaay," Dick says as if the prolonging of syllables would whittle down Jason's irritation. Jason suspects if he were less inclined to tell Dick to fuck off, it would have worked. Probably. But as it stands, Dick is responsible for ruining a very good, very rare nap for Jason and so he's on the shit list and has lost any favor privileges until further notice.
"I said no. Go away or ask Bruce."
"But Jaaaaaaay, it's just a teensy tiny favor. It won't even take an hour. Not with your skill at least."
"That kind of flattery may work on Harper and it may even work on West but I'm not an idiot about to get involved with whatever shenanigans you have planned with the human."
Dick lets out a long-suffering sigh. Jason isn't stupid enough to think that Dick has actually given up. No, the stubborn little fuck is worse than a barnacle. "You've left me no choice-"
"I have given you plenty of choices. Most of them involve minding your own goddamn business." Jason says with a little snuff.
"-I'm calling it in."
Jason narrows his eyes at Dick.
"Don't you dare. That was 5 years ago."
Dick smiles, evilly. "Unless you want the rest of the family to know about-"
"Fine! What do you want?"
Dick looks smug. Jason wants to bite his face off.
"I need you to help me catch fish."
Jason looks at him, incredulous. "Did you hit your head or something?"
"Not recently. Look, I just need you to help me catch fish for the human." Dick explains like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Contrary to what Dick seems to think, Jason really isn't concerned with the one human on the island. Most of the selkies on the island have barely even interacted with you outside of staring at you.
"You're insane."
"I think we reserve that term for Bruce."
Jason raises his head from the ground. "You're not wrong."
You think you hear the light pitter-patter of raindrops. You sigh. You would be lying if you say you aren't the least bit thankful for the excuse to stay indoors today. You... don't exactly like foraging for food. You had avoided it for as long as you had food in the lighthouse. You thought it would at least last you 'til the ships came in but whatever is going on in the mainland has kept the ships from your shores. You don't mind. You never did find the sailors all that pleasant on the rare occasions that you did have to interact with them.
You like your island the way it is but... you're not exactly the most skilled at hunting... or fishing. You have no idea how your father did it. You chucked it up to the miracles of loaves and fishes. You miss him.
You curl around your pillow in a vain attempt to chase the wakefulness away but the sun in your eyes was too bright. You flutter your eyes open. The sun had the audacity to be there. Still the splushing sound continued.
You strain your ears to listen, trying to make heads or tails of it. It was a squishy sound, the sound of putty hitting stone over and over again. You scramble to the front door. In hindsight, you probably should have grabbed a weapon before running towards the strange sound.
Opening the door, you're greeted with the sight of a familiar seal caught red-handed with a fish in his mouth.
You stare at each other for a long moment before your eyes wander down to a pile of fish. A large amount of fish. Laughter rolls from your lips, musical and manic as you bury your face in your hands.
You think the seal furrows his brow at you, dropping the fish in its mouth before plopping towards you. Plop. Plop. Plop. He looks at you with big dark eyes. Your mouth twitches between curling down into a frown and a smile that spread across your face. On one hand, you are confused. On the other hand, you were gonna be able eat some meat.
A concerned croon comes from the pup and your face decides that it would rather smile at the moment. You throw your arms around him, not at all caring about the seawater getting on your nightclothes.
"Thank you." You whisper and the seal answers with a happy trill.
Dick is over the moon.
He can't even help how loud his trills get. It's ok you don't seem to mind either. He's just happy that you get to eat now.... but you don't.
Dick's a little frustrated when you don't immediately start digging in. Instead, you go back inside your home, swear, shout in delight then come back out with a basin and a jar of white powder. You then run around to fill the basin with seawater then add what Dick finds out is salt into the seawater.
Dick is... concerned.
You go back inside the house. When you come out again, you have a knife in your hand. Dick waddles back a bit. He knows you won't hurt him but it's a habit. You develop these kinds of habits around Bruce.
You settle yourself onto the ground cross-legged and grab a fish. Dick looks on with mild curiosity. You begin to dismember the fish by cutting off it's head, cutting it up in the middle then removing the bones and stomach. That kind of makes sense, Dick thinks. The bones are kind of annoying. Dick nods his head agreeably until you toss the fish into the basin.
Dick looks on in utter confusion as you repeat the process with most of the fish he's brought you.
You turn to him looking equally befuddled before your eyes soften. You look sheepish. "Sorry pup, I can't eat all of this today so I'm salting them so I can eat them the next few..." You count the fish in the basin. "... weeks."
Dick tilts his head but doesn't say anything. You really should just eat more. Dick can get you more if you need it. You just need to ask but you seem content with what you're doing.
Dick is about to rest his head on your lap when you shoot up and scuttle back inside. You return with a line and a smile. Dick watches you string the fish up like laundry. He could probably help you but he has no clue if he should. Just eat the fish damn it.
Finally after what felt like forever, you start preparing the fish and actually eat. You offer Dick some and Dick has to admit cooking the fish does taste odd but not unpleasant. It's totally different from eating it raw (the better way) but it's not horrible. Or maybe it just tastes good because you've got the biggest grin on your face while eating.
Maybe.
Probably, Dick thinks as he munches on his fish, pressed to your side.
___
You sing at the top of your voice. It's a cheerful song but Dick can't quite make out the words. He knows it's human but he's not quite familiar with it. The tune is nice though. Dick rests his head on your lap closing his eyes.
He croons happily when you being to pet him.
You stop midway through the song dissolving into a fit, of what Dick can only describe as, giggles snorts. It was a despicably adorable sound that was engineered to make Dick feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside.
He looks up at you with big curious black eyes. He's not complaining but he hasn't heard you laugh this much before and he may or may not want to know how to make you laugh like this again.
When you don't answer his questioning gaze, Dick nudges against your chest. Your shoulders are still shaking but you manage to stop laughing for a moment.
"Sorry pup," you say wiping a tear from your eye, "I must look crazy to you. "
A little but not as bad as Bruce, Dick thinks. Bruce thinks you humans still don't know there are selkies on the island. Dick snorts at the idea. Everyone knows that all you humans know about selkies. That's why those men keep coming here trying to trap them.
You squish his face affectionately with your hands. "My dad taught me that song and I just realized..." Your mouth turns into a curved line of held back laughter. "...It's a sea shanty about missing being between a woman's legs." The last few words come out more as giggles than proper syllables but Dick can't enjoy that because he can feel his face warm up from the thought. He hides his face in his flippers.
You squeal, absolutely delighted with his mortification. Smiling down at him, you say: "Yanno pup, sometimes I think you understand me."
Thought process-wise, no.
Dick snuggles up to you again, blowing air out of his nose to voice his ascent. You can't just say things like that but again, you just simply seem amused by his suffering when you bend down to press a kiss to the top of his head.
Dick looks up when you pull away. No! Give him more!
Dick stretches up to return the favor, having to partially climb on your lap but only managing to boop your nose with his snout. You nuzzle your nose against his and Dick makes the happiest noise in the back of his throat.
Sometimes after wandering around you had a habit of falling asleep on the shore which Dick thought was fine until he found out that you couldn't swim. Dick being the only with brains in this duo always nudges you awake when the tide starts getting too close. Dick doubts the lapping water will wake you up before sweeping you away. After all, you managed to sleep through Tim, Kon, and Bart's rock piling contest on top of you. Dick shooed them away but even after cleaning up, you didn't wake up.
Dick sees the sailors on the shore and nudges you. You... don't even blink. You hum, content to bask in the sun as you wrap your arms around Dick. Dick huffs. He likes this but he really would prefer it if you move. Dick considers slipping from your grip and grabbing a fish to slap you with like last time.
Dick cranes his head to look at the ship again. It was far too close now, too close for you to get away without being seen by the sailors.
Dick turns you back over to your back and proceeds to body slam you with all his blubber. He winces when you make a choked noise. Dick can give you apology fish later.
"Pup, what the fuck?"
You see the ship. Your eyes widen then flicker to his injured fin. Dick had injured it when he’d been swimming by the docks and got caught in one of the old traps. You’ve done your best to help it heal but you only know so much. You’re still reading up on herbs in case it happens again.
You try in vain to push him off but he's a big loveable sack of blubber and he refuses to move. “C’mon pup, you need to move. They’ll try to catch you if they see you.” You grunt but the sack of blubber refuses to move.
You and Dick stay still as the ship draws near, neither of your chests rises or fall as the ship rocks back and forth.
The ship passes and you let your head fall back with a sigh.
Dick nuzzles his snout against your face, his whiskers tickling your face. You giggle and try to push him off. It’s useless so you let him stay there.
You both decide to take a nap on the shore with Dick huffing in your face once in a while as he snores.
You curl up on the floor in front of the fire, watching the embers flicker, flash, and fade. It's the best thing you can do to calm your fraying nerves. The storm rages outside violently as if it was trying to tear the lighthouse down brick by brick. The whole building shakes with another boom of thunder. You close your eyes and burrow under the thick blanket.
In the back of your mind, your father is chuckling. The absence of a hand on your head is disconcerting. You remind yourself that it won't come, that you'll have to learn to weather the storm alone. You sigh then tighten the blanket around you.
Tok. Tok. Tok.
You blink. The fire was dying. When had you fallen asleep?
Tok, tok, tok.
Blinking, you rub the sleep from your eyes, but the haze doesn’t lift, only growing as you watch the firelight.
Tok tok tok.
You shoot up and barrel towards the door with the frantic knocking growing louder and louder as your feet pound against the stone floor.
You run into the door in your haste. The loud thud of your body against the door causes the frantic knocks to turn into muffled shouting.
Prying yourself from the door, you open it and you don't know what you expected but this wasn't it.
Standing in front of you was a man soaked like a wet rat. You blink in confusion before pulling him inside. You run to grab him a blanket. Wait. You should probably get him a towel. No, wait. You should have gotten his name first. Fuck.
You shuffle back into the room with a towel, spare clothes, and an extra blanket. You.. what can generously be called a heart attack.
For the first time, in the soft glow of the fire, you can fully admire your guest. Not see, admire because there was a lot to admire.
The light of the fire flicking over the planes of his chest, with a light dusting of chest hair, the amber glow highlighting all the muscles of his body, framing the ripples of his toned figure. Swallowing any good sense you have, you watch the rainwater turn golden as it drips down his perfectly bronzed skin. The water cuts through valleys of muscle that could have only been handcrafted by gods. Your eyes follow the flow until... Oh.
You flush furiously, your face glowing brighter than the fire. He's- He's- Oh my god, he's naked.
You reign your eyes in. Ok, you let it linger down there a bit. Not long enough for your guest to notice. You concentrate on his face which wasn't hard to do. The man pushes his raven hair out of his face letting you fully appreciate his face. In keeping with his body, his fine boned face looked like Pygmalion himself spent hours shaping it, not satisfied until he's made the perfect face. It's handsome in an adorable way. Not intimidating. It's the kind of face you'd like to pepper with kisses. You try not to focus on his lips in case of any sinful thoughts. You just met the man. The only thing you will note is that yes, his lips do look absolutely kissable and it aggravates you.
The most striking feature however are his deep blue eyes. The kind of deep that you feel like you could drown in. The kind of depth that looked too pretty to agonize over the fact that your lungs are burning. You stare, trying to carve a perfect replica of those eyes into your mind. Those eyes... that are currently staring at you... as he steps closer... at an alarming speed.
You hold the stack of fabric in front of you like a shield. Your guest stops, looking at the stack. His face goes from concern to confusion to blinding enthusiasm. He was probably freezing.
A smile spreads on his face, the cutest dimples you've ever seen forming on his cheeks, as he accepts the stack. He thanks you and your heart leaps from your chest. Whatever chill you were experiencing from the storm was completely gone. You turn away from him, rubbing the back of your neck and mumbling a halfway point between 'no problem' and 'you're welcome'. You hope it came out as 'no welcome' instead of 'your problem'.
The man snorts and you are pretty sure which one came out. To save yourself the embarrassment, you walk to the kitchen and start preparing tea. The man thankfully occupies himself by looking at the assortment of knick-knacks you've hoarded gathered over the years. It gives you ample time to breathe.
"Do you like sugar in your tea?"
The man nods enthusiastically. You can't help but smile a little.
You sit next to him in front of the fireplace as you hand him his mug. He leans his head against your shoulder. You can feel his body radiating a comforting heat.
You two sit in silence, sipping tea and watching the fire flicker. You wanna scold him for slurping his tea. You're not exactly his mother. You don't even know his name.
You turn to him, face scrunched and about to ask him for his name when he surges forward. His lips brush against your lips as he nudges his nose against yours. You fall backward in shock and the stranger falls on top of you, his eyes still glowing bright and cool against the amber light.
There's a thrill working up your spine or is it fear? You squeeze your eyes shut and throw your arms over your face.
"Please don't hurt me." You plead barely above a whisper.
You feel the body above you lower itself on top of you. He chuckles and shakes his head. "(Y/n), you're being silly."
You open your eyes. The man is laying his body on top of you keeping you pinned down and he's... pouting at you?
"I- I don't know who you are. You can take what you want but please don't hurt me."
The pout deepens into a frown.
"(Y/n), I'm not gonna hurt you. Don't you recognize me?"
You blink. You would definitely remember someone this eye-catching. "You always sing that sea shanty to me. The one about the sailor who misses his wife's..." The stranger flushes and makes a hand gesture. Your face scrunches again. The only person you've sung that to aside from your dad is...
"Pup?!"
His frown morphs back into a pout. "I'm not even that little."
You squish his face with your hands before you let your mind wander. You think back to the scars crisscrossing his limbs and chest. "How is this possible?"
He laughs, prying your hands from his face. "I'm a selkie," He says as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. "My name is also Dick, not pup."
You stare up at him wide-eyed and stupefied. Dick snuggles against you like he always does. Somehow snuggling you in this form is better. He can hold you closer like this. You run your hand through his hair, fingers lacing through the tangles in his hair. He lets out an excited trill.
Dick might just be in heaven right now.
"I dunno how but you're somehow even prettier when I look at you in this form," Dick breathes contently. "I'm so lucky to have such a pretty wife."
You stiffen. Dick looks up at you and the confusion in your face wrenches a knife in his heart. He swallows. "That is what you meant with this, right?" Dick asks, tugging at the collar of his shirt.
Your mouth turns into various shapes trying to piece together a coherent response. It settles on the simplest one. "No."
Dick looks stricken like you'd taken a club to his head.
You reel back. "I just- I- I thought you were cold and you-"
Dick's heartaches. It's a dull ache. He thought this kind of thing would be sharp like having a hook pierce your heart.
His insides twist as he peels of you.
Your stomach sinks as you feel the cold fill your body once more. You don’t want him to go. The thought of being alone right now makes your stomach curdle. Your hands grip his shirt without meaning to. The look on his face hurts but the idea of him leaving felt unbearable. You know it's selfish but here you are begging him not to leave.
"Dick, I'm sorry... I didn't know... I-"
Thunder booms. You squeak and bury your face in his chest. You can't stand storms.
Dick smiles down at you softly. It's still pained but it's bearable.
He lays on his side and pulls you closer. He slots your face into his neck. You're still shivering even when he uses his body to shield you from the rest of the world.
You whisper another apology.
Dick shushes you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
The sunlight floods into the room like it does every morning but the room is still cold. Your mind works to understand what's wrong with this picture. Your hand pads beside you. The space next to you is empty save for the blanket left behind.
You sniffle, gripping the sheet in your hand. You messed up, you think, pulling it to your face. For the first time in months, the tears come easily. You lay there all day because the tears won't stop.
"If you sigh one more time, I am going to rip your throat out." Jason growls not bothering to open his eyes. Why would he? Dick has been flat and mopey for the past two weeks and Jason is really starting to miss his hyperactivity.
Dick lets out another mopey sigh. Jason. Is. Going. To. Scream.
"Can't you be depressing in Roy's direction? Or Bruce's?"
Dick sighs even louder at the mention of Bruce and Jason, for once, is considering murder or at least maiming.
"She doesn't love me back."Dick sniffles and Jason really should have known this had something to do with you.
He turns to Dick. "I'm going to regret asking but how do you know that?" The sooner he sorts Dick out, the sooner he gets to sleep. "Did she tell you to go away and never come back?"
"Well no-"
It's Jason's turn to sigh. "You fucking moron, What did she even say?"
"She said she didn't know." Dick lowers his head to the sand and Jason wants to slap him with his tail.
Jason is now fully awake and very ready to throttle Dick. Or he's just cranky. "Are you telling me Bruce was right?! This day just keeps getting worse."
Something seems to click in Dick's brain. "Oh, crap Bruce is right." He mutters stupidly.
Jason will take whatever consolation he can get out of this. "She probably thought you were just some random pervert flashing her then." Jason snickers. It's petty and childish but so is interrupting a well-deserved nap.
"What?"
Jason lets out an exasperated huff through his snout. He twists his body to look at Dick with minimal effort to lift his head. "Let's see, you turned up naked at her door and then you called her your wife and nearly kissed her in what? The space of 15 minutes?"
"I got confused." Dick sputters.
"Geez, I thought West was bad but you're just a disaster," Jason chuckles, "Oh! And you made the brilliant decision to leave without explanation," Jason is having far too much fun rubbing salt in the wound. "She probably feels terrible”.
"Are you guilt-tripping me?"
"Is it working?"
"What-" Dick growls. "Well, what do you want me to do?"
"Hmmmmm, have you tried talking? Yanno the thing Bruce never does. But seriously, I can’t believe you call her your wife and then abandon her." Jason shakes his head. "And you have the audacity to call yourself the smart one."
Dick strips out of his skin and begins running towards the lighthouse... naked.
Jason debates on letting him.... he probably shouldn't.
"Dickface!" Jason calls out.
Dick doesn't stop, face crumpled in determination and his little Richard swinging wildly as he walks.
Jason is gonna die of second-hand embarrassment.
"DICKFACE!"
"What?!" Dick asks turning around his hands on his hips. Like usual, his hip tilts to the side and his foot taps as he waits expectantly for Jason to gather a mildly coherent response.
"Your little Richard..." Jason says pointing with his fin.
Dick looks down and the look of mortification on his face is satisfactory. ".... Right. Shit."
"Just steal some from her laundry."
"But she'll be pissed."
"Ok, so you would rather flash her then?"
Dick sighs and this time Jason doesn't have the urge to throttle him only because Dick is already beating his own ego into a pulp. "I hate it when you make sense."
Jason raises a brow, setting his head back down to the warm sand. "I always make sense."
Dick just cackles in response as he heads to the lighthouse.
Dick shifts his weight on the balls of his feet. He feels sick like he'd eaten one of those pickled fish you made him one time. Maybe this was a bad idea. Why did he even listen to Jason? He flips onto his hands and begins to pace. His stomach feels like it's being tossed violently by ocean currents. It feels like a shapeless lump sitting in the pit of his abdomen. Maybe you're out or maybe you never wanna see him again.
Your face had been so blown wide with shock when he had called you wife that it looked almost foreign like the suggestion had been so audacious that your face had to reconstruct itself to accommodate the shock.
Dick puts a hand to his face trying to stem the flow of thought. He was such an idiot. Why did he assume you would love him like that and why did he just leave you? Dick closes his eyes and breathes. He'll knock just once more then leave if you don't answer.
Tok. Tok. Tok.
