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jackrrabbit · 4 years

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Short Leash /// Lev x f!Reader x Alisa (18+)

Summary: [Post-timeskip] The Haiba siblings get up to no good with their favorite pet.

A/N: Lev really went from skinny goblin to sugar папочка, and don’t even get me started on Alisa 😭 Also, imma lay heavy on those Russian terms of endearment 🇷🇺 I know Lev doesn’t speak Russian but I feel like post-timeskip he might, and it makes me horny so…

Dedicated to my eternal muse @koiibito for thirsting with me and stoking my lust for this duo and to @thisisthehardestthing for providing the fashion references that brought this fic to life for me (although I still can’t describe clothing for shit). Thank you!!!

Tags/warnings: (slight) pet play, threesome, alcohol/drug use mentions, size kink (yk Lev is 6’5 and Alisa is 5’10), dom/sub, orgasm control, rough sex, filming, breath play, crying, reader is a sugar baby in denial, no incest but the siblings fuck you together, yandere-ish, established BDSM relationship, all characters are adults

They like playing dress-up.

With you, if that wasn’t obvious. They’re models, so you could say that playing dress-up is a career for them, a method of putting food on the table…and Balenciaga in the closet…and every luxury pharmaceutical known to man in the medicine cabinet. And they’re so beautiful, both of them. They look good in anything. But when it comes to you, playing dress-up is a labor of love.

Today was Alisa’s turn, which means today was red: crimson lingerie in a box she had delivered to you before the party tonight. The box…it looked so out of place propped up against the bottom of your shabby apartment door that it’s a miracle no one stole it. Black packaging, lettering in gold, and the label printed on the box was French, you think? The two years of language class you took in high school didn’t help you read it, but you had no trouble understanding the number at the bottom of the receipt Alisa included with the set.

She left it on purpose, you know that. She wants you to know that the money she dropped on these flimsy little undergarments could have paid your rent for two months. But you can’t tell her that, or she’ll just insist again that your apartment is so small and ugly, it’s not worth it, it’s high time you moved in with her and Lev already, they would love to have you, and you’d never have to worry about rent again.

Spoiling you. That’s what they call it. Sometimes you think the Haiba siblings spoil you because they know it makes you uncomfortable.

Either way, you can’t say no. You’ve tried, over and over, told them they need to stop buying you clothes and shoes and diamonds but they just laugh you off. Lev, especially—he’s got this way of tipping his head to the side and blinking down at you while you try to explain how nervous it makes you to be dripping in excess, smiling lightly like he’s watching a child throw a tantrum. They just don’t get it. Or they do, and they think it’s funny.

Yeah, it’s probably the latter. You were raised right, raised not to accept gifts like this when you have nothing to give in return—but you were also raised to be gracious to the kindness of strangers, and while they aren’t exactly strangers, it’s just too exhausting to try to deny their generosity. Over time, little by little, you’ve given inches and the Haiba siblings have taken miles.

The Haiba siblings. That’s who they are, constantly presented in juxtaposition since Lev made his debut. They were born for this, and not because of their height. It’s the eyes—something savagely beautiful about that shade of green, those pale eyelashes, the slitted pupils like a cat’s.

The lingerie was Alisa’s choice, but the dress was Lev’s which is probably why he can’t keep his hands off you at the party, grip gliding down the low back and breath ghosting over your neck every time you try to put some distance between you. He’s usually more careful than this—Alisa can get away with the playful touching (groping?) because the cameras will just play it off as friendly skinship, but if someone catches Lev stroking across your thighs or tracing those long fingers over your spine while you move together on the dance floor, there’s going to be trouble. Not that it’s your problem, but one of you has to be responsible tonight, and judging by the number of times Lev’s excused himself to go to the bathroom and come back blinking and grinning and rubbing his nose, the responsible one is going to have to be you.

This time when he returns his gelled-back hair is mussed and—Jesus, how careless can he get?—there’s a little dusting of coke spilled over the collar of his black shirt. You roll your eyes and reach up to brush it off for him but he catches your hand and lifts it to his mouth. A kiss on your inner wrist first, and then his teeth are grazing over that tender skin, blunt edges digging in and drawing dents. A bite.

It’s just on the edge of painful when you belatedly yank your hand away. “Lev—you got it on your shirt, seriously—“ You try to make your voice sound scolding, but it comes out too high.

Lev’s eyes are dark, dilated; he laughs breathlessly and nudges closer to you, trapping you between his long arms and the bar. “You want some? Kotyonok, little kitten wants a treat?”

“No…I’m just drinking tonight. I don’t want to be out too late.” The vodka soda in your hand isn’t nearly strong enough, but if you have any more you’re going to be too drunk to keep your act together and deal with their antics. You don’t have the tolerance they do, and just because they can get away with all the coke and the alcohol and whatever else they’ve been playing with tonight doesn’t mean you can.

…Not that your relative sobriety stops Lev from dragging your face up to meet his, lifting your chin with both hands wrapped around the back of your head and bending down only enough that you still have to rise up on your tiptoes to kiss him. You only catch a hint of the smell of honey before the sour-sweet taste of Lev’s favorite drink (that medovukha mead stuff, it’s Russian, you think) is filling your mouth and his long tongue is sliding over yours. “Mmph—“

“Kitten, always so good,” he sighs, pressing closer so your face has to arch up to the ceiling to meet his. In your limited view you can see the muscles in his jaw flexing as he kisses you, sweeping over your tongue, biting your lip and laughing into your mouth. “So sweet…and impatient, yeah? Want to go home with us already?”

His hand on the small of your back is bunching your dress up, giving him the space to push his knee between your legs. You gasp sharply but it just eggs him on and his mouth dips down under your jawline, his body covering yours, so sudden and so public that your eyes flash around the room, wondering who might witness Lev—the international model Lev Haiba—sucking on your throat. “L-Lev, wait, someone—someone will see—“

“You’re asking to go somewhere private? Greedy girl…Alisa’s still having fun.”

You try to come up with a response, but it’s not easy to think straight when he’s holding your waist, circling it with those big hands and petting up to your ribs, cupping your tits while his thigh rubs between your legs. You can smell his cologne, bergamot and amber, and—and—you can smell his cologne—

“Lyovochka~” Alisa’s voice rings out and you know just by hearing it that she’s had as much as Lev. Her hand fists in her brother’s hair and pulls him off your neck none too gently, ignoring his curse and complaints. “Naughty, naughty. Playing without me, were you?”

“Alisa, you’re fucking up my hair,” Lev whines, but he straightens off you, pulling Alisa into your tight little trio at the bar. “Kitty says she wants us to take her home.”

You feel your cheeks heat up and wonder if they can see the blush under your foundation. “I didn’t— I can go home myself—“ Not that you have a chance in hell of leaving the party without them, but still. You can pretend to play coy.

“No.” Alisa places a finger on your mouth to shush you and then her eyes lower and her fingernail—painted silvery white, her signature color—pushes into your bottom lip. You stumble closer, hands meeting her shoulders through the thick white padding of the jacket she’s wearing, over the glittering crystals that look blindingly bright under the blacklights.

Silver and white. Always silver and white.

Her fingernail traces down your lip, drawing a fine line on your chin; on instinct, you tip your head back to give her access to pet down your throat until she comes to a rest on the neckpiece of the harness she included with the lingerie set. When her hand reaches the ring in the center of the choker she grips it, pulling your face away from Lev’s and toward hers. “Lyovochka, what do you think…? I saw it and thought of kotyonok. A collar for our little kitten.”

“Hm, I don’t know. I need to see more.” Lev’s hands are on you again now, splaying flat over your chest before his fingers curl, one by one, around the harness strap that leads from the ring at the choker down between your breasts until it disappears under the neckline of your dress. He’s tugging on it—lightly, but you can’t deny the feeling that it’s like a leash…or the feeling of heat gathering in your pussy at having the two of them all over you like this.

You shouldn’t be letting them touch you (and they are touching you, Alisa’s hand stroking your throat and Lev tugging your side into his chest). There’s always people watching at parties like this; you’ve attended these things on Lev’s arm or Alisa’s enough times to know better than to let them do as they please. You’re supposed to be the responsible one. Too bad your body is craving a lot more than the innocuous touches they can give you in public.

You swallow and Alisa grins, dark-painted lips stretching over those perfect white teeth. “So. Kitten, would you like us to take you home? Say please.”

You don’t have to say it. You could ask yourself why you let them get away with this, why you keep letting yourself fall to the mercy of these siblings, why they even want you in the first place, but those are questions for tomorrow morning—tonight, even though you should hate it, there’s a part of you that wants to purr every time they call you kitten.

“…Please,” you murmur, and as soon as the word is out Lev’s grip on the harness tightens, pulling the choker taut around your neck.

///

They end up ripping the dress.

You kind of hate them for it when you think about how many bills you could have paid with the money they spent dolling you up for tonight. But by the time they get around to it, you’re pretty much too horny to care.

They didn’t even wait til you got home (their home, you remind yourself, not yours), although that shouldn’t have surprised you. From Alisa tugging on your hair and Lev’s arm draped possessively around your shoulders, you should’ve seen it coming, but it still takes you by surprise that the three of you have barely piled in the back of the Uber when Alisa’s dragging you to sit on her thigh, unceremoniously pulling your dress over your hips and sliding her hand up the slit where the fabric falls open to rub your pussy.

You whine and squirm but can’t quite make yourself say the word “no”, instead squeezing your eyes shut and trying to focus on Alisa whispering in your ear that you’re a good girl, getting so wet for them. All three of you can hear the squishy damp noises your pussy is making sucking around her fingers, and dear god you hope the driver can’t hear it too—wait, is he looking? Your eyes peek open, traitorously seeking out the rearview to see if there’s a possibility he’s watching the show, but before you can work up the guts to tell them to quit it, Lev’s hand is folding around your jaw again and forcing two of his fingers past your lips for you to drool on. And—fuck—Alisa’s petting over your cunt, drawing slow lines up from the wetness gathered at your hole up to your clit.

By the time you’ve reached the building Lev and Alisa are staying at in Tokyo, you’re past the point of caring that other people are around. Lev has to pull you out of the car and off Alisa’s lap to get you to stop humping your ass into her lap and trying to push your mound into her fingers. Alisa winks at the driver—probably earning herself a 5-star rating despite all your bad behavior—and then the two of them are steering you past the doorman and into the elevator.

As soon as you’ve got the barest semblance of privacy, Lev pulls your back into his chest and grinds himself into you. You can feel how hard he is, the heat of his body leaching through the fabric of your clothing directly into your skin, hands around your waist forcing you to mold yourself into him while he layers kisses over the side of you neck. “L-Lev, ah— mm, someone’s gonna come in,” you whine as he pushes the bulge of his stiff cock against your lower back, but he just lets one of his hands drift up to scratch at the choker of the harness again.

Alisa’s hands meet your cheeks on either side, framing your face for a short moment so she can study your dazed expression, the flush on your cheeks, your sex-glazed eyes. You look like you want to get fucked, you know that? You look like you want them to push you down in the elevator and fuck you right there. “But kotyonok, you’re so darling. We should let other people get a chance to see, no?”

Lev’s hand spans the breadth of your throat, not quite pressing down (yet), so he must be able to feel the way your muscles contract and release when you swallow—not to mention the edge of tension that enters your body at the thought of someone seeing you in such a compromising position. “Ahh, kitty wants to be all ours, doesn’t she? She doesn’t want us to share.”

“Is that so?” Alisa doesn’t give you a chance to answer, just tipping your face up and letting her lips close over yours. She tastes more bitter than Lev did and for the brief moment you have between getting pressed between them and your brain short-circuiting, you wonder what she’s been drinking. “Are you being selfish?”

“Nnnh, I—“ you don’t have an answer for her, but it doesn’t really matter because the elevator is dinging at the penthouse and Alisa’s pulling you away from Lev into their apartment by the center strap of the harness. You’ve got no choice but to follow, and you consider telling her to quit dragging you around by your neck but there’s something about the pressure on your throat that isn’t…entirely unpleasant, so you hold your tongue.

Lev murmurs to Alisa in Russian—you hate when they do that, especially because you know they’re only doing it because they don’t want you to understand—and then you’re in the spare bedroom, the one that the siblings insist on referring to as your bedroom. Even though you don’t live here. Even though you do everything you can to avoid staying here. Even though the only times you ever spend the night are when you’re too fucked-out by the two of them to consider putting in the effort to get home.

Something tells you this is going to be one of those nights.

They work in sync, teasing down the straps of your dress and easing you out of it until Alisa snaps the harness between your tits and Lev gets impatient and someone pulls the back of the dress a little too hard and that’s when you feel tearing. “Shit,” you hear in Lev’s voice, a soft curse in Russian from Alisa, and then a reluctant peal of laughter as the dress flutters down to the ground.

“Did you—“ You’re about to curse them out for ruining something so fucking expensive, but Lev clucks his tongue and shakes his head and you fall silent. He’s pulling back from you—so is Alisa—and your heart jumps for a second wondering if you did something wrong until you realize they’re just looking at you, drinking in the image of you naked except for the lingerie Alisa picked out for you.

“Bordelle?” Lev murmurs, running fingers down the straps cinching around your waist, the belt holding up the garters—as usual, you don’t know whether to move away from his touch or melt into it.

Alisa smiles. “It was made for her, don’t you think? Our kitten looks good in red.”

Honestly, they call you kitten, but the way they look at you is less like the way owners look at a pet and more like wolves sizing up a little lamb they’ve cornered. Hungry. Starving. You’re not sure which you prefer, but it makes you self-conscious. You’d felt pretty confident about the way you looked when you examined yourself in the mirror before the party—Alisa has good taste, even if the lingerie is just this side of bondage gear and not something you would’ve bought for yourself in a million years—but now you have to fight the urge to cover yourself up with your hands…not that they’d let you.

True to your prediction, as soon as your hand twitches with the instinct to cross your arms over your bound-up tits Lev snaps down to catch it. “Let me see,” he instructs, and the authority in his voice is so definite that your arms fall back down to your sides automatically. “Good girl. Alisa, do you think we can keep it on while we fuck her?”

While we fuck her.

He says it so nonchalantly. And it’s not like you didn’t know that’s what you’re here for. You’re a grown-up, you’re sober (ish), and you’ve been in this room with the two of them enough times that you’re well aware there was only ever one way this night was going to end up. But the way he says it makes you shiver. They’re going to fuck you…like they own you. And it’s kind of terrifying how much you want to be owned.

“I think we can get the panties off without taking off the rest,” Alisa says to respond to Lev’s question, even as she brushes a stray lock of hair away from your eyes. “Besides, I have a surprise for her.”

A surprise? It wouldn’t be the first time one of them has pulled out something unexpected in bed—last time it was a ball gag and nipple clamps, and the time before that it was a magic wand vibrator (plated in literal gold, because the Haibas are nothing if not excessive) that had you begging and crying and creaming all over the sheets. You can’t help your anxiousness as Alisa pulls something out of the otherwise-empty dresser and sets it up to face the bed.

It’s…a camera. A camera? “You want to film it?” you blurt out, your voice sounding pitchy and nervous even to your own ears.

“Great idea,” Lev says, patting your head like that’s all it’ll take to make you feel better.

“Yes, kotyonok. I’m going to film you,” Alisa replies, fiddling with the settings and batting those long blonde eyelashes at the lens once she’s satisfied.

“Wait, I—I don’t know. I’m not like you, I can’t just—” you stammer. Sure, the twins will look perfect and irresistible and bewitching, but you? You’re not sure you want to have a video of yourself getting fucked stupid in their hands. “What if I don’t want to…?”

“But I want to.” Alisa’s gaze sweeps down over you and you lower your eyes so you don’t have to meet it, don’t have to feel the weight of it holding you down more securely than any leash. There’s a reason she’s a model—she could sell anything. Those eyes. How are you supposed to say no?

You want to step back away from her. You almost try, but Lev’s at your back already, long arms draped over your shoulders, a loose hold that nonetheless keeps you from moving. So instead of backing up, you just bite your lip.

Alisa’s face softens—she’s good at that, good at picking up the cues when she’s pushed a little too far for your comfort—and a second later you feel her hand wrapping around yours, holding it. “Safeword?”

Cherry. The safeword is cherry. It’s not that you’ve forgotten. It’s her way of reminding you that you have a safeword, and you can use it, and it’ll be okay. This isn’t even a full-on scene, but Alisa must be able to sense that the addition of the camera made you scared.

Picking up the change in mood a second later, Lev’s hand finds your other one and he strokes his thumb over your skin reassuringly. God, maybe it’s wrong that they can make you feel hunted one second and adored the next, but you let out a breath and relax, shaking your head to indicate that you’re not stopping.

She brings your hand up to her mouth and kisses it so lightly her lipstick barely leaves a mark—wait, oops. You’d forgotten she was wearing lipstick. You must have it all over you by now.

“Good girl. We take good care of you, don’t we?”

“…Yes.”

“We do.” Lev’s impatient, you can tell from the way he’s adjusting his grip to your waist and pushing you over to the bed. “We’re not going to share the video, if that’s what you’re worried about. Alisa likes to joke, but really…”

Your ass hits the mattress so you’re half-sitting, half-lying on the covers, propped up on your elbows, peeking through your eyelashes at the two of them looming over you—and, oh, there they are again.

The wolves.

“…we don’t want anyone else seeing you like this,” Alisa finishes, holding up the camera and flicking the little red light on to record.

///

Lev starts, like usual. You think maybe it’s a control thing, that Alisa doesn’t let you touch her until you’re already falling apart on Lev’s fingers, his tongue…his cock. As much as she likes it when you bite back, you’re cuter when you’re begging.

She’s holding your face off the bed by a hand under your chin, wrenching your neck back so your wrecked face is level with the camera. You’re on your hands and knees—or, more accurately, your hands and elbows, with your ass arched up and Lev’s face buried in your slit. “Nngh, nnnnn, fuck please please—“ Your whining is barely coherent, but Lev knows what you’re asking for and he digs his fingers into the meat of your ass to hold you still as he latches his mouth over your clit and sucks.

Fuck— you keen and try to drop your head down to the sheets to angle your dripping cunny closer to his mouth, but Alisa’s grip on your jaw prevents you from getting any further out of the camera frame. “Uh-uh, no. I want to see you.”

“Alisa…ahhh…” Your tongue is lolling out of your mouth and you know you must look like a mess, spit practically falling over your lips as you try to stop yourself from cumming right here. Fuck, it feels good, feels so hot and wet that your juices don’t even have time to cool on your thighs before more is dripping down.

“Tell the camera what’s happening, kotyonok,” Alisa purrs, wiping the saliva off your lip and then pushing her fingers over your tongue.

“…eating me out, he’s—uhhhn—licking my pussy…” you slur around her fingers. Your glassy eyes flit between her appraising expression and the lens of the camera—even though you trust that they won’t show the video to anyone outside this room, it’s making you shudder to think about what’s on the little screen you can’t see—Alisa’s pretty silver fingernails coated in your drool as she presses them deeper into your throat, your body all bound up in red straps and gold fastenings, and Lev behind you, hair falling out of its careful style as he shoves his face deeper between your legs.

The edge of Alisa’s finger bites into the plush of your lip as you moan and unsuccessfully attempt to wriggle your ass under Lev’s grip. “Who’s licking your pussy?” she asks calmly, like she’s asking what the weather is like today.

“Lev, it’s, it’s Lev—fuck ohh, oh,” you whine as Lev slides his tongue flat from your clit up to your hole and pushes the slimy wet muscle inside. It’s so long, you’re never going to get used to how stupid long his tongue is, licking out your walls and making slurping sounds that are downright fucking vile.

Heat is gathering quickly in your abdomen, and you can feel it—that plateau rising before you hit your peak, and the tension in your thighs making them twitch and quiver as your muscles contract in anticipation—and his tongue is so long and thick it’s almost reaching your g-spot, almostalmostalmost, god-fucking-damnit. Your spine curls even further, arching yourself into him, wordlessly begging for him to keep doing exactly what he’s doing. “Gonna cum, fuck Lev please make me, make me cum!”

“Oh? Did I say you were allowed to cum?” Alisa asks, cat-like eyes narrowing.

Shit, fuck, she didn’t, but you don’t know if you can help yourself. Your hand fists in the sheet, curling your fingernails around the fabric to try to ease up the heat where Lev’s mouth is latched to your cunt. “Please Alisa—I need to—“

Alisa shakes her head. “But you don’t get to decide what you need, kotyonok.”

She’s right, but—but, it’s not fair, Lev’s switching between dragging his tongue over your clit and fucking you with it—you try to pull your hips away from his mouth but he doesn’t let you, effortlessly holding you in place while he teases you even higher.

“Who decides?” she continues, petting your jawline and wiping away the first hint of a tear from your cheek as you try to hold it back—

but you can’t.

“You-you decide! You decide when I cum!” you gasp, but your body is already betraying your words, convulsing and contracting as your climax hits you like a truck. You try to hold yourself through it but it’s impossible—your eyes roll back and arms go slack, dropping flat on the bedspread with your ass still pushed up into the air as your pussy walls contract around Lev’s tongue.

He’s still licking you—slower now at least, but you’re shaking at the feeling of him stimulating that sensitive bud. “Stop…too much,” you whine weakly, but he just raises a hand off your ass cheek to give it a light smack.

“Bad kitty,” he murmurs with his mouth still pressed against your slit, and the contact makes you seize up and twitch.

“Yes. Very bad.” Alisa doesn’t look angry—she’s never angry with you, even when you’re…disobedient, you guess—but there’s a note of mischief in her eyes that sends a thrill of fear (and not just fear) down your spine.

“S-Sorry, I’m sorry,” you whimper, but Alisa’s already pulling you upright by the ring on your choker.

“Did you cum? Even though we didn’t give you permission?” she asks, even though all three of you know you did. You nod, avoiding looking at both her and the camera as if that’ll disguise the obvious flush painting your cheeks red. At your admission, she smiles indulgently and murmurs something in Russian that you don’t understand, but you get the gist.

You’ve been naughty. And you’re going to get punished.

You hear the bedsprings squeak and feel the dip of the mattress as Lev climbs up behind you, settling his body against yours so the bulge in his pants is pressed against your back again. He’s still wearing most of his outfit from the party—they both are, and you note (not for the first time) how ridiculous it is that the siblings are willing to fuck you together but being naked in front of one another is the one boundary they won’t cross—but you don’t have to wait long before you hear him undoing his pants and pulling his cock out to rut it lazily against your back.

Automatically you shift your legs apart and reach down to finger yourself like you usually do, stretch your cunt out so you’re ready to take him. But before you can reach your pussy, Lev’s hand is folding over yours and lacing his fingers over your hand to stop you. “L-Lev?”

“No, kitty,” he tells you firmly.

You shiver. Alisa pinches your cheek and rubs over your ear. “What…”

“You already came,” Lev continues, and then you feel his cock sliding between your thighs, between your soaking-wet lips, using your cum as lubrication. “You came, so you don’t need to get ready. You’re going to take all of me, okay?”

All of him. You swallow. The full length slowly rubbing between your legs is going to go inside of you, without any preparation beforehand. “But…if I don’t, it’ll—it’s gonna hurt…”

“Yes, it’s going to hurt.” He waits for a moment, giving you a chance to say the safeword, but you don’t. “It’s going to hurt, and then it’ll feel good, and then you’re going to cream yourself on my cock like always. Yes?”

“Uh—“ You blink rapidly, already feeling his cockhead pushing between your lips toward your hole. Alisa combs your hair out of your face and you turn toward her. “Alisa?”

“Don’t ask her. You need to learn that your owners will take care of you. You need to trust us.” Lev presses in, stretching your little cunt around the thick head, and you suck in a sharp inhale.

“A-Ah—it’s too big,” you whine, scrunching your eyes shut and biting your lip as he slides himself deeper into you. And yeah, it hurts…but with how riled up you are, it definitely doesn’t hurt enough for you to want it to stop. The burn from the stretch is just making you wetter, and the feeling of being filled up by him is unbelievable. This was supposed to be a punishment, right?

Alisa cups your face to kiss you gently, and then her hands drift lower to circle your neck. Lev’s still sliding his cock into your pussy, slowly, slowly, so you can feel everything, every inch of his skin and every vein dragging against your g-spot. The deeper he gets, the more it hurts and the more you want to stop him, to take the lead—but he doesn’t let you.

“Are you going to cry, kitten?” Alisa asks you, reaching down to take one of your hands and pull it over her shoulder so you’re holding her. You grit your teeth and shudder and shake your head, making her lips quirk into a smile. “It’s alright if you cry. You’re still cute when you’re crying.”

With another roll of his hips Lev’s pushing up against your cervix and you choke out a curse. “F-Fuck, I’m not—not gonna c-c-cry…”

“Shh…” Upright on his knees behind you, Lev’s body is so big curled over yours that you feel smothered between him and Alisa. You sneak a glance back and there’s a pale pink flush over his cheeks and shoulders. “You’re taking me so well…taking my cock like that, going to make me forget you were bad…”

You stay still because it hurts more when you try to move, and you need to get yourself adjusted. You have to relax, you have to, but he’s so big, heavy and thick between your aching legs. You still haven’t recovered from cumming earlier, and every time one of the aftershocks hits you and you clench around him, the mix of pleasure and pain is almost too much. Even as aroused as you are, your cunt sucking him in for all you’re worth, he’s pushing against your cervix…and his hips haven’t even hit yours yet. He hasn’t bottomed out.

You’re going to take all of me, he said. You’re not even sure you can. But no matter what, you’re not—you’re not—gonna cry.

Until Lev pulls his hips back, sliding his cock out of you so it’s only his head sheathed at the entrance to your cunt, and then snaps forward again, filling you back up in a single stroke. He knocks into you so forcefully that you jerk forward, your chest mashing into Alisa’s. The force and his weight pulls a squeak out of you and—fuck, fuck—you feel tears welling up in your eyes.

