#because he was shaking down powerless people

[mechanicalchickens]

Dang, is that a pun in the ominous background conversation? Very dadly wordplay.

[sorcerersandskillusers]

I want to talk about one of the most terrifying and interesting bsd characters who almost no fan remembers.

This character nearly tore down the ADA without ever getting involved herself, yet the entire fandom has ignored her because of her terrible anime adaptation.

Who am I talking about?

Nobuko Sasaki

If you haven't read Dazai Osamu's Entrance Exam, then you probably don't even know who this character is, in the anime she is watered down to the lovesick girlfriend of an actual villain, and you probably dismissed her immediately. But in the light novel, we get to see how dangerous and cunning she really is, to the point she nearly gets the better of Dazai and almost causes the ADA to be shut down. (Fukuzawa says he would have closed the agency if they hadn't caught her)

In terms of intelligence I'd put her on the same level as Mori, just slightly below the super human genius characters i.e. Dazai, Fyodor and Ranpo

The Azure Apostle

For those who don't remember, Sasaki was the Azure Apostle, a mysterious figure who challenged the agency with several horrifying cases, which would all lead to mass casualties if the agency failed to stop them. These were; uncovering an underground organ smuggling operation (which the agency failed to stop and which massively hurt their reputation) stopping a bombing of Yokohama port which could have killed hundreds of people, and preventing a commercial aeroplane from crashing into the city (this was not included in the anime)

Each of the people, who committed these crimes, had no Idea they were being manipulated and thought it was their own idea the whole time. There was no evidence that anyone else had been involved at all, and the agency had no way to connect her to any of the crimes. And she even makes the genius move of framing Dazai, the mysterious new member with suspicious knowledge of the underworld and a hidden past, as the true culprit.

In fact, she only made one mistake, challenging Dazai. If Dazai had been basically anyone else, they would have been cornered and arrested, but since Dazai's mind works on a level even master strategists can't imagine, he was able to turn the tables on her.

But even after Dazai sees through her plans, the ADA still has to act exactly the way she wants them too and stop the plane crash. Even when they know they're being manipulated, they still have to do exactly what she wanted.

Finally, after Dazai and Kunikida confront her and get her to admit to being behind all those crimes, even then they are powerless to stop her.

Even after being involved with so many massive crimes, Sasaki herself hadn't done anything illegal, so within the law the ADA is completely powerless to stop her.

They can't arrest her, and if they try then the agency will be put in even more danger as will many innocent lives. She has completely trapped the ADA, and even Dazai in a choice to follow the law and let her go or take justice into their own hands and prove they will stoop as low as she did.

In the end, there she has them in a perfect deadlock, let her continue her mission, or kill her themselves. Both are bad outcomes for the ADA.

In the end, Dazai has her killed by using a third party (Rokuzo) to shoot her, so the agency can't be blamed for her murder, though this ends her plans it deeply scars Kunikida and shakes his resolve in his ideals.

The trauma from this event still haunts Kunikida to this day, we see that when he is affected by Q's curse, Sasaki is who he sees.

So thats the Azure Apostle, a terrifying master mind who nearly brought down the Armed Detective Agency, but now lets look at the other side of this character.

Nobuko Sasaki Herself

We know several things about Sasaki as a character and her history from the light novel. That she was a brilliant criminal psychologist and was internationally recognised despite being so young

,that she was the ex-lover of the Azure King and the real mastermind behind his plans, and that she had very little motivation of her own.

That's not meant to be an insult to the character, she says herself that she never really had much direction in life, even with her incredible intelligence she never really had anything she wanted to achieve.

But the Azure King was the opposite, he had powerful drive and strong ideals, he wanted to punish criminals who couldn't be touched by the law and when he failed to change the law as a bureaucrat, she offered him an alternative.

A very important thing here is that neither of them were manipulating or forcing the other into this path, as far as we see they genuinely loved each other, each providing something the other couldn't, Sasaki her mind and the Azure King his drive.

When the Azure king died, Sasaki had no path of her own to follow, so she simply kept following his, even though she doesn't seem to have really cared about his cause.

All of this creates a very unique character, you can't say she was driven by revenge, because she wasn't really driven at all. It's more like she was running on momentum, she had chosen a path to follow and could not stop even though there was nothing pushing her down it any more.

She's a perfect antithesis of Kunikida and was the best possible villain a light novel about him could have had.

A man who brings his ideals into reality with his own hands against a woman who uses others to enforce ideals that were never hers to begin with.

Anyway, I made this because Sasaki is criminally underrated in this fandom, If you haven't read "Dazai Osamu's Entrance Exam" I highly recommend it, I've only put a tiny fraction of the amazing story here.

[hencheri]

jaehyun and non connnn

18+. mdni.

dealer!jaehyun <3

warnings: noncon, drugs consumption.

.

jaehyun's eyes roam over your body with a playful gleam in them, a cigarette secured between his pink lips. he likes the way you look everywhere but at him, as if the white polish on your toe nails is more interesting than him.

your back is leaned against the brick wall, the small space of the alleyway forcing jaehyun to be closer to you than what would be considered normal. he can almost smell your shampoo, deciphering some floral tones. unfortunately, the tobacco in the air is too strong for him to know exactly which scent it is.

originally, your boyfriend haechan was supposed to meet jaehyun here to buy from him, but when he arrived, he found you alone. haechan wouldn't take long, you said, though it's been a few minutes already and there's no sign of him.

it gives jaehyun the opportunity to look at you, at least. see what kind of girl you are.

he can tell you're the shy type, clinging to her boyfriend because she doesn't know what to do without him. so clearly, you're super uncomfy right now. it's like leaving a kitten in the wild; it doesn't know how to survive in this big, scary world.

"want one?" jaehyun offers you a cigarette, showing you the small pack that he pulls from the pocket of his jean jacket.

you briefly glance at him, then at the packet before shaking your head as a no. he didn't expect you to say yes, but he wanted to break the ice.

he puts it back in his pocket, taking a step forward. you notice this pretty quickly, eyes staring at his shoes, moving your legs to rest against the wall.

"haechan isn't in a hurry," he comments, and he knows you're intimidated by him. it's obvious with the way you seem to be glued to the wall, arms crossed over your chest, wanting to be as small as possible.

"i'm sorry," you mumble, apologizing for your boyfriend, "i swear he's coming."

your wide eyes finally look up and meet his. there's something in them that he likes, thrills for; you're scared.

scared of jaehyun.

you have reasons to be, he won't lie. maybe you're right to be afraid of the way he towers over you, of his eyes shamelessly staring at your skimpy outfit.

"he's wasting my time," jaehyun adds, the smoke flowing out of his mouth as he talks, gently washing over your face. "and i hate when people think they can fool me around."

you shake your head again, swallowing down the lump in your throat. you don't want jaehyun to be pissed, and certainly not at you. it's not like it's your fault, but that's exactly what he wants; you to think that it's your fault, that you need to save your boyfriend from his troubles.

"jaehyun, i- i promise he doesn't mean to. i don't know what he's doing, but i'm sure-" you stutter out, and you sound absolutely pathetic.

he groans, interrupting you at the same time. "you know what, maybe you could make up for my time."

jaehyun comes even closer, caging you between his body and the wall. he takes his cig out of his mouth, throwing it on the ground and crushing the end under the sole of his shoe.

"...what?" you breathe out, voice shaky.

he bends down until his mouth is right beside your ear. "i'm sure haechan won't mind... he'd do anything for his stupid weed, anyway," he whispers.

and with that, he turns you around, his hands reaching your panties under your dress and dragging them down your thighs. you squirm around, trying to stop jaehyun's hands, but he locks them behind your back, making you whimper, feeling totally powerless.

he softly tucks your hair behind your ear, pressing his crotch against your ass, making you feel how hard he is. "it's okay, pretty. i'm gonna take good care of you..." he says, humming in your ear. "bet your little boyfriend doesn't do that often, hm?"

your mouth is wide open when he makes his way inside of you, forcing his cock between your tight walls. it's painful and you have a hard time standing steady on your legs, your knees threatening to fail you multiple times.

his thrusts knock the air out of your lungs, whines and moans slipping past your pretty lips that jaehyun imagines around his girth, choking on it like he bets you always do.

he doesn't even pull out, releasing himself deep inside of your pussy as he knows you'll think of him each time his cum will flood out of you and into your panties. and it'll also anger haechan, knowing that coward won't do a thing about it.

jaehyun gently pats your pussy when your panties are back on, only kissing the corner of your lips. "tell haechan i'm letting it slide tonight, but next time, i'm taking what's his."

[jaythes1mp]

5070 words, 29086 characters, 239 sentences, 116 paragraphs, 20.3 pages. Tag list: @zero-s-tea @chemicalsandghosts @yandere-enthusiast @starsdotalk @small-mushroom-fae @wpdarlingpan @dhanyasri @tojislvrr @phoenixgurl030 @mel-star636 @lilyalone @lavender-moony

Your secrets are ours, kid

Yandere BatFam x Reader — CH10 -> CH9 -> CH8 -> CH7 -> CH6 -> CH5 -> CH4 -> CH3 -> CH2 -> CH1

Please send me requests. I love writing but I can only do it with actual ideas to motivate me🙏

On your late-night journey home, you're cornered by one of the numerous street criminals prowling the streets of this cursed city. Getting mugged in Gotham isn't anything out of the ordinary, but even still, you can't help but feel surprised. It seemed that strangely enough, the past four years, thugs had begun to avoid you like the plague.

This was a situation you hadn't found yourself in since you were just a fifteen-year-old kid, still struggling to find your footing in the grimy underbelly of Gotham.

The street thug pinned you against the wall, holding you in place while her accomplice jabbed the cold barrel of a gun against your head.

Your heart beat rapidly in your chest, fear and panic clawing their way up your spine. Your breath hitched in your throat, a cold sweat pricking at your skin as you instinctively raised your hands in surrender.

As the cold metal of the gun was pressed harshly against your temple, you fought to tamp down the tremors shaking your body. You knew that any wrong move could spell disaster, so you forced yourself to remain still, praying that the thugs would be merciful enough to let you free.

Your mind raced as thoughts of the worst-case scenarios flickered through your mind. The thug with the gun pressed against your head sneered, her grip on your shoulder growing tighter as she spat out a threat.

The sheer terror you felt in that moment was overwhelming, threatening to swallow you whole. The harsh reality of the situation settled on your shoulders like a crushing weight. You were all too aware that you had no experience in dealing with situations like this, leaving you feeling vulnerable and powerless. Your eyes squeezed closed, a lump forming in your throat.

The rough brick of the wall dug into your chest, the cool air of the night doing nothing to soothe the panicked frenzy of your heart. The thug's hand on your shoulder was a vice-like grip, their fingers digging deep into your flesh.

In times like these, you regretted ever turning down the self-defense classes that your old employer had offered. The weight of that decision settled heavily on your shoulders as you longed to have the skills to protect yourself from the imminent danger.

You silently berated yourself for your naivety and carelessness. It had been foolish to believe that just because the villains had avoided you for the past few years, you would be safe from any harm. Yet, here you were, pressed against a wall, a gun held to your head by street thugs.

As your thoughts ran wild, your mind spiraled into a whirlpool of grim possibilities. The thought of your friends' reactions to your potential death played through your mind - the pain and grief they would feel upon losing you. You wondered if Damian would be upset about his sketchbook, the most constant connection you had to him. If Jason would be filled with anger at the inconvenience of tidying up your belongings, if your... no. She’d probably find relief in your absence... You wondered if Tim would shed tears in sadness. The image of him crying, tears streaming down his face, left a bitter taste in your mouth. Then you thought of Bruce. Would he be disappointed you never got to accept his offer? Your thoughts spiralled as you got increasingly more upset. Who was going to feed your pet turtle...? Would she think you abandoned her?

The weight of those unanswered questions gnawed at your thoughts, the possible reactions of your friends, pet, and the people who had offered you a place to call home. Your mind latched onto the image of them crying, the thought of any of their tears causing a pang of anguish to settle deep within your chest. You didn't want to imagine your friends' pain upon your loss, but the what-ifs haunted your mind like a relentless ghost.

The rough bricks of the wall dug into your chest, the sharp edges of the broken and uneven surface biting into your vulnerable flesh. The cold, unforgiving metal of the gun against your skull pressed further against your skin, an imminent threat hanging in the air. You clenched your teeth together, fighting to hold back a whimper that threatened to escape from the back of your throat.

Damian's heart raced in his chest, thumping out a rapid rhythm against his ribcage. Disbelief and anger twisted his features into a fierce scowl. From his stealthy perch on a nearby rooftop, he had silently tracked your movements throughout the night, his gaze never straying far from your form. But now, as he watched intently as you were cornered by a bunch of worthless thugs, his protective instincts surged through his veins. How dare these lowly criminals think they had the right to touch you?! Especially after all the efforts he had expended to ensure your safety. You were his sibling.

The sight of you in danger ignited a fire within him, burning hot with both rage and protectiveness. He clenched his jaw, his mind racing with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. How could he have let this happen? He had been so careful, making sure to keep watch over you from a distance, and yet here you were, at the mercy of criminals who were nothing but scum. His fingers dug into the edge of the rooftop, the urge to leap down and intervene overpowering his self-control. He didn’t have to think twice before swinging into action.

Damian swiftly made his way toward you, propelled by the rooftops with practiced ease. The cool night air kissed his face as he bounded between buildings, his agility and precision a testament to his years of training. He remained hidden from view, his black, yellow and grey costume blending into the shadows, allowing him to quietly approach the scene unnoticed.

As he drew nearer, he could hear the thug's threats, the cold barrel of the gun pressing closer to your head. His temper flared, a dangerous heat building in his chest. These worthless lowlifes were going to pay for putting you in danger.

Robin, perched high above, kept a vigilant eye on the unfolding scene. Every word from the thug's mouth only fueled his anger. He assessed the area, taking in every detail with a cold, calculated gaze. The street was eerily silent, devoid of any other souls. No potential witnesses or interruptions to hinder his intervention. This moment was perfect. A chance to make these pathetic thugs pay for their audacity. They dared to touch what was his.

Each breath Damian took was measured and steady, his heart drumming steadily in his chest. He knew he had to act swiftly and with precision. He couldn't afford any mistakes. You were his responsibility – his blood. No one was allowed to touch you. No one.

Robin’s muscles coiled, ready to spring into action at the slightest hint of danger. His eyes flickered between the thugs and their guns, mentally calculating the best course of action. His instincts were on high alert, every fibre of his being focused on the mission: protecting you.

He’ll make a mental note to have you under tighter security starting in the immediate future.

With a final, calculated assessment, Robin silently prepared himself for the inevitable confrontation. He would protect you at all costs. The thought of you getting hurt, because of his carelessness, was unacceptable. He would eliminate these fools before they could even think to touch you again.

The woman holding you, pinned your arms behind your back in a rough and painful grip. Their hold was unyielding, causing your arms to bend in an unnatural and uncomfortable position. You couldn't help but let out a small, pained whimper, the sharpness of the maneuver making you wince.

Your eyes pinched shut, and you forced yourself to take deep, measured breaths. It was your attempt to steady yourself, to hold back the wave of panic and fear that was overtaking you.

Your chest heaved with the force of each breath, trying to regulate your racing heart. A small shiver ran through your body, the fear and helplessness of the situation gnawing at the edges of your mind. The pressure of the woman's grip on your arms made you want to squirm and struggle, but you steeled yourself against the natural inclination.

Robin, like a silent wraith, leaped into action. His katanas moved in a blur, swiping the gun away from the goons' grasps before they could even register the movement. His presence was both dangerous and deadly, every muscle tensed and coiled like a predator ready to pounce. His sharp, grey eyes fixated on the thugs, a silent warning in their depths.

A sharp gasp slipped past your lips as the cold metal of the gun abruptly lifted away from your head. The sound of it banging loudly against the gritty, dirtied concrete ground echoed through the air, the sudden absence releasing a tiny bit of the tension that had been coiling painfully in your chest.

You stayed still, barely breathing, your body locked in the woman's tight and cruel grasp. Her hold on you was unrelenting, an indication that any wrong move would result in snapped bones. You couldn't turn your head to see what was happening, fear and pain keeping you rooted in place.

The woman's grip on your arms tightened, a painful reminder of the danger of any movement. You were trapped, unable to see what was happening behind you. Every instinct screamed at you to fight, to struggle and get away, but the fear of severe injury made you hold yourself perfectly still. The only thing you could do was remain in this terrifying, vulnerable position.

Robin's mouth curled into a snarl, his anger flaring as he saw you trapped in the woman's grasp. Your small gasp of relief at the gun being removed from your face only fueled his rage. How dare these pathetic humans touch you, his sibling, his family, without any regard for your safety and wellbeing. The thought alone filled him with anger he had trouble controlling. He had failed you.

As Robin stood before the thugs, his katanas held at the ready, he locked his gaze with the woman holding you in her iron grip. His eyes darkened with a fierce intensity, a silent challenge in their depths.

Robin's gaze, burning with righteous anger, fixated on the woman who held you captive. The air around him crackled with a dangerous aura, his muscles coiled tensely as he held himself back from pouncing on the pitiful excuse for a human being in front of him.

The woman holding you in an iron grip was clearly an amateur, her sloppy and harsh moves betraying her lack of experience. She seemed to rely on brute strength, rather than skill, to overpower her victims.

Her careless and overly aggressive approach was a stark contrast to Robin's years of training and discipline. He took in every detail, every movement and expression, noting the flaws in her techniques. She was like a novice facing a seasoned warrior. It was downright pitiful.

To Robin, the woman's every move stank of amateurishness. Her clumsy and brute force tactics were as subtle as a bull in a china shop. It was clear that she had never received any formal combat training; relying solely on the ability to intimidate and overpower her victims. In comparison, Robin was a paragon of discipline, control, and skill. The difference in their approaches could not be more stark. She was insulting you for even thinking someone like her could ever be in your presence.

The woman's lack of finesse and skill made Robin's blood boil. She was like a pathetic child playing at being a thug, an insult to the name of criminals everywhere. He clenched his jaw, the muscles in his neck taut with restrained anger. He could see her flaws from a mile away, her amateur tactics screaming for correction. His eyes narrowed as he assessed the situation, his mind racing with possible ways to take her down without harming you further.

Robin's intense gaze continued to pierce through the woman holding you. He was like a coiled spring, his muscles tense and taut, ready to pounce at the very next moment. He couldn't help but feel a sense of revulsion as he observed her sloppy moves. This is the type of amateur who would get themselves killed in Gotham in the blink of an eye. His anger flared further as he saw how carelessly she was handling you, her fingers digging into your flesh in a painfully tight grip.

For a brief moment, he considered just knocking the woman unconscious and freeing you from her grip. But then, with a cruel and calculated grin, a different thought occurred to him. He wanted to teach her a lesson. Maybe if she was truly frightened, she might actually learn something.

With a subtle flick of his wrist, Robin tossed one of his throwing stars at the ground, the sharp and sudden movement drawing the woman's attention. Startled by the sound, she turned her head to look at the star, her grip on you loosening just a fraction.

Robin seized the opportunity, and in the blink of an eye, he moved behind her, his footsteps so silent that they made no sound.

The woman's eyes widened as she realized Robin's presence behind her, but before she could turn to face him, he had her by the throat, his hand encircling her airway in a firm grip.

As Robin observed your trembling form, your eyes still squeezed tightly closed, his heart clenched in his chest. He could see the fear and helplessness your body was radiating and it infuriated him. You looked like a terrified animal caught in a trap, desperately trying to hide from your captor. The thought of how scared you must be only served to fuel his obsession. You needed their protection.

Robin's grip on the woman's throat tightened as he drew her closer to him, his face inches from her ear. His voice was low and filled with a dangerous edge as he snarled, "You dare lay a hand on MY family and think you'll get away with it? You're a pathetic excuse for a thug."

The ringing in your ears and the shortness of your breath is all you can focus on, having not heard the boy’s words. Luckily for him.

Seeing that you were still too scared to open your eyes or listen, Robin tightened his grip even further on the woman, his eyes narrowing as he leaned his head closer to her ear. "You thought you could get away with this? Pathetic."

As the woman began to struggle in his grip, her eyes widened as she realized the severity of the situation. Fear and panic filled her gaze, and her chest began to heave with labored breaths. Robin took a sadistic pleasure in seeing her fearful reaction. He smirked, his grip unwavering.

He was enjoying this. Teaching this low-life a lesson was like music to his ears. He wanted her to be terrified, to feel the same fear she had inflicted on you. You were his family. His.

As the woman gasped for air, her attempts to break free growing more frantic, Robin leaned in even closer, his lips almost touching her ear. The smirk on his face only grew wider. "Not so strong now, are you?" he whispered, his voice dripping with mockery.

As the woman's grip on you suddenly loosened in panic, it caused you to lose your balance and fall unceremoniously onto your knees with a thump. The sudden movement startled you, freezing you in fright. Your limbs locked up in response to the sudden movement, leaving you vulnerable and exposed as you knelt on the dirtied ground.

Robin's heart stopped as he saw you fall to the ground with a thump. His eyes widened briefly, his grip on the woman loosening slightly in shock. He watched as you knelt on the ground, frozen in fear and vulnerability.

His protective instincts flared up, and he had to suppress the urge to immediately rush to your side. Instead, he forced himself to remain focused, keeping the woman pinned in his grip.

Robin's sharp gaze snapped from the woman to you as he heard the thud of you falling to your knees. Concern immediately replaced his previous satisfaction. He could see the terror freezing up your body, rendering you frozen and vulnerable.

He gritted his teeth, feeling a mixture of anger and worry. He needed to get you out of this situation, preferably without causing you further stress or harm. His grip on the woman tightened again, cutting off her panicked gasps as he held her at bay.

With a quick, sharp jerk, he slammed her against the wall, the force knocking the breath out of her lungs. "Stay still," he commanded, his voice harsh and authoritative.

He then turned his attention to you, quickly crossing the distance between you. He crouched down in front of you, his eyes flicking over your form, assessing for any signs of injury.

"Are you alright?" he asked quietly, his voice a stark contrast to the harshness of moments ago. He reached out a hand, gently touching your shoulder as he tried to coax you out of your frozen state.

You looked up, your eyes wide with surprise and wonder, as you took in the sight of the young vigilante towering above you. Your throat closed up for a brief moment, your mind struggling to fully believe that it was indeed Robin, the Robin, standing before you.

You managed to force out a meek whisper, the word barely audible. "Robin...?"

In your current frightened and bewildered state, there are a million questions and thoughts running through your mind. In a normally clear state of mind, you would have jumped at the chance to ask the Boy Wonder for an interview. In this moment, however, the only thing you manage to let out is a hesitant whisper, his name. Your mind trying to piece together the reality of the situation.

Robin knelt down in front of you, watching as realisation flooded your eyes. He could almost see the thoughts spinning through your mind like a whirlwind. For a brief moment, he was thankful for your stunned silence. It gave him a chance to assess the situation without being bombarded by a thousand questions.

He watched you take in his presence, your gaze wide and filled with wonder and disbelief. The word 'Robin' escapes your lips in a barely audible whisper.

He nods slowly, acknowledging your tentative recognition, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

He could see the questions brimming behind your lips, but to his surprise, you remain silent. It seemed your fear had rendered you speechless, and for a moment, he found himself relieved. It gave him a few precious seconds to focus on the task at hand: getting you out of danger safely. He gave your shoulder a firm, gentle squeeze, his voice remaining hushed as to not startle you further.

"I'm here, you're safe." He tried to keep his tone calm.

Robin swiftly scooped you up, pulling you against his chest in an easy movement. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to pause, relishing the feeling of having you so close to him. His heart beat fast and loud in his chest, an undercurrent of fierce protectiveness and possessiveness rushing through him. The thugs already forgotten, as he now focused solely on getting you to safety.

As he quickly leaped from one roof to the next, never slowing his pace, he spoke, his voice low and even. "Where do you live?" He’s already running in the direction.

He kept a firm but gentle grip on you, making sure that you were held safe and secure in his arms as he ran. The wind whipped around you, cool and exhilarating, as Robin navigated the Gotham rooftops with practiced ease. He repeated his question, his tone now slightly more demanding, as he continued traversing through the city.

