#ring with hidden compartment for knife

[zazter-den]

Sweet Tooth

Minors Do Not Interact

Common Scents Series: Cat Bath, Sweet Tooth.

Synopsis- Izuku likes the freedom of being a very private business owner when he has dual lives to run. After all it allows him to "hire" himself as a new worker to get close to Barista!Reader- Wait, why do you smell burnt?

Warnings- Yandere, Dubcon, Stalking, Drugging, Overstim, Size Diff, Mindbreak.

Tags-Aged up(obviously), Hybrid AU, Rabbit!Izuku, Dom!Izuku, Afab!reader, Sub!Reader. Kitchen sex, Scentmarking, Creampie, Excessive seed, Undercover boss, Oral!receiving.

Word Count- 8.1K, because apparently I missed the coziness of Autumn

Izuku sat in the manager's office, the soft glow of the moon filtered through the skylight, casting a gentle radiance upon his features. Short, curly forest green hair, slightly disheveled from his earlier preparations, framed his face in an endearing manner as he sat back in the cushy chair. His emerald green eyes, filled with anticipation, seemed to glimmer and reflect the moonlight, adding a glow to his gaze.

Sitting up, he carefully removed his silver rings with practiced ease, each etched with swirling thorned vines and placed them into a velvet-lined box before making his way to the safe hidden in the wooden paneling of the small room.

Next, Izuku's attention turned to his hunting knife, a weapon as beautiful as it is deadly. He gripped the handle, his hand steady and sure, and twirled it effortlessly in the air. The moonlight danced along the metal, illuminating the intricate green thorn designs that ran down the blade. With a measured flick of his wrist, Izuku sheathed the blade, and it disappeared into the hidden safe. The compartment closed with a soft click, concealed behind an intricately designed wooden panel once again. Sealing away his secrets until they are needed once more.

Leaving the manager's office behind, Izuku made his way through the empty cafe, his steps light and silent as he headed toward the kitchen to prepare for the day ahead. The 'Lunar Rabbit' cafe's pristine jade green walls, soft lighting, and delicate hanging glass terrariums created a serene atmosphere, inviting its inhabitants to relax and escape the chaos of the outside world. Izuku being no exception.

In the quiet solitude of the kitchen, the signature evergreen scent of the café mingled with the aroma of matcha and lime. Izuku's tall figure gracefully moved around the kitchen, his large rabbit ears twitching with every soft sound. Like second nature, he set up the kitchen before taking the bright green citrus butter out of the fridge.

When it came to rabbit hybrids, most people weren't used to seeing Flemish Giants. Clad in a light green t-shirt, tightly hugging his well-defined muscles, Izuku's towering physique was more reminiscent of a predator hybrid, his strength barely hidden beneath a veneer of dorky charm and wit.

With precise movements, Izuku began preparing the perfectly striped, two-toned croissants that the 'Lunar Rabbit' cafe is known for. He measured the ingredients meticulously, his attention to detail reflected in every step. There is a comfort and tranquility in the act of creating, a stress reliever that he cherished amidst his dual lives.

The rhythmic sound of his palm hitting the dough, gently flattening it, filled the dark kitchen. Izuku's movements are methodical and precise, almost hypnotizing, as he continued to work on the matcha-lime croissant dough. His thoughts drifted to his upcoming shift with you, and he couldn't help but feel a wave of excitement wash over him.

Izuku was under your spell from your very first shift at one of his cafes. He had watched you on the security cameras for months, studying every little detail. Your moves, your smile, the way you interacted with customers. Izuku was drawn to you like a moth to flame, captivated by charm and spirit.

Izuku imagined you standing there, your lovely form illuminated by the soft café lights, under the delicate swaying terrarium spheres. He could already see himself making your favorite flavored latte, as he's seen you make it countless times on the security feed. How many times did he tweak that syrup to get it just to your liking? The thought of serving you a cup he made himself brought a smile to his face, his green eyes glowing with anticipation.

Lost in his fantasies, Izuku accidentally spilled some flour onto his t-shirt. Chuckling softly to himself, he brushed off the white powder and ran his fingers between his ears and through his short curly forest green hair, basking in the thrill of the upcoming shift.

He focused his attention on the task at hand, skillfully wrapping the mix in plastic wrap and placing it in the fridge to rest until tomorrow. Drumming a brawny calloused hand against the fridge door, he grabbed a sheet of pre-chilled blueberry-lemon dough before closing the door with his heel.

At the kitchen island counter, Izuku's hands worked the dough skillfully, his fingers deftly shaping it into perfect croissants. The dough was soft and pliable, and Izuku liked the feel of the texture against his fingertips. It was smooth and velvety, the aroma of smashed berries and lemon rind wafted through the air as he worked. Izuku appreciated scents that complimented his own. Citrus, teas, your jasmine-like signature.

Shaping the pastry mix, his mind briefly wandered to thoughts of what it would be like to touch you, to feel your curves beneath his hands. Lost again in daydreams, Izuku envisioned the feel of your silky skin against his callouses and scars, his mind conjuring images of your usual flowery fragrance intertwining with his yuzu and evergreen scent. The thought of your lips, soft and inviting, added to his desires, and his thoughts wandered to the taste of you, the way your lips would feel against his own.

Izuku's mind is completely consumed by the thought, and he could feel the heat pooling rapidly within him. He desperately wanted to trace the contours of your body, his fingertips exploring every inch, as his desire continued to build. His breath grew heavy. With a raspy whimper escaping his lips, Izuku momentarily lost himself in his fantasies, feeling bead of pre-cum line the tip of his straining erection. The excitement building within him became overpowering, overwhelming his senses.

As his arousal grew, Izuku's scent turned musky, blending with his natural citrus evergreen aroma. Izuku's eager slit continued to weep the viscous fluid, the sticky patch of his boxers trapped against the thick head of his dick. As he continued his task, every so often the precum slick fabric would slide forcefully against his tip, eliciting another deep groan from his lips. His need for you at this point was overwhelming, almost unbearable, and his foot tapped on the floor in rabbit-like frustrated anticipation.

It was a struggle for Izuku to maintain focused on his work, his mind overloaded with longing and the intense desire to fulfill every single one of his fantasies with you. He took a moment to compose himself, releasing a pent-up growl of frustration under his breath. He couldn't afford to lose his shit on day one and scare you off, he wasn't some amateur.

Knowing he must regain control, Izuku attempted to once again throw himself into getting the shop ready for the morning rush. With a reluctant sigh, Izuku carefully took out the raspberry two-toned croissants that he had prepped the day before, placing them on the kitchen island counter to be baked for today's morning rush.

Izuku looked at the clock hanging on the wall, he just needed to be patient.

⊰⋆∘☽༓☾∘⋆⊱⊰⋆∘☽༓☾∘⋆⊱⊰⋆∘☽༓☾∘⋆⊱⊰⋆∘☽༓☾∘⋆⊱⊰⋆∘☽༓☾∘⋆⊱⊰⋆∘☽༓☾∘⋆⊱

When you first stirred from slumber, your first instinct was to dive back under the blankets in the pre-dawn darkness. Slowly peeling back the covers of your cozy bed, the moon cast a dim glow through the window, barely highlighting your room.

As you slid your feet out from under the quilts and sat up in the chilly room, your sleep blurred gaze fell on the neatly arranged uniform laid out on the dresser. The tan and jade green dress holds an air of cute professionalism and elegance, perfectly suited for your role at one of the 'Lunar Rabbit' cafes.

As you took off your pajamas, your gaze wanders downward, landing upon the growing bruises and scratches that marred your sore hips. You shook your head softly, a mix of emotions flooding rational thoughts. Last night with Katsuki, the tiger you shared your apartment with, had been...intense to say the least, at times his territorial nature could cross bounds. It seemed his bestial inclinations towards you often manifested in these marks and an aching pussy full of the feral feline's load. It had been necessary to join him in the bath, to wash away any traces of other scents but his own, before he was satisfied last night.

Tossing your head in frustrated resignation, you took a deep breath, attempting to push the memory of those bruises aside. You adjusted your uniform in the mirror, determination to face the day with your usual brand of professionalism. With each careful movement, you purposefully shed the weight of hectic apartment life, transforming into the dedicated and fun-loving barista that your colleagues and patrons know you to be.

The early morning air carried an invigorating crispness as you stepped out of your apartment, the pitch darkness of the night slowly yielding to a beautiful, dark purple sky. The stars twinkled above, casting a gentle luminescence upon the world below. The beauty of the early morning took your breath away.

Walking through the quiet streets, you took in the sights of the autumn morning. Vibrant hues of orange and red adorned the foliage, casting a mystical fall atmosphere all around. The gentle crunching of leaves under your feet became a soothing background melody, heightening your anticipation for the day to come. It's a picturesque scene that brings a smile to your face as you take in the beauty around you.

The short walk to the 'Lunar Rabbit' café is refreshing, the cool breeze gently caresses your skin, and you can't help but lift your face towards the sky, embracing the tranquility of the morning. The scent of dew-kissed grass and the earthy fragrance of autumn fills the air, creating a calming atmosphere.

Unlocking the door, you entered the cozy café intricately designed with a charming lunar forest theme. Most of the walls were adorned in a relaxing jade green color, with glistening glass sphere terrariums hanging gracefully from the ceiling. Creating a sense of tranquility whenever the light caught the floating gardens just right.

But it's the back wall mural that always draws the attention of customers—a breathtaking depiction of ethereal rabbits, crafted from swirling shadows, engaged in a graceful dance beneath a moonlit sky adorned with countless stars.

The careful brush strokes bring the scene to life, immersing you in a mysterious and whimsical world. The rabbits are beautifully painted, their whirling silhouettes seem to come alive under the gentle glow of dawn and fairy lights, creating an otherworldly ambiance. It's a mesmerizing sight in the early morning, one that never failed to captivate you in the dark hours.

You stepped into the dim kitchen, a sense of familiarity washing over. The soft glow of the moon outside cast a gentle illumination, highlighting the edges of the counter tops and appliances. You began gathering the necessary ingredients to create the delectable quiches that will soon grace the cafe's display case.

The movement is sudden. You only caught the shifting of shadows on the opposite side of the kitchen out of the corner of your eye. Your heart thumped rapidly against your chest as your attention was drawn to the mysterious figure standing upright near the ovens, rising to full height in a fluid motion. The towering silhouette seemed to materialize out of nowhere from the depths of the dark kitchen. For a split second, you could swear you saw his eyes glimmer in the shadows, as if they were momentarily aglow with a vivid emerald light.

The initial shock sends a jolt of adrenaline coursing through your previously fatigued body. Startled by the unexpected sight, your muscles tensed, ready to defend yourself if necessary. Eyes narrowed, trying to make sense of the hulking man's presence, you ran through your options.

Then Izuku shifted forward, the illumination from the skylight instantly brightening his features. The ethereal glow revealed his forest green ears nestled in curly hair, and vivid green eyes, capturing the essence of mischief and charm that so often accompanies his presence. A genial grin tugged at the corners of his lips, “Mornin'!” he chirped, closing the oven behind him, the raspberry croissants settled on the racks. His soft rabbit ears entirely too perky for this pre-dawn hour.

Recognition immediately dawned on you, and a mix of relief and frenzied amusement flooded your features. A little laugh escaped your lips, laced with a touch of underlying nervousness, as your eyes met Izuku's. "Midoriya! Damn, you scared me." you exclaimed, the words tumbling out with a hint of manic energy. Izuku's grin widened as you stammered, the sound of his name on your lips seemingly delighting him. Your laughter lingered in the air, relief palpable. All you could do is laugh off the initial fright, glad to see a familiar face in the dimly lit tranquility of the kitchen.

Wait.

Your brow furrowed as confusion washed over. The gears in your exhaustion-addled mind began to turn, piecing together the inconsistency of Izuku's presence in the closed cafe at such an early hour. As a new employee, Izuku shouldn't have the keys to the establishment. "How did you get in?" You blurted out, voice equal parts curiosity and suspicion. You looked at him, searching for an explanation.

Attempting to quell any rising doubts, Izuku quickly weaved a web of deception, words slipping off his silver tongue with practiced ease. His response was laced with an air of authority, as if the decision had been handed down by corporate in a moment of desperation. "Ms.Usagiyama gave me a key," he stated, his voice confident and unwavering. "They needed someone to fill in as an overnight baker, and it seems I was their best option."

When was the last time he had called her anything but Mirko?

Your surprise was blatantly displayed across your face as you registered the information. You didn't expect management, especially Rumi, to be handing out keys so freely and enlist new employees for overnight baking duties. Then again... given the rather unexpected departure of one of the bakers, you supposed the situation must be dire enough to warrant such desperate measures given the shop's popularity.

“...It'll be nice to have help in the mornings” With a shrug, you dismissed your initial doubts, content to accept Izuku's explanation. After all, you're just a team lead, not really the position to harp on the decisions made by upper management when you'll only get a headache for your trouble. As the manager of your location, Rumi can deal with that nonsense. The fact that you're just honestly grateful for the extra hands during the morning rush seems to override any lingering uncertainties.

You stretched your arms out wide, movements fluid and graceful, as a yawn escaped your lips. Fatigue lingered beneath the surface, evident in the slight droop of your eyelids and the darkened circles barely visible beneath your eyes. A testament to your restless night of sleep, body aching from the intensity of the “bath” you shared with Katsuki.

You offered Izuku a small, tired smile as you spoke, voice carrying a soft, lingering weariness. "I'm going to get the quiches ready in the other oven," you said with sleepy determination.

A moment later, as you set about your task, Izuku's acute senses detected a faint scent of burning sugar, tickling the edges of his nostrils. His eyes immediately darted towards the ovens, but upon closer inspection, he realized that the raspberry croissants had only just begun baking, their doughy forms barely touched by the heat. He dismissed the fleeting scent, assuring himself that it must have been a mere figment of his imagination.

Silently observing you moved past him, Izuku's gaze lingered on the circles under your eyes, a telltale sign of exhaustion and a restless sleep. Concern flickered in his emerald gaze, a twinge of protectiveness already tugging at his chest. He silently resolved to ensure that in time you understood that he was there for your well-being, even if you remained blissfully unaware of his true intentions.

Taking it upon himself to ease your tiredness, Izuku moved with a flurry of efficiency at the tea counter. His fingers gracefully danced across the array of tea leaves, their aroma filling the air, selecting his own special blend to help ease your weary spirit. His movements were precise and purposeful, a silent gesture of care for the woman who stood just a few feet away. You vaguely heard the clink of one of the kettles, as he prepared a cup colored with your favorite hue.

You carefully closed the door of the oven, the final quiche now tucked away to bake to golden perfection. You wiped your hands on your apron, turning around just as Izuku walked over, cradling a cup of tea in his large hands. Leaning against the kitchen island, your tired eyes blinked back the haze of exhaustion, momentarily jolted back to alertness as Izuku approached.

“This the seasonal energy tea blend?” Your gaze drifted down to the cup, its colorful pattern a perfect match to your favorite shade. You paused for a moment, a flicker of surprise crossing your features, but quickly brushed off the coincidence. After all, how could the new guy know such a personal detail? Thanking Izuku with a sweet smile, you accepted the cup and immediately felt the relaxing warmth it radiated.

The steam rose in ethereal tendrils, almost imperceptible in the dim light that filtered through the skylight overhead. Your eyes followed the wisps up towards the still dark pink sunrise through the window, their graceful dance capturing your attention briefly before you brought the cup to your lips.

With each passing second, Izuku's senses were assailed by that same faint smell that evoked a sense of ...smoke? His brows furrowed ever so slightly, his eyes narrowing in confusion. It lingered in the air, a faint odor that didn't align with the barely warm food in the oven. Izuku couldn't have known it was due to Katsuki, your territorial roommate, his pheromones carrying a note of smoldering embers. The scent itself evoked a strong dislike within Izuku, as his attention to detail in the pastry-making artistry made even the slightest indication of burning a source of disdain. Izuku swept over the kitchen, muttering to himself, trying to locate the source of the offensive smell.

As your finished the last sip of the steaming tea, a wave of warmth washed over you, permeating your body from the inside out. The autumn morning chill retreated, replaced by a comforting sensation that wrapped around you like a cozy blanket. The embrace of the herbal infusion wove its soothing spell, making you feel pleasantly drowsy in the brisk kitchen.

"I'm thinking this new morning tea is a miss" you muttered as you glared half-heartedly at the leaf dregs of the delicious brew. The aching fatigue that had clung to you began to dissipate, replaced by a gentle drowsiness that weighed down your eyelids. A yawn escaped your lips, body responding to the tea's intended purpose. Izuku stepped close, closer than necessary, as he reached out to take the empty tea cup from your hand.

You held out the cup, your hand hovering in the air as Izuku moved closer. But it's in that moment, as Izuku inhaled the lingering scent, nose giving a small twitch, that his gaze narrowed with a sudden intensity. Your drowsy mind failed to register the glare of his emerald eyes, an indication of something more than casual curiosity.

"Why...do you smell like you fell in a damn bonfire?" Izuku's words carried a sharpness, a demand rather than mere inquiry. They sliced through the air, hanging there with a weight that is impossible to ignore. His voice had cut through the air with an uncharacteristic edge, void of the easygoing nature she had come to associate with the coworker facade he portrayed.

Your heart skipped a beat, embarrassment flooding your features as Izuku's question settled in. You were stunned for a moment, the truth of the situation hanging heavily on your heart. Of course, you realized, Izuku's hybrid senses would pick up the scent left behind by Katsuki last night. How could you forget?

Scratches, cum, and pheromones laid on you the night before when Katsuki sensed Izuku's touch from when he thanked you during training. His possessiveness in the bath had been clear, his words a promise of violence should Izuku dare to lay a hand on you again.

A knot formed in the pit of your stomach as embarrassment filled your voice, intertwining with a shard of defiance. "I...uh...had a bit of a disagreement with my room mate last night," you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "But it's nothing to worry about, really."

Your admission threatened to tip the scales of the delicate equilibrium. Whether or not you were fully aware, the territorial boundaries have already been drawn between the territorial tiger and the love-mad hare. The situation a powder keg waiting to ignite, and Izuku the bastard he is, was going to make sure it blew up in the face of this “room mate” of yours.

Izuku's large hands swiftly found their place on your hips, his touch firm yet careful. In one fluid motion, he effortlessly lifted you clean off your feet and placed you onto the island counter. The contrast in your heights is stark, you find yourself still having to tilt your chin to look up in shock at Izuku. His long ears twitched with barely restrained irritation.

As Izuku's nose scrunched involuntarily, a mix of emotions surged within him. The scent of Katsuki, with its notes of cayenne, brown caramel, and smoldering embers, emanated from you like a provocative challenge even without a claim on your neck. To Izuku, it reeked like burnt sugar, an acrid aroma that didn't deserve a place within the confines of his shops.

His possessive instincts kicked into overdrive, an unwavering determination surging through his veins. He leaned down, his breath warm against the soft skin of your neck, his voice dropping to a low, firm tone. "You know," he began, his voice carrying a velvety cadence. "we can't have you smelling like that. It doesn't suit you, and it definitely doesn't suit this cafe."

“After all, who wants to eat in a smoky bakery?” Izuku finished as he knelt with calculated grace, his strong, muscular frame shifting closer to your exposed thighs. As he positioned himself between your parted legs, Izuku's eyes lock onto yours. In the short time you've known him, Izuku's eyes have never seemed this intense, brimming with an unwavering determination to claim you as his, to erase any trace of Katsuki's scent and replace it with his own. Your breath hitched softly, eyes widening at the audacity of Izuku's actions. Looking down at the fierce Flemish Giant between your thighs, you weren't sure you really wanted him to stop, consequences be damned.

Leaning back against the cold counter top, you let out a soft gasp as Izuku's lips met the inside of your knee. The contrast between the cool stone and the warmth of his mouth adds to the growing pleasure that courses through your body.

As Izuku's lips continued their path up your thigh, he deftly moved your cute underwear down your trembling legs. a shiver ran down your spine as the cold morning air kissed your exposed folds. The delicate material glided lower, clinging momentarily to your thighs before slipping over your uniform shoes.

Izuku's emerald eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he took a moment to appreciate the shade of green of the fabric. You're already wearing his color, he couldn't have planned it better himself. With a small grin against your soft skin, he quickly tucked your panties into his pocket, claiming another piece of you for himself while he distracted you with kisses and nips along your thigh.

Izuku's chuckle had a dark edge to it, tinged with an unmistakable sense of triumph as Katsuki's scent gradually began to dissipate. Your slick hole starting to carry the familiar fragrance of your usual jasmine, proof of Izuku's determined assertion of dominance over any traces of his new rival's presence.

With a deliberate and confident movement, Izuku pushed the bottom of your thighs up, hooking your ankles over his broad shoulders and positioning himself between your legs. His biceps barely flexed as his large tan hands gently scooted your hips closer to the edge of the counter, granting him better access to your tantalizingly wet pussy. The shadowy figures of your bodies blended together in the dark kitchen, the only source of light being the faint glow of the dark pink sunrise streaming through the skylight above. The faint rays of the sunrise dance across Izuku's face, highlighting his handsome features and the determination in his emerald green eyes.

Izuku's lips found their way to your tender slit, his tongue gently flicking and teasing your hooded pearl. The expert motions and the expert blend of pleasure and pressure elicited from his mouth heightened the sensations coursing through your body, intensifying your pleasure with each passing moment. Your taste was intoxicating to him, driving his desire further, as if he can't get enough.

Then again, he always did have a sweet tooth.

As his tongue hungrily slipped inside your aching cunt, suddenly the weight of Izuku's actions broke through the sleepy haze. Your mind flashed back to the conversation you had with Katsuki the night before, a warning that now echoed in your head. The realization hit you like a ton of bricks, "My room mate is gonna be pissed.” You groaned into your hands. The memory of Katsuki's threat looms in the back of your mind, a promise of violence should Izuku dare to lay a hand on you again.

Izuku lifted his gaze, a mischievous grin spreading across slick lips, as he locked eyes with you. His rabbit ears moved, playfully expressing his amusement. "Oh? And what is your room mate gonna do?" he retorted, a playful challenge in his voice. Without a hint of hesitation, he dives back down, his lips and tongue resuming their intoxicating dance against your sensitive folds and clit . He seemed completely unfazed by the threat, his confidence unyielding, a trait born of his secret life.

Even though the haze of pleasure, you hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether you should reveal the full extent of Katsuki's threat. Reluctantly, you gave in, letting the words slip out before your pleasure-addled brain could catch up. "He said he was gonna 'put you in the ground'," you admitted, lust thick voice tinged with a hint of unease.

Izuku's grip on your hips tightened, his possessive desire flaring again within him. The threat of violence from Katsuki barely registers as a deterrent. With a sinister glimmer in his eyes, Izuku responded, his voice laced with barely-contained excitement. "Is that so?" he murmured darkly, relishing the challenge "Let him try, I don't see a claim on your pretty neck." Without wasting another moment, Izuku went back to work, his mouth and tongue working diligently to replace any remnant of Katsuki's presence.

Feeling a sudden surge of mixed emotions—fear, excitement, desire—your hands had a mind of their own as they reached down lightly grazing over the soft, velvety texture of Izuku's rabbit ears. They quivered beneath your touch, responding to your exploration with an almost eager sensitivity.