The knocks register just above a whisper. He thinks you don't hear it.
He lets out a breath and walks away. This was stupid. He should never have come back.
Jason was right. Fuck. Dick buries his face as he walks away.
Distantly, Dick hears the squeak of rusty hinges but it's lost in the tempest of thoughts plaguing his mind, in all the little hurts from that night.
"Pup?" The sound of your voice is followed by the pounding of your feet against stand. Dick's careening to the ground before he knows it as your body collides with his.
"Pup," you sniffle into his shirt, "it is you."
Dick twist in your grip so he's facing you. Your face is buried in his shirt. He strokes your hair, wrapping an arm around you, holding you tight. "Of course, it’s me. Who else would bug you at this hour?"
Dick feels his shirt grow warm. You mumble an apology.
You look up to face Dick with half your face still buried in his shirt. You've clearly been crying based on how red and puffy your eyes are. Dick's stomach churns at the dark circles under your eyes. He feels guilt stab him in the gut. All of that combined with your generally disheveled appearance. Dick can just tell that you haven't slept well the last few days.
"Let's go inside and talk." You say, peeling yourself off of him.
Dick shakes his head, not loosening his grip on your midsection. "Let's walk around you look like you need some sun."
You flushed and put a hand to your cheek. "Do I look that bad?" You ask absently, a shy smile creeping into your features.
Dick smiles at you and pushes your hair out of your face. "Never but the weather is sunny for once and we both need some air."
"So you really didn't know that the island was filled with selkies?" Dick asks, adjusting the infernal scarf you had forced him into. He insisted that he didn't need it. He could just cuddle up to you for warmth but you were equally stubborn about him wearing a coat and the wool monstrosity strangling him.
Your face scrunches up in confusion." I- I don't even know what that is."
Dick stops.
You slow down upon realizing he wasn't by your side anymore. "You... don't know what a selkie is?" He asks, his face the definition of dumbstruck.
You shrink into your coat." My dad wasn't interested in things like that," you shrug, "I dunno much about..." Your hand twists in a circle, reaching for the right words.
Dick tilts his head. That made sense. "You thought we were all just seals?"
You nod slowly, looking like you wanna shrivel up.
Dick starts laughing and you look like you're a second away from throwing yourself into the water.
"I'm sorry," he says, flailing. He's screwing this up again. He breathes to collect himself. "I just thought it's funny that we all thought my dad was wrong about you guys not knowing."
You rub the back of your neck. "Most of us mainlanders don't really believe in magic, yanno? It's just such a foreign concept. Kind of hard to wrap my head around it."
"I get that." The smile on his face makes your gut twist. You fiddle with your hands.
"So what are selkies?"
Dick tilts his head, not exactly sure of how to word it because how do you explain something that's been obvious to you since you can remember to someone who just found out about it a few weeks ago?
"We're fae, I guess-" Your face twists in confusion.
Dick needs to backtrack. "We're fae..." This is hard. "We have this human form and we have our seal forms. We switch between them using our pelt."
Your brow knits in confusion. "Which one is your true form then?"
Dick wraps his arm around your waist and holds you closer as you walk along the cliff tops. He hums as he thinks. "Both?"
You look up at him with a weary smile. “That makes sense in a way.” You hum. Swallowing thickly, you fiddle with your hands. "So what was with the... um..." You clear your throat. "What was with the wife thing?"
Dick’s mouth dries. “Well... when we want to ask someone to be our mate... we- we kind of give them our pelt and I thought it translated to human clothes…” He stammers out dumbly.
“Oh...oh!” Your eyes widen into a look of horror. You open and close your mouth trying to form words. “Dick, I didn’t realize , that must have - I’m sorry I hurt you.”
“Please don’t apologize,” Dick says and presses his lips to the top of your head. His lips are warm and comforting. “I’ve spent so long in love with you my brain just didn’t...” Dick’s mouth twists. “It just didn’t do what it was supposed to.”
You would definitely laugh at that last part but you’re still seeing stars from the startling confession he just hit you with. You snuggle tighter into his embrace as you look over the sea. You don’t know how to respond. You really don’t and it frustrates you. It was all just a lot to take in all at once like you’d been tossed into the sea and you’re flailing and grasping at water.
But if nothing else, you’re at least glad that Dick is still talking to you.
“If you don't mind…” Dick says carefully, the look in his eyes determined. “Would it be alright if I try and pursue you properly?” Dick braces for a no. He’s not dumb enough to be hopeful twice but he needs to ask.
Inevitably, you freeze. You pull his arm closer to your chest. Swallowing, you ask: “you mean like a human courtship?”
He nods closing his eyes. “Yes, I want to court you.” He coughs clearing his throat.
You’re silent for what felt like the longest 30 seconds of Dick’s life. Dick cracks one eye to see you fiddling with your hair. “Uh Dick, there’s this one problem that might make that difficult…”
Dick raises a brow. It wasn’t an outright rejection but it wasn’t an answer.
“I don't know how that works either.” You laugh nervously, burying your face in his arm.
“Good - then we don’t know if I’m doing it badly.” Dick beams with a blinding smile.
You twist to look at him, the corners of your mouth twitching. “That sounds like cheating.”
Dick snorts, “would you rather I court you the selkie way?”
“I mean it depends. What's the selkie way?”
“Fish.”
Dick startles when you let out a loud bark of laughter. “Fish? You’ve already done that so many times.” You giggle. Dick tries to wrangle his mind away from the fact that he can feel your lips through the thin fabric of the sweater.
“I thought it worked.” Dick sighs. He really did, but alas, miscommunication is a cruel mistress.
You lower your gaze trying to concentrate on the fraying needlework of his sweater. “Maybe it has.” You mumble low enough for a human not to hear. How unfortunate it is then that you’re dealing with a selkie.
Dick is beaming when you look up again. He nuzzles his face against yours. Dick is once again insanely, stupidly, incredibly happy.
__________________________________________________________________________
Because neither of you knew what you were doing, Dick's attempts to court you ranged from ridiculous (a literal mountain of fish that you ended up drying, giving away to the other seals, and selling to passing ships.) to ridiculously sweet (finding you handful of pearls). Dick nudged a little shell overflowing with pearls and looked up at you with liquid eyes. He could have gotten you pebbles and it would have been endearing.
It wasn't always gifts though.
Sometimes Dick would just sit quietly with you on the beach, snuggling against your leg as you scratched his stomach. You love the ways his squish vibrated as he purred.
When summer passed and it became unbearable to watch the stars outside, Dick sometimes spent nights in your lighthouse, wrapped up in your sheets or wrapped around you. It was nice having him around the house even if he was kind of a slob. You love him but he is a mess.
You made the mistake of introducing him to tea cakes and got him addicted to November Cakes specifically. As it turns out, your cute pest has a sweet tooth and will nuzzle you into submission just for another bite.
If you ever doubted that Dick was evil before, you now have proof.
During the winter, Dick insisted on staying in the lighthouse to keep you warm. You wanted to point out that you had a fireplace for a reason but it was so hard to turn down hugs from him.
And because you hadn't had the heart to clean out your father's room yet and Dick clearly preferred it, you let Dick sleep next to you on your cot. You felt a bit bad but Dick was just so happy with the arrangement that you didn't want to make him go away. Besides, it was nice to wake up to his sleeping face in the morning, all sleep rumpled and drooling.
__________________________________________________________________________
"Hey Jay, do you have a book on selkies?" Dick asks, caterpillaring on the rock Jason is sunbathing on.
Jason takes the opportunity to roll down the rock and knock Dick into the sea before saying: "No." It shall be put on record that there are no drama queens in the Wayne family.
Dick shakes off the seawater, big puppy eyes staring at Jason.
Jason glares at him. He can't even let Jason have a second of smugness. "Ask Selina."
No one really knows where Selina came from or why she stayed (well, they had their suspicions), but if you need something you can't find easily, your best bet was to ask her and hope she doesn't ask you to do anything ridiculously hard.
Dick hasn't had first hand experience but from what Bruce tells him, they're mostly silly things like recite poems or do a flip. He could do both those things. Well, depending on the poem. He gets tongue twisted sometimes. Hmmm, maybe he should ask if he can avoid tongue twisters so he won't bite his tongue.
Sloughing off his coat, Dick walks towards the glowing cauldron.
"Still no clothes pup? You're going to give a poor girl a heart attack." Selina tsked, reappearing from one of the other cave entrances with a handful of things Dick can't recognize.
"Oh... I- I'm still not used to it." He says sheepishly.
Selina chuckles, dumping the handful of what Dick can assume is plant debris into the cauldron while before dusting her hands off.
Dick stares at the thick vat. A bubble rises and bursts emitting what sounded like a human voice. "What is that? Should I be worried?"
"Oh no, no, this? This is just a little soup for colds."
"It screamed."
"All soups scream."
"I- anyway, I came here to ask if you have a book on selkies."
Selina tilts her head to the side. "I believe I do-"
"Great!"
"Buuuut..."
Of course, the price.
"I brought pearls and some seashells." He says hopefully.
The angle of her head does not change. Though from the gleam in her eyes, she's clearly interested.
"Tell me why you need the book."
Dick's thoughts halt. Should he tell Selina about you? His eyes dart to the boiling cauldron. "... Why do you need to know?"
Selina flourishes her hand. The book appears out of thin air."Do you want the book or not, pup?"
Dick's nerves pinch. Why does everyone call him that? "I need it to teach someone Selkie customs." He manages.
"Oh! The little lighthouse keeper!"
"You know her?"
Selina shrugs. "Do you really think I wouldn't know something going on about the islands nearby?" She pinches his cheek. "Oh little pup, I know about your little crush. You spend more time on land than you do in the sea these days. Dami's been all huffy about it."
He has.
"I've told you my reason." Dick says holding his hand out.
"Hnnnn, you have I suppose." Selina sighs.
Dick takes the book, putting it into a waterproof pouch before gingerly putting his pelt back on. He happily caterpillars out of the cave with the pouch in his mouth. He really hopes you'll like this.
You really should just fix up another cot for Dick at this point and maybe buy him a set of clothes when you go to town.
"It's too cold to sleep outside." Dick whines, flattening himself against you on the bed.
You lift your book to look at him. Dick just gives you that wide-eyed look when he wants something. You roll your eyes, letting him snuggle up to you. "Dick, it is obviously summer and you're like 40% blubber." You snort.
Dick pouts. "You're still gonna let me sleep here."
You scrunch your face up and sigh. "I can't exactly let you brace the summer cold, can I?" You say, running a hand through his hair.
"Eeeeeexactly." Dick says happily as snuggles into you tightly. He nuzzles his face into your neck wrapping his arms around your waist. You hum helplessly, curling into his embrace.
"See." Dick trills with a happy grin.
"Are you going to be smug about it all night?" You huff, throwing a blanket over the two of you.
"No," he says, "you assume I can't keep being smug 'til sunrise."
"Dork," you snicker, setting the book down. It was a book on selkie traditions that Dick had gotten you a few days ago. You devoured it the same night but you're reading it again and subtly testing things while Dick was invading your house. You hum, running your hand through his hair, fingernails lightly scraping against his scalp. Dick purrs against your chest. "There was a one eyed seal on the beach the other day. He was a grumpy fellow but kind of cute. Seals really are a sleepy lot. The big lug started snoozing on my lap after like 5 minutes."
Dick tense under your touch. He looks up at you seriously.
"That was a selkie." Dick deadpans.
You stop your rambling. "What?!"
"That grumpy one-eyed seal was a selkie." He repeats carefully.
Your breath stutters. "Are all of the seals on this island selkies? ALL OF THEM?" Dick is pretty sure your eyes are mounting an escape.
"All of them, darling." Dick nods.
"Oh." You are so screwed. "Do you guys all talk to each other?!" You shouldn't have told that seal about your little crush. You want the mattress to swallow you up.
"Yes? Should I be concerned?" Dick asks, lifting his head.
"No! No reason!" You squeal, shaking your head.
Dick pouts at you with suspicion. It occurs to you with some amusement that Dick is actually glaring. You wisely decide to sidestep the conversation.
"You guys love taking naps on people, huh?" You say, absently twining your fingers into Dick's hair. He settles his head against your chest. "That's just cus we like you." He hums.
A snort rips out of you. "You're just biased."
Dick looks up at you seriously again. "We selkies like pretty things like any fae." Dick says, wrapping his arms around you more tightly. He's being petty but Dick has always been protective of you and he isn't about to stop now. Besides... he doesn't want anyone stealing you away.
You frown at him. "Dick, there are far prettier things on this island and sweet talking won’t magically make November cakes appear." You huff, kissing the top of his head before picking up the book and using it to hide the smile shaping your lips.
You feel Dick pick himself up off of you. You peek over your book to watch Dick. He scoots closer to your face until the only thing separating you is the far too thin book in your hands.
"You don't believe me, do you?"
"No." You say. You don't mean it but it's the easiest thing to conjure up when Dick is this close. Your lips prickle from imagining Dick's lips against yours.
You weren't paying attention. Dick has apparently been going on a two-minute diatribe on how pretty you are and in that two minutes, Dick has managed to scoot even closer. He gently takes the book out of your hands to make sure you're paying attention. He fails to take into account the fact that his face is in fact distracting. Your eyes zero in on his very plush and very kissable lips. If you just lean forward a fraction, you could...
Your lips feel warm and soft against Dick's, the rest of his diatribe dying in the back of his throat as his eyes flutter shut. His mind might just be melting out of his ears because the only thing he can think about is how soft you are and how perfectly your lips fit against his.
"I'm sorry." You whisper shyly. You should be sorry, Dick thinks. Who told you to pull away?
You touch your fingers to your lips. Fuck, what did you just do?
"You can do it again." Please, he almost adds.
You lick your lips. Dick perks up and leans closer. His heart is going to leap out of his chest. You lean closer. Dick can feel his heart pounding against his rib cage.
You kiss Dick on the nose and pull away, hiding your lips behind your hand as you snicker. Dick scrunches his nose and blows air out of it.
"You know perfectly well what I meant." He huffs.
You lean back into your pillow, grinning at him. "I have absolutely no clue what you're on about." You say slowly, smug.
"Let me remind you then,"A grin takes over his face. Dick leans in, pressing his lips against yours. You exchange breaths as you drink in the feeling of each other's lips. Dick caresses your sides. He feels you shiver and he smiles into your lips. "That ring any bells?"
"Not really..." You say, flickering your eyes to him. "But if you try again... it might."
"Oh sweetheart, I can keep reminding you all night." Dick chuckles, winking.
Covering your face, you attempt to hide your embarrassment. You hate how easily he flusters you. "You can't just say stuff like that." You whimper.
"Why not? I'm supposed to be courting you and that includes buttering you up," Dick says, nuzzling your cheek. You're just too cute. Dick gently pries your hands away from your face. "Don't hide your face from me, Honey."
"Oh god, you're making me regret letting you court me."
"Never."
______________________________________________________________________
Dick's eyes are struggling to remain open as he watches the fire. He burrows further into the thick comforter you'd given him. It's not quite as warm as his pelt but the fabric is puffy and it has a sweet smell that makes his head swim.
Dick angles his head slightly to watch you. You've been toiling for hours and refuse to tell Dick what it is. Your back is still hunched over with your foot bouncing on the floor. Dick lets his eyes flutter shut, listening to the sound of your shuffling tools.
You glance down at the adorable mess dozing off on your sofa. You gently move his hair out of his face. He swats at you sleepily, face scrunched even as he sleeps. You sincerely wish you had Damian's talent for art or that you had one of those cameras. You really wish you could keep a picture of Dick's sleepy face. It's the cutest thing in the world.
"Hey Dickie," you whisper.
"Hmmmmm?" He groans.
"Could you hand me your pelt?"
"Sure," he moans, blindly padding around for it. You snort as he nearly falls off the sofa. After groping nearly every surface, he finally finds the pelt. "here you-"
The fur brushes your fingertips before Dick stops. Dick shoots up, nearly clipping your nose with his forehead. He's looking at you fully awake, drool still hanging off the corner of his lips."Are you sure?!"
"Hand it over coward." You smile gently at him. You try your best to fight off the excitement bubbling in your veins.
Dick is off the couch, his own excitement barely contained as his whole body vibrates with happiness. He sits up. You hold out your hand but instead of handing you his pelt, Dick drapes it over you like a wedding veil. It's thick and warm to the touch. You let your hands brush over the silken fur. You can feel magic thrumming from it. It feels like a minute current of electricity but it doesn't flow linearly. It ebbs and flows as it pleases, pulsing beneath your fingers. You burrow yourself in it.
Something warm spills in Dick's chest as he sees you wrapped up in his pelt. Dick kisses your nose. "You have now been wifed."
You twitch your nose. "You missed."
"Nope. Don't think so. Buuuuut if you show me where you want me to kiss you..."
You roll your eyes and surge forward, pressing your lips to his. Dick smiles into it, pulling you close and savoring the sensation of your lips melding together. He makes a happy trilling noise while you laugh against his lips.
"That clear enough, Dickie?" You ask, pressing your forehead against his.
"Yeah, I think I got it, wifey."
__________________________________________________________
THANKS FOR READING
Tag list: @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish , @birdy-bat-writes, @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-inkage, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell @hyp-oh-critical @glorified-red @ marshmallow12435 @vvipgot7be @jadedhillon
#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson imagine#dick grayson x you#dick grayson#dorks#seals#selkie x reader#selkie au
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Prompt- someone in class 1A bodyswaps with kirishima. For some reason they don't/can't tell their class. Whoever is in kiri body (your choice) has to deal with soft baku who either is about to confess or is already secretly dating kirishima
(Kiribaku Drabble Prompt)
OH MY GOD. I AM DEAD. JUST TAKE IT.
with love.
The alarm went off (supposedly) at exactly six o’clock in the morning just like it did every other morning from what felt like the beginning of time. But the tune that drifted over into his ears sounded a bit strange today, and the sheets felt a bit scratchier and heavier than he remembered them being, and - probably most importantly to note - Izuku hadn’t even needed to twitch a single muscle that morning before the blaring noise was being cut off again on its own and the room was plunged back into stifling silence.
Which all lead to the objectively horrifying conclusion that there was someone else in this bed with him.
Izuku tried not to notice how frantically his heart was pattering away inside his chest, and he kept his eyes closed to maybe continue to give off the absolutely false pretense of still being asleep, but it was no use.
He was effectively freaking out.
Why did this kind of stuff keep happening to him? First it was Aoyama leaving him cheese outside on his balcony and now this? Should he be telling somebody about these incidents? It was starting to feel like maybe it was time for him to tell somebody. All Might, maybe? Principal Nedzu? His mom?
But… that alarm… it hadn’t been set to the sound he was used to.
And these bed sheets... they were so familiar somehow...
Izuku swallowed down his rattled nerves as quietly as possible before he unfurled one of his shaking fists to touch more prominently at the heavy comforter currently all tangled up around his limbs that felt too warm, so very careful to avoid shifting too obviously or accidentally bumping into whoever the hell was next to him.
No... Izuku knew these sheets. The way that the material caught on the pads of his fingers and pulled at long forgotten memories too blurry in his adrenaline-filled state to properly see them, and that smell! He took in a deep, slow breath through his nose, and he recognized all of them. His brain prodded him with useless bombardments of dismembered images. A pillow. A blanket. A couch. A kitchen. A color. A voice.