You tried your best to gather yourself, blinking against the cool night air buffeting your face as Robin held you against his chest. Your voice was soft and slightly shaky as you spoke, the wind attempting to carry your words away.

"Just... just around the corner.."

Robin nodded, accepting the information without question. His strides didn't slow as he continued moving, the muscles in his legs propelling him forward with trained speed.

The city lights flashed by as Robin swiftly carried you through the maze-like labyrinth of Gotham's rooftops. His strides were long and purposeful, his movements fluid and precise. His arms held you firmly, one hand tucked under your legs and the other looped around your back.

Despite the circumstances and the speed at which you were moving, he took great care not to jostle you any more than necessary. It was clear that you were in pain and scared, and he wanted to minimize any further distress.

“... thank you.”

As you murmured your thanks, Robin's heart clenched in his chest. The pure gratitude in your voice was a stark contrast to the vulnerability and fear he could feel in your trembling form. He wanted so badly to respond, to tell you how much you meant to him, how much he was willing to do to protect you, but he remained quiet. He had to stick to their plan. Right now, he was solely focused on getting you home, where you would be safe from harm. His arms wrap tighter around you. He gives a simple nod in response.

You lifted your hand slightly, carefully pointing in the direction of your apartment balcony. The gesture was small, but it was enough for Robin to understand your meaning.

Without a word, he altered his course, angling his body to head towards the balcony you had indicated. Each leap and bound over the city skyline brought him closer to your apartment, the destination in sight.

Despite his casual demeanor, Robin was fully aware of the path they were taking. Years of patrol and countless hours of study had etched the city's layout into his memory, a map constantly present in the recesses of his mind.

He could flawlessly navigate the maze of Gotham's buildings, his muscles and movements guided solely by pure instinct. Every twist and turn was memorized, a testament to his extensive knowledge and dedication.

As they approached your apartment, he adjusted his hold on you, preparing to make the final leap onto the balcony.

With a final powerful bound, Robin lands on the balcony gently, steadying you against his chest. He carefully lowers you to the ground, his hands lingering on your body for a moment longer than necessary, as if ensuring you were truly safe and sound.

He takes a moment to glance around the vicinity, his eyes scanning the area for any potential threats. The Gotham night is relatively quiet, the sounds of the city reduced to a hushed hum in the background.

Once satisfied that the area is clear, he turns his attention back to you. He takes a step back, giving you a moment of space. His eyes watch you closely, searching for any signs of distress or injury.

He lifts a hand, reaching out to gently touch your cheek. His touch is gentle, but his voice is firm. Emerald eyes searching your form. "Are you alright? Did they hurt you?"

Despite his mask concealing his face, the concern in his voice is palpable. He takes a step closer to you, his hands moving to your shoulders as he steadies you against him. His gaze remains fixed on you.

You gently shook your head, a small, reassuring grin playing at your lips. Despite your earlier fear, you were clearly feeling somewhat better. Perhaps it was the adrenaline rushing through you, or the simple fact that you were safe now.

Robin noticed the shift in your expression, a slight furrow forming between his eyebrows as he looked down at you. He could feel the tension slowly draining out of your body.

Robin observed the small smile on your face, his eyes studying you closely. The brief moment of relief he felt at your reassurance was quickly replaced by a sense of caution. He could see the adrenaline still coursing through you, but he knew from experience that it was a temporary high. The fear would return sooner or later.

He nodded, accepting your answer but still feeling a small pang of unease. "Are you sure you’re okay?" he repeated, his hands still on your shoulders.

Your brows raise in slight disheveled amusement. This was the infamous arrogant vigilante? You call bull.

“Yeah, I’m alright now. Thank you.”

Robin's eyes narrow slightly at the amusement in your tone. Despite your gratitude, he can sense your slightly disbelieving and slightly amused. For a moment, he wonders if you are treating him like a kid playing dress-up.

He straightens up, his grip on your shoulders tightening ever so slightly. He cocks his head to the side, his voice a mix of annoyance and determination.

"What's so funny?" he asks, the slightest hint of defensiveness in his tone.

Despite the irritation in his voice, there's a hint of vulnerability. He's not used to being questioned, especially not by someone he feels responsible for. He wants to be taken seriously, to be seen as more than just a young boy playing at being a hero.

He takes a step closer to you, his gaze never leaving your face. "I'm serious. You could’ve been seriously hurt," he says, his voice stern. He's not used to expressing his emotions openly, but the thought of you in danger is making his typically controlled facade start to crumble.

You bite your tongue, holding back the sarcastic remarks and jokes that usually come so easily to you. You were well aware of how close you had come to serious danger, and the severity of the situation.

Robin can see the restrained smirk, the flicker of a joke on your lips, and it irks him more than the actual sarcasm. He's used to dealing with sarcastic criminals and sarcastic bats, but the thought of you making light of your own safety is frustrating. He clenches his jaw, trying to keep his annoyance under control.

"This is no joke," he finally says, his voice firm. "What you did was stupid. Walking alone in Gotham at night."

Robin's eyes held a mixture of emotions, anger and frustration and worry and protectiveness. But beneath it all, he was most angry and frustrated with himself. He should have been there sooner, he should have been able to stop those thugs before they even got close to you. This event was only proving to him what he already knew - you were not safe in the city, not without someone to protect you. They needed to speed up with their plan before he goes insane.

He withdrew his hand from your cheek, the loss of his touch leaving a cold emptiness in its wake. He fidgeted with his utility belt, a nervous habit.

"I have to go." He murmured, his voice low and laced with a hint of reluctance. His eyes scanned over you one more time, mentally committing your features to memory. It was as if he were trying to memorize every detail, every curve and contour of your face.

"Be sure not to walk alone at night. Or ever." The last words came out as more of a command than a warning, a hint of desperation laced in his tone.

Before you could even think of a response or express your gratitude, Robin had already vanished into the night, leaving you standing alone on your balcony.

Despite the circumstances, a soft, almost wistful grin crept across your lips as you replayed the events of the night in your mind. Despite the danger and the near brush with violence, you couldn't shake the thrill of meeting the young vigilante, the Batman’s associate himself.

Even though you didn't get to ask all the questions you wanted, the encounter was still something exciting.

You silently crept into your room, taking care to be as quiet as possible so as not to wake Jason who was probably asleep in his room down the hall. You shrugged off your bag and jacket, discarding them to the side before crawling into the safety and warmth of your bed. You bring your hand out to tap softly against the glass of your turtles enclosure as a silent good night, cuddling further under the blankets.

Feeling the comfortable weight of the sheets surrounding you, you let out a soft sigh, already feeling the exhaustion starting to pull at your eyelids. Unaware of the chaos that was brewing at Wayne Manor, nor the many sets of watchful eyes observing you through the carefully placed cameras that dotted the room.

The cameras strategically placed throughout your room recorded every subtle movement as you got yourself settled into bed. Every blink and every shift was captured in sharp, high-definition video, the images streaming directly to the computer screens at Wayne Manor.

In the depths of the batcave, the video feeds played on several large screens, each one displaying a different angle of your room.

Multiple figures looking over the room full of monitors, displaying your every breath, every toss and turn as you drifted off to sleep. Watching each and every twitch, each flutter of your eyelashes.

The silence in the batcave was heavy, only disrupted by the soft hum of the computer equipment and the occasional murmur between the group of figures huddled in front of the bank of monitors.

Each screen showed a different angle of your room, the camera feeds streaming smoothly, giving an intimate view of your every movement. Every breath, every twitch, was recorded, observed and analyzed by the watchful eyes monitoring you. Every inch of your room was on display, the cameras capturing even the tiniest detail.

Even in your sleep, you were still being watched.

No use of y/n, no descriptive features for reader, no mention of gender.

Does anyone have any ideas for the name of your pet turtle?

[professorcalculusstanaccount]

People have been asking for a Chang timeline post! Chang not only represents a turning point in the politics of the Tintin series, he also represents a sense of chronology in the otherwise floating timeline of the canon. While Tintin almost never discusses his past, Chang is a key part of his personal story in Tintin in Tibet.

I imagine him and Tintin being around the same age, with Chang being a few months younger.

Child - Chang had a happy early childhood being raised by his father and grandparents. He never mentions his mother when recounting his backstory to Tintin, so my main guesses are she either passed away or his parents separated before Chang was old enough to remember her. His father and grandparents taught him how to cook from an early age, and taught him the importance of solidarity and community, lessons Chang will hold onto the rest of his life.

Early canon - Chang is orphaned. This sudden loss causes him to act out. He turns to picking pockets and causing general mischief until an orphanage takes him in. Chang learns a lot of skills just to survive - he’s stealthy, he’s street smart and pretty decent at climbing. His experiences as a street kid taught him to be wary of authority.

The orphanage provides a brief period of stability until it is swept away in a flood. Until this point, Chang has felt pretty powerless in his life so just goes with the flow, so when Tintin drags him out of a river he doesn’t think twice about going along with him to break up a drug ring in The Blue Lotus. Going on this adventure with Tintin imbues him with a sense of empowerment and purpose he never felt before.

Student - The Wangs adopt him pretty quickly after he busts the drug ring with Tintin. It’s a sudden change he struggles to adapt to, with the Wangs being wealthy academics and Chang coming from a working class background there’s a significant culture clash.

Tintin leaves just as quickly and rarely contacts Chang, even as his journalism career takes off, leaving Chang lonely and heartbroken. Chang tries to send him letters but doesn’t know that Tintin moved out of Labrador Road.

Having missed out on education for a bit Chang struggles with school. He feels unworthy of the opportunities the Wangs try to provide him with and a part of him feels they only adopted him because they were dazzled by him taking down that drug ring, an achievement he increasingly feels he will never live up to again. He struggles with mental health issues, but finds solace in photography, his portfolio getting him a place at university despite his bad grades.

Young adult - In an attempt to try and help Chang’s mental wellbeing the Wangs decide to send Chang off to visit his uncles before he starts university, only for Chang to nearly perish in a plane crash in Tibet. Ironically, it’s this near death experience that shakes him out of it. Chang has a renewed enthusiasm for life, taking to travelling, dance and photography. Didi trains him in some basic martial arts so Chang can fend for himself.

Tintin makes an effort to stay in touch after having nearly lost Chang. The two repair their friendship, and Tintin has him stay at Marlinspike when Chang studies in Belgium for his second year of university. By the time Chang comes around, he’s had a growth spurt and has been working out - Chang is pretty haunted by his skeletal state from his near death experience in Tibet, so has been making an effort to recover.

After helping Tintin with a case, Tintin gets him a job at his paper as his photographer. Being Chinese he faces challenges in the workplace, and he uses his charm to be as personable as possible. Unlike Tintin, he frequents quite a few staff parties, and ends up pretty popular!

A couple of years later, Chang tries to unionise the staff at the paper. He and Tintin are outed as a couple and the two of them are fired.

Middle aged - After fighting fascists with the Marlinspike team during WW2 Chang and Tintin settle down in Belgium, with Chang scraping out some freelance photography work and a part time job at a portraiture studio. War in China causes them to lose contact with his adopted family. 

While Tintin grows more cynical, Chang accepts the chaos of the world and mellows out a lot. He tries to be a supportive partner and makes extra effort to stay in touch with his uncles and cousins.

Elderly - Chang uses his skills in photojournalism when he gets involved in political activism. He and Tintin are finally able to reunite with Didi and his children in the 70s.

[galeorderbride]

The Forest For The Trees - Fic Request (Gale x F!Tav)

A Gale smut piece requested by one of my OG readers @meglet1. Thank you so much for the request and for being you in general!! I seriously hope you like what I’ve written for you <3

18+ MDNI (This is SMUT/tags below)

Summary:

After Tav is nearly killed in a fight at Rivington Beach, Gale lets his fear get the best of him and a new couple spat ensues. Leading to a peaceful resolution :)

Tags: PiV sex, semi-public sex, inappropriate use of mage hand, oral sex (m and f receiving, including some choking), words of praise/encouragement, creampie, fingering (vaginal & anal), multiple orgasms, self-indulgent, some references to Tav having body issues.

Word count: 4.7K

Mind the tags, everyone. Fic below the cut:

“I decided to choose you and live, then you go off and almost get yourself killed!”

Gale wasn’t the type to air out his issues in front of everyone, but this time, he couldn’t shake the nervous energy off. Panic and anxiety of balancing on an uneven precipice, powerless. Just days ago, he chose to stay with Tav instead of doing as Mystra commanded him, deep in that haunting colony, where the Elder Brain resided and, because he decided to live, remained a threat to the entire Sword Coast.

Less than an hour ago, he and Tav returned from the beaches of Rivington with their companions. Running into a gaggle of rival gangs ready to slaughter each other. The guild, run by the infamous Nine Fingers Keene, and the new recruits of this Stone Lord everyone was talking about. Gale cared little for whose alliance went where. Not when Tav had decided to intervene right in the middle of things, doing her best to settle scores and ending up having to fight both of them.

In the crossfire, Tav was hit with an electrified weapon, a hammer imbued with thunderous damage effects that nearly killed her with the impact against her spine. Knocked down, she spent the remainder of the fight unconscious, no one having time to revive her until they’d finished the fight. Across a landscape of crime syndicate corpses, Gale watched with intensity as Shadowheart struggled to revive her. The image of her near dissolved heartbeat still aching within him, harsher than the orb. Gasping for breath at the last second when he thought he lost her forever.

She’d regained balance quickly, the powerful healing of Selune now imbued within Shadowheart’s fingers, even if she hadn’t quite gotten to admit it yet. Tav was walking normally, a little fatigued but nothing more than that. Which gave Gale the opportunity to stop being worried for her welfare and be upset instead.

“Do you know how close you came to death? How much I worried Shadowheart wouldn’t revive you? All for a bunch of criminals who would’ve cared for the dirt under their boots more than you!” Gale exclaimed as he paced around the hay shed at their camp outside Rivington. Tav followed, arms across her chest as she tried to contain a frustrated sigh.

“I wasn’t trying to get all of them against us. How many times has convincing people to cool their heads worked on this journey? Times we never expected! I didn’t think this would be an exception,” she replied, her voice soft but assertive in her own defense.

“That’s what happens when you expect things to work in your favour! We can never assume anything is an absolute certainty, and I’ve been saying this from the beginning. I know it’s in your nature to stick your neck out for people, but do recall that I gave up on what might be the heaviest task of my life so I could be with you!” Gale continued, letting his panic get the better of him.

Tav’s eyes widened, now no longer trying to placate. “Don’t you use that against me! My encouragement to have you stay with me is not a blank check to use against me when I do something you dislike. I asked you to stay because I love you! And I had no intention of starting a fight today, nor did I plan to end up in the state I did!”

This was around when the rest of the camp began to hear them arguing. Frigid looks turned their way by Shadowheart, Karlach and Wyll. Eyerolls and mischievous scoffing from Astarion. Jaheira simply shook her head and mumbled ‘young love’ under her breath. Gale pretended not to hear it.

She looked at him with such offense, eyes dotted with the threat of tears from his fury. Any motivation to be cross with her slowly waning each time his eyes met hers.

“I love you too! Which is why I’m so off put by what happened to you. I don’t want to see you putting yourself in danger and disregarding forethought! I don’t think you understand just how much I can’t—”

Gale didn’t finish the sentence, brought on by a fear that he’d overwhelm her in saying such an intense thing. They’d confessed their love in a spur of the moment, when the culmination of all they’d been through was knocking at the front door. Emotions were high, and while he meant every word he said, he didn’t want to cross a line and compromise the start of a wonderful thing with Tav. Deep down, he’d loved her from the moment he saw her, and each day he got closer to admitting that out loud. Precisely why he reacted with such fear to what happened at the beach.

Tav crossed her arms, an expression of seriousness he’d never seen before. Well, not directed at him.

“Can’t what? Don’t let this be the time you don’t use your words, Gale. Because I am this close to storming off,” she said, pinching her index finger and thumb together in an impatient motion.

“I can’t…live without…you,” he said, his voice starting loud and then slowly quieting as he completed the sentence.

The two of them stopped short, silence washing over them as his words sank into both their minds. Memories of their first night together flooding back, when he showed her everything he could offer. A beautiful experience in the Outer Planes, where their souls entwined within currents of raw weave. Expressing their new love in countless ways, too many for one evening, but they did all they could. Loving, tender, but despite it all, not real. Not bodies together, the physical exertion of passionate, violently yearning intimacy. Just what Gale became tempted with after he spoke those long awaited words, as the anger melted from his system and replaced itself with carnality.

There wasn’t time for Tav to respond. Astarion cut in with his usual mocking tone. “Would you two get a damned room? Your voices are grating and I’m trying to enjoy a nice glass of wine I stole from Last Light.”

“I knew that bottle was familiar!” Jaheira cried out, no longer paying attention to Gale and Tav.

Tav sighed, bothered by the chiding of their companions. She felt on the spot, watched in all the wrong ways. Gale gently grabbed her arm.

“Come over this way,” he demanded, short and impatient. Quite possibly the briefest she’d ever heard him speak.

He pulled her away from the camp, a short but fair distance from their companions. Clusters of bushes and broken trees began to fill the space as he brought her forward. The sun was setting above them, hues of paradisiacal magenta and orange above them, beaming through the shaking leaves. Tav didn’t have much time to gaze upon the natural beauty, for Gale led her as if running to safety.

“Gale, where are you taking me?! You’re pulling too much, I’m going to lose my balance,” Tav questioned.

A few seconds went by, Tav’s curiosity getting the better of her as she’d never seen him so flustered. Trees surrounded them, but not enough to block the bustling city lights of Rivington on one side and the fire of their camp on the other. Voices of Karlach and Lae’zel talking could still be heard from the distance they stood. Tav had never been to this side before, but Gale had a way of making her feel safe no matter where.

“Come here, love,” he said, his arms moving to hook around her waist as he pushed her gently against a large tree.

She had little time to take a breath before his lips were on hers, soft but with an ardent passion once resting in bubbling irritation, now sprouting into lust. Their bodies pressed together, hips against hips as Tav began to melt into his wandering touch. Her knees nearly buckled when his index finger grazed the ridge of her jaw, tongue caressing her own. Temptation to run her fingers through his wondrous hair was too great, that strange sensation of a near death if she didn’t, silken texture on her skin enough to forget about everything they argued about.

But his words hung loose in her mind, and she pulled out of the kiss for a moment. Their faces still centimetres apart as she whispered, “I can’t live without you either. I’m sorry I wasn’t careful.”

Gale rubbed his nose against hers, that playful, breathy grin plastered on his face. “Let’s just look out for each other, alright? It’s so easy to get ahead of oneself, and I love you too much to watch idle by and pray you know the risk. You are a powerhouse of might, my love, but neither of us is invincible.”

“I know, I know,” she said in a hushed tone, so whisper thin the crickets chirped louder. Night fell fast, unburdened by clouds and blanched with a sea of stars. Everything was perfect, a moment in time that both of them longed for since their first time together. Opportunities never coming soon enough as their arduous adventures took precedence over everything. Now was the time, when the sky’s darkness masked them from the rest of the world’s troubles.

Gale answered with peppering kisses down Tav’s neck, shivering at the supple softness against such a sensitive area. For the first time since before Mystra, he wanted something purely physical—mortal. Covered in the finite flesh of his new love, giving pieces of themselves as a simple reminder that they remained alive. He’d forgotten the lure of that desire, powerful and impossible to satiate without going the full way, being as close to Tav as humanly possible.

Cracked bark scratched the itches of Tav’s back, pressed ever harder with each kiss from neck to collarbone. Desire budding at the touch points of her body; at the tip of her breasts, the heat of her ears, the tingling between her legs. Those parts growing more swollen with want when she felt the brush of his palms around her waist, fingertips dipping under the hem of her shirt to tickle her lower stomach. They were like teenagers sneaking around behind a schoolyard, eyes darting back and forth to make sure no one saw them enjoy each other. A thrill long forgotten on both sides.

“Gale, won’t someone hear us? We’re still close to camp,” Tav said between laboured, lustful breaths.

“With all we’ve been through, I highly doubt they care. But to ease your anxieties,” Gale replied, waving his hand to create a violet purple dome around them, “A silencing spell.”

“Perfect,” she said.

With a quick maneuver, Gale unclipped the belt of her wrapped shirt, slowly folding the fabric over her shoulders. He took his time, relishing in the pull of cloth from skin, little reveals each second until she bore herself bare to him. A maroon brasier remained, almost black under the moonlight and slipping low. Enough to catch a glimpse of her nipples, begging to spring free from constriction. Meanwhile, Gale spread her longer shirt across the ground, using clothes as a makeshift bed—if not to remedy the future ache of his knees. He unwrapped his robes as well, left only in a white, linen shirt and trousers.

He could hardly concentrate, the beauty of Tav under the moonlight too transfixing to not stare upon. Fitted perfectly in her under clothes, the rise and fall of her chest teasing him without trying. Watching like she didn’t notice, but she did, and began to strip for his pleasure. Removing the straps of the bra first, slow against her shoulders, the perk of her breasts peeking out before the clasp snapped free. Gale stood before her, watching with a subtle grin.

“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Tav. Do you know how much? How I ache to the point of fever when graced with your presence?” He asked, voice dark with lust, a gruffness she didn’t hear when in the Outer Planes.

“Even as I am? No magic or beautiful strands of starry weave around me? Surely this can’t be as exciting as that time,” she said, not intending to be self conscious, but failing to keep that in check. Not a goddess, not a higher being in the form of a body, but just herself. Scars, blemishes, bad angles and all. Mortal in all the wrong ways.

“As you are is more than anything the weave could offer. Having you naked under the moon like this is a memory embedded in my mind for eternities to come,” he said, stepping over to her to help unbutton her pants. He ensured his fingers touched every part, no matter where, and his breath against her neck warmed and cooled.

“Oh, my, you give me no chance with words like that,” she said.

Between bountiful, romantic kisses, the rest of their clothes were discarded into the flattened pile. Too impatient to go somewhere with room to conjure a full bed, absorbed in the embrace of each other as they fell into the fabric. Tav straddled his waist, lowering down so she could still glide her tongue against his. Never wishing to part her lips from his for the rest of the night. Craving the push of his hands embedded in her skin, down her spine and over the hill of her ass, ending with a firm squeeze.

Not a single part of her didn’t feel something. Her nipples gliding against his chest hair, hardening them in seconds with the playful tingle at the tips. His hands finding purchase, amused enough to spank the right cheek with a hard enough force to have her yelp giggle and yelp out loud. And that irresistible grind of his growing erection pushing against her core, hastier than himself, simply begging to push into that tight, unoccupied hole. Just the beginning, and yet she already preferred being together like this, fully in tandem with each other, nothing but their beating hearts and heated bodies.

Eventually, both of them needed to take a breath, locked in a heated make out for a time they lost count of. Tav lifted her body up, back arched in pleasure as Gale followed teeth-first. Biting, sucking, licking her nipples, each side deserving of his equal attention. Delicate moans grew into hot, heavy woes of passion, caring little for noise control with the purple dome of silence above them. Saliva trailed down her breasts, her wizard so lost in the ecstasy of tasting those pink, round buds. Hugging her in his arms, moving his cock against her to feel the head getting wetter with her slick.

Tav whispered in his ear, fingers tangled in his hair, “Perhaps I should get into danger more often, if this is the consequence.”

Gale chuckled, muffled by the slide of his tongue around her earlobe, “No need. Should you want my services, all you have to do is ask. Nicely. With a very eager ‘please’. Now, I am on the precipice of sliding into you this instant. But I’d have you come first.”

Hands firm on her ass, he pushed her forward, legs buckling over as he laid down. Angling himself so her core hovered over his face as he continued, “On my mouth, darling.”

Unable to contain her giggles, she adjusted her legs to straddle the sides of his face. Too gradual for Gale as he grabbed her hips and pulled her down. Tav gasped from the heavenly sensation, his lips and tongue all over her pussy in seconds, nodding his jaw up and down to stimulate her slit with his stubble. His tongue moved with expert precision, letting Tav take control of the pace as he moaned into her cunt, slurping and sucking at her as if drowning himself in her essence. There wasn’t enough lip biting and stifled moans in the world to keep her from building up to a snapping orgasm, inch by inch as she swivelled her hips around his face. His nose jutted against her pubic bone, mouth focused entirely on her swollen clit, pushing her down to ensure she wouldn’t move away. Even as her inner thigh muscles shook with pleasured tremors.