As your fingers tangled in his forest green locks, you felt the warmth of Izuku's growl vibrating against your sensitive pussy, an intimate sound that resonated deep within you. The way his growl reverberated against your heated core sent shivers down your spine, making your swollen clit ache with need.

Izuku's mouth continued its relentless assault on your dripping cunt, his agile tongue expertly explored every hidden crevice, every secret fold, as if he was committing your every contour to memory. Each breathless moan that escaped your lips fueled Izuku's frenzy further.

For a moment, the tension in the air feels electric, a heightened awareness of the forbidden nature of your encounter. Despite the threat hanging over Izuku's head, he had explosive pleasure coursing through your body, casting an intoxicating spell over both of you. It's a dangerous game you've walked into, driven by the irresistible magnetism that seems to resonate between you and the hybrids in your life. The world around you seemed to fade away, the though of any brewing storm quickly silenced by the chorus of your erratic breaths and the wet sounds of Izuku's devouring lips.

With each passing moment, Izuku's own arousal became more apparent, his throbbing erection pressing insistently against the fabric of his pants, boxers already growing slippery with precum. The sheer desire in his eyes lit up the dim space, reflecting the hunger growing inside, as his tongue continued its wicked exploration.

As the sensations kept building, Izuku's nibbles along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs grew insistent, his teeth grazing your tender folds with just the right amount of pressure to send waves of tingling pleasure coursing through your veins. Each nip sends surges of electricity shooting up your spine, heightening your already stimulated state.

With a final, gentle nip, Izuku's attention returned to your swollen clit, his talented mouth engulfing it entirely, his tongue milking the pleasure from your body with a hunger born of his obsessive adoration.

The cold surface of the kitchen counter beneath you contrasted sharply with the scorching heat that consumed your being. It further intensified the sensations, making your body arch uncontrollably, craving more of Izuku's skilled tongue and the delicious friction against your dripping slit. As Izuku continued his tantalizing assault, a whirlwind of pleasure tore through you. Every touch, every lick, is electrifying, driving you to the edge of sanity and euphoria.

Your body responded instinctively to Izuku's ministrations, muscles tightening, drawing you closer to the precipice of your first orgasm. The familiar coil of ecstasy grew within, winding tighter with each flick of his tongue and gentle suction against your throbbing clit.

And then it happened—your climax hit you with an intensity that knocked the air out of your lungs. It crashed over you like a tidal wave, shattering any composure you still had and leaving you breathless and trembling. Your body quaked, as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you, drowning out rational thought.

As the echoes of your orgasm still shook you, Izuku didn't let up. His mouth continued to work its magic, prolonging the throes of your pleasure, drawing out every last drop of intoxication from your trembling body. The sensations are almost too much to bear, your mind spiraling in a haze of ecstasy as he licked you dry.

“Do I still reek?” Voice trembling, as you questioned whether the lingering scent of burnt caramel still clung to the air. But Izuku, always perceptive, noted the shift in your aroma, the return of your usual sweet jasmine-like scent. A return that happened a little too quickly for his oral fixation, to be quite honest.

A devious gleam danced in Izuku's emerald eyes as he listened to your words. He leaned back slightly on his knees, his chest rising and falling with his own ragged breaths. "Oh. Sorry, you still smell burnt," he lied with ease, a feigned apologetic smile playing at the corners of his lips. In this moment, he reveled in the idea of indulging his sweet tooth on the object of his obsession- You.

What was another white lie in the grand scheme of things?

Before you could respond, overcome with desire, Izuku plunged back down between your trembling thighs. The sudden latch to your swollen bead caused you to buck against the cold counter, your fingers instinctively tightening around the curls at the base of Izuku's rabbit ears, holding on for dear life. A sharp twinge of over-sensitivity mingles with the persistent pleasure, adding another layer to the overwhelming sensations.

Nose pressed against your mound, Izuku's tongue delved deep, searching for every trace of their intoxicating cum. His mouth moved with a fevered rhythm, his ministrations calculated and purposeful. His tongue speared through your slick folds, flicking and teasing as if he planned to consume every intimate drop. He couldn't get enough of your taste.

Meanwhile, your body danced on the edge of ecstasy once again. The contrasting sensations of pleasure and sensitivity, sent electric currents shooting through every nerve. With each movement of Izuku's skilled tongue, your hips involuntarily bucked and writhed, seeking more of that delicious contact.

As you came a second time, a loud cry escaped your lips, reverberating through the dimly lit space. The intensity of the sensation threatened to overwhelm you, nerves tingling with each tantalizing touch of his skilled tongue.

Izuku's own desire burned hot within him, waiting to be unleashed. Amidst your writhing against his face, Izuku's hips involuntarily jerked forward, another surge of precum staining his boxers. The feeling of the slick fabric against the head of his dick only served to increase his hunger for you.

As your thighs instinctively attempted to clamp shut around Izuku's head in a desperate bid to shield your oversensitive clit, his arms flexed, exerting a near herculean strength to keep them in place. With your back arched and thighs trembling in his hands, you were entirely at Izuku's mercy. It was just easier to surrender to the Flemish Giant's powerful hold rather than fight his iron grip.

Izuku's movements remained unyielding, a relentless pace that threatened to push you past the limits of pleasure and into the realm of cumdrunk ecstasy. In all honesty however, Izuku's own need fueled his actions, his tongue dancing deftly, exploring every hidden crevice with fervor. Maybe he was the cumdrunk one at this point.

“T-too sensitive 'Zuku” your plea for him to let up fell on deaf ears as Izuku wickedly ignored your words, except for the cute way you whimpered his name. Izuku could listen to you stuttering his first name in pleasure for the rest of his life. He took pleasure in pushing you to your limits, eager to indulge in his own selfish desires without hesitation. He had waited so long for this moment, he was going to get his fill. Or at least enough to satiate him while he made his claim.

"You can handle cumming for me again," Izuku insisted, his voice filled with dark adoration as he denied you mercy, before plunging back between your folds. Fuck, he loved you clamping down on his tongue like this, he only hoped you could handle all of him.

Your body quivered in response, overwhelmed by the heightened sensitivity of the onslaught on your swollen clit. Izuku's unwavering focus and iron grip left no room for escape or mercy. His tongue pressed skillfully, teasing and taunting your most sensitive spots, delving in with fervor and purpose. The taste of you, the intoxicating flavor that mingled with your heavenly musk, is like a drug to him, an addiction that drove him deeper into his feral desires.

Your body squirmed uncontrollably, overcome by the unbearable pleasure Izuku exerted on you. Every gentle nip and forceful suck sends you writhing. In desperation, your hands find solace in reaching the base of Izuku's rabbit ears, gently tugging with an almost desperate plea. Too much..!

But far from slowing down Izuku, the sensations of your tender grip on his ears only served to fuel his primal instincts. It's as if the touch of your shaky hands ignited a feral fire within him, intensifying the frenzied pace of his ministrations. His own need reached a fever pitch, his tongue dancing with an even more voracious appetite, ravishing every inch of your cunt.

Your body reacted uncontrollably to the overwhelming sensations, saliva escaping your lips as you moaned and whimpered in a haze of pleasure. Your legs twitching and trembling, but Izuku's firm grip prevented you from dislodging him, keeping you at his mercy.

The sound of Izuku eating out your soaked cunt echoed within the otherwise empty café kitchen, the lewd noises amplified by the decorated tiles. Your grip on the base of Izuku's furry ears tightened, desperation evident as you sought an anchor to ground herself amidst the waves of pleasure forced on you.

Driven by his feral determination, Izuku continued to devour you with a relentless pace. His imposing length now popping up and over the band of his slick boxers, yearned for release. As your squirms and whimpers grew more unrestrained, your body teetered on the edge of a precipice, ready to crash to a blinding climax.

As Izuku forced a third orgasm from your bullied clit, your vision faded into a hazy whiteness, the sheer intensity of the pleasure causing your consciousness to spiral into a realm of overwhelming ecstasy. Your mind became consumed by a kaleidoscope of sensations, blurring the boundaries of pleasure and reality. Your entire being is overwhelmed by the whiteout, a surge of ecstasy that drowns out all other thoughts and sensations.

You remained lost in your own world of ecstasy, mind blissfully blank by the overwhelming pleasure that coursed through your veins. In the midst of the pleasure-induced haze, you barely registered Izuku standing to his full height pushing 7 feet, his uniform khakis and boxers shifted low on his chiseled hips. His imposing figure cast a shadow over your flushed form. He reveled in the sight of your face caught in the throes of your cumdrunk daze, body trembling and clearly craving further gratification.

Who was he to deny you?

With another shift of fabric, Izuku's thick cock sprung forth, liberated from its confines, hardened and throbbing. His erection stood tall despite it's weight, demanding attention, the embodiment of Izuku's primal nature. Flemish Giants are big in, well, every way. If your mind wasn't completely blank right now, you'd probably be worried about how the monstrous girth could fit in you. A concern Izuku clearly didn't have.

With an unquenchable desire driving him, Izuku moved between your quivering thighs, positioning himself to align with your sopping entrance still twitching from your last orgasm. The immense size of his swollen cock head presented a challenge for your tight and unprepared opening. Your poor pussy's struggle to accommodate Izuku's massive girth sent shockwaves through both of your bodies, setting the stage for the battle between resistance and persistence. Don't worry, he'll make sure he fits.

The first few frantic and desperate tries by Izuku only drew a frustrated growl from the large hybrid. Your body strained to accommodate the overwhelming size of Izuku's cock, your senses overloaded with both pleasure and over sensitivity. But with a slick pop, the tip of Izuku's engorged member finally breached your entrance, forcing its way inside.

You remained blissfully lost in a euphoric haze, your body intertwined with Izuku's as he leaned over you. The cafe's dim lighting from the sunrise cast gentle shadows across the kitchen, highlighting Izuku's disheveled green curls and the captivating glow of his emerald eyes, resembling one of the rabbits forged from swirling shadows on the mural that adorns the wall.

Leaning over you, Izuku's dominant side asserts itself, swiftly pressing your knees up towards your shoulders. Applying pressure to open them wider, he exposed every inch of your quivering slit spread tight around the head of his dick. With a growl of determination, Izuku bullied his way further inside your depths, his larger size causing a twinge of pain as he stretched you to your limit to accommodate him. Your body struggled with the difference between him and Katsuki.

The sheer size of Izuku's cock, larger than even your room mate's, brings a mixture of pleasure and ache to your sensitized cunt. While Katsuki's barbs had their own unique sting, the contrast in size between him and the rabbit currently using you like a fucktoy induced new levels of soreness and bliss.

Izuku thinks he may have found heaven when he finally breaks in your pussy enough for his monstrous dick to bottom out against your cervix. Undeterred by your cunt's struggle, Izuku sets a rapid rabbit pace, his thrusts forceful and demanding.

The sound of their intertwining bodies filled the room, the wet slapping of Izuku's balls against your ass creating a rhythm that added to the sound of their escalating pleasure. Despite the stinging stretch, you remained freely vocal, too lost in your bliss to be concerned about anything else. Izuku's moans and your cries filled the air, adding to the sinful symphony.

As Izuku's large muscles flexed, his grip on the counter edge on either side of your head tightened, seeking leverage to thrust even more deeply. His forearms came to rest on the cold surface. Your knees were pinned again Izuku's chest, as each of his motions rocked your body forcefully against the stone counter of the kitchen island.

As Izuku continued his relentless pace, his large muscles flexing with each powerful thrust, his emerald eyes shone with feral bliss. Soft forest green ears were pinned back against his curls, a clear sign of his animalistic desire taking hold. Noticing your slightly pained fucked-out expression, Izuku found a sort of sadistic glee in your reactions. He couldn't help but revel in the sense of superiority it gave him.

No fucking way that crispy room mate of yours has ever filled you like this before.

"Aw, am I too big? Does it sting?" Izuku crooned huskily in your ear, voice filled with a twisted sense of satisfaction. "Fuck..! Taking me like such a good little pet- I knew you could handle it.” Even if his love is tainted by selfish obsession, he takes genuine pride in your resilience. Not everyone could take his bitch breaking girth the first time. Or at all.

You could only offer a weak nod in response to what little you catch of his words. Your walls clung to his thick length, the stretch more than you've ever experienced before. Yet, your blissed-out state allowed you to push through the discomfort of having your guts rearranged, exchanging it for a facet of ecstasy that only Izuku could provide. You were intoxicated.

The grip of your walls around his pulsing member further fueled his desire, his relentless pace never faltering. Your pussy clung desperately to his too thick cock, the force of each slam eliciting a a ragged gasp as he bottomed out against your cervix. His intense gaze locks onto your dilated eyes, drinking in every nuance of your cumdrunk expressions as you submitted to him completely.

For Izuku, this moment is the culmination of his desires since the moment you were hired at one of his coffee shops. His obsessive desire for you have driven him to go to great lengths, even "hiring" himself as a barista to get close to you. Now, his darkest desires are being fulfilled, the mate he craves finally within his grasp.

Fuck, he wasn't going to last much longer with you looking past him all fucked-out like that.

Intense pleasure coursing through your veins, you were overcome by the sensory overload of cumming again. Saliva escaped your parted lips, a shiny trail down the side of your chin. Your moans and whimpers intermingled with the wet, lewd sounds of your boss' thrusts into you, heavy balls accentuating squelches with quick slaps against your ass. Your gushing cunt walls attempted to tighten around Izuku's massive member with some success as you reached one last mind shattering orgasm. Your trembling pussy clamped down as best it could, Izuku thrusting all the while.

As he reached his own tipping point, Izuku's rabbit ears stood straight up, a visible sign of his peaking pleasure. “S-shit” He whined, your tight cunt was strangling his cock, causing his foot to bounce uncontrollably as he thrust as fast as possible. Each slam was met with the rhythmic spasming of your walls, clenching onto his too thick length with a desperate intensity. The sensation of your pussy clinging to his dick on every exiting pull, and the feel of his mushroom tip slamming against your cervix, was too much for Izuku. Driven by his unbridled desire, Izuku maintained his rabbit-like pace until the end, unable to resist the sweet agony of the tight vice that surrounded him.

With a deep groan of satisfaction, Izuku succumbed to the milking motion of your tight ring of muscles. The tip of his cock became engorged and sensitive, the pressure pushing him over the edge, the slit gushing forth with his warm cum. Pumping spurt after spurt, Izuku filled your womb with his seed, the pulsing sensation mixing with the raw pleasure that coursed through you both. One of his fuzzy ears cocked to the side, a visual display of the euphoria that engulfed him.

As with most rabbit hybrids, Izuku momentarily leaned all his weight on your pinned legs and his forearms, his body collapsing with the intensity of his climax. Your cunt walls stretched tight around his member still milked and clenched, coaxing every drop of his essence from within him. Overwhelmed by the influx of cum you could only moan brokenly in bliss, your consciousness long faded away during your last orgasm.

In the aftermath of your shared climax, Izuku remained trembling and breathless over your spent body, his emerald eyes still gleaming with a primal intensity, as he nuzzled your hair. The cafe was filled with the scent of your combined arousal, a poignant reminder of the powerful connection. A perfect mix of pine needles, yuzu zest and jasmine blossoms in the smug Izuku's opinion.

Much better than that burnt sugar bastard's stench.

Izuku needs a few tries to withdraw from your clasping cunt, before the head of his dick pops free of your pubic ridge with a final jerk of his hips. He hissed in oversensitive pleasure at the sensation of pulling free of your quim. Geez, were all humans this small on the inside? He wondered as his cum began to gush out of you. Izuku's viscous seed quickly flowed down your folds, trailing onto the cold counter top before beginning to drip onto the floor. He could definitely get used to that image. “You should get some rest” Izuku smugly beamed down at you before planting a soft kiss on your forehead, your lids heavy with fatigue. You could hardly fight the chemicals, both natural and otherwise at this point, from pulling you into slumber, and soon you lost the battle. He smiled as he heard your breathing even out, asleep.

Izuku's tea, and it's added ingredient, had taken longer to take effect than he expected. When he saw how exhausted you were, he had just intended for you to nap through your shift. Cuddle with your unconscious form under a cozy blanket in the autumn afternoon during his lunch hour, maybe. Izuku was so glad he'd been given enough time make you cry his name so prettily before you slipped into sleep.

In comparison to this morning, you looked so serene and relaxed, even after your intense encounter. Izuku leaned over you, his forearms resting on the cold stone, nuzzling your hair tenderly. His nose twitched, catching your mingled scents again, making his rabbit ears flick with delight. Izuku, hidden behind his gentle facade once again, wished he had “hired” himself sooner. He could have felt you shuddering around him months ago, but he vowed to make up for lost time now that you were already spreading yourself for him on his kitchen counter.

With gentle care, Izuku's muscular frame picked up your sleeping body from the kitchen counter. He cradled in his arms with a protective tenderness, mindful not to jostle you from slumber. He carried down the hall to the employee room across from the office, where a comfy jade couch awaited, a place for you to rest while he tended to the café.

As Izuku lay you down on the couch, your sleepy form stirred and before turning over with a yawn. Izuku would have stayed there, with his forehead against yours, all day. However, as the sunrise streamed through the kitchen skylight, Izuku became aware of just how late in the morning it was. With the sun coming up, he only had a few minutes until the coffee shop opened. He watched over you for a moment more, ensuring you were comfortably tucked into a cushy blanket, before he turned his attention to the café.

After all, as the owner of the 'Lunar Rabbit' chain, Izuku had responsibilities to fulfill.

Izuku is gonna be mad when he realizes he left the pastries in the oven, but raspberry croutons are a small price to pay in the long run.

Comments and Reblogs make a difference!

[jsprnt]

Americano PT. 11 | Jude Bellingham x Reader

What happens if two individuals who absolutely despise each other are forced to interact after unforeseen events occur?

A/N: Hi babes!!!! I’m so happy to be back, I missed writing and interacting with yall 😭 enjoy reading my loves <3

W/C: 3.447

part ten

Jude was everywhere.

Every-fucking-where.

At home, at work, sometimes even at the clubs or bars I visited..

Every corner I turned, every morning I woke up- he had to be standing or sitting closer to my vicinity than I would have ever wanted.

I rub my eyes roughly, trying to get some food into my system before we had to start packing for the Union Berlin game in Germany. The last to secure our spot in the last 16 of the Champions League.

"Can you pass the water?"

I look up, my grumpy state worsened after hearing the annoying pest's voice.

"No.." I reply, deciding to be petty, pushing the water bottle over anyway.

We don't speak for the rest of breakfast, tensions high after having to endure each other's presence for more than a week.

I had never missed my dad's presence this much before, and my patience was running so thin- if I snapped, I wouldn't even be surprised.

I get off my chair when the doorbell rings, getting up quickly to open the door, knowing it would be my package.

I smile at the delivery driver, signing his tablet quickly, before accepting the huge package.

I slam the door closed with my leg, not being able to see where I'm going while I carry the heavy machine inside.

"Let me help.." I hear Jude perk up. I hear the paddling of his house slippers come closer, a sudden warmth grazing against my fingers.

I almost drop the heavy package in surprise, hand slipping away from the cardboard box. Eyes wide when I realize Jude's holding the package with a stable grip and ease. His face hidden behind the box.

"On the counter?" He questions, already turning and walking towards the kitchen island before I can reply.

I hurry behind him, eyes shifting over his form. Muscles protruding due to the work he's putting into placing the box on the counter.

"Thank you.."

The words feel foreign falling from my lips, only because they are directed at someone I never thought I'd simply thank.

He only replies with a small grunt, motioning to the huge box with his head, his hands going up to roll his T-shirt sleeves up.

I avert my gaze from his arms, to the package, quickly grabbing a butter knife from the kitchen cabinet.

I slide the knife through the transparent tape, directing the knife away from myself.

Standing on my tiptoes, a small noise of irritation leaves my mouth when I pull the coffee machine out of its box.

"Really? A coffee machine?" I hear Jude say, his hand reaching over to pull out the folded invoice included in the package.

"A thousand euros?!" He exclaims, looking like his eyes are about to pop out of his head.

I grumble, snatching the papers out of his hands.

"I didn't pay, don't you worry.."

I wouldn't be the brightest to buy such an expensive machine with my own money, my salary wasn't exactly that much to splurge like this.

"Oh, daddy's money- got it.." He smirks, folding his arms on his chest. The white T-shirt pressing closer to his torso.

"Last night you came home with those ugly ass sneakers worth five thousand euros- don't even try it.."

I scoff, trying to glaze over the fact that I indirectly called my house, his home.

I grab the instructions of the machine, carrying it over to plug in the socket.

"Do you even know how that thing works?"

"Obviously, I'm not someone who buys seven euro lattes every damn day.."

I fill the water reservoir, inspecting the compartments carefully, then turn the machine on.

"Oh, you're so much better than me for making coffee at home.." He mocks, making me turn around, hand resting on the base of the machine absentmindedly as it warms up.

"How difficult is it for you to- fuck.."

I whip my head around, fingers stinging as hot water pours from the coffee machine. I gasp loudly, pulling my wet hand away from it rapidly.

"What did you do?" I hear Jude exclaim, he snatches my wrist, pulling me towards the sink with haste. He pulls my hand towards the faucet, allowing water to soothe my burning hand.

"Are you ever careful?!" He hisses, gripping my wrist tightly. I look up from the streaming water, confused by how frustrated he looks.

"It's fine, it wasn't that hot.." I mumble, feeling his hold tighten. I begin wiggling my hand out of his, giving him a quizzical look.

"Let go, Jude.." I add, finally getting my hand free from his iron grip.

I hear him sigh as he runs a hand down his face. He stares at me for a moment, then I watch him disappear for a moment, into the bathroom.

I take a deep breath, inspecting any changes in the skin of my fingers. Not noticing anything, I pull my hand away from the faucet. The stinging not as bad as earlier. I turn the water off, ready to walk away and grab a kitchen towel to dry my hand.

"Come here." I hear Jude say, I look up immediately, seeing him sitting at the dining table with a first aid kit. One he'd probably found while snooping around in the bathroom.

I walk over without protest, sitting next to him awkwardly. I hold my hand out, watching him treat my hand.

"It's literally not even that bad-"

"Stop talking." He deadpans, making me raise my brows. He coats my burnt skin with soothing cream, making me wince a couple times.

"Thank you.."

Again, I said it again.

I clear my throat, trying to ignore the heat creeping up to my cheeks, embarrassed by our proximity.

"We should get to packing. We have to leave in a couple hours.”

"Congratulations guys! You’ve all worked so hard.." I praise, hugging each individual player when they walk into the changing room. Patting them on the shoulder proudly.

"Rough game, wasn't it?" I ask Joselu, chuckling at his expression. The man had put his entire heart and soul into the game, giving us two goals- making his POTM title well-deserved.

"I'm so exhausted. You sure you want me for the interview?" He asks, pulling his jacket on.

I nod, motioning to Luis.

"We're ready, when you're ready.."

The interview doesn't take long, and before I knew it, we had all arrived back at our hotel. It had become a small tradition for some of the players and staff to chill in the hotel restaurant after matches, and this night was no exception.