“—t-t-too fast,” you pant, squeezing your eyes shut as if that’ll prevent them from getting glossy. The pads of Alisa’s fingers are skimming over your cheeks, and her skin is so soft and silky that you want to nuzzle in for comfort.

“But Kotyonok likes it fast, doesn’t she?…you feel how wet you are on my—my cock?” Lev’s face nudges against your shoulder, and you can feel his hands curling around your upper arms, securing you underneath him, holding you in place as he pounds into you.

You like it…like it fast? Your head is spinning, you’re dizzy and hot and feverish, Lev’s cologne is mixing with Alisa’s perfume and you feel like you’re drinking it, ugh. Fuck. Feels like you’re getting bruised up inside and it feels good. Your legs are jerking, weakly trying to push yourself back on his cock to make him fill you up deeper than your pussy can take but you’re totally at their mercy.

“Let her down, Lyovochka. I want kitty to lick,” Alisa says, looking over your shoulder to make eye contact with her brother. She shifts back on the bedspread, easing herself into the pillows and pushing the skirt of her dress up over her waist to expose her panties: mesh, lace, powder-pink. They’re so pretty against her pale skin that you just stare down at her for a second, open-mouthed, before Lev’s releasing his grip on your arms and splaying his palm into your back, shoving your face down toward her lap.

You catch yourself on your elbows—barely—but you don’t have time to adjust to the new position and how stupid fucking goddamn deep Lev’s cock is hitting you before Alisa’s pulling your face up closer to her clothed pussy and adjusting her thighs to make room. Is she going to keep the panties on? Fuck—you almost ask her to take them off but you know you aren’t allowed so you just angle your face in and let drool coat your tongue so you can try to lap at her pussy through the fabric.

The awkward angle means you can barely taste her, but fuck, what you can taste is so good—they’ve conditioned you, the two of them, conditioned you like Pavlov’s dogs to crave what they’re doing to you so badly you can’t even think. The slightly-bitter taste of her cunt soaking through to your mouth has you intoxicated. She got like this from watching you, watching you cum all over the pretty lingerie she bought you, watching you get fucked so hard you’re crying. The thought of her getting off on watching you squirm makes your pussy clench around Lev’s cock.

“Gonna cum again?” Lev asks with laughter in his voice; his pace slows, dragging out the stimulation to your g-spot right as you feel him reach down to tease over your clit. You squeak out a denial but he doesn’t believe you—and why would he when he can literally hear the nasty wet noises from your pussy eating up his cock? “Yes…you are."

“I’m—n-no, I’m noooot…”

“Poor baby, can’t control herself.” Alisa’s pushing you back into her cunt, fingernails scraping over your scalp as you desperately try to lick her pussy. “Don’t be cruel, Lev.”

Another laugh, low and raspy and juddering from the pace of his cock stretching your walls and pushing against that sweet spot inside you. “I’m not the cruel one.”

They’re both cruel, you think, but that’s the only thing going through your mind because you’re pretty sure you’re going to go fucking crazy, your pussy is so hot you feel like you’re melting around him but you keep at Alisa’s cunt because you want to be good, want to be their good girl, want to be their good little kitty.

You want to be theirs.

“Please—please, can I, can I? Please let me, please I need you to let me…” you beg—somewhere in the back of your mind you know you’re going to hate yourself for giving in to them tomorrow but you want it so so so bad and you can’t cum without their permission, you can’t, you can’t be bad again.

“Well…what do you think, Alisa? Has she earned it?” There’s a growl in Lev’s voice—is he holding himself back? Yesss… He’s slowing down, fucking you up from the inside and the outside, pulling that heat out of you, making you squeal and whine and plead just like he said he would.

You want to, you need to, need to earn it, be good make Alisa feel good earn it—fuck, you have to try harder, and you flutter your tongue over her clit through her panties as well as you can, knowing you’re being sloppy but you don’t know how to help it. She waits a long moment and then sighs, pulling her fingers through your hair, pulling it away from your face so you can look up at her, those pretty pretty eyes looking down at yours so indulgently. Adoringly. Like you’re something to be cherished. “Mm…yes.”

And that’s all it takes.

Your mouth falls open and your pussy does something, convulsing—

“—cumming I’m cumming Lev, A-Alisa—“

fuck, can’t breathe why can’t you breathe? something digging into your throat—

Lev’s, Lev’s hand under the choker dragging you upright tightening cutting off the sounds coming out of your mouth, choking your scream into a pathetic little mewl so he can hold your body up next to him while he fucks you through your climax—you can feel your face turning pink, your cunny holding around him, squeezing him so tight he can barely move but he still does, hips thrusting against your ass, the pleasure so bright and heavy you’re seeing sparks, head rushing, or maybe that’s just the lack of oxygen,

too tight the choker’s too tight you bring your hand back and tap against Lev’s and he lets go immediately. “Shit—sorry, are you alright? Can you breathe?”

You can feel him pulling out, and just that movement is enough to set off another round of clenching in your pussy. You’re sputtering, throat contracting in time with your cunt, not too painful. Just raw.

“Try to breathe, (Y/N),” Lev repeats, stroking down your back to soothe you. He sounds worried, and…that’s your name, isn’t it? It’s been a while since you heard one of them actually say your name instead of just kitten or kitty or kotyonok. It’s not like you can really bother pretending you’re not at least a little bit into the nickname, but hearing your real name out of his mouth stokes some kind of soft, nervous pleasure in you. And goddamn, you do not have the brainpower to analyze why.

It takes a moment for you to catch your breath—the air tastes sweeter than it did a minute ago—and then you roll over. “Did...did you cum?”

Lev shakes his head. You turn toward Alisa, and she just pats your cheek—of course she didn’t cum. Which means you’ve gotten to cum twice, and you didn’t get either of them off.

You bite your lip, turn to the side, and try not to let your eyes water for the—third? fourth?—time tonight. “I’m sorry, I—I’ll do it again, I’ll be better—“

“No,” Alisa says gently, adjusting her position to sit next to you and kiss your forehead. “You were so good, (Y/N).”

Lev mirrors her actions on the other side so you’re bracketed by the two of them. After a second of stillness to gauge your comfort, he starts undoing the clasps at the back of the choker and massaging his fingers over the tender skin underneath. You sniffle and then feel him lay his chin on the top of your head, arrange his arm over your side. “It’s okay,” he murmurs. “You know we like you no matter what, right?”

Alisa nods in agreement, pupils coming to a rest on the skin of your throat as she helps Lev remove the tangle of red satin straps from your body. “Our perfect little kitten. Who’s a good girl?”

Kitten.

Your stomach drops. Not your name. Just kitten.

It must be the twentieth time she’s called you that tonight, but somehow this time it’s different. You cringe, feeling cold where she touches you, but that doesn’t stop her from wiping away the smeared mascara and tear tracks from your cheeks. When you try to flinch away from her, Lev huffs out an annoyed breath and pushes you back into place. “Myesto. Stay.”

It’s a command. Like you would give to an animal. When you freeze, Alisa smiles and then she’s tilting your chin up with her fingers and bringing the camera—the camera, you forgot about the camera—to your throat so she can capture the mess of pink lines and indentations from where the choker bit into your neck…

…and who are you kidding? It’s not a choker, it’s a fucking collar. And you’re not their lover, or their girlfriend, or even their fuckbuddy.

You’re their pet.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #lev haiba x reader #alisa haiba x reader #yandere haikyuu #haiba lev x reader #haiba alisa x reader #yandere haikyuu x reader #lev haiba #haiba lev #alisa haiba #haiba alisa #haikyuu #lev x reader #alisa x reader #haikyuu spoilers #hq x reader #hq imagines #yandere

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yeojaa · 4 years

Note

GIRL we need a devil in a new suit drabble where jungkook gets jealous pls bless us😭😭❤️

[ read devil in a new suit ]

pairing. jjk x f!reader. rating. explicit. tags. kook being hilarious and naive, reader being a little frustrated but head over heels, smut in the form of: titty sucking (kook is a big boob guy in this), cunnilingus, kook wanting to love you forever. wc. 2.1k. author note. i am... so in love with this couple so what was meant to be a “kook gets jealous and breaks reader’s back” turned into... this.

Jeon Jungkook doesn’t get jealous. Not because he doesn’t care, or he’s unaffected, or any other negative connotation under the sun. He doesn’t because he’s him, too soft and sweet and silly to believe the worst in people. (This, coming from the man who’d steered clear of dating apps and blind dates because he was worried he’d be hurt.)

Once, you’d been waiting for him to pick you - he’d been running late, dinner with his parents and younger sister - and he’d found you chatting politely to an old fling of yours. Well, maybe not so old. A recent fling, a friend of sorts. Someone who’d swanned into your life during your college years and had remained there ever since, popping his head in from time to time.

You’d always been on good terms, caught up for lunch every six months or so when he’d return home from his overseas job. In the past, you’d found familiarity in the shape of his hands, the neon outline of his almond eyes and pouting lips. He was good in bed, as charming between the sheets as he was on the street.

But your heart belonged to Jungkook now - had, before you’d even realised it - and Taewoo was just another guy. Another face in a crowd.

Still, you’d thought your beloved boyfriend would have some sort of reaction. Maybe a quirk of his perfectly groomed brows, a certain tightness belying his displeasure in the softly peaked bow of his mouth. You’d spied neither after extracting yourself from the hug and waving goodbye. Jungkook had been sunshine and sweetness, opening your door for you and stamping a kiss to your cheek.

That night, he’d loved you how he always had, with you crying his name and making a mess of his sheets.

Another time, you’d been at a work function. One of those ridiculous galas you loved, full of women in their highest heels and men in their swankiest watches. (You’d worn Aquazzura that night, Jungkook with an Audemars Piguet loose around his wrist.)

He’d stuck close to your side, far more interested in the way your dress hugged your figure, cut intimidatingly high over your thigh and revealed the swell of your ass at juuuust the right angle. Yejin had been the only one to tear him away, insisting on shots that you knew she couldn’t handle. Anything went if free booze was involved.

Thirty minutes later - give or take, since you hadn’t had a watch of your own on - your boyfriend had returned, flushed and adorable. There’d been a garden of colour creeping over the expanse of his chest, peeking around the collar of his shirt and disappearing into his neatly tousled strands. He’d giggled his way back to you, somehow completely oblivious to the man that’d found you at your table and settled himself into the spot labelled Jeon Jungkook.

The imposter had been affronted, gaze narrowed at the younger man who was a little too loose, a little too smiley. Wholly out of place at an event like this, where people spent too much time up their own asses, noses held aloft and business cards exchanged.

(One of the reasons you loved Jungkook so much. He was a breath of fresh air in a world you thrived in - found humour in, at the very least - carrying you high above the clouds with the sound of his laughter.)

“Hi, baby.” Your darling boy smothered you in kisses, traced them up and over the exposed expanse of your shoulder, nosing against your skin, utterly unbothered by the man shooting him daggers, wishing him ill from the spot he’d wrongly claimed.

Of course, he’d thought Jungkook was making a point - claiming what was his - but that was so far from the truth you’d almost laughed when he’d spoken, voice carrying above the slightly laboured breaths of your lover. “I guess that’s my cue to leave, huh?”

You’d smiled, nodded with a hand threaded into cornsilk curling over Jungkook’s nape. “Looks like it.”

(Then your idiot love - your big-hearted moron, your doe-eyed baby - had come up for air, cheek resting in the palm of his hand. “Where’s your friend?” He’d asked, eyes so wide you couldn’t doubt the sincerity of his question.)

Such was the kind of person Jungkook was, with an unwavering belief in the goodness of others, a silver thread outlining everyone’s silhouette. You sometimes wondered what it would take to drive him to any sort of displeasure, any sort of emotion beyond quiet melancholy (seldom seen but heavily felt, when the rare occasions rose) or easygoing amicability (his default setting). Not that you’d ever push to see that, of course.

You were happy. Hopelessly in love. You wouldn’t have traded him for the world - couldn’t even fathom doing anything to hurt him.

And yet, you discover albeit by accident - it’s really not that hard. All it takes is a pretty girl.

“This looks incredible,” she says, standing close, long dark hair falling in a fluid curtain down the line of her back. It’s the loveliest shade, cool-toned beneath the boutique lights, and reflects colour like a waterfall. You’d complimented her on it when you’d stepped into the fitting area, a handful of hangers set across the rolling rack.

Fingers smooth over embroidery, revelling in the feeling of it over your skin. It’s a beautiful thing, black tulle that hangs to your fingertips. Not Jungkook’s preferred style - he much prefers harnesses and so many straps it might as well be a cat’s cradle - but you think he loves it nonetheless.

(You’d confirm, but he’s been stoically silent, seated in the plush chair tucked beside the privacy partition, normally soft gaze hard and trained on his phone. He doesn’t seem very much in the mood to talk, hardly reacting with each outfit change. A nod here, a smile there. Not even the most scandalous of the options - a black corset decorated in Leavers lace - had elicited his usual enthusiasm.)

“You think so?” You’re not insecure about your body - know what it looks best in, which assets to play up. Still, it’s nice to hear from someone other than your doting boyfriend, the people caught in your orbit.

The sales associate nods, beams at you in the multiple mirrors. A hand of her own drifts over the thin strap of the slip - an innocent gesture that dislodges wayward strands of hair from beneath. “Of course— and I’m not just saying that because I’m trying to sell it.”

You nod, satisfied. Even if Jungkook doesn’t seem ecstatic, your own joy makes up for it, buyer’s delight spilling over. “I’ll take the satin robe, the blush silk set, and this in the violet.”

“Great choices,” she hums, pulling back the curtain to the adjoining change room to allow you privacy. Silence follows as you slip the delicate number off, returning it to its hanger. You don’t expect when the brunette continues speaking - presumably to your surprisingly surly boyfriend. “Don’t you agree?”

“Yep.” He’s never been a man of few words, usually so full of excitement that he rambles when he doesn’t mean to.

It’s a dead giveaway - a confirmation that something’s wrong.

Unfortunately for you, you don’t have time to broach the subject, your purchases already paid for and a firm hand on the small of your back the moment you’ve stepped out of the dressing stall. “Jungkookie?” You mean it quietly, just for the two of you, but falter when he slots his fingers between yours and all but tugs you out of the boutique. You hardly even have a chance to toss the helpful girl an apologetic smile, imposing glass swinging shut behind you.

“Men—men are fine. I don’t have to worry about them.” There’s a confidence you’re so proud to see, turning his words as solid as the weight that rests against your hip, sears burning heat into your bared skin. “No other man is going to love you better than me. But women?” A shudder runs the length of his imposing frame, tugs his shoulders up to his ears and tingles the small of his back. “Women are scary.” (It’s a sentiment he’s echoed in the past. In particular, months ago when you’d insisted he dive into the dating scene.)

Hands thread through his too-soft strands, twirl the ends around your fingers as he speaks, nearly muffled into the crook of your shoulder. He’s being so tender, giving you all the love he has to offer as he writes his insecurities into your skin, offers them with the wet of his tongue.

“A woman might sweep you off your feet and steal you away.”

You laugh then - sound snapping past your teeth before you can tuck it away. It filters loudly into the baies scented candle you’d lit when you’d gotten into his apartment.

Jungkook whines in response - a terribly endearing sound that makes you roll your eyes but only with affection (always with that) - and buries his face into your tits, sucking your nipple into his mouth with complete disregard for the tulle that acts as a barrier. Saliva stains the material, makes it stick to your hardened bud as he laves over it with his tongue - bites surprisingly gently - and tugs it just hard enough to have you keening.

“S-s’not funny,” he huffs, palming your other breast in his broad tattooed palm. When he continues, he bites into you like he’s got a personal vendetta against whatever lies beneath your flesh. “She was flirting with you.”

It’s less of a sigh of annoyance - more sensual, drowning in need. “She was not.”

He nips at the delicate flesh again, spreads crimson marks all across the sensitive skin until it’s a mosaic beneath the fabric, his finest work painted by his second favourite brush. “That’s what you think but she was.” The hand previously kneading your skin drops, flat of his palm sliding easily over your bare pussy.

There’s zero hesitation when he slots his fingers on either side of your clit, catches the delicate pearl against the webbing of his hand and applies pressure that has you bucking beneath him. It’s not nearly as aggressive as he normally is but it’s just as good, paired with the sinful motions of his tongue and teeth.

“She wants to be the one doing this,” he continues, saliva pooling across your chest, slipping into the valley of your breasts only to be licked up by the flat of his tongue. He continues even once you’re clean, skin sticky and a little gross but so erotic it makes you quiver. Then he descends, pushes the hem of your new slip higher, and licks another stripe from the joint of your thigh up to your belly button. Repeats it again, moving lower with each pass until he’s sucking your clit into his mouth. “She wants to be the one tasting this pretty, pretty pussy.”

You reach for his hand - the one somewhere near your ribs, side of his wrist soothing against the ladder of bones - and tangle your fingers together as he drives you mad, tip of his tongue switching between sweet kitten licks and tantalising figure eights.

“Baby,” you coax, reprimand almost. Jungkook’s never this lenient, never this sweet on you (not inside the bedroom, at least). It brings you to a different high, his love folded into lovely origami cranes you tuck into your pockets and the spot you’ve carved out for him within your chest.

“Sing for me, sweetheart.”

He doesn’t mean literally - refers instead to the sound of your voice when it leaps three octaves, bounces between sultry and singed, burnt at the edges by the fire he brings to life.

“Tell me you’ll never leave me.” Despite how the words muffle, come broken between the glide of his tongue within your fluttering walls, you can hear the sincerity in them. The earnestness that begs you to promise him this simple thing. “Not for her. Not for anyone.”

“I won’t leave you,” you answer, threading the vow between your fingers as if they’re the thread binding your love story together. “Not for her - not for anyone.”

#anon.eml #bts drabble #bts imagine #bts au #bts fluff #bts smut bts jungkook #jungkook #jeon jeongguk #jeon jungkook #jungkook au #jungkook drabble #jungkook imagine #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #incoming.eml #work.zip #drabble.zip #devil.doc #jungkook.doc

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trashmenofmarvel · 4 years

Text

Branded - Chapter 49

Pairing: Demon!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You begin your new normal, and come up with a new plan. Bucky likes it decidedly less than the last one.

(This is a fan AU of Falling’s Just Another Way to Fly by araniaart . Please check out this incredible series for all of your demon Bucky needs.)

Chapter Warnings: Mild explicit content, sexual tension, angst, Bucky being Bucky

AO3

Knowing that Bucky was fine with your extreme changes was comforting, but you weren’t willing to live with it. Not until you tried everything you could. After all, there was your mother to think about, and you weren’t sure she could survive the shock of finding out her daughter was a wizard/pseudo-demon.

After you asked Bucky to contact Strange, you both arrived via portal and went into his office. Before Bucky could get a word in edgewise, you shoved your notepad against Strange’s chest, glaring at him until he read everything you’d written down.

Strange pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

“First off,” he muttered, “there’s no need to threaten to tear me limb from limb if I put Sergeant Barnes back into the cryo-chamber. The chamber is beyond repair, and there is no more use for it, anyway. And while I appreciate your honesty in regards to… this latest feeding… as long as you’re not in an enslaved bond, I’m willing to change the terms of the Ancient One’s agreement. So, moving forward, please do not inform me of what the two of you do in privacy.”

Bucky choked from somewhere behind you; in hindsight, you probably should have warned him what you were going to tell Strange.

“And secondly, I will continue your education myself. If,” Strange added with a raised finger, “you agree to remain in the Sanctum for the time being. You are going to be exposing yourself to magical energies, and I want to view the effects they have on your current state firsthand. I will not bend on this point.”

Your tail lashed like a whip, and you were very tempted to reach back and grab it. Now you understood how Bucky must feel when his tail misbehaved.

You also resisted the urge to look back at Bucky with big puppy-eyes in hopes he would convince Strange to let him stay as well. But you didn’t. You needed to prove that you could do this without having your hand held. What happened to you in the demon realm was traumatic, you wouldn’t deny that, but you couldn’t let Bucky coddle you forever, either.

You gave a firm nod while looking Strange in the eye. There was another reason you wanted to be taught to harness whatever was inside you. A reason Strange didn’t need to know. A reason that had everything to do with Helmut Zemo.

The next month you spent in near isolation, only seeing Strange for lessons and glimpsing other sorcerers when you went to the library. When you weren’t in your lessons, that’s where you spent most of your time. Suffice it to say, you’d been fired after not calling in for a full week (you couldn’t really explain that you’d been kidnapped to Siberia), but that worked fine for you. The Sanctum and lessons were quickly becoming your life, and even Bucky didn’t see you as often as he probably liked.

You certainly missed him. Missed his scent and his touch and even just his comforting presence. But you couldn’t let yourself be distracted, not for a single night and not even for Bucky. You were doing this for him and for you.

Unlike before, when you couldn’t even create a spark, under Strange’s guidance you could now create ropes of fire and bursts of light from your hands. You couldn’t create a portal, not since the disastrous moment you accidentally sliced a demon in half, but Strange only patted you on the shoulder and said, “Perhaps it best we leave portals for the more advanced lessons.”

But one area you were excelling at was sensing and harnessing energies. Every night before bed, you turned that focus inward, imagining the demonic energy inside you being expelled back to the realm it came from. According to the laws of magical equilibrium, the alien energy would want to return to its natural state, which apparently was a sort of UV ray that came from the sun of that realm.

You didn’t really understand it when Strange explained it to you—hell, you didn’t have a grasp of most things he said—but you could get the gist of it. And lucky for you, you seemed to have a natural talent for magic now that you were “unblocked,” as he called it.

So when you woke up one morning and most of your demonic features had vanished, you were pleased but not too surprised. You’d thrown yourself into magical studies more than you’d done even in college, and it was showing. If only your mom could see you now.

Or… perhaps not. There were some parts of you that hadn’t changed, and you glared at your horns and tail with a frown. You’d have to start cutting holes in your pants from now on, not to mention learn how to guise yourself in public. A small price to pay for being able to speak again. Demonic Cats: The Musical had taken a curtain call.

Still, you didn’t complain, but nor did you lighten up on your studies. You were searching for something very, very specific in those dusty shelves of the archives, and when you couldn’t find it, you knew only one place to seek your answers.

When it was mid-March and the show outside had melted, most of the sorcerers were either on the rooftop or away from the Sanctum. It was the only chance you’d get, and now that you had a feel for sensing magic, you were confident you could find the vault a second time.

Without a hobgoblin to guide your way, it took you much longer to find the familiar stone staircase spiraling into the depths of the earth. You followed it with more confidence and less fear than the first time even as your heart thudded in your chest. Strange hadn’t told you not to come down here, and technically you were part of the Mystic Arts, so you had every right to explore your new home.

At least, that’s what you told yourself, standing in front of the massive door that guarded the vault. And to your eternal surprise, when you wrapped your hands around the handle and pulled, it opened with a loud groan.

Exhaling, you squeezed through the opening and came to an abrupt stop on the other side, forgetting to take a breath as you stared with wide eyes.

The room was empty.

All of it, gone. The creepy statues and mounted heads. The cabinets full of demonic body parts. You stepped into the middle of the room to confirm what your eyes were telling you. Only the lectern remained, empty and dusty as if the book that used your blood for ink had never been there.

Bracing your hands on your hips, you swore under your breath. Now how the hell were you supposed to—

“I told Strange what you found the last time you were down here.”

You whirled around, your tail sticking straight out and fluffing up to twice its normal thickness.

Bucky stared at you, his tone just as devoid of humor as his sharp eyes.

“So, he had everything moved just in case you went looking for it again.” He strode forward, his boots tapping softly on the stone floor, his guise retained as it usually was when he visited the Sanctum.

The slow, predatory walk had you soon backed away. You weren’t afraid, you were just… slightly intimidated.

“Why are you down here?” Bucky continued to walk toward you.

“I—“ Your voice cracked, something it still did after so long of disuse. “I was… doing research.”

“Yeah?” His voice was flat. “What could you possibly need to know that would require the Book of the Dead?”

Your back hit the edge of the lectern and your stomach fluttered when he didn’t stop in his approach.

“You seem to be doing just fine with Strange’s lessons,” Bucky said, eyes roving over your body, leaving both heat and a chill in its wake. “You managed to change back.”

“Mostly.” You cleared your throat so you wouldn’t sound like a frightened mouse. “Bucky, I… I was going to tell you. I’ve just, been busy.”

“Busy, huh?”

He stepped closer, only a few feet away when he tilted his head.

“If Strange is being so thorough with his lessons, then why hasn’t he taught you how to sense when something is following you?”

With Bucky’s last few steps, his guise melted away, wings half-flaring over his back as his eyes darkened. He loomed over you, bending down to growl in your ear.

“The next demon stalking you might not be so friendly.”

You closed your eyes, fighting yourself, but your shallow breathing and the goosebumps along your skin gave you away. There was definitely something wrong with you. Normal people did not get so hot and bothered from the idea of being hunted down by a demon, even if said demon was your kind-of-boyfriend.

“I assure you, I can take care of myself just fine.” You almost said it without a hitch in your breath, too.

Bucky pulled back, brows raised.

“Want me to show you?” you pressed.

He studied your face for a moment, and then gave a shrug and said, “Sure.”

Your lips twitching was all the warning he got before there was a conjured, fiery rope in your hand, whipping him across the chest and throwing him back several feet. Only his flaring wings kept him upright as he skidded across the floor.

There was a flash of approval, and oh God, excitement in his eyes as he licked his lips. You didn’t know if he was trying to distract you, or if he genuinely wanted to sink his teeth into you.

You wanted to find the answer and see how far you could push him. It was about time you put your skills to use on a real demon, anyway.

When his wings flared and his tail danced in delight behind him, you prepared yourself for Bucky’s attack—and it was good that you did. He crossed the distance between you in a blur, and you barely had time to move your hand in a circle in front of your chest.

An orange, concentric circle formed out of thin air, and it vibrated when Bucky’s human fist collided with it. He was still holding back, but that hit would have probably knocked you out cold.

