#i think only two out of the many killers that have ever escaped weren’t with color

[wickjump]

i like thinking that there have been multiple killers that have escaped over the hundreds of years nightmare has ‘owned’ versions of him. purely so i can have all the escaped killer dynamics and ideas and characterizations. all the types of trauma. all the reactions. all the endings. i do not believe that across centuries upon centuries only one killer has ever escaped

also i like to think about an idea where killer meets himself. a version of him that had escaped with color, like most versions of him (the ones that actually escaped, anyway) had. and he’s confused and doesn’t like the confusing, conflicting emotions that come from it. cuz it’s cool idk

[bettyfrommars]

Touch my cheek before you leave me, baby//Part 2

gigolo!Eddie x virgin!older!fem!Reader

(part 1)(part 3)

18+Only, mature content, intimacy smut, sweet!Eddie, nipple play, praise!kink, masturbation, oral (f receiving), protected p in v, toxic mother, self-esteem issues, alcohol consumption, implied self-loathing, pet names, implied sex with someone other than reader, paid sex. wc: 4.6k

summary: After that first night together on your 29th birthday when you lost your virginity to gigolo Eddie, he mentions, in his own way, that he'd like to see you again off the clock. Reader is an introvert dealing with self-esteem issues and invites Eddie to be our date for a wedding, but not before he invites us back to his place.

authors note: I never intended this to be more than one part, but it quickly became a favorite, and I had so many requests for more. Who am I to deny us more of sweet, gigolo Eddie?

All of your support means the world, and I very much look forward to your thoughts ❤️

pls no minors beyond this point

-------

You still couldn’t tell if it was real.  When he said he wouldn’t charge you if you ever wanted to meet up again. It felt sincere when he said it, but now, two days later, by the phone with gigalo Eddie’s number in your hand, you were convinced that it was all part of his game.  Maybe he was just that good.

He knew everything that would turn you on, everything you needed to hear, right down to the pet names and the missionary style, intimate sex. It had all been in the paperwork you’d submitted. It was nothing but a job to him, and you had totally fallen for it.  

Now you felt like one of those idiot, lovesick men at the strip clubs who always believed that the girls were really in love with them after they made eye contact a few times and tipped them for hours on end. 

You did your affirmations in the mirror that morning, trying not to look at yourself from the side in the full length mirror and pinch at the parts of your body you thought were gross.  Trying not to indulge in the morning ritual of hating yourself.

Even if Eddie had felt some type of real connection with you—which you now highly doubted—how would things progress between the two of you? From what Robin had told your friend Nellie, Eddie was a busy boy.  He was a respected gigalo within a 50 mile radius, and his list of regular clients was long; your evening with him was booked a month in advance.  On nights when he didn’t have clients, he was practicing with his band or playing gigs, and you were sure he could have any woman he wanted when he performed.

But then the phone rang as you were sitting there right next to it and you jumped, a shriek escaping your throat.

It was your mom, reminding you to pick up the dress for your cousin's wedding the following weekend. You weren’t going to be in the wedding party, but your mother had made it abundantly clear that she didn’t want you to embarrass her with any of the styles of clothes you would’ve picked out for yourself.  

She exhaled a haggard breath.  “I suppose you still haven’t found a date? There’s a new boy who goes to our church. I think he might even like you, as long as you don’t bring up any of your strange conspiracy theories or serial killer statistics. Wear that special bra I got for you, and put a little makeup on.  Men like women who try to look nice for them.”

You wanted so badly to let your mother know that you’d recently paid for a gigolo to take your virginity, just to hear the horror and panic in her voice.  You were already a disappointment to her, why not put a cherry on top?

You put Eddie’s number on the table and stared at it while she talked.  “Actually,” you took a stiff swallow that felt like a marble in your throat.  “I do have a date.  For the wedding.  His name is Eddie.”

You relished the silence of shock at the other end. “Oh? What does this Eddie do? Not another jobless musician like the last boy you had a crush on, I hope?”

You winced at the way she brought it up.  Almost a decade ago, you had a crush on the brother of one of your friends, that is until you overheard him refer to you as “creepy”.

You knew she’d never drop it until you told her something; what a person did for a living and their social standing was very important to your mother.  “He’s, um,” you looked around, eyes landing on one of the cassette tapes on the shelf for the band Mike and The Mechanics.

“He’s a mechanic,” but you knew that wouldn’t be good enough.  “He, uh, runs his own auto body garage.” The lie—the fact that you even had to lie—made you squeeze your eyes shut.

She of course asked what the name of his garage was, and you told her he was from out of town and only coming in for the wedding.  She started badgering you with more questions and you lied and told her someone was at the door of your apartment and you had to go, hanging up the receiver before she could protest.  

A few hours later, after listening to music on full blast in your headphones and nearly pacing a hole in the carpet, you cracked open the nerve to call Eddie.

Your blood ran freezing cold as it rang on his end, and you glanced at the clock: it was just after 8:00pm.  You’d purposely waited until it was later in the evening, praying that he’d be with his band or with another client, and then you could leave him a message on his machine.  You were banking on this, actually.  If he picked up and you heard his voice, you’d probably hang up on him.

As luck would have it, you did get his answering machine.  Nervous as all hell, your voice was a tad squeaky at first, but then you cleared your throat. 

You decided you would present the invitation to be your date to the wedding as a job, one you would pay him for.  You let him know you’d had a great time the other night, and then made sure he had your phone number, and that you would TOTALLY understand if he was already busy that weekend.  You were about to hang up when you realized that you’d never said exactly who you were, and so you blurted your name out at the last minute, but it was too late because the recorder beeped and cut you off.

You went to bed that night convinced you would never hear from him again.  

Much later that night, after a long day, Eddie grinned down at the answering machine the second he heard your voice—he knew it was you right away.  He’d been thinking about you nonstop since that night you’d been together, but he never expected to hear from you.  He worried that he had put you on the spot when he said you wouldn’t have to pay him, and it had probably made you uncomfortable.  Flirting on the job was not something he had done before and it was very unprofessional of him. At the very least, he needed to apologize to you.

But there you were, calling him this soon as if you’d been thinking about him too.  

He tucked his hand in his armpit and nibbled at his lip when you asked if he was free this weekend to go to a wedding with you.

His heart skipped a beat.  He was thinking something more along the lines of dinner and a movie, but, sure, he would be your date—he had a tux. He’d have to reschedule one of his regulars, but she would understand. Other guys might’ve seen that as getting too serious too quick, but not Eddie.  He hadn’t had a girlfriend, or even been on a date that was not work related in over a year.  Women weren’t interested in taking a gigolo home to meet their parents.  They wanted his cock in all of their holes, but none of them ever wanted to know how his day went or what his dreams were.  

“So, just let me know…” you continued in the message.  “...if you’re available, and how much would you charge for something like that? I’d totally understand if…”

Damn it, he cursed to himself, sucking air in the side of his cheek.  He thought that invitation was sounding a little too good to be true.  

All the same, he called back the next day and left a message while you were at the local grocery store where you worked as an assistant manager, letting you know he’d be honored to be your date, and to tell him the where and the when.

But he did not give a price, and the omission was not lost on you.

—-----

You were so nervous, you could puke.

But it was still a day before the wedding, and you were in attendance at the post-rehearsal dinner at Enzo’s.  Although you were not going to be in the wedding, your beautiful, outgoing sister Judith was, and you weren’t entirely against a dinner paid for by your uncle at one of the fanciest restaurants in town.  

You were feeling the buzz of the wine and trying to play wallflower as the other four people at the table, including your sister and three of her friends, engaged in lively conversation and shared exaggerated stories from their college years.  You were sitting back in your chair, offering a chuckle to something that was just said, when you looked across to the main entrance and saw Eddie coming through the door.  

You were only looking in his direction for maybe five seconds before you looked away, but it felt like an hour.  There was an ocean in your ears as your heartbeat soared and your brain scrambled to make sense of what was going on. 

He looked particularly beautiful.  Hair worn down, framing his face, a crisp white button down, allowing for the dark designs of his chest tattoos to show, sleeves rolled up at the elbows, exposing his defined forearm muscles and tattoos.  

Eddie was not alone.  

Next to him, holding onto his arm, was a very pretty woman.  Shoulder length, brunette hair brushed back from her face, flawless skin, tight black dress and gold jewelry.  She might have been mid to late thirties, much shorter than Eddie. They appeared to be very cozy as they stood waiting to be shown to their booth, and when she turned to ask him something, Eddie answered, and then kissed the back of her hand.

You snapped your eyes back to the table, twirled the stem of your wine glass a few times, and then lifted it to your lips for a generous gulp.  Everyone at your table was just tipsy enough to not notice how flustered you got, cheeks blooming red hot.

Eddie saw you while he was escorting Lana to their table, but he wasn’t sure if you had seen him yet or not.  This was his fifth “date” with Lana.  Her husband passed away four years ago, and she’d decided that she’d never love another man again as much as she’d loved him, so she didn’t want any romantic attachments.  What she wanted was a man to take care of her once in a while: escort her to dinner, treat her like a lady, hold doors for, and then let her suck him off so he could cum on her tits the way her husband used to do.  He wore her husband's Old Spice aftershave and called her “Sugar” which had always been his nickname for her. 

He needed to focus on Lana, but as the waiter handed over the wine menus, Eddie kept glancing in your direction.  It'd been a week since the two of you had been together biblically, and he’d really been missing your face, more than he could even admit to himself.  He found himself drawn to you chemically in a way he hadn’t experienced since he was a teenager. 

You shot him a look over your wine glass, and he lifted his fingers in a small wave, but you ducked your head and tried to hide behind whoever was sitting next to you. 

If anyone there recognized him tomorrow at the wedding, and happened to connect the dots that he was with another woman on a date the night before, that would be bad. He made a last second decision to switch places with Lana in the booth so that his back would be to the people you were with, in an effort to hide his identity.  

“I think it’s time for me to go home,” you announced to the table, getting to your feet as you said it.

Your sister protested.  “But, we just got here? One more drink?”

You fumbled so fast for your jacket that your chair fell to the ground.  Even over the Italian music and plentiful conversations, everyone turned to look, including Eddie, and then you were rushing to get out of the restaurant, bursting into the fresh air and hurrying down the sidewalk.

Down at the corner of the building, you were catching your breath and feeling stupid as hell, when you realized Eddie was coming toward you with his hands in his pockets.  He had waited a few minutes, but eventually followed.

“Hey,” he said, catching up to you after a few slow, deliberate strides.  “I hope I didn’t make anything weird for you in there.”

You covered your eyes with your hand.  “No, I’m the one who made things weird,” you told him. “I’m just not a fan of crowds. I think I got a little claustrophobic.”

“I know what you mean,” Eddie had his head down, shuffling his foot, and you noticed how different his demeanor was when he wasn’t “working”.  

You huffed a laugh.  “You’re a natural with people, what are you talking about?”

“Maybe I just play a good game,” he lifted his eyes to meet yours, chin lowered. “On the inside I spend plenty of time curled in a ball in the corner, I promise you.”

A car horn blared in the distance, and then Eddie spoke again.  “You look really pretty tonight,” his hands stayed in his pockets, but he gestured with his elbow.  “Are we still on for tomorrow?”

“Of course,” you said quickly, praying he hadn’t suddenly changed his mind.  “I mean, if you still want to?”

“Of course I want to, sweetheart,” he cocked his head, but then he gestured toward the restaurant. “I need to get back in, I can’t leave her hanging.”

You started to speak nervously, something about “oh yes sure go ahead absolutely okay goodnight” as you walked away, but then he caught your arm.

He searched your face in the dark shadow of the street corner.  “Are you…busy later? Like, in a couple hours?”

Your heart tightened at the urgency of his question.  The way his eyes settled on you, they were full of desire, and you couldn’t remember the last time anyone gave you all of their attention like that.  

Eddie was really taking a chance with this one.  What woman in her right mind would want to spend time with him right after he’d been intimate with someone else?  This is where any dating situation he ever attempted came to a screeching halt.  He went home lonely more often than not.  

Your gaze flicked from his eyes to his beautiful neck, letting the gravity of what he was asking you sink in.  “Won’t you be…tired?”

He brushed his knuckles across your cheek.  “Not too tired.”

—----

He called from the payphone at Enzo’s and left his address on your answering machine, just like he said he would, and so there you were, in your car in the driveway of the adorable light blue house he shared with a friend named Steve, who was supposedly also in the gigolo business. Steve was out of town for a few days, though, and inside your head you were screaming; you couldn’t believe this was happening.

 It was one of the better maintained houses on the block; lawn perfectly mowed and trimmed, a flower bed with purple pansies along the sidewalk.  There was the husk of an old muscle car in the garage though, and an engine weeping oil on the pavement.  The lie you’d told your mother wasn’t too far off, and a grin kicked up one side of your mouth thinking about how Eddie’s strong hands had some black stains in the crevasses from working on cars, even though he scrubbed them constantly.  

Eddie had no idea what he was doing.  The good thing about being a gigalo was that he could control the atmosphere and the outcome: he never had to worry about getting hurt because it was just a job.  

You could tell he’d just come out of the shower when he answered the door in a plain white tee and jeans exposing the tattoos on his arms, hair wet down his shoulders, skin warm and soft when he hugged you in the doorframe. 

The hug lingered, and when you stepped back, your chin was down, your eyes trying to avoid him at all costs. Sure, you wanted to be there with him, but also, your body was in fight or flight mode.  You could hear your mother’s voice in your head then, telling you there’s no way a guy as good looking as Eddie would be interested in a girl like you. She’d insist he was using you for something.

“Hey,” Eddie caught your chin and brought your attention back to him. He ran a thumb across your mouth.  “I’ve been dreaming of these lips.”

It made you snort a laugh, and Eddie laughed too, squeezing one eye closed.  “Sorry, was that too cheesy? Occupational hazard.”

“I like cheesy,” you beamed, parting your lips to accept his kiss, opening your mouth to take him deeper, working your hands up the front of his chest over his shirt.  You tried not to think about the woman he’d been with just an hour earlier, and the things they’d possibly done together.  If he could accept you and still find you desirable, even when you didn’t even like yourself, you were willing to have an open mind about his profession.  At least for now.

You found out he had an episode of Elvira’s Movie Macabre on the TV, and told him it was one of your favorites.  This made Eddie like you even more.  He sat back on the couch, legs long, and beckoned for you with a few eager flaps of his wrist to come and sit flush with your back against him.  “This is what I needed,” he said as you got comfortable between his legs.  He kissed the side of your head, intertwined the fingers of one of his hands with yours, and you could barely concentrate on the show with the way his closeness made your pussy pulse.

“Is this okay?” He whispered.  Both of his thumbs slid down the front of the blouse you were wearing to graze the hard nubs of your nipples, while he kissed the outer ridge of your ear.  

You could only make a needy purr in the back of your throat, pushing against him at the need for more.  

“Are your nipples this hard just for me, sweetheart?” He hushed, nuzzling your ear.  You squirmed a bit more, nodding, exposing the side of your neck to greet his mouth.  He unbuttoned your shirt and pulled down the front cups of your bra to pluck at your tender buds, making you whine.  He found your pulse point on your throat and sucked there, continuing to work your nipples in a way that had your underwear immediately damp with arousal.

“You getting wet for me so I can taste how good I make you feel, baby?”

Indeed, your body was letting him know loud and clear that this is what it wanted.  

He licked his fingers to wet your nipples, and you felt like you might be able to cum from his finger twisting alone.  You undid the zipper on your trousers and sank your fingers into the wetness there, working your slippery clit.  You slid your digits down a little further and dipped them into your hole; it gripped around you, begging to be filled.

“Let me taste it,” he told you.  You presented your two glistening fingers up and he sucked them into his mouth, licking them clean, making you tremble at the way his tongue flicked between them.

“Keep touching yourself,” he encouraged, milking and twisting your nipples with a bit more force now that they weren’t as sensitive, causing zings of pleasure to rock through your body.

“Eddie,” you whimpered, finding your clit again, working your wrist.  “You’re going to make me—”

But then it was already happening, a pop of velvet streamers liquified at your core, pulsing, throbbing, making you go blind for a second.  

Eddie’s cock bucked hard against his denim.  You turned to kiss him in the aftermath, and he slid out from under you to get on his knees, pulling your pants off the rest of the way.

“I need to taste it,” he breathed, hiking your knees up over his shoulders so he could bury his face and lick you clean, lapping up your gift, groaning and rocking forward on his knees as he did so.  

You grabbed onto his hair.  “You like how hard I cum for you, don’t you baby?”

You were learning to be more verbal, and it made his hips twitch against the couch, he wanted you so bad.  Once he devoured the sweet  nectar of  your cum, he worked his way up your body, kissing your breasts, and then finding your mouth.  He sank two fingers into your aching hole, and your pelvis flexed eagerly up to meet his hand.  

“Hey,” he brushed his lips over yours, hovering there.  “I don’t ever go down on...clients,” he admitted to you, eyes finding yours, fucking his fingers slowly in and out, curling them up once they were deep inside of you. “You are special, I just thought you should know.”

“I like knowing that,” you said with a quiver in your voice, holding his face. “I want you inside of me.”

There was a condom in his wallet and he helped you guide it onto his cock after he pushed his jeans down, every bit the teacher.  You slid your shoulders down the couch, legs spread wide, exposing all of your holes for him.  Gripping your hip, he teased the tip at your entrance, eyebrows pinching together at the sensation.

“Without a condom, I’d probably blow a hole through you, baby, you’ve got me so hard.”

Your pussy was soaked, dripping from your folds down the condom on his cock.  “You’re the only one I want inside of me,” you were merely stating a fact, but it was just what he needed to hear, and he rose up on his knees, pulled your ass a bit further off the couch, and buried himself balls deep with a hard gasp.

He leaned forward to brace his forearms on the cushion at either side of your head, kissing you, thrusting in a few times as deep as he could go, skin smacking, your wetness now shimmering on the curly hairs at the base of his cock.

You were amazed at how your body knew how to respond, even though you had absolutely no clue what you were doing.  Bucking your hips up to meet him was your favorite, and then every now and then, he’d swivel his hips, holding your legs out.  

“That was a fancy move,” you breathed against his lips. 

“I save all my fancy moves for you, sweetheart,” he chuckled.

He brought his thumb in to play with your clit.  “I want you to cum with me.”

You didn’t know if that kind of tandem miracle was possible, but you were willing to try.  You brought your fingers in to work your slick juices over just the right spot, and Eddie sat back to watch you. He was observing and taking notes.

“You stretch me out so good,” you whined, getting into the swing of things, swiping your fingers faster, not phased at all by the way the parts of your body you hated were all hanging out for him to see.  

“Shit,” Eddie bucked. “You’re gonna make me cum right now if you talk like that.”

“You’ve ruined me for everyone with your big cock, baby,” you continued. “No one will ever fill me up like you do.”

“Fuck, you’re so tight, holy shit,” Eddie cried out.

You could feel the peak approaching but then Eddie pushed in a bit too eagerly, and his cock slipped out and dove up into the folds of your pussy.

“Oh, fuck, right there,” you called out, clutching his shoulder, begging him to work the head of his cock on your clit.

“Fuck baby fuckkkkk,” he hissed, thrusting his hips, fucking your folds with the underside of his cock.  “I’m gonna cum, baby.”

And then, it was you who was cumming, babbling, riding the wave as Eddie cock dipped back inside, needing to feel like he was pumping it inside of you, worshiping you from the inside with his seed.

In the aftermath, his head lowered, hair hanging down, he enjoyed the slip of your cum, feeding you the shaft a few more times. 

Eddie was about to pull you against him to watch Movie Macabre for real this time, but when you came out of the bathroom, you were fully dressed with your bag over your shoulder and a distinct look of goodbye on your face.

“I should get going,” you announced, picking at some loose skin around your cuticle.  

Eddie stood from the couch, fixing himself, making sure the zipper was up on his jeans.  He didn’t have a shirt on, exposing the cut lines at his hips and trail of hair below his belly button.

“Sure, sure, um,” he looked around, hands on his hips.  “You don’t have to go.  I mean, you could even stay here, if you wanted. I could set my alarm if you have to get up early.”

You wondered what he charged for overnight stays.  Would you receive a bill on Monday for two full days worth of gigolo time? You had no idea what his rates were, and you still knew you couldn’t afford it.   The voices in your head were telling you what a gullible, cock drunk fool you were. While in the bathroom, you realized that everything he said was way too good to be true.  No man had ever wanted you this bad, nor would they ever.  A part of you was even harboring some anger towards him for being deceitful and making you feel things you’d gone 3 decades without.

“Thank you,” you cleared your throat. “For this.  I have a big day tomorrow, so,” and then you turned without another word, headed for the door.

Eddie hustled after you.  “Okay, so, I’ll pick you up at your place tomorrow, yeah? We’ll go together?”

“Actually,” you gave him your profile.  “I think it would be better if  you just met me at the venue.”

“If that’s what you want,” he said quietly.  He was having a hard time reading you. “I’ll be there.”

“Okay, thanks again,” you said in a rush. 

“Hey, wait—-” but you were already out the door and hurrying down the driveway to your car, afraid to look back.  

---------

Thank you for reading!

[violent-grove]

(Trickster x Reader) Starstruck No More

Summary:  Being a previous fan of The Trickster gives you an upper hand with dealing with him and his shenanigans. At first he may need a bit of a reminder to who you are, but after he finds out, it's a game changer.

Word Count: 5.1k

This place was already enough of a nightmare without your murderer showing up here as well. You still remembered the fateful day that you allowed your misguided love for your bias, Ji-Woon Hak, to dictate your utterly stupid actions. Many called you crazy for hopping on a plane to South Korea just to meet your favorite K-pop star, but as a dedicated fan, this action was anything but insane. How were you supposed to know that your bias was a mass-murdering psycho? Meeting him was a dream come true; being murdered by him was a complete nightmare. Fortunately, as you were on the brink of death, the fog took you.

The realm wasn't the greatest, but at least you were alive. Your fellow survivors weren't that bad either; you'd even made friends with some of them. Finally, you were getting used to your predicament, when the entity threw a wrench into your life, Yun-Jin Lee. 

Seeing her appear in the realm, made your blood turn cold. Hearing her harrowing tale of how she got to be there, made your blood turn to ice. Not only did she know about The Trickster's murderous attitude, she actively ignored it for her selfish desires. The shock you felt soon turned to anger, and that anger soon turned to fear. If she was here, was he here as well? You didn't get much time to mull over the new information, as the fog surrounded you, signaling the start of a new trial. 