Due to how close our team is, most of us didn't really get dressed up. We had some tea or coffee with small desserts or plates of cut-up fruit.

It was insanely cold in Berlin, obviously due to the season, and the rain wouldn't stop pouring from the sky. The heating was on in the restaurant, accompanied by the cosy fireplace right behind our table.

I check the time in the midst of listening to Federico's story about what he did during his last break. Seems like the rest of the table thinks it's hilarious, because they all burst out in laughter while I'm distracted by my phone.

My eyes water in exhaustion, and I clench my jaw in order to hold a yawn back, not trying to look annoyed or bored.

Waiting for the right timing, I get up, bidding farewell to the team, then I quickly walk into the elevator, pressing the button to my floor.

Arriving in my hotelroom, I jump onto the fluffy, soft bed, sighing in pleasure.

Though, my peace is short-lived when there is a harsh knock on my door.

I grumble, getting up annoyed- stupid enough to open the door without checking or verifying who it is.

It's no one else than Jude, a familiar-looking piece of jewelry in his palm.

"You dropped this earlier." He mutters, holding the gold bracelet out.

I hum, holding my hand out, so he can attach it back to my wrist.

I hear him scoff, smug look on his face as he looks at me, placing the bracelet on my wrist. I don't give him the satisfaction of having my attention- instead I scroll on my phone, refreshing the browser to see if my most recent test results will show up.

"No way!"

I scream, eyes going wide, as I realize I had passed all of my exams, even the one I cried about on the way home.

"What?" Jude asks, confused by the excitement in my eyes and form.

"I passed!" I shove the phone into his face, not even letting him see for a split-second until I pull my phone away and place it on the vanity.

"I passed, Jude!" I squeal again, unconsciously grabbing onto the puzzled guy’s hands. I squeeze his hand, soft skin caressing mine, while I beam with joy. Widest smile on my face as I jump up and down.

"You passed? Even though you were crying at the kitchen table all night long?"

I freeze, stopping myself from jumping again, looking up at him, surprised.

"You saw that?"

"You were making it a little too obvious.."

I scoff, looking down at our intertwined hands, immediately pulling my hand back in embarrassment. Confused about why I let my vulnerability slip so easily.

"Okay, well, you can leave if there is nothing else.." I mutter, unable to ignore the huge, smug smile on his face.

"Goodnight, y/n.." He speaks, stepping back, and I wish I could wipe that smirk off his face.

Maybe even a punch…

"Goodnight, or whatever.." I blurt, slamming the door closed in his face.

"No- don't come in.." y/n slurs, collecting her bag from the dashboard. Vision blurred and disoriented as she fidgets with the car door.

"Are you sure? You're absolutely hammered.." Luis asks, leaning over to open the door for the frazzled girl.

"Yup! All good." She replies, heels killing her feet when she steps out of the car.

"Bye!" She adds, slamming the door a little too hard, earning a yell from her best friend, before she stumbles to the front door of her house.

Nights like these are why she's happy there is a keypad on the door as well, fishing for her keys in this state would be a disaster.

She punches the numbers in quickly, hearing Luis's car drive away when she opens the door and stumbles inside.

It's not as dark inside as she'd imagined, instead, the living room lights are on. The TV blaring with a show she's unfamiliar with.

Throwing her heels off, she makes a beeline towards the couch, slumping against the soft cushions.

"y/n?" She hears a voice say, not bothering to open her eyes, she hums in response.

"You okay?" The Brum accent asks, and instantly a warm hand makes contact with her forehead.

"You're drunk." He says, stating it as a fact, rather than a question.

"I'm not drunk, let me sleep." She replies, shifting on the couch.

"You need to get cleaned up. You reek of alcohol." He urges, hand going to pull her arm up. 

"No!" She replies, gasping when she's lifted up from the couch. Opening her eyes, she clutches onto his shirt, confused by where he's bringing her.

"What are you doing?"

"You wanted to sleep, no?" He mutters cockily, slowly walking up the stairs, strong arms wrapped around her back and thighs.

She makes a small noise in exhaustion, unconsciously placing her head on his broad shoulder. Undeniably, her makeup smudges against the gray fabric of his shirt, but he doesn't seem to mind all that much, not even realizing the small grin on his own face as he places her in her bed.

He switches her bedside lamp on, happy he's not missed the bed when placing her on it in the dark.

Stepping back, he pulls the covers over her body, looking around for some specific thing. He steps closer to her vanity, looking for something similar to what his mother used to remove her own makeup.

Jude makes a small noise of satisfaction when he sees a pack of wipes, the English text on it enough to confirm it's the item he's looking for.

He turns around with the pack of wipes, stepping closer to the sleeping girl. He carefully sits on the empty side of her bed, careful not to touch her unnecessarily, grabbing a wipe, and clumsily rubbing the white towel along her face.

His face inches closer to her sleeping one, trying to remove the makeup enough so it won't stain her white pillows. He watches her eyelids and face twitch, causing a soft, fuzzy feeling to creep up into his chest.

His breath hitches when he realizes their proximity. He pulls the makeup-stained wipe away from her face, grabbing a clean one and caressing it on her soft cheek.

When her face is wiped clean, he pulls back, chest thumping with an unwelcome feeling. A soft sigh leaves his plump lips, he runs a hand down his face. Grabbing the edge of her warm blanket, placing it on her, causing her to shift a little in her slumber.

A familiar feeling of déjà vu passes through his senses, a soft grunt coming from the sleeping girl next to him. 

He pauses his movements, eyes roaming on her sleeping face, before he gets up from her bed. Leaving the lamp on as he hurriedly walks out of her room. Accidentally taking the pack of wipes with him, and forgetting to close her door in his sudden hurry.

December in Madrid was something Jude was slowly getting used to. Although nothing could compare to the weather in Birmingham and Dortmund he'd gotten familiar with over the years. 

It’s only hours later, past three in the morning, when he's awoken by pain in his shoulder. It had been bothering him for weeks now, but he was insisting on playing.

Even if it meant that he had to wear a personalized shoulder brace and had to take injections to combat the pain during important games. 

His move to Madrid was no doubt a big one, with the entirety of the football world looking at how the 100 million-euro transfer would start his first season at Real Madrid.

To Jude, even a dislocated shoulder could not hold him back from delivering his best performance. 

Sitting up from the bed he had been calling his own, for the past few weeks, he looks around the dark room. Rain trickling out of the dark clouds and harshly hitting the huge windows of his room. 

Jude gets up from the comfort of the warm bed, pulling his shirt off to check his shoulder. He had been wearing his brace regularly, but sometimes it would be so uncomfortable that he had to take it off in the middle of the night. 

He unbuckles the belt that’s secure on his chest, expensive material soft to the touch as he slides the black brace off carefully. A soft grunt of pain leaves his mouth as he throws it to the other side of the bed. 

Pulling his slippers on and opening the door of his room, he can only see light emitting from y/n's room. Her bedroom door open since he had forgotten to close it earlier. 

He averts his gaze from her room, ready to go downstairs to grab a cup of water. Though, he stops dead in his tracks when he hears noise coming from her room. A soft whimper, accompanied by the rustle of her movements. 

Not another thought runs through his head before he makes a beeline into her room. He walks past her door, her body visibly restless underneath her blanket. He stands next to her bed awkwardly, moving his face closer to inspect the scrunch of her brows, displaying the distress on her face. 

"y/n.." He begins, ignoring the pain in his shoulder. He lifts his hand, moving his hand to her cheek, touching it tenderly with his thumb. Trying to rouse her from her sleep. Though, seems like it doesn’t work, especially since her face twitches again. 

"Hey! Wake up.." Jude whisper-shouts, not even realizing or asking himself what he is trying to accomplish. 

"Fucking hell. What am I even trying to do." He curses to himself, moving his hand to her shoulder again. She’s still dressed in her clubbing outfit from last night, causing his hand to make immediate contact with her bare shoulder. 

"Mom.." A sudden whisper leaves her lips, full of raw emotion and sadness. A ragged breath follows, the tremble of her lip visible in the dim light next to them. 

Jude immediately halts all of his movements, his breath hitches in surprise. He had never heard her or others around her utter a single word about her mother. It was always about her father or one of her aunts. 

Jude was never curious about it for some reason. He had many friends whose parents weren’t together or single. Her only having her father in her life, or to the extent he’d seen- wasn’t all that surprising until this very moment. 

"Don't go..." Another whimper, followed by an audible, strangled sob, tears glistening in the corners of her closed eyes. 

He had never felt this confused and helpless before. Feeling his chest tighten, he leans over her body, moving to sit next to her on the bed. With one last shake of her shoulders, he tries to wake her up from her horror-filled dream. 

"y/n!" He shouts this time, voice echoing along with the rainfall outside, his brows furrowed in worry. 

y/n's eyes snap open in shock, mouth falling open, only for her lips to tremble.

Tears fill her eyes, the only thing visible to her: Jude's concerned face. 

Picking up on her sudden shock, his arms snake around her back, allowing her to sit up and breathe. 

"You’re fine, it was just a dream.." He says softly, eyes focused on her face. Instead of his words soothing her, tears start falling down her cheeks, breath unsteady as sobs fall from her lips. 

His eyes widen, her state blind-siding him.

Yes, he had seen her cry once or twice before, but this- this was different. The girl's face was absolutely clad in pain and sadness.

It made his heart and soul shatter, blood running cold at the sight. 

"Hey.. Look at me.." He mutters, hand reaching up to her chin. His fingers graze her skin, gently but firmly lifting her head to make eye contact with her wet eyes. 

She faces him, cheeks and lashes wet from tears. Eyes bloodshot, as her lips tremble uncontrollably. Jude's eyes soften, brows scrunching in more concern. 

"y/n-" He tries to call out to her to further ground her, though a soft gasp leaves his mouth when she practically launches herself into his hold.

Her trembling body pressed against his naked chest, shaky arms wrapped around his back. 

Her forehead collides with his collarbone, to his luck, not against his injured shoulder. His arms fall against his side in bewilderment, mouth falling open for a moment. Only her soft sobs audible next to the raging storm outside. 

Her nails claw against his bare back, not realizing the slight pain she’s causing him through her sheer desperation of wanting to feel safe and grounded. 

Jude can feel his skin burning up. Of course, he had his fair share of subtle or intimate touches with other women. A hug, a kiss- whatever it had been- his body had never gone this rigid before.

He's pulled out of his thoughts by her nonstop sobbing. Getting his courage and shit together, and pushing his shock away- he lifts his hand from his side, sliding his arms around her back, pulling her body flush against his. 

"You're okay. You’re safe..." He mumbles, fingers rubbing her nape soothingly, other hand pressing her face closer against his chest. 

"I'm here, y/n.." The unfamiliar sentence leaves his mouth with a shaky breath, her sobbing continuing all through his sweet words. 

He's absolutely certain, that if she were fully conscious and not crying her heart out- she'd be able to hear the stupid thundering of his heart, maybe it would be even louder than the storm outside. 

He also knows that this feeling has been brewing in his chest like a damn F5 tornado for the past few weeks.

Causing incredible damage to his heartstrings and confusion to his feelings and thoughts...

[rookthebird]

i think one of coriolanus snow's love languages is protecting people.

the engagement ring he proposes with? there's a tracking beacon underneath the mine-cut diamond.

the extravagant necklace that's a "just because I love you" gift? if you turn the clasp a certain way, there's a hidden compartment filled with poison.

that delicate rose brooch? twist the stem. it's a knife.

and he couldn't be prouder when those gifts get used.

[star-archer]

No Exit [Chapter Six]

Summary: Bucky hates snow, but a snowstorm on the way to his sister’s memorial keeps him overnight at a mountain lookout rest area with a motley crew of strangers: a trucker, a businessman, some roadtrippers, and You, an apparent runaway full of secrets. When strange things start happening, a light-hearted lock-in turns dark and dangerous. (Loosely based on the 2022 film of the same title.)

Pairing: Post FatWS!Bucky x amnesiac!Reader

Chapter Word Count: 2177

Warnings: violence and gore, memory loss, angst, brief mentions of drug abuse, weapons, torture, sexual content.

A/N: Just a little warning that this chapter is very violent, and there are several mentions of familial death.

It's rather action heavy, and I did enjoy writing. I hope you like it! Thanks, as always, for reading xo

Series Masterlist | star-archer masterlist

★★★

Bucky awoke in the dark, a skull-aching pain up his right side, and a puddle of something beneath his cheek on the tile floor. He groaned, tried to reorient, and pushed himself upright with the Vibranium. He peered into the darkness, blood pounding from right to left as he recalibrated, and he noticed two occupied cots, pressed together. The ringing of his ear faded to the dull roar of Dorian’s snore, and it all came rushing back. 

He felt the sting of something on his right shoulder, and he yanked it off with his left hand, looking at the sting device that had implanted into him. Electronic, maybe disguised as a watch, with little hooked feet that had latched to the muscles of his traps and sent a shockwave of electricity down his side. Now as he stared at the little OsCorp logo, he felt the tingles of feeling surge back into him.

With a growl, he grasped the edge of your cot and lifted himself upright. You weren’t there, and when he turned, he saw that both Murphy and Kenneth were missing from their cots. And just beyond, in the snow drifts of the parking lot, he noticed a faint blue glow from the opened back-end of the semi-trailer. 

Dragging a slowly mobilizing left leg, Bucky limped to his bag, pulled out a hidden knife and strapped it around his thigh. Then, he made his way out to the cold.

He grit his teeth against the wind chill. It had stopped snowing, maybe an hour or two earlier, but the snow still piled at odd ends of the oversized lot. The powder slid beneath limped boot fall, and he poked once more at the comms device imbedded in his ear. “Sam Wilson, answer me right now.” But the line remained as silent as the wind in the trees, the sky clearing for a blanket of stars. 

He cursed at himself for parking so far away, and he contemplated whether or not it was worth it to grab his pistol from the glove compartment when he heard your cries from the back end of the truck. With a deep breath, and a roll of his shoulders, he set off your direction instead. 

“What do you want from me?” You cried. “Why are you doing this?”

“Will you shut up?” Kenneth whined. He was scared, frantic, green. 

Bucky lined himself against the truck, pulled out his knife, inched toward the open back.

“I told you, princess. You’ve been a very bad girl, and my boss is paying me big bucks to bring you back to him.” Murphy’s voice was like velvet. He was totally at ease. He’d kidnapped hundreds of times before. He was in acquisitions.

Bucky cursed to himself. Of course. He should have seen this coming, should have seen this coming. He’d dealt with traffickers like this asshole in the past. Hell, he’d been one of them. Never for this company, and never in a vault like this one, but he’d picked up a few girls and shoved them into the back end of sprinter vans, shipped them off to remote islands. The idea made his stomach roll with nausea.

Another deep breath, the clench and release of his fist around the knife to ensure he had his strength back, he swung around the back end of the trunk and slashed at target number one. Murphy was closest, must have heard him, blocked his forearm and ducked out of the way of the knife. Bucky was still to weak. He’d managed to disarm him, and Kenneth panicked and kicked the blade halfway under the trailer. 

Guess it was man-to-man. Bucky swung and landed a punch before he took a knee to the chest. With a growl, he swung again, but Murphy caught his wrist. What the Hell did he stick him with? Bucky groaned under he’d been put in a headlock, and he managed to look up and see your stunned features watching it all unfold. “Get out of here!” He roared, kicking Murphy off of him and throwing him to the ground in a flurry of snow and slush.

Two blows to the head with vibranium and Murphy was out cold. Bucky watched you leap from the trailer and you slipped a bit on the ice before he caught you around the waist and helped you back across the lot and into the building. God, he hated snow.

You were clinging to him, air choked in your throat, but he was watching the door, waiting for Murphy to get back up, to round that corner. He should have killed him. Bucky ran a hand down your face, pulled your gaze to his. “Are you okay?” You nodded, and he led you back to your cot. 

It was quiet, too quiet. He heard only the ragged sound of your breath from your lips and the soft snores of the couple on the cot. He frowned down at them. They must have been drugged. It was the only explanation. Although, he bristled at the thought that they might be in on this two, this conspiracy to take you to their Boss, whoever that may be. 

Bucky felt the tug of your fingers between his, and he gave you a squeeze, but then something squeaked from down the hall near the restrooms, and he watched as the barrel of a gun slipped back into the light. 

“I’m sorry, Sergeant Barnes,” Kenneth’s voice trembled as much as his hand. 

Bucky shoved you behind him and lifted his hands in surrender, slowly backing the two of you down the opposite hall, away from the couple sleeping off their drugs. “Kid, you don’t have to do this. Okay? I can help you.” 

The kid shook his head, sweat beading from his hair onto the damp triangle on his t-shirt. His hand still shook. “I have to take her, sir. They’ll kill me if I don’t. They’ll kill my family.” 

Bucky nodded, and they continued their path down the vending machine hallway. If Bucky could just get you to the janitor’s closet, he’d shove you in and go for the kid. But he needed to know you were safe first. “I know, Kenneth, but I can help you with that. My friends are coming, okay? They can help you.” 

Kenneth shook his head. “No. Nobody can help me now.” 

BANG!

Bucky felt searing hot pain in his shoulder. He’d been shot dozens of times, and none of those had been fun either. He grit his teeth through it, tried to shake it off. He’d heal. He always healed. He took a few steps forward then, toward the kid, ready to lunge, to disarm. 

BANG! BANG! 

Two more shots fired out, and Kenneth yelped, dropping his weapon. Just behind him, Bucky saw a swollen-faced Murphy with his pistol drawn to the heads of the sleeping strangers. Bucky dove for Kenneth’s weapon, shoving the kid out of the way with one hand, but before he could fire one off at the Con Man, the Earth seemed to halt on its axis.

It was a dull whir, a pitch unobtainable to hear, and Bucky felt the blood pouring from his ears before he could realize what was happening. Everything had slowed down. He dropped the weapon and slammed his hands over his ears, protected by the impenetrable vibranium on his left side. He swung his head around in search of a culprit, looking for a way to make the sound stop, when glass shattered from everywhere, a spray of fine powder, like snow. The vending machines exploded from beside him, and he rolled out of the way in time to see you.

You were at the lip of the look out, mouth wide in a scream, arms raised in front of you, eyes squeezed shut, the look of absolute horror strewn across your otherwise stunning features. In slow motion, the glass behind you shattered, and he watched as your small frame lifted from the ground and fell. 

He screamed, though he couldn’t hear it, he could feel it in his throat, felt the sounds of your name against his tongue, and he lunged out for you, like an old friend on a freight train, a million miles away. 

—

Nana’s house smelled like rosemary and lemonade and the heat of late spring sunset pouring in through west-facing windows. Dust particles danced in the air and settled on overgrown houseplants and the leather boots that lay beside Granddad’s chair, untouched in the years since he’d passed, but a happy remainder of him all the same. The metronome chimed atop the upright piano, beside a slew of photos of your aunts and uncles and cousins, in various stages of age and life experiences. The tick-tock set your rhythm, kept your focus, allowed you to tune out the drone of the television from the kitchen counter.

With a deep breath, you set fingers to the keys again. Your recital was soon, a handful of days and you’d be giving your final performance, three days after that, you’d be walking the stage in cap and gown, waving your diploma while your family cheered you on. You closed your eyes and settled into the piece. It had to be perfect.

Only, a cry from the kitchen interrupted your focus. Nana called for you, frantic, and you leapt from the bench to rush to the breakfast nook. The old woman had a gnarled hand to her mouth, the other pointed at the television screen in horror. You turned your head to watch the news report, several images flashing of New York City, a giant ring, so much destruction. And then, the broadcast switched to Breaking News, someone familiar, Avengers-adjacent, head hung low. He stood on a podium reading off of a prompter. His hands were shaking.

You couldn’t hear his words, just watched as your grandmother shook her head, sobbed into her hands. All you could hear was the ticking of the metronome. The screen flashed images then, amateur footage from around the world, footage of people disappearing into dust. Planes crashing, buses hitting pedestrians, everyone poofing like the God Damn Rapture, and that’s when the horror set in. 

A deep pit in your stomach, you glanced up at the clock. It was late. Too late. Mom should be off work by now. You turned and ran back to the piano, lifting your phone off the sheet music and slamming the metronome closed. The ticking never ceased. 

You paced the living room, kicking over one of Granddad’s boots while the line rang and rang and rang. You hung up, tried Dad next, tried Uncle Louis, tried Mom again. You turned to find Nana at the piano bench. She reached out to you with a comforting hand. Tears blurred your vision, and you jabbed Mom’s number again. 

Ring. Ring. Ring. “Hello?”

Your breath halted. 

A familiar voice spoke your name, but it sounded far off.

You opened your mouth, tried to answer, to let her know you were there. 

“Oh honey,” came the reply, frantic, sobbing. “Your mom… she just…” 

The phone dropped from your ear, and you felt the emotion surge through you. It felt like a bolt of electricity that started in your throat and surged through every part of you. You felt it out your fingertips, down to your toes, crowning the top of your head. You cried out, let out all of the agony, the pain of lose and grief and anger, and you felt like you were flying. You levitated until your head bumped something, the ceiling, you realized, and the panic set in, that heart wrenching panic that sent you hurtling to the shag carpet below.

The orange shag. You were exhausted. You hadn’t realized you’d blacked out until you heard the sirens, someone calling your name, shaking your shoulders, petting your hair. The orange carpet was red, brown, crusted. Your hands stung, coated in glass. A cool breeze fanned your face, stung at your wounds, and you squinted into the setting sun, uninhibited, bright. You closed your eyes to impede it.

“Can you tell me your name?” A man asked, several men hurried into the home with a gurney. They wore white coats, shined flashlights in your eyes. You watched as they carted Nana away under a white sheet. Her arm slipped from beneath it.

You couldn’t, your voice was too hoarse. You clutched at your throat, but they held you down, gripped your arms tight. Then you heard the whirring. It replaced the ceaseless tick, deep in the base of your skull. They wheeled you out of there, away from the sparkling glass, the upturned boot, the photos of family, the blood on black and white keys. 

They slipped you into the back of a truck, an ambulance? Armored. It was all metal and flashing lights, blue and harsh. It hurt your eyes. The whirring got louder, pounded at your skull. You closed your eyes, shut out the world again, what was left of it. 

[anatee]

In London's Shadow | Jacob Frye | Part 1

I love Jacob more than words can describe and I'm about to beat Syndicate for the second time, so...

Type: Jacob Frye x Fem!Assassin!OC

Summary: Jane is an Assassin sent to London by George after he hears there is some commotion among the Templars. He hopes she would help her old friend, Henry, put an end to it. And there, in London, Jane meets the real reason of the chaos: the Frye twins. She decides to join their cause... And find some patience for that bloody Jacob Frye as she goes.

Content warning: Typical Assassin violence and weapons etc.; spoiler: smut will come, but much later with an appropriate warning.

It was a sunny, but certainly not a nice day in London when Jacob Frye watched his gang's members be slaughtered by Blighters right by his side. The Rooks were far too weak for them, and Jacob promised himself to train them before taking over another district. Not so long ago, they were merely Clinkers, hopelessly trying to fight with the strongest gang in the city, so it was not wise to expect them to possess the skills of an Assassin.