Okay, you thought, watching him with a tilt of your head. You think you can pull your punches with me?

You shoved your palm against the makeshift shield, and the lines unfolded and wrapped around Bucky’s legs and chest, pulling his limbs together in a series of fiery ropes, and he shouted in surprise as he tumbled to the ground. His wings were useless, caught in the same trap against his back, and you stood over him in triumph.

“Neat little trick you’ve got there,” Bucky commented casually as he tried to wriggle out of his bindings. “Won’t hold me forever.”

“I know.” You smiled, and Bucky gave you his strongest side-eye. Your shit-eating grin only increased in size. “Don’t need it to hold you forever.”

You stood over him, a foot to either side, and you sat on his stomach, straddling him and probably looking like the cat that ate the canary. The tail flickering behind you didn’t help.

Bucky predictably went still, a mixture of interest and exasperation on his face.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing.” You leaned down and half-laid on top of him, tucking your head into his shoulder. “Just enjoying this strapping young demon I’ve captured.”

“Young?”

“…strapping, then.”

Bucky snorted, and you dug your face deeper into his neck, reveling in his rich, calming smell. You licked him, teasing at first, but then with genuine interest.

“You gonna, uh… let me up?” He shifted under you, which was exactly the wrong thing to do, because now the growing bulge in his jeans was pressed right between your legs.

“Mmmm-no. You said you can get loose, I want to see it.”

But it wasn’t the ropes you were paying attention to when you sucked on his neck. Bucky groaned low in his throat. Both of you had forgotten about the ropes, and Bucky seemed oddly comfortable with them.

An option you might have to explore another time.

“You really want to test these bindings out, huh?” he growled, flexing his muscles as he suddenly strained against them. You nearly purred, appreciating the view of his armored bicep.

“Well, I gotta have something to show for all this training.” You went quiet, then, resting your cheek against his shoulder. “I miss you. I’m sorry I’ve been so distracted.”

“And I miss you, but I’m not going to give you a hard time for this. Not after what you’ve been through.” He turned his head just enough to press his lips to your temple. “Monster misses you too, you know.”

You lifted up, getting a good look at him.

“What? He… he came back?”

“He did. Hours after you moved back into the Sanctum.”

You didn’t know what to say. Monster had been missing ever since you… ever since Zemo shot you. Apparently, he’d been at the Sanctum when you went missing and had been an absolute nightmare to the sorcerers.

And then when the rescue mission failed to bring you back…

“How…” You swallowed. “How is he?”

To your surprise, Bucky rolled his eyes.

“A pain in my ass. He thinks he’s a lapdog. Every time I sit down, he jumps on me, kneading me with his claws like I’m mama cat.”

“Sounds like I’m being replaced,” you said, smiling as you leaned your head on his shoulder again.

“Nah. More like he thinks sucking up to me is gonna get you back sooner. Which… I’m all for that.” He brushed his lips against your hair, but your smile faded at his next words. “You will be coming home eventually… right? Because that place, my place, it’s yours too.”

You sat up again, avoiding his eye. As much as you wanted to take him up on that offer, and you did, so badly…

“Sweetheart?”

“I can’t. Not yet.”

Bucky’s voice was so soft it hurt when he said, “Can I ask why?”

Releasing a breath and closing your eyes, you knew you had to tell him. Otherwise he would just blame himself, and Bucky’s next question confirmed it.

“Is it because of… of Zemo?” He said the name like it was vile poison in his mouth.

“Yes. But not in the way you think,” you added when he blinked up at you in surprise. “It’s not me I’m worried about, Bucky.”

His eyes narrowed, scanning your face once before he looked around the room, as if just remembering where you were.

“Why did you come down here?”

You worried your lip, and Bucky watched the movement with growing suspicious. You didn’t want to tell him, not because you enjoyed keeping secrets—in fact, you had been enjoying the healthy communication between you lately—but Bucky really, really wasn’t going to like it.

“I came down here because I need to answer a question. A question that Zemo himself shed some light on.”

You focused on Bucky’s jacket zipper, fidgeting with it rather than meeting his eye.

“And… what question would that be?”

You took a deep breath. Fuck, here it goes.

“How do you prevent a free demon from being enslaved again?”

Bucky’s brows dipped.

“Okay,” he said slowly. “So you… what, wanted to be trained in magic so you could protect me? That’s… I wouldn’t ask you to do that, but I appreciate the thought. Still not sure why that involves the Necronomicon.”

“There’s more,” you said with a wince at Bucky’s scowl. “It’s not just that, though getting better at magic is part of it.”

“I’m not going to like this, am I?”

“Probably not. No.”

Bucky shifted under you like he was getting more comfortable, but his tone was extremely put-out.

“Let’s hear it, then. How do you prevent a freed demon from being enslaved again?”

“Well, you see…” You fidgeted again. Bucky may have been the one still tied in fire ropes, but you got the sense you were the one being dangled over a pit. “I already know the answer. I’m not sure how to… execute it.”

Bucky frowned.

“Execute what? Sweetheart, you’re starting to talk like a sorcerer, and you know how much I love that.”

You smiled a little, but it quickly faded again.

“All right. I’ll tell you my plan, but please, leave your questions to the end,” you said, trying to keep it lighthearted, but the gears in Bucky’s head were turning at the words my plan. You cleared your throat and continued.

“Now, the thing about free demons is you can’t protect them from being enslaved. Only demons bonded to a master are protected. Zemo said it himself; in fact, it was one of his selling points.”

Bucky scowled but didn’t interrupt you.

“He said if you were bonded to him, he could protect you from any HYDRA shitbags still hanging around. And… unfortunately, he had a point. It’s only a matter of time until someone else stumbles upon an old lab or a journal or whatever, and then they’ll be coming after you. Everyone knows about the Winter Soldier. Even if the world still believes he’s dead, that didn’t stop Zemo.”

Bucky’s scowl had vanished, his expression unreadable as he listened.

“So…” you continued, trying not to sweat. “If you were bonded to someone you trusted, someone who could protect you, that could be one way of doing it—“

“That’s why you’re training so hard?” he asked softly. “You would be willing to put a huge target on your back like that? Having me bonded to you?”

“Well,” you spluttered, face heating. So much for reprimanding Bucky for not keeping his questions until the end. “I wanted to be in the running, at least. I’m not exactly a threat compared to others you could choose from.”

“You mean Steve. I… actually talked to him about it already.” Now it was his turn to look away. “He said he’d be willing to if it’s what I wanted. It’s not what I want, but I still have to consider it.”

Bucky finally looked at you when you neglected to speak, and he rushed to say, “It’s different with a human master, it wouldn’t be like our pact at all. I don’t have to feed on him. It’s more fulfilling if I do feed on my master, but by no means is it necessary. I wouldn’t—I wouldn’t leave you to be with Steve, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

It was exactly what you were thinking, and you were so thrown off course that you floundered. Of course, you’d considered that Steve would be a good candidate, but you hadn’t realized Bucky had already had a discussion.

“Are you considering it?” The sudden lump in your throat made it difficult to speak. “Being bonded to him?”

He gave a soft smile, the kind that always held a bit of sadness.

“I was going to talk to you first, ask you for your input before I decided. Just didn’t get a chance until now. I hope you know I wouldn’t make a decision like that without you. Especially considering what happened last time I kept you in the dark.”

Whatever insecurities and jealousy lingered in your heart evaporated, and you put a hand on his chest, wishing you could express exactly how you felt. How much you loved him and didn’t blame him for any of what happened.

But like so many moments, you found words weren’t enough, and you just had to hope your actions communicated what you felt.

“Whatever you want to do, Bucky, I’ll support you.” You squinted at him and tapped him on the chest. “And what happened to me is not your fault. Zemo was watching us for a long time, and he would have found a way to use me against you eventually. I’m just grateful it turned out the way it did. Could have been a lot worse.”

“A lot worse than you dying and going to the demon realm?”

You folded your hands over your chest.

“I could have died and stayed dead.”

Bucky opened his mouth, hung there for a moment, and then closed it again. You waited for him to continue arguing, and instead, he changed the damn subject.

“You said that could be one way of doing it. There’s other ways?”

Hell, and what a subject change, too. For a moment, you really did consider lying, or at least telling him the other option was off the table if Steve was a choice. He was a safer option—that was without a doubt.

But you couldn’t lie to Bucky, or hold back. Not after everything. So you took a deep breath and pushed on.

“While I came up with that answer, I wasn’t satisfied with you being enslaved again, even if it was to me or Steve. So I tried to search for other solutions. In the archives, on the wizard internet, even Wong’s private stash of books.”

“There’s a wizard internet?”

“Bucky, please.”

“Sorry,” he said, not at all sorry. “Keep going.”

“I wanted to find a way for you to be as free as possible, without the danger of enslavement, and then… I had a thought.” You took a deep breath. “I thought… what if there’s a way to make the human-demon relationship equal?”

“…Come again?”

“The demon-human bond is always a power imbalance, right?” you said, excitement rushing your words. “Either the human enslaves the demon, or the demon owns the human. There’s no partnership. No equal exchange. No symbiosis.”

“Symbiosis.”

“It’s a term in biology.”

“Yes, sweetheart, I know what it means. I don’t think biology is going to help us here.”

“No, you’re right,” you muttered. “Which is why I needed a magical solution in order to create a soul-bound that’s equal from both sides.”

The truth finally hit home. Bucky’s eyes widened.

“No.”

“Bucky—“

“Absolutely fucking not.”

“I haven’t even told you the plan yet!”

“Does it involve you being bonded to me?”

You took a second too long to answer.

“Thought so,” he growled. “No fucking way am I ever doing that to you again.”

“You wouldn’t be! I told you, it would be an equal partnership, not—“

You yelped as the bindings shattered and Bucky rose at the same moment. You would have fallen flat on your ass if he hadn’t grabbed you by the arms and pulled you to your feet.

“Listen to me,” he said, face inches away. “You drop this line of thinking right now. You will not go looking into binding magic, and you will stay far away from anything demonic. Do you hear me? Tell me you understand and you won’t keep looking!”

You glared up at him. The full weight of his anger glared back, his wings rustling as his tail lashed back and forth.

“No.”

He bared his teeth at your refusal, a growl escaping from his throat. You didn’t flinch, though your tail betrayed you as the fur puffed out like a startled cat.

“Snarl all you want, it won’t change my mind.”

“You’re talking about experimental magic.” His gaze grew harder as his claws tightened around your arms. “Magic that Strange himself wouldn’t attempt. What makes you think you could survive, let alone succeed?”

Now it was your turn to bare your teeth, though they were blunted and human again. You almost missed the sharp canines.

“I summoned a portal to the demon realm when I was ten years old. I adapted to that same place, became more demon than human just to survive. I died and came back to life because of demonic magic.”

You met his eye, unblinkingly.

“Who else could do this but me?”

Bucky said nothing, his expression unreadable. You released a breath and let your voice soften.

“The Ancient One was adamant on three things. She wanted me to train with the leader of her order. She said you and I were very important to each other. And she told me that I would have to make a choice. A choice that would affect the both of us.”

You turned your hands so they were placed against his forearms. Bucky still hadn’t moved, but there was something like growing horror in his eyes.

“I know this is what she meant. This feels right. Like I’ve finally found my purpose. This is what I’m meant to do.”

“And what is that?” he asked, slowly, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop. And there was another shoe. A big shoe. A shoe he was going to hate, but you wouldn’t hide it from him. It was only a matter of time before he found out, anyway.

“Everyone in the Order has their strengths,” you said. “Wong is the archivist and keeper of knowledge. Strange has an innate understanding of time and prophecy. The Ancient One, according to Strange, had a deep connection to the Dark Dimension.”

“And you?”

You swallowed dryly.

“I have… a strong affinity for magic that comes from the demon realm.”

He jerked away, as if contact with your skin burned him. Before you could stop him, Bucky turned and practically fled from the vault, disappearing out the massive door without looking back.

You released a breath as your tail sank to rest on the dusty floor. The words of the Ancient One rang in your ears, and you wished she hadn’t been right. If Bucky had been on your side, you wouldn’t have cared who else disagreed. But maybe that was the point.

It wasn’t supposed to be easy. No test ever was. You just didn’t appreciate that you still had to prove yourself after all this.

Hadn’t dying and going to Hell been enough?

Your heart as heavy as the stones at your feet, you left the empty vault.

Next Chapter

#bucky barnes x reader #branded #demon!bucky barnes #demon!bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #my writing #my fanfiction

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fandom-necromancer · 4 years

Text

A thing of beauty

I stumbled about this post of @isibakeoven and I just had to write it! I hope you enjoy!

Fandom: Cyberpunk 2077 | Characters: nomad!V, Johnny and more

‘How could this even happen?’ ‘I don’t think I have to tell you of all people how something like this can happen’, V spoke loud for once. They were alone in their apartment, so why bother? V smiled, petting Nibbles laying next to her on the ground while the small kittens tried to clumsily climb on her outstretched legs. ‘No shit, V. I meant that this is now happening on top of everything else! We are supposed to get rid of the chip, save your life. And now we have to look after… kittens?’ ‘They are cute though.’ ‘Damnit, V.’ The construct likely had wanted to sound frustrated, but there was a certain softness in his voice too. ‘They look all wrinkly…’ ‘Don’t listen to him’, V chuckled and lifted up one of the tiny cats that had repeatedly tried and failed to get a good grip on her pants. ‘You are perfect.’ ‘Well, we can’t keep them. They will grow up and need more space. And I doubt some mercenary that could die any given day could take care of them.’ V sat the little one down on her lab and watched amused as it tried to get underneath her jacket. ‘Didn’t know you would care this much.’ ‘Hell, V, what do you think of me? Who doesn’t like cats?’

V couldn’t help but grin as Johnny sat down next to her, watching the kittens mill about with a tiny smile on his lips. He was right, of course. Even Nibbles herself had been a heat of the moment decision and it was better than leaving her out on the streets. They couldn’t keep them all. But what should they do with them? ‘You could sell them to some rich corpos’, Johnny shrugged. ‘I mean, we would make a fortune with real cats and they would have a nice home with everything they could ever need.’ And that was coming from someone who hated these people. It made V think about it, but ultimately their guts told them no. ‘Fine, any other idea then?’ V watched the kittens play and sighed deeply. Who in this rotten world could they trust still? And who could take good care of a cat? Instinctively a few names popped up in their head. ‘Really? Your mercenary friends?’ Johnny asked. ‘Come on, they are as bad as you are. And don’t you dare give one to- You’ve already made up your mind, right?’ V chuckled. ‘Yes. Once they are old enough, it’s time for a roadtrip!’

The meows of the kittens in the box on the passenger seat were almost heart wrenching, but they had grown quite a lot already and begun to rearrange what little furniture V had in their apartment. Besides, V knew they would find a loving new home. ‘But that’s not your only reason, is it?’, Johnny asked from the backseat. ‘It isn’t and you know that, you are in my brain’, V sighed and stopped at the red light. ‘So what? You really want me saying it out loud?’ ‘Maybe so you know it’s bullshit. I won’t let you die, V, and that’s final.’ ‘Even if we find a solution for the chip that works – and I highly doubt that – as you said, I could die any other day. Might as well give my friends something to remember me. Something good in a world that doesn’t give a fuck about you.’ ‘Hell, you’re getting my level’s of cynic here…’ ‘So far I haven’t had the urge to blow up a building yet, so I would say I’m good for a few more days.’ ‘Har, har’, the construct laughed sarcastically, but continued to look out of the window the rest of the ride.

‘Hey, V!’, Judy greeted them at the door and frowned as she saw the giant bow in their arms. ‘Woah, what’s that?’ ‘Complications? It’s a gift. Will you let me in?’ ‘Err. Yeah… Gifted complications?’ V just entered her flat and put down the box on the kitchen counter. ‘You know, the cat I told you about? Nibbles? Well, turned out she was pregnant and left me a bunch of kittens I can’t keep. You want one?’ ‘Do I… V, the only animal I ever cared for are fish and- Oh my god, they are so cute!’ She had already leaned on the counter, looking through the bars and watching the little cats stumble about. ‘Aren’t you just the cutest?’ She put a finger through the gaps and promptly pulled it back. ‘Ouch!’ She pressed on the small cut but smiled. ‘Oh, I definitely want one!’ ‘Then pick one’, V laughed and pointed at the box. ‘Who of you was the one to scratch me, hm?’ She pulled out one of the cats and held her up. ‘Gonna call you Limónita!’ V shook her head, but watched, as Judy was already cuddling with the little thing seeming completely enamoured. ‘Do you have someone for the rest of them?’, she asked. ‘I have an idea, yes’, V answered. ‘Gonna drive by a few friends, see if they would like one.’ ‘Alright! Tell me if you can’t find homes for all of them, I could ask a few Mox.’ ‘Thanks. I will come back to that!’

‘One gone, six more to go’, Johnny commented, as V sat back down in the car and drove off. ‘Yep. Next stop: My favourite Ripperdoc.’ ‘Really? You want to give that butcher one?’ ‘That butcher saved my life countless times. And he is one of the few actually decent people out there. He will take good care of a cat. From all of them maybe the best as he actually settled down and has a more or less safe job.’ ‘Whatever you say…’

V stopped as close to the clinic as they could and stepped out with the box, hurrying down the stairs. Misty was the first to greet them, surprised to see them there. ‘V. What brings you here?’ ‘Is Vic free at the moment? I have something. For both of you actually, if you are interested.’ ‘He should be, I can call him. A surprise?’ ‘Yes.’ V put the box down on a near table and nodded towards the ripperdoc that came out of his room. ‘My cat got kittens. I’m searching for people to give them a home. With the way I live, it’s… difficult to take care of even one, don’t mind all of them.’ They didn’t mention the biochip, but both of them knew what they were implying with that. Viktor took one of the kittens out of the box and scratched it behind the ear with his mechanical extensions. Misty took one, too, surprisingly catching the one that liked to ride on shoulders. She laughed as the kitten clawed the way up her arm and watched the other one that was calmly accepting the pets. ‘Any idea for names?’, Viktor asked, eyes not even taken off the cat for a second. ‘Ying and Yang would be fitting. See? Yours even has a little black spot at the ear.’ ‘Isn’t that a little cliché?’, the doc asked and earned an in-depth explanation from Misty why they were the perfect names. V watched them a little, but in the end just took the box and stole themselves away.

��Who’s next?’, Johnny asked, arms crossed behind his head. ‘Goro.’ Wait, what? I thought you were against selling them to some rich fucks!’ ‘I am. Takemura is a friend.’ ‘He’s Arasaka.’ ‘He’s Ex-Arasaka at best. And he will take good care of them.’ ‘Maybe, but… God, you’ve doomed that cat.’ ‘To the nice life of a spoiled kitty?’ ‘To sit through hours of meetings…’ ‘He’s a… You know what, I won’t even try. He’s nice and will love a kitty.’

V was proved correct in the end. She met Goro in a flat in a shady neighbourhood, but he had managed to tidy his temporary home up as if it was the corpo mansions he must be used to. He had been sceptical at first but as soon as he had taken a look into the box, he was almost instantly smitten with them and had sat down on the sofa with the kitten on his lap. He obviously tried to keep up a professional, stiff appearance, but as V left, they could hear the delighted ‘I hereby swear to protect you and care for you, Kitty-sama-‘ before the door fell into the lock.

She was still laughing when she came back to the car and drove off to her next target. ‘A cop. You are giving your cat to a cop?’ ‘I’m giving my cat to a loving family that always will have someone around to play with. I grew up knowing a family and I will always treasure those memories. Whatever kitten they pick, it will have a great life.’

‘V!’ They hadn’t even parked the car yet as the kids had spotted them. ‘V is here!’ ‘Are you staying to play?’ They laughed picking up the box. ‘I don’t think so. I have to speak with your dad, is he home?’ The children ran off to fetch him and V followed them, hoping the kittens would stay silent for a little while longer with the kids around. ‘V! What brings you here?’, River greeted them with a wide grin. ‘I’m looking for a home for my kittens. I can’t keep them. You look more of a dog person to me, but I’m not sure, so I thought I’d try.’ The man looked at them wide-eyed, then looking into the box. ‘You think I should… You would give me one?’ ‘I trust you to take good care of them’, V just nodded. He reached into the box and carefully lifted out a cat as if worried to break something. ‘So small’, he laughed, looking at the kitten fondly. He got to his knees, so the children could get a good look and a few pets, too. When he stood back up, he looked at V. ‘I will. This little kitty will have the best life I can give her.’ ‘Thank you.’

‘Okay, that was nice and all, but I have to stop you right there’, Johnny commented once again, as V was back in the car. ‘Kerry… Hell, he can’t even watch after himself. You… You’ve been to his house, okay? This should be obvious!’ ‘We both know that’s you being jealous he actually got over it and is successful now.’ ‘Yeah, well, because we turned up! Who knows what happens when we are gone.’ ‘I thought you said not to think about that because you won’t let me die?’ ‘I… Listen, you said you wouldn’t let me die either. So, I already know this will go to shit.’ ‘Kerry changed, Johnny. I trust him with a cat.’ Johnny sighed and vanished. ‘Why do I even try?’

At least the house was in less disarray than when V had last visited. The security was less hostile, too, allowing them to pass by and park right in front. ‘Hey, V? What’s up? Come in!’ He didn’t even acknowledge the box, leading them inside and pouring them a drink already. ‘My new song may be the best one I ever made; I’m telling you. I’ve made great progress!’ ‘I’m happy to hear that. Maybe once it’s ready, you could celebrate with a feline friend?’ The Rockstar turned around and only then saw the box, curiously looking into it. ‘Where did you get those cats?’ He had already taken one out to get a closer look. ‘They are worth a fortune, somehow I can’t believe you paid for it. Job gone wrong?’ ‘No, I took in a cat I found and she was pregnant. Now I’m looking for a home for them. Interested?’ ‘Interested?’ Kerry pulled the cat to his chest protectively now that he realised, he might get one. ‘I would love to have a cat! I just always saw the costs and… Well I guess my life style isn’t the most stable one. You would just… give one to me?’ ‘Sure’, V shrugged. ‘I mean you have the money to care for one, a place to live and I know you are a softie underneath that craziness.’ ‘Oh, I will take so good care of you’, Kerry chuckled. ‘I don’t need half the space I have; I will transform this home to your wishes.’ He smirked at V and addressed the cat again: ‘You’ll be the most spoiled cat in the world, and I will call you Johnny, so it fits!’

‘Oh, you won’t, you son of a-‘ V had to will the construct away not to laugh and left Kerry with his cat. Back in the car they felt sorry for the last cat in the box. ‘Don’t worry, you will get a nice home, too. You will like it. Always on the move, seeing the world. You will have a big family and believe me, nothing is better than laying in the sun on a warm dashboard seeing the world pass by.’ V felt Johnny’s eyes on them and sighed. ‘What? Back with the Bakkers we constantly picked up stray dogs and cats. Not that there were a lot. But I remember one that loved riding with us.’ Johnny answered by lifting up his hands in surrender and looking out through the window once again.

The drive to the Aldecaldo Camp took quite a while and the sun was already setting, as they reached the edge of it. It was in the progress of settling down for the night, the few guards on post nodding towards her and greeting her friendly but brief. It wasn’t far to Panam’s tent anyway, so V just passed them. ‘V! What a surprise! How are you?’ ‘Good. And you?’ ‘Can’t complain. What do you have there?’ ‘My cat had a litter. I found homes for all of them except this one. Wanted to keep the ride out here for last, you know how the city can get at night.’ ‘Okay’, Panam said, waiting for more. ‘So you want me to take the kitten?’ ‘If you want it’, V nodded. ‘I think you would take great care of a cat. And the Aldecaldos are there too.’ ‘But we will be on the move constantly, do you really think I should take her instead of someone in the city?’ ‘No one I know has a stable life, Panam. And with you I know the kitty is safe. You can always put a tracker on her collar or something if you fear her getting lost. If you want a cat.’ ‘Oh, I would love to! Thank you!’ She took the last kitten from the box, pulling her close to her chest and already looking for one of the larger trailers to keep it in for the beginning. ‘I will take good care of you kitty, V!’

‘And that was the last one of your kittens, V’, Johnny concluded on their way back. ‘I think your friends will give them a good home.’ ‘I hope it brings them joy. A little bit of good in this world.’ ‘Don’t be so pessimistic. The world may be a disaster, but if you know where to look, there will always be a little bit of good.’ ‘A thing of beauty?’, V teased, maybe not nearly as jokingly as they might had wanted it to be. ‘Who knows? Maybe?’, Johnny sighed. ‘However this might end, they will remember you, V. You won’t be forgotten.’ V lowered her head, gripping the steering wheel of the Porsche a bit harder. ‘And neither will you.’