The trial was in Blackwater Swamp. Seeing a generator right next to the shack, you get to work as fast as possible. Maybe this killer would have an off day, and let you all escape. It was unlikely, but it happened sometimes. You spotted Yun-Jin a little in the distance and waved her over to your gen. This was probably her first trial, and though you hated her with a passion, you knew the more knowledge she possessed, the more likely everyone was to survive. 

The both of you were about 75% done with the gen when you started to hear the build-up for one of your favorite songs. Yun-Jin softly tugged on your sleeve and whispered in a heavy Korean accent, "Remember that guy I was telling everyone about at the campfire? I think he's the killer."  You nodded and tried to keep working on the generator to the best of your ability, but the music kept building and building until it felt like the tune was practically blaring in your ears. Looking over the side of the gen, you see him.

Out of shock, you open your mouth in a silent scream. If there was any doubt in your mind about this being the Yun-Jin from your world, that was now gone. There was no possibility that you would mistake his face; the face of your murderer, the face of your favorite idol, and the face of the man running over to kill you and Yun-Jin. She was also frozen in shock, but you were luckily able to think fast enough to grab her arm and take her over to shack. Even though you weren't the best chaser yourself, you knew you would be leagues ahead of this newbie. You turn to her and say, "Get out of here or hide in a locker; I'll try to keep him distracted." She nodded and ran off to what looked like another generator. 

Now it would be just the two of you, killer and victim, reunited. No amount of mental preparation would have made you ready for him to zoom into the open doorway of shack with the most manic look you had ever seen. Taking a right, you fast vault the window while hearing the glass clinking of The Tricksters knives. Of course, he used his knife-throwing trick while trying to kill all of you; why wouldn't he? Looping shack had become second nature to you after all of your time spent in The Entity's realm, but his knife-throwing was making the task extremely difficult. 

Before long, you were downed from his expert aim and hooked. Luckily, it seemed like The Trickster hadn't recognized you at all. While you were on the hook, you gave yourself time to think. If you were being honest, you would say that you were a little insulted. Did Ji-Woon have so many victims that you were just one of the others? The thought almost made you feel dejected, but you didn't have time to mope; Meg came and saved you from the hook. The rest of the trial went horribly. Everyone, but Yun-Jin, was sacrificed, and everyone returned to the campfire in a sour mood, you most of all.

Before today, you finally thought you were getting a grasp on your situation, but The Trickster's presence stirred up unwanted feelings inside of you. Sure, you still hated him, but you also couldn't ignore all that time you spent fangirling over him, his past band, and his new solo career. Why did you find him attractive even now? What was wrong with you? Why couldn't you get this stupid K-pop artist out of your head?  

The next few trials for you were tortuous. Everyone one of them pitted you against The Trickster. The only upside to this was that you became practically an expert at dodging his knife attacks. Already you were above average, having watched his knife performances over and over on Youtube, but now you were so good that all survivors would quickly turn to you when they heard The Trickster's melody. 

It was during one of your many chases with him that when you finally went down, you yelled out, "You motherfucker!" With you on his shoulder, he let out a chuckle and leaned against a wall in amusement. The laugh he let out reminded you of some of his interviews: it sounded normal. His mirth gave you enough time to wiggle off his shoulder and run away, but instead of chasing you as usual, he allowed you to run and went after a different survivor. You used the opportunity to try and work on a generator. 

It was the end of the trial, and you were the last one left. Looking up, you saw Kate's body being taken by The Entity. You tried to focus on your surroundings and listen for the hatch, and soon you heard it, but Ji-Woon must have as well. When you became closer to the hatch, you also heard his tune. As you rounded the corner of Dead Dawg Saloon, you saw him there in the open, standing over the hatch. 

Figuring you would get this over with, you marched right up to Ji-Woon. Instead of throwing any knives or swinging his bat, he just stood there and watched you approach. The both of you were only three feet apart by now. Maybe he was letting you go? At first, that was your thought, before he kept stepping in your way. You had tried to keep your patience, he was once your favorite idol after all, but you were done. Looking up into his eyes, you said with annoyance, "Ok dude, let me through or kill me. I want this to be done with."

Ji-Woon only smirked before saying in English, "I just want to get to know one of my fans. Is that too hard to ask?" You knew he could speak English, but not that well. 

You take one look at him, scoff, and say, "Yes, yes that is too much to ask." Looking at the hatch behind him you ask in the fakest voice you can manage, "Now, can you please let me get hatch, Ji-Woon?" 

He did one of his deranged laughs and shook his head, "Can't I at least know your name, Starstruck?" 

Your lip arches up in a snarl, and you answer with a resounding, "No." The Trickster looked taken slightly aback, and you used that opportunity to slip by him and make your escape. 

After that streak of constant Trickster trials, you were finally allowed some reprieve. Not that you missed the other killers, but at least there was some variety in your trials again. While you felt relief at being apart from The Trickster, he felt quite the opposite. Over the many trials the two of you had spent together, Ji-Woon's fondness for your chases had grown. Out of all of the survivors, you were the only one able to keep up with his knives.

The Entity granting you a break from him made all of his following trials more and more boring. None of the other survivors' screams compared to yours. The sound his little Starstruck produced was like no other, but it almost felt familiar. There would only be a couple more trials before night fell upon The Entity's realm, and everyone would be let off the hook for twelve hours. 

With the days you've been having, all you wanted to do was flop down on the ground and sleep. Unfortunately, Yun-Jin had other plans. Just as you were losing consciousness and giving up your body for a well-deserved rest, you felt a hand start to shake your shoulder. Because you were face-planted on the ground, you had to turn your head to the right to look up at her. In a groggy and annoyed voice, you asked, "Yes, Yun-Jin?" 

She averted her gaze, and gave off an aura of nervousness, "I wanted to talk to you about The Trickster." Sitting down beside you she motioned for you to do the same. Reluctantly, you moved yourself into a sitting position and looked at her expectantly. You could tell she had put her business mode into gear by the seriousness in her tone, "How are you able to dodge his knives so well?" 

The question made you stiffen. Truthfully, you did not want to tell her about your intertwined past with The Trickster, but you could try to come up with a lie of some sort, "I don't know, I've been here longer than you. Maybe I'm just more used to dodging things like that. You know The Huntress, she throws stuff similar to how he does it." 

Yun-Jin squinted her eyes at you as if to say 'really?' and looked you directly in the eyes, "I might buy that, but there are people who have been here longer than you, and none of them are as good at predicting his moves." The more you talked with this woman, the more perturbed you became. What right did she have to interrogate you? She indirectly caused your death! 

Your irritation with the K-pop manager in front of you caused you to get up and leave, but as you were doing so, you had one last thing to say, "I'm tired, and I don't like to talk shop when I'm supposed to be resting." She was so pushy. It seems like she hadn't changed a bit from the last time you saw her, the day of your almost-death. 

You and a group of maybe ten to twenty others were being herded by Yun-Jin backstage to meet some of the performers. But you only had one performer in mind at the time, and his name was Ji-Woon Hak. After months of saving, you were finally able to buy your dream ticket: a front-row seat with a backstage tour. The feelings you got when you met Ji-Woon were indescribable. It felt comparable to meeting a god. One of the goals you had for making this trip was to hopefully get over your obsession with The Trickster, but meeting him in person made you fall in love with him even more. 

When you and the group walked in, he was removing some of the more cumbersome makeup. Immediately, the two of you made eye contact, and he gave you one of the prettiest smiles known to man. Luckily, you were set to meet him first and then the rest of the acts that performed, but when Yun-Jin began guiding the group to the next performer, you hung back and headed for the door. 

A hand on your shoulder stopped you in your tracks. Looking behind you, your heart almost stopped breathing at the sight of Ji-Woon. He gave you a gentle smile and asked in Korean, "Where are you going, Starstruck?" 

Taking a sharp inhale, you tried to call upon all of your Korean knowledge. You were able to understand quite a bit, thanks to the help of some Discord friends, but your ability to speak the language was quite lacking. Trying your best to respond, you say, "I- uh, want see only you." That Korean was terrible, and you knew it. That sentence made you want to crawl into a corner and die of embarrassment. 

Ji-Woon chuckled and said in a very thick Korean accent, "You came all the way here to see little old me?" You could only dumbly nod in response, if only you could go back and slap some sense into your past self. Ji-Woon gave a bright smile that, now, you know as predatory with your foresight, "Why don't follow me; I'd like to learn the story of one of my most dedicated fans." He led you into his private room. 

You were only given a couple of seconds to gawk at his personal quarters before you felt a stab in your side. The pain you felt from this newly acquired injury was like none you had felt before. It felt like your insides had been split open and then pried apart. The moment that you registered all of the pain, you collapsed onto your side. Your vision was blurry until you were able to focus on some shiny black boots walking your way. 

Looking up from the ground, you saw your bias, and now murderer, standing over you, colorful knife in hand. He was letting out an insane-sounding laugh at your pain. Taking deep breaths, you use your final words to shakily ask, "Why?" 

He goes to bend down as you feel your life slipping through your fingers. You see him open his mouth, about to say something, but before he gets the chance, everything goes black and you're sat by a campfire.

That brought you back to today with a hatred for K-pop and trust issues. Taking a look at your surroundings, at least you were far away from Yun-Jin for now. Finally isolated from the others, you were able to rest peacefully. 

The next few days in the Entity's realm were back to the same old routine, for a while. It was the start of another trial in the Yamaoka Estate. You knew that the generator in the house was the most dangerous, but if you could get it out of the way, the rest of the trial should go smoothly. Quietly, you make your way over and get to work.

Ji-Woon did some shakes to get rid of his pre-show jitters; he needed to have absolute focus if he was going to hear all of those mediocre screams. Instantly he spotted David and started to pursue him. Within a couple of seconds, the large Englishman was on the ground with a dozen knives protruding from his back. Picking David up and hooking him, Ji-Woon thought he heard some noises coming from the main building of this map. 

Making his way over, he spots you through the window; his little Starstruck is in the trial. Immediately after his lemon eyes saw you, he started to devise a plan. If he could kill everyone else in the trial, and down you at the end, he would have until you bled out to talk to you. 

Now with a purpose, The Trickster got to work. First to go was David, then, Kate, and that Dwight character was the easiest. While he was chasing your teammates, he admired how you tried to take chase and lead him away, but with your time as his prize, nothing would stop him. 

Again, you were pitted against your most hated killer. You had tried so many times to save your teammates, but it was all futile. It's almost like he was avoiding you. You saw the body of Dwight get lifted by The Entity and started to run and look for the hatch. Regrettably, it looked like another Dead Dawg Saloon scenario; across the map, you could see The Trickster standing above the hatch as if he was taunting you. 

Starting to trudge over to him, you accept your soon-to-be fate. After last time, there was no way he would take any chances with you, and in your injured state, you didn't stand a chance. 

Ji-Woon heard your footsteps and put on one of his best performer smiles. As he swung his bat, knocking you down, he happily yelled, "Starstruck, you made it!" The cry you made as you fell to the ground was divine, but he did not appreciate the glare that came after, "Aw, did you think you'd get past me like last time? That was a mean trick you pulled, and as you should know, out of the two of us, I should be the one playing tricks." 

Your glare hardened, and you asked, "What do you want, Ji-Woon?" 

He only smirked and said, "I'm only giving a bit of VIP time to my most dedicated fan." 

His words made your nostrils flare, your face turn red, and your veins filled with molten hot lava. With all of your strength, you yelled out, "I hate you!" 

When Ji-Woon heard those words, there was a small crack in his trickster persona, but only for a moment. His anger soon overtook his shock. How dare you? Stepping on your hand, you let out a yelp as he leaned down, "I would watch your words carefully, bitch. We still have a couple of minutes until you bleed out." 

Your determination never faltered, "Do your worst. It can never be as bad as killing me in the real world." 

Stepping off of you, Ji-Woon knit his eyebrows together in confusion and asked, "What?" Thinking back to all of his victims, Ji-Woon realized why you seemed so familiar, you were the one who got away. You bled out too quickly, and he wasn't able to capture any of your screams in his soundproof room. The knowledge made him visibly flinch. He couldn't even bring himself to stop your escape from his grasp a second time. Silently, he allowed you to crawl through hatch and escape. 

Back at the killer's campsite, beyond the forest, Ji-Woon felt something he had never felt before, regret at killing someone. He remembers your vibrant spirit that he had dampened. Thankfully, he could still feel that spark emanating from you; it wasn't completely gone. Instead of attempting to snuff it out again, he wanted to fan your flame. 

At the survivor campsite, you felt better than you had in ages. You were able to stand up to your murderer and live to tell the tale. Witnessing that shocked expression bloom on his face was more healing than any therapy session. Your fellow survivors congratulated you on your escape and started relaxing. Night had just fallen upon The Entity's realm, and you went to your Special place on the edge of the forest for some solitude. 

The next trials were strange, to say the least. You went up against The Trickster every time and every time you got the hatch. By the sixth trial, you knew something was up. The amount of luck you would need to find the hatch first five times in a row when you're shorter and slower than Ji-Woon was almost impossible. You were very suspicious, so when the hatch spawned right next to you once Jane died, you hid in wait. Luckily, the bushes in Dead Dawg Saloon provided excellent cover. 

Starting to hear The Trickster's musical build-up, you held your breath and tried not to make a sound. He was close enough that your heart was beating; he had to have heard the hatch's ambient noise by now. From your bush hiding spot, you saw him look at the hatch, then look around, and then walk away. 

Your shock caused you to accidentally fall out of your bush. The both of you locked eyes and held expressions of utter surprise. At the same time, both of you ask, "What are you doing?" 

Scoffing, you ask, "You thought you saw the hatch first; why didn't you close it?" Your eyes widen as the realization dawns upon you, "Were you doing this every trial? I don't get it! You love killing me; what would make you give that up?" 

Ji-Woon's shoulders tensed, and he averted his gaze. Faintly, he whispered, "Well, why were you waiting here?" He crossed his arms over his broad chest, "There was no reason for you to stay." 

Getting up off the ground and standing to your full height, you pat your shorts clean of dust, "For your information, I found it suspicious that I was finding hatch first every time, and rightfully so." You squint your eyes and point at him, "Clearly, you're up to something." 

In real-time you see The Trickster mask don Ji-Woon's face, "What? I can't give my favorite fan a free escape now and then?" 

You give him a deadpan look and answer matter-of-factly, "Not when you love to hear your "favorite fan's" screams of pain, no." 

The pleasant smile slowly falls from Ji-Woon's face and is replaced with a frown as he finally reveals the real reason for his kindness, "I remember the night you died." 

Your body goes straight as a rod, and your eyes quickly shift to the open hatch behind Ji-Woon. Noticing your eye movement, he steps to the side, giving you a clear out, but you don't take it. Instead, you look him in the eyes and brashly say, "So, what? You feel bad now? Yun-Jin told me I wasn't the first, and I certainly wasn't the last." Fists clenching at your sides, you don't stop, "This is just another way to manipulate one of your "fans" and I'm not buying it." 

In response, all Ji-Woon can do is give you a sad and regretful look. You used to love him so much, but he turned that adoration into hatred. Placing his bat on the ground, Ji-Woon asked timidly, "Can I do anything to show you that I don't wish to kill you anymore or ever again?" 

You thought for a bit. How could you use this manipulation to your advantage? Glancing around in contemplation, your eyes landed on a locker, or a reload station for Ji-Woon, and an idea struck, "Give me one of your knives." You held out your hand and made a come-hither motion, silently telling him where to place the knife.

For a moment Ji-Woon hesitated, and you used that moment to say, "If you aren't going to do it, I'll just leave." 

Before you could blink, the handle of one of his blades was placed in your hands, "Just don't go showing it off to anyone, Starstruck" A wink followed, "Let's keep this idol-fan relationship a secret between just the two of us." 

Your grip on the handle tightened, and your heart started beating for all the wrong reasons. Don't forget that he's a killer, a torturer, a murderer. He doesn't mean any of this. But god, did it feel good to get some attention from your old favorite bias. A robotic nod was all Ji-Woon got in response from you before you leaped into the hatch.

That was the start of many meetings the two of you had at the end of trials. You both learned that if he didn't close the hatch and you didn't open the exit gates, you had all the time in the world to talk. At first, the meetings were awkward, but over time the both of you warmed up to each other. You still didn't trust him entirely, but after so much time spent with Ji-Woon, you were getting to a place of mutual trust.

It was during one of these meetings that Ji-Woon realizes that he loves you almost as much if not more than he loves himself. You're fun, you're utterly enchanting, and you understand his music, even the screaming bits. That realization soon causes the fear to set in: the fear of your pain. 

After that meeting, he tries to convince the other killers to go easy on you. You're his, after all; he should be the only one allowed to cause you pain. Some agree, and some don't. Those who disagree with his terms become his enemies. Any way he can, he tries to screw them over. The Entity seems to be in favor of your relationship as well. Ji-Woon can't remember a single trial where you aren't one of the four survivors with him. 

Things were heating up between the two of you, but there had to be just one final push to bring the two of you together. Starting another trial, you see it's going to take place in Ormond. Great, this place is notorious for having difficult-to-work generators because of the cold. There's no time to waste, so you start to idly connect some wires. Yun-Jin makes her way over and begins to help out.

Things are going smoothly when the two of you hear the build-up for The Trickster's music. Yun-Jin lets out a quiet, "Oh god", but you just keep on working and touch the knife in your pocket. After that trial at Dead Dawg Saloon, Ji-Woon stopped trying to kill you altogether. He only ever hooked you when you wanted to make yourself seem less suspicious. 

The only one who had seemed at all suspicious was Yun-Jin. As the music kept crescendoing, and you kept working, Yun-Jin's feelings from before came to a climax. She asked with determination, "How do you know Ji-Woon?" Her question made you mess up and explode the generator in front of the two of you. 

You tried to play it off, "I have no idea what you mean."

But she wasn't buying it, "I know you know him. That's the only explanation for how he plays the game around you. Do you ever notice how you always escape the trials he's in, how you could last longer than anyone else in a chase?" 

The music was so loud now that you could barely hear her, but she still managed to yell out, "Who are you?"

Giving her a pained look, you finally reveal, "He killed me!" That was the last thing Yun-Jin heard before going down and being hooked. As you ran in the opposite direction in mock panic, you got one last look at Yun-Jin's shocked and regret filled face. You tried to help the rest of your team during the trial, but as usual, it was all futile.

Ji-Woon entered Ormond's main building after hooking Jake, the last survivor before you, when he saw your shivering form. There you were, in all of your beauty, hugging yourself on the couch. How had he never noticed how the cold affected you here. Immediately, Ji-Woon removed his jacket and put it over your quaking shoulders. Looking up with a smile, you shakily thank him. 

He takes a seat next to you on the couch, but before he gets the chance to speak, he feels you subtly scooting closer to him and the heat he provides. Any chance Ji-Woon has to be close to you, he'll take. So, he puts his arm around your shoulders and pulls you to his side. 

Blushing, you look up at him, "Ji, you don't have to do this. I'm sure you're just as cold as I am." Thinking for a moment, you hesitantly suggest, "I could leave through hatch, then you wouldn't have to be-"

Ji-Woon put his chin on his outstretched hand and gave you one of his best celebrity looks, "Oh, Starstruck, you can't get rid of me that easily" 

Snuggling into Ji-Woon more, you speedily reply, "No! I treasure every moment I can spend with you..." Trailing off, you keep going, "I just don't want you to suffer." 

Your words make him think about all the times you've had to suffer. Whether it was being in The Entity's realm or by his hands in the real world, you've suffered enough in Ji-Woon's eyes. He holds you tighter and says one of the sweetest things you've ever heard, "If I could suffer for eternity instead of you, I would do so in a heartbeat." Looking down at your pure and kind expression, Ji-Woon swallowed. "You don't deserve the pain of this place."

His words felt so genuine and true; this was one of the many moments when it became impossible for you to tell yourself that this was all an act. His charming gestures in response to your shivering and his sweet words gave you the courage to lean in for a kiss, but halfway you started to chicken out. What were you thinking? Ji-Woon thought himself  a god; there was no way he would even consider kissing a nobody like you. 

But before you could back off completely, Ji-Woon made up the final distance and met your lips with his own in the most endearing kiss you've ever experienced. As you were kissing Ji-Woon, you felt something strange wash over you; it had the same feeling as entering the fog. The kiss lasted for ages, and the two of you only broke away when the need to breathe became too much. 

When you opened your eyes and saw The Enity's claws coming up behind Ji-Woon, you pulled him back before any harm could come to him. At first, he was confused by your actions, until he also saw The Entity rising from the ground. 

"That was impressive." 

These words streamed into both of your heads, causing you to hold them in pain. You looked at each other in confusion.

"That true love's kiss was very touching." The disembodied voice sounded like it licked its lips, "Fortunately for you, these emotions taste way better than pain and mania. I won't be letting this relationship fail any time soon. Anything the two of you desire will be yours."

Soon enough, the both of you figured out this must be The Entity speaking. Ji-Woon was the first to speak up, "I'll be happy as long as I can stay with her." 

You looked at Ji-Woon, no longer starstruck, but still very much in love, "I have the same wish."

"It shall be done." 

Staring lovingly into Ji-Woon's eyes with a smile, the two of you lean in for one more kiss.

A/N:  Thank you so much for reading! I hope my first attempt at writing a murderer wasn't too bad. If you've made it this far I cannot recommend fifteenine's work on AO3 enough; please go read it. It deserves a lot of love.

[therenlover]

One Last Night In Madripoor (An 18+ Helmut Zemo/Reader Oneshot)

Synopsis: Baron Helmut Zemo is a lonely, wanted man looking for some fun, you’re a piss-poor bounty hunter in search of a connection before leaving your life of crime behind, and fate has brought you together at a party the likes of which has never been seen before. You only have one night left in Madripoor, so why not take a chance?

Tags: Smut, SoftDom!Zemo, Hook Up, Semi-Public Sex, Drinking, Safe Sex, Explicit Consent, First Meeting, Wall Sex, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Swearing, Explicit Sexual Content

Word Count: 4200~

This fic has been crossposted under the same title to my AO3!

---------

Madripoor was a place like nothing you had ever seen.

It wasn’t that the sights were anything special. You could find seedy criminal underbellies lined with neon where the streets ran red with blood anywhere if you looked hard enough. Even the ocean view didn’t do much to set it apart from any other place visually. No, Madripoor’s scenery and architecture weren’t what kept your eyes wide with wonder whenever you found yourself wandering through the winding back-alleys without a purpose. It was the people that kept you around.

Thieves, pirates, and miscreants had been taking shelter at the docks since before anyone there could remember. It was a city borne of the underbelly of society, the people nobody sees, but you saw them. You saw them every day when you stood in the main market waiting for an easy bounty. There were faces everywhere; big and small, tall and short, scarred and flawless. No two people in the streets of Madripoor were ever exactly alike. If you needed to remember someone, their unique face was right there waiting in your mind.