Oh. No.
This was Kacchan’s room.
Why the hell was Izuku in Kacchan’s room?!
Why the hell was he in Kacchan’s bed?!?!
These were the exact same sheets, the same rough texture, the same familiar smell of a subtle bleach and a smoldering stack of firewood that had been ingrained into his memories since before he was old enough to even be fully self-aware of such significant sights and sounds and sensory triggers.
But this hand...
Izuku wiggled his fingers as carefully as he dared to, but it all felt wrong. The wrist was too wide, the tendons in his forearm were too strong and sturdy, like they’d never been strained or bruised before in their entire lives, fresh and limber and toned.
No. None of this was right.
“Oi, we fuckin’ gettin’ up or what?” Kacchan’s hoarse, early-morning voice cracked somewhere beside him before an equally rough palm smacked hard into his bare shoulder and startled Izuku’s eyes wide open with a chaotic lurch in the opposite direction as he rushed to sit up and put as much distance between them as possible.
Oh wow. Yeah. This was Kacchan’s room alright.
That poster used to be in his bedroom back at his parent’s place, and that snowboard leaning against the dresser in the corner had his signature orange stripe down a solid black background, and this was definitely the same navy-blue comforter that Izuku had always hated the feeling of ever since he was old enough to hate the way that things felt, and - holy cow - there was Kacchan.
Sleep torn and shirtless with his wayward spikes all pressed down flat on one side while he lifted a broad hand up to rub his battle-scarred knuckles into one of his blurry eyes. His lips tucked down into a petulant scowl and his eyebrows furrowed in the middle of his forehead the longer that Izuku continued to sit and stare at him with an open mouth as though he had just watched him grow another head.
Kacchan hasn’t tried to explode him yet.
Why hasn’t Kacchan tried to explode him yet?
“The fuck are you lookin’ at me like that for?” Kacchan griped in a moody manner as he reached out for a second time and pushed at his shoulder again, lighter, and with fingers that tried to linger for far too long. Izuku jumped at the unexpected contact and tried to back completely out of his reach, but the bed was much too small, and suddenly he was tumbling off onto the floor with a resounding groan of pain that sounded nothing like his own.
“Oi! Kirishima! The fuck is the matter with you?” Kacchan snapped in clear agitation as he glared over the edge of the bed down at Izuku’s rumpled figure lying in a heap on the floor.
Did he just say Kirishima?
Okay. Something really crazy must have happened last night. Something quirk related. Definitely something quirk related.
Izuku righted himself on the ground before he held up his hands in front of his face and gazed at the strong, muscular vein protruding on his right forearm that was most definitely not his own, and yeah, okay, he was in Kirishima’s body right now. That’s what this was – they had switched bodies. Which meant that Kirishima was probably in Izuku’s room, waking up as him and - aw man - that meant that Kirishima was going to see all of the new posters and action figures that he’d been adding to his collection since the first time when everyone had forced their way into his room and -
HOLY CRAP - Kirishima was sleeping in Kacchan’s room?! Since when??
“Did you wake up feelin’ even more dumb today or what?! If you don’t answer me right fucking now -”
It was the familiar sound of Kacchan’s explosions popping in the center of his palms that finally jarred Izuku back to the present; back to the reality of this very hazardous situation that he seemed to have found himself in. There was no way that he could tell Kacchan who he really was right now. He would kill him. He would murder him in cold blood. He would blast him to death until there was nothing left of him and then he would blast away all of the rest of his pieces just for fun.
Nope. Kacchan could not find out about this. It was just out of the question.
“Sorry!” And okay, his voice did sound a lot like Kirishima’s, that was good. Lower and scratchier with an adolescent edge in the process of dropping a few more octaves before reaching full maturity someday. He could work with that. “I was just having a dream. You startled me… d-dude!”
Kacchan frowned down at him with a suspicious, squinted gaze and Izuku tried to look as innocent as possible as he slowly lumbered back up onto his feet that felt foreign and unsteady under his new weight.
Wow. Izuku was tall. It might have only been a few more centimeters, but the height difference was already astounding. It would have been kind of nice if he had swapped places with someone who happened to be taller than Kacchan, though… oh well.
Speaking of Kacchan, he tracked Izuku’s movements with a laser-light precision while Izuku tried to remember how it was that people normally stood (because he seemed to have forgotten how to) before Kacchan suddenly tch’ed and slumped back down into his pillow with a careless arm thrown up and under his head. He smacked the empty space where Izuku had just been laying with his other free hand and glared expectantly.
“C’m back,” he demanded in a decidedly less than threatening manner.
Wow. This was really weird. Kirishima slept in Kacchan’s bed and Kacchan was okay with it? How often did this happen? How did they even get to this point where it had become so natural for them to share a bed like this? To wake up together like this? When did –
Kacchan’s lip twitched impatiently and he raised his hand up in a slow, dramatic arch as though to catch his eye and make sure that Izuku couldn’t miss how obviously the gesture was being directed at him.
“Eijirou,” Kacchan grunted out, with an incredibly uncomfortable amount of eye contact, and then he smacked the empty space beside him again.
Oh… my god. It was a summons. Izuku could not do that. He could not handle just… getting back into bed with him?! Not when he’d finally managed to escape from it. There had to be an excuse. He had to find an excuse.
“I have to pee –”
“I could not care less,” Kacchan snarked back before his strong fingers gripped bunches of the comforter into a tight hold as though he were physically restraining himself from doing something that Izuku didn’t want to know what it could possibly be.
“I-I’ll just be a minute,” Izuku tried to stumble out as nonchalantly as possible as he took a hurried step in the direction of the bathroom.
A loud creak echoing from the other side of the room halted him dead in his tracks, and he whipped around to spot Kacchan as he rolled up onto his knees in one swift movement and leaned forward, reaching out and grasping the end of the bed with two strong hands and looking ready to leap off the mattress and block Izuku from continuing.
“You really gonna make me chase after you?” Kacchan snorted an amused sort of sound under his breath as his biceps flexed dangerously and he readied himself to pounce.
Oh no. Not chase after. Never ever chase after.
“N-no!” Izuku managed to stammer out, but it was far too late. Kacchan had already made the decision to end him.
Izuku scrambled back as quickly as possible in an attempt to keep some distance between them, but it closed before he even had the chance to register that it was gone and then Kacchan was just there, far too close far too quickly, leaning into his space and wow, Izuku was so uncomfortable right now that he couldn’t even pretend to keep making eye contact anymore as he fidgeted restlessly in his new cornered position.
“You’re bein’ weirder than usual,” Kacchan stated firmly, but he had finally stopped trying to come closer which was all-in-all a very good thing.
“Sorry,” Izuku squeaked out again, clenching and unclenching Kirishima’s hands over and over as he desperately tried to pull himself together. He couldn’t help feeling so incredibly blind-sided by all of this. He had so many questions and no way to ask them – no way to understand, to know.
How long would it take for Kirishima to wake up and try to come and find him? Surely he would understand the significance of how much Izuku was finding out about right now that clearly nobody was ever meant to find out about.
Holy crap, and if Kacchan knew that it was Izuku of all people who had been the first one to find out about it?! To have seen it all unfold up close and personal like this? Oh man, it was all so very bad.
“Stop apologizin’ to me, that’s what’s so fucking weird,” Kacchan grumbled out in the same bitter tone, and Izuku tried not to stiffen when he raised a hand and pressed it into the bookshelf next to his head, leaning his weight onto it and squinting down at him like they might share an extraordinary telepathic moment.
Izuku opened his mouth, ready to apologize again completely on instinct, but any noise that was about to come out got strangled and lodged in his throat when Kacchan’s other hand came up and his thumb promptly hooked under his jaw and clamped his mouth shut before a dangerous palm slid into place and covered his mouth completely. Izuku’s heart started to race in this unfamiliar chest and his eyes widened as he waited with vein-twisting anxiety for Kacchan to blow his entire face away with a single blast.
But… he never did.
“Seriously fucking stop, Kirishima. ’S pissin’ me off,” Kacchan demanded again; stern and final. “There ain’t nothin’ to apologize for, understand?”
Izuku tried to calm his labored breathing as he watched Kacchan watch him back for a long moment, and the fingers around his jaw tightened in an unfamiliar manner before they were suddenly gone again. Kacchan pushed himself away from the bookshelf and started towards the bathroom with a loud, gruff yawn.
“Better fuckin’ hurry up, cause I ain’t savin’ you any hot water for a second shower,” Kacchan warned without looking back as he turned on the light and ducked inside the other room.
Izuku’s entire body jolted back to life at the sound of the water in the shower turning on, and when it finally clicked in his head what that thinly veiled threat entailed, he tore off in the direction of the hallway at top speeds, practically sprinting out of the room and absolutely refusing to look back even when he could hear Kacchan shouting incredulously after him.
He so did not have the mental capacity to even try and unpack any of what he had just gone through. His one and only objective was to find Kirishima and switch their bodies back as soon as possible so that he could go on with the rest of his life and pretend like none of that had ever even happened in the first place.
Yeah… that sounded nice.
For once – Izuku just really, really didn’t want to know any more details.
--- full fic out now ---
https://archiveofourown.org/works/34034215
#kiribaku#kiribaku fic#kiribaku drabble#bakugou katsuki#kirishima eijirou#midoriya izuku#drabble prompts#bakushima#bakushima fic#bnha fanfiction#mha fanfiction#bnha fanfic#mha fanfic#bnha#my hero academia#boku no hero academia
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The Queen and King: Chapter one
Summary: Y/N is the Queen of Guns and James ‘Bucky’ Barnes is the King of New York City. She wants him as a buyer, but Bucky wants her to be his queen. After all, every King needs a Queen.
Word Count: 2.1k
Warnings: this will be a +18 series, AU, Mafia!Bucky, Dark!Bucky, sexual tension, sex implied, mentions of murder and dismembered fingers (minor character), swearing.
Series Masterlist
Total Masterlist
Chapter One- The King
Y/N knew everything about James Buchanan Barnes, otherwise known as Bucky. The King of New York City. Nothing happened without him knowing about it. He was the most powerful man in the city. He ran the drugs through the area and killed any rival that dared to come into his territory. He had the police and politicians in his pocket and made smaller businesses pay him for protection. Y/N had plans for James. She was the lead gun seller in the eastern region, and she wanted him as buyer. She had infiltrated his second in command, Steve, meeting him and spending two weeks sleeping with him and trying to gather intel, but he kept his lips locked tight when it came to Bucky’s business. Y/N knew Bucky was currently buying his current gun supply from Brock Rumlow, one of her competitors. But she had already taken care of him, having some from her team kill him and chop off a finger to send to each of his buyers. The package for James had already been dropped off on his doorstep as proof of how serious she was. It was a very clear message- either join Y/N or she would tear you to shreds.
Bucky licked his lips as he watched his new club fill up with bodies. The music was loud and the bar was busy. Just what he liked to see. He sat at the round booth, Steve and Sam at either side of him. He nodded to one of the waitresses who promptly went to the bar to grab him a drink. He leaked power off of him. Everybody knew he was the King and he made sure to prove it every chance he got.
As the waitress was on the way bringing a glass full of dark whiskey, she was stopped by a woman wearing ankle high black boots with a heel, black shorts, and a tight maroon tank top, “I’ll take this.” Y/N hissed out to the wide eyed waitress, taking the drink from her hand. She turned to meet eyes with Bucky who had his eyebrows raised at the ordeal unfolding in front of him. Y/N could already tell she had captured his attention just as she wanted with the way he was eyeing her and the grin that rested on his lips. Y/N walked over to the table, tapping the glass with her index finger as she held it. She broke her gaze from Bucky to look to Steve, a smile appearing across her lips that were painted with a deep shade of red lipstick, “Stevie.” She sang out, making Steve snap his head around to look at her.
Steve looked at Y/N in shock seeing her while he was working. He stood quickly, “What’re you doing here, Y/N?” He asked. Y/N had been sleeping with him the past two weeks. He had told her nothing of the business he was into and nothing about the night club he would be at tonight. Steve had no idea how Y/N was here.
Y/N smiled at him, “That’s for me to know and for you to.. dot dot dot.” She said softly, keeping her gaze on his as she took a sip of the whiskey in the glass, leaving a red lip stain on the rim. She slid into the booth, taking Steve’s spot next to Bucky and sliding so close to him so their legs were touching. Steve sat back down on the other side of Y/N, a confused look on his features.
Bucky watched, his eyes flickering between Steve and the mysterious woman named Y/N. He was curious, was this the piece of ass Steve had been bragging about for the past two weeks? He raised an eyebrow as she slid in the booth next to him, watching her take another drink of his whiskey, “And what can I do for you, doll?” He mused curiously, a smile resting on his lips. He couldn’t believe Steve had scored such a beauty like her and keep it a secret from him. Bucky knew why Steve didn’t tell him though, she was gorgeous. A woman that Bucky would have no problem taking back to his bedroom and devouring. He licks his lips as he continued to look her up and down, undressing her with his eyes.
Y/N narrowed her eyes at him, “I heard you were looking for Rumlow.” She said shortly, taking the last swig of the whiskey and setting the glass down in front of Bucky, unflinching as the liquid slid down her throat with ease. Y/N could tell by the way Bucky was looking at her that she had his full attention. And Y/N couldn’t lie, those dark, powerful eyes on her made a small tingle shoot through her body. She had always been attracted to power, and Bucky was dripping with it. Not to mention he was very handsome and the darkness behind his gaze magnetized her.
Bucky shifted a little bit at her words. Rumlow was his main arms dealer and they were supposed to meet here tonight to sort out a gun shipment. But Rumlow was late which was very unlike him, “What are you? His messenger?” He asked, keeping a grin on his lips as he stretched both his arms on the top of the booth to spread across Y/N shoulder, reaching down the let his finger stroke her shoulder softly, fiddling with the strap to her top. He could already tell she wasn’t wearing a bra.
Y/N grinned at his words, leaning closer to him until her lips were brushing against his ear lobe, “A messenger? Fuck no.” She quickly slid herself onto his lap to face him, her hands running up Bucky’s chest as she licks her lips. Y/N could feel Steve and Sam watching her in shock, but she didn’t care. Bucky was attractive. He had the looks and the power she craved.
Bucky’s grin widened as Y/N moved onto his lap, dropping his hands to her waist. He knew he had an effect on women with the power and darkness that swelled around him, but this woman seemed different. She had the effect that seemed like she was a cat playing with a mouse. But Bucky was amused and allowed it to continue. He squeezed her hips, pulling her body roughly against his.
Y/N tilted her head at him, her eyes staring at his as the lights around them pulsed to the music, “You see, James,” She began, tilting her head so her hair slipped to one side of her neck, “Stevie blue eyes over there never spoke about your business, even after I gave him the best sex he’s ever had. But I’ve been watching you for a long time. I know you’re the King of New York.”
Bucky’s eyes flashed to Steve with a bit of anger and jealousy before returning to Y/N’s face, “You mean my club? Just opened, it wasn’t exactly a secret.” He said as a cover, wondering what exactly Y/N knew about him. Even if she did know about his drug running, he wasn’t just going to admit that blatantly even if the woman was as hypnotizing as Y/N.
“You were fucking me for information?” Steve asked suddenly, his jaw clenching as if he was angered by her comment. He should’ve known by how forward she was with him that there was some ulterior motive. She was always asking what he did as she drew small circles on his chest after they had sex but he never said a word about it.
Y/N looked over at Steve and put a pout look on her face, “Oh, don’t look so surprised, darling. You really think this,” She looked at Bucky, gently rolling her hips over his. Her eyes fluttered as she let a beautiful moan pass her lips. Her face snapped emotionless again after the act and she tilts her head at Steve, “Was real? Oh please. You’re far too gentle to have me make those noises.” She smirked at him.
Bucky gritted his teeth as she rolled her hips against his. Damn, she was good. The moan that passed her lips, even if was an act, made him want to be the cause of the sweet moan. He snaked his hands up her back, wanting to rip the tank top from her skin. He wanted her, right there and now. He stared up at her face with a grin, “And why would a woman like you be curious of my business?” He asks, leaning up so he could whisper it into her ear seductively.
Y/N looks to Bucky as he whispers to her. She snakes a hand up his chest and behind his neck, gripping his hair between her fingers and pulling his head back by his hair. She leans her face down to his until her lips were inches away from his, “You’ve been getting your guns from Rumlow the past couple years. That ends now.” She told him, “My name is Y/N Y/L/N. And you may be the King of New York City, James Barnes.” She brushes her lips along his cheek until she reached his ear, “But I am the Queen when it comes to guns in the eastern region. And I will be the one you’ll be doing business with from now on.” She bit his ear lightly before pulling her face back to smile at him, releasing his hair from her grasp. Y/N slipped out of Bucky’s grasp and slid over onto Steve’s lap giving him a deep kiss, her tongue rolling on his bottom lip as she separated, “And I’ll see you later. A girls got needs and maybe next time you’ll get it right.” She said as she slid off his lap and out of the booth. Y/N turned to look at Bucky, a smirk returning her lips, “I’ll be in touch.” She could see the jealousy in his eyes from her move with Steve. She could tell he was a possessive man that craved her.
Bucky couldn’t help but chuckle when she called herself a queen. Confidence leaked off of Y/N the same way it did from him. He could tell she was powerful. But more than that, she was the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen and had the fierce attitude to match it. And Bucky wanted her. He couldn’t help but frown a little as she kissed Steve. He looks at Y/N as she started to head out, “What happened to Rumlow? I just like to know if I need to clean up a loose end.” He said with a smirk, looking up and down her figure with his wanting gaze. The things he would do to her…
Y/N turned her attention back to Bucky, noticing him eye-fuck her. She licks her lips, “Oh, you’ll see him when you get home. Well, a piece of him. Just to let you know how serious I am when it comes to my business.” She said with a sinister smile before turning on her heels and promptly exiting the club, a few men following her out.
Bucky watched her go, licking his lips that were curved in a smile as he watched her leave, tilting his head as his gaze fixated on her ass. When she was out of view he wiped the smile from his lips, pointing his finger over at Steve, “You will not see her later. There will be no next time.” He growled out, rage flashing in his eyes showing he was serious. Bucky wanted Y/N all to himself. As of this moment, she was only his.
Steve looked at Bucky, seeing the darkness and rage in his boss’s eyes that meant he was deadly serious, “Of course, sir.” He said quickly with a stern nod, “Are we going to get into bed with her?” He asks, curious what Bucky was thinking. As his second in command, these were things Steve needed to know. Would they get into buying guns from Y/N?
Bucky sat back in the booth and a small grin returning to his lips. He spread his arms back across the top of the booth, “We will buy her guns. And I will be the only one getting into bed with her. She’s a Queen. And a Queen needs her King.” He said possessively. He could already imagine what he could do with Y/N, business and personal. Bucky would have her guns and would have her folded over his desk with him behind her at the same time.
#dark!bucky#dark!buckybarnes#dark!bucky x reader#mafia!bucky#mob!Bucky#Bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes au fanfiction#Bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x you#bucky barnes x you
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Yellow Carnations (Destiny Written in Begonias Part 1)
Spotify Playlist (collaborative)
Summary: After hearing something deep within the woods, you give into curiosity and investigate. Who knows, whatever you find could be a prize.