#Cyberpunk 2077 #CP 2077 #Cyberpunk #nomad V #V #Johnny Silverhand #judy alvarez #misty olszewski #viktor vector #nibbles the cat #goro takemura #river ward #kerry eurodyne #panam palmer

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sanstropfremir · 3 years

Text

it’s the episode 8 review!!! how many episodes is this show supposed to even be?

the stages from the episode feel like such a grab bag.... i still don’t understand why they didn’t put all the skill stages together, and then did the normal two episodes of the third round. i guess it makes sense that they didn’t want to have six stages in one episode and then three in the other two, but eh.

feeling kinda average on these as a whole, there’s a lot of good elements going on here but probably because of my own preferences (i don’t listen to ballads or blackpink) none of them really hit all the buttons. hopefully this will be a shorter review because i'm only going to do a quick rundown of the vocal stages; i dont really have that much to say about them because they are (intentionally) not very stage picture focused. i'll do the normal stage breakdowns for the other two though, even though i won’t rank them because we still need to see the other four!

vocal stages

sf9 + tbz + ikon

not much to say here other than wow, that’s RED. glad to see some more specific use of spotlighting and i always love when they light things on fire. i do wish they had fill lit with a brighter amber so we could actually get a bit more detail on their faces, especially because there’s six of them. i appreciated the simple blocking and only using one of the ‘stages,’ this stage didn’t need to be anything complicated and it wasn’t. i don’t love spinning camera shots because they make me a bit ill, and i'll forgive the constant cutting because it's a vocal stage and there isn’t any other real movement that we should be paying attention to. not my favourite of the two, i found it visually a bit too repetitive and complex at the same time. always love a crushed velvet suit though, so bonus points for that.

atz + skz + btob

i was braced for the worst and i dont know what kind of miracle happened but it was listenable! like i said, not a ballad fan but i could listen to eunkwang all day. i love a good plinth for a ballad stage, they’re one of my favourite devices in kpop design and i especially love it with a good groundlevel fog. glad they kept it black and white for the first half of the stage, it was in line with the blooming flower projections, and it made a very clear colour arc. they kept the visuals clean and simple with very little blocking at all, a very smart choice for this stage. not sure why they decided it would be the chanel time stage, which i disapprove of because i don’t like chanel, but i do love eunkwang’s shirt with the cameo buttons and the massive turnback cuffs, very 17th and also 19th century. i know they never do it because they dont read on stage normally but yes absolutely more thin chain pendant chokers on men, thank you! i also liked that there was emphasis on a more traditional lighting scheme, there weren't any crazy concert effects, just some good directional beam spotlights and the rear stacks in the climax.

third round stages

ikon

costume

the first look for them is definitely my fabourite of theirs so far. there’s enough variation in the jackets that the base layer of tshirt and jeans don’t look too repetitive. and i do love a good statement jacket. my favourite is probably donghyuk’s because i'm a sucker for fringe always.

i don’t like the backup dancers costumes, but given the way i’ve reacted to every other all black outfit for this entire show i don’t think anyone was surprised about that. these ones particularly irk me because they’re very matte; there's pretty much no texture or pattern differentials to define the shape of the limb, which makes them disappear when theyre all grouped together (mostly on the women). i think they probably were intending to make a statement/emphasis on the hands because of the sleeve cutoff point, but there were so many arm movements that were just totally missed because the costumes were just black voids. most egregious parts are here, with the female dancers up center. i can barely tell what the movements are unless i’m paying specific attention to them because there's so many black shapes. maybe it was the point for it to be an indiscernable writhing mass, but it wasn’t my vibe.

don’t love this styling on lisa. i hate peeptoe shoes in general but peeptoe boots are the worst offenders. they make you look like you have duck feet, no matter who you are. especially with a flat cutout like that. a universally unflattering shoe, and i would know, i worked in a shoe store for two years. this whole look is just pg-13 rihanna cfda awards 2014 and really nobody should try to run up against rihanna.

also i have to mention this because it’s actually really bothering me, but lisa’s backup dancers are serving very allgemeine ss looks and i do not like it. generally when we see ‘military’ uniforms in kpop theyre usually modelled off older styles (pre wwii) of western uniforms that usually aren’t in circulation, and they’re usually non-matching and embellished in ways that are deliberately not military. i know logically that it's a budget constraint+they’re backup dancers+current trend thing but the clean lines with only button detailing and the all black and that specific harness shape? it hit my brain the wrong way. i mean, technically those uniforms are designer because hugo boss did them, but the uh..... girlboss move didn’t land for me.

this is my PERSONAL OPINION please for the love of all that is holy do not come yelling at me about this. it’s all under a cut, you chose to read the post.

set

very glad to see some busy kitschy sets! this is a massive build, since there’s essentially three full sets here: the temple, the jungle, and the first tiny room. and all of them are very heavily decorated.

the starting room is just five walls on casters (wheels), that have been set into place with the cameraman and ikon inside at the start, and then once they exit the walls can be easily struck and rolled off set. simple, smart, and convenient!

i missed it the first couple times around but glitching out the projections in the temple for a split second was a neat little trick.

the silver and polygonal nature of the tiger/panther/cat(?) head is a bit disconnected from the gold and the aesthetic of the rest of the stage for me. the difference between the original room set and the jungle tracks, but the cat head isnt able to make the same leap for me. i'm also not a fan of mixing metals so maybe that’s why.

the tiger/panther/cat(?) head is a fun physical transitional device; i'm a big fan of tunnels and small transitory spaces like that and if they’re well dressed like this one they do so much for establishing place and mood.

i'm very sure i’ve seen this style of polygonal animal head with laser eyes before....i cannot for the life of me remember where or for what. i know wang yibo did a panther stage for sdc3 that had a human formation panther with green laser eyes, i wonder if i'm just crossing wires.

OH nevermind it’s because it looks like the witcher medallion. wires were definitely crossed.

lighting

using purple/teal lighting for the jungle was a smart choice because purple is the direct compliment to the gold and also is much more flattering on humans than green. green is one of the colours that humans can see the most variations in, so when something is green when it's not supposed to be (like human skin), we register that very quickly and associate it with unease and sickness. you know how old fluorescent lights have that greenish tinge that kinda makes you feel ill? it's your cone cells and your brain recognizing that you’re looking at things that are not supposed to be green.

very clean colour arc, i love to see it.

sound

it’s.....fine? i don’t listen to blackpink and have no opinions on their music other than it's not my type. i dont really know what the thematic connection to the visuals is, which is not strictly necessary in a lot of cases, but i don’t particularly care for the conflation of ‘savage’ and a (presumably) precolonial religion that’s assembled from stereotypes of real colonized cultures. you can come at me about how ‘it's not that deep’ all you want but i am here specifically doing an in depth analysis, and i gotta point it out. i'm not here to pass judgement on you if you didn’t realize or don’t care or whatever, i'm just saying that it's important to consume content with a critical eye. what you do with that information is your own personal choice, but you should be aware of it at least.

staging

they took a big risk eating popcorn right before singing, and we definitely got some residual mouth noises of them trying to clean out their teeth. eating on stage is difficult in general because you have to make sure it's not going to dry out the performers mouths, because they dont have access to water and it takes WAY longer to chew and swallow something than you would expect. there’s a LOT of testing that goes into making stage food and guaranteed it’s not made out of what it looks like or what its supposed to be; i worked on a production of amadeus were we did literal weeks of testing amalgams of different desserts to make sure that salieri could actually eat the ones onstage without totally drying him out, because fun fact about that show, salieri doesnt leave stage like, at all, so there was no way to get him water. poor bloke.

i thought the blocking of this was really smart. the long take from the ‘normal’ room and transition into the jungle was super slick, even if that weird circle the camera did while pointed up at the ceiling was unnecessary and pointless.

bobby’s ‘acting’ was extremely funny and that’s the only way people are allowed to act surprised now. edvard munsch scream style only.

the pacing is a bit off and this time it wasn’t mnet’s editing that fucked it up. as fun as it is to have a feature, clearly she wasn’t allowed within proximity of the rest of them for covid or other yg related reasons, but it made for some extremely long transitions, especially the one out of her verse. it kills the momentum of the stage in that beat, even though they manage to pick it up after.

this is a very simple little narrative arc that’s easy to follow and doesn’t require any extra explaining. which is exactly the kind of arc that groups should be doing at this stage in the game. this is a good formic step up for ikon!

i thought the turning off of the monitor at the end was fun and a good callback to them watching the videos at the beginning of the stage. a nice clean way to make it circular.

skz

costume

FINALLY something different on the skz boys! these were mostly fun eboy looks for them, and i like it on the basis that it's not the same as the last set of costumes.

bang chan out there with his thigh OUT and a (fake) bridge piercing? LOVE to see it. great work.

(copy-paste every thing i’ve said about backup dancers wearing all black)

the backup dancers that were dressed as bystanders/extras were great! they should have kept that with all of them because it would have given a little more shape to the choreography and establishing what function the backup dancers were supposed to have.

set

that is meant to be a giant rice cooker on stage, right? i think so because it's a god’s menu mashup? if that's not a rice cooker i have NO idea what its supposed to be

there’s only two large setpieces here, which was a smart way to go. i LOVE the subway car doubling as the truck, even if the truck itself makes no narrative sense. what a fun way to double the use of a single big piece. you’ll be able to see the way it moves in the full cam but it splits down the centre and there entrance doors at the back with attached stairs that bang chan and the dancers use to climb up.

lighting

not a whole lot happening here. i like the cool white leds in the subway car and the contrast with the more warm tones of the outside, which is good atmospheric establishment, but i can't discern a visible arc.

not a fan of these projections; they’re in line with what we’ve seen from skz so far, which is: extremely literal. i dont think they’re that distracting, but they’re not to my personal taste. they really should have kept the comic panel theme that they did for changbin’s first verse, because that was inventive and fun to watch! and a great atmospheric indicator! i would love to see a bit more experimental projection use but it's hard when they don’t have a lot of time to build these stages and the lighting team is definitely working remotely.

sound

i love that they made the choice to do some actual talking, it’s a good gimmick and it works for the deadpool/comic book/fourth wall break theme, but australian accents take me the fuck out i am so sorry i cannot listen to either felix or bang chan speak english without laughing uncontrollably.

i don’t like this arrangement but i'm not surprised about that, given my predilections. i'm also tired of skz shouting STRAY KIDS in every performance they do. i know on music shows it's probably more relevant and yea producers tags are a thing but we’ve been watching this show for nearly two months at this point. we know who you are, you can stop yelling. be more creative with it!

staging

my biggest issue with this stage is that it doesn’t have a payoff. there is an arc here: they’re stealing the truck, but why are they stealing the truck? who are they stealing it from? who are they fighting against? it's kind of important in a stage where the theme is stealing and fighting someone that you tell us who that is. in both of ateez’s previous stages were they were both stealing (rhythm ta) and fighting (wonderland), they made sure to show us who the villain was. there needs to be tension for a big blowup climax to actually pay off. whether it be against a a balloon arm kraken or a fascist government. this stage could have reached that next step if they’d just done a little bit more exposition.

there were a lot of fun choreo moments here, and this is probably my favourite choreo of theirs so far. i thought the whole first bit in the subway car was excellent and a very fun play on those viral videos that we used to see roll around every so often of dancers doing routines in subway cars.

did it need the guns? not in the slightest. more on this point later. i could talk more about weapons and weight here, but i’ve done that several times already.

like with the tbz game of thrones stages, theyre relying a little too much on the audience's preconceptions of the source material in order to carry the theme. the guns are there because deadpool likes guns, but they don’t actually use the guns for anything? the most we get of the stealing segment is felix and the safe, which admittedly is a great bit with him leaping over and under the ‘laser’ lines (theyre likely led strips). because comic books are by nature procedural and deeply tied to narrative, it's unsatisfying when there’s no tension and no payoff.

HOW did we manage to get two stages that are blackpink covers with remote/tv static gimmick and durags? i know the slot machine of kpop tropes is not very big but surely the probability of hitting triple sevens on this one was pretty low. i’m pretty meh on both of these stages overall. skz was unsatisfying but i loved the choreo in the subway bit so that bumped it up a little ahead of ikon’s in my personal preferences, but i'm reserving my actual rankings for next week. assuming we get the other four stages next week and they dont do something stupid and only show two. which they very well might. i’ve stopped trying to understand why mnet does things the way that they do.

as always the ask box is open, drop your comments/questions/personal opinions, i love to hear ‘em! but don’t be rude just because some of this is touchier subject material.

#kingdom #ateez #btob #ikon #sf9 #the boyz #stray kids #military uniforms are a weird one and i always find it a bit....(squiggly face emoji) when they get used in kpop stages #everybody is one of the exceptions because its used as a direct critique #but this is a very personal opinion as someone who has done a lot of historical research on military uniforms in particular #so im hyperaware of that kind of thing #be cool about this one people please and thank you!#im so glad this came in under 3k #kingdom review #kpop analysis #text #ive had to write a lot of deeply critical art practice analysis in the last week and i would like to sleep

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thepartyresponsible · 4 years

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another soundtrack fill! this is for the anon who asked for bucky barnes/jason todd and “vengeance” by neoni, which i had never heard before, but which is definitely a “killing monsters with giant robots” song.

so here’s a pacific rim au. the only surprise here is that it’s taken me so long to write one.

---

Echo Lazarus and Bullseye Lucky throw Scorpio back into the Pacific, but the Kaiju’s barbed stinger rips a hole clear through Laz’s chestplate first. Twenty seconds later, Lucky executes it with a shot through a weak point in its cranial bones. Jason would take that less personally if the damage had been on his side of Laz, instead of Frank’s. Probably.

“Fucking assholes,” he says, fighting free of the harness, elbowing his way out of the Conn-Pod. “Kill-stealing chucklefucks,” he continues, right over the top of Frank’s half-assed attempts to calm him down. “I’m sick of this shit, Castle.”

“I’m fine,” Frank says. There’s a bit of blood on his mouth, but it’s from smashing his lip against his helmet, not from neural overload or internal bleeding. When he wipes it away, no more leaks out to replace it. “Nice of you to check in.”

“I know you’re fine, Castle,” Jason says, ignoring the still-panicked thudding of his heart. “Fuck off.”

He stomps his way free of Lazarus and shoulder-checks Frank seconds later, relieved by the solid warmth of him. Relieved, also, by the exasperation in Frank’s face as he shoves Jason out of his personal space.

“I’m fine,” Frank says. And then, a beat later, a bit more intent: “Jason. I’m fine.”

“I know,” Jason says. Because he does. His brain was Frank’s brain was their brain when the hit landed. The fear that flooded them was Jason’s, not Frank’s.

Frank’s not scared of dying. Jason’s not that nervous about it, either. But being linked while the other dies? Feeling Frank fade away like water down a drain?

Yeah, sure. That scares the hell out of him.

“Jason,” Frank says, looking at him, sidelong and flat. Outside of the Drift, he never seems to know what to say.

“You’re fine,” Jason repeats, sullenly, dutifully. “I know that. I do. I told you.”

He flattens himself obligingly against the hallway wall, lets the techs swarm past him to get to Echo Lazarus. None of them even make eye-contact, and Jason knows what that means. Their Jaeger will need extensive repairs. They’ll be out for a week or two, minimum, and they won’t even get a recorded kill out of this little shitshow.

Bullseye Lucky will get the kill. Again.

“If I break their knees,” Jason says, as the crew of techs scuttles between them, “they’ll stop stealing our fucking kills.”

Frank rolls his eyes. When they’re in their own brains, he likes to pretend he’s indifferent to this whole business. But Jason’s been in his thoughts. He knows how Frank feels about the Kaiju. He lost his whole family to these ocean-borne bastards, his wife and his little girl, his son. He likes the kill just as much as Jason does.

It’s a balm. A comedown. It’s a moment of catharsis they both need more than they want to acknowledge, and Lucky has stolen three of their last four, and Jason’s losing his mind about it, a little.

“If you cause a big scene about this,” Frank says, “I will not have your back when Barnes knocks you on your ass.”

Jason scoffs. Audibly. And then, just to be sure Frank hears him, he does it again, louder, with more emphasis in his jaw and shoulders. “Fuck you, Castle,” he says. “You’re gonna have my back forever.”

Frank rolls his eyes again. He doesn’t argue.

Forever means for as long as he can. Forever means today and, if they’re lucky, tomorrow. And they have tomorrow because Jason flinched when he saw the hit coming, because he threw everything he had into moving, directing that hit anywhere that wasn’t right at Frank.

They have tomorrow because Clint Barton and Bucky Barnes shot Scorpio through the skull, and so now Jason will never know if he and Frank could’ve saved themselves. He can’t come down, can’t feel safe.

“I’m gonna fucking kill them,” Jason says.

Barton and Barnes aren’t generally known for partying, but a beer or two seems to knock the taste of Kaiju ichor out of their mouths. Jason finds Clint tucked away at the little on-base bar, which exists primarily to stop Rangers from going out among the civilian populace and regaling them with the most recent stories of how close they all came to absolute annihilation.

“Hey, shithead,” he says, as he slides up next to Barton at the bar, “quick question: are you at least getting off on giving me blue balls? Because someone should be getting off. And it’s damn sure not me.”

“Christ,” Frank says, with a heavy sigh. He elbows up between them and directs bleak, beseeching eyes toward the watchful bartender. “Help me.”

“Sure,” the bartender says. “Is that a single or a double?”

“Please, yeah, tell me all about your balls, Todd,” Clint mutters, in a tone just as deeply skeptical as Frank’s. “They definitely don’t feature in my brain enough.”

“A double,” the bartender says, with a decisive nod. “Sure.” He starts pouring. Frank grunts what would probably be a thank you, if he took his head out of his hands.

“What the fuck does that mean, Barton?” Jason says, leaning half over Frank’s shoulders to see him. “Are you daydreaming about my balls? Because I’ll give you a free sample if you stop sniping my fucking kills.”

Clint swivels his head to stare at the side of Frank’s. “Can you,” he says, low and deeply felt, “believe this shit?”

“Absolutely,” Frank says, as he takes a hearty swig of whiskey. “Believe it? Yes. Hate every minute of it? Also yes.”

“Can I tell him?” Clint asks. “Can I just--”

“Hey,” Jason says, because he’s finally caught sight of Barnes, skulking in the shadowy back of the bar. Barnes is like that. Jason’s noticed. It can be full summery sunshine, and Barnes will find a way to be evasive and out of sight. Jason always manages to catch sight of him anyway, though. He’s not hyperaware of the guy. It’s just basic situational awareness. “Hey, asshole.”

“Thank God,” Clint says, and Frank taps his tumbler against the side of Clint’s glass in a show of solidarity that Jason finds both deeply disloyal and completely unacceptable. He steals their drinks as recompense and then stalks across the bar.

Bucky looks up at Jason gets closer. His hair is too long again, still wet from his post-fight shower, falling across his face and curling, a little, at the ends. His eyes are bright blue and narrowed, wary like a stray cat. He’s wearing a PPDC t-shirt and old jeans. He looks ridiculous. He’s an asshole.

Because Barton will come through when you need him, but he’s not the mother hen on the team. Lucky’s been stealing kills because Bucky Barnes can’t keep his hands off the trigger.

“That for me?” Bucky asks, pointing at the whiskey in Jason’s hand.

“No,” Jason says, and he takes a quick sip to establish ownership. It’s smoky as hell, because Frank likes that kind of old man garbage, but Jason drinks it anyway.

Bucky points at Clint’s drink. “So the beer’s for me?”

“The beer is also mine,” Jason says. He downs a bit of that, too. “Why the hell would I be bringing you a drink?”

“Gratitude?” Bucky says, eyebrow cocked. “For saving your ass?”

“My ass was never in danger,” Jason says. “Fuck you for worrying about my ass.”

“I don’t know if you’ve seen your ass,” Bucky says, “but it’s really difficult to--”

“Oh, is that what we’re doing?” Jason puts the glasses down on the table. “We’re gonna skip straight to the part where we fight?”

Bucky steals Frank’s stolen whiskey. “You brought me a drink. I figured ass talk was allowed.”

Jason’s jaw drops. He rescues the beer before it falls victim to similar machinations. “Sure,” he says. “Sure, Barnes. We can talk about asses. We can talk about how I’m gonna kick yours all the way to--”

“Jason,” Bucky says. He leans forward, elbow on the table, and he looks good, when he comes out of the shadows like that. The light does nice things for his cheekbones, for his eyes, for the sharp line of his jaw and the soft curl of his smirking mouth. “Is that really what you want to do with my ass?”

Jason swallows. He takes a long, fortifying drink of the beer in his hand. He’s been learning about these kind of tactics from Frank. Stalling, Frank tells him. Tactical misdirection.

But he’s just a kid from Gotham, and he plays by Gotham rules. The Joker’s always wild, the stakes are always high, and you call every bluff you find, because you’ve always got less to lose.

He sets the glass on the table. It’s empty, anyway. He’s great at tactical stalling. A Goddamn natural.

“I dunno, Barnes. Do you have any suggestions of something else I could do with your ass?”

Hours later, Barnes still isn’t out of ideas, but they’re catching their breath through another round of tactical stalling. “Jesus,” Jason says. “Did you see those shitheads high-fiving when we left? Frank won’t even let me high-five him.”

“He and Clint have a history,” Bucky says. Which Jason knows, thank you. He’s seen plenty of Barton in the Drift. “Anyway, Clint’s been bitching at me about you for months.”

Jason furrows his brow and looks over at him. The sheets are bunched up at mid-thigh. Bucky doesn’t look any less beautiful than he did when he shoved Jason backwards onto this bed, but he at least has the decency to look winded and considerably mussed.

“Months,” he repeats, trying to infuse the word with all the dubiousness a single syllable can hold. “What the hell do you mean, months?”

The look Bucky gives him indicates that maybe he’s not interested in Jason for his brain. In fact, it seems to suggest that he doubts Jason has one. “Oh, fuck you,” he says. “What? You want me to say it?”

Jason doesn’t know what the hell Bucky is or isn’t saying. When they left the bar, he figured they were going to work out their shared aggression in a way that wouldn’t get either one of them demoted or transferred. He’d held onto that assumption until Bucky started treating him like he was something worth putting effort into, and he’d been too busy after that to do any complicated reanalysis.

“Yeah,” he says. “I want you to say it.”

Bucky makes a face at him, a sideways smush of his mouth and a long look up through his ludicrous eyelashes. He reaches up to touch the side of Jason’s face, fingertips gentle as they run across the freshly bruised skin, the only sign on Jason’s body that he almost died today.

If Bucky had touched him like that four hours ago, Jason would’ve slapped his hand away and told him to go to hell.

Right now, he wants to lean into it. He holds himself still.

“I’m not stealing your kills on purpose,” Bucky tells him, gaze dropping from the bruise on Jason’s hairline to look him straight in the eyes, pinning him to the bed. “I just hate it when you get hurt.”

Jason swallows. He tips his head into Bucky’s hand, and Bucky leans in and kisses him like he can’t help himself.

“You’re still a kill-stealing piece of shit, Barnes,” Jason says, mouth an inch from Bucky’s, staring up into the bright blue of his stardust eyes.

Bucky looks down at him for a moment, mouth caught between a smirk and a smile. “Uh-huh,” he says. He kisses him again, on his cheek, on his jaw, in a line down his throat to his chest. “Let me make it up to you.”

#writing #fic #fill #soundtrack fills

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into-crazy · 5 years

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More to the Madness Pt. 7

Ledger!Joker x Female Reader series

Summary: You and the Joker finally bang it out. Continuation to part 6, so if you haven't read that part, I suggest you do.

Warnings- Cursing, mentions of violence, NSFW, SMUT, oral sex, unprotected sex, brief degradation, overstimulation, brief knife play, ages 18+

You can find the other parts RIGHT HERE and through the “More to the Madness” tag lovelies💞💞

Grabbing your wrist he tugs you into him, "now, where was I? Ah right, that mouth of yours."

Placing both hands on your cheeks, he presses his lips to yours again. His hold moves down the sides of your chest, over the harness past your waist, to grab at your hips. Swinging your back from the tiny wall, he haphazardly walks you backwards towards the bedroom. All while not breaking the kiss.

Not having the patience to properly open the door, J kicks it open. Shoving you inside upon your avail. You grab at his collar, pulling him even closer. Moaning as you rolling your tongue along the painted scar splitting his bottom lip. A deep rumble vibrates within his chest, his grip on your hips tightening so hard it's sure to bruise. He slams your back against the room's wall, nothing blunt, but lacking a gentle manner. You stifle the groan brought by the impact, he traps you between his frame and the enclosure.

His long leg steps in between your legs, pushing back against your clothed heat as he presses his hips forward into yours. The action causing you to moan loudly. Joker chuckles at your needy moan, "ohh I like that pretty sound." He takes the opportunity to pull back and look at you. His half lidded gaze boring into your own while he breathes heavily. Your lips are smeared with red and black, your heart beating fast, and your eyes replaced the fury from earlier with lust. Deep, longing, starving lust. For him. "Let's hear it again, hm."

He flexes his muscular thigh against your pussy, inflicting an even better moan from your lips followed with a hushed, "fuck J.."

"Mm, much better than that nagging tone," he approves. Grabbing his shoulders, you shamelessly roll your hips. Grinding yourself onto his leg to get that much needed friction. You focus on the growing bulge under his purple slacks. He snickers, "desperate, aren't ya?" That tongue running deliciously over his wet lips.

"Me?" You breathe out cracking a smile, "you're one to talk, look at you!" You hint towards his confined erection.

With a dissatisfied snarl, Joker yanks his leg away. Taking both your wrists in one hand, he throws your limbs above your head. The other goes to wrap around your neck, the leather feeling amazing on your skin. "You're testing my patience doll," he growls dangerously, tightening his grip around your neck. A filthy whine escapes your throat, you take your bottom lip between your teeth.

Amusement takes over his face when he realizes you're enjoying this. "You, you like that don't ya? You ah, like having my hand around your neck?" He squeezes tighter in emphasis. You try your hardest to nod against his grasp, "mhm."

Joker tsks, "naughty, naughty. Most are usually afraid of this, but not you, huh? Noo, only dirty little sluts get off on being choked."

Balling your fists, you attempt to pull your wrists in his iron hold. Stopping your movements, you snarl, "I am not some slut." It's insulting, the way he said it. As though he's comparing you to just about anyone he could sleep around with. Some cheap throwaway to give him what he wants only to be tossed out right after.

He laughs mockingly at your misinterpretation. "You uh, seemed to have misread me doll," he acknowledges. "You're not just any slut, you're MY little slut." The hand on your throat moves to your abdomen, sliding it down until he cups your clothed sex. His tormenting touch having your eyelids fluttering. "Mine, and mine only.." He growls lowly, his gloved fingers begin to push and tease you. His twisted possessiveness makes you melt inside.

His only.

Those words rang around in your dizzy head.