After living on the island for almost 6 months, most people were already cataloged neatly in your mind as friend or foe. This man, though, he was new. He was different.

The night was still young. There was some trouble at the Princess Bar that ended with Selby dead and a few murderers loose in the streets with a price on their heads, but you steered clear. Going after the killers meant going up against hundreds if not thousands of trained bounty hunters and assassins and no amount of money was worth dying over now, not while you were so close to freedom. Instead of chasing your doom, you decided to head to your room, get dressed up, and head out to wherever the music was loudest in search of a place to forget about your problems for the night. The thudding sounds of poorly DJ-ed club remixes led you to Leonardo’s Place. That’s where you found him.

You were two drinks in and sticking close to the wall when he stumbled into your line of sight. What initially caught your eye was his dancing. He couldn’t move for shit. What kept your attention, though, was his face.

There was transience to him, like at any moment someone could bump into him and he would disappear without a trace at their touch. Despite that he was gaudy. Everything about his clothing screamed wealth and fine taste from the thread count of his obnoxious purple turtleneck to the shine on his boots. He was strange, a walking contradiction, and one who had never had the pleasure of gracing your presence or screwing you over in the past. In the simplest of terms, he intrigued you. With nothing left to lose you downed the last of your cocktail and made your way to the gap in the crowd where the stranger had staked his claim. It was game time.

“You come here alone?” You asked. Your voice was barely a whisper above the heavy thrumming of the music.

He gave you a long look up and down before answering as if he were trying to size you up. Something about having his gaze linger on your body made your heartbeat soar. “I’m not looking for company,” His accented tone was gruff but left a sliver of room for reconsideration. You took the chance. What could go wrong?

With as much tact and grace as you could muster you let yourself slip a little closer to him. “What, do I look too expensive for you?” you teased, before backing off with a grin, “Thanks for the compliment, but I’m not here for that. My job is a little more… dangerous.” As you danced, the hem of your dress rode up your thigh just enough to reveal the knife holster in your garter belt. It pleased you greatly to see this handsome stranger do a double-take; that meant he was looking at your upper thigh in the first place. “I just liked what I saw in you… do you like what you see in me?”

Somehow, your little joke had endeared him to you, however minutely. Instead of brushing you off the man paused his jerky dancing for a moment to really take you in. Then, he caved. “Would you like a drink?” He asked.

You smirked. “Who would I be if I turned down a free drink from a handsome stranger,”

He met you in the middle as he offered you his hand. “I never promised it would be free,”

So, the two of you found yourselves at the bar, bodies leaned into each other and away from the rest of the sweltering crowd as the bartender slid you your order. The stranger was drinking a brandy straight while you opted for a sidecar. It was enough alcohol that you were starting to feel pretty buzzed, but you still felt in full control of yourself. You took a long sip before speaking. “So, what should I call you?”

It took him a moment to respond but once he did, he seemed sure of himself. “You can call me Helmut, but Baron is fine as well,”

You cocked up an eyebrow. “Is that a nickname?”

“More of a title,”

He took a drink as you gawked. “Like royalty?”

“Not like. I am,”

Your cheeks flushed. The rational part of your mind was so stunned by the ease with which Helmut lied that it seemed to short circuit completely, leaving you very puzzled and more than a little intrigued. “Well, pardon me, Mr. Baron. What’s royalty like you doing in a place like this?”

“There are plenty of reasons a man like me would have business here. A woman as beautiful as you, though… not so much,” he waved his hand in loose gestures as he spoke, “Why risk your life and beauty for this? A life living in the underground where you cannot so much as dream of seeing the stars?”

You finished your drink in one large swig. It burned down your throat but you relished in the pain. “Not all of us are lucky enough to be born in a place where we can see the stars. Funny enough, though, I’m just about to get out,”

“Is that right?”

“I finally saved up enough money from small jobs to buy my way out from under the Power Broker’s thumb,” Something about the way Helmut smiled at you made you feel safe. It was like you could tell him your worst, darkest secrets and not feel an ounce of fear or guilt. “I’m nothing special here, a small-time bounty hunter, and I kept it that way for a reason. I’m not valuable and I don’t know much. If I just pay my dues and keep the money coming until I can get their claws out of my back, I should be free to leave with a freighter tomorrow morning,”

Helmut was quick to respond. “Ah, travel by freighter. It’s terribly dangerous to be a stowaway, you know? Impossible to predict quite what the seas will be like,”

“Well, that’s just a risk I’ll have to take to get out of here and stop… what was it that you said I was doing? Risking my life and beauty?”

The two of you chuckled as Helmut took one last drink to empty his glass. Then, the conversation stilled. Around you people were alive, gyrating to the music as their pulses thumped to the beat, but it was like they weren’t even there. Instead, your whole being was focused on the strange man in front of you who had stolen away your sensibilities with his cool tone and thick accent. He made you feel alive. No, more than alive. Every color was brighter, every sound was sharper, every sip of your drink was crisper. He was a once-in-a-lifetime man, and this was a once-in-a-lifetime night. Oh, to hell with it!

“I like you, Baron,” you purred, pressing yourself close to him. His breath hitched the moment you touched him. He acted as if it had been a very long time since he was last touched like that. “And I think you like me too. In fact, I think you like me enough that we should take this conversation somewhere a little more private. What do you say?”

He didn’t respond. Instead, his gloved hand made its way around your wrist, and in a moment’s time, he was pulling you across the crowded dance floor towards a small, secluded hallway. You assumed that meant yes.

The instant you made it to the shelter of the shadows Helmut was on you like a man starved. One of his hands was quick to explore the skin just above the hem of your dress as the other pressed against the wall, caging you in and holding you as a more than willing hostage to his affections. He didn’t kiss your face, and you weren’t complaining about that, but he did put his mouth to good use sucking a dark bruise into your collarbone. His ministrations only stopped when a high, keening sound escaped your lips.

“You like that, don’t you, meine kleine schlampe?” he growled through gritted teeth. Something about his tone turned your already weak legs to jelly. The second you went limp in his grip, though, he pulled back. Straightening himself out, he offered you a steadying arm. You took it without hesitation. “I’m terribly sorry to be so rude. I assure you that I am not usually the type of man to hook up with someone on a whim, I’ve simply been… indisposed for many years and haven’t had many opportunities for pleasure, especially not with a woman as beautiful as you,”

His compliment was enough to have you blushing like a schoolgirl. You had killed more people than you could reasonably count, and probably fucked even more, but something about the way Helmut looked and sounded and acted made you feel almost innocent to his advances. He was a drug and you needed to get your fix before he disappeared forever.

“Does that mean you think I’m special?” You asked, all doe eyes with an innocent smile. Helmut ate it right up.

“Yes, schatzi. Very special,”

You hitched a leg up, letting your heel dig into his expensive dress pants and drag him closer to you once again. “First your little slut and now your little treasure? Which one is it, Helmut?”

“And so smart,”

“Move, Baron!”

At your insistence, Helmut was on you once again, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses down your neck as he fiddled with his gloves, yanking them off and shoving them in his back pocket before he continued. “So demanding,” he chided, and yet he continued to lavish you with affection, his hand climbing higher and higher up your thigh. Your back was pressed flush to the wall now, and you were painfully aware of just how warm Helmut was. He smelled like a rich man’s cologne and yet his skin tasted of cheap soap when you leaned in to give him a bruise of his own.

“You love it,” you replied. He let out a husky laugh.

“I suppose I do,” he chuckled, and then his fingers brushed over your core. Your knees buckled. Helmut kept you upright with his body as he continued to taunt you through your underwear, but he seemed more confident now, almost cocky. “My needy schatzi, have you no patience?”

Your response was breathless; a confession.

“Not with you,”

Something about your words lit a fire in Helmut’s eyes. In an instant he had your leg hiked up while he ground his hardened length against your clothed wetness. Your mind went blank. He felt big. A mindless whimper fell from your lips.

“How do you want me?” Helmut asked. As he spoke he ran a light finger down your elevated thigh. You offered up another whimper. “I’ll need you to use your words and tell me what you want or I can’t give it to you,” His tone had you wet enough that you worried you were dripping.

With a gulp, you managed to fumble out the words. “I’ll blow you first if you promise to fuck me,”

That had him grinning like a wolf. “Perhaps you are my little schlampe, so eager to get down on your knees for me…” And you were. Even on shaky legs, you found yourself happily falling to your knees as the Baron fumbled with his fly. It was only then that you found yourself gazing down the hall towards the cacophony of lights and sounds and people maybe 20 feet away from your hiding place in the shadows. As if he could sense your discomfort, Helmut paused. “Are you alright?”

You nodded quickly. “I just forgot we were out in the open for a second,”

“Do you want to stop? If the location is the problem, I would gladly pause so we can find a new hideaway,” he stopped short, looking down and meeting your heavily lidded gaze, “or perhaps the idea of putting on a show excites you?” Your heart jumped out of your chest. Helmut noticed. “Well, if my little schlampe is so keen on putting on a show, she should get a move on,”

That was your cue to get to work. In a swift motion, you finished unzipping his fly and shifted his boxers, letting his lovely cock spring free. It was a pleasant penis and far as they went, average in length but thick with a leaking purple tip at half-mast. Just looking at it made you clamp your legs together.

Slowly, you gave a tentative lick up the underside of his length. He felt heavy on your tongue in the best of ways. Helmut jerked upward, a man possessed. You couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s been a long time, huh?”

“Less talking, more working little schlam-” you cut Helmut off quickly by taking most of his length into his mouth. That seemed to shut him up. His wolf-like grin had dissolved into a slack-jawed mess the second you started to suck him off. Oh, this was going to be fun.

For the most part, the Baron let you set the pace, bobbing your head and taking as much of his length as you comfortably could, but after a short while his hands were buried in your hair as he fought the urge to buck into your throat, hard. With a particularly rough snap of his hips, Helmut pulled away.

“You are an angel from heaven, schatzi,” he groaned, pulling himself slowly from your mouth as you got your first good deep breath in a while, “but a deal is a deal, and it wouldn’t be quite fair if I got to have all the fun, now would it?” Your breath hitched in your throat. Finally time for the main event.

Helmut was surprisingly gentle with you as he offered you a hand and helped you back up, only pausing to wipe a line of dribble off your chin with his thumb. With anyone else, it would have felt wholly humiliating but with Helmut… well, it did things to you you would rather not admit. You quirked up an eyebrow, though, when he got on his knees in turn, mirroring your past position. “What are you doing, Baron?”

“I simply assumed my sweet schatzi would enjoy a reward for taking my cock so well,” his words had you biting your lip as your cheeks flushed, “now be a good girl and take what I give you. I want to hear those pretty noises you made earlier,” With that, his face disappeared under your skirt. He pulled down your panties and… snickered?

“What now?” you groaned, squirming as his hot breath hit your exposed nub.

“You’re sopping wet,” he replied. Out of habit, you moved to shut your legs but found Helmut’s large hand was holding them open. “I do enjoy being sandwiched between your thighs, but you shouldn’t hide yourself from me. Take your pleasure. You’ve earned it,” That was when he began his assault on your folds.

You had been with plenty of partners over the years, all with varying proficiencies when it came to giving pleasure, but no one had ever made you feel quite as good as Helmut did while you gripped his hair and rode his face with reckless abandon. He always hit just the right spot, alternating between sucking on your sensitive clit and running his rough tongue in sloppy circles against it. In no time flat your pleasure was building toward’s its peak as your knees trembled.

“Helmut,” you squeaked, “Helmut I’m gonna cuuuUUOH!”

You were suddenly thrown over the edge of pleasure as the Baron worked you open with his fingers, pressing that spot inside of you just right. It was a revelation. Nothing would ever compare to him and you hadn’t even fucked yet. Once you had regained some semblance of stability he emerged from his place between your thighs, face slick with your juices, wearing the expression of a cat that got the cream.

“You make such lovely sounds for me, schatzi,” Helmut groaned, rising from his place at your feet and reaching into his pocket. While he fumbled for a condom you took the time to actually remove your panties, lifting one shaky leg at a time before balling them up and tossing them on the ground. You could grab them later. Or not! In all honesty, your ruined undies were the last thing on your mind as your watched Helmut roll the condom onto his proud cock, pumping himself a few times. “Now, are you sure you want this?”

You had never felt more sober in your whole life despite the drinks you’d downed earlier.

“God, yes,”

“Wonderful,”

He caged you into his body once again, lining himself up on your slick folds, and then with a pronounced bite against your collarbone, he was entering you. It wasn’t painful or uncomfortable, you just felt full, like a missing piece of your body had been completed. For the first few thrusts, you were too blissed out to really take note of anything around you, but once you tuned back into the world of the living you realized Helmut was talking. Well, babbling was more like it. He seemed to simply be speaking his stream of consciousness into your ear as he pistoned in and out of you like a madman. There was a jilted rhythm to it, but the abnormality kept you on your toes.

“I won’t be letting you go any time soon, schatzi, and definitely not on some dank freighter like a rat from the gutters. No, you will travel with me. Once I help my friends and slip away from the front lines I can take you anywhere your little heart desires. Paris, Vienna, Australia… Mein Gott, what a sweet cunt,”

Any sane woman, after hearing his sex-drunken musings, would have run. They would have heard the wild ramblings of a madman and left after their little fling was done to never see him again. It was only rational. He didn’t even know your real name. Sane women didn’t run away with strangers claiming to be barons they hooked up with in a seedy club selling stolen Van Goghs in a hub of the criminal underworld.

The only thing was, though, that you weren’t a sane woman.

You were a killer, a child left in the streets to live or die who had scraped themselves together and dragged themselves towards life. So what if the idea of some rich mysterious benefactor with a good dick coming in to save the day sounded fantastic? It was fantastic. Like your own personal version of Pretty Woman. Even if he wasn’t as rich as he claimed to be, being poor and getting dicked down by him was better than being poor and alone.

For just a moment, and with no regrets, you let yourself get lost in the fantasy and just let go.

It was as if Helmut could sense a difference.

“Are you close, little schlampe?” He gasped, letting his thrusts take on a faster staccato rhythm.

You could do little more than moan and nod as he pounded you into the wall. That seemed to be enough for him to get the message, though.

“What a good girl,” he purred. His mouth was so close to your ear, his hot breath tickling the sensitive flesh with each heaving breath he took. As he chased his own climax, he brought a hand between your bodies and rubbed tight, wet circles around your clit. It was already sensitive, your body was only barely recovering from your first orgasm, and yet something about the overstimulation was thrilling, like racing towards an impossible dream. With a shout, you came for the second time, melting into Baron Helmut’s arms as he quickly followed.

The two of you stayed there, slumped against the cool wall and still connected by your dripping sexes, for a few moments, breathing heavy. Surprisingly, you were the first to speak.

“Wow,” you breathed, letting a soft laugh escape your lips.

Helmut returned the sentiment. “You were wonderful,” In a strange moment of intimacy, he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, but then he pulled out, tying off the full condom and tossing it to the ground as he tucked himself back into his boxers and zipped up his fly.

“Are you just gonna leave that there?” you made a gesture towards his litter.

“They have janitors,”

A burbling laugh escaped from your lips. “That they do,”

Back in the main room of the party, the crowd had only grown larger as the night progressed. Nobody had seen you, nor had they noticed your cries as they danced and drank and made merry under the neon lights. You were, for all intents and purposes, invisible at Helmut’s side. Within and without. There was something exhilarating about knowing he was the only one that truly saw you in a room packed with hundreds. It was like something out of a twisted fairytale.

“So…” you broached the subject gently while you pulled down your dress to protect your modesty, “Did you mean what you said back there about Paris and Vienna, or…”

“Oh, you heard that?”

You snickered. “It was pretty hard not to with you breathing in my ear,”

“I apologize,” he leaned against the wall beside you, shoulder to shoulder in the darkness, “but yes, I meant what I said. I-”

Suddenly, from down the hall, a booming voice interrupted your moment.

“There you are!”

“Goddamnit, Zemo, I thought we told you to stay low not hire an escort,”

There, at the mouth of the hallway, stood two massive men. They were obviously displeased, and though their faces were obscured by the lights you could tell you weren’t the one they were after.

They called him Zemo… where had you heard that name before?

Helmut stepped away from the wall with a shrug. “At least I didn’t cause a scene by forgetting to put my phone on silent,”

The larger of the two men stayed where he was, while the other walked to meet the Baron in the middle.

“I swear to God, man, you’ve gotten ten times more insufferable since I learned you were rich.

The Baron shrugged. “It comes with the territory,”

“But you don’t have to be such a jackass about it,”

You felt it was a good time to chime in.

“Thank you so much for that, Helmut, but I think I should give you guys some privacy,” you said, straightening out your dress and walking deeper into the hallway. There had to be an exit somewhere…

“Wait!” When you turned, you found Helmut rushing to meet you. The men in the background looked shocked and almost smug. “Save your money. Meet me out at the airstrip tomorrow afternoon if you feel like seeing me again. If not, know that the Power Broker doesn’t let go of assets cheap, and you just slept with a man with a million dollar bounty, so buying your freedom isn’t an option. If you want to go without me, you’ll have to hitch a ride on a cargo ship but not as a stowaway. Working for your keep is the best way to stay under the radar. Nobody can touch you once you’r-”

You cut him off by pressing a finger to his lips. “I’ll see you at your private jet, Baron,”

He smirked. “So you will,” With as much gusto as a man could muster, he returned to his companions but not before offering one last goodbye. “Farewell, schatzi, until tomorrow,”

As you leaned up against the wall once more, you watched them go with a twinkle in your eye.

“Who was that?”

“None of your business, James,”

“Guys, what the hell did I just step on?”

“I believe that was my used rubber,”

“ZEMO!”

-------

a/n: I hope you enjoyed the filth! I haven’t written for Zemo before, even though I’ve loved him for years, but he’s definitely going into my main rotation now. If you have any ideas, send them my way! I’d love to fill the void, because there just aren’t very many Zemo x reader fics out there. If you enjoyed this, maybe reblog or leave a comment! I’d love to hear your thoughts. Thanks again!

Please do not post my works to any other sites, thanks! <3

[forever-rogue]

if you’re still taking requests for Bucky, can you do one from this quote if it sparks any inspiration: ‘when you realize you can tell someone your truth, when you can stand in front of them and show yourself and their response is “you’re safe with me” - that’s intimacy.’

A/N: please, this is so soft 🥺

Pairing: Bucky x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: none

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

A heavy sigh escaped soft lips as Bucky laid on the couch and stared at the ceiling. There was almost no sound in the room besides the rhythmic ticking of the aging clock on the wall, combined with the sounds wafting in from the open window, and the almost non-existent humming of his vibranium appendage. He reached his hand up to his chest to ground himself by touching the dog tags that had been his for way too many years now. A temporary moment of panic set into his bones when he realized there was nothing there, but revelation quickly dawned on him as he remembered that they were currently with you. The last he’d seen them, you were wearing them, the metallic silver tags safely nestled under the soft fabric of your t-shirt.

When he’d given them to you, a sign of his desire to call you his, among other things, he never actually expected that you’d wear them. The first time he’d spied you wearing them, along a casual outfit consisting of jeans and a t-shirt and sneakers, he’d almost short circuited. There was something about comforting knowing they were safe and sound in your possession now. They were yours now too - just like he was.

A gentle tugging lifted the corners of his mouth into the semblance of a smile. How foreign it still felt sometimes, the gentle feeling of blossoming happiness and knowing he was loved. Loved. What a strange and odd concept that was. He couldn’t remember the last another soul had told him they loved him besides in the most platonic sense. But the first time you’d whispered those words to him, so effortlessly, so easily, I love you, his whole world came to a screeching halt and he was sent into a wild spiral that left him speechless. Bucky hadn’t reciprocated your words then; but it wasn’t long after that he did. It had been a half shout, half declaration as you just grinned at him, pulling him against your lips and only letting him go when you were both breathless and dizzy.

He relaxed at the thought, settling against the pillow as he reminded himself to swim in happy memories, rather than drown in the ghosts of the past.

His phone vibrated against the glass top of the coffee table as it startled him out of his stupor, causing him to almost roll off the couch in surprise. He scrambled to grab the phone, and relaxed when he saw your name on the screen. Straightening himself up, he cleared his throat before answering, “hi sweetheart.”

“Bucky!” your excited voice on the other end of the line made his heart relax as he just imagined you bouncing around your small floral shop, making sure everything was perfect, “it’s about time you answered, old man. I’ve called you like three times! Did I disturb your afternoon nap, Barnes?”

“Hey, watch who you’re calling an old man,” he snorted as he stood up and stretched, surprised by how easily you were able to read him, “I got decades on you, kid, respect your elders.”

“Respect me when I’m right,” you grinned as he laughed lightly. How easily everything seemed to flow between the two of you; he’d never thought he could have anything like this again. Even once he’d left Wakanda and life slowly went back to a semblance of normality after the Blip, he still had a hard time trusting people; perhaps, more than anything else, he didn’t trust himself.

While he knew he was himself again, Bucky, and not the Winter Soldier, he still was never quite convinced that he wouldn’t ever go back. For so long he had been nothing but a killer, it was hard to believe that he could ever be fully himself again. So he’d closed himself off, steeled himself, despite the constant reassurance from the people around him that it was okay to let others in. He couldn’t trust himself - after so long...how could he? How was he just supposed to be able to pick the pieces and just be James again?

But he was learning, over time, slowly, bit by bit, that it was okay to let people in, okay to feel, and be okay and also not be okay. Sure, some days were hard, but the good days were good. And they were getting to become more and more frequent.

“Bucky? Hello?” you called his name from the other line, trying to get him to snap back into attention, “James? James Buchanan Barnes?”

“S-sorry,” his voice was soft and gentle for a moment, “I...yeah.”

“Yeah,” you teased softly, “zoning out again huh, my love? I know how you get. What are you thinking about, Bucky?”

“Nothing much,” he admitted, shrugging to himself despite the fact that you weren’t able to see him, “when are you off?”

“Whenever I want to be,” you reminded him, “I’m the boss now, remember? Why do you ask? Got some grand plans for us?”

“Nah,” he confessed, “just want to come and see you. Is it okay if I stop in? I’d come and bring you some flowers...but that would seem a little...on the nose.”

“Ahh, look at you,” he could practically hear you grinning, “very clever, aren’t you? Come and see me - it’s been slow so I might as well close up when you get here. Maybe we can go for a walk and get dinner?”

“Sounds great,” he agreed softly, “see you soon.”