Warnings: Swearing, slightly graphic violence (just some zombies getting dismembered)
Word count: 3,715
(A/N): So, welcome to my new series! I have so many ideas for this that I’d love to write. This story will be very gay, fluffy, and sorta angsty, so buckle up my children!
So just a lil background info: the reader is Techno’s adopted daughter. She is a piglin hybrid, but she is more human looking than piglin. This takes place about eighteen years after the most recent events of the SMP.
✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯
“Techno, I think we have enough ender pearls for tonight.” You glanced to your side to look at your father and Philza, the enchantments of their armor glowing dimly in the moonlight and the orange light of the torches in their hands. Philza stretched his body and his wings out, a small groan escaping his mouth and small cracks sounding from his joints.
“The night’s still young, Phil!” Technoblade grinned, his gold capped canines glinting slightly. His hand moved to gently rest on the handle of his sword.
You snorted to yourself, “you two, however, aren’t.” A small shove came from your side making you stumble slightly, laughter bubbling from your throat.
“I’m just going to pretend that I didn’t hear anything,” Philza crossed his arms and looked off to the side. Though, you could hear a smile in his tone and the beginnings of a chuckle.
“I’m sorry,” you chuckled, “Dad set me up for that one. The opportunity was too good to pass up.”
“I’ll set you up for longer training sessions if you keep going for… ‘opportunities’ like that.” He glanced down at you with amusement glinting in his eyes and tugging at the corner of his lips.
His statement, though lighthearted, immediately made you stop laughing. You knew him well enough to know that he wasn’t joking; the last time you laughed it off you had to endure two extra hours on top of the four hour sessions you had daily. By the end of the punishment, your arms felt like they were going to fall off.
“No! I take it back, you guys are young! Not a single-”
“You’re digging yourself an early grave if you finish that sentence, kid. Besides, you can’t pass up opportunities like these!”
“I think I’m good for now,” you shivered slightly when a breeze blew past you. It was starting to grow colder as the night dragged on. Technoblade, noticing this, wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close to him securely. Though the Blood God never shows mercy, he couldn’t let his only child succumb to a head cold; that’d just be barbaric.
You jumped at the feeling of the freezing netherite making contact with your bare arm. “Sorry,” he murmured sheepishly, “forgot how cold the armor is… We should probably head back, it’s getting cold.”
As your family started to make their way back towards the tundra, banter was exchanged between the three. The journey out of the forest was uneventful, only a few mobs had attempted to attack or sneak behind you. Just as you reached the edge of the forest, a noise caught your attention.
It sounded like it was only a couple of minutes away; so faint that if you weren’t actively listening for it, it would have nearly been lost in the night. If you strained your ears, you could hear the trampling of dry leaves making you assume that there were several people or animals in that area. Alongside it, there was a faint whimpering.
Your curiosity was piqued, just what was making that noise?
“(Y/n), is everything alright?” You looked back at Philza. It seemed that they walked a bit away from you while you stopped at the forest’s edge to listen to the sound.
You absentmindedly nodded, “yeah, Uncle Phil. I think I left my bow back in that clearing when we were taking a break so I’m just going to go grab that. You guys can keep going home, I’ll be right behind you.”
“We can go with you-”
“No, you don’t have to. I’m old enough to go alone.”
Philza and Technoblade then spoke at the same time, “alright, we’ll just meet you there.” “Absolutely not.”
Philza elbowed Technoblade’s side lightly and looked up at him. They were silently communicating with pointed looks and pursed lips, every expression understood completely by the other. You never understood how they did that, even if they raised you. You could remember making a journal dedicated to deciphering their expressions, but you never could truly understand it (that, and ‘nose scrunch and eye narrow’ meant multiple things).
Eventually, Technoblade’s shoulders slumped and he ran a hand down his face tiredly, “you know the rules?”
You rolled your eyes, “of course I do. Fight to win, go for the throat, if you lose your weapon go for the pressure points. You remind me daily.”
He stared at you for a moment before his ear flicked, “don’t take long, we’ll be waiting.” They both turned and started to trudge towards the spruce forest in the distance.
Without a second thought, you ran into the forest with your ears perked. Following the noise was easy, the whimpers had turned into high pitched whines. You leapt over stumps and ducked under low hanging branches as they blocked your way; nothing was going to stop you from finding out what was making that noise.
Eventually, you broke through the trees and found yourself in a grassy clearing surrounded by large stones. If it were spring, you’d imagine wildflowers sprouting everywhere you stepped. A small spring sat in the furthest corner of it, waterfalls cascading over the jagged stones and crashing into the water below. Near the cliffside, a hoard of groaning zombies swarmed something and they were closing in on it. Now, what was it they were attacking?
You quickly unsheathed your golden sword and sprinted towards the hoard. The crunching of the dried, colorful leaves under your feet was enough to drag the zombies’ attention to you.
Adrenaline coursed through your veins as you made your first swipe at one of their torsos. In an instant, the zombie was bisected and fell to the ground. With a twirl, you slashed at multiple zombies at once. They all collapsed to the ground as their rotting flesh was torn and couldn’t support their crumbling bodies any longer.
As soon as all of the zombies were laying dead on the ground, you wiped your blade off on one of their torn tunics and sheathed it. Taking a step back to look at the bodies littered on the floor, you smirked; this was too easy.
Now, without the obstacles, your prize awaits you. Eagerly, you looked over to see what the zombies were swarming. Instead of the scared villager you were expecting, the person that stood there completely took your breath away.
The woman was wearing a simple white dress with a baby blue shawl shadowing the upper part of her face. Her skin was fair and her face was round, a button nose laid in the center of her face and plump pink lips slightly parted showing off straight white teeth. Curly dark brown hair framed the sides of her face and spiraled down to rest on her shoulders.
She was tall for a human, about five-foot-ten if you were to estimate. Her hands moved to clasp in front of her elegantly, your eyes catching sight of light blue nailpolish decorating her perfectly shaped nails.
Red was starting to dust her cheeks and her breathing was starting to return to normal. That was good, at least she wasn’t going into shock. For someone who nearly got eaten alive by the undead, she looked relatively calm and well put together.
“Are you alright?” You tried to keep your voice even, but there was a light wobble to it. You thickly swallowed, cursing yourself for showing any emotion in front of this stranger. The mask that hid the upper part of your face gave you a sense of security and safety, it hid most of your emotion.
You saw her lips move, but no sound came out. Were you going deaf like your father? You shouldn’t be; you haven’t blown up an entire nation yet. You stepped closer in hopes of hearing her better, “excuse me?”
Her lips curled up into a smile, dimples appearing on her cheeks, “Oh, I just said that I’m fine, nothing else. May I get the name of my knight in shining armor?”
Her voice was soft and light. Though it was on the deeper side, it had feminine, euphonious undertones; it was like honey was dripping out with every word she spoke. Just by the way she spoke, you assumed that she came from the nearby kingdom.
You smirked, playing along with the small game she was setting up. Stepping closer and kneeling, you grabbed her hand and brought it to your lips. Her hands were soft and velvety, a part of you longed to hold it in yours all day long.
Against her knuckles, you spoke, “(Y/n) Blade at your service. And you, my fairest lady?”
“Princess Helen Dahlia Eret, but please, call me Dahlia; Helen was my mother. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
You snorted, she was really dedicated to this game. You’d just play along with her, why not? It’s not like you have anything else to do. “Well, princess, it’s about time for you to head back to your castle.”
You looked up at her through your eyelashes and caught sight of the outline of her shadowed features. You could see her purse her lips, “you think I’m lying, don’t you?”
“Forgive me for thinking so, your highness!” You snickered, “the princess shall not step foot outside of her chambers, lest a scrape shall mar her flawless skin!”
She smirked before placing a delicate finger underneath your chin, tilting it upwards. You could feel your face grow hot as she removed her shawl. Ivory white eyes stared back at you smugly, sending a shock through your body. You weren’t sure if the jolt you felt was from her beauty or from the fact that she wasn’t lying.
“Would you like to try again, my knight?” She cooed to you, her other hand coming down to rest on your cheek. You stood up and gaped at her, “oh fuck, you’re actually the princess.”
A part of you wanted to dislike her for her title and for the royal blood that coursed through her veins. That blood tainted her, filling every nook and cranny with vile corruption. “All governments are bad,” Technoblade had taught you early on in your life, “they should, under no circumstances, be trusted.”
Though her parent Eret had been a fair king, always attending to the needs of their people, you were anticipating their corruption. If your memory serves you right, they were the one that betrayed the revolutionaries during the L’manberg Revolution simply because of their thirst for power. If they were a power hungry traitor before, who’s to say that they won’t be blinded by it again?
Every fiber in your body screamed at you to sink your sword through her abdomen to put her down, just like the bloodthirsty hounds that hailed long before her. You could just end her right now, make it quick and just leave her body here. It’d be easy and it would bring chaos to the SMP Kingdom, causing mass paranoia and tearing it apart from within. It’d be delicious, something that would give you a high you’d ride for years. You wanted to paint the grass with her blood, but something deep within you protested.
Filthy blood nourished her body, but that didn’t take away from her sheer and complete beauty or the way she covered her mouth with a delicate hand to hide her laugh. That did not take away from how she had cupped your cheek moments before, your skin still tingled where her hand was. That didn’t suppress the butterflies that fluttered wildly in your stomach when she stepped into the moonlight.
She put her hand out and smiled, “won’t you accompany me to my castle, my faithful warrior?” You merely put on a cold, uncaring facade and side stepped her.
“...You got yourself here, yes? You can find your way back.”
“Well you see,” she moved to rub the back of her neck and awkwardly chuckled, “I was hoping you know the way back?”
You couldn’t stop the snort that escaped your mouth, something about her made her irresistible. “You’ve got to be kidding me, you just ran blindly into a forest?”
“Hey, you would too if you were being chased by zombies!”
“Excuse me, who was the one that just slaughtered said zombies in under a minute?” You raised an eyebrow and looked down at her.
“I don’t have a sword like you do,” she crossed her arms over her chest and glared up at you.
“Even then, I doubt you know how to use one. Here,” you unsheathed the large sword and held it out to her, “I bet you can’t even hold it up.”
“Can too!” She protested before snatching the sword out of your hands. She grunted slightly at the heavy weight, almost dropping it, but she quickly steadied it. Looking up at you with a smug, slightly reddened face, she shook slightly. “See? It’s not that hard.”
You quirked an eyebrow beneath your mask, “oh really?”
“Y-yep,” was all she managed to choke out before she stepped back and dropped the tip. It swung down and buried itself inside the dirt below, scouring the earth as it made contact.
Smirking at her, you took it back with ease, putting it back into its sheath slung around your back. You once again stepped around her and started walking in the other direction.
“Where are you going?!”
“To the castle, you said you wanted me to take you home.”
She rushed to your side and grabbed your arm with both of her hands. They snaked around your bicep and tangled themselves in your cape. You could feel yourself soar at the contact; you had to fight against every instinct to hook your arm with hers. You ripped yourself out of her embrace and put some distance between the both of you.
She crossed her arms and hugged herself, shivering slightly, “how are you not cold?!”
“It’s barely cold out here,” you mentally scolded yourself for being a hypocrite, “you’ll be fine.”
She said nothing and continued to walk. As you got further and further into the forest, she merely started shivering more. You could hear her teeth chattering loudly and could see goosebumps decorating the skin on her bare arms. Sighing, you unhooked your cape and slung it over her shoulders.
She squeaked in surprise at the feeling before realizing that you gave her your cape. She grabbed the edges and pulled it closer to her before snuggling deeper into the cloth; you could feel your heart explode at the small sigh that she let out and the content hum that left her mouth. Just as she looked up at you, you made quick work of looking away. The ground was very fascinating at the moment.
“Thank you,” she murmured. You just curtly nodded, avoiding looking at her.
The walk to the castle was short, luckily she hadn’t run far from her home. Just as the castle walls were in your sights, she tried holding your arm again. Once again, you stepped away from her.
“C’mon,” she chuckled, “I don’t bite.”
“Well I do. You really need to learn not to trust a stranger, princess.”
“Well, we aren’t strangers. We know each other’s names, do we not? And besides, I bet you’re just a massive teddy bear.”
“I don’t know what your teddy bears looked like as a kid, but they certainly weren’t me. If I wanted to, I could take your hand clean off with a single twist and pull,” you growled out. She was silent once more as she led you towards a specific part of the castle.
“...Why are you so defensive? At least treat me like you did before we knew each other!” She unhooked the cape and shoved it towards you. You gladly took it and put it back on. To your sheer embarrassment, you felt joy as you caught a whiff of books and expensive perfume. It smelled like her.
“...I could’ve just left you back there if I wanted to, consider this a favor. Respect is earned, not given. Even to royalty.”
You turned to leave, you cape swishing behind you as you turned. Before you could walk off, a hand on your arm stopped you. “Wait. Even if you’re a massive jerk,” she sighed out, “I still have to thank you. So, thank you for saving my life; I’m indebted to you, my douchey knight.”
She leant up on the tips of her toes and gently placed her lips on your cheek. You froze and watched as she turned on her heel. She walked towards the entrance with several glances back at you, some of them being smug and others being questioning. It was like you were entranced underneath the veil of a spell, unable to move until she disappeared from sight.
The walk home was quiet with no mobs sneaking up on you. The entire time, the memory of her kissing your cheek replayed endlessly in your head. Though the very thing you disliked more than anything was embodied in her, you couldn’t help but fall for the natural charm she had. You were probably just tired, it was getting late into the night after all.
As you walked through the door, you could see Technoblade impatiently waiting for you on the couch. He had a book open in his hand and his half-rimmed glasses were perched on the bridge of his snout.
“You’re late.”
“Sorry, I just ran into more mobs than I anticipated.”
Technoblade said nothing as his eyes flickered over your body, looking for even the smallest of scrapes. When he didn’t find anything, he nodded to himself and stood up. Tiredly, he walked over to you and ruffled your hair before trudging to his room.
“Are you sure the only thing you ran into was mobs?”
“Yeah,” you cleared your throat, “just a lot of zombies.”
He rolled his eyes and gave you a knowing smile before walking over to you. He swiped his thumb across your cheek and showed it to you. It was stained with a light pink color. “In all of the centuries I spent living in this world, not once have I seen a zombie wearing pink lipstick or,” he took your cape in his hand and sniffed it slightly, “cherry scented perfume.”
Your face exploded in heat as you made hasty work of scrubbing your cheek making the older man laugh quietly at you, “all you’re doing is smudging it all over your face. Some warm water and soap will get it off fast… Now, wanna tell me who gave you that?”
You stared at his smug expression and quickly came to the realization that he wouldn’t let this go unless you told him. Or, at least until you told him what happened.
You sighed and started to remove your armor, placing it on the armor stand situated between Philza’s and Technoblade’s armor. You had insisted that the armor stands were in this specific order, it just made sense with the height differences between the members of the household. Since you were between Philza’s and Technoblade’s height at 6’4 (and still growing), it made sense with the order of the armor in terms of size.
You made your way over to the couch and sat down with a sigh, Philza following suit. He gave you a reassuring smile, “whenever you’re ready.”
So you told him everything that had happened that day. Needless to say, Philza was happy for you, asking you questions about the interaction.
“It sounds like she’s perfect for you, kiddo.”
“That’s the thing, Uncle Phil. She isn’t,” you ran a hand down your face and leaned back onto the back of the couch, your head resting on the top of the cushion. You heard Philza shift slightly before he grabbed your hand.
“Now,” he asked gently, “what makes you think that?”
“She’s King Eret’s daughter. Helen Dahlia Eret,” you sardonically chuckled, “I really thought she was just joking when she said ‘princess’.” Every part of you wished that that was a joke. That she would laugh and tell you that it was part of the game she was playing. But no, she just had to be royalty.
“Eret’s better than most, they are a good king,” he reminded you.
“Still, there’s royal blood in her. She’s actively a part of a government… I wanted to kill her on the spot; hell everything in my body was screaming at me to slaughter her, but I didn’t. I couldn’t.”
“Sometimes, someone is more than the blood inside of them; maybe she isn’t as bad as you think she is. Someone could be born into a family of saints and still destroy everything they touch. On the other hand, someone could be born surrounded by the lowest of humanity and grow up to become the best person you’ll ever meet. You have to understand that blood isn’t everything to a person’s character.”
You didn’t say anything, contemplating what he said. She didn’t seem like someone to rule with an iron fist, and neither did her parent. Tubbo was the first person to come to mind. He was raised by a malicious, tyrannical idiot, a man that had valued absolute power and booze over anything else. Your uncle turned out to be the most caring person you’ve ever met, always making sure that those around him are in a good mood even if he himself wasn’t.
However, it’s best to be cautious of somebody. Your mind flashed back to Wilbur and Dream, the two men rotting away in Pandora’s Vault together until either their time alive is up or time itself expires. They were charismatic and kind on the outside, but on the inside, they are two of the most heinous men you’ve ever met.
It seemed like your mind was running in circles, bouncing between both conclusions like it was being slammed between two surfaces.
“...Do you think you’ll see her again?” Philza asked you, rubbing a thumb over your knuckles and squeezing it comfortingly when you didn’t respond immediately.
You sighed, standing up and walking out of the room, “if the odds are in our favor, we won’t see each other any time soon.”
✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯
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Series taglist (comment if you want to be added):
#philza x reader#technoblade x reader#mcyt x reader#dream smp x reader#destiny written in begonias#female reader#x reader#wlw reader#tw: swearing#tw: violence
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Green Thumb
Part 22
Request: Yes or No
The outro for Endgame was real nice especially with all the Avenger actors at the end.
~
"We could always go back to Wakanda. Get a nice farm." Bucky said, shrugging lightly. You smiled softly.
"You haven't even taken me out yet." You crossed your arms, looking at him. Bucky grinned, metal hand going to your waist.
"Alright.. We're should I take you? A nice restaurant?"
"Surprise me, Ocean Eyes." You answered, grin widening. Buckys' brows raised slightly at the nickname, humming softly.
"Would it be too soon to..?" Bucky trailed off, head tilting with a playful expression. You placed a hand on the back of his head, pulling him close and kissing him. Buckys' froze, skin flushing. You giggled, pulling back and seeing his red cheeks. Bucky cleared his throat, shaking his head.
"What? Surprised?" You tilted your head. Bucky leaned forward, pressing his lips against yours and pulling you close. You heard whistles and chuckles, turning your head to look at Sam and Steve. Steve gave you a smile and a nod. You glanced down at the flowers that had bloomed at your feet, a small giggle leaving you.
"Hands to yourself, Barnes!" Sam called, arms crossing as he and Steve approached you and Bucky. Steve gave him a smile.
"Don't do anything stupid till I get back."
"How can I? You're taking all the stupid with you." Bucky replied, smiling. He gave his best friend a hug, patting his shoulder.
"Keep an eye on him, will ya?" Steve shot you a wink. You chuckled, nodding.
"No worries. I'll keep them both out of trouble until you get back. I promise." You smiled softly. You glanced at Bucky, noticing the sad look in his eyes. You looked back at Steve as he climbed on the platform.
"Bucky, is he..?" You looked at Bucky with furrowed brows. Bucky stayed silent, nodding. Your lips parted, placing a hand on his arm.