J's mouth works down your neck, harshly kissing and sucking dark patches into your skin. Your chest brushes him, rising and falling through shuddered breaths. "Watch, I'll have you begging for me shortly. I want you to," he whispers into your skin. "You'll be begging me to fuck you. Crying, even. Then.." His fingers start to work harsh circles on your clit through the soft fabric. Luckily your cat suit was made of durable material, not bad for soft polyester. You use your best efforts to roll against his hand while he speaks. "That's when I'll break you."

"Is that a threat?" You question, a quirk in your brow.

"No. That-" he pauses, pulling back to peer into your eyes, "that is a promise." He leans in, taking your bottom lip between his yellow teeth. Biting down harshly, maintaining his carnal stare. Having no choice but to hold that stare, you sigh deeply in the thrill of your desire. He pisses you off, but he's got a valid point. There's no doubt you want this man before you, he can see past your façade, read it in your eyes, feel it in the way you move against him.

Joker finally releases his grip on your wrists, allowing them to drop and grab onto him. He pinches the zipper at the top of your cat suit, "let's ah, get this off." You both listen to the scratching sound as he slides it further down, past your collar, past your chest, down your stomach- until it gets caught on the harness. Not allowing him to unzip you all the way, he let's out a dissatisfied snarl. His fingertips tug the piece, "remove this now." The deep, commanding tone in his voice gets you to quickly unstrap the leather buckles at your thighs.

Taking a step back, Joker watches you impatiently while he works at removing his tie, vest, and.. suspenders?

"Cute suspenders," you giggle looking over the green diamond patterns on the strips, "have you always had those?" Unclipping the strap from your waist, you carelessly toss the harness containing your knives and gun to the floor. Just like that, your own line of defense, thrown off to the side. Your only chance at a fight in case anything goes wrong simply tossed, without any sense of hesitation.

"All apart of the look doll," he half teased, "now hurry up, before I use 'em to restrain you in a way you won't find too enjoyable." The thrill of being completely exposed to him rousing you to move faster. Though your curiosity peaked on what he had in mind with those straps. Undoing your boots, you use this opportunity to scan the room.

There wasn't much in here- a large bed at the back, one color stained pillow, no blankets or covers. A side table with a crooked bed lamp atop it, a few knifes and paper scraps alongside. An old dresser against the other wall. Two windows with the blinds shut, and yet another gas can discarded in the far corner. This must be where he sleeps when he gets the chance, you figured. In a way, it reminded you of your own safe house. Only yours is cleaner and.. homey.

Tossing your boots aside, J's hands are back on you. He finishes unzipping your attire, the metallic zipper ending just below your abdomen. You shimmy out of the red fabric- gloves included, kicking them across the room to join the pile, left only in a bra and seamless thong. Joker looks you over, admiring your almost bare body with a hungry look in his eyes.

You giggle working on his shirt buttons, "what? You didn't think I went commando, did ya?" A sly smile creeps across his face, he shoves your hand away. Dipping down to nip and kiss from your neck to your cleavage.

Suddenly his hand grabs at your hair, yanking your head back hard. "And you didn't think I'd let that sarcastic remark slide, did ya?" He pushes you down by your shoulders, placing you on your knees before him. Using his teeth to remove his gloves, he tosses them to the side, paying no mind where they land. His rough, paint speckled hand grabs your chin harshly, making you look at him. Joker stands proudly over you, "let's put your disrespectful mouth to uh, better use." Using his free hand, he unfastens his belt.

You watch in mouth gaped excitement while he allows his pants to fall to his feet. His thick cock protruding against the flimsy fabric of his boxers. Fuck he's huge! Ran through your mind. You know he is, and you haven't even seen it yet.

"Now.." He uses a grip in your strands to push you towards his confined erection, "how about you be a good girl an make it up to me, huh." It wasn't a request, it was a demand. One, upon many others you're more than pleased to carry out.

Keeping eye contact, you pull his boxers down so they join his pants below. Once his cock is free, you shift your gaze to look at it. His impressive member, stands fully erect in front of your wide eyes. His angry, red tip leaking beads of precum. The sight alone makes your core ache with need, to be filled with his cock. You run your soft hands up his strong, bare thighs. Wrapping one under his head, you run your wet tongue flat along the underside of his length. Joker groans deeply at your light touch. Taking his tip into your lips, you lick his precum clean off, getting that first taste of him. Swirling your tongue around it, sliding your hand to grip his base. With a huff, J quickly thrusts completely into your mouth. Tip hitting the back of your throat, you gag on his cock. Blinking rapidly at the tears prickling the corners of your eyes while your saliva coats his length.

"Would ya look at that?" He cackles wickedly, the back of his hand caressing your cheek in a way similar to adornment. "How pretty you look with my cock in your mouth." Joker then grabs ahold of both your buns, he starts thrusting in and out your mouth. He especially likes the leverage your hairstyle provides, they're like handles making it all the easier for him to control you. Excess saliva dripping down your mouth and his length while he continues to fuck your mouth. Tears streaming down your cheeks, taking the fake one's made of the black makeup along with them.

His girth makes it impossible to breathe, especially now that he's knocking the air from you with his constant pounding. So far down your mouth and throat each time, your nose brushes his pubic hair with every thrust. Only when you're on the verge of passing out would Joker pull back and allow you a breath before slamming completely back in. He's using you entirely for his pleasure and you love every second of it. Even through the blur of your tears could you make out the gritting of his teeth, the deep, fevered look in his face. And through the lewdly wet, slapping sounds could you hear his erratic breaths and throaty groans. It only brings you to crave him so much more.

You work your tongue strokes best as you can with his movements. As his breathing grows shallower, you can tell he is close. To be able to bring this destructive man to pure ecstasy would be a godsend. Grabbing his hips, you attempt to hold him close so he could finish in your mouth. Swallowing as much of him as you could.

Joker can feel what your trying to do, but he has no intention to cum in your mouth. With a harsh tug of your hair, he pulls you off his dick with a slick pop! A line of spit trailing from your flushed lips to the head of his cock. Your makeup had ran down your face, you wipe it with your forearm. Feeling extra defiant, you look up straight at him, obscenely licking your moistened lips.

A quiet chuckle emerges from him as he clamps your chin. Calloused fingers digging into the plush of your cheeks, he tugs you back to your feet. Shoving you hard against the wall, kissing you sloppily. He whispers, "nice try bunny." That's a new one. "Trying to ah, make me cum in that sweet mouth of yours. That's cute." Suddenly, a wicked grin pulls across his scar split cheeks at an idea. He places his hand firm on your chest, "stay still."

He reaches down to search through the pocket of his discarded pants. You stay put like he asked, fingers splaying on the flat surface behind. What the hell is he doing? Your thoughts are answered when he pops back up. The distinct clicking sound of a switchblade brings you in focus on what he has. Yep. An all black switchblade. Joker waves the sharp article carelessly in your view, smirking at your flabbergasted reaction.

He places the blade against your throat, applying just enough pressure for it not to break your skin. You let out a shuddered sigh, focusing on the cool sting of the blade. Initially, it alarmed you. Within reason, one simple move and he could end you there. But if there's one thing you know about the Joker, it's that he likes to draw moments out. Take his time, savor such intimate details. As unpredictable as the man is, if he wanted to end your life, he would have done it a long time ago. Then again, there's no telling what he'll do next.

Joker peers into you, "you scared of me?" He whispers deeply, a mad look in his blackened eyes.

Another sigh, you answer, "no."

"No?" Joker repeats. "A knife held to your throat doesn't scare you?" he taunts, pushing the blade further. But you don't budge, you stay still. With a curious hum, he eases up so you could answer.

"The action alone, yes," you return honestly, "but the man in front of me, no. I'm not afraid of you J." Spoken with a hidden message, one he instantly picked up on. I trust you.

He drags the blade down your collarbone, sliding it under the right strap of your bra. He holds your eyes. A quick flick of his wrist, and the strap snaps. Balling your fists at your sides, you whimper softly as he transfers the weapon to the other strap. Slicing through the piece, the blade barely misses your chin with the quick motion. The shredded fabric falls down your waist, he removes it completely freeing your breasts.

J's tongue grazes his lips at the view of your naked chest. "Mmhm, perfect.." he huffs beginning to rub your breasts, with the knife still in hand. He manages to keep the edges facing away from cutting into you. His thumbs graze your nipples, peaking in his touch. "And ya kept this gorgeous body from me underneath all those layers? Shame, y/n." He takes one between his thumb and pointer, pinching the sensitive bud. You wince, bringing your chest upward. He bends down, instantly soothing it with his tongue, running flat along your breast.

You tangle your hand into his greasy green locks. "J.." you moan in response. He pulls his mouth away, leaving traces of his face paint on your breasts. Bringing the knife to the thin band of your thong, he tears the soaked article right off. You hiss as the blade nicks through your skin in the process, drawing blood.

Peering down at the laceration on your lower stomach. Deep enough for blood to trickle out. You were about to say something when Joker quickly tosses the switchblade aside and moves to one knee, inches away from your dripping heat. He takes a moment to look at the small wound. Grabbing your hips, he licks up the trail of the slash mark. Relishing in the metallic tang that is your blood. You whimper, while his tongue lingers on your stomach. The feral display only he can make erotic. No other man has done- or will ever be capable of doing- what this man is surging within you.

Having his mouth so close to where you need him most makes your pussy throb. You knead his firm shoulders, rolling your hips towards him. But he purposely avoids your desperate intentions. His squeezing on your hips keep you from any more movements as he glares up at you. An ominous look reminding you that even in this position below you, he is still in control here. And, he's teasing you to your limits, he knows how badly you want him to attend to your trembling heat. Prolonging how far you'll go before you break. You can't take it anymore, time to put your pride aside and ask.

"Joker?" You aim to grab his attention.

"Hm?" He hums, you feel his bumpy scars brush against your stomach.

"I-I can't take it. Will you please just do something?" You look at him with plead written all over.

Joker's hand rubs down your thigh, the roughness drawing a hitch in your throat. He smiles smugly, "I am doing something. You're gonna have to tell me what you want, and uh, ask nicely for it." He tilts his head slightly to the side to taunt you further.

You whisper, "touch me, please-" Your pleads cut short when his hand strikes your thigh, right on the verge of your ass, eliciting a loud SMACK! You cry out from the sting.

He soothes over the area, "you're gonna have to be more specific doll. How do you want me to touch you?"

"With your fingers, your mouth, your tongue," you started rambling whatever you could think of. "Anything just touch me!" He strikes you again.

"Beg for me," he commands.

"Come on. Please, J," you fret.

Another strike.

Joker muses, "not good enough, try again."

The underside of your thigh is starting to glow red from the constant contact from his hand. The bite of the pain mixing deliciously with the passion coursing through your body. Overcome with your arousal do you give in, pleading "P-please J, I'm aching- please, I need you to touch me!"

Satisfied with your pleas, Joker throws your leg over his shoulder. Pushing and steading you against the drywall. "See? Now that wasn't so hard." He sneers dipping his head between your thighs, hooking his arm under your thigh that hung over him. He opens you up, the fingers of his other hand spreading your pussy lips. His rugged breath brushed hotly past your lips as he gazed entirely at your womanhood. For a moment, your self-consciousness hit you. Feeling every bit of insecure with having his face this close to your exposed sex. The uncertainty died at his next words.

"Such a pretty little pussy you have, sweetheart. You're so wet for me." And with that, his tongue was instantly on you. Dragging from your dripping opening to your clit. Flicking the swollen bud two times before pressing the wet muscle firmly on it, leaving you moaning and writhing in his grasp. He ran his tongue up the same way as before, only this time he latched his entire mouth to your clit, his muffled hum sending vibrations straight to your core.

His tongue went to prod at your hole. Starring straight at you while he began fucking you with the muscle, lapping down your sweet juices. His hand sprawled on your abdomen, with his thumb rubbing harsh circles on your clit. You buck your hips to meet his strokes. Wet, slurping noises fill your ears.

"Joker! Ahh, fuck, fuck!" You moan his name aloud, not caring who hears you at this point.

Removing his tongue, he replaces it with two fingers. The slickness from your arousal allowing them to ease in. Pushing them in all the way to his knuckles, he growls at the way your cunt clamps onto his digits. "Shit," he huffs, "your pussy is this excited with just my fingers? You must ah, really want me bad then." He moves his fingers in and out of you, switching between curling them against that spot that made you weak. Attentively jotting your reactions to each specific movement. "You'll wrap so nice and tight around my cock, won't ya?"

"Hnnn- uhh, yes J," you sputter. Having no choice but to hold onto his shoulder and the wrist snug on your thigh for support. Even more so, now that his mouth added to the vigorous sensation, rolling over your throbbing bud. Quickly climbing that pinnacle leading to pure ecstasy. Your breath is growing shallow, body on the verge of locking up, you're so close. Just when you were about to reach your climax, Joker halts his movements. Stilling his fingers and removing his mouth, cutting you off from your needed release.

"No! Damn it, why!?" You whine at the abrupt loss. Slamming your palm on the weak enclosure behind you. J laughs coldly, "Only good girls get to cum. And ah, so far you haven't proven to me that you've earned it."

"I'll be good." You reply.

"My good little girl?" He presses on, teasing you with a slight curl of his fingers inside you. Your back arching completely off the wall.

"Yes, yes, I'm your good girl! Yours only! Please Joker!" You damn near shout your cries. He wanted you to beg, well he's got it.

"Atta girl, you learn fast." Joker's fingers begin to move like before, his mouth goes back to lapping your clit. Repeatedly curling his fingers to bring you to your release.

Your grip on his wrist tightens. "Yes, oh yes, d-don't stop! Please, don't stop!" You cry relentlessly.

"Do it, cum on my fingers," Joker commands along your trembling heat, "do it, come on bunny."

After a few more of his merciless finger strokes, you reach your peak. Releasing all over his hand and mouth. With your stance on one leg, you certainly would have fallen if it weren't for his solid hold. Keeping you from toppling over. He continues to draw out your orgasm, licking up your juices. Sucking the remainder off his soaked digits as he stands back on his feet. His chin is glistening, the red and white on the lower half of his face smudged and removed in some areas. "I bet ya feel as good as ya taste," he beams.

"Get over here and find out." You grab ahold of his loosened collar, tugging him in an open mouthed kiss. Tasting yourself as J shoves his tongue into your mouth. His hard cock presses against your abdomen while he squeezes the underside of your thighs. He hoists you up so your legs wrap around his waist, earning a surprised yelp from you. Successfully spreading your legs, he lines himself up with your waiting entrance. His thick head parting your slick walls.

Pausing momentarily to stare into you, he snarls, "how bad do you want me to fuck you?" His hands keep you grounded. An obvious 'proceed with caution' sign in his question, ya sure you wanna go through with this?

Your hands slide up to hook behind his neck. "S-so bad," you whine, "I need to feel you inside me, please, fuck me!"

Without a warning, Joker thrust himself into you entirely. You let out a sharp cry as he smashed you hard on the wall. The sudden stretch hurting in the best of ways. Only able to make out the deep groan that rumbled in his chest at the warm feeling of your pussy, wrapped tight around his length. His hands moved to your hips. Gritting his teeth, he pulled back slowly, and thrust back in with a new speed. One that built up rather quickly, leaving you mewling in his grasp. The pain fading into pleasure as you grind your hips wildly against his own, mind delirious on the rapturous push and pull of his cock. The overall sensation in general, unleashing all that pent up tension on one another.

His breath all over your face while he continued to drive into you with reckless force. There's no question, Joker was dominant in all his aspects. Which would include sex. The same amount- if not more- of unhinged and rigorous nature. Would be nearly impossible to surpass that and try to take control over him. You like to have some kind of control yourself. However, when it comes to the Joker, you're more than willing to submit. It feels perfectly right with him. It feels natural.

"Was this the fix you needed bunny?" J breathed out keeping his brutal pace. "For me to fuck the attitude right outta ya? Should a done this earlier. Tell me how it feels." He's got you practically bouncing on his cock, entranced with the way your breasts bounce in sync to his thrusts. He snakes a hand between your bodies to furiously rub your clit.

"Y-you ah! You feel so good," you cry out, running one of your hands through his sweat filled hair, the other clinging behind his neck. "So good!" He was hitting you so deep, bringing you closer to another orgasm. "Fuck- I'm close-"

Joker groans at your proclamation. "Go on, I wanna feel you cum on my cock." His words laced with delirious intent. Burying his face in the crook of your neck, biting down into the flesh.

The concoction of drawn pleasure and burning pain sending you over the edge. Your walls contract around his cock as you came, pulling him even deeper. Thighs wedging his waist to yours. He continues driving into you through your waves of ecstasy. Releasing strained groans at the way your cunt squeezes his cock. His pace never letting up, in his thrusts and his assault on your overly sensitive bud. It's becoming too much. The overstimulation, the soreness in your back from the unforgiving slamming on the surface.

Finding a sense of energy, you grab a handful of his locks. Pulling his face from your neck with a rigorous tug. The swift action drawing a gravelly moan from his mouth, accompanied with a slight roll in his eyes as he snapped his hips up rather more sharply. His moan. It was a sound completely new to your ears. And in that split second, you took pride that you had managed to lure it out.

Slowing his movements, Joker laughed when he looked at you- actually laughed. Short but piercing cackle in a manner resembling he was impressed. You twist the feeling back into your shoulders. "Ohh there's that spark. What's the matter doll? This position hard on ya?" He laughs again, seeing you grow antsy, trying to push your upper body off the wall yet still trying to ride his cock. "Tell ya what, cum for me again," he muses, "and I might consider rewarding you with a ah, softer surface, hmm."

Bearing the offer in mind, you could only manage a couple eager nods as he regains his speed. Clinging onto him for dear life as he brings you to another body shattering orgasm. Clawing at his scalp while you scream into the hot flesh surging from beneath his collar.

Groaning in approval, Joker pulls out. But he isn't done with you yet. He keeps you in his arms as he hastily walks over to the bed. Kneading the roundness of your ass. He tosses you on top of the mattress. Still in your haze, you spread for him, wanting more. Needing more. He brought himself over you, wedging his frame between your legs that instinctively went to wrap around his waist. Pulling him closer as he reenters you, digging his jagged nails into the plush of your hips. Rolling his own against you rather steadily with long, deep strokes. It actually seemed affectionate, like he was simply relishing the sensation of your velvety walls sheathing tight around his cock.

His hand glides it's way to your neck, gripping it. With a sharp inhale, he shifted his hips to pound into that spot which made you scream. He continued hard with that. Knocking the air from your poor lungs, leaving you a winded mess. Nothing but broken cries and moans leaving your lips.

Joker peers right into you, a menacing look in his piercing gaze. He growls, "who do you belong to?" In that scarily sexy possessive voice. His rough thumb granting your sensitive bud with satisfying friction. Making it all the more difficult for you to answer. By the rapid way he rubbed you and his desperate thrusting, he was close. You could tell. Also by the pain filled strain in his face, he was holding back. Not ready to let go until you gave him the answer he wanted. Desired. Craved. Demanded.

"Y-you! I belong to you- fuck! I-I'm yours!" You moan aloud, not an ounce of hesitation in your jarring voice. "I'm yours Joker!" Everything felt amazing- so surreal- in that moment. Like nothing else mattered, but bringing this man to completion alongside you. Which hit you hard like a freight train, you came violently with a broken moan. The powerful orgasm racking your entire body from the inside out as you came messily around him.

Joker surged forward, swallowing your moans as he kissed you. To the best of your dizzy abilities, you kissed him back. His weight nearly crushing you. He placed his sticky forehead against yours, chasing after his own release. One powerful thrust deep inside you, he came with a trembling moan. The sight of his pleasure contorted face frightening in an entirely beautiful way. His cock throbbing while his hot seed filled you. Some of it seeping out, gliding down and falling onto the mattress below. The feeling made you shudder. He rolled his hips into you a couple more times, making sure to empty into you.

You felt so warm, so full. He gave you one last gentle kiss before pulling out. You whimpered weakly at his movements. He shifted to plop down right next to you, laying outstretched on his back to collect himself. His arm went under you, allowing your head to rest atop his bicep. The same arm reaching to rub the side of your head. Your hand slid under his shirt to graze his chest.

Was quite the aftermath. You both lay spent, chests heaving as you catch your breaths. Warmed with sweat, hair a mess, makeup worn. Clothes and weapons scattered the floor. Your body covered in various marks- bruises, red patches, a slash mark, cherry topped with J's red and white paint splotches. True to his word- he broke you. Meanwhile the only marks on Joker were your lipstick trails and a couple bruises on the areas you nipped, kissed, and sucked. It was a mess.

A wonderful, chaotic mess.

Joker was the first to get up. You sat up, attempting to stand from the bed, but J insisted you stay seated. You clearly needed more time to recover. He slipped on his boxers before grabbing a couple things from the dresser drawers. An extra dress shirt, a couple rags, and a bottle of antiseptic.

He handed you a rag to clean yourself with. And the shirt, identical to the one he wore, to put on- considering he tore your undergarments to shreds. You wrapped it snug around your frame, not bothering with the buttons.

The cut on your stomach wasn't deep, therefore it didn't require attention. Regardless, he cleaned it anyway. He had done it all silently while sitting next to you, neither said a word. You looked an absolute wreck, that you were sure of. A plethora of thoughts swarmed your head. Many questions, different emotions..

What happens now?

Joker decided to break the ice as he finishes wiping your cut, "so uhh.. no more hard feelings?" Tongue running over his paint smeared lips, he glances at your face. Parts of his skin exposed due the the make up being rubbed away. Least you weren't the only one that looked a total wreck.

You calmly ponder before replying, "I.. guess not." Circling back to what you were upset about in the first place. Maybe it was the post orgasmic bliss that interfered with your thinking. Putting you in a better mood. Or perhaps it was the fact that you shouldn't have been so mad to begin with. Yeah, the fact he had you followed is enough to trigger you. But looking past the initial fury clouds, it shouldn't come as a surprise. It's understandable. You are part of Joker's crew. So he'll keep tabs on you, like everyone else.

"You guess?" Joker pushes for a better answer. He appeared to have a million things going through his busy mind, yet he didn't speak them.

Ya see, that's the thing. You're not like the rest of the crew. Apart, yes. But you're nothing near, nothing close to them. Joker knows this, he's just as aware about it as you are. If he really thought you to be a threat to his operations, he would've gotten rid of you. Simple as that. None of this having you followed, time and energy invested in a task deemed pointless- since his goons are at his disposal. One smidge of trouble, disappointment, attitude, disloyalty.. and they're killed off. The only one you checked on that list is definitely the attitude, and it was merely enough to get on his nerves. Had it been any of the others that given him the amount which you have, they'd be a rotting corpse by now.

So this must actually mean something.

Or maybe it doesn't.

Nonetheless, you hadn't the mind to ponder deep into it. There'll be plenty of time later. As Joker simply stood to collect his discarded attire to redress. Handing you your red cat suit in the process. You smile up at him, "water under the bridge, J." He returned a grin back. A cocky one at that, but one that didn't mask malicious intent.

End of part 7. I hope that wasn’t too bad!

#More to the Madness #joker #heath ledger joker #ledger joker x reader #joker x female reader #joker x y/n #ledger joker x y/n #ledger joker x female reader #the dark knight #fanfic

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alonelytinywriter · 4 years

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Dark Shadows

Yandere! Ex-Villain! Present Mic / Yandere! Ex-Villain! Eraserhead / Original Female Character

Warnings: Lemon-ish (mentioned), Self-Harm mentions (nothing described, just heavily implied), strong language, kidnapping, mentions of pretty typical yandere stuff. Ye Have Been Warned.

Playlist ~ Chillhop Radio

Name: Oshima Mia ~ Birthday: January 3rd ~ Age: 24 ~ Hair Color: Black ~ Eye Color: Rose Gold ~ Gender: Female ~ Height: 5′2′’ ~ Quirk: Feline ~ Occupation: Bartender

Appearance: Mia is a small, fair-skinned girl. She has rose-gold eyes with full, dark lashes, and a dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Her canine teeth are more pronounced and that, along with the full pointed ears and long, thick tail the grows from the base of her spine, are not the only aspects of her Quirk that manifest physically, although they are the most noticeable. Her hair, like her ears and tail, is black and typically styled into twin messy buns, braids, ponytails, or the like. She rarely wears her hair down, as she doesn’t like to fool with it. ~ Mia’s causal outfits normally consist of shorts or jeans, simple t-shirts, and comfortable flat shoes, although while working as a bartender, she amassed a collection of short skirts, shirts with too-low necklines, and dresses that where barely there. Whatever helps bring in those sweet, sweet tips at the end of the night.

Quirk: Feline ~ Mia’s Quirk causes her body to possess many characteristics akin to a feline, such as retractable claws, paws on the surface of her hands, and her spine growing differently, resulting in her developing a flexible vertebrae with elastic cushioning on the disks and a much longer rotation along the spine, much like a cat itself. Despite all this, her Quirk never really leaned toward the Hero side of the spectrum, and she therefore decided to explore other career options, leading her to take a job as a bartender. ~ Power - 1/5 ~ Speed - 2/5 ~ Technique - 3/5 ~ Intelligence - 3/5 ~ Cooperativeness - 4/5

~ Dark Shadows ~

~ The entryway to the club was like trying to walk through a wall of sound, and the inside was filled with dry-ice smoke, colored lights, and slender limbs that appeared and disappeared inside the churning smog as the patrons danced. Hizashi and Shouta had only just stepped past the bouncer when Hizashi’s eyes were drawn to the bar and he stared. She was beautiful - hair nearly the precise color of black India ink and piled atop her head in a pair of messy twin buns, liner smudged around her eyes thickly, lips painted red as blood from an open wound, and skin so pale it nearly glowed. She wore a knee length black dress that clung to her curves in the most delicious ways, a scrap of silk and lace that accented her cleavage (although there wasn’t much to show) and showed her legs (which seemed to go on for miles, despite her height), while covering her arms. And a body harness that encircled her waist, chest and neck added a wildly dark aspect to her outfit that fit the club perfectly.