“See you soon, Bucky.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

While you waited for Bucky to arrive, a brilliant idea popped into your head. You quickly grabbed a vase and started to gather some of the flowers that reminded you of him. It wasn’t long before you had a variety of them, neatly arranged and topped off with a bow, ready and waiting for him. He walked into your small shop, ready to announce himself but quickly found that he didn’t have to.You were perched up on the counter, swinging your legs back and forth as you tilted your head to the side and studied him with a small smile. He was dressed casually today, sporting a dark blue henley and a pair of well fitting jeans. His arm, intricate and beautifully designed golden and black vibranium, wasn’t on full display, nor was it completely hidden. Progress; a step in the right direction, albeit small. He’d get there when he’d get there and if that took another five years or fifty, you planned on being there for him.

“Hi James,” you popped off the counter and met him halfway, letting him wrap you up and envelope you in his warm, tight grasp. His arms, his body, was your favorite place to be. You never felt more safe and secure than when you were wrapped up in him, “I’ve missed you.”

“Missed me?” he chuckled as you just nodded, pouting lightly as he couldn’t help but kiss you softly, “it’s only been a few hours since we’ve seen each other.”

“I know,” you ran a hand through his dark hair, “but it doesn’t mean I can’t miss you, does it?”

“I suppose you’re right,” he agreed as you took his hand and pulled him over to the counter. Bucky dramatically rolled his eyes as he trailed after you. Your hand looked so small in his hand; delicate skin contrasted against harsh callouses as you gave him a squeeze of reassurance. Whatever hesitation or tension was left in his body seeped, replaced by a feeling of saccharine bliss, “what are you up to?”

“You always think I’m up to something,” standing in front of the flowers, you paused, studying his features before reaching up to tenderly cradle his face in your hands. Bucky, resilient and strong, turned into a puddle of mush and practical whimpers as you traced a delicate fingertip across his features, “perhaps this time you’re right.”

“Tell me then,” he turned his face, pressing a gentle kiss to your palm as you used your free hand to reach behind you and push the vase to your side so he could see the ornate display. Blue eyes narrowed, highlighting the wary crease in his brow before they widened, softening all the way through. His hand slinked down to your waist, a light squeeze followed as he shuffled to the side and studied the flowers. Bright yellows and oranges, brilliant crimsons and pinks, and mellow pastels were suddenly under his intense scrutiny as he took in the sight of the blossoms, “w-what are these?”

“And here I was, thinking you were smart,” standing behind him, you wrapped your arms around his waist, delicately and slowly at first so you wouldn’t startle him. His frame stiffened for a mere moment before he relaxed, the weight of your head on his back a welcome burden he was happy to bear, “these are called flowers.”

“Very funny,” you could feel the laugh vibrate through his chest as a hand, one colder and more metallic than normal, but still all him, settled on your own. Pressing a line of soft kisses to his shoulders, you listened to the steady beating of his heart, “what’s the occasion?”

“There is none,” you insisted, “I just thought you would enjoy them. Look at the colors and blossoms, they all reminded me of you. So brilliant and warm and bright and lovely - just like you, Bucky.”

A few beats of silence met your ears as he inhaled and exhaled deeply, a million thoughts swirling around his mind. Before you could speak or say anything else, he turned around in your arms so he was facing you. He gestured between you and the flowers for a few moments, finding himself at a loss for words, “me?”

“Yes,” you promised him, “for you. Do you like them?”

“I love them,” he reassured you, an easy warmth settling over you, “back in the day I would have been doing this for you…”

‘You’ve gotten me flowers plenty of times,” you laughed, a sound that had easily become his favorite thing in almost no time, “besides, you deserve some nice things too.”

“I’ve been thinking…”

“That’s a new one,” you teased as he jokingly groaned, “ I jest! I’ve noticed you’ve been a little more quiet and stoic lately...I didn’t even know that was possible for you. What’s been on your mind, my love?”

“There’s this quote that came into mind...I heard it somewhere, but I can’t remember from what or who,” he mused as he rubbed thoughtfully at his chin, “it’s something along the lines of ‘when you realize you can tell someone your truth, when you can stand in front of them and show yourself and their response is “you’re safe with me” - that’s intimacy.’ I feel like...I can do that with you - like I can be myself and you’re not judging me, even though you know who I am.”

“Bucky - James - I know who you are,” it was surprising you didn’t melt into a puddle then and there, melting into nothingness at his feet. You leaned in, looking at his eyes for a few moments before capturing his lips in a soft kiss. You broke apart slowly, reluctantly before resting your forehead against his, “I know exactly you who are. And I love you for it - a good man, friend, partner, and so many other things. You are good, and it doesn’t matter what anyone else says or thinks. Fuck them - the people that know you know who you really are.”

“Even after…”

“Even after everything that’s happened,” you promised, “you are safe with me. I’m not going to suddenly turn my back on you and walk away. I love you, Bucky. You have me, now and forever, and I’ve got you, always. That’s not going to change. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” you could feel him smiling against your lips as he breathed you in and let you overwhelm his senses, “I know that.”

“Good,” you smiled as you reached for his hand, “let’s go to get dinner. I’m starving.”

“Don’t you need to close up?”

“Nah,” you winked at him, “I closed up as soon as we got off the phone earlier so we would have interruptions. C’mon Buck, I’m going to take you for a night on the town! What do you say?”

“Sounds perfect,” he agreed, “there’s just one more thing.”

“Hmm?”

“This,” he pulled you into his arms and kissed you deeply as your body melded into his, “I love you too.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[konmaao3]

WIP Wednesday: Captive (Working Title)

With magic protecting King Harrow of Katolis, the attack of the moonshadow assassins failed before it had even begun. Not all of the intruders were experienced killers, however. Among the survivors there was also an elven girl – surely too young to be an assassin, in all likelihood merely a servant – who, for the time being, escaped execution.

As a magical being in the human lands, she does not only attract the interest of mages, but that of the young princes as well – and at the same time, she still has her own plans and is patiently waiting for just the right moment.

The heavy dungeon door opened, and Rayla could feel the cold air stir before it settled down again. Determined footsteps approached, accompanied by the clinking of armour, but she didn’t bother to get up and stayed on her heap of straw. For weeks now nothing of importance had happened, guards bringing food or fetching the bucket was as exciting as it got down here. She had explored every inch, looking for possible ways to escape at first, for anything later on. Naked stone and unyielding iron, however, had nothing to offer, and she had given up for the time being, beginning a life of monotony that could last days or decades.

“Prisoner.” Apparently that was to change now. She looked at the entrance to her cell where two soldiers were standing on the other side of the bars. “Your chains. The High Mage wants to see you.”

The assassin sat up, suddenly wide awake, her eyes darting around, her mind racing. The High Mage? Was that … the mage? Who had been at the Storm Spire the day Avizandum had died … had been killed? Who had possibly been responsible for the disaster their mission had turned into – there had been much time to think about it, and Rayla had an idea how magic could have ruined everything. Impossible to say what the mage wanted. In the worst case, harvest her for dark magic. In the best case … She couldn’t really think of something good that might happen.

Slowly walking over towards the iron bars separating her from the soldiers, she wondered whether it was time to risk something. The risk would be big, however – they still weren’t taking any chances. Only after they had handed her the usual two chains and she had closed the manacles around her ankles and wrists did they open the cell. If she was quick, she could perhaps take out one of them. The chains were about one foot in length each, not allowing for much mobility, but maybe the possibility to strangle someone.

Unfortunately, there were two guards and probably many more outside, and she didn’t have much knowledge about the castle towering on top of the dungeon. For the moment, it was seemingly for the best to just let them escort her to the High Mage of Katolis – a worthier target anyway.

“What does he want?” she asked. An attempt couldn’t hurt. None of the guards answered, and she cleared her throat to try again. “What –”

“Don’t know,” the soldier walking behind her interrupted.

Rayla licked her lips. “Will I die?”

A pause. “Don’t know.”

Or so they said. But it was something she had expected to happen ever since she had been captured. As far as she knew, the others had already suffered that very fate on the day of the disaster, and in the end she was a moonshadow elf just like them. Rayla grimaced in shame. They had been surprised like amateurs, shortly after their arrival, before binding themselves. She had just taken a bath in the river, not even carrying any weapons, not even wearing armour or her boots, when the soldiers had suddenly been on top of them, and that had been that. Of course there had been strong magic facilitating that trap, and still … She had failed, just like her parents.

But at least these circumstances – and her young age – had made it possible for her to feign innocence, to pretend she wasn’t one of the assassins, and that had probably saved her life. For now.

After ascending a spiral staircase, Rayla was led through the rest of the castle that she hadn’t seen in weeks, and she was surprised to see that it was a sunny day. Right, it should be summer by now. Her cell didn’t have any windows, so she was living in perpetual darkness that was only brightened by torches or lanterns in the corridor.

She didn’t mind the blackness, honestly, but she did miss the moon.

On her way to the High Mage and possibly her death, the assassin tried to memorize the layout of the buildings and walls of Katolis Castle. She needed to know as much as possible if she wanted to achieve anything. Her chances were slim – why had she survived, and not someone more capable? –, but as long as there was hope, she owed it to her people to try. Maybe there was still a way not to be a failure.

Climbing more stairs, the trio eventually reached a large door guarded by more soldiers, and one of them knocked.

“High Mage! It’s the elf.”

“Bring her in,” came the answering call, and Rayla was led into the room.

Lowering her head to appear inconspicuous, she still glanced around. Books, scrolls, artefacts, and objects with unknown purpose were scattered everywhere, as was to be expected from a mage’s study. The wizard himself was a middle-aged man who would have been of remarkable inconspicuousness himself, hadn’t it been for his fancy clothes and the staff he was holding. Certainly not ugly, of average build, the hair cut short – you could pass him on the street and forget him one moment later.

In his study, however, he radiated a threatening aura, and Rayla’s skin crawled at the thought of the things his dark magic had done. He regarded the prisoner for a moment before dismissing the guards.

“Thank you. You can leave us alone.”

“Yes, Lord Viren. Are you sure?”

Viren. Remember that.

He didn’t take his eyes off Rayla. “Quite.”

The soldiers didn’t question him any further and left the room, quietly closing the door from the outside. The mage had retreated to a tall object on the far side of the study, an artefact covered by a curtain that he removed now.

“Come here,” he said. The assassin hesitated. Should she? She didn’t move, thinking about her options, but apparently patience was not among Lord Viren’s virtues. “Elf. Do you understand me?”

She regarded him for one more moment before she shuffled closer, the chain between her feet clinking with every step. If she was to kill him, being close would be better than standing at the other side of the room. The object in question was a mirror, taller than an elf, the frame covered in runes. Looking at it, Rayla couldn’t but grimace at the image staring back at her. She had always been slender, but the food had been neither good nor plentiful in the past weeks, not to mention the lack of washing possibilities, and it showed. Her cheekbones were clearly visible, her rank hair was unkempt and dotted with straw and dirt, and she could imagine why the humans would deem her harmless.

Hard to imagine what years or even decades in a dungeon could do to you if she was already in such a state after a few weeks. The mage didn’t give her the opportunity to ponder that question, however, gesturing at the mirror instead and addressing her in a demanding tone.

“What is this?”

Rayla frowned, looking back and forth between him and the object in question. “A mirror.”

Lord Viren tapped the floor with his staff. “Yes,” he said impatiently. “And what else?”

“I … don’t know.” Damn it, was that bad? What did this mean? Prisoners lived dangerously, and making yourself useful – or even indispensable – was sometimes the best option to ensure your survival. Not that the assassin wanted to be useful, but it could be a means to an end. She regarded the mirror again. “These are runes on the frame,” she added doubtfully.

The mage snorted. “Yes, yes, but what else? Is that all?”

“Could be magic,” Rayla offered, but without much conviction.

“Hmph. Nobody ever knows anything …”

Could be all kinds of things. However, means to an end or not, she was reluctant to give more information – not that she had any. Who knew what the dark mage would be able to do with that knowledge, with that mirror. Probably better for Xadia if no one ever found out.

She noticed him staring at her head though, and his next question went in an altogether different direction.

“Hm. Do these horns grow back if they are …?” What? Why did he – then a thought occurred to her that made her shudder and take a step back while the mage shook his head, apparently talking with himself rather than with her. “Of course hair and blood are … I have to find a book about that. Guards!”

“Lord Viren!”

They immediately entered, and just like that it had become impossible again to kill the mage. Rayla would need more than a few moments for that, and they would intervene in that time. Covering the mirror, Lord Viren gave the soldiers their next instructions. She half expected them to be an execution order and was surprised by what she heard instead.

“I’m done with her. You can take her to the king now.”

[eponymous-rose]

Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E131 (March 30, 2021)

Tonight’s guests are Liam O’Brien and Sam Riegel!

Brian points out that a lot of Caleb’s greatest fears have come to pass. Liam: “It’s funny, because he’d kind of believed for a while that those things weren’t going to happen. After a while, he got complacent.” He notes that it was extra wild because everything with Trent popped up again in the midst of that complacency. And how did it feel to be defiant toward Trent? “I think Trent successfully made Caleb question if Caleb really was in control“ at the dinner party. “I feel like anything that I do is part of his plans for me, or is that just gaslighting? I’m legitimately scared of that dude.” Sam: “Of Matt?” Liam: “Sure.” He highlights the disconnect between knowing that the M9 is mechanically powerful and could possibly defeat Trent in a dice-and-stats battle, versus fearing him in a story sense and being convinced he can do almost anything.

Sam, on Luc’s death: “That was brutal, man. Matt Mercer is a-- he hates children! Clearly. He actively sought to kill a child in the campaign in as brutal a way as possible. He hates children and wants them dead. Canon. No, but to RP, that was horrible.” He highlights that so much of Veth’s arc has been about trying to get back to her family. “We had to choose something and we thought we were making the right choice. It was all Veth’s fault, and it was pretty rotten. My heart was beating pretty fast, and I certainly didn’t want to have my son die live on the stream. I don’t know what Veth would have done. That’s the end, that’s over. It’s almost worse than when your own character would die. This is something that would also kill Veth.” After the episode was over: “just shaken. I also didn’t know what to do next! That felt like a turning-point moment for my character, weirdly so close to what we assume to be the end arc of this campaign. I texted Matt later that night and was like, that’s it, Veth’s out, I’m tapping out.”

There’s an interlude in which Sam discovers a new dream to record an episode of this show from his Peloton. Dani informs him that she will not be inviting him back.

On Astrid, Liam: “I literally don’t know what she’s doing. I know that she’s dangerous, she always was ambitious, and there’s not been a moment where Caleb let his guard down with her. He’s not trying to reestablish what they had. He cares for the both of them, for Astrid and Eodwulf. He thinks about it a lot, still. He can’t tell how much she buys into everything that she experienced and is now living as a full-grown adult. He suspects that she’s bought in and is not going to change things, because she believes in the system, as much as he’d like to peel her away. He does believe that they want what’s best for the Empire, and stopping whatever wants to come vomiting out of a hole in the frozen north is good for everyone. And they’re powerful. They’re not trustworthy, obviously. But there’s enough at stake to make it worth it. He could imagine a situation where they fight each other to the death.” He was convinced Astrid was going to stop them when they left the tower and was really shocked when she held back. Sam: “Not me! I’ve trusted Astrid since day one. She’s the greatest! I sent a letter to her, she’s very nice, I think you guys would be a nice couple. I believe every word she says.”

On having to decide on Veth deciding to go off and save the world after Luc’s death. “Like I said, I was ready to be done. And then I decided somewhere in there that that’s not very D&D. So I thought I’d leave it up to somebody else, so I asked Caduceus to decide for me, essentially. She knows she’s putting her other family in danger if she doesn’t go. It’s an impossible choice, you know?” Liam: “I love watching you grapple with it, because you’re a lovely father and love your kids.”

On the Sanatorium, Sam: “That was brutal, man. Matt lulls you into a sense of complacency. We’d forgotten that Caleb was a stone-cold killer! It had been a while since he went on a murder spree. Still got it!” Liam: “I never meant for this character to be perfect sunshine.” Brian: “You don’t say.” Liam: “He’s very not-perfect, and I think in his brain, he was going in with the impression that they needed to get in and get out as soon as possible. The place is crawling with people with magic ability, and I didn’t have faith that we wouldn’t be sussed out or something wasn’t going to blow an illusion.” Everything was about getting out of there as fast as possible.

Did the conversation with Yeza help with Veth’s decision? “First of all, every conversation with Yeza is a beautiful one. Every time she talks to Yeza, it makes her feel good. In some ways, she’s gotten to the point now where she knows Yeza’s going to be supportive, she knows he’s going to allow her to do what she wants, but maybe that’s too much. Maybe she needs to not listen to him, basically, and be like, no, you need to be selfish now, dude, you need to say ‘come home, I’m sick of you leaving’. At a certain point, being supportive can turn into being enabling.”

Cosplay of the Week: Jester in the snow! (liljerbear47, photography by kairiceleste on Instagram)

On Trent’s motivations for chasing Caleb: “I really don’t know. The simplest explanation is to just hammer down the nail that’s sticking up. It has crossed his mind that all high-level wizards are in danger of their own ambition and egos, so it’s occurred to him that Trent might have the same kind of ideas that Halas had in the past, and maybe Caleb was always meant to be another body to jump into. Maybe in some sick, disgusting, twisted way, he wants him to be his successor. I am thinking of the next campaign, without getting too deep in, trying to do something that is much more ride-along. Caleb is very, very specific, and I thought long and hard about all the different pieces on the chessboard for him. For campaign three, I’m looking forward to seeing what happens.”

Dani: “Do I need to be keeping lore on your fucking ads?”

On the cursed dagger: “It was a tricky one, because in campaign one, one of the characters was under the influence of a cursed weapon, but it interacted with him and he knew what it was and what it did. And it affected his gameplay as a character. For me, Veth didn’t know what it was, ever. I as a player knew what it was doing, but Veth didn’t know at all. So it was kind of like my dirty, dark secret for many months. I knew this thing was coming perilously close to killing me, but my character didn’t know enough to bring it up to her friends. Nobody ever asked! So I was like, well, I guess this thing’s just going to kill me one day, and it’s kind of going to be a surprise.” Liam: “Sam, you love danger and self-destruction so much, you might as well be Mollymauk.”

On the fight in Yasha’s sequence, Sam: “You gotta put a character in your storm giant creature. It was so fun! It was so great of Matt to involve us in this encounter. It would’ve been fun just to watch, because Matt would have made it amazing and Ashley was sweating bullets, which is always fun to watch.” Sam notes he felt guilty, but Liam was going for the kill. Liam: “Matt’s gotta be careful about giving me that kind of story beat. I do not fucking care, I just fucking flip, I’m like, well, I’m going to destroy you, and I have no qualms about it. It’s too much fun!”

The Beau/Yasha tower date was in part inspired by not being able to give gifts as easily this last year. “This thing that we do together is a gift, but I love finding these moments, like the book for Jester and the tower for Yasha and for Beau. I really just wanted to give both of them a little magic for a night. I wanted them to leave this-- we’re trying to be as entertaining as possible, but shit is having an effect on all of us too, and I wanted them to have an escape, a great place to escape to.”

Fan Art of the Week: an amazing group shot, plus Marion, Yeza, and Luc! (vocaz on Twitter)

On choosing Essek over Trent, Liam: “It would have been so interesting and awful and great! Essek and Astrid and Eodwulf are everything that Bren used to be attracted to that are terrible for him. Essek, hopefully he can with time find a way out of the hole that he dug himself into, but it was only two months ago where he was found out and his ambitions came crashing down around him. Long-term, I have high hopes for him, but I think it’s going to be hard.” In contrast, Astrid and Eodwulf are still “deep in the shit. It would have been really hard to navigate, but fun to play at the table. We made the right choice with what we went with. Essek’s just getting started, and Caleb doesn’t trust him entirely, because he was burned so hard not too long ago. He’s still more trustworthy than the other three. So it’s the better choice. While Caleb has all these ties on the other side, they’re really fucking dangerous. So if you have to choose, you choose Essek. But fuck that die.” Sam: “Veth, much like Sam Riegel, makes instant decisions about whether to trust someone or not and sticks to it forever. Astrid, 100% trust. Eodwulf, 100% distrust. Essek, completely distrust. I still don’t think he’s a good guy. Ikithon? Trust. 100%. Because you know where he’s coming forward, you know what he wants. I still want him dead, but I trust him.”

On Veth’s post-adventuring plans: “Veth is probably still too in it right now to think about what comes next. I, Sam Riegel, have a good idea of what I want Veth to do post-campaign.” Brian: “Maybe you shouldn’t tell us. Save it for the show!” Sam: “All she knows is she can’t do this anymore. It’s very unhealthy to be battle-wounded every other day. It’s fun for a while, but college has to end at some point, and she’s gotta go home.”

On Frumpkin changing appearance and returning to the Feywild: “I don’t know what I’m going to do, but the way it feels now for Caleb is that he feels too enmeshed in everything that has happened, and too much good has happened, and too much needs to happened, that that really narcissistic, selfish goal has the risk of harming everything else, which is more important. And that’s how he looks at it now. So he’s gearing towards letting everything from the beginning of the campaign, and where he started, go, and trying to figure out what use he’s going to be now and what he’s going to do if they’re not all dead. If Matt throws that shit down, I don’t know what I will do, I think about it a lot. But turning Frumpkin white and saying you’re free either way is him preparing to let go of everything he’s been holding on to for a really long time. He’s addicted to that idea that he can fix himself, and we’ll see if that hard choice gets presented, what he might do. But where he stands now, he doesn’t think that’s going to be reality, and he sees a way that he can be of use that he never really anticipated before, so he’s slowly shifting gears towards living with the pain he was trying to remove.”

On the last request scene and confidence heading into Aeor, Sam: “I feel like that’s a good request. I think all of us realized that if we die, that probably bodes badly for the world. I feel like all of us are at a point now as characters and as friends, that the first order of business would be to take care of everybody else’s shit, although we probably have different ideas of how to do that.” Liam: “I want the Empire to be healed, Caleb has all these memories of his parents and what they wanted for the world, and he wants that too. It’s clearly not in place now, the system needs to be broken and replaced. That could be a part of Caleb’s sunset. I don’t want Caleb to die, so maybe he can work on that after. As everything starts to shake out and we start heading towards our destiny, Caleb’s just free-floating. He’s not even going after the same thing he started for. So he’s looking at Veth’s family, and Luc specifically, and seeing that’s me, that’s a little boy in the Empire.”

[thesunshinebunny]

Can you do an reaction of the 1 Years seeing Fem!Reader dating Leona, Floyd, Jade and Trey? (separate)

Of course I can sweety, thank you very much for your order. I hope you are well where you are, and that you are drinking a lot of water.