"Oh." You made eye contact with Steve before he disappeared. Bruce looked over the controls when Steve didn't return.
"Where is he?" Sam asked, glancing at Bruce.
"I don't know. He blew right by his time stamp." Bruce told him. Bucky let out a soft sigh, giving you a forced smile.
"Come on." You turned around with him, noticing a man sitting on a bench. Bucky noticed him too, squinting slightly as Sam and Bruce bickered.
"Sam." Bucky called, getting his attention. Sam looked over, approaching you and Bucky. His gaze landed on the man. You walked forward with the two, stopping some feet away.
"Go ahead." Bucky said softly, looking at Sam. It seemed like he had already made his peace with it. You gently rested your head against his shoulder as Sam walked forward. Sam and Steve quietly chatted before Steve handed the shield over to him. A smile spread across your face. Sam looked back at Bucky and got a nod in return. Sam picked it up, sliding it on his arm.
"He deserves it." You said quietly, watching them with a soft gaze. You looked at your phone, licking your lips.
"I actually have to go. Wanda wants me to go with her somewhere." You told Bucky, leaning up and kissing his cheek.
"Let me know about that date." You patted his shoulder. Bucky smiled, nodding.
"Will do, tiger." You chuckled at the nickname, walking away. You headed towards the facility, seeing Wanda waiting in a car. You went into a job, approaching the car and getting in.
"Hey." You breathed out, reaching over and hugging her. Wanda returned it, sighing. The hug lasted for a while before Wanda pulled back, sniffling.
"Sorry, I'm.." She shook her head, wiping away her tears with the sleeve of her cardigan.
"It's okay, Wanda. I cried like a baby for 5 years and sometimes I still cry." You told her with a small smile. Wanda let out a soft chuckle.
"When does it get better?" She asked quietly, looking at you with watery eyes. You hummed, putting on your seatbelt.
"I'll let you know when it does." You replied. Truth be told, you expected the emptiness to go away once everyone had returned but it lingered, always weighting down on your chest. Wanda put the car on drive and drove away from the facility. You listened to the soft song playing on the radio.
"So.. Where exactly are we going?" You asked, turning your head to look at her. Wanda bit her bottom lip, staring forward.
"To get Visions body." She glanced at you. Your brows furrowed, head tilting.
"I thought Tony had him retrieved from Wakanda." You said, straightening up. Wandas' jaw clenched, head shaking.
"No, well, I don't know. I want him to have a proper funeral. Like Stark did. Natasha deserves one too, even if the casket is empty." Wanda said. You nodded, staring at the road ahead. All Natasha had gotten were some tears and a bench thrown into the sky.
"Yeah, I agree." You mumbled, sighing.
"Wanda, I'm.. I'm sorry. I should've made sure that his body-"
"I don't blame you. You lost me, Sam, Bucky, and your family all at once. I wouldn't have been able to handle it like you." Wanda said, glancing at you with a small smile. You gently reached out, touching her cheek. Wanda let out a shakey sigh, leaning into your touch.
"The organization is called S.W.O.R.D. I don't know what they want with him but whatever it is.. They don't need him. He needs to be put to rest." Wanda said softly.
"I know, Wanda. We'll find a way to do it." You gave her a reassuring smile. Wanda returned it with a weak smile of her own. You looked down at the root bracelets, sighing softly.
"You don't have to put on an act for me." Wanda said softly. "I've known you long enough to know when you force smiles and try to be.. Happy. Sam notices it too."
"Maybe the fake happiness will morph into real happiness." You mumbled.
"What is grief, if not love persevering? Vis said that to me once while I.. While I was still dealing with Pietro passing." Wanda told you gently. You smiled softly.
"I miss him." You whispered, sighing. You noticed a building up ahead, straightening up. Wanda parked and got out of the war, the saddness replaced with determination. You followed her, entering the building. Your gaze flickered up to the videos of families being reunited after the blip.
"Wanda, slow down." You quickly sped up, matching her pace. Wanda approached the front desk.
"I need Visions body."
"I'm sorry, ma'am, I can't allow you to-"
"Please, I need his body." Wanda stared at the man in desperation. You placed a gentle hand on her back.
"I'm sorry-"
"When I came back.. He was gone. His body.. And I know he's here. He deserves a funeral, at the very least. I deserve it." You could feel Wanda tense under your hand. The man sighed before answering a call. Your gaze trailed upward, noticing a security camera. You gently drummed your fingers, getting Wandas' attention. She stared straight at the camera with a deathly glare.
"Alright.." The man put the phone down, looking at you and the redhead.
"Through the doors, down the hall, two lefts and a right." The man said. Wanda nodded, walking towards the doors.
"One minute, sir, you can't go in with her. Ma'am let me buzz you in-"
"He comes with me." Wanda called back, opening the doors with her powers. You gave the man a small shrug, following your friend. You ignored the glances from the workers, mumbling the directions under your breath. Wanda stopped infront of a door. You heard it beep, watching Wanda throw it open.
"Wanda Maximoff, (Y/N) Barton.. It's an honour to meet you." A man stood up, walking around the table.
"I'm Director Hayward." Hayward introduced himself. You were wiring, brows furrowing as you turned your head towards the glass. Hayward noticed, clearing his throat and walking towards a glass door. He opened it, letting you and Wanda through. Your gaze flickered to what was below. At first, you were confused at the mess of wires until it clicked. Your brows relaxed, a breath leaving you.
"Oh." You whispered, earning a confused look from Wanda. She took a closer look, realization slowly washing over her. A soft grunt left you, staring at Visions' head. The person you onced called a friend was laying below you, dismembered and being torn apart.
"Stop.. Stop.." Wanda whispered, hands pressing against the glass. She whipped around to look at Hayward.
"Why are you doing this to him?"
"We're dismantling a weapon."
"Visions not a weapon. He couldn't hurt a fly." You muttered, looking at Hayward with a glare.
"You can't do this to him!" Wanda said with teary eyes.
"We're in our legal and ethical obligation-"
"I just want to bury him." Wanda breathed out. "That's it."
"Are you sure?"
"Excuse me?" You and Wanda said simultaneously. Hayward cleared his throat.
"Not everyone has the power that could bring her soulmate back online." Hayward explained. "Forgive me.. Back to life." He corrected himself.
"I can't do that." Wanda stared at him. "It's not why I'm here."
"Okay, but I can't let you take 3 billion dollars worth of vibranium just to put it in the ground."
"Vision's not an 'it', asshole." You huffed, eyeing him.
"Sorry.. The best I can let you do is say goodbye to him here." Hayward said.
"He isn't yours, Wanda." Wanda stayed silent, jaw clenching. Her fingers touched the glass, staring down at Vision before making the glass explode. Hayward ducked, covering his face from the glass. Wanda lowered herself down into the room as guards entered. You turned your head to look at Hayward.
"You'd make Stark disappointed." You mumbled, looking back down. You used the air in the room to safely drop down into the room as Hayward called off his men. Wanda slowly approached Visions' body, looking him over. She hovered her hand over his head, a soft whimper leaving her.
"I can't feel you.." She whispered, a tear sliding down her cheek. She placed her hand on his head, sighing softly. She turned towards you, sniffling. You wrapped an arm around her, walking towards the exit.
"I couldn't.. He wasn't there." She choked out, sobbing softly. You rubbed her arm, gently taking the car keys from her. Wanda sniffled as you walked towards the car. She went around towards the passenger seat, getting in. She stared up at the car roof, brows furrowing when she noticed a paper sticking. She pulled down the sun blocker, opening up the paper.
"What is it?" You asked softly, turning the car on and reversing out of the parking spot.
"A plan.. Vision wanted us to move and start over." Wanda said softly. You frowned, gaze softening.
"You can stop by the facility. I have somewhere else to go." Wanda said, glancing at you.
"Are you sure you want to be alone, Wanda?" You asked gently. Wanda nodded, letting out a dry chuckle.
"Wouldn't be anything new." You sighed softly. The drive back was silent but you didn't mind. Wanda needed space and time to deal with everything. You parked the car and got out, looking at her.
"I'll be in touch. We don't have to talk just.. Let me know you're okay and I'll leave it." You told her. Wanda nodded, arms gently wrapping around you. You hugged her back, sighing softly.
"Stay safe." You whispered.
"You too." Wanda pulled back, giving you a small smile before getting in the car. You watched her drive away, sighing softly.
"You alright?" You turned your head, seeing Sam. You smiled softly, nodding.
"Why wouldn't I be?" You stared at Sam. His features soften, brows raising in question. You could feel your eyes begin to water.
"He didn't look like Vision." You whispered, voice threatening to crack as you sniffled. Sam frowned, arms gently wrapping around you.
"Vision was nothing but a sweetheart. He didn't deserve it."
"I know, I know.." Sam gently stroked your hair, letting you cry into his chest.
"I'm sorry you've had to go through these past few years alone. I owe you one for taking care of Sarah and the boys." Sam said softly. You leaned back slightly, looking up at him.
"I couldn't leave her in the dark."
"Which is why I'm thankful." Sam gave you a gentle smile, thumb gently wiping away a tear.
"I missed you, Sam." You whispered, head resting on his shoulder. Sam rubbed your back, letting out a heavy sigh.
"I'm here now and I'm not going away. No matter how much Bucky complains. I have no issue thirdwheeling to annoy the fuck out of him." Sam said, grinning. You smiled, chuckling softly as you stepped back.
"Do.. Do you really like him?" Sam asked softly.
"I want to get to know him. He has a past and.. So do I. I don't know everything about myself so.. Our relationship will always be a work in progress while we heal and learn." You told him.
"You could always be with someone who doesn't have that much baggage."
"Like you?"
~~~~~~
Tags: @geek-and-proud @wolfelocksley @babyvisionisamenace @jjk-is-my-shit
#x reader#x you#x y/n#x male reader#x male!reader#marvel#marvel x reader#marvel x male reader#marvel x you#avengers#avengers x male reader#avengers x reader#avengers x you#avengers x y/n#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x reader#sam wilson x reader#sam wilson#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#vision
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Friendliness
A/N - ha so i just wrote this - no editing we die like men. here’s the alternate ending to my other post Likeability (this one is the more predictable one y’all will probably like whoops) if you’ve read the other one, just skip to the end it’s all the same in the middle
Summary - The Team meets a very unfriendly scientist which Spencer’s taken a fancy to
W/C - 2.9k (whoops)
Warnings - Mild Anatomy/bones/etc discussion, a pinch and change of swearing
----
Luke is holding his stomach in his hands. He could usually pride himself on keeping his cool, keeping his head—and stomach—together during a case. He’d seen enough dead bodies that this shouldn’t have thrown him like he’d just sailed twelve foot waves in a dingy.
But he is, after all, standing over a mass grave. Watching a too giddy scientist dig up the bodies.
You’ve captured everyone’s attention, for various reasons. Rossi is vaguely amused by your joyous shouting of bones and your rat moustached assistant. Luke can’t tear his eyes away from the car wreck—are you supposed to swing bones around like baseball bats? Reid seems more interested in your bad jokes and coveralls than he is in solving the case.
The rat assistant—Stewart Walsh—squeezes between Luke and Reid, scuttling like some kind of diseased turtle. “Doctor Y/L/N!”
You barely stop pouring over the mud covered pelvis in your hands to even acknowledge him.
“I just thought you should know that Dr. Evanston just got here.”
You look up, toss the bone to him, and snort. “Tell him the soil samples are four miles due east from here.”
“What’s wrong with Evanston?” Luke asks to no one in particular it seems, waving Stewart off to run for a group of approaching nerds in coveralls.
Ignoring the question or maybe Luke, you just turn back to your search. Elbow deep in mud, being nice must not have been on the to-do list. Reid leans over, hands in his pockets, and whispers, “Evanston stole one of her research papers. I thought he was going to get his teeth kicked in—“
“Skull!” you holler. Luke isn’t stupid enough to miss the glare reserved for the sheepish Dr. Reid.
He clears his throat. “Thoughts so far, doctor?”
“I’m thinking beetles,” is all you say before turning back to your skull. Luke might not know many scientists, but he doesn’t think that most of them look at human skulls like its the Mona Lisa. Like this fat piece of bone held the answers to the universe inside its empty eye sockets.
“Beetles?” Luke coughs. Rossi just shakes his head. Pretends this isn’t a conversation he’s having. Reid is still studying you like Luke might study infiltration schematics. Stewart runs up, out of breath, very rose coloured.
You’re eyes are sparkling as you wade over to them with a new radius bone in your hands. Everyone bends like they know what they’re looking at and you point along the edge of the bone. “It’s a subtle difference but these bones have been cleaned before being buried. My guess is carrion beetles. They’re very hard workers. And—“ you switch to pointing at the radial head— “minute scoring and kerf marks. These look pretty old, so I’m assuming we’re getting close to the bottom.”
“So our unsub dismembered his victims,” Rossi begins, “then cleaned the pieces?”
You nod and hand off the bone to a very blushing Stewart. “I won’t know for sure until I’ve had a chance to examine all the bones. There’s nothing definitive yet. What a hobbyist though, right?”
You chuckle to yourself and dive back into fishing out more finger and wrist bones. Luke turns, runs his hands over his face, and hikes a thumb over his shoulder. “Where did we find her?”
Rossi shrugs, “FBI easter egg hunt.” Luke blinks, while Rossi chuckles at his gullibility. “Come on, the doctor’s the best in the field. Good kid, I can tell.”
“Y/N’s great,” Spencer absently adds on, too busy staring at you. You’re explaining different types of dismemberment to Stewart like you’re discussing the rain. Luke grips onto his stomach just a little tighter.
“Y/N, huh?” Luke teases, momentarily forgetting the unsettling feeling in his gut about you. “You two, uh, friends or something?”
It’s Reid’s turn to stumble. “Yeah, but it’s—we’re just—we’re just—.”
Rossi shakes his head, slaps Reid on the shoulder. “Oh yeah, just friends. So, tell me. Do you talk about dismemberment before or after you make out?”
#
JJ wants to beg Emily not to make her go down into the basement. You’re down there. She knows it’s childish to be this avoidant—you are just a person after all. A creepy, psychopathic weirdo that makes JJ’s gut churn. She gets why Spencer’s taken to you—shared love of science and random trivia. She does. But that doesn’t mean JJ enjoys the cold ass morgue, smiling along as you ramble. Most of everyone’s limited contact with you has involved random facts and Stewart’s too intimate knowledge of fracture patterns.
There had been ten minutes of reassurance from Emily that you were, in fact, not a horrible person. Ended with JJ making the cold and dark trek down to the morgue. She couldn’t imagine working down here all day long. No one to talk to, no one to strategise with, no where to go. Maybe it suited you. No one would have to listen.
“—don’t know what to do!” echoes across the bottom of the stairwell, the morgue’s doors cracked open. The distress breaks JJ’s heart. Your voice stops her dead in her tracks.
“They don’t hate you,” Spencer’s voice comes after. Gentler, softer. “They—they just don’t know you yet.”
“They don’t want to, Spence!” and JJ winces with the words. It always hurt more when the truth came out in that tone. “I get it! You know? I work with human remains and don’t bring my people skills with me when I’m on the job, but—that shouldn’t matter!”
JJ winces again, tries to ignore how those are nothing short of teary sniffles echoing through her ears. She leans back against the wall and has no idea what to do. Spencer had obviously been down here for hours. Knew you well enough to get the teary truth. What could she do now? Interrupt?
She’d walked into hostage situations less freakin’ stressful than this.
“You’re right,” Spencer soothes, steadfast and strong, “it doesn’t matter. This isn’t—“
“It’s not your fault,” you sigh. JJ doesn’t want to hear the strangled touch to your voice. Doesn��t want to hear the break. “They’re your friends and I’m just your—“
“Doctor!” Stewart calls and JJ could scream. You’re his what?
At least, it’s as good as any moment to intrude.
“What, Stewart?” you snapped, already broken away from Spencer with wet cheeks and stained glasses. You wipe them off haphazardly with the tail end of Spencer’s sweater sleeve—JJ couldn’t help but smile, even if it’s a little strangled.
Stewart jumps like a wet cat and tosses a bundle of files into your hands. “Beetles.”
One word snatches the tears from your face. Snatches you away from Spencer’s side for one of the dozen skeletons on the tables. There was no reason to think that she’ll get her report from you now. With a rib bone in one hand and contemplation in your features—JJ can’t decide how unnerved she is—you’re a little too concentrated.
Stewart scuttles around you. A little too attentive. A little too cherry tinted. Yep. No reports to be had from either of you. JJ turned to Spencer instead, hoping that maybe he’d be helpful. Plastered up like a billboard, JJ knows that saccharine smile isn’t going to get her anywhere.
“Spence?”
He hums, halfheartedly tearing his eyes away. “Yeah?”
“I need the latest report for Emily, but I don’t think—“
“I’ll—just a second, JJ.” Spencer grins, sugary sweet, and slips away. JJ doesn’t miss how he places a hand on your shoulder as he passes. How you barely even notice that quite intimate contact. She also doesn’t miss how Stewart’s face sours at the action, how his eyes narrow enough that Spencer feasibly should’ve noticed.
Reports in hand a minute later, JJ leans over to Spencer. Elbows him in the arm. “Stewart seems pretty jealous. Any reason for that?”
Spencer shrugs. “Wouldn’t know a thing about it.”
#
Rossi doesn’t have an opinion. Everyone keeps asking—oh Rossi, you’re the wisest of us all, what should we do about poor little Y/N? He doesn’t know, doesn’t care. You are just some scientist who is doing a thousand percent better job than any other forensics ‘expert’ he’s had the pleasure of working with.
Your lab doesn’t smell. You don’t smell. Is there anything more to ask for?
But he does get the brute of having to make the trek down to the morgue—god, his knees alone—and receives most of the reports from the not as horrible as everyone thinks Dr. Y/N Y/L/N. Who is joyfully humming while squinting over one of the skeleton’s hands.
“Hey, doc,” he calls and you look up at him with an adorable sort of grin. “Got anything new?”
“Sure,” you chirp. Hesitate to wave him over. “If you want the details, that is.”
Rossi shakes his head, pulls up a stool to sit next to you and your subject. “I like to have as much knowledge as I can. You never know what will lead you to your un-sub.”
You settle your elbows on the table, straighten a stray finger bone. The team shouldn’t be worried about you being a psychopath. You’re dedicated, careful, attentive. Rossi hopes that if he ever gets turned into human remains, you’re the one looking over him. There’s been more care put into one skeleton than into his three combined marriages.
“You’re in luck,” you answer, “I’ve got a lot to tell you about our attacker. You’ve got time, right?”
Rossi nods, smiles. “Plenty.”
#
Penelope still hasn’t met you and that kind of pisses her off. You haven’t made it upstairs once? She flies into some dingy Wyoming hovel of a police station for like a week and no one’s thought to bring you upstairs? Rude.
She’s sitting in JJ’s desk chair, waiting for her and Luke to get back from interviewing a potential lead—some ex-felon who fit your makeshift profile. Reid’s scouring over some boring geographical profile, trying not to get annoyed as she nervously—angrily—rants about the case to him. She knows he’s tuning her out, but her work’s been put on the back burner until someone comes up with something to give her.
There’s only so much a computer can find and she’s no profiler.
It’s about five minutes after Reid snapped and left to get a coffee refill, when she picks up a call from the desk. “Hello?”