Jacob threw his one last knife straight into a Blighter's chest, and then he smiled triumphantly; all the Blighters were dead - and their stronghold has been taken over by the Rooks. The surviving members immediately burnt the enemy's flag, and Jacob thanked them for their help.

"But do not celebrate too early!" he warned them. "Octavia Plumb is still alive. We have to defeat her today to claim Southwark for good."

He received loud cheers in response, and the Rooks all seemed willing to fight again.

"Get yourselves a pint before we do it," he added quietly, then chuckled to himself and immediately climbed one of the buildings, beginning his journey back to the train hideout. He was so happy, bathing in his victory and in the bright sun, that he didn't even notice he was being... Followed.

"My friends, I've just conquered another Blighter stronghold, so we have a gang fight today," Jacob said, entering the train hideout with a triumphant expression on his face. "Greenie, care to join us?"

Henry Green, bent over some of his papers, looked up from them from the other compartment.

"Oh, I... No, I think I'll stay here, to study the..."

"Eh, you're a stodge," Jacob cut him off, then threw himself onto the armchair with an expression that could make one think he had conquered the world.

"You enjoy this a little too much," Evie said as Henry closed the door to his room, apparently unwilling to talk to Jacob at the time.

"Evie, I told you!" He sat up in the armchair, looking at his twin sister with determination. "The Rooks will control London, and I am a gang leader, as I have always wanted."

Evie leaned herself against the wall, shaking her head.

"I still can't believe you chose the name the Rooks..." Evie began, but then she looked right somewhere behind Jacob, her expression turning serious. "Wait, did you hear that?"

"Do you mean the voices in your hea..." he began, but didn't get to finish as somebody just slid into the train right behind him.

It took Jacob three swift moves to stand up immediately and catch the intruder between his arms. It was a woman, and he was almost strangling her from behind, keeping one arm on her neck, and using the other to threaten her with his hidden blade.

"And who are you?" he hissed into her ear, pulling her even closer to his chest.

"Calm, calm down! I'm with you!" she panted, struggling against Jacob's grip as she looked pleadingly at Evie right in front of her. "I'm an Assassin!" she managed to raise her hand enough for Evie to notice an Assassin ring on her hand.

"Jacob, let her go," Evie said, and her brother reluctantly stepped back, finally allowing the stranger to breathe.

"You have a quite," she coughed, "strong grip going over there," she added, giving Jacob an irritated look.

He looked her up and down with raised eyebrows. She did seem to be an Assassin, because she wore an outfit almost identical to Evie's, but other than that, she could have been any girl from a street. Jacob thought there was literally nothing special about her; there were no distinctive features, she had boring, very light brownish hair reaching her arms and possibly green eyes, but he couldn't tell for sure.

"That's what you get when you barge into someone's hideout unannounced."

"This train isn't that well protected, is it? And you aren't very perceptive as I followed you here easily."

"Why do I feel like we've met before?" Evie asked before Jacob could open his mouth to argue.

"We might have, once. When George's gathered the British Assassins a year ago. He's actually the one that sent me here."

"Wait, may someone enlighten me? Who are you?" Jacob stood between the two girls, looking from one to another in confusion.

The female Assassin turned to Evie with a look of clear irritation on her face.

"Is he always like this?"

Evie laughed.

"You wouldn't imagine."

"My name's Jane Carter. George sent me here because he heard about some commotion here in London... And he wanted me to check on Henry, because he thought the Templars were bothering him. But it seems like it's not the Templars wrecking havoc in here. You are the Frye twins, right?"

"Wait, you're here to report on us?" Jacob asked immediately, and Jane sighed.

"As tempting as you made it," she shot him a look of disapproval, "no. George's extremely afraid, and I don't understand why. But I heard from people you two began to fight the Templars... And honestly, I want to join. That's what our Creed is for, not for hiding when Templars are out here ruling the city."

Jacob didn't want to admit it, but he was impressed. His thoughts were exactly the same and made him warm up to their new friend.

"Oh, I've changed my mind. I think I like you."

"Then welcome on board," said Evie, extending her hand to Jane, which she shook happily.

"Anything I can help you with at the moment?"

"Actually, we're gearing up for a gang fight and all extra hands mare welcome," Jacob said, causing her to raise her eyebrows.

"A gang fight? Now what's this?"

"Jacob started a gang. And he named them the Rooks," Evie explained, shooting her brother a disappointed look. "We want to take control over all the districts of London."

"Splendid. I'ts been a while since I beat some Templar butts," Jane replied and she was just about to add something when the door opened and Henry stepped into the comparment.

"Jane!" he exclaimed, clearly surprised.

"Hello, Henry. It's been a while," she smiled at him.

"A while indeed. What are you doing here?"

Evie and Jacob exchanged worried looks. They hoped Jane wouldn't let Henry know it were not the Council's orders that made them come to Londin.

"Just the regular, getting strangled and all that," she replied, giving Jacob one last stare, but this time with a little smile. "George's sent me. He was scared for you."

"Oh, I'm doing quite alright here... Now that Evie and Jacob are here to help. But every kind of help is welcome."

"Now that makes three of us to help you fight the Templars." Jane smiled. "I hear that Starrick guy isn't too pleasant."

"Fantastic." Jacob rolled his eyes. "Now that we are done with all the greetings, we can leave for the fight."

"Wait. Before you go with us out into the city, we should get you some new weapons. What do you have?" Evie asked, turning to Jane.

"On me?" she asked, but didn't wait for an answer. "Just some knives, smoke bombs, and the old and loyal..." She showed her her hidden blade, then immediately hid it again. "As long as I have the blade, I'm good."

Jacob seemed outraged. "Hey, that's my part!"

"We need to visit Bell," Evie said sharply, ignoring her brother. "Maybe he can make another rope launcher for you."

"A rope launcher?" asked Jane, intrigued, as she has never heard of something like that before. "It seems like London really is the most modern city in the world."

"Great, so... Can you take Jane to Bell and show her around?" Henry asked hopefully. He didn't seem eager to go into the city himself.

"Actually, we..." Jacob began, but Evie cut him off immediately:

"Of course."

"London looks breathtaking. It's not my first time here, but I'm still impressed," said Jane, having jumped out of the train with Evie. They were walking by a small street, passing quaint, victorian buildings along the way, not minding the puddles that haven't dried yet after yesterday's rain.

Many carriages crossed the streets, and the pavements were bustling with people, both the poor and the rich; the city was alive, you could see it everywhere. Both the Frye twins and Jane did feel the difference from the small towns they came from.

"I can't stop marvelling. I've never seen so many people in one place before," Evie admitted as Jane eyed the street dreamily.

"Who knows... If we got rid of the Templars, then maybe it'd be nice to move here. The perks of being an orphan, you know, Evie? Ever since I left the orphanage, nobody's told me what to do."

These words caused Evie to lower her head, sighing.

"It's just the two of us with Jacob, too," she replied, causing Jane to open her mouth and slow down for a moment.

"No... Has your father passed away? Ethan Frye?"

Evie nodded as Jane put her hand on her chest.

"I'm so sorry... He was a great Assassin, I had the chance to train with him, even if for a very short time... I'm so sorry for your loss, truly."

"Thank you," Evie replied politely.

Jacob had been walking slowly a bit behind his sister and their new friend all this time. From this spot, he could compare them in a way; Jane was a little shorter than Evie, but wore the same boots with a small heel, and a light grey outfit, different from his sister's navy blue one. Evie's black hair was tied into a braid around her head, while Jane's hair was freely falling to her shoulders, and not an inch more. They were both similarly slim and toned and, in Jacob's eyes, equally annoying. The Assassin was sure that last thing made them click so quickly.

When Jacob got bored of comparing them, he picked up his pace and jumped in front of the two women, interrupting their conversation.

"You don't want to tell me we'll be walking all the way to Bell's," he said, forcing them to stop.

"I'm showing Jane around like Mr. Green asked," Evie replied in an obvious tone, making Jacob roll his eyes.

"Oh, of course, Mr. Green. Forgive me for not bursting with excitement. Can we at least go up?"

"Go wherever you want," Evie snapped, what her twin took as an invitation.

"See you at Bell's!" he shouted, then launched his rope and hooked it onto one of the closest rooftops to climb the building quickly.

"Nice thing, this rope," Jane admitted, watching in awe as Jacob jumped onto the roof effortlessly.

"Yes, it helps in moving around a lot. You'll like it... Unlike my brother."

A small laugh escaped Jane's mouth. She was still watching Jacob jump from one roof to another, parallel to the street.

"I can't wait. And about your brother, well..." She looked back at Evie. "I've never had siblings, but I constantly had to share things with kids back at the orphanage, and endure a lot. Trust me, he's not that bad."

"You don't know him yet," Evie argued, but Jane stayed unconvinced.

"I try to be nice, because your father, in this short peroid of time I trained with him, told me that I reminded him of his son. That I was... Similarly impatient, to say the least."

"I'm sure not as much as... Damn it."

Evie stopped dead in her tracks, focusing on something in front of her, what confused her friend.

"What's up?"

"The Blighters," she explained and Jane recognised the enemies in distinctive red blazers. "They're looking for us, because they'd probably noticed Jacob. And now they'll be chasing us. Come on, there's a shortcut..."

"Wait..." Jane stopped Evie before the latter could go away. "I would love to resolve this here and now."

"But..." Evie began, but Jane already dashed forward, straight into the alley full of Blighters.

Jacob was about to use his rope to shorten his way over a turn, when he noticed some commotion on the other side. He didn't even have to look closer to know it was Jane, her grey cape easily distinguishable between dark buildings. She was fighting a whole group of Blighters - by herself.

"Oi! Fun without me?" Jacob muttered to himself, outraged by the fact that nobody invited him to the fight.

He immediately launched the rope towards the building next to the commotion, then jumped straight into the fight.

"Damsel in distress?" he asked, tackling one of the Blighters from above and quickly assassinating him with his blade.

Jane gave him half a look, busy fighting two Blighters at once.

"Are you calling yourself one?" she snapped, using a strong kick to put one of the men to the ground.

With Jacob's help, the group of Blighters decreased quickly. Terrified civilians who saw it began to run away, however the Assassins couldn't take care of this. Jacob pulled his blade out of the last enemy when Evie finally reached them.

"Well," he turned to Jane as he looked around the bodies of Blighters around them, "turns out you can fight."

"You too, a little," she snapped back, breathing heavily, but they exchanged small smiles eventually, happy with their performance.

"I take back what I said. You might be a little similar," Evie said, watching the mess they had left in disbelief. "Provoking a fight in the middle of the city?!"

"It's an alley," Jacob noticed, but his sister didn't listen to him.

"Forgive me, Evie," said Jane, leaning over one of the Blighters' bodies and robbing him. "It's been a while since I got any action, and they would try to kill us anyway. It's always a few less Templar thugs to get rid of."

Jacob could listen to her for hours; he thought exactly the same, and after that fight he completely forgot about her barging into the train.

"Now we understand each other," said Jacob, looking at Jane with admiration.

"Let's get going," she said, having robbed all the enemies. "Which way now?"

"Follow me." Jacob turned to lead them, making Evie raise her eyebrows.

"Oh, look at you. Now you're a gentleman?"

Jacob turned to look right at his sister, then unfolded his arms as he pointed at himself.

"Evie, you don't appreciate me enough."

Jane laughed to herself, for the last time glancing at the bodies she and Jacob had left behind. She felt that despite of her break in fights, she didn't get worse... And her visit in London could be much more interesting than she had initially expected.

The three Assassins have been walking for no longer than a few yards when in another alley they bumped into a group of three children Evie seemed to know.

"These are the children we're helping," she explained, indicating them with her head. "We free them from factories in exchange for information. We should introduce you."

Jane looked as though someone had stunned her. Mentioning child labour seemed to have ignited some kind of a flame inside her, one you couldn't put off.

"This is absurd. Such a modern city, the main power of the world, and they force children to work?! And most of them must be orpahns who have no choice!" she yelled, clenching her fists. "Take me to these factories, Evie. I would love to take care of this."

"Let's introduce you to them so they know they can trust you. Hello, Clara." The last words were directed to a girl with two brown braids. To Jane, she didn't look older than eleven or twelve.

"Oh, sure, another stop," muttered Jacob, irritated, but the women didn't listen to him at all.

"Miss Frye." Clara turned to face her, presenting her green dress she had on. "And this is...?"

"Jane Carter. I am really happy to meet you," Jane replied immediately, giving Clara a grin.

"Clara O'Dea," said the girl.

"Jane will be helping you from now on as well..."

"Yes, with everything," Jane interjected before Evie could finish. "If you ever need anything, I promise I will try to get it for you. Tell me," she squatted to be on the same level as Clara and the boys next to her, "is there anything you need right now?"

"No, not yet. We all help each other. The most important thing is to free the children that work in the factories."

Jane bit her lip, extremely touched. In this little girl, she saw herself from years ago, when she had to suffer the hardships of being an orphan. She was saying to her what she had always wanted to hear, but what she had never received: support, peace and the knowledge that she had someone she could count on.

"You can always call me," she said, and a sincerely happy, grateful expression graced her face.

"Thank you."

Jane looked into the girl's eyes. She knew that look; this little girl craved any kind of affection.

"It'll be alright, I promise," she said quietly and then allowed herself to hug Clara just a little, to which she responded with great enthusiasm.

Evie was watching them with a smile on her face, while Jacob was about to say something about shedding a tear, however he eventually decided against it just this once. He remembered that he and Evie only had each other now, too, but they were twenty, and they could at least defend themselves...

"Adorable kids, of course..." said Jacob as he kept on walking. "I would be careful if I were you, Janie, because they like stealing all your money."

"Just because you let yourself get robbed that doesn't mean everyone's so carless." Evie rolled her eyes.

"Wait, Janie?" said Jane.

"My brother loves giving everyone stupid nicknames, including his own gang."

"I mean, I like it." Jane went past Evie to walk right next to Jacob. "Eye for an eye, though. You'll be Jackie," she added with a giggle, putting her hand on his shoulder.

Jacob came to a halt and looked at her in disbelief.

"You will not call me Jackie," he said in a voice that could kill.

"Or what, you'll try to strangle me again?" She laughed again, walking backwards right in front of him. That way, she could see Evie was just as amused.

"I've already liked you and hated you like four times so far." Jacob shook his head, causing her to giggle again. Jane really felt comfortable, even though she knew the Frye twins for no longer than an hour.

"Oh, then get used to it." Jane stopped to turn to Evie. "Which way now?"

"To the left," she replied and Jane smacked Jacob on his arm.

"Let's go, Jackie!" she yelled and then ran towards the left.

Jacob turned to look at his sister in complete disbelief.

"George sent her to punish us for our trip to London, I'm sure of it."

"Maybe you, brother," Evie said, following her new Assassin friend.

The three of them reached Alexander Graham Bell's workshop a few minutes later. It was a man around their age, with an interesting beard and, Jane guessed, Scottish accent. His greenish workshop was full of devices she was ogling even while greeting him.

"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Bell."

"Ah, why the formalities," he replied, smiling at her what she returned. It seemed she had caught his eye at first sight - she wanted to respond, but Jacob appeared between the two of them out of nowhere.

"Indeed, Aleck, let's cut the formalities, because we had been walking here long enough," he interrupted as Jane watched him in outrage. "We need one more rope launcher for her. Would you be able to make one?"

"Of course. It'll take just a moment, you can come for it tomorrow, or even in the evening," Bell replied eagerly.

"I knew you had it in you, Aleck."

Jane was already irritated by Jacob's interruption, so she decided to take the matters in her own hands.

"I apologise for him," Jane said loudly, pushing Jacob aside with one strong move to stand in front of Bell again. "Thank you in advance. Is there any way I can repay you?"

"Don't mention it," Alexander assured her, still smiling. "And I will have something special for you once you come back. I mean, for all three of you..." He corrected himself quickly.

"This workshop is just marvellous," the girl said, sincerely intrigued. "I would love to hear about all these inventions, I've never seen something like that before."

Bell seemed to be truly excited by her words.

"And I would love to tell you about them. If you have some time to spare, you can come any time you'd like."

"Talking like you talk to Greenie," Jacob muttered to Evie, having stepped back, while Alexander was still talking to Jane.

"It's called being nice, Jacob," Evie replied in an obvious tone.

"Am I not nice?" he asked innocently, then his smile faded. "Case closed, so are we going to fight or stay here for tea while Starrick's ruling the city?"

Evie sighed, but eventually turned to their new friend:

"Jane, we have to go."

She turned back to them, cutting off her lively conversation with the inventor.

"Ah, yes, sure." She nodded, then looked back at Bell. "I suppose we'll finish the conversation next time."

"Yes, I sure hope so," he replied with a grin.

Jane walked to the door as Jacob clapped his hands.

"Finally."

A few minutes - this was all the three Assassins and some of the Rooks needed to defeat a whole group of Blighters. A few of them stayed, however they gave up after the death of their leader. It was Jacob who killed her, and right after he did that, he jumped onto the carriage's roof to speak to the crowd.

"We are Jacob and Evie Frye!" he shouted just as his sister joined him. "And as of this moment you will work for us!"

After a moment, the crowd beagn screaming in approval, almost like it was ready for yet another fight. Jane, standing below them next to the carriage's door and watched in admiration how easily the two Assassins gained allies. You could see Jacob was not joking when talking about leading a gang.

"Come to us," Evie said, looking at Jane from above.

"What?" Jacob asked, but Jane was already climbing the carriage. Having found herself next to the twins, she watched the people surrounding them and still celebraring the victory.

"Nice view," she admitted, unable to stop grinning as adrenaline still rushed through her. "You know, maybe it's time to tie my hair again... This Octavia woman almost cut it off," she added, grabbing her ends which were splattered with blood.

"Now, don't know about you," Jacob jumped off the carriage. "But I'm going back to the train to celebrate."

"Evie... Would you take me to one of the factories where the children are working? I have something to take care of," Jane said quickly.

"Sure." Evie nodded.

"You two go and I'll have a moment with my pint!" Jacob shouted to them, causing both women to roll their eyes simultaneously.

Jane and Evie took over two factories that day, and both were too exhausted to visit Bell again - they decided to do it the first thing next morning. Walking back to the hideout, Evie told Jane all about her research on the Piece of Eden, and about everything else she and Jacob have already accomplished in London. Jane was fascinated by all she heard - and was eager to help with the Piece as well as killing Templars.

The next day the female Assassins went straight to Bell as planned and, to their surprise, Jacob tagged along. He just murmured something about having nothing to do and wondering what Aleck might have for them.

Jane, this time with a short braid, entered the workshop first, causing Alexander to jump as he had been working on something.

"Argh!" he yelled, then noticed already three of his guests. "Oh, Jane, Evie... And Jacob! It's you. Thank goodness."

"Experimenting are we, Aleck?" Evie asked.

"Correct."

"And looking a bit frazzled," Jacob added, walking up to him.

Alexander quickly explained that Starrick keeps on sending his men to coax him, and that he was not intending to take up their offer, despite Jacob's doubts.

"I've been working on something in case they get too insistent. But before I show you that... Jane, your rope launcher is ready," he turned to her, his expression softening immediately.

Jacob noticed that and groaned. He already knew what was going on.

"That is wonderful," she said happily. "I can't wait to try it."

Alexander picked something up from his desk, then approached Jane carefully.

"I- if you allow me..."

"Oh, yes," she agreed, letting him install the rope launcher into her glove. They exchanged small smiles as he was doing that, standing close to her.

"I can also install the mechanism for hallucinogenic darts," he began after he was done with the launcher. "It fits into your braces..."

"Yes, Evie mentioned them to me. It would be perfect if you could," Jane said and Aleck nodded happily.

"Of course, just a moment..."

"Oh, I can't listen to this," Jacob muttered.

"Jacob."

"They're even worse than you and Greenie, they barely know each other," he argued, so his sister stepped on his foot in revenge.

"Evie!" he shouted.

Jane and Alexander seemed to be oblivious to their bickering as they talked quietly while he worked on her glove.

"Now that is done..." He gave Jane one last smile.

"Thank you, Alexander."

"I can show you this." He picked up a small, bomb-shaped object to present to the three of them. "It's meant to stun an assailant, should the need arise."

"Are you certain that it works?" Evie asked curiously.

Bell explained that he wasn't sure which formula was the right one just as Starrick's thugs came to bother him yet again. This was the perfect opportunity to test out his new bombs.

"I would love to help as a thank you for this," Jane offered, indicating her glove.

"Of course you would," Jacob said as he couldn't stop himself before Bell could even open his mouth. Jane sighed.

"Just say you're too scared, Jackie, it's okay." She smacked him on his shoulder, than put on her hood and ran out of the workshop with the bombs in her hands.

"She is a nightmare," he hissed when Evie laughed at her brother again.

The three of them helped with checking the bombs, and then Jane joined Bell to protect him while he destroyed Starrick's transmitters. She came back to the train in good spirits and immediately began to tell Evie how they got rid of another source of Starrick's misinformation. Evie congratulated her at once.

"I suggested to Alexander that he should vacate his workshop, but he refused. He said he was braver now." She giggled. "He said we can drop by at any time. I'm so fascinated by all of his..."

"Oh, a hero."

Jacob appeared in the carriage out of nowhere and plopped onto the couch, then spread himself on it as if he was sunbathing.

Jane turned to him and just rolled her eyes at the sight.

"So what, Janie?" he asked, putting his arms under his head. "Got an engagement ring from Bell already?"

"What, are you jealous?" she snapped in response, crossing her arms. He didn't expect that, but recovered quickly nevertheless.

"Of what?"

"Oh, stop it, you two," Evie interjected.

"I'm just testing our new companion, Evie!" Jacob argued, then stood up to walk up yo her. "Can you even drink?" he asked her and she sighed heavily.

"I can, as a matter of fact."

"Prove it, then."

"Choose the pub, then."

"Happy to say the pubs in Whitechapel are already ours, so..."

"Oh, I'm going with you two." Evie stood beteen them. "We don't need more trouble."

[fire-or-clear]

"Rings on or off, baby?"

───※ ·❆· ※─── ───※ ·❆· ※─── ───※ ·❆· ※───

summary ~ riding with the winchesters isn't exactly a walk in the park, but you wouldn't give it up for anything, especially now that you've got john wrapped around your finger.

pairing ~ John Winchester x reader

warnings ~ significant age gap, very slight daddy kink, a bit suggestive, talk of weaponry and hunting

rating ~ T

this isn't much, just me trying to get back into writing using a prompt i saw a long time ago. it's been an age, and even when i wrote a whole lot more, i've only ever posted like two things on tumblr, so i really have no idea what i'm doing lol. please let me know what you think, and if the rating or warnings need to be changed(:

You take John’s hand as he helps you climb down from his truck, and you absently note the feeling of cold metal against your fingers. You hide a small smile at the reminder of this morning.

You and John wake up like you usually do, wrapped around each other. The sheets are bunched up at the foot of the bed, like normal. He always gets hot in the middle of the night, whereas you’re always cold, but having John’s overly warm body pressed against yours, head to toe, usually does the trick to keep you warm.