Leona

The first thing these mono neurals noticed was that, in most of the lunches, you disappeared without warning, only to return two minutes before the new start of classes.

Except for Jack ... you know, wolf nose, soshe knows when you were sleeping with Leona in the botanical garden or in his room.

He never said anything to respect your privacy and of his dorm leader.

One night, Grimm already in his fifth dream, you snuck out to Savannaclaw to spend a quiet evening with Leona under the moonlight and the cool, dry wind of the tropical climate.

But neither of you expected Grimm to wake up in the middle of your escape, follow you and see you from under the large window very… snuggled in Leona's arms.

Needless to say, this ball of hair went to tell two multicolored hair who share a single neuron.

Horrified on the spot.

Horrified even more when they found you lying in bed with Leona on your chest, having one of his many naps, while you were reading a book while stroking his hair.

The scream they let out as they entered the room could be compared to a newborn hyena… Ruggie stuck his head through the doorway.

Leona sent each and every intruder flying. He also ended up banning them from the dorm for two months.

Jack just looked at his friends with disappointment, not caring that they reprimanded him for not having said anything about this "relationship."

Foyd

I think the five freshmen's hearts stopped to see Floyd come running down the hall toward you, ending up slamming into you and giving you a hug, not as hard as his signature, but just as crushing.

At first, they thought they were watching your last moments of life. Seeing him give you a little kiss on the lips made them pull their soul out of their mouths.

Terrified 1000% of even getting close to you.

Don't take them wrong, Floyd and Jade are the most terrifying twins in all of NRC and considering how Ace and Deuce were treated when they worked under their command… yes, no thanks, that duo wants to live.

Jack was in overprotective wolf mode, giving you small talks: be careful, do not let yourself be manipulated, you are playing with fire, if you need us, let us know, etc, etc.

Ace gave thanks internally to see you at basketball games, even if it was to see Floyd ... but you were still going to see Ace, simply that now you cheer more louder, before you just watched in silence.

Grimm didn't want to be anywhere near Floyd, he just didn't. If you ever brought him into the dorm for the night, this furball would go to Heartslabyul or Savannaclaw.

Jade

The boys realized that several days you gave a few visits to the Monstro Lounge, you even stayed working for a couple of hours as a waitress and helped with the cleaning at the end of the day.

But from what they saw, you weren't having a bad time, they even treated you like a decent person ... very different from how ADeuce was treated at the time.

They fed you, spoke to you with respect, Jade kept you close enough in case you had a problem with a customer.

But it was at closing time, the boys waited for you behind the doors, when they stuck their heads to try to find you and let you know that they were waiting for you, when they saw Jade himself kiss you on the forehead.

The poor boys thought he was going to sink his teeth into you.

At first, Jack, Ace, and Deuce thought about interrupting the scene, but a murderous glare from Jade himself stopped them in their tracks.

From that day on, they are extremely careful to commit any inappropriate or overdone action for fear this eel will come out and tear them to shreds.

With their small neuron, they thought that they could use Jade's relationship with you to get a little profit, perhaps in a fight with other students or by uniting Azul to do them a favor.

Bad move.

In short, as long as you are okay with that huge eel, they are okay ... and scared. Please talk to your partner so they don't keep giving them that killer look.

Trey

What better way to find out that you are in a relationship with their vice leader, than to walk into the kitchen on a Friday night and find you both cuddling on the kitchen counter? Apart from being cooking, knows the great seven what.

So yeah. Ace and Deuce wanted to eat a piece of the strawberry cake that Trey had cooked a couple of hours ago and find that honeyed scene right before their eyes.

Epel, Sebek and Jack literally didn't care if you were dating Heartslabyul's chef… but if you happened to coerce him into giving you three extra lunch boxes, they would really appreciate it.

More than anything Sebek. He wouldn't give his face to ask him directly, so it's your job to be a carrier pigeon.

Epel even showed you an apple pie recipe to impress Trey. If you know how to cook, great; if not ... good luck XD.

While Trey is a master chef, some days the kitchen ends up being a disaster.

You may hear tease after tease from ADeuce for the first few days, but I assure you that would end soon.

Trey is a vice dorm leader, their vice dorm leader, they're playing with fire and they're really naive if they think it's not going to bring repercussions ... more if Trey ends up involving Riddle.

Riddle may not be that much aware of this relationship either, but nothing like a white lie to slaughter that pair of freshmen.

[bakugosbratx]

omg could you do a dark villain Shoto x fem reader smut?

NSFW 18+ The Pawn— AU Villian! Shoto Todoroki x Fem! Reader

Warning: 18+ content. Unprotected sexual intercourse, alternate universe, toxic relationship, stolkholm syndrome, fluff, angst, gaslighting, manipulation, kidnapping, murder of family, punishment, bdsm, power play, yandere tendencies, etc.

Words: 2,410

Check out my other works here

A/N: Thank you so much for your request! I am so sorry it took me forever to do it. But I hope it meets what you’re looking for. This is my first time writing for Shoto so I apologize in advance.

Tags: @awilddreamerwrites @peachsenpie @milkthistletea @quietlegends @idfkwtfgof

“Any last words?” Shoto questions with a demeaning scowl of disgust, his index finger becoming restless on the pistol’s trigger. The barrel of the gun is resting on the man’s temple while he pleads for mercy.

“I’ll have your money by next week, I swear!” The man cried.

“You said that last time. To be quite frank, I’m not really fond of your lying, Y/L/N.” Shoto admits, cocking the gun so it can fire. The terrified man’s eyes grew wide as tears stream down his face.

“Shoto,” his breath hitches, “p-please. I have a family to take care of. A wife and two children. Please.”

Horrific muffled screams filled the kitchen where your family reside as the gunshot went off. Blood leaked from your father’s bullet wound onto the floor beneath him. You all were forced to watch, tied up and helpless. Shoto even had his crew gag you so your words would not disturb his business meeting. He hates interruptions.

“Disgusting.” Shoto complains, referencing to some of the blood covering his face. Igniting his left side, he sets your father’s corpse on fire. The smell of burning flesh filled your snot filled nostrils as more whimpers escaped your cloth covered lips. This caught Shoto’s attention.

“You,” he calls out as he makes his way towards your tied up body. He picks you up with ease, throwing you over his muscular shoulder. “Are coming with me.”

Your muffled remarks were no use as well as your kicks. You are terrified and not sure why Shoto, Japan’s notorious killer, is doing in your household right now, but you know it’s not good.

“Sir,” one of the men stopped you two as Shoto is making his way towards the exit. He pauses his motion, waiting for the man’s question. “What do you want us to do with the other two? Heroes will be here any moment.”

Shoto pondered the man’s words for a moment. You are silently pleading that he will just let them go, but that was not even a thought in his mind. “Leave them be.”

“But sir—“

“The house will be burnt to ash in any given moment,” he activates his left side for emphasis, “if you want to stay alive, I suggest you gather up the others and get a move on.”

The man nodded and Shoto begins walking out of the house. You struggle in his grasp, but Shoto remains undisturbed by your antics. Throwing you into the back of a van, he slams the double doors. Now all you are left with is your thoughts.

This doesn’t seem real. It truly can’t be. Your family is being massacred and there is not a thing you can do about it. You can even hear their muzzled screams as your house goes up in flames. Still, you are useless as the van starts and drives far away from the crime scene.

Shoto Todoroki is Japan’s worse nightmare. Numerous accounts of murder, abuse of power, kidnapping, anything terrible had Shoto’s name on it. No one knows much about the villain’s personal life except for his heroic father with a bad temper. Some say it is his fault for the way his son turned out and Shoto would agree, but Shoto’s crimes will not be taken from him. No, they are all his doing and he is proud of it.

“Y/N,” Shoto called, making you snap out of your thoughts. You turn to meet the man that now claims you as his. “Are you alright, love? You hardly touched your food.”

“Oh, I’m fine.” You mumbled, giving a soft smile. Bringing the ramen noodle soup to your lips, you forced yourself to eat the food. Your stomach is in shambles as the thoughts from that night came back. There are still many unanswered questions and unknown puzzle pieces, but that is a life you need to forget about. You are Shoto’s now. You have no choice but to be his.

Shoto studied your features. If there is one thing Shoto is not is dumb. He is observant. Just one wrong look and you are in deep trouble. Considering you have been living with Shoto for over a year now, you have grown accustomed to his ways. You have learned to appease him in anyway to make you happy. Especially if it is going to keep you alive.

“You know I don’t appreciate when you lie to me.” Shoto nonchalantly reminds you, noticing how quickly you swallow when the words flow out off his tongue.

“I-I’m not lying, Shoto. Honestly.” You stammered, hoping he would not notice the fear trickling in your eyes. He did, though. Shoto noticed everything about you. One of the many things you despised about him.

The rest of super was ate in silence. As you have learned, this is never a good sign. When Shoto is quiet, he’s plotting. Usually, it’s your punishment. You can see it in his eyes and the subtle touches he does to you. All to make you feel uneasy. Just like he can read you, you are learning to read him just the same.

Once dinner was over, he gathered the dirty dinning wear and washed them. You remained in your chair until you are granted permission to stand up. Your heart is racing with anticipation. What is Shoto plotting? Especially for something as simple as lying.

“Y/N,” Shoto paused to make sure your attention was his. The hairs on the back of your neck are standing straight along with your body stiffening. You hear him walking towards you, his one cold hand and other warm one rest on your shoulders. “Go upstairs to our shared bedroom.”

“Y-Yes, Shoto.” You mumbled, scurrying up the steps like the good behave girl he taught you to be. If only your filthy little mouth could stop lying.

Shoto is quick to follow after your trembling body. His presence is swallowing you whole as he march up the stairs behind you. Your clammy palm turns the golden doorknob into the master bedroom. You immediately turn around, groping your butt in fear for what may happen to it.

Shoto shuts the door behind him, leaning against it with his arms folded. His face held its usual unamused look as he glares at you.

“I’m giving you one last chance to be honest with me, Y/N.”

“I-I have been honest a-all along, Shoto.” You argued. Shoto’s glare intensified.

“You were thinking about your family again, weren’t you?”

“What? No, I-“

“You’re just like your father.” Shoto scornfully chuckled, strolling towards you. His right hand folded around your neck, giving it a nice squeeze as he whispered in your ear, “and you know how much I truly despise your father.”

His hot breath seemed to linger on the shell of your ear. Your eyes harden as they meet his. His icy hand seemed to make this choking experience even worse. You would get frostbite if it gets any colder, but something in you snapped. You have not fought back in months. You became the submissive girl Shoto desperately wanted you to be yet you are still in the same position as many times before.

“You’re one to talk.” You choked out. The hold on your neck became stronger, circulation being lost to your organs. You are pushed onto the bed, Shoto’s muscular form on top of you.

“Don’t you ever compare me to that monster again, understand me?” Shoto growls as he watch you struggle beneath him. You started to turn pale as your body loses its natural color from lack of air flow. His hatred from his father and yours is taking over as you slowly start to become unconscious. He finally lets go.

You cough, grasping for air. It felt like there was not enough in there to supply your deprived body. Especially with Shoto’s suffocating presence on top of you.

“You have some real nerve talking to me like that, Y/N. When will you learn that your family is the true bad guys in the situation, not me. They screwed me over and I came for what they owed me. You’re just a pawn.”

“You’re lying..” You mumbled out in disbelief. Shoto’s devious grin just grew wider at the tears in your eyes.

“I’m not like your father.” Shoto spats, venom dripping from every wretched word. Your heart is aching and this only fuels the fire.

“Fuck you.” You hissed, warm tears streaming down your face. Shoto only chuckled at your mere offense.

“I plan on it.”

Your look of disgust was ignored as Shoto’s lips trailed from your neck to your lips. You forced yourself to kiss back. You always do. You two had sex plenty of times and sadly, you enjoyed it, but when it’s used for punishment or after he has tears down any sheer ounce of self esteem you possessed it is quite difficult to get in the mood.

“Why do you keep me here?” You finally breathe out as your lips disconnect. Shoto furrowed his eyebrows together.

“Because your family is dead.”

“I know that!” You exclaimed. Shoto is very intelligent, but someone who is also literal. He does not always catch onto what you’re actually trying to ask. “I mean, if I’m just some pawn, why keep me here? Why not let me have the same fate as my family?”

Shoto stayed silent. He pondered how he should answer this. He just started touching you outside of the bedroom a couple months ago. It even took him a long time to have sexual intercourse with you. He knows he could have killed you off. He is sure of it. You have been a pain in his ass since he collected you for payment yet you’re still here.

“I don’t know.” Shoto answered, truthfully.

You sigh. You are not sure what answer you were expecting, but knowing where this is leading does not make you feel any better about yourself. You just feel more used.

Silence over fell you two. Shoto is in deep thought as so are you. You are worried that your days are numbered now, but Shoto was not even thinking about that. He is more thinking of himself and how he can’t murder you. He actually likes having you around. He may never say it and his facial features will never show it, but with you by his side, his frozen heart starts to thaw. Just by your simple glimpses and touches.

Part of him hated you for that.

“Shoto,” you whisper, catching his attention. You made yourself look away. You have so many conflicting thoughts. Shoto is all you have now and in all honesty, you have grown not to hate the guy. You love the soft touches and the way he keeps you warm at night. He is so observant of the slightest of things. That’s more than your family has ever given you.

Your right hand cupped his cheek. He seemed slightly tense by the action, but he instantly fell into your touch. Your thumb grazed his cheek.

“I-I,” you meet his gaze, “I enjoy your company.” You admit. Shoto kept silent, but your words meant something to him. You both are not good with this kind of stuff. You were never taught it. This is the closest thing you two will ever get to ‘I love you.’

Your lips connected once again. During the process, each one of your articles of clothing was discarded to the ground below. Shoto kissed down your exposed breast, stomach, and finally stopped at your pussy. He swiped his tongue between your folds sending chills down your spine along with needy moans escaping your parted lips.

“Shoto, please.“ You whined, wanting him to make you soaked already, but you are on Shoto’s terms. He gets to decide everything.

Luckily, he did not make you wait long as tongue swirled on your sensitive clit. Your legs rested on his shoulders as he devoured you. Small groans is all Shoto could do as his tongue explored every inch of your pussy. Not a spot was missed nor would he allow there to be. Your clit was being the most spoiled. Your entrance was then meet shortly after. You did your best to conceal your sweet melodies of pleasure, but Shoto is not allowing you to do so.

“You have a voice for a reason. Use it.” He orders in a low growl amongst your cunt.

“Shoto,” you sob, “I’m about to cum. Please.”

You arched your back as your cunt was about to release. Shoto sped up the pace, helping you meet your climax even sooner. On que, you sing sweet little melodies of moans as you release into the man’s mouth. Every drop was swallowed by him.

Shoto stood up, grabbing your hips to pull you closer to the edge of the bed. “Keep your eyes on me at all times. Understood?”

You nod, eagerly. “Yes, Shoto.”

Shoto aligned his erection with your weeping entrance. Shortly after, your walls are hugging his length as it dives deeper and deeper into you. Each thrust loosened you even more and he kept a steady pace. You gripped the expensive European satin bedsheets as you babbled incoherent words and phrases. You kept your eyes locked on Shoto the whole time just like he ordered.

“Shoto.” You finally moan aloud as his dick is inside of you.

“Yeah, you like that, baby?” He groans. Your crying cunt was dripping with your slick onto the fabric of the bed and on Shoto’s cock.

“Yes.” You manage to blurt out as you gasp for more. His cock felt amazing no matter how much you wanted to hate him for it. This is one of the ways he shows affection. You learned to accept that.

Shoto’s hands find their way to your bouncing titties. The difference between temperatures sent your body into overdrive. He loved seeing the lewd faces you make as he used his power to pleasure you. Shoto’s dick did not stop thrusting into you through this process either though it is twitching.

Pre-cum leaks into your cunt. Shoto removes his hands from your breast as he picks up the pace. His knees start to buckle beneath him as cum flows from his cock. Every drop is milked from him until he pulls outs.

This is his way of saying ‘I love you.’

©bakugosbratx

All Rights Reserved

[bubbleteaimagines]

You Can Rest Now

Levi Ackerman Oneshot

Summary: People often wonder why Levi’s so cold. For a man that’s lost everything, it’s not so hard to see

Pairings: Levi Ackerman x Reader

Warnings: Ansgt, gore, death

Authors Note: I got this idea suddenly and decided to break my heart

there was speculation. there was always speculation, but none more about levi ackerman.

the short man had a notorious reputation. he was cruel, nonchalant and just generally didn’t seem to care.

he was different. cold. so cold in fact, that death didn’t even seem to faze him. he could watch someone die and be fine the next minute.

but was he? it seemed so.

all the recruits admired his bravery and strength, but they feared his attitude.

what had made him so cold, exactly? so...closed up? who or what had turned his heart into stone, causing him to shut out the world around him so easily?

how did he do it?

why did he do it?

what had caused him to snap?

it was simple, really. levi had made a mistake. long ago, when he was foolish enough to still believe in love and happiness in this retched world. long ago before he realized that love made you weak, he make the mistake of loving someone in this cruel, cruel, world.

-

flashback —

“shit! y/n, they’re gaining on us!”

after three years in the survey corps, you could safely say that those words were anything but a good sign. scratch that, those words were the worst thing to hear out in the field. an omen of death, if you will, but you tried not to think about that as you furrowed your eyebrows and gripped your horse’s reigns tightly.

“how close?” you made the mistake of asking your comrade. a lump grew in your throat as you guys trekked across empty land. no trees, no buildings, absolutely nowhere to even think about using your 3dmg gear.

“i...,” he was at a loss of words. neither of you dared to look back, so he had to go off of the thumping footsteps that were getting closer and closer. “i reckon in the next minute or so they’ll be...”

“got it,” you pursed your lips together, not wanting him to finish that sentence. you knew what was coming. you both did. the very ground beneath you shook due to the titan’s footsteps. the monsters that you had been battling your whole damn life. “you ready to kick some ass, then?”

“always.” his voice was weak, his hands trembling as he reached for his swords. but his spirit had not yet been broken. neither had yours.

the footsteps were getting closer.

“i say we stay in rank but finish this thing off. then we’ll speed up and catch the others in case some more come,” you told him

anxiety pooled in your stomach as you thought about the rest of the soldiers. wrong place, wrong time, you knew that. but you couldn’t help it — your mind flashed images of him and you couldn’t help but feel scared for him, wondering if he had made it back to the wall safe or if he was still stuck on the ground, like you.

levi was a much better fighter than you. he was fast, efficient, and a valuable fighter. humanity needed him, and he had to be kept safe to fight another day.

that was the only reason you guys had been split up. he was on the special forces team, you weren’t. a damn good soldier you were but you were needed on the outer side of the formation, you were needed to protect levi.

after two years, he still hated the idea of you risking your life to protect him. he had fought tooth and nail with you and just about everybody else to keep you safe, to keep you next to him at all times. but commander erwin wouldn’t allow it. he couldn’t, levi was needed to save humanity. you weren’t.

you guys had had this argument time and time again. and time after time, you had reassured him that you would make it back. that he would always find your tired but yet still smiling face waiting for him on top of the walls.

why should this time be any different?

“let’s move!”

before you could even think, you had a ten meter titan lunging at you causing you to yelp and yank your horse out of the way. the beast whined in terror, it’s fear possibly rivaling your own. unfortunately though, that didn’t cause it to go any faster. you were gonna be forced to take it down yourself — you wouldn’t be able to outrun it all the way back to the wall.

“y/n!” your comrade yelled as you were swiped at again. this time though, you stood up on your horse and launched yourself at the titan, your gear lodging itself in it’s shoulders.

“keep moving! i’ll take care of this!” you yelled out to him.

letting out an angry cry, you whipped around the creature at astonishing speeds and aimed straight at the back of it’s neck.

a routine kill, that’s all this was.

fire danced behind your eyes while the creature moaned and swatted it’s hands at you. 36, that was your number of solo kills. and soon, it was 37.

“take that you fat bastard,” you yelled and sliced it right in the weak spot, never missing a beat as you carved up the flesh. blood splattered everywhere from the fatal wound and steamed as it got on your face and clothes. the titan went limp, and soon you propelled yourself back to the ground and back on your horse.

“well, looks like petra and me are tied. can’t wait to tell her,” you grinned as you carried on riding, your partner sighing in relief.

“you really are one of the best, you know that? you totally just saved our asses,” he grinned back at you.

“yeah, and you’d do well not to forget it,” you chuckled. “next time there’s cake, i want-”

“Y/N LOOK OUT!”

there was a scream, and then there was a sudden pressure as an abnormal came leaping out of nowhere and hit you dead on.

you didn’t have time to react. you barely even had time to scream before everything went to shit, your horse flying away from you and you — oh god. your comrade screamed as you flew through the air, and appeared again only as you were clutched in the titan’s mouth.

“w-what?” you couldn’t move. your vision was blurry from the hit but what you could feel was it’s breath. blindingly hot, and rancid. you had a first row seat as you hung from the monster’s jaws, everything from your waist and below clutched tightly in it’s teeth.

“y/n, no!” the strangled cry of your fellow comrade was all too familiar. it was a helpless cry, one you had heard many times from many different people. it was a cry of death, a cry of sorrow if you will. it was the type of sound people made when they were face to face with death.

“son of bitch,” you moaned as you lifted your head up, your (e/c) eyes meeting the bright blue ones of the titan. “you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

of all the ways to die, of all the times and situations, this just had to be it. with your luck, you were gonna be split in half by the ugliest goddamn titan you had ever seen.

“fuck me.”

dread pooled in your stomach.

as you stared down your killer, as you stared down death itself, only one thought crossed your mind.

“c-comrade,” you glared as the titan opened it’s mouth to devour you. “g-get out of here! you don’t need to see this!”

“y/n no! i’m coming!” he desperately clung to his gear, standing on his horse and preparing to take down the monster that was gonna kill his teammate. he couldn’t let that happen. he wouldn’t.

but you weren’t gonna let him die either. not whilst you were still alive.

“comrade! i said go! i’m the leader of this team so that’s an order!” you screamed at the solider causing him to freeze in place.

“no,” he whispered, watching as the monster’s jaws came down.

it was as if it were in slow motion. the universe dragging it out just so he could witness every detail. the moment you screamed profanities at the titan, promising that you’d see it in hell one day. the moment you ripped off your cape, letting one last piece of you remain on this earth. the moment you screamed for levi, yelling one last time how much you loved him.

the moment the titan’s jaws finally came down, cutting you in half.

everything stood still after that. time stopped completely, and your comrade couldn’t even scream, couldn’t even cry out for you as your eyes finally fluttered closed and your body went limp.

you were gone.