~ It wouldn’t be any of this, however, that would draw Shouta’s attention. It would be the two pointed cat ears that flicked impatiently atop her head, the tail that curled and uncurled in time with the music, her slitted pupils which widened slightly as she glanced over the crowd. Someone sauntered to the bar, leaned forward, and said something so funny that the bartender threw her head back and laughed - a sound like resonated through the club like a beacon, light and clear and 100% female - and her canine teeth glinted sharply in the dim light. She was a heteromorphic feline, and it was noticeable.

~ Twelve minutes. It took Shouta exactly twelve minutes to case out the bar, for Hizashi to approach and make first contact, for Shouta to order the first drink. In that twelve minutes the two ex villains realize two things - One: The girl was clearly anxious around them both. Two: She didn’t recognize either of the ex-villains . . . or she didn’t care. There was fear in her eyes, that much was true, but it wasn’t directed towards them. It seemed more broad than that - the sounds, the lights, the bodies pressed against one another. Whenever a patron would lean in to closely the girl would pull back, ears flattening against her head as she frowned minutely. If the second bartender behind the counter brushed against her reaching for a bottle of liqueur, the girl violently flinched.

~ Her voice was smooth as she spoke to them when they took their seats, and both ex-Villains noted how her cheeks dusted brightly with a rosy tint as she took their order, how the blush deepened when they complemented her as she poured the two shots into the rainbow hued glasses before them. It was adorable. The way she pouted when she couldn’t reach a bottle she needed. How her cheeks puffed out when a extremely large, extremely drunk male ordered the same drink, for the fifteenth time in a row, her breath whistling between her lips, alerting the bouncers standing near the door that the man had clearly reached his limits. How she hissed at the man who was brazen enough to reach out and stroke his hand along one of her ears. She slapped the man, and Shouta was the one to notice the pink and black dappled pads along her hand that oh-so-closely resembled a cats’ paws. They talked of nothing but the girl when she attended to the other patrons, and when she stood before them, all doe eyes and blushing cheeks, the two had a hard time hiding their attractions.

~ They want nothing more than to kidnap her then, as she walks home from her shift at the bar as the sun rises, but as Hizashi stares at her small form he worries that she may not like either of them very much if they do so and after several quite moments of deliberations, Shouta agrees. Instead they follow their darling from the bar to a bus stop, and from the bus stop to her home, which is nothing more than a small apartment settled above a flower shop that smelled, of all things, peaches and wine. They couldn’t see into the apartment, due to its location on a main road, and being on the second floor, but they knew where she lived, and they both attended to their own plans to investigate the apartment later. To make sure it was good enough for their Darling, of course.

~ The two spend weeks at the bar after that first night, talking with the bartender, Mia as they found out, laughing through their drinks as she poured them and speaking softly of Mia when she attended to other customers. But one night, nearing the third week, they enter and realize that Mia is not behind the bar. It shouldn’t have been so surprising - she had worked every day up until then - so that she finally had a day off should not have shocked the two as it did, but when they realized that Mia was not where they expected, they glanced between themselves and the bar as if she would appear from their will alone.

~ “’Zashie! Sho - O - ota!”

~ Mia’s hair was down for the first time since the two had first meet her, pooling on the plastic vinyl of the booth as Mia waved wildly, a drink resting on the table before her, as well as enough empty glasses to knock out an American frat party. She was visibly swaying in the seat, her eyes glinting between the two men as they approached, surprise written across their faces. It doesn’t take long for the two to get Mia talking, and once she does she’s brazenly open for the first time, her answers coming freely as they ask about her childhood - which had been normal to the point of boring - to her Quirk - which she playfully describes as “Beautifully useless.” - to the bright ring that seemed to run through the tip of her tail - “My parents hated it, but when I was a kit, one of my older brothers accidentally shut my tail in a door, breaking two of the bones. They had to remove then to prevent infections and it made that part of my tail . . . floppy, I guess is the word for it. It didn’t sit right. So I wanted something to make it sit. And the piercing didn’t hurt at all cause it’s all numb through there anyways cause of the bones bean gone an all, and look ~!” Mia waves her tail in front of their faces, its long length unfurling and twitching, causing a ringing bell to sound. there, attached to the ring, was a small golden bell.

~ It was almost a good enough act to hide the shadows beneath her eyes, the way her ears laid back at the smallest of movements, the way her hands rubbed over her forearms again and again. They laughed, and pretended to drink with Mia as she continued to chat, seeming for all the world as if they were simply drinking with a friend but there was something . . . darker. Something darker that seemed to blanket the group as the questions became more personal and the responses became more clipped. Shouta’s question of her family had been met with stony silence, and for a moment the group feel silent as the club continued to blare around them. Finally, Hizashi broke the silence.

~ “What made you deride to drink so much tonight, Little Listener?”

~ Mia almost looked like she wouldn’t respond for a moment, eyebrows furrowed and lips pouted, but then she spoke, and her voice was barely audible over the din of the club. “Ahh, you know, life isn’t the best. Ever. So sometimes I drink so I don’t reme-mem-ber just how . . . not the best it is.”

~ She refused to go into more detail than that, even when Hizashi tried to get her explain again and again. In the end the two escorted Mia to her home as the sun rose above the rooftops, despite her never telling either men where she lived. She was slurring heavily, eyes nearly closed as they shouldered her door open and led her to her bed. Her breath was already calm and even by the time her head hit the pillow, and Hizashi wondered if she hadn’t been sleep walking after all.

~ Hizashi makes sure to leave a glass of water on her nightstand, along with several Advil, his hands fluttering over her form as he debated whether she would be more comfortable out of the hoodie and jeans she wore, but before he could come to a resolution Shouta moved forward and drew the sleeve of her hoodie up her arm, revealing a patchwork of bruises and fine line cuts that seemed to span the length of her forearm and biceps.

~ It’s nearly lucky that Mia had already passed out from the drink at that moment, because Shouta is not quiet as he striped her of her clothes, revealing more bruises along her legs, although there didn’t seem to be any more of the cuts.

~ Shouta seethes silently, but Hizashi’s voice, when he speaks, holds enough emotion for them both: “We will save her.”

~ They begin to actively coming around more and more after that, running into her outside the bar, the park, the grocer, the butcher. It happens so often that Mia stops wondering if she’s going to see them again and merely wonders when. They became a group, one that went to events together and on the nights when Mia and the boys would go out together, the nights when the sun was rising on the horizon as they attempted to stagger home, it becomes common place for the boys to crash on the couch together. One or the other would make a light breakfast if they woke before Mia, and if she woke before them they would wake to donuts and coffee from a shop down the street. She had admitted a few weeks into the arrangement that she didn’t really know how to cook, and she didn’t have time to learn, so why both when she could just get everything she needed already cooked for her?

~ Summer fades into fall and by the time winter comes the two ex-Villains have more than learned that despite her happy and lighthearted front, Mia was suffering from both depression and anxiety. They knew when it bothered her more becomes her clothes, which would normally display more than enough skin in their opinion, would become revealing no matter the weather. It was due to the bruises, the cuts, they were sure, and as they had found no evidence of a boyfriend, or girlfriend, or even an abusive family member, the two had been forced to confront the notion that Mia was doing that to herself - that she was harming herself.

~ They decide to confront Mia about it, but the night they plan on bringing it up Mia never shows to the coffee shop. At first the two assume that she had to work, something that had made her late or a no show to their meetings before, but after visiting the bar and learning that she hadn’t even been scheduled for that day Shouta and Hizashi decide to visit her apartment. And it’s a wreak. Door broken from its hinges, furniture tipped and thrown across the room, and there, in the bedroom along the door - blood. A single, bloody hand print smeared against the creamy paint. Pinned beneath a knife is a note with a brief message: If you want the girl back, you know where to find me.

~ And they do. It takes nearly three and a half days to find the cocky little fucker who took their darling from them and the moment they step through the doorway of the Yukaza hideaway, blood begins to fall. The last body - the little punk who lead the operation - hits the floor long before they actually find Mia. And when they do Hizashi openly begins to weep while Shouta stares in horror.

~ Mia was drugged, clearly so, and hurt badly. She was hung from the rafters of the hideaway by her wrists, her toes barely touching the ground. Her clothes had been cut from her, non to gently judging by the smooth red line that ran from the hallow of her neck to her belly button. Both lips were swollen and bleeding, her cheek was clearly broken, and bruises covered nearly every inch of her body. But, Shouta sighed in relief as he carefully cut her down and began wrapping her in his over sized coat, she seemed to have been used as a human bunching bag rather than a sexual toy, and for that he was grateful.

.~ Mia wakes up in the hospital, and afterwards Shouta and Hizashi offer to allow Mia to stay with them. “You’re place isn’t safe anymore.” Shouta points out, using her fear against her. “The men who kidnapped you must have had a reason. What if they come back for you?” In the end, Mia agrees, and through the next few months the two help Mia as she begins her painful recover and by the time winter becomes spring Mia is fully healed. Physically at the very least. She suffered from nightmares nearly every time she laid her head down to go to to sleep, and during the day the smallest of noises, which bothered her before, would send her spiraling into a panic attack. She, on more than one occasion, took swings at both Shouta and Hizashi in her sleep, but neither men resented her for it. It broke their hearts to see their darling this way, and one or the other commonly sleeps with her at night despite her protests that she can sleep alone.

~ A free weekend comes up, something that rarely happens as both men are much too often busy with their jobs - although Mia never does learn where the two work - and the group decide to spend that Friday night binge watching Studio Ghibli movies and drinking their way through a tall bottle of sake. Their nearly to the end of Pom Poko when Hizashi makes the first move. They had planned this for weeks now, and the both were sure of how this would end, whether Mia truly wanted this or not. They had been kind and caring. They had waited. And now, with Mia laying on the couch between the two of them, cheeks rosy from drink, they knew it was time for them to have their reward.

~ Mia nearly bolts from the couch when Hizashi suddenly leans into her and she fills his lips on her neck. But Shouta’s hands where on her shoulders, holding her down and rubbing soothing circles all in the same motion. “Guys, what are you -” but she doesn’t get to finish her sentence before Shouta’s lips are on hers and Hizashi whispered hushed words into her neck. Their hands were every where at once, pressing against her skin, slipping beneath her clothes. Mia couldn’t breath past the lips on hers, the smell of wine on their breath mingling with hers made her dizzy causing her mind to spin.

~ It isn’t until their laying together in the bed, skin sweaty and slightly out of breath that the words where spoken under Hizashi’s breath: “I love you.” And when the words are whispered back to them both, softly and of so sweet, the two ex-villains can barely believe it. it seems so sweet to hear after so long, and the face that she falls asleep only moments later, head pillowed on Shouta’s chest and cradled against Hizashi’s front, they feel as if they are on top of the world. Finally, Mia had accepted them. Finally, after nearly a year of conditioning their Darling, all their hard work had finally paid off.

~ They’re both gone when Mia awakes however, and she thinks little of it. They’re both often gone when she awakes nowadays, so she goes about her business, even a little grateful that the boys where gone. It gave her time to muddle over her actions the previous night. It was hard to remember how she had acted. She had been so . . . so wanton. She hadn’t even questioned the two men, and looking back she wondered if she should have. Memories still cloud her thoughts as she walks into the kitchen, towel drying her hair, a blush coating her cheeks as the look in Shouta’s eyes as he stared up at her from between her thighs replays in her minds eye. But a voice stops her train of thought just as she reaches the fridge, the voice of an anchor man from the news, speaking urgently.

~ “ - in the area are urged to use extreme caution. both Villains are known to be extreme dangerous, and despite their four year hiatus, we are still told that the Villains Eraserhead and Present Mic are not to be approached. If spotted, please, report to a profession, and they will respond. Again, all citizens in the area are urged to used extreme caution. Both villains are known - “ It isn’t the words that stop Mia. No. Its the reflection of the T.V. screen in the window. A screen showing to photos of men that Mia knew disturbingly well.

~ Shouta and Hizashi. Shouta and Hizashi dressed in gear that Mia had seen them both leave in more than once. Shouta and Hizashi staring at the viewer with glares hard enough to shatter ice. Shouta and Hizashi were villains.

~ Before Mia can process what she’s doing, she finds herself at a window, fingers tugging desperately at the latch. They lived at the edge of the city, in a low structured two story home that wouldn’t be a problem to jump from - she had fallen farther for less as a teenager - if only she could get the stupid fucking things open. No matter how long or hard she tugged, she couldn’t seem to make a single one budge. And when she approaches the front door, already sure of what she’ll find, she can’t help the sob that escapes when she finds it locked as well.

~ She was so stupid. How could she have fallen for them? It had never been a problem before. They had made no effort to convince her to leave the house, and why would she? They had always brought everything she had ever needed. Food, clothes, toiletries, anything she had ever mentioned or stated she needed or wanted. They had always appeared with it the next morning, and when Mia had lamented how none of Shouta’s cats seemed to like her, he had left the house without a word and appeared only hours later, a simple ginger kitten in his hands. They had cooked for her, and cleaned after her, held her after her nightmares and been so . . . so . . . so kind. No matter what, they had both treated her as if she were something fragile, something could easily be broken. Even when she had been sandwiched between the two, heavy breath on her neck and their bodies pressed tightly against hers, they had treated her as if she were nothing more than a porcelain doll.

~ By the time Shouta and Hizashi arrive at the house that night Mia has calmed a bit, sitting with the small ginger cat in her lap and a large knife next to her. To say the two men are surprised is a understatement, but the moment their eyes locked on the T.V. they understand. “You know.” Mia doesn’t say a word. She merely stares. “Did you see the news?” A small head shake and Shouta sighs, stepping forward lightly but Mia reacts violently, her ears flattening against her skull, her tail puffing with rage or fear, they weren’t sure. She bolted from the couch, Ginger falling the floor with a disgruntled meow, knife already in her hand. “Mia. You don’t want to do this.”

~ “Fuck you ‘Zashi.” Hizashi startles at the use of his pet name, his eyes meeting Shouta’s for a moment before Mia draws their attention back. “Why? Why could you just tell me the truth? Why did you lie to me? Why - “ Mia bites back a sob, the knife clattering from her fingertips as she stumbled backwards.

~ “Didn’t you watch the rest, baby?” Hizashi croons. “Didn’t you see the part where the two Big Bad Villains died?” And it’s true. Hizashi forces her to watch the T.V., really watch it for the first time in hours, and she saw that his words were true. The Hero All Might had defeated both Villains, whipping the floor with them both. They were pronounced dead on scene and while the news station continued to show repeated clips of the fight as a newscaster spoke, Hizashi walked forward and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Don’t you see, little listener? We killed ‘em, those Villains. All Might owed us a favor, and we finally cashed it out.”

~ “But what you did -”

~ “Does it really matter any more?” Shouta moved forward and melded to her front. “We can be with you. And we will. We’ll spoil you rotten and give you everything in the world. You just have to say you’ll be ours. That’s all. Just say it baby.” Mia refuses to listen, sobbing and moving to pull away, but both men refuse to let her go, cooing soft words of reassurance.

~ “It’s okay, little listener.” Hizashi soothes later, his hands stroking over her skin as they lay in bed together, Mia fully exhausted from her tears. “You don’t have to love us right now. we love you plenty to make up for it. And we’ll never stop loving you.”

#yandere #yandere thoughts #yandere erasermic #yandere bnha #bnha #eraserhead #present mic #yandere eraserhead #yandere present mic #yandere erasermic x ofc #lemon #ish #no beta ill die a (wo)man

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brain-jarred · 3 years

Text

Prologue, part 2

BREAKING NEWS Interview with Justice of the Meteor Brigade October 24, 1992

I was lucky enough to catch Justice after the Meteor Brigade’s battle with a mutant bear today, and I kept him long enough to ask for an interview with him about life as a superhero and some questions all of us want to hear answered. You’ve all seen the news lately, and now, it’s time for it to be confirmed. Sitting down in the top floor of an apartment building, I conducted the interview everyone has been waiting for. Here is a sitdown interview with Justice, the leader of the Meteor Brigade.

Interviewer: Good afternoon, Justice. Thank you for agreeing to this interview—really, it’s more of an honor than I could ever express. Is it difficult leading the Meteor Brigade? With all the monsters you have to fight all the time, I imagine it must be tiring.

Justice: It’s not as tiring as you’d think! Really, I enjoy it. I get to hang out with my best buds all the time, and really, it’s great! Keeping you guys out of danger is what we live to do.

Interviewer: I see. I’m glad you all don’t see it as too much of a burden. Have you ever worried you all will fail to defeat the mutant creatures? They look terrifying.

Justice: There have definitely been some times where I was worried things weren’t going to go as planned, but with that sort of thing, you have to keep your head up and act like nothing bad is going on. The team and I all have our superpowers for a reason, and we’re going to use them. We’re here to protect everyone. That’s our responsibility.

Interviewer: Scientists as of lately have done more research on the mutant monsters, and they’ve found connections to meteorites that came from space. The properties in the creatures’ blood seems to match those of the meteorites. Would you happen to know anything about this?

Justice: I do, actually. That’s something Vrain has told us about. Vrain is an alien from outer space, you know. Those meteorites are very powerful, actually. They’re what gave the Meteor Brigade superheroes our superpowers, and they’re also, unfortunately, what’s mutating these creatures. I

Interviewer: A double-edged sword. We were very lucky that you all had your own encounters with the meteorites, or else our city would probably be destroyed.

Justice: I don’t like to imagine that! I’m very grateful that the team and I found the meteorites, too. Protecting you guys may be a full-time job, but it’s very rewarding, and the team has all learned so much since we formed three years ago. Learned enough that I’m able to be here with you answering questions.

Interviewer: It is a privilege. You all have been named public heroes, celebrated in the streets, spoken to schools and at conferences…we’re all very lucky you encountered those meteorites. Do you think the power of those meteorites could be harnessed by other humans like you all? Except for Vrain, of course.

Justice: Well…I don’t doubt it could be…

------

BREAKING NEWS Billionaire Investments Allow for Anyone to be a Superhero November 29, 1993

Due to recent groundbreaking developments, contributions from a local billionaire and a team of eager scientists have led to a new possibility that will let the Meteor Brigade fight alone no longer— harnessing the power of the mysterious powerful meteorites that gave the Meteor Brigade members their power, scientists have created a way for anyone to become a superhero, no matter who you are.

“It really is an incredible feat,” the man in charge of it all, who chose to remain anonymous, told me when I asked for comment. “Upon the formation of the Meteor Brigade, I was asking myself the question. Why? Where did they come from? Why are they so powerful? I’ve been following the team closely, learning all I can about them, and now I understand. Those mysterious meteorites contain DNA-altering molecules that empower anything they touch, and it works most effectively on humanesque creatures.

That’s the reason why all of these mutant animals keep attacking our city. Those molecules work differently on those animals. They’re not like us humans. And now, any human that wants to be as powerful as a member of the Meteor Brigade can become one at little cost. Anyone can be a superhero! It’s a child’s dream come true.” The billionaire’s dream has already produced results. I’ve seen people jumping abnormally high, super-climbers, and more running around the city. They even help fight against the mutants that try to attack. I watched the Meteor Brigade attack a mutant cat recently with the help of at least five new heroes—they all looked like civilians, but they had super abilities.

I could see that the Meteor Brigade seemed to be faltering a little bit. Understandably, they must be stunned by the new additions to their protection of the city. After the battle, when the large, mutated cat was lying on the ground, defeated, I saw the heroes all descend to flat ground. The new heroes all gave each other high-fives and laughed gleefully, looking very prideful in their assistance with the battle. The Meteor Brigade, however, all huddled together in one big clump, all eyeing the new heroes closely. We haven’t heard much from the Meteor Brigade about the new research and heroes, so I took this opportunity to try to find their thoughts.

I tried to request commentary from Justice after the battle, but, unfortunately, he leapt away from me rapidly after giving me a strange look. I wouldn’t be surprised if soon, every single person in the city has superpowers. Perhaps we all could become a new era of the Meteor Brigade ourselves with these new, incredible abilities, and it’s all thanks to the billionaire and his investments in such a complex field of research. With the new heroes, the world will have even more protection against the strange, mutated creatures that plague our city. Now, any human, regardless of where they came from, can be the hero they dreamed of being when they were a child. Let’s all save the world together, but this time, as superheroes.

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

BREAKING NEWS President Ruthson, dead! A tragedy befalls the nation. January 1st, 1994.

It is with a heavy heart we must announce the death of our nation’s leader, President John Ruthson. He was murdered last night, at exactly midnight. The new superheroes that had helped the meteor brigade have betrayed us, led by the no longer anonymous Billionaire beneficiary, Lincoln Little. What's worse, they are being headed by their own leader, who has sought to call himself “Superego.” This real life super villain broke into our office early this morning, and demanded an interview be published, or else our brave reporters would be killed. Viewer’s discretion is advised in the following interview.

Interviewer: So why? Why did you murder the president? Superego: It wasn't a murder. It was an execution. But I will tell you the reason he had to die. I will tell you now. Our goal as the utopians is to usher in well...a utopia. *Chuckles* It's simple, really. The president, and his cabinet, the jury, every secretary, every government worker, and their allies, are standing in the way of that. Interviewer: So you…”executed” them.

Superego: Yes. Interviewer: Just what kind of utopia are you trying to create? Superego: democracy is a sham. It works well enough on a small scale, but on a national level? No. It's too slow, too inefficient. It only serves to stop the natural course of evolution. To put it bluntly, and perhaps in a way that fails to capture its beauty, we seek totalitarianism. One ruler, who knows what to do, what best course of action to take the nation. Now, a normal human has flaws, they make mistakes. But a superhuman? Well- A superhuman would make the perfect leader. If we can just find out how to give one the perfect combination of powers, a perfect leader could be born, and would lead our species into the next step of evolution. Interviewer: (it was at this point i was too horrified to say anything.) Superego: I will be taking my leave then. (I was disturbed at how gently he said these words, almost shamefully)

And with that the interview ended. I will leave you all with one final warning. If you are a politician, seek shelter immediately, the goals of the utopians are no doubt to take over the world, and their first step is the murder of every single goverment worker and politician.

And for everyone else...be safe, and may god be with us all.

-----

BREAKING NEWS Thousands dead! January 27th, 1994

Over the past month, thousands of politicians, government officials, and workers have turned up dead. From small town mayors, to the supreme court. Every official who has worked at the white house is dead, killed by the 10 superhumans who make up the utopians. The meteor brigade has tried to protect them, but unfortunately, they failed to save them. A dark age has descended upon the USA, and other countries are reporting their politicians dead as well. We had no time to conduct a full interview with the meteor brigade, as they are busy protecting who is left, but we did manage to get a few words from justice. “Everyone...everything is looking dark right now. And I know it all seems hopeless, but we are going to get through this. We may have failed to protect those who have died, we may have our backs against the wall, but I can see that the utopians are getting reckless. They think that you, the people, are weak. They think they can just push you around. They can't. I know that even if their plan succeeds, even if they manage to take over the world, you will not stand by. You will not watch as they slaughter freedom. You will fight back, even without powers. Because, because everyone is a hero, and everyone has the power to save the world.” Thank you Justice.

Thank you meteor brigade. We must have hope.

BREAKING NEWS

Justice has died.

January 30th, 1994 Justice, also known as Quincey James Vonyant, died yesterday at the age of twenty four years.

There are no words to describe the light that we as the people have lost. No words can describe how utterly horrific his death was. He was murdered by Superego, and his body was found under rubble, headless and mangled. He died saving the mayor of Wichita, kansas. His twin sister, Clairity, who has revealed her civilian identity to be Clair Lily Vonyant, gave a few words at his funeral today. She asked that they not be printed, to which we obliged. Quincey’s funeral was short, for fear that it would be attacked by the utopians. He now rests in Southwillow graveyard.

Quincey Vonyant was a bright young man, full of life, full of bravery and courage. He was saddled with the duty of protecting the world at only 19 years old, barely an adult. And yet despite his young age, managed to do it with grace and with a smile. He gave up his pursuit of going to college and becoming a doctor in order to be a hero fulltime.

He had a beautiful heart, and loved kids. He often read to them at public libraries across the world. But despite all these good traits, it is important to remember that despite all his powers, his public image, and his heart, he was human, like us. He wasn't just a perfect person with no flaws or sorrows, he had them. I knew him well, speaking to him and interviewing him often has that effect. I lost a friend. And the world has lost a hero.

But we must remember his last words given to the press, and words he said often. Anyone can be a hero. And it's at times like this, we must rise to the challenge that the world has thrown at us. We can't give into despair, we must honor his memory, and hold onto hope.

BREAKING NEWS: Superego and utopians defeated, and the end of the meteor brigade.

February 17th

In a field out in Nebraska, Clarity avenged her brother and the thousands of people that superego killed. There was snow on the ground as I looked on at the catatonic body of Superego. He was not killed, but his brain was utterly shattered. I think we can all safely say good riddance. He will never use his mind to hurt others again.

#oc story #oc

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descendantofthesparrow · 5 years

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Harry Hook x reader - abandoned

@marvelfanatic004

Could you possibly do a story about reader being Mal’s sister and pregnant with Harry’s baby during D3 and Mal doesn’t know when she says she’s going to shut the barrier? With lots of reader and Harry fluff!

You rubbed your swollen stomach, holding new life, staring at the broken tv screen in lady tramlines hair shop, as beasty boy proposed to mal…your traitorous sister who abandoned you…for three years.

Its been three years since that fateful day when mal, evie, Carlos, and Jay went to Auradon.

Two and a half years since she broke and came back, when she saw you, she seemed surprised, as if she had forgotten you.

During the planning of getting ben back, she begged you to go along with it and she would have evie take you back to Auradon.

You refused, not wanting to leave your friends…your family.

Then…then…

She had just…left. Like the cowardly traitor she was.

And now, now after THREE FUCKING YEARS, she was finally getting more kids off the isle.