John presses a sleepy kiss to your lips, and the two of you get distracted for a few minutes, before John forces himself to climb out of bed with a groan. You chuckle and watch as he ambles into the bathroom to shower, and then you roll over and get comfortable in the warm spot he left behind. Perks of taking night showers, you get to sleep in while John wakes himself up with his morning showers.

You doze off, and you don’t know how long it’s been before you feel fingertips drag lightly down your spine. You hum sleepily and turn your head to face John. He’s crouched down beside the bed in just jeans, with a small smile on his face.

“Time to get up, baby.” He informs you. You pout and bury your face in the pillow. john chuckles and you hear him moving around, and you look up in time to see him tug a t shirt over his head. You watch as he pulls his usual jacket on, and you finally climb out of bed as he sits down on the edge to put on his boots. You walk over to your bag and pull on a pair of panties, and then you hunt around the room for your bra, which always disappears when John is the one to take it off of you. You find it draped over a chair, and you pull it on as well, and then you return to your bag and grab a pair of jeans. You tug them on, and then you grab the shirt John was wearing yesterday and tug that on as well. John smirks and pulls you down into his lap as you pass by. You wrap an arm around his neck and press a kiss to his jaw. He tangles his fingers in the shirt.

“You don’t have a clean one to wear?” He asks, and you roll your eyes.

“Of course I do. But why would I do that when I could wear your shirt and smell like you all day?” You drawl. John presses a kiss to your throat, and you shiver as his stubble scrapes your skin.

“Now why would you want that?” He wonders.

“Cause I love the way you smell. Your cologne, your favorite whiskey, wood smoke, and something that’s just.. You. Makes me feel safe. It also makes me want the real thing.” You murmur, before tugging him into a kiss. He wraps his arms around your waist, and you slide a hand up to tangle your fingers in his hair as he nips at your lower lip. You two get distracted, again, but this time you’re the one to pull away.

“Hmm, we got work to do. You gonna let me up?” You ask, looking down into his eyes. He smirks at you.

“You gonna ask nicely?” He retorts. You give him a shy little smile and lean in so your lips are brushing the edge of his ear.

“Please, Daddy.” You murmur sweetly. John groans and loosens his grip on your waist, and you climb off his lap. He smacks your ass when you turn to walk away, and you give a surprised yelp.

“You’re gonna pay for that, you just wait, sweetheart.” He drawls. You give him a wink as you sit down on the coffee table to tug on socks and your boots.

“Whaddaya think, rings or no rings today?” He asks, and you look up and see him turning one of them between his fingers. You finish lacing up you boots, and then walk over to where he’s standing. You grab your three favorite rings and slide them onto the correct fingers, pressing a kiss to each one.

“Rings. They look good on you, and I like the way they sound against your gun.” You answer. John chuckles and cups your cheek, tracing your lower lip with his thumb.

“Is that right? What makes you think I’ll be using a gun today?” He asks. You give him a little smirk.

“We’re in Texas, darlin’. You’re in my world now, and I’m telling you, you’ll find a use for that gun today, one way or another.” You answer, pressing a kiss to his thumb. He smiles and shakes his head.

“I’ll take your word for it. You wanna load the truck, or wake the boys?” He asks.

“I’ll take the boys, far be it from me to stop you from lifting heavy things where I can see.” You answer with a grin. John rolls his eyes.

“I’ll take you to the gym next time I go, then you can look all you want.” He retorts. You scoff.

“I like the gym, darlin, you’re the one who can’t be assed to set foot in one.” You remind him as you pull away and tug your jacket on.

“Why would I, I get enough of a workout while I hunt.” John grumbles. You laugh and shake your head.

“Whatever you say. I’ll see you in a minute.” You tell him. He gives you a quick kiss, and then you head next door. You have a key, so you give the door a warning knock, and then you unlock it and step into the room Sam and Dean are sharing. You hear the shower running, and note that Sam must be awake. Dean, however, is still in bed, buried beneath a mountain of blankets. You head over and sit on the edge, pulling the blankets back a little and then pressing your ice cold fingertips to Dean’s bare back. He flinches and groans into his pillow.

“‘Go ‘way.” He mumbles. You laugh.

“Not gonna happen. Cmon, John is loading the truck and Sam is in the shower. We’re waiting on you, pretty boy.” You hum. Dean turns his head towards you with a sleepy glare.

“Not a pretty boy. Sam’s the pretty one.” He huffs. You press your lips together to keep from laughing.

“Sure darlin. Now get up, or I’m telling Sam that you said he can drive the impala today.” You reply. Dean’s glare intensifies, and then he sits up with a groan. The blankets pool at his waist, and he quickly grabs them and yanks them up to his neck.

“Why is it so cold in here?” He asks. You shrug.

“No idea. Did you mess with the thermostat last night?” You ask. Dean shakes his head.

“Sammy, did you turn down the temperature last night?” Dean says, and you turn and see Sam exit the bathroom. Thankfully he’s already dressed, otherwise he’d be blushing right now. You, Dean and John don’t give a shit how dressed or undressed you are around each other, Dean cause he’s just laidback that way, John because these are his sons and you're his lover, and yourself because you were in the army and it’s just skin. That’s not to say you'd like to be completely naked in front of your lovers sons, but if you're just wearing a towel, or if they catch you in a sports bra and spandex, you don’t really give a shit.

“No, I think it’s broken. I tried to adjust it before I showered, but it didn’t work.” Sam answers, rubbing through his hair with a towel. Dean starts cursing, and continues to curse as he jumps out of bed and stumbles over to his bag, yanking on clothes as quick as he can. You chuckle and turn to Sam.

“The impala already packed?” You ask. Sam nods.

“Yeah, I threw our bags in there before my shower. You and dad all set?” He asks, and you're silently thankful that it’s not weird for him to say that anymore. You get it though, you knew Sam and Dean before you knew John, and then there’s the fact that you and Sam are the same age and Dean is only 4 years older than you, and here you are, sleeping with their dad. So you get how it’s a little weird.

“Should be, he’s packing the truck now.” You answer. Sam nods and sits down to put on his shoes, and Dean does as well.

“Let us know when you’re ready to hit the road.” You tell them before you step outside the motel room. You pull your pack of cigarettes from your jacket pocket and slide one out, along with the lighter in your jeans pocket. You light up and take a long drag, and lean against the wall. You turn and watch as John checks his weapons cache in the truck. Then you walk over and open the passenger door, and climb up and reach behind the bench seat. You grab your holsters and start strapping them on. You shrug off your jacket so you can pull on your shoulder holster that holds four daggers, and then pull your jacket on over it. Next, you tug your pant leg up and tuck two knives each into the compartments on the insides of your boots. You strap a hunting knife to your hip, and then climb down and walk around the truck to stand beside John. You flick the ash off the end of your cigarette, and watch as John straps on his preferred assortment of weapons, including, you note with a grin, his gun, hidden beneath his shirt and jacket at the small of his back. He catches you grinning, and he scoffs. He reaches out and pulls you close.

“It’s just in case.” He says. You nod.

“I know. You’ll need it.” You tell him matter of factly. He rolls his eyes and plucks the cigarette from your lips. And proceeds to take a puff and then drops the cigarette and stubs it out with his boot. You pout up at him.

“That wasn’t very nice.” You complain. He chuckles.

“Those aren’t very good for you.” He retorts, exhaling the smoke. You scoff.

“Well I know they aren’t very good for me, but darlin’, I’m not very good for me.” You reply. He chuckles and leans in close.

“No, but you leave that to me. I ever been bad to you?” He drawls. You bite your lip and tilt your head.

“Only when I ask for it.” You murmur. He chuckles lowly.

“What can I say. Sometimes you deserve it.” He tells you, lips brushing against your temple. You flush and bury your face in his chest, and he wraps his arms tight around you.

“Look at you, going all shy on me. Gonna have to get a room away from the boys tonight. I’m gonna make you scream.” He informs you. You glance up at him and see how dark his eyes are, and lick your lips.

“You promise?” You ask innocently.

“Yeah baby. I promise.” He rumbles, sliding a hand beneath your shirt and running it up and down your spine. You shiver as the cold metal of his rings grazes your skin.

“You alright?” You hear, and you look up and see that Sam and Dean are standing with you and John next to the truck. John and Sam are looking over something on the hood of the truck, and Dean is right beside you. You smile and nod at him.

“I’m fine. Just a little scatterbrained is all.” You tell him. He nods.

"You ready to show us how to hunt, the Texas way?" He asks. You chuckle.

"Sure, D. But are you ready, is the real question." You retort. He scoffs.

"How hard could it be." He grumbles, and you laugh and get ready for another day with your boys.

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

Number Two (Sebastian Stan x Reader)

MASTERLIST

Characters: Sebastian Stan x Female!Reader (AU)

Summary: Reader hopes and dreams to be the first choice, but she ended up being an option.

Warning: Angsty, cussing, INFIDELITY, sugar daddy kinda relationship? I mean, well. You'll understand it soon after reading this. Italics meant a flashback in the end alright? I shall give you guys some angst yooooo!! Y/N means your name. 

Words: 2,386

A/N: I’m posting the ones I haven’t posted yet from Wattpad as I take my break. Might be taking one more week of break too. Hehehehe. 

REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE IT A LIKE, IF YOU’VE LIKED THIS SHORT ONESHOT! THANK YOU!

Disclaimer: PNG’s used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too.

MY WORKS ARE NOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

Kisses, feather like kisses were peppered on the back of your neck. His warmth enveloping around you, those comforting arms stuck on your waist, making you feel jello on the knees, soon enough to buckle and be weak for him.

"Draga," Sebastian lowly spoke ever so sweetly, still peppering you with kisses as he stood behind you, watching your skillful hands do the job in making dinner. His presence was making you weak, too weak for your own good. You hummed a reply, your complete focus wholly on the vegetables you were chopping. Sebastian's thumbs were slowly caressing your waist, his lips hidden behind the front of his teeth as he was anxiously trying to think how to word everything out better.

Better words that would not leave your heart in misery and in pain.

"I...I--Well," He stuttered, his heart skipping a beat. The image of you in his huge polo was making him want to stay, it was making it worth enough for another pathetic lie to be said for the latter. You were perfect in his eyes, despite of the stomach flabs, your height and especially your big, wonderful heart.

Y/N was the epitome of every man's dream, her attitude and personality was making him stay. Yet, why didn't he pick you in the first place?

"You're going?" You calmly uttered, your knife stopping halfway from cutting a tomato, a painful smile lifting the ends of your lips, wanting nothing more than to frown and show him how he was hurting you, crushing your big, innocent heart.

He hesitatingly nodded, his lips in a tight thin line. Sebastian wanted nothing more than to stay, he wanted to cherish this sweet, mirthful moment with you. But, why didn't he? Why did he still chose her?

"Yeah. She texted---told me we had reservations at eight in which I totally forgot about, she even said I asked for it the other night but it slipped out of my mind," He forgot, you thought. Even though you didn't want to cheer and be happy that you were making him forget her, you still did. Your heart clapped from the mistake he did.

Yet, why did it still hurt?

"Well," You sighed, spinning around to see Sebastian pouting, his mind currently in a conflicted battle. "---you better get going, Love."

Love. It was the truth. You already love him with all your heart, and the more this..relationship of your continues, the more it becomes difficult to let go. Not that you plan on doing that soon.

"You sure you're not mad?" He stared into your eyes, it was technically the window to everybody's soul and from his perspective..All he saw was your positive, loving self. Never seeing the wounds hidden behind those E/C eyes of yours. Nonetheless, it was hurting him to leave you either.

"No, I'm not." Lies. It was all lies because all you ever felt in that exact moment was pain. All you wanted to do was lock himself up in your apartment, wanting to scream at him as you hoped to be his choice, and not his option. "---you need to go," You fidgeted with the collars of his polo, eyes trained on his Steele blue eyes that you so wanted not to forget before it vanish soon, the other woman having the bigger privilege to stare at his gorgeous blue eyes all night.

The truth was making your heart itch in vain.

"But, I'm keeping this polo of yours. It's comfy," You joked, forcing yourself to smile. His pout turned into a chuckle, that's right. That's what you wanted his last image to be, his beautiful laugh. "You're seriously going to make me come out shirtless?"

"Oh come on, you have tons of shirts inside my closet. You can seriously have a sleepover and not be worried about having no clothes to wear the next day," All you could ever do was dream that he could sleep beside you all night, keep him tuck beside you with your love. However, he never did. A few times, sure. But, he always went back to her. He always comes back home.

And your only wish in your life was to finally be his home, where he could come home to you and only you.

All Sebastian could ever do was chuckle. It was a phrase that he could never answer back, he wanted to have that moment with you too. But, the knot he had with her was making everything impossible.

"Try not to finish everything for me, I'm coming over again tomorrow," He smiled, the painful happiness reaching his eyes. Sebastian leaned down to give you a deep kiss, he so wanted more than just a kiss, but his phone kept vibrating inside his pockets and it was frustrating him.

The softness of your lips made him kiss you another, trapping that softness in between his teeth, softly tugging the flesh as he rested his forehead on yours, sharing exasperated breaths with you. After that breathtaking kiss, you were a goner. Definitely making your knees buckle behind you but you toughly stood on your ground.

"I love you," Sebastian voiced out completely breathless, like he was scared that somebody else would hear. Though the meaning behind those words made everything worth the sins. It made everything better. "I love you more," and it was the truth. You loved him more than he ever could do.

Sebastian left the apartment, not forgetting to give you another kiss before he went out and about. Back to where he was supposed to be. You bit your lip in sadness, your eyes turning hot and cloudy, tears threatening to fall as you stared at the ceiling, trying your hardest not to but everything you see was reminding you of him.

Your apartment, your clothes, your credit card, and basically everything. It was all from him, he bought everything for you, just for you to be his.

Even though, he wasn't rightfully yours to call.

"Fuck," You whined out, on the verge of tears as you held the curves of your waist. You held your nose bridge, trying to stop the tears from falling because you didn't want to cry. All you ever wanted was to embrace the positiveness, yet as you remember the previous rendezvous, the reality was making you down in the dumps. "---G-Guess I have to eat by myself then," You stuttered, taking small, grudging steps towards your refrigerator.

The freezer slapped open, taking out the beef you saw something shiny in the middle of the cave like, cold ice. Your fingers delicately touching the shiny jewelry sitting in the middle of your freezer, digging it out of the cold compartment. Your fingertips painfully feeling how cold the jewelry was.

He probably wanted the time to stop, even wanted her feelings for him to turn cold so that was why he chucked it in the freezer. What a dork, you thought out loud mindlessly. Shaking your head, you examined the jewelry resting in the middle of your palm and wanted nothing but to throw it away. 

Sebastian's wedding ring.

Despite of how he was trying to keep it away from him. It still hurt to see it up close and on the palm of your hand. Why? Because in the words of the country's law.

You were still number two, and will never be his lawful woman.

"Welcome to Starbucks, what will be your order for today, Ma'am?" You energetically welcomed the new customer standing in front of you. She was a beautiful woman, perfect even. Her features were proportional and sharp, blonde hair wavy looking like she just had curled it with a curling iron five minutes ago. The woman had a physique of a sexy model, curvy and busty.

She was the entire opposite of you. Certainly even older than you.

"One Cinnamon Dolcè Lattè," She spoke with a raspy, sexy thread of her voice. It was probably her tone of voice, God had gifted her with a tone of voice like Scarlett Johansson. You nodded with a friendly smile, tapping her order up on the monitor screen laying in front. "Will that may be all, ma'am?"

"Oh, and a Caffè Americano," The beautiful woman added. You punched her orders and remained eye contact with her. "Anything else?" She clucked her tongue, taking a glance at the menu above her. You tapped your foot in habit as you wait for more orders to come.

"One Gluten free breakfast sandwich," She nonchalantly answered. When you thought she would order more, she began whipping her pretty head around, appearing to find a friend.

The woman's emotionless face lit up when she got a glance of the man she was waiting for. Her demeanor changed and especially her voice which turned higher and jolly. "Babe!" She called her boyfriend jogging towards to where she was. Your eyes went straight to the man's shoes. Grey Nike running shoes, black jogger shorts and a grey shirt, his white beats clung around his neck. You knew that style of outfit whenever he goes for a run, you knew those thighs...

Your breath became labored, palms began to sweat and your throat turned dry when you saw a very familiar face that was slowly coming closer. He certainly didn't felt your presence as he haven't got a glimpse of your dumbfounded face.

Sebastian laid his gorgeous Steele blue eyes on her, those eyes that have been staring at you lovingly the other night. Now, those orbs were fixated on a woman who he tied the knot with. A woman who was the first choice and not an option. "You want something?" The woman batted her eyelashes up at him and you wanted nothing more than to run off and escape from the nightmare happening in front of you. Yet, you couldn't because your feet stood cold and unmoving on the ground. Your eyebrows were furrowed as your eyes were trained on the sweaty, precious man that you love.

"Nah, I'm good. Thanks," He nonchalantly muttered, eyes still on her and you wanted him to look into your eyes instead. Just like how he does. The woman snapped her head in your direction, skimmed her eyes from your face towards your name tag. Her whole demeanor turned smug, a coy smile tugging her lips in a tight smirk. "That may be all.." She paused, reading your name before you saw a mischievous glint behind those eyes. "---Y/N,"

With just one mention of your name, it had Sebastian's eyes concentrated on you. His mouth forming a tight, thin line from the realization that you were right in front of him, from them, from his wife. His broad shoulders fell and became slacked when his eyes connected with yours. Everything came crashing down.

It's definitely a small world after all. Destiny was giving you the agonizing pleasure to see the lawfully wedded wife face to face, making your make-believe world  disappear in just a snap.

Your eyes turned hot and your heart felt like Thanos was gripping your heart with his gauntlet. You knew Sebastian felt and saw the vulnerability you just launched. The world turned hazy and steady around you, even the noise buzzing around the coffee shop was slowly fading away, your focus only on the couple in front of you.

So, it was her. His wife still smiled so innocently, looking naive yet those smiles of hers..Hatred came with it, being the first emotion you see behind her eyes when she brought her walls down.  

She knew.

"I’ve always wanted to be a Stan," You muttered beneath your breath as Sebastian hovered above you, his lips lightly ghosting on top of yours. His medium length hair cascaded around his beautiful face, caving in his gifted features as he looked damn breathtaking. Sebastian lightly pecked your lips, your hands shamelessly caressing his protruding bare firm chest, trailing down his fit torso.

He avoided looking into your eyes, staring at your lips instead. He knew how your eyes were sparkling in aspiration and it was hurting him to answer the truth.

"You know that'll just complicate things, right?" He gave out a forced smile.

"I know, Seb. I was just kidding,"

You only gave a smile back as you trapped him in a heated kiss, dissipating the ache surrounding your sinful soul. Creating an unrestrained relationship with a married man was completely obnoxious, never have you imagined doing this all your life.

But, you loved him. You love him a little too much and it was too late to stop now because you would rather be the person he runs to and not the person he comes home to. You'd rather be labeled as an option than be labeled as nothing.

Only you can dream about being a Stan and you never know when you'll get tired of wishing when it'll come true...

Taglist for every Sebastian thing I write (LMAO): @silverkitten547​ @crazybutconfidentaf​

[inki-cap]

Jimson Weed

So, after delving into the world of Assassin’s Creed, in particular Assassin’s Creed: Valhalla, and getting to know quite a bit about a friend’s AC OC, I’ve decided to make a sorta variant of an OC of mine and basically adjust them into the AC Universe. 

After a lot of convos between them, I’ve written quite a lot of works between my OC, their OC and a certain character. I’m still learning quite a lot and am in absolute love with all of this, so don’t pay too much mind to this. Also note that I am in no way a master writer or anything great, just here to have some fun. 

Enjoy!

OC-Anna Kastello belongs to @pxiedustnblades

OC-Mari belongs to me

Featuring Basim Ibn Ishaq

_____________________________________________________________

Hammersmith, London, UK. 

1:01 a.m. 

Sturgeon Moon

The night is calm, serene. A typical late evening. 

Sounds of footsteps along the stones alongside the River Thames, soft chattering among those out and about. Young adults coming out of the restaurants all around, laughing and enjoying the night in the town, with bellies full of food and ale. Some stumble about, some walk slowly. But they all fit within the scenery of Hammersmith and its bustling yet quiet streets. 

That is all but one. 

A long drag of a cigarette, and then a long exhale. They overlook the murky waters of the River Thames, a soft chuckle to themselves. 

“We didn’t exactly come here to just stare at this shit river, now did we?” 

With a quick flick of the wrist, the burning cigarette flies into the waters below. 

Walking through the streets, this mysterious figure comes to view in the lights, though no one pays any special attention to them. They hold themselves in a relaxed manner, hands in the pockets of their black bomber jacket and a slight smirk on their face. Their short black hair moves slightly to the late night wind, almost guiding them to continue onto their destination.

A short distance later, and they’ve arrived. Across the street, there is a beige colored brick building, and in front is a small bookshop. A mahogany wood door, and to the side wide glass windows, showing the warm inside of the shop, filled to the brim with all sorts of books. From where this figure is standing, they could even read some of the titles from the windows. 

Great Expectations. 

Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind. 

The History of the Ancient World

All The Light We Cannot See

But they can also spot a red glare from both within and outside the shop. Cameras.

“Of fucking course. But cameras never stopped anyone, now do they?” 

They quickly pull out a small sleek device, shaped like a smartphone. Quick on their feet, they walk across the street and stay just outside the camera's view, watching them move their full rotations. Just as both cameras move to the other side of the shop, they switch the device on. It gave a quick high-pitched whine, and then fell silent, a green light on its side was now blinking. As they looked up at the cameras again, they stopped moving. 

“Fifteen minutes. Let’s make it quick, huh?” 

Setting the device down along the glass windows, the figure now moved to the mahogany door, pulling out a silver lock pick, and within seconds...

Click. Click.

The door slowly swings open, the figure making special care so it doesn’t hit the shelves or ring the bell above. Despite the lights being off, it still gave a homey vibe. Shelves filled with books on either side of the shop, each labelled with its appropriate genre and in alphabetical order according to author. Cozy plush chairs alongside the shelves. Persian rugs lining along the shelves and under the tables. Small tables set in the center, some designated tables for customers to sit down and read; others set with books and lists of recommendations for any customers who aren’t sure what they want. In the back, there are a set of stairs that lead to the upper level of the shop, another level filled with more books. If the figure came here during the day, this would definitely be a space where one would get a hot drink and pick out a book, just simply relaxing and taking in the warm and soft atmosphere. But what they’re looking for isn’t something exactly available to the general public. 

They stealthily climb up the stairs, stepping on the tips of their toes, making as little noise as possible. Reaching the upper level, there are more chairs and tables along the bookshelves. The genres labeled on the shelves are about as common as one could expect. 

Graphic Novels. 

Fantasy. 

Horror. 

Science Fiction. 

Young Adult Fiction. 

Why would this figure go through all the trouble of breaking in only to see these all too common genres? 

But as they are quickly skimming through each book title in each genre, one clearly stands out and doesn’t fit in with the others labelled on the shelves. 

Nordic Landscapes.

“Now why would a puto nature book be in the fiction section of this place?” 