-

levi paced anxiously as he stood on top of wall maria. he had his hands behind his back, but his eyes were on full alert, searching the terrain in front of him for any signs of life.

for any signs of you.

levi didn’t understand. it had been well past an hour, and everyone had made it back except for your squad.

it wasn’t even a squad, really. just two people — so how could two people possibly be taking this long?

“captain, you should calm down. i’m sure y/n is gonna be fine,” petra placed a gentle hand on his shoulder but it did nothing to sooth levi.

“if they were fine they’d be back by now,” he snapped, his eyes darkening.

he didn’t want to admit it but levi was starting to lose hope. being gone for this long usually only meant one thing — but he refused to think about that. he refused to even let the thought cross his mind, shoving it so far back it was practically non existent. levi couldn’t think like that. he wouldn’t.

because it was no question whether you were okay or not. you had to be, there were no other options. no other scenarios other than you coming back alive and safe.

“captain—”

“silence!”

levi strained his ears as he heard hooves in the distance. he perked up.

it was the sound of a horse, most definitely. in fact, it was the sound of two horses, and in the distance he could see them galloping towards the wall, a titan right behind them and the lone rider.

levi’s heart swelled with hope.

“y/n!”

he was breathless as he ran towards the edge of the wall, igorning his fellow soldiers protests. extracting his swords, he quickly cascaded down the wall towards the person, hoping beyond hope that it was you.

commander erwin held out a hand to stop anyone from following him.

“don’t,” he warned, seeing how levi’s squad was gearing up. “this one’s for him.”

levi had never felt more eager in his life to escape into titan territory. quickly, he flew towards the rider and practically tackled them as he reached them.

“y/n, you—”

levi stopped dead in his tracks. confused, he tilted his head as he saw the grief-stricken face of your partner, but not you. in fact, you were nowhere in sight as the titan’s footsteps got louder.

“soldier, you had someone with you, yes? where is y/n?” levi demanded, completely ignoring the haunted and agonized expression of the solider.

“c-captain...i...,” how did he get the words out? how did your comrade look his captain in the eyes and tell him that you were gone — lost to the titan on a simple mission.

“well? we don’t have all pissant. spit it out,” levi snapped, becoming irritated at the lack of response.

where were you? if you hadn’t come back with your partner, then where the hell where you?

the soilder’s mouth moved but levi barely heard anything he said.

perhaps it was because he wasn’t standing close enough. or perhaps the titan’s thunderous footsteps drowned it out. or perhaps...it was because levi heard something he didn’t want to hear.

“dead?” levi tilted his head as if it were a foreign word. as if he had never heard the word before, when in reality it was probably the most used word in his vocabulary. “what do you mean y/n is...dead?”

the pieces didn’t fit. the word ‘dead’ and ‘you’ were apart of two completely different puzzles; they didn’t fit together. it was too wrong, too confusing for levi’s brain to pick up.

“t-they’re gone, sir,” the solider spit out painfully, letting out a wail. “w-we were on flat ground...the titan came out of nowhere...the abnormal...”

“shut up,” levi held his hand up as the pieces began to mold themselves. slowly, they transformed to fit each other.

“i-i’m sorry sir,” the soldier stammered, “t-they’re gone. they left this behind...but their body—”

“I SAID SHUT UP!” levi growled as anger began to flow through him, his fists twitching. the solider flinched back as levi’s death glare settled on him, burning holes through his skull.

“where do you get off on this? HUH?” levi yelled as he grabbed the man roughly, yanking him off of is horse. the beast whined in fear as the titan approached, but levi ignored it. instead, he focused on the red spots in his vision, pushing away the pain. pushing away the imagery that followed the solider’s words. all that was left of you was a cape...

“i’ll have you executed for this you bastard! you lying piece of shit—”

“CAPTAIN LEVI!” levi’s attention was diverted as commander erwin yelled out his name. briefly, he turned his attention to the wall where his fellow comrades and commander stood, horrified, “YOU HAVE A SITUATION!”

levi tore his gaze away from erwin and glanced over his shoulder. fast approaching was the titan that had followed the solider to the wall. an abnormal by the looks of it, with blood splattered all over it’s mouth.

levi felt his heart stop.

in the moment, it suddenly became real. he glanced at the solider’s terrified face, the cape in his arms that had your initials printed on it, and then back at the titan.

everything hit him at once.

and levi snapped.

“YOU BASTARD!”

he retracted his blades, squared his shoulders, and then zoomed off to battle the titan that that had murdered you. the love of his life.

levi saw red as an animalistic scream left him, his entire vision clouded with crimson as he made his target and slashed. levi slashed until there was nothing more to slash, the titan long dead and already dissolving by the time he was done.

“YOU ASSHOLE! YOU TOOK THEM! YOU FUCKING BASTARD!”

“CAPTAIN! soldier, you need to restrain him and get back over the wall, NOW!” commander erwin shouted.

more titan’s were approaching. too many people were standing by the walls. too much prey.

but levi didn’t care. he was angry, hurt, and beyond the levels of revenge. his blades were stained with the blood of your murderer. he wouldn’t be able to rest if he didn’t end them all, right then and there.

“CAPTAIN LEVI! WE NEED TO GO!”

levi ignored the solider’s plea and stood his ground, hatred burning behind his eyes. he’d kill them, he’d kill every last one of them for what they did to you. his life be damned.

in that moment, it didn’t matter that humanity needed him.

he needed to avenge you.

“FALL BACK! DO NOT ENGAGE! I REPEAT, DO NOT ENGAGE! EVERYBODY STAND BACK!”

levi braced himself for the attack. he was running on pure hatred now.

he was dangerous when he was calm. but he was unstoppable when he was deadset on getting revenge for the one person he had left to care about.

“holy shit—”

“no way—”

“did he just?—”

all around levi was blood. crimson red soaked him to the bone, pouring over every inch of his body. it rained on him, like a sadistic waterfall carved out by levi’s sword.

but it wasn’t his.

none of it, not a single drop of the blood was his.

levi sheathed his now broken swords and leaned down to retrieve the only thing not soaked with titan blood. the only thing that wasn’t stained or reminded him of their treacherous, godforsaken existence.

“i did it,” he whispered, clutching your cape tightly. he held the fabric in his trembling hands, holding it over his heart as a way to hold you close— one last time.

“i killed that thing. you can rest now.”

[capricorn-stark]

Protégé

pairing: red hood!jason todd x robin!reader, slow burn 

warning: swearing

a/n: for context, this is somewhat loosely based off of Battle for the Cowl (2009) which I definitely recommend as a read! 

There was something about falling that you would never, ever get tired of. 

Ever. 

Probably.

With the wind whistling in your ears, your hair floating up in a million directions, and your limbs seemingly weightless as the buildings and lights blurred into one endless streak of color, the rush of adrenaline that ran through your body right before your grappling hook shot out and you landed quietly on the concrete was about a million times better than any sparring session back at the cave. 

You grinned as you straightened, rather proud of the fact that you had actually managed to land so smoothly without nearly paralyzing yourself. Again.The landing was something you had been working on for a while now.

You could practically hear Bruce’s voice ringing through your head after your little stunt, lamenting on and on about how you had more important things to focus on during patrols, and you let out a sigh as you ran down the backway of the nearly empty streets. 

The heavy man who had been bound up with a decently made gag and one of Bruce’s fancy tech pieces (Batcuffs, maybe? Something else with Bat smacked in front of it?) grunted beside you. 

“What? Not like you had someplace to be.” You grabbed the back of his rather tacky-looking spandex suit to drag him along back to where your mentor was supposed to be.

Despite your (many) disagreements and his (many) criticisms of your hand-to-hand combat skills, attitude issues, and pretty much everything else relating to you, Bruce had actually still allowed you to go off on your own tonight. It might’ve been because he wanted a few hours of nothing but beating up petty criminals by himself for stress-relief, it might’ve been because he had started trying out that whole independence thing with you a little more (even though you were still only permitted to be about five blocks or so away), it might’ve been plot-convenience - but either way, you appreciated the gesture.

It didn’t take long for you to pull your new friend over to what should’ve been your rendezvous point with Batman, letting the man drop with a dull thud and a grunt of protest against the concrete as you glanced around for the other man. You weren’t particularly concerned by the fact that the Bat himself wasn’t there yet - after all, he was the goddamn Batman. He’d show up eventually. In the meanwhile, you decided to go over the information you had gotten on the criminal with you. 

Just for the sake of it. Bruce would make you go over it anyways.

“Drury Walker, thirty-two years old, found him trying to mug someone in a back alley and make an escape. Called himself…” you paused, looking down at his sorry-looking outfit for a few moments while he looked up at you with murder and vengence in his eyes. “...Killer Moth.”  

“Killer Moth?” A completely new voice repeated in disbelief, causing you to immediately whirl around to face them in a fight stance, heart racing at a million miles per hour. The guy in front of you had his hands up in the air, his face concealed with some sort of red knock-off Iron Man helmet. He was gonna get copyrighted by Marvel Studios. “Shit, sorry,” he started at the sight of you, still leaning up against one of the walls. “I was supposed to make a wholeass dramatic entrance, but you said his name was Killer Moth and that-” The man made a noise that was either a sharp cough or a laugh of some kind. “-sounded so fucking lame I couldn’t help myself.” 

Despite the fact that you were definitely in some sort of major trouble with this new guy, he really did have a point. Even Killer Moth himself would’ve been embarrassed by how trash his name was, if not for the fact that he looked like he was on the verge of an aneurysm - understandably so, since the new guy had produced not one, but two guns out of apparently nowhere. 

“And let me guess,” he continued, pointing one of them at your head, his tone still all-too light and easy. “You must be the Bat’s brand-new Robin.” 

Now this is where most people would've shut up and proceeded to be complicit with the dude holding two guns. But Batman hadn’t seen reason and made you his (sort of) partner because you were like other people. Hell no.

“Do I look like a traffic signal to you?” It had been the very first of your amendments with Bruce. You would not be fighting crime looking like a literal traffic signal or, at best, a clown from Haly’s Circus. And the tiny green shorts had to go. “Or Robin Hood?” The guy had a rather awkward pause where his gun sort of dipped. Killer Moth was looking between you with wide eyes. “Do I?” 

“I guess you kinda got a point.” You huffed and he raised his gun again, getting more in-your-face as his already angry-looking helmet somehow managed to look angrier. You weren’t exactly sure how a helmet could convey so much emotion. “But you work with Batman. And I heard you went by Robin.” 

Okay, so you couldn’t make him change the name, but you had agreed it would be more of an honorary thing.

“It’s complicated.” 

Using such a phrase as an excuse to escape from situations you didn’t want to go into was one of the many things you had learned from Bruce in your five months of training. Somehow, that seemed to trigger the guy further.

“So you do work with Batman.” 

Before he could do something actually insane, you had managed to push the gun pointed at your head away from you, using his brief second of surprise to take it out of his hands, kick him in the chest, and round back on him with it in hand. 

“And what about it?” 

As cool as you thought you might’ve sounded didn’t cover for the fact that you were still nerve-wracked about what was happening right then. Especially after the guy started to dramatically slow-clap like some sort of evil thespian in a high school drama. 

“Not bad, Robin. Not bad.” He looked at the gun in your hands and grinned. “If you weren’t Batman’s new replacement sidekick, I might’ve believed you had the balls to use that thing.” 

Now, you were an excellent fighter. You had to be, after your excessive training with the guy who had literally mastered about every martial art in existence during his (give or take) five year-long mission to find himself. Plus, some personal experience. But fighting someone like this guy? Built like a tank and padded up in a whole lot of armor and packing an assortment of knives, guns, and even a damn taser you got a first-hand taste of?

You fought hard, but about five minutes and another round of the taser later, you saw the knock-off Iron Man helmet staring down at you before the world went black.

~*~

You woke up in what you assumed was the self-dubbed Red Hood’s safehouse of sorts. 

“How the hell did he rope you into this shit?” he demanded with what you could only assume was him glaring at you through the helmet. Probably some expression that made someone look all angsty and annoyed - which was fair, since he had been trying to drill you for information you straight up refused to give while bound (way too tightly) to a chair for quite some time now. Rather rude. “Let me guess. You watched your parents die.” You stared at him before shrugging.

“Nope.”

“Oh, so they just went ahead and died somehow. Untimely accident caused by some psycho bitch in a Spirit Halloween costume.”

“…nope.” 

“They abandoned you as a child.”

“No, they didn’t - does divorce count?” 

Red Hoodlum’s hands kept clenching and unclenching while he stood there, staring at the wall behind you in silence. From the way his chest kept rising and falling, you were tempted to believe he was practicing breathing exercises amidst his rather violent twitching. 

“Divorce - what the hell is your trauma supposed to be? Why did he pick you?!”

“Hey, just because my trauma doesn’t include people dying doesn’t make it any less traumatic,” you scoffed in response, knowing you were absolutely right about that. Your middle school guidance counselor had said so (and it’s true, ladies and gentlemen, trauma comes in many forms!). “Kinda rude to assume it didn’t affect me somehow.”

He seemed rather abashed at that and you heard him clear his throat a little. 

“...right, yeah. Sorry.”

“Apology accepted - can you loosen these ropes a little? It’s starting to kinda hurt.” 

“Do I look ten? That’s the oldest trick in the book, I’m not gonna-”

“I’m not going to run, just loosen the ropes a little.” He still looked like he didn’t believe you. “Come on, I don’t think I can outrun your guns.” As in his literal array of guns tacked up to the wall behind him, not his gigantic biceps. 

And you weren’t too worried about being held hostage by him, either. You figured you had ten minutes tops before Batman burst in through the doorway, ready to give you a lecture on why straying from the specifically designated parts of Gotham he had let you traipse around was a terribly stupid idea. 

“No.” He was already walking towards the door, because apparently, he had enough of trying to interrogate you. 

“Hold on, I feel like my wrists are actually about to start bleeding or something - where are you going?”

“Keep talking and I’m gonna get the duct tape.” 

“Is that a threat?” Sounding more confident than you actually felt should eventually make you more confident. Eventually. 

The Red Hood sucked in a breath, stopping by the doorway and turning to face you, reaching into his pockets to get what you assumed was either a gun or duct tape when you both startled from a sudden crash. The man in front of you was already whirling around with two guns positioned to shoot when you heard the familiar voice of someone else.

“Hold your fire, soldier. I’m not here for you.” A pause. “Or I wasn’t, but now I kind of am.”

Apparently, Batman was too busy to save you. Now, you got Nightwing. 

And as much as you liked Nightwing, that still kinda stung. 

[oliviayamaoka]

The Distraction Continuation (Ghostface / Jed Olsen / Danny Johnson x Reader)

As requested, this is a continuation of the Distraction fic I made. Check out the first fic if you haven’t already. Enjoy! :)

You sighed deeply as you crossed your arms, shutting your eyes in slight annoyance at what was to come. Another trial. You hadn’t been in one for a while but your break was rather short-lived. There were three others that stood by your side. Ace Visconti, David King, and Yui Kimura. You respected them and actually enjoyed their company. Ace was funny, David taught you a couple of things, and Yui was always nice to you, encouraging you.

“Where do you think we’ll go this time?” Yui asked you, nudging your elbow with her own. You instantly lit up. Human interaction was comforting.

“Haven’t been to Hawkins or Glenvale in a bit.” Y/N replied with a slight shrug.

“My bet is the asylum.” Ace interrupted, pointing finger guns with that stupid smirk of his. Yui rolled her eyes, she didn’t seem to like Ace very much. Not since he flirted with her one time, even if it was jokingly.

“We might actually be there if Ace himself says so.” David said as the familiar gust of air surrounded the four of you.

You shut your eyes tightly, getting chills from the cold fog and air. The smell of fire and spring overcame you. Y/N opened their eyes, realizing that Ace’s bet was right. As always. A small laugh escaped your lips, a feeling of enjoyment before all hell could break loose again. 

Your gaze averted to the familiar structure of the Crotus Prenn Asylum. A sound played in your head, the screech of the Nurse. You were always curious about her but never got the chance to even talk to her unlike... no, it was one time. You weren’t gonna go around and try talk to killers like you did with him.

You put your palm to your forehead, cringing at the memory. Not in a bad way but maybe you could’ve done something differently. No, not really. Jed was a psychopath, a murderer. He was charming in a fucked up sort of way. You sighed as you walked towards a generator behind the grey brick walls.

There wasn’t any indication that it was the Pig or Freddy, thankfully. You began to work on the generator. Your thoughts turned to the fear of being hooked, stabbed, and hurt. You shuddered at the thought of it, the feeling of the hook would probably never leave you. Death was forever here, unfortunately. Elodie and Felix’s conversation had given you hope, maybe there was a way out of here.

“Shit.” You mumble as you shielded your eyes from the small explosion. 

Y/N huffed. You felt slightly disappointed in yourself and began again. Your head perked up as you heard stomping. It wasn’t loud enough to be the Oni or Trapper.

You kept a head on the generator as you noticed a dark figure stomping towards you. You needed a moment to process the situation. It was Ghostface? Oh shit, it was him, you thought. Flashbacks of your last encounter played in your head, he was definitely pissed off and you couldn’t blame it at this point.

“Don’t fucking try it.” He muttered in reference to you breaking into a sprint.

You felt panic wash over you as you quickly observed your surroundings. There weren’t any nearby pallets or vaults, it was a random open area near a hill with a chest and hook. Perfect, just perfect. Ghostface was quicker than usual, he grabbed you by the waist aggressively to tackle you down.

Ghostface held a knife to the back of your head once you hit the ground. You grunted as he put down all his weight onto you and assured that you wouldn’t be able to escape. The ground felt so uncomfortable, especially against your face. There was a few moments of you struggling beneath him to escape but it became no use. You stopped struggling after he pressed the blade against your skin.

“Didn’t bring a toolbox this time, Y/N?” He asked mockingly, pressing his gloved finger over the small slit. You winced at the stinging sensation but it was nothing you couldn’t handle.

“You know how to hold a grudge, Jed.” You replied. You were utterly terrified yet you always felt the need to reply to his stupid remarks.

“Indeed I do.” He replied, grabbing you and making you stand up. He held the knife to your back and pressed it slightly.

Ghostface was actually angry. He didn’t seem to mind actually hurting you or pressing the knife into your skin. You gasped at the painful sensation as he looked around, he saw the killer shack. He held a tight grip on your shoulder as he forced you to walk that way.

You instantly knew where he wanted to go. You just hoped the basement wasn’t there. Of course, you had known that this day would eventually come. But, why now? It was such awful timing, especially with the blue mood you had. Once the two of you reached the shack, he shoved you onto the ground aggressively.

“You’re pathetic... talking and talking last time we met. Now, you’re just a shitty excuse for a survivor.” He said to you. You scoffed.

“If it helps, Jed, I’m sorry.” Y/N replied. Your hand reached to the back of your neck where he had cut you. There wasn’t much blood but it still hurt. You stared at your bloodied fingertips as the man got more infuriated.

“You don’t get to call me that. And why the fuck are you apologizing?” He questioned you. His tone was venomous, this terrified you but him killing you was inevitable and well... you wanted to see him, anyways.

“If you didn’t care, you’d have hooked me now. I must’ve really hurt your feelings, huh?” You said, half-jokingly but you were also genuine.

“I don’t care.” He replied to you almost instantly. You knew that was a lie.

“Then why won’t you hook me? You could’ve slashed my back open but instead you pinned me to the ground... weirdo.” You mumbled.

He fell silent for a second. Ghostface was a bit baffled by you. Why weren’t you begging for your life? The version he remembered of you was different, or maybe he killed too many survivors that would beg. Not only that but he planned this out thoroughly. He was practically counting on you to scream and beg for your life. Ghostface had even made an offering for this realm because he researched it extensively, as he did with most of his previous murders.

Despite what he may have thought, Y/N was absolutely terrified. However, there was a strange feeling of attraction to him. Not necessarily a crush just yet but there was also a rivalry in which you felt comfortable talking to him. He felt like a real person. Well, of course he was a real person but you had no trouble making shitty remarks to him.

“I want this to last because you were being a little bitch last time. I’ve been dying to slice you open and make you regret that stupid little stunt you pulled.” He said to you.

You sat up, bringing one knee to your chest casually. There was a feeling of bravery that washed over you like last time. Y/N sighed deeply and looked around the shack. It was a basic shake. No totem, no gen.

“Yeah, sure... then do it.” You said to him.

“You’re not making this any easier.” He replied, more annoyed with you.

“Nothing you do is gonna make me regret what I did. Even if you do kill me and make me suffer, I’m still gonna come back alive. I’ve been puked on, trapped, and even had some weird ass trap put onto my head.” You said, standing up and pointing your finger to his chest.

“But you, Danny, only have a knife. I know the Legion or whatever their names are can use that better than you. You’re just a weirdo with a mask.” Y/N finished.

Ghostface seemed rather stunned, yet offended. Mainly because he couldn’t doubt anything you said. It became known that the Legion studied the human anatomy extensively, more than Danny ever cared to do. His area of expertise was stalking and memorizing a person’s schedule. But still. his ego was always bigger than any logic. The cloaked man grabbed your wrist. He oddly didn’t grab it too tight, he lifted your arm over your head.

“And what does that make you? I’m still better than you to some degree. You’re trapped here because the Entity thinks you deserve it and I get to kill anybody I desire.” He said, the tip of his blade poking your stomach.

“I guess we’re both shitty people.” You shrugged as his grip somewhat loosened. He sighed deeply before throwing you towards the generator.

“I had hoped killing you would be satisfying.” He muttered, bitter that your reaction wasn’t what he imagined. You fixed your shirt slightly and leaned against the generator. A part of slowly began to accept the growing crush you developed on the strange murderer, you didn’t care at this point since you were damned to an eternity of trials. 

“It probably would’ve been if you weren’t so easy to talk to.” You said to him as he snapped his head towards you, confused for a moment. Easy to talk to? He scoffed in response.

“Easy? You’re the fucking weirdo here.” He said, with a bit of a defeated tone.

“You’re no ladykiller, Danny, but... I’m charmed. I guess it’s something killers like you do though.” You said to him.

“I don’t charm or seduce people. I watch them.” He corrected you.

“Explains a lot.” You said, looking at your nails. Ghostface was quick to give into his ego and crossed his arms in a very stubborn manner.

“Actually, I did. As Jed Olsen, anyways. People were so trusting of him and neglected to suspect the new guy in town. It made it easy to watch people and I had a lot of excuses to spend hours doing so.” He said to you.

“Jed sounds nice.” Y/N shrugged.

“Well, Jed isn’t real, babe. He’s a shitty facade of what people like in a person. Made it so much easier for myself.” Ghostface said.