You knew you weren’t going to be one of them, you didn’t bother to fill out an application, and you knew she would never choose you. She offered to give you a better life ONCE before giving up. A hero she was? Yeah right, more like a backstabbing villain.

You glared as the core four and ben climbed into mals new purple limo-like she needed more fancy shit, she was more Auradon than isle now, she’d gone soft, weak.

The strong hold on to their promises, not afraid to say what they thought, not afraid to step up and call attention.

Mal was weak, she broke every single promise, she jumped on the bandwagon, she cowered and stepped down, letting others do the hard part and then took all the credit.

Just like all the pranks you did when you were young and mal taking credit and you were just her little henchmen.

You were lucky that your mother didn’t like it.

She demanded that mal start thinking for herself, evil queens didn’t use someones else's plot to rule the world, evil was original, not a copy cat.

It was one of the few times that you were higher than Mal in your mother's view.

Dizzy skipped down the stairs, a bright smile on her face. “omg (y/n)! can you believe im going to auradon~!” you smiled at the happy 16-year-old, you held no ill feelings toward the young teen, she deserved to leave the deary isle.

“I do, you belong there sweetie” dizzy squealed, wrapping her arms around you, you hummed, giving her a tight side hug.

“When you get there you have to let me babysit okay!”

Your smile dropped, but you faked one when dizzy pulled back “of course, who else would I let take care of the little one?”

Dizzy giggled, grabbing her designs and crafts from around the room, stopping at one.

“oh!” she grabbed it and raced back over to you, holding out an interesting necklace.

“This is for you!”

It had red gems and (f/c) jewels, with silver and gold vines with leaves decorating the front, it looked like a tiara made for a fae.

“the red ones are Harry's color see, and the (f/c) ones are yours! I wanted to look like the trees of the fae like in that old book you showed me!”

You stared at it in awe “oh dizzy” you teared up, damn hormones, “I love it!” you hugged dizzy, careful of the baby bump.

“ill treasure it forever!”

Dizzy squealed “im so happy you like it! Oh!” dizzy’s aunt Anastasia came down the stairs, holding another one of dizzy’s suitcases

“come on diz, the limo is almost here”

Casting a look on the screen, you saw the barrier opening, the limo pulling in.

“aye, now love, I think its time we go home”

Strong arms wrapped around you, a thick Scottish accent purring in your ear. You sighed and nodded, grasping Harry's hand and letting him help you up.

“yeah yeah, let's go”

“bye (y/n)! bye, harry!”

“yeah yeah, bye ya runt”

“shush har, see ya dizzy!”

You exited the hair salon, entering the streets of the isle, some of the residents looking up and glaring but coward back when your eyes glowed bright (e/c) and harry flashed his hook, a crooked grin on his face.

You arrived at bargain castle, where you took the reigns after your precious sister turned mother into a lizard.

After the events of the coronation, many tried to salvage whatever they could from the castle, but you didn't let them, baring your sharp teeth and glowing eyes, the flames and shadows flickered around you. Making those who dared to try cower away and never return.

Harry was the only one to step through and manage to take something, and that caught your interest. Uma did too, glaring back just as harshly and stepping right up to you, sneering in our face.

You liked her, so you broke away from your sister's calling of ‘shrimpy’ and made peace with uma, the two of you ruling the isle.

And harry was one of your treasures, after some time, people had started to call him the consort of the isles queen.

Now, why would they be calling harry that? Because you and him had begun to…see each other? If that’s the right wording.

And no one dared to mess with the darker descendant of maleficent and the insane son of captain hook, so it was an easy match.

And it had been two years and 3 months since you had started..dating…and now, you smiled down at your protruding belly, felling the life move within.

You were pregnant with Harry's child. About 2 months pregnant to be exact. Still flat stomached enough to cover it with baggy clothes, mostly Harry's jackets and shirts.

Harry unlocked the main door, stepping in and leading you through, he quickly locked the door behind him and followed you up the stairs, and into the kitchen.

“so love” he started, plopping down on one of Cruella's old plumply chairs, sitting halfway on and his other half sticking up in the air.

“are we just gonna chill in here for the rest of the night or~” harry sang, wiggling his brows “we gonna have some fun!?” you sighed, walking over to him and sitting in his lap, laying your head down on his chest. “chill, im really tired.”

Harry hummed, sending vibrations to you “alright love” he wrapped his arms around you, snuggling into your hair and sighing happily, rubbing his thumb on your swollen stomach.

“boy or girl, the baby I mean?”

you thought for a second, before mumbling out “doesn't matter to me, ill love them even if they don’t have a gender.

Harry snorted, smiling softly “aye, I feel the same”

The two of you fell asleep on the plump couch, soft breaths, and faces tucked into the other.

---

“so my little fire fae!” your father strut around the room, being his extra self. “how's your life been~?”

now, lemme explain a thing, you had a much better relationship with your dad than mal did since you went out of your way to see him and he kinda just grew used to you and stopped trying to force you away, becoming a semblance of a real father.

You groaned, flopping into his chair and making a fart sound.

“that bad huh?”

“being pregnant sucks!!!” you moaned, pouting at your dad, who messed with his tall fire blue hair. “how’d you deal with mom when she was pregnant with me and mal?”

Hades barked a laugh “I didn’t! she had her” he made finger quotations “friends help”

You snorted, aka the people who would cower below her and the Tremaine sisters, sounded like the fairy bitch, but you digress “so how is harry?”

You smiled, you could talk about for hours “good, he hooked a couple people who tried to get in the castle to get me yesterday”

You sat up, clapping your hands “oh! Know what I heard~”

Hades slumped his shoulders and sighed exaggeratedly “what?!”

You grinned, teeth sharp “you tried to get out~”

Hades snuffed “yeah, didn’t work”

He turned, strutting up to you and tossing his scarf around your neck “now if you would be so kind, it's my nap time~”

You rolled your eyes, swinging your legs around and standing, bumping your fist into your dad's torso.

“yeah yeah, sleep well”

----

You watched as harry lept out of the barrier, catching his eyes as he turned back, he seemed to send you a message with those ocean blue eyes of his

‘I will come back, for both of you’

You nodded back, watching as uma emerged and the chaos ensued, you also caught her eye, and her mouth dropped open slightly at your slightly protruded lower torso.

You nodded at her, telling her to go.

You watched them all walk away, seeing Harry constantly glancing back before he became a tiny dot in the distance.

before pink smoke started to gather around you, you took a step back, eyes widening,

“wha-“

Everything went black.

---this is gonna be a 2 parter btw---

#descendants #Descendents #disney descendants #harry hook #harry hook descendants #harry hook x reader #harry hook imagine #pregnant reader #mals sister reader

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lu-undy · 4 years

Text

Chapter 25 - SBT

Here it is!

"Meow."

Lucien woke up to a soft sensation on his face. Soft, but noisy… The fluffy ball purred and purred against his cheek and mouth.

"Perle, laisse-moi dormir, s'il te plaît…"

[Perle, let me sleep, please…]

More purring and the Frenchman's eyes slowly opened. He sighed.

"Me voilà réveillé maintenant, tu es contente?"

[Here, I am woken up now, are you happy yet?]

She mewled and it mixed in with her purring. Lucien smiled at the soft sounds.

"Tu as encore dormi dans mon lit?"

[You slept in my bed again?]

"Meow."

"Tu sais que tu as ton propre lit, non?"

[You know you have your own bed, don't you?]

"Meow." She put a paw on Lucien's head in his hair and played with the salt and pepper locks. He smiled. It was such a childish and innocent thing to do.

It had been a few weeks now that he adopted her and Perle had always refused to sleep in her bed. Lucien would put her there but she would always climb on his big bed and sleep next to him, on his very pillow sometimes.

"Meow."

She played with his hair, again and again until he raised his eyes to her and she looked down. He raised his hand and took her delicate paw with his index and thumb. The pads on her toes were pink and so small…! Her paw itself was extremely soft. She let him stroke it and stared in his eyes with her deep blue ones.

Perle purred and moved to brush herself on his mouth. He smiled and kissed her.

"Oui, ma petite, moi aussi je suis content de te voir."

[Yes, my little one, I too am happy to see you.]

She loved his kisses and purred as loud as her tiny body could. Lucien chuckled.

"Maintenant que je suis réveillé, je ferais mieux de me lever. Tu viens?"

[Now that I am woken up, I had better get up and do something useful. Do you want to come along?]

Lucien got out of his bed and like a reflex, he turned and opened his hands on the bed. Perle jumped on his palms and he gently put her on his shoulder while going through his morning routine. The only part that she was not participating in was his shower.

The first few days, she would cry and mewl at the base of the shower space. She would jump in too, run to Lucien's ankle and hold on there while complaining repeatedly about the wetness of the water. But the poor little kitten would rather get soaked than be far from her master.

However now, Perle and Lucien both had developed a way for this little comedy to stop. He would leave her outside of the shower but would continuously talk to her from inside. She would answer too, and that way, she didn't feel left behind. Sometimes he would tell her about his day, others, he would just play with her.

"Perle? Je vais sortir, mon petit… et… bouh!"

[Perle? I will now come out, my little one… and… booh!]

"Meow!"

Lucien peeked his head out and Perle mewled her enthusiasm. He went back to his room with her on his shoulder again and put her on the bed to choose his suit. While he put it on, she watched him and as she soon got bored, she climbed down the bed and got closer to the mirror that Lucien was facing.

Perle tilted her head left and right trying to understand who that white kitten was and what she wanted. Hm. She raised an uncertain paw and tried to touch the other kitten's.

"Tu ne te reconnais pas? C'est toi, Perle."

[You don't recognise yourself? It's you, Perle.]

"Meow!"

Now, there were two Luciens too! What the hell was that sorcery!

Lucien smiled at her bewilderment and finished adjusting his tie around his neck.

"Allez viens, on va petit-déjeuner."

[Come along, we will have breakfast.]

Lucien exited the room and went through the corridor when he realised that he didn't hear the awkward gallop and the rhythmic tics of Perle's little claws on the tiled floor. He turned his back and looked down. She hadn't followed him.

"Perle?"

He went back to the room and found her fighting her reflection in the mirror still.

"Perle?"

He called again from the threshold but she was too absorbed in her fight with that other vicious white kitten to listen.

"Mon bébé?"

[My baby?]

She stopped sharp, pricking her ears up, and raised her eyes to him, standing at the door.

"Tu viens?"

[Are you coming?]

"Meow!"

She ran at him and he squatted down to carry her and drop her on his shoulder again before heading for the main door.

"Bastien a dit qu'il viendrait ce matin. J'ai commandé quelque chose pour toi."

[Bastien said he would come today. I have ordered something for you.]

Lucien put on his vest and jacket, and went to retrieve the plastic box that the young man had left at his door, the day before. He had tried an omelette with onions and potatoes and Lucien found the result very promising, even if a few more herbs could have enhanced the flavours. The bell rang at the door.

"Ah…"

He opened the door and Bastien was there with a package in his hands.

"Package for you, L! Oh," Bastien saw Perle on her master's shoulder. "Hello, Pearl."

The baby cat hissed.

"Doucement, Perle."

[Calm down, Perle.]

Bastien chuckled.

"She doesn't like people?" He asked.

"Non, the only one she tolerates is me as far as I know." Lucien answered. "My apologies, she is a bit aggressive."

"It's alright."

"Ah, and I have a box for you, Bastien. I have left a note with my comments inside, but it was very good."

"Oh! Thank you so much!"

"Thank you."

Bastien took his box and went away.

"Alors, ma petite Perle, regarde ce que Papa Lulu t'as commandé."

[So, my little Perle, look what Papa Lulu ordered for you.]

Lucien froze. The last time he had called himself Papa was… He took a deep breath and screwed his eyes shut, frowning. The simple word "Papa" was enough to make his stomach turn. He needed a moment.

"Meow?" Perle brushed herself on him and his shoulders relaxed.

He sighed.

"Ce n'est rien." He lied.

[It's nothing.]

Lucien went to the table and with his knife, he opened the small cardboard box neatly.

"Voilà."

[Here it is.]

He removed the paper here and there and extracted a pink collar with a silver pendant, as well as a harness and leash. Those were dark red and made of leather.

"Comme ça, tu peux aussi te dégourdir les pattes."

[With this, you will be able to follow me around on foot.]

He gently put Perle on the table and put the collar on. Her name was engraved on it and behind, his own name and a phone number, in case she got lost. The pendant itself was shaped like a heart. Lucien then helped her in her harness and attached the leash to it.

"Now, let's have some breakfast, shall we?"

"Meow!"

They exited the suite and soon, the hotel entirely. Perle hadn't complained when Lucien put all those things on her. She was quite happy about it. Now, she could walk without fearing that Lucien would abandon her. Not only had he promised, but he now was linked to her all the time via that leash. So as long as she felt some very light tension on her shoulders, she knew he was there.

"Perle, attends."

[Perle, wait.]

She stopped, sat down and looked up at him.

"Quand le petit bonhomme est rouge là-bas, on attend. On ne traverse que quand il passe au vert."

[When the little man is red over there, we have to wait. We cross the road only when he turns green.]

Lucien explained calmly. But then, it hit him. He had gone through that before. His mouth had said those words. Ha, raising Perle really felt like raising a child. Again.

"Meow?"

"Why? Because otherwise a car might pass by and hurt us. So we have to wait for them to stop."

Perle was sitting at the edge of the pavement. She raised a paw in front of her.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk…!" Lucien pushed her paw back on the pavement with the tip of his expensive, varnished, dark brown shoe. "Non, non, non, mon bébé. Tu attends sur le trottoir."

[No, no, no, my baby. You wait on the pavement.]

The light switched to red for cars and green for pedestrians.

"Maintenant, on regarde à droite et à gauche pour être sûr, et on peut y aller."

[Now, we look right and left to be sure, and we may go.]

They crossed the street. The other pedestrians half guessed what Lucien was saying and only smiled at his fatherly tone with his kitten. But the Frenchman couldn't care less about what other people thought. His entire world was at the end of that leash. His entire, fluffy, tiny, baby world.

Soon, they entered Victoria's diner.

"Hey L!"

"Bonjour, Victoria."

[Hello, Victoria.]

"Oh, hello baby Pearl!" Victoria came closer and the baby cat hissed.

"My apologies, she doesn't really like people."

"She likes you though. Weird taste she has, that baby kitty." Victoria said with a smirk as Lucien sat at his usual table.

"V…" He answered.

"What? It's true!"

"Fair enough." Lucien admitted with a smile.

"Meow!" Perle mewled. She tried to climb on the banquette to join Lucien, but the edge was in plastic and she couldn't get any grip on it to climb.

"Ah, attends, viens ici."

[Ah, wait, come here.]

Lucien scooped her and put her on his lap.

"So, what will it be for you guys?" She asked.

"Coffee and croissant for me. And if you have a bit of milk for her, as usual…?"

"Sure!"

"What will you have?" He asked her.

"Uhm, just a hot chocolate."

"Add it to my bill please, and come back quickly, she's hungry." Lucien said, seeing how Perle gnawed on his fingers.

Victoria nodded and disappeared.

"Tu as faim?"

[Are you hungry?]

Perle dug her teeth a bit deeper against Lucien's fingers.

"Aïe, d'accord, j'ai compris, tu as faim, pas la peine de mordre."

[Ouch, fine, I get it, you are hungry, no need to bite.]

"Meow!"

"Tsk, tsk, tsk." Lucien raised his index and looked at the the kitten seriously. "Pas la peine de geindre non plus. Et dis pardon, tu m'as mordu."

[No need to complain either. And say sorry, you have bitten me.]

"Meow!"

"Perle, tu veux que je me fâche?"

[Perle, do I need to tell you off?]

"Meow…"

"Je te pardonne. Mais ne recommence plus, d'accord?"

[I forgive you. But don't do it again, alright?]

Lucien put his hand flat on the table, palm facing upwards. Perle put her tiny paw in before jumping entirely in it and laying down.

"Here we are, coffee and croissant for the old man, milk for the kitty, and hot chocolate for me." Victoria laid them all on the table and sat opposite Lucien.

"Ah, many thanks, V. Perle, dis merci."

[Perle, say thank you.]

"Meow." She answered and went to the small plate with milk, to lap it.

"C'est bien, ma belle."

[Very good, my beautiful one.]

Lucien scratched her head and raised his cup to Victoria.

"Bon appétit."

"Thanks, to you too."

They both took a sip and it cleared their minds, especially Lucien's.

"So, you owe me, old man."

"Do I?" He asked.

"You got hired at the Queen Victoria or not?" She asked.

"I did. And here," Lucien put a paper on the table. "For you and your boyfriend."

Victoria blushed.

"How did you know? Did Joe tell you?"

Lucien smiled.

"Non, but I can tell when someone is in love."

"Oh, can you?" She teased.

"Mh-hm." He nodded. "Look at you, your cheeks are more pink than before, you wear clothes with brighter colours and you definitely smile more." Lucien explained.

"Oi! Are you saying I was grumpy before?" V asked.

"Well, I wasn't the one to say it." He answered with a chuckle.

"Oh yeah, you can laugh, you were grumpy too until you found Pearl, eh! And now look, you have completely adopted her, collar, leash and everything! You're even educating her as if she was a kid."

He nodded as he bit in his croissant.

"Oui, indeed, I do. She follows me almost everywhere."

They both looked at the baby cat who was lapping at the milk enthusiastically.

"Oh wait, those are actual free dinners?!" Victoria exclaimed when she read the leaflet that Lucien had given her.

"Oui, I got hired and I am the lead singer there now. I organise and manage the shows. You should come to see. The food is quite good, and the shows are the best."

"Sure, the shows are the best, eh? So much for bein' humble."

"Pardon my honesty." He said with a smirk.

"Jesus, you never stop…!"

He winked at her.

"But yeah, as much as it pains me to say it, you held your word and got hired in the poshest place in all of Oz…"

"Ha, and you had doubts…" He shook his head.

"How did you do it?" She asked.

"My usual confidence and a bit of charm."

"Christ almighty! You need to be told how to be humble!" Victoria said, exasperated.

"I don't think I need to be taught that." He arrogantly added, just for her to facepalm, and she did.

"Anyway, I'm happy you could find a job, and above all, someone to keep you company." Victoria said, looking down at Perle.

"Meow."

She was licking herself, trying to clean the milk on her face but couldn't reach it all.

"Viens, je vais te nettoyer."

[Come here, I will clean you.]

Lucien grabbed a paper towel and Perle hissed. She hated it.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Allons, ça ne va pas durer longtemps."

[Come on, it won't last long.]

He wiped her face and she clawed in the paper to shred it, hissing again. Lucien let go of it and let her destroy the thing. It stuck to her claws and paws, which made her even more mad. Both him and Victoria chuckled at the raging war between the kitten and the paper towel.

"Does she still cry when you leave?" Victoria asked.

"A bit, oui, I hear her mewling and clawing at the door. But when I come back home, I find her asleep on my pillow in the bed."

"Aww, such a cute baby she is."

"The most adorable, I think." Lucien said, looking at her with kind eyes.

-- Later, Lucien's suite --

Lucien had repeated the piece he wanted to play and sing for the next concert. It wasn't an easy piece, non, but he would do it. He would sing it in front of Duchemin, for her, that woman.

Perle was lying on the piano, her eyes half closed, staring at him. He stopped and took a deep breath before taking a glance at his watch. Lucien then stood up and went to put on his jacket.

Perle jumped down from the piano to the seat in front of it and finally the floor.

"Meow!"

"Je dois sortir de nouveau."

[I need to go out again.]

"Meow?"

"Non, tu ne peux pas venir, c'est pour le travail, ma belle."

[No, you can't come with me, it is for work, my beautiful one.]

Lucien pulled his trousers' legs up slightly and crouched down to scratch her head. Perle started mewling repeatedly. She knew he was about to go and leave her.

"Non, ma petite, je suis désolé, tu ne peux vraiment pas venir. Ce sont des affaires d'adultes, c'est bien trop dangereux pour un bébé comme toi."

[No, my little one, I am sorry, you really cannot come. This is adults' business, it's way too dangerous for a baby like you.]

He scooped her off her floor and kissed her head while she brushed herself against his mouth.

"Tu restes sage pour moi?"

[You keep quiet for me?]

Perle sat in his palms.

"Meow."

"Très bien. Je suis fier de toi."

[Very good. I am proud of you.]

He kissed her head again and heard her purr before dropping her on the floor again and leaving the flat. He locked the door and waited.

There was one muffled meow.

-- Maurice's street --

"Bonjour, Maurice."

"L, what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I have a matter to discuss with you. That, and a few questions."

"Do you need somewhere more calm?"

Maurice's question might have sounded idiotic as the dirty street was as calm as the air itself could be. But that was exactly why Lucien needed somewhere else. After all, one can't hear a conversation clearer than in pure silence.

"Oui, s'il te plaît."

[Yes, please.]

Mundy stood up and Lucien followed him. A few moments later, they found themselves in the beggar's hideout, underground.

"So, what can I do to help?"

"I went to the old hangar." Lucien started. "But someone showed up that ruined my plans and intentions."

"Ah?"

Lucien instantly saw the fake surprise in Maurice's eyes.

"Why didn't you tell me that there would be someone else?" The spy asked.

"I didn't think it would be relevant." Maurice answered. "But please, tell me how he managed to ruin your strategy, I am curious."

Lucien pointed to a chair. "May I?"

"Of course."

Both of them sat on wooden chairs, around the large oval table.

"Do you mind if I smoke?" Lucien asked.

"Be my guest."

"Many thanks." Lucien offered one to his host but Maurice declined. He lit his one and recounted the story.

"I intended to get myself captured so that Duchemin's men would take me straight to him. From there, I would deal with him."

"But?" Maurice anticipated.

"But, this hunter appeared and freed me from my captivity. A brilliant sharpshooter I must say. I know very few people who would have managed to pull the shots he did from such a distance. Every single bullet hit their target, not a single miss, and what bullets…? Custom made darts that I had never heard of before, a clever design."

There was the shadow of a smile on Maurice's lips.

"So I wonder." Lucien went on. "Who is he and why did you not tell me about him?"

"Ah, well, those questions both require long answers." Maurice cleared his throat. "What did he tell you about himself?"

"That he is a hunter but his preys are poachers, not beasts. If not for those outstanding shots he took, I would have taken him for a local hippie. However, there is something in his impressive accuracy that my head cannot quite understand. No simple hunter can be that skilled. Even during my time in the army there were atrociously few people who could shoot with such precision on so many shots. Non, there is more to that man."

Lucien paused to catch his breath.

"He told me he is also after Duchemin. I told him it was stupid and he would end up dead. His answer struck me."

"What did he say?" Maurice asked.

"Don't care." Lucien quoted the tall hunter.

Maurice smiled.

"Doesn't that remind you of anyone?" The beggar asked with a smirk. "Someone who wants Duchemin dead more than anything else?"

The Frenchman frowned and took a drag off of his cigarette.

"Is he my enemy?" He asked Maurice.

"Did he seem like one?" Maurice answered.

"Why do I have the feeling that you are hiding something about that man from me?" Lucien asked.

"Maybe that is because I am."

"Why not tell me?"

"Maybe that is because you have to find out for yourself."

Lucien raised his sharp eyes to Maurice. The beggar was smiling through his bushy grey beard.

#tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #sniperspy #SBT

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zombiesbecrazy · 4 years

Note

Hi, have you watched DC Universe Titans tv show? If you have, can you please do 11 + 12 from the hug prompts for Dick and Rachel? I'm in need for some father daughter bonding time ❤

Dick wasn’t sure of the exact moment that he had somehow turned into a dad, but it probably was around the time that he and Rachel were hiding out in the hotel and talking about what to put on their pizza.

Now he here was, becoming the ultimate cliché and pulling the minivan over to the side of the road because the two teenagers in the back were out of control and he just couldn’t focus on driving. He was ready to turn this car around and go home, but that was part of the problem of being on the run and not exactly having a home.

It was a little less of a made for TV movie though because one of said teenagers had morphed into a green tiger and the others eyes had turned black and curls of black smoke were surrounding her and filling the rest of the car. Rachel and Gar normally got along so well and Dick had no idea what had happened but now what they had been pretending was a simple road trip had turned into a potential death match in the backseat over something as silly as what kind of Pringles were the best.

It was the definition of escalating quickly and he was suddenly feeling an unwanted wave of empathy for Bruce and Diana from having to deal with he and Donna and the others over the years and that was something that he didn’t have time to consider right now.

“Kori, get Gar out and get him to calm down. I’ll take Rachel.”

Kori’s eyes were huge and disbelieving as she got out of the car. “How on earth do you suggest I do that?”

“No idea. We just need him to be a little less tiger.” Dick waves his hand in front of him, trying to push the smoke out of his eyes to no avail. “At the very least, if we get pulled over I don’t exactly have a permit for him.”

“Might want to look into that if this adventure is going to keep going.” Kori pulled the side passenger door open and pulled Gar out of the car, yelp of surprise coming from the large cat at being scruffed, grabbed a blanket and followed him into the tall grass of the field they were parked beside.

Dick undid his seatbelt, climbed into the back of the van and wrapped his arms around the still screaming girl, eyes black and shadows spreading across her skin, smoke and darkness swirling through the space. He still didn’t really know what he was doing, but this had worked a few times now so it was really his only option. Embracing Rachel hard and tight seemed to ground her when this happened, when the emotions and rawness of her powers took over and were wildly out of control, bleeding into the world. He babbled nonsense at her, telling her that she was going to be okay, that everything was alright, whispering all the things that pop culture and the earliest memories of his mother told him would help to soothe someone. The things that worked in the moment even when both people knew that they may not be really true.

It worked. The black suffocating vapor started to disappear, not into thin air but back into Rachel herself. Her skin tone went back to its natural hue and the unearthly screams disappeared into the simple and devastating, but thankfully recognizable, sounds of a crying and scared child in its wake.

He was trying to not think about the fact that every time this happened it took longer for it to recede, pushing back the worries about the day when this tricked stopped working for another time.