Tav stuttered out, “Holy fu…ck…Gale, I’m s-so close. Keep going, keep going! Now, yes, now!”

At that point, she was using any superlative her blurred mind could conjure. An orgasm flowered within her, strong, hot and never felt in a very long time. She clawed his hair under her legs, twitching hips riding out a wet climax, dripping into his beard. A taste he’d never get enough of, buttery and sweet on his tongue. He’d be happy to suffocate under her in a bid to have her finish again.

Coming down wasn’t an option, continuing to flick his tongue against her clit even as her muscles relaxed. Sensitivity stung at her pussy, sharp hits of pleasure shining through with each feral moan he made. A sound so enticing, she melted for him, allowing his hands still on her ass to push her further forward, rear completely up. Behind her, he snapped his fingers, figments of magic beckoning around her in a light blue glow. Tav could barely pay attention, lost in the feeling of his tongue lapping at her cunt. Until two fingers pushed into her entrance, filling her quick but smooth in an electrified vibration. A mage hand, finger fucking her from behind. Taking her to a place of impossible pleasure, no choice but to let go.

As Gale sucked at her clit, muffled words came from below her, “Does that feel nice, my love? Can you cum all over my face again? That’s it, let the hand fuck you, good girl.”

“Gods above, Gale, I’m so sensitive! But fuck it feels so good!” She exclaimed, whimpering with each buck of her hips against his mouth, the hand following every angle so not a centimetre pulled out. Pumping into her tight walls, angling in just the right direction to have her shaking for a second climax.

“Let me help you even more,” Gale said, motioning his wrist to command the mage hand to push its thumb at the entrance of her asshole. Prodding in and out, gently easing in enough to thrust in the same rhythm as the fingers, slick sounds of sex invading her ears. She gasped at the hot tightness, cunt thoroughly stimulated in every way. It was perfect, hitting every spot just how she liked, and some she didn’t know existed. Gale was simply eager to please, laughing slyly as he felt her orgasm again.

Tav quaked at her second finish, overwhelmed with searing ecstasy. She cried out, “I can’t take it anymore, please! Too—too sensitive.”

The mage hand vanished with her command, easing the pressure of overstimulation palpating in her veins. Gale couldn’t resist one, soft kiss on her clit before letting her move off of him. Without her body to focus on, the ache of his rock hard cock snapped into awareness. Precum dotting the head, so stiff he feared it might break at the gentlest touch. Proven wrong when Tav brought her lips down to the tip, licking off the salty cum. Giving him a taste of his own medicine as he shivered in sensitive rapture. Both of them had a tendency to get carried away, as what was meant to be a simple tease with her tongue led to her taking his cock into her mouth. Using her hand to pump at the bottom of the shaft, too big to go all the way down.

Choking and sucking sounds filled the air as Gale writhed under the mercy of her mouth. Running her hand up and down his bare thigh, hypnotized by the lusty song of his satisfied whimpers. He wanted to tell her this wasn’t necessary, he enjoyed seeing her enjoyment. But as her throat coated his cock, he was rendered speechless. More so when she bobbed her head up and down, moaning through her nose as he gently joined her by fucking her mouth. Small, quick thrusts in fear of hurting her, but enough to make his calf muscles strain.

Spit and precum doused his cock as she lifted him out of her mouth, a raunchy ‘pop’ sound coming from her lips. Gale’s shaken, pleasured sighs covered the forest, stimulated by the cold air kissing the wet surface of his raised erection. Tav fawned over how it glistened, her core pulsing and tightening with the silent beg to be filled. Surely, she’d pass out if he wasn’t inside her immediately.

Gale exhaled deeply, shaking his head with unfathomable joy. “You will be the death of me. That felt…so good. I don’t even know how to describe it.”

She smiled, failing to contain the blush on her face. How she loved to know he was already satisfied. “We’re not done yet, my love.”

Her leg hooked back over his waist, straddling him again. This time, angling the opening of her cunt right against the desperate head of his thick cock. He looked so beautiful below her, gleaming with sweat and rosy with anticipation. Fingertips tickling up and down the sides of her thighs. Gods, when he laughed, that lusty chuckle of boiling desire had her foolish in his arms. She chased that sound, easing down on his cock until he bottomed out inside her. The stretch and slick of her walls fluttering around him forcing a high pitched whimper from her. Clit shuddering at the sensation of little hairs against it, nearly orgasming right there. Never had she wanted someone so much, craved another’s touch in a way she didn’t know was possible until meeting him. Everything about him was magnificent.

“Moan for me, love. I want to hear your every sound as I fuck you,” Tav demanded, locking her palms on his chest as she began to ride him. Fast, fervently, hips bucking back and forth so good he obeyed instantly. Husky, sultry, moans and even guttural growls with each grind of her pussy against him.

One hand stayed on her thigh and the other kneaded at her breast, his thumb flicking and pinching her nipple while her languid movements continued. By now, he could see when she was close, biting down on her lip to concentrate as she ignored her aching muscles. More warmth and wetness dripped along his cock. He nodded to her, let her use him as a toy for her own pleasure, moving pieces of hair from her face at the same time.

“Let me see you cum again, please. That’s it, ride my cock like that. So wet for me, I can’t believe it. Keep going, yes, very good. You’re doing so well,” he said, words of encouragement coming with his thumb moving to her clit. Rubbing the spot he learned she liked, just a little assistance in getting her over that impossible edge.

Tav’s body cramped up as she squeezed onto his cock, crying out Gale’s name as her third climax ripped through her lower half, felt even at the tingling peak of her breasts. He could’ve done anything in that moment, came anywhere he liked, and she’d be fine with it. Her orgasm all the stronger as she pictured being covered in him from face to pussy. A debauched mess on top of clothes, fully vulnerable to him.

Seeing her above him brought his own release closer. Unable to wait as he pulled her torso down to kiss her hard, pushing his tongue into her mouth with reckless abandon. Tav yelped playfully as they kissed, paralyzed by the ecstasy of being fucked into. Sore, sensitive and hedonistic, she relished in the hard thrusting and the heated touch of their perspired bodies together. Wishing this would never end but craving his release inside her at the same time.

She left the kiss to whisper in his ear, biting his earlobe, licking at him, “Finish inside me. Please, I want it so bad.”

“Oh, gods, Tav I’m going to—right…ah!” He groaned out the unfinished sentence, his impatient cock spilling inside of her tight hole. He pulsed within her, feeling his spine arch as he experienced likely the greatest orgasm he’d ever had. Reaching his entire body, lasting longer, an addicting taste of eternal paradise. Tav’s soft whimpers the final touch to the most wonderful feeling.

She moved off of him, laying flat with her legs open. Gale still felt trickles of desire in his stomach, not enough to get hard again so quickly, but enough to lean over her thoroughly fucked cunt. His breath warmed her skin as he caressed his tongue along her clit, letting his index finger rub her cum-filled entrance as he did. All she could do was wheeze, too tired for a full moan but adoring the feeling of his mouth on her again. He was gentle this time, careful not to bring out the growing soreness. No, he just softly licked, kissed and sucked at her clit, stomach sinking with carnal intrigue as he watched his cum dripping out of her. He wanted to mark his territory, give her one more orgasm to be certain she knew she was his. Even just a little one.

Tav concentrated with the full power of her exhausted mind, feeling herself ready to climax once more. She couldn’t believe how skilled he was, moaning his name out again as he pinched her lips together, pushing her clit further into his mouth. That, mixed with the amazing sensation of his cum inside of her, was enough to inch her into that little release. Her fingers clutching his hair, pulling slightly as she came for a fourth time. A tiny bit more of his seed poured out of her as she relaxed.

“Perfect,” he said, leaving her core and moving to lay beside her, “You are amazing. I can’t believe you’re real sometimes.”

Tav smiled, cuddling into the crux of his shoulder, “I should be the one to say that. No one’s ever been so attentive to me. And by the gods, I have never finished that many times.”

“Oh, my love, I am excited to inform you that wasn’t even all I can do. If I had you in a bed, with a private bathroom, different corners of the room to take you in; you’d have at least six, I’d make sure of it,” he replied.

“In that case, we must find an inn as soon as possible,” she replied, kissing his cheek as he scooped her body closer to him.

They cuddled for a few minutes more, letting the cool, night air dry their sweat-drenched bodies before returning to camp. Hand-in-hand, eyes doled with the fire of new romance and the comedown from lovemaking. What began as the rising moon, evening pink with sunset, had transformed into deep night, pleasantly dark and glinting with fresh, sparkling stars. Neither of them wished for a conclusion, but sleep beckoned and they had no idea what might happen tomorrow. Tav only knew that she’d refrain from taking too many risks, as now she’d become a fool for someone else entirely.

Gale and Tav agreed to share a tent tonight, and from now on. First, she went to the smouldering fire to grab a piece of sunmelon and her water canteen. The rest of the camp now silent as everyone retired for the evening, except for their most nocturnal companion: Astarion. Who had returned from the other side of the woods, pallid complexion brighter than usual, a sign that he just fed on an animal.

“Good hunt?” She asked, finishing off the last bite of her sunmelon piece and throwing the peel in the fire.

“Never as good as the real thing, darling, but enough to tide me over. Perhaps I should’ve saved some for you, tired little adventurer,” he replied, brow raised in that cheeky expression. Always present when he was about to take the piss out of someone.

“Fruit and water will suit me fine. Goodnight, Astarion,” she replied, turning to head for Gale’s tent.

Astarion spoke as she walked away, “By the way, remind your wizard to maintain his silencing concentration. If I’m going to hear your debauchery, I’d rather hear it from the beginning and not halfway through. Goodnight, Tav!”

Tav cleared her throat, swallowing down her growing embarrassment as she walked to Gale’s tent. Knowing fully well what kind of teasing she’d endure the next morning. For now, she would simply sleep in Gale’s arms and deal with the rest as they came.

[maliciouslove]

𝕍𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕠𝕦𝕤 𝔾𝕣𝕖𝕖𝕟

NSFW, dark content, aged up characters (21+)

ʚ pairing ɞ scumbag villain!izuku midoriya x morally corrupt hero!reader

ʚ word count ɞ 2.7k

ʚ summary ɞ izuku grew up with all power taken from him, so he became the type of person that enjoys making others feel powerless. nothing feeds his ego more than a cute girl crumbling under his touch and feeling powerless to stop him from sliding his hands all over her body in the packed train. until he meets you—a peculiar, equally fucked in the head girl that actually enjoyed the things he was doing to her. enjoyed the thrill of almost being caught. enjoyed having power taken from her. a debauched, morally corrupt hero in disguise.

ʚ tags ɞ frotteurism (fetish for groping people in crowded places), tw dubcon, tw noncon, tw sexual assault, tw sexual harassment, tw exhibitionism, tw power imbalance, pussy job, public sex, creampie, cw degradation, use of “whore” once

Just like any other child, Izuku Midoriya grew up wanting to be a hero, however, despite his aspirations, the boy never manifested a quirk. Still, he never gave up and never lost hope—that is, until he failed the UA entrance exam and was brutally made fun of by everyone else.

“Look at this loser, thinking he could pass the exam without an actual quirk, what a joke.”

“Jokes are funny, this guy is absolutely pathetic. Go home kid, become a policeman or fireman instead, leave the hero work for those with quirks.”

“Maybe if you take a swan dive off a roof, you’ll be born with a quirk in your next life.”

Some heroes they were going to be.

And that was when his mind started getting corrupt. Izuku went down a different, darker path than the one he had envisioned as a child. He mixed with the wrong people and little by little he shed off his hero dream, discarding it alongside his morals, being perfectly content being a scumbag villain instead.

All power was stripped away from him once the world learned he was quirkless, so he sought ways to make others feel even more powerless than he did. Nothing stroked his ego more than making cute girls squirm and crumble under his touch in paralyzing fear, as his hands wandered over their bodies on a packed train. He enjoyed the way their eyes would shut tightly as if to avoid confronting the reality of their own powerlessness in the situation. The way their bodies stiffened the moment he leaned in closer to take a whiff of their perfume.

Why aren’t you saying anything, pretty girl? You have a quirk, don’t you? That already makes you more qualified than me to be a hero. So why are you letting me touch you? Why are you keeping your eyes shut? Why are you giving me so much power?    

Every little squirm, every hitch of their breath, every shake of their hands, and the way they would hope somebody would notice—it made Izuku feel powerful.

Do you know why you’re weaker than even me, sweetheart? Because you’re waiting for someone else to save you, you’re waiting for a hero.

 That’s how his days went by—hop on the train, find the weakest target, the insecure girls, the quiet ones, the ones whose eyes still sparkled with hope that a big strong hero will always be there to protect them. Once he found his victim, he moved in, ready to prove them wrong—show them how little heroes actually care. Towering over them, he would stare down their cleavage, letting his imagination run wild as his hands slide up the side of their hip. An accidental grind against their ass, a swift trace of his index finger down the inside of their thigh. His ministrations would make his targets shrink even further, the thrill of being found out feeding his power hunger further and making his cock painfully hard in the confinement of his slacks.

It became routine until he was able to pick out the perfect targets with a single glance, until he was able to predict what each girl would do and how everything would play out. What he wasn’t expecting, however, was to find someone equally as debauched as him one day.

With your car being in the repair shop for the next week, you had started using public transport to get to work. That of course meant having to travel during peak hours, more often than not finding yourself pressed against strangers, sometimes absolute creeps, and yet some very dark and hidden part of you enjoyed that, the unwanted attention making you buzz with excitement.

And today was no different—you found yourself pushed in the very corner of the train car facing away from the other passengers. A large green-haired man stood right behind you, muscular arm holding onto the ceiling rail as his entire body loomed over your much smaller one.

The train was fully packed and everyone was minding their business— some sleeping, some listening to music, and others glued to their phones. Yet, the man behind you seemed to focus all his attention on you. You could feel his gaze travel down your nape, studying the curvature of your spine, eyes moving downwards to your ass and legs. It felt like prickles on your skin, like an invisible hand stripping you of all your clothes and the thought made you rub your thighs together.

The lack of space forced you both to stand very close to each other, the motions of the train pushing you into his chest every so often. You could tell he was using every opportunity to smell your hair, craning his neck downwards to also look down your shirt. You wonder if he could see what color your bra was, if he could see the lace poking out from under the collar of your shirt.

The train changed tracks again and you found yourself pressed against his chest once more. This time his large hand found purchase on your hip, thumb gently stroking the bit of skin that was showing above the hem of your skirt. In the reflection of the window, you see his green eyes staring into yours, full of lust and hunger. His aura threatening to consume you entirely and for a second, your body filling with fear, a heavy feeling settling in your chest.

You look away, quickly.

Your heart is hammering in your chest and you fear he can hear it, taste the blood that’s currently coursing through your veins.

The train shifts and you can feel his hard cock pressed against your ass, his fingers on your hip tightening their grip. Your body feels paralyzed under his touch.

But not by fear.

Excitement.

You let your body be swayed by the motion of the train, making sure to circle your ass back onto his cock, licking your lips and buzzing with pleasure when your skirt hitches on his bulge, lifting and revealing part of your panties. You take a swift look around to see if anyone is looking your way, but as usual, everyone is consumed in their own thoughts, too absorbed by their own miserable existence to notice anything else.

You’re dragged out of your momentary haze by his breath on your neck.

“What do you think you’re doing there, sweetheart, has your mommy not taught you any better?”

His voice is deep, feigning concern for you while his eyes ooze vile lust and need for control. His presence devours you, it feels like sludge covering you from head to toe, sliding down your throat and filling your lungs with dread, making you unable to talk, unable to even look him in the eye.

His hands move down your hips, hiking your skirt up even further, fingers tracing the delicate lace of your underwear. Your clit is throbbing with anticipation so perfectly masked as fear. For Izuku, your heightened pulse meant paralyzing fear, but only you knew the truth about how this made your blood boil in excitement. How much you wanted him to slide his hands between your legs, to fucking take you right then and there, amidst the people that could see the pleasure blooming on your face any second now.

You faintly hear the unzipping of his slacks and feel the warmth of his cock on your bare skin—it’s thick and heavy against your ass cheek, smearing pre on your skin and panties. You’re feeling dizzy, body going limp in his strong arms as his hand sneaks around your waist and cups your pussy under the frills of your skirt.

For a brief moment, his movements pause as his mind processes what he’s feeling—you’re soaking wet, panties completely drenched, arousal practically dripping down your thighs. He was used to women’s bodies reluctantly reacting to him, but this was rather different. His eyes dart forward, inspecting your features more closely now—your heart was erratic, but not because of crippling fear. He leans in, noticing how blown your pupils are, consuming all the color in your eyes. Lips parted and chest heaving, he finally finds the piece of the puzzle that seemed to be missing, the explanation behind the odd feeling of being unable to predict what his prey will do next—your eyes had the same fragmented madness behind them.

You were just as sick as he was.

Without a second of hesitation, the hand that’s cupping your sex moves your panties to the side, thick and calloused fingers running through your wet folds, spreading your arousal and circling around your clit with tender motions.

A whimper escapes your lips before you can stop it—your skin is on fire and your insides are melting under this stranger's touch. You close your eyes in an attempt to compose yourself while the hand on your hip travels up your sides to squeeze your breast, teasing your nipples over the fabric. The green-haired man’s breath is almost as erratic as yours, his hard and leaking cock evidence of how turned on he was by your compliance, by the fact you were actually enjoying being used like this in public.

His cock now rubs between your thighs, his hot skin meeting your sticky one, and your insides beginning to knot just by the thought. You’re letting a complete stranger get off on you. You secretly hope that someone else on the train has noticed and is maybe even enjoying the show.

Your insides are aching for relief so you push yourself against his cock, the mushroom tip spreading and gliding between your folds, clit rubbing against the veins on his shaft.

Holding yourself with one hand by the ceiling rail and slightly lifting yourself onto your tiptoes, feeling the tip of his cock pushing against your entrance. Biting your lip you sink back onto his cock, taking two inches past your entrance, grazing your soft walls. The adrenaline coursing through your veins makes you experience every sensation trifold, makes you want to shamelessly grind against him and moan in ecstasy, but you are in public, therefore you compose yourself and relish in the slow feeling of being filled up by this man.

Izuku’s hand grips your waist harder, fucking himself into your tight, greedy cunt, feeling himself being sucked in by your plush walls. You are practically dripping onto his cock, the natural lubrication allowing him to smoothly fully sheathe himself inside you, putting his other hand over your mouth to prevent to moan that was about to escape your lips.

He holds you there, flush against him, the tip of his cock pressing against the deepest, most delicious spot inside you, subtle hip movements rocking you back and forth, the slow motion allowing him to massage that sweet spot he currently finds himself pressed against.

His eyes briefly scan the train cart, confirming that every passenger is still oblivious to what’s going on, continuing to push you off his thick cock, only to slide back in, softly, as though not to make a sound.

He’s big in every sense. His large frame hiding you from any onlookers, big hands easily maneuvering you onto his fat cock, splitting you open and pushing through the resistance of your tight hole. Your body jolts as he stretches you out almost painfully, but every time he thrusts inside you, you see stars in your vision from how deep he was.

You feel snug and warm around Izuku’s cock and he could stay buried inside you forever. He’s never met anyone this fucked up who would let him use them for his own pleasure. In a fully packed train nonetheless. You were sick and twisted just like Izuku, making him relish in the feeling, sensing that you’re not going to cause a scene and opting to let go of your waist in favor of sliding his hand down the front of your pelvis and playing with your puffy clit.

The moment he started drawing soft circles around your sensitive nub he felt your knees give in and your insides clench. God, you were going to come undone for him.

He watches your eyebrows pinch together as you bite your lip, slowly increasing the pace of his thrusts. You look so pretty, trying to keep your pleasure hidden, but shamelessly moving your hips to match his own.

For the first time during this train ride, you look into his eyes and maintain eye contact instead of shyly breaking it off. There is pure sin set ablaze in your eyes, a lustful need, a burning desire that he feels he needs to quench. Just your eyes alone could make Izuku cum on the spot, seductive and debauched, deprived and full of the same madness as his own.

Your eyes beg him, so he obeys.

With one final, rather harsh thrust Izuku buries himself to the hilt, emptying his load deep inside your gummy walls, spurting thick white ropes of cum while nuzzling his face in your neck—committing your scent to memory.

The train slows down as it approaches the next stop and the strange man gently pulls out. Your hands quickly fix your panties and skirt, hiding any evidence of his ministrations. His load slowly trickles down, soiling your panties, and yet the feeling brings you nothing but joy, as if you were currently on cloud nine.

The train comes to a halt, an alarm signaling the opening of the doors blares out.

The mass of people began leaving the train, the tall green-haired man seamlessly blending into the crowd and disappearing.

Avoiding eye contact and swiftly walking past clusters of people, Izuku was assured he was out of danger, turning around the corne—

“Where do you think you’re going, handsome?” You cut off his path and look into his eyes, a smile that didn’t reach your eyes plastered on your lips. “I’m not quite done with you yet.”

“Aw, I don’t think anyone’s ever come for seconds before.” Izuku places his hands in his pockets, giving you a smug smile and shamelessly tracing every curve of your body with his eyes, imagining what you look like without all those pesky clothes on.

“Aw, you know, you’re kinda cute, Izuku Midoriya,” The green-haired man's smile faltered. From the inside pocket of your jacket you pull out a card that he immediately recognizes. A card he was destined to never ever obtain. “Too bad I’m gonna have to arrest you.”

Before his mind could assimilate, you had easily pushed him against the wall with his hands behind his back, placing handcuffs on his wrists.

“Y-You can’t arrest me, you whore, you literally let me fuck you, what kind of hero are you?” He spits out in shock, words laced with venom, growling in attempting to shake you off, even though panic rises in his throat like bile. “You’re no fucking hero, you’re just like me.”

“Mm, I  probably am… but see, I have a quirk so I can get away with being a morally corrupt hero.” The words spoken in a sickly sweet voice rang in his ears, deafening, despite being whispered, meant only for his ears to hear.

Izuku opens his mouth to argue, to threaten to expose you, but you shush him with an index finger over his lips.

“Don’t bother, who do you think they are going to believe? A pro-hero with a quirk and a squeaky clean record, or a quirkless scumbag that we have hundreds of reports on for sexual harassment and assault?”

With no affection or remorse you yank him by the hair and lick the shell of his ear.

“I had fun, Izuku. Find me when you get out of jail.” You place a final feather light kiss to his cheek and lead him through the crowds to bring him into the nearest precinct.

No man would ever make you feel as alive and exhilarated as he did, the memory of what you did being something you often revisit when you get yourself off late into the night after patrol, thinking of his villainous green eyes, while your words would haunt Izuku and play on a loop each night as he plotted ways to find you once he had served his time.

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑! I do not own any of the characters or people mentioned in my work. these are works of pure fiction that do not reflect the views, opinions, or actions of any person, real or fictional. Furthermore, all characters I write for [thirsts, drabbles, fics, etc.] are aged up to 21 or older – they are adults with adult characteristics presented and written in adult contexts.

all rights reserved © by maliciouslove. my work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. all fanfics belong to me, please do not copy, translate nor repost the fics or files seen above as this is strictly prohibited.

[arminsfavoritepookie]

The weight of the day presses down on him like a leaden blanket. His once neatly-combed blonde hair is in complete disarray from the endless hours spent at work, his loosened tie draped haphazardly over his neck. He can feel the knot in his stomach tightening, his head aching with fatigue. He knows he should probably get cleaned up before calling it a night; he has to be up early tomorrow. But the mere thought of getting up from the couch, of wrenching himself out of this moment, fills him with dread. He feels trapped, imprisoned in the present moment by the force of your gaze.

You're perched on his lap like a pretty little bird, your flimsy hands skimming his face. You're whispering sweet nothings in his ear, urging him to relax, to let you take care of him. And fuck, it's working. He can feel tension ebbing out of him, melting away into the ether. He tries to push back the wayward strands of hair that are obstructing his vision, but his hand is shaking too hard to accomplish anything.