“Okay then,.. what did you do? As a career?” You asked him.

“I was a journalist and wrote for the Roseville Gazette. They made me cover my own killings and I did a good job doing so. Nobody could really understand my work though, no matter how much I tried to when I was Jed.” He said, a proud tone in his voice as he spoke. You were weirded out and cautious but you wanted to try and understand him.

“So, is that why you do it? For art?” You asked him as his head perked.

“That’s exactly why! There’s something very beautiful about the redness unique to somebody pouring out of them, even mixing with others. Not only that but just toying around and seeing how loud one can scream. Each scream is so unique and different. And just like art, you can fix your mistakes if it isn’t done right.” He explained, he seemed more relaxed. 

“Fix? But wouldn’t they be dead?” You asked him, genuinely confused. 

“You have to be an expert craftsman to fix it. A scream is a delicacy, something I choose not to indulge myself in often. Y’know, don’t want anybody hearing what goes on. When I do want to hear the screaming, it’s usually when my target has piqued my interest or mildly annoyed me. It feels rewarding after going through all the effort to memorize their lifestyle.” He said.

“A weird but cool way of looking at it, I suppose.” Y/N said. 

You didn’t really care about morality at this point. Such things as the Entity exist, anyways, You weren’t sure what you did to deserve being stranded here. Even if you did have a weird romantic interest in him, so what? Why would the Entity care? Why would any Gods care? And even then, you seemed to have an interest in his hobby. Blood and killing didn’t faze you anymore.

“You think so?” He asked you. 

“Depends on the person, I guess. I’d only do it to bad people.” You said.

“But, you’d do what I do?” He asked you.

“Yeah...?” You responded. Danny seemed a bit giddy.

“How would you do it?” Ghostface asked, he seemed way too excited to hear about your non-existent methods of killing.

“I don’t know...” Y/N replied, feeling somewhat flustered by how close he was to you. It was a different type of feeling when he wasn’t trying to stab you. 

“If you want, I could show you some pictures and give you tips.” He said.

“And kill who? We’re stuck in this hellhole.” You reminded him.

“What about the other survivors? They can’t all be innocent.” Ghostface said to you. He had some appreciation for you since you listened. It was crazy how much this strange man can switch up.

“No, never. I’m not that crazy.” You said as the loud horn of the exit gates blared. You looked around, really surprised. He seemed just as surprised.

“That long?” He questioned. 

“Guess I’m just that good of a distraction.” You said to him as he silently sighed in frustration but didn’t seem to care. A part of him enjoyed your talk.

“Guess you’re gonna be my one kill.” He said, shifting towards you and pushing you against the wall. You were taken aback by his swift movement.

You squirmed against his body, somewhat sliding downwards so kicking was pretty much useless unless you wanted to completely fall. The two of you grunted quietly as he turned you around, shoving your face against the hard wall. It was uncomfortable but he wasn’t being as rough as he usually was. At this point, you were scared of his knife so you tried pulling his hands away from you in the awkward position. Ghostface tightly pinned one of your arms on your back, you winced as he tugged on your hair.

He leaned inwards, poking his head towards your neck and hair. Ghostface took a moment to memorize your scent and what your hair texture might have felt like. For some strange reason, he seemed to want to learn everything about you. It might have been a bad idea for you to have opened him up about his art.

“Get off of me.” You demanded in a stern voice.

“You’re scaring me, Y/N.” He replied sarcastically. 

You froze up when he slid his hand under your shirt, his fingertips trailing on your back. It wasn’t the motion itself but rather the feeling of his ungloved hand. You felt yourself go into a rather catatonic state, not in fear but you were quick to wonder why he would take his glove off. A thousand thoughts and scenarios played in your mind. His touch was soft but still managed to leave you with chills. 

Ghostface, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying himself. He made notes of how soft your skin felt, his hand curiously wandered upwards. It wasn’t long before his hand wandered to your more sensitive areas. A gasp escaped your mouth as kept you pinned with his knees, his hands groping you a bit more roughly. Your face heated up when he squeezed you, you didn’t seem to struggle either. 

“Fuck...” You whispered.

“If only we had the time.” He mumbled, sticking three of his gloved fingers into your mouth. Your eyes rested as you stared upwards, allowing him to continue touching you. 

“I bet you’re getting all excited over this... if only I could capture the look on your face right now. How does it feel? Having somebody like me have their way?” He asked you. You felt aroused yet ashamed to oblige him.

“It feels good...” You managed to say, his fingers still in your mouth.

You felt the bulge in his crotch grow hard but this wasn’t the time or place. As much as he wanted to fuck you then and there, he needed to have some control over himself. He pulled his hands away and slid his glove back on. You let out a sigh of relief but also a whine. You knew just as much as he did that it just wasn’t the right time. You wiped the saliva from your lips and slowly stood up.

He pulled you backwards by your waist. You felt him rub his knife near your crotch, gliding it teasingly. His other hand wrapped around your neck. You heard him chuckle rather darkly. At this point, you seemed more hot and bothered than he was. Ghostface squeezed your neck a little harder, wanting to get one last sound of of you before he let you go. He didn’t care whether or not the Entity would be displeased or not.

“Guess you’ll have to be a whore some other time.” He said, cutting you on the arm slightly. You pulled your arm away quickly.

“Whatever.” You replied, flustered by his comment. Did that just happen?

“Better go before the Entity kills you itself.” He said to you.

“Right, right... see you around, Danny.” You said before quickly walking away and then running towards the exit gates. 

His head tilted curiously. Ghostface wasn’t sure if he had feelings or not. He admired you for listening to him and asking some questions though. But, now that he knew you’d do things with him willingly, he had some ideas. A wide smile grew behind his mask as he began to fantasize about the photos he would eventually take. 

You would probably come to regret your actions, seeing as his obsession with you would grow. Danny needed to know everything about you and even felt a bit possessive now. It didn’t matter, there was many possibilities within the Fog. Pray that you’ll be ready for your next meeting.

NOTE: Currently writing a full fledged Danny fic with a different plot but have the sequel to the Distraction. Ty for reading!

[hotlineslasher]

Interview With A Slasher

Rating: Explicit (I think?? I mean it’s smut)

Word Count: 2.8K

Warnings: Swearing, Sexual Content (Vaginal Fingering), Danny is a confusing bastard 

A/N: I don’t want plot with my porn just feelings! This is my first fic I’ve ever posted pls be gentle with me I promise I’ll be better in the future and write less niche scorpio porn

AO3 link

***

When you first set foot into the entity’s perverted playworld, it was a hellscape made worse by how straight-up confusing everything was. Sure, the entity keeps on coming up with new insanities to throw at you, but over time you’ve learned there are rules that make things bearable. That make things make sense. If x, then y. If you break the don’t-drop-god-pallet rule, you get left to suffer on the hook longer. If you don’t unhook your teammates before the entity creeps down to thrash with them, you probably won’t escape with your life... or your friendship. If you don’t heal Bill quickly, his wheezing will be everyone’s downfall.

And, of course, if you so much as look at a killer outside of the trials, you’ll be cut off from the group.

Though it made all the sense in the world for survivors and killers to hook up in between hooking, you were the only one out of your little group to do the deed with one of the proverbial devils in your hell. Survivors smooching survivors was completely commonplace but you knew if they found out the infamous ghostface had taken very... different polaroids of you, they’d take it as a betrayal. Other survivors who weren't already spoken for were fair game, but choosing to interact with any of the killers was a statement.

So, despite Danny’s whining and bitching, you had made sure to be extremely careful. Which meant additional rules for the two of you. One of which was no sneaking off from the campfire, no matter how hard you could feel him staring at you from across the burning logs. Ironically, you weren't exactly sure where the two of you stood in the less literal sense. One dirty affair was more than enough for you, so you hadn't so much as looked at any of the survivors like that since your first hookup with Danny... but you didn't know if the same could be said for him. I mean, as ridiculous as the situation is, it would be nice to know what you meant to him. With Danny, it was kind of hard to tell. On one hand, he'd been... interested in you from the start. Any time you were in a trial together, you were his obsession, and it had always been like that. He was less lethal when it came to chasing you, like he enjoyed the game of cat and mouse when you were the one playing it with him. On the other, as much as he loved to stalk you, he wasn't exactly forthcoming about himself. Whenever you tried to get to know him beyond the ghostface mask, he'd distract you, or deflect, or get magically pulled away to a trial. Your gaze drifts over to where Nancy and Steve are huddled together, looking the very image of cutesy. Oh, to pick sensible romantic partners like Steve.

“You okay, kid?” Bill’s gruff voice pulls your focus from the flames you’ve been staring at to avoid Danny’s gaze. Ironically, Bill is sitting across from you so now you have a small excuse to glimpse in Danny’s direction. “Bad trial?” The old man prompts.

Your shoulders pull up in a shrug, “I mean, when is there ever a good trial?” Your answer isn’t cheery by any stretch, but that’s one of your favorite things about Bill. Talking to him, you don’t feel any pressure to bullshit and act optimistic.

A husky laugh rattles out of him and immediately you feel more at ease, like you’re just hanging out with peepaw. “Fair point,” he nods. “Who was it? One of the more fucked-up ones?”

It actually makes you snort, because intuitively you sort of know which select killers he’s referring to. “Yeah, it was the clown. I swear to god, I inhaled so much of that shit my voice is going to start sounding like yours,” you smile, eyeing Bill with the fondness of grandpa’s favorite grandkid.

Bill rolls his eyes and it looks like he’s going to fire back some sass when suddenly Ace comes sauntering over to clap a hand on his back. “Sorry to interrupt, hot stuff, but I need you to come teach the new girl that trick against slugging.” Ace tilts his head towards where Feng and Elodie are sitting a couple yards away, both audibly pissed at having been left to bleed out on the ground.

“Oh, sure, sure.” Bill nods as he gets up from his seat, always one to have his priorities clearly in check. Another one of the unspoken rules. Someone needs some guidance in the trials, you give it to them without hesitation. You still owed Meg for teaching you how to slip into lockers quietly. “Wait— you uh, you gonna be okay on your own?” The old man is standing like he’s ready to go with Ace, but his eyes are hard and clearly telling you he’ll stay with you if you need him to.

Ace opens his mouth, probably to offer to keep you company, but you’re not like Bill. Waving them both off, your eyes fall on where Danny is crouched in the shadows. Your priorities are nowhere NEAR where they should be, you think, waiting for them to take a few steps away before you break your very cardinal rule: no sneaking away at the campfire.

His hands were on you immediately and your adrenaline ran hot in response. “You have to be quiet, Danny,” you reminded him quickly, keenly aware of his penchant for risky dirty talk.

“Aww, but I thought you hated it when I was quiet!” You couldn’t see his face behind his mask, but god, you could feel the dramatic pout. His fingers slid across your hips, pulling you into him aggressively. “Or do you just need some foreplay first?” He purred, one palm slipping down underneath your skirt to grab at the flesh of your ass. “Fuck, I love it when she puts you in this.”

“Danny!” You hissed, nerves ablaze with proximity-based anxiety. You were playing with fire by even letting him get this far and you knew it. Danny was the kind of guy who you couldn’t give an inch to because he’d take a yard and would make it feel so good you’d happily give him a mile no matter how many warning alarms went off in your head. “If any of them-“

“I know, I know, if any of them find out you’d be a pariah, blah blah blah... hey, I didn’t know you liked the old fucker so much,” Danny says completely casually, his palm smoothing over your asscheek absentmindedly.

You sigh, hating how you can already feel yourself melting a bit under his touch. “Feeling jealous?” You breathe, looking up into the black mesh that’s hiding his eyes from you.

He has the audacity to snort, the cocky son of a bitch. “Fuck no,” he chuckles light-heartedly. “You’re lucky I don’t spank you raw just for suggesting that.” You feel the points of his fingers dig into the skin of your ass with the threat. Suddenly his other hand is on your face, cradling your jaw gently. “I just wanna know more shit about you,” he says plainly, his two hands sending two very different signals to your touch-starved brain, both of them good.

You lean into the one that’s framing your cheek, hating yourself for how handsy you’re letting him be when you’re both close enough to hear Bill bark out directions. “Yeah? You wanna know who’s my bff back at the campfire?” It’s sarcastic and you know you immediately need to make up for it unless you want to tempt him into making you scream. You decide you’ll placate him by turning your face and pressing a kiss into his gloved palm. You think you catch the faintest sigh from him for your effort.

“I do,” he grunts as his hand turns to cover your mouth, his fingertips pressing into your cheeks. “I wanna know everything about you.” Coming from someone else, it might sound romantic. But Danny’s voice is dark, teetering on obsessive. From a different person, the words might paint a picture of lovely dates and idyllic late-night conversations. But from his masked mouth, they scream stalking. Looking at you when you don’t know he’s there, sifting through your belongings, hoarding candids of you that you’ll never know exist.

“So come on, is it the geezer? You know, thinking back on it, he does love to take hits for you,” Danny muses, his mood suddenly light again.

You roll your eyes, reaching up to pull his palm off your mouth when you feel his grip soften. “Sure, I guess Bill is my bff. I have to fight Ace for him though, so I don’t know how mutual it is,” you shrug. It’s irrelevant shit, you know it is, and you can’t see his face to make sure, but you suspect Danny’s listening intently to you anyways. Like he’d be happy to hear you prattle on about the social dynamics between the people he loves to gut. The undivided attention fills you with yearning and his gloved finger is in your mouth before the thought is even fully formed. You don’t know how much of your heat he can actually feel through the thick fabric, but based on how his fingers slip under your panties, it’s doing something for him.

“God, you’re such a slut,” he hisses, the fingers in your panties now prodding at your slit. “You don’t know how bad I want to pull out my dick and make you choke on it right now.” His arousal feeds yours like it always does and combined with the leather slipping between your folds, you don’t stand a chance. Fuck the rules. You lathe at his finger happily, but Danny has other plans and before you know it your mouth is empty. Your eyebrows pull up in confusion and he shushes you sweetly. “I wanna hear more,” he explains, his fingers inching towards your hole. “Tell me,” he urges, “tell me everything and I’ll make you cum, beautiful.”

His slow attack on you has you biting your lip and failing to decipher what he specifically wants to hear. “W... what do you want to— know?” You breathe, both of your hands finding themselves on his chest for support.

“Which one of them was your first friend here?” He asks as one of his long fingers penetrates you lazily. He wastes no time in establishing the sensual rhythm, but you know Danny, and you know it’ll all stop unless you play his weird games. Today, it’s whatever the hell this line of questioning is.

You blink, trying to come up with an answer while he massages your walls. “Meg,” you finally answer, your nails digging into the leather covering his chest. He doesn’t answer right away and you bite back a smile. “The redhead,” you clarify. Of course he wouldn’t know anybody’s names, duh, you’re letting a killer fingerfuck you right now.

Pleased that you’ve caught onto what he wants, Danny slips another finger into you and makes you keen like a teenager. “Who would you bring back with you, if you could go back to your old life?” Both the question and the spot his second finger rubs up against take you by surprise and you almost cry out. The contrast between how well you know each other’s most sensitive spots and how little you know about each other’s ‘old lives’ gives you a weird feeling in your stomach. “Shhh,” Danny taunts happily, “we have to be quiet, remember?” His smirk is pretty much audible as he throws your words back in your face.

You shoot him a glare in response but grab onto one of his outfit’s tendrils to hopefully try and ground yourself. “Who’s your bff?” You suddenly ask, taking you both by surprise. His fingers keep moving but it’s clear he wasn’t expecting you to flip his inquiry back on him. You can't blame him, you weren't expecting you to do that either. The quiet milliseconds feel like hours and you find yourself starting to sweat a bit more. Fuck, was that not okay? His fingers stay inside you, moving at their same rhythm, but you're to busy overthinking to keep climbing towards your orgasm right now.

“Amanda, probably,” Danny responds with a small shrug. You feel yourself start to breathe again. “Oh,” he giggles, “you wouldn’t know her name, right. The Pig,” he clarifies quickly before shifting his focus to your clit.

A sigh tumbles out of you as he rubs it with just enough pressure to make you sink your nails into the cloth of the tendril. Like always, Danny’s mind and body seem to be on two different paths as he starts plunging his digits in faster. “Danny,” you beg, desperately wanting a beat to think about the information he just gave you but not finding it in his new rhythm.

“Come on, you didn’t answer my second question. You’re lucky you look so fucking hot right now or else I’d leave you high and dry... well, maybe I will...” he threatens and you press your forehead into his chest, trying to communicate how badly you do /not/ want that to happen.

“Fuck, fuck,” you pant, brain whirring trying to remember his question. Honestly? It’d been so long since you let yourself think of your ‘old life,’ you didn’t really have an answer thought out. “I don’t— know,” you pull back to look at him through his mask, “I don’t think about my old— my old life anymore.” You’re not sure if it’ll piss him off because you’ve again failed to answer the question but Danny tends to like honesty so you pray he lets it slide. Because, fuck, his thumb on your clit like it is has you ready to drench him at any moment.

He’s quiet for a second. His head tilts. And then you hear his gruff sigh and suddenly his pace becomes even more lethal. Your knees buckle but his other hand wraps around your waist like a vice and you swear some of the tendrils seem to reach out towards you too. If you thought it felt heavenly before, it was nothing compared to how he was touching you now. Your own hand has to slap across your mouth to stop you from moaning like a whore. “Good,” he hisses, his voice low. “Don’t ever think about it,” he demands, “you’re here, now.” Your vision swims as you tear up, his assault on your heat making you shake. “You’re never getting rid of me, you understand?” His voice sounds obsessive again but it only gets you hotter.

You both know you’re going to cum any second, there’s no way you could properly respond to the insane shit he’s saying right now, you can barely even process it. So, instead, you choose to be risky again and move the hand that’s covering your mouth to his neck instead and pull his mask to meet your lips.

Your eyes jam shut as your hips seize and sharp jolts of white-hot pleasure wrack your entire being. You hope you’re quiet but honestly, mid-orgasm you can only hear Danny’s erratic panting. For a few precious seconds, while your body is flooded with endorphins from his ministrations, it’s just you and him. Your mouth pulls away slightly while you ride the orgasm but he closes the distance between you instantly, pressing his masked mouth to yours.

The blood pounding in your ears starts to slow down and your eyes open back up slowly. You’re so close you can see through the mesh and into his irises. His pupils are completely blown out and it gives him a downright feral look you know should really scare you. But it doesn’t. After all, that’s the real first rule you broke.

You pull away and lean your head on his shoulder when you start to worry he'll hear how your heart is beating out of your chest, your panting far quieter now though it’s still rugged as hell. “Who...” you pipe up when you feel his fingers slip out of you, “who would you...?” Your brain is still way too fuzzy from the hormones to fully articulate what you mean. Hopefully he gets that you’re asking his question back and doesn’t think you just sound like an idiot—

You feel his chest shake when he rumbles out a chuckle above you. From where you’re angled, you get to watch him bring his fingers up to his mouth from behind the mask. A small groan escapes him at tasting you and your chest soars with confidence. He thinks you taste good. Better than good, given how much time he’s spending savoring every last drop on his tongue. You almost forget about your question at the show, but you remember instantly when his raspy voice rattles out, “isn’t it obvious?”

You blink slowly and then suddenly you feel a swell of affection for him as you get his meaning.

Out of everyone, even the killers, you. He’d choose you.

[ceciliablossoms]

sazerac with zhongli, diluc, and kaeya? congrats on 100 followers!! 💕

Thank you so much! 💞💞

Sazerac: “I don’t… feel very….-”

TW: Mentions of Alcohol Consumption and Intoxication (Diluc), Mentions of Injury (Kaeya), Mentions of Illness (Zhongli)

-------

Zhongli

It was little before midday when they met up for their daily luncheon. Zhongli was already sitting at a table on the restaurant patio waiting for them, already having ordered their beverages as they both always got the same thing every time without fail. They were running a tad bit late, however, he paid no mind since he knew they were quite busy.

He drank from his small teacup as he waited, and it wasn't until they called his name that he looked up. They were jogging in his direction, dominant hand up in the air in an exaggerated wave. With a chuckle, he returned the wave, albeit more proper. He knew though, that something was wrong the moment that they sat across from him.

They had a sweaty sheen to their skin despite it being chilly out and sported a tired look on their face. At first, he chalked it up to the word they had been doing but the lack of appetite the food was served confirmed some suspicions. They hardly touched any of their food despite it being such a small portion and he eyed them with worry.

After the meal, he had proposed that they go home and rest a while but they happy insisted on walking with him back to the funeral parlour before doing so. But the walk was a struggle for them. Their movements were sluggish and they had trouble keeping up with him.

They grabbed his sleeve and tugged on it gently to grab his attention. He glanced over at them, his expression turning to one of surprise when he saw how much worse they had looked now than they did earlier.

“I don’t… feel very….-”, They promptly fell over.

He was quick on the draw and caught them before they hit the ground. He scooped them up gently as to not jostle them too much and touched his forehead to theirs. It was very clear that they had a fever but when he felt how warm their skin was, he realized how bad the fever actually was.

With great care, he carried them home and lied them down in their bedroom then immediately set out to speak with Baizhu about getting them some medicine. He also alerted Hu Tao to the predicament which she allowed him to take care of.

When they awoke, Zhongli was at their bedside, with a novel in hand. They looked around and took in their surroundings, relaxing when they realized that it was just their bedroom. The moment they made a move to sit up, the book in his hand was closed on the bedside table and he was gently pushing them to lie back down.

"Now, now, you mustn't overexert yourself. You will only feel worse if you do not rest. Stay put." He left the room only to return with a small bowl of water, a clean towel, and the medication Baizhu had prescribed earlier. He propped them up so on their pillows so they could take their medicine then immediately lied them back down.

They watched as he dampened the towel in the bowl before wringing it out. A soft sigh escaped their lips as he placed it over their forehead. The cold water did wonders to cool them down. He returned to his seat at their bedside.

"If there is anything at all you need please do not hesitate to let me know."

They smiled. "Thank you, Zhongli."

-

Diluc

The evening was in full swing, all the usual customers in their usual seats ordering their usual drinks. It was Diluc's turn behind the bar tonight, and as irritated as he was by the drunkards that didn't compare to the irritating he felt when the bard walked in with them on his heels.

Diluc heaved a sigh as the two took their usual seats at the bar, unknowing that this would turn out how it always did when Charles was present. They would tag along to make sure Venti wouldn't drain Diluc's entire stock of wine and pay for whatever the bard couldn't, so DIluc wouldn't be mad. Then Venti would persuade them to drink with him, and they were such a lightweight that they would end up getting so drunk they blacked out.