Creaking metal and shuddering breathing comes first. “Set the scalpel down” comes second. She swallows, silent, and panicking. What the heck is she supposed to do? Paying attention to those hostage negotiation seminars that she definitely didn’t go to would’ve come in handy right about now.
Said scalpel clatters onto some metal table, followed by a strong, “You really don’t want to do this. Please put the gun down.”
Oh god, this is happening.
“You just—“ a male voice snips, bellowing out, “YOU DON’T LOOK AT ME.”
“I do look at you, Stewart,” you plead just as JJ and Luke clamour through the bullpen’s door. Penelope puts the call on speaker, mutes it, and screams for them.
“I don’t know what to do,” Penelope sobs professionally, “someone’s got a gun.”
JJ runs for Emily’s office while Reid returns heedlessly. Luke puts a soft hand on Penelope’s cold one and squeezes. Newbie or not, it’s appreciated as the man’s voice returns. “I’ve tried for so long to get you to—to just—just look at me! I’ve done so much!”
“I know, Stewart,” you ease and Reid tenses. Nearly drops his coffee. “It’s not your fault. You’ve worked so hard.”
“Yeah,” Stewart sobs; Penelope can only imagine how crazy this kid must be.
“Did you leave all those bodies for me, Stewart?” you question and everyone holds their breath. Luke squeezes harder on her hand. Reid’s twitching like a rabbit’s nose, a death grip on his mug, frozen as a Michigan pond.
Stewart sniffles. Probably nods. Penelope doesn’t know whether to run or sit or cry. She decides it’s probably cry, but instead her fingers start moving to record the call, trace the office origin.
“It was a great puzzle, Stewart, it was really genius. It was a fun case to follow, you know that.” You swallow hard, metal tinkles through the speaker. Please, Penelope begs, don’t let them kill each other. I haven’t met the doctor yet!
“Why did you kill these girls, Stewart?” your voice is so gentle and lulling Penelope almost forgets that she’s listening to you try to save your own life.
“I wanted you to look,” he says, sniffles. “I wanted you. I want you, Y/N. I want you to love me.”
It’s either her computer beeping or someone falling through a table or a gunshot. She doesn’t know. She’s crying too hard to care.
#
Tara doesn’t know when she started to run—probably just after JJ, Luke, and Reid barrelled passed her by the bathroom shouting about the situation—but she’s almost to the morgue doors, right on Reid’s heels. Lord almighty, she feels so stupid. She’d had enough little one on one chats with Stewart to know he was some sort of psycho in disguise. To know that something was wrong with that kid. No one could last more than three minutes with your grad student assistant without wanting to take an eyeball out—his or theirs it didn’t matter. She’d let herself believe you when you told her that all forensic anthropologists seem like that. That there was nothing to worry about.
Nothing to worry about her ass.
Luke’s the first to storm the morgue, expecting what Tara is: you, dead, on the floor with Stewart on the brink of killing himself. But they stop and they stare and Reid beams on with the absurd look on your face.
You’re shaking with rage, pointing a gun at a very unconscious, crumpled, bleeding Stewart Walsh. Your teeth are bared in what Tara would consider out of a comic book—ludicrous and of someone who’s completely lost their mind. JJ makes the mistake of asking if you’re alright.
“Alright?” you chirp, feral and ravenous. JJ and Luke shrink back as you shout, “I lived in Honduras for three years! This isn’t even the worst thing that’s happened to me. It’s my third fucking kidnapping!”
“T-third?” Luke croaks.
“Third!” you shout again and recklessly set your gun on the table. Spencer grins, which sets you off further. “I’ve been nice. I’ve been accommodating. But this is my fourth psychotic grad student! I fucking swear—!”
Stewart groans—thank god he’s alive—and Spencer, thankfully, rushes forward to catch you before you can take anything else out on the kid. Tara’s heard rumours about mysterious other instances of your being under arrest. Illegal transportation of goods was one thing, police brutality was another. The scalpel sticking out of his knee is bad enough.
She helps Luke haul Stewart to his feet, reeking of desperation and a much needed psych eval. JJ follows close behind, closes the morgue doors behind them. But not before they hear your muffled sobs and Spencer’s smiling.
“You got him, Y/N.”
“No, Spence,” you correct, and Tara can’t help but be proud, “I kicked the snot out of him.”
#
Emily is barely awake when she sees it. JJ’s soft breathing next to her is lulling by itself, let alone if you add in Rossi’s rhythmic snoring and Luke’s idle whispers of sleep talk. Emily could do with some sleep and maybe a few days off. They could all use a few days off, especially after coming to terms with the fact a grad student had killed 12 women just to get a little action.
From a scientist who freely admitted to enjoying the company of bones over real people.
Alive people.
No wonder Stewart had done what he’d done.
Emily turns in her spot, lays back against the wall of the airplane and the seat. After nearly five decades—she’s never thinking about that again—of plane rides, she can comfortably say she can sleep anywhere. With any amount of noise, or cold, or pain.
But her eyes are accidentally open when she peaks around the seat cushion. Spies the Wild Dr. Reid in his natural habitat, reading some ridiculously long book and…carding his fingers through your hair? He’s got a lock curled up around his finger, gently twisting it as he reads. You’re sleeping—knocked the fuck out—in his lap, gripping loosely onto his leg.
You deserve the sleep, Emily decides with a smile. You’d worked the hardest on the case, up for nearly four days with as little rest as you can manage. How Stewart managed to stay awake enough to attack you is beyond Emily. She’s missed out on a few hours just today and she’s losing the battle with her eyelids.
No one ever asked her opinion of you. Probably didn’t have to. You were not the easiest to like, but you’d captured her respect and a bit of her heart when you’d said at the beginning of the case: “I’m an excavator by trade—I’m at archeological digs most of the time—so it’s hard to wrap my head around the fact that these ladies are murder victims. I don’t think I’ll sleep until I’ve got names for them. And maybe the murderer on my table.”
Emily understood the unease, the apprehension. Why everyone was relieved when you’d turned down the plane ride she’d offered you. How they all bit back groans when Emily had insisted. But they’ll have to get used to it, Emily thinks and she settles again. Because they’ll see you again. No doubt about it. The way you’re wrapped up around Spencer, how you hold tighter when the jet bounces a touch, says just that much anyway.
#no editing lads#dr spencer reid#spencer reid#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfiction#reid#reid x reader#spencer reid x y/n#reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#Criminal Minds#criminal minds fanfiction
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Part XXVII: Captive
Author’s Notes: N/A
Genre: Angst
Summary: Joel and the rest of his patrol group find themselves in danger. You become emotional after receiving some startling results.
Ship: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Joel leaned forward against the counter as he wrote his entry into the log book. There wasn’t much to say. The little log cabin that acted as their first checkpoint was clear of any danger and showed no signs of tampering since the last entry. He closed the book and looked back at his two patrol partners. Marcus and Glen were resting in their respective spots. Joel figured it was time for him to do the same when he saw a shadow pass in front of one of the living room windows. His brows furrowed as his focus heightened. It could have been a number of things that he saw. Glen noticed his hardened demeanor and asked what was wrong. All Joel did in response was put one finger over his lips and wrapped the fingers of his other hand around the handle of his pistol.
One of the floorboards that made up the porch creaked. The sound went away just as quickly as it appeared as if a competent being had known they made a mistake and removed their foot from it. It was at this point, Joel knew it wasn’t just some lost deer roaming around the premises. The other men followed suit and aimed their guns at the entry points. The air was very still save from the dust particles that floated in ray of sunlight across the living room. It was also eerily quiet. The three of them exchanged quick glances. Joel was about to walk up to the door when it swung open from the outside. A small group of men rushed in and immediately opened fire.
Joel ducked and crawled over to the kitchen. He flipped the table over to use it as a shield. His thoughts immediately settled on the safety of his partners before he peeked his head out to see where everyone was. Marcus was hiding behind the couch. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he stuck his hand out to shoot blindly at the attackers. Joel popped up from behind the table to shoot them. A bullet hit one of the men’s shoulder while another managed to hit another in the cheek, rendering him useless. He ducked back behind his makeshift shield a split second before a bullet could graze him.
The attackers were currently distracted by Marcus shooting at them again. Joel took this opportunity to crawl away and find another place for cover to catch them at a different angle. As soon as he peeked his head around the other side of the table, he saw a pool of fresh blood. His eyes followed it to the source to reveal Glen laying on the floor. His eyes stared blankly out at the wall in front of where his body laid. Joel quickly took cover behind the table again and gathered himself for a second before making a run for it.
With a rush of adrenaline, Joel shot at the attackers which inadvertently covered Marcus as he ran to another place of cover. He managed to wound them, but not kill any. They took cover behind the same couch Marcus used. During the few moments of stalemate, he noticed that only two took cover and if he killed one early, then that left one more…Joel’s vision suddenly went black a split second after a sharp pain shot through his head.
A pounding ache tormented Joel’s entire head. His vision first came back blurry then all at once clear. He pushed himself up from the cold cement floor into a sitting position. He noticed that it was significantly colder than before as he instinctively shivered. Large hunks of meat hung from hooks attached to the ceiling. His legs almost felt foreign under his weight as he got up. The sound of metal hitting something hard echoed into the room he was in. Following the source of the sound, he accidentally bumped into one of the hunks. As it swayed back and forth on the hook, Joel noticed features familiar to him. His eyes darted from the hair around the belly button to the nipples at the top. They widened in realization that the hunks of meat were human torsos and that the men who attacked him were cannibals.
A loud chop brought his attention back, leading him to cautiously follow the sound again. Quietly, he picked up a lead pipe off of a shelf on his way. He came to a halt at the doorway. A strange man’s back was to Joel as he hovered over a naked body on the table. One of the legs was already detached and pushed aside, almost falling off the table. The cannibal lifted his hand with the cleaver to do the same with the other leg when Joel ran up to him and pressed the pipe against his throat from behind. He gagged as the knife fell out of his hand. Joel applied more pressure against his windpipe as he brought his arms into his chest. His eyes flashed over to the bloody body on the table. If it wasn’t for the cannibal leaving the head on, he wouldn't have recognized him as his patrol partner, Marcus. Just like Glen, his eyes looked blankly on. They focused on a spot beyond Joel.
He released the pipe from its position against his throat and let him drop to the floor. Rage overtook him as he instead swung the pipe against his head. He kept at it until he was sure that he was dead. Even then, he wanted to add a couple more swings, but he knew that he wasn’t the only one he’d have to fight to get out of there. It wasn’t worth getting caught or spending extra energy on if he stayed to beat his head into a pulp. Hesitantly, he approached the dismembered body on the table and closed his partner’s eyelids before moving on to the next room.
******
Your foot tapped against the floor almost uncontrollably as you waited. You let your head fall into your hands as to avoid staring down at the stick on the counter. The sound of the door swinging open caused you to pop your head up to find Ellie on the other side of the bathroom.
“Uh, sorry. I forgot to knock.” She said in a low tone. It looked like she needed to pee, so you swiftly ushered her in and closed the door behind you. As the door clicked, you forgot to take the stick with you. Pacing back and forth in front of the bathroom door, you listened as she flushed the toilet and turned on the faucet. Surely she saw it just sitting there. You only stopped when she opened the door again. She stood there in front of you silently for a few moments. “Is that yours?” Her head nodded in the direction of the counter.
“Mmhmm.” You hummed and nodded. “Is it ready?”
Ellie turned and hovered over the stick. “Does two lines mean it’s ready?”
“Oh my God.” You whispered. “Fuck.” You began repeating the expletive before sitting back down on the edge of the tub.
You grabbed the stick to double check for yourself and there it was, two very distinct lines. If one line was faded, you would try to convince the nurse to administer you another test, but this seemed pretty definitive. You didn’t know how to feel. On one hand, you wanted this, but you still couldn’t help the nerves that flared up across your body. Guilt began to rise as you regretted not waiting for Joel to do this with. He would know how to feel. You continued to sit there, imagining him sitting on the edge of the tub with you. He’d take the test from your hands and double check the instructions from the box before smiling. You would imagine him engulfing you in a hug, tucking his head in your neck and mumbling some words of joy that you couldn’t quite discern.
Though the daydream offered a sense of comfort, you were snapped out of it when a real pair of arms wrapped themselves around your middle. You looked down and saw Ellie sitting next to you on the edge of the tub. She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t need to. Her presence, while an accidental invasion of privacy, was welcomed. You repositioned yourself in her arms to hug her back.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to curse in front of you.” You whispered into her hair.
“I’ve heard worse.” She replied with a playful tone in her voice.
“Can I ask you a favor?”
“Mmhmm.” She hummed lightly.
“That this stays between us.” You wipe a tear away. “I have to talk to Joel and then the doctor.”
“Who am I going to tell?” She said, referencing the fact that you’d never seen her converse with anyone else since she first spoke in front of you and Joel.
*******
“Hey, Tommy, give me a hand with this.” A resident of Jackson yelled out. Your head whipped around in his direction. You’d been looking for Tommy all day. The resident was sitting down near the stables trying to get a horseshoe off a huff. Tommy stepped out of the shelter and came into your view.
“Tommy, hey! I hope you’re not busy now. I’ve been looking for you actually.” You said when you got closer to them.
He bent down to get a closer look at the huff. “I always have time for you; you’re family. Now what’s wrong?”
“Well, Joel and ‘em aren’t back yet from their patrol. They were scheduled to be back two days ago. I know sometimes things happen that delay their travels---”
“Exactly.” He finally pulled the horseshoe off and tossed it into the dirt. “Any number of things could have happened out there that caused them to veer off plan. Those three are some of our most experienced patrolmen. We both know firsthand what Joel is capable of.” He noticed that his words were not easing the worry written across your face. “Did you know that I spent five extra days out on one of my patrols. It was the toughest route I ever did, but every decision we made as a group was for the betterment of our survival even if it meant staying out there a little longer. Five days really isn’t normal though. I’ll tell you what, I’ll get on the walkie and ask our scavenging group to see if they see any signs of them heading back. They should still be close enough to catch Jackson’s frequency. Their route is right next to Joel’s; it should be no problem for them.”
“And what if they don’t see any signs?”
“You know what our emergency policy is. We send out a search and rescue crew if the original group is not back within six days.”
“Does that not seem like it’s too long to you?” You asked.
“Like I said, especially on longer routes, they can be delayed for a number of reasons. I know it's not what you want to hear, but we’ve wasted resources and lost lives in the past to premature rescue missions.”
“Tommy, that’s your brother! Wouldn’t you want him to go out looking for you if you were out there possibly in trouble?” You said frustratingly.
“I know he would go out and look for me when it was time. Everybody who is cleared to patrol knows what the emergency rescue policy is. They were trained for situations like this just as you were. I’m sorry.” Tommy placed a hand on your shoulder as he tried to find compliance in your eyes. “I left my radio in the stable. I’ll go and try to contact the scavenging group now. Hopefully they are still in range.” You nodded before he walked off.
#TLOU#TLOUII#TLOU2#thelastofus#joel miller#joel x reader#the last of us joel#tlou joel#tlou joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfic#joel miller fanfiction#tlou fanfic#tlou fanfiction#joel x fem!reader#Joel Miller x Fem!Reader#joel miller x you
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Read it here or on AO3!
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Critical Role (Web Series)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast, Beauregard Lionett & Caleb Widogast, The Mighty Nein & Caleb Widogast
Characters: Caleb Widogast, Essek Thelyss, Beauregard Lionett, Jester Lavorre, Caduceus Clay
Additional Tags: Shadogast - Freeform, dunamancy, Empire Siblings - Freeform, Prank Wars, Tickling, rib tickling
Summary:
What happens to a ticklish wizard when he manages to piss off too many of the people who love him? Allies are made and lessons are learned.
FIC
“Caleb Widogast!”
Caleb jumped as he walked into the kitchen of the Xorhaus, unsure of what he could have possibly done to upset anyone this early in the morning. He was even more surprised when he saw who.
“Essek?” Caleb stammered, taken aback. The drow was perched on a large kitchen chair with a cup of Caduceus’ tea in his hands and a pinched look on his face. “Schatze, I’m sorry, were we to meet? I hope you weren’t waiting long, I--”
“No.” Essek corrected him sharply. “I am here to have tea with Mr. Clay at his request, to discuss the situation in Savalierwood. But he just told me that he healed some pretty distinct injuries for you, yesterday?”
Caleb felt a guilty cringe fold his stomach in half. He sighed, looking at Caduceus. “So that just came up, ja?”
“Yeah,” Caduceus responded, “thought it might be why you slept in.”
“Ja, I had a bit of a fall--”
“A fall? From where?” Essek’s gaze was intense.
Caleb dropped his eyes to the floor. “Oh just, you know, clumsy--”
“Really? You clumsily practiced dunamantic phasing on your own and fell through the floor?”
“I think it was three floors, actually…” Caduceus mused quietly.
The cringe came to the surface and showed, unbidden on Caleb’s face. “Essek, I--”
“I have never limited you. It was the one thing I asked.”
“I know, I--”
“Caleb.”
He froze when Essek cut him off, meeting the elf’s gaze once more. Essek stared him down hard before continuing.
“I had… better masters than you had, when I was a young wizard. Infinitely gentler, certainly. But they would have whipped me for practicing phasing magic by myself. Truly. You could have cut yourself in half, dismembered yourself, crushed yourself, suffocated in a wall--” Essek seemed to cut himself off with a wave of his hand. “The point… the point is it would cause me a great heartbreak if irresponsible use of the magic I taught you led to your demise. Please promise me again, and keep it this time.”
Caleb ducked his head, feeling like a rightfully scolded school child. “I will, ja. I am sorry.”
Essek gave him a look that said he didn't entirely believe him. “I do trust you. I do not trust your curiosity. It’s only a virtue if it doesn’t get you killed.”
Caleb laughed softly, nodding as he sat down at the table with them and accepted a teacup from the still-silent Caduceus. He winked at Essek. “I think I could say the same to you, but fair enough. If I do it again, I’ll let you whip me.”
Essek smiled back, but the doubt didn’t leave his expression.
...
“CALEB!”
Beau’s voice thundered from upstairs, and Caduceus almost dropped the knife he was using to prepare vegetables for dinner. He spun around to see the wizard in question with his hands in his component pouch, running as fast as he could through the kitchen and out the back door. Beau’s quick steps followed, but by the time she was in the kitchen they could both hear the familiar woosh of a misty step from outside.
She stopped stock-still in the kitchen, hands clenched into fists, looking… different than Caduceus had ever seen her. What was it?
“Uh… hey. Did you get some new clothes.?”
Beau turned to him silently, eyes burning holes in his head. It was pretty scary, actually.
“Oh! Uh… is that what this is about?”
Beau’s clothes were bright magenta where they had once been her usual cobalt blue. She was still staring at Caduceus with her fists clenched. Veth and Fjord were creeping wearily into the kitchen behind her.
“I think it looks nice--!” Veth offered, only to choke off in a scared squeak when Beau rounded to face her.
Beau reached out to yank Fjord’s hat off his head and put it on.
“Hey!’ Fjord protested, before clamping one hand over his mouth to hide a smile. “Oh. I see.”
As it perched on Beau’s head, the hat instantly turned the same bright magenta of her robes. When she handed it back it returned to its usual color. The whole room was biting lips to keep an amused smile off their face, lest they become the new target for her fury. Beau took a deep breath before bellowing again.