You start kissing down his jaw, a warm and steady hand splayed out on his chest. His mind goes blank as he savors the feeling of your soft lips pressing against his skin he resents how you make him feel like a needy puppy that's desperate for attention. He tries to speak, to tell you to stop, to tell you he has work in the morning, but his voice is stuck in his throat like a forgotten whisper. He's lost in the rhythm of your touch, completely consumed by the whirlwind of emotions that are conquering his senses.

You take notice of the slight discoloration on his knuckles as he reaches out to touch your cheek tenderly. You sense that he may have had a rough day and instinctively reach for his hand, tracing your fingertips over his bruised skin. He sighs in relief, letting out a long breath that seems to signify he's been holding in the pain. You're grateful to be able to offer him even a small measure of comfort, and you take his hand and bring it up to your lips. One by one, you place gentle kisses on each knuckle, savoring the feel of his rough skin against your lips.

You can feel his gaze on you, heavy and intense. You know what he's thinking, and it's the same thing that's been plaguing him ever since you two began seeing each other. It's the danger that surrounds you both. You know that he worries about your job just as much as you worry about his. You know that every time you go out on a mission, he fears that he might lose you. It's the same fear that has made him push people away in the past, the fear of losing the ones he loves. But you're not like everyone else. You're not just a random person who came into his life, someone who could leave just as easily as they came. You're different. You're his. And he knows that. He knows that he can't push you away because he's never felt this way about anyone before. He's never loved anyone as much as he loves you, and he knows that he'll never find someone else like you.

He's helpless, powerless to resist your charms. His hands find their way to your waist, fingers tracing the outlines of your flesh. He feels your gentle fingers sliding down his chest, stirring his urge even further. His breathing becomes ragged and heavy, his eyes glazing over as you work your sorcery. He knows he should stop you, that this isn't the time or place, but all he can do is lower his eyes, giving himself up to the moment, the trickery of the moment.

"Stay the night," he couldn't help but pathetically murmur into your ear, the words weak but frantic.

A small smirk played at the corner of your lips as you pretended to ponder his offer. "Will you let me take care of you if I do?" you asked, the twinkle in your eyes reflecting the mischievous intent in your words.

A low grunt rumbles from his chest in his response, almost too low for you to hear, but you knew he had agreed. "I'll let you do anything you want to me," he muttered, a rosy flush spreading over the tops of his ears.

And it's true. If you hold Nanami tight like this every night, he'll let you do whatever you please.

[suguru-getos]

Not sure if your requests are open or not, but if they are would you pretty please write a yandere Gojo who's darling is upset because he left her alone on her birthday to go "play" with his new best friend Geto instead? Like, he legit forgot it was anyone's birthday at all? But his darling tries to be sweet and understanding even though she's deeply hurt by him suddenly neglectjbg her so much? Pretty please and thank you. 😘🙏

Heyy!! I don’t take requests but I really like this prompt. Thanks for sending 🙇🏻‍♀️🩵 to be very honest Yandere Gojo would never forget his darling’s birthday. :DD Even normal Toru chan wouldn’t. ;))

Warnings: Toxic Toru :(( // Reader doesn’t really love love him but is in a major Stockholm Syndrome typa-thang. Forced fluff, implied sexual thingys.

You sighed, it’s been long past twelve and out of all the people who have wished you yet, Satoru isn’t one of them. It hurts because he could have gotten super mad and punished you for forgetting his birthday. Coming up with excuses thar you forgot the one person’s special day who should be meaning the most to you. A shiver runs through your spine to imagine the extent of his rage if that were to happen. Is it because you’re powerless compared to him? Is that why he doesn’t care about you? Why else would he go around Geto Suguru and not you.

Satoru comes back around 2 am, a little tipsy but you know he’s a lightweight so he must’ve not drunk much. He watches your tired eyes draping his form and raises a brow. “Aww, how cute? My Princess stayed up for me? You wanted to sleep with me that bad sweetheart?” Your lip quivered at his familiar, patronizing tone. It was your birthday. Your birthday! God damn it!

You looked down, trying to form the right words. “Toru, s’ my birthday today. I waited for your wish.”

It’s like he’s been anchored by the feet at rock bottom sea. He can’t breathe — surely he must not — oh fuck! He did. He forgot his sweet princess’ birthday… shit! “Oh- oh no- I’m so sorry! Oh no-” his beefy arms are quick to wrap around you, hugging you snug against his chest. “Please baby, m’ sorry. You never make a biggie out of it so I forgot.” He pouted, kissing your forehead and stealing apologetic kisses. You gnaw at your lip and looked down. “It’s okay, Toru.” Oh he knows it’s not okay.

Part of him dreads that you’d leave him & he doesn’t want to, but he’s close to acting out. “Are you going to leave me because of it, Cupcake?” He asks tenderly, though you know better & you’ve learnt better. “N-no! Of course not Toru. I’d never leave you.” You shake your head no like a trained bobblehead. Satoru takes a sigh, six-eyes trying to find out any hidden intents behind your words.

He sighed with defeat, “Pretty girl, I know, that was so careless and bad of me. Really bad. Let me make it up to you? I’d let you meet your friends!” He chirped. To live under Gojo Satoru means to live under his wing & his wing alone. He couldn’t care less if you’re lonely. All the more reason to ensure that your world revolves around him, no?

“Come here.” He craddles you against his lap, kissing your knuckles, your chin, your forehead, leaning in and kissing your clothed breasts. With Satoru, you’d never know how things might turn sexual. You do resist this time though, you don’t have the emotional capacity to endure this & be treated like a toy.

“I’m sorry Toru, can’t.” You leaned away with a subtle flinch. His brows furrow at the rejection but he knows he’s fucked up. “Alright Baby girl. I wouldn’t. Ssh~ let me make it up.” His phone comes out & he orders a cake — of course he would know your favorite flavor by now. He grins wide. “Thank god it’s still night ~ Tomorrow, I’m going to make sure you forget my fuck up! I promise!” He sounds so determined it helps you to feel less shitty. However the neglect still seeps through. Maybe because you’ve been living with him that he’s taking you for granted.

A snap of fingers shoves your trail of thoughts astray. “Ssh~ eyes here, mind here.” Satoru cooes, cupping your face and leaning his forehead against yours. “You know I love you, right? To the point of insanity.” It’s when he starts to get serious that makes you uncomfortable. You squirm a little at his words, nodding meekly.

“Then stop thinking wild thoughts or Toru has to be mean to your meanie thoughts & you wouldn’t like it.” He says it in such a delirious baby-talking way it makes you choke out on any thoughts whatsoever anyway. “Y-yeah..”

You know Satoru will make a big deal out of your birthday tomorrow. Might as well enjoy, even if it’s forced.

[anantaru]

— they‘re reading thirst tweets (celebrity au!)

including alhaitham, kazuha, scaramouche, venti x gn! reader

— ꒰ a/n ꒱ — i wrote this after watching the jackson wang and wonho thirst tweets video

— ꒰ genre ꒱ — crack, modern au!, celebrity au!

— alhaitham

the cameras change focus, lights on, 3.. 2.. 1..

in unlimited disbelief, alhaitham delicately held onto the little card he received from the camera crew— which was currently overlooking the interview he was in, as he attentively read through the letters on the paper with a careful uttering.

from @/milkboobielover69:

"i want alhaitham to suffocate me with his huge humongous tits."

at his words, the team of the late night segment— that was hosting the little shift, began to loudly permeate the room with their contagious laughs while alhaitham made severe attempts to cease his upcoming, flustered smirk.

"wow, this is turning into quite an occasion." he speaks in a monotone voice while his porcelain skin was saturated with a brilliant shade of red.

while his conveyance remained as usual, his instinctive body reactions had exposed him to the lens directly pointing at his face.

"i assume you don't mind if i question your username?"

he's facing the camera with his infamous, habitual smile, a brow lightly raised to further gather his thoughts, "it is quite, interesting, if you ask me."

frankly, at first, alhaitham couldn't believe he even agreed to do this, in his words, 'redundant arrangement'.

or that his manager put out said proposal in the first place— yet he acknowledged that it was altogether gravely important to embrace and further strengthen the connection he had built with his fanbase.

"are you all like this?" he asked, wholly amused, "because it is crucial for me to know before we execute that little plan of yours."

with a wink he ends his sentence, his eyes pointing straight to the main camera before playfully shaking his head— as to try to get rid of his flustered cheeks, gathering the next question soon after.

— kazuha

hello everyone, you may recognize me as kazuha from 6reeze and I'll be reading your thirst tweets tonight!

with an authentic greet towards the flashy cameras, kazuha decided to get on with his current performance right away, seeing this particular meeting as nothing more than an exchange of dialogue to further intensify his public relations.

"perhaps i should start with this one."

kazuha was excitingly leaving his pretty eyes roam over the little smartphone he held in his palm, gently scrolling over the numerous tweets the late night staff had specifically hand picked out for him.

from @/peepeeconnoisseur:

"kazuha gives serious hidden dom energy and i want him to ruin me."

at the tip of his issuing, he so soon had began to snicker into the transitioning lens, hiding his growing embarrassment with his hand and dramatically pressing it on top of his face to cover his eyes.

"compared to what i have encountered before-" he rapidly cut himself off, eyes widened in his own foolishness— the last he’d wish now was to accidentally air something personal out.

lightheartedly, kazuha carried on to rub his blurry eyes, in a powerless aim to cover his dazed look and tracks.

the fact that thousands of people were currently watching this right now didn't make it any easier nor turned the task somehow into simplicity, but to keep himself mustered and well collected was one of the very utensils he had been practicing on his entire career.

to have himself speak clearly he was coughing out, setting his attention back down to the phone in his hand, "i must admit, this is really quite tame."

the unexpected blows of laughs and convulsing titters packed the room with a genuine, hilarious response as one of the many staff members spoke out in a saddened voice.

"man, i really thought i'd get you with that one." the woman was crossing her arms around her body and frowned.

"if it was one of my band members i'm certain you would've stirred them off their footing." - "though some you might've flattered even."

the assurance was enough for him to almost completely forget the tweet he had read a couple moments ago.

though after the room went quiet again, kazuha decided to express himself on the topic just one last time, peering up to be to the core set in frame by the several cameras.

"all i have to add is that i am a man of hardly any words, i prefer to show off my skills instead."

— scaramouche

"you better not hold back with whatever we're doing here or you're wasting my precious time." ...

... "not my fans though, they're all important to me or whatever."

the blows and beats of irksome cameras and ring lights being shoved left and right towards their designated area had rigorously bothered scaramouche, who was, at present, situated on a cozy white chair with a couple cards in his hands, lazily leaning onto the armrest.

3.. 2.. 1..

... we're beginning now, massive apologies for the delay ... take one!

hello *rolls his eyes* i'm scaramouche from 6reeze and I'm forced to read your thirst tweets tonight ...

... you better have something good in store for me or I'll have to punish you in some unknown way.

instantaneously, scaramouche broke out of his established, not to mention unduly recognized, personality as he approached a quite nicer (in his own way) outlook for the cameras piloting on him.

after all, he was very much aware of how exasperating the media could turn out whenever he wouldn't control his disinterest in maintaining his public persona.

besides, the last setting he‘d need is for his band member kazuha to lecture him about the whole engage and its significant importance.

from @/http_scaranuts:

"i want scara to fucking spit in my mouth."

the way his body responded on its own was hysterically funny, "why would you want that?" in spite of the fact that he faked his disgust, his guise was revealing a different story.

his sides were splitting into an entertained smirk and not even seeking any effort whatsoever to hide his pleased smile.

he was engaging, almost hypnotizing, and managed to plant a significant impression onto many, which is what his fans idolized about him the utmost.

how downright blunt he was at times, mixed with a bewitching sweetness, a blazing firestorm that was able turn the whole music industry upside down.

scaramouche delightfully clicked his tongue— terrifically composed with an unchanging face.

"i'm barely two sentences into this and you already want me to spit on you."

with a little gesture, he finely brushed his hair strands back that were unkemptly falling all over his face, "how amusing."

"ultimately i'm going to give you a pass for the distasteful username though." he's innocently fluttering his eyelashes before blowing a quick kiss at the cameras, "so so sorry."

thus, scaramouche was carelessly flinging the little card back and tossing it onto the floor, already skimming through the next tweet.

— venti

the video established itself as the camera slowly shifted their focus on venti who was currently sitting in front of a white background, a couple stickers in his hands that had the late night logo inprinted on top of it.

"i didn‘t think anyone would write thirst tweets about me."

he‘s joking and setting up a pseudo guiltless attitude, as if he didn’t see a couple of those while curiously scanning through his notifications the other day.

but, well, to keep his performance going, he playfully waved at the camera and began to regret the fact that he had washed the rational thinking parts of his brain away with alcohol earlier.

venti always appeared wildly comfortable around the large screens and bright flashes of the studio room— essentially he was also known as one of the most talented as well as best performers of his entire group.

.. but maybe it was also due to the fact that he was mostly drunk, yet obviously not exposing it to his fans.

his eyes were now, a tone lower, when he glowered into the first of many cards, without further ado vividly brawling to keep his own poker face.

from @/l3t_thewindlead_thisp3nis:

"(i am not okay) if venti needs a stress reliever i volunteer as tribute."

subsidiary after prattling it out, venti narrowed his eyes towards the screen with a concerned look on his face before ultimately concealing his expression with the little card.

".. a stress reliever?" he asks, bluntly, before setting off the whole room to infectiously laugh.

venti himself nearly erupted into tears from how hard he’d been chuckling at the tweet.

"tsk tsk tsk." he‘s shaking his head with a sigh— as if he was disappointed, and carrying on with his high spirited words.

"a shame, i really thought you would elaborate on that a bit more."

giggling at his own remarks he instantaneously got reminded (by a staff member) to keep it as family friendly as attainable as to not suffer the brutish fate of his manager scolding him afterwards.

the cameras cut and set on a different frame, recording back again.

perhaps it wasn‘t the most brilliant idea to have venti go into this without a single form of preparation— nor a script he could base his answers on.

though beyond anything, he was a natural ar this and managed to engage the viewers with his quite peculiar charms.

"i‘ll leave that for now but i‘m coming back to you later."

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate

[ronearoundblindly]

Time and Tines (2/3)

Reasons (see previous or series)

Steve Rogers x Villain!Reader

Summary: With the Winter Soldier on your side, Steve races against time to figure out why...and how to stop you.

Warnings for basically DARKFIC: talk of unspecified terminal illness, medical malpractice, gaslighting, revenge, gun violence, not overly graphic death but still death (not of Reader, Steve, or Bucky), and decidedly too-little editing. MINORS DNI. There's plenty for you to read on my Light Masterlist, but this isn't for you! WC 5242 (which is, yeah, way longer than it was supposed to be)

Steve will do anything to avoid a fire fight with the Winter Soldier. There are too many people involved now, and he has to approach this situation delicately from all angles.

Steve just does not understand yet.

After hours waiting with agents in the dark of Doctor Avani’s house, convinced you’ve ordered Bucky to come right over and kill the man with brute force, nothing happened. There was no sign of anyone. Steve has to try something else.

A small army protects Salvatore while he searches your apartment. If the key to activating his friend is here, he needs to find it, destroy that information, and get a handle on why this is happening.

“This can’t be right,” Steve mutters, pushing past Agent Palmer (who drove) for a better look. “It’s too clean.”

Your one-bedroom would pass a white-glove test.

There’s so little…everything. It’s a far cry from the chaos Steve woke to find in the police station. His head throbs at the memory. He forgot what it was like to have his bell good’n’rung.

“Supe says she’s been selling off furniture,” Palmer calls from the doorway, “but he thought it was replaced. Boxes kept coming.”

Steve inventories a mattress with no frame, half a dozen hanging garments, no shoes. What were you buying? Where did it all go?

The desktop is bare. You’ve taken any laptop with you, it seems. That’s a small comfort. You clearly planned contingencies for your attack andor escape; it’s fitting you had the foresight to hide your research on the Winter Soldier.

Steve is still scared, however, because he sat with Bucky many times, listening to horrible tales of being trapped in his own mind, powerless, isolated in the midst of everyone, unable to control thoughts much less actions.

This one’s gonna take a few more beers for the friends to contend with, but with any luck and quick work, they’ll get through without bloodshed. He and Bucky will decompress somewhere peaceful. It’ll be okay.

He hopes.

Steve scans the lone bookshelf. The most curious edition is a history book about WWII, a few flagged pages open to reveal passages about Bucky’s service record, an underline beneath the location where the sergeant fell from the train, and a mail receipt for an address on Forsythe Avenue keeping your page. That’s all.

It’s not even a unique read. The book isn’t any more specific than an average school text. No other notes are made in the margins, so Steve turns the book upside-down and shakes, hoping for something to fall out. He rips the other books from the shelf and shuffles their pages until a picture comes loose—a polaroid of three women.

You’re on the right, fuller faced but it’s you. On the back is scrawled “the girls” with hearts on either side.

The book is handwritten, no label on the cover or spine, only an embossed mandala design. Steve’s stomach drops, but he opens to the front flap.

Property of Faith Williams

He swallows roughly and closes it, unable to step over that line of privacy. At the moment, he needs evidence of where you could have taken Bucky, and slow-reading someone else’s diary won’t give him that.

Forsythe Avenue might, but that’s just one tiny piece of the puzzle. 

Steve checks a different unlabeled book, but it, too, doesn’t have your name inside, just a ‘Z’ fancifully drawn amidst doodles.

Damnit. This is no help.

“Palmer, you finding anything?”

“No, Cap. Bills all paid. Nothing under the mattress. No mention of Barnes on any papers in the drawers. Not even a Cyrillic symbol.”

No trace, just like how you two disappeared from surveillance.

Steve shuts his eyes, head still throbbing from how hard the Soldier landed a blow to knock him out.

The agent wanders through the tiny kitchen. “Fridge is empty. Doesn’t look like she intended to come back here…if…actually, it looks like she barely ate. No condiments, no spices, nothing.”

“How long has she rented here?”

“Over two years.”

Shit. This is a dead end.

“Keep looking,” Steve orders, but he takes the two journals and heads for the car, pulling up your thin file again. You don’t hold any clearances or a government footprint. You were let go of from your last job with a severance package. Nothing overly generous. No medical leave mentioned. Benefits, including health insurance, would be intact. Based on your appearance earlier versus you in the photo, Steve chews on a few wisps of theories, but it’s not solid proof. Without more, Steve has no leads.

“Friday, any connection to properties on Forsythe?”

He adjusts to get comfortable in the back seat of the SUV alone, firing up a view screen.

There’s a low, sad sound that means the AI found nothing in your records.

"For her or him?"

Womp womp, it comes again.

Steve lets out a tense breath, “Where are we with bank statements?”

“Authorizations just came back,” F.R.I.D.A.Y chirps.

“What about medical records?”

“That one’s a lot harder, Captain Rogers. We have to—“

“Just analyze the financials first,” Steve sighs. His head throbs again, and he knows he needs sleep. There’s no time though. If he could just get answers…

Protections exist, of course, for good reason, but Steve feels the frustration of any detective. He’s trying to find a bad guy, and by 'bad guy,' he means you, not the man you’ve taken, not the man you are certainly going to order to kill for you.

Steve rests his head on the chilly glass and pinches his eyes shut. He’ll take a minute, review the money trail, and then interview the doctor. It seems a miracle that man was able to go home to his wife and sleep, even with security inside the room, down every hall, surrounding the house…Steve wouldn’t do it; he can’t even keep his eyes closed long enough for the dry sting to subside.

How could he be so stupid?

You weren’t staring at him from across the room; you were watching your mark, waiting for an opening. Sadly, it occurs to Steve that if he’d just let you inject Avani, Bucky would be fine, here by his side, and safe.

You are the threat, not his friend, but that’s a hard distinction. If anyone else sees James Barnes—who is the stealth assassin Winter Soldier, as far as they know—they’ll shoot. No questions. Steve has to find him first. He has to get to you first.

Bucky is compromised, but Steve won’t let it come to that. Buck shouldn't do anything he doesn't want to do just because some enemy hijacked his mind and body.

“Feel better?” You twirl in the chair as soon as the motel bathroom door opens, steam billowing out.

Winter’s face is shadowed, pointed to the floor.

“Or…at least, okay? Here—“ you offer the seat next to you at the tiny table “—sit. Eat. Let me—I’ve got bandages for your knuckles.”

“Heals,” he grunts, sitting easily but with stiff posture, “fast.”

You let out a heavy breath, muttering, “makes one of us.”

The soldier reaches out for the file in front of you, but your hand pins it down.

“Uh-uh. Food first, and palm up here, please.” You wait for him to flip open the takeout container then blot antiseptic on the split skin. “Does that hurt?”

He shakes his head, focused on the meal before him.

Several months ago, an article was published about Bucky Barnes’ affinity for this one particular deli in Brooklyn, a third-generation shop. It listed his usual order.

You’ve made sure the bread isn’t soggy. You kept the spicy mustard on the side.

He makes a strange face, looking around for your portion.

“Not hungry,” you assure him, “I’m rarely hungry.” You secure the bandage like boxing wraps and spin the file around.

“Eat your food—” The command is soft, encouraging. “—while I tell you the story of how we ended up here.”

Buried in the file you’ve put in front of the Soldier is several lifetimes of horror. Maybe not everyone agrees with you, maybe not everyone cares, but that bastard Avani has to atone. For the next hour, you explain what’s expected of him, glancing every so often at the fancier hotel entrance across the street from your motel room.

It’s too early; you’d be very impressed if the Captain had followed those bread crumbs yet.

You planned so carefully for every obstacle. You anticipated so many setbacks. Men like Avani go down like great stone pyramids, not houses of cards, because their lives are built with safeties.  For him to fall, a thousand others have to be damaged, and each one of them will put up a fight to remain untarnished. That approach—the truth, and nothing but the truth—has gotten you nowhere. Diaries aren’t enough proof. The placebo effect is not a crime. Two women are worth far less than a functional, marketable drug.

Plus, they’re two dead women. The pyramid is now their tomb. Nothing ever changes.

No.

You alone cannot topple a pyramid. You’re too far gone. You’re just one person. For justice, you have to go straight to the top, to the man himself. One on one.

Well, one on one-plus-one. Your addition is the sharp-shooter who can get you the top, the target, Doctor Avani.

Winter’s mission is very simple, but he’s thorough, asking all the right questions, thinking of all the right options. You knew he would be perfect.

“Now,” you clap at the end of your story, rubbing boney hands together, “a rundown of my meds. Sound good?” You grab a zippered case from the foot of the motel bed. “Nothing complicated, but here—“ nudging out a syringe and one glass vial “—this is the emergency one. Use 10 milliliters of this if I pass out. Got it?”

The Soldier takes an enormous mouthful of his sandwich and nods, eyes flickering back to that single bed.

You smile sadly. “I…rarely sleep. I’m keeping watch for now. You’re safe. You’ll need the rest.”

He chews and adds more mustard before his last bite.

“Okay? Good.” Your smile fades, fatigue and restlessness swirling in your empty gut as you remove another medication. “Next is this one. Every four hours, twent—wait, no, I’m up to thirty CCs now…”

“Sir,” Steve grits out with far less patience than he intended, pinching the bridge of his nose as if it will stop the throbbing inside his head, “you realize I am trying to save your life?”

Dr. Avani purses his lips in annoyance. “And you realize I am required to keep my patients’ confidence, right?”

Yes, Steve thinks, he’s said that several times.

“Are they current or former patients?” Steve tries to clarify.

So far, Salvatore slipped up only once. When Steve showed him the photo from your apartment, the doctor muttered something about ‘Faith’ and ‘Ziva’ knowing each other, looking confused, then immediately shut down.

Steve has to switch tactics. He doesn’t have time for this.

“Ok. We found over a dozen hotel reservations made with your assailant’s credit card, so look at this list—” Steve taps the smart screen to lay out a map with the names highlighted “—and see if anything stands out.”

“What have this crazy woman’s travel plans to do with me?” Avani bites out, rattling the tea his wife hands him.