Probably when he was lying in a dingy hotel bed and staring up at the ceiling and not sleeping because he didn’t have the luxury to do that anymore.

Rachel finally was back in control and fiercely wrapped her arms around him tight. He could feel her shaking and she pressed her chin into his shoulder. “I started it. I don’t know what happened but all of a sudden it…” She trailed off and shook her head. “Gar’s going to hate me.”

“He won’t. Gar doesn’t hate anyone.”

“Whatever this is inside me, it’s getting stronger.” Rachel’s voice was flat. They hadn’t really talked about it that way, but everyone knew that it was true. It wasn’t about restraining it, because that didn’t seem like a plausible thing. They just had to figure out how to understand it before they could try and hopefully harness it. The other options weren’t options and it didn’t do anything to dwell on it.

They had to figure out how to control the controllable, whatever that was.

“We’ll figure it out. We can handle it.”

Rachel pulled back and away from Dick and settled back into her seat, eyes watching Kori and the now human Gar talking in the roadside ditch. Despite what had just happened, and that he was half naked and wrapped in a blanket in the middle of what might be Ohio but could just as easily be Kentucky at this point, he was smiling and laughing about something, trying to get Kori to break the deadpan face that she was locked in with. “I just wish I was normal.”

“Normal is overrated. None of us are normal.”

Rachel watched Dick carefully, how he sat and moved and held himself. He wondered if everything looked different through her eyes with whatever was inside her, and if so, if they always had and she just didn’t know any different. “You are. Or you could be.”

Dick shook her head and gave her a small smile that he hoped was encouraging and not a grimace. He used to smile a lot but over the years it had become a little bit harder. Those walls were starting to crack and it felt easier again. “Nah. That ship sailed a long time ago. Even if I burn the cape and leave all this? I still grew up in the circus and my best friend is an Amazon so it was never really in the cards. Normal is boring and all of us? We are anything but.”

Rachel looked away and again and nodded with a soft smile of her own. “Well, I don’t want to be boring.” She snapped her seatbelt into place, her own way of trying to show that she was done talking about it for now and would rather just keep going. “I’m alright. I promise. We can get going again.”

“Let me know if you’re not, okay? I’ll pull over and we can take a break.” Dick wrapped his arms around her again, this time it was quick and light, completely different from the restraining hold of before.

“I’m fine.”

“I meant for the car. I don’t know what that black stuff does to the transmission.”

There was a sharp pain as Rachel punched him in the shoulder. “You really are such a dick.”

“Language.” His eyes widened as soon as he said it. It was official. He really was a dad now.

#hug drabbles #dick grayson #rachel roth #koriand'r #garfield logan #titans #drabble lengths are more like guidelines anyway #this was my last hug drabble #thanks for all the prompts guys!#titans tv

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jungkookienoona · 5 years

Text

The Meme And His Tutor

Part 49: The Tutor’s birthday

Recommended Song: Stay up by Baekhyun

|Masterlist|

Summary:

The day has finally arrived and the tutor has something special planned. Operation D enters its finally stage.

Genre: Fluff, comedy, SMUT

Pairing: Jungkook X Reader (Y/N)

Warnings: Swearing, oral (f receiving), fingering, sexy times, Jungkook is a tad eager, riding, some dirty talk?, Jungkook can be a whiny baby, consent asked for throughout. PROTECTED SEX WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT PEOPLE.

Word Count: 2701

Length: 49/?

You worried around your kitchen as you prepared. Today was the day. It was your birthday. The day you planned to give Jungkook all of you. Miri was staying with Jaehi for the night under her insistence. Something about not having distractions around. There was only a couple of hours until Bangtan’s photoshoot was over, when Jungkook would be free to see you. So now was the best time to eat before nerves made your stomach uneasy. You knew Jungkook would’ve eaten at the photography studio. The doorbell rang as you were chopping up some carrots so you set down your knife and went to answer it.

A bunch of flowers greeted you. The delivery guy poked his head around the large bouquet, "Y/N?"

"Uh, yes that's me."

He handed you the flowers and wished you a happy birthday before leaving. Sitting down, you found a card attached to the bouquet by a ribbon.

"Alright, let's find out who you’re from,” You said turning the card over, “'To my lovely Noona. Happy birthday! I'm sorry I can't spend most of the day with you but my day ends at 8pm. I'll try to get to you asap so I can cook you dinner and stuff. From, your Kookie.'"

Well shit, his romantic home cooked dinner will probably have to wait until the next day. It wasn’t his fault though, he didn’t know your plans. A small smile graced your lips as you set the bouquet on the coffee table. You needed to finish cooking.

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One meal and shower later, you were digging through your wardrobe for the lingerie you bought with Jaehi. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest as you pulled out the sheer fabric. Nerves or anticipation you couldn’t tell. Time was counting down, the photoshoot was ending soon. Placing it on your bed you moved over to your chester draws, you rummaged through to find the accompanying panties.

Stripping down you changed into them, posing and twirling in front of your widow to give yourself a once over. Just two things left to do. Grabbing your phone you typed out a quick message to Jungkook.

‘I’m ready.’

Sent.

All you had to do was your hair… maybe put on a nice pair of heels. Just as you sat down in front of your vanity, your phone dinged with a message.

‘Ready as in ready ready?

‘Yeah.’

‘Fuck.’

‘That’s the plan Kookie.’

You giggled at your own response and set your phone down. Trust teasing him to be the thing that calmed your nerves.

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Your hair was in soft curls as you slid on a pair of heels that finished off your ensemble. The sound of the apartments passcode being punched in reached your ears causing you to hurry into the living room just as Jungkook shut the front door behind him.

You stood there stunned. His cherry red hair was part to show off his forehead, his clothing was far from casual, looking as if he had left the shoot without even changing. He wore a deep blue shirt, leather pants and a leather harness around his chest. He oozed sex appeal but one part of you lamented how fiddley the harness would be to remove.

Jungkook mirrored you, stood still as a statue whilst eyeing your form. You watched the path of his eyes as they travelled down your body, pausing at you cleavage momentarily before continuing down to your thighs. Where he stopped and drew in a breath. You bit your lip, trying to hold back a smirk.

“So that’s why you’ve been hiding from me in the bathroom while changing Noona? When did you get that tattoo?”

The tattoo in question was ‘oriental’ in design: cat in a kimono sheathing a katana while stood atop a koi fish, surrounded by lily pads in bloom. Your mother had paid for it as a farewell gift before a month before you left for Korea. It had to be done in sessions, one a week to have it completed in time.

“Before moving here.”

Jungkook closed the gap between you in a few long strides before dropping to his knees. His fingers tenderly traced over the lines.

“Munsindo noonacheoreom areumdawoyo. (The tattoo is as beautiful as Noona.)”

He placed a kiss on it, so feather light it was like the fluttering in you heart was caused by it sprouting wings to fly to him. The thought didn’t stick around for long. Jungkook used his position to hoist you over his shoulder as he stood, a squeal leaving your lips.

He crossed the threshold of your room, carefully setting you down on your bed. Your face was cupped by his hands as he looked into your eyes, “Are you sure about this Noona? I need to hear you say it.”

Your own hands reached for him, curling his locks around your fingers, “I’m sure Jungkook.”

The smile that bloomed across his face could’ve melted you, “Johke haedeurilkeyo. Yaksokhaeyo. (I’ll make it good for you. I promise.)”*

His lips were on yours without a second to spare, soft and gentle but you could tell he was holding back. Tugging on his hair, you tried to let him know it was okay but all he did was chuckle and shake his head.

“It’s your birthday Noona, so today this will be all about you. We can focus on me another time yeah?”

How did you get blessed with such a man? You decided to let him do as he pleased. With a nod of confirmation from you, he moved down to your neck. Immediately he attacked your weak point, nipping and sucking at it with a practiced technique that had you squirming beneath him. You hadn’t even realised he had led you down.

“Noona, can I… am I allowed to-” The way his breath ghosted over the sensitive skin had heat pooling between your legs.

“Please.”

It kind of amazed you how you knew what he was asking to do, but it’s not as if it took a mind reader. Jungkook’s nips lost their gentleness, now with the intent to mark you. Your legs wrapped around his waist, I particularly harsh bite causing you to jolt, hips meeting his and drawing a moan from the both of you. If there was something you had realised from your escapades with Jungkook, it was that his moans were as intoxicating as his singing. Unlike his singing, this was just for your ears.

Jungkook’s hands trailed up your thighs as his lips travelled south, stopping in the valley of your breasts. Sitting up slightly, he pulled down the straps of your baby doll to reveal you breasts to him.

“As much as I love how this looks on you, it’s getting in my way so I have no choice but see it go.”

His playful pout made you giggle. You helped him to remove the material from you leaving you in naught but your panties. Those giggles died instantly when he caught one of your nipples between his lips, tongue laving it. His hand gravitated towards the neglected breast, massaging it and pausing to tweak it. Keens and whines escaped your lips as heat continued to pool. You felt his free hand move to your hip, encouraging you to grind against him as his moved in tandem with you.

He freed your nipple to rest his head on your chest, sweat slicked hair feeling chill against your heated skin, “Fuck Noona, I’m sorry. I don’t think I can take my time with you like you wanted. Can I taste you? I’ve been fucking dying to Noona, please.”

“It’s… It’s okay baby. Do what you want with me.”

Jungkook groaned when the word baby left your lips, his hands already tugging at the last remaining piece of clothing on you.

You placed a hand on his chest, making him stop. His brows furrowed in concern.

“Aren’t you a tad over dressed?” You said coyly.

Jungkook was quick to start unbuckling the harness, you were almost sad to see it go. But that thought was swiftly replaced when he started unbuttoning his shirt to reveal more and more of his caramel skin to you. You were so entranced you barely noticed he had taken it off fully until he started working on removing his leather pants. Fuck they made his thighs look heavenly with how they clung to them like a second skin. Maybe one day you could convince him to wear those and the harness when fooling around…

Without hesitation Jungkook pushed down his pants revealing that he was going commando beneath.

“Do you ever wear underwear?”

“When my pants aren’t so tight. Do you have…?”

You pointed to your dresser. He had to claim over slightly and you relished in how his skin felt against yours. A little “aha” let you know he had found what he wanted. He sat back up, condom in hand and a victorious grin on his face.

“I thought you wanted to taste me baby. I thought you couldn’t wait.”

Jungkook tore open the foil.

“And I can’t but safety first. Don’t want to forget about it when I’m high on your pussy Noona.” He said with utter seriousness, rolling the rubber onto his cock.

You choked on air at his words. They sounded almost alien coming from him. Jungkook shifted above you so his upper body was situated between your legs, pulling them over his shoulders. With his hands on your hips, he pulled you towards his face, his breath fanning against you for but a brief moment before he was diving in.

You’ve only been eaten out a handful of times, none of which could compare to that very moment. No one had ever done it so enthusiastically. Had ever had you moaning like a wanton whore at an orgy. And Jungkook seemed equally affected as he groaned with each passing of his tongue between your folds, only stopping to focus on your clit. You couldn’t help you hands weaving into his hair, tugging him closer so you could grind against the flat surface of his tongue.

A prodding at your entrance had you looking down and you swore you could’ve come then and there at the sight that met you. He was looking up at you, watching your reactions and responding to them. His sweat laden bangs were held back from his face by your very own hands letting you see him clearly. And fuck were you weak for it, the look in his eyes was exactly like when he was performing. The passion and focus in them.

Staring into your eyes, he pushed two fingers into you. You tensed, not used to starting with two but it really did seem Jungkook was too riled up for his own good. But that didn’t mean he was utterly senseless. At your visible discomfort, he started sucking and kitten licking at your clit, making you shudder as pleasure surged upwards through you. When you had relaxed enough he started pumping his fingers inside you, crooking his fingers to find the spots that would have your toes curling.

“Jungkook. Fuck right there.”

Jungkook pulled away slightly, “There Noona? Do you think you can take another?”

“Please,” You whined, tugging at his hair.

Jungkook chuckled, going back to give your sensitive nub more attention as he eased a third finger in. You already felt so full but if the dildos you had been practicing with were anything to go by, you were going to feel even more so later. With just a bit more coaxing he had done the impossible. Jungkook made you cum with foreplay. The heat that had pooling in your stomach, twisting into a coil, finally released and flooded your body. You cried out as it travelled from its epicentre between your legs, to your toes and fingers before finally reaching your head leaving you fucked out and heady.

Jungkook sat back, your release on his lips and chin. Using his thumb he wiped up what remained only to suck it off with a moan.

“You taste so fucking good Noona. Good thing you’re a snack so I can eat you up every day.”

He shifted so his hips were flush against yours, his cock pressing insistently against your entrance. Your hand went to his shoulder, nudging him to lay back but he resisted.

“I said today is about you Noona. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“I know. I want to be on top.”

The dumbstruck look on Jungkook’s face was priceless and when you nudged his shoulder again he gave no resistance at all, falling to the side with all the grace of a pigeon in a strong wind. You straddled his hips but waited a moment before going any further.

“Are you okay with this baby?”

Jungkook blinked a couple of times before meeting your eyes, “Noona, I am more than okay with this. I just had to focus on not coming at the thought of you riding me.”

Nodding to yourself having got his consent, you lined up his cock with your cunt before pressing down onto his. Your breath caught in your throat at the sheer feel of him stretching you to your limits, even as you took your time. A stream of curses left Jungkook’s mouth, his hands clutching at the sheets. You both stayed like that for a moment, regaining composure.

“Noona, you’re so wet and tight. Fuck. Despite the fleshlight you gave me I don’t think I’ll last long.”

“I-it’s okay. I’ve al-already c-came.”

Jungkook gave a low groan in response, his head kicking back as his hips bucked at your words, “Shit, sorry Noona.”

Your hands fell to his chest to steady yourself, moaning as his movements made him brush against your sweet spot.

“Do that again Kookie. But this time call me by my name.”

Jungkook released the sheets, hands tightly grasping at your hips to hold you steady as he thrust up into you, “Oh fuck. Fuck Y/N. So fucking good around my cock. Shit this isn’t how I thought it’d go in my head.”

Not content with staying still, you rocked against him, meeting him thrust for thrust. Your body tipping forward as you rested your forehead against his own, breathy moans mixing with his grunts. The sound of those with skin against skin and you wetness were a sinful performance to your ears. One you knew you’d want to hear over and over for as long as you were able. For as long as Jungkook was your partner in this duet.

Jungkook captured your lips with your own. It was messy with heavy breathing and teeth occasionally knocking at harder thrusts. Which were becoming more erratic as Jung drew ever closer to his end. The familiar heat was starting to build in your stomach but you elected to ignore it, just this once.

“It’s okay baby, you can cum.”

As if hearing those words was what he needed, Jungkook tensed beneath you with a cry of your name as you continued to rock against him, milking his climax. His grip on you tightening was you signal to stop so you eased yourself off him. As he led there panting and in a fucked out daze you carefully removed the condom from him and took it over to your little bin. Sure you ached but clean up was necessary.

“Noona~ waso nal kkyeoanayo (Come and cuddle me).” Jungkook whine, patting beside him insistently.

You wondered if he was the whiney type after cumming. Smiling to yourself at the thought of a whiny baby-ish Jungkook, you crawled back into bed and into his arms.

“You tired Kookie?”

Jungkook shook his head, “Just need to catch my breath. Give me a couple of minutes and I’ll be ready for round two.”

Your eyes which were closing sprang wide open, “Round two?”

“I will feel you come round my dick before your birthday is over Y/N, I promise. Which reminds me. Happy Birthday Noona. I’m sorry I didn’t bring your present or the stuff for dinner. I kinda… forgot… after your texts.”

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A/N: Happy New Year everyone! It’s exactly the 4 year anniversary of me discovering Bangtan!

*I wrote this line just as Jungkook sang the first “take my hand now” in the Euphoria forever mix and it hit my heart in such a way. oof.

Tag list: @it-is-dana @joonsflowers @welcome-to-my-broken-sanctuary @diznizzle4shizzle

This work of fiction is copyright © JungkookieNoona and protected under UK and international law. All rights reserved. Any unauthorised broadcasting, copying or reposting will constitute an infringement of copyright.

#networkbangtan #armiesnet #bangtanarmynet #jungkook #tmaht #jeon jungkook #BTS jungkook #jeongguk #jeon jeongguk #jungkook scenario #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #bangtan #bangtan scenario #boop

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ancientwastedlores · 4 years

Text

The Support System (Ch: 5)

SUMMARY: The Avengers have managed to collect all the infinity stones across the universe, and are currently keeping them in far corners of the world, only for research and to see if they can improve the planet and its people. Reader is a researcher with Tony Stark and Bruce Banner, as well as a field agent. Loki is currently serving time for his actions in New York City in 2012.

A/N: Find this chapter on AO3 here. Feedback and fic requests totally welcome.

AO3: The Support System Tumblr: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

Chapter: 5/? Warnings: Rough fighting. Audience: general.

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CHAPTER 5:

Once in the training room, he looks at the wall with all the weapons. You naturally gravitate towards the katanas, which he spots you pick up.

‘Is that…?’ ‘Yes!’ you show him the handles. ‘Odin stealing poetry from the Jotuns’. ‘How do you know!?’ ‘I grew up reading those stories’.

His eyes widen, undoubtedly the possibility of you knowing stories about him as well running through his mind. You figure it out, but say nothing.

‘The katanas are your favourite?' he asks. ‘I wouldn’t say that, but I do find myself getting really good with these lately. I’ve considered taking these on the mission’.

Loki turns away to inspect the other weapons on the wall. You strap the harness on and place the katanas in. ‘Whenever you’re ready’.

‘Oh, I’m ready’ he walks to the middle of the room. ‘You don’t have any weapons’. ‘I don’t need any’ he gives you a devilish grin. ‘No magic’ you warn. ‘We didn’t agree on that. Come on’. ‘No!’ ‘Are we scared?’

You raise an eyebrow. You will not be challenged. You take your place at the centre as well. ‘Don’t be offended if I stab you’

‘It wouldn’t make a difference’.

With flourish, you remove the katanas from behind you. You charge at him then jump, and you expect him to block you. He merely disappears and you fall flat on your face. You get up and look behind you, where he stands, grinning again.

Oh, it’s going to be like that, is it.

You charge at him again, jump again, and he disappears. You expect it and promptly take one of your katanas and stab the air behind you. It hits its mark. You turn to see the katana pierce his abdomen. You look at his face, but he’s still grinning. You feel a strong pair of hands grab your neck from behind and choke you and the Loki next to you disappears. You realise it’s an illusion again. You roll your eyes, drop your katanas, and break from Loki’s grip by flipping him over your body so he’s now on the floor. You smirk at him and go to pick up the katanas you dropped, except another pair of hands circle your stomach and pull you back, then throw you against the wall.

You fall, stunned. You didn’t expect him to be so rough on you. Oh well. You know he’s just going to keep using illusions, but at least it will tire you out, something no agent or Nat has managed to do.

You continue fighting. At some point you stopped using the katanas and resorted to a gun after being frustrated. You manage to corner him and hold him at gun point. A clone comes up behind you to grab the gun, but you expect it now and just throw an elbow behind you, giving the clone a fake bloody nose. You smile at Loki.

‘Oh, there’s more back there’. ‘I’ve fought of three bad guys while still holding onto a baby’ you brag.

He looks amused at that, ‘I still suggest you turn around’.

You roll your eyes and turn around, expecting something ridiculous like a whole room of Lokis. You’re greeted by a frost giant.

‘What the…’ ‘Meet Angr’ he says.

The Frost Giant, Angr, whose height is about the height of the room, moves like a cat. He ducks and grabs your leg, pulls you to the ground and disarms you.

‘You play dirty’ you accuse Loki. ‘You asked me to fight’ he says, and you can hear the arrogance in his voice.

You're actually out of breath and quite tired, also something no agent has managed to do. You stand up and stare down Angr, which is not an easy feat since he towers over you.

‘Size doesn’t matter’ you mutter to yourself.

Behind you, Loki chuckles.

You’re quick too. Your gloves, provided by the kind Princess of Wakanda, are made of Vibranium and have claws. You use these to claw into Angr’s ice skin and climb up; you get to his head and mount it, his neck between your legs, and you position the claws at his neck.

‘Only an illusion, right?’ you ask. ‘Of course’ Loki says.

You take a deep breath, and as a final gesture, you reach forward to grab Angr’s neck, then pull, expecting blood to go everywhere. But Loki has had enough of indulging you, and just makes the giant disappear, causing you to fall. You somersault in the air and manage to safely land on your feet.

You laugh and lie down on the floor to catch your breath. Loki keeps standing in his corner, now dead silent.

‘Oh god, THAT was a workout’ you announce. ‘That was amazing, why haven’t I been training with you all this time?’ you jump on your feet to pick up the weapons you dropped.

He keeps silent. You pick up the knives, guns, katanas and a few other things you grabbed from the walls to fight. You’ve never felt the need to resort to all of them. You place them back on the wall neatly, while seeing your reflection in the clean metal. You’re actually bruised.

You don’t mind, but hope it clears up before you have to go.

You’re still a bit startled by how rough Loki played, though. You’ve had serious sparring sessions with Natasha and Maria Hill, who both at one point, lightly stabbed you and then told you to walk it off. Even new recruits who didn’t know how to control their strength caused you an injury or too without meaning to, which you recovered from. But with Loki, it felt like he knew exactly what he was doing, and didn’t want to stop.

It somehow it didn’t feel like a good natured fight, now that you think about it.

You decide not to bring it up immediately, though. It’s been about two hours, and you’re drenched in sweat. But you do want to bring it up when you’re watching Doctor Who later in the night.

After sitting locked up in your room for the next few hours, nursing your wounds on your face, arms, and back, showering, and reading a few research papers, you leave your room for dinner.

‘JESUS kid, what happened to you?’ Tony exclaims, as you walk into the dining room. ‘Well, I finally met my match’ you laugh, pointing at Loki. ‘I haven’t bruised like that since my first month training with Natasha’.

Tony glares at Loki, obviously interpreting you incorrectly.

‘No, I asked him to fight me. It’s not his fault!' you jump to his defense. Well, it is a little bit, but you decide to keep that to yourself and confront him later. ‘Uhuh’ Tony says, not totally convinced. ‘Sure. Sit down, we got your favourite’.

You take your seat across from Loki’s, who is avoiding looking at you and staring only at his plate. Everyone wants to ask about your sparring session with Loki, more out of concern than anything else.

You assure them it was fun, and the bruises don’t hurt that much, and you’ll be fine within the week.

‘We don’t have to have our session tomorrow’ Natasha says. ‘No, I’m good, really’. ‘Kid, you’re going to get yourself killed’ Tony warns. ‘I’m fine, reall…’ ‘You’re taking an off tomorrow. That’s an order’ his tone is final.

You know not to argue with that.

Conversation continues as usual. You keep trying to make eye contact with Loki, who only stares at his plate. You let it go and let your mind wander to the techniques you used to fight Loki’s illusions, trying to store them in memory.

It wasn’t just you who had a rough day. Tony and Bruce got tired of not getting anywhere with the Reality Gem, and moved to a new project for the time being. Bruce didn’t want to share yet what he was up to, but Tony threw himself into upgrading weapons for the extraction mission. Nat spent the day inspecting the S.H.I.E.L.D agents chaperoning them for the mission along with Hill. Sam Wilson was also asked to join, so he spent the day trying out the upgraded weapons for Tony in his lab.

Everyone agreed they wanted a drink, but you decide to just go to bed, since you’re tired. You do, however, take a few beers to your room. Bruce asks you to sit with them, but you really want to just sit in bed and watch TV and drink them. You bid good night to everyone and head to your room.

Loki’s in there with the season 5 DVD in his hand, sitting on a chair. You smile at him and show him the beers you got. ‘Dranks’.

He laughs.

You open a can and set the rest of the cans down on the floor. ‘So now that I have you alone’ you say. ‘What was that fighting all about?' ‘You asked me to’. ‘No, I know, but you went AT it. Like you were actually trying to hurt me’. ‘You’re being dramatic’ Loki says, avoiding your eyes as he gets up to go the DVD player. You grab his arm and make him turn to face you. ‘No, actually, I’m pretty sure I’m not. I’ve had intense sessions, and then there was whatever the hell you were doing. I’m asking nicely. Don’t make me ask again’.

His lips purse, and he studies you. There is no anger in your eyes. It does terrify him a little that you’re keeping calm.

‘Okay, fine, I don’t want you to go’ he confesses. ‘So you were trying to what, give me a fracture?’ ‘I just wanted to show you how dangerous it can be out there so you would change your mind about leaving’. ‘What!’ you start to laugh loudly. ‘You actually thought that would happen?’ ‘I don’t know. I thought it was worth a shot’ he furrows his brows. ‘You don’t have to laugh’. ‘Loki, you could literally kill me and I’d still get up and go’. ‘WHY?’ ‘Because I want to’ you say firmly. ‘You can’t stop me. If it troubles you, I won’t ask you to fight with me again. But don’t try and stop me’.

You let go of his arm, and it drops to his side, his shoulders slumping. He looks at you sadly.

‘Loki... what is it?’ you ask. ‘I’ve only just begun to feel like I belong, I can’t have you leave and maybe not come back’. ‘I haven’t even left, and you’ve gone and assumed me dead?’ this sounds so much like your mother, who had already assumed the worst case scenario before you even sent in your application to S.H.I.E.L.D.

‘It’s purely selfish’ he admits, ‘but I don’t want you to go. Please…’ he grabs your shoulders, ‘…reconsider’. ‘Loki, Tony wants me to go. But you have nothing to worry about. I’ll be fine’. ‘I know you will be’ he lets go of you. ‘I hate to admit it, but you did a great job today, which is why I stopped’.

You inwardly congratulate yourself for impressing the God of Mischief, but a smile does escape you. He sees it.

‘Don’t get used to the compliments’ he chuckles. ‘I’ll put on the DVD. You can get into bed’.

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