#he ended by taking off his mask...and yet still keeping his identity hidden | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

moongumi · 3 years ago

Text

BAD GIRL.

pairing: gen narumi x f!reader

⟶ cw. camgirl!reader, fanboy!narumi, fluffy humour, flirting, smut, oral

sypnosis: narumi uses his fame and power to get his favourite camgirl to meet him o.O

⟶ wc. 2.7k

a/n: not proofread or edited, just wanted to indulge on some cute and fun narumi

Small whimpers and high pitched overexaggerated moans barely slips out of his headset. Chowing down on his overpriced honey butter chips and sipping on too sugary redbull, Gen Narumi couldn't keep his eyes off the screen.

He could tell, the girl was acting for the audience. Those noises were so fake, he'd laugh everytime she made them and a creepy loner would type in some cringey exposé, expressing their love to her. She'd never notice such dudes, she only notices their money and did that money just keep coming in. Narumi imagined all the amazon deliveries she'd get if she spent all of that.

Narumi didn't care that she was acting, playing it up for the viewers. All he cared about is that she's hot, so fucking hot. She couldn't fake how wet she gets, the way she cums, she probably could but why would she do that. She always likes to take her time, edging herself and all.

Even though she was hot, he only knew how hot her body was. Unlike most camgirls, this one hid her face, half her face. Her eyes would piece through his core whenever she'd touch herself. He couldn't even count how many times he came with just one look she made, just a flicker does the trick.

A knock on his door made him slip one of his headphones off, "What?"

"You've got a meeting in 30." Narumi's vice captain told him, his response was just a loud groan. Sadly, this means he'd have to cut her stream short. Fuck. She only streams every once in a while, this girl had no schedule and just streamed whenever. She claims she does it when she's horny, he bets it because she's in school still. The schedule matches up, plus the identity hidden, makes sense. She'd make a lot more if she showed her face, must've just been a side hustle.

Narumi could only hold his grievances, and focus on making himself bust a load before attending the meeting. Luckily for him, the girl was ending her stream.

She didn't even cum yet...

"Sorry guys, I just realised I have something due tomorrow and that I'm an absolute idiot who forgot and now can't cum because of stress." You're blushing as you twiddled your fingers on stream, watching all the people sending messages asking for you not to leave and a lot understanding and even relating, "Don't worry, I promise when I'm done tonight I'll come back, okay? Maybe like in the ams though so stay up for me? See ya later."

You send kisses before ending the stream, and dropping onto your plush bed with a large exhale. "Fuck my life."

You did have that assignment, you did not lie. Blowing a raspberry through your lips you huff and get off your bed. You crack your knuckles and get to work by changing into a plain hoodie and shorts.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

It was time to give up and cry. Yes, you've managed all you could and could not be bothered any longer to do your essay. If anything all you could think about was getting back on stream and leeching money off ratty men.

Which is exactly what you did.

This time deciding to do it on your table with your setup, not bothering with setting up your bed and laptop. This was just simpler, plus you were sure there weren't going to be many viewers due to the time.

3.50 AM

Preparing only with a mask on covering the lower part of your face, only your eyes were the focal point for your audience. After all, you'd die if someone noticed you in school or something.

Immediately as the red button pops up on your screen, chatters streamed in. Simple hellos and compliments started it off. Then they noticed your attire, the same hoodie.

You hummed, rolling your eyes, "Guys, come on it's like basically bedtime. Can't a girl be comfy?"

It was sort of your thing, to tease and taunt your audience. Most of your followers were probably subs or guys who liked getting told what to do since you rarely did what they asked and god, did they eat up your bratty persona.

"I did finish my essay," You start, "Sorta. I did what I could and gave up."

Playing with the strings on your hoodie as you looked at the webcam with siren eyes, you answered more and more questions, "Hmm, I'd love if you came and did my homework for me, I'd even reward you for your kindness."

Wow, they loved that.

You leaned closer to the mic and asked, "Who wants my hoodie off? It's sort of hot in here now...even though it is winter. I never got to finish earlier."

You stood, only your body in frame now. Peeling the hoodie off in a painfully slow pace, your shorts have hiked up and they could basically see the outlines of your ass cheeks between your legs. Your hips, waist then covered tits showed. The hoodie disgarded.

You sit back down, pressing your boobs together purposefully. Just a plain bra you work, comfort over everything at the moment. It is sort of the trend, girl next door. Fully fabricated overly sexual girls who showed all right away weren't the biggest on this app, left nothing to imagine or dream for. Plus, why give it for so little when you could do private shows and make them pay hundreds.

A comment stuck out more than most and you replied, "What do you think of the Defense Force?"

"That's so random," You laughed, "They do their job, I guess but I can't care less."

Which wasn't a complete lie, the defense force members are just like the police or firefighters. Sometimes you think it's probably the way they're advertised, the media aways posted about Mina Ashiro and all about how hot she is and not all she does for our country. She deserves a lot more respect. Then theres that first division captain, super arrogant and cocky guy, you didn't even know his name. Just remembering something about him being the strongest.

"Do idolize any?" You were confused, "Like one of the members? Nah."

"Why?"

You huff crossing your arms, "They're not that special, but I do like Mina. But there's that captain of the first division he's an absolute dick."

Most of the chat agrees with you but you notice the one chatter who stood out only to you.

nahnahgen: gen narumi?

nahnahgen: he's like hot right?

"I guess he is hot," You nod, "But that's all. Seems like a prick."

Gen Narumi's mouth drops, his fingers still on the keyboard. God, he wanted to slam his entire strength on it and break it right now. What did she mean, a prick? He needed to know more.

Typing quickly.

nahnahgen: a prick? elaborate

On Narumi's screen you chuckle, eyes not leaving the screen. Even now he was more focused on your answer than those jugs on your chest.

You think it over before continuing, "Well, he's like super fame hungry right? I heard he was like telling kids to tweet that he's super cool after he saved them from a Kaiju. He seems to have some moral issues and plus mid fight the guy tells kids to tweet about him instead of helping them get to safety? Seems pretty dicky to me."

Narumi fumed seeing the chat agree. He needed to prove her wrong, he wanted to prove her wrong.

nahnahgen: if he's good looking, isn't that enough?

"Like enough to... fuck?" You hum, "Yea, I'd fuck him but that's it, haha, probably would be a one-time thing. Maybe he's one of those guys who act like their dicks are huge and then they have like a micro-penis or something."

He sees red, he grits his teeth. My dick is not a small! He really wanted to prove it. He'd do anything to get your cocking on his dick, begging for him and proving you wrong in every which way.

"The guys probably never even had pussy in his life," You teased, "He seems like the type to never give oral. Literally seems like he'd just cum and leave."

Well, fuck you. Narumi hissed.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Sitting in one of your lectures you were typing away on your phone to your bestfriend and looking at places to have lunch.

Ding!

Huh? That's weird. You were getting a text through an app even though you don't let people text you unless...you were following them.

GenNarumi has requested to chat with you!

Okay? You accepted, there was no harm right. You weren't even sure if this was the actual Narumi.

GenNarumi has shared a photo with you!

You open the photo to see, a middle finger. What the fuck? This dude really went out of his way to send you, a nobody a photo of his middle finger?

Typing a response right away.

you: Why did you just send me a middle finger?

GenNarumi is typing...

GenNarumi: Cuz I can.

you: aight

Aight? Narumi's eyes widened. That's all you said, and that was all you said since an hour ago. You were ghosting him already. He had to bite his tongue and send you another message.

GenNarumi: you streaming today?

you: huh?

GenNarumi: are you streaming today?

you: i know what you said :P you don't need to rephrase that shit

GenNarumi: oki so answer it

you: stream what?

GenNarumi: the stuff you stream

you: like what?

GenNarumi: idk, the stuff you streamed last night

You stomach sunk, did he actually? He knew, he watches you?

you: WHAT THE FUCK

you: IM LITERALLY GOING TO BLOCK YOU RN

GenNarumi: WAIT WHAT DONT

GenNarumi: Y/N! DONT

You didn't know what to say, but it seemed like he had something to say as he started to call you? You pick up, but say nothing. Holding the phone up to your ear.

"Heey," Narumi spoke, "Don't block me."

You huff but whispering, "Why would I not? How do you know?"

He chuckles lowly, "Why are you so quiet? And what do I know?"

He was teasing you. Playing with you, the thing is there was no way this was a misunderstanding. You streamed last night and talked about Narumi and he texts you the next day, seems convenient.

"I'm in class," You sigh, "You know about my fucking streams and I talked shit about you last night."

"Wait class? What kind class, hold up, how old are you?"

You laughed, sensing how nervous he got, "I'm legal weirdo. I'm in my lecture."

"Oh, fuck thank god." The way he said that was strangely hot, you've only every head the way he spoke on tv, hearing it right in your ears was a whole different experience.

"What do you want anyway?" You ask, "I've got things to do."

"Pft, as if you're actually paying any attention to that class, plus I'm the one with the busy schedule you know saving lives and being cocky about it."

Ok, no need to remind you about your little bashing last night. "I'm going to block you."

He gasps, "Oh my god, don't! Ok, you see you said some mean stuff last night." He was being dramatic, pretending to wipe a tear from his eyes.

"I'd just like a chance to prove you wrong."

You hummed, slightly confused, "How would you do that?"

"Well, you said I have a small dick and can't treat a girl right," He said, lowly, "I can prove it wrong."

Somehow this made your lower half tingle, as if it wasn't hot enough in this room already. "Can we talk about this later?"

"That sounds like a yes," He says, probably smirking or something, "But okay, I'll text you."

With that he hangs up, knowing he's got the upper hand on you. You get a buzz and a phone number is sent to you. God, this wasn't just a cruel joke.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

It wasn't like you to go outside but since it was right after class you decided to take a long walk in a random park. In this kinda weather everyone was out enjoying the last bit of the sun before the sun sets.

And that's when you get a text, a text you dreaded.

GenNarumi: Sup

Could he have said anything less annoying. Maybe you were just annoyed.

you: what do you want

GenNarumi: sheesh, no need for your stinky attitude

you: answer it

GenNarumi: you?

you: cheesy try something better

GenNarumi: what? i want you, that's all i've got

you: why? you want some random girl you found on a cam website, you some kind of perv? are you catfishing me?

If Narumi could laugh any harder he would.

GenNarumi: answer the phone

You did as he said when the call came through.

"What?"

Narumi laughs through the phone sending shivers down your spine, it only had been a couple hours since you heard his voice but shit, he had a nice voice, "Is that how you start every conversation we have?"

"Every conversation with you is sus, I'm suspicious of you," You explained, walking over towards an empty swing set as the sun had begin to disappear from the sky.

He sighs, seemingly fumbling through a bag or something loudly, "Look, I'm not a catfish. I've verified on this app! I'm calling you! Haven't you heard my voice on tv before?"

"To be honest, people my age don't really watch tv," You said.

Narumi gasps, "Are you saying I'm old?"

"No," You shrug, pushing yourself back and forth with your feet, "I'm saying if you're referring to me having seen you on tv that's unlikely for anyone my age...to have seen such an old guy on tv."

You smile knowing that he'd bound to be shocked again. "You're so rude!"

"Sheesh, and I thought I liked you."

You heart races, liked you? You clear your throat, "What do you mean?"

"I mean what I said, I like you," He explains.

You sigh, "I know what you said but you're going to have to elaborate."

"I like to enough to want to show you my dick, come on, isn't it obvious?" Well it was but after all he's a famous hero and you were a borderline pornstar.

He notices how you can't come up with a response.

"I'll show you how much I like you, if you let me."

You chuckle, "How would you do that, Narumi?"

With that, you see a strange figure step our in the mellow darkness only lit by some park lights and the solar lights on the ground. Gen Narumi steps out in casual attire, dropping his phone into his pocket as he walks towards you. You had to be dreaming right, this seemed impossible.

"Did you track my phone?"

Narumi shrugged, "Maybe I did."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The chains on the swing set rattle against its frame. The grass must've been freshly cut since it was digging into your knees as if they were little tiny razor blades. The only thing distracting you enough from raging was the groans being let out by division one's captain.

Your lips swollen around the shaft of his cock, his tip hitting the back of you throat occasionally enough for you to gag on it. "God, you're pretty with tears down your face."

If you could smile through your filled mouth you would, god, he was so good at talking sweet when fucking your throat.

He sat on one of the swing chairs somehow it didn't move much with his legs spread and pants down to his ankles. He didn't lie, he did have a big dick.

He swiftly moves your hair away off your shoulders, holding them up to get a good view but it wasn't like he was looking much- he couldn't. Narumi couldn't help but throw his head back from pleasure every so often.

After his velvet tip leaves your lips he pulls you up, sitting you on one of his thighs and his lips immediately encased yours, wet, soft and hot. It was like he was swallowing you whole.

"Narumi, we're-"

"Gen, don't call me Narumi only my colleagues call me that," He interrupts, biting your lips before he let you go. "Especially don't call me that when I'm balls deep inside of you."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

#narumi smut #narumi fluff #narumi x reader #kaiju no8 x reader #kaiju no 8 smut #gen narumi smut #narumi gen smut #gen narumi x reader

255 notes · View notes

ameliajessicawilliamspond · 3 years ago

Text

PART 1

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

"Where is this blasted thing?" Luke complained, opening the map for the tenth time in the last 10 minutes.

"Same distance as the last time you checked the map." Din mused. Luke pursed his lips and closed the map, pulling his coat tighter around himself. He and Luke had done many missions together, both searching for what the remnants of the fallen Empire wanted with Grogu and the Jedi, as well as Luke's never ending search for more information on the strange ancient religion.

"You alright?" Din asked. Luke had been fidgety and testy the whole trip to Kajimi and had become downright orny ever since they stepped foot on the planet.

Luke huffed in frustration, shoving his nose into his scarf. "I'm not a fan of the cold." he mumble from beneath the fabric.

"Yeah I picked up on that." Din said, an amused huff escaping his lips.

Luke shot the Mandalorian a hard side glance, like a teenager throwing a fit. Luke always kept himself so stoic and distant, a protective mask from everyone around him. Seeing it slip because of some cold weather made his heart do a funny little flip. Yet the other side of him knew it obviously upset the Jedi so he stopped pressing him. He slipped his own scarf off and wrapped it around the jedi's neck. Luke looked at him incredulously but the Mandalorian just shrugged. "I run warm."

A while on -and lots of huffing and puffing from the Jedi later- they finally began to approach their destination.

"The holocron should be inside this cavern." Luke mumbled from beneath the scarves, nose burried in the holomap.

"Waterfall." Din corrected.

"...Cavern." Luke repeated, not looking up.

"Yeah...under a waterfall." Din said, pointing ahead. Luke finally looked up and saw what Din meant. a cavernous mouth to a cave, beneath a huge, freezing waterfall, billowing into a cold, deep lake.

Luke's blue eyes bulged. "Kriff."

The pair snuck up the side of the embankment with just enough distance to be able to avoid falling into freezing water below.

Luke hit a slippery patch amd let out a yelp as his foot slipped. Din reacted quickly, yanking the Jedi back up to the snowy embankment, the momentum putting them nearly nose to nose with each other. Din's breath seemed to catch in his throat as Luke sucked in a breath himself, his bright eyes locked with Din's visor.

"No falling behind." Din said, shaking Luke from whatever stupor just grasped him. The jedi nodded and they pressed forward, carefully approaching the ice cold waterfall.

"Seems there's no going around it." Din said, pressing forward but Luke grabbed his arm.

"Wait." he said, voice demanding yet gentle as the jedi stepped in front of him, eyes rolling back in his head. His hand shot up, palm open toward the falls.

Din stared in awe as the waters parted like a curtain. "Go." Luke said, eyes still closed. Din slipped around him and jumped into the hidden cave. Luke followed like a blind man, hand extended and eyes closed, but shoulders squared with determination, confidence in each step. Once in, he finally opened his eyes and dropped his hand. The waters slammed shut behind them.

Luke spotted Din staring, unmoving at him. "What?" He asked, slightly bashful.

What could he say? He was in awe of Luke and his abilities? Luke always surprised him? He was so beyond what Din could ever be himself? Luke was...Luke was amazing. "I wish you could teach me that." Is what he ended up settling on.

Luke let out a small laugh, lips parting into a smile and despite the cold, Din felt a warmth spread through his chest. "Come on," Luke said, taking the lead. "The holocron should be straight ahead."

They finally were right on top of where the holocron should be. But in its place was a giant hole in the side of the cave wall where it had been hidden. Luke dropped his head. "No..." he whispered to the ground.

"Smugglers or pirates, most likely. The Spice Runners of Kajimi are in this area." Din said, examining the square hole.

"They probably sold it by now." Luke said, arms flailing in an 'of course' sort of gesture. "Its long gone, probably has been for a long time."

"Not nessesarily. These are new markings on this. It would have been within the last week they found this. " Din said, trying to ease the already frustrated Jedi's mind. Luke rubbed his forehead. "If we find their camp we may be able to relocate the device."

"...Alright Fine." Luke said, biting his cheek, clearly irritated. "We're never getting off this frozen rock." He mumbled, rubbing his arms as be began to march back to the mouth of the waterfall.

"Hey," Din called, rushing to block the jedi's path. Luke avoided his helmet's gaze as Din finally grasped him by the shoulders. "Luke, talk to me."

Luke fidgeted in his grasp, looking anywhere but his visor. His eyes finally settled on the destroyed hole where the holocron had been, eyes distant.

"I'm from a desert planet." He began. "Tattooine."

"I'm familiar." Din said, earning a slightly surprised glance from the jedi.

"I'm...I'm already not used to the cold. And then later on in the war we were stationed on Hoth." Luke shifted from one foot to the other, obviously contimplating if he wanted to continue. "I was out on last patrol when I was attacked by a Wampa."

"You were attacked by a Wampa and survived?" Din questioned.

Luke just shrugged, and Din could tell that, somehow, being attacked by a kriffing Wampa wasn't even at the worst part of this story. "I escaped, but by the time I did it was approaching nightfall and the winds had picked up. There was snow everywhere, all I could see was white in front of me and I...I was so cold..." Luke pulled out of Din's grasp and turned away. "I fell. I fell and didn't get back up. Ben wanted me to go to Dagobah but... I was so sure I was going to die there." Din stepped forward, placing his hand on his shoulder. "Han found me. Stuffed me in his dead Tauntaun to keep warm while he built a shelter. I smelled like rotting flesh for a week...and..." Luke sniffed, pulling himself together. "...And the next day the Empire attacked and I got shot down. My co-pilot Dak didn't make it... I lost a good friend." Luke said, looking at Din, eyes distant.

Din spun Luke around and pulled him in for a tight hug. "I'm sorry. That sounds awful." He offered.

Luke tensed for a moment before melting into the hug. They stayed like that for a long time before Luke finally broke the silence. "You do run warm." He mumbled into his shoulder.

Din laughed. "Come on, let's find those blasted smugglers and get off this rock."

They went back to the cave entrance, Luke reaching foward, parting the waters once again. Din stepped through before Luke's eyes snapped opened and yelled, "No, Din, WAIT--!"

Before Luke could finish, something wrapped around his leg and yanked him into the lake below.

Din sunk below the water, waterlogged vision spotting a large monster with at least 5 tentacles keeping him below the surface. He reached for his blaster, shooting at the monster. It made a noise and the grip on his leg disappeared. Din swam with all his might back to the top, grabbing on to Luke's extended hand.

Another tentacle shot up, latching around his torso and pulling him below once again. Above him, he saw a green laser appear as the jedi ignited his lightsaber as another tentacle shot up above the water toward him. He sliced at it, making the thing bellow once again. The grip on Din loosened but not enough for him to pull out of the tight grasp.

A splash from above caught the Mandalorian's attention. Luke was swimming right toward the creature. Din squirmed and fought to free his arms so he could shoot it again but he was weakening by the second. Through greying vision he watched the Jedi reach forward and touch the monster's head, the scarf Dinnhad given him dangling from his back pocket. Din felt the grip around him loosen too late as water filled his lungs and his vision went dark.

The next thing he knew he was back on the bank of the lake. Luke was above him, coat missing, soaking wet, and leaning over his him, lips having just left his own. Din thought he had to be dreaming or dead until he felt the aggressive shoving on his chest. His ringing ears picked up on Luke begging him to breathe.

He tried to inhale, but instead was greeted with a coughing fit, water spilling from his lips before finally managing a small, shaky breath.

"Oh thank the Force." Luke breathed out, head dropping. "We need to get you somewhere warm." Luke said, pulling the coat he once wore up Din's chest, tucking it around him.

Before Din could attempt to object, something grabbed the Jedi's attention. His head whipped to the side and his eyes widened. "Kriff!" Luke shoved Din's helmet back on him before throwing his arms up in a defensive stance, hand shaking violently. "Please, we don't want any trouble. He hurt! He needs to go somewhere warm! Please!" Luke begged, but his pleas seemed to land of deaf ears. Hand decended on the Jedi and pulled him from where he kneeled next to the Mandalorian. "No, no!!" Luke yelled as he was dragged away from Din's side.

Din shifted, rolling onto his stomach, trying to call for Luke but instead earning himself another coughing fit. From his new position he could see Luke strugglnng witn a large group of people. Din couldn't tell if Luke was holding back because he didn't want to reveal his identity to these scoundrels or because he was still trying to beg them for help, but either way the large group finally overpowered the jedi. They pinned his arms out wide and his head was shoved violently to the side, a needle shoved into his neck. Luke tensed before slumping in their grasp. Din tried to reach for something, anything, any weapon but couldn't find the strength to even lift his hand.

"Leave that one. He's as good as dead." The group laughed.

Din watched as Luke was carried away like he was nothing more than stolen loot.

"L...Luke..." Din managed, before his frozen body slipped into unconsciousness.

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

REQUESTED TAGGED: @theonlyredcar

Comment below if you would like to be tagged in part 2!

#dinluke #star wars #prompt: almost drowning/hypothermia/PTSD #part 1 #fanfiction #fanfic #luke skywalker #din djarin #din djaren #the Mandalorian #mandalorian #poor din #luke gets in next #sorry in advance #fun stuff too and soft moments #but also pain #stay tuned

82 notes · View notes

savnofilter · 4 years ago

Text

Kinktober Day 8

dabi

☠️ warning(s): 𝕦𝕟𝕚𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕞𝕤, chikan, exhibition, voyeurism, anal, humiliation kink, age difference, con-dubcon.

☠️ genre: smut, holiday special.

☠️ words: 3k [12 minutes, 10 seconds].

☠️ read more: kinktober(uary)

☠️ summary: after a long day of university youre coerced into giving him a show... along with the rest of the passengers on the metro train.

It was almost perverse on how much he enjoyed this. Scratch that, it is perverse. It was the hidden secret that even with leaving his old lifestyle he fucked his younger sister’s best friend. None of his family knew of his existence for a million reasons that weren’t going to be met in this story. Yet he didn’t care. As long as he had you still crawling back to him was enough to satisfy his dark desires without a care in the world. Except for the fact even with him accidentally running into you and somehow starting the dangerous entanglement was beyond him.

Just like right now. He wasn't expecting to see you pile into the train with the same uniform you wore for your school, your body begging for him to claim his prize while at the same time telling everyone to go fuck off. Dabi knew his objective as soon as he saw you, moving in to fill the missing gap you needed to be occupied. The train started to move once you got comfortable, your body posture meek as you raised your hand to hold onto the bars, the other holding your cute little school bag close to your body. Even with the clear embodiment of your school uniform dressing your shoulders and left chest it was clear you were nothing more than a university student, the only thing making you look so… delectable being the way you had filled it out.

Now, had you been someone else a stranger to Dabi he wouldn’t have looked your way but seeing as you were rocking just ever slightly, the fabric of your clothing rising just a bit higher is what piqued his interest. It gave him an almost unpleasant tenseness in his chest, knowing that this was a combo you rarely wore unless something was wrong in the laundry or it was your last backup. He didn’t miss the creeps that eyed you, his dark aura shooting them off as he made them think twice.

He’d just have to show them something that they’re missing.

Dabi stepped closer to press up against your smaller frame, the feeling of him catching you off guard. You swallowed as you could feel his body, the bumps, and ridges of his outfit signature with his familiar scent you were used to washing over you with a wave of relief, holding back the need to smile as you peeked back at him with an almost glad look on your face.

“I thought you were someone else.” You spoke fluently. He chuckled as you looked as if he had saved the day as if he wasn’t the villain between you two. He moved his head to nuzzle your neck, his hands wrapping just under your breast and pressing his hips into yours.