“CALEB!” She spoke into the air, her voice loud enough to hear throughout the house. “I KNOW THAT SPELL DOESN’T GO FAR. I KNOW YOU’RE HERE, AND I AM GOING TO FUCKING GET YOU, DO YOU HEAR ME? I AM GOING TO DO DOPE MONK SHIT TO YOUR NERVOUS SYSTEM, TIE YOU UP AND FEED YOU TO A ROOM FULL OF TIEFLINGS. You will FUCKING SUFFER! THINK OF A NEW NAME, CAUSE CALEB WIDOGAST IS A FUCKING DEAD MAN! ”
At the end of her tirade Beau took a deep breath and started to walk upstairs again, but not before spinning around and jabbing a finger at everyone in the kitchen. “ANYONE caught harboring the wizard will share his fucking fate!”
…
"...CALEB WIDOGAST IS A FUCKING DEAD MAN! ”
Caleb was sitting cross-legged on the floor of his hiding place in Fjord’s empty bedroom when Beau finished her threats, but by the time she was climbing the stairs again he had disappeared with a crackling pop.
When the disorienting suck of the teleport spell faded he was standing on a clay path in a dimly-lit garden next to a trio of small towers made of iridescent grey brick. An arcane weather-vane creaked in the darkness. He started toward the door.
“Caleb?”
A head of pale curls popped up over the top of a bush of dark purple flowers, a frown of concern on the face beneath.
“Essek, hello. Ah… may I spend the night?”
Essek walked toward him as he pulled floral gardening gloves off of his hands, eyes narrowed wearily.
“Of course, I am always happy to have you...” He reached Caleb and placed a distracted kiss on his cheek. “... did something happen at home?”
“Yes.” Caleb answered, only to stutter as Essek’s worry grew, “Oh, ah, nothing bad. Well, nothing very bad. I just need to avoid Beauregard for a bit.”
Essek’s worry immediately evaporated to be replaced with amused annoyance. “I see. What did you do this time?”
They both started to stroll through the garden toward Essek’s back door. “Oh, just some illusion work. It will go away by morning. She deserves it, after stealing my spellbook while I was sleeping.”
“Mhmm.” Essek hummed, linking his arm with Caleb’s. “But wasn’t her stealing your spellbook revenge for…”
“The magic spiders, ja, but I had to do that! She--”
“--the disappearing ink, yes, I remember. Are you sensing a pattern here, chathtiu?”
Caleb sniffed and turned his nose up. “I have no idea what you mean.”
Essek’s smile turned indulgent as he pulled Caleb into his home. “I’m sure you don’t. Beauregard does have a way of pushing your buttons, hm?”
“She is the expert.”
“I should ask her for advice, one of these days.”
Caleb only laughed, pulling the smaller man into his arms. “You have your own way of pushing my buttons, don’t you schatz?”
Essek smiled back. “You’re right, of course. I do.”
...
Caleb stalked through the library of the Xorhause, circling it room by room. While his books were sitting on the desk he’d been working at the night before, their holsters were missing. He shifted the papers on his desk, panic rising in his chest. Where were they?
“Caleb?”
Jester was standing in the doorway, his holsters dangling from one finger. Caleb let out a sigh of relief.
“Jester! Danke! Where were they?”
“Sorry, I think Sprinkle must have stolen them.”
Caleb shook his head, the tension in his chest easing. “That’s alright. I’m just glad they are found.” He reached out for them, stopping short when another figure entered the room. It was Beau, her clothes now back to their normal deep blue. Their eyes met for a moment, but the monk just breezed past as though she didn’t even notice Caleb was there.
It had been a week since the incident with her clothes with no revenge or further threats, and Caleb was starting to wonder if he’d finally won the war. He shrugged his holsters on as the two women sat down on the sofa. He missed Jester’s giggle until it was too late.
“Hey Caleb?” Beau asked.
“Uh, ja?” Caleb cringed a little, turning around. Beau’s look was positively predatory.
“Fuck you.”
Caleb was about to respond when the sensation of fingers digging into his ribs flushed all the air out of him in one squeal. He spun around clumsily, hands flapping, but nobody was near him. He craned his neck to look down, his arms helplessly hugging his own ribcage while his knees buckled. That’s when he realized where the sensation was coming from.
“Wh-what? No, I-- ah! Please!” His fingers fumbled with the buckle of his holsters to try and escape the traitorous leather trap, but the buckle was trapped under a magical seal of iridescent purple wax with the image of a skeleton key pressed into its surface. “Fuck!”
Beaureguard was grinning like a gnoll. “What’s that buddy? Fuck you?”
“Aah!” Caleb’s whole body convulsed and hit the carpet as the tickling escalated, even more invisible fingers reaching out from the leather to stroke delicate bones under pale skin and plain cloth. “No no! Please!”
“Can I try?” Jester asked, giggling.
“Nein!”
“Sure, go for it.”
“Fuck yooooou Caleb!”
Caleb couldn’t answer her with words, he could only wail wordlessly. He writhed on the ground, trying desperately to resist the currently useless instinct to lock his arms at his sides so he could try and pull the holsters off over his head, but it was no use. All he could do was paw uselessly at the leather before Beureguard hissed the trigger word again and all he could see was stars.
“Uh… everything alright in here?” Fjord’s voice came from the direction of the door. Caleb couldn’t see him over the sofa.
“Fjord!” Caleb screeched. “Plea-hee-se! Evil!” It was all he could get out before his voice cracked and his laughter turned silent, his head thrown back against the carpet.
“Huh?” Beau answered in an exaggeratedly casual tone. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Just getting a little payback for my pink phase. Stole his holsters and Essek cursed ‘em.”
A wave of betrayal strong enough to overpower his ticklishness gave Caleb just enough breath to shout “WHAT?!” before the laughter overtook him again, tears building in his eyes.
“I helped with the ruse!” Jester piped up.
“Uh-huh.” Fjord nodded, “can he breathe?”
“Hmm? Oh, I guess we can check. Good boy, Caleb.”
The sensation stopped all at once, and Caleb rolled flat on his back to gulp in air.
“See? He’s fine.”
Caleb sat up, hands held out in supplication even as he struggled to catch his breath.
“Beau, please, I’m s-”
“Fuck you and your apology.”
Any strength Caleb had recovered melted away as he squealed and flopped back down on the carpet, limbs curling uselessly against his body. The tickling fingers coming from the inner panels of his holsters might as well have been sucking his very life-force out.
Fjord lets out a sigh. “If you’re going to torture him for a prank, you at least have to let him apologise. Good boy?”
Caleb didn’t get up this time, too scared to trigger someone’s wrath or sense of mischief. He was still giggling, partially from phantom sensation and partially from the panicky tension of knowing that any of them could trigger the curse at any moment. “I’m sorry! Bitte!”
There was a beat of silence before Beau turned to Fjord again.
“There, I let him apologise. Can we go back to the torture now?”
“Wait!” Caleb squeaked, rising unsteadily to his knees. “Please Beau, we can talk about this--”
“Oh, you wanna talk now? Cause when it happened you were happy to teleport away to your fucking boyfriend’s. So… you know,” she finished with a grin, “fuck you, fuck you, FUCK YOU.”
“Nein!” Was all Caleb could manage before his laughter stole his voice away, only to crack and go silent once more a moment later. Tears leaked from his eyes to roll into the fluffy carpet beneath him as he crumpled.
“Oh, he’s so cute when he cries, I love it!” Jester clapped her hands while she watched from the sofa. “This is the best curse ever.”
Fjord made an agreeable sound. “I wonder if Essek could make something more remote? Then we could tickle him wherever we are. That would be fun.”
Caleb couldn’t respond to the idea with anything more than pained wail through his hysterics. The others pretended not to notice.
“Yeah, I do worry that he goes without when we’re gone.” Jester cooed.
“Pfft. Yeah, I don’t think Essek is letting that happen.” Beau snorted.
Caleb started to beat at the floor with one hand, hiccups punctuating his laughter.
“Aw, alright. Good boy.”
The sensation stopped again, but Caleb couldn’t stop his laughter. “Please, pleaheese, *hic* bitte--”
“Focus on catching your breath.” Fjord suggested, “It’ll do you more good than begging will.”
Caleb let out an exhausted little sob before obeying, his lungs working overtime to suck in air. He wiped the tears from his eyes and tried to make the hiccups go away with little success. When his breathing finally evened out Fjord gave him a reassuring smile.
“See, that’s better.” Fjord soothed.
Beau’s grin got wider. “Hey, Caleb?”
“No!”
“Fffffffffff…”
“Mercy!”
“...uuuuck you!”
“Aaii!” Caleb let out a little yelp at the sound of the words, then… nothing. He’d clenched his eyes shut in anticipation, and when he slowly opened them Beau was glaring at him.
“Hey! How come it didn’t work?”
Caleb let out a huge sigh of relief. The curse must have expended all of its energy.
“Is it done?” Jester questioned.
Caleb was wondering the same thing. He tried to examine the buckle of his holsters as subtly as possible. The seal was still there, which meant whatever the curse was, it was not over. He needed to get out of earshot as quickly as he could.
“I thought it was supposed to last longer than that. Can you message Essek?”
“Sure!”
Caleb started to cast for misty step as subtly as he could, hoping he was close enough to his lab to lock himself inside.
“Hi Essek, it’s Jester! So, your awesome curse thingy is SO great, but like, but it ran out of tickles? Do you know why?”
Whoosh.
Caleb hit the stone floor of his lab with an oof, dragging himself to his feet and transmuting the door of the lab into stone for good measure. As he groaned he saw that the room looked quite different compared to how he had left it the night before.
The large chalkboard he used for calculations had been moved into the centre of the room. In one corner someone had drawn a symbol-- a skeleton key, like the one on the seal trapping him in his holsters. Next to it someone had written in familiar, looping script:
I will not practice phasing unsupervised. X100
Caleb whipped out the enchanted little book he and Essek used to send messages between them, only to find a new one waiting for him.
You have 30 minutes.
Caleb was glad nobody was there to watch him gape like a fish between the chalkboard and the book. Essek couldn’t be serious. He frowned and grabbed up a quill.
You are a traitorous snake!
There was only a single silent moment before the page shimmered and revealed another message under Caleb’s.
Noted. Now you only have 25 minutes.
Caleb took a moment to say every curse word in every language he knew. Then he stood up, snatched the chalk and started writing.
#caleb widogast#essek thelyss#Shadogast#Tickling#Tickle Fic#Critickle Role#beauregard lionett#Empire Siblings#Prank wars#Rib tickling#Ticklish Wizards#hot boi essek#TK fic
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Unbidden : bonus scene 2
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Yup, I'm at it again! Thank you, whump community, for helping me feel comfortable getting into some torture details I touched on insufficiently on my first pass.
Content warnings: forced feeding (sort of - it's not food, it's a live insect), minor blood, brief asphyxiation.
The vipers' claws were always cold.
It was no more than a minor discomfort, a footnote in Morgan's suffering. Just something his mind noticed in the abstract. A detail it could focus on occasionally. When it was lucid. Something other than the constant throb of pain emanating out from his bad arm even when it was freshly healed, perpetually weighed down by the cuffs that kept him helpless.
The claws prodding at his lips now were cold. This was the part of the process he hated the most: when they pried his mouth open to pour healing potion down his throat, repairing the damage to his body so they could begin destroying it afresh. It was bad enough that they'd dampened his magic with the heavy cuffs around his wrists. He'd always been on the fragile side without it, and all the demons were considerably larger and stronger. But with the potion their control over his body was absolute. He was no more than a passenger in it, dragged along for its suffering but powerless to stop it in any way.
When Morgan refused to open his mouth, wrenching his head away, those cold claws pierced up under the tip of his chin. He tried to suppress the shudder that evoked. The demons were meant for this kind of violence, designed to be able to rend and tear and dismember with unmatched ease. Knowing that did not make it even slightly less unpleasant to be experiencing it.
Morgan tried to focus on just the cold. Not on the feeling of skin and muscle giving way around the demon's fingertips. Not on the way its claws scraped against the bone - the sublingual fossa, he thought distantly. One of the distinct features of the mandible. The claws dragged briefly over his alveolar process before reaching far enough to hook around his lower teeth. He tasted blood. He'd tasted so much of his own blood by now, he was beginning to wonder if he would ever taste anything else. Blood and potion, blood and potion, over and over and over.
Another set of claws grasped his hair. The two hands pulled apart from each other with effortless strength, forcing his mouth open. The muscles in his jaw burned, adding their complaint to the insistent, throbbing pain where other muscles twitched around the obstacle of the demon's claws. Morgan voiced a pointless sound of protest, half snarl and half gurgle. He tensed his arms, pulling weakly against whatever was fixing them above his head, keeping him stretched across the stone altar. One of the demons laughed.
"You humans have to eat, don't you?"
It obviously wasn't expecting an answer this time. But Morgan realized it had a point; the only thing they'd fed him in all the endless, sleepless, unrelenting hours had been healing potion. How long had it been since he'd last walked the streets of Lut Gholein with only a light meal of flatbread in his stomach? Was it days, now?
One of the demons lifted something up into Morgan's line of vision. It swam into focus as he blinked at it. It moved, twisting in the demon's claws, shining damply in the light of the brazier. A grub of some sort. Sand maggot, maybe. It wasn't very large. Must have been freshly hatched. Sharp pincers gave an audible series of clicks as it squirmed in the claw viper's grip.
"Go on," the demon leered. "Eat, then."
It shoved the grub into Morgan's mouth. He gagged a little at the sharply bitter taste of whatever was coating it. Its body wriggled, tiny legs grasping at his tongue as it explored its new environment. Morgan made an indignant, half muffled noise at the intrusion. Insects were not a regular part of his diet. Most grubs were edible, not poisonous, though they were generally not consumed alive. It was difficult to imagine this was for his benefit in any way. They certainly didn't seem intent on actually letting him bite down.
The claws holding his mouth open were cold. They might as well have been iron hooked around his jaw, for all he could do against them. He could distantly feel the slickness at their base, where no doubt his blood was trickling down the demon's hand. It was not enough to focus on. Not when there was a hungry little larva crawling over his tongue, its claws gouging into the unprotected flesh inside his mouth as it searched for a meal.
Morgan struggled. It was pointless. The vipers were so much stronger than him. No matter how he tried, he couldn't spit out the grub, couldn't muster enough strength to close his jaw to crush it. His eyes widened as he realized what was about to happen. The only thing that could happen next.
The screaming did not deter the sand maggot even slightly. If anything, it seemed attracted to the vibration.
The vipers murmured in reverent delight as Morgan thrashed and bucked. He didn't have it in him to control himself, to deny them this pleasure. Not when there was an insect squeezing itself down his throat. His screaming cut off as he choked, gagging around its plump body. Apparently satisfied with its new direction, the grub continued to work its mass down the narrow passage of Morgan's throat. Its legs clung tenaciously to the sides of his esophagus, resisting his body's desperate efforts to dislodge it.
Pinch.
Squeeze.
Wriggle.
Drag.
The sand maggot worked its way down inch by agonizing inch. Morgan was vaguely aware of the demon's fingers withdrawing from his mouth, of the warmth that pulsed down his neck in their wake. He was much more keenly aware of the grub's bulk as it made room for itself, crushing aside the delicate processes of his larynx on its path.
There was no room for air alongside the sand maggot. Morgan could feel his chest heaving reflexively, instinctually, fighting for breath it could no longer draw. He leaned eagerly into the void that seeped in around the edges of his mind, the oblivion of unconsciousness. But just as its welcoming tendrils reached out to embrace him, his straining lungs managed to pull in enough breath to drive it back.
Cold claws stroked his throat tenderly, tracing the bulge of the larva as it continued its relentless journey. To Morgan's dismay, he found his unwelcome passenger had progressed just far enough to allow him to gasp ragged little breaths around it. No, he thought bitterly, of course he couldn't suffocate. Not even enough to grant him a temporary reprieve. That would be too much of a kindness. There was nothing in that vein here.
The dead, Morgan was realizing, were fortunate on many levels. Particularly in that they could no longer feel physical sensation. No pleasure, no, but also no pain or discomfort. They were lucky that they could not feel the process of decomposition. Especially the parts helped along by other organisms. He had seen them often enough, bodies in assorted stages of that cycle. It was part of his life's work as a priest of Rathma, a guardian of the dead. Somehow it had never occurred to him to imagine what the deceased might feel if they were still capable of it.
He no longer needed to imagine. He could feel every tiny movement the grub made, from the undulation of its body to the tiny lateral movements of its head as it explored the shape of the passage it found itself in. It was just an insect, newborn and bereft of any higher intelligence, operating on instinct alone. Only doing what it was made to do. It lacked the capacity to understand the visceral horror Morgan felt as it crawled on, dragging itself down and down, squirming and burrowing. His wretched protests, despairing little whimpers he lacked the energy to hold back, were no more than meaningless vibrations to it.
The grub's progress slowed. Morgan nearly dared to hope for a fraction of a second before a new pain burst through him. It tore across his awareness with the terrible intensity of a lightning strike, then faded slightly into a jagged throb. Then again, after a brief pause. He writhed against his restraints with a fresh desperation.
The sand maggot - it was eating. It was eating him.
"Perfect," one of the demons purred against Morgan's ear as he screamed his agony. "Suffer for us."
Healing potion dripped onto his tongue, oily and heavy with spices, hateful in its ruthless efficiency. His flesh dutifully knit itself back together even while it was being torn apart.
The grub feasted on.
The viper's claws were cold as it cupped Morgan's face in a cruel facsimile of tenderness. "Your pain is exquisite," it hissed. "You were made for this."
Maybe it was right.
#my writing#story: unbidden#restraint tw#blood tw#asphyxiation tw#choking tw#insects tw#force feeding tw#whump writing#torture tw
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Emotions help you remember: Final Draft
Alright everyone, the story got too long to post, so this is the final piece to connect all three. Please enjoy!! It was a pleasure working on this part!
~
~
A silver knife was revealed from the black coat, the face hidden in the shadows as he twirled the knife in his hand. Frozen from shock, you stood there with your lips trembling slightly as your voice froze in fear until you felt your foot jolt and you turn to run from the mysterious man behind you. You let go of the coat that were on your shoulders and used the strength you had to run for your life. You cried out in pain as your feet throbbed in the heels you were and the frustration of having such a bulbous dress when a memory flashed in your head: Madam Hopkins had given you insightful information, an additional information regarding the dress she was lending you.
“(Y/N), I want you to take this dress instead of just a dress you typically wear, you should wear something nice, you are a tailor: be one. I shall even grant you this special one I made with my new inventions on it. Just pull on this thread here and it will fall off.”
“Fall off? Madam such a dress could stir controversy-”
“Controversy, controversy, it won’t be long before women will be able to wear this with confidence like moi!~" before she spun after she tore away her skirt to reveal the shorts underneath with the visible garters.
Desperately looking for the thread, you felt your chest compress as you were beginning to tire out. You heard the rapid footsteps before you heard a nearing voice, “As entertaining you were, I must end it already-”
“No!” You cried out before your hand grabbed a handful of your dress and pulled it away desperately. You now felt many chills on your bare legs as the shorts, fitting perfectly against your skin, were exposing you into the cold night and you blushed at the vulnerable position. She had made a replica of her shorts with garters, at first you were confused as to why you felt the garters in place when you first put on the dress.