It was subtle enough, but it took a keen eye to see that it didn’t fit with all the rest. They pull out the book, quickly flipping through the pages, each filled with beautiful photographs of the Nordic environment. Tall dark mountains. Wide fields of green. Vast amounts of forest, lined with cold snow. But nothing special came of the pages. Just pretty pictures. They put the book down, taking a deep breath. 

“Puta mierda….there’s a reason why you’re here and not the rest of your friends. I passed the nature books coming in here. What are you hiding?....”

They look at its cover, the spine. There was nothing particular about it, but then they look at where they pulled it from. From the shelf it was on, in the far back, there was something there. A hidden compartment. They quickly put their hand on the back of the shelf, pressing whatever hidden indentations or switches they can. And then…

Click.

The back of the shelf opened up, the hidden compartment small and pitch black. All they could do is pull their arm into the small space and feel around. Their fingers wrap around something small….cold…..metal. But just as they get a hold of whatever it was…

WHOOSH!

They quickly pull their arm out of the compartment and dodge whatever was thrown at them. They look to their right and see it. A knife, deeply embedded into a copy of Twilight just where their head was. 

“Mierda-”

They quickly looked in front of them, and there was the owner of the knife. A tall man with a beard and his dark hair tied back into a bun, wearing a godawful wolf shirt that looked as though he got it straight out of a dumpster and a grey zip-up sweatshirt. His expression read calm, but there was something in those dark eyes of his. Nonetheless, a knife wouldn’t be enough to faze the intruder. 

“Oh sorry. Ya want your knife back, cabron?”, the figure playfully remarked. 

Again, nothing from the man. 

They look at the man, with the same curiosity that a cat has with another animal. As they slowly stood up straight, the man watched them carefully, reading their moves.

“Ok, listen here, pendejo. I’m kinda in a bit of a hurry, so would you be so kind as to just let me outta here? We really don’t have to make a huge thing out of this-” 

Before the intruder could finish their sentence, the man threw another knife at near light speed at them again. But this time they didn’t bother to try to dodge the knife, but at the same speed as the man threw the knife, they twisted their body slightly and caught it within a hair’s inch to their eye. Although it didn’t show, the man was somewhat impressed by this, but still remained stone-faced. 

“Oh, ok I see. Well just know, I’m not gonna make it easy for ya, lobo” , the figure mocked, taking a stance, pointing the knife the man threw at them at him, with a wide grin on their face. 

…….

He wasn’t sure how this person got in, but the fact that they were specifically looking in there was enough to confront them. Basim had been resting just five minutes earlier, but apparently Alethia felt that something was amiss in the shop. Although Anna had said that it could be an animal just hanging around the front cameras for too long, he decided to go down and check himself. Seems that Alethia was correct in suspecting something. 

Despite the darkness of the shop, the light of the Sturgeon full moon, he was able to see the intruder’s face. They appeared to be a young woman with deep tan skin and short black hair. She was dressed in a black bomber jacket and a light beige tank top, with olive pants. Her arm was in the hidden compartment, too close to getting what was in the space. Just as quickly he had gotten there, he quickly threw a knife to where her head was. But just as quickly as he threw it, the woman just as quickly dodged it and it dug deep into a book that looked like a tacky young lovers novel. 

Damn, Anna won’t be pleased, Basim thought to himself seeing that knife in the spine of the book. 

But he quickly shook the thought off, as he made eye contact with the young woman. She didn’t appear frightened by either the knife or his presence. But rather seemed to enjoy the situation. 

She made a couple of taunts at him, not that they were really something intimidating to begin with. As she made a terrible excuse for a negotiation, Basim decided to quickly end his misery and threw another knife, hoping this one would make its mark. But to his surprise, not only did the woman not dodge it, but she caught it. 

As she caught the knife, she looked at him with a wide grin on her face, almost ready to pounce at him. 

“Oh, ok I see. Well just know, I’m not gonna make it easy for ya, lobo.” 

Just as she finishes her sentence, not even looking behind her, the woman reaches for the knife that was embedded into the book and throws it at him full force. It was surprising, but nothing he wasn’t prepared for. 

At least I’ll be getting that knife back, he thought as he quickly dodged the knife-lodged book and moved to pull it out. As he managed to dig the knife out of the book’s spine, the woman was now trying to escape the shop, jumping from the upper level to the lower floor. 

With that, he gave chase. 

…..

Just fucking great. Now I gotta deal with this Walmart Jacob Black person? 

The intruder was now trying to get out of the shop, with the man now right behind them. Just as they were within a couple of feet of the front door, a chair was thrown, blocking their way to the door. They quickly look behind to see the man again. 

Ohhh...I get it. Well be careful what you wish for, Discount Ardeth Bay.

...

They slowly move about, looking at the man, reading his movements and the environment around them. Neither of them are willing to let the other out of their sight. The intruder quickly closes the space between them, baring the knife that had been thrown at them earlier. The man quickly side steps  out of the way, jumping over a nearby table.

By the time the intruder was able to run over to where the man leapt over the table, he was nowhere to be found. They quickly looked around, to the left, right. He seemed to have disappeared out of thin air, but just as quickly as the man had gone, they heard a slight creak from above. He leapt on them, an attempt to quickly immobilize them to the ground. They just as quickly flipped onto the table, and in a swift movement, kicked the table up and into the man. Once again, just as quickly as he appeared, he was gone. But the intruder was able to retrace where he had been, and anticipated when he would strike next. 

They kept their eyes peeled, only the gaze of the moon outside bringing its light into the shop. As they shift their weight, slowly observing around them, they hear it. The man was quietly sneaking behind them, knife in hand. Just as he was going to pounce, knife to their throat, they spun and dropped, bringing with them the full force of their fist to his chest. He saw in that second he wouldn’t be able to escape it and prepared himself to take the blow. Once their fist had landed its target, it knocked him off his feet for a few seconds. 

OOMPH

As he regained his composure, he quickly saw that the intruder wasn’t going to let up on him and continue her attack on him, throwing both fists at him. He quickly dodged each one, once again brandishing his knife and making quick strikes at them, with them being just as quick to dodging each swipe of the knife as well. Basim knew he needed to get some distance between them, as any more hits from the intruder could lead to his downfall. He swiftly pushes them away from him, opening the distance between them. But just as he does, the intruder does something surprising: They actually take some of the furniture and start throwing it at him. From the chairs to the books. 

Well, if that’s how they want to play… He thought to himself, quickly dodging each object thrown at him, while also taking some objects as well and throwing it at them as well. 

Just as he throws a rather thick book at them, the intruder moves swiftly and again closes the distance between them again. This time, not only baring their fists, but also some powerful kicks. A rapid roundhouse to his right side brings him to his knees, a very strong kick. While he gets his bearings together, they continue to throw punch after punch and kick after kick at him. Basim was able to move out of the way for some of the blows, the ones that landed on him slowed him immensely. But he also noted that they were also growing tired from the brigade of attacks that they were throwing at him. This was his chance. As they twisted their body, and prepared to throw another blow his way, he feigned defeat. And just as they again met their fist with his torso, they were met with a knife to their throat. A smirk grew on his face as he saw the irritation on the intruders. 

“Looks like I won.” He declared, keeping a firm grip on the knife. 

But just as quickly as he stated that, he felt the all familiar poke to his side. The other knife he threw at them earlier. He had gotten it back. Somehow, they must’ve swiped it from him during their close encounters. 

Damn.

His smirk faded, and one formed on their face as well. 

“Maybe you should check yourself before making any bold statements, pendejo.” They said, digging the knife into his side, just mere inches from being plunged into him. 

Neither willing to let up on their grips. It was a stand still, with only the moonlight from outside shining on the both of them. Then suddenly, the light in the shop switched on. 

“What is going on here?!”

A woman’s voice echoed out from the top of the second level of the shop. Both Basim and the intruder looked over, still with a tight grip on their knives to each other, to where the voice came from. There, on the top of the stairs, a woman with short brown hair stood. She had on a light brown blouse, with a medium length mocha skirt and a pair of black ankle boots. Her round glasses almost encased her vivid green eyes, both of which looked down at the both of them with disapproval. The intruder looked at her with a rather curious fascination. 

“Oh? Well, hello there~” The intruder said, with a flirtatious tone to their voice. 

Before Basim could react, they delivered a powerful knee right to his crotch. One that immediately brought him to the ground, dropping his knife in the process. They slowly walked over to the railing of the stairs, pocketing the knife that was just at Basim’s side, taking in the woman up on the upper level. She, on the other hand, was quite taken aback by what was going on. 

“No one told me that someone as fetching as you would be here. Vaya, señorita. And who might you be?~” They said, leaning back on the railing. 

The woman, although quite shocked at the scene unfolding in front of her, decided to respond. 

“My name is Anna Kastello...and this is my bookshop. And that man that you so rudely kneed behind you is Basim.” She said, motioning to the man who was lying on the floor, trying to recover from the vigorous blow earlier. 

The intruder looked behind at him, shrugged and looked back up at Anna. 

“Well, my deepest apologies, Miss Anna. As for him, he’ll be fine...just needs to ice that area for the next 48 hours. And since you’ve given me the pleasure of your name, allow me to introduce myself. I’m Mari.” 

Anna looked down at them, still quite taken from how this night was going. And how forthcoming the intruder- Mari- was being. Given how late it was, and the mess in her shop, Anna decided that she was going to humor them, and get to the bottom of why they broke in to begin with. 

“Please explain to me...why is it that you’re here...Mari?” 

“Oh? Well allow to say, as much as I’m enticed by you, querida, I’m not stupid. I’m quite aware of what exactly this shop stands for...and I believe you do as well. This...malparido behind me is living evidence of what actually goes on here.” Mari uttered, motioning to Basim in the back, who was now slowly getting up and using the fallen table aside to hold him up. A playful expression on their face. 

Anna was shocked to hear that this random individual knew of what went on in the shop, and even knew what role Basim played into it. She couldn’t deny it, but as much as she was afraid, she was also calm. If this Mari person here was truly an enemy of theirs and wanted to harm them, they would’ve gone to Abstergo or worse and brought the full force of the corporation down on the shop. But they didn’t. Although they did give Basim quite a beating, seeing their face and how they’ve taken in the situation, Anna suspected that they weren’t there on behalf of anyone. She was going to find out. 

“I won’t deny what we’re doing here. It is what you’ve said. But judging from your expressions, despite the absolute mess you’ve both made here, I believe that you’re not here to do anyone’s bidding. But rather, there’s something you want to know. And I want to know what that is. That is...on one condition…” Anna stated, making her stance firm and clear. 

Mari, tilting their head in curiosity, was entranced by what Anna was saying, and willing to go along with what she was saying. 

“And that may be, querida?” 

“...Pick up this mess...I have to open up in several hours and I’d rather not close up just to clean up.” She said, slowly turning around and walking to the back of the shop. 

Mari couldn’t have been more thrilled. 

“With pleasure!” 

Anna, as she walked to the back, rubbed her temples slightly. This was going to be a long night.

...to be continued...

[snowdice]

Road Trips and Missing Persons (Part 3)

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Patton & Virgil, Virgil & Deceit, Logan & Patton (more to be added)

Characters: Patton, Virgil, Deceit, Remus, Roman Logan (more to be added)

Summary: Patton was just getting groceries. The next thing he knew, there was a knife at his throat and he was an unwilling uber driver. Virgil’s on the run after the murder of his dad, and it’s not just his paranoia that’s telling him he’s being chased down. He has to get somewhere safe, somewhere he can trust, and all he has is a couple of stories from his dad and a name: “Green Bellow Foods and Dispensary.”

Notes: Secret Agents AU, knives, carjacking, kidnapping, murder mentioned, guns mentioned, pepper spray, blood mentioned, drugs mentioned (more to be added)

This is a fic I’ve been writing on study breaks that you have probably all already seen at this point. I’ve affectionately named it the Goblin Brain Fic because it’s helping my brain actually get motivated for studying. I’ve slightly edited it for wording and grammar, but not for content from my previous posts. Feel free to send in asks to direct it because I’m not 100% sure where this is going and you can help decide if you feel so inclined! You can see the process I went through to build this at this link.

Part 1 Part 2

The man Virgil had carjacked, Patton he had said, hummed a soft tune as he pulled back onto the interstate. Virgil glanced down at the ice cream in his hands and took a second bite. Was he…was he actually serious about all of this?

Virgil was suspicious, but the guy had been nothing but surprisingly nice for someone who’d been kidnapped. The nicer he was, the worse Virgil felt about the whole, breaking into his car and threatening him at knife point thing. Maybe that was the point? Maybe he was hoping Virgil would feel bad enough to eventually just tell him drive to the police station so he could turn himself in.

Not likely.

It didn’t matter how nice the dude was to him, he was not going anywhere his mother might be able to find him. Nope. Not happening. Not after what happened earlier in the day. He’s just lucky he’d been snooping in his dad’s room trying to find where the man had hidden the Gameboy and found whatever radio thing dad had hidden beneath a floorboard under his bed.

Well. “Lucky” was perhaps not the right word, he thought as he stuffed an even larger spoonful of ice cream into his mouth while trying to force himself not to cry. Nothing was lucky about today.

He didn’t know why dad had the radio thing. (He was pretty sure at this point that he didn’t know a lot of things.) All he knew was that it was some type of communication device and his mother’s voice would have been undeniably clear on it even if people hadn’t been calling her by name. He hadn’t known what on Earth was going on. All he knew was that he’d backed away from it in horror and confusion when the message that Remington Gates was dead came through. Mom had said “good.” He’d hoped it had been some kind of trick, but when some guy had broken into the house to take him to his mother not even 10 minutes later, he’d pieced together the truth.

His dad was dead. His mom had killed him. And whatever her plans were for Virgil, Virgil didn’t want any part of it. Luckily, when he was 12, he’d watched a horror movie and hadn’t slept for a week. His dad had solved the problem by showing him how to use pepper spray effectively and then letting him keep a can of it in his nightstand in case anyone ever broke in to try to kidnap him. Virgil was… pretty sure dad hadn’t ever thought someone would break in and try to kidnap him.

He’d pepper sprayed the guy mom had sent and grabbed a knife from the kitchen before booking it out the back door.

The options had been the park, the grocery store, or try to make it to the nearest bus stop and hope a bus arrived soon. In a bid to be unpredictable, he’d gone to the grocery store. Of course, he’d needed to get out of the neighborhood and fast, but he knew a bus or any form of public transport would be easily trackable. The only solution was a car, but the problems with that were that Virgil didn’t have a car, he didn’t know how to hotwire a car, and his only experience driving had been when his older brother allowed him to drive a golf cart when he was 7 and he drove it into a pond.

Which had led him here, in a stranger’s car after waiting for him to come out of the store in the backseat and pressing a kitchen knife up against his neck. It had been… a day.

He finished the entire giant “concrete” ice cream thing Patton had got him and stuck it in the bag with the rest of the trash.

“Want to listen to the radio?” Patton asked. “Passenger gets to choose the station!”

“Er… sure.” Virgil reached forward to flip it on. They were far enough out of range that whatever station Patton had last listened to in town was now just static, so Virgil started to mess with the dials.

There didn’t seem to be any music channels that adhered to his tastes, so he just ended up on some pop station. He was just settling back into his seat when Patton’s phone started to ring from where he’d tossed it when he’d gotten into the car at the grocery store.

Virgil blinked at the phone. “Is that the Mission Impossible theme song?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Why does it sound like that?”

“It’s the kazoo version,” Patton explained.

“…Why?”

Patton just smiled. “I should probably answer it.”

“No!” Virgil said. “You’re not allowed to answer it.”

Patton shrugged. The music stopped after a few more seconds and then started up right after that.

“It’s my brother. He’s going to keep calling,” Patton informed him, “and if I don’t answer, he’s going to call the cops because he assumed, I was kidnapped. Which… in this case.”

“Shit,” Virgil said as the ringing stopped again only to pick up once more a moment later. “Shit. Fine. You can answer it, but I’m putting it on speaker and don’t try to tell him anything.”

“Yeah, alright,” Patton agreed easily.

Oh god, this was a bad idea. Virgil grabbed the phone and accepted the call before putting it on speaker.

“Hi, Lo.”

“Why aren’t you answering your home phone?”

“I’m not at home,” Patton said.

“Where are you?”

Patton considered it for a moment. “I’m… on a road trip.”

“A road trip?” the man on the other end of the line asked blankly. “What do you… what do you mean?”

“I mean, I got in my car and now I’m driving.”

“You were supposed to be home all week. Patton, I need you to be in the city right now. Where are you?”

Virgil shook his head wildly.

“I don’t know,” Patton said thoughtfully. “A road.”

“Patton,” the man groaned. “Why?”

“It’s just a thing that happened Lo, sorry if you needed me.”

“How is a road trip a ‘thing’ that just ‘happens,’ Patton?” he asked. Patton glanced at Virgil.

“Erm… it just did?” he said.

“Patton!”

“Anyway, I’m a little bit busy so talk to you later!”

“Patton do not hang up the phone!”

“Love you Logi!” He jerked his head at Virgil and Virgil hit the end call button.

The second the call ended Virgil groaned. “It would have been better if you just didn’t answer.”

The Mission Impossible Song: Kazoo Version started playing again.

“It’ll be best if you just turn that off,” Patton said.

“Won’t he just call the cops?”

Patton gave him a secret smile. “No, he’ll just think I’m being silly and ignoring him.”

“Do you do stuff like that often?” Virgil asked.

“Just enough so he doesn’t ask questions when I don’t want him to,” Patton divulged. “It’s a little brother thing, you know.”

Virgil flinched just a bit. A brother thing. He wondered where his brother was now. He’d always been nice to Virgil, but he’d also always been obedient to mom. He wondered if he knew about Virgil’s dad. The two had always gotten along even though he wasn’t Janus’s father, but mom was… mom. Virgil didn’t want to know whose side he’d take.

The ringtone ended and started back up once again. Virgil held down the power button until it turned off and decided to store it in the glove compartment so Patton couldn’t reach it as easily. (Though, perhaps he should have thought of that earlier, but he was new to the whole kidnapping thing.)

He sat back against the seat and started rubbing at the sleeves of his hoodie.

“Everything okay over there?” Patton asked.

“I’m fine,” Virgil snapped and then bristled under the raised eyebrow he got in return. “This radio station is just stupid,” he grumbled.

“Well, you can change it,” Patton pointed out.

The radio station wasn’t actually the problem, but it did give him something to do with his hands. He reached forward and started fiddling with the radio dials. About 10 minutes later he hit a radio station that wasn’t music, but some guy talking. Virgil paused on the station and sat back. Whoever the guy was, his voice was low and soothing.

Virgil closed his eyes and listened for a few minutes before he let out a startled chuckle. “He’s talking about Moth Man?”

He opened his eyes to see Patton’s face crinkled up into a soft smile. “He is.”

Virgil couldn’t help but start to giggle. He laughed so hard that it started to blur into sobbing. He felt a gentle touch on his knee and looked over at Patton.

“There are tissues in the glove box,” he told Virgil. Virgil nodded and reached forward into to the glove box to grab the Kleenex Box while still sniffling.

He blotted at his eyes and blew his nose before sticking the dirty tissue into his hoodie pocket.

Today had been a horrible day. He was exhausted. He leaned back against the seat and his eyes flickered closed.

“Do you want me to change the radio station?” Patton asked softly.

Virgil laughed again and barely restrained himself from going into another fit. “No, no,” he said. “It’s fine. I’ve gotta hear how it ends.”

“That’s fair,” Patton said and though Virgil had his eyes closed, he imagined he was shooting him one of those confusing soft smiles again.

The conspiracy theory radio guy kept blathering on about sightings of Moth Man in a deceptively calm tone.

Wow Virgil was tired.

…

Falling asleep while the guy you carjacked drove probably wasn’t a good idea.

That was one of the last coherent thoughts he had before he drifted off to sleep.

Want to read more? Click below!

AO3 Part 4 My Master Post

[rdrthingies]

Charles and Tayen’s first robbery

this is their first robbery with the gang, featuring Arthur

hope you enjoy!

Tayen and Charles had been with the gang for close to a week now, “members” but haven’t yet been welcomed as one, as they haven’t been taken on a job so someone can see how they work.

While Charles was happy to wait, doing chores around camp as needed, slowly getting acquainted with everyone, Tayen was quite the opposite. Almost every day she would go to Hosea or Dutch, “Found a lead yet?” And every day they would smile and laugh and shake their head, saying her time to shine would come soon.

That time finally came when Arthur came back to camp after first meeting them, telling Dutch about a stage coach of a wealthy oil man making his way West. 

“Good,” Dutch nods with a smile. “Take the two new ones with you: Charles and Tayen.” Arthur gives Dutch a two finger salute and walks off to gather the other two.

He finds them at the campfire, tending to their weapons, idly passing the time. He approaches the two and calls out, “Mr. and Miss Smith! We got a job for you.”

“WOOHOO!” Tayen leaps up with a cheer, quickly putting away her knife and getting her other things ready. “What is it? Where is it? Oh! Do I get to sneak into a house-”

“Easy woman, Jesus.” Arthur holds his hands out like he’s trying to calm a spooked horse, but there’s laughter bubbling in his chest. “Just a stage coach headin’ West. Some rich oil guy.” But Tayen did not seem put off by that, nearly vibrating with excitement as she eagerly awaited her brother who got ready much more leisurely and carefully.

“So we’ll take ‘em at night?” Charles asks as he walks up, holstering his sawed off.

Arthur begins walking to the horses, the other two following. “Yeah, from what I heard he wanna ride through the night, so we’ll take ‘em on the road.”

Arthur strokes Boadicea’s nose, waiting for the two to tack up and get up. Their horses matched their personalities: Taima calm, munching on a carrot Charles had given her. Whereas Inola was nearly prancing in place, head bobbing up and down, Tayen having to work to get the bit in.

He waited for the two to mount up before he mounted Boadicea, “Alrigh’, we’ll stake out on the cliff overlookin’’ New Austin. Wait for ‘em to ride down, then follow.” He turns Boadicea, bringing her into a trot, they had hours to get there after all.

Only Tayen and Inola races past him, cheering and calling out. “Keep up old men!” Arthur could hear Charles’ sigh from his spot, but Arthur only gives him an amused smile.

“She always like this?” Arthur questions, Charles looking to the man for a moment, a small smile forming.

“Normally not this... excited. Think she’s just antsy to show off what she can do.”

“Well, ‘m sure you two’ll be fine.” And Arthur meant it: they were clearly competent at nearly everything they do, working very well together despite their clear differences. But that’s how family is, Arthur thinks, briefly reminiscing on him and John’s jobs, back when they were close Brothers.

Arthur and Charles ride in relative silence, not awkward silence, but silence of two companions simply taking a ride.

They reach the cliff just as the sun begins to set, catching Inola off to the side grazing, but his rider nowhere to be seen. Arthur looks around, not freaking out... yet, but certainly a little on edge.

“Tayen? Where are ya?” He calls out, noticing Charles leisurely riding up to the cliff without a care.

“Up here!” Her face suddenly appears beneath the foliage of the tree, upside down with her braids dangling. “Nearly fell asleep waitin’ on you old ladies!”

“Simply not wanting to push our horses,” Charles answers back as he dismounts. “Now come be helpful.” Tayen groans and Arthur swears he can hear Tayen give a little mocked copy of Charles’ order before flipping off down the tree.