“You should be glad I saved you~,” Dabi remarked in a smug tone. You could feel your cheeks heat at the gesture. Whether or not the blood flow showed up on your cheeks wasn’t a concern to you at the moment, the small suspicion that his little small talk wasn’t going to end as innocently as it had started. You bit your lip as his arms aided in pressing your chest against you’re already tight button up. “Heroes get presents, right?” The pressure created a small gap to accentuate, showing bits of your bra and skin that was underneath.

“Wh-What are you doing?” You stuttered as the small attention that one time was brought away from you was slowly coming back, making you shrink back into him as your false safe haven.

“Nothing,” Dabi mumbles against the skin of your neck, the train hitting a more than convenient bump on the track. You whimpered as you rubbed your thighs together, as much you tried to hide it you loved it when people watched you like this. Even though with your attempts to dress as if the thought of sex never crossed your mind you couldn’t help but start to get aroused at the thought of Dabi using you on a train like this for perverts to watch. He chuckled as he could feel your breath start to deepen, keeping your head down as you tried to conceal yourself with the arm that carried the weight of your bag.

Dabi was starting to get bored. His hand came up to dance across the fabric of the button, playing coy before tugging the other side from the other and popping the buttons in the process. Quietly gasped once he had done so, your chest now being partly bared to the world… much to your pleasure. Your tits strained at your bra, the smooth bumps of the train not making it better for your “cause”.

“Stay still for me, doll, okay~?” He whispered against your ear, the sound of his voice making you shiver. You couldn’t help but nod meekly, not daring to look up at the mixture of disapproval and horniness that started to fill the train. His hand scooped up into your bra and brought your tits out into the public view, your nipples rock hard as you tried to keep up your little act to convince yourself you weren’t getting turned on by this.

But you were.

The excitement alone was starting to make you drip annoying as it was.

Dabi already knowing you were, his hands left your upper body, coming up under your skirt and shirking your underwear. There was clear dampness on the thin fabric, the embarrassment of it all going straight to your clit. You whimpered as the air caressed your now exposed intimate bits. His hand came up to cup your sex, letting a sound of surprise at the feeling of your drenched lips against his fingers. “Oh? The bitch is wet~” He mused happily, slipping two fingers into you happily. The sound of his middle and ring fingers slipping into you made an obnoxious noise, your thighs quivering as his fingers were always able to find well inside your needy cunt. His fingers were quick in working in you, his main objective only to have you wet enough to take his already aching cock. Your back arched as you encouraged him to continue in using you as he pleased, his hand making a move to help open your shirt more and pull down your bra fully. Any eye who wanted to watch could, watching as this patched man toyed with this innocent girl on the train.

His fingers left your cunt to give it a small slap, not holding on to the force or ferocity of it. The feeling made you yelp, the sound of both gaining new watchers while some chose to ignore it. Your breathing was heavy as people eyed you, probably wishing that Dabi would do the world some justice and rip off the tiny skirt that you had also worn that hid all the good bits. All they could see was him teasing you and being able to use you the way you were supposed to be used.

“Come on, scarface, pass her over-”

“Fuck off and watch.” He cuts off the loser hastily, his glare glaring at them to let them know to keep away still. “You think any of you greasy fucks can touch her,” He started before he side-eyed you, his famous grin spreading across his mouth when the thought of having these bastards touch upon you was something you wanted. “Hm… maybe the bitch wants it~? Use your word’s, doll~” He taunts, turning you around so your front is pressed against him. Your bag dropped as you braced yourself against him, your legs stabling yourself against him. “If you don’t use your words I’m assuming it’s a no.”

You bit your lip as you at least wanted to keep some of your dignity. Nowhere in your life did you think you were going to be able to live out your fantasy to be used on a public train for anyone and everyone to see, the helpful tool of your mask only concealing your identity as if something was looking out for your well being… as if. His hand flipped up your skirt and exposed the last parts no one else on the train had been able to see but him. Your face buried into his neck once he did the action, your ass now on display with your dripping cunt peeking through the small gap between your legs. Dabi's hands reached back from your waist and grabbed the cheeks apart, showcasing the part between your legs and glistening cunt. He looked over your shoulder to watch as your asshole clenched in excitement, your position looking no better than a bitch in heat. There were a few mutters and mumbles as he displayed you, the original action surprising you.

“D-Dabi-” Your plea was cut off by his hand coming up and tugging your mask down and pressing his lips against yours. His tongue was already violating your mouth, growling as his hand lifted and of slaps against your unmarked skin. Each time your thicc backside jiggled and teased with what was really between it, your eyes watching up at his. The feeling was oddly intimate as if he wasn’t exposing you to the train for voyeurism perverts alike. He pulled away once he had felt satisfied enough, dragging you to sit in his lap once he was sitting in a seat. He tucked your skirt into its band to prevent it from blocking from view, the sound of a few shutters sounded as some went to get a close up of your mostly trimmed cunt, the fact that both your cunt and asshole still had some on it was more arousing to the public eye. Which is what Dabi liked.

His hands found their way to unbuckle his pants and free his hard cock. If the sparse amount of women on the train were loathing not being in your position and only silently observing, they now were jealous. His cock slapped against your cunt once it was free from his tight pants, the hardness of it making it stick up proudly. He tries to hold back his pleasure of letting people his manhood as well, the Prince Albert piercings doing his already impressive cock justice in turning this debaucherous situation exciting.

He thrusts his hips upwards to rub his cock against your soaked labia, a deep moan sounding when he’s able to slip his cock to rub just ever so slightly between the cheeks of your ass. His hands were on your ass again, spreading them as he guided to take his length. Have already been able to take his cock during the late nights and sometimes early morning you had no problem doing so. Your heartbeat was faster as someone commented on how his dick was able to insert inside of you without any problem or hesitation, the onlookers wanting nothing more than to stick their girths deep inside your ass. Your hips worked like magic against his. His just about average-sized hands spread your cheeks to let people view without any obstruction to the view the passengers in the cart watching as they watched this generations of future heroes get dicked-down in a train cart. You had no qualms about letting out the sounds you wanted, your hands gripping onto his jacket as he bounced you against his hard cock. Dabi wrapped his arms around your waist to keep you in place and fuck you.

Your ass jiggled with each thrust against hips. The sound of your cunt swallowing up his cock as his silver studs massaged at your walls and rocked the moans out from your throat. It was almost a dream come true of what everyone had to witness at that very moment. Your words babbled out like an idiot, enjoying the way your body felt being watched as he used you like a cock sleeve. His hand held your ass cheek to help use you, the obnoxious sound of his skin slapping against yours and your sopping cunt fulling the train and the disgusting faint aroma you could sniff out if you were too close.

Dabi greatly got off to using you in public. Some sick way in the back of his head he enjoyed that people could see that you were his, even with how indirect it was. He longed for having you under his thumb, the thought and idea that one of the loser bystanders could do just that sent jolts of pleasure through him and motivated him to fuck you like this. Your mouth hung open as you could feel his tip press against your g-spot, your eyes rolling back and tongue hanging out of your mouth as trembled to keep yourself sane and grounded as he pounded into you like a hungry animal.

Still, those attempts were futile as he didn’t spare you a chance to even make you presentable, a small amount of drool that left the corner of your mouth signified just how gone you were, fully succumbing to the taboo of train groping and public fucking. Your body felt hot, the possibility of having your future ruined because of this was somehow exhilarating, the shallow comments of how much you were a ‘whore’ or a ‘slut’ made you tingle, loving every moment of being degraded and railed in public. You squeezed your walls around his thick and unrelenting cock, your skirt that was tucked still managed to stay in place as you bounced against him, the grip causing you to tense up.

He didn’t care to stop, ready to see you cum on his length and fill his seed deep inside you. It was almost as if he didn’t notice that you had, the only thing is when someone commented that white substance that came from you, the way your holes clenched and ground against his to finish. Your body was a toy for him as he used you, chasing his climax to meet yours. Thankfully your orgasm before had aided in the extra lubricant. He gave your skin a final pop before pressing his hips fully into your cunt, grunting as his cock twitched as he finished his load inside your walls. Your insides happily took in his length in cum, the excess amount making some spurt out as if a scene directly from hentai. I mean, technically this whole experience was a scene straight out of hentai.

“Look at the pretty little slut, full with my cum~” Dabi’s hands groped around your body before lifting you off his cock and spreading your cheeks to watch as the fluids dripped from your gaping cunt. He thought over his options, staring up at your dazed look, and brought you to hips down to rub his cock between your ass cheeks.

“What are you-” Your complaint trailed off once you could feel his tip slowly slip in, the rest of his length following in as well. Dabi gave you a playful kiss, having you take him fully until he bottomed out deep inside you.

“We’re going to give them part two~” He answers you curtly. His jaw clenched as he was able to keep down a groan of pleasure at how tight you wrapped around him. He barely gave you enough to get comfortable, the subtle feeling of his long and thicc cock thrusting into your ass was something you had only done a few times too little. Tears pricked at your eyes as you tried to adjust to his obnoxious length, closing your eyes as you were forced to have other people watch you get used to his cock.

As much as you tried to find it in yourself to be upset… you loved it. You like that you had an audience to watch Dabi stretch your ass out, not sparing you a moment to catch up or feel good. The feeling of him showing everyone on that train your practically virgin hole was being used for the third time in your life. This time, it wasn’t with the help of lube either. You clung onto him like an injured kitten, trying to relax yourself to allow him to use your backhole as much as he wanted.

“That’s it…” He encourages once you loosened up making it easier to slap his hips into yours better. Everyone got an eye full of your submission, wanting to touch and prod at you as well. You weren’t even sure you were deriving pleasure from this, the foreign feeling of his cock in your ass was such a feeling you couldn’t shake off but one that did urge sounds from you. You tried not to grow embarrassed when he pulled out to show off your gaping hole, the necessitous feeling of needing him to fill you up again crawling across your body. Your silent prayers were answered when he maneuvered you back onto his cock.

“I’ll have to use this one till it's just like your cunt~” He teases in your ear, rutting into you as he gets closer. His fingers dug painfully into your body, the hold on your side nearly knocking the wind out of you. He tilted his head to the side as his hips stuttered up into you and emptied into your second hole. You shifted uncomfortably at the feeling of his thick spurting into you was not a sensation you thought you would be experiencing for the day or truly ever. You grunted softly when you felt him pull out, his dick finally limp from the hormones that have been pumped out.

Dabi eyed your disheveled state before fixing what was left of your school uniform, keeping your pair of underwear with him as he shoves it in his pocket. He pushes you out of his lap making you stumble. Your hands come up to gather your stuff quickly as you realized your stop was approaching, have no liberty to be dazed. Your cheeks were hot as you tried to ignore the stares that both accompanied gazing under your shirt and skirt, gathering yourself to hold your shirt together and pull down your skirt. Your eyes followed the material that poked out his pocket, the train doors opening.

“I’ll give these to you next time we meet~”

891 notes · View notes

limitlessgojo · 3 years ago

Text

Blood Bound: Blackened Bond (Ch 14)

Warnings: Action, Coarse Language, Fighting, Descriptions of Blood

Previous SFW Chapter: Home Sweet Home

Previous Chapter NSFW!: The More You Know

Next Chapter: Shadows Fall

Tags: Soulmates AU, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Fem!Reader

Taglist: @lessie-oxj @rizzo-nero @whoreuc @fkngkumiko @isl3t @gojoussunglasses @onepotatostand-blog @s-t-f-u-b-i-t-c-h @sunaswife @lordguameow @track5enthusiast

Notes: If you want to be tagged for every update, and specify if you're okay with NSFW posts or not, please mention it in the comments below ty ❤

Extra Notes: This is my favorite chapter by far in this book, I've been wanting to drop this for weeks! I hope you enjoy reading. Part 2 of the story starts from here on until the end. Feel free to scream in the comments as usual XD

Chapter 14: Big White Lies

As the days passed by, the seasons changed. You started class in Spring. Summer has long passed and it is now the beginning of Winter. Noritoshi, as usual, was really busy so you didn’t see him as often. But you let it go.

You wanted to do something nice for him, so you had the idea to surprise Noritoshi. Having some cupcakes in a small bag and a fresh cup of coffee in your other hand, you were outside his door, hiding your presence and cursed energy to mask your identity.

As you raised your hand to knock on his door, you heard a second male voice.

"I'm glad to hear that you've been getting along with your soulmate son." His father's voice was heard over a speaker. Oh he was on call with his dad!

Yikes, not the best time to interrupt. It is impolite to listen into the conversation, but you were too excited to surprise him that you decided to wait for the call to end.

"Is Y/N really deeply in love with you? Make sure to not let her go. That will surely help our clan's reputation rise above with her skills being integrated into ours. She can definitely bear strong heirs for our clan. For centuries it was the Zenins that harnessed various types of jujutsu shi with strong techniques. It's time we continuously expanded ours as well. Starting with her." The Kamo clan head sternly ordered his son.

'Huh?'

"Yes of course father. Don't worry. She has already confessed her love to me so there's nothing to worry about. I'll do my best to make this clan proud and powerful. I definitely won’t let you down." Noritoshi replied.

The smile on your face slowly faded as your face turned to stone. Ah. Was that it?

Is that what you amounted to only? A tool for their use. A stepping stone for the Kamo clan to get stronger. You started to feel nauseous. Is this the so-called secret he didn’t want to tell you about…

You stood quietly as you continued eavesdropping.

"Excellent. Heh, looks like you can actually be a womaniser if you wanted to. Women are way too easy. As I told you before, give her sweet touches, use pet names, give her lots of encouragement and make promises here and there and they'll be by your side before you know it." His father snorted.

"Yes, I've taken your advice into consideration and did as you said." Noritoshi spoke firmly. Your heart was breaking with every word spoken.

"If you don't like her or how she looks, you can have several concubines and wives anyways. Have your pick. Remember Homura chan? Now she's a stunner. Didn’t you also say you found her cute?"

‘What on earth is this? Who is Homura? Why?’ Your hands start shaking badly, pulse thundering in your ears.

You felt light headed from the brutish words the Kamo clan head was saying, and silently retreated, not wanting to hear Noritoshi's response to his father. Keeping your presence and cursed energy hidden and as minuscule as possible while you walked back to your dorm room.

Because you had left you didn't hear the remainder of the conversation.

"Father, I respect that the older clan heads had several wives and concubines. And I’ve told you time and time again that I’m not interested in Homura san. But I've decided to be loyal to my one true soulmate. I think I am falling in love with her as well, and can't bear to see her hurt. I won't be taking in any concubines." Noritoshi politely replied.

It was the first time he had spoken about his true feelings out loud and he felt vulnerable. He braced himself for any harsh words from his father but none came.

His father only raised an eyebrow. "Suit yourself. The fact is, even if she doesn't give birth to an heir with the inherited Blood Manipulation, she is more than enough of an additional asset to our clan. And it ties us together with the Abe/Tsuchimikado clan as you know."

Clan politics. Noritoshi is getting more and more sick of it every day, but he just silently nodded. As long as he has you and his mother by his side, nothing else matters. "Yes I understand father."

Noritoshi hated talking about his family with you, because of this exact reason. He didn’t want you to be disgusted by this side of their family and get pulled into their family problems. The worst thing would be for you to have a terrible first impression of the Kamo clan.

He understood that you already had a lot on your plate as your missions grew harder and harder. You were often assigned to grade 1 missions alone already. The worst case was for you to get roped into doing messy tasks to please the clan elders.

◇◇◇

You paced around your room, staring at the cupcakes and coffee on your desk. They were getting cold.

Cold. That's how you felt inside and out. You had to confront him. Or else your relationship will just drag you down. You definitely didn't want him to have any concubines. Didn’t want to have a partner who didn’t love you after all.

You were so lost in your emotions that you didn’t realize you were jumping to several conclusions on your own without considering Noritoshi's feelings for you properly.

'But it was starting to make sense' Your mind was screaming at yourself. 'He never explicitly confessed his feelings. He does indeed give me mixed signals from time to time. He shuts me out of private matters to him. He could be using me.’

The one question that was breaking you apart now is: "Was everything a lie? How much of his actions were sincere? He could lie about anything. To get power, that's something the big 3 clans are capable of doing. Satoru told me of some of the horrors already…"

The doubt and feelings of betrayal piled up, until you came to one conclusion: You’ve had enough.

◇◇◇

The next day, you suppressed all your emotions and distracted yourself. You tried your best to act normal around Noritoshi, smiling brightly at him.

It wasn't too effective. Everytime he called you his angel, instead of the delight you usually feel, you felt hurt thinking he was forcing himself to do this.

This can't go on forever. And eventually Noritoshi could start to feel the pain in your heart on his end as well. He hurried to you one afternoon after class, dragging you out to the plum tree away from the buildings.

You looked up at Noritoshi. As handsome as ever. Gentle and concerned (lies), with a strong hand reaching to cup your face (lies lies), speaking so carefully, "My angel, how are you? Why are you troubled? Have I done something to offend you?" (Lies, it was all lies).

He must be lying. Must have been since day 1. The way your brain just jumped to the most terrible scenarios in which he never liked you. There's no other reason. Your breathing quickened.

Both of you were still in the first stage of the soulmate bonding; therefore, you couldn’t share all emotions yet. Just urgent and strong random flashes of it, especially negative emotions. This is why both of you weren’t able to feel the love the other has through the bond yet.

You stopped smiling.

"I overheard your conversation with your father. I'm sorry for eavesdropping, but I had a present for you that I wanted to give you yesterday, so I waited outside your room. But that doesn't really matter anymore." You said, cooly shrugging off the hand on your face.

He stiffened, whole body tensing. 'No it was going so well with you, this can't be happening.' He thought to himself.

"Y/n I can explain-"

"Did you even feel anything for me? Besides our red string of Fate appearing?"

The marks on your wrists flowed in warning, searing hot pain flashed across both of you. But you ignored it. The devil on your shoulder pushing you to break things with him.

"Tell me the words you and your father spoke about yesterday were a lie." You begged him.

He couldn't say it was, because the conversation yesterday was only filled with truths. He was so confused, so he stayed silent.

You laughed at him without any real meaning or humor. The light had gone out of your eyes. Noritoshi felt himself shiver at the sound of it.

"So it was all true. Did you like me for me? Or because I'm your so-called soulmate whom you forced yourself to “love”- pshhh not even love, probably to tolerate, for the sake of power?"

Noritoshi’s head felt unfocused and his palms were sweating.

“I’m just a fucking game to you huh Kamo?!” You were freely crying now. He winced at the use of his family name.

Noritoshi found that he couldn’t breathe properly, much less reply to you. He had never seen you like this. What’s worse is your intense fear, sorrow, and disgust towards him was radiating so strongly through your bond.

“No you’re not.” He could hardly get the words out with how hard he’s breathing. It actually felt like the red strings were tying themselves around his neck. You scoffed at him unbelievingly.

He trembled as he lifted both hands to cup your face, but you stepped out of his reach. His hands dropped.

"You liar. I don't want this. If you just want to use me for my body, and to use me for your gain and for your family's benefit only to toss me aside for other women, then I don't want it." You spoke hoarsely. Your entire body was stiff, hands cold and voice quivering.

Your bond was hanging by a thread. The emotions of pain and betrayal bleeding over and muddling the delicate bond.

"I'm out. Go find some other bitch to breed for your sake of your precious heirs. I don't care if we are a fated pair. If you don't wanna put even an ounce of trust and honesty into our relationship then just fuck off." You turned around and walked away.

"Wait, no I-" Noritoshi gasped out as he snapped out of his shock, but you didn't turn back. You walked faster trying to ignore the voice you loved hearing so much.

Even if it hurts to break apart from him now, it is better than to have your heart broken again and again by staying with him.

"Y/n I do care about you. I do think of you everyday. You’re not a game to me. Didn't you hear what I said yesterday?" He called out desperately, stepping forward.

You ignored him, digging your nails into the palms of your hands at the pain from your soulbond falling apart. 'I won't be fooled any longer'.

Your bond was screaming at you to turn around and believe him. To believe that everything you've felt with him these past few weeks were real. That he truly loved you.

"Listen to me!" Noritoshi cried out.

You halted in your tracks. "I'm nothing to you. If you want to have other women as your concubines, go ahead. I know you can pick up as many women as you want with your standing. You clearly don’t need me. So I don't need you." Your last 4 words are a harsh slap to his face.

Snap. And your bond was left barely hanging with the smallest red thread that stubbornly refused to let go. But the damage was done. He couldn't feel your emotions anymore as his head filled with white noise.

Panic overcame Noritoshi like never before. This wasn’t like his normal self. He didn’t let himself think about anything else, but to run and pull you back in his arms.

Until he was physically stopped by an invisible barrier. Your solid air barrier that blocks all sound and forms of matter on the other side, keeping him away from you.

“No, no, no, no. Y/n Come back! I’m sorry! Speak to me!” He cried, furiously pounding at the invisible wall between the both of you. But you couldn’t hear him, much less know how he is feeling. After all, you’ve ended it with him already.

After you left, he remained rooted to his spot. His forehead leaning against the barrier, tears streaming down his face, as he stared at the place where he saw your figure disappear. It wasn't long ago that he had just fallen in love with you.

Your warmth, your laughter, the touches you give to him. Now everything felt so cold. "But I need you." He whispered out, sounding so broken.

The last few wilted leaves of the plum tree fell, leaving it bare to the cold winter. He remembered the words in the soulmate records of the Gojo Clan. “A soulbond can be rejected.”

Maybe he should have told you everything from the beginning and not hold back any secrets. He was terrified that your opinion of him would change, if you found out about his background and his mother. So he wanted to slowly ease you into the Kamo clan.

This was the worst.

As the sky grew dark, he went back into his room and for the first time, didn't bother studying. Just went straight to sleep.

What he wouldn't give to feel anything from your end. Even if it was anger or hatred, it would be better than this empty feeling.

Author's Notes: This chapter was the first chapter I've written before all others and is how Blood Bound came to be. You could say this is the core of the story, since it's the origin. Just had an angsty afternoon one day and chose violence🥰🤧

Blood Bound: Table of Contents

#kamo noritoshi #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk fanfiction #noritoshi x reader #noritoshi x o/c #noritoshi x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x o/c #jjk x you #angst #fluff #blood bound #jjk angst #blackened bond

89 notes · View notes

all-might-can-smash-me · 4 years ago

Text

Masquerade

Hawks/Keigo Takami x Reader

Summary: you run into a man who helps you take a short break from the life of a party that could bore anyone to death, he says he has his own agency and struggles with people recognizing him, but that doesn’t ring a bell for you.

Masterlist

The sound of laughter, shuffling expensive fabric, obnoxiously loud conversations, and the smell of expensive beverages wasn’t quite your scene as you stood amongst a circle of people. You stood and listened to them boast and brag behind their little shades or masks that were there in hopes of masking their identities along with their hero names that may or may not have been flattering or embarrassing. Those awful conversations filled with champagne did not mix with the classical music that played from the live, mini sized orchestra either and it could almost make a cringe burden your face behind the simple masquerade mask you wore, but you always caught your emotions from glinting across your face, it was a skill that you needed to learn and master from a young age. That is what came from being conditioned by the commission itself you guessed from early on in your life. Guess you could chalk it up to being old habits that would forever stick to you.

“And you! You were elected as the commission’s designer right? So you get to play around with costumes for heroes all day? Play dress up?” Questioned one of the heroes in the little circle. It perturbed you a bit, you expected to go all night without anyone asking you questions and seemingly being passive aggressive with it. Or that person be slightly intoxicated as well since you could hear the slur in their words and sway in their step. So what do you do?

“Of course, what else would I be doing?” You replied back with a charming smile, flute of champagne soon brought up to your lips as you took a small sip, everyone’s attention now back to their bragging and constant and silent battle on who was the best among them. None of them however were in the top 100, that's for sure.

Your eyes now quickly darted around the room. You wanted an escape, but then what? Find yourself in another circle of heroes who tried to compensate for their lack of popularity? Or have someone else belittle your place in the world? Sitting by yourself didn’t seem at all bad, but what goof will that do? Sitting by yourself in a room filled with people obligated to do good? They would probably approach you and offer to sit with you like the nice popular girl does to the weirdo at school before homecoming queen is voted for. Oh well, you guessed, might as well do as you go. You slowly backed away from the circle, the others preoccupied with themselves.