He rubbed his temple as Venti ordered his usual favourite but served him nonetheless. They noticed how annoyed he was already and tried to spark up a conversation with him to ease his nerves.

He visibly relaxed, mostly doing the listening as he never was one for talking more than he had to. Occasionally, Venti would interrupt to tease them or order a refill, and every time he did they would hand Diluc more Mora to which he would roll his eyes.

"You should be making the bard pay for his own indulgences." He commented after Venti's 9th refill. At this point, they were getting tipsy too, as the bard would occasionally offer them a drink of his alcohol.

"It... It's fine. I don't... mind." He could tell that they were trying their hardest not to slur their words

He had hit his 13th a while ago and was even more giggly than normal but otherwise still relatively sober. They, on the other hand, were rather inebriated, their sentences completely incoherent. Diluc had long since cut Venti off, highly irritated that he continued to share his booze with them.

Their voice was quiet when they spoke, “I don’t… feel very….-” The faceplanted onto the counter, the noise of their head hitting the bar startling both men. That was when Diluc closed the bar, forcing everyone to leave immediately and with gentle hands scoops them up and carries them back to the winery.

The next morning, the headache they had was the worst one they think they've ever had, and they held their head in their hands. The curtains were still closed to limit the light exposure as post hangover sensitivity can be an issue and on the nightstand were pain killers and a glass of iced water. They downed both needily and stayed in bed not quite trusting their legs just yet.

Not longer after Diluc came in with a small tray in hand, figuring having the maids do it would be strange to them, "Do you think you can eat?" He kept his voice down so any loudness wouldn't make the migraine worse.

With a hesitant nod, they gave him the okay and he set the tray of food in their lap. The portions were small so it wouldn't make them ill. Their stomach churned but they ate nonetheless, albeit extremely slowly.

They thanked him quietly and he sat on the foot of the bed with a nod. "You needn't let that bard talk you into drinking if you can't handle it."

With a sigh, they nodded slowly, already knowing that Charles had told him of the previous encounters. They took a slow sip of water. "I know..."

He waited until they were finished before taking the tray from them and setting it on a dresser near the door. "Is there anything you need?"

They patted the spot next to them, "Will you stay until this headache subsides?"

He nodded again, sitting next to them, wrapping an arm around them as they curled up against his torso.

-

Kaeya

The task was simple. Just the normal routine of clearing out some hilichurl camps with Amber then report back to the Headquarters. The two slip up, Amber took everything to the right of the bridge and they took everything to the left.

The Whispering Woods were relatively empty but beyond that was a different story. There was a large gathering of hilichurls and it seemed as though multiple tribes had converged into one. They watched for a bit from the bushes before deciding to clear out the massive group.

Having dealt with many hilichurls in their time they didn't think that solo clearing the camp would have been that big of a deal. What they expect, however, was to be completely and utterly overwhelmed. The smaller hilichurls and samachurls was no issue, but the sheer amount of mitachurls began to cause problems.

There were many at a time, swinging in sync from different angles in an attempt to cut them down where they stood. Adrenaline pumped through their veins as they fought with vigour. Mitachurl after mitachurl was slain and even after Amber had come to aid them they were still slaying the beasts.

Amber was worried, to say the least with the amount of dirt and grime that coated their clothes. They insisted, however, that they weren't injured as they felt no pain. The two went back to the town together, and they had said they would take care of reporting to Kaeya as Amber had stated she was hungry. The duo parted ways.

They found the walk to the headquarters to be more burdensome than normal, movements usually more sluggish. They ignored the worried glances from passersby and continued on their way. By the time they had entered Kaeya's office, their skin was significantly paler, all of its colour drained.

They called his name as they entered, ready to give the report when a sharp pain made them gasp. Kaeya looked up from his desk, expression changing to one of shock. They had been unaware that they had been bleeding through their clothing. He quickly stood and caught them as they fell forward.

“I don’t… feel very….-”

He keeps forces a smile and keeps his tone level, "Stay awake, hm?" but it all crumbles the moment they fall unconscious.

He called for either Wyratt or Wood down the hall as he placed his hands on their injury to staunch the bleeding. The blood was seeping from a gash on their side that he was assuming they didn't feel because of adrenaline. The two knights ran in and he demanded they fetch one of the sisters immediately. The two jumped at the tone of his voice, scrambling to the church.

He didn't know if he was angry with them for being reckless or the mitachurl that gave them the injury but regardless he was. Scooping them up with one hand he applied pressure with the other, deciding that he would at least try to meet them halfway as other Knights ushered away any prying eyes.

When the sisters got their hands on them, they were in shock, namely Barbara who was very clearly stressed out by the look of their injury. They were sweating and their skin was clammy. She worked diligently to clean and take care of the injury as best she could to get them into a state where they could be taken back to the church.

It took a while but she succeeded, stabilizing them and carrying them as carefully as possible to the infirmary in the back for the cathedral. Hours passed before they awoke and their pain was unbearable. Kaeya sat next to them, feet kicked up on the foot of the bed. He stood the instant he noticed them wake up.

The relief in his eye showed exactly how he felt despite not showing it outwardly, "How are you feeling?"

"Much better." Their voice sounded weak and they were still very pale.

He grabbed their hand gently, placing a kiss over their knuckles with a light chuckle, "You gave us all quite the scare." He flashed his usual smile but it was also noticeably relieved. The report could wait. Their recovery was more important.

[quicksilverownsmysoul]

Stay pt. 2

Summary: An unknown killer has been abducting local girls but somehow you managed to escape but you are still scarred to be alone. You are now safe in Easttown where you meet Colin Zabel a detective who is helping Mare with your case. When he finds out you have no where to stay he offers to let you stay with him. Little does he know where this offer will lead, and in the end you both end up finding comfort in one another.

Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping, restraint, angst, there us fluff sprinkled throughout it

Word Count: 2879

“What if she stays with me?” Mare whipped her head up to look at him and Harriet did the same. He looked at them, his head tilted slightly to the side. “What?” 

Mare gave him a hard look as if willing him to understand what about what he had said was wrong. 

“What?” He asked again.

 “Really? You think she should stay with you?”

“Yea.” 

“Are you stupid?” At this point Harriet was glaring at him as well. 

He gave a shrug, his arms still crossed over his chest. “I mean I know I’m not the ideal person to take her in, Harriet is the best candidate. “She nodded her head at this. “But I'm a detective and I have training, I can protect her.

“Zabel.” Mare said slowly as if willing him to understand. “You want the girl who was abducted and assaulted by a male killer to stay with you, a man.”

 Colin’s eyes widened at the realization. “Oh okay I get why you guys were so concerned. But no I’m not offering her to stay with me alone I’m offering for her too. Wait.” He said taking a deep breath trying to clear the awkwardness but only making it worse. He took a deep breath and started again.” Look, I live with my mom.” Mare raised an eyebrow at this but she was in no position to judge him. “She could come stay with me and my mom. There would be a woman present at all times and an older woman at that. She might provide some motherly comfort to (y/n). My mom is also retired so she’ll be able to look after her like all day while I’m at work. And I’ll be there too and can prove protection if it comes to that.” Colin let out a breath of relief after fully explaining his intentions. 

Mare and Harriet glanced at one another. “That’s actually a good idea Zabel.” He smiled at Mare’s compliment. “If she doesn't want to stay alone at her apartment she can stay with you if she feels comfortable with it.” 

Mare stood up making her way to the door. “I’ll go and explain everything to her and let you know what she says.” Mare excused herself from their office and made her way towards you. She nodded at you as she sat down on the bench, making sure to keep her distance. “Hey so we know you have your apartment and if you want we are more than willing to drive you there, and we’ll have eyes on the surveillance to make sure no one bothers you.” You nodded your head at her proposal, a seed of dread still sitting in your stomach. You really didn't want to go back and be all alone. “Is there any way I can stay with you or Harriet?” You asked meekly. 

Mare gave you a tight smile and shook her head with a no. “Sorry.”

You sighed. “That's okay.”

“There is another option.” Your head whipped up, you were ready to accept whatever it would be if it meant you wouldn't be alone. “If you want you can stay with Detective Zabel.” You felt yourself heat up at the offer, that was the last thing you had expected Mare to say. 

You leaned to the side and looked past Mare towards Colin. He was working on something but when he saw you looking he gave you a wave and a smile. “You can stay with him and his mother.” You looked at her with wide eyes not believing her offer. 

“I don’t want to be a bother.” 

“You won’t be. And honestly we would feel much better if you were staying with someone we know.” 

You bit your lips weighing your options. On one hand you really didn't want to be alone right now. But you also didn't want to inconvenience Colin. You looked up at him again, he looked like he would be able to protect you if anything happened, he was the most obvious choice. You were still a little hesitant about staying with him because a part of you wanted to do it for a more selfish reason. He was so nice to you and the way he talked to you brought you a comfort you hadn't felt in a long while. And he was cute, you chided yourself for thinking it but it burned in the back of your mind. You sighed already knowing which option you were going to pick.“Okay.” 

Mare gave you a soft smile. “Okay I’ll tell him.” 

Mare got up to leave but she stopped herself glancing around the room. It seemed Harriet had left to go back to her department floor. Mare knew that she had told her that they should wait to interview you till later but she really needed to talk with you and see what you knew. Sh turne dback to face you and you gave her a curious look. “Hey, would you mind answering a couple questions.”

“About the case?” 

“It’s okay if you-”

“Yeah of course.” Mare was a little taken aback at your response. She was expecting you to try and push it back but there was this hardness in your eyes. You hated that man more than anything in the world, you wanted to do anything you could to get justice for the girls he had killed. You got up and followed Mare into the interrogation room, she called Colin to come in and he sat beside her on the other side of the table. You avoided their piercing gazes and stared down at your lap, playing with your hands. Mare’s voice made you look back up.

“So you were only missing for about two weeks, correct.” 

“Yes but it felt like longer.” You watched Colin as he scribbled down your answer to what Mare had asked you. “He um he approached me late at night. I was walking home from work, my car was being repaired. It was a Tuesday I think.” You furrowed your brows as you tried to recall the exact details of what had happened on the night of your abduction. 

Colin looked at the way your face scrunched up and set his pen down. “We can do this later if you’d like.”

“No, I want to do this now.” You said with a harsh tone. “Sorry, it’s just I want to help you guys anyway I can.” Colin nodded and picked his pen back up. “It was tuesday and I had to work late so I didn't walk home with my friends like I usually do. I was walking home and this guy jumped me near the alley.”

“Do you remember anything about him?” Mare asked.

“Yeah, he had a scar across his palm on his right hand. He was big, but he had a stomach. I never saw his face though. I was new so all he really did with me was tie me up and drug me. So my memory of the house is really hazy. The girl that was there took care of me, she was supposed to teach me how to act around him.” 

“If you were tied up, how did you escape?” 

“He only tied us back with rope, and for the most part during the day and night we were allowed to just be in the room unrestrained because it was locked.” You rubbed your wrists, remember the way the rope burned your skin and how raw it made it. “But one day when he came in to get the girl I was with, she was pregnant and he didn't like that. He pulled her out in a haste and when he locked the door behind him he didn't do it right.” You were crying at this point, remember the screams of the girl as she is pulled away. She had looked out for you when you got there and you knew there was no hope of ever seeing her again.You knew they would find her eventually but it wouldn't be alive. “So when he went to bed I was able to slam against the door and after a couple hits it opened.”

“He didn't hear you?”

“No, we were kept in this storm cellar near the house. It was raining that night, I waited for the cracks of thunder and then hit the door, that way it would mask the sound. I don’t remember the house or where it was as soon as I broke out I ran. It was really secluded, I could hear his car chasing me but I guess I lost him once I hit the woods.” You sniffled, your heart rate picking up at just remembering the events. You had tripped so many times out of fear alone, at one point you believed that there really was no escape. You had collapsed at the edge of the woods from exhaustion, at the time you didn't have any idea that you had actually made it out. 

Colin watched the tears stream down your face. He hated that they had to make you relieve your trauma, but anything you remembered could be critical in catching the guy. Mare reached out and consoled you, telling you that there were only a couple more questions they needed to ask you. You nodded and answered them the best you could. 

“Thank you (y/n). You gave us a lot of good leads to look up on.” She stood up and you did the same. “Detective Zabel will take you to your apartment so you can get some of your belongings and then to his house and help you settle in.” 

You weren't prepared for how out of place you would feel in your own apartment. You hadn't even been gone that long and yet everything seemed so foreign to you. You told Colin he would make himself comfortable as you got a bag together. You walked through your apartment looking at all of your possessions. Nothing seemed real, or brought any comfort. In your mind you were still trapped in that small space, sharing a twin mattress with a girl who was long gone. You had loved your apartment and now it just seemed constraining. Willing you to continue with your life and go back to normal. Something you weren't quite ready for yet. You rifled through your clothes, pulling random out of the drawers, not even bothering to see what it was. All you wanted to do was get out of your apartment. 

Colin was looking at the pictures that were hanging on your wall. He smiled to himself at seeing you through the years, from your awkward teen years to now. He liked this one picture in particular, you were on the beach standing about ankle deep in the water. Your hair was blowing around your face and you had the happiest smile on your face. He blushed looking at it, you  looked very pretty in the picture. Of course he had thought you looked very pretty the first time he had laid eyes on you. As soon as he thought about it he shook his head trying to clear it from his mind. It wasn't right of him to think things like that, he had just met you and you had gone through something horrible. The last thing you needed was the man you were staying with thinking about you in that way. 

You watched as Colin looked over your pictures with a smile on his face. You blushed at the way he stared at our pictures. You cleared your throat and he turned to face you. You lifted up your bag. “I’m ready to go now.” 

The ride to his house was awkward and quiet. Colin glanced over at you. “I wasn't sure if I was supposed to have the radio on or not.” You raised an eyebrow at him and he continued on. “You know how they always say in serious situations you should not have your radio on cause it seems insensitive.” He started to ramble and you watched him with an amused look. He was so considerate but in the most awkward way possible. He sighed and glanced at you again. “That didn't make any sense did it?”

“Not at all.” He laughed and you did as well. It surprised you, you didn't expect to be able to laugh like that anymore. You took a quick glance at Colin, there was something about him that you couldn't quite place, something about him that made you feel safe and almost normal. Being around him reminded you of who you used to be. Colin saw you looking at him and smiled, you looked away with a smile of your own taking hold. Colin flipped on the radio, ABBA started playing. He hummed along to the tune mumbling the words to the song under his breath. After a while you joined him, your shoulders moving away from your ears as you relaxed. “Afraid of a love affair, but I think you know, that I can’t let go….” 

Your first thought was that Colin’s house felt like a home. The minute you stepped through the door this wave of comfort settled over you. The dated furniture and childhood pictures really tied it all together. His mom tried to ambush you at the door with questions and hugs as Colin did his best to fend her off. He told her she could talk to you after you got settled in. 

 Colin rubbed the nape of his neck giving you an apologetic smile. "I’m sorry about her. She means well.” 

“I think she’s nice.” You gave him a gentle smile.

He led you down the hall and stopped at the door closest to the living room. “This is the guest room.” He opened the door. The room was filled with boxes and crafting supplies, they were scattered over the bed and tossed into various corners. Colin cursed and scrambled to quickly empty the room. You giggled as you watched him apologize for the mess. He shook the blanket out, coughing at the dust that erupted from the fabric. He placed the blanket back down and placed his hands on his hips. “I didn't think the room was this bad.”

“It’s okay, it’ll be interesting to stay here.” You joked. 

“No, it’s not, um let’s see.” Colin thought for a moment before it hit him. He grabbed your bag and opened the door across from the room. “You can stay in my room.” He smiled widely at you and you just gaped at him.

“What, no-

“Yes, you can stay here and I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Mr. Zabel-”

“Colin.” He smiled shyly at you. ‘Please call me Colin.”

You returned it and started again. “Colin, I can sleep on the couch. I mean you’re already letting me stay here. I can’t take your room either.” 

“Please, take the room.” His tone was firm. You sighed and nodded. “Great, so you can get settled here while I go back to the station.”

“You’re leaving?” 

“I have to get back to help Mare, but my mom will be here if you need anything. And if you need me you can call me. Okay?”

“Okay.” He moved towards you and kissed your cheek, you flinched and he reeled back. 

“Oh my god I’m so sorry!” He practically jumped to the other side of the room. “Force of habit I usually kiss my mom on the cheek before I leave. I-” he sputtered out, his face flushed red. I’m just going to go now, I’ll see you later.” He rushed out before leaving you standing alone in the center of his room. 

You lifted your hand up to your cheek to feel the spot where he had kissed you. It was wildly inappropriate that he had done so, but it was even worse that you enjoyed it. You felt your heart flutter at the thought of him kissing you again, but this time moved slightly over. 

You set your bag down on his bed and made your way to the kitchen. His mom was sitting at the dining room table and got up when she saw you coming. 

“It’s okay ma’am, you don’t need to get up. I just came to get a drink of water.” 

‘Let me get it.” She didn't even give you room to protest, she sprang out of her chair and rushed back with a glass of water. You thanked her.

“You have a really nice home Ms. Zabel.”

 “Thank you dear.” She smiled warmly at you and hesitantly reached her hand out towards you. Resting it on your forearm, you looked at where her hand rested. You hated how such a simple act of comfort made you tear up, it was nice to feel such a loving touch. Her voice made you look back up at her. “You know, this is your home now too.” 

You smiled at her, nodding at her statement. Little did you know how right she was. And little did you know that pretty soon Detective Colin Zabel’s house would become more of a home to you than any place before.

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[multific]

Uprising

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hydra!Bucky AU

Summary: James Buchanan Barnes, the most powerful man in the whole wide world, but even the most dangerous and influential people had to have a weakness. 

Inspired by THIS video.

Bucky was an intelligent man, a very intelligent man.

After his escape, he took over Hydra and became the most powerful man on Earth, yet he was still not satisfied. 

The problem with power and money is once you have a little taste, you won’t be able to stop. And this was the same with Bucky. Although he used to be disgusted with the people who were like that, he became the very thing he swore not to become, a power and money-driven person.

After his escape, he wanted to disappear, he didn't want to do anything with Hydra, but then he realized.

If he took over, he could save so many people like him from going through the same as he did. After contemplating for a long time, his goal was clear.

He needed to get to the top and he had the skills for it.

So, he killed every person who was in his way and in charge of Hydra.  Bucky knew he wouldn't be able to sleep at night knowing that it is in the hands of someone.

He thought he would be satisfied, that he would be done once and for all as soon as he has Hydra in the palm of his hand, but no. 

Soon after he made sure every person who had anything to do with his kidnapping and brainwashing was dealt with, Bucky wanted more. He became a power-hungry man.

So, after he made them regret everything they have done to him and others, he felt lost.

There was no clear vision for him. No goal in mind. No goal, but to get more power.

And then, you came along.

You were just a simple girl who caught his eye as you walked down the street. He passed you in his car, seeing you just walking down, he knew there was something about you.

Something that captivated him.

And he needed to know what that something was exactly. 

In about an hour later, your file was in his hands, family, education, previous and current jobs, everything. 

And so, the next day, he went into your job. Finding you smiling and talking with a co-worker. 

Your smile took his breath away.

And suddenly, he had a new goal.

***

You on the other hand, only realized the handsome stranger coming in after a co-worker pointed him out. You were too occupied with your work. 

But once your eyes locked with his, it was over for you.

The statement that he was handsome didn't do any justice to him. But you noticed, he rarely smiled. He was always very serious. He always wore a suit with a matching tie. It was no question in your mind that he was a rich man.

Of course, you were surprised when he came over to you and started talking with you. He was genuinely interested in you, but something deep inside told you to run away. Avoid him. He was bad.

But you didn't listen.

And just how glad you were that you didn't. 

Because, once you got to know him, it was all worth it. You no longer saw a man who didn't smile, no, now you saw Bucky who had been through so much pain yet still survived and now was there with you. 

To the world, he was the feared leader of Hydra, but to you, a loving and caring husband.

Bucky asked you to marry him after one year of dating. You said yes, of course. 

Bucky could buy all the diamonds in the whole wide world, but you still loved him and only him, not the money, not the status. But you had to agree, there was something about the fact that whenever you entered a room, everyone knew exactly who you were and not to mess with you. Bucky, he carried you like you were the most precious gem, and to him, you were. Even after he confessed his past, and he told you about who he became, you were still there with him, loving him, caring for him as no one has done in a long time. 

The house you lived in was more like a palace. Huge garden, plenty of rooms, hallways that you could easily get lost in up to this day and a gorgeous garden with fountains at the back.

Bucky made sure his property is safe at all times, gates, guards and cameras littered the whole place. Because he wanted to be assured you were safe when he wasn't at home with you. 

He often sat in his office, thinking if it's creepy to look at you through the cameras. But he could tell that you knew he was watching. Of course, you did. You often sent kisses to the cameras, knowing he would see them.

You loved him with all your heart. And he loved you just as much if not more.

Whenever he arrived home, he loved watching you wait for him, staying up late just so you two can fall asleep together. It gave him a sense of safety which he didn't feel in a long time.

The fact that you accepted him for the man that he is with his past was something he would never forget. He was a killer, a machine created to murder, and now, he wasn't any better, according to him, he was the same, just with better clothes a mansion and a wife.

***

"Bucky?" you yelled down the long hallway.

"Yes?" as soon as you heard his voice you followed it and soon you found him in a room close to your bedroom.

"What are you doing here? I thought we were going to have lunch?"

"Thinking."

"Oh, you do a lot of that." you smiled as you went out to the balcony, he followed you. "This is one of my favourite rooms, the view is just amazing." Bucky came around and hugged you from behind, placing his head on your shoulder.

"I was thinking we could have someone in this room." his statement puzzled you a little.

"Steve?" you asked with a confused voice. Although Steve was his only friend, you weren't sure why Bucky wanted for him to live with you.

"No. Someone small," he said.

And it clicked. He wanted to have a baby.

"Really? You know babies are a lot of work and more."

"Yes, but the thought of a little person running around who is just like us is everything I could ever ask for." 

"I will think about it," you ended up saying as you were not sure if you were ready for a child just yet.

"Of course you can always say no. I was just...thinking."

"I promise I will think about it, okay?" you turned around in his arms, putting yours around his neck, you smiled at him as he leaned down to kiss you. After he pulled back you smiled at him again. "Now, let's go and have lunch."

Bucky followed you like a puppy followed their mother. 

He couldn't deny that you had him wrapped around your finger, not that he wanted it any other way.

Bucky used to be a miserable man, sitting alone, late at night in his office drinking expensive whiskey, thinking about his past.

Now, he was sitting down to eat lunch with his beautiful wife, thinking about the future.

Part 2

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