Being “helpful” included taking care of the horses and handing Arthur some salted meats and water, which Arthur took generously, giving his thanks.

The three waited as the sun set and the stars began coming out, a waning crescent moon slowly making its way in the sky. They didn’t talk much, but Arthur still seemed to learn more about the two.

Charles was always doing something productive, whether that was fletching arrows or cleaning his gun or even sharpening his knife and axe. Hands always busy.

Tayen seemed to always do things as well, but in a different way. She’d touch up the paints on her face, putting the paint on confidently without a mirror. She’d sometimes flap her hands or pull her braids, but seemed to stop herself after a while, sitting on them. She’d even call out different animal calls, saying what the animal was and maybe even a fact about them. Arthur caught her a couple times softly hooting like an owl, a very convincing owl, he thought one had perched up at the tree before realizing it was her.

By the time they heard the coach, Arthur had finished sketching the two around the fire, Charles hunched over an arrow and Tayen smiling with a hand on her braid.

“Alrigh’, bet that’s them.” He called out, and just like that it was like they were brought back to life. Tayen leaping up and jumping up onto Inola, and even Charles hurried a little to Taima. The three rode to the cliff edge, watching the stage coach make its way down the cliff edge. A single lantern illuminates the front of the coach where they see the driver and a shotgun driver.

Arthur takes out his binoculars, conveying the rest of the information. “Shotgun driver with two riders in the back. Think the Rich Man’s got a wife wit’ ‘em as well.” He puts away the binoculars, sniffing, thinking.

“Alright,” He looks to the other two. “Charles, yer gonna ride ahead an’ stop the coach. Do your best not to shoot anyone but the shotgun does look experienced, so might need a bullet in the arm.” He nods, face stone. “Tayen, you an’ I are gonna take out the guns, like I said I wanna try to avoid killin anyone, but we might have to take out the guard.”

“Not a problem for me!” She grins crookedly.

Arthur laughs, pulling up his bandanna. “Didn’t think it would be.” He looks as the two pulls their own bandanna up: Charles a simple black like his own, but longer, covering his entire neck. While Tayen had a black bandanna that was also painted: a grinning animal with sharp teeth, wolf maybe.

“Alright, let’s go.” He turns his horse, trotting off with Tayen as Charles is the one this time to ride ahead.

The two follow behind him, not the silence like from earlier that day, but one of seriousness, of two people preparing for a job. They stay behind Charles but not too far behind, watching him easily catch up to the coach from a distance, keeping away from the coach to catch them off guard.

The driver was just beginning a turn when Charles cuts in, pulling Taima right to the front of the wagon with his sawed off aimed, the driver pulling on the reins hard, the horses snorting as they skid to a stop.

“Drop it.” Charles orders the shotgun driver, and even from the distance, Arthur could hear the pure intimidation in his voice, and the lack of a shot ringing out proves that he is good at that sort of thing.

Now it was their turn, the two riders readying themselves to take Charles out, but they aim their own guns and Arthur grunts out this time. “Don’t even think ‘bout it, partner.” The two guards look over their shoulder, catching the two guns to them, and they sigh heavily as they raise their hands in surrender.

“Drop the guns, all of ‘em.” Tayen orders and Arthur doesn’t miss the blink in surprise from them as they realize one of their assailants is a woman. But they do comply, dropping their repeaters and taking off their gun belt slowly.

By this time Charles was by the side of the coach, the gun the shotgun had was tossed to the side.

“Watch these two,” Arthur orders Tayen, pointing to the two guards as he dismounts and meets up with Charles. He goes to the door and knocks harshly, “C’mon. Money, valuables, all out ‘ere. Sooner you do it the sooner you can be on yer way.” There was hushed talking on the other side, and Arthur was worried they were up to something.

But then the door opened and a stack of money, a coin purse, and several jewelry hit the dirt at his feet.

“Thank ya kindly,” Arthur charms as he picks it up, trusting Charles to watch his back. He counted the money: a good three hundred dollars plus the jewelry. Not a bad take. He pocketed their take and was ready to head back when suddenly Tayen called out.

“Hold up,” Tayen dismounts, ignoring the guards as she approaches the coach, eyeing it. “This is a personally owned coach.”

Arthur shrugged, “So?”

“So personal coaches tend to have secret stashes. In case something like this were to happen.” Tayen informs, her smile growing. “I bet they’ve got somethin’ hidin’ in there. Arthur scratches his chin, it was a good observation, but he wasn’t sure if it was true.

“That true?” Charles now calls out. “You got more hiding away?” 

There was silence on the other side, so Arthur banged his hand on the door again. “Hey! Answer the damn question!”

“Yes!” A shrill cry of a woman came from inside. “T-there’s a hidden compartment beneath the dashboard.” Charles went to the front of the wagon, watching the driver and shotgun carefully as he felt around, finding a latch and breaking it open with the hilt of his sawed off.

Arthur is watching Charles work, making sure he didn’t run into any trouble, and Tayen was bouncing on her toes, excited that her hunch worked out.

But that meant none were watching the two guards behind them: where one was slowly dismounting, reaching for his handgun.

But Inola saw, and Inola was already skittish. He stomped his hooves, giving a high-pitched cry. Tayen turned to see what was wrong, only to see the man cocking his gun.

“SHIT!” She shouted and instinct took over before Arthur could even draw his gun. But even his instincts were too slow for the woman: with her left hand she took her tomahawk at her side and threw it sideways, a dull thunk sounding as it split into the man's forehead. Arthur shot the other guard who was now trying to reach his gun now, a bullet to his chest and he quickly dropped dead.

“Damn fools,” Arthur sighed and holstered his gun, turning to Charles. “Got it?”

Charles nodded, tossing the extra take to him: five hundred dollars.

Arthur shoves the money into his satchel and marches up to the driver, eyes hard as he ordered. “Now you two are gonna close yer eyes and count to sixty. When you do you, you can open ‘em an’ be on yer way. Got it?” The two men nodded, gulping, very much not wanting to be shot.

The three mounted their horses and quickly rode off, kicking up dust as they raced through the silvery moonlight.

Arthur finally slowed them down once they were back up the cliff and well into West Elizabeth, putting down his bandanna. “Think we’re good.”

The two slowed and followed suit, and Tayen was quick to speak. “Sorry for not watching those guards... didn’t think they’d try shit.” Arthur turned, seeing genuine guilt in her eyes, it caused Arthur to smile.

“Naw yer good, Tayen.” He chuckled. “No one got hurt an’ you’ve got some good reflexes on ya. Just stay focus next time.”

“Will do!” She straightens, guilt suddenly gone in favor of a broad smile.

“You both did good,” Arthur compliments, looking to Charles and nodding to him. “You work well together an’ are good with orders. More than I can say for most in the gang,” he can’t help but add at the end. “Once I fence the jewelry I’ll split the cut. ‘Member, half goes to camp, the rest is split between us. ‘Cause this is your Welcome Robbery as Dutch likes to put it: you get more of the cut.”

The two nodded in agreement and they rode back in relative silence: Tayen popping up every now and then to share a story or to simply make her owl noises.

Yeah, Arthur thought. These two will be a good fit. 

[iomhair]

A Matter of Survival

Jacob wakes up, staring at the ceiling of a train compartment, watching the rare lights casting off eerie shadows. They creep off the ceiling, sliding over the walls, dissolving into the soothing sound of the moving train. Jacob closes his eyes and stretches the hand to the table by the sofa – he should have left a bottle of ale there.

Jacob is not superstitious, never has been. Chasing stories, fairy tales, ancient relics, ghosts even – that was always Evie’s prerogative. He tried to stay away from it, always seeking for a rational explanation of whatever seemed to be out of the ordinary. They lived in a time of another miracle, which could hardly even be called one – future. Inventions and progress. It was the time to leave all the old stories right where they belonged: back in Crawley, hidden under his old bed, lurking in the empty streets, collecting dust on the endless shelves of the assassin’s libraries. This was definitely under Jacob’s control. The past was the past, he left Crawley some time ago and never even regretted of this decision.

However, annoyingly enough, dreams stayed out of his control and Jacob was not sure how to deal with them.

Jacob sighs, pulling out the wooden cork and finishing the cheap ale in a matter of seconds. He gives alcohol a couple of minutes to work and if he is lucky enough, the cheap swill might even make him dizzy again. It does not, and Jacob gets up, slowly walking to the bar compartment to get some more.

Jacob grabs the bottle of some Irish whiskey, making a quick sip. He now stares at the window, seeing familiar houses, recognizing the area from afar. Southwark. That’s gonna be his stop for tonight.

* * *

Jacob still sees the remnants of his dream, when quickly making his way to the bank of Thames and climbing to the roof of the empty house. He can almost feel the gauntlet slipping off his hand, negating his hit in that dream. He can see the bullet piercing the body of the innocent. He can feel the promise of a terror running through his veins when his knife is missing the initial target, instead bringing death to some random stranger. Many little moments that are weaved into one big shroud. Many small sacrifices that are covered by a vision of a big picture. Many insignificant lies that are turned into the big justification.

Jacob shivers and makes a sip, wrinkling of the sharp whisky smell.

Familiar shadows from his dream are now filling the cold fog of London night, they walk its streets, they all face Jacob now, still staying away, not daring to break the thin veil between madness and sanity.

Not yet, boy.

The sounds of waves, the commotion of busy docks, the cries of seagulls and the ring of bells from across the river bring Jacob to reality.

- Can’t get me here. Those are the rules.

But aren’t rules meant to be broken?..

Jacob almost growls, making a sip after sip. Deprived of possible elegance and a mandatory addition to his usual night out with the Rooks, the alcohol serves its primary purpose and Jacob realizes that the voices in his head are getting quitter. The viscous embrace of the dream is weakened and Jacob slips away from its cold grasp once again. Alive. Unscathed. Defeated.

* * *

Jacob comes back to the train only by night. They made a stop somewhere by the posh district of London, he can see it by the amount of light that illuminates the streets, revealing almost every dark corner. Jacob gets on the roof of their train, watching the crowds of fancily dressed people walking under the bridge. He stares at the distance and he can almost, almost see the columns of Alhambra. The realization that something is constant in this ever-changing new world around him is quite comforting.

Jacob smiles, imagining Roth walking over the stage, talking, smiling, doing anything, really - it never mattered since for some reason Jacob could barely take his eyes off the man. Roth was... captivating.

The train starts moving, leaving the temporary respite. Jacob falls back, watching the night sky, barely seeing the stars. Aren’t they used to be brighter in Crawley?..

- Ah, screw it.

Jacob gets up and throwing the bottle away, quickly readying the gauntlet and hearing the sound of wire, jumping off the train into the welcoming embrace of the night.

It was that simple, really: every time he had business with Roth, every time he left Alhambra, every time he noticed the sharp gaze of green eyes, the shadows seemed to step away and the nightmares seemed to leave him be. At least for a night or two.

Jacob quickly jumps over the roofs, feeling his heart beating faster when he sees the bright lights of Alhambra theatre ahead of him.

It’s just a simple matter of survival, nothing more.

* * *

This day was different.

Everything was wrong and Jacob was too late to fix it, he already knows it.

He knows it when he runs between cheap Whitechapel houses. He knows it when he smells the smoke in the air. He knows it when he runs through the terrified crowd, pushing people aside.

- Move! Move away!

Screams are filling the air and Jacob barely has time to jump away, when the roaring flames are breaking the window of the nearest house, almost catching up with him. Jacob keeps running, trying to reload a gun and to concentrate on the screams the same time. He coughs, covering the face with the palm, getting away from the smoke and finally hearing the voices getting closer.

Hold on, hold on, I am almost there… I got you.

Jacob runs like he never runs before. He has dropped two bullets, but what does it matter if he is an excellent shot, perhaps one of the best in…

- Please! I have a son!

…London.

Flames are rising behind the crowd of templars and a pile of lifeless bodies, fire is glowing in the deadly reflections of daggers, blazes are getting more prominent. Jacob sees the woman on her knees and notices the templars blade right by her throat.

- Sir… Please, I beg of you, do something!

Their eyes meet for a split second and Jacob does not even have time to say anything before his finger slips over the trigger, pulling it immediately.  

The body of a woman falls on the cobblestone and her blood is dripping from the templar’s blade.

- You missed, boy.

The templar smirks and whistles, stepping over the lifeless body, before Jacob rushes in to wipe that smirk off his face. He now exists on the pure instincts, fighting fearlessly, adding more wrath and havoc to the roaring fire around them.

One dead, two dead, three dead. Others disappeared in the smokes.

Three lives, only three lives claimed by Jacob for many more that were taken today. Only three fucking lives and many more shadows, chasing him while he sleeps. Not even close to being fair.  

Jacob coughs and runs to the body of the woman, already knowing that it is too late.

- Shit.

He touches her face, closing the wide opened eyes, shivering of the visible expression of fear and surprise.

- I am sorry.

The building behind him starts to crumble, spreading the flames all around and Jacob runs away, desperately searching for the clean path, stumbling upon rubble and getting lost in the smokes. The sound of a missing shot still haunts him and Jacob shivers in the anticipation of another sleepless night. He barely sees anything around him, does not notice the clear path, but he knows that he has to make it out. He’ll think of everything that happened later, but now he just has to make one more step and make it out alive.

Not today... Not today.

* * *

Every time Jacob tries to close his eyes this night, he sees the gaze of that woman in the burning Whitechapel. Flames are consuming everything around them, the street is filling in with shadows, they are getting more visible, they materialize out of dust and smoke, they now have faces of those who Jacob could not save.

Everyone who he has killed.

Jacob shudders, digging the fingers in the pillow. He wants to scream, but this hideout has never offered any privacy and Jacob does not like the idea of waking up his sister. He breathes in, standing up and coming to the window, watching the bright moonlight spreading over London.

There is only place left where he can go tonight. Where he wants to be tonight. Just a simple matter of survival, isn’t it?..

* * *

By the time Jacob makes it to Alhambra, his body is so tensed, that he can feel every single stumble and every single jump with his every muscle. The pall of rage is making Jacob faster at the cost of his strength, but it barely matteres now.

Jacob has never used a window to come in here, even though he noticed that since some time Roth was keeping a certain window in Alhambra opened. It seemed way too private despite the fact that Jacob barely accepted anyone else’s boundaries, always trying to establish them on his own terms. Locks meant to be broken. Doors meant to be opened.

Jacob comes in through the opened window unannounced, seeing Roth sitting in the bright red chair with the book. The fear and the desperation that was haunting Jacob all the way here are scattering away, giving way to something different. But it’s impossible to get rid of them completely, and it shows. He watches as Roth puts the book away, walking to the table and pouring some whiskey into the glasses, giving one to Jacob almost immediately.

- Forgive me being so blatant, but it looks like you need one.  

Roth does not ask questions and Jacob appreciates that, he always does. But tonight is different.

- When was the last time you slept, Jacob?

Jacob does not answer. He makes two big sips, finishing the glass at once and pouring more in the complete silence.

- You did not answer.

- Does it matter?

- Well... Darling, you look like you are about to collapse right on my carpet and before we do something about that, I would be thrilled to know if it’s because of the lack of sleep, a deadly wound that I have not noticed yet, or perhaps something else that is worth sharing in the middle of the night. So what would it be?

Roth’s voice is hoarse, soothing, calm. It fills Jacob with some kind of excitement, but his rage and frustration are still seeking for an exit, and he screams, throwing the empty glass into the wall.

- She TRUSTED me!

Jacob yells again and smashes the empty bottle against the floor, shattering it to many pieces. Even now the sounds seems to be not enough at the slightest, so he screams even louder, kicking the table and flipping it over.

- She looked me in the eyes, she saw me, she fucking SAW me! She KNEW I will protect her! That… that glimpse of hope, that fucking sparkle in their eyes before they die, you know it too, don’t you?! That… that moment between life and death, that moment of bloody realization that this is over!

Jacob roars, kicking the fallen table once again, walking over the pieces of broken glass, making them crumble under his boot. Tears that he was holding all day are finally streaming over his face, falling off the burning cheeks, but he does not even notice it, stepping closer to Maxwell.

- She saw me… Do you understand it?! She. Saw. Me. Just like this. I gave her hope and then I fucking failed her!

Jacob looks at his shaking hands as if he could still see someone else’s blood over his palms. He still stares at them when he feels Roth moving closer and a second later he realizes that the man’s fingers are now stroking his open palms. Jacob breathes in, touching Roth’s hands and letting their fingers intervene without even having second thoughts.

- Look at me. Look at me, Jacob.

The familiar voice brings him back to reality. He should not be so scared, he should not even be worried. Roth will not judge him, Roth will not be repelled by the heavy stench of death, Roth will not look at him as if he is the monster. And most importantly, he will not take pity. After all, they are so much alike… Aren’t they?..

Jacob finally lifts his head up only to see the understanding stare of the piercing green eyes.

- You don’t need pity from me, do you? Some sort of… redemption, perhaps?

- For God’s sake, no.

- Good. Because I am not going to offer it.

And then Jacob feels the world around his stops as Maxwell pulls him closer and embraces him, holding him so close, that Jacob is barely able to breath, barely able to think of what was happening. It seemed so incredibly natural to lean into Roth’s body, that for a second Jacob gets scared. But the fear is quickly replaced by the sensation of an assurance, security even. Jacob feels his lips partying, not even trying to suppress the loud cry, grabbing onto Roth’s jacket and pulling him even closer, as if trying to wrap himself into the warmth and scent of another human who was right by his side, sharing this moment with him. Someone, who understood who they were. Someone, who knew what they sacrificed along the way. Someone, who knew that there are hundreds more of sacrifices to come.

Jacob is almost falling, but Roth’s hands are holding him tight and when Jacob falls on his knees, he can feel the other man still being close and not letting him go.

Please don’t leave. Don’t ever fucking leave.

- I know… I know, Jacob. I really do. I wish I could ease your burden, my dear. Take it upon myself. Does not make a difference when you have thousand more to carry. One more, one less, what does it matter. You see, the truth is... soon you will forget their faces. I promise you will. 

Jacob can hear Maxwell’s quick and calming whispers, he can feel gentle hand running through his hair, and oh how incredibly soothing it is. This is not about the caress or pity, but more of an… acceptance. Silent promise. Jacob is quiet now, still grabbing onto Roth’s shirt, breathing slower. He looks around, staring into the dark corners and watching the shadows fading away in the darkness, leaving just the two of them in the middle of the room.

- Thank you…

Jacob whispers barely audible, now looking back at Roth, being as close to the man as he never was before. As if in some kind of trance, he suddenly leans forward, letting his lips slide over Roth’s cheek, touching his scar.

There. Now you’ve shared something with me as well.

Jacob can feel Roth getting tensed for a split second before turning the head just so slightly, matching the touch of his, Jacob’s, lips, allowing this to happen. Jacob could feel his hands sliding over his back, nails digging into the scarred flesh - not so gentle reminder that both of them are still alive, both of them are still here and both of them are ready to accept what they are in this very moment. Jacob feels that his cheeks are still wet, but Roth removes the tears with the gentle swipe of his hand.

- All lives end. All hearts are broken. Caring is not an advantage.

The quite whisper burns Jacob’s neck and he swallows the silent tears, slowly relaxing in the other man’s embrace. He knows that at some point one of them has to break the touch, has to make this step towards the past where nothing has happened between them and perhaps never remember this night again. But Jacob does not want to forget.

He gets up, looking around at the damage he has done.

- You were right. I have not slept in a while.

- I figured as much.

Jacob remembers all the days that he spent in Roth’s company. They are flashing in his memory like a kaleidoscope of some sort, the pieces are always changing, always brining some new emotions, always making his heart beat faster, always leaving him craving for more.

- May I stay here tonight?

These words slip off Jacob’s lips before he can stop himself. He turns and his heart skips a beat when he sees Roth smile and nod.

- Yes. Yes, of course. Can’t let you out without a proper rest. I’d be a terrible host. And I don’t like to be a terrible host.  

And just like that Jacob notices the familiar shadows that were creeping in the corners dissolve into darkness. He smiles when taking off his coat, already knowing that tonight he will sleep without any nightmares.

OST: Death May Die

OST: Fables

[iudicatus-a]

door rings, elijah shouts “ I’ll get it! “ running across the living room to open the door. after an exchange of words, he closes the front door and runs into the kitchen “ mom! there’s a guy out front saying he’s my grandfather! “ a confused expression on his face. — elijah

EVERYTHING   WAS   PERFECT,        she’d   finally   found   a   place   to   belong.       never   in   a   million   years   would   maggie   believe   she’d   be   happy,      let   alone   a   mother   to   the   sweetest   kid.        as   he   comes   hurtling   into   the   kitchen   a   smile   lights   up   features.         happiness   vanishes   almost   as   quickly   as   it   came,      disappearing   at   the   mention   of   GRANDFATHER.        body   stiffens,      veins   running   ice   cold.      without   thinking   she   scoops   up   son,     taking   him   to   her   bedroom   to   hide   him   in   the   secret   compartment   in   closet.       blanket   is   grabbed   off   bed   and   draped   over   little   one,      she   cups   his   face   in   her   hands   for   a   moment,      admiring   every   inch   of   her   miracle   child.        kiss   is   pressed   to   mop   of   unruly   hair,      lingering   a  little   too   long.        while   tears   threaten   to   spill   as   she   takes   a   step   back,      fearful   that   this   would   be   the   last   time   she   saw   him. 

❛❛   eli   you’ve   gotta   stay   in   here,     no   matter   what   you  hear   you   stay   put.     you   understand?     do   not   come   out   unless   you   hear   me   or   dad,     i’ll   give   you   my   phone.     if   you   don’t   hear   from   dad   or   i   within   thirty   minutes   you   call   uncle  sam   and   grandad   richard   ok?   ❜❜

with   that   she   closes   the   compartment,     covering   the   space   with   clothing,     praying   julien   won’t   find   him.    closet   is   closed   and   weapons   are   snatched   from   drawer,     gun   is   tucked   into   waistband   under   shirt,     a   knife   hidden   in   her    boot.     she   can   hear   dean   at   front   door,     followed   by   the   sound   of   struggle.     without   a   second   thought   𝚜𝚑𝚎   𝚛𝚞𝚗𝚜   𝚝𝚘   𝚝𝚑𝚎   𝚊𝚒𝚍   𝚘𝚏   𝚑𝚎𝚛   𝚑𝚞𝚜𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚍.     gun   is   drawn,    safety   off   and   pointed   at   father.    jaw   clenches   at   the   sight   of   bloodied   dean,    this   was   her   mess   after   all.      

❛❛   i’d   say   it’s   good   to   see   you   julien   but   LYING   would   be   in   rather   bad   taste.   ❜❜      she   doesn’t   even   bother   in   hiding   disdain   for   her   father,      he   wasn’t   worth   the   effort.       ❛❛   now,      get   the   fuck   away   from   my   𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝   before   i   paint   the   walls   with   your   brain   matter.   ❜❜      

[the-hotter-otter]

Strangers || ATEEZ Fanfic

Seonghwa X OC

Mafia/Crime AU

3.7k words

Part 3 || chapter list || previous chapter || next chapter

Hyejin can’t fully commit to Seonghwa’s tempting offer, meanwhile Hongjoong continues to keep secretes.