“Oh no, I’m not interested..” A man spoke out, a woman seeming to follow with every step he took away. He let out a small exclamation as he felt something solid run into his side. You gave a sigh, mouth about to open to scold the person who had bumped into your side, though soon you felt your body be turned, the person who had almost made you soil the front of your dress with your champagne now had their arm around you. “You see, my wife here wouldn’t appreciate me gallivanting around with strange women, isn’t that right dear?”

You were confused and maybe even slightly dazed as you heard the man say that, You were even more in a daze as you looked up to the masked figure and to the red wings that were almost sprawls magnificently out from behind him, glinting under the many lights upon the chandelier above. A little clear from his throat made you come back to your sense as you brought that charming smile you were told to do over and over again, giving a soft nod of your head as you looked to the defeated woman before you.

“You are correct about that dear, I wouldn’t appreciate you going out with mysterious women that aren’t me!” You said with a laugh, flute placed upon a tray of a passing waiter, hand now placed upon the man’s chest, the woman profusely apologizing before scurrying away to hide her embarrassed self amongst the many crowds and to possibly avoid the man’s face along with your own.

“Lets go honey” He spoke, you giving a vigorous nod of your had as took his arm, following after his casual steps and past the many groups of people and passed the open curtains that covered the tall entrances to the many platforms that lined the ballroom. This particular one clichély led to the gardens of the venue. You didn’t care how cliché it was though, you were glad to now catch a break from the annoyances that walked and spat all over those polished ballroom floors. “Man, that was close, thanks for playing along” He said as he let a sigh of relief.

“I should be thanking you, I don’t know how long I could take all those ridiculous conversations anymore” You said as you let go of his arm, taking the liberty to step ahead and down the marble steps the lead to the grass that almost seemed to be fake by how perfect it seemed to be. “Mind entertaining me for a bit? Before we either have to join the party or leave?” You asked with a small smirk to which he only returned as he followed in your shadow, hand soon lifting the small train of your gown. “Lets sit for a bit” you suggested as you sat down upon a small stone bench that was sat off to the side along the cement path that led through the garden or various bushes of flowers and fruit. The masked man sat beside you, the train of fabric he once held now piled onto his lap.

“I would have thought this mask would have hidden my identity, too bad my wings are a dead giveaway” He mumbled, though you only raised an eyebrow at him before looking off onto the garden. “What?” he asked, you only shrugging your shoulders.

“Just that I find you conceited. I don’t know who you are” you pointedly out with a matter of fact tone as you folded your hands on your lap, the other, who you guessed was a hero, looked at you in bewilderment.

“You live under a rock or something lady?” He asked as he ruffled his feathers a bit, face scrunched up with his confusion as you looked back to him accusingly, hands snatching the trail of your dress from his lap, tossing it to the ground as you got up.

“For your information I am a costume and weapon concept designer for the comission...so its pretty much my job to do business with who they tell me about and keep to myself about anyone else.....and gossip magazines and drama news channels isn’t really my thing if you are only known for being controversial.” With that you were marching down the path towards the garden, the man now scrambling up and easily catching up with you.

“Whoa there, I’m sorry, I’m just not use to people who really don’t know who I’m and when I say that I really am not trying to sound so....”

“Douchey?”

“Yeah....douchey” he confirmed with a small laugh as he looked over his shoulder and to the classy party that was still carrying on within the fancy walls of the ballroom. “Look...I’m Hawks” He finally said, reaching out a hand, which you only gave a small glance before you sighed, your hand soon giving his a firm shake. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise” you spoke out, though you only stiffly and sassily turned away to continue your walk along the crackless cement path, Hawks now falling in step beside you. You were glad, just by a tiny bit, that's all you would admit to yourself as you looked over to him. “So, you area hero I’m guessing? Judging by your name?” You asked as you clasped your hands behind your back, Hawks shoving his hands into the stiff pockets of his trousers.

“Yeah, I am. I have my own agency in Fukuoka city. I have plenty of sidekicks registered with me, but really they end up being my cleanup crew. I’m a little to fast to keep up with” with a sheepish smile he looked down to you who only nodded your head with a hum before looking back ahead. “I can control my feathers from my wings, helps fulfill my need of being a constant mutli tasker” he joked a bit, which you gave a small laugh as you looked to his wings he now stretched out behind him fully. They only seemed to put you in awe as you raised a hand questioningly, only letting your hand softly brush against the red feathers once he gave a nod of permission.

“You seem pretty young, that is a lot you’ve got accomplished” You complimented, your steps now coming to halt as the two of you now made eye contact. Though he looked away to now look up to the starry night.

“I could say the same for you, you are the same age or yet probably a year or two younger” he pointed out before he looked down to you, waiting expectantly for an answer. you gave a nod of your head.

“What can I say? The commission liked what I could do and plucked me right up after my graduation” you said with a small roll of your eyes and a sarcastic chuckle. “Can’t complain, I wouldn’t be standing here with all these opportunities handed to me.” a sigh was soon pushed out into the cool spring air, Hawks giving a soft nod before looking back down to you.

“Yeah, I’m all too familiar with that...” you were just about to open your mouth to ask him a question before you cellphone had began to blare out it’s annoying ringtone, causing your to scramble for it within your bag to finally answer it, walking a bit ahead to hush words into the device before hurrying back.

“I’m sorry, but I have to leave!” you shouted as you were already running off as fast as your heeled feet could take you, Hawks trying his best catch up, but once you had begun to weave through the groups, he lost you. With a curse he got swept away in a group, now to only be left to wish to see you again.

“Good morning!” Called the secretary as you sipped tiredly from your coffee and was now skillfully opening your office door despite the binders and folders that were balanced on your arm. “You had a delivery this morning, so i placed it on your desk” called the secretary as you entered your room, eyes landing upon the flowers that rested in their vase on your desk.

“What in the world....” you muttered out as you settled the things down on the work table nearby, now stepping up to the vase that held the arrangement to pluck off the note that sat in it’s little plastic holder.

‘I didn’t even get the chance to ask for a number let alone an email address or something...so here is mine -Hawks’ and there was the number and there was the stupid grin that managed to crawl on your face as you sat down at your desk now admiring the flowers.

“Goodness..” you mumbled out as you grabbed the remote for the tv that was mounted onto the wall, turning on the channel, listening to the voices as you prepped your desk for the work you were about to begin.

“Number two hero Hawks made an appearance at the ball for Hero and all Hero support personnel and sidekicks hosted by the commission to raise donations for the damage caused by....” Though the rest of the words now drowned out from your ears as your mouth was now agape, you now sitting up straight within your chair as you stared down to the name ‘Hawks’ scribbled on the small piece of cardstock.

“What?!” You exclaimed. Wow...you really escaped that ball with the nation’s number two hero and didn’t even know.

How embarrassing...

161 notes · View notes

xhanisai · 4 years ago

Text

Confront the boundary line of good and evil in my heart

AO3 / FFN

Summary:

It wasn't her fault! No way whatsoever! But still... Still... 'It really does hurt so bad...so much, I can't take it!'

~(x)~ . . . Tick. Tock. "I'm so sorry Chat Noir! I didn't mean to- I just- I just completely broke down and she was right there and I needed someone-" "It's okay, Bug. I understand, don't apologise," Tick. Tock. "It's not okay at all! You've wanted to know for so long, so patiently and I have always said no- and then look at me now! A hypocrite! This is probably a huge sucker-punch for you and I hate that I've always kept on hurting you back then but now, this takes the cake-" "N-No, I'm fine, honest...really. What matters is your happiness and wellbeing-" "But what about you!?" "..." Tick- "...Kid, talk to me, please. The way you're staring out into space is scaring me." The subdued, raspy voice belonging to the ancient being of destruction went unheard. The boy in question continued to observe the empty space in front, sitting on top of his bed with his knees tucked under his chin and his arms folded in front, hiding the lower half of his face. If one were to enter the room, they would instantly freeze from the glower of the boy's fiery emerald greens that were begging to pool with unshed tears and the aura of his stone-cold demeanour. From the waft of his internal turmoil, even a blind person would be able to pick up that he was currently the host of bad luck. "...Adrien...I want to help, I want to understand, so talk to me!" Once again, Plagg was left ignored, leaving him no choice but to float back down to his pillow and direct his pleading kitten eyes at the blonde, his tiny heart shattered from the state of his chosen. Alas, even he was helpless, his feline ears and whiskers drooping with sorrow. 'But you won't understand. You never did and you never will. No one will ever understand.' Adrien didn't even flinch, didn't even bat an eye. He was a statue of apathy and aloofness; though deep down inside, he was a maelstrom of agonising pain. Oh, so much pain. It was excruciating. He wanted to suit up and claw through the rooves of Paris whilst screaming in anguish. He wanted to find every billboard that had his face on it and tear through it all like paper. He wanted to shred and pulverise his useless, traitorous heart along with its despicable feelings and emotions. But most importantly, he wanted to rip the magical ring off his finger and throw it into La Seine with all his might and then cry for the rest of eternity. And he hates that he feels that way. Absolutely, ridiculously, hates that he feels betrayed. Self-loathing and disgust have taken over his body like a puppet and rendered him completely useless, like a toy forgotten at the bottom of the box, never to see the light of day ever again. The feeling of uselessness and pure shame replaced the blood running through his veins and numbed him to the point where he was equivalent to a powerless machine. He felt his throbbing heart fall deeper and deeper into the pit of his stomach. It wasn't her fault! No way whatsoever! But still... Still... 'It really does hurt so bad...so much, I can't take it!' The younger, softer, naive part of himself which was usually tucked away within the dark, hidden crevices of his heart, screamed as if the rest of humanity's lives depended on it. It was taking Adrien everything to keep him out. 'Is it too much to ask for only one constant in my life? Is it too much to ask for one thing to remain the same? Is it too much for anyone to stop keeping me at arm's length!?' . It is. . It is. . Deep down inside, below the platinum chains and iron bars of solid, concrete denial, he always knew that Ladybug never considered him as close as he did with her. And why should she? Just because he performed an act of common, proper human decency and helped an old man get his walking stick back? Just because he was gifted with the power to destroy anything he touches in order to save the day? Just because he knew how to fight possessed villains alongside her? Just because he's in love with her? . "I'm literally the worst." Adrien finally spoke out loud ever since he returned from...that patrol many hours ago. Despite his words, his soul couldn't help but weep and pray that it was all one huge, cruel nightmare. A twisted, sick joke that whatever deities out there have concocted up just for him. Anything! Yet, this was his reality. "I disagree." The boy snapped his gaze towards the kwami, his brows furrowing for elaboration on the little God's part. "I may not be human but I do have feelings and I can empathise. I've existed from the beginning of time and I've witnessed many, many things in my lifetime." Plagg then floated towards him, settling on Adrien's arm so that he was face to face. "You're not in the wrong here, kid. It's okay to feel like this-" "No, it's not!" Adrien's sudden outburst had the kwami shoot away in surprise, the boy instantly turning baffled at his own harsh reaction and then visibly paling even further. He caught sight of his own reflection on a nearby mirror, cringing at the monstrous mess that looked back. With a frustrated sigh, he leapt off the bed, solemnly treading towards his windows, fingers digging into his upper arms as if he was hugging himself. . The luminous moon that shone through the night sky, what was once a beacon of freedom in the past, never looked so unappealing to the distraught hero. His usually glittering eyes were vacant, devoid of any joy and hope whilst his lips were etched in a permanent frown. How many fake smiles and empty words of wisdom did he force out in front of his Lady earlier on? He's lost count. And how many more times will he have to keep doing that, knowing that there will always be another person out that there that Ladybug trusts more than she'll ever trust him? . "I stand by with what I said," Plagg quipped once more, his host quietly surprised with how the little God managed to get so close without him realising. "The two of you have been thrust into a messy situation with very little guidance and a whole bunch of rules which only complicated it further." He then directed his eyes from the moon to the boy. "Yes, I agree that Ladybug's decision in confiding with someone about her identity was a good idea, but as a result of that, it's brought you so much pain. You are not the worst and it's okay to cry it out. It's okay to tell her how you really feel." He placed one of his tiny hands on Adrien's cheek, ears and whiskers still weighed with melancholy as the boy allowed his eyes to prick with tears. One drop. Two drops. Three drops. Four. "It shouldn't hurt- I...I shouldn't be so selfish! Even if she never told me, I was able to tell that she wasn't able to handle her civilian life any longer, especially after becoming the Guardian- I'm supposed to protect her and be by her side! Not throw a tantrum like a three-year-old just because I'm not the one she decided to tell about her secret identity! And then adding my own stupid feelings and insecurities to her plate? I'll be a burden!" The dam was broken and the overwhelming feelings within Adrien cascaded like a tsunami. "You have plenty on your plate as well-" "But I'm used to it, she isn't. I was born and raised to deal with these kinds of things anyway so it's a no brainer for me to shut up and accept it all with a smile-" He paused abruptly, a wet gasp escaping his throat as he leaned against the glass for support when even more realisation sunk in. 'I have been dealing with so many responsibilities ever since I was born...and that puts us on the same boat...so why couldn't she have confided with me then?' Adrien dropped to his knees, fingernails scraping against his scalp as he tried to fight back against those negative thoughts and questions. 'Why am I never good enough? Not for Maman, not for Père and now...not for Ladybug...?' 'Why am I even here then?'

"Adrien...you don't need to put a mask on when you're with me. Cry it all out. I'm not gonna sit by and watch you destroy yourself from inside out because of your inability to address your true feelings. I'm right here, I'll even destroy all the wretched butterflies that dare to come by- so please, let it all out," "I can't! If I do, I'll never be able to go back and nothing will be the same again-" "And if you don't, then things will change for the worse and trust me, kid, that is the last thing you need." Finally, Plagg's words unravelled the obstacles that slowed down the flood and Adrien couldn't help but give in. His body shook and a whole new fresh wave of tears pooled down his eyes, teeth biting down on his lip to prevent the sobs from bursting out. . "...It hurts Plagg...it hurts so much! I love her...and I trust her so much but it hurts! I know she trusts me on a level and I know that multiple times she's mentioned that I'm irreplaceable but dammit! Why does it all feel like a lie!? She did the right thing in telling her civilian best friend, she finally has someone to look after herself- but why does it feel so wrong? Why is my heart in so much pain? Why can't I stop crying? If Ladybug won't lean on me, then what am I here for? And if I can't lean on Ladybug...who...who do I have?" . "...I may not be much and I may talk about nothing but cheese...but you'll always have me, kid," "I want to believe you, I want to so badly, Plagg...but I can't. I feel so alone...I've always been alone... ...And I'll always be alone..." . . . A couple of hours ago, just shy under midnight on a lone, hidden rooftop, if a curious civilian looked up, they would have seen Ladybug and Chat Noir locked in an embrace. However, what they would have noticed first was the absolutely broken, heartwrenching expression Noir wore... ...As if his entire world has fallen apart... . . . ~(x)~ A/N: Just wondering if I should make a sequel and give these two poor cats a happy ending~

#my writing #my fanfic #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfic #ml fanfic #ml spoilers #takes place after gang of secrets #basically a possibility of what could happen when chat finds out that ladybug told her identity to someone else #super angsty #adrien agreste #chat noir #plagg #ladybug

119 notes · View notes

quirklessidiot · 4 years ago

Text

Title: filthy rich [3/3] Pairing: millionaire!sakusa kiyoomi x y/n [filthy capitalist au] Genre: mystery, major angst ahead, thriller, mafia!au-ish

Synopsis: Just run, Y/N. Don’t look back.

Warnings: dark and yandere themes, toxic relationships, mentions of violence, shady business, class differences, mentions of rape, smoll breeding kink, unwanted pregnancy, mentions of abortion, and sakusa being a manipulative bastard

Notes:

Im disappering again for a week or two so as a parting gift, here ya go, im starting a bokuto fanfic soon and posting the reboot of notice me soon too hnnng thanks for the wait guys uwu

A sorta realistic take on a yandere is harder than it looks kssjdn omg anyways here yall go the long awaited last chapter of filthy rich. I’m not sure if I should put like a one shot sequel but so far im marking this series completed. Thanks for sticking by!

previous || series masterlist || blood son [sequel;one shot]

You run your hands through your hair and shut your eyes tight, the quietness and stillness of your shared apartment was something to bask on before you put on a fake mask of happiness. It had been exactly two months since you found out about the birth control switch and the medaide agenda.

In the span of those two months, you had grown more observant towards your boyfriend’s actions and you knew that it wouldn’t be anytime soon until he actually notices that you were onto him.

You let out a shaky breath as you recollected some weird things you’ve seem to have noticed, how his brows would furrow when he’d receive a call indicating that something was up and it was serious or how you visited your ex-boss one time a week or so ago along with Kenjiro since you wanted to see how he was doing.

“...Well, he just didn’t come home and sold the place. Apparently he was in a rush to move or something because of family matters so I didn’t exactly see him.” the neighbor gossiped to you two.

“Y/N?”

You jump on your spot as you hear that dreadfully familiar voice.

“Hey,” You greet, walking up to him, you decide to do your usual hug but stop when you notice a small red stain on his necktie, the tie is dark blue and although it wasn’t obvious from afar, it definitely was up close. Your brows are furrowed together, this time in pure curiosity, “Did you get hurt? It’s unlike you to get messy.”

You notice the quick shift of attitude in his eyes, you were seemingly getting good at observing his emotions these days and it looked like he panicked for a second there.

Odd.

“A friend of mine had gotten hurt a while ago, you remember Atsumu Miya?”

A vivid image of a blonde man crossed your mind, he was another conglomerate friend of your boyfriend, another person to be weary of to add to the list, “Oh, is he alright?” you asked, trying to keep it casual as you untie his tie for him as usual.

“Yes. He’s awfully clumsy. You don’t need to worry.”

“Oh…” You mumbled, “by the way, I visited my ex-chief.”

“Ex-chief?”

“Mhm.” you hummed, “You know, my boss from before? Me and a few co-workers decided to visit him since he was a really good boss. Turns out he just left without telling anyone, poor man.”

“Sounds unpleasant. Did you know why he quit?”

“No.” You shrugged as you take the tie out and place it on the side, “He suddenly just quit his job and moved, neighbors said it was also because of family matters. It’s kinda weird because as far as we knew, he didn’t have a family.”

“Would you like me to look into it?”

You almost stiffen when he slithers his arms on your waist but you didn’t want to give away any suspicion, “No. I don’t want to pry. Hopefully he’s enjoying his retirement.” You sighed, turning towards him with a tight smile, “Now what would you like for dinner? I was thinking Mediterranean? I need to lose some weight since I’ve been feeling bloated for a while.”

He leans in for a soft kiss on your temple, “Mediterranean would be fine. Would you like anything else? We could order more.” he hummed, his lips slowly started to dangerously hover on top of yours.

“No, it’s fine.” You give him a quick peck and wiggle your way out of his arms, your stomach doesn’t feel well these days. Whenever you were near Sakusa you had the urge to throw up your innards despite having an empty stomach.

You don’t notice the dangerous gaze on your behind as you pick up the phone for your take-out.

Sakusa hasn’t felt you in a long time and it’s driving him insane, he wants to feel your heat, your body, and everything in between. He wants to fill you up and see you pregnant with his children. He wants everyone in the world to know you were his and his only.

Yet he can’t do that.

You’ve ignored his affections these past few weeks and it had been driving him insane to the point where he had to ask one of his men to put an eye on you to see if you had been cheating on him or seeing someone else.

Yet you hadn’t.

Your routine was the same old one and Sakusa is digging his nails deeply into his skin in his office one day with his tie uncharacteristically untied. Miya Atsumu sits across him, taking a sip from his flask, “Ya look like shit.” the blonde points out.

“Fuck off, Miya.”

“Heard from your cousin that you’re not getting laid by your girl these days.”

“You better be thankful that you’ve got men behind you or I’d be shooting your fucking brains out for saying that.” Sakusa spats, his dark gaze pointedly looking at the blonde across him.

“You should just find someone else then and not yer prude of a-”

“Keep telling me ideas like that and maybe I might just shoot you and chop your body up until it looks fuckin’ unrecognizable.”

Atsumu raises his hands up, signaling that he was giving up, “Gee, omi-omi. I was just giving my advise. It’s so easy to drop her.”

“I don’t want to drop what’s mine.”

“You’ve got issues.” He chuckles, “Haven’t you been switching out her pills and fucking her raw for the last couple of months? I bet yer ass you got her pregnant on that before but ya just don’t know it. Getting her pregnant would definitely secure her spot in her life. Woman’s nuthin’ without ya.”

“She’s...she’s not showing…”

“When was the last time ya two went at it?”

“Two months ago.”

“Ya poor boy.” Atsumu sighs, shaking his head, “Ya sure you don’t want to take a break from being a loyal boyfriend for one night? i bet Y/N wouldn’t notice.”

“And no one would notice if you fucking disappeared. I’ll make sure of it, now get out.”

You may not have been the sharpest tool on the shed but you know that someone’s been tailing you these past few days, you’re not stupid. You could only come to the conclusion that it was Sakusa who was doing such things but you couldn’t get why.

Something just didn’t make sense. It felt like you were missing an important piece in the puzzle, med-aide and the switch of your pills and now a hidden tail?

You furrow your brows together in deep thought as you sat down next to a teenage boy on his phone, you decided to take the bus today to the grocery store, surprisingly the one tailing you wasn’t around today.

Your eyes slowly shift towards the boy’s phone, it seemed like he was playing a video game.

An otome game, to be exact.

You felt your lips twitch up, you remembered those games a lot growing up. The graphics seem to have massively improved now by the looks of it, “...That looks interesting.” You tell the teenage boy who turns to you in surprise.

“Oh, thanks.” the blonde replied quietly.

“Is that a new otome game?”

“Kind of.” He blinks, his gaze returning back to the screen, “It’s sort of a remake of the yandere simulator from back then.”

You feel your shoulders tense up.

“A yandere?”

“Yeah.” The blonde nods, “The girl’s awfully creepy in the game, she stalks him, does things to get him. The player has to catch her in the act and evade her at the same time.”

“Oh…” You blink, “I-uh, this is weird… but what’s a yandere again?’

“It’s someone obsessively in love with you. They’ll do anything to have you stay by them.” He says, pushing on a button but suddenly the screen turns red and you feel shivers run down your spine as you hear him curse and the words ‘you’re caught’ appear on the screen.

“W-what happened to your character?”

“He died. Nothing much.” he mumbles, “If the Yandere knows they can’t have you, they’ll kill you.”

You immediately went pale as soon as you heard that. Maybe, just maybe you were being paranoid. He wouldn’t go to that extent, would he?

“How did your character escape the yandere in the game?”

“Well, I haven’t finished the game yet but based on some anime’s and manga’s I've usually read. They either killed to get away or they moved so far away where they wouldn’t be seen so I think the creator might have the same ending.” The blonde said, he slowly looked to your side, “You’re looking awfully pale, ma’am. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, j-just remembered a horrible game I played back when I was your age.” You gulped in, “Nightmares, you know? The yandere tried to get my character pregnant and tried to get in her way of moving out of the country.”

“Sounds like a very realistic one.” He mumbles, “What did your character do?”

“I wasn’t able to finish it.” you whispered, loud enough for him to only hear, “I couldn’t really find a way out.”

“The developers of the game must’ve made it hard for you. Maybe your character should’ve ran away,” he advised, “Or better yet, you should’ve killed him.”

“I-well, I don't think there were options like that.”

“Well if I were you and there was no option for killing, I’d run. Far, far away. Change my identity and all that.” he exits the game and stuffs the phone back in his pocket, you get a good look of his cat-like eyes and immediately feel a shiver on your spine with the next words he say, “I mean its a game but you wouldn’t wanna loose and get your character killed, right?”

“R-right.”

The teenage boy hops down without even saying goodbye and you have a scary realization that you can’t break it off like you originally had planned. You needed to run, run far as you can and get lost.

The words that the teenage boy says echoes in your head for the next few days, from that point on, realization dawns upon you that, nothing is certain now. You couldn’t trust anyone, you couldn’t let friends and family be involved in this. Sakusa Kiyoomi is a powerful man so you needed to be careful with how you were going to disappear.

You continue to act nonchalant and the same as you try to lay out your plan but you knew that you had only a week or so to complete this for it to successfully work.

Sakusa Kiyoomi wonders what he should do to save the relationship, he’s tried everything in the book that he could think of but you remained the same. Was this the end of the relationship? For real?

He could never stomach the idea of having you leave him.

It’s eerie that day, something felt different when he came home to an empty apartment. It looked the same yet something felt very, very different. Apparently the apartment guards said you were here since your car hadn’t left the driveway and they hadn’t seen you go out.