Blushing a dark red from the vulnerability, your body felt much lighter to move as the skirt flew back, tangling the man’s legs only to cause him to trip over it.
The man was in shock to see the skirt fly back, not even thinking for a second that it was possible before he watched his vision focused from the girl ahead to the dried up leaves and mud. Landing face-first on the ground, he let out a short grunt before he got frustrated, blushing from his embarrassing situation and turned to sit up and using the knife in hand to rip the skirt in pieces. He growled, “Now I will not take you down with ease!” He slammed his knife-bearing fist against the dirt.
“I’m afraid you won’t take anyone for that matter.” A voice rang within the shadows, a mixture of a windy laced with an ominous tone, “Mr. Kindred.”
Flinching from the novel voice, the man on the ground looked around in an attempt to view his next victim, shouting, “Who are you?! Make yourself visible!!”
“My, what a rude guest, tormenting the guest of honor as well as shamelessly ordering around.”
The man on the ground was still looking around before he met with a pair of piercing red eyes, a chill ran down the man’s back, fear entering immediately as he began to drag himself back, “What the hell are you?! Get away from me!”
“And now ordering to step back? What a delusional human you are indeed. However, my young master has ordered me to ensure that you, as well as Miss. (L/N) return back to the manor.”
Dried leaves were crunched as the footsteps got closer, “Unfortunately, I only need one of you alive,” His voice growled towards the end as he appeared out of the shadows in his sharp butler outfit, his shoe stepping over the gravel. It was silent, surprised to see the man on the ground watching the butler walk out of the shadows and his eyes were back to the dark eyes of his.
This is what his victims must’ve felt, unease, nothingness, but also knowing that everything will stop. Every woman he killed and dismembered were all pleading for their life hopelessly, knowing very well they were going to die for his sadistic pleasure. He felt chill after chill from his presence and he opened his mouth to say something only to stutter or mouth words.
Fear...that is what he felt, fear of a being stronger than him. Fear of losing control.
“Oh...cat got your tongue?” The butler taunted as he leaned forward slightly, “You seemed very sure of yourself that you would get away from yet another merciless murder tonight in my master’s grounds. However, as the Head Butler of the Phantomhive Manor, I can not allow that to happen...for you see, I am one hell of a butler.”
Gripping the knife in his hand, Mr. Kindred had the realization that he had the weapon in his hand, something to fight as his expression slowly began to change, “You have nothing, butler...nothing! I at least ha-” He raised up to slash at him only for a ripping and broken sound was heard ahead of him. It seemed so slow as he saw his own arm twisted horribly, body instinctively cringing and screaming out in agony as he fell back onto the ground.
“A pesky knife. I know what you’re feeling...hopelessness, a rush- not a kind one either- controlling your whole body as the idea that I can take your life-” he snapped his fingers before flashing his teeth, startling the man below him.
“Like that...and you don’t like that idea because all this time you believed you were much stronger...simply slashing women's throats...while I can do...so...”
He inched closer and closer to the shaking man below him, the dangerous smirk plastered on the demon’s face, his eyes shifting to his fuchsia color, “much worse than you humans can even grasp.” The air around shifted, a weight so immense you could die of suffocation. The man flinched when he saw from his peripheral feathers falling through. He looked up once again at the demon only for him to be covered completely by the falling feathers. The amount of fear possessed by a single man, scarred forever at the interaction.
The agonized screams traveled far and beyond, but not even the hypnotizing music can break free the audience’s attention, but one.
The screams reached to your ears no doubt, only pushing you further and further away into the deep forest.
~
Sebastian remained in the position for a second before huffing, “What a mess indeed-...” He glanced to the side, only for his eyes to widen at the skirt you were earlier in the ball entangled between the man’s legs. His eyebrows quirked, “Is she...?” He asked himself, placing a finger over his chin, before his smirk became more mischievous, releasing a chuckle as he removed the skirt, “Miss. Hopkins, you have aimed to surprise me even without your presence.”
You panted desperately, leaning against a tree. You tried covering your mouth, you shook in place as you tried to get smaller to not be spotted. tears streamed down your cheeks as shook. Having not realize that absence of the murder, your mind raced images, and the mere fact that he could be taunting you by making you believe you were safe was terrifying enough. Your eyes wandered in many places, side to side, up and down, any clues that he was nearby. You didn’t even know how far you were from the manor, to get to Ciel, to get to Sebastian-
“My, my, has mon chaton lost herself in the woods? What a pity indeed.” A sound so soothing, and calming with a tinge of mystery wrapped around it like a bouquet. You thought you had gone mad, to need him so much that you envisioned him rescuing you. His voice alone calmed your essence, yet your eyes aimed towards the source. You yelped and jumped up, running a few steps before turning to face body. Anything and everything kept you edge, even if you were unarmed, you were willing to even use a stick to once again distract him.
Sebastian, once again, appeared from the shadows under the light from the moon, lightly smirking towards you with his arms raised slightly in defense. In his right hand, however, he was holding a bunched-up skirt, “Everything is alright, my lady, your assailant is no longer in the premise. It has been handled.”
You gulped, still shaking from the anxiety, “N-no, he is still here-”
“If he was, this skirt would have been deemed useless as a capturing device.” He took a few steps forward, “Which I very much recommend wearing, my dear. It’s not only cold outside, but you are improper at the moment.” He guided your emotions into a calm one, “I promise you, my lady, no one is here other than you and I.” He reached out his hand, awaiting for yours.
Hesitating, but trusting him, you raised your shaky hand on top of his hand, “...I could have died...” you commented.
“But you did not, my dear. For as long as I am by your side, you will never go through that.” He raised your hand towards his lips to place a kiss before slowly helping you back into the skirt, “There. You look as wonderful as before. Now then, shall we go back?”
You took another shaky step before you yelped from the sudden rush of Sebastian lifting you in his arms, “You are still unsure, so I will carry you, my lady while you rest up. Do leave your concerns with me, I will be by your side for the rest of the night if that helps reassure you.”
You nodded slightly, confirming as you pressed against him, “Please...Sebastian.”
He smirked slightly at you as he proceeded forward to the mansion.
~
With you standing next to the earl himself, and Sebastian by your side, most of the guests could not help but glance towards your way. You noticed some women responded ill with their eyes, someone commenting to the person beside them about you as they walk by, and you could not help but sigh deeply, “...I believe I feel better...I must retire to my room now. I do not want to continue spoiling the party.” You were saddened to have to see the party end so soon, already stepping away when you heard the same voice that managed to wrap around your essence speak.
“But my lady, I seem to recall you wanted to have at least one dance?” Sebastian asked, turning halfway to meet your eyes.
You looked downwards with a sad look, “I did..but...it just... feels off now with what occurred...”
Now it was Ciel’s turn to speak, “He has been arrested quietly, (Y/N)…his presence will no longer disturb your moment of happiness.” He stared at the ball before he slightly turned to you with a small smirk, not of arrogance, and not of confidence, it was a soft, gentle one, “Do not let an opportunity pass by like that. Enjoy it wile you can.”
You stared at the earl for a few seconds before your eyes trailed off, thinking of your choices, “...Yes, Lord Phantomhive.” Then you walked towards Sebastian, surprising him the slightest at your upfront being, “Sebastian. I would like to have my dance with you.”
Sebastian was slightly surprised, but at the same time he was not. Smirking softly, he tried changing your mind, “But my lady, I am simply a butler, there are multiple chaperons whom would enjoy to dance with you.”
Feeling the slight confidence to smile softly at him, you responded, “Lord Phantomhive said not waste the moment, and it is you who I do not want to waste the opportunity to dance with.”
Ciel smirked at your quick-thinking, glancing at your incoming strength as he viewed his butler look slightly surprised, yet accepting. He watched as Sebastian, now smiling softly, bowed slightly with his hand over his chest, “Very well then, my lady,” he offered his hand in the same position as he raised his crimson red eyes to yours, “It would be an honor to have this dance with you.”
~
As he guided you onto the dance floor with a few other couples dancing to the music, you sensed something change within the musicians. As a matter of fact, you sensed the atmosphere change with the strand that the lead violin was stroking.
You both stood in front of each other, feeling his hand gently place on your hip and the other awaiting for your hand. It was then you felt the sparks, the tingling sensations he sent over, the way your body responded to his touch, triggering memories from earlier. You blushed, your cheeks tinted softly with a red shade as you place your hand on his.
The room was silent for a few seconds before-
youtube
Voom-Ba-bum, Voom-Ba-bum, Voom-Ba-bum, Voom-Ba-bum...
The way the violins and cello captured the way your heart was pounding loud in your ears was extraordinary because as soon as it started, the more it became evident of how much he had influenced you: he completely corrupted you for himself. The way Sebastian lead their dance in a perfect unison, despite you never learning the dance before surprised you even. He swayed with the notes in the air, the violins carving a path and him following it, or could it be the other way around? It was all so warming, enveloping your body as a whole to the rhythm of the strokes before you listened to the next part with your heart. You looked up to see his gorgeous, captivating eyes once more before you felt yourself weaker, and weaker, and weaker-
(Ba-bum, ba-bum, ba-bum)
The way he approached his head near yours while moving was enticing, you needed him close to you, your body needed him-
“My lady, I must say, as we dance so close together...I cannot stop envisioning our ‘studies’...” He smirked softly as he squeezed your hip ever so softly. His grip tightened when he heard you gasp softly, trying to regain as much strength needed, “...P-please...not here.” your voice trembled. You were weak enough that any word he let out would not help your situation.
As the music rose in speed and volume, you heard him chuckle, “You remember so well, mon chaton... as expected from my favorite student. I must admit, that even your being has captured me in a way that I never thought would have such an effect...your skin, your hands, your body...the way you begged for me without raising your voice, the way you gasped, the way you moaned...you will never cease to exist in my being...even your bite I will remember very well. Your markings truly changed me...” he whispered.
You whimpered softly, mentally begging him to stop, the images overwhelming you in a state of steam. You were embarrassed, your cheeks tinted ever so dark, once again you can hear your heart pound, but this time it grew louder and louder, beginning to deafening you until you tried biting back with his own medicine, “And what about you...” you chest heaved slightly, the heat radiating from you, “The way you took me without mercy, your weakness and your strength becoming one. The way you felt me like I was your life source, the woman that marked you as hers. The way you clawed me as a desperate need to get ahold of, it all penetrated my thoughts. And for that I blame you Sebastian Michaelis.”
As your list grew, Sebastian’s fascination towards you more and more, internally smiling and breathing deeply. The way you handled yourself with his words was truly amazing. You tried to get at him with his own words, and though it did not work, the effort was there. His own heart pounded, and he refuses, at full, to leave your side.
The music around them rose in tempo once again, the rhythm beating identical to their heart soundings. Neither wanting to leave the other. The want, the yearn, the desperation, the urge was lingering closer and closer and they could not do a single thing. Inching closer and closer to their lips nearly locking, the music ended. They did not make it, yet they remained like that, Sebastian first to react as he smirked and let out a chuckle, “You have done a certain type of damage in me, my lady.” He blushed slightly as he panted ever so slightly.
Panting as well, you responded as quickly, “And you as well...diable.”
Sebastian sucked in air, ready for a comeback when he stood back, bowed, and stood back up, “Well done, my lady. Would you like another dance, or would you like to take a small rest?”
“...No...I think I will retire.” you spoke, but Sebastian capturing the truth behind those words, “Goodnight, Sebastian.” You took both sides of the skirt and bowed slightly before heading to your room.
Subtly, but effectively, Sebastian was able to mask biting inside of his cheek, “Goodnight, my lady. I shall return to you.”
You simply smiled small at him before leaving from the ball.
~~ ~~ ~~ ~
Sebastian had dismissed the guests along with Ciel, his behavior seemed rushed, with each wording having no charisma he usually portrays with many. Some men could understand why, holding a smirk with a tinge of jealousy, but the women saddened from the shortened conversations. It felt so quick, and Ciel noticed as they stepped inside the manor, “I’m guessing this has to do with (Y/N)? You were rather quick to dismiss the guests.”
“I do apologize my lord, but she did make a request of my presence.” He justified, “She said she was not feeling well.”
Ciel suspected for a different reason, but he understood why you would be shaken, “Very well. Do so after I’ve retired.”
“Yes, my lord.” he guided him to his chambers before helping him to his bed.
Meanwhile, you rested in the tub of hot water, sighing with content as you rested your head against the tub, your hands feeling your skin, each giving you a flashback of your affair.
His hot, full lips pressed against yours in a passionate kiss, his dominating groan as he pressed your body close to his.
The flashback ended abruptly as you heard a knock on the door, “My lady?”
Blushing, aside from the temperature, you answered, “Come in.”
The door opened, and coming in was the butler himself you imagined not even ten seconds ago, “From the unfortunate events earlier, I brought you some tea to calm your nerves. How are you feeling?” He asked, closing the door afterwards with a hand, the other holding the tray with great balance.
You took another deep breath, swaying the water in front of you, “I’m feeling better now.” You smiled small, “I am just...focusing on the water...” your voice went softer and softer, your eyes feeling heavier as your body, feeling safe, decided to rest up.
Sebastian gently opened the door to the bathroom to see you close your eyes and he smiled subtly, “I am glad to hear that, my lady. Shall I finish you up and help you to your bed?”
“Mm...no...are you currently free at the moment, Sebastian?” You asked, opening your eyes to meet him with a soft smile.
“My duties have been completed, my lady. I am all yours tonight...” He reciprocated the smile, creating butterflies in your stomach.
“Then,” you rose in a sitting position, your arms crossing over your chest as you leaned forward slightly, “Come join me in the tub please. It’s still hot.” You invited him, “Nothing ever beats a hot bath.”
Eyes widening from the invitation, he rose his fist, the side of his finger covering his lips as he chuckled lightly, “Not even the studies, my lady?”
Blushing already, you simply remained silent as you gently patted the water.
“Your generosity overwhelms me, my lady.” He turned slowly before proceeding to remove the articles from his body. You even shamelessly watched as he removed his clothes.
“Staring is an improper thing to do as a lady.” He teased without turning.
“Mmm...then at this moment I am but a simple being enjoying a wonderful view. I might even reconsider this being better than a hot tub.” You teased back.
“I feel ashamed for not fixing anything about that mouth of yours.” He remarked with a smirk, turning his body to you as he took your chin between his fingers, lifting it in the process. He purposely tilted your head to make eye contact, to make you feel weak in front of him, but you bit back like always.
“I would have enjoyed it, Sebastian...but right now...” you say to increase the anticipation, raising your wet hand to place on his abdomen, only to caress his lean muscles, “I just want to relax...and you are perfect for that need.”
“I am honored to serve you in this way.” His lips slightly part, “Let us begin.”
~
It felt heavenly, it felt sublime, it felt like a happiness that you have yearn for so long, the missing puzzle to your day-to-day life. You wished to remain in his arms, those strong arms, the ones placed on your sides, resting on your skin. Those same arms that have caused damage, but in such a pleasurable way. You let out a breathy sigh as his fingers brushed against the bruises that were prominent over your body, reminders of his attempt of corruption.
You leaned your head back against his shoulder, tilting your head to the side slightly before arching your back. His heat, his presence alone made you want to back out what you said earlier and take him head-on, but for once your mind had different plans.
Sebastian smirked as his hands lightly brushed against your skins, occasionally massaging some parts of your breasts, “If you allow me, my lady, a massage is a suitable, don’t you agree?” He placed his hands on your shoulders, kneading the trapezius. The stiffness in your shoulder caused you to yelp from surprised, the pain threw you off, yet you concentrated on the kneading. The way he pressed harder on a few places than everywhere, making you groan softly made it pleasing.
“My, my. You have a lot of knots, you really must have worked so hard, Lady (Y/N). Working day in and out to please your Madame. You remind me of the essence of a butler, and for that I highly place my respect for you.”
You rested the side of your head on his shoulder, interrupting his massage. His words, his gentle words. Though he may not see it, the fact that he managed to to pull flashbacks forward to you made you numb, and silent. Each event that occurred, the passion that sparked to initiate your education with Madame Hopkins. Madame Hopkins is a savior, a savior that brought you onto your feet once more. The extra thing you needed in your life, her ability to see new when everyone else got stuck in the past. You enjoyed it enough to be a part of it.
Sebastian was surprised to see an extremely soft side, he was not used to the sudden change of heart, to see you so quiet, so vulnerable. His raised his hand behind your head, inching closer and closer to your hair as he smirked with confidence before he stopped.
He felt the cold breeze before feeling drips, his crimson eyes following the path to your teary eyes, “Crying, my lady?” he maneuvered his hand to wipe your tears off, “Has today really brought so many emotions to your eyes?”
You sobbed, “No...Sebastian.” You raised your face to see him eye-to-eye, facing him with your tears, pride enveloping you, “Sebastian, weakness is not shown in the act of crying, is the act of developing.”
Remaining silent from the impressive resilience you possess, he stared at you with such a surprise look on his face. His hand cupped your chin subconsciously, holding it in place for a couple seconds before pulling you in.
As your lips connect, the chills stored send to each other’s body, surprising the demon butler all in all at the immense amount of influence from a single human. How does one human like her possess such power in hand, then he remembers just then:
“crying...is the act of developing.”
His appetite increased tremendously as his master further his goal, but for something that you would say, something was emphasized, and that emphasis he made loud and clear. His kiss deepened, his arms holding you closer and closer to him. His high regard he held for you has overwhelmed him at the slightest, and that brought concern to his being.
“Her soul...I want her soul...”
You pulled away at the slightest, only for Sebastian to pull forward reveled the realization which forced him to back down.
“And I thank you, Sebastian. Without you, I would not have realized just how much my memories mean to me; the ability to remember so much. So with that, I really thank you, Sebastian Michaelis.”
You picked yourself up, the water dripping from your body as you were careful to get out, “Feel free to use the tub, please. Don’t let my absence rush you.”
You took the towel and wrapped around your body before walking back to the room to select your night gown.
When the door close, the lonely demon butler stood in his sitting position with his head tilted downwards, bangs covering his face. His lips were parted in a emotionless rest, and yet...he slowly rose back to his usual self. His smirk penetrated the still room, the water flowing around his body dropped in temperature. His raised his hand up to his face before rubbing downwards, chuckling darkly, “Oh, My lady (Y/N), you truly possess a soul so exquisite, so divine...” He eyes, so dark, and so filled with the hatred shifted into his instincts, possessing those bold fuchsia eyes.
Fin
~~ ~~ ~~ ~
AHHHHHH I FINISHED! I feel so satisfied with this piece, so much so I cannot believe that I wrote so much. I also did so much when I used so little, I wonder if you can figure it out (mueeheheh). Anyways, I would like to thank you all for reading, for taking this time to be part of this adventure, to leave your comments, and your sharing. I appreciate that with all my heart.
That being said, I have to say adieu, and HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!!!~~
#kuroshitsuji#kuroshitsuji smut#sebastian michaelis#sebastian michaelis xreader#Sebastian Michaelis smut#Sebastian michaelis x reader smut#Black Butler#black butler smut#kuroshitsuji nsft#Black Butler nsft#Sebastian Michaelis nsft#kuroshitsuji sebastian
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