Warning: blood, minor death, injury, violence, knife use

Angst, fluff, smut, cussing, violence, death

note: ayo shit will start moving soon I promiseee, I seriously don’t know where this story is gonna go but fuck it we’ll see. 

No pov

Hongjoong wasn’t at all surprised when Seonghwa came into his office late at night. He could tell there was a lie in between the lines Seonghwa spoke when he confronted the two last week. Being best friends for years with a bit of blood, death and guns on the side really did bring people together. 

“What’s her name?” Hongjoong asked, he couldn’t stay mad at Seonghwa. Hongjoong knew punishment wasn’t necessary on the eldest who was already racking his brain on it, as a leader he could tell when further discipline was needed and when it was best to leave it to their own self conscience. “If she’s staying here, I should at least know.”

“Lee Hyejin,” Seonghwa said, cursing the weird feeling of familiarity he felt after saying her name. 

“Lee hyejin?” Hongjoong quirked an eyebrow, he’s definitely heard of the name from somewhere, he just couldn’t pinpoint where. “Sounds familiar.”

Seonghwa merely nodded, somewhat glad that Hongjoong didn’t directly question him. “I’ll take responsibility for her.”

Hongjoong liked the sound of that, though it didn't change the fact that he was overlooking one more person. “That means a lot of things hwa, keeping her in line, taking care of her, watching her and protecting her if shit goes down.”

“She isn’t 5.” Seonghwa sighed, “I’m not spoon feeding her.” 

“But she knows.” Hongjoong reminded him, “and she knows she has you wrapped around her finger, people take advantage of that.” 

“I can always shoot her.” Seonghwa said as if it were so simple.

Hongjoong looked him up and down, silently judging the older one. Hongjoong sighed, he wasn’t exactly up for this kind of conversation at 2:30am, “Dramatic much... Aish don't waste the bullets, the suppliers have been shitty to us lately.”

“What I’m saying is you won't have to worry,” Seonghwa said, “you’ll barely notice her.”

Hongjoong looked Seonghwa up and down, “you want her to stay that badly?” 

Seonghwa was taken back by the other’s awkward perspective, “yes? There really isn’t any ulterior motive.”

Hongjoong gave a dawdled nod as he chuckled, “I’m playing with you hwa. Bring her in, I’ll let the others know of our latest addition.”

Seonghwa was about to step out of the office when Hongjoong suddenly spoke up again, “don’t forget about that task I gave you.”

Seonghwa gave a sharp nod, “I'll see to it by the end of the day.”

“Dont fuck up!” Hongjoong noted loud enough for the other to hear, he could imagine the rise he got from it. Deep down he was just joking, after all, Seonghwa never fucks up. 

Hongjoong enjoyed the tease he gave his best friend, more often than not, the former was in tight situations with serious consequences, loosening up was often the last thing he’d find himself doing. 

His smile was short lived when he suddenly felt the vibrations of his phone, and it wasn’t from the bold red one that was sprawled on the desk with the many papers. His face dropped drastically upon realizing that someone was calling the phone hidden deep in his pockets. There was only one person who’d be ringing. 

Mazaki Meiyo.

“Yes?” Hongjoong cautiously spoke up, his eyes darting around the office. He got up and opened the door to check if anyone was giving his conversation a listen. 

“They moved the deal.”

Hongjoong pinched the bridge of his nose, “when?”

“In an hour. You know just as well as me that this isn’t going to end smoothly.”

“Your deals rarely end well.” Hongjoong scoffed bitterly, he pulled the phone away from his ear when the other line went dead. He had to go now if he were to make it in time, he couldn’t afford to be late, not for these kinds of deals. 

Hongjoong pushed off his seat and swiftly buckled his hidden artillery onto his thigh and around his torso, making sure that his best weaponry was in close reach, ready for whatever conflict he was about to get into. Pulling the hood over his masked face, he checked the location Meiyo had sent him. 

The leader eyed the pile of paperwork that was due in a matter of days, he dreaded the inevitable all-nighters we’ll have to pull because of it. 

As Hongjoong left the household in silence, he turned his main phone off completely and stowed it in a hidden compartment. No one was going to find him tonight.

-

Hyejin pov

I stared at the phone screen in dismay, the loan shark has been after my ass for the debt I’ve yet to pay. I've been trying, but even after much struggle I only possess half of what I owe. 

I hated to take that offer from Seonghwa, the money from that deal would have covered my debt and rent from my residence long enough for me to make something out of a scrubby part time job, he just had to ruin me once more.

Then again, what other choice do I have? I leaned back on the wall of the alleyway, I don’t know anyone in this world. I was forgotten years ago, Seonghwa is the last person I’d go with, but he’s also the only one. 

My eyes drifted to the tall buildings around, they blocked the sunlight from ever entering these shabby alleys with large bins and locked deserted gates and doors. I met with the gazes that had been watching me for a while now, in a building a few blocks away yet still in perfect view, two middle aged men who most likely reeked of cigarettes and alcohol admired me from their apartment which could easily come off as an abandoned building left to collect dust and grime.

I squinted my eyes as I felt my vision start to give into fatigue, unrealistic hues of blue and neons started bouncing around. Every now and then, the migraine in my head would dust my eyes with a cloud of grey that blurred my sight ever so slightly. I sighed as I began seeing four instead of two weird men. I tried to refrain from focusing on anything, the lack of good sleep and food had me feeling all sorts of murky effects. 

Their stalkerish behaviour had been creeping me out for the past few days, despite it, I never saw a proper reason to leave the little spot I've claimed for rest. Plus, the odd duo hadn’t made any advances that had worried me thus far. 

The day continued, and the city had been busy as usual. Bikes raced down the side of the roads and paths, scaring the uptight mothers into a slur of curses. Teenage girls carelessly skipped around in their tiny croptops, powdery make up and flaunty shoes with boys their parents have no idea existed. Cars drove with their temperamental owners honking and anything and everything, then there were the workers who were either strolling around after their shifts or sprinting in swerves around people in effort to not be late.

Yet here I was sitting in a slump not so far from the hoards of people, absorbing the natural noises of the city that started to sound more like blaring megaphones instead of white noise. 9pm had crept faster than I expected, truthfully I wasn’t sure whether or not to go through with Seonghwa’s offer. I still had a chance to reconsider, perhaps I could deal with the information for money? After all, a controversial topic surrounding Seonghwa would no doubt bring in a big sum. 

I shook my head from the ludicrous thoughts, there was no guarantee in shady business, ever. It's a far-fetched plan, and the fact that I didn't have a name to my face meant I was that less convincing. 

Though I knew this offer would mean gambling my safety and if I were to stretch the possibilities, my own life. I still wasn’t 100% on board with the whole moving in with Seonghwa and whatever team he’s apart off, neither could I fathom the thought of that sinful man working with people, and that’s without mentioning his sudden change in attitude towards his victims.

It was yet another reason why I’m so reluctant to associate with him, because this isn’t the Seonghwa I was familiar with, he was a stranger, and no one is at ease when they’re affiliated with someone they don't know, especially when that person had guns, knives and all sorts of deadly possessions in their grasp. 

I groaned as I got up with a hazy mind. I looked up and to my suprise the stretchy men were back to watch me, it started to feel uncomfortable now. “Nice knowing you too I guess…” I keep my voice to a murmur. Soon I found myself heading to the meeting spot. 

My heart feels enraged with regret, and it’s impossible to ignore. There was a mere few minutes till the clock struck 9, I can get out of here now or never. 

The Central Train Station was quite grand. With multiple steps just to get to the entrance, neatly trimmed gardens surrounding the place and ancient pillars that held up the building. It was one of the older buildings that turned into a modern utility. 

“Fuck...” I muttered under my breath, “no, fuck this.”

Before I could think I was already speed walking to get the hell out of here. I had pride, I could at least preserve that after losing everything else. 

-

No pov

Blood coated the blade and splattered across the floor and walls of the office, the books on the shelf were drenched and soaking up every bit of red fluid. If only the man had just followed through with the deal, he wouldn’t have ended up dead. 

“What a hassle.” Seonghwa sighed, as he wiped his blade clean on his way out, though it was satisfying seeing the horrors painted on his face as Seonghwa taunted him, revenge for the knife he flung at Hongjoong during their last deal not long ago. 

Seonghwa analysed the slash along his shoulder area, it wasn’t serious at all but it sure did look ugly and soaked his dress shirt in a dark red, in the midst of the tension it felt numb but as his heart rate came down he could slowly feel the stinging pain emitting from the open flesh. He let out a relieved sigh after knowing that none of his own blood had ended up dripping anywhere. 

If it weren’t for the man’s sleeping family in the other room, Seonghwa could have easily finished it off with a bullet but he had to move silently. In turn, it cost him when the man felt fit to fight back with his own blade.

Seonghwa felt Hyejin was partly accountable for his injury. 20 minutes was a bit of a rush for a mission like this, but he had no choice if he was going to make it to the station in time. There was a chance that Hyejin wouldn’t even show up, and that chance made seonghwa unsteady and tense. 

As he pulled up to a red light he felt a distant memory unfold, one that brought a sense of discomfort.

Laughter bubbled up in the front of the car, toothy smiles that twinkled despite the gloomy rain outside. The lull of the music had been turned down for a while now as the soft chatter continued. 

“Hyejin, I told you I don’t need anything for my birthday.” Seonghwa insisted once more with a light chuckle, his one hand on the wheel while the other tried to hold her hand back. He watched in helplessness as she clipped the dangling toothless charm around the rear mirror of the car, her little laugh escaping her lips as it dangled between them.

“It’s cute! I’m telling you, you look just like him.” Hyejin insisted, “and that’s not even the best part.”

Seonghwa couldn't help but smile when the toothless unclipped in half to reveal a small photo framed inside, the details were minuscule but clearly contained the two of them on one of their more memorable dates. 

“Ya, this looks expensive, how much did you spend on me.” Seonghwa diverted the conversation as he observed the matte black of the green eyed dragon. 

“It wasn’t much, don't worry hwa.” Hyejin patted his hand, “I’ve got something else, it's more personal since I made it myself.” 

“So you have something else now?” Seonghwa sighed, though his stupid grin betrayed the annoyed look he tried to show.

The red light cascaded from red to orange to green and before hyejin could whip out the other half of her gift seonghwa sped off, “fine! I’ll accept your gifts, love.”

Seonghwa sneered at the Toothless charm he had yet to take off, if anything it became part of his car’s identity, making it slightly easier to navigate the garage of small black cars, specially on the days when all the vehicles would be together. 

Seonghwa had pulled to a slow stop in front of the station, hiding the charm was his first and foremost priority, Hyejin would most definitely recognize it. 

As he was about to yank the chain off, the corner of his eyes caught a sudden shadow appearing at the window.

Completely forgetting about the charm, Seonghwa halted in his seat, his hand already clasped around the gun latched onto him. It wasn’t until a hesitant Hyejin peered through the window did he relax his grip. On the other hand, Hyejin was feeling anything but relaxed, especially after seeing the bloodbath of a man in the driver's seat.

“So you’ll take my offer?” Seonghwa asked as if it wasn't already obvious enough, Hyejin scoffed. Her response was seen through the way she snuggled down into the passenger seat in a strained sigh of relief after being situated on the hard concrete for days on days.

Throughout the ride Hyejin had kept a careful observation of the roads they had been speeding across, if worse came to worse, she could make a run for it. 

Hyejin silently and subtly glanced around, the car itself hadn’t changed at all, not even the peppermint scent it gave off from the gum Seonghwa had been loyal to for most of his life, though it was currently heavily overpowered by the stench of blood. Hyejin didn’t want to know how and what got him that gruesome injury.

However, the most prominent and unusual feature that had still existed in the car was the all too familiar charm that dangled and swung around underneath the rearview mirror. The dragon's bright green eyes and toothy smile didn't go unnoticed, especially since Hyejin was the one who got it for him years ago. 

Hyejin had the decency to stay silent about it, the stiffness of the air was already far too overbearing, there was no need to intensify it’s sour atmosphere.

“It’s not just me who lives here.” Seonghwa brings up, 

“I figured.” Hyejin sighed, she had heard the many rumours over the years of how a certain group had been overturning the criminal world with unrivaled skill and accomplishments, they became big in the industry. This group of young, skilled men made a name for themselves and it became one feared by many, ATEEZ. 

Though it wasn’t just their skill that had made them the talk of many circles, it was the people within the group, the majority of which already had a reputation high on their shoulders. Hyejin had heard of the promising sniper who had joined their ranks, the insanely witty dealer who knew how to smooth talk his way to riches, the stealthy man who snuck into and claimed dangerous possessions without a single sound. 

Then there was the hitman who possessed the skill of 100 men, he was a young and promising lone wolf who had been rumoured to have joined ATEEZ.

Hyejin didn’t want to believe it was Seonghwa, in fact she didn't want to hear about anything related to Seonghwa, but it wasn’t possible when she was involved with loan sharks and illegal exchanges for the money she was in dire need for. Of course, because of her interactions with others, Hyejin was aware of Seonghwa’s growing skill and relevant changes, it disgusted her to say the least, how much better he had gotten at taking lives.

However the failed deal from last week confirmed her denial to be wrong, Seonghwa was well and truly closely associated with a group, and that group was no doubt ATEEZ.

“Dont try anything stupid.” Seonghwa warned, Hyejin rolled her eyes slightly, “I’m serious, I see the way you're memorizing these roads.”

Hyejin froze momentarily, she eyed Seonghwa who had removed his eyes from the road after stopping at a red light. Hyejin had forgotten how sharp he actually was, the intellectual from highschool still existed within him.

Hyejin got the chance to really see how much Seonghwa had changed, even underneath all of that stained blood and light smears of dirt, she could easily tell that his facial features had sharpened immensely, he wasn’t the same soft faced charmer that made highschool hearts throbs on a daily. If anything, Seonghwa now resembled a high class heartbreaker with a body count worthy enough for a world record. 

Of course some things don't ever change, like his lush lip and stunning eyes that stared back at her. Before the awkwardness could settle, Hyejin looked away, subconsciously glancing at the toothless charm. Seonghwa noticed the glare she gave it, his hands went to take it off but was ultimately stopped by the swat Hyejin gave.

“What’s the point of taking it off now? You had years to do that.” Hyejin raised an eyebrow. 

Seonghwa did not respond and merely sighed as he began moving on the road once again. Hyejin was taken back when they suddenly verged off into a bush area, what was a simple scenery of grass turned into a splatter of greenery. Trees towered high, vines and dense bushes had taken over, it was an untouched forest and they were driving right through it.

Hyejins eyes squinted in growing concern, she wanted to believe they were just passing through to get to another town, but her panic only continued to rise as they got deeper into the maze of nature. Her eyes glare at Seonghwa who seemed to have already expected her to build up doubts.

“Jump out and you’ll be as good as dead.” Seonghwa warned, as he quickly glanced at her stray hand reluctantly reaching for the handle.

“Where are we going Seonghwa….” Hyejin glowered at the driver who was rather unfazed. Even when the subtle sound of a knife being drawn was heard, Seonghwa didn't look away from the road.

The driver pushed his head back against the seat as soon as he caught sight of the fast approaching knife. With the blade a finger's length away, Seonghwa sighed, “I’m not gonna hurt. We’re going to the house, so put the knife down and have a little faith.” 

“Who the hell lives in a goddam forest?!” Hyejin hissed in a raised voice, her eyes teared up from staring so intensely into his side profile. 

“Put the knife down or we’ll both die.” Seonghwa lowered his voice, and Hyejin did not comply. The male halted the car to connect his eyes to hers, in one swift and unnoticeable movement, he grasped her wrist tightly, causing the knife to be let loose and drop to the pit of the car. Hyejin suddenly let a sharp exhale out as Seonghwa pinned her hand down in between them. She cursed her hazy headaches for causing the drastic disadvantage against Seonghwa.

“Stop panicking, we’re almost there.” Seonghwa said as he began driving once again, Hyejin didn’t attempt to squirm out of his hold.

“Your a fucking joke,” Hyejin hissed, “I’ll never put faith in you, not after all the shit you’ve done to me.” 

Soenghwa pinched his lips together at the indirect upbringing of her family’s murder. He wasn’t about to smooth that mess out now, it’ll require a calmer Hyejin and a better situation to explain. 

Hyejin tried to compose herself, but she knew the only way to soothe her panic was to see proof of what Seonghwa was saying.

As they pulled into the driveway of Horizon, Hyejin's tense shoulders melted into the seat. Seonghwa scoffed as he got out of the car first. The jerking of his head signalled for her to get out, hyejin sneered at the man, “give me a damn second will you?”

Seonghwa rolled his eyes before heading inside momentarily, most likely to check if anyone was still up in the early stages of the night. Hyejin took the time alone to get a good grasp at what she had just gotten herself into.

A house, full of dangerous men, in the middle of a forest and a single long ass road back to civilization. 

This wasn’t ideal at all, and Hyejin started to regret this more than ever.

As she took in short breaths her eyes trailed back to the rear mirror charm. All of a sudden, curiosity had her fiddling with the Toothless till it unlatched. She furrowed her eyebrows at the sight of the blank frame. It wasn’t that she was disappointed, it was merely confusion.

“But you keep the charm…” Hyejin glared at the Toothless that was once a gift of love. In the back of her mind she wondered if her other gift was still intact.

Hyejin could worry about that later. Right now, she needed to stay sane and alive, she knew well enough that she would never be guaranteed a way out of death's grasps. Relish in the house and slowly pay off her existing debt? Yes. Get comfortable and trust that your back will be safe in a distant place full of criminals? Hell no.

[justlightlysedated]

"Now," the alien guard says after he lets Michael, Max and Isobel through the doors, they stand awkwardly behind him, not moving any further even though there is someone else very obviously trying to get their attention. "Before we let the humans into the Summit, you will need to relinquish all of your weapons."

No one moves.

Alex tilts his head and looks at Michael raising an eyebrow, and Michael just raises one back at him.

"The people that can kill you with one thought don't want us to bring in weapons into their Summit?" Alex asks, sounding out exactly how stupid he thinks this rule is.

The guard standing in front of the door just lifts his head a little higher, and pushes forward an empty rolling tray.

"If you would please comply, we have a lot of things to get through today," he says.

Alex sighs and shares a look with Jenna.

Liz steps forward.

"Okay," she says, and pulls a knife out of her boot. She sets it down on top of the tray, and turns to the others.

"What?" She says at the looks they give her. "It never hurts to be prepared."

Maria steps forward next, tugging a taser out of her jacket pocket, and a switchblade from the bottom of her shoe, setting them down next to Liz's knife, and she glares at the guard.

"If you lose these, I am going to be very upset."

The guard loses all of the color to his face, but waves both Maria and Liz through.

Kyle sighs long and suffering, and looks at Alex, "I told you that arming ourselves was a bad idea."

He pulls a can of mace out of his pocket and sets it down next to Maria's taser.

Jenna steps forward then, rolling her eyes, and she pulls out a gun from her side holster, a smaller gun from an ankle holster, two daggers in sheaths tapped to the small of her bag, a baton pulled out from the side of her pants, two more daggers strapped to her other ankle, and another gun out from inside of her pants.

She places everything down as she takes it out, and Kyle's mouth is hanging open as he stares at her.

She just rolls her eyes even harder, "Look, you all have your toys. I have mines."

The guard waves her through with Kyle, and then that just leaves Alex.

Alex looks at the guard, who back at him steadily.

"Alex," Michael finally snaps, and Alex sighs, long suffering and steps closer to the tray and starts to remove the weapons hidden on his person.

He pulls out two guns strapped to his back, another one on an ankle holster, two long blades strapped to the inside of his forearms, a set of grenades in his pockets, two more knives from shoulder holsters, another gun hidden against his side, a code breaker that doubles as a taser, somehow a baseball bat, and finally a pair of nunchucks.

He drops them on the now overloaded tray and moves to walk inside, when the guard stops him and gives him a look, "I said all of your weapons."

Alex huffs out a breath and then glares at Michael, who raises his hands up in defense, and then takes out a blade from inside of his mouth, the bracelet he's wearing which can be used as a knife in a pinch, a pack of unassuming dots imbued with enough ricin to kill a grown man in two seconds, and another gun tapped on his hip.

The guard still doesn't let him pass, and Kyle makes a highly incredulous noise, like he doubts that Alex could have more weapons on his person.

Alex just scoffs, and then lifts his right leg up, and pulls his pants up, pressing a button alongside his prosthetic which makes a whish sound and then a thin blade pops out from the side and falls to the floor with a clatter.

"Is that all?" Alex says, and the guard looks like he wants to ask Alex that question, but instead he lets him pass.

Kyle looks from him to Jenna and back again, "Are you guys always packing that much heat?"

"Uh, yeah," both Jenna and Alex answer at the same time with matching expressions like they can't understand why the others don't carry as much weapons as they do.

"They didn't notice my knock out ring though," Jenna says, wiggling her hand in Alex's face.

Alex makes a low jealous noise grabbing her hand, "How many volts?"

"What the hell is a knock out ring?" Kyle asks.

"This," Jenna says, twisting the diamond on top of her ring and then pressing her hand down on Kyle's neck.

A jolt goes through him, and he makes a low grunting sound before he falls on the floor, unconscious.

"I want one," Alex says sounding awed. "But look, I got to keep the bow watch!"

He shows the watch to Jenna, who oohs and aahs, to everyone's confusion.

"What is a bow watch?" Isobel asks, sounding curious as she steps closer to them.

Jenna presses a button, and a side compartment opens from the side of the watch and out flies a tiny pin that hits the far wall strong enough that the wall, cracks a little.

"Okay," Maria says, stretching out the vowels. "Now that Alex and Jenna have proven that it is possible to have more weapons, can we please get a move on? I'm hungry and I think that guy is about to have a heart attack.

They all turn to the guy who had been trying to get Max and Michael and Isobel's attention earlier, who is now looking at them all in despair.

"Please follow me," he says in a voice that speaks of how much he doesn't want to do this.

Alex lets everyone go before him, Max and Jenna propping Kyle up between them, and he stops Michael and lets everyone pass before he pushes into Michael's space until they're against the wall, pressed close from chest to knee, ignoring the highly distressed noise that Isobel makes.

Alex makes a low pleased noise. "Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just very happy to see me?"

"Surprise," Michael says a little strained as Alex starts searching for the gun badly. "I knew they would let us pass and stop you since they don't trust humans!"

Michael just barely squeaks the last word, and Alex slides his hands out of his pants with a fake, "Oops?"

He slides the gun from Michael's pocket to his own, and then leans in a little bit closer, "Wanna skip out on the meetings and-"

"Michael!" Isobel's voice calls out, and Michael just smiles sheepishly at Alex.

"As good as that sounds," Michael starts.

"Her majesty is calling," Alex finishes with a sigh, and pulls away from Michael.

Michael moves to walk pass him and Alex catches his hand, threading their fingers together and lets Michael pull him along, feeling a little bit more secure and in control.

Michael just squeezes his fingers like he knows exactly what Alex is thinking and leads him into the room with the rest of their friends.