A tremor. Not unlike how your hands shook at the table last night. Steve wonders if yours was because you are ill or because you were lying to him.

“Darling, your blood pressure…”

Steve sighs sympathetically to Mrs. Avani. “Thank you, ma’am,” he whispers, taking the next cup and saucer and clearing his throat. “Doc, please. I’m just hoping you can narrow this down for me. We still have no motive.”

“Insanity. Jealousy, maybe!”

“Jealous of what? Do you know what she might want?”

No answer, but Avani chews his cheek, eyes wide, while staring northwest on the map of hotels. Steve files that away in his mind.

The doctor returns to sipping his tea. “Do you know what they call people obsessed with finding patterns in chaos?”

His wife drops the plate of biscuits unceremoniously down on the side table between the men’s chairs.

“Salvatore,” she snips with the same frustrated fatigue wrapped around Steve’s neck like an albatross, “behave.”

“No. None of these are familiar,” the doctor grunts.

Steve can’t accuse the man of lying unless he wants to risk an all-out breakdown in communication during this active threat, but he’s running out of options. He needs real information.

Usually Steve would have more respect for a man staying within the parameters of his vocation, but this is a unique and complicated situation. This is Bucky on the line. Steve’s had enough of secrets and red tape.

“Any idea why she’d mail something to Forsyth Avenue? Do you know anyone there?”

“Forsyth Avenue? No, I’ve never been in that area before, as far as I know.” Though Avani wrings his hands together, no indicates that’s a lie.

Wonderful. Steve’s never been this unsuccessful at gathering intel, and Avani’s status as the newly-appointed Avengers’ lead physician makes it tricky to push harder.

So Steve recommends Avani and his wife consider staying in a more secure location before he sets off to personally check the hotels in the northwest quadrant of the map.

He takes Agent Palmer, riding in the SUV while the two diaries sit in his lap, knowing now—as sure as he can be—that ‘Z’ is for Ziva, and she knew you and Faith Williams. Those are ‘the girls’ in the photo.

Without Ziva’s last name, he can’t do a general search, but there is a death certificate on file for Faith.

Three women. One confirmed dead. At least two ‘former’ patients of the doctor. All visibly ill in either the picture or in person. One mourning the loss of person(s) and out to kill the doctor.

The pit in his stomach grows. Something very bad is happening, yet while Steve has anything else to go on, he will not be reading another’s diary.

He can only hope that your medical records are finally available once the hotel searches are complete.

There’s even a possibility he’ll find Bucky at one of these. Maybe he won’t have to concern himself with the rest at all. Maybe he won’t have to think so hard about your motives for activating a Soviet sleeper agent.

Steve does think, however. He thinks hard enough to spiral as each reception desk is questioned, as all security footage is combed, as every building is cleared. He has to make some assumptions to make the pieces fit.

You believe Avani is responsible for your friends’ deaths—both of them, since when Steve interrogated you, you accepted his condolences—and believe their cause of death was whatever treatment Avani administered.

It’s sad, of course, but it happens everyday. Experimental treatments are just that. If you’re concerned about gross negligence, the doctor could easily be reported to the Medical Board. Considering the amount of research, forethought, and planning required, the Winter Soldier is one of the slowest possible solutions to your problem.

But…Bucky was just your contingency plan. You had an opportunity to kill Avani yourself, yet you still set other options in motion. You used a weapon theoretically deadly to only the doctor 

Steve still can’t understand, and it’s driving him nuts.

Finally, after the hotel reservations prove fruitless, Steve sees no other choice. He has to read the diaries.

He combs through the pages, growing nauseous as darker and darker layers of the situation reveal themselves, disturbed by everydetail except updates from the units on Forsyth Avenue or those stationed at the doctor’s house. Nothing is unfolding save the landscape in Steve’s mind.

He asks F.R.I.D.A.Y about the disease Faith and Ziva mention. He asks about the public records of the drug trial Avani lead and its results published just six months ago, after the last entries of the diaries. He notices the treatment was a huge success…for those not in the control group. Finally, he can’t continue.

His head pounds while his stomach churns.

In the early afternoon, Steve lays down to rest his eyes and reevaluate, but he’s met with only a blank  canvas and drifts to sleep instead.

He’s woken by a shrill ring of his phone.

“Yeah, Palmer, what’s—what? What do you mean he’s gone?” Steve jumps up, straps on his shield, and races to his bike. “The hell were you thinking letting him make a house call today? Where did agents—“

Steve’s foot slips right off bike for an instant.

“Avani led the driver to some suburban neighborhood. Forsythia Commons.”

It dawns of him just as the garage door squeals open.

Steve never showed Palmer the receipt. No one else saw the numbers to the address. Steve’s rattled brain finished the label with a street name he knew.

He was wrong.

Including battles in Germany way back in the day, he has rarely driven so recklessly, but Steve is nearly a half-hour behind now. He has to catch up.

Palmer tells him Avani went into the residence alone—for patient confidentiality—and after a while, agents couldn’t get an answer at the door. Upon forced entry, they found the woman who lived there bound to a chair with tape over her mouth and the doctor nowhere in sight.

Steve gets lucky.

On his way to exit the freeway, he notices a hole in the noise barrier wall past a slope of grass. He pulls over and asks Palmer what the backyard of the residence leads to, but Steve can hear the reverb of agent comms before anyone is visible through the brush.

“Friday, I need traffic camera footage from my location from thirty-five minutes ago. Were there any vehicles stopped on the side of the road?”

“Yes, Captain Rogers. A standard maintenance truck with the department’s logo shows up and leaves seven minutes later, based on ten second intervals.”

“The license plate, can you read it?”

“Quality insufficient.”

“The highway department, do they have any registered cars out here today?”

A long pause follows.

“Friday?” Steve barks.

“Negative, Captain. Inspection is slotted for the end of next week, not today.”

“Alright, follow that truck on the cameras. Tell me exactly where they went.”

He doesn’t bother to tell Palmer where he’s going because Steve doesn’t want them to know really. He needs a head start to find Bucky—to make sure it’s Bucky who is found and rescued, not the Soldier who is cornered and subdued.

The trail ends at a dilapidated office park near the river miles outside of the city. With his own, short fingernail, Steve peels away the Highway Department magnet slapped onto the white truck parked by one building.

Nobody else is in sight, and the truck cab is empty.

Across the nearest door is sun-shriveled lettering. “-alv—re Ava—, M.D” marks the third name in a list.

Steve doesn’t hesitate. He can’t. He walks right in, eyes adjusting to a cave-like darkness without electricity.

The voices are faint behind another set of double doors, but he hears them.

“I don’t owe you anything, bitch. I hope you die like they did.”

There’s a sharp slapping noise and someone spits loudly.

“Admit it. Admit what you did and you won’t die today.”

You don’t beg him to talk. You don’t plead with him. You sound weak but sure.

“Rot in hell,” Avani annunciates, and Steve flings himself through the doors, knowing what comes after such a taunt.

You give him every opportunity to come clean. He could save himself, but Avani refuses while the camera records behind you. He calls you names. He calls your friends worthless. He says they were ’whores,’ but you will still send him back to the correct authorities if he tells the truth.

He doesn’t, he won’t, and you’re honestly pleased this is how it ends.

You don’t have a choice really; you must honor Faith and Ziva somehow.

Instead of the truth, Avani curses you, though not much could be worse than your current fate, even with Winter standing a few feet away, his gun drawn.

You have readied the syringe in your unstable hand and lift it to the doctor’s throat when—crash—Captain America bursts in and scans the whole room.

“Don’t do it,” he tries plainly. “You don’t have to kill him.”

You’re impressed. That’s faster than you expected, but Steve is looking at his friend to stop, not you.

“Shoot him, you idiot,” the doctor snarls.

As if Winter thinks the order somehow applied to him, he turns toward an open palm and a raised shield.

“SHOOT HIM!”

Winter doesn’t move the gun away from you and Avani.

Steve steps closer. “Bucky,” he starts slowly, “I’m not going to do that. I’m not here to hurt you. No one has to die.”

You need to buy more time.

“Soldat, show him.”

Only then does Winter lower his pistol and reach into a pocket at his chest, revealing the tuning fork that controls his own mind. Doing this will forfeit your exit strategy, but you’ll accomplish you mission. Winter’s mission is now secondary.

Steve’s eyes flicker from the fork to you.

After a tense breath, you give the command, confident the soldier will obey, locking your focus on Steve.

“Fetch.”

Winter sprints to the other end of the room and explodes through a wall and then a window to the lawn banking the river.

Cap makes a choice, his sad blue eyes full of pity, and it’s then you realize he knows.

He read the diaries. He understands what Avani did.

Steve bolts after the Soldier.

The doctor shrieks for his Avenger to come back, to protect him from his earned fate, but the hollow thuds of a vibranium arm and a vibranium shield colliding hum through the hole in the building.

The sound of fighting continues as you return the syringe to Avani’s neck.

Enough. Enough excuses. Enough lies. Enough time has been wasted on this man already. Enough is enough.

The end is more peaceful than he deserves. It’s quick and not nearly as painful as it should be. There’s no time left for suffering.

Salvatore convulses after collapsing on the stained industrial carpet, foam gently dripping from his mouth, a symptom of his condition when mixed with a common resuscitative cocktail, one you have to take frequently, one that spiked Steve Rogers’ adrenaline and nothing more. It kills Avani. His heart nearly explodes in his chest.

If there was ever a human that medicine should fail…

You only know he’s susceptible because Ziva knew. Heart conditions and caring for them are the sort of thing one knows about a person they love.

Avani promised to marry her, to leave his wife, to be with her after the drug trial succeeded. He promised she’d live, but he told Ziva she was taking the real medicine, ensured she took the placebo, and then gaslit her until the day she died.

Ziva spent the rest of her life loving a man who would make her happy and healthy, but instead, Avani made her life as short as possible.

He was not even that kind to Faith.

In her own words, Faith wrote how dying scared her, how she begged the doctor for the actual medication, how she offered anything to get it. Avani accepted. Faith did whatever that bastard wanted for months, all the while told she was healing.

Relief never came.

Faith was bedridden when a package arrived for her—a diary willed to her by a friend she’d lost touch with once you three weren’t gathering in the same hospital suite for the old treatments. That’s when she put it together, but Ziva had passed two months prior. Faith lasted only four more days, just long enough to bequeath the two journals to you.

The victory doesn’t feel as euphoric as you expected. You thought somehow you’d know that Ziva and Faith were proud and at peace, but you’re just empty and tired.

You stare down at Adani’s body, unfazed, when the tuning fork slams against a dangling metal doorframe and Cap shuffles through the rubble.

He’s scraped and beaten which isn’t what you ever wanted, just a necessary evil to fight evil. He watches as Barnes walks in from the grass.

“It’s me, punk. You can put that thing down.”

Bucky doesn’t wait for Steve, snatching the prongs right from his hands and tucking it back in his jacket.

There’s a moment where they almost hug before Steve remembers the doctor and rushes to the man at your feet.

“Call for help! I'm starting CPR.”

Barnes simply holds your gaze.

More sad blue eyes. It brings you hope that he will complete his mission.

You step away from the others to make for a cleaner shot, nodding that it’s okay, breathing a rough but weak “please” for emphasis.

“Buck?” Steve looks up as Bucky points his gun at you again. “What are you doing? STOP. It’s over!”

“His mission was never to kill Avani,” you hiss, unable to take your eyes off the perfectly-centered muzzle directly in front of you. “He’s here to kill me.”

“The hell—“ Steve climbs to his feet “—why would you shoot her?”

“I’m not going to jail!”

“You know what they’ll do to her, Steve.”

Both men take one step closer.

“There has to be another way.”

“I did this because it’s the only—“

“—can understand doctors who taking advantage and manipulating their patients better than anyone—“

“Put the gun down!”

“Pull the trigger! It'll be—“

“—told me he could do better than me,” Bucky barks. “Doc said, to my face, that he could make a better me. He wanted to make soldiers, Steve. More soldiers. Avani didn’t give a shit about what was right.”

You jump in. “If you found the diaries, you know what he was capable of.”

“That’s not how this works. We don’t condemn a man from—“

This time you step toward Barnes. “Just do it. Shoot me now.”

Steve lunges to take your wrist in his hand, your limb comically thin and delicate beneath all his enhancements.

“She doesn’t deserve to rot while they sweep this under the rug,” Bucky adds, voice low and serious.

“This is for the best.” You look at Steve now, and something heartbreaking swims in those morose pools, something unspeakable.

His head shakes, dirty, sweaty hair falling in his face. “What if there’s another way?”

“I don’t want to be saved, Cap. Let me go.”

You offer one final, soft smile, and Steve moves just as Bucky pulls the trigger.

Steve completes his testimony before the panel opposite him. None of the questions are a surprise.

They’ve painted you as completely insane, demented, psychotic, and he can’t argue. What would he tell them? Yeah, but she had kind eyes, so, you know, remember her fondly? No, he can only remain quiet until he has something pertinent to add which is very little. Bucky had far more to offer, and he already spoke.

When Steve steps out of the counsel chambers, Maria Hill is waiting for him.

“Shame she ordered the Soldier to dispose of her body. Took the coward’s way out.”

“You make her sound like a rabid animal that had to be put down,” Steve grit out. 

“No, you’re right,” Hill admits, “but it was lucky she left the sound thing for—”

“Tuning fork,” he snaps, “which I destroyed. No one should have that. No one should even know about it.”

Buck does his best to calm Steve down with a heavy hand on his shoulder. “S’okay, pal. The interrogation footage has been wiped and unless someone with perfect pitch was walking by observation--”

“You know that’s not reassuring, right?”

The two huge men look at each other.

Steve finally mutters, “what about Avani’s widow?”

“All the blackmail sent to his mistress in Forsythia Commons was removed before Gloria even knew Sal was kidnapped, and I think it’s fair to say that lady is so grateful her name wasn’t dragged through the press that she won’t be bothering the wife. Good thing the doctor put her car and house in her name, or legally, this would get ugly.”

“Yes. We’re very lucky he was such a skilled adulterer,” Steve quips dryly. He regrets handing over the diaries for evidence. They weren’t mentioned once in any of the hearings.

Bucky flashes Steve a warning glare that reads, don’t start.

Hill obliviously flips through the folder in her hands, nodding. “All in all, this report amounts to an incredibly long lead-in of ‘use that PTO, boys!’ You earned it.”

“Understatement of the century…and I would know.” Bucky is a much better liar than Steve.

Thank god, they are fleeing to the middle of nowhere indefinitely.

Hill heads back to her office. “We’ll be here when you get back. Keep in touch.”

“No,” Steve counters. “I don’t think I will.”

Bucky and Steve leave in an old truck the next morning. They can’t seem rushed or impatient to get to their destination.

Casually accumulating supplies, Steve loads their bags in the flat bed with space for all repair materials they are likely to need. The cabin needs some work; the guys need to get their hands dirty and live simply for a while.

The team is happy for Steve; it’s been so long since anyone saw him moving forward in life, and, of course, he and Bucky deserve some peace and quiet.

No one else has any idea how hard-won this vacation is.

The drive takes all day because they can’t be in a hurry.

Steve takes pictures at every scenic outlook. Bucky climbs up onto some rock ledges to take selfies which Steve is not into. This earns him being featured as a blurry grump in the background of all of them, purposefully.

Eventually, the GPS-free truck pulls up to the place, a large A-frame style cabin that should be plenty big for two super soldiers.

Parked on the gravel path, Steve is careful not to ding the other car when he swings open his door. As Bucky heaves two duffels from the trunk, he calls out, “got the meds, too” and heads inside. Steve gathers up the remaining bags and trudges over, smelling something hearty and delicious cooking, listening to the tinkling, copper-coin wind chime hanging somewhere above him.

He doesn’t stop looking at his feet until they hit the top of the porch, spotting two smaller bare feet on the welcome mat.

There you are, holding the door open, layered in warm knits, more tired before but better than expected.

“Hey,” Steve breathes finally.

“Hey,” you say, your mouth twisted to hide an excited smile.

“Yes, hello,” Bucky grumbles from the living room. “Now shut the damn door. I’m hungry.”

Steve steps inside.

[Last Part]

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

a/n: Sorry this took so long a fucking year! Tags will be in a reblog.

[anki-of-beleriand]

Bad Liar ch. 17

Summary: Life is about lessons, and Wanda has been learning some harsh facts that had define her life and taken her to a place in which she was given a second chance. Then, all of a sudden, she meets you, and she realizes why it's easier to lie to yourself than to accpet what's right in front of her.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff/ Female!reader - America/Kate - Mentions of past Vision/Wanda - past Natasha/Reader - Some Female!Reader/Carol Danvers - Mentions of Natasha/Maria being married

Warnings: Slow burn - Enemies to friends to lovers - Mentions of abusive relationships - Toxic relationships - angst - drama - mentions of abuse - violence - mentios of abused and sexual assault - idiots in love - violence - suggestive themes - drama - angst - fluff - top!reader - dom!reader - bottom!Wanda - switch!Wanda

Author's note: Life is settling down after what happened, America is growing up and ready to face the consequences of what happened. Wanda is letting go of the past while Reader is just being her showing Wanda happiness and love it is possible.

So sorry for the late posting, guys. Life was a little harder this week that what I was used to, and something happened that really got me anxious and a little bit...I mean, I was not in a good place, but hopefully everything is better now and here is the new chapter! Just one chapter to go and this story would be over. I hope you like it because I made it with my heart!

Please rmemeber English is not my mother tongue so forgive my grammar, spelling and funny mistakes, hope you like this one.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Chapter 18

Chapter 17

The promise of the future

You never thought that going back home would be so difficult for you or even America. The place had been tied up and changed after the incident, with different furniture and painting you had allowed America free reign on her imagination to make the necessary changes into the living room.

The world had not stopped turning around, the news was still rolling on the TV and people were enjoying the weekend of the new year. You stood by your sister's side with a hand on her shoulder, America tensed lowering her gaze furrowing her brows before turning to you.

“What do you want to do?” Her question came with a trembling voice, she sighed, shaking her head while looking away from you.

You turned to look at Wanda's place then back at yours.

“I was thinking about vacations.” You hugged America, winking at her, “we could ask Tony about the cottage he had in Italy.”

America offered a shaky smile, “Italy?”

“Yeah, we could get away from this place for a while and then…get a new house.”

America chuckled, stepping away from you. You waited, ever since the both of you left the hospital America had tried to evade the topic of what had happened while she was under the claws of Agatha and Vision. The young woman scratched the back of her neck, with her eyes sweeping around the front yard. Her teeth playing with her lower lip, her feet taking slow steps towards the front door only to stop midway before turning to you.

“You don’t have to.” She finally said frowning, “it was difficult but not the end of the world, I…Hope offered her help, and I acceded to see a friend of hers that could be of help.”

You nodded curtly taking a few steps closer to her, “you know that even though we grew here we are allowed to leave, right?”

America snorted hugging you tightly, she knew it. She knew you would do everything in your power to make sure she was comfortable and that whatever traumatic event she had gone through could be healed and forgotten. Selling the house and even offering a vacation was your way to make things easier for her, but America had already talked this through with Christine and Hope. She had been scared, but more than that, she had felt powerless to help Kate, to help the twins and even to help Wanda.

“I know that, and perhaps in the future when I go to college you can think about it.” She replied shrugging, “I know you’re dying to get that Villa near Tony’s place, because you had always wanted a huge house with a pool and a bigger playroom.”

Your eyes glistened over with your lips curling into a content smile at the mental image these words evoke in you. America rolled her eyes, but she too could imagine the same; it was something she wouldn’t say no to when the both of you were ready, not because a bad experience marked their lives and they were doing it because of that. She had felt powerless to help the people she loved, but America would be damned if she allowed that man and that freaking woman to govern her decisions from now on.

“I want you to be comfortable, and happy.”

“I know, Y/N, and I am.” America nodded towards the house before pointing a finger at you, “come we need to get everything ready before we pick Wanda and the twins up.”

You watched as your sister went inside the house with the same determination she did everything else. Hope had already told you of the conversation the both of them held while you were unconscious, America had been angered by the whole situation and it took her a while to understand that there was no one else to blame but Vision and Agatha.

Kate had been the one to convince America to go to therapy for a while, just to perhaps let go of the growing fear and darkness the situation itself had created in both of them. You were thankful that America had always surrounded of good friends, and that you had always had someone by your side as well. Everyone seemed understanding, and while the situation was still fresh in your minds, you knew you would be okay.

“Come on, slowpoke!!” America screamed from inside the house, you rolled your eyes and followed her thinking about what would happen once Wanda was out of the hospital.

_____________________________

Wanda glanced at her reflection with a critical eye.

She scowled openly to the bruises around her neck and face, the paleness of her skin and the tiredness behind her eyes. She had spent the first weekend of the year in the hospital, waiting for the doctors to clear her up and sent her home while you and America took care of the twins while coming every day to visit her.

It had been hard.

While you had offered her the best end of the year and had been keeping your word of being by her side. Wanda couldn’t help the nightmares at night, when she was alone with her thoughts and the shadows of the past trying to crawl back inside her heart and mind. She placed a hand on her chest, holding tightly the sudden oppression threatening to cut of the air from her lungs. She clenched her jaw refusing the tears in her eyes, or the thoughts of fear that had creeped out once more. She had tried to hold onto what Hope had been teaching her in the therapy sessions, while also holding onto the bright side of her life.

Billy. Tommy. You. America and her students.

Wanda let out a shaky sigh before turning around and leaving the bathroom, you straightened up offering a half smile while holding up the bag with Wanda’s clothes.

“I put everything away, ready to do laundry duty as soon as we get home.” You walked towards her giving her a once over wiggling your brows, “you look nice.”

Wanda rolled her eyes, her lips curling slightly.

“You’re such a sweet talker,” she leaned in kissing your cheek, “it will get you everywhere.”

You blushed with your mouth hanging opened at the cheeky wink Wanda sent your way stepping out of the room, you snorted running to catch up to her.

The ride home was filled with music; Wanda kept her eyes out of the window watching the world pass rapidly through the window while you drove down the highway before taking the long way home. You caught the small smile adorning Wanda’s lips when you made the right turn, she sighed leaning back against the seat letting her eyes drink into the trees and the forest surrounding the road while watching the blue sky right above her head.

Wanda knew she needed to get home, Billy and Tommy were waiting for her. And life had to keep going, but something inside her stirred with fear and memory. She tried to keep away the words Vision had said to her, the feeling of his breath and hand on her, everything that the man had imprinted on her. Wanda clenched her eyes closed trying to erase those memories while replacing them with the beautiful sight in front of her, and the songs playing on the radio.

You creased your brows noticing the sudden change in Wanda, your eyes glanced at the road lighting up when you caught side of the road sign you usually dismissed when driving down that highway. You looked through the mirror before turning left, Wanda frowned turning to you slightly confused.

“Where are we going?” She asked softly, you smiled at her driving just a little faster until there was only one single road taking you deeper into a forestry area.

“You will see.”

Wanda opened her mouth to reply, her heart almost leaving her chest when she realised you made a turn she was not familiar with. For a brief moment she thought how foolish she had been. As long as she was with you everything would be fine, but the memories were not so easy to dismiss and she decided that at the moment she needed the comfort your warm stare usually brought to her.

The driving didn’t take far too long, soon you were turning left then right and then another right until you drove into an open space leading to a great cliff. Wanda opened her eyes glancing at the open sky with growing clouds approaching the city, she leaned forward until she saw the sight of the big city down into the valley. You stopped the car turning off the engine while resting comfortably on the seat, your lips drawing a small smile.

“Is this the place you used to bring your girlfriends?” Wanda asked at your side, you couldn’t help but laugh shaking your head.

“No, I never brought anyone here.” You confessed shrugging, “this was my little secret, I used to come here to think from time to time. Just me, it was comforting. I thought you may appreciate it.”

There was something stirring with deep affection in Wanda’s heart, the young woman snuggled on the car seat this time around turning completely so she could face you while still have her eyes take into the amazing view spreading before them.

“I don't know how to continue,” she all but whispered to you, her eyes glistening with the deepest of her emotions flickering in her green eyes, “I keep on thinking of my mistakes, the secrets I kept…I should have told you the dangers he posed to me and you.”

Silence filled the car, your eyes never leaving the sky above your heads. You pressed your lips together, your hands resting on the wheel, playing a soft tapping with your mind working on what to say. Wanda closed her eyes, looking away from you the afternoon falling slowly with the tension building up around the both of you.

“One day at a time, Wands, there is nothing much we can do.” You shrugged, lowering your head, still looking everywhere but at Wanda, “I didn't expect you to tell me everything right away, but I suspected as much. This was not your fault, Wanda. And this doesn't mean I love you any less.”

The word love rolled out of your tongue with such an easiness, Wanda couldn’t help but gasp with her eyes opening wide and her lower lip trembling slightly. You snorted shaking your head while leaning in your face just a few centimetres away from hers.

“You’re not used to hearing such words, are you?”

“No.”

Wanda leaned closer, her eyes fluttering close for a moment before she allowed your eyes to lock with hers. You lifted a tentative hand to cup her face, tenderness was quite evident in your features and Wanda allowed the warmth of your body to bring a soothing calmness she was not familiar with.

“I love you, Wanda.” You whispered only for her to engrave those words in her heart, “perhaps it is too soon, but for some reason, I just love you. I feel in love with you, and I don’t think there is nothing I can do against my feelings for you but make sure you feel loved, the way you deserved to be loved.”

Wanda swallowed down her words and tears, she offered a tentative smile before closing the gap between the both of you her lips dancing shyly with yours. Her heart beating fast, almost escaping her ribcage while she melted under your hands; you didn’t need to say anything else for her to know you certainly did love her. And she knew soon she would be ready to say those same words to you.

“It will take time, but you will heal.” You winked at her, your fingertips brushing against her cheek and jawline until your brows creased finding the marks on her neck.

“Some marks take time to…fade away.” Wanda mumbled slightly mortified by her wounds, she tried to lean back and hide away from you until her breath caught on her throat with her eyes growing big and her body tensing completely.

She felt the contact of your forehead against hers, the gesture was comforting and it made her experience an emotion she was not completely familiar with. Wanda’s heart fluttered affectionately surrendering to your gaze. She opened her lips ready to speak, but her words got tangled in her throat leaving her unable to express what she really wanted. What she really felt.

It didn't matter, though.

You were still there offering the same reassuring smile, and the same comforting touch. Wanda had to wonder how you did it, how was it possible for you to offer so much without asking for anything in exchange.

“We never got to have the date I planned.” Wanda said all of a sudden, you leaned back with amusement gleaming in your eyes.

“That's right,” you cocked your head wiggling your eyebrows, “and I got curious about it, what did you have planned?”

Wanda dipped her head with her lips curling into a tender smile, she straightened up on the seat glancing outside the window. 

“It's a secret, I guess I just have to plan it all over again so we can go.” Wanda sighed, still looking away from you. “Of course, if you want to…I mean, if you still want to go out. With me.”

The last part was said in a broken whisper, Wanda shifted on the seat creasing her brows while making sure her eyes were glancing at the city. The light of the day was soon fading away, and the city was starting to light up the artificial lights. 

“I would love nothing more than to go out with you, Wanda.” You replied with a tender smile on your lips, Wanda shivered trying to smile at you but failing.

The old insecurities were still there and you knew the work Wanda had done in the last couple of months had been shaken but the recent events. You could see her self-doubt, her uncertainty and the lost stare she gained after leaving the hospital. The bruises were pretty much visible at the moment, the pain was still pulsating through her body and Wanda was just trying to hold onto her sanity and her own determination to not fall into desperation. 

You lifted a hand slowly, your eyes seeking out those green eyes of Wanda. After a moment of hesitation, Wanda finally lifted her face looking at you expectantly. Her eyes flickered to your hand, then to your face.

“I was thinking…” Wanda winced, her throat sore and dried bringing discomfort to her voice.

You let your arm lifted for a moment before dropping it to the side to grab the bottle of water you brought early in the day.

“Thank you.” She mumbled almost dropping the bottle of water when you tenderly brush the spot on her neck. 

Her breath caught on her throat, trembling lightly with a mixture of emotions tingling through her body. Her face heated up, following with your eyes the movements of your arms and your own expression while mapping out the dark bruises on her neck. 

“Y/N…” your name left her lips tenderly, with some uncertainty that called your attention.

You frowned, stopping any movement from your hand, your eyes flickering from the bruises to her face.

“I'm sorry, did it bother you? I just…”

“No, no it's just…”

You broke into an easy smile that Wanda returned without losing her blush. She bit her lower lip, without any doubt behind her gestures she grabbed your hand placing it on the left side of her neck. 

“You surprised me, that's all.” Wanda sighed looking away for a moment before continuing. “I'm not used to such tenderness.”

You tensed lightly, your eyes flashing with anger before they softened lightly. Wanda offered a crooked smile, this time around she let go of your hand embracing herself.

“With you, everything is…different and sometimes I just can't believe this is happening.”

“May I try something out?” You asked suddenly, Wanda narrowed her eyes at the sudden flush showing on our face. Your fingertips trembled, with your lips pressed together while your eyes travelled from her face to her neck then back again.

“What are you going to do?” Wanda couldn't help the tone of wariness and curiosity; she tilted her head and your eyes gleamed strangely falling on her neck.

“Just something to show you how you should be treated, how you should be cherished.”

It was the husky tone behind your words what made Wanda tremble, she swallowed down her trepidation with a tingling void taking home in her abdomen. 

You waited patiently, your fingertips never leaving the soft skin of Wanda's neck. For a moment, Wanda just thought of her possibilities, of what exactly you were planning. Then her eyes went to your own bruises, to the wound on your hand and arm and she softened lightly. If there was anyone she trusted more than herself, that was you.

“Okay, you…you can try it, would I…I mean, is it dangerous?” 

You snickered, shaking your head, this time around there was a glint of mischief in your eyes. Wanda felt her stomach do a flip, and soon she let out a gasp while her hands clenched into a fist with her eyes fluttering close to the sensations you were creating with your mouth.

She never imagined you would lean in to place your lips on her pulse point, nor that you would start leaving open-mouthed kisses that went to draw the marks left on her neck. Wanda was not sure what to do with her hands, her body went rigid but her lower stomach and her heart were tingling over with an emotion she was not familiar with. 

You let your lips mapped out her skin, brushing lightly while letting your free hand cup her face tenderly. You wished to let Wanda know she was loved that not all touches directed at her were meant to harm or to mark, that she deserved the tenderness you were trying to show. 

You didn’t know what got into you, the only thing you knew for certain was that Wanda needed love, she needed to understand how wonderful she was. How she deserved happiness, and that no number of wounds or injuries from her past should get in the way of her new life. And thus, without any thoughts in your mind you leaned in to kiss away her neck your lips dancing tentatively on the bruised skin.

Wanda trembled under your touch, she let her hands wrapped around your arms her lips parting slightly while her body ignited with a fire she was no familiar with. Just as you started you finished it, leaning back with your heart hammering against your chest, your cheeks flustered and a timid smile adorning your lips.

Wanda was not in a better state, she was trembling with her face completely red and her breathing erratic. She could not hide her lust, nor the complete affection those green eyes shot at you as soon as she opened them.

You opened your mouth to speak, but whatever you were going to say was cut short by Wanda kissing you harshly. You welcomed her in your arms, allowing the passion she was trying to contain while kissing her back with the same need she was showing.

The afternoon finally gave way to the night, and while you allowed Wanda the control of the kiss you could feel her tears wetting your face. Until she could not continue and allowed herself the relief of your arms, unable to say what she had been trying to tell you for a very long time.

I love you.

______________

Wanda held onto the blanket, her eyes dancing around her room while the silver light of the moon sneaked into the room. 

The nightmare was still fresh in her mind, the shadows of the past haunting her in her sleep. Wanda let out a sigh putting the blankets away before sitting up, she was no longer tired and sleep was not an option, her eyes fell on her mobile showing the hour.

4 a.m.

The silence of the early hours of the day was deafening to her ears, Wanda turned around and decided a trip to the kitchen was a good idea. She put on some sweatpants, a hoodie and left her room with the memory of her nightmare dancing around in her mind.

The morning came with light snowing, the new year had come and gone bringing with it a world of possibilities Wanda never thought possible before. She grabbed the mug tightly around her hands, her eyes watching the snowflakes fall on her backyard. 

Wanda blew some steam out of her mug, her mind soon bringing over the memories of the day before. Your words, your smile, your touches; last day she had experienced a deep affection and protectiveness she had never felt before. The passion you had ignited in her with your kisses and your tenderness had made her soul tremble with want, but she had not dared to move forward and confessed what you had done so freely.

I love you. I'm in love with you.

Wanda couldn't help the smile breaking at the memory, without a single doubt she felt the veracity of those words whenever she was close to you. Whenever you went with her, or helped her children, or you simply were yourself. 

The young woman wished she could say it back to you, that she wasn't so afraid to be open and confessed the love she was feeling for you. Wanda wished things were easier, but she was still afraid. She had failed not only once, but twice and now that she was freed of her past, she was afraid of messing up a third time.

“You couldn't sleep either?” America crossed her arms putting the heavy coat closer to her body, she glanced at Wanda from her yard not really sure if her presence would be welcomed by the older woman.

Wanda glanced at America with eyes wide open, she tilted her head shrugging lightly.

“Not really.” Wanda all but replied with an effort, she hesitated for a moment before adding, “I have a nightmare.”

America made a face nodding, “yeah, me too.”

Wanda could see the indecision in America's face, she lifted her mug before patting the spot beside her. America tilted her head and for that moment Wanda could see the same gesture you did when you were weighing your options. The young woman turned to her house before stepping closer and moving past the side door to Wanda's yard. 

The snow kept on falling, America sat down furrowing her brows while watching at the sky. She could feel the eyes of Wanda on her, and the memory of her harsh words resounded in her mind. Before going to you, America had made sure to share her thoughts with the redhead, she made sure to let Wanda know America was not happy with what had happened. 

“I'm sorry.” America finally said huffing while turning to the shocked woman. 

America shifted on the spot furrowing her brows.

“Back in the hospital I just…I was stressed out, and finding out about this man and my sister, I was…”

“I know, I understand.” Wanda replied, placing a tentative hand on top of America's one. “You don't have to apologise.”

America shook her head frowning deeply, “but I do! Look I was unfair, when I was trapped in my house and then when I got to the hospital, I was partially blaming you for everything.”

Wanda winced ready to speak but America was firm on her explanation. She put her hand on top of Wanda's making sure to be as open as she could with her expressions.

“Y/N is the only family I have left, and I love her dearly. She has sacrificed so much for me, I just couldn't bear the thought of her suffering or losing her in any way.” America huffed, shaking her head with her eyes taking in the visible wounds on the woman before her.

“I never thought how much you and Billy and Tommy suffered all this time.” America confessed; Wanda tensed not wanting to interrupt America in the middle of her rant. “And after I got to see him, and everything I heard afterwards. I was not fair to you, I'm sorry I screamed at you and…that I was mad for something you couldn't control.”

Wanda shook her head offering a tiny smile to the young woman sitting beside her.

“There is nothing to be sorry for, America, I understand why you did it and I never hold it against you.” Wanda huffed, turning to see the snow fall, “I'm also sorry you and Kate had to live that, I wish things had been different. That he…”

America nodded curtly, and Wanda just shrugged.

“I guess right now he is where he must be, and he won't be hurting me or my children or even you and your sister anytime soon.” Wanda took a long sip from her tea, she glanced at the clear beverage before offering some to America.

The young woman grabbed the mug in her hands, she placed her elbows on her knees shivering lightly while glancing at the frozen ground.

“You really make my sister happy; you know?” She whispered pursing her lips a little.

“She makes me happy, and sometimes I just think I don’t deserve it.” Wanda cleared her throat wincing lightly when the old pain came bothering her again, “I never got to take her out, you know?”

“I know, I bet she would have loved the date you planned out for her.”

“You think so?” Wanda inquired with a hint of doubt in her voice, America nodded enthusiastically her lips curling lightly.

“You guys should really try it this time around, I mean now that everything is back to…” America was about to say normal, but the truth was nothing was normal anymore. Things were different, but they didn’t feel normal.

Wanda leaned back with hint of determination gleaming in her green eyes, she smiled lightly nodding to herself.

“Then, you should help me out.” Wanda turned to America who had her brows raised and eyes slightly opened. “I mean, I will have to plan it all over again, but this time around I want it to be perfect for her, I want to…”

Wanda didn’t finish her thought, but for America there was no need to. America could see the affection there as well as the will to offer you a perfect date. Silence fell between the both of them, no more words were needed it and America could see how little by little her family had grown in such a small amount of time.

She wished upon the falling snow for everything to finally fall into place and happiness to be possible again.

This time around, she also wished for Wanda, Tommy and Billy to be part of that happiness and to allow you and her to be part of that family.

_______________________________

Time passed slowly with the recovery of the wounds and the unstoppable meetings with Hope.

Wanda realized the nightmares were back, and she had to face the ghost of her past and her present while finally speaking about what had happened during those hours in which Vision had come back to her life. Hope was always patient, telling the young woman that the progressed she had made was still there but that the current fear and uncertainty she was feeling was just natural and in a matter of time she would let go and move on.

Wanda wished it was easier, and faster.

As of late being closer to you had been easier yet allowing you a single touch was difficult to experience. A part of her, the one that sound eery familiar, told her she didn’t deserve your affection much less the tenderness behind your touch. Wanda was afraid that her insecurities would finally push you away and she would be like at the beginning, alone.

“You have to be patience as well, Wanda,” Hope tilted her head smiling softly at her, “Y/N would never get tired of showing you her affection, and she knows and understands what you and your children are going through. You have told me of the conversations you both held regarding this situation.”

“Yes, but I just…” Wanda passed a hand through her hair, she turned to the window watching as the cold sun of winter sneaked through the clouds, “I’m just afraid she will get tired eventually, that I won’t be able to change this.”

Here she pointed to her chest, clenching her fist while growling lowly. Hope observed the young woman for a very long time, this was not a new discussion and in the last two weeks had been the main topic around their sessions.

“How is going with the planning of the date? Have you gotten what you need?” Hope asked trying to divert the topic to something that would ignite the flames of hopefulness in Wanda.

Wanda stopped her frustration giving way to a tender smile, her eyes softened nodding lightly.

“Yes, actually this time around I got America and her friends helping me out with the planning,” Wanda chuckled taking a seat, “they really are good teens, and I just need to pay the last part and I will be able to finally get her to the date I promise.”

“She will love it, you know that, right?”

“You think so?” Wanda pursed her lips resting her chin on her hand, “America told me she really loved this, and I just…God, she had been so good to me and my children, and I just…”

Hope waited for Wanda to continue but the other woman merely trailed off shrugging. Wanda wanted to be perfect for you, she wanted to make sure that what she was doing for you was enough to let you see how much she loved you. Wanda wanted to make sure that she was the right person for you, that in this new adventure she was enough.

“You are enough.” Hope commented offhandedly, ignoring the stare coming from Wanda, “but you need to start believing it yourself and giving yourself the chance to experience this.”

“I know.” She mumbled letting her hand rubbed her neck, “I’m really trying, you know? I don’t want this to consume the time I could spend with my children, with Y/N and with my new friends.”

Hope shrugged offering a comforting smile, “we have seen your efforts, Wanda. Don’t sell yourself short because this is not moving at the speed you want it, be patient and persistent. That’s the secret.”

Wanda sighed breaking into an easy smile when her eyes fell on her mobile and a new message appeared on the screen. Hope chuckled recognizing the name, and her eyes went to the clock on the wall. Right on time.

“I guess this is it for today, isn’t it?” Hope said chuckling when Wanda nodded putting the mobile away.

“I don’t know how to thank you for your help.” Wanda stood up waiting until Hope got to her to wrap her into a comforting hug.

“Nonsense. At the end of the day, Wanda, you are my friend as well and the important thing is for you to be and to feel safe.” Hope winked at her nodding to the door. “Now go, I bet they are waiting for you.”

Wanda nodded turning around and leaving the practice. Hope shook her head making her way towards the window where she could see you were standing right on the sidewalk with Tommy and Billy by your side grinning widely holding some posters on their hands. Wanda put a hand on her mouth, laughing before hugging her children while leaning into your embrace as well. Hope smiled tenderly watching the scene with fondness, you really were pretty much in love with the woman and your every action was to ensure her happiness.

Time was all you and her needed. Of that, Hope was completely sure.

The cold of winter came crashing against Wanda, but whatever coldness she was experimenting was soon forgotten when the warm of your hug and the arms of her children engulfed her completely.  She couldn’t help but smile when you planted a single kiss on her lips, and her children snickered calling out to her with posters in their hands.

“What are you guys doing here?” Wanda took the first poster that Billy had made, it was a drawing of their home decorated with many toys and colours representing her, Tommy, America and even Y/N.

“Y/N thought you missed us, and we decided to come and invite you to some snacks.” Tommy said also presenting Wanda with his own drawing. “And, she said you need support.”

“And thus, they did this for you.” You continued grinning, “this is mine, but of course not as good as theirs.”

In your you had written a single declaration of beauty and love in Sokovian, Wanda softened at the words and the drawings not being able to take her smile off of her face. She breathed softly when your lips found hers, her laughter breaking the moment when she heard Tommy and Billy making gagging sounds.

“Ugh, no, mommy!” Billy grabbed Wanda by her hand shaking his head, “come on!! I’m hungry!”

“Me too!”

You chuckled wiggling your brows while winking at Wanda, “come, America is waiting for us and then, once we have them distracted I will kiss you again.”

Wanda flushed but she decided she wouldn’t wait, instead of letting you go she grabbed you by your hand and placed a singe kiss on your lips. You blinked away your shock, while the twins merely snickered covering their mouths.

“Now, where are you taking me guys?”

“We’re going to the park!” The twins screamed running towards the car, you smiled at Wanda who merely blinked confused at you.

“The amusement park.” You clarified scratching the back of your head, “they have this new carnival and I thought you guys would like it.”

Wanda let her eyes wandered to her children then back at you, her heart shrank under your stare and the innocent happiness behind her children. She nodded stretching her hand to grab your right hand in hers.

“We’ve never been to one, so I’m pretty sure we would love it.”

“Good, then let’s go!”

__________________

The park was located it in the southern part of the city.

Winter was the perfect time to bring forth the ice-skating rinks, the place was filled with families and friends enjoying the falling afternoon light and the bright lights from the different attractions. Wanda felt her heart jumped anxiously when she lost sight of Tommy and Billy only to see them talking animatedly with Kate and America.

It didn’t take too long for her to see the familiar faces of her students, and some of your friends walking around the place while sharing a good time. You intertwined your fingers with hers, smiling softly at her while leading her to the closest food stand. You glanced around seeing as America shook her head while negotiating with the twins, Wanda leaned closer to you offering the same tender smile she reserved for you.

“This is amazing.”

“You liked it?” You asked softly, Wanda nodded squeezing your hand reassuringly.

“I do.”

“Good, I was thinking of doing something different with you and the twins, I know as of late you have been stressing out and they haven’t slept well.” You lowered your gaze to the menu, sensing as Wanda tensed by your side.

“You knew?” She turned to America then back at you, your lips broke into a crooked smile shrugging.

“I suspect as much.” You sighed pointing at the combo for a hot dog and soda, “this one look fine, what do you say?”

“It has been difficult but, nothing we can’t deal with.” Her tone of voice had improved since new year, but sometimes you could catch the scratching of her throat and the fading wound Vision had left on her.

“You know I’m here for you and the twins, don’t you?” You faced the young woman, this time around forgetting all about the food and focusing your attention on Wanda.

Wanda shifted letting go of your hand, she felt the cold breeze of the afternoon sneaked inside her clothing. She shivered missing the warmness your hand was providing, though if she were to be honest with herself, it wasn’t your hand. It was you. All of you.

“I know.” Wanda lowered her gaze, her arms wrapping around herself. “Sometimes it’s just difficult for me to know…to actually realise I’m not alone. And that…”

She trailed off when a young man came from behind the counter asking for your order. Wanda observed with care just as you asked for her favourites, while also making sure to ask for Billy and Tommy’s favourites. You knew them so well, Wanda wondered why she had never noticed how attentive you were, how much you knew about them without any difficulties.

You need to let go, and give yourself a chance.

Wanda had already had this conversation before, and she had already fought over with herself against the uncertainty that these new emotions and this new relationship might bring to her life. With a softening heart she sneaked her arm around yours leaning closer to you, you lifted your brows surprised by the gesture but smiling smugly at her closeness.

“Which one is your favourite?” Wanda asked all of a sudden, you furrowed your brows pursing your lips before speaking.

“I like it spicy; you know? No pineapple because, yuck,” Wanda chuckled taking into your every word, “and I like all the sauces I can get my hands on.”

“So basically, a hot dog that may kill you in the near future or get you an upset tummy?” Wanda commented shaking her head, you rolled your eyes shrugging.

“Come on, is not that bad!!”

Wanda snorted but she could not say anything else for Billy and Tommy came right there, both of them were quite excited talking at the same time pointing to a different set of attractions they wanted to try over. You smiled fondly just as Wanda tried to negotiate with her children, America chuckled lifting her arms when both of them pointed to her while pouting. Soon the food was brought over, and you decided it was time for you to intervene.

“Okay, okay, I have a proposal!” Everyone turned to you, your good arm lifting above your head before pointing with your head the table filled with food. “We are going to eat first, then we will go to the Carousel, then we will move onto the bumper cars.”

Billy and Tommy cheered high fiving while hugging you with smiles on their faces, Wanda chewed on her lower lip glancing at those rides before turning to you. You winked at her leaning forward while lifting a single finger.

“Then, we will go to the Ferris Wheel to see the lights show from the park, okay?”

“Yes!” The twins then proceed to drag you to the table eager to start eating and go to the different attractions.

Wanda and America stayed behind grabbing napkins and helping with the beverages.

“They really are happy.” Wanda stated glancing at her children then back at America.

“They really are, are you?”

“I am.” Wanda shrugged smiling softly, Kate came right at that moment helping around while turning to Wanda.

“My mom just called me, she told me everything is ready and that if you confirmed her right now she would get everything ready for Friday.” Kate grinned when Wanda opened her eyes excitedly.

“You mean it?”

“Yep, I know Y/N would love her so…”

“You just have to say the word.” America pressed over smiling as well. Wanda turned to you where you were sitting with the twins helping them around while also allowing them to help you with the food.

Wanda felt her heart beat a tad bit faster, shrinking with pure emotion at the familiar scene she had gotten to witness in the last couple of weeks. She turned to the two teens nodding excitedly.

“Yes, tell her I take it.”

America squealed excitedly hugging Wanda before turning to an equally excited Kate.

“She is going to love it, you will see.”

Wanda surely hoped so, for the only thing in her mind was to make sure you also experience the love, affection and happiness she had felt with you from the moment the both of you met. From the moment, the both of you gave the friendship a chance to grow into something else.

Wanda Maximoff had never had such a wonderful time before.

She was dragged by you or America or even her children around the park to try the different attractions. She got to experience the adrenaline of the roller coaster, while also gave in the excitement of the bumper cars while laughing alongside you.

You were by her side at all times, without being overwhelming it was as if you knew what it was she needed and you were right there to make sure she got it. Wanda admired the easiness in which you and the twins soon found a common ground and they sought you out for comfort or confirmation of what to do next.

Whatever doubts that came after the incident, or whatever reluctance Wanda felt when around you were soon forgotten and she just gave in standing by your side with a beating heart and a tingling body whenever you brushed your hand against hers or your lips found hers when alone.

In the end, and after going through all the different stands holding games with prizes everyone ended up on the Ferry Wheel.

“Come on guys, you can go first.” You nodded to your sister and Kate, winking lightly while America just rolled her eyes.

“Let us take Billy and Tommy…” Kate started but you shook your head placing your right hand on her shoulder.

“No, this is for you guys, go and snog my sister when you get to the highest point,” you chuckled when Kate blushed looking away while America looked mortified, “you guys have been taken them with you most of the day, so it’s only fair. Go.”

Wanda was standing back with Billy and Tommy furrowing her brows when, after a moment of discussion America and Kate finally went inside one of the passenger cars. You stepped back joining Wanda who was trying to hold back the twins that were waving happily at America and Kate.

“I think we shouldn’t eat those candy apples,” Wanda snickered when the twins talked amongst themselves excitedly.

“Oh, come on, those are quite delicious, and I don’t mind them being this hyperactive.”

“You don’t?” Wanda blinked a couple of times stepping forward, waiting until the car stopped and the door was opened for you and the others to go in.

“No, I actually think it’s kinda cute.” You blinked at her before calling for Billy.

“Come here, little guy, you’re sitting with me, and Tommy is sitting with Wanda.” You pinned them with your eyes, your face transforming into a mask of pure seriousness. “I need you to be well-behaved because while this is fun, we need to make sure it is also safe, okay?”

“Yes, Y/N.” Both of them said at the same time, Wanda cocked her head lifting a single eyebrow impressed.

Soon the ride started with classical music playing through the speakers, you looked outside with Billy pointing out the different spots. You leaned forward answering his questions, while also telling him and Tommy about a past you had experienced with America and your parents. Wanda leaned back hearing the sound of your voice and the question of her children while taking in the scene.

“Woah, look mommy!! This is so pretty!” Tommy said pointing right outside the car where the lights show was being played near the skate rink.

“It is, it looks really pretty.” Wanda mumbled glancing at you and noticing you had your eyes on her.

“It is just beautiful.” You replied as well, smiling tenderly at her before turning your attention back to the outside world.

“This is the best day ever, Y/N, thank you.” Billy said softly turning to you and giving you a tight hug.

You returned the hug softening your features while feeling your heart skipped a beat under the display of affection from the little boy.

“I’m glad you like it, Billy.” Your voice was loud enough for him, Tommy and Wanda to hear you out, “I just want to make you enjoy the beautiful things in life, if you guys allow me to do so, I will be more than happy to show you the world.”

Wanda wrapped her arms around Tommy, shaking her head while her eyes filled with tears.

“How about you let us show you also the beautiful and fun things in life, and we share those experiences with one another?” Wanda replied glancing at you, the silent invitation there.

You chuckled nodding, “I would love that.”

Wanda nodded turning again to the world outside the passenger car, her heart leaping with happiness at the moment she was living with you and the twins. Suddenly, in the midst of such peaceful moment Wanda came to the realisation that everything she needed, whatever she had been looking for was just there, sitting right across her loving her children and her without asking nothing in return.

And for that, she loved you without any reservations.

For that, she promised herself to make sure you were happy, the way you were making her and her children happy.

____________________________

Final chapter: The date Wanda planned finally comes to be, there will be smut, and happily ever after.

[slaymitchabernathy]

Pretty

It’s cute the way she looks so surprised. As if she expects him to not be waiting outside of her classroom on day to walk her to her next class.

He’s only been doing it for a month.

But Coriolanus has to patient with her, his pretty girl.

Her head lowers as she walks out of the door, several students brushing right past her, paying her no mind as their shoulders bump into hers, nearly jostling her books out of her hands.

Coriolanus clenched his jaw along with his fists. After dating Soarynn for a month he’d learned how rude people can be, how oblivious they can be towards quiet, timid little things like her. Taking her kindness for granted. How dare they.

It’s always been easy for him to stand out. Literally and figuratively. He’s heads above most people when it comes to height, no one dares to bump into him on their way to the lunch room. And he’s always been popular, well liked amongst his peers, always waving hello to a friendly face.

He makes his way over to her, taking her books without asking and holding them in one of his hands. He takes her hand in the other, lacing his fingers with hers, a sense of pride coursing through his veins as he leads them through the hallway.

People make way for them. For him. They eye Soarynn up and down, still not sure what to make of the new couple. Soarynn’s face is slightly flushed and he can tell she wants to disappear, to bury her nose in one of her books.

She loves to read is what he’s found out. She told him it was a way of escaping for her. So he tried to listen whenever she told him about something she was reading. It wasn’t even fiction. She read books about Panem’s history, things like that. The librarian must love her.

But she can’t hide in her books forever. He reminds her of that every so often. Coriolanus has made it his personal mission to get Soarynn more out of her shell and show her off the to the world. He’s so selfless. Giving her a chance, walking her to class, taking her home. He’s doing it all by the book so to speak.

And it’s going perfectly.

She tries to let go of his hand when they reach her anatomy class but he tugs her back, smirking at how powerless she is against him. She looks up, her eyes pleading, “I need to get to my seat to study before my exam, it’s very impor—“

“You studied yesterday pretty girl,” Coriolanus reminds her. He only knows that because he was right next to her, trying to distract her. But Soarynn was so adamant about preparing for this exam so he settled for watching her study. Plus she brought him snacks, so that helped.

It’s adorable the way she shakes her head, about to insist how she’s bound to fail this exam even though she’s aced every single one so far this school year. She’s smart his girl. Smarter than he originally thought. “I just get nervous,” she whispers, “it’s important that I do well on all my exams.” Coriolanus has to lean down to hear what she says, another thing he finds sweet about her, how small she is compared to him.

Soarynn mumbles a lot. Or whispers. Or talks in hushed tones. The girl is quiet as a mouse. And since they started dating he’s found himself constantly leaning down to hear the words coming out of her mouth. He doesn’t mind though, she only does it when she’s nervous.

“You’ll do fine,” he assures her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, “I’ll get you when you’re done okay?”

Soarynn simply nods as he hands back her books, walking into her classroom.

Coriolanus has a free period so he spends it bothering Felix Ravenstill who got stuck being an office aid for this period. He’s on the phone when Coriolanus walks in, droning on and on about Academy policies.

“Yes Mrs. Whatnot, I understand you don’t like the shade of our fabrics on your son’s skin tone but I can’t do anything about it. If you’d like you can take it up with the Dean. I also…hello? Hello?” Felix looks up at Coriolanus from his seat, “She hung up on me! The nerve of some of these parents,” he scoffs, slamming the phone down on the receiver.

Coriolanus chuckles as he sits across from Felix. It’s almost as if he’s been sent to the office. Normally there’s an adult working who sits where Felix is sitting but Felix is reliving them of their duties for the next hour or so.

“That’s what you get for recommending she talk to Highbottom,” Coriolanus jokes, giving Felix a knowing look. Dean Highbottom is a senile man who hates children which makes his job even more ironic. Most parents avoid speaking with him unless it’s an absolute emergency. Like the Academy uniforms for example.

“Well I hope she doesn’t call back when I’m working,” Felix says, crossing his arms over his chest, “what’ve you been up to today?” Coriolanus shrugs as he picks at his nails, “Just the usual. I walked Soarynn to her anatomy class, there’s this exam she’s super nervous about. I’ll see her after though since we have literature next.”

He looks up to see Felix smirking, “So what have you two been up to?”

A common question Coriolanus has gotten since he began dating Soarynn. It was odd he had to admit, to see the two of them together. They were both attractive but that was where the similarities ended it seemed. At least on the surface.

Everyone wanted to know what a guy like him was doing with a girl like her. Coriolanus was so outspoken, so confident, so charming. Soarynn was quiet, timid and reserved. In a way they were complete opposites. But opposites attract.

And he didn’t plan on letting her go for a long, long time. Not until he had his fun with her at least.

He’d asked her to officially be his girlfriend the same day he finally got to see her perfect little cunt. She’d said yes, still so flustered from everything that happened, poor thing probably didn’t even realize what she was agreeing to until it was too late.

Since then they hadn’t moved too fast. He knew he was in for the long run, there was no rushing these things. While he hadn’t fingered her yet, he’d gotten her to give him head. It was cute how clueless she was to it all, how she needed to be told what to do. She could be so dumb in that way.

Coriolanus liked that about her.

He liked teaching her exactly how to do things the way he wanted them to be done. How to lick the tip of his cock. How to wrap her lips around it without using her teeth. How to take all of him without complaint. How to look him in the eye while sucking him off, and he loves looking her in those pretty eyes while she’s on her knees for him.

Soarynn’s a fast learner in that regard. She learned exactly how he liked how to be pleased, how she was expected to swallow his cum each and every time he finished in her mouth.

He’d finish in her cunt eventually. But he was taking things slow.

Sometimes it drove him insane. How squeamish she’d get when they were kissing, or when she’d try to duck out of the way when he’d try to kiss her goodbye in the hallway. She was shy. He didn’t mind it for the most part. He never hard to worry about her talking to other guys or anyone for that matter. She barely talks to his friends.

“Nothing too exciting,” he tells his friend, throwing him a wink. All the boys had formed a small bet on how quickly Coriolanus would be able to truly get into Soarynn’s pants. There was another bet, a side bet to see if she’d bleed when he did it. As if she wasn’t a virgin.

They both spent the rest of the period snickering about gossip and who was fucking who before the bell finally rang. “See you at lunch,” he calls as he leaves the office.

Soarynn was still in her class when he got there. He peeked in to see she was the only one left. Well, the professor was still there but all the students had left. Soarynn’s scribbling on the paper, leaning against her hand as she writes, her hair in her face.

Finally she sits up, grabs her exam paper and goes to the front to deliver it. The professor barely gives her a glance as she places it on his desk, “Have a good weekend,” he tells her before looking back at his work.

She notices Coriolanus when she turns around, looking surprised as always. He’d insisted on walking her to class once they started dating. It was the gentlemanly thing to do, plus everyone could see his pretty girl on his arm. Two birds with one stone.

She’s quick to gather her things and put them in her Academy satchel before she joins him at the door, her hand slipping into his without hesitation. It seems she’s eager to get out of this classroom. “How did you do?” He asks, taking them to the right, towards their literature class.

Soarynn sighs, “I don’t know. At least it’s over.” Indeed it is, and as her professor said, they have the weekend to enjoy. Coriolanus hums as he pulls her along, looking down to see her brushing her hair behind her ears, “I’m sure you did good darling. You studied very hard for that exam.” She certainly did, it cost him a whole afternoon without any sort of physical affection from Soarynn. She tended to withhold all affection from him whenever she was stressed.

So he did his best to keep her life stress free.

Which includes walking her to and from class every day.

They find Festus sitting in the back when they arrive to literature. Poor Felix is still stuck being an office aide, which conveniently opened up a seat in the back row for Soarynn to sit in. Festus gives them a smile as they take their seats, Coriolanus sitting in between the two of them. “Are you two ready to present your project today?”

Soarynn’s eyes widen at the question and she looks at Coriolanus with genuine fear in her eyes, “That’s today?” She asks, her voice barely a whisper. Both boys nod and Coriolanus gives her shoulder a comforting squeeze, “We’ll be fine baby. Besides, we already planned for me to do a majority of the talking.”

Coriolanus had only asked to partner with Soarynn to get closer to her, to get that golden opportunity. He hadn’t planned on actually having to complete the project. But it was simple enough. You had to write about someone in your life who was an exemplary citizen of the Capitol. Coriolanus had suggested his own father and Soarynn had agreed without second thought. Since it was his own blood they’d be talking about, he offered to do most of the talking since Soarynn didn’t do too well with public speaking.

She barely spoke as it was.

Soarynn didn’t look too convinced but the professor walked in, his gaze settling on the two of them, “Once I call roll you two can begin.”

Oh, and they had to stand in the front of the classroom.

This was a walk in the park for Coriolanus. He loved to talk about himself and his family and loved being the center of attention. Soarynn however, hated projects like this. In fact, she’d told him that she would often fake being sick if she knew there was a presentation due in one of her classes.

Coriolanus didn’t mind public speaking, he’d be doing a lot of it once he became President so he had to start somewhere. He began to wonder who would be his First Lady while their Professor called roll. She’d have to be sweet, charming, polite, pretty.

He looks down at his hand that’s intertwined with Soarynn’s hand and she’s nervously tapping her foot. Poor thing. He leans over and presses a chaste kiss to her neck, a spot that he knows will make her toes curl, “Relax pretty girl, I’ve got you.”

Soarynn nods but doesn’t look at him, her breath hitching in her throat once the roll is done with. They both stand up, their project in his other hand as they make their way to the front of the classroom. A few of their classmates are still whispering about who knows what and while Coriolanus normally wouldn’t mind, it irks him for some reason.

Maybe it’s because it’s just rude. Or maybe it’s because they’d discussed Soarynn introducing herself first and he can see how her eyes slightly widen when she realizes she has to talk while other people are talking.

Either way, he’s quick to clear his throat and send a nasty look their way, quieting them immediately. Pleased with himself, he looks down at Soarynn and nods. Once she introduces herself, she’s practically done talking. Soarynn swallows and straightens up, “Hello,” she says, “my name is Soarynn Nightingale.” Coriolanus smiles, “And my name is Coriolanus Snow, and today we’re going to tell you why my father, Crassus Xanthos Snow, is the perfect Capitol citizen.”

꧁ ꧂

“Snakes are much scarier than rats!” Clemensia Dovecote says to Festus who simply shakes his head, “You haven’t seen the big ones, Clemmie,” he tells her solemnly, “the big rats that live in the sewers will have you running for the hills.” Coriolanus chuckles at his friend's pointless conversation while he eats his lunch. He looks to his left where Soarynn’s sitting, her nose buried in a book.

He sighs but doesn’t chide her about it, he knows today’s events have strung her out and that she wishes for nothing more than to go home early and curl up in her bedroom. But that doesn’t mean she gets to skip out on lunch.

He’d invited her to his table, his elite table. Filled with children of the Capitol’s elite, soon to be the elite. Felix and Festus obviously sat here, along with Clemensia and Arachne Crane—although he found her rather insufferable—Pup Harrington and Urban Canville. Their table was the one to be at so wasn’t Soarynn just so lucky that she got an invitation?

The first day he’d brought her around he’d gotten some curious looks from the girls but once they realized she was quiet as a mouse, there were no issues. Soarynn wasn’t a threat.

“Are you excited for the ball?” Arachne asks Coriolanus, practically jumping in her seat and getting Clemmie to join in with her. Coriolanus rolled his eyes, “It’s a ball, not a wedding,” he points out. He knows the girls don’t care, that all they can think about is dress shopping and dancing all night.

Arachne’s sharp gaze finds Soarynn who’s tuned out the majority of the conversation since sitting down, her lunch already eaten within the first five minutes. “Have you already been dress shopping Soarynn?” The look of bewilderment on Soarynn’s face is somewhat adorable to Coriolanus as he watches her attempt to formulate an answer.

“I have not,” she answers softly. So softly that everyone has to lean forward to hear what she has to say. Coriolanus places his hand over hers, “I’m going to take her shopping this weekend.” He hasn’t planned on taking her dress shopping this weekend, but he also knows how it would end if Soarynn went with Arachne and Clemmie. Horribly.

The girls simply nod before returning to a more private conversation and Coriolanus uses this as a chance to tell Soarynn about what else he has planned for them.

“I’d like you to come over tonight,” he whispers, his large hand still engulfing her small one. It still amazes him how significant their size difference is, how easily he can overpower her or simply maneuver her however he so pleases.

He likes that about her too, how pliant his pretty girl is.

Soarynn's eyes are already glued back onto the pages of her book when she replies, "I'm having dinner with my father tonight." Coriolanus suppressed an annoyed groan when hearing that, when hearing that he'd have to wait a little longer to have his quiet little mouse in his hands again. "All right, I'd like you to come over after you have dinner then," he says, leaving no room for argument. Soarynn just hums and turns the page.

꧁ ꧂

Coriolanus is all but tapping his foot and pacing the halls when the familiar sound of the doorbell alerts him that Soarynn has arrived. He glances at his wristwatch, it's a little after seven which is perfect. His parents are on a trip this weekend, visiting a District resort so he has the whole place to himself.

He opens the doors, more than pleased to be greeted by the sight of his pretty girlfriend who's dressed exactly to his liking. A short skirt, a loose sweater, and her hair slightly pulled back from her face.

She looks so pretty.

"Hi baby," he says, pulling her in for a kiss. Soarynn doesn't even tense when he does this, doesn't even try to get away. She's much more docile when they're both alone, a little more trusting. So pure and innocent. "Hi," she whispers when he pulls away, her cheeks pink.

He chuckles and takes her hand, leading them to his bedroom, a place she's grown all too familiar with. "How was dinner?" He asks, not really caring how it went but knowing she doesn't get to see her dad a whole lot. He can't relate. His father is always home.

"It was okay. He actually had to leave early to deal with some business stuff in Two." Coriolanus halts in his tracks causing Soarynn to slightly run into him. He turns and looks down at her, his eyes wide with excitement, "So you're home all by yourself?" She nods, shifting on her feet. "Then you can sleep over, my parents are gone too," he decided, the plan already formulating in his mind.

Soarynn's blue-gray eyes widen as she looks up at him, "I...I don't know if I can sleep over Coriolanus,' she says softly, "I didn't ask for permission or if there was somethi-"

"Pretty girl he's never gonna know," he cuts her off, "you're spending the night, I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you while you were alone at home." Was he slightly exaggerating? Yes, but she didn't need to know that.

Now that he'd cleared that up, he led them into his bedroom where Soarynn closed the doors behind them, just the way he liked it. "You can wear some of my clothes to sleep," he says, pulling open his desk drawer, and looking for the bottle he'd stashed away in there.

He can hear Soarynn shuffling towards his bed, kicking off her shoes before sitting down. At least she knows what to do, what to wear, what to say. he grins when he finds the bottle and grabs it, turning around to see Soarynn perched on the edge of his bed, expectantly watching him.

Over the past month, they've adopted some sort of a routine for whenever she comes over. First, she says hello to his parents. His father barely gives her a glance, too consumed with work and all too used to Coriolanus bringing home girls left and right. To him, Soarynn's just another notch in his son's belt.

And sometimes that's how Coriolanus sees her, just another conquest, another body. But sometimes he finds himself genuinely caring for her, especially after seeing how lonely she is, how she truly has no friends. She's a sweet girl, a pretty girl.

Then she says hello to his mother who adores Soarynn, thinks she's such a pretty little thing, and that her son has secured such a perfect match. It is getting to be that time when couples begin to form and settle down, right before graduation. After all that's been done, they go to his room.

In his room is where the real fun begins. That's when he has her all to himself, can do whatever he wants with her. They usually start slow, with her on his lap, his hands on her waist. He knows she's still nervous, she still shakes and it's not from pleasure.

He strides over to her, bottle in his grasp and her eyes immediately lock onto it. His pretty girl is so perceptive. “What is that?” She asks, her curiosity getting the best of her. Usually, Soarynn keeps to herself and simply does what he tells her, never questioning his authority.

Coriolanus sits next to her on the bed, his clothed thigh brushing against her bare one. “Festus gave these to me,” he tells her, holding out the bottle so she can have a better look, “he says they help you relax, feel good.” Soarynn furrows her brows and takes the bottle, turning it over in her hands, examining its contents. There’s no label, Coriolanus made sure of that and the pills are white, nothing on them.

“Are you going to take these?” She asks him, handing back the bottle. Coriolanus smiles, “We are going to take these, just one for each of us should be enough.” Soarynn frowns, her hands nervously playing with the hem of her skirt, “I don’t think I should take those,” she mumbles, “I’ve never really taken any medication before.”

He expected this, the pushback, the hesitation. And he prepared for it. “Baby, I wouldn’t give these to you if I didn’t think they’d make you feel good. Don’t you want to relax, let me make you feel good?” His hand grabs her thigh and she slightly tenses. While he hasn’t fingered her yet, he has feasted on her delicious cunt many times and he knows how much Soarynn likes it even if she won’t admit it.

She nervously eyes the bottle again, it’s like he can see her resolve slowly breaking. “Okay,” she whispers, “just one.” He grins and grabs her face in his hand, pressing a kiss to her lips. Soarynn kisses him back, she’s gotten better at returning his kisses instead of tolerating them, especially when it’s just the two of them.

He’s quick to open the bottle, he won’t be taking any of these pills, not if he values the mobility of his body. But Soarynn will. He lets go of her face for only a moment, just to grab one of the white pills and press it against her lips as he kisses her, “Swallow it, pretty girl,” he says against her lips, pressing the pill into her mouth.

Soarynn whimpers but she does as he says and swallows it. It’s easy to pretend he takes on as well, to act like he can feel the tingly feeling that she’s feeling. Soarynn’s getting more frantic, more on edge as he keeps kissing her. But he reassures all her worries with soft kisses, eventually pulling her into his lap, his hands going under her skirt to grab her ass. Soarynn moans into the kiss, grinding on his thigh.

Coriolanus smirks, it’s working.

From what Festus described, the pills are meant to help you relax, but they also make you more compliant, easier to move around since they’ll nearly numb your entire body. And that’s exactly what Coriolanus wants. He doesn’t know how long it’ll take for everything to kick in but he starts to notice her loss of mobility ten minutes later when she can no longer clutch onto his dress shirt while he kisses her. Soarynn whimpers and it’s not from pleasure, it’s from fear.

“Coriolanus,” she says, “I don’t…I don’t feel so good.”

He feigns a look of concern and pulls away from her soft lips, placing a hand on her forehead. She’s got a faraway look in her eyes, and she’s swaying in his lap like she might fall over if he doesn’t keep his grip on her, “Do you need to lay down pretty girl?”

He doesn’t wait for a response before he lays her down on his bed, her legs splayed out, her hands trying to grip the sheets but failing as she loses more mobility. Coriolanus starts with her skirt, slipping it off her body and smirking when he sees she’s wearing a baby pink thong, with a little bow on the front. “You wear this just for me?” He asks, slipping his hands under her sweater. Soarynn whimpers, trying to move but she can’t. She can’t. She looks so pretty when she can’t.

It’s a bit harder to slip her sweater off. Soarynn whines when her arms flop back onto the bed, her chest nearly exposed if it weren't for the matching baby pink bra she's wearing. Coriolanus chuckles, remembering when he bought this very set for her. How ironic that now she's going to bleed in it. "You look so pretty Soarynn," he murmurs, tracing his fingertips down her stomach towards her covered cunt.

Soarynn tries to move but can't, she can barely make a sound let alone tell him to stop. Once he reaches her panties he peels them off, groaning at how wet she already is. Hadn't Festus mentioned that? Something about this pill making girls nice and wet for you? Festus would know, he's used these pills dozens of times, they're easy to get and easy to slip into a drink. Unless you're dumb like Soarynn and swallow it whole.

It's damn near embarrassing how wet Soarynn gets for Coriolanus now. He relishes the fact that no one else has ever touched her before, seen her like this before. He leans down and licks a stripe up her cunt, grinning when her hips slightly buck up, the pill's contents too strong for her to achieve much movement.

He figures he might as well enjoy this while he can so he pries her thighs as far apart as they'll go, appreciating how flexible she is. Soarynn lets out another whine and he bites her inner thigh, "Hush Soarynn," he says, greedily eyeing her pretty cunt, "you should be thanking me for what I'm about to do to you."

He eats her out like a starved man from the Districts. She still tastes as sweet as she did the first time but for some reason, he finds her wetness even more addicting. Maybe it's the drug in her system. She lets out a few quiet moans but for the most part, she's silent, her chest rapidly rising and falling. Coriolanus takes his sweet time with her, lapping at her clit, biting it, sucking on it. He doesn't finger her though. He plans on stretching her out with his cock and a single finger might ruin his chances of seeing her bleed for him.

Coriolanus can tell she's getting close with the way her cunt starts to pulse, almost fluttering. Normally she'd be crying and whining and babbling all sorts of things but not today. It's a strange type of silence. Coriolanus has grown used to gauging how he's doing based off of girl's moans but Soarynn's always been quiet. Until it came to the bedroom.

She cums in his mouth, a wheeze slipping out of her lips as he continues eating her out, working her through her orgasm while getting soaked in the process. Coriolanus sits up and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, pleased with his work down there so far.

He finally looks at Soarynn's face and there are tears streaming down her cheeks as she stares up at the intricately carved ceiling. He crawls over her body, cupping her face, "Don't cry pretty girl, I'm gonna make you feel so good," he whispers, using his other hand to tug down his pants. Soarynn closes her eyes, trying to block him out but it angers Coriolanus and he grabs her jaw, shaking it until her eyes fly open, wide with fear.

"Don't be a fucking brat," he hisses, "I've given you things you couldn't dream of and now you're going to be my good girl and take my cock like you should." He pulls down his boxers next, his cock springs out. Soarynn's seen it before, tasted it before but she's never had it lodged in her tight little cunt before.

He glances down at her spread legs and can't wait to bury himself between them. He looks up at Soarynn one more time and while he expects sadness or anger or even fear he's surprised with a different look. Betrayal. He scoffs and pinches her cheek, "Don't be like that baby, you should've known it would happen like this. But don't worry, you'll learn to love it, love me. I'm not letting you go after this, you're mine, my pretty girl."

Another tear falls down her cheek but he chooses to ignore it and focuses on lining up the tip of his cock with her entrance, "You save yourself for your future husband?" He asks, slightly taunting her. Lots of Capitol girls do it, thinking it'll make them more desirable. It makes them more of a target if anything but Coriolanus won't be the one to tell them that. He slowly begins to push in, ignoring the strained groan Soarynn lets out, her legs slightly twitching from the painful intrusion. He leans back over her, looking into those dazzling eyes, "It's a good thing your husband is fucking you right now."

He thrusts straight in, moaning at how fucking tight she is because heaven knows he's never had a tighter cunt before. Soarynn's eyes squeeze shut and she lets out a strangled scream, her face scrunching up, her entire body twitching. Coriolanus swears as he bottoms out, his tip brushing her sweet spot. "Fuck Soarynn," he gasps, "you're cunt is so fucking tight, can't believe it took me this long to fuck you." He slowly drags his cock out, wanting her to feel every vein, ridge, and inch of it before slamming back in.

Coriolanus sets a hard, punishing pace to start out, listening to the squelch her cunt is making as he fucks into her so deep. He looks down to see her stomach slightly bulging and laughs, "Look's like I'm already too big for you pretty girl, might have to cock train you, let my friends take you for a spin."

Her eyes open at that threat and she looks terrified at the idea of his friends splitting her cunt open, laughing at her, taking turns fucking her throat. He shakes his head, his hand grabbing her throat and squeezing it, "Don't worry angel, I won't ever let anyone see this precious cunt but me. This is my cunt Soarynn, do you understand? Mine. Every fucking breath you take belongs to me, every orgasm, everything is mine now."

Soarynn's eyes are glassy as he fucks into her, her breasts bouncing up and down with every thrust. He almost wishes she could make more noise, so he could hear how fucking dumb she sounds, how good he's making her feel. He reaches down at rubs her clit and Soarynn gasps, "My dumb little fuckdoll," he croons, "so full of cock you can't even think can you baby? Maybe I should leave you like this, drugged up all the time. Tie you up, always ready for my cock, all you're good for is taking my cum hmm?" Soarynn's eyes start to roll to the back of her head and he can see her toes curling.

He squeezes her throat even tighter, cutting off her airflow, "You'll take my cum every fucking time do you understand? And if you don't, I'll rip that fucking birth control implant out of you and fuck my child into you, do you understand?" It's not like Soarynn can verbally respond but she actually attempts to nod and he's pleased with that.

His pretty girl is so obedient.

Coriolanus grunts, happy he got his message across and starts drilling into her sweet spot, determined to see Soarynn unravel around him. He moans when her walls flutter around his cock, sucking him in, "There you go pretty girl, give it to me, you know you want it. You were made for this, made for my cock, such a good girl for me Soarynn, I barely need to train you." He would train her, teach her his favorite positions, what to say, what to wear, what to do.

His own pretty little fuckdoll.

Finally, she cums and she looks so fucking pretty when she squeezed around him, she looks so scared when she cums, her body doesn't even know what to do. He continues fucking into her though, he won't ever stop until he is finished. She needs to learn that.

Coriolanus feels his thrusts getting more erratic and he sits up, grabbing her hips for leverage to fuck into her, "Take it," he grunts, feeling himself tip over the edge, "take it while you look so pretty for me."

He watches as her cunt takes everything he gives her, every drop of cum stuck in her dumb little cunt. He slowly pulls out, his eyes nearly rolling back when he sees his cock covered in her blood. It's leaking out onto his white bedsheets, mixed with their cum, mostly his cum. "Oh pretty girl," he says, swiping between her legs, "you were so perfect for me."

Soarynn doesn't even respond, he's not sure she's even conscious right now. Her eyes are closed and her body is limp, probably fucked out to the point of exhaustion. She'll have to learn that too, how to take it for multiple rounds. Coriolanus Snow isn't easily satisfied.

꧁ ꧂

Soarynn sleeps well into the middle of the night, curled up against his side. He cleaned her up, bathed her, wiped away the cum and her blood. Soarynn wasn't awake for the clean-up or aftercare but she would be in the future.

Coriolanus was sound asleep when he hears the sound of sniffling. He slowly opens his eyes and looks up to see Soarynn sitting up, her knees pulled to her chest as she cries. When he places his hand on her bare back she flinches, "Soarynn," he whispers, his voice deep with sleep. Soarynn shakes her head, "No, no, you...you get away from me," she sobs, trying to get off the bed but he's faster than her and wraps his strong arms around her.

"Soarynn," he starts again but his quiet, pretty girl is suddenly so loud.

"NO!" She screams, kicking and squirming in his hold, "No you let me go! Don't touch me after...after what you...what you did," she whispers the last part, her voice breaking as she sobs again, her small frame shaking.

Coriolanus can only hold her tight, letting her cry while he presses soft kisses to her bare shoulder while she mourns her stolen girlhood, "Soarynn I love you," he whispers, feeling her go still in his hold, "and I...I didn't know how to tell you or show you but I'm sorry if I ever hurt you in any way, it was never my intention." All lies but she doesn't need to know that. Coriolanus needs her wrapped around his finger.

Soarynn shudders, sniffling, "You lied to me, you lied about everything." Her voice is hoarse. So she's upset about everything, typical. "It wasn't a lie," he insists, maneuvering her around until she's facing him, nearly in his lap, "but let me tell you the truth." His piercing blue eyes stare into hers with such intensity she seems frozen, "No one will ever love you the way I love you. And now that you're used, no one will ever give you a chance, you can kiss any marriage prospects goodbye," he says without a trace of sympathy.

Even in the dark, he can see her whole world falling apart, "Think about it. You have no family besides, your dad who's just as quiet as you. He'd already have a hard time finding you a proper match but now that you're not a virgin it'll be nearly impossible. Besides baby, you're perfect for me, everyone thinks so. Don't ruin your chances because of something as little as your pride."

Soarynn's bottom lip trembles and it seems she comes to terms with what he's just told her. More lies but she's so dumb and naive. "You love me?" She asks, her fingers shaking, her arms covered in goosebumps. Coriolanus nods so earnestly that he almost believes himself. He's sure he can find love in his heart for her someday but not now. Who the hell falls in love one month into their relationship?

"I do," he tells her, holding her so tight as if she could break at any moment. Soarynn wipes her tears, her shoulders slouching in defeat, "Okay," she says, her voice so soft and gentle compared to how she addressed him a mere seconds ago, "I love you too."

Coriolanus grins, he's won again. He pressed a kiss to her lips, this one she returns after a moment of hesitance but he chooses to ignore it. He knows it'll be harder now, making it up to her. He'll have to dote on her, buy her gifts, take her on more dates, be the perfect boyfriend.

She'll have to get used to him though, his drive to put her in her place, how rough he can get when he's angry. If she wants him to love her, she'll have to love him too. The good the bad and the ugly. It's a good thing Coriolanus is handsome. She's the perfect match.

His pretty girl.

| Part 2. |

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

[aishangotome]

[Gilbert] Choose Your True Love: Part 4

Part 3

♡———♡

Gilbert: ...That's a very tempting offer, but...

Gilbert: But... I'm sorry.

Gilbert: When I leave the castle, people die.

Gilbert looks "worn out" with dark circles under his eyes and a pale complexion, but he dismisses the idea of rest with the same refreshing smile as always.

I couldn't say anything.

I was frustrated by my own powerlessness.

I gripped his black mantle tightly, as if to vent my swirling emotions.

Gilbert: It would be fine if the rotten ones were dying, but he kills indiscriminately.

Gilbert: If someone doesn't keep him in check, Obsidian will eventually run out of people.

Gilbert: I wish he'd be a little smarter. Ah, I want to kill him.

Roderich: ...Prince Gilbert.

Gilbert: Heh, eventually, right?

(...When I met him, Gilbert said he didn't love anyone.)

(But maybe it wasn't that he "didn't love," but that he "couldn't love.")

(If he loved someone, he couldn't stay sane. This is that kind of country.)

(...And Gilbert loves people.)

How much did Gilbert suffer until his heart became numb to death?

He must have experienced the feelings I'm having now dozens, if not hundreds, of times.

(After all...)

(After all, it's not right that Gilbert isn't rewarded.)

Gilbert: Why are you crying?

Emma: ...I'm not crying...

I try to deny it, but my cheeks are wet.

My vision is blurred before I know it, and I can't even see Gilbert's face properly.

Gilbert: I'm sorry, did I scare you? This is difficult...

I shake my head vigorously and wipe my tears with my sleeve.

Emma: No, it's not that.

Emma: I just... I just want to be someone who can protect you.

Gilbert: Hmm? Who?

Emma: ...You, Gilbert.

Gilbert: That's a strange thing to say.

Gilbert: Ah, but we're close in the future, right?

(When I was explaining my situation to Gilbert, I didn't mention it because I thought it might confuse him, but...)

Emma: ...We're engaged.

Gilbert: To me?

Emma: Yes. I'm your fiancée.

Gilbert: ...Oh.

Emma: That's why I want to be someone you can rely on when you're in pain or suffering.

Emma: Even if it's not possible right now, someday...

(Obsidian will be reborn by Gilbert's hands in the future.)

(But the Emperor's wicked policies are still leaving their mark everywhere.)

(It seems like Gilbert is still fighting in the shadows in the future.)

(And I know he's trying to keep the dirty things away from me as much as possible.)

I'm still not mature enough for Gilbert to rely on me.

I've always been aware that my knowledge and skills are immature, but seeing the past has made it even clearer.

(I can't stay the way I am.)

(...I want to change.)

(To someone who can be relied upon like Roderich and Walter.)

(To someone who can face that hellish scene alongside him...)

Emma: I want to be someone who can protect you, Gilbert.

I declared it clearly once again.

Gilbert's eyes widened slightly, and his smile disappeared.

Gilbert: You should stop. What I'm doing is the same as what he's doing.

Gilbert: In terms of the number of people I've killed, I'm second only to the Emperor.

Gilbert: There's nothing about me that you could love--

Emma: I know.

Emma: ...I know everything.

Gilbert: ...

Gilbert: I see.

Gilbert: Ah, as I thought... I want to kill my future self.

Gilbert gently shook off my hand and finally left the hideout.

He never looked back.

That was a sign of the trampling beast's resolve.

(...Ah...)

My vision blurred, and my body swayed.

Roderich, who was standing nearby, noticed something was wrong and immediately supported me.

Roderich: ...Please lie down. The medicine must be taking effect.

Emma: Medicine...?

Roderich: It's a sleeping pill. ...Just in case you try to follow Gilbert.

(Gilbert... lied to me.)

(Come to think of it, he also lied to the Emperor... saying I was his "pet"...)

(He hates lies... but he lied to protect me.)

(Both Gilbert in the past and Gilbert now...)

(He loves people more than anyone else, even though...)

-

I must have been dreaming.

(...It was a terrible dream.)

I woke up in Gilbert's room, where he was absent, with a book as my pillow.

It was a nightmare that made me sweat so much that my clothes became cold, and cry so much that my eyes swelled up.

Fragments of the dream still remain in my mind.

When I come to the square of Obsidian Castle, I remember that cruel scene.

Obsidian Soldier 1: Hey, did you hear about tonight's dinner? There's one healthy dish designed by Professor Walter.

Obsidian Soldier 2: What?! No way... We're going to die.

Obsidian Soldier 1: Should we run away?

Obsidian Soldier 2: No... Gilbert gets angry when it's a healthy meal. If we get caught running away, we'll be killed.

(...It's peaceful.)

The soldiers, noticing me, hurriedly saluted and walked away quickly.

There were no traces of red blood in the square.

Since I started living here, there hasn't been a single execution.

The soldiers are relaxed enough to wander around chatting, a completely different scene from the one in my dream.

(I used to think this was a normal sight.)

Even so, this peace is a testament to the victory that Gilbert won after a harsh battle.

???: ... You little cheater.

Emma: !?

Suddenly, I was embraced from behind, and when I turned around, my lips were bitten hard.

Emma: Gi, Gilbert... When did you...?

Gilbert: You were exchanging glances with a passing soldier just now, weren't you?

(It seems like he's been watching me for a while.)

Emma: I looked away the moment our eyes met and ran away at full speed...

Gilbert: That's too rude to you, isn't it? I can't forgive that.

(This is a difficult question to answer...!)

I kiss Gilbert, who looks sulky.

When I look closely at his handsome face, there are no dark circles under his eyes and his complexion is good.

The air around him is not tense, but calm.

Gilbert: Did something happen?

Emma: Why do you ask?

Gilbert: You were staring at the square with a troubled look on your face, weren't you?

Emma: ...You were watching me the whole time?

Gilbert: That's mean of you not to notice me.

(This is fun.)

(...Just this much is enough to fill my chest right now.)

I turn my whole body around and put my arms around Gilbert's back.

Emma: It's not that anything happened. I was just savoring the peace, so to speak...

Gilbert: ...Hmm?

Emma: That's right! Gil, I was studying until a while ago, but there's something I don't understand.

Emma: Would you mind helping me with it?

Gilbert: Oh, I'd love to cuddle up with the cheating little rabbit right now.

Emma: I'm not cheating. ...Is this not good enough?

I quickly check that there's no one around and stand on tiptoe to kiss him again.

As his cold lips warm up, the dream fades from my mind.

Gilbert: It can't be helped.

Gilbert: I'll teach you while we cuddle.

Emma: I don't think that will help me study...

Gilbert: What was that?

Emma: ...No, thank you. I'll do my best!

Gilbert laughs amusedly and starts walking, holding my hand.

The dependability of this hand hasn't changed, past or present.

(All I can do now is acquire weapons to protect Gilbert, one by one.)

(...Study hard, learn more about Obsidian...)

(I want to be a support for Gilbert, who became a villain for the sake of others.)

(I want him to be able to live peacefully from now on, instead of carrying everything on his shoulders alone.)

I squeeze his hand back.

Strongly, tightly, so that we'll never be apart again.

(I will create a world where the Conquering Beast can be at peace as a human.)

(There's no more need for blood in Gilbert's future.)

FIN

.

.

.

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[eldritch-spouse]

This is a bit of a loaded question, however curiosity is a stronger beast than lust is

Do any of your characters have, specifically, a rape kink? Or get turned on by the idea of rape?

Gomen I know this isn't a very nice question :(

[Anon, the rape warning is in the blog for a reason, there's no need to apologize because you have crossed no boundaries. However, unlike you, these guys-]

TW: NONCON; Death; Mild dehumanization.

Kalymir. Listen. He just loves to dominate. It's his whole thing. Seeing you fight for your dignity, your body- Tossing everything and anything you can to try and slow this hulking beast, but deep down, he knows you know it's already over. He knows he's going to get his way and your running, screaming, kicking and punching only gets him more excited. Because, to Kalymir, sex is hunting. And you're exceptional prey. Crying, begging for mercy, slumping under him in utter defeat- Growing to worship him in time, all things Kalymir loves. Granted he wouldn't be as brutal to you as he was to past lays who meant nothing to him, the people who ended up shattered and lifeless from the brutality of his desire and the sadism that fuels him. If there wasn't a splatter of blood every single time Kalymir pistoned, then something was wrong.

Vesper. Such a sweetheart he is, so generous in his offerings- Until you recall that Vesper is the Icon of Lust, and lust is sometimes quite ugly. Vesper's violation of your will is subtle, peppered in perfumed pheromones and arousing lilts, suggestions of consent, illusions of desire. You will not deny him, because you cannot, he demands your carnality. Is Vesper capable of outright rape? Yes, that's how he fights, that's how he fulfills the fantasies of rotten people who strike deals with him, and Vesper does get aroused from his own vile actions. Does he prefer to trick you into thinking you want things? Yes, a lot more.

Morell. Another one who loves the hunt. But more than that, Morell is just a little too used to treating humans like a commodity rather than a person. All piggies kind of flail and whine about it, all of you make faces and get temperamental. What does it matter anyway? Play nice and let him make you squeal one last time before you end up on a platter... Although Morell will rape you in a non-lethal manner, he's infantilizing throughout it, trying to soothe you and shushing you, treating it like a dumb animal's tantrum. The damage is fixed with a few kisses and a nice meal, in his eyes.

Vinnel. Oh the sneering sadist. He wants you broken and crying beneath him, trying to hide your face and curl in on yourself, shaking like a leaf. He wants you covered in cuts and begging him to stop. What a pretty, pretty image you'd make, especially if put on display this way. But he's willing to be nice, oh very very nice, you just have to not get on his nerves. Very simple. His attention will still generally happen regardless of you wanting it or not, what changes is the degree to which he'll be relentlessly cruel in his assault. The more you suffer, the more he quakes in pleasure.

Nebul. Your will is secondary and you know this. Consent? No, you're a pet, he determines your consent, the same way he determines your entire routine. Punishments during his training oftentimes involve sexual assault, because it's brilliantly effective in drilling powerlessness into the minds of his victims, and your powerlessness is a drug that makes him feel oh so alive. Nebul likes that no matter how much you try, you're nothing but a puppet to his desires, and you will one day share them in a complementary fashion.

Patches. He feels very guilty about it, not that it makes it any better. It's not very often that it happens, but sometimes his own inability to take initiative or suceed in courting will have Patches erroneously casting his frustrations onto you and fantasies of rape flourish- Arousing him because of how cathartic they feel. Would he act on them? Only as an opportunist. Would Stitches outright rape? Oh yes, you're fucked with that one. Curiously, Patches also has vivid daydreams of you assaulting him, and the more degrading you are in his mind, the more he longs for it in real life.

Santi has enjoyed rape before. He's taken the sexual dignity of others before to make himself feel powerful, and it's something he won't do again. But sometimes, the thought rears its ugly head. Remnants of who he was, paired with a more sinister side of his nature.

Roch. A bit like Patches, he more so fetishizes the possibility of being taken advantage of while he sleeps. Roch enjoys the idea of being touched inappropriately or outright used by someone who stumbles upon him and simply decides to have the soft little imp all to themself. He doesn't tell you outright that you have permission to fuck him in most states, simply hopes that you'll be rotten enough to discard his consent entirely.

Ludwig. Like most wrath demons, rape is at the very least a semi-frequent fantasy. You're very lucky Ludwig happens to have more control over himself than most of his kin, but oh, that doesn't mean you're safe. While he will only harm you further if he has to, Lud does morbidly get off on intimidating you into performing sexual acts for him. Sometimes he doesn't even want penetration, he just wants to see the fear in your eyes while you bare yourself to him, touch yourself, suck him off, or just present and wait for a load on your ass.

Nick. She likes abusing her physical might. Ideally, she won't have to, but if it comes to that, Nicele gets a pretty big kick out of seeing you crumble to her commands. If she barks at you to ride her fingers, then you better. If she pushes your shoulders down and starts grinding her cunt on your face, then you better stay still and take it. Wouldn't want anything to break now, would we? Fear is a beautiful look on you.

Sybastian. Listen, it's a bit genetic in this case. Sybastian's used to snatching people. Careful not to trigger that instinct when he's trying to get frisky with you. It doesn't help that part of mimic sexual foreplay involves surprising their partner with sexual attention, so your initial flailing will only make him more enthusiastic because it signifies he succeeded in shocking you. He finds it fun and stimulating to overwhelm you, which makes gouging consent borderline impossible at times, and there are instances where he simply refuses to let go, therefore assaulting you.

(A lot of other characters are capable of rape but don't necessarily particularly get off on it.)

(Monsters who enjoy rape should not be confused with opportunists, which there are many here. These opportunists would not outright assault someone until the victim is vulnerable enough for the act to be performed, but they would take advantage of situations where they either know that you can't verbalize consent or lack thereof, situations where you may not recognize them, etc...)

Notable opportunists are: Breg; Lacai; Shags; Zizz; Livius; Flints; Jayde; Rinx; Nena; Obie; Belo; Vorago; Glauk; Colmei; Gallon; Fank-e.

[shadowqueenjude]

He was an asshole for this, but Eris had long since stopped caring. He knew that he had to do some bad things now so that he could overthrow Beron and prevent far worse things from happening later. As for bad things he’d done? This didn’t even make the list.

It wasn’t hard to drug the shadowsinger and drag him away. Eris had already caught him once before, and he hadn’t changed his tactics since. Fool.

When the Inner Circle’s janitor woke up, he began to struggle. Predictable, but Azriel could do nothing against his restraints.

“You,” Azriel growled, trying to throw himself at Eris, chair and all.

“Me,” Eris replied calmly. He took a sip of his wine.

“What, you planning to kill me?” he snarled, rattling the chair with his struggles. Eris rolled his eyes.

“That would be counterproductive, wouldn’t it? Would rather ruin my alliance with your court.” He placed his glass down and steepled his fingers in front of him. “No on the contrary, I’ve taken a special interest in you, Shadowsinger.”

Azriel’s face was filled with a ferocity that promised a slow death to Eris. Eris merely tsked at the expression.

“Anger does not suit you, Azriel,” Eris purred. “You lose all your pretty boy features.”

“SHUT UP!” Azriel roared, shaking the chair again. “I fucking hate you.”

Eris sighed. “Funny that you turn your hatred towards me when it is your companions you ought to despise.”

Azriel’s eyes narrowed on him. “What the fuck do you mean?”

Eris shrugged. “It’s not my fault I was engaged to marry Mor. I was a mere child then, powerless to do anything to stop it. I didn’t want it any more than Mor did, only I didn’t dare disobey my father while Mor disobeyed hers. She got punished for it. Got nails all over her body. But had I brought her over that Autumn court border to heal her…she would’ve suffered a fate worse than death. She would’ve become Beron’s servant. Like me. Forever.”

Azriel said nothing. He knew Eris was right, even though Eris was sure he was loathe to admit it. Eris continued, “But your best friend, that brutish general, slept with Mor while knowing what the costs may be, while knowing that you were in love with her.” He laughed lowly. “Some friend, huh?”

Azriel still said nothing, but Eris could sense the target of his anger shift. He was being convincing then.

“How much do they truly respect you? Forcing you to do their dirty work. Making you torture people because they’re too squeamish to do it themselves, even though Rhysand possesses daemati powers and needn’t resort to torture. Isn’t it triggering, considering the torture you went through in your youth?

At last, Azriel said something. “Yes,” he whispered.

“You are the outsider there,” Eris continued. “Both of them mated to Archerons, yet the third Archeron sister belongs to my brother. Don’t you feel rather left out? Like you’re not truly a part of their group? Who there really understands the anger you keep rooted deep inside?”

Pain and sorrow flickered across Azriel’s face, and Eris stood up, stalking over to him and leaning before him. “But I understand,” Eris murmured. “I understand, because it’s the same anger I shove deep down inside because I am under Beron’s thumb. We are the same, you and I. But if you come with me, if you help me overthrow Beron, you won’t be so powerless anymore. You won’t need to hide the anger inside. We’ll finally be free.”

Azriel swallowed. “What would you have me do?” he asked. Eris smirked, resting his hand on his face, rubbing his thumb against his lips. Azriel’s cheeks turned red at his touch. “Spy on your friends for me. I want to know how much they’ve been keeping from me. And then in a month…you quit and join me.”

Azriel raised a brow in challenge as he stared Eris down. “I still fucking hate you,” Azriel muttered.

Eris chuckled. “You’re a fool if you think I care, shadowsinger.”

But Eris knew Azriel was lying. Azriel didn’t hate Eris. Not really. Not like he hated himself.

Just like Eris.

For day 4 of @azrisweek free day