He checks out your side of the closet, your clothes remain there untouched and your toiletries were there too. He scans the fridge for your notes but nothing is stuck there. He suddenly feels like something cold was dumped on him.

It couldn’t be, right?

Right?

He runs to every room, checking every nook and cranny and when he finally reaches the last room which was the bathroom, nothing is there.

Everything was in its place except you.

Where were you?

Your bank account remains untouched, your wallet and phone was left in the apartment. It was as if you were returning home, the very least. Komori tells him to calm down, saying that they’re letting the best people find you around the city, they don’t rule out that someone might’ve had the audacity to touch you.

Whoever took you would be given hell to pay, that’s for sure. Was it the triad? Kkangpae’s? Or opposing yakuza’s? Oh, they’ll definitely have their heads on the platter if they tried to harm a single hair on your head.

Sakusa doesn’t even hesitate to notify the police about you already despite the memorandum that twenty-four hours is needed to consider a person missing, it's nothing a little money can fix.

“I hope we find her soon.” Your aunt sighed, “I’ve notified her parents about it. It’s definitely weird that she’d leave all her valuables behind.”

Hinata and Natsu sit there next to their mom, completely sad and worried, “I’ve hired the best people for it already, obaasan. We’ll find Y/N.” Sakusa replies yet his thoughts are in a complete frenzy now.

And find you they did.

No stone was left unturned. He made sure of it. Yet after a month of relentless searching. Nothing came up, it seemed like you had just vanished and Sakusa Kiyoomi had turned the whole underground world upside down for you but nothing came up.

Some say that you disappeared and ran away but that was immediately ruled out, no security cameras saw you in and out during that day and it would be impossible for you to just leave without security cameras on you. The guard had exclaimed that despite the blackout that day, the generators only took a few minutes to power up so they’d definitely catch you on camera in case you ever exited the building (along with the guards since they knew exactly what you looked liked) plus the clothes and such were still there, left untouched.

Some said you died, it was definitely impossible for you to just vanish without a single trace after all since everyone was looking for you.

Yet no one dared to say it in front of the boss, not if they valued their life.

The billionaire had dried out his connections to find you. What good was it to be the most powerful and richest man in the country if he couldn’t find you? Life had no meaning now, you were gone. It felt like a part of him was ceasing to function.

Sakusa Kiyoomi was a dead man walking now.

Unknown to the whole world, you’re in a small town with little to no signal. Your hair is chopped unevenly and your skin is darker from the repeated exposure under the sun, your life is simple and mundane now yet you’re happy.

For the first time in months, you actually felt free.

You shut your eyes tight, the events that transpired this past few months replayed in your head. Your escape was definitely done as carefully as you can and you didn’t even know if you’d succeed since you weren’t a master in that sort of thing.

You recalled that it was a week before you ran away, a few days after you met that kid in the bus. Someone from the electric company had come to inform you that there was a scheduled black out in the city that day during the afternoon and you felt something bubble up in you. That was the day you’d put your plan into motion.

You knew that the longer you delayed your plan, the harder it would be to escape.

You had a few minutes to actually put your plan to work. The camera’s on the hallways would cease to function for a few minutes according to the guard downstairs as he did a protocol on the building (apparently the generators were quick). So that morning after Sakusa left, you placed only a few clothes and the stash of money you had been carefully hiding in a garbage bag and chopped your hair short in an uneven manner. Burning all the remaining hair on the fireplace and the black hair color that you use with it. The maid uniform that you stole on your floor and a fake name plate that you made was on and you were good to go.

The minute the black out started, you took the garbage bag and walked out. Taking the stairway used by the caretakers, you made sure to just look down and never directly up at the camera’s pretending to work.

When you finally made it out of your building. You let out a stiff sigh and put down the bag, it was only the beginning. If you thought the same way as Sakusa Kiyoomi, you could only imagine that you needed to be more careful from this point on.

You take the newly bought duffel bag that you strategically hid behind some boxes. Thankfully when you had placed it yesterday afternoon, it hadn’t been touched.

You put on a pair of shorts and a baggy shirt with cheap shades and stuffed the maid uniform in the duffel bag along with your belongings in the garbage bag. You take the other route that led to the busy streets. It was easy to look like a tourist and seemingly blend in the crowd, from that point on, you only had one destination in mind.

When you were younger, you vividly remember an acquaintance telling you about this small town outside of Tokyo where her grandparents were from. It was only an hour away via plane and when you went down another few hours via bus yet if you took the bus route all in all, it would take a few days.

Since it was far, only a few busses actually went there and since you had to leave within the day, you decided to just take the bus nearest to that town and take another bus when you arrived there.

The plan smooth-sailed from that point on.

Except for one minor detail.

You open your eyes and look down at your now small bump. The monster who almost had you trapped left a parting gift, you grip your garden hoe tightly.

A big part of you wanted to kill it.

Yet every time you try to, you hesitate.

The moment you arrived here, you had to pretend to be a weary and poor widow. You just didn’t expect to be a weary and poor expecting widow. You let out an uncharted sigh at the thought, it was hard enough to be alone here with little to no money.

This child had the demon’s blood in it.

Yes, you may have gone free from his cage but in truth with his seed growing in your stomach day by day, you started to feel quite the opposite.

taglist [thanks for your support ilyasm skkss im so sorry for updating late too :(]

@maraudusk ;; @iamnotobsessed ;; @ssuna ;; @weebartistinc ;; @aomineavenue ;; @tsukkismamagucci ;; @onlyshinji ;; @ichiraku-verse ;; @watevermelon ;; @victoriasee ;; @caramelcandescence ;; @n-nara ;; @bloody-bella ;; @ricefarmerkita ;; @paripedia ;; @srhlsx ;; @craftyfawns ;; @kepchups ;; @soggycardboardd ;; @vinnieluv ;; @dinablossom ;; @yourstruly-01 ;; @shinhiromi ;; @dinablossom ;; @kneecotinee ;; @vicassa ;; @ahoeforshouto ;; @benimarus-main-mop ;; @atsunakaashi ;; @myaaa-xoxoxox ;; @newfriendjen ;; @usedcoupon

@kn0xiousnight

[can’t tag you guys uwu just make sure ur tags are open :<]

#sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi imagines #sakusa kiyoomi headcanons #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #yandere!sakusa #idk its my take on yandere and toxic relationships #haikyuu scenarios #📝📝.Filthy rich series #hostclub.adulting

501 notes · View notes

alyss01 · 4 years ago

Text

|[It's a family business]|

Comfy cartel x F!reader

Part 1

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

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4]

Genre: Mafia AU/ action

Word count: 1.7K

Requested: no

To request: it is possible to request a comfy cartel fanfic, requests are open!

Synopsis: Corpse joins the cartel, and soon you accompany him, together with Rae, Lily, Sykunno and Toast to a new opening casino to deal with some unpaid debt.

Warnings: talk about murder, crimes, blood

A/n: I really wanted to make this and I'm pretty happy with how it turned out! It started as a one shot and then quickly progressed to what will most likely be 4 parts. I could've posted them as one but this was easier with writing it and managing to space out things. It will update weekly most likely, and it's possible to request one shots for the comfy cartel!

Masterlist

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

You sat across from Toast on the table, his dark glasses covering his eyes as he patiently waited, a map in front of him. He pulled an identical map from underneath the wooden table you sat at and replaced the one that had previously laid on the table.

His face was neutral, he didn't fight the silence that hung in the air. He looked at you as you leant back in your chair, fingers impatiently tapping the table in front of you.

"You don't have to be here you know." He spoke up, his voice carrying practiced authority that could silence an entire meeting full of arguing. Yet as he spoke to you, it had a tone of kindness to it. After all the time you spent together and the situations you had been in with one another he saw you more as his younger sister than anything else. It was a position you had acquired for most of the cartel.

As the sister of Scarra you had a lot of authority in the cartel, although it wasn't as if you needed it. Everyone, no matter how recently the cartel had taken them under it's wing, viewed you as their little sister in the hierarchy of the family.

"Don't worry about it. I want to see the new blood." Toast nodded his head a few times as if to ponder.

Today the new person Toast had scouted out would be arriving at the cartel for his first job, he'd be monitored by Sykunno.

"Are you sure Sykunno would be the best fit?" You had seen his information, they seemed far from compatible.

Toast offered you a small smile, brushing his hair back as he repositioned his glasses. His voice was confident as he spoke, a small hint of his smile could be heard in his voice, "I'm sure."

The male in front of you had always had a scarily good intuition about people, which was how he had recruited most in the cartel.

You nodded in return, but before you had the chance to even consider getting bored again, a stern knock on the door pulled your attention to it.

Toast gave a signal for the person on the other side to come in. You locked eyes with him, he was largely build, carefully dressed in a white blouse with a black vest, tie and dress pants, with white gloves covering his hands. A purple mask covered most of his face, but black curly hair framed the small piece of exposed skin he showed.

His eyes were sharp as he locked them with yours. Your eyebrow raised curiously as he returned his attention back to the male in front of him, "Corpse."

"Disguised Toast." He spoke back, his voice deep and serious as you looked him over. If you hadn't known better you probably wouldn't have been aware of the true nature of the man, despite the intimidating aura that hung around him.

"It's a bad habit to be late." You spoke up as you calmly leant back in your chair, usually when you accompanied Toast to these kinds of things you stayed silent in the background as you observed.

Toast gave you a curious look for that, it was largely hidden by the glasses on his face but it was obvious for you after all the years.

Corpse stayed silent to your remark as you narrowed your eyes, "you'd do good to change the habit before doing something you'll regret." The message in your words was clear, don't pull this again if you want to keep your spot in the cartel.

He gave you a silent nod as Toast returned to the topic, "to start off, you'll be disposing of someone. Sykunno will accompany you as your guardian." He pushed the document to the end of the table where Corpse grabbed it and opened it briefly.

"You'll be reporting back to me, in three days. I want it done before then." Once more Corpse nodded his head as Toast dismissed him.

He walked out of the room, being met by a calm face with a gentle smile displayed. He offered his hand to Corpse, "I'm Sykunno, happy to meet you."

"That was unlike you." Toast remarked as he turned to you, you simple leant back in your chair as you met his eyes, "he needs to know his place."

Toast nodded as he grabbed the document from underneath the table that displayed Corpse's information. He stood up as he walked to the door, closing it behind him as he left you alone in the room.

•••••••••

Sykunno was crouching in front of the body, turning to his companion with a small smile on his face, "jesus, you actually killed him." His voice was calm as he grabbed the dead man's cheek with his gloved hand.

Corpse still held the gun in his hand, he had considered pointing it at the male in front of him but something about it made him unable to actually commit to the deed.

Sykunno tilted the corpse's head around, before releasing and sliding his gloves fingers through the blood that had formed a puddle on the ground and spreading it between his finger tips.

His clean hand grabbed his phone as Corpse stood silently against the wall watching the scene in front of him. Not a single drop of blood had reached him.

"Yvonne? Yes, I'll text you the address." He stayed silent as Corpse could hear a female voice on the other side of the call, "hmh, yes that should be fine. Take it to my garden, it'll make for fine fertilizer."

Corpse curiously listened along, he had known there was more to Sykunno than the sly, calm, gentle and happy mask he wore.

Sykunno stepped away, turning back to Corpse with a gentle smile on his face as he clicked the call away and returned his phone to the pocket it originated from.

"Let's go, Toast will be happy to hear the results."

They calmly walked out of the building as a small van stopped in front of it. Corpse's hand automatically moved to the gun in it's holster at his side.

The movement from Sykunno's hand made him stop as the back doors of the van opened, he started walking past it as a female with blonde hair and pink ends carried out a small trolley with cleaning supplies displayed.

Sykunno offered her a small nod of his head which she returned. Corpse could distantly hear her speak to the front door man, "I'm the cleaning service that was ordered for today."

"There was no such thing."

"I've been send here by Y/n, ask the front desk, they'll know." The man left his position for a second as he leant inside, his voice muffled, before turning back "please, come in."

He followed Sykunno as they fled the scene.

•••••••••••

Lily granted you a smile as you entered the room, beside her sat Toast and at the head of the table sat your brother, Don Scarra.

"Brother." You greeted him first as you moved to the table. A fond smile formed on his face, "sister, how have you been?"

You returned the genuine smile as you sat down, "The days have been interesting with our newest member." Scarra nodded his head thoughtfully.

It had been a few weeks since Corpse had accomplished his first task. Sykunno still watched over him but they were more akin to companions than a guardian. They had gone of a few other tasks, and for now Corpse had the trust of the cartel.

The other two greeted you as well as Toast slid a file over the table towards you. "What do you think?"

You had started in the cartel innocently enough, despite your older brothers desperate attempts to keep you out. Your contacts were simply unparalleled.

Besides that you were an important person, both in and out of the cartel, and eventually Scarra had decided it was safest for you to become part of the cartel, seeing as there was no safer place for you to be.

Your eyes scanned the pages, nodding your head as you read. A large celebration party for the opening of a new casino, the owner however refused to repay the cartel according to Ludwig who was in charge of the cartels money flow. He was divine in covering up the hardest of situations to the government and cheating the system.

The price had apparently build up to the amount where only his life would suffice, although as you looked at the mans information you doubted if even that was enough.

"I'll be able to get some people in, but for that I will have to attend myself as well." You shot a glance at Scarra, who had always been seriously opposed to you working in the field.

"Then we'll find another moment." Scarra spoke up as you had expected him to do, this wasn't the first time and you had a hunch it wouldn't be the last either.

Toast spoke up, "with all due respect, Don Scarra, but the target has been in hiding for months. This may be the only shot we have until he disappears again."

Lily repositioned her hat, the white flower on it changing position with the movement as she turned to the Don, "this would be a low risk mission, the guest list has been screened by Micheal, so the only obstacle will be the security. I've made him download the building plans and he'll be on comms to guide us through."

Scarra however still didn't seem convinced as Toast continued on Lily's reasoning, "beside that, we can send enough people to accompany her. We'll need her reputations to get into the VIP areas where he'll most likely stay hidden. Y/n will be kept out of danger at all costs."

Scarra seemed convinced as you turned to him, knowing you wouldn't have a say in the matter, "so who will accompany me?"

#comfy cartel #mafia au #offlinetv #sykunno #corpse fic #mafiatale #female reader #x reader #corpse imagines #lilypichu #micheal reeves #scarra #corpse x reader #action #mafia #disguised toast #valkyrae #bodyguard #protection

194 notes · View notes

jacarandabanyan · 3 years ago

Note

📚for the fanfic plot ask thing!📚

Okay so- plot of one (of many) fanfic I haven't written (because to be honest, I don't have the skill to pull this off yet) but often daydream about:

I would love to write a This-Is-How-You-Loose-The-Time-War-inspired spy-vs-spy KisaIta fic. It would feature baby ANBU Itachi trying desperately to find a solution to the tensions brewing between his family and the village (massacre was still a few years off when he first joined ANBU, I believe). This eventually leads to him hunting down all reports/intelligence related to the night of the Kyuubi Attack and finding a few small scraps of information that hint at the existence of the Masked Man.

(He is a pre-teen, so he doesn't really *get* that finding a different scapegoat/"revealing the truth of what happened that night" probably isn't going to fix issues that are rooted in three generations of Village Policy and History, because he may be a genius at killing people but his education has not emphasized critical thinking)

He eventually tracks what little (extremely scant) evidence he has to Kiri, where he comes to believe the Masked Man is operating.

He gets himself sent on endless missions to the Land of Water in pursuit of his pet project, gaining himself a reputation in the process. There are no shortage of missions- the Land of Water is rapidly devolving into three different simultaneous civil wars, and resentment over the last Great Shinobi War lingers enough that Kiri and Konoha will likely never be friends in Itachi's lifetime.

(This is gonna get really long, so here's a read more)

At the same time, recently-made-ANBU Kisame has been mostly assigned to intelligence-related missions, as in canon. However, over the course of his first few months worth of missions, he comes to suspect that there's a leak in ANBU, and he sets about trying to find it and silence it. He slowly develops a reputation for ruthlessness even among ANBU, a cut above the normal Kiri ruthlessness, as he secretly works to get his fingers into every hidden nook, cranny, and conspiracy until he finds the disloyal one.

(And maybe he's projecting his issues/self-hatred related to killing other Kiri ninha just. a little bit. on this mysterious leaker. How dare this person sell out the Village? How dare they give out the information that gets other Kiri shinobi killed? It's easier to hate the faceless traitor than it is to hate himself. And at least he still *has* values. He killed the Few to protect the Whole.)

Over time, as the two develop their reputations, their respective villages start pitting them against each other in the field. Konoha has an unofficial policy of trying to off Seven Swordsmen hopefuls before they can get powerful enough to actually get a blade, and Kirigakure knows that the unstoppable Konoha operative is a Sharingan-user, and Obito-controlling-the-Mizukage is always down to take down his estranged family members.

Danzo is less eager to have Itachi take care of the Uchiha for good, not out of any particular maneuvering on Itachi's part, but because he also remembers the last Great Shinobi War, and how brutal Kirigakure was during it. He sees their ongoing civil strife and fears that one faction will eventually WIN and turn their attention on their neighbors. Itachi has made himself the best operative at getting into and out of Kirigakure- if he wants to interfere from the shadows and keep the civil strife going, he needs to keep Itachi in the field. (Don't worry, he finds other ways to be awful/keep the pressure on).

Itachi and Kisame are a good match-up. Itachi might be a natural genius with a fancy kekkei-genkai, but Kisame has way more experience than him. Also, unlike laser-focused Itachi, Kisame is actually keyed into the intelligence world, so he always has more information than Itachi.

They clash over and over again over several years, and slowly learn more and more about each other. They mature into seasoned ANBU operatives, have epiphanies about themselves and their villages. And slowly come to like each other.

Itachi has his sexual awakening when he sees Kisame rise up out of an ocean of blood, shirtless, effortlessly hoisting a struggling Jonin one-handed over his shoulder, big tooth-filled grin on his face.

They infiltrate each others' villages and insert themselves into each others' missions in disguise. Itachi genjutsus a Kiri team to think he's one of their teammates, whom Kisame secretly has orders to eliminate. He feels a surge of relief when the teammate he'd known since his Academy days dissolves into a murder of crows moments before his sword pierces their chest- his teammate is still dead, but at least this time they were killed by an enemy, not Kisame himself.

Kisame knows his mysterious counterpart is a Sharingan-user, so he infiltrates the Uchiha compound to tease out what the situation is with the clan in Konoha right now (and maybe see if he can figure out who his counterpart is).

While he's in the village, tracking kekkei-genkai users, he discovers Root and exposes it. This is both a huge win for Kiri Intelligence and put Danzo in a tricky situation, since he supposedly disbanded it.

Eventually Kisame figures out that some of the leaked information is making its way to Danzo, so he goes to kill Danzo and try and figure out who he's getting his information from. This is right around when Danzo's started making threatening noises towards the Uchiha again, since Root was just rediscovered (by foreign intelligence, no less!) and he needs to redirect attention off himself and onto the Uchiha. He's even considering the total elimination plan again- Itachi's work in the Land of Water is valuable, but not more valuable than consolidating control over the Village.

(Or perhaps he doesn't need Itachi for this- Shisui is also a talented ANBU operative, after all. Sasuke was originally supposed to be the spare Uchiha left alive in the village, so they wouldn't loose the precious Sharingan, but it's becoming increasingly clear that while he's good, he's not as good as Itachi. Why keep the subpar tool and throw away the masterwork?)

Itachi develops a humorous problem where he's leading three different fake lives, and is covering up with by genjutsu-wammying anyone who might notice anything suspicious in the timing of his long absences. He's infiltrated Mei's rebellion as a spy who needs to disappear a lot to go do spy stuff, while at the same time pretending to be an official in the Water Daimyo's court, while also posing as a regular Kiri Jounin.

His Regular Kiri Jounin act is so solid, they give him a genin team. One of the genin is related to the civilian official he's impersonating in the Daimyo's court, and she constantly comes to see him and tell him all about her sensei. On of the other genin on the team is related to a the Mizukage, and Mei orders him to kidnap that genin away from their sensei, which is also him, so that he can be used as leverage. The third genin turns out to be a secret kekkei-genkai user, and actually wants to be kidnapped away to the rebellion so that they won't have to live in fear of being discovered, and also because they hate the current government. This genin who wants to be kidnapped is constantly fighting with the genin he's actually supposed to kidnap, and whines that "Sensei, you're not supposed to play favorites! Why do they get to get kidnapped but I don't? They don't even want to get kidnapped!"

(Itachi the Regular Kiri Jounin, who is Unquestionably Loyal and Totally Not a Radical Who Would Join the Rebellion, ends up dating Kisame, whose identity as an ANBU is technically a secret. This relationship runs on willful ignorance.)

Kisame and Itachi would end up taking each others' places at some point to take down each others' mentors- Kisame walks right into Danzo's office looking like Itachi, and no one blinks when they sense the genjutsu because Itachi is always casting genjutsus. No one even realizes anything's wrong until Danzo's dead and "Itachi" is making his getaway.

Itachi would be approached by Fuguki at some point with an offer to sell information, and immediately realizes that this is Kisame's leak. He argues to Danzo's replacement that the value of Kiri's ANBU turning on each other is greater than the value of having someone willing to sell the occasional nugget of info. He has to work not to laugh behind his ANBU mask, because Konoha nin just don't get how down Kiri nin are to turn on each other at the drop of a hat. "Turning Kiri ANBU against each other" please, as if the Seven Swordsmen don't regularly train their own murderers. As if one of the fastest ways to gain cache isn't by offing your superiors. It's like Konoha Intelligence knows nothing.

He wins his case, and reveals what he knows to Kisame, who goes and kills Fuguki like he did in canon. Obito reveals himself, same as in canon, and Kisame immediately knows how he's going to pay Itachi back. He's still disillusioned with the Shinobi world like in canon, but he had his initial Pit of Despair moment years ago, when he figured out there was a leak in ANBU and that truly there were lies everywhere. He's learned how to compartmentalize since then.

He pretends to join Obito so that he can feed Itachi information. Together they take down Obito, revealing his crimes to both Kiri and Konoha.

It should be over then- Kisame found the leak, Itachi cleared his family's name- but it's been around a decade at this point. Both of them have played so many roles as spies that they don't know how to go back to who they were before.

Itachi's almost spent more of his life in the Land of Water than in the Land of Fire at this point, and he certainly knows more people there than in the Land of Fire. He's passed his twentieth birthday by now, and he's no longer a pre-teen with no concept of the world and his place in it outside of Konoha Propaganda/Brainwashing. He doesn't know how to relate to Sasuke's fierce, uncomplicated desire to grow up to be the best Shinobi, because how can he think that's a good thing at this point?

Meanwhile, Kisame still kind of hoped that killing the liars/traitors who had sent so many Kiri-nin to their deaths would make him feel better about all the comrade-killing, but it doesn't. He can't seem to reconcile his absolute loyalty to the Village and its ideals with his disgust at everything they do.

For a brief while, he and Itachi join Mei's rebellion for realsies (Itachi still as one of his undercover roles) and help her topple the Bloody Mist government and install a new one, but it's not enough. What she's proposing is still a Ninja Village. It's better than what there was before, but that's not really a ringing endorsement.

Itachi's the first one to decide to walk away. He lets Kisame "kill" him on a random mission in a way that doesn't lend itself to a body being returned or retrieved, then settles down and builds himself a life as a secret kekkei-genkai child who grew up hidden like Mei, but never learned to be a proper shinobi. He spends his days at a quiet house outside Kiri proper gardening and making jam by the side of a lake Kisame made during one of his fights with Itachi. There's a ghost town near the lake, emptied during the Civil War years. He develops a reputation as a ghost.

Kisame walks away not long after. He can't really leave, of course- unlike Itachi, he has no desire to settle down in a foreign country, and too many people know him here- but he does step away from active duty. He "kills" Itachi The Regular Kiri Jounin-Sensei and takes his genin team for himself. The kids know something's up because their Sensei still visits them sometimes, though he half-heartedly tries to convince them he's a ghost. They help spread the story about the ghost living by the lake anyway, just in case anyone starts investigating.

Kisame quietly moves out of his shitty Kiri apartment to join Itachi by the lake. Some of the seven swordsmen do come investigating then, but when they discover that Kisame's just moving in with his squeeze who he really sexily fake-murdered, they decide not to do anything about it. Besides, they like Itachi and don't want to have to write up a report about how dangerous it is to Kiri security that he lounges around a lake all day, drawing birds and cooking elaborate meals in an attempt to blend the comfort food of his youth with the produce and spices native to Kiri that are honestly more familiar to him at this point than the ones that grow in the Land of Fire.

Itachi sometimes goes and visits Sasuke and Shisui back in Konoha, but mostly he hangs out in his new home and lives out his soft, domestic, non-violent dreams with Kisame and his cute little genin. It's a sappy ending.

#naruto #fanfiction #kisaita #kisame #itachi #This is totally different from my other Kisaita Spy AU because in that one only Itachi is the spy

20 notes · View notes

legends-live-in-memories · 4 years ago

Text

Cut You Down to Size

AYO its Day 1 of the MGI Trope Tussle! I’m representing Team Enemies-to-Lovers! Lets Get It!

Fics Masterlist

Damigami 5.5K words Oneshot, no warnings apply

Summary:

Alfred signs Damian up for his school's fencing club. There he meets a red clad demon with a sabre.

Day 1 prompt: My name is unimportant— you, tyrant, will die today by my blade.

without further ado:

This was stupid. Damian could not understand Pennyworth’s logic behind signing him up for his school’s fencing club. He was a trained assassin, studying under the world’s greatest swordsmen, and no one at his school would be able to keep up with him. He was miles ahead in terms of technique and experience. So why on earth would he subject himself to this asinine, idle waste of time on a Saturday?

“Remember, young master, it is important to your father that you enjoy hobbies more suitable for others your age. All your other siblings have activities to distract them from the eccentricities of their nighttime activities.” Right, that’s why. Pennyworth spoke as if he were reminding an imbecile how to not walk into oncoming traffic and his tone grated on Damian’s nerves. “Don’t pout, Master Damian, it is unbecoming. Besides, it would make your father proud if you were able to blend in with other teens.”

He most definitely was not pouting but he could agree that making his father proud and not compromising their identities were important. His weary sigh was the only answer he gave to Pennyworth before stepping out of the car and entering the school gym. He squared his shoulders and adjusted the gym bag before striding to the gathering of other students on the mats. They were all in varying degrees of proper white fencing gear, a sharp contrast to Damian’s black uniform. He stood off the side, waiting for the instructor and pointedly ignoring the stares of the other students. Their attention was meaningless and Damian hoped they wouldn’t turn his presence into some spectacle.

The minutes ticked by, and his patience withering away with it, before the gym’s double doors were booming open. In walked the club’s instructor followed by what looked like another school’s club and instructor trailing behind her. Damian counted at least ten students, white uniforms perfectly in place with their array of masks tucked under their arms. However, one of those students caught his eye. The striking red uniform stood out against everyone else’s and the square to their shoulders spoke of confidence not unlike his own. A small part of Damian wonders if any of that confidence was well earned but the larger part of him knew that regardless of how good they thought they were, they were still no match for him.

“Good afternoon, everyone!” The crisp voice of his instructor echoed in the now silent gym as she commanded everyone’s attention. She looked rather pleased with herself and continued to speak, addressing the Gotham students. “As you can see here, I have a visiting school’s club with me, so please join me in welcoming Francois Dupont’s fencing club, who have come all the way from Paris to practice with us.”

A half hearted applause was all the reaction she got and it was at that point that Damian tuned out the rest of her introduction. His mind had wandered to less menial things, waiting for his time to show his more than impressive skills.

He was brought out of his musings by the shrill of a whistle and was staring face to face to a rather short girl from the French club. She was looking up at him with wide blue eyes before darting away to look over the other students pairing up. Her eyes had focused on a tall blond and his Gotham partner and Damian swore he saw her swoon. Great, a scatter-brained lovesick fool was his first partner. Clearly the universe was punishing him for transgressions he was not privy to. Before he could pass further judgment on his partner, she peered back to him and spoke in soft English.

“Hi, my name is Marinette. Nice to meet you!” She tried to sound confident but her awkwardness betrayed her and the hunch in her shoulders were telling. Alfred had taught him some manners, however, so rather than ignore her as he was wont to do, he greeted her with his name and ended the conversation there. She looked ready to speak again but was cut off by another harsh blow from the whistle.

“Alright, everyone. This is just a warm-up match. Nothing too fancy and remember the rules.” The French instructor’s accent was thick and he spoke with equal robustness to match the Gotham instructor. The two made quite the pair.

He faced his partner again and put enough space between them. They both put on their masks and were poised at the ready. Her pose was amateurish but definitely better than the others he’s caught in his periphery. The cry of ‘en garde’ sounded and Damian did not hesitate to try and score a point. Emphasis on ‘try.’ While if this were a real duel Damian would have won with no hesitation, he found that he didn’t need to hold back as much as he would if she were some of his classmates. Her technique was still sloppy but at least she showed potential.

The warm-up ended with Damian scoring three points in succession but there were, admittedly, some close calls. Next, they were rotating partners and Damian was partnered off with the blond from earlier. This close, Damian faintly recognized his face and verbalized as such. The sheepish scratch behind the blond’s neck was unexpected as was the declaration that he was a fashion model back in Paris. Adrien Agreste the boy had said. Damian then chalked up his previous partner’s behaviour to nothing more than to a silly celebrity crush. No further thought was put into their dynamics as the call for positions was announced.

This duel went slightly differently than Damian had expected. Like his previous partner, Agreste was much better than first impressions would suggest. While his previous partner had poor technique with intuition to back her up, Agreste had acceptable technique with his own personal twist. Agreste backed each strike with an edge that spoke of more roguish practice. It was almost entertaining but still no match for Damian superior skills. Perhaps he could convince his father to send him to Paris for the summer if this was the kind of students the city produced. This duel ended in three points in Damian’s favour as well but he conceded a point to Agreste who got a lucky strike in. Both boys took off their masks and shook hands as a five minute break was called. As Damian turned to reach for his water bottle on the bench, Agreste approached him with a heavy hand on his shoulder.

“I saw your match with Marinette,” he spoke with nothing short of excitement and slight wonder. “She’s new to the club but she’s a quick learner. I’m glad she joined and she seemed to enjoy warming up with you! What do you think?”

Huh.

Maybe Agreste was the adoring fan in their dynamic. Any more brightly, and the boy’s green eyes would be sparkling like fireworks as he continued to wax poetics about the short girl. That of which got annoying pretty quickly.

Another whistle, that French coach was rather annoying with the damn thing, was blown and the students made their way back to the mats. A new rotation was called and Damian was finally paired with the red fencer who caught his eye earlier. In contrast to his previous partners, this one stared at him with poorly hidden, yet unprovoked, contempt. The furrow in her brows and slight downturn in her lips was a mirror to Damian’s own expression. The air between them was charged as they both assessed each other. Neither spoke but neither was paying detailed attention to the instructors. Issuing a silent challenge, Damian tilted his head back to stare the shorter girl down by the tip of his nose, smirking at her increasingly furrowed expression. He scoffed at her as the call for putting on their masks was issued.

“Damian,” he said at last, getting into the starting position.

“My name is unimportant— you, tyrant, will die today by my blade.”

Not even Damian’s brothers were that theatrical; his sister? Maybe. And perhaps Todd, but that’s irrelevant. Was she for real or was this a taunt that got lost in translation? Just who was she? From an outsider’s perspective, the two of them painted quite an interesting picture, posed in their black and red uniforms, a vision against the whites of their clubmates. The air was rich with their slowly growing disdain for each other. The instructor’s voice of ‘en garde’ was drowned out by their hurried movements.

It didn’t take long for Damian to deduce that his opponent was undoubtedly the best of the French group. Her moves were punctuated with needle-like precision and each attack was laced with slowly growing malice at the challenge. Damian didn’t have to hold back nearly as much as he had, once again, underestimated his opponent. There’s a lesson to be learned here but he would never give Pennyworth that satisfaction. The butler’s smug grin and echoed voice of ‘you are not nearly as infallible as you believe, Master Damian’ arose in his mind and the irritation at the notion was channelled directly into his current duel. He struck out with more aggression than he initially had intended to but, as it had put his opponent on the defensive, he wasn’t going to rear his anger in. Instead, he let it fuel his movements more, pushing his opponent off the mat as they danced across the floor.

This only spurred his nameless opponent on more as she matched him strike for strike in equal aggression. Damian wasn’t sure if it was due to his sudden tunnel vision but he could have sworn that the world narrowed to only the two of them, the clash of their weapons being the only sound he could hear. Time faded into nothing and all his focus was on parrying and attacking and lunging and parrying again in a vicious cycle. Points were earned back and forth but no time was called in between to award either of them. This wasn’t a match for points. This was war. A battle to the death issued by the red demon before him. She was no longer just a practice partner or an aggravating opponent. This was his enemy now. Damian would not fail. Damian Wayne doesn’t lose after all.

The shrill of a whistle had the two freezing in place. Giving himself a few seconds to collect himself, Damian felt as if he was coming out of a haze. He watched as the red fencer before him relaxed her posture and turned to face the French coach. Taking off his mask and catching his breath, he noticed that the two of them held the collective attention of the two clubs.

“Now THAT is fencing!” The French coach’s boisterous voice echoed in the gym and was accompanied by his harsh clapping. His two previous practice partners were equally as enthusiastic but subdued in their applause, sporting matching grins at the red fencer. Damian could only glare at the students, refusing to acknowledge his opponent.

The rest of practice went on as such for the next hour but none of the other French fencers captivated him like the first three. They must have had private tutors as they were obviously a cut above the rest. Practice ended without much fanfare and Damian found himself waiting for Pennyworth outside the school gates as the French class were loading their bus. He only caught the tail end of the slight murmurs of conversation but Damian caught the Agreste boy referring to the red fencer as Kagami. Hmm.

Pennyworth pulled up shortly after and once he was inside the vehicle, Pennyworth didn’t hesitate to question him about the experience.

“There was a visiting French club. They were lackluster and struggled to keep up with me even with me holding back.” He refused to look the old man in the eye, glancing a knowing smirk on his aged face. “Three of them showed promise. But I was still superior in every way.”

“Well then, I hope they didn’t tire you out completely. I believe we are expecting some of those same French students over for dinner this afternoon.”

“Pardon?” Damian could not be bothered to compose his irritation at Pennyworth’s brazen declaration. Why was he just learning about this now? “Any idea who exactly will be joining us?”

“I believe Madame Dupain-Cheng, Madame Tsurugi and Mister Agreste all agreed.” Agreste? The model boy. Damian was willing to bet that Dupain-Cheng was the short girl from the warm-up as the two seemed fond of each other. That would probably make Tsurugi his red opponent, Kagami. But that begs the question why they were invited to dinner. Schooling his expression and gaining some more composure, Damian addressed the butler again.

“Any reason why those students in particular?” Aiming for an aura of nonchalance, he continued. “It’s quite the coincidence as those were the three French students I mentioned showing promise. Why were they invited?”

Pennyworth saw right through him and casted a humoured glance at his reflection in the rearview mirror.

“Oh, I would say that Madame Tsurugi shows more than just promise, Master Damian. She is an Olympic hopeful after all.” That… That makes sense Damian supposes. It would definitely explain her confidence and skill. But she still irritated him.

“And what of the other two?”

“Those two would be Madame Tsurugi’s closest friends. Their club is here on a Wayne Foundation sponsorship and your father personally invited Madame Tsurugi to dinner.” Pennyworth paused as he turned into the manor gates. “She and her mother agreed to the invitation on the condition that the young lady’s friends be invited as well. I see they have left quite the impression on you.”

“They require further judgement,” and the conversation died there.

Ignoring the crowd of his siblings upon entering the manor, Damian went straight for his room to research more on his new rival and company.

After two hours of constant research, he was reluctant to admit that the three were rather accomplished in their own rights, and that he had completely misjudged them. Dupain-Cheng was a talented baker and designer and was indeed a fast learner, only officially being in the fencing club for two months. She was also in a new relationship with Agreste. That explains the sappiness and nauseating shower of compliments. Agreste himself was a budding pianist on top of his modelling and fencing prowess. He even featured in some gigs by a local popular band. Tsurugi was more than just an Olympic hopeful, coming from a famous line of fencers and kendo masters back in Japan. She has a roster of competitions won and is currently holding three world titles for her age group. He supposes that that’s quite impressive. But it still doesn’t supersede his training. Would it be improper to challenge her to another duel when she arrives? Probably.

Checking the time, he realized there was forty minutes until dinner and only ten until the three guests arrived. He freshened up his appearance and changed out of his fencing gear into more appropriate attire. He headed down to the foyer to wait with his siblings in greeting their guests. Cain stood next to him and gave him a quick once-over glance. She didn’t say anything but her giggles did not bode well for Damian.

The door was being held open as their three guests walked in and they all wore matching expressions of surprise as their gaze landed on Damian. They greeted his father and each of his siblings, exchanging quick hello’s before the Agreste boy regarded Damian.

“Hey! You’re that guy from the fencing club.” All eyes were on Damian in an instant, his siblings wearing various ranges of delight.

“Yes, he is that guy from the fencing club. Tell us everything,” Todd interjected. He swung a casual arm around Agreste and began herding them further into the manor towards the drawing room. Before Damian can begin to preserve his reputation, Todd and Agreste were already in deep conversation with random input from Dupain-Cheng and Grayson. Tsurugi hung back from the herd and was thanking his father for the invitation. Her calm, withdrawn voice was very different from the scorn she was showering him with during their duel. She caught him staring at her and just ignored him, brushing past him to follow quickly behind the others. He caught his father’s eye and regarded the man silently. Even when maintaining public appearances, his father never did anything without reason. So what was the value in inviting some French kids his company was sponsoring? Olympic grade or not, it was still uncharacteristically more involved than other other company sponsorships in the past.

What was his father’s angle here?

He hoped it didn’t involve playing nice with Tsurugi because her frigid disposition is more trouble than it’s worth. The karma is not lost on him.

Entering the drawing room, he walks into the middle of Agreste illustrating the nature of his duel against Tsurugi. He added unnecessary flourish, making the match seem more grandiose than it really was. He would deny any and all effort exerted as that was a sign of weakness. Damian was not weak.

“I’ll have you know,” he began, collecting their undivided attention, again. “The match with Tsurugi was child’s play. I only entertained her for so long because I thought she could provide some real competition. Clearly, I was mistaken,” he said, like a liar.

“I am more than just competition.” Tsurugi had stood from her place on the sofa to try and face him on even ground. She was still shorter than him but the intimidation was rolling off her in waves. “I will prove to you that I am a worthy opponent.”

That was an invitation for a rematch if Damian’s ever heard one. As he was about to accept the challenge, Pennyworth entered with an announcement of dinner, guiding everyone into the appropriate dining room. His siblings rushed for various seats, splitting up their guests and mixing them in with their chaos. The seating arrangement his siblings had orchestrated had him sitting directly across from the current bane of his existence. The two regarded each other silently, trapped in their own quiet bubble separate from the ruckus of the table.

The dinner was wonderful, as usual, and conversation was as normal as this family was capable of. Except for the intense staring contest he was engaged in with his enemy. She was civil, cordial even, with the rest of the family, sharing jokes with Cain and Thomas with no issue and handled Todd’s annoyance with grace but she couldn’t get a reign on her disdain for Damian. He faintly noticed her two friends exchange curious glances with each other. He paid them no mind; his attention lying elsewhere.

“So, Kagami,” Drake’s voice cut through the loud atmosphere, silencing the table. “You mentioned earlier that you will prove to Damian that you’re a worthy opponent. How do you plan to go about that?” He tried to go for casual but he failed and Damian knew he was doing it just to get a reaction out of him.

“A battle to the death of course,” she was quick with her reply and her tone had no hints of humor. She means every word of that statement. Equal expressions of shock were on his family’s faces, no one knowing what to say. A distasteful snort from the blond cut through the air.

“Kagami,” her friend, Dupain-Cheng, had cut in with a slight chuckle, “I don’t think they know you’re joking.”

“My apologies, then.” Her lips were curled in a faint smirk and then she said, “While I initially had all intentions to contest his false assessment, over the course of the dinner, I have concluded that he is someone not worth the effort.” She took a sip of her drink, completely ignoring the uproar of taunts and jeers his siblings threw his way.

Damian was not going to take that insult sitting down.

“That’s it, Tsurugi,” he rose from his seat, the scrape of the chair on the hardwood floors hushing the peanut gallery. “You wanted a duel, I’ll give you a duel. A clash of swords seems fitting, don’t you think?” He felt quite satisfied with himself, so much so he was completely ignorant to the whispers of his siblings with their guests. His attention was solely on the red demon.

“While I can’t persuade you both from not doing this,” his father’s tired voice was firm and imposing; he looked like he’s aged a few years since the start of the evening, “I must insist on using only the wooden practice swords you have. No real blades allowed. Am I understood?”

It wasn’t really a question as there was no room for refutation but Damian was grateful his father didn’t try to put a stop to the entire thing anyways. A challenge was issued and Damian was going to see it through.

After Pennyworth cleared the table and set about doing other chores, they made their way to the manor’s gym with the exclusion of his father. A mat was already laid out and he went to retrieve the practice swords. They were fashioned to mimic his katana and the familiar weight was comfortable in his grip. Tsurugi was surveying the wooden blade and assessing the balance of the handle before setting into a comfortable starting stance. They weren’t bound by fencing rules this time and he felt the lack of restrictions to be freeing. Grayson had declared himself ring master and was counting down to start them off. Drake was holding a camera, most likely recording, and Todd was conspiring with Dupain-Cheng and Thomas in the corner. Agreste and Cain were observing like normal people—Damian failed to see them silently exchange some cash— and he ignored them all to focus on the foe before him.

Grayson’s call for ‘go’ set them off like steam engines, their swords crashing into each other in heavy strikes. Using his advantageous size, Damian pushed back and swiped for her legs. She blocked the attack, sword intercepting his, swinging her back leg behind her to kick at his chest. He recoiled at the contact and the pressure of her boots before aiming a broad sweep over head, bringing his arms down in a wide arc. She blocks that as well, but was brought down to a knee, all her focus in holding her blade across the palm of hand. She pushes against his force and rolls under his blade, tucking herself into a ball before uncurling behind him. Her next strike is aimed for his back but Damian is quick on the defensive and knocks her blade away before stepping into her space. His shoulder clips her chin and he takes the opportunity to elbow her below her chest. He swings around to strike her down but she ducks and swipes at his legs. He jumps over the arc of her blade but isn’t prepared for the kick in his chest as he lands.

He steps back a couple paces to get air back in his lungs as Tsurugi gains her own bearings. They’re both breathing heavily and the gym is silent save for Todd’s inappropriate wolf-whistle. Ignoring him, as usual, he focuses back on his opponent. On the subtle rise and fall of her shoulders, her lean but firm arms holding the sword out pointing at him. Her short bob is in disarray and her brown eyes burn into him like molten lava. Her stare is intense and almost freezes him completely in place.

A second ticks by. Then another. The entire room feels like a stifled exhale, cautious not to disturb the fragile atmosphere. The energy is broken by a charge from Tsurugi as she strikes across his chest, colliding with his blade. Their swords are crossed and they both lean into the push, faces mere inches apart as they try to get the upper hand. Neither was budging, willing to submit to the other.

Damian found himself revelling in the intense focus of her gaze. Even growing up in the League, his mentors always held back, not wanting to accidentally kill their master’s heir. His siblings were no better, always underestimating him, never taking his challenges seriously. But Tsurugi? She matched him blow for blow without hesitation. Without fear and without judgement. The lack of threat of death hanging over him made the fight that much more enjoyable. If he were anymore focused on his own expression, he would have found a smile, not a smirk or a half-hearted grimace, but an honest-to-god smile. A grin even.

Tipping the fight in his favour, he aims a kick to Tsurugi’s knee, and turns out of their lock of swords. Feeling emboldened, he takes to taunting his opponent.

“You know, you are a lot better than I thought you would be,” he swings his sword around aimlessly, waiting for her to get up again. “But you’re still no match for me.”

Rather than respond, Tsurugi swipes up at him, both hands on her sword hilt, in a broad arc. Her body follows through with the motion, with her back leg sweeping the floor gently, her back to him by the end. Damian sees the opportunity and lunges to attack her now open back. He’s almost flushed against her with his sword about to press into the curve of her spine except his swing is intercepted by his opponent's block. She had anticipated his move and swung her arms over her head, carrying the blade behind her to protect her. Damian’s blood runs white hot with the shame of falling for her feint. Still held in this position, Tsurugi casts a smirk over her shoulder, head tilted back towards his chest. The position, with the exception of their swords, has them appearing to be in a dance, with his partner—no, opponent— ready to be spun out in a graceful turn.

“Are you sure?” her voice was rough with exertion and tainted with glee, “You seem to have failed to gain any substantial upperhand.” She kicks back into his shin and then steps out of his space, spinning under her arms, keeping her sword against his. Now facing him directly, Damian can see the fire shining in her brown eyes, ablaze with excitement and ferocity.

“Don’t think yourself so high and mighty,” he started to step to his right, trying to prepare for another attack but she matched him in moves and now they were slowly circling each other.

“Ironic coming from you, I’m sure.” Her tone was flat but her eyes glimmered with amusement. Her blade shifted ever so subtly, pointing further down Damian’s body, aimed directly for his stomach. Damian takes a chance and steps into her space, left arm gradually inching towards her sword hilt. Using his longer legs, he sweeps one under her stance, hooking his ankle around hers.

It happens in slow motion. Or at least, it felt like it did. He’s bringing his leg back towards himself, knocking her off center, balancing on an unsteady leg. He’s grabbed her sword hilt and is pushing her arms and the sword above her head while his own sword slides to place against her throat. He pushes further into her space, leaning over her and bending her back, almost chest to chest, nose to nose with his sword in the breath between them. Their precarious position cants them completely off balance and she’s fallen with him on top of her. Her arms are pinned firmly above her now, her grip on her sword long forgotten, and Damian’s weight is balanced on his knees, preserving any dignity he has left. They’re still so close to each other, the weight of his blade gingerly pressing into the lines of her neck. Her head is tilting back, a futile attempt to escape him and once she acknowledges that, Damian can feel the muscles in her arms relax beneath his vice-like grip. They’re staring at each other, and Damian finds himself not wanting to look away.

Oh.

In his seven years of living with his father’s family, he never understood how his father could casually welcome thieves and assassins into his bed. How his brothers surrounded themselves with people equally dangerous. How his sister would challenge an opponent she knew she couldn’t beat. How they could all flirt with danger and not even question it. Now he understood. It was a heady rush, like a freefall without certainty of a parachute or a net. It was an addictive type of excitement to come face to face with someone who doesn’t look at him with fear but with equal competition. He could get used to this.

A click of a camera shutter and Pennyworth’s attention-grabbing ‘ahem’ brought him out of his own head. He saw Tsurugi blink herself out of a similar daze and look towards her friends. Finally registering their compromising position, Damian began to extract himself from her. Now standing, and trying to tidy his appearance, he tossed his wooden sword to the side and extended a hand out to the still lying girl.

“I win,” he says, and the taunt falls flat even to his own ears. He clears his throat and tries again. “You are a decent opponent. It was an honor to go against someone of your caliber.”

She accepts his offered hand and as he’s pulling her up, she takes the opportunity to pull him in closer.

“I admit defeat,” her eyes are still intense but softens as she continues speaking, “and there is clearly more I can learn from you. The club is in Gotham for two more weeks for the competition next week. I am willing to have you as my teacher if you accept.”

A pretty pink blush colours her cheeks and Damian can feel his face match hers in intensity. Before he could answer her, her blond friend interrupts them, cutting into their little bubble.

“That means she’s asking you on a date.” His hands are cupping his mouth like a megaphone and he stage whispers for all their captive audience to hear. “Say yes.”

His siblings are eyeing between him and the French teens like they’re spectating an interesting tennis match. Not given the chance to answer, again, Cain replies for him.

“He says yes. Next Friday, after school.” Her reply is curt but the curl of her lips illustrates her delight in the entire situation. His cheeks are even warmer now and he still hasn’t stepped out of Tsurugi’s space and were they always standing this close?

Looking back to Tsurugi he sees that her attention is still on the others and her face is graced with a gentle smile.

“I accept your offer,” her head swivels back to him as he speaks, and there is a slight glimmer to her eyes, hope dancing in pools of warm chocolate. “If your friend was right about your true intentions, then I accept that offer. There is a lot I could learn from you as well.”

“Yes, and I am also available on Friday if your sister is to be believed.” Her hushed voice is drowned out by the uproar of his siblings and he catches a glimpse of Dupain-Cheng jumping in place.

“I can’t believe he actually said yes.” Thomas.

“I can’t believe she’s actually into him,” Drake.

“I had good money on him making a fool of himself, shame.” Todd, who then gets elbowed by Grayson. He ignores them all, staring down at the increasingly embarrassed girl before him.

He goes to speak but a pink blur is knocking Tsurugi on the ground in a heap of limbs. They’re giggling and babbles about double dates filter through so he doesn’t worry too much and then a weight settles on his shoulder, surprising him. Agreste had somehow snuck up on him and was patting him in a false sense of comradery.

“Well that was an interesting turn of events. They grow up so fast,” he fake sniffles, wiping nonexistent tears from his eyes. Damian is not fond of the familiar theatrics. “I agree with your siblings, I didn't think you would agree. Especially with the looks of bloody murder you were giving us during practice today.”

He scoffs and lets the subtle accusation roll off his back. Agreste continues as if he weren’t interrupted.

“Clearly you two flirt the same way. Violently.” He’s cut off from speaking as Tsurugi had hit him with one of the discarded swords from her place on the floor.

“At least I don’t hesitate or dance around my intended target like a fool, like you two,” she was pouting but her voice held traces of humour and inside jokes that had Dupain-Cheng whining like a child and Agreste acting all sheepish.

“Yeah, okay, that’s fair but can you blame us?” Agreste went ignored as everyone devolved into laughter at their antics.

Damian chanced a glance at Tsurugi to see her very comfortable with Dupain-Cheng’s weight on top of her, laughing at Agreste’s expense. She must have felt his eyes on her and glance at him shyly, laughter dying to a small smile on her lips.

Damian thought to himself that Friday couldn’t come fast enough.

#maribat #mgi trope tussle #enemies to lovers #damigami #no beta this is war #tumblr do me a solid #dont hide my posts #am i forgetting any tags?#i hope not #i did in fact forget some tags #ml x dc #mlb x dc

64 notes · View notes

tchallasbabymama · 4 years ago

Text

Ménage à Trois Chapter 8

Hey lovelies, here’s the next chapter of Ménage à Trois a day early! I’ll be honest, I only had 10 chapters mapped out for this originally, but I’m not really ready to let them go just yet so I’m thinking this story might end at around 13 chapters. We’ll see.

Check out my masterlist to read my other stories, and let me know if you want to be tagged in anything! Enjoy 😘

Word Count: 6594

CW: smut

T’Challa sat back in his desk chair and let out a deep sigh. It had been a rough week trying to convince the US government to continue their cooperation without Theodore, but they eventually came around and “allowed” the liaison position to replace an ambassador. It didn’t help that Theodore had been bad-mouthing Zora and the king to anyone who would listen, and unfortunately, lots of people listened. That is until some of those photos of Theodore and his mistress were mysteriously sent to Mrs. Thompson’s phone from an unknown number. That shut him up real quick. However, some of the damage had already been done. Thankfully, Zora had no interest in working in the world of politics and could care less about her reputation among that crowd.

Not only had the week been difficult because of work, but T’Challa was also missing his lady. Zora had flown back to New York to pack up her life, and she would be back in about a week, but he couldn’t wait that long. By the time three days had passed, he was already getting antsy. “Is this what it is like when I go on missions?” he wondered to himself.

He missed her loud laughter and the twinkle in her eye when she looked up at him. It just wasn’t the same seeing her in hologram form; it wasn’t anywhere close to as good as the real thing. Despite that, he looked forward to her morning calls. She would call him as she got ready for bed and tell him about her day as she detangled her hair, and T’Challa loved watching the look of determination on her face as she worked her way through every curl and kink. Some nights it was hidden under a solid layer of clay, and he’d tease her about looking like Hulk in her green mask. He didn’t get to see her like that often, but he liked it, and he wanted more of it. Something about seeing her in that relaxed state made him want to lay his head on her chest and doze off with her, but, unfortunately, as her day was winding down, his was picking up. He smiled as he thought back to their conversation earlier that day and the words that almost left his mouth when they said goodbye.

“I love you.”

He almost said it. He wasn’t sure where it came from, but it felt as natural as breathing.

“Sweet dreams, Babygirl. I...will talk to you tomorrow.” He had caught himself right before the words came tumbling out, but she didn’t notice his awkwardness thanks to a yawn that overtook her as he spoke. When she ended the call, he sat there in a stupor, unable to wrap his mind around what had just happened. It’s not that he couldn’t believe he was falling in love with Zora, that was pretty easy for him to believe, but T’Challa was surprised at how deeply he felt the words as they sat on his tongue. They were his truth that even he didn’t know until that moment. He felt a warm glow emanating from within him as he thought about his feelings for her, but it was quickly tamped out by the looming anxiety of what he knew he had to do regarding his other truth. T’Challa had no doubt in his mind that he loved Zora, but he had been lying to her the whole time about who and what he was. She had been kept in the dark about his identity because of her ties to the U.S. government, but T’Challa couldn’t hide behind that excuse anymore.

A call interrupted his thinking, and his mother’s image was projected into the air.

“Molo, mama.”

“Molo, unyana. Are you busy?”

“Not too busy for you.”

“That’s exactly what I wanted to hear. Change into something you can get dirty and come down to the garden.”

Ramonda ended the call before he could protest, and he chuckled, knowing she did it on purpose. The king stood and stretched out his body after sitting for so long, and he left his office to change into something a little less royal.

“How are you today, mama?” T’Challa asked as he kissed Ramonda’s cheek, interrupting the song she was humming as she watered her hanging flowers.

“You would know if you hadn’t skipped breakfast,” she taunted with an eyebrow raised as he smiled sheepishly back at her.

“I did not skip breakfast. I just had it in my quarters.”

“Mmmhm. Talking to Zora again?”

T’Challa playfully rolled his eyes and groaned. “Mama-”

“Don’t ‘mama’ me, boy. I already know,” she knelt down on her padded mat as she watered her fire lilies. “You know, in all the weeks she has been here, I have been able to spend very little time with her. Hopefully, that will change soon.” She eyed her son, and he nodded under her piercing glare.

“Yes, ma’am. I believe you will like her.”

“Oh, I already do. Zora is a lovely girl, T’Challa. You have chosen well, but then again, you always have had good taste in women.”

“Of course I do; I learned from the best,” he smiled at her as he crouched down and started pulling weeds.

“So, how is she?”

Ramonda smiled to herself as she watched T’Challa’s face brighten at the thought of her.

“Zora is well. She is still wrapping up loose ends in New York, but she is excited about her new job when she gets back.”

“I cannot say I am surprised at her appointment. She seems perfect for the position.”

“She is, mama...she is,” he said with a far-off look on his face and a dreamy smile holding firm on his cheeks.

“I bet. Have you told her yet?”

T’Challa’s voice caught in his throat.

“No, not exactly-”

“T’Challa!”

“I know, I know,” he rubbed the back of his neck, completely forgetting about the dirt on his hands.

“They have been here how long now, three months? You need to tell that girl before you make it worse than it already is. You should have told her the moment you decided you wanted to be with her.”

“It was not that simple.”

“And why not?” she asked with a hand on her hip.

“We went into this thinking there would be an end date,” he sighed. “Zora would leave soon and go back to America, so there was no need to get serious. She had already been looking for other jobs because she hated working under Theodore, but our relationship ended up blooming into this big, beautiful thing. It became more than I expected it to be, but now it might all come crumbling down because I have been keeping a huge part of myself from her. And M’Baku had to keep my secret, too...I do not think it will go well for either of us, but myself especially.”

The king pulled the unwanted plants from the ground and roughly threw them in a large basket, taking his frustration out on the soon-to-be compost. Ramonda looked over at her son, and her eyes softened at the sad furrow in his brow. She reached out and placed her hand over his. “Unyana, the longer you wait, the worse the outcome will be.”

“I just do not know how to come out and say ‘hey Zora, I have been lying to you this entire time’ without hurting her.”

“It might be inevitable, T’Challa, but that is not to say she will not eventually come around.”

“I hope so,” he sighed, and the two of them went back to gardening in comfortable silence. After a few more minutes of the hot sun beating down on them, Ramonda spoke again.

“So you said she is still seeing M’Baku?”

“Yes, and I believe things are going well.”

“Good for her. Does he love her as you do?”

“Yes, he-” A look of horror washed over T’Challa’s face while a smirk settled on his mother’s.

“Do not look so surprised. You are always the last to know.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, everyone can see how much you love that girl. Have you considered a future for your relationship?”

“So diplomatic. Is this how I sound to everybody?” T’Challa chuckled. Ramonda lightly slapped his arm, and he gave in. “Alright, alright. Yes, I have considered it.”

“But?”

“But it is complicated with M’Baku involved as well. Well, not complicated, but definitely something that requires a conversation.”

“A conversation you just now realized you need to have,” Ramonda said while slowly nodding along. “Well, your great-great-grandmother, Queen Asha, married both the River tribe and Border tribe chiefs. And I believe it was your great-great-great-great-grandfather, King Jidenna, who had seven wives.”

“That is entirely too many.”

“I agree, but what I am saying is do not worry about his relationship with her. It has no bearing on where yours can go. She would make an excellent queen and an excellent chieftess if I do say so myself.”

T’Challa smiled from ear to ear at the thought of Zora ruling beside him before looking down at his beads and noticing the time. He let out a deep sigh, having enjoyed his time spent with Ramonda but not wanting it to end so soon. His free time was over, and he had to get back to running his kingdom. He pulled the last few weeds out of the ground and carried the full basket over to the composter on the other side of the garden, dumping out the contents into the putrid container and shutting the lid tight. He waved goodbye to her as he walked back toward the palace, stuck in his head about how to tell Zora his secret.

Ramonda sat back on her heels as he walked away, and she shook her head before turning back to her flowers and sighing. “T’Chaka, your son is a handful.”

--------

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

“I can’t see, T’Challa,” Zora giggled as he carefully led her out of the car and down the walkway of her new home. As part of her new job, she was given a choice between an upgraded suite at the palace or her own house. She sort of missed cooking for herself, so she chose the house. As much as she loved living in the palace, she had never lived alone before and jumped at the opportunity to get her Ari Lennox on. Besides, she could always stay with either of her boyfriends in their palaces whenever she wanted.

T’Challa grabbed her waist to still her movement and pulled her flush against him, kissing behind her ear. “Are you ready?”

“Mmm, for what?” she asked as she bit her lip and wound her hips back on him.

“Behave,” he rumbled in her ear, making her flood her panties. “Are you ready to see the house?”

“I’ve already seen it, baby; I picked it.”

“True, but you have not seen it like this.”

Zora felt his hands undo the sash, and as it fell away, her eyes slowly blinked open and focused on the vision before her. Her home was surrounded by a beautiful landscape of tropical flowers, and there was a swing to the right of the door.

T’Challa held out his hand to her, and she took it, “There is more inside.”

Zora followed him into the house, and her jaw dropped. It was already decorated and furnished, and somehow it was exactly what she wanted, right down to the art on the walls. The plush teal velvet sectional was obviously the centerpiece of the living room, and she immediately walked over and ran her fingers along the soft fibers. She wandered into the kitchen and almost drooled when she saw that T’Challa had made sure it was fully stocked with her favorites. The six-burner stovetop caught her eye, and her wheels already started turning, bringing up memories of how she used to cook huge meals for her loved ones. She made a mental note to bring that energy to Wakanda and host some get-togethers.

She continued her self-guided tour with T’Challa on her heels and slowly made her way up the stairs and to her bedroom. T’Challa opened the door for her, and when she stepped through, her eyes became misty.

“T’Challa...how did you do all of this? This is...this is perfect.” She walked to the four-poster canopy bed and sat down to test the mattress. “Yep, perfect.”

“Wait until you see the closet,” the king teased, laughing as Zora got up and ran to the closet doors.

She flung them open and gasped, “T’Challa, you didn’t!” The closet had been expanded to fit her existing wardrobe and an entirely new wardrobe T’Challa had gifted her. She walked in and excitedly started flipping through the garments one at a time with a massive grin on her face. “This is too much.”

“Then stop smiling,” he walked closer and rested his hand on her hip as she continued to flip through the clothing rack.

Zora turned around in his arms to thank him when she caught a glimpse of a full shoe rack on the other side of the closet. She damn near pushed T’Challa to the side and made her way over to the shoes in no time flat, picking up a simple pair of black stilettos and flipping them over to see the bright red soles.

“Holy shit, these are Louboutins.” She carefully placed them back as if they would break and turned to face her man. “How did you do all this? Everything is exactly what I wanted.”

“Keisha may or may not have shown me your “Home Sweet Home” Pinterest board.”

“Of course she did,” Zora laughed. When she stopped, her voice took on that smoky timbre it tended to get when she was aroused, “You know there’s one more thing I really wanted that I haven’t gotten yet.”

“And what is that?” He asked, closing the gap between them and tilting her chin up towards him.

“We need to christen it.”

“How do we do that?” T’Challa captured her lips with his, and she melted into his arms.

“I want you to fuck me in every room in this house.”

“You haven’t even seen the home office or the meditation room yet-”

“I’ll see it later,” she reached up to undo his buttons, but he stopped her by grabbing her wrists in his hand.

“Don’t forget who’s in charge here.”

“I don’t care right now. Just fuck me.”

“You don’t care, eh? Alright, we will see,” he said as he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder.

“T’Challa, stop,” she giggled out.

“Nope, you said you want me to fuck you in every room. Let us go where your neighbors can watch me slut your pretty ass out,” he said with a slap to the back of her thigh.

Part of Zora wanted to protest. She didn’t need her introduction to the neighborhood to be her getting her back blown out by the king, but those feelings were overridden the moment he reminded her of her position.

He took her back downstairs and toward the back of the house to a wide-open sunroom. She could see her new neighbors relaxing in their backyard, and her heart rate picked up when he set her down. What Zora didn’t know yet was that although she could see them, they couldn’t see her through the glass thanks to Shuri’s cloaking tech, so the thrill of possibly getting caught washed over her from head to toe.

“Take off your dress.”

“You do it,” she teased.

“Zora, I will not repeat myself,” he growled as he walked her back towards the glass wall. Fear flashed in her eyes for half a second before it was replaced by lust. He had a way of doing that to her that nobody else had ever done before. His presence alone made her tremble, and her body did just that as her back hit the glass. Despite how his dominance made her body melt, she still felt like putting up a fight.

“Then I’m not doing it,” she crossed her arms and looked up at him with a smirk.

“Take off the fucking dress, Zora. Now,” he grabbed her jaw roughly and made her meet his piercing gaze. She shuddered but held firm until his hand traveled up her inner thigh and zeroed in on her clit. Zora moaned as his middle finger applied the perfect amount of pressure while moving around her clit in circles. “No panties today...I see you wanted this. Do my fingers feel good on your pussy?”

“Mhm,” she moaned out louder as her teeth lightly clamped down on her bottom lip. T’Challa’s fingers experimented with different speeds and pressures, not letting her get too used to any pattern before they dipped down and collected some of her wetness. Right as her moans grew louder and higher, he removed his fingers and stuffed them down her throat.

“What does that sweet pussy taste like today?”

“Hmm, an orange creamsicle?”

“Mmm. Too bad I won’t be tasting it.”

“What? Why not?” she whined.

“Because you are disobedient. A good little slut would have taken off her dress and sucked my dick right here when I told her to, but you chose not to be that today. You decided you’d rather push my buttons than get fucked like a good girl,” he leaned into her ear, “but now I have to fuck you like a bitch out of line. You have clearly forgotten my rules and need to be reminded who is in charge here.”

Zora’s breath caught in her chest as the king yanked her head back by her hair.

“No traffic lights tonight, just the safeword.” He bit her ear. “Say it.”

“Sunset,” she whispered.

“Take off your dress,” he murmured between bites to her neck and shoulder.

“Uh-uh,” Zora shook her head and smiled mischievously at T’Challa. He pushed her into the wall and ripped her dress down the middle. Before she could protest, his hand was covering her mouth.

“You are only making things worse for yourself. Now, get on your knees.”

Zora had one more ounce of defiance in her and shook her head again, her words muffled under his large hand. Without saying anything, T’Challa threw her over his shoulder again and crossed the room to sit in a chair by the glass wall. He set her down, throwing her over his lap while she squirmed in his grasp. He held her down with one hand and slapped both of her cheeks with the other.

Zora cried out as he rained blow after blow down on her, alternating sides and watching her ass jiggle and redden. He spoke between slaps, “What are my rules?”

“I do what- Ow! I-I do what you say when you s-say it.”

Slap.

“And?”

Slap.

“I am to call you Sir unless you give m-me permission otherwise,” she spoke as her eyes watered and he massaged her cheeks to relieve the burning.

“And what’s the last one, Babygirl?”

“Bratty behavior will get me punished.”

His hands both came down on her backside, and she yelled out his name, forgetting herself. T’Challa growled and pulled her off his lap as he stood up. “On your knees.”

She obeyed, and her legs shook as she carefully knelt down and sat on her haunches with her hands in her lap and her mouth wide open.

“Oh, now you want to be a good girl?” T’Challa laughed as he unzipped his pants and let them fall to the floor, freeing his already hard dick. He tapped it on her tongue as he teased, “Tired of being my bitch already?”

“No, Sir,” she said around the thickness of her tongue.

He grabbed her hair and tilted her head back before sticking out his tongue and allowing his spit to drip into her mouth. His tongue soon followed in a sloppy kiss.

“Good. Now suck this dick.”

His grip on her hair tightened as her mouth enveloped him. Her long tongue flickered along the underside of his shaft as he carefully thrust his dick down her throat. Zora’s head swiveled up and down his length, taking every last inch like he had trained her to do. He held her head down when her nose reached his manicured pubic hair, and when he pulled her all the way off to see her face and his dick covered with spit, he couldn’t help but plunge back inside and fuck her face.

The wet sloshing sounds coming from Zora’s mouth were all that could be heard as T’Challa’s dick made itself at home in her throat.

“Fuck, Babygirl, this throat,” T’Challa groaned, not letting up on her as involuntary tears fell from her eyes. He was used to that by now and simply ignored them as she looked up at him with her doe eyes. “You look so pretty like this, with my dick in your mouth.”

Zora moaned around him, and the vibrations made his toes curl.

“You were made to please me, and that is all you are good for. You are worthless without my dick in your mouth,” he pulled her head off his dick, marveling at the bridge of spit still connecting them. “Say it.”

“I’m worthless without your dick in my mouth,” she slurred.

“Good girl,” he chuckled darkly as his hand ran up and down his shaft while she looked up at him with hopeful eyes. “Not good enough yet, though.”

His hand sped up, and she could see his dick twitching, so she opened her mouth for him.

“Close that shit,” T’Challa seethed through his clenched teeth.

Zora shut her mouth, and shortly after, warm squirts of liquid painted her face as he grunted above her.

The next thing she knew, she was being pulled to her feet and her breasts were pushed up against the glass.

“All they have to do is look over here, and they will see you covered in my cum,” he whispered into her ear as he entered her from behind, “taking my dick like a good bitch. They can see how filthy you are.”

Her back arched as her hands pressed into the glass to steady herself. T’Challa’s hand found its way back to her curls and pulled her head back as his hips pistoned inside her. He licked a stripe from the base of her neck to her temple, tasting himself on her skin and making her shudder and clench around him. His other hand gripped her hip so tight it would probably leave a bruise as he pulled her ass back onto him. He wouldn’t even let her throw it back; he controlled every move her body made. He arched her back deeper, making her bend more at the waist.

Zora’s eyes rolled to the back of her head when the hand on her hip moved down to circle her pearl again. She nearly lost her mind as his thrusts got deeper somehow, and his hips rolled into hers, stirring her insides, before removing his hand and going right back to his punishing strokes. Her already sore ass stung as his pelvis made contact, and his balls slapped her clit. He let go of her hair and grabbed both of her hips, fucking her deep as she screamed out for the heavens. Her body tensed up and released all over him. Her contracting walls almost brought him along with her, but his self-control was out of this world. T’Challa pulled out and turned her around, wrapping her legs around his waist and pushing her back into the glass as he thrust into her.

“T’Cha- Sir!”

He chuckled and whispered in her ear. “No, say my name Babygirl. I want them to know who you belong to. Who owns this pussy?”

“M-me,” she looked him in his eye and challenged him, wanting him to go harder. And he did.

T’Challa used gravity to Zora’s disadvantage and dropped her on his dick, meeting her thrust for thrust and going as deep as he could possibly go inside her. She screamed out, unable to contain her volume any longer. Her nails dug into his back, and the cool chill of the glass against her back reminded her of her possible audience, taking her over the edge.

“T’Challa, baby, my pussy-”

“Wrong. Whose pussy?” He smiled teasingly as she looked around the room, eyes unable to focus on any one thing. “Uh-uh, look at me. There you go, good girl. Now tell me, who owns this pussy, Zora?”

“Y-you do.”

He groaned in approval. “And what’s my fucking name?”

“T’Challa!”

“Who?”

“King T’Challa!”

“Mmm, one more time Babygirl. Say it again.”

“King T’Challa! Mmmm, you’re gonna make me cum again.”

“Do it,” he slapped her thigh, “and tell me what I want to hear.”

His hips never faltered as her walls gripped him tight. Her voice was hoarse and uneven, but she was able to croak out as she came, “This is your pussy, baby.”

Hearing the words sent him over the edge right behind her, and the two of them stayed in that position, catching their breath and gazing into each others’ eyes warmly. Zora loved that about T’Challa. He could be as rough as he wanted to be, but he could turn it off with the flip of a switch and be tender with her.

“How do you feel?” he asked, his voice low.

“Sore.”

T’Challa nodded and carried her back into the main house and up the stairs to her bathroom as she clung to him and buried her face in his neck. He set her down on the edge of the enormous clawfoot tub and started the water before disappearing out the bathroom door and reappearing a couple of minutes later with a cup of tea. He handed it to her and grabbed some bath salts, pouring them in as she sipped and soothed her aching throat. Once the tub was almost full, he helped her in and slid in behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist as she leaned her head back against his shoulder.

“Are you ready for your first day?”

“I think so. I’m still nervous about not being qualified.”

“Theodore was unqualified, but you are simply inexperienced. There is a difference. You will find your stride and do great things. I can feel it.”

“You better, you’re the one who hired me,” she chuckled as he wrapped his arms tighter around her and kissed her neck. “Thank you, by the way. For everything. The job, the house...for being you. Thank you.”

“You are more than welcome,” he said between kisses, making her giggle.

“T’Challa, I’m still sore.”

“So I cannot kiss you?”

“That’s all you get.”

“That is all I need.”

--------

Zora had spent the whole weekend alone as she settled into her new home. T’Challa had to get back to the palace to get some work done, so he didn’t end up staying that first night with her. At first, she was upset he had to leave, but then she rejoiced in getting her place all to herself. She didn’t wear a stitch of clothing all weekend, and she spent most of her time dancing around her living room and getting in the right headspace in her meditation room.

By Monday, she actually felt ready to do her job, something she hadn’t felt up until that point. Zora smiled at herself in the mirror as she adjusted the lapel on her favorite electric blue pantsuit and checked her outfit one last time before heading out the door. Thankfully, her home wasn’t very far from the palace, but T’Challa had gifted her with a hovercar to make her commute even easier. Before he left, he gave her a quick tutorial, and she picked it right up. As she slid in the driver seat and turned the vehicle on with her kimoyo beads, Zora smiled, thinking about how much she loved the Wakandan tech. “This is so fucking cool,” she mused as she ran her fingers over the dashboard.

When she pulled up at the palace, she grinned at seeing her own parking space near the entrance. She got out of her car at the same time Akil, the River tribe elder, arrived for the council meeting.

“Molo Zora! Unjani namhlanje?” he raised his eyebrow at her, testing out her Xhosa even though he was a former wardog and spoke English fluently. Zora had always liked Akil since he was one of the few council members that were initially open to her being there.

“Ndiphilile, Akil. And you?” she sent him a knowing glance with a healthy dose of playful attitude as he stepped out of his car.

“Bast woke me up this morning, and the sun is still in the sky. I cannot complain,” the older man smiled at her as they walked into the palace. “Are you excited about your first day?”

“I was nervous, but all that went away when I pulled up.”

“Because you saw me.”

Zora playfully shoved him as he cackled.

“But seriously though, you will do well. King T’Challa would not have chosen you otherwise.”

Zora turned to smile at Akil and caught sight of M’Baku coming down the hall. Her smile widened, and he turned to see what had gotten her so happy, quickly understanding her change in demeanor when he saw the chief. Zora excused herself from Akil and made her way over to her man, giving him a chaste, work-appropriate kiss.

“This color looks beautiful on you,” he held her hand in his and made her do a spin for him.

“Thank you,” she giggled. “Want to come see my office?”

“Of course. I am sorry I could not make it down this weekend to see the house.”

“Can you make it to my housewarming tonight?”

“Of course.”

“Then don’t worry about it. You’re gonna love it.”

They got to her office, and T’Challa was already there waiting with her paperwork. She took a look around the room and noticed how different it looked from when Theodore occupied the space. The walls were a warm burnt orange, and the furniture was all hand-carved Jabari wood. There were pictures on the desk of her and her mom and some with her and Keisha. Her framed degree hung on the wall behind her desk above a full bookcase. She ran her hands over the titles from throughout the diaspora and smiled, already thinking of curling up on her couch with a few of them. The Wakandan language and history books caught her eye, and as she reached for one of the history books, T’Challa intercepted her hand.

“Before you do that, there is something I need to tell you, but now is not a good time. How about after your party tonight?”

Zora’s heart sped up, and he tried not to notice, so he pulled her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles.

“Everything is ok, I promise,” he said, ignoring how M’Baku narrowed his eyes.

Zora’s first day went by smoothly. She mostly just read over and signed her contract after the council meeting, where she was officially reintroduced as American Liaison. The council gave her a round of applause, and she felt a weight lift from her chest upon realizing they wouldn’t be against her appointment like she thought they would. Another weight stayed, though. One put there by T’Challa earlier that day. His words continued to echo through her mind, haunting her until it was time for her to go home.

“There is something I need to tell you,” she mocked aloud as she packed up her things. She was frustrated and nervous, and she was thankful her housewarming party would be small and hopefully not too draining.

The rest of the night ended up being a blur. She greeted her friends when they arrived and held a couple of conversations as she kept the food and drinks flowing, but everyone could tell she was in another world.

“You should not have said anything earlier,” M’Baku grumbled to T’Challa before taking a sip of his beer.

“Would you prefer her to read about it before I tell her?” T’Challa rolled his eyes. “Either way, this is not going to go well.”

“For either of us.”

“Not necessarily. It is my secret, not yours.”

“I do not think she will see it that way.”

T’Challa nodded, and his eyes trailed Zora as she went to the kitchen to pop open another bottle of wine.

Zora needed to hide from the crowd for a moment, so she disappeared to the kitchen. Bahiti and Keisha had noticed her behavior and were concerned for their friend, so they followed behind her moments later.

“Is something wrong, Zora?”

“You’re acting kinda funny, and you normally love a party in your honor. What’s going on, sis?”

Zora chuckled. She was so in her head that she was missing a fun time with her friends. Her eyes swept over the dozen or so folks in her living room who had all come to celebrate her and her new home, and she suddenly felt a wave of guilt. Zora hadn’t meant to ignore her guests, but thankfully they had kept themselves busy. T’Challa and M’Baku chatted with Dakarai as Mandisa and Asha sat on the couch giggling over who knows what with a couple of people Zora had met in the dance class she had started taking a few weeks ago. The music set a chill tone for the gathering, and Zora thought it was nice getting to see her friends mingle with each other. Her friends from the dance class melded well with her work friends and the friends she made on her adventures around the country. Even with royalty and Okoye present, the vibe was relaxed, so Zora followed suit and put on a smile for the rest of the party.

Since it was a work night, people didn’t stay too late, and at around 10:30, Zora found herself cleaning up what little mess was left behind when she felt a hand circle her waist.

“Did you enjoy yourself tonight?” T’Challa asked, nuzzling his head into her neck.

“Yes, but I would’ve enjoyed it a lot more if you hadn’t done the whole ‘we need to talk’ thing earlier,” she rolled her eyes and tried to get out of his arms, but he just turned her around to face him.

T’Challa sighed, “We do need to talk.”

“Ok, then talk.”

“My sweet, let us sit down first-”

“No, I don’t like this. Somebody talk, now.”

“Zora, please sit. Trust us. Please,” he felt a lump form in his throat at the words, knowing what followed would surely break her trust in him.

She eyed them both suspiciously before taking a seat on her couch. M’Baku sat next to her, and T’Challa started pacing as he searched for the words.

“Not this pacing shit again,” Zora thought.

“Zora,” T’Challa began, prompting M’Baku to grab Zora’s hand in his. “There is something I have not told you. Something very important. The only reason I kept it from you is because you worked for the U.S. government, and it is something I want to keep from the rest of the world for the time being, but now that you work for Wakanda, you need to know...”

Zora’s body felt like lead as she listened to his words and went over every possible worst scenario in her head. T’Challa’s deep breath unnerved her, and she braced herself for whatever came next.

“How familiar are you with the Black Panther?”

“The superhero?”

M’Baku rolled his eyes as T’Challa chuckled.

“Yes, the superhero.”

“Um, not very. He kinda just shows up, does his thing, and dips.”

“Yes, he is a very busy man.”

“You know him? Is that what this is about?” Zora rolled her eyes and sighed in relief. “You had me thinking-”

Just then, T’Challa’s suit appeared on his body, and Zora screamed, jumping back into M’Baku’s lap. Her hands were cupped over her mouth in disbelief as she stared at her boyfriend, the Black Panther, in all his suited-up glory.

“You...you’re- how?”

“It is a long story, but-”

“No, not ‘how are you the Black Panther,’ how the fuck could you lie to me all this time?”

“There it is,” T’Challa thought to himself. He knew the lie would overshadow the news.

“Zora, we went into this for just a good time. I cannot divulge this to just anybody-”

M’Baku shook his head to get the king to stop before he went too far, but he didn’t see it in time.

“Just anybody?!”

“Zora, that is not-”

“Then tell me this: if I wasn’t working for you, would you even tell me now?”

He hesitated, and Zora’s eyes blew wide open.

“So you can fuck me, but you can’t trust me unless I’m under contract?” Zora said as she climbed off of M’Baku. “And you-”

“Zora, he was acting under orders. Please do not be upset at him.”

“I don’t give a fuck about your orders, T’Challa, and I don’t care that you’re the Black Panther. I’m fucking pissed because you two lied to my face for months.” M’Baku reached for her arm, and she snatched it back.

“I had to. I could not let Theodore or the Secre-”

“I wouldn’t have told them, and you fucking know it,” she snarled. “How long were you gonna keep it up? Since I was ‘just anybody’ would you have ever told me? Would you have even spoken to me after we left?” Zora’s mind was racing, and her breathing became shallow.

“Maybe you should sit down, Babygirl.”

“Don't call me that,” she said between breaths. M’Baku tried to put his arm around her, but she pushed it off.

“Ok...ok. Zora, please come sit down.”

She listened, but not because he asked. She was getting lightheaded, and a cold sweat had started to take over her body.

“I need...you...to leave.”

“Zora, I can hear your heartbeat. We will leave, but you need to slow down your breathing. In and out, just like that,” he breathed with her for a few moments before the panic left her eyes anger filled them.

“You can hear my heart beating?”

“Y-yes, I-”

“Get out.”

“Zora,” M’Baku tried to get through to her, but it was no use.

“Get out. Both of you.”

“Babyg-”

“Get out!” she yelled, making T’Challa hang his head in shame. “Get the fuck out of my house, and if it doesn’t have to do with work, don’t talk to me. We’re through.”

“Zora,” both called to her, voices cracking with tears threatening to fall from their eyes.

“Save it,” she turned and walked up her stairs before stopping and turning back to T’Challa. “I’ll need the next week off.”

“Anything,” he pleaded, bringing tears to her eyes. She wanted to trust them, but she never could trust a liar, and that’s exactly what they were. Nothing they said felt true anymore, and she questioned everything they had ever told her. She ran up the stairs and slammed her bedroom door closed before they could see her cry, and she held it in tight until she heard her front door close behind them. Next Chapter

Taglist: @dersha89, @ljstraightnochaser, @maddeningmayhem, @theblulife, @motheroffae, @love-mesome-me, @toni9

#cecewritessometimes #black panther fic #black!oc #t'challa #m’baku #t’challa x oc x m’baku #zora #throuple

59 notes · View notes

valwrite · 4 years ago

Text

the bella-vista avenue book club; daveed diggs

masterlist

summary: if only she’d double checked her Amazon shopping cart, Y/N L/N wouldn’t find herself torn between what book to give her hot neighbor next.

warnings: fluff, cheesiness, a slither of smut, mentions of a car accident, cooper is a basic dog name, i know but stfu about it.

fic style: oneshot.

word count: 6455.

author’s note: this fic took way too long to write, bye. no but for real, i’ve been back in uni for one month and so far i’ve: done way too many assignments; had more breakdowns than a disney child star; had a covid scare; and spontaneously dyed my hair dark blue/green at 4am instead of finishing an essay. we’re doing well, folks :)

It took exactly twenty one days for the loneliness to kick in.

On the day the lockdown was first announced, Y/N L/N felt the most confusing sentiment of relief and fear blended together. She'd spent just about the whole day in the meeting from Hell, during which three people had stormed out of after countless shouting matches had broken out and her boss had blatantly fired one of the guys from her department, right in front of everyone. When she did eventually get out of said meeting- a whole two hours later than her usual work days ended -, she was struggling with an impending migraine, threatening to blur her eyesight the whole drive home. She arrived home safely that evening, by the force of some miracle, only to find countless texts from relatives and friends alike, detailing the quarantine announcement and all the rules that came with it. Though concerned over the state of the world battling against the rapidly spreading virus, Y/N was just glad there would be no meetings for a while.

Quarantine was exciting at first. In the normal day-to-day life she lead, Y/N often found herself falling short on time to do things she truly enjoyed. There was just always one more task needing done at work; one more errand to complete; one more mile to run. By the time she stepped into her home come the end of the day, her eyelids were always battling to stay opened. So, it was very fair to say that the sudden infinite amount of free time had her feeling rather excited.

Day two and she'd already set herself a list of goals to spend all this time on, a chance to do all the things her schedule got in the way of. Of course, with the situation at hand, all these goals were modified to be achievable from within the confines of her home. The first goal she achieved was knitting a sweater. Granted, it was a mess she'd ended up trying to turn into a dog sweater only to watch as her fur-baby, Cooper, chewed it into rags.

There was no goal on the list to be good at all those goals.

In the following weeks, Y/N found herself trying her hand at pottery - she both made and broke a mug -, baking - the first cake burned but the second she made was actually pretty edible -, guitar playing - it really was just like riding a bike: one never really forgets how to do it - and many other hobbies. In between finding her artistic calling in life, it seemed family quiz nights became the norm.

But twenty one days, that's when she finally took notice of just how lonely living had become for her. A full twenty one days of not having made eye contact with anyone outside of a screen or who happened to not own four paws and a tail.

The loneliness wasn't unique to her, she was very aware. But she was stuck quarantining in a house all by herself, hours away from any of her family and she knew it was going to be a fair while before she even spoke with someone face to face. Much longer than most people. She was still at the point where even bringing up the thought of going to the store- with a trusted mask on, of course - would send her mother into a spiral of worse case scenarios and her father would be threatening to call her doctor.

As neurotic as the two could be about her health, Y/N completely understood their reactions. Things had never really been the same since her accident, even with the years gone by.

She was sat on her sofa- well, actually, sat on her floor, with her back against the sofa - when the door bell rang. She was up at lighting speed, bounding her way over to the front of the house before peaking a look through the peep hole and finding no one there. Unfazed by this, she unlocked the door and pulled it open to unveil a package at her doorstep, the ever familiar Amazon logo splashed across it. In the past few weeks, the delivery service and her bank account had become well acquainted, with most of her new found hobbies being aided by it.

In a matter of seconds, she'd picked up the package, shut the door and made her way into her kitchen, a drawer being pulled open as she dug through it for a pair of scissors. The package was ripped up and there she found a sight she wasn't awaiting, her eyes widening ever so slightly and a "Huh." noise escaping her.

There, laying on the remaining cardboard package, sat a hardback copy of A Tale Of Two Cities. And right next to it sat an identical copy, both of them staring up at Y/N.

“This can't be right, right?” She proposed the question down at Cooper, who'd at some point sauntered in to the kitchen and sat down at her feet, his tail wagging lazily upon being spoken to.

Sure enough, when she checked her receipt online, there was only one copy on the list. She wondered if it was perhaps a “buy one, get one free” kind of deal but quickly found no evidence to back up her hypothesis.

Thinking of what the right thing to do would be, Y/N on instinct began to investigate how she could possibly return the additional book they'd sent to her. As she came to the realization that it would entail her having to return both books and, then, waiting once again for a copy to be sent to her, she changed her mind instantly. A few other solutions came to mind: she could mail it to her sister-in-law, she was just as much of a book worm as Y/N; or she could keep it until the next time she needs a birthday present for someone; or she could just keep both of the copies, even if it felt a little wasteful.

It was only later on that very evening, as Y/N chopped away at some onions and was struggling to contain her tears- she had a spoon in her mouth because her mother swore it stopped you from crying, spoiler: it did not -, that the perfect idea struck.

In the corner of her eye she spotted him, strolling about his own kitchen. He hadn't lived next door for very long, he'd only moved in at the very start of the year, if she remembered correctly. And though they had never really spoken or interacted- polite waves and stiff smiles when spotting one another either leaving or arriving home wasn't exactly very conversational after all-, Y/N couldn't help but decide he was going to be the honorary recipient of the book. After all, what was the worst that could happen? Well, he could use the book to keep his fireplace alight, but Y/N was more eager to just think optimistically about it.

With her mind firmly made up, she neatly wrapped the book in some stray wrapping paper she'd found in her junk drawer and tied a neat, makeshift bow around it. His doorstep was only a couple feet from her own and it wasn't long till she was stood right in front of it, finger hovering over the doorbell as she wrestled with the thought off handing the present directly to him. She recalled one night, where her bedroom curtains had been wide open to let in the moonlight, and he'd walked past his own bedroom window, nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. The image of water dripping down those defined abs made her mind up and she placed the wrapped book next to his door, the little note she'd written taped on to it carefully.

Happy housewarming! I hope you're taking care during these trying time! - Y/N, your neighbor from door 27. p.s. Cooper (the German Shepherd) says sorry for peeing in your flowers :(

A few days later, as Y/N and Cooper arrived home from their daily walk, a mysterious package sat on the doorstep. What made it mysterious was the fact it wasn't from Amazon, nor from her local grocery store either. Cooper possessed no hesitation and dashed over to investigate, his tail beginning to wag as Y/N approached the front door.

“What is it, Coops?” She crouched down, her hand rubbing over the top of his head as his tongue dangled out of his mouth. There was a small piece of paper stuck on the package and, at first, she wondered if perhaps her attempt at a kind gesture had backfired and the hot neighbor had just dropped it back off. Then, she read the note. “Housewarming? Took you a while. This Dickens guy's good, hope he finally get's some popularity soon. - Daveed, your neighbor from door 28.” A smile crept onto her face as she learnt his name. It felt nice on her lips. His calligraphy skills only made the name look prettier. “P.S. check this book out, author is a real hidden gem. P.S.S. tell Cooper it's chill, I got my revenge and peed in his flowers.”

It was there on her doorstep, with a thin layer of sweat decorating her face and a tired out dog at her feet, that Y/N upgraded Daveed from hot neighbor to hot and funny neighbor.

It was almost like an otherworldly sign when Y/N stumbled over a chew toy the next day, her whole body slamming right into her bookcase and out from it fell a book, smacking her right on her head to add yet another bruise on to her list. Her mother had always joked that she bruised easier than a peach, partially on account of her incapability to walk five paces without stumbling over air or slipping on dry ground.

She let out a groan, her hand rubbing at the spot the book hit her and she reached down to grab her attacker- which lay face down - off of the floor. The cover turned out to be that of The Great Gatsby and the sudden urge to wrap it up, attach a note and drop it over at Daveed's doorstep became overwhelming. It still felt so personal to know his name.

Was she seriously about to use a book as an excuse to try catch a glimpse of her hot neighbor, who just yesterday was claiming to have peed on her flowers? Yes, yes she was. Because, after all, he was hot. And if society had taught her anything, it was that hot people were excused of everything. Okay, perhaps she was exaggerating just a little bit but it all added up to the same thing: Daveed was hot and she was thirsty.

Maybe quarantine really was beginning to have an effect on her.

A few hours later, Y/N was comfortably snuggled under her blankets in bed, the room illuminated by nothing but her television screen and the streetlights outside. A door opened somewhere, her anxious brain questioning if it was one of her own doors but the sudden laughter she could hear changed her train of thought quickly.

Oh my god, his laugh was music to her ears. And, oh my god, she'd actually made him laugh.

She lay back, wondering which part of her note had made Daveed laugh as consciousness slowly slipped away from her. One house away, her hot and funny neighbor was near mirroring her position in his own bed, his head replaying the note he'd received from the cute girl next door.

Not too sure about this author, he seems to have a fetish for big feet! I'm beginning to question exactly what kind of weird foot erotica you read, Daveed from door 28! -Y/N, your foot hating neighbor. P.S. this guy definitely needs more clout, can't you just picture his writing being used to teach the younger generations? P.S.S. Cooper isn't happy about you peeing in his flowers but he is happy about the treats.

Two days later, in the morning, Y/N was sat at her kitchen island. Her computer lay open in front of her, untouched for the past half hour as she flipped through the pages of her book and sipped away at the smoothie she'd blended up for herself. Cooper lay sound asleep under her seat, the occasional snore coming from the pup. It was those moments in her quarantine that she enjoyed most, just pure tranquility. It took her mind off of the loneliness.

A feeling overcame her, as the hairs on the back of her neck began to rise. It was almost like she could feel someone's eyes on her. She tore her own eyes away from the printed text and checked her surroundings vaguely. It was only when she looked straight ahead, out of the window that she spotted the intrusive stare of his.

They were sat in near parallel, him also sat at his kitchen island with a computer opened, only he had a mug of coffee instead of a smoothie. When their eyes made contact, he grinned at her, waving the book in his hand before pointing at the cover. The Great Gatsby.

He really was reading the book she'd sent over.

Mirroring his actions, she lifted up her own book, the one he'd sent over all those days ago. The Hobbit.

It was short, it was sweet and it was the longest they had ever interacted off paper. Even without verbal communication, so much was said between them both in that small instance. It was a sign that these little book deliveries were appreciated, they both cared enough to read whatever the other sent over.

Maybe it was time to consider Daveed her hot, funny and caring neighbor.

The book exchanges continued onward for weeks.

Daveed sent over a collection of fairy tales by the Grimm brothers, his attached note read: Thanks for putting me onto Fitzgerald, gonna have to see if the school board will let me teach his work in my lectures. Think they might be against it, what ya think? In the meantime, check these indie short stories out. Think Cooper will resonate with the wolf in the Red Ridding Hood story. -Daveed, your literature professor neighbor. P.S. Noticed the Raptors jersey on your washing line, tell your boyfriend the Warrior in me is unimpressed.

To which Y/N replied to with, alongside a copy of Twilight,: Cooper loved the Red Ridding Hood story, but he says you remind him of the grandmother in it. Speaking of wolves, check out this classic example of American literature, the lack of emotions this author puts into her writing is truly astounding. -Y/N, the Raptor next door. P.S. The Raptors jersey is mine, but I'll applaud you for smoothly trying to find out if I have a boyfriend. For the record, I do. He's tall, dark haired and lives in my imagination. P.S.S. Could you ask your girlfriend if she knows any good foundations? I'm thinking of changing mine.

He took less than a day to fire back with a copy of 50 Shades Of Grey: If Cooper is the wolf, and I'm the grandmother, would that make you the girl? I think the romance in this book is quite poignant, it really values the emotional over the physical. - Daveed, your grandmother neighbor. P.S. Not sure about my girlfriend's foundation, seeing as she doesn't exist, but I use L'Oreal. Very creamy, or whatever it is foundation is meant to be like. P.S.S. You looked cute in your paint splattered t-shirt the other day.

Not even an hour later, he opened his door to find a hardback of the Holy Bible and the following: I went into that book expecting a rush of happiness and sweetness, but ended up feeling scared and turned on in the most confusing way. I worry about your taste, Daveed, and that is why I'm recommending this book to you. This will cleanse you of all you've done wrong, my friend. -Y/N, your concerned neighbor. P.S. I'm not the girl, I'm the huntsman. P.S.S. Your dog is so cute, Cooper wants her/his number.

It took 45 days of lockdown for Y/N to finally venture out to her local grocers, tired of ordering food online and desperate for some human contact which didn't have to be separated by a great distance and united by a glass screen and a stable internet connection. She'd felt wrong; out of place; strange the whole time she'd been wandering up and down the aisles of the shop, her mask secured on her face and a near full basket hanging on her arm.

The fact Cooper was at home, holding down the fort for the time being gave her a little comfort.

Despite paying through self-service, and using a contactless card payment, her father's voice was ringing in her ears, scolding her for even taking the risk of stepping outdoors. Naturally, she appreciated his caring tendencies but she liked to consider herself old enough and smart enough to manage her own health problems.

With four bags stacked awkwardly in her arms, she took a few steps away from her car, attempting to peak over her shopping to see just where exactly the gate to her garden was. She could very faintly hear Cooper's excited whining, his paws scratching against the metal gate.

It was the sound of a voice, a very distinct voice, calling out her name that halted her movement and turned her head.

“Let me,” He, Daveed from door 28, paused, his hand clutching at his heaving chest. As her eyes drifted over him briefly, she took note of the trainers, the sweaty running shorts and, most of all, his bare chest, perfectly lined abs scattered along him. “get that for you.”

Before Y/N could so much as protest, Daveed had already snatched all four bags from her arms and was stood holding the gate open for her, a stupidly handsome smile decorating him. Her mask was still firmly held up but she smiled beneath it and done her best to share her gratitude with him.

“You don't need to do that.” Despite her words, she never attempted to take her bags back from him, instead cautiously slipping her way past him into her open garden. Cooper launched his paws up onto her, a bark of excitement escaping him before he licked at her arm and redirected his attention to Daveed. Cooper was still fairly young, not even a year old yet, but he was a fierce dog when it came to guarding his owner from any stranger. So, for Y/N to turn back and find him happily circling Daveed's legs, his favorite toy in his mouth and his tail wagging at lighting speed, it was purely a shock to her system.

And the clearest sign she'd ever seen that Daveed, whether he was a complete stranger to her or not, could be trusted.

“Where should I leave these?” He ignored her protest, effortlessly walking up the path of her garden with the heavy bags secure in his hands. Having him around her, all sweaty and heavy breathing and half dressed was more of a health hazard than her trip to the shops. Y/N began to wonder if it was legal to look so good.

“Uh, just,” She fished through her purse for her door key, avoiding the temptation to peak at his abs again. “on the table over there, if you don't mind.” She nodded her head in the direction of the small table sat out on her front porch and, within a couple seconds, she felt as Daveed brushed past her, so close she swore she could feel the heat radiating off of him.

He done exactly as she requested and lay the bags gently to rest on the table, the muscles in his arms flexing. Y/N had to wonder if this was a purposeful action, a way to tempt and seduce her, as if he needed to try much to succeed at that. She'd more or less been whipped for him the second he delivered his first book to her.

“Are you looking after yourself?” Her parents had asked this every time they spoke on the phone - which was basically a daily occasion - but hearing it from Daveed felt refreshing, as though she'd never heard the words before; as though she'd never been spoken to with such tenderness. She let her eyes meet his face, a dangerous choice when she found a dazzling smile reflected back at her.

“I am.” Was it possible for a smile to be brighter than the sun? “Are you?”

“Yeah. Even started eating kale.” Daveed chuckled and she followed suit, because his laugh was infectious and she would willingly let it consume her. “It tastes like shit, don't get me wrong, but it's gotta count for something, right?”

“Oh, totally, kale-boy.”

“Excuse me, I'd prefer if you called me by what I really am: a kale-man.”

The mask slid down the bridge of her nose as she smiled wider than the Cheshire cat. In her mind, she cursed her heart-eyes behavior but it did nothing to halt it, Daveed simply put her on edge in the best way.

“It was nice to finally hear your voice, it's cuter than I thought.” She wondered if he was aware of the effect he was having on her, if each word and every gesture of his was carefully calculated to make her weak in the knees. “I'll save you from my sweaty smell and head off now, I can hear the shower calling my name.”

The last thing, yet also the best thing, Y/N needed to be envisioning was a water soaked Daveed. “I didn't want to say anything but, yeah, you smell worse than Cooper's breath.”

“There's the attitude from all your notes!” Daveed had at some point stepped closer to her, to the point where it was likely a big enough inhalation of a breath would have their chests touching. He was so tall, and muscular. “I'll see you around, Y/N from door 27.”

For two minutes she stood there, mask slapped across her face and her breath caught in her throat, nothing but the raw memory of his body so close and, yet, so far away from her own. She made her way indoors, finally, in a zombiefied state. Cooper trailed happily behind her through the house and all the way into the kitchen and, like the good pup he was being raised to be, he helped put away a few of the groceries, by greedily grabbing at the packet of dog treats when something else in the bag caught Y/N's attention.

“Thank you for the bible, now may I rebut with a copy of the Torah? The characters might seem similar but I swear it's different. Friend? Was that you officially friendzoning me, Y/N? And to think I was willing to look past the fact you're a raptor.” She mumbled allowed without even noticing, her eyes drifting across the note in her hand. When Daveed had snuck this into her shopping, she didn't know. Perhaps he'd left it earlier on that day and simply scooped it into the bags after carrying them for her. That sure made more sense than her theory of him hiding the book down his running shorts. “P.S. My dog and I share a number, so I guess I'll just have to give you that one. Just tell Cooper no phone calls past ten o'clock, that's her bedtime.”

She'd never thought it would be so easy to achieve her hot neighbor's number, but the crumpled paper in her hand told her differently.

The room was dark. Or maybe her eyes were closed. Y/N honestly didn't know nor care enough to find out which was the truth. No, all she cared about was the feeling of her nerves being lit on fire and simultaneously soothed. As the moments passed, she became more and more aware of the predicament she found herself in. Her head was thrown back on the comfort of someone's pillow- it couldn't be one of her own, it was far too plush and soft -, both her legs were bent up at the knee, her hands were busy grasping on to anything and everything close by (the bed sheets, the headboard, the hair of whoever was currently positioned between her thighs) and her mouth was agape. Hushed moans and whimpers of ecstasy filled the thick air of the room, and they were all coming from her.

The tension was building in her gut, a knot winding itself tighter and tighter all the while threatening to snap at any moment. Her hips started grinding in time with the warm tongue against her heat. Or, maybe, she'd already been grinding before. Nothing was making sense. Up was down, left was right and Y/N was on the brink of the most thrilling orgasm she'd felt in a while, or ever, really.

“You gonna cum for me, baby?”

Her eyes- which apparently had in fact been opened all along-, with heavy eyelids, flickered down to between her legs. The man was certainly a specimen built to the likes of a Greek god, or something deriving from one. His fingers, buried deep within her, coaxed out another moan from her as they curled upwards. Daveed only smiled in satisfaction at this, as if he was getting more pleasure from it than she was.

Daveed.

Holy shit.

Daveed was between her bare legs.

Y/N bolted up and out of bed, hand reaching out and switching on the light. Just as she expected, there was no sign of Daveed in her room: not on her bed, not under her covers, not in her closet. But he was everywhere in her mind. Fully dressed, Y/N had never felt more naked in her entire life as she gazed out of her bedroom balcony door, over at the very window of the man who'd soaked her dream in a haze of steam.

His light was on.

Worst of all, she found that Daveed was sat at his desk, typing away at something on his opened laptop. As though he felt her intrusive gaze, he looked up from the screen and met her eyes. Due to the distance between them both Y/N couldn't tell for sure but she could have sworn he sucked in his lower lip before releasing it in a teasing smile, his hand lazily waving at her.

With all the shame in the world, she shut her curtains and flopped back on to her bad.

In the span of five minutes she'd dreamed of Daveed doing unspeakable things to her with that mouth of his and been caught peeking into the bedroom of the very same man.

She hadn't phoned him.

She hadn't sent a book over to him.

She hadn't opened her blinds.

He'd been stuck thinking about her for eight days straight, yet it was beginning to feel like she'd been nothing but a creation of his own socially starved brain.

In the grand scheme of things, Daveed was not a narcissist. But he also wasn't an idiot. He was very aware of his own looks, of the lingering stares he'd receive from his students- male and female alike-, of the way soccer moms would shamelessly pay more attention to him than their own sons when he coached the local little league team. And, up until that point, he'd been sure Y/N had been reciprocating whatever feelings he'd amassed for her.

One thing Daveed was is decisive.

Mask pulled across the lower part of his face, he let himself into the gated front yard. In a couple seconds, Cooper had pounced up at him, tail wagging a million miles an hour and tongue lapping away at his face. He chuckled as he lowered the dog safely back onto all four paws.

It only took knocking on the door twice for him to get a “Hold on!” shouted from some part of the house as a response. Relief flooded him at the sound of Y/N's voice, reassuring him that everything was okay. But it only brought on more questions about her sudden lack of communication.

“Hell- Oh, Daveed.” A mask decorated her own face, meaning he was unaware of the hint of a smile on her lips. All Daveed could see were her widened and tired eyes. “Can I help you?” He'd been stood staring her in silence for a little too long, it seemed.

"You never called.” He'd never sounded more pathetic in his life.

“You noticed.”

“Of course I noticed. Did I do something to make you uncomfortable?”

Apart from appear in one of my wet dreams? “What?! No! I've just been busy and I also didn't want to burden you, if I'm honest.”

“I gave you my number so you'd call me, Y/N.”

“And here I thought it was so our two dogs could kick off their fairy-tale romance.”

“As their parents, don't you think it's our responsibility to get along?” Daveed wanted to ask what had kept her busy for eight days. He wanted to know what she thought about in the morning, in the evening. What she thought about him. About the prospect of there ever being a “them”. But it wasn't the time nor the place. “Promise you'll call.”

“I promise I'll call you, loser.” She laughed behind her mask, leaving him with a longing to see her smile. “Now get lost, I've probably just burnt my omelette because of you.”

Daveed had just closed his front door as he felt his phone begin to buzz in his pocket, an unknown number displayed across the screen.

“You owe me an omelette.” Were the first words he heard as he answered it.

Two months passed. The quarantine rules had loosened and tightened over and over again. The supermarkets had restocked their shelves many times. An entire season had come and gone. And Y/N and Daveed had spoken nearly every single day on the phone.

He'd come to learn a few key things: a health scare had kept her busy those eight days; she was allergic to bullshit and always called him out on his; she loved rose wine, or any wine really; she had the most beautiful mind.

She'd also come to learn some stuff about him: he was a university professor, specifying in classic literature; despite the muscles, he was one heck of a dork; he knew a little too much about the rap industry and was prone to throw himself into tangents about the subject; his voice was even more heavenly in the morning.

“Make yourself something to eat,” Daveed spoke down the line, a twinge of excited demand in his voice. “pour yourself a glass of wine and go up to your bedroom balcony.”

“Ooh, someone's feeling bossy tonight, huh?” Y/N laughed, switching the phone between hands as she pushed herself off of her couch, disturbing a sleeping Cooper. After a few strokes to his head, she began her journey to the kitchen, suppressing a laugh as the tired dog chose to follow her, much like he done all the time. “Am I allowed to ask why I'm doing this?”

“Just do it, before I hang up.”

“I'll add grumpy to list of Daveed Moods tonight.”

With a bowl of heated up leftover pasta, a bottle of red wine and a glass balanced in her hands, and her phone glued between her ear and her shoulder, Y/N found her way up stairs to her bedroom. She was incapable of turning on the lights until she'd put down the items in her hand. It was then, as the lights lit up her room in a warm, golden hue, that she noticed Daveed.

No, not in her room. That would have been completely creepy, and partially arousing.

He was sat out on his own balcony, room lit up behind him, with a dish of unknown food, some wine and a candle lit in front of him. He was dressed casually, yet Y/N still found herself on the cusp of drooling at the sight of him. And when he finally noticed her, Daveed waved with the most shit eating grin on his face.

“Cute onesie. What is it, a bunny?” His tone was friendly, as always, but that never stopped her from groaning in frustration at his teasing.

“Did you call me up here just to criticize my choice of clothing, Diggs? Because I was taking part in an intense Criminal Minds marathon before someone interrupted me.”

“I actually called you to invite you to enjoy the evening with me.” It was a curse and a blessing to be so foul minded, Y/N's instantly flooding her with different meanings to his words. “The sky looked pretty tonight and I need someone to appreciate it with me. Unfortunately, you're the only one who answered my call.”

“I won't hesitate to hang up.”

“Stop talking and sit down, your dinner'll get cold.”

Who knows how much time really passed as the two sat staring out at the other, bellies filled by food and wine, hearts filled with desire and longing. There was a great distance between the two balconies but Y/N couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so close to someone, even before social distancing had become the norm.

“It's crazy, I know. How can we be prepared to teach classes now that the infection rates are higher than back at the start of the year, where we all shut down?” Daveed had brought up the fact he was going back to work soon, a topic which made him a perfect blend of relieved, infuriated and confused. “I give it one semester till they make us go back to online teaching, honestly. What about you? Any signs of getting back to your office?”

“We just got the go ahead last week, we're opening back up in a fortnight.” Her reply was paused by a sip of wine, her second glass of the night. “I say we but I really mean them. My doctor told me I'm not allowed to go back yet, apparently I've got some tests left to do.”

The silence that ensued lasted quite a few minutes, then Daveed sighed down the line.

“Is it alright for me to ask why?” He seemed to regret his words instantly, at least from the limited expressions Y/N could read on his face. “I mean, the doctor thing. Are you sick or...?”

“Honestly, I'm surprised you didn't ask sooner.” In their months of getting to know each other, there were times she couldn't even open the door to him when he'd deliver some of her mail or drop off a bunch of flowers he'd stolen from a neighboring garden. It was always under the excuse of doctor's orders and he never questioned or doubted her, he just accepted her for everything she said and gave of herself. “I was in a car accident a couple years ago. It wasn't fatal for anyone, thankfully, but it was pretty bad. One of my lungs ended up collapsing.

I pretty much lived in and out of the hospital for months, which almost sucked more than having a lung that was pretty much giving up on me. I don't know if you've ever spent a lot of time in hospital but it's like attending your own funeral. Everyone that visits you has this look of grief, everything they say is apologetic and there are so many tears. Not to mention the fact the place smells like a crime scene with how much bleach cleaning they do. Anyways, I'm okay now but I guess they consider me high risk or something so they're taking extra steps to make sure I'm as safe and as far away from that virus as possible.”

“So, correct me if I'm wrong, but does that mean I won't be able to take you out anytime soon?” Daveed spoke up finally, and boy was she glad that he didn't want to stick on the topic of her hospital stay. It was a dark and sad time, and she didn't want to experience any of that with him.

“Nope, not until I get permission from my doctor.”

“Can't believe I'm getting cock-blocked by some fucking virus.”

A laugh, so loud that Daveed heard it without his phone pressed to his ear, erupted from Y/N. “You'll just have to settle for balcony dates for now.”

“This isn't a date, Y/N.” It was his turn to laugh.

“Oh, sorry.” Clearly, she was worse at reading signs than she'd thought. She'd never felt more foolish in her life.

“When I eventually do take you on a date, there won't be so much space between us.” His words honestly had the chance to make or break her in that moment, her entire soul depended on whatever he said next. “It'll be a night where I take you to the most ridiculously expensive restaurant. We won't really like the food on the menu but we'll stay as part of a principle. You'll be reluctant to let me blow all my money on the bill but I'll get my way eventually. We'll find some excuse or reason to stay out. Maybe we'll find some piano bar, do some dancing, share some drinks. I don't think I'll be able to stop thinking about how beautiful you look. We'll still be hungry because dinner was shit, so we'll get some fast food before you let me drive us home. I'll probably hold your hand while I drive. I'll walk you to your front door and, even if I really wish you'd invite me in, I'll be relieved when you don't. I'll try tell you how much I enjoyed our night but I'll probably fumble my words. You'll finally send me on my way but I'll find a way to steal a kiss from you. I'll probably think about your lips until the next date I take you on.”

“The english major really jumped out of you.” Y/N wished she didn't lack the self control to say something normal when a man spoke to her like Daveed did. “But, uh, that sounds really nice. Honestly. Except the bill part. We'll be splitting it or I won't be coming on that date.”

“You're so high maintenance, Y/N from door 27, but I guess that could work.” The eye-roll was audible in his tone. “Speaking of english major, I actually have a book for you to read.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, I'll drop it round in the morning.”

“I'll be at the doctors in the morning, sorry.” The wine had rushed to her cheeks, heating them up and making the chill in the air all the more relaxing, lulling her into a half asleep faze.

“Don't worry, I'll leave you a note.”

#daveed x reader #daveed diggs #daveed diggs x reader #daveed diggs drabble #daveed diggs fanfiction #daveed diggs oneshot #daveed diggs imagine #daveed diggs scenario #daveed diggs fluff #daveed diggs smut #daveed diggs hamilton #daveed diggs clipping.#daveed diggs x y/n #valwrite

248 notes · View notes

blueberrysets · 4 years ago

Photo

WITH OR WITHOUT DEATH

pairing: grim reaper!sakusa kiyoomi x f!reader

genre: fluff and angst, probs more angst

warnings: swearing, mentions of sexual activites, mentions of death, angst at the end

word count: 2,482

summary: sakusa was used to a lonely life when he became the notorious grim reaper. he got the cards with the time, place, date, and person of who’s soul he needed to collect, then he would go do his job then leave. that was until he met the bubbly waitress at the 50′s diner with terrible puns but amazing apple pie. if only the council could allow him to keep one, pure soul with him.

reccomended song to listen to: sparks by coldplay

an: okay hI! I’m actually really proud of this little thing I just wrote. This scenario actually takes place in a supernatural realm that I have been developing for ageesss. I’m actually really contemplating on writing a second part to this, so let me know if you’d like that! AND/OR making a writing collection with more haikyuu boys in this universe!! I think it would be really cool to write a supernatural au for the haikyuu boys. lol n e ways, let me know what you think and enjoy!!

sakusa’s breath gets caught in his throat at the mere sight of her. he stands across the street, adorned in his usual black attire and black panama-style hat. a mask covering his identity to the world as he peered into the small diners’ window. she stood behind the counter, chatting with the regulars as she fills up their coffee mugs. a bright smile etched across her face, filling the room with so much joy that his undead heart probably couldn’t withstand it. however for her, it was worth it.

the tacky baby blue waitress outfit matched the 50’s style diner, the color contrasting nicely against her skin. her hair cascades nicely down her back, curled for the dress code she has to withstand.

“it’s cheesy,” he remembers her telling him one night during her late shift, “but I kind of like it, in a charming way.”

it was always the same routine with them; he shows up at the diner at random times, she doesn’t ask questions as she fetches him his usual order, then she sends him that pretty smile of hers as she leans closer to him to talk about his secret. she was the only living soul to know of it, and the only living soul to have an unknown power over him. he wouldn’t trust it with others, but her? he would lay down his own life to hear her whisper his name just one more time.

the rain falling soaks into his black, wool coat. protecting his skin from the harsh air of late autumn. he finally decides to make his way inside the overly hot diner, before he has another soul to guide. he only sees her when death is present, he wouldn’t be in the human realm for any other reason. that was part of his deal to the council. how amusing is it to be a highly respected, yet exiled demon. the human realm was dirty anyways, in more ways than one. covered in diseases, pervs, assholes, and incubuses that feed daily. they annoyed him the most. loosely throwing around their name like it isn’t the thing that controls them, they just like how their name sounds when a human moans it. disgusting.

his long, bony fingers reach out to pull open the door. the heat hitting him in the face like a sharp slap, knocking the breath out of you if you aren’t prepared for it. the familiar ding from the bells attached to the handle fills the slightly empty diner. only a man sitting at the bar with a burger and a man sitting in a booth with a newspaper fill the occupants. yet his gaze is set on the girl in front of him that turns to meet his eyes. another bubbly smile stretches across her face as she places her hands on her hips.

“well, hey there stranger,” she states, a slight twang in her voice. he walks closer to the bar, sitting on the awkwardly high bar stool as she places his fresh black coffee in front of him, ��long time no see, grim.”

she gently takes off his hat, tousling the curls that are hidden underneath it. he likes to think that she’s fixing his hat hair, but in reality she messes it up more. she finds it endearing how the usual put together grim reaper and can have the cutest curls to frame his face. she places his hat on the counter beside him before hooking a finger into his black mask to pull it down his face. if it were anyone else, he would’ve bitten off their finger and disinfected his whole body from the human diseases. dead or not, it still makes his skin crawl. her, however, she’s so pure and untainted.

her soul gives off a vibrant, white light. it glows nicely in the middle of her chest, as if waiting for any sort of sin to darken its glow. he also finds it adorable when her eyes brighten a smidge more to see his full face. even with the gray undertone in his skin color, the soulless eyes, and the eye bags; she stares at him like he’s the most beautiful thing to walk this earth. the mask now rests underneath his chin and her eyes are in delight with what she sees. before he could fully examine her face in the close proximity, she leans away to turn her attention to the man two seats down from him.

“want a refill, mr. k?” she questions as she reaches over to grab the pitcher full of water.

a single letter, that’s what high ranked demons go by in the human realm. you see, if you know the real name of a demon you have full power over them. it’s crucial for demons in power to keep it hidden, that’s why they usually have humans call them by their first initial. sakusa peers his eyes over to be met with the familiar gray locks of one of his colleagues. koushi sugawara, a hellhound. his usual kind stare meets sakusa’s dead stare, sending a small smile his way. sugawara then turns back to wipe the corners of his mouth one more time with his napkin, placing it on top of his now empty plate.

“no thank you, sugar,” he states softly as he placed money onto the counter, sliding it her way, “keep the change, honey.”

“you got it, mr. k,” she gleams at him, her eyes squinting slightly from her big smile, “you have a nice night now.”

sugawara stands from the stool, grabbing his jacket that rests on the chair next to him. shrugging it onto his shoulders as he turns his attention to sakusa sitting next to him.

“it’s nice to see you again grim,” he nods towards him, “still looking as dead as ever.”

“you as well,” he mumbles towards sugawara, a hand being placed on his shoulder to give a light squeeze before he walks out of the diner. he respects sugawara, as he was one of the few that fought for him during his hearing with the council.

his eyes lazily make their way back towards her, to be taken back by how close she was to him. her elbow rests next to his, her head tilting slightly to rest on her hand. her eyes wide and curious as she pushes the slice of apple pie closer to him. steam coming from the fresh pie and tickling his nose slightly, but the aroma fills his nostrils as his stomach rumbles slightly in hunger. why she was so close to him with that look? he wasn’t sure, causing his eyebrows to knit together in confusion as he picks up his utensils to eat her signature apple pie.

“well,” she asks, her eyes still wide.

“well what?” he asks back, finally taking a bite. his tastebuds doing a victory dance with the deliciousness that covered them, physically having to hold back a groan after the sweetness hits him.

“what kind of death was it today?” she asks, her head lifting from her hand as she places it on the counter. leaning slightly closer to him, if he leans in a little more as well their noses would be touching.

he knows that she does this to keep it quiet between them, but it’s a well known fact that he is the grim reaper. people always ask questions about the unusual deaths he sees on a regular basis. however, he appreciates that she respects his privacy. even though she is a curious little thing. he swallows his food before he answers, the fork still being gripped in his hand.

“hit and run,” he says with a smirk.

“tch,” she sneers as she leans back from him, grabbing the rag damp with disinfectant as she begins viciously wiping down the counter, “so much for humanity.”

“what do you mean by that?” he asks with curiosity as he takes another bite.

“well, i mean,” she starts, slightly stuttering over her words. she stops wiping as she stares off behind him, trying to come up with an explanation for how she’s feeling. “I’m beginning to lose my faith in humanity. I mean for crying out loud! we now walk freely with vampires, werewolves, witches, demons! you would think more deaths would be caused by that, but no. it’s still humans killing humans, and i’m glad you help them pass over. you’re more human than any human i have ever met.”

her words drift off at the end as a bashful state takes over her demeanor. the tips of her ears redden as she focuses her gaze on the counter instead of him. it was at this moment, that sakusa knew he would do something he would regret that night. he clenched his jaw as he contemplated his next words.

“when does your shift end?” he asks in his usual monotones voice.

her eyes shift to his, expecting him to lecture her about how he was a demon and she shouldn’t say things like that so carelessly. she was used to his scolding, he did it to her quite often. she swallows and licks her lips before replying.

“9 pm.”

“great, ten minutes for me to finish my pie,” he smiles, “let’s go for a walk after.”

_____________

it’s been fifteen minutes since they first started their walk. his wool coat covers her exposed legs from the cold as her eyes remain upwards towards the night sky. stars twinkle down on them as their comfortable silence is wrapped around them. her mind is gushing over the beauty of the stars, but also over the beauty of him and the two little moles stacked on his forehead. his mind is running a full marathon on how to word his thoughts correctly to her. he’s too analytical, never the one to easily express his emotions. but tonight, for her, he would give it a try.

his mask remains tucked underneath his chin as his eyes remain on the ground. his bottom lip being gnawed at nervously before he takes a deep breath in. as he releases it sharply, he stops his strides next to her. causing her to halt as well, her head looks back at him as she stopped a bit in front of him.

“everything alright?” she asks in a soothing voice.

“in all of my years, alive and undead, i have never encountered something like you,” he whispers, his gaze still on the ground.

“what?” she whispers back, taking a few steps closer to him. the fog of their breaths mixing together at their proximity, she hugs his coat closer to her body as she searches for his gaze to meet his.

“in all of my years, i have never encountered something like you,” he states confidently, his dead eyes now peering into her much livelier ones. “I have met countless of people, and it’s always the same feeling with them. the greed, the lust, the wrath; it’s always one of those deadly sins that have overtaken their souls. it became redundant, annoying even, to see all of the unruly human souls running around doing whatever they want. then I met you, in a little rundown 24 hour diner with the brightest, purest glow emitting from you. you live for selfless deeds, you put yourself before others, you’re hardworking, honest, beautiful, kind, and everything that it takes to awaken my undead soul. it would stupid for me to say that I am not completely in love with you.”

“grim,” she breathes out, her eyes filling with tears over the beautiful words that he has spoken about her. but more importantly, what it would mean for him, for them.

“you know everything about me, even my weak points. you know about my exile, you know about the little human memories i have left, you know how to summon me, you know my name,” he speaks with raw emotion as his skinny hands reach for her face, the plumpness of her cheeks resting nicely in the palm of his hands, “and i’m terrified of how weak I am for you. yet, i can’t hold it in anymore. you speak so highly of me that i feel alive, but i’m not. god, you make me feel so holy. like i could walk into heaven right now. yet, i would kill a man if you just gave me a name.”

one of her hands rests on top of his, her eyes never leaving his. a single tear runs down her face, the first drop for a hurricane. his thumb wipes it away, along with the many more that come after it.

“I’m about to do something, and you and I both know what will happen after this happens,” he explains quietly as he takes one of his hands from her face and wraps it around her waist to pull her closer to him, “but please indulge me, in my own personal sin.”

after the last syllable of the word leaves his lips, he dips his head down to capture her lips with his own. the kiss is deep and full of raw, pure emotion. his grip on her is tight, because he knows that once they separate she’ll have to say it. but all she could focus on was his lips against hers. the saltiness of her tears could be tasted on lips. his skin, which is usually ice cold, is the complete opposite to his warm lips. they fit nicely against hers and move with experience as he continues to deepen the kiss. it seems as if hours had pass in the small minutes of them kissing. she didn’t want it to end, she didn’t want him to pull away. but he did. as soon as their lips part, a sob escapes her body as he rests his forehead against hers.

“send me away, y/n,” he says in a stern, yet soft tone, his hold still tight on her.

“I can’t,” she croaks out, her voice filled with sorrow as her body continues to shake with sobs, “please don’t make me.”

“I’m sorry, my love,” he whispers as pulls her closer to him, “i’m so sorry. but you and i both know, you have to.”

another cry is released as she pushes her face into his chest. her hands gripping the black turtleneck sweater, her tears wetting the shirt as well. he can only hold her, rubbing soothing circles into her back as a single tear runs down his cheek as well.

“please go away,” she sobs, “kiyoomi.”

once his name leaves her lips, her wish is his command. he vanishes in thin air, a black smoke replacing where he once was. as she sinks down to hug her knees into her chest, she promised to herself that she would see him again.

with or without death.

169 notes